#I LITERALLY HAVE PATTERNED BEAR SHAPED BUTTONS

[monty-glasses-roxy]

So... I cut a bunch of thread the other day for a Storyteller/Tiger Rock coloured chevron bracelet just to have another go and to get some button fasten practice attempts in, but I couldn't find a button that matched the theme. I was gonna buy a bunch of stars for more animatronic colour scheme ones because they match, but still couldn't see one matching Tiger Rock unless I somehow used two (a blue and a green) but still couldn't see a good shaped one. I was thinking maybe a pink star, or a white and black striped one, and I've just thought of one with a tree on it cause there's no way those don't exist and...

My mum just gave me a shortbread tin of buttons that she, her mum and my dad's mum have somehow accumulated over the years! Hooray! There's bound to be a good one in here!

.... Nope! There's some good ones and some weird ones and some really nice ones, but there's nothing that matches the Storyteller/Tiger Rock theme.

Lads. There's so many buttons here how is there not a single good one for this?? Going insane here

[senkusphone]

Replies to various tag comments

so I can reply but also not clutter everything with many posts, thanks for bearing with me.

@megacarapa No, thank you! That gif took so long to make, and I rarely get to use it lol. I had to undo a panning shot, and erase Senku in order to loop it. Check out this weird left over file from the process, you can see a bit of Senku under where I patched him off, and the subtitles moving as the image panned

@piuopon

Multimeter:

You don't understand, that's the multimeter I used for most of the last decade, even at the labs in university. I bought it from some guy on the street (I swear this is normal) cause it was very cheap, and it needed repairs which I did.

I gotta admit I love me an old instrument though. I think it's from the early 1970's as it's made with point to point connection (no circuit board) but it doesn't have the old Sanwa logo. Fun fact, to this day they still sell knockoffs of these old japanese Sanwa multimeters, under brands such as Sunma, Sunwa, etc (and they're still not cheaper than I paid for the og). My first multimeter when I was a kid was a knockoff 'Munwha' I believe, wish I still had it regardless.

If you want me to flex a real antique one, check out the Weston Selective Analyzer 665. This multimeter is from the 1930's. (also makes me wonder if there was a Weston Selective Analyzer 666)

The 'high grid test' and 'low grid test', the series capacitor condenser for the AC voltage scales, and the 'press to read' button are features that have long disappeared from multimeters as far as I can tell.

Senku:

It's hard for me to describe how much this series helped me pull through a comically dark time in my life. Senku is a very inspiring character, despite how much I like to dunk on him. When I needed a bit of inspiration the most, I was inspired to shamelessly and unapologetically pursue my interests in science and engineering that I had been growing increasingly disenchanted with after too many years in academic hell. Despite the fact that I am literally building a career on these interests, I have always been shamed for pursuing them in a non professional or academic way.

The dude said "get excited", and I did.

So, the fact that you perceive me that way, is really flattering to me, and I truly appreciate it, thank you.

🅱️enis:

I'll have you remember that the og KoS flag featured only one phallic shape and was designed by Yuzu, go figure what she was thinking of.

Someone must've decided it wasn't gay enough by the time Ryusui came around, and thus added a second one in conjuction (a design which Ryusui was the first to wear).

No idea who did it though, but I am putting suspicion on the artists (yuzu and namari) and Gen, because he likes to mess with people, of course. Wonder what the Ishigami villagers thought of this pattern, as they were exposed to this design long before they had any knowledge or remotely accurate concept of a rocket or spaceship...

... but they certainly knew other things.

Moving on

@aresagainstthemachine Hello again

Yes, as you say the frequencies are kinda fixed. Both the transmit and receive frequency depend in part to the capacitance of the antenna to the surrounding environment, there was even one occasion where hand capacitance to the large coil made this behave sorta like a theremin. (video there, but I no longer use this twitter).

Receive mode is a bit more complicated as adjusting the feedback/tickler coil to bring up the gain also shifts the frequency somewhat. Tuning regenerative radios is always a process of getting closer and closer adjusting the tuning capacitor of the front end and the coupling of the feedback. Now aparently I had some sort of mental void between then and now, 'cause the other day I was cleaning some boxes and I found this object

Then I remembered that back in the day I meant to discretely install this small variable capacitor to have at least a small amount of tuning control on the receiving coil. I guess I ended up not doing it when I saw it happened to fall near an existing station and adding this would have thrown that off. Feel free to message me if you got any more electronics questions, that'd be easier and I'd be happy to chat. Also thanks everyone for the reblogs and nice comments :)

[midgardianweasley]

Build-a-bear adventures

Build-a-bear adventures.

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: A top trained assassin, her girlfriend, and a build-a-bear workshop, what better way to spend a day off. 

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: Agonisingly fluffy.

I was planning on posting angst, but, decided on a fluff instead<33 

“But babe. Babe. Babe.” You poked your girlfriend, fully aware that with every prod, you were only contributing to the headache worthy eye rolls she had been giving you for the past hour. You were joking, of course you were, she knew that, but she also knew that it was possible you were about to be single in 0.2 of a second if you didn’t stop poking her. 

With a sarcastic smile and a deep breath, she turned her head towards you, momentarily stopping your movements as you returned a sickeningly sweet smile back. 

“Yes?” 

“I don’t think you understand.” 

“I do understand.”

“This is life or death.” You spoke with a poker face, a weak attempt to try and make your point valid. 

“I think that may be exaggerating just a little bit honey.” She chuckled lightly at your tone and the way you moved in your spot on the sofa, now having your legs crossed in front of you, hands enthusiastically moving in front of you. 

“No. No, see, you don’t understand! We need to do this!” 

“Is my unconditional love not enough?” 

“No.”

“Ouch.” She dramatically placed her hand on her chest, a smirk plastered onto her face as she watched you rile yourself up with every sentence.

“Okay, sorry, I didn’t mean that, your unconditional love is more than enough, and while I unconditionally love you too, that doesn’t change the fact that this is a necessity.” 

“Like the ones from the jungle book?” 

You groaned loudly, throwing your head back as the assassin teased you. 

“Baby, please!” You moved once again, now clambering onto her lap with your hands interlocked behind her neck, your faces mere inches away from hers. Her hands immediately went to your waist to steady you, pure energy coursed through your veins as you tried to convince Natasha to go ahead with your idea and she wasn’t certain you wouldn’t fall off of you if she didn’t hold you down.

“You seriously want to?”

“Yes.”

“Today?”

“Yes.”

“Instead of cuddling in bed with movies?” Her eyebrows raised in question, not faltering as she watched you pretend to ponder, stroking an imaginary beard on your chin.

“Yes.” You smiled, your inner child shining through. 

Knowing she wasn’t going to win, she sighed gently, running a hand through your hair and giving you a quick kiss on your temple before tapping your thighs to signal for you to stand up. 

“Alright. Get ready and we’ll go.” 

“Really?” You squealed, clapping your hands together as you rocked back and forth on your heels. 

“Really. Now hurry and get your shoes on, we don’t want to get stuck in traffic.” 

She watched with nothing but adoration as you whizzed off to get ready to leave, swearing that she’s never seen you move so quickly in her life. Despite her playful protest, she walked over to the kitchen counter to pick up her car keys, swinging them around her pointer finger as she walked over to the doorway of the compound living room. 

‘I can’t believe I'm doing this.’ She thought. 

Although she’ll deny it to anyone that asks, she’s absolutely whipped for you. 

“I’m ready!” Your voice called out, encouraging Natasha to shrug her leather jacket on and walk towards her smiling girlfriend, taking her hand as they walked out together with content smiles on their faces. 

‘Let’s do this.’ 

_______________________

It didn’t take long to arrive at your destination, your eyes immediately drew themselves to the store windows filled with stuffed bears in a variety of different outfits, some bears were dressed up to fit a theme, some bears were characters from loved movies, some were just bears in dungarees. 

That’s right. You’ve managed to bring a trained assassin to a build-a-bear workshop. Why? 

To get matching bears. 

You looked towards Natasha, a huge grin on your face, only faltering slightly as you were met with her hands and forehead on the drivers wheel. You tugged on her sleeve, ignoring her disagreement, her head not leaving the wheel, but turned to face you.

“Stop being silly, c’mon, you’re looking forward to it! I know you are!” 

“Babe. We’re parked outside of a teddy store.”

“Exactly! It’s fun, you’re excited, I'm excited, let’s go!” 

You didn’t hesitate to open your car door, jumping out of the car and shutting the door behind you, the redhead not far behind you as she once again took your hand, reminding you how lucky you are that she loves you. Your response was a simple kiss on her cheek, a small blush following shortly afterwards.

“You’re cute.” You pinched her cheek.

“Yeah yeah, let’s go get our bears.” 

_______________________

“So, that’s both of your bears stuffed, do you guys want to put voice boxes in them?” The kind staff member asked the pair of you. 

You glanced towards Natasha, silently asking if she’d like one or not. She gave you a brief smile before looking back at the woman helping you with your bears. 

“Sure, I don’t see why not.” She winked at you before following the woman over to another station within the store. There were rows and rows of different shapes and coloured voice boxes to choose from. 

You had the option of choosing a pre-recorded sound, like animal sounds or a bunch of different ‘i love you.’ in different voices. You didn’t mind what voice you had, honestly, you would’ve been content with an ‘i love you’ from Elsa at this point. However, you saw your girlfriend make a beeline for the ones that you record your own message into. 

“You’re gonna do your own one?” You asked, moving over to stand beside her. 

“Nope. I’m making one for yours.” She said proudly, holding two of the small items in her hand, holding it out for you to take one. You couldn’t help but feel your heartbeat quicken at her words. This is the sweetest thing you’ve ever done with someone else, and to think she wasn’t even that eager to come in the first place. You knew she’d have fun. 

Taking the small blue speaker from her hand, you were instructed to press the button on the back of the plastic, hold it down to speak, and release it when you were finished, but it can only be a short message. The both of you tucked your bears under your arm, bringing the box to your mouth and cupping it so that it would come out loud and clear, and so the other couldn’t hear what you were saying. 

Once your messages were done, you handed each other the speaker to place in the paw that had a ‘press me’ sign sewed into it. The woman ensured it was inserted correctly before taking them elsewhere to be sewn up, leaving you both to look at the racks of tiny clothes hung on the wall. 

It was almost as difficult as choosing clothes for yourself, there were too many options, and every single one was adorable. How did literal children do this? 

“Please tell me you can’t decide on an outfit either.” The Russian spoke from beside you, her gaze focused on the fabrics, styles and patterns in front of you. 

“It’s easier trying to take a pop tart off of the demi-god at home than trying to pick a pair of jeans and a t-shirt for a stuffed animal. What the hell?” Your arms gestured to the wall in front of you, exasperated as you tried to decide whether you wanted the blue jeans or black.” 

“Hi guys, here are your bears, just letting you know, there’s also some dresses over there if you want to check them out.” The woman smiled, watching as you and Natasha shared a glance of horror. 

The two of you were gonna be here for a while.

______________________

Finally, you and Nat had dressed both your bears. You chose a pair of black jeans, a white t-shirt and a black leather jacket for yours, and Natasha had chosen a Y/F/O. It appeared as though each of you had made ‘mini me’s’ of the other, and they seemed pretty damn accurate too. 

After successfully creating and dressing your bears, it was time to name them, pay, and then you could both go home and relax. You had no idea building a bear could be so exhausting. 

Both you and Natasha had to pick a name. You thought it over, whereas Nat had just rushed right in, choosing to call her bear ‘honey.’, the nickname she always reserved for you. Gripping your bear tightly, you observed the birth certificate being printed out, the name, the owner’s name and the date clearly written in bold, black letters. You could’ve sworn you saw Natasha’s eyes light up when she was handed the sheet of paper. 

“What about you, miss?” The woman asked, ready to type in whatever name you gave her. Glancing behind you quickly, you caught the eye of your girlfriend behind you, immediately knowing what to call it. 

“Snoopy, please.” 

You heard one loud and short laugh erupt from Natasha’s lips, her hand shot to cover her mouth, not intending to be so disruptive when she heard what you had called it. 

‘Snoopy’ is the name of a cartoon character, which was probably what people would think you named the bear after. In reality, it wasn’t that at all. 

When you first met the team, you were informed of what everyone’s roles were and how they contributed to the group. There were supersoldiers, scientists, a god, all different kinds of people, including the incredibly attractive spy. When you went on your first mission, she had to hack into a computer to retrieve some stolen data, but took her time to also look at some other things they had on there too, just to kill time. 

The first words you said to her on that mission that wasn’t to do with what direction you were running in, was ‘Alright, hold off Snoopy, you can do that in your spare time, hurry up.’, and at first she was annoyed with the nickname, claiming she wasn’t snooping, nor does she ever ‘snoop’, but she soon took it in her stride. It was still a running joke between the pair of you 2 years down the line, and you never let her forget it. 

“Nice name, babe.” She coughed, unable to fully settle down from her laughing fit.

“Why, thank you! Yours isn’t so bad yourself.” You spoke as you blew her a kiss that she grabbed in thin air and pretended to shove into her jean pocket, earning a small shake of the head before you took your printed certificate and went to purchase the bears. 

_______________________

Once you got back to the compound, the both of you were completely shattered, unable to keep your eyes open to watch some TV before bed. Eager to get some sleep, the two of you just ended up changing into your pyjamas, following your shared night routine before collapsing onto your bed. 

You lay beside her, still able to smell her perfume after so many hours, the scent making your eyelids feel like rocks. Grabbing your bear, you put it in between you, Natasha doing the same thing, before snuggling up close together under the covers. She reached over to put some fallen hair behind your ear, smiling gently at you as she did so, the gesture lazily returned. 

“Thank you for suggesting today, baby. I really enjoyed myself.” She whispered, a murmur of agreement following her words.

“Thank you for taking us Natty, I had fun.” You mumbled with closed eyes, sleep quickly taking over. 

“Get some sleep, my love.” 

You nodded once before responding. “G’night Nat.” 

“Goodnight baby.”

And that was you, out like a light. 

Natasha reached over to give you a kiss on the forehead as her final goodnight, not realised that she’d leant on the teddy in the process, only noticing when she heard your voice in a non sleepy state. 

“I’m madly in love with you, Romanoff.” She heard you laugh, followed by an excited “I’m done!”, obviously you forgot to let go of the button after you recorded the initial message, but it had made it even more special. She couldn’t help but adore you with every bone in her body. 

You weren’t awake now, but when you were, she hoped to see your reaction when you listened to her message in your bear, the words spoken in Russian, but you’d heard them before, so you’d definitely know what it meant.

“Moye serdtse tvoye, lyubov' moya.” (My heart is yours, my love.)

She was right. 

She’s absolutely whipped. 

 Taglist: @natashas-favourite-knives @eilarch @natashaswifey @lostandsearching​ @wandaromanova​ @pottahishotasf @d14n4ol @xxromanoffxx 

[aphrodisiacal-nyx]

Sexism in One Piece

I have been following the story of One Piece till today and while I love the series and its plot; the sexism has not missed my eye.

1. Drawing styles.

Oda has two categories of women that he draws:

Pretty and with a perfect hourglass figure and an unrealistically large chest.

Unusually drawn and fat.

Oda himself admitted to using 3 circles and an X to draw all his women. He also added that this would rile up women, but you have to stay strong and dedicated. To him, women’s opinions on his manga do not seem to matter.

(Fun fact: A great majority of his readers are women)

Not only the lazy style, but there is a pattern to be seen in One Piece. The pretty women are good, while the unattractive ones are evil. In short, unattractiveness is synonymous with evil. And in places where the villain is actually pretty, Oda finds a way to redeem them somehow. He just has to turn them into a goody-two shoes or sympathetic in some way (Example: Pudding, Baby 5).

Doesn't that all seem a little too convenient?

