#I'm still figuring out textile printing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

k00299393 · 3 months

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Movement-Fashion & Textiles

Colour

The next step for my garments was to introduce colour. Mairead had said do some with the colour we wanted from our movement brief but to also experiment with other colours as they may suit better. As I am displaying feelings for movement and specifically for fashion and textiles I'm displaying sadness and also self soothing when sad. So as per Plutchik's Wheel Model, blue depicts grief, sadness, pensiveness and remorse. So blue is one colour and I choose lavender as a second colour. Lavender is a shade of purple with slightly blue undertone. I suppose its the counter colour in a way and the comforting part as the lavender plant or oil made from this plant is used to reduce stress, anxiety and help with sleep.

Colour plan using blues and lavenders

I am pleased with this outcome especially the fourth image. It shows a blue outfit that is made up of a fit and flare trousers that has fabric draped down over the hips. A top with long bell sleeves and an image of a cat that was a cushion in my daughters room, I didn't edit the cat out as I felt it added to the design but also a lot of people seek comfort from our furry pets. Lastly it has a lavender hooded bolero ideally made of a soft fabric like teddy fleece or faux fur also adding comfort and the hood itself adding security, drawing inspiration from Rei Kawakubo's Comme des Garcons Women's RTW Spring 2023.

Here are my experiments with other colours

I enjoyed playing around with the colouring here. I decided to be bold with image one and I love the contrast between the skintone and the dress. I love the little black dress and its said that everyone's wardrobe should contain a little black dress as they are versatile, if I had the figure for something like this I would absolutely be wearing it. With the third image I was unsure of what colours to use but when I went back to the original I had made with the coloured cutout prints of my primary sources, I felt those colours really worked. So these colours and patterns mostly belong to my daughters duvet cover.

I have benefited from experimenting, I get why its imported to trial something that maybe you haven't yet considered because you just might find something better or that you prefer. But in this case I still prefer my original colours.

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raeloganthesonic06fangirl · 2 years

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So, this question might get a bit 'real' but I gotta know, how do you deal with the fact that many artists your age are better than you and that there's artists younger than you that are also much better? I mean, I get insecure when I see another artist that's either my age or younger that, contradictory, seems light years ahead of me and I'm like a decade younger than you, so I'm genuinely curious how you handle it.

I used to sort of be hyperaware of that when I was younger, especially because I really didn't start really being interested in doing art until I was 15, and wasn't able to get my first graphics tablet until I was 19, so I had a bit of a late start and probably didn't help that one of my cousins, who is 6 years my junior, was and still is somewhat of a prodigy when it came to arts and crafts.

Being 15 while hardly grasping the concept of anatomy and my cousin being 9 and making a whole heckin hyperrealistic pencil drawing of an upclose of a sea turtle on the beach, it sort of momentarily knocked the wind out of my sails if not for her saying "I wish I could make up characters like you do, though." which really sort of gave me an interesting perspective on other points of view. As far as she was concerned, she could make really good drawings, but she thought my characters were more fun to imagine.

Of course, I also have some disability stuff that does affect my fine motor skills to some degree, which is why I prefer to use pencils over inks and draw small because that suits better with the control of my wrist because if I did the whole-arm thing you're supposed to do, I'd never get a legible clean line, and holy heck, I absolutely cannot do paintbrush work cleanly at all, it's an absolute mess and looks nothing like how I do with pencils. Either way, I have a slight disadvantage with my range of (lack of) skills, and perspective is jank most of the time because I have no depth perception anyway without my glasses. Sometimes a sketch can take a few minutes on a good day or I spend all night trying to get a decent looking leg to work out in the drawing before giving up and throwing that in the "come back later" bin.

Another thing I like to hold onto is something my Mom has told my brothers and I over the years whenever one of us expressed disappointment in not matching the other in skills: "You are in competition with nobody but yourself."

I also have a sister-in-law who is a fairly popular artist in her particular community, but her wonderful words of wisdom for art is: "If you spend like a thousand hours working on a skill, you're gonna get really good at doing it."

