#scalloped blouse

[crrows]

Yoyogi Park, 2004

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Two

“I’m really sorry,” Steve is saying before Eddie has the door fully open, but it makes Eddie smile. It feels like Steve has started saying ‘I’m sorry,’ instead of ‘hello’ as a matter of course.

It’s Sunday afternoon though, and Eddie isn’t cooking anything and Steve isn’t holding an empty plate, so Eddie has no clue what Steve could be sorry for this time.

“Could you come and help me with something? It’ll just take two moments.”

“Sure thing,” Eddie agrees easily, slipping on his adventure crocs and following Steve down the hall.

Eddie follows Steve into and then through his apartment into the small bedroom. It’s a two bed apartment, the same as Eddie’s. Eddie uses his spare room to store his guitars. He has a desk in there too; a place to write and paint his miniatures and do guitar maintenance.

It’s a nursery. It’s cute, animal themed. The ceiling is painted powder blue, which drops down onto the walls about a foot before ending in a neatly done scalloped edge. The walls are white, but have cloud shapes printed on them in the same blue. There are random tufts of painted grass popping up from the floor; some with flowers. The rocker and the other furniture, including crib and chest of drawers, are all painted the same green, and the blinds are green jungle, with elephants and big cats and monkeys hiding amongst the leaves. A lot of the soft things are yellow and white, and Eddie has not a fucking clue as to the sex of Steve’s pup, so he asks as much.

Steve smiles, “I don’t know. I didn’t want to know. I like surprises.”

“Huh. Well. I’m always the one shaking the gifts at Christmas, but I do love a surprise too. What did you need?”

“We have the fixings for the mobile there ready, but I clean forgot about it until now, and I’m too big to stretch up there. Didn’t do it at the time because we were moving furniture and I was frightened I’d break it.”

“Okay sure,” Eddie takes the dangly parts of the mobile; cute little moons and stars and sun shapes, and fixes it to the bit already attached to the ceiling. It’s nice, and easy to figure out, but it does hang low so he gets what Steve means.

He also sees why Steve can’t reach; he seems to have suddenly gotten even bigger over the last week, and he's also only been wearing these sort of loose shift dresses, like a blouse, a button up, and a tent had a horrendous love child.

He looks gorgeous though. Eddie always thought pregnancy must be pretty fucking miserable; your body betraying you almost. Needing to pee all the time, unreasonable hormones. Cravings. Morning sickness. Odd shit happening all over the place. Eddie always figured telling pregnant people that they’re ‘glowing’ was just a nice thing people said to make them feel better during what must be a pretty shitty nine months.

Not with Steve though. Steve’s actually glowing. Not like literally glowing but...he’s beautiful, and Eddie suddenly understands what all the fuss is about.

Steve clears his throat. Right. Right okay, Eddie’s creepy staring, “so I was going to make chicken parm again tonight, since I know you like it and it’s been a bit...do you maybe want to get out the apartment and come to another, slightly different, apartment?”

Steve laughs a little, looking at where his hands cradle his bump, before looking back up, cheeks pink, “I think I’d like that.”

Eddie’s laid the table as nice as he can. He snagged a little bunch of daisy looking things out of the garden and shoved them in a mug, just because he remembered Steve’s little daffodil.

He doesn’t own place mats, but he does dig out a table cloth he usually only uses for games night; it’s black, but it’s clean.

Steve settles himself at the table and Eddie goes and gets dinner, he can’t help but notice Steve shift in his seat, wincing.

“You okay?”

Steve hums, “been getting funny back pain, but it’s all normal. Could be anything really, just the weight of the baby, or maybe they are leaning on my sciatic nerve. It’s all fine. Nearly done now.”

Steve takes the first bite of his dinner and hums appreciatively. It makes Eddie warm inside, a little tickle of his brain releasing happy chemicals. Omega is being fed. Omega is safe and happy.

Eddie tells it to fuck off.

“So you’re due soon?” Which feels like he;s stating the obvious, Steve is the size of a tiny moon.

“Tomorrow.”

Eddie makes a noise, startled, then nearly chokes on a string of spaghetti, “excuse me,” he manages to get out, before drinking half his water, Steve looking half concerned and more than a little amused from the other side of the table. “Tomorrow?” Eddie asks weakly.

Steve nods, chewing and swallowing before he answers, “the due date is tomorrow, but it’s the norm really for first pups to go over that, even more normal with male Omega, don’t worry, it’s fine. Although it should be soon, I passed the mucus plug yesterday.”

Eddie nearly chokes again, “the what?” he tries his best not to sound too horrified.

“Oh. Sorry, you probably don't want to hear about the uhm, the kind of gross stuff.”

“No, no, of course it’s fine what is...uhm...that?” And Eddie is fully prepared to regret acquiring this cursed knowledge. He doesn’t even know what it is and he’s already eyeing his spaghetti sauce dubiously. For Steve though...he will learn about the gross stuff.

“Oh, well, when you’re pregnant you get sort of this...lump of...gacky stuff and blood. You don’t have periods when you’re pregnant usually, so it kind of protects everything from infection getting in and stuff like that.”

Eddie takes a deep breath and lets it out, blowing up his bangs, and makes himself eat his dinner normally, “fair enough, but that means you’re...kinda’ close?”

“Well, kinda’. Robin’s spending this morning with her girlfriend and then this afternoon sorting her place out. She’ll be over later, she’s moving in until the pups a week old or so, just make sure I’m okay.”

“She’s...a really good friend, right?” It warms Eddie to know Steve has someone like that in his life.

“Yeah...she’s been there with me through everything. Every appointment, all the classes, everything. Even when I decided I wanted to do this it was...it was right after yet another crappy breakup, you know. She could have said all the sensible things about maybe it's not the right time yet, or that I should...think about it. You know, all that things that would have been totally reasonable for her to say but I'd just...I’d just had enough of waiting and she said she’d support me whatever, and that was that. She’s the best.”

Steve shifts again, putting down his cutlery to try and stretch his back out, hissing with pain, “you sure you’re okay?” Eddie asks, concerned.

“Yeah, fine I think,” Steve bends forward then, gripping the edge of the table and breathing out harshly through his nose, “oh that felt weird.”

Eddie’s up and coming around the table before he can stop himself, hovering his hands, not sure if it’s okay to touch, “Steve?”

“I...oh. Oh gosh I’m so sorry Eddie,” Steve stands cautiously revealing a very clear wet patch on the seat.

“I...that’s fine,” Eddie squeaks out, “are you...is this. Is that…?”

“Yeah, pretty sure my water just broke. And I really wanted that chicken parm,” Steve sighs.

“I can make it again,” Eddie says reflexively, “kind of feel like there’s bigger things to think about what should- like can I help? What do we do?”

Eddie finds himself, very strangely, not panicking. Like, well, maybe a little, but not an uncontrollable amount. Which now he’s here that’s a really nice surprise.

“I’ll just call Robbie, and then will you walk me home?”

And Eddie had maybe had inappropriate thoughts about walking Steve home so he could steal a kiss, not whatever this is. But. Still. “Of course.”

Steve smiles at him with his phone next to his ear, “it’s go time Birdie. Oh, what was I supposed to say? Code red? The eagle is...leaving? I can’t remember, you couldn’t make your mind up about the-” Steve hisses, bending to lean on the table, “yep, yep, see you soon.”

Steve hangs up, telling Eddie she’s on her way as they walk down the hall, dinner abandoned on the table. Steve chooses to stand, walking little laps back and forth along the back of the couch, “is there anything I can do?”

“My bag and car seat are in the nursery, if you don’t mind grabbing those?” Eddie does, putting Steve’s things right by the door, “oh, and a towel, from the bathroom? I don’t want to make a mess in Rob’s car.”

“Sure thing,” Eddie grabs a bath towel from there, and puts it on top, just as Steve’s phone starts ringing.

Eddie can practically feel it when Steve tenses up, his scent turning bitter with distress. Despite what’s going on, Steve’s scent hadn’t changed at all until now, “your car won’t start?”

He sounds terrified.

“I. Yeah. Okay. I can wait I’ll- okay.”

“Okay?” Steve shakes his head, eyes suddenly wet, he looks like he’s biting back tears and Eddie can’t stop himself from going to him.

“She’s got to wait for Chrissy to get to her place and pick her up, then they’ll come over,” Eddie has to make this better. He has to.

“Okay, how about this, me and you go now, I’ll take you, and they can meet you there? That’ll make it faster right?”

“I mean, I’m not...I mean labor can take hours and hours, I’m being silly I just- Eddie I’m a bit scared. She was supposed to be here, it’s a bit too soon.”

They end up holding hands, which Eddie’s kind of thrilled about even if Steve is squeezing the life out of him, “would you feel better if you were waiting at the hospital?”

Steve bites his lip, clearly torn, “are you sure you don’t mind?”

