#zero waste pattern

[littlehelsneedles]

I have been toying with the thought of making a bronzeage look, so instead of throwing myself into a new period I made a wearable mockup in a fabric i have hoarded for 8 something years. Only problem is...i love how it looks, i love that it is no waste and now i really wanna make a bronzeage outfit....

[the-one-real-katyees]

Currently working on a less-waste-jumpsuit and I am very happy that I figured the pattern (which came without any instructions) out.

I hope I did, the pictures the website provided were... black and very bad illuminated.

Well, it's the one jumpssuit to rule them all by atacac. If anyone knows what happened with that company, please tell. Last information I have about them is from 2022...

[sandrune-art]

I made this little chart because someone asked me on tiktok how I made a half skirt I have, it's basically a simple wrap skirt made of triangles!

[everythingandaves]

Helpful Tags

[caterjunes]

with respect to the first three commentors, bc that IS very useful information - the crux of the issue is not just "can these episodes be found" but "can these episodes be accessed by EVERYONE, for free, with minimal infrastructure required"

i don't know a lot about the current situation of broadcast television, but when i was a kid at least, you could (theoretically) tune into pbs and watch sesame street with just an antenna and the shittiest most busted tv. it was (is?) literally broadcast over the air and required no cable hookup, no satellite dish, no internet connection, no subscription at all

the perfect is the enemy of the good, and sharing knowledge about where one can find sesame street online without an HBO subscription is wonderful! but this is something i see when people complain about, say, the increasing enshittification of windows as well - the urge is to share all these tips and tricks for optimizing Your windows usage, for finding somewhere You can stream sesame street. but that isn't actually the point of the original post. people who aren't tech-savvy aren't going to be able to do these windows tricks, and they deserve an operating system that works too! people who don't have high-speed internet aren't going to be able to stream sesame street, and they deserve access to this public good as well!

In the early 70s Sesame Street was created with an eye towards educating poor, inner-city children for free, and became a massive hit with all children. In 2016, faced with going off the air forever after facing conservative efforts to destroy public broadcasting since basically its beginning, new episodes became a timed exclusive for premium cable network HBO. In 2022 HBO Max, newly merged with and taken over by reality TV channel Discovery, removed Sesame Street episodes and spin-offs from streaming as a tax write-off and scheme to avoid paying residuals.

[bevanne46]

The (ALMOST) ZERO WASTE Jagged X's FREE Quilt Pattern! Tutorial

https://youtu.be/Ghg7aXt6qMc?si=24qtaIjeUylvYvAA Free PDF Pattern

[delilahsturniolo]

⟡ ݁₊ welcome to the end of the world! (please leave your sanity at the door.)

𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉 . . . four friends: nick, matt, chris, and you—find themselves stuck together at the end of the world, trying to survive a zombie apocalypse with nothing but their wits, a questionable supply of snacks, and zero emotional maturity. you’re just trying to stay alive without losing your mind—or falling for someone on the team.

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 . . . violence, mentions of weapons, cursing, romantic tension, slow burn.

CHAPTER TWO: BEAN COVERED ZOMBIES

read more parts here

you’ve seen some weird stuff since the world went sideways—zombies in bathrobes, a guy trying to trade a bag of toenail clippers for beef jerky, chris wearing a traffic cone as a hat for two full days—but nothing quite prepared you for the chaos that was today.

the four of you are huddled behind a tipped-over dumpster outside what used to be a convenience store. it smells like melted slushie, wet cardboard, and regret. chris is holding lieutenant whiskers like he’s a sacred relic. matt is peeking around the side of the dumpster, gripping his crowbar like it’s about to audition for america’s got talent. nick is furiously scribbling something on his clipboard even though you’re currently under attack.

“how are you writing right now?” you whisper-shout.

“documentation is essential,” nick hisses. “if we don’t track patterns, how will we optimize our future looting runs?”

“we’re literally hiding behind trash while zombies sniff the air for our brains,” you say. “read the room.”

“ooo! write that down,” chris adds helpfully. “that was a good line.”

you risk a peek around the dumpster. three zombies. slow ones, thank god, but still enough to ruin your day (and your limbs). one of them is wearing a cheerleader uniform. you don’t know why that makes it worse, but it does. you were never a cheerleader. too much enthusiasm. not enough sarcasm.

“we can take them,” matt says, eyes flicking between the group.

“we as in all of us, or we as in you beat the undead to a pulp while we awkwardly flail and yell things like ‘nice swing’ and ‘watch out for the one with half a jaw’?” you ask. he looks at you, that tiny smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “flailing’s part of the plan.”

your heart does that annoying flutter again. it’s fine. you’re just sleep-deprived. and possibly emotionally compromised. definitely not because matt keeps looking at you like you’re not just a liability with decent knife skills.

“okay,” nick says, “here’s the plan—”

before he can finish, chris stands up, hurls a can of beans directly at a zombie’s head. typical chris. the can makes impact with a loud thunk. the zombie stumbles, wobbles, and then goes down. the other two immediately groan and start dragging their crusty bodies in your direction.

“you absolute menace.” nick hisses.

“that was kind of impressive.” you admit.

“it was a precision strike,” chris says proudly, cradling lieutenant whiskers like a proud parent. “he’ll learn this technique when he’s older.”

matt doesn’t waste time. he moves like a storm—fast, focused, and slightly terrifying. his crowbar meets zombie skull with a crunch that makes your stomach lurch, but also maybe… swoon a little? okay, gross. focus.

you dive in to help, blade in hand, and together you take out the last one with minimal screaming and only one scraped elbow (yours, naturally). when it’s over, you’re panting, hands shaking a little, adrenaline buzzing through your veins like cheap coffee.

