#making this a thrifting masterpiece

[sillybeanies]

I MADE A THING I'm not sure what to call this but I slapped a furby on a beanie baby and CREATED LIFE

Purbetua ( ͡°( ͡° ͜ʖ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)ʖ ͡°) ͡°)

she's watching over you 🥰

[astrolook]

Venus in the houses

Venus in the 1st House : Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who’s the most fabulous of all ? It's Me.

You’ve never met a filter you didn’t like.

Love at first sight? You’re basically an app for it.

Getting married? You’re the whole package—gift wrapped in glamour.

You can make a paper bag look like haute couture.

Open to plastic surgery/beauty enhancement procedures.

Venus in the 2nd House : I’m just financially fabulous.

You’re a walking manifestation of “treat yourself.”

Your idea of a “fun investment” is high-end makeup.

Money may not buy happiness, but it buys a killer wardrobe.

Cosmetic collection? It’s more of a museum at this point.

You could turn a thrift store into a designer boutique.

Venus in the 3rd House : Talk to me. I make every word sound like gold.

Beauty tips? You pass them on like life-changing wisdom.

Makeup is optional, but your smile is mandatory.

Takes 25 pictures to make sure whether you look good in a selfie.

You could make an IKEA instruction manual sound like Shakespeare. You’re not just talking, you’re seducing with your words.

Love letters are basically your second language.

Venus in the 4th House : Home is where the luxury is, and so am I.

Probably have a Pinterest account with luxury home décor pins.

You take pictures like you are in for a Vogue photoshoot.

Your partner requirement: must appreciate candlelit dinners and spontaneous home makeovers.

Your family is either all-in for gourmet meals or leaving the house for takeout.

Your house plants probably have their own Instagram.

Venus in the 5th House: I don’t just fall in love, I make it a production.

You don’t “date,” you audition for the role of soulmate.

Your flirt game is so strong, even Siri has a crush on you.

Your idea of a “low-key evening” involves five outfit changes and a selfie.

Your idea of “casual” is wearing heels to the grocery store.

You don’t “catch feelings,” you produce them—like a movie sequel no one asked for.

Venus in the 6th House : Effortlessly fabulous, even while folding laundry.

You love self-care—so much that it’s practically a ritual.

Probably post pictures of their prepped meals on Instagram.

Your health routine involves pampering, not sweating.

You’ll never date someone who doesn’t have their life together (including their laundry).

You attract people with cleanliness, not just your charm (but mostly your charm).

Venus in the 7th House: I’m not picky, I just attract perfection in love.

You attract love like it’s the latest fashion trend.

Kind of partner? You wrote the manual on that.

Love is art, and you’re the masterpiece.

Your soulmate better have their life together, including an emergency fund and excellent taste in movies.

Your relationship advice is as chic as your wardrobe.

Venus in the 8th House: I love deeply… and live luxuriously in the process.

You’ve got that “rich in mystery” vibe going on.

Your partner could be wealthier than you.

Your love life is so intense, it might need a fire extinguisher.

You don’t just fall in love—you plunge.

You’re basically a passionate volcano of emotions.

Venus in the 9th House : I’m off to discover the world… and look fabulous doing it.

You fall in love like you fall in love with new cultures or people of other nationalities.

Your idea of romance? Passport, plane ticket, and luxury.

You’re not just looking for a lover; you need a travel buddy with a PhD.

If they can’t keep up with your wanderlust, you’ll probably ghost them at the airport.

Your ideal partner? Someone who can read Kant and order food in French.

Venus in the 10th House: Looking for a partner? Better come with a résumé.

You don’t date; you network—and maybe fall in love later.

Your ideal relationship is as high profile as your LinkedIn.

You’re not here for a fling—you want a power couple partnership.

If love’s a game, I’m playing to win.

Could meet your partner through your job.

Venus in the 11th House: Looking for love—must like my friends (they come first).

You need someone who shares your love of weird hobbies and social causes, or else it’s a deal-breaker.

You’re not falling in love, you’re curating your social circle... one date at a time.

Relationships for you? They're like your social media feed—always with a “#couplegoals” vibe.

Follows skin and hair care or hair style tutorials on YouTube.

90 percent of your google searches would be "how to make your hair grow faster", "best products for glowing skin",etc

Venus in the 12th House: Can’t love you if I haven’t analyzed my dreams first.

You don’t date—you swoon from afar in secret, like a true romantic introvert.

Probably have some skin and food allergies.

You fall for someone and then ghost yourself—the ultimate Venus in the 12th move.

You only fall for people who don’t even know they’re in love with you yet.

Your idea of a date? Talking about your past lives—or maybe just your weirdest dreams.

Love is like a hidden treasure—you’ll find it, but only if you’re deep enough in your feelings (or your journal that you don't show it to anyone).

So whether you're romancing in secret, hosting a business meeting disguised as a date, or curating your perfect Instagram-worthy love life, remember: Venus is just here to make it fabulous. Just don't forget to bring the skincare, Wi-Fi, and maybe a Google search or two. Keep shining, keep loving, and keep being your amazing, quirky self—Venus has got your back!

Curious about your birth chart and what it's really saying about you? 🌟 Slide into my DMs for a personalized astrology reading, and let's unlock the secrets of your stars. ✨ Don’t forget to check out my pinned post for pricing details! 🔮 Let’s make those cosmic connections happen! 🌙🌌

[deminetly]

𓏵 YOUTUBE VIDEO IDEAS

──────────────────

┆ FASHION RELATED

thrift flipping random items my friend chose me

styling clothes I no longer like

closet cleanout

personalising something (your purse, bike, car, etc)

recreating pinterest outfits

how to find your style/finding my style

clothes Id buy if l was rich

current favourite fashion trends

wearing clothes wrong (scarf as shirt for example

recreating met gala outfits

letting my followers/friends style me

styling my followers

my favourite clothing items

how to spice up a boring outfit

making outfits based on random theme suggestions

upcycling my old clothes

jewellery collection

thrift haul + try on + styling

predicting fashion trends

how to dress more whimsical

weird fashion trends that actually existed

the science hehind why certain colors look good on you (explaining undertones, color theory and how to find your best shades)

only wearing old trends

my favourite trends

letting strangers pick my outfits from a thrift store 

─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─

┆ ART RELATED

guessing the prices of modern art

playing roblox speed draw until I win

drawing in weird conditions (in the dark/underwater/with your non doninant hand)

recreating famous paintings

trying out different art styles

guessing/making up the meanings behind famous pieces

turning random scribbles into masterpieces

can I spot the Al generated piece

trying to create a masterpiece with the cheapest materials

attempting to find my art style

drawing the same thing in ten minutes vs an hour

redesigning companies logos

redesigning cartoon characters (in my art style)

drawing how I think book characters/places look

painting scnenes from my dreams while telling you about them

making a piece of art only using materials from nature

turning my followers’ pinterest boards into characters/stories/pieces of art

reviewing my followers’ art

trying to draw random characters completely from memory

drawing a self portrait from memory

drawing a self portrait in different styles

rating my fanart

doing random art exercises

─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─

┆ …EVERY DAY FOR A WEEK CHALLANGES

trying a new hobby...

getting of my comfort zone (doing something uncomfortable...)

going on side quests alone...

trying out new styles...

dressing like 90s movie characters...

doing something nice...

watching a different movie...

letting followers/friends control my life...

listening to a new genre of music...

turning into my favourite characters...

letting my followers/friends style me…

interviewing strangers about their weirdest dream (or any other topic)…

testing out a new morning/night/writing/etc routine…

only wearing old trends…

reading/writing a short story…

watching a horror film…

helping out a stranger…

doing 3 crafts a day…

─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─

┆ JUST VIBES / RANDOM

trinket collection/favourite trinkets

trinket hunting at the thrift store

whats in my bag

whats in my junk drawer

movie/book/music recs

character customizing (dyeng hair, getting nails done, etc)

reading my old journals

redesigning famous album covers/movie posters

going randonauticaing

turning into my favourite character for a day (dressing and acting like your favourite character)

rating media Ive consumed lately (movies, books)

room/car tour

being productive for a week

reading my followers confessions

doing public dares (with your friend/alone with dares that your followers submitted)

my wishlist

things I want in my future home/things I love in houses

my (month) favourites

weird facebook marketplace finds (+buying them?)

decorating my purse

hobby ideas

weird girl hobby ideas

trying new hairstyles and makeup looks

reading reddit confessions/AITA stories

career ideas if you like…

24h without my phone

replacing my screentime with isolation

putting the same writing prompt in story writing generators and ranking them

opening mystery jewellery bags

short film / short film ideas

stop motion film

the history of literally anything (journaling for example)

what Id buy if I was rich / wishlist

how to take good pictures / picture and pose ideas for photoshoots

rating my old pinterest boards and playlists

playing cozy games

making my room more whimsical / how to make your room more whimsical

attempting to follow a reciepe in another language

random dreams Ive had (+why you think you had them, their meaning, did it predict something?)