Also, like, the majority of relatives on the paternal side of my family are natural artists in one way or another, sometimes even with textiles and crafts, and I'm recognized as the one in the family who does toon style over realism. My Lil Bro who has an account here on Tumblr I occasionally plug does fantastic anthro work with paws, claws, snouts and textures among other things. He's younger than me by a couple of years, and is the source of the "Sonic Man Candy" print I have hung up in my room that's a bit of a joke between us that I sometimes reference here one in a blue moon.

I haven't drawn this character in a good long while, but a cat character of mine known mostly as Bill (full name "Jared William Danus III") is a bit of a time capsule on how my art style started and changed over the years as I worked more of certain weak points and figured out that my best attributes were probably eyes and expressions, so I put more emphasis on those than anything to mask what might be lacking.

Bill started as simply a cat variant of your typical "imp counterpart to another character" in the vein of something like Mr. Mxyzptlk, as he's actually another universe's version of another character of mine, King Milo:

Over time, I sort of evolved Bill into his own thing, where his entire concept was "What if he wasn't exactly the typical main character, but the brother of a Chosen One sort of character, and wasn't even the Prime Universe version of all his variants?"

There's a massive amount of explanation behind him that I won't muddle here, but anyway, you can see that my earlier art bits were very not so good and very amateur and immediately makes my more recent stuff already look a bit better in comparison.

I'd say one of the most effective things you can do as a moral boost in times of doubt got your skills is to take an one of your older art pieces and redraw it. Get a real good look at what you've been able to improve on, check out your new techniques, maybe a better color pallet developed over the years, or maybe you can see life in the eyes of your characters or even see energy you weren't able to do the last time you drew that.

Age really doesn't determine your skill, it's how much time you've put into something you're very passionate about that helps it grow. And maybe a little bit of natural talent with some of us, because I'm pretty sure that's exactly what was going on with my cousin there. Straight up like that SpongeBob drawing a perfect circle thing.

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twst-the-night-away · 1 year

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“ let me see you ”

How about a Caroline and Leona story?

[ FIRST TIME WRITING THESE TWO AND I'M HECKIN' ANXIOUS but heyyyy, here they are. Explaining their situation requires a lot of Future Lore that's been built offsite, so I am going to explain nothing.

Caroline's anxious here. This is why it rambles for a bit - it's following her train of thought. Fortunately, Leona knows where to find the emergency brake for that train ... once he finally shows up. ]

Caroline huffed, her bangs fluttering. The printed silk was wrapped around her like a towel, folded in half once so it wouldn't drag on the floor. She held it in place with crossed arms as she closed yet another tutorial video that wasn't any help.

She could sulk. She really felt like sulking. But she didn't have the time.

She could have just tied the silk on any old way and then feigned ignorance, but her own curiosity and need to get things just right had only made it worse.

Leona had shown up at her guest room door an hour or so ago, the silk bundled in his arms. He thrust it at her and said, "Put this on, they're doing a formal thing for dinner," and then went to do whatever (take a nap, most likely). So it had been up to Caroline to figure it out for herself. And that only meant ending up down a rabbit hole of Internet searches that hadn't helped at all.

See, it was worn like this in the north, but like this in the south, and like this in the capital, and the royal family wore theirs like this, and tying it on the right meant this, and on the left meant that, unless you were in the southeast, where it meant this ...

Caroline was tempted to just follow how the royal women wore theirs, but what would that come across as? She was on eggshells with Leona's sister-in-law to begin with, what would it look like if she strutted in wearing hers the same way? Like she was just assuming that she'd be accepted, assuming that she would end up being royalty herself?

And what kind of message would that send Leona, who hadn't even asked her yet ...

Caroline sighed and sat down on the bed, running her hands over her face. Ugh. She wished she could be more like Leona sometimes. He hadn't worried much about what to wear when he'd -

A couple of knocks at the door made Caroline sit up straight, hugging the silk a little more tightly around herself.

"Uhh ... Um. Just a moment -"

Caroline hopped off of the bed and crossed the room to the wardrobe. She'd have to put her regular clothes back on. She couldn't just -

"Hey. You ready?"

"Uhhh, not yet, hon, just give me a few more minutes."

"Let me see you."