“we’re alive,” you breathe.

“of course we are,” matt says, brushing zombie gunk off your shoulder. “you did good.”

it’s two words. you did good. but coming from him? it feels like a poem. or a confession. you didn’t know, but it felt amazing.

“uh… thanks,” you say, trying not to smile like an idiot. you fail. just a little.

you all shuffle into the store, stepping over the fallen, bean-covered zombie. inside, the air smells like stale chips and apocalypse. shelves are mostly empty, but you find a few cans of soup, a bag of marshmallows, and—miraculously—two rolls of toilet paper. nick looks like he might cry.

“this is the most beautiful thing i’ve seen in weeks,” he says, clutching the toilet paper like it’s made of gold. matt tosses you a bottle of water from behind the counter. “you okay?” he asks, voice low, casual.

“yeah. you?”

he nods. “you’re getting better with that knife.”

you shrug. “guess i’ve had a good teacher.”

he looks at you for a beat longer than necessary. “you’re easy to teach.”

your cheeks feel warm. definitely the post-fight adrenaline. definitely not that look. god, why does the apocalypse have to come with feelings? nick interrupts your spiraling with a triumphant, “we’re done here. let’s go before chris tries to tame a raccoon or starts a cult.”

“i’d be a great cult leader,” chris says, stuffing marshmallows into his hoodie pocket.

you head back toward your makeshift base as the sun begins to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows on broken streets. your group walks in that familiar, weirdly comforting formation—nick mumbling to himself about inventory, chris humming the jurassic park theme song, matt walking quietly beside you, close enough that your arms occasionally brush.

maybe the world ended. maybe everything is broken. but you’ve got food, friends, and feelings you’re not ready to name. and, apparently, a cat named lieutenant whiskers. so yeah. not a bad day, all things considered, except maybe for the zombie that’s now following you from two blocks away.

but that’s definitely a tomorrow problem.

© delilahsturniolo

[tkpuke]

23 and jayvik pretty please :3

Jayce + Viktor - 23. “Yes…I mean, no!”

author’s note: okay so the plot for this was heavily inspired by @ticklish-ghost , @home-of-the-squirmle and I’s discussion on one of their posts so why not make it into a fic okay? okay cool

It was nearing midnight, the only light shining into the lab through the curtains was the moon and its luminescent stars scattered around the sky. Viktor perched an elbow on the table, leaning his cheek on his hand while reading a book that could hold answers to have them move forward with their project. They were close, but it seemed like they were met with a dead end. Scientists don’t take those lightly, so they hungrily search for other possibilities and correct their mistakes on what went wrong.

He doesn’t have a clue on his partner’s whereabouts, but he’s not going to waste time searching for him. Usually Viktor takes the extra mile and works on projects a little more than he’s suppose to. He tends to struggle with the definition of teamwork when he’s been mostly alone his entire childhood, so he has no issue working alone while Jayce heads off for other duties or sleeps at a healthy time compared to Viktor’s sleep schedule.

It was peaceful and quiet. Viktor treasures nights like these. Until something was dropped beside him, creating a loud thunk.

“Look what I made.” A voice suddenly spoke out from behind, it belonging to Jayce which made Vitkor nearly jump a foot from his chair. “Jesus Christ—Jaycewhendidyougethere-“ He looked beside him to see what was dropped, picking it up to examine. An iron knife in the perfect size to fit in your pocket, the ends in a twisted pattern to make it look a little stylish. His face doesn’t show it, but Viktor is slightly impressed. There is no interest in him for weapons, but when it’s created so clean and perfected by Jayce himself, he can’t help but be in awe.

He then puts the knife down, finally meeting Jayce’s eyes. “Another tool that will never be used for its purpose.” Clear to say Jayce has made a couple of tools, most having the same theme: sharp and dangerous. He never uses them, as Viktor stated, but Jayce always gives the ‘you never know’ excuse. In reality the man just gets bored out of his mind at times and gets these random surges of creativity to go down and make any toys his heart desires. Who wouldn’t if they had the skill to properly do so?

Viktor’s eyes started to register that Jayce is full on shirtless right in front of him, muscles exposed and pumped to its core from all the wielding. It never really dawned on him how strong of a guy Jayce is, feeling a bit fragile and small the more he compared his own build to him. How easy it could be for Jayce to effortlessly pin him. How he could take away Viktor’s right to squirm by simply sitting on his waist. How he could be picked up with one singular arm by Jayce with zero sweat.

Jayce caught on to his more than five second stare. Viktor noticed.

He took attention to the soot covered all over Jayce’s upper body, taking that as an explanation of his longing stare. “You’re dirty. Here, sit.” Viktor nudged his head over to a nearby chair, heading over to grab a cloth that will soon be damped with water and soap. “Oh, thank you. You really don’t have to.” Jayce chuckles all flustered in appreciation by Viktor’s care, taking the seat anyway. Viktor comes back, starting to dab the cloth on his shoulders while he works his way down. “Hmph, I’ve seen you sleep before in this state. Least I can do is help you get cleaned up.”

“Hey, I get too exhausted sometimes!” Jayce replies defensively, but gives a soft smile at the end. He grabs the knife he created earlier, fingers feeling around it. “You have to admit, this one looks a bit cooler than the others I have made.” Viktor nods in somewhat agreement, now focusing on the upper chest to clean off. “You can keep it, if you want to of course.”

Viktor shakes his head, not meeting Jayce’s eyes while conversing. “There’s no need for me to have it, but thank you for your…kind offer.”

