#tiny embroidery is my best friend it's so so so good

[skitskatdacat63]

For everyone who wanted bullfighter Nando when I mentioned it the other day, here you go :D

+ this one I don't feel like coloring yet(imagine he's in Ferrari colors!!!)

[g1rlken]

┏ Like real people do 2. ┐

Aemond Targaryen x wife!daemon’s daughter reader

⋆˚࿔ read part 1 here ˚⋆𝜗𝜚˚⋆

summary: blood and cheese, where daemon [the best dad (satire)] also orders for his daughter smuggled back to him, violent aftermath

an: there is no brothel Aemond subplot involved

word count: 5.2k

warnings: blood and cheese, canon violence, violence, daddy issues being mocked, arguments, once again blood and cheese

The war was afoot, degeneracies increasing, treacherous plans and endless councils. Amidst all of that y/n still found time to pay Haelena a visit as frequently as she could. Both of them had found impeccable friends in each other and the twins were always a delight. Striding through the halls of red keep, prodding her head inside with a soft knock on the queen's doors which were wide open as it is, "look!" y/n entered with a wide smile on her face. Twirling around she showed Haelena the dress she wore, it was a dress Haelena had embroidered for her with special spiders and other custom animals. Haelena had remarked on y/n's elegantly plain dresses, the edges could all use embroidery and y/n was more than glad to let Haelena design on her dress. "You made it so much better, the small bugs in blue thread it’s so beautifully assembled-" before she could comment more on the beauty of her queen sister's embroidery she was there to showcase, y/n was under attack of her niece and nephew, "why good morrow to you two!" she giggled as the two tugged at her dress for consecutive raise-me-ups. 

"I am very glad!" Haelena said offering her a smile as she scanned those designs, Haelena was warmly elated that y/n chose to wore the dress she had embroidered and the fact that she let her do it in the first place.

"You must teach me your ways" y/n commented whilst actively engaging with jaehaerys and jaehaera, she couldn't carry both the babies at the same time but she was trying to entertain them regardless, the two were latched to their auntie's knees like monkeys.

"I could always make you more, save you the time!" Haelena offered instead, she tried to distract whichever one of the children with a toy but both were way too smitten with their ever so busy aunt, now that she had the council she spent supposedly lesser time with the twins.

"That too would be so convenient!" Y/n said, Jaehaera was raised on her back, making mischief with her aunt as she tried to close her eyes with her tiny hands from behind. Both the twins laughing as she did so, regardless y/n laughed along trying to maintain her balance the best.

"That is enough..." Haelena trailed off in amusement as she helped Jaehaera off of y/n's back. The babe did not let go before whining about it, jaehaerys still tugging at his aunt's dress to get her to bend down so he could talk.

"It's alright" let out a small chuckle y/n's attention was caught down to the little heir pulling at her dress, for her to bend to his level. "Yes little prince?" She asked, attentive to her nephew's whims and demands.

"You said you were going to read to me" Jaeherys reminded her in a rather witty sense, having a sense of one upping her since she forgot about it.

"Oh did I now?" She paused for a second trying to remember when exactly was the reading session arranged for.

"Yes! The-the one with the fox and the-crows...where you do the voice!" The little prince was soon to remind her of which exact story they had left off from. He liked it better when his auntie read it to him than the wet nurses or his mum because she often did those giddy voices and the stories she read in were more entertaining than the ones with septa.

"Gods I must have forgotten" she said in a somewhat melodramatic tone to make the child think she took their reading session as a serious matter, "I have got some work on my hands at the moment but I assure you I will come continue the story-"

"When!" Jaeherys whined with a sort of tired expression given the delay in his story.

"Tonight." She answered genuinely, "Right after dinner!"

"Do you promise?" He asked wanting to take her aunty's word for proper surety.

"I promise." She said holding his tiny hands in hers giving them a gentle squeeze to assure him of her promise. Kissing both her niece and nephew on the forehead as she stood up, in attempt to take her peace Haelena stopped her.

"Are you not afraid?" Asked her sister in law with a tense look on her face, like those times when she would be out of it. As if she spoke another language and saw other things. "When the stones call you back?"

"What...what stones?" She asked, at first y/n thought Haelena was referring to some palace. Could this be in correlation to something with the council, is what y/n presumed.

"The stones. They will call you back!" Haelena gripped her elbows tighter, to emphasise the gravity of the situation she felt. "They'll take you away!"

"Nobody is taking anyone away..." y/n trailed off, shaking her head slightly as she ran her hand down Haelena's in a soothing way. "We are all safe here and there is nothing to be scared of. I promise you. I am not going anywhere." She assured her. Y/n assumed that it would worry Haelena to lose the best friend she had in herself if she were to go back because of the war waging. In her father's name perhaps, her worry was not unsolicited but y/n was sure her father's was a house not hers that is even before her marriage with Aemond.

Haelena could never seem to get her point across for some reason, she couldn't digest her wearies in a coherent way herself so she nodded with a small smile. The restlessness still consistent within her as y/n took her leave. Ever since the intimate moment with Aemond, their relationship had grown rather awkward. Aemond was closed off as always, unable to convey his infatuation. Awkward in this area, the young lovers found it difficult to navigate through a conversation. Bristling fingers through glasses, stealing glances, speaking out their love in small gestures.

That did not account for the fact that the council matters too seeped into the newlywed's marital bliss phase. Aemond too had a seat now, on the king's word. He would attend those meetings and at times the two would have drastically counter opinions. His lady wife, she would sit in the same line of seats after the hand and his mother. Speaking their minds against him, just as they had intended for her. A council within the council. "All you do is account for grand sire and mother, no such thoughts of your own. A mere puppet." Aemond scoffed as they were currently in a conversation in their chambers reflecting to that day's council meeting.

The day was at its end and as was y/n, end of her wits. His bickering was just what she needed, "And you?" she said in a tone more accusatory than his, rightfully so "all you add to the discussions is the warpath Ser Criston weaves."

"I stand for it, you just chew out what the council within the council spews" he scoffed, coming out harsher than intended but now this had become usual."I know you informed the hand of my meetings with Cole."

"Didn't do it as a snitch, had you asked me I would have told you I informed the hand." Y/n said trying to counter his condescending remarks. She wasn't a 'puppet' how he implied "Just because I do not agree with you doesn't make me a puppet to those with better judgment than yours."

"Better judgment than mine?" He let out a low huff finding it absurd that she believed Otto and his mother had a better judgment over the war than his, "you think writing to other castles, pleading, awaiting their help whilst we have three large dragons is a better judgement?"

"And what? What do you plan to do with the dragons? Burn all those against us?" She asked him growing agitated having this conversation again, "You are in favour of a lot of unnecessary bloodshed-"

"It is necessary. To make an example, to lay out a path." Aemond interrupted her, taking in a small breath "Raise your banners or watch them burn. This is what the blacks are already set to implement whilst we sit hand on hand sending out messengers!"

"You want to create a sense of fright! That is all you will accomplish with burning houses." She said in an assertive tone as she crossed her arms. This is what Ser Criston had told him too, the words struck him a small remembrance.

"Are you eavesdropping my meetings with Cole?" He questioned, as the reference resembled similar words to Cole's. Cole didn't exactly have the same notion as his wife but the words were vaguely same.

"You sit right across this room" she gestured to the adjoining room after their bedchamber. The small opening after their room led to the table against the wall where Cole and Aemond had their meetings, "The meetings you have after you assume I'm asleep, as it is too loud enough for me to not eavesdrop or be able to sleep."

"Of course" he couldn't help but roll his eyes, "You must have told the hand about it word for word yes? Like a parrot"

"Don't think of yourself too highly, your conversations are rather predictable even to those who aren't present" she replied. He wasn't wrong that she informed the hand about it but she took accountability for that.

"At least my conversations hold a spine" in two strides he reached the table she was leaning on to pour himself a glass of wine, "Unlike yours, but well that is what was intended for you" he shrugged.

For a moment, y/n sighed shutting her eyes "What are you implying?" She asked trying to maintain a calm composure because she was aware he would have words that would make antagonise her.

"You know, why you are in the council in the first place" he said in casual harshness. "Otto needed someone to voice his opinions like the righteous little lady that you are."

"I am on the council because of the seat I have inherited through my father." Y/n referred to the original conversation for her being on the council, he wasn't even part of that decision yet acted like he knew better than anyone. Smugly sipping his wine as he set his cup aside, the inherent smirk on his face irritated her to no end.

"You are claiming the father's seat who didn't even want to claim you?" He scoffed, Aemond could attest for the fact that he did not hate her in full surety. Rather fond of her too, but he was fond of his lady wife. The soft lover he did not knew he needed, big eyes that held love for everything they were laid upon. Tenderness and warmth seeping out the cracks of her which would mend the hollow cracks in him but it was the council member in her, otto's silent weapon which he could not stand.

In the process of wanting to get back at righteous council member he couldn't stand he truly hurt the daughter that begged for her world to sun, tears brimmed her eyes and she could not help it. She struck him across the face, the nerve of him. Shattered the home she thought she might finally have. He simply flinched at her action, his eyes widened a bit not at her gesture but at her tears. Registering her tears before the slap she landed her, at loss of words. "Leave." She spoke with a shuddered breath, couldn't even meet his eyes. Feeling stripped of the hope and pride she spent days building. Y/n had never raised a hand to anyone, that didn’t exactly harm Aemond in any way still the gesture in itself made her feel ugly after a moment’s silence marinated the interaction.

Without saying a word Aemond did leave, he didn't want to retaliate with her in any way. Because in that very moment both of them took a misstep and he did not want that moment to last longer. In a few strides he was out of their chambers. Y/n gripped the table to steady herself as the tears streamed down her face, a restlessness made home within her chest as she took heavy breaths.

The weight of all her despair was so heavy, at times she would just shut them in case and shove them deep inside her heart and inside her mind so she wouldn't have to face them in retrospect. It all just felt so inescapable, how she begged to be her father's daughter and how she was rejected the whole time. Now, farther away from him, bit by bit being at peace with the people she now surrounded herself with. Even in such state of distress she didn't feel alone any longer, she even felt loved. As far stretched as it sounded she even felt at ease with Aemond and he shattered all of it with just one sentence.

She lost the track of time since the moments of Aemond walking out as she just stood there falling apart, but when she felt some footsteps behind her she wiped her tears trying to compose herself. If there was anything she learned from her father it was that, nobody ever cared how much you fall apart so don't give them a reason to hold against you. Daemon always hated weeping children. Quickly she wiped her tears, she wouldn't want Aemond to think of her weak in these times. With a deep sigh she turned to face the footsteps she assumed was Aemond.

