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invinciblerodent · 9 months ago

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I'm very sad and disappointed that so many people think that the price difference is arbitrary, or simply because of the material cost, and therefore decide based on that that actually, it's not ethical to charge more, and that prices should be equalized. Honestly, I think quite a few people in the notes are fundamentally misunderstanding how fiber arts work, or how much of a difference there is in the amount of time differently sized pieces might take to make.

I'm a crocheter. I wear a size large, and make clothing for my personal use. I've also sold some of my work before, and have spoken to many people who handmake and sell clothing items and toys. The absolutely overwhelming majority of those I know calculate their pricing based partly on material cost, yes, but the biggest part of the price is made up by the cost of their manual labor, which is often calculated based on an hourly wage- not an arbitrary clothing size assigned to the finished item.

Understand this in a way like... if, say, a cardigan or whatever in a small-ish adult size takes maybe (guesstimating here) 5 skeins of yarn and 20 hours to make, the creator would buy the yarn for the project, charge for the cost of that, see how long it took to complete the project, and multiply a previously agreed upon hourly wage by the number of hours, which in this case is 20. If another item made in the same design takes 10 skeins and 40 hours (which would be a fairly large piece, but still fairly average imo), the price is calculated based on the same metric. If the smaller item is a more intricate design and takes more time to make, but the same amount of yarn, the price is changed according to how much more time it takes. (Though I only ever sold amigurumi which is easier to price, I personally used to calculate time based on stitch count: with my average of 18 sc/minute, I could calculate roughly how many stitches an item was, and give what I think is a very fair estimate for the amount of time it took to make, which didn't even include a bathroom break or anything- I didn't even round up to full hours; all I charged for was the amount of time it would have taken if I had sat down, and cranked the thing out like a machine without stopping for as much as taking a sip of water.)

Buying/commissioning handmade clothing is not at all like going to the store, and buying a machine-knit sweater from a large retailer. An individual creator who makes each stitch by hand (many of whom already severely undervalue their own skill and labor, often charging far below minimum wage for the utterly stunning, very skilled work they do) can't swallow the cost difference like a big business can, if they charge the same for all items. We don't crank out hundreds of the same sweater in a wide range of sizes, and shrug off cost differences because the bulk of the labor is done by a machine, and the sales of the smaller sizes easily make up for the small increase in material costs for the larger ones. No, most individual creators can maybe make 1-2 comparable sweaters per month, unless we want to absolutely annihilate our joints- and those aren't even sure to sell, unless they were made to order to begin with. (I already need compression gloves to work for longer periods of time without pain because I pushed myself too far a few years ago, and I'm not even 30 yet.)

Yes, it's perfectly ethical to charge more for a handmade item in a larger size. Not because of the greater material cost (although that may factor into the pricing), or because of some twisted fatphobic sentiment, not because the creator wants to punish the customer for the crime of having a larger body to clothe, but because more fabric just takes that much more labor to make by hand.

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kirby-the-gorb · 2 years ago

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#kirby #daily kirby #my art #digital #hal laboratory #nintendo #I have made One Sock.#(I got a sock machine immediately before our last move so it took a while to learn to use it on account of the... everything.)#I don't have enough of this yarn to make a second sock #and I don't like wearing this yarn anyway cuz I can feel it binding against itself #but it's cute! and it means I know how to make socks now!#not really sure what to do with one handmade sock tho.#(and yes it is still handmade even though I used a knitting machine - it's hand cranked and all)#favorites

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ophelialoveshandsomemen · 3 years ago

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Cristo y Tú vivís en mi corazón.

Capítulo Dos.( second chapter.)

Warnings: mentions of blood, wounds, seizures, medical procedures, self indulgent use of an ABBA song, Catholicism, maybe a swear or two. If you are under 18…please go to sleep instead and do not read my works!!!!

Medikua; is Basque for Doctor. Espagnole is French for Spaniard. I realize he’s not a spaniard but hispanic however she doesn’t know that and espagnole can sorta mean someone who speaks spanish if you will.

And yeah, I used an ABBA song. Guilty pleasure of mine and -Fernando- just shouts romance with El Catorce for me, so voila! Enjoy!

***********************************************************************************

Medikua Hermenigilde Hortense, or Doc Hortense as he is more commonly known, is Isabeau's nearest neighbour from 6 and 3/4's of a mile away. A kind 88 year old man of Basque and French descent and the best medical man this side of the Atlantic, he came over to ask Isabeau if she could perhaps spare him an onion or two for his supper. Then promptly found her hunched over a strange, injured Hispanic man almost a km into her 'woods'. Luckily, he rode the donkey cart in. Making the delicate job of transporting said caballero back to the house much more stress free.

Isabeau sat on the floor of the cart, the ragged cotton quilt he keeps on his seat to fend off the cold now draped across her lap to cushion the patient's head. As his donkey walked the trail to her house, the doc turned his head towards the back. The stranger is still unconscious, and Isabeau gently brushes his hair from his forehead, with her right hand keeping steady pressure on his wounds.

That punctured lung is worrying him. Not because he doesn't have the equipment to treat such an injury. Of course he has the correct equipment, he is, after all, ex-military and he knows people, for God's sake. But because it's a punctured lung caused by a machine gunshot, something the good doctor can spot a mile away. Those are never pretty or easy to treat and almost always end fatally. How this young pup has stayed alive for this long is beyond him! Must be his guardian angel putting in much needed overtime...

*******************************************************************************************

Isabeau has officially gone into shock. Or a panic attack. In this situation there can't be much difference, one is just as useless as the other. She vaguely wonders if it's a result of falling out of the cherry tree or of finding a badly wounded, Hispanic man in her woods. Both, in all honesty.

She still cradles his head in her lap and is monitoring his breathing almost constantly.

'"Doc, his breathing is getting to be quite laboured. Can I do something?"

Doc hears the heavy worry saturating her tone. And makes the donkey pick up his pace.

" Alright, try hanging his legs off the end of the cart, get his blood to rush to his feet instead of into his lungs. And settle his back fully on your lap to elevate his heart level even more. But do it slowly, girl. Slow and steady."