"Wait -"

The door opened, and Leona came in, dressed in a long tunic and pants made of a silk of the same pattern. He'd re-braided his hair, and gold ornaments now hung on his wrists and around his neck. Caroline couldn't help but stare, just for a second. He didn't seem to particularly be trying, but goodness, he looked ... well, he looked regal.

Until he smirked, then opened his mouth.

"Hah. I figured."

"You figured?" Caroline couldn't help her voice raising an octave. She stood up straight to look him in the eye the best she could, catching the fabric before it could slip off of her. "If you'd figured, you should have helped me!"

"I thought I'd give you a chance." Leona clicked his tongue. He walked further into the room and circled to where he was behind Caroline. "What was that textile design degree for, again?"

Caroline felt her skin prickle at the smug comment.

"So are you gonna just laugh at me, or are you gonna help?"

Leona chuckled. "You'll have to let go of it for me to do that."

Despite knowing that she didn't have anything that she hadn't shown him before, Caroline hesitated for a moment before unfolding her arms and unwrapping the silk. The room was warm, but she still got goosebumps when she turned around and handed him the bundle of fabric. Sly green eyes appraised her, making her cheeks flush pink.

"I mean, I could just let you go to dinner in your underwear. That'd be pretty cute."

"Leona."

"More comfortable, too."

"Leona."

"Seriously, though, what's the problem? Arms up."

Caroline held up her arms as Leona started to wrap the fabric around her again. She sighed.

"I looked up how to put them on, and there were just ... too many rules. I didn't know how to wear it."

"Hold this." Leona handed an edge of the fabric over Caroline's shoulder. She took it. There was a silence as he worked.

"I'm surprised you know how to tie on a woman's garment."

Leona didn't elaborate. Caroline didn't push the issue. She just did what Leona told her, so that this whole ordeal could be over already.

After a few moments, Leona cinched a knot in the back.

"Too tight?"

"It's fine," Caroline sighed. "Thanks."

"Go take a look. But don't take too long." Leona leaned against the wardrobe and folded his arms. "I'll get yelled at if we're late."

Caroline laughed a little, then went over to the mirror. She smoothed down her hair, touched up her lipstick, and then realized ... he'd tied it on in the royal way. She looked over at him.

"You think it's fine this way?"

Leona crossed the room and stood behind Caroline again. Even though the room and his skin were warm, she still got goosebumps when his hands touched her shoulders.

"It looks like it belongs on you."

#the unspoken words being: 'and you belong wherever i am'#and so on and so on #aaaaaaaa #i'm glad i finally got to write these two!!!#it's kinda hard to because i'm still learning how to write leona #but thank you for indulging me :3c #twst x oc #twst oc #caroline laperle #leona kingscholar #whatever man i'm tagging it i'm cringe but i'm free

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orionnquartzwater · 3 years

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In a local witches group on my personal FB page, an admin I look up to asked us what our current altars looked like at the moment to spark up a discussion. I had an offhand picture of recently showing and explaining my faith to a friend of mine, but as I began to reflect on the items, my reply grew longer and longer until Facebook just gave up on allowing me to post it. Still wanting to share, I figured I would host my answer here.

This is my current set-up. Please excuse some of the mess, I'm currently in the process of clearing out the old for the new calender year. I don't work at my altar very often at the moment as life has been a little hectic, but it's right above my fireplace in my living room! ♡

PHOTO DESCRIPTION WITH DETAILS AND PERSONAL HISTORIES BEHIND THE OBJECTS PICTURED: On white shelf above the fireplace in my living room is my altar, lit by a ceiling light that brings the eye to the center of the image where a wall-hanging of the elemental symbols I hand-crafted in branches and black twine covers a large portion of the white wall in the back. In the middle on the top of the hanging decor is a clear hand-crafted witch ball I made several years back when my coven was still meeting and I was teaching some of the history behind them and what they are today filled with many different herbs and a large cinnamon stick. Several natural pieces of twine hang from some of the twigs that make up the elemental symbols, used for tying and drying herb bunches above my altar, currently sitting empty. On both sides framing the mantle on the wall, there two metallic swirling candle holders, one of which has a recently gifted antique bell from my once-ignorant and oppressive grandmother about what my faith truly had meant to me on twine hanging from it. In the dead center of the altar, a large glass candle holder sits containing a layered orange and red candle, burned most of the way down with ash on the insise of the glass as it hasn't been in use for some time. Currently displayed on top of the candle is my own hand-crafted wand that sits perfectly balanced in my hand with the natural curve of the branch. It felt made for my hand as I whittled the top down and used copper and quartz to charge it, wrapping the handle and charging the energy forward with the small point I've had for years until I found why I had clung to it.

