#Gathered at cuffs and waistline

[freshthoughts2020]

[frostedmagnolias]

Dress

c. 1900

“This silk dress has a pattern of brown and black checks. There is lace trim displayed on the standing collar, the shoulder caps, the cuffs, and on the front of the boned bodice. Beading accompanies the lace on the collar, cuffs, and bodice front. The front of the bodice is also decorated with an overlay of tulle and sequins and the waistline has a beaded trim and satin bow. The skirt is gathered at the waistline and has lace trim at the hem. Features that are indicative of this time period are the S-bend silhouette, the elaborate beading and embellishments, and the boned bodice.”

Grand Rapids Public Museum

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

wildest dreams - m. murdock

a/n: i have literally not been inspired for two weeks then i was STRUCK with the urge to write this. guys. i am so proud of this one i am not even going to lie. this one is dedicated to @bunmurdock because i am literally always thinking about professor murdock.... i really hope you guys enjoy this one, because i enjoyed writing it :) warnings: SMUT! inappropriate dynamic, P in V smut, so much cursing, lots of inappropriate thoughts and pining, power dynamics, dirty talk, reader does an edible and is high for a small part of this fic, reader isn't stupid in this one! she is just horny! she is also deaf, and there is yapping of readers daddy issues word count: 6.3k likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated! <3 summary: you have a huge crush on your professor and spend many days desperate for him. pairing: professor!matt murdock x hoh!reader now playing: wildest dreams - taylor swift (taylor's version) "i said, "no one has to know what we do"/his hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room"

You could treat him better than any of these other horny grad students.

Seriously, that is your only conscious thought watching this man move around the front of this lecture center. You’re not dumb, you know everyone sitting here wants him—Those who are attracted to men want to fuck him and those who aren’t seek his approval. But you are built different, you’re also lacking a major sense, besides, your brain runs ramped with disgusting thoughts about the man.

Today’s focus is on the man’s outfit. It’s his last class of the day, and it shows. His clothes are a bit more wrinkled, and his hair is messier than it had been when he started the day. But most importantly, his jacket is thrown on the back of his chair, meaning you have a phenomenal view of his torso.

He wears a white button down, with the cuffs of the arms rolled up to just below his elbows, the bottom of the shirt tucked into the waistline of his pants. The shirt is tight, maybe a little too tight, especially around the arms. Maybe it’s because he works out. Or at least, you assume he works out.

That brings us to his tie. Oh, his tie. It’s nothing special—a pure black tie, just hanging from his neck. Your mind wanders. It starts at the dissection of a key court case in the subject of minimum wage, but from there, it starts drifting to his tie.

You think about the tie moving back and forth above you as he thrusts into you, brushing against your face, pulling on it to bring him closer. You think about that soft half chuckle he does, before he says something dirty like—

“Did you have something to add?” His voice right in front of you snaps you out of your trance. Fuck. You were not paying attention.

“Uh, No, Professor..” Your face is a deep red, embarrassed. You wish you could take off your hearing aids to stop listening to all the giggling from around you, from peers who are thrilled that Professor Murdock’s little (not-so) secret admirer got called out for her staring.

“Hm,” he taps the table in front of you, “Then I want you paying attention.” He says, before going back to his lecture. You could die right there. Everyone is laughing at you. He embarrassed you.

Okay, so you have no proof that he’s ever wanted you in the way that you’ve been so god damn desperate for him, but it’s still crushing that he’d single you out in that way. That maybe while you were increasingly needy for him, he found you fucking annoying, in such a way that he felt the need to embarrass you in front of your peers.

You want to melt—Melt into a puddle with just your boots and your hearing aids left behind so you never have to face him ever again. That’s why you’re so relieved when he dismisses class right on time (Well, right on time for him. He always ends class five minutes early to leave room for questions) and you quickly gather your things.

Because of the sheer level of embarrassment he has caused you, the other students in the class who want him try to flock to him, sensing that you no longer have the confidence to engage with him—But your desire is still there, as you messily shove your things into your backpack. You turn when you’re finished, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

Your face is still flushed, part because you’re embarrassed, part because you are out of breath from rushing. But you are faced with the view of your professor, all alone. Your breath hitches when his hand moves up to the top of his tie, as he smooths it out, running his fingers down the fabric.

“I read your essay on the expectations of the courts and law versus the realities of it. I loved it. The argument using Gideon versus Wainwright to justify the existence of the right to counsel as a civil right and not a liberty was fascinating, especially considering your other arguments about how race, class and gender play into those realities. Well done. I thought it was some of your best work.”

Your face is flushed for a new reason now. Wasn’t this the same man who was mad at you for not paying attention?

“I thought so too.” You confess, and he just smiles. He loves that you’re confident in your work. You’ll make a great lawyer one day.

“Oh, and,” He digs through his leather satchel to pull out some notes, running his finger over the folder tab to make sure he has the right folder, “Here are the printed copy of our notes from the last few lectures.” It’s part of your accommodations that professors give you a copy.

“Thanks, Professor.” You smile gently, reaching out to take the papers. Your hands meet and as you grip the notes, the tips of your fingers just barely brush against his. Neither of you say anything. Neither of you let go.

“I’m sorry if I embarrassed you today.” He starts, “But you’re bright—Smarter than most of your professors, I bet. And I don’t want you to fall behind.” He says softly, and without saying it, you know he’s worried because of your hearing. He was disabled in law school once upon a time, and he recognizes your potential.

“It’s okay.” You say softly, softer than your voice usually is. “I get it, really. It won’t happen again.”

“Good.” He says gently, letting go of the papers now. As you clutch them close to your chest, his hand goes back up to mess with his tie again. Does he know what he’s doing? Does he know how wild it drives you? He must. “I’ll see you on Thursday.”

“See you on Thursday.” You agree, and that’s when you leave the classroom.

As the door closes behind you, he listens intently. He hears your nervous heartbeat, could practically feel the heat radiating off you. But he knows your routine by now. You’re about to start playing music, and he likes knowing what sort of mood you’re in as you leave his class.

A smile spreads across his face when he hears the opening notes of that new Hozier song, ‘Too Sweet’.

• • •

You are a straight A student. You study days in advance for exams, you write elaborate study guides and most of all, you do not miss class, unless you are dying (no, seriously, the last time you missed class you were rushed to the hospital, sick with pneumonia after a big exam, which you aced). So, when you’re not in Matt’s class on Thursday, he tries not to panic.

You’re a grown woman, he tells himself, and he doesn’t have an attendance policy, having told the class on syllabus day that he trusted them to know when to come to class and when they should go lay in the sun or stay home with a bad cold.

But you once came to class doped up on cold medicine with a mask on, just because you didn’t want to miss any important information. He heard it before you got to class, so he faked a family emergency to cancel class early that day. He could hear your rattled sigh of relief as the other students flooded out.

And he knows for a fact you didn’t show up today because of how fucking loud you are; You don’t mean to be, but he can hear the light buzzing of your hearing aids, and you wear these big work boots that stomp even when you’re trying to step lightly. And he heard neither buzzing nor stomps today.

Oh, your boots. He’s spent years with everything being too loud, but he just can’t help but think about the boots—What color were they? What were their texture? He has this fantasy that lives at the very back of his mind of putting you in heels, heels too big for anyone let alone a girl who only wears clunky work boots, that way he would have to help you, take care of you, and it is a fantasy that will probably live at the back of his mind until he dies.

Sure, he’d probably get married, settle down with someone his age and never worry if she might be dissatisfied with an older man, and she’ll be quiet. No hearing aids, no big boots. They’ll have kids, they’ll be happy together. He’ll still go to you when he can’t sleep, and no one will ever know.

Wait, what was he doing? Oh, right. You weren’t in class today.

His fingers move over the keyboard to look you up in the system. He clicks on the audio assistant to read him your information. It reads out your first and last name, middle initial, then your grade in his class (A+), your accommodations (Notes, time and a half, things like that), your birthday, and—

Wait, he takes a moment, and his fingers go over to his braille calendar, realizing that you’re taking a day off because it’s your birthday. A laugh escapes his lips, because how silly was he being?

His fingers move again to find your email address. He debates for a moment before adding the subject line, “Absence Today.” Then, he erases it and changes it to, “Class Today”, hoping you wouldn’t freak out before reading the email.

And just for a moment, he lets himself dream. He writes the following email to you,

“Hey, sweetheart—

Happy Birthday. I’m so happy you’re taking a break, you deserve it, more than anyone else I know. Are you doing something fun for it? Going out and getting wasted? Hooking up with some college guy who couldn’t fuck you properly?