guessing how magic tricks work + learning them

revisiting childhood (trying your old hobbies, watching old favourite movies, etc)

trying to write a poem with random words that a random word generator gives me

interviewing strangers about their weirdest dream (or any other topic)

creating my own religion

creating my own holiday and celebrating it

reacting to beauty standars from different countries (and trying to look like that)

trying to do my followers homework

analysing a movie/book

asmr

how to add whimsy into your life

what your … says about you

answering strange questions

journaling prompts/questions for deep thinkers

my thoughts on …

creating a soundtrack for my life

reacting to embarrasing stories

reacting to mandala effects

taking uquizzes

asking strangers “whats the most interesting thing about you?”

letting a yes or no wheel decide my fate for a day 

going out and collecting things for my junk journal 

inventing my own country and language

letting strangers write a story sentence by sentence 

testing creativity techniques for a day

designing my dream life

conspiracy theories that I believe in 

reacting to random conspiracy theories

romanticising life 

choosing 5 things from all of the bucketlists ive ever made and completeing them

taking random personality tests

journal tour

yapping about (specific topic) while coloring/drawing

trying to be more creative

─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─

┆ RATING MY FOLLOWERS…

…letterboxd top 4

…style

…music taste

…instagram profiles

…rooms

…pictures as kids

…dreams

…deepest secrets

…crushes

…wishlists

…favourite (movies, songs,etc)

…journals

[glowettee]

✧ some girls collect books like other people collect apologies ✧ | aria montgomery

you know that girl who always looks like she’s coming from a bookstore or a heartbreak? that’s aria montgomery. oversized sweater slipping off one shoulder. spiral notebook clutched like a secret. vintage ring that doesn’t match but still looks intentional. she’s the reason why half of us still romanticize rainy days and weird thrift store finds.

aria isn’t the dark academia girl who quotes aristotle or does latin translations for fun, she’s the one who writes poems in her margins during math class, the one who shows up to school wearing velvet in september, and the one who knows how to turn every trauma into a metaphor.

i wanted to talk about what makes her the ✧ dark dream girl ✧ of rosewood, and how you can borrow that energy for your own dark academia-coded study + lifestyle routine.

(i tried a very poetic approach to this post, if you wanna see more, go follow my substack)

✧ the emotional foundation: aestheticism as survival

aria doesn’t just like pretty things, she needs them. for girls like her, beauty is a shield. it’s the perfume you spray before crying. it’s the eyeliner you perfect after your trust is broken. aria uses art and literature the way some people use therapists: she confesses to her canvas, she bleeds into her journal.

she was never just “quirky.” she was trying to survive in the most beautiful way possible.

you don’t do it to impress anyone. you do it to stay soft in a world that keeps trying to roughen you up.

✧ your aria-inspired academic lifestyle

studying isn’t boring when it’s a little bit haunted.

dark academia isn’t only about reading old books. it’s about how you live when you believe everything could be meaningful.

♡ your study rituals:

light a candle before you open your books (yes, even during the day. bonus points if it’s sandalwood or “old library” scented)

romanticize writing essays by doing them in cursive first, or outlining in your favorite pen

create a spotify playlist with dark academia music

keep a book in your bag at all times. your goal is to look like you just escaped a literature class from 1885.

♡ your tools:

a notebook that feels like it’s holding secrets (leather-bound, moleskine, or something you DIY with pressed flowers and tape)

highlighters in muted tones: deep burgundy, antique rose, sage

sticky notes with lines from poems you don’t fully understand, but feel anyway

your favorite pen that feels like it glides across paper when you write something dramatic

✧ the aria montgomery wardrobe theory

aria never dressed for trends, she dressed like a plot twist. litterally. you don’t have to copy her exact looks (feather earrings are very 2012 and that’s okay), but you can channel her ✧ vibe ✧ with this updated formula i created:

🖤 wear textures that feel like stories:

velvet, lace, knit, wool, mesh

things that look like they belong in an old attic or a cursed boarding school

🖤 color palette:

oxblood, ink black, ash grey, cream, plum, antique gold

the kind of colors that make you look like you know how to read tarot and annotate your syllabus

🖤 silhouette:

long coats, ankle boots, chunky scarves, asymmetrical hemlines

anything that gives “i’m on my way to find answers in the rain”

🖤 accessories:

rings on every other finger

book earrings, tiny lockets, vintage glasses

always wear something slightly off, a detail that makes people pause

✧ soft-spoken girls with sharp minds

aria’s quietness isn’t passive. it’s calculated. she observes everything. she remembers everything. and she hides her strength in softness.

when you adopt her mindset, your silence becomes strategy. your softness becomes unsettling. be the mystery and the solution. be the girl who reads you like a book, but won’t even dog-ear the page.

✧ making your life a literary masterpiece

aria montgomery’s entire vibe is living like she’s the main character in a half-sad, half-beautiful novel.

🕯 journal like it’s your only witness

don’t just “take notes.” write diary entries. write how your teacher’s voice sounded like static today. how you saw a bird and thought about someone who doesn’t call anymore.

don’t just do to-do lists. write manifestos.

“today i will be quiet but terrifying. i will get an A and feel nothing. i will smile like i know something they don’t.”

🎞 document everything

take pictures of your desk at golden hour

scan your coffee cup stains and call it “visual poetry”

make your notes beautiful. pretend someone will find them 100 years from now.

🖋 write poetry like it’s a weapon

start with a feeling. disguise it with metaphors.

every time someone makes you feel like nothing, write something beautiful to prove them wrong.

✧ mindy’s personal tips on ariafying your life

💌 keep one book that feels like your personality. reread it every year. 📚 annotate your textbooks like they’re love letters. 🖼 print out art that makes you feel too much and tape it near your desk. 🎭 give every outfit a backstory: “this is what i wore to break someone’s heart in an old bookstore.” 🕯 whisper poetry in the mirror when you don’t feel pretty.

✧ parting thoughts

aria montgomery was never just “the artsy girl.” she was an entire ✧ emotional atmosphere ✧. and if you’ve ever felt too sensitive, too strange, too poetic for this world... you’re not alone. you’re pll-coded. you’re aria-coded. and that makes you dangerous in the most beautiful way.

you don’t have to collect apologies. you can collect books. collect outfits. collect love letters to yourself. and most importantly, collect proof that you felt everything and survived anyway.

i hope you all love this poetic approach, an interest of mine is to study poetry and i wanted to give a more poetic writing style for this, i love this pll series so much and i hope you all do too.

[urmomschocolatemilk]

Simon Riley x Alternative!fem!reader

I went thrifting td with a friend and got this idea. Reminder that my inbox is open ghost headcanons and requests

If there was one thing Simon knew about you from the moment the two of you met, it was that you loved to sew. Almost every piece of clothing you owned was handmade or altered. You’d cut up shirts, using the lace or frill at the top and add it to another piece of clothing. You’d tailor dresses and shirts for your friends and family and always patch up Simon's on base uniform.  

You weren't sure what made sitting in front of the sewing machine, eyes trained on a certain strip of whatever you were working on that was so therapeutic but it was. Not only was it that you loved the art of sewing, but in-store brands never seemed to have something you liked, or fit your personal style, so being able to make your own clothing really came in handy.

Your birthday was coming around and Simon, being the best boyfriend he was, had already picked a restaurant and booked a reservation. What you didn't know however, was that he’d been learning to sew for the past couple of months because he wanted to make you a dress that you would absolutely adore. He knew nothing he could buy would cut it, and he also knew that you loved handmade gifts. So, he found that this was the perfect gift. 

Now Simon knew what you liked about your clothes and what you didn't. For example, you didn't like light tones because you felt they highlighted any hyperpigmentation you had. Or that you didn't like to wear dresses with too high a slit on the side because you felt that it caused the fabric to fall weirdly around your legs.

Even with all this knowledge Simon didn't want to get it wrong. He wanted this gift to be perfect and as previously stated, something you’d adore. So, he stole your sketch book, which contained every preview of a design you’d created in the past year and flipped through it. Taking mental notes of each similarity and alteration.  

The week after that Simon enrolled in a regularly scheduled sewing class to begin working on his project. Simon did feel out of place there, especially at the start. He was the only man there, let alone a 6’2 military buff, but the instructor didn't treat him any differently, and he didnt pay any mind to it either.

“You want this to be your first project?” the teacher asked when Simon first showed her the sketch. He nodded. “This is quite difficult for a beginner. You understand that, yes?”

Simon shrugged ‘It’s going to be a gift.”  

Every week, twice a week Simon showed up to class. He never skipped a session. He needed this dress to be perfect. It took a month for him to get it looking decent, and then another half month to get it looking perfect. It seemed he was a fast learner.  

Finally, he was able to take it home, and the first place it went was to the dry cleaners. He wasn't going to risk throwing his masterpiece, and more importantly, your gift, into the washing machine to get ruined. Then when he picked it up he folded it neatly and placed it in a gorgeous red velvet box he had bought.  