Apparently it wasn't. "Yes?" She asked with furrowed brows to the stranger who just walked into the room, not even a knock or an announcement like the guards or servants. The man wasn't even dressed like a guard or a servant. She stood alarmed taking a step further into the table as the man forwarded towards here without a word. "Guard-" she tried to yell as loud as she could but the man grabbed her head in a swift motion and shoved her into the table's edge. As if to knock her unconscious.

"Not another word or I kill you." Blood said with his hands around her neck, about to choke her as she struggled against him. Trying to grasp against his hands on her, trying to suffocate her she kicked her legs. Tried to scream regardless of his warning. With an extreme distaste for her, obviously, in blood's eyes the princess wasn't even worth so much and too much trouble to smuggle out. "Your daddy wants you back."

-

By the time the guards did find the princess, in the hallways, she was already half unconscious. Immediately rescued into the safest place in the keep, the council. Retrieved but not at all unharmed. The council was already set into course for the subject of the young prince when Larys walked in with y/n. He had previously informed her of what had happened with her nephew, his passing it hadn't really struck her yet given she could barely process all that had happened.

Queen alicent gasped as she stood up quickly running to y/n's side, all the bruises on her face, open cuts and bleeding out the torn sleeves in her dress. "Gods..." she exclaimed in horror as she helped her onto her seat. "What happened to her?" She asked Lord Larys.

"The guards found the intruder, trying to smuggle the princess out of the keep. A gold cloak known for his brutal nature, found with her, having inflicted his brutality upon her and...the prince's head, in a sack." He briefed the council as they all listened to him, everyone else but the king at loss of words. As Lord Larys left alicent was still tending to y/n, cooing at her, she seemed to be in a half conscious state.

"I am alright" she muttered to her mother in law as Alicent nodded but held her hand in hers to provide her whatever consolation she could. Just the sight of having suffered such assault sent the queen into a huge distress. Weakly holding her hand back as if to steady herself into this nightmare. When Lord Larys told her of Jahaerys's tragedy she did not believe it at all. She was confidently positive there must be some mistake in his information because that would not be possible at all.

If it wasn't for Aegon screeching in the background, y/n couldn't make out if she was actually awake in this very moment. The ringing in her ears still hadn't gone out and she wished that she would perish with that same ringing if it were to happen because living through this seemed so difficult. No way to navigate, circumstance so heavy she felt paralysed to meet anyone's face. Aegon was screeching as he wept for his son, blind with rage to kill the man found guilty for the crime. The member advised otherwise saying the king has a lot of enemies and they don't know for sure whose hand it could be.

"I suppose you are right..." Aegon trailed off slowly pacing down the table back to his seat, with an accusatory demeanour towards everyone else "it could be anyone of you, in this room."

A small silence fell, strengthening the tension and grief in the room as y/n just stared at the empty seat beside her. That very morning, just the day prior, where her nephew sat. Then Aemond after him, empty now. "It was Daemon." She declared of what she knew for sure, first time in her life she referred to Daemon with his first name instead of her father. After everything that he did, every misery she endured at the hands of her father, what happened now made her want to be distanced and foreign from him as much as she could. "His doing." She breathed and looked at the council, the drained colour on everyone's face she just registered-it was blinding her. "The man—the gold cloak" she continue, "trying to get a hold of me, h-he—he said 'your daddy wants you back.'" Repeating the words sent a chill down her spine as if she was in that very moment again, she still felt those hands on her, suffocating and heavy. A disgusting play in the mix. “That man came here, on Daemon’s order.”

The rest were comprehending that still, how a man could be so crude not only killing a child but having his own assaulted and kidnapped back home like this? " In one sense, as we determine what happened and...if we in the keep are still in peril. In another sense of course...it doesn't matter." Otto said and looked at Y/n. The princess surely did not seem to understand the hand's implication.

However Lord Tyland did so, "You mean to blame Rhaenyra." He said in a beat. "Tell the realm she had done this." Tyland spoke out Otto's implication.

"I'll have the realm told nothing! We were assaulted within our own walls, within our own beds!" Aegon spoke up almost immediately "Y/n, my brother's wife! The fucking princess almost beaten unconscious—being smuggled out?" He emphasised on the word brother, enraged even for his sister in law and the lack of his brother's presence when it must have mattered the most. "I will not be seen as weak!"

"You are already seen as weak aegon." Otto replied once again sending the king into a manic breakdown as he threw around more cups and vases. Otto theorised about how important it was to name Rhaenyra as a cruel person. Killer of infants, despite of whose direct orders those were. The narrative would be what they made.

"You would change, the blood that is on daemon's hand just to spite Rhaenyra." Y/n questioned, red eyes and characteristically on the verge of tears since she walked in here. Alicent found it so hard to look at her face, the cuts and bruises, poor thing. The heavy torment inside her head must be unimaginable, Alicent thought whilst holding y/n's hand a bit tighter. It felt like one of those moments when she was just a child, so many years ago. She would recall, the girl child was such a loner, always speaking in short words that is if spoken to. The shy little girl, who would just sit in a corner and colour or read. So much like her Aemond yet so different. When they would be in public settings, too many people, she would meekly hold Alicent's hand. Amongst all those unfamiliar faces. Little y/n just deemed Alicent familiar, comfortable. What was so wholesome years ago held such horror now. Alicent holding the lady's hand to provide her comfort her words won't be able to, the protection she could not. "Why won't you paint that man for the monster that he is?!" Y/n spoke as her voice broke, it felt unfair. Daemon not being held accountable yet again.

"Because, Daemon isn't the pretender to the throne. He would be the king consort. Banners are being declared for Rhaenyra, not in his name." Otto explained, to his preference narrative was just a useful toy. One name here or there did not make a difference.

"That is unfair." She said shaking her head, tears brimmed her eyes, taking in short breaths. In all these council meetings she did not speak up against Otto considering him respectable and more learned yet today, "how can you keep on accounting for him...again and again?!" Y/n asked but she was begging in agony. "Y-You were here. Always present. And you never did anything—all his heinous crimes! You always had the opportunity to hold him responsible and you did nothing!" She exclaimed, not being able to help herself as she thought back to a conversation at this very table. A conversation she must not have been there for, but the hand would have.

"It is perhaps your shock and grief speaking for you." Otto replied, not moved by the young lady's accusations at all. "I for one, do not understand your place of reference"

"When he murdered my mother!" Y/n said, growing more and more restless with her speech. Otto must be right, it was all the piled up grief inside of her speaking for her in this very moment but she could not let the monster that was her father be off the hook again, "You could've held a proper council, had him pay for what he did and we wouldn't be seeing this day today! We have that chance now and yet again you would rather Rhaenyra take the blame for his barbarism!"

Otto felt silent for a moment, the girl's rage was justified to the extent of him having no answer for her but he knew to trust his wit more, "I cannot undo...my regrets. I assure you I hold a lot of remorse in having a part in letting daemon go from daemon to the rogue prince and now this...monster. But if we don't do this, he would become king consort. The word consort is a feeble adjective." What he said was supposed to make sense to y/n but she could not see past the rage and need for vengeance she held against her father. Looking away, she wiped her tears. "A funeral progress. Let them see the child. Let them look upon the works of this pretender to the throne." Otto proposed once y/n was assuming-ly settled.

"Father" Alicent said with weary and concerned eyes, such tragedy being shouted out as a public funeral procession sounded so vain.

"My king..." Otto waited for Aegon's presumedly understood voice.

"No..." Aegon answered firmly "I will not have my little son's body dragged through the street like a dead dog." As he said that y/n felt nearly faint. To this very moment she did not accept that the child had passed.

"Not dragged, honoured." Otto corrected. "Escorted to the dragon pits to be burned as a Targaryen prince!" Otto went on and on about how he loved his grandson, his heart was in the right place with the grief yet the path he set was in accordance with the warpath. Just plots and schemes. Falling silent, paralysed y/n looked down to her lap. She refused to even register this conversation because it meant registering the fact that a darling child, Jahaerys...was gone.

Aegon couldn't stomach this proposal which came as an already arranged firm announcement either, looking around the room nobody said a word against the hand's plan. "You would say nothing?!" He demanded of y/n, why won't somebody help this mad notion. "Your dear nephew, have you nothing to add?" He was almost begging, hoping she would get the hand to change his mind for this funeral procession. She didn't, y/n just looked up at Aegon and then Alicent, tears in her eyes which just didn't seem to stop flowing. "Mother." Aegon called out when y/n couldn't speak up.

Leaving y/n's side Alicent walk's up to aegon, "the hand sets a difficult path, my darling. But it might be the right one." She told her inconsolable soul.

"Let the silent sisters ready the prince for his final journey." Otto said without waiting a moment for the king or anyone to come forth with opposition "And riding behind him, his mother the queen, the princess and the queen dowager."

"No, I do not wish to be spectacle." Alicent opposed instantly, the weariness and fright in y/n's eyes speaking the same "Especially y/n, not in this state. She can barely talk-stand, she has been terrorised. You can't simply—"

"The realm must see the sorrow of the crown. A sorrow best expressed through its gentle souls." Otto said followed by alicent sighing, then he looked at the side to y/n, "We need to display our heavily victimised as well" he said, the bleeding wounds on her face seemed like little trophies of sympathy to Otto. "I think you'll all agree the king himself must be spared."

-

A deafening silence lingered within Aemond, he had been out, sharpening out his swords, practising. Fucking practising on jute bags when he should've been there. Y/n was in Alicent's chambers because she could not walk into her own, couldn't even take in the sight of it. The thrashed furniture, from her struggling against the intruding gold cloak. The...the sack. In which he had stored the boy's head. Where the man had placed it in her chamber, at the entrance, it had created a circular stain of blood. Jahaerys's blood. She could not even think about the room within those four walls without picturing the insidious crime. She sat on the floor against the bed, windows open and soft white light of the day seeping in yet to y/n it still felt like a night of hailstorm. She didn't even look up to the footsteps of the stride coming inside the room, Aemond. He walked to her, kneeling down to the floor to her level.

Aemond was drenched with so much guilt in his heart, he felt pathetic to even breathe the same air as his lady wife. She had her face turned away from him, he could just see the small cuts on her face, the torn dress, still seeping out dried blood, her weary stature. It was all mortifying in the first place. He was so livid, with himself, with the intruder. Even with Larys, who informed him about the happenings at the last. By the time he rushed back inside the council was already done with. He had nothing he could say to y/n, no way of consoling her either.