It seems to me that Oda cannot bear the idea of a pretty woman having malice in her, and being the epitome of evil. And he also cannot imagine any other women than the ones I mentioned.

A reference picture:

2. Women, the weakest.

The females are capable and powerful, but it so happens that they are always the weakest in the crew or group. Examples: Nami, Kalifa, Big Mom (she is considered as the weakest yonko), Reiju, etc.

The list doesn't end.

Whenever there is a woman, and she is poweful indeed, Oda goes and makes her the weakest

The women who are actually very poweful, like Big Mom. are joked on because of their appearances and body shape. They are reduced down to their ugly looks.

3. Their powers reduced.

The powerful female characters, like Nico Robin, who show so much promise, are reduced down to nothing as the story proceeds.

Don't tell me that the woman who hid herself from the government for 20 years, and was the right hand of a Shichubaki, has not sprung in any fighting action after the Albasta arc. Just don't.

She doesn't need protection, and yet, there is always a male coming up at her protection in a fight. Like why?

The one time she has fought post-leap is in the Wano Arc. And that is about all. Nami, too, has gotten Zeus in the arc, but they still remain underrepresented.

4. Pretty bad women.

Oda makes sure that if the bad women don’t turn puppy-eyes, then they are bad women as fanservice.

Example: Sadi-chan. While she is a villain, and her fights are not meant to be taken seriously, look no further. I will make sure people jack off to her, and her face will be hidden with her hair, so the focus stays on the body.

5. The clothes women wear.

All the women, literally all of them, are in revealing clothes.

They are wearing clothes that don’t fit the occasion. Rebecca, a 16-year-old gladiator, wears the clothes unfit for a fight and so does every other woman. If anyone has ever worn a dress, they would know how uncomfortable it is to fight in one. Oda has not. So we get a lot of women fighting in clothes that aren’t practical.

But okay, it’s for fan service and the male gaze. Practicality doesn’t matter to men when it comes down to women.

6. Women’s consent is ignored.

Tashigi was the only one who didn’t wear any revealing clothes in One Piece. However, Oda found a scene to give fan service as well.

In Punk Hazard, he makes sure that Smoker, who is in Tashigi's body, unties the shirt buttons, and even when Tashigi asks him to button it up, he doesn't. That genuinely ticked me off + Sanji touching Nami's body for no good reason even when she told him not to.

It's like their opinions are discarded for no f*cking reason, even when it's literally their own body. Their consent does not matter. And it is brushed aside.

Note: Revealing dresses are not a problem itself, but when everyone in the world wears the same kind of dresses (that too, for the male gaze), then it is not diversification but over-sexualization.

8. A gender-reverse would be good.

There are some extremely off-putting scenes, and if you reverse the gender, you'd find it is not the same case when a male is there instead of a female.

For instance, Kyros asks Rebecca to not use a sword and how it has been a great regret for him to teach her how to fight. Tell me something, is that what he would say to his son when his life was in danger? No, he won't.

Because that is immature.

***

With that being said, there are a lot of other things about the manga that are sexist. Especially Sanji’s character.

And no, just because Sanji is a great multi-dimensional character, it won’t excuse his dismissal of women’s consent and perverted nature. It won’t excuse his misbehavior. It won’t excuse his desires to spy on naked women even if it makes them uncomfortable and is immoral.

P.S. Not fighting women doesn’t show his respect for women. It’s just a part of his chivalry, which is an example of benevolent sexism. Stop equating that with respect.

You’re allowed to like One Piece but you cannot excuse its problematic aspects just because of your ‘feelings.’ I love One Piece and its plot and cast too, but you don’t see me denying sexism doesn’t exist because it does.

Remember, acknowledging the wrong things in something you like doesn’t make the thing bad. It’s only opening up good, healthy discussion.

[galaxyedging]

A little fluff about the times Mando and the reader touch.

Worth the Risk.

"First rule of going on the run, don't run, walk." This advice had worked pretty well over the years. It did not take into account that one day your running companion would be a large man covered in a ridiculous shiny material. Luckily for you, your pursuers didn't actually know what either of you look like. Only that something that belonged to them had gone missing. Unluckily for you, in big crowds like this, Mandalorians drew attention. In smaller crowds people's instincts were to turn away, to not catch his attention. Hidden amongst a bigger crowd, people became bold, they stared and whispered.

"We need to get out of this crowd." Mando's voice was tense.

"The crowd will be the only thing slowing them down and hiding us from suspicion. We stay in it then make a break for the Crest when we see an opening." you replied calmly.

You had been able to move at a steady pace through the crowd, you in the lead, Mando behind. The people around you walked slowly, browsing the market stalls. Up ahead the movement of the crowd change. Drums, bells and whistles sounded in an upbeat rhythm. As soon as you passed the last stall you were swept to the side in the dancing crowd. Caught up in the movement you lost your bearings for a moment. Struggling to turn as the dancing bodies pressed into you from every direction, you managed to looked over your left shoulder. No sign of the familiar glint of Baskar in the sun. Colour swamped your vision as people dance with scarves and flags. Colourful powder burst into the air, sending out vivid rainbow clouds than misted everything they touched. The effect was beautiful but disorienting. You started to push back towards where you thought Mando had been. You ducked under flags and weaved through the crowd. Still no sign. Suddenly you were aware of someone at your side. It was strange since you were literally walled in by bodies but this felt different. As you turned, relived to see Mando, you felt him grip your hand. His grip was strong and firm. Warmth seemed to radiate through his gloves. Your hand slotted into his perfectly. Before you could think about if for too much longer he pulled you through the crowd. Making a steady progression, you periodically checked behind you. Only when you finally reached the Crest you realized that not only were you still holding hands but your fingers were now intertwined. Letting go, he went off to prepare the ship, leaving you to look down at you hand. The symbolism of space where his hand had once was being highlighted by absent of the coloured powder that had settled on your skin, wasn't lost on you.

Damn it, you cursed your own stupidity. As you lay there, shaking with fever, you listed all the things that were as beautiful as they were deadly. All the pretty flowers of various shaped blooms, their rich colours and wonderful scents. Animals that had incredibly beautiful patterns and cute features that could kill you where you stood. Mando, who's walked alone had you completely enthralled when you first saw him, could kill you in a number of ways. He might actually, if this fever was affecting you so badly that you could no longer distinguish between your internal monologue and your actual voice. He was still turned away from you mixing up a remedy so you figured you were safe. He returned to your side with a small bowl. "Here." he said placing his hand under your head, gently lifting it so you could drink. "That will counteract any poison. You're still in for a rough 24 hours but you'll live. Stay on the path and away from the tree blossoms in the future." As he lowered your head his hand grazed your cheek. It was cool compared to your heated skin. Instinctively you grabbed it, holding it still, leaning in, enjoying the relief it provided. You were too wrapped up in your own bliss to notice the sigh that came from the Mandalorian. He removed his hand and went off to fetch a cool wash cloth. He laid it over you forehead before going to sit on crate across the cargo hold from you. "Get some rest, I'll watch over you." he informed you folding his arms across his chest and relaxing back slightly.

"Can you...can you watch over me from over here?" your voice was little more that a whisper. You weren't sure if was pity or kindness that motivated him to move. He dragged the crate over next to you, getting comfortable once more. "Sleep." He uttered. Feeling safer to do so you closed your eyes.

In the morning, as your eyes blinked open, you took inventory of all the discomfort in your body. Your head pounded, your mouth was dry, your back ached, your stomach churned, you hand felt strangely heavy. It took you a second to realise why. Mando's ungloved hand was in yours. Fingers interlaced just next to where his head lay on the end of your cot. Soft, steady breathing indicated he was still asleep. Shifting slightly for a better look you gave his hand a once over. His skin was tanned, less damaged than you would have thought. You thought you could see a faint scar by his thumb. To confirm you suspicions you ran your thumb across his skin. The skin itself was soft and smooth, there was a slight raise where the scar was. Even in his sleeping state there was still strength in the way his fingers held yours. The smile that had spread across your face suddenly dropped when his helmet moved and his visor met your gaze. "How are feeling?" he asked voice rough with sleep before clearing his throat.

"Better." you nodded wearily.

"Good. I'll go check on the kid." There wasn't much in his tone to read but you felt how slowly he slide his hand from yours before climbing the ladder to the cockpit.

Dust and debries rained down on you as the blaster shots hit the top of the wall you were hiding behind. "Mando!" you yelled through your comm.

"Here." he appeared over the wall blaster shots pinging off his Baskar. "Come on." he grunted dragging you to your feet.

"Where?!" you shouted taking cover in front of his armoured frame as shots ricocheted off of him.

He answered by wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you to him "Hold on."

Panic flared in you as you realised his plan. "Oh no. Mando! No. Wait!"

His hands held your face. "Trust me. Hold on."

Hell, you did trust him. Throwing your arms around his neck, you held on for dear life, literally. His jetpack roared to life and as your feet left the ground you hooked them on his calves. Once you had risen a few feet to clear the roof Mando had to tilt you back so he could control the direction you were flying in. In fear you wrapped your legs fully around him, clinging to him even tighter. He had to adjust to your new position by placing one had on your lower back on one hand behind your knee. Moments later you shrieked as something wrapped around your head. It was only when you were out from under it you realised Mando had flown you through a flag. "Sorry, I wasn't paying attention." he rushed out before adding loudly "There's the Crest." Coming to land inside the ship Mando gently released your leg allowing you to stand. His hand remained on your lower back until you unwrapped your arms from his neck. "Thank you." you panted. Before he could respond you added "But if you ever do that again I will steal that thing and push you out the ship mid flight."

"Shit!" you curse as the panel in front of you sparked. Thanks to a massive storm you had crashed landed on a frozen wasteland. The nearest town was too far to get to without the Crest. Mando wouldn't have been safe flying there in this weather. Hoping to patch things up so you could limp over there, you had both set to work. Hours later there was still no joy and things were only getting worse. Night was falling, the temperature was dropping. Your hands were too cold to work any more. Mando returned from outside. His visor was frosted, even with his armour he was shivering. "That's it! It's freezing. We have no power, no heat. Am sleeping until morning." you finally snapped, picking up your glow rod before stomping around the ship to gather anything that could be used as a blanket. Over the heavy sound of your feet you could hear the sounds of the ships manual locks being engaged. "The ship is secure." Mando informed you.

"Good, so you can take your armour off." you told him as you shoved all the material you had found into the small compartment where he slept.

"Why?" he asked coming to a stop next to you.

"We have to conserve body heat. The helmet can stay on. Your bunk is the best place for us to sleep." you stated

He stood for a moment, head cocked to the side in thought before beginning to remove his armour. Once he was ready you allowed Mando to climb into the small space first before crawling in beside him.

Carefully you pressed yourself into him as close as you could without letting your position become too 'intimate'. He angled his hips away from you as you slotted into his side. You folded your arms underneath you to provide another barrier. Mando lifted up a little to carefully covered you both with the blankets. He lay back down his arms fell awkwardly, one behind your back, one at his side. He shuffled slightly then seemed satisfied with his position. You were about as comfortable as you were going to get. The only problem was the cold, hard metal pressed against your face. Mando picked up on your discomfort. "Are you ok? Do you need me to move?"

"It's just..your helmet is cold. Could you maybe lift it a little? Just off your neck? I won't look." you asked wondering if you'd ask too much of him. After what felt like forever, he slowly moved the helmet up. Just enough to give you room to settle your head into his neck. The rim of his helmet rested on your head. It wasn't ideal but it was an improvement.

"Thank you." you sighed enjoying the comfort and warm he was providing you.

"You're welcome." he said quietly. Reached up above his head he pressed a button to shut the compartment door. Before he lay back down he removed the flashlight from the side of his helmet and attached it to the wall. As he settled back down he spoke "If you wake up first or need to use the fresher wake me before you touch the light or open the door. My helmet's not fully on it may slip off."

He was so matter of fact about it you almost didn't register the level of responsibility that put on you. If you awoke and forgot, his Creed could be broken. You both trusted each other to have each others backs in a fight. It was a necessity between you. This level of trust was something else. It was a little emotionally overwhelming, so you did what you always did in situations like that...joked. "Wow. I gotta say I could get pretty tempted to peek. I mean there's a flashlight right there."

"And there's a blaster right there." Mando retorted.

As you laughed into his neck, you felt his own chuckle rumble in his chest. As you drifted off to sleep you realise that his arm was now around your back, pulling you in just a little.

Surprisingly, you slept pretty well. It took you a second to become fully conscious of your surroundings and make sense of them. Thankfully, the first thing you remembered was why it was pitch black. The second thing you became aware off was that, at some point in the night, you and Mando had almost switched positions. Now you were laying on your back with him on top of you. The difference was, in your unconscious state, their was no compulsion to be polite or reserved in your touching.

Mando was almost fully on top of you. His left leg was in between your legs with you right leg over it. His arms were around your waist, holding you close and his helmet was buried in you neck. No, not his helmet, his face. At least the lower half of it was. His warm breath skimmed your skin. His cheek and the barest edge of his lips rested on you. His words from the night before ran through your head. Racking your brains, you thought of everything he had ever said about his Creed. He can't be SEEN by another living thing without his helmet, he didn't seem bothered by the possibility that his helmet could come off, just with you SEEING him with it off. So you were ok, you should just wake him, have him put it back on? Despite your own reassurances, you felt guilty. If you could slip it back on, without waking him, then there was no problem. You would take the knowledge, of the brief moment you were aware of his face against your neck, to your grave. Gently lifting your hand that had been wrapped around his back, you reached up to steady the back of his helmet. Misjudging where it was your finger tips were met with thick, soft hair. Resisting the urge to sink your fingers into it, you tried for his helmet again. This time you poured all you attention into finding and gently grasping the edge of the helmet. You concentrated, keeping your movement small, as not to wake him. You even focused on keeping your breathing steady and quiet. All your effort was going into being as silent and as stealthy as possible, which is why you almost died when Mando spoke. "Do I have to get that blaster?"

"Fuck! Don't do that!" you weren't exactly sure what you were telling him off for. For suddenly speaking and scaring you? For letting you hear his unfiltered voice and the feelings it roused in you?

His head rose for a moment as he slipped the helmet on before lowering it back to you shoulder. "Do you need to get up?"

"No." Good job you were a good liar. You could do with peeing but there was no way you were willing extract yourself from under him.

"Then sleep. The storm is still raging. We might as well rest while we can." He made no move to adjust his position or move from you before relaxing back down. Since he seemed comfortable with how your were positioned you returned your arm to his back. Sleep was now eluding you so you listened to the storm. Unconsciously, you began to rub your hand your and down Mando's lower back. The gentle movement eventually caused his tunic to ride up, exposing his skin. Only when he let out a deep sigh at your hand meeting his bare skin did you realise what you were doing and that he was awake.

"Mando..." you began, the cover of darkness suddenly making you feel bold "...when was the last time you held someone like this?"

"Like this...?" he paused "Never."

"Never?" you echoed.

"It's not a good idea for a Mandalorian to be this vulnerable. It's risky." he informed you.

"So why now?" you asked resuming your movements. "Easier to dispose of my body in the frozen wasteland if you have to use that blaster?"

"No." he sighed as his own hand dipped under the clothing at your lower back and spread out across the bare skin there. "You're worth the risk."

[zevlors-tail]

Shinsou x Reader x Deku Zoo HC’s

Pairing: Poly ShinDeku x Reader/Shinsou x Reader x Izuku

Description: A day trip to the zoo with Reader!

Warnings: Established poly relationship, otherwise none. Maybe tooth rotting fluff.

A/N: First and foremost! Both boys and the Reader are in an established poly relationship, are Pro!Heroes, and are aged 21+. Bet y’all can’t guess where I went today lol. Today had hella Shinsou vibes, and of course I will forever love the green ball of sunshine that is Izuku Midoriya, so this happened. Enjoy!