Hiding it was easier than Simon had expected it to be, considering that you lived together and every part of the house was easily accessible to you. The only thing you didn't ever touch was his desk. So, he decided to keep it there, placing it at the bottom of the desk cabinet and neatly stacking some papers and folders around it to keep it concealed.   

Finally, the day came around and you were just about ready to begin getting ready for dinner when he stopped you mid-way into the bathroom.  

“I want to show you something,” Simon said, taking your hand and sitting you down on the bed. You furrowed your eyebrows, slightly concerned.  

“Is everything okay?” You asked  

“Just wait here,” he told you, walking swiftly out of the room and into his office. Simon rarely smiled, like really smiled, but when he came back into the room, red velvet box in hand his lips were turned up in subtle excitement.  

“What's this?” you asked with a grin, taking the box from him and running your hand over the soft, plush exterior.  

“Your birthday present," he answers. Simon is nervous as he watches you lift the lid, placing it gently next to you and taking out the soft fabric in the box. Your lips part in awe as you realize what it is, and you pinch it at the top, holding it out in front of you and letting it unravel itself. He watches as your eyes glaze over it slowly, taking in every detail. You love it. 

“Where did you get this?” you ask, not taking your eyes off the beautiful piece of fabric. He swears he can see your eyes glittering in the light as you look at the dress.  

“I made it.” He states. You’re already smiling, but when you hear his answer, your smile widens. You look beautiful, he thinks.  

“You made this?” You repeat excitedly, your head turning to look up at him. He nodded. “This is gorgeous baby!” You were so touched by the length and effort he had put into something for you. You knew he didn't know how to sew so the fact that he learned to and took the time to learn what you liked and didn't like made your heart bloom with adoration.  

“You like it lovie’?” he asked. You nodded profusely, setting the dress aside as you stood and threw your arms around him. Pressing a kiss to his lips you answered.  

“I love it.” 

[gilbertscurls]

Can you make a matt or chris fic based of the TikTok trend where the reader is cooking naked

hope you like it!! <3

Side of Me ➵ Chris Sturniolo

The apartment was warm, the kind of cozy heat that came with low lighting and simmering pots on the stove. The muted amber glow spilled out from under the kitchen cabinets, highlighting the pale marble countertops that you leaned against. Your playlist hummed softly, mixing upbeat pop with classic R&B, a perfect backdrop for the spontaneous mood you’d found yourself in.

Chris had left an hour earlier, promising to grab coffee for you both and insisting he’d be back “in, like, ten minutes tops.” You’d rolled your eyes, knowing he’d get sidetracked by any interesting find at the local thrift store he always passed on the way back. You didn’t mind. It gave you the perfect window to play out an idea that had been sitting at the back of your mind.

It started innocently enough: a TikTok trend, something you’d giggled at with your friends but never thought of actually trying. But here you were, apron tied loosely over bare skin, warmth brushing over your cheeks as the stove’s heat and your anticipation mingled. The pot of pasta sauce bubbled contentedly, releasing the aroma of basil and garlic into the small space. It felt a little absurd, a little silly, but exhilaratingly carefree.

You’d just settled into the rhythm of stirring when you heard it: the jangle of keys, the shuffling in the hallway.

A part of you thought of scrambling for your oversized hoodie thrown over the dining chair, but it was too late. The door swung open, and Chris stepped in, still laughing at some unseen joke.

“Babe, you wouldn’t believe—” His words cut off as he took in the scene. His eyes widened, mouth parting slightly in shock, the bag of coffee beans slipping in his grasp until he caught it at the last second. Silence fell like a velvet curtain between you two, interrupted only by the sizzle of sauce.

You bit your lip, trying not to break into nervous laughter. “Hey, Chris,” you managed, voice light but with an edge of sheepishness.

His gaze swept over you, from the mess of your hair to the dip of the apron that barely grazed your thighs. He blinked, once, twice, and then let out a low whistle that made your stomach flip.

“So, should I ask what’s on the menu?” He arched an eyebrow, but there was no teasing in his tone. Just pure, unfiltered amusement and something else that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Pasta,” you quipped, giving the spoon a playful twirl in the pot. “And, apparently, a side of… me?”

Chris laughed, deep and bright, closing the space between you in a few strides. He set the bag down on the counter and reached out, fingers brushing against your arm as if checking if this was real. “I knew I took too long. I should disappear more often if this is how you spend the time.”

The heat from his touch seeped into you, an intoxicating blend of comfort and excitement. “Maybe you should,” you teased, eyes catching the way his expression softened and his smile crinkled the corners of his eyes.

He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your temple, before pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. “Next time, give me a heads-up. I’d hate to interrupt a masterpiece in progress.”

You rolled your eyes, but your grin was impossible to hide. “You never did like spoilers.”

“Nope,” Chris agreed, sliding his arms around your waist, the forgotten coffee beans tumbling to the counter with a thud. “And this?” He gestured at the apron and the playful glint in your eyes. “This is worth the surprise.”

The night stretched out, filled with laughter, tangled limbs, and a cooling pot of pasta that neither of you touched until the early morning hours.

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom, @sturniolowhore69, @faith5drpepper, @emely9274, @psychologyloverfr, @lovetaylorrussellgrr, @conspiracy-ash, @helpimateenagerinlove, @ghostlythinggoingaround, @sturmatt

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

WE NEED MORE SUBBY PUPPY SLASH

A/n: This might kinda suck but I needed to start and finish something and this seemed easy NO IDEA WHERE THE IDEA CAME FROM BUT IT'S A LITTLE EXTRA

Warnings: Smut, use of toys, multiple orgasms, cum eating, slight pet play, Slash is technically a prostitute, I will be repenting for my sins but if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

You'd strapped Slash to a chair in your room, sitting him in front of the bed so you'd have somewhere comfortable to sit while you watched.

Suctioned to the seat was a dildo, a vibrating one with lots of fun textures you were were driving him insane. You had the remote for it in your hand, beside you were two more controlling the small bullet toys strapped to his cock.

His breathing was heavy and weighted, whines mixing with his muffled moans as he choked around the ball gag in his mouth, drool dribbling down his chin and onto the chair between his spread legs.

He'd cum more times than you could count and you didn't plan on ending this torture anytime soon, you knew how much he loved it even if he begged you to stop, which he couldn't.

Between his feet on the floor was a glass, a fancy one from a set you found at a thrift store. The rest were kept in the kitchen for special occasions, but this one was specifically used for Slash.

Right now it sat half full of his cum, the towel under it collecting the strings that missed.

You sat naked on the edge of the bed, touching yourself as you got off to Slash. You always started fully clothed, just wanted to watch him, but the more times he came, the whinier he got, you never made it through this without getting off.

You pressed a button on one of the remotes, the one for the dildo deep inside him at just the right angle. He jumped, a loud sob leaving him. His cock jerked and more cum dripped out, you loved seeing him as a little faucet, incapable of stopping as his balls drained.

His blushing tip, flushed body, perky nipples. He was so sensitive and it was all going to waste.

You moved closer to him, sitting in his lap, the heat of your cunt hovering over him only making things worse for him. You undid the strap of the gag and pulled it out of his mouth, letting him relax his jaw.

Slash leaned forward as much as he could, resting his forehead on your shoulder. "Ah- I-I c-ah-! Can't cum anymore!" He whined. "It-it hurts, master, please!"

You lifted his chin up so he was looking at you. You smiled down at him warmly. "Poor thing, sitting here getting exactly what he wants and he's complaining?" You asked, staring at his puffy and bruised lips, chin wet with saliva and cheeks streaked with tears. "I haven't even cum once, I'm giving you everything and you've given nothing."

His eyes widened at the realization, he lived here rent free and made a mess every day, this happened at least once a week. "Please, master, I-I can do it, I- ah-fucking-ngh Christ!" You felt his cock twitch, bumping your ass as more cum shot from him.

You watched his eyes glaze over, every thought leaving him. His body was reacting to every feather light touch, even the softest breath had a small bead trailing from his slit.

You watched in awe as your masterpiece came to be, your perfect pet. You happily undid the cloth around his wrists and ankles keeping him tied to the chair along with the taking off the bullets on his dick.

He slowly got up from the chair, using you as support while you stared amusedly at his hole stretching around the toy until it was fully out.

Slash curled up at the foot of your bed, body shaking and his eyes were droopy and crossed. You picked the cup from the ground and carried it over to him. He used whatever strength he had left to hold himself up to make it even just a little bit easier.

"Careful, puppy." You instructed, holding the cup to Slash's pouty and quivering lips. "Don't spill any or we're gonna have to make another cup, and you wouldn't want that now would you?" He drank slowly, making sure every drop hit his tongue.

You watched his throat bob as he chugged his salty seed. "Aren't you happy we had pineapple for dessert?" You asked in a teasing tone. "You should be happy this is all I need from you for letting you stay in my apartment, puppy."

You took the glass away once he was done, not minding the little bit that was on his cheeks, and set it on the nightstand before pulling out the drawer, taking out your own toy and setting it to the right setting.

Slash didn't have to do much, seeing him lying there all used up at the end of the day was all you needed to finish the job your fingers had started on yourself.

