custom milling

kylo: master skywalker,,,we meet again

luke: mm yes it would appear that would be the case

kylo: any last words

luke as a single tear rolls down his cheek: yes…..ben……….listen

kylo: come to beg for your life ?

luke: no….i just cant believe my life was threatened by someone unironically wearing a top coat hood and scarf made of Custom Milled Basket Weave Cotten With Coating with a Neck Seal Made Of Faux Leather with Velcro Closure and a shirt with An Off Center Zipper With Pleated Sleeves And Pants Made Of Coated Black Denim With Faux Leather Tipped Suspenders

kylo: ….b,ut i picked all th,ese out mysel f

luke: yes and it shows with the forever 21 sticker you still have attached to your cape

7

The Evil Queen Custom Funko (Silver Coat)

Okay this might be my favorite Regina I’ve ever made.  She uses of all people Amy Winehouse for a head.  She had a bow on that I took off and filled with apoxie clay.  Her body comes from Maeve on Westward with a bit of carving and a tiny bit of clay (on the shoulders which you can’t see because of her glorious head).

I find it a minor miracle that she stands on her own.  I’ve no idea if she’ll fit in an insert even the Winehouse one…

I will take commissions to replicate this funko, please contact privately to discuss price as the market for the figures in which I make these out of can change wildly.  Ask me about my etsy shop.

A Lesson in Love (The Chance Meeting)

Summary: (College!AU) In which you’re assigned to write a story about romance, a subject you know nothing about, and Bucky, a hopeless romantic, offers you his assistance.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 2.304

“A Lesson in Love” Masterlist + Soundtrack

@avengerstories - have I told you lately that I love you (and your editing assistance)?

Originally posted by metal-armed-jesus

“Good evening,” an older man greets as soon as you enter the quaint, off-campus bookstore. His white hair is tucked under a hat and a pair of lightly tinted, thick-framed glasses sits on the bridge of his nose. “How can I help you today, Miss –”

“Y/N,” you insert, unraveling the scarf from around your neck. Outside, it was freezing. Inside this store, it’s comfortably warm.

“Miss Y/N,” he repeats in a voice that matches the calm ambiance of the store. “I’m Stan, the owner of this establishment.”

Keep reading

8

Custom Funko Cora Mills

Cora took a fair bit of work.  She was made with a first gen Queen of Hearts (Live Action Alice in Wonderland) and a Holly Golightly (Breakfast at Tiffany’s).  The head on the QoH is pretty much useless for anything else but you should try to take it off anyway because you want to keep as much height on the neck as you can when you cut it off.  You will need a TON of coats of paint on the body for some reason it was just hard to get theright red.  Otherwise it’s just a bit of trusting your hand.  The only modification to the head was painting a little red on her head piece.

@sarconistia @ecrivaisseur

Version 2.0 of Young Regina on the left, now with much less shine and a smoother finish (plus her head isn’t tilted up slightly). Also added much more pronounced neck frills and adjusted some colors. I gave her a slightly raised eyebrow, but I’m just going to say she’s being sassy 😛

Two Sugars, Extra Cream

Hello, lovelies! 

I do not expect chapter 2 of Bid Ye Soft Farewell to be up until next week (My SO is in town and I haven’t seen him in a while). SO, I’ve created this silly little ficlet in the meantime. Kind of crazy, kind of out of character. But I had a hell of a good time writing it! Hope you enjoy!


Caramel-Nut Latte, extra hot. Okay, 2 pumps caramel, 3 pumps hazelnut. 2 shots of espresso. Steam milk for extra 20 seconds and a caramel drizzle on top…

Beautiful, Beauchamp. You’re a goddamn coffee wizard.

“Caramel-Nut Latte for Duncan!”

I had been working for Mrs. Fitz for nearly a year at this point while putting myself through school. Though I loved the work that I did at university, there was always something so comforting and homey about the café. Perhaps it was the mismatched green walls, the exposed brick. Perhaps it was the baubles thrown haphazardly on the shelves, or the odd paintings Mrs. Fitz liked to pick up at second-hand shops. (The one with the chimpanzee queen was my favorite). Perhaps it was just the constant smell of coffee that reminded me of my Uncle Lamb– God rest his soul. It was an odd little place, but it was mine. I belonged here.

As if conjured by my own thoughts, I heard the tell-tale backfire of Mrs. Fitz’s ridiculously old car.  She really needed to upgrade.