If I could, my birthday gift to you would be a day spent with my face buried between your pretty thighs, although that might be a birthday gift to me and not to you. I’ve always been a selfish man, and you seem to be something I am entirely selfish about. I want your hands tangled in my hair, tugging on it as I taste you. I want you all to myself. I didn’t hear the buzzing of your hearing aids or the clunking of your boots, and I felt this striking yearning.

I can’t stand being around you without having you. It’s torture.

Happy Birthday,

Matthew.’

He thinks about it for a minute, before completely erasing the email, and sending you this one instead:

‘Missed you in class today! We went over the reading for Chapter Seven. Happy Birthday! Professor M’

He sends it, and then rubs his face, a long sigh leaving his lips. He is completely enamored by you, and it is so unfair.  You’d be in class on Monday, he told himself. He’d see you then, and it would be like getting his fix of you.

Then, he turns to the distraction of trying to grade papers. It won’t work. He’ll still have you on his mind all day, and there will be no relief in sleeping. Hopefully he’ll dream of that long day between your thighs.

• • •

Truth be told, you were not drinking and fucking some random guy when Matt emails you. You were cuddled up in bed, giggling and eating snacks, so many snacks, because, well, you took an edible with a bunch of your friends and now are high out of your mind.

Some animated shows are on in the background, and when your phone buzzes, you pick it up and almost melt when you see the email from your favorite professor. You start giggling like a kid, your fingers clutching your phone as you read the email over and over again.

One friend looks up to you from her place on your floor and asks, “Are you alright?”

You don’t answer at first, but then you nod, and pull your blanket close, imagining Matt’s arms around you. Your brain paints you a picture of him holding you against his chest and gently playing with your hair.

It’s a nice fantasy.

• • •

For being a law student, you really fucking hate it sometimes. Okay, that’s not true. You love being a law student and are so excited to go out into the world and make that difference. But you’d be lying if you don’t sort of contemplate dropping out and getting a sugar daddy over certain assignments.

Maybe Matt is in the market. Then you shake your head to get the thought out of there, before opening your laptop to check your professor’s office hours. The one that assigned this assignment is an old bat who does not have office hours except for during your other classes on Fridays.

Then, you look at Matt’s office hours. He has office hours right now. You click the pen in your hand a few times, thinking. Contemplating. Would he want to see you at this point? Would you be able to control yourself?

You give the question you’re working on one more time before you lean down and grab your boots, starting to lace them up. Then, you pack up your bag, heart beating nervously over what—Asking him for help with an assignment?

You make it all the way across campus, the whole time worried about if you’ll walk in on your professor with some other girl. You almost laugh at that thought, because you think you’re silly for how dramatic you are about the man.

You stand down the hallway from his office for a few minutes, just contemplating. You could just turn around and not at all open the possibility of being around him, and everything stays the same. Nothing changes, and your relationship with your professor maintains it’s strictly professional relationship.

You walk towards the door, knocking on it before holding your breath.

“Come on in,” He calls from behind the door. Now or never. You open the door, and smile in his direction.

“Hey, professor,” You greet, a soft smile on your face. His tie is loose around his neck. You blink away whatever daydream your brain wants to dive headfirst into.

“Hey,” He greets, “I don’t think you have any assignments due, so what’s up?” He asks, tilting his head in your direction. As you think about it, you realize that you do not need help with an assignment.

“This is going to sound like a lie. But I had trouble with this assignment earlier, and suddenly I walked in here and realized I knew exactly what I was doing. I’m sorry for bothering you.” You explain, but you make no attempt to turn around and leave.

“Let me guess,” He starts, gauging by what year and academic proficiency you’re at, “Professor Reid’s estate planning class? That assignment about the will and testament of an old lady with a marriage less than 90 days and estranged kids?”

You groan and take a seat in one of the chairs in his office. He laughs in response, shaking his head.

“That old bat.” You roll your eyes. He just smiles and shakes his head.

“You’ll be fine. Just remember to cheat on your final.” He tells you, and you give him a perplexed look.

“What?”

“Well, for the final, there’ll be a question about a super niche argument on inheritance. Just cheat on it.”

“You’re a professor, telling me to cheat?”

“I cheated on it,” He shrugs. You suddenly remember that he used to go to school here and has taken all the classes you’re struggling with right now.

“You’re being unprofessional.” You tell him, and he smiles again. Your heart skips a beat, and somehow, his smile grows. As if he knows exactly what sort of effect he has on you. As if this is all a game he likes to play with you, his eager and willing participant.

“Okay, forget that I told you to cheat on Reid’s exam. We have to talk about something, it would be awkward to just sit here in silence. Uh, what did you major in in undergrad?”

“English. I minored in Disability studies.”

“So why Law?” He asks curiously, leaning forward and clasping his hands together, before resting them on his desk. Jesus Christ.

“I’m tired of being poor.” The answer slips out before you can really stop yourself. He laughs again, and something in you stirs. As if making him laugh is the newest way you feel good about yourself. How twisted is that? “I’m being serious!” You laugh too, unable to contain it.

“I’m sure,” he promises, “I grew up poor too, I was sick of it too. But if you’re going to be a lawyer—”

“You need to have respect for the law and the people taken advantage by it,” You finish, “I get that, really, I do. And I want to help people. I want to go into divorce law and help all the poor and battered women like—” You’re forgetting yourself. You’re forgetting that this isn’t a date and that this man is your professor.

“Like..?” He prods you to finish, curious. He is on the edge of his seat about you. This is more than he has gotten of you in the past few weeks you’ve been taking his class.

“Like my mom.” You finish suddenly looking for something to do with your hands. Anything, really. “But the check that comes with it isn’t exactly deterring me, you know?”

“I get that,” he says earnestly, “I was an orphan, one of those dirty scrappy ones you feel bad for,” he does that half chuckle that makes you want to go over there and kiss him. “Never knew my mom, and my dad died when I was young. So, I get it. Being poor and wanting to do better for yourself. For your parent who sacrificed for you.”

But it clicks for him, the hidden meaning behind your ambitions. You have daddy issues, and he can tell that’s part of your crush on him. Though, he’ll never say it to you. He’ll let it be something unspoken between the two of you.

“Yeah, I guess you do get it.” You smile softly. But this is dangerous. So so dangerous. The two of you are dancing this dangerous line—Well, more like you’re damn well dancing clear over the line and ignoring it. But you don’t know how to stop it. Maybe you don’t want to stop it.

“Well, uh, maybe you could finish that assignment while we’re here.” He clears his throat, straightening his tie and you try to connect the wires in your brain to focus on the assignment. You pull it out of your bag and place it on his desk, smoothing it out a bit. Matt gets up and starts to wander around the office, and you look at him curiously. “I think better when I can move around.”

You should’ve known that much, you have stared at him doing lectures, wandering from end to end of the rows and rows in the classroom.

“Yeah, totally,” You nod, focusing on the assignment. It’s on paper, the old bat refuses to use online assignments. You’re practically flying through the assignment, and it’s at the point where you are forgetting your company. In fact, you really don’t notice him.. Until you lean back and stretch, jumping when you realize that Matt has taken a spot right behind you, his hands on the arms of your chair, leaning forward. You’re practically leant up against him.

“See? Was that so hard?” Your face flushes, his voice right next to your ear. He has to know; he has to know how you’re affecting him. You tilt your head a bit, and your eyes are level with his chin. His stubble moves as he sets his jaw. He doesn’t smell much like anything… except the faintest hint of clean sheets and this slight scent of mahogany. It would go perfect with a whiff of whiskey.

“No,” you say quietly, and he almost shudders at the feeling of your warm breath against his cheek. “Not at all, Prof—”

“Call me Matt.” It’s almost begging. You’re kind of into it, but that’s not surprising given how incredibly attractive you find him.

“Okay.” You say quietly. He has reduced you to one-word answers. The two of you stay quiet for a while. You’re unsure what to say. Matt is contemplating his options. Anyone could walk in on the two of you like this. The door isn’t locked, and you want to bring this up, but the words die out in your throat. His head tilts a bit towards you, and you get a glimpse at those perfect lips of his.

“You know—” He starts, but before he can get any farther, you lean in and kiss him. You kiss him intensely, your hand on his cheek, and for once, you are not filled with regret at a bad decision. He doesn’t react at first, and for just a second, you’re nervous.

Then, He kisses you back, letting out this deep hum as he deepens the kiss. He tilts his head to get deeper into your mouth, and his hands make their way down to your hips. He focuses for a second, before wrapping his arms around you to pick you up and sitting you on his desk.