He turned back his head many times as he ordered her to ensure she didn't accidently jostle the boy wrong. He had noticed her complexion become paler. "Breathe, Isabeau, breathe! I don't need the both of you passed out in a donkey cart on me. I'm far too old to deal with this all by myself."

She wordlessly nodded. Her returning nausea didn't thank her for it. She subconsciously and minutely tightened her grip around the caballero's shoulders, consequentially pressing his scalp further against her stomach, mildly alleviating her need to lose her guts. She could feel his shallow breath in the crook of her left arm, quick, wheezing in and outs with a few of the inhales resulting in short choking fits. By now, both her arms and her naked thighs made her appear to be a human incarnation of a battlefield, stained scarlet with the lifeblood of young men, ( or of one young man, in this instance).

His heartbeat, Isabeau could faintly feel thrumming in a rhythm too slow and unsteady for her comfort.

She began to sing. Softly. For her comfort. For his comfort. In order to forget the pain in her head from the fall. In hopes to ground the wounded man in her arms. To gently guide him back to the land of the living through his sense of hearing. Isabeau knows from both her studies in university and her own brief dabblings in mild hypnosis and lucid subconsciousness that a person who has lost consciousness, either from sleep, or pain, or loss of blood, can still register, deep in the recesses of their mind, sounds and voices and even full conversations. But they especially hear singing.

So, Isabeau sings.

The melody is the first that pops up in her brain, a song from one of the numerous cd's she keeps in her 2001 Ford f-250 King Ranch. An ABBA Gold cd, if she recalls correctly. She can't remember all the words, so instead she hums when her mind is blank of lyrics.

Can you hear the drums, Fernando? I remember long ago another starry night like this.

They hit a tiny bump in the road, not even enough to bother the steed pulling the cart, but more than enough to send a jolt of pain coursing through the caballero.

In the firelight, Fernando

The pain noticeable in the wince upon his face, causing the girl to expect him to awaken soon. However much she dreads to see the pain etched on his brow, at least he would show more sign of life than now. She continues to hum.

You were singing to yourself and softly strumming your guitar!

A thought briefly flitters across her mind. She wonders if he plays guitar? Or perhaps he sings? Maybe his voice is strong, loud and boisterous. Or is it smooth and deep? Or he dances? Perhaps none of these and he prefers to sits in the sidelines and enjoy the talents of others instead...

And I'm not afraid to say the roar of guns and cannons almost made me cry!

" Almost there cerisette, which door?" "Uh...the back garden door has no stairs and is the closest to my bedroom." "Oh, your bedroom huh!" "My bed's on the floor. Easier to care for him that way."

There was something in the air that night. The stars were bright, Fernando!

Her chorus much slower and more weary than the original.

They were shining down for you and me, for liberty, Fernando!

The doctor steers the cart off the driveway and towards the house.

Though we never thought that we could lose, there's no regret.

They round the last corner of the house, stopping a few feet away from the door, back end turned to the door.

If I had to do the same again, I would, my friend, Fernando!

******************************************************************************************* Three Hours Later....

Isabeau was exhausted.

They'd been barely successful in carrying the still unknown man into her bed before he slightly awoke, only for him to begin having seizures while she went away in her pickup to Doc's house, grabbing the direly needed equipment for the procedure. Mercifully, he'd only had two minor fits before Doc stabilized him enough to treat the wounds.

Which had taken nearly three hours.

She'd held his hand through most of it. But no one, including herself, could genuinely tell you if she'd done that for his comfort or her own...

She honestly can't recall much else.

She stood in the bathroom down the hall from her bedroom, furiously but tiredly scrubbing at the blood stubbornly caught beneath her fingernails, staining her hands, sticking to the plush hairs on her arms, seeped deep into the fabric of the old yellow plaid shirt she'd swapped her lacy 70's top for...

Her thoughts were disrupted by the good old doc gently placing his freshly washed hands upon her shoulder.

" Get some rest cerisette. The sun may still be awake but you shouldn't be. The caballero is safe now...and so are you. " He sighs. " I am going home for a few hours. Call me if you need me. But get some rest."

With that, Doc Hortense leaves the room. And yes, he did grab a proffered onion on the way.

*******************************************************************************************

She carefully pads across her own bedroom, silent as a Trappist monk, to not disturb her espagnole, as she's begun to call him in her mind. She decides against simply grabbing her sleep clothes and changing somewhere else. Instead she stays standing before her dresser, in full view of son espagnole if he were to awaken. Which he doesn't. She swaps her soiled plaid shirt and jeans shorts for a comfortable pair of well-worn navy flannel pants and a soft long sleeved beige cotton undershirt. No underpinnings either. Girl likes her freedom too much to subject herself to that.

Still a tad too wired up to fully rest, what with the time only being around 8:30 or so, Isabeau cautiously rummages through his minor belongings. Carelessly thrown to the side whilst his life was in danger, now she takes everything in her hands as if it's a precious object. She gingerly folds the white linen jacket, the torn beige button-up, the filthy knit cotton undershirt and the striped wool pants, putting them to the side to be washed later.

Next come the gun holsters and the bullet belts, made of beautifully well crafted leather, the stitching somehow immaculate. Without a doubt handmade. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Isabeau gets the barest nudge that there is no way in hell this was made within the last 50 years. They seem worn: however, they can't be older than a three or four years.

What intrigues her the most about the belts and the holsters, besides being nearly completely full, is the embroidered cross upon the pistol holster. No outlaw trusts that much in God, but no soldier dresses like this. Perhaps a revolutionary from Southern America way back...in...the...

She quickly makes the connection between the guns and the age of the leather and the medallion of La Virgen, the fact that he was shot by a machine gun, mass manufactured and distributed to many governments by Americans in the time she's thinking of.. She may be wrong, but an inkling tells her that she probably isn't. She walks hurriedly back to the bed, sits gently cross-legged on the side where she will rest and softly stares at her sleeping espagnole. Several minutes, or maybe hours, pass and then, she whispers, to the unconscious man, to the dark, to the angels, to God, to herself.

"There's a Cristero in my bed!"

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If you would like to be tagged let me know!

