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artistsuniversum: “Kathin Marchenko is a textile artist and designer known for her expressive embroidery on delicate tulle fabric.
Using a "painting with thread" technique, she creates portraits, anatomical forms, and ethereal figures that seem to float within wooden hoops, blending craft with fine art.”
Summary: Reader is a ballerina who has a personal stake in politics for the working class. Having come up from poor roots, she hasn't forgotten the struggle of the working class and uses her spare time and influence to try to push agendas for them. Her efforts catch the eye of Tommy Shelby. And once he sees her dance, he is eager to preserve that beauty for himself.
“We aren’t going to go back right now?” you questioned nervously when Ada announced that she would still like to take you to the restaurant.
“It would be suspicious if I said I was taking you to lunch and you didn’t eat,” Ada pointed out, standing up and snatching her bag off the floor. “Plus, maybe it’ll make Tommy less angry if you bring him back a sandwich or something.”
Polly snorted at that. “Still be quick about it. Don’t drag it out too long.”
“You’re not coming?” Ada asked, pausing.
“No,” Polly shook her head, “Got company coming…”
There was a glint in her eye.
“The painter?” Ada questioned. Polly only finished off her drink, not saying a word. Ada exhaled and looked over at you. “Guess it’s just the two of us then.”
<><><>
Thomas closed the car door behind him, going up the drive to the front door. Johnny stopped outside the car, lighting up a cigarette and staring off over the grounds.
Upon entering the house, Thomas found the entrance hall empty. He slammed the door behind him, trying to catch someone’s attention. One of the maids walked in to greet him, keeping her head down, which he thought was odd. He pulled his cap off, holding it out to her and she took it. His eyes followed her as she also took his coat from him and went to hang both in the coat closet.
“I assume dinner is on schedule?” he asked, breaking the awkward silence.
“Yes, sir,” she answered, her back to him. “Elsie got a fine cut from the butcher and she’s working on cooking it with Sandra.”
Thomas noticed the tenseness in her frame and he faced her fully.
“How’s Y/N? Eat breakfast and lunch?” he questioned. “Or is she sulking?”
Maisie turned around, her face drained of color. Timidly, she said, “I know she ate breakfast, Mr. Shelby. Elsie brought it to her earlier in the morning. Plate was empty when I retrieved it before tea.”
“Didn’t want lunch?”
Maisie looked panicked, not answering him.
Annoyed at the beating around the bush, Thomas demanded, “What?”
Maisie shifted uncomfortably, hands clasped tightly in front of her. “Um. Miss Ada came around…” Thomas’ expression hardened, not liking where this admittance was heading already. “Round 11:30 or so, sir. Made Miss go with her to lunch.” Maisie gulped, her voice even quieter when she said, “They’re not back yet. So… I don’t know if she had lunch, sir.”
Thomas was eerily quiet, eyes piercing her. Maisie averted her eyes, hands wringing slightly. Stalking to her, Thomas remained silent. When he stopped in front of her with purpose, she flinched.
Sucking his teeth, he asked slowly, “You are telling me that my sister came, someone unlocked Y/N’s door – I’m assuming that someone is you since Elsie was gone – and allowed her to waltz out of here unattended? Am I hearing correctly?”
Maisie looked too scared to speak.
“Answer me!” Thomas said sharply.
“Y-yes.”
Thomas rose his eyebrows, scoffing in disbelief, before exploding, “FUCK!”
Maisie winced away from him. “I’m sorry, Mr. Shelby. I couldn’t’ tell Miss Ada no—"
“Fuck!” Thomas roared again, turning around, fists clenched. His chest rose and fell rapidly, staring at nothing, jaw ticking.
He whipped back around, getting in her face. “Where did they go? Answer me!”
“I—” she started to say but the front door banged open and Johnny rushed into the foyer.
He looked quickly between the two, confusion evident. “Tom, I heard shouting—”
“TELL. ME. Where she went!” Thomas shouted at Maisie, ignoring Johnny.
Tears welled up in the corners of Maisie’s eyes and Johnny tried to intervene again, louder this time, “Tom, you’re scaring the girl. What is going on?”
Thomas was not relenting his looming, eyes wild, waiting for her to answer.
“Mr. Shelby, she said – Miss Ada – that she was going to her favorite place,” Maisie blubbered. “I-I assume that’s in Bir—”
“So, not only did you let her leave,” Thomas snarled. “You have no fucking idea where they went?”
