#maybe I can tailor it? I know how to sew

[scramratz]

NOW I HAVE THE OPPOSITE PROBLEM BINDERS TOO BIG AGGHHH

[weaselle]

i am convinced that human evolution and development was centered around the basic up-grade from "i steal your resources" to "i steal your behaviors and concepts"

We got clever enough and we just started copying absolutely everything we observed just because now we could figure out how to copy concepts and things that other animals were doing

see that squirrel hoarding acorns for the winter? we can do that. okay now how do we make these acorns edible, cause they are poisonous to a number of animals and we don't do great with them either. What if you put them in the fire? or just on hot coals? what if you put them in water on hot coals and boil them? Oh if you soak them in cold water for 24 hours and maybe change the water a couple times you can totally eat them? YOINK storing acorns for winter is our idea now.

or, you ever seen a weaver bird do it's thing? if not i'll give you one guess what they do

or how about the tailor bird that uses spider silk to stitch the edges of a big leaf together to make a nest in

or sometimes they'll stitch a bunch of leaves into a little cup for a nest

like i'm not trying to downplay how clever it is to be the first humans to weave or sew, and indeed, being the first person to weave that anyone knew about probably happened many times throughout human existence but my conceit is that most if not all of those times was a human seeing something in nature that was basically weaving and going "i'ma do that, and get real good at it - i'ma take that concept and really make it mine"

like it wouldn't surprise me if humans got dogs because we saw how ravens were treating wolves and went "shit yeah, great idea - YOINK that's my idea now."

most of the things that we think of as special human skill or behavior can actually be found elsewhere throughout nature -- all over there are animals using tools, farming, ranching, building, etc.

my favorite primate behavioralist anecdote is a group of people studying tool use in chimps were spending their days in the bush logging the use of twigs to catch termites, and over the campfire at night they're like "it's so boring i wish they'd do something more impressive than this completely basic tool skill."

and one of them was like "actually... how do we know its not a difficult skill? has anyone tried to use a twig to catch termites and see?" and so the next day, like good little scientists, they went out and recorded their attempts at catching termites with twigs.

And lo and behold out of the whole group and all their attempts that day, only, like, a single termite was caught by a human, mostly by chance. Suddenly the whole situation flipped - they'd been thinking of it as basic unskilled tool use, but actually the chimps knew how to do something that none of them could easily figure out on their own - or even together as a group!

y'all, they had to go back to watching the chimps do it to figure out how. Think about that. University degrees, scientific minds, educated people... and they had to be taught how by the chimps.

It turns out there's a reason that young chimps will spend like a year closely studying how an adult is fishing for termites. You gotta select the right kind of twig or leaf stem, maybe you fray the end like a paint brush depending on particulars, you gotta have just the right poking and little shaking technique to provoke the termites into biting the twig, it's a whole thing. There's even regional/cultural differences in the general approach to termite fishing that are distinct between groups that live in different areas.

Now, wild chimps have been observed using objects as tools to fashion crude spears for hunting (it's the mothers doing it by the way, and slowly some of their kids have been growing up doing it, which will probably result in refinements and developments eventually.

ants do both farming and ranching. For real. Some species of ant grow a fungus they eat AND it's a domesticated fungus, like our corn, it can't actually reproduce and survive in the wild without the ants farming it. They maintain its growing conditions and feed it leaf litter mulch, and the fungus produces some kind of ant food idk i forget the details about that. But that's farming. They are farming a domesticated mushroom, basically. And other species of ant will maintain a herd of aphids; they'll move them from grazing area to grazing area, and protect them from predators, and they "milk" them for a liquid food substance and also every now and then they straight up eat one. That's ranching.

beavers sometimes have muskrat... tenants? pets? The muskrats low key pay rent by changing out the reed bedding they all use, and they live in the beaver's lodge with them and eat some of the food. So. idk

Some Tarantulas keep frogs as pets

anyway my point is, i think the true human skill that sets us apart is our ability deconstruct and reconstruct anything we see into something that is for us. Oh, you eat that? Now WE eat that. You have the perfect teeth to drill little holes in specific tree trunks to let the sap ooze out and eat it because it's high in sugar? We don't have those teeth but we're gonna do that now and if we can't figure out a tool that's as good as your teeth at it, watch out, because we will absolutely just also steal your fuckin teeth.

[vincentbriggs]

Do you need a sewing machine to start making shirts and vests? Is hand sewing an option worth considering, or should I invest in a machine, in your opinion?

That's really a matter of personal preference!

Do you need a machine? Absolutely not! Every garment ever made before the 1840's was sewn by hand, and a lot of them after that too. I've sewn many garments completely by hand, including the early 18th century tiddy-out-violinist shirt, these bright orange breeches, and this green waistcoat.

Is it nice to have a machine? I think so, but again, individual opinions vary!

One of the costumers I follow sews everything 100% by hand because she finds it meditative and isn't interested in using a machine at all. Some people hate hand sewing and prefer to do everything by machine, with maybe a bit of hand finishing if they absolutely can't avoid it.

I do about a 50/50 split overall, maybe skewing a bit more towards hand sewing. I like to do pants, shirts, and nightgowns mostly by machine with some hand finishing, but for jackets and waistcoats I usually do considerably more hand sewing than machine, because I like 18th century tailoring techniques and think they give a nicer looking result. I do most of my buttonholes by hand, or I do them by machine first and then cover them in hand stitching.

Most people who sew do at least some of it by machine, but again, I don't know which way you prefer to work, so I'd suggest trying out both to see how you feel abut them.

For hand sewing, I suspect a lot of people hate it because they're using shitty needles and/or shitty thread, and perhaps haven't found good resources for hand sewing techniques.

Here's a post of hand sewing advice that I found quite helpful a decade ago. Use good needles because the eyes of the cheap ones have jagged edges and will ruin your thread! Use nice thread because the wrong kind will be twisty and tangly and will fray more!

Thimbles are good and useful, and typically they go on the middle finger of your dominant hand, and you use them to push the needle. I prefer metal thimbles and dislike using leather ones, but some people prefer the leather ones, or rubber ones.

The metal ones come in sizes, and I don't know how to find out your size aside from trying them on in person, but I know I'm a size 11.

One very important thing is that if you're hand sewing a garment, look for hand sewing specific instructions on how to do the construction techniques you're going for. A lot of the time when someone nowadays is trying to figure out how to hand sew a thing they'll just try and copy the machine sewn version, and a lot of the time that's inefficient and more difficult and the result looks worse, because machines and hands work very differently!

This is something I'm going to briefly discuss in the outro to the very long shirt video I'm working on, because it's so very common, and I've done it too! On several of my earlier hand sewn shirts I didn't know to turn the edge in on the front slit and do a little narrow hem, so I instead sewed on a facing for the front slit and cut and turned it, just like I'd seen on machine sewn shirts. This made it about 3x more time consuming, and the result was much bulkier and looked worse.

I've got so many more things to say about sewing but it's almost bedtime and I don't want to make this post too long.

For machine sewing, again there's a lot of personal choice. Some people like newer machines, some people like vintage or antique ones. I'm one of the ones who prefers solid metal vintage machines. I grew up using an old cast iron Singer, and the newer domestic machines just feel so plasticy and insubstantial to me. I'm used to ones that just do straight stitch and can also go backwards, but some people are perfectly happy with ones that can't even backstitch.

I do think that for a beginner the vintage machines are a better deal, because if you're patient and look around for a while you can snag one for really cheap at a thrift store, yard sale, facebook marketplace, etc. Also they're mostly metal and therefore harder to break.

I recently got a Pfaff (from I think the 1960's?) at an estate sale for 25 bucks. The zig zag mechanism is stuck and needs fixing, but I cleaned & oiled it up and it works just fine for regular straight stitching.

There are SO MANY online resources for how to clean, oil, and fix vintage sewing machines, especially the more popular brands, and a lot of the time cleaning & oiling is all they need. Read the manual and get an oil bottle with a nice long pointy thing so you can reach all the parts, and get some compressed air to whoosh out the fuzz. If it's old and hasn't been used in years, turn the hand wheel and observe every single place where metal rubs against metal, and Make It Greasy There.

(If you don't have the manual, you can often find those online too. I even found the service manual for my new-old Pfaff! I have the original users manual, but this one's for the people doing repairs.)

Oh this post is getting much too long! If you don't know yet if you like machine sewing, try seeing if you can use one without owning it, perhaps at a sewing class or in a makerspace. I know some libraries can loan out machines. A sewing class would probably be a good idea actually, if there are any available where you live!

Much like how you'll have a bad time hand sewing if you've got shitty supplies and no proper instructions on good techniques, you'll have a bad time machine sewing if it's not oiled well and if the tension is uneven.

There are so so very many things to learn about sewing and I hope I'm not making it sound too overwhelming, because I promise it's not if you take it one step at a time!

Also, when someone who's been sewing for a long time says "You may think you can ignore (piece of sewing advice), but actually that's bad and you will regret it", they're usually right. Oh, how I regret not learning to use a thimble years earlier than I did...

Sorry this post is so long, I hope it's helpful!

Basically, there's no one best way to sew anything, and you should try different stuff and see what works best for you, because everyone has different preferences.

[parker-likes-tea]

theres this thing i encounter a lot as a textile artist, where I'll be giving a gift/showing my latest project and people immediately decide that they will never make something like that. that maybe i figured it out but there's a limited # of people who can learn how to crochet and they just didn't make the cut. and it's kinda pissing me off. a lot of these trades are starting to fade away (death of older artists, industrialization, etc etc) and it upsets me that some people are willing to let their opportunity to make things they want to make go just because they don't know how yet. i taught myself embroidery from youtube and Pinterest. i taught myself how to sew and draft patterns and tailor. i taught myself how to follow crochet tutorials on youtube and eventually how to read the books. I'm not some blessed prophet of the gods sent with natural skills to create. (hell I'd even say im a beginner at most of the things i do, but we're getting there) and trust me there are PILES of scrap fabric and projects from when i didn't quite know what i was doing and just. fucking tried anyways. moral is. if you want to make something i swear to god you can figure it out. youtube is your best friend. books. google. people around you, people you know. just don't give up before you've even started

[ladykailitha]

The Harrington Pattern Part 3

Hello! I'm going to be posting this one straight through on Sundays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays until it's done. I've got three more chapters completed after this one. Though there maybe a small hiccup as I might finally be moving cross country. I will keep you posted.

