#Faux leather labels

[womenofwrestlingfashion]

Trishna Faux Leather Corset Top from Astr The Label (on sale: $62) & Hayes Vegan Leather Wide Leg Pant in Off White from Alice + Olivia (sold out)

[mabelstone]

Common Tongue

hozier x f!reader

part five of lullabies <3 | part four | masterlist

cw: 18+, oral sex, a lot of this is sex ok u should know me by now, the word 'balls', not much plot tbh

word count: 4.1k

taglist: @princezty @somethinglikero @jimihendrixpopfigure @the-imperfectgirl-blog @l1nd3n @yunonaneko xo

I woke in the delicious warmth of Andrew’s arms, his soft breaths against my neck sending a chill down my spine. I gently nuzzled into his touch, his arms autonomously holding me tighter. For the next week and a half, this was my morning routine. Also part of the morning routine was the part where I would slip out of his grip as gently as possible when I was on the verge of weeing myself.

I’d slip back into bed, entranced by the way sleep drenched breaths swam through the small parting of his lips. The way his muddy greens danced under his eyelids as he dreamt, and the way his thick lashes swept along his high cheekbones made it near impossible for me to look away.

We danced around the fine line of being lovers, friends, and fuck buddies, not even entertaining the thought of defining what we were. I knew it was all probably moving too fast considering I’d just gotten out of a relationship. Not that I really cared - Andy had a way of numbing me. Numbing the heartbreak in a way that I didn’t even have to acknowledge it. He made me feel happy and sexy and loved, if that’s what you’d call it.

Like he could feel it, he’d wake to me watching him, causing me to blush profusely and apologise. He’d either pull me in and kiss my neck and forehead, or remind me with a grin, “staring is rude, y’know,” in his deep, groggy morning voice. It was rare to catch him watching me sleep as I was the early riser of the two of us. But during the day, I’d swear I was his favourite sight. Maybe that was just wishful thinking.

This past week also consisted of numerous phone calls to Andy, all from producers begging to sign him to their labels. I was so ecstatic for him, but of course, he was overtly humble as always. After doing his research and attending a few meetings, he decided to go with Rubyworks.

“Andy!” I threw myself into his arms excitedly, squeezing him so hard, I thought he might implode. “I’m so proud of you… we have to celebrate!”

“I’dunno, baby…” he sighed, raking his hands through the back of my hair while I melted into his touch. “This all might blow up in my face yet.”

“Don’t talk rubbish!” I scolded him, peeling my face away with my arms still around him so he could see me frown. “And you deserve to be celebrated. And we have no plans for dinner. Please?”

“Because you’ve twisted my arm,” he gave in, bending down slightly to capture my lips in his. As if I had any control at this point, I autonomously kissed him back, a squeak leaving me when he effortlessly picked me up and sat me on his kitchen island.

He deepened the kiss, one of his hands squeezing my thigh, the other tangled in my hair. I sighed against him, my hands skating across his abdomen. His tongue slipped into my mouth, forcing me to swallow a grunt of his. Both of his hands now slipped up my thighs, stopping just at the crease of my hip with a firm squeeze.

“You’d better stop,” he warned, pupils blown.

“Or what?” I teased, hands now gripping his biceps. Fuck dinner. I’ll give him something better to eat.

“You’ll see later,” he promised with a kiss to my temple, sliding his hands off me. “Let’s get ready now, or it’ll be impossible to drag me out of this house.”

“Fine,” I sighed in faux disappointment, hopping off the table and dragging him behind me by his hand.

I put on my favourite dress; a flowy black number with a corset like top that did me lots of favours in the breast department. I wore some simple three inch heels, sheer black stockings, and a faux leather coat. My hair was slicked back into a wavy ponytail, complimented by some chunky gold jewellery to break up all the darks I had on. I wore Andrew's favourite perfume of mine, Jimmy Choo's Eau De Parfum. I'd always had an illustrious love for fashion, but oftentimes Joe had an issue with my style. Not Andy, though. His jaw just about hit the floor and he looked as if he were close to calling off our plans and just taking me to bed instead. Not that I would have protested... but no, tonight was about him.

He looked edible in a black button up and brown jacket, with those white converse's that were basically fused to his feet at this point. He trimmed his beard down and has doused himself in Tam Dao by Diptique, and when I say he smelt divine, I mean, I considered calling off our plans as well.

At first, we found ourselves in a cheesy karaoke bar that was walking distance from his house. We threw back a couple shots, laughing and cheering on both the good and… not so good performances. Andy always said that despite the voice he was gifted with, he hated singing karaoke. I eventually convinced him to duet Islands in the Stream with me. It was the most fun I’d ever had. He then gave his own rendition of Sex Bomb, and I hate to admit it, but it did something to me. We snacked on shitty street food as we passed through the weekend markets, enjoying our tipsy people watching.

After that, we found a dim lit bar in the west end with live music and cheap drinks for happy hour. We caught a taxi and walked hand in hand from the car to our booth. For once, I loved having everyone's eyes on us. I wanted everyone to see us together, though we weren't really together.

The combination of the sultry jazz band in the background mingling with the effects of too much alcohol too fast had me sliding my foot up his leg, getting a high from watching his eyes darken as he squirmed. He gave me a warning look, to which I innocently sipped at my drink and averted my head to the band, gently applying pressure to his crotch. I felt his hand grip my ankle, and when I thought he'd move me away, he ran his hands up my leg instead, stopping only when he reached my knee. I turned my head back to him quickly, my core growing hot at the feeling. He looked gorgeous, curls framing his face, his eyes fixed on me as if I were the most interesting thing in the room.

His stare challenged mine, almost daring me to keep going. The look in his eyes screamed, "see what will happen," and I have never been one to turn down a dare.

Drunkenly, I slid my finger around the rim of my glass, bringing the salt to my lips as I sucked my finger clean, making effort to show my tongue at first. I pushed it in far deeper than necessary, almost able to hear the way his breath hitched in his throat. His grip on my ankle tightened, and I applied a bit more pressure with my heel.

"I swear to God, I will throw you into a cab right now," his eyes were hooded and narrowed in on me. It felt like a stand off between a predator and prey, despite feeling nothing but safety in his presence.

"You wanna take me home, big boy?" I teased, relishing in the way his cheeks flushed when I used the ridiculous pet name. He loved a good double entendre. Well, triple entendre, really.

I reached across the table to grab his hands, running my thumb over his knuckles. Despite the often heated nature of our exchanges recently, I'd never felt more loved. Maybe that was the wrong word, it was too soon. I'd never felt more secure.

He abruptly got up from the booth, dragging me to the dance floor with him. I laughed wildly, the alcohol buzzing through both of our veins like a freight train. “You hate dancing!”

“I know!” He shouted back over the music, pulling me in close to him by my waist. “But you’re beautiful and you’ve been force feeding me whiskey.”

“Hardly force feeding,” I scoffed, slapping his arm playfully. We swayed to a cover of I’d Rather Go Blind by Etta James, giggling uncontrollably at how uncoordinated we both were. It didn’t matter, it felt good.

Then there was the feeling of someone bumping into me hard, followed by the cold of a drink soaking the back of my legs. I gasped, pushing myself further into Andy to get away from the feeling.

“Sorry,” the woman spoke with no sign of remorse in her tone or expression. Andy was quick to grab a handful of napkins from the table beside us, wiping me down as I blushed embarrassedly. I was sure I was hallucinating when I looked up and saw Joe smirking. Fucking loser.

“Andy,” I pulled him up by his coat from where he was wiping me down. “Let’s go.”

“It’s okay, darlin’, you can’t even tell-“

“No, Joe is here. Let’s leave, please.” I felt hot and nauseous immediately, the glint in his eye from across the room all too familiar. He was going to make me pay for leaving him.

Andrew’s expression turned unreadable, yet he still nodded and stayed close behind me as I quickly fled the bar. “You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I nodded, acutely aware of how dry my throat felt. “He’s just unpredictable, I’d rather not deal with him tonight. Or, ever for that matter.”

He just hummed in response, lacing his fingers with mine. He pulled out his phone to order us an Uber. I tried to protest, insisting that we hadn’t celebrated him enough. He shushed me with a kiss, reassuring me that tonight was wonderful and he was grateful. I leaned into his body while we waited in the cold, his arm around my shoulder as we watched the traffic pass us by.

“So you are with him?” Joe scoffed, seeming to appear out of thin air. I startled at his voice, scolding myself internally for peeling away from Andy so quickly. “And you couldn't fuckin' wait for the chance to steal her, could you?"

“We aren’t together,” I quickly interjected, ignoring the way Andy’s face faltered at my clarification. “And even if I was, we are over. It’s over. Don’t you understand?”

“I understand that you can’t keep your legs shut.”

I was taken aback by his comment, unable to think of a snarky reply as my cheeks warmed and my jaw slackened.

"That's no way to speak to a woman, show some fuckin' respect," Andrew growled, stepping closer to my ex, absolutely towering over him. Joe tried to get in his face, both of them puffing their chests out like two pigeons. It was kind of sexy. Is that horrible to say?

"Who the fuck do you think you're talking to?" Joe bit back, grabbing a fistful of Andrew's shirt.

"Stop!" I shrieked, grabbing Andrews' wrist, trying my hardest to get him away from Joe. "I want to go home."

"Home?" Joe seethed through gritted teeth, his face red as a traffic light.

Andrew shoved Joe back, sending him stumbling, barely finding his footing.

"Andy, I want to go home," my voice was fragile as I tugged on his wrist once more, his expression immediately softening when he saw tears in my eyes. He took my hand in his, leading me away as he checked to see if Joe was hanging around. Looks like the security guard saw him, thankfully.

The Uber rolled up two minutes later and I couldn't have climbed in any quicker. I was beyond grateful to be in a warm car rather than out in the cold with Joe.

"That was fuckin' scary," I huffed, throwing my head back against the headrest.

"I'm sorry," he cooed with a gentle hand threading through my hair. "I shouldn't have said anything to him."

"That was not your fault," I assured him, turning to look at those big, doe eyes that were starting to make me weak.

He gave me a half hearted smile and sat in silence for the rest of the drive. I wondered what he was thinking, but felt it was probably best to just let him feel how he needed to. When we got home, we thanked the driver and walked into Andrews house in silence.

"Are you okay?" I asked gently, standing by as he shucked his coat.

"Yeah," he sighed with a shake of his head, though it wasn't convincing in the slightest.

"Did I do something? Or, say something?" I prodded further, softly taking his hand so he'd look at me.

"Really, it's no big deal," he gave me a half hearted smile, squeezing my hand once before heading for the stairs. "I'm gonna go shower."

I watched as he walked away, wracking my brain for anything that could have happened. Surely seeing Joe didn't upset him.

