#(though I can like sew a button back on or the like)

[julymusings]

Jason Todd x Single Mom!Reader

I've been plagued for many months now by the idea of jason todd x young single mom!reader. I literally made this blog this morning just to post this

this is so LONG try as i might to shorten it i've been itching to get all this out of me so enjoy this word vomit i might just make a full fic if i'm feeling extra frisky

You got pregnant in college, and now you’re fresh out of grad school moving to a new city with your 3 year old daughter

You got a job at Wayne Enterprises, leading an important new project. You and your colleagues are invited to the latest Wayne Gala, hosted at the billionaire’s own manor. All these years as a young mother and a student, you hadn’t any experience with such extravagance-- how could you say no?

the party lowkey sucks because it's all old rich people so you sneak out to a balcony where you find a young man drinking whiskey and texting on his phone.

he introduces himself as jason, and his hand is rough and calloused when you shake it, but it's warm and sends a tingle up your arm. (😏)

You chat about your work, he complains about the stuffiness of a life at Wayne Enterprises and you laugh when he warns you to get out while you can (he's joking, of course. not because he thinks it's worth staying but because if you leave he'd never be able to hear that adorable laugh again)

when you go off on a tangent about how excited you are for your project, he's not even listening anymore. the sheer passion that lights up your face has his mind going fuzzy and a full orchestra playing in the background

you're pulled back in before he can get your number :( he's so mopey all weekend he doesn't even have it in him to retaliate when damian makes fun of him for having pink pony club as his top song for this month :(

when you get home your email is flooded with warnings from other parents at your daughter's daycare about a lice scare?? okay, you think, she's definitely not going on monday, you can just bring her to work with you, right? what's the worst that could happen?

the following monday he just happens to show up at the office (He can't just stop by to say hi to his brother who he loves?) (tim calls security almost immediately)

you're not at your cubicle (in a meeting, your desk neighbor informs him) so he mills about the floor like a lost puppy just waiting for you to show up so he can "accidentally" run into you

the woman at the front desk has a chair pulled up next to hers where this little girl with pigtails is sitting, trying to console her as tears stream down her face

jason springs into action, kneeling in front of her chair to ask what's wrong

she just sniffles and holds up her stuffed animal, an elephant whose button eye has popped out, the woman watching her trying to get her to hand it over so she can sew it back on but she wont let go

he goes full grey's anatomy, fussing over the toy like it's in mortal peril and complimenting her for being so brave before gently asking if he can try to fix it

she lets him take it and he uses the woman's travel sewing kit to stitch it back on

she's ecstatic, leaping forward into his arms to give him a big hug

but now she won't let him leave because no he has to have a conversation with the elephant first and introduce himself and give it post-surgery care instructions and listen to it talk about how much she it wants a puppy and he feels like such an idiot talking to that thing but anything to make this little girl smile

she pulls a little picture book from the backpack hung on the back of her chair and asks him to read with her and he can't just say no!

so he plops down on the tile floor and starts reading out loud and even though she's standing next to him craning her neck to see the pictures he's a head taller than her

when you finish your meeting and head back to the front desk to thank gretchen for watching your kid the sight you see makes your heart absolutely melt

jason and your daughter are sitting criss-cross applesauce on the floor of Wayne Enterprises as he reads to her, and he's pulling out all the stops, he's doing voices, sound effects, and she's giggling so hard she can't sit up straight

but then they both finally notice you

"mommy!" she yells, running to you and wrapping herself around your leg

you're surprised to see him, but definitely not disappointed, and if what you just walked in on indicated anything, it was that you wanted, nay, needed this man

so now you're flushed and hopeful, mind running with possibilities of why he's here; could it be? he couldn't stop thinking about you either? he came all the way to ask you out?

but jason is also surprised, astounded even, by the miniature carbon copy clinging to your leg saying something about scooby snacks

he's freaking out on the inside

through a tight-lipped greeting he excuses himself with what he hopes is a neutral demeanor (spoiler alert: it's not) and goes home to think

and you obviously know exactly what that was about, one doesn't go through pregnancy at 19 without becoming well-acquainted with the whole catalogue of surprised/judgy reactions

of course you're a mess because the early/mid 20s dating scene is hard enough as it is but with a toddler? forget it, might as well just give up now

you go home to call your best friend and get drunk over face time while she assures you that men aint shit and offers to put a curse on him (you consider it, but how are you supposed to get a lock of his hair?)

he's up all night hating himself for being such an asshole and trying to come up with a scenario in which this works, in which he can have you in his life and also a child and be the red hood because he can't stop thinking about you

so then he just says fuck it and the next morning he shows up at your office with flowers and a puppy stuffed animal and finally asks you out

[vincentbriggs]

so i am newly in a wheelchair which has been a Massive gain in my ability to go out and about. but i realized that i have aprox 0 clothes that look Good while seated. its a completely different silhouette and i am at a loss as to what to do for it. do you have any suggestions for what could look good seated? preferably no skirts or dresses.

Edit: Check the notes for more people's input, including actual wheelchair users who know much more about what works than I could!

Congrats on chair acquisition!!

Since you're sending this to me specifically I am working under the assumption that you mean to do some amount of sewing.

A high waisted silhouette definitely works best for sitting. I make all my pants with the waistband at my natural waist, and a bit of pleating or gathering at the back just like they did on 18th century breeches, and I've never noticed any particular discomfort from sitting in them. (I think high waisted pants are more comfortable in general, and that low rise jeans are evil.)

It's something I've never really thought about before, but sitting is a very legs-forward position, so perhaps a colourful or fancy stripe down the side would work well.

(I made this pair 10 years ago and they didn't fit well and are long gone, but I should do a better version someday...)

Or some other form of side seam decoration, like these fabulous button tabs.

(I don't know what the source for this mid 19th century fashion plate is.)

Cropped jackets would also be good. The first thing that comes to mind for me is the Carmagnole, which was a style worn by French revolutionaries. It's got a pretty similar cut to a regular 1790's coat, just shorter.

(Source)

(Source)

And there are other styles of short jacket, like this one from a few decades later.

I think it might be possible to get a similar effect from cutting down a thrifted corduroy jacket, depending on the pocket placement? It's not something I've done myself though.

A fancy little bolero could be a lot of fun too! I quite like these ones made by Marlowe Lune. Super easy to sew, and could be patterned by cutting down a bigger pattern that fits the torso.

They'd be a good thing to try if you have a smallish piece of fancy fabric, or a small bit trim to use, or want to try a small amount of embroidery.

There are lots of historical styles with sleeves too, and all sorts of decorations.

(Dunno the source for this one either, unfortunately, but the pin says 1880s reception dress. I think a little jacket like that would look good with a puffy shirt and pants.)

Short capes might be practical too, and the late 19th and early 20th century have tons of fancy capelets for inspiration, like this one.

Or this one.

I hope this is somehow helpful! I don't know if you're looking to sew things from scratch or to buy and alter stuff or what, and I have no personal experience using a wheelchair, but these are the best things I can think of for a suitable silhouette. Dramatic sleeve/shoulder puffs would also be shown off to great effect, if that's something you'd like to wear.

[aphroditelovesu]

Can I request yandere Other Mother platonic headcanons? ❤️

❝ 🕸 — lady l: I remember I used to be scared of the Other Mother when I was a kid lmao. Hope you like it and I'm sorry for any mistakes! ❤️

❝tw: technically kidnapping, manipulation, obsessive behavior and possible soul theft (?).

❝🕸pairing: platonic yandere!other mother/beldam x gender neutral!child reader.

The Beldam quickly became attached to you, though she tried to deny it at first. The Other Mother had shown obsessive behavior early on, albeit in a more subtle way but still present. She had spent so many years alone and starving for Coraline that the Beldam, though an ancient being and devoid of certain emotions, found herself yearning for companionship and food. She wanted a child to love and, ultimately, steal their soul. That was her original plan when you first moved into the Pink Palace, until she met you.

You were like a breath of fresh air to her: a naive child she could manipulate and eventually steal your soul from. The Beldam initially only wanted to lure you in and feed off of you, but the Other Mother found herself liking you and your company, and her plans to steal your soul were shelved. How could she steal your soul if she loved you so much?

Beldam soon found herself luring you into her web, with treats, gifts, and anything you could possibly want and desire, while at the same time manipulating your parents into neglecting and ignoring you so that you would be completely dependent on her.

With her, you will feel welcomed and understood, appreciated and deeply loved. Beldam wants you to be happy with her, to be her child forever, and so I see her wanting you to let her sew the buttons on your eyes, because that way, you would be stuck in your child form forever. Wouldn't that be amazing?

She is extremely manipulative and will do anything to make you want to live with her in the Other World voluntarily. Beldam will try to be as kind as possible, gentle and spoil you beyond measure. Eventually, the Other Mother will suggest putting the buttons in your eyes, but she will respect your choice if you say no at first.

Beldam is a very loving mother, always wanting to hug you and shower you with kisses. The Other Mother will cook whatever you desire and will fulfill any wishes you may have, although it is all just an illusion. There is no doubt that you will feel safe with her, loved and adored.

You will be living with her in the Other World permanently, regardless of whether you let her sew the buttons on you or not, there is no way she will let you return to your old life. Why would you hurt your own mother like that? You have everything you want with her, with a mother who truly loves you, so why go back?

She knows exactly what to say to dispel your doubts, and every time you express a desire to return to your original world, she responds with a mixture of calculated sadness and disappointment. "Why do you want to go back to that cold, uncaring place?" She whispers, her eyes filled with a pain that almost seems genuine. "Here, you have everything you want. I am your real mother, the one who will always take care of you. Your real parents never cared as much as I did."

Despite all her care, there are times when the Other Mother reveals brief glimpses of her true nature. When you frustrate her or try to defy her rules, her body is tense, and her sweetness evaporates for a moment. These glimpses, which require a little more attention, can be enough to make you question the sincerity of her love. However, before you can think too much about it, she returns to being the perfect mother, enveloping you with more promises of comfort and happiness.

Beldam is quite possessive of you. She wants to be the center of your world, for you to love only her and trust her completely, after all, she is your mother. The Other Mother is not jealous because there are only the two of you in the Other World, but she is possessive and wants you only for herself. Mother and child should never be separated, right? To her, the relationship between mother and child is sacred and unbreakable. In the Other World, she makes sure that you depend completely on her. There is no room for other influences, other people or even strong memories from your previous life.

She will punish you at times, like putting you behind a mirror and isolating you until you beg her for forgiveness, but in the end, Beldam will always pamper you and make sure that you are cultivating your love and devotion to her. And you will listen, right? Mother always knows best.

The Other Mother tries to be good to you in her own way, but her web of manipulation will only grow tighter and tighter and soon you won't remember who you used to be before you met her, everything will be forgotten and you will only remember her, your only mother. All the effort will be worth it in the end when you let her sew the buttons on your eyes and in that way, you will be stuck with her forever.

[dresshistorynerd]

Sewing 1890s Day Dress in Doll Scale

I went slightly overboard with this second historical doll project. Here's my first one. The style is from around 1897 and more of a middle class style. As with my first doll outfit, I tried to stick to historical methods as much as possible, but the scale forced me to do some deviations. I hand-sew everything though sewing machine was already widely used, because in this scale it's easier to control the stitch, there's not that much to sew anyway and also I just really like hand-sewing. Here's all the items I made. As said, I went a little overboard. One thing that's missing is the corset cover, but the layers of fabric were creating enough bulk on the waist as is so I decided to not make one.