#el catorce #for greater glory #for greater glory fanfiction #victoriano 'el catorce' ramirez x ofc #Victoriano Ramirez #oscar isaac #character fandom #catholicism #tw; blood #tw; medical procedures #tw; mentions of seizures

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thesolitarystripe · 3 years ago

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Writing Prompt # 8: A 96-year-old woman’s phone number is one digit away from that of the suicide hotline. She could have changed it long ago, but she does not mind.

Here's your TW: Talk of familial loss, mention of suicide.

I found this writing prompt on tumblr from writing-prompts-re and for whatever reason it spoke to me. I just thought, what an endearing prompt for a subject that could potentially be so dark. It is dark, it's sad, and what a rainbow a little old woman painted over it. At least, in my head. I've been slumping back into that habit of losing my motivation. I'm not sure why. I'm giving myself the grace to do what I can and not beat myself up over it. Finding this writing prompt sparked it up all over again for me. It made me really miss my grandma. While I don't think she ever had this problem, I know she would have been just as comforting as Myrtie. In a way, I think I wrote this for her. I love you Nonni! Thank you for always being a soft spot to land. Enjoy.

Another Friday evening, another Jeopardy re-run. Myrtle, or as all her friends used to call her—Myrtie sat within the comfort of her reddish, brown recliner that was much too big for her. Always a petite woman, she looked like a twelve-year-old with the way the cushions swallowed her thin limbs, but she also appeared immeasurably comfortable. Myrtie pulled up the purple knitted blanket over her knees, gently tugged up the arms of her robe over both wrists as her hands lifted, poised with knitting needles and she began to bring yet another blanket into existence. This was how Myrtie spent most of her evenings, swaddled in a plush terry cloth robe, a pair of thick socks pulled up to the calf, and her hair resting beneath a bonnet, wrapped in curlers. Beside her was a cup of decaffeinated tea and a plate of cookies. Myrtie’s hands, while weathered by 96 years of life, worked the needles flawlessly as if they were an extension of a machine designed exactly for the purpose of knitting large lounging blankets. Every so often, she would giggle over something Alex Trebek would say to the participants on the show but save from the singsong chuckle, the room was silent. Myrtie had lost her husband twenty years ago. After marrying at the age of eighteen, it had been a difficult transition into this life alone. A life without his stories, hugs and forgetfulness. Myrtie often smiled sadly, wishing now for a sock to be left out of place or for the trash to be forgotten on the side of the house on garbage day. All those little things that would always make her so furious with her spouse, they were the details she missed most. Myrtie survived much longer than most of her friends, save for one that had gone to live inside a facility. They never spoke much, Myrtie assumed that either her friend had limited access to her phone or was too busy hustling the other residents in Bingo to bother calling. Myrtie was grateful for her loving and supportive family, but they could do nothing during the lonely nights when they went home to their families. She could not blame them. So, when her phone rang every so often late at night, Myrtie would answer. When the calls first began, she thought it odd that telemarketers would call so late but she soon realized her mistake.

This night, when her landline phone rang, she picked up the corded antique beside her and spoke.

“Hello?” Her voice held that raspy quiver that all good grandmothers had.

“I think I’m done.” The voice was new to her.

“Done? Done with what sweetheart?” There was a pause, as if the other voice sensed something was off but the draw of Myrtie’s kind voice urged them on.

“With living. With the world. I’m done here.”

“Oh, surely there’s things to stick around for,” Myrtie said, fluffing out her half-knitted blanket as she tucked the phone against her shoulder and ear to better use both hands.

“I don’t have anyone.”

“You have yourself. Isn’t he worth living for?” Another beat of silence. “You sound like you’re being too hard on yourself, your importance in the world does not hang on teeter-tottering validation of other people, honey. To be loved by others is a wonderful thing but loving yourself is just as important. Why don’t you stick around for yourself?”

“I’m lonely! Why would I want to be alone?”

“That is a good question, baby. Loneliness is so hard.” Myrtie’s hands paused, her heart gave one of those familiar throbs as it related to the young soul on the other end of the phone. Loneliness was something she was well acquainted with. “Before you go, have you got time for a story?”

“Well…yeah, I guess…”

Myrtie straightened up in her recliner, stretched out her back, and sighed. “I was married at eighteen years old to the love of my life. Albert. Goodness was he handsome! Now, we spent the first few years of our marriage apart—he went off to serve our beloved country. I was so desperately lonely without him. It didn’t matter that I had friends who called me up every day, parents to have supper with at night, I even watched the neighbor’s kids next door for a little spending money, and as busy as they kept me, I could never shake that feeling. When he came back, oh, it was the best day of my life! We spent the next fifty-six years together, every day! We had five beautiful children, a handful of pets that came and went, we lived in two different states and bought over four different cars.” Myrtie sat there smiling, her knuckles buried in the thick knots of her craft. “I miss him every day, it’s been twenty years and I still roll over in bed and miss the sight of him lying there, snoring.” Myrtie laughed. “Oh Lord how he snored! It was like someone was chopping down logs all night. I hated him for it,” her laugh tapered off in that pensive way, as her heart remembered fondly the memory then internalized the pain of it. “I would give anything to hear it now.”

There was silence. Sixty seconds of silence.

“Someone’s going to miss you like that, honey.”

A soft sob rustled against the receiver of the phone.

“I don’t know who you all have in your life, but I know you have a mama and a daddy. Even if things aren’t good between you now, they’ll miss you like that. Even if you haven’t spoken in years, they’ll miss the way you laughed, the way you hugged, the way you smelled even when you were nothing but a stinky young thing! Sometimes loneliness clouds our vision of all the people we do have. It is so easy to want for something, to be lonely because what we have doesn’t live up to what we think we should have. A girlfriend, boyfriend, spouse, best friend of forever, doting parents—we all have some sort of expectation. We are human and that is perfectly all right. I’ll tell you what though, there are no shoulds. Don’t let those insidious little shoulds run your life. I should this, I should that—toss that notion away, baby. There is just what is, what you want and what you don’t want. You got someone that loves you? Even one person that you’re not quite thinking of?”

“Yes…” a soft sniffle followed the confession.