"Such a good puppy, aren't you?" You said through soft moans. "Such a pretty puppy."

[burntsecrets]

Sweet Chaos

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader Word Count: 1784 Summary: While staying in a cozy inn during a case, Sam surprises you with a gingerbread house kit he picked up at the local store. Warnings: Fluff, playful banter, NSFW, explicit sexual content, consensual intimacy A/N: This is for @moosekateer13 I'm your secret Santa for @spnfanficpond's Secret Santa 2024. I'm using the prompt for the @fluff-cember challenge, day 6: gingerbread house. I hope you like it!

The sound of the wind whistling outside the inn’s window pairs perfectly with the crackling of the small fireplace across the room. The case has been quiet so far—too quiet—but for tonight, you’ve managed to carve out a rare moment of peace. You’re curled up on the couch, flipping idly through an old book you picked up at the local thrift store when the sound of Sam clearing his throat pulls your attention. He stands in the doorway, his tall frame slightly hunched to accommodate the low ceiling. In his hands, he holds a brightly colored box, his dimples deepening as he grins at you.

“What’s that?” you ask, sitting up and tucking the blanket around your legs. Sam steps closer, holding up the box—a gingerbread house kit. It’s kitschy, with cartoon snowmen and candy canes decorating the front, but something about the gesture warms your chest. “Seriously? You bought that?”

Sam chuckles, setting the box on the coffee table in front of you. “I figured we could use a break. And hey, it’s festive.” You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. “Alright, Winchester. Let’s do this.”

The table is soon transformed into a sugary battleground. The kit includes walls, a roof, frosting in a plastic bag, and an assortment of candies that look slightly questionable but smell undeniably sweet. Sam carefully arranges everything with the precision of someone who has built a thousand IKEA bookshelves while you eye the frosting like a hawk–already scheming. “Okay, we start with the base,” Sam says, his brow furrowed in concentration as he pipes a line of frosting along the edge of the cookie walls. His big hands are surprisingly steady, and you can’t help but admire his focus.

“That’s cute,” you tease, picking up your own piping bag. “But my side is going to blow yours out of the water.”

“Oh, we’re making this a competition now?” Sam raises an eyebrow, his grin growing. “I thought this was supposed to be a team effort.”

“Teamwork is overrated,” you reply, nudging his elbow just enough to make his line of frosting wobble.

“Hey!” he protests, laughing. “You’re going to regret that.”

It starts innocently enough. You’re both diligently working on your respective sides of the gingerbread house, each stealing glances at the other’s progress. Sam’s side is neat, with perfectly aligned gumdrops and a roof that could be in a magazine. Yours… well, it has personality. “Why do you have all the gumdrops?” you ask, narrowing your eyes as Sam sneaks yet another piece of candy onto his side.

“Because I got here first,” he says, popping one into his mouth for good measure.

“That’s cheating,” you declare, grabbing the frosting bag and aiming it at him. Without thinking, you swipe a dollop of frosting across the bridge of his nose. The look of pure shock on his face makes you burst out laughing.

“Oh, you’re gonna pay for that,” Sam warns, his voice low and teasing. Before you can react, he dips his finger into the frosting and smears it across your cheek. You gasp, feigning outrage as you grab a handful of flour from the nearby bowl and toss it at him. It’s chaos after that—frosting, flour, and candy flying in every direction. Sam’s laugh is loud and carefree, the kind of sound you don’t hear often enough from him, and it fills the small room like sunlight.

By the time the battle subsides, the table is a disaster. Flour dusts the air, and bits of candy stick to your fingers. The gingerbread house stands in the center, a wobbly, candy-laden masterpiece that looks like it barely survived a storm. You’re both out of breath, sitting side by side on the couch and surveying the mess. “Well,” you say, brushing a streak of frosting from your arm. “It’s not winning any awards, but it’s ours.”

Sam leans forward, inspecting the lopsided roof with a critical eye. “It’s got character,” he agrees, his voice soft. You glance at him, your heart skipping a beat, when you notice the frosting still smeared on his nose. Without thinking, you reach out and wipe it away with your thumb. His green eyes meet yours, and for a moment, the room feels impossibly quiet.

“Thanks,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. Before you can respond, he leans in, closing the space between you. His lips are warm and soft against yours, the kiss slow and sweet, like the moment itself. When he pulls back, his hand lingers on your cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray bit of flour.

The air between you shifts, charged with something deeper, something you’ve both been skirting around for weeks. His eyes darken, flicking down to your lips before meeting your gaze again. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he admits, his voice husky.

Your breath hitches, and before you can think, you’re tugging him closer, kissing him with a fervor that surprises even you. His hands find your waist, pulling you onto his lap as the kiss deepens, his tongue brushing against yours in a way that sends a shiver down your spine. Your fingers tangle in his hair, and he groans softly against your mouth, the sound making your pulse race.

Sam’s hands slide under your sweater, his touch warm against your skin as he trails his fingers up your back. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his lips moving to your neck, kissing and nibbling along your jawline until you’re squirming in his lap.

You tug at his flannel shirt, pushing it off his shoulders to reveal the toned muscles underneath. He’s breathtaking, all broad shoulders and lean strength, and the way he’s looking at you makes your knees weak. “Sam,” you whisper, your voice barely audible as he shifts, laying you down on the couch and settling between your thighs.

He pauses, his hand cupping your cheek as he searches your eyes. “Are you sure?” he asks, his voice gentle despite the tension in his body.

“Yes,” you breathe, pulling him down for another kiss.

Sam’s lips trail fire down your neck as his hands caress your sides, the warmth of his touch chasing away every thought but him. He shifts his weight, pressing his body against yours, and the heat of him sears through your clothes. Your hands slide over the planes of his shoulders, gripping him as his mouth moves lower, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone.

The soft glow of the fire bathes the room in flickering light, casting shadows across Sam’s face as he pulls back to look at you. His hair falls slightly into his eyes, his lips swollen, and his chest heaving. “You’re incredible,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. “I don’t think I can take my time with you.”

Your fingers skim over his jaw, your thumb tracing the edge of his lips. “Who says I want you to?” you tease, your voice breathy. The words light a spark in him, and he leans down, claiming your lips with renewed intensity.

In one fluid motion, he sits back, lifting you into his arms as though you weigh nothing. You let out a soft laugh of surprise, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carries you to the bed. He lays you down gently, his eyes never leaving yours as he settles over you. The tension between you hums like a live wire, the weight of his body grounding you in the moment.

His hands are sure as they slide beneath your sweater, pushing it up and over your head. You shiver as the cool air brushes your skin, but Sam’s touch is quick to warm you. He leans down, his lips brushing across your shoulder, then lower, kissing along the curve of your breast. Your back arches as his hands explore, every touch sending sparks skittering down your spine.

You tug at his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against yours. He obliges, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside. Your hands roam over his chest, marveling at the heat and strength of him, the way his muscles flex beneath your touch. Sam groans softly as your fingers trace the lines of his abdomen, his hips pressing against yours in response.

“God, you drive me crazy,” he murmurs, his lips finding yours again. His kiss is fierce, all-consuming, and you lose yourself in the sensation of him. His hands trail down your sides, hooking into the waistband of your pants and tugging them down. You help him, shimmying out of them as he follows with his own, leaving you both bare and vulnerable in the firelight.

Sam pauses, his gaze raking over you as though committing every detail to memory. “You’re perfect,” he whispers, his voice reverent. His words make your heart flutter, but there’s no time to dwell on them as he leans down, his lips brushing over your ear. “Let me show you.”

What follows is a blur of sensation—his lips and hands exploring every inch of you, the way he whispers your name like a prayer, the way his body moves with yours in perfect rhythm. The fire crackles in the hearth, the snow falls softly outside, and the world narrows to the heat between you, the way he makes you feel like you’re the only thing that matters.

Time seems to stand still as you reach the peak together, his name spilling from your lips as he groans yours into your neck. He holds you close, his body trembling slightly as the moment washes over you both. The room is silent except for the sound of your breathing, the fire casting a warm glow over the two of you.

Sam rolls onto his side, pulling you into his arms. His hand brushes your hair back from your face, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I think we make a damn good team,” he murmurs, his voice low and content.

You smile, resting your head against his chest. “Only when you don’t steal all the gumdrops,” you reply, your tone teasing but affectionate.

He chuckles, his laugh rumbling against your cheek. “Fair enough. Next time, I’ll share.” His arms tighten around you, and you let yourself relax into his embrace, the warmth of him and the fire lulling you into a blissful haze.

The snow continues to fall outside, blanketing the world in quiet, but inside the inn, the earlier chaos has given way to something softer, deeper, and undeniably real. For now, the case and the danger can wait. Tonight, it’s just you and Sam, and that’s more than enough.

[corruptedcaps]

Mallbrat

This story is based on this wonderful tweet by @shadow211e. Enjoy!

