#maybe not. I'll decide when I get to my sewing machine

[tj-crochets]

Less than twelve hours left, and now that I've finished the isopod the top five are snorlax, a dragon, a cuddly owlbear, a duck or goose, and a snail or snail puppy! Vote for which one you want, I think I'm going to make a few quick flannel baby blankets to get more fabric out of my stash

Feel free to send color combo suggestions for any of the options! I have three very quick partially done projects to finish up, then I have no idea what to make I can't edit the poll options but it didn't show I had too many characters on the snorlax line! I think it's probably pretty obvious, but the rest of that poll option was meant to be "she just likes snorlax)"

[happy74827]

One Call Away

[Wade Wilson x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: During one of his "jobs," Deadpool gets a call from his favorite gal [GIF Creds: jdsheart]

WC: 1970

Category: Fluff, Major Comedy {TW: Deadpool’s Humor/Nonfiltered Personality}

This man is so hard to write. I’m always stressing the noggin when it comes to planning and plotting 😔

『••✎••』

"And away we go..."

One neck crack and a couple of hip twists later, he was off like Aladdin and his fucktoy carpet, scaling the building similarly to a chameleon on LSD.

The only thing that was missing was some epic music.

He'd been chasing this baddie around the city for almost two days now. Some big-shot mob boss with ties to Hydra, or the Mafia, or the Yakuza, or some other three-letter-acronym organization. It was hard to keep track of them all at this point. They were all the same, except for the name.

They all had their own agenda.

Kill him, keep him prisoner, pay him off...

Wade never cared enough to listen because it was always the same. He just got hired to do the dirty work, and the pay was good.

The killing was better.

This one, however, was particularly good at eluding him. He'd been trying to get his hands on this man for a few days now. It wasn't as though he was trying to be stealthy or anything, either. He'd walked right up to his front door, knocked, and was greeted with a spray of machine gun bullets.

So, the usual.

But then the guy ran and didn't stop. It was like the fucking Roadrunner met Sonic the Hedgehog, and they decided to fuck around and find out.

Wade was getting real sick and tired of being a Roadrunner, too. He had a reputation to uphold. He wasn't known as the Merc with the Mouth for nothing. He was supposed to be the one doing the running and the killing.

Not the other way around.

Finally, finally, he managed to reach the roof where the guy was currently taking cover behind a small brick shack. The sun was rising, but it was still dark, and there were a couple of floodlights shining on the rooftop. It made him think of the night he'd had that heart-to-heart with Blind Al, even though all she really wanted was for him to bring her some of that special brownie mix.

What a night that had been.

But anyway, this monologue is starting to get too long, and we should probably move things along, eh?

Right.

So, the baddie.

His name was something long and non-English.

Salvatore, or Santino, or Salvation... Whatever the fuck it was, it didn't really matter. What mattered was that it was time to make him dead.

He stepped around the corner and was met with a spray of bullets, all of which lodged themselves into his Kevlar vest.

"Oh, come on!" he yelled over the sound of the gunfire. "This is real leather, you know. I'm tired of all the offscreen sewing and shit."

When the spray finally ended, he took a moment to catch his breath.

"…ow," he whispered to himself.

"You shouldn't have followed me here," the man said.

"Yeah, whatever," Deadpool replied. "Look, I'll make this easy for you. You drop down and give me fifty, and I'll let you keep that hideous mustache you're sporting."

The man's eyes widened in surprise.

"It's not that bad, is it?"

"Yes, yes it is," Deadpool assured him. "You got a squirrel living in it or something?"

"It's just a little bit of gray, you dick," the man argued. "What about you? What's with the mask? Are you hiding a mustache under there, too, or something? Maybe some acne scars?"

Deadpool shook his head and stepped forward, his guns drawn.

"Don't come any closer!"

"You know, this would be much more intimidating if you didn't look like a cartoon mouse."

"Stop it with the mustache!"

"Alright, alright," Deadpool said. "Enough with the mustache. But what is it about your hairline? I can't put my finger on it."

The man sighed in exasperation and pulled out his pistol, aiming it right at Deadpool's face.

"Hey now, don't point that at me," Deadpool scolded him. "That's not a very nice thing to do."

He ignored him and pulled the trigger, a loud boom ringing out as the bullet fired. It whizzed by him but missed its mark.

"You really are a dick," He grumbled before aiming his gun right between the man's eyes. And he was going to shoot, honest.

He really was.

But then his phone rang, and he was well-reminded of the current song playing through his head.

I'm a buff baby that can dance like a man. I can shake-ah my fanny, I can shake-ah my can!

Needless to say, he was distracted.

He lowered his gun and looked down at his pocket, where his phone was still ringing and still vibrating against his leg.

"Shit, hold that thought," He said to the guy, and he holstered his gun.

"Wh-what the hell are you doing?!"

Deadpool put his finger up to shush him before pulling his phone out of his pocket to answer it.

If you're an evil witch, I’ll punch you for fu—

"Heyyyy," he said in a sing-songy voice, "you've reached the phone sex hotline. For kinks and fetishes, press one. For booty calls, press two. For your favorite mercenary, press three."

"Ey, pendejo—" His opponent started, but he cut him off by snapping and raising his finger.

"Cut it, Tuco Salamanca. Breaking Bad called and wants its meth-cooking mustache back."

"Wha-I-you-"

"Anyways, this is your favorite merc speaking. Who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?"

"Is this a bad time?"

Wade's eyes widened in shock, and his jaw dropped open when he heard her voice on the other end of the line.

"Baby girl! Is that you? Oh, how I've missed your voice. It's like hearing an angel, or an angelic chorus, or a whole bunch of angels, but you're the most important one. Like, the lead singer or something."

"I literally saw you last night." Your voice was always drenched with the most amazing kind of sarcasm, and he'd missed it.

"And?"

"It's only been a few hours."

"And?"

"That's a short amount of time."

"And?"

You sighed, but he knew you weren't really annoyed.

"Anyways, you sounded busy," you continued, "so I'll just let you go."

"What?! No! Don't hang up!" He shouted into the receiver. "I've only fiddled with my pistols! Nothing interesting is happening right now!"

"Your pistols, huh?" You asked a hint of mischief in your voice.

"Well, yeah. They're the most important part of the mission, you know."

In the corner of his eye, he could see his target making his way towards the edge of the building. Quickly and efficiently, without dropping his attention from his conversation with you, he lifted his gun and fired a shot at the man's knee.

"Ah, fuck!" the man screamed in pain. "My knee!"

"Hey! Language!" Deadpool scolded him. "The lady of the house is listening!"

"Lady of the- what the fuck?!"

"I said language, you mustachioed rat!"

"Mustachioed rat?" You asked.

"Sorry, babe," he replied. "You know how excited I get when Downtown Abbey is on."

“There’s gunshots in Downtown Abbey?"

"Gunshots? Oh, no, no. That was… uh, a car alarm. Yeah, the neighbor's car alarm was going off."

"Uh-huh," you said, not sounding very convinced. And, of course, that was right around the time the guy's gun went off again, this time hitting him square in the shoulder. It made the phone fall out of his hand and clatter onto the ground, but the call was still connected.

"Dammit!" He yelled, looking at the fresh blood dripping down his arm. "That's gonna take forever to heal!"

"Who are you talking to?" The man demanded, his gun still aimed at Deadpool's face. "You're working with someone?"

"Hey, now, I don't remember giving you permission to talk," Deadpool told him, holding his bloody arm up to his face. "Look, I've gotta call you back, babe. I know it's been so heartbreakingly long—"

"Again, only a few hours," you said.

"—but duty calls. Love you, bye."

"Love you, bye."

With that, the line disconnected.

"Ugh," he groaned, his heart aching for the loss of your sweet voice. "I miss her already."

"Ey," his opponent growled, drawing his attention. He started speaking in rapid-fire Spanish, which Deadpool didn't really understand, but he didn't have to. The guy was just ranting and raving.

"Alright, alright, chill," Deadpool said. "Just calm down. It’ll all be over soon, little buddy."

"I am not little! I am a giant!" The guy protested, and Wade could practically see the steam coming out of his ears. "And I will not chill!"

"Well, can't argue with that, I guess," Deadpool said with a shrug, and he took aim. But before he could pull the trigger, the guy was running again.

"Hey, what did I tell you about running?!" He yelled, but his voice fell on deaf ears as the guy reached the ledge.

"I am a giant!"

"No, you're a giant asshat!"

"I will not be bested by some masked buffoon!"

"Buff? Me? Why, I never!"

"You're the biggest asshole I've ever met!"

"You know what? I am a big ass! A big, round, bubbly ass." He paused for a second. "Hey, what's your favorite flavor?"

"Fuck you, you red-clad imbecile!"

"You know, I'd ask you out to dinner first, but we're kinda past that now."

"Argh!"

"Alright, enough stalling," Deadpool said. "It's time to end this."

"Yes," the guy said, turning his gun back on Deadpool. "It is."

Of course, Deadpool being the smart-ass he was, he'd already taken a step to the side. As the bullet whizzed past him, he reached for his gun.

"Now, where did I put that thing? Oh, there it is."

He aimed the gun and fired, and the man fell back onto the ground. The bullet hit him right in the middle of his forehead, his blood splattering all over the concrete.

"Ha ha! Fatality. Deadpool wins!" He said, his voice taking on the deep, grounded tone of the narrator from Mortal Kombat. "Flawless Victory."

He stood over the body for a few seconds, reveling in his victory, before he felt the presence of another.

The gun on his right side got ripped from its holster, and the barrel was aimed back into his face, as it always seems to be.

But, he already sensed it was coming, so his fingers wrapped around his other and aimed that right in the golden spot… and let’s just say, The Golden Girls was a little less golden and a lot more crimson.

"Wow, this has got to be a record," He said as he bent down to stare at the new one’s anguish. "Two dead ugly mustaches in the same day. You can call me Sweeney Todd because shit… I just shaved you the fuck up."