A Day At The Zoo

-It’s so rare that the three of you ever end up with the same day off together, so most of the time you have to plan ahead if you want to have outings or adventures, the zoo included!

-It was Deku’s idea first. Well, not idea per se; he just suggested it in passing and you hopped on that train of thought so freaking fast! A whole day spent looking at cute animals with your cute boyfriends? Um, yes please!

-Shinsou had never been to the zoo before, so he didn’t really understand the hype at first. What exactly was the point in visiting animals other than cats? Especially when you can’t pet or hold them? But if it made you and Izuku happy, then who was he to say no?

-Izuku recommended a zoo that was a little bit farther away than your local one, but it had so much more than the typical barnyard animals at yours. He’d gone a few times himself for fundraisers and meetings but you and Shinsou had never been there before.

-So the three of you planned out a day in advance, took the day off from your respective places of work, and thus, the adventure began!

-You talked about it for weeks beforehand, right up until you were parked at the front gates. “Are you guys excited? Because I am SO excited! I’m gonna pet the goats, and the stingrays, and the sharks, and look at all the birds, and take so many pictures-!”

-The first thing you spot is the giant monarch butterfly chilling on the flowers outside of the front gates, so you already know it’s gonna be a good day. You already have your camera whipped out to take a pic.

-Izuku thinks it’s the cutest thing, and Shinsou is literally taking a picture of you taking a photo of the butterfly. The butterfly might be photogenic, but honestly, he thinks you’re the real work of art here.

-The three of you pay and no sooner than when the receipt was in Shinsou’s hand were you running off to the first exhibit, both boys trying to keep up with your pace so they didn’t lose you.

-The first exhibit had some arctic animals like polar bears and seals, which you watched for a while with a content smile on your face. The bears were up and playing around with a dented bucket and a huge rubber ball, and you got some really cool pictures of them. Izuku even managed to get a video of a seal gliding through their underwater tunnel.

-Once again Shinsou is taking pictures of you taking pictures of the animals, because he thinks it’s absolutely adorable. He has this little smirk on his face as he watches you from the camera lens. Although he has to admit, the polar bears are super cute. 

-You keep bouncing around from exhibit to exhibit. One moment the boys are watching the wolves with you, and the next, you’ve wandered over to the giraffes by yourself. Shinsou briefly wonders if they should invest in one of those backpacks with a leash for you.

-Eh, they can just use Izuku’s arms instead. At some point in the day, you’re not really sure when, Izuku just resulted in wrapping his arms around you and holding you while you’re looking at exhibits to keep you from running off. He likes to rest his chin on your head and listen to you gush about how cute the animals are.

-And when you’re walking from place to place, you can bet he’s immediately reaching for your hand to lace his fingers in yours. You end up in between him and Shinsou who also wants to hold hands with you.

-You point out all the animals, even the ones that aren’t a part of the zoo, and the boys think it’s endearing. “Awe, look at this dove over here in it’s nest! Isn’t it so cute!?”

-”Y/N, I don’t think-” He’s being good-natured about it and laughing because he finds it sweet, but Izuku can’t finish his sentence because Hitoshi is slapping a hand over his mouth.

-”Just let them be. It’s precious.”

-”Hello, Mr. Squirrel!” You probably name all of the local ducks and geese walking around, too.

-Eventually you guys make it to the aviary, and you start to explore all the bird exhibits.

-Shinsou, immediately: “It’s so loud in here.”

-Izuku seems to know little random bits of information on the birds, and really enjoys watching them fly around.

-”Shinsou,” you beg him, “can you take my picture next to this giant bird!?”

-He perks up a little after that. Also, he already took your picture. He’s super sneaky and really good at taking pics while you’re not looking. Some of the best photos he has of you and Izuku are candids he took without you knowing. Nothing terrible; they’re all literally still shots of your smiles, your eyes, or just of the two of you doing routine things. His whole camera roll is full of you and Izuku.

-After the birds, you come to the penguin exhibit.

-Penguins just so happen to be Izuku’s favorite animal at the zoo. He loves how they waddle around without a care in the world, and he thinks their black and white patterns are just so unique!

-Definitely embarrasses Shinsou by imitating the penguin walk. He’s a goofball with the two of you, you know he would! And you’re right there with him, following him around with your hands at your sides as you waddle behind him. 

-”I don’t know them,” Shinsou jokes with the people next to you. But he loves you both, you can tell by the way he’s smiling. He thinks it’s cute how the two of you act like this together...in a dorky way, but still.

-Finally, you guys get to the aquarium. The moment you step through the door, Shinsou is practically mesmerized by the fish. He’s never seen so many before; there’s so many colors and shapes and sizes...

-He feels peaceful while he’s watching them swim around.

-You like all the really weird fish. Izuku likes the tropical ones with all the crazy colors, and Shinsou...

-He loves the moon jellies. The second he stepped in front of that tank, he was gone. You and Izuku just watch him for a moment as he relaxes his shoulders and stares into purple tinted waters, totally serene and carefree.

-Izuku takes a 2 minute long video of him bc the moment is just so precious. RIP anyone else who wanted to look at the jellyfish today, bc Shinsou’s literally been there for like 10 minutes now

-Shinsou decides he really likes the zoo after that. Every other exhibit is much more enjoyable and he’s in such a better mood. Not that he was in a bad mood when he first got there, it’s just that he didn’t see the point in all of it at first. 

-Izuku also spends a while looking at the sea turtles, which happen to be his second favorite animal.

-You guys spent the most amount of time in the aquarium no thanks to Hitoshi, but you did manage to make it to the museum before it closed for the afternoon as well.

-Izu reads all the plaques out loud to the two of you and tells you all about the animals and displays. Some of them are interactive, and you can’t help yourself from pressing every single button and listening to the noises and information it gives you.

-There’s a section in the museum where you can pet stingrays. You had never done something like that before, and neither had the boys, so the three of you decided to give it a go.

-It was so soft.

-Stingrays feel like wet velvet, almost. 

-Izuku decides he’s done so he just ends up taking pictures of you and Shinsou. But soon you’re done too so you grab Hitoshi to leave, however-

-You and Izuku are walking away and suddenly: “Uh, Y/N? Wasn’t Shinsou with you?” “No, I thought he was with you?” “Where’s our boyfriend!?”

-You turn back around and he’s still there petting the stingrays. He’s SO fascinated, please don’t make him leave. He’s having the time of his life! It melts both of your rapidly beating hearts (you know, from the mini heart attack you had bc your other third was missing for a second).

-You both let him stay there for however long he wants, and when he reluctantly leaves (finally), you make your way to the giant gift shop at the end of the zoo.

-You guys buy so much stuff it’s not even funny. Partly because as Pros, you have the money to spend, and partly because you want to support the zoo so you can come back. They always appreciate business and donations.

-Speaking of donations, Izuku whips out his checkbook and makes a huge donation to a cause for sea turtles. The zoo is super thankful and you couldn’t be more proud. 

-You’re sure that if there was fund for jellyfish, Shinsou would be donating too.

-You all end up buying each other a plush of your fav animals; Izu gets a penguin, Shinsou gets a jellyfish, and you get your favorite animal too.

-You may or may not have bought a shirt as well... It has the zoo’s museum name on it along with some really cute animals.

-All in all a really great day! 

Bonus Content:

-Shinsou wants to book another trip as soon as you all are back home. He loves the zoo now and he wants to go, like, all of the time.

-You and Izu have caught him watching jellyfish videos on youtube on more than one occasion. He finds them relaxing and can’t wait to go see the real thing again.

[jefpoo421]

Character in Review: The Once-ler

The Once-ler from The Lorax movie, especially the young man of a Once-ler which you see in the past scenarios, is really cute and adorable. He wants to earn money, so he departs from his family farm to find materials for his so-called Thneed invention that could do a million uses. After he finds a valley rich of trees, bears, birds, and fish, he can't help but exploit the trees for their tufts, to make his Thneed, despite helpless ranting from the Lorax who speaks for the trees. But after five or so years, all the trees have disappeared and the animals go away, too. So then, up to the end of his days, the Once-ler feels shame in what he has done to the environment and lives as an introverted recluse in his "Lerkim" on top of his abandoned store.

Read on to learn more about this breakout character when the movie first came out in 2012, and even made a fandom of its own.

(repost from a mini-blog)

SHELTER AND TALENT

The Once-ler lives with his family in a white house on a farm, before departing. When he moves to the valley, he sets up a yellow tent that supposedly looks like a tiny cottage. The tent has a green roof, with an outhouse to the right. It has been implied that the Once-ler also likes to eat marshmallows, because you can see him packing in two large bags of marshmallow into his wagon cart. He also knows how to knit, and also to cook and flip pancakes way up high while singing, “Pancake, the pancake,” then manages to pull off many dozens of those pancakes to share to the animals and the Lorax.

PERSONALITY

He is somewhat clumsy, dorky, sympathetic, an average 20-year-old farmer boy. And that voice? It's so cute and dorky. I have quite made impressions of Ed Helms's voice. I even tried to belt out the Once-ler's songs in this voice.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

He has a thin body, babyface, a round button nose, long eyelashes (like Nermal, the annoying kitten from Garfield), some light freckles and black swept-up hair. His attractive, swept to the left hairstyle is perfectly topped with a fedora. But, if you want to draw the Once-ler as faithful as the movie, it's really going to be inconsistent because you can't decide which size and position his nose should be. To get matters straight, his innocent blue eyes make him cute and handsome.

ATTIRE

His three outfits that you see all in the movie are creative; the work outfit, the sleepwear, and his entrepreneur outfit.

Work outfit

When you first see the Once-ler in his past, you see him clad in a fedora, gray vest over a white shirt, striped gray pants and shoes. The white shirt has long sleeves which are rolled up to the middle of his forearm. He also wears green work gloves which the inner and bottom are colored beige. Enough said. But, how do they have striped gray denim pants in the 1970-somethings, you want to know? We know that vest and long-sleeved shirt combos have existed in the retro past and beyond. But look at his pair shoes. They are pretty much plain and dusty. They could have been hand-me-downs from his not-seen father. Why the same work outfit every time he gets out of his cottage? Is it because his family cannot afford clothes so they give him a limited wardrobe? You think about that. Next, when you see the Once-ler unloading his wagon, it is implied that he wears heart-print boxer shorts underneath his pants. Talk about throwing underwear to an unfortunate bear's head!

Sleepwear

When the Once-ler goes to bed, he wears blue pajamas with yellow bunny patterns on them. We have seen that color design before; in the film Despicable Me, on Agnes's pajamas! Although, Agnes's has teddy bear heads instead of rabbits. Talk about an unoriginal sleepwear design! Maybe the creators were lazy and decided to throw in Agnes's sleepwear pattern to the Once-ler. Now, let me get this thing straight. Does this mean that Agnes is distantly related to the Once-ler? Did the Once-ler buy his pajamas from the same clothing shop as Agnes's? By the way, the Once-ler's pajamas has five white button with a collar that is also white so that you can take them off easily. The only complaint about Once-ler's pajamas is that the pattern is copied from Agnes's. Everything else about it is fine.

Greed-ler outfit

The Once-ler's green business outfit is introduced right in the beginning of the musical number, "How Bad Can I Be." It's so shockingly flashy. What's impressing is that he wears green gloves that go up to his shoulders. Creative for a character adapted from a 1971 rhymed picture book. The green striped coat over the white shirt with the large collar, has long coattails, along with a red Truffula tuft stuck on to his right lapel. There are two gold buttons that hold the coat together, and a gold chain under it. The black necktie with the green stripes means business. The coat is paired with a pair of black pants and shoes, along with a tall black top hat that has a green trim along it. The Once-ler continues to wear this flashy outfit after the last Truffula tree has been felled.

Guitar

He also carries along a gray electric guitar with him, which is smashed by some little girl after a failed attempt to advertise the Thneed. Later, the guitar is repaired with duct tape that disappears at the very beginning of the Once-ler’s villainous musical number which I mentioned before on the last paragraph that I wrote and composed (It was an animation blunder, mind you). That guitar was soon replaced by a better and cooler red electric guitar, which with a strum of it, can literally topple down a hundred trees.

MULE AND FAMILY

His gray mule, Melvin, pulls his wagon vehicle across many places, but also moves it slowly, taking days, until Melvin alerts the Once-ler to show him something that he would like. Melvin also likes to eat Truffula Fruit, as shown when the Lorax feeds him that fruit. When the Once-ler’s company falls apart and the environment is polluted and dirtied, Melvin goes along with the animals on their way out in order to find a better and safer habitat to live in.

His mother, Isabella Once-ler (That is what the Lorax fans call her), is blonde and has a red hairclip on top of her poufy curled up hair. She wears a lavender polka-dot long-sleeved shirt and a boa which looks like a red dog. I think the dog has been slaughtered to make the boa. Isabella also wears glasses which frames are colored blue, and are oval. A long skirt and gray boots complete the look. Now then, the Once-ler’s uncle, Ubb is as short as Aloysius O’Hare and wears all black even donning a bowler hat, while his aunt, Grizelda is very fat, has ginger hair shaped like two crescents, and wears a purple dress with a beret decorated with a white feather. The Once-ler’s twin brothers, Brett and Chet Once-ler, both wear red shirts and blue overalls that have one strap loose. They are also mischievous and tease the Once-ler himself. They think that a bear is a football and throw it way far. They are bald, just like their uncle. The Once-ler family, overall, like to be quick and lazy and does not like his way of just harvesting the Truffula tufts, because it is very inconvenient and also very slow.

[candicewright]

Hola it is I, here to request the costume design thoughts. I love costuming and dress history and all that, so would love to know your thoughts!! 😊

Hello, my friend, you're once again going to get one of my super long rant posts because I have thoughts. This is also for @marshmallowmcgonagall who asked me about my thoughts on this too. Thank you both for indulging me💜

Disclaimer here: I am not a costumer nor a fashion historian and I barely have any idea of what I'm talking about here, so just bear with me.

So the first thing you want to know when watching a period drama is if the costumes are historically accurate. Note that there can never be 100% accuracy because that is just not how costumes work, there are a lot of things to keep in mind besides accuracy (mainly budget, artistic vision and practicality among other things).

The short answer to this question in Merlin's case is no, they are not accurate. The Arthurian Legend is meant to be set during the sixth century and most of these silhouettes are something that is more common in the latter part of the Middle Ages and even then they are not exact. Anglo-Saxon fashion in the 6th century was way less delicate, using fabrics such as linen or wool much more than the silks, chiffons, satins, and velvets we see in Merlin. The garments were way less structured, using a belt or girdle instead of corsets or stays, sometimes using veils or head coverings. The dresses would have been ankle-length and worn over an undergown. So, not at all like the ones we see in the show.

The thing with the Arthurian Legend though is that historical accuracy isn't a thing that exists in it. It's a story that mixes elements from multiple periods as well as with straight-up fantasy so you can literally throw any pretense of being historical out the window. Which leaves us with a mostly blank slate and a lot of room for artistic liberty.

Which brings us to the costumes in Merlin. It's obvious from watching the show that they did do some sort of research into medieval fashion, though they only took inspiration from it instead of straight-up reconstruction, which would have been pretty useless.

Let's take the example of a fan favorite: Gwen's red dress from Season 5.

This dress is gorgeous and it obviously seems to take inspiration from actual 15th century tunics. I know this because I watched a reconstruction of a 15th century gown and I immediately started drawing parallels to this particular look. I'm going to go ahead and venture that this has about 6-7 panels since the dress doesn't seem to have a waist seam (which an actual garment from the period might have had). The sleeves seem to be lined with some sort of silk or satin which I believe is something you could find in very upper class clothing like this. Also, the belt and general shape of the gown seem to look accurate as well. The neckline is, though very flattering, not at all historical and probably the embroidery isn't either but I don't really care because embroidery you know? The dress would have probably been worn over some sort of chemise and would have opened with buttons or a variant of them at the front instead of lacing at the back.

