#custom made cashmere sweaters

[pinkpineappleshop]

Women’s Quality Custom-Made Cashmere Sweaters Sale Online

Cashmere sweaters are a sign of class in fashion wear because cashmere wool is expensive. They are soft and comfortable also give you a great look. At Pink Pineapple Shop, we have a wide selection of the latest designer custom-made cashmere sweaters for women. We also offer printed cashmere sweaters available in different sizes and colors. Visit our website.

[sweaterproducer]

alpaca sweater producers,bespoke knitted jumpers uk

sweater maker https://sweaterchina.net

Email: kintsweatermaker@gmail.com

alpaca sweater producers,bespoke knitted jumpers uk Cardigan sweater production factories，Cardigan sweater production factories,Cardigan sweater production,Cardigan sweater Production factor，Cardigan sweater Production factory，Cardigan sweater production Factory complex，Cardigan sweater production Factory floor，Cardigan sweater Production factory in china，cardigan sweater Production factory in chinese，Cardigan sweater production factory,Cardigan sweater bespoke Factory complex，Cardigan sweater Production in china，Cardigan sweater Production in chinese，Cardigan sweater production in chinese,Cardigan sweater Factory complex，Cardigan sweater production Manufacturing enterprise，Cardigan sweater production Manufacturing facility，Cardigan sweater production Manufacturing plant，Cardigan sweater production Manufacturing plant，alpaca sweater producers，bespoke knitted jumpers uk cachemire sexy sweater Factory complex https://sweaterchina.net/cachemire-sexy-sweater-factory-complex/ alpaca sweater producers，bespoke knitted jumpers uk Cardigan sweater manufacture Factory floor，Cardigan sweater production Processing factory，Cardigan sweater production Processing factory,Cardigan sweater Factory floor in china,Cardigan swea，Cardigan sweater production Processing plant，Cardigan sweater production Production，Cardigan sweater production Production factory，Cardigan sweater production Production,Cardigan sweater odm Processing factory,Cardigan sweater prod，cardigan sweater school uniform sweater，cardigan sweater service，cardigan sweater sets for ladies，cardigan sweater sets plus size，cardigan sweater sets women，cardigan sweater sleeveless，cardigan sweater sorority，alpaca sweater producers，bespoke knitted jumpers uk women’s cardigans Manufacturing plant https://sweaterchina.net/womens-cardigans-manufacturing-plant/ alpaca sweater producers，bespoke knitted jumpers uk cardigan sweater streetwear oem，cardigan sweater tanpa lengan，cardigan sweater taylor swift，cardigan sweater turtleneck，cardigan sweater vest for men，cardigan sweater vest men，cardigan sweater vest outfit men，cardigan sweater wholesale striped，cardigan sweater with belt，cardigan sweater with button on sleeve，cardigan sweater with jeans，cardigan sweater with pearls，cardigan sweater with tie men，cardigan sweater women 1x，cardigan sweater women 2x，cardigan sweater women belts，cardigan sweater women chanel mickey，cardigan sweater women karen scott，cardigan sweater women large new，cardigan sweater women summer，alpaca sweater producers，bespoke knitted jumpers uk cricket sweater Producer https://sweaterchina.net/cricket-sweater-producer/ alpaca sweater producers，bespoke knitted jumpers uk cardigan sweater women v neck big size，cardigan sweater women xl，cardigan sweater womens korean，cardigan sweater womens korean with pockets，cardigan sweater womenwomen cardigan sweatersweater cardiganwomen sweater cardiganladies cardigan sweater，cardigan sweaters at amazon，cardigan sweaters at walmart，cardigan sweaters factory，cardigan sweaters fashion button down，cardigan sweaters for girls size 7，cardigan sweaters for men，cardigan sweaters for men 3xl，cardigan sweaters for men 6x，cardigan sweaters for men amazon，cardigan sweaters for men at macy's，cardigan sweaters for men big and tall

[afreakingdork]

Crush Too Much - Part 20

RotTMNT Donatello x GN!Reader

Warnings: Longing, Angst, Fluff, Embarrassment, Overbearing Siblings, Aged-up Turtles

Synopsis:  So you met a customer three times at work and that made a pretty big impression on you? That’s nothing to necessarily get worked up over, but when you’re all prepared to ask for his number the next time you see him and his brother gets involved instead, you might be in for something more than you bargained for.

FIRST 💜 PREVIOUS

“So…?”

“Need I remind you that you called me?” Donatello huffed. Glancing up, he watched as the last orange hues of the sky were swallowed up by inky purple.

“Oh, I know.” April’s snarky snap crackled through the receiver

“And…?” He mimed her earlier drawl.

“Come on now, I know you know what I’m getting at!”

“That you are calling dangerously close to my meeting time with Y/N to inquire if I am going through with your seemingly bland idea of a walk? Then, yes. I am currently waiting at the Southeast entrance of Central Park. I could send you my coordinates if you are so inclined.” Finally dragging his eyes away from the sky, Donatello perused the gaggle of people milling about. 

“That would be very helpful-No, fool! I’m trying to find out how the last few weeks have been!”

Though he’d never tell her, he always secretly marveled at how April’s tone could shift wildly between words.

“Satisfactory! I recently moved into beta with a new bouncy compound I’ve been working on with Mikey-”

“You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?” April’s voice cut through with a sigh.

“I absolutely am.” He gave a satisfied smile to himself.

“Tell. Me. How. It’s. Going. With. Y/N!” He could hear what he identified as a pen in her hand being clicked with each choppy line.

He debated continuing his petty teasing, but instead turned away from the proverbial crowd. He lingered there, staring into the darkenrd tree line before speaking. “It’s been… good, I believe.”

“Yeah?” Her voice softened as well. He also enjoyed how she could usually read subtle tone. They had always understood each other better than the rest.

“While I’m still unsure of your methods, I see what you meant about enjoying one’s love.”

“Is it fading?”

He paused.

He’d had a million and one thoughts on the matter. They jumbled into a roiling mess that was drowned out by the white noise and sheer elation when he thought of you.

“I would say there hasn’t been an increase or decrease.”

She made a little noise of understanding and for a moment they were both silent.

“Are you happy?”

He didn’t need time to process that one. “Very much so.”

“Good.” April clicked her pen once more and then a shifting squeak of a rolling chair followed. “You deserve that, D.”

“I suppose…” He tilted into the phone.

“Suppose nothing!” She griped. “Did Mikey style you like I asked?”

Shifting on the new line of thinking, he looked down. His typical winter coat was unzipped which seemed terribly inefficient for its functionality. Underneath it, a cashmere black v-neck sweater could be seen beneath the open strip of coat. His trapper hat had been exchanged for a pale purple beanie, but the rest of his winter attire remained unchanged. “Yes, but I don’t see the necessity when a child could have done this.”

“And after I spent my hard earned money on that sweater…” April trailed off in a feigned forlorn manner.

“You bought this?” Donatello reached up and ran a finger over the fabric.

“A little early gift for completing all our tasks.”

“I do enjoy a fine fabric.” He hummed contentedly.

“Good, sounds like your mentally and physically ready for the final battle then.”

“I doubt it will be anything like that.” He clicked his tongue and turned back to survey his surroundings just in case.

“I think you’ll find everything has been leading up until this moment.” She practically sang the sentence.

“You are the cause for concern at this point.”

“Uh huh, don’t want to keep you longer! Oh, is that my boss? What? There’s a fire at the water factory-!” She rambled out quickly and he could visualize her pulling the phone away to end the call.

“Before you contend with your impossibilities, I have one question.”

“Shoot?” The way her voice came back to the receiver meant his deduction was correct.

“There won’t be any interference on any of your parts, will there?” He narrowed his eyes and scanned the crowd with excruciating care.

“No, Donnie. It’s all you tonight.” Her voice was so earnest, he stopped dead in his sweep.

“I see.” He said lamely.

“Good luck and text me how it went!”

“I’ll queue up ‘we walked and it was fine’ now to save myself the trouble.” He tucked his free hand into his pocket.

“We’ll see how that confidence holds up, bye!” She strung out the last syllable all the way through her voice fading and hanging up.

Donatello rolled his eyes as he watched her contact information time out. Swiping over the time, he then stuffed both his phone and other hand into their respective pocket and continued to survey the crowd. It wasn’t as if the newness to meeting you had worn off, but instead his confidence in not imploding everything had leveled out. It was especially bolstered by his save during the ice rink debacle. He was almost willing to trust his instincts once again. It left his mind free of the usual clutter and, in turn, he felt as though he would enjoy this evening to the fullest. Falling in line with the thought, he spied you coming up off the road.

