green bodice

Zootopia Fanfiction Take A Stand:Star of Ceartais Ch.19- Salut D’Amour

(AN/ Here we go, it’s time to learn Luna’s secret…)

Here’s a link…

Chapter 19- Salut d'amour

On the drive over to the bunker Robyn explained that she was in fact the super heroine ‘The Undying Scarlet’ to the astonished Aleks. She gave him a brief explanation of how she got her powers and what her actual abilities were and despite hearing some unbelievable Aleks had no doubt that he was hearing the truth, he had already seen the vixen he loved ferociously take out The Drowned tonight, she even went as far to kill one of them so hearing that Robyn was a super hero wasn’t too far fetched. Aleks voiced his wanting to know who the rest of the team were but Luna pointed out that it was not their secret to tell. Luna of course pulled into a KFC drive through and ordered a ten piece bucket and three milkshakes before driving onwards to the Bunker.

Aleks looked on in amazement as they entered down the hidden ramp and spiralling driveway down into the heart of the bunker. The two foxes and one hybrid got out of the Bugatti with Alek’s eyes soaking in every detail of the high tech underground base. Luna spied up to the observation deck and could see no one attending the monitors “Hood and Maid aren’t here?” Luna wondered out loud, holding onto the bucket of chicken.

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A China Rose: Chapter 13

Originally posted by reenacortez

Summary: Y/N was once an employee at Prince Adam’s castle along with being his childhood friend but she doesn’t remember. Caught up in the curse, she ends up in Villeneuve where she stands out. But circumstances arrive and she somehow returns to the place she once called home, and a beast she once thought a friend.
A multi-chapter fanfiction. MASTERLIST

Author’s Note: Here it is guys. So much fluff it is almost unreal. I love this chapter so much and this wee I didn’t have to re-write it all. Hallelujah! As usual Requests, Questions and Tags are OPEN! Hope you all enjoy! :)