Despite Mel coming from a rich family, she had always seen herself as someone who was above the shallow, materialistic pursuits of the women who frequented the upscale mall in the neighboring town called Eden. She hated how bitchy and superficial the people were that frequented Eden, she was much more at home on the soccer field. Yet, today was different. She had come here with a pure intention: to find the perfect gift for her friend Katie.

Katie was a huge lover of fashion and followed all the latest trends but could barely afford the clothes she bought from the thrift store. Katie often told Mel that she was happy with her thrift store finds, that it made her more resourceful but Mel could see the sadness behind her best friend’s eyes.

Mel knew it would be hard, being a tomboy shopping for a dyed in the wool girly girl but she was determined to get her something perfect. It was just so overwhelming. The mall's glistening storefronts, adorned with designer labels, had always made her uncomfortable, but now she felt exhausted looking at a myriad of shoes, dresses and makeup, not knowing where to begin.

Taking a moment to sit down and gather her thoughts she watched as the bitchy girls of her school stride past flicking their hair and giggling at a joke she was sure she was the butt of.

As she was about to get up suddenly a perfume saleswoman appeared and sprayed something in her face. “Hello Miss, don’t you just love the smell of our new signature scent, ‘Entitled’. It’s such a hit that the mall will be pumping it through the air conditioning for today only. Make sure to buy your bottle before you leave today.” The saleswoman said to Mel who was coughing as she took the sweet fragrance in the face.

Before Mel could complain the woman had disappeared into thin air. Annoyed but undeterred from her task, Mel went back to walking the mall. As she strolled past boutique after boutique, something strange began to happen. Her posture straightened, and her steps became more deliberate, mimicking the confident strides of the women who were impeccably dressed around her. She pushed her chest out in front of her and walked with her chin high in a superior pose.

As she walked past store front after store front gazing at the opulent wears in the windows her mind started to drift from whether ‘Katie would like that’ to ‘I’d look good in that’. One outfit in particular caught her eye. It was a snakeskin style top that looked to have less fabric than her soccer shorts but she felt inexplicably drawn to it. She couldn’t stop picturing herself in its revealing curves.

She would have walked straight in to try it on only she got a look at herself in the windows reflection and nearly gagged. Her hair was messy, face dirty and her nails were chipped. She viewed her own reflection like the girls she saw earlier viewed her.

Mel sauntered into the upscale mall salon, her confidence preceding her. Locking eyes with a poised beautician, she snapped, "I need my hair cleaned and styled. My skin cleaned and moisturized, and my nails manicured. Make it quick." The beautician, catching the haughty undertone, nodded energetically and led her to an open chair.

As Mel settled into the plush seat, the beautician picked up the shampoo bottle labeled ‘Entitled’, the very same brand as the perfume that was spurted into Mel’s face earlier and worked diligently, washing away the remnants of soccer practice and transforming Mel's unruly hair into a sleek masterpiece. Meanwhile Mel found herself in a state of unexpected euphoria, a sensation induced by the intoxicating scent of the shampoo. The fragrance, like a veil of opulence, enveloped her senses, lulling her into a blissful reverie.

So enamoured with the aroma that Mel barely registered when the beautician put a facial mask on her as her hair dried. Her face tingled as she felt the dirt lift, bruises erase and her skin became smooth and imperfection less.

By the time her hair was dry Mel instinctively held out her hand, waiting for the beautician to start work on her nails. The beautician however was a pro and was manicuring Mel’s nails within seconds.

While the beautician worked, Mel’s internal dialogue shifted to a self-indulgent narrative. Thoughts of striving for success in soccer and excelling in academics seemed distant, replaced by a fixation on social standing and personal allure. "Who needs soccer? I'm destined for a life of extravagance," she thought, her mind now captivated by visions of high-society events and glamorous soirées.

As the beautician skillfully completed her work, Mel, now adorned in the aftermath of pampering, gazed for the first time at her reflection with a sense of vain satisfaction. The sleek hair, the impeccable facial, the manicured nails, and her impressive breasts painted a portrait of indulgence she couldn't help but revel in.

Maybe it was how straight her posture was now and how she stuck out her chest and held her chin high but Mel absolutely adored how big her tits now looked. They were practically spilling out of her top and she knew her cleavage would have heads turning.

“Good,” she thought to herself. “It’s about time I caught the eye of a man who can treat me to the finer things in life and is my monetary equal. I’ve wasted so much time with the boys at school. I need a man.”

The beautician, seemingly now intimidated by Mel, inquired cautiously, "Are you happy with the results miss?" Mel's eyes met her reflection once more, and with a dismissive wave, she retorted, "You didn't do much, darling. It's hard to improve upon perfection." The words hung in the air, leaving an awkward pause as the beautician grappled with the unexpected critique.

“But I suppose I better pay the ‘the help’. Here charge it to my black card.” Mel said coldly handing the beautician here matte steel credit card, the one her parents had given her but she had refused to use but now could think of nothing more satisfying than maxing it out.

“Thank you miss, we hope to see you again.” The beautician said as she quickly disappeared out of sight as Mel stared at her with disdain. Mel liked how it felt to have someone fear her. It made her pussy tingle.

Mel, fully immersed in the conceited realm she had embraced, stood up out of the chair and sauntered out of the salon. As she expected and enjoyed, all eyes were on her as she walked the mall floor.

She strode confidently into the store that held the outfit that had caught her eye earlier and snapped at the shop assistant to get it for her. The shop assistant quickly leapt to attention and got the outfit for Mel who rolled her eyes at the shop assistant for taking so long.

In the dressing room Mel joyously slipped into the tight outfit perfectly, her body contouring to fabric as if it was made for her. As she gazed lovingly at her reflection, a far cry from the girl that had entered the mall a few hours ago, something began to nag in her mind. This wasn’t right, this wasn’t her. She had come her for Katie not for herself.

And yet the longer she stared at her magnificent body the more she didn’t care. The once happy thoughts about friendship and empathy gave way to daydreams of a luxurious lifestyle, filled with adoration and admiration. "Katie can fend for herself. It’s time she learned that this world can be cruel… and so can I." Mel mused, her thoughts betraying a growing detachment from her former priorities.

Leaving the dressing room in the outfit she was about to pay for, she didn’t give a second thought to her old clothes laying on the floor until the shop assistant asked sheepishly what she should do with them.

“Burn them for all I care, they’re paupers rags as far as I’m concerned.” Mel said with cold detachment. She looked at the pile as a representation of her past life.

She spent the next few hours at the mall on a shopping spree. One outfit would not make up for years of neglect of her wardrobe. She needed clothes that reflected her station in life, one she had refused to embrace until now.

Along the way the same girls who had scoffed at her appearance earlier approached her cautiously but with new reverie. “You’re Mel right? You go to our school? We should hang out, girls like us need to stick together.” One of them had said.

Mel looked at them with a cold gaze, observing their demeanours. They were pretty and mean but Mel could see they feared her. She smirked knowing they’d be putty in her newly manicured hands. They would be perfect betas.

“If you must, but keep up I don’t have all day. Oh and it’s Mercedes.” She said with a turn on her expensive heels as she walked fast to make the girls try and keep up with her.

Before long the girls had filled her in on the most eligible men and the juiciest gossip. Their last leader had moved towns and they had a power vacuum that Mercedes was now only too happy to fill and they were only too happy to follow.

Mercedes was having such wicked fun that before she knew it the mall was closing. She had bought so much stuff that her new clique each held numerous bags for her as they followed her to the exit. Along the way Mercedes was sure to pick up several bottles of the perfume ‘Entitled’ as she left. She just loved its aroma.

Outside Katie stood waiting for Mel. Mel had told her at the beginning of the day that she had a surprise for Katie and to meet her at the mall. But now after waiting several hours Katie was beginning to worry.

Mercedes and her gang left the mall and made their way to the waiting limo Mercedes had ordered. Mercedes spotted Katie and with an evil smirk got close enough so her former friend could hear her say, “I really wish the mall would keep the riff raff further away from the property. They are ungodly eyesores.”

Katie went beet red at the cruel comment and quickly made herself scarce. She didn’t recognize this new girl that seemed to have her bully group ensnared but there was something so familiar about her.

The End

[tacktoons]

NUBBINS’ HEADCANONS!!

⚠️TW depictions of dead animals!!⚠️

"Artistic Inspiration Gone Wrong"

Nubbins once tried to paint a portrait using the blood from a roadkill opossum. He called it "authentic red." Unfortunately, the "paint" smelled so bad that Drayton tossed the whole canvas out the window—along with Nubbins, who landed in the pig pen.

Leatherface’s Unexpected Reaction

When Nubbins brought a particularly decayed squirrel to Leatherface, claiming it would make a "cute hat," Leatherface let out a rare growl of frustration and launched the squirrel straight into the air. It landed on the ceiling fan, where it spun in circles for five minutes before flying off and landing in Drayton’s soup.

The Kitchen Ambush

Nubbins once snuck a dead crow into the oven, hoping Drayton would roast it for dinner. Instead, Drayton turned on the heat without checking, and the house filled with the smell of burning feathers. Drayton yelled, "WHO PUT ROADKILL IN MY OVEN?" and Nubbins, completely unbothered, replied, "I thought it’d crisp up nice!"