His hands trail down as the pair of you kiss, landing on your thighs. His fingers rub back and forth, and you gasp when he squeezes your thighs. He grins and takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. Your clunky boots hit against his desk and he practically growls at the sound. He pulls away, his teeth biting your bottom lip as he does.

You’re completely out of breath, and so is he. He stumbles back a bit, his lips swollen and bright pink from kissing you. He wipes his mouth as he pants, and inhales deeply. You run your fingers through your hair, brushing the hair that has fallen onto your face.

“We..” he mumbled gently, running his hand over his chin. “Holy shit, kid—”

“Don’t call me kid—”

“Listen,” he goes over to you and brushes the hair from your face, “That was.. it was phenomenal, but someone could’ve walked in on that, and.. Fuck, if we do that again, I won’t be able to keep my hands off you.” he confesses, his hands on your cheeks.

“When I was staring off into space last week, I was thinking about your tie.” You tell him, your hands are finding the base of it now. He tilts his head, curiously.

“What were you thinking about?”

“Was daydreaming about it brushing against my face as you fuck me.” You could swear his face is red. You grin.

“Yeah?” He laughs, taking the tie from you and bringing the tie up to brush against your cheeks, “Like that?” he teases, and you laugh back. Dick.

“Mhm,” You giggle, and your hands find his, wrangling the tie out of his hands, and tugging on it, before bringing him in for another kiss. He inhales deeply as he kisses you, taking the taste of you in for a moment before pulling away.

“I’m serious, sweetheart, this is dangerous.”

“Sweetheart?” You grin. He takes your chin and grips it between his thumb and pointer finger.

“Hey. Pay attention.” He says, and you want to argue that saying things in that low gravely tone will not help you pay attention, but you can tell he’s serious. That he wants your attention focused on him, this is important. “Listen. I like you. I like you a lot, but we have to be careful if we want any of this to go further. We have to be subtle and watch our steps.” He says softly.

“Okay.” You promise, “Okay, we should be careful.” He smiles gently and leans in to kiss your forehead.

“Good pup.” He hums, and your face flushes.

“I like ‘pup’.” You like sweetheart too, but your stomach flips when he calls you pup.

“Yeah, I know you do.” He grins. “Wanna get out of here?”

“I thought you said we have to be careful.”

“Okay, then I’ll give you my address and you can come over.” He shrugs. “I know how badly I need you, I can only imagine how you feel.” He hums, and you grin.

“Okay, Here, give me your phone.” Matt fishes his phone out of his pocket and hands it to you. You put your number in with your name, sending yourself a quick text before handing the phone back to him. “There. Send it to me.” He steps back so you can hop off the desk, before putting your homework back in your bag.

As you sling your bag over your shoulder, he grabs your wrist in his hand and pulls you close, just to kiss you again.

• • •

Your hands are shaking as you drive over to Matt’s apartment. You’re so full of desire for him, and you take a second after parking the car to adjust your hair and makeup. Luckily you had no plans with your friends so it’s not like you’re hiding anything from anyone.

Are you about to sleep with the professor you’ve had a crush on since the beginning of the semester? Hopefully. You take a quick glance down to the apartment number he sent you before climbing out of the car, locking it behind you.

Then, you manage your way through the building, finding yourself in front of his door for the second time tonight. You hesitate. Though, you’re not sure why. Well, maybe you do. Maybe you’re terrified that this is going to be bad. Or maybe that you’re scared you’ll be bad, and he’ll hate you.

Maybe you just need to get over yourself. Although, you can’t really do much more convincing because Matt swings open the door and grins at you. You almost die at the sight of him. His tie is gone, and his shirt is unbuttoned by three buttons.

“You’re so hot,” You blurt out as you hand him a cheap bottle of wine you picked up on the way here.

“You’re cute,” he hums, grabbing your arm and pulling you into the apartment, leaving you giggling as he closes the door behind you. You look around his apartment, your eyes catching on the giant billboard. You’re standing in front of the window when he comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. His lips gently kiss your neck, up and down, biting your shoulder gently. “Enamored by the billboard, sweetheart?”

“Your windows are so big, probably a lot of light in here during the day.” You say softly, and he smiles against your neck.

“Mhm, one day, I’ll fuck you against those windows—”

“Matt,” You groan, but he just shushes you and kisses your neck again.

“I know, pup,” He hums, “But don’t worry, I’ll show you a very nice time, hear all those pretty noises you can make for me.” You blush, turning to say something to him but he wraps his arms around your waist again, before throwing you over his shoulder and carrying you to his room. You’re laughing all the way there, before throwing you onto the bed.

“Mean.” You accuse, but he shrugs.

“You’ll get over it, sweetheart, I promise.” He hums, and you sit up on his bed. He stands between your legs, leaning down to kiss you gently, his hands finding your cheeks again. He kisses you like this for a few minutes, before slowly kneeling in front of you, never breaking the increasingly sloppy kiss. You pull away from the kiss to study him. He tilts his head, his hands finding your thighs to rub them again as he did in the office. “What?” he asks gently.

“I spent all those lectures only being able to study you from a far.. Just let me really look at you for a while..” You request. He grins gently as your fingers run over his stubble again. Your hands move up to his glasses. “Can I take these off?” You request, tilting your head.

Matt hesitates, just for a second. He’s not really used to it, to someone truly wanting to see him, every part of him. But he trusts you, wants you to see him. So he nods, letting out a soft ‘yeah’ as you pull off those circular red glasses, gently folding them and setting them down somewhere safe.

Then, you take a good, long look at his eyes. They’re this deep brown, almost black, irises that are drop dead gorgeous. The skin around his eyes is scarred, but the scars are old, yet, you rub your thumb gently against that scarred skin. You lean in and press a kiss to the corner of his eyes, first the left one, then the right one.

He leans up and kisses you after that, his hands slowly making their way down your legs. Your hands find his buttons of his shirt starting to undo them. He pulls away from the kiss, before slipping off his button up, throwing it away somewhere in the room. Your eyes drift down to these scars on his collarbones, and your fingers run over them. Then, you notice other scars on his skin, and your hands find those too.

“Your boots are so loud,” he hums, and you’re taken back by it.

“What?”

“Your boots.” He hums, “I hear you stomping around with these things on, they’re.. Like a bell, you know? I like knowing you’re around.” His fingers go down to the laces of your left boot, slowly untying them. Then, he does the same with the right boot.

He pulls off your boots, before running his fingers over your socks.

“They’re multicolored. Bright and patterned.” You confess, and he grins, before pulling them off. Then, he stops, realizing you have another pair of socks on. He blinks, before starting to laugh.

“You have two pairs of socks on?” he chuckles, your face flushing.

“My boots are just a little too big!” You tell him, and he laughs, resting his head against your thigh. He finishes taking your socks off, before working on the buttons of your jeans. When he finally gets those undone, he pulls off your pants, throwing them somewhere close to his now abandoned shirt. His hand comes up to rub you through your panties, and he lets out a scoff as he does.

“So wet for me, pup..” He mumbles, coming up to gently kiss your cheeks and then your jaw, as you whine. “I know, baby, I know,” he says softly, rubbing your clit gently. You whine gently at the feeling, gripping his wrist. He chuckles softly, kissing you to shut you up a bit.

He pulls his hand away from your throbbing cunt to pull off your tee shirt, throwing it wherever. He starts to kiss you as you fiddle with the buttons of his pants and pull them off, letting him step out of the before he casts them away.

You grin into the kiss, before he pulls away.

“What? What’s got you so giddy, pup?” he asks, a grin on his face too.

“Briefs,” You hum, fiddling with the waistband of his briefs, and he laughs, shaking his head.

“Thinking about your professor’s underwear?” He teases, leaning in to bite your neck. “Dirty, dirty girl.” He grins, and you swat at his shoulder, which causes him to laugh. He likes having fun with you, even if it’s not inherently sexual.

His hands come up to run gently over your skin, trailing from your hands up to your shoulders, and then all the way to your ears, where his fingers gently run over your hearing aids. It’s a nice gesture, really, but as soon as his fingers brush over your hearing aids, you immediately retract, the feedback shooting through your skull, uncomfortably.

“Ow—” You cringe, leaning your head back to try and get away from his fingers. He cringes, hearing the feedback, not as badly as you do but knowing it’s there and that you’re in pain pains him.