“I’ll get my keys.”

Part Four

[strawberryteabunny]

same lace, different items 🌸 Innocent World

Ribbon Doll Blouse (2008)

Rose Scallop Frill JSK (2008)

Antique Pansy Handkerchief (2010)

[storiesofsvu]

Decadent Desires Ch 4

Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: language, alcohol, sexually charged conversations and situations, minor kinks slightly explored. Happy (early) Birthday @d33pd3sire-blog !! I hope you have a wonderful day!🩵🩵 (thank you for the kofi)

Emily was blessed with gorgeous weather when she woke up the following Friday, the sun cascading though the sky, flooding the city with the perfect warmth that would last through until the evening. She was pleasantly surprised that she was feeling considerably less nervous about tonight than she had been about your original meeting. Not that she had any better idea what she was doing or about to get herself into, but that she knew you were going to be a much better match. On top of finding you physically attractive she also enjoyed spending the evening with you, the conversation had flowed smoothly, you were smart, quick witted and there was an underlying hint of sexuality that you’d kept just beneath the first layer, ready to reveal once the discussion had finally shifted in that direction. And that was one she was more than eager to explore.

She made sure to arrive at the Conrad with more than enough time to spare, checking in and dropping off whatever she didn’t need in the suite before heading back down to the Summit. The rooftop lounge had an extensive cocktail menu, delectable food offerings and incredible views of downtown D.C. and The Capitol. She grabbed a table and ordered a glass of wine while she waited, looking through all the options on their menu.

The sound of your infectious laugh was what pulled her attention upwards a few minutes later, looking up to find you chatting with the hostess, gesturing in the direction of her table. You had a simple yet gorgeous plum cocktail dress on, the top dipping down to show more cleavage than the last time she’d seen you, the bodice nicely fitted while the skirt flared out. Your hair was loose, curled nicely and your makeup darker, more seductive as you gave her a little wave with a grin before walking over to the table.

“Hope I wasn’t keeping you.” You smiled.

“No, not at all.” She stood from the table, giving you the opportunity to take in her full outfit, form fitting dress pants and a gorgeous red blouse that showed off the curve of her chest perfectly. Her hand landed on your elbow as the two of you leant in, kissing cheeks before you slid into the other chair.

“How was the week?” You asked, picking up the cocktail menu to look through.

“Surprisingly good.” Emily replied, nearly confusing herself at the realization, “got a few of our snags figured out and the pile of papers in my inbox is finally smaller than the outbox.”

“Sounds like you need an assistant.” You teased from across the table, and she huffed a laugh.

“Unfortunately, I don’t think the bureau would like it too much if my signature was forged on everything.”

“Well at least you managed to catch a break.” You offered and she nodded.

By the time the server came by the two of you had managed to shake off any early jitters, slipping into an easy rhythm of conversation. You got a glass of sangria and Emily ordered the cheese and charcuterie plates, tempura shrimp, and scallops to share.

“So, I know you’ve been all over,” you started, taking a sip of your drink, “why choose D.C. to settle?”

“It’s a long story.” She chuckled, “but there were people I wanted to be close to, a few things to keep an eye on here. Just so happened to be close to Quantico.”

“Were you always interested in some form of law enforcement?”

“It was more about helping people, learning how to fully understand the whole psychology of it, why they do what they do. I was always interested in more than just chasing down the bad guys.”

“I’m curious then… why return to the BAU from Interpol?” You asked and Emily’s head titled.

“You know about Interpol?”

“You’re not the only one who knows how to run a background check.” You chuckled, “you may be the fed, but I still like to vet who I spend my personal time with, especially behind closed doors.”

“You’re smart.” She smiled, “I like that.”

“So?” You raised a brow, “what made Washington so much more appealing than London?”

“I missed it. That team had been my family for years and I wanted to come back to them. I knew there was a potential offer hiding in the wings that wouldn’t demote me in a sense and I wanted to help out an old friend. He only trusted me with the job, and I didn’t want the team to fall into jurisdiction of someone who wouldn’t do it justice or only wanted to disband them.”

“How’d you like Unit Chief compared to now?”

“Honestly I think I prefer it.” She laughed, “though I wouldn’t dream of stepping back down into it for the same reasons I took it in the first place.”

“Last thing you want is Bailey directly in charge of your team.” You grinned and she rolled her eyes.

“He’s got his claws deep enough in already.” She groaned.

“Too many politics involved with Section Chief I assume?” You raised a brow and she nodded, a look of near melancholy in her eyes as she switched her gaze to look out on the horizon. “You miss being out in the field, don’t you?”

“Paperwork is menial. And tedious. And so much of it seems entirely fucking pointless. When we were all mainly working from home still, it at least kept me occupied, tied to the job, like I still had a purpose. But now we’re back in the office, my team gets to run off into the face of danger and I’m stuck with the pencil pushers attending meetings that are entirely redundant. The only time I end up opening my mouth is to remind them the BAU is an integral part of the bureau, and they shouldn’t shut it down.”

“Sounds like it’s definitely about time you have yourself some fun.” You rested your chin on the back of your hand, a smirk on your lips and Emily chuckled. When she looked up at you, you could see her eyes darkening just the slightest.

“I suppose it is.”

You were interrupted before things could move further, plates of food now scattered across the table that you were both picking through, loading up your own side plates to get a little bit of everything.

“You mentioned UCONN last time.” Emily started, taking a sip of her refilled wine, “are you from Connecticut or did you just go to school there?”

“Born and raised, figured I may as well take advantage of a rent free college experience while I could.”

“Did you know Heather back then or was it just sheer coincidence?”

“Our parents ran in the same circles.” You replied with a huff, taking a bite of food and you noticed the very brief change of expression on Emily’s face before she managed to conceal it and you laughed. “Before you ask, no I’m not drowning in wealth. The Dunbar’s come from very old money and they’ve always been smart about it, they know how to invest, how to make money into even more money. I’ve never been able to understand it.”

“I assume your parents didn’t either?” She asked and you practically snorted.

“Not in the least. They liked to pretend they knew wealth, shove their way into all the fancy places and while the façade was enough to win over most people, it all came from an inheritance my mother got. Could have been worth something if my father wasn’t blowing it all away on fast cars while mother spent all of her days at the casino chain smoking, binge drinking and consistently losing.” You sighed, taking a large sip of wine, “I’m lucky there was enough left for my college education.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” You shrugged, “the discrepancies between our bank accounts doesn’t mean the Dunbar’s were better parents or anything.”

“Oh, I’ve heard.” Emily chuckled.

“What about you? Good relationship with your parents?”

“It’s… complicated.”

“So, no?” You laughed, pulling one from her.

“Mother travels a lot for work, she isn’t based here. We tried to kinda work through things when I was younger but between our careers it just never happened, and I’m fine with that. Spares me the lecture about still not being married or giving her grand kids.”

You let out a louder laugh, “why does it seem that that’s any mom’s only concern with their kid’s lives? There’s more than one way to succeed and be happy and in my opinion that’s all that really matters.”

“Exactly.” Emily smiled across at you, “there’s so much more to be concerned about.”

“Mmm!” You suddenly changed gears as you took your first bite of a scallop, “these are incredible.”

“You haven’t had them?” She raised a brow, “I assumed you’ve been here before.”

“Yeah, Conrad’s a pretty high choice of stay for any visiting politician but I’ve only ever had time for drinks. Try them.” You urged, breaking off another piece on your fork and holding it up to her, your other hand cupped underneath it so it wouldn’t drip on the table. She barely hesitated, lips wrapping around the fork as you gently pulled it out of her mouth, not even blinking before scooping up the last bite into your own mouth on the same utensil.

“Oh my god.” She mumbled over the food, “you weren’t kidding.”

“You’ll learn to trust my suggestions sooner or later, I’m sure of it.” You grinned at her across the table.

“I have no doubt, you wouldn’t guide me astray, now would you?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” You smirked across the table at her, and Emily felt a tingle shoot through her body.

A few minutes later the server came by to clear the dinner plates and offer a dessert menu that you turned down, feigning to the server that you’d had enough, and Emily asked for the cheque.

“Not a sweets fan?” She asked, polishing off her wine and you chuckled over the rim of your glass.

“I prefer to get my sugar a different way.”

“So you are interested in moving this upstairs?”

“Well, I sure hope so. I was bargaining on more than just dinner tonight.” Your lips turned upwards in a sly smile that Emily returned, slipping her credit card back into her wallet.

She guided you up to the ninth floor, letting you into the suite first. A small entry way opened up on the left into a large studio space, a breakfast bar splitting up the counter where the microwave and fridge were and the sitting area. A circular table with two chairs, a small sectional that faced the television and a thin divider that hid the bedroom space, the bathroom connected to that.