“You’re keeping it.” Jayce responds back with, putting it on top of the open book Vitkor was previously reading so he won’t forget to take it with him. The other only sighs, being aware it’s a losing battle to argue with Jayce when he’s so set on gifting someone something they’ve never asked for. It’s one of the man’s many love languages: giving gifts.

His hand started moving down more, getting near his upper ribs. A quick shift of change in Jayce’s demeanor, beginning to have trouble sitting still like before and biting down his lip hard. Viktor catches on. Of course he did when he begin to rub the cloth against his body more gently, hoping it sent a ticklish shockwave. Revenge was right in front of him from all the times Viktor was ruthlessly, in his opinion, tickled silly by Jayce who never shot down an opening opportunity to do so. Little to Jayce’s knowledge, Viktor has been seeking out opportunities himself to get back. The whole idea of touch is just a subject he awkwardly moves around in, never having someone so playful and lovingly touchy like Jayce in his life.

With the way Jayce was squirming and huffing air out of his nose to suppress the giggles forming in his throat, it fueled newfound confidence in Viktor’s actions. He took it a step further, pretending a spot of soot around Jayce’s ribs was giving him difficulty to rub off, so he pressed his fingers deeper while curling them a little.

Not expecting the firmer touch along with feeling nails through the cloth gliding around his ribs freely, a surprised gasp slips out. Small giggles came right after, instinctively grabbing ahold of Viktor’s wrist. Viktor raises a brow, feigning confusion. “Sorry, does this tickle?”

“Yes…I mean, no!” Jayce got too distracted from the ticklish grazes that the question failed to register on time for him to think of an answer that may save his dignity. Viktor nudges Jayce’s firm grip off of his wrist, and he hesitantly does so. His partner looks up, doing incredibly well on not cracking a smile to foil his true intentions. “Yes? No? Which one is it?”

Jayce finds Viktor’s calmness to a newfound discovery nerve-racking, wishing he could read his mind right then and there. This is the first time Viktor has ever tried to tickle Jayce, but the poor man truly believes it was done on accident. He’s been so use to Viktor taking his ticklish onslaughts like a champ and never immediately attacking back, or even days later. Jayce had his own assumption that Viktor would never live up fully to his playfulness and do so much as tickle him back. The guy doesn’t even complete Jayce’s friendly hugs most of the time by wrapping his own arms around him, just kind of standing there until he pulls away.

So that’s why Jayce is sitting here, staring into Viktor’s questioning eyes, not knowing exactly on how to respond. He decides to lie, feeling like there’s no use in telling the truth if Viktor won’t indulge a little more.

“Um, just a little. Felt weird mostly.” He so badly does a terrible job of convincing. He releases a quiet held back sigh, not knowing if it was out of relief or disappointment when Viktor continued on cleaning after not questioning him a bit more. Viktor created a pattern, dragging the cloth and his fingers across Jayce’s skin that wasn’t ticklish at all. Then in the middle of doing so, he would press more firmly and curl his fingers again just enough for his nails to graze.

Jayce is terrible at holding in his giggles, making weird ‘kcchh!’ noises and sometimes letting a couple out for a few seconds but in a whisper tone as if Viktor isn’t right in front of him to hear them all. “You’re giggling a lot for someone who claims to just be a little ticklish.” Viktor nonchalantly states, placing a hand on top of Jayce’s shoulder to keep him steady. Jayce was about to do another failed attempt of denying until that pattern Viktor was doing met down around his stomach.

Jayce snorts, instantly slapping a hand to cover his mouth in shock as Viktor pauses his movements. His mouth twitches upward for a split second, almost smiling from Jayce’s flushed cheeks. “Oh, so it does tickle.”

“Viktor, wait—“

“You lied to me?”

“Nononono, it’s just that—“

“No need to explain yourself, Jayce. I’ll be careful.” You’d have to be dumb to not practically hear the smile in Viktor’s tone. Both of them, and if anyone else were to be in that room, would very much know that Victor won’t be ‘careful’. Viktor kept up that god forsaken pattern again, but this time letting it tickle Jayce more frequently than it cleaning.

He observed Jayce’s reactions, testing out different areas around his stomach and what brought out a louder reaction than the other. Fingers curling to the middle of his stomach earned him a full boisterous laugh. Nearing his belly button made him receive laughs that shot an octave higher with an occasional whistle coming from the gap of his two front teeth. Cleaning over his belly button made Jayce snort again, a noise Viktor was seeking out for.

Jayce’s rambunctious laugh got Viktor stuck in a trance. How it’s so loud it can be heard from all over Piltover. Jayce’s high pitch snorts coming out only when Viktor tickles somewhere particularly more sensitive. His eyes being closed shut, a random push to Viktor’s face as if it’ll tone down the ticklish sensations. Viktor now understands Jayce completely. He doesn’t want to stop the fun and hearing the flow of his laugh, everything so mesmerizing and ridiculously childish. Viktor could do this all day. 

Two hands grab Viktor’s wrists while a leg kicked out when he dragged the cloth over his belly button again, shaking his head. “Hohold on plehehease!”

Viktor scoffed. “Stop being a baby. I’m not doing anything.” But it was clear as day everything was now being done with purpose. Hands still holding onto Viktor’s wrists, Jayce takes the granted time to catch his breath. “Hehehe…ohohokay, I am one hundred percent sure I’m clean now.”

Viktor tsked, watching him take in air like he ran a marathon. “I think you might be more ticklish than me, Jayce. Isn’t that something?” Jayce abruptly stares at him, peeved. “Ohoho, is that what you think? Let’s put it to the test then.”