This time I decided to try repainting the face. I don't have any doll customization materials, so I used acrylics. After couple of attempts I got decent results. Acrylics can't make as smooth and delicate finish as pastels, pencils and gouache, which can be used on vinyl with basing sprays, and I'm not experienced with painting small details on 3D objects, so it's a bit smudged at points, especially with the other eye. I aimed for 1890s very neutral make up and the type of expression that was popular in fashion plates and other illustrations.

Undergarments

Combinations and stockings

The combinations are split crotch as they were in the period. They are from thin cotton voile I have a lot of and is very appropriate. I didn't have really tiny enough lace for this, so it's kinda bulky, but I think it's okay enough. The stockings are cotton knit, which fits well. The garters are not actually necessary for this doll since her legs are rubbery.

Corset

I made the corset from a firm-ish linen and satin rayon pretending to be silk as the fashion fabric. The stitching of the boning channels is not super neat, this fabric is very unforgiving, I didn't have exactly matching thread and the scale made it very difficult. I of course didn't have tiny busk, so I used small hooks, sewed thread loops for them and used narrow metal wire for the edges. I think it looks surprisingly right on the outside. I used the same wire as the boning to reinforce the lacing on the back. I didn't actually use boning elsewhere but the tightly packed linen edges in the boning channels kinda work like lighter boning. I think it keeps the shape pretty ways even with just that. I stitched cotton tape inside to shape the corset further. I also didn't have tiny metal eyelets so I hand-sewed the lacing holes.

Bustle pad

The bustle pad is from linen and stuffed with tiny cabbage.

Petticoat

The petticoat is from the same cotton as the combinations.

Outer wear

Skirt

The fabric is cotton half-panama. It's pretty thin, but firm. I would have liked to use a woven wool, but I didn't have any that's thin enough to work in this scale. I think this cotton looks close enough in this scale to a wool with a tight weave, so I'm imagining it's that. My problem was that the cotton was white, but I wanted light brown. I wasn't going to buy any fabric for this, so I did the reasonable thing and dyed it with red onion peals (I've been doing natural dye experiments so this worked well for me).

Shirtwaist

The shirtwaist is from the same cotton as the undergarments. Yes, I dyed it too. I didn't have thin enough cotton in a color that would fit with the skirt and the purple bow, so I dyed it light blue with fabric color. Since I already went the trouble of dyeing I decided I might as well make a small flower print to it since that was popular in the era. I didn't want it to jump out too much but the lighting makes it even less visible. I made it with a white fabric pen. The collar and cuffs are reinforced with linen. I also sewed small stick-like beads to the cuffs on both sides, so one acts as a button (I sewed a buttonhole too) and the other makes it look like they are cufflinks. The bow is from the same fabric as the corset and the belt is sewn from the same cotton as the shirtwaist. The buckle is from a barbie belt.

Waistcoat

The waistcoat is from the same fabric as the skirt, thought the lapels and the back are from another satin rayon. I tailored the front panels and the lapels by stitching the linen interlining with tailor's stitches (I don't remember if that's the correct word in English) into shape. There is some wonkiness on one side of the hemline for some reason.

Boots

I made the slightly insane decision to make the shoes fully from leather, like they would have been in the period. I had an old broken leather wallet I had saved in case I needed some leather scarps. It has fairly thin leather, so it was workable here. It's light brown though, so I used black shoe polish to darken it. I wanted black or very dark brown shoes. I stacked the heels from glue and leather pieces and carved them into the right shape and sewed the shoe itself to leather shaped as the sole and glued it to the heeled and shaped sole. After I had shaped the shoes and the heels as much as I could I painted the heels black.

[spacexgrl]

Bittersweet ! 💋

mdni <3 you’re here pt 8

series masterlist 🍒

~ in which Ellie breaks up with you and you go a little crazy ~

ex! ellie williams x fem! reader , abby anderson x fem! reader

college au!

warnings: SMUT!!! angst, break up, cheating,cursing, toxic behavior, smut in future chapters, sexual themes<3 feminine and girly reader ,not proof read!!

taglist: pls comment if you want to be added! <3 @elliessweetheart @lonelyfooryouonly @vamp1reg1rrrl @autisticintr0vert @amsxdoll @addthespaghetti @hemmo01 @elliecoochieeater @to-the-stray-dogs @teenagemoonharmony @velvetcakegirlie @kl1q @cirrusdoll @icedsimpsayo @softrosekisses @bbnbhm @5sos @hopelesssheaven @gingerpines

The short drive to the restaurant was so fucking shitty already oh and don’t get her started on the fight that ellie had with dina while getting ready. She recalled that annoying voice of her girlfriend screaming and nagging at her for her outfit even though it was the most formal thing she owned…it had a meaning also but dina absolutely hated it ellie are you serious? you can’t wear that it’s like 40 years old what will my family think?! Ellie rolled her eyes and ignored her comments, she didn’t give a flying fuck it was a perfectly fine outfit and she looked so good in her newest pair of black pants, a white button up shirt and Joel’s old jacket that he gifted Ellie because it didn’t fit him anymore..(it was from his young years he saved it for her!)

she remembered when you surprised her with sewing it tighter so it fit her properly! She can’t stop looking at the small detail you also left for her..your initials sewed on the inside of her right sleeve by her wrist..in a delicate baby blue color..she let out a heavy sigh on the passenger seat of dina’s car, her head glued on the window not daring to take a look at her girlfriend..she insisted on driving not wanting her family to see her get into Joel’s beat up truck ellie please i’ll drive..not planning to drink anyway..my family can’t see me get into your old ass truck at this point ellie just accepted that she’ll never meet the expectations of her girlfriends family..thank god dina’s driving because ellie would’ve driven into a tree on full speed wouldn’t survive without a drink or two..

that’s when her mind wandered to her first meeting with your parents it was a hot summer night you and ellie spent the entire day outside got some ice cream and forced ellie to tan with you..which resulted in a big sunburn on her back..it was painful as fuck but she didn’t care because she just had so much fun with you besides you took care of her sunburn for the next few days so she didn’t complain…later that day you invited her for dinner with your family it was a barbecue in your backyard your dad busy with everything that was on the grill he always placed extra meat on ellie’s plate so she can get big and strong as she commented that she just started working out..your mom giggled don’t eat too much from the grill i still have dessert in the fridge! and it was the best tiramisu she’s ever eaten in her entire life

..that night she also stayed at your house..you stayed up until you could see the beautiful sunrise from your balcony..your eyes were glued to the beautiful scenery in front of you but ellie’s eyes never left you..the way the sunlight kissed your nose and spread all over your face making you look like the angel you were and still are today..if the sun was a person it would always be you. ellie look the sunrise is so pretty! your smile almost blinded her because it was so beautiful and bright under the golden light..yeah it’s pretty..but you’re prettier…

Ellie woke up from her daydream as dina parked the car, heart heavy in her chest as she replayed the memories of you in her head..rethinking about what she could’ve had if she hadn’t been a total asshole..in moments like these she’d smoke a blunt or/and ‘pop’ an edible as she’d always say..(depending on how horrible she’s feeling) ever since you broke up her consumption habits have increased..she couldn’t even remember the last day that she was fully sober..but she wanted to make a good first impression today right? she regretted staying sober so bad

Ellie and Dina got into the restaurant silently, the friendly waiter walked them to their table with freshly baked bread, olive oil and red wine vinegar..ellie munched mindlessly on a piece of bread and burned her tongue while they waited for her family to arrive, still in complete silence…as she was about to give some lame ass excuse to go outside to smoke an emergency cigarette she had in her pockets (just in case she needed to calm herself down) Dina’s family arrived , not noticing you and abby right behind them.

here goes nothing

💫

you were blown away by the restaurant, you couldn’t even believe that it was a real place..it was on the highest floor of a tall building surrounded by big windows allowing you to see your city from above..you could see every single light and movement of the night it was really beautiful.

“ahh yes miss anderson! It’s a pleasure to have you and your beautiful lady here, please follow me i’ll lead you to your table.”

you and abby thanked him and took a seat.

“would you like a bottle of our finest vino tinto? i can also get you champagne or something from our variation of cocktails?”

both of you looked through the menu and decided that you wanted to share an appetizer, then you moved on to the main course, convincing abby to choose something you wanted to try too so you can share.

“i’m the driver today so i’ll take a sparkling water with lemon please and no dessert for me”

the waiter nodded as he selected her choices on his electronic device then he turned in your direction.

“i’ll take a frozen strawberry daiquiri and a matcha crème brûlée for dessert please”

he thanked you two and moved on to the other tables.

Ellie’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets by her starstruck expression as she spotted you and anderson. The way you held onto her bicep as you walked to your table made her blood boil, the fake smile she put on her face fell almost immediately. The fact that you looked like a model in your pretty dress and obviously new designer shoes didn’t make it any better. You looked like someone out of a movie..you looked like abby’s trophy wife and it hurt so fucking bad how perfect you looked together.

Ellie’s sadness quickly turned into pure disgusting jealousy as abby pulled her sleeves up to her elbows, exposing her obnoxiously shiny rolex and her stupid toned and veiny underarms. She observed how you drooled over her, biting your lip and giving her those bedroom eyes Ellie used to receive…as if you’d fuck her right there and then and she hated it she hated every second of it..

or did she?

Ellie started losing herself in her thoughts again..the voices of dina and her family slowly fading away as her mind wandered while her eyes were focused on you..suddenly you stood up and climbed onto the table, now you were on all fours moving towards abby until you were eye to eye with your noses touching..abby was already unbuttoning her shirt, exposing her chest.. the way you arched your back made her head spin it only got worse as you proceeded to crash your lips on abby‘s, devouring her mouth with your wet tongue while biting and sucking on her lower lip..

you let go of her and got on the ground again, you slipped your dress right off of your shoulders..red fabric pooling right by your ankles leaving you in nothing but your expensive designer heels. Ellie was a drooling mess she could cum from the sight alone..jesus fuck she cursed under her breath as you undressed abby, revealing her big navy strap on underneath her slacks..she took a seat on the table with you on top of her facing your backside..her rough hands grabbed onto your waist and picked you up..hovering your asshole on top of her lubed up cock..giving ellie a perfect view of your fucked out face while spreading your legs open..your dripping pussy on perfect display.

“abby fuck my ass please! yesyes fuck just like that-ah!” you begged for abby as she lowered your body down on her length..your tight walls swallowing her whole as she moved you up and down..Ellie’s eyes almost missed the way you mouthed ‘come here’ as she ogled your bouncing tits…your pornographic moans filled the entire room but the other guests acted like you weren’t there..Ellie didn’t give a fuck she needed to be inside you now..she hurriedly got up from her chair and undressed immediately on her short way to your table where you were being fucked in the ass by abby..as she unbuttoned her pants she revealed the strap she was suddenly wearing herself..it’s so thick and your favorite shade of pink..god she remembered how much you loved it when she fucked you with that one..ellie positioned herself in between yours and abby’s spread legs..she teased your drooling hole with her tip and grabbed your jaw “beg for me slut” your eyes proceed to water yes you loved the way abby split your ass open but you needed ellie you needed more “ellie baby please fuck my pussy! a-ah i’ll do anything just stuff me daddy!”

your breath hitched when ellie held both of your legs open as she slammed her hips into your cunt..every time her fat tip dragged across your sweet spot you could see stars the sensation of your holes being abused and filled at the same time sent you into an entire different dimension you were about to squirt everywhere if they kept going like this!!