“Help yourself.” Emily gestured toward the bottle of wine on the breakfast bar, and you wasted no time in pulling down two glasses from a cupboard to fill up. Sliding one across the counter to her you settled in on a stool, unsurprised when she returned with a file folder in hand. “To be completely honest, I’m not even really sure how to do this part.” She let out a slightly awkward laugh and you hummed.

“Don’t overcomplicate it. Think of it as a business transaction with a little bit of negotiation.”

“I guess that’s actually a good place to start.” She took a sip of wine, “I think the first step should be letting you know that this is exactly that, a business transaction. It’s casual, and I don’t want you to think of it as an exclusive relationship. I’m busy, we’re both busy, if you happen to see someone else that’s more than okay as long as everything is done safely.”

“Understood.” You slipped a sheet of paper from your purse, sliding it across to her before resting your chin on the back of your hand. “I figured you’d want a clean bill of health.”

“Thank you.” She tucked it into the back of the folder, “I guess money would be the next step?”

“I’ll save you the headache.” You snagged the agreement from her, eyes scanning the page until you found the blank lines to be filled in about allowance and picked up a pen. “I’m also giving you one hell of a deal, considering I don’t need to do this for money my rates are extremely low.”

“Noted.” She laughed.

“Considering our schedules I’m going to veto the allowance and say we just do a price per date, there’s likely weeks we’re not going to see each other, and I want things to be fair. One hundred for casual dinner and drinks or something of the equal amount of time that’s simply companionship.” You began to scraw notes out on the agreement, “two hundred for a date night and sex. Three for anything longer than a standard date and if you drag me to any of those horrendous FBI galas, I’m tacking on another hundred.”

She barked out a laugh, “more than understandable.”

“I expect you to pick up the tabs most nights, but if there ever is a day that I plan or invite you out onto, don’t feel obligated. Then treats and gifts are obviously welcomed and encouraged but that is up to your discretion, think of them as rewards.”

“And you’re sure about those rates?”

“Considering the costs hotel rooms like this will run you? Absolutely.” You laughed softly.

“Do you have preferences when it comes to gifts?” She asked and you scrunched your nose.

“Not particularly? Gift cards and cash obviously work, I could use a few new pairs of shoes, a dress or two, jewelry’s always nice, standard date type gifts. Could definitely use some new lingerie sets, and I mean…” you glanced over to her, that sly smile back on your cheeks, “new toys are always fun.”

“I do not disagree with you there.” She grinned back, “so let’s talk sex.”

“I am curious, is this about you needing to get off, relieve some of that stress and relax for once, or will you be the one fucking me into next week.”

“Christ.” Emily muttered, the tingling in her body moving lower, surveying you with a gleam in her eye. “I was thinking a mutual benefit but to be blunt I’m the one wearing the strap more often than not and I have no qualms with fucking you into next month.”

It was your turn to feel the fire prickling under your skin, heading south as you tried not to shift too obviously in your chair, “a confident woman with a cock? I love it.”

“You won’t be disappointed.” She assured you and you huffed a small laugh.

“I’m sure I won’t.” You took another sip of wine, “so let’s talk kinks. I’ll tell you right now the hard off the table ones are piss play, scat play, major pet play, age play, I’m not really into anything involving food in the bedroom and please nothing involving feet.”

“You can count yourself safe from all of that.” Emily laughed, pulling a warm smile from you, “I personally don’t like being restrained or blindfolded, but I have no issues tying you up.”

“As long as you’re not using work issued cuffs.” You noted.

“Do I dare ask?” She raised a brow in your direction.

“I dated a local cop in college, those things hurt.”

“Oh, I know.” She laughed back, “I’m partial to silk ties, it’s nice to keep things pretty.”

“Agreed.” You smiled at her before glancing back down at the agreement, flipping through the pages and she watched as your brow furrowed.

“What?”

“There’s nothing in here about how to address you.” You looked back up at her.

“I thought we went over that last week.” She laughed, “just Emily is fine.”

“No ma’am?” You asked and she was very quick to shut you down.

“God, please no.”

“Most women like the title mistress, or mommy.”

“Oh…” Emily’s nose scrunched, “I guess I hadn’t thought about that….”

“I mean some do go with daddy if you’re more inclined.”

“Is that like, an all the time thing? Or just in the bedroom?”

“Could be either. I’ve heard of relationships where it’s constant and I do find that over the top but every once in a while in bed, it’s kinda hot. I mean after all, one really just wants to be a good girl for mommy.”

Emily paused, letting your words sink in for a moment as she tried to figure out how she felt about the whole thing, especially considering she was about to be your sugar mommy.  “Let’s… bookmark it for later.” She looked up at you, catching a small nod but it was the wicked smirk on your face that caught her attention first, “what?”

“Nothing.” You shook your head, “I’m just not that surprised you might be intrigued. I heard you had quite the fun time entertaining Benjamin Reeves last month.”

“Oh god…” Muttering, she dropped her head, running her hand over her face and you let out a playful laugh.

“Walls really do talk.” You teased, flipping through the rest of the file, “speaking of…there’s no NDA in here?”

“I didn’t think it was necessary.” She shrugged, “there’s a piece near the end saying anything involving my work that comes up in conversation isn’t to be publicly aired anywhere but that’s all I really need.”

“Well,” finding the piece you scrawled your signature under it, “you don’t have to worry about me running to the press. Your secrets are safe with me.” You flipped the papers back in order and closed the file, sliding it back across the counter to Emily before scooping up your wine glass to walk around the counter. “Now… I do believe we’re done with the boring part…”

You approached her where she sat on the stool, your wine glass coming to rest on the counter only an inch from her own as her body turned toward you. Her hand found your waist, nudging you closer to her so you could slot yourself between her legs while she leant forward, her free hand brushing your hair back from your face. You could feel her breath hot on your skin, lips parting ever so slightly as you leant in, eyes flicking from her own down to her mouth, the distance about to be closed when there was a sudden, very loud, and repetitive buzzing on the counter.

Emily groaned, her eyes falling shut as her head fell back and you let out an annoyed huff.

“I swear to god if that’s fucking Heather I’m resigning.” You reached towards your phone at the same moment she did.

“Nope, it’s me.” She opened the screen, groaning again as she read the text messages, “and I have got to go.”

“Political crap or serial killer?”

“Serial killer.” She stood from the stool, her hand squeezing your wrist while she leaned, kissing your cheek quickly.

“Go save the world.” You raised your wine glass in a salute to her as she grabbed her bag from the couch.

“Please, finish the wine, feel free to stay.”

“I’ll take the bottle home.” You replied.

“I’m sorry.”

“No need.” You assured her with a soft smile, “next time.”

“Oh. Guaranteed.” She nodded, “get home safe. I’ll text you when we’re back.”

“I look forward to it.”

With another apologetic smile she was gone from the suite, leaving you to dump the remnants of her wine glass into yours, wandering up to the window to take in the city views as you finished it.

_______________

@mickey-gomez @momlifebehard @daddy-heather-dunbar @maybe-a-humanbean @rustyzebra @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @supercriminalbean @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @scorpsik @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @regalmilfs4me @ara-a-bird @five-bi-five-mind @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @hotchs-bitch @ollysmulti @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @hopedoesntknow @venromanova @waitaminuteashh @noahrex @imlike-so-gaydude @wittygutsy @cx-emerald-cx @momily @nilaues @borinxnovak @soverign @v3nusxsky @blackbird-brewster @mccdreamys-writes @l4yne @obsessedwjill @supercorpstan97 @asolitaryrose3 @honeyycatt @trauma-factory @lisqueen @mrs-prentiss @whitewinewithice

[sainte-melasse]

Blouse : Baby the Stars Shine Bright Dress : Scallop JSK by Angelic Pretty Headdress : @sleepgarden ♡ Socks : Baby the Stars Shine Bright Shoes : MollyPolly on Taobao Parasol : Angelic Pretty

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

In Bloom 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, allusions to trauma, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: After wasting much of your youth in a toxic situation, things are starting to look up. That’s until you meet a certain flower seller.

Characters: Cole Turner, short!reader

Note: It’s suiting that it's hump day cause I feel like cole is into that.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You slice into a cucumber, moving the knife carefully. As you focus on the task, you notice Aunt Bev’s glances. Are they intentional or is she concerned? You keep the blade steady and slow, sure not to catch your fingertips. 

“Hon, did you want to borrow one of my skirts for dinner?” She offers. 

You look down at yourself. You think the jeans and tee are just fine but now you’re doubting yourself. You blink at her and shrug. 

“Should I?” 

“It’s up to you, of course. Just whatever you’re comfortable in. I just have this nice blue flowery one and it suits you better.” 

“Well, I...” you put the knife down and gather up the cucumber in your hands, dumping it onto the bowl of lettuce, “I could try it on.” 