A Very Unwanted Bedmate

One night, Nubbins brought a dead raccoon into the house and thought it’d be funny to tuck it into Chop Top’s bed. Chop Top woke up screaming when he rolled over and felt "something furry." Nubbins laughed so hard he fell into the hallway table, shattering Drayton’s favorite lamp.

Fly Swatting Gone Wild

After hiding a dead rabbit in his room for "artistic purposes," the inevitable swarm of flies arrived. Leatherface walked in with his chainsaw, mistaking the buzzing for a hive of bees, and ended up cutting through the wall while trying to "fix the problem." Drayton walked in, saw the hole, and screamed, "THIS IS WHY WE CAN’T HAVE NICE THINGS!"

"Dinner's Ready!"

Nubbins once brought in a flattened armadillo and plopped it onto the dinner table, proudly announcing, "I made dinner easy for you, Drayton!" Drayton responded by slamming a pot lid down over the armadillo and chasing Nubbins around the house, yelling, "YOU THINK THIS IS A RESTAURANT FOR ROADKILL?"

Taxidermy Fail

Inspired by a taxidermy book he stole from a thrift store, Nubbins tried to preserve a dead possum. Unfortunately, his version of taxidermy involved a staple gun, duct tape, and glitter glue. When he unveiled his "masterpiece," Drayton laughed so hard he choked on his coffee, while Chop Top screamed, "Why does it have googly eyes?!"

Surprise Package

Nubbins thought it’d be hilarious to leave a dead bird in the mailbox for the postman. When the postman opened it and screamed, Drayton had to smooth things over by giving him a free jar of "mystery chili." Nubbins claimed it was "just a joke," but the postman never came back without a can of mace.

The Freezer Incident

Drayton opened the freezer one day to find a whole dead armadillo, several frogs, and what might’ve been half a raccoon. Nubbins tried to defend himself, saying, "I’m saving them for a rainy day!" Drayton threw the whole freezer outside, yelling, "YOU’RE NOT TURNING THIS HOUSE INTO A DAMN PETTING ZOO FOR DEAD THINGS!"

The Booby-Trapped Closet

Nubbins once thought it’d be funny to rig a dead cat to fall out of a closet as a "prank." When Chop Top opened the door and the cat landed on his head, he screamed so loud that Leatherface burst in with the chainsaw, thinking it was an intruder. The chaos ended with the chainsaw slicing through a chair, the cat rolling into the corner, and Drayton yelling, "THIS FAMILY IS A DISGRACE!"

[morgansmornings]