Viktor is now the one grabbing at Jayce’s wrists, pushing with all his might out of reach. “No, Jayce! Stop!” Jayce manages to skitter across Viktor’s side, earning him a squeak that he’s terribly embarrassed of. Jayce relishes it.

“What are you, a mouse?” He teases, letting Viktor push his hands away so he can feel like he’s having the upper hand ever so often just to play fair. Viktor stops his attempts of fighting back, shooting a glare but meanwhile grinning. “At least I don’t snort like a pig.”

Viktor just sealed his own coffin shut. “Oh, is that how you want to play?” Jayce gets up from his spot, startling Viktor. He picks him up with ease, showing no effect of Viktor’s shoves and shouts to be put down at once. Jayce lays him down on the couch softly, a location Viktor is all too familiar with by how frequent Jayce pins him down and tickles him mercilessly whenever Viktor, in Jayce’s words, deserves it.

Jayce does not attack right away, taking the time out of pure entertainment to watch him struggle a bit as if by some miracle today is the day Viktor manages to escape Jayce’s evil clutches.

He’s already giggling. “Jahayce, I am telling you now. Do not.” He manages to sit up a bit, hoping to level with Jayce more and seem convincingly threatening when his cold glare meets his eyes.

Jayce’s hands started slowly moving downwards.

“I now know where you’re most ticklish. I promise you, I will not be gentle when my next chance comes if you dare to do this.”

A leap of excitement was felt in Jayce’s heart at those words, causing him to smile and shrug before drilling into Viktor’s hips.

“I can live with that.”

[kate-inthedarkness]

Sun-kissed Beauty - Eli Hewson

Eli Hewson x fem!reader

Summary: An early summers morning in Eli’s family home with sun-kissed skin, back kisses, and admiration….

Warnings: Fluff, nudity but zero sexual content (although there are some moments of suggestiveness), kissing.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

It was a rare summer morning in Dublin. The kind that made the air thick and sweet, the sun pouring into the room like liquid gold.

You lay on your stomach, the sheets tangled around your naked body, your skin sticky from the warmth of the night.

The gentle sound of waves in the distance drifted through the slightly opened window, mingling with the soft chirping of birds, creating a soothing backdrop to your dreams.

You felt the familiar warmth of Elijah’s body beside you, his presence a comforting weight. As you slowly began to wake, you noticed the soft press of his lips against your back, fingers gently brushing your hair off your back to reveal more skin, a delicate touch that sent a warmth through you.

His kisses were gentle, nothing compared to the rough ones the two of you had shared in the privacy of his old bedroom the night before. They were almost like a feather brushing against your sun-kissed skin, and you couldn’t help but smile into your pillow, feeling a rush of affection for him.

“Morning,” he murmured, his voice a low, sleepy melody. You turned your head slightly, just enough to catch a glimpse of his tousled hair and sleepy smile.

His eyes were still heavy with sleep, but there was a spark of mischief in them that made your heart race.

“Morning,” you replied, your voice muffled by the pillow. The world outside was waking up, the sun creeping higher in the sky, but you wanted to linger in this moment a little longer, wrapped in the warmth of his kisses and the softness of the sheets.

Eli leaned closer, planting a new loving kiss along your spine. “You’re going to make us late for breakfast. We’re heading up to Howth today, remember?,” he teased, but his tone was playful, and you could feel the warmth radiating from him.

“Let them wait,” you said, relishing the way he made you feel. “I’m sure your mother won’t mind us staying in bed for a few extra minutes,” you smirked, but the smirk went unrecognised by Eli who had now moved upwards to nip at your neck.

“It’s not even my mam I’m worried about,” he pulled away from your neck, laying his head back down to lay face to face with you. “It’s my dad who wants to get a tan and go for a hike before we all head off to France next week!”

A subtle smirk appeared on your face, the casual mention of a family holiday to the south of France tickling you.

“Posh prick,” you giggled out as you face planted the pillow, earning a playful slap to your bare arse over the sheets.

“Watch your tone, Missy! Or else you won’t be coming with us,” Eli warned, playfully of course.

You turned your head to look at him, your mind running through quick comebacks you could use, but no, your brain went blank as soon as your eyes met his.

Silence quickly fell upon the two of you, eyes hooding quickly with lust and admiration, and the words ‘I love you’ tingling on the tip of your tongue.

But he beat you to it.

“I love you so much, love.” He spoke with ease, completely sure of himself and the words he said. His fingers mindlessly traced patterns along your collarbone, stopping to hold their place over one of the light marks he’d left there last night.

Every brush of his fingertips against your skin left goosebumps in their wake, even in the stickiness of the heat.

“I love you most, baby.” You returned the three words that were so easy to say to Eli with grace, causing a light tint of pink to brush over his cheeks.

Eli’s large hand cupped your left cheek, leaning in for a passionate and loving kiss, leaving you feeling flushed and butterflies flapping around in your ribcage.

As both of your naked bodies tangled up in each other once more, kisses being peppered over any area of bare skin, time wasted away, but none of that mattered.

All that mattered was that the two of you got to share an extra few minutes together before your day was filled with the best kind of chaos.

And you were more than grateful for that, as was Eli.

[sunshine-jesse]

Sorry to keep the stuff with the table scene in Shots and Such going on, but I do think it's weird that people have zeroed in on the fact that Ashley was drunk for the initial encounter with good sex (often completely ignoring that she likely wouldnt have been wasted unless it was alongside Andrew anyway) and the fact that she (someone with intense internalised misogyny and detachment from sex as something she ever *should* want) had a meltdown after it to suggest that Ashley was taken advantage of or straight up that she was raped back. I feel like, like with a lot of the flavour text in the Shots and Such house, isn't the point of those four text boxes more to point to the kind of abuse that the two of them will *keep* putting each other through, rather than what we missed off screen?