You grab the dish rag and wipe your hands. You just want to make her happy. You never had someone like Aunt Bev, someone who is happy over the smallest things. She makes everything you do seem like some great achievement. 

“Oh, come on, it’ll be nice,” she insists and gestures you down the hall, “in here.” 

You follow her upstairs to the bedroom she shares with your uncle. She rolls open her closet as she hums. She pulls out a wrap skirt; blue petals on white. 

“You’ll need a shirt to go with it,” she insists, “one sec.” 

She hands you the skirt and turns to sift through a dresser draw. She pulls out a plain chiffon blouse with a little scallop at the bottom. “It will go nicely.” 

“Thanks, uh, but what... what if I spill?” 

“That’s okay, honey,” she holds out the shirt, “you can keep them. They’ll look much better on you.” 

“Oh, uh,” you look down then up again. 

“You just get changed,” she sweeps past you, “I’ll be downstairs.” 

You can’t deny her. The door closes before you can even think of changing your mind. It would be rude to say no anyway. They’re such nice clothes. You look down at what you’re wearing and crumple inside. You made the wrong choice again. You should’ve known to dress up for company. 

You change as quickly as you can. You carry your clothes back downstairs and into the small room you’ve been allotted. It was once Aunt Bev’s craft room. You feel bad about that too. 

You return to the kitchen. She’s not there. You rinse some cherry tomatoes and quarter them on the wooden cutting board. As you do, you hear voices. 

Aunt Bev strolls in as Cole follows her. You don’t turn to see. You’re too shy. You hope he doesn’t even notice you. 

“Oh, honey, you look lovely,” she chimes as she nears the counter and sets down a round pan, “isn’t it wonderful, Cole brought dessert.” 

“Ma sent a pie,” he explains, “do you like rhubarb?” 

You want for Aunt Bev to answer. She doesn’t. You look up and over and realise they’re watching you. Oh. 

“Uh, I never had it.” 

“Never had rhubarb?” Cole blusters, “well good news, my ma makes the best strawberry rhubarb crumble.” 

“Um, oh, thanks,” you try to smile but your lips just strain tightly over your teeth. You turn back to the counter and add the tomatoes to the bowl. 

“Salad looks yummy. Very colourful,” he comes closer. He’s so tall you can’t help but shrink down. “Bev’s right, that’s a really nice skirt. Suits you.” 

“Thanks,” you cheep. 

“Can I help with anything?” He offers. 

You look around him at Aunt Bev. She smiles and gestures as if to say, ‘go on’. You turn back to the cutting board and lay the knife down. 

“I’m almost done,” you say, “no thank you.” 

“Well, when you’re done, honey, why don’t you show him the garden?” Bev suggests, “she has really livened it up, you know? She spends hours out there.” 

“I’m sure. I’m excited to see it,” Cole agrees as he lingers close by, “nice house. Cozy.” 

“Ah, you know, we try to make it home,” your aunt preens. “I didn’t even say how nice you look. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a tie.” 

“Shucks,” he waves her off as he leans on the counter right next to your work space. 

You go to the fridge to get the container of feta and come back to sprinkle it over the salad. 

“Smells delicious too. Did you cook all this?” Cole asks as he looks down at you. 

“No,” you shake your head, “just the salad.” 

“She’s a good helper,” Bev beams and nears, taking the bowl from in front of you, “I’ll just go set this out on the patio table, why don’t you two go check out the garden?” 

“I’d love to,” Cole stands straight, “ladies.” 

He waves ahead of him and you hesitate. You pause to put the feta away then follow Bev towards the sliding doors. She goes out onto the deck and plants the large bowl on the wooden table. She stays there as you drag your feet past. You do your best to keep moving as you feel Cole getting too close. 

You go down the steps, nearly stumbling at the bottom. You cross your arms as you approach the garden where daffodils stand tally among the pansies. He puts his hands on his hips as he steps up. His blue eyes rove over the foliage as he peruses it thoughtfully. 

You peek over at him. He wears pale khakis and a grey button up rolled to his elbows, a trim of teal along the buttons. He wears a tie in a darker shade of grey as his hair is even fluffier than the last time you saw him. You shy away before he can catch you. 

“Wow, it’s so nice, and the placement is wonderful. Great for crossbreeding,” he points around. “You know a lot about plants?” 

“I read,” you say. “Library books. Aunt Bev brings them home.” 

“I love the library,” he chirps. 

“Oh, I don’t... I haven’t gone.” 

“Yet,” he insists, “one day, I’m sure.” 

You nod and fold your arms. You sway and search the grass. He kneels by the edge of the garden and touches a leaf. 

“What happened to your daylilies?” He asks. 

You bounce on your toes, “put them in my room.” 

“Really? You must have petals all over,” he chuckles as he continues to rustle the plants, feeling each one. “Do you have a favourite?” 

“I don’t know, they’re all pretty.” 

You nibble your lip. He talks a lot. He makes you talk a lot. You sniff and squeeze your arms. 

“Don’t get lost out there,” Aunt Bev startles you as she calls from the deck, “I’m about to bring the rest of the food out.” 

“Ah, thanks, Beverly,” Cole waves at her and smiles, turning to look at you, “shall we?” 

“Okay,” you don’t move. He doesn’t either. 

“You go first,” he says. 

You do as he says and he follows. The skirt flutters around your legs, swirling in a way that tickles the back of your knees. You’re not used to it. You never really wore one before.  

As you come up on the deck, he trails you toward the table. He sidles past you and pulls out a chair before you can do it yourself. He opens his hand to the seat, “please.” 

“Uh, thanks, you don’t have to...” 

“My ma always taught me manners,” he assures. 

You sit and he slides the chair toward the table, trapping you in it. He claims the one next to you, his elbow almost on the armrest of yours. You make yourself small. You’re really good at that. You miss when you could be invisible. 

Bev appears again, a long pare of tongs in her hand. She approaches the roiling BBQ and opens it up. As she turns the drumsticks, she smiles over at the table. 

“Don’t you two look ready to eat,” she trills. “I just told the others to come out and get a plate. Just gotta get this chicken and the potatoes.” 

She uses the tongs to transfer the drumsticks to a large serving plate. Cole clears his throat and gets up. He goes to take it from her and brings it to the table. 

“You are just the biggest, sweetheart,” she grins, “your mother must be so proud. Such a lucky lady.” 

“I do what I can,” he says, “don’t want you to burn yourself.” 

“Oh, don’t you worry about me. You do too much of that,” she removes the wrapped potatoes from the grill next, “I can’t thank you enough for helping us last weekend.” 

“Really, it’s fine. It was a very busy weekend,” he meets her again to take the next tray, “I can tell a lost soul when I see one. I figured it was best to get her out of the tide before it swallowed her up. Sometimes I even get overwhelmed.” 

“It really was so amazing,” she insists, “we got more than enough. You make sure you take leftovers for your mother. She sent that lovely pie.” 

“Sure,” he agrees easily as he sets down the potatoes. He sits down once more, further crowding you. Is he that big or that oblivious. “She’s a nice girl,” he peers over at you and you look at the table, “I couldn’t just let her get lost.” He turns slightly in his chair, towards you, “I hope it didn’t scare you away. I have some new stuff I’m bringing next week; thought maybe you’d like to see.” 

“Oh, you know that would be so lovely, honey.” 

“If that’s too much,” Cole leans his elbow on the arm rest and extends his fingers as he speaks, “she could come up and see them at the farm. Right in their natural habitat.” 

“The farm?” Bev exclaims, “how exciting.” 

“Of course, you’re all welcome to come up and see. My ma loves having a full house but my sister never comes around anymore and it was only ever the two of us. She always wanted more but, ah, you know?” 

“That’s too bad,” Bev says, “but that would be so wonderful. Honey, wouldn’t you like to go see all his flowers?” 

“I could use some help potting too, if you have a set of hands to spare,” he suggests. “Not that I’m looking for free labour, I just... figured.” 

“We’d love to help out, wouldn’t we, honey?” 

That’s it. She’s given the answer for you. You can’t disagree with her or you’d be mean. You’re not a mean person. Not like she always said you were. 

“Sure,” you murmur. 

“We’ll make a day of it,” she sings, “just let me know when.” 

“Will do,” Cole says brightly. “Sorry, I’m a dweeb about these things. I don’t really meet a lot of people who like flowers as much as me.” 

“We can all use friends,” Bev goes to the sliding door and pushes it open, “right, hon?” You nod, choked of your voice and she sighs as she pokes her head inside, “where is everyone?” 

🌷

You help clear the table after dinner. You sit down as Cole gets up and you’re relieved to be on your own. The others sit on the other side of the table; Uncle Morris along with your cousins, Mason and Lena. The latter two are on their phones and Uncle Morris chews on toothpick. 

You’re content enough to watch the clouds in the sky. Aunt Bev is so good at keeping things lively but you never know what to say. You don’t really feel safe around anyone but her. She’s the one who found you, who helped you. 