“god ellie just like that! so fucking good baby! gonna cum so hard oh-!”

she loved when you screamed her name

“ellie! ellie!”

you sneaked your arms around her neck and pulled her into a heated kiss, teeth colliding as you tried to kiss her harder and harder while the familiar sensation of an orgasm approached

“ellie ‘m gonna-“

snap!

“earth to ellie? your food’s getting cold”

Ellie woke up from her second daydream of the day with uncomfortably drenched boxers as dina snapped her fingers in her face, seemingly disappointed in her girlfriend’s inattentive and distracted behavior..she quickly figured that it had to do with you..of fucking course it’s always your fault for appearing in the same places as ellie all the damn time..dina rolled her eyes as she looked in your direction nausea creeping up from her stomach as she studied how flawlessly perfect you looked..there’s no way ellie could get over you..the sting of jealousy that appeared on her heart was starting to turn into defeat..not knowing how long she can put up with ellie anymore ..she loved her she truly did but there’s just no way that ellie could love her the way she loves you..and deep down she knows that you’re not one to blame..dina wants to despise you so fucking bad but she can’t..she was the reason why your relationship with ellie fell apart after all and she’s developing feelings of pure guilt..she wished she could apologize to you but she’ll never have the guts to do so..and to be completely honest? you don’t want to hear shit out of her fucking mouth because it’s not her job to clean up after ellie’s mistakes..you’re not having any of that.

“yeah sorry needed to let it cool down for a bit”

ellie said quietly while taking a bite of her cold ass food..following with an extremely awkward silence until talia picked up a conversation with her again..eager to know all about her sister’s new lover girl..praying that she could be the one for her..

if she only knew..

💫

you and abby had a fantastic night..your meals were absolutely delicious but the cocktails were definitely your favorites! you were on number three by now abby noticed that you got more chatty the more alcohol you consumed and she found it really cute..she could stare at you and listen to your random rambling for hours to no end..right now you were telling her about you dream designer bags she had her phone by her lap and put them into her shopping cart to surprise you with two or three bags soon..she prayed to god that her dad wasn’t checking her bank account history..

“wanna head back home, baby? i’m craving some dessert right now..”

🎀

to be continued!!

[maleyanderecafe]

Over the Moon (Visual Novel)

Created by: Bibibbb99

Genre: Shonen ai

Over the Moon is a beautiful demo that honestly can be finished off as it's own short game. Despite the fact that we never see Galileo, the main lead, we do get to see the chemistry between the two boys as they have class and go to a festival together. The artwork is pretty and beautiful and I think it has good potential for a sequel or a more fully fleshed out game if needed. This game doesn't seem like it's available at the moment, so we'll keep this as a sort of documentation of what the game was.

The story starts out with Galileo in a dream, on the bottom of a spiraling staircase where he can either go up or down. Going up he sees a woman laughing and dancing with her lover, a star. As she dances with the star, you hear her confess her love. If Galileo goes down instead, he instead hears a resentful voice, crying out and wondering why they chose someone else but not them, confessing their love and begging to why they chose the star instead of them. Either way, Galileo is woken up by his roommate, Atlas, who has made the two tea. You can choose the type of tea, though there is a special interaction for choosing pepperment with too much sugar (which Atlas will say he will only make on special occasions since if he lives that way he might incur health problems) or if you choose black tea, which Atlas will be extremely happy since the two of them share the same taste in tea. Otherwise, Galileo will thank Atlas for making the two of them tea each morning, which will make Atlas happy and blush. Galileo starts talking to Atlas about a book he read, where Atlas talks about a romance between a wanderer and a librarian who must stay in her library, the school work the two have to do and how Atlas is pretty good at Potionology and finally gossip between other classmates, specifically two classmates named Theodore and Lucas. Although Atlas seems to disapprove of rumors, Galileo talks about how the two are planning to dance during a quiz to distract the professor, though Lucas ended up chickening out, with Atlas commenting that it's cowardly to betray your friend like that. Finally, Galileo talks about the dream he had, either of the girl dancing with the stars or the mournful voice, which will lead to Atlas talking about how similar the dream is with a story he's read.

The school bells ring for classes, and the two boys end up studying and going to class, leading to going into the library afterwards. Atlas compliments Galileo on his math scores and can either whine or playfully tease Atlas about it. Atlas seems to know that Galileo works hard on it despite beating Galileo in his scores. To this Galileo challenges Atlas to who can finish their maths first, with the winner being the glorious winner (as Galileo puts it). Atlas ends up winning before Galileo is halfway, so he declares Atlas the winner. Atlas asks Galileo to take off his blazer vest as there's a button that has been loose. Galileo can either refuse, take off the blazer or ask for Atlas's blazer to wear in return. If he does the latter, Atlas will blush and as Galileo continues his homework wearing Atlas's blazer and, Atlas will sew his blazer in return. After this, Atlas will talk to Galileo about a night market that's happening that a teacher mentioned during class. Atlas seems prepared for this venture and the two end up going to the fair together.

At the fair, Galileo can either look around or specifically look into one of the stores. If Galileo decides to look around, he and Atlas will browse around, looking at various potions, stuffed animals and others until Atlas specifically looks at one of the stalls. He looks at the painting of a cozy cottage with flowers and reminisces about living there (with Galileo) until they go back. Conversely, if Galileo looks specifically at one of the stores, a place that sells model telescopes, the vender and Galileo will talk about stargazing, with the vender even talking about a shooting star event. He loses Atlas for a bit but finds him looking at some jewelry, where Atlas decides to buy some as a gift to his mother.

Upon going home, Galileo immediately passes out. Atlas after checking if he's fallen asleep, talks about how he was worried that he had put too much sleeping potion into yesterday's tea and that he might not wake up. He has adjusted it, happy to see Galileo's expression every morning when he wakes up. If Galileo went to look at the telescopes, Atlas will unravel the present, showing a ring, and will slide the ring onto Galileo's finger and his. If they went around, Atlas will talk about how the painting was about the future he wanted with Galileo. He states he'll do anything for that dream, and that he hates living in the capital and how he doesn't want to be the family heir, wanting the two of them to run away together. Atlas will have different responses depending on whether or not he was allowed to sew Galileo's shirt, with him being extremely happy if the two of them swapped blazers for him to wear. If you specifically choose the block tea, tease him and trade blazers with Atlas, he will also have a short cute blushy scene where he will try to kiss Galileo on the cheek. After this, he tells Galileo goodnight and says he has to do some "pest control duties" tonight, excited by the face that he will make in the morning.

Upon waking up, Galileo sees Atlas frowning as the two of them drink tea. Atlas breaks the news that Theodore pushed Lucas off the balcony, leading to Lucas being in a coma and Theodore being kicked out of school, claiming that after the incident, the two had an argument and shoved Lucas off the roof. Galileo attempts to comfort Lucas, blaming himself for telling him of the rumor, with the last shot of the game having Atlas elated at the fact that Galileo is hugging him.

First of all, the artwork in this game is seriously gorgeous, from the CGs and the cute little moments that Atlas has with Galileo. The close ups of Atlas are extremely pretty and the small chibi moments are really cute. Even the backgrounds are made to be extremely pretty as well.

The story itself is generally pretty simple, establishing the daily life of Galileo and Atlas in boarding school, drinking tea together, going to classes together, studying together and going to the fair together. The story itself does a pretty good job for some aspects of foreshadowing, with the dreams showing both sides of Atlas's devotion, the more desperate and pathetic side and the romantic and loving side. It is pretty clear that Atlas loves Galileo, but to what extent is fairly unknown at least until we get to the end, when he seemingly causes Lucas to go into a coma and blames it on Theodore and drugs Galileo. I'm not sure why Atlas decided to go after these two boys, likely because Galileo showed interest in their shenanigans perhaps (or to teach him a lesson in the idea that he really does not like listening to rumors), though he does use this by pretending to be extremely upset that this happens so that Galileo will not do this again and so he can get a hug from him. We also learn a bit from the special interaction where Galileo is from a richer family (probably the reason why his grades are so high because he has to live up to his family's legacy), though he has no use for being the heir and will do anything to run away with Galileo. It seems that he's been drugging Galileo for a bit (though based on his worry that he over did it, I'm not sure if it's been a very long time yet) just so he can see him wake up and sleep. There are plenty of cute moments with Atlas fawning over Galileo such as when he complements him and blushes, making their favorite tea (worrying about his health or otherwise happy they share the same tastes), being extremely happy to mend Galileo's clothes (and even more so swapping them) and dreaming of a future together. I also just like the relationship built up between the two, with Galileo being a bit more teasing towards Atlas, and Atlas admiring Galileo and helping him when needed. Generally the only big gripe I have about it is the fact that we never really see Galileo or know too much about him. Technically he is the player character, but given at least on the itch.io page he is likely the red haired character, it would be nice to have some cgs that incorporate both of them. The general motif of stars is really nice, and is placed in most aspects of the story, or at least the key ones. I honestly think this game can be considered a full game, even if short, and it would be cool to see a sequel or even prequel. But as a demo, I think it can also be expanded on if needed to fill out other points.

Overall, extremely pretty and fun game with a nice yandere in it. As I said, I like the relationship developed between Galileo and Atlas and the general world (learning Potionology sounds cool). I hope to see more from this game and characters in the future.

[buzzcutlip]

For @tyferbebe who requested "You know you didn't have to get me anything" & Touch starved from my Winter prompts list <3 I changed the sentence a little bit

Not Monday Carmen Berzatto x Fem!Reader Rated E (oral sex) 2170 words

You have a massive, ginormous crush on your neighbour, Carmen Berzatto. You find him extremely good-looking—even though he might not be the typical hot guy type—and the fact that he’s a successful chef takes things to an even higher level. The fact that he’s been capable of running some of the best restaurants in the world definitely impresses you, and, frankly, turns you on in all sorts of ways.

Hi, are you at home?

Mind if I pop in for a sec?

The two messages from Carmy show up on the screen of your phone, and you simultaneously panic and get excited. You’ve just returned from the Christmas family visit late last night, and now you’re in the middle of unpacking, sorting out dirty laundry, and eating leftovers. The urge to put on at least a bit of makeup and change out of your old sweatpants is strong, but on the other hand, you’re worried that Carmen’s plan might change if you don’t respond immediately.

Sure, come over!

The next second, you hear the door opposite yours open and shut, followed by a quick rap on your entrance door. When you open it, you’re still clutching your phone in one hand.

“Wow, you’re quick,” you blurt out with a laugh. Carmy smiles back, his dimples appearing, and your heart swells. Your eyes quickly roam over his form and face, hoping that he won’t notice your obvious gluttonous interest.

“I’m returning the screwdriver,” Carmen says, handing you the tool he borrowed at the beginning of December.

“Oh, thank you.” This has become a game you two play. Not so innocent on your side, as you would often come up with silly reasons, but hopefully convincing ones, to either visit Carmy or invite him over to your place—to borrow a cup of flour, ask him to change a bulb, or help you move the sofa. On the other hand, Carmen’s been over to yours for small favors like shirt ironing, sewing a button on his chef whites, or suggestions for Natalie’s birthday present.

“Sorry about the mess,” you say quickly, clutching the screwdriver like it’s a precious artifact. “I just got back last night and haven’t really… sorted everything out yet.”