“Good, all you really need is you baby but, I’m glad you have someone looking out for you. They’ll be missing you something fierce if you decide to be done. Even if they’re all you got, remember it’s about quality. Albert was my only friend for as long as I can remember. Sure, I met some ladies over the years and we gabbed and baked and knitted together but—the quality of those relationships were different. Don’t cheapen the idea of the one you have just because you think you need a lot! It’s better to have one person at your funeral to speak on what a wonderful person you were than be lying dead in a room full of people with nothing to say. What do you think about calling them right now and telling them what’s on your heart? You think that might help? If not, I’m happy to keep chatting with you, sweetheart. I ain’t got nothing to do but finish up this blanket I’m knitting. My kids already have ten of them in each of their houses so maybe I’ll just give this one to you. You like purple?”

There was a soft laugh that responded. “It’s a good color,” he said with a deep breath, one that sounded like it cleansed years of his life.

“Yeah, it is, baby. I’ll finish it for you and when you come to get it, I’ll make sure to have some cookies on for you. We’ll sit and chat and make sure you’re doing all right, hm?”

“That sounds nice,” he was chuckling again, the remnants of his tears still dripping off his face. “I think—I think I’m going to call my friend Greg.”

“All right, well tell Greg I said hello. He’s welcome to come with you now, sound good?”

“Sounds perfect.” Another silence followed. It was only broken by another slow breath. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“Thanks for calling honey. You have my number now so don’t be leaving grandma Myrtie without saying goodbye! Promise me.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

“Good. Go call Greg now, I’ll talk to you soon.”

“I will, bye Myrtie.”

The phone clicked and Myrtie hung up her landline with a soft clack of its plastic body. Myrtie knew there would be no visitation from her new friend. It was what she offered to all of them, a place to escape their loneliness. A reminder that while life’s peaks and valleys were relentless, there was always something to look forward to. Even if it was just a warm plate of cookies and a handmade blanket. Myrtie knew her phone number was one digit away from the suicide hotline. She pieced that together after receiving a dozen calls from hurting hearts. At first, she thought to hang up but, something about the way the broken words of other human beings dipped into her soul—she knew she could not let them go. Myrtie had no idea if anything she ever said actually helped someone, if they stayed. What she did know is that it helped her. In her own loneliness, it was like a salve on her own heart to know that others shared the same feelings but soldiered on despite the pain. Myrtie had lived within the dark recesses of her own mind and found light only in those around her once she willed herself to be open to seeing the love she did have, even if it wasn’t Albert’s. Myrtie reached over and grabbed her teacup, put it to her lips, rocked in her recliner, and looked at the phone. She hoped it would always ring when it needed to.

#creativewriting #writingprompts #writing #me writing #thesolitarystripe #author #tw #tw sui mention #tw loss

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emilygracefleck · 4 years ago

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I don’t think I’m fit to live in the world as it is now. I’m not meant to work 9-5, or 6-2, or any other variable. I literally can’t do it.

The things I am good at and what I could see myself doing (easily) for 8 hours a day five days a week are limited; mainly working with yarn. And it kills me that I was born in a time where it’s not possible to make a living wage working with your hands unless it’s factory work.

We live in a society where knitted and sewn goods are made in sweatshops and they sell for so cheap, society as whole can’t fathom paying for the labor it takes to make these items. The sheer amount of work that it takes to sew, knit, crochet- you only know if you do it yourself. And because you can knit with machines, and you can pay mere cents for starving children and women in some “far away” country to sew shit, there’s no point in traditionally knitted socks, or paying for hand-sewn items (notice, how easily I said hand-sewn when referring to an item made by your average westerner, but did not use the term when talking about sweatshops? Even though it’s literally the same amount of work per item).

If I was born earlier; perhaps, two hundred years ago, it would’ve been easy. I would’ve been the one to spin yarn and make it into clothes necessary to keep my community warm for winter; I would’ve partaked in some farm work, but mostly could’ve done what I do best.

But no. No, I’m alive now, and I’m forced to choose a career even though my calling is yarn work. I’m forced to choose something I’m either vaguely interested about, or perhaps got hyper-focused on once, and then I’m forced to fight my way through college (failed once already, yai) and get a job that pays semi well and do that until I die, or just straight go for a factory that absolutely wrecks people’s bodies (slipped discs, knee problems, pinched nerves, you name it - my factory working family has had it all).

And yes, some people do manage to make their living by making hand-made items, but doing that requires skill beyond making said items; you have to market yourself super well, have unique ideas, perhaps run a successful blog while you’re at it, and it’s not so simple (not when you’re neurodivergent). It isn’t enough that you’re able to make pretty and/or useful things. And even if you have all these things; great idea, good product, good marketing, well, none of it matters unless people are willing to pay enough to have a living wage. And that is never going to happen, not when the majority of your potential customers are themselves struggling on minimum wage and even if they do have a bit more disposable income on their hands, not many are willing to pay for ethical work when they can get a similar product for 4 times less from any clothing store. Unless sweatshops become illegal, there’s no room for ethically handmade products to sell well.

With all that said I’m still glad I don’t have to face so much homophobia or sexism tho

#rant #society #sweatshops #diy #handmade #angry #sad #sadgirl #depression #anxiety #capitalism

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n3rdybird · 7 years ago

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A Woolly Hat

Written for @simons-thirst-squad’s Simon’s Advent Calendar Challenge

Prompt-Woolly Hat

SimonxReader

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It all started with a package left outside his room. Simon had a rough day, and was ready to call it a night. Although keeping track of the days, it was generally believed to be near the middle of December.

And if the weather was any indication, it was shaping up to be a cold winter. Even the hot water afforded to the citizens of the Sanctuary didn’t seem to be enough to fully warm him up. He kept his towel around his neck, using it as a makeshift scarf to keep in what little warmth the shower had given him.

So when he saw a bag hanging from the door to his room, Simon was a little confused. He glanced up and down the hallway, seeing if whoever had left the package was still around. The dark hallway was empty and quiet, only the ever present hum of machines reverberated through the building. It was after curfew after all.

