#an elaborate excuse to get a stitch regulator
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florad0ra · 6 months ago
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Finally finished with these!! I set out one afternoon to make some little textile crafts to use as playlist covers for trolls OCs, and then two months later I have 3 big fabric collage pieces 😅 Details and more photos under the cut
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Ive been itching to try fabric collage for a while so this was a great excuse to start lol! These are about 25" each, although I still need to square up and bind them.
Rosé has a meander stitch in iridescent thread all over her to convey the glitter; I had initially done a pink tulle overlay along with metallic thread, but I found a lot of the collaging and details were lost in all the material. I really like how the stitching came out on Viv in particular, especially her lashes.
And lineup of them all together! They were gonna be on one panel but I was struggling with placement lol, separate pieces it is
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sass-and-suspenders · 6 years ago
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The Patron Saint of Discounted Candy
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GIF from big-brass-ego-deactivated201812
Pairing: Dr. Frederick Chilton x Reader
Words: 1,647
Author’s Note: This was based on a post by @somethingstately (but with a different ending because I have a soft spot for Chilton)
Frederick sighed as he walked down the grocery store aisle. Another Valentine’s Day had come and gone and, as usual, he had spent the day alone. His annual February 15th tradition of buying discounted candy and eating it alone on his couch in a fit of self-loathing was becoming hazardous for his mental health, not to mention his waistline.
As he made his way towards the colourful heart-shaped boxes, Frederick tried to avoid stepping on any of the rose petals, half-crushed candy hearts, and ribbons scattered across the aisle floor. No doubt these were the remnants of yesterday’s lovers and spouses frantically buying last-minute gifts on their way home from work. 
Frederick scoffed at the thought. If he was fortunate enough to be in a relationship on Valentine’s Day, he would certainly not leave anything to the last minute. No, plans would have been made months in advance; ordering his partner’s favourite flowers, making reservations at a Michelin-starred restaurant, buying countless gifts to spoil his partner with throughout the day. He would do everything to make certain his partner felt loved.
His thoughts turned to the only time he came close to spending Valentine’s Day with someone. It was during his second year of residency when he had been dating a cardiology resident. Full of excitement at the prospect of spending Valentine’s Day as a couple, he planned the perfect evening: dinner at the restaurant where they had their first date, tickets to see Swan Lake, and then back to his apartment which he would elaborately decorate with candles and flowers.
Except, on the evening before Valentine’s, Frederick had stumbled upon his partner with someone else in an on-call room. While the cheating broke his heart, it was the look on his partner’s face that had shattered it. She looked at him as if he was just a stranger who had entered the room. As if he was an annoyance. As if he meant nothing.
Frederick had spent the next three days holed up in his apartment, eating discounted chocolate and trying to drink to the point where he could appreciate the irony of a cardiologist breaking his heart.
Shaking off these unhappy memories, Frederick scanned the shelves for his preferred post-Valentine’s Day chocolates. Unfortunately, he had arrived at the store too late. The shelves had already been picked over, with only a smattering of sad-looking stuffed animals and the chocolate that tasted as if its main ingredient was sawdust remaining.
As Frederick turned to leave, resigned to his usual fate of eating dinner alone in front of the television, he spotted a lone heart-shaped box of his usual chocolate peaking out from the highest shelf.
Reaching for it, Frederick felt the pull of the stitches that now sullied his abdomen. He lowered his arm and scowled. No employee was in sight nor was a step stool. Pursing his lips, Frederick mulled over his options.
He could forget about the chocolate, but he desperately needed a win today.
He could go find an employee, but that would leave the chocolate open for someone else to take it.
He could step on the lowest shelf for a height boost, but the shelves did not look stable enough to support the weight of an adult male, particularly one whose clothes had been fitting a bit too snug lately.
He hated that he had been reduced to this -a man who was spending more time and energy than one should on obtaining a discounted box of chocolate.
A man who was missing a kidney.
A man who needed a cane.
However, Frederick realized that his cane would be useful in this situation. It was a crude solution, using his cane to knock the box off of the shelf, but it would do the trick. Though, on his first attempt, the only thing Frederick managed to knock over was a teddy bear.
Cursing under his breath, Frederick gingerly bent down to retrieve the fallen bear. As his fingers skimmed its plush fur, he noticed stuffing seeping out of a small hole in the bear’s stomach. Upon the realization, Frederick let out a bark of bitter laughter. Clearly, the universe was playing yet another cruel joke on him.
And, to pour salt on his literal wound, someone was about to grab his box of chocolate.
“That’s mine,” Frederick snapped at the offender.