Here we have Steve finishing up the last of the comments and he gets one visitor too many.

Part 1 Part 2

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

****

Steve was sitting at the table with Mike. He had shown him how to make the tassels and handed him the leather strips to just let him go to town.

He was putting in the metal rings in the armholes of Mike’s tunic for the tassels to be tied to.

After awhile Mike looked up from his work. “What made you get into sewing?”

Steve looked up at him and just stared at him a moment. “I about to say the most rich boy sentence in existence and if you laugh at me, I won’t finish your tunic.”

Mike raised an eyebrow and then scoffed. “Whatever, man. You don’t have to tell me.”

"I got fascinated by it,” Steve explained, “when my mom took me to a tailor to get a suit made for me for my first piano recital when I was eight."

Mike’s jaw dropped. “Seriously?”

“It was so interesting, dude,” Steve insisted. “I was more interested in it then the piano lessons.”

“Wait,” Mike said, “you play piano?” He screwed up his face confusion. “I didn’t know that.”

He shrugged. “I mean, I quit when I got to high school because it was at the same time as basketball and my dad wanted me focus on sports.”

Mike waved his hand at the tunic in Steve’s hand. “Piano wasn’t good enough for your dad, but sewing was?”

Steve barked out a bitter laugh. “There is no way in hell my parents know about this, dude.”

Mike reared back and frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I sew by hand,” Steve explained, “because there is no way in hell my mom would let me use her sewing machine.”

Mike’s frown deepened. “You did all this in secret? What the hell?”

“What would your dad say if you took up sewing?” Steve muttered darkly.

Mike blushed and ducked his head. “Probably that it was girly.”

“And yet the tailor I went to was a man,” Steve pointed out. “So how does sewing make you girly but most tailors are men make sense?” Mike just shrugged because it didn’t. “Also while we on that bullshit, why is a tailor seen as an honorable profession when a seamstress has the connotation of being associated with sex? Like what the fuck?”

Mike’s ears burned as he deeply regretted bringing it up.

“Just finish those tassels, man,” Steve huffed going back to his own work.

Mike did as he was told and bent back over his tassels.

*

All week long people were coming in and out of Steve’s house so often that Steve was startled by the knock at the door.

He was annoyed. He was literally an inch away from finishing Will’s extension and the interruption was decidedly unwelcome.

To say he was surprised when Officer Callahan was standing there looking as much if not more annoyed than he was would be an understatement.

“Uh...” Steve muttered. “How can I help you, Officer?”

“Hey, Harrington,” Callahan said with a heavy sigh, “it seems your neighbors are complaining that you’ve been having people coming and going all hours of the day and night. They think it’s been pretty suspicious.”

Steve quirked an eyebrow and Callahan huffed out a laugh.

Steve did some heavy thinking to make sure he didn’t have weed out before he said, “Nothing shading going on, I promise, Officer. Just being making costumes for the Ren Fair coming up this weekend and all my friends keep stopping by for last minute fittings.”

Both of Callahan’s eyebrows went up. “What now?”

Steve waved him in. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

Callahan looked around him, but followed Steve into the house with a half shrug.

Steve brought the police officer into the kitchen where he had been working with the aid of the natural light streaming through the big windows. On the table there was Will’s tunic with its inch of ribbon to go. There were bobbins of thread, spools of ribbon, and swaths of fabric literally covering almost every inch of the table.

“I’m just putting on the finishing touches on Will Byers’s costume,” Steve explained. “You remember Will, don’t you?” His smile was just this side of innocent.

Callahan coughed. Because of course he did. Everyone knew who Will Byers was.

“Right,” he said scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment. “I’ll be sure to pass that along. But maybe tell your friends to come during the day?”

Steve smiled brightly. “Oh of course, Officer. This is the last one I’m working on, though. And Will will be stopping by this evening.”

“You sure this is the last one?” Callahan asked, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

“Oh yes!” Steve said. “The first day of the Fair is on Thursday and we’re going all three days.”

Callahan nodded. “I’ll leave you be then.”

Steve showed him to the front door. Callahan stopped.

“Is this Fair thing any fun?” he asked nervously.

“I’d like to think so,” Steve said with a half shrug. “It’s like the State Fair, so it can get hot and dusty, but there are jousting and sword fights, little plays at night. Things like that.”

Callahan chewed on the bottom of his lip before he nodded curtly. “See ya, later, Harrington.”

“Bye, Officer!”

He slammed the door and went back to finishing the tunic.

Once he was done, he held it up to the light. You couldn’t even tell where the extra inches were. It looked seamless.

He yawned and stretched, feeling please with himself. He looked at his watch. He still had plenty of time before Mrs. Byers brought Will over for the final fitting.

So Steve wandered over to the sofa and laid down. He figured he could a few winks before then and let himself drift off to sleep.

*

Steve was woken by the sound of someone pounding on the door. He looked out the window, but it was still light out. He sat up and looked at his watch again to see that only an hour had passed.

He got up and before he could even reach the hallway whoever it was started knocking again.

“Hold your horses, man!” Steve yelled.

He threw open the door, annoyed for the second time today. But at least this time it was a far more pleasant a surprise.

“Eddie!” he greeted. “Were we hanging out today?” He didn’t think they had anything on with it being so close to the Ren Fair.

“Nope!” Eddie said with a grin. “A special delivery!”

Steve’s eyes lit up. “Holy shit! They’re ready?”

Eddie pulled out a long thin box and handed it over. Inside were two brown elf ears.

“And they’ll match?”

Eddie tilted his hand back and forth. “As close as we could without the recipient being there.”

Steve hugged him. “Thanks, man. This is going to mean a lot to Lucas.”

Eddie cleared his throat and reluctantly stepped back. “I’ve got band practice, but I wanted to drop these off so Lucas can have them before we go to the Ren Fair.”

“I appreciate it,” Steve said, his cheeks dusted pink. “I’ll see you on Thursday.”

“Yep!” Eddie said, skipping backwards and almost falling off the porch.

Steve jerked forward, but Eddie righted himself before he could fall.

“Bye.” Eddie turned around and practically ran back to his van.

Steve shook his head fondly. He went back inside, but he knew it was useless to try to nap some more. He was wide awake and maybe a little excited, too.

So he went to get make himself some dinner before Joyce and Will arrived.

*

For the third and final time that night there was a knock on Steve’s front door. At least this time he was ready for it.

He opened the door to reveal Joyce and Will. “Come on in. I just finished it up this afternoon.”

“It’s so sweet of you to do the final alterations,” Joyce said. “It really was a big help to Claudia and me, so we got together and made you brownies as a thank you.”

She shoved the plate in his hands and with her eyes dared him to refuse.

Steve would admit later that he thought about protesting until the smell of warm chocolate hit his nose.

“Oh wow,” he murmured. “They smell delightful.”

Joyce smiled. “Let’s see it then. El has been going on and on about the gold trim on her dress for days and I can’t wait to see Will’s.”

“Sure thing, Mrs. Byers,” Steve said brightly. “Follow me.” He led the way into the kitchen. “Is Nancy and Jonathan going to come to the Fair?”

Joyce and Will shared a glance behind Steve’s back.

“No,” Will said bitterly. “I even told Jonathan that he didn’t have to dress up, but he doesn’t want to go.”

Steve hummed. “Maybe once he sees how much fun you had on Thursday he’ll want to join us for Friday or Saturday.”

Will’s eyes lit up and Joyce smiled fondly at Steve.

“Perhaps,” was all she said.

They reached the kitchen and Will gasped. His tunic was a simple warm brown color but the gold trim just brightened up the whole thing and gave it a rich feel to it.

“Oh Steve, it’s beautiful,” Joyce whispered, giving Steve’s shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“Put it on, Will,” Steve instructed. “It’s going over a shirt and belted so we won’t need to check width, just length.”

Will nodded and pulled it over his head. It fell to the perfect place just over the kneecap so that when Will belted it, it would be above his knee.

“You can’t even tell inches were added,” Joyce said. “Do you like it, Will?”

“Yeah,” he replied with a huge grin. “It’s even better than I imagined. Thanks, Steve!”

He leapt on Steve to give him the biggest hug. Steve staggered back a step but caught the lankly teen and hugged him back just as fiercely.

“I’m glad you like it.”

Joyce playfully swatted her youngest son. “I can’t believe that even with me adding two inches to the hem after we measured still wasn’t enough to counteract your growth spurt!”

Will blushed. “Sorry, mom.”

She just grinned and kissed his cheek.

“Well it looks like we’re all ready to go,” Steve said with a smile. “I can’t wait for Thursday.”

Will smiled back. “Me either!”

****

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @thespaceantwhowrites @paintgonewrong @mogami13 @beelze-the-bubkiss

[telesilla]

Not gonna go out on this limb on a 25k post, but maybe it’s okay that kids today don’t know as much about using an actual computer as we do/did? Is it useful knowledge? Of course it is. So is using a sewing machine or being able to rebuild your VW with a copy of that one book every VW driver used to have. That’s not the right question—most practical knowledge is useful after all. The question should be “is it relevant to the way people live right now.” “How to Keep Your VW Alive” is a timeless fucking classic; my ex and I kept our copy long after he sold his VW. But I’m not buying a copy now because it won’t exactly help me keep my VW ID4 on the road.

And it’s funny, because I tend to read along with those posts and nod my head, because back in my day we HAD to know all that computer stuff. And then for some reason today, I remembered a conversation my mom and I had with my grandma in the mid 70s when I was a teenager. Grandma made my mom’s wedding dress. She worked at a department store doing alterations on foundation wear, which if you look at 1950s foundation wear, you’ll realize was both necessary and difficult. So she was shocked when I said most of my friends didn’t know their way around a sewing machine. “But how do you make sure your clothes fit?!” Well, Grandma, people don’t wear heavy foundation wear any more and clothes don’t need to be as tailored as they did back in the day—it’s 1975 and the only alterations I need to do is hemming my flares so they just touch the floor when I’m wearing platforms.

Now you can back up and look at the broader picture, the one that says, but your car should be repairable by you as long as you have clear instructions, and you should be able to alter your clothes or make your own, and yes, you should know how to organize the files on the desktop of your laptop. But the fact that for the most part it’s become easier and easier to just not do those things (if they can be done at all) isn’t exactly the fault of Kids Today. And it’s certainly not meeting them where they are or even trying to understand why they feel they don’t need that knowledge if, instead of looking at why they don’t have it and maybe even don’t need it, you just decry their lack of the Deep Wisdom.