The lacing is also pretty inaccurate. Corsets or stays (which I believe didn't really exist at this point anyway) would have been laced with one single strip looping instead of the double strip crossing that we see in these. Do I really care? No, it looks very pretty and if we're already going so off, might as well make it look good.

You know what I'm also a sucker for besides embroidery and historical patterns? Undergarments and structure, which all of Gwen's dresses seem to have. I mean:

Very structured looking for just being a satin gown with nothing underneath. I will venture to say she has some built-in corset or something similar, though I may be completely wrong.

I may not be, however, because we sometimes get to see these structural garments:

And however inaccurate this is I. Love. It.

Another thing that I appreciate a lot is that they didn't seem to cut corners with the fabrics. Yes they used some synthetic ones but there are a lot of actual silks in there, as well as other pretty costly fabrics. And they used a lot of them which is probably why the costumes look so good in the first place.

Also, have I mentioned I love embroidery?

Those two dresses are probably my favorites because look at them! They are purple and pretty and shiny! My gay heart can't take it!

The male costumes in the show are way less impressive to be honest, though I really appreciate Arthur's pretty armor and sexy tunics. My favorite male wardrobe is probably Uther's, to my utter dismay. But to be honest, it's much better than that of any other character, which makes sense since he cares about conveying status more than any other character in the show. No, but for real, look at this:

So good! Very royal! I would have loved to see Arthur in something like this in the later seasons, especially next to Gwen looking as gorgeous as she does in all those fancy dresses. They are also probably wildly inaccurate but I couldn't find any male 6th century dress reconstructions so I don't really know for sure.

If I can make two complaints about the costumes in the show, they would be the following:

I would have pushed Merlin's costumes a lot more as the show progressed. I feel like with him being the protagonist we were left with very little in terms of his wardrobe which frankly, having such a gorgeous man like Colin Morgan, is an absolute sin.

I would have loved to see the fantasy aspect of the show being reflected way more in the costumes. Maybe accentuating the magical aspects of certain characters by going father away from historical fashion and more into complete fantasy territory. They did this a little bit, but not enough to be very noticeable and I think it would have kicked the entire thing up a notch.

If I'm being completely honest though, I love the costume design in this show and I would love to recreate so many of these dresses because they are simply gorgeous. When you have a source material that allows such artistic liberty, you might as well make the most of it and they certainly did.

I may have gotten a lot of this stuff wrong. Again I have no idea what I'm talking about, so please feel free to correct me or add onto whatever you want!

[kindrednerdspirit]

Sometimes a Thing Feels so Right: Part 4

Excerpt: This revelation, however, is not without its issues, because Casey now finds herself in the tricky situation of knowing it’s best to avoid private moments with Iz, but she also wants private moments with her.

Monday, first block. Casey’s perspective.

It’s 20 minutes before track practice starts and Casey has one goal: avoid any potential private moments with Izzie. Her decision is influenced by her most recent talk with Elsa. In a bizarre turn of events, the universe decided Casey would connect with Elsa on a deeper level twice in one week. Their first talk about Casey’s grandma helped her understand Elsa’s helicopter parenting and why she gets, well, annoyingly intrusive. Their second talk was an accident. A host of Izzie feelings reached a boiling point for Casey and her Izzie issues spilled out in front of Elsa.

For context, this is how it all went down:

The smell of roast fills the Gardner house. Sam works at the kitchen table as Elsa takes dinner out of the oven. He is sketching a new piece for his art class. 

“Sam, honey, do you mind telling your sister that dinner is ready?” Elsa asks as she cuts the roast.

“I do mind. I have to finish this sketch by tomorrow.”

Elsa is not surprised by her son’s very literal answer. He had been in flow for hours, sitting in the same spot since he got home from class. This is not a battle she wants to take part in, so she walks up the stairs to get Casey. Strangely, the door is ajar by a few inches. Curious in a way that any parent is interested in their teenager’s “secret” life, Elsa peers in before announcing dinner is ready. Casey is lying on her bed, curled toward the wall and sniffling.

She acts like she hasn’t been spying, and quietly knocks. “Case, dinner is ready.”

“Uh, sure. I’ll be right down.” Casey’s voice is soft.

Don’t meddle, don’t meddle, don’t meddle. Elsa repeats the phrase over and over in her head as she walks back into the kitchen and takes dinner into the dining room. A few minutes pass before Casey makes her way downstairs.

She sees Sam drawing at the kitchen table. “Why aren’t you eating?”

“I need to finish my sketch. It’s due tomorrow.”

“So, take a 10 minute break, eat, then finish it.”

Sam avoids eye contact and looks at the table the entire time he speaks. “Professor Shinerock says you have to find your peak time to achieve flow. My peak time is in the afternoon around 2:30, so this is when I have to start working on my art, because it’s when I’ll be at my most creative and productive. Professor Shinerock says to continue working in flow state for as long as possible.” 

“You know what else helps creativity and productivity? Not starving.”

“Of course, starving ruins creativity and productivity, because you’d be dead!” Sam tilts his head and furrows his brow. “That’s a ridiculous thing to say.” Without another word, Sam puts on his headphones and returns to his sketch.

“If you’re not eating by the time I’m done dinner, I’m pretending you’re an egg.” Casey walks away with a smile, knowing that Sam did not hear her warning. She sits at the table with Elsa and starts helping herself to potatoes. The two sit in silence for a minute, save for cutlery clanging against their plates.

“Sweets, I know I shouldn’t meddle--”

“So don’t.” Casey finishes.

“--but I’m just going to say one thing, then nothing else. Promise.”

Casey rolls her eyes but let’s her mum continue. Elsa takes a deep breath to collect herself. “You just found out that UCLA is interested in you, but you seem sad. And you haven’t had Izzie over in weeks, you mope around the house, you’re unexpectedly crotchety...”

“Mum!” Casey groans. “Please, get to the point.”

“I don’t know if Izzie is jealous about UCLA scouting you, but whatever is happening between you two... it will sort itself out. Try not to fret too much.”

Casey stares at her plate and pauses to mull over her mum’s words. “How do you know?” She’s afraid to look at Elsa. Afraid that if she does, all her emotions will flood out.

“Because of how you two look at each other. It’s special.” Elsa smiles, reflecting on when she first met Doug. When they first met, they shared the same long stares and goofy smiles as Casey and Izzie. Boy, that seemed like a lifetime ago.

“Thanks.” Casey is surprised by her mum’s kind words. “I don’t know if it will, though.” Her voice cracks. She shuts her eyes, because she can feel the tears forming. Elsa practically leaps out of her seat to embrace her daughter. She kisses Casey’s head, then soothingly brushes back her hair with her fingers.

“She’s… embarrassed to be seen with me.” Casey murmurs.

Elsa nods, knowingly. “I’m sorry, love.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her daughter’s ear. “Not everyone is as confident and comfortable with themselves as you.”

Casey smiles sheepishly and swipes away the tears. Of course, Elsa feels protective of Casey. She doesn’t want anybody breaking her daughter’s heart. At the same time, Elsa also understands Izzie’s situation to a certain extent, making her feel like a protective momma bear toward her, too. They have the shared experience of growing up with an absent parent, and perhaps, similar insecurities. Not to mention that both Casey and Izzie are just beginning to understand their sexual identities, so it's not surprising that this self knowledge is leading to difficult feelings.

Elsa is suddenly very grateful for reading up on parenting tips for LGBTQ+ kids. She chooses her next words carefully, so as not to imply to Casey that she knows about Izzie’s home situation. “Give her time, hon.” 

“I think I love her.” Casey sniffles.

“I know.” 

“Love who?” Doug walks into the room looking for dinner. He just got back from work, and somehow slipped into the house without the girls noticing. The question hangs in the air a few beats too long.

“Uhm, Izzie.” Despite not wanting this conversation to happen in this moment, Casey looks her dad in the eye.

“Yeah, I love her too!” He grins and pulls out a chair, completely oblivious to what is going on. Casey is not sure what to do, so she looks at her mum. The two watch as Doug happily sticks a fork into the roast beef, then proceeds to scoop carrots. The girls stifle some laughter. Maybe it’s best to let this one slide, considering Casey and Izzie’s relationship status is currently unknown.

“What?” Doug asks after noticing the girls’ looks.

“Nothing, Dad. Girl stuff.” Casey looks at her mum as she says it, knowing it will mean something more to her. She then grabs her plate and excuses herself from the table before dropping her dishes in the sink. Sam is still in the kitchen, completely absorbed in his art.

“I warned you!” Casey shouts. “Prepare to be egged!” With that, she scrambles onto Sam’s chair and sticks her butt on his head.

“Hey, stop! What are you doing?!” Sam protests.

“Don’t blame me. You’re the one who compared me to a penguin, so now, you’re my egg.”

“Why would that make me an egg? That makes no sense! You ruined my flow!” They continue squabbling, wrestling, and yelling.

Meanwhile, Doug looks at Elsa with a bemused but impressed expression. “Girl talk? Really?”

Elsa cannot help but beam.

***

Needless to say, when Casey found herself stretching on the field 20 minutes early, it was a calculated move. It’s amazing how saying something out loud can make things so clear. Once she told Elsa that Izzie was embarrassed to be seen with her as her girlfriend, something clicked. Casey could never pretend to be just friends with Izzie, it would never work out. She simply wasn’t the type of person to pretend, the type to play a role, even if it meant keeping Izzie close. 

This revelation, however, is not without its issues, because Casey now finds herself in the tricky situation of knowing it’s best to avoid private moments with Iz, but she also wants private moments with her. 

While she works on her quads, Izzie jogs past and veers off to stretch on her own. She’s wearing the tight Adidas shorts that show off her beautiful curves. Casey always considered her own muscular legs to be tall and lanky, but Izzie’s… they were shapely in all the most appealing ways from her legs to her hips. The same hips she held onto whenever she pulled Izzie close. She fit so comfortably in her embrace, with her delightful warmth and faint smell of vanilla beans.

The best part was when Iz was really close and her chin would dip up. Casey would look down and see the same desire in her eyes as she felt all over her body. A shiver would go down her spine, her breathing would quicken. And everything else would just, sort of, disappear. Fade off into the background. Iz would smile, showing off her button dimples and Casey would want to devour her right then and there for being too adorable.

Oh. My. God. Casey! You have one job. Actually, two jobs. No private moments with Izzie and no getting turned on by Izzie because it’s a slippery slope, my dude. Quick, think of gross things. Zahid kissing Gretchen? Zahid in a robe? Ew, ew, ew! Too far. Poor Zahid. I love the guy for being Sam’s friend, but he’s a serious vagina mood killer.

Izzie looks up from her stretching and their eyes meet. She has the longing eyes and Casey knows exactly what she wants. Shit. It’s too hard, so she looks away. Much too hard. The rest of track practice follows a similar pattern of eyes meeting and diverting. 

***

After 60 minutes of failing miserably at ignoring Izzie, Casey is relieved when Coach blows the whistle. She hustles to the locker room with a few other teammates. Casey is talking to another teammate when Iz jogs over, her high ponytail bouncing with each step. She cannot help but disassociate from the conversation, because she sees the infamous Adidas shorts. And just like that, she’s done for. Blood rushes toward her southern regions. The Zahid tactic fails. Once again, Casey curses her body and heart for betraying her brain. 

“Yo, Newton! Wait up!” Iz shouts.

At the sound of her voice, Casey wavers for a millisecond. She decides to continue listening to her peers, pretending not to hear. But Iz is persistent. Casey’s words from the other night with Elsa race through her head.

She’s embarrassed to be seen with me.

The words are upsetting. There’s so many reasons why, it’s hard to pick only one, but she mostly feels frustrated. Frustrated that she cannot hold or kiss Izzie in public, that she cannot share her love with the world, despite their mutual feelings. Worst of all, she feels the immense hurt that comes with knowing she cannot pretend to be just friends. She hates that it has to be all or nothing. But to do otherwise, would be to betray herself. All these complicated emotions build up inside her until she finds herself towering over Izzie.

“I don’t know how to make this more clear. I don’t want to talk to you.”

Her cold tone surprises even her. She watches Izzie’s eyes widen, then feels her heart clench in response. Despite everything, her instant reaction is to make Iz feel better. And she easily could. Casey could slip her arms around her, up to the small of her back. Then, she could gently pull Izzie toward her and lean in. She could hover in front of her lips to tease Iz, the two sharing the same, delicious air.

“I--”

“Please, don’t follow me.” Casey cuts off Iz with a firm response. She gulps--that was close. Her feet hurry toward the locker room, whisking her away as quickly as possible. She hated feeling like an overdramatic school girl or like she was in some terrible rom-com. Big deal. Just be friends, right? At the same time, though, she knew there was no other way.

[paperficwriter]

A Deer Dance (Charlastor, Hazbin Hotel)

Alastor is a deer demon, and while he's never been lonely, he's not going to say no to a little doe that seems as interested in him as he with her.

Dirty Paper warning!

---

Living or dead, Alastor always did like to believe that he was one of a kind. The best of the best, and a step above the rest. And, in many ways, he was right; when he compared himself to other radio personalities, or home chefs, or, now, demon lords, that knowledge that he was better would add a skip in his step and the huge smile on his face.

He wondered if that gap that remained open between him and everyone else was the reason why his appearance was so different here. He’d never seen another deer demon before. All of the other shapes of demonic beasts were represented, certainly. Wolves. Bears. Goats. God, so many goats, it had ruined any dish with meat or milk that he might come across.

There were rumors of others, but perhaps his presence, his power, had sent them all into hiding.

That would make sense. Alastor didn’t particularly appreciate being shown up (and most denizens across the Nine Circles were more than aware of that). Just his average appearance - his dashing suit, the cloven prints of his shoes, the long fluffy tufts of his hair and his sharp-toothed grin - parted many a crowd, but in his true demonic form with its rack of horns and dead-eyed, sharp-toothed leer, most hoped to just survive the encounter.

But it was in his fairly casual shape that he went to Mimzy’s Club for a colorful event that she was hosting that particular evening. The Burlesque Revue had been all the talk across the city for several weeks before, something that was supposed to combine the lurid fantasies that were commonplace in this corner of Hell with something a little more artistic.

“Listen, if there’s gonna be stripping, ain’t nobody gonna say no to that,” he had heard one demon say as they looked at the poster of one particularly long-legged dame with a boa around her shoulders. “If they wanna make it fancy, s’alright by me, just so long as they take it all off at the end, yeah?”

There certainly wasn’t any proof that Alastor had set the unbearable dolt on fire. People combust all the time in Hell!

After all, the concept alone sounded entertaining enough for Alastor, that was for certain, but what really intrigued him the most was the rumor that the whole thing was being hosted to bring attention to some hospitality project being taken on by the Princess of Hell herself, Charlotte Magne. And if she was anything like the classical piece of art her mother Lilith was on stage, he did not want to miss this for anything.

Mimzy clearly had tried to doll up the place. There were fairy lights everywhere, and thick drapes of black and red velvet scooped down from each pillar along the edge of the club floor. An entire area had been elevated into a stage and that was littered with props and poles and bars.

“Al!” Mimzy gushed as soon as he came in, rushing over to take both of his hands. “I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you. These people are annoying the shit out of me. I forgot how the artsy crowd could be such a bunch of divas.”

“Mim, Mim, Mim,” he tutted, “I think you just described the entire population of the here-after. The artists just happen to have practice, don’t you know?”

They laughed about that, and then someone spoke up behind him, a young, sweet voice that was so different from the raucous roar he was used to that it was almost startling. “Hey, Mimzy, I’m so sorry to bother you. Can we get a little more light on stage left?”