You were hunkered down into a chunky scarf that was wrapped around your neck and you weren’t looking where you were going. He watched with a itch of anxiety as you narrowly dodged a speed walking pedestrian with your eyes glued to your phone. He was about to call out when he felt his phone ping. A lopsided grin came to his lips as he assumed what the message could be. Unearthing the device he glimpsed the preview from you commenting on your attendance and how many people were around. The smile broadened as he replaced the device and headed straight for you.

You greeted him with a glimpse of your nose poking out above the wrap. “Vigilant as always.”

“It’s part of the job description.” He hummed with appreciation. “You look cozy.”

“We’re gonna be outside for awhile. I had to dress accordingly.” You held out your arms to make the bouncing of your shoulders more prominent. The tightly coiled scarf shuffled, but otherwise didn’t budge. “Speaking of…”

Maybe there had been some necessity.

You reached out and passed him a glance. He nodded amicably and you felt the fabric over his chest.

“That’s nice.” You mused.

“It’s cashmere.” He gave a little flourish and gestured down the path.

“I didn’t realize this was such a luxe occasion.” You tittered, falling in time with his steps.

“It was a gift for celebrating what will hopefully be deemed a job well done.” Through closed eyes, he opened one at you as if it were a sly hint and not a outright statement of his intent.

“We’ll see.” For a moment your genial attitude dropped, but was quickly eclipsed by a bounce in your step.

Figuring it a blunder, he was glad he wasn’t the only one in a jovial mood.

“So, what’s the plan of attack tonight?”

He evaluated the statement, steering towards Center Drive. He debated a litany of responses before settling on the simplest one. “We walk.”

“That’s…” You seemed to turn the simple sentence over. “…it? No crazy surprise? No cake or light show?”

“Yes well, I did fail to mention the mariachi band I hired to follow us along. Unfortunately, they got hung up.” He tilted his head towards you in amusement.

“Dang, Volver Volver would have been a bittersweet match for all this too.” You pulled your hands out of your pocket just long enough to snap before burying them back into warmth.

“Alas.” Donnie murmured.

The two of you walked in comfortable silence, taking in deposits of light bubbled from rows of lamps. There were others out, strolling and running, but otherwise keeping to themselves. Donatello would sneak a glance at your every so often and frequently found you gazing softly at your surroundings. You caught his eye at one point and your smile forced his away. It was like enjoying the best version of a classic; when done right, it’s better than anything you can imagine. The only thing, he decided, that could make the perfect evening better was if he were able to hold your hand. He hadn’t considered himself one to do so for long periods of time as the prolonged connection seemed awkward, but if it were now, he could walk the entire perimeter of Central Park without a care in the world.

“We’re not doing the Loop…” You suddenly spoke as if reading his mind.

“Observant.” He responded dryly.

You shot him a rueful glare. “Did you have a route in mind?”

“We’re heading towards The Mall currently.”

You bobbed with an idea. “It’s gonna be almost empty, isn’t it?”

“I’m certainly not going to tell you before we get there.” He swayed to the side, but kept his feet on course.

“It’s so peaceful.” You sighed comfortably.

He nodded with agreement and the stroll continued. You both watched in amusement as a jogger almost stepped on a rat and stumbled a fair amount of feet without ever falling over. Further down the way, an elderly couple got up from one bench only to shuffle down to sit on the next. Tilting on a curve a group of teenagers belted by in some sort of race out of the park. Closing in on The Mall, a crow, seemingly unaware of the hour, stood in the middle of the walkway and cawed angrily at the passersby.

Hitting the destination proper, Donatello was the next to break the silence. “Not to rush you, but you should have enough information to rate your experience…”

“Can’t go by your usual scale.” You chuckled.

“I don’t see why not.” He feigned a cold shoulder.

You shook your head. “Satisfied or dissatisfied with something like this…” Your steps hitched and then you ran forward, spinning around on the near empty Mall. “It’s not that simple!”

“Indulge me.” He smiled, coming to stop and watching you take large steps in a space that rarely allowed such a move.

“Because our… relationship is so much bigger than just this past month.” You shifted, locking your hands behind your back and walking purposefully forward.

He trailed behind and kept his eyes to you.

“You broke my heart. You confused me to no end. You acted so selfishly at times that I almost hate thinking about it…” You slowed and he mirrored your movements. “You also made me happier than I’ve ever been. You’ve made me laugh harder than I ever have and you’ve shown me things I don’t think I would ever see if I lived this lifetime a hundred times without you.”

He watched as your head tipped back and looked skyward.

The shift hadn't come swiftly, but a gentle dread washed at his feet.

“Did you make it up to me?” You let the question ride the night air.

He stared with bated breath.

“Definition?” You asked another question to the sky, but he could sense it was more pointed.

“To reconcile differences after a fight and become friendly again.” His reply sounded thin to his ears.

“Friendly…” You spoke more softly, but the quiet evening made it easy to hear. “Can I guess who recommended what event first?”

He wasn’t moving, but it felt like every one of his muscles were vibrating. His body was caught by the conufsion of whether any of this strange conversation was cause for concern. “Yes.”

“Can you lay them out for me or should I guess that too?”

He swallowed hard. “Win a gift, geology, crush them, and take a walk.”

You turned incrementally, but not enough for him to see your face. “The skating contest at the rink was the actual plan?”

“Technically, yes.”

“Leo.” You said simply, shaking your head.

“Correct.”

“Jerk.” There seemed a little reprieve to your otherwise somber demeanor. “Unless…”

“He guessed I would lose.”

“Jerk!” You repeated with more fervor.

Despite himself, he smiled.

“I’m gonna stick Mikey with Geology.”

“Is it because he pops up and scares you?”

“You noticed?” You almost turned, but seemed to stop yourself. “Do you know if he does that on purpose?”

“I truly don’t.”

“Was I right?”

“Two for two.”

You gave a puff of satisfaction. “Who are the last two?”

“April and Raph.”

You looked down at your feet thoughtfully. “I never did get to meet April.”

The sense of finality to your statement nearly choked him. “I didn’t realize you wanted to.”

“You didn’t? But…” You trailed off and quieted. “I didn’t tell you.”

He couldn’t help but wonder who you had.

“It’s tough because Raph could go either way and he’s the only one I have a read on…”

The simple guessing game felt like it was closing in around him.

You started walking again so he did as well.

“I’m… gonna guess Raph was for winning a prize…?” You seemed unsure.

“Which leaves…?” He urged you to lock in your answer in an attempt to end whatever was happening.

“April decided tonight.” He watched the way your coat moved around your legs as you walked.

“You got them all.”

“I was right?”

“Yes.”

“Wow.”

Silence stretched out in the distance between you both. The soft padding of shoes on pavement was the only sound to be heard.

Exiting The Mall into a grid of planters, you finally slowed and turned to him. “You went above and beyond making up.”

He stilled. The content of the statement should have been a positive, but the tone of your voice said the opposite. From where it had settled in his throat, his heart bottomed out. Any confidence he’d approved earlier in the evening seemed brittle and shattered through his fingertips. Where had he gone wrong again?

“It’s just the problem is-” You swept your eyes up to him and stopped.

For a moment he thought he’d simply fallen through some sort of pocket in space and time.

“Do you hear that?” You swiveled your head past the end of The Mall where the stonework marked the street to Bethesda Terrace.

His ninja training kicked in and he became painfully aware at how small his pocket of awareness was. The sphere of self expanded rapidly as he took extrasensory note of everything in the radius. It oddly included the soft plucks of string.

“Where…?” You trailed off, seemingly entranced and started walking again.

On guard, he glued himself to your side and searched wildly for a threat. Crossing the road, the tip of the fountain and lake came into sight. Feeling particularly vulnerable, Donatello slid a hand into his coat and grasped his telescoped tech-bō.

Reaching the top of the steps, you both halted and looked down at a small ensemble of violinists. Though they were turned toward the fountain, they finished their warm-up and starting playing as if on cue. A sweet melody rose from them and several people milling about slowed to a halt.

“What are they doing this late?” You wondered aloud, your hands gently laying atop the stone fence.

He scanned those who stopped. From the thinned smattering of people dotted around the fountain, he surmised that this wasn’t a planned show. Instead, based on their clothes, it almost seemed as if members of the Philharmonic had randomly gathered. “They’re playing.”