Maisie’s lip warbled, hunched in on herself.
“Un-fucking-believable,” Thomas spat, pulling away from her.
“Tom,” Johnny said firmly. “What’s going on?”
Thomas exhaled slowly, trembling, trying to keep himself under control. After a few moments, he said, “Ada came to take Y/N on a trip to have lunch. When I explicitly said she was to stay in her room. All fucking day.”
Johnny cleared his throat, “Well, Tom, it’s just Ada.” Thomas shot him a glare and Johnny pointed out, “She’s probably trying to bond with Y/N. And the poor girl,” meaning Maisie when he gestured at her, “Can’t tell Ada no. Wouldn’t be proper.”
“Why is everyone making excuses?” Thomas asked himself more than anything, giving a scornful laugh.
He stopped the moment he heard a car approaching outside. And did not wait for anyone else before storming out towards the front door. Tossing the door open, he found Ada parking.
<><><>
“He’s home,” you told Ada nervously.
“Well, so are you,” Ada said confidently. “And with his favorite sandwich.”
The front door of the mansion flew open, and you turned your head away quickly to look back at Ada as she parked the car.
“Of course he doesn’t look happy though,” Ada said, less confidence in her voice, sneaking a look over towards the direction of the front door. “Smile, like I told you a joke. Follow me.”
She moved to get out of the car, and you did the same, clutching the bag of food as if it was going to protect you.
When you laid eyes on him, he was almost to you, jaw set and eyes ablaze. His charge slowed as Ada said, “Oh Tommy, you should have seen it. This calf escaped off its pasture down the road and the farmer’s hands trying to corral it off the road was hilarious. I’ve never seen a cow move that fast. When did you get back?”
Thomas’ eyes were moving between the two of you, looking immensely distrustful. He was calculating, that much you could see. You did your best to keep a calm expression on your face.
Ada looked at him expectantly when he did not answer. “You alright?”
“About 15 minutes ago,” he finally answered.
“Hmm, almost perfect timing,” Ada commented lightly. “Took Y/N to Birmingham. Out to lunch. And she’s so sweet. Asked what you liked most and we got it for you.”
You took the cue and held out the bag to him.
Thomas looked down at the bag before taking it from you. He peeked inside and you said, “Should still be a little chill.”
He was silent again, staring into the bag and your hope that this would placate him was beginning to dwindle.
That is until he looked back up and smiled tightly, “Thanks, love. I’m sure it’ll be fine.” He held out his hand, and you took it. His grip was tight, latching on and you hid a wince. “Well, Ada, thank you for bringing her back. I’m sure it was a fun outing.”
“Did you think I was gonna leave her on the street?” Ada snorted. She held up a finger and then said, “I did bring some port to go with dinner.”
She went back to the car to fetch it.
Thomas said tightly, “I’m not sure the staff prepared enough food for more than the two of us.”
“Well, good thing Y/N brought you that,” Ada said over her shoulder as she leaned into the backseat to grab the bag. Thomas licked his lips angrily and shot you a look. You reactively shrugged as Ada came back over. “I’m sure you’d be happy to share your portion with me. I am the youngest after all.”
“Right,” Thomas muttered, turning and pulling you with him.
You did not miss the way Ada watched him tug you along.
<><><>
“So, what was so important in London today?” Ada asked, bringing her spoon of soup up to her lips.
“Had some bill to look over in person the Torys wrote. Edited it. But, I was recruiting,” Thomas answered and she cocked her head in curiosity. “Needed a new assistant in the office at work. Actually, went to Y/N’s friend, Henry, to offer the job.”
You almost dropped your spoon. Ada to her credit, kept her face neutral.
“H-Henry?” you stammered. “He’s not got office experience.”
“He’s got stage-hand experience. That's a lot of management,” Thomas returned. He ashed his cigarette before taking a drag. “And being as he doesn’t care much for politics, it’s perfect because he won’t babble to reporters or the other side of the aisle. Plus, with him recovering from his accident, he needs something less strenuous than dancing and heavy lifting of equipment, right?”
Your mind was racing, trying to figure out Thomas’ angle. Was he trying to make it up to you that he had beaten the life out of Henry?
Shrugging when you realized you had not answered, you said, “I mean, I… suppose?”
“Thought it was the nice thing to do. You care about him so much,” Thomas returned, eyes locked on you. “So troubled when he was hurt.”