Then I remembered how fast I was to reassure my ex that Andy and I weren't exclusive. Fuck. I planned out my approach in my head for a while so I didn't dig the knife in deeper.

When I made it to his room, he was in his closet with dampened curls and a towel around his waist, looking for clothes, I presume. I knocked softly to let him know I was at the door.

"Andy?"

He hummed in response, turning only his head to me.

"Is it because I said we aren't together?"

He huffed some half witted laugh, almost as if he were embarrassed.

I walked closer to him, taking his hand into mine. "Well we aren't officially together, Andy." I sighed. "But I guess we kind of are together, aren't we?"

That caught his eye.

"And," I continued, "I can't think of anyone else I'd rather be with right now." I took his face into my hands, pulling him close as I softly kissed him. His mouth was much warmer than mine and he smelt so fresh and delicious.

Each time we kissed, something deep inside of me sparked like a flint and steel. The near palpable electricity of that spark conducted its way through my lips straight to his. We found a steady rhythm that was soon forgotten, replaced by tongue and teeth, desperate for more. Without breaking contact, we staggered back onto the bed, only the cotton of his towel and the nylon of my stockings keeping our bodies separated. My hands tugged at his soft auburn curls, eliciting encouraging hymns of appraisal that I wished I could devour. His hands dug into my hips harder than he ever had. Not hard enough to hurt me, but hard enough to let me know he wanted me just as bad as I did him.

I moved my mouth to his neck, sucking at his delicate skin, feeling his pulse against my lips. He shuddered and gasped, desperately trying to grind my body against his. The sinful noises he made only made me crave him more, only made me yearn for his beautiful rhapsodies. To hear them alone, without the deafening ring of my own pleasure in my ears, to hear them without my own pants and sighs overwhelming his. Just him, all of him.

"Andy, I really want to suck your cock," I blurted, pulling away to look at him through drooped eyelids. "May I please?"

"Good manners," he joked, his eyes even more lidded than my own. "Of course, baby." He pulled me in for another kiss, his tongue gliding against mine as I let a hand trail down his stomach and underneath his towel. I felt him twitch in my hand as I started to stroke him, his groans reverberating in my mouth.

I had never wanted to knob somebody off so bad. I always hated it with whoever else I was sleeping with. There was something about Andy. He was such a giver that it felt wrong not to give him something back. Like I'd be missing out on a sacred experience if I didn't do it right now. There was no part of me that didn't get pleasure out of pleasuring him.

I pulled my lips from his, sliding down between his legs. I kissed from his jaw to his collarbones, to his chest and then his stomach, watching goosebumps form along his creamy skin, his calloused hands skating along my forearms.

I finally freed him from the towel, watching his cock jump against his happy trail. I took him into my hand, pumping his length a few times to see his facial expression change. My God, was it the most divine sight. Unable to hold off any longer, I licked a flat stripe over his tip, his precum dancing on my tongue.

"Fuck," he practically gasped, gently grabbing the back of my head.

I slowly wrapped my lips around his tip using one of my hands to guide him into my mouth. Without taking his eyes off me, he reached behind his head for a pillow, staring at me like he might die if he looked away. I didn't dare take my eyes off his.

I slowly took more of him into my mouth, swirling my tongue around him as I did so. He grabbed a fistful of my hair, borrowing a whimper from my mouth working around him. I pulled off briefly to blink up at him, "tell me how you like it, please."

He whimpered some response, nodding desperately. I put my mouth on him again, looking up for further instruction.

"Stick your tongue out a little," he breathed, the faintest of smiles on his face. "Good, now start movin', baby."

I nodded best I could with my mouth full, bobbing my head at a steady rhythm. I looked up at him through my lashes, my stomach flipping at the sight before me.

"Gooood girl," he praised me, freeing one of his hands from my hair to brush his thumb over my cheek. "Can you go a little faster, angel?"

I hummed in agreement, moving my head along his length faster, keeping my tongue out along the base the way he liked, making sure to hollow my cheeks the best I could. Not that there was much room for that. I moved one hand to steady myself against his thigh, the other slipping down to massage his balls.

"Jesus Christ," he moaned, throwing his head back. "Yeah, that's it. Just like that." My stomach flipped, my core on the verge of boiling over. I swear I could get off on the sight and sounds of him alone.

I took him as deep as I could, fighting off the urge to gag as he repeatedly hit the back of my throat. My jaw was aching and tears were threatening to fall from my eyes, but I was determined. I could tell he was close by the unsteady rhythm of his breathing.

He gave my hair a firm tug, a warning, almost as if to give me the option to pull off. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum if you keep going."

I hummed in acknowledgement, no shred of intention to stop in my body.

"Where, baby?" He breathed, the muscles in his stomach beginning to tense. I traced a few shapes with my tongue as a form of communication, my way of showing him where, looking up at him. "Christ, Y/N," he groaned, spilling hot ribbons onto my tongue, his hips stuttering beneath me. I kept my mouth on him as he rode out his high, his face contorted in ecstasy, brows furrowed, mouth agape as his euphonious appraisals slipped from it.

I pulled off, my lips swollen and red, mascara no doubt running down my cheeks, and now uncomfortably horny.

Like he could read my mind, he sat up pulled me into his lap, now kissing my neck. His beard scratched across my collarbones in the most tantalising way, his hands working quickly to unzip my dress. He did so with ease, slipping the material off my shoulders where it pooled in our laps.

"You are perfect," he sighed against my skin, kissing me hard as he palmed one of my breasts. I whimpered against him, my hands in his hair as he buried his face in my chest. One of his hands cradled the bottom of my skull, the other guiding my breast to his mouth as he flicked his tongue across my nipple.

"Andy," I whined, pure need unmistakable in my tone. "Mmh, need you, baby."

He flipped me onto my back without warning, sliding down the bed between my thighs. His eyes were hungry, almost primal. Despite his release only moments prior, he had determination written all over his face as he buried his face between my thighs, pressing wet, open mouthed kisses through my stockings. "Please, I need you now. Please, please," my voice was whinier than I'd ever heard it, so much so I almost didn't recognise it.

My dress was still bunched around my waist, but he didn't seem too inconvenienced. My stockings, however, had no chance of surviving this one. In one fluid movement, he ripped through the crotch of my stockings, tearing them thigh to thigh. I gasped, my stomach flipping at the gesture. He pulled my knickers to the side, sliding his tongue over my clit without warning. Instantly, my back was arching autonomously, my head already thrown back against the mattress.

His tongue flitted against me with expert precision, switching between sucking and licking. "Tell me how you like it," he spoke against me, the vibrations from his voice combined with his soft lips against the most sensitive part of my body making my head go fuzzy. I couldn't even respond, only able to fumble around for his hand.

He slipped two fingers in with ease and I nearly screamed in pleasure. Lewd, wet noises filled the room, my whines and moans somehow even louder than the physical proof of my arousal. His deft fingers worked me to the fastest orgasm known to man, hitting my g-spot with each thrust, his tongue signing love letters onto my clit.

I chanted his name like a mantra, desperately clinging to the bedsheets beneath me as I completely lost myself under his touch. The most incredible feeling ever ripped through my every nerve ending, every fibre, every atom of my being. I shook uncontrollably beneath him, toes curled, eyes screwed shut as I made noises nobody else had ever torn from me. This must be what heaven feels like.

I finally came back down to Earth, panting like I'd ran a marathon. Andy wiped his mouth on the towel, the most satisfied grin I'd ever seen plastered to his face.

"Andy, I-" I stammered, genuinely lost for words as I laid my head on his chest. "I owe you the world. What do you want? Whatever it is, it's yours."

"Are you kiddin' me?" He laughed exasperatedly, kissing my forehead. "I should be givin' you the world. That was the closest to a religious experience I've ever had."

"You'd better write a song about this," I half joked, shimmying my dress off finally.

"Way ahead of ya', darlin'," he sighed in content. "I need to do that more."

"You ruined my stockings, Andy," I sighed in faux disappointment, "but that might have been the sexiest thing I've ever seen."

Then he was back to his shy self, a bashful grin on his face that he covered with his arm, leaving my heart to soar within my chest.

Fuck. I was catching proper feelings. Like... proper. Like, L-Word feelings. The realisation hit me like a tonne of bricks. Andy was to go and record some songs next week. What if he didn't feel the same? What if he got really famous and left me behind? Was I just sex? Was he just a rebound? It all has really moved fast, I shouldn't be getting attached...

"I'm gonna shower," I smiled politely, excusing myself before he had a chance to say anything.

A million thoughts raced through my mind at once. Was I trying to sabotage this for myself? It felt nice to be clean, a nice reset. The water defrosted me, made me feel centred again. I dried off and slipped into one of his hoodies.

"I need to tell you something," I blurted, unable to stop the words from coming out as I walked back into his room.

i did some googling and there might be some confusion (or maybe not, but just in case) when i say stockings i mean toe to hip tights/hosiery. i'm australian lol i apologise if some things don't make sense... i don't like the word hosiery ok

[frederickkittens]

Sweet Lolita through the years

Part 1: Late 90s-2005 (ish) “Oldschool”

Oldschool sweet is the first truly recognizable form of sweet Lolita

Though during the Oldschool era the substyles had far more crossover and less individual traits I think there’s just enough that you still label coords from the time. When most people think of Oldschool they think of a solid color main piece with lace topped otks and a rectangle headdress… but Oldschool is so much more than that.

Oldschool in general was simpler, though some brands like Metamorphose Temps De Fille , Emily Temple Cute, and baby the stars shine bright were already making prints

Printed fabrics of fruits or florals were very common, but you did see a good amount of screen printed and appliquéd pieces coming out at the time too. Some very common sweet motifs in the oldschool era were:

•cats

•fruit

•alice in wonderland

•bunnies / rabbits

•bears

•alphabet / letter prints

•music notes

•hearts

The closer to the end of the identifiable oldschool era the more prints became popular! Though through most of the 2000’s prints would remain more minimal with the focus being on more structural elements like lace, bows, construction, and interesting fabric choices.

Due to the image limit on tumblr here’s a link to the correct sorting to see examples on lolibrary with examples of some early sweet prints and patterns. If you click the link on any of these items you’ll be able to view their lolibrary entries as well if available

Color balance wasn’t considered as highly as it is today, the overall vibe of Coords was more chaotic and experimental. A very make do attitude can be seen in many street snaps.

Patterned main pieces were another popular alternative to prints, things like gingham, stripes, tartan/plaid.