[fatkish]

Hii!! If it's alright, Can I request a Muzan x Reader, Sfw, where the reader is chubby and quite insecure about her body so she pressures herself to improve herself in not only appearance and weight but in skills because she sees him as the perfect being that he is. But the pressure comes to point it's hurting herself?

Muzan x Chubby Fem Reader

You don’t really know when it started, this fixation on needing to be ‘perfect’. Perhaps it was ever since you met your current romantic partner, Muzan. Now you’re not blaming him for your current situation with yourself. It’s just hard to believe that someone as perfect and beautiful as him would ever truly love someone like you. That’s what you believe. You’re not what anyone would define as skinny, you definitely wouldn’t be able to win any beauty contest. And it’s not like you have some amazing phenomenal skill that draws attention away from your physical appearance or makes up for it.

Despite everything, you can’t help but compare yourself to Muzan. So much so, that you’ve started to eat less and less. You made smaller portions for your meals. And then you started to have less meals. You also began to workout. Jogging in place, doing pushups, anything that could possibly help you lose weight. But nothing worked. You tried your hand at various different crafts like sewing, tailoring, ceramics, etc. but each thing you tried was a flop and ended up in some kind of mess or failure. Not only were you essentially useless, you were fat. That’s what you told yourself day in and day out.

Muzan would often times be away for ‘business’, you both knew that you knew he was a demon. That’s why it never bothered you when he was away. You understood that more than likely he was away doing demon related things during his ‘business’ trips. You knew that he ate people and you were fine with it. He was astonished when you explained to him that you viewed demons as humanity’s natural predators. You explained how predator and prey relationships work in an environment and how you believe that demons are a necessary part of life, keeping the human population under control and keeping it from becoming overpopulated.

Maybe it was your peculiar way of thinking that made Muzan interested in you. But why he still is interested, you wouldn’t know. When Muzan is away, that’s when you would workout and rarely eat. He of course would send you messages via his third upper moon Akaza, telling you when he would be back or such. You had been working so hard and eating so little that it started to have adverse effects on you. You were often tired but you figured it was just that your body was getting used to the exercise. You had no idea how badly your body was being affected.

It wasn’t until Muzan came back one night and witnessed you fainting. He quickly caught your body and set your body down on your futon. Knowing medicine, the man quickly began to examine your passed out self. When you woke, you were met with those beautiful red eyes staring at you. Muzan was seated next to your futon, a book in his hand as he read, and a bowl of water next to him. You felt a damp rag on your forehead and realized you must have a fever. Muzan shut the book rather loudly and drew your attention to him.

“My dear, would you like to explain to me why you’re so fatigued and managed to catch a fever. I do believe I have explained to you how that body works and how to prevent getting sick.” Muzan spoke in a stern tone.

You clutched your blanket in your hands as you looked down at your lap. You nervously bit your lip as the love of your life, the most perfect being, stared at you awaiting your answer. Your face felt warm and your vision grew blurry as your eyes welled with tears. As the tears fell and landed in your lap, you closed your eyes.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered.

Muzan gently grabbed your chin and turned your head to look at him.

“Look at me” he said. You looked into his eyes as he gently wiped away your tears.

“Now, now, what’s with the waterworks my dear?” He spoke in that velvety voice of his.

You bit your lip as you thought about your fears and insecurities. You wanted to lie and say you were fine, but you knew that Muzan would easily see through any lie you told. So you told him the truth. You confessed to him about how little you’ve been eating and how hard you’ve been working your body. You told him about how you’ve grown insecure about your body and the thoughts that run through your head. As you confessed to him, he sat there and listened intently and gently rubbed your back. As you finished, he held a handkerchief out to you to wipe your eyes with.

After wiping your eyes, Muzan helped you lay back down and replaced the damp rag with a new one.

“My dear, you could have killed yourself, starving yourself and working yourself so hard paired with the little sleep made yourself the perfect target for illness. Your immune system was weakened considerably, making it easy for you to get sick. While I am flattered that you think me to be the perfect being, I cannot allow you to continue with this. Once you’re healthy, I will help you try to find a way to help you lose weight without hurting yourself. But no more of this foolishness, do you understand?” Muzan chided.

You nodded and closed your eyes as your tiredness took over.

“Get some rest love.” Muzan softly spoke as he continued to read.

[dresshistorynerd]

This is kind of random, but would it have been a struggle for a big busted women to wear fashionable silhouettes in the medieval era? I’ve heard some costume historians discuss that there were forms of bust support, but most of what I’ve seen pre-1500s seems like it would have been a nightmare for any ancestor with a similar bodytype to wear. Am I just from a line of women doomed to horrible back pain? (On the flip side of the situation, I’ve found corsets and stays to be rather comfortable, so that’s not a problem)

As a fellow big boob haver, I have good news for you! There were pretty good Medieval bust supporting garments and I have tested one of them.

With sturdy fabric, tailoring and lacing you can create pretty good bust support. Lacing was popularized first in 12th century in form of bliaut, and in 14th century tailoring became standard for everyday garments. I don't know how well bliaut supported the bust, but since it doesn't fit super snugly, I assume it doesn't distribute the weight of the boobs as well as tailored supporting garments and therefore isn't as supportive. I'm also not actually sure if there was proper bust supporting garments before that, I haven't looked into it. I know Romans bound their breasts with cloth wrapped around the chest, so maybe that technique continued (at least for those who especially needed it) till lacing and tailoring became a thing. For more about how supporting garments developed in Europe through history, I have a post about development of lacing, which coincides pretty well with that history from 12th century forward.

Personally I have experience with Medieval Bathhouse dress, which was used in the Germanic Central-European area roughly in 14th to 16th century. It's called the Bathhouse dress because most depictions of it are from bathhouse settings, but there's depiction also in bed chambers and other contexts, so I think it's pretty safe to assume it was used more generally as an undergarment. It often had separate cups for the boobs (see the only extant garment left of it, the so called "Lengberg Castle Bra"), but not always. Unlike most other undergarments at the time, it was sort of a shift (the lowest layer) and a supporting garment combined into one.

I sewed my own recreation of it (with some alterations because I made it for my everyday use, not as a historical recreation) and did a post about my results, where I go deeper into the history of the garment too. I didn't construct it very well and I did an error in the design of the back, which cause the strain of the shoulder straps to focus too much on very specific spots in the back panel, which eventually made the fabric there break too many times. (There were some other smaller design flaws too, like the waistline is lower than my natural waist so it rose and wrinkled annoyingly.) I did use it daily (except when I washed it) for a fairly long time though and it was super comfortable and helped a lot with back pain (and shoulder pain caused by use of modern bras). I hate that I've had to go back to modern bras because I haven't had the time to remake it yet. (I'll probably make a follow up post once I get around to it, where I go through the issues of the first version and how I addressed them in the next attempt.) Well fitted and shaped bodice which is then laced does surprisingly much even without any additional reinforcements.

I haven't made a Medieval kirtle (though I will some day), but it was the more widely used Medieval supporting garment, which eventually replaced Bathhouse dress in the area where that was used. Kirtle is worn over a shift, but it broadly works similarly. Kirtles could be front, side or back laced depending on the time period and how the Kirtle was constructed. Multiple layers of kirtles could be used and looser overgarments (like houppelande) were often used on top of it. Kirtle was used by everyone, including men, but for those who didn't need bust support, it's purpose was mainly to create the fashionable silhouette. Here's three depictions of kirtles from 15th century. First unlaced, but has lacing on the front, second close up of the side lacing and third shows nicely how both front and side/backlacing shaped the bust.

Morgan Donner is a costumer, who focuses a lot on Medieval costuming and has a big bust, so while I haven't personally tested the supportiveness of kirtle, she certainly has. The kirtle bodice part needs to be patterned to accommodate the breasts by giving it round shapes and the kirtle needs to be a little too small so there's room to lace it to fit well. Lining also helps to reinforce the fabric and make it more firm and supportive. Here's Morgan's pattern from the tutorial in her website and how the kirtle eventually fits for her. (Also look at the handsome boy in his handsome matching outfit.)

She also has a video relating to the same kirtle project, where she explains her method to pattern a kirtle specifically so it's supportive for big bust.

In 16th century more stiffness was added to kirtles, first with very stiff lining and then with boning, but that doesn't necessarily add to the bust support, rather it just allows the kirtle to shape the bust and the body in general more and better support a heavy skirt. Firm fabric secured snugly with lacing is already very good at distributing the weight of the boobs to the whole torso.

In conclusion, at least since 14th century people with our body type were not doomed to eternal back pain and even before that some ways to help with it were probably used.

[amimuu]

UHM. Redesigned Lamb and Nari cuz I got bored??? (+ doodles)

Woe I don’t know what to put as a title…HAVE THIS, KABOOM!!!

Yeah we’re doing this again HAHA…(but you can actually see my outfit planning)

You see I kinda felt like my first designs were a bit rushed and I wasn’t 100% happy w/them…BUT DO NOT DISCARD THEM, The other outfits still exist. So i kinda just. Designed an extra set? Iekfjfjdj something like that yeah.

I also gave lamb a couple extra outfits:

The thing they wore when they were still a vessel (fun fact the robe is actually the first layer of the traditional wedding outfit for the culture of the Lambs….)

You may notice they look happier here. They were. Lots of hopes and all that stuff.

ANDDDDD

The fancy robe

Truth is, Lamby here absolutely adores fancy clothing. Fluffy robes with lots of layers, with little decorations hanging from the edges? Yeah. That’s their thing

They normally save this one for parties or special sermons. Also, did I mention they craft most of their clothes themselves? Their mother taught them how to sew and tailor clothes when they were young and they love it since then.

(Is that Narilamb!?)

I did sum planning on the Lamb’s weapon of choice too which is….chains?! Magical chains. Is this a metaphor of some sort? Maybe. But they look very cool using them. However they are a little reckless so they tend to hit themselves accidentally when they pull them back after each attack. Still, they are very skilled.

Someone does get a little worried tho…

But ANYWAYS!!! Hope y’all didn’t miss me too much 😔 I was planning to post something else but I already had half these doodles here lined up so I decided to post these first and the other idea later…but it’s coming soon!