“Excuse me?” You turned your head to face the man who spoke.
Frederick straightened, the teddy bear still clutched in his hand, and gestured towards the obnoxiously large heart-shaped box now in your possession. “That’s my chocolate.”
Your initial reaction was to assume the man was joking, but the expression on his face told you otherwise.
“Right, and that was made so clear by the chocolate being up there on the shelf and you being a foot away staring intently at a teddy bear,” you deadpanned, feeling a spark of annoyance at his sense of entitlement.
“Well, I was about to get it,” Frederick replied, suddenly feeling flustered.
“Look, I’m not going to argue with you over a box of chocolate. You can have it,” you said, holding out the box to him.
Frederick was momentarily stunned by your gesture; he was rarely on the receiving end of kindness these days.
“Thank you, but you should keep it. You did get to it first after all,” Frederick gave you a shy smile.
It was that small, almost hesitant, smile that made you reconsider your first impression of him.
“How about we flip a coin for it?” You suggested and Frederick nodded.
“Heads or tails?” He asked, reaching for a coin in his pocket.
“Tails.”
Frederick tossed the coin and both of you watched it somersault in the air a few times before Frederick caught it. Opening his hand slightly, Frederick saw George Washington’s profile staring back at him.
“Well?” You prompted, unable to see the outcome from where you were standing.
“Tails, definitely tails,” he lied, slipping the coin into his pocket.
You held his gaze for a moment and Frederick was worried you could see through his ruse.
“That’s lucky,” you finally said, allowing Frederick to let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. “At least you’re not leaving empty-handed.”
Frederick’s brow furrowed in confusion.
“The bear?” You pointed to the stuffed animal he was still holding.
“Oh, no, this,” He stammered, a blush creeping up his cheeks. “I was just picking it up off the floor.”
“That’s too bad -it’s a cute bear.”
“He’s also damaged,” Frederick pointed out, showing you the gash in the bear’s chest.
“All the more reason why he needs a good home. Besides,” you added, studying the bear. “He’s definitely fixable.”
Frederick fiddled with the bear for a few seconds before speaking again. “Perhaps you should take him as well.”
“Are you sure?”
“Completely.”
“Okay, but then you take the chocolate.”
Frederick was opening his mouth to protest, but you cut him off.
“It’s not fair if I get the chocolate and the bear. Besides, the only chocolate left is the kind that tastes like sawdust and I can’t in good conscious let you buy that.”
“Alright,” Frederick consented, feeling a frisson of excitement as your fingers brushed his when you exchanged the items.
“I promise to take good care of the bear.”
“I don’t doubt that,” Frederick replied, not being able to muster the courage to look into your eyes. It certainly didn’t help that you managed to look lovely even in this dreadful supermarket lighting.
Sensing that the conversation had nearly run its course, Frederick blurted out the first thing that came to mind in a desperate attempt to remain in your company a few moments longer.
“Did you know that the origins of Valentine’s Day can be traced back to a Roman fertility festival called Lupercalia?”
Oh my God, I am such an idiot, he thought, wanting to fling himself into the sun. He swore he could even feel the judgmental stares of the rejected Valentine’s Day stuffed animals on his back. At least he’d had enough sense not to go into detail about what the festival involved. He couldn’t remember anyone making him feel this nervous before.
But instead of finding his rambling annoying, as the tiny voice in the back of his mind told him you would, you smiled at him.
“And yet everyone thinks that Valentine’s Day is a conspiracy invented by Hallmark and chocolate companies.”
Frederick grinned at your joke. He desperately wanted to ask for your phone number but he could feel the tiny voice in the back of his mind growing louder, telling him not to be ridiculous. Someone like you must certainly be in a relationship and, if by some miracle you weren’t, why would you ever want to be with him?
As if sensing his thoughts and deciding to take matters into your own hands, you plucked a heavily discounted box of Peppa Pig valentines off of the shelf and, after taking one of the many pens from your bag, began to write your name and number on one of the cards.
“In case you ever want to visit the bear,” you explained, handing the card over to the man in front of you. “Oh, don’t worry, I’m going to pay for these cards,” you added, mistakenly attributing the shock on Frederick’s face to your blatant disregard of store regulations.
Frederick fought the urge to pinch himself and delicately accepted the card. He would later tell you that your small action was responsible for dividing his life into before and after.
With that you said your goodbyes, remarking that you (and the bear) hoped to hear from him soon.
Watching your retreating figure, Frederick said a silent prayer of thanks. While St. Valentine might have abandoned him, his prayers had certainly been heard by the patron saint of discounted candy.
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