feather skirts

The Forest Wisp.
Ostrich feathers, ferns, silk bodice and sleeves, hand sculpted twigs and thorns and a little (fake)fur to keep you warm on those cold Halloween nights.
I individually dyed 200+ Ostrich feathers to make skirt look like a ‘forest floor’ with different shades of green and brown. I added in ferns (with a little sprinkle of glitter) to subtly mix some leaves in with the feathers. I will post a close up of the bodice and matching headpiece later so you can see the fire opals in them :) Email me for custom requests on fairytas.info@gmail.com #costume #couture #dress #halloween #feathers #forest #spirit #wisp #fairy #twigs#armor #elf #moss #leaves #fireopal

Not according to plan

Ardyn found Sora again one day.  Dark tendrils flitted across his skin and he hissed as he felt something stirring.  

“Well, well. Alone again?”  Ardyn said as he walked forward.  "You really seem to be holding out.  Tell you want, give me the star scourge and you have more time.“  

Adryn reached forward, and Darkness encased Sora.  Adryn frowned slightly.  He wasn’t too late… it wasn’t… wait. What happened?

As Ardyn watched the Darkness formed around Sora.  His hair turned pitch plack and he wore something like a muscley bodysuit with a feathered skirt. Sora turned, and Adryn saw his pupils were yellow.  

“Did you get taken over?” He asked, then scrambled backward as Sora reached out to grab at his throat.

“I am Vanitas.  One of those encased in Sora’s heart.  We have decided that I am the one who is going to talk to you right now.”  Sora, Vanitas, said.  As Ardyn watched, Dark tendrils formed from him and turned into small creatures.  Vanitas made a movement like Sora summoning his keyblade but it was much different then Sora’s.  

“One?” Ardyn asked.  Vanitas grinned a slash smile.

“Yes, Sora has at least four people in there, including me.  And of all of us, I have the least to lose. And I have the Unversed.”  Vanitas strode forward again, the darkness turned into larger figures. With large red eyes and an insignia on their chest.  "So listen to me, before I skewer you and remove your heart.“

“You can’t do that.” Ardyn argued.  Vanitas chuckled.

“I can, and I have. Just ask Ven.  But I know I’m not the one to beat you permanently.  Which is the only reason you are still in that form.”  Vanitas stopped, and the darkness formed into one tall figure, it looked humanoid and carried a hammer and a cage.  "Stop taking the scourge from Sora.“

“You want him to die?” Ardyn laughed.  "You are willing to let him die for what reason?“

"My existence is tied to Ven, not Sora you idiot.  Ven’s in Sora’s heart for now so I am too. I don’t care if he lives or dies.  I care to get off of this planet so I can go choke the life out of Ven’s comatose body.  And maybe kick the crap out of Xehanort.  And I can’t do that if Ven’s heart is imprisoned here.”  Vanitas rested his keyblade over where Ardyn’s heart should be.  Darkness broke from the ground and surrounded him in an egg like shape.  "Leave Sora alone, or I turn you into an unversed. Got it?“

And then Vanitas, and Sora’s body, vanished.  

****

"Thank you.” A whispy Sora said in his own heart.  Vanitas was retreating and Sora was taking over.  "I-“

"You got this.”  Roxas said.  "You promised me you’d get my body back.  And since when do you give up on promises?“  He gave a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

When Sora came to, he was crying and surrounded by the Flood unversed.  Before he could pull out his keyblade, they looked at him in concern, then vanished. 


*screams* HANG IN THERE, SORA

Day 28: Halloween Party

I’m catching up slightly! Anyways, longer one shot today cause I had more time to do it! This is based off of a post I found on Tumblr. For @drarry-halloween-fest !!!

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Harry walked down the stairs from the dorm room and yelled, “Ready!”

Ron and Hermione grinned up at him. Hermione was wearing a blue dress complete with blue and pink ears. Oh. He recognized the character. It was Stitch from Lilo and Stitch, her favorite movie. He grinned at her and flashed her a thumbs up. Ron was painted white and he was wearing a pirate’s hook and a pirate cap, both painted white. He was a pirate ghost. The two were smirking at him. Well, Hermione was smirking. Ron was slowly turning purple under the white paint.

“What?” He asked, knowing exactly what she was smirking about.

“Oh nothing. Nice hair by the way.”

Harry reached up to touch his slicked back hair. “It took me forever to get my hair to stay like this!”

She smiled and then lifted her wand. “Do you have it? You want it ‘just right’, right?”

