#I was wearing this petticoat or something ? anyways the outfit was cute

[kavehater]

Gosh I’m looking at my uni student id card and I white washed myself so hard in my picture I look as white as alhaitham literally 😭

[a-killer-obsession]

Congratulations on the follower milestones! I can't believe how quickly you went from 250 to 300!

giving two options so you can pick whichever inspires you more, and so I don't spend 3 hours trying to pick between the prompts when it's already 3:30am

gender neutral or he/him for AFAB reader if possible

F13 (FZ13 if that's more comfortable) or W17

please and thank you <3

Laid Bear

Prompt: Mink Reader + First Time Additional Tags: afab reader, she/her pronouns, virgin!bepo, naturally a bit omegaversey since they're bears, oral (giving and receiving), masturbation, p in v sex, breeding kink, cockwarming WC: 3.8k

Event Masterlist

🔞 Minors DNI 🔞

You could smell him before you could see him, that special scent unique to predator type minks, the scent that played to your instincts the most and made your nose twitch, ears perking up under your hoodie, tail wagging excitedly under your skirt against your better judgement. It was just as well you were seated in a corner booth, hiding away at the edge of the derelict bar where you hoped nobody would bother you. It'd been a long time since you'd smelt another mink, even longer since you'd left home to explore the world. You'd begun this journey with the goal in mind of finding your ancestral homeland, having been born far away from the mythical Zou, which at this point you weren't even sure existed as none of the minks you encountered seemed to know anything about it. Not that you'd met a great deal of them, they seemed rare even in the New World, which is why it always got you so excited to catch their scent.

You had no doubt they could smell you too, and you hoped they would be friendly, and handsome, they certainly smelt like a fertile male. You had no doubt they could smell you too, but you let out pheromones of your own anyway, advertising yourself as a fertile female predator mink. Specifically, you were a grizzly bear, but the type of mink that looked more like a human hybrid than a bipedal animal, as females of your kind often were. Your skin was a deep rich brown to match your hair, your nose was a cute little button at the end of a shallow muzzle, and you had two cute little fuzzy ears on your head, usually hidden by a hat or hoodie. You also had sharp claws and a fluffy tail, forcing you to wear fluffy skirts with petticoats to hide it. When your ears were visible, the skirts made you look like you were just a very dedicated lolita with a preference for bear themed outfits, which to be fair did make you look very cute.

The main door to the bar opened and your eyes were wide with curiosity, a tall man with a fluffy white hat and large sword resting on his shoulder entering first, scanning the room carefully. You caught a mischievous grin on his face as he caught your eye, turning to his companions yet to enter and whispering something you couldn't hear over the noise of the bar even with your very sensitive ears. Two men in white boiler suits entered behind him, pulling someone along with them, a fluffy white paw in each hand as they dragged in a large polar bear mink, of the more bipedal animal variety. You'd never even met another bear type mink outside of your parents, and your thighs pressed together unconsciously as he stood at his full height and scanned the room, at least seven feet tall and impressive even from across the room. He looked shy though, the claws at the tips of his index fingers tapping together as his friends released his paws, his fluffy ears flattened against his head as he caught your eye and blushed, the pink visible through his white fur. It made you blush in response, and you pulled down your hoodie, letting him see your own ears, almost identical to his, save for the colour. His ears perked as he saw yours, realising you were also a bear mink, a sweet smile forming on his face that told you perhaps you were the first he'd met as well.

The man with the sword pointed in your direction, and the men in boiler suits set to work forcing the mink towards you, one of them pulling on his arm while the other pushed him. He was wearing a matching boiler suit but in orange, and you noticed now the matching smiling icons embroidered on the suits, a jolly roger perhaps? Looking at the man with the sword again he did look vaguely familiar, perhaps you'd seen him on a bounty poster, you'd never been good at remembering human faces. They seemed friendly enough though, so pirates or not you didn't let it bother you. He approached you first, giving you a friendly smile before helping the other men push the hesitant polar bear into the booth seat opposite you, the bear letting out a nervous little whine that made you giggle, your giggle making him blush further.

“This is Bepo,” the man said, gesturing to the bear, “he's a little shy but I think you'll enjoy his company. And you are?”

“[Y/n],” you offered your hand, and he gave it a firm shake before turning to the bear, leaning with his arm against the bear's shoulder, giving him a reassuring slap on his chest. “Bepo, this is [y/n]. Just like we talked about, okay? Just be yourself, we'll be on the other side of the bar if you need us, but do your best to be brave”

He gave you another kind smile before he and the other two men left, the one with a funny hat that looked like a whale giving Bepo a playful smack on the shoulder before the three of them took up residence in a booth on the opposite side of the bar, making you feel a little like teenagers on a chaperoned date. Bepo was clicking his index claws together, looking anywhere except at you, so you took it upon yourself to get up and move to his side of the seating, forcing him to shuffle over. This wasn't your first time with another mink, you'd laid with a few humans as well, but he was giving off a nervous energy that told you he was just a sweet little virgin, and you wondered if he'd ever even kissed. You decided you would need to take the lead here, if you wanted to get a taste of the bear who was letting off such an alluring scent. He probably didn't even know how good he smelled.

“Hi there, big guy,” you smiled, “what's got a big strong bear like you so nervous? Little ol me? I won't bite, unless you want me to.” The suggestive comment made him squeak, and you couldn't help but let out a playful giggle, the sound music to his ears, making them twitch.

“Sorry,” he said shyly, his voice a lot higher pitched than you expected, “I've never met another mink, not since I was a kid… this is all very new to me”

“Really? That's quite surprising, I thought you were a pirate,” you hummed, “surely you see all kinds of people in your travels”

“I like to stay on the ship,” he replied quietly, “people make me nervous”

“That's okay sweetheart, I understand that. The hairless minks are so very strange, aren't they?” You smiled, “I'm very glad you ventured off the ship today then, what convinced your handsome self to make an exception?”

He blushed heavily at the compliment, his eyes flicking to you for just a moment before returning to anywhere else as he sunk into his chair. “I could… I could smell you from the ship. You smelled so pretty…”

“Do I live up to my scent, sweet thing?” You purred, running a claw under his chin and forcing him to look at you, “you're so very handsome, you certainly live up to your scent. Do you think I'm pretty?”

“Y-yes,” he mumbled, you could hear his heart racing in his chest, “you are… so very beautiful”

“I can feel your friend's eyes burning the back of my head,” you hummed, letting your hand fall and resting it against his thick leg. He jumped a little at the motion, looking down at your hand and back up at you, a cloud of arousal wafting from him in his scent at the small touch. “I have a room upstairs, you wanna come hang out? Have some tea?”

He looked past you to his presumably captain, who gave him an encouraging thumbs up, before turning back to give you a shy nod. You stood and took his paw in yours, and you could hear the cheers of his friends over the crowd as you led him upstairs. You held his hand all the way to the room, it was shaky in yours, you could tell how nervous he was, the poor sweetheart. At the very least you hoped he would be more comfortable away from the crowd sipping some soothing tea, and you wanted a chance to talk to him better without having to shout over all the drunk voices.

The bed bowed and creaked under his weight as you led him to sit on it, not having any other good seating options, while you made him some tea with the small kitchenette. It was really just a cabinet and mini fridge with a tray of complimentary teas and coffee, and a small box of milk, the water in your jug fetched earlier from your small attached bathroom. “Milk and sugar?” You hummed.

“Ah- just two sugars, sorry,” he replied.

“No need to apologise, my sweet,” you smiled as you stirred in sugar and brought him the tea. He immediately took a sip, scalding his tongue and sticking it out to cool it, making you giggle. You could see his eyes light up at the sound, and he gave you a shy smile that made your heart flutter as you sipped your own tea, sitting cross-legged on the bed beside him. “So, you said you knew minks when you were a kid though, right? Do you know Zou?”

“I was born there,” he replied, making you excitedly discard your tea on the side table and raise yourself on your knees to pull at the clothing over his shoulder.

“What's it like? Is it paradise for minks like the legends say? Are there lots of minks there? Can you take me there?” You shouted in quick succession, making the poor bear flinch. “Ah, sorry!” You let yourself fall back to sit on the balls of your feet, “Got a little carried away…”

“I don't really remember it much,” he replied sadly, “I left when I was eight to find my brother, it's been so long”

“Is it true it's on the back of an elephant?” You asked curiously.

“It is!” He smiled, happy he could at least answer one question.

“That's so cool!” Your eyes were practically glittering.

“I take it you were not born there then?” He asked, sipping more tea.

“No, my parents never explained what they were doing away from Zou, but I've been searching for it ever since they died,” you hummed. Your hand fell idly to his thigh, stroking it without thinking as your mind was deep in thought. You didn't even realise you were doing it till he made a little squeak, arousal hitting your sensitive nose, though his body was notably tense and stiff. “Oh, sorry,” you mumbled, removing your hand, “I won't touch you if you don't want me too. I guess I get a little handsy at times”

“Most minks are like that, I think,” he replied, “I was wondering if… ah, no, I don't think I can say it, sorry…”

“You're so cute,” you smiled, “do you want me to touch you, Bepo? I can, if you want me to. I'd like to. You're very handsome, and you smell nice”

The blush on Bepo's face was back as he gave a quiet nod, your hand quickly returning to his thigh. “Perhaps we would be more comfortable without our clothes, I for one feel like my tail is being squished”

“Oh, okay,” he agreed innocently. The two of you stood and undressed yourselves, and you stretched pleasantly as you were freed of the suffocating clothing, twitching your tail happily. Minks didn't really need clothing, you had a thin layer of fur over most of your body, only really hairless at the centre of your torso from your belly up to your neck and face, and also your inner thighs. Your nipples were covered by fur, your genitals tucked away between your legs just like a human female, while male minks like Bepo had a sheath that hid their genitals. As a less human-like mink, Bepo's entire body was covered in thick fur, visible now that he let his boiler suit pool on the floor. Without clothing you both looked far more like bears, and you smiled fondly at him.

The thing with minks was that they were far more intune to their instincts than a human, especially the instincts of the animal they were modelled after. This was especially true of minks during mating, though with experience they were able to get more control over their instincts. Bepo lacked any experience, from what you could tell, which meant he would be entirely at the whims of his instincts if you wished to mate with him. This worked in your favour, being that grizzly bears and polar bears sometimes got together in the wild, the mating rituals of each species being relatively similar. You stepped towards him and brushed your muzzle against his neck, nipping at it to signal your interest, before fleeing playfully to the other side of the room. You could hear his heavy foot falls as he chased you, successfully having activated the more feral part of his brain and initiating the play that was the bear equivalent of foreplay. It would be a difficult balance, weighing what his instincts wanted versus what would make the more human part of him feel good, but it was a challenge you were more than interested in pursuing.

He caught you as you scrambled across the bed, pinning you down as you turned to face him. Your muzzle met his and you kissed him hard, his mouth immediately opening so you could chase his tongue with yours, feeling his cock unsheathing against your stomach. You reached down between your bodies and wrapped your hand around it, rubbing your thumb over the head to collect his precum and using it as lubrication to stroke him. His head fell against your shoulder, making excited barks and chuffs as you stroked him. Like many minks, he had a sort of hybrid cock; long and supported by a bone like a polar bear, but thicker and with a more bulbous head like a human. If you were a human female he would be far too large for you, his cock proportional to his massive body, but with your bear anatomy you were well suited to take him, though it would be quite a delicious stretch.

You were a little surprised in truth at how quickly he had unsheathed for you, he was certainly eager to mate, the air now thick with your joint arousal, making your noses twitch as you both made little growls. You nuzzled and chewed on his neck, making him whine, and you pushed a hand against his chest to indicate you wanted him to roll off you. He laid back against the mattress, his chest heaving, and you kissed him hard again as you straddled his thick legs, running your tongue over his sharp teeth and smoothing the appendage against his.

“Is this okay Bepo?” You asked him, lowering yourself down the bed until you were laying between his legs, your breath brushing against his cock as you stroked it, “can I taste you? You smell so nice, I'd like to taste you”

“Ah- yes-” he whined, covering his face shyly but watching you with one eye that peeked between his fingers. You giggled at his adorable shyness and ran your tongue up the long length of his cock, still stroking the base with your hand as you took the tip in your mouth. His tongue was clicking to indicate his pleasure as you bobbed your head, mixed with little whines as his paw came to rest against the back of your head, not putting any pressure but playing occasionally with your ears and scratching at the base of them, at the sensitive spot only those with ears like yours knew about.

You couldn't hope to take all of his cock in your mouth, but what you managed was more than enough for him anyway, the hot warm feeling of your mouth around him being entirely unfamiliar and making him squirm cutely. “Ah- ah- [y/n],” Bepo whined, “I feel strange- hnng-”

“Let go, Bepo, cum for me,” you said sweetly, the bear immediately mewling as thick cum dripped from his cock, which you eagerly lapped up, letting the rest spurt directly into your mouth. He was panting hard as you let him go with a pop, licking cum from your hand and running your tongue over your muzzle to clean it.

“That- that was incredible,” he huffed, “can I make you feel like that?”

“You can,” you grinned mischievously, “come put your head between my legs, I'll guide you”

Shyness entirely lost as he became dedicated to making you feel good too, he quickly repositioned himself, the two of you finding a comfortable position that accommodated his large body by seating yourself at the edge of the bed while he knelt in front of you on the floor. He looked up at you eagerly from between your legs, and you pet his head lovingly, scratching behind his ears the same way he had for you. He stuck out his dark tinted tongue and ran it up your thigh, before using his large paws to hold your legs open, claws threatening to pierce but he was careful to not let them. Your own hand came between your legs, spreading your labia for him to see, playing with your clit and occasionally dipping a finger inside yourself. Your scent was driving him wild as you masturbated for him, so close to his nose, and he couldn't help but press his muzzle against your cunt and take a deep inhale, chuffing as your slick coated his nose and caught in his fur before his tongue came out again to take a wide swipe from asshole to mound.

“There you go,” you praised as his licks became more focused, lapping at the dripping honey at your entrance and rolling his tongue over your clit, “that feels nice Bepo. Your tongue feels so nice and rough against my pussy, why don't you suck on the bump part a little?”

You moaned as he enthusiastically followed your guidance, focusing harsh sucks and flicks of his tongue against your clit while your hands buried in the thick fur on top of his head. “So good,” you moaned, “you can- hnng- you can put your tongue inside me if you want”

His eyes were dark and hungry as he looked up at you, tongue dragging down to where he'd seen you finger yourself and pushing the wet appendage in, ignoring the resistance as he bullied the thick muscle inside you. You screamed but the way you held his head against your cunt told him it wasn't a pained scream, so he started licking at your inner walls, chuffing and growling deep in his chest as he drank up all of your slick greedily, making messy and inexperienced motions until he accidentally brushed against your g-spot and felt your entire body tense. He zeroed in on it instinctively, making you moan and writhe as he abused it with his tongue, until you pulled his fur hard and came without warning on his tongue. His eyes widened as he felt the gushing release and he lapped it up greedily, making you squirm at the overstimulation, unable to keep yourself upright anymore as you twitched helplessly against the bed until he was satisfied he'd drunk up everything you had to offer.

His instincts were in full play now, and you could smell his precum as his cock unsheathed again, standing tall over you in a way that made you shiver at just how big he was. He looked entirely the dangerous predator that he was, that shy little polar bear you met earlier now entirely gone. Knowing exactly what he wanted, you rolled over and put your ass in the air, tail twitching invitingly. He wasted no time in draping himself over your back, nipping at your neck and making deep growls that vibrated through your chest as he gripped your thighs and rut his hips towards you. As soon as his cock made contact with your dripping pussy he was burying himself to the hilt, the air knocked out of you as he immediately began a merciless pace as his instincts clawed at him to breed you.

He continued to nuzzle and nip at you as he slammed into your much smaller body, your pussy stinging from the sudden stretch before it melted to pure pleasure, moaning and clawing at the sheets below you, making tears in the fabric and mattress; you definitely weren't getting your deposit back. Fucking worth it though, as the polar bear slammed into you on pure instinct, his motions sloppy and aggressive with no real goal other than cumming inside you. He didn't even register as your cunt clamped down around him and you went silent from the intense pleasure as you came hard on his cock, letting out a long relieved moan as your body relaxed again, Bepo still slamming into you relentlessly and overstimulating you. All you could do was whine helplessly as he used your body, until his claws sunk into your hips, blood drops matting the fur as he stilled inside you, teeth breezing against your shoulder as he huffed and filled you with his seed.

It took a lot of gentle convincing to get him to roll to his side instead of crushing you, his cock still inside you, the bone keeping him erect and plugging you to keep is cum deep inside your cunt as he slowly came back to reality. “Ah, sorry, sorry,” he mumbled against your back, breath tickling your fur. “I can't- I don't wanna-”

“It's okay, my sweet snowbear,” you took his paw and curled your fingers between his digits, holding it against your chest, your abdomen visibly bulging from his cock still deep inside you. “You don't have to move, you're just doing what your instincts want you to. It's always like this the first few times for minks, just do what feels right, kay?”

“Okay, sorry,” he mumbled, nuzzling against your back, “did I do good?”

“Yes baby, you did good,” you smiled, bringing his paw to your mouth to kiss it. “So good,” you purred, a contented chuffing coming from the bear behind you.

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

♡ Hiya Blusy! hope ur not too overwhelmed with requests, sendin' love, support and appreciation over from the great land of Chuck-E-Cheese. ♡

anyways, onto the request.

Prompt where Hyper-femme, Fem!Reader, (obviously) who is already in an established relationship with Donna, who always likes to dress cute, as to look vaguely like a porcelaine doll for Donna (and Angie, because, that doll just loves sneaking into Readers poofy petticoats and scaring the living shit out of Reader when they grab the petticoat out of the closet, for wearing), one day, decides to up her (Readers) game by going into town, or in this case, village, buying some cute, ruffly, pastel (pink, white, yellow, ya name it!) fabrics, with a variety of textures, and colours, and means of usage (such as, fabric for a bonnet, fabric for a dress, thin, stretchy material cloth for stockings), sewing (Reader knows how to sew) themselves a VERRRYYY doll looking outfit (poofy tea dress, bonnet, bright colours that clash yet dont clash, curled hair, to resemble those antique dolls with bottle-curled locks, -- Imagine Lolita-wear, basically),

Reader also gets prim-and-proper, by fluffing on those white powder, makeup thingies (the one lottie uses in princess and the frog?? Sorry, non-english speaker, dunno what that is) and whatnot, to REALLY drive into that doll-y aesthetic

Reader suprises Donna, who, at the time, was just innocently reading,

Donna looks at Reader and just starts like, violently sobbing, because of how, 'Reader did so much to look like the stuff she likes!! She doesnt deserve them!!' (If that makes you uncomftorable to write, replace it with something more mellow)

Reader comforts Donna, through giggles, because of how ridiculous she sounded, -- reassuring Donna that she wasnt laughing at her, but at how stupid her reasoning for crying was, because, ofcourse she would dress cute if Donna liked it?? Reader would wear a trash bag if Donna had asked them to, no questions asked! (Okay.. maybe a little bit dramatic, Reader is an eloquent, feminine, 'pink! Pink! Pink!' lady that wouldnt dare to approach black clothing to wear herself, but, you get the point)

Reader promises to Donna that it was no hassel to make herself so pretty, -- 'sewing is a breeze! I love makeup! I just really like those doll vibes..'

Reader also promises Donna that, she'd love to doll (aha, get it?) herself up for Donna every once in awhile, because Reader just loves Donna, and how cute they feel in their respective style, so much, that they just HAVE to.

After Donna had calmed down from that whole 'you sewed yourself stuff for me??!!??! You put on makeup for me??!?@ you did your hair for me?!??!?@??@?!' crisis (again, if that makes you uncomftorable, mellow it down!! No worries!! 💞), and, plopped Reader onto her lap whilst she finished working on her dolls, taking pauses to kiss, and appreciate, and maybe shed some more self-concious, overly-thankful, singular tears, every once in a while --

The end result? A doll that, for some reason, really resembled how reader looked .. down to every scar, and fold, and pocket on Readers body, or bonnet, or dress.

Huh.. weird!

I ask of you to make this just mildly-sfw (meaning, kisses, carresses, etc are okay), -- not smutty or anything, if thats okay! Just cotton-candishly fluffy.

Hope my writing isnt too confusing? Dyslexic, non-english speaking, neurodivergant mess. Aha, please laugh! Anyways, write-ya later, alligator!

-- Chuck-E-Cheese employee, Anon 🐭

Yesss!!!! Thank you for your funny words :D and also for your request!!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :))))

Doll face

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: fluff,

Word count: 7,440

Summary: She loved you, she loved her dolls... Maybe it was time to put those two things together...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

Another day began and you walked slowly towards the living room. The sound of your heels bounced off the wood like an elegant music that accompanied each morning. Before getting close enough, you looked at yourself in the mirror to make sure everything was in its place. You couldn't help it, you were always like that.

Every morning was a confirmation for you that your life went on, that you could continue to light up that dark mansion with your joy. The bright colors of your dress always contrasted with the sadness of those dilapidated walls, with the darkness that you, every day, tried to eliminate.

Being born with the gift of joy and color could seem strange in a place like that. The village always played with the same color palette, everything was white, black, gray... There was nothing that could stand out, that could change the sinister atmosphere of the place where you were born.

You always went against those principles, against the gray, the black, the darkness. Your friends envied you and you knew it. It wasn't your beauty, your intelligence or your skills, no, they envied your colorful way of facing life.

Proud of your femininity, you always looked for a way to put on makeup, to dress in an elegant and striking way. It was your style, yes, but also a hobby. Playing with darkness, facing it became almost an addiction.

You spent your days sewing, putting on makeup, telling the world that if it wanted to be black it would have to walk all over you. Joy, elegance and the desire to feel different, that was your motivation when you got up every morning.

The masses, the Black Gods didn't seem bothered, quite the opposite. Everything in your life went well, or so you thought, since you always saw the good side of things. Being happy was quite an achievement in a place like that and appearance was the first step to prove it, to stand out in a world of shadows.