As always, inbox is open and any questions are welcome! Or if you just wanna say something random that’s cool too

Until then :]!

Extra:

[nogenderbee]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ 𝔻𝕖𝕤𝕚𝕘𝕟𝕖𝕣 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕋𝕒𝕚𝕝𝕠𝕣 ₊˚ˑ༄

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ anon request: Hello! May I request Lucifer, Solomon, Barbatos, and Simeon with a s/o who's a master at textile design?

I can't help but imagine how grateful Lucifer would be if they tailored him 5 different suits.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Hii! Yeah of course! Not really sure about it, the first 2 chars at least but... I really hope you'll like it at least a little bit nonetheless!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ fluff

✧ Lucifer is indeed so so glad for your tailoring skills

✧ do you know how many suits of his are devasted because of his brothers antics and how many of his suits got holes in them because 2 of his brothers decided to cut holes in them one day?

✧ and if you agree to fix that for him, he'd be even more glad, you'll literally have his gratitude and special treatment!

✧ and he's definitely gonna try watching over his brothers to not use you too much... but then again, he'd probably be doing that himself!!

✧ the second you stop minding and asking you to sew something becomes neutral... be ready to be given those tasks more often... here curtain needs some fixing, here another cloth, here tablecloth, really anything!!

✧ he may accidentally give you too much so feel free to tell him about it! You already did enough so he'll accept it and try to not give you this much at once again

"Y/N, could I ask you to fix another suit for me? Allow me to explain... Satan and Belphie thought it was amazing idea to..."

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

✧ Barbatos is a bit similar to Lucifer... but at least more gentler and understanding

✧ trust me, he knows how having too much on your head is like so he won't ever do it to the one's he cares about

✧ he doesn't even come to you with his own clothes! He literally will ask you to sew a curtain or something and not to save money, but because event is coming and service is getting late...

✧ you'll most likely have to tell him you can handle more work because otherwise, he's a bit too scared to overwork you... especially that you're human so your limit must be way lower than his!

✧ I have a feeling like he can sew himself but sometimes just doesn't have time for it... so that's when you come in! But mostly, you'll get the "I can do it myself in free time but thank you" answer

✧ if anything, he'd be more interested in you designing textiles! It's obviously most important part, so he'll honestly have lot of respect for what you do! Even if your work doesn't match his style... he'll still support you in what you do

"I'm sorry for interrupting you but may I ask you to fix this for me? I apologize if it's too much, I can explain everything in 10 minutes... I only need to finish few tasks first."

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

✧ I feel like Solomon saw many who could sew and even tried that himself! He just never got that skill somehow and always ends up poking needle against his finger but accident... which leads to him eventually dropping whatever he was trying to sew

✧ but he can't decline it's useful skill so when he sees that his lover can do that, he's more than happy to watch you!

✧ but he does get nervous sometime that you'll also hurt yourself with a needle... which leads to him distracting you from time to time unfortunely...

✧ believe me, he has many clothes that need to be tailored but he never really had time to give that to someone or skill to do that himself! So if you notice that and offer to tailor one of his clothes... he'll pull out pile of many others... GOOD LUCK

✧ basically, he's just gonna be impressed and concerned... but if you decide to teach him... he'll be more than happy!

✧ he may actually not get it as easily as you'd want him to but a bit of more patience and he'll get it eventually

"Hey watch out! You'll hurt your-... Oh... well I guess your fingers are skilled enough to avoid it... well that's impressive... Would you mind sharing this little secret with me?"

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

✧ Simeon maybe doesn't have too much experience with simple sewing, but he seems like the kind of person who'd enjoy embroidery!

✧ and those two are close enough + he most likely can sew basic things like fixing clothes, so you actually for few topics

✧ when he discovers you're tailor and textile designer, he'd be actually more interested in second part, just because he already knows enough about first part

✧ he'd be happy to see your scratches compared to the final product or maybe even see some materials used in actual clothes if you have some

✧ it's most likely first time he sees someone doing that with so much passion so he'll definitely listen to all of your possible rambles

✧ in fact, instead of just nodding, he also asks to the questions to show you how interested he is!

✧ but like mentioned before, he can only see simple things so when he sees you seeing clothes, he's also really impressed! And most likely will ask if he can watch you work, to both learn something maybe and watch over you so you won't hurt yourself accidentally

"This is the first design? Wow... it's not even slightly similar to finished product... but it also had a potential... what if you release it but with few adjustments, since it didn't suit you in the first place? For example..."

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@vodka-glrl - come get your soft angel~

[scivors]

My genuine head canons about Eddie Gluskin that I wrote in my notes app:

I'd like to add a little disclaimer: these head canons involve some heavy topics, so, if you're not comfortable, you aren't obligated to stay.

Also, I do not support any of Eddie's actions..just to make it clear..

ANYWAYS I'VE ALWAYS WANTED TO DO THIS SO HERE WE GO

Like the idea of him being a tailor (if you don't know what that means it basically means a person whose occupation is making or altering suits, jackets, and dresses typically to fit a particular person.) He's so creative and almost patient enough to work with materials. I also like to think that's something he shares in common with his mother who must've taught him a good few things about creating and measurements..

He'll hum a little tune to himself as he's working, makes him concentrate more..

It's not always, though, sometimes he loses his patience if the sewing machine isn't cooperating like it should be..

Although his whole character is based on "love" and wanting to find a special bride who loves him just as much as he loves his bride, it's sad to say that his needs will never be fulfilled..

What I mean by this is that not only are his delusions serving him zero purpose but not only that, hurting anyone that comes across him cause he's so desperate to be loved. However, these delusions could be a result of a coping mechanism from all the trauma he went through.

It's like trying to break the generational trauma but instead making it far worse than you could imagine..

So, being severely damaged as he already is, he takes it upon himself to somehow create this little world where he has a family of his own, a beautiful wife and children.

I also like to think of him being trapped in his little cell where he has nothing but a bed and his own little imagination.., staring off into either the ceiling or some random thing and just sits there..,maybe even talking to himself or laughing..

- His mother's lack of acknowledgement for what had happened to him when he was small made him develop some sense of protective nature as a fully grown adult especially when he mentions the topic about having his own children..

- "He appears so charming and friendly" is what he wants some to believe, he cares about how he presents himself time to time..

He wants you to believe he can be good, a perfect groom, a perfect father he never had. He will show you this people pleasing, gentle, kind and loving personality before he completely switches up and becomes the opposite..

- So, about the love part. Some describe him as overly obsessive, which don't get me wrong, he is. Though, it might seem like this isn't much of a big deal to him cause he will show you every ounce of love he has and shower you with it, if you plan on giving yourself to him that is. You'd be his number one priority, you'll never feel like a choice, you are his everything.. It's always like living the dream from the very start, it'll feel like a movie in Hollywood but slowly yet surely this doesn't last how it should...

Imagine being taken care of by someone as charming and loving as he is, imagine him calling you loving words in his English accent and no I'm not just talking about "darling" , I'm talking about :

"Are you alright, my love?"

"Your virtues have so strangely taken up my thoughts.."

"I think you're stunning.."

"You look as pretty as always.."

He is old fashioned, so he will eventually take it upon himself to act like a gentleman around you, he will make the first move, gets you flowers, he plans everything since he would love spend time with you.. It's all about getting to know eachother..

You'd never have to do such work, stay at home and he will do all the providing. 50/50 chance he comes back home with some nice flowers or small gifts..,like I said, old fashioned..

His thoughts would only be you. His number one priorit would always be you. But,... it's not you?..

You're you but also you're not?..

His mind creates this character of you, it's what he's expecting from you, how you act, how you talk, how you dress, how you walk..it's what he expects from you rather accepting you for who you are. This results to a lot of guilt tripping..

And I know, it sucks, but should've thought about it that before going for a psychopathic maniac that's in an asylum for a reason..

- It's quite easy to spot this one, but one of his most common triggers is when someone makes him think they're going to abandon him.

"I can't be alone!.."

By the way, his height and his strength is actually so scary that if you do eventually try to abandon him by walking away, he'll break the door down, he'll find you, he'll do unspeakable things to either you or the furniture that's in his way of trying to get close to you

(Speaking of which: I've noticed a lot of people using the term "Yandere" for an individual with mental illness. Please, stop that..)

Outside of the asylum I like to think his sense of fashion is probably top tier old money, just casual and nice..

Probably likes taking night walks with his nice coat on. That'll keep anyone from expecting him to be a psychopath..

Originally, the man ((((COULD)))) be from England, however, his parents decided to move countries from Europe to America cause they probably liked it more that way..

Eddie is definitely those kinds of people who have that one parent that's always been treating them like shit their entire childhood but still hold a special place in their heart for them cause they don't have anyone else.. That's Eddie towards his mother, I mean, he was her son...all he had was her and deep down he believes that, there was a point she wanted to help..(Even though her absence permanently damaged him)..

But somehow..that caring nature, that charming side of him, that right there, that came from her..

[cainhart]

The symbolism of the snake embroidery on Vergil's clothes and my theories on how he might have acquired his outfit. (he's broke asf he didn't get it with money guys)

In the first Devil May Cry novel we learn that teenager Dante had his red jacket custom made. He is actually pissy about it when it gets ruined with bullet holes. He then wears a fuckass black jacket, which makes him look embarrassing.

Dante was drinking and using firearms when he was 15 or 16 years old; but he had a job (albeit his job being a MERCENARY. Also twins being European really shows because he was having drinking contests as a fucking 15 year old, god), so he had enough money to buy himself a custom made jacket. But the thing is, we don’t know how teenager Vergil got his outfit. It’s too well made to be bought in a normal store. Vergil probably had no money—though it is hinted that after Mundus' attack, young Vergil may have used public transportation (I also have a headcanon that he didn't know how to open a portal until he was at least 12 so that makes sense) and even bought himself food. These may have happened before or after the attack but let's say after the attack since Sparda, Eva, and the twins were living a secluded life. Still, being homeless and constantly on the run, his concept of the value of money is more like ‘money’ and ‘a LOT of money.’ He had no use for finance; what important was to get powerful and gain knowledge.

So, he probably didn’t get it with money. Vergil was never in one place long enough to earn money. I also don't see him as someone who would kill or hurt people to steal their money (he actually kinda did it in VoV,,, but that was different), so the idea of custom made clothing bought with human currency doesn't sit with me.