The line I'd be more likely to point to in those set of four would be where Andrew says he's been trying to recreate the encounter. If *anything* in that section suggests coercion, to me, I would think it's the implication that Andrew might try that to force Ashley into the right mindset for it. This seems to be more in line with the story telling about the missing bathroom door lock and whatnot, where nothing drastic that we haven't already unfortunately seen has happened off screen, and the implication is that more terrible things will just keep cycling on and on like this in the future.

But also, even then, the whole point of those lines is that it takes Ashley actually letting herself have sex as not just a transaction for her to enjoy it. Is that something that can be forced in the same way that Ashley forced Andrew to drop his last few morals about at least not fucking his sister? And part of the reason the encounter is even notable to Andrew is because he straight up tells us that normally, he has to pretend Ashley just has a kink because she usually actively tries to hurt him during sex. The abuse is going to keep happening anyway, because clearly the sex at this point just is not healthy for either of them.

I don't 100% know how to tie all of these thoughts up and the time of writing (hence the ask, really) but I just found that reading what other people are saying to you about this scene strange and sort of counter to the point about cycles of abuse rather than singular acts of violence in Shots and Such (especially when its scenes about singular acts of violence that set the patterns beforehand *were* given lots of detail)

I don't doubt that you'd tell me anyway if I was being a fool about all of this, or if I worded something extremely poorly, but I just wanted to say for all that these are my somewhat incomplete two cents, I would be very open to being told if I've completely misread anything here.

Normally I don't answer asks that don't have a question but I'm making an exception here because this is a really good and reasonable take.

[nikethestatue]

E|riels say Guilty as Sin is about them, but it’s not.

There are only two lines that made me pause to think maybe Elaine: "one slip and fall back into the hedge maze" and "I am seeing visions am I bad or mad wise?"

And both of those are stretches. We don't know enough about Gwyn and she may see visions. And IMO the line about the hedge maze may be talking about Elaine and Az's confusion and it won’t lead to anything.

E|riel don’t fit it. Gwynriel does.

I am going to blow your mind, anon. So buckle up. (And this goes for everyone, not just you). This will upset a lot of TS fans, but I am going to be real.

I personally would be hard pressed to name even one Taylor Swift song. Believe me when I tell you, I am not the only one. In fact, in real life, I know only one person who is a fan of TS, and I met this person through the fandom. Otherwise, no one that I know cares about TS in any capacity, or listens to her.

Last night, I went to a hockey game. There are breaks, down time, this and that throughout the game. They play a lot of music. People sing along, dance, normal stuff. You know what songs they play? Enter Sandman by Metallica. Hell's Bells by ACDC. Black Dog by Led Zeppelin. They play the Rolling Stones. Guns and Roses. The Who. Some of these songs are 50 years old. Some are even older. You know that's unique about them--they stood the test of time. People of all ages viscerally respond to them. They know them through the fabric of their DNA.

Taylor Swift was not played. if she were, I am not sure if anyone but 20-something white girls would've recognized her or sang along. I am not sure if anything about her is as revolutionary or compelling as you all seem to think.

let me explain what I typically do with books. I read the series and I analyze things that are on the page. I look for continuity, patterns (to a degree), clear indicators where the narrative is pointing to, and you know, the obvious. Author's obvious intent.

And at no point in my life have I needed to listen to a Taylor Swift song and then ANALYZE said Taylor Swift song--a song that has zero relation to the book or the series--and then, and only then, conclude that based on a Taylor Swift song with, apparently, these lyrics '"one slip and fall back into the hedge maze" and "I am seeing visions am I bad or mad wise?" will a couple in a series happen or not happen.

I don't know/care if SJM, or BB, or Spotify posted some song somewhere some time. I don't care what the song says.

NONE OF IT MATTERS.

if Elriels, Bryceriels, Gwynriels, Eluciens, Azrises, Gwynlains, Tamlains or anyone else wishes to obsess over a Taylor Swift song, or, anyone's song for that matter, thinking that it will somehow point them in the direction of their favored ship, I am gonna be honest--not gonna happen.

So please, don't waste your time, or my time, or our collective time analyzing 'Guilty As Sin'. SJM will write what she wants to write. That's it.

PS It's Elain. Not Elaine.

PPS If you want to take every Elain characteristic, power, and ability and give it to Gwyn, why not just become an Elriel? It seems easier than imagining that Gwyn is a Seer who loves baking and flowers, and who is the 3rd Archeron sister. Just saying.

[garaksapprentice]

Sewing Zero Waste Culottes from The Craft of Clothes

Zero Waste Culottes From The Craft of Clothes

Behold! Fancy pants!

The pattern for these pants was one of my Christmas gifts. It comes from Liz at The Craft of Clothes, a zero-waste designer. I've really gravitated towards self-drafting and zero-waste sewing in the last couple of years, and this pattern has been on my list for a good six months, so I was excited to get into it.

Drafting

The first step (after reading the pattern through twice) is drafting the pattern pieces.

My biggest starting hurdle was deciphering "the culottes are designed to sit on your waist" when choosing the correct pattern size. Most designers consider "the waist" to be the teapot - that is, the true waist. (It's easiest to find if you bend to the side and stick your hand in the crease - like you're singing "I'm a little teapot".) But some consider belly button height to be "the waist". I generally wear my pants at the latter height, and there's a good 2" circumference difference between those two for me.