“I’m sorry,” he coos softly, his fingers moving down to cup your jaw. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart, I hadn’t realized—”

“Hey, it’s okay,” You hum, tilting your head to kiss his palm gently. “It happens, It’s why you should never touch them while I have them on.” You shrug. He leans down and kisses your stomach a bit, before going back to kiss you again, deepening the kiss a bit before roughly shoving you back on the bed. You giggle as he climbs on top of you, caging you in between his legs, as he slips his tongue into your mouth again. He kisses you with passion and need, and it drives you entirely too wild. As he pulls away, one hand comes up to grip your chin, before he leans down with his head against yours.

“Want me to fuck you, pretty thing?” He asks gently, his voice sweet as honey as he talks so obscenely to you. You whine, finally getting what you want after weeks and months of waiting. He just smiles and shakes his head, “No, no, puppy, you gotta say it to me.” He requests.

“Yes, I want you..” You groan, bucking your hips a bit at the thought of him finally fucking you.

“Want me to do what?” he asks, innocently.

“Want you to fuck me, please..” You request, and this finally seems to satisfy him. His hand comes down to unhook your bra, throwing it behind him with the rest of your clothes, before his lips begin to travel downwards, kissing down your jaw and neck, before he’s kissing the valley of your breasts, his hand going down to rub your clit again.

He groans against your skin at the feeling of your wetness soaking through your underwear and listening to your moans. His hands begin to work to take off your panties, and as soon as those are gone, your hands come up to his briefs, wanting them gone.

“Off, off, off—” You huff, and he laughs as he slips them off. Then, he reaches over and grabs a condom from the bedside table, but you grab his hand, shaking your head, “No, no—I’m on the pill, promise.”

“You sure?” He asks gently, and you nod, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips.

“Sure.” You nod, and then you’re kissing him again, your hand going down to stroke his cock, and he gasps into the kiss, before chuckling. He pulls away to mutter out to you--

“Needy girl,” he purrs, before moving to kiss you again. As you’re kissing, he slips his cock into you, and you moan into the kiss, tensing at the feeling, “Relax for me, pup.. So fucking tight for me.” He groans, his hand coming down to swat your thigh. “Relax.” He tells you, his voice sterner this time.

You nod, trying to form a more conscious thought than the pure bliss you feel, your hands wrapping around his neck, scratching down his back a bit. He groans softly, as he starts to slowly thrust into you. He is using every ounce of self-control he has, resisting the urge to absolutely violate you.

But he’s trying to be gentle, be nice.

“Faster,” You gasp out, your fingers pulling on the hair at the nape of his neck. He does that half chuckle, and it makes you whine as he begins to speed up.

“Beautiful little pup..” he says lowly, “Been staring at me.. Wanting your professor so badly these past few weeks, dirty little thing,” he hums, “Fuck, so.. fuck..” Your legs are beginning to shake the longer and harder he thrusts into you. “So fucking good for me..” You whine into his lips as they crash into yours, one hand going down to rub your clit gently, the stimulation too much for someone who hasn’t had sex this good, ever, but especially because you haven’t had sex at all in the past.. well, six or more months.

“Matty, ‘m..” You can barely get the words out as he fucks you harder,

“I know baby, come on, cum for me, pup,” he coos, his thrusts nor rubbing slowing down, maintaining his pace. Within a minute, you’re coming with loud moans into his ears, and he’s following suit shortly after, coming deep inside you.

But for the few minutes after the two of you finish, he continues his thrusting, relishing in the pretty moans and the sound of his deep thrusts into you. Eventually, he slows down, remaining deep inside of you. He pulls you close, kissing you deeply before flipping the pair of you over, and holding your legs close to stay buried deep inside of you.

For a few minutes, there are no words spoken, just deep, frantic pants and sweaty skin against each other.

“You know, that was as good as I’ve been fantasizing about for weeks.” You pant, “Better, even..” He laughs and nods.

“Me too..” he kisses you softly. “Let me take you out somewhere.”

“I thought we had to be careful..”

“We’ll go away somewhere then. Just the two of us for the weekend. I need to be with you, I can’t get enough of you now that I’ve had a taste.. Besides, I haven’t even eaten you out. Now that, that is going to be fun.” He grins, and you swat his arm.

“Evil, mean man!” You gasp, and he just laughs, kissing your forehead.

“I’m sorry, pup, let me make it up to you,” he hums.

“How?”

“Calling you pup a few times, ordering Thai food and teaching you how to suck me off?”

“I know how to suck you off,” You scoff.

“Oh yeah?” He tilts his head, leaning in to kiss him. Then, lips still against yours, he whispers, “Prove it, pretty puppy.”

[historical-closet-raider]

Autumnal Vibes

Just a couple of dresses that I think look super autumnal.

1836-38 Wool dress from the V&A collection.

Description from the V&A website:

"The fitted bodice has a low, round neck and a slightly high waistline. The skirt is box-pleated more tightly at the centre back. The sleeves are set low, tightly pleated below the shoulder. They have been altered by having the fullness reduced and a frill attached at the elbow. The sleeve puffs are stiffened with calico and supported with tapes. The main seams are faced, the bodice is lined with cotton and the skirt faced with glazed cotton."

Dress | Unknown | V&A Explore The Collections (vam.ac.uk)

Red cotton dress 1828-35 from the Augusta Auctions site.

Description from Augusta Auctions:

"Turkey red cotton with leaf and flower sprays and dotted stems in cream, wide scoop neckline, bodice gathered at chest in vertical pattern, full sleeves tapering to .5" cuff, upper sleeve lined with cane-inset muslin, inset waistband, full gatheredskirt, piped seams, muslin bodice lining, brown calico print cuff facings, indigo chambray hem facing, back closing, brass hooks & embroidered eyes, pelerine of matching fabric with scalloped bottom (scattered holes and stains, fading overall) good."

[shyvioletcat]