But that different attitude had consequences. You were not shunned by the village. They didn't look at you with dangerous eyes, quite the opposite. Wherever you went, you attracted attention, you caught the eyes of everyone who was present, villager or even...Lord.

Yes, you noticed how the gazes of the four of them were fixed on you. One of them seemed more interested, unable to take her gaze off you.

Like a ghost, like the complete opposite of you, that black figure always followed you with its gaze. You couldn't know how, you couldn't see her eyes. A woman in mourning, covered by a black veil, a sinister doll... The dollmaker, Donna Beneviento.

At first you thought it was just another look, that the always bright tones of your clothes blinded her vision, bothered her. It didn't take long for you to find out that it was precisely the opposite.

Your joy, your determination to look good, to stand out from the boring crowd was what really caught her attention, what made her approach you with curiosity. That was the first step towards a perfect future.

It might seem that you two were like water and oil, like light and darkness, but perhaps that was precisely what made you slowly become addicted to her. You had much more in common than it might seem at first.

 You both loved sewing, beauty... Well, really, when that black veil disappeared, when Lady Beneviento showed her deformed face to you, you began to know what beauty really was.

She was a beautiful woman, really beautiful, she just didn't know it. You did, and you wouldn't let a second go by without reminding her, always. That contrast of black and pink, of paleness and color was perfect, a perfect mix that ended up leading to a kiss, a kiss that said much more than any clumsy word.

And so, time went by and your relationship settled comfortably. You even left your old home for that sad and dull mansion, with the certain objective that your presence would bring the light that it needed, that joy that was missing in that place, in that woman.

Donna was a dark just like her clothes. Her problems and misfortunes turned her into a wandering spirit, into a lonely entity waiting for the days to end. Your arrival didn’t change that erratic attitude, nor her inevitable madness.

You weren’t going to lose her. You were not going to let the darkness invade you too. You would be like a lifeguard, like the light that illuminates a dark path, showing the way out of a labyrinth of sadness and bitterness.

Despite those problems, despite the constant mockery of the Angie doll, you were happy, you couldn’t help being happier than ever. You would do anything for Donna and she would do it for you. An unexpected love, but one you would never let go of, ever.

“Good morning,” you hummed as you approached the table, always sporting the same bright smile. A fake smile to look elegant or to pretend? No, not at all, it was a genuine smile, one that always achieved the desired effect, that the lady in black would return one of hers.

“Ciao, tesoro…” Donna replied, leaving her coffee cup to extend her hand towards you, one that you took and caressed, letting yourself be carried away by the subtle pull that took you to her lips, placing them on yours cautiously. “Good morning…”

“Did you sleep well?” you asked, reluctantly abandoning those lips, going around the table and sitting in your chair.

Her gaze rose to yours, nodding as she poured you a cup of coffee.

“As always when I'm with you,” the lady said, with a slight blush on her cheeks, a reaction of her body that, despite all the time, she couldn't avoid.

“Mm, okay,” you said amused, causing a shy laugh from the woman in black. “Today is a splendid day.”

“Yes, it really is,” she murmured, nodding slowly.

“We could go for a walk,” you suggested, spreading jam on one of the toasts, a strawberry jam that, unintentionally, matched perfectly with your clothes, as always.

Maybe the color and you had a much more special relationship than you thought.

Donna shook her head, making that smile she always put on when she saw you, disappear.

“I have a lot of work, (Y/N), I don't think I can,” she commented with a serious tone.

You tilted your head, frowning.

“What a shame, because I have to go to the village and it would have been great if you came with me… So I could show off a little bit about you,” you said, pretending to pout as the lady laughed again.

“In any case, tesoro, I would be the one to show off about you,” Donna murmured, looking at you with a mischievous smile behind her cup.

You bit your lip and sighed, blinking in a petulant and romantic way.

“You never get tired of being adorable, do you?” you said amused. “Anyway, I really have to go to the village.”

“Do you have to go? What do you need?” she asked curiously, continuing with her breakfast, repressing all those words and flattery that always interrupted any conversation.

“Look at this dress,” you said frowning and pointing at your clothes. “It's already pretty old.”

“Old?” the lady asked, looking at you confused. “I thought you got it last year.”

“Mm yeah, but… I don’t know, today I woke up really, really wanting to sew,” you sighed, looking up at the ceiling, remembering all the designs you had thought of while you were taking a shower.

“Oh,” she murmured, arching her eyebrow. “If you’re so willing to sew, you could help me with my dolls.”

“Really?” you asked surprised. It was the first time she asked you something like that. Her dolls were something almost sacred to her. She would never let a stranger intervene in their creations.

“You sew very well, I think you could be of help to me,” she commented passively, taking a toast, looking away in a subtle way. “If it’s okay with you, of course.”

“I think it’s a great idea, Donna,” you said enthusiastically.

Actually, going down to that dark workshop was something you tried to avoid, but at first you had no choice. Your love for sewing forced you to hide your pride and spend hours with Donna in that sinister place.

Over time, the lady in black agreed to let you use the guest room for your sewing work, one blessed with sunlight, much better.

But that day you had no choice but to go down to that horrible basement.

“Are you comfortable, tesoro?” Donna asked, putting a chair next to hers and indicating you to sit down.

You nodded, earning a soft kiss on the lips, one that you deepened, making the lady in black give a shy laugh to your ears.

“Take these fabrics,” she indicated, sitting in front of the old sewing machine and giving you an assortment of dark fabric that you looked at with disdain.

It didn't matter how much you loved Donna. You liked how that black dress framed her figure but that color was still your worst enemy.

“Let's see…” you whispered, looking at each of the colors with reluctance. “Hey, Donna, are you going to use these colors?”

“Mm, I always use those colors,” she explained, looking for something in the notes of an old notebook and showing it to you. “Look, I'm sure that dress over there won't be a problem for you, do you understand what it says?”

You looked at the notes and with a small effort, you nodded pleased.

“Luckily Angie has taught me,” you commented amused, translating those elegant words written in Italian. Donna smiled pleased, getting a little closer to you.

“Always try to embroider it…Mm… This way,” she indicated, turning a few pages and showing you the designs.

“Okay…” you sighed in an exaggerated way, looking sideways at the black fabrics.

“Is something wrong, tesoro?” the lady asked, alerted by your sudden reluctance. “You, you don't have to help me… If, if you want to go to the village…”

“Oh no, it's not that, I'd love to help you Donna, but it's just…” you whispered, biting your lip and picking up one of the cloths. “Does it really have to be black?”

“Yes,” she said, with a concentrated expression, moving away a little and observing a porcelain head. “If you don't like it you can make it grey, I don't really care.”

“Grey…” you sighed with a tired look, glancing at a few dolls on a shelf, all of them sad, dark, depressing… “Have you never thought about giving them a bit of color?”

“Color?” she asked in a low voice, skillfully mixing paint and cleaning the imperfections of that lifeless head. “I don't understand you.”

“Always grey, black… Donna…” you sighed, drawing her attention. “What harm can it do to a doll to not look like it has in a funeral?”

“Explain yourself,” the lady murmured, painting the lips of that head, barely listening to you.

“You should use pink, or white for your dolls' dresses, they would surely look much better,” you said, nodding, touching the soft black fabric and hoping that the darkness wouldn't spread to your dress.

“Oh, I didn't know you made dolls,” Donna said with irony and a mocking smile.

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head.

“Donna, color gives a lot of joy to everything,” you said, leaning on the table and guiding her head to look at you. She sighed annoyed, putting down the head and crossing her arms.

“If I want to see colors, I just need to look at you,” she joked, frowning, with an intriguing smile.

“Thanks,” you said amused, blinking flirtatiously.

Donna laughed too, but looked away.

“I like my dolls just the way they are,” she said quietly, going back to painting the head. “It’s my style.”

“Oh, okay…” you said with a mocking look, starting to draw patterns on the black fabric. “Well, your style is very bland, honey.”

“Bland… have you come to help or criticize me?” she asked, her tone a bit colder, but with her smile telling you she wasn’t upset.

“It’s constructive criticism,” you commented, getting up from your chair and walking over to one of the shelves, picking up a random doll. “Look at this one. Isn’t she supposed to be having tea?”

Donna turned to look at you and tilted her head with a sigh.

“It seems so,” she murmured.

“Well, she should have a white and red frilly dress with a matching pretty hat, not a boring dark grey dress,” you said, looking at the doll's fabric.

“Then she would look like you,” she said as you sat back down, shrugging.

“Oh, you don't like the way I dress?” you asked with a feigned look of shock and offense, cutting the black fabric to shape that boring dress.

“You're not a doll,” Donna whispered, glancing at you out of the corner of her eye.

A wide smile spread across your face and you leaned towards her ear.

“Oh, would you like it?” you whispered, kissing her ear softly before returning to your task.

The lady in black looked at you briefly, about to say something. She apparently changed her mind at the last moment and laughed softly, shaking her head.

“If you were my doll…” Donna murmured, after a moment of calm and silent work. It seemed that this innocent question was floating around in her head, something that caught your attention. “You would wear black clothes.”

“Mm, that's what you say now,” you said defiantly, sewing the sleeves of the black dress, afraid that this horrible color would cause an allergic reaction on your skin. “I'm convinced that once you try to leave the safety of these horrible colors you will no longer want to go back to black.”

“You are very sure of yourself,” she murmured amused, coming closer to kiss you slowly, something she always did when she couldn't prove you were wrong. “But I'm afraid you're not a doll.”

“Well, that can be possible,” you said to yourself. The lady blinked in confusion, but returned to her work.

The morning passed quietly. You sighed in relief when you finished that hideous black dress, one that Donna looked at closely.

“Do you like it?” you asked expectantly.

She nodded pleased.

“Good job, (Y/N)…” she sighed, placing the dress to give it some final touches.

“Brr…” you said, pretending to shiver. “I think I need a walk, that horrible color has stressed me out.”

“You're so exaggerated, tesoro,” Donna joked as you stood up, pretending disgust at that black fabric. “Are you going to the village?”

“Yes…” you sighed, stretching in an exaggerated way. “Do you want something?”

“No,” she said with a dry tone, looking away.

“Are you sure you don't want some colored fabrics?” you asked, leaning over one of her shoulders, opening your eyes like a puppy.

She smiled, pinching your cheek and kissing you before shaking her head.

“Whatever, don’t complain if people stop buying your dolls,” you said in an ironic tone, slowly moving away, stopped by a hand in yours, which kept you in place.

“All my dolls are sold, (Y/N),” she told you, in a somber tone, indicating that you had managed to offend her. Luckily, you were used to playing with the doll maker.

“Right, maybe it's because you're the only doll maker in the village and also a Lord. You could put a ball of wool on a stick, call it a doll, and the village children would buy it,” you joked, blinking cockily.

Donna growled, letting your hand go abruptly.

“Why don't you just leave now?” she asked in a dark tone, turning away so as not to make eye contact with you.

“Oh, are you kicking me out?” you said defiantly.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Don't tell me how to do my job.”

“I'm just advising you... If you make all your dolls the same, where's the originality?” you asked, insisting without fear. Donna would never blow up over something like that, and you knew it.

“(Y/N)…” the lady hissed.

“Okay, okay, I'm leaving,” you said amused, approaching again, surrounding her by the shoulders in an annoying hug and repeatedly kissing her cheek, causing her to laugh as she tried to escape from your kissing attack.

“Hey, lasciami…” she protested while laughing.

You obeyed, but when you moved away you felt a strong tug on your wrist that brought you back to the lady, kissing you in a deeper way.

“Actually, I would like you to be a doll…”

“Oh, would you?” you asked amused, playing with her hands. She nodded with a dark look, pulling you closer to her ear.

“Mm, if you were a doll you surely wouldn't say nonsense,” she joked with a sensual tone.

You responded by giving her shoulder a protest hit while she laughed amused.

“Oh, okay, okay,” you sighed, crossing your arms and walking towards the doors. “But you know what? I would be the prettiest doll, and the most colorful…”

Donna shook her head, sighing, giving you a tender smile, a completely in love look.

“Ti amo, (Y/N),” she said without looking at you.

“Oh, Donna…” you murmured, with all your cheesy side forcing you to get closer again, giving one last kiss to the brunette. “I love you, I love you, I love you…”

“Go away,” she said amused, struggling again with your excessive affection.

You nodded and obeyed, walking happily towards the bedroom. Of course, you couldn't leave the mansion without putting on makeup and spending excessive time to find something that matched your clothes.

You sighed as you carelessly opened the closet. You'll be wondering ‘Why careless?’ simple, because there was someone else in that house, someone who liked to scare you.

“Are you looking for something?” a sinister voice came out of the closet, hidden among your clothes. “Because if you were looking for me, you've found me, you fool!”

“Ah, Angie!” you said with a hand on your chest, startled by the sudden appearance of Donna's doll, peeking out from your clothes like every morning.

You didn't know if Angie scared you because she hated you, or because it was her way of having fun. You really doubted that doll had anything against you, after all, you came into Donna's life to make her happy and that is something that, discreetly, Angie would always thank you for.

“Scare, scare...” the doll mocked, humming triumphantly.

You smiled, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms.

“You're going to wrinkle my clothes,” you said amused, gesturing to the doll to get out of there.

“What are you looking for, silly? An accessory?” Angie asked, shuffling through your colorful dresses.

“A coat that matches this,” you said with disinterest while the doll continued to shuffle through the clothes. “Oh, wait, that one,” you interrupted, taking the garment that the doll held expectantly.

“Another day in which Great Angie helps you with your clothes,” the doll said laughing and getting off the furniture with a comical jump. “You're welcome, loser.”

“Thanks…” you said with a falsely elegant tone, putting that pink coat on the bed.

Then you walked to the old dresser, thus beginning another of your makeup sessions.

“Can I help you, silly?” Angie asked, sitting at the small table and taking your utensils.

“Okay,” you said smiling, gathering your hair. “Bring me that powder over there.”

The doll obeyed and silence reigned again in the mansion.

“Hey, Angie,” you said, glancing at the doll, at her white dress. “I think you're the only doll that doesn't wear black. It doesn't seem that Donna made you.”

“Donna didn't make me, you fool!” the puppet protested, startling you, making you growl. That was the moment when you were putting on eye makeup, it was dangerous.

“No? I thought so,” you commented, getting a little closer to the mirror.

“No, silly, silly, her father made me,” Angie commented, watching you from very close, watching you put on makeup.

“Oh, I didn't know that,” you commented, preparing the blush. “But I shouldn't be surprised. She would never make a doll in a color different than black or gray.”

“Do you have a problem with the way my Donna works? Because if so, get ready for a fight,” she said, moving her fists comically.

“No, no,” you said amused, moving your hands away from the doll as you put the blush on your cheeks. “I just can't explain her aversion to color.”

“Donna doesn't have an aversion to color,” Angie said, leaving you some room.

“Mm, well, it seems like it... Has she never made a doll in a different color...? A more cheerful one?” you asked curiously, distracting you too much from your makeup session.

“No,” the doll said shrugging. “But why would she want to do that? She already has you.”

“I'm not a doll,” you said amused, shaking your head, looking at yourself in the mirror, puzzled.

“Are you sure? Because you look like one…” Angie said amused, pointing at the mirror.

“What's wrong?” you asked, frowning. “Oh, too much lipstick…”

“Too much blush…” the doll added, making you sigh and take a piece of cotton to fix that mess.

“Yes…”

“Now you are a doll,” she said amused, making you look at her confused. “I'm sure Donna will go crazy if she sees you like this.”

“Oh, you think so?” you asked, looking at yourself carefully and correcting some imperfections in your makeup. “She already has hundreds of dolls. She doesn't need another one… right?”

“What nonsense, if Donna is obsessed with those dolls it's because she loves them,” Angie commented. “I don't understand why, I'm infinitely better than them, in every way.”

You laughed amused, with an absurd idea going through your head. If Donna liked dolls that much… How would she react if you really looked like one of them? Curiosity was much stronger than rational thought and it was never a bad chance to make the lady in black smile.

“So…” you murmured, putting away your makeup. “Do you think Donna will love seeing me like this?”

“Oh, sure,” the doll nodded, crossing your arms. “But, but, wait, I didn't say anything. Don't tell her…” she said hastily. “Donna hates when I read her mind.”

“Mm…” you murmured thoughtfully, excited by the idea of ​​testing that statement. If you were successful… Well, your mind was already taking care of the rest.

After putting on your bright and elegant coat, you went up the elevator, finding Donna by surprise. She seemed to be reading something at her desk.

“Honey,” you said with a wide smile, walking slowly towards her and leaning over the furniture. “Weren't you with your dolls?”

“No, obviously I’m not anymore,” she said, with a cold tone, reluctantly letting you kiss her cheek softly, accidentally marking it with your lipstick.

“Oh, I'm sorry,” you said amused, running a hand over her painted cheek. “What are you reading?”

“Niente,” the lady said, nervously covering a strange catalogue, something that made you suspicious.

“That seems like a lie to me, dolcezza…” you joked. “Let me see, please, please…” you said insistently with a high-pitched, pleading tone.

Your extremely cheesy and affectionate gestures had an effect on the brunette, forcing her to give in with an annoyed grunt.

“Wow…” you whispered, looking at that old catalogue of dolls, some very different from Donna's. “I see that my words have had an effect.”

“Sometimes I think you're a witch,” the lady commented while you looked at one of those dolls, one with a white dress, with ruffles, terribly adorable. Your mind was already working on ideas, but you still didn't know exactly which ones.

“A witch?” you asked amused, bringing the catalogue closer to your eyes, memorizing every detail of that pompous doll. “I'm just saying what I think.”

“Mm, yes, and you make me think,” Donna whispered, looking up and opening her eye wide when it made contact with yours. “(Y/N), tesoro…” she sighed, mouth agape.

“What's wrong, darling?” you asked passively, leaving the magazine on the desk again, meeting the doll maker's dazed gaze.

“You look… beautiful…” she said in a surprised voice, looking at each and every detail of your exaggerated makeup. “You look beautiful, today, tesoro…”

“Do you really think so?” you asked, surprised by that unexpected reaction. Donna nodded softly, with a tender look.

“Yes, you are, I don't know, different,” ​​the lady commented, taking your hands and swinging them with hers. “I, I like the way you've put on your makeup.”

“Oh…” you sighed, blushing at the compliment and at the reaction that your doll look had the desired effect, even better. “Well, I thought it was too much blush…”

“No, you look, you look gorgeous…” Donna said, pulling your body so she could kiss you softly.

“Donna, the lipstick…” you joked, moving away from that tender kiss.

“I'm sorry, I got carried away,” the lady in black apologized. “Your beauty never ceases to amaze me.”

“Mm, could it be that I remind you of a doll?” you asked amused, tilting your head with your hands on your waist.

“Maybe,” she murmured, distracted again by that catalogue, confirming your suspicions. “La mia bellisima bambola”

Well, now you could put into practice those ideas that were traveling alone through your mind.

 “Okay, Don, I could spend the rest of the day letting you tell me such nice things but… I'm afraid I have to go to the village.”

“Don't call me Don, I hate it,” she protested, receiving in response a wink and an elegant turn that made your dress dance in a hypnotic way.

“Okay, you grumpy spaghetti…” you sighed amused, looking at Angie. “Are you coming with me, Angie?”

“Bah, I don't think so, the Duke has the wool balls counted …” the doll said, sitting on the lap of her owner, who looked attentively at that catalogue, with a sweet smile.

Humming, you walked through the forest. The bright colors of your clothes illuminated you among the dull and pale white of the snow. You almost thought you were shining.

Your head worked remembering the colors, the shapes of that porcelain doll you saw in that old photograph. But what you really couldn't forget was Donna's face when she saw you made up like that, noticing your obvious resemblance to a doll.

Seeing that poor tormented woman happy was much more to your liking than sewing, much more than putting on makeup or matching clothes. Donna was your favorite hobby since you met her and besides, each of her smiles was a reward for you. The joy and tenderness of her gaze hid the pain, the suffering, everything she went through before becoming a Lord.

You were definitely completely determined to make her forget, to make every day with you special. It already was but... Maybe that makeup mistake could be useful in the near future.

“Oh, elegance itself approaching my humble carriage...” the Duke murmured when you walked towards him.

You nodded at him kindly, with your hands on your hips.

“Don't flatter me, Duke, I'm not going to pay you more for that,” you said amused. “Fabrics, I need fabrics.”

“Well…” he sighed, laughing satisfied. “Are they for you or for Lady Beneviento?” he asked, taking out a few rolls of fabrics of many colors.

“For me,” you said, coming closer to look for something similar to the doll in that catalog. “Do you have something with ruffles?” you asked curiously, running your hand over a fabric of a color very similar to the one you were looking for.

“Ruffles? Sure…” the merchant said, laughing pleased and showing you what you were looking for. “It doesn't seem like the typical fabric order you usually make me, Miss (Y/N).”

“No, it's for a personal project,” you commented, searching among those fabrics for something that could help you make a matching hat.

“Sounds interesting,” the man commented, with a gloomy look.

“No matter how much discount you give me, I'm not going to tell you anything,” you said amused, knowing the thirst for information that the greedy merchant always had. “Mm... Do you have this fabric in pastel pink?”

“Of course...” the man murmured, taking out the required roll. “By the way, let me tell you that you look beautiful this morning.”

“Wow, thank you,” you said, smiling pleased by the compliment, checking the quality of an elastic fabric that you would use for stockings.

“There's no doubt why Lady Beneviento is completely crazy about you. I always thought that you looked like... Well, don't be offended, one of her dolls,” the Duke commented, laughing amused.

You smiled and raised your eyebrows.

“Mm, do you think that Donna loves me just because I look like one of her dolls?” you joked, crossing your arms.

“I didn't say that, Miss,” he said, making a gesture with his hand. “But it's clear that you know how to please her.”

“Of course,” you said satisfied, picking up a much thicker cloth, perfect for a matching bonnet. “But… I'm not going to tell you anything. I doubt you are interested in my way of pleasing Lady Beneviento.”

“I'm interested in everything, dear,” he joked, to which you gave him a dark but amused look. “Oh, I'm sure these bows are perfect for what you're looking for.”

“Mm, let me see…” you sighed, picking up those showy bows.