You look down at your hands and the faded welts. There’s more up your forearms and on your legs. They are almost indiscernible, though a few are stark enough to be picked out. You rub your hands together, as if you might wipe them away. Some memories are wrought as much into your skin as your mind. 

The sliding door opens and your Uncle Morris sits up and pats his stomach, “ah, about time. Dessert! The best part of dinner.” 

Bev and Cole dole out the saucers. Yours is placed before you as he sits next to you again. You take your fork and spin it nervously. Morris is quick to dig in as your aunt asks Mason and Lena about school. Their conversation edges you out, but you’re used to that. You prefer it. You never have much to add. 

“You gonna try it?” Cole keeps his voice low as he pokes at his crumble. 

“Oh, uh, sure,” you scoop up some of the reddish pink goop and oats. 

“You have to tell me the truth, if you like the rhubarb. I gotta report back to ma.” 

You nod and take a bite. You don’t like how he watches. It makes you self-conscious. His eyes linger on your hand as you slid the fork from your mouth and chew the tart dessert. Your cheeks pinch and you swallow tightly. You like it. 

“Well?” He nudges you and you wince. “Oh, sorry, are you okay? Was that too hard?” 

“No, I... I liked it,” you put the fork down and try to hide your arms. They’re oversensitive. Most of you is; just brushing against furniture can make you whimper. “Thank you.” 

“Told you, ma makes the best,” he proclaims, but a vee of worry remains between his brows, “you sure I didn’t hurt you?” 

“Yes, I’m sure,” you insist. You have to act normal. 

You grab your fork and take another bite. He continues to watch you, moving the crumble around as he does. You wish he'd stop looking so much. 

“Oh, wow, did that hurt?” He points to the back of your hand. That one scar that stands out. 

“No,” you lie. 

“What happened?” 

You shake your head, “nothing.” 

“Doesn’t look like nothing.” 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you hiss and drop your fork. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” 

“I’m not upset,” your eyes well and you flick your lashes. Your hand throbs. You hear the snap of the switch, you feel it against your tendons. You want to scream but you can’t. “I’m fine, I’m fine...” 

“I...” Cole babbles and looks around. The table is silent as you gulp for air. 

“Oh, hon,” Aunt Bev gets up and comes around to your chair, “have some water, alright?” 

“I didn’t... I don’t know what I did,” Cole stutters. 

“It’s not you, sweetie,” Bev pets your hair as she offers the glass of water. “She’s okay. She was out in the sun today, she gets a bit faint.” 

You want to cry even more. Not just for the embarrassment. Because you’re grateful. Because she lies so easily for you. She protects you like no one else ever has. 

“Can I go inside?” You whisper. 

“Sure, hon, I’ll put your dessert aside for you,” she smiles.  

[chic-a-gigot]

La Mode nationale, no. 19, 15 mai 1897, Paris. No. 16. — Toilettes pour jeunes femmes et jeunes filles. Bibliothèque nationale de France

(1) Toilette de promenade en lainage souple vert prairie. Corsage court et montant, orné devant par de larges bandes garnies de petits velours. Boutons sur le côté, petit volant de chaque côté des bandes, col montant, ruche autour du cou; manches Empire, jupe plissée à petits plats tout autour. Chapeau-toque en paille verte, orné au-dessus par trois grosses roses du milieu desquelles s'échappe une haute aigrette en coques de ruban.

(1) Walking ensemble in soft meadow green wool. Short, high bodice, decorated in front with wide bands trimmed with small velvets. Buttons on the side, small ruffle on each side of the bands, high collar, ruffle around the neck; Empire sleeves, pleated skirt with small plates all around. Green straw toque hat, decorated above with three large roses from the middle of which escapes a tall egret made of ribbon shells.

Métrage: 10 mètres lainage souple très grande largeur.

—

(2) Toilette d'intérieur en lainage paille. Corsage-veste à petites basques, retenu sur la poitrine par des pattes boutonnées sur chemisette plissée en surah vert amande, gros nœud en mousseline de soie à l'encolure, manches plates renflées dans le haut. Jupe ronde ornée dans sa largeur par des petits velours.

(2) Indoor ensemble in straw wool. Bodice-jacket with small peplums, held on the chest by buttoned tabs on a pleated shirt in almond green surah, large silk chiffon bow at the neckline, flat sleeves bulging at the top. Round skirt decorated across its width with small velvets.

Métrage: 8 mètres lainage très grande largeur.

—

(3) Toilette de promenade en lainage beige. Corsage plat quadrille sur la poitrine par des galons de laine bleue, col montant, ruche au-dessus, manches plates renflées du haut, jupe tout unie et ronde. Chapeau canotier en paille beige, garni tout autour par des petits nœuds de ruban bleu, et pouf de plumes en aigrette.

(3) Walking ensemble in beige wool. Flat bodice quadrille on the chest with blue wool braids, high collar, ruffle above, flat sleeves bulging at the top, plain and round skirt. Beige straw boater hat, trimmed all around with small blue ribbon bows, and egret feather pouf.

Métrage: 7 mètres lainage très grande largeur.

—

(4) Toilette d'intérieur (jeune femme), en lainage rouge égyptien. Corsage-blouse, festonné sur le côté, recouvert du haut par un collet à col rabattu, coupé; cravate en surah noir sous col ne lingerie rabattu. Manches plates, ceinture de cuir blanc, jupe ouverte devant sur tablier semblable.

(4) House dress (young woman), in Egyptian red wool. Blouse-bodice, scalloped on the side, covered at the top by a collar with a turn-down collar, cut; black surah tie under folded lingerie collar. Flat sleeves, white leather belt, open skirt in front on similar apron.

Métrage: 9 mètres lainage très grande largeur.

—

(5) Toilette de réception pour jeune femme en mousseline de soie noire. Corsage plat sous empiècement semblable orné de petits velours, bretelles sur les épaules; chemisette plissée en mousseline de soie rose, col montant avec ruche au-dessus, jockeys de mousseline sur manches plates, ceinture de ruban attachée par une boucle, jupe ronde plissée soleil.

(5) Reception ensemble for young women in black silk chiffon. Flat bodice under similar yoke decorated with small velvets, straps on the shoulders; Pleated pink silk chiffon shirt, high collar with ruffle above, muslin jockeys on flat sleeves, ribbon belt attached with a buckle, round sun pleated skirt.

Métrage: 10 mètres mousseline de soie noire.

—

(6) Toilette de jeune fille en drap gris très clair. Corsage-veste devant, boléro dans le dos avec revers encadrant une chemisette surah bleu broché vert, plissée en travers, col montant et ruche au-dessus, manches renflées dans le haut, ceinture suissesse en surah vert, jupe ronde tout unie. Chapeau canotier en paille verte, orné au-dessus par des grandes coques de ruban bleu, avec oiseau couché et ailes déployées sur le devant.

(6) Young girl's ensemble in very light gray cloth. Bodice-jacket in front, bolero in the back with lapel framing a blue surah shirt with green brocade, pleated across, high collar and ruffle above, bulging sleeves at the top, Swiss belt in green surah, plain round skirt. Green straw boater hat, decorated above with large shells of blue ribbon, with lying bird and outstretched wings on the front.

Métrage: 7 mètres drap gris clair.

[anonymouspuzzler]

silly little doodle page i've been chipping away at the past few months! what if Habits in an Outfits...

Original reference links for: Emoticon T-Shirt | Sheer Daisy Shirt | Fluffy Coat | Lily Sweater | Foopball Sweatshirt | Coat & Beret Outfit | Hairy Jewish Guy Hooters

[Full image description under cut!]

Image ID: A full page, black-and-white, digital ink drawing of Boris Habit from the game Smile For Me, wearing various outfits. There is an off-white paper texture in the background. Going roughly clockwise from the top left corner, the drawings are as follows:

A full-body drawing with an outfit consisting of a knee-length dress with a pointed collar and pleated skirt, a loose striped tie, a long open coat with a pointed collar and trim along the collar and inner edges, knee-length socks, Mary Jane style shoes, and a beret with a pom-pom. Habit's hair is tied up in a loose bun, with his bangs loose. He is smiling and looking off to the side, posing with one arm to the side and the other holding up a lily, one leg crossed over the other as if mid-twirl.

A half-body drawing (from roughly hips up) with an outfit consisting of dark pants, a turtleneck sweater with a large lily flower and stem embroidered on the front, and a kitted hat with a large pom-pom. Habit's hair is loose under the hat and he is standing with his hands in his pockets, looking off to the side with a casual expression.

A half-body drawing (from roughly hips up) with an outfit consisting of dark pants and a sheer, long-sleeved blouse with a frilly collar and cuffs, and embroidered daisies patterned all over. Habit's hair is down and has a flower tucked behind one ear. He stands with his hands braced in front of him as if leaning against a counter or table, and he is looking off to the side and winking with a goofy grin.