He didn’t give the poor bastard a chance to even whimper before he fired another two shots into the man's head. All in all, this had been the easiest payday he'd had in a while.

He picked up his cell phone and slipped it back into its pocket before bending down and scooping up the mustache man's pistol.

"Ooh, lookie here, a nice, shiny new pistol," he said to himself. "Just what I've always wanted. Well, I don't actually need it. It's not like I have any other holes in my body, but you know what they say. The more the merrier."

He stuffed the gun in his holster and turned around, heading back the way he'd come.

"Time to get back to the good stuff," he said. "I have a date with my favorite girl."

He hopped up onto the ledge and looked down, his eyes locking on the window to his apartment.

And when he arrived, bloody and battered, you could only smile while holding up little ole Mary Puppins in all her drooling glory.

God, how he missed his girls.

[yourlocaljonghoe]

(Un)dress To Impress. || Choi Jongho.

Summary: what do you do when the dress you wore to your work's annual christmas party turns out to be way too short? simple: you hide in the bathroom, get saved by choi jongho from a creep lurking outside, and then... fuck him?

Pairing: choi jongho x reader

Genre: coworkers to lovers (?), smut (mdni)

Wordcount: 4.3k

Warnings: bathroom sex, big dick!jongho, dom!jongho, brat!reader, spanking, breath play, fingering, name calling (slut), manhandling, marking, getting caught

A/N: hello @rems-writing, I was your secret santa for @mirohs-aurora-society! i really hope you like this, it's pretty rushed and not that good unfortunately🥲 but I hope you had a great christmas and happy new year in a few hours my jongho biased twin <33 divider credits go to @firefly-graphics!

Taglist: @ghstzzn, @kyukyustar, @hwapetals, @foxinnie8, @preciouswoozi, @aussiekpopginger, @kitten4sannie, @hanjisungs-bigtittyg0thgf

Available here on AO3.

You tugged at the hem of the so-called “dress” for the hundredth time, as though it’s going to magically grow three more inches and stop threatening to expose your dignity to the entire office. Spoiler: it won’t. It clinged to you like it’s been painted on, and you’re convinced the tiniest movement was enough to break it entirely.

There were the sleeves - oh, wait, there weren’t any. Just two pathetic spaghetti straps holding up a neckline so low that you’re genuinely worried about a “wardrobe malfunction” the next time you sneeze. And the skirt? Calling it a skirt is generous. It’s more like a festive belt that someone decided to stitch some cheap white fur onto for extra humiliation.

And don’t even get started on the heels. Stilettos, of course, because apparently nothing screams “Santa's Little Helper” like shoes that double as torture devices. Every step is a wobble, every wobble is a threat to your ankles, and every glance down makes you wonder if this is how you’ll die - face-planting into the snack table and exposing your private parts while everyone laughs and records it for TikTok.

You groaned as you let go of the dress’s hem, resigned to the fact that it wasn’t going to cover anything no matter how much you pulled. With a deep breath, you adjusted the straps for what felt like the millionth time, hoping they wouldn’t snap under the strain. Maybe if you stayed in the bathroom long enough, people would just forget you were even here.

But, alas, the universe wasn’t so kind.

Just as you cracked the bathroom door open, ready to make a break for the nearest corner where you could hide for the rest of the party, you nearly collided with Hongjoong.

“Oh, thank God, I found you!” he blurted out. His eyes widened as they took in the unfortunate excuse for an outfit you’d been saddled with, and his face flushed red. “Oh my God. I uh, wow, okay - this is bad. Really bad. I am so sorry. This is entirely my fault.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, attempting to shield at least a fraction of your dignity. “Yeah, Hongjoong, it is bad,” you deadpanned, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “My ass - Hongjoong, my entire ass is practically out!”

“I know, I know!” he said, flapping his hands like he was trying to wave away his guilt. “I swear, it was a mix-up with the sizes. They sent the wrong one, and I didn’t double-check before handing them out. I’m so sorry. I’ll fix this right now!”

“Yeah?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “How exactly do you plan to fix it? Unless you’ve got a sewing machine hidden somewhere?”

Hongjoong looked like a deer caught in headlights for a split second before a light bulb seemed to go off in his head. “Wait here!” he said, spinning on his heel and darting away. “I’ll be right back! I'll bring you my jacket!”

You sighed heavily, leaning against the bathroom door frame as you watched him vanish into the crowd. You could hear faint laughter and music coming from the party, a cruel reminder that you were supposed to be out there, mingling and enjoying yourself, not hiding in the bathroom like a contestant on a humiliating reality show.

Deciding you’d had enough of standing around in your ridiculous getup, you slipped back into the bathroom and locked the door. “Great,” you muttered to yourself, pacing the small space.

The knock on the door that came after a few minutes startled you. Sighing, you unlocked it and swung it open, expecting Hongjoong and his promised jacket.

Instead, you found Jongho, his broad shoulders taking up most of the doorway. He stepped inside without even waiting for an invitation, shutting the door behind him with a quiet click.

“Jongho?” you hissed, your confusion turning quickly to irritation.

What the hell was the man you had a one-sided work rivalry with doing here?!

“What are you doing in here? This is the woman's bathroom!”

“Be quiet,” he said, his voice low and firm. He turned to glance back at the door. “There’s a guy outside. He’s been hanging around, watching the bathroom like a creep ever since you’ve been in here.”

You blinked slowly. “A creep?”

He nodded, his dark eyes meeting yours. “I saw looking at many women weirdly before. He doesn’t look like he’s here for the party, and I’m pretty sure now that he saw you he’s waiting for you and won't leave until you'll get out of here.”

Your stomach twisted uncomfortably, but you refused to let the fear show. “And what, you’re here to save me?” you said, crossing your arms over your chest.

Jongho’s jaw clenched, his gaze flicking down to the barely-there dress you were wearing. “Someone has to. Do you even realize what you look like in that thing?”

You glared at him angrily. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” he said, gesturing vaguely at you, “that you’re practically naked. Of course someone like that would think you’re an easy target.”

“Wow,” you snapped, a sarcastic laugh escaping you. “Thanks for the victim-blaming. Super helpful.”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” Jongho shot back, stepping closer. “I’m saying you shouldn’t have to deal with that kind of attention. And you shouldn’t be out there alone, looking like...” He hesitated, his cheeks flushing faintly.

“Looking like what?” you demanded, stepping into his space.

His lips pressed into a thin line as his eyes roamed over you, taking in every inch of the ridiculous outfit. “Like you’re in the wrong kind of holiday party.”

You gasped, outraged. “Excuse me?”

He smirked, the teasing edge you were so familiar with creeping into his expression. “I mean, I’ve seen gift wrap that covers more than that dress.”

“Ugh, why are you even here?” you snapped, shoving at his chest. It was like trying to move a wall.

“To make sure you’re safe,” he said simply, not budging an inch. “You can’t exactly fend off a creep while teetering around in those death traps you’re calling shoes.”

You let out an incredulous laugh. “I don’t need you to protect me, Jongho. I can handle myself.”

“Right,” he said, folding his arms across his chest. “Because staying hidden in the bathroom was a great strategy.”

Your cheeks burned, and you were about to fire back when his expression softened, his teasing giving way to something more genuine.

“Look,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I’m not trying to piss you off. I just... I don’t like the idea of someone like that hanging around, thinking they can get away with something.”

His words hit you harder than you wanted to admit. You sighed, some of the tension draining from your shoulders. “Fine. But if you’re staying, keep your mouth shut. I don’t need a lecture.”

“Deal,” Jongho said, his lips twitching into a small smirk. “But only if you stop glaring at me like you’re planning my murder.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the corner of your mouth from quirking up. “No promises.”

Jongho leaned against the counter, arms crossed, his eyes fixed on the floor as if deep in thought. You, on the other hand, busied yourself by fidgeting with the hem of your dress, tugging and adjusting as though you could somehow make it more modest through sheer willpower.

But the universe had other plans.

As you adjusted the neckline of the ridiculous dress for what felt like the millionth time, you heard it before you felt it - a tiny, ominous snap.

Your heart dropped.

You looked down in horror, realizing that one of the buttons holding the strained top together had given up on life entirely. The fabric gaped open, and before you could even process what was happening, your entire chest was on full display.

“Shit!” you exclaimed, scrambling to cover yourself with your hands.

Jongho’s head shot up at your outburst, his eyes locking onto you. For a brief second, he froze, his gaze flickering down before he snapped his head away so fast you were surprised he didn’t get whiplash.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, his ears turning a deep shade of red.

“Don’t look!” you shrieked, twisting away from him and pressing yourself against the wall, your hands clutching the ruined fabric.

“I’m not looking!” Jongho barked, holding up his hands as if to prove his innocence, though his voice was noticeably strained. “What the hell just happened?”

“The stupid dress!” you hissed, trying desperately to pull the fabric back together. “The button popped off!”

“Of course it did,” he said under his breath, running a hand through his hair. “That thing’s been holding on by a thread since the moment I saw you.”

“Not helping!” you snapped, glaring at him over your shoulder.

“Okay, okay, calm down,” he said, still facing the door like it was the most fascinating thing in the world. “Do you have a safety pin or something?”

“Oh, sure,” you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “I just keep an emergency sewing kit in my cleavage for situations like this!”

Jongho let out a frustrated sigh. “Alright, then. Let me think.”

“Just- just give me your jacket or something!” you demanded.

“I don’t have one!” he said, finally glancing back at you before immediately averting his gaze again. “I wasn’t exactly planning on needing it tonight!”

You groaned, your humiliation reaching an all-time high. “This is a nightmare.”

“Hey,” Jongho said, his voice surprisingly gentle. “It’s not that bad.”

You shot him a withering look. “Not that bad? My tits are practically out, Jongho!”

He smirked despite himself. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, they’re nice.”

Your jaw dropped, your face heating to what had to be a record-breaking temperature. “What?! Y-you,” you stumbled upon your words. “Just…turn around or something,” you mumbled, your fingers fumbling helplessly with the dress.