He nodded and held out the strand of blond hair. “Found it on his robe last night. We were in the Prefects Bathroom and I was giving him a good sha-”

Ron was definitely purple now. “Hermione, remind me to never step foot in that bathroom ever again.”

They laughed and Hermione murmured a spell. They were done.

He was itching to see the look on his boyfriend’s face when he saw the costume Harry was wearing. The Slytherins were hosting a Halloween party in the dungeons and he knew his boyfriend would be there.

When they got to the dungeons, they heard music blasting and loud talking from behind the entrance. They entered and found the party in full swing, with people dancing in costume. He easily recognized Parkinson, her shiny black bob of hair accenting her bird styled mask nicely, wearing a sequined top and a feathered skirt. Then, he saw him. And promptly started to choke on air. Ron thumped his back.

“Oi mate! What happened there? Is it-” Ron also turned to see him and also started to turn purple.

“The cheeky bugger copied me!”

Draco Malfoy walked up to Harry and smirked. “Malfoy,” he said.

For yes, Harry had dressed up as Draco Malfoy. His hair had been charmed blond and he was wearing those poncy robes he used to wear. But Draco was dressed up as Harry. His hair was black and was in a mess, wearing rounded glasses like his. Only tonight, Harry had gone for contact lenses. Harry decided to play along.

“Potter,” he snarled, trying to make his voice as Malfoy as he could.

Draco grinned at him. The git had even drawn a lightning bolt scar on his forehead and was showing it off shamelessly.

They stared each other down and then started to laugh, Draco’s light and somewhat musical and Harry’s loud and obtrusive.

“Hey babe,” Harry grinned and kissed Draco quickly.

“Hello love,” Draco replied quickly pecking Harry’s cheek.

“Nice costume,” they both said at the same time and then promptly burst into peals of laughter again.

anonymous asked:

Hello Fabrickind! I was planning on making an Odette costume from Barbie Swan lake. I was wondering on if you had any suggestions of how I could make the feathers on the skirt. I was planning on making the skirt itself out of tule and some other fabrics, but I'm not sure what I can use to make the feather design on the top of the bodice and skirt. If you have any suggestions I'd appreciate it a lot! I'm sorry if this sounded really confusing.

Hello there!

This is the outfit, correct?

It’s so shimmery. I love it.

I would use a polyester organza for this. Get one with a bit of shimmer to it already (not a glitter fabric), and it should get that effect.

You can polyester specifically because the easiest way to seal the “feathers” is with heat. If you don’t have a hot knife, be prepared for a long day with a candle or cigarette lighter. Using a hot knife or briefly holding the material over a flame melts the fibers together and creates a nice, sealed edge. This only works on meltable materials like polyester.

If you don’t want to bother with that and don’t mind slightly visible seams, you can cut out two “feathers” and bag line them, and then trim the seam allowance down very narrow before pressing, turning, and pressing again while it is right side out. You can topstitch around the edges if you don’t mind the appearance of stitching and want them to stay a bit flatter.

For the ribbing, you have a couple of options. I’d personally go with embroidery. Satin stitching the longer/thicker ribs, and simply topstitching with a straight stitch any finer or thinner ribs. Draw this onto your fabric with a soluble marking pen first so you know where to sew. Your other option, which is probably faster, is something like puffy fabric paint that you simply draw on top, though this won’t be as clean of a finish if you have wobbly hands (as I do).

To attach the feathers, leave them so they are floating and only sew to the skirt in the waistband. You can also make them on a separate overskirt, but I’d just attach them all together unless you had a reason to need to remove the feather portion (such as the dress transforming or otherwise needing the skirt and feathers separate).

I hope that helps!

Fabrickind / Q&A Staff

Bonnie & Clyde - pt 16

Originally posted by sugaglos

Another one. Silas poured shot after shot, you drank to forget, to enter a state of unawareness.

You two were the only ones in there.

“I’m leaving soon sweetheart.”

“No don’t go.” You mumbled, sitting up on his lap and caressing his face.

You let a finger trace down his cheek and then his lips. “I’ll miss you.”

Keep reading

Meet her at the Love Parade

Bourbon St, New Orleans - 16 months post TVD finale…

“What are you all standing around for?” Klaus growled, looking at his lazy minions. They usually did what he demanded but tonight they were restless, not that he should have been surprised. It was February in the Crescent City and that meant it was Mardi Gras. Klaus didn’t care for it though and his underlings should have been in the same mindset.