He might have used demonic magic to create his outfit. We see a demonstration of this in DMC5 with Trish, who uses her magic to literally recreate her entire outfit. This is very weird and left unexplained, which frustrates me because I need to rationalize things. Perhaps demons can do this because they can infuse anything with their demonic energy, and since the clothes they wear are made of organic material, they can recreate or even sew them back together. In Vergil's case, it's more like 'create a whole new outfit in mind's eye and boom now you have a ridiculous cravat.'

Another possibility is that he had it custom-made, but not with human currency. Demons, or at least a certain demonic/supernatural entity (the God of Time, aka the Divinity Statue), accept red orbs as a form of payment.

Vergil probably visited many places on his trauma blind journey of gaining power. I might overdo here, but what if he came across a strange tailor and they made a deal like, "You give me 70 thousand red orbs, and I give you a slutty vest, a ridiculous cravat, nice shoes and a cool coat with snake embroidery on it." and Vergil was like "Aight." Maybe he was intending to infuse his outfit with his magic anyway. It was a win-win situation.

It's funny to imagine Vergil designing his outfit, just being a teenager for once.

So, Vergil could have saved up red orbs to get a cool coat. Demonic establishments are kind of canon, so that’s a possibility. He was a teenager it’s only natural that he liked teenager things, even in his traumatized and hunted state. At a certain point in his life, he became strong enough to indulge in some of his likes.

Speaking of snake embroidery, Vergil has SO MUCH snake symbolism on him, and on his clothes too! Snakes were adored and respected throughout history before paganism started to get shitted on. Snakes represent wisdom, REBIRTH, healing, transformation, and knowledge. That’s why Satan, disguised as a snake, gave Eve the apple (knowledge) (also, knowledge of the occult was really given to women first). The snake detail on his clothes might even be magic, too. It's nearly an occult symbol on its own. Maybe a sigil? I know sigils aren't a thing in DMC but I don't care I'll go apeshit with my theories.

Whether the serpent detail was intentional or unintentional, it’s still a great detail considering his story and character. He goes through transformation (Nero Angelo), then rebirth (Vergil rebirth party in DMC5), and healing (basically the whole plot of Visions of V).

So, just teenager Vergil researching the occult and being fascinated with the symbolism of the serpent. OR he straight up stole it. :l This bitch split his demonic and human self apart and like 1 day after his human self came to existence he had to deal with money and his first thought was to steal it. Anyway, that's all. Have a good day!

[vincentbriggs]

Hello! Transfem person here. I haven't started HRT yet, but want to procure a 1730s menswear suit (actually decided based on your video). I would prefer not to wait for it if possible, since I don't know when HRT is going to be possible. I am, however, a little concerned about my bust size changing and affecting the fit of the waistcoat. Is that decade usually pretty forgiving in it's tailoring? I am also considering having the upper back tie like some later waistcoats to accommodate if necessary (even if it's not entirely historical), but I figured I would ask you.

Thank you!

Hello! Ooh yay! Not enough people do early 18th century, so I'm delighted to hear that! (Link to the 1730's suit mentioned.)

I think the fit would be affected, yeah. The sides of the waistcoat are easy enough to let out (and we have extant examples of waistcoats with an extra strip of fabric added into the side seam) but the curve of the front is pretty important to how it sits on you. But then, it is fashionable in that era to leave quite a lot of the top portion unbuttoned, so maaaybe you could get away with it not fitting as well, depending on what changed and how much?

Regarding the adjustability of waistcoats, some of the earlier ones actually do have lacing in the back! This red one is an especially nice example, and it's separate all the way to the top.

(c. 1740's, V&A) (Though you also do see ones with the back hacked up and a bunch of ties that were likely added by Victorians for their fancy dress parties.)

The breeches also have adjustable waistbands, of course, so I think the hardest part to alter would be the coat. The back vent is edge to edge, so there's no overlap to sneak a bit more width out of, and letting out the side seams would require re-doing those massive pleats, which were the part I found the most difficult when making my coat. But fortunately those coats were worn open a lot of the time, so even if they're not quite right when buttoned, they should still look ok unbuttoned.

It's very difficult to predict how the fit will be affected, since HRT is different for everyone and things keep changing years down the line. (One comment on this post talks about suddenly getting more breast and hip growth after 7, 12, and 14 years.)

I only have experience from the transmasc side of things, and alas, I very much did outgrow all my old waistcoats and coats. My 1730's suit needs alterations, because the waistcoat is a bit too small, and the coat seams could use a bit of letting out too. (I made those the year after top surgery, but my ribcage kept expanding and my posture improving for quite a while.)

I've been putting it off because alterations are boring :/ My pre-top surgery waistcoats are all way too small across the chest even though material was removed, because my posture was kinda bad and I didn't even notice it, and I expect that the opposite could also lead to the same sort of better posture from more confidence & comfort.

But bodies keep changing forever anyways, even without transitioning. Plenty of cis people can't fit into the things they sewed when they were younger, so we may as well make things to fit us now. Perhaps you could make the suit now, but use a not-too-expensive fabric, and then maybe alter it later, or make a newer and better one with the experience you gained from the first one!

Also I know you specifically said menswear suit, but I want to add the fun fact that women's riding habits in this era looked extremely similar to men's suits!

(Left: Maria Amalia von Habsburg by Franz Joseph Winter, right: Member of the Van der Mersch Family by Cornelis Troost.)

As far as I can tell, the main differences are that the riding habits have a petticoat instead of breeches, and are made to fit over stays.

(Empress Elisabeth Christine in riding costume, unknown artist.)

So similar, in fact, that this portrait of a young lady in a riding habit was misidentified as a young man!

Most of the petticoat is out of frame, but you can still see that it's not beeches, and the stays shape is pretty obvious. Very silly of Sotheby's not to notice!

I have no idea if you're interested in wearing a riding habit, and I'm not sure how difficult it would be to alter the somewhat looser men's coat to fit over stays, but thought I ought to mention it.

[thepenultimateword]

Love Thy Enemy Part 6

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five

For all Callista's talk of winning Vorrin over, it was surprising that she returned to ignoring his existence. Pins and Switch even informed him that his designated visit to her chambers had been canceled for the week. Usually, Vorrin would've been thrilled, but considering the circumstances... How was he supposed to gain the empress's trust if they didn't see each other?

"Is she busy again?" Vorrin asked as he took a bite of strawberry scone. He kept his tone bland and stared with what he hoped looked like disinterest at the wall.

"I hear she's taking a trip to the border cities," Pins mumbled, sewing needle held between his lips as he turned the half-finished embroidery in his hands. "Probably takes a lot of prep work."

Vorrin had felt rather guilty about his outburst the other day, and remembering Switch's comment about waste, he'd asked the manservants if it was possible to repair the torn shirt. The short answer was no. Nothing could get the shirt exactly back to its original state. The longer answer, with more cloth and designs to hide the stitches, the outfit could be salvaged. So here the pair were, with more work thrust upon them, though Vorrin couldn't say he wasn't grateful for the company.

Vorrin set down the scone, turning full attention to the manservant. "The border cities? Why?"

"I only caught pieces from the soldiers while fetching your dinner the other night, but I think an emissary from Avarose is meeting her there."

"An emissary?"

"She has been out of the country for almost a year now. Maybe she needs an update from Prince Suthand on the state of the kingdom?"

"An update can be sent in a letter."

"You know more about politics than us," Switch said, stacking up some of the empty breakfast plates. "Why do you think she's going?"

Vorrin pondered it a moment. Callista was calculated, and she knew her hold on Totholan was tentative. She wouldn't leave the capital unless she thought it was absolutely necessary.

Perhaps she wanted to check on the strength of the border troops. But she could outsource that to a general couldn't she?" And then there was the emissary. That would be political. But why would she need a representative from her own kingdom? And why didn't they meet her here instead of the other way around?

"I don't understand anything she does," Vorrin said finally, picking back up his scone. He only managed to nibble it a little further before asking, "When will she return?"

Switch raised a brow. "You're certainly eager to see the empress again."

"I wouldn't say eager. Simply...interested."

"Well, she hasn't left yet," Pins said. "She might still come to say goodbye."

As if Vorrin was worried about not receiving a proper farewell. He was her consort, not her lover. He forced a smile anyway. "Maybe."

Pins smiled brightly back and turned the finished tunic around for him to see. "How's this?"

A spattering of golden stars and a large sun now hid the repaired tear. They glimmered against the white fabric like the celestial bodies they were imitating.

"It’s beautiful,” Vorrin said, “it’s a wonder you were hired as a manservant rather than a tailor’s apprentice.”

Pins flushed appreciatively and lowered his eyes to the ground. “I used to do the repairs to the servants' uniforms, back before I was officially hired. My mum said I had a gift. But…apprenticeships don’t pay in money, just room and board, and my family couldn’t really live on one income so…” His face fell a bit, but as he lifted his head again, it abruptly brightened. “When I was offered this position, it paid twice the amount as a regular manservant, and I still get to do sewing, so better off for me, I say.”

Vorrin fought the frown dragging down the corners of his mouth. He knew what it was like to come from humble beginnings. Living day to day on whatever scraps he could get. Going hungry. Survival topping every other thought or desire. The main reason he'd joined the King's army as a boy was for the pay. Squires received a gold piece every month, and the stipend only grew the longer he stayed alive. Not to mention the free board in the barracks. As he’d risen in the ranks, he’d created a comfortable place for himself. Luckily, or maybe unluckily, he hadn't had any family to rely on him, so he’d only had to worry about himself. He could only imagine the pressure of supporting a family at such a young age.

“Is your mother in Totholan?”

“No, she stayed back home. But I send her half my earnings whenever any of the soldiers travel back to Avarose with the Empress's letters.”

“Which they skim,” Switch muttered.

“It’s fine,” Pins said, forcing one of his bright smiles, “I just think of it as a delivery fee.”

This time Vorrin did frown. “That is not fine. They recieve their own wages, they don’t need any of yours.” He doubted it was something Empress Callista would allow either. “I’ll speak to the Empress about it.”

Switch audibly choked.

Pins shot to his feet. “Oh, no! You don’t have to— It’s much too small a matter to bring so high as the Empress.”

Yes, Vorrin understood it was unconventional. King Duras would have imprisoned a servant for wasting his time with such a request, that is if he even allowed it to reach the level of audience, and with the state of the kingdom, Empress Callista probably would brush it off too, but…

“If she cares about me, she’ll care about you,” Vorrin said firmly.