But instead of moving, Jongho stepped closer. Too close. His towering presence filled the cramped bathroom, ahd his broad shoulders were blocking out everything else. You felt the warmth radiating off him as his hand shot out to still yours.

“Stop,” he said firmly, and his tone left no room for protest.

You froze, your heart hammering in your chest as his dark eyes bore into yours. He reached out, fingers brushing your hand as he took hold of the torn fabric.

“Let me,” he murmured, voice dropping an octave.

His hands moved with deliberate care, but his touch lingered longer than it needed to. The darkness in his expression made your breath hitch, and suddenly, the ridiculous dress was the last thing on your mind.

When he finished, he didn’t step back. His hands didn’t leave your waist. If anything, his grip tightened slightly as his gaze flickered from your eyes to your lips.

“Jongho…” You barely managed to get his name out before he moved.

There was no hesitation, no words to fill the space or any other sign. His lips crashed into yours with a force that sent you stumbling back against the wall. His body followed, caging you in as one hand slid up to cradle the back of your head, tilting it just enough to deepen the kiss.

It was rough, messy, and so fucking hot. All the tension that had been building between you exploded in an instant, and it consumed you both entirely. His other hand gripped your hip, pulling you flush against him, and the heat of his body made you dizzy.

You didn’t think; you couldn’t. Your hands were in his hair, tugging him closer, your body arching into his like it was instinct. His teeth scraped against your bottom lip, and you gasped, granting him access he didn’t hesitate to take. His tongue slid against yours, and the soft groan he let out was enough to make your knees buckle.

“Fuck,” he muttered against your lips, the word more growl than anything else.

“Shut up,” you shot back, dragging him back down into another bruising kiss.

Whatever awkwardness had existed between you before was gone now, burned away in the heat of the moment. His hands were everywhere - your waist, your thighs, your hair - like he couldn’t touch enough of you all at once.

He gripped your hips, dragging you against him so firmly that you gasped. The sound seemed to snap what little control he had left. His mouth left yours, trailing down your neck and to your shoulder. One of the thin straps of your dress slid off, exposing more of your skin to his searing kisses.

“J-jongho,” you whispered, but it wasn’t a protest. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging him closer as he bit down lightly on your collarbone, his hands slipping lower to cup your thighs.

“Tell me to stop,” he rasped, though his actions made it clear he didn’t want to. His fingers toyed with the hem of your dress, the material riding higher and higher.

“I don’t want you to,” you confessed, your voice trembling. The words came out before you could think, but you didn’t regret them. Not when his dark eyes met yours, not when his kips curled into the prettiest smile you've ever seen.

“Good,” he muttered, his lips crashing against yours again.

His hands lifted you effortlessly, and your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively. The cold tile of the wall contrasted sharply with the heat of his body as he pinned you there, and it made you gasp. One hand gripped your thigh, while the other slid under the fabric of your dress, skimming over your bare skin with deliberate slowness. The contact sent a shiver down your spine, and you arched into him, needing more.

“Fuck,” he growled, his teeth grazing your jaw as his fingers teased along the edge of your underwear. “You’re driving me insane.”

“You’re one to talk, Choi,” you shot back, your breath hitching when his hand slipped lower.

His lips curled into a smirk against your neck. “Oh, really?”

Before you could answer, his fingers pressed against you through the thin fabric, and any witty remark you had died on your lips. Your head fell back against the wall, a moan escaping as he applied just enough pressure to make your hips buck against his hand.

“Look at you,” he murmured, clearly satisfied with himself. “So needy already.”

“Jongho,” you breathed, your nails digging into his shoulders.

He hummed in response, his fingers slipping under the waistband of your underwear to touch your pussy directly. You couldn’t stop the way your body reacted to him. His movements were slow, deliberate, like he was savoring every second of your unraveling.

“You’re soaking,” he said. “All for me?”

You nodded helplessly, your words failing you as he continued to work you with expert precision. His lips found yours again, swallowing your moans as his fingers pushed deeper, coaxing you closer to the edge with every movement.

The sound of your ragged breathing and the faint bass of the music outside were the only things filling the room. Every nerve in your body was on fire, and you clung to him like he was the only thing grounding you.

“Cum for me,” he whispered against your lips. “Right here. Right now.”

It was too much. The heat pooling in your core finally spilled over, and your body trembled as the wave of pleasure crashed over you. His name fell from your lips in a broken cry, and he held you through it, never once faltering.

You collapsed against him, your forehead resting against his shoulder. His hands smoothed over your thighs, grounding you as your breathing slowly returned to normal.

“That,” he said, his voice low and smug, “was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

You pulled back just enough to glare at him, though the effect was ruined by the satisfied smile tugging at your lips. “You’re so… insufferable.”

“And you’re irresistible,” he countered, his grin widening as he leaned in to kiss you again, softer this time but no less passionate.

You smiled softly. Slowly, you tried to stabilize yourself, thinking the two of you were finished and this was just a one time thing with your very hot coworker.

Boy were you wrong.

“Oh, you think you’re done?” he murmured, his voice dripping with challenge.

You blinked, still catching your breath, and gave him a rather confused look. “Yeah? What else do you think you’re gonna do to me?”

That was all the provocation he needed. His eyes darkened instantly, and the atmosphere in the tiny bathroom shifted. Without warning, he grabbed your chin, his grip firm but not painful, forcing you to look directly into his intense gaze.

“You think you’re in charge here?” he growled. His fingers pressed just enough to make your lips part in surprise. “That’s cute. But you’ve been a little brat all night, teasing me in this-" he gestured at your barely-there dress, "-and now you’re going to pay for it.”

Before you could fire back some snarky remark, Jongho spun you around, pinning you against the cold wall with his body. One of his hands held your wrists firmly above your head, while the other trailed down your side, deliberately slow, as if savoring every curve of your body.

“Jongho!” you gasped, struggling slightly, but his hold was unyielding.

“No,” he said firmly, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “You don’t get to fight me on this. You’ve been pushing my buttons all night. Now I’m going to show you what happens when you misbehave.”

Your heart pounded in a mix of arousal and anticipation. “I wasn’t misbehaving,” you muttered, though your voice lacked conviction.

“Lying now? That’s strike two,” he said with a smirk, his hand sliding down to hike up your dress completely, exposing your bare ass to his eyes. The cool air hit your skin, making you shiver. “You really are begging to be punished.”

Your cheeks burned, but a part of you - the part that craved this for so long - couldn’t stop the words from spilling out. “And if I was?”

He chuckled, and it vibrated against your back as his lips brushed your neck. “Then I’d have no choice but to teach you some manners.”

His free hand came down sharply on your ass, the sound echoing in the small bathroom. You gasped, both from the sting and the wave of pleasure that followed. “See?” he taunted, his hand rubbing the spot where he’d spanked you. “You like it when I put you in your place.”

“I don’t-” you began, but his hand struck again, cutting off your protest.

“What was that?” he asked mockingly. “I couldn’t hear you because you're so damn loud. Enjoying this I see, hm?”

You bit your lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response, but he wasn’t about to let you off the hook. His hand moved between your thighs, his fingers sliding against your still-sensitive core. “You’re dripping,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “And you’re trying to tell me you don’t want this?”

“Shut up,” you hissed, though your body betrayed you by pressing back against him.

He let out a low laugh, his teeth grazing the curve of your shoulder. “You’re such a brat,” he said, his hand slipping under your panties. “But don’t worry. I know exactly how to deal with you.”

Before you could react, he spun you around again, lifting you effortlessly onto the counter. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading them wide as he positioned himself between them. The sight of him - his flushed face, the way his shirt stretched across his broad shoulders - was enough to make your breath hitch.

“You’re going to be good for me now, aren’t you?” he asked.

“And if I’m not?”

His grin was almost feral. “Then I’ll make sure you regret it.”

He didn’t wait for a reply. His lips crashed against yours again, stealing your breath and any thoughts of resistance. His hands roamed your body, gripping, squeezing, leaving no inch untouched. When his fingers slid inside you again, you couldn’t stop the moan that escaped your lips.

“Such a good little slut for me,” he murmured against your lips, his pace relentless. “You talk back, but look at you now - falling apart under my hands.”

You whimpered, your head falling back as he worked you open relentlessly, bringing you closer to the edge again. His other hand wrapped around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make your breath hitch. The lack of oxygen made your head spin.

“You like that, don’t you?” he asked, his voice a low rumble. “Being under my control. Knowing I’m the only one who can make you feel like this.”

“Yes,” you admitted, your voice barely more than a whisper.

His lips curled into a smirk. “That’s more like it.”

But Jongho wasn’t done with you yet. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you to the edge of the counter. His strength left you no room to argue, and the anticipation of what was to come made your body tremble.

“You’re going to take everything I give you,” he said, his voice dripping with authority. “And you’re going to thank me for it.”

“Yes, Sir,” you moaned obediently. And then, finally, Jongho slid off his pants, palming himself through his boxers.

Your mouth went dry. Choi Jongho was fucking massive.

Jongho didn’t rush. He took his time freeing himself, almost as if he enjoyed watching your reaction. The moment his boxers slid down, revealing the full length of him, your eyes widened.

“Fuck,” you whispered, your voice trembling. He was thick, his cock standing proud and heavy, the tip already glistening with precum. You swallowed hard, the sheer size of him making your walls clench in anticipation.

Jongho noticed. Of course he did. His lips twisted into a smug grin as he stroked himself slowly, the veins along his length standing out as his hand worked his shaft. “See something you like?” he teased.

You nodded, barely able to speak. “You’re so big,” you managed.

He stepped closer, positioning himself between your legs. “And you’re going to take every inch of me, aren’t you?” he asked, his tone daring you to say otherwise.

You nodded again, your body trembling with need. “Yes, Sir,” you whispered.

“Good girl,” he said. He gripped his cock, the head pressing against your entrance. The stretch was immediate as he pushed inside, and your nails dug into his shoulders, a moan escaping your lips.