Chapter 13: A Bridge and a Book
You spent the next week in the library. The week was spent with the Beast perched on one of the sofas near the fire. You insisted that he rest as much as possible so you made sure you kept an eye on him at all times. You refused to let him faint again, you told him that you didn’t want to have to carry him up all those stairs again but in reality it was the fact that you didn’t want to see his body crumpled on the floor once more. Seeing him on the floor, not moving after finally seeing him smile was one of the scariest things you’d seen in a while. It terrified you that one moment he was fine and the next he looked dead. No sir, you refused to let yourself or the staff go through that fear again. He seemed content whilst in the library. He always smiled when he entered the room (much like you) and for someone who was well aware of the wondrous room, you were constantly surprised by the fact that he always looked like he was seeing the room for the first time. Once you had placed him down on the sofa, and you went off to find some new books, you’d glance at him between the bookshelves. He was always smiling and his gaze scoured the books and desks that were near him. You could tell that behind his smile there was a hint of sadness. His striking blue eyes always stood out from his dark fur, and they told you all of his emotions (as normally he kept a stony façade). You brought him a book to read on the third day. An adventure novel as that was what he kept on insisting was the best kind of book. He seemed flattered by your gesture and he gave you a warm smile in return. However, it quickly faded into a look of confusion, with burrowed brows.
“What made you pick this book?” He asked. You simply shrugged in response.
“I don’t know.” You admitted. “I’ve never read it, I just recalled that you said you enjoyed novels which didn’t involve any heartache or pining. That normally means that a person likes adventure novels.” He was touched that you cared that much about him to give him a book from now your collection. He was even more so when he realised that you remembered what he said to you about books. He didn’t think you cared. Just as you were about to open up your book to commence your own mini adventure, he spoke up.
“If you haven’t read it,” he began, “then why don’t you… We… Um…” He trailed off at the end, scared to suggest what he desperately wanted. You looked up from your book eyebrows raised.
“Do what?” You questioned. The Beast scratched his head sheepishly, his non-visible cheeks reddening.
“We could read it together.” He offered, in barely more than a whisper. You were initially shocked by his proposal. After the shock wore off, you stood and walked briskly over to him, brushing your hair behind your ears as a way to distract yourself from the fact that you may or may not have been turning bright red. You sat down gently next to him and he opened the book to the first page, his large paws practically swallowing it all. Unsure of how to proceed you looked up at him.
“Would you like me to read?” You questioned, “Or do you want to? Or you know we could swap?” You rambled on before he let out a small chuckle.
“I’d prefer it if you read.” He said, stopping himself from adding on that it was the fact that he liked your voice. “We can swap later.”
You nodded. You began to read the book and slowly lost yourself in the story, creating voices for characters and changing your tone and speed based on what was occurring on the page. You didn’t realise that you’d finished the book without the Beast even speaking. He spent the entire time watching you, internally laughing whenever you did a strange voice or got so invested that you lost where you were on the page. You truly hadn’t changed much in the nine years you’d been gone. You were still perfect, to him at least. He was still staring at you even once you’d finished the book and he only looked away when he heard you slam the book shut.
“I liked that.” You said offhandedly, “especially those pirates.” He only nodded in agreement as he didn’t recall a single thing from the book. You both sat in comfortable silence for a while before he abruptly stood up. You flinched at his sudden movement, concerned for his well-being, despite the fact that you knew that he had pretty much fully healed from all his injuries. You looked up at him, hugging the book close to your chest. You noticed that his tail was brushing the floor, and he was rubbing the back of his head nervously. You raised your eyebrows at him, inviting him to ask what he clearly wanted to ask you.
“I was wondering…” He began before taking a large breath and coughing slightly as a way of calming himself. “I was hoping that you’d join me for dinner tonight in the dining hall?” He rushed out quickly before looking away bashfully. You let out a slight laugh, as this was the same thing he asked you a whole month ago. It had been a whole month since that argument. It felt like merely a day. You were about to let out another giggle but you glanced up into the Beast’s eyes to see them swirling with hurt and rejection. You immediately stopped yourself, not wanting to hurt the Beast.
“Sorry for laughing,” You spluttered out, “it’s just last time you asked me this, we weren’t on speaking terms.” He simply nodded his head and began to walk away, slumped over dejected. You stand up quickly and sprint over to him. He stopped abruptly and turned to face you. “I’d love to.” You told him and you received one of the biggest smiles you’d ever seen. “I guess I’ll see you then at six?” He nodded and gave a small bow before walking out of the room. You stood by the fire, alone once again.
As soon as you realised what that meant as dinner was merely an hour away, you rushed to your room but not before grabbing a book from your reading pile. You were surprised to see the Madame awake for once. She looked at you questioningly as you burst through the doors.
“My dear, whatever is the matter?” She exclaimed.
“I…l…” You stammered before stomping your foot down on the floor trying to regain control of your vocal chords. It took mere moments before you composed yourself again. “I am to dine with the…” You paused. You didn’t want to call him ‘Master’ like the servants but now it only just occurred to you that you had only ever mentioned him by using pronouns. You didn’t even know his name and now you were to dine with him. What on earth were you thinking? “Beast” was what you finally settled on but you felt immensely guilty as you knew/hoped that deep down he wasn’t one at all. You weren’t left with much time to ponder the conundrum you found yourself in as before you knew it Madame had drawn you into a tight hug.
“Oh this is wonderful news!” She exclaimed giving a happy clap of her drawers. “I must prepare you a dress!” She began pulling out fabric from her drawers but before she could deal them over you, you took a step back. She stopped mid stroke to look at you quizzically.
“Madame,” you began, images of the first ‘dress’ she made you flashing in your mind. “Nothing too extravagant, please.” She seemed forlorn.
“But you are a princess! I must give you something worthy of one!” She argued but you held up your china hand.