Bag choices were pretty varied, honestly in a lot of oldschool sweet coords people would use unique bags as the visual interest / focal point. You can already see that in someone of the coords above. Faux leather shaped bags like btssb’s heart bags weren’t very popular yet. A few brands had put out heart bags, such as milk, but they were much simpler and often real leather in limited colors. You also didn’t see usakumyas in their modern iteration until well into the 2000’s towards the 2010’s. Plush bags of the era did not have the same clean marketable look. Some common / popular bags were:

-basket / wicker purses

-plush animal bags

-tote bags

-matching fabric bags

-leather handbags

-designer handbags

Shoes at the time were much chunkier and much less cutesy even in sweet styles. Tea parties didn’t exist until a good deal past this time period- honestly most popular modern Lolita shoe styles weren’t really seen. Real leather was far more common, in a much more limited pallet. When you did see colored shoes they typically weren’t used to color balance a coord like we do now a days. A lot of different styles were worn though, including:

-Mary Jane’s

-Platforms

-Rocking horse shoes

-Boots

-Oxfords

-sandals

Socks are often overlooked in oldschool. I’ve seen so many people say printed socks weren’t worn even though they absolutely were and many brands made them. Sure, lace topped otks were the trend and the most popular option but simple motif printed socks absolutely existed and were worn!

Headpieces were one of the most varied category. So many different styles and kinds were worn.

-mini crowns

-hair ribbons

-hats

-bows

-canotiers

-mini hats

-lace headdresses

Jewelry / Accessories were one area that Oldschool definitely was simpler. However brands were absolutely making both jewelry and other accessories. Plain metal necklaces with various motifs were common, lace chokers, faux collars, capes, ties, and though extremely uncommon you do sometimes run across wrist cuffs. Hopefully there’s more of an effort to start documenting jewelry and accessories from this time since it’s quite lacking

Makeup and hair were something that like all eras of Lolita followed the over all cultural trends of the time. More minimal make or simple 90’s - early 2000’s makeup is seen often. As for hair there’s so many different styles that really it would be impossible to list them all. In older magazines there’s often sections with hair tutorials and makeup tutorials!

Common lace styles included Torchon, Cotton, Eyelet, and Raschel. Many different trims and such were used in addition to these.

Part 2 and part 3

Scan credits @obscuredesireofbourgeoisie

If you want to see more old magazine scans

Lolita history

Internet archive

[harrietvane]

Big Ladyhawke news this week:

2 key costumes are included in a Propstore auction beginning 14 November 2024, in London. Both come from the archives of Italian costume company Costumi d'Arte. The company have also contributed costumes from the Taylor/Burton Cleopatra and The Good, the Bad & the Ugly to the same auction, as well as some from First Knight which are also by Ladyhawke costume designer Nanà Cecchi.

The Navarre costume comprises a helmet, a hood, a doublet, a tunic, a cape and a pair of trousers. The helmet has a metal visor which is fixed in position by a screw. It is made of fibreglass, with a wooden lining, on which "63" is handwritten in black marker pen. Attached to the wood is a faux leather inner lining that is adjustable by string.The doublet, tunic, cape, hood and trousers are all made of cotton. The doublet is sleeveless with stylish leather armhole rims, a mandarin collar and faux leather fastening straps with metal buckles. The tunic is fastened by a vertical Velcro strip and a cross lace. Boots are not included in the lot. Estimate: £5,000 - £10,000

The Isabeau costume is from the final showdown scene - the lilac-coloured dress comprises an outer layer of chiffon and an inner layer of satin, and has slightly ribbed sleeves. A Peruzzi costume label is stitched into its interior. Estimate: £5,000 - £10,000

[fandoms--fluff]

Hellooooooo sorry to bother you but I have to request one of Hayley Marshall we’re she is pregnant with a second child with Klaus and Hope is so happy to be a big sister and don’t leave her mother said

A Second Miracle

Baby sister reader x Hope Mikaelson (plus Hayley + Klaus)

Warnings: nothing, just pure fluff

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hayley and Klaus are sat on the couch, Hope on her dad's lap. "Momma's having a baby?" Hope has a smile on her face. Her parents had just told her how she's going to be a big sister.

"Mhm, in four months" Hayley grinned, showing Hope the baby bump that she's been hiding from her and all her aunts and uncles.

Ever since her parents gave her the news of the pregnancy, Hope's been with Hayley.

Hope's cuddling against Hayley's side, her head resting against her chest. "Is it a girl?" She asks, wide curious eyes looking up at the hybrid.

"We don't know yet, but we will soon" Hayley smiles, placing a kiss on the six year old's forehead.

"You better be a girl" Hope bends her head down to Hayley's bump and whispers.

Hayley smiles, shaking her head, being able to hear what she was saying. She wraps an arm around her daughter, cuddling her.

Hope holds her Daddy's hand as they walk out of the bakery. They walked to the bakery that's 5 minutes away from the abboiter, getting a box of beignets.

When they get back home, they walk into the library where Hayley is seated on the dark leather couch. Her right hand resting on her large 9 month bump as her other hand is holding her book up.

Hope immediately let's go of Klaus' hand and runs over to her mommy. She climbs onto the couch and gives Hayley a cuddle. Hayley puts her book down, hugging the six year old back.

"Hey baby girl, what have you two been up to?" She smiles, having noticed that there weren't interruptions from her book by either the excited daughter or overbearing and protective father.

"We thought you might want something sweet. Considering the grumbling you were giving the pantry" Klaus smirks at the he receives from Hayley for the last statement.

He walks over, opening the box to Hayley. She grabs one of the beignets for herself and passes one to Hope. "Thank you. And I'm going to pretend you didn't already have loads of sugar with your father" Hayley sends a pointed look to the two other people in the room.

Hope giggles as she bites into hers, meanwhile Klaus has a faux offended look on his face.

Hayley smirks before biting into her own beignet, moaning at how good actual sugar tastes. Ever since Elijah went shopping for food, all she's seen have had the word healthy on the label or something around those lines.

Hope smiles, used to her mommy and daddy bickering. She leans against the baby bump. She can't wait till she has someone else to endure these times with and to play with. Uncle Kol, Auntie Freya, and her can teach her little sister how to make flowers bloom, and how much fun it is to be a witch.

She doesn't care if everyone keeps telling her there's a chance it can be a boy. She knows it's going to be a girl, she's going to have a little sister!

Hayley sits on her and Klaus' bed, you in her arms.

In good news, there wasn't any horrible birth where she died, and was in immense pain. It went a lot smoother this time around. Even if getting pregnant wasn't planned...again.

Hope crawls onto the bed, a bright smile on her face. She knew she was going to be getting a baby sister.

"Y/n" she whispered, kissing your forehead gently.

"Mhm, that's right. You're officially a big sister, baby girl" Hayley kisses Hope's forehead. She snuggles into her Momma's side, finger curling around your tiny hand. She watches as your small hand wraps around it. Her smiles grows bigger than before.

[shiftythrifting]

Someone got over their Rae Dunn phase

Yes, that fuzzy white spot is mold inside the globe

Carousel polar bear that I wanted but have absolutely nowhere to put

Pepsi branded napkin dispenser

Labeled soup mugs, in case you forget what you put in it? I guess?

One of these cursed ornaments from a particular shop I used to work at. I kind of wish I'd bought it just because I miss that place, but the whole "faceless head with limbs" this is too weird

Found at Goodwill in Brattleboro, VT

Bonus:

A nice faux leather disk bound notebook with a build in pen holder and a real leather wallet with a pin card that I *did* buy, and am very happy with!

[haeigoo]

Found You (ZCL)

ღ pairing: idol!chenle x fem!reader (ft. jaehyun & jisung)

ღ description: based off a funny chenji incident

ღ word count: 1,562

ღ genre: established relationship, SLIGHT angst & fluff

ღ warnings: kissing, suggestive, swearing

ღ playlist: perfume by nct dojaejung, plot twist by niki, ours by taylor swift & when i met you by apo hiking society

ღ author's note: this is my first official fic that i wrote in years. and its all thanks to my love @lowkeyjaemle for being a huge help in the making of this au, go read her works HERE!

DON'T LIKE? DON'T READ!

You have been dating Chenle for seven months now and it is no surprise to you that your anniversary happens to fall on the same day as their third group comeback, ‘ISTJ.’ Both their managers and fans have not been so forgiving of you ever since your relationship came into fruition. Several complaints made their way to the company of Chenle allegedly taking sick days and leaving rehearsals early to be with you. It got worse when stolen photos of the two of you circulated online like wildfire on the day that he chose to ditch schedules. After New Years’ Day, the management released a statement about enforcing restrictions of all artists under the label from engaging with individuals outside professional relationships to avoid further mishaps that may hinder the flow of the business. This gut-wrenching news isolated you both but you knew exactly what you were getting into when you decided to join him in the public eye.

When the morning of your anniversary came, you were already used to waking up to cold mornings without Chenle. He trusted you enough to look after Daegal while he is at work but not even her presence could cheer you up. You only got to communicate with him through calls and last night, he had reassured you that his group was finishing up. Chenle was staring close through the screen, grinning while he reiterates how much he misses you. You let out a huge sigh before puckering your lips together to say goodbye as you ended the call.

You got up from the master bed and shimmied yourself up to look nice today. As you were showering, something at the back of your mind was eating out at you – How will this be any different from the last? What if I’m just another lost cause?

When you reached over to your closet, you saw the lustrous baby blue Sunday dress that you have been saving up to wear for weeks as it paired neatly with your black combat boots and faux leather handbag that Chenle got you last Christmas. You rushed downstairs to leave the house when suddenly your phone vibrated. It was a text from Chenle, he will unfortunately be working late tonight to make adjustments for the shoot. For a moment, you stood there frozen and stiff as your face dropped and your left hand made a fist. This always happens, you told yourself.

You caught yourself falling into the depths of despair since today was clearly a special occasion. You immediately locked the door behind you and walked outside with a stain in your heart. The cool breeze brushed through the locks of your hair, in the hopes of soothing your troubled soul when you spotted a perfume shop just around the corner. You were greeted by a variety of scents as you gracefully walked through the door of this well-lit establishment. After countless browsing, a Myrrh & Tonka cologne from Jo Malone caught your eye and took a few puffs from the sample available.

You were not notorious for using fragrances and Chenle knew that best. But the thought of wrapping yourself in a fresh bouquet of aromas unfamiliar to Chenle would surely have him by surprise. You picked up a piece and headed towards the cashier whose smile was glistening through the room.

          “You find everything to your liking?” Jaehyun asked softly.

          “Yup!” You nodded.

          “You know, a whiff of this sensational notes of almond and vanilla will have anyone under your spell. May I ask, who’s the lucky man?”

          “Zhong Chenle. You couldn’t miss even if you tried, Jaehyun.”

          “Right. Well, tell him I said hi!” He chuckled as you bid you farewell.