Of course that man couldn't even guess what you had in mind, but you shouldn't underestimate him. He wasn't exactly a naive fool.

Satisfied with your purchases, you returned to the mansion, ready to start your little game, one that sounded better and better in your head and that you were eager to put into practice.

Naturally, poor Donna didn't suspect anything. She always tried with all her might not to get involved in your affairs. She rarely succeeded, but that time, luckily, was one of them.

Little by little, taking advantage of a carelessness of the lady in black, you managed to get that old doll catalogue, carefully observing each of the details of that doll chosen for your plans.

An elegant hat surrounded by a yellow bow, white stockings matching patent leather shoes... Definitely a classic doll, but with touches of your own style, replacing that boring white of the original design with a deep pastel pink color.

“Mm…” you hummed as you sewed, with the atypical blessing of sunlight streaming through your makeshift workshop. That guest never-used room that was something like your secret lair. “Let's see…” you murmured, checking the size of the hat, checking that it fit your features perfectly. “Yes, perfect.”

Satisfied, you put that pompous bonnet away in a place where Donna couldn't look and continued with the dress, the part that would take you much longer.

“(Y/N), tesoro,” a voice interrupted your sewing along with some soft knocks on the door. “Amore mio, are you there?”

“Oh, Donna, yes, w-wait a minute,” you said, hastily putting away all your work and opening the door, trying to put your hair up first.

What you were doing didn't matter, you always had to be perfect for her, and you loved being that way.

“Ciao…” she said with a sweet voice when you opened the door, looking at you with that bright eye.

Of course, your makeup didn't change since that day. You always tried to perfect the doll look that provoked those tender sighs, those caresses...

“Hola,” you said amused, enjoying how her gaze ran satisfied over your features. “Do you want something, my love?”

“Oh, well, I wanted to see you but...” she whispered, grabbing you by the waist, lightly pressing your body against hers. “I actually wanted to ask if you were hungry.”

“Hungry? Oh, well, now that you mention it...” you said with a tender smile, biting your lip at the gentle rocking of your bodies. “I’m a bit hungry.”

“You're distracted lately,” the lady commented, placing a lock of hair behind your ear. “What are you up to?”

“Me? Nothing,” you whispered innocently.

Donna smiled mockingly, arching her eyebrow and leaning in to kiss you slowly again.

“You’re a terrible liar,” she whispered playfully, releasing you from her romantic hold. “You spend a lot of time locked up in here, tesoro…”

“Well, spring is coming and I have to hurry if I want to be up to date,” you said in a calm voice, closing the door when the lady in black peeked in to see what was inside.

“Don’t give it so much importance. You look beautiful in anything you wear, cara mia…” Donna whispered romantically, stealing another kiss from you again.

“Hey, I can make something for you if you want… How old is that dress?” you asked playfully, subtly changing the subject and playing with the black fabric. “Don’t you want me to make you a…? I don’t know, a red, or an orange one, or…”

“No, tesoro,” she said, laughing playfully, like every time you hinted at her taking off her horrible mourning dress. “I like this dress.”

“Okay, okay…” you sighed, hanging onto his neck. “But some embroidered flowers…” you murmured, running a hand over her chest.

“I'm not going to put flowers on my dress,” she said, with a more serious look, crossing her arms.

“As you wish, grumpy…” you whispered jokingly, getting her to grab you by the waist again while you resisted, laughing shyly.

“Maybe you don't want me to cook for you,” she mocked, pretending to pout.

“Oh, no, no, um… let's go to the kitchen and I'll help you, okay?” you said, apologizing in a soft tone, earning a kiss on your made-up cheek.

“It'll be a pleasure, doll face…” she whispered, immediately paralyzing and putting on a nervous look. Surely she didn't want to say that, but she said it, to your ears’ delight.

“Mm, what did you call me?” you said, biting your lip and approaching her seductively.

“I'm, I'm sorry,” she apologized nervously. “I didn't mean…”

“You didn't mean to? Well, I liked it, Donna,” you said, turning around, making your dress dance like you knew she liked and walking towards the stairs.

That was one of the many proofs that your doll makeup was working perfectly. Donna looked like she had just met you, she was more in love than ever, watching you whenever she could, telling you those things that made you melt and replacing little by little her usual ‘tesoro’ or ‘dolcezza’ with ‘doll face’, something that wasn’t unpleasant for you at all.

The days went by and your project was almost finished. A last embroidery on your dress was the last piece for your plan.

“Okay… what do you think?” you asked the doll that sat on the small bed, watching your work.

Angie never said anything to her owner under the threat of revealing that, indeed, reading the lady's thoughts was one of her favorite hobbies, as well as scaring you.

“A cheesy, cheesy, cheesy thing,” she said amused. “Aren't there too many ruffles?”

“No… Look, it's almost identical to the model,” you commented, running your hands over the newly finished fabric, playing with those ruffles, caressing them while you turned the magazine so Angie could take a look.

“Hey, but that dress is white!” the puppet protested. “Why did you turn it pink?”

“Look here, it has white fabric underneath, do you see?” you explained, showing the parts inside of the dress, which matched perfectly with the stockings. “Besides, I wanted to give it my own style.”

“Yes, your silly, cheesy, cheesy style,” Angie mocked, moving your new dress curiously.

“Donna likes me being cheesy,” you said, moving the doll away from your new creation and hanging it on under the bonnet, observing the outfit from afar.

“Donna likes anything that has to do with you or her dolls,” Angie corrected, observing the outfit, imitating your posture in a comical way.

“So if we put the two things together…” you said with an expectant voice, satisfied with the final result.

“She's going to have a heart attack, for sure… Uh… That's not your intention, is it?” Angie commented, pointing at you accusingly, to which you simply rolled your eyes, taking the hanger and walking towards the exit.

“Do me a favor and distract Donna, she's reading downstairs, right?” you asked, opening the door cautiously.

“Yes, she is, silly,” the doll said, crossing her arms. “Relax, I'll take care of the silly Donna…”

As expected, Angie kept her word, forcing the lady to chase her after stealing her book. You took advantage of that distraction to go down to the basement and get dressed and well… put the finishing touches on your plan.

“Okay…” you said, looking at yourself in the mirror while putting on your makeup. At first your resemblance to a doll was more or less subtle, but that occasion required a little more powder on your face and blush, more striking lips and of course, a beautiful curly hairstyle.

You already had the golden hair color naturally, but it used to fall down, so curling it was perhaps the most complicated part, but nothing that was out of your reach.

“Perfect, it's wrong for me to say it but... I'm a genius,” you said, adjusting your hat, looking at yourself dressed completely as a doll. “Now let's see what you say, dolcezza...”

The sound of your handmade shoes was pleasant. The clothes were really comfortable, even forgetting about the whole doll thing, it was a beautiful dress that would undoubtedly accompany you from time to time, well, if Donna liked it, of course.

“Honey...” you hummed as you went up the elevator, walking slowly to where the lady in black was, reading innocently.

“Ciao,” she sighed, turning a page, without looking at you. “I thought you were upstairs.”

You laughed shyly, holding the sides of your dress so they moved elegantly as you approached the couch, slowly lowering the brunette's book.

Donna glanced at you briefly and then went back to her book, but that only lasted a second, the second it took her brain to process your change.

“Mamma mia… (Y/N)…” she sighed with her eye wide open, her jaw dropping slightly. Just for that face, it was worth all the work.

“Do you like my new outfit?” you asked amused, turning around to move your dress, to further hypnotize the paralyzed lady in black. “I've given it a little more personal touch…”

“But, but, but…” Donna stammered, slowly getting up. “(Y/N)… Sei come una bambola…”

“Yeah, well, it's just that I used a doll for the design, I don't know why, I thought you would like it, what do you think, honey?” you said passively, not giving importance to Donna's apparent nervousness.

“It's, it's incredible…” she stammered, grabbing your hand and giving you an elegant spin, touching, brushing the fabric, caressing your curls. “D-Did you make it?”

“Of course,” you said smiling, enjoying her exploratory caresses. “I know how much you like your dolls, so I thought that maybe seeing me almost turned into one of them would make you happy,” you explained, putting a hand on her cheek so she would look into your eyes. “Do you like it, my love?”

“W-Wait,” she said, blinking confusedly, moving away. “Do you mean that you…? That you… You did it this for me?” she asked, increasingly nervous, a reaction that you didn’t expect.

“Of course, darling… I like to make you happy. I'm not going to say that it has not taken me a lot of work but, well, you already know how easy it is for me to sew and… Donna?”

You stopped talking when you heard a sob, when you saw the sadness in the brunette's eye, an inexplicable one. You got a little closer to her. Poor Donna seemed unable to stop crying.

“My love, what's wrong?” you asked with a sweet voice, worried about her reaction. “Don't cry, Donna…”

“Y-You have, have, have you done that…? For me?” the lady in black repeated, with a voice broken by that irrational crying. “Just for me? But, but… You, you've been sewing for weeks and… You've put on makeup like that and… And… Just for me?”

When you realized what the reason for her crying was, you sighed in relief, lifting her chin and laughing amused.

“Donna… Of course I did it for you…” you said between soft laughs, wiping away her tears.

“But, but, tesoro… You didn't have to… You didn't have to try that hard… For, for me…” she stammered again, shaking her head.

You laughed a bit louder, causing the lady in black to protest by kicking the floor.

“Don't laugh at me,” she hissed, wiping her tears herself, looking at you in annoyance.

“I'm not laughing at you, darling,” you said, cupping her face in your hands. “I laugh at how absurd those tears are,” you whispered in a soft voice, coming closer to lightly place your lips on hers, in an almost imperceptible kiss.

“How do you want me not to cry? You, you know how much I like dolls and, and, you, you sewed that for me, you put on that outfit for me… Just to make me happy… I, I don't deserve you, (Y/N), I don't deserve you!”

“Shhh, don't yell, my precious Donna…” you said, calming that incipient crisis with more kisses, with more caresses. “When will you learn that I would do anything for you? Anything…  I don't know, if you asked me to wear a trash bag instead of clothes, I would do it without thinking, or even worse, I would be able to wear something black for you, my love…”

Donna smiled, calming her crying and shaking her head, taking a moment to contemplate you before hugging you lovingly, with all the love she dared to express.

“You are perfect, (Y/N)… Perfect…” she whispered lovingly in your ear, playing with your curls, calming the sobs that still came out of her lips.

“Just because I'm with you,” you said, smiling adorably, perfectly matching your doll look.

“Ti amo, ti amo, ti amo…” the lady repeated, showering you with kisses, caresses… Smiling after that little moment of crisis.

“Hey, the makeup, Donna,” you joked, gently pushing her away. “I love you too, so much…”

The lady looked you up and down again and suddenly frowned.

“I have, I have an idea…” she murmured, taking your hand and starting to walk. “Come with me.”

The two of you went down to the basement and entered the workshop. Donna didn’t say anything, but she seemed nervous, rummaging through her stuff for something you didn’t know about. When she apparently found it, she sat down on her chair, pulling your hand.

“Will you sit with me, doll face?” she asked you kindly, guiding you to sit on her lap, which you did happily.

Without saying anything to you, she began to work on a porcelain body. She seemed focused, but she was easily distracted by your kisses, the ones she gave you from time to time, with a tear running down her cheek.

“Mm,” you murmured, dying of love for those displays of affection, for those tender kisses that soothed your skin.

“(Y/N), do you have any fabric left in that color?” Donna asked pointing to your dress, after shaping the curly mane of an upcoming doll.

You brought her everything she asked for and as the hours passed, which seemed too short for you, you began to sense what she was doing. Your same hairstyle, your same dress, the stockings, the hat… Everything was reflected in miniature in that doll.

“Is it me?” you asked in a sweet voice, placing yourself well on her lap. She looked at you and nodded pleased, handing you the doll. “Donna, it's incredible… She has the same spot as me,” you said amazed by her mastery, by having replicated you in such a perfect way.

“You were right, (Y/N), the color suits the dolls well,” she said, kissing you sweetly on the lips. “It's a gift for you, amore mio…”

“Wow… It's amazing, Donna, I don't know what to say…”

“Just say that you will continue being the way you are… That you will be my favorite doll forever…”

[airasora]

Disney princess casual outfits from best to worst IMO

@lovestrucklyuniverse asked me what my favorite and least favorite Disney casual outfits were since I made a tier list on which fancy dresses! So once again I've made both a tier template, which you can try yourself HERE, and also did an actual list from favorite to least.

Moana

You guys may remember that I'm one of the people who were PISSED when Disney Dreamlight Valley changed the color scheme for the Moana 10 level friendship dress... and I am STILL MAD. I LOVE HER COLOR SCHEME. Honestly I love her ending outfit too, I forgot to add it to my Disney princess gowns tier (oops) but overall I've always had an affinity for Polynesian-Hawaiian fashion. I love all the details without it being overwhelming, and that necklace is gorgeous too.

Anna

I know that TECHNICALLY Anna's real "casual outfit" is actually just her fancy gown, but with sleeves and a cape - or at least it's very similar, so for me that meant I might as well do this dress instead. Could I have gone into Frozen 2? Sure, but I didn't want to do that because then I would have to consider ALL Anne and Elsa's outfits and that'd take forever. If I were gonna do that, I'd rather do a list of ONLY Frozen outfits or something xD Anyway, I think this dress is HELLA cute! A real nice spring dress, with some cute nature details at the bottom along with a "corset" and long sleeves. I like that while it's overall green, there are some pink accents and it has multiple shades of green so it doesn't feel too simple.

Rapunzel

I already mentioned this in the gown version of this tier list, but I am overall a fan of all of Rapunzel's outfits. I would have LOVED to see her green concept art dress though, holy crap. I hope there's a cosplayer out there who has made that dress cause I want to see it irl SO BAD xD Anyway, the dress we got is cute! Different shades of pink and purple, SMALL puff sleeves and loads of small details along with lace. I'm a lace girl, love lace, will never say no to lace. Probably.

Mulan

Now see THIS is a much better outfit for Mulan! Which is interesting cause it has a similar color scheme to her fancy hanfu, dark blue, dark red, grayish white and a pinkish red as well. So... why does this look WAY better to me??? I don't know. It just does. Perhaps I'll try to do a color swap of these two and see if I can make myself like Mulan's fancy hanfu more that way xD

Ariel

This dress is so stinking cute and the bigass bow in Ariel's hair is hilariously oversized, but in the best way xD I like that it's blue, but three different shades so it - like I've mentioned earlier with Anna's dress - isn't just one solid color. It is just a tiiiiiny bit too simple for my liking though, which is why it isn't higher on my list.

Belle

Not gonna lie, I heavily prefer Belle's peasant dress to her fancy, gold gown. It's simply color-wise, but the color switch around enough for it to not feel like one solid block of color. White shirt with poofy sleeves and a collar, blue dress with thick straps and a white petticoat along with a white apron. No cute little details or anything like that, but it doesn't feel that boring despite only being two colors. Also, her hairstyle is super cute.

Kida

I actually like like Kida's outfit just fine. It's nothing fantastic though and I think it's a little bit safe. Atlantians are, from what I know, a fictional group of people and culture, right? Why not experiment a bit more? Make her wear something that stands out! Instead it's just something I can imagine seeing a random white girl wear at the beach. It's not bad, but it's one of my many issues with the visuals of the Atlantis movie.

Jasmine

I like Jasmine's outfit fine. But it's all the same shade of blue and has NO details whatsoever. Yes, the "belt" of her pants is a lighter shade, but not by much. If it had a bit more decoration on it, I would like it a lot more. And I don't like those earrings. They've confused me since I was a child. How high up are her earlobes supposed to be exactly??? I don't know about you guys, but my earlobes are parallel to just below my cheek bones. On Jasmine, based on the earrings, it looks like her earlobes are parallel to the lower part of her eye which is just VERY high up, isn't it??? Either way, a fairly simply outfit that I think only really works cause Jasmine's own beauty carries it all.

Elsa

Eh... this dress should be right up my alley. I love cyan and teal shades, it has long sleeves, there's purple there, there's some cute details without them being overwhelming. On paper, I should love or at least like this dress and I just... don't. I really can't explain why, it just doesn't do anything for me. My only guess would be that it's tight. It looks limiting. Which is kinda the idea given what Elsa is going through at this point in the movie, so I like it for her, but personally it just doesn't work for me.

Merida

Again. Dark teal/cyan, but with Merida's dress I can easily explain why I dislike it: IT'S SO FUCKING BORING. It's one solid color all the way through and then it has those small frilly thingies on her wrists and upper body and I despise frills. Hate them. Reminds me of whipped cream and I hate whipped cream too xD And the frills being fucking beige doesn't help xD

Aurora

Boring peasant gown is boring, but I love that corset! But there's too much... beige, gray and just... I like color, okay? Or at least just not "neutral" colors like this. I might honestly have liked it more if it had dark, warm, earthy color instead. I am anti-beige xD Also never been a fan of this type of collar. It's giving school uniform and it makes me feel two types of ways and neither are what I should be feeling looking at a Disney movie xD

Tiana

This shade of yellow is one of the ONLY shades of yellow I actually like, otherwise I am just not a fan of yellow, usually. I do think it suits Tiana very well, but outside of that it's just very plain. I like the silhouette, sorta, but that's about it.

Pocahontas

Again, not a fan of neutral beige'ish colors. And what pisses me off is that if you google Native American fashion, there are SO MANY gorgeous examples. Once again, I get that animators might not want to put a bunch of details on an outfit of the main character, but goddammit, why does it have to be THIS boring??? Thankfully the necklace is there, but the dress on its own is just really boring.

Cinderella

Do I even have to explain this one? Disney has made plenty of cute "housemaid" outfits (Nanny from 101 Dalmatians, Mrs. Jenkins from Pocahontas 2) and this is just not one of them. But considering that one of the reasons Cinderella is wearing such a plain outfit is to make her ballgown that much more amazing, and that I find that to be one of the most boring Disney ballgowns, this outfit doesn't work for me.

Snow White

I mean, come on. It's supposed to be ugly and they succeeded. Can't really hate it for doing its job xD

Check out my tier list for Disney princess gowns here!

[shiftingdiariesofophelia]

Ophelia would like to preface this by saying:

I AM NOT AN ARTIST!!!

I draw for funsies occasionally and it’s really not that deep to me. But- in an effort to try to find a dress I’d realistically like to wear to the Yule ball- I found that nothing really had the colors, shape, and general design that I wanted. I’m nothing if not particular. Instead of doing the rational thing and just finding a dress I sort of like and saying it’s good enough, I’ve gone and drawn a mock-up of about what my Yule Ball outfit would look like entirely. Honestly it’s more fun than anything serious.

(If anyone makes fun of me I will fr cry so keep ur negative opinions to urself)

(I did use a person sketch model outline that came with the art program I used because that for real would have added a whole two hours for me to do myself and this whole thing was to design the dress anyway, so idc)

So the idea is a dark green dress, probably a silk-ish material. It begins at the mid-neck area and goes down into a sort of “spine” of a corset-style front, which is beaded with small silver accenting. Then there’s the floor-length skirt piece, very simple but flowy. I’m sure I’d need to wear a petticoat but that’s fine tbh. There’s also the same beading around the neckline if you look closely. The drawing is cartoonish in nature but it’s the general shape and idea of where everything is. The sleeves on the sides would be transparent (hence them in a different color) made of a dark green tulle. The makeup isn’t blended because I have no idea how digital art works, but the idea is a silver-green fade. Def sparkly. Green accent earrings bc Slytherins gotta represent house colors at all times. Also, peep the hair pins, specifically designed to be the three little stars that are drawn in the corner of the book’s pages! I thought it was cute idc. That locket also has significance and I don’t leave anywhere without it so I figured I’d add it for accuracy’s sake.

(Also I’d rather die than draw backgrounds. So. Purple it is.)

Yeah.

BUT THEN-

I was like “you know what else I don’t have a picture of? The specific way my wand looks in my head.” So then naturally, I needed to draw that as well. Again. I’m not an artist. You absolutely will find problems if you look hard enough because this is all just for fun. But- here’s my wand!

As you can see, it’s vine wood (same as Hermione’s, which I actually didn’t know until after I chose it!) with phoenix feather core. 11 1/2 inches because I ain’t no scrub. Mine’s a lighter vine material, some are darker, but vine is a vast wood type and has a bunch of colors and I wanted a lighter colored wand. The idea is that vines were actually carved into the wand as a decorative piece, with the leaves wrapping around the wand from the hilt to the tip. Realistically, it’d all be the same color. But for the art style it’s drawn in, the pop-out pieces are lighter to make them stand out against the frame of the wand. I had so much fun doing the details and it actually didn’t take me too long. If anyone’s bored and also has a HP dr I’d recommend designing your own wand like this because it’s so interesting to learn about wand components and designing something fun and specific to yourself!

(Aka Ophelia’s doing everything except for studying for finals 🤭 but it’s okay if i don’t pass i’ll simply just die so it’s really not that deep.)

[tresradiossolis]

Elio dons a resigned pout at Russel's words, hands absentmindedly running along their skirt to smooth it out, mostly to do something with their hands. She guessed he was right... But she didn't see the purpose of it. The daycare was for the children! What were all of these folks doing here anyway?

The idea that they were there for him was not even gracing his mind. What helped that was the fact that he also had no idea about what the outfit she was wearing was used for. Perhaps sol came across as, well, stupid, for not realising the reality of the situation... but that was just how little they thought of themself. If asked about her physique, she wouldn't compliment herself on her curves and what not, he'd sooner tell you that he was a little pudgy, her hair a mess, note that he's covered in freckles, and that it was hard to find clothes that fit properly because of her short stature and large bosom that she thought was just awkward on her. Nose being too pointy, all that kinda stuff... Not a looker by any means. Not to him.

All he knew, was that this was terrible for Sunny. And the Daycare was meant to be his safe haven... He had called it that himself, when the two of them had gotten a chance to speak after hours. Elio knew more about Sunny than any other employee, because he knew how to listen, and he was with him all day long. That's why, when Russel asked sol to give him the low down on how Sunny was doing, Elio smiled once more, happy to be able to help. Even better, to help Sunny! Knowing that he'd rather not have the conversation at all.

