#me who is right know sewing jersey for a costumer

[flowerscentedartist]

Blue: Error? Any tips for sewing with jersey?

Error: Well, Blue. While sewing with Jersey I always say the golden mantra "I hate Jersey, I hate Jersey, I hate Jersey!"

Blue:

Blue: Okay then

#undertale #undertale au #sans the skeleton #sans #incorrect quotes #blue #us!sans #error #error sans #me who is right know sewing jersey for a costumer #why did they choose jersey #😭

[casicroaks]

Tiffany Valentine has two things in her mind: love and murder. The origins of the brains behind the infamous Lakeshore Strangler and the string of broken hearts she left along her way to Chicago, interwoven with the development of the tempestuous relationship between her and a certain Charles Lee Ray.

CHAPTER 8

[ CHAPTER 1 // CHAPTER 2 // CHAPTER 3 // CHAPTER 4 // CHAPTER 5 // CHAPTER 6 // CHAPTER 7 // CHAPTER 8 // CHAPTER 9 // CHAPTER 10 // CHAPTER 11 // CHAPTER 12 // CHAPTER 13 // CHAPTER 14 // CHAPTER 15 // CHAPTER 16 ]

NEW JERSEY, 1985

Halloween was just around the bend and, for the first time in almost a decade, I had an invitation to celebrate it. Molly had heard from a friend about a costume party taking place at a bar downtown, and she had told me she would love for me to come. She had even told me I could bring a plus one, so I was even more excited to break the news to Chucky. Certainly, I didn’t know whether he would even want to go, but in any case, I was thrilled –and I was going, no doubt about it.

“You already know what you’re gonna go as?” I asked Molly that Sunday, while wandering around the stores already all decked out in their best spooky décor.

“As a witch,” she said with a shrug. “Like every Halloween. This year I’ve thought of changing things up, painting myself green and going as that one hag from ‘The Wizard Of Oz’… but I guess there’s a reason my younger brother was terrified of her for years.”

I laughed. “What, is your brother coming to the party too?”

“No, I mean…” She rolled her eyes and made a hand gesture. “I don’t think guys will find me particularly ravishing when we step out of the dance floor and onto the street to suddenly realize they’ve been making out with a woman slathered in paint.”

“Well, that’s their problem, not yours.”

Molly laughed as well. “So, what about you?”

“Vampire queen,” I said proudly. “I’d really love to dress up as Elvira, you know, from TV?”

“Yes, of course I know who Elvira is!”

“The problem is getting a good wig…”

“Bah, that’s not really an issue –you work at a hair salon, for God’s sake!” Molly said. “Even though I’m great at styling wigs I’m pretty bad at applying acrylic nails… I’m used to working with my hands.”

We got inside a little shop Molly said she bought almost her entire wardrobe in. There was a holiday sale, and it was crawling with people, all of them clearly knowing that the place was their best bet for creepy fashion garments to build up their costumes.

“Do you think Elvira did rip off Vampira?” Molly asked me, tossing me several black dresses to choose from. “Assuming you know who Vampira is.”

“Of course I know who Vampira is,” I said, almost buried in the growing pile. “I think the more the merrier. Besides, Vampira, Elvira, Morticia, Lily Munster –they’re all rather similar anyways.”

“Oh –Lily Munster, that’d be a good Halloween costume too,” she said with a big smile, briefly distracted by a display of metallic belts.

I put the pile down for a moment, on a nearby velvet chair, and examined each dress while Molly went to look for accessories. It had to be something I liked and would wear, but not something that I’d get too attached to and would be sad to put under the needle of my sewing machine. All of the dresses were pretty, but none were exactly what I was looking for. I had to settle for a simple one with bell sleeves, which all it was really needing were some snips and slits to get to look just right.

I turned around and sighed, watching Molly’s tall, backcombed black hair bobbing in the crowd, as she continued her search for some baubles with which to adorn what was otherwise a pretty plain costume.

“I’ve decided I’m gonna ask Annie to dress up as the Good Witch of the North,” she declared, now carrying several jingling bangles in her wrists. “At least so she doesn’t come as a cat again. Cats aren’t scary…”

It was Molly’s turn to go through the pile of dresses. I watched her in silence, thinking about when I had gone to see that Madonna movie with Annie. Now, I had the feeling Molly’s tastes were probably closer to my own.

“Hey, uh, there’s this movie that came out last week,” I commented, once Molly seemed satisfied with her choice. “Fright Night—”

“Ah, yes, I’ve been itching to check it out!”

“What’d you say, if we go watch it next week?” I said with a shrug and a smile.

“Sure!”

I smiled even wider. Last time it had been Annie who had asked me to go to the cinema, since another friend of hers couldn’t make it. It had been a good time, but as kind as Annie was, I could tell we didn’t have that much in common besides being coworkers. Inviting Molly to come along with me, though, and having her accept, felt like a real confirmation of us being friends, or at least friendly enough. It was just the polite thing to do after she suggested I come to the Halloween party; but still, I did like that warm feeling of knowing that maybe this could be the beginning of a true friendship.

“You know, Tiffany,” Molly said with a little smile, getting in line to pay. “If I had known you were so cool, I’d have started talking to you sooner.”

I looked down at the long black dress I had picked. Whose fault was it, that she didn’t know how cool I was earlier?

“Oh –very important –you know how to make fake blood?” Molly asked me.

“Fake blood?”

“Yes, with corn syrup. For your vampire costume.”

“Oh, um, no…”

“No worries. I used to be quite the go-getter back at community theater. Makeup, costuming, set designing sometimes… Guess that explains a lot about me.”

I laughed. “Alright, you teach me how to make blood, I can teach you how to make really good fake nails for your witch costume.”

“Deal.”

We both repressed a grin and shook hands in mock seriousness. The line was moving slowly. I gave the dress another look, up and down and around, just to make sure I had made a good choice.

“… Why didn’t you or Annie ever talk to me before, though?” I asked her.

“We did!” she replied with a frown. “We invited you to stuff, to go out for drinks after work –but you always said you were busy. And besides, you always seemed so bitter and upset over your breakup, even after we gave you that makeover to try and cheer you up…”

I touched my now-blonde curls. The red had washed off completely, and I was back to bleached. It had been gradual, over the course of a few months, with just a decision to stop dyeing it crimson: but one morning I had looked at myself at the bathroom mirror, and saw the same happy moonstruck girl that had fallen in love last time. It was nice to see my reflection so happy again, and yet I was unnerved by remembering how that had turned out…

Molly smiled at me again. “Anyway, I am glad you’re feeling better now, though.”

I smiled back at her, hoping I looked thankful enough, and made an effort to push those gloomy thoughts off my mind, at least long enough so I could enjoy myself on the shopping trip with my newly appointed friend. All I needed was a distraction. And, thankfully, once I got back home, I had my baby to keep me distracted.

“Honey, I’m home!” I said in a sing-song voice, locking the door and kicking my heels off. “You here?”

He didn’t answer, but I saw his mop of dark hair hanging by the armrest of our little couch. That was what we had forgotten about, that time we went to the Ikea. We really needed an actual lounging chair, or something, so we could watch TV without having to find complicated ways to drape ourselves over that sorry excuse of a sofa.

“I got news!” I continued saying in a lilt, with a big smile, raising the bag with my purchases. “One of my coworkers told me about this Halloween party at The Raven’s Nest –a costume party! So we went buying things for our costumes…” I pulled the long black dress from the bag, dropping it and unfolding the garment for Chucky to see. “I got this on sale, isn’t it perfect? Though I’m planning to do some modifications…”

I waited for him to say something. He blew some smoke, still looking at the TV, which I then realized was not even on. A few seconds passed, in which none of us said anything. I finally huffed, losing my smile.

“You can at least pretend to be excited, you know,” I grumbled, folding the dress and stuffing it back in the bag. “I was thinking of inviting you to be my plus one, though I don’t think I’d want you to come along if you’re gonna go as Oscar the goddamn Grouch.”

He snorted a laugh, but didn’t do anything else. Typical of him.

“Alright, that’s enough. Why the silent treatment?” I asked. “What’s wrong?”

Chucky finally turned towards me, giving me a look as if he had just realized I was there. “I just thought you’d be home by now, that’s all.”

“Geez, do I need to tell you when I go out and when I don’t, now? What are you, my mom?”

He took a drag and grumbled something under his breath. “What’s for dinner?”

I huffed. “I don’t know. See if there’s some leftovers in the fridge that we could heat up.”

“You could have brought something, since you were out shopping…”

“I was out with a friend,” I said, crossing my arms. “And the H-Mart isn’t exactly a hot spot, I gotta say. Not that you would know –you probably haven’t stepped into one in your life.”

At least before he met me, Chucky had a pretty shitty diet, consisting mostly of fast food and drugstore snacks. It was a miracle he was so skinny –though there was also the fact that he often forgot to eat his meals. He simply wasn’t hungry until he was reminded of it, for some weird reason. And, when he was hungry, he was usually straight-up starving. And an empty stomach didn’t help with a bad mood.

“There’s a food court at the mall, I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” he said. “People go there to eat, sometimes. You can even bring boxes of the stuff back with you! Does that ring a bell?”

I closed my hand in a fist. I had grown pretty thick skin over the years, but something that always particularly irritated me was when someone treated me like I was stupid. Of course, Chucky knew that very well. “Excuse me if I wasn’t feeling like having that crappy cardboard pizza again.”

After a whole afternoon of being out and about, I needed some coffee, pronto. Unlike Chucky who, despite everything, could be pretty fussy at times, I knew that a good quick rinse of hot water was enough to get the grime off old used coffee mugs –dirty dishes and cutlery were a different matter, of course, since they accumulated grease and crumbs –but with mugs and glasses, one could be a bit more forgiving. At its most difficult, the worst stain a glass could have was lipstick. I fished the mug that I always used, one that Chucky had gifted me for our first Valentine’s Day. It was the cutest thing, a creamy white with a fluffy grey cartoon kitten drawn on the side in the style of those pretty Hallmark card illustrations, a big blue bow tied around her neck. He had told me he had thought of getting me earrings or something like that at first, but that when he saw it at the store it reminded him of me, and that he liked to think it matched with his own Garfield mug. I still think it was the sweetest, most adorable present anyone has ever given me for Valentine’s. At the sight of it, I smiled a little, against my best efforts to stay angry.

“Where’s the sugar?” I asked out loud, opening the sugar bowl in the cabinet and finding it empty.

Chucky shrugged. “How should I know? Guess it would have been nice if you bought some on your way back, huh?”

“Don’t you work at a goddamn store?” I asked, slamming the cabinet door for emphasis. “Why don’t you take care of groceries for a change?”

“It’s a convenience store, not a grocery store!” he claimed. “And you’re the one who’s always saying we should eat healthier. What’d you want me to do, bring home a bag of Cheetos for dinner?”

“You know, it’d be something!”

“It’s not my fault you’re the one who knows how to cook,” he said, crossing his arms like a sulky brat.

“You can make a grilled cheese,” I replied. “You’re not that clueless around the kitchen.”

“There’s no cheese,” he said, pointing at the fridge.

“Then make scrambled eggs! Improvise!”

“I thought you liked cooking!”

I scoffed. “Like my mother used to say, ‘there’s such a thing as too much of a good thing’. Just because I like cooking doesn’t mean I dream of being chained to a stove for the rest of my damn life.”

“Jesus, you’re so dramatic…”

“I’d like to see you do it every single day, and then try and call me dramatic!”

He rolled his eyes at me. I think that was the last straw. I could reply to his teasing and his bitching, but when he decided that he had had enough, that I was the one being ridiculous, and that he wouldn’t even argue with me anymore –when I was clearly in the right –and assume a silent victory –that was when I would lose it.

“For God’s sake, I do everything here –I cook, I clean, I work the most hours –what do you do?” I yelled and stomped, demanding his attention. “You don’t even chip in! You just slack around, doing nothing—”

“Oh, sure, it’s really clear how much you’re breaking your damn back!” he yelled back at me, gesturing towards the sink, where the dirty dishes had begun to pile up. “And that’s without even mentioning the dirty laundry that’s begun to stink up the bedroom!”

I laughed out loud. “These are your dirty socks, baby! I should know –I’m the one who’s left having to darn them!” I cried. “Besides, you said you’d take it to the laundromat! You promised!”

“And I’ll do it—!”

“When? Huh? When?”

“I’ll –I’ll do it, eventually!” he stammered. “Right about when you wash one damn dish! I always have to end up doing it!”

“I’m the one who cooks here –it’s just fair that you at the very least help out with that! Like my mother always said—”

“Shut up with your goddamn mother’s sayings!” he yelled, covering his ears with his hands. “You’re fucking insufferable! It’s all bitching from you, twenty-four-seven!”

“Oh, so says Mister Happy Camper!”

“Aw, go get fucked, Tiff,” he said finally, opening his eyes wide and furious, in that way he did when he was about to lose whatever patience he had left. “Maybe that way you’ll loosen the fuck up!”

What could I even say to that? I was left speechless. Chucky had cursed me out a couple times before, so it wasn’t like it was unprecedented or out of nowhere; but it always felt like a particularly hurtful thing to do. I wished I had something half as hurtful to hurl back.

“How dare you speak to me like that!?” With everything that I did for him! “God, you can be so… So immature!”

He let out a mighty cackle. “Oh, I know you are… But what am I?”

I opened my mouth, but I didn’t have a reply. I knew that he’d just repeat that over and over, I knew him well enough to know that he had no shame to do such a thing. And, knowing he had won the argument by default, Chucky laughed at me, triumphant.

“Shut up! Shut up for once!” I yelled. He kept laughing, and laughing, and laughing… And I finally let out a scream, as loud as I could, loud enough to be louder than him, and in my anger I slammed my hands against the counter—

We both went quiet. We both looked down. My favorite mug laid shattered and in pieces, some still trembling on the counter, others in a brown puddle on the floor. The kitten’s face was cracked in half, still more or less recognizable as part of the ceramic puzzle. But it was certainly not just a little chip on the side.

“Sheesh.”

I brought my hands, holding the larger pieces, closer to my face. And I began sobbing. I wished I could say it was just out of anger, like I sometimes do when I get too mad; but I was truly sad, I can’t deny it. I really loved that mug.

Chucky clicked his tongue. “Come on, Tiff, it’s just a mug…” he said, rubbing my shoulder. “It’s no big deal. I’ll get you another one, an even nicer one.”

“It’s not just a mug!” I snapped, shrugging his hand off me, and a tear rolled down my cheek. “It’s the one you gifted me. For Valentine’s…”

“Well… You glue together dolls, right? China dolls?” he asked, and pointed to the collection on the mantle. “Aren’t china dolls and mugs made out of more or less the same thing?”

I wiped my runny nose. “Yeah… I guess.”

“So, you can put it back together,” Chucky said. He cupped my cheek with his hand, and wiped a tear away with his thumb. “Babe, come on, don’t cry. It’s okay.”

I sighed, exhausted at him and at myself, and leaned my head against his chest.

“… You know, I just miss you all the time, when you’re away,” I said to his heart. “When I have to be alone here.”

Chucky put his hand on my shoulder, stroking it gently, and slowly moved away to kneel and pick up the pieces of my mug. I kneeled too, and picked a few myself, careful not to get a cut.

“I miss you too.”

That’s all I wanted to hear. I just wanted to make sure he still loved me.

“Look, I’m… I’m sorry for not helping around,” he finally said, dropping the pieces on a little blue dish by the coffeepot.

“I’m sorry for not being around as often,” I said, dropping mine along.

“Is this gonna change anything?”

I looked up at him. Chucky kept his sights square on the blue dish, staring down the pieces I was going to have to glue back together. I wondered if he was really thinking about getting me a new one. A fixed mug might still be pretty leaky, after all. Still, even with one exactly like it, it wouldn’t be the same.

“No… No, probably not,” I admitted with a little chuckle. “I don’t think so.”

He gave me one of his half-smiles. “Yeah, I don’t think so either.”

We both chuckled bitterly, looking down at the now-cold puddle of coffee at our feet, and we sighed.

“Know what?” he said suddenly. “I think I still have an old werewolf mask I wore for a few Halloweens, back when I was a kid.”

I smiled. “You think it’ll still fit you and your big dumb head?”

He snickered. “I haven’t changed that much since then.”

“Boy, don’t I know that.”

He laughed. I giggled along, wiping away my last tears. It made no sense to argue so much, especially over such silly things. But we still did it, and it didn’t last long, but we could really hurt each other. Even if we managed to forget about it, I still had to wonder how much I could take before I really snapped. Or, on the other hand, how much Chucky could take himself, before he lost all patience with me.

As long as we loved each other, though, I had to believe that everything would be alright.

“Got any money left from your shopping trip?” Chucky asked, picking up the tie he had left hanging from the chair.

“Yeah, a couple bucks…”

“Ah, never mind that,” he said, tying the knot of his tie around his neck. “I’m treating us both to dinner tonight. What’re you in the mood for?”

I tapped my chin with the tip of my finger, pretending to give it some deep thought. “… Remember that little Italian place by Franklin Avenue, with the great food and the awful service?”

Chucky grinned, circling his arm around my waist and pulling me to him. “You took the words right out of my mouth.”

I laughed, pulling him by his shirt collar for a kiss. “Let me put on my shoes and we’ll get going.”

“Don’t forget about your switchblade,” he said, putting on his coat. “I’m not sharing my knife again.”

“That was just one time! I never even take it out of my bag,” I exclaimed, holding onto his shoulder for balance and squeezing my feet into the heels. “And sharing won’t kill you, you know?”

He rolled his eyes. I huffed, but decided not to keep at it. It was nothing that couldn’t be fixed with a good meal and some fun for dessert.

“Ready to blow off some steam?” he asked with the keys in one hand, the other stretched out to me, his fingers twitching and hurrying me.

I nodded, skipping towards him, and grabbed his hand. I noticed there was a quiet buzzing in the air. I saw, just before we closed the door and left the apartment in the dark, a big fat fly hovering around the sink.

As we walked back home that night, hand in hand, sticky with strawberry ice cream and warm blood, I had the brilliant idea to suggest we played a few rounds of poker so we could decide who was gonna do the dishes, at least for the month. Chucky accepted, obviously; he never refused a game or a dare. He was quite better at it than I had expected, though of course, even as I turned a blind eye to a couple cards, I ended up winning by a landslide. He did manage to convince me to be the one to dry and put it all back into the cabinets, and, for extra measure, he also threw in a deal that he would choose what we had for dinner for the next two months or so. He already kind of did, though, so I didn’t mind much. So, while Chucky scrubbed the grease off the spoons, I dried what he had cleaned and put it back into the cabinets. When we worked together, it didn’t feel like the daunting mountain of waste it always seemed to be. If only we could find a way to keep it up, just like when, once in a blue moon, he would help me cook by chopping garlic and onions (since, for God knows what reason, he was the only person I had ever met who somehow didn’t tear up), I knew we could be so much happier together.

