#the year before was straight up just learning how to use a sewing machine

[unnaturalceilings]

Every year I know what I want to be for Halloween by like, August

And every year I wait til October to actually commit to making it

[fairykukla]

The sewing machine advice post.

Here's an introduction to sewing machines, from someone who has gone from "making costumes with a busted old machine I bought at a thrift store" to "Teaching how to care for your sewing machine as a living."

Read the manual. Can't find it? Don't have it? There are lots of PDFs online. The manual is going to tell you important things like which way to insert the bobbin and how to thread the machine. It will also tell you what kind of bobbin to use.

Get some more bobbins. The machine needs a bobbin that is wound with the same thread you plan to sew with. There are situations where you can use two different threads, but while you're learning, use the same kind of thread above and below. Follow the manual's instructions to properly wind a bobbin, and only wind one thread at a time on each bobbin.

Change the needle. I have a whole other helpful post about what kind.

When you put thread on the machine, follow each step and make sure the Presser Foot is in the "up" position before you start.

Right before you thread the needle, pull the thread to make sure it moves freely and isn't caught anywhere. Then, lower the presser foot, and pull again. It should be very tight. (If it is not tight with the foot down, raise the foot and re-thread the machine from the beginning.)

Find and get to know the Take-Up Lever. It goes up and down faster than the needle, and kinda looks like a dinosaur head. The thread has to be settled in the eye of the take up lever or your machine won't make a good stitch. It will go "stitch stitch stitch clunk bang stop." If the thread isn't in the take up lever, re-thread the machine.

You're going to spend a lot of time re-threading your machine. Gird your loins, and be prepared to do this.

Make sure you insert the bobbin correctly. Follow the manual. Once it is set in the bobbin case, the thread should pull tightly, not freely.

Your control of the fabric happens before the needle goes into it; your hands should be in front of the needle, not behind it. Don't pull the fabric from the back. Just guide the fabric from the front; don't push it or overdrive. Try using one finger on each hand to just keep the fabric straight while the machine feeds the fabric through.

If the fabric won't feed through properly, take the metal needle plate (AKA Throat plate) off and clean between the pointy bits that stick up through the needle plate. Those are the feed dogs and lint collects between them under the plate. Keep that area clear of lint and dust.

If the machine still won't feed properly, take it to a service technician. There may be a feed timing problem.

THE HAT TRICK: If you have a problem with the machine, do these three things:

Remove the bobbin, check it over. If the thread isn't wound on it properly, or if it's cracked or bent or rusty, it might be bad. Replace it if necessary.

Change the needle. Make sure the needle is inserted in the correct direction and that it is indeed inserted completely. (Choose the correct needle, too.)

Re-Thread the machine from the beginning. Make sure to hit each step, make sure the presser foot is up, and make sure to lower the presser foot at the end to check the tension.

This is really a beginner's list. There's a lot more, but I wanted to start simply. Please feel free to share it around, or add your opinions.

**My credentials: I've been teaching sewing, serving, and machine embroidery professionally for 20+ years. Been sewing for over 40 years. I'm also a trained sewing machine technician.

[wandaluvstacos]

I think telling people to learn how to sew garments when they care about fashion sustainability is not particularly useful. Sewing your own clothes is expensive, super time intensive, and it actually takes a really long period of practice to get good enough that what you make doesn't look wonky. If you're sewing garments that aren't constructed well enough for long term use or that you don't like enough to wear, it's actually way worse sustainability-wise than buying something professionally done. The most sustainable garment is one you love and wear for years, no matter the fabric content.

that said, i actually do really think it's valuable to know how to sew generally and have a machine around, for those times that stitching comes apart, when you want to improve a garment by adding pockets, or general repair. For example, I had a grocery pannier fall apart, so I removed the panel that was the issue:

and I intend to sew a new piece from my dog's feed bag on in its place. I'm hoping it's not a difficult replacement; anyone who can sew a rectangle could probably do it. Thus I've rescued at least one thing from the landfill. I also was able to add side panels to some underwear I bought that was too small, thus making them large enough to wear. They aren't pretty, but if you return clothes they basically get thrown out, so this way they can be used before that happens (and it's underwear, so it doesn't have to look pretty, it just needs to be functional).

Machines can be expensive or they can be cheap, depending on what you want. My new Brother machine that I got from Sears back in 2017 cost me probably $150, and it works well enough for most things. It's also pretty light and portable.

You can also get fully functional older machines via Facebook Marketplace. My machine Pamela cost me $85, and she works great, though she is NOT portable and weighs like 45 lbs lol. But she'll sew through anything.

A lot of older machines you can get for $50-$100, and honestly even if they just have a straight stitch, that works for 85% of garment construction applications and nearly 100% of all touch-up applications.

Anyway, while I've been loving sewing clothes, I don't think you should do it unless you're passionate about it. But I DO think everyone should know how to sew and have a machine around for those times you need it. Hand sewing is fine sometimes, but other times a sewing machine can turn an 30 minutes-long frustrating hand sewing job into a 30 second machine job.

[fezwearingjellybananas]

For Talk Shop Tuesday, what is your process for writing? Do you write a chunk and then take a break and write more? Write the whole thing in one sitting? Do you write chronologically start to finish or do you hop around and write scenes out of order?

(Also, regarding your tags, are you using a drop spindle or a spinning wheel?)

A bit of all of it honestly! My typical rule is I only have one big multichapter main WIP at a time, otherwise I get a bit overwhelmed and end up not writing at all, though there's a few ideas that end up sitting around while I wait to need a new big project that might occasionally get a few bits added to (which is the origin for my AU Snippets series on AO3- I have a few bits that realistically I'm not going to actually get around to writing a great big fic but I might have a scene or two I like, so I stick it up as part a fic there, and I have come back to one of them before, the Tess Lives AU at first got relegated to that, then I had another idea). So those I will do the write a chunk then maybe go write a short something else if I have a spot of a block and come back to that later, and I have now written a couple of series (like the Tess Lives AU and The Flash & Hawkgirl) which were mostly written as I have an idea for that bit so I'll write a fic, then go off and do something else, then there's another idea so I'll write another fic for one of them, and so on.

Short stand-alone fics though might only take a few days or I have written some of them all in one sitting in a couple of hours.

Likewise long fics I am more likely to jump around- I tend to write future scenes rather than have a long plan then maybe I'll shuffle them around or just scrap and write something else if it no longer fits when I get there, whereas short fics are probably written chronologically. Sweet Defiance was written entirely chronologically, but that was supposed to be a short fic, I didn't realise it was over 25k until after I hit publish and AO3 told me how long it was, whereas when I was writing the Milk and Sugar 'verse (my very long Snowest series that took a few years) I had fully written scenes from Beans before Coffee, To Go was finished. And some of the series I might have a few future notes- Altocumulus Castellanus is still the only fully written fic, but I do already have the last scene written if it does manage to become a series this year as I keep hoping and not actually writing.

It's a drop spindle! A wheel does sound nice but I really do not have the space, whereas a drop spindle I can just hold in my hands (which is also why I exclusively hand sew, no matter how many times Hobbycraft send me the tempting sewing machine e-mail). I did practise plying yarn on the spindle before jumping straight into spinning fibres so the spinning part I think I have worked out, it's the drawing I am having a little trouble with, but some practise and I'll get there. And I have some alpaca fibre, partly because everything said sheeps wool is best for learning and I am allergic so I hoped alpaca would be closest, and partly for the colours, it's just 10g each of already carded fibre, but instead of thinking about dyeing and getting all white stuff, I have a selection of different colours from different colour alpacas and they're really nice colours, it's really soft fibre, I hope I figure this one out because it should be so nice to knit with if I can turn it into something recognisable as string.

Thank you!

[Talk Shop Tuesday]

[giverofempathy]

hii do u have any advice/resources for how to start making ur own clothes if ur not really good at sewing yet?

Hello!! I'd love to help out, so here is my advice and some resources!!

My biggest piece of advice is to just do it! I know it seems very intimidating at first but you will get better the more you do it. Making mistakes is how you learn so don't be afraid to mess up, and the good thing about sewing is that you (usually) can just take it out and try again!!

I advice you to begin with sewing very simple things. The easiest piece of clothing would be a skirt because the shapes are very simple and the seams are mostly just straight. It's also good to make some things just for the hell of getting better at sewing and using to learn your machine. I'd recommend making maybe a totebag or a pillowcase, or look up "simple sewing project for beginners" on pinterest, there are some great projects to be found there!!! When I first started as a fashion tailor student we began by literally sewing straight lines onto a strip of fabric to get to know the machine. It's a very good practice to get the hang of it!

I also advice you to work with non-stretch materials such as cotton or linen or anything blended with that. Stretchy fabrics are incredibly hard to work with and will give you so much frustration so I wouldn't start with that!

Then it's also very important to measure yourself right so you make the right size. If I use a valueable fabric or I'm not 100% about the size I make a mock-up which is a sort of quick version of the final garment to check if the sizes are all good. Mock-ups are usually made from a cotton fabric or a muslin.

I also advice you to make something that you actually wanna wear because that makes it so much more fun!! I've done a few projects that I wasn't really that excited about and that really made it harder to finish it.

As for resources, the website of Mood Fabrics has a whole lot of free patterns that you can download and print out at home. I have used a few of them and I would suggest to double check sizing because I've had trouble with that but other than that, it's an amazing site to check out! https://www.moodfabrics.com/blog/category/free-sewing-patterns/

Etsy is also a great source to find PDF patterns and is usually very cheap. You can also look into some sewing magazines, I think those are great because you get quite a few patterns for a great prize!