Making a Masterpiece

Closed starter for @missmargomuse616.

~~~*~~~

It should not have been a surprise to her. Over the last few months it seemed that there was a rise in articles about local places of business that were getting a spotlight on them that almost felt random. Every business from thrift stores, to boutiques that catered to the more average person rather than the rich and famous. Even the pharmacies that had been there for decades before chain owned companies grew up in the cracks. It was consistent and different. Starting from the bottom half of Manhattan and being worked up the rungs of streets.

It was a surprise to Jay when she came down from her upstairs apartment well beyond early for most people to find memos on her office desk from her managers. Erica and Simone that they had both noticed a young woman that was new to the area, making herself at home and working. Nothing about the memos stood out to Jay as she did employ a fair few college kids that needed the money or experience. Often getting their friends to come in and hang out or to do their assignments. Something Jayden herself remembered from her younger years with Beth.

So without much thought behind it, she added the pages to the flailing cabinet drawer where she kept the rest of their kin and set about her day. The coffee pots being prepped and timed for fifteen minutes before opening. Heading back to the kitchen she started in on that day's doughs. Kneading, stretching, shaping, and panning the breads, pies, muffins, cookies and more. Starting on the malasadas and Jian Dui as the specials of the week.

By the time she was done, she had most of the morning’s daily baking done, leaving those on the afternoon and evening shifts with a lighter load to do for the next day. It was always calming for her to be the only one in the kitchen before her staff came in. Not that she needed to be, as her cafe was doing well enough on its own that it could reasonably run without much input from her. But the work made the days pass. Helped get her mind off of the things she had seen over the years.

Unlocking the front doors, patting her dog Jenna on the way. The dog was basking in her warming corner of the shop. The sun was now peaking over the horizon, along with her internal clock that it was nearing 5:30 in the morning and that it was time to open up for the day. It wasn’t even half an hour later when she heard the gentle thunks of her handmade tree of life bamboo wind chime telling her that she had company.

“Just a minute!” Jayden called out from the kitchen, pulling a fresh pan of banana nut and poppy seed muffins from the oven. Setting them down on the prep counter she came out wiping her hands across the bottom of her blue apron.

“Welcome to Morgan’s Mornings, what can I get you this morning?”

[cherrygirlystuff]

Dirty Chic: Embrace the Messy, Unpolished Style of the Indie Era

Hey babe! 🌸 If you’re all about that effortlessly cool, messy-but-in-the-best-way look, then you’re going to love what I’ve got for you today. Welcome to Dirty Chic, the ultimate blog dedicated to the unpolished, DIY fashion that defined the indie scene. We’re talking thrift store gems, DIY tutorials, and outfit inspo that’s equal parts chaotic and chic. So grab your scissors, dust off your favorite thrifted band tee, and let’s get into it! 🎧✨

The Dirty Chic Aesthetic: Embrace the Chaos, Rock the Unpolished Look 🌟

Let’s be real – fashion in the indie era wasn’t about perfection. It was about breaking the rules, mixing and matching, and creating looks that were as unique as you are. The dirty chic aesthetic is all about embracing that raw, unpolished vibe. Think ripped jeans, oversized band tees, scuffed-up boots, and a little bit of grunge magic. It’s messy, it’s bold, and it’s totally you.

This look isn’t about following trends; it’s about making your own. So if you’re ready to dive into the world of DIY fashion, thrift store treasures, and outfit inspiration that’s perfectly imperfect, you’re in the right place.

1. DIY Fashion Tutorials: Create Your Own Indie Masterpieces 🎨

One of the best things about dirty chic style is that it’s all about DIY. Why buy something new when you can create something totally unique with your own hands? Here are a few DIY fashion tutorials that’ll have you looking like an indie icon in no time:

Ripped and Distressed Jeans: There’s nothing more indie than a pair of perfectly distressed jeans. Grab an old pair from your closet (or a thrift store find) and get ready to unleash your inner artist. Use a razor blade or scissors to carefully create rips and holes in the knees, thighs, or wherever you want to add some edge. Then, take a piece of sandpaper and rough up the fabric around the edges for that lived-in look. The more you wear them, the better they’ll look – trust me.

Customized Band Tees: Take your favorite band tee and give it a little indie makeover. Whether it’s cutting off the sleeves for a rocker vibe, cropping it for a more fitted look, or adding some bleach splatters for that grunge effect, the options are endless. You can even try screen printing your own design or adding some safety pins for a little punk flair. The goal is to make it your own and wear it with pride.

Patchwork Jackets: If you’ve got an old denim or leather jacket lying around, why not turn it into a statement piece? Gather some patches, fabric scraps, and even old bandanas, and start sewing or gluing them onto your jacket. You can go for a cohesive look or just throw on whatever catches your eye – the more eclectic, the better. This is your chance to wear your personality on your sleeve (literally).

DIY Accessories: Don’t forget about the little details! Create your own chokers, bracelets, or earrings using materials you already have at home. Try braiding some old shoelaces into a necklace, or stringing together some beads for a boho vibe. You can even repurpose old jewelry into something totally new. Indie fashion is all about creativity, so don’t be afraid to experiment.

2. Thrift Store Finds: The Treasure Hunt of Indie Fashion 🕵️‍♀️

If there’s one thing indie fashion lovers know, it’s that thrift stores are pure goldmines. There’s something magical about sifting through racks of second-hand clothes and finding that perfect piece that no one else has. Here’s how to make the most of your thrift store adventures:

Look for Statement Pieces: When you’re thrifting, keep an eye out for items that stand out. Whether it’s a vintage band tee, a funky printed dress, or a pair of high-waisted jeans that fit like a dream, the key is to find pieces that you can build an outfit around. Don’t be afraid to think outside the box – sometimes the most unexpected items turn into your favorite wardrobe staples.

Mix and Match Eras: One of the best things about thrift shopping is that you can find pieces from all different eras. Don’t be afraid to mix and match – pair a ’70s boho blouse with ’90s grunge jeans, or throw on a ’60s mod jacket over a modern dress. The beauty of dirty chic style is that it’s all about creating something new from the old.

Accessories Are Everything: Thrift stores are full of hidden gems when it comes to accessories. Look for unique belts, vintage bags, and quirky jewelry that you can add to your outfits. A cool pair of sunglasses or a chunky belt can take your look from basic to badass in no time.

Don’t Forget the DIY Potential: Even if you find something that’s not quite perfect, remember that you can always DIY it into something amazing. Whether it’s hemming a skirt, adding some patches to a jacket, or transforming a dress into a top, the possibilities are endless. Thrift shopping is all about seeing the potential in what you find.

3. Outfit Inspirations: Rock the Dirty Chic Look Like an Indie Icon 👗

Need some inspo on how to pull it all together? Here are a few outfit ideas that capture the essence of dirty chic style:

Grunge Goddess: Start with a pair of ripped jeans and an oversized band tee (bonus points if you DIY’d it). Throw on a flannel shirt over the top, and finish the look with some scuffed-up combat boots. Accessorize with a choker, a beanie, and a messy bun, and you’re ready to take on the world.

Boho Rebel: Pair a flowy, floral dress with a leather jacket and some chunky boots. Add a wide-brimmed hat and some layered necklaces for that boho-meets-grunge vibe. The key is to keep the look a little rough around the edges – think tousled hair and minimal makeup.

Vintage Vibes: Go for a retro look with high-waisted jeans, a tucked-in graphic tee, and a vintage blazer. Finish the look with some classic Converse or Docs, and throw on a pair of round sunglasses for that perfect indie touch. This look is all about mixing old and new in a way that feels totally fresh.

Punk Princess: Start with a plaid skirt or skinny jeans, and pair it with a cropped tee and a denim jacket covered in patches. Add some fishnet tights, a studded belt, and chunky boots to complete the look. Top it off with a bold lip color and some smudgy eyeliner for that ultimate punk rock edge.

Final Thoughts, Gorgeous: Let’s Get Messy and Chic with Indie Style 🌟

There you have it – all the tips, tricks, and inspo you need to rock the dirty chic look like the indie icon you are. Whether you’re DIY-ing your own fashion masterpieces, hunting for treasures at your local thrift store, or just throwing together a perfectly imperfect outfit, remember that the key to dirty chic style is confidence. It’s about embracing the chaos, making your own rules, and never being afraid to stand out.

So go ahead, babe – get messy, get creative, and most importantly, have fun with your style. After all, fashion is supposed to be a little wild, a little unpredictable, and totally you.

What’s your favorite thrift store find or DIY fashion project? Let’s chat in the comments and swap tips, tricks, and outfit inspo! 💕

[honey-minded-hivemind]

To give a small update, I've been making jewelry the past few days with pearls and necklaces with repurposed charms/earrings. It's pretty fun, to be honest. Has anyone here ever made jewelry before? A few relatives of mine used to make jewelery and sell it/gift it to people as a side job/hobby. It might just run in the family😅 This being said:

Imagine a Reader who makes jewelry...

Necklaces, chokers, bracelets, earrings, rings, anklets, you name it, they can and will make it.

Picky about your beads? Never fear! They have TONS of them! Bags and boxes and crates full, some repurposed from old pieces, some brand new, some from thrift stores or craft sections, it's all there! You like a certain color but want a gem for it? Reader has you covered! Amethyst, crystal, pearl, amber, fluorite, tiger's eye, garnet, pyrite, obsidian, etc. ! You want something more down-to-earth? Reader can do that, too! Wooden beads in all shapes and sizes and shades, crafted glass beads in different flora and fauna or abstract forms, even charms of metal and plastic and ceramic, if that's your style!

The platonic yamderes would definitely ADORE whatever Reader themed after them! A pair of earrings with lighting bolt charms and cloud puffs after Storm, complete with a weather-inspired necklace full of little cloud puffs and sun beads and rain crystals? She'd model it for you if you wanted! You want to make an entire cottage-core themed bracelet set with frogs and toads and mushrooms? Toad would love to be your muse, so you can capture their essence! You used animal bones and rough stones based on how Wolverine and Sabretooth are? Ohhhhh honey, they'd be supplying you with any bones you want, all while seeing how it looks on them. Point is, if you have ANYTHING that is based on or themed after any of the mutants, they are so going to be taking a look and talking about it!You want to sell your jewelry? They're your hype men. You need to find customers or a crowd who enjoys your craft? Surprise, the entire superhero, supervillain, and mutant communities are informed about it, and suddenly you have a steady stream of buyers. Oh, someone wants to show them in a gallery or show? They'll be pushing people towards your masterpieces, all while talking about the artist, who they know personally (you). You can bet the mutants who have some money tucked away buy the entire collections that are based on/themed around them (and they are NOT cheap when it comes to buying every last piece centered on them).

You can bet yourself that the platonic yans would be all for you and your craft, no matter the cost or trials it brings. H*ck, they're probably funding/donating to your art at this point, making sure you're never out of jewels, beads, threads, wires, metals, or jewelry pliers. If you need an extra hand with something, you have several willing volunteers. You need a new muse? Sign them up, they'll do all sorts of stuff with you to give you that inspiration you crave. You need a break from working too hard? Sit down, have some tea or coffee or orange juice, and let them help you wind down. They love you, and they love what you do, but they won't have you stretching yourself thin just to make ends meet. If you need anything, say the word and they'll be there. You've always been a pal, a friend, a sibling, or kid to them; let them repay the favor. You're their jewel, their gem, their lucky charm, and they wouldn't ever want to let you down.

(Should I make a post about the type of jewelry/sets/collections each X-Men Evolution character would have made by Reader based on them and their theme/colors/powers?)

[rom-e-o]

In your Scroogeverse, after the Wolves gain full custody of Bess' siblings and they move back to London back into Wolf's flat (still a few years off from them looking to buy that country cottage they end up in), Bess decides the flat is in much need of a makeover. So, what does she do? Naturally, THRIFTING! (Because this girl loves a bargain in any universe.) And she decides to bring her new sister-in-law along to bond. Plus, she feels a little braver going into the ritzier stores with someone like Connie by her side, still struggling to feel like she belongs in this new strata of society and all that.

I'm absolutely in love with how their passion for thrifting transcends universes (that feels so eternally fitting for these girls, haha).

I mean, I don't blame her. I imagine a bachelor's apartment after decades of depriving yourself of most joys in life could use ... a little TLC. Especially since they're going to both be enjoying the space. It's no longer only his flat. It just needs a little TLC and updating.