Softening as there seemed to be no perceived threat, he turned his head incrementally to watch you. There wasn’t a trace of worry on your face. Instead, he found a small smile on your lips and a quality of sadness to your eyes. The music seemed to caress him and wind around his arm. He brought it up on command until one of his fingertips just grazed your cheek. You didn’t jolt at the touch, but instead slowly turned into it. His fingers rotated with the action until he was cupping the side of your face. You stared up at him unguarded, but there was still that gloom in your irises. He wanted to wipe it away. He wanted to know what the problem was. He wanted to make everything right.

The music crested and soared.

“Donnie?”

He watched as you blinked and he reflexively traced his thumb over your cheek bone. When your lashes ascended there was molten quality of tenderness in your eyes. His heart stuttered at it. He wanted to examine it further, but almost as soon as it appeared, the look disappeared under that dejected veneer.

He couldn’t figure it out.

He dipped down, coming eye level with you and narrowed his gaze. There had to be a clue. Somewhere. Anywhere.

“You said I went above and beyond?” His voice felt thick as it emerged.

“Too good…” You whispered. There was a flash of that heated look again. Why wouldn't you let it stay?

“Then what could possibly be the problem?” He was on to something. He just knew it.

“Donnie…” It wasn’t really a protest, but you brought your hands up as if you were going to push him away. He readied himself to let go, but your fingers instead hit the cashmere of his sweater and tangled up in the fabric impulsively.

“Can I guess first?” He'd let you go if he just knew.

Your eyes widened.

“It’s because I messed up.” He continued without waiting for your reply.

“Messed up?” Your voice was barely legible amongst the music.

“I said we could be friends.” That was what he agreed upon. That was what he’d resigned himself to. It was also not what he'd meant to say. If only his mouth would just stop moving. If only the ensemble would stop playing. He could still reign it in. He still had the shred of a chance at salvaging this.

“We can’t.” It wasn't a question. So you knew it as well. Then your gaze went and shifted again. He couldn’t quite identify the look, but it seemed to undulate between hope and despair.

Even if he misdiagnosed the emotions, the fact that it nearly mirrored his own is what pushed his lips over the edge. “I think I love you too much to.” Impulsivity was its own form of evil. All he could do was hope the moments suffering from this single decision weren’t as great as his previous had been.

As soon as the words hit your ears, he watched as your breath was stolen away. He swore he could see a thousand fireworks go off in the colored core around your iris. Everything felt bathed in a dreamy faded filter. He dipped in closer, mesmerized by your gaze. Then it happened; the moment he ran from in what felt like a lifetime ago. It might have been unconsciously, but your eyes drifted shut. He watched as your tongue darted out to wet your lips and your head tilted incrementally to the side.

He’d dreamed of having another opportunity.

He'd sworn to not waste it again.

Closing the distance, he captured your lips with his own.

A/N: and with that dear readers, we have only two chapters left 💞

NEXT

[insignificantly-notorious]

No one asks but here are what Jaime and Brienne's would wear if they're in the modern era as I'm scrolling through aimlessly trying to find clothes myself:

BRIENNE: Brinny is a TRUE supporter of local-made clothes. A LOT of vintage shopping involves but with her physic, it's quite hard to find clothes her size so she goes to men's section. Has her dad's hand-me-down buttons ups, If she buys new clothes, it's probably very well made with fabrics like wool and cashmere. Always would buy local too and would spurge on custom suits if she has extra to spend if she isn't buy some random knickknacks-which she always does lol. Most her jewellery are silver and vintage!

A lot of earth tones in her closet and good quality SOCKS! JUMPSUITS! SWEATERS!

JAIME: This mf has no concept of money the only currency in the world that matters is ATTENTION! Jaime would wearing some of the outrageous, loud-logo luxury brands with bright ass colours and he would still looks good cause he's pretty!

The only hand-me-downs(?) are his mom's (gold) jewellery. A lot of nice colours custom, expensive suits though (white, reds, greens, browns) just to look cunty as he surviving the corporate world his dad dragged him into.

His taste with scarfs are IMMACULATE and a collector of it. Don't like wristwatches but LOVES pocket watches. And his nails always clean and well manicured ✨✨✨

[stevenbasic]

GITJ Post 313: The Tale of Queen Angie, p7

Her boobs are growing, and all her little friends? she seethed to herself as she marched down the sidewalk, headed to the shop she’d found online. She’s taller, she’s a fucking She-Hulk at the gym, she’s got some sort of weird-ass hypnotic perfume? she continued to rant, silently to herself, Fine. Two can play at that game.

Angie Wade was not accustomed to shopping in this part of town, the swankiest. But despite being a bit out of her element she held her head up high, strode confidently, some would say haughtily. She’d needed to make an appointment, in fact, to be let into this place she was headed to - ‘Merz Parfumerie’ - which was annoying but whatever. She’d be on time; she’d skipped out of the office an hour early to make sure.

She could feel her boobs jiggling in her too-small bra under her thin, faux-cashmere sweater as she walked. All the extra calories, along with the fenugreek, were starting to do some good, and maybe while she was downtown she’d look into a lingerie store. She’d finally gone up a cup size or two, she figured. Those fifteen pounds had to go somewhere besides my thighs. It was chilly, this early November afternoon, and her nipples were sensitive.

It annoyed her that she even had to be doing this. She’d tried to use AJ, her ex- and apparently some construction-monkey crew leader working on the office expansion, to get her what she wanted. She knew that there’d been adjustments made to the air circulation system in the building, that there was some sort of aromatherapy shit going on, something based on Melissa’s perfume. She knew it had something to do with how the other girls were growing, how spellbound the stupid doctor was by Melissa and her fucking jigglebunnies. Why was it not having any effect on her?!? Why couldn’t she tell him what to do and boss him around like everyone else was doing?!? It was fucking frustrating but she wasn’t about to sit back and just watch, let all these other girls become whatever they were becoming, especially after the elections let the whole fucking world know that there’d be new bosses in town pretty soon - all of them in smart skirts and high heels. She should be the one running that place, not that overgrown bimbo. So, she’d asked AJ to get some of the pure stuff, whatever it was that they were infusing the air filters in the office with, some weird super-strong chemical that smelled like Melissa’s perfume (so fucking weird, right?)…but he proved to be useless. He can’t even do that for me. 

Finally at her destination - she’d had to park a few blocks away, where parking was cheaper - she looked in through the dusky storefront windows of this high-end perfume shop. She squinted, trying to see inside, what she’d be dealing with, but couldn’t make much out. She rang the stupid doorbell and waited. 

A moment later a man answered the door - she was hoping for that. Angie tended to have better luck getting her way with guys than women. But by the way this guy wore that scarf around his neck she wasn’t too sure her normal methods of persuasion were going to be of much help here. Fine, money talks too. The company credit card that she’d been using over these past few weeks, and then surreptitiously hiding transactions for, was in her purse. Working in accounting was helpful. 

“You must be our four o’clock customer. Welcome to Merz Parfumerie,” the thin man with the squirrely little moustache said as he stepped aside, ushered Angie into the dark little shop. He looked her up and down, took note of her cheap shoes and heavy behind as she glanced around, perused, browsing the shelves of exotic perfumes collected from around the world. “Is there anything in particular I can interest you in?”

Angie turned towards him; he’d found his way behind the glass sales counter. She stepped up to him and placed her purse on it. “Yes, thanks. I’ve heard that you can make custom perfumes, is that right?”

“Yes, yes we can,” the man smiled, “a personalized fragrance can be tailored just for you. We have a perfumologist from Grasse, perfume capital of France, who can craft whatever scent you’d like, for any occasion. It’s a wonderful idea. Would it be for you, or is this a gift?”

Perfumologist? Angie scoffed, silently, That’s a thing? “It would be for me, for sure,” she answered, “and I have a particular thing I want...”

At that, Angie unsnapped her purse and - pulling out some gum wrappers and her lipstick, putting a tampon on the counter - removed the three N-95 masks she’d squirreled away, snagged from the exam room earlier this morning. Damn, her whole purse was going to smell like Melissa, now. 

The sales guy watched with cocked brow as she presented the masks to him, placed them on the countertop. His trained nose immediately picked up the scent of them. It was strong. 

“These masks have been, like, soaked in some chemical, some perfume,” Angie began, “I want you to try to duplicate it, but make it…more like me. I want it even more intense.”

As Angie talked the man, with delicate, tentative fingers, lifted one mask from the three and passed it in an arc below his nose. It was not like anything he’d ever smelled before. Feminine, organic, beautiful in its own way. But it wasn’t a perfume, that he could tell. 