(I draft a lot of my own patterns since I learned to do so in school but I wouldn't recommend starting out with that since it is quite complicated. You can of course find books on this if you're interested in it and I would really recommend it when you're more experienced since you'll be able to make any thing you like!!)

Then there's also sewing supplies. So I would recommend a really good pair of fabric scissors. I also have a magnetic pin cushion which is amazing because you can just throw them on there and they'll stick! It's also important to change out your machine needle regularly since they get dull and this can affect the quality of your sewing work. A measuring tape is also of course very handy to have. A seam ripper, too. And I recommend buying good quality sewing thread, it really makes a difference!! I usually go for the Gütterman brand.

Than lastly for fabrics, I don't really have any sites I recommend to get fabrics from because I always go to my local fabric market. Like I said before I do recommend working with non-stretch fabrics since they are much easier to control. Usually patterns give some recommended fabric options so definitely look at that!

And I wanna say that not being good at it yet is okay! I've been sewing for many years and I still make mistakes and have things I wanna get better at. The most important thing is to have fun!!

Aahhhh this came out longer than I intended but I have a lot to say on this topic!!!! I wish you good luck on your sewing journey 🫂💌 and again the best bit of advice I have is to just start. Doesn't matter if it's ugly at first, you will get better the more you do it!! If you ever have any more questions you can always ask me 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

[book-lore]

And because the Library Goblin in me has been summoned again, I will not only second the great wisdom of the original post, but also add the following:

Can't speak for outside systems to my own, but most libraries only really need a proof of address to get you that card and the access to all the goodies. You can even get the process started without any of that with the promise that they will work with you to get access before you've settled if you've just moved.

Don't have an address? You can still get a card! Again, this is subject to the library in your area, but you can indeed be of no fixed address, between homes or just straight up having a hard time and with no prospect of getting a permanent address and you can still get a library card or at least access to the collection. The library is indeed for everyone and it doesn't matter if you are couch surfing or if you are in a shelter for whatever reason, you too can still come there and use the collection.

And you should because the books are wonderful, and we have a lot of them, but we also have ways for you to access ebooks and audio books. There's Hoopla and Kanopy for your streaming needs and the former even has an insanely large music collection so you can stream a bunch of artists, including brand new albums. For gamers, you can access brand new games and play through them before you commit to buying them. I know that we all love the convenience of things like your streaming service providers but you can find others for free. You don't need a lot of those subscriptions because there is a resource that your tax dollars is already funding ready for you to access.

There are a lot of libraries out there and some can afford to offer more and others less but the more you use those resources, the better the services will get. And you would be shocked at how much you can get through your local library. Yes, even one you might think is small and with a garbage selection. You don't know how much the library can offer you until you go there and the more you use it, the more you value it and the more value it has, the better the argument to fund it. There are libraries out there that have full on Makerspaces where you can learn to sew and rent a machine. There are libraries where you can even take out kitchen materials for baking. There are seed libraries out there where you can get your garden started. This is a third space that people have slept on for years and the possibilities are endless.

I'll cap my ranting off by saying that right now, more than ever, you need to show your library how much you love it and how important a resource it is. There are lots of things you can do but the first and most important thing is getting the card. Having an active library card shows that the community cares and considers the services vital. Libraries have to fight for a lot of the funding that they receive and in recent times, people who would prefer you have nothing have attacked that funding in horrible ways. People who grow complacent when their libraries are under fire like this will end up losing them. And that loss will take decades to recover, if the community can even do it. Starting up a new library takes a lot of money and years to replace everything from books to space to programming. Keep those doors open and show up for the library and they won't be able to take it away from you. Start by getting that card!

YOOOOOO I JUST GOT MY FIRST LIBRARY CARD SINCE LIKE 2007 IT WAS SO EASY???

Like they literally just needed any photo ID with an address, I thought they needed like unopened mail and paperwork and crap, it took 5 goddamn minutes, I did it on my way home from work

And was NOBODY gonna tell me libraries have websites now with ebooks and audiobooks and documentaries and British TV and shit???

Why the FUCK have I been paying Netflix

GO GET A LIBRARY CARD

[bestiemirage]

Heart - Came Back Wrong

Dark. Dreary. Dismal. A blanket of fog coats the graveyard, each headstone stretching over the miserable mist like drowning hands grasping for air. Deep in the darkness, a figure stalks and slithers through the field of marble memorials and granite graves, carrying with it an unlit flashlight and a shovel. Slowly sliding through the pathways, it comes to a tombstone, winding its shovel into the air and piercing the earth. With a splash of dirt like blood gushing from a gash, the pit beneath the gravestone grows deeper and deeper, until a thud echoes from the bottom.

How long has it been? The funeral was almost a year ago, way back in December. God, she misses her. Hanging up her shovel and dragging a black plastic bag behind her, Victoria settles into her workshop. Chains hang from the ceiling, power tools lie on a pegboard, a sewing kit sits on a workbench beside a large freezer, and in the center of the room is an empty operating table, surrounded by machinery. Almost finished. Any day now, she’ll be back, and she’ll be perfect. Like she always was when she was alive. Like she always was.

The last 10 months have been a lot. Even after she knew she would bring her back and stopped actively mourning, it’s been busy. She had to learn anatomy, suturing, tool working, and thanatology, which she hadn’t even heard of before all this. It’s been kind of overwhelming, it feels like every bit of her has shifted and changed trying to do this, she’s been a little more paranoid and hostile recently, but it doesn’t matter. It’ll all be worth it once she has her back. She would trudge through Hell itself to steal her back from death. She has what she needs now, she just needs to put it all together. Patch up any tears on her, complete the last little bits of the machine, and get everything ready.

The room sits in pitch black, overflowing with inky gloom, until struck with a flash of light, quickly fading until the next. Rain stomps onto the roof and thunder echoes from the sky. Every sudden gleam illuminates the operating table in the center, now complete with someone atop it, hooked up to dozens of wires, cables, cords, and connectors. It’s finally time. With a pull of a lever, Victoria strides past the event horizon with glee, treating the point of no return as a finish line. With a sudden jolt of voltage, the corpse on the table twitches. Another thunderstrike, another series of seizes. More and more, until the body is sitting straight up. With one final thunder and shine, the figure jerks awake, coughing. Breathing. Living.

Victoria calls out to her, rushing forward. “You’re alive! Elizabeth!”. She wraps her arms around her, holding her tight. The newly resurrected woman starts to speak, her voice soft and hesitant, like she’s not used to talking. “Victoria? How am I… here?”. Victoria responds with a voice filled to bursting with joy and excitement, “I brought you back! I tried and tried for months, all to have you back with me! And it worked!”. Elizabeth, still adjusting to not being, y’know, dead, takes a second before starting to speak again. “You–... I’m alive...”.

She’s missed this so, so much. Just having her here with her. Elizabeth is sitting right next to Victoria, nearly on her lap, leaning into her as she reads a book she started but never got to finish while she was alive. She slips in a bookmark into the books pages and closes it, setting it down on the table beside them and pressing a kiss into Victoria’s forehead. “I think I’m gonna make something for us. Are you hungry for anything, Viva?”. The other responds, her voice the most at ease it’s been in months “Anything you want. I’m sure whatever you decide to make will be perfect”.

Elizabeth is in the kitchen, still visible from Victoria’s place in the armchair they were sharing. It looks like she’s making fish. Nice. Seeing her alive and active is so odd. She’s just existing, doing normal, everyday stuff. Cooking, reading, living, being. Was she like this before? She was so perfect, so flawless before, but now she’s just normal. She’s just a regular person, instead of how infinitely ideal she was before. She’s… different.

The scent of salmon wafts through the room as Elizabeth sets down two plates on the dining table. “Viva, sweetheart. Wanna come over and eat with me?” After a few moments, Victoria enters before settling into her seat. “Thank you, Elizabeth.” It smells great. She can spot, over on her partner’s plate, there’s a small burn. A mistake she wouldn’t have made before. An imperfection. Elizabeth starts to eat, but Victoria hesitates. “So, how are you feeling? Is everything the same as before?” Elizabeth, taking a moment to finish chewing before she speaks, responds. “I feel alright, darling. I’m kind of surprised that coming back to life doesn’t feel worse. I haven’t forgotten anything, I feel the same, and I’m so, so happy to spend more time with you. Thank you for bringing me back.”

Victoria paces in her workshop, looking over her old, newly useless machinery. Forward, backward, forward, backward. She messed something up. She did something wrong. Elizabeth was perfect, she was always perfect. Every moment of the past year has been spent lost in bringing back that pinnacle of perfection, the caring, kind, flawless person she remembered, but this isn’t her. She’s just normal now. She isn’t perfect, she isn’t flawless, she’s just alive. She isn’t the same as she was before. She came back different. She came back wrong.

What has she done? Of course spitting in the face of death itself would have consequences. She thought she could just bring her back and have everything be like it was before? After she died? This whole thing was a mistake. Elizabeth is still dead, that thing isn’t her. God, the conceit, the hubris she had to think she could just revive her. She made a mistake. She needs to fix her mistake. She needs to undo its undeath.