“I don’t want her to think I’m complaining or gossiping about the soldiers. Especially not to you."

"Because you don't want to be blamed for my poisonous attitude toward all things Avarosian?"

Pins pressed his lips together, his lack of denial an admittance all its own.

“If it bothers you, I won’t tell her it’s you.”

"I...well..." Pins slowly folded the tunic over his arm and moved gingerly across the room to tuck it away in the wardrobe. "I guess its ok. If it comes up that is. And as long as it doesn't inconvenience her. If she seems put out, tell her to forget it. And don't make it seem too urgent." He cleared his throat and plucked out a new outfit, lithely changing the topic. "How about this?"

It was another set of robes, this one a couple layers, the bottom a silky vibrant gold and the top a poofed, gauzy white that muted the underlying fabric, almost like looking through fogged glass. Glimmering gold strings hung loosed off the sleeves, ready to hold each one in perfectly puffed sections."

Vorrin grimaced. Where did the empress even get all these clothes from? Had she sent for them as soon as she’d taken him hostage or had she planned for this ending in advance? From what he'd seen Pins and Switch wear, robes were not uncommon for Avarosian men, but the fancy ones in his wardrobe were on another level. Either high-class styles were different, or the empress had some tastes. Maybe a bit of both.

"Well, I was hoping to attend the training grounds today," Vorrin said. "That is if there is a soldier to escort me today."

One of the things he and the empress had agreed upon in their last conversation was that Vorrin should have more freedoms. The training grounds to practice his sparring and more visits into the city were at the top of his requests. Surprisingly, both had been granted, on the condition that he was watched at all times.

"Oh!" Pins put the garment set back and sifted around the wardrobe for something else. "Then this?"

The new outfit was two pieces, a bottom and a top, so that was at least closer to Vorrin's regular style.

The top was a black compressed shirt with the sleeves cut off mid-shoulder and silver-threaded embroidery stretching from the shirt's high throat to the middle of the chest, giving the appearance of a layered necklace. The bottoms...were a skirt. Blue. Long. Plain except for the embroidered hem in matching silver.

"Er...I can't exercise in that," Vorrin said. It was the more diplomatic reply.

"This is a sparring outfit," Pins said. "An expensive one, but still equipped for actual sparring."

"I don't see how I'm supposed to fight in that." Vorrin stepped closer and flicked the hem of the skirt. "It's too long. And constricting. I'm not going to be able to move without tripping, ripping it, or showing everyone everything."

"It's not a skirt if that's what you're worried about," Switch said, setting the stacked dishes on the breakfast tray. The young man was as sharp as ever. He marched up the proffered outfit and grabbed the hem by one side, pulling it up to show the wide trouser legs beneath. "The overskirt is for show. It's split so it doesn't get in the way. Think of it as robes for fighting. Most of the military has switched to more obvious trousers, but most generals still wear this style. I don't know if you've noticed."

Vorrin couldn't say that he had. He didn't really pay attention to what his opponents were wearing in battle, and since becoming Empress Callista's consort, he'd been mostly confined. He assumed he'd seen mostly low-level soldiers since then, but it was also possible he'd missed it, either being in too much of an angry fog to notice or assuming they were robes like any other.

"The outfit's fine," Vorrin said crisply.

"Good!" Pins said. "Then let's get you ready!"

"I'll send for a soldier to escort you," Switch said. A shadow of a grimace crossed his face, but just as quickly it was gone. Replaced by his usual straight expression. "It might take a little while, so I should go now."

"We can go together," Pins offered.

"No, no." Switch drew himself up proudly. "I'm fully capable of finding someone. And it will be more efficient this way."

With a short bow toward Vorrin, he was out the door.

Pins had Vorrin dressed within a half hour. The bottoms were much more comfortable than he'd expected. His hair had taken on a simple style today, tied up into a tail. However, Pins still managed to make the simplicity elegant by using a silver hair ring instead of a regular hair tie.

The bedroom door burst open. Switch stormed in red-faced and hair-mussed, slender hands barely catching the door before its handle could hit the wall.

"I found someone," he said, easing the door shut before sitting hard in one of the dining sets.

"What happened?" Vorrin and Pins said together.

"Nothing. Like I said. It just takes a while to find soldiers who aren't busy."

"Switch, you're shaking," Vorrin said, his voice falling into the firm tone of his old station.

Switch looked down at his trembling hands with a surprised expression.

Switch clenched them. "I'm not scared or anything. I'm just mad."

"What happened?" Vorrin pressed again, this time summoning the authority Switch responded to.

"It's just soldiers being soldiers," the manservant spat. "Being crass and difficult and idiotic as usual. I swear, this is why I dropped out of the military. They're all so stupid. But of course, they can't let it go. I'm a traitor because I didn't fight in the war and even more so because I serve a Totholi consort." Switch's tone grew sharp and sarcastic. "Apparently, it's very unpatriotic of me to be at the beck and call of a Totholi general. Oh, and I think I'm better than them because of my cushy safe job and better pay and face-to-face meetings with the Empress."

At that last part, Switch let out a little gasp and pinned his lips tightly shut.

Another time, Vorrin would have seized that slip-up. He knew that Empress Callista was getting information on his behavior from someone. His manservants had been the most likely suspects, and this confirmed it. However, this was not the time.

"I didn't know you were military," Vorrin said instead.

"Was." Switch looked steadily at the ground a couple feet ahead, clenching his fists harder so the knuckles turned white. Vorrin knew that look. He kept dry anger at the forefront of his emotions, but he was probably fighting off tears. "I only squired for a year. I hate soldiers."

"Is that why you sometimes have a hard time with me?"

Switch flushed a little and a long pause stretched over the room. "Maybe. I don't know. I guess sometimes I see the resemblance. But you're not like them. I know that. Even if you are aggravating." He cleared his throat abruptly. "Sorry."

"Did the oh-so-proper and strict Switch make a joke?" Vorrin said with a mock gasp.

Switch rolled his eyes, but a small smile crept up his face. "Don't tell anyone."

"They're just being jerks because they're jealous," Pins piped in.

Vorrin nodded. "As a once stupid soldier, I have to agree. For men like them, there is a pecking order, and they're worried you're on top. And they hate that, so they're trying to convince you that you're not."

"But I don't want to be a part of their stupid pecking order at all," Switch said.

“Then you need to find the biggest instigator and give them a good punch in the nose.”

“You are a soldier.”

Vorrin shrugged. “It’ll at least show them you’re not going to take their rubbish.”

“But it’s so unrefined…”

“And they are? They’re a bunch of insecure bottom feeders with too much space in their skulls. I’m telling you, the only thing people like that respect is brute force.”

“I’m really beginning to doubt your strategic ability as Totholan’s best general.”

Vorrin chuckled. “Well, I can always punch one for you. I doubt they’re allowed to hit me back.”

Switch let out a long sigh, though it wasn’t entirely exasperated. He scrubbed his tearless face. "I’ll think about it. Pretty sure letting the royal consort get into fights isn’t a much better look. Anyway, the escort is waiting outside when you're ready."

Vorrin stood, stretching his arms over his head. “Time for me to go then. Guess I better show this little guppy who’s really in charge. ”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t worry, Switch. I know how to handle grunts.”

“Seriously don’t.”

Vorrin only grinned, flexing one of his bare arms before sweeping out the door.

As he stepped out into the hall, the soldier leaning against the outside wall stood up straight. He was about what Vorrin had expected: young, a little below average height, and built just enough to have real muscle but still feel uncomfortable in his own skin. Vorrin could see the inexperience in his shifting posture.

“Good morning, Royal Consort,” the soldier said offering a short bow. Obviously, his feelings on a Totholi consort were much different when face-to-face with him. “My name is Raoden. I’ll be escorting you.”

“Yeah, I’m not remembering that,” Vorrin said, stepping past the man without a second glance and starting toward the training ground. “How about I call you Button?”

“Well, er…”

“Perfect. Come on."

The soldier scrambled after him, needing to use his full stride to keep pace at Vorrin's side. As they reached the end of the hall, he angled toward the right, the direction to the main entrance of the arena.

Vorrin turned left.

"Um, I think the training grounds are--"

"I know how to get there," Vorrin said.

He strode the full length of the hall, turning left and then left again. He barely glanced at the other soldiers and servants they passed along the way, only stopping when he reached a worn, narrow door the same grey as the stone around it.

"Royal Consort--"

Vorrin was already pushing inside.

"Hello, boys!"

The whole room scrambled to their feet. A couple of men fell off their beds. One hit his head on the bunk above him as he rushed to stand.

“So this is where you all go to slack off.”

One of the soldiers without his shirt or shoes squirmed. “We’re off duty, your…Royal Consort…sir.”

“Of course. Don't mind me.” He mosied down the aisle, looking idly around with each step, gaze skimming past the soldiers enough that they dropped their heads to avoid eye contact. “I just wanted a look at my old quarters before Button here escorts me to the armory. Well, close enough. These were the squire quarters. You're all full-fledged soldiers, aren't you?"

"Er...most of us," Button interceded from behind. When Vorrin glanced back at him, the man stood by the entrance, looking desperate to lead Vorrin back out. "Military rankings work differently in Avarose. Um...should we perhaps..."

"Really? That's interesting." Vorrin sat himself down on one of the now-empty bunks. He crossed his ankle over his knee and leaned back on one hand. "How is it done in Avarose?"

Button looked around the room, but no one else spoke up. "Royal Consort Vorrin, I really think..."

Vorrin raised his brows. "Yes?"

"Uh...well, in Totholan there are three titled ranks, right? Page, squire, and knight? Though of course some knights can reach the higher rank of Knight General or the highest rank, like yourself, Grand Master."

Vorrin shook his head. "King Duras was the Grand Master. I'm just a general."

Button blinked and glanced toward his comrades and back. "Respectfully, sir...that wasn't what we were told in our briefing. That's why the Empress specifically--" He abruptly cut off and cleared his throat. "My point was Totholi military is more simplistic."

One of the soldiers snickered but stopped before Vorrin could identify who it was.

"Whereas Avarosian military is sort of...complicated."

Vorrin leaned his chin into his hand. "Oh?"