AELIN WEEK: DAY ONE

~ Beltane ~

Happy Aelin week everyone! I know it’s late but that’s kinda my thing. I hope you enjoy this and don’t forget to check out @rowaelinscourt​ for more.

~~~~~

Aelin sat in front of her mirror, finishing up the minor touches to her hair and face. Lysandra had been helping her prepare for tonight—weaving braids through her golden hair, setting the crown atop them, applying cosmetics to her face. It had been months since Aelin had made a public appearance outside of council meetings and smaller responsibilities she could manage around the castle. The early months of pregnancy had taken its toll, and that was all too clear from the paleness of her face and the slight pinch to her features. Tonight she needed to look the part of a regal, resplendent Queen, and examining herself in the mirror she agreed that she looked the part. 

The near constant nausea and exhaustion had forced Aelin to slow down, become less involved, much to the delight of her fussing mate. He had always claimed that she did too much and she had needed to take a step back. But tonight… This was her night. Always had been. 

Beltane belonged to Aelin of the Wildfire. 

Satisfied with her appearance Aelin gave her reflection a smile and stood, smoothing out the swathes of fabric of the dress she had chosen for tonight. With light layers of reds and oranges, and gold thread woven throughout, she looked like a living flame herself. There were thin drapes of fabric that cascaded over her shoulders and down her back. The neckline might have been more modest than she would have liked, but it was still elegant and was shown off by the hairstyle that kept all her hair off her neck to combat the early summer heat. At that moment Rowan stepped back into the bedroom, he had been doing gods knew what while she had readied herself. He was dressed in his finest too, his colours less ostentatious though, favouring greys and dark greens like he always did. It didn’t make him any less handsome. 

Rowan had been fiddling with his cuff as he walked into the room, that button or loose thread keeping his attention while Aelin waited for him to notice her. She knew he would appreciate the effort she had gone into her presentation tonight, it was all she could think about while Lysandra had fluttered around her. Once the excitement and joy over the pregnancy had somewhat faded, and the strain on her body had set in, Aelin had struggled to feel like herself. It had been weeks of feeling less than of who she desired to be and like a stranger in her own body. But in this moment she was an image of herself she could at least somewhat recognise. The part of her that delighted in teasing him had certainly reawakened and was waiting for the opportunity to see his reaction. Her impatience almost had her clearing her throat to get him to shift his attention.

“Fireheart, I—”

Aelin had rendered him speechless, after ten years she could still steal the air from his lungs without the need of the wind magic he favoured. Rowan’s assessing eyes ran over her, from head to toe, and Aelin watched as they softened. She had indeed caught his attention, noting how his gaze lingered on her middle.

“You and I both know that there is next to nothing there,” Aelin said, her hands running over her stomach.

She wasn’t showing, not yet. Besides a tightness on her stomach that Rowan had been the one to point out, Aelin didn’t visibly look pregnant. The dress however had been cut to accentuate what might be there. With the waistline set just under her bust and a split of darker fabric over the lighter with a small gathering in the centre, it made it look like there was more of swell than there was.  

“Aelin,” her name was said with a reverence. “You look beautiful.”

The smile that appeared on her face only ever came to her when she was with Rowan. There was an uncharacteristic shyness to it, something only he managed to bring out in her. 

“You would say that, our child had bewitched you,” Aelin said, a hand fiddling the dress at her shoulder. 

Rowan stalked towards her, not denying her words. When he reached her, he ran his hands all the way up her bare arms to cup her face. It was hard to miss the look of pure adoration he was giving her. 

“Can I kiss you, or do I have to wait until after your big moment?”

As much as she wanted it, Aelin knew that a kiss from her husband would ruin all Lysandra’s hard work. This kiss would have to be cautious—an attribute neither of them were known for. 

“You’ll have to wait, I’m afraid,” Aelin conceded. 

“I can wait,” Rowan assured her. He stepped back, but his touch lingered, now resting on her stomach. “I do love this dress.”

Aelin rested her hand over his, pushing it flatter against her. “I thought you might.”

There was sharp and precise knocking on their bedroom door, an announcement and a warning. It was a brave person who approached the royal bedroom without invitation. There were only a few daring enough to do so.

“It’s time,” Aedion called, and then he stepped through the door. “Oh good, you’re still dressed.”

Aelin rolled her eyes, picking up her skirts. “Your lady wife would be most upset if I ruined all her hard work.”

“She immediately had to wrangle Rue into a tense compliance, so you would be right,” Aedion explained, holding the door like he was ushering them out. Like if he did not they would stay in that room and find something else to do. It wouldn’t be the first time they would need a chaperone to keep them on task.

But not tonight, Aelin was more than committed to performing her queenly duty and didn’t need encouragement. She took Rowan’s hand and led the way through the castle. 

The Beltane festivities would take place in the courtyard at the base of the castle steps. The gates would be open and the people of the city could celebrate around the fires and alters that had been prepared. Aelin would address them and commence the festivities, using her magic to do so. They would also officially announce the pregnancy to her people, her country—to the world. The prospect was both exciting and mildly terrifying. Rumours had spread, of course, but without an official declaration they had been able to enjoy these early months or relative privacy. Aelin was not ignorant of possibilities the revelation of an heir might bring. Maeve’s words still often rang in her ears. 

More than that, the death of her parents still left scars. It had shown Aelin in the cruellest way that in their world no one was untouchable. And announcing their vulnerabilities might invite unwanted attention from the wrong people. What gave her comfort was not only her own powers, but the force and dedication of her inner court who would give anything to protect what was dear to them, as this child would be. Aelin shook her head to clear such thoughts, a night of celebration was no such time to dwell on something like this. 

“Aelin,” Rowan said softly, no doubt noticing the shift in her demeanour due to her dark thoughts. “Are you all right?” 

“Yes, Buzzard. I’m fine,” Aelin assured him, holding onto his arm to bring them closer together. “My mind just ran away from me, that’s all.”

“Are you sure? Because we can—”

Aelin’s laughter cut him off. “You would like nothing more that to hole ourselves up in our bedroom and ignore the world outside

Rowan gave her the barest hint of a smile. “You say that like it’s a bad idea.” 

“Not bad, just mistimed,” Aelin said. “There will be plenty of time for that later.”

Aelin didn’t allow herself to see his reaction, because whether it was a smirk or a soft growl, it might just convince her to go back upstairs and follow through with his idea. And they were nearly at the front gates. Seeing her court gathered there brought a smile to Aelin’s face. Lysandra and Aedion were indeed trying to contain the whirlwind that was their son, and the Lochan family were in their own little huddle. Lorcan held their son, Korbin’s hand weaving through his father’s hair. Fenrys was there as well conversing with Evangeline, making her smile. This was Aelin’s family—they had been through all the hells imaginable and made it through to meet each other on the other side. By next Beltane there would be another member to join in the celebrations. 

That thought did have her turning to her mate as scenes of their tiny child playing around the firelight filled her mind. Rowan would hold their child safe in his arms, their faces aglow as he smiled at her. It was so clear, so attainable, it made Aelin giddy. Her hand rested on her stomach and the promise that lay there.

“Are we ready?” Aelin announced to the group.

“Are you?” Elide asked. “We only have to stand there and look pretty.”

“I was under the impression that our appealing features were the only reason you accepted us into this court, your Majesty,” Fenrys quipped. “Lorcan the exception of course.”

“We keep him around for his sense of humour, don’t we?” Aelin taunted. That was met it’s a single scowl and plenty of laughter. 

Aelin went to step through the doors, her court behind her, her mate by her side. It took one look at Rowan for him to know what she needed just a little and he lent down and pressed a careful kiss to her cheek. That was all the bolstering she needed as she pushed on the heavy wooden doors. 

Outside it was loud, voices of what might have been hundreds of people milling around the courtyard. Aelin would stand above them at the top of the stairs, a small pile of wood beside her to mimic the larger ones in the courtyard. When stepped forward into the view of everyone a cheer went through the crowd and she knew what they saw. The way her hands cradled her stomach accentuated it. 

“Good people of Orynth,” Aelin projected her voice as much as she could, to reach as many people as he could. “Tonight we celebrate Beltane, to bring blessing and luck to our harvests, to start the seasons anew. These fires will purify and bring life to our fair country. I invite you to place your offerings, seek the blessing you wish for in your heart, and I hope like mine, they come to fruition.” For Aelin this time in her life represented a conciliation of the old and the new, a new beginning. A fitting symbol for Beltane, especially how close fertility was associated with these festivities. Aelin glanced down at her stomach and Rowan took his place by her side. When she looked out to her people she was smiling. “And I am delighted to announce a bright light for our future. I am with child, Terrasen will have an heir and I promise to raise them to love, honour and respect according to what our fair country deserves. I hope that you will join me in celebrating this joyous announcement tonight.”

They’d take her fire back to their homes.

Rowan's hand tightened on her waist as the cheering got louder. Aelin’s own hand became wreathed in flame and it took half a thought to light the half a dozen bonfires. Shouts of excitement went up and warmth bloomed in her chest. These people would take her fire back to their homes, to warm their hearths and sustain them. It served as a promise that Aelin would provide for them as long as that was within her power. It felt so natural to turn into Rowan’s embrace and for him to pull her closer. And even though the city of Orynth looked on, he kissed her. The world fell away in that moment as the hopes for their future burned as bright as the flames below. 

~~~~~

They had retreated to an inner, more secluded courtyard for a private celebration. A large fire burned in the centre of it and there was a smaller one for jumping. After lighting both, Aelin had taken time to sit, eat and drink before she joined in the festivities. Rowan made sure she had everything she needed, his fussiness kicking in after she had confessed that she was hungry. She was full now and ready to join in the dancing. Searching for her chosen partner, she found that Rowan had the small boys over by the food table, one hanging from each arm. It was an endearing sight, and she’d let them play. 

Aelin left her seat and had barely made it three steps when Fenrys appeared in front of her, hand extended as he gave her a courtly bow. “Would you like to dance?”

Aelin returned the gesture with a short curtsy. “Indeed I would.”

Taking the fae male’s hand and the invitation, Aelin smiled. Fenrys spun her into the firelight, leading her through the steps of the dance. Almost immediately the dress became a nuisance and Aelin paused to regrettably and carefully singe off the last few inches of it so that the length wouldn’t hinder her movements. She had no desire to cut her evening short by tripping over or twisting her ankle. 

Fenrys was an excellent partner, and she was almost sorry to leave him when the dance changed and Aelin spun on. Aedion was a little less enthusiastic but she wouldn’t hold that against him. He was more warrior than courtier—always had been. So Aelin circled around the fire, her magic unwittingly reaching out to the flames and making them dance as well. It wasn’t until her feet started to hurt and she felt a little breathless that her mate appeared, intercepting her spin before she could meet whichever partner was next. He immediately slowed the tempo of her movements, bringing her in closer to support some of her weight.

“Rowan,” she chastised. 

“Fireheart, you’re going to trip going that fast,” he said softly, even though Aelin could feel the concern pounding through him.

Aelin held in her snort of laughter. “No one was going to let that happen. I even shortened my dress as a preventative measure.”

Rowan actually stepped back to inspect her work, satisfied it was enough he pulled her back into his space. “You’ll tire yourself out.”

“I deserve to. I’ve been cooped up too long,” Aelin bemoaned—still not admitting that the pace he’d set was exactly what she needed. “You fuss too much.”