“Oh come on Niklaus,” Rebekah interrupted. “Surely even your minions deserve a night off for the occasion.”

“I don’t recall asking you, little sister,” he snarled, hating when his siblings tried to assert their power and interfere. Last time he checked, Klaus was the King of this town not them. “Go away and annoy someone else. I believe I gave you all an order.” They all dispersed, albeit reluctantly. Mardi gras or not they had a responsibility to him and given everyone’s shields were down tonight it was the perfect time to strike those most vulnerable.

Klaus walked outside onto the balcony, taking in the view from below as he did. The parade was in full swing, revellers dancing and singing in the street completely uninhibited. He looked across to his sister standing against the railing who was also watching with interest.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to undermine my authority, Rebekah?” He growled, his voice barely heard over the cheers of the crowd below.

“Oh please,” she huffed. “Don’t get your panties in a twist. Everyone deserves to have fun every now and again.”

“I never said…”

“Oh yes you did,” she drawled. “Just because you’re pining for Caroline doesn’t mean we have to suffer for it still.” Klaus knew it was true not that he’d admit it to his nosy sister of course. Ever since he’d sent that cheque and letter it had plagued his thoughts, especially given she hadn’t cashed it yet. Did he do something wrong? Last time Klaus checked he’d donated to a worthy cause, nothing else.

“Have I told you how much you’re annoying me today?”

“No, but glad to see you’ve gotten in just before curfew,” she scoffed. “I’m going to go and enjoy myself like Kol, I suggest you try to do the same thing,” Rebekah muttered, walking away purposefully.

Klaus let out a low growl, annoyed that he didn’t have anyone to take his aggression out on now. It was normally his minions but if they were too busy running errands that usually befell to Kol, Rebekah and Elijah who had made themselves scarce tonight, not that he should have been surprised.

He grabbed the whiskey that had been pre poured on the table and took a long sip, his eyes trained on the crowd. Maybe he needed someone’s blood to take his mind off the loneliness he felt. Klaus had been surprisingly disciplined since she was out of the picture but he couldn’t deny that the scent of fresh blood wasn’t driving him crazy. Not because he really wanted it but because it was something to get his mind off the blonde that had been plaguing his thoughts. If he wasn’t immortal, Klaus knew she’d be the death of him given the frustrating ache he felt from her absence.

He scanned the crowd helplessly, his eyes focusing on a person in the crowd, dressed as an angel in white. She wore a feathered mask, her short skirt brushing mid thigh and the brief top displaying a hint of cleavage. Klaus shouldn’t have been surprised that she caught his attention given her beauty, those golden waves and their obvious differences. It was at that point, she looked up towards him on the balcony pointedly, her gaze unwavering. Even with her mask in place Klaus knew there was something about this girl and he needed to know what that was.

He was on autopilot at that moment rushing downstairs, hoping he hadn’t missed her. Bursting out of the front door, he found himself immersed in the crowd. He looked around urgently, catching those white wings in the corner of his eye. Klaus bounded forward using his power to push everyone out of his way. She raced away towards Toulouse Street and he followed her in anticipation.

It was less busy there and Klaus was excited to have the opportunity to appreciate her privately, every instinct telling him she was the very girl he’d been seeking for a long time now. Klaus just wasn’t sure why she’d chosen to show up in his town but he really didn’t care. She giggled mischieviously in the distance, Klaus following her like a lost puppy as her dress rode high on her thighs, revealing those creamy thighs he’d dreamt of incessantly.

He caught up, pushing her lightly against the brick wall, his hands making their way from her abdomen and now resting on her hips. Even through her mask Klaus could tell she was happy to be there.

“Took your time, love,” Klaus growled, a mixture of impatience and desire. It wasn’t a coincidence that he was rubbing himself against her like the wolf he was. She was purring in response.

“I was annoyed, actually I still am,” she gasped as he continued to caress her body.

“What did I do now?” He moaned from the sensations she was causing against his skin, half expecting that accusation given his track record but also a little surprised still.

“You didn’t think trying to buy me would cause some adverse response?” Caroline mumbled, never letting go. Her hands finding their way down his back, if he wasn’t clothed Caroline knew there’d be some nail marks by now.

“All I did was donate to a worthy cause,” he panted, trying to ignore just how good she felt against him.

“Well, I’m here to return your cheque,” she managed to utter as his arousal rubbed against her teasingly. He pulled away prematurely, his blue eyes staring her down questioningly, causing Caroline to growl in frustration from his distance.