When Russel took his seat at the desk, Elio ran over and hopped up on it next to the little picture of Roxanne that had remained there for many a year now. Patting down the skirt that was pushed up by a cute little petticoat underneath it (protecting her innocence from anybody at the door) he leaned forward towards Russel while kicking their legs back and forth over the edge from where he sat on the desk.

"Sure, I'll help!! You can ask me anything, I know quite a lot about Sunny by now... But I won't tell you any of his secrets, so don't expect that!"

With fingers intertwined in their lap, they went on.

"Sunny's been staying near the ball pit all morning though, I can say that much... He seems pretty tense and never looks over at the door, even if the kids run over there. He's aware of where they all are though, as long as they wear their little bracelets of course."

A small addition to the Daycare after Sunny got upgraded, helping him handle keeping an eye on all kids at the same time. Apparently it was inspired by an older animatronic with a similar job as his. It could sometimes contribute to the overload however...

"He seems to be relatively fine though, for being Sunny that is... We haven't had a black out yet today either, but you'll never know when those will strike, so..."

tresradiossolis​:

Elio slowly stopped hopping about when he realised that Russel wasn’t even looking at him, confusion settling in over his features as she didn’t understand what she did wrong. Had she said something annoying? That’d be on brand for them… Suddenly they felt embarrassed, not really knowing what they could do differently, sol shuffled her feet together and placed her hands politely on the front of her skirt, eyes cast down.

Then he responded to sols inquiry regarding Sunny. Although still a bit self-conscious about speaking up, the Daycare Assistant tried a little smile once more.

“I’m glad that someone came around for that actually… He’s been a little tense all morning, I guess Easter brings in more people than I thought.”

Ever oblivious, Elio gestures towards the big doors leading into the daycare, which were where the adults generally tended to gather by the end of the day. It was also where the kids went in and out for the bathroom and visiting the theater. It was just.. an odd thing to see before noon.

“Do you think we have permission to shut the doors? They’re making it hard to focus on the kids…”

In typical intern fashion, Elio was afraid of making any big decisions on his own. All the while, Sunny was located near the ball pit in the other end of the daycare. Focusing on the children, rather than the unpleasant adults. Russel’s tools were indeed laid out properly on the front desk for him to pick up, arranged in alphabetical order and everything.

A brow raised at the change in their behavior - unaware of his behavior had had that effect for once. Doing what he did best Russel acted as if nothing had changed placing the heavy tool box on the front desk, flipping open its worn latches and placing the tools away one by one. Huh. They seemed cleaner than usual. Which in it self was remarkable considering he had been trying to work the grime off the second hand tools ever since he started.

Between the repetitive upbeat music and high pitch screams of the children it was remarkable anyone could focus at all. It was a sensory nightmare to some poor sap out there. 

Speaking of poor saps…

On Elio’s admission that the DA had been stressed perhaps it would do more harm than good to approach him now. It was clear apart from Freddy not a single bot was happy to see someone from Parts and Services. Even if Russel wasn’t an official technician the stigma of being part of something that would take them away from their jobs still followed him.

Which was fair- sometimes it did come to that. It wasn’t like the scenery down to the ol’ bubble was very welcoming and the tests conducted were disorientating 

“There is a better chance a snowball surviving in hell before they let you close those doors.” he began bluntly sitting down with a heavy thud in the chair, deciding to take the opportunity to properly organize his toolbox, half paying attention between Sunny and Elio now. 

“Considering folks have to buy a pass to have access to this area they are making far too much money and care far too little on the stress it puts on the staff.” A problem that could easily be solved, but there was very little way one could put the older male population was here for a different kind of show without embarassing the poor guy. Which in itself could cause a scene that would attract more attention which frankly would make things even worse. Well, probably but it was best to stay out of it as best he could. 

“ I’m probably going to be another stress factor for Sunny. Guys like me usually show up when something is wrong, granted I probably have a grace period before he notices I’m here to observe him instead of collecting my tools and leaving. So maybe you can clue me in on how he is holding up and responding to said stress?” 

[marshmallowprotection]

It’s 2 am. The bunker is quiet, or about as quiet as it ever seems to get. Most people are in their rooms, asleep, or at least pretending to be. I go up to knock on Lila’s door. She opens it to see me, in a unicorn onesie with a full face of makeup on.

“Do you think I would look good with bangs?”

Lila seemed surprised that Bree had dropped by her workroom. Now, it wasn't often that she was going to admit that she was up this late. When it happened to be a night where she and Saeran... couldn't be in the same room, she would stay up until he fell asleep on call and then try to get bits of work done before she dozed off on her couch or something.

Sometimes, she'd slip out of the room at the same time that Saeyoung did and they would wind up talking about shared interests until Saeran would inevitably wake up from some of his nightmares and she would wind up in their bed, anyway, curling her arms around him and sighing against his shoulders.

Though, it was pretty late tonight. Saeran hadn't had an episode. He wasn't even trying to sleep at this hour himself. Saeran was actually sprawled on the couch tonight in her bundle of plushies as she worked at a canvas on a piece that she had been doing for a while. He was looking from his spot to see who had come to see them.

Lila blinked. She was suprised by the question, to say the least. Though, she wasn't surprised by a face filled with makeup at this hour, "Bangs? An impulse decision or are you just curious?"

Bree shuffled, nervously kicking one foot from left to right. She had been anxious about asking but she felt like this was the right place to go if she wanted to learn something. She could have talked to Minji, who had very cute bangs, but it was hard to talk to her sometimes!

"Um, I guess... I just wondered if it would be cute on me?" She offered.

Lila nodded. She understood the sentiment. She had been young and lost before, trying to find a sense of style that she liked. It wasn't until those eyes of hers had landed on petticoats that she'd known what she wanted. Small changes made a big difference!

She took Bree by the hand and led her into the workroom, shutting the door behind them as the young girl paddled across the carpet and sat next to Saeran. He gave her a small nod in reply but didn't add anything. "Staying up late tonight, then?"

"She's been working nonstop. I just don't want her to fall asleep at her desk again," he said, with a dull edge to his voice. He was masking his true concern as he placed a small taffy in her hands to have. "Besides, she shares the candy with me that she eats to stay up."

Bree smiled.

It was a few seconds later that Lila returned from her desk with her phone in hand. She unlocked it and placed the device into Bree's hands. Though, it seemed like she touched a sore subject. "See, I had bangs once! I thought it was cute on me, but I changed my mind later."

The photo seemed to be of Lila when she was a younger teenager. She had bangs, of course, but she was wearing a cute little beanie and jumper dress. There was a blonde girl standing next to her in the photo with short curly hair, but Bree could only assume it was her sister given that they looked so similar in the face.

Something about her eyes looked... lonely, in the photo. But, she seemed to be pleased with how her hair looked because she'd styled it so careful into waves in the photo.

But her wariness, now?

It probably had a lot to do with the fact that Lila had... cut her hair poorly after Mint Eye. She had not felt in control and just... punished herself. Her hair meant a lot to her, but nobody commented on it because they knew she was wary. Minji had said not to talk about it. She was the one who did manage to salvage the hack job.

She didn't seem to mind talking to Bree about it, though. It was a good sign.

Maybe.

"Hair grows back," she said, gently. Her brown eyes meeting Saeran's for a moment. Bree did not miss the faint smile on his face. "So, if you want to try something new, I think it's worth it. You'll probably look adorable! You have the face for it, and even if you don't like it, it grows back, and there's always cute hair clips I can give you to make it sparkle."

"...Can it be a bunny?"

Saeran snorted, "She bought too many bunny themed ones, of course, you can have a bunny."

"I have kitty charms, too!" Lila replied. She crossed her arms over her chest. "Cut me some slack. Certain outfits need the right accents, you know."

Bree looked up from the phone. "Well, you did. But, I saw Saeyoung..."

"That's a brother in law that I'm going to have a stern talking to, then."

[katyobsesses]

Katy!! if you want to, how about you rank glee competitions outfits (not necessarily new directions) <3

ooooo Myle!! This is a fun ask! Sorry I'm so late responding to it I've been away from my computer a lot this week and didn't have time to sit down and rank all of these!

I've put a little tier list thing together for the ND outfits here

and the reasoning and actual ranking is under the cut (worst to best) as well as some images of my fave Non ND competition outfits :)

S6 Sectionals/Regionals:

I hate it. I understand the reasoning for it but I hate it. Flashbacks to Secondary school. I know just how uncomfortable these would be, how they dance in them I have no idea. Like they look cute but NO. Just no. You're McKinley students now Warblers, learn to wear other clothes. You can dress how you want now. You could have honored Dalton by wearing navy and red and not blazers. Apparently I really hate this competition look... I thought S2 Regionals would be the losers but...

S2 Nationals:

I actually almost forgot this one! I hate it <3 the little flower at the bust for the girls, the empire waist, the white ties for the boys, it looks like they're wearing two tone shoes too 🤢 I just... no. Obviously they chose these before Kurt came back from the Warblers... huh maybe that's why most of the S2 looks are terrible. They didn't have Kurt there to guide them. Maybe the reason the only good look in S2 is the sectional's one is because Kurt maybe helped out with ideas before he transferred. Anyway I hate this look. It's boring while being way too busy, but also just black... idk i hate it.

S2 Regionals:

I love the original songs, Loser Like Me is Iconic, and sure these outfits are also Iconic but not in a good way! Those dresses are terrible, they look like bad bridesmaid dresses and they're both shiny and completely creased and the three quarter leggings are a choice. (I love the shoes though) Also the boys are litterally just wearing black, at least wear a matching tie!

S1 Sectionals:

The Only reason this is ranked higher than the S2 Regionals is the lack of leggings. it's just boring and also I hate the flats the girls are wearing and the way the belts sit just under the bust on the girls.

S1 Regionals:

Yes, this is Iconic, sure but... I've always hated it. ALL of the girls look pregnant, not just Quinn, the beehive hairdo is a Choice, and I'm not a fan of halternecks. Also the colour gold isn't the prettiest shade, and I hate the texture on the dresses. (that being said the dresses really remind me of this one I was givn from my cousin when she was clearing out her closet that I wore once for a New Years Eve party with friends in maybe my first year of uni in 2014 (or maybe the year before) except mine was black and strapless)

S5 Nationals:

Is there a reason for the pink flowers? or the pink in general? Like are they meant to symbolise something? The dresses are cute but I'm not the biggest halterneck fan and I think it annoys me where the belt lies on them because it looks like the dress is meant to be an empire waist and then it's cut awkwardly by a ribbon. It's a cute dress, why do that? I love the petticoats and the fullness of the skirt, and the shoes are cute. I don't like the boy's outfits. why are they keeping them buttoned the entire time? it makes the fit of them look awkward! the last time they wore white blazers (S3 secionals) they unbuttoned them as they danced and the lines looked better. I hate that I don't really like these outfits because I love the setlist so much and it makes me cry everytime.

S3 Sectionals:

Love it! The boys look interesting and dynamic for once, i love the tuxs(?) a lot and Quinn and Tina look so good 😍 I love thier skirts so much and their shoeessss! Kurt and Blaine were definately the ones to push for everyone wearing bowties.

S2 Sectionals:

again with the three quarter length leggings... and all of them are different lengths too, i mean i know it's 2010 but like... no! But i love this anyway. I love the ombre look and the shoes are adorable. I also really like the burgandy shirts the boys are wearing.

S4 Sectionals:

I love the dresses and the shoes and the boys outfits are nice with the blazers with gold piping but the girls dresses are just inferior versions of the S3 Regionals dresses, though i do prefer the wider band at the waist I miss the red petticoat and the neckline isn't as pretty or flattering as the S3 regionals dress.

S6 Invitationals:

I love these looks so much! Finally switching up the shirt colours for the boys again instead of them in just black or white! it's such a pretty blue too and the shades of the dresses and the shirt match! I love the lace on the girl's dresses (i just recently rewatched this episode and was mezmerised by the dresses) and the strappy heals are really cute.

S4 Regionals:

😍 the girl's dresses are so so so so soooooo pretty! I love the purple and the little belt and the fullness of the skirt and the neckline and the black petticoat anahsdkaghk. and the shoes are so cute too. Great look!

The boys however 😬 I don't like it. Why cardigans? They look like they're wearing school uniforms and ugly ones at that. The cardigans are baggy on all of them! I would have preferred maybe a simple black shirt rolled up the the elbows and purple tie combo, OR just a purple shirt with sleaves rolled to the elbows (kinda like S2 sectionals) also their ties are ever so slightly lighter than the girl's dresses and that is really annoying me.

S3 Regionals:

Yes. just YES. I love the fullness of the skirts, I love the red petticoats for some McKinley High spirit, I love the gold accents at the neckline and the belt and the headband, the girls also have these cute shoes too. And then there's the boys with their all black with gold accents! I love that too! I maybe would have had them wearing something red - maybe the shirts, maybe the bow ties, maybe the suspenders - but I still love the look!

S3 Nationals:

The t-strap shoes 😍 I love the cute sort of vintage style the girls have with the shoes and the hair! I would have maybe added a red lip on all of the girls to complete the look, like Rachel has and maybe had rachel have her hair up too, but I guess she's the lead soloist so it makes some sence to make her stand out a bit from the other girls. I alo love these dresses. I think my favourite dresses are the ones where they have really full skirts. The boys are cute and I like the matching pop of red in the ties but I maybe would have lost the vests, personally, and maybe they should be wearing bowties to match the little bow on the girl's dresses. hmm maybe all black with red bowties and a red belt/cumberbund as an inverted look of the girls and also maybe long sleaves rolled to the elbow.

Non ND competition outfits I love:

The Warblers!

Yes, their uniforms may uncomfortably remind me of my own School Uniform for Secondary (ours were red and black striped ties and solid black blazers with black skirts/trousers but close enough) but they are iconic 🥰

Harmony and whatever her Show Choir was called.

I love the boy's outfits with the untied bowties, but most of all I love the girl's dresses and the slicked back hair and red lips. I wish Harmony had been a sort of antagonist in S4 like it seemed they were alluding too with her line of "I'm only a Sophmore" I love her.

Vocal Adrenaline S2 Nationals

I think I just like it when the boys are wearing a coloured shirt, also these dresses are stunning and I remember wanting to find something like them for my Prom! (my Prom dress was kinda like these but long and one shoulder and not as poofy) - I also like the bohemian rhapsody look for the guys i just don't like the girl's dresses much

The Rainbow Connection dudes:

I hope they had more members than in this image... that is not a regulation team. BUT I love the fact that they look like butlers.

John Baptiste and his Show Choir:

Yes. the girls poofy dresses, the boys colourful suits, the costume change. just yes. these guys understand show choir. (however the turquoise of the girls dresses with the blue of the boys is annoying me)

S6 The Falconeers (or whatever)

I mean... they had falcons with them, plus cute turquoise dresses with sparkles, what's not to like!?

Vocal Adrenaline S6 Invitationals:

These guys went all out, I mean it's hideous but... wow

(that's all that's coming to my head in terms of Non ND outfits but a lot of the time they were better than NDs lol)

[genshin-obsessed]

Sorry to bother you, but i’d like a match if you don’t mind—

I’d prefer to be matched with a male, but if you can’t think of anyone female works too.

A romantic match would be nice.

A few things about me:

I’m incredibly shy, but i’m a big romantic and often fantasize about meeting the prince of my dreams, not that i’d tell anyone in real life that, anyways. I’m incredibly indecisive, I can’t make a proper decision for the life of me.

I do have a bad habit of apologizing too much, and I often annoy others, so someone who can be patient with me would be nice, but tough love works, too.

I’m going to say that I have some mental illnesses as well, I feel like it’d be important to know, I have really bad anxiety, which causes a lot of the habits that cause people to be annoyed with me, i have ADHD as well, which makes it hard for me to read a room properly and often say the wrong thing at the wrong time, I also have Tourette’s syndrome, which cause tics and twitches when I get anxious or when something else triggers it. I can also have depressive episodes, so someone who can devote time to me when i need it will be nice.

I personally dress up in cute things, if that’s what you mean by style. I like to wear petticoats under my skirts to make them poofier, I also really like pink, so maybe someone who won’t dislike my sense of fashion.

I personally am looking for someone who can make me feel worthwhile, while at the same time be playful towards me as well. I sort of want someone who isn’t opposed to my clingyness, and will also be clingy and needy at times, so I never feel alone.

I’m sorry to have bothered you, have a good day if you are reading this!

I hope you have you like it!!

I match you with Chongyun!

You and Chongyun had been friends for a while before you two ultimately confessed. Chongyun had liked you the longest, almost since you first met while your feelings grew overtime.

Chongyun loves your romantic side and even loves all the little date ideas you have! Chongyun usually chooses between the many ideas you give him, since you’re not the best at deciding.

Chongyun wants to help you with your habitual apologizing. He knows it’s not good for you to be apologetic for things that may be out of your control so he wants to help you get over that.

He has mastered how to handle your problems so you don’t have to deal with them alone. He’s got techniques to help your anxiety, ADHD, and depression. He’s also keenly aware of your triggers (for your Tourette’s) and does his best to help you before they get too much for you to handle.

Chongyun loves your style and often wants to match it. He also loves to help choose your outfits, something he takes great pride in when someone compliments you. He’s so infatuated with you that he finds your clinginess adorable and is quite clingy himself. He wants to spend every minute with you.

Chongyun is very patient and observant, helping you in any way he can. He does love you after all.

[wri0thesley]

dfnjvngfb please be nice to me about this because it’s VERY self-indulgent and also very explicitly self-insert and not reader-insert, but . . . i wrote some nat/prosciutto inspired by an ask i saw about being a dance teacher. and i thought; hmm. i’ve always wanted to learn how to swing dance for that 50s repro life, and i bet prosciutto would be up for that-- 

is this a meet cute

[brief a/n: nat is a 23 year old opera student at a fancy italian conservatory. they left a while before studying bc opera singer’s voices mature and also christ the price, they had to save up. imagine this dress. prosciutto swing dances because he likes it and also he picks up older women with rich husbands and money to burn who’ll spoil him a bit, heaven knows la squadra doesn’t pay him enough. he’s amassed quite a bit of wealth just by being older women’s - and sometimes men’s - sugar baby, but he likes the dancing enough to carry on doing it. usignolo means songbird/nightingale]

You linger outside the studio’s building for a minute, trying to gather up the courage to go inside. Sure, this had seemed like a good idea last week when you’d seen a flyer on your conservatoire’s notice board, and considered how your International Studies Coordinator had suggested getting more involved in the local community. You’re pretty sure she’d intended for you to try bars, socialising with other people your age . . . but. Well. You’ve never really been one for loud clubs or thumping music.

So you’d taken a phone number and booked a place in the class and tried to ignore the pounding of anxiety in your throat every time you thought about actually making a social commitment in a country you’ve barely been in for a month. 

You bite your lip, wondering if you’re going to be overdressed. Sure, you’re used to being overdressed - being in a full face of makeup and neat heels and stockings in an eight-in-the-morning Music Theory class when your classmates look like the walking dead after a night enjoying Naples’ nightlife, but those are people who you see every day. Making a good impression on people you hope to be social with . . . that’s a totally different can of worms. 

Some people have hurried past you in full ballet garb; neat chignons, elegant lines, holding their canvas dance bags and shooting you curious glances. You’re not built to be a ballet dancer, you suppose; but then again, that’s not why you’re here. You check the time again. You’re five minutes early. 

Okay. Good impression. You’re not going to walk into the room ten minutes late. Maybe if you get in there early, you can seem like you belong. Ignoring the pounding in your stomach and the fact your nerves are begging you to turn back and forget this whole idea, you push into the building and make your way to the dance studio number you were told to come to. Your heels clack on the wooden floor - you’d done as much research as you could before coming here (always terrified of being out of step, or just doing things wrong), but you can’t shake the nagging anxiety that perhaps you’re going to be the sore thumb.

God, you hope you’re not a sore thumb in all the worst reasons, peeking into one of the windows of the other studios and seeing a line of willowy androgynous ballet dancers, stretching elegant limbs up to the ceiling and pointing toes of well-muscled lithe legs. You tug at your dress, nervous again of your curves and your general being.

You push open the door to Studio Number Seven.

. . . Well.

Perhaps you shouldn’t have worried about being overdressed. The other people in here wearing dresses are wearing nice floral prints and swing skirts and neat cardigans. Your own black dress seems a little somber in comparison (cheered up by one of your collection of 1950s embroidered brooches), but that’s not the thing you notice. 

The thing you notice is the silver hair, the glasses perched on noses, the crow’s feet and the indulgent smiles when they see you. 

You are certainly not going to be befriending peers, that’s for sure. 

The instructor herself only has about a decade on you, and you’re almost relieved to see that she’s wearing a cherry-printed dress with faux Bettie Page bangs. That’s more like your kind of people. She bounces up to you, neat and enthusiastic.

“You’re Nat, right?” She asks, smiling, and you find yourself smiling back. “I know you said you were a student, but I was still expecting someone . . .” She gestures vaguely at the room around her, and you can’t help but let some of the tension drain out of your shoulders. 

“Yeah,” you say, “I’m not sure what I was expecting.”

She laughs. 

“Well,” she says, “it’s a dying art, swing dancing! We should be glad that there are young people wanting to take it up. Do you have any experience at all? You’re certainly dressed the part!” She winks at you. “I love seeing the outfits, honestly - one of my favourite parts of teaching for sure!”

You shake your head. 

“Not in swing dance,” you say. “A little in ballet and tap, but I guess that’s . . . not a transferable skill, huh?” She claps your shoulder.

“It means you’ve got some rhythm in you,” she says. “Now, let me see -- ah! I have the perfect partner for you. He’ll give you a hand whilst you’re finding your feet--”

She turns on her heel and disappears into the crowd of students, and that’s when you see him for the first time. He’s taller than the rest of the elderly bowed students, stoop-shouldered - standing above them with a quantity of slicked back blond hair and cheekbones you could cut diamonds with, sharply tailored suit cut to show off a muscled chest. He sees you looking at him and he turns his gaze on you, blue eyes icy, sweeping across your form in a way that makes you avert your eyes and try not to be swallowed up by the studio floor. You see, from the corner of your eye, the smirk . . . and then you see the instructor come over to him, tug gently on his arm and speak softly under her breath.