“I want to wear it,” Angie continued, “I want to smell powerful. I want people to smell my strength, I want them to gag on it.” She watched the man take another breath of the alluring scent from the surgical mask, considering. “Can you do that for me?”

========================================

[gointothevvater]

Dec 16 Black friday

Today's guest star is @m3gahet's Robin! 🖤

.

"Do you think she'll like it?"

Rolling his eyes, Charles smirked and pointed out, "You can always include the receipt, if you're that worried about it."

Mirroring Charles's smirk, St. Cecilia agreed, "True enough." She hadn't known Robin all that long, and she was terribly worried about giving a terrible gift. Christmas, her mother had once told her, is only as good as the gifts you give. She needed something excellent. Rifling her way through a stack of ridiculously soft cashmere sweaters, she came away with a pretty white one. She had the same sweater in baby pink, and it felt like wearing a warm cloud. She so hoped Robin would like it. "I have a custom guitar being made for Skwisgaar, and Pickles should be easy, too."

Seated on the boutique's little bench, Charles said, "He usually is." There was laughter in his voice.

"Mm-hmm." Pointlessly checking the sweater's price tag, St. Cecilia said, "Honestly, it's the rest of the boys I'm worried about."

"You don't have to buy for them, dearest," Charles said as he stood.

"They're your family, Charlie. Of course I do."

Charles hummed before he asked, "And what is it you're getting me?"

"You?" The laughter came then, and St. Cecilia smiled when he slung an arm around her waist. "I'm not getting you anything."

Leaning in to press a kiss to her temple, Charles whispered, "You're a terrible liar."

How he managed to make an accusation sound like dirty talk was beyond St. Cecilia, and to cover the needy tremble in her voice, she asked, "Why should I get you anything?"

"Why should you not?"

She shivered when his lips slid against the sensitive hollow behind his ear. "You don't deserve a Christmas present," she teased. Slipping free from Charles's grip and heading toward the front of the store with Robin's new sweater in hand, St. Cecilia called over her shoulder, "You're definitely on the naughty list."

[ashintheairlikesnow]

(For five sentence fics)

"You look just perfect like this."

"Look at you." Oliver Branch smiles, sitting back in his armchair. It's an antique, something overstuffed and held over from a governor long before him. "You look just perfect like this."

He swirls the drink in his glass, dirty martini with extra olives. He's already fed his pretty Baldur most of the gin-soaked olives, leaving only two for himself, stabbed with toothpicks, breaking the olive skin like pressing fingernails too deeply into Baldur's bare shoulder. He sips.

"Thank you, Sir," Baldur says, a little hesitantly. The button-up's collar peeks out above his lovely cashmere sweater vest, draping just so. Lovely khakis and a custom-made leather belt, oxford loafers... With his hair combed, he looks every bit the young wealthy man-about-town from the 1950's... Except for the leather pet collar that shows around his throat like the white square on a priest's robes. Sacred, profane, it's all one.

It's a gorgeous look.

Baldur, though, almost ruins it by shifting uncomfortably. "The... The shirt... The tag itches, though..."

Oliver grins, and sets his glass down. "That's all right, darlin'. You won't be wearing it for long."

When he picks up his phone and takes the picture, he catches the moment just before Baldur smooths his expression into one of trained acceptance and desire.

In the photo, you see the far more honest fear.

Perfect.

[ratsoh-writes]

(Fun! Before the mistletoe kiss thing just wanted to say Kei got Pepper a lovely long coat that fit him like a glove and another set of spiced chocolates and Lush a new boxing outfit and matching gloves along with a subscription to a sriracha of the month club for the year. Jezebel got a lovely and soft cashmere sweater and a bottle of wine she'd remarked like before.)

Lush gave kei a gorgeous leather coat and matching leather boots, gloves and vest! He also got her some fun drink mixers and a beautiful custom made crib for the baby.

Pepper got kei some fancy makeup specific to her skin type and bath bombs!

Jezebel got kei and lush a lovely baby blanket and a pretty mobile to go over the crib

[jordanianroyals]

Royal Fashion → King Hussein Cancer Center (29 November 2023)

MaxMara “Okra” Cable-Knit Cashmere Sweater in Opale Rosa ($1190)

Sophie Bille Brahe “Ensemble R” Letter Ring in 18K Yellow Gold & Diamonds (€10000)

Jennifer Chamandi “Lorenzo” Suede and Elaphe Pumps in Lilac & White (£585)

Nejla bint Asem Star Constellation Earrings (Custom Made)

[pinkpineappleshop]

Pink Pineapple offers the most premium quality cashmere sweaters for women. You can get cool trendy cashmere sweaters at great offers.

[companionwolf]

i THINK I've settled on something re notes for the flannel scent replacement using the available options on the house of gloi custom perfume listing

top note: dirt

middle note: lavender

base note: vanilla bean

fourth note: chag nampa

if I did my research right these all should play nice together? am trying to invoke an masculine autumnal cozy scent that ties back to gardenverse (ie soil and plants and warmth) a little but ultimately I want it to be super comforting and calming and such-- needs to be not overly pungent bc I'm actually pretty sensitive to smells ;_;

other things I considered:

- top notes: mint?? blood orange??

- middle notes: chamomile, clove, leaf pile, leather, ocean air, rain, sage,

- base note: cashmere, clean musk, dark patchouli, oakmoss, Tonka, vetiver, white oak, woodsmoke

If anyone knows more about this than me and can give some insight on what would go well together, please feel free!

(Also interested in their pre-made scent called Cozy Sweater; it's the best seller)

[bug-ocs]

I would like to know 16 for whoever has the most fun outfits 👀

16. If money wasn’t a limit, what would they wear?

OOUGH rami probably has the most interesting fashion sense! he already has a propensity for "nice, fashionable clothes" and doesn't mind spending a decent amount of money for, say, a well-made cashmere sweater or leather shoes. but if he had the money, more than anything i think he would prefer to commission custom, bespoke clothing items and accessories from artists rather than focusing on big-name brands, ya know? rami can either dress up or down but he'll ALWAYS be fashionable lol.

he would 100% buy bespoke embroidered suits in jewel tones and unconventional colors and he'd wear them to dinner with gen. even if it was like a burger joint lol

he also likes to dress up his outfits with accessories like nice sunglasses, ornate rings, gold chain necklaces, leather bags, gold bangles, etc. so he would probably splurge on some nicer, "real" jewelry that wouldn't tarnish or break so quickly lol likely from independent artists so he could customize them to his liking and pick his favorite gems! where gen treats her house like a museum, i think rami would treat his body like one and wear all sorts of quirky, custom, hand-made accessories!

i could also totally see him commissioning like...custom knitted/quilted pants like these

[mayihaveyournameplease]

TIMING: July 21st PARTIES: Beau @mayihaveyournameplease & Felix @recoveringdreamer LOCATION: The BMV SUMMARY: Felix comes to renew their license. Beau is there. It sucks for Felix! CONTENT WARNINGS: Domestic abuse tw (mention), grooming tw

In all honesty, Felix had no idea what they were supposed to do to get their license renewed. Leo had brought them out of the woods, so to speak, but he hadn’t done much in teaching them how to fit in with society. They liked to think they’d done a pretty good job readjusting by themself — thank you, Google! — but there were a lot of things they hadn’t thought about at fourteen which became much more important at thirty. Renewing a license was one of them.

The last time they’d done this, Leo had more or less done it for them. Their relationship had been a lot of that; Leo did things for Felix instead of showing him how to do it himself, and Felix was grateful instead of recognizing the controlling hand for what it was. They still hadn’t entirely wizened up to it, still sometimes found themself thinking of the relationship with nostalgia or blaming themself for how things ended. And they hated themself for that, too, just a little. 

But they were getting better. They were trying to get better. They were at the BMV, anxious without reason, were marching to the desk, were slamming their expired license down in front of the clerk. “My name is Felix Mendoza,” they said, “and I need to renew my license.” They’d been practicing the sentence in their head on the walk over, and it still jumbled out all at once, a little too quickly. At least they said the right name. That would have been embarrassing. 

—

The keyboard went clickity clackity under Beau's fingers as he stared at his computer screen. It had been a wonderful day at the BMV. Currently, he was pretending not to notice the weeping woman in front of him. "I'm sorry." She whispered. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I can't remember my name. I'm just so stressed. Please. I'm not lying, I'm sure that I filled out that form correctly. I'm just stressed. I've been under a lot of pressure and - " Beau lifted a singular finger, the universal sign for be quiet. A look of superior smugness washed over his features, bearing his teeth in his usual and well-practiced smile. 