“I know,” he added with sincere honesty and utterly shameless. 

“Dance with me, please,” Aelin asked.

Rowan raised an eyebrow. “I am dancing with you.”

“Really dance with me,” Aelin was nearly pleading. “And then I’ll sit down and rest for a while. I promise.”

“I’m powerless to deny you,” was his answer. 

The fiddles and the drums played a steady beat, guiding them through step by step. This time Aelin kept her partner, Rowan’s hand was on her waist and the other clasped her’s. Memories of their first Beltane together rose and Aelin wondered what might have happened if the burnout had not consumed her. Would Rowan have stayed or flown back to his room? Could she have convinced him to jump the fires with her? Or would he have left her to celebrate on her own? Aelin laughed to herself when she realised that might be the likeliest answer. He would have brooded the night away in the shadows while she spent her night by the warmth of the fire, then returned to her cold room. 

“What is so funny, love?” Rowan asked. 

“Just remembering how grumpy you were when we first met,” Aelin said, teasing her mate. “More than ten years and it still astounds me.”

Rowan’s eyes narrowed playfully, any ire lost when his lips twisted upwards. “Was I to blame?”

“I suppose not,” Aelin agreed. 

“What else were you thinking about?” Rowan urged brushing his lips over her temple.

Aelin melted just that little more into him. “Hmm, just the past.”

“And?” He pressed. “Tell me?”

“I was thinking back to our first, and very eventful, Beltane,” Aelin confessed. “And I was wondering what might have happened if the burnout did not happen.”

“Oh, I see.” 

This time it was Aelin who slowed them down. “What would you have done?”

“I would have stayed,” Rowan said. 

Aelin started grinning. “Would you have danced with me?”

With all the utter seriousness only a three hundred year old immortal fae could muster Rowan said, “Absolutely not.”

Aelin’s laughter rang throughout the courtyard as Rowan spun her, the song ending just as she was enveloped in his arms again. They stood there even as another song started and Rowan cupped her face, kissing her sweetly. 

“Is that enough dancing for now?” Rowan asked. 

Aelin caught the underlying meaning of his words. I think it’s time to rest. And this time he may have been right.

“Yes, I think so.” She ignored the small look of triumph on Rowan’s face. 

Rowan led the way to the chairs on the edges of the gathering and then promptly left to get her a drink. In the meantime Ruben and Korbin ran up to her, their faces delighted and covered in soot. 

“And what can I do for you, little lords?” Aelin asked.

“We want to jump the fire!” Ruben said. “Can we? Can you?”

“Of course I can,” Aelin replied, resting a hand on each of their heads. “Are you ready?”

The two boys nodded, thrumming with excitement. Not too far away Aelin willed a fire to appear, small with heatless flames to keep the children safe. Korbin was first, taking a run up that did almost nothing to increase his height over the fire. Ruben wasn’t too far behind, whooping for joy as the flames tickled his feet. Over and over the two boys jumped, Aelin making the embers dance around them. 

Her power thrived, her joy and her magic becoming one in the same. The thing Aelin had once most feared was now celebrated and accepted. What she had fought for and dreamed of had come to be. The babe growing within her was part of that, and her greatest joy of all. 

“Aelin,” the sighing chastisement came from beside her and she knew she would see the long suffering face of her mate. 

She gave him a look of innocence. “Yes, dearest husband.”

“You said you would rest,” he told her.

“This little fire is nothing,” Aelin said with a twist of her hand that had the flame moving the same way. “How could I say no to them?”

Just then the two boys jumped at the same time, hand in hand. Rowan didn’t say anything more as he handed a drink over, his eyes lingering on the children. He was no doubt imagining what she did, a small silver-headed child between them, laughing as they too made the jump for good luck. 

“Just a little while longer, I promise,” Aelin said as she tugged on Rowan’s hand to bring him down into the seat beside her.

“Of course, Fireheart.” Rowan sat, the two of them happy to just observe for a while. 

In the end, it took the children being collected by their parents before Aelin let the flames go. Lady and Lord Lochan retired to their rooms for the evening. Aedion led his family back to the fire for another dance. For a while longer Aelin was content to stay where she was and just watch. The heat of the day was gone and the flames provided a comfortable warmth to her bared skin. Aelin’s hand dragged comfortingly over her stomach. The motion was soothing and was guiding her exhaustion to the surface. But she didn’t want to retire for the night, not just yet.

“One more dance?” Rowan had all but read her thoughts. 

Aelin just nodded, letting Rowan pull her from her seat. The music had slowed now, it was no longer the frenzied melodies that urged quick steps and reckless movements. Rowan spun her in a slow circle, but quick enough that the skirts of her dress fluttered about her feet. Aelin draped her arms around his neck, and his hands found a place low on her hips. 