Two alabaster statuette busts of the Greek deities Artemis (to the left), and Apollo (to the right) also frame the large glass candleholder. The statues are of the deities who I worked faithfully worked with to recieve my service dog Andromeda, and thank constantly trying to honor, as everything in my life had said I couldn't receive her from time to money to circumstance to lack of outside help, even though everything else about it was said that it was truly meant for me, and I believe to this day it was due to them watching me working tirelessly to do everything on my end including my rituals and asking for their assistance that they granted me a medically healing (Apollo's side) & faithful canine (Artemis's side). I had the statues shipped to me from Greece, and the golden accents on the alabaster textiles and laurel on them are probably my favorite part of them. They're one of my most prized possessions. The two godly siblings face each other with their heads cast in different directions. Behind Artemis, slightly to her right is a black and white painting I did of the forested coast and night sky with a prominent moon bouncing off the waves and a comet in the stars above (Ironically, my dog Andromeda (Andi) was listed as Comit in the breeders list as well, something I hadn't even considered when painting and adding it to my altar). To Artemis' left is a small antler chew we took from my service dog when she was too big to use it safely any longer, as well as a small clay torso of the human form I crafted some time ago. In front of the mini painting is where I currently sit a chakra bracelet gifted to me years ago, and sitting in front of those not too far from the edge is an incense holder depicting a skeleton with roses around it as a memento mori, a circle of life as the ash falls and the incense is burned. To the left of that are some pieces of geodes and petrified woods I have that my grandmother also gifted me, two unused candles in front of those, and a petrified wood piece laying flat that holds two tiny pinecones connected by a stem and two coins for abundance beside a ceramic acorn bowl holding many gemstones collected through the years, including the labradorite my grandmother also gifted me when I was a small child and found myself connecting to the stone as I connected to the faith alone on my own. To the left of that is a tall decorative triple goddess wooden box box my dad's girlfriend bought for me, a small black and white moon phase & elemental symbol zentangle art piece sitting above it that I drew in pen in high school, and in front of them on the altar is an antique taxidermied dog-paw letter opener made of Mother of Pearl, dating the beloved Print's death as Sept 15th, 1867 that I use for directing energy, connecting to the love we hold for those in our lives, and also with connecting to the centuries past in my own hands.

To Apollo's right sits a massive pinecone, and behind him somewhat obscured is a small wax burner currently holding the remnants of the ritual work I had been using to call forth my service dog to me as a variety of herbs, green wax for abundance and coins. To the right of that are a variety of candles, currently perching a bird's nest that had fallen out of and was sitting abandoned from the tree in front of my apartments two years ago that would have been tossed by maintainence or mowed over but found a renewed life in my practice after it sat abandoned for some time. Beside that is a squared lantern of black metal framinh with frosted glass and metallic fir tree silhouettes. Also the right of that, leaning over the edge of the mantle from a small end table not pictured is a twig broom with the bristles up. (On the very edge of the mantle also sits a large bottle of hand-sanitizer constantly in use as I live with a hospital worker, and both cleanliness and healthcare are just as important in our faith, lest we forget to take care of ourselves with the modern knowledge passed down to us now, nor forget to do our part wherever we go.)