"I would be so cheesed to help you. It would be my absolute cheddar to help you if I was able to, but without confirmation of your name, I just can't." Beau's smug smile failed at being comforting or pacifying. Beau ripped up the paperwork the lady had placed in front of him and tossed it in the trash can under his desk. The woman sobbed harder, being escorted away by the always-put-out security guard, Nick. "Next!" Beau looked down at his lavender cashmere sweater while he waited for his next victim, er, customer to come up. A piece of torn paper was stuck to it, he swiped it away with a scowl, quickly replacing his smile as his next patron came up.

"Nope, nuh-uh." Beau waved a hand in front of the person's nose. "We don't do names yet. One step at a time. You have to wait for me to ask for it, that way I can confirm you're the right person." Beau smiled. It was a genuine smile, he thought the person standing before him was cute. Brawny and toned, like they might be a fighter or something. Beau stood a little straighter on his stepping stool, doing his best to appear his tallest and most handsome self. "Now, let's take a look at that paperwork." Beau raised an expectant eyebrow, "You brought the paperwork, right?" Considering Felix Mendoza had just slapped their licenses down in front of him, and exclaimed their name, Beau made the leap and bounds in his thoughts to decide they didn't have it. Beau started typing and printing, and within moments he plopped the paperwork in front of Felix. "You can fill it out here, I won't send you to the back of the line again. I'm nice like that." A larger smile. He also planned on getting Felix's name. 

—

A sobbing woman was escorted out of the BMV by a security guard who looked more resigned than surprised, and the anxiety building in Felix’s gut grew. Was this a common experience at the BMV? Was he going to leave in a similar state? They hated how they felt when they grew frustrated, hated the way the jaguar in their chest always seemed to rumble when they felt this way. The jaguar was a protective spirit, but its idea of protection wasn’t always what Felix needed. Especially not in a BMV.

With the sobbing woman gone, the man behind the counter was waving Felix up to take her place, then silencing them when they went to say their name. Their mouth snapped shut quickly, and they looked a little sheepish at their mistake. “Sorry.” All that rehearsing, and they’d still gotten it wrong. Not only that, but they’d apparently forgotten the proper steps. There was paperwork involved? Hadn’t the paperwork been done when they’d gotten the license, or when it had been renewed before? It occurred to them, with a moment of dread, that they actually had no idea if their license was legitimate. What if Leo had just… used his fae tricks to get one without going through the proper channels? Would Felix get in trouble for that?

Their eyes slid over to the security guard, who’d returned to his post now that the sobbing woman had been led outside and sent away. The BMV was a government entity, right? Did that mean the security guard could arrest them if they had unknowingly done something wrong? Their eyes slid back over to the man behind the counter, not wanting to look overly suspicious.

“Uh, yeah, no, I can — I’ll fill it out. Sorry. My boyfri — ex boyfriend used to, uh, handle this kind of stuff for me.” Now if something was wrong, he’d know it wasn’t Felix’s fault. Right? Whether or not that would make any kind of difference remained to be seen. “Uh, can I have the, um… the paperwork?” 

—

Beau watched the person in front of him, their eyes slid from the security guard, then back to him. Beau smiled. Nothing new. Beau was always smiling. But this was Beau’s extra big, extra charming smile. It was a smile that said, you can trust me, I’m here to help you. Beau knew that was what the smile said because he had spent hours sitting in front of a mirror getting it to say that. Because smiles were not words, smiles were not bound to the same fae magic that bit his tongue every time he even thought of telling a falsehood. Wasn’t that fun? Smiles could say anything, and they didn’t have to sit behind cheese puns to hide true intent.

“Don’t worry about her. She’s just having a bad day.” Nothing there was a lie, the words flitted out of his mouth easily. “She’ll be back when she feels better. The BMV is a tough and stressful place for some people. Not me. I think that this is the best place in the world. The work I do here is so important. Helping people is such a rewarding job. I’ve never been more rewarded than when I started working in this field.” Because the rewards he gave himself were the names plucked straight from the mouths of those just trying to fill in their paperwork. Beau forced his smile to go even wider, because Beau was a predator, and the bearing of teeth would always be a threat.

Beau straightened up, straightened his sweater, and ran a hand through his hair. “Well, just call me your new boyfriend because I am here to help handle this for you.” Beau let out a belting laughter that caused multiple people to look up from what they were doing and look over at him. Beau slid the freshly printed warm paperwork in front of his newest victim. Then, with a flourish that was absolutely unnecessary, Beau pulled a flower from the pot on his desk. Except it wasn’t a real flower, it was a plastic flower firmly attached to a pen. He offered the pen with the smallest bow. “A pen will make filling out the paperwork much easier, don’t you think?”  

—

The clerk behind the counter was smiling at them in a way that was a little too big to feel natural. Felix felt like he was being sized up, somehow; it felt a little like when they first entered the ring to face off against a new opponent, when they circled one another just before the first bell went off. And in this corner, we have our reigning champ! The vicious animal from deep in the woods, the feral jaguar with jaws of steel. Give it up! Tonight, they’ll be facing off against… Some guy who works in a BMV! All they have to do is make it through a social interaction without making an ass of themself! Whaddaya say, folks? Can! They! Do it? 

No. No they couldn’t. Give them a boxing match any day, it was so much simpler. 

Apparently, this happened often. The BMV was tough and stressful, the clerk told them. The kind of place where people ran out crying. Felix didn’t belong here. Felix would have simply left, gone back out to live in the woods by themself where things like BMVs and security guards really didn’t mean anything, but Felix had a contract and Felix was stuck and Felix needed a stupid license to go to their stupid job so the stupid contract didn’t stupidly kill them because they were stupid. 

At least the clerk seemed nice.

But… maybe a liiiiittle forward.

“Oh. Ha.” The discomfort was clear in Felix’s laugh. “That’s, uh… That’s nice of you. I’m — I’m gonna be honest, I’m too stressed out to reciprocate.” Stressed about the BMV, stressed about work, stressed about Leo, stressed about life. Felix was having a bad time. So it went. “A pen,” he nodded, reaching out to take it. “Thanks, man. Uh, can I fill it out here, or should I go sit down…?”

—

“Right, of course, hahaha, I just…” Beau flicked a hand through his hair, looking away from the person in front of him. “I was just making a joke. You know. To ease the tension of the BMV. Because it's rough in here. Haha. Sorry! I didn’t mean for you to take it seriously. You know jokes right? You like jokes right?” Despite the constant stream of rejections Beau found himself facing on a daily basis the familiar sting still burned in his chest. Never good enough. Always rejected. The idea of getting to know each other, the idea that other people didn’t know him, the idea that relationships were work and not just things handed on a silver platter never crossed his mind. 

“You can fill it out here. If you leave my booth, you’ll have to go back to the queue.” Beau looked down at the numbers displayed on the screen. We are on 324 out of 639 tickets. That would make you 640 in que.” The ticketing system the BMV chose to employ wasn’t one that made sense. A lot of numbers were skipped in different orders, that way the BMV patrons never knew where they actually were in line, and they were just grateful when their number seemed to appear faster than they thought it would. It always seems like good luck to see a ticket go from five to twelve. It really made people feel like things were going their way. Just in time for Beau to crush those dreams underneath his little fingers as he stole their name.” 

Beau switched his gaze back to his computer. His fingers flew over his keyboard as he pretended he was getting work done. Normally Beau had no problem with sending people back into the queue. There was a delight in seeing their faces drop as they realized their long wait was about to be repeated, but as the day got later, more people filed in, so the wait would be longer than previously. However, Beau wanted this pretty stranger’s name. It felt right. He could play along. “Please hurry, I don’t want my supervisors to catch me being nice. Haha” 

—

Oh, no. They’d hurt the BMV guy’s feelings, hadn’t they? They’d been too harsh in their rejection, and that wasn’t fair. The BMV guy was being nice, was helping them out, was trying to do them a favor. Maybe Felix owed him a little bit of flirting in exchange for that. In their last relationship, after all, things had been transactional. They owed Leo for bringing them out of the woods, owed him for putting a roof over their head, owed him for loving them even when they were messy and unbalanced and difficult to be around. And he got so angry when he wasn’t given something he was owed. The last thing Felix wanted was a repeat of that here. Their eyes shifted to the security guard again, heart pounding. “Uh, no, not — I’m sorry. That was really rude of me. I like jokes, I’m sorry. I’m just stressed out right now. But you’re helping a lot, and you’ve been really nice. I thought your joke was nice.” 