Not that happiness was in short supply that month, certainly.

I was really excited for the Halloween party, of course, but it wasn’t the only reason for celebration that month: our anniversary was coming up, too. Sitting on the kitchen table, with the TV keeping me company the Thursdays-to-Saturdays evenings in which I was home alone, I glued my mug back together in parts, building it up over the days, waiting patiently for the glue to dry fully before adding the next batch of pieces, while thinking about what we should do to observe the occasion. I considered booking us a table at some fancy restaurant, or preparing a picnic at Foschini Park, before finally deciding that it would be much nicer to just spend the day by ourselves at our apartment, enjoying a good homecooked dinner and each other’s company. I certainly liked big gestures, like last Valentine’s Day, in which Chucky got us a room at a swanky hotel; but sometimes smaller things were wonderful, too.

I prepared Swedish meatballs, his favorite, to eat along with that type of ribbon-like, flat wide pasta noodles, my favorite. Something wonderful about cooking was how the place would warm up, how it made what was otherwise our little, rather messy apartment, into something that felt much like a home. The water had already boiled and I had strained the pasta, now waiting in the pot to be served, while the sauce was bubbling and simmering on the stove. While he set the table, I changed into my nightdress and fixed my hair in front of the bedroom mirror, humming to myself.

“Don’t let the sauce burn, hun,” I called, breaking the silence.

“Alright…”

I took one last drag of the cigarette on our dresser, turning my head to see how my hair was looking. It was a truly lovely afternoon. The sun was setting, the last light of the day was streaming through the windows, and he was choosing a record to put on.

“I’m not in the mood for Alice Cooper again,” I said out loud, carefully taking out my curlers. “Put something else—”

Right on cue, Robert Plant’s wails came to me from the living room. I smiled. I left the pins on the box and walked in to have a better listen –and Chucky surprised me from the other side of the doorframe and hugged me from behind, picking me up and spinning around, and I let out a happy little squeal, grabbing onto his arms, before he lowered me back onto the floor. I leaned my head back, and he swayed his head to the music, mouthing the words against my cheek.

“I said, I can't quit you, babe…” I sang along. He laid a little kiss under my jaw. “I guess I got to put you down for a while…”

“Good choice?”

“Yeah,” I smiled, stroking his face. “Good choice.”

“This was my first record,” he said. I turned around just enough to shoot him a curious glance. “The oldest one.”

“Figures,” I said, closing my eyes. “I can imagine you so clearly… A little boy, having his whole world rocked, listening to this for the first time.”

Much like the books on his shelf, the record sleeve was so worn and cracked, and there was so much age and scrapes on the record itself, it made perfect sense it had some real nostalgic value. I wanted to ask him if it had been back when he lived with his family, or when he was already an orphan, living with other kids. Maybe a schoolfriend had come over and brought the record. Maybe it was a gift from his parents. Maybe an older kid at the orphanage had smuggled it in, and all the other children gathered round like they were listening to horror stories around a campfire, mesmerized by this hot new music, unlike anything they had experienced before.

I imagined that was probably a lot like what his first time had been like. A normal setting, a daily situation, interrupted by something life-changing.

“A year already…” I said, turning around to face him and resting my arms on his shoulders. “It’s amazing how time flies, huh?”

He nodded, his smile just the littlest bit weaker. I noticed it, though.

“What’s wrong?”

“… Is something burning?”

“Oh –shit.”

Chucky laughed while I ran to the stove to turn it off, and quickly checked on the tomato sauce.

“I told you to watch it,” I said, clicking my tongue. “Anyway –it’s done.”

“Good, good…” he chuckled, as I came back from the kitchen. “Hey, Tiff,” He took a paper-wrapped object out of his pocket. “This little toy seems to have your name on it.”

“Oh?” I perked up. “For me? What is it?”

Chucky grinned and tossed it at me. I caught it and ripped the paper as quick as I could. It was an absolutely beautiful nail file, shiny and silver, with a sharp edge on the side, sharp enough to slice. I gasped in delight, running the edge of it against my thumb, making the thinnest, most delicate cut, enough to break skin but not enough to draw blood. Beautiful. And miles better than my old rusty switchblade.

“Happy one year, babe,” he said, wrapping an arm around me and planting a kiss on my temple.

“Oh, Chucky… I love it,” I said, trying it out, filing one of my chipped nails. It was pretty good –heavy duty. With a bit of care, it should last me quite some time. “It’s exactly what I was needing.”

“It’s not the same as stabbing, you know,” Chucky commented. “But throat slicing’s an art you already master, after all.”

“Flatterer,” I said, turning my eyes towards him, pressing the nail file against my lips, feeling its perfect metal coldness, before smiling again and giving him a smooch. “It’s the perfect gift, darling.”

This reminded me of my own purchase. Giving him another quick little peck and slipping the nail file under the elastic of my stocking for safekeeping, I hurried back towards the doorway, where the coatrack was and where I hang my jackets and my black leather bag.

“I like to think that today’s special dinner is my present, but… I also got you this little something.”

I pulled a bag out of my jacket pocket, and carefully handed it to him. Chucky glanced at me, curious and excited, before opening the little colorful plastic bag and peeking inside. His reaction though, was, let’s say, underwhelming. He frowned, in what seemed to be confusion. For a moment I wondered if it had broken when I had brought it home.

“What is it?” I asked him.

“You tell me…”

“Well, take it out!” I chuckled. “Take a good look at it!”

Chucky picked it out from the bag and held it carefully in the palm of his hand. I smiled at the sight of it. It was this cute little porcelain clown doll, in a yellow outfit and hat, with little bells sewn to the tips of his shoes. It had this cheeky grin painted on, and half-closed eyes looking sideways, as if he knew some sort of naughty secret.

“Isn’t he the cutest?”

He kept examining it for a few seconds more –I swear, he just wanted to mess with me –but finally he let out a snicker. “It’s… Yeah. It’s the cutest little bastard of your collection so far.”

“My collection?” I repeated, putting my hands over his. “This one’s yours, sweetface…”

He shot me a confused look. “Really?”

I laughed. “Of course! It’s your present!”

“Oh… Okay,” he said, turning it around again. “Uh… Well, y’know, I have no idea what I should do with it. You’re the one who puts them around, sets them in their place…”

“Well, this one’s yours, so you get to decide all that.”

“Huh…” he muttered, inspecting the toy again, as if waiting for it to do a dance or say a joke or something. I began to wonder if it had been a good idea in the first place.

“Don’t… Don’t you like it?” I asked him.

“Yes, I do, Tiff, it’s just that… I don’t know –what am I supposed to do with a weird little clown?”

“Don’t I ask myself that question every other day,” I joked. He rolled his eyes. “You can just keep him around, like with any other toy. You can put it on the shelf with the rest of them, or you can put him in the closet to look after your shirts, or in the kitchen cabinet so he can watch out for rats—”

“Well, he looks pretty fragile,” he said. “Bet a determined rat could do a number on him.”

“Maybe he’s tougher than he seems,” I shrugged. “What would you name him?”

Chucky looked up at me, then back at the little clown. I could see how his face lit up as he was coming up with an idea. And, finally, he smiled. “I’ll keep him on the nightstand. He can watch over us… And we can call him Peeping Tommy.”

I burst out laughing. “Oh, so he’s an impish little one!”

“I bet he is,” he grinned. “Bet all the things he does when we’re not looking—”

“So, you do like it,” I said brightly. “I’m so glad.”

“Yeah, I like it… It’s just a really fucking weird gift, is the thing, Tiff.”

“What would you have liked, then?” I asked him, raising my eyebrows, while he leaned to the side and left little Tommy on the coffee table, next to the heart-shaped ashtray. “So I know what to be on the lookout for by Christmas.”

Chucky simply shrugged. “I don’t know… A pack of gum. A tie clip. A ham sandwich… Really, Tiff, I’m not that hard to buy for.”

 “Alright, then,” I said with a laugh. “We’re gonna have the best ham sandwiches available for our Christmas dinner.”

“That’d be just terrific,” Chucky smiled, and kissed me again.

I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him closer. As we kissed, deeper and deeper, as his hand got closer and closer to the nail file on my thigh, my unfocused thoughts went to how full he made me feel, how I had never fit somewhere as perfectly as I did in his arms, how after a year, regardless of how short or how long a time it had felt, there was this knowledge that this was the love I was searching for, the only love in which I felt myself. Whoever I was when I was with him, it was the closest thing to a real me than there ever was. I think that back when we first met, when Chucky held the back of my neck and a butcher knife over my head, and I smiled at him and welcomed it, that was the first time I felt I was truly understood. I held him tighter, pressing myself against him fully, wanting to lose myself in him, all the while needing to breathe and needing the kiss to last a little longer. A year was not enough –I needed a lifetime. God, I wanted to be the one to bury him so badly. I wanted him to be the one to bury me.

“Did you ever think we’d end up like this?” I asked him, breaking the kiss, almost in a whisper. “A whole year together?”

“Did you?”

“I asked you first.”

“I asked you second.”

I scoffed, wiping his lips with the tip of my fingers –he had my lipstick all over his mouth, like a big red stain. Chucky scrunched his nose, playfully dodging my hand. “I think… I did. You know, I’d almost given up on dating by the time I met you. I had this really clear image in my mind, when I was a kid… Of this beautiful home, and this beautiful spouse, and these beautiful children, and this fairytale life… It was as if everything I did was just killing time till that dream came true. And then, then I had my last breakup,” I sighed.

He smiled proudly. I rolled my eyes.

“Yeah, good for you, asshole, but back then I was devastated.”

“Good thing nobody ever broke up with me, then.”

“Nobody ever broke up with me either,” I pointed out. “That didn’t mean it was any easier on me. I was so hopeless, I felt like giving up completely.”

He frowned, still smiling. “Really? What were you gonna do with your life, then, before meeting me?”

I shrugged, clicking my nails. “I don’t know… Guess I was aimless. What about you? Did you have a plan?”

“No… Never,” he replied. I should have imagined it. “Like I told you, Tiff, best thing you can do is live for the day,” Chucky insisted, laying his hands on my shoulders. “You gotta get some fun out of life. Don’t you know? Every day above ground is a good day.”

“You ever thought of becoming a motivational speaker? You’d make a fortune,” I joked. “Back when I lived for the day, it felt more like I was chasing an early grave.”

“Guess that’s part of the fun,” Chucky said, looking away from my face and playing with one of my curlers. I tried to slap his hand off, but he laughed and kept trying to pull one off my hair. “The closest you are to the edge…”

“Guess you’re right,” I said. And I smiled to myself, thinking back of how we met. “Guess I’m the one who knows that best.”

“Bet you are.”

“Stop it,” I said, though I did let out a little giggle when he finally managed to pull a curler off, letting down a thick curl of bleached hair over my face. Chucky laughed too, tucking it away from over my eyes and to the back of my head.

“Don’t overthink it, Tiff. You overthink it, you drain all the fun from it. You’re thinking about what you should have done better, what you should have done instead… As long as you’re in control of the situation, what the hell does it matter?”

“Right,” I remembered his gift, the nail file that I had safely stored in my stocking, and pulled it out, holding it between our faces. “Can’t fear death when you’re the one holding the knife.”

Leaning forward just a bit, I ran the dull side of the file across his face, using the hooked end of it to pull a strand of hair off his face, just like he had done with mine. He stayed still, perfectly still, looking down at my lips, allowing me to stroke his cheek with his gift.

“Live for the day… That’s a good philosophy,” I whispered. I wondered if he was at the very least a little afraid of me right then. If he was, he was really good at not showing it. “What do you live for, Chucky?”

He took a deep breath and thought about it for a second. “I think… I live for that small moment of recognition just before someone’s killed. You know what they say, about your life flashing before your eyes… I think that’s bullshit. I think that the last thing passing through someone’s mind is the realization that there is no way out of this. That you are completely powerless to save yourself.”

Pontificating again. Sometimes I wondered if Chucky ever wanted to be a preacher. Or a Bond villain.

“And you like that?” I had never really cared about whatever went through people’s last moments. I just found their dying, oh-shit faces hilarious.

“I love that,” he smiled. But then he thought it over. “… I love when that happens to someone else.”

I wanted to ask him, is that why he didn’t kill me, that night when we first met? Did I not have that look in my eyes when he threatened me with that knife? Was that why he spared me? But I thought of a better, more straightforward question. One I didn’t quite remember having ever asked him before.

“Why didn’t you kill me?” I asked him, lowering my nail file. “Yet, at least.”

Chucky frowned, his hands holding my hips just a little bit tighter, pulling me closer. “Well, why didn’t you kill me either? God knows you had your fair share of chances.”

I laughed out loud. Certainly, right then and there, I was holding a sharp object dangerously close to his neck. One he had handed me himself, no less. “Isn’t it obvious? Because I—”

But I stopped myself right there. I usually don’t even think about it, when I tell someone I love them. And, besides, we had been a full year together. Still, even though I was sure I had told him, probably more than once, at some point or another, that I loved him, something made me change my mind at the last second.

“… Because I have fun with you.”

Chucky shrugged. “Same back at you.”

That felt good enough. I grinned and pressed my forehead against his, closing my eyes, focusing on the music, on the pressure of his body against mine. We both swayed to the music, kind of like dancing, softly, holding each other close. I wondered why I couldn’t just say it, that I loved him, right then and there. Maybe it was because I knew he knew already. He had to know –I showed him so every single day we were together.

“If you killed me, how would you do it?” I asked quietly. “Top three ways, don’t think too hard about it, just go.”

“Oh, um…!” He threw his head back, going through what was probably a list he already had made up in his mind. “Electrocution, because that’s always a blast… Second, maybe a classic stabbing –or maybe hanging –no, definitely, stabbing’s better—” I rolled my eyes with a little laugh. Of course he would go with stabbing. “… And I’ve always wanted to try splitting someone with an axe or something like that, right down the middle. See what’s inside.”

I raised an eyebrow. “So, being an axe murderer is still on your to-do list?”

“Yeah,” he sighed longingly. “Someday, I know it.” Having said that, Chucky pulled aside a strand of hair that I hadn’t managed to wrap around my curlers. “What about you, Tiff? How would you kill me?”

“Do I have to answer?” I asked him back with a little grin. “After all, now I got a heads up on what you might try to pull on me.”

“Yes, you have to answer,” he insisted. “I already told you mine, now you gotta tell me yours, it’s only fair—”

“Alright, alright,” I huffed, and looked up at the ceiling like he had done. “Hmm…” I did have to think it over. Chucky had obviously just listed the things he wanted to do and hadn’t had a chance yet. But I wanted mine to be more personal. “… I always thought maiming was an interesting approach.”

“C’mon, that’s not a real way to kill someone—”

“Yes, it is! If you make them bleed out—”

“But then that’d be death by blood loss,” he pointed out. “Not death by maiming.”

“Well, beheading, then. The most lethal maiming of the bunch. Then I might be able to keep your head in a shoebox in my fridge,” I said, twirling a lock of his hair around my finger. “Now wouldn’t that be nice.”

He chuckled. “Always the romantic, Tiff—”

“Okay, but second on the list, it would be burning…” I said. “Because I do really want to try that out sometime, too.”

“Jesus—”

“What? Too extreme?”

“You’re choosing all the ones that would keep me dying for longer.”

I laughed. “Oh, come on, as if electrocuting was nice, quick and easy.”

“And your last one?”

“… A shot to the heart. Truly nice, quick and easy,” I said lovingly, patting his chest. “I’d make sure it wouldn’t hurt.”

He smiled and kissed my nose. “How sweet of you.”

I smiled and kissed him back. I rested my head in the small of his neck, pressing my cheek against his shoulder. One of his hands went up and rested on my back, just between my shoulder blades. It was almost like a hug. I felt I could stay like that forever.

“… You know something I am pretty bummed by, Tiff?”

“Yeah?”

“That I wasn’t there to see your first kill,” he said wistfully. “It’s something important. Life changing.”

I giggled as I moved back from his shoulder, facing him again. “Don’t worry about it. He was just an asshole I was sort-of dating.” As with everything that had happened before us, he didn’t really need to know the details of our relationship. Just bringing up my last breakup made me feel a bit sick.

Still, Chucky was now intrigued. “Mm… But how did you do it? Shot to the heart?”

“Well, he asked me to shave him, because he was kind of high and wasn’t very lucid,” I explained with a tilt of my head, as I tried to remember the details. “He handed me the straight razor –I had done this a few times before. And, y’know, one thing led to another...”

He let out a little snicker. “You sliced his throat?”

I smiled to myself. Indeed I did. My first time. “Yes. Slowly at first, until he began screaming… Then I stabbed his throat to keep him quiet, before ending the slit just under his ear.”

“And did he keep quiet?”

“No, he kept doing this… This gurgling sound…” I said, furrowing my brow in concentration, looking back up at the ceiling, trying to remember what it was like. “I don’t know what did him in, really, the blood loss or the choking.”

“Mm… What else?”

I looked down back at him. He was grinning that familiar smirk, gazing at me with that smug look in his face. I huffed. “Alright, listen, just because I didn’t stab him fifty times doesn’t mean it’s not pretty good for a fourteen-year-old—”

He suddenly pulled me to him and kissed me, a different kiss, and then I realized what he had meant with ‘what else’. I closed my eyes and kissed him back, and after a moment I giggled, tugging at his hair to keep him a few inches away, just enough to answer.

“While he kept bleeding out, and trying to say something, I was still holding the razor…” I whispered. “And I had done it slowly enough that it was, you know, soaked—”

He moved down to kiss my neck. A moan slipped from my lips. It took a couple of seconds for me to remember what I was saying.

“… Soaked with blood. And his body went limp, and I knew it was over… And the blood dripped down to my hand –and trickled between my fingers –and it was this warm, thick thing going down my arm, as I kept looking at the razor…”

That seemed to do the trick. He kept kissing, now with a bit of teeth, moving down to my collarbone. I sighed, dropping my new nail file. His hand went down my hips and to my thighs, groping and pressing his fingers against my skin, and I bent a knee, welcoming him between my legs. And, as he pulled down my bra, licking his lips, I thought…

“—Wait –I got an idea, baby.”

Chucky groaned and grumbled, but I pulled my bra strap back up and hurried to my drawers. I had forgotten where I had put those things, if I still had kept them at all… But they had cost me a pretty penny, so I should have better not thrown them away by accident.