“Ooooh, Claire, lass! Come help me with the milk! I heard we were runnin’ low, so I bought three crates full!!” Mrs. Fitz was terribly excited about that milk. I, however, did not share in that joy. I knew “helping” in this case meant “carry them all in for me.”

“Aye, aye, Captain Fitz,” I saluted her before going into the trenches. Or the trunk of her car. They looked similar at any rate.

She was making herself a latte when I walked back in with the third crate of milk.

“Mrs. Fitz! I’m utterly shocked that you would waste company products for your own use!” I placed my hand over my heart dramatically.

“Ach. I bought the stuff. I’ll do wi’ it what I please.” And with that she took a sip, smiling the whole time. Should I tell her she had foam on her lip? “Help yourself? I need to speak wi’ ye for a moment.” I waved her off.

“I’m all right. What’s going on?”

“My nephew is moving back into town, and he was needin’ a job. I told him he could work here. Could ye train him a bit? Show him how everything works?”

“Mrs. Fitz…” I was feeling extra dramatic today.

“Claire, dinna…”

“I am appalled that you would use your position as owner and operator of this establishment to hire those you are close to. Where is the democracy?”

“Tis no a democracy. Tis a dictatorship.” Mrs. Fitz was the great-auntie I never knew I wanted. I couldn’t help but laugh at her wit.

“Of, course I’ll help. When is he coming?”

“This Saturday, he’ll be back.”

“I’ll be here. Oh, and Mrs. Fitz?”

“Hmm?”

“You’ve got some foam on your lip.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Saturday mornings were slow mornings. No one had to be at work. Well, besides me, I suppose.

I was leaning against the counter when the overhead door bell jingled. Perk up, Beauchamp. Don’t look like a slacker.

“First customer of the day! Congrats! What can I get for you?” I looked up at the man. I mean, really up. Could a man really be that tall, or were two kids pulling a Little Rascals on me? He leaned down, elbows on the counter. Now, I could really see him. Red curls. Blue eyes. Freckled nose. Was he made out of marble? I had never seen features so sharp.

“Are ye Claire?” His voice was like the honey I put in my Darjeeling.

“Yes, I am. Who wants to know?”

“I do. I’m Jamie. Mrs. Fitz is my great-auntie. She said ye’d be helping me? Learn, I mean.”

“OH! Of course! I’m sorry. Come in, come in,” I said as I lifted the flip-counter. He ducked under my arm to get through. “Sorry, that was a bit awkward. You could have lifted it yourself.”

“Aye, it’s all right. I appreciate the chivalry, madam.” He drew out the word ‘madam’ as long as he could. I bowed in return. He chuckled. We were off to a good start, here.

“So, Jamie what to you know about coffee?” His cat-eyes went totally round at the question.

“Well, ye drink it.”

“Mmhmm. And have you ever made coffee before?” I was skeptical that he had even heard the word coffee before today.

“Aye! I make it every day in my Bunn coffeemaker.”

“Bunns are for shmucks. This is the big league. Can you handle it?” He faked a look of concern before turning his attention back on me.

“Aye, I think so.” He nodded as if trying to convince himself.

“Can you take the heat?!” I was starting to sound like a coach, and he, my star player.

“AYE!”

“All right! Let’s start with espresso, shall we?”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“So, you’ve grinded the espresso beans. Now what?”

“I put it in the machine…”

“No, no! You’re missing a step!”

“I tamp it!”

“Yes!” Jamie was a quick learner, his brain absorbing the things I said and did. Like a big ole ginger sponge. “You’re really getting the hang of it, especially for someone who didn’t even know what a tamper was when he woke up this morning.”

“It looks a bit like a weapon.” He rolled the bell shaped instrument in his hands.

“Perhaps to people with violent tendencies,” I said, giving him a pointed look. He just rolled his eyes. “How about you try to make yourself a latte or cappuccino?”

“Nay. I dinna drink lattes,” he answered distractedly, still playing with the tamper.

“Have you ever tried one?”

“No. I’m a simple man. Dark roast. Two sugars. Extra cream. These other drinks, they’re much too fancy for me.”

“Oh, Jamie,” I whined. “Be adventurous. Live a little!”

“Aye! All right! If it’ll get ye to stop squealing like a wee hog!”

“Did you just call me a hog?” I should be offended shouldn’t I?

“No, I said ye were like a hog. Big difference.” Yeah, definitely offended.

“Oh, well. Of course. Huge difference.”