“I’m no princess.” You told her, “I’m simply a girl with a china hand who is in desperate need of help after being invited to dinner.” The Madame nodded slowly, seemingly taking in your words.
“Okay. I shall give you clothes like your own only prettier!”
“Thank you.” You told her, smiling.
“But…” She began and your smile immediately dropped. “Only skirts to meals, no pants!” She exclaimed and you let out a chuckle. You did a deep curtesy holding your brown pants as if they were a skirt.
“Of course Madame, you are the expert.” You said. With that, Garderobe pulled you towards her as she began working on your new dress.
You sat down at the table apprehensively. You didn’t dare look up from your book as it was the only thing stopping you from bolting from the room. You knew it was wrong to read at the table (your father always told you so) but you were invested in both the story and the escape the book gave you. You fondled with your new skirt made exquisitely by Garderobe. It was a deep navy with silver details and you wore an ivy green bodice that was decorated with gold leafy trimmings. The sleeves went down to your wrist and were also navy. It looked stunning yet modest and you revelled in the softness of the fabric. A creaking noise was heard from behind you and you stood immediately and turned. The Beast was standing in the doorway in a simple white linen shirt and black trousers. You felt slightly overdressed now considering his attire but you tried to remember the Madame’s advice which was to smile and breathe. You did both and you let out a large amount of air when he returned your smile and sat at the opposite end of the table. You didn’t speak, simply giving each other brief glances before a serving tray came through one on the doors with the food. Chapeau placed the dishes in front of you (a simple soup with bread and cheese on the side) and you inhaled its delicious scent. You told the coatrack to give the chef your compliments. The Beast seemed to gruff at your compliment with approval. You began to dig into you soup before you heard a loud slurp. You looked up from your plate to see the Beast with his head in the bowl. You questioned what on earth he was doing before you realised that he was basically lapping up the soup like a cat or dog. You let a smile creep onto your face before grabbing your book to begin reading, truthfully not wanting to see the Beast eat in such a manner. You and he finished the soup, bread and cheese at the same time and you had to stop a large ‘gwarph’ from escaping your lips when your saw his face. His lower half was red from the soup and he was licking his lips as if he were ashamed (which with those manners it was only right for him to). He stood before you did. He bowed once he reached your chair. “Forgive me but I must retire.”
'And clean up’ was added on as an afterthought by you. You nodded as he turned before letting out,
“Wait!” You almost shouted. “Can we dine tomorrow as well?” He nodded at you.
“I’d be delighted and honoured if you’d join me for all my meals. Your books are welcome too.” He gestured at the open book at your side.
“Thank you,” you told him. With that he left the room. Mrs Potts and Plumette were on bandage duty as they were removing them once and for all on that day. You smiled to yourself glad that the meal went okay. You stood quickly and headed towards the kitchen so that you might talk with the staff, something you felt like you hadn’t done in a while before you arrived at your bed.
With the Beast fully healed, he could now venture outside. However, he insisted that you and he read together each day. It was mainly just you reading and him listening but in all honesty you weren’t complaining. You were glad to have someone who finally understood your love of books and the fact that you could discuss them with him. Although your discussions usually turned into arguments over whose book or theory was better. Eventually, despite the joy of reading to him, you told him that you had to go outside to get some fresh air. He resisted but eventually you came to a compromise. He would go outside only if you’d read to him still. You had agreed to his condition, so whenever you went outside you took a small book of poetry with you, so that you weren’t weighed down by a larger, heavier book.
When you walked with him, you found it hard to focus on the words on the page as you kept getting distracted by the beauty of the grounds. The rose garden that started all of this ordeal was even more beautiful during daylight, whilst the sun glimmered on the frost formed on them. The most breath-taking sight was the view from the bridge over the lake. The lake shimmered like glass and the snow covered trees looked so frail and dainty from where you stood. You were reading a poem whilst on the bridge before you heard the beast mumble “Beautiful.”
“It is, isn’t it?” You said referencing the scenery despite the fact that the Beast had only been looking at you for the last hour and nothing else. With your comment, however, he looked away from you; soaking in all the beauty of his grounds.
“Well, yes.” He said breathlessly. “It’s like I’m seeing it for the first time.” You stood side by side admiring the view before he looked at you. “Is there anymore?” He asked whilst gesturing at the small book of poems in your hand. You smiled and once again began reading the poem.
“…for still here I be.” You finished and you stared up at him, smiling. His eyes, his striking blue eyes were alive with an emotion you couldn’t identify. You stared for a long time before you seemed to realise, along with him, that you had been staring at each other for far longer than what was considered normal. You both looked away hastily and once again began to walk through the grounds, you reciting poems with the Beast ignoring everything but you.
From then on, you went outside with the Beast every day. Mostly it was you reading to him but on some occasions you’d simply talk about anything. After each trip you’d both settle by the fire in the library where you’d read to him again, only now, he joined in with voices for certain characters he agreed to be. It was comfortable and you secretly enjoyed the moments alone with him (bar seeing him eat as his lack of manners and bad eating habits were driving you up the wall). You spent your evenings after dinner with the staff in the kitchen where you spent time talking about general things along with indulging them with a bit of dining dancing and for Chip alone, the small rubber ball that you played catch with until he needed to sleep. It was turning out that being in the castle was turning from being one of the worst things to one of the best.
Père Robert was having the worst time of his life. He’d travelled to practically every village and town in the province and he still had not found you. Not a single soul had heard or seen of you and now, he was terrified. Low on supplies, sleep and money, he had begrudgingly started to head back to Villeneuve. He knew that his absence along with yours would be noted especially by Gaston. He sighed and let out a scream of frustration. He was a desperate man now, panic and worry overcoming his senses. Desperate men draw on desperate measures and he was dreading the measures and requests he’d have to do once he got back to the provincial town he called home.