Seeing no one, he grabbed the bag and entered his room. He hung his towel up and turned the gift bag over in his hands. There was no note on the outside, so he assumed it was for him and opened the bag. Inside was a pair of gloves. As he examined them, he saw that they were handmade. The knitted stitches were even and tight, but did not have the appearance of a pair made by machine. The yarn was smooth, dark blue with brown accents.

When he tried them on, they fit well, keeping his hands warm while still allowing for movement. Each stitch flexed easily, but stayed snug against his skin. He pawed through the rest of the bag, but there was no note explaining the gift or who it was from.

Simon yawned, the events of the day catching up with him. Giving the gloves one more look, he removed them and set them down on his desk. He’d worry about the mystery gift tomorrow. The comfort of his warm bed beckoned to him, and the fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

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The next few days passed without incident. Simon was thankful for the new gloves that had appeared at his door. His old pair had gotten ragged, allowing wisps of cold air to stiffen his fingers. Now his hands stayed warm and decidedly not stiff.

While walking with Negan one morning to survey the supply trucks that had returned that morning, the aforementioned boss zeroed in on the new addition to Simon’s wardrobe.

“Pretty fancy gloves you got there, Simon,” Negan said offhand.

Simon flexed his hands.

“Yeah, pretty nice,” he said simply.

“Where’d ya get them? Looks homemade.”

Simon shrugged.

“Got left at my door.”

Negan’s eyes lit up and his mouth split into a shit eating grin.

“Oh ho, does Simon have a secret admirer?”

Simon internally groaned. Negan may be king dick in charge, but he could be like a gossipping soccer mom when he wanted.

“I don’t know about that. Probably a thank you gift from someone. The people love their Saviors,” he evaded.

Negan didn’t want to let the matter drop. After all, needling people was one of his favorite past times. Negan liked to think he was a pretty fair guy, so even his second-in-command was not safe from this activity.

“Wonder if she’s cute? I know there is till some prime wife material running around,” he mused out loud.

When Simon only hmm’d in response, Negan shook his head.

“What’s the matter? Don’t want a little lady to come home to? Knitting you socks? Shit, that sounds nice. Wonder what else she could knit?” Negan trailed off as he let his mind wander.

Simon thought about Negan's words. He had a few companions since the world fell, and never more than a night. It was all stress relief, more like mutual masturbation than anything including feelings. In the beginning, the world was unstable, too unstable to pursue anything of merit. Even now, with the security of Sanctuary, the idea of having something serious with someone seemed farfetched.

Simon was broken from his thoughts when Negan’s hand came down abruptly on his shoulder.

“Or… it could be a guy,” Negan said, raising his brows exaggeratedly.

Simon’s groans were audible this time, and Negan laughed at his reaction. The mustached man cut his eyes to his leader in annoyance.

“What? No judgements here,” Negan said twirling Lucille before raising his hands in a defensive shrug.

A shout drew the pair’s attention, and Simon was thankful for the interruption. Negan gave Simon a wink.

“Enough gossiping, apparently some assholes can’t do their jobs properly. Let’s get to work.”

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A few days later, another gift was left. Simon opened the bag quickly, and found a chunky knit cowl scarf folded neatly at the bottom.

This time, there was a note. He unfolded the scrap of paper, and smiled at the words written in a delicate script.

Glad the gloves fit. Stay warm.

Simon fingered the soft yarn. This time it was a dark grey. Instead of hanging, the ends of the scarf would button under his chin. It was as if the maker made it specifically with Simon’s job in mind. A dark color and no dangling bits for a walker to grab ahold of.

Negan once had a slight mishap when a walker grabbed his scarf from behind. After that, Negan made sure his trademark red scarf was tucked securely into his jacket.

Simon scoured the note, looking for any clue as to who had written it. The handwriting, he guessed, could be seen as feminine. The message itself was written on a random scrap of paper. No hints as to the identity of the person to be found.

As he held the gift in his hand, he was surprised that a literal lightbulb didn’t appear over his head.

The Marketplace. If they were getting yarn, it would have either been a perk from scavenging or bought with points. As far as he knew, none of the Saviors had a talent for knitting, so it had to be a worker. Plan and gift in hand, he headed to the communal area of the factory.

Despite the early hour, there were still people picking over organic pickles, new clothes, and other sundries. Simon nodded to several workers before coming to a stop in front of Shirley. She was in charge of deducting points for purchases and keeping the marketplace in some semblance of order.

Simon gave the octogenarian a winning smile as he leaned on her desk.

“Good morning sunshine.”

The older woman was living proof that the 80s were the new 60s. She had survived the initial outbreak alone in her house, shot gun in hand. When they had found her, Negan loved her no nonsense attitude when she berated them for wearing dirty boots inside her house. And now she ruled the Marketplace with an iron fist.

“Cut the baloney Simon,” she said dryly, not looking up from her ledgers.

“You wound me,” Simon said dramatically, clutching his hand to his chest.

Shirley sighed and looked at Simon, lowering her glasses to put the full force of her glare on him unhindered.

“What do you want?”

Simon produced the gloves and cowl, setting them on top of her books.

“You sell any yarn lately? Knitting supplies?”

Shirley furrowed her brows.

“Not too many people waste their points on craft supplies,” she said examining the items.

“Though these are pretty nice. They’d be good sellers.”

She looked back up at Simon who was looking at her expectantly.

“A name?”

Shirley held out her hand expectantly, raising a brow. Simon sighed.

“Aw, c’mon Shirl. We can call it a Christmas gift for your favorite Savior.”

She pursed her lips and flipped through her ledger.

“You find me a bottle of wine. Nice stuff, off the books.”

“Yes ma’am,” Simon agreed quickly.

As Shirley scanned the pages, she found the entry she was looking for and wrote down the details of the purchase.

She handed Simon the information, jerking it back when he reached for it.

“A red, preferably Cabernet. A shiraz will do if you can’t find one. Not a pussy Merlot.”

“You got it,” he said, thinking of the wine surplus that the Saviors had squirreled away.

Shirley gave him a long look before handing over the paper.

“Be nice to her. If I hear anything untoward, I will display your balls right here on my desk.”