— I haven't had the mind to do much traditional work, even here, and this doesn't include the dresser I plan on doing a fuller altar for so I can have a place to be alone, in my space, and wholly enter the circle once more as I haven't been able to do that in a very, very long time, but this one houses most of my items of power, is displayed prominently, and is curated to allow me to remember to honor my faith more and never stop working on it, taking time to stand in front of it and reflect on me, my faith, where I came from and where I'm going as well as spending a moment with the deities I honor. After my birthday later this year growing up in a household of agnostics and the faith and discomfort of my oppressive grandparents, I'll actually have been in the faith for more than half my life as I was only 11 when I stumbled into it alone, celebrated my first Imbolc all by myself by making crafts out of ribbons and buying and lighting candles, meditating reading books. I ran around with my bell wand shaking it at nature to reawaken it for spring, and I knew I would always be in the faith, and want to raise a future family in it, and grow a community of like-minded folks. I'm still always learning, and it makes me equally immensely proud and insanely humbled when I can teach others what I've learned since the faith found me. I can actually remember crying to my grandma about whether or not magic(k) could truly exist in the world and she told me if I believed in it, it DID at that age, and the feelings of finding power in my faith after growing up so alone have been unlike any other. Finding other witches was one of the most impactful moments of my life, especially growing up in a heavily Christian town of just over 1,000. Nothing has made me ever feel more fulfilled than people who know me and know I have been in the faith since childhood coming up to me to timidly ask them to teach them some things and where they could start to learn more, asking questions and finding me with a million resources for them, only to come back at a later date and truly thank me for helping them find their path to deity, to nature, to being one with the energies around us and finding power in their experiences and newfound budding faith and community. I've since found a true passion for anthropology and folklore, and I never feel more whole than working with others who share that with me. I think that my coven was one of the best things I experienced in high school, a mix of young witches learning and finding our paths and bringing our passions to life with each other and what we knew over good food, good friends and good faith wasn't something I got to experience often until then.

I'm still hoping to one day build an establishment where witches and aspiring witches can come, talk, read, ask for recommendations, be taught by local witches, take community crafting classes with history lessons, and be able to continue to provide that feeling to other folks. One of the people I ended up mentoring after they were asking me questions and for book recommendations, for clarifications and good conversation, also reaffirmed my childhood last name of faith that came to me by expressing their gratitude of my mentorship referring to me as "a willow tree I was providing wisdom, knowledge and needed shade to the growing saplings around them," and I actually broke down crying as Willow was the last name I ended up with as child, and Willowtree was the last name I had settled on after my transition. I hate the feeling of buying myself mass-produced items used for making a quick buck off a community rather than fostering the Craft, and the power that's within our tools created by hand or when they're gifted by people who impacted us with the knowledge of what they mean and the things they hold are just so much different than not knowing the ethical conditions of who made the materials, or the companies behind them pandering for money, and it's a bit of a passion project as my physical health keeps me from being able to work much on my own. I often wish I could go back and tell a young me how much I would learn and do, how many amazing people I would meet, and communities I would find, even in the areas directly around me. I think I would have been amazed. After writing all of this, I looked back and realized that my current set-up is actually doing it's EXACT job right now. As I described the objects and what they meant to me when I got them, I got caught up in it the same way I do IRL when I pass by and take a moment to think about what my faith holds for me, where I'm coming from and where I really want to take things from here. I guess it's REALLY just that effective on me that even trying to answer a question about it off-hand in a post really ends up in me really taking a minute to address who I am and the power it all holds to me, especially standing where I stand today.

Blessed Be! I hope everyone has a wonderful week.

— 12.9.2020

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pbandjesse · 5 years

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Happy Thanksgiving everybody. I really really enjoyed my day off. I hope most of you have the day off too. I hope you didn't have to go work somewhere. And if you did I hope that it wasn't too hard.

I really just tried to take as much advantage of today as I could without feeling guilty. That is something I find very very difficult nowadays. My schedule so I don't even hang out where I can take hours and hours to do nothing and not feel bad about it because I have enough hours and getting enough work that I don't have to really worry as much but it's still very hard for me to turn that fear off in my brain. I let myself sleep in really late. I woke up around 10 I just kind of laid in bed for a while. When I did get up I didn't actually get out of bed. I did go feed sweet pea and had some cookies for breakfast but I really just got back in bed. For about an hour until I finish scrolling all the way through Tumblr from last night. And I did feel guilty but I was trying really hard just to have a relaxing morning.

At noon I finally got up. I dyed my hair. It is very green. And I took a long bath. Did a face mask. Shaved my legs for the first time in 2 months. I watched a whole bunch of YouTube while I was in there. And when I got out I went upstairs and took a shower. Washed all the dye out of my hair. I felt a lot better afterwards.