You left the store feeling accomplished when you gazed upon the vast, hazy sky around you and knew by then, it was already sundown. You had called a taxi and dashed through the car door to hopefully catch Chenle still at the building. The driver had dropped you off just outside when you felt a shiver down your spine.

You took a deep breath as you stepped through the main entrance when your phone started buzzing, an incoming call from Chenle. You shook off your nerves and ignored the needy hollers of your boyfriend. You exited from the elevator and sprinted towards the practice room to find the lawless space empty with plastic bottles and chips scattered messily around the floor. After some time passed, you caught a glimpse of his tumbler across from you and that was the information you needed.

You went to check on the bathroom only to see from your peripheral, a drowsy Chenle with his head buried in his knees. You crouched down as you elevated his face to meet yours when you realized how droopy his eyes were from today’s schedule.

          “I’m here, baby.” You exclaimed as you rubbed sweat off his forehead.

          “(Y/N)? I’ve been worried sick. You didn’t answer me all day! What’s going with you?” Chenle blurted out.

          “Chenle, this whole fiasco got to me! Being away from you was torture itself. So, I came by to surprise you.”

          “Baby, having you in my life was the biggest plot twist I could ever ask for. I would replay the very first moment my heart belonged to you.”

          “Have you been drinking? I’ve never heard those words before especially coming from you. Well, you better get up before anyone sees you like this!”

When you tapped his shoulders signaling him to stand up, he swiftly grabbed your wrist in lightning speed and dragged you to one of the stalls. Chenle abruptly shuts the door behind him which made a loud thud as he is brimming with excitement. He sits on the toilet seat and spreads his legs like a king on the throne while checking you from top to bottom. Clicking his tongue and smacking his thigh, encouraging you to delicately plop yourself onto him. Chenle had that smug expression wearing nothing but his black sweatpants, GSW T-shirt and white rubber shoes.

          “Chenle, you’ll get your ass beat if your manager storms in on us!” You said incredulously.

          “Baby girl, they’re never gonna find out because I know how to shut that beautiful mouth of yours.” Chenle remarked confidently with a smirk.

          “This is serious, dude. I’m not taking my clothes off, you maniac!”

          “Ugh, you’re no fun. Just sit on my lap. I need you close, baby.”

You diligently abide by his request and the next thing you know, Chenle’s hands are in between your thighs which makes you quiver. You promptly frowned at him, refusing to let him near you when all of a sudden, he took one hand away to cup your cheeks and pulled you in a deep, passionate yet sloppy kiss. The hand then travelled down your neck where he tightens his grip, making you scoff out a little cough. The moment you parted with his lips to catch your breath you throw your head back as you were holding onto his shoulders for support when he took notice of your scent.

          “Baby, you smell so fucking good. What’d you put on?”

          “Jo Malone perfume I bought from Jaehyun. I’ll explain later. You’ve a lot of catching up to do, mister.”

          “Whatever you say, princess.” Chenle uttered under his breath as he flashed his signature crescent moon smile.

The further your bodies were intertwined, the more he got captivated by your scent. You completely lost yourself under your boyfriend’s touch when you hear footsteps outside the stall. Stomping loudly towards your direction, your eyes widen and hid your face onto his chest. When you hear the twist of the knob turn, you had already hoped it was his manager to usher you out of this hellhole. Instead, you glanced up to see a tall man hovering the both of you with a confused look plastered on his face. It was Park Jisung, all dressed in black ever so handsomely.

          “Sorry, I didn’t know this was occupied. Hi (Y/N)! It’s been so long.” Jisung said as he scratches the back of his scalp.

          “Hey, it was a surprise for this guy!” You stated as you tilt your head.

          “Excuse me! Jisung, do you mind?” Chenle vocalized, motioning his hands together in a brisk fashion because he was already vexed at his best friend for walking in on you two.

          “Yeah, I’m leaving. Bye (Y/N), it was really nice seeing you again!” Jisung responded with a playful wink as he closed the door.

You could sense Chenle fuming behind you, arguably pissed off from Jisung’s remark as you played along. Chenle’s cheeks had never gotten this red before, you could spot his furrowed brows and face flushed when you turned around to see him pouting his lips. This was one of the few times you ever saw your boyfriend sulky and admittedly enough, you found it cute.

          “Aww, why the long face?” You said teasingly, pinching his plum cheeks.

          “Because you seem to like Jisung more than me.” Chenle muttered defeatedly, shifting his gaze and not meeting yours.

          “When we locked eyes for the first time, my heart knew what I needed and it was you. In a million timelines, I’d choose you. Chenle, you’re my north star.” You lovingly affirmed his tense face as you leaned closer and planted one last kiss.

[irish-dress-history]

Photos of 16th-17th century Irish clothing

Extant garments in the National Museum of Ireland

Notes: The garments in this post are all bog finds which means their current color may not be their original color. Although some of these items were found with human remains, no photos of human remains are included in this post.

Killery Cóta Mór (great coat) and brogues:

photos by hayling billy used under non-commercial, share alike license

The Killery outfit comes from an adult male bog body found in Killerry parish, Co. Sligo in 1824. It includes a cóta mór, triús, a brat, and shoes which are on display in the museum, and a sheepskin biorraid (conical hat) which fell apart shortly after it was found (Briggs and Turner 1986).

Killery triús (trews):

photo by hayling billy

Killery outfit with and without brat:

The outfit is generally dated to the 17th c. (Dunlevy 1989). It matches Luke Gernon's 1620 description of Irish men's winter apparel:

"in winter he weares a frise cote. The trowse is along stocke of frise, close to his thighes, and drawne on almost to his waste, but very scant, and the pryde of it is, to weare it so in suspence, that the beholder may still suspecte it to be falling from his arse. It is cutt with a pouche before, which is drawne together with a string."

Additional photos of the outfit: cóta front, hem, buttons, and brat.

Shinrone gown:

photo by hayling billy

The Shinrone gown was found in a bog in 1843 in Co. Tipperary near Shinrone, Co. Offaly. Unlike the Killery outfit, there were no human remains or other items found with it (Briggs and Turner 1986). The ends of the sleeves and possibly also the bottom of the skirt are missing. The sleeves would have had wrist cuffs or ties that allowed them to be fastened around the wearer's wrists. It probably also had loops or rings along the U-shaped center-front opening for lacing. It is typically dated late 16th-early 17th c, based on its similarity to a circa 1575 illustration by Lucas DeHeere and to the dresses described by Luke Gernon in 1620 (Dunlevy 1989, McGann 2000). It could be older however, because Laurent Vital described dresses with this type of sleeve in 1518.

Copyrighted, better quality photos: left front, right front, back Additional details: side-front, front waistline

Tipperary Cóta Mór:

photos from Dunlevy 1989 and hayling billy

Another Cóta Mór. This one is from Co. Tipperary, exact find spot and date unknown. Like the Shinrone gown, it was not found with human remains or other items (Ó Floinn 1995). It is probably also from the 17th century (Dunlevy 1989).

Additional photos: front, side, front buttons, front detail, side

Brat and hats:

photo by hayling billy

I haven't been able to find any clear photos of the label on this display, but based on the excellent condition and the presence of the leather tie, I think this is the Meenybradden woman's brat.

Closeup of the tie:

The Meenybradden woman is a bog body found in Meenybradden bog, Co. Donegal in 1978. The brat was wrapped around her as a shroud and secured with the leather tie (Delaney and Ó Floinn 1995). No other garments or artifacts were found with her, although she may have been wearing a linen garment such as a léine when she was buried. Linen tends to not survive in bogs. The Meenybradden woman has a calibrated radiocarbon date of AD 1130-1310, but some archaeologist have suggested humic contamination from the peat may be throwing off the dating. Her brat is identical in cut to others from the 16th-17th centuries (Delaney and Ó Floinn 1995).

Meenybradden brat laid flat. (photo from Delaney and Ó Floinn 1995)

Wool hats:

Hats from Boolabaun, Co. Tipperary made of wool felt which has been cut and sewn to form the shape. They have togs of unspun wool worked into them giving them the appearance of faux fur. Dunlevy suggests a 15th-16th c date for them (Dunlevy 1989, McClintock 1943).

Wool cloak:

photo by hayling billy

The museum label says it's from Glenmalin bog, Malinmore, Co. Donegal, but I think this may be a mistake. According to Ó Floinn (1995), the artifact with accession number 1946:416 from Malinmore, Co. Donegal is a bale of linen. Ó Floinn's table also gives accession number 1946:416* for a group of clothing from Owenduff, Co. Mayo which includes a gown, a jacket, and a cloak. If the cloak in the photo is actually the one from Owenduff, it is probably from the 17th c (Dunlevy 1989). Alternatively, someone might have misidentified a wool cloak as a bale of linen. The museum label dates this as late Medieval to post-Medieval.

*Either Ó Floinn made a typo or this is a mistake in the museum records. Museums are not supposed to give the same accession number to 2 different artifacts. In the NMI's defense, 1946 was probably a messy year for everyone.

Bibliography:

Briggs, C. S. and Turner, R. C. (1986). Appendix: a gazetteer of bog burials from Britain and Ireland. In I. Stead, J. B. Bourke and D. Brothwell (eds) Lindow Man: the Body in the Bog (p. 181–95). British Museum Publications Ltd.

Delaney, M. and Ó Floinn, R. (1995). A Bog Body from Meenybradden Bog, County Donegal, Ireland. In R. C. Turner and R. G. Scaife (eds) Bog Bodies: New Discoveries and New Perspectives (p. 123–32). British Museum Press.

Dunlevy, Mairead (1989). Dress in Ireland. B. T. Batsford LTD, London.

Gernon, Luke (1620). A Discourse of Ireland. https://celt.ucc.ie/published/E620001/

McClintock, H. F. (1943). Old Irish and Highland Dress. Dundalgan Press, Dundalk.

McGann, K. (2000). What the Irish Wore/The Shinrone Gown — An Irish Dress from the Elizabethan Age. Reconstructing History. http://web.archive.org/web/20080217032749/http:/www.reconstructinghistory.com/irish/shinrone.html

O’Floinn, R. (1995). Recent research into Irish bog bodies. In R. C. Turner and R. G. Scaife (eds) Bog Bodies: New Discoveries and New Perspectives (p. 137–45). British Museum Press.

Vital, Laurent (1518). Archduke Ferdinand's visit to Kinsale in Ireland, an extract from Le Premier Voyage de Charles-Quint en Espagne, de 1517 à 1518. translated by Dorothy Convery and edited by me. https://irish-dress-history.tumblr.com/post/721163132699131904/laurent-vitals-1518-description-of-ireland

[ms-nesbit]

Empire records (jason todd x reader)

Rating: 18+ (minors, fuck off)

Warnings: masturbation, reader is female, reader is bisexual, Jason Todd is not red hood, plus size reader

Summary: Jason is a cam model and is killing it, so he heads to the record store where he sees y/n.