Carmen shrugs, a little smile playing at his lips. “Looks fine to me.” His eyes linger for a moment on the half-open suitcase spilling clothes onto the floor before they return to you. There’s something about the way he looks at you—like he’s caught between being bashful and wanting to stay longer.

“So, uh, how was your trip?” he asks, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. You know that despite The Bear being closed for the Christmas holidays, Carmen was probably busy coming up with new dishes and similar things. No rest for the wicked.

You’re a little surprised by the question—he doesn’t usually linger after these quick exchanges. “Good. A little chaotic, but that’s family for you.” Carmen knows about your mother and three siblings—each of you with a different father—and how intense she gets.

Carmen chuckles, the sound low and warm, and you wonder if it’s possible to bottle it. You’d play it on repeat whenever you needed cheering up. “I can imagine.”

“Oh—wait! I’ve got something for you,” you suddenly remember and reach into your suitcase to fish out a small package adorned with a green ribbon.

Carmen’s eyes widen, flicking between you and the package as you hand it to him. “It’s Belgian chocolate. Milk with roasted almonds and sea salt,” you quickly explain. “One of my older brother’s father is Belgian. He always sends a lot of chocolates. I think he doesn’t remember how old we are anymore,” you shrug. “This is my favorite.”

Carmen’s face softens as he looks at the package in your hand, and he hesitates for just a moment before taking it. His fingers brush yours, and you don’t miss the way he notices it too—his eyes darting to yours for a fraction of a second.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he says, his voice quieter, almost shy. “It’s nothing,” you reply, brushing it off. “I mean, you’ve helped me out so many times. And besides…” You trail off, shrugging again as you feel a little self-conscious. “I thought you might like it.”

Carmen studies the package for a moment before meeting your eyes again. There’s something so earnest about the way he looks at you, it makes your chest ache in the best way.

“Thanks…Uhm—I didn’t get you anything.”

You wave your hand dismissively, shaking your head as you try to mask the pang of disappointment you feel, even though you honestly hadn’t expected a present from Carmy. “Don’t be silly. It’s not like that.”

Carmen’s shoulders relax slightly, though his brows remain knitted together like he’s still mulling it over. “Still… I feel bad now,” he mutters.

“You really don’t have to,” you insist, a small laugh escaping you. “I mean, unless you wanna give me the New Year’s kiss I didn’t get.”

When you blurt out the last sentence, your eyes widen as you realize what you just said. You quickly laugh again, only this time it sounds a bit forced. “I guess I take that from my mom—finding the right guy who would stick around is not my strength,” you ramble on uncomfortably, trying your best to get out of the situation with as much dignity as possible.

Carmen looks genuinely caught off guard, like he’s not sure if you’re joking or not. You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks, spreading all the way to your ears. “You serious, or…?”

Your heart skips—no, jumps—at his words. The laugh that escapes you now is soft, nervous, and entirely unplanned. “I mean… maybe?” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

Carmen’s eyes flicker to yours as he steps just a little closer, the tension between you so thick you can almost touch it. “You tell me,” he says conspiratorially, his voice even softer now.

You don’t even realize you’re holding your breath until he leans in, his movements careful, like he’s giving you all the time in the world to pull away. But you don’t. Instead, you tilt your head, your lips brushing his just barely, soft and tentative.

It’s you who leans back first, afraid of him ending the kiss. Only now do you realize you’re wearing old sweatpants and a stretched-out t-shirt, your face completely makeup-free. Carmen’s seen you at The Bear, when you went there for dinner with a friend—all dressed up in fancy clothes and carefully styled hair. “I’m a mess,” you state, still vibrating from the little kiss.

“You always look pretty,” Carmy says quietly with a small smile, sounding genuine. You want nothing more than to kiss him some more, so you ask: “Was that just a one-time—” but before you have a chance to finish your question, or even your thought, Carmy’s lips are on yours again, and your brain short-circuits.

Your bed is hiding behind an old antique paravent you bought in Boston when you first moved here. The bed itself is large, just how you like it, with a solid wood-carved headboard. That’s where you end up together.

The touch of your tongue against Carm’s is intoxicating; the taste of his kiss is absolutely addictive. You moan into the kiss needily, the sound catching in the back of your throat, and blush furiously at your own reaction.

Despite how much you hate admitting it, it’s been years since you kissed someone like this—since a guy has touched you like Carmen is now. His hands roam up and down your sides under your jumper, squeezing the meat of your thighs, enveloping you heavily, wholly.

Carmy’s solid weight above you is grounding and electrifying all at once. Your hands find their way under his hoodie, fingers brushing against his warm skin, the wiry strength of muscle a reminder of how physical his life is. He lets out a quiet, almost shy groan when your nails graze his back, and you feel the sound in your chest as much as you hear it.

“Is this okay?” he asks between kisses, his voice husky, his breath warm against your neck. The care in his tone makes your stomach flip. “Yes,” you whisper, arching into him.

That seems to give him permission, and his touch grows bolder. He pushes your shirt up, his fingers brushing against the bare skin of your waist, sending shivers up your spine. His lips trail from your mouth to your jaw, to your neck, each kiss deliberate. You’re finding it harder and harder to keep still under his attention, your head tilting restlessly, your teeth sinking into your lip to stifle the embarrassing noises spilling from you.

When Carmen leans away and up, you almost protest. He sits back on his haunches between your spread legs, all flushed cheeks and messy hair. He looks adorable and also devastatingly hot. Before you can say anything, he swiftly takes off his t-shirt and jumper in one go, and you finally have the opportunity to admire his bare torso.

The second you want to get up to explore his torso properly with your hands—and maybe your mouth—he stops you.

“Lie back,” Carmy gently nudges you into position, and you obey willingly, watching him curiously.

Carmen’s gaze is heavy, filled with an intensity that sends a fresh wave of heat coursing through you. His chest rises and falls with uneven breaths as he studies you quietly. All you can do is watch as he reaches down for the waist of your sweatpants.

“Can I…” he trails off, leaning down to kiss the sliver of bare skin peeking between the waistband and the jumper. Immediately, you nod, letting him know he has your consent. You even help him push the garment down your legs and off. His calloused fingers are warm, rough in a way that contrasts beautifully with how gently he’s touching you. You feel like you’re about to melt into the bed.

A sudden stillness forces you to open your eyes to check on Carmy. He’s staring down, right between your legs.

“It’s not Monday,” he says, sensing your eyes on him.

“Whaat?”

He touches his thumb to your pelvis bone. “Here. It says ‘Monday.’”

Confused, you look down. It takes you only about two seconds to understand that he’s referring to the word on your panties, just above a picture of daisies.

“Shut up,” you nudge him with your knee, laughing.

He chuckles low, his breath fanning against your skin as he presses a kiss just below your navel. “I’m just observant,” he murmurs, his lips brushing your skin between words, sending a violent shiver up your spine with the tender contact.

“And for the record, these”—he hooks a finger under the elastic, tugging gently—“are cute as hell.”

Then, instead of taking your underwear off as you expect, he takes your hand in his and pulls it down to your crotch—a silent invitation to touch yourself. You do, feeling your heart in your throat, turned on and shy in equal measures. Carmen watches as you stroke yourself through your panties, hesitantly at first. You’ve been wet since the moment you two started kissing, the damp patch on the pale blue fabric drawing Carmy’s eyes.

He lowers himself, planting open-mouthed kisses on your inner thighs and moving higher, closer to your core. He kisses your hand too, mouthing at it with his tongue as if it were your mouth—or your pussy. You can’t believe something so innocent can feel so sexual, and you let out a stream of soft moans. With every passing second, you’re closer and closer to voicing out loud that it’s time for the main act.

Carmen seems to sense it—your need, your desperation. His gaze flickers up to your face, heavy-lidded, and he murmurs, “Don’t rush. Let me take care of you.” His voice is a low rasp, full of tenderness and heat.

The way he’s looking at you sends another ripple of arousal straight through you, and your breath catches when he pulls the soaked crotch of your panties aside, kissing your pussy for the first time.

“Fuck. Carmy,” you whisper, your voice shaky.

He hums against you, not letting up, giving you a hard lick—one that ends right at your sensitive clit. Your hands find his hair, threading through the soft strands as his lips and tongue explore you. You can feel his breath against your skin, the way it hitches every time you squirm or let out a sound. All the sensations are new, overwhelming, and intense in the best possible way.

Carmen doesn’t stop, doesn’t hesitate. His mouth is warm, deliberate, and unrelenting. The rough drag of his tongue paired with the softness of his lips makes your head spin. Each stroke feels like he’s memorizing you, mapping out what makes you gasp and moan with the precision of someone determined to get it right.

[armory-rasa]

COUCH POUCH!! Free Pattern & Tutorial

...called thus because they use upholstery-weight leather for the bag body, that in my case was in fact skinned off a couch. 🤣 Turns out they are relatively quick and easy to make, so I tidied up the pattern for printing and took pictures to document the process when I made another five of them.

First off, print your pattern, 100% scale:

The bag shape was a modified version of the pattern I used for the Morpheus sandbag, but sized to fit in the roughly 11" squares that my couch skin came in. It makes a bag that sits very well on a tabletop, thanks to the flat base.

Though it turned out to not be the most efficient use of material, because that plus-shaped pattern tessellates well, if you're cutting them out of a full hide, but makes a lot of waste when you're cutting them out of squares of material. A more efficient design would have a half-rounded front and back, and a gusset between them, like so:

Ah well. It's not like I have any shortage of couch skin, though for the next round I'm going to experiment with a more efficient pattern.

First step, trace and cut out the bag body from your chrome-tan leather:

Like I said, this was upholstery leather, but anything that's flexible and ~1.5 mm thick will do.

The flap and front need to be a stiffer leather though -- I used 7 oz latigo, but veg-tan would work equally well. (And then you could ✨tool it!✨)

Cut them out, and then use the pattern to mark where your holes are going to be. Mark the holes on your bag body too:

The latigo pieces get hand-stitched to the bag body, so I used a stitching groover to carve out little channels for the thread -- it's not strictly necessary, but it makes your stitches lay a lot more neatly:

Punch the holes shown below:

I used a ~5 mm hole punch for those, and a 1.5" slot punch for the belt loops. Some of the holes on the front piece you're not punching yet, because they need to go through both layers.

I put a dab of contact cement on the pieces (circled in white) to help hold them in place when I go to punch the stitching holes:

(Make sure you're not putting glue between the belt loops)

Wait fifteen minutes for the contact cement to dry until tacky, and then line up the holes and the edges and press the pieces together:

Punch stitching holes:

Saddle-stitch both pieces in place (takes 28" of thread per):

Now you can punch these holes:

(I used a slightly smaller hole punch than for the others, but it doesn't really matter.)

Now press the right sides of the leather together and sew up the seams from the inside:

A regular sewing machine should be able to handle this, though you will need thicker thread, a heavy-duty leather-sewing needle, and a walking foot attachment. (If you don't have a walking foot attachment, it is SO WORTH getting one, even if you don't expect to sew much leather. Seriously, I use it for everything -- once you go walking foot, you don't go back. 💀) Because you can't pin leather without leaving permanent holes in it, tiny binder clips can be helpful for keeping your material lined up.

What they look like when you're finished sewing:

Cut 19" of lacing for the drawstring, and 11" of lacing for the toggle:

I use the 1/8" EcoSoft lace from Tandy, I think it's stronger than real leather would be at that thickness. The only important factor here is that you need something with a bit of texture and friction -- a silk cord isn't going to stay closed, it's going to slip open.