It's not as if she would want to be consoled by him too, the emotional support he would want to offer her walked out with him when he walked out after their fight the previous night. With the disturbing things that had happened with her, she had almost forgotten the words he said. She couldn't even remember why she was crying before it all, that sick with grief. Aemond gently held her chin, hesitantly afraid she would turn him away. She had every right to do so. She didn't move him away, had no energy to do so. His heart sank as he saw the blood streaked stitches, poorly done and most of her wounds left untreated. "Why are these open?" He asked her softly, referring to her wounds, "Where are the maesters?"

"The hand, has asked for these to be left raw as they were planted." Y/n briefed him, her voice was so wavering, all that crying. "He means for them to be displayed for the funeral procession...so the realm can see" y/n scoffed softly as she repeated otto's exact words.

"You don't have to go." Aemond told her in a firm way, sure that he could get the hand to change his mind whether he liked it or not because y/n's comfort was his priority.

"No..." she trailed off, in agreement refraining to look at him her voice held no emotion. "But I do. I have to." She continued "Wouldn't want Haelena to be alone"

"Mother would be with her." Aemond added taking her hands in his softly, finally getting her to react to his presence as she looked down upon his gesture. Apparently to take her hands out of his grasp.

"But then I would be alone here..." She trailed off, a hint of frustration and fright in her tone. "I don't want to be alone."

"I would be with you, y/n." Aemond cooed softly fixing the loose strand of her hair, tucking it behind her ear as he leant forward. “You won’t be alone.”

"I find myself unable to put faith in you, Aemond." She breathed looking down, she felt like a cornered animal, just so scared and full of distrust. "...in your assurance. I'd rather not."

Aemond had nothing he could say to that. She did not trust the integrity of his principles and rightfully so. He knew he had broken that trust of security within her. "My heart, I apologise for the distress I have caused you. I did not mean any of it" he told her but the heaviness in his heart told him his words would change nothing. She couldn't talk either, bursting into tears and her stitches seemed to hurt because her face moved but she was so much numbed to the physical pain in comparison to how she felt inside. Aemond could just offer her his embrace in this time and that is what he did. Enlacing her into her arms, rubbing her back in soothing circles her let her cry into his chest. "They will pay for this." He muttered softly as he continued to hold her. Even with the pain he made her feel, the distrust and hurt she felt just in seeing Aemond could not let her turn away the familiarity of his comfort. His was the only comfort she had ever known.

-

Once again clarifying that the brothel subplot is absolutely NON EXISTENT in this fic Aemond Targaryen is a lot of things but not a cheater <333

Pls let know what you think about this + added to the tg list🫧

-

🏷️ @love-is-a-dagger @daddzawa @1109002 @void21 @annedub @teapartydreams @batmans-love @ih8books @oopsdownloadedrumblragain-blog @aemondwhoresworld @unsweetenedpeatea @immyowndefender @aleemendoza2425-blog @vane282-blog @atargaryenlover @targaryenswhxre @sabii5 @vibescanner @darylandbethfanforever9

[thehaberdasheress]

Breaking down the sewing kit

This required the most work of all the notions up on the shop, since I got and assembled all the pieces individually. I've got six of them to sell right now.

Included:

The tin: It's compact, roughly the size of a playing card, with a hinged lid that fits on snugly.

Seam ripper: Compact enough to fit into the tin, sharp, and nimble. (Pro tip: Keep the clear cap around to fit onto the butt end of the tool when you use it, and make life easier on your hands!)

Needles: 5 assorted sewing needles, sharps with different thicknesses and eye sizes.

Needle threader: I went on a quest to find decent ones, since the little tin ones in your average sewing kits break easily and drive me wild. The plastic flower is easy to grasp, and it makes threading your needle (especially when working with crewel wool or embroidery floss) SO much easier.

Thread: 5 metres/5.5 yds of glazed cotton quilting thread. Choice of white or black. I am SO sick of crappy sewing-kit thread, which is usually flimsy AND a nightmare to sew with, so I've spun up spools of my favourite handsewing thread instead. It's smooth and sturdy, and less likely to snarl or knot as you're working.

Pins and pincushion: The secret ingredient is a strong and tiny magnet, which sticks to the tin but can also be taken out. It keeps all 20 of these sharp glass-headed pins in line without breaking a sweat. Once I discovered magnetic pincushions, I never turned back. You just have to throw your pins at them to make them stick.

The sewing kit on Etsy

There are also three things I think are good accompaniments to the kit, but kept them separate to keep the kit's price down.

Thread wax: 100% beeswax thread conditioner. Running your sewing thread through the wax will make it much tamer and easier to deal with. It saves SO many headaches if you do a lot of sewing by hand.

Leather thimble: The handsewer's best friend. Comes in small adult and large adult sizes. I use these myself to keep handsewing from causing inflammation and nerve issues when I have a lot of embroidery to do. Leather thimbles allow sensitivity and freedom of movement I find hard to achieve with metal or plastic ones.

October 2024 special offer: If you buy kit, wax, and thimble all together, you get 20% off. That's a $20 CAD value, and a $16 CAD price.

[kikker-oma]

LU HEADCANNONS FOR EACH OF THE BOIS

ALPHABETICAL ORDER

Four

Looks at his feet ALL THE TIME while walking, he doesn’t wanna step on a minish. Speaking of which, aside from Legend, is the only one fluent in more than one language because he knows the picori language

His hair looks brushed? Nah, it’s not. He tried brushing it and it always gets tangled, but the knots are just so fine it doesn’t even look like it’s tangled, so he only brushes the top layer of his hair.

Hyrule

Keeps the peace. One of the only reasons that the chain isn’t at each others throats. Part of the reason is that he doesn’t know what half of these debates is about, but is very good at making each side seem like he agrees with them, even though he’s confused.

Memorizes facts about everybody’s Hyrule to be prepared. Is VERY keen on being prepared. Even though he may come off as chaotic, he always has a plan for whatever will go wrong. Very much belives in murphey’s law.

Legend

ANGSTY GUY. Seems talkative but NEVER talks about what he truly thinks just talks because he feels the need to show people that he exists and is strong.

Claims that he hates children. Yet he will hug any baby he sees. Absolutely adores children if we are being honest. He even got Sky to teach him embroidery so he can embroid little blankets for babies 🥹

Sky

Hopeless romantic. He will wax poetry about Sun for 25 hours seven days a week if you let him. He shares literally everything he’s interested in with her.

He sometimes (this is so OOC but idc) sends post cards of him and Fi to LD-301S Scrapper to make him jealous. He absolutely hates that tiny robot.

Time

Cryptic. Will spill traumatizing memories of his past but will make them so cryptic that nobody will understand WHAT he’s saying.

(I think we can all agree) a father at heart. He knows eventually he will have to bid his goodbyes to the other 8 members of the chain but REALLLLY doesn’t wanna.

Twilight

Will eat table scraps

Is either REALLY good at getting women or REALLY bad, depends on where and when. Even though he is he regrets everyone because he’s still sad about Midna.

Family therapist. He knows everybodies problems and never shares them to anybody else, he’s always there for everyone.

Warriors

Even if he flirts with women, he never wants to date anyone. He’s still kinda… traumatized about Cia. He is more of a “take you out on a nice date but remains just friends” guy. He knows it may come off as toxic but he has best intentions.

He actually got his scarf enchanted by a great fairy. It as a defense boost and attack up. There is a reason he wears it, gotta be fashionable and practical.

Wild

LOADED, like 999,999 rupees. Because of this, for each era he goes to, he buys a yard of fabric for his home era. He will find use for it… some day.

As much as he and Flora are… alright together. He is still salty about her. He knows that she was struggling with finding her own destiny, but he still doesn’t like how he was treated.

Wind

Do NOT challenge him to any card game. At all. He will win he will take all your rupees and there is nothing you can do to stop him. And by the rare case that you DO beat him, he will pull the “young innocent baby boy” card which makes you want him to win and end up revoking your winner status.

A mischievous boy. Will poke people with his wind waker and finds it hilarious ever. Single. Time. The amount of times Wars literally had to hide it from him as he kept using the “control” power (idk what to call it) is uncountable. People would think that he taught Aryll all of this, but nope. Aryll was the one that taught him all those tricks. It runs in the family.

Ooohhhh these headcannons are so fun!!!

Fours little fairy knots in his hair is oddly adorable

Hyrule being the peacemaker instead of sky is really refreshing and I feel like more on oar for his character tbh!

Legend embroidering baby blankets has my heart MELLTIIINGGG😭❤️

Sky being a gremlin to Scrapper is also VERY true to his character. Sky is the best little piece of crap 🤣🤣

Time being SO cryptic hahaha and why shouldn't he be? It's so much more fun that way LOL.

Me feeding Twi all my scraps

Poor wars, Cia really is disgusting😠

Wild being rich🤣YES HAHA and they would be so shocked too lolol

Wind will BANKRUPT wild in a game of cards haha that would be a night to remember lol

[solarmorrigan]

Little epilogue to the “Steve crochets Eddie a scarf” story (I promise I’m done now)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Ao3

“What are you working on?” El asks, leaning slightly into Eddie’s space to watch as he works.

Eddie pulls his latest stitch tight and tilts the fabric a bit so El can see the patch he’s securing. “I’m putting my new battle vest together,” he says. “Since someone bled all over the last one.”

“You knew I was bleeding when you gave it to me!” Steve snaps from the other end of the couch. “Anyway, we salvaged most of the patches, I don’t see why you have to keep complaining about it.”

“Because you’re so pretty when you’re irritated,” Eddie says, and he can hear Will give a snort of laughter from where he’s bent over a sketchpad on the floor.

Baby Byers is the latest addition to their little group of creatives; he doesn’t do anything with yarn or thread, but he does set up with colored pencils or, sometimes, a little set of watercolors and listens while Steve and Joyce gossip.

(His presence has stumped Steve’s continued efforts at naming the group, however.

“Five people probably makes up, like, an actual circle, but he doesn’t do… fabric-related things,” Steve ponders.

“Call it a craft pentagram,” Eddie suggests.

“No,” Steve vetoes immediately. “Besides, it’s six when Murray shows up.”

Right. That guy.

Eddie isn’t quite sure what he thinks of Murray Bauman just yet; he doesn’t appreciate the relentless roasting of his and Steve’s “honeymoon phase” (Bauman’s words, not his), but it is funny watching him threaten to teach Steve how to knit. In either case, Bauman and Joyce are good friends, so he’ll have to be included in the final group count.

Eddie and Steve decide to think on the name a little longer.)