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Adventures of Bree & Alex - Part 3

The stones were far larger than what Bree had expected. Tall, intimidating. She hadn’t thought about what would happen once they arrived at the stones. Her brain had skipped the process of questioning how they would travel or what it would be like.

Mama had only told them she touched the center stone, and woke up in a different century.

But what if it didn’t work? What if they came all this way, only to find out their mother was delusional and their fa… and Frank was a gullible asshole?

Alex walked up beside Bree, taking in the surrounding stones. “Wow. I understand now why there’s legends about this place. It’s eerie, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it really is.”

It was a dark, cloudy day. The chill in the air along with the slight breeze only added to the tension that was rising up inside Bree. She was sure Alex could feel it as well. He had crossed his arms and was standing unusually tall for being the more timid of the two. It looked like Bree would have to take the lead on this, before they changed their minds.

“Well, I guess there’s no point in just standing around. You ready to do this?”

“Not really. But I’m not turning back now without trying. Here’s your bag.” Alex handed Bree’s satchel over to her, securing it over her shoulders.

“We’ll have to touch it at the same time. Just to be on the safe side.”

“Okay. You remember when we’re going back to, right?”

“1766,” Bree stated.

“Good. He should be in Edinburgh. We’ll need to find two horses. It’ll take us a day or two to ride to Edinburgh; four or five if we have to walk. You have everything we need?”

“I think so. I’ve got the map, money for the horses. The food and blankets are in your bag.”

“You think we’ll blend in enough with these clothes?” Alex inquired, looking down at his outfit.

The woman at the costume store had dressed them in what she described as “the most accurate styles for the 18th Century”. Alex was in a white shirt, a dark brown vest with matching breeches and a navy blue jacket. Bree, who objected entirely throughout getting dressed, had on a white shift and stays, with a dark green bodice and petticoat.

“We better or I’m coming back through the stones and giving that old lady a good ass kicking.”

When growing up, the pair had always been very close, although their personalities differed greatly. Bree was outgoing - strong minded, and happy to let you know she was. Alex was more reserved, happy to just go with the flow. He prefered to avoid confrontation at all costs.

“Well, come on Alex. Let’s get this show on the road.” Bree reached down and grabbed her brother’s hand. Walking closer to the center stone, the twins felt the winds begin to pick up.

“Holy shit. Do you hear that?” Bree turned her head, listening to whatever Alex had picked up on. That’s when she heard it. I high pitched whistling noise, like a train off in the distance.

“If this isn’t paranormal, mystical shit, I don’t know what is,” Bree mumbled, trying to cover her fear in nonchalance.