He eventually followed me into the bedroom, sulking, with his hands in his pockets. “Are you gonna share it with the class, or…?”

“Just look for a rope I got, they might be in there with the rest of the dolls,” I told him, still searching, making a gesture towards the nightstand.

“Rope?”

I turned to him. “Yeah, and handcuffs.”

His eyebrows shot up in what I could only describe as some kind of thrilled shock. “Handcuffs?”

I took a deep breath and put my hands on my hips. “Are you deaf? Yes, handcuffs, that’s what I said—”

“Are those for what I think they’re for?”

I gave him a smile. “Why else would I have handcuffs for?”

He nodded, looking around the room, and rummaged through the drawers of the nightstand, now slightly more hurried. I stifled a laugh at his sudden excitement. I went on through the drawers, until I finally found them among some old fetish outfits.

“Ah, here’s the sneaky little thing—”

Chucky practically jumped to my side. “So, is that your idea?” he asked, glancing at the stuff in the drawer, then at me, then back at the stuff. His fingers were twitching, as if he had received an electric jolt.

I nodded. “Are you interested?”

He let out a breathless scoff.

“Would this be your first time?” I asked him.

“Uh… I’ve tried it once or twice, but I think it never…” Chucky shrugged with something more or less similar to embarrassment. Or, rather, as close as embarrassment as someone like him could ever get. “It never quite worked out as it’s supposed to.”

“Shame,” I sighed, though, undeniably, this made the whole thing more exciting. “Guess I’ll have to teach you, then. We’ll go straight to the basics, first level, so you don’t get too overwhelmed too quickly,” I said, picking out one of my gloves. But I looked back at him and raised one finger. “Only as long as I’m in charge, Chucky. Got it?”

He let out a deep annoyed groan, like he did when he was about to throw a tantrum. To my surprise, though, he managed to strain through it, and soon was smiling his crooked smile again. “Alright. But next time we switch.”

“Of course,” I said. I pulled out the drawer and emptied it on the bed. “Now: what caught your eye?”

Chucky really had no idea at all. I ended up deciding for us, since he clearly didn’t know the first thing about what to expect. Since fully tying him up could get sticky pretty quickly, handcuffs would do. I gave him a quick explanation of what I had in mind, since I could see just how impatient he was for us to start; and, lastly, I told him about the concept of a safe word, since apparently in those previous attempts he hadn’t had become familiar with it.

“Alright… So, what’s the word?”

“‘Buttons’?” I suggested as I picked up the things we would use, and put the rest away back in the drawer. “You can say it at any moment you find yourself uncomfortable or afraid, and we’ll stop.”

“Afraid, sure—”

“There’s no shame in admitting you’re scared,” I told him with a straight face.

He just laughed, and, at my request, began undressing.

“Ah, ah –you’ll have to take it all off for it, darling,” I said once he stopped. “Briefs too.”

“What?” he frowned. “Why? What for?”

“I need to have full access to you,” I explained with an innocent shrug, as if it was obvious. “And besides, it’ll be much easier if there’s nothing between me and you.”

Chucky huffed, but complied. In the meantime, I watched him, dangling the handcuffs with one hand and holding my getup in the other. Only once he was done and fully naked in front of me, I noticed how awkward he felt by it. I was still clothed. It finally dawned on me. This was a first.

“… You okay, darling?” I asked him gently.

“Yeah,” he replied. The anxiety was obvious in his voice. “When do we start?”

“Almost there,” I smiled, and patted the bed. “Now, lie down.”

He shot me a quick glance that veered a bit too close to uncertainty for my taste, but once again, he complied. I took his wrists carefully and handcuffed them to the bedframe, and then moved down and did the same with his ankles.

“Remember, ‘buttons’,” I said right after the familiar little clicking noise that confirmed it was nice and locked. “Plural.”

“You sure you know how to do this?”

“Are you hesitating, Chucky?”

He scoffed at this. “Of course not. I’m just asking—”

“Don’t worry,” I said, going back to him, and leaving a little kiss on his forehead. “I got some experience.”

And, now with him immobilized, I gave him a wink and disappeared into the bathroom.

“Hey! Where are you going?” he cried.

“You’re ready, but I’m not!”

He groaned. “How long is it gonna take?”

“Just a minute!” I answered in a sing-song voice, taking off the curlers from my hair. I had left the bathroom door open, but I knew that, from where he was lying (and immobilized as he was), Chucky wouldn’t get a single peek.

There was some excitement in finally being able to wear those black knee-high boots for what I had gotten them for. Apart from them, I hadn’t worn any of the stuff for a couple years now, but fortunately everything still fit perfectly. Maybe the corset was a bit tighter than before, but that’s how it was meant to be worn, regardless. I went back and forth on whether I would wear stockings or not, but decided against it. The long black gloves were enough, and since the boots would be staying on, stockings would just be a bother. It may not seem like it, but there really was a lot of thought put into looking that good. Not that Chucky could ever really appreciate it, anyways.

“Hey, Tiff!” he called from the bedroom.

“What?”

“How much longer? My nose’s itching.”

I snorted. “If you can’t be a little patient, then you won’t be able to enjoy it!”

“Well, it better be worth it.”

I finished the lacing, threw on the spiked collar just for old times’ sake, checked myself in the mirror and made sure my makeup was right. I put up my hair and retouched my lipstick, taking a little longer than needed, grinning to myself while thinking of Chucky being bored to death all tied up back in the bedroom. Indeed, a couple seconds later, I heard what sounded like him banging the frame of the bed with the back of his head. I snickered, not even trying to remain serious, and I went back to the bedroom –and he immediately stopped banging his head when he laid eyes on me.

“Tell me, sweetheart,” I smiled, leaning on the doorframe, making sure he could see all of it. “Was it worth it?”

“… We're off to a good start.”

I walked closer to the bed, in no hurry. He automatically tried to move forward –pulling from the handcuffs, as if he had forgotten I had him restrained. I giggled. I think it was only then that the full situation finally hit him.

“Shit.”

“Now we start,” I declared, standing by the end of the bed. “Now, remember, one last time. The safe word is ‘buttons’. Are you gonna remember that, dear?”

 “Yes,” Chucky grumbled. “I’ve already fucking told you—”

“Hey, be polite, now,” I said, raising my eyebrows and a gloved finger. “You’re in no situation to be rude.”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “Don’t push it, Tiff…”

“Pushing it is what it’s all about,” I said. “Unless you’d rather we just had dinner—”

“I didn’t say that,” he interrupted me. “I didn’t say anything like that.”

“Alright, then,” I sighed. This would be a true test of patience, it seemed. I only had one previous partner in this, but it had always gone quite smoothly. It would be stupid of me to think it would go like that with Chucky, though, of course. He always had to put up a fight.

Still, I thought with a smile, maybe that was what would make this the more fun.

“I’m gonna go soft on you, but you can always ask me to tone it down,” I said, climbing onto the bed, managing to keep my balance as I stood on the mattress on my high heels. “Okay?”

He nodded, but I wasn’t quite sure he heard me. He seemed a bit too distracted.

I smiled wider, down at him. And, slowly, stepped on his thigh, leaning my weight onto my heel. This was usually bad enough for a beginner to start to hurt. For some reason, though, he didn’t even flinch. I frowned. I let almost my whole weight on the heel in one go –and that he definitely felt.

“Fuck—!”

“That bad already, huh?” I giggled and raised my foot. “Baby, we’re just starting—”

“What, now I can’t even swear?” he snapped with a nervous grin. “You’re really being cruel…”

“Oh, I do try,” I smiled. I stepped on his thigh again, pressing a bit slower now. Without me saying anything, he did just try his best to grit his teeth and bear it, staring right up at me, without blinking once. I tilted my head. I pressed down harder. Chucky trembled just slightly. He was breaking. I went down harder, raised my chin, still staring him down.

“… Fuck –shit!”

I laughed and stepped off, dropping to my knees, sitting on his waist. “I win.”

“Congrats,” he muttered.

“Thank you,” I said with a smug smile, playfully drumming my fingers on his chest with my gloved hand, stroking his neck, his collarbone, his shoulders.

His expression softened a bit.

“Help me here a bit,” I said softly as I touched his lips. He shot me a puzzled look, but understood soon enough. He opened his mouth and bit the tip of my fingers. I smiled and pulled my hand off the glove. “Thanks, dear.”

He almost spit the glove to the side. I just had to laugh. There was something delightful in Chucky being restrained like that, he who always had restless hands, who didn’t like being still for long. Even then, just having to take the glove off his face, he was moving his hands in the handcuffs as if, if he just wriggled hard enough, he could get himself free. It was kind of cute.

I leaned down and touched noses. Chucky stretched his neck forward, trying to steal a kiss, but I moved back. He was so predictable. I knew fully well what he would try to pull.

“You really have a problem with patience, you know,” I said, pulling my other glove off and throwing it to the floor. Now, with both hands free, I ran my hands comfortably across his chest. “It’s kind of a pity.”

“Can you blame me?” he smiled.

I smiled back, slinking across him. “No, I guess I can’t.”

I reached down to his thigh, and felt the slight dent on his skin that was still there after I had stepped on it. I looked at it, curious to see whether it would bruise, and then back up to his face. If it still hurt him, it didn’t show. So, I went with the next best thing: I grabbed his thigh, just as he did with mine so many times, only that I had nails I could sink in. He let out a little groan.

“What, too sharp?”

He shook his head, swallowing a curse. “Just sharp enough.”

“Good.”

I dragged my nails up to his hip, scratching hard, feeling how he tensed under me. All of him was taut as a stretched rope, shifting all his weight forward.

“Tiff—"

“Hmm?"

Chucky opened his mouth, but couldn’t say anything. For once, he was speechless. I felt my pulse quickening. I had worked a miracle. I smiled and grabbed his dick. His jaw tensed as he gritted his teeth, with just a few muffled groans.

“You can be as loud as you want, baby,” I cooed in his ear. “I’m not gonna judge—”

“Fuck off, Tiff."

I grabbed him tighter. He let out something quite similar to a yelp.

“Then I’ll have to ask you politely, then,” I said, scratching it ever so slightly with my nails. “Could you please be a bit louder? Just for me. I’d like to hear you moan… It would help me, you know.”

“Jesus—”

“Won’t you give me a little help?” I said now, in a mocking plea.

He barely managed to smile. “If you want it so bad…”

It just had to be on his terms. He finally relaxed just a bit, as I kissed him deep, and he let out a small moan. But I wanted loud.

“Louder,” I ordered, and slapped his thigh. He groaned. “C’mon, darling, loosen up…"

“Make me.”

I slapped his thigh again, harder. “It’s such a boring game if you don’t play along,” I whined.

But I wanted to keep him guessing. I leaned down and kissed him, softer –to then surprise him with a little controlled bite on his lower lip. I tasted the tiniest bit of blood, and licked his lips with the tip of my tongue. He liked that. I sucked his bottom lip, tasting it more. He really liked that. I could tell by the rattling of the handcuffs.

“Such a pity you’re all… Tied up…” I grinned, moving away from him for a moment and kneeling again on the bed. He snorted a laugh. “… Bet you’d wanna do this yourself.”

I pulled down my panties, slowly, staring into his eyes, daring him to hold my gaze. He just couldn’t do it. Almost immediately he looked down, lips parting, as my hands went down my thighs, dragging the panties along.

“Bet you’d like to help.”

I sat on the space between his legs, and took the panties off from mine, off from my boots, and tossed them to the floor along with the forgotten gloves. I allowed him a moment to look down and enjoy it.

“Wouldn’t you?”

He chewed his upper lip. I smiled to myself, getting back on my knees, and sighed as I ran my hands over his arms.

“Such a pity—”

“Then let me loose, if it makes you so sad,” he said quickly, glancing back up to my face.

“So you wanna stop?”

“… No,” he said, after a few seconds of hesitation. “No. Keep going.”

We were really going soft this first time, only restraining him, barely doing anything else. The biting was usual for us. The scratching was a bit rarer, but I had nails, and I used them liberally. The slapping, that was new. But that was enough. Just to know I could do whatever I wanted to him, and that his pride would get too in the way for him to protest, was quite enough.

“Chucky…”

He looked up. I stroked his cheek, gently at first, before beginning to dig my nails onto his skin.

“Does it scare you, that I can do anything to you right now? Anything –and you can’t stop it?”

There was more metal clinking. I laughed. He really couldn’t get the whole being handcuffed thing through his head.

“I’m not scared.”

“You sure?”

I dragged my hand from his cheek to his throat. He stretched his neck, knowing what I had in mind. I sank my nails on his skin before opening my hand, stretching my fingers, and closing them around his neck.

“… You sure, Chucky?”

It was delightful, to see that little bit of fear in his eyes. I snickered, letting go. While unlacing the first few eyelets of the corset, I stared him down again. I wasn’t sure yet if he liked that half as much as I did –but God, it felt good to me. Focusing on his eyes, on his face, as I stood over him, was priceless. I just needed to hear the handcuffs rattling against the bedframe to know just how much he wanted to do things himself. Moving my hips forward and shifting my weight, and taking one deep breath, I slipped a hand down the front of the loosened top of the corset and grabbed my tit. Gazing at him, it was too easy to pretend it was his hand.

“Fuck…”

I smiled, closing my eyes for a moment, unlacing a few eyelets more. I felt his thighs moving from under my legs, trying to get closer. I sighed, freeing my chest from the corset, and heard a little shaky sigh coming from him as well.

“Tiff—”

Finally I smiled, opened my eyes and decided Chucky had enough to watch. I stretched my arms around his head and leaned down slowly, face to face. My chest barely grazed his. He looked down, his pulse racing, his mouth watering. I finally pressed myself against him, my chest against his, my hips against his, feeling him tensing up under me, and rested my head in the small of his neck. He gave me that nice moan I had been wanting so bad.

“Oh, hun—” I moaned in return.

He breathed against my ear. He wanted to say something –anything –he was desperate to have the last word –but his mind was blank. Me, I knew where his mind was.

I kissed his neck, softly at first, then biting down. He gave a little cry. I bit harder. I arched my back, making him focus on the pain. I couldn’t hear his breathing anymore –he was holding it. I pulled away ever so slowly, pulling the skin with my teeth. If I pressed just a little more, I could do some serious damage, I thought. I could rip the skin. I could rip out his throat like a wild dog. It took a lot of effort not to do it just out of sheer curiosity.

I let go. He breathed freely. I smiled and kissed again, just to keep him on edge. I went up, to his jaw, leaving little kisses all over it, while he pushed his head back, encouraging me to go ahead. I kissed and sucked and nibbled, thinking of all the marks I was gonna leave on him. My love. My Chucky.

I was getting wet already.

Finally, I threw my head back. He moved along with me, not wanting me to stop yet –but once he got to have a good look at me, he smiled again.

“God, look at you, babe…”

I grinned as I tilted my head to the side. “You haven’t had that view before, had you?”

He glanced over all of me again before fixing his gaze into my eyes. I ran my hand from his neck, to his chest, to his waist, to my thigh, up my waist and onto my chest. My other hand rested on his naked hip, holding him down and as still as I could.

“Easy…”

I stretched my hand towards his mouth. Right on cue, he opened up and sucked on two fingers hungrily, licking them, still staring into my eyes. He was finally doing as he was told without protesting. I pulled my wet fingers from between his lips and stroked my nipple, moaning quietly. He sighed. More rattling. I closed my eyes.

“You’re thinking that’s me…”

I smiled and nodded, biting my lip. My other hand travelled down and stroked, just barely, just over my pussy. He wouldn’t do that, though, I reminded myself. He always hurried a bit too much. He wasn’t a teaser. Not like that, at least.

“Tiff, you can’t fuck yourself like I can.”

I opened my eyes and looked down at him. Chucky was smiling his usual crooked grin. I don’t know why, but something about his tone just pushed me to it.

I slapped him, hard, right across the face. He looked at me in surprise, too shocked to even curse me out in response.

“Don’t get too cocky, dear,” I said coldly. Suddenly I wasn’t in the mood to smile. “Remember who’s handcuffed, and who’s on top.”

And, to my surprise, he grinned even wider. He gulped before talking back.

“Then act like it.”

A chill went down my spine. I slapped him again –he laughed –there were three thin red lines now crossing his cheek, where I had accidentally scratched him. I didn’t mean to do that. For a moment I was nervous, for just a couple of seconds, before he opened his mouth…

“You hit like a girl, Tiff—”

Again, harder. There was red dripping out his nose. He threw his head back and cackled, his eyes shining, and licked a bit of blood that had splattered over his lip.

“Now that’s more like it—”

I cupped his face, leaned down and kissed him hard. I couldn’t stop myself any longer. I grabbed his knee, still kissing him, and forced it higher, even though I could hear the metallic scraping of the handcuffs against the bedframe. I straddled his thigh. I grunted –it was warm where I had slapped him –and I began riding it.

Chucky let out a long groan. More rattling, more kicking, writhing furiously like a captured snake. He was tensing up to a dangerous degree.

“You’re gonna dislocate your shoulder, baby, if you keep at it,” I warned him gently, pushing him down with my hand on his chest. “And the pain of relocating it… It might be too much for one night.”

He let out a sudden laugh between gritted teeth.

“Stop squirming… Just relax,” I insisted, slowing down for a moment. “It’ll be easier.”

He closed his mouth, gazing at me with wide open eyes, and just nodded. There was a throbbing vein popping on his temple. But, slowly, through quiet breaths, he managed to loosen up a bit.

“… Good boy.”

I couldn’t have ever expected the result that would have on him. As soon as I said these words, Chucky got as flustered as a nun at a strip club.

“J-Jesus fuck, Tiff—” he managed to mumble.

My eyebrows shot right up. He never blushed before, even less this bright red. It looked like he was almost glowing. That, added to the blood smeared on his face, the scratches and the slapping…

“You really like this, huh, darling?” I hummed, grinding slow but steady on his thigh, just for him to get a taste of what was coming. “You look so cute like that…”

He whimpered, shutting his eyes tight, turning his face to his shoulder and hiding under his hair. The whimpering I liked, but not so much that he could still move enough to hide from me. Running my hand across his warm and reddened cheek, I got to his scalp, grabbed his hair and yanked it.

“Look at me,” I ordered. “Wasn’t that what you wanted?”

He still couldn’t say a word –just panted, just whined, like a little tortured animal. It was the loudest he had been in the year we had been together.

“You’re such a brat,” I said with a smile.

I reached for his dick. I barely had to graze it with the tip of my nails for it to stand on edge.

I giggled. “Well, that was quick—”

“Fuck—”

“Ah, ah, don’t you dare close your eyes,” I said, patting his cheek. “I want to see those baby blues.”