"There are ranks within ranks. Sort of like your knights, but with much more variety." He lifted one end of the wide scarlet sash wrapped around his middle. Looking at the colors may help. The lowest rank is yellow. Children in training wear the palest shade and it deepens as they move up. Green is the next rank, usually utilized as messengers or apprentices to higher-ranked soldiers. Blue is reserved for military medics. Red is for ordained soldiers, again the palest shades are always reserved for those with the least experience. Generals wear black. The sovereign wears white. But only on the battlefield.

Vorrin closed his eyes a moment, tentatively summoning a memory. He could still picture that day perfectly. Empress Callista standing over him, half of her hair escaped from its braid, the long tails of her "white" sash whipping in the wind. In reality, it had only been white in small patches; the majority of it was dyed red with blood. The point of her blade pressed carefully into his throat. He'd swallowed. She'd grinned.

Vorrin's eyes shot back open. He pushed himself back to his feet, shoving the memory's emotions deep down and instead surveying the soldiers once again.

"It seems every one of you carries a red sash. I'm surprised."

"Sir?"

"It took thirty minutes for my manservant to acquire one of you. You do realize that a request from my servants is a request from me?"

Button bowed his head. "Yes, Royal Consort."

"Tell me, how long did you spend arguing, drawing straws, and over me instead of doing your duty."

Button sank so far between his shoulders he resembled a turtle. "Too long, Royal Consort."

A part of Vorrin wanted to punish them further for Switch's sake. But Button had admitted his fault without excuse. Vorrin had to give the man credit for that. Many of the men looked equally chastened. No need to press further when a reprimand was being received.

"I suggest being a little quicker next time," he finished.

"Yes, Royal--"

"You're not in charge of us, Tolothi," another soldier interrupted. The man was all wiry muscle and unruly hair. Vorrin noted that his sash was vermillion whereas many of the other's were crimson.

Vorrin stalked up to the man, gazing down at him from under half-lowered lids. "Am I not?"

"You're a pet."

"Argin," one of the crimson soldiers hissed warningly.

"A dog may be pampered and protected," Argin continued, meeting Vorrin's eyes. " but that doesn't make it less a dog. And a dog holds no authority no matter who it belongs to."

Vorrin only smiled. "You sleep in a bunk bed. I sleep beside the Empress. Maybe I am a dog, but between the two of us, I wonder who has more authority. I suppose if you're really concerned I could ask the Empress what she thinks."

Argin paled a fraction and clenched his teeth hard enough to crack. He ducked away from Vorrin's gaze. "Aren't you supposed to be practicing sparring or something?"

"You're right. Thank you, Kitty."

The man flushed equal parts embarrassment and anger.

"Come along, Raoden."

Button looked a little shocked at the usage of his real name, but he quickly fell in step, following Vorrin through the door at the back of the room into another room of bunks, this one empty. The Knights' old quarters. They passed rows and rows of beds before exiting another door into the armory.

Unlike the barracks, this room had been completely reorganized. Probably so it could hold all the weapons that the Avarosian army had brought with them.

Vorrin ran his hand down the row of spears lined along the wall. "Any limits on which weapons I'm allowed to use?"

"I don't think Empress Callista established a rule." Button looked around the room nervously. "Maybe nothing too sharp?"

Vorrin tsked. "Do you have so little faith in yourself that I need a handicap?"

"When it comes to you, sir, yes."

"Really? You don't think you could stop me if I was armed? A little concerned for the person who is supposed to keep me from escaping.

Button swallowed. "I don't know, sir. But I know it took the Empress to defeat you, and I couldn't win against the Empress." He gathered himself taller. "However, Royal Consort, I don't think you plan on running. Even if I fell, there are at least a hundred guards between here and the end of the palace grounds. They would catch you immediately."

Button's tone begged Vorrin not to try anything. He almost seemed to be trying to convince himself as much as Vorrin. He was right though. Vorrin suspected that having a watch was more about preventing him from stealing weapons than stopping an escape attempt.

"I'll stick with the quarterstaff then," Vorrin said, plucking the long wooden pole off the wall. "I only want to practice some movements today anyway."

Button nodded, relieved, and they exited the armory into the training grounds. A light breeze wafted the smell of the dusty earth, and the musty hay of the training dummies to his nose. Vorrin closed his eyes, breathing in the familiar scents. It had been a long time.

The quarterstaff felt a little strange in his hands. Though his hands instinctively gripped the right places, the weapon no longer fit the same against his too-smooth palms.

Vorrin spun the staff a couple times before trying a stab. He stumbled a little and gritted his teeth. He'd overextended.

His immediate reaction was a surge of rage, but he exhaled the emotion slowly. This is fine. Just go back to the basics.

He fell into a defensive stance. Block, parry, stab. Block, parry, stab. He moved slowly, perfecting each movement as he went. After about four times, he picked up speed, throwing in a few dodging movements and thrusting out the pole in low and high attacks.

Button yawned from the sidelines.

Vorrin half-wanted to ask the guard to spar with him, but he doubted that was allowed. Maybe he should asked for two guards next time, one to spar with and another to watch him. Better yet, maybe he could begin bargaining for the release of his soldiers. Not at all at once, but one or two at a time. He missed their familiar company. Not to mention, he’d need them if this uprising was going to work.

Having enough of the repetitive movements, Vorrin imagined an invisible enemy before him. He’d done this all the time as a boy when the other pages refused to be his sparring partner. Having Captain Kenric for a mentor had remedied that, but he’d still found solace in solo sparring once in a while.

He lowered into a defensive stance, holding the quarterstaff diagonal from his body. He circled slowly, searching for weak spots, knowing his enemy was doing the same. Abruptly, he thrust the staff forward. The enemy dodged, swinging back at him violently. He barely stepped back in time, throwing the staff sideways to block the blow. He gritted his teeth and widened his stance further against the imaginary weight. He shoved forward hard, knocking the figment backward. He stalked forward, raising his elbows in preparation for the finishing jab. He thrust the weapon forward, and...

A very visible, very real sword collided with the end of his staff.

Vorrin inhaled sharply, retreating back a couple steps and instinctively throwing out his quarterstaff in front of him. It took a couple moments for him to make sense of the red-and-gold-clad figure in front of him.

Empress Callista glanced at the weapon then casually back to his face with a widening grin. She slid her sword back into its sheath. “Hello, dear."

Vorrin exhaled slowly, doing his best to hide the tension ebbing from his muscles. He'd felt like a hair-trigger ready to fire. "What are you doing here?"

"What, I can't visit my consort? you weren't in your quarters; I was told I could find you here." Her eyes roved back to the weapon. "It's been a while since I've seen you in action. Serious as ever I see."

Vorrin furrowed his brow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Some people spar for fun, you know. But you have that same look you have in battle. Fighting isn't a game to you, is it?"

Where did she get off acting like she knew anything about him?

"I spar for fun," he said a little sharper than intended. "But there's nothing fun about swinging a stick around by yourself. Besides, if I'm going to regain all my skills, I can't afford to be lax."

Empress Callista let out a little amused breath. "Well then, we'll need to spar together sometime."

Vorrin's face warmed. "I wasn't implying that I wanted--"

"I like the outfit," she interrupted. "Very classic."

“Well, it was in my wardrobe.”

Empress Callista gasped in mock offense. “Are you suggesting that I gave you those clothes just because I wanted to see them on you?”

“Is that not true?”

“Well, maybe.” She winked, her smile landing somewhere firmly between flirtatious and wicked. However, the sly curve quickly straightened into a more serious expression. “I didn’t know what you looked like until the first time we faced each other in battle. I had no idea what would suit you, so we brought lots.”

“You didn’t think we had clothes here?” Vorrin said.

“Dressing you in our styles was intentional."

"And now?"

"It still is. But your comfort is also important, so we'll find a compromise."

Vorrin let the butt of the quarterstaff rest against the ground. He leaned into it like a walking stick. "Dressing me like an Avarosian isn't going to win over the people. They're just going to be mad that I'm betraying our culture."

"Maybe. But it does show them who you belong to." Her gaze darkened. "And it's not just for your people. Mine need reminders too."

Vorrin's insides went cold. Empress Callista was so confident, so domineering in every action and word, he'd never considered that her people might have as many disagreements with this plan as he did. He was safe...wasn't he?"

"Anyway, darling," she said, shattering the frozen feeling encasing him, "as much as I love our little tiffs, I came to wish you farewell. I'm heading to the border this afternoon."

Vorrin remembered what Pins had said about the Empress saying goodbye. He sincerely hoped that neither manservant had shared his interest in her departure. "You don't need to do that. My servants would have told me."

"Ah. Of course." She cleared her throat and gathered herself up a little straighter. "It's a two-week trip--5 days to the border and another 5 back. I would have felt strange saying nothing at all."

Vorrin didn't quite know how to respond, so he stayed silent.

The empress cleared her throat again. Wait a minute. Did she actually feel awkward right now?

“Is there anything you need before I go?” she said

"I need your soldiers to stop terrorizing my manservants."

The empress's forehead furrowed. Not confusion, or doubt. More...disciplinary. The look of a parent when they're told their child has been caught teaching curse words.

"Explain."

"Pins gets his wages partially stolen whenever he sends money back home to his mother. And Switch gets harassed when he makes requests on my behalf. It has to do with serving a Totholi, which, I would like to remind them, is literally his job."

Empress Callista raised her brows. "Switch and Pins?"

"That's what I call them."

She didn't push it further.

Vorrin continued on. "They're in positions of power and servants to the Empire. They're abusing those positions for personal gain. If it were my men they'd be cleaning everyone's armor for the next week. Or be working directly with me until they wised up."

Vorrin caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Perhaps his voice had risen too loud because Button shifted uncomfortably from his post at the arena's edge. His eyes flicked their way, briefly connecting with Vorrin's. The young man's shoulders leaped a little, and he hastily averted his gaze to the empty space ahead of him.

The young man had been properly chastened earlier, but Vorrin wanted him to bring this information back to the others.

"They can't be allowed to act this way, can they?" he said, letting his anger raise his voice even louder.

"No," the empress said firmly. "Their behavior is unacceptable. Unfortunately, I don't have control of every action the people in my employ make. However, I will be alerting my generals and captains of the issue. They should provide some correction. Let me know if it continues."

Vorrin nodded. Despite the many things that bothered him about the empress, the one thing he could count on was that she was fair. King Duras had allowed, even encouraged, a toxic dynamic in his army. One where power and physical strength reigned as dictators. It had taken a long while for Vorrin to clean up once he became Knight General, so he couldn't help but appreciate the empress's standards.