MANY BAGS.

For these I used a wooden toggle -- cut another 8" of lacing, looped it through the toggle twice, and then made a tight square knot on the back:

But another option is putting a concho or a large button on the flap. The bag I copied this design from, in fact, uses a concho toggle:

Thread some beads on the laces to keep the ends from getting lost, and you are DONE! 😁

Happy Bagging!

[satorhime]

trouble comes twice ࿐ gojo satoru x female reader. satoru falls ill with a case of baby fever after seeing his baby girl dressed up as him.

content . ᕀ gojo and reader are parents [ referred to as ‘dada’ & ‘mama’ ], brief mention of pregnancy, emotional!gojo, sweet fluff with slightly suggestive dialogue at the end. 

“dada- dada, look at me!” 

your daughter screeches out, announcing her arrival with the bright and melodic babble of a mischievous child. she stands on her tippy toes, her fingers covering your own as she helps you twist the knob and open the door to satoru’s office. 

even now, he forgets that he’s a father, until he is reminded in the most wonderful way. sometimes, your five-year-old will beg to wake satoru up two hours before he has to go to work just so they can play with her dolls together, or she’ll step all over his toes as she squeezes in between him and the kitchen counter while the three of you cook dinner together or like right now, crashing towards him with all the subtlety of a carpet bomb of cursed energy— so eager to show off her costume that her feet accidentally stumble over your heels. 

dressed up as a miniature version of him. 

his lips curve into an instant grin, pressing the button on the screen of the phone tucked between his ear and shoulder to end his current call.  the sound of the higher up scolding him cutting off sharp and abrupt makes his grin widen. they can wait, but his baby girl cannot. twisting in his chair, he catches his daughter just as she collides against him with an audible oof. 

“did we interrupt an important call?” you greet him, a soft smile on your glossy lips as you walk around the large desk satoru is seated at. you pat a hand to his knee before leaning against the edge of his desk. “sorry, i tried to get her to wait.” 

“you kiddin’? nothing’s more important than my two best girls,” he says, tugging at the bottom edge of his blindfold to drag it down, his expression playful as he watches his daughter copy him. she hurriedly removes her own blindfold, a tiny scrap of cloth covering her summer blue eyes. 

“so who are you?” he teases her, twitching one milky brow at the bouncing toddler in front of him. “where’s princess? did a curse finally eat my snotty kid?”  

“i’m the strongest!” your daughter chirps excitedly, crisscrossing two baby fingers to mimic his domain summon. 

your bitty sprout is so precious with her tiny white curls, tied into two space buns and her black blindfold that she scratches at with the back of her fist. not to mention, the bottom half of her cherub face is covered by the high collar of the jacket she’s wearing, identical to gojo’s standard uniform and the result of you staying up all night at your sewing machine, shredding one of his spares into a costume for your daughter. 

looking at her like this, she really is a tinier, stickier version of gojo satoru. 

“the strongest, huh? look at that, you’re already my favorite child. megumi would never offer to take my place so i can retire early.” 

“satoru…” you start, shaking your head in half-hearted exasperation. “when she picks up your sass and uses it against you, i’ll be the first to say “i told you so.’” 

“worried you’ll be outnumbered, mama?” he shoots the words at you, flashing a smile that amusement drizzles from like sweet icing. 

you roll your eyes, and then he turns back to his daughter, reaching down to effortlessly gather her against his broad chest before he pulls gently at one of her fat cheeks, nuzzling her close. “how come you chose to dress up as me, jellybean? it’s not october.” 

“i’m going to a costume party for keigo and haru,” she explains excitedly, her little face brightening at the mention of suguru’s sons. “but mama couldn’t find scarlet witch costume.” 

“oh, ouch,” he whines dramatically, placing a hand over his heart and pretending to be wounded by her open honesty. “wound me some more.” 

“dada, you’re so dramatic,” she giggles at him, and though satoru’s genetics may have overpowered your own for the most part, the roll of her eyes is a trait she learned directly from you. 

“second place is a serious injury, little princess. i should go see if shoko’s awake to make sure i’m not dying-”

“i wanted to dress up as dada because he’s a hero, like avengers,” she cuts him off, so perceptive and honest. your daughter latches on to the collar of his jacket so she can pull his head closer and plant him a slobbery mwah! on his cheek, and if you see gojo’s eyes mist over, glassy ocean blue from tears, you don’t comment on it. 

“down, please,” she requests, grunting and wriggling until he sets her down on the floor with a wobbly chuckle. unaware that her father’s expression has glazed over, his mind spiraling from her words. 

gojo satoru doesn’t even shed tears at funerals, but right now? his eyes flicker to you desperately, and you soften like clouds, nodding silently. 

“sweet pea, the party starts at 3:30 so you have plenty of time to show megumi-nii your costume, why don’t you?” you suggest, giving your boyfriend a moment to discreetly wipe the wet away from his cheeks. sure, he’s seen his students grow into formidable sorcerers that he is infinitely proud of and sure, he may have gotten choked up once or twice while snapping memories of megumi’s important milestones— like his middle school graduation, and that one time he didn’t insult gojo loudly when he picked him up from class in front of his peers— but this…? this overwhelms him, the kind of love he feels right now.

this love… this love is so different, something he’s never experienced before. it’s unlike quick flings brought home from bars, trying to lift the weight off his shoulders for a couple of hours with a pretty face. it’s unlike the near religious idolization from his clan, smothering him with their expectations and obsessive admiration. it’s whole and pure— it’s his family, his true one. it’s you and your baby girl driving away his loneliness like sunlight chases down bad dreams. 

“okay, mama!” she agrees, nodding.

“but go directly to his room. remember where it is?” 

“i remember!” 

“i’ll be right behind you after i talk to your da. don’t annoy megumi-nii too much, ‘kay?” you turn around, opening the door to let your daughter out of satoru’s office and into the long corridor where you watch as she waddles in the direction to megumi’s room. when you can no longer see her, you step back into the office and shut the door before turning to look at your boyfriend. “she’s so excited to go to this party. it’s supposed to be superhero-themed and she wanted to dress up as wanda maximoff, but- are you still crying?” 

satoru barely remembers moving so quick, reaching out to hook one of his strong arms around your waist to pull you into his lap sideways.. he barely remembers cupping your cheeks into his big palms as if you’re his most precious thing, a goddess that carved out a piece of heaven for him to hold here on earth. your body is rounded and soft, a comfort to him when his emotions get the best of him. his eyes, pale blue like the northern glaciers, flicker over your face— to your expression that is more than concerned, and your lips that are parting to ask if he’s okay, and then, he’s kissing you—

you gasp, but your initial surprise melts into love, like a piece of chocolate held between your fingertips for too long, because you know what came over him now. you feel it too sometimes, when you see him bonding with your baby girl. it’s sweet, the way he spells words into those kisses— gratitude, affection, and something a little more primal that you can’t place. 

god, he knows you can feel his tears, saltine as they slip traitorously down his cheeks to pool in between the cracks of your joined lips.

when he pulls away a little, you wipe his wet cheeks with your thumbs, your heart tender from the aches until he ruins the moment by whispering four words against your lips that make your big doe eyes widen to full moons. 

“i want another one.” 

huh.

“are you crazy?” you whisper-shout, laying a fist against his chest to keep him from moving closer and indulging him in another kiss. before jellybean was born, having a child together had not been in either of your wishlists for the future, but two pale pink lines gleaming on your bathroom counter five years ago had changed everything and now, you couldn’t imagine life without her. 

but another one? 

“don’t tell me you’re getting baby fever just because she dressed up as you.” 

satoru doesn’t know what has come over him. he never wanted to have children of his own anyway. it was one of those stubborn pacts he made with himself when he was young and flippant. but seeing his baby girl dressed up as him— calling him a hero above all of his faults and failures— is making him want an entire litter with you, a dream team.

“she said i was a hero. i need to hear that from at least one more little me.” 

“we’re not having another baby just to feed your ego, satoru,” you shake your head. “i mean it so stop giving me that look!” 

“what look?”

“that look, the one that tells me you want to bend me over your desk right now,” you huff, “i have a party to go to.” 

“but she was so cute in her little costume, wasn’t she? we make cute kids, i told you that the first time you let me-” 

“i should have left you at dinner that night.” 

“but you didn’t,” he says, grinning toothily, his long, pale fingers sneaking under the hem of your shirt to tease at soft skin underneath. he’s got you already, and he knows it. “just like you ain’t gonna leave this office without another baby in you.”

꒰ LOLLYNOTE ꒱: waaaah, i hope you enjoyed this lil piece ! this was a bit selfshippy and totally self indulgent but i hope you love it anyways <3 thank you to @sleepygetou for letting me use her darling babie ocs keigo & haru too 🥹

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Tiny Shelby Feet - A John Shelby/Reader Short Story.

Just a fluffy lil' short that came to me this morning, besties. Hope you love it :)

Words - 700

Warnings - None. Fluff a' plenty!

“You alright, sweetheart?” 

No, you absolutely are not alright. And it’s all his fault.  

Being angry at him isn’t an option, though, because he’s always so good to you. Hell, it was him being very good to you that got you into this in the first place, your stomach swollen and rounded with the next Shelby offspring due to arrive into the family in the next couple of days.  

You toss and turn a little more, albeit slowly, heaving your bulk to lie on your back. “I can’t get comfortable.”  

“Bet ya can’t, bab. Can’t even imagine what it’s like,” he speaks softly, removing one of the pillows from beneath his head. “Lift up.” Pushing yourself up, he slides it beneath your lower back, the downy plumpness soothing against your aching back. “What is it like, though? Is there anything it’s similar to that I’d understand?” 

It’s sweet of him to even want to try and comprehend the feeling of being pregnant, at least. “Imagine if somebody gave you a gallon of Epsom salts and sewed your arsehole up.”  

His eyes bulge. “Jesus fuckin’ wept. That don’t sound like fun.” Those eyes continue to widen when he sees you beginning to wince through gritted teeth. “Ain’t coming, is he?”  

“No, no it’s a cramp in my thigh.” 

“Left or right?” 

“Left.” Your instruction has him reaching beneath the bedcovers, beginning to massage said thigh, the tightened muscles finally relenting within the grasp of his warm, skillful hands. Bloody John Shelby and his skillful hands. Again, it’s how you ended up like this in the first place. “Okay, that’s better now. Thanks, love.” 

He props himself up on an elbow, hand lovingly stroking your bump, smiling as he feels his unborn child wriggling beneath his palm. You still remember the day you felt those first kicks, running down to the betting shop and grabbing his hand so he could feel them, too. You’ll never forget how lit up he looked at the sensation of tiny feet nudging against his big hand. “Who do you think he’ll look like most, you or me?” 

You can’t help yourself. “Me, hopefully.” 

“Oi, you cheeky mare!” Desired effect achieved. “I suppose it’d be better. I know I’m handsome, but we don’t want two freckled ginger nuts in the house.” 

“I really hope she has your hair, and your freckles,” you speak, putting extra emphasis on the word she. ”You know I love your freckles." 

“Fuck off,” he mutters, batting your hand away from where your finger trails over his shoulder. 

“Oi, no violence! I’m carrying your daughter!” 

“Son!” he corrects with a pointed finger. “You’re carrying me son. No girls, they’re too much headache for my liking.”  

“Poor thing’ll likely never see the outside of the house until she’s eighteen,” you chuckle, stroking your bump lovingly. 