They did little more than sway to the music, foreheads pressed together. For just a little while longer Aelin wanted to bask in the warmth of the firelight and the perfection that this moment held.

~~~~

[tonydaddingham]

i know ive had like 16 apoplexies in the last 4 hours but im really raking through the weeds on this one: let's talk ✨angel costumes✨ im going to leave the modern ones alone for a moment, perhaps ill take a look at them later on, but for the moment im essentially going to focus on the job minisode.

so let's go in order of what we would understand is the heaven hierarchy. first up we have lord farquaad gabriel:

key points:

heavy gold collar embellishment

slight gold cuffs

superhero cape

accentuated waistline

purple eyes as per

biggest and Baddest angel around, michael:

key points:

heavy gold collar embellishment

heavier gold cuffs

more noticeable gold makeup accents

my bamf-y bOY:

key points:

(im presuming it might be down to lighting but his costume is noticeably duller on earth, which kinda fits with how his general daily outfit elevates in s1 when he discorporated, but fundamentally retains the same features)

heavy gold collar embellishments

gathered sleeves with heavy gold cuffs

accentuated waistline

snazzy little gather of material on the waist, also embellished in gold

the light of my life, muriel:

key points:

simple gold collar embellishment but embellishment nonetheless

similarly small gold detail on cuffs

some gold makeup accents (i think eyeshadow?)

and these other angels (im going to call them the Sycophant Squad bc why not) in the background:

key points:

similar to muriel; small gold embellishments on collars and cuffs, possibly even less than muriel's, but otherwise unadorned as far as we can tell

(also special shout out that the representation in this show is unparalleled, mad behaviour i love it sm).

so we could attribute aziraphale's costume to him not only being of relatively high rank (when you take into account that there are 10 million angels milling around somewhere) in the GO!angels hierarchy, and to boot he's one of the main characters. but... his angelwear is almost so ornate that it looks like he actually genuinely belongs in the archangel cohort?

ive remarked on it a couple of times but god still seems to be present in heaven in the job narrative compared to 'modern day': The Lighting Change Is Everything. and when you take into account that his costume before the Beginning used to look like this:

the impression i get is that between this point and job, he may have had a promotion? now i get that neil has said before that fashion changes in heaven, but the general themes (however individualistic the costumes are depending on the character) seem to follow the same trend: the more embellishment and detail in their design, the higher the rank.

the above picture of aziraphale and AWCW may well be because it's simply long before job and the fashion was simpler (ie had more important things to do), so i won't double down on it, but i do feel there might be a little something-something there.

in any case, we know that muriel is below the rank of a throne or dominion. neil has said that the angel hierarchy in good omens runs like this, but nothing that explicitly says about thrones or dominions; but from christian angelology (which he said he and terry based their hierarchy iirc, he said in another ask somewhere), they are in the show at least high ranking below seraphim and cherubim, presumably below capital-A-Archangels, and presumably higher than aziraphale, a principality.

neil also alludes in the ask that muriel is one of the lower tiers/choirs; so in this, we have our scales - muriel's dress being the lowest tier, and gabriel's being the highest tier. when we look at aziraphale's dress, it is ornate, and it is Fancy; is this representative of the midpoint in angel attire (ie a principality, more or less), or could it be indicative of a higher rank at the time?

idk where im going with this in particular, but it just seems very strange to me that there would be a two-step system to how the angels dress - that everyone from presumably principality rank and above gets lovely gold things and fancy dress patterns, and then small gold detail but otherwise plain gowns if below a principality. again, might just be that aziraphale is a Main Character, but it's fun to speculate right?✨

[jewellery-box]

WHITE COTTON SUMMER DRESS, 1830s

Tabby weave with white French knot needlework in center front panel and along hem in swirl and serpentine design, wide U neckline with deep collar extending over shoulders, full sleeves shirred at top and above cuffs, raised waistline with narrow inset waistband, skirt gathered to waistband with 5" fold to inside revealing pre-embroidered construction, two finished pocket slits, needlework in swirls and serpentine design, drawstring back closure at waist and neckline, no lining.

[eolewyn1010]

Downton Abbey Fashion 26 - 1920s indoors fashion

Third season is when several of Edith’s looks start to have more glamor than Mary’s. Not consistently, but Mary is more prone to a little conservative clothing.

This looks a lot like the most boring black dress in the world that Mary wore a season ago, but the comparison is unkind to this one. First of all because burgundy is a much more interesting color standing on its own, secondly because the upper sleeves have a certain volume to them that gives them some material to swoosh around, and thirdly because this skirt does what I wish the skirt insertions on my self-made dress would have done – a nice, clean point of gathering down the front from a drop-waist sash that is similarly pleated. Good choice going with the simple overlong necklace, too.

Grey dress with no contrast color, but at least the skirt has pockets. The top has some white beading on it, leaning into a geometrical pattern here because it’s 1920, you guys, and art deco rules the world.

An example of Mary’s more conservative clothes, this blouse is kept pretty simple. Cream chiffon, a little pleating on the front, the well-known squiggly lines embroidered all over the yoke. The shape of the yoke and neckline makes this look a little dowdy imo, but whatever; I guess she has to give off some domesticity vibes here.

A black house dress; despite the color and the rather covering design, she does not wear this in mourning. Long straight sleeves and a small point collar, but we do have some embroidery in an almost electric green to loosen up the black blob effect: Meanders around the cuffs, collar and down the front, and then these little clover-like ornaments out of heart shapes.

Poor lighting, but I think this one is pale blue. I like that the fabric has a subtle stripey look to it, giving this very plain blouse a little extra. What else is there to say? Gathered sleeves, cuffs… And look at the shoulder seams: There is no such ruffling to the front as was quite popular during the last few years; this is cut to be smooth and streamlined.

So is this one, and it looks even more so because Mary isn’t wearing the hem gathered into the skirt. The sleeves are only half-length this time, but like the previous shirt, this burgundy silk one doesn’t really have a collar, just a neckline, buttoned and framed with a couple of pin tucks to both sides.

This is one of the dresses that I find a little fascinating, despite it being grey trimmed in grey. First of all, the sleeves with these long, buttoned cuffs that go up most of the lower arm. Then, the buttons on the front which I’m not sure if they are just decoration or if the front actually is buttoned up. And there is the hip region, under a baggy shirt separated with a drop waist as 1920s do, but the structuring still offsets the hips from the waist in a way that isn’t necessarily typical for the time’s fashion.

I first thought this was pajamas; the look is so casual and loose. But no, Mary is socially acceptable in this because she’s pregnant and pregnancy stays aren’t really a thing anymore. Like most of Mary’s red looks, this did stick in my mind; at least the darling neckline did. That’s some not overly complicated yet effective use of a little ribbon!

At first sight, I thought this was Mary’s honeymoon suit. But why would she wear an expensive get-up twice? Anyway, this has a similar color to said suit, a lovely forget-me-not blue plus a silk collar with a white or silver floral print on it. The drop waist looks like it has some gathering done to it.

--------------

Over to Edith and art deco shirts! Heh, I love this first shot. Because we know shirts like this; Edith, Sybil, and Lavinia have worn them throughout the previous two seasons. This isn’t a lot different – the principle is the same, wild art deco fabric, framed on the neckline, the half-long sleeves and the hem with a wide ribbon. The difference is the shape: This doesn’t end in the waistline, but drops all the way down to the hip bones, and instead of puffed à la pigeon chest, the front is smoothed out.

A knit cardigan, not much to look at. I liked the blue one last season better. This is very grey, and very shapeless. I suppose it’s quite cozy though, which might be needed if Edith has a meltdown at her father. Can we stop acting as if the family had been opposed to her relationship with Anthony Strallan because he was older than her? He was considered a perfectly acceptable match before his arm got rendered useless in the war. This storyline wasn’t about the age difference; it was about Fellowes’ latent ableism.

This orange is a tad redder than what Edith usually goes with, but I won’t complain; I like this blouse shape with the voluminous sleeves and the square neckline. Edith tends to wear cute colorful bead necklaces to these simple shirts, plus this one has a tone-in-tone embroidered drop waistband to brag with.

So we’ll get another one right away. And this one has the lovely tone-in-tone embroidery around the neck. Plus an adorable hat that I’m sure I’ve seen before, but have I commented on it before? Embroidered hatbands for the win.

Also a blouse Edith wears a lot, usually peeking out from beneath her pretty coats. This one has a round neckline, and I love the fabric; a striped silk damask, I would guess. And there’s this adorable little bit of beading on her shoulders!

I am, however, out of things to say about white and ivory shirts. It’s trying to put in a little interest with that punch-hole square and satin underlay. Eh. Doesn’t do much for me. Next!

One dress I inexplicably like despite not enjoying orange as much as Edith does. Well, it might be an ensemble rather that a dress; I’m never quite sure if the dress and shirt are separate or one piece, especially with the layering going on there. It’s a typical 1920s dress, an adventurous fabric print and a simple, streamlined cut, but the skirt has some volume in it that makes it fall nicely.

Edith wears this salmon-peach shirt with the tie collar several times over this season and the next. The pattern print is quite cute, but admittedly, I like this better as the background of a walking suit or other ensemble. But this gets my love for Edith’s knotted headscarfs!

[professorpski]

1930s Autumnal Velvet from Indiana University

I have long thought browns don't get any respect and this delightful printed velvet dress confirmed my belief that they deserve a lot. This is a soft silk and/or rayon velvet printed in brown, orange and tan which was then trimmed in brown velvet and gold metal for the tie and the belt. The pictures do not do it justice as it simply glows with color because of the nature of velvet which catches the light so beautifully. I would happily wear it come fall.

The collar and tie are one of the many clever necklines invented during the 1930s. This one has tunnels around the sides of the neck to hold the tie which is then tacked at the back and shaped into a bow in the front with the help of the metal piece. The bow is large and shaped and stiffened with some kind of interfacing inside. The waistline returned to its normal spot by the mid-1930s and hemlines dropped to lower calf, but skirts always had some kind of flare below the knee whether from a pleat, a godet or the cut of several gored panels. There was always a little flirty swing as a woman walked, and in velvet, the skirt would catch the light in a playful way. You can see how the bodice is shaped with a piece that comes up from the waistline in a soft curve and then gathers above to shape the bustline. It has long sleeves gathered at the cuffs, and a long shaped skirt.