The idea of going to the back of the line was almost sickening, and the relief when the employee assured them that he wouldn’t make them do it was intense. They offered the employee a grateful smile, looking down at the form as they filled out the information. Some of it, they left blank; they didn’t think they’d been convicted of violating any major motor vehicle laws in the last ten years, but what if they were wrong? Their eyes flittered over to the security guard again, which, yeah, okay. They were in Full Anxiety Mode here. They got that. The security guard wasn’t going to drag them out for answering a question on a form wrong.

Finishing up the form, Felix nodded to themself and slid the paper back to the BMV clerk. “Sorry. Yeah, it’s done. Uh, I think I got everything.” He hoped he had. Being sent to the back of the line — and worse still, getting the kind employee in trouble for helping them — sounded like the absolute last thing they wanted to do. “Uh, what, um… What’s next?”

—

Finally Beau was being given the praise he deserved. The cutie in front of him was praising his jokes. Beau preened like a bird, smiling and turning side to side ever so slightly. Pleased with the result of his actions. “Yes, my jokes are nice, aren’t they. I’m glad you’re smart enough to recognize that.” If Beau was his optimal self he would have fifty pairs of lips, that way he could keep adding smile upon smile. Instead, he was forced to let his smile grow bigger, stretching his cheeks to uncomfortability. “I’ve got a lot of jokes, you know.” He added, leaning forward, chin on his hand as he batted his eyes towards his newest most hopeful companion. “I’m a silly guy.”

Beau watched, enraptured, while Felix Mendoza filled out their paperwork in front of him. The little flower at the end of the pen swayed back and forth on the pen. After a while Felix was done and asked Beau what they did next. Now it was Beau’s fun time. Beau smiled harder, again. Beau slid the paperwork back to him, and slipped on his half-moon glasses. He didn’t actually need them to read. He just thought they made him look more distinguished. Beau was a distinguished gentleman, after all. 

“Now we’ll go over some details, confirm it's you, then renew your license. Easy as that.” Beau let out a small laugh, tapping the paper. Beau did note the lack of the thank you, but decided not to think too much about it. Some people just had no manners. Felix Mendoza was stressed, after all. “Okay, the first security question is the easiest, it’s so silly that they make me ask it, but you know how bosses are.” Beau drew out the moment of joy, the moment he’d been waiting for this whole time. “Alright. Security question one, can you give me your name?” 

—

The clerk seemed happy… or, he was smiling, at least. But it was difficult to determine if it was a genuinely happy expression or not. There was something unhinged about it, like he was a moment away from breaking. Felix had never worked customer service before — they’d been just on the cusp of being old enough for employment when they were plucked out of society by their father, and Leo had never wanted them to work during their relationship, so their first experience with a ‘job’ was at the Pit — but they knew it was stressful. Their older brother had done retail for a while before their father moved them all out into the woods, they remembered how angry it made him. Felix imagined working in the BMV was similar. The poor clerk was probably frustrated, probably spent all day being yelled at and abused. Maybe something as simple as laughing at his jokes could really help him out. 

“Well, uh, if you want to tell more jokes, I can listen. I like jokes.” They could… pretend to understand the clerk’s jokes, even if they weren’t sure they actually would. They’d gotten good at laughing at things they didn’t actually find funny, gotten skilled in the art of keeping people happy by pretending to understand them. The moment the thought crossed their mind, Felix felt guilty for the comparison. It wasn’t right to put this stranger in the same category as Leo. He seemed like a nice guy. He didn’t deserve all that.

Letting out a nervous chuckle, Felix nodded. “Right. Easy.” Was anything ever? Just existing in society felt overwhelming sometimes, like they were waiting for some inevitable other shoe to drop down and crush them. “Yeah,” they chuckled again. “Bosses are the worst.” At least the BMV probably didn’t make this guy maim people for them. Felix glanced to the security guard again. Hopefully. “Right, um, my name is Felix Mendoza.” 

—

“Of course you like jokes. What a relief. I can’t stand people without a sense of humor. They are so annoying, don’t you agree? Like learn some thinking. They’re always like “that’s not funny.” But what are they upset about? Huh? It’s just words. It's not like it can hurt them. If it bothered them so much, maybe they should lock themselves indoors and shelter themselves from the real world.” Beau let out a string of laughter, as if anything he’d said had been funny. Beau’s secret was that deep in his heart of hearts, he hated people. 

The words were said. Beau could feel fae magic, the magic of the world and its make up, shift around them. The threads of Felix’s life rearranged themselves and a crucial thread was snipped away and stitched into Beau. Another day, another name. Beau’s smile instantly changed from forced to genuine, reaching up to his eyes and shining down at everyone in the BMV. This was the moment that he lived for. 

“There seems to be a problem with your paperwork.” God he relished this. The anxiety that ran over their face, he knew that this would only cause their heart to race and panic as they realized they didn’t know their name. “I don’t think that's your name.” Beau leaned forward again, sliding the piece of paper towards Felix. Beau pointed to the words. “You’re not lying, are you? I can’t stand liars. It would really suck to know that I am going out of my way to help you, only for you to lie to me.” Beau let his smile falter, he let himself play the part of hurt victim in the scenario of his own creation. “I like you, you know that right? I’ve done nothing but want to help you. So why can’t you be honest with me?” It was a game of cat and mouse, and Beau was a cat devouring his mouse. 

—

“Oh, I…” Felix didn’t agree with that. They didn’t think it was right to suggest that anyone lock themselves away for not liking a certain type of humor. Again, they thought of Leo and his tendency to rage the moment Felix didn’t see something his way. And again, they felt tremendously guilty for comparing a stranger to the ex who had picked them apart so meticulously. Why were they assigning Leo’s faults onto a man who seemed to be trying to help them? It wasn’t at all fair. Were they so damaged that they couldn’t have a normal conversation without that nauseous feeling seeping through? God, they felt ashamed of themself. “I guess it is a little annoying. But everybody’s got their own sense of humor, right? Some people’s just don’t vibe with each other.”

Something strange washed over them as they said their name. They almost didn’t realize it at first, almost didn’t clock it until the clerk spoke. Their brow furrowed as they looked down at the paperwork, the words strangely blurred where they’d written their name. Like they couldn’t quite make out what they’d put there. Then the clerk was asking them if that was really their name, and — and they didn’t know. They didn’t know what their name is.

“No!” They stammered, anxiety clinging to their chest. “No, I wasn’t — I didn’t lie. I’m not a liar. I promise, I’m not a liar. I’m just… There’s something wrong. There’s something wrong with me.” Panic seized their chest, breath coming quicker than it ought to. They felt wrong. Something was wrong, and they didn’t understand what. “Please, please help me. I like you, too, you know? I — Please don’t kick me out. Please. Please help me.” The world felt like it was closing in on them. They knew they needed to calm down before the jaguar mistook their panic for danger and reared its head, but they didn’t quite know how. “Can we go somewhere? Um, me and you? I need — I don’t — I need to go somewhere.”

—

"Having your own sense of humor is one thing, but ruining it for everyone else?" Beau asked, eyebrows raising high into his hairline. "What gives them the right? You can think a joke isn't funny, but that doesn't mean you should take away other people's jokes. Listen, all I know is if you're going to go boohoo crying all sensitive as a snowflake over a little tiny pansy ass joke, then you don't need to be in the real world. You can stay safe and sheltered in your own home and away from anyone else with common sense." Beau let out a loud as if everything he'd said had been hilarious. As if implying that people who were sensitive to others' jokes were the joke. "How about they get sensitive to ruining my vibe?" Beau threw the word vibe back at Felix, adding a harsh emphasis to it. 

None of that conversation mattered though. Not when the true prize was reached. Beau watched as the realization that Felix didn't know their name washed over them. Panic distorted all of their features. Beau, personally, thought they looked cuter when they were panicked. Much more interesting. Definitely, like someone they wanted to get to know. "Are you sure you didn't lie?" The question was condescending, but not as condescending as the voice that he said it in. Desperation was a good look on so many people. It tore the options from before them and gave them one linear path. A path that led them straight back to Beau, and his mercy. Beau's smile softened in the way that a knife's edge is soft. 

"Go somewhere? I'm on the clock?" Beau looked down at his computer and started typing things. "No, I'm a good guy. A kind guy. I do want to help you. I can take my lunch break early. Where are you taking me?" This was fun. Delightful. The fae hadn't had this much fun in a while. Most people started crying or screaming or a combination of both. Not once had a person ever asked to go somewhere with him. That was disappointing, wasn't it? Beau was great to go places with. People should love doing things with him. Where would the human formerly known as Felix take him? Excitement drummed within him. He exited behind his desk and made the one-minute trek around all the work station to the door to the waiting area. Then the one-minute trek back. "Alright. Lead the way, let us go wherever your precious heart desires." 