“What do I look like, an electrician?”

“No, but the electrician snuck into one of the dancer’s dressing rooms, and I’m pretty sure he won’t be waking up anytime soon.”

Mimzy sighed as Alastor turned to the source of the voice. “I’ll get right on it, Princess,” she groused before disappearing.

And there she was. The Heir to the Throne of Hell. What had Alastor been expecting? Someone dressed like Lucifer, probably, a mess of over-the-top vaudevillian aesthetic and an extremely untrustworthy face. And yet somehow, that horrible cretin had helped to birth the most beautiful creature Alastor had ever laid his eyes on. Even if it had just been the classy black dress, the diamonds in a cascading pattern down her neck, the silver apple tiara atop her blond hair styled in a gorgeous updo...all that would have been more than enough to catch Alastor’s attention, but then...

“Charlie. Please.” She said it like it was one of a thousand times she had insisted. And although Mimzy was already gone, her ears perked at Alastor.

Her slightly furry, tear-drop shaped ears, and a tail turned up behind her where the dress had been perfectly cut to let it out.

Another demon just like him. No, not just like him. A doe.

“Well,” he greeted with a low bow. “I’m glad I won’t be making that mistake. I will never call you by a name that is not your preference, my dear.”

She giggled into her hand, covered by a long opera glove that matched the black of her dress. “I appreciate it. And you must be Alastor. Unless you prefer ‘the Radio Demon’?”

Oh, she was a quick one. Not that Alastor was ever good at flying under the radar. “I would prefer ‘yours,’ actually.”

That got an even darker blush from her already-rosy cheeks. Her tail twitched a little bit. “That’s a title that comes with many responsibilities, Alastor,” she said through a little smile, clearly trying to keep up with him.

“Where do I send my resume, darling, because I’m always looking for a job with better benefits.”

“Well, you certainly know how to dress to impress.” Charlie bit her lip as she glanced at him up and down. Alastor knew when he was being sized up, and he let her take him in, knowing already that she was having the same response to him as he had to her. You’re someone like me, her eyes said. After so long.  

“Maybe in this case,” he said quietly, stepping in close to her. “I should have left the suit at home. After all, you should dress for the job you want, shouldn’t you?”

Charlie leaned in. This close, he could see all the soft strands of fur on her ears, the pink inside. He wanted so, so much to touch them, but...not yet. There would be time and privacy for that yet. “I’d really like to continue this interview,” she whispered, “but as you can see I have a revue to oversee.”

“After, then,” he said, slipping her hand into his and cradling it. So small. Delicate. “I have a tower with an extremely quaint office overlooking the city. It’s quite comfortable, you’ll find.”

She nodded, voice breathless. “After.”

---

Charlie let Alastor take her home. If anything, Alastor thought he noticed her speed up a bit through her acknowledgements and post-show credits, now and then glancing his way. Nobody else would notice, but he could see the way her tail was flashing, how she wanted to run.

Run to him, no less.

And she did, in the huge fluffy stole that she had worn on stage after her act when her dress had been taken off and then pulled back on only as a skirt, her pale skin just showing though her breasts were hidden. He had never driven himself faster back to his Radio Tower.

The only person down in the “lobby” was Husk, and he was playing a computerized slot machine that he had won in a game with Alastor (though to be fair, Alastor let him win, because otherwise he threatened to leave altogether, and one piece of infernal technology was payment enough for service he could count on).

“Don’t wait up, Husker-chum,” he said, Charlie on his arm.

“Why the fuck would I literally ever care what you are do...do...” He trailed off in that moment. Husk had looked up momentarily from the game, catching a glance at Charlie, and his mouth just stayed in that same ‘o’ until they were in the elevator. Then, as though realizing that the moment Charlie went upstairs with Alastor it would all be over, he fell over himself running toward the quickly-closing doors. “Hey, what’s the rush?!” he asked hastily. “Let’s hang out! The night’s young! We can get some drinks or hit a bar or--” Alastor snapped his fingers, and the doors refused to open, even as he hit the button. “I’m not always great with sharing,” he said as Charlie was quietly laughing into the fur around her neck.

“Good,” she said, dropping the wrap to the red floor. She stood before him now with nothing but diamonds from the waist up, blinking at him bashfully despite the fact that she was the one who had made this quite-forward, more-than-brazen move. In the mirrored wall of the elevator, he could see her tail, soft and twitching just so. Now, now he did reach out to caress it, to run his long fingers through it. She shivered and instinctively huddled close to him. “So what were you saying about your qualifications before?”

As much as he had planned to continue their little tete-a-tete, it was hard to manage at the sight of her so natural. He pulled her out of the elevator when they reached the top floor and made quick work of getting her out of the rest of the dress. He dragged his mouth across her thigh, the little freckles there looking like the same pattern on young does.

At some point, his antlers sprang from his head, creaking slightly like branches over them, and when she sprang to his boudoir, he didn’t know how she would respond to his coming up from behind her, grabbing her waist and pressing in tight and close where she could feel the bulge in his pants.

He didn’t think she would moan and raise her tail to him, inviting him inside.

It wasn’t the only way they would have one another that night, but it was the most intense. The most instinctive, the best and only way he could imagine fucking in this form of his that he had gained. They didn’t speak, not even each other’s names, and yet he felt like he had known her for eternity before that, and that she wasn’t some mysterious woman that had just happened to fall into his life.

They didn’t even kiss until that first round was over, when she was gasping and clutching at the covers of his four-post bed, and he had nuzzled her face until it met his.

“I think,” she said softly, sometime quite a while later, her head on his chest, gold hair now free and messy all over his sheets, “we might have a position available for you.”

“Only one?” he teased as he rolled her onto her back and came back down to kissing her neck.

[darksideofparis]

Some writing I’ve been working on..

This is from an as yet untitled Criminal Minds Hotch/OC. And yes, it was inspired by the TV show, Castle.

Takes place in season 2 between ‘The Boogeyman’ and ‘North Mammon’.

Also, this is a rough draft so forgive me if some stuff seems off! And, yes, I AM working on ‘Pros and Cons’. This is just to get Delaney’s voice out of my head for a little while. :)

The sound of a door opening jarred Delaney out of her flashback. Her eyes darted to Agent Hotchner, now holding a small stack of files. She eyed him as he took the seat across from her.

For his part, Hotch was also eyeing her. He suspected, going off her physical appearance alone, that most people did. Delaney Tyler was unquestionably an attractive woman. She had dirty blonde hair that hung several inches past her shoulders. Her face was heart-shaped and nearly dominated by her big brown eyes. ‘Doe eyes’, Hotch thought they were called.

As evidenced by where he’d found her, Delaney was dressed for a party. She wore a long-sleeved royal blue dress with a laced-up front. The revealing front dipped down to just above Delaney’s belly-button, perfectly showing off her cleavage and a nice glimpse of her breasts. Her shoes were five-inch snakeskin patterned stilettos. Her only jewelry consisted of a pair of dangly black crown earrings. Her other accessory, a pair of oversized black Gucci sunglasses, rested on the table beside her.

Her face had been made up but not extravagantly so. Her eyeshadow was neutral, serving only to accent her large eyes and her lips were painted a vivid, but not overly bright, shade of red. It had been presumably chosen so as not to look too harsh against her pale, porcelain skin. Overall, her appearance, while extremely daring, was also remarkably classy. An interesting contradiction, in Hotch’s opinion.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Ms. Tyler,” he said as he opened a file. “You know most bestselling authors don’t have a rap sheet.” Keeping one eye on Delaney, he perused the contents Garcia had dug up. “Public intoxication in October 1996.” He looked up. “You’d have been what? Fifteen? Sixteen?”

Delaney’s lips were pinched. “Fifteen,” she said coolly. “I was at a friend’s Halloween party. Neighbors complained about the noise, cops showed up.”

“Yes, it says here the neighbors were complaining specifically about you standing on the sidewalk singing ‘Neon Moon’ at the top of your lungs.” Hotch raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Never heard that song before, Agent Hotchner? That’s a shame. It’s one of Brooks & Dunn’s best. I’d be happy to sing it for you, if you like.” Delaney gave him her mega-watt grin. She highly doubted this man, whose countenance was as cool as a cucumber, would take her up on her admittedly ridiculous offer, but she couldn’t help herself. The guy was hot.

Not to mention, but she didn’t really want to dwell on that particular memory. It wasn’t one of her favorites. The circumstances behind her arrest that night were occasionally too much to bear thinking about.

“I’ll pass,” was Hotch’s dry response. He went to the next arrest. “December 1996. Taken into custody at a movie theater for suspected public intoxication, no alcohol involved.”

Delaney put her hands in her lap. She didn’t want Agent Hotchner seeing them start to shake. “They let me go. Didn’t even do a drug test. I reacted badly to the movie I went to see. I shouldn’t have gone to see Scream. The events of which it was based on were still pretty fresh in my mind.”

This surprised Hotch. He remembered when that movie came out. Most people who weren’t law enforcement hadn’t dwelled on the real life murder spree that had inspired Scream’s screenwriter. “The Gainesville Ripper? That freaked you out so much?”

Delaney shrugged, though she was inwardly sighing with relief that Agent Hotchner had bought the lie – at least the no drugs in her system part. “My parents are university professors. Nowhere near Florida, but the murders did disturb me at the time. I was scared a copycat would start up where my parents worked.”

“I see.” And he did, probably much more than Delaney Tyler wanted him to. Her story about being freaked out by Scream because it had been based on real events she worried somehow impacting her parents had a ring of truth about it. But she was holding something back. He suspected it had to do with the ‘suspected public intoxication’ the police hadn’t bothered testing.

He also hadn’t failed to notice her putting her hands in her lap. That action seemed to indicate she was trying to hide something.

“Her hands are shaking, Hotch,” Morgan informed him via earpiece.

“Classic sign of anger,” Gideon remarked.

Hotch noted their observations, but continued with the arrest record. “Then quite a few truancies, and then in April 1997, arrested for heroin possession.”

Delaney clenched her hands into fists, though she knew it wouldn’t do any good. She could feel her shoulders starting to tremble as well. So much for hiding it, she thought dryly. “I was not in a good place at the time.” The words were spoken slowly but even Delaney could hear the unsteadiness in them. She had no doubt Agent Hotchner could as well.

Hotch didn’t give anything away, but Delaney’s response was telling. She was clearly annoyed about her past teenage arrests being brought up, but this arrest in particular was causing her to literally shake with rage.

“Why are you even talking about this?” Delaney demanded. She didn’t even care that she was nearly shouting. “You didn’t bring me here to read me the riot act on things I did a decade ago! You brought me here to discuss murders.” She let out a scoff. “Where did you even get those records anyway? If you’ll care to look, you’ll note I was put in rehab after that last arrest. The judge dropped the charges and expunged my record after I got clean.”

“We have a very good technical analyst.”

Delaney looked like she was about to say something scathing in response, but she surprised Hotch by closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. She sat like this for a few seconds before slowly exhaling. After another moment, she opened her eyes. The big brown orbs stared right into his.

“You have not answered my question, Agent Hotchner.” Her words were slightly clipped, but spoken in a much calmer tone. “Why are we talking about an expunged arrest record from ten years ago? You said you wanted to speak to me about some murders.”

After staring at her for one long moment, Hotch grabbed the second file. He slid a photo across the table. “Jenny Kavanagh,” he said as Delaney studied the photo. It was a standard DMV photo, showing a pretty young woman in her late twenties with long, platinum blonde hair, brown eyes, and dimples on each cheek. She wore a simple green t-shirt and a necklace with the astrological symbol for Leo as the charm.

Delaney suddenly felt a sickening feeling in her stomach. “What happened to her?” she asked as she slid the photo away.

Hotch produced another photo. “She was found two weeks ago like this.” Jenny Kavanagh was now lying on her couch, eyes closed and arms crossed over her chest in the classic coffin position. Perched atop her pristine white blouse was a single white card with the words My Sincerest Condolences written on it in black cursive.

“Your Condolence Card,” Delaney gasped. Her doe eyes were huge as she stared first at the photo, then at Hotch, then back at the photo. She swallowed thickly before saying, “I’m guessing no outward cause of death except for a puncture wound on the back of her neck?

“Correct,” Hotch nodded. His eyes didn’t move from her. It was very hard to fake genuine concern for victims, especially people you’d never met. However, Delaney Tyler’s eyes were wide and unblinking. She stared at Jenny’s face, as though willing her eyes to open and show that everything was alright.

There was no way Delaney Tyler committed the murder of Jenny Kavanagh. Nor the others, if Hotch’s profiling was right.

Wordlessly, he slid another DMV photograph across the table. “Brian Tanaka.” The young man was barely out of his teens. His hair was cut in a bowl style and he wore a sweatshirt from the University of Florida. Before Delaney could really study him, she was being handed another photo. “Metro police found him like this straight out of Love to Hatred Turn’d about three hours ago.”

In terms of ways to die, Brian Tanaka had drawn the short straw. Delaney winced at the image of him lying on his back on a dark wooden floor, presumably in his apartment, limbs spread akimbo and an absolutely terrified look on his face. The reason for his terror was the gaping hole in his chest. Delaney knew without having to ask that his heart had been removed while he was alive. She glanced at his wrists. Ligature marks, presumably from the rope used to restrain him.

Just like in the book.

“Looks as though I have a fan,” she observed.

“A deranged one, yes,” Hotch confirmed.

Delaney suddenly looked up and smiled broadly. “Oh, I don’t think you’re deranged, Agent Hotchner. Far from it, actually.”

Hotch blinked, then blinked again. “Excuse me?”

Delaney’s smile grew. She knew exactly what he’d meant, but really, how could she resist? The man was hot with a capital H.

Aloud, she said, “Oh, come on, Agent Hotchner. Love to Hatred Turn’d? A Siren takes the hearts of the men she sleeps with to sustain her so she can continue living on dry land?” Delaney snorted. “I only wrote that ‘cause I needed rent money. The story sucks and I know it. Only die-hard Delaney Tyler fans read that.”

Hotch struggled to maintain his composure. Admittedly, this wasn’t a difficult thing for him to do, but damn if Delaney Tyler wasn’t making a dent in his stoic armor. Instead of rising to her bait, he asked, “Have you ever met Ms. Kavanagh or Mr. Tanaka before? Book signing? Charity event?”

Delaney studied the DMV photos again. Try as she might, there wasn’t a single flicker of recognition for either victim. “No, I’m sorry. It’s possible at a book signing, but I sign so many books during those, it’s impossible to remember everyone’s faces or names.” She gave him another grin. “But I assure you, I’d definitely remember yours.”

Ignoring the snickering in his earpiece, Hotch reached into the file again. He saw Delaney’s eyes widen and her face become paler than it already was. He could practically hear her thoughts. Dear God, another one?! “Dominic Cavalleri. High school softball coach. Do you recognize him?”

Dominic Cavalleri’s DMV photo could have come straight out of a fashion magazine. He had tousled sandy brown hair, shining blue-green eyes, and the kind of tan that came not from a salon but from spending time outdoors. There was a light sprinkling of freckles across his nose and cheeks, giving him a kind of boyish charm. Overall, Dominic Cavalleri was one good looking man.

Delaney smiled appreciatively at the photo but it dimmed as she remembered he was now dead. Dead because some lunatic was running around killing people like she did in her books. “How did he die?” she asked quietly.

Hotch’s expression revealed none of his inner revulsion and slight nausea as he gave her the crime scene photo. “A Scythe for Schuyler. Three weeks ago.”

Delaney took one look at the photo and immediately whirled away with a gasp. Shutting her eyes, she did her best to block out the image she’d just seen. Dominic Cavalleri’s body had been lying on the floor of what was presumably his apartment. His head was several feet away, having rolled partway under a leather couch. The scythe that had sliced his head off lay right next to his body.