The door opens with a creak, ‘Elizabeth’ stepping out from the crack as golden light floods from behind it. “Hey there sweetie. I’ve been looking for you. Are you doing alright? You look anxious.” Victoria, stops in her tracks, breathing ragged and rough, craning her head towards it. “I’m… okay. Are you okay? You don’t feel… odd? Off? Wrong?”

With a soothing, sweet voice, it speaks again “No? Are you sure you’re okay, Viva? I’ve never seen you act like this before”. With every breath more manic and every word less steady, Victoria speaks. “I am perfectly fine. You, however, are not. You’re not the Elizabeth I had before. You are some twisted, perverted aberration in the form of my love. You are a corpse walking. You are a disrespect to life and death. You are a mistake. My mistake. And I need to fix it. I–... I’m sorry.”

Victoria slowly lifts an angle grinder from a hook, flipping the power switch. “What– What are you doing, Victoria?”. She doesn’t respond, allowing the mounting whir of the power tool to fill the silence in her stead. “I should never have tried to bring her back. She was perfect. And now she’s you”. Victoria raises the spinning blade. Elizabeth backs away, scrambling to find the doorknob behind it, unable to look away from Victoria. “Please! Victoria! You don’t have to do this!”. Tears start to streak across its face as she pleads with her.

Sparks and sanguine fly through the air, settling on every surface, staining stone deep red. She had to do this. She had to right her wrong. And yet, it still hurts. She was so perfect. Too perfect. And it, that warped, imperfect imitation, wasn’t. It wasn’t her. She never came back. That thing was too human to be anything but inhuman. Too human to be her. Victoria collapses to the floor by her twice-dead love. “I’m sorry”.

[duck-in-the-universe]

Currently going down my list of people to ask about OCs because they rbed my OCtober bingo card :3

Tell me of the OCs!

Deslotair gang! Deslotair is a sci-fi western story that follows a group of scavengers through the desert as they fight to survive. If you already know the team, here are my bingo board ideas! If not, read more

For the board!!

Involved in crime is good for Sprocket and Alonze, obviously.

Sign language and multilingual are good too, most of the gang has some knowledge of sign language, and both Glass and Sprocket know several other languages as well.

They all need a Fucking Break. Probably Sprocket the most.

Ghosts could be fun!!

For outfits: i need to draw Sprocket in Alonze's jacket don't ask me WHY i just have that image in my brain.

Fucked up character dynamics for suuure. What do Sprocket and Alonze have going on? Who knows? Canon relationship??? Maybe!

Desmona has a pet! We love Tak! Weird lizard dog!

queer. obviously.

Tragic antagonist DOES fit but we're not getting into all that lol

Outer space was MADE for me <3

Inventor is interesting. Sprocket is a mechanic but he doesn't typically invent things? Him and Glass invented a 'suit' for Desmona though.

Alonze would commit murder, so would Glass! Sprocket tries not to but it's probably happened. Occupational hazard. Desmona would rather die.

Sprocket - he/him, their leader. Used to be a mining bot, where he learned mechanic skills to take care of the other robots down there. He's since made it out of there and has been scavenging the longest. Knows a lot about machines and how to strip things for the highest quality parts. He's a fairly straight-laced guy, and absolute worry-wart trying to keep everyone alive.

Glass - ey/em, primarily a navigator. A glass bot, which are a type of robot naturally created from old scrap that becomes encased in glass. Ey was raised completely around glass bots and worked as a translator between them and humans, but it was a pretty shitty environment to be in. Ey is very curious about humans and is an excellent teacher, specifically of languages.

Desmona - she/her, the outcast. Desmona is a 17 year old girl that came in contact with vitrel, the unstable energy source of Deslotair, which became a part of her. She left home after the accident and met Sprocket and Glass soon after. She's very shy and withdrawn, generally more comfortable around bots or animals than humans. Very crafty, likes sewing and embroidery.

Alonze - he/they/she, the sharpshooter. Used to work with Sprocket in a bandit group, before being caught and arrested after a train robbery gone wrong. Spent his life moving around with his dad, who was a rancher, and deeply loves Deslotair. Very opinionated and hotheaded, but deeply loyal once she's decided she's on your side.

[bishop-percival]

@stuckinuniformdevelopment

(prev) Instead of muttering that Revenard Miriam was certainly bigger and badder than her brother Teddy nodded along to Revenard Mike’s advice. That should be simple enough. He’d just have to lock all personal belongings in his desk drawer before leaving work. Wait… speaking of work… The sewing and embroidery machines technically belonged to the Glornch (not to mention how hard they would be to cart off.) Yet his pin cushion and especially his pins, on the other hand, wouldn’t be hard to take. Teddy put his hand on his chin and supported his arm with the other as he waited for an opportunity to to speak. Hearing him call the observatory their “secret” observatory made him briefly crack a smirk before smoothing it out. When Revenard Mike pulled out his necklace Teddy leaned close and squinted to get a good look at the crystal. It was as unassuming as he said… but with his lack of knowledge on artifacts he’d have to take him at his word. Once he saw what he needed to he straightened back up. “Of course. Although we should hold off on enacting our plot until I have one.” Then he asked, “What would count as ‘mine?’ Is it only what I see as my belonging? Does it include what I’ve made, even if I never intended to keep them? Or supplies that are primarily used by me? Speaking of: Does she know how to pick locks?”

Mike sighed as he tucked the necklace back behind his outer garments. 

“I wish I could give you a straight answer, truly. But “magic logic” or whatever is just so damn… illogical. So when it comes to defining something like ownership in the context of spells and rituals… It’s a gray area. And believe me, being tormented by two sorcerers for eight years, I’ve tried to study such things in an effort to defend myself from them, but…”

Mike shrugged, then shook his head like he was getting carried away. “To answer your other question, no, I don’t think she’s ever bothered to learn lock picking. Why do that when you can open most things with brute force or a spell.”

[kathleenmaddison]

Evaluation

The achievement for this project was to create a garment for something that was an inspiration to me, which was my grandma and how she lived her life and how she was just an inspirational woman. 

I began my project with research from primary being her diary entries and her photographs of her life, then secondary researching more into the war and visiting museums where I had taken photos of the hometown map where she lived.

I have interpreted my primary research by taking the pictures of her and mark making the bricks in her photos, putting my own spin to it, and shrinking the diary and sticking it on the brick to give it a shaded effect. Using that in screen print overlaying the brick and creating a pattern that would then be used on the glasses part of the garment, tracing the shape of my grandma's glasses, and using this for the front section. The letter 's' from her diary and incorporating that into the garment with an organic finish to the garment.

I have developed a lot during this module as I've mentioned throughout, attending workshops for pattern workshop and construction swell as introductions to the sewing machines and overlockers. I have gained the skills on sewing basic straight line followed with an overlocked stitch. adding darts to a garment, placing interfacing onto the base dress, lastly placing a zip onto the back piece of the base dress. learning the printing skills on profons as I’ve never used this process before, photoshop where I would have changed the colour of the brick to relate to my grandma's favourite colours.

Altogether I would have said my experimentations were successful because I trialled different colours and the shades of greens and went with the perfect shade.

My problem solving was about redoing the mistakes I had made one was the overlocking machine didn't catch the edge of the fabric. I overcome this by unpicking the stitch and redoing it.

from the beginning of the year, I came into the foundation with the basic skills and throughout I have learnt a lot such as photoshop, pattern cutting, group work, communication skills, teamwork, narrative, self-criticise, better techniques, visualising my outcome.

I am pleased with my outcome with it being successfully linked to my chosen inspiration (grandma) I love how everything sits onto the mannequin; however, the only thing I’d probably change would be the fabric for the 's' because I would have loved it to sit up and not droop, maybe I could have used boning.

[nixetras]

Projects I've been working on

Since I haven't been able to draw much for the past few years, I've admittedly picked up some new hobbies that I haven't talked about yet.

A while ago I began getting into sewing so I could make dolls and doll clothes, more recently I've been trying to build up the skill to be able to sew clothes for myself!

I'm new to embroidery but that's also a skill I'm developing. And more than a month ago I picked up crochet, so I've been having alot of fun with that.

Anyway, here are some pics of my more recent projects (oldest to newest):

Embroidered drawstring bag

From september. This was my first ever embroidery project, I've learned alot since then. Biggest issue was that my stitches were very loose so I've corrected that for future projects.

(Before anyone asks, yes, I used a stabilizer)

Aside from that, I like how the bag itself came out!

Djungelskog Pajamas

From january. The most challenging sewing project I've worked on.

I made the sewing pattern from scratch (my first time doing this) and i had to adjust a ton of things. I went to the store and looked at baby pajamas to help me see what parts made up the outfit.

This was my first time ever figuring out how to install a zipper, it was tedious. I had to do a practice one on a scrap piece of fleece first. Also my first time figuring out ribbing fabric, which gets eaten up by my sewing machine easily and I had to learn that the hard way.

Alot of work went into this one but I adore how it came out!

Djungelskog crop top

From march. I used the measurements from the pajamas as reference in order to make this crop top.

Like I said, I learned from my first embroidery project, so the stitches are nice and tight this time. I feel a little iffy about the outlines I did on the text, because they make the text look a bit messy from far away, but it's not too bad. (Bottom pic is my bf holding our son)

Once again, I'm proud of how the shirt itself is sewn. Collar is a teensy bit long for some reason, but nothing I can't adjust in the future.