A half-body drawing (from roughly stomach up) with an outfit consisting of a low-cut shirt, a dark collared blazer, and a long simple scarf. Habit's hair is also braided, with the bangs loose. A bit of chest hair is visible over the collar of the shirt. There is wind blowing in his face, sending the braid and scarf blowing back behind him. He is braced against the wind with his eyes closed and a big goofy grin with his tongue sticking out.

Two three-quarters-body drawings (from roughly knees up) showing the same outfit from the front and back. The front view shows Habit leaning back as if sitting on a surface, with a wink and goofy grin with his tongue sticking out. He is wearing jeans and a t-shirt with a large, sideways winking emoticon printed on the front. His hair is down. The back view shows him standing with left arm to his side, pulling his hair over his right shoulder, revealing the same shirt with a sideways surprised emoticon printed on the back.

A half-body drawing (from roughly hips up) with an outfit consisting of a blouse with elbow-length sleeves and a Peter Pan-style collar with scalloped trim, a loose, sleeveless flower-pattern top over it, round sunglasses, and a large floppy sunhat with flowers lining the brim. Habit's hair is loose under the hat, and his mouth is open as if in the middle of talking. He has one hand roughly at his hip, and the other is holding up a glass with an icy drink and a little paper umbrella decoration.

A three-quarters-body drawing (from roughly knees up) with an outfit consisting of a sleeveless collared blouse, jeans, a belt with a square buckle, and a small ascot tied around Habit's neck. His hair is tied in a ponytail while his bangs are loose. His hands are held behind his back and he looks off to the side with his mouth slightly open, as if in the middle of talking.

A half-body drawing (from roughly stomach up) with an outfit consisting of a frilly, off-the-shoulder, flower-patterned blouse that is tied into a bow on the back. Habit is slouched forward over a table or counter with his head peeking out over his folded, hairy arms, with his loose hair spilling forward. He is looking up curiously, sticking his tongue out.

A three-quarters-body drawing (from roughly knees up) with an outfit consisting of jeans and a printed sweatshirt with a graphic of a football, reading above the graphic "FOOPBALL", and below, "AMERICA'S SPORNT". Habit's hair is tied back in a ponytail with his bangs loose. He is giving double thumbs-up and has a silly expression with dot eyes and a big, open-mouthed smile.

A half-body drawing (from roughly stomach up) with an outfit consisting of a dark, baggy top slipping off Habit's shoulder, as seen from behind. Habit's hair is tied up in a big, sloppy bun with the bangs loose, and he has very light, patchy stubble on his face. He is looking off to the side with a sleepy expression, as if he's just woken up.

A full-body drawing with an outfit consisting of a long, open coat with thick frilly trim along all the edges, a low-cut top tucked into flower-patterned bell-bottom pants, and chunky platform boots. Habit's hair is tied up in a messy bun with the bangs loose, and he is wearing round sunglasses. A bit of chest hair is visible over the edge of the low-cut top. His legs are crossed and one arm is swinging behind him as if he's in the middle of dancing, and he is smiling wide with a little cat-mouth grin.

A small drawing of the puppet Habit. He is seen from behind with his hair tied in a ponytail, looking up and smiling wide.

A three-quarters-body drawing (from roughly thighs up) with an outfit consisting of very short, roughly cropped jorts and a similarly roughly-cropped tank top reading "HAIRY JEWISH GUY HOOTERS", with the last word being the Hooters restaurant logo. Habit's hair is down and quite a bit of body hair is visible on his arms, tummy, and chest. He is posing with one hand on his hip and the other in a V-sign, leaning forwards, with a silly expression with dot eyes and a big, open-mouthed smile.

A full-body drawing (from roughly ankles up) with an outfit consisting of denim overalls with cuffed legs, and a ringer-neck t-shirt with cuffed sleeves. Habit's hair is tied back in a ponytail and he looks off to the side with a neutral expression, standing with one hand at his side and the other at his hip.

A full-body drawing (from roughly ankles up) with an outfit consisting of roughly-cropped jorts and a spaghetti-strap tank top. Habit's hair is tied up in a ponytail, and he is also wearing simple round stud earrings. He is seen from behind mid-walk, one hand on his hip, leaning his head back to look over his shoulder with a big smile.

A small drawing of the puppet Habit. He is sitting on the ground with his hands splayed at his sides, wearing round sunglasses with frames that makes them resemble flowers.

End ID.

[royalsealy]

Tada! Coord for my comm's monthly challenge - Twinning with your tea cup!

I fell in love with this print as soon as I saw it in a summer GLB, I tried to take it a darker way than usual this time around with navy :)

Coord Breakdown + ID under readmore.

JSK: Cherry Ribbon Print by BTSSB

Bag: RuFRILL

Blouse: BTSSB // Navy Canotier: AATP

OTKs: Abilletage // Shoes: Axes Femme Kawaii

Royalealy stands in the center, he is in front of a busy desk and full book shelf, with a vintage chair to the left. He stands holding a white saucer with a navy rim, red flowers, and tiny black cats, over his face. He has big curly dark brown hair pulled up high, with cherry clips on one side and a circular navy canotier on the other side. The other hand holds the teacup with the same pattern as the saucer, outstretched. He has red heart and rose shaped rings on both his hands. He is wearing a navy short sleeve blouse with a peter pan collar and dark wristcuffs. His jumperskirt is white with thin, navy horizontal stripes. In between the stripes are red and pink cherries on one row, and red and pink text on the next row. This cherry and text pattern repeats throughout the dress. He is wearing navy socks with a lace pattern to them and black scallop wood block shoes. He has a red heart shaped bag across his body. End ID.

[munsonology]

Eddie/MadScientist!Reader

Eddie watches with wide eyes as you lift your top over your head. “As you can see from the text, photosynthesis occurs during daylight hours by a cells’ chloroplasts.”

You discard your blouse onto Eddie’s cluttered floor. In all his days, never would he have thought the hottest girl in school would be kneeling on his bed in just her bra and a skirt so short it’s damn near illegal.

“The byproducts of the process are ATP and NADPH, which are then used,” Eddie’s mouth drops open when you reach behind you to unhook your bra. Slipping both arms out, you throw it somewhere behind you. Your perfect tits on display, he wants nothing more than to suck your pert nipples like a thick milkshake through his straw at Sonic.

The curve of your breasts must’ve been carved by Rodin himself.

“—to produce many organic molecules,” you finish by untying the delicate string around your skirt, unwrapping yourself. Eddie’s mouth was tight watching the slinky material pool to his bedspread. Now in just your pretty lace panties, he desperately tried to not ogle you.

“Wow. You really make science come alive,” his voice cracks.

You crawl toward him, finally stopping when you straddle his waist. You push his shoulders and he lands back on his pillows.

“Would you care for a demonstration?”

Eddie contemplates the offer. His fingers play with the scallop edge of your panties, grabbing a handful of your ass, then trailing down to your inner thigh, right by your cunt.

“Would it be hands on?”

You take both of his hands and plop them right on your tits. He squeezes them and you let out a moan he’s only heard in porn and with the girls he’s managed to bed outside of Hawkins.

“That’s best for positive results.”

[fastwiemagie]

This mermaid came to shore for some good food and quality time with friends!!

This lolita fashion meetup took place during our latest heatwave, at the beginning when it had about 32°C. Still way too hot, but my linen blouse at least was very breathable! I've thrifted the blouse in spring and fixed the sleeves to be less tight - don't want to be strangulated on my elbows! I decided to go with the mermaid theme I've already envisioned last summer with this dress, but didn't have the opportunity to style yet. I think the big flowy sleeves of the linen blouse and the hair style I made are very mermaidy! I used a lace scarf, a pearl necklace, flower hair clips and shell hairclips and made a double milkmaid braid / hair crown up do. I also have a handmade shell-and-pearls brooch and a long necklace with mother of pearl discs and turquoise and light purple glass beads.

The bag is handmade, but not by me. I got it through a craft swap (my only contribution is the flap to keep it closed - which I haven't made button holes for yet, so I have to safety pin it shut with a big ass safety pin!)

[id]Picture 1 is a full body picture of Amy. Amy is a young fat white woman with glasses and long brown hair. In the pictures she's wearing her hair in a double milkmaid braid, with the hair braided around a white lacey scarf. White pearls and seashells, as well as white flowers complete the mermaid hairdo. Her blue dress features a map and is giving ocean and pirate vibes. The flowey white blouse is meant to symbolise the white spray of the waves. The hem of a flowy white underskirt is also peeking out underneath the dress. It's symbolising sea foam as well! She's wearing a brooch with little seashells on it and a long necklace with mother-of-pearl discs and glass beads on it, to give more mermaid vibes. The bag fits the theme as well (of course!). Even her black sandals have white fishes on them!