I eventually decided to call my belly button my waist, on the grounds that that's where I prefer to wear my pants. It's also easier to take seams in than out, if I guessed wrong.

Decisions over, it was smooth sailing from there. Pattern drafting is not a technically difficult process, as long as you have good instructions, and Liz's patterns definitely fit that bill. But there's a lot of attention to detail required to make sure the end result is good. That sort of thing always makes me nervous. Fortunately there was only two pattern pieces to draft, and they're 98% straight lines and based off rectangles.

Interestingly, this is the first zero-waste pattern I've tried that has you draft pattern pieces to use. The others I've seen (most by the creator of this pattern - our library had a copy of her book, Zero Waste Sewing) have had you draw directly on your piece of fabric to create the layout. (In fairness, I didn't have to draft my own pieces. The pattern came with the option of self-drafting, printing on A4, or printing on A0.)

I much prefer the direct-draw method to faffing about with pattern pieces. But given that this pattern is designed to have the pieces tesselate, having a set of physical pattern pieces does make more sense. It's also got me wondering if I could successfully make a pair out of old jeans legs, using one leg per pattern piece. But then, I'm always looking for ways to use up my denim pile...

Sewing

I prefer structure rather than flow in my butt coverings, so I was somewhat limited in my fabric choices for this first pair. (I know the fabric I really want to use, but I am being a sensible apprentice and trying things out on a nice-but-less-hideously-expensive fabric first.) Most of my stash acquisition has focused on stuff for shirts, since I wear those out faster than pants. I eventually settled on this nice brick red, 100% cotton, table cloth.

The picture is suffering from sun exposure. It's nowhere near this bright in person.

I laid out the pieces and huzzah! The fabric was just big enough! ... But only if I unpicked the hems (they're monsters, a full 3 cm/1.2" each side) and ironed them flat first. Thus, it was time for a marathon unpicking and ironing session.

After that was done, I checked the pattern fit again. Huzzah! I had enough space for all the pattern pieces, and not very much scrap left over once I'd cut them all out. (Of course, it was late and I wasn't paying as much attention as I should have been, so I didn't add an extra inch when I was forced to cut the waistband in two pieces. There was enough extra fabric that this was only an annoyance and not a complete disaster.)

The fabric at the top is scrap. All but a few inches of the stuff on the right became waist bands and plackets.

Sewing was a fairly straightforward exercise, though it required enough brainpower that I completely forgot to take any progress shots as I went. Almost every step of the pattern comes with a diagram to show you what to do, which helped me immensely. So did having the seam allowances specified at each point, as there's three different ones used in different places.

That's not to say I didn't screw up, of course. While sewing the crotch seam, I somehow managed to close up the front of the pants entirely and leave a gap for the placket open at the back. (That will teach me not to double check the direction the pockets are facing before I pin and sew that seam. Maybe.) 

I also made a highly decorative and completely awful to sew with choice for topstitching thread, which I quickly became too stubborn to stop using. So the topstitching is, uh, not great. But it is purple and sparkly, and if I'd had any sense at all I would have left it til last (or even done some sort of hand embroidery with it).

I was tricked by the first line of stitching being so easy. LIES. It was all lies.

Why should I have left it til last? Because it turns out that the culottes are, in fact, designed to sit on one's true waist. Which meant I had a two inch difference between what I needed to fit me, and what the waist measurement was. If I hadn't top stitched the panels, I could have simply ran another line of stitching down the seams that didn't have pockets in the way, and taken the waist in without much fuss or bother. Unfortunately, I didn't do that, so I was left with two choices.

Take out the topstitching and take in all the panels, bitching and moaning about the effort I went to and the number of times the topstitch thread broke while I was sewing the stupid sparkly goodness onto things.

Work out how to take the waist in by the necessary two inches, using only the crotch seam and maybe some darts or pleats or something.

Choice #1 would have been the logical, rational decision, so of course I went with option #2.

An hour and change of basting, pinning and unpinning the waistband, and completely forgetting how seam allowances work later, I managed to get a fit I was happy enough with. I ended up grading in a dart-like object at the centre back. (If I decide later that I'm not happy with the fit after all, I'll try out the modification for adding elastic to the back waistband that the pattern also includes. Probably while questioning my life choices and lamenting the amount of time I spend with a seam ripper in hand.)

The original stitching line is in blue, the new one is in black.

After all that fitting woe, I wasn't in the mood to try buttonholes (my good machine, the one with the automatic buttonholer, is currently out of action). Instead I dove into my snap stash to close the placket.

I love using bright, vivid colours for inner details. It's the sewing equivalent of wearing leopard print underwear.

A nice bonus of using the snaps is that I could put them through just the placket, leaving the fly front clean. This did make the placket pull slightly when I'm wearing the pants, exposing a trace of bright red. I fixed that by invisibly whip-stitching through the placket and outer fabric to hold everything in place. Next time I'll also double check the understitching, and topstitch the edge if needed, before installing the snaps.

Field Test and Adjustments

Trying stuff on as you go is all well and good, but nothing tells you what you really need to fix like being out in the field. I quickly discovered several things:

The waistband needs serious help to stay where it's supposed to be. Which, y'know, I did make a size larger than I should have. This was not surprising.

The crotch needs to either drop a wee bit or (preferably) rise a couple of inches. The latter will likely spoil the skirt-effect somewhat, but it will be far more comfortable for my legs.

I need a loop on the waistband to hold my keys.