No, you did not think it was an attempt to make amends with his words and the way he was looking at you.
“I was,” you admitted. “He didn’t deserve it.”
Thomas’ smile did not meet his eyes. “Well, the government pays better than the theater too.”
“Kind of you Tommy,” Ada cut in. Thomas turned his attention to her, and she took another spoonful of soup. After swallowing, she added, “Surely you need to go back and train him on how to do things though? You didn’t just throw him to the wolves.”
You saw the wheels turning in her head already, how to get him back out of the house. She was as clever as Thomas was.
“There is another assistant to help him along. But I’m sure I’ll need to train him to do things the way I like them,” Thomas responded and you tensed. He looked back at you and said, “I also stopped by your landlord. Paid the rent but let them know we would be moving your things out within the next month. We’ll need to make a trip to go through your things.”
You opened your mouth to argue but remembered you were playing the long game.
“Right,” you said instead compliantly. “Of course.”
Thomas' eyes did glisten with amusement this time when he smiled at you.
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yeah yeah rainbow capitalism is bad and whatever but like. when I was a child, being pro gay was not the popular or lucrative choice. I'm happy that times have changed.
I miss rainbow capitalism. I do. I miss when it felt like public opinion was still pro gay. I understand it was always an empty gesture, but it mattered in a sense of knowing how socially acceptable being queer is. If that makes sense.
I feel like I need to share this because idk if Europeans are familiar with the presence of Aldi in the US, but at least especially in my area they’ve been growing a lot recently. Like Aldi bought out some local failing grocery chains where I live (Louisiana) and have opened Aldis in all these somewhat rural communities and small towns, which for the record I’m fine with
But as a result of this they are advertising a lot more in my area and also in many cases, the people in these areas have never been confronted with Aldi or any European grocery store. So the ads that Aldi is pushing out to its new US customer base feature a cowboy shopping at Aldi who is explaining to new Aldi customers how Aldi works. Like this cowboy is explaining you gotta put a quarter in the shopping cart and why there are very little name brands. A cowboy is how they want to reach their American customer base. They gave us a cowboy
rocky always yells “enrichment for grace! enrichment for grace!” when he has a new invention to make the humans time more interesting on erid. grace, while appreciative, replies ‘I know I’m in a zoo enclosure but could we maybe not call it that? I feel like a bear getting thrown a pumpkin covered in peanut butter.’ rocky simply gives him a thumb, not wanting to explain that a significant amount of the population sees grace as the celebrity savior scientist who rocky keeps as a controversially young trophy wife and publicly lavishes in gifts
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"Why did Stratt pick a school teacher" — because my guy can frankenstein Venus out of plywood, some duct tape and a dream. "I'm not qualified" — buddy, you have scientific background and the resourcefulness of someone who is used to having zero budget. I love this specific part of the plot that is "let's take the guy who can problem-solve things with zero money and give him unlimited budget and see what happens".
its on Erid, long after Grace and Rocky figure out how to hug and snuggle. Eridians dont really do full hugs like humans because then you can hear everyone's internal organs that close so its a little weird, maybe tapping/hand holding is the usual affection. Everyone assumes the constant cuddling is purely for Grace's human needs benefit, and while Grace obviously does love and need the touch, Rocky being driven to space madness and having every form of ptsd means he is equal if not more in need of constant full body hugs because he likes feeling how alive Grace is.
So random Eridian scientists are talking to Grace and are like, absolutely no disrespect intended, but very interesting Rocky overcame the cultural weirdness and sensory disgust of "hugs" and does them despite no benefit to himself because he cares for your needs! Its sweet!
Grace: actually Rocky freaks out if he cant press himself against my lungs and heart through the thinnest xenonite possible until he can hear every muscle cell in my body moving at least once a day.
Scientist: ok cool so hes kind of a total pervert then okay
“Cook at home to save money” sounds all well and good until you get a little too into it and suddenly you’re bookmarking recipes that call for The Preserved Grace of God and that shit is $13 at the specialty store
#in my experience the tipping point isn't the preserved grace of god but - well. when you start branching out into other food cultures. #suddenly you've got to source the grace of god and also the mercy of allah and also a jewish conception of repentance #that's really only sold at small local grocers. and then you're trying to translate websites written in bengali or cantonese #and attempting to figure out whether you can use butter instead of ghee to achieve dharma. #don't even get me into woks vs. censers. (via @notbecauseofvictories)
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