Whatever sort of release of tension he had managed, he got back in a second. Whatever, I thought. I liked watching him writhing regardless. I kept grinding against his thigh, harder and faster, pulling and stroking his dick along. Chucky groaned. It wasn’t easy for him to keep his eyes open.

“You like that, don’t you?”

Raising his sight to the ceiling, he took a deep breath and smiled, humming quietly. I stopped. He looked back at me with a sudden frown and a flash of anger in his eyes.

“Why d’you stop?”

“I asked you,” I repeated softly but firmly, leaning forward to him and brushing some hair off his face. “You like that?”

His expression softened a bit. “… Yes.”

“Does it feel good?”

“Yes…”

“Does it hurt?”

“Just… Just a little.”

“Want to keep going?”

He was so impatient. I could see him gathering all his strength not to curse me out. I just smiled, like he always did when he teased me. After a moment, he finally gritted his teeth and nodded.

“Use your words,” I ordered.

“I want to keep going,” he said quietly.

“I can’t hear you, hun.”

“I said, I want to keep going,” he repeated as he raised his voice.

“Then you better be good,” I said. “Tell me you’ll be good.”

Something had changed in the way he looked at me. There was still that flash of pure white-hot anger, which I had seen so many times before. There was something else there now, though. Chucky had been needy and desperate countless times –but never so clearly –it had never been so plainly reflected on his face. He was unraveling. The smug mask that was his face was cracking to reveal those little peeks I could only get a few times, when he couldn’t manage to keep himself quiet and composed, and showed his hunger. He knew he was good at making me tremble and moan and shriek (he knew and was proud of it), but too often he forgot I knew exactly what got him ticking, too. The big difference between us was that he was always too eager, too hurried to get to the good stuff. Me, I could be patient. I could undo him slowly, carefully, like unwrapping a present, or gutting a fish. If I wanted, I could have him begging for it.

Charles Lee Ray, begging. It was a lot less rare than it sounded.

“I’ll… Be good.”

I smiled at him, leaned down and let him have a tiny peck on the lips, as a reward. He leaned forward and managed to get me to linger on a kiss a moment longer. I giggled into his mouth.

“You said you’d be good…”

I reached for the nightstand and picked a condom, quickly ripped it open, and slipped it on him. He let out a delighted little breath of relief.

“We’re not done, baby,” I said. “Not yet.”

Pushing myself forward with my knees, I moved away from his thigh –he let out the tiniest, most adorable cry –and gripped his dick. He began breathing heavier, his chest and shoulders moving up and down with each pant. The rattling returned. I pushed it between my wet lips, spreading my thighs to the sides so he could see exactly what I was doing to him, how I was taking him in. But he wouldn’t get in yet. Not yet.

I leaned a little bit forward, resting my weight on my hand and my hand on his chest. He was hard, he was wanting, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction yet. I still wanted to have a little bit more fun.

“You really are fucking cruel—”

“But don’t you like it?” I asked with the biggest grin.

“God… I love it.”

I smiled, stroking his cheek. He leaned against my hand, pressing the side of his face to my palm. All I wanted was to look at him, to keep watching how he looked back up at me with that special type of affection that was so close to admiration. As if I was divine.

Just one more kiss, I told myself, breaking character. I leaned forward across the few inches that were still between us and kissed him long, and deep, and laughed against his mouth when his wrists rattled again, and I reached out for his right hand and intertwined our fingers. His hands were cold. Maybe there was little blood running through them. Whatever the case, Chucky didn’t complain. He kissed me back, and meanwhile, holding onto his hand, I moved ahead and began rocking my hips, pressing my pussy against his dick. Slowly at first, slow enough that, even with the condom on, he could feel how wet I was. But I was eager, probably just as eager as him, and it didn’t take long before I got moving faster, and by then I needed to throw my head back and take in a deep breath, and as much as I might have wanted to keep kissing him, we both knew this was coming.

I loved Chucky, of course I did, but I don’t think he ever looked as beautiful, as angelic as he did then: his face blushed, his mouth open and moaning and red from my smudged lipstick, his face shiny with sweat, his eyes tightly shut and his usually angry eyebrows, this time, raised and furrowed in needy despair. It was like falling in love with him all over again.

I was getting impatient, too.

Once I was more or less sure this was as far as we could both go while holding back, I finally reached behind me, turning around a little bit, like one would when parking a car. Feeling my way underneath my butt I grabbed his dick and, gently, pushed it up with my thumb and helped it find its way inside. I closed my eyes. Slowly, very slowly, I moved back down, feeling him sliding right in.

“Oh –that’s the spot,” I sighed with a smile and a shudder. “Mm…”

Chucky pressed the back of his head against the pillow, as I closed my thighs just a bit –clenching harder –letting myself fall on him, on my knees, against his legs. Then up again, slowly, before going down, and up, and down, savoring it. He looked like he was about to cry out. I grinned even bigger and closed my eyes again, wanting so badly to free his hands so he could hold me. Now, though, what could I do to make this one special? It was becoming hard to think clearly.

“Look up at me,” I ordered, my voice cracking.

He didn’t seem to hear me anymore. I slid my fingers through his hair, the top of his head, and yanked hard to call his attention.

“Look at me… Look at me, dammit.”

At last, he opened his eyes. They were glassy, and tired, but he smiled, and raised his chin, and looked at me. His eyes were so clear and light, I could see myself in them. I could see him seeing me. I had been wanting that so badly. In these eyes, I was glorious. I was the most beautiful creature that ever existed. I was wanted, and loved. I was finally seen.

I grinded harder against him, panting, faster, pressing down. Soon enough, I was moaning, and he was writhing, and the bed was creaking and we were at that point in which it was just a matter of time.

“Tiff—”

“Not yet…” I said between gritted teeth. My voice went higher as my heart beat faster and my mind was clouded to the point I could barely form a sentence. “J-just a little longer…”

“Tiff, please—”

“Just a little…”

He had never sounded like that before. God, it was so hard for me to pretend I wasn’t being torn to pieces by it. I understood how Chucky felt. Pressing himself to stay in character, to put on a front and adjust his mask. But it was slipping. And mine was next.

It was a game, like always. Who blinked first. Who laughed first. Who came first.

And he finally closed his eyes and came. The begging had lasted too little for my taste, but it always felt good to win. It was just a little bit longer before I came too, with a big smile, triumphant. And, as we both tried to breathe again, I noticed my arms trembling, and how Chucky himself was trembling ever so slightly. It definitely didn’t happen like that often. I knew I would love for it to happen often.

“Alright…”

I stood up on my wobbly knees and got off the bed. The corset, which at first was like a second skin, now felt too tight for comfort. I ripped it off me and dropped it to the side. Only then, once I managed to regulate my breathing, I decided I deserved a few seconds more in the afterglow, and, taking off the spiked collar, plopped right beside him on the mattress, lying my head on his left arm. Chucky’s face was still slightly blushed, red from my slapping, a mess of smudged lipstick (and I was probably not much better), and crossed by the bright red scratches I had left on him. I moved closer to examine them, and touched them with the tip of my finger, just to make sure I hadn’t hurt him too badly. It didn’t seem to sting anymore. It would heal quickly and nicely.

“Did you have fun?” I asked him.

Chucky smiled, his eyes closed. “… What d’you think?”

“I think you took it like a champ.”

I uncuffed him, carefully, and checked he didn’t get a cut or something.

“Tiff…” he mumbled, gazing up at me, still taking shaky breaths. “… I love you.”

I smiled at him. “I know, sweetface.”

And I kissed him once, sweetly, and snuggled against him, his warm cheek against my forehead, and with my ear against his heart, comforted in its steadying rhythm.

#childs play #chucky series #fanfiction

[cara-terra-pace]

Rich Neighbors Au Part 3: Bye Bye Miss Parisian Pie

Part 1 Part 2 The Gabrieling Procrastination Art Rich Neighbors Vine Animatic

-Oh my watermelon kids

-they are finally in America!!!

-First stop: Trash City!

-oops sorry NYC, sorry, they just sound the same when I say them out loud so I get them confused sometimes :)

-(I’m kidding New Yorkers don’t kill me please)

-okay, okay, getting off topic.

-so they’re in New York

-they’re just kind of wandering and they end up running into the Elmos.

-Mari was almost pulled into a hug with one and Felix had to drag her out of the way, saving her from the creep

-they then immediately booked it to a restaurant, hoping that would give them a bit of a reprieve.

-Hard Rock Cafe was the one they picked, Nino’s choice, obviously.

-Marinette gushed over the mini milkshakes for like ten minutes.

-someone ended up recognizing them. They took a picture, posted it on twitter and now BOOM

-every single one of their fans and customers know exactly where they are.

-but ANYWAY

-they’re in nyc, why not go to a broadway show?

-Six. They go to see Six. Don’t @ me, I like six and I thought Marinette and Nino would both enjoy it

-Mari is LIVING for their outfits.

-Nino is also loving every minute.

-They’re in the front and Nino is basically grinning the whole show but during Heart of Stone you can see him tear up a bit.

-Felix actually enjoys it. He shoves all the thoughts of historical inaccuracies out of his head and mostly just listens to Mari ramble about the outfits.

-Adrien vibes with Seymour honestly. And Parr. And basically all the queens.

-Nathalie likes the show too, mostly because it’s a nice break for her and the songs are pretty catchy too

-for Mega Six, Mari is filming and all the queens look directly into her camera

-they also take it and dance on stage with her phone, filming everything

-Mari is about to faint. Doesn’t matter that she’s technically famous, she is DEAD

-they don’t see her face when they take and give back the phone so when she comes backstage afterwards with the gang, at first they just recognize her hair and see her as the girl who was filming the Mega Six

-then they see her face and the costume designer is trying so hard not to squeal, oblivious to the fact that she’s doing the exact same thing.

-Mari is absolutely gushing to them about how great the show was

-She tells Parr that her song was what kept her going in school, since she’s listened to the Broadway and West End soundtracks about a billion times. (Pretend like the broadway one is already out time is a construct with rich people)

-side note, they post the pictures and video and suddenly A BUNCH of Six fans are now following Mari and now Mari is designing outfits inspired by the queens because AH THE COSTUMES ARE GORGEOUS I COULD TALK ABOUT THEM FOR DAYS I LOVE THEM SO MUCH

-fun fact, they are all wearing a “If Found, Please Return to Nathalie” shirt

-Felix is adorable and bought Mari some hair pins with watermelons because Watermelon Kids

-yes Nathalie has a shirt that says “I’m Nathalie”

-they actually did lose Adrien and these two girls were able to return him to Nathalie and they all took a pic with them and followed the two on Twitter

-they don’t know what else to do in New York, so they just make their way down to...

-New Jersey!

-Seaside Boardwalk!!

-they mostly stick to the arcades, Mari sticking to casino pier, and them getting fries and lemonade as a snack.

-they spend the night at the boardwalk, going on a few rides like Moby Dick, and Pirate’s Cove.

-they spend the night at a house of a friend of Tom Dupain’s and the next day, they go to the Ocean County mall because it was close to the house.

-Adrien complained a bit about going to “the least cool mall in the state” but stopped when he found a five below at the plaza.

-five below is his weakness.

-mall, fun, yada yada yada

-bath and body works is inside? Mari’s in heaven.

-Friendly’s for lunch! Ice cream all around my friends!

-that afternoon they go to laser tag and completely dominated.

-Twins on one team, Watermelon Kids on the other.

-for some reason (the reason is called because I said so) they decide to go down to another boardwalk further south.

-on the way they go to lobster house for lunch (lobster house is amazing I don’t even really like it for the food it’s just the VIBES. they are. immaculate.)

-they go to Wildwood and ohhh

-Nino and Adrien are living it up on the rides

-rollercoaster, log flume, submarine ride slash game thingy!

-they’re doing it all

-and Felix and Mari are being so cute and domestic winning each other things at the games

-and then the arcade, where Felix is hopeless at Skeeball and ends up slipping and Mari helps him up while trying not to laugh

-can I just say that I think Mari is probably really good at claw machines?

-she has some weird sort of luck when she’s playing and she’ll always end up winning a prize

-they spend the night at a cute little hotel and the next day they go mini golfing

-now this is where Felix for some reason shines

-Mari keeps losing her golf ball and having to go search for it

-Adrien and Nino are both mediocre at it.

-Adrien got a hole in one and he and Nino screamed and Nino picked him up and spun him around

-they also got ice cream at said mini golf place

-Khor’s is just...*chefs kiss*. They all got the orange and vanilla swirl because I said so and it’s a Khor’s classic

-Felix picks an Italian place for dinner that night. It’s called Little Italy and it’s pretty good.

-and, that’s a wrap for New Jersey! Next...

-alllll the way down to.... North Carolina!

-they spend only a day in North Carolina, but they do go to these caves.

-and also, this place with food that’s mainly made of... alligator?

-basically, it’s a rest day.

-Mari gets SUPER inspired and buys fabric to make a jacket inspired by the caves and honestly it’s gorgeous because she used not only the tan of the rocks, but the beautiful blues of the water.

-NATHALIE BREAK

-she’s so tired but she’s having so much fun with her boys!!!

-she actually feels pretty well rested a few days into the trip.

-Nathalie can’t help but fuss over the kids

-and coo at their cuteness when they do cute things

-She and Mari always share a room

-and the three boys share a room

-Nathalie helps Mari do complicated braids because she’s super good at those and Mari can only do a basic braid.

-next!

-South Carolina!

-specifically Charleston.

-ghost tout ghost tour ghost tour

-“and this is the building where a dude saw the ship that held all his crops sink. He then proceeded to-“

-it gets graphic in that moment and Marinette is having fun but also isn’t a fan of thinking of... uh, head not being on body???

-pirates!!! They go into this cave thingy and see piratey stuff, which is entertaining for everyone because it’s creepy in the cave, which Mari enjoys, PIRATES, which Adrino enjoys, and history for the grumpy Felix

-it’s quiet and everyone’s happy, which Nathalie is living for.

-they mostly just walk around looking at pretty things the next day

-rainbow row rainbow row

-Mari is so inspired that she buys a cheap sketchbook from target just so she can get all these ideas down

-she desperately wants to sew but she has to wait since they don’t have access to a sewing machine.

-so, they eat at a sandwich shop before hitting the road.

-they make a quick stop in Georgia, laugh at a sign that lists the marvel movies made in Georgia, then leave.

-(sorry Georgia. I’m sure you’re a very nice state but I’ve had limited interaction with the state besides passing through and sometimes stopping to eat lunch.)

-this is the thing they’re very excited for!!!

-Florida!

-specifically, Orlando

-that’s right, DISNEY WORLD.

-they are spending a whole week here.

-that’s right, 7 days of fun.

-day 1, animal kingdom because they get there in the afternoon and there isn’t as much they want to see in animal kingdom. They have loads of fun though and are planning on dropping by another day for the first half of the day.

-next day is Magic Kingdom

-they go on so many rides.

-small world is Adrien’s favorite ride, don’t @ me.

-Casey’s Corner is where they get lunch because Mari loves the aesthetic.

-MINNIE EARS ALL AROUND

-Marinette has a different one for every outfit

-Aristocats ears!!!

-she can’t explain why she loves it, she just DOES.

-for their last day (yeah this is out of order but who cares) they park hop, ending in magic kingdom and staying for the fireworks. Our favorite designer wears these lovely light up ears

-when they went to animal kingdom on the first day you KNOW Mari had some cute ears

-shh don’t tell the boys and Nathalie but Felix actually asked Mari to be his girlfriend when they were in Hollywood studios

-they walked off together, and sat on a bench somewhere sharing a snack

-our extra boy asked if she could be his girlfriend with matching beauty and the beast rings

-Mari said yes and she smiled soooo much.

-it’s kind of hard to explain everything so let’s just talk about the interesting stuff!!

-Marinette VIBES with the princesses oh my god

-TIANA INSPIRED OUTFIT PLEASE

-Disney is V fun but... sorry boys, it’s time for Marinette to get some sewing done! (Also I’m kind of bored of writing Disney this took several weeks bc I would write like a sentence a day lol)

-CALIFORNIA TIME

-they do go for one day in Disneyland but most of it’s spent going to get some inspiration for Mari.

-fabric stores fabric stores.

-that girl is sketching and coming up with ideas like her life DEPENDS ON IT

-inspiration explosion

-also some normal Knick knack shopping, so Mari gets some time away from staring down at her tablet and sketchbook.

-resting and just going to try all different sorts of normal, causal restaurants

-living the life

-also, Felix and Mari go on their first date. I say first date Very Loosely because it’s actually them sitting in Mari’s hotel room eating pizza and watching a movie and though they both consider it a date, they want to have a cute, cliche first date when they back home.

-Speaking of home...

-They are about to fly back to Paris when they get a message from Jess, one of the girls who found Adrien in NY.

-It was a message from her asking if she could check her latest tweet.

-it was a recording of Jess playing guitar, the song (an instrumental version of Miraculous but slightly modified) being wonderfully sweet. Aeon, the other girl, was also in the video, humming along to Jess. At the end, Jess dedicated the video the them and they both gushed about how nice they were in person and that both of them had waited until they had the arrangement ready before they posted it on social media.

-it thawed even Felix’s icy heart.

-and as they flew back to Paris, Nathalie couldn’t help but think of what a perfectly wonderful trip it had been. Minus... the accidents.

-But there’s no need to talk about that here.

-They reach Paris safe and sound, and Marinette takes a long, long nap right before she goes into creative mode and sews all the outfits she had sketched. Advantages of being rich, you know? You don’t have to worry about fabric price.

-While Mari was sewing, everyone else was also slowing down.

-And gearing up to go back to school

-*dramatic music*

-What will happen next? Even I have no idea!

.......

It’s almost like.... I exist??? Haha, but seriously, sorry for sort of going MIA??? I finally finished this, mostly by getting lazy towards the end. Yes, before you say it, I don’t hate NYC. It’s cool there, I just love making fun of it and the fact the special cam eout a few days ago is just pure irony. All of those links should work, so you can actually buy the Disney things I’m talking about! If they aren’t, please tell me so I can fix them. Next up is the Nathalie mentioned “Accidents”. That should take way less time because I’m going to go with the tried and true method of “Make stuff up and hope it makes sense”. I say should because you never know with me, I’m a mess ❤️❤️❤️

Tag list: @bigpicklebananatree @kris-pines04 @animegirlweeb @akana-sama @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @virgolioness @goblinwhoships @toastlover21 @buginetye

#rich neighbors au #miraculous ladybug #miraculous #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #chat noir #chloe bourgeois #alya cesaire #ladybug #nino lahiffe #carapace #felix agreste #watermelon kids #adrino #ml felinette #adrien and felix are twins #felix x marinette #Adrien x Nino #nathalie sancoeur #Nathalie is tired

[similianonyme]

KH3 Sora’s jacket construction process

Hi everyone! This is Tory, the most talkative one behind Simili Anonyme! Yeah, I know, we’ve both been preeeetty quiet lately. What can I say, we are busy people. Anyway, I made this thread on Twitter (@floracoquelicot) and I thought it could be cool to share this here as well since Tumblr makes it easier to find old posts, and this might be helpful!