She tipped her head to catch his gaze. "I assure you, Vorrin. The trust I have in my army is critical to me. I allow error, and I allow redemption, but those I deem untrustworthy have no place with me.

"I know. Thank you." The words came out before Vorrin knew what he was saying. To his surprise, he actually meant them.

"Anyway," he said, diverting the attention from his last words. "Why are you going to the border?"

Empress Callista smiled thinly. "There's confidential information I don't want to be written in a letter. At least not one that passes many hands. Not only that, but I'm going to be surveying the area for construction."

"Construction?"

"For the new capital. With the kingdoms merging, I can't stay here. Avarose would be outraged. But I can't return as if nothing happened either, or I risk losing my foothold. We need a neutralized city equally distant between both locations."

"Idosa won't be the capital anymore?" Vorrin didn't know why he hadn't thought about that sooner. Technically, Idosa had ceased being the capital the moment Empress Callista won the war. Yet, everything remained so much the same, the castle, the stationing of the guard, the mannerisms of the city... He'd never imagined this type of reform.

"Don't act so sullen. This will be a massive change for all of us. Streles has been the Avarosian capital for centuries. I'm anticipating a heated argument with every noble and advisor I have over the next few months."

"And me?"

It wasn't a very articulate question, but the empress seemed to understand.

"You'll come with me, of course. Not only to the new capital but to Avarose as well. The new city will take time to build, so we may travel back and forth for some time."

"I could stay here." That was something consorts did, right? Have their own homes? At least, King Duras had gifted his mistresses residences within and without the city. Then again, many of them were not official consorts. Still, it wasn't as if Callista needed him outside Idosa. If she gave him this place, he could fix it. It wouldn't be exactly as it was, but it could be close.

Even as he tried to convince himself of nobler intentions, the truth gnawed at him. He was scared. Outside of battle and expeditions for the King, he'd never lived anywhere else. He'd grown up here. He'd become something here.

Empress Callista shook her head, a little sympathy peeking through her steady expression. "You're my token. A representation of our countries' union. You'll always be with me."

Always?

Vorrin's lungs suddenly felt tight. Like he'd been shoved into a space--a cage--too tight for his body.

The empress's hands found his face, stroking his cheekbones with her thumbs. "It's alright, love. I will take care of you."

As if that was what worried him. Like he was a child who needed consoling about moving away from his friends. As if this was just about him and not everyone in Idosa--no Tothalan! And him a helpless bird with clipped wings.

No. No, don't think about that.

He released a shuddering breath.

He could stop this. None of this had to happen if he completed his mission. Calm. Calm. He just had to endure a while.

Vorrin stepped back out of her reach and looked down at her gold-button travel boots.

"Good luck, on your journey."

Empress Callista's hands dropped to her side, but she stepped forward, regaining the ground between them. "If you need anything, if you have any trouble, send for me. I'll return."

"Ah, so you expect trouble," Vorrin joked, not quite able to summon the humor into his smile.

She gently took his chin, raising his face to her eyes before withdrawing again. Her eyes appeared almost molten in the sunlight.

"I will be back before you know it."

Vorrin wasn't sure if that was meant as a comfort or a warning, maybe both. It made him feel strange.

He took two long steps back this time, properly distancing himself.

"Well, goodbye then. Bring me back something nice." With that, he turned his back on her, striding back to Button. "I'd like to go back to my room now."

Vorrin allowed the soldier to lead him through the proper exit this time. As they left, he felt the empress's eyes following him.

He did not look back.

Taglist:

@whatiswhump, @aprilraine, @ilovescarletwitch, @conniedensazation, @feedthebirds, @bloodinkandashes

[pilkypills]

Do you have any favorite headcanons for the RI brothers?

Oooh good question! As a matter of fact, I do!

Dori-

-I think he’s the kind of guy whose word is his bond. If he says he’ll do something, he’ll do it.

-He redoes his braids as often as he can, even out on the road. He hates having them be messy. Nori’s hair gets on his nerves because it’s never in its proper place and Nori won’t sit still long enough for him to fix it. Also, he can put up and take down his braids extremely fast due to years of having the same hairstyle.

-Also also, about his hair: I think he and Nori tie for having the longest hair in the company, and before his hair turned silver (which I think it did very quickly due to the stress of raising his brothers and providing for them) it was titian, as red and dark as a garnet.

-He keeps a spotless house and holds a grudge forever, even by dwarf standards.

-And of course I love the popular headcanon (half-canon?? I’m not sure) that he has a passion for tailoring and brewing tea, and if he didn’t have to worry about making a living in the Blue Mountains he would’ve made a career out of either of them.

-(I read somewhere that Dori and Gloin don’t get along) Part of his dislike for Gloin is a leftover rivalry from Ori and Gimli’s school days over who’s kid was smarter/cuter/etc. PTA night was like a war zone. Another part of his dislike is from what he sees as Gloin trying to be a big brother to Nori, maybe taking his place a little bit. (According to Chronicles, Gloin is trying to get Nori to care about dwarf history and culture)

Nori

-He's actually kind of rubbish at pickpocketing. BUT he’s an excellent survivalist and a great tracker. He also has a great head for subterfuge.

-He's just as much of a dandy as his brother. He likes expensive things, especially nice clothes. And he would never admit it to Dori’s face, but thinks his brother’s skill at sewing and tailoring are unmatched.

-Out of all of the members of the company, he’s changed his hairstyle the most over the years. He knows perfectly well his current style is impossible to upkeep but he’s too stubborn to admit it.

-Since he’s canonically had dealings with elves, I think he knows a little Sindarin. When Ori learns it himself later, it’s something they get to bond over. (I don’t think Ori knew Sindarin at the time of the quest bc nobody asked him to read the names of Thorin and Gandalf’s swords)

-Has a very, very hard time being sincere. He’s incredibly used to interacting with people who are only out for themselves.

-Nori didn’t really trust or respect Thorin as a leader until pretty late in the quest. After Bofur, he's perhaps the one who gets along with him the least. Nori isn’t the kind of guy to yield to authority and I don't think he'd have a lot in common with him to begin with.

-He often avoided Ori out of guilt when he came back home. He has a hard time connecting with him at first on the quest.

-He started smoking as an adolescent just because he knew Dori wouldn’t approve. Dori still forbids smoking in the house and he still does it anyway. He let Ori try some at one point during the quest and Dori was furious.

Ori

-Taking a little inspiration from some of the very cute bts clips I’ve seen, I think Ori is very snarky and deadpan when he isn’t being polite and mannerly. Fíli, Kíli, and Gimli (and later, Bilbo) have seen just how dry his sense of humor is. He’s a witty guy, just kind of nervous around his elders.

-He was an absolute schemer as a little kid. Rarely got in trouble because he was just so darn cute and angelic looking that no one would believe Fili and Kili when they’d say he helped them with something.

-Has exceptional eyesight for a dwarf, similar to Kili. This one might just be canon, seeing as he was able to hit a warg square in the head with his slingshot. Not his fault the rock was too small to do any damage lol.

-I know opinions on this vary quite a lot, but I’d really like to think he’s got a lot of natural body strength, similar to Dori. He just doesn’t have the self-assuredness to utilize it properly. I don’t know if I’d say he’s as strong as his brother, but I do think if he punched you you’d be in for a nasty surprise.

-Once Dori stops meddling with his hair, Ori lets it grow long. He never really takes to elaborate hairstyles, keeping just enough braids for it to stay out of his eyes while he works.

In general

-If Bilbo had stayed in Erebor, they really would have tried to adopt him officially. And if Bilbo had stayed, he would’ve probably let them.

-Ori’s death shakes Nori and Dori very badly. Dori cuts his beard, becomes withdrawn, and dies a few short years later. Nori takes a turn for the worse and becomes prone to reckless behavior. Ori was the glue that held them together. They blamed themselves for letting him go to Moria.

-They may be dysfunctional, but the love they have for each other is real and unshakeable. Deep down, Nori and Ori are just as protective of the big brother that raised them. Definitely not as mother hen-ish, but protective all the same.

-And of course, I GOTTA go with the popular one: The Ri brothers are absolutely gorgeous by dwarf standards. It’s an oldie but a goodie and you can pry it out of my cold, dead hands.

Thanks for the question!

[jarenka]

Hey so I don't know how aware you are of the youtube historical costuming scene BUT your recent post with Anakin in a bunch of cottagecore outfits (specifically the wrap shawl that looks like it's meant to be a modern take on a fichu) has me thinking that he would try to join in on the American Duchess Wrap Cape Challenge, in which case, do you think this man has any skill with a sewing machine? Or is he a "I can mend/patch it if there's damage to my clothes and that's good enough for me" kind of guy.

Bold of you to assume that Anakin sews these pretty clothes himself and doesn't have a best tailor on Naboo the sew them for him! 😁

Overall I think that Anakin was taught to mend his clothes in Jedi Order, so he can do that. Maybe he even can do this with sewing machine, if they are very common in GFFA. But I don't think he can sew his own clothes.

(Tbh my mind is already wandering in "crack treated seriously" direction. I don't believe that Anakin can seriously be a tradwife, but he can jokingly post about that in his space Instagram.

Let's imagine that in this AU Palpatine... Died in the beginning of III episode, during the "saving the chancellor" scene. Republic uncovered a lot of his machinations and soon they were able to start negotiations with Separatists. Padme was already pregnant, so Anakin left Jedi order to be with her. Tabloids went absolutely wild with headlines like "Shock! General Skywalker abandoned his successful military career to be senator Amidala's husband!" He actually spend first year or two as "househusband", because he needed to recover after the war, and he wanted to spend time with children and find what job he actually wants to take. Of course general public had no idea if he was taking additional engineering courses to get a job at the company he was interested, so everyone assumed that he just a Padme's husband now. So just out of spite Anakin started to make posts in his Instagram in this "I am baking bread and making jam for my family" style. He was sure that everyone would recognise it's just a joke, because everybody knew that Padme's family is rich and they have servants, nanny and droids. But netizens ate this shit up. That became even funnier when Anakin became a very successful engineer. So, for fellow engineers in his field he was like "oh, this guy, he invented this is this and everyone reads his articles in Galactic Journal of Engineering", but for average GFFA citizen he is a former Jedi and general who became senator Amidala's trophy husband).

Sorry for this long and overly serious answer for your question.