Crochet bee

I just followed a straight up tutorial for this one, nothing fancy. But I started crocheting in March and this was my first amigurumi project. (the butt gets me everytime)

Current project - nonbinary flag blanket

17 hours into this one boys

[quitealotofsodapop]

MvA assorted headcanons

General:

So many years together has made the core monsters inseperable. If something affects one member, it affects the group.

All. The. Monsters. Are. Family.

It takes Susan a while to understand inside jokes and past incidents because of being the most recent addition.

There are Other anomalous creatures kept in Area 5X, but they are either non-sentient and/or are too dangerous to be kept around the more human-friendly monster group.

Area 5X is so gotdang big because they were expecting a lot more kaijus like Insecto to crop up. Sadly not many have surfaced to justify the space.

There’s a hangar in Area 5X full of wrecked UFOs. Some are spacecraft wreckage while others are stuff like weird meteors (Susan’s is in there), and at least one alien creature that got crystallised upon entering Earth’s atmosphere.

There’s significant difference in staff employed at different points throughout the past 50 years. There are far more women on the Area 5X worksheet than back in the 50s, and the guards are generally more sympathetic towards the monsters. Many modern staff members have been reprimanded or let go for failing to uphold secrecy, or for unnecessary cruelty towards the monsters.

Budget cuts were a legitmate concern up until the Battle of Golden Gate Bridge. The facility was far more barebones and sterile before the government had to formally recognise Area 5X’s importance. There have been a lot of redecorating at the facilty since the fat checks started coming in.

Putting individual characters under read due to length.

Susan:

Enjoys many hobbies considered stereotypically feminine; baking, sewing, cosmetics, etc...

Grandparents and extended family are farmers or are atleast connected to the business. Modesto is the agricultural centre of California after all. Her parents were the first of their generation to go against the mold and seek out white-collar careers.

Studied cosmetology in school and was working at a beauty salon to save up for her and Derek’s wedding.

Is very athletic and grew up doing a number of physical extracurriculars like cheerleading, dodgeball, and roller-derby.

Grew up being teased for being the shortest kid in her class/family. They still tease her for it.

Greatly fears causing collateral damage and/or harm to others through her size.

Has issues with anxiety, worsened only by her new job as “savior of earth”. She wishes for a confidant to tell her worries to.

Married life with Derek was doomed to fail. Susan had a plan in place for what came after the marriage, and focusing 100% on Derek’s career was not it. There’s also the line from Derek’s mother about Susan being “the weatherman’s wife”, implying that she was to be the homemaker and not have a career of her own. It’s possible that Susan was planning to settle down and have kids with Derek, but the lack of control she had in moving to Fresno implied that more was going on.

Is currently “taking a break” from love and dating, despite gaining many new admirers.

Tries her best to return to Modesto to visit her family and friends whenever possible, though work often keeps her away for weeks at a time.

If she retains her height-shifting abilities as in the series; Susan goes through really bad “growing” pains.

Link:

Was frozen in his relative late-teens during a cold snap. Got shifted around until he ended up somewhere in Greenland before being discovered by modern humans. Post-thaw he went a bit wild, swimming frantically back south to try and find his old enviroment.

Was one of many scrappy youngsters in his troop, with a number of adoptive parents. The strongest ruled the troop, and Link was fairly weak in comparision to the leaders. He had gotten into a fight the day of his freezing (over something silly in hindsight) and swam away to sulk. When he didn’t return after the cold snap - the troop accepted that he had likely died out on his own.

Likes to freak out humans by making up weird biology facts about his species and ones he’s fought against - like joking about laying eggs or having his tail dettach and regrow like a lizard. However there’s some things he has to ask about, because he doesn’t have medical knowledge or words to describe something.

A lot of his macho behavior came from imitating the guards who kept watch on him. 1950s violent military alpha males aren't a very good role model for someone who doesnt know what societal norms are yet. Link was a lot more insufferable back in the day but chilled out as he began interacting with other walks of life.

Has a high paternal instinct and immediately becomes softer around kids and smaller animals.

Has body language similar to a cat/alligator. Slaps his tail when angry or in deep thought. And yes; Link purrs/rumbles when happy.

Loves monster movies - especially the ones where the monsters “win”. He cried when he saw “Beauty and the Beast” and then immediately booed loudly when the Beast turned human.

Does Not Trust doctors or scientists due to bad past experiences. Will only go to Dr Cockroach and Monger if he ever gets hurt/ill. Gets stressed fast if he has to be in a waiting room or doctors office.

Link had no idea what gender indentities or orientations were until recently - he did come from a pre-human civilization that really didnt mind/care about the schemantics. It took him some time to wrap his head around it. He identifies himself as bisexual after much thought and many hours alone on the computer.

Don't press him about his body. He's built different from humans and cis people. He will punch anyone who doesnt respect his or anyone elses identity.

Has been in love before. It didn’t end well.

Will occasionally wear clothes, but finds it a challenge to find anything that fits him. Will give any shoes he finds to Dr Cockroach and BOB to eat.

The best driver/pilot out of all the monsters.

Dr Cockroach:

True name is Jaques-Yves Herbert. Prefers to just go by "Dr Cockroach" because he dislikes the association with his birth family.

Picks up human languages very easily, although not as quickly as he can understand animals.

Parents were a mixed scientist couple. His father was an aggressive “Strong British Man” that would beat him son down for not following orders or for not meeting his standards for a man. Dr C turned down both chances to attend his parents funerals.

This man isn’t straight. He probably uses old-fashioned slang when asked about romance such as; “I am Uranian” or “I wear a green carnation”. It took Susan a few times to realise what he meant, as she is used to a more open minded enviroment.

Got the idea of transforming into a cockroach from reading Franz Kafkas “The Metamorphosis” as a child. He sympathized with Gregor’s abusive situation, and began considering the possibilties of how one could survive better as a creature like a cockroach.

Studied in biology and entomology in the Uk before moving to the states to follow engineering. Obtained his degree in Dance as a “side gig” in University.

Has been barred from free access to the coffee maker/machine due to overnighters. Once stayed awake so long that he forgot the letter “R”.

Owned a terrarium of Madagascar Hissing Cockroaches throughout college. He mourned each of them when his roommate’s iguana got into the tank.

Was a "beatnik" back in the day and still kinda is. Embraces and encourages modern counterculture as he himself was not given such acceptance in his youth. He has however shamefully eaten his old Lenny Bruce album.

Hasn’t actually aged physically since his transformation. He attributes this to the fact that certain athropods can’t age physically beyond maturity. Link is very jealous.

Has obtained more degrees while in captivity, as Monger allowed him access to research and learning materials. He has however had his allowances revoked for previous escape attempts/doomsday devices.

Does still enjoy human food, but the cockroach instinct of "eat detritus" tends to overrule his eating choices. Can’t cook either.

Ironically a terrible driver. The damages from previous drives has made Monger restrict him from operating even a razor scooter.

BOB:

Pretty much considers himself human. Was created by them, raised by one (Monger), and talks like one. Gets sad when he's reminded that no other humans are blue blobs like him.

Absorbed some dna from the scientists present at his "birth", leading to his eye, speech, and omnivorous diet.

Doesnt actually need to breathe (as he can just absorb oxygen through his mass) but the fact that humans Do means that BOB thinks he has to as well.

Shares some physical characteristics with tomatoes/nightshade plants, as he is technically half tomato. He refuses to eat tomatos for this very reason, considering it cannibalism.

Attracts garden pests looking for a tomato plant. This unwittingly makes BOB a pretty good bug zapper.

Still retains his "mental broadcast" ability from "BOB's Big Break" although at a more subtle level. He tends to parrot the things he accidentally "eavesdropped" on.

Is empathetic, and can tell when others aren't doing ok emotionally. Will flop down on someone who’s really sad to comfort them. No brain, only heart.

Best cook out of the monsters. If he doesn’t forget what he’s making at least.

"Whats a gender? Can I eat it?"

Insectosaurus:

Core body is that of a Japanese Silkmoth, although she ended up being spliced with other animals present on the island during her initial mutation; namely ants and ground squirrels.

Eats over a literal ton of mulberry leaves per day. Also enjoys oranges.

Secretly wishes to be more humanoid.

Was only able to pupate and transform due to physical trauma. It seems that her transformation was like a “power-up” that required her to be in geniune distress for it to activate.

First language is Japanese. She learned it from the intial recovery team, and later developed an understanding of English from years in Area 5X.

Goes into torpor in cold weather. Pretty much impossible to wake her up for missions during Winter, as she needs to “rev up” before becoming mobile.

Still very much Link’s best friend. Still enjoys sports, chicks, and beer.

Monger:

Full name is; Warren Rex Monger.

Is very protective of the monsters and will defend them to the death.

Pretty much raised BOB (as seen when BOB was a baby blob in “Night of the Living Carrots”), and considers him his “freaky gelatinous son”.

Has a reputation of being a “control-freak” due to his aggressive overseeing of the monsters’ containment. This toughness is partly because of incidents that occured without his knowledge. Lets just say some scientists have been wedgied/fired for running experiments on the monsters without Monger’s approval.

Has a very “Ron Swanson” emotional response and view of the world. Crying is acceptable only at funerals and at the Grand Canyon (if he hadn’t lost his tear ducts in the war).

Has been married multiple times. Will not confirm or deny if he is currently seeing anyone.

Invisible Man/TiM:

Legit got out but no one at Area 5X is sure how. He suffered a geniune medical emergency and disappeared after surgery. The other monsters were informed that he died from complications to deter them from getting escape ideas.