With each step they took toward the stone, the winds picked up and the louder the whistling became. Once within arms reach, they stopped and looked at each other, still holding hands. Bree wasn’t sure if she was holding his hand to steady him, or to steady herself.

“On the count of three?” Alex asked, sounding stronger than Bree had thought he would.

“On the count of three,” she confirmed.

Alex started, “One.”

“Two.” Reaching out with their inactive hands, the tips of their fingers nearing the stone.

“Three!” the twins shouted, holding back their fears and reservations, and lunging to the stone.


Part Two, Chapter Five: Raigmore.

Last time, on A Child of the Stones…

Jamie sent Claire and Julia (aka Faith) thru the standing stones of Craigh na Dun. Claire returned to her own time empty handed, believing Julia to have stayed with Jamie and died in the hours before Culloden. Upon being reunited with her husband, she discovers that Julia had not, in fact, done so. This is troublesome as Claire visited Julia’s grave at Lallybroch in 1968. Jamie asserts that no such grave exists, meaning Julia would return to her ancestral home and be buried there sometime between then (1766) and 1968.

How is this possible? Where and when had she gone?

You can find links to previous chapters here.

April 16th, 2007, 7:45pm; Raigmore Hospital, Inverness, Scotland.
Nurse Katie Campbell.

“Abandoned toddler found in Cairngorms National Park by hiker. Unresponsive. Requesting immediate evac to Raigmore Hospital from St Vincent’s.”

The foundling had, of course, been granted permission and arrived post-haste in Inverness ten minutes ago in critical condition.

“She was wearing this?” I nudged the plastic bag containing the clothing the little girl had been found in, an audible squish coming from the soggy outfit. Homespun dress, knit sweater, and cloth nappy had all been hand made along with her crudely fashioned leather shoes.

“Aye, an’ a’ the top o’ Craigh na Dun, no less,” an orderly added.

I rolled my eyes. Granny Fiona had told my siblings and I stories of people and fairies that traveled thru the stones, but I’d never believed them to be anything but what they were: stories.

“Ye ken the standin’ stones o’ Craigh na Dun, don’t ye? ‘Tis an unlucky place, to be sure, Nurse Campbell.” he warned

The head matron snorted in derision behind me, “Dinna listen to Gavin, Katie, lass. He’s full o’ the auld tales.”

“Aye, that I be, Auntie,” Gavin grinned and shrugged, winking cheekily at her. “But who do ye suppose told ‘em to me?”

“Get on wi’ ye,” she shooed him away while trying her best not to smile.

11:30 pm

The Pediatric Intensive Care Unit, PICU for short, was quiet tonight. I sat and held her hand as I watched her irregular heartbeat on the monitor. The room was dark and silent around us.

A sudden creak of the mattress made me jump.

Still unconscious, it hadn’t been the child. I looked to the foot of the bed and my blood ran cold.

There, sitting and holding the little girl’s other hand, was a woman I had never seen before in my life. Her clothes were as strange as the child’s had been, a green bodice and skirt made up in an ancient fashion. A breeze that I didn’t feel stirred the curls around her shoulders and I knew in an instant that she wasn’t really here.

Before I could figure out what on earth to say, she turned to me and spoke. “Please,” she begged, her voice melodic and almost otherworldly. “Save my baby.”

I simply nodded, unsure of how to respond to a request from a ghost.

The figure bent over the child and placed a kiss on her cheek, tucking the little girl’s auburn curls behind her ears. With this loving caress from her mother, the child’s heart rate became stronger and her eyelids flickered.

“Her name is Julia,” the woman whispered as she stood. Then, looking at me, asked, “You’ll take care of her for me, won’t you?”

“I will,” I vowed without hesitation.

2:00 am

“Julia?” The head matron repeated dubiously.

I shrugged, realizing how strange I must sound, “Call it mother’s intuition, but I think that’s her name.”

“Ye aren’t a mam, lass…” A slow grin spread across the woman’s face. “Unless this is yer way of tellin’ me somethin’.”