After I got dressed I worked in my studio for a while. I'm almost completely done my diorama for this week. I think it'll be done tomorrow morning I just had to wait for some paint to dry before I could attached a few pieces. But I'm very happy with it. I can't believe the project is going to be over. I mean the diorama making part. The book and the frame for it still need to be made but I'm still really happy. And because of that I rode that wave and took the energy I still had and worked on our next project.

I started on nine different illustrations. We decided to go with wreaths instead of bouquets because I love things in a circle. And besides the first two that we've already figured out just sent me a couple more prompts and I expanded on them. So besides just having the friend zone, and the wish you were dead. We also have one that says so it turns out I'm gay. And one that says I slept with your brother. I sketched out the first two that we had already figured out. I edited down and decided that 7 is going to be the max number of flowers for now. More than that it just seems to get a little jumbled. And it gives me a good editing point. I spent the next couple hours researching and finding definitions. I found a really good website that has like excellent organization and definitions of flowers. So I'm primarily going to be using that one and I'm really happy about the phrases that I've chosen so far. There's a couple that I'm having a little issues with because of the specific word choices I'm using. Like the one where I said that I've slept with your brother I can't find a flower to represent brother. So I'm using a rivalry and affection. I'm hoping that you still got the idea around it. this is really going to be a very text Heavy project. which is where Jess is going to be tackling a lot of this with her hand lettering and typography. I'm excited to see what she comes up with for the best way to explain each piece. When I'm thinking is the illustration with the phrase in the center and then On The Backs the list of the flowers and their definitions. I also think that leads to us being able to do something that is a digital print or a Textile print where we could still do tote bags. Because I think this project is going to be much more monetizable. And I really want to be able to have all of those venues to work around. I think this is going to be a very fun project though.

I finally stopped working around 3:30. I came up here and heated up the leftover stuffing and mashed potatoes that we made the other night. And they came out really good. So I was very happy. It's not as warm up in my living room as it isn't my studio so it wasn't as comfortable for a little while. But I manage to cover the windows and that was enough to settle the heat out in here. I spent some time in the living room with sweet pea. He's been very very affectionate last couple days. And just wants to sit on my lap constantly. He's a very good cat. I eventually moved to my bedroom. I've been watching a lot of history and stuff online and just enjoying my day. Eventually I laid down. I slept for like an hour. And I came back to the living room hang out with my cat. I'm glad I got that nap. And I think I'm going to go and organize my sweaters and get ready for bed. I don't have to work tomorrow. And I don't have to work the next day. Tomorrow I'm looking forward to working on more art. And maybe baking something. But really I just want to have another day where I don't have to do anything and no one expects anything of me. James is coming back from Massachusetts so I'll probably spend the night at his place and we'll celebrate the first day of Christmas together. The countdown begins.

Stay safe tonight everyone. Keep warm.

#ootd #babe #selfie #art #in progress #tired #weird dog #cat #good day #thanksgiving #thursday

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artificialqueens · 7 years

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But I'm A Cheerleader! - Chapter 3 (Aja x Farrah) - Millie

A/N: this is going to be a slow burner (I think that’s what it’s called) so sorry if you guys are desperate for some actually relationship stuff between Farrah and Aja. But I want it to be realistic, and as they’re supposed to be enemies it’ll take time.

Okay, so Farrah wasn’t really supposed to sleep over. But every time Aja looked at her, already fast asleep, she couldn’t bear to wake her up and send her home. Her mom was probably back by now, since it was almost midnight. Aja couldn’t sleep. All these thoughts were running through her head about what her team would think about this if they found out. Best case scenario: they didn’t. Worst case scenario: she was exiled from the team. The guilt she felt towards her team was already eating her up, but if she’d left Farrah then a lot worse could’ve happened; it was lucky she got there when she did.

Tomorrow, they’d have to act like nothing happened. They’d go back to their own friends and not say a word to each other. Experiences like this were supposed to bring people together, but this was just going to push them further apart. Not like a Glamazon would want to be friends with a Bomber, anyway.

“Aja,” Farrah whispered. “Aja.”

Aja rolled over and checked her phone: 6:30am. Was she seriously being woken up this early?

“What?!” she whispered back angrily.

“I’m hungry,” she replied. “And this is the time I normally eat.”