“What is a battle vest?” El asks.

“It’s a metal thing. You put stuff like patches and pins onto a vest to show off the bands you like, the stuff you support, the stuff you don’t support – shit like that.” Eddie spreads the vest out a bit more to show El what he’s gotten done so far; he’s collected a few more patches since this spring, and he’s still considering what he wants to do with the pack panel, but he thinks it’s really coming together.

El runs a finger over the Motörhead patch. “And you sew it yourself?”

“That’s the only way to do it, kid.” Eddie grins. “My uncle Wayne taught me to sew when I came to stay with him. Said it was something everyone should know how to do.” Here, El nods wisely, and Eddie can see both Steve and Joyce grinning in his periphery. “I’m pretty sure I fidgeted and fussed through every single lesson, but he was right. I was glad I at least knew the basics once I started putting my first vest together.”

El studies his work a little longer before declaring, “It’s bitchin’,” and startling a bark of laughter out of Eddie.

“Thank you very much,” he says, pulling the vest back into his lap. “At least someone appreciates it.”

“Not taking the bait,” Steve drawls.

“Did you do these, too?” El draws Eddie’s attention back; she’s brushing a thumb over the bottom hem of the vest, where Eddie has sewn in a tiny swarm of bats in purple thread.

“Oh. Yeah, those are mine,” Eddie says. “That’s a little different from what I’m doing with the patches. Just some dumb embroidery.”

“I like it,” El says, looking up at him. “Would you show me how?”

Eddie blinks, taken aback by the sincerity in the request. “Uh – well, yeah, sure. I think I’ve got some extra stuff at home I can bring next time. I’m not, like, the best at it, but–”

“Thank you.” El cuts off Eddie’s uncertainty with a smile. “And I can show you how to crochet.”

Eddie can’t say he’s ever really wanted to learn how to crochet – or that he’d even really known what it was until a few months ago; he’s mostly been content to leave that particular craft to Steve.

He glances over to where Steve is sitting now, frowning over the blanket (afghan?) he’s finally decided to try his hand at; despite what Steve says about not being sure about what he’s doing, it’s coming out beautifully. Eddie knows it’s going to end up a prized possession on Buckley’s bed when it’s done.

From the chair beside Steve’s end of the couch, Joyce catches Eddie’s eye and gives him a sly smile he finds he can’t help but return.

And as Eddie thinks about it, it’s a gift all on its own, isn’t it? Getting to teach someone something you know, getting to learn something from them, too. And hell, you can never have too many hobbies.

“Yeah,” Eddie finally says, turning back to El. “Why not?”

[mpchev]

Update on fanbinding dissertation: more typesetting, more test prints, more guillotines!

I’ve now spent 23 hours learning how to fanbind! Having SO MUCH FUN, despite the tiny bit of panic that has started to settle in — everything else also takes a lot of time, and these fanbinding hours could have been spent reading more of the abundant fanbinding / fan studies / folklore research, or working on transcriptions, or getting some writing done. Going for equal parts of “it’s all about balance” and “fuck it we ball”.

I ordered some supplies from Ratchford a few days ago — I’ll need to order some more because I was mid flare-up when I did it, so brain was mush and I forgot a bunch of things, but! I now have enough supplies to do some of the next steps.

My new best friend the blue guillotine from the last update? Not such a good friend after all, test signatures were very uneven. Mentioned I was looking for an alternative to one of my profs, and he lent me his own! (Thanks Tom!) It is also blue, I’ll miss it dearly when I have to give it back. Walking around campus casually carrying a guillotine made me feel like the most interesting person in the world, many opportunities for French revolution jokes, highly recommend.

Spent a day at the library finishing up the typesetting, and doing some more printing and cutting tests. With the actual fic on the page instead of the SFW version, so here’s a title reveal if you squint (I’m binding 5 short fics together, had to come up with something). Was worried about regular printer paper looking way too blue-white for a book, but that printer had recycled paper as an option and it looks so much better. Huge thanks to Kait for the moral support, the carrying of the guillotine when I couldn’t, and the pictures of me doing things.

Spent the night making a punching cradle out of millboard (using embroidery scissors as an x-acto knife?! do not recommend) and PVA glue, after seeing someone else posting about how easy it was. (Now, is it somewhat functional? Yes. Should I maybe have googled it a little instead of just eyeballing it in a trance state of Must Do Something Now? Also yes. Later found a great youtube video of what I should have done instead, might give it a go later.) Then punched some holes (so far, feels like I didn’t need to get an awl/my awl is way too big, but we’ll see), and then sown my two more test signatures, one with more embroidery floss and one with the linen thread I now have. Something feels a bit off in the very-thin linen thread + recycled paper + big awl + wonky punching cradle combo, not sure which one to blame, probably a bit of everything. The collection of test signatures keeps on growing!

Went back to the library the following day, printed one more test signature (in case the printer had decided to grow a new personality overnight), and then the two copies of the actual book! Sliced all the sheets in half, put them in the right order, folded the pages, arranged them into signatures, and sliced them to the actual size. Thought I messed up by folding the signatures before cutting them to size, but that turned out to be a better way to do it. They look SO GOOD and SO REAL, I am SO HAPPY, this is SO SATISFYING, I desperately want to learn how to make paperbacks next to carry them everywhere. Also want to bind bigger books. Look at that happy autoethnography face.

Next steps: sewing the signatures, getting the missing supplies, attacking the terrifying ordeal of casing those bitches.

[something-special-you-are]

yahh this is my ch1 of my first nellfia fic. it's a modern art student au set in the darkroom. go read it babay!!!! pasting it onto tumblr for convenience if u like.. feedback (or reading it at all) is appreciated so much.. i love u

Chapter One:

dead art/impossible things

Nell cursed herself.

She had a free afternoon, and owed Charles a favour - never, ever a good place to be. They were both Foundation students at Broadwater School of Art in Tottenham: old friends from the same year, though rather different disciplines. After a darkroom-related incident that he refused to dig into the details of, he had found himself in Sofia Blancheford's bad books - arguably an even worse place to be. She took rules and regulations very seriously, and though she didn't technically hold any power over what Charles did with his life, the lab was essentially her domain.

"You're not scared of her, are you?"

"Yes! Yes, I am. Please, Nelly, she likes you."

"No, she doesn't."

"Well, she tolerates you a little more than she tolerates me. Which is a big deal."

"Get Amadin to do it, she actually likes him."

"He's a busy man, Nell, and he hates conflict, you know this."

"What, and I love it, do I?"

Claiming pitifully to be banned, he had sent her downstairs to print the photos from a black-and-white fashion shoot of his, tooled with a thin plastic wallet containing the strips of negative film, a contact sheet with the best photos circled along with some numbers, and clear-ish instructions. Holding the sheet up close, they were lovely photographs, Nell thought - they displayed some of the elaborate costumes that Charlie had been crafting over the past couple of months. He was currently upstairs in the main studios, absolutely going to town on an embroidery hoop, desperately trying to finish the details of some decorative garment before the fashion crit next week - meaning he was especially grateful for her help.

The sculptor herself hadn't been in the laboratory since last year, and found it a generally disorienting place, smelling too strongly and all decked out in old, heavy, menacing equipment.

Unfortunately, she was a good friend - and since she rathered Charles not be killed, she stuck by her favour. Hopping down the stairwell, she passed the entrance leading out to the sculpture yard, where early March sunlight and fresh air pooled into the building. Clay dust floated from her jeans to swim around in the pale rays, and she walked a little slower. She turned the corner onto a hallway she rarely came by. The lightroom door was invitingly open.

As soon as she walked in, the harsh vinegar-like smell filled her lungs, and she grimaced. She'd reek by the end of the day. It wasn't a tiny room, but it was packed full; a chemical-stained metal basin stretched the length of the wall, which displayed dozens of safety information sheets, and grids declaring measurements; strings hung from the ceiling, dotted with paper hanging from wooden pegs; plastic equipment that Nell couldn't identify overflowed the shelves above the counter opposite. The door to the darkroom stood to the left, heavy and foreboding and plastered with warnings that Nell didn't bother reading.

She pushed it open and let it click shut behind her, allowing the pitch black to swallow her. Memories of a short, dark corridor returned - there was a second door up a few yards ahead, and all Nell had to do was find the handle - easy enough, but the consuming darkness disoriented her slightly. Fumbling with the final door, the dull red lamps that lined the darkroom ceiling were revealed, along with the quiet, albeit spooky whisper of running water. The light blue trim of her dirty white t-shirt turned grey. It was like stepping into another dimension. She knew the enlargers she needed stood against the walls, so clutching her materials, she moved blindly, and a little too confidently, away from the door - it was not as straightforward as that. She made it not two paces before colliding with an inky, fluttering shape that materialised in the middle of the room. Nell jumped and scrambled to get out of the way.

"Jesus Christ!"

"Watch yourself! And knock, please," they replied indignantly, clearly ruffled.

"I can't see a bloody thing! I thought I was alone in here, you scared me!" Nell protested, then regretted it slightly, because she had no way of knowing who she might be arguing with.

Squinting to adjust her eyes, she made out a dark head of hair and a sharp, cross little face. It was, indeed, Sofia Blancheford. She was not so lucky to have the lab to herself. They were classmates, and vaguely knew each other through Amadin and Charles, but rarely crossed paths - mainly because Nell was usually out and about in the yard, or bouncing around the studios, and Sofia was usually locked up in here. Nell had seen her work during crit; she was a fantastic student. She probably knew more about the darkroom than the technician did. As well as this, she was also reserved, aloof, and a little moody - not unkind, but no class clown, indeed. And now, Nell Trotter had waltzed into her domain and almost knocked her right to the ground without so much as a hello, how are you.

"It says 'knock,' in big red letters on the door," she snapped.

"Right. Well. Sorry. I'm not a big reader," Nell offered, somewhat sarcastically, somewhat flustered. Sofia gave a sigh of exasperation in response, and mumbled something about how it's a good thing I wasn't holding anything dangerous, strutting over to the basins to continue whatever sorcery she was up to. Nell rolled her eyes under cover of darkness, and located an enlarger to work on.

It was time to dust off her photography knowledge. According to her expertise, there was one thing she would need for certain.

"Um, where's the paper?"

There were a couple seconds of silence following Nell's sheepish request, before a curt voice crossed the room in response.

"In the fridge."

Low humming suggested the refrigerator running gently in the corner.

It glowed crimson on the inside to match the rest of the room, and was stacked with boxes of paper and film. She browsed the labels, and made the brave choice to crack a joke.