“Fuck,” he growled, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he sank deeper, inch by inch. “You’re so fucking tight. Feel like you were made for me.”

You whimpered, your body adjusting to his size as he filled you completely. The fullness was overwhelming, but the burn of the stretch quickly turned into pleasure, and your moans only grew louder.

“Look at you,” Jongho said, his voice already hoarse as he began to move. His thrusts were slow at first, almost teasing, but he didn’t hold back for long. His pace quickly turned brutal, each snap of his hips sending a shockwave of pleasure through your whole body.

“You’re taking me so well,” he growled, his hands gripping your waist as he fucked into you mercilessly. “Such a good little slut, letting me ruin you like this.”

Your head fell back, and the sound of your moans filled the entire room. Jongho leaned in, his teeth grazing your neck before biting down, marking you as his.

“Mine,” he growled possessively. “You’re fucking mine.”

"Y-yes," you cried, your hands clawing at his back as he drove you closer to the edge. “I’m yours, Jongho.”

He groaned, his pace never faltering as he reached between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit. The added stimulation sent you spiraling, your body tightening around him as your orgasm tore through you.

“That’s it,” he growled. “Cum for me, baby.”

And then, because the universe loved you so much, it happened; the door swung open. You froze, your body stiffening in sudden shock.

Hongjoong had just walked in.

“I-” Hongjoong started, his eyes locking onto the scene before him. He’d seen everything.

Jongho, with his grip firmly on your hips, didn’t even flinch at the intrusion. He was still deep inside you, and the moment he saw Hongjoong’s surprised face, he groaned lowly as his cock twitched inside you.

“Fuck,” Jongho growled, his body tensing as he gave a final, sharp thrust into you. His cock pulsed, and before either of you could react further, he came hard inside you, a low, guttural sound escaping him.

Hongjoong stood frozen in the doorway, his face flushed as he quickly averted his eyes, his hands still gripping the jacket he’d come in to deliver. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” He couldn't even finish his sentence, and he quickly placed the jacket on the counter, not daring to look at either of you again.

“Here,” he mumbled, his back turned to you as he moved to leave the room. “Jacket. I'll... leave you two to it.”

And just as fast as he arrived, he was gone again. You blinked a few times, trying to process what had just happened, and then you glanced up at Jongho.

“Did you just… cum while he saw us?” you asked.

Jongho blinked at you, his face still flushed from the intensity of the moment, and he paused, looking completely unbothered. “...No?” he said with a slight frown, as if he genuinely had no idea what you were talking about.

You stared at him for a moment, then burst into laughter, your entire body shaking. Jongho just stared at you, looking confused for a moment before he joined in, the sound of his laugh filling the room.

“Next time,” you said with a smirk while pulling him down to you again, “maybe let’s lock the door.”

[trishmishtree]

First sewing project of 2025 completed!

It's a Vicwardian shirtdress that kind of straddles the lines between historybounding and historical costuming and cosplay.

See, I have made 3-4 blouses/shirtwaists in this style now, and the most irritating thing about them is that they gradually get more and more untucked throughout the day until I'm left with a muffin top spilling over my skirts. So I figured, why not make one that's the bodice of a dress? That way, I can anchor the blouse part down to the waistband so it can't ride up and come untucked, and I can control how much it's allowed to blouse and keep it that way 24/7 since it's stitched down.

^See? Now I won't have to constantly adjust and re-adjust the gathering and pleating into the waistband or tug my shirttails down because I can feel the back of the blouse ballooning out again.

(Almost forgot to mention: yes, the skirt has giant Victorian-style pockets in the side seams. The dress was 99% hand sewn, mostly because I was working on it while out of town without access to my machine, but also because when I got home and tried to attach a facing to the pockets, my machine decided 3 layers of this shirting-weight cotton twill fabric was too much to handle and broke down. So thanks for that, pockets. Now I have to find a repair shop or replacement machine.)

And bonus: the skirt can be worn as is, or it can function as a petticoat under a separate skirt I can wear over the dress. If I make a floor-length walking skirt to wear over this shirtdress, and maybe a waistcoat and/or an Eton jacket, then I'll have a convincing enough 1890s-1900s ensemble for historical costuming purposes.

Oh, and in case you can't tell, the bodice design with the diagonal pintucks in the yoke is inspired by the outfit that Elphaba wears in her "The Wizard and I" sequence from the new movie. She wears this gauzy, crinkle chiffon-looking blouse under a black jumper dress, and the visible parts of the blouse look like they're bias cut, with some kind of pintucked or micro-pleated texture.

I basically spent the last month and change drooling over the costuming and wanting Elphaba's entire wardrobe. I don't think I'll be accurately recreating any of her actual costumes, but I like to think that my new shirtdress *could* potentially be something she'd wear.

Oh, and here's a detail of the lower sleeves on my dress. Elphaba's usually wearing all black, so the movie costumers played a lot with the texture of the fabrics on her clothing. They were inspired by mushrooms and other earthy textures, so her dresses have a more organic look than what I have going on here. I didn't have enough fabric to play around with, so I figured I'd just give honeycomb smocking a try, and I'm shocked at how well these sleeves preserve body heat in the winter.

Now all I need to do is make her hat and maybe sew a cloth facemask from green fabric and my 2025 office-appropriate Halloween costume will be good to go.

[silentcryracha]

❍ ‗ Sewing with I.N ‗ ❍

Pairing : Yang Jeongin x f reader

Summary : chapter eight of a cute standalone miniseries. It's what it says in the title

Genre/ Warnings : scenario/imagine/headcanon, drabble, fluff, no warning at all just so much fluff it's crazy

Word count : 1.52 k words (longest)

A/n : It's finished omg T-T look forward to my next full length (spicy) one shot with ayen <3

ps: There could be grammar errors. Do NOT repost on other socials. Leave feedback if you feel like it, otherwise enjoy! ♡︎

masterlist

series masterpost

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

One morning Jeongin was running around the living room in a rush to get downstairs, as his members and managers were there to pick him up to go to work.

"Bye cutie, see you l-" as soon as he bent down to give you a kiss, you heard a ripping noise. You both froze.

Jeongin instinctively slapped a hand on his ass as you quickly got up from the couch to look at the damage.

"Oh my gosh, inne let me look" you moved his hand as he started to jump up and down, impatient and anxious about being late.

Yep. There was a whole rip in his butt area in his jeans. They were literally baggy jeans, how old must have they been to rip? Maybe it was worn out?

"Quick, get out of them, I'll grab you another pair!" You exclaimed as you ran straight to his closet.

Fortunately, he took really good care of his wardrobe so it was very easy to find the pants. You grabbed a similar pair of jeans, then ran back.

You kneeled down, helping him one leg at a time, since he had like two bags on him and you were worried he would've tripped.

"You're a life saver, thank you my love" he leaned to kiss you, and succeed this time, as he buttoned and zipped up the pants.

That time, when he went out and you were left to chill at home on your day off, you decided to take a look at the actual damage and saw that it was not the denim that ripped, but rather the sewing coming undone for some reason.

You checked better, and of course you found the reason. Jeongin had cut the fabric tag way too close to the sewing and so after a while of wearing and pulling, they came undone.

Once you figured that the pants were fixable, you decided to surprise Innie and got to work. You took out your old sewing machine from the high space in your closet, then carefully picked a matching color for the thread.

About ten minutes later, the jeans looked brand new. You smiled proudly as you held them up in front of you, checking the front and the back. Not bad, you thought.

That evening, Jeongin came home tired and basically sleeping on his feet. He was exhausted.

"Aw, you're so tired, baby" you pouted as he rested his forehead on your chest. He nodded without answering, which made you giggle a bit. He was so cute.

"Have you eaten? It's a bit late so I hope you did" you asked, scratching his head lightly with your nails, to relax him.

"Something earlier. Just sleepy. Can we go to bed?" He spoke with a tired, slurry voice.

"That's good. Yes, we can. I just wanted to show you something-" you detached yourself and walked to the living room table, picking up and unfolding the jeans.

Jeongin watched your movements curiously. As soon as he saw the jeans, he focused his eyes, squinting a bit.

"I fixed them this morning. They were not ripped, the sewing came undone. Be careful not to cut the tag too short next time!" You smiled sweetly.

He took the pants from your hands and inspected them with a dimply smiled. He actually got a bit shy? Maybe it was the domesticity of it.

"They look brand new. You did such a good job, baby, thank you" he leaned closer and kissed your lips gently as a thank you.

The next time something similar happened, Jeongin came to you with a t-shirt. It was a casual, short sleeves graphic tee. Designer, of course.

"Y/nie, there's a little hole, right here, you see?" You walked closer and inspected the shirt yourself.

"Mhm yeah, I don't know how it would've gotten there, but it's totally fixable. Would you like me to fix it?" You asked.

He looked at you with love-filled eyes and shyly nodded. You kind of noticed his demeanor and that made you smile, too.

"Okay then. Trust me."

This time, you decided to dare a little and do something more. But based on how he seems to react, and honestly how good of a job you did, you were excited to show him the result.

He went out for a while to get some groceries and coffe for the both you, so when he came home you waited until he had his jacket off and he was comfortable.

"Jeonginnie" you called, purposefully acting cutesy. He sharpened his gaze in suspicion, but he had a playful smile on his lips.

"Yes?"

"I fixed the McQueen shirt" you suddenly pulled it out from behind your back, handing it to him. Just like a gift. He widened his eyes and mouth in shock.

"Wow, already?? You're the best, cutie, thank you so much." He kissed your lips as a thank you, which you welcomed gladly, but then encouraged him to check out your work.

And that's when he saw it. You didn't just fix the hole. You actually used some thicker, almost wool-like thread, and embroidered a small black heart, which matched perfectly with the black and white punk style of the shirt.

He looked at it in disbelief, smiling so wide his eyes turned into little half moons and his dimples came out cuter than ever.

"No way! You did this for me?" He lightly stroke the heart with his thumb, "It's so well done and it looks so good with the rest" he kept complimenting you.