Simon gave her a reassuring nod, while his balls seemed to climb back up into his body at her words.

“Now scat so I can get back to work.”

------------------------------------------------------

You sat in one of the greenhouses, knitting needles clacking between your fingers. The woolly hat you were working on was coming together quickly. Sure, a loom would be faster, but in your opinion, not as well made.

You had spent the last bit of your surplus points on the new yarn. It was thicker and a higher quality than your previous finds. It was perfect for a toboggan for a certain Savior.

Elsie, one of the other women working in the gardens had tried to convince you to just give Simon the gifts, rather than leave them for him to find. But you couldn’t. You fucked up your first and only meaningful interaction with the mustached Savior, and still felt embarrassed months later.

A shadow fell over you, and you nearly jumped to your feet. You scrambled to gather your things.

“Sorry Marv, I didn’t realize my break was over,” you said hastily, keeping your eyes down to not draw the ire of your boss.

A hand, slimmer than Marv’s, reached down to pluck the half finished hat out of your hand.

“This gonna be for me too?” a familiar voice asked.

You looked up to see Simon studying the hat’s stitches, careful to not let your hard work unravel.

“What?” you squeaked, not mentally nor physically prepared to see the object of your affection standing next to you, let alone talking to you.

“Your name is (Y/N), right? Work in the green houses. I asked around,” he said, still looking at the hat.

You chewed your lip, running through all the possible scenarios that could take place. All seemed to point to disaster.

Simon picked up on your unease and knelt next to you.

“Didn’t mean to scare ya. Just wanted to say thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you said softly, keeping your eyes to the ground, hoping your hair camouflaged your red face.

A warm hand cupped your chin and brought your eyes up to meet his.

“So what reason does a pretty gal like you have for giving an old man like me gifts?” he asked, giving you a smile.

“I wanted to say… thank you. You probably don’t remember, but you offered me gelato on my first day here,” you explained hesitantly, not wanting to revisit your embarrassing first meeting with him.

Simon’s eyes widened when he remembered the event.

“You ran away from me. Negan busted my balls for days after that. Said my mustache scared you off,” he said, laughing at the memory.

His laugh was infectious, and you couldn’t help but giggle softly.

“It wasn’t your mustache. I like it. You just took me off guard. I didn’t expect to draw the attention of the right hand man of Negan,” you explained through your laughter.

“You say that, but you are still laughing. I’m not sure if I believe you,” Simon said, mock pouting.

“I do, I do,” you promised.

Simon looked at you unconvinced.

“Prove it. Meet me for gelato, tonight after dinner. For real this time, no running.”

You felt your face heat up, but found yourself nodding at his request.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” you said.

Simon smiled, and stood up, offering a hand to help you up. It was then you noticed he was wearing your gloves, and the cowl you had made him.

You took his hand, and he helped you up easily. After standing, he kept a hold of your hand, giving it a soft squeeze.

“See you tonight,” he said, bringing your cold fingers up to his mouth to place a kiss on the tips.

You nodded, liking the way his mustache brushed against your skin.

“Tonight.”

#simon twd #simon the savior #simon x reader #simon x you #twd simon #The Walking Dead #twd fanfiction #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead fanfic #twd one shot #the walking dead one shot #simon one shot #simon's thirst squad #simons thirst squad #SimonsAdventChallenge

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statusreview · 6 years ago

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Black Friday Home Decor Deals (& What We’re Buying)

As is the tradition, I’ve scoured the Black Friday sales (is it me, or do they start earlier every year?) and rounded up my favorite home decor & furniture deals. And John already grabbed some tech items (he’s been waiting for this sale for a while). Our kitchen stools are under $96, our daughter’s bedroom rug is $350 off, and these velvet pillow covers are just $10! Our TV is also 42% off ($250 off!!), the smart plugs John loves are 58% off and his FBAT (favorite backpack of all time) is 65% 0ff. And so much more.

Stuff We Already Own (& Love!):

These are all things that we have bought with our own money, lived with, and love. And thanks to these crazy sale prices, you’re gonna get a better deal than we did. Let’s start with items you’ve probably seen around our Richmond house:

1 / Our Master Bed: Marked down to $599 from $900 (33% off)

2 / Emily Jeffords Art: Price depends on size, but Minted’s doing 20% off any art order over $150

3 / Our Foyer Pendant Light: Marked down to $223 from $298 (25% off with code CELEBRATE)

4 / Our Faux Magnolia Garland: Marked down to $60 from $80 (25% off)

5 / Our Bedroom Chandelier: Marked down to $339 from $399 (15% off)

6 / John’s Office Desk (we’ve had this for 10+ years!): Marked down to $339 from $399 (15% off)

7 / Decorative Ceramic Houses: Marked down to $12 from $15 (20% off)

8 / Our Foyer Console Table: Marked down to $322 from $380 (15% off + free shipping)

9 / Our Kitchen Island Stools: Marked down to $96 from $160 (40% off)

10 / Our Daughter’s Bedroom Rug (in gray): Marked down to $539 from $899 (40% off)

11 / Our Favorite Oversized Vases: Start at $25 – enter FREESHIP65

12 / Our Faux Gingko Branches: Marked down to $6.50 from $13 (50% off!)

13 / Our Dining Room Chandelier: Marked down to $339 from $399 (15% off)

14 / Our Living Room Chairs: Marked down to $145 from $170 (15% off)

15 / Our Daughter’s Inlay Mirror: Marked down to $320 from $770 (58% off)

16 / Our Office Chairs (in gray): Marked down to $300 from $400 (25% off with code OHWHATFUN)

17 / Our Favorite Gold Frames: Buy 1 Get 1 50% off

18 / Our Faux Eucalyptus Branches: $14.50 down from $24.50 (40% off)

There are also lots of deals on stuff that we’ve got in our beach house and have started filling the duplex with (like some lights I’m crazy for). And there are some BOSS deals in here too.