You’re flustered as the instructor brings the handsome blond over to you, flush rising to your cheeks - seeing your reaction to him, the man shoots you a charming smile, revealing the slightest overbite and a gap in his teeth, and oh . . . that’s unfair. He inclines his head, a half bow, holding out one hand for you to take as the instructor nods.

“This is Armando,” she says to you. “I think he’ll be a wonderful partner, he’s been coming here for months and he’s such a good teacher, I should be paying him some of my salary!”

“Just because you’re such a good teacher, I’m sure,” the blond man says. He turns to you as the instructor shoots you a wink and moves away to go towards the front of the room. His eyes on you make you burn warm. You resist the urge to chew on your lip, looking up at him through lowered lashes. 

“Did she . . .” You nod towards the instructor, “partner us together because you’re closer in age to me than everyone else?” 

The man hums, a small smile on his handsome face, as you hesitantly take his hand. His fingers are soft and warm but self-assured as he moves closer, other hand landing on the curve of your waist. His aftershave smells woodsy and smoky and it’s all you can do to not breathe it in deeply. 

“Perhaps,” he remarks, voice soft and deep. “I am only sixty five.”

“You must have an amazing skincare routine.” 

He smirks.

“I do.”

The instructor claps her hands together at the front of the class and you both turn, but his hand doesn’t let go of yours and his grip on your waist doesn’t falter. From the corner of your eye, you see looks from the other women in the class that are obviously jealousy. You try to ignore it; it’s unusual, for you to be the one people are jealous of. It’s almost . . . nice.

Still. You’re trying to make friends, so you don’t gloat in it.

The instructor talks, moving across the room, gently correcting some people’s holds, talking animatedly. She pauses by you and Armando, but she nods and smiles instead of touching you. As you and he begin to move, slowly, he leans in closer.

“You know . . . my name,” he says (there’s a lingering impression that something about this statement makes him uncomfortable; it’s strange to hear him sound unsure when every inch of him oozes confidence and surety). “But I don’t know yours. What brings you to our jolly class?”

“Nat,” you say, “just . . . just Nat.” He tips his head, leaving the conversation open, his eyes utterly focused on you in a way that you’ve never really felt. He seems genuinely invested. “I’m an opera singer. A student, I mean. At . . . at the conservatorio?” 

“Ah,” he says, smiling. “A nightingale.”

You blush, and the hand on your waist tightens imperceptibly at the way your eyes flicker away from him in embarrassment at the sweet name.

“And the swing dance?” He asks, one eyebrow raised. “I mean . . . I’m not complaining, but as you can see . . .” He inclines his head at the other students. 

“I just . . . like the fifties. You know . . . elegant dresses, petticoats, the music . . . I’m not romanticising it or anything, but I just like that idealised idea of it, you know? A-anyway! What about you? Y-you don’t look like the type--”

“Touche,” he says, smiling softly, but he doesn’t say anything beyond that. 

You and he spend the rest of the lesson partnered together. He’s elegant, quick, smiling at you when you catch his eye amongst a whirl of petticoats and a breathless swell of the music. You know that you’re a little clumsy on your feet (you can’t help that! Not with a man like this so close to you, leaning down to murmur close to your face, holding onto your waist so firmly as if he doesn’t want to let you go). 

He murmurs things about some of the other students as he whirls you around, that make you laugh and widen your eyes and insist ‘no!’. Every time he gets a rise out of you, a response of flushed cheeks and giggles and demurely turned down eyes, he seems to get a little more intense on how he’s handling you.

You’re in a mess of a beating heart and short breath and pink cheeks by the time that the instructor calls time on the day’s class, and you feel like you’ve had a successful time. Sure, you didn’t mingle with anybody else but . . . Armando, but you’ve had a good time. You feel confident and excited at the prospect of next week’s lesson. Pulling away from him and straightening yourself out a little, you offer him an apologetic smile.

“Sorry if I wasn’t very good,” you say. “I’m . . . I’m not the most graceful.” You gesture down to the curves of your body, that often feel so ungainly and as if they’re taking up more space than you deserve to. “I guess you’ll go back to another partner next week, but thank you for helping--”

He quirks his lips, one eyebrow raised. 

“I don’t have to.” He says. “I’m perfectly content to partner you, you know. You were . . . Well.” He laughs, a little soft noise that you can tell from the look in his eyes isn’t intended to be at all mocking. “You were a pleasure to dance with, if we were off-beat plenty of the time.” He pauses. “And . . . if you want, I’d be more than happy to go over some things with you before next week’s session,” he says, his words easy, and your heart skips a beat. You’d worried that maybe he’d be annoyed by being paired off with someone who’s got no idea what they’re doing, by someone who looks like you when a man like that probably spends most of his time surrounded by people just as beautiful--

“Really?” You ask, blinking up at him. “I don’t want to be an imposition.”

His laugh is light again, his fingers gently dancing up your arm, a touch that’s intended - you’re sure - to be comforting, but that sends a frisson of electricity all through you.

“Oh, you won’t be. As long as you’re willing to indulge me with dinner first, bella.”

You know that your blood rushes to your face even beneath the powder and the makeup, and you know, too, that there’s no way he misses it. A smirk pulls at the corner of his full mouth, and you question whether you actually fell over and hit your head at some point and are now hallucinating. 

“Perhaps afterwards,” you tell him. “I don’t know if I could dance on a full stomach.”

He laughs, the noise low and smooth. You can feel jealous eyes on your back - and can you blame them? Look at him. 

“I didn’t say it would be dancing, did I?”

“I--” Your brain moves lightning fast, trying to get your brain to respond to him in kind, but he doesn’t give you time to think of something witty. The hand on your arm moves, dancing across your collarbone, brushing the vintage brooch, resting briefly on the full warmth of your cheek, tipping your face up to him. 

“Verpazza, Wednesday night, 9PM,” he says to you. You recognise the name of one of the more upscale restaurants you pass on your way to classes from your shitty rented room in the boarding house for international students, and you fight to stop your eyes widening. Your poor student budget certainly wouldn’t allow for such luxuries. “Ask for Prosciutto’s table if you’re there before me. I’ll take care of it.”

There’s something in his smile that suggests to you he loves the idea of taking care of things; that he’s getting a real thrill out of playing the knight in shining armour. Well. You’ve heard plenty of tell about Italian men (and plenty of horror stories from other people in your class) - but he seems . . . indulgent. Like he loves the idea of providing for someone.

“Like the ham?” You ask him, and a flicker of amusement passes over his face. “Is that your surname?”

A flash of something else in his eyes. You can’t quite name it - but you don’t fail to notice his eyes flicker, as if checking nobody else is listening. He tries to keep his voice easy.

“Mm. An unfortunate family name, and a name that’s stuck.” He winks at you. “You’ll never hear anybody outside of this room call me . . . Armando.” The name sounds wrong on his tongue, the slightest grimace following the syllables. Blue eyes turning icy, just for a moment. He pulls himself back, smiling at you again. “You can call me Prosh, if you want.”

“You don’t seem the nickname type.” He laughs.

“Mm. Well. . . I’d prefer to hear the full thing, but if it’s your voice, usignolo--”

You recognise the nickname and flush, warm. The smile he gives you is crooked and makes your toes curl in your heels, your entire body feel warm, your head feel light. Okay, you might not have made friendly connections . . . but you’ve certainly made some kind of connection. 

“Wednesday?” You ask him, again, wanting to really feel sure. You’ve been . . . stood up, plenty of times. Used as a joke. Your shoulders draw in imperceptibly, but Prosciutto - you try and reconcile calling him after the meat - tilts his head to the side.

“Your phone,” he says, holding out a hand. “Let me put my number in, and you can call it for proof. I’m perfectly serious, cara. I’m a man of my word.” He looks at you softly, hand on your waist, and gently helps guide you out of the studio. Most of the other dancers have left by now, and you can see the instructor glancing towards you and clearly waiting for you two to leave too so she can prepare for her next class. Pausing in the corridor, he looks down at you, face perfectly serious. “I don’t know who’s had the nerve to hurt you in the past . . . but I’m not that kind of person.” 

You bite your lip, and he shifts closer to you. He’s not incredibly tall, but you’re small enough that the height difference feels pronounced. The hand is soft when he tips your chin up, blue eyes meeting blue eyes. His own are half-lidded, drifting down to your lips (when you’d applied the dark red lipstick marketed as ‘kissproof’ this morning, you hadn’t thought that it was going to be something that was tested!). He leans into you and you find yourself unconsciously rising onto your tiptoes--

The kiss he gives you is almost chaste, save for the slightest nip at your lower lip (you think about the gap between his front teeth and feel like you’re going to melt). Your breath stutters against his, the taste of mint toothpaste and smoke and honey leaving a tingle upon your mouth. 

“I’m serious,” he breathes against you, pulling back. “Nine in the evening. Wear something pretty,” his eyes flicker down, caressing the curves of your body in a way that makes you warm all over. “. . . though I don’t doubt you will.”

[the-fiction-witch]

Miraculous!

REAL LIFE X MIRACULOUS TALES OF LADYBUG AND CHAT NOIR COUPLE: TBS X READER RATING: FLIRTY + SWEET

WRITERS NOTES: Look at this! look at this amazingness! look how beautiful it is! look how amazing this is!  ^

I noticed the time and grabbed my bag running out the house but I tripped and fell down the stairs. "Are you alright y/n?" my mother asks

"I'm fine!" I yelled back getting up and running out my house "By mum, By dad!" I called out as I ran out the house down the busy London streets past the underground heading my way to class

"Are you sure your alright y/n?" Tikki asked me

"I'm fine Tikki, how many times have I fallen down those stairs?" I laughed to her as she poked her head out my handbag

"That's true, why are you in such a rush to get to class?" she asked

"I have decided! that today is the day!" I smiled "I was talking it over all night to Lilly" "You where?" she asks

"Yeah, where were you anyway last night?" I asked

"I had to go meet with plagg" she says

"Plagg?"

"The Kwami of the black cat" she explained

"Oohh" I nodded "Do you see each other a lot?"

"every so often,"

"You guys don't... talk about us do you?"

"No y/n Kwami's ae forbidden to talk about there owners" she explained

"that makes sense, don't want you guys telling about our secret identities" I laughed "But I'm a little nervous, but excited!"

"You'll do great y/n" she told me

"I do hope so" I said just as I arrived at class seeing lily stood outside waiting for me

"Are you gonna do it?" she asked me

"I am defiantly going to do it!" I told her "I am going to ask him to the dance tonight!"

"I believe in you y/n" she smiled

"What's going on?" Jack asked coming over to lily giving her a kiss

"Y/n's going to ask Thomas to the dance" Lily smiled

"Awww finally my ship shall be cannon!" he smiled just as the car arrived in front of the  building "Ohhh, I'll set him up for you y/n" he smiled giving lily a kiss and going over to the car as lily held my arm

"You'll be fine" she says

"Hey Thomas" Jack smiled as Thomas climbed out the car fixing his bag over his shoulder

"Hey man," Thomas yawned

"You alright?"

"Yeah, sorry man had a late night" He says coming over to us "Hey lily"

"Hey Thomas," she smiled

"Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh uh ummm hi- Uhhh well umm" I stuttered "Hi Thomas"

"Hi y/n" He smiled a little confused "I'll uhh see you girls later" He smiled heading inside

"Y/n?" Lily complained

"what?"

"You said you where going to?"

"I tried, I got out two words that's pretty good for me"

"Alright come on" she sighed as we headed inside,

"Next time Y/n" Tikki says

"Yeah next time" I sighed giving her a cookie

I sat in class gently staring at Thomas as we sat listening to everyone chatting and doing there work when suddenly the screen came on seeing a horrific person there eyes buttons and a thousand reels of ribbon with needles and scissors

"Hello. I have decided this world is far to torn I shall turn it into a beautiful tapestry and any peices I don't like I shall remove and replace" her voice echoed "I am the seamstress! and all shall obey me or perish!" she yelled "But the first I promised my supporter a gift, Wherever you are all of you, Bring me your Miraculous!"

"Ohh no" I sighed the teacher let us out so I ran to the bathroom locking myself in letting tikki fly out

"Y/n I think we could really be in trouble" she says

"I know Tikki, but we better get going they'll need us" I told her "Tikki, spots on!"

I smiled as I changed it and got up onto the roof seeing a huge ball of yawn atop big ben and streams of ribbon going across the city turning everything to fabric and stiches even the people into little sewn dolls

"My my, we have gotten ourselves into a stich of a situation haven't we milady" I heard beside me

"Ughhh" I sighed standing up looking at his smirking face as he fixed his fluffy hair "Why is it always you?" I sighed poking his chest

"Awww have you missed me bugaboo?" he smiled holding my hand

"No I have no, where's rena and carapse anyway chat?" I asked

"No idea, probably hididng in a alley making out again... which in all honesty does sound rather like a good idea wouldn't you say milady?"

"Chat Noir. I am telling you this for the last time, quit with the flirty face before I shove that baton where the sun doesn't shine"

"Ohh will you now?" He smirked

"Have we interrupted something?" Rena asks as she stood behind us with carapse in tow

"No you haven't, Come on everyone Lets get working" I explain "Carapase get a defensive going. Rena get working on a distraction, Kitty get us a way in"

"With pleasure Milady" He smirked as we all headed to the ball quickly seeing the Seamstress stood ontop controlling it all "I think attack from above my be out best bets"

"I agree kitty"

"why can't you always agree with me bugaboo?"

"Chat focus!"

"Your right Milady" we headed over trying to figure out where her akuma was hiding but all we manged to do was get bundled up in ribbon "Oooohh I knew we had a closely stitched friendship ladybug?" He smirked against me

"Really chat" I sighed "See this is why thee are times I just call rena and carapse"

"Awww don't you like being wrapped up with me bugaboo?" He asked "Cataclusum!" He yelled breaking the ribbons between us ....

"Gotta go, you guys wrap this up" Carapse said as him and rena where about to change back

"Miraculous Ladybug!" I smiled throwing my lucky charm into the air returning London to how it was before, "All better, about time we get back too"

"Actually Ladybug, I wanted to ask you something?"

"what is it kitty?"

"what are you doing tonight?" He asked

"Well, I thought I was going to be busy-"

"So your free? I was wondering if you wanted to meet with me somewhere tonight? for a little date?" he asks

"I'm sorry Chat Noir, You know we can't, I'm sorry Kitty" I said ringing his little bell "I'll see you around"

"Please Milady" he said holding my arm

"Chat I have to my miraculous is running out"

"Please, Let me see you. I promise I'll keep it a secret, I'll let you see me too" He explained "Please Bugaboo"

"Maybe another time kitty" I said "I'm sorry" I told him rushing off home .

I sighed and went down into the underground "Claws in"

"You did your best Thomas. maybe Ladybug isn't ready for you" he explained

"Your right plagg, come on lets go home" I sighed

"Well you can always take one of those cute girls to the dance tonight?" he suggested

"I think I'll just stay home plagg, I wanted to go out with ladybug"

"Well you could always just go to the dance with jack and lily?"

"I'd rather not all they'll do is make out with each other"

"You could always take y/n?"

"I don't think y/n likes me Plagg,"

"Well whatever we're doing tonight can I have some camembert already?"

"Of course you can" I laughed giving him some cheese, I headed back to class everyone still on break from what had all happened jack and lily snuggled up in the corner together I saw y/n sat on the bench all alone so I went over sitting with her "Hey?"

"Uuuhh ohhh ummm Hey" She smiled

"You going to the dance tonight?" I asked

"Well... I uhh... No"

"Yeah, me either." I said "Hey? you wanna come over tonight? rather then going to the dance? Maybe we can sit and just watch some Netflix or something?"

"I uhh... I'd like that" she smiled...

I smirked a little pulling her closer as we kissed the tv playing some show I didn't know what and frankly I didn't really care either, as our lips moved almost aggressively against each other both of us tried and excited, tugging her even closer running my hands across her beautiful red dress. feeling her hips under the petticoats, her hands tugging desperately on my shirt starting to undo the buttons a little as her hands slipped down from tugging on my hair, I pulled her closer kissing her deeper and moving her to sit her on my lap holding her hips a little as she wrapped her legs around me.

"Breaking news! a new supervillain is attacking London!" the news reporter said interrupting our show and out making out as y/n turned to see it

"Ohh come on hawk moth! can't you respect that Thursdays are date night" I sighed

"The world isn't ending kitty, we can have... five more minuets" she smiled turning my face back to her

"Umm I'm sure we can Milady" I smirked pulling her back to kissing me

"I promise I shall in case the world in ice! unless I get ladybug and chat noir's miraculous!" that voice yelled from the tv

"Ohh god not this guy again" she sighed getting up and fixing her dress and her hair "We are going to have to deal with this thomas"

"Ohh but bugaboo!" I whine getting up and pulling her closer trying to cuddle her and kiss her again

"Come on kitty, its just freezer boy it'll be like ten minuets"

"Ughh fine, But then home the rest of the night?"

"I promise kitty" she smiled "Where's tikki and plagg?"

"Uhhh... they where on there pillow last I checked" I told her as I looked to the pillow they usual sit on when we watch tv

"Tikki? Plagg?" she asks looking around as there pillow was empty

"Plagg? Tikki?" I asked trying to find them both and we found them on there little bed clearly doing something

"what? It's date night for us too you know" Plagg complained

"Come on guys, its date night I want this over with so we can get back to our show" y/n tells them

"Yeah your show? and me and Tikki wanna get back to reading our book?" Plagg laughs

"Don't get smart with me Plagg or I'm cutting you off the camembert" I warned him

"Nooo! Thomas you can't do that to me!" Plagg whined

"Come on plagg they need us" Tikki told him

"Good girl tikki" Y/n smiled "Tikki Spots on!"

"Plagg Claws out!" I smirked transforming too "Five minuets?"

"Five minuets kitty" she smirked ringing my bell and giving me a kiss

"Alright Buggaboo" I smirked running my hand across her skin tight outfit

"Hey, hands where I can see them chat or a little kitty's not going to get to snuggle his little love bug?" she smirked going to the window

"Then maybe my little love bug shouldn't wear something so.... revealing, How's a poor little kitty meant to resist her?"

"The quicker we get going? the quicker we can get back kitty"

"Can we have a little sugar before we go bugaboo?"

"Come on Chat or no sugar at all" she smiled "Then the little kitty won't get a his little bug to ride on him" she smirked rushing off out

"Yes Milady" I smirked Happily following her.

[tamilkerr]

Lolita lovers

Wondering those busy hallways alone always unnerved Charlotte. Yet here she is  wondering with no sight of her friend, holding down her skirt while she walked around in circles. She was going from the stall that sold the melon soda to the one that sold the figures of pretty girls, and then back round again.

  It seemed that her friend had left the convention without her and she could feel the tears welling up in her eyes “I just want to lay on the floor and cry.” She murmured to herself, but she couldn't, her dress would get dirty.So Charlotte found a solitary corner, crouched down to the floor and started to take many shallow breaths. She did this to stop herself from getting too anxious. She was just about to break down when she heard it. 

 “Hi.” A very soft voice greeted her from above. 

Charlotte looked up to see a hand reaching for her. “Are you ok, you look upset” asked a very cute girl in a similar sort of dress to Charlotte, but this one was black instead of pink. 

“Oh I’m fine, I just..” Charlotte paused and took a deep breath. “I can’t find my friend.” She said.The girl with the black dress and hair to match, simply said “I will help you.” prompting Charlotte to finally take the hand the girl had offered. Soon Charlotte was on her feet. 

 The girls had walked most of the con floor enjoying each other's company and conversation “So you're a gothic lolita then?” Charlotte twiddles her thumbs together, “yes it’s only gothic for me, what about you, what's your style of lolita fashion?”.

 tucking her black hair behind her ear to listen to the answer “well I'm not sure yet, this is my first time wearing lolita” the blonde sounded unsure of herself.    

 Placing a gentle hand on her pink sleeve “well I would continue with the sweet style, it looks really good on you” she blushed at her words but before she could say thanks or give a compliment back.They had walked into the food and seating area and Charlotte’s very loud friend had spotted her “THERE you are!” a tall girl with fiery red hair stood by the small blonde, “I was looking for you everywhere, WHY didn't you tell me you were going to get food” her pink bow almost falling off her head.

 “Aw sorry, I got too ahead of myself” the redhead apologised, the goth girl fixed the blonde's bow and smiled sweetly then went on her way. “Ooo Charlotte, got yourself a girlfriend there” the tall girl teased and a huge blush grew on Charlotte’s face “NO! you just have it all wrong Willow, that gothic girl was helping me find you” wagging her finger in willow face to get the point across.

Much more teasing and walking later the con was at its end, Willow was attempting to join in on a dancing routine with other girls in lolita. While Charlotte was looking about frantically, searching for that kind frilly stranger from earlier “Oh I wanted to give this to her” muttering things to herself as she held a small voodoo doll with black button

eyes “Who’s that for, because it can’t be for you it isn’t pink” Willow gave a toothy smirk.

A little bit of red formed on her cheeks as she answered “It’s for that girl in black from earlier, I just wanted to thank her” Willow did give a small laugh “Nah you just liked her” and with that the taxi for them both had HONKED loudly. 

Backdrop set up and lights just right “Hello my lovely viewers, it’s me Carlottalita” the perky blonde announced “and I’m bringing you the latest in Lolita fashion news.” Charlotte continued the day making videos. As night fell she took her huge ponytail hair extensions out and lay down in bed, posting mindlessly to social media.

“WAKE UP! Charlotte, it’s me willow” a harsh banging on the door, made her shoot straight up in her frilly bed sheets and night dress. “oh COMING! let me find the keys” she had her hand digging around in a bowl filled with many cute keychains. As soon as it was unlocked the women burst through with bags filled to the brim with petticoats, “look at all this, Daisy got rid of everything” she thrust bags into the sleepy girls arms.

“REALLY daisy doo, she’s done with lolita?” Willow nodded at her questions “yup! She announced it with a video early this morning, so obviously I went to console her and maybe get some of her stuff” a very big grin on her lips. Charlotte was still shocked but boiled the kettle to make her and her friend a nice hot cup of tea, so Willow could spill the T.