For the waist woes, I had a few choices - 1) belt loops, 2) suspenders, or 3) add elastic to the back waistband. Belt loops are fiddly to make and sew on, but would solve the key-hanging issue. Suspenders technically wouldn't need any sewing changes, but the clip-on style are notorious for pulling off when you're doing things. And while the pattern includes instructions for adding elastic to the waistband, I wasn't confident it would do the job I wanted (I stick a fair amount of junk in my pockets and elastic can't always cope with the weight).

After some dithering, I went with the suspender option for this pair. I like the look of them, and the "floating" effect they give when they pull the waistband a bit above where gravity wants it to sit is extremely comfortable. But I didn't want to deal with clips always popping off. So I indulged in a quick side-quest of improving my suspenders, then sewed buttons into the waistband of the culottes.

This used to hold the clips, but the wire was easy to bend flat with needle-nose pliers.

Gee, I wonder which buttonhole I did first?

Fashion Show

Overall, I'm quite happy with how it all came together. I'll definitely be making at least two more pairs - the "men's" version (less flare in the hems), likely out of recycled denim, and a pair in heavyweight stash linen.

The back panel adjustment is basically unnoticeable.

They have great range of movement - maybe I need to make a workout pair?

And I even have somewhere to hang my keys.

This post was originally published on my blog, Garak's Apprentice . I currently syndicate my content at Micro.blog, Tumblr, and Ko-Fi.

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[wolfnight2012]

Yes, Nandor fell to his knees when the Baron dumped "Guillermo's" body in the foyer. (In Front Of his entire family [sans Colin Robinson] and the Baron!) As if he could no longer bring himself to care about who saw him break down/how weak he might be perceived

Yes, cradled (what he thought was) Guillermo's dead body

Yes, his little half-sobbed "Oh, no" was very telling & heartbreaking

But let's talk about his positively distraught cries when he thought Laszlo was gonna desecrate Guillermo's corpse???

Because that's Guillermo to him. As in, that's still Guillermo to Nandor, even as a corpse.

And that's not something we see often with vampires in the wwdits world

Vampires here seem to simply accept death & move on. Once someone/something is considered dead, it is time to move on

Our main characters do it with the Baron. He gets fried to a crisp, they bury him, say a few half-hearted words, and move on (he's Nadja's sire! He had a trist with both her and Laszlo. He's like, their unofficial superior/boss, in that he can order them to take over North America & just like, move into their home?)

They do it with Colin Robinson, twice! Both when he fakes his death in 2x05 (simply bury him & say a few words) and to a lesser(ish) extent when he "dies" on his 100th birthday (few words, few sentimental touches & thats it, we move on)

Nadja does it with her reincarnated lover, able to drop him/forget about him the moment he dies

iirc, the only instances that don't follow this pattern is when the dead person isn't considered truly dead (yet)

Nandor wastes no real time grieving Gail, because she's not dead dead (yet) he can fix her! She's temporarily not alive at worst.

Topher, similarly, can be revived (or so they think) so he's not dead dead either, because he can be fixed. Once its clear he can't be truly fixed, they can easily discard & forget about him.

Young Colin Robinson isn't dead dead either. His adult self is alive & well (and back) Laszlo is simply grieving the fatherhood/son that only exists in his memories.

Guillermo is dead dead. Either because vampirism only takes immediately after death or because the Baron would simply kill him again, turning him into a vampire isn't an option. (And I like to think they learned their lesson with the necromancer/zombie!Topher)

Guillermo is dead dead & everyone reacts accordingly: the Baron chills out immediately, even feeling a little bad (not for Guillermo's death, he was only a familiar after all) for causing a fellow vampire/one of the vampires he's arguably closer to pain

Nadja (who was fighting & scheming & panicked to save him) declares he should be buried before he starts to stink. She might care about Guillermo & consider him family (even if she'd never say those actual words) but the body on the floor isn't Guillermo anymore, it's just a corpse that needs disposing.

Meanwhile, Nandor has accepted Guillermo's death; he's not planning on how to revive him/bring him back.

Guillermo is dead dead.

But Nandor is still protective of what he should only consider to be a corpse now. That's still Guillermo to him.

He cradles him up off the floor. He gently brushes his hair back. He's distraught at the thought of Laszlo cutting him up, even in death.

Anyways, there's zero chance of Nandor trying to kill Guillermo in earnest. That man could not handle the emotional toll

[pigeonpeach]

Be my muse

Chiori x fem oni reader

Summary: Chiori is trying to court her big oni friend but they’re too insecure to realize it.

A/n: I’ll be doing more fem oni x character series simply because its fun. But if there’s a certain character you’d like then let me know

“Hmm… maybe this blue would match your horns better.” Chiori, the renowned stylist in Inazuma had you stood on a pedestal standing straight as she threw at you a variety of kimonos and yukatas to wear. As a blue oni you weren’t accustomed to human society to well. Fashion isn’t really a big deal to Oni kind.. like at all… in fact most oni’s only wear thick and concealing garments in the winter. Most walk around with their chests exposed. As a blue oni you were also used to the scrutiny that you faced. Being considered a monster, a demon. All sorts of names.

Yet when you ran into Chiori one day while you were collecting lavender melons she seemed not to even consider you any different to herself. Even if you did tower over her, she showed zero fear. You couldn’t help but admire her as she would visit your hut in the wilderness on Narukami Island frequently. She was curious about your culture and your family but also your style. Turns out she HATED your pratical and unfashionable wardrobe and sought to make something better. According to her it is a crime that you decorate yourself with such hideous clothes. You foolishly challenged her to make something better than.