Notes: honestly, i loved the idea of this one. Let me know if you want me to continue with an additional chapter or something.

ao3

“God…” Jason exhaled, a slow flow of cum spurting from his cock and onto his hand. Breathing labored as he came down from his orgasm, Jason revealed the mess he made to the webcam. “Fuck, that’s so much cum.” he spoke half-heartedly, the tone masked by faux sensuality and confidence. “What do you want me to do next, hmm?” he sat up in his computer chair and bit on his bottom lip. “Let me know, Babe. I’ll be here again next week. Till next time.” Jason ran his fingers through his hair, his tricep exposed to the camera. He flashed his signature winked before ending the livestream, shutting off the comment section and logging off from his administrative account.

Wiping his hand clean on a nearby napkin, he remained silent, his presiding persona crumbling with each minute after the stream ended. Jason hadn’t bothered to glance at the comments - only the tips, which he gratefully appreciated; they accounted for his rent and utilities, above other expenses, including the impromptu trip to Vanity Records he was getting ready to make.

After a quick shower (graphic details spared) and his skincare routine consisting of serum and spf moisturizer, Jason adorned his already-attractive figure with dark washed jeans and a simple black tee, which was layered by his black and red-striped leather biking jacket.

Once he tied his boots, he set out the door to the record store, walking to the parking lot - riding helmet in tow - to his motorcycle.

—

“I’ve told you how many times that we don’t carry that bullshit?” y/n spat into the landline phone, wrapping her cord around her finger. “Seriously, Joe, I don’t give a rat’s ass that your old town carried Tom Petty. We don’t do campy bullshit. Got it?” Before she gave the voice on the other end to even respond, she abruptly hung up, rolling her eyes and wiggling her finger free from the twisted cord.

She crossed her arms and sat back in her velvet mustard lounger behind the register, pulling an inventory sheet from the cluster of papers scattered on the surface. Clanging of bells attached to the entrance door temporarily distracted her enough to drone, “Vanity Records: if we don’t have it, your music taste sucks.”

“Well, I hope it doesn’t. Do you have Foo Fighters?”

The voice was sardonic, but it didn’t stop y/n from giving a judgemental look to… a tall man whose black tee matched his (mostly) black hair, the white patch in the front pairing fondly with the low white collar on his leather jacket. He awaited her answer with playful eyes, though they seemed heavy. “If you’re talking about Nirvana, yes.” y/n began, crossing her arms in front of the keyhole cutout on the chest of her long-sleeved black blouse, which was coupled by black and red plaid pants, and a scowl on her face. “If you’re talking about the Louise Post-worshipping Foo Fighters? Also yes.” she stood from her seat and leaned over the clutter of paperwork, ignoring it completely in an attempt to flirt with the handsome stranger. “But if you’re talking about the mock-punk, dads-in-a-cluttered-garage-with-a-pipe-dream Foo Fighters? We don’t carry it.”

The man smiled down at her. “Could you show me?” he tilted his head ever-so-slightly, as if he wasn’t a regular customer already.

With a click of her tongue, y/n left her station, showing the man to a collection of vinyl organized alphabetically. She scanned at the waves of albums, distraught by the poor penmanship of the poor schmuck who had a stroke labeling the aisles, but made her way to the ‘dad rock’ section, reaching over and thumbing through different albums behind a poorly-enunciated letter ‘F’. In between all this, she failed to notice the man - who had been walking behind her - ingesting her outfit, and how the blouse accentuated her.

“Ah! Here we go.” She pulled out a plastic-slipped album titled The Colour and the Shape, and handed it over to the man, who grinned at her. “Anything else?”

Biting the inside of his cheek to prevent him from commenting anything creepy, he chose safer words instead. “Is there anything you recommend? I’m kinda new here, and I don’t really know what to listen to.”

Y/n pondered for a moment, before asking a series of questions: “What do you like to do on a Saturday afternoon? What’s your favorite comfort food? Do you have any siblings? And…fight or flight?”

The man was taken aback by the questions, confused by the randomness of the inquiries. As he thought carefully about his answers, he zoned out, unaware of the chewing of his lip that allowed a dimple to present itself to y/n. If she wasn’t committed to her shrewd demeanor, she would have swooned. “If it’s sunny, I like to watch tv, but if it’s raining, I’ll read and take a walk; I fucking love an unhealthy amount of baklava, but I will settle for eclairs if necessary;” the man began rambling, passion strong in his voice, “I do have adopted siblings, but no blood relatives that are living, and; I suppose fight. I don’t really know when to quit.” the man smiled embarrassingly at his own confession.

Responding with a hum of affirmation, y/n skimmed over the vast selection in the compact shop. She then briskly walked to a middle aisle, dusty tile floor scuffed by her combat boots, before stopping at an unmarked section, fingering through the untouched vinyl. She pulled one out and whipped around, presenting the album cover to the man on the other end of the crates. “Human Bloom. They are fusion jazz from Chicago, but have a nice tone to it. I would give them a try if I were you.” she handed the man the record. “Need anything else…?” her question hung on a cliff, dangling in hope for a name.

“Jason.” he replied, “and no, I think that’ll be all.” he tried to look for a nametag, but found a newfound attraction to chest-placed keyhole cutouts instead.

“Y/n. The checkout is something I’m supposed to take care of with a register, not with you and your eyes.” she admonished, quirking a brow before heading back to her post behind the counter, hips swaying with each step she took.

Jason watched, unable to speak by the way he was called out. He took larger steps to the checkout, head down as he did so. “Yes. Right. Sorry.” he stammered when he finally reached the register, patting his jacket pockets for his wallet before finding it in his pec pocket (or, as he calls it, tit patch). “How much would those be?”

Y/n clacked at the old register buttons, its labels washed out from abuse. “$52.75. Cash, card, or number?”

“Pardon?” Jason opened up his wallet.

“Y’know, you could tender with cash, a credit or debit card, or your phone number.”

Jason smiled widely at y/n, finally acknowledging her forward attempt at flirting. He set his wallet down on the counter and asked quietly, “Can you do that here?”

“For you? Sure.” y/n remarked, her ‘sure’ accompanied by a survey of Jason’s tall figure with her eyes. She tore a piece of paper and opened a drawer by her hip, grabbing a pen and jamming it shut before sliding the pair to Jason.

Pen in hand, Jason jotted down his number and passed it back to y/n, who already removed her phone from one of her pockets and entered the number into it. Jason watched her every move, impressed, albeit flattered, by her determination; until, of course, his phone vibrated in his back pocket. He checked it briefly: new text: you are as tall as you are hot, buddy.

Jason gaped at the text before looking at y/n. “I must be pretty short then.” he snickered, earning a scoff from the woman on the other end of the counter.

“Short on time? Patience?” she dipped her voice an octave. “...Self-control?”

Before Jason could respond, y/n’s coworker, Jade, greeted him. “Hey, Jay! How was work today?”

Jason stopped in his tracks. Y/n dropped her seduction tactics, returning to her guarded expression. “Yes, Jay, how was work today?”

Both employees stared at Jason with terribly different intentions, one with genuine curiosity, and the other with vehemence. “It was okay, I guess. Made some tips, so that’s why I’m here.”

“Good.” Jade chirped. “I would have stopped by on the livestream, but I dunno…camwork really isn’t my thing. Wish you all the best though!” She finished with a beam before walking away from the counter and to the back of the store, away from whatever tension she sensed.

“I can explain-”

“Over breakfast. Tomorrow.” y/n decided Jason’s fate for him, which he was happy was spared. It was rare he was forgiven for white lies, something that he was awfully rung out for. He accepted his dues with a nod and snuck out of the record store with his tail tucked between his legs.

—

Jason and y/n exchanged details on their confirmed date, so it was rather disappointing to Jason when he arrived at the Gotham Diner to…nobody. He checked his phone when the waitress seated him at a booth, and again after she poured him a cup of coffee. Nothing.

“Good morning, Jason.” y/n greeted out of nowhere, bringing Jason’s attention from his desolate thoughts to the woman now scooting herself on the abrasive booth cushion. He must have smiled, because y/n added, “Got your uppers for today?”

He rolled his eyes at her. “Good to know your chipper attitude isn’t just your customer service voice.” he critiqued, to which y/n stared at him. “You look nice today.”

“Thanks. I think I stepped on dog shit on the way over.” she glanced underneath the table at the underside of her boot.

The silence between them was too agonizing for Jason to handle, despite it being short. “So, about yesterday, I didn’t really mean to lie like that, and I just wanted to say I’m-”

“Seriously don’t worry about it, man. I like that you’re not put off by me, y’know? A lot of guys are; usually it’s the chicks I hit on that admire my decisiveness.” y/n tore open a few packets of stevia, shaking its contents into her coffee before stirring it with the wooden stick. “Jade gave me intel on your job though.” Jason frowned, awaiting the imminent rejection he expected with the acknowledgement of his unconventional line of work. “I’m all for sex work, dude, so don’t sweat it, but camwork? Really? Isn’t that, like, outdated now?”

Jason allowed his shoulders to slouch as his nerves settled, pleasantly surprised by y/n’s reaction. “To be honest, I know a lot of people do shit like modeling, but it feels so…forced.”

“And camwork is different? I’m not sure how it is for guys.”

“No, you…you have a point.” y/n saw through him, and saw something he hadn’t quite noticed in himself; it was, to a degree, a facade. He didn’t want to jeopardize his vulnerability to the dark caves of the internet, so he simply hid behind something he wanted to be, rather than completely himself. Perhaps that was why he admired y/n so much, despite knowing so little of her.

The pair was interrupted by a waitress, who took their orders. “An egg-white only omelet, please.” Jason politely asked.

“And could you get me a large stack, please? With extra blueberries on top.” Y/n asked with wide eyes, clearly ecstatic by the antioxidant properties of the garnish.

After the waitress left, they returned to their conversation. “I do pretend to enjoy some of the stuff I’m requested to do, but I dunno.” Jason hid behind his cup of coffee, an absurd sight for y/n seeing a tall, broad figure hunched over. “To be honest, I’m kinda turned on by the idea of someone watching me. Plus it pays the bills.”

Y/n mirrored Jason’s shrug in rapport. “I see what you mean. If I had the body, I think I’d do the same, but there isn’t much of a market for stocky punk chicks.” she stated, a sliver of disappointment in her voice.

“I’d watch.” Jason blurted, before covering his face with his large hand. “Sorry, I-”

“One omelet, egg whites only.” the waitress returned, huge tray balanced in her palm. She distributed the plates and utensils. “And a large stack for y/n, our favorite regular.” the waitress beamed at y/n, who returned the sentiment. “Hope you two enjoy.” she left with a wink.