He snorts, curling his lip slightly. “And the fucking rest! Ain’t having no boys round her, oh no, none of that malarkey.” He then lifts his chin a little, nodding to your rounded belly. “That is if it’s even a girl in the first place, and I’m still saying it’s a boy.”  

You smile, your eyes growing tired, yawning right on cue. Finally comfortable, you’re able to settle, drifting off to the rhythmic stroke of John’s hand over your belly. He thinks you’ve nodded off, unaware that you can hear every word he whispers to your unborn child.  

“Don’t even matter to me, you know, what you are,” he speaks softly, leaning to lay a kiss just above your protruded belly button. “I’ll love you until the last beat of my heart. I will. Anything you want, it’s yours. You ain’t gonna grow up poor and scratching around to make ends meet like we all had to. I’m gonna be a proper dad to you, little’un.” 

You can feel a lump in your throat form thickly, smiling on the inside as you drift into slumber. It’s nothing compared to two days later, though, when you see John holding your newborn son in his arms for the first time, his eyes filled with happy tears. Or, when five minutes later, you birth the twin sister nobody knew you carried, too.  

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

Buttons

The request from @toomanytookas: I have such fond memories of my grandmother teaching me how to sew on her old Singer. Obviously a WILDLY different context for a million different reasons, but I love the idea of of Pin showing Joel how to sew or just explaining the general mechanics of using the machine. Maybe some physical guidance/touching a la the pottery scene in Ghost?

If you'd prefer to play with other characters, it would be sweet to see her teach Ellie now that she's working at the shop and I imagine she'd be curious about it!

Seams sleepover micro drabble request | 900 words | warnings: rated M for dirty thoughts and slightly dirty talk, outrageous flirting, topless Joel Miller | can be read independently of the series but is part of the Seams universe

‘Nice tits, Miller!’

Joel chokes on his corn chowder as Tommy’s voice rings loud and obnoxious in the half-empty cafeteria, a mischievous glint in his eyes when he makes himself comfortable opposite him, tray hitting the table with a clatter.

‘Seriously though, put them away before Maria sees you. This is a family place, y’know.’

Joel rolls his eyes. ‘Shut up, jackass.’

Tommy studies the familiar green plaid shirt on his brother that is sitting open to the sternum. ‘Buttons fell off, huh?’

‘Aren’t you a regular Sherlock Holmes.’

‘Pin gettin’ a bit rough with ya?’

Joel splutters, raising his fork in what he hopes is a menacing reproach. ‘Hey!’

‘Just jokin’, big bro. And no judgement if she is.’

He scoffs. ‘This is gettin’ real weird, Tommy -’

‘Why don’t you ask her to sew ’em back for you?’

‘She ain’t my seamstress.’

‘She’s a seamstress. And your girlfriend.’

Joel snorts. ‘You ask Maria to do all your chores for you?’

Tommy shrugs and replies around a mouthful of mashed potato. ‘Ask Pin to teach you then. What's that they say about fishermen and fishin’?’

He has a point, Joel has to concede. That’s how he ends up at your studio that afternoon, leaning against the doorframe as he watches you on the sewing machine. He likes the steady, mechanical staccato of the needle, the whirring wheel and the metallic squeak of the pedal as your hands and feet all move in almost nonchalant choreography.

He knows that under that ease lies years of experience, and there’s an understatedness about your movements that makes him stop and stare every time you're at the antique sewing machine. 

He waits patiently for a lull, not wanting to disrupt your rhythm. When you pause to inspect the stitching you’ve been working on, Joel knocks on the doorframe. 

His lips twitch when you startle, eyes wide as your head whips around at him, and it brings him right back to the day you meet, just a few feet from where he stands now.

But then you break into a wide smile. ‘What are you doing sneaking up on me, Joel Miller?’

He closes the distance with three steps, bending down to drop a kiss on your lips. ‘Just wanted to say hello - and to ask for a favour.’

You stare up at him, admiring the way a stray lock curls over his eyes. ‘What is it?’

Joel tugs on the front of his shirt. ‘Was wonderin’ if you can teach me how to sew my buttons back on.’

You eye his neckline, which is suspiciously low. ‘I thought you were just trying something new,’ you quip.

Arching an eyebrow, he asks, ‘Is it workin’ for you, sweetheart?’

Hooking your finger into the open V of the shirt, you grin. ‘I’m not complaining, but it doesn’t hurt to fix it. Take it off.’

Joel huffs, joking, ‘Buy me dinner first, at least?’

You watch his fingers push the little buttons out of the holes, baring broad chest and freckles with every downward inch. You hum when he gets to the bottom of the shirt and it hangs open, nothing but bare skin under it. ‘No undervest?’

‘Feel like showin’ off today,’ he winks and disrobes with a smooth roll of his shoulders.

You can’t help it, your breath catches - at the strong shoulders, the soft belly, the way he has one hand on his hip - and by the self-satisfied curl of his lips, you know he knows.

Clearing your throat, you stand and take his shirt from his grasp, the warmth of the fabric comforting in your hands. ‘Come sit over here.’

‘We’re not using the machine?’

‘Not for sewing buttons,’ you reply, opening a little box to find matching ones for his shirt.

‘Okay, step one,’ you seat yourself next to him and hand him the supplies. ‘Thread the needle.’

The thread looks more like a blade of the most delicate hair in between his thumb and index finger, and the needle comically small. But his hands are remarkably steady, and he surprises you by nimbly pushing the thread through the eye on his second try.

‘Pull the thread through and keep going,’ you instruct, snipping it off with scissors when you’re satisfied with the length. ‘Now, we need to knot the end. Loop the thread around your finger a couple of times, pinch it with your thumb and pull the end through.’

He does so with aplomb, and you remark, more to yourself than anything. ‘Your fingers are really dexterous for their size.’

Joel wriggles his eyebrows suggestively, the corners of his eyes crinkling. ‘You should know that first hand, hmm?’

A comment like that would’ve had you ducking your head a few months ago. But now, you narrow your eyes at him in playful admonishment. ‘So full of yourself, Joel Miller.’

Dragging your chair towards him, he leans in and murmurs against your ear. ‘Ain’t you the one who was full of me last night -’

Heat rushes to your cheek as he noses the sensitive skin behind your ear. ‘Joel, I thought you wanted to fix your shirt -’

Pushing the needle into a pin cushion, he shrugs and pulls you into his lap with a smirk, his skin hot under your touch.

‘Luckily, I don’t really need a shirt for what I want to do right now, sweetheart.’

More notes: Thank you for this adorable prompt @toomanytookas! I hope you don't mind that I tweaked it a little bit. I love that you have such beautiful memories with your grandma. Mine used to sew and do cross-stitch, I miss her so much 🥹

[butchreg]

cg ! vander headcanons !!

requested by anon. struggling atm but i feel worse not being productive at all so thought i'd try my hand at these. i won't be making a lot of vander content as i'm just not as familiar with him and feel less comfortable writing about men but he's so dad so just this once let me cook ! apologies if he's ooc i did my best.. not proofread ヾ(_ _*) any mistakes are on me. my posts will definitely be slower during this time , please be patient with me i'm doing my best but motivations and energy are both low and i have some personal things going on keeping me busy. arcane masterlist here , upcoming list here

vander's favorite nickname from you is "papa" or "papa bear" but he's not picky. whatever his little one wants to call him is cool with him. he prefers masculine titles but is not opposed to being called "mama" if it would make you happy.

vander is always mixing you up delicious milk concoctions. you never know what flavor you're going to get , he likes to surprise you , but they're always so yummy !

vander always makes you your lunches , leaving you notes like the one in the picture in the brown paper bag. he always makes you a special sandwich and is sure to add both a fruit and a treat in your lunch.

vander loves cooking for you ! he's always making you good hearty meals , whistling as he does so. if you show interest he's happy to include you , letting you stir a sauce or giving you the honors of being the taste tester. "hmm.. whaddaya think it needs , kiddo?" he wears silly aprons which make you giggle but he takes his cooking very seriously.

vander tries to make you handmade little stuffed animals. i imagine him making silly ones with button eyes like the ones in the photo. they tend to be fairly crude but are made with the utmost care and love ! he'll sheepishly scratch the back of his neck , a bit embarrassed when he gives them to you , fingers covered in bandages due to him continuously poking himself with the sewing needles. "they're not much but..." "I LOVE IT PAPA !" you interrupt , thanking him over and over. he chuckles , patting your head. "you're very welcome."

vander always knows how to deal with your big feelings even when you don't. he's really good at getting you calmed down and is a great listener , always knowing when you need to talk. "i'm here, kid." he assures you , wrapping you up in one of his signature bear hugs. "i'm right here." he'll stay with you , patting your back in his typical gentle but firm manner.

papa vander who loves to tell you stories. whether it's about his life or made up he tells amazing ones , you refuse to go to sleep without one. he likes to read to you as well , using an impressive array of voices for each character.

vander being so big and buff can be used to your advantage. he's always carrying you around on his shoulders , making you clap with delight as you survey the world from up high. he can scoop you up with ease - if you're ever to doze off or are feeling too small to walk by yourself he picks you up as though you weigh nothing, cradling you in his big arms.

the kind of papa who is always teaching you new things. he's constantly cheering you on , so proud when you get the hang of something new. clapping you on the shoulder , beaming down at you. "that's my boy/girl/kid."

papa vander who tells EVERYONE at the last drop about you. he's so proud to be your papa , showing everyone the pictures of you he keeps in his wallet , telling them stories about your adventures together.

[vincentbriggs]

Hello! Transfem person here. I haven't started HRT yet, but want to procure a 1730s menswear suit (actually decided based on your video). I would prefer not to wait for it if possible, since I don't know when HRT is going to be possible. I am, however, a little concerned about my bust size changing and affecting the fit of the waistcoat. Is that decade usually pretty forgiving in it's tailoring? I am also considering having the upper back tie like some later waistcoats to accommodate if necessary (even if it's not entirely historical), but I figured I would ask you.

Thank you!

Hello! Ooh yay! Not enough people do early 18th century, so I'm delighted to hear that! (Link to the 1730's suit mentioned.)

I think the fit would be affected, yeah. The sides of the waistcoat are easy enough to let out (and we have extant examples of waistcoats with an extra strip of fabric added into the side seam) but the curve of the front is pretty important to how it sits on you. But then, it is fashionable in that era to leave quite a lot of the top portion unbuttoned, so maaaybe you could get away with it not fitting as well, depending on what changed and how much?

Regarding the adjustability of waistcoats, some of the earlier ones actually do have lacing in the back! This red one is an especially nice example, and it's separate all the way to the top.

(c. 1740's, V&A) (Though you also do see ones with the back hacked up and a bunch of ties that were likely added by Victorians for their fancy dress parties.)

The breeches also have adjustable waistbands, of course, so I think the hardest part to alter would be the coat. The back vent is edge to edge, so there's no overlap to sneak a bit more width out of, and letting out the side seams would require re-doing those massive pleats, which were the part I found the most difficult when making my coat. But fortunately those coats were worn open a lot of the time, so even if they're not quite right when buttoned, they should still look ok unbuttoned.

It's very difficult to predict how the fit will be affected, since HRT is different for everyone and things keep changing years down the line. (One comment on this post talks about suddenly getting more breast and hip growth after 7, 12, and 14 years.)

I only have experience from the transmasc side of things, and alas, I very much did outgrow all my old waistcoats and coats. My 1730's suit needs alterations, because the waistcoat is a bit too small, and the coat seams could use a bit of letting out too. (I made those the year after top surgery, but my ribcage kept expanding and my posture improving for quite a while.)