"No chance of me getting to store my lunch in here, is there? Only, the shared fridge is-"

"No," came the voice again.

Nell smiled to herself and picked the most familiar A5 package, and retrieved a few sheets. They were nice and cold on her fingertips. She inspected them as she sauntered away.

"People keep nickin' my sausage rolls, see," she lamented, to a resounding silence, and arrived back at her station.

Zoning back in, she fiddled with knobs and buttons until she felt confidently refamiliarised, and set to work inserting the first set of slides into the top of the enlarger; she adjusted the size and position, then happily lined up a sheet of paper under the projection, ready to print. She began to feel quite relaxed. The darkroom disoriented her at first, but the ambience of the low light, the gentle hum of electricity, and the soothing, aquarium murmur of the waterbath brought her peace.

She couldn't get too comfortable, because just as she was about to slide away the red filter and expose her paper to white light, Sofia broke the silence once more.

"Is it in focus?"

She was back at her own station, just a few paces to Nell's right, and poked her head around at her classmate's hasty setup.

"Huh?" Nell replied astutely.

"Your slide, is it in focus?"

Before she could protest, Sofia had already floated into her personal space, holding what looked like a little microscope.

"Is this Charles' work?" she interrogated, more than asked.

"I'm doin' him a favour."

Sofia hummed in response.

"Interesting," she muttered, in a way that made Nell wonder why it was interesting at all. "The paper's upside down."

Nell cringed at Sofia's blunt observation, and shamefully flipped it right-side-up, the shiny, light-sensitive layer revealing itself. The shorter woman leant over the paper, placing down her little tool and scrutinising it through the lens.

"It's not in focus. It's blurry," she confirmed, and twisted a little knob around in minute adjustments. For all her proud independence, Sofia was certainly a busybody.

"There. Look now," she ordered, and Nell peered through the little magnifier the same way her classmate did. She saw crisp shapes, the finest grains of the film emulsion. Not really caring, she stood up straight and attempted to shove the tool back in Sofia's direction.

"Right. Thank you. I can get on with it now, if that's alright," she dismissed, eager to be left alone, but Sofia was occupied by squinting at the numbers lit-up on Nell's equipment.

"You're going to overexpose this, surely?"

Nell sighed and shrugged, not really sure how to respond.

"Give me that," Sofia gestured at the contact sheet, somehow making it sound polite. Nell surrendered it reluctantly, and she scanned the digits Charles had scrawled.

"He's written them down, and everything, it's right here," Sofia uttered with confusion. It made Nell feel stupid. There's no reason why she should know what those numbers mean.

"They're his photos, I don't know why you care."

"If you're doing a favour, do it properly. I'll set the ISO and exposure for you, and you can print the rest," she announced decisively.

Nell threw her hands up, because she knew saying 'whatever,' out loud would earn her a nasty glare. She watched as Sofia turned a numbered wheel at the top of the enlarger. The image below got dimmer. She then adjusted the little control panel on the desk, decreasing a digital countdown timer from twelve seconds to four.

"There."

Nell mumbled an ungrateful thank-you, but it was clear Sofia didn't really care whether her help was appreciated or not. She was already busying herself on a different enlarger, once again consumed by her own work.

Turning back to the paper in front of her, Nell decided to just get on with it. She turned the projection off, removed the filter, and pressed a button, and it came back on in pure, gentle, white light. After four seconds it automatically shut back off with a pleasing click, and Nell whisked away the paper, satisfied.

Both students approached the basins with a piece of paper each. The station was a metal rectangle that jutted out at least ten feet from the wall, and was divided into three sections - two long, shallow troughs than ran side-by-side, and the waterbath, which took up the outermost end. The two dry areas had three labeled trays in them each, likely leftover from a workshop, and a tap and drain against the wall. There were pairs of metal tongs in each tray. A handy glow-in-the-dark clock overlooked it all, second hand turning, and a poster listing development times was displayed alongside. Sofia submerged her paper into the first tray, opposite of Nell, checked the clock, and began to tilt the liquid back and forth. Nell did the same, into the tray labeled 'DEV' - she was to leave it in there for sixty seconds, according to the poster. As time ticked by, she watched the magic happen before her very eyes. Under the shimmering reflections of overhead light, the paper at once went from pure white, to clouded with faint grey, to painted with deep, varied tones as the image shyly revealed itself.

"Holy shit," she muttered to herself in awe, and Sofia concealed a genuine smile.

Sixty seconds passed, and they transferred their prints to the trays labeled 'STOP'.

"Yours is dripping everywhere, let the developer drain off a little first. You'll dilute the other trays," Sofia nitpicked.

"Yeah, yeah."

Ten seconds passed in the stop-bath, and Nell scooped the photo up between the tongs.

"Try it this time, don't make such a mess."

Nell rolled her eyes, but did as she was told, and transferred the paper neatly to the final, stronger-smelling tray, labeled 'FIX'. Two minutes would pass in this one, and they passed without words. Sometimes Nell would glance up at Sofia, watching her waiting, and sometimes Sofia would glance back. It didn't really feel as awkward as it should have. Nell lost track of the clock, and snapped back to the task when Sofia moved hers into the wash. They mirrored each others' actions the whole way through. Nell drained hers properly before plunging it in, and they stood at the end of the station, looming over the inky water. Both prints spiralled around in the current amongst other unclaimed pieces.

Nell's (or, Charles') photograph had come out beautifully. The scribbled numbers were correct, and Sofia had adjusted the settings perfectly - the image appeared in sharp focus, with intense tones and exact contrast. She felt a subtle buzz of relief that she might not fuck up the entire batch for him.

The constant water flow babbled over the silence. They lingered there, watching the intricate, mottled images as they somehow contained themselves into neat little squares and swam hypnotically through the blackness. Sofia looked down at them fondly, before delicately rolling up her sleeves and dipping her hand in. The nebulous reflections on the water's surface scattered at her touch. Nell had a feeling that she might react similarly, in its place; Sofia's hands were fine, but agile, and professional in everything they did; they were tools of creation, or magic, or whatever you wanted to call it, and they were at work. She fished out her newest piece, after dragging it to and fro a couple of times under the surface to ensure the chemicals were washed away. Nell instinctually copied her, and the cold water felt good as it swallowed up to her wrist. Her own hands seemed rough and clumsy in comparison. Sofia made a habitat out of the lab; she belonged there, she suited it, in all her witchy, gossamer mystique. They were symbiotic. The woman's probably got night vision.

They inspected the prints together. Some kind of wispy double-exposure shimmered between Sofia's finger and thumb. Nell saw a drapey figure, barely there, disappearing into itself amongst the various other ethereal shapes. Most of it looked like fabric, a spectral veneer of some sort that gathered and stretched, and it glowed. A light source - a flame, maybe - made its way up the composition. The black space was minimal, but it located the subjects in an otherworldly, all-consuming nighttime.

Nell clutched a nonspecifically historical-looking portrait of Charles. Half of his monotone, made-up face was hidden by both a large, ornate fan - cradled in a silk white glove - and the shoulder of an absolutely huge velvet coat, the texture of which had been captured in soft, minute detail. Embroidery, feather trims, buttons, novelty seams, decorative tassels and lace all made for a display of delightfully handcrafted camp. His mouth was hidden, but his eyes smiled coyly at the camera - there was no trace of satire in his expression, or his pose. He might have been in character. He was elegant, feminine, sincere, and squinting in a manner she could recognise anywhere, from behind any outfit - for all of his elaborate, transformative costumes - to Nell, Charlie was distinct.

"He looks quite pretty," Sofia remarked. Nell smiled back at him.

"Yeah, he'll be thrilled to bits with these."

She looked back over at Sofia's work, struggling to find words for the deep, vague mourning - the intense feeling that she is missing something, that an opportunity has been left behind, that the past is running away from her faster than she can catch up with the future - that the picture brought onto her. Water trickled down her forearm and sank into her t-shirt.

"What's, um, your project about?" she asked, rather plainly.

Sofia's eyes flicked between Nell and the photograph, then tilted her head thoughtfully.

"I'm interested in impossible things."

Nell wasn't sure what she as expecting, but the answer intrigued her.

Sofia continued - "Imagine going back in time three hundred years, and showing this to someone. They wouldn't believe it. I can barely believe it. I'm interested in what we don't believe in - the supernatural, if you can call it that. Three hundred years ago, they would hang me for witchcraft, because they wouldn't believe this to be possible without witchcraft." She laughed, even at this morbid thought, without sarcasm; Nell couldn't help but smile at the usually no-nonsense woman's passionate affection for her work.

"I like the idea of comparing traditionally inexplicable myth and legend to the mysteries we've now since solved, and the technology we have today. We're always trying to rationalize things - I mean, analogue photography itself: we can study chemical reactions all we want. We can explain it and write research on it 'til our brains melt. It will never become simple, or dull, or earthly. Just because we understand it doesn't mean it isn't magic."

She looked up at Nell, in a genuine search for connection. She spoke every word like it meant the world, and to her, it really did.

"People can get focused on the most efficient way to get the most predictable end result. They look for corners to cut, control, replicability - making these reactions happen by hand is the antithesis of that. They treat it like a dead art. I love the process. I need the magic."

The whimsy her words held was like nothing Nell ever would have expected from Sofia Blancheford. She watched as those glittery eyes drifted gently back down to the print. Her hands and face were hazy and velvet in the crimson glow of the safelight; there was a mole under her lower lip. A halo of downy black hair incandesced in a similar hue above her head. Nell realised she must have been staring, and felt her own face turn a deep scarlet to match the party - she hoped it camouflaged well. She cleared her throat.

"Well, you're very smart, and the pictures are really good. I hope you write all that down. Very handy for evaluation."

Sofia smiled at her shyly, appreciating even the bluntest of praise. Nell dunked her print back into the cold water.

"I'd better do the rest of these bad boys. Thanks for fixing my stuff."

With that, she turned away briskly and attended to her station. The time passed rather smoothly after that - Nell fell into a peaceful, focused rhythm of work, and Sofia nursed her own creations a couple of enlargers away. Every so often, Nell would crack a joke into the comfortable silence, and Sofia would either ignore her, or crack a funnier one back. If she ever actually laughed, she did it very quietly. To begin with, the company was disappointing at best, and intrusive at worst, but now Nell found herself feeling content to work alongside Sofia - that was, when she wasn't being told off for something inconsequential. Gradually, she hated Charles less and less for getting in trouble and putting her into this situation.