“And why’s that?”

“I can’t accept it,” she mumbled, her voice hoarse.

“So why didn’t you just send it back, why put me through this?” He growled, his eyes downcast now. Caroline felt terrible all of a sudden for leading him on. She placed her finger underneath his chin and pulled it upwards slowly. As soon as his blue eyes met hers she knew it was it.

“Just because I didn’t want the donation doesn’t mean I don’t want you,” she murmured, brushing her lips against his. Klaus closed his eyes as his mouth massaged hers, knowing that she’d finally come back to him.

Drabble collection HERE

At First Sight

Castiel imagine requested by anon! “For Cas, what if only angels soulmates can see their wings, and when the boys introduce you to Castiel, you compliment his wings, the boys can’t see them and wonder why, and Castiel gets all embarrassed and tells you why.” Alright, minions, this is the first installment of a many, many part series. All future installments will be posted on the “The Story Continues…” page. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do. On my old blog, this was my single most popular imagine, and my most popular series. I’ve grown incredibly fond. This imagine has been edited for reposting to add a little detail here and there. Hope you like it!

“Look, Y/n, he’s not the tea party type, alright? He’s not used to-” Dean circled his hands at chest-height, his eyes scanning the overcast skies for the proper wording, the exact emphasis he could use to adequately describe this angel you’d heard so much about. Dean settled on a term, his eyes dropping back to yours, cautious and confident in the same moment, emotions swirling together as one. “Human stuff. Give him some time, he’ll get better. You just have to let him get used to you. Trust me; you’ll love him.” He assured, his hand on your back guiding you through the doorway and into the Men Of Letters bunker. You were just now returning home from a rather successful vampire hunt with Dean, having slain three and purified two new recruits. The rough denim of your jeans suctioned to your skin beneath with drying blood, crimson paint coating your body in splashes and bucket-fulls. A lot of blood is produced when you sever a head. You would have been safer, and quite a lot cleaner, in a hazmat suit and galoshes. You admitted you looked atrocious, so splattered in gore as you were, but Dean assured you that Castiel would pay no attention to your physical appearance. An angel thing, he had warned. All they were supposed to see were glowing orbs of light or… he didn’t know, lists of sins scribed across your skin. Dean’s lips had ducked to your ear, lowering his voice despite the fact that you were alone, standing outside the bunker’s second entrance. “Oh, and let him know if you don’t like the whole mind-reading thing. Angel thing.”

You shook the recent memory of Dean’s warnings from your head, quieting your assumptions (lest this Castiel sneak a peak inside your head) as you were lead inside the bunker and down the spiral stairs gracing the foyer. Your hand trailed over the wrought iron railing, the smooth, cold surface gliding beneath your skin, your fingers holding to the banister as long as was possible before your arm smacked into your side. Your feet reached ground-level as you progressed towards the library, your eyes falling on the electronic table you had helped Charlie boot up. Well, holding her hair out of her face as she fiddled with copper wires hardly counted as helping, but she insisted you were crucial to the operation, supplying her with conversation as she broke down the hunting communities most highly protected database. The fixture now served as a map of the world, lighting up with every monstrous location known to hunters and civilians alike. Of course, the civilians had no idea they were waltzing around during human open-season, hence the existence of your occupation.

Dean’s hand left your back stranded, your tie broken like the orbit of a moon around a destroyed planet, his eyes cautioning you once more before directing your gaze to the two men huddled by each other, concealed by a brilliant mass of light and feathers. You felt your jaw unhinge and drop, your vision going hazy from the sheer magnificence of the sight before you. God, how did they even fit in here? How overwhelming it must become, to live in such close proximity to these… these… intoxicatingly delicate wings.The shuddering canopy of gray feathers brushed against the bookshelves, the table, the light fixtures… like liquid, they molded themselves around everything, catching the lamplight like dulled gemstones. The feathers bristled when Dean’s footsteps filled the room, his heavy boots alerting the duo of your arrival before you feet could cross the threshold. Then, as if following the complicated choreography to some kind of obscenely organized dance, the two men turned to acknowledge your return. The feathers skirted around anything they may topple, intricate maneuvers keeping stacks of books from falling to the floor, every single plume flowing as if on a wave. When you found the resolve to turn away from the magnificence around you, you saw Sam’s face was bursting with happiness to see you returned unharmed, though you were coated quite generously with blood.