—

He seemed… really worked up about this. Felix had learned not to argue when someone was this impassioned about something, knew that disagreeing with the wrong person in the wrong moment never led anywhere good. This man wasn’t Leo, and it wasn’t fair to compare the two, but he still reminded them of their ex. They still couldn’t help but think of the consequences they’d face when disagreeing with Leo during times when he was this worked up about whatever it was he was saying, and they didn’t want to repeat that now. So Felix shifted, shrunk in on themself a little. Mumbled a quiet, “You’re right, sorry,” that was more instinct than it was anything genuine, and hoped it would be enough.

They almost missed that feeling of smallness when the panic washed over them, when their name was a thing they could no longer grasp. “No,” they said quietly, shaking their head. “No, I didn’t — I didn’t lie. I didn’t, I swear, I don’t — I don’t. I don’t lie.” This, too, was the ghost of an old conversation, an argument Leo had started often. You lie, Felix. You’re a liar. You know you are. You lie all the time. How can I trust you? You’re probably lying to me right now. But they weren’t. They were sure of their name when they’d said it, they just couldn’t remember it anymore. How could they explain that to a stranger? 

“Sorry. No. Yeah. No. Sorry. You are. I know. Sorry.” The words tumbled out, the sorries like punctuation marks at the end of each stilted sentence. Panic was clawing at their throat, choking them. What were they going to do? They couldn’t even go to the BMV and get a license renewed without royally screwing something up for themself. Leo had been right, hadn’t they? Felix was useless on their own. But the BMV clerk, far more accommodating than Felix deserved, agreed to take his lunch break early. The relief felt like a physical thing, nearly knocking the balam off their feet. “Is there — Is there somewhere we can sit? Please, I’m sorry. I’m just — I don’t know what my name is. I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad. Can you help me? Please, I’ll give you anything you want, I just need help.”

—

Felix rolled over easily, so easily that Beau didn't notice there had been any disagreement at all. Because that was how all people should treat him. That was exactly what he deserved at all times. Unquestioned and one hundred percent agreement. Beau let the trace of that conversation disappear. He had nothing else to add, Felix had already agreed with his obviously right opinion. 

"You don't lie?" Beau cooed the word, Beau dragged out the simple sentence as if it was a kindness to Felix and not a blatant manipulation. "Of course, you don't lie." Patronizing, demeaning, dehumanizing. It said, I want to believe you but the evidence is before us and the evidence doesn't lie, does it? The evidence speaks the truth and the truth is Felix isn't your name. "You know you never have to lie to me." Soft, kind, as if Beau didn't know he was purposely grabbing a knife and twisting it deep within a panicking Felix's heart. 

"I accept your sorry, but sorry doesn't fix this situation, does it?" Beau placed a gentle and affirming hand on Felix's back, leading the panicked individual out of the BMV. The day was bright and warm, a gentle breeze pushed at his brown hair letting the tips of his greenhorns peak in and out of view. Felix was making a lot of big claims as Beau steered them to a bench and sat them down. Beau didn't sit down. Beau stood because when people sat Beau got to be taller than them. Beau liked how powerful that made him feel. Beau loved the power he held in this situation because he held it all. Felix was nothing without Beau. Felix was crumbling away, and only Beau could save them. Beau was indulgent on this delectable power. 

"Anything I want?" Beau repeated what Felix had offered. "I'm not mad, just disappointed. When I saw you I thought you looked respectable. Like an upstanding citizen in this town. But listen. I want that for you, I want to believe that about you. I think you have just made a little mistake and we can fix this. Together." Beau was grabbing Felix's hands in his own perfectly manicured ones. Felix's hands were rough and coarse. "If you promise me you will give me anything I want, I can fix this for you. But you have to promise." 

—

The clerk’s tone was soft, but with an edge to it. It was so much like Leo, so much like the arguments they used to have. You know I love you, Fe, but you’re being really stupid right now. It’s okay. I know you didn’t finish school. You don’t have to be smart. I’ll be smart for you, okay? Just trust me. Do you think I’d lie to you? Do you really think I’d do that? Felix felt their heart in their throat, pounding against their pulse point in a desperate thrum. They were being stupid here, weren’t they? They were so anxious, so terrified, and for what? The BMV clerk was trying to help them, and they were still comparing him to Leo. 

“I’m — I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t lie. I’m not.” For a moment, it was like they were back in that apartment they’d shared with Leo. They were trying, so hard, to convince the clerk that they were telling the truth. Trying to convince themself, too, even though they knew they were being honest. But, like Leo, this clerk had planted that uncertain seed of doubt in Felix’s mind. Were they telling the truth? Had they gotten confused somewhere along the way? It happened sometimes, didn’t it? Felix wasn’t smart, wasn’t good at remembering, wasn’t good at much at all. Maybe they’d gotten something twisted along the way. Maybe Felix really wasn’t Felix after all.

The nameless person leaned into the clerk’s touch, desperate for something to ground them. If they’d been looking a little closer at the clerk, they might have seen the horns peeking through his hair. They might have even known what that meant. They spent plenty of time with fae at work, after all, knew the spriggans on staff and the nymphs who sometimes fought in the ring. But they were beyond paying attention now, beyond recognizing much of anything. Panic gripped their throat, and panic was all that existed.

So they missed the rest of it, too. The familiarity of the request for a promise, the way it was so like the contract they’d signed. “I want to fix it,” they said desperately. “I’m not a bad person. I’m not.” They wanted to believe that, too. But it was so hard to believe things when they were the only one saying them. If the clerk said it, maybe it would be easier to accept as truth. “I promise. I promise, I’ll give you anything you want. Please, just help me get my name back. As long as you do that, I promise.”

—

Promise. Poets wrote so many poems about love and sorrow, but not enough about promise. The word was beautiful. Intoxicating. Powerful. It stripped people away and built others up. It armed Beau with more power than a spriggan should have. Fae magic was in effect the moment Felix made a promise. Threads of magic wrapped around Felix binding them, then waited, it had to wait. The bind would only tack effect if Beau followed through with his end. "Your name is Felix. It's your name, and I return it." The thread of magic wrapped itself around Beau, binding them together through promise. Til death do them part. The death would be Felix's, of course. If they ever chose not to follow Beau's instructions. Because Beau held all the power here. 

"All fixed." Beau pat Felix on the cheek. As if he was still doing Felix a prolonged and gentle kindness. As if Felix should be thankful that Beau was so kind to fix all of this, this problem that he had created himself. "Now come on and get up. You have a license to finish renewing." Beau led Felix back into the BMV, back to his desk, and back to work. As Beau typed away at his computer, he barely registered what he was doing. Felix had supplied Beau with such a potent promise. There had been no limit to how many times Felix would do anything Beau asked. There had been no stipulations. 

"I want you to hop on one foot while we wait," Beau told Felix, just because he could. For his own joyful amusement. Beau made sure to drag out the paperwork he was doing just to keep Felix in a prolonged state of obedience. So other people in the BMV could take in the sight. They didn't know - they couldn't know- just how much power Beau held in this situation, but he wished he could tell all of them. Revel in this victory. It hadn't even been a hard-fought one. Felix had been pathetic, sad, and giving. That was going to make this all the more fun.

Eventually, the new driver's license was printed and Beau was sliding it over the table to Felix. "Here you go. I want you to keep me in mind always. Visit me soon. Stay in touch. We'll have a lot to talk about. I just know it." 

—

The nameless person was unaware of the magic that bound them. One might think that, after dealing with binds in the Grit Pit for so long, they’d have some way of sensing the shackles they’d placed around their own wrists, like some strange instinct that could warn them of the dangerous deal they’d entered into. But, unfortunately, no such thing existed. There were no warning signs, no alarm bells. There wasn’t even a sense of deja vu to fill their stomach with dread. They had no reason to suspect that the helpful BMV clerk was anything but that.

Especially not when he returned their name to them.

It flooded them all at once, that quiet realization. Felix. Their name was Felix. Of course it was. How had they forgotten that? How had they ever thought differently? The relief slumped their shoulders, and they offered the clerk a grateful smile. “Thank you,” they breathed. “Wow. I can’t believe I forgot that. That was — That was really stupid of me. I’m sorry. That was stupid.” They were stupid. Leo always said so, didn’t he? He’d been right. This was proof of it.