So Salt (ShioOuji) and I did and art trade lately, which led me to the making of Sora’s jacket. I will detail the process as much as I can right here. Feel free to DM me if you need any other information :D

***

Teaser :

***

Costume : Sora (Kingdom Hearts III)

Time elapsed : ~65 hours (spread on 8 days)

Yelling and saying I will give up : none this time (yay!)

***

Step 1 : Gathering your references.

So you wanna cosplay Sora, right? Good! What you first need to do is getting to know the clothes you’re willing to make. I’m going to focus on the jacket here, and trust me, depending on which reference you’re using, it’s going to look different.

On the first picture, the jacket looks like it’s mostly made of leather/pleather. On the second one, it looks a lot more this the usual mysterious Nomura Fabric that I feel looks like a lot like neoprene. You can see two flaps with plaid fabric, going around the zipper ; this means they are sewn behind the zipper. The jacket is lines with black fabric, it has some pretty big pockets and golden buttons. Only one zipper, of a very respectable size, which is almost surprising, and the sleeves are bicolor. I must say, knowing Nomura’s love for ridiculous outfits, this one looks pretty normal.

The reference I used the most, though, is one from @art-antonioalvz giving a whole look at the jacket (as well as the trousers for y’all artists) https://art-antonioalvz.tumblr.com/post/159503686722/i-made-a-cosplay-reference-guide-for-soras-kh3 (even though I am crediting and linking it, if you feel like that’s just reposting feel free to message me and I’ll remove the pic, it just felt clearer for the explanations!)

This picture is incredibly helpful mostly because you get to see the sides, which is not something you’ll easily find in your reference pictures quest.

Got all your references ready? Let’s move onto stage 2!

-----

Step 2 : chosing your fabrics

I have worked with 9 different fabrics for this jacket. Here is how I broke down the jacket:

Main shape (black)

Pocket (grey)

Pocket bias tape (white)

Horizontal band (white)

Horizontal band -  Vertical band - Sleeves band (red)

Middle of sleeves (grey)

Plaid fabric (Black & Red)

Bias tape (grey)

Lining (black)

Picking the right shade might sometimes be a bit tricky, so make sure to get samples to compare them, as they might look different from what you see on screen!

Just look at all these shades and swatches!

Now, about the fabrics I used: the idea behind this jacket was that it wasn’t made to be a costume, but something to be worn IRL. So instead of trying to be completely accurate with my fabrics, I picked something more casual, comfy, warm, that would feel great to wear. And who doesn’t love a good jersey? (I sure do). Jersey is stretchy, thick, and not too hard to use. Make sure you own some Stretch needles for your sewing machine though!

The red, black and sleeve grey fabrics are jersey fabric. I did not keep track of where I bought them, but they are pretty thick with a fluffy, plushy side on the wrong side. My white bias tape is some leftover stretch bias tape I bought at my local fabric store. The white fabric I used for the bottom line is a very thick neoprene fabric. The pocket fabric is some dark grey neoprene. The lining is a thin black cotton, really soft on the skin. The plaid fabric is something I designed using Spoonflower. You can get it here(click!) if you’d like. Add 6 buttons of your liking (I used bronze snaps, will explain later why), a silver/grey/black zipper, and you’re good to go!

Okay, so now we’ve know what we want and we know what we’ll be using to make it. What are we missing now?

---

Step 3 : The pattern

There are different ways to use a pattern for a costume.

You might never use patterns. If you are really comfortable with draping and are used to understand and draw shapes just by looking at them, this step might be useless for you and you can jump to step 4.

You can make patterns based on clothes you own. Turn the outfit inside out and draw the shape of each piece on paper, following the seams. Don’t forget about the seam allowance! You will need to cut bigger pieces to sew along the lines.

You can use pre-made patterns. That’s the option I chose. I’m really bad with sleeves and not really used to hoods, so I decided to buy a pattern made for this costume.

Here’s the one I got.

This pattern was made by Anh Cosplay, and you can buy it here(clic). It includes a PDF for the jacket and the trousers in different sizes, explanations on how to sew them, costs $9 and is super helpful. Anh also sells many other pattern on her shop so make sure to have a look!

And now we’re good to go!

---

Step 4 : Making the costume.

Okay, now everyone works differently. I will explain how I worked, but by no means this is the best or the only way.

The first thing I did was, using the pattern, making the lining. Some people like to make mockups first with a cheaper fabric to make sure the size is right. That’s somehow what I did with my lining - I had a lot of that cotton and I could redo things if I didn’t like them.

I cut the pieces, pinned them, tried it on, stitched them together with some lose stitches, tried it on again, readjusted a few things until I was satisfied, and then sewed them together. And tried it on. Never enough checking that everything’s fine!

Alright! Now that we have our jacket lining done, it is time to work on the outside. The process is the exact same, and I would suggest following the pattern instruction if you bought it.

As I said, trying things on will help make decisions. What you can see here was my first try for the plaid, which I didn’t like very much. I also felt like the flaps from Anh’s pattern were too big and didn’t fit the proportions I wanted to achieve. This is why I resulted to design my own fabric, using Spoonflower.

Designing isn’t always right from the first time, and it actually took me a few tries to get what I wanted ;)

As I mentioned before, this one is made for casual wear. Which means I wanted it as convenient as possible. There are many options for the buttons (that, while not being oversized, are still kind of big), but I went for snaps for a practical reason : that way, you can fold the flaps inside the jacket and can zip the jacket aaaall the way up!

When the flaps are inside the jacket, you can zip it up. Convenient when you’re cold!

Make sure to sew the pockets and the buttons-snaps-whatever before adding the lining! Same thing if you want to add inner pockets or anything you’d like ; once the lining and the outside are sewn together, there is no going back. (I mean, there is, but it’s a hassle)

The flaps are sandwiched between the zipper and the lining. From the picture above, you have your layers like this : Red-Zipper-Flaps-Lining.

I handsewed a few pieces :

Stitching the top (white) of the pockets to the black fabric, and the bottom red line to the lining.

Sora has some decorative horizontal stitching on some pieces (the white one and the red ones) but I didn’t trust myself to get lines straight enough to look good, so I didn’t do them.

And voilà!

We have a lovely jacket, a bit heavy (it is just under 900g) but oh so comfy. I cannot wait so send it out to the Saltdom where I know it will be loved and well taken care of <3

I hope this was at least a bit interesting! My DMs are always open if needed. Now it is time for me to fall back into Oblivion! (which is apparently where I live, housemates are a bit weird but they’re okay)

(and if you ever wanna see more cosplays by me, you can find me on Facebook as Tory Cosplay(click!) :DDD )

#cosplay #kingdom hearts #sora #jacket #diy #tutorial #sewing #clothing #kh3

[gloriaglamont]

Anyone who knows me knows that I am a planner. I plan weekly menus before I go to the grocery store. I map out an entire two-week road trip months in advance ensuring that all hotels are booked for the right days and I know the precise driving time between stops. I write outlines for everything I write, and writing is what I do in my other life (in this one, too, you might well respond – I don’t outline blog posts, though, which is probably obvious!).

To be clear, when I started my writing career many years ago, I learned very quickly that to sell a non-fiction book to a publisher, I’d need to learn to write a book proposal which is nothing short of a complete outline among a lot of other stuff. So, I learned the process of book proposal writing well enough to sell seven or eight books that way. So, when it comes to my sewing and design life, I pretty much take that same approach.

Remember my cruise collection? That started with an actual inspiration board, moved on to sketches, then I created original patterns, chose fabrics planned for specific projects (no fabric hoarding here). My Little Black Dress project? It progressed the same way as did my three Little French Jackets. So, I have no reason to think that much of my work will be on the fly. Well, you know what they say: “The best laid plans…” Let me back up a bit.

When I returned to fashion design and sewing a few years ago, much had changed in that world. For years my sewing machine collected dust between jean hemming and costume sewing projects. (I’m happy to say that the costume sewing for children’s theatre actually resulted in a child who grew up to be successful in the performing arts.) Then, the muse struck and I finally had the time to devote to a return to something I had loved as a young adult. But, as I mentioned, there were many new things.

This is the one I have. I use it infrequently. 

First there was the rotary cutter. When I first saw one, I thought, Doesn’t anyone use shears anymore? I soon learned that, yes, shears are the way to go on most projects for me. I use a rotary cutter mostly for interfacing and muslin cutting. Otherwise, they’re not my thing – dreadful on silk, wool, bouclé etc. Then there were the patterns.

I had never before heard that McCall’s, Vogue, Butterick and Simplicity were now referred to as “the big four” and not in a good way. What was that all about, I thought? This led me to learn about the new “indie” pattern companies. That sounds very democratic, doesn’t it? What I found was an avalanche of half-baked patterns, generally for tent-like bags that would fit everyone and no one – I’ll leave the rest of that rant for another day to equalize out all those rants from sewers who seem to dislike the “big four” with a passion. I happen to think they do very good work. But that’s for another day. Anyway, I finally found a legitimate one or two whose patterns interested me. Style Arc was one.

An Australian company, Style Arc’s sketches were what really drew me in. And I loved the fact that not all of their patterns are for knits which means that they really do have to know how to create something that fits. That being said, I decided to try one that was for a knit first.

What’s not to love about this sketch? Well, I should have look more closely at the version on the right. 

The other thing that had changed was that not all patterns came in little envelopes anymore. Some of them were pdf downloads. Who knew? Well, just about everyone but me! Everyone has to have a first time, though, don’t they?

Style Arc produces both hard copy patterns and pdf’s. I decided to try my first pdf and my first indie pattern all in one fell swoop.

I used to have a cardigan sweater I loved so much it was actually worn out by the time I finished with it. t hadn’t been expensive, either, but was black (a must for a sweater that will serve me over the long term) and instead of buttons, it had a half-waist tie. It looked terrific with collared shirts, T-shirts, just everything.  It had a lot more style than the average cardigan. So, when I saw Style Arc’s Terry Tie Cardigan pattern, I was in.

I downloaded it and printed it out. Then, of course, I proceeded to tape it all together, as one must. Interesting. I cut out the pattern pieces and looked for some fabric.

Wouldn’t you think that something called “sweater knit” would be great? I did. But…well, stay with me.

There were just so many things wrong with the pattern in my view. It has these shoulder tucks—too many of them and way too small for the fabric I’d chosen. When I went back to Pattern Review to look at other people’s versions, they were all in flimsy jersey, so the tucks worked – but they were hideous. They were shapeless columns of jersey even with the belt tied. If I had looked at them first (lesson learned) I would never have chosen the pattern. But onward…

Okay, the first problem was the tucks, as I mentioned. Then, there was too much overlap at the front – and neither the centre front nor the waistline was marked by the way, a real problem with trying to get it to fit properly. The ties were too close to the centre front resulting in an odd look which was very evident on the ones done by others as I found out. Oh, and the seam allowances: you have to be very careful not to assume that they are standard 5/8 inch. They are not. The sleeves were too long (of course, this is an easy fix, but do women really look like orangutans?), leading me to think the sketch is quite misleading. So, what to do?

  Back to the drawing board I go to try to rescue the project.

First, redraw those shoulders without the tucks.

Then, move the belt so that it is farther away from the centre front (which I had to find).

Then, as I went to sew it, I realized that the belt was going to be butt ugly so I ditched it.

Ditched the belt and took in the waist darts, extending them to the hem for a better fit.

Put it on Gloria junior, and began to redesign it on the fly.

Actually, I really enjoyed the “semi-draping” process. I redrew the pattern and it no longer resembles the original in any way.

It’s not at all what I had originally envisioned, but I’ll love it on cold days next winter. I left all the edges serged only. 

What I learned about myself is that designing on the fly might not be such a bad approach, and that I think I would enjoy learning draping as a design process.

I love it when I learn something from every project!

Designing on the fly…or how the first pdf pattern I ever used morphed into a GG Collection original #amsewing #indiepatterns #StyleArc #diystyle Anyone who knows me knows that I am a planner. I plan weekly menus before I go to the grocery store.

#design #indie patterns #mistakes #patterns #pdf pattern #planning #sewing #Style Arc #Terry Tie Cardigan

[rpf-bat]

I Miss You So Far

Pairing: Mikey Way x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Angst

Summary: It’s Thanksgiving 2004, and you’re spending it with your boyfriend, Mikey, and his family at their home in New Jersey. But, why is Mikey crying?

A/N: Happy Thanksgiving 2017 to all my American followers!

You were helping Gerard set the Thanksgiving table when you heard Mikey in the kitchen, screaming. “Fuck,” your brother-in-law swore. “Did he burn himself taking the pie out of the oven or something?” “I’ll go see what’s wrong,” you frowned, and stepped into the Way family’s kitchen. Mikey was scowling at a blackened pumpkin pie. “It’s burnt!” he cried, slamming his fist into the linoleum counter. “Completely fucking burnt!” “It’s ok, babe,” you said soothingly, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Stop & Shop is open on Thanksgiving Day, we can just drive down there and pick up a pie.” “You don’t understand,” Mikey protested, and you were surprised to see that, behind his glasses, his eyes were wet. “She always did this with me. It’s her recipe. I...I don’t know how to do it right without her here.” “Without who?” you asked. “Grandma,” Mikey explained sadly.

You realized he was talking about his mother’s mother, Elena Lee Rush - better known as Helena. She’d died some months before, and Mikey and his band had dedicated their new album, Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge, to her. “This is the first Thanksgiving without her,” Mikey sobbed. “I’ve been making pumpkin pie with her every year since I was six years old. She...she always called me her little helper.” “Aww, I’m sure you were a big help,” you said softly. “Not when it fucking mattered,” Mikey said guiltily. “Gee and I, we were on tour, supporting Bullets. We didn’t even know she was sick. We should’ve been here, we should’ve...” “There was nothing you could have done, Mikey,” you reminded him. “And she would’ve wanted you to be out there performing, anyway. You know she always supported your music.” “You should’ve seen her, Y/N,” Mikey chuckled. “An old lady, with her white hair and her spectacles, surrounded by all these punk kids, watching My Chemical Romance perform at Maxwell’s.” You couldn’t help but smile at this strange image. “She might not have totally got the genre,” Mikey admitted, “but, God, Y/N, she had the biggest smile on her face. She looked so proud of me and Gerard.” “I’m sure she was,” you assured him. “Gerard was just telling me in the dining room about how, when he was a little kid, she sewed him a Peter Pan costume by hand for the school play.” “You know what? I was in a play that year, too,” Mikey recalled. “A Thanksgiving one.” “Really?” you raised an eyebrow. “I wasn’t cool like Gerard,” Mikey shrugged. “I didn’t get the lead role, or anything. I was just....Pilgrim #3. But she put so much work into my Pilgrim costume. It looked better than anyone else’s. And she was there in the front row that night to support me. I had stage fright - I STILL get stage fright, all the time, unless I have a couple beers before I go onstage - but when she smiled at me, I knew I was gonna be ok.” “Helena loved you,” you told Mikey, pulling him into your arms. “She’ll always love you and be proud of you, pie or no pie.” “I guess you’re right,” Mikey said, wiping his eyes on the sleeve of his striped sweater. “Thank you, Y/N. You made me feel a lot better.” “Anytime, babe,” you smiled, ruffling his hair and making his hat lop sideways. “And Happy Thanksgiving.”

#mikey way x reader #mikey way imagine #thanksgiving #sorry this is so short #i wrote it during my 30 minute break at work

[20dollarlolita]

What are some uncommon fabric choices (I'm assuming things like twill, plaid, polyester...) and are there any situations/subsets of lolita they're good for?

BrI was going to get some pictures today at work, but scheduling got weird and I didn’t have a chance to hang around the store after my shift.

But really quickly, we have to talk about what a piece of bull the English language is when it comes to fabric. I’m about to get on a soapbox, so I’m putting it in a blockquote so that you can skip it more easily.

Technically, fiber type and weave type sometimes combined with work together to make a fabric type. Cotton fiber plus twill weave plus thin white warp and thicker, blue-dyed filling makes denim~! Ideally, fabric would be easy like that.

But we don’t do that. In quilting “cotton” isn’t always 100% cotton and many fabrics that ARE 100% cotton aren’t “quilting cotton.” We use “nylon” and “polyester,” to describe types of fabric when they’re actually just a description of fiber type. We have “twill” (weave type), and “wool” (fiber type) and then we have categories of fabric that don’t even make any sense, like “lining fabric,” and “suiting,” which contain fabrics with such an extremely diverse selections of qualities that you can’t even begin to figure out what makes a “lining” or a “suiting.” And THEN there’s things that SHOULD be one thing, but aren’t. Satin weave=satin, right? Not if it’s cotton, then it’s sateen. If you make organza out of cotton or out of certain kinds of polyester, it’s not organza, it’s organdy. Crinoline is crinoline unless it’s crinoline net and crushed velvet isn’t made of velvet AND SO ON and if the series of z’s will always stay close to Z and never trend away, that fabric is in the who knows because it’s impossible to classify fabrics! I can make it worse, too, because many of the classifications of fabric that we’re used to calling them are MADE UP BY CRAFT STORES. There’s two really big major fabric store chains across the USA and I happily work for the one that hasn’t been supporting ISIS by illegally purchasing and smuggling antiques for the past three years and both of them like to make fabric collections that people think of as fabric type. “Nursery,” and “novelty cotton,” and “Casa satin,” or “sportswear fabric,” and “plush fur,” vs “faux fur,” or “minky” or “rayon” are all words where someone knows what you’re talking about when you say them (usually) but aren’t actually providing enough information to properly describe the fabric. This lack of standardized terminology is one of the reasons why people are so afraid to shop for fabric online. A lot of people say, “I have to feel the fabric to know what it is and if it’ll work for my project,” but what they mean is, “a website listing does not give me enough information to know what fabric I’m buying,” and that is absolutely a symptom of us being TERRIBLE at consistently and descriptively buying fabric.

