A little dress up video. A lot of n people ask what to wear when stealthing in a corset. Well I scored this fun super wide dress at the Hema and it looks awesome with a corset and a belt.
Bra: Prima Donna
Underskirt and dress from the Hema
Corset by me : Skeletons in the Closet Corsetry. Style: longline with spoonbusk. It is 7 years old already, so it shows some wear.
Burgundy Tights from the Action.
And for the hp fans yes you may have spotted a time turner. ^^ #corsetry #tightlacing #corsetmaking #gothic #victorian #fashion #handmade #plussize #curves #blonde
Summary: Mystic Messenger Fantasy AU. You’re one of the most respected knights in King Han’s kingdom until a horrible incident leaves you with a missing eye, a dead best friend, and a curse on your body that grants you tremendous power while driving you steadily insane. Desperate, distressed, and feeling like a worthless failure, you embark on a suicidal mission of unrestrained heroism, leaving your life behind as you try to make something of yourself before you die.
Zen, for that matter, although it’s more.. for
you than at you as he puts
himself between you and a very, very irritable guard with a sword in defense of
(what is up with this dude???)
quickly approaching your ‘snap-and-freak-out’ point when Jumin – using his royal decree voice – tells everyone to
sit down and shut the fuck up. He strides forward, pushing past his guard and
as he stares down Zen (who remains directly and stubbornly in his path.)
care if you’re a king or a prince or whatever, you’re not
hurting her,” Zen glowers at him, and it’s then that you’re completely certain
that Zen is insane.
an eyebrow, and damn that doesn’t mean good things for the man in front of you.
“She is my friend, and I would ask that you stand aside and let me speak to
apparently, has a bone to pick with Jumin as he says he’s not letting this ‘emotionless
freak’ anywhere near you. Jumin retorts by saying that, unlike Zen, he actually
knows you and is therefore far more
“I know her
well enough!” Zen shouts, completely and absolutely confusing you.
he met you, like, once. what is he on about.
distracted by a gentle hand on your arm, and you look over to see a very, very
familiar blue head of hair.
And whenever some accident, some fatal event happened, I always thought to myself, “I should not be surprised if that were Erik,” even as others used to say, “It’s the ghost!” How often have I not heard people utter that phrase with a smile! Poor devils! If they had known that the ghost existed in the flesh, I swear they would not have laughed!
Although Erik announced to me very solemnly that he had changed and that he had become the most virtuous of men SINCE HE WAS LOVED FOR HIMSELF—a sentence that, at first, perplexed me most terribly—I could not help shuddering when I thought of the monster. His horrible, unparalleled and repulsive ugliness put him without the pale of humanity; and it often seemed to me that, for this reason, he no longer believed that he had any duty toward the human race. The way in which he spoke of his love affairs only increased my alarm, for I foresaw the cause of fresh and more hideous tragedies in this event to which he alluded so boastfully.
On the other hand, I soon discovered the curious moral traffic established between the monster and Christine Daae. Hiding in the lumber-room next to the young prima donna’s dressing-room, I listened to wonderful musical displays that evidently flung Christine into marvelous ecstasy; but, all the same, I would never have thought that Erik’s voice—which was loud as thunder or soft as angels’ voices, at will—could have made her forget his ugliness. I understood all when I learned that Christine had not yet seen him! I had occasion to go to the dressing-room and, remembering the lessons he had once given me, I had no difficulty in discovering the trick that made the wall with the mirror swing round and I ascertained the means of hollow bricks and so on—by which he made his voice carry to Christine as though she heard it close beside her. In this way also I discovered the road that led to the well and the dungeon—the Communists’ dungeon—and also the trap-door that enabled Erik to go straight to the cellars below the stage.
- Chapter 21: Interesting and Instructive Vicissitudes of a Persian in the Cellars of the Opera, from The Phantom of the Opera, by Gaston Leroux. Illustration by Greg Hildebrandt.