“Are you okay?” Hotch asked as Delaney put a hand over her mouth. “Do you need a trash-can-,”

Delaney hastily swallowed back the bourbon threatening to make a reappearance. “I’m fine,” she said, voice slightly strangled. “Just . . . just give me a minute.”

Delaney tucked her head between her knees. She wasn’t sure if there was any scientific basis on this position curbing nausea, but right now, she figured there was no harm in trying.

As she breathed in and out slowly and evenly, just like the rehab therapist had taught her, Delaney’s mind whirled over this latest information. Not only was someone killing people the way she did in her books, they’d chosen A Scythe for Schuyler as one of them. Her breathing grew a touch harsher. Her eyes narrowed. How dare they! She thought.

When she rose back up, Hotch noticed an immediate change in her demeanor. Delaney’s jaw was tightly clenched, enough to where he could see a muscle in her cheek twitching. Her eyes flashed with barely concealed anger. She clasped her hands together. Her French-tipped nails rather resembled claws.

“Interesting,” Gideon mused. “She was upset about the other murders, but this one has her really incensed.”

“Almost like it’s affected her personally,” Morgan added. “More personally than it has already.”

“Is everything alright?” Hotch asked. His tone held a touch of wariness.

“I’m fine,” Delaney said, her words curt.

Hotch inwardly snorted. Yeah, right. “You really don’t seem to be,” he said, not unkindly. “There’s a muscle in your jaw ticking. In the past minute, your heartbeat has accelerated and your hands have started shaking. I suspect that’s why you put them in your lap earlier and have them clasped together now, to keep me from noticing.”

Delaney’s mouth falling open proved he was right. She gaped at him as he went on. “It’s a clear sign of anger. Interestingly, you haven’t reacted like this to any of the other murders I’ve showed you. Upset, certainly, but not this . . . infuriated.”

Delaney tightened the grip on her hands. Not that it would do much good, but maybe it would keep Agent Hotchner from commenting on them again. How did he even notice that? She wondered. She would have noticed it in someone, but she had trained herself to notice body language and behavior. Do FBI agents study it? None of the ones she’d seen on TV had, but then again, that was television. This was real life.

“I wrote A Scythe for Schuyler at a pretty low point in my life.” She kept eye contact with Agent Hotchner, making sure that, if he did study body language, he would know she was telling the truth. “It was . . . cathartic, I guess you could say.”

“About someone important to you?” Hotch asked. There was a little itch in his brain, but for the life of him he didn’t know what it was about.

Delaney’s eyes became slightly moist. “Very important,” she said softly. She averted her eyes for a moment. When she looked back up, they were clear.

“So what exactly is it you do?” she asked.

Hotch stared at her. His brow furrowed in confusion. “I’m an FBI agent . . .?”

“Yes, I know that,” Delaney said with a roll of her eyes. “But you’re clearly not some run of the mill FBI agent since you noticed all the minute aspects of my body language and what they meant in reference to my emotions.”

“You’re right,” Hotch nodded. “I’m a profiler with the Bureau’s Behavioral Analysis Unit.”

“Never heard of it.”

“We profile criminals. Basically, by studying the particulars of a crime scene as well as the victims – also called victimology – we can tell law enforcement officials who, exactly, they should be looking for.”

Delaney was amazed. This man could actually study a crime scene and come up with an idea of who had committed it? “So . . . you’re like Sherlock Holmes,” she summarized. “You can tell if someone committed a crime in an organized fashion or a crazed one, why their particular victim was targeted the same way Holmes could tell that Dr. Watson had a clumsy, careless maid.”

Hotch couldn’t quite keep a small smile from appearing. “I’ve never heard anyone liken it in that way, but yes, if you like.”

Any other time, Delaney would have made a remark about his smile, maybe a little come-on about offering her assistance in getting him to smile by use of other, more intimate activities, but she didn’t for two very good reasons. One, there was this case to concentrate on. Finding out who the hell was copying her crime scenes and why was far more important than her getting laid.

And two, she had just noticed the gleaming gold ring on Agent Hotchner’s third index finger.

Typical, she mentally groused. All the good-looking ones are either married or gay.

“So if you can give a profile of a criminal based on the crime scene and victimology, why bring me in?”

Hotch silently thanked God for his poker face as he said, “We wanted you to see if there was anything in these photos that might tip you off on anyone who would do this.”

“I can’t think of anyone I know doing this.” Delaney studied Brian Tanaka’s crime scene photo. Unlike Dominic’s, this crime scene she had no problem scrutinizing.

There was, she thought, something off about this photo. Something to do with the crime itself? Delaney wasn’t sure. Her brain was more preoccupied in replaying Agent Hotchner’s words. For some reason, she suspected that he hadn’t been telling her the whole truth. It wasn’t anything in his body language or his expression; the man would have no difficulty in cleaning up Vegas if he ever set his mind to it.

No, it was something else. Something Delaney couldn’t name. Maybe it was the writer part of her brain, the part that said that in every scene she wrote where things were going great, there had to be some kind of catch involved.

She decided to test it.

“Of course, I highly doubt you brought me in just to act as a consultant.” She glanced up from the pictures just in time to see the startled look on Hotch’s face. She smirked. Two for two on surprising, she thought victoriously.

Again, Hotch struggled to maintain his composure. How does she keep doing that? He wondered. He pushed that thought to the backburner and forced himself to focus on the matter at hand. “That’s right,” he said simply.

He expected Delaney to react with indignation, expressing contempt and fury for them having the audacity to consider her a suspect, but was once again shocked when she merely shrugged and went back to studying Brian Tanaka’s crime scene photo. Hotch stared at her for a few moments. “You’re not upset?” he finally asked.

“No. In fact,” Delaney looked up, “I’m impressed. In cases like this, your first suspect should be the creator of what the crime is based on. Gotta check and make sure the author isn’t some Catherine Tramell wannabe.”

Hotch frowned. “Who?”

Delaney stared at him. “Catherine Tramell?” she repeated. Seeing Hotch’s blank look, she added, “Played by Sharon Stone in Basic Instinct? Crazy author who kills people, then writes the murders into her books? Has a lot of hot as hell sex with Michael Douglas? During interrogation, she infamously crosses her legs and shows off her bare vul-,”

“We’re getting off track,” Hotch cut in. Delaney noted with a bit of amusement that the tips of his ears were a little pink from the word she had been about to utter.

“Right,” Delaney nodded, but she couldn’t resist adding, “Too bad my skirt’s too long to do what Sharon Stone did.” She turned back to the photos and smirked at the sound of Hotch choking on air.

As Hotch struggled to get the provocative images Delaney had painted out of his head, he heard a bunch of snickering in his ear-piece. “I like this girl,” Gideon was chuckling.

“Me too,” Morgan agreed. “Can we keep her?”

“H-have you ever received any disturbing letters?”

“Most of my fan-mail is disturbing. I haven’t read it since a few months after Your Condolence Card came out.” Delaney grimaced. “At nineteen years old, I was understandably freaked out by how many marriage proposals I was receiving from ex-cons. And I’m guessing the reason you’re asking is because you think whoever did this might be trying to contact me?”

Rather than being surprised again, Hotch was impressed. Delaney was incredibly intuitive to the team’s thought processes. Must be the writer part of her. “It happens a lot in cases like these.”

“I’ll tell my editor to deliver all my fan mail from the last six months here in the morning,” Delaney promised. “Or do you want it from further back than that?”

“Six months should be fine. We’ll let your editor know otherwise. And speaking of your editor . . . Would he happen to be a tall man in his early fifties with a slight French accent wearing . . . um . . .”

“Wearing a bright red suit and a red and white plaid fedora? Kinda looks like a pimp?”

“I . . . I wouldn’t have said it exactly like that . . .”

Delaney chuckled. He’s so adorable when flustered. She wished she could keep being the one to do that to him, but alas, he was married. Lucky girl. “Don’t worry, Agent Hotchner, you wouldn’t be the first to think that, nor will you be the last. I’m guessing he’s outside?”

“Insisted on waiting for you.”

With a nod, Delaney stood. Hotch did the same. “Well, if that’s everything . . .” Delaney trailed off as she watched him place the crime scene and DMV photos back in the file.

“Yes, I believe so.” His voice was a bit curt, in full-on ‘official’ mode. “Thank you for your help, Ms. Tyler.”

“I only wish I could’ve done more.”

[doctortdesigns]

Looks like we are starting to hit the season of fall fashions!  Simplicity has just announced their Pre-Fall collection, and I’ll be posting about Butterick’s Early Fall collection tomorrow as well!  Fall fashions tend to be my favorite, but, if I’m being honest, I’m not the most excited with these new releases.  Perhaps my feelings will change as I write this review (as they sometimes do), but as of right now, I’m holding out for the August Burda before I get really excited about fall fashions this year.  Regardless, there is a lot to look at in this release, so let’s get started:

  8686 – 1940s Vintage dress.  I tend to like 40s fashions, but this is one of those styles that really is too cute/sweet/girly for me to picture myself wearing.  I think the vintage lovers will enjoy this dress – it has lots of great features and style lines, but I think this is also one of those styles that looks distinctly vintage, and isn’t necessarily as translatable to someone who enjoys doing a “sneaky vintage” modern wardrobe.

  8687 – This shirt dress, on the other hand, feel very modern.  Also perhaps slightly scandalous?  I definitely get a “wearing my man’s oversized shirt as a robe after I get out of bed” vibe from this.  Not that there is anything wrong with that.  But I think it may limit the versatility of this as a wardrobe piece.  I do like the asymmetric hem and the wrap style, but, there is definitely a vibe I get from this piece that I don’t know if I’d be comfortable wearing in public.  Maybe a belt would change that feel for me?  Styling could change this look a lot I think…  Feel free to completely disagree with me in the comments on this one – I feel like this could be a super popular design, since it is one of the more unique looks in this release.

  8688 – This dress has some nice options, between the sleeve styles and the skirt styles.  I don’t know that I need to add it to my collection – I’ve got some knit dress patterns from back when I very first started sewing that are pretty similar – but I like this dress.  Looks like it would be great as an outfit base for those fall days when you need to transition between layers and no layers.

  8689 – This style of tunic really isn’t anything new, but I do think Simplicity did a nice job of styling and presentation.  Another pass for me, but I would be excited to see other sewing bloggers make this one up.

  8690 – Mimi G. Style.  I’m going to say that this dress looks adorable on Mimi!  But, again, this is a case where I know it isn’t something I’d wear myself, so it’s going to be a pass from a personal standpoint.  It is super cute though – the proportions of the sleeves are great in relation to the whole dress.

  8691 – Sew Chic dress.  This is clearly a vintage inspired look.  I like it, especially the short sleeved version, but I’m pretty sure I’ve got several vintage re-releases that are quite similar.  Another style that I find to be cute, but not special enough to warrant a spot in the stash.

  8692 – 1950s Vintage blouse pattern.  I do like the shape of these blouses: fitted, but not overly so.  I’m not a big fan of zippers on the back of a top, but for views A-C it is pretty unavoidable with such a high neckline.

  8693 – This asymmetric top looks like a button front shirt got halfway put on backwards to me.  I do like the simpler versions (as a one-shoulder 80s-inspired sweater I’m all about this pattern!), but I’m really not a fan of the view that Simplicity used for the model photo – it just looks ill fitting and sloppy.

  8694 – At this point there really is nothing left to say about these loose tops with sleeve details, except, look, another one!  This one does have dolman sleeves, so I guess that’s a new-ish variation to this style?  Really, though, at this point there are so many, just pick one.

  8695 – 1930s Vintage sleeve patterns.  Do I want this to use on modern sewing pattern?  No.  Do I want this for part of my costume/cosplay pattern stash so I can study the drafting on these sleeve variants?  You better believe it.

  8696 – I prefer my cardigans with less volume and more length, but this does look rather cozy.

  8697 – The square boyfriend blazer really isn’t a look that works for me, so I’ll avoid this pattern for myself, but I do like the single and double breasted options here, as well as the collar variants.

  8698 – I know it’s a drawstring pant, but it’s a drawstring pant with stripes and pockets and I like it.

  8699 – I also rather like this skirt as well.  I think I perhaps already have more than enough wrap pencil skirts in my Burda stash, but this one pattern seems to have a lot of variety, even though the pattern tweaks are pretty minimal between views.

  8700 – Pattern Hacking.  I’ve been thinking I want a more casual jacket for fall, but something about the proportions of this one just aren’t doing it for me.

  8701 – Pattern Hacking.  Somehow switching out pockets doesn’t seem like much of a “hack,” but what do I know?  I do like the silhouette and overall look of these, but, again, very similar to other styles I’ve got in the stash already.

  8702 – Mimi G. Style.  This tracksuit is pretty cute and very 80s.  I’s not be interested in the drop-crotch pants at all, but I do like the jacket, and the slim-legged pants are cute for a fall work-out look.

  8703 – This was a pattern that initially I just skipped over (it’s a plain yellow top and leggings), but, actually, those other tops with the stomach gathers are pretty cute!  I don’t know if this will make it onto my wishlist, but it is a definite maybe.

  8704 – Love these pull over tops!  The raglan sleeve and length look great for exercising is colder weather.  Plus, lots of cool pockets for exercising with devices.

  8705 – This man’s version somehow doesn’t read as exciting as the woman’s pattern, but the sleeve pouch for a phone or iPod is pretty great.

8706 – Baby Gear.  Not much to say about baby clothes, but the layers look practical.

8707 – I’ve been toying with the idea of a lace cardigan for a while, and this is exactly what I wanted.  Love this!  Totally going into my stash until I can locate the perfect lace fabric for this endeavor.

8708 – These girls dress are pretty generic, but also pretty cute for fall.

  8709 – Gertrude Made bags.  I don’t love the aesthetic of the bags in the photos, but from the line drawing, these are totally bags I would use.  I do wish it was drafted for a zip closure, but I suppose that is something one could find a way to add?

  8710 – These large travel duffle bags are also not depicted in a color scheme I’d enjoy, but I do love how practical the bags are, plus they fit over the handle of a rolly suitcase!  So cleaver.  I’d be curious to see how the inside is drafted (pockets???), but I think this might be on my list, since it seems my travel schedule is upping in the next year or so.

  8711 – Madalynne.  The bra does not look supportive enough for anyone outside of the A/B range, and why would you want to add butt ruffles to your underwear?  I mean, really?  At least from the standpoint of wearing underwear under clothes in any case.  I was going to ponder the butt ruffle as an analog to a tail feather and the implications that could have in mating rituals, but I shall refrain.

  8712 – Aprons.  Pretty simple, not too exciting, but could be good if you want to make a “mommy and me” sort of look.  The aprons loop pretty practical, if not overly embellished – nice pockets and full coverage.

  8713 -Hats!  These are actually pretty cool, and really practical styles for costuming.  Love how much variety comes in a single pattern too.

  8714 – Love the historical doll clothes.  So cute.

  8715 – Ok, I want, nay, NEED this dragon in my life!  How stinking cute is this?  And, I mean, let’s be real – I need at least three of them.  That’s right – NEED.

  8716 –  These bears are cute, but they aren’t dragons.

  8717 – More aprons.  I find the other style to be more pragmatic.

  8718 – I’m sure the internet will tell me if I’m wrong, but I really feel like this is supposed to be a Rey/Daenerys mash up of costume pieces?  Lots of great pieces in here for the cosplayers out there.

  8719 – I’m less excited by this… I don’t know what to call it?  Generic sexy fantasy style pattern?  I feel like all of these pieces have been recombined from pre-existing patterns.