That’s thing about Chiori, she loves a challenge. Chiori loves to go outside the normal kimono patterns and flowing fabrics. She loves to experiment and draw inspiration from all over teyvat. So when you challenged her to make a outfit suited both for the life of a mercenary and a oni that still fits her stands of beautiful she saw a golden opportunity. You didn’t even have to pay a cent, but you did become her mannequin for the next few months.

“Look, Chiori I didn’t think you would take that joke so seriously.” You said as she placed yet another mock up on you. “I’m worried… shouldn’t you be making prettier dresses for your store?”

“You know its not like I’m wasting time. I’m still balancing my normal workload. Infact this is good because the more variety I can have the more attention I’ll bring.” She responds, not even looking up as she sews a piece to the slev

“I don’t think people look at mercenaries and wonder where they got their clothes.”

“They would if more mercenaries didn’t dress so hideously.” She remarks.

“Well..-“

“Don’t give me that practicality argument I’ve hear it all before. I’ve offered you a job as my assistant to which is significantly less dangerous.”

“My job isn’t that dangerous. I can handle the treasure hoarders and hilichurls with ease.”

“I don’t want you too though.” She says, you sense something different with her tone as she stitches a hole she spotted shut. Her hands moving the string as a spider weaves its web. It appears you’re too entangled in her strings to leave so easily now.

“I-I appreciate that.” You say. “But being your assistant would be difficult. I can’t travel with you..” you frown as you remember how she mentioned how she wanted to leave inazuma. You cannot however, being a Oni you were far removed from society especially In it’s paperwork. You have no travel papers or birth certificate because you born in a clan of Onis who saw no reason for such documents, your birth wasn’t officially registered with the Inazuma government as many others were. Which means you can’t legally travel outside of Inazuma. That’s what the lady in Ritou said at least.

“I’d stay if you wanted me too.” She said, her hands stopped their work as she looked up at you with a look that made you melt. “You’re beautiful you know, beyond your pretty face and soft hair… you’re far from what they say about you. You’re not a brute, you’re not even cruel, you have the biggest heart I’ve seen.” You can’t help but blush. She’s rarely as sweet as she is now.

“I don’t want to hold you back. You deserve to see the world, and I don’t want you to be stuck here.”

“If you could… would you go with me?” She asks. You pause. Leaving Inazuma would be a privilege. You only heard tales of the other nations and what it was like. You only saw a few trinkets from the other nations. What would it be like to feel the wind in Mondstadt, or to go swimming in Fontaine, supposedly you could breathe underwater. You’ve heard endless praise of the dishes in Liyue from the merchants you helped to escort. You even got to try one and you found they weren’t exaggerating. Perhaps you just never allowed yourself to dream of actually going there because you doubted that would ever be real.

“I would love to.” You say. “To explore the world with you would be a pleasure.”

Silence falls between you as you tense up. Did that freak her out? You weren’t sure if she was into you or not. Oni customs are quite different. You had read about human customs sure but you still couldn’t tell. She pulls away gesturing for you to spin around. You do.

“That Lady in Ritou.. she’s the one who told you that you couldn’t leave right?” She asked. You felt concerned, It wasn’t unlike Chiori to be a bit vindictive if she felt upset at someone.

“Yes, what did you do to her?”

“Well I had a word with her, and I found out she was full of it. You can easily file for a birth certificate as long as your parents come with you to testify its correct. It just costs a bit of mora.” She says going back to sewing.

“Yes I’m aware of that too. Its why I started my Mercenary career.”

“I could pay for it… save your money for the ticket out of here. Those government officals love to overcharge. Someone like you seems easy to fool. You’re too kind to them.”

“To be fair I have to be. If I’m even slightly mean or angry they act like I’m going on a rampage. My behaviors don’t just affect how they perceive me, but my entire species. I have to be calm otherwise they won’t even give me a chance.” You lament.

“I’ll be mean then, you know I have a bite to me. They can’t say anything if its me pushing on your behalf.” She says with a mischievous smile.

“But it could ruin your reputation.” You say

“With who? I could care less what they think of me. Those kind of people aren’t worth a cent of my time anyways.” She say’s confidently. “People don’t ask. Fashion designer to be their friend they ask a fashion designer to make them look good infront of their friends.” You smile as she again shuts down your worries about her. You’re not used to this. You’re used to fighting and arguing just to prove you have heart. You’re used to beans being tossed and always having to give a second chance when they realize they were wrong. You try to be understanding, you try to be otherwise you’ll be seen as unreasonable. But Chiori isn’t like that. She once kicked out a customer because they screamed at you throwing beans when you were just bringing her textiles in. She yelled at how disrespectful they were to her staff and that they wouldn’t ever be welcomed in her shop.

“Hey. Stop overthinking.” She smacked your face guiding you to look down. In your thoughts she moved to your front to start tying your custom obi.

“I’m not overthinking this time actually… i was just thinking about something.”

“If anyone in the outside world is threatened by you I’ll correct their assumptions. You really need to let me help you here.”

“Actually… i was just thinking about you…” you say, her eyes widen slightly, a rare sight as her confident frown is replaced with confusion. “You… thank you Chiori… I-I’m just..not used to someone like yourself…” you smile as she shakes her head briefly before regaining her composure.

“Its really not that big of a deal. Now, tell me.. did I surpass your expectations?” She says moving out of the way so you can see your new outfit in the mirror. You smile, not because its the most beautiful you’ve ever felt for a woman your size, but because she looks at you like you are one. Your confidence is boosted by the clear pride she exhibits in it.

“Even better than I could’ve imagined.” You say. She raises her head in pride.

“Well good, I can get started on the others now.”

“Wait what?”

“Well, you don’t expect to travel teyvat with only one fancy garment do you?”