“Oh, come, Sassenach. I was only teasing ye.” Oh, no, Mr. Fraser. You would not get off that easily.

“I know,” I mustered to most dejected voice. “No, big deal, right?” Could I fake cry right now? That would be the icing on this revenge cake.

“Claire, lass. Truly. I dinna mean it. Ye’re no like a hog. Ye ken that right?” God, that sincerity was killing me. I’d have to put him out of his misery…

“Oh, I know,” I perked up with a huge smile on my face. I’m pretty sure I was showing top and bottom teeth. Realization cam over his face.

“You wee-“

“Gotcha!”

“Ye’ll pay for that. Make no mistake.”

“Bring it on, Fraser,” I crooked my fingers at him, and then quickly let them fall. “Later. We have a task to accomplish.”

“Which would be…?”

“You. Drinking some frilly, fancy coffee you wouldn’t have otherwise.”

“Fine.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

               I decided to make Jamie my favorite specialty latte. 1 pump chocolate. 2 pumps almond. 2 pumps coconut. 3 shots of espresso. Extra hot. Whipped cream and chocolate drizzle. I handed it to him hesitantly.

“What did ye put in this potion?”

“Just drink it, Ron Weasley.”

He took a small sip, smacking his lips a bit and licking cream off his mouth. That motion was a bit distracting.

“So…?” He contemplated for a second, eyes studying the ceiling.

“Weel, tis a bit sweeter than I like…”

“But…”

“But, it’s no bad. Well done, Sassenach.” I blushed prettily and batted my lashes.

“They do say I make the best coffee in town.” This wasn’t a lie. Some people did say that.

“Do they now? Well, I’m glad I was adventurous and tried one of your frilly lattes.”

“Good.” We sat in silence for a few moments, as customers milled around. He was sipping coffee. I was day dreaming about that argument I had with a customer last month… What an arse.

“Claire.” Jamie broke me from my reverie.  

“Jamie,” I answered just as formally.

“Since I’m being daring, I’d like to ask ye a question.”

“Um, sure.” Weird, but okay. He took a deep breath.

“Would ye like to go to dinner wi’ me sometime?” That was definitely not the question I was expecting. I was thinking more along the lines of ‘Not to be rude, but why does your hair look like that?’ or ‘Can you help me bury a body?’

“I’m sorry?”

“Dinner. Wi’ me. Tonight, possibly?”

“I wasn’t expecting that, but yes. Jamie, I would love to have dinner with you.” I pleasant surprise, that was.

“Aye? Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“Thank God. That could have been embarrassing. Is 7 okay?”

“7 sound perfect.” Jamie Fraser, prepare to get the pants charmed off of you.

Hopefully literally.

9

Custom Funko Apple Red as Blood Regina

So this was a straight up repaint of the stock common Regina funko.  I’ve always loved this dress and felt a little sad that they did such a lovely sculpt of it while using none of it’s original colors.

So what do people think… was this insanity?  If it is, it’s madness I’m kind of proud of.

10

Custom Funko The Dancing Evil Queen (6.20)

Regina was a rock star in the musical episode and here we have her in funko from.  Her body comes from an Arkham Asylum Harley Quinn.  I cut the baseball bat out of her hand and filled in a hole in her shoulder where the bat rested with glue.  I carved out the front of her skirt to create a “jacket” from for her costume.  She got a brown vest and gloss black pant paint job.  Then her “jacket” was done in mixes of brown and copper and copper and gold and gold paint.  Her head comes from a gen 1 Regina and I repainted her eye makeup because I felt like the purple clashed and so she got light blue eye makeup to contrast.

> Laledy: Overwork yourself.

Your coworker’s recently found herself another job, and you’ll admit to nobody but yourself that you’re more than a little bit jealous that she’s getting to play real scienterrorist.

Regardless, though, the upside of the whole thing is that you get to pick on more hours at Taylor’s cafe. And for all that you’re getting paid under the table, more hours means more money.

If you can handle them, anyways. It’s just playing barista to a primarily lowblooded population - there’s no reason you should be feeling as woozy as you are now. It’s a slow time of night, with only a customer or two milling around on their nights off, but when you stand up to go grab a refill for the creamer, you only make it just past the counter before the black spots that have been dancing across what is left of your vision rapidly overtake the rest of it.

Passing out is like blinking, except when you open your eyes, you’re not standing up anymore and you’ve got no idea how you got to where you are.

“Whuh-?”