1 / Beach House Living Room Rug (ours is natural/ivory color): 6 x 9′ size is $169 down from $199 (15% off with code TAKE15)

2 / Beach Downstairs Bathroom Mirror: Huge (almost 2′ wide) and $39.99

3 / Beach House Living Room Chandelier: $179 down from $299 (40% off)

4 / Beach House Front Bedroom Rug: 8 x 10′ size is $598 down from $798 (25% off with code CELEBRATE)

5 / Duplex Foyer Globe Pendant: $105 down from $120.99 (13% off)

6 / Beach House Desk Clock: $14.99 (the wood + brass looks fancy for the price)

7 / Duplex Exterior Wall Lanterns: $96.87 for this HUGE size (they’re 20″ high!)

8 / Beach House Front Bedroom Blanket: $34 down from $40 (15% off)

9 / Beach House Living Room Bookcase: $296 down from $349 (15% off + free shipping)

10 / Beach House Office Lamp: $24.99 (looks really good for the price)

11 / Beach House Kitchen Island Pendants: Marked down to $126 from $267 (53% off)

12 / Beach House Front Bedroom Sconce: Marked down to $32 from $57 (43% off)

13 / Beach House Kitchen Art: $199 for GIANT size + free shipping + buy one get one 50% off

14 / Beach House Favorite Beach Towels: $19 with free shipping

15 / Beach House Kitchen Hardware: $16, 15% off orders of $100+, 20% off orders of $500

16 / Duplex Master Bathroom Light: On sale for $145 (looks even better in person)

17 / Beach House Kitchen Benches: $83 down from $130 (25% off) + 15% off with code TURKEY

18 / Duplex Kitchen Pendants:$104 down from $139 (25% off) with code THANKFUL

19 / Beach House Middle Bedroom Rug: On sale for $524, down from $698 (25% off with code CELEBRATE)

Tools & Technology We Own/Love:

Thanks to John’s deep obsession with watching all things tech for deals throughout the year, he already jumped on a bunch of them for himself this morning since they’ve never been lower. So here are the items we’ve already purchased and used (many for years & years) and still LOVE.

1 / John’s Laptop Bag: Marked down to $69 from $200 (65% off)

2 / Our Go-To Cordless Drill + Battery: Marked down to $79 from $99 (20% off)

3 / Our Favorite Stick Vacuum: (re-bought this for the beach house!) Marked down to $90 from $130 (31% off)

4 / Our Bedroom Phone Chargers: $40 (it’s not marked down but they’re super durable & look great)

5 / Nest Thermostat E: Marked down to $139 from $169 (18% off) – bought ’em for the duplex!

6 / Vintage Style LEDs in Soft White: $29 for a 4 pack

7 / Our Favorite Cordless Nailer: Marked down to $109 from $180 (39% off)

8 / Our 55″ Smart Roku TV: Marked down to $350 from $600 (42% off)

9 / Our New Miter Saw + Collapsible Stand: Marked down to $400 from $600 (33% off)

10 / Apple Watch Series 3 with GPS & Cellular: (John got one as a belated b-day gift) $329 down from $409 (20% off)

11 / Our Roku 4 Streaming TV Box: Marked down to $100 from $130 (24% off)

12 / Our Favorite Smart Light Bulbs: $55 down from $70 (21% off)

13 / Echo Dot 2nd Gen: $20 down from $40 (50% off)

14 / Our Favorite Smart Plug: Marked down to $17 from $40 (58% off)

15 / Our Handy Pressure Washer: $90 down from $130 (31% off)

16 / Our Favorite Sound Machine: Marked down to $15 from $30 (50% off)

17 / Our Cordless Leaf Blower: Marked down to $150 from $170 (12% off)

18 / Our Cordless Trimmer: $85 (click “tool only” if you already have a battery)

19 / Our Go-To Drill & Driver Set: Marked down to $8 from $10 (20% off)

House Stuff We’re Buying / Eyeing:

I’m mainly checking out rugs, accessories, and a few pieces of furniture – and these are the things I’m loving most with the best prices right now. A glass doored cabinet for $67?! Big rugs like this and this that are 40% off?! A gorgeous armchair for $185?! Yes please.

1 / Rattan Headboard: marked down to $466 for a queen & $304 for a twin

2 / Color Block Hand Towels: $14 each, get free shipping with code SAVEMORE

3 / Tassel Sham Set: $36 down from $39 + 20% off if you join Urban Outfitters Rewards (free)

4 / 8.5″ Mercury Glass Tree: $10 (this isn’t marked down but I got one and it’s AMAZING! They light up!)

5 / 20″ Mercury Glass Tree: $20 (also not marked down but these are so beautiful)

6 / Linear Ombre Rug: 9 x 12″ was $899, now $539 (40% off!)

7 / Chunky Knit Throw: Marked down to $21 from $30 (30% off)

8 / Velvet Pillow: Marked down to $24 from $27 (10% off)

9 / Woven Cat Basket: Marked down to $63 from $79 (20% off)

10 / Faux Fur Beanbag: Marked down to $165 from $228 (about 30% off)

11 / Glass Accent Cabinet: Marked down to $67 from $130 (40% off + another 15% off w/ code TURKEY!)

12 / Handcarved Coffee Table: This is still pricey but so gorgeous & 40% off ($700 from $1099)

13 / Oak Tripod Floor Lamp: Marked down to $76 from $80 (5% off)

14 / Rattan Arm Chair: Marked down to $127 from $150 (15% off with code TURKEY)

15 / Tassel Hand Towel:$23 down from $30 (25% off)

16 / Water Hyacinth Basket: $19 (not on sale but great price)

17 / Cat Ring Dish: Marked down to $5 from $20 (75% off!) – such a cute gift!