You had a huge smile, giggling like a school girl. It was almost too much how stupidly in love you were.

"So you can have a little piece of me when you wear it" you replied sheepishly. At that point he just lost it, the cuteness aggression taking over him.

So he threw the shirt on the armchair and then launched himself at you, starting to pepper all your face and neck with kisses. Making as much noise as he could while you couldn't help but giggle, then laugh as he was tickling you.

From then on, if he happened to have some issue with his non-working clothes, he'd ask if you could fix them for him, instead of asking one of their staff like he would've had done before meeting you.

You happily complied every time you could manage, but some things sometimes weren't worth it, so he threw them away, or you recommend a more experienced seamstress to handle it.

But regardless, it had almost become your little thing. He quickly got interested in the process of sewing up/ embroidery and even knitting. He enjoyed the activity, as well as creating some silly things like a knitted version of a pokémon he liked, but mostly he loved spending time with you.

"Good morning my baby" he nuzzled his face in your hair, waking you up gently. You smiled, snuggling back into him.

"Mornin'" your sleepy voice replied. He smiled widely and told you to wait a second. You protested, stretching out your arm to try and keep him in bed, but eventually dropped it back on the mattress soundly.

Jeongin came back, still only wearing a pair of tracksuit pants, hiding something behind his back.

That peeked your interest, so you fully opened your eyes, waiting.

"The big stuff is gonna come later but...for now..." He teased, getting closer to the bed, then leaning forward with one knee on the mattress, "Happy birthday, my beautiful y/nie"

At that he revealed what he was hiding, which was a whole knitted winter hat, including a cute pompon at the top. You gasped as you sat up, snatching it from his hands.

"No way you made this!" You exclaimed, excited. He laughed.

"I had a good teacher" he smiled sweetly, "Do you like it? I know it's not perfect bu-" he couldn't even finish the sentence as you threw your arms around his neck, pulling him down to kiss you.

"Don't even say that! It's perfect, it's absolutely perfect. And my favorite colors too, oh I love you" you both had huge smiles.

"I love you, too. Happy birthday!"

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

[bomberqueen17]

sewing other things

OK so. I have talked about the Loftus Bralette so much on here that one could be forgiven for chuckling gently when i said I should sew other things. But I do actually have several other projects I've been wanting to work on. And i have actually cut some of them out.

Also when I was last at the farm my niece brought me some of her t-shirts and said "I really like this one can we cut it apart and re-sew it bigger so I can still wear it", and I remembered that her BFF's mom, who works at the farm twice a week doing the books and managing store inventory, owns a serger she didn't know how to thread, so I texted her to ask if I could borrow it and indeed she had accidentally unthreaded it and there was a stuck lever and needed me to fix it anyway, and maybe I mentioned that on here but I did actually make my niece a couple of tunics while I was last at the farm. Including hand-sewing a whole bunch of details on the last one while the family was driving on a road trip one weekend.

So I brought all that stuff home with me and was hoping to get to work on it this week. All I've sewn has been the bralettes but I still have today. We'll see what I can get done.

I measured Farmkid and she's ten years old so her shape isn't the same as that of an adult woman, but she's five feet two and like 130 lbs, and some of her measurements put her in a women's size 12. So. She expressed interest in a garment I wear frequently, a Studio Tunic from Sew Liberated. I printed off the pattern in a size 12 and have assembled it, but I'm stuck deciding what fabric to use for her. I should decide that today. She's ten, her favorite color is ostensibly yellow but she mostly wears pinks and purples, she's a grubby kid who wipes her hands on her shirt and always winds up with stains on the belly of her shirt still, and she wants this tunic I think largely so she can cram her tablet into the pocket and go climb trees while listening to audiobooks on speaker. So I want a bright color but not too pale, and I want a tough fabric but not unbreathable, and I'm just. Deciding, still.

Probably what I should do is use some undyed fabric I own, and then bring my supplies and let her tie-dye it. I have a couple other things I could tie-dye, or will by then. That would be a fun bonding activity. I don't know if I'll have time to do it this trip though. So maybe I'll postpone the project and ask her for help once she's on summer break. (Good luck catching her, kids these days have so many summer camps.) As a bonus I bet I could loop her BFF and BFF's Mom in on the tie-dyeing, they're both into that shit.

Hell we could do ice-dyeing, the farm has a 1000-lb ice machine that is very frequently turned on (weekly for the market, biweekly for chicken processing-- there could be ice available at pretty much any time lol).

So anyway. I know she wants me to make a tunic out of a trio of large-print cat shirts she's outgrown, and she wants to wear it for her 5th grade moving up day ceremony, and I looked at it while I was home but I haven't done it yet. I need to get my shit together.

What I might do is print off a size 12 version of the t-shirt pattern I own, it's just that it's designed for busty women because I'm a busty woman, and she's Not, yet (oh, she will be. soon. but not yet.) so I have to kind of. Well, I own a pattern for a swing tunic that's close to what she wants actually. Oh, I should just print that one off. (The joy of the Cashmerette Club subscription patterns is that you get all the sizes, 0-30, and I've now made a couple of them for smaller friends, because like. I mean I own the pattern! PDF patterns are so great because you can reprint them in the smaller size instead of trying to trace it off. I never ever got the hang of tissue paper patterns.)

Yeah here this one, the Wexford Top/Dress, would be easy enough to kind of carve out the bust curve a little and make it fit a kid, because it's not meant to be that fitted. I'll just sort of use that as a general guideline and then make the cut-out-and-patchworked t-shirts fit into that approximate silhouette. The way I made the other tunics for her, I just used a shirt whose neck and shoulders still mostly fit her. But these cat shirts she's thoroughly outgrown, so making a new neck/shoulder area would be best.

Orrrrrr.... I could use one of the zillion old t-shirts of mine that I've saved to cut up. The neck/shoulders of a fully adult-sized garment are no longer too big for her. That's easier.

I also have a bunch of garments I want to make for myself, as I don't seem to buy clothes much anymore (I can't bring myself to pay $40 for a dress off the clearance rack that won't fit me and will mostly be polyester and won't be that interesting and will pill the first time I wash it). The Club's latest pattern is a skort/shorts/skirt dealie, and I need more shorts all the time-- I've largely given up on underpants and just wear boxer-briefs or anti-chafe shorts and I just don't see the point now of wearing a pair of panties and then shorts over the top under my skirt. Like. Just wear the shorts! So being able to choose the materials and print and look of that would be pretty great. And the Cashmerette one is inseam-less, like my favorite anti-chafe shorts are.

So I have cut out a pair of just the shorts in a clearance cotton mesh from Dharmatrading, and I even have the correct elastic for the waistband, so that kind of rules. I will sew those up as soon as I get a chance. I would like to make several skorts as well, probably from synthetic ponte or something, but my ideal would be to get some decent merino/nylon jersey and do a few from that. You never see merino skorts but I would wear the shit out of those.

I also have a lovely underpants pattern from the Club from ages ago, and while I rarely wear underpants of that style anymore, I would like having some cute matchy ones to go with the bralettes. Also, I have a shitton of foldover elastic, and I suspect I could use foldover elastic in some of the bralettes I want to make, so I want to get proficient in its use, and there are directions for applying it in the underpants directions, and it seems like a good way to practice. So I cut a muslin of those from the same cotton mesh as the shorts, and just have to sew the pieces together.

I also want to make myself more pretty dresses, and I have parts of a new Studio Tunic for myself already cut out, but not the rest.

And I recently made myself the button-up shirt from the Club, I know I posted about it on here. And I wanted to immediately make myself several more, and I got out some fabric and prepared it and cut out one pattern piece and then ran out of time. So yesterday I finally cut out the rest of the shirt from this fabric, a print from Mood covered in tiny dinosaurs. So I have that all ready to go in a plastic baggie too, just waiting for me to have time to sit and sew it. (Once I do that, I would really like to make myself a dress version of it from the cool green not-quite-seersucker I got from that remnant bolt at Promenade Fabrics in New Orleans.)

AND. i also have resolved to make my BFF, the one in Rochester who I lived with for a bit in the pandemic, with the little kids-- MM-- I am going to make her a sloper, before I see her next weekend, or maybe while I see her next weekend if i don't get to it in time argh, and I am going to at least try that on her and figure out approximately what shape she is so that I can put together a master pattern for her to make herself dresses from. I took her measurements ages ago, and she's a 14CD bust, a 16 waist, and an 8 hip in Cashmerette's sizing, and so I think just making a sloper with those sizes all graded together will be a huge start. And then we can mildly tweak the fit for her frame, and-- the thing is, she's always buying custom dresses on Etsy because what she wants is very specific and not usually available in stores, and then the dresses come and don't fit her so she has to get them tailored, and then they were just made of cheap quilting cotton from Joann's so they wear out after she washes them a few times, and she's had to add on pockets anyway because they didn't have them.

So I just feel like if I could get her a paper master pattern that fit her... heck i could even just make her dresses if *I* had the pattern. It would be easier and more efficient. I could do the basic construction and then turn over the pockets and embellishments to her, which is what she does anyway. So that's my goal there, and we'll see if I can reach it.

Anyway. If only I didn't have to work at all and could just sew all the time. I am not the first person to say this, LOL.

I have a lot of irons in the fire but at the moment am trapped under a cat so those irons are not going anywhere.

[kittiestcarpet]

ive decided that ill ask my mom for a sewing machine (she let me choose something to make me happy so i would stop skipping classes -- ITS WORKING!!) so, when i get the sewing machine (december probably) and if we're hopefully still friends , I'll make sometging nice for yuo (if you dont want it [since it would mean id have to know ur address and that owuld be kinda ehhh...] ill make something for myslrf that reminds me of yuo because ur coollllll))))))

and i was thinking of what i could possibly make, i need ideas... :') but maybe a headband/hraddress? idk if thats the rivht word bht look!!!1!1!1

EUUGHHGH THAT'S SO DAMN KEWL!!!! UHHHH I'LL ADMIT I'M ACTUALLY NOT THE BEST AT IDEAS EITHER... ALTHOUGH I ALSO WANTED TO SEW STUFF IN THE PAST TOO... T______T But yeah, a headdress sounds pretty pawsome! I also have a cat plushie sewing pattern if you'd want it LOL

[mycraftingjourney]

Introduction post

I wanted to give a bit of an introduction to why I'm here, what I'm doing and so on.

tl;dr: I like clothes and I'm into sustainability, so I started (visible) mending a few month or so ago. I also crochet, although not as much as I'd like to, and I dabble a bit in embroidery. My goal is to kind of document my journey with these crafts and maybe inspire people to give some of these a try.