Being in velvet, which is a delicate fabric despite its thickness, this is a dressy daytime outfit, something for a luncheon or a tea or an afternoon concert. The colors make me think of fall, and back to school events. Which makes this a good time to share it, I thought.

I had the pleasure of seeing highlights of the Elizabeth Sage Historic Costume Collection, Indiana University at Bloomington in the company of the Curator/Director Kelly Richardson. This collection is part of the Sidney and Lois Eskenazi School of Art, Architecture + Design about which you can find more here: https://eskenazi.indiana.edu/index.html

[londontsukino]

I don’t own a dress form, so some unaesthetic pics of the first successful dress I’ve sewn (including a liner!) and some sewing geekery under the cut.

Fourth ever zipper installation and first invisible zipper. I misaligned the tops of the zipper, which resulted in a small gap at the top and the waist seams being slightly off, but I’m pretty happy with how it turned out (and no special zipper foot involved). And I don’t know where the buttonhole guide for the old Kenmore sewing machine is, so hand sewn buttonholes for me. I ordered a pack of covered button blanks to make matching fabric buttons.

I hand gathered the waistline for the skirt, but the layers of fabric were so thick in places, that the Kenmore was like “wtf are you doing to me” and skipped stitches in multiple areas when it was time to attach the skirt to the bodice. I ended up doing a weird version of a backstitch by hand to reinforce the waist. And because I don’t care if the inside looks a little weird since no one will see it, I hand stitched bias tape to close up the raw edges.

I used dress option A from Simplicity Pattern 9164, and modified it to include a side seam pocket, a skirt liner, and I didn’t use the included pattern for the skirt itself. Instead I just used the entire width of the fabric, one panel for the front and one for the back. Overall, this pattern was easy-ish to follow as a beginner, but one does have to read the directions pretty well. For background, this is the third rectangle/dirndl-style skirt I’ve done, so that wasn’t very difficult. I’ve attempted making a bodice before when I tried to make a collared shirt for my mom’s dog and one too-big 40s style dress, so I had a little bit of experience with that.

It might be me being a beginner at sewing, but the instructions for the collar were on the confusing side. What the instructions said vs the diagrams showed and what would make sense when actually sewing the collar didn’t match up. I ended up remaking the collar according to how I did it with the dog shirt and then following Simplicity’s directions to attach the collar to the neckline. The inside still looks a bit weird, and I’m going to veer a little from the pattern directions the next time I make this dress to see if it makes things easier because there was still some awkward hand sewing. Thankfully the sleeves included multiple points to match up with the armholes, so that made setting them a breeze compared to doing the collar.

There’s some weird sections but I’m very happy with how it turned out. I ordered a belt making kit, so once that arrives I’ll be making a matching belt using the leftover fabric I used for the collar and sleeve cuffs.

[luckyfortune]

About Urban Streetwear and Tech-Inspired Looks We Love

Written by Allison Ruiz

Hi, I’m Allison and for this week’s blog post we will be covering women’s urban streetwear essentials and interchangeable outfit pieces. But first things first- What IS Urban Streetwear?! Streetwear -or urbanwear- is defined as a casual clothing style worn especially by members of various urban youth subcultures (Oxford Languages). Urban fashion is inspired by urban environment and city living.

Urban streetwear reflects individual personalities that are ever-changing and unique, gathering elements of different subcultures like hip hop, skateboarding, sports, and casual wear. With the growing popularity of streetwear trends, we figured we would weigh in with our own observations on what makes for a well-balanced and choice urban streetwear outfit.

This week I will be going over some of my favorite tech-inspired urban streetwear. Let’s get into it.

Cargo Skirts and Tech Pants

Source: RUSSH

This look has been on the radar for a while now, giving more variety for choices in loose-fitting bottoms for many urban streetwear looks. Cargo skirts can be styled with sporty and casual clothing like t-shirts and sneakers or a variety of styled tops that can give a nice silhouette. This trendy item resurfaced after miss Bella Hadid styled it back in 2021, and it is barely hitting the markets in stores such as Urban Outfitter and Amazon.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Bella 🦋 (@bellahadid)

Source: Instagram

Here’s another cargo skirt/parachute maxi skirt option from ASOS for my petite ladies as well.

Source: ASOS

Tech Pants

Tech pants are technical pants that are made with a mixture of fabrics and made to provide moisture-wicking properties and easy of movement as well as all around comfort. They have a baggy/loose-fitting fit and look like cargo pants. Here’s one from Urban Outfitters.

Source: Urban Outfitters

Here’s another cool tech pant made by Free People- are they tech pants or are they work scrubs? Are they for the lab or b-ball attire? We don’t care, we love them.

Source: Free People

Okay, that’s nice, but where’s the variety?

When it comes to urban streetwear, the best thing you can do is vary the looks by playing with different shapes and silhouettes. You don’t always necessarily need to wear baggy bottoms, you can use straight leg pants or even a variety of shorts or skirts, even chino pants. Here’s a few other looks for inspiration.

Here we have an OOFTD streetstyle look from Milan Fashion Week of 2019. Although it’s not recent, it’s still relevant and noteworthy! Look at the contrast between the semi-casual sweater mixed with the jogger cargo pants and boots.

Source: Fashion Week Daily

Another option is to mix it up with knits and contrasting outerwear to really complement an outfit. Here’s a noteworthy look from Copenhagen Fashion week in 2023. Notice how the knit set still has utility wear details such as the buttons on the hem of the sweater and the drawstring waistline of the knit skirt and on the sweater arm cuffs. This is a great example of urban streetwear with tech inspired elements.

Source: Elle Fashion Week

Another amazing ensemble from the 2023 Copenhagen Fashion Week streetstyle looks is this fashionable denim on denim look with some unique jeans and a Carhartt messenger bag. Not quite a Britney and Justin moment- it’s got a fresh modern flare with the white denim vest and blue denim patchwork.

Source: Elle Fashion Week

And lastly, you can always make a blast to past into earlier generation’s style archives, like we see here with athletic tracksuit pants, from the late 90’s to today.

Source: Pinterest and Pinterest

Honorary Mention of Microsoft’s ACTUAL Tech Pants!

Microsoft came out with their own tech cargo pants and they have lots of extra pockets and a zip off legs option. They are also 100% cotton ripstop and very cool!

Source: https://www.zdnet.com/article/microsoft-is-selling-tech-pants-for-150-wait-what-are-tech-pants/

I hope I convinced you to try out some new styles and inspired you to create more outfit combinations. Next time we will be looking at more versatile options for more urban streetwear looks.

Thank you for reading.

Written By Allison Ruiz

Works Cited:

Luxo

October England

Urban Matter

[andrealeocoutures-blog]

Matching Couture Wedding Dresses with the Perfect Hairstyle

Every bride envisions herself looking flawless on her wedding day—a harmonious blend of gown, hair, and details. Couture wedding dresses are the ultimate in luxury bridal fashion, offering an elevated sense of style that’s both heirloom-worthy and unforgettable. But as any bride-to-be knows, it’s not just the dress that completes the look—hairstyles play a key role in enhancing the overall effect.

So, how does a trendy bride of 2024 choose the perfect hairstyle to complement a couture wedding dress? The answer lies in balancing the gown’s design with a hairdo that elevates and completes the vision. Here’s a guide to pairing some of Andrea & Leo's most luxurious couture wedding dresses with the ideal hairstyles, ensuring brides achieve that breathtaking, once-in-a-lifetime look.

The Dramatic Ruff Collar & Tulle Sleeves Gown

Picture this: a gown featuring a ruff collar gathered at the neckline, flowing into long tulle sleeves that bubble around the arm, ending in a delicate lace cuff. The sheer bodice is adorned with lace appliques that trickle down the layered A-line skirt. Bridal buttons along the back add a touch of tradition to this otherwise modern masterpiece.

Hairstyle Match: With such an ornate neckline, a sleek, polished low chignon is the perfect choice. A few delicate tendrils around the face soften the look, ensuring it feels bridal without competing with the gown’s grandeur.

The Baroque Elegance Strapless Mermaid Gown

This strapless mermaid gown is all about drama and sensuality. With glittering baroque motifs, a daring sweetheart neckline, and off-the-shoulder detachable scallop straps, this couture wedding dress screams opulence. The addition of a rhinestone bow belt cinching the waistline adds femininity, while the boned corset ensures both style and comfort.

Hairstyle Match: For this luxurious mermaid silhouette, a classic Old Hollywood wave is the perfect pairing. Let the waves cascade over one shoulder to highlight the off-the-shoulder straps while also maintaining a sense of elegance and glamour.

The Sweetheart Neckline Gown with Dimensional Floral Appliques

This gown, with its layered tulle and dimensional floral appliques, offers a blend of elegance and contemporary flair. The bodice’s sweetheart neckline and thin straps are balanced by a long tulle overlay that adds a touch of drama to the dress. This couture wedding dress is ideal for a bride who wants to feel both modern and timeless.

Hairstyle Match: A relaxed half-up, half-down hairstyle with soft waves would enhance the casual yet sophisticated tone of this gown. A few delicate hairpins or a minimalist veil would be a nice finishing touch.

The Organza Mermaid Dress with Ruffled Tulle Details

This fitted organza mermaid dress with lace applique is all about the details. The strapless sweetheart neckline is complemented by ruffled tulle elements, while the removable Marie Sleeves add a romantic flourish.

Hairstyle Match: A timeless high ponytail with soft waves or gentle curls adds the right amount of modernity to this otherwise classic mermaid gown. It keeps the hair out of the face while still looking bridal, elegant, and utterly chic.

When it comes to pairing couture wedding dresses with the perfect hairstyle, it’s all about finding a balance. The dress and the hair should work together to create a harmonious and unforgettable bridal look. Whether you’re going for drama, romance, or timeless elegance, your hairstyle should enhance—not overshadow—your stunning couture gown. And with Andrea & Leo’s collection, every bride is guaranteed to find a gown worthy of her dream wedding day.

For more information about Formal Dresses Wholesale and Prom Dresses Wholesale please visit:- Andrea & Leo Couture

[retropickens]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: vtg Blue Green Batik Ethnic Floral Rayon Long Sleeve Dress Cottagecore Modest M.

[nurselaurenatl]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: BALTIC BORN Tina Velvet Short Dress in Mauve NEW.

[charitosbazaar]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Printed abstract colorful patterns flowy maxi pullover dress women size XS/S.

[jqui62]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Calista Ruffle Square Neck Maxi Dress.