Is able to be detected in Infrared light. Dr Cockroach managed to rig up goggles to view TiM in case of injury and to foil pranks.

Was a scientist working on an invisibility potion for the military and used himself as a guinea pig. Hasn’t actually been able to replicate his results since - thinks the effect may have been caused by a genetic abnormality.

Dr Cockroach and him are massive rivals. Both actually met eachother pre-transformation through a CalTech expedition. This makes the pair one of few people that have seen the others human face.

Is 100% naked. Was forced to wear clothing once this was discovered.

A massive prankster and a cynic. Him and Link were a force to be reckoned with.

Has revisted the facility multiple times and has started a number of ghost stories.

Any additions are welcome! I proably have alot more to dump about. Might make one of the alien characters from the series

[husbandomail-archive]

Can I please request headcanons for Yusei, Jack, and Crow falling in love with a female firefighter/paramedic who saves their life?

I hope this is alright!!

Yusei:

For good reason, Yusei doesn’t trust the overarching establishment— over the years he’s learned to patch himself up or sew himself back together, because Satellite didn’t exactly have hospitals, and the rest of Neo Domino was less than welcoming. If he’d risked stepping into the city for medical care, there was always a looming chance that he get arrested on past trumped-up charges. So, whenever he inevitably took a tumble off his bike, or dropped something heavy on his foot, he just kinda. Dealt with it.

But even Yusei Fudo has his moments. Yet again on the run from Security while testing a new Duel Runner, he’d taken a corner a bit too fast; the bike had careened straight into a wall, and Yusei’d barely had time to launch himself out of the way before it burst into flame. Adrenaline is what carried him away from the crash site— Security was definitely still on his tail, and they weren’t stupid. He needed to get as far away as fast as possible. But his bike was smoldering, and thick smoke had filled the alley and his lungs to the brim— before he knew it, Yusei’s vision had gone dark. Maybe tonight was the night he got caught.

When Yusei’s eyes snapped open again, he was decidedly not in a burning alleyway. Instead, he was in a bedroom; one he didn’t recognize, but comfortable all the same. When he looked down, his arm was bandaged, and his shredded jacket was tossed across a chair in the corner. He was so busy examining things that he almost missed the door as it swung open; you peered around the frame, your arms full of supplies, and you smiled when you saw he was awake. “You’re lucky I found you,” is the first thing you said to him. Yusei was just glad to hear something else besides the ringing in his ears.

Jack:

Jack Atlas takes good care of himself. He’s always in peak physical condition; apart from his bouts of ramen cravings, he eats well-balanced meals; he exercises consistently and spends a lot of time admiring himself in the mirror. His current state of mind is fueled by painful memories— if he thinks on it long enough, he’s shaken by how real they feel, reminding him of how hungry and frail he used to be. Because he’s so scared of that again, there’s really nowhere in his life that requires medical intervention.

Until a bad day on the track. He’d absolutely been winning his duel, as always— but the opponent didn’t like that, and before the final attack could land, the other man had swerved violently across the pavement and slammed his hunk of a machine into Jack’s bike too. The Runners jolted and sparked as they collided, Jack tossed from his seat like a ragdoll and sent tumbling to the pavement as the acrid scent of smoke and burning chemicals began filling the stadium. The television cameras were shut off immediately.

For obvious reasons, it took Jack a moment to catch his breath. So this is what it’s like to be run over. Although his entire body stung, he had enough adrenaline in his veins to at least roll over and try to push himself to his feet; but then a hand lands on his chest and presses him back down. He couldn’t see through the cracked visor of his helmet, but it wasn’t long before his helmet was removed anyways; you were leaning over him, your face grim as your eyes scanned his entire body. You were a breath of fresh air amidst the wreckage— Jack didn’t usually believe in love at first sight, but today might be an exception.

Crow:

Crow Hogan is a good dad, he tells himself. It’s generally true— he takes in any lost child that makes eye contact with him, and they’re all fed, clothed, sent to school. But today— today— he’d fallen asleep on the couch; the past few days had been exhausting, after all, and the kids could take care of themselves for an hour or two. And then he’d been jolted out of his delicious nap by the screeching of the smoke alarm.

He moves on instinct alone. The smoke is billowing from the kitchen, and some of the younger kids are already bawling; Crow snatches up the kids that fit in his arms, and then guides the rest of them out the front door. When they’re on the sidewalk out front, he does a quick headcount— and then he freezes. He counts again. Someone is missing.

The firetrucks are quick on the scene, and you and your crew all pile out in your heavy gear and get to work. Crow snatches you by the arm of your suit in a panic— he’s missing one of his daughters, Lily— through your visor you nod at him, and then before he knows it, you’ve delved into the smoke still pouring from his little home. The rest of the firefighters move like a machine, and it isn’t long before the hoses are on full-blast, his poor house sopping wet. There’s movement through the steam; you burst out the front door, Lily bundled in your arms, clinging tightly to your heavy gear as you run a comforting hand through her hair. Crow nearly drops to his knees in relief. He takes Lily from you, and it’s only then that you pull off your hat and visor; it’s only then, when he’s turned to thank you, that he realizes you’re awfully cute.

[x0401x]

Jeweler Richard Fanbook Short Story #13

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Ramen Story

The voice of the owner as he said “welcome” turned into a mutter at the end, fading away. I could understand how he felt. With a light, cut-and-sew jacket draped over him, a blond, blue-eyed man had come inside, standing behind another man who quite literally had the air of a student. It wouldn’t be unreasonable to wonder if he was an actor. But we were just a party of two.

“Two people,” I indicated with a peace sign. We were guided to a table seat. There were no other people around. While we were at it, we gave them the meal tickets that we had bought from the vending machine outside. A couple of negi ramen.

“What a surprise. There’s always a long queue for this shop. So that’s how shops are like right after they open in a student district?”

In this shop, currently reserved to our exclusive use, I talked without restraint about all sorts of things – about the layout of the classroom building in my campus, about the hideout-like garden in the university’s premises, about my friends and even about my teachers. The shop’s atmosphere did that to me. The man who could well be the best listener in the world let me talk as much as I wanted, occasionally making an exasperated face.

“Here, sorry for the wait. It’s hot, so be careful.”

“Thank you, thank you.”

“You too, Mr. Foreigner. This is ‘hot’.”

As Richard replied with a “thank you, madam”, the old lady laughed fickly.

Now for the ramen.

Its soup was salt-based, warm steam wafting from it. That being said, it wasn’t as if there was anything special about it. We hadn’t added any ingredients, so it was a simple one. Fermented bamboo shoots, dried seaweed, fish cake and a large helping of green onions.

We silently put our hands together to thank for the meal, taking the chopsticks and parting them with a snap. I took the dwindled noodles, then opened my mouth wide and filled it with them. I tried to make as little noise as possible.

Delicious.

This shop’s ramen was simple, but it was a strong ally for a student’s cold pockets and quick-to-get-hungry stomach. It stayed steadily in your belly, resolutely reminding you for about three hours that you had eaten ramen today. And above all else, the animalistic joy of eating without thinking was more irreplaceable than anything else. Tasty food was great.

By the moment I was done with my very-IQ-lacking monologue of “thank you, o ramen; o ramen, thank you”, there was only a little bit left of the contents of my bowl. Still eating the green onion ramen without a sound, Richard looked at me with upturned eyes from his bended posture. Those blue eyes made me seriously wonder if there weren’t gemstones inserted in them.

“Hey, you got a moment?”

“As you wish. Whatever you please.”

When I prefaced it with, “This is serious talk – super, super serious talk”, he made a face that screamed, “You’re being too long-winded”, so I went straight to the point.

“I didn’t think you’d actually come eat ramen with me.”

I hadn’t imagined that the day would come when I could eat a bowl of ramen for 450 yen at a historical, cozy ramen shop in the student town with this beautiful man who usually only wore suits. I hadn’t at all. Even now, another side of me was still tilting his neck somewhere within my mind, wondering about “how things came to this”.

Ever since around the time I had started working part-time in Ginza, I had no sense of reality. Not even about the fact that I would later be going to Sri Lanka. No, of course, I was fully ready and had a Visa, so I was in a phase where all I had left to do was get on the plane and I was making the oh-so-busy Richard help me out with that, but...

Richard took a sip of the salt-based soup with the china spoon, then glanced at me. “So you were not expecting anything from me, is that it?”

“No way. On the contrary.”

When I said that I just didn’t think he would give me the OK, Richard’s lips curved in the shape of an arc, and after looking for napkins on the table, he realized that there weren’t any, so he took a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his mouth.

“I value the accuracy of your palate. It is obvious that, if you have a shop you like, I would want to try eating there.”

“Thank you. And for remembering about it too.”

Soon after I had started working part-time, I was introduced to a stone called chrysoprase. I once laughed my butt off when I learned that the etymology of the fresh green-colored stone included the meaning of “leek” or “green onion”. The topic then changed into ramen, and we, the shopkeeper and part-timer who subtly had not yet thrown off reserve with each other, talked about liking green onion ramen, what kinds of toppings we preferred, and other such things. I had kind of thought that “it’d be nice to go have ramen with this guy someday”. Back then, to me, Richard was someone as far-off as the moon and stars that shone in outer space. Of course, he was still as resplendent as the moon and stars even now, but he didn’t feel as distant.

Once I was done drinking the soup up to it’s last drop, I heaved a small sigh. “That was delicious. Last time eating Japanese ramen and this one for a while, huh.”