“Thanks, Wanda!” y/n called from her booth, giddily dancing in her seat when returning her attention to the stack of round, golden pancakes in front of her.

“You come here often?” Jason inquired skeptically, offended that she hadn’t indulged him in the information prior to their scheduling.

Y/n nodded and gave a “mmhmm” that was muffled by pancakes in her mouth. “You know, I used to come here in my college days.” y/n explained once she swallowed her first bite of the delectable breakfast treat. “I’d stop by with my study group - which was usually just me - and I’d sometimes order a few rounds of the stacks. Wanda there joked that my veins are probably pumping syrup more than blood, and I’m afraid I have to agree with her on that one.”

Jason let out a chuckle while cutting his omelet with a knife and fork with minimal scraping. “At least the vampires will get a tasty dessert if they bite you.”

“Maybe you’re right!” y/n stifled her laughter. “Maybe they’ll pour my blood over some waffles or something.”

Hand over his mouth to prevent omelet from flying all over the table and y/n, Jason chortled and mocked Dracula, “Mmm! ‘Vou must try this breakfast! Ze blood is vunderful!”

Y/n gasped jokingly. “How dare you mock vampires? They don’t all sound like that.”

They each took turns smacking the table and giggling, exchanging niche vocal impressions until Wanda returned with a warning. “You two are causing a distraction to some of our other patrons here. Try to keep it under control, okay?” she gave them a lambasted look. “Here is the check, since I know you two will probably want to continue your date.”

Date. Y/n blushed at the word. “Thank you, Wanda. And tell that rigid couple in booth twelve that we’re sorry, and we’re not real vampires.”

“But we will bite if needed.” Jason added with a cheap smile.

Wanda sighed and walked away, murmuring something incoherent.

As Jason was about to snag his wallet, y/n slipped a couple of bills in the receipt card. “I’m holding you hostage, so I’m paying. Don’t worry, pretty boy.”

Though the action was assurring, it was confusing when paired with y/n’s nickname for Jason. He found himself amused at the woman, and had to ask: “What are your answers, by the way?”

“Hmm?”

“Your answers. To the question you asked me yesterday. You never gave me yours.”

Y/n grinned innocently, sincerity splayed across her face. Jason wished he could have taken a photo of it - her eyes were just pretty. “Gimme a sec to think,” she sat back in the booth, head hitting the backrest with a thump. “So I usually don’t do anything except listen to music and read, I have two siblings - but three if you count the imaginary turtle I had when I was six, I love a good bowl of soup and some tamales, and I’m not wearing any.”

Jason cocked his head, perplexed by the final answer. “Not wearing any? Any what?”

“Underwear.” y/n blinked innocently, despite being well aware of her suggestion. “You asked if I’m wearing underwear, right? I’m not.” her smile grew bigger with each word, and her eyes dimmed darker with lust.

So did Jason’s. “Oh, uhm.” he was indecisive, unable to choose how to respond. It wasn’t that Jason was inexperienced the art of flirtation, it was that he hadn’t quite been this interested in someone in a long time, and it showed by the way his cheeks reddened (and cock hardened in his pants) at her reveal.

He refused to indulge, his pride in the way. “Thank you for this.”

“No problem.” It wasn’t the reaction y/n was hoping for, and her tone fell with it.

They stood and exited the diner together, loitering in the parking space where Jason had left his motorcycle. Jason noticed that y/n’s spark died off when he hadn’t taken her bait, and although he felt guilt, he knew he wanted to explore the relationship more prior to sleeping together. He feared that y/n took it personally;

She did. “I’ll text you.” she said, backing away before she gave a brief wave of her hand and disappearing into the crowd of Gothamites.

—

“Jesus, what is wrong with me.” y/n sighed when she re-entered her loft, littered with old clothing on the ground, and walls decorated with mismatched posters. As she untied her boots, she replayed the rejection in her head: Jason’s nose twitching, eyes shifty, and mouth open, pausing to choose whatever denial he believed was appropriate.

Her phone chimed in her pocket, but she neglected to check it; instead, she hovered to her bed on the other end of the studio flat, and tumbled onto it, her sheets making a punched ‘oof’. Deep breaths calmed her worried mind buzzing with defeat, and she wondered if perhaps she was, in a word, bamboozled.

It didn’t make sense: the flirting beforehand, way his eyes wandered too freely on her body like a dog to a treat, yet he rejected her…why? Was it what she wore that day? The borderline offensive vampire impressions? Or was it, in the end, her determination that hammered the final nail into the coffin of the potential of their relationship?

Heels digging in the sand, y/n set off on her research, beginning with Jason’s business venture. She sat up in her bed, fixing the pillows to better suit her needs, and reached over for the laptop on the ground. Y/n opened it and waited for the startup operation sequence, the fan vibrating over y/n’s lap as it whirred.

“Alright, Todd, let’s see what camwork you’re doing.” y/n murmured as she entered the site info, creating an account to access the lewd media. “A $7.99 subscription? I didn’t know these cost money nowadays.” she chortled at the virtual pricetag while entering her card info, reluctant to provide sensitive information on her archaic device.

Upon granted access, y/n’s eyes widened, blurred images revealing themselves to her, and she was, well, intrigued, to say the least. The first uncensored media on the site feed was Jason in a public dressing room, unclothed; his hooded eyelids and smirk enhanced his smitten look; his chest was naked, gleaming from the shop lights, and his shoulders were broad, leaned back into the wall of the dressing room; his torso was chiseled, the contour of his muscles shaping into a v near his pelvis, almost as if they were a sign from god for y/n’s eyes to point to his carefully trimmed pubic hair, which failed to hide the base of his thich, uncut cock.

Y/n hadn’t even looked at the caption, so when she finally managed to strip her eyes away from his holy figure, she grinned at the words, “Imagination - life is your creation, Doll.”

A fucking Barbie reference, and she dropped the ball? Y/n scrolled to drown her distraught, searching for a video she could watch.

A notification popped on the page: Robin Hood started a livestream. Click to join. Y/n scrambled to find her dreaded wired headphones, shoving the plug into the jack on the side of the laptop. She then clicked on the notification, instantly refreshing the screen to bring her to a livestream starring the man she had just joked with about Transylvanian vampire genitalia.

The irony. “This is unreal.” y/n muttered to herself as she stared at the tall man sat back on his bed - different than his usual post in his computer seat - as he flicked open a cap of lube, applying it to his hand before he spread it on his erection. He exhaled as he did so, toned chest rising as his fingers moved along his sensitive flesh.

“Fuck, this feels good.” Jason moaned, hips bucking into his hand as his eyes remained closed. Y/n rubbed her thighs together at the sight. “I’m already so close. I wanna come so bad.”

Y/n let out a low moan deep in her throat, mouth watering at the filth transmitted through her earbuds. She watched as Jason’s hand moved from the base of his cock to its head, his wrist twisting. He searched for a speed, but was indecisive with the way his hips shot up sharply, thrusting into his hand. The wet skin sound filling y/n’s earbuds was fucking dirty, and she knew she had to shower right after finishing the livestream - she wanted to see him come, hear the euphoric, obscene noises leaving his mouth.

“Fuck” Jason grunted, holding his cock with one hand, and the other roaming his torso and thighs. “Oh, shit, you feel amazing.” his words were so intent, sincere, as if he imagined someone actually riding his cock - or it was y/n who was projecting her desires onto him, wishing she could straddle his lap and be the source of his pleasure, bouncing on his dick until she milked him dry.

“Oh,” Jason barely pushed through gritted teeth, “Keep going, y/n” he whispered, brows furrowing. Y/n stopped and blinked at the screen, doubting what her senses told her she heard. “Please, please, y/n…” he said it again, this time in a plea that sent y/n’s mind reeling into another dimension as she wanted to touch herself, but wanted, more than anything, to drive Jason over the edge.

His breaths fell staggered, jerking at his cock hard as his bottom lip trembled. “God, I wanna come. Your pussy is so good,” he admitted, eyes screwed shut, “so fucking good.” his speed became erratic, frantically searching for God in a moment’s release, and y/n was right there with him, her panties soaked from the heavenly torturous sight in front of her. She wanted to tell him to come, tell him how good he feels driving his cock into her, continuously, and how badly she wanted to sit on his pretty face until she screamed.

“Shit! Oh, fuck, god.” Jason exclaimed, profanities slipping him like a ghost leaving his vessel as spurts of cum erupted from his cock, body stilling. He thrusted into his hand once more before finally relaxing, catching his breath in a laugh. 

He looked down at the mess of cum he made on his pelvic bone and torso, a splash landing all the way to his neck, and he shook his head. “Wow. Hadn’t had that much in a long time. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. See you later.” Jason smirked, propping himself on his elbows and biting his lip before the livestream ended.

Y/n sat in front of the computer screen with glossy eyes. She was his spank bank. She was. The reality set in, and it finally clicked.

But before she could allow herself to feel relief, free from the shackles of rejection in which she imprisoned herself, y/n quickly moved to her feet and grabbed her phone from the other side of the room to check the notification she dismissed earlier:

Jason. Hey, I hope I wasn’t too rude, but I don’t want to pursue any- (½) Y/n opened the message, careless of the read receipt that would be sent to him. -anything sexual, since that’s my job, and I’ve been used before. I hope that doesn’t ruin anything with you, because I do think you’re special, but I understand if it does. I’m here if you want a second date.

Y/n skimmed over the text, and reread it to check if her senses failed her once more. I hope that doesn’t ruin anything with you, she repeated. I do think you’re special. Y/n smiled widely as she opened up the keyboard to reply:

I thought I was too much. Usually am.

She rested her back against the wall, waiting for a response. Already, it shown as read, and the bubbles appeared at the bottom of their chat.

It’s not your fault, I should have clarified from the start. Are you free this weekend?

Y/n felt the melting of the glacier in her chest, and the cooling of the heat between her legs. She gathered her thoughts for a response:

I think I am on Sunday. 

Jason’s reply was instantaneous, and y/n was thankful games were off the table for them.

Meet me at the Gotham library?

Y/n smiled. Fuck yeah.

It’s a date. Jason replied, the three words launching y/n into orbit.

So much of an orbit that she hadn’t proofread her response. Btw, saw your livestream.

Y/n regretted it instantly, eyes blown wide and apprehension rising in her.

The bubbles came up on the phone screen before disappearing, then reappearing again. Y/n cursed to herself as she waited. Finally: Good. You looked absolutely stunning at breakfast. Wanted to eat you instead of the omelet.

Maybe y/n could get used to this, after all.