“That’s not even the best part” Willow stood up after an hour of sitting and chatting “she gave me her tickets to that big con in Paris” Charlotte almost dropped her saucer with her tea cup on it. “Are you serious, France? we are going to France!” her voice went up an octave, she then threw herself at her friend who in return gave her a big bear hug “Yes my tiny friend, so plan out your most loveliest lolita dress yet!”.

That afternoon she was already online looking at bows and socks to match her very expensive dress “wow Lotte that costs the same as a  gaming pc” Willow’s eyes were almost popping out of her head looking at this web page “I know, but this con is really important and special”  twisting and twirling her blonde hair. 

The ginger pinched her cheeks and shook her face from side to side “ohh nah, you're just hoping that you’ll find a fellow lolita girl to fall in love with” Charlotte just swatted her hands away “oh stop it Willow” a big huff escaped her. “just because I fell for someone once, doesn't mean it’ll happen again” the blonde started to daze off thinking of the gothic beauty she had met at one of her first cons.

“she had the loveliest voice as well” unfortunately she had said her thoughts out loud which resulted in her friends endless teasing all through the night. Willow had already made herself comfortable in the pink frilly bed sheets.

Finally the time had arrived to take off “Ahh do you think we have enough bags yet Lotte?” Willow asked as she eyed up the two separate piles of luggage. One pile decorated pink with pandas and the other green with foxes “Haha I worry we don’t have enough” the blonde responded nervously.

After the two had arrived successfully to the airport in separate taxis, with still many hours to go until they got on the plane they messed about in the various shops after putting their luggage through the check in gate.

“Hey don’t I look like Elton John!” the loud mouthed girl bellowed across the shop while she wore novelty pink, sparkly booby glasses. “That is funny because he is in fact gay” Charlotte giggled and nodded as she approached her friend. Against better judgement Willow bought the glasses and wore them as they ate their burgers and fries.

Eventually, they landed in Paris, France after a longer than usual flight due to bad weather Charlotte found one of her bags to be missing. Almost on the verge of tears Charlotte tries her best to hide it from her friend but before they could leave the airport Willow, like a sniffer dog could sense there was something wrong. 

“You had four bags. Now there’s three” she growled. The fiery redhead slammed her hands down onto the help desk “My friend's bag has gone missing” the friend in question watched in horror as she stood alone with the two luggage carts. “Well ma'am luggage does get lost quite often.” She gave a well practiced smile which angered the ginger more “How could you lose it? It's covered in pandas!!!”

Finally leaving the airport the two girls grabbed a taxi heading towards their hotel room. Sitting in an awkward silence the whole journey until they finally got into their pajamas “Thanks Will for trying” giving a soft smile as she spoke.

“I still think we could have gotten it today” still frustrated she wrapped her arms around Charlotte in a supportive cuddle “It’s okay we filled out the form so we should hopefully hear back from them” she returned the cuddle squeezing tighter.

After a while they settled into their beds and put on some TV they couldn’t understand so just ended up chatting to each other “So Lotte what was in that bag anyway? It wasn’t that fancy dress you just got was it?”

seeing the panic in Willow’s eyes she quickly responded, “well it was just some petticoats and a couple of pairs of socks but, you remember that doll I bought for that girl” When she realized what her blonde friend was going on about she gave her a cheeky grin “oohhh I see, you’re hoping you’ll meet her again” giving Charlotte a wink.

Many people stared at Charlotte and Willow as they walked down the streets of Paris dressed in their usual lolita styles. Charlotte in her pastel coloured lace skirt and top with a bow to match, Willow contrasting in multiple shades of brown with the clockwork decoration plus a top hat to top it all off. 

“So how’d you sleep last night Lotti?” she asked her clearly sleepy friend as they sat down outside a cafe “fine! It wasn’t like I was worried about my bags or anything Will” responding in an overly sarcastic tone.

As their tea and assortment of pastries was brought to them the waitress could not help but focus on their garments “Um excuse me but why are you dressed like that?” She couldn’t help but ask as she set down the numerous plates.

“Well we are wearing lolita” Willow couldn’t help but interject. “It’s just an alternative fashion, the woman who had served just looked more confused and with an ‘Oh’ she just walked away continuing to do her job. So the two friends just spent their whole day sightseeing but unknown to them both that girl whom the blonde has been enamoured with was not far from where they have had tea. 

The dark haired girl stood in a room with many lights and cameras wearing a black dress a lot fancier than the one from before “Rio stop daydreaming and get over here” a woman in a very regal outfit commanded “Okay, coming Hina” the two posed in many positions and wore many clothes but Rio’s were always mostly black. 

“That's enough photos for today ladies” a man with very shiny hair and equally shiny blouse told the girls “Well it’s about time, come Rio we must go meet my new friend” linking arms with her gothic friend and guiding her to a very nice car outside. 

Once inside the vehicle a neutral blonde with gray eyes gave them a very wide smile “Bonjour, you’ll be coming to my house for dinner, I’ve got chef’s making it as we speak” she announced as she held her head high “Rio this is Aimee, Aimee this is Rio” Hina introduced them both to each other.

With that they went to Aimee's house and the whole time they were in her home Rio couldn’t help but feel a sense of uneasiness around this new person. 

They were all sitting in Aimee’s bedroom, she had her own small sofa and coffee table which had a beautiful tea set with a matching cake stand next to it “oh you simply must see my lovely collection of vintage polly pockets” Hina’s eyes lit up at those words but her fellow model didn’t really know what these polly things were. On this white wood shelf there were a lot of tiny little pastel coloured boxes that kind of looked like compact mirrors without any glass “Cool” was all Rio could muster. 

After some time Aimee left the room “Hina how well do you know her?” the goth asked, “Not very, I met her the last time I was here for a photoshoot” her friend said it so casually.

 Rio was a little shocked “What! You’ve only known her for a month? Why are we in her house?” grabbing her friend by the shoulders and shaking her a little “Calm down there’s nothing to worry about it’s very unlikely that she’s a serial killer or something” Hina laughed at her and messed her hair up. 

Their conversation was interrupted by the person in question with another big smile plastered across her face. She informed them that a car was waiting to take them to their hotel.

As the two japanese women entered through the door of the hotel, just across the street from them Charlotte and Willow went through the door of the much smaller hotel. 

Hina couldn’t help but tease her friend as she removed her black lipstick “So did you think Aimee was cute?” Rio looked confused by her question “Well I mean, you do have a thing for blondes” responding quickly to her confusion. “N-n-no I don’t” her cheeks clearly flushed bright red.

Frantically they tried to get ready as fast as they could while simultaneously being as cautious and deliberate as they can be, after layers of clothing such as petticoats and tights were finally on both of the girls were ready to put on their fanciest dresses yet for this convention.

“Will! How does this look on me? Was it worth the money?” Charlotte was frantic “Don’t worry Lotte it definitely looks real expensive and you look damn fine in it might I add” Willow thrusted her hips towards her friend in a joking manner,She was not so worried anymore, just really amused because of her friends' antics. 

hair and makeup all done the two of them went downstairs to the hotel's breakfast buffet as they had much time to spare, one wonders why they were rushing or even worried in the first place. 

While getting to the train was uneventful, being on the train the two overly dressed friends were met with many stares and whispering even a few rude words. 

“I had a few words in mind for those people” the fiery redhead snorted “If you just let me Charlotte” she said through gritted teeth “It’s just best to let people be rude and ignore them Willow” putting her hand gently on her friends shoulder in a sort of soothing manner “Be the bigger person” another hand placed on the other shoulder and softly shaking back and forth to get her point across “NEVER!” she grabbed the blondes cheeks in response.

The line outside of the convention hall was chock a block, you have not seen so much ruffles and lace in one place in your whole life, although there was much pastel to be seen there was plenty of goths with their darkness. 

Rio was with Hina, both were staring out of an open window at the crowd below “wow there are a lot more fellow lollita’s this time around” her friend had to agree “It seems that the online shops have really brought more people in” the two of them were dressed head to toe in very fancy attire, Hina looked like pure royalty with her mostly cream and gold dress whereas her fellow model resembled more vampire royalty with her black and purple outfit. 

Our two British besties stood amongst the crowd somewhere in the middle of the line “OMG it’s Carlottalita and The Maiden of the Cog” a young and very hyperactive girl squealed, with her came a group of more squealing ladies. 

“Hi everyone so nice to see you all here!” waving her two hands in the air while her yellow pigtails bounced frantically “What’s up my fellow shipmates” outstretching her arms in the same direction, waving them about to greet the group. “But you’re not a pirate this time” one of the little fangirls told Willow “Yes but I’m in steampunk so I can still have an airship” crouching down with her hands in a diamond shape to emphasize her point.

As the crazy antics went on in the que, the staff were preparing to open up the doors to let everybody into the convention hall. Aimee was standing atop a staircase watching the doors like a hawk “Miss Lamar, we are preparing to let everybody in, you should probably go join the models from in the conference room” she agreed and followed the staff member to the room in question. 

A large hall was lined with stalls that featured a selection of many different J-fashions but mostly that of the lollita variety not to mention plenty of plush toys and much cute art being sold. Although too much pink and purple kind of took over the place, a good helping of black other darker colours were dotted around the place. 

Not long after getting through the doors the ‘Cog Maiden’ dragged her fellow internet personality to the toilet to freshen up, re-applying their lipstick and fixing their lashes made them ready to face the crowds once again.

Suddenly, the door burst open and a very tall woman was dragging someone in with her 

“Come on, don’t worry I’ll get it fixed and I’ll stitch it back up” she reassured the crying girl, pulling a very ornate sewing kit from her equally beautiful handbag. They couldn’t help but watch as she fixed the large rip in the side of the other girls skirt, even adding a few buttons along the way for decoration. Looking at the repair she cried even more “OMG thank you so much waa” she couldn’t keep herself from hugging the tall lady very tightly “No problem” patting her softly on the head.

The newly happy girl ran out of the toilet to leave her tall friend behind “You did a real good job on that repair there” Charlotte couldn’t help but say and Willow behind her gave a big thumbs up and a grin. 

“Why thank you I do never go anywhere without my trusty sewing kit” she tucked said kit back into her decently sized bag. The three of them couldn’t help but gossip and walk around the main hall together, their new friend got along with Willow especially “So my name’s Zoey but most know me as Meime online” explaining as they all sat and had tea and coffee with each other. 

They were already discussing the online lollita community, Charlotte and Willow just got done explaining their online personas “Ah yes now that you mention it, I do remember you two from a daisy doo video” her eyes lit up with the realization that she had seen these two before.

The two Brits side eyed each other “Well I’ve some bad news for you, she’s quit!” Willow was the one to break the news as Charlotte couldn’t bring herself to do it. Zoey looked visibly upset but was quickly comforted by her new friends telling her of all the pretty frocks that they got from the retired internet personality “I think some might even fit you Zo” the bouncy blonde informed. 

The trio were already making plans for their new American friend to come visit the other two in the UK. As this was all going on Aimee was sitting behind the stage where all the lollita fashion models were doing a panel to an audience of mostly bonnet wearers. Hina was just finishing up answering questions from the crowd when it was Rio’s shot to talk, she mostly discussed the many creepy and spooky patterns that she has gotten to wear over the years.

“That's all from Elizabethy, does anybody have any questions?” immediately all of the ladies in black frantically gathered to ask their many burning questions “Aliceness how long have you and Elizabathy known each other?” another model asked Hina “coming up five years now” with that response she went back to watching Rio muddle her way through the question people asked her.

As they all left the conference hall, the wealthy French girl linked her arms with the Asian girl she had become acquainted with “I know of a wonderful place we should go for dinner after the con, my treat” Rio couldn’t help but cringe at her sickly sweet tone of voice, thankfully she did not see her facial expression.

“I absolutely love that idea” the other girl responded much more positively and with that the goth’s fate was sealed. Meanwhile, Zoey was preparing herself to leave with the two mildly ‘famous’ lollita girls “So how far is your hotel from here” satisfied by the answer they gave she texted her sister letting her know she would be spending the night with others. 

A fully decked out restaurant with pristine white walls and the fanciest of chandeliers, although they weren’t poor none of them were quite used to this level of wealth except for Aimee of course. They sat down on very well cushioned dining chairs and the tables were as highly decorated as the walls around them, with at least five different very fancy forks, a couple of knives and a few spoons.

“Oh wow these plates look so regal” of course Hina was mesmerized by this place, Rio couldn’t help but think but she's always been a bit more cynical with people than her dear friend “Oh you must really try the desserts from this place they are fantastic” when they had all finished their meal, they got to try out these desserts for themself. Rio couldn’t help but love her white chocolate and lime cheesecake, looking over Hina was already nearly finished with her strawberry tart with cream and of course the French girl had French macaroons in many pretty pastel colours. 

Eventually getting in after the train was delayed for about half an hour they de-petticoated as soon as they got in “So this is our humble abode Zoey” willow mockingly fanned out her arms to show off the whole room. Charlotte rolled her eyes, took her pigtails out and laid them down on her night stand. All of them couldn’t wait to get their makeup off and watch some internet videos, the conversation went from what they were watching to about Zoey’s personal life.

It mostly focused on her skills as a seamstress but the subject of her sister came up and her eyes seemed to sparkle with pride when discussing her sibling “Yeah my big sister’s so awe inspiring, she’s a photographer” the other two girls were drawn in by Zoey’s clear enthusiasm “that’s why I’ve been here for a week already because of her job” with that Willow couldn’t help but launch into questions about her sister’s photoshoot she was doing and Charlotte quickly followed suit with the interrogation. 

Sleep overcame them all and they continued their discussions the morning “Oh so what are the names of the models” The American looked a bit apprehensive about answering this question but they both promised her that they wouldn’t discuss it outside of this room “Okay there’s Aliceness, she mostly does hime style and Elizabethy is pretty much all gothic” when Charlotte heard the word gothic she perked up a little bit followed by Willow’s teasing. 

None of them really had time to search up the two lollita fashion girls as they wanted to make the breakfast buffet but it was still really cool to them that Zoey’s family member was involved with fashion photography and not to mention their favourite kind. Unbeknown to them across the street the two girls in question were having their own breakfast but they had room service and were preparing themselves for the day ahead which had them on shoot all day in the studio (around the city as well). 

As soon as Zoey found out about the shoot today she was able to convince her sister to let her friends come along. Charlotte promised to help out as they had studied photography in college, Willow wasn’t so quick to offer assistance “But Lotte it’s our holiday” she whinged but reluctantly agreed. The excitement was palpable although they would have to work hard helping out with lighting and such, the prospex of seeing and meeting Japanese models who exclusively wear their favourite fashion was too much Charlotte almost cried. 

The photographer was already hard at work before her beloved little sister came through the door “Emily! It’s me Zo, I’ve brought reinforcements” she yelled with a slight sing song tone. Emily wasted no time in briefing the girls on what she wanted them to do, it was mostly lighting related but they also offered a great deal of help with different backdrops

 “So what time are the models getting here sis?” she couldn’t help but ask as she set down everyone's cup of tea. Emily gave her phone a cursory glance “They should be here soon but the traffic here can always be a bit of a mess” so they sat and gabbed but the mature woman felt out of place with these youngsters but enjoyed their company anyway. 

Everyone’s attention was diverted to Hina and Rio entering the studio, Charlotte’s mouth was agasp; it was her! Their eyes met each other and for a good solid minute they just stared. 

Remembering that she had seen this cute blonde from a convention Rio was surprised that she was here but Charlotte was blushing profusely at the prospex of seeing gorgeous goth again and possibly getting to know her. “This is Hina Satō she does Hime style and Rio Itō is the gothic one” Emily informed “I hope you don’t mind but my sister and her new friends wanted to help out” She explained to the models who assured her it was fine with them and were thrilled when they found out that they too were into lolita fashion.

Although the two of them worked hard on their specific tasks, one posing and showing off clothes the other adjusting lighting and sorting props they couldn’t help but be a bit distracted by their subtle attraction to each other. Everyone was preparing to take the photoshoot outside around different locations in the city, all were very happy to get out of the very hot studio and into the fresh air. 

They did visit many lovely, lush parks but some dingy and dark locations were not out of the question either. One such place was an alleyway that was situated between two very similar looking  bakeries with plenty of seating out front (this is Paris after all) “Okay you two go set up over there, Stand here models, and you hold that reflector” Emily was being very commanding but they all knew to trust her judgement Charlotte was the one holding the reflector and she stood at the entrance of the alleyway, she admired how photogenic Rio was and got lost in thought about her this is how she became unaware of her surroundings.

Suddenly, she felt herself hit the concrete and a weight on top of her. 

It was Rio! “WHY were you just standing there not paying attention” she was frantic but the ditsy blonde didn’t know. What she had failed to realize was while her head was in the clouds someone on a moped was about to knock her down, luckily for her Rio’s sharp eye had noticed her absent mindedness and seen the driver in plenty of time to get her out of the way.

Charlotte upon realizing their position blushed, they both quickly stood up to get out of this awkward situation “Lotte what you doing you twit, almost getting run over”  the redhead was truly fiery now, luckily for the driver he had already apologized and left on his moped otherwise he might incurred the wrath of Willow (even though it was her friends own fault for standing on the road).

The absent minded girl couldn’t help but feel embarrassed about her idiocy however she was very grateful for the dark haired girls intervention. It made her feelings deepen. “Thank you Rio and I’m so sorry to everyone for causing trouble” The whole group was a little bit shook by what happened so all decided it was best to head back.

Not long after they had finally gotten a chance to sit down and enjoy some cups of tea and coffee (maybe some hot chocolate) a fancy looking and very clearly french girl came through the door. Hina's eyes lit up, she went over to her but Rio just sighed and face palmed herself. “I have made more plans for us” she cackled while clapping, of course Hina was overjoyed while her friend was less than amused. The rest of the group didn’t really get much acknowledgement from this girl named Aimee before she left with the two Asians.

Charlotte looked defeated, obviously upset by Rio’s departure. 

The photographer had gone off to tidy up, her sister and the redhead had recognised their friends clear sadness and asked about it. Willow was flabbergasted “You mean to tell me one of those models was that girl you’ve been thirsting after since that con!” she was damn near dancing at this point, Zoey was very amused by this whole thing “Aww it’s like something out of one of those rom-coms” quickly the two were hatching some crazy plans to get these girls together and in this moment Charlotte knew she had messed up. 

After they had all helped clean up the studio Emily wanted to take them all out for some drinks and a meal (nothing like Aimee’s fancy meals) The blonde was thoroughly embarrassed by the other two telling Emily about her crush on the model, “Come on Will and Zo there’s no need for this”. although she’d like to think of herself as the more mature one she couldn’t help but get roped into the other girls romance schemes. 

Waking up a little bit hungover from the night before however, they had only had a few drinks and a meal (they’re probably light weights) When Zoey’s sister called to make sure she was okay she poked fun at their ability to hold their alcohol. lounging about most of the morning till a call came about the bags with the pandas on it “Finally it took them long enough!” Willow obviously got all worked up about it but quickly calmed down after they said it would be delivered to the hotel later.

Delighted at the fact that she would finally be able to give Rio her gift, the two ‘cupids’ were thrilled by this development and were planning to use this (as they are now very much invested in seeing this possible couple come to be) they rested their elbows on her shoulders “well you have to give it to her lotte” they both cooed at her like a pigeon.

Now she couldn’t help but feel a bundle of nerves in the pit of her stomach at the thought of an audience “please don't embarrass me more than I'm going to embarrass myself” Charlotte pleaded. 

Rio lazed about in her hotel room with sweats and hair in a messy bun, whereas Hina was meticulously plucking her eyebrows “I just don’t see what the problem is, she seems perfectly nice to me” was her response to their argument about Aimee “Well I’m glad you like her but I’m not that fond of her” folding her arms in defiance and Hina just shrugged her shoulders, she was filing her nails now.  

Hina suggested they go get some fresh air outside their hotel and raved about a little coffee shop across the street next to the other hotel. As they made their way to the other side of the street they spotted the girls from yesterday that were helping the American photographer, Rio went over to say hi (as she would like some other company that wasn’t some fancy french girl) 

It amused them all to find out that the hotels where they were staying were across from each other. A small delivery van stopped, out came a driver who brought over a suitcase covered in pandas and asked for a Miss ‘Charlotte Rose White’ once it was handed over he was gone. 

Charlotte’s face was flushed, Rio just stood there confused as she watched her shaking hands reach into the bag and pull out a very spooky looking doll. 

Handing over the small gift “I wanted to give this to you at that convention as a thank you...for being so kind” Some parts of what Charlotte just said were too quiet to hear but Rio got what she meant anyway. She did have to admit it warmed her little black heart to know that a small interaction on her part made someone's day (it did help  that she found the girl in question very cute). 

Giving as much of a smile as she could muster “Thanks, she’s my child now” grasping the dolly close to her chest. Although Willow and Zoey were well aware of what was going on, Hina was left out of the loop “when did you two get soo friendly?” placing her arm around Rio’s shoulder and raising an eyebrow. 

Quickly being brought up to speed and flashing a cheeky grin to her friend “Ooh I see well that's nice” she spoke with a teasing tone, the five of them sat in the coffee shop together of course they mostly spoke about clothes and their online pseudonyms. When Charlotte and Rio both needed to go to the loo neither really talked to each other although they did exchange some soft glances and sweet smiles. 

Unbeknown to them that left the two schemers to their own devices and they quickly roped Hina into their plans “So we need to get these two on a date with each other” Some would say they’re a bit too enthusiastic about getting their pals together.

 Both were washing their hands but before they could go back and join their friends, Rio reached out her hand toward Charlotte's face, she closed her eyes “There you go, your little bunny clip was falling” speaking very softly. Opening her bright blue eyes to stare straight into those deep brown ones “thanks, you're too sweet Rio” pink still lay on her cheeks. Giggling a little at her  “your one to talk about sweetness Charlotte, I have the doll to prove it” giving a little wink, when they made it back to the table their friends were giving them a strange look (as if they were planning something).