Without really knowing why, Felix lifted one foot off the ground as the clerk prepared the paperwork. It wasn’t that bad of a request, anyway; with their distinctly cat-like reflexes, Felix was plenty capable of balancing. Still, they got a few weird looks as they stood, waiting patiently and obediently for the paperwork to be finished. It seemed to take a while, but Felix had no real concept of how long it should take. 

Finally, the clerk slid the license across the table, and Felix lowered their foot back to the ground. “Okay,” they agreed. “I’ll, uh… I’ll talk to you soon.” They were friends now, weren’t they? Felix and the kind clerk at the BMV.

They thought it was going to be really nice, having a friend. 

[blueelectricroom]

They should have been Chappaqua's most eligible bachelors in the late 1960s and early 70s.

The Bass twins (Sea and Rankin) had money, property, devilish good looks, the whole nine. Sea knew his way around the curves at Le Mans (first American to represent Jaguar, Porsche, and Ferrari in consecutive years), and Rankin flew experimental aircraft on weekends when he wasn't sailing.

But they shared a common and, ultimately, unobtainable goal: The fellas planned one day to marry twins.

To that end, a search was conducted through the years, going back to the seventh grade, actually. And it will surprise no one to learn that the idea was solely the contrivance, scheme, and unhealthy obsession of their older sister, Elle.

This weird, and, at times, sordid plan was among many machinations "for the family" that Elle was behind, about which two Bass stepmothers might have something to say if they were not so very, very deceased. (Elle had a third potential Mrs. Bass lined up for their dad, Bass Bass, but that's not pertinent to the holiday moment pictured here.)

Instead, in this scene we see yet another presentation of the engagement "pitch" to the Belvedere twins, Ring and Sunset. Rankin had instantly seen the bonus of how, should nuptials proceed apace, initials on the two couples' luggage and sweaters would be a real hoot. In that box being offered to Sunset is a cashmere example thereof, compliments of a custom purchase Elle had made in London. Sea has champagne at the ready.

Courtship? What's that? I mean, you should see those clusters of mistletoe hanging above a massive sconce in the foyer.

[tinydooms]

Today was one of the stranger days of my adult career: I arrived at my new job at this floral art gallery (I'm on Day 3) to find no one there, the store completely closed and dark. Waited outside 10 minutes for my boss, then got cold and so went next door to my bookstore, where we keep the spare key. (My bookstore uses the art gallery as an event space when we have author signings. This is how I got the job at the gallery: I was blantantly, shamelessly poached; Flower Boss asked Bookstore Boss if they could share me. I wasn't even interviewed.)

So I let myself in, turned on the lights, turned on the computer, pulled up the New Orders, filled buckets with water in preparation for the daily flower delivery, did a general tidy of the showroom, a deep clean of the workroom, and made a cup of coffee. No boss or other colleagues to be seen. Prepped the orders as much as I could; ie printing out the buyer-included message ("Happy Thanksgiving!" "You are a treasure!" etc) and filling out the bouquet label. Found New Boss's tentative notes for her book project and typed them up. Talked to customers as they wandered in. Still no boss. Refilled flower buckets. Made another cup of coffee. Realized that even wearing a cashmere sweater and stockings under my trousers, I was still just a bit cold. Relished the cold. Warmed up with a third cup of joe.

In other words, I generally kept things under control. And it was fun! It was Not Hard! I am SO incredibly lucky that I had been taught the basics and how to run POS! I was alone in the shop nearly the whole day! I have never in my life been trusted with being Alone At Work on Day Three of my employment!

I mean, I get that people feel that I am generally capable and don't need supervision. I'm not complaining. It's just odd to me.

But you know what? I had a blast.

[simba-bonfamille-lyons]

Simba’s Christmas Gifts

For Berlioz @ber-bonfamille-lyons: this playlist :)

For Ashlee @ashlee-bonfamille-lyons: new pointe shoes, treats for juni, a few other odds and ends probably like clothes and books, etc.

For Marie @marie-a-bonfamille: is it a cop out for him to get her more fabric like he has the past two years? lmao he doesn’t think so!! it’s gonna becomee one of those things where he always gets her it bc he thinks she likes it but she’ll get sick of it at some point lol

For Toulouse @lou-bonfightme: a new houseplant for his new apartment and treats for victoire

For Amelia (and Abigail) @amelia-o-gabble: treats for duckie and goose for sure, probably custom sweaters w corgis on them -- one pink/one blue lol

For Jenny @jenny-marshfoxworth: he def stressed about what to get her bc he doesn’t know her super well yet but he probs wound up getting her like a combined present w ber -- maybe a new guitar, i feel like they’d do that -- idk ask lauryl what it was haha something expensy

For Isaac @isaac-morey: probably something to sort things in his classroom like containers or w/e bc simba finds those helpful and thinks eeveryone else would too

For Drakken @dr-drckken: YEAH they’re still FRIENDs literally rude (i read the discord thing lmao) -- he probs got him like one of those kiddie science kits bc he thinks they’re fun lol

For Winston @winndeavor: got him a nice cashmere scarf or NO some knitted pot holders for plants. both.

For Martin and Archimedes @geehosaphat: archimedes got a bowtie with golden retrievers on it lol -- and Martin probs got some charmed cooking equipment since he bakes

For Pacifica @northwestxprincess: some rose gold air pods do they make those? idk it just seems like a vibe

For Eilonwy @eilonwy-notjustgirl: a rugby ball with signatures from some girl’s team in england idk :) simba has #connections

For Jessica @notbad-justsungthatway: some rose/honey/ginger tea made by his aunt in kenya -- “good for ur throat” :) - simba

For Greg @notmuchofatail: a donation to Ruff to Fluff for 500 pounds, from the Bonfamille-Lyons clan

For Jessie @belladonna-wright: one of those scratch off travel maps

For Jeremy (and parents and Suzy) @jere-me--oh-my: some baked goods for the whole fam, parents probs got nice scarves, suzy got like some toys, and jeremy got some guitar picks and maybe a new guitar strap

For Hades @trip-downtheriverstyx: a mug that says #1 mayor which i THINK he got him last year, but doesn’t remember but is very funny if he did

For Dian @dian-morey: some fun scrubs since he works w the kiddos sometimes!

For Doc @doc-hudson: a book on dealing w grief lmfaooo this is so passive aggressive (he means it genuinely tho)

For Robbie @robbie-ryeo: a nice leatherbound notebook YEAH i remembered they’re kinda awkward friends so :)

For Flik @flik-feathery: also some of those kid science experiment kits bc again, simba thinks they’re fun

For Arista @arista-the-musical: probably a nice handcrafted tote from kenya in a nice bright red :)

For Jake @crickey-itsjake: a pair of nice polarized sunglasses bc he’s outside a lot

For JEFF: a nice wallet that he doesn’t give him for reasons...

For Aquata @aquata-the-champ: a nice plush towel customized with her name and “coach” on it -- in blue ofc

For Alana @alana-the-brilliant: ...another kiddie science kit there is a theme this year lmao

For Agustin @accident-prone-agustin: a 1000$ bonus from InterPride -- a nice hat for the winter

For Mads @mads-morey: a book in arabic probs

For Franny and the bb @mrsrcbinscn: some jewelry for Franny and some toys for the bb

For Reza @rezares: “i know u don’t celebrate that’s why it’s funny” - simba who bought reza a santa hat lol

For Elena and the babies @displacedprincess: a locket with the babies’ pics in it and some toys for the bbs

For Lightning @lightning-kachow: he just is too excited for him to be in Swynlake so he probs bought him a bunch of Swynlake swag lmao

For Mirabel @waitingona-mirabel:

For Tiana @truitt-story: a gift certificate to a spa day -- also another one for her mama probs :)

For Belle @labellerose-acheron: some bath salts and treats for philippe

For Isabela @rowsandrows-of-roses: a book of wax paper to press flowers

For Felix @tirameunpaso-felix: the ugliest button up he could find :)

For Ella and Willa @cinderellaashbourne: some toys for the bb and some sorting containers for her classroom for Ella

For Barbie @estrelllas: some beaded bracelets from kenya!

For Dolores @haveyoumet-dolores: some cute ear muffs probs in like a nice bright yellow, and fuzzy. like thsi

For Al @alzcomicbarn: a gift card to Hatter’s sorry he doesn’t know what to get him but doesn’t wanna leave him out

For Gil @agentgrumpy-gils: a 1000$ InterPride bonus

For Ting-Ting @princess-ting-ting: a 1000$ InterPride bonus

For Pepa @letitrain-letitsnow-letitgo: a photo album for her to fill -- customized with “swynlake memories” on the front