[womenofwrestlingfashion]

PLT Label Stone Lace Up Detail Faux Leather Crop Top ($31 -on sale) & PLT Label Stone Cut Out Detail Faux Leather Mini Skirt ($26 - on sale) from Pretty Little Thing

[snek-panini]

Happy Halloween! Have a book:

This is Siren's Song by @kedreeva (Hi! I asked to bind your fic months ago, sorry it took so long XD). It's an incredible Good Omens siren AU, which needs no introduction from me but it gets one anyway. It's one of the most in-character fics I've ever read, tackles a lot of the most resonant themes of the original (love in the context of aromanticism and asexuality, human labels in the context of non-human perspective), and has incredible world-building. Later parts of the fic always make me cry but they're good tears. You'll see. When I first learned that fanbinding was a thing and started looking into how to do it, this was one of the first fics I thought of. It just took me a while to learn the skills I needed before I could do it.

More pics and process talk under the cut!

So the cover up there is black faux leather and momi paper that I bought...about two years ago? And just kept on hand till I was ready to do this project. This is the first time I've worked with it and it was fairly nice, though harder to get a nice crease into than lokta or chiyogami. It felt very fragile when I was handling it but I didn't have any issues with tearing or glue bleed-through like I thought I might. It did bleed some color when I got it damp with the glue, and it took way longer to dry than normal, but once that was done it's been fine. Which is nice because I have a lot left over, so it'll probably be making many future appearances in my binds.

Look! It's rounded! I got a backing setup recently and this is my first time using it. It was Very Hard and I am not very good at it yet. But I think it looks pretty good for a first attempt, and there was really no other way to mitigate the spine swell on this one. I used a thick paper so I've got a thick book. I also tried something new with the case, though it isn't visible. Usually I make the text block and the case separately and then attach them as the last step, but for this one I actually built the case around the text. Like, boards attached to mull/tapes (sandwiched between thinner boards, with grooves cut for them so there are no bulges), then covered with momi, then leather corners and spine, then paste down the endpaper. It's got an oxford hollow, too! The tapes and mull actually wrap around the outside of the boards instead of the inside like I've done before. Endpapers are my favorite feather chiyogami. Combined with the marbled momi they make for a very opulent look, and I had just barely enough to do this. Like, down to the millimeter. I had to trim the edges and then glue the endpapers after to be sure they were right. I'm glad they were, because I didn't have a backup plan. Handmade endbands, colors picked to match the cover. Also, last note, I got the corner bits right for the first time. Measured properly, with no weird pointy bits that come out at funny angles. Very proud.

Title page and bookmark/interior shot. Did you know that some basic fonts in MS Word look different when you use a huge font size? Because I didn't until I made this title page. That's Parchment for the title, and it only gets those swirly bits around the capital letters if you take it to 26pt or higher (I used 72 here). Now I wonder if any of the other fonts have easter eggs in them like that. The ribbon is very fancy, to go along with the rich endpaper/cover combo. I think it's pretty appropriate for a mythological golden age of piracy story, as are the text ornaments:

Chapter header image, chapter end image, and section break image. It was a very image-heavy typeset. I was originally planning to only have a header and a section break, but I couldn't decide whether I liked the ships or the book/shell/feather better, and they both suited the story so well that I just went with both. Again, opulent, but I think it fits. All the images came from rawpixel, all I did was resize them.

There was a small error in the trimming process. Comes of having to calculate so closely the exact amount you can trim off, that you have to trim off so your slightly-too-small endpapers fit. I think something got misaligned when I poked the sewing holes because only the first signature is like this. The rest of the book has a more appropriately-sized margin between the page number and the edge. I got very lucky here, and I know it, and I'm never cutting it this close (lol) again. Next time we just order another sheet of chiyogami.

And that's it! I have one author's copy and one new bind in progress right now (that's taking a while because I'm learning more new stuff for it), and then I have two Christmas gift books to do, so it might be a bit before I have another book to share.

[greenhorn-art]

Unqualified Assistance by TheDefenestrator

Art by @lycheeluv

Fandom: 全职高手 | The King's Avatar

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Category: Gen

Words: 9,601

No one has ever doubted the identity of the “team reporter’s assistant” following Excellent Era around to their games, but he sure takes slacking to a new level. How does he get so many exclusive interviews and never publish anything?! Ye Xiu would like to protest that he has, in fact, listened to their advice and published many articles. They’re just all Glory guides.

Collection: QZGS Big Bang 2023

ABOUT THE BOOK

FORMAT: Letter quarto (trimmed), flatback casebinding, french link stitch, no tapes

FONTS: Times New Roman, Permanent Marker [via Google Fonts], KaiTi

IMAGES: Artwork by Lycheeluv

MATERIALS: 24lb Xerox Bold Digital paper (8.5"x11"), 80pt binder's board (~2mm), 30/3 size waxed linen thread, 1.9mm cording, green cardstock, Russian Green Iris bookcloth, DecoArt Crafter's Acrylic Yellow Gold, 20lb printer paper, paste wax

PROGRAMS USED: Affinity Publisher, Bookbinder-JS

.

Been feeling restless lately and thought that the focus and rush of Making A Thing would help. So I turned to my AO3 bookmarks to find a short fic to bind. I found three loosely connected by a similar theme: people interacting with Ye Xiu without knowing he's 'Ye Qiu'. I ended up doing all of them as a mini three-book collection.

[First, Second, Third]

Unqualified Assistance was the first one I typeset, using Times New Roman because in the story Ye Xiu poses as a reporter. (Times New Roman -> newspapers -> reporters). I went back in and added the Permanent Marker for the AO3 info after using it in the next book.

I also added a faint Lorem Ipsum background to the title page and first page of the story as a nod to the reporter profession.

Unqualified Assistance is another Big Bang fic. I wanted to highlight the awesome artwork, so I kept the typeset on the minimal side and didn't use any other art. Lychee's work is so lovely and expressive!

For the bookcloth I went with green because in the fic Ye Xiu is known as 'Wang's Rookie' or 'Rookie Wang'. (Time for more word association: Rookie -> greenhorn -> green, and Wang -> Wang Jiexi -> Tiny Herb -> green).

For the endpapers I used cardstock in a colour matching the bookcloth cover. No artwork or decorative paper here, just colour coordination that I can carry throughout the set.

On a whim, I trimmed the textbooks and painted the edges gold. This, I think, was the last step that really made the books a set.

With some finishing touches in the form of endbands and labels, it was done. The faux endbands were made by wrapping bookcloth around a core (in this case, leather cording). The paper label on the front cover was printed on regular ol' printer paper (20lb) treated with a paste wax (wax & mineral spirits/turpentine mix). In the future I'll use 24lb paper, because the 20lb turned slightly translucent after waxing.

[autistic-ben-tennyson]

In Defense of Vegans

I can’t believe I have to make this but after seeing how posts like the above still get thousands of notes I’m going to. While there are critiques of militant veganism I agree with as a former vegan, some people need to chill out. What’s aggravating about most people here is how much they hate vegans but less in the alt right conservative fashion and more under a guise of faux progressivism. All nuance is thrown out and people treat the vegan debate as a false binary of either eat local, humane meat or child slave soy.

I’ll start by saying I was a lot more anti vegan when I first got on this hellsite. Reblogging anti-vegan posts and picking occasional fights with vegans. I was a lot angrier and was letting off steam as someone who was a former vegan who had a hard time with it. Same with religion, I was a lot more anti religion when starting my blog due to anger at evangelicals. Being able to recognize how it just wasn’t my cup of tea has caused me to let go of a lot of that anger. I wasn’t happy doing it but that’s not a damnation of veganism or vegans.

What irritates me about how most treat vegans is that it’s often reacting to a stereotype or strawman of vegans rather than actually engaging with them. All these posts about how vegans are destroying the environment with their child slave quinoa, cashews and plastic leather, when being a vegan doesn’t require using that stuff. A lot of them are smarter than given credit for and do research what they buy. Many do eat local produce and use hand me down wool or leather. They aren’t just buying every hipster product labeled vegan. Vegans are forced to be put on the defensive and what should be a conversation about how no food is really ethical in this capitalist society turns into a shouting match and “no you” regarding who’s more “cruelty free”.

I can understand having beef with militants if you have faced bigotry such as racism or ableism from animal rights activists. But some people really are quick to hate vegans and justify it as woke or leftist. Sometimes, people won’t even check the source before reblogging it, like the video of that problematic new age hippie, appropriating Pacific Islander culture, claiming veganism is colonialism.

I think a lot of vegans get hate for being the wrong kind of neurodivergent in some peoples eyes. Many, including myself, do have hyper empathy and are swayed by emotional arguments such as documentaries such as Earthlings. They make one small mistake and everyone treats them as if they’re the worst even if they do apologize for it like @sobadpink here in the replies. Many of them do have trauma from the cruelty towards animals they’ve seen which is treated with little sensitivity by people who claim to be allies to those who are neurodivergent and/or have faced abuse or PTSD. While white PETA types need to be called out, many famous civil rights leaders have been vegan/vegetarian like Cesar Chavez or Corretta Scott King and people do a disservice by treating it as solely a white man’s ideology.

Being a vegan isn’t easy and a lot of people’s anger here is fairly reasonable in my opinion. Many are ostracized by their families, can hardly find any food while on the go and struggle with people not understanding or refusing to understand them. Correcting misinformation from vegans is one thing and then there’s just being a jerk about it. A lot of anti vegan people here are the latter. You can say it’s self inflicted but many do think they’re doing a good thing, even if the meat industry is more complicated than just “vote with your dollar”. I would be a bit defensive myself if people treated me like a racist, ableist colonizer who hates migrant workers the moment I mentioned what I eat for lunch.

Call me a bleeding heart or ARA if you want but I think a lot of vegans here deserve more charity than they’ve been given. It’s like this site, when it comes to this issue, is stuck in 2015 as I’ve seen vegans try to explain their side, offer different perspectives and correct misconceptions but nope, another post about slave labor quinoa or plastic wool gets made every week and gets thousands of uncritical notes. People claim those posts aren’t about shaming vegans but that’s sure not how they come off as. Even a lot of the big “anti vegan” blogs here have admitted they went a bit too far and have mellowed out. I don’t agree with everything hardcore vegans have done or said and I can understand why some who’ve been hurt by them may dislike vegans but I think tumblr is way too harsh and intolerant of vegans despite claiming to be the leftist weirdo safe space.

[noemilivv]

hi hi! i just saw that you were doing matchups for hazbin, and i wanted to send something in!! this is my first time sending in anything like this on tumblr, so hoping i’m doing this right!!