  8720 – Good job on picking up that it is the 25th anniversary of Hocus Pocus!  I’m not even sure Disney has grasped that yet…  I’ve not seen crazy heavy advertising about re-release special editions or anything.  In regards to the pattern, I do wish these Sanderson sisters were a bit more detailed in the designs, but, bravo to Simplicity for winning at the cultural relevance game.

  8721 – One should never pass by a good cape pattern.  The hood shape looks really great, and the cape is nice and full.

  8722 – Once again, I’m sure the internet will inform me, but I’m not quite sure which franchise Simplicity is referencing here?  There are certainly shows I watch where jumpsuits are “the look” but this pattern is much baggier and less fitted than the styles used in those shows.  The tan one is a very Ghostbusters vibe, but I’m not sure if that is the reference I’m supposed to be picking up on here?

  8724 – Kids Star Wars/Superhero costumes.  Really versatile, and really cute.

  8725 – Nice to see Ariel added to the Disney Princess lineup.

  8726 – Super generic kids costumes.

  8727 – More generic kids costumes.

  8728 – Cool way to do a mermaid tail in this pattern.

  8729 – Kids capes, because, capes!

  5628 – Jiffy pattern re-release.  This literally is a piece of fabric folded in half, with two partial seams, and a neck opening.  Pass.

  9192 – Men’s vintage ties are kinda cool.  Not the massively wide one, but the skinny tie or bow tie could be useful.

And that’s it!  On the whole my top picks for this release really are in the craft/costume/cosplay realm.  Not too much new or exciting in the main release.  There is a lot of stuff I found “cute” but not much I felt needed to be added to the collection.  What do you all think?  See anything that is going to kick-start your fall sewing?  Or are we waiting for the bigger releases coming later next month?  Feel free to discuss in the comments!

Simplicity Patterns Pre-Fall 2018 #sewing #patterns #Simplicity #SimplicityPatterns #prefall #fallsewing Looks like we are starting to hit the season of fall fashions!  Simplicity has just announced their…

[rottenappleheart]

“if you’re going to liveblog something at least put it under a cut,” i say to myself

majora’s mask, unfiltered notes from opening screens to entering termina

the opening flybys of MM just... show you the world, and the people in it, living their lives, and Link unobtrusively in the middle of it all

various locations (my favorite is the graveyard with link sitting playing games with the skeleton children) but it always ends with the music souring, growing faint, the darkening sky, the lowering moon

the message is clear: this is a good place, it is in danger

(hidden message: it is not your good place, but that shouldn't make a difference, your heart instinctively goes out to these people who look so familiar)

contrast to the openings of the other games

oot: link is very solitary, a hero riding alone, interspersed with very dramatic scenes of his exciting adventures, it is a story of Destiny and Prophecy and Good Versus Evil

which matches as well with the actual first scene and the mood being set in each

oot: the lonely child, dreaming of horrible things and quaking in fear at his own powerlessness, and the friend who comes to him, navi the fairy, the literal Call To Action on his hero's journey

ww: your peaceful life, your idyll, your complete detachment from and indifference to history and destiny, until your idyll is violated by schemes older than you can imagine

tp: cold open on a soft and melancholy mood, a mature conversation between adults and the responsibilities they bear, emphasizing the humble beauty of life and hard work

mm: an even more intensely somber mood than tp - link riding alone, as he does in the dramatic openings of several different games, but slowly and with head down, plodding along through featureless woods... a heaviness and sadness to the scene, into which the ambush and robbery is jarring not only for the violation of your personal belongings but also for a violation of your quiet and inward mood

i just love that deeply unsettlign opening - the sound of a laugh over a dark screen, the mask rushing over your view, alternating between the heart and the horror, the horror and the heart

(the dark heart, the empty heart)

a game that really grips to the power of ungrounded images against the darkness - the mask salesman, some of the stories being told, Link undergoing his transformations where the whole world falls away and there is only darkness and solitude in this moment of pain

unrelated: i really love how they designed the clocks in mm, not just the big one obviously but the little copies scattered throughout the world! my sister and i once sat and stared at one until we could understand how it is tracking time. i love the colors and all the spinning parts.

actually i love all the textures and colors in mm, it's so much more detailed than oot, and one of the many reasons i haven't replayed it in forever is because i wanted to wait until i could play it via hypatia's high-res mod

okay that's enough sitting on the floor watching the loading screens time to go

at the mere feel of an n64 controller i am rushed back to my gentle youth

aw yeah hold R for shield, that's the stuff

the legend was held "dearly" by the royal familk=y

he crept away

a private journey

a beloved friend

link forsaking his own legends

and then the so-familiar sound  of navi's wings

i'm crying

the mask appearing before skull kid himself, a clue to what is going on and who is wearing whom

and that little glimmer of actual eye underneath (because at this point he can still take it off)

i wonder if the "huh? this guy? ... well, that shouldn't be a problem" was a reference to skull kid recognizing link (from their own youth, playing music together in the forest) or if one of the fairies pointed out the Sword, Shield, Steed heroic combo he's got going on

... okay so the thought of "what happens if the ocarina breaks" has played into MULTIPLE vast epics of loz fanfiction that never saw the light of day off my own personal hard drive

but it's a chilling thought! you are so helpless without it, even more than you are without a sword (because your adventures are based in doing the impossible)

for being a voiceless game it actually has a lot of voices, more than i recall in most other zelda games - everyone emotes a little bit, everyone is recorded

i still remember the first time i played this and realized that you do FLIPS when you jump now AND I HAD NEVER BEEN SO EXCITED

oh hang on gotta run through all the long streamery fairies so that they scatter

it's tradition

SWORD OUT

BUSHES TRIMMED

HYA!

and the ability to press Z to rapidly center the camera behind yourself, something a lot of games should continue to implement

looking at you, enslaved

and... acually everything, yeah, let me put the camera behind myself in a single button

omg skull kid's terrifying head-bobble

and the sound of the deku scrubs ecjoing

the blurred camera

i take it back this is terrifying

... for a zelda game

ON THE OTHER HAND, BECAUSE IT IS A ZELDA GAME, IT IS ONLY -SO- TERRIFYING

BECAUSE YOU HAVE BEEN TURNED INTO THE CUTEST CREATURE ON EARTH

A LITTLE SHRUBBERY GIJINKA WITH A FUNNY HAT AND A KILT

WHO PIROUETTES ACROSS STILL WATER AND BLOWS BUBBLES AT HIS ENEMIES

my heart!!!

i agree skull kid it is a good look for him

i disagree that he will be here forever

have you met him

he's the hero of time

even as tatl's dialogue is rude and aggressive she sounds (literally) just like navi, her little excited and sad and exploratory noises

(have i ever decided for myself what is inside a fairy's light sphere? no)

(do i think about what must be going on in link's head when tatl says "why are you looking at me like that," the shock and hope and longing)

i really want to know what... place they are in, during this transition, where worlds have been/are being crossed but also someone has taken the time to paint the walls with murals of flowers blooming, and the ceiling with yellow diamonds, and the doors erupting with scarlet flames

UGH I LOVE BEING DEKU LINK WHAT A CUTIE

THE CUTEST MCCUTERSON TO EVER CUTE

(pulling on my tp-link-is-oot-link theory, i can easily read tatl as practice for midna, and how link just... rolls with the punches of the latest selfish bossy violent girl to fall into his life)

n64 zelda sounds ;____;

OH NO THE PETRIFIED STUMP ;___________________;

the worst ;________________________________________;

THE FIRST RESOUNDING SLOW MUSIC OF THE SONG OF HEALING AND THE CLOCKWORKS

FUCK I'M SO GLAD I'M PLAYING THIS AGAIN

remind me to tell y'all about the "song of endings" please

a move they tried again, with greater success, in TP - beginning with your vision very narrow, literally climbing up from the depths of confusion and decay until you are finally high and out and able to see where you are

i like the moss growing on everything too, it's such a nice touch

this is what i'm saying, every square inch of termina is carved and painted, they stacked layers and layers of patterns onto the same polygon shapes they used for oot and it's so neat, i love heavily-textured and decorated worlds

i've spent a few minutes now looking at the symbol painted on the inside of the clock tower door, and i can't parse it - three green shapes in the midst of red curlicues? maybe it's nothing, but if it has a meaning i want to know what it is

(by the way it has become wine o'clock as i type all this up so be warned)

THERE IT IS

YOU'VE MET WITH A TERRIBLE FATE

HAVEN'T YOU

okay yeah it's overplayed now but that line is just. so good.

and tatl immediately hides from him

SO THE THING IS (yeah you can tell i have wine the capslock is staying on) HE SAYS RIGHT OUT THAT HE OWNS THE HAPPY MASK SHOP, AS IN, THE HAPPY MASK SHOP IN HYYRULE CASTLETOWN

DOES HE KNOW YOU??? IS THE HAPPY MASK SHOP TRANSCENDING TIME AND SPACE???

WHAT DO YOU KNOW HAPPY MASK SALESMAN??????

one of the weirdest possible options for them to have picked as a Recurring NPC for these games, what was going on here

(in my head this is... basically garfield the deals warlock as well)

aaaaaaaugh the abrupt jump cuts in this scene are so effectively unsettling

"I can help you," he says, while immediately behind his head, on his pack hands a mask of a screaming human face lest you get too comfortable

i missed everyone having pointy ears in the N64 zelda games! in ww and even tp it's a lot less common, no longer a given. but an integral part of the zelda world to me was always the hylians with their long ears and the gerudo with their round ones, and that transcendentally racist bit of lore that hylians were better able to hear the gods because of their ears.

my heart racing as i stand before the doors

about to enter termina

about to start that clock running

here we go

[studioserra]

Fine Art Photography: What It is and How to Do It

What is fine art photography? How to create fine art photography? Who buys fine art photography? What is considered fine art photography? These are all common questions that people have about the fine art photography space.

One might wonder why it’s important to understand what fine art photography is.

As photography has become more accessible to more people - which is a good thing - more and more people are calling themselves fine art photographers, even if they aren’t - which is a bad thing.

That being the case, it’s necessary for us all to know what makes fine art photography and how it’s different from normal photo-taking.

What is Fine Art Photography?

To be honest, answering the question, “what is fine art photography?” is a lot more difficult than one might think. After all, fine art photography is art, and art is subjective, so how can we define it?

It covers a lot of ground, too, from fine art nude photography to the popular Disney fine art photography to fine art wedding photography and fine art portrait photography. The spectrum it covers is quite vast, so, again, that makes it hard to define it.

But, if we’re in a situation in which our lives depend on a fine art photography definition, here you go:

Fine art photography is about the artist and their interpretation of the scene. The camera is merely a tool to create art - it’s not about what the camera sees, but is instead about what the artist wants to make of the scene.

In other words, where a photojournalist uses their camera to record an accurate representation of their subject, a fine art photographer isn’t necessarily interested in portraying the subject with any accuracy whatsoever.

Instead, a fine art photographer’s camera is used to create art - a piece that expresses the artist's unique vision and aesthetic.

Ansel Adams perhaps said it best when he said, “Art implies control of reality, for reality itself possesses no sense of the aesthetic. Photography becomes art when certain controls are applied.”

So, fine art photography is more about a photographer’s feelings and vision for a subject than the literal representation of that subject.

Fine Art Photography Ideas

Now that we have a working definition of fine art photography, let’s explore some of the underlying ideas that make a photograph fine art.

The Photographer’s Purpose

Fine art is all about the photographer’s purpose - the central emotion, feeling, idea, or message they want to convey with their image.

The purpose of the photo can be virtually anything, from a small concept like “alone in the dark” to a broad-based idea like “what freedom means.”

Think of the photographer’s purpose as a hypothesis - it’s the starting point of their experimentation with their camera.

The Photographer’s Techniques

Fine art photography does not have to stand in isolation. That is, fine art pieces are often part of a series.

To create a cohesive series, you need both a central purpose and common techniques. This might mean you utilize long exposures in each photograph, convert each one to black and white, or incorporate certain elements (i.e., the color red, a windmill, or human forms) into each photo. You might also use the same medium (i.e., printing on canvas) to give the collection consistency.

The Photographer’s Artist's statement

Often, fine art photography needs to have an artist's statment  from the photographer, that way their purpose is clear to the audience.

This artist's statment needn’t be a novel - just a short statement of what the photo is of, how you made it, and the purpose behind it - so viewers have a better understanding of your perspective and intentions with the photograph.

Common Types of Fine Art Photography

The ideas noted above can be applied in a wide range of photographic pursuits. Let’s look at a few of the most common types of fine art photography.

Black and White Fine Art Photography

Perhaps more than any other kind of fine art photography, black and white fine art photography is all about focusing on an emotion, portraying it effectively, and evoking that emotion in the viewer.

To do so, you have to strive to find ways to express that emotion in ways that go beyond color - if the emotion you wish to convey is love, don’t rely on using red; instead, consider ways that you can provoke that emotion in the absence of color.

Symbolism is often used in black and white photography to accomplish this.

In the image above, the frantic feeling one gets by inspecting this image is achieved by using light and dark as symbols of good and evil, pulling the girl in two opposing directions.

Use contrast, textures, patterns, and shapes to create interest in your shot in the absence of color. Doing so often present opportunities for expressing two diametrically opposed feelings as well, and that conflict is a fantastic subject for black and white photos.

FINE ART NUDE PHOTOGRAPHY

The human form has long been a subject of artists, and photographers are no different.

What sets fine art nude photography apart is that isn’t simply about the model being nude or even being sensual. Instead, it’s about exploring the shapes and features of the body and demonstrating their true beauty.

What’s more, this type of fine art photography is an excellent vehicle for exploring one’s inner feelings. Whether those feelings are good, bad, or otherwise, nude fine art photography literally provides a stripped down canvas upon which you can express your purpose, thoughts, and feelings in any way you wish.

Fine Art Landscape Photography

I’m a big landscape guy, so fine art landscape photography is certainly my bread and butter.

To take a normal landscape photo to the realm of fine art, you really have to focus on telling a story with the image. That is, dive deeper than what is merely seen with the lens and discover ways to build a story around what you capture with your lens.

One way of doing this is to show viewers something totally unexpected.

When one mentions “landscape photography,” the images conjured up in people’s heads are often of vast landscapes like those photographed by Ansel Adams. And if that’s what they expect, why not do the opposite?

Focus on the details of the landscape. Create a macro shot. Get your telephoto lens out and frame up a shot that highlights just one or two elements of the larger landscape.

What’s more, add elements like people or man-made objects. Doing so often helps facilitate storytelling, and it’s not something you typically see in many landscape photos.

The combination of the story and the unexpected elements can help you create fine art landscape photography with quite a visual punch.

How to Create Fine Art Photography

There are a few steps you need to take if you’re going to find success in creating photographs that are considered fine art.

How to Create Fine Art Photos: Get Your Ideas Together

I’m a sticky note kind of guy, so it makes sense for me to brainstorm ideas for a fine art photograph by using sticky notes. You can use whatever medium you want, but the important idea here is to simply get your thoughts out there in a way you can see them.

In particular, focus on considering the following:

The topic of the photo. This should be something about which you have a lot of passion!

The techniques you’ll use. Whether it’s macro, long exposure, or something in between, figure out the photography techniques required to fulfill your vision.

The message you wish to convey. The message is as important as the topic of the photo. It’s the feeling or emotion you want people to walk away with, so you need to nail that down before you press the shutter button a single time.

How to Create Fine Art Photos: Bring Your Ideas to Life

So, if I wanted to create a fine art photo, my topic might be “abandoned” using black and white conversion as a central technique.

When I think of abandoned, I think about things that are vast, empty, and perhaps downtrodden, much like the little ghost town in the photo above.

This image clearly conveys those ideas or messages. The manner in which the image is framed gives us plenty of details to inspect in the abandoned buildings, but the wide-angle view also gives us some indication of the surrounding landscape, which is both vast and empty.