So, fabrics that aren’t used very often in lolita, off the top of my head and based on things I saw at work today (Joann-specific names and name brands in quotes):

Ripstop nylon/windbreaker

Taffeta

Shiny satins (especially thin satins like “costume satin”)

“Minky”/ultrafluffy fleece/”Sew Lush”

Fleece (knitted/”Blizzard” style, not sherpa/fake lambskin)

Leather, pleather, suede, microsuede

Burlap

Canvas

Denim

Plaid flannel shirtings

Camouflage

High-denier luggage fabric

Printed jerseys

Marine vinyl

Holographic fabrics

Latex/latex-coated

Quilted fabrics

Crushed velvet

Brocade

Large-weave fabrics (linen-look home decor fabrics)

drapey knits (rayon blends, “jet set”)

Of those, I’d classify the fabrics that will probably never work for lolita into two groups: fabrics that won’t work because they have strong connotations with ideas that are very against the lolita aesthetic, and fabrics that have traits that make them unable to undergo the fabric manipulations necessary to make lolita garments. To put that less pretentiously, it’s fabrics that don’t work for lolita because they bring to minds things that aren’t lolita, and fabrics that don’t work for lolita because they physically cannot handle being made into lolita.

Ones that don’t feel lolita:

Latex (bondage gear. It might work for ero lolita, but ero lolita is a subgenre that is different enough from mainstream lolita that I don’t want to count it on this list)

Camo (Hunting lolita? Redneck lolita?)

Fleece and minky (Associated with babies and casual wear and sleepwear. Fleece might be good for lolita-inspired jammies and room wear)

Burlap (Farmer lolita?)

Canvas (utility fabric associated with usable function, not with fashion)

Denim (connected to blue-jeans, the ultimate in extremely casual wear)

Jet set (Spirit Halloween possibly-racist costume that definitely doesn’t come in plus-size lolita?)

Fabrics that probably can’t do lolita:

Marine vinyl, leather, luggage fabric: probably can’t take the gathering, pleating, and draping that lolita skirts do, and can’t take the bending and twisting and repeated motion that other garments do, don’t look attractive when they move or are twisted and bent

Holographic fabrics: No good way to make them not shiny. Many are printed on or applied to a 4-way stretch fabric that can’t hold its own weight without distorting. 

Latex: sewing (actually, mostly gluing) with latex fabrics is a lot more like being a balloon-twisting clown than a seamstress

Large-weave fabrics: A lot of people don’t believe me when I say this, but fabrics that work really well as curtains or stretched against and backed with foam or a pillow do not always work well as garments. You ever got caught against something rough like a zipper and gotten a snag in your jacket? Want to have that happen ALL THE TIME? Then this is your fabric.

Crushed velvet: Irregularly-colored or irregularly-textured fabrics where the irregularly is spread through the fabric at random do not work well with lolita. I’m biased in that I hate crushed velvet with a passion, but it also objectively doesn’t work with lolita.

Ripstop/windbreaker: There’s something about the shiny texture and the chunky drape and the thinness of the fabric that just doesn’t work. It also has a very distinct way of twisting and folding that doesn’t look like any other fabric, which makes it identifiable at a distance as ripstop. Also, camping-tent lolita? Inflatable snowman on someone’s lawn at christmas lolita?

And this leaves with fabrics on my list that do work with lolita, but aren’t ones you’d expect to work with lolita. What we’re left with from my list is taffeta/shiny satins, leather/fake leather, quilted fabric, flannel shirtings, printed jerseys, drapey knits, and brocade.

Shiny Satins:When we think of bad lolita, a lot of us jump to the shiny satins in the costume section. But they have their uses. This is my Fairy Princess JSK, made by Angelic Pretty. AP are one of the major, capital B Brands. They were one of the first Brands and they still drive our fashion forward. AP KNOWS lolita.

But what happens when we turn it inside-out and pin the lining out of the way?

GASP. SHOCK. HORROR. CAN IT BE‽‽‽(This isn’t the lining. This is the actual outer fabric of the garment)

So, there you go, shiny, thin, “costume” satin used by a major brand in a higher-than-average priced piece. How did they do it?

Well, there’s a couple of things that are important to note. First of all, they’re using the back side of the satin. Brands sometimes list this as “backsatin” like it is its own kind of fabric, but it’s just the backside of satin. Using the back of satin gives you the drape of the satin and the subtle luster of the shiny threads, but it stops the light from reflecting off the fabric in big, defined lines. One of the main reasons why we don’t use shiny satin is that it reflects the light in big, irregular patches, and the light reflects as a different color. This gives us what is called “fabric that is two colors or textures that are spaced irregularly throughout the garment,” which is just a non-lolita look.

The other reason they made it work is that they gave the dress a sheer overlay, which further breaks up the shine and gives it the consistent color scheme we expect from lolita. The overlay also adds structure to the softer fabric of the satin.

The satin is important to this piece, because it balances out the harsher parts of the organza overlay, and helps the piece find balance.

Leather, fake leather, and quilted fabrics:These all fall into the same category of fabrics that make great outerwear and aren’t very good for lolita outside of that. 

Quilted fabrics tend to move in a way similar to thicker wool tweeds (depending on the shell used and the quilting pattern), so they are a cheaper alternative for coats. Long coats can take a lot of fabric, especially ones that have to accommodate lolita skirts, so they’re worth considering.

You’re going to want to find a fabric with small quilt lines (these are about 1″ tall and 1/2″ wide. Pictures are hard at scale). These are diamonds, but you can also find small hexagons.

You will want to avoid fabric with long, straight lines. They look pretty function-over-fashion, and make a coat that moves more like a windbreaker and less like a wool outerwear.

Leather and some fake leathers look good on tailored leather jackets, and leather or denim jackets are pretty common in punk lolita. Avoid any suede that does the “big irregular patches of different colors” thingy.

Flannel shirtings: Flannel shirtings can easily make lumberjack lolita, if you’re not careful. While I think lumberjack lolita has the potential to be a sub-sub-sub-sub-substyle of lolita, it’s going to take some careful work to get it to function.

Flannel shirtings are usually made with a twill weave, unlike quilting flannel, which makes them very soft and with a nice drape.

Plaid and gingham fabrics are fabrics that are used in lolita very often. Semi-fluffy fabrics do not. Because of this, you need to make sure that you’re buying the right kind of flannel (the least fluffy) and use it in a way where it won’t experience a lot of friction and pill up. In the end, if it looks good, you don’t need to worry about it being 100% traditional. That’s part of what makes budget lolita work.

Printed Jerseys:Joann has a line called Doodles, and it’s quilt-style prints printed on a jersey fabric.

While most cutsews are made with one large print or motif in the center, a printed jersey with a subtle enough print(more subtle than this one) could definitely make a cute cutsew.

Drapey knits:

They can’t be used for skirts. If they’re too drapey, they can’t be used for cardigans, but there’s a certain kind that works well. They are also usable in hair accessories and bags if they’re backed with a sturdy enough fabric. They make nice shawls and wraps and scarves, so if you have a coord that needs one, go for it.

Out of everything on this list, these are probably the ones that are hardest to do in a way that is lolitable.

Brocade:I’m going to count jacquard as brocade, since they’re similar. Jacquard is used in a lot of classical pieces, and it’s a nice way to add texture to a single color piece while still keeping it single color. Jacquard has the nice texture of being irregularly colored, but being irregularly colored in an even and regular pattern, so it works now.

Brocades are well known in wa-lolita, if you’re brave enough to attempt it. A brocade that is both not too busy and not to brightly colored can work in the same way a jacquard fabric works,

Brocade’s also very nice for pieces heavily inspired by a specific period in history. It has a long history of being proper and refined and upper class, which some lolita substyles desire.

It’s got a shiny appearance, so find one that isn’t too shiny. It takes restraint to buy the right kind of pattern and to use it well in your design.

So, there you go. I got kind of long and detailed there, so sorry that it’s a lot to read.

This was a super-fun ask to answer, so if you have questions like this, please send them in!

#long post #20dollarlolita #fabric #sewing #lolita #lolita fashion #sewing help #lolita tips #classical lolita #pirate lolita #ita #ask #anonymous

[spaceorphan18]

Finding Kurt Hummel: A Katy or a Gaga

Masterpost

5x04: A Katy or a Gaga

It’s about this time that Glee decided - I just don’t give a fuck anymore.  And that’s fine by me because I actually love these super cracky episodes of season 5.  And underneath all the crazy jokes, there’s a bit of heart and a bit deeper story, you just have to go looking.  Now - I will say that it’s silly to me to compare Katys and Gagas, because the two artists aren’t all that different.  I’d say the two of them vs Adele is probably a more striking difference in presentation.  But as the end of the episode states - who cares about any of it.  It’s arbitrary anyway.  Just be true to whatever your weird self brings forth.  

That One Time Kurt Hummel Started a Band

So, we all thought the rumors were a joke until we actually saw the episode.  That’s right, Kurt Hummel decided to start his own Madonna cover band! And then he decided one dude singing Madonna was a bit limited, so he decided to open it up to letting girls in - which makes it easy as he has three girls ready and available.  Or - two and a half, as Rachel isn’t really ready to do much more than focus on her Funny Girl Broadway stint.  (Why she isn’t focusing all of her attention on that is beyond me, but this isn’t about Rachel.) 

So, let’s break this down.  Is Kurt starting a band really out of nowhere?  No, I don’t really think so.  I mean it is mentioned at the end of Tina in the Sky with Diamonds, lol.  But really - he tells Rachel that she shouldn’t just let life pass you by, and later on, he talks about attempting to do something a little more mainstream so to get better recognition.  So I think this is Kurt deciding - hey, life is too short, I need to get myself out there and seen, and I’d like to perform more.  Why not start something myself and make something out of it.  

(I have to wonder if this stems a little in part because Chris wouldn’t let the writers let Kurt be a writer (even if Kurt becomes a little bit of a writer.))  

Anyway - he is all enthusiasm and joy as he talks Santana, Dani, and Rachel into it.  But, it’s funny, he’s still playing it a little safe asking them to join.  Would he have really taken the risk if he didn’t have three singers in his back pocket to join him? I don’t know...   

Meanwhile - let’s take a quick second and talk about Adam.  It’s a throwaway line, but one that does pack a bit into it.  See - I’m still guessing that Adam was still thinking things were just fine, if going really slowly.  And then Kurt goes away for spring break and comes back engaged to his ex.  I’m not surprised that Adam kicked him out of the Apples.  

So - Dani is totally in (bummer they never do anything with her).  Santana wants partial control, which Kurt is okay with (for the most part).  Rachel won’t be joining just yet - nor do I blame the girl.  And Kurt’s one happy kitty thinking this whole thing is in the bag.  

Enter Starchild, Stage Left

If this still doesn’t sum up Kurt and Santana’s relationship - I don’t know what would. 

Kurt’s scrapped together all of his tip money to rent out NYADA’s one room to hold band auditions.  (At this point, my main issue with NYC stuff is that it’s claustrophobic.  They have two sets. I mean they have the diner now, and new cast members help but sometimes it feels stifling.)  Anyway - I’m bypassing the implausibility that in all of New York /no one/ shows up to this indy band audition.  I mean - c’mon, you’ve seen American Idol and all the crazies that show up just to get ten seconds of fame.  

Now that I think of it, this whole American Idol-ish set up is purposeful, most likely, as Adam Lambert started there.  And there’s your real reason for Kurt’s band, folks.  

Anyway...  Santana wants to name the band The Apocalypsticks.  And Kurt’s having none of that.  Can you say -- this kid likes control? 

Man - all of Kurt’s facial expressions in this scene are priceless.  

So - we have our introduction to Adam Lambert’s Elliott “Starchild” Gilbert.  And he out Kurt Hummel’s Kurt in just about every way.  Which is probably why Kurt isn’t even at all open to the possibility.  

I mean, okay.  So Elliott comes in, looking crazy fab, in a costume he designed himself, and exudes confidence while still retaining an incredibly kind demeanor.  But on top of that, here’s a guy whose presence is noted the moment he walks in the room.  And Kurt’s still screaming to be heard.  Kurt thinks “competition” right off the bat, and dismisses Elliott before really even giving him a chance.  Hence the barbs about the clothes, and the disturbed looks throughout the performance.  

I don’t even like this song - and still love this performance.  Adam Lambert is amazing.  

Santana freaking loves it.  Kurt is all -- nope, and a bit of -- what is even going on.  It’s kind of hilarious to me that as much as Kurt has always considered himself as “out there” when he’s face with actual “out there” he’s a bit conservative about his ideals.  Kurt dismisses Elliott without even thinking about it (not even worrying about Santana’s threats to bitch slap him) on the basis that Elliot, and his look, is too much.  But the underlying thing is that this band is about Kurt - and Kurt doesn’t want to be overshadowed by someone who not only shines as a performer, but has the possibility of completely outshining him. And Kurt’s insecurities get the best of him. 

Role Reversal 

Okay, so I really love this scene.  Why? because it’s flipped from every other Hummelberry scene that we usually get.  Kurt’s the one having a crisis of character and Rachel is the one to help doing the emotional lifting.  Was that so hard show? Was it? Here’s a Hummelberry I can get behind.  

But SO? Isn’t it hypocritical that you only like Hummelberry when it’s in Kurt’s favor? YUP!  Actually - I like Hummelberry fine, it just got tedious as a Kurt fan watching every plot line start with a Kurt story and end with a Rachel story and/or Kurt playing the “gay best friend” there to support Rachel.  It’s nice that they give Kurt an actual story line and let Rachel play the supporting role.  

Anyway.  Rachel’s heard from Santana that Kurt doesn’t want to share the “lavender lime light” with Elliott.  Rachel calls him out on possibly being jealous or wanting the band’s attention all to himself.  Kurt counters - saying that’s not really what it is (though that is a part of it), but more so that he wants to try to be something that fits in, that’s mainstream, that is easily accessible.  And Elliott, and all his Elliott glory, would not work for that.  

It’s interesting that this pulls on some threads from season 3 - mostly that Kurt feels like he can’t appeal to a mass demographic and because of that it’ll hold him back.  And it’s such a fascinating thing because when you look at it from a Doylist POV - this quickly, gay character is not only now a leading role (and the leading male role), but also lead role in a romance story. Oh Kurt - if you could only view your life like the rest of us can. 

I think also, interestingly, this is where the show itself decides to stop being the mainstream thing that everyone wanted it to be (or that it was in the beginning) and becomes the niche, cult show.  Own it Glee.  Own it.  

Anyway, Kurt laments, however, that all of this is hard.  Interestingly, he’s looking to the future, wanting the stability, and that there’s nothing wrong with wanting to take the easy way if possible.  It’s interesting because I think both Finn’s death and being engaged play a role in all of this.  I mean Kurt thinking about his future, and how he’s going to make it out there, and that you only live once - do what you can to secure your future stability is written all over it.  

Well, Rachel says what I’m thinking -- being different is always hard, but it’s better to be you, kiddo.   

Or -- in the language that this episode is going for -- Kurt’s a Gaga trying to be a Katy so he can be as successful as his friends because he thinks they’re Katys (even though they’re both Gagas.  Hm.) - but the fact that he is a Gaga frustrates him because he thinks he’s too specific and individual and niche to ever have success in a mainstream way.  But Rachel tells him that being a Gaga is awesome, and if he isn’t true to his Gaga self, then he’s never really gonna get anywhere.  And, maybe joining up with other Gagas instead of pushing them away isn’t such a bad thing.  (lol this paragraph)

Oh - and I should mention, because if I don’t someone will yell at me - Kurt’s sewing his own clothes.  Yup, skill Kurt Hummel has probably always had - in action.  Nice touch, Glee. 

On an Intermission

So - let’s talk about Kurt as a waiter.  Um.  He’s not very good at it, lol.  Oh Kurt - you should take a page out of Cooper Anderson’s book, and use serving as an opportunity to try out new things, like accents, and different personalities.  It’ll help you get through the day more -- promise.  

Anyway - after a lot of soul searching, Kurt decides that Rachel might be right, and Elliott would be helpful to his band instead of harmful.  And through TV magic, and Elliott desperately needing to be in Kurt’s band to fulfill his own bucket-list, Elliot’s there in the diner, toned down, and ready to play by Kurt’s rules.  Kurt, however, doesn’t need him to be toned down - just to be his authentic self because Kurt wants to be his authentic self, too, and they should both try that out together -- with everyone else in the band. 

(Also, we learn that Elliott is from New Jersey, land of malls, and he didn’t get into NYADA - because NYADA is apparently stupid.) 

So - Adam Lambert joins the cast for a tragically short amount of time. 

I also love that Santana comes along and tells Kurt to stop flirting because of his fiance back in Lima.  (And then gets all hot and excited when she learns who he’s talking to.) And this leads to an aside from me - look, I get there are a ton of Kurt/Elliott shippers out there.  I get it, they have a nice chemistry about them.  But I really love Kurt and Elliott’s friendship.  I kind of love that these two can be friends and there aren’t any romantic overtones to it.  But obvs. that’s just me. 

Pamela Lansbury

So.  I love this scene, it’s just quiet and snarky as they Kurt, Santana, Dani, and Elliott try to come up with names for the band.  “Queen” Kurt is shooting them all down, though.  Oh Kurt - your wanting to be in control will always be a part of you, won’t it.  Personally, I liked Aerola 51s, lol.  Anyway, I kinda wish we had more scenes like this - they’re so much fun. 

So, Rachel comes in, and magically comes up with Pamela Lansbury for the name.  Which.  Sure.  I mean, I get it - it makes sense for Kurt, especially the Lansbury part.  Not so sure about naming the band that has connotations to your future mother-in-law, but you don’t know that yet, do you ;) 

This is what crazy Kurt looks like.  Have we ever seen him make this face before?  I don’t know.  

Anyway - Kurt tries to get Rachel to join because sure -- she’s just dealing with the death of the person she thought she’d spend the rest of her life with, starring in a Broadway show, going to college, and working as a waitress -- but what’s a little side band, too? (I mean, god, even I think she needs a break.) But Kurt is magical and can talk her into it.  And bam -- Kurt will not even get to sing in his own band.  

(Seriously - why are Chris’s vocals not on this one? Fail, Glee.  And you were doing so well!) 

However, I still love Roar.  It’s my jam.  And even if Kurt doesn’t sing -- at least he’s having fun with the rope they managed to tie to the ceiling? Oh this show...

Gay, gay, gay, gay, Rachel.  <----------Season 5 NYC in a nutshell. 

I love season 5!  **YAY**

#finding kh #kurt hummel #hey look i finally updated

[christoperwal-blog]

Would You Recommend It To Others?