Picure 2- 6 are various more close-up pictures of OP. She wanted to show of her elaborate hairdo and the various accessories she's wearing.

Picture 7: OP is standing in front of a wooden shelf filled with Japanese knickknacks. They are for sale at the restaurant. She's smiling softly at the viewer.

Picture 8: A big round plate with a straight edge (pointing to the table's edge). The plate is black and decorated with a red rim. There is an oblong serving dish placed on top, with some gyoza and spring rolls on some white baking paper, as well as some sweet potato hash browns.

Picture 9: A big round wooden serving plate with a red rim. On top is a pretty blue-and-white patterned bowl with a red rim, with various vegetable tempura in it. Next to it is a little bowl with scalloped edges and soy sauce pimped with spring onions in it (to dip the tempura into). There's also a red napkin with black chopsticks on the plate.[/id]

[prolix-yuy]

i spun the wheel and got the Octopus 🐙 i have no idea what it is but i'm gonna request it with javi p! i am so curious to see what you do with this 😂

I was so hoping someone would get the Octopus! It's a little athletic, but Javi P is a well-versed man, I'm sure he can handle it.

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Position: Octopus

Word Count: 1299

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ MINORS DNI, fingering (f receiving), unprotected PiV sex (don't be a fool, wrap your tool), brief oral sex (f receiving), discussions of negative self-image and body changes.

Notes: This can be read as a plus sized reader, or reader who has gone through a change in her body. It's not specific, but she does mention clothes not fitting right. Javi is here to quell some of that.

When Javier enters your apartment, a faint cloud of cigarette smoke and Big Red gum trailing, he doesn’t expect to find you sitting on the floor of your galley kitchen, mascara streaks down your face. Your legs are bare and spread wide to accommodate a pack of Virginia Slims and tumbler of bourbon. The baggy t-shirt barely covers the scalloped edge of your simpler panties - Javi had seen all of them by now, knows your mood by what you pull out or off. It’s a comfort outfit, and Javi can clearly see that’s what you need now.

“Hermosa, what’s wrong?” he says softly, kneeling beside you as you try wiping the dark streaks away. It only succeeds in smearing the mess around.

“It’s nothing, Javi, it’s…just girl stuff. I’m sorry, I thought you wouldn’t be coming tonight.”

Javi’s brows knit up, circling your ankle with his warm, strong hand.

“Why wouldn’t I come tonight?” he asks, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb as he watches your face. You bite your lip, exhaling hard like you’re frustrated with yourself.

“Julieta,” you say simply, crossing your arms and staring down at the ripples in the rocks glass. Javi shifts his jaw, settling down to lean on the cabinets across from you. The kitchen is too narrow to stretch his legs, digging the toe of his boots into the baseboards. 

“It wasn’t personal,” he says, hand still soft on you and eyes conveying as much apology as he can muster. 

Julieta is a new informant, embedded deep in the Colombian government and trying to dig herself out. She was snuck into the DEA offices today, fitted with a wire and given instructions on what conversations they needed to make moves. Javi had been the one to tape the wire to her chest, thick fingers gliding over smooth skin. She was nervous, flirting in that way that Javi knew meant nothing more than deflection from how scared she was. He spoke to her soothingly, and rebuttoned her blouse. At one point he held her hands in his and gave as inspirational of a speech about her bravery as he could manage. 

You must have seen. It must have hurt.

“I know it wasn’t, but then I thought, well if his eye is wandering, better give him something better to look at,” you say, words spilling out as you refuse to meet his eye. “So I went through all my clothes and tried on all the outfits I used to wear when I went out, and all the lingerie I had, and I just wanted to look really hot when you got here.” Your voice gets watery and Javi’s hands itch to pull you into his lap. “But I guess I’ve…changed or something, because everything fits weird or was too tight or emphasized all the wrong places and I just…it just hurt, that’s all. It made me feel bad about myself and I was already feeling bad about myself and I just hoped that you wouldn’t come tonight because I didn’t want to have to explain it to you because I know you would say…”

“What would I say?” Javi says, and it’s far from annoyed or angry. It’s understanding, and compassion. You sigh, and a small smile comes back to the surface.

“That it was work, and that you don’t have any attraction for her. That I’m…beautiful, and you wouldn’t be with anyone else but me. That you’re here, and that’s proof enough of how you feel.”

Javi smirks, sadness starting to fizzle off your bodies.

“Guess you’ve been listening then,” he says, smoothing his hand up your calf.

“She was really pretty. Smart. Brave,” you say quietly, and Javi finally holds his hands out. You follow easily, letting him drag you into his lap. Fitting his forehead under your chin, you both breathe for a moment as he lays soothing paths along your back.

“Can I show you what you are?” he murmurs, lips plush against your neck. Hands roaming, he kneads at all the places you bemoaned before, pressing you down on his hips so you can feel his cock fill against the harsh zip of his jeans.

“You’re kind,” he says, sucking on your collarbone just enough to sting. “And resourceful. Patient. Clever.” His hands travel up to cup your breasts, thumb swiping over your nipples to make you suck in a breath. “So fucking sexy. Delicious. Perfect.” He shucks your t-shirt up your chest to take one peaked bud into his mouth, swirling his tongue and sucking as he begins thumbing at your clit through your underwear.

“Javi,” you breathe, emotion crumpling the edges of the calm you’d finally achieved. 

“Look at you,” he rasps, tilting you back to sit between his splayed legs. He drags your panties down your thighs, discarding them somewhere to be found later. Cool air caresses your folds just before Javi’s rough fingers part you, sliding from your entrance to your clit. 

“Javi please, I can’t…” you plead, and Javi’s helpless to deny you. Fishing himself out of his jeans, he angles himself down to notch at your entrance. 

“I’ve got you, hermosa,” he soothes, pressing into your slick pussy with incredible restraint. Your head falls back against the cabinets, fingers scrabbling on the linoleum. Your face pinches in pleasure, but it’s not enough. He needs to show you more, better, what you deserve from a man that has walked the wrong path often enough to know what the right one looks like.

“I’ve got you,” he says again, fitting his hands under your calves to lift them up and onto his shoulders. You whine, the new stretch intense as he plunges deeper into you, helping hold your hips as you plant your hands behind you. It’s cramped and awkward and hard on his back but you’re looking at him like he’s hung the moon and if Javi doesn’t concentrate he’s going to bust right now.

He doesn’t have much leverage this way, but he can thrust deeper in, the slide out just enough before pummeling against your g-spot again and again. He knows he’s hitting it just right when you ride him back, tilting your hips to zero in on every pleasure center he can light up. Banding an arm across your thighs, he buries a hand between your legs and rubs the flat of his thumb over your drenched clit frantically. He’s not gonna last, you’re too good like this, you’re too good for him, he’s gonna…

“Javi, I’m cum…” you try to say before clamping hard on his cock, forcefully drawing his orgasm out and into your climaxing cunt. He hisses and curses through his teeth while you rock and gasp on his cock. When the final flutters subside he guides your legs back down, but instead of pulling out he lifts you back onto his lap, pulling you into a warm embrace that has his own heart swelling.

“I’ve never met anyone like you, hermosa,” he says, letting you lean back and take his face in your hands. The kisses that follow are slow and indulgent, as sticky as the cum now dripping out of you. Javi reluctantly slips out, watching your face relax and fill with adoration.

What does Javi want with adoration? To reward it, of course.

Quicker than you expect, he lifts and lowers you to the floor, peeling your t-shirt up and over your head. 

“I’m glad you didn’t find anything to wear. I much prefer you like this,” he teases, sliding back down your body to kiss your swollen clit. Your hips buck, snapping his gaze up to you.

Your eyes say thank you.

His reply I’ll spend eternity proving it all to you.

Then he dives in to prove it three more times tonight.

END

LJ’s Bangathon 2023

[femmefatalevibe]

Can you share some tips to look hyperfeminine?

Hi love! Here are some of my tips to achieve the hyperfeminine aesthetic:

Style:

Choose clothes in pink, red, cream, champagne, and pastel shades

Opt for lightweight fabrics: silk, lace, satin, chiffon, cashmere, Pima cotton

Focus on form-fitting and flared-out silhouettes: Camisoles, sleeveless V-neck blouses, bootcut or flared pants, scallop-hemmed shorts/skirts/dresses, A-line (or fit & flare) dresses, skirts, outerwear. Belle or flared sleeves, ruched detailing

Consider items with crystal, embellishment, and sequin detailing (cuffs, collars, bows, buttons, self-tie closures, etc.)