“No!” I shook my head, warmth spreading across my cheeks. “It’s just that I feel a sort of connection to her. She doesn’t have anyone, you know?”

“Aye, I ken, poor bairn. Just dinna get too attached to the wee thing.” She patted my shoulder as I left the nurse’s station and headed to my car.

10:00 am

Bzzzz. Bzzzz. Pause. Bzzzz. Bzzzz.

I knocked the phone off the bedside table in my haste to silence it. Sliding halfway off the bed, I snatched it off the floor and glared at the screen.

Six unread messages. Three from the Head Matron, my boss, and three from Gracie, my best friend and fellow nurse at the hospital.

Good Lord, they knew I wasn’t on call, right? I was just there and would be again in a matter of hours. What was so important that it couldn’t wait four more hours?

I scrolled thru the texts on my lock screen, still able to read them in the order received.

9am- HM- Yer bairn is awake.

9:15am- Gracie- OMG she’s so PRECIOUS

9:30am- HM- Any chance ye could come in early?

9:40am- Gracie- paging baby whisperer


10:00am- HM- Need you STAT

“Shit,” I muttered as I hit the button to call my boss.

“How soon can ye be here?” were the first words out of her mouth.

I yanked on my scrubs and ran towards the door, “Be there in ten!”

Fifteen minutes later.

Julia’s screams welcomed me as I pushed open the PICU doors. Thankfully, she was our only patient at the moment and wouldn’t upset any other children, but the sound was quickly tying a knot in the pit of my stomach.

“Katie’s here!” Gracie’s shoulders sagged with relief as she announced my entrance.

“What have you tried to get her to settle?” I asked, looking over my shoulder while I quickly washed my hands.

She sighed, “More like wha’ havena we tried.”

I grinned and winked at her.

I had a good track record of calming young children down when our tried and true methods failed, earning me the nickname of Baby Whisperer. It was a bit of a misnomer, though, as I was as normal as could be with infants.

Julia sat upright in bed, her cheeks red with the exertion of screaming bloody murder. A frazzled nurse looked up as I approached, giving me a thankful smile.

I greeted the distraught child in a sing song voice while still a good distance from her. Her head snapped in my direction and I continued speaking, switching to Gaelic for something new to distract her.

Much, a eudail, chan eil caoineadh.”  Shh, darling, don’t cry.

Eyes wide and suddenly silent, she stretched out her arms to me. I swept her onto my lap as I sat down on the bed. She took a deep, shuddering breath and melted into me.

“That’s the way.” I praised. Humming, I rubbed her back in gentle strokes until she was at last completely calm. I shifted her in my arms so she could see my face and smiled down at her, “You are such a brave girl, a leannan.”

Her dark lashes blinked slowly as she studied me, quite serious. A tentative hand reached out and patted my cheek as if in thanks.

I took it in mine and kissed it, warranting me a shy smile from the little girl who would quickly become my everything.

The Halloween Party (part 3)
  • <p> <b><p></b> <b><b></b> Draco: Granger.<p/><b>Hermione:</b> Malfoy. (Dressed in a dress with a tight green and black sequined bodice and semi-sheer skirt embroidered with green apples. If she moves the apples ripple.)<p/><b> Draco:</b> Apples? Really? It's like you're expecting someone to bite you.<p/><b>Hermione:</b> I don't expect you to.<p/><b>Draco:</b> So who are you expecting to bite you?<p/><b>Hermione:</b> Only one person.<p/><b>Draco:</b> *literally inagines a faceless person biting Hermione* 😠 Who?<p/><b>Hermione:</b> He's a Slytherin. So definitely not you. *points at his red tie* But if it's any consolation, he has the same hair and scowl as you have.<p/><b>Draco:</b> *transfigures his red tie to a green one*<p/><b>Draco:</b> Granger, is this him? *smirks*<p/><b>Hermione:</b> I think so. The smirk is definitely his.<p/><b>Draco:</b> Good. Dance with me.<p/></p><p/></p><p/></p>

shieldmaidenofsherwood  asked:

2, 3, 8, 10, 28, 30 for the cosplay ask 😊

2. What was your first cosplay?

Tauriel was my first cosplay, both as a makeshift one and as one I sewed on my own.  I still have the green coat and crappy bodice from my makeshift Tauriel.  It’s fun to look at from time to time.