There were around a dozen chosen photos he had circled, and each one was a treat, so it didn't feel like much work at all. He wanted to work in theatre, making costumes and puppets and the like, and his portfolio agreed with him - in the second, he wore a bandit's mask around his eyes, an excessively feathered hat, and a very meek pencil moustache.

In another, he wore a huge, cascading cloak of some sort, patched and quilted and embroidered with dozens of images, flora and fauna and people - a testament to his patience, it seemed. He looked away from the camera, and the garment took up most of the image. It was more of a textile artwork than a functional costume.

Someone lay on the ground in a landscape composition, crowded with faux-fur and other heavy textural materials. It could have been Charles under there, but it was impossible to tell. From the shoulders up, they were obscured by a large sculptural boar's head; it was papier-mâché - Nell had seen it before. It lay there as if dead; it was weathered and off-putting, but Nell's favourite of the bunch. Its monstrous nature, and the ambiguity of the wearer underneath, recalled ritual folk costumes depicting spirits and the like, blurring the line between man and beast. Things like this had interested her for a while. She supposed it wasn't all too different from Sofia's proposal - a deep fascination with the far-fetched - realizing all the wild, inconceivable stories that people must see to believe, and once they believe, they go in terror of.

"Very interesting work," came a voice in her ear.

Nell almost leapt out of her skin when she noticed Sofia peering at the photos from over her shoulder. She hovered like a phantom, wispy hair brushing against Nell's cheek; she didn't seem to care a bit that she had almost stopped the taller woman's heart, and just frowned at her.

"No need to be jumpy. There are only a few vengeful ghosts living down here."

Breezing behind Nell with a dry tray in her arms, she began fishing out the other prints floating about.

"I don't know why you decided to help with Charlie's stuff, if you're so annoyed with him."

Sofia cocked her head innocently. "Why would I be annoyed with him?"

The rather cutthroat photographer wasn't one to hide a grudge, and Nell wondered if she had gotten the story mixed up. Before she could ask any further into it, Sofia gestured to the small pile of wet papers.

"I take it you're all finished? Are you coming to dry them off?"

"Yeah, alright, don't rush me," Nell replied, and deposited her handiwork into Sofia's tray, who waited impatiently by the door for her protégé to gather her other belongings.

"Thanking you kindly," Nell bowed as she passed through the first door that Sofia held open considerately, but was called back with a sharp, "Wait," quicker she could rush to open the second, risking flooding daylight into their little liminal realm.

"Always wait for this door to shut. You could ruin someone's work. It's also why you knock," Sofia ordered.

"Right, wonderful. Well, to my knowledge, literally nobody is in there. Unless they've been extremely quiet."

"It's about the habit," she insisted. By now, the interior door had long since shut and they were arguing in pitch black. Nell didn't care to stay longer than she needed. She swung open the entrance to the lightroom and squinted at the sudden contrast.

"Christ alive, it's like coming out of a casket."

She turned to see Sofia emerging from the gloom - dressed in practically mourning clothes, long hair matching the tone, face as pale as a vampire.

"Explains a lot, actually."

Sofia looked up from the tray, not listening.

"What?"

"What are we up to, then?" Nell diverted, coming to stand annoyingly close to the other artist's side. She hadn't yet seen her under proper light that day, away from the dreamy veil of the laboratory, and gave her a once-over. She wore black, corduroy trousers, that flared slightly over equally black, practical boots. In a tasteful shade of very dark charcoal, she wore a thin, long-sleeved black top that came up high on her throat. The bright blue lanyard almost spoiled it. You'd think she was trying to camouflage in there. No wonder I knocked into her, Nell thought, wear a bloody hi-vis next time.

Sofia didn't care enough to budge, and instead handed Nell a small stack of prints.

"Peg these up, for now."

She turned on a rather loud drying machine and began to feed some photos through; Nell turned to the basins, where strings were suspended wildly from above like vines. They fell into another comfortable silence, facing opposite walls, and the clock ticked closer to the end of the day.

Eventually, Sofia turned the machine off (its absence was noticeable), and she came to busy herself alongside her classmate with a few contact strips that were too small to go through. After a minute, she glanced over at the taller woman, diligently working, and turned thoughtfully to face her.

"You've got a striking side profile," she casually commented. She reached up to Nell's jaw in her fingers and tilt it for a better view.

Nell felt her insides scattering and turning over themselves, like those silvery reflections in the waterbath. She was taken by surprise, but barely thought twice about letting the smaller woman pose her around like a show pony - before she came to her senses and batted the hand away.

"Buy me a drink first, yeah?"

Sofia didn't dignify her with a laugh.

"I don't do many portraits, but I should have you model for me."

She didn't really phrase it like a question. That was the thing about Sofia - she didn't need to speak in hypotheticals. She had that sure-of-herself, naturally commanding presence that seemed to come with being a bit posh.

"Not in a million years, sweetheart."

"I remember when Charlie swindled you into it. You're a bit of a natural. I'd put my own spin you," she reasoned, as if it were an offer she couldn't refuse.

Nell remembered that shoot too, from a few months ago, though fuzzily - it gave her feelings, ones she couldn't place. Sofia was there, to help with the setup, and so was fashion student Polly, as another model. The work was fantastic, but for all of Nell's can-do attitude and brash personality, she was implausibly camera-shy.

"I owed him, again."

"Then I'll have to find you in my debt, somehow."

Again, it came with being posh - but Sofia's intonation did make it sound slightly flirtatious. Nell stood her ground.

"Not happening."

Sofia placed her hands on her hips thoughtfully, narrowing her eyes at her stubborn classmate.

"I have given you my time this afternoon."

"I never asked you to. And that weren't for my benefit, it were for Charlie's."

"I could just as easily have left you to figure it out on your own. You'd have been here 'til dusk."

She raised an eyebrow. Nell squirmed under Sofia's persuasive gaze.

"Let me pick my clothes," she bargained, "And I'll think about considering it."

She held out a handshake, which Sofia suspiciously, hesitantly, reached for. A mistake - Nell, like obnoxious lightning, yanked it out of the way and ran a hand through her hair instead. It was an admittedly smooth execution. She sucked air through her teeth awkwardly as if it were an accident, and grinned mischievously at Sofia.

"Ooh, I ain't that easy, love. Cheers for the science lesson, though, yeah?"

Sofia did not smile. She very clearly seethed, but spoke calmly as ever.

"You are insufferable."

"Good one. I'll see you around, Sof."

The clock struck four. With a suave wink and click of her teeth, Nell took her folder (and blinding grin) and bounced out of the department door, disappearing out of sight - leaving Sofia alone with a flush of furious embarrassment and the familiar notion that something important had slipped through her fingers.

[malspinningyarns]

Random thoughts on Bridgerton Season 3 rewatch episode 1

I love Portia’s Norma Desmond-esque coat when she leaves the carriage.

Do the Bridgerton girls reuse the same court dress or are they just really similar? Same cut and fabric, different embellishments?

Parrot!

I think Colin’s return hair is my favorite styling. So swoopy.

There is a tiny bee embroidered on Benedict’s waistcoat

It is the Stowells who use BSL in the debut at Court , so I think it is Lady Stowell who is Deaf. I think we hear Miss Stowell speak later talking to Benedict.

What is the order the debutantes get presented in? I can’t figure it out

Poor, sweet Francesca is so bad at socializing.

Violet loves Penelope so much. She doesn’t like Cressida at all.

Colin’s voice is back to normal talking to Pen compared to the rest of the debutants

He’s trying so hard to impress her. And he gets denied. 😂

First appearance of Colin’s yellow waistcoat the day after court presentation

Mr. Dundas is an RSC actor! He was a great Benedick in the like 2014 Much Ado About Nothing.

We love a sneaky way to do an intimate scene (Anthony covering his head to go down on Kate).

God, I love Penelope’s gold shoes.

I do get a kind of desire vibes from Cressida staring at Penelope’s dress reveal

All of these men are regretting talking to Penelope. Poor dear Pen. I’m also shit at talking.

The sad thing is I know all the embroidery stitches.

I would love to see the Zebra Ball.

Anthony glaring at his old friends talking to Francesca. Love to see it.

Also, how do these men expect a young lady to answer “what makes you tick?” Fucking weirdos.

I love the conversation between Penelope and Francesca.

Penelope getting brain freeze was very Princess Diaries. Can someone gif that reference? Also a film where the heroine is in love with her best friend’s older brother.

After Cressida rips Penelope’s dress, you can clearly see that the are trying to cover up Claudia’s cast.

Listen, the “I miss you” line was such flirting but genuinely. Even if he doesn’t know it.

Eloise lecturing Cressida on frankness is honestly a bit hilarious

I love Eloise’s coat

1st appearance of Eloise’s summer muff to hide Claudia’s cast

Anthony and Kate leaving to make an heir: good for them. Probably not great for Violet because she has to handle her neurodivergent children by herself

Colin is so soft with Pen, I can’t. 🥹

I’m not sure who is dumber for this plan. Like it’s a dumb, but well-intentioned plan for Colin. Penelope, you know you love him.

Prudence and Phillipa, don’t you have your own homes?

[eyes-inthe-dark]

Hi Hello I actually make things sometimes

I don't know if anyone who follows me is interested in this stuff bc I very rarely post things from my own life, but I decided to be a little more active on here besides reblogging funny shit regarding my current hyperfixation.

So, here is the (incomplete) crafting diary of a neurodivergent trans person surviving christmas with the family and the dark and dreadful times (winter) in general by making shit! with my hands!

First: fiber stuff

I picked up tablet weaving over the last few months of 2023 and made my first pair of somewhat mistake-free shoelaces over the holidays! Only got the pattern completely right on the second try with the red but both laces now get to add a fun little detail to my shoes.

Next I tried a more complicated pattern and experimented a lot, hence the irregular pattern and troubleshooting at the start of the band. I'm now repurposing it as a camera strap and I learned a lot from it tho.

My current setup is basic cardboard tablets (I had to make extra ones so I had enough for the last band with 30 cards), tying the warp to something sturdy like a bookshelf, and sitting down with a backstrap belt on the other side of the room. I used thin wool yarn for this, which stuck to itself quite a lot, but not too much to be unmanagable, and I really like how the finished product feels.

If anyone's interested, I could make a longer post on how I made the shoelaces, I think it's a very beginner friendly project.

I managed to get my hands on a drop spindle and gave that a try, but I ran out of wool after making a very small amount of very chunky yarn and am currently working out where to best get sth local. It was fun tho!

I also finally finished the knitted scarf that has been in my wip pile for... approximately three years? I started it when I was still in school, feels like an eternity ago. It's just a simple (although very long) red wool scarf, but it keeps me nice and warm in this cold, harsh- *checks weather* ...5°C and neverending rain.