“Seriously?! This early?”

“Yeah. Now, can we eat?”

Aja rolled over again and tried to block her out. There was no chance of her getting up before 7am, and a whiny Farrah was not going to change that.

“Don’t ignore me,” Farrah pressed.

“No one can ignore you with all that highlighter,” Aja replied, her voice muffled by her pillow. They were close to an argument. This was how it was supposed to be.

“Please, I’m hungry. I’m practically starving.”

“Fine, I’ll get you some damn food! You can change into some stuff for school while I’m downstairs.”

“But I have nothing to wear.” She groaned exhaustedly. Aja had never known anyone so whiny.

“Grab something of mine. The closet’s over there.” She pointed in the vague direction of where it stood. She shot out of bed and groggily trudged down the stairs and put a couple of pieces of bread in the toaster. After a couple of minutes it pinged and popped up, and she dumped one slice on each plate, not bothering to put anything on it. She dragged herself upstairs again.

“Here’s some toast,” she said and handed Farrah the plate. She was dressed in a pair of Aja’s blue jeans and a pink sweatshirt.

“Thanks. And thank you for letting me stay last night.” She took the toast.

“No problem.”

“What will our friends say when they find out?” she asked.

“They’re not going to find out,” Aja said sternly. This was a topic she was hoping to avoid. “We both know we shouldn’t even be talking, let alone helping each other.”

“But… I don’t know.”

“But nothing. We’re leaving in twenty minutes.”

It was break, and Aja hadn’t seen Farrah since they arrived at school. For all she knew, the Bombers knew everything, and soon it’d make its way to the Glamazons. No, you overthinking this, she thought to herself. Farrah wouldn’t. She knows what the teams are like. Her phone vibrated, forcing her out of her anxious bubble - she had a text.

Unknown Number Hey, it’s Farrah. I just spoke to the police and they’re going to find out who mugged me.

She just couldn’t escape this girl. She added Farrah to her contacts and texted back.

Aja How did you get this number?

Farrah It was written on one of the bathroom stalls.

Aja Very funny.

Farrah No, seriously. It had your name under the number and everything.

Aja Oh. Great.

Farrah So yeah. I just wanted you to know.

Aja Thanks. Let me know when they find out who it is.

She was desperate to escape this situation, but her heart wouldn’t let her. It was harder than she thought. Maybe it was curiosity, as if she was waiting for a big reveal in a TV show. Whatever it was, she was still hooked, and she hated herself for it.

The speakers above them in the canteen chimed, signalling that Miss RuPaul was about to make an announcement.

“May all the cheerleaders report to my office,” she requested. All the cheerleaders exchanged confused looks; this had never happened before. The Glamazons stood up from their seats, shortly followed by the Bombers, and made their way to the office. Valentina knocked on the door before they all entered, squeezing themselves into the tiny room.

Miss RuPaul’s office may have been small, but it was the most magnificent room in the school. The walls were painted a soft pink and lined with framed photographs of the previous winners of Footballer Of The Year, with Cheerleader Of The Year below them. There were cabinets either side of her stacked from top to bottom with trophies the school had earned from sporting events and academic state competitions, Tuckahoe High School clearly coming out on top. In the middle was a vast oakwood desk, topped with vases and flowers, with Miss RuPaul printed on a stainless steel plaque that rested in front of her.

“Now,” she began. “Have any of you heard of the West Hollywood Cheerleader Tryouts?” Everyone shook their head apart from Valentina, who squealed in excitement.

“Yes!” she exclaimed, earning a judgemental glare from Aja.

Miss RuPaul smiled at her. “Well then I think you’ll be pleased to know I have entered you all into it for this summer,” she said, causing everyone to gasp. “But!” she interrupted before anyone could speak. “You must work together. As one team.” The statement received groans and complaints from everyone.

“Do we have to?” Kimora asked, exasperated.

“Yes,” their headteacher replied. “Unless you don’t want to compete.” An small uproar began in the tiny office, complaints and shouts filling the small space. “Ladies! I’m saying you need to work together, not that you need to be friends, and that’s that. I expect to see you at rehearsals after school tonight.”

Great. If trying to avoid Farrah wasn’t enough work, now she had a competition on her plate. The day was just getting worse and worse.