3. What are your next 3 cosplay plans?

Tuor from the Silmarillion

King George from Hamilton

Belle from Beauty and the Beast (yellow dress cartoon design)

8. Do you have any favorite cosplayers?

I have to first and foremost mention

Her actual blog was amazingly detailed for her Tauriel costumes.  Very photo heavy and lengthy explanations.  It was so thorough, that I actually started to gain enough confidence to possibly make my own Tauriel costume.  So, her blog was the catalyst for me to learn to sew and start cosplaying for real.  And she’s very lovely and kind.

@rattle-and-burn Has amazingly beautiful detail work, and her construction is always flawless.  I’ve admired especially her elf costumes for a hot minutes.

@arkadycosplay Makes the most ostentatious, monstrous pieces that are absolutely amazing.  I want everything she makes, and she is cute as a button and so sweet.

@houkakyou is able to make anything out of anything.  She just whips costumes up out of thin air, and does all these gorgeous original designs, and is so incredibly encouraging.

@selfmadecosplay practically hands sews everything she makes.  Such beautiful pieces, and she tries to be as historically accurate as possible, since that is her love. She is so friendly and kind too; my first actual cosplay friend.

@downencreativestudios makes amazing things.  Just amazing.  And she can do it all.  Patterning, construction, props.  Just so cool.

There’s so many more

10. I answered this one in my previous ask! :)

28. Do you prefer to buy or make cosplays?

I love making things, and when I’m not working on something, I’m going crazy with boredom, but honestly if I had unlimited money to commission people for extremely accurate cosplays, I would buy all this shit.  The reason I started to sew was because all the Tauriel costumes weren’t as screen accurate as I wanted, and ones that were kinda acceptable were over $1000.  But even at that, I still really love making my costumes and have a huge amount of pride in my work.

30. What is your ultimate dream cosplay?

This changes constantly.  Every time I think of a new one, I complete it, or I work on something that shows I have enough skill to attempt it which makes it less of a dream and more of an eventuality. I suppose my current dream cosplay is Dany’s black coat from the beginning of this past season of Game of Thrones.  It’s the one with the dragon scale rhinestones and all kinds of other embellishments on the shoulders.  I love that and all the textures, but I’m also not a massive GoT fan, so I don’t know if I’d ever do it, I just want that coat. 

“Marcus,” she whispered, and felt the grip of his strong hands tighten against her almost involuntarily – one clasping her own, the other so warm she could feel it through the stiff green silk of her bodice.

“If we are not Mr. Kane and Mrs. Griffin to one another while we are dancing,” he said in a low voice, unable to look at her, “I fear I do not know what may happen.”

“You appear to think of Christian names as very dangerous things,” she observed.

“Not the names themselves, but the intimacy they signify.”

“We were children together.  We have known one another all our lives.  You were the best man at my wedding and godfather to my child.  Addressing me as ‘Mrs. Griffin’ does nothing to efface that intimacy.  It is stitched into every piece of our lives.”

“Maybe not.  But it does offer me what is becoming an increasingly necessary reminder that you still wear another man’s ring on your hand.”

- from ‘The Woman In Red’ by ChancellorGriffin

shoutout to ChancellorGriffin for not only writing so much amazing kabby fanfic, but also for consistently satisfying my need for Marcus and Abby in period costume :P


4 hours, two x-men movies, and lots of pauses to watch mystique being badass. I give you: the complete and beautifully lined bodice to Bani’s tunic! There is gonna be more boob in this outfit than I expected, oops XD but other than that it all went according to plan and I am very pleased! Next time I have a weekend free to sew I will finish up the skirt tail, and after that everything is just decorative. I’ve got loads of teal beads that need to go places and leather for bracelets…and of course, the beard. And the hairpiece, which broke as we were drilling it and is currently in glue-and-vise therapy. Ah, crafting :)