“How about putting instant ramen in your suitcase?”

“I ain’t used to making those. I’m the type that goes out to eat ramen rather than making instant ones. But there’s curry roux inside. Weird story, isn’t it? I’m going to a curry culture zone, yet I’m taking curry with me.”

“Analyzing Indian and Sri Lankan curry by Japanese curry standards can cause serious stomach problems. Beware.”

I puffed out my chest, saying that I had properly prepared myself for this because he had already told me about it before, to which the beautiful man gave a little sigh.

“May I also talk about a truly serious topic?”

When I told him that didn’t mind it at all and that I wanted to hear it, Richard looked at my face directly. It made me nervous. What was he going to tell me, I wondered.

“I did not think that you would actually invite me out for ramen.”

“Me?”

“Yes. I honestly did not.”

“Why?”

As I kept on tilting my neck at that sentence, which you wouldn’t think would come from someone like him – who looked like just breathing was enough for him to get invited to eat out –, Richard spoke to me reticently. He told me that people were quick to come towards him, but there were also those who surrounded him from a distance, watching him without trying to shorten the distance between him and themselves. So this kind of thing also happened?

Looking back, I was also from the keep-a-distance group at first. But I sucked at giving up, and whenever something that made me happy happened, I would be overjoyed no matter how many times I remembered about it, so every time I recalled the chrysoprase talk, I would find myself thinking that I should invite him out for ramen. It just so happened that the desire for this “someday” had amplified as the number of times that I thought about it increased, and I had finally voiced it this spring.

The shop was tiny and had a bit of a mysterious scent, but it was truly delicious. It would be closing this spring. I was concerned about what to do if he declined it with an awkward face, but the response I got after speaking up was a “When will it be?” without a moment’s delay.

“Was it okay to have invited you?”

“What do you think?”

“Well, I was just thinking I was glad that I invited you, but...”

The reply was a short-range smile. That slightly tired face with no sense of uneasiness to it was bad for the heart. But I was gonna get used to it. I had to.

“Still, was it really all right? That I was the one you had a meal with for the last time at a shop that you have fond memories of, I mean. Would it not have been better to do so with the friends that you always ate with?” Richard asked.

Hmm. So he was gonna bring that up, huh?

“Well, well, thank you very much for your superb consideration. But I’m glad it was with you.”

“Is that so?”

“I’m glad it was with you. Not anyone else; with you.”

I had learned many lessons even in just four years of university, such as that things were shifting, everything kept changing over and over, the green onion ramen shop would be gone, I would be leaving for Sri Lanka in the near future and there was no telling how my life was going to be from now on. But this jeweler was a man who knew very well how to cherish a memory.

Only to people like that did I entrust the things I didn’t want to forget.

Bidding a courteous farewell to the elderly shopkeeper and old lady employee, we exited the shop. Cars rushed on the Yasukuni Avenue. Kasaba during holidays was so quiet that it felt like a different world. As the wind softly blew, the cherry trees planted along the street shook and their pale pink petals scattered about.

“That was delicious, huh~. You got any plans for later?”

“I am going to help Saul with chores. We are not boorish enough to engage in business talk after just eating ramen.”

I stole a peek at his profile as he started chewing on a mint gum. The beautiful man brushed cherry blossom petals off his golden hair. He offered me one of the white gums, asking if I wanted to eat it.

I probably wouldn’t forget this sight. Even if that ramen shop was gone, even if my address was no longer in Tokyo.

Richard tilted his head a little, as I was still staring at his face even after accepting the gum. “Anything the matter?”

“Aah, sorry. Your beauty was like you’ve come from another world, so I spaced out.”

I then changed the topic, saying I was going to think about what to have for dinner or something. There were still lots of shops that I wanted to visit while I was still in Japan, though they were all set-meal and chain ones. I didn’t think I was able to hide my melancholy, but he’d probably act like he didn’t see anything. I was grateful for that.

In the middle of our walk to the train station, I looked back at the cityscape one last time and wordlessly offered a moment of silence to it.

Thank you for everything; I’m off!

[steve0discusses]

S5 Ep 15 Pt 1: The Gang Gets Lost in India

Ah, back to Yugioh classic. Sort of. We’re going into the second filler arc before Bakura, which I have been told is kind of nonsense. And youknow what, from the first scene--this is the first scene by the way--yeah I can see the nonsense.

We got Yami cosplaying as the Chrysler building, we got Yugi saying WTFWTF, we got...this thing?

This thing tells us “Join my game, Yugi!” and then the demon just kinda bounces.

K, bye, I guess.

(read more under the cut)

Waking up from this nightmare, Yugi reveals that he has outgrown his good pajamas. Or maybe he just overused them like I did to my favorite pajamas during quarantine (which, not gonna lie, I hand sewed my favorite pajama pants back together 2 or 3 times like they were the Velveteen Rabbit. Quarantine pajamas and me were like best buds for a year there.)

RIP Yugi’s good pajamas.

It’s fine. I’m fine.

I can get used to Yugi in his normal ass old man pajamas without any cute stars on them. I can accept this. He’s getting older. So much older that for a second I thought he was learning Hebrew, by the looks of his books on his counter. I thought...wow, is Yugi actually attempting to learn a language spoken around the time of ancient Egyptians???

But uh...I went a searching and unfortunately that’s not Hebrew, and if that is a language, I don’t know what it is. Pretty sure it’s just random marks because this show has to be translated in so many languages. Man. For a second there that looked like really sneaky world building, but nah, Yugi is still kind of a dumbass who has yet to attend a solid year of school.

Also, I got to take in this mustard yellow as if I’ve seen it for the first time.

It has strong building blocks energy. It’s...so much yellow and it’s extremely the vibe of that one set of animal crossing decorations that I have because it’s a very common recipe, but, can’t figure out for the life of me how to fit into any room.

What am I supposed to do with these, Nintendo? Other than recreate Yugi’s Muto’s haunted game store/house?

Like I live in the Bay area and we have wild painted houses so you can see them through the fog (back when we...still had fog, RIP California) --but this is a little much. This is such strong Protagonist energy but as a house.

Also, I’ve don’t think I’ve brought this up before, but like...Yugi is loaded, right? Like he’s way too good and humble to ever say he’s loaded, and they sort of make it seem like he’s not (when compared to Seto Kaiba) but damn, this location of his real estate sure is something. That and Grandpa’s tiny shop seems to run on a constant deficit and his family just doesn’t care.

We flash back a bit to Gramps sneaking out, and Yugi is like “oh great, my only Father figure I ever talk about is getting a backpack together and just...leaving without any notice, huh? Without telling me you were going to go? Didn’t think that would maybe be a little off putting?“ and Gramps is like “Yes?”

Like Gramps nearly died going to an amusement park a few episodes back so I can see why Yugi is a little bit concerned.

Down the street at a little town lottery, Joey is getting further into gambling (I don’t know what those little street lotteries are called, it’s in a lot of anime--but kinda looks like mom lotteries for moms.)

I’m not sure why India is on Joey Wheeler’s bucket list, seems a little random, but he went to Pegasus’ country, after all and that’s barely even a country.

Joey going nuts on a lottery machine instead of going to school was pretty peak filler, so I’m not really minding this stuff so far.

And then, just to spook me, check this out:

I can’t believe they even let them back into a classroom. In my nerd school, if you missed one too many days, you were sent to the bad schools to be someone else’s problem. But in Yugi’s case...that either IS his school or...Yugi is failing International School, which is just a thing he’s allowed to do, because, as I said before, this kid has got to be loaded. Even Seto Kaiba was like “I’m not spending money on this school anymore. That outfit is like 50 bucks a jacket.”

Youknow, I have seen all the other characters knock on Tea’s choice of cute ass monsters for the last 5 seasons, and she has never once changed them out. She is holding onto this scary seraphim thing with the many wings like every child with their first Pidgey. She does not care.

Also how is this thing cute?

like the front of this orb has a face with hearts on it but like...it is kind of remarkable what Yugioh decides is cute. Magma golem: not cute. this thing? This thing that looks like it’s a chibi version of the last chapters of the bible and will sound the trumpets of the second coming? So cuuuuute.

Tristan used to be the Janitor/hall monitor/square archetype. Like hell he can walk around with that 00′s R+B soundtrack.

Joey appears in order to get us the hell out of school, and the art team retires this school background for the rest of what I assume is this entire series.

Goodbye school. Maybe you’ll come back with Bakura. Which would be weird, since rumor is that arc takes place in ancient Egypt.

On their walk home, Tea lets out in an inner monologue that no one could hear that after 5 straight seasons of his BS, she’s sick and tired of Pharaoh being the center of attention all the time and she needs a freakin break.

TBH, as she was thinking in her head like “Pharoah is just so freakin much” Yugi switched over to Pharaoh and was like “WHATS UP TEA, THINKING ABOUT ME??” and I thought for a split second maybe he read her mind with his Pharaoh powers.

And like...maybe he did? Seems like a thing he can just do but chooses not to tell anyone about. I mean would you tell anyone? I wouldn’t.

So, unlike Miho in Season Zero, who at least had the decency to try to take her Mother to Australia, Joey Wheeler has wisely decided that the 3 other ticket holders will not be the 3 other members of his immediate family. That would have been the most awkward trip between Serenity, his mother he hasn’t really spoken to in 7 years, and his absent father who was written out of the series for being a raging alcoholic. They would have not even made it to the plane.