Finally, it was Aja’s last class of the day: textiles. They were practicing for their final project of the year, which was free choice. Most people had chosen to do dresses or shirts (Aja had opted for the former), and some had chosen things like pillows (like Farrah, for example, since she wasn’t the best sewer). Textiles was probably Aja’s favourite lesson; doing something she loved was the perfect way to relax after the stress of the day. For others, sewing was not relaxing at all, which Aja could not understand. Maybe it was because she was a better seamstress than them.

Across the room, she could hear Farrah whining. Again. As everyone else was sewing - Aja was halfway through hers - Farrah’s cushion was a mess of tangled thread and fabric stuck in her sewing machine. She grumpily stomped on the pedal, which worsened it, and groaned.

“Aja, can you help Farrah, please?” their teacher asked. She gave Aja a look that told her there was no way of getting out of it.

She got out of her seat and walked to where the sewing machines were at the back of the room. Farrah was sitting there, defeated, looking up at Aja like a puppy left out in the cold.

“What the fuck have you done to this?” she asked, sitting down in the seat next to her. She pulled her chair closer to have a better look. Farrah continued staring at her, as if she was her only hope, but also like she’d taken offence. “I, uh, sorry. But this is a mess.”

“Can it be a pleated cushion?” Farrah asked, touching the ruffles of the fabric where the thread had scrunched it up.

“No way would that pass. Let me show you how to do it.” Carefully, she untangled the thread from around the needle, cutting it with scissors and pulling it out of the fabric with caution. Farrah observed her, watching her nimble fingers work over her failure. The way her eyes roamed over the fabric and spotted the problems was equally as satisfying; she’d probably done it a million times before. Aja didn’t understand why Farrah was still in this class if she couldn’t sew, but she figured that she was probably asking herself the same question. After a good few minutes, the cushion was free from its threaded cage.

“Can you show me how to do it now?” Farrah asked, taking the two pieces of fabric back. They were warm with the friction of Aja’s hands.

“Sure,” Aja said. “Place it under the needle, where you want to start sewing.”

Farrah placed the fabric in the machine. “Then what?”

“Do what you did last time, but hold the fabric flat when you push it along.”

She pressed down on the pedal suddenly, whizzing her cushion-to-be through the same process again. Almost automatically, Aja reached for Farrah’s hands in an attempt to save the fabric, gripping on tight to slow her down.

“Go slowly,” she said. “Don’t push on the pedal so hard.” It took her a few seconds to realise her hands were still holding Farrah’s. “Right, I’ll help you.” It was a lame excuse, but less awkward than saying “shit, sorry, I definitely shouldn’t even be near you right now, so please excuse this”. Eureka was in their class too, probably watching them closely, as Aja could feel eyes piercing into her back. She would’ve thought Eureka would be helping Farrah, but when Aja looked at her piece from the corner of her eye she could tell it wasn’t even close to done, so no wonder why she was subject to the torture.

She guided Farrah through the sewing, showing her which button did what and how the machine worked (their teacher had somehow neglected to show her or something). The fabric she’d chosen was a soft plush polyester in a baby pink colour, which was soft and silky. The fluffiness meant she probably couldn’t add much else to it, resulting in a low grade, but she didn’t think Farrah was too bothered about that if she couldn’t sew to begin with.

“Better?” Aja asked, taking the half-finished cushion out of the machine.

“Much better. Thanks.”

“My advice: don’t use that material for your final piece, ‘cause you can’t add anything to it,” she said. “If you want a better grade, use better fabric.”

She nodded in acknowledgement.

At last, the bell rang to signal the end of the day. Normally that would be a good thing, but now that they had even more rehearsals to do, it was the warning alarm that she’d be hot, sweaty, and exhausted.

The teacher let them go and everyone practically clawed their way out of the classroom. Aja walked quickly to bypass Farrah in case she wanted to walk alongside her. Maybe it was mean, but it was the only way her friends wouldn’t suspect anything. Sadly, it wasn’t going to change the fact that she’d be spending another hour or two with her and the teams watching.

#aja #farrah moan #au #millie #rpdr fanfiction #farraja #but i'm a cheerleader #cheerleader au #s9

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