I've been putting it off because alterations are boring :/ My pre-top surgery waistcoats are all way too small across the chest even though material was removed, because my posture was kinda bad and I didn't even notice it, and I expect that the opposite could also lead to the same sort of better posture from more confidence & comfort.

But bodies keep changing forever anyways, even without transitioning. Plenty of cis people can't fit into the things they sewed when they were younger, so we may as well make things to fit us now. Perhaps you could make the suit now, but use a not-too-expensive fabric, and then maybe alter it later, or make a newer and better one with the experience you gained from the first one!

Also I know you specifically said menswear suit, but I want to add the fun fact that women's riding habits in this era looked extremely similar to men's suits!

(Left: Maria Amalia von Habsburg by Franz Joseph Winter, right: Member of the Van der Mersch Family by Cornelis Troost.)

As far as I can tell, the main differences are that the riding habits have a petticoat instead of breeches, and are made to fit over stays.

(Empress Elisabeth Christine in riding costume, unknown artist.)

So similar, in fact, that this portrait of a young lady in a riding habit was misidentified as a young man!

Most of the petticoat is out of frame, but you can still see that it's not beeches, and the stays shape is pretty obvious. Very silly of Sotheby's not to notice!

I have no idea if you're interested in wearing a riding habit, and I'm not sure how difficult it would be to alter the somewhat looser men's coat to fit over stays, but thought I ought to mention it.

[fluffyfluffyscarecrow]

Scarecrow, Two Face, Penguin, Mad Hatter, and Mr. Freeze with a Partner who Sleeps With A Plush of Them

Inspired by the Scarecrow and Two Face plushies I sewed.

Scarecrow

You had spent days hand-sewing this plush doll of Jonathan Crane, and though it wasn't perfect, you had put a lot of love into it.

The doll appeared to stare up at you with its button eyes while you held its floppy, huggable body and stroked its soft hair. It was like an exact copy of Jonathan, just smaller. And probably less likely to commit crimes.

Jonathan would be incredibly surprised to see the plush- lots of times when people made artistic interpretations of him they were meant to be terrifying. He had never seen a version of himself this...cuddly. He doesn't mind it, though. In fact, he's quite flattered.

When you tell him about how you cuddle the plush at night he practically melts.

Two Face

You made most of the plush Two Face with soft minky fabric, but decided to add something extra- faux fur on the white side of his hair and dot textured minky for his scars. He was perfect.

The first time you showed it to Harvey, he was speechless. His fingers ran across the soft fabrics you had used to capture him so lovingly, and you might have even seen a tear roll down the unscarred side of his face. Two Face is the one to break the silence, saying "you really want to cuddle me that much?"

When you admit to them you cuddle the plush at night to feel close to them, they immediately wrap you in a massive hug. You hug them back of course, making sure to kiss their scars.

Penguin

Oswald had always been insecure about his appearance, and no matter how much you tried to encourage and support him with words, hugs, everything...it always seemed as if his trauma would make him feel unworthy of you. So you got an idea. You would show him exactly how you saw him, in the form of a cuddly plushie.

You had to modify your pattern quite a bit to make it accurate, but it was worth it. The plush Penguin sat before you with its arms outstretched, just waiting to be held.

You paid extra attention to translating the parts of himself Oswald was insecure about into the plush- intricately sewn hands, a prominent beak-like nose, his cuddly, plump body, and of course his long, soft hair.

You're a bit nervous to show the plush to him as you're not sure how he'll react, so you start kind of awkwardly.

"Uh...I...I really wanted to show you how wonderful you are in my eyes and I...I adore every single part of you, so I made this..."

Oswald doesn't know what to think at first, but he's incredibly touched. He still tries to play it cool, of course.

"I mean, you could always have a life-sized version of me if you want."

Catch him off guard by kissing his nose and wrapping him in a hug.

Mad Hatter

Okay, uh.. You didn't sew this one. You just kinda found a Disney Mad Hatter plushie on Ebay or something and thought it reminded you of Jervis.

(Fun fact, I actually do have this plush and he's very soft!)

Even if you didn't sew it, Jervis freaking loves it. You want to cuddle? With him??? So badly that you got a plushie to hold when he wasn't there to comfort you????

Mr. Freeze

This man is very insecure about how he's unable to cuddle you due to his physical state, so you get an idea.

The plush was honestly kind of hard to make, with all the intricate details of his suit, but it was absolutely worth it. You even added a voice box inside so you could hear his sweet German accent whenever you wanted.

Also you added a small tuft of fluffy fabric for his hair, (ik BTAS doesn't have that but HQTAS does and I freaking love it so it's going here!)

He absolutely cries when you show it to him.

You wrap your arms around him when he does, it stings a bit but it's worth it to see him smile.

For Christmas that year you make him a Nora plushie, with magnets in her hands so she can hold hands with your Mr. Freeze plush.

You better believe he cuddles his Nora plush every day. It's not even close to having his wife back of course, but it does relieve some of the pain to get to hold her again.

[oikasugayama]

Could I ask for chuuya and dazai (separately) x fem reader where the reader wears a low skirt at work and bends down to get something and how the guys would react? Nsfw ofc

I only did Dazai because I got really carried away, oops. Have 2.3k of unedited, filthy dazai + coworker!reader smut. MDNI!!

You’ve wanted Dazai for quite a while. He’s so hot, and he’s silly, and sometimes he can be really nice and suave. The fact that his eyes linger on you heavily every time you wear a short skirt or a low-cut blouse only make you want him more because it sure seems like he might be interested in you too. You don’t talk to him a lot unfortunately given that he’s not in the office every day, and you’re Kunikida’s secretary, but sometimes he does linger by your desk and chat with you (until Kunikida runs him off), or when the whole office goes out for lunch he’ll sit at your table with you, Naomi, and Junichiro. Once when you were sitting across from each other you even swore that he had to have known that his leg was against yours, forcing your legs slightly wider apart as he slid his further and further toward the outside of the booth. Any time you looked at him while he did this, he would just quirk the corner of his lip up in a smile and turn back to the conversation. There was sexual tension between the two of you, there had to be.

One day you’d had enough of being the shocked one, you wanted to be bold to see if you could get him to break and finally invite you back to his place after work. You put on a button-up blouse that “accidentally” lost its top two buttons, your shortest skirt, a red silk thong that was definitely part of a lingerie set, and you made sure to put on some extra perfume so he’d smell it any time you got near him. Now you just needed the opportunity to get his attention. 

He was late to the office, as always. He casually walked in, hands in his pockets, a smirk on his face as usual 45 minutes after he was supposed to be there. You say nothing to him, as usual, not wanting to draw any unnecessary attention. Kunikida already gave you an uncomfortable glance-over this morning and offered to sew your buttons back on if you still had them--you couldn’t risk him looking at you and seeing the sultry look in your eye when you greeted Dazai.

He saw you, though. Dazai. His eyes locked onto yours as he took his jacket off and slung it over the back of his chair. He very obviously trailed his eyes down to your chest, and you sat up straighter and tucked a bit of hair behind your ear, watching him watch you. You weren’t backing down, and he noticed.

Maybe that’s why he declined the offer to go to lunch with the group later that afternoon. You also declined, telling a little while lie to Kunikida that you had plans with friends at a different restaurant, so you’d be leaving in a few minutes to go your own way. Kunikida is sharp, but Dazai is sneaky, and you’d never mentioned to your boss how Dazai’s eyes defile you every time you show a bit of skin. If he’d known, he wouldn’t have ever left you two alone in the office. 

A couple of minutes after everyone was gone, you got up and crossed the room to Dazai’s desk pod under the guise of putting something on Atsushi’s nearby desk. As you approached, Dazai “accidentally” swiped a pencil off the edge of his desk right into your path.

“Oops,” he said lowly. You glance at him over your shoulder and give him a half smile.

“I got it.” Normally you’d squat or crouch down to prevent anyone from seeing your butt, but that’s not the goal today. You have an objective.

You slowly bend over at the waist, reaching for the pencil with your fingertips. You can tell the exact second your panties become visible, because Dazai hisses and leans back in his chair.

“Fuck,” he sighs. Before you’ve even stood back up, his hand is on your ass, pushing the curve of it up from the bottom to make it jiggle.

“Dazai-san,” you say sweetly as you fully stand and turn toward him. You hold the pencil out toward him and he grabs it quickly, throwing it onto the desk. His hands are on your hips then, pulling your skirt up so he can feel your soft, supple skin.

“Tell me you want me,” he demands, stilling his hands but holding you in place.

“You first,” you say, reaching out to trace your fingertips along his jaw. There’s a look in his eye you’ve never seen before. A type of hunger you’ve only dreamed about him having for you.

“I’ll fuck you on this desk right now,” he swears in that low, calm voice. It makes you wet just to hear him say such a lewd thing to you.

“You can cum inside,” you coo, and that’s what does it. He stands so suddenly that his chair is knocked backwards with a loud crashing noise. His lips are on yours, kissing you hard and fast and desperate. His hands grope your ass, squeezing and massaging and using the leverage to force you against his body, to feel his hard-on though his pants.

You waste no time fumbling with the bottom of his shirt, pulling it loose from his pants. You unbuckle his belt, unzip his fly, and shove your hand inside, feeling his cock straining against his underwear. He moans against your mouth, and you let out an involuntary whine. You’ve wanted to hear that sound for so long.

“I’m surprised Kunikida left you alone with me,” Dazai mumbles, pushing you back just a little until you hit his desk and sit on it. He spreads your thighs so he can stand between them, then he starts teasing his long, deft fingers over your clothed heat. “He’s always on my ass telling me not to be inappropriate with you.”

“Oh?” you ask shakily, still trying to feel him up though he’s got you distracted now with his feather-light touches.

“Mmm,” he hums, taking his hands away from you. He pushes his pants and boxers down enough to free his cock, and you can’t help but to stare at it. You hoped it would be big, maybe even taken a few long glances at his crotch while he slept unknowingly on the breakroom couch. But it’s even bigger than you expected, and your pussy flutters with anticipation. “I think Kunikida wants to make a proper lady out of you.”

“Proper ladies don’t fuck their coworkers in the office,” you say, pulling your panties to the side. Dazai watches you and licks his lips, giving his cock a few strokes. He reaches forward, slides two of his fingers up your slit and groans.

“You’re so fucking wet.”

“I wanna fuck you so bad,” you admit, leaning back onto your hands. You both moan to some degree when his fingers slide into you.

“The feeling is mutual,” he mumbles back. He gives a few pumps, a few twists, before pulling back out and smearing your slick wetness all over the head of his cock. Then, with urgency, he lines his tip up with your pussy and teases for just a few seconds, collecting more of your natural lube so he can slide in smoothly. 

“Dazai,” you whine, squirming, trying to get closer. He says nothing as he pushes forward slowly, pulling out just a bit, then continuing in until he’s almost completely buried in you.

“Fuck,” he moans, dropping his head down. He can’t stop looking at your pussy taking his cock in. “You’re so fucking hot. God, this pussy is so tight.” You whine and moan, leaning back more until you bump into his computer.

“Get this shit out of the way,” he mumbles, annoyed, as he reaches behind you and shoves stacks of papers and his computer monitor to the side with reckless abandon until you have room to lay on his desk and pull your knees up and to the side. You’re at the perfect level now for him to start drilling you, and oh does he.