Connie is, of course, overjoyed at the invitation. A chance to bond with Bess? Um, OF COURSE she's game. They plan a whole day and route - this is gonna be thrifting with a PURPOSE, after all. She has a few stores in mind where she has had some luck with.

So, the day arrives, and they set out. They rent a car and driver for the day, just because thrifting can be heavy, and a car allows them to travel across town and have paparazzi pester them slightly less.

"So, we're looking for a little bit of everything, right?" Connie asks. "Anything off limits?"

Bess hums and mulls it over, thinking of all the rooms across the flat. They all need a little ... assistance, she thinks. "I think anything is fair game. Wolf hasn't updated his space in a while, and we're just looking to make things feel a little more ... homey."

"Oh, this is so exciting! Decorating is always so fun, but now you get to make the space up to suit you both as a couple!"

She gives Bess' shoulders a delighted squeeze as they pull up to the first store.

I imagine they girls start at some familiar places - thrift/vintage stores they've explored before. Some quaint places just filled with eclectic items. They look for smaller items first - maybe a cute spice shelf here, a beaded lamp/lampshade here. Maybe a lovely pair of velvet curtains to dress up the plain window blinds? They find some lovely, vintage paintings too, of course. Some feature lovely, dark-haired ladies, which Connie is quick to point out that Wolf will "surely adore."

They slowly work their way up, and at the next place, they find this amazing, Victorian-inspired full-length dressing mirror.

"Oh, just imagine this in the bedroom," Connie suggests dreamily. "You and Wolf taking turns helping each other into your outfits -- him zipping your dress, you fastening his cufflinks -- all while framed by this masterpiece? Oh, we should see if they have a chaise to pair with it! That way you and him have a place to sit while dressing.

Connie gets ... very much into helping out, haha. ^^;

She never pressures Bess into buying anything she clearly doesn't like. Connie, with her knowledge of what Bess and Wolf like, tries to find pieces that fit the bill, and paint a picture of how they might look styed.

As they fill the car with oil paintings, vases, hand-tufted pillows and more, one of the last places they go is one of those more expensive stores. There's a doorman, which woman waves to as she and Bess stroll in, arm-in-arm. It's definitely a high-class store, but the pieces are STUNNING, and they're not badly priced either for what they are. There are tons of heavy, gorgeous heritage furniture pieces.

There are GORGEOUS, pearlescent-finished wooden armoires, and an AMAZING Turkish rug that would look so gorgeous in front of the fireplace. "Perfect for cozying up - among other activities~"

Along the way, as Bess finds smaller items or things that she's a little hesitant to buy ("Ooooh, I love this, but don't want to overwhelm his flat with just my stuff! Maybe I'll think about this for now ... ") she sneaks in a few extra purchases of those items as future birthday/Christmas gifts.

I imagine there are some shoppers that ... give them looks. The ladies are well-known for their afflictions at this point with the Scrooge Twins, and while many people are kind, there are obviously many jealous people. I feel like many upper-society ladies feel like they somehow 'robbed' them of their chance.

I'm sure the ladies hear some gossip. ("Look at those two, flaunting their money. Have they no shame?")

And Connie is quick to roll her eyes with a smile and whisper to Bess, "As if they aren't shopping in the SAME store we are. Some people, I swear."

She's not letting anyone dull their day.

By the end, I imagine they have QUITE the haul. They might even need some movers, depending on how large the pieces are. That night, I can imagine them getting takeaway and tag-teaming arranging some pieces in the flat. They decorate things juuust enough to play around and see how things look.

Connie clears out by the time Wolf comes home, so she's not in the way of them officially enjoying their space together or making some adjustments.

The second Wolf keys in, his reaction is visible on his face. The bare walls are adorned, the cold lights are replaced with gentle, warmer ones... and it feels so much more welcoming immediately. It feels like a home with a woman's welcoming, sensual touch.

Bess definitely gets many adoring smooches, and Wolf absolutely requests a tour of everything, wanting to see every chance.

"Tell me about your day, love. I'd love for you to walk me through and show me everything you found."

To have the woman he loves not only take the time and effort to make their flat feel more personable and homey ... it tugs on his heartstrings. No person, and no woman, has shown that care and attention to him before. It inspires him to actually THINK about flat decor, and while he's not the biggest shopper, he enjoys the idea of joining her on a future trip as they continue to make the flat their own. (And yes, I imagine he is QUITE enamored by the paintings as well - though the real woman at his side remains unbeatable in remarkableness.) <3

[silvershadow1711]

I know nobody asked for this or likely cares (especially seeing as pretty much anyone on here who's read my fics would only be familiar with the BSH stuff and nothing else), but I'm in a mood, dammit! So!

Everyone who is even a little literarily inclined has works that serve as the building blocks for their "Style"©️, and so here are mine:

"Belinda" by Anne Rice

This is THE foundation for my writing. I just... would not write without this book. I found a copy from 1984 in a thrift store when I was 14 (this was back in 2004), and kept it in my purse for the next three or so years until the spine broke from me reading it so much. I still have it (the spine broke yet again, so it's in 3 parts) and I still reread it when I need a push to write. If you ever read/have ever read this book and then read any of my fics, you'll just have a moment where you think "ohhh, I see it now..."

"Animorphs" by K.A. Applegate

Animorphs was such a major aspect of my childhood. I had the entire collection at one point, and then I sold 2/3rds of it because I was a stupid child. My inspiration doesn't come from the prose of the books so much as what it symbolizes for me. Which is "it's okay to be pedantic and nitpicky about the established rules of your universe. It's okay to have your suspension of disbelief not extend to mundane aspects of a story. You can write a whole-ass story about that!" If that doesn't make sense to you because you aren't familiar with Animorphs, let me explain. It's a story that takes the trope of "group of superpowered kids have to save the world" and says "but if Reality Ensued?" They don't go to magic school where grades don't really matter- if they fail their classes, they get grounded and can't go on missions. Parents aren't just set dressing who don't care what's going on in their kids' lives; they do, and keeping their parents happy and ignorant is a major part of the story. The superpowers have hard limits and side effects, including mental ones. PTSD is very real; child soldiers end up traumatized and that interferes with interacting with the world in a neurotypical fashion. (Animorphs is basically the antithesis of a battle shonen story, and is probably why I cannot stand the latter).

"Harry Potter" by you know exactly who

Now, before anyone pulls out a pitchfork, this is not an endorsement of JK Terfling. I hate that bitch as much as anyone, but in a list of stories that inspired me as a writer, I would be remiss to not add one that was not only a major contributor to the way I think about literature, but also the story that got me into fanfiction in the first place (reading- I've never written a HP fic). Like with Animorphs, the inspiration didn't come from the prose itself: this time, it was the world. For me, and probably a lot of other people if things like Hogwarts Legacy and the Universal attraction are anything to go by, the biggest draw of Harry Potter ian't the characters or the mystery, but the world magical beings inhabit. This was the story that showed me that the world itself could be just as important, just as fascinating, as the protagonist (cue my obsession with worldbuilding).

"Speak" by Laurie Halse

Speak is one of those books I was assigned to read in my middle school Literature class. Every book on that list was a banger, but Speak is the only one I later bought my own copy of from B. Dalton. It's hard to describe if you haven't read it yourself, but what I'll say is Melinda's disjointed inner voice has become a mainstay of my writing style. In fact, it blends prefectly with...

"Triptych" by Estee

A fanfic. Because why would a fanfic writer NOT be inspired by fanfiction? Everything- quite literally everything- Estee has published over the last 12 years is amazing, but it all started with Triptych and I consider it a masterpiece that stands toe-to-toe with any of the published books I've mentioned (or will mention). I only started reading their work about three or so years ago, but the second I did, I started incorporating elements of their style in my own work.

(Those thoughts of Ray's that show up in parenthesis?)

(Like this?)

(Yeah. That's an Estee staple)

(Sometimes, I feel like a hack fraud, ripping them off like this...)

Their worldbulding is some of the most in-depth I've ever read, their ability to take something completely innocuous from canon and turn it into the moat jaw-dropping detail imaginable beggars belief. Triptych is the standard I hold all fanfiction to, including my own.

(If you wanna read their work- you should- you'll find them exclusively on fimfiction.net)

"Perfume: The Story of a Murderer" by Patrick Süsskind

So, I actually found out about this book through a song. "The Perfumer's Perfect Fume" by Steampianist, if you're curious (listen to it- it's great), and when I got around to reading it... it's the same reason I love Belinda and Triptych so much; what some would call an excess of detail. I can't see people complain about purple prose without wondering how we're the same species. Maybe it's because I have pretty severe aphantasia, but I need as much detail as possible to know what things in your story are supposed to look like. Assholes who are like, "just use your imagination"- how about I imagine a better story than what you've written? Perfume's characters are all interchangable vessels of greed and hubris who exist to be bitch slapped by karma. They're not important. What's important is how shit smells. The world is describe through smell, and god help me does that do wonders to paint a picture. I will forver remember that the perfumier Grenouille first worked in was an overwhelming hurricane of smells stacked from floor to ceiling with shit like pastilles and makeup and erectile disfunction remedies, and everything was scented. I try so hard to include scent descriptions in my own writing specifically because I want people to remember scenes and settings by their smell.

"A Song of Ice and Fire" by George R.R. Martin

So! Funny story. Back in 2016, I started posting a fanfic series that was a novelization/adaptation of all three Fire Emblem Fates games. It gained a decent little following on FFN, and one comment in particular that I remember said that the way I wrote reminded the reader a lot of "Game of Thrones". Now, I didn't have cable- I barely watched TV at all (still don't), so I had no clue what they were talking about. So I looked it up, and everyone was talking about this "Red Wedding", and one site uploaded a passage from that scene in the books. And I read it, fell in love, and instantly bought the first first 4 books off amazon (Dance was out of stock) and read all 4 of them over the next week. Take everything I love about "Belinda", "Triptych" and "Perfume" and add dragons and knights and a medieval coat of paint. For 7 odd years, every time I was hit with writer's block, I would whip out Clash of Kings and instantly be inspired.

[wells-creative]

I’m doing my very first cross stitch (despite having a boatload of kits both new and in various stages of completion from thrifted craft lots) and this shit is not for the faint hearted.

Here’s what it’s supposed to look like. Enjoy the extra artwork, my 18 month old was pleased to make it for your viewing pleasure.

My mom gave me this brand new kit for Christmas. And listen, we know mothers mean well in their gifting but sometimes they give inconvenient gifts. Like a white elephant. But the cost of upkeep is my eyeballs. My very eyeballs.

But because this particular kit was a gift from my mother and I love her dearly I am determined to finish this m’fer.

I feel like I’m a little over halfway but the line art part of it scares the hell out of me. And guys don’t get me started on the counting. So much counting. I do not thrive on tidy organization and routine. I am a creature of chaos and sporadic fits of creativity and motivation.

Ok. Enough bitching. I am really enjoying this and it is fun to really finally understand cross stitch. I felt like I understood it before. But in actuality it was just a vague knowing.

I wish there was a way it was easier on my eyes because they want to fall out just thinking about this. I do have a magnifying light but I feel like that makes it worse because it’s hard to find a comfortable position where I can keep my work at a consistent distance from my zoomer.

I bow to any cross stitch pros that do this on a regular basis. And I will keep your eyes in my prayers and thoughts.

Here’s what I have so far. There are mistakes. But I’m hoping they are buried so deep into the pixels that we will never notice them again.

And because I am a stay at home mom in a single income household I’m going to shamelessly plug an affiliate link and hope you guys will click it and buy some things on the other end. Y’all gonna buy some shit off Amazon at some point anyway 😂

So if you want the lovely pink pen my crotch goblin did her masterpiece with or anything else that catches your fancy at the jungle store click the link and go shopping 😘

Papermate Inkjoy Gel Pens (I really do love and highly recommend these in every color but the pink and purple are my faves)

And if you want to grab this little kit for yourself…. I couldn’t find it on Amazon but here’s the link to get it from Joann.