Hina was the first to speak up “So Rio didn’t you say you wanted to go to Louvre Museum?” she had such a smug look on her face that her bestie was suspicious immediately “Yeah but you said that we didn’t have time for that” She retorted raising an eyebrow . Agreeing but quickly explaining that now they had some new pals who would probably like to go with her “Oh well it definitely won't be me I failed history so I’d just be lost” Willow was the first to back out “Ahh it can’t be me either I’ve already gone with Emily” Zoey just shrugged and smiled.

“Guess that leaves Charlotte then” hina said it in such a condescending way that it made Rio almost want to slap her, whereas the blonde just looked dumbfounded by this sudden request “I suppose I don’t mind museums my favourite part is always the art” her voice noticeably went up an octave when talking about the pretty art. 

Still annoyed by besties meddling Rio couldn’t help but be somewhat happy that Charlotte would want to go with her “Cool I guess we’ll go there tomorrow then” the masterminds were bursting with joy at the two future ‘lovers’.

Worry consumed Charlotte, she hadn’t gone on many dates as it isn't easy to approach women and talk to them (and don't get her started on dating apps). So to say she was inexperienced was an understatement, focusing on things like how should she wear her hair was all she could do to lessen the stress of it all. 

Rio didn’t have much more experience but was just a lot more chill about the whole thing, her friends had often told her she was like a robot with how nothing seemed to phase her. Making a good impression still sat in her mind though, deciding to wear something a bit more colourful than usual (although still very dark) to match pink a bit more.

Staring out the windows of their respective rooms were the masterminds of this whole date, looking down at their two friends meeting each other, chatting a little and walking away from the hotels. Everyone was itching to see how it might go but they knew that following them there to spy was more than a bad idea. 

The walk and subsequent train ride was unbelievably awkward but each other's company was enjoyable nonetheless. Most of what they talked about at first was Rio and her work , unlike other models she didn’t travel too much as Lolita was a fashion subculture mostly localized to Asia. Charlotte was just captivated by it all feeling like she had learned so much more although her date didn’t want to be the only one who chatted, when pressed on her career choice the blonde was hesitant to share because many have scoffed at her  ‘so called job’ as they would put it. 

Far from ridicule she got a positive response when explaining that she made videos about all sorts of things she likes mostly the clothing they both loved so much,  Promising to show some when they eventfully sat down for tea or coffee. Rio took her up on that offer and also promised to share her photo portfolio of some of her best modeling work, the dialogue between them slowed down somewhat as they relished in the egyption section especially our goth girl.

Charlotte’s favourite part was still to come, all that beautiful art with the golden frames she was practically drooling. They both knew that seeing the whole Louvre in a few hours would be very difficult so just focused on enjoying what they could, roaming through the gift shops Rio spied a tiny white vase adorned with pink flowers. Looking at her small gifted doll and back at the vase, she bought it.

Of course the British girl was distracted with the many lovely postcards to notice her date's stealthy purchase, both were finally relieved to sit down as their feet had gotten quite sore. as the two lovely ladies were sharing their many photos and videos with each other a certain ‘la dam’ had spotted them.  

Just as Rio was planning to give her date the little vase Aimee had to stick her nose in and join in the conversation (she took a spare chair at the table). “Hiya Rio, it’s so cool to see you here, where’s Hina?” Looking around until her gaze focused on the blonde her “Oh hello and whom

might you be?” Aimee gave a wide grin that Charlotte found unbelievably uncomfortable. 

Holding in a sigh “This is my date”  she put so bluntly to Aimee and “My name’s Charlotte it’s nice to meet you” cutting in to make this whole interaction less awkward or trying at least. She gave her the cold shoulder and grabbed a chair to sit down next to Rio, preventing the girls on said date from looking at one another. 

Almost pulling her black hair out in frustration at Aimee’s rudeness but Rio didn’t say a word (it would be more hassle to chastise her and cause issues between her and Hina), sitting there and just watching this random French lady completely ignoring her existence.

 Barely an hour had passed before the ‘lovely‘ lady had gotten a phone call and was on her way, leaving them alone at last to bask in each other’s company. 

“I am so sorry, she’s Hina’s friend and unfortunately has spent a lot of time with her” Huffing loudly after finishing speaking. Charlotte couldn’t stop herself from laughing (probably from being too nervous about the whole thing), Rio did join in and they just giggled about the whole thing and made lots of jokes about it on the journey back to their hotels. 

The date had gotten to the point of the goodbyes as they stood where they had met hours earlier,. if this hadn’t been their first date they probably would have kissed at this point but at last it was, so they just gave each other a gentle hug.

“Oh lotte, here I saw this in the gift shop” handing the little vase over to the blonde who’s month was in an O shape and thanked her sweetly for said tiny gift “No problem, after all you did get me my daughter” holding the small doll in her hand and winking.

Charlotte's face was quickly becoming her favourite colour, pink. 

As they both got to the front entrance of their respective hotels they looked back at each other and smiled while also waving goodbye. 

While all this was going on the ones who had set this whole arrangement up were watching intently and fawned over the fact they had cuddled. 

[ramblinganthropologist]

N7 Challenge 12 and 13 (Green and Militay)

Summary: What do you do when a lolita is being targeted? Apparently, the answer is make Commander Shepard crossdress. Fun fact, you can’t fit armor under a petticoat. The vids lied.

---

“Commander Shepard, are you in position yet? You should be getting close soon.

Honestly, Alistair wasn't sure how he got himself in these sorts of positions as he edged closer to what was probably the most unenjoyable mission he had ever been on. Well, he understood why people asked him to help prevent trouble; he was good at that sort of thing and had a track record for being a boy scout anyway.

He just didn't understand why he had to do it in a fucking dress... and why the hell was it mint green? He hated green.

---

“Do you ever read your fucking email? There was like a million in there.”

“Why are you even reading my email anyway? Don't you have something else to do?”

Dumb question, of course Bo read his email when he wasn't looking. Snooping was part of being a little sister. However, Alistair was still not too sure if it was part of the duties of being his XO. That all but convinced him she needed a favor and he wasn't going to like it.

Bo at the moment was at his door, looking as though this was important. However, if she was the one introducing the matter, then it couldn't involve the Alliance. That should tell him he should say no... but he would be a terrible CO if he ignored it.

Talk about a rock and a hard place...

At least she didn't completely bowl past him as she entered the room and sat at his desk  He had been a little busy making sure Saren was well situated, but so be it. Technically, it was her job as XO to bring up important matters.

“Yeah, like make sure a very good friend of mine doesn't die.” She tapped a few details. “Alright, you can go ahead. He's in the room.”

Yes, because it was his room. Why did he get the feeling this was going to be a nightmare?

A face appeared on the screen of his computer, prompting Alistair to step away from Saren's cage and close the lid. He dusted off his hands as he watched someone steady themselves. Then he briefly glanced over at Bo to make sure he wasn't being punked. Based on her body language, that was still a possibility.

“My thanks for being our go-between.” The person on screen was wearing... well... he wasn't sure. He wanted to say it was a dress, but the rest of the ensemble made his brain think otherwise. Then again, he wasn't exactly known for being up on fashion anyone, so maybe he ought to close his damn mouth. “Commander Shepard, I don't doubt you're wondering what's going on.”

Yes.

“Things have quieted down since you, Bo, and Archangel took out the trash on Omega. However, there are still some malcontents that make things difficult.”

He was using way too much energy keeping his eyebrows from leaving his face. “I don't doubt that. Is everything alright...”

He trailed off. “I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch your name.”

She smiled. “Bo did say you were polite, but she didn't mention what a gentleman you were. My name is Alice.”

Of course her name was Alice. Why wouldn't someone dressed like a living cake not be named Alice? But there was something about how thick she was laying it on that unfortunately activated his gender euphoria.

“Alice, then. You can call me Alistair for now.” He nodded his head. “You mentioned malcontents. Are we dealing with Blood Pack, Eclipse, Blue Suns, or some new outfit?”

She sighed, and again, laying it on a bit thick. “I'm afraid it's the Blue Suns. My father was at one point involved with them, and he racked up quite a bit of debt. I would rather he handle them himself, but they've set their sights on me. A friend of mine mentioned they would be by, and I worried for my safety. You know how they are, Alistair.”

Yes, Garrus' face was proof of that.

“Bo mentioned you were one of the Alliance's best defense biotics before the two of you became Spectres. If anyone can stop them, it's you.”

Ok, he knew when he was being buttered up. Any more, and he feared he might start sliding around the room. Whatever she needed, it was going to require something he definitely didn't want to do. That's why he shot Bo a blank look as she tried not too look too innocent.

“I can understand that, but why come to me like this? All you had to do was ask.”

She definitely looked a little nervous. “Well... there has been word one of their men will be around next week's circle. If someone were to take my place, with your abilities... I wouldn't be worried about them getting hurt.”

Alistair's eyebrows definitely left his face that time as he lost it. “Wait, are you suggesting...”

He look from Alice to Bo, and then back again. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck as reality set in as he put the pieces together for what they both wanted. No wonder they had been trying so hard to get him to say yes.

There was no way in hell.

Bo cut in before he could say no. “You're the only one who can pull this off, Al...”

“And why the hell is that?”

“You're the only one who can fit into the dress we have, Alice is your size and you both weigh about the same. Once you're in, they're not going to notice the difference. It'll only be a couple hours!”

He made a gesture towards himself. “I know I don't look like much, but I have a little more muscle than your friend here.”

After all, he was a space marine... they did go through boot camp after all. He might not be as strong as Bo, but he could do more than few push-ups without embarrassing himself. Sure, he was lean muscle... but it was still muscle!

“Don't worry, the petticoat and blouse can cover any of your muscular up. Add in the wig and makeup and I doubt your own crew would even recognize you.” Alice sounded almost amused. “Bo knows what to do.”

Oh, great...

Alistair scowled as he shook his head. “I'm not doing it. Get somebody else.”

“Nobody else in the Normandy can fit in the dress. You're the perfect size and weight, and you're biotic.” Bo was ticking reasons off her fingers. “And if you do it, I'll make sure you only have shifts with Garrus.”

…

Technically, as CO he could do that himself. But it wouldn't look good if he did. If someone else...

Fuck.

The Spectre grimaced as he ran a hand over his hair. “What kind of dress is it?”

Alice sighed in relief on screen. “I have just the coord for you. It's one of my first, but it's still in style. Bo, you know what to do!”

Oh, he was going to regret this...

---

“Hey, you look good as a brunette.”

“Shut the fuck up, Joker.”

Alistair's face was burning as he waited in the airlock to be let out into Omega. They had docked in a side area so nobody saw him walk out of the Normandy. After all, he was supposed to be undercover. Walking in with a Spectre ship was just asking for trouble.

So was what he was wearing...

“Relax, you're going to wrinkle it.” Bo was next to him, smoothing the skirt over the petticoat. “Just remember what we told you.”

He shot her a look as he resisted the urge to run screaming. “Don't worry, I spent 4 years pretending to be a girl. I'm an expert at it.”

Only... he had never worn anything like this. The skirt and shirt he was wearing were light green and brown, reminding him of mint chocolate chip ice cream only not tasting like toothpaste. There was too much lace and detail for his taste, but at least it wasn't a miniskirt. Even better, no heels. He would've died if they were heels.

And... well the shoes made him a little taller.

“You got this, Commander.” Joker was enjoying this way too much as Alistair adjusted the wig – brown, way too long and curly with a bow in it - “you got your gear?”

He shot the helmsman another look as he pulled his red Striker pistol out of the purse Bo had given him. “I've got spare clips in the purse.”

Unfortunately, no hard armor though. He had tried to fit a few pieces in under the skirt, but it had 'ruined the silhouette' or something like that. So he was mostly relying on his biotics and the shield he had built into his omni-tool. He was still wearing that, only it had been cute-fied with a new band to disguise it.

Luckily, he had disabled all photo taking capabilities on the Normandy before coming out. No way this was winding up in a tabloid.

Bo nodded as she made one final adjustment. “You got this.”

“I got something alright.” The airlock dinged, signaling he could leave. “Well... here goes nothing.”

And then he was on his own, walking down the plank with careful steps. At least this part of the docks was abandoned. Still, he sighed as he adjusted his gait to fit the skirt he was wearing. Something about petticoats rubbed him the wrong way...

Fuck. He was going to suck.

---

“We've been looking for you, Alice. You're a tough girl to find.”

Great... at least he didn't need to look too hard.

Alistair felt the sweat drip down the back of his neck as he felt the bricks dig into his back. There were two mercs in front of him, both wearing Blue Sun armor. They were grinning, and there was nothing fun about it. Not only that, they were packing heat – heavy pistols and rifles on their backs. Both were serious artillery.

And he... had a pistol in his purse.

He cleared his throat, trying to make his voice sound higher. “I have no idea who either of you two are.”

“Don't play cute.” The bigger one got closer. He smelled like stale booze, but it wasn't strong enough to make his eyes water. “We told you if you came around here there'd be trouble.”

Ah, nobody told him about that. He was going to need to chat with Alice about that later once these two were either dead or unconscious. Right then, he was leaning to the former as he tried to keep his calm around the two.

“Must be hard to run in skirts like that... maybe we should test it?” The smaller one was starting to unholster his gun – it wasn't quite heated up yet. “We'll give you to the count of three and maybe we won't shoot you too much.”

Ah, so they weren't going to torture him. Alice really fucked up. Luckily for her, she was somewhere else entirely. Him, not so much.

“Are you really going to shoot an unarmed woman?” He gripped his borrowed purse tighter. “What kind of men are you?”

Shitty Blue Suns, that's what. Why hadn't Garrus shot these two in the bridge assault?

The big one chuckled. “Pissed off ones owed a lot of money.”

Well, unlucky for them that his brain was his strongest weapon. Alistair hadn't wanted to do this, but if they were going to start shooting... well he wasn't about to let Alice's skirt get dirty. So it was time to get down to business.

“I'm going to give you both the chance to back down and leave me alone.”

They both laughed, but of course they did. After all, he was wearing a frilly dress and platform shoes. It wasn't like they could realize what the look in his eyes meant, or know that when he clenched his fist around the purse strap it was his trigger gesture. At least they figured it out when they both started hovering off the ground.

It wasn't his flashiest ability, but it got the job done.

“What the fuck?” The little one tried to grab for the ground, but he held him higher. “Shit, I can't get down!”

The big one tried to reach for his gun, but it floated out of his grasp and landed at Alistair's feet. The biotic instead reached into his purse and pulled out his Striker. A few seconds, and it was humming with a round.

“Now then... are we going to listen?”

They both paled as he checked the safety. “You are going to tell me who is bothering Alice. Then you're going to turn yourself in. Do we understand?”

He didn't get an answer, so the Spectre clicked the safety off. The ready meter was bright green now, indicating how many shots he had. The number was full, with more than enough to put the two of them down permanently. If he somehow missed 72 times, he had more rounds in his borrowed purse.

But he needed to save those for round two.

“Y-you're not Alice... who the fuck are you?”

He shot them a blank look. “A friend. Now, talk. I'm not going to ask a second time.”

Mostly because they were both fucking heavy and it was hard to focus with the quasi-corset he was wearing. Besides, anymore and someone might come around and see someone in a dress holding two mercs at their mercy. That would be bad for the Blue Suns, and his targets would be dead before he got the promise out of them.

He kind of needed that.

The big one had given up trying to reach the ground. “And if we don't?”

Alistair raised the pistol. “I have a pretty good rating for heavy pistols. Not the best, but I didn't fail. Do you want to see my training in action?”

Well, he hadn't failed at the very least... but it wasn't like he had aced the tests either. He'd never be an Archangel, but... he did alright. Definitely good enough to shoot someone at close quarters like that. Hopefully they didn't make him use it.

“I don't think she's kidding...” The little one looked as though he was about to piss himself. “I-It's our boss. His name's Gern. Big dude with a missing eye. Can't miss him!”

Excellent. He would know who to aim for.

The big one glared at his partner. “You idiot, he'll kill us both!”

“She'll kill us now if we don't!”

Well, actually Alistair had no plans to shoot anybody. When it came down to it, he wasn't fond of shooting fish in a barrel. More than that, he didn't want to get the dress dirty. After all, he had to give it back after. But for the moment, they could think what they wanted.

As long as they didn't piss themselves. Gross.

His favorite snitch was shivering now. “C-come on... let us go so we can start running. Gern's fucked up, a real hardass since Archangel cleared us out...”

“He sounds terrible. We'll have to have a talk after you two promise to leave Alice alone.” He aimed again. “Well?”

The quick promises came in a waterfall. It was like music to his ears as he stood there, waiting. Inwardly, Alistair sighed in relief as he clicked the safety back on. 72 was still glowing, reminding him what he had left.

Shit, that was close.

“Thank you gentlemen, pleasure doing business with you.” They both fell to the floor with a heavy thud as he returned the gun to his borrowed purse. “Well, get going then. I think there's a secondhand shop you can dump your armor in, should be enough to book passage off Omega if you're quick about it and ask the right price.”

In a flash, the goons were gone and off to start a new life. Alistair shook his head as he started tapping into his omni-tool. Now he had a name to go on. Lucky for him, Omega had really shitty data security and within minutes he had some details.

Now... time to go hunting. Hopefully Gern didn't run too fast. It was murder walking in these shoes, even if they were cute.

[gripefroot]

The Milan Job

The first thing Bucky notices about Stark’s Milan penthouse is that there are no doors. 

Well, there’s a door to the bathroom. But there’s not a single bedroom - the main part of the loft is open and surrounded by floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city, and a set of glass stairs lead up to a balcony where a half-dozen bunks are lined up neatly, beds made and looking pristine. 

Bucky hates it.  

“Are we serious about this right now?” Sam blurts, rolling his suitcase in as he stares at the balcony. “Because I did not come prepared to listen to Steve snoring for the next four nights.” 

“I don’t snore,” Steve protests, walking in behind Sam. He takes a look at the sleeping arrangements, and grimaces.  

“Wear ear plugs,” Tony says from the open kitchen, where he’s mixing himself a drink. “All the hotels are booked for fashion week - this is all we got last minute. For the record, it’s normally just a king-sized bed up there, because Pep and I don’t usually invite guests to our vacation homes. If you don’t like the bunks, we can switch it out and get sleeping bags.” 

“Oh, a sleepover!” Your gushing voice enters the penthouse next, trailed by Natasha. Bucky presses his lips together as he runs his fingers through his five-hour-flight hair, wanting to joke with you but feeling rather constrained in the setting.  

So much for mission sex.  

“I don’t believe you for a minute,” Nastasha slides her sunglasses up on her face, arching a brow at Tony. “If you wanted to get us hotel rooms, you could have.” 

“Maybe,” Tony says with a sly shrug. “But this is like a team-building activity. Six adults, one bathroom. If we can make it through this, we can make it through anything.” 

“So no hot dates, Sammy,” you tease, wandering over to admire the city view. “A city chock full of models, and you’re on a chastity leash.” 

“Aw, c’mon, 28,” Sam protests, as Natasha sniggers and even Bucky cracks a smile. That open bar Tony has stocked is looking mighty fine. “Where’s your imagination?” 

You turn, back to the windows as you send Sam a sly smile - your eyes flicker to Bucky. There’s a funny feeling in the region of his stomach, and he smiles back. 

“I wonder,” you say woefully.  

“This place is tiny,” Natasha reports, measuring her strides from one wall to the next. “Are you even allowed to have six people here?” 

“You don’t call the fire marshal on my penthouse, and I won’t call the police on those knives you snuck through security,” Tony deadpans, taking a sip of his drink.  

Natasha rolls her eyes. 

“Anyways, we’ll have a briefing tomorrow morning from my friend,” Tony adds, striding around the bar and into the living space. You’re still standing there, arms crossed, and Bucky fancies that you’ve been admiring his behind. Makes him wanna wiggle it, just to hear you laugh. Can’t do that here. “Then we start our patrols in the evening. White tie, remember.” 

Bucky remembers. He’d packed the tuxedo Stark had made him buy two years ago when he’d first joined the Avengers.  

“This place is whack,” Sam complains. “What’s the use in keeping an eye on bad guys if I’m being suffocated by a bow tie?” 

For once, Bucky agrees with Sam. 

“I don’t remember you telling us white tie,” you interrupt, attention now on Tony as a little frown forms between your brows. Still cute. “I brought my normal gear.” 

If we’d packed together like we normally do, I could’ve reminded you, Bucky thinks, but doesn’t say.  

“Milan Fashion Week has strict dress codes,” Stark explains. “All security is in Armani, minimum.” 

“Does Pepper keep a suit here I could borrow?” you ask.  

“No, because when I bring Pepper to Milan, she’s not on duty.” 

Bucky sees Steve’s face pinch and his ears turn bright red all the way across the room - and the temptation to laugh is quickly smothered into a cough.  

“Come on, 28, we can go shopping,” Natasha suggests. “Scope out the town. Rustle up some food. Leave these bozos in this shoebox to smell each other’s breath.” 

“Excellent idea.” Your smile is beaming. Bucky feels like scowling - losing you already? Not fair. And he’s stuck with Steve and Sam and Tony - even worse. He doesn’t support this idea, not one bit.  

He supports it about fifty minutes later, when his phone dings and he gets a text from you: a picture taken in a fitting room, involving a red dress that shows off your legs and thigh holster - a little coy smile on your face, as if daring him in some way or another.  

Bucky coughs, nearly launching himself off the couch where he’s been lounging since you left. His face feels like it’s burning. Quickly he shuts off the screen, and tucks it back in his pocket.  

“So, long story short, he fixed up my jacket and I gave him a bottle of whisky, and we’ve been friends ever since,” Tony explains of his friend Auernon. “Gave him a ref to get into fashion school, and so here we are. It stands to reason he would call upon an old friend when those bomb threats started rolling in…” 

Bucky’s phone dings again. He’s gonna have to silence it. But curiosity overwhelming his caution, Bucky pulls it out of his pocket ever so slightly, staring at the picture that pops up. A teal dress this time, one that flows to the floor but shows off your shoulders. That smirk in the mirror - to die for. You know what you’re doing. He gulps thickly.  

“Sorry,” he mutters, aware of Steve’s eyes on him. Quickly he shuts off the sound, adjusting the way he’s sitting ever so slightly as he pretends to be interested in Tony’s story.  