I'd also love to talk about all things (visible) mending, crochet, embroidery and fiber arts in general and share the knowledge I have / point people who want to start to some resources that helped me.

I've been into fashion/clothes and styling them on and off for a big part of my life. A few years ago, I also got into sustainability, learning about how buying new fast fashion damages our planet and exploits other human beings, and what may be good alternatives.

This path, inevatibly, lead down to getting curious about mending. I learned basic sewing skills when I was a child, but I never altered any clothes and apart from a few tiny things never mended anything.

However, this year, I wanted to change that. I've heard about visible mending before and I really liked it. I had a pair of jeans when I was a teenager that was patched (by someone else) that was my favourite pair. Unfortunately, I managed to ruin it beyond repair and also grew out of it, but this stuck with me. I always liked to express myself creatively, and in recent years, what I wear has become a big part of that. The idea that by visibly mending my clothes I express my passion for sustainability feels really good (and punk!) to me. The idea of altering clothes that I don't currently love but could love if something about them was changed is also a nice one.

I only darned my first sock a few months ago. My goal with this blog is to share this first darn as well as the progress I make, because I want to encourage other people. You don't have to make perfect mends to be sustainable. On the contrary, mend imperfectly, mend messy, but DO MEND. Even if you'll have to redo it at one point, when you have more skill, even if you don't end up redoing it and instead use that piece of clothing for something else, you still gave it another wear, or two, or three (or fifty) - and that's what this is all about.

I tend to be an extreme perfectionist and it's hard for me to deal with a situation where I'm not perfect at a first try. Surprise surprise, I am not when it comes to mending, or embroidery, or crochet, or anything at all really. But I'm trying to let that go and concentrate on what I achieve rather than what I did "wrong" or imperfectly. I want to share my messy bits and the things I'm proud of, and I want to update how the mends I did held up. As i mentioned above, I hope that maybe I'll inspire some people to pick up a needle as well. Even if you "only" fix that button or a ripped up seam. Every mend counts!

When I get into altering or even making clothes, I will share those projects too, but that will have to wait a bit since I don't currently have any space to put up my sewing machine and I do simply not have the energy nor patience to hand sew bigger things.

Apart from mending I also crochet. Talking more about that feels like a bit of an overkill here, I'll make a new post for that.

Recently I also started to embroider, with the idea of using embroidery in my (visible) mending and to embellish clothes. Here again I decided on a project where I just start and don't try to be perfect from the beginning on, I'll share more about that as well as my crochet project(s) soon.

I think this should be enough for the moment with the introduction. One thing about me, as you probably got by now, is that I'm really bad at being brief with my writing. I have no idea how often I will manage to make posts on here due to work and life, but I will try to do them quiet regularly, as well as sharing things I see that might be helpful / interesting / that inspire me. I also think I'll probably only write more for bigger projects but also just share stuff I'm working on / finished recently.

Maybe I'll also share other DIYs that are not really crafts/fiber arts related but I think are cool.

This isn't my main blog (thats @merryfromthestars), so if I follow I follow from there.

I'm also always open to questions, discussions etc. so just send me an ask or dm if you want! Just, I might take a moment to answer them, because life and work :) I'm excited to see where this journey takes me, and I hope some people will come along and maybe get inspired.

[brilla-brilla-estrellita]

Crafting Wings

I finally remembered today that tumblr is a blog, and that in addition to whatever fandom nonsense I reblog, I can also post bloggy things on it. Obvious, right?

I am making a set of dragon wings for an event coming up in mid-June. They are of course inspired by Simon Snow and will be red dragon wings (though the pattern I bought from them is technically for a wyvern). I'm hoping that posting progress updates here will help me stick to it and actually get it done in time. I'm breaking it down into teeny tiny easy peasy steps and only looking at the very next step to try to keep the overwhelm and executive dysfunction at bay. This is likely to lead me down a path of "If I'd thought about it earlier, I could have..." But you know what? I always end up there anyway.

So first, I spent a long long long long long (long long long...) time trying to decide how to make these wings. I really wanted articulated wings, bonus if I could move them without obviously pushing or pulling or something. But looking at how people had made that happen was overwhelming. They require so much time and skill and I am prone to procrastination and crying and quitting when I mess up. I finally settled on this DIY Mechanical Wing kit by Chimera Wings. That would give me the frame for the wings, but they also have a sewing pattern (with printed AND video instructions) to make the covers for them!

This is what the contents of the kit looked like when I got it:

And this is the completed build! I almost didn't post this because I don't like the way I look, but you know what? Fuck that. I built something cool (using very simple, easy-to-follow instructions, sure) and I don't want to have to find a better fancier more flattering way to film that, so. I'm getting over it.

You can tell that I kinda struggle with the wing on my right side. I clearly need to stretch my arms out before wearing these. Truly. I tried it after I stretched and it's no big deal. Or maybe I'll add some sort of pulley after all. (HAH. Like I'll have time for that.)

Otherwise, the kit and wings are fantastic. It was so easy to put together and they feel very cool to wear. I should probably go write them a review...

I didn't actually takes pics of the next step, but I printed out the pattern on regular 8.5x11 paper and taped it together. It... was not very well done, but I'm hoping I got it close enough to not have messed up the pattern dimensions. After taping and then cutting out the completed pattern, I could move on to working with actual fabric!

I'm making a mock-up out of old sheets first because I have never once done any sewing project successfully the first time. I decided to mock-up only one wing instead of both, so this will surely be my downfall when I move onto the real deal.

The next two pictures are the front and back pieces for a single wing. I decided to cut them separately instead of at the same time by folding the fabric in half because every time I do more than one layer at a time, at least one of the layers comes out real fucked up. I blame being a lefty in a right-handed world. Scissors are of the devil.

The next step was to make buttonholes that are actually strap holes. I have a little baby basic machine, and it has some limitations. I discovered one of these limitations during my buttonhole test runs. As you can see, the machine-provided "buttonhole" stitches are just... lacking. I messed with a screw that controls the length of these stitches, but for some reason it can only be used to balance out the stitch lengths, not make them overall longer or shorter. I have no control for generally change stitch length. I only have the options presented to me on my stitch chooser knob. Alas, I have less than optimal buttonholes.

Pictured above: (Left) One very sad buttonhole test. (Right) A second buttonhole test in which one side is almost respectable and the other should be ashamed to call itself a buttonhole stitch.

Finally, I gave up and balanced the stitch lengths and just went with it. When I do the real deal, I will likely go use my friend's much fancier machine. For the mock-up, this is sufficient. The next three pictures show, with increasing zoom and blurriness, the completed buttonholes.

I am intentionally using very bright, contrasting thread so that when I inevitably fuck up, I can hopefully see the point of fuck up more clearly so as to rectify it on my next attempt.

And that brings us up to speed! Next Step: Pin the pieces together. That's it. That's the whole step. How many days will it take to overcome executive dysfunction and do it? Only time will tell.

As long as I can remember to update regularly, future posts should be quite short.

[healthilyathome]

Things on My Crunchy Mom Baby Registry

Crib- I was going to do a bassinet and then transition to a floor bed when he got too big, then I thought we'd bedshare. Now we've decided to do a sidecar crib where we set it up right next to our bed with no rail between us so I can reach him.

Bottle Nipples- We're going to use mason jars as bottles so I'm just getting nipples. There are a few brands that fit regular mouth mason jars. He'll only get maybe one bottle a day so my husband can have that time with him. He'll be mostly exclusively breast fed so I'm only getting a few.

Manual breast pumps- Like I said I'll be mostly feeding him "from the tap" 😂 but I want to get a Haakaa and Boon Trove to catch letdown on the side he doesn't nurse and build my stash that way so meyhusband can do feedings. They're also good for helping with clogged ducts and whatnot so there's that too.

Silicone pouches- Store bought baby food and applesauce pouches have microplastics since they're generally pasteurized in the pouch. I don't plan on doing purees, but applesauce is an easy snack on the go I still eat as an adult 😂

Cloth diaper inserts- I plan to cloth diaper so my mom is actually sewing me all of my diapers, but I told her I'd take care of buying inserts since 30 diapers is a lot lol. I plan on doing a mix of pockets and covers so I'm getting flats and prefolds mostly.

Cloth wipes- To go with the cloth diapers I'm going to try cloth wipes. I figure it shouldn't be much more laundry and they can be used as cleaning rags in like 10 or so years when I'm done having kids (or saved for them to use).

Wet bags- These are for the diapers and wipes until wash day. I might get a hamper or something to put it in like you do with trash bags and bins, but I also might just have a bag sitting 😂.

Diaper sprayer- I'm not convinced I need this, but I've heard it makes spraying 💩 off diapers easier.

SO. MANY. BOOKS.- My mom is a librarian and reading is just really important to my husband and I so the majority of my registry is books 😂. Most of them are physical books, but I do have a Yoto player and some cards to go with it. A Yoto player is basically an audiobook machine, and the one I'm getting works as a clock as well.

Baby wraps/carriers- I plan to baby wear pretty much all day so I have lots of carrier types so I can have him with me all the time. I plan to contact nap and I don't want to be forced to lay down with him lol.

Sleep sacks- It can get pretty cold where I live and my husband likes to keep the house cooler anyway, so since he can't have a blanket I'll have these.

Adjustable high chair- Dangling feet can mess with their hips so I'm making sure to get a high chair that lets me adjust where the foot rest is so his feet are flat on it.