You sorted through the impossible amount of fluttering feathers until your eyes rested upon an unfamiliar face. The angel’s expression was stoic, unfeeling save his eyes, which pooled with crystalline curiosity, his gaze dissecting your every feature. His shoulders straightened, pushing back with rigid formality, his wings flattening as best they could behind him. For such an immense mass as his wings, the extensions were downsized impressively, though the very tips of his wings yearned for freedom, feathers bristling. You clenched your teeth together, fearing you seemed rude, gawking at the angel’s hardware with such unapologetic curiosity. Then again, the angel’s eyes had done the same to your face. It must be another angel thing Dean had forgotten to mention during your ride home. The Winchester in question stepped forward, gesturing to the celestial being nestled into the confines of the library, both brothers seemingly oblivious to the masses that grew from Castiel’s shoulder blades. Were they really that used to it? You didn’t think you’d ever grow accustomed to the intimidating wings.

“Cas, this is Y/n. Y/n, Cas.” Dean grumbled, taking a seat and kicking off his blood-slick boots as he finished his informal introduction. You gave a little wave, moving forward and into the library with intent to shake the angel’s hand. As you drew nearer, the angel’s eyes widened, though the rest of his face and body remained unmoving. He extended his hand, his palm sliding easily into yours. His warmth was unlike anything you’d ever experienced from so cold a demeanor.

“Nice to meet you,” you mumbled, still awe-stricken. Up close, they were even grander; the feathers were singing against each other, humming a sweet, soft tune. It was as if bells were rung as a lullaby, or (you concluded, unimpressed with your slow-moving connection) as if an angel were singing. He released your hand after an extended moment (or were you just too absorbed in his wings to account for time?), your eyes skirting back to the brilliance behind him. Where the artificial light branded them, they shot off every color you could name, and some you couldn’t, shattering spectrums like a faceted diamond. Their dulled reflections were vibrant now. Perhaps it was your proximity? His eyes, you noticed, had followed yours, a genuine expression of confusion and… diluted relaxation painting his chiseled face. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful,” you complimented, your tone breathy in appreciation. Castiel’s gaze locked on you, a sudden, silent movement of the eye, his wings going silent, completely immobile, not a single feather daring to move. The angel’s face now held the faint contouring of shock. Sam’s brow was pinched, his mouth quizzical.

“Yeah, he’s a looker, we know,” Dean scoffed, coaxing a chuckle from his younger brother at your apparent loss of control. “Jesus, Y/n, pull it together,” Dean whispered, his smile infectious. You shook your head at their idiocy, too invested in the angel’s glorious wings to bother blushing from embarrassment, your eyes locking with Castiel’s, their ocean-esque depth reeling you in. Perhaps this was an angel thing… those eyes. They were hardened sapphires, glowing internally as if each stone had harvested a single flame. His face had yet to shift, his wings yet to move, his form rigid as a plank under your inspection. Maybe it was rude to stare.

“No… I mean, well, yeah, but… his wings,” You stammered, irritated by the brothers’ lack of interest in the beauty they hadn’t warned you of, watching realization and something close to fear burst in the angel’s divine eyes. Dean made a sound of gruff uncertainty, the sound almost missed entirely under the sound of flustered bells… if bells could become flustered. Castiel’s hand had wrapped around your wrist, his skin flooding your arm with heat, the song of his wings unwinding as if relieved their owner was in contact with you. Castiel began to move then, leading you to the corner of the library, his hands gripping your wrists by your sides, releasing your hands once your fingers had spread against the wall behind you. The murmuring of bells increased, pealing in what sounded, absurdly, to be a whine.

“The Hell is she talking about, Cas?” Sam inquired, the angel rolling his eyes at his comment, his pupils diving into yours, his attention split unwillingly from his scientific analysis of your eyes.

“She was attempting to make a joke of my race,” Castiel explained, his eyes searching yours with complete concentration. You were certain he was joking, only his tone never deviated from a professional, if slightly disconnected, quality. Sam let out a breathy laugh before turning away, his hazel eyes praising your falsified wit. Your back bit into the wall as Castiel inched closer, careful to keep a respectful distance between your body and his. He lowered his voice, bringing his face closer to your own. He was clearly unfazed by the amount of gore painting your body, just as Dean had promised. "Please forgive my explanation. They cannot… humans aren’t supposed to be able to…” he trailed off, his eyes ducking to the floorboards as he fought for words. “What you see is a fragment of my true visage, something neither Sam nor Dean nor anyone else can view. My wings are only visible to one human. I had assumed that human would never come in contact with me. The odds are very slim,” his voice dropped once again, his eyes scanning the molding that tied the wall to the floor, his head shaking slowly. His ocean eyes lifted to meet yours once again, the fire within burning with a serious intensity. “This gift you possess is granted only to those destined to… fall for an angel. Do you understand? You may have heard it referred to as having a soul mate.“ If his proximity hadn’t startled you, his statement surely did the job. This was not merely an angel thing.