I really like carrying maxi-dresses in the summer season, really easy to wear and in addition so comfy. Despite this, I only have a couple that I frequently put on, and have delay making them for ages as a result of I discover slicing out giant sample pieces type of annoying. Nonetheless, with 30˚C predicted by this weekend I need a number of extra warm weather clothes that I fit into. I would also seen plenty of Nettie variations floating across the sewing blogosphere recently. These two ideas percolated for some time, and i realised that I could use Nettie as a foundation for a maxi-dress. Close-fitting costume or bodysuit, with alternative of necklines and sleeve lengths. 0.6cm, so mine is technically a bit smaller than it ought to be, but it hasn't made a huge amount of distinction. The construction was pretty straight forward, aside from the neckline. The shoulder seams are stabilised with clear elastic on the shell fabric only. The shell and lining are joined on the neckline as a "shell" and "lining" to provide a clear finish, however treated as one layer to join the sleeves for simplicity.

I had initially supposed to sandwich a contrast binding between the layers to each stabilise add interest to the neckline. This left the issue of easy methods to stabilise the neckline - given the burden of fabric in a maxi-gown, I wished to add one thing stronger and more stable than just stitching, and stretchier than bias tape. Elastic was the plain choice. I used 5mm extensive regular elastic (I really don't love clear elastic on pretty much anything besides shoulder seams). I minimize a loop 10% shorter than the neckline, plus an overlap that was sewn together flat on top of each other, taking care to not twist the elastic. This was zigzagged it to the incorrect facet of the lining piece simply contained in the seam line, matching it at quarter factors as you'd do an everyday binding. I truly needed to do a whole lot of pinning to make sure it was even because the bamboo rayon jersey is slippery and the curves within the neckline are fairly tight.

The lining and shell necklines were then carefully sewn together on my serger, right sides together and lining with elastic uppermost. The sleeves were hemmed with a 3-step zig-zag to maintain them stretchy. I needed a minimal hem on the skirt to keep the length (I'd underestimated a bit how much the weight of the fabric would pull it downwards). I serged the sting to present some heft to the hem, and then merely turned it below and high-stitched with a slim zig-zag. Would you sew it again? Would you recommend it to others? I am undoubtedly going to use the bodice half again, the neckline is tremendous flattering, and (with minor adjustments) the draft is very good for me. I feel it is also an important starting point for more hacks and alterations. I'd really prefer to make the bodysuit, however I don't really know whether I would put on it earlier than losing some weight - perhaps for the winter so it is nice and cosy under different layers. I would positively advocate this to others although - the draft is sweet and very flattering on apparently everybody who's made this! I am super pleased with this dress. If you liked this article and you simply would like to collect more info about zentai please visit our own web-site. I love the neckline and the match - I used to be involved that the weight of the skirt would pull the back waist away from my body, but the minimize and match appears to maintain the whole lot in place perfectly. It is fairly close fitting, however snug somewhat than sausage-y (I am not sure snug issues are totally flattering for me for the time being, but I don't care, I prefer it).

In most skirts the length hits above the knee, roughly 13-15" in size. They're designed to permit for a wide range of movement as well as for comfort. Once more, you will want to keep length in thoughts to make sure the skirt complies with your crew or associations guidelines. Most companies will customise skirt lengths per your request. Skirts may be plain or custom-made with various shade placements and braid designs. There are lots of options to think about in the case of skirts. A-Line: The essential skirt fashion which skims over the hips with the slightest flare. 3-Pleat: That is an a-line skirt with only 3 pleats on one side within the front of the skirt. 8-, 12- and 16-Pleat: This is a skirt with pleats placed within the entrance and again of the skirt. The quantity refers to the full number of pleats on the complete skirt and the more pleats within the skirt, the narrower the width of the pleat. In some skirts, the color on the inside the pleat might be personalized for distinction. Flyaway Pleats: Pleats that are panels, not hooked up to one another at the hem, allowing for motion.

[cinnamonrollcipher]

Hello! I'm really impressed with your link/Gerudo cosplay! Did you make it yourself, or do you know of anywhere to buy it? I've tried looking online, but no luck! (I was hoping to dress up for Halloween)

Hello! Sorry this took me awhile to get to but I saw thisask and thought I could turn it into a little tutorial of sorts? Anyway, justin case you or anyone else is planning on making this costume I thought I couldexplain my process a little bit and let you guys know what mistakes I made soyou won’t make them too. Because at this point a few of the pieces from mycosplay need to be remade for comfort and functionality reasons. Not going tolie, this cosplay is a lot of work, especially for someone like me who has verylimited sewing skills (this is only my second sewn cosplay), but its superrewarding. Alright, this is going to be long so buckle up. Let’s start!

First off, the pants. This is probably the easiest part tomake because it is the only piece that I didn’t have to draft a pattern for.Just look around for harem pants patterns and find one that matches the shape ofLink’s. Personally I used the US-Erna pattern from firstloungeberlin on Etsy (avery nice pattern, it has pockets!)

Next the shirt. Make sure to have some sort of stretchfabric for this, like stretch cotton or jersey. Otherwise the shirt will notlay flat like it’s supposed to. I made this mistake and had to go out and buy morefabric which was annoying haha. Anyways, as for the pattern, it’s basically a slightlyaltered halter style crop top. I watched a few DIY crop top videos on YouTubethen used a tank top to draft a basic pattern. The shirt will have to bedecently tight in order to lay flat (which is why I put a zipper in the back tomake it easier to put on). Also for those of us with breasts, I recommenddoubling the fabric up so it’s less see through. My shirt is two layers and itworked great. Personally, when I remake the shirt I’m going to use bias tape tofinish the edges for a cleaner look but you can finish them however you like.

Once the shirt is pieced together it’s time to paint it (theruffles at the bottom of the shirt were added after painting). This was one ofmy biggest mistakes. I was cheap and used acrylic paint. Don’t do that. It endsup being stiff and took all the stretch out of my fabric, meaning I had to addan extra panel in the back to make it fit. Now, I recently found out there is aproduct that can be mixed with paint to make it flexible like fabric paintafter blasting it with heat. But I have never used it so I don’t know if itactually works, so if you can use fabric paint. I freehanded the paint becausestretchy fabric is hard to draw guides on but if you need to you could makestencils probably. Also be sure to put something underneath the shirt like apiece of paper to soak up the paint that seeps through the fabric. You willneed several coats depending on the type of paint you use. Another mistake Imade at this point was using craft foam for the gold detail thingy in the centerof the shirt. It ended up bending a lot because of where it is on the shirt andit honesty isn’t super sturdy. I would recommend just painting this detail.

For the neck piece I used a synthetic metallic like band…..stuff.I’m not sure what it’s called haha. Anyway, my advice here is if you use a verysynthetic material like this: use super glue. Because hot glue just won’t stickto it.

Next is the arm pieces. So I used the metallic stuff for theactually bands and added Velcro to secure them around my arms. This works finebut it may be a bit easier to use a wide stretchy ribbon type fabric instead,just so it clings to the arm better. I just couldn’t find anything like thatthat looked right so I went the Velcro route. It works well enough. Now I useda sheer fabric for my arm pieces. This means I finished the edges with fraycheck, which honestly makes them a bit itchy, so I recommend covering the areainside the band where the fabric and band are attached together with morefabric. Just to protect your skin from irritation. I drafted the pattern forthe arm pieces myself which is pretty easy, just measure the length of your armand its circumference. Then add in the little gaps at each end. Before sewingthe fabric into its tube shape I painted it. Fun fact: sheer fabric is a painin the ass to paint. It cannot be touching anything, like at all. I had tobasically suspend it and paint it. Same for the face veil.

Next was the head piece. I drafted the pattern for this aswell and it’s a tad hard to explain without pictures. Basically it was roundedat the top then went straight down then into a point at the bottom. Now thiswill not fit your head right away. You need to take the fabric at the top andon either side of the head, gather a small dart of fabric and sew it down. Thiswill force the top of the veil to take a circular shape and thus fit your head.I then hot glued 3 extension clips to the inside of the veil so it would stayon my head.

Finally came the belts. Okay, real talk. I messed these upbad. So I won’t be explaining my process for these. I should have used muchthicker fabric for them and I didn’t make them long enough to fully wrap aroundme.

Okay so that’s about it. If you have any other questionsfeel free to drop me an ask! Sorry if some of this didn’t make sense.

[papermoonloveslucy]

Ethel Merman and the Boy Scout Show

S2;E19 ~ February 10, 1964

Synopsis

When Ethel Merman headlines the Annual Boy Scout Show, Lucy and Viv are relegated to being costumers. Feeling sorry for them, Merman agrees to share the spotlight.  

Regular Cast

Lucille Ball (Lucy Carmichael), Vivian Vance (Vivian Bagley), Gale Gordon (Theodore J. Mooney), Ralph Hart (Sherman Bagley) and Jimmy Garrett (Jerry Carmichael)

Candy Moore (Chris Carmichael) does not appear in this episode.

Guest Cast

Ethel Merman was born in Queens, New York, in 1908. Known primarily for her powerful belt voice and roles in musical theatre, she has been called 'the undisputed First Lady of the musical comedy stage.'  Among her many stage credits are: Anything Goes (1934), DuBarry Was a Lady (1939), Annie Get Your Gun (1946), Call Me Madam (1950), and Gypsy (1959). “There's No Business Like Show Business” from Annie Get Your Gun became her signature song. It was also the title of a 1954 movie musical starring Merman. Hollywood was not always friendly to Merman, who was replaced for the film versions of Annie Get Your Gun (1950) by Betty Hutton, Gypsy (1962) by Rosalind Russell, and Dubarry Was A Lady (1943) by Lucille Ball!  Dubarry Was A Lady also included the song “Friendship,” which was featured in “Lucy and Ethel Buy the Same Dress” (ILL S3;E3). In 1934 Ball and Merman co-starred with Eddie Cantor in the film Kid Millions. Merman recreated her stage performances on TV in “Panama Hattie” (1954) and “Annie Get Your Gun” (1967). Merman died in 1984 from a long illness after a brain tumor.

LUCY: “You’d think she was the biggest star on Broadway.” VIV: “She is.” 

This was the second of two episodes to feature Ethel Merman. Originally, they were intended to be one episode, filmed on December 5, 1963, but the material seemed rushed and the stars were enjoying the work so it was decided to expand into a second episode. The first draft of this script was dated November 20, 1963 with pink and blue pages (updates and changes) from December 1963. 

The previous episode (which originally had this episode's title) was re-titled “Lucy Teaches Ethel Merman To Sing” and the final scene of it was rewritten to lead into this one. However, due to Merman's schedule, it wasn't filmed until a month later. By that time, Lucy had started wearing a new wig, Viv was tanned from a Christmas vacation, and Merman had changed her hair color. In between the two episodes, Desilu produced “Lucy Plays Florence Nightingale” (S2;E14), “Lucy Goes To Art Class” (S2;E15) and “Chris Goes Steady” (S2;E16).  

These two Ethel Merman episodes were re-run on CBS on May 24 and June 1, 1964.  

Lucy was a big fan of Ethel Merman and offered her a guest spot after her Desilu pilot “Maggie Brown” was not picked up for series. Lucille Ball and Gary Morton attended the filming of the pilot and Merman also was in the audience for an episode of “The Lucy Show.” On the DVD extras, Jimmy Garrett recalls that Lucille Ball caught him watching filming from the wings and whispered "Watch very carefully. You'll never see anyone better."

Vivian Vance understudied Ethel Merman as Reno Sweeney in the 1934 Broadway musicals Anything Goes and Red, Hot and Blue (1936), both by Cole Porter.

Merman is living with Lucy and Viv while she's in Danfield. Lucy and Viv were established as den mothers of their sons' scout troupe in “Lucy Visits the White House” (S1;E25).

Mr. Mooney's daughter Rosemary, who lives in Trenton, New Jersey, is about to give birth to his first grandchild. This is the fourth Mooney child to be mentioned on the series: Arnold, Bob, Ted Jr. and Rosemary. Like her mother, Irma, Rosemary is never actually seen. Lucille Ball briefly lived in Trenton, New Jersey, as an infant.  

In the living room, Merman sings a few bars of “Red, Red Robin” with Jerry and Sherman dancing around her in bird costumes. "When the Red, Red Robin (Comes Bob, Bob, Bobbin' Along)" was a 1926 popular song written by Harry Woods. It was a big hit for Al Joleson, Bing Crosby, and Doris Day. 

When Viv demands Lucy finish her costume right away, Lucy calls her a “wicked stepsister” - a reference to the fairy tale “Cinderella.”  The line gets a large round of applause from the studio audience. 

Lucy says the old manual sewing machine belongs in the Betsy Ross museum.

LUCY: “When I looked at the bobbin it was full of red, white, and blue thread.”

Coincidentally, as Lucy says this, she is wearing a blue shirt, with red and white tape measures around her neck.

Elizabeth ‘Betsy’ Griscom Ross (1752–1836) is widely credited with making the first American flag. Although there is no actual Betsy Ross museum, the Betsy Ross House on Arch Street in Philadelphia is the location where she supposedly sewed the first flag, although this fact (and her residence there) is disputed by many historians. Betsy Ross was a character on “The Jack Benny Program” in 1964 (above) when Lucy played Mrs. Paul Revere!  

Lucy tearfully tells Merman she’s always dreamed of having her ‘name up in lights’.  She tediously spells out her full name: “L-U-C-I-L-L-E  C-A-R-M-I-C-H-A-E-L”.  Ethel replies “If you ever get to Broadway, you’ve got to get a shorter name!” Not coincidentally, Ethel Merman herself shortened her name for the marquee: she was born Ethel Agnes Zimmermann!   

THE ANNUAL BOY SCOUT SHOW 

Sherman does an acrobatic dance routine as an opening act

In “Lucy the Music Lover” (S1;E8), Sherman did a quick ballet dance through the living room to impress Lucy's date. Ralph Hart was also a musical theatre performer, seen in the film musicals Gypsy, The Music Man, and Bye Bye Birdie. 

Jerry (in his scout uniform), tells a joke.

From his first audition for the series, Lucille Ball thought that Jimmy Garrett's dry delivery of his lines was hysterical.  

The adult performers alternate in providing linking narration and paging the stage curtain to transition to the next act. Technically, the Boy Scout Show does not run in one continuous cut. The paging of the curtain allows for subtle edits in the film to piece together what were separate takes. 

Merman, Lucy, Viv and Mr. Mooney sing “There's No Business Like Show Business”

The song is from Irving Berlin’s Annie Get Your Gun (1949). It will also be sung again the the Boy Scout Show's finale. Jerry spoke the title in the previous episode “Lucy Teaches Ethel Merman To Sing” (S2;E18).  

VAUDEVILLE

Lucy does a quick juggling act.  

The plates are obviously rigged for comic effect. 

Mr. Mooney and Viv sing "Tiptoe Through the Tulips", which was originally to be sung by Mr. Mooney and his wife Irma, had she not had to go to Trenton for the birth of their grandchild. 

“Tiptoe Through the Tulips (with Me)” was composed by Joe Burke with lyrics by Al Dubin for the 1929 film Gold Diggers of Broadway. In 1968, it was sung by Tiny Tim, whose version charted at #17, becoming his signature song. Due to its resurgence in popularity, the title was also mentioned on several episodes of “Here’s Lucy”.

THE FLICKERS (aka SILENT MOVIES)

Lucy, Mr. Mooney, and Ethel Merman perform a silent movie sketch about a husband leaving his wife for another woman. 

The sketch is pantomimed to honky-tonk piano accompaniment. 

THE TALKIES 

Viv as Shirley Temple sings "On the Good Ship Lollipop". Vivian Vance, an accomplished singer, makes a concerted effort to satirize the mannerisms and vocal limitations of a child performer like Shirley Temple. 

"On the Good Ship Lollipop" was composed by Richard A. Whiting with lyrics by Sidney Clare. It was the signature song of child actress Shirley Temple, who first sang it in the 1934 movie Bright Eyes. Shirley Temple was mentioned on “I Love Lucy” in 1955's “The Tour” (ILL S4;E30), by which time the former child star was married and known as Shirley Temple Black.

BROADWAY MUSICALS

A tribute to 1920s stage musicals features Lucy, Viv, Ethel Merman and Mr. Mooney

In “Lucy Teaches Ethel Merman How To Sing” (S2;E18), Viv suggested dancing the Charleston for the Boy Scout Show, but the idea was shot down by producer Sherman. The sketch also features Gale Gordon doing a cartwheel, something he would do in future ‘show-within-a-show’ episodes. After being jilted, Lucy sings a few bars of “Am I Blue?” a song written by Harry Akst and Grant Clarke in 1929. It has since become a standard, covered by many musical artists. The sketch ends happily with Merman singing the final notes of her hit “I Got Rhythm”, a song she originated in the 1930 Gershwin musical Girl Crazy and also sang in the previous episode.  

RADIO

Mr. Mooney is a radio host presenting a lady saxophone player (Lucy) from Altoona, Pennsylvania, playing "Glow Worm" (badly)

"The Glow-Worm" is a song from Paul Lincke's 1902 operetta Lysistrata. It was also used in the 1907 Broadway musical The Girl Behind The Counter. Lucille Ball had briefly played the saxophone as a child. During the radio sequence Mr. Mooney says “Round and round she goes! Where she stops, nobody knows!” This was a quote from “Ted Mack's Amateur Hour” a radio and TV talent show that began in 1934. A wheel of fortune was spun to determine the order of the performers and while it was spinning, Mack intoned the now-famous line. The show officially ended in 1970 but was revived briefly in 1993. Before entering television, Gale Gordon was the highest paid radio performer in Hollywood. Lucille Ball was also a radio performer with her own series “My Favorite Husband.” 

TELEVISION

A tribute to “The Ed Sullivan Show” and its showcase of variety acts

To show the cyclic nature of entertainment, Lucy repeats the same exact juggling act she did at the start of the show. Ed Sullivan hosted an immensely popular variety show on CBS from 1948 to 1971. Up until 1955 it was called “Toast of the Town.” Ethel Merman frequently appeared on “The Ed Sullivan Show,” often singing her signature songs.  

FINALE

Ethel Merman sings "Everything's Coming Up Roses"

"Everything's Coming Up Roses" is a song introduced by Merman in the 1959 Broadway musical Gypsy with music by Jule Styne and lyrics by Stephen Sondheim. Merman sang the song throughout her career, even to a disco beat! 

Everyone joins in for a reprise of “There’s No Business Like Show Business”

After the filming was complete, Merman recalled that she and Vance went to Lucille Ball's house for some girl talk and Lucille styled their hair – to disastrous results. Ball also threw Merman a bridal shower (above) before her month-long marriage to Ernest Borgnine in 1964.  

Callbacks!