Car seat with a high rear facing limit- It's best to wait until they max out their car seat's rear facing limits to switch them so I'm getting one that goes up to 50lbs.

Washable play mat- For diaper changes, tummy time, and sensory bins when he's older. The one I'm getting also makes a great picnic blanket.

That's pretty much it besides a few teethers, clothes, and bath/health items. I could change my mind and decide other things are worth it later, but this is all I feel is necessary right now.

Things I'm NOT putting on my registry coming soon 🥰.

[sheliesshattered]

The last several days have been all about getting through the top-stitching for my Batuu vest. When I decided to do this, it seemed like a simple finishing step -- and it wasn't difficult at all, just time consuming. Worth it, achieved the look I was hoping for, but felt like it took forever.

I also had to finally make a decision about adding a little stand up collar to the back half of the neckline, but after playing around with some scrap pieces and holding them up to myself in the mirror, I decided I actually like the look of the vest better without a collar -- and it'll interfere less with my hooded wrap, too. I didn't take a picture of the back neckline until after all the top-stitching was done, but now that it's all finished it looks like this:

But back to the top-stitching! With the lining and the exterior attached to each other last week, doing the top-stitching around the edges was easy, but even for a fairly small vest it just seemed to go on and on, lol. Once that was done, I had to carefully line up all seams so that the lining and exterior matched before I could top-stitch around the seams. That process was time consuming too, requiring a lot of precision pinning and re-pinning, and in the middle of it I ran out of thread and had to wait for more to be delivered.

I also had to stop each of the lines of top-stitching about an inch shy of the armscyes, so that I would have wiggle room to carefully line up the lining and exterior layers of the armscyes, too. Getting the armscyes to match involved a lot of re-folding and ironing and pinning, but I was finally able to top-stitch the two layers together, hiding the lace hem tape that I'd previously finished the armscyes with. Only then was I able to finish the top-stitching along the seams up to the edge with the armscyes.

In every place where the top-stitching along the seams came to the top-stitching along the edges, I was careful not to cross that line, just come right up to it. It's a tiny detail that no one will ever notice, but I think it adds to the tailored look of the vest.

I also didn't want to do any back-stitching or have any place in the top-stitching with two stitches stacked on top of each other, so I had to tie off each line of stitching and then hide the long ends of the threads inside the space between the exterior and the lining. That was worthwhile, and not too obnoxious for the long stretches of top-stitching. But filling in all those ~1" long gaps I'd left around the armscyes created a ton of thread ends to deal with. 32 in total, if my off-the-top-of-my-head math is right, but it certainly felt like more while I was working my way through each fiddly step.

But the end result is super clean and even I can't pick out where one line of stitching ended and the next one picked up. And with that, all the machine sewing on the vest is DONE!

The vest is totally wearable as-is, but sewing on some hooks and eyes will help the overlap and underlap flaps stay in place, so I think it's worth doing. The interesting looking hooks and eyes I ordered arrived and will be perfect for my needs, I think.

While I had good amount of daylight today, I tried the vest on with my Jyn Erso sweatshirt and the leather-look leggings I'll be wearing with the outfit, and used pins to mark out where I want the two most important clips to sit -- the one at the underbust, and the one just above the end of the zipper at the midbust. The spacing of those two will decide the spacing for the rest of the hooks and eyes.

In the pic below I have the hooks and eyes sitting on top of the placement for the underbust pair, but most of these will be hidden under the overlap. Though, hmm, now that I've said that, maybe I should play around with keeping these visible? Hmm.

I also used pins to mark where the edges of the overlap end, including at the upper corner. I'm going to attach a hook and eye there so that I can close the overlap all the way up, but mostly I'll just let that bit hang open (like the roguish scoundrel that I am). Even if I hide the rest of the hooks and eyes, the exposed pair will be a bit of texture and realism, without breaking the no-visible-zippers-in-Star-Wars rule.

The actual hand-sewing of each hook and eye shouldn't take too long, but getting them all placed is going to be the difficult part. To get everything to lay smooth, I may have to try the vest on to get the placement correct. I'm really happy with how it looks currently, but I think the hooks and eyes will really add that last finishing touch.

Besides the vest, I'm continuing to work on attaching the pleated panel to Jack's jacket, little by little. I am nearly through the most difficult part in the middle of the sleeve where I have to stick my whole arm into the sleeve from both directions just to move the needle through the fabric. My experience with the first sleeve was that the last stretch went much faster once I got past that annoying section. Hopefully I can finish the whole thing in the next day or two.

I've been thinking a bit about how I might be able to cover the buckle of my belt and the lacings of my Doc Martens, but it really depends on how much time (and hand strength, after all the hand-sewing) I have left when the vest and the jacket are done. As I write this, Wednesday is winding down, and we'll be wearing these outfits on Tuesday next week, so the sooner I can get the big pieces finished up, the better.

[continent-of-wild-endeavor]

I opened up the foot pedals for the two vintage sewing machines to get the crud & dust out, & see if the wiring looked suspicious, and was surprised to find they are completely different on the inside. Top goes to the Japanese-made, older (early 50s), simpler machine, while bottom is the space-age Singer ('61, model 500A).

The top one swings that bar across a series of, I guess, connection points, when you press the pedal, so I imagine it'll do discrete speeds. The block it's all set in is damaged in a couple places, so I suspect the milk cap (Borden's; it has the cow on top) is structurally necessary to keep everything in place.

The lower one seems like it'll produce an unbroken gradation of speeds, since pressing the pedal mechanism moves that center bit smoothly towards the two copper plates. It never actually touches them, though, and I have no idea how it would work. There's a screw on the other end of the yellow block, so it can probably be opened up to look inside, but when I loosened it I got the impression things were gonna fall out or get misaligned or something, so it's still a mystery (for now).

Another fascinating subject to research! I really want to understand how these work, because it'll be useful but also/mainly because it'll be fun. Their basic function must be to regulate how much electricity gets from the wall socket to the motor in the machine*, but both just what "how much electricity" means (ie which measurement, is it how many electricities there are, or how hard you push them) and how exactly they control it are things I'll have to wrap my head around.

I'm gonna take the modern Brother machine's foot pedal apart, too, to see what it's like.

*The motor then turns the electricity into rotation, in a process that I understand maybe 30%. There are magnets involved, and when I asked J how the magnets/electromagnets do what they do in there, like why they have that effect, he said that was getting into the fundamental physics of the universe, so I decided to just accept it for now.

The rotation runs the whole machine, being very cleverly turned into assorted finely-calibrated motions through a series of shafts & joints. The newer machine also has a few gears, and an ingenious stack of cams, so it can do a lot more motions.

Also did you know that a motor and a generator are the same thing, just in reverse? When you buy one, it's designed to conveniently do one thing or the other, but they really can function either way around. Rotate a motor by hand, and you're producing electricity. A gas generator, like we've been running our well pump on for two days, turns explosions into rotation, and that rotation into electricity. You could also put electricity into it, and it would produce rotation, which you could theoretically attach something to, and use that mechanical energy. Your car engine does pretty much the same thing, using the rotation to run some parts directly, and the electricity for others.

[yupuffin]

ALL RIGHTY, the end of 2024 is approaching, which means it's time to start thinking about what I'd like to do in 2025...

Since moving, I haven't logged into Genshin Impact except to pull Zhongli and grab Neuvillette's birthday letter, and... I don't feel like I'm missing much, so we'll see if I'm still interested in the upcoming Lantern Rite. (I mean, it's Lantern Rite.) Genshin definitely feels like a game that would be fun to go back and visit after a break. And out of the games I've played, it's definitely up there in terms of what I like from gameplay. I just think it peaked in Sumeru, Fontaine was also pretty great, and... Natlan hasn't really kept my interest as much. We got to Ororon and after that I feel like I'm kind of done for the time being 😂

I also have hardly touched Twitter and the social media platforms that are supposed to be its replacements (and again, not felt like I've missed much), in favor of remaining on Tumblr, so... if you're reading this, congrats! You'll probably continue to hear from me. Which means you get all of my unhinged thoughts. 😆

As for creative projects and hyperfixations and such...

I'm still thinking about ice skating. I doubt I'll ever be able to take lessons or anything that serious, but in my current casual situation, the level of exertion is in a sweet spot for me where I can tell I'm exercising but I don't noticeably exhaust myself (which is an extremely difficult balance to strike, with my lungs how they are). So I can see it becoming a regular activity for me, especially now that the holiday rush is over and I'm going back to getting off work on time.

Which brings me to my second hyperfixation: Sunday!

I made an impulse decision to commission my friend for a cosplay wig, with the rationale that, worst case scenario, I functionally just gave my friend money (rather than it disappearing into the pocket of some corporation). And I trust experienced wig stylists with the quality of the wig more than I trust any mass-produced cosplay sale website with dubious low prices, especially given Sunday's halo situation and my hesitation on how that would logically attach to the wig. So, I'm more confident that issue will be taken care of in this case! Said friend isn't making the wings, which means I get to take myself on a date to the craft store to look at my material options and decide how I want to make them myself. I'll have to replace some of my crafting tools since I ditched basically all of them when I moved. But I think if I've made as many fursuits and cosplays as I have, I should have no problem figuring out how to put together a pair of wings. 👀

Which, in turn, brings me to my cosplans for 2025...

I've gone back and forth on them a lot, as I tend to do with cosplans. I'm on the fence about potentially cosplaying Sunday in his full outfit, so I'll lend more thought to that decision. In the meantime, I think I'll stick with my original plans to make Scar next. I debated making Rosado first, but, given how small my new space is, I just don't have the motivation to make a cosplay that involves any sort of armor right now, so I think I'll keep Rosado casual for the time being (now that, as of a month or so ago, I am in possession of a single skirt). I can see myself wanting to make another Fire Emblem cosplay after that, though, especially to keep with my current pattern of alternating difficult, more complex builds with simpler, easier ones. Maybe Inigo or Shigure. Or perhaps I'll go back and upgrade some of my current cosplays that are in need of new pieces.