Instead he’s gonna take the ghost in Yugi’s head and call that an adult (two tickets in one, really). It’s honestly not that bad of a plan, since his only other father figure, Grandpa, is MIA, and his only other, other father figure, Roland, charges like 300 dollars an hour and wants stock options and health insurance.

And honestly they should have taken Roland because he’s one of their best plane guys.

So they take the smallest little Amelia Earheart plane in the world, going from Japan to (checks map) India...which 2 times the distance this plane can go and it crashes...which is exactly what would happen if you took a teeny tiny plane over the Himalayan mountains without refueling that thing.

We call this a magical incident later in the episode, but this is just basic math.

So, fun fact, (and probably why I discuss planes so often on this blog) two of my Grandfathers were pilots (well, three, since my grandmother remarried another pilot), which sounds like a crazy coincidence until you recall that their generation was in WW2 and we just shoved children in planes for 20 years and called that normal.

Anyway, to save on travel costs, my engineer Grandfather built his own plane out of junkyard parts, which, as you can imagine, is a living nightmare, and it was held together by like duct tape and gasoline (which at one time used to be cheap). Tempted God every day that Howls Moving Castle touched the sky.

And while I only know it from photos since I wasn’t exactly born yet, it looked exactly like this plane. So looking at this, all I can think is...yeah...that’s what you get for flying to India in a tin can car. To this day I cannot trust any plane of this size.

So, they climb out of their wreckage virtually unscathed and into familiar Californian territory.

At least Joey thought about bringing a tent.

It’s interesting how our cast has become so accustomed to this that they’re not even all that shell shocked. It’s just another day in the life.

So next time we shall find out what India has in store for us. Or if we’re even in India...because again...feels a lot like this BG team doesn’t do any research into their landscapes and every place feels a whole lot of the same. But...at least they didn’t put any Arizonan mesas in India.

[stillebesat]

The Sweater

Cartoon Therapy: Emile Sanders Shorts: Remy (Sleep)  Sanders Sides: Janus  Blurb: Emile had said he was making a sweater for a friend. Only he neglected to tell Remy that this friend wasn’t exactly...well...human. Fic Type: General, NotQuiteHuman!AU, Kid!Janus Overall Fic Warnings: Extra Limbs, Implied Child Abandonment Taglist in Reblog 

“You didn’t have to come.”

Remy flinched at the unexpected rumble from the towering man walking next to him. After three days spent with Emile, he was sure that he would have such a reaction under control sooner rather than later...so long as the dude stopped speaking up out of the blue like this that is. 

Emile licked his lips, adjusting his glasses as he held the tissue wrapped package closer to his chest. “Really.” 

Remy took a sip from his Starbucks cup, savoring the warmth of the hot chocolate in the chill evening air, glad that the snow had stopped falling for a glacier minute. “Gurl.” He looked up over the rims of his sunglasses and smirked, again trying to not take it to heart that this guy was a good hulking foot taller than him. “I soo did. With all the blood, sweat, and tears I put into helping you--you owe me this at least.”

It wasn’t everyday that he walked into the room reserved for teaching beginners how to be dressmakers in search of an extra spool of green thread to find this unexpectedly gentle giant awkwardly hunched over the sewing machine attempting to make….something.

He’d heard the term bull in a china shop before, but Remy had never felt the term applicable to anyone until he saw Emile. He’d been sure one wrong twitch of his dinner plate sized hands would mean bye bye sewing machine. 

Of course, after getting the big guy to spill the beans and admit that he’d been trying to make a sweater for a ‘friend’ by threatening to kick him out of the sewing lab for being there outside hours; Remy had learned that just like the Mythbusters had proven, despite Emile’s wrestling sized figure, he was just as delicate as the bull in the episode had been. His large fingers were far more dexterous -if prone to being pricked by needles- than Remy had expected of the guy who could probably crush a watermelon with his bare hands. 

But that didn’t mean he’d leave this amateur to his own devices. No Ma’am! Not after he’d seen the pitiful first attempt of something that could have been a sweater fit for a large teddy bear or maybe a small child, Remy had delegated himself as Emile’s pseudo teacher if only to ensure no sewing machines ended up crushed into teacups. 

He needn’t have worried though. Emile had a soft touch. 

The big guy bit his lip, keeping his eyes firmly straight ahead in a way that told Remy he didn’t want to make eye contact. 

That was probably wise for him because Remy could pull a mean puppy dog look when he wanted to. He’d received more than his fair share of drinks on the house from it and he could and would use those eyes against Emile if he thought it would help his case.

Emile exhaled, pushing his glasses up his nose. “I just--I don’t know if--if Stitch will like...well...strangers. He’s very shy.” 

Stitch. Like the alien from that kids movie. 

Kids movies that Emile was rather obsessed with once he opened that particular can of gummy worms though Remy was sure he was only beginning to uncover that massive iceberg of an interest. This intimidating mountain of a man had morphed into quite the giant nerdy softie when it came to him talking about his cartoons.  

Maybe that was why the sweater had been comically small. Of course, getting the proper sizing for this gift from Emile had been rather...like pulling teeth. It had taken a full hour of wheedling before Emile had admitted that he was only guessing at the size he needed for this...friend.  

“Sugarbee.” Remy shook his head. “If he likes you I don’t see how little--” and it galled him that he had to call himself little because he was a good five foot eleven inches thank you very much. “Old me would frighten him away.” 

Emile shrugged a shoulder, fingers brushing the string on the package. “He’s just...I don’t want to scare him. I barely have any trust with him as it is and if I bring someone new--” 

Remy rolled his eyes, flexing his fingers around his cooling cup. It was like the guy was talking about a feral dog and not a person. “Trust me, babes. I ain’t gonna scare him.”

The sweater on the other hand?

That was less certain.

Because it had to be the strangest one ever created. 

Like Remy had seen his fair share of Ugly Sweaters over the years.

But this one would probably take the cake if only for the fact that Emile had insisted that said sweater have six arms.

After having to figure out the logistics of that particular snag, and after doing most of the sewing of those extra arms himself, there was no way Remy wasn’t seeing the reaction of this ‘Stitch’ kid to this particular present.

Maybe the dude just liked pretending to be the alien and Emile was humoring him. 

Regardless, Remy wanted to make sure that said monstrosity actually fit. It was a good eighty-two percent of his work after all and he prided himself on his garments fitting perfectly. 

Emile exhaled, still avoiding eye contact. “Just...stay behind me okay?” 

Remy gulped the last of his hot chocolate, tossing the cup into a nearby trash can as he followed Emile around the corner into a tree filled snow covered park. “Three steps back. Got it, Princess.” 

Though seriously, if Stitch wasn’t afraid of Emile, towering giant that he was, he highly doubted his presence would be an issue.

Remy shoved his hands into his pockets, letting the big guy move ahead to cut a swath through the untouched snow like a snowplow on a highway towards a huge pine tree in an out of the way corner that had branches all the way down to the ground, hiding the trunk completely from view. It was an odd spot to meet a ‘friend.’ Especially since said friend had apparently not arrived yet. 

Remy exhaled, hunching his shoulders. “Looks like we’re early.” He commented, glancing around the park, seeing no one else. Which made sense. It was nearly sunset. It was cold. The sky had a dark enough overcast that he was sure it would start snowing again any second. Who in their right mind would be out right now?

“We’re not.” Emile said, glancing over his shoulder. “Remember. Stay back.” He again cautioned before he knelt, letting out a soft three pitch whistle. “Stitch?” He called softly. “Hey buddy, it’s me, Emile. I--I brought you something.” 

Remy frowned, staring at the silent tree. “Did you actually have me help you make a sweater for a mutant squirrel?” That or Emile had a screw loose and he’d just spent three days making a monstrosity of a sweater for an imaginary friend. “Shh!” Emile hissed before again whistling at the tree. “Stitch? It’s okay. This is Remy. He’s a…”

Remy raised an eyebrow as Emile bit his lip, glancing back at him. 

“He’s a friend, he won’t hurt you.” The big guy edged another foot closer, hand brushing the tips of the pine needles sending snow showering down off the branches. “Please come out? I--we brought you something.” 

The pine tree remained silent.

Remy shoved his hands deeper in his pockets, regretting more that he’d drunk all his hot chocolate. “Maybe he’s not home.” Everyone who was anyone in their right mind would be anywhere but outside in this weather.

“Maybe you’re scaring him.” Emile snapped back before wincing. “Ah...could you like...kneel down? Please.” 

Remy scoffed. Him? Scaring the imaginary friend? If Emile wasn’t scary then Remy definitely wasn’t scary either. “And freeze to death?” He asked, awkwardly crouching on his heels. His designer shoes were already feeling the damp chill of the snow working its way in to soak his socks, there was no way he would allow his knees to experience the same torment. 

“Stitch?” Emile pleaded, again whistling as he edged closer. “Stitch.” 

They were gonna be out here until midnight at this point. “Come on, Stitcharoo.” He said ignoring the big guy’s frantic hissing to shut up. “I’m friendly. Emile is friendly. We’re all friendily freezing here so how about you come out an--” Remy cut off as the branches rustled. 

A single yellow eye peered out at them, glinting in the fading sunlight. 

Okay. Imaginary friend out. Mutant feral squirrel back in.

“Meal?” A shaky voice asked. A young shaky voice.

Ooohhh Goodie. Remy pressed his lips together, fighting the way his heart had jumped into his throat. Freaking talking mutant feral squirrel. It had better be a mutant squirrel because if there was a freaking child living in this tree in the middle of a freaking snow storm--

Emile visibly sagged with relief. “Hey Stitch, buddy. You okay?” 