The phone vibrates another half-dozen times. A velvet burgundy suit, with a slit in the white blouse down to your navel. A gold ball-gown, regretfully captioned with ‘can’t take down bad guys in this.’ An emerald green number that Bucky supposes is meant to look old-fashioned, with a bright-pink petticoat showing beneath the hemline. It makes his mouth water, thinking of getting his head beneath that skirt… 

Anyway, Bucky didn’t listen to a word of the conversation. 

Six hours later and the skyline is getting dark, Stark has ordered a dozen pizzas (ten and a half of which are gone), and you and Natasha finally return. There’s a bustling of bags and packages, and giggles, and when you stride into the kitchen to dump a tower of boxes on the counter, a complaint: 

“You guys only saved us anchovies?” you protest. “Rude.” 

“Double rude,” Natasha agrees. “Would be a shame if those fishes slithered into certain pillows, tonight.” 

It’s been long enough since your last photo that Bucky is comfortable enough to stand - which he does, carrying his plate into the kitchen as he eyes you up and down. There had been no indication which dress you had bought - and by the sparkle in your eye as you meet his for the tiniest moment, Bucky can’t help but feel a sliver of anticipation.  

“Sheesh, you buy enough to outfit the entire team?” Sam asks, refilling his drink as he pokes around some boxes. 

“Nope. White tie at a fashion show is no joke,” you inform him.  

“That’s true,” Natasha says. “Just don’t tell the Depression Grandpas how much you spent. We’ll be up all night arguing economics and moralities.” 

“Since we’ll all be up all night listening to Steve snore, anyway,” you joke.  

Bucky leans over, trying to peer into a bag - but you reach over and snap it shut.  

“Nice try, Barnes,” you way warningly. “But that’s private.” 

He likes the sound of that.  

“Did you call me a ‘depression grandpa’?” Steve asks with a frown, moving towards the kitchen as well. “What’s that supposed to mean, Nat?” 

“Only that you’re stingy.” 

“Cheap,” you add. 

“Obsessively frugal.” 

“Miserly.” 

“Tacaño,” Sam offers, and the room silences. At the confused glances his way, he shrugs. “Four years of high school Spanish, baby.” 

“28 spent nine hundred euros on her dress alone,” Natasha informs the group at large.  

“Nat! I told you not to tell!” you protest, but you’re laughing at the general shocked outcry. Now Bucky has to see the dress - it had better be worth it.  

“Was that really necessary?” Steve asks, brows furrowed. Bucky answers in his head: yes, and he hasn’t even seen the dress yet.  

“Wow, even I’m shocked,” Sam says.  

“When in Milan,” Tony calls over from the living area. “Nice work, 28. I look forward to seeing it.” 

“At least someone’s supportive,” you say tartly, sending Steve and Sam (and Natasha) all severe glares. Then your eyes land on Bucky - he quirks a brow, ready. “And doesn’t Grandpa Two have any reprimands for me?” you ask sweetly. Bucky interprets this as, “Did you like the pictures I sent?” 

“Several,” he says, when in fact meaning, “Thanks for the public boner, babe.” 

Your smile stretches across your face as Sam starts to snicker.  

“You could’ve fed three families with that cash for a year in my time,” Bucky begins. His intended response: “I just wanna eat you up right now.” 

“Times have changed,” you point out, and he sees the glint in your eyes: “I wouldn’t complain in the slightest.” 

“Still could’ve done something better with that money. Donated it. Saved it.” Bucky is grinning, hoping you hear the hint: “When are you gonna let me take it off of you?” 

“I suppose,” you allow. “But I needed a dress, and now I have something to wear to all future work functions.” Oh, he loves this playing. He knows exactly what you mean. 

“Anytime.” 

Bucky is so ready. To show you how much he enjoyed those pictures, to wrap his fingers around Tony’s throat for booking lodging with no freaking doors. 

“Can we see it, at least?” Sam asks.  

You grin, and pick up the boxes to take up the stairs. “You’re gonna have to wait for the mission, Wilson.” 

Oof. Bucky doesn’t like that. Without any privacy, he’s going to have to wait, too.

He hates this mission. 

The next evening’s security set-up at the catwalk doesn’t lessen Bucky’s disgust. Sam was right about the bowties - Bucky is sliding his index finger beneath his collar every ten seconds just to try to get some air. Not that the air is any good, anyway; it stinks like too many people and too much perfume. There’s sweat on the back of his neck, and the com device in his ear isn’t staying put. He can still hear Stark’s voice, though. Hard to ignore, unfortunately.   

“Can we please try not to kill anyone today?” Tony sounds peeved. “I know you’re scowling, Barnes. This is my friend’s first show and no one wants a bomb.”

“Well, you’re no fun,” Natasha says sardonically. “You mean I don’t get to use my knife for anything more exciting than cutting grapes?” 

“I want a bomb,” says your voice, stationed somewhere else. Bucky suppresses a sigh. “I haven’t seen a single suspicious person. This is boring.” 

“Keep your eyes up, 28,” Tony barks. “No jokes.”

“Wow, this must be serious,” Natasha says dryly. “Stark can’t take a joke. Oh wait - he never can.” 

There are grumbles from Sam in agreement. A trace smile flicks at Bucky’s lips - but he continues to stand stoically, eyes on the opposite wall as frivolously dressed models and uptight makeup and hair artists follow them around. There’s at least four people crying; someone is shouting, and he’s pretty sure that girl that just walked past in towering heels has a sprained ankle. Too late to back out of the show, though.  

“Aerials are clear,” Sam reports.  

“Parking and valet are clear,” Steve next.  

“Sitting in the audience is the most boring job,” Natasha states. 

“Once I finish with Auernon, I’ll swap you,” Stark says.  

“Basement is clear,” you say.  

“Backstage is terrible,” Bucky mutters, hopefully not loud enough that anyone near him can hear.  

“I’ll trade with you, Tin-man,” Sam jokes. “I’ll take models over electricians.” 

“Let Bucky stay,” you insist. “He needs a date more than you do, Sammy.” 

Wow. Just, wow. Bucky’s face is burning, but he’s struggling to suppress a smile, too. “I can get a date on my own, thanks,” he growls, and there are snickers audible from Sam and Nat. And you.  

“Which means he won’t,” Steve clarifies.  

“Ten minutes to showtime,” Stark snaps. “Stop bantering and do your jobs.” There’s a fizzle, and a click. Stark has left the conversation.  

“Wow, tetchy much?” Natasha snarks. 

There’s static in Bucky’s ear - he winces, and then your voice, whispered, comes through: “I got us a different frequency, Buck. We’re muted to the team.” 

“Wow,” he murmurs back, impressed. “You must be bored if you’re fiddling with electronics.” 

“And you’re having such a great time, huh?”  

“No. I miss you,” Bucky says, and his voice is petulant - he doesn’t care. The night before had been awful; not just Steve’s snoring and Sam’s sighing and tossing and turning and Stark’s annoying watch lighting up practically the entire loft - but Bucky had been able to watch your bunk all night, but powerless to do anything. Not even to say anything. Yes, he’s grumpy - and he’s not even sorry.  

“Oh, baby,” you sigh. “Don’t worry about that. The show’s about to start.” 

“What does that have to do with anything?”  

“You’ll see.” 

Bucky likes the sound of that - and he’s smiling like a dope as models run off last minute towards the blaring music and flashing lights of the state. There’s still crying from inside the make-up room. It’s making his head hurt.  

A voice can be heard from the main stage area now, jabbering in Italian over the speakers. Bucky doesn’t care to listen, so he doesn’t. Absently he turns to walk down the hall, peer down a corridor, take note of no bombs, and return to his place.  

Boring. Completely boring. 

No, not boring at all - exciting! Enticing! Captivating! Bucky’s jaw drops as he catches sight of you moving down the hall towards him, shaking back your coiffed hair as your lips curl into a smile. Forget the show. Forget the mission. This. This.  

You had not sent him a picture of this particular dress - Bucky would’ve remembered it. Dark blue and glittering like stars with glitter all over - or whatever fashion people use to make dresses glitter - swooshing on the ground and showing off at every other step...a slit on the side, showing off your leg, and which goes… 

...all the way up to your hip.  

Bucky is drooling by the time you pause in front of him, his clasped hands covering his crotch and your eyes sparkling brighter than the glitter. Hands on your hips, and he drags his eyes away from the skin of your thigh. You must be wearing the holster on your other leg...he wants to find that out first hand.  

“Worth a thousand dollars?” you purr.  

“A million,” Bucky says, his voice thick and rough. “I want my head under there so bad - ” 

“Bucky!” you interrupt with a laugh. “Save it for when we’re alone.” 

“And when will that be?” he growls back. “Stark’s dumb penthouse - ” 

But you don’t give him a chance to finish that rant - winding your fingers through his, you arch a brow in challenge and start to lead him down the hall away from the show.  

Yep. Forget the mission.  

“I’ve had a chance to scope things out,” you say over your shoulder with a grin. “Security here is pretty pathetic.” 

“Not surprised,” Bucky says, but he doesn’t want to talk about security. He’s watching how you swerve and sway and sparkle and he wants his hands all over you about five minutes ago -  

A metal door. You punch in a key code - and it swings open.  

“Supply closet,” you whisper, dragging him inside and it clangs shut. “All the seamstresses have been sent off to the next designer. We’re safe here, for about twenty minutes. ‘Til the end of the show.” 

Bucky is tracing around the curve of your waist and hips - not as smooth as your skin, but that dress. “Enough time,” he mutters, dipping his head to nip at the soft flesh of your neck and throat.  

“Bucky…” It’s a sigh, and makes heat rush through his middle. His favorite noise in the world. “Don’t mess up my dress. I spent big money on this.” 

“My reckless girl.” He trails hot kisses up your jaw, loving the way your softness melts into his arms. “Spending so much money on something that can get ripped up.” 

“Buck, don’t you dare!” 

“I was speaking generally.” 

Your eyes are sparkling as he pulls away, grinning at your beaming smile. His metal hand slides between that slit in your skirt, and he nearly groans at how hot and smooth your thigh feels.  

“Babe,” he says huskily, lips ghosting over yours as he tastes your breath. The tips of his fingers find lace blocking his way, and he nearly growls again.  

“Bucky,” you coo back, your own hands tracing a pattern along the lapels of his jacket before moving lower. And lower. And finding his very apparent reaction to your appearance. Sucking in a breath, Bucky finds that his blood is rushing almost unbearably hot, his vision tunneling. Without thinking he gives the lace a tug, and it snaps apart in his fingers as you blink in surprise.  

“Bucky!” you say, scolding now even as you laugh. “I didn’t bring a spare pair.” 

“Don’t care.” He tosses the ruined underwear over his shoulder, and steps forward until your back is against the concrete walls, eyes daring, and his thigh between your legs.  

“So much for going fast,” you tease. “You could be here all night, huh?” 

“Yup. You too?” 

“Uh huh.” You slide down the zipper of his trousers, eyes never leaving his as he twitches painfully.  

“Without messing up our clothes?” Bucky grumbles.  

“We’ll manage,” you promise, your breath hot on his lips. That’s enough for him - he dives back in for a kiss, tongue tracing yours as he pushes back the rest of your skirt, tracing up your thigh holster as his throat closes over entirely.  

“Babe,” he grunts, and as his trousers are pushed down to his knees, he hoists you up around the hips so that your feet are dangling, and your lip is caught between your teeth as your legs wrap around his waist.  

“You really do like my dress, don’t you?” you purr, eyes all dark in the dim light. “Show me, Bucky. Show me how much you want me; how much it kills you we can’t be alone in the penthouse.” 

A challenge. He likes that.  

A little more roughly now, your back is pressed against the wall as Bucky guides himself into your already wet, heated core. His legs nearly gives out - but with a grunt he thrusts inside, and your eyes flutter shut with a whisper of a moan. Then the worst possible sound reaches his ears, and your eyes pop back open.  

R - i - i - i - p. 

Horrified, Bucky looks down - the slit hovering to your waist now where your skirt is riding up, is about an inch longer than it was earlier. He can see three or four popped seams, and he swallows.  

“Bucky.” 

“Shh.” He buries his face into your sweet-smelling neck, rocking into you as your thighs tighten around his hips. “I’ll buy you a new one, babe.” 

A husky laugh from your throat, turned to a lengthy moan as Bucky speeds up. Can’t really help it, at this point.  

“You sure you wanna spend money on that?” you gasp, fingers tight on his collar.  

He manages somehow to choke out, “I only spend money on necessities. And you, in this dress, is more important than oxygen right now.”  

Bucky is sounding like a clumsy idiot, he knows - but your giggle in his ear is worth it. Then there’s no more energy for teasing; he’s about ready to explode, and your breasts are heaving as you breathe, sharpening and growing louder and -  

This time, his legs really do give out - with a grunt and a curse, Bucky’s arm tightens around your waist as he falls to his knees, dragging you down the wall as you laugh. Figures. But he’s spent and a little drained, and doesn’t move for a minute. No, he’s happy to taste the salty arousal on your throat, careful to leave no marks, as you pulse around his extra-sensitive bits, your fingers caressing the back of his neck, his ears, his jaw… 

“Bucky…” a sigh, and your lips are on his cheeks. He grunts in response - he can hear the distant clamor of the show, but he doesn’t care one bit. Even if someone were to walk in right at that moment, he wouldn’t be the least bit bothered - unless it was Sam, of course. Bucky would not be ashamed for anyone else to know how lucky he is to have the best girl in the world, who wants him. Anyway, they’d probably be jealous, anyway.  

“My dress,” you say mournfully after a few more moments, and regretfully Bucky pulls away from sniffing your hair, and examines the damage.  

It’s really not bad. The slit is just higher than it’s meant to be, and without your underwear, a little too revealing. Well, a lot, in Bucky’s opinion. No one else needs to see you but him. He frowns as bit as he smooths over the torn seams before holding out a hand to help you to your feet.  

“Wait,” he says, a sudden idea striking. Hurriedly he tugs back up his trousers, striding over to one of the many shelves. It takes only a half-second to find what he needs, and belt hanging loose, he kneels down in front of you and yanks a needle and some dark blue thread from the little case.  

“Didn’t know you could sew,” you tease, and he pokes the thread through the needle.  

“Used to repair my own clothes all the time,” Bucky replies easily. “Ma made me start doing it when I was eight. Got sick of reattaching buttons and fixing skidded knees. Then in the army, didn’t have much choice if I didn’t want a brisk Russian breeze ‘round my privates.” 

“Well, it’s kind of you to make amends for ruining my dress.” 

Bucky snorts, tugging the seams back together as you stand absolutely still. It’s an easy repair - only takes about two minutes until you’re appropriately covered again, and he smirks in satisfaction. And then slides the skirt aside again, to kiss your soft thigh several times in further amends.  

“Hey,” you half-protest, laughing softly as he moves closer to your center - he doesn’t even care that you’re still hazy and loopy. He could drink you up all day.  

“You wear this dress, you’d better be ready for me,” Bucky says matter-of-factly. “This is serious.” 

“So serious.” 

You’re salty on his tongue, and your voice sweet in his ears and Bucky is sure his trousers are gonna get a little dirty on the knees but he doesn’t care, and -  

He pulls away, licking his lips as he tilts his head to listen. Already you’ve stiffened, a hand on his shoulder for support as the tromping sound of several heavy bootsteps are heard outside the door.  

“Doesn’t sound like models,” you whisper. Bucky is already doing back up his belt as he stands.  

“Finish later?” he asks lightly, as blaring alarms start to sound, along with shouts and screams. Your lips curl into a feral smile, and you whip back your skirt to tug out your little pistol.  

“I’ll hold you to that, Barnes. Bad guys first.” 

Bucky smirks, and yanks open the door.  

~

It’s a sunny morning at Avengers Tower two weeks later; you’ve been enjoying a lazy breakfast with Natasha (Bucky is in the gym, unfortunately), when one of the peons from downstairs comes up the elevator with a massive white box, wrapped in pearl-sheened ribbon and a tidy, though enormous bow. “That must be for me,” Natasha says, hopping down from her stool at the kitchen bar. 

“Agent 28,” the peon says, reddening slightly.  

Oh! A surprise. You stand to take the box from the peon, who is breathing heavily as they return to the elevator. A smile tugs at your lips as you give the box a once-over.  

“They scan for bombs and other tech downstairs,” Nat informs you.  

“A perk of living here, really,” you joke, tracing your fingers over the ribbon. “That and all the pizza Stark buys.” 

Natasha peers over your shoulder. “Well, what is it? Let’s see.”

“I really don’t know,” you admit. “Wasn’t expecting anything.” 

With a swoosh and a swipe, the knife at your waist has cut through the ribbon. Absently you push it away, sliding the knife back into its holster. The lid slides up easily, and a crinkle of tissue paper makes your heart skip a beat as Natasha gasps.  

Folded neatly beneath the layers of tissue - burgundy layers of chiffon and silk with a high-end brand stitched into the nape of the neck. Very impressive. As your heart begins to hammer in your chest, you bite your lip and tug out a thin white card tucked inside the blouse. Typed in 12-point Arial font, probably on any old computer, reads: 

Amends. 

You laugh. 

[harinezumiko]

Dickens Recap

What is this, con?

I am SO SORE my god. The dress can be repaired and the petticoat can be modified so maybe I don’t need to wear the waist trainer to keep that in place, but losing some diameter on the hoop might not be such a bad thing. The money I managed to tuck away in various pockets and pants and parts of my car more or less all went toward absolutely delicious crepes and juice, and I rather wish I’d had cider, but it was more expensive. 

I already respect and adore stage performers, but the actresses in fishnets of any kind get a whole new level of that from me. I joined in a very simple group dance, promptly started having an asthma attack, but powered through the thing and destroyed my feet, in part because dancing in heels is a special type of torture.

For the record, these are the shoes I went in. Dancing and being merry from around 10:30-7pm in them was hell. I’m so glad there were places to sit down, even if doing it in my hoop skirt was not actually a thing my dress was intended for. 

(The pants are gross because that’s what happens when you’re short and buy pants intended for people with normal leg lengths.)

I do regret not being able to find my goddamn lacy underthings, mostly because in the circle dance that killed me, we had to take too many steps inward, and my hoop was too big, so I think I flashed people. But that means my fishnets were validated, and they’re theatre people, so they’ve seen worse than multiple layers of tights at once.

I got to see Mrs. Jellyby again, who is always, always a delight. I found a picture of her actress on Pintrest, so this is not mine, and is apparently from 2014.

I have no idea who this fabulous fish is.

For people who speak Dickens’ works (I am not one!) Mrs Jellyby is hilarious. She is this sweet, bright, philanthropic woman, who’s always smiling, worried about her reputation, feeds children in the streets (I think they’re other cast members’ kids) and... she opens her mouth and horrible period racism comes pouring out. The woman who plays her is so sweet, and she gave me recommendations for how to fix the back of my dress so it won’t die, and I need to contact her through my friend to ask the location of the repairs place because I was already dying and words are hard. Still, though, I love Mrs Jellyby, even though the things she says are naughty and racist and terrible, and I love that this sweet lady plays her, because it’s hilarious. (And, of course, she knows how awful her lines are, it’s kind of supposed to be an uncomfortable reality check. But also, my god, look at her dress! I am in love with this gown.)

We did not get to see Mr. Edgar Alan Poe perform at Mad Sal’s, but he did get pecked on the nose, so that was always good.

I got to meet up with @cate-geo and I wanna do it again!! I will be more cuddly next time, I was too sore. ;__; I need to get whore garb so I can be less proper and upright and not sit like a goddamn lady ever again, my back is done with that forever.

@salacio appeared and I am so mad that I got no pictures, because 1) holy refs Batman, a glorious outfit this year, and 2) STOP BEING ATTRACTIVE WHY. >:V

Except that’s really the problem with everyone at these events; they’re all stupid attractive, especially in costume. Dickens is amazing because everyone is having fun, I think all of the sincerely “drunk” people were actors, so that’s schtick even though booze is available, the decor is beautiful, and even if Christmas is a sham, it feels so nice having people start and end conversations enthusiastically wishing you Happy Christmas. 

I got propositioned by a chimney sweep and am very proud of myself for not busting up laughing, because that is a) my nervous response, and b) if I were in character, which I wasn’t, would have been an incredibly rude way to turn the poor man down. It was fun larping a little, even though I have no persona for my character, and the marvelous guy at the hat store does, in fact, look more like Tim Curry as Long John Silver than any other cinematic pirate. I wish I’d been able to buy my bonnet from him. Maybe next year. ;-;

There was also a darling street girl playing keep away with a man outside Mad Sal’s with a stick of mistletoe, and she helped me find my friend, and she was so cute. I know you’re not supposed to just pounce on actors and actresses, but I wanted to hug her for being adorable. (I say this, but I still hug Mrs. Jellyby. But it’s different when the character is that kind of person, you know?)

I had some lovely dance partners, and met a very drunk man professing the evils of gin, who was due to play a life-changing interpretation of Hamlet, but we had to leave his area, which was sad.

Next time (if I can get out there this year) I will either be a modern turkey or wear something less stupid so I can take a fencing lesson! Will that solve the problem of the horrific asthma? No! Will it maybe summon the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come? Maybe!

(Ghost of Christmas Past, if you see this, you were lovely and etherial and I was too scared to approach you.)

Also Fezziwig, you are... so tall... how do you do it... why do you wear a hat on top of your tallness... 

Edit: Also, of the people in some of the pictures of my last post: All my good pictures came out from Mad Sal’s, because it’s the only place I was sitting the fuck down, but how uncanny was this guy?

He was one of the singing-types at Mad Sal’s, who was excellent, and I wish I had a picture to show him, because he was very confused that I needed to see him offstage to confirm that no, he is not a clone of my dad. (I did not tell him my dad is dead, that’d be awkward.) But uh. See man above.

See dad in garb when I was a child.

They both had the straight man role in their acts and had the dry, aside type lines, and if my dad were still alive and kept growing out his hair I am pretty confident he’d have this man’s ponytail. It was very strange. 

Fortunately(?) the singing man’s similarities ended more or less there; off stage he doesn’t have my dad’s presence, which is probably better anyway.