Accessorize with platform heels, footwear with stiletto heels, a sleek ballet flat, espadrilles, or a white sneaker, dainty jewelry, hair clips, skinny belts, and small shoulder/ top handle/clutch handbags

Beauty:

Focus on achieving glowy skin with a silky foundation and pearl or champagne concealer on the tops of your cheekbones, the bridge of your nose, the center of your forehead, the cupid's bow, and the chin

Use champagne eyeshadow on the inner corners of the eyes and right below the brow. White eyeliner to line the waterline can also provide this doe-eyed effect

Choose a peachy or pink lipstick in a light, medium, or deep hue with cool, blue undertones (or coral undertones if it better suits your skin tone and general coloring)

Keep your lips glossy or choose a lip product with a satin finish for a more subtle yet sumptuous look

Ensure your hair looks shiny and silky smooth with hydrating hair oil, leave-in conditioner, and shampoo/conditioner routine

Try a sweet, fruity, or floral perfume (lighter ones for daytime, more musky options for nighttime or winter)

Hope this helps xx

[prophecydungeon]

very belated Poast™ about the perona cosplay-coordinate-whatever-this-is i made last month!

fabric: robert kaufman kobe twill in ruby, and the world's nastiest polyester for the capelet lining

patterns: none. fuck it we ball. i traced off of an innocent world capelet i own for the general shape and altered the length and front closure. for the skirt, i went off the general length of a fully shirred meta skirt and traced the scallop size/depth off of a scallop hem jsk, and used the "sew and flip inside out" method.

this is actually the second capelet i made for this; i got a different fabric for the skirt (tl;dr i fucked up and got the kobe twill in ruby and not the fineline twill in ruby red lmao) so i remade the capelet to match. i quite like the kobe twill in terms of weight and texture, but if i lost my mind and re-re-made this (haha just kidding... unless?), i'd use the fineline twill in ruby red (it's slightly cooler and darker) to match BTSSB's iconic red x white pieces, which this is obviously inspired by. still, i like this vibrant red for perona! it works really well for her.

i fucked up in a lot of places! i don't think they're tremendously noticeable, though. the scallop lace on the side seams doesn't quite match up perfectly (one side is worse than the other, lmao) but i'm cutting myself slack considering i'd never made anything like this before. the thing i'm most frustrated by is the capelet, though - i got it in my head to try avoiding topstitching the lace on (like, why? who cares?) so i sewed it to the outer fabric but not the lining and then ended up trapping it awkwardly near the top of the collar. OH WELL. the pockets are also maybe two inches lower than i should have put them, which isn't horrible but is kinda annoying.

i also overshot the measurement for the elastic in the waistband out of an abundance of caution, but it turned out to be way too loose at con and the skirt shifted around a bunch. thankfully that was a super easy fix, and for next month's Local Con i should hopefully not be hiking my skirt up all the time, lmao. i think i'm also going to wear a bigger petti -- the one on the dressform, specifically -- since that gives a more cupcakey, Traditionally Sweet™ shape that suits perona's whole... thing. i'll likely wear a different blouse, possibly no bloomers, and maybe something at the waist too? who knows!

best part of this experience by far was the person who BOLTED towards me to compliment my outfit and then gave me a ghost princess badge ribbon..... whoever you are please know i am still thinking about that interaction every single day

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Great Escape

Warnings: allusions to non con/dubcon, kidnapping, drugging and other possible dark elements. Proceed with caution.

Note: Here is another wish! This one with Lloyd.

Please leave some feedback so I know you want me to do more of the wishes I got. Otherwise, I find it hard to keep my motivation.

Wish Corrupted: I wish Steve or Lloyd (dealers choice - I'm feeling indecisive today) would save me from my crazy, stress-filled job and give me more free time to enjoy my hobbies (reading, crocheting, quilting, or baking).

You hit the bar on the door. It doesn’t budge. You look up frantically at the beaming red EXIT sign above. You hit it again, again. You throw your body against the metal barrier, the calm footsteps closing in beneath the rampant puff of your breath.

“Real cute to see ya try, princess, but I’m doing you a goddamn favour,” his voice rolls down the hallways towards you.

You turn, pressing yourself to the door, pushing your elbows back as you continue your struggle to find some give. His shadow is skewed by the emergency lights, the stale office made sinister by the outage. You whimper. Who is this man?

“Aw, you don’t gotta be scared,” he silhouette reaches up with his pistol, scratching his head nonchalantly with the barrel, “but I can’t say it doesn’t fill my balls with joy.”

“Who are you?” You breath, choking on a sob as he struts closer, steps slow but startling. He doesn’t hurry, he knows you have nowhere to go. “Please, I… I didn’t do anything. Don’t hurt me.”

“I told you, kitten, you don’t needa be scared,” he coos, “I’m not gonna hurt you… much.” He snickers, the hall darkening the closer he gets, “I’m gonna do you a real big favour.”

You sink down to your knees. The door isn’t opening. You’re trapped. You put and arm up as you slump against the metal, waiting for the end. This psycho is going to murder you.

“Just don’t move,” he slithers as he stops before you.

He crouches and brings the silencer under your chin forcing it up. You bat your lashes and peer up at him. His face is lost in the dark. He tuts as pushes the barrel firm against you.

“Such a pretty face,” he purrs, “all you gotta do is hold still.”

There is no sudden explosion of gunpowder, no bang, just a prick. You slap your neck and he pulls away, chuckling as he holds up the long syringe. You brace the door with your other arm and whine.

“What was that?” You croak.

“Shhh,” he says, “deep breaths.”

Your muscles slacken, your lungs grow heavy, and your head wobbles. You lean into the door as the strength drains from you, eyelids drooping as the world tilts dangerously. The blackness of your subconscious swallows you up before you collapse.

💉

You come to slowly. Your body is stiff and your head is muddy. Your eyes open bit by bit, taking in the expanse of the strange room. The unfamiliarity fills you with dread. What is this place? How did you get here?

You can’t remember. You groan and touch your head, your hand clumsy, seeming almost detached from the rest of you. It takes all your effort to sit up. You gape at the pink skirt across your lap, the scalloped hem, and the tight cinch of the belt around your waist. You never wore anything like that.

You plant your hand on the cushy mattress beneath you and lean on your arm as you steady yourself. You let your eyes explore. The wooden bedframe, the frilly edge of the sheets poking out from beneath the duvet, the round rug beneath the bed, the matching night table; every piece pristine and exact. Like the replica of a fifties sitcom.

You turn your head. There’s a double-wide dresser with a mirror over it. Your reflection gives you a start. You shift your body to face yourself. You watch as you stand, as if you’re looking at someone else. The pink dress buttons up the bodice, cap sleeves top your shoulders, and a round collar frames your neck. 

You lean forward, hands on the dresser as you gape at yourself. This can’t be. Where are you? Who are you? No more stiff-cut blazer, no tucked blouse, no tailored pants. It’s a twisted joke.

The door opens but you can’t bring yourself to move. You glance at it from the mirror. A man enters but you can only see to his shoulders. He stops just inside the door.

“You’re awake,” he says flatly, “nice to have you back in the land of the living, buttercup.”

The voice sends a shiver through you. You know it. You close your eyes and see the flashing emergency lights, the nearing shadows, feel the cold barrel on your chin. You spin to face the man and look at him head-on.

His hair is slicked back, his sides buzzed, a trim of bristly hair across his lip, a singular flaw in an otherwise handsome face. A stranger, like the woman in the mirror. You grip the edge of the dresser and stare at him.

He laughs and reaches for you. You cower as he caresses your cheek.

“I couldn’t figure out the makeup so you’ll have to do all that,” he says.

“What��� what is this?”

He snorts and tilts his head, letting his hand fall down your throat. He inhales as his eyes follow his touch and he plays with your collar.

“Not much of a thanks,” he hooks his finger under the top of your dress and draws you away from the dress. He keeps you close as he watches you placidly, “you’re free, sunshine.”

“What? Free?”

“That corporate wheel was grinding you down,” he intones, “it’s your turn to do the grinding.”

You shake your head. You don’t understand. He sweeps his other arm around you, groping your ass as he pulls you flush to him.

“Keep me happy, and I’ll do the same,” he rocks you with him, “eight hours at a desk or a couple minutes on your knees, I know what I’d choose.”

You blink at him in horror.

“Don’t worry, you’ll have more than enough time to catch up on that book,” he affirms.

“Book?”

He nods towards the bed and you notice the familiar curled corner. The same book you’ve kept on your coffee table for months, the one you never had the time or energy to finish. You gulp and look back at him.

“No more spreadsheets, cupcake,” he winks, “but you’ll damn sure be spreading those legs.”

[chic-a-gigot]

Beaux-arts des modes, no. 3, mai 1937 (New York, Paris, London, Milano, Wien, Bruxelles). Bibliothèque nationale de France

1704 Informal afternoon robe in georgette with borders cut in round scallops. Blouse bodice, tucks opening out in front, V shaped low neck. Bell skirt with front fullness. — 1704a Taffeta redingote.