The eye gave a slow blink. “C-c-cold.” 

“Aren’t we all.” Remy muttered, glad that his sunglasses protected him from whatever baleful glare the creature was casting on him now. He gave a two fingered wave. “I’m freezing too, buckaroo.” 

“Remy.”

“What?” 

Emile gave him the patented Will you shut up look that would have made any mother proud. 

Remy made a face. “You never said I couldn’t talk.” He was still behind him wasn’t he? He was crouching in the freaking snow freezing his toes off. He should be allowed to talk to the glowing eye that had better not be a child living in the tree in the middle of winter! 

Emile exhaled, before pulling off the string on the present, unwrapping the black and yellow sweater. “Remy and I made you this, Stitch. To help with the cold.” He said, holding it out in all its six-armed glory. 

A soft gasp came from the tree as the yellow eye opened wide. “Me?” 

“Yah, kiddo.” Emile said, nodding. “Can I help you put it on?”

The branches shifted, the yellow eye glancing to Remy before vanishing. 

Sugarbee hadn’t been kidding when he said his friend was shy. 

“C-cold.” The voice whispered from somewhere within the tree. “Meal. Safe?” 

Remy fought the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose, anger burning in his chest. They’d be out here all night at this rate. “Yah, honeysuckle, you’re safe. Let Emile put the sweater on you okay? I’ll stay right here.” There was no one else in the park. Who would leave a child out here alone! One that had apparently been out here for a while if previous conversations with Emile were anything to go by. 

The branches didn’t move.

Perfect.

“Stitch.” Emile whispered, slowly lowering the sweater, stretching out a hand to the branches. “Please? You’re cold, let me help you this time.”

Remy frowned again, poking Emile in the back. “This time?”

Emile flinched. “He--ah...he hasn’t actually let me...touch him? Before. This is the closest I’ve gotten.” 

Oh for the love of! Remy shot to his feet. “Gurl!” 

The big guy was there, a plate sized hand on his chest holding him back and radiating heat like the sun, before he could take a step. “I said he was shy.” Emile said, eyes wide and pleading. “Don’t. Scare. Him.”

Ah huh. And in the process of not scaring him they were just going to have this mysterious friend freeze to death because there would be no way a simple sweater would help the kid survive the night! Remy growled trying to move around Emile, but it was like trying to move around a mountain. “The sound of that voice tells me that’s a child, Sugarbee. A FREAKING CHILD and you’re just letting him stay here.”

“He doesn’t trust humans!” 

That pulled him up short. “Humans.” Remy repeated, lowering his sunglasses. “HUMANS? Is he not human, Emile?” If this was an actual real life Stitch then--then!! 

Emile had the grace to look embarrassed. “I--I---uhh--” 

Remy threw up his hands. He would burn that particular bridge when he got there, But right now, he needed to see this ‘not human’ child and make sure he was safe. Remy ducked under Emile’s arm, scooping up the sweater in the process. “Hey Stitcharoo.” He said crouching at the base of the tree branches, ignoring the frantic warnings hissing like a teapot behind him as he pulled off his sunglasses, hanging them from the collar of his jacket. “It’s gonna snow again, tonight. You know. Get colder? Freeze. And my buddy here is like this giant heating blanket and wants to keep you warm. You’ll like the warm. I promise it’s--”

He froze as a child’s pale hand, nearly tinged blue, popped out of the tree, visibly shaking as it poked his cheek before jerking back out of sight. 

“It’s--it’s--I uhh Hi?” Remy stuttered out, brain trying to process what had just happened as he rubbed the spot the child had touched. 

Surely. Surely, he hadn’t seen what he thought he’d seen. There hadn’t been glittering scales on that hand. No. No trick of the light. Maybe it was cosmetic? Part of a costume?

The branches rustled before two hands, two scaled covered left hands, parted them, revealing a child’s face half covered in scales, peering back at him. “Hi.” The kid said, eyes -one golden, one a regular brown- shifting to Emile as he knelt down next to Remy before focusing on Remy himself. “Safe?”

“I--” Remy blinked before nodding dumbly as a third hand, a right hand with no scales on the pale skin this time, reached out to Emile’s ginormous hand. 

Suddenly Emile’s insistence that there needed to be six arms made a lot more sense. If Remy had already seen three hands, surely that could mean that there were three more still hidden out of sight. 

“You’re safe.” Emile said, gently taking the boy’s hand and squeezing it. 

The boy bit his lip before he surged forward straight into Emile’s chest. “Wa-warm.” He whispered, multiple hands gripping onto his coat as snow from the branches above showered down on top of them.

Remy tsked, quickly shaking off the white powder, heart pounding like a drum as he took in the ragged state of the kid’s clothes, the so called ‘sweater’ he currently wore was barely worth the name, only having two proper arms and four more holes in the sides for the--for the, Gee Manetti, the kid actually had six arms!!!! as Emile pulled open his tent of a jacket to wrap around the boy. 

“I got you. I got you.” Emile soothed as he scooped Stitch--Remy really hoped that wasn’t his actual name--into his lap, getting his bare feet out of the snow. 

The boy visibly shivered, tucking his toes -normal human toes beyond the left set being more scaled- into the crease between Emile’s shirt and pants. 

Remy bit back a growl. No shoes. Barely any clothes. Some welcome to Earth this kid got. Just because he had six freaking arms didn’t mean that the boy deserved to be abandoned! Even Superman had had a willing farm couple to look after him! 

“I hope you know he is not staying here.” Remy softly scolded, moving cautiously closer. Despite his misgivings about exposing the boy to the weather, he pulled Emile’s coat away so he could get his divine gift of a sweater onto the kid, a difficult feat as Stitch had practically glued himself against Emile’s side. 

The boy made a sound of protest, but didn’t fight him, eyes barely open as he watched Remy finagle the sweater over the rags he currently wore. 

It was pathetic. The boy was practically skin and bones! Remy could feel each individual rib as he tugged the fabric over him for crying out loud! Not to mention the arms themselves were practically sticks! This kid had been neglected for some time. It was--it was---Remy did growl. No one should have to live like this! 

“If you aren’t taking him home with you, by golly I will bring him to my place.” He said, pulling each sleeve over the boy’s ice cold hands. “Crofters! Emile, he needs another three sweaters, new pants, socks, SHOES, mittens--no no gloves. Probably gloves. This isn’t RIGHT!” The boy was COLD. His scales were like ice. How he wasn’t dead yet from hypothermia or frostbite was a mystery but No Ma’am was the kid gonna spend another night out here. “He needs soup, hot chocolate, a warm water bottle, a heated blanket a--”

“I know.” 

Remy jerked his head up at Emile’s quiet words. “Well. Good.” He pulled off his coat so he could slip his own sweater over his head and use it to create some temporary pants for the kid, until he could find something better. At least the boy had two normal legs so he could stuff one into each sleeve. 

“Do--” Emile cleared his throat, keeping his eyes firmly on Stitch’s hair. “Do you...have a place for him?”

Remy blinked as he slipped his own coat back on. “Do I---of course I do--do you not?!” What had he been planning to do once he got the boy to trust him? Leave him here?

Emile flushed, ducking his head.

Okay. Okay. He took a calming breath as the boy dropped two of his hands down to grab one of Remy’s in a tight grip, golden eye practically glowing as it flickered between him and Emile. “Rephrase. Do you have a place to stay yourself, Em?” 

“Not one safe for him.” Came the soft response. “I...it’s barely safe for me.” 

Barely safe for a guy who could feasibly dead lift a car? Punch a hole in concrete? He’d have to unpack the meaning of that particular admission some other time. Right after he had time to process that this kid had six freaking arms and was either an actual alien or escaped mutant experiment of some sort. 

“Right.” Remy exhaled, running his free hand through his hair. “Right. First. We get you both back to my place. Second. Get him warm and fed.” Maybe to a doctor--did he even know any doctors who could handle this?! “Third. Figure out living arrangements. Capiche?” Oh and Fourth. Figure out the boy’s actual name or give him a cooler one because no way would he be continuing to call him Stitch. 

That was a simple enough list right? Just four things. Nothing complicated about that. 

Emile blinked, adjusting his glasses. “But you don’t know me.”

Remy scoffed, squeezing the boy’s hands. Sure three days haraunanging the guy on how to properly thread a bobbin wasn’t a normal way to invite someone to be your roommate, but it wasn’t the worst way either. “I don’t know the kid either, Em. But I do know that he needs a home and if you need one too then you’ve got one with me.” The dude had a good heart. He’d been attempting to make a sweater instead of buying one and poking holes in it for crying out loud. 

“I--uh--” Emile cleared his throat. “Thanks.” 

“Don’t mention it.” At least not until he got them all out of the cold. Then they could talk.

The kid shivered again, tightening his grip on their hands. “Safe?” He whispered, resting his head against Emile’s chest, eyes flickering between them both. 

Safe? There was no question about it. Not with another snowstorm coming. Not when Remy desperately itched to pull out all his extra fabric from his sewing closet to throw onto the kid just to give him a proper, better fitting outfit. “Of course, honeysuckle.” He said, pulling the tent of a coat that Emile wore back over the boy to protect him from the cold. “We’ll keep you safe.” He looked up, meeting Emile’s eyes, smirking as he found acceptance there. “We promise.”