The once quiet office is filled with wet squelches and skin slapping skin as he fucks you, holding you by the hips so you can’t slide away from him. He fucks you hard and quick and dirty. He fucks you all the way to the hilt, stuffing you full and letting his balls smack against your ass. You’re so wet that it covers his cock all the way to the base and starts to make a sticky ring against his body. 

“Oh, Dazai,” you moan. “Shit-- Fuck-- oh, you’re so fucking big.” 

“Good fucking pussy,” he huffs out. He reaches up with one hand and starts palming your tit, massaging and squeezing. “I’m gonna fill you up with my cum. You’re gonna like that, huh? Gonna sit at your desk all day doing work for Kunikida with my cum in your pussy.”

“Yeah,” you whine loudly. You manage to pull another two buttons free and Dazai takes advantage, reaching inside to knead your boob and pinch your nipple, making you moan even more. “Fuck me so good, Dazai. Make me cum, please.”

“Oh, I’ll make you cum, baby, but I’m not done with you yet.”

He pulls out of you then and you whine at the loss of his thick cock buried deep in you. He leans down, pushing your shirt and bra to the side to suck on your tits. He swirls his tongue around, suckling and nipping with his teeth while his other hand tweaks your nipple and massages. After a minute he switches, giving equal attention to the other breast. You take the opportunity to run your hands through his hair, scratching at his scalp and pulling on his hair.

“They’ll be back in fifteen,” you warn him. “We don’t have a lot of time.”

“Mmm, but there’s so much fun to be had,” he sighs, resting his face in the valley between your breasts. “Do you live in the ADA dorms?”

“No, I have a roommate across town.”

“Tell them you’re staying with a friend tonight.”

He stands up and takes your hands, pulling you up too. You’re afraid he’s gonna stop here, but instead he turns you around, kisses down your neck, and then firmly pushes your shoulders down so you’re bent over his desk. Without another word he lines up with your hole again and enters you quickly. He sets a brutal pace, utilizing long, hard thrusts to make you feel the full extent of his cock. It’s so long and such a nice girth that it fills you completely, stretching your walls so nicely and thrumming against your cervix with every thrust. Once again the office is full of the sounds of skin slapping skin, your pussy squelching every time he enters you, and a steady stream of moans and curses from both of you.

“You’re gonna cum with me,” he says after a few minutes reaching around your hip to feel you up. He finds your clit in only a few seconds and rubs it frantically while still fucking you hard, trying to suddenly overwhelm your nerves to make you cum hard, and fuck does it work.

“Dazai,” you call his name loudly as a warning, whimpering and whining while pushing back against him. “I’m gonna cum, Dazai, fuck, I can’t stop--”

“--Cum,” he commands. “Cum all over this fat cock, princess.”

Your orgasm wracks your body, making your knees shake and your thighs tremble. You cum, slightly squirting, making even more juices squish out of your pussy as he fucks you through your orgasm. The pulsing of your walls as you cum squeezes Dazai’s cock so good, making him cum too, spurting ropes of his seed deep into you. He stays buried to the hilt, grinding against you, for several seconds after you’ve both worked through your orgasms. When he finally pulls back, he holds you down by your hips so he can watch cum drip out of your pussy and onto the floor. He swipes some of it onto his fingers and reaches around, holding it in front of your lips.

“Open,” he says, and you do, sticking your tongue out and taking his fingers in, sucking the cum and other fluids off his fingers. “Good girl,” he says, rubbing his other hand on your ass. After he finally pulls his fingers out of your mouth, he readjusts your panties so they cover your abused cunt.

“You’re gonna leak through your panties,” he says, finally allowing you to stand back up. “Gonna leave a damp spot on your chair by the end of the day so you have a reminder of me.”

“Good,” you say, buttoning your blouse again. “And I’d love to come over tonight, by the way. I’ll tell my roommate not to expect me until late.”

Dazai smiles and finishes tucking himself back into his pants. He also kneels down and uses a tissue to wipe the cum off the floor.

“Only a few minutes left,” he says when he stands back up. “Clean yourself up and get ready.”

“What about your desk? We really messed it up.”

“Don’t worry about it, just go sit at your desk like a good girl.” He presses a firm kiss to your lips then pats your ass so you’ll get moving. He sighs wistfully, climbs on top of his desk, and lays over it, draping himself all the way across Atsushi’s desk as well. Now the mess looks like another dramatic Dazai performance that no one even questions when they come back from lunch.

[arabellasleopardcoat]

The Seamstress (Aemond Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: Prince Aemond is your favorite client.

Warnings: Seamstress! Reader x Aemond. Smut. Mature language. Age gap, though not specified, and everyone is of age.

A/N: I was thinking about how something always felt off when writing Aemond. So, experimenting a little here.

The nerves and excitement don’t go away, even if this has to be the tenth time you are asked to do it. You feel yourself alight with pride. This is your moment.

Since you were no more than a little girl, you had always wanted to become a seamstress. You dreamed of making beautiful dresses for the noble ladies to wear, handsome gambesons and shirts for the lords. Years have passed since then, and you have become a renowned dressmaker, having fabricated gowns for Houses such as the Lannisters and the Arryns alike, but being asked to dress the royal family still thrills you.

You feel as if you were a little girl, wandering the halls of the Red Keep. It's no matter if you have done this before, you still feel the same sense of accomplishment. Besides, getting to work with your favorite client is always a joy.

The Queen has confided in you that you are also his favorite. Prince Aemond refuses to wear anything you haven't personally sewn. Your job is harder that way. You can't distribute the more menial tasks to your sewing girls, having to sew every stitch yourself. Yet, at the same time, it fills you with accomplishment when you manage to meet his expectations.

“Chin up, my Prince.” You say, softly pushing his jaw upwards. You go on your tiptoes, placing the pin on the cloth near his throat. He would look stunning in a linen shirt, with such a beautiful neck and shoulders. But alas, the prince is not one for light colors.

“How long will this take?” One of his hands, big and broad, goes to your waist. To steady you, surely. Yet, you cannot help but get distracted by the touch. It has been so long since you have been touched in such a manner. “I have to go train before noon.”

“Prince Aemond.” You warn, softly fixing the fall of the cloth. “These things take time. You can't just wear anything to the coronation.”

“I am not the one getting crowned, am I?”

You fix a button. You do not like the way the shape the outfit is giving him.

Taking a step back, you examine the clothes with a critical eye.

The pants need to be taken in. You kneel, tightening them around his waist and thighs. When your hand reaches his inner thigh, you notice that he has a bulge in his trousers. Your eyebrows raise. Unsure if it is what you think it is, you smooth the fabric around his hips.

His hand goes to your cheek. You look up, searching his face. Prince Aemond’s eye is dark, almost all pupil. He looks like he could just eat you up. His thumb brushes over your lips. As if in a trance, you open up.

You would be ashamed of reacting this way to any other man. But not with him. Not when he is as equally desperate, hungry for you.

It’s not something that's encouraged, bedding nobles. You would rather not end up with a bastard on your belly, shamed and unable to work. Your entire thing, what sets you apart from other seamstresses, is that you are a respectable woman.

But even respectable women feel desire. Even respectable women want to be worshiped and adored.

“Come here.” Prince Aemond pulls you to your feet. Then, he kisses you, hungrily. You start to take out the pins off his clothes, throwing the shirt away. The cloth gives as if it was nothing, long gone are your patterns and pins.

He lowers your bodice and hikes up your skirt. You grin. This is not new, either. It still fills you with the same thrill as it did the first day. Prince Aemond had not taken your maidenhead, nor had you taken his. But it had been you who had taught him, sitting on top of his hips and rolling your hips until you milked him dry.

There is something about teaching others about pleasure. You understand now, why men savor maidens so much. You can teach them to love and please just how you like, aim their thrust just at the angle you need to reach your own peak.

Prince Aemond kisses you hungrily, licking into your mouth as if a man starved. That, too, you taught it to him. Back then, his kisses had been all teeth, all clumsy head movements. Designed to conquer through brute force rather than seduction.

He kisses down your throat, sucking a bruise right between your collarbones. You sigh, quietly. He nips at your skin, determined to force a sound out of you. You have found out he thrives on praise and recognition, starved as he is.

He pushes harder, kissing the spot he knows makes you melt. You reward him with a soft moan. You have never been one for loud demonstrations of passion, and it shows, but it only makes more valuable to him the little sounds you let out.

You feel yourself start to get more and more wet. Your cunt throbs between your legs, slick and ready for him.

“Put it in.” You plead. “My Prince, please.”

“You are such a demanding thing, for a commoner.” He grunts, biting down at your shoulder. There is no room for complaint because he is entering you in one smooth thrust. You let out a keening sound, half pleasure, half pain. You can feel him grin sharply against your skin, face still hidden on your shoulder.

He rocks more than he thrusts, as he holds you open with one of his hands. This way, your pearl is exposed and rubs against his pelvis each time he moves.

His face remains hidden, and you feel his hair tickling against your skin. You feel the urge to nip at him as he does you, but you don't dare. He is not yours, nor are you his. Not only is it not allowed, but it would anger him. Prince Aemond, no matter how much he enjoys your body, does not think himself your equal.

He is above you, or so he says. If he likes to live in delusion, you won't be the one who stops him. It's not you, at the end of the day, who leaves these chambers looking wrecked. It's not you who melts at praise, at being told he is good.

“Like that?” Prince Aemond asks, cockily, as he watches your mouth slacking with pleasure.

“Right there.” You tilt your hips upwards, chasing your own peak. He fucks into you, mindlessly. He has a one track mind when it comes to these kinds of things. Thrives on watching you fall apart, as if it makes him more, as if it fills his pride. It's a good thing, in a lover, but you shudder to think of what this man could do only to be able to feel proud of himself.

It takes only a few well-planted thrusts before you are shivering and shaking against him, mouth open into a silent scream. He groans, pleased, coming out of his hiding place to give you a chaste kiss.

You straighten yourself. You thumb a pink, puffy nipple between your fingers and lean in, to coo right on his ear.

“You did so well.” You kiss his earlobe, softly taking it into your mouth and tugging. “So good for me.”

He trembles against you, face going back to hide on your neck. You wish he allowed you to look at him in moments like this. Prince Aemond probably looks wrecked. You can see it in your mind's eye, how his eye fell closed, how he has to bite his lip so hard to not let out a sound.

The view you get makes up for it, though. His back is arched so hard it must hurt, to make up for the height difference between the two of you. His hips snap into you so hard, you think you might end up with bruises from his damn hipbones.

Your prince has a beautiful body, honed from years of training. He is also all sharp lines and angles, hipbones, jaw, cheek. It is why you enjoy dressing him so much. His pale skin and light hair would really shine in jewel tones, but he refuses to use anything but dark.

“You are so good. No one makes me feel like you do.” You whisper, softly scratching at his scalp. You keep your touch gentle and sweet, and that seems to be his undoing. He tenses up and gives a little grunt, and soon, you can feel the telltale wetness between your legs.

You congratulate yourself on a job well done. You kiss the top of his head and start fixing your dress. On the floor, there is a mess of pins and cloth. The patterns will not be able to be salvaged, and you have another appointment in less than an hour. You need to bathe.

With no other choice but to walk out, you kiss him one last time.

“Come see me later, for the clothes.”

And he does come. But you get distracted again. He ends up going to the coronation in one of his everyday outfits. The Queen pays you regardless. She knows how difficult her son can be.