You inhaled slowly, watching his wings unfurl around you like a shield, blocking the brothers from your view. He shifted his shoulders uncomfortably, clearly in an attempt to wrench his feathers away from you, but the duel masses were having none of his resistance; the quills trilled against each other, tips reaching, stretching toward you. He spoke apologies with his eyes, his cheeks glowing dimly with his embarrassment. You tentatively reached for the feathers at the very bottom of his wings, the billowy plumes that were brushing against your side, your fingertip encountering only cloud. Your touch activating a higher pitched song, as if you had excited them. Your heart as well had been excited; you felt as if you’d recently recovered from a high-voltage shock, the way your pulse was racing. Glancing at his face, you realized you’d made him blush deeper, either by your touch or by your presence, you couldn’t be sure. Your mouth stretched into a shaky, timid smile, though your mind was unable to comprehend how you already felt so close to this stranger… but you were not nearly close enough to fling yourself into his arms and prance (or more appropriately, fly) off into the sunset. The angel nodded, his eyes sympathetic and… disappointed, it seemed, though he obviously meant to hide that emotion.

"I’m aware that love is generally a longer process for you, and I’m willing to give you the time necessary for you to be comfortable. It’s… overwhelming, I know.” To this, you nodded, thankful for his understanding of the human species, remembering that your thoughts weren’t safeguarded from Castiel. He ducked his head, though his eyes flickered to your face, closing in comfortable bliss as you buried your fingers in his wings, their exhilarated song filling you with warmth.

2

Dash and Nerie, with their current designs… may change in the future :’3
They’ll be in Autumn’s Journey’s sequel ^^

anonymous asked:

Hey can you explain about Bunny being gender nonconforming in canon and talk about your headcanon about him if you want?

hello! sorry this took so long i’m bad at putting down my thoughts uhh so, well.

in the canon, there is one big episode in which this issue is brought to light, and i should say that it alone is enough to support the claim that bunny is gender nonconforming. u know what i’m talking about: The Rest Cure.

in this story, raffles and bunny are on illegal holiday in some nice kensington house. raffles, who daily sneaks out in disguise, won’t trust bunny to join him. bunny is obviously annoyed by this, and to prove that he too can disguise himself and be trusted outside the house, he dresses up with the lady of the house’s clothes. now: this is clearly not meant to be a funny episode. on the contrary, it’s very gracefully written:

That morning, however, I did my best with a very fair razor which the colonel had left behind in my room; then I turned out the lady’s wardrobe and the cardboard boxes, and took my choice.

I have fair hair, and at the time it was rather long. With a pair of Mrs. Crutchley’s tongs and a discarded hair-net, I was able to produce an almost immodest fringe. A big black hat with a wintry feather completed a headdress as unseasonable as my skating skirt and feather boa; of course, the good lady had all her summer frocks away with her in Switzerland. […] I determined to complete my toilet in every detail. My idea was first to give him the fright he deserved, and secondly to show him that I was quite as fit to move abroad as he.

as can be seen, bunny displays a certain ease in what he’s doing that perhaps suggests that he might have done this before. at any rate, he disguises himself well enough that the owner of the house, upon returning and finding bunny in his study, thinks him a woman. so, in conclusion: bunny is comfortable in dresses just as much as he is in suits. 🐇🏳‍🌈

…obviously, in the 1890s terms like “gender nonconforming” weren’t really a thing. but men wearing dresses certainly wasn’t anything new. and, sadly, there were a few scandals in london involving this, such as the boulton & park case, that hornung surely must have known/read about… this is assuming that he didn’t take inspiration from his own personal experience! (which is, by the way, what he generally did. see for example: bunny’s childhood house in the spoils of sacrilege is based on hornung’s own childhood home)

finally: i’m nonbinary, and i get the feeling that bunny is nonbinary too. for many reasons! i wouldn’t even know where to start? anyway, i love him, he makes me happy