Leith Illustration ✨Projects & Inspiration✨

I got a comment on a fic that is less than a year old and it was mostly an apology for being a comment on an "old fic" and how late they were in commenting.

Fandom is not trends.

Fandom is a cross between a library and having a slumber party with your friends.

Happy Pride! ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

The whole gang made it out to pride this year and what better way to celebrate queer joy than with a proposal? Baz planned the entire thing, including the amazing speech he promptly forgot in the thrill of the moment. That's okay. Simon said yes before Baz could even get any words out anyway.

(Close-ups of details below the cut because I am SO proud of everything I made!)

Stitch Sunday

School is out for the summer!!! I cannot wait to spend every single day doing *whatever* I want. And by whatever, I clearly mean several different stitch projects, so without further ado...

PRIDE! If you didn't get a chance to see it yet, check out my pride post. These are some of my favorite outfits I've ever made, although they required lots of trial and error. For Simon, I'd never made overalls before, and my faux jean material didn't look as good as I'd hoped. So, after making the entire thing (pictured left) I decided I needed real jean material (pictured right). I ended up sacrificing my oldest and most worn pair for the redo. It is VERY difficult to work with full-weight denim at this scale, but I think it was worth it.

You can also see from Baz's position that dressing him was difficult as well. The fabric I selected for his shorts has no give, so I had to re-engineer my pattern to make them fit. While I was going above and beyond, I decided to add a magnet inside his hand so he could actually hold the little ring box I created for him (the base of the box is a magnet as well).

FUTURE PROJECTS I've also started working on several upcoming projects, including Simon's birthday post. Here's a small preview of one of the dolls involved in that... and my first doll in heels! (She required special tip-toe feet!)

While we are previewing shoes, this is a periodic reminder that although I have learned how to make nearly everything my dolls wear (and I am starting to make most of their photo props as well), I am still not a tiny cobbler. I have a few reliable vendors for shoes, but sometimes, I'm searching for a specific look and will contact someone new. Despite asking for measurements and doing tons of research, the product doesn't always fit. I hold on to all the too small or too big shoes anyway, in case I can use them later... and later has finally arrived for three sets of too-tiny shoes! I'm using these in a top secret project for later this month---can you guess who will be wearing each pair?

Thank you @monbons for the tag today.

For those interested, you’ll be happy to know Picket Fences has been turned over to the wonderful @aristocratic-otter for betaing and I’m refraining from sharing any of those sentences as we’re so close to the end. So. Close.

In the meantime I’ve been working on Questions We Don’t Ask, those sentences I feel good about sharing. Though who knows what will stay and what will go after editing. Certainly not me. But, enjoy!

“How long?”

“Since my reunion,” I answer honestly because what more have I got to lose? And because I feel the need to rationalize the whole ordeal, “We didn’t intend for this to happen.”

“No one ever does,” Fiona says with a shake of her head. “But all the things that happen after are well fucking intended.”

The waiter brings us another round of drinks, clearly recognizing our need for a numbing agent.

I’ve also started another ill-advised Hollanov Fic because, why not? But I’m not ready to share those sentences yet.

...and then, I have nature and art and poetry, and if that is not enough, what is enough?

Vincent van Gogh

At the start of my employment, my boss showed me videos of people stealing, and we both had a chuckle about it. How silly they were! There was a camera overhead, and it’s not to watch the shoppers. See, we can’t actually stop shoplifters. They get away with it maybe nine out of ten times. But we, who are watched and tallied and witnessed? We are always caught.

At first it was hard to hold one hundred dollars bills. An amount I had never seen before. An amount that didn’t exist in my household. It’s normal now. Here is something that is not for me.

“What the hell, I’ll take another,” says the man, pondering our 200 dollar watches. What the hell. Total comes to 580 and not even a flinch in his face. I have been working for 11 hours today and made only 110 dollars. It will go to my rent. Today I work for free, it feels. When I get my check, I will have 35 dollars left for food and saving.

The six hundreds he hands me go into the cash register. For a moment, I imagine having money. Then I put it away, counting out his change.

I know for a fact we sell our products for double what they are worth. That I could be making commission. That they could hand me those 580 dollars and change my life and not even mark the difference in their checkbooks. He’s not the only sale they make today, but I am the reason they made it. He’s not the only one spending 600 dollars, but if I hadn’t spent two hours with him telling me about his life, he wouldn’t have spent any. I go home. I don’t own a watch.

I have watched and rewatched a video on how to make salmon four ways. My shopping list is always the same. Pasta. Rice. Tuna. If I can afford butter it was a good week. I dream of the world I will never walk in, where I can throw the best fish fillet in the cart with a shrug. I hold hundreds in my hand and look up at the camera. I put them under the cash drawer.

I go to work. I scrap together my savings. I eat my bowl of rice slowly. My manager takes a paid week off from work just for his birthday. He owns a yacht. 

i was part of their college program. i moved to the state for it. they legally owned the building i was living in and still charged me rent. i ostensibly was being charged to work for them. it was a 2 bedroom apartment and they placed 6 adult women in it in forced triples.

as many as one in ten disney employees have experienced homelessness while working for the company. despite huge efforts to unionize, strike, or otherwise demand fair treatment; disney has refused to increase employee quality of life.

disney admits publicly that a good portion of their success is because the employees (“cast members”) are dedicated, passionate, and selfless. this is never reflected in pay. even “face” characters (ie those that are princesses etc) make barely above a minimum wage.

at the time that i worked there, i made $8.50 an hour. at one point i was asked to create a human shield around a bag because a bomb dog had alerted to it. for eight fucking dollars an hour.

i now work a very cushy office job. i have bought the salmon and cooked it all four ways.

i go to the store. i am nice to the person behind the counter. she looks up at the camera while she counts out my change. there is nothing fundamentally different about her and i.

Light my way

Springfest is here! @springfest-rote

This is the art I made to compliment the amazing fic written by @bird-brain99 which you can find ----> here