Next up: woodworking!

Noodled around with my grandpa's old dremel that we still had lying around, which resulted in this truly terrifying weapon:

Behold! I named it Toothling. It's great for poking friends and family when they least expect it.

This was more of a test run to see if it all still works and to try out doing small scale work with wood, now I gotta think of something fun to make. (I say, as if I didn't already have 50 different ideas)

Before that fuckery, I made this magnetic dice box/rolling tray for my lovely partner's birthday.

Though I don't feel like I can take credit for working the CNC magic on this, I did all the hands-on work with the sanding, assembling the magnets, shellac coating, and whatnot. I'm pretty sure wood is some sort of fruit tree, since it smells strongly of what I suspect might be plum or cherry.

Last but sure as fuck not least: embroidery

This I actually get professional instruction for at uni. I've kinda lost patience for it atm, but mostly because I cannot resist making unnecessarily complicated pieces with tiny little stitches and then am forced to finish it because I do actually kinda need to pass this class. My lecturer keeps telling me not to go so detailed, yet I have proven resistant to her good advice. But, I figured if I have to make two full pieces of embroidery to be graded on and put hours of work into, I might as well choose designs that I can turn into patches for my jacket:

Catha and Ruidus! I love me some big moon little moon imagery. The prompt was to incorporate most of the techniques/stitches we've learned so far. Added the little gold chain stitch around ruidus for the arcane latticework. It came out a little wonky shape wise, but I love it nonetheless.

And my most recent wip, a stained glass window design with the Ninth House skull and Gideon's sword behind it, to feed my current Locked Tomb obsession.

And that's it!

[yang-photography2024]

Weekend Photo Story

I was able to go to Riverpark for the farmers markets that focused on Valentines day. There was so many food and people there to shop around. My best friend tagged along with me as we walked around and bought soap from Bath and Body.

We then drove over to Sierra Vista Mall to try the new Two Hand Corndog. I been wanting to try some since I have heard some much about the place from my peers. There was a super long line so we had to wait for at least fifteen minutes.

My best friend and me than took a mini drive up to Millerton lake to get some fresh air before summer arrives in Fresno. There wasn't many people up in the lake since there was events happening in town. It was a nice ride as we just putted on music and sing to our heart content.

We then stopped by the side of the road to just enjoy nature. The mountains was very green and the air was very fresh and clean. There was many cows moving along with a small river in the valley.

On our way back to town, my best friend surprised me and stopped by to pick up the cake she ordered for my birthday. The cake was a coconut cake and was really good. It was not so dry or super sweet, so my grandparents were able to have some with us.

We made ka poon for dinner. It was very fun to help prep and cook since there was only four of us, but the pot for the broth was enough to serve at least ten people. While cutting the ingredients, my best friend and I was fighting back tears from cutting the green onion.

When I got home, I decided to update my tiny journal of encouraging words that I have received from other people in my life. The journal is already almost full since I have decorated it was a lot of stickers. I like to write at least one message either from someone or even just myself once a month.

The next day, I was able to focus on my paj ntawb (embroidery) for my new outfits. My best friend and I was inspire to make outfits for Hmong New Year. I am almost done with the pattern and now just need to focus on putting the outfit together, with my grandma's help.

As a student there has to be time to do work, so that's what I did. I was writing one of papers for my writing dinosaur class. I was drinking peppermint tea to ease my throat since I woke up with a dry throat.

Lastly, my brothers surprised me and moved some of my paintings out from my room and into the living room. This piece is called Blooming Friendship to represent my six year long friendship with my best friend. The piece was so huge that my brothers decided to hang it in front of the window.

[fourseasonsfigs]

Hug a Pig

I remember when I saw this fig for the first time, and I thought, How did someone dream this up??? Now this was a while ago, way before I realized that that was entirely the wrong question to be asking. The right question is, I wonder when this happened?

The answer, my friends, is Zhang Zhehan's (solo) appearance on Happy Camp that aired on June 12, 2021.

His beautiful smile (while holding this piglet) is the inspiration for this fig!

Here's a better view of Zhehan's outfit.

And another so you can see his crocheted pouch. I was about to say this casual look is not my favorite of Zhehan's - I would have preferred just a t-shirt, frankly - but then again he IS holding a pig in this! So maybe he's downright dapper.

Yes, he went right on a fig stand. Those little tiny feet were not able to hold both the weight of that big ol' head. The only way it would have been able to do so if it was actually a full grown pig and not a piglet!

This is also a great view of the pig. I know in the clip you can't see the pig's eyes, and I do appreciate the verisimilitude, I do.

But to no one's surprise, I have a weakness for cute big-eyed chibi-style animals. I'm just saying, it'd be super cute if this was a big-eyed roly-poly little pig that was either smiling all big like Zhehan, or say, looked really surprised.

BUT accuracy is accuracy, so here we are.

The little crochet handbag Zhehan is wearing in the episode is a nice burst of bright blue against the general tan effect of his clothes, and of course matches his crochet blue flower pin.

Zhehan's hair was styled pretty spiky in this Happy Camp episode, so you can see the definition that the fig maker put in it.

It's all all tan outfit here. The strap of the crochet bag is a decently bright orange (but not like neon or anything) in the pictures, whereas in the fig it's a little more muted of a color. It's less of a contrast and more in line with the overall color palette of the clothes.

The modeling is good on the arms - nothing looks disproportional or too long.

A streamlined but still very standard Zhehan silhouette.

I'm so glad the fig maker picked this moment - his big beautiful smile in the show is just so radiant!

The hair is spot on, if you scroll back. The fig maker also got the nice detail of the uh, squiggly? embroidery on his pocket. And of course the blue crochet flower pin. Very cute.

A bottoms-up view / closeup so you can see the details of the shoes, pig, and shirt (mostly). Look at those rosy cheeks!

I'm still impressed by how accurate the fig maker got the hair. She does good work!

It's always fun to have the box art be a peek into what figs are coming up! You've already seen Neufmode Han here, so that only leaves that Baozhushajun there in the middle.

Guess what fig you'll see tomorrow 😉

Material: PVC

Fig Count: 377

Scene Count: 26

Rating: 🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷 5 / 5 pigs agree this is the best fig ever!

[link back to Master Fig Index for more posts]

[about27th]

why choose the University of Dundee??

i finished my masters degree at the uni last year and recently moved to another city for a new job. Having spent nearly two years in Dundee, i really grew to appreciate the uni and the small-town vibe. that's why, I'm here to convince you --- why you should consider the University of Dundee for higher education!

Uni-wise

a compact campus uni

i know the uni inside out, having been both a student and a staff member. i've used almost every service and facility; it is a great campus uni in a decent size where everything essential is included but never feels overwhelming

need help? the enquiry centre is there for you.. want to meet new people? the global room is the place to be (ps. both offer free tea and coffee during the week) plus, there are free fitness classes during exam periods to help with stress, and international events with free food during festivals!! there's always something fun happening and i really couldn't ask for more from this uni --- it's an absolutely fantastic place to live and study🙌

breakfast club & campus pantry

the uni is very generous in helping with living costs. They run a breakfast club and campus pantry during the semester; students can get a free roll or cereal with a hot drink every morning from mon to fri and get free groceries up to 10 items every 2 weeks. the latter has limited space though running by booking and I had never got a spot (they fill up really fast😭) but the free breakfast was a big big help --- I got fed well and didn't lose a fortune, I'm genuinely grateful for it🙇🏻‍♀️

createspace

this is one of the best perks about joining the uni --- CreateSpace is inside the main library and has awesome tools and devices like 3D printers, sewing and embroidery machines, Cricut devices, and lots of toolkits; they even offer free courses to teach you how to use everything!!

i've used the space to repair my clothes, create gift for my friends, make stickers to sell and even fix my laptop with their tiny screwdrivers; it makes the uni super homie as everything is so handyyyyyyyy, leaving this space behind for my new job is truly my biggest regret💔

rooms for groups & individuals

as i began my job hunting, i found myself needing a private space for job prep, interviews, and also hobbies👀(I started dancing again during that time to reduce stress🤫). after a long search, I discovered that students and staff can actually book any room within the teaching buildings --- there are even piano rooms, fancyyyyyyyyy; all i had to do was find a room, reserve a slot and wait for confirmation, how good is that!

guarantor scheme

the uni introduced this service not too long ago, to help students secure private accommodations more easily; this wasn't available back before I came so I had to either pay extra rent or use a guarantor service, which cost me more money. This new policy is super duper thoughtful, saving students a lot of hassle when relocating to the uk👍

Life-wise

24/7 in-person emotional support

to me, the around the clock emotional support has made the UK a great country to live in. Besides nationwide virtual support available from Samaritans and Breathing Space, etc.. Dundee has a unique Community Wellbeing Centre in the city centre offers 24/7 face to face emotional support for anyone feeling stressed or just needing a chat. Knowing that there's always a place to go to, day or night, has made a huge difference to my anxiety; this exclusive service makes Dundee a wonderful place to live🧘🏻‍♀️

flexible bus tickets

xplore dundee is the primary bus service serving the city centre. i really like their 10-trip bundle tickets that never expire – it’s a great way to save money; plus their group tickets for up to five people, which are perfect for days out with friends or family

you can buy tickets on the bus or on their app; I find the app convenient as i don't need to worry about paper tickets. The only downside is that you can't change your mind once you buy a ticket online --- strict no transfer no refund policies

learning opportunities

sometimes free courses arise exclusively for the Tayside region, including Dundee. i had taken an 8-week online workshop on data management in excel, which was fully sponsored as i meet the minority background requirements (check the pic above) i got a certificate at the end, which is great for my cv; it was a good experience having to upskill and meeting people with the same interests. i highly recommend taking advantage of these opportunities during your time in Dundee!!!

Dundee has so much more to offer than i've mentioned.. it's a small city with everything you need nearby, a low cost of living and have easy access to various Scottish cities (30 mins to Perth, Arbroath, St Andrew; an hour or two journeys to Aberdeen, Stirling, Glasgow, Edinburgh and so on) it's a perfect starting point for anyone new to exploring and living in the country

writing this post brings back so many wonderful memories❤️ while i’m on a new adventure now, Dundee will always hold a special place in my heart --- a place that nurtured me and shaped who I am today; i’m incredibly proud of that

hope you will have a lovely journey here too, just like I did😌

[technofinch]

Best guys forrrr 1, 5, 30, 41, 48! ✨️

Crafting hobbies!