18 / Set of 2 Decorative Mugs: $8 down from $16 (50% off) – also a cute gift idea w/ hot cocoa or tea

19 / Mini Waffle Maker: $9.99! (comes in mint, pink, & white – so tempting for the duplex)

20 / Brass Bird Bookcase: This is still pricey ($999 from $$1600) but it’s 40% off & stunning

21 / Geometric Carved Coffee Table: Marked down to $110 from $130 (15% off) + 15% more off of that w/ code TURKEY

22 / Diamond Indoor / Outdoor Rug: 9 x 12″ marked down to $539 from $899 (40% off)

Not everything we’re keeping an eye on falls into a soft blush color scheme (it was fun to organize things that way, though – ha!) so here are the other home deals I’m loving:

1 / Plaid Welcome Mat: $13 (great price for this cool design)

2 / Navy Campaign Nightstand: $299 with free shipping

3 / Chevron Rug: 5 x 7′ is marked down to $110 from $130 (5% off + 15% off with code TURKEY)

4 / Indigo Indoor / Outdoor Rug: 9 x 12′ marked down to $539 from $899 (40% off)

5 / Black Round Mirror: Marked down to $45 from $50 (10% off)

6 / Decorative Basket: $20 (not marked down but great price)

7 / Black Pendant Light: $41 down from $69 (40% off)

8 / Mini Footed Planter: $12 (20% off by joining Urban Outfitters Rewards or buy 1 get 1 50% off anything)

9 / Plaid Pillow Cover: Marked down to $26 from $35 (25% off with code THANKFUL)

10 / Wood Arm Chair: $185 down from $230 (5% off plus 15% more with code TURKEY)

11 / Set of 2 Upholstered Dining Chairs: $276 down from $460 (40% off) – $138 each!

12 / Rattan Accent Cabinet: Marked down to $180 from $200 (10% off)

13 / Overdyed Rug: 4 x 6′ marked down to $40 from $50 (5% off + another 15% off with code TURKEY)

14 / Faux Fiddle Leaf Fig: $179 with free shipping (use FREESHIP65)

15 / Striped Beach Towel: Marked down to $15 from $18 (these are so cute even at full price!)

16 / Brass Pivoting Wall Sconce: Marked down $48 from $60 (20% off)

17 / Velvet Pillow Covers: Marked down to $10 from $29 (66% off)

18 / Printed Pillow Cover: Marked down to $40 from $88 (55% off)

19 / Flannel Sheet Set: Marked down to $14 from $20 (30% off)

Can’t Forget Small Business Saturday!

Here are some of our favorite Etsy shops with lovely (and personalized!) hand-made wares. Not everything’s marked down, but it FEELS SO GOOD to have original art and handmade stuff in your house. Really puts a personalized spin on any space. And can you resist that sweet personalized birch candle holder?! Also: support small businesses year-round!

1 / Handmade Pillow Cover: $69.99

2 / Leather Wall Strap: Marked down to $11 from $13 (15% off)

3 / White & Wood Modern Light: Marked down to $231 from $257 (10% off!)

4 / Colorful Art Prints: Starting at about $21! We LOVE her stuff and own 2 original paintings!

5 / Cheeky Key Dish: $17 down from $22 (20% off)

6 / Camping Mug Candle: $22 down from $28 (20% off) – 4 scents & designs!

7 / Faux Leather Pillow Cover: $29 down from $32 (10% off)

8 / Handmade Graphic Pillow Cover: $34

9 / Pretty Face Vase: $14

10 / Turkish Towel Throw Blanket: Marked down to $25 from $31 (20% off!)

11 / Vintage Kilim Rug (5×10′): Marked down to $299 from $500 (40% off!!)

12 / Brass Elephant Bookends: $35

13 / Illustrated Family Portrait: Starts at $65, depending on number of people

14 / Vintage Indigo Pillow Cover: $44 down from $52 (15% off)

15 / Personalized Birch Candle Holder: $20

16 / Gray Wood Decorative Beads: $14

17 / Modern White Vases: $14 (these are so delicate and lovely)

18 / Leather Key Holder: Marked down to $16 from $20 (20% off) – free personalization!

19 / Colorful Letterboard: $30.99 (we have this one in pink at the beach house & love the other colors too)

Coupon Codes & Sales That Are On Now:

Ok, I’m off to eat my weight in turkey and grab at least a handful of things on this list (John already bought our Nest thermostats for the duplex and his belated birthday Apple Watch – such a deal! he saved $80!). But before I go, here’s a rundown of the sales & codes I’ve found so far:

Crate & Barrel –Up to 40% off furniture + 20% off sale prices

Target – Lots of markdowns with an additional 15% off all online furniture with the code TURKEY

Pottery Barn – 25% off sitewide + free shipping with code THANKFUL

PB Teen – 25% off with code OHWHATFUN

Serena & Lily – 25% off everything with code CELEBRATE

Anthropologie – 30% off everything on their site (starts Friday)

CB2 – 15% off full priced items + free shipping with code SAVE15

Minted – 20% off holiday cards, gifts, art, and home decor over $150 or 15% off everything with the code: BF2018

World Market – 40% off furniture with code FURNDEAL

Rejuvenation – Up to 25% off, depending how much you spend

Wayfair – Up to 80% off

Overstock – Up to 70% off + free shipping

McGee & Co – 20% off everything with code THANKYOU

West Elm – Up to 30% off + free shipping with code SAVEMORE

Annie Selke – 25% off everything with the code CYBER18

Urban Outfitters – Buy one, get one 50% off

Old Navy – 50% off your entire purchase

Banana Republic – 50% off regularly priced items

J. Crew – 40% off your purchase using the code “TOGETHER”

Gap –50% off everything with code BLKFRIDAY + an extra 10% off online with TREAT

Hope you guys are all soaking up lots of family time (and all the delicious fooooood) this holiday weekend. And feel free to tell me on Instagram or Facebook if there are any major deals I’m missing. You know I love to submerge myself in them hot-tub style and pretend to splash around in them a la Scrooge McDuck.

Psst – For all the exact paint colors & links to all of the furniture & accessories that we have in our house, this page has you covered – and if you’re looking for items we have already bought and lived with and love, this page has all of those things corralled for ya.

*This post contains affiliate links*

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Black Friday Home Decor Deals (& What We’re Buying) published first on https://ssmattress.tumblr.com/

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truereviewpage · 6 years ago

Text

Black Friday Home Decor Deals (& What We’re Buying)

Stuff We Already Own (& Love!):

1 / Our Master Bed: Marked down to $599 from $900 (33% off)

2 / Emily Jeffords Art: Price depends on size, but Minted’s doing 20% off any art order over $150

3 / Our Foyer Pendant Light: Marked down to $239 from $298 (20% off)