First, I need to obtain a desk on which to place my sewing machine. 🤣 (Also something I originally had but had to leave behind, as it was too large for me to carry by myself, let alone up and down stairs.)

As for other creative projects... maybe I'll indulge in my OCs a bit more? This whole Wuthering Waves OC thing has been quite fun. 🤔 But I also have renewed interest in my Star Rail projects with the arrival of Sunday, so I'll probably work on those a bit as well.

[kris10theawkward]

pov: it's 12:47 am, and you've decided what pants you *want* to wear for your 9-5 tomorrow, but they need a seam redone.

"No worries", you think to yourself, "I'll just start up my handy sewing machine! It'll just take a few moments and I can go right to bed".

You sit down at the sewing machine (a model your mother has told you has a history of starting house fires so she made you promise to leave it unplugged unless you're using it) and pinch the plug between your toes. A 75° clockwise turn of your foot has it lined up perfectly with the outlet and before you know it your eyes are squinting at the outpouring of light from the tiny bulb in the sewing machine. Awesome. You pick up the closest scrap fabric to you: a pair of old sweatpants that needed a similar seam fix but instead of doing that you picked at the thread running all the way down both legs to the cuffs of the pants that remain somewhat disturbingly intact as their seam is elsewhere. You lower the foot onto the remains of the sweatpants and tentatively push the pedal. As always you didn't apply enough pressure to start the machine so you crank the dial just a little to give it an extra push. Suddenly your white sweatpants have funky red loops along where the stitches should be. Oh. Oops. No top thread.

"Well, that's no big deal, I'll just thread the needle. I remember how to do that. " Picking up the red thread to match the bobbin (to patch the blue pants, but it's fine, no one will see it), you weave the needle through the machine by memory. It's difficult as you managed to slice your index and middle finger on the foil fused to the plastic tub of vegan yogurt you opened earlier. It caused a whole food prep disaster as bleeding into the yogurt would stop it from being vegan yogurt (a thought that amused you greatly), and you had to put away your food prep for later.

Now all that's left to do is thread the needle. You remember for a moment how easy threading needles is for you and how hard it is for everyone else. Feeling confident, if not a little superior, you begin gently prodding the needle with the thread. Your fingers protest, but you ignore it. This should be easy, right? We do this all the time. You cut the string to make a better threading end. Second time's the charm. You lean slightly forward and to your right and look through the needle. You're dismayed to find out the deeper cut on your middle finger is messing with your ability to visualize the thread through the eye of the needle, an important part of the second attempt ritual.

By the fourth time, you get it. That dude with the boulder and the hill has nothing on threading a red thread through a needle with a cut. You try on the sweatpants again. The machine squeaks, maybe it's nothing? You turn the dial just a little, and it's sewing, but it doesn't sound great. The thread snaps. It's definitely the bobbin, so you tilt the machine to open her up, but she's doing just fine. When you pull the thread, she moves clockwise. Now you're feeling for the notch where the bobbin arm goes. Gosh, this works better when your fingers are whole. Got it. The bobbin makes a satisfying click sound. Must be the top thread then. You un-thread the needle and steps leading up to it. You pick up the spool, and thread is wrapped around the post several times under it. Hmm. You go through your steps again to thread the machine, and the needle is just as tricky. Now you're thinking about other things that compare to this task. Maybe it's not purgatory. Maybe it's "you never know hard until." You try the pedal again with the same squeaking as before. The thread breaks. Okay, time to rtfm. You're turning pages as delicately as possible. This book is older than you are, and you just made the cutoff to be a millennial. Topic 9, page 20. God, this is embarrassing. You've used this machine at least twice, you should just psychically know how to thread the damn thing. You start to undo what you did and notice the post under the spool is all wrapped up again. You realize (finally) this means the spool is upside down. You follow the steps in the manual to thread the machine, and you could swear they changed since the last time you did them. Threading the needle takes even longer this time as if the nimbleness of the fingers is diminished by the multiple previous attempts and the superficial wounds. Finally, you thread the needle and sew a zigzag then straight line on the sweats. You're ready for pants! You pull the seam flat (who has time for pins) and bunch up the inside- out waistband next to the neck of the sewing machine. You stretch the seam up again, using no pins, it's pretty susceptible to jostling. You drop the foot and push the pedal, tracing the old seam that contains a seam running perpendicular. The needle snaps. You think to yourself this is probably time to embrace your mediocre talents in handsewing, except you're not sure where the handsewing needle is. It's usually in the box with the straight pins. You joke to yourself that a haystack would probably be easier to search than a box of pins. You go to put away the sweatpants because hey, at least you tried, but you find the needle somehow and inexplicably on your thigh. You figure it's a sign and pull off the spool that's finally on the right way and prepare it for sewing. You think about Bernadette Banner and how she hates machine stitching. You think about the etymology of the word trump as a verb. You think about your creator, well, not really. You're actually thinking of Dan Howell and how he made you this way parasocially. You think about what Dan Howell might be up to, but you're not curious enough to look it up. It's 1:15 and you're done with the pants.

[itsthatgirlme]

The put-put-puttttt of sewing machines has me so amazed by life.

Just like a piece of fabric I feel my life is being stitched back slowly, piece by piece, stitch by stitch.

The pieces of fabric being sewn by family, God, and society. I apparently was going down a dark path that I still don't see as dark. I wasn't sure what happened. I'm still not sure what happened.

But I feel I'm supposed to wear this face and present myself to the world as the world wants. A fad. A temporary piece that will go out of style in a couple years. Maybe in a dumpster in a few years. Who knows.

Just like these fabrics I am breathing, stretched, and a project that feels will never end.

I never thought I'd be sitting in a university costume shop feeling like I'm getting played. Like the clothes the workers are working on are representations of not only them, but myself. A project, a test, and scraps to be worked with. Where it all ends with being graded.

They complain about a professor striving for perfection in every stitch and cut. Yet, stay here for hours striving for that level of acceptance. I used to want that level of acceptance, but so much has changed for me. In my life, who is my professor? God. But God knows I can't be perfect. So unlike being graded on a curve, trying to get the approval of a human, a school, a society, I just want to be accepted by God.

I don't see God the way other's do. I see him as allowing us to sin but giving us the choice to decide if we want to sin or not. But regardless of what we do, He loves us still. Does that make sense? It almost feels like when a mom let's a child touch something that will hurt them but they allow it in order for them to learn. The image of a mother whose child murdered someone but at the end of the day SHE is their mother. THAT level of acceptance and forgiveness is God for me.

This notion that He's black or white isn't for me. God is grey, great, gracious, and grand.

I feel everyone strives for this idea that God is green, greedy, and will hold you accountable for every single thing.

Which he will! But it's not that scary. Like that mother or father that remembers all the silly little lies we tell, yes, but unlike our father or mothers on this earth, He will allow and see the bigger picture of things. Something I struggle with my parents now.

They don't understand how over time our relationship has changed because of my relationship with God and time. How I would prefer hearing the wheels of a low funded department sewing machine to being trapped in a room. Not only that, but hearing degrading things about my body, my thoughts, actions, but of others. I'd prefer being in a room of strangers than in a home where I feel I'm constantly combating evil mindsets. Being safe doesn't comfort me anymore. I prefer the stability.. of my brain, that I was gifted with, to anything else.

The clarity that I feel and the intuition that something great is coming is worth every bad thing I've ever been through. Knowing something good is coming to me is what motivates me every day to just exist.

Again, I never saw myself sitting in a costume shop, let alone at the university's, but life has been wild and almost feels planned. I'll keep my guard up, but I'm okay allowing things to just happen.

Why did sewing start with a friend who doesn't message me anymore? Why did sewing put me into the arms of a man who loves creating clothes? Why did sewing and clothes bring me where I am? I don't know. I still question it all and ask myself if its genuine, if it's for life, but that intuition that I speak of makes me feel like it's all for something.

God is sew cool.

[notes-from-the-neath]

Introduction

Who are you?

This journal details the experiences of the lady known as Doctor Amphelite as she becomes better acquainted with the city of Fallen London and the Neath.

"Amphelite"?

Am-FELL-ih-tay, if you please.

Why are you here in London?

One hears all sorts of strange stories from those who have returned from Fallen London, and despite every last one of them having been soundly rebutted by modern scientific means... one does wonder, when the stories have such consistency in very key elements.

And if one happens to have an inquisitive mind, and lacks... a driving motivation to stay upon the Surface in the face of such curiosities...

Well. If nothing else, Fallen London will no doubt come with different trials than those which were left behind.

And what are you planning to do?

For the time being? Observe. Learn to separate truth from tale.

The future is always in motion, and it would be foolish to make complex plans as a newcomer to the city. Once matters are more secure... we shall see.

=======

About the author

The author of this blog played Fallen London a little in the past, but long enough ago that I'd completely lost track of any plans I had for my old account. Because of that, I decided to start off from scratch and make something of a story of what Amphelite makes of her time down here.

I don't have any particular plans for her at present, so am just going to see how she naturally develops from my initial concept - a somewhat lonely academic, with a soft spot for children and a romantic streak she's not quite willing to admit to, who travelled to the Neath to find if it would have a place for her. I'm really excited to see where it all goes!

In terms of more personal stuff, I'm in my late twenties, am based in the UK, and am actually an academic myself - I have a doctorate in astrophysics. My day job is unlikely to make much of an appearance in Amphelite's life (as far as I know), but it definitely comes with the tendency to fall deep into research holes, so maybe expect a few of those! I also love a bit of historical costuming (although lack a sewing machine to try making stuff of my own), so a few bits of outfit inspiration might eventually make their way here.

I'm aiming to do a weekly round-up of what Amphelite's been up to, both to get into the roleplay aspect of FL and in the hopes of remembering what on earth I was up to if I get distracted for a few weeks or months. I'll be tagging all of the diary entries as #amphelite's journal so I don't clutter up the Fallen London tag.

Thanks for stopping by!