Nico has recently taken up embroidery - her mother tried to teach her when she was young, but she never had the patience for it. Now Nico finds herself with a lot of free time, and it's something she can do while sitting in fancy meetings and such that also makes her feel more connected to her family. She still sucks at it tho lmao

Dmitri's pretty good with his hands - he makes his own fishing lures, and will tell you all about the different types & what kinds of fish each one will attract! In general he has a good sense of materials and how to put things together (aka has a +10 to craft)

5. Tattoos!

Already answered for Mulligan, but Nico has a tiny stick-and-poke on her ribs of a sword with a star for the pommel. They're the only two of my guys with canon tattoos iirc, but Nessie has a bunch of piercings!

30. Fame!

Nico would like her name to be known as a hero, so stories of her exploits could bring hope to people she could never reach in person. She's currently kinda famous, but moreso because of her sire & position in court, which irks her.

Mulligan would Not. If his case goes to trial the crew is gonna get a Lot of publicity and he would much rather keep his head down and be a normal guy lol

41. Do they learn from their mistakes?

Nico does, both of the major mistakes she's made so far (accepting a Very alcoholic beverage from a group of strange men, and trying to solo a vampire) very easy could have gotten her killed and she can't afford to tempt fate. Also, her friends will yell at her. Doesn't stop her from making new, stupider mistakes tho <3

Mulligan does not, based solely on the fact that he rarely admits to having made a mistake in the first place. He wallows in the consequences of his actions and has a complicated relationship with agency. He also has numerous unwanted bastard children and still won't get a vasectomy. So.

48. Quest for revenge?

Nico has technically gone on a quest for revenge, it just wasn't hers lmao. She will go to great lengths to enact her idea of "justice," but tends to be more concerned when someone else has been wronged.

Mulligan... will pretty much roll over and take whatever he's given, in his mind fighting back only ever makes things worse. Main goal if someone wrongs him is to remove himself from the situation. However, if he had nothing left to lose (say, something bad happening to his crew...) he might snap and go on some kind of suicidal murder quest. But probably not.

[thehaberdasheress]

We've got sewing kits back in stock!

I bought 10 tins to make kits in back in June, and now (November?) they finally sold out. So we got another 10 tins, and during our work session yesterday my assistant divvied up needles, pins, and everything else in the kit.

They're assembled in-house because I haven't found a reasonable ready-made kit that has tools I'd actually like to use. These kits have the kind of tools we use ourselves, and they're $15 CAD.

Included:

The tin: It's compact, roughly the size of a playing card, with a hinged lid that fits on snugly.

Seam ripper: Compact enough to fit into the tin, sharp, and nimble. (Pro tip: Keep the clear cap around to fit onto the butt end of the tool when you use it, and make life easier on your hands!)

Needles: 5 assorted sewing needles, sharps with different thicknesses and eye sizes.

Needle threader: I went on a quest to find decent ones, since the little tin ones in your average sewing kits break easily and drive me wild. The plastic flower is easy to grasp, the wire is sturdy if not indestructible, and it makes threading your needle (especially when working with crewel wool or embroidery floss) SO much easier.

Thread: 5 metres/5.5 yds of glazed cotton quilting thread. Choice of white or black. I am SO sick of crappy sewing-kit thread, which is usually flimsy AND a nightmare to sew with, so I've spun up spools of my favourite handsewing thread instead. It's smooth and sturdy, and less likely to snarl or knot as you're working.

Pins and pincushion: The secret ingredient is a strong and tiny magnet, which sticks to the tin but can also be taken out. It keeps all 20 of these sharp glass-headed pins in line without breaking a sweat. Once I discovered magnetic pincushions, I never turned back. You just have to throw your pins at them to make them stick.

The sewing kit on Etsy

There are also two other things I think are good accompaniments to the kit, but kept them separate to keep the kit's price down.

Thread wax: 100% beeswax thread conditioner. Running your sewing thread through the wax will make it much tamer and easier to deal with. It saves SO many headaches if you do a lot of sewing by hand. $3 CAD

Leather thimble: The handsewer's best friend. Comes in small adult and large adult sizes. I use these myself to keep handsewing from causing inflammation and nerve issues when I have a lot of embroidery to do. Leather needles allow sensitivity and freedom of movement I find hard to achieve with metal or plastic ones. $5 CAD.

[docholligay]

I talk about this a lot!

I have spent much of my life with a high level of human happiness, and this has been true even when I was what could be fairly called "up against it" in a financial-housing sense.

I credit a fair amount of this to two things, and a third thing I'll also mention, though it's not mentioned above:

I do things that are difficult and require a lot of personal work and discipline and sometimes suck very much. Doc this sounds not fun at all. Well, sometimes it isn't. I read challenging texts. I run long distances. I do very intense hikes. I try to learn embroidery and I swear a lot and boy am I not even close to basic skills there. BUT, I work hard at things that require me to struggle, and require me follow through, and when I DO I get not only a shot of dopamine, which is pretty easily obtained in modern society, but a longer lasting positive sense of self. My boot camp teacher doesn't tell us something isn't hard, she yells "You can do hard things!" and I think that's the key. I can do hard things. I know that about myself, when I do hard things. And this makes me feel like a person who is control of myself and my life, even when i am...struggling with that, and that feeling CARRIES, and lets me do things like planning menus, and cleaning up my office, and working on a hard craft project because I CAN DO HARD THINGS. I cannot tell you enough how much this sense of mastery can help carry you through difficulty in life, but you have to slog through the mud first. And to reiterate the above: Things you do on your computer do not count as much. They just don't, mentally. You can hate it as much as you like, but it is in fact true that building a tiny dollhouse out of superglue and popsicle sticks will make you feel better, long term, than minecraft.

I keep a fairly large group of in-person social connections. This is important for two reasons: In-person interactions count more, mentally. This isn't to say everyone has to be your best friend, but, you know, when you have positive contact with people in your day to day life, it is a good thing, that makes you feel good. And two, the 'touch grass' of human interaction-- I think it's really important to have relationships with people who don't agree with you, or have different shades of thought from you, and it's important to have to deal with that. I think online it can be so easy to get into these circles where there is almost groupthink, and I can be just as guilty as anyone else, I am not saying I'm God's special girl. But these relationships help you learn how to deal with disagreement in a civil way, keep you tapped into the idea that there's more than one way to think about things, and also remind you that people are, generally, more alike than we are different. I know I worked with the Plains Council talking to farmers and shit for years so I have some more experience with this than others, but people in person, like to get along. It is so easy online to see the world as polarized, and to turn cruel, and again, I AM AS GUILTY AS ANYONE ELSE. I have intense regrets about how I have handled some things in the past. But people, on balance, are good. And I'm not even talking about major "I think you should die stuff" I have people I know in person where, we're both Under The Rainbow Umbrella, but I, coming from a rural lesbian point of view, might think something seems really navel-gazing and with a lot of fuckin steps to not much changing, and they might think I oversimplify the human experience and the value in thinking about the micro-ways you interact with the universe, but they trust that I am essentially a decent person, and I trust that they are, and we can both shrug our shoulders and go, "Okay, whatever makes you happy" and that is VALUABLE because we, as human beings on this earth, if we want a better world, must see each other as fully human. Every fucking person, even Ted goddamn "coward" Cruz, has a spark of the divine. And in person, it is easier to see the glint of God in another person, and to allow them to see yours and this is DEFINITELY type two fun, but once you see it, you will see that spark in everyone and you will get greedy to make people the best they could be. Also, popping off and saying something stupid in person makes stronger friendships. You cannot love someone truly, and they can't love you, until they see where you are flawed, and broken, and is...I'm not gonna say impossible, but it is so easy to craft a version of yourself online that sands off the rough edges. (Cue every person who knows me in real life going: "uh did you assume that person had a spark of the divine when you upbraided them for cutting in line?") My online friends, who have become REAL friends--it's a fucking Velveteen rabbit situation. I have seen them in real life, and they have seen me UGLY, and they say, "And so am I" and, I can't tell you how nice this all is. To be a part of a world, the way you are.

Find the light. One time, not to overshare, I was in a rough situation, and I noticed the way the sun sparkled through the frost on the window. It was beautiful. I still think about that. I was cold, and things were not great, but that was beautiful. If you look, it's worth finding.

But definitely like, go outside and say hi to someone on your street and take up a real, physical hobby.

I think people get mixed up a lot about what is fun and what is rewarding. These are two very different kinds of pleasure. You need to be able to tell them apart because if you don't have a balanced diet of both then it will fuck you up, and I mean that in a "known cause of persistent clinical depression" kind of way.

[tonispencerart]

I did it again, didn't I?

I forgot about this place again. In my defence (if I actually need one, that is) I have spent this weekend at a friend's house looking after her dog (and her partner's dog but that's not the point. Maybe it is. I don't know) and so I wasn't really thinking about very much beyond keeping two very excitable critters out of trouble. There was also an incident involving the washing machine, but that's not very interesting. Unless you really want to know how I accidentally flooded the kitchen... Knowing myself as well as I think I do, I took a bunch of random art supplies with me, hoping that the change of scenery might inspire something - or at the very least be a bit different to my own flat/makeshift home studio. What actually happened was me, on the sofa, with two dogs - both demanding my attention and all of the fuss which was not entirely successful despite my best efforts - Netflix on the go (I watched a few weird creepy-ish things. Some good, some absolutely abysmal) with my Creepy Stuff sketchbook. I did some tiny drawings in pencil, poked some tiny holes in the paper and used some embroidery thread to 'doodle' with (which was later abandoned due to the aforementioned excitable and demanding critters) and not much else. I did get some random ideas for stuff, though. If I remember to, I'll take some photos tomorrow or something and let you see them. Not my best work, sure, but that's what sketchbooks are for, aren't they? I'm also going to start doing some serious deep digging into the witch trial stuff. It's both fascinating and really scary - especially around some of the reasons people were accused and what they did to them. So much is misunderstood - from every perspective, then and now - and badly interpreted, etc. I should also sort out some of the photos I have of my art, too. I keep talking about it but I realise that I haven't actually shared any of it. What kind of artist doesn't show off their work?! In my case, in particular, it's my ADHD Brain. You'll probably see me refer to it as my Weirdo Brain going forward. Anyway, it's gone 11pm and I should probably try and sleep. Sleep is necessary. It's largely the time when my Weirdo Brain goes into warp-speed mode and comes up with almost all of the weird ideas for art pieces. Perhaps, one day, I'll share more about my process. If you like that sort of thing... Goodnight, my lovelies.