Lucy Ricardo used a sewing machine for the first time in “Lucy Wants New Furniture” (ILL S2;E28).  

Cheesy vaudeville gags such Lucy’s rigged plate juggling were an integral part of the finale of “Ethel's Home Town” (ILL S4;E15). Fred and Ethel Mertz were former vaudevillians.  

In “Lucy Has Her Eyes Examined” (ILL S3;E11), Lucy Ricardo and the Mertzes burst into an a capella rendition of “There’s No Business Like Show Business” in an impromptu audition for Mr. Parker, a Broadway producer.  The song would also be quoted (not sung) by Lucy Ricardo in “Baby Pictures” (ILL S3;E5).

"When the Red, Red Robin (Comes Bob, Bob, Bobbin' Along)" was sung by Fred Mertz (William Frawley) in “Lucy and Ethel Buy the Same Dress” (ILL S3;E3) and later by Lucy Carter in “Guess Who Owes Lucy $23.50″ (HL S1;E11). 

Lucy also played “Glow Worm” on “The Saxophone” (ILL S2;E2) and in “Lucy’s Club Dance” (ILL S3;E25). It was the only song she knew, until it was inexplicably “Sweet Sue” during season six! 

LUCY: “Well, you see, Ethel. All my life I’ve wanted to be in show business!” 

Lucy sobs in front of Ethel Merman because all her life she wanted to be in the show, something Lucy Ricardo also did many times on “I Love Lucy.”  The above line might easily have been spoken to Ethel Mertz or Ricky, instead of Merman.

When Merman agrees to give up one of her numbers for Lucy to be in the show, Viv asks Lucy if she would really let a big star like Merman do such a thing. Lucy lets out a high-pitched “Weeeelll” the same way that Lucy Ricardo often did. 

In 1954, “The Ed Sullivan Show” (aka “Toast of the Town”) devoted an entire hour to Lucy and Desi. Sullivan’s name and his show were mentioned several times on “I Love Lucy.” 

Lucy and Viv Charleston at the start of the ‘Broadway Musicals’ section of the Boy Scout Show. On “I Love Lucy” Lucy, Ricky, Fred and Ethel Charleston at the end of “Lucy Has Her Eyes Examined” (ILL S3;E11). 

This is the second time a silent film skit has been part of “The Lucy Show.” The first was with Lucy as Charlie Chaplin during “Chris's New Year's Eve Party” (S1;E14). 

Fast Forward!

Those red, red robins just keep bob, bob, bobbin’ again in “Kim Moves Out” (HL S4;E20) in 1974. 

The Charleston never goes out of style, as demonstrated by Lucy and Kim Carter when “Ginger Rogers Comes to Tea” (HL S4;E11) on “Here’s Lucy” in 1971.

Blooper Alerts!

Flown the Coop! Although, Ethel Merman has Lucy make 24 robin costumes so that she can sing “When the Red, Red Robin” while the scouts dance around her, the song is not in the finished show! 

Bulldog Cement? After the 1920's stage musical segment, Mr. Mooney's false mustache is falling off. It may have been due to spirit gum not adhering to Gale Gordon's own mustache or it may have been done for comic effect.  

“Ethel Merman and the Boy Scout Show” rates 5 Paper Hearts out of 5 

#Ethel Merman and the Boy Scout Show #The Lucy Show #Lucille Ball #Vivian Vance #Gale Gordon #Ethel Merman #TV #CBS #1964 #Jimmy Garrett #Ralph Hart #show business #vaudeville #The Ed Sullivan Show #Shirley Temple #On the Good Ship Lollipop #Tiptoe Through the Tulips #cub scouts #Boy Scouts #silent movies #juggling #Glow Worm #Saxophone #Ted Mack Amateur Hour #Radio #There's No Business Like Show Business #Everything's Coming Up Roses #Am I Blue #Charleston #Roaring 20s

[sorawcreative]

Black Designer Profile: Stephen Burrows

from Stephen Burrow’s website

Stephen Burrows Looks Back as Retrospective Bows

The designer did not seem to be the least bit wistful, frazzled or reflective about being surrounded by his past.

The following text is copied from WWD

By Rosemary Feitelberg

Stephen Burrows made sure that The Supremes’ “Up The Ladder to the Roof” will be piped into the retrospective of his work that bows Thursday night at the Museum of the City of New York.

Aside from it being a favorite song he liked to blast, it could double as an anthem for his career. Fittingly, the exhibition is called “Stephen Burrows: When Fashion Danced.” And dance he did, regardless if it was to Motown, rhythm and blues, New York sound or rock ’n’ roll. The music, like the up-until-dawn club scene he was once part of, has fueled his creativity as much as the buzz and street life he finds so stimulating about New York City.

This story first appeared in the March 20, 2013 issue of WWD. Subscribe Today.

As 25 helpers scrambled about on Tuesday afternoon pinning muslins, rolling on photographs like wallpaper and setting display text, Burrows did not seem to be the least bit wistful, frazzled or reflective about being surrounded by his past. (Never mind that he has spent the better part of the last six weeks helping to track down and select 50 pieces for the show.) Other flashbacks could be heard loud and clear in a documentary about the 1973 “Battle of Versailles” between French and American designers, of which Burrows was one. “It’s humbling to have so much attention. Usually something like this doesn’t happen until you pass,” he said. “Being successful is being happy in what you’re doing and being able to make money at something that you love to do. I can’t imagine anything that makes you happier than finding true love.”

Born in Newark to divorced parents, Burrows has always thought of himself as “bicoastal” in that he always traveled between his mother’s New Jersey home and his father’s Harlem one. After graduating from the Fashion Institute of Technology, his senior co-op job at the missy blouse company Weber Originals turned into a full-time one. “I was making $125 a week. That was a fortune back then,” he said.

By 1968, he had ventured out on his own thanks to private clients like the Brazilian artist Jim Valkus, Bobby Breslau and Roz Rubenstein. In 1970, his Fire Island friend Joel Schumacher — a Henri Bendel-er before he hit Hollywood — suggested he meet with the store’s then-president Geraldine Stutz and a 12-year alliance was formed. Hardworking as he was, Burrows ran with a fast crowd, including Pat Cleveland, Alva Chinn, Halston, Joe Eula and Elsa Peretti. After an after-dinner nap, Burrows would get up around 11 to hit the clubs with his friends — The Loft, Sanctuary and others. At 3 or 4 a.m., they would head home for a few hours sleep before going to work. Burrows said, “We didn’t really talk about fashion unless to tell someone we loved what they were wearing that they had made. It was mostly about dancing and the nightlife. Music was a big force.”

Alcohol and drugs were other forces too, though Burrows didn’t go into detail about those aspects of the period. “We were a product of the times. All that stuff was around, available and taken into account when needed,” he said.

Standing in the Target-sponsored Commune section of his retrospective, which plays up his disco-era rainbow-colored designs, Burrows said he is partial to the early days. The show opens with a colorful photo of Grace Jones snarling opposite a black-and-white one of a bespectacled Burrows wearing a Jell-O printed shirt. Eyeing an image of his first photo shoot in Central Park in 1970, Burrows said the Seventies were all about freedom of expression. That same year he became the first African-American designer to win a Coty Award. “It didn’t matter who you were with as long as you were happy,” he said. Gesturing towards framed sketches and vibrant knitwear, Burrows said, “I’ve always had a thing for phallic symbols. It’s kind of a signature.”

Others know him for joining Halston, Bill Blass, Oscar de la Renta and Anne Klein in the “Battle of Versailles,” the legendary fashion showdown with Yves Saint Laurent, Christian Dior, Hubert de Givenchy, Pierre Cardin and Emanuel Ungaro. “It was such a proud moment for American fashion,” Burrows said. “Of course, when we did it, we didn’t think about it that way.”

He recalled sitting beside Blass in first class as they flew to Paris for the show. “We didn’t know about the party the models were having in the back of the plane,” said Burrows. Nor did they know the figurative drawings Eula had spent hours sketching in New York would not fit to scale Versailles’ vaulted ceilings. “The Eiffel Tower he drew looked miniscule,” Burrows said. “The room dwarfed the scenery. We had to use a bare empty stage. The situation, we thought, was kind of hopeless. But it turned out to be such a knockout.”

Meeting Josephine Baker — “divine in a catsuit looking like she was naked” — and Saint Laurent were Versailles snapshots he will never forget. “Saint Laurent came up to me and said, ‘You make beautiful clothes,’” Burrows said. “He was sitting in the next booth at the event. The designers weren’t allowed to be with the clothes during the show.”

As for the current designer scene, Burrows rattled off Rick Owens, Lanvin and Jean Paul Gaultier as three favorites. Less enthusiastic about younger designers, he said, “I don’t understand what’s happening with fashion today. It looks very added-to, like everything in the kitchen sink. But that’s just me.”

Celebrity designers don’t hold his interest either. “They come up and just die. There are all these celebrity lines and in 200 days they’re gone. Meanwhile, someone else who does design can’t get going,” Burrows said. “The word ‘designer’ is so loosely used today. Of course, I don’t know what the cure for it is. It’s an animal in its own right.”

Asked about the lack of non-Caucasian models on many designer runways, Burrows said, “I find it peculiar, because part of their customers are not Caucasian. I don’t know that it will ever change. I always use and will always use all different girls.”

Minority designers also still struggle to get financing. “It’s particularly difficult for the minority designers. I don’t know why that is. I find it curious. It’s something that minorities will always be facing.”

At its most profitable in 2006, Burrows’ label was a $2 million business, but there have been fits and starts along the way. After running his own company from 1970 to 1982, he shuttered the doors and bowed out of the limelight. Caring for his cancer-stricken father and brother consumed most of his time, though he continued to create clothes for private clients and design costumes for the off-Broadway show “Momma I Want to Sing.” In 2001, Henri Bendel convinced him to come out of retirement and the following year he set up his own studio on 134th Street to relaunch his label. By 2008, he subletted space on West 37th Street — a few blocks from where his grandmothers first met as sample hands for Hattie Carnegie in the Twenties.

In August, Burrows had to deal with the blow of losing his business partner of 15 years, John Robert Miller, who died unexpectedly. Now he and the brand manager Mary Gleason are speaking with potential investors and hope to have new financing in place for a spring 2014 collection. Occasionally he designs for private clients “but not so much because I hate sewing,” Burrows said. “I’ve never had the patience for sewing. It’s terrible — I can’t sew a straight line.”

As for how he sees his role in the fashion world, he said, “The essence of Stephen Burrows — be happy when you’re in the clothes and have fun with what you’re wearing. I’m very simplistic about things like that. That’s just how I am.”

#African American Fashion #Fashion Designer #History of Fashion #Black History Month #Long Red #Black Fashion

[rosemarycountess]

Matthew Goode became the new face of Pal Zileri

@pleasereadmeok Here you go :) Tried to be as quick as possible.

Russian GQ took an exclusive interview in which Matthew describes the continuation of Downton Abbey, his work as a fashion model and explains why Italian girls exclaim «Ciao, bello!» in front of him.

He (Matthew Goode) is accustomed to playing refined aristocrats. He has already charmed the ladies with his cunning smile in the Match Point and Brideshead Revisited. It is his character who has married the unapproachable lady Mary in the end of Downton Abbey. This year the 38 years old actor tried an unusual role – he became the new face of the Italian brand Pal Zileri.

Why do you think they picked you as the new face of the brand?

Fortunately, these kinds of decisions are made by someone else and almost without my participation. It is decided by the people in major brand companies, who just call my agent after it’s accepted. How do you think yourself, why so?

You’ve got the type of the aristocrat with the pure taste. The quintessence of an English gentleman, who is slightly over 30.

You see, if I has said something like that, I would have sounded like a pompous fool! I’ve been casted in the few historical dramas, and people know beforehand how I would look in a good costume. My tailor says it’s easy to fit the clothes for me, I have a rather fashion body measurements. I am tall and thin, I can make an excellent hanger.

If talking about your life behind the screen, what kind of clothes do you prefer? Today, for example, you don’t wear a costime with a bow, but a cap, sweater and jeans.

Apart from being an actor, I have a second career in my life – being a father. Often it consist in working as a driver for my family and spending the time in the car during traffic jams. That’s why the comfort matters to me. When I need to go in public, for a premiere or a dinner party, I prefer the costume. I am very conservative about the style and colour, so it is possible to say that Pal Zileri withdrew me from my comfort zone.

The new collection is so bold?

It’s not a big jump to the left, but I am still very wary about the colour, and they tamed me with a carefulness and a tactful assistance of the stylists. For example, they have a wonderful blue jacket, which I could wear outside the studio now. From afar it looks quite usual, but when you come near the texture and the slight geometric pattern becomes visible.

The older you get, the calmer you are about the experiments?

That’s right! In my twenties I would never attend the party in something aside from the black jacket and the tie of the same colour. Now I understand that I would have looked as a security guard. Today I can even amuse myself with a costume of the burgundy colour. If I start to doubt , the Italian assistant exclaims: “Oh, ciao bello!” My doubts immediately go up in smoke.

Why do you have doubts?

I think it’s because of the culture traditions. Plus, men basically are less susceptible to changes in taste than women. We need some kind of impulse or a friend’s recommendation. For example: I once was going to the wedding and send my costume to the dry cleaners.  At the same time, I was foolish enough to forget to check the working hours and in the morning - the day before the important event -  on Sunday, I found out that the shop is closed. In panic, I went to my friend who lives in Chelsey, who has a similar body type, and in his wardrobe I discovered a wonderfully tailored outfit, which happened to be Pal Zileri. On that wedding I’ve received a lot of compliments from women about my costume, and since then I noted this brand in my head.

What is more important in the brand: the name or the ability of showing the character through the clothing?

Both. I love it when the designers experiment with the materials, sewing with cashmere and leather, but at the same time saving the loyalty to the classic canons.

What kind of wardrobe items would you take with you on a business trip?

I love the jersey jacket. The cape also saves me during the trips, abolishing the thoughts about the hairstyle. When it comes to winter, I put on the knitted cap and warm sweaters, mainly in navy blue colour.

I know a lot of movies stars entrust the question of the wardrobe replenishment to their stylists. Do you have the same solution, or do you go shopping by youself?

My spouse has worked in the fashion industry (Sophie Dymoke worked as the Sale Director for VINES – GQ example) and she has a great taste, so I trust her opinion even when I pick the jeans. What’s on me right now? The wife brought it from her trip to Japan, look, what is this label? (turns the back of the jeans inside out.)

G-Star Raw!

Exactly. Never thought I’d like the skinny jeans, but Sophie assured me these are able to stretch and I won’t feel too tight. In the case of the party I do have two or three costumes in my wardrobe, though I need to get them to the dry cleaners and return in time! Though this year I almost had no time for the parties…

When you star in the period drama, do you get an opportunity to pick your own costumes?

Depends on the production. I trust the artists and designers, and only leave the notes in the case the costume is too uncomfortable to wear. If the collar is digging into the throat, it is read upon the actor’s face, and you don’t have to suffer in silence.

What was the most interesting project in terms of clothing?

Recently, of course, the Downton Abbey. On the set we had a consultant who was responsible for the smallest details. He finally taught me how to make the perfect tie.

Probably, your costumes in A Single Man were made by Tom Ford, who directed the movie?

It is interesting how Ford tried really hard not to make his movies look as commercials to his brand, so he wouldn’t use his clothes on principle. But, of course, the film looked very stylish, just like the footage for a glossy magazine.

I was fortunate to talk with Tom recently. I was surprised with his young look and how eloquent he is…

Don’t say a word! In his 55 he looks mockingly good and much younger than me. It would be interesting for me to ask him about his skin care. On the same time, he really does have the talent of a speaker. He can present the TV-show, I would have watched it with pleasure!

How is it like – to work with the designer in the director’s chair?

During our first meeting it could barely fit in my mind. We agreed to have a dinner in Claridge’s hotel, and all the ladies in the restaurant around us whispered: “Oh God, it’s Tom Ford!” But after the first few minutes, it becomes clear that it’s a creator sitting in front of you, who refers to the cinema as seriously as to handbags design. He knows exactly what he wants from the actor and the other members of the cast. He’s a beautiful and eloquent dictator. We shot the whole picture in a record of 21 days!

You had no regrets when the previous, sixth season of Downton Abbey, was announced as the last one?

I mustn’t complain, as my character, Henry Talbott, has finally married lady Mary! (Laughs.) The creator of the series, Julian Fellowes, had to write so many excellent scripts, but he managed to finish the show on a beautiful, winning note. He did not suffer the fate of TV shows that close after the absolute loss of the audience interest. If you count all seasons chronologically, at the end of the sixth season the Countess - portrayed by Maggie Smith - would have turned 110 years old. Although I can please the fans: now there is talk of shooting a full-length movie.

Would you star in it as well?

It may well be! Julian has already wrote the script. The main thing now is to link all the actors schedules, who started to be torn apart by the producers immediately after the completion of the series. Michelle Dockery, my wife in the series, is now engaged in several projects. But I am sure very soon you’ll hear about the movie, and then I’ll tell you more about it.

Translated from Russian by @rosemarycountess

#matthew goode #gq russia #translation

[earljimy-blog]

Find the Right Custom Sewing Service to Design and Finish Your Project

In the business world, strategic alliances and alliances are key to success. When you have an idea for a new product or need unique items to promote your business, such as curtains, posters, costumes, handbags, etc., it is essential to get the right sewing company that can do all that.

While the best technology is essential, what really matters is the people involved in your project. You start with an idea, maybe a drawing or design, but maybe just a concept that you would like to develop. That's where knowing the right person and sharing your thoughts with him or her can lead to a finished product that meets your needs.

Think of your business and try to summarize it in a few sentences. If your company is diverse, you do not need to say everything, but try to focus on what a particular project can be and what your goals are for that product. Which article will make the statement you want to make? Custom-sewn items can be anything from a costume, to a doll, to a stitched item that fits your product.

Whatever the case, bringing your idea to a company with experience in those areas can help you find the right item. If you go to a large company or an offshore company you can meet that person, however, there are no guarantees and in some large companies, while a person can start a project, you can call another person to finish it. Sometimes you do not know who you're dealing with.

In large-scale manufacturing, you must use a large company, but for smaller and medium-sized production jobs, as well as for custom-designed sewing, a smaller company is preferable. However, before choosing that company, be careful. Small businesses sometimes do not have the resources to have the latest equipment or the best people in the field.

When selecting a custom sewing company among the large suppliers, you must choose the one that seems to offer the best price and service. However, when it comes to smaller companies, you can deal directly with the owner. Instead of having to worry about who will actually take care of your owner, you can work one on one with an experienced design sewer that will ensure the order is handled professionally and quickly.

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