✧ i’m genderfluid, and i’m generally more interested in men than i am women

✧ i’m ambiverted - i was raised in a way that made me a bit socially isolated, so i have issues with being social today. i don’t really know how to introduce myself to people, so i don’t speak to people unless they speak to me first. when it’s someone new, i usually let them lead the conversation, but when i’m comfortable with someone, i talk a lot more - i’ll tell them random stories i remember, and infodump about my current interest, run down the entire plot of the book i’m currently reading, all of that. my brain goes faster than my mouth a lot of the time, and i have trouble putting my thoughts and feelings into words.

✧ my style is all over the place. the most common color in my wardrobe is black, because mixing and matching colors kinda stresses me out. not to mention what i wear in my day to day can change depending on where i feel on the gender spectrum at any given time. my default is combat boots and (faux) leather jacket + gold rings and earrings

✧ my main love languages are acts of service (receiving) and gift giving (giving) - making people stuff is a sort of hobby of mine. i crochet a lot, and i love love love making people plushies <3 a lot of the time i’ll even start a craft project that i don’t even really want to keep and put it away in a stash of stuff to give to other people when the opportunity arises

✧ i bounce hobbies a lot, but the main ones that have stuck with me over a long period of time are drawing/animating and reading

✧ i have obsessive-compulsive disorder. there are certain topics/words i absolutely cannot say due to my ocd labeling it as taboo, and it’s made me a very superstitious person

✧ i cycle through interests a lot lot lot, but animation (both itself and as an industry) have been my main one for a while now. currently, i’m also really into dinosaurs and jurassic park! (fun fact, the velociraptor in jurassic park ought to be closer to the size they depict the dilophosaurus, and the dilophosaurus ought to be closer to the size they depict the velociraptor!)

make sure you don’t burn yourself out with these, i’ve seen you answer a lot already, take your time!! thanks in advance!

haha dw you did everything it seems!! i’m already burning myself out a bit sadly, as i’ve seemed to get a lot of requests than i can chew haha, but i’m gonna make it work!! you seem like such a sweetie, so ty anon for requesting!! i match you with…

Lucifer !!

Luci is a bit socially isolated too haha, as he sits at home and makes ducks all day

Speaking of, you two have your fair share of grandma-grandpa hobbies that you do together (crochet, knitting, etc)

He loves trying new hobbies with you, it keeps you entertained since your hobbies bounce back a lot, and it gets him out of his comfort zone

Also, he loves reading to you, he will do a bunch of silly voice for all the characters XD

You both just tend to info dump about your favorite topics to eachother, which Lucifer loves, no one really listens to his odd rambles, so the fact that you do is very heartwarming💕

[bebemoon]

look for the name: LILICO

@dalgonamilk

snake divine "dark fairy" knit top

maxwell (name on label) distressed khaki micro mini pleated skirt

chrome hearts filigree cross tie choker necklace

oddity "dead air" extrait de parfum

le silla leather clog-style wooden platform ankle boots w/ faux fur trim

number (n)ine x magical design sull {w/ cross over one eye} ring, a/w 2oo6

guess y2k faux fur handbag w/ leather inserts and gold patch details

[lamaisongaga]

FASHION CREDITS: "JOKER: FOLIE À DEUX"

In "Joker: Folie à Deux", director Todd Phillips brings a new, musical twist to Gotham's most notorious characters, with Lady Gaga taking on the role of Harley Quinn.

The film’s visual storytelling is further elevated by renowned costume designer Arianne Phillips, whose intricate designs blend classic Hollywood glamour with dark, psychological undertones. Hair by Frederic Aspiras and makeup by Sarah Tanno-Stewart.

Harley is introduced in custom marigold and blue mohair cardigans, crafted by the movie’s costume team, and subtly woven with diamond patterns. These diamonds, a nod to her harlequin origins, quietly foreshadow her dark journey. Phillips’ design choices blend symbolic elements with a grounded, human realism, allowing the audience to connect with Harley before her madness fully surfaces.

Phillips, whose contributions are essential to bringing this new vision of Harley to life, draws upon the delicate balance between whimsy and tragedy. Her mastery is evident in every layer of Gaga’s costumes, capturing the tension between Harley’s identity as Quinzel and her gradual shift into Joker’s lover and accomplice. This collaboration continues Phillips’ tradition of injecting meaning into every piece, creating a visual narrative that complements the film’s psychological depth.

Lee’s cozy sweaters set a backstory for the character, according to Phillips: "The idea is that maybe she found it in a thrift store or it belonged to her father".

Her scruffy vintage Capezio ballet slippers (a reference to Amy Winehouse — who sported a visibly worn-in pair on more than one occasion — and director Todd’s idea) also convey vulnerability. And an origin story.

"There’s a little infantilizing of her in the beginning", says Phillips. "She has this bravado — a fearlessness that you really experience in a young person — and then you see her as her determination grows over time."

A particularly striking piece is the white silk bias-cut gown Harley wears during the rooftop dance sequence. Created in collaboration with Gaga’s sister, Natali, under her label Topo Studio NY, the dress features criss-cross embellished straps.

Phillips designed the look to evoke the elegance of classic silver-screen icons, blending Harley’s dreamlike fantasy with a cinematic nod to vintage Hollywood.

"Totally Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire", says Phillips, "and [the dress inspiration] was in the script, so I leaned into that".

Harley also wears a pair of vintage 1938 Bvlgari platinum and diamond ear clips, now part of the Bvlgari Heritage Collection in Rome.

She completed the look with a silver version of these Bloch Chord T-strap dance heels.

"The early ‘80s was the time when the East Village scene and CBGB on the Bowery were starting up", says Arianne about the inspiration for Lee’s supposedly thrifted, ‘70s "babydoll, Biba-esque dresses" worn with discordant oversize cardigans and chunky punk rock outerwear. "She has a fake fur jacket and a thrift store men’s sweater. She would have cobbled these looks together, but, still, there’s a vulnerability and bizarre innocence — she’s this sycophant who’s obsessed with Joker. That mix, to me, shows that".

For her casual attire, Lee wore this vintage 1960s faux fur double-breasted peacoat in teal and black, along with vintage floral dresses underneath!

Her necklace in the shape of a diamond, custom-made by Michael Schmidt Studios, shows the Hermetic Seal of Light: "This symbol, often referred to as the synthesis of alchemy or the Hermetic Seal, hearkens back to ancient Pythagorean philosophy, wherein the square, circle, and the triangle are the emblems of the material body, the soul, and the spirit, the three elements believed to be necessary for alchemical transformation."

Harley‘s 70s-style brown patchwork leather chevron hobo bag, now lovingly named the "Harley", is a one-of-a-kind piece made by Kilner Goods who uses upcycled materials for her designs.

"I sort of saw it and I didn’t know if it was some sort of a joke or a scam or something. I sort of forwarded it to my friends and family and said ‘Wow, this is cool if it is real'" Nicole Loewen states.

Arika Nerguiz is actually a primarily dance shoe designer, and the Gaia is a dedicated tango shoe. But Lee makes use of it here as an adorable day shoe while out and about in Gotham City.

For the Joker & Harley Show bit, Lee dons a striking marigold two-piece set with a smattering of delicate Swarovski crystal and bugle bead strings assembled by Western Costume Co. that references Bob Mackie’s work for Cher.

This one’s designed by Arianne who had it custom-made by her costume team. She also wore custom rainbow-striped platform heels.

Out of Arkham, Lee gradually shows her support of (or fixation on?) Arthur and his Joker persona by moving up the gallery to sit front row at his trial.

For the courtroom fantasy segment, Lee wears a custom sheer crimson tunic dress with burnout black velvet triangles all over, made by the costume team.

Back in the courthouse, Lee (Harley) Quinzel wears a vintage Biba-esque navy, flower-print "church"-type dress with an exaggerated Peter Pan collar in contrasting white.

The white diamond-patterned 20/60 dernier tights are the Losanges tights by Emilio Cavallini, who renamed them into the Harlequin tights ($38) after seeing Gaga in them!

Lee walks down the aisle toward Joker in a custom white bridal V-neck mini dress with a delicate diamond trapunto pattern and gleaming ribbons streaming down the shoulders — "playing into what Arthur would be attracted to," says Arianne. "In her fantasy, and his fantasy, what would that look like?"

Phillips referenced ‘60s icons like Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis for the block-heel Mary Janes, plus Doctor Zhivago-era Julie Christie and the late ‘60s/‘70s silhouettes of Ossie Clark and Biba. "The dress is pretty inspired by my aunt, who got married in the ‘70s," she adds. "I was a flower girl".

The adorable white patent leather Mary Jane pumps with double buckled straps are the Alice by Carel ($510).

The nuptials transition into a raucous jazz performance at the ill-fated (and ominously named) Pogo’s comedy club. Lee smashes the keys on a baby grand as she belts out a banger, wearing a silver metal mesh dress that sways with her bombastic movements, bringing to mind...well, Lady Gaga.

Arianne collaborated with Michael Schmidt Studios on the sparkly stage-wear. "I made a diamond-shaped collar that just gave a certain energy to that scene" she says.

You‘ll find the diamond shape somehow always in everything Harley wears. Here, it appears in her custom Michael Schmidt Studios drop earrings!

Arianne whispered to me that Lee also donned a pair of Gianvito Rossi heels in this scene. Even though her feet are mainly hidden by the piano she plays on, I believe that it‘s the Crystelle sandals that sparkle vividly in the shadows.

We can see Lee getting ready for Arthur‘s final trial, wearing the Kit Undergarments organic cotton triangle soft bra in "Darling" floral print!

Lee strides into court in full Harley Quinn regalia: a red silk blazer with raised diamond patterns and pleated ruffle cuffs, a theatrical corset and graphic tights.

"Along with embracing her determination, she has taken on this persona inspired by Joker," says Arianne. She imagines that Lee thrifted the red jacket from an old circus uniform, ripped the muslin and ruffle-trimmed corset off a period costume gown, and maybe copped the leather mini from the Gotham outpost of Trash and Vaudeville. "You see the diamond pattern throughout," she adds.

The costume was created using fabrics from International Silks & Woolens which were then custom tucked and pleated by Twins Pleating & Smocking.

Previously worn in white, Lee also chose the Harlequin black 20/60 dernier tights ($38) by Emilio Cavallini!

Lee completed her dramatic ensemble with a vintage leather bag and these Charles Jourdan Cecil patent leather ankle boots with decorative elastic bands!

Last but not least, we see Harley Quinn one more time, dressed in her custom black and white ruffle-trimmed corset and custom black chevron jacquard peacoat with red silk lining.

"My idea was that the black and white corset was something that she ripped out of perhaps a proper costume, like an 18th-century dress. We made it out of muslin which is never what you use on the outside of a costume because the texture is unfinished and ragged on the edge." says Arianne.

The look was completed with the Converse All Star low-topcanvas lace-up sneakers in black mono.