How to Create Fine Art Photos: Remember It’s About Your Vision

Remember, fine art photography is all about you and your interpretation of a scene. That means there are no right or wrong answers here!

Whether you’re into fine art landscape photography or fine art black and white photography or you want to create fine art photography prints or your fine art photography is just for you, bear in mind that the images you produce are really for you and you alone. What the viewer does with your photos is up to them.

Fine Art Photography: Final Thoughts

As we’ve explored in this article, fine art photography is quite a different animal than normal photography.

This work is about you, your vision, and your technique. This type of photography is not about getting likes or shares on social media - it’s about your expression of your ideas. If people like it, great. If not, too bad for them!

Remember that this is a process and that you need to focus on more than simply what’s in front of your camera.

Define your vision, create a clear message, and convey that through your photos and your photographer’s statement. If you can do those things, you might need to learn how to make fine art photography prints and how to sell fine art photography online, because you’ll have gorgeous photos that should be shared with the world.

[spin-birdie]

who wants to have a DREADFUL time

you hear that? its the sound of me crackin my bones and blowing dust off my keyboard in preparation of posting Cringe Fics From My Fail Brain

word count: 2140

pairings: n/a

rating: explicit

additional tags: i refuse to categorise them again. phoenix gets a tentacle dildo as a joke christmas gift and then he uses it. this doesnt deserve additional tags. except for crack treated seriously. also theres a bit of choking so give this a miss if youre not into that

its under the cut but you can just read it on ao3 here

At first glance, Phoenix has no idea what he’s holding. Everyone else in the room is silent for a moment as he turns the object around in his hand, perplexed. Then three things happen in rapid succession; first, Larry laughs so sharply it sounds like he’s going to pass out from the force. Then everyone else in the room erupts into shocked laughter. Finally, Phoenix realises Larry gave him a fucking dildo for Christmas.

He drops it back into the box it came in with an indignant shout, like even touching the thing had burned his soul. He glares at Larry, who’s leaning on the arm of the couch in a futile attempt to stay upright. His laughter has dissolved into coughing and wheezing. Everyone else seems to be in a similar state, either cackling so hard they’re about to fall over or exchanging stunned, silent glances with each other.

Phoenix isn’t sure why he expected anything else from a frat house full of drunk college students.

He glances back down at the box in his lap. Then he looks back up. Then he remembers it’s been a while since he’s said anything and everyone’s still looking in his general direction. “Larry, what-- why?!”

The embarrassment in his voice just makes Larry laugh harder. The poor idiot’s face is so red Phoenix thinks for a moment he’s actually going to collapse and die right there. At this moment, he’d probably be okay with that.

Larry composes himself just enough to say something like, “You keep talking about how lonely you are, so I figured…” before breaking down again. “Ev-Everyone else got a legit gift and a joke gift, so like…”

“Huh? A joke--? This thing’s the size of my arm, Larry!”

Another bout of giggles fills the room. Phoenix can feel the tips of his ears burning. Forget Larry, at this point he’d welcome it if death wanted to claim him right this second.

He buries his face in his hands, staring down at the incriminating object between the cracks in his fingers. It looks well-made, and that might be the worst part, if only because it implies Larry spent a lot of money on a fucking prank gift. There’s a nearly metallic-looking sheen to the thing, and the swirling sandy/aqua pattern reminds Phoenix of the ocean, to his chagrin. But those traits are more or less overshadowed by the fact that it’s a fantastically crafted dildo shaped like a fucking tentacle that’s as wide as a soda can at its base and about twice as tall. Phoenix has so many more questions about this thing, but he’s sure the answers would only leave him with questions he doesn’t want answers to.

Someone else starts tearing open a present, and the crowd’s attention turns to her. Phoenix doesn’t pay as much attention as he should.

Let it go. It’s just a prank gift, Phoenix tells himself. No one expects him to use the thing. It’s that simple.

---

It should be that simple. But it’s been about a week since that party and Phoenix keeps thinking about the blue tentacle-shaped sex toy taking up space in his closet.

He looks up the price at some point, just out of curiosity. It’s fairly easy to find the online store it was bought from; the box was open when Phoenix unwrapped it, but the packaging inside was mostly intact, and there was a care guide with the store’s logo on it to boot.

He balks when he sees the base price listed as somewhere around $55, but then he realises it costs even more to increase the size. If Phoenix had to guess, Larry spent at least $100 on this thing, probably more with tax and shipping costs.

Upwards of $100 on a stupid prank gift. Sounds like a thing Larry would do.

Phoenix should probably close the tab right there, but for whatever reason, he doesn’t. He hits the back button and scrolls down the store page a little more and sees a lot of products that make even the tentacle thing look fairly tame in comparison. He knows he’s blushing harder the longer he stays on the site, and keeps thinking ‘holy shit, I didn’t really want to know that was a kink that exists’ or ‘how is that even remotely pleasurable?’ every few minutes, but he still doesn’t click off until he’s hit the bottom of the page. If anyone asks, he’ll just chalk it up to morbid curiosity.

Of course that explanation doesn’t hold up so well an hour later when Phoenix is jerking himself off in the shower, but no one needs to know about that.

---

Two weeks after the party, Phoenix takes the box out of his closet.

He almost thinks about opening it about a dozen times, but always remembers at the last moment about some chore that needs doing, or some file he needs to fill out, or that email he’s waiting for that definitely hasn’t come in the last three minutes but surely it can’t hurt to check again anyway. He knows he’s stalling. He can’t be bothered stopping himself.

Ultimately he ends up taking a shower to calm down and prepare himself for what he’s inevitably going to do this evening. It’s fine, he thinks to himself. It was an expensive gift, after all. It’d be a shame to spend that much money on something that’s going to stay in his closet forever, so why not use it just once?

Lord, Phoenix is so fucked. A statement that will be very, very literal within the hour. God.

There’s about an hour gap between Phoenix taking the box out and actually opening it. After that, he’s pretty sure he takes another ten minutes to undress since he’s too busy staring at the dildo like it’s betrayed him somehow.

At long last, he actually picks the cursed thing up for the first time in two weeks. It’s heavy and firm, yet there’s some give to it. He wraps both hands around the shaft, and there’s a good inch or so he can’t even reach and he can feel the unfamiliar texture of the suckers beneath his hands and he suddenly feels even more daunted than he was before, if that’s even possible.

Before he really knows what he’s doing, he brings the tip up to his lips and lets it rest inside his mouth. It’s warmer than Phoenix expects, the weight against his tongue unusually comforting. He can feel the suckers lining the underside of the tentacle, the silicone yielding when he presses his teeth against it lightly. A low, needy sound escapes him and he pulls his mouth away. There’s an unpleasantly clinical aftertaste, which is the only thing that reminds Phoenix he should probably wash the damn thing before doing anything else with it.

(Washing it does give him a chance to get more acclimated to the texture, even if he can’t stop thinking about what it will feel like inside him.)

He’s not sure how long he’s been at half-mast, but once he’s lying in bed and actually takes himself in hand he’s completely hard and leaking precum in a matter of minutes. Fortunately, he’s a little too far gone to be embarrassed about it. He gets worryingly close to the edge before he remembers his real goal and moves his hand up to rest on his stomach instead. He looks down at the toy next to him and swallows thickly.

No turning back now.

He’s not sure how much lube to use on a toy with this much texture, so he uses more than what’s probably necessary. He spreads his legs, starts stroking himself slowly and takes a sharp breath when the tip of the toy nudges his perineum before settling in front of his entrance.

The toy slips in with less resistance than Phoenix expects, though he’s still glad he prepped in the shower earlier. He shivers, bearing down against it as it fills him up. At first it doesn’t feel like much; not bad, not mindblowing. It does remind Phoenix how long it’s been since he had anything to fill him besides his fingers and the one vibrator he lost the remote for.

A little more of the toy slides in, and Phoenix’s breath catches when he feels the suckers. He swears they feel even more pronounced than they did before. Phoenix clenches around the dildo, squeezes his own dick, tries to remember how to breathe evenly. He doesn’t know how full he actually is. He’s certain he’s not going to take the whole thing because that would be really fucking ambitious even for him, but…

He adjusts his grip on the dildo, pulls it out a bit, pushes it back in even further--

“Oh-- Fuck--!”

He knew there was a bit of a curve to it, but christ does it make a difference when he changes the angle and the tip of the tentacle nudges against his prostate a bit too hard and it feels like someone just set off a firecracker behind his navel and it’s just on the wrong side of painful. He has to stop and breathe again before he chases the feeling.

Before he knows it he’s rocking his hips until he finds the angle again and the tip catches his prostate again and it’s uncomfortable for a few seconds and then it’s not and, and…

Phoenix keens high in the back of his throat, throwing his head back against his pillow in a needless effort to muffle himself. It’s almost scary how fast he starts to unravel after that. His legs shake uncontrollably, he’s rocking against the toy, losing himself to the delicious pressure against his prostate and the sensation of being filled up more and more, and every time he remembers he’s fucking himself on a fucking tentacle he almost breaks apart entirely. The hand that isn’t guiding the toy around can’t stay still, moving to wrap around Phoenix’s straining cock or dig into the sheets beside his head or press down on his stomach or flick across his nipples.

It’s so much. It’s almost too much but Phoenix would rather die than stop moving. He’s not sure how much of the tentacle has worked its way inside him. His whole body trembles at the thought. He knows he’s panting at this point, vaguely aware he’s whispering to himself, but fuck if he has a clue what he’s actually saying.

He thinks he’s close. Scratch that, he’s very fucking close all of a sudden; it’s like a switch was flipped and Phoenix is hyper-aware of his body. The mounting pressure just under his navel, the ache in his legs from being tense for so long, the pain in his wrist. His body feels like a live wire. He just needs one more push and he’ll fall off the edge completely.

Phoenix lets go of the toy with a sigh, pushes himself further up the bed. He cants his hips until he feels the tentacle shift inside him just hard enough that he throws his head back with a gasp.

He’s not quite riding it, and it’s a little harder to keep a steady pace from this angle, but it leaves both his hands free. He reaches for himself again and strokes himself hard and slow, squeezing the head on every upstroke in that way that leaves him gasping for breath. His other hand rests against his throat, fingers pressing against the arteries on either side until he’s even more lightheaded.

His tongue feels heavy and useless, his entire body is convulsing, right there on the precipice and it’s too much, not enough, too much, too good--

He thinks he might actually die when he comes. It’s hard to say. It’s one of those full-body orgasms; something that saps all the energy out of him and concentrates it into raw pleasure that spreads through every inch of his body until he’s left boneless, exhausted, and pleasantly numb.

Phoenix barely moves for the next few minutes. It’s all he can do to lie still and catch his breath as he winds down from easily the biggest orgasm he’s had in months.

When he does try to move, he realises with a start the dildo is inside him, nestled against his prostate and abrading his raw nerves as cum dries on his chest and stomach. He shivers with a near-silent moan as he pulls the toy out, leaving him empty and wanting.

He tosses the dildo aside and lies back against the bed with a groan. He knows he needs to clean up sooner or later…but there’s no reason it can’t be later.

Phoenix would never admit it to a single living soul, but he thinks he’s just found a new favorite toy.

[garmentdesignstudio-blog]

Garments Designing In IndiaDefinition of garment: What is garment? It is a common question for many people. Actually a garment is a piece of clothing which is manufactured by fabric or textile materials for protecting human body and decorated purpose. These materials can be natural, cellulose andsynthetic fibers. There are many types of garments like woven or knitted with different names and uses. Garments can both metaphorically and literally bear the imprint of its wearers as objects that have been worn, carried or used to adorn, their persons. Classification of Garments: Garments could be classified based on several aspects as there is no standard classification system available. However, the garments could be classified based on the gender as male or female, or age as children’s garments. Generally, based on use,style and material, different varieties of garments show different styles. Garments Pattern Making MethodsPattern Making Pattern making is a highly skilled technique which calls for technical ability, and a sensitivity to interpret a design with a practical understanding of garment construction. For successful dress designing pattern making forms the fundamental step. This function connects design to production by producing paper templates for all components such as cloth, hemming, fusible etc. which have to be cut for completing a specific garment. Pattern making is an art. It is the art of manipulating and shaping a flat piece of fabric to conform to one or more curves of the human figure. Pattern making is a bridge function between design and production. A sketch can be turned into a garment via a pattern which interprets the design in the form of the garment components. A pattern is flat while the body is not. The body has height, width and depth. Within this roughly cylindrical framework there are a series of secondary curves and bulges, which are of concern to the pattern maker. Darts are the basis of all pattern making. They convert the flat piece of cloth into a three dimensional form, which fits the bulges of the body. A pattern maker typically makes a pattern from a flat sketch with measurements or a two dimensional fashion illustration. The basic pattern is the very foundation upon which pattern making, fit and design are based. The basic pattern is the starting point for flat pattern designing. It is a simple pattern that fits the body with just enough ease for movement and comfort. Methods of Pattern Making Pattern making involves three methods- 1.    Drafting2.    Draping3.    Flat paper pattern making 01. Drafting: It involves measurements derived from sizing systems or accurate measurements taken on a person, dress or body form. Measurements for chest, waist, hip and so on, and ease allowances are marked on paper and construction lines are drawn to complete the pattern. Drafting is used to create basic, foundation or design patterns. MEASUREMENTS Bust – measure just under the arms around the fullest part of chest. Waist – measure around narrowest part of torso. High Hip – measure 6 inches [15.5 cm] below waist around the hips. Back-waist length – measure from nape of neck to waist level Shoulder length – measure shoulder from ball socket to side of neck. Armhole depth – measure from nape of neck to under arm level. Back width – measure from armhole to armhole across shoulder blades. Neck – measure around base of neck. Tools use for Drafting A: Tape Measure This is likely something you already have in your stash, because if you have been making clothing you should have been measuring your body along the way! If not, pick up a good quality fiberglass tape measure today so you can start your pattern making off right with correct body measurements. B: Seam Ripper Like the tape measure, you probably have a seam ripper. You will use this in pattern making for taking out your basting stitches when you move from the muslin fitting to the pattern drafting stage. C: Fine Point Sharpie Marker Muslin versions are always ugly because they are marked up, but you want to make your markings with a permanent and fine point. I like these push-button fine point sharpie pens as the cap always seems to get lost in my studio! These are quick and easy to use. D: Tracing Wheel To take your markings from the muslin stage to the pattern making stage, this tool will pierce through the paper and leave behind marks to draft with a mechanical pencil. E: Rotary Cutter I like using my rotary cutter for the big broad strokes of cutting muslin. Make sure to use a cutting mat beneath your item to protect the cutting surface of the table underneath! F: Fabric Scissors Sharp, high-quality scissors are used for all your fabric cutting in sewing and patternmaking. These will shape the muslin down to the proper size after you have cut it big and broad with the rotary cutter. G: Tracing Paper I personally do not use this, but many designers like it for leaving marks behind on their muslins. I like a sharpie or tracing wheel, but try these sheets out and perhaps you will love them! Many people do. H: Scotch Tape It is inevitable that you will need to tape pattern pieces together and I find that basic Scotch tape is the best for this. I: Clear Rulers Having a variety of clear rulers in different shapes and sizes is essential in your kit for pattern making. I like having a little one for marking in tiny areas, long ones for making marks for pin tucks, side seam lines, and other parts of the pattern making process that call for something longer than average. I also have a quilting square with diagonal lines for helping square up corners and creating angles. J: Right Angle This is also a huge help in creating perfect 90 degree angles on your pattern. These are also available in clear plastic, which mostpeople prefer. I have had this black one since art school and still use it. K: Curved Rulers To shape arm holes, hip curves, hems and other lines that are not straight in pattern making, it is essential that you have a few different curved rulers to get the proper slope in your pattern. 

https://www.garmentdesignstudio.info/garment-design-studio/garments-designing-in-india/