#Patriotic Floral
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fauxrealfloralsbyyasmin · 1 year ago
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Shop Patriotic Floral Arrangements Online
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Celebrate your patriotism with patriotic Flowers & floral arrangements at Faux Real Florals. Browse our collection & join us in celebrating red, white & blue!
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creations-by-chaosfay · 4 months ago
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This is for anyone and everyone who sews, but most especially quilters.
PLEASE REBLOG!!!
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evellynssocbrainrot · 2 months ago
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Kaz: I have a job for you. I need you to hitch a ride east to the Little Palace
The Conductor: Hmmm
Kaz: Make friends
The Conductor: But that's the hardest job
Kaz: You managed to win us over, didn't you?
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Inej: A bit slow on the draw there
Kaz: Or just in time
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Alina: Will you still be trying to kidnap me?
Jesper: Of course, not
Kaz: Have you found religion too?
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Nina: How do you think it tastes?
Kaz: Like tea
Nina: Yes, but is it floral? Bitter? Mildly sweet with notes of buttery—
Kaz: Warm. And wet
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Wesper: *kissing*
Kaz: Everyone's lost their mind
Also Kaz a few minutes later: *Makes heart eyes at Inej*
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Kaz entering the battlefield: *mutters* What nightmare have we gotten ourselves into?
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Nikolai: Didn't know you were patriots
Kaz: *fixes him with bitch glare* Well if we die we don't get paid
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Who said all his humor and charmingness was gone? At least there were some traces of it, and they are wonderful.
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furbynurby · 6 months ago
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Wearing Mischief
Pairing: Loki x Fem!Reader
Summary: You may have treated yourself to a new set of lingerie—Loki themed lingerie… this is ridiculous.
Word Count: 3.0k
Warnings: 18+ | Dom!Loki/Sub!Reader, Dirty talk, Light BDSM, Vaginal Sex, Oral (Fem Recieving), Masturbation, Spanking
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Okay, this was embarrassing. Too embarrassing. It was just last week, you were scrolling on your phone when an ad had popped up. Specifically for lingerie. Were you single? Yes, but you wanted to treat yourself. Clicking on it you had realized quite quickly that it was a new themed release, on the Avengers, no doubt.
At first you found it quite funny. Scrolling through the patriotic Captain America themed lingerie to Hulks signature purple and green themed. That was until you saw his. Loki’s. It was gorgeous, no question. It was themed in his signature colors; green, gold, and black. The brassiere was delicately designed, the embroidered lace resembling florals, with snakes encompassing them. A golden pendant –Loki’s helmet– sat in the middle crevice of the bra, holding the thin golden chains that ran down to your waist, before coming back up and meeting the back. The panties were much the same, deep emerald green, and two thin gold chains connecting from hip to hip. The lingerie was soft, and not too uncomfortable to wear. It was stunning.
The price may have been a little hefty, 120$, are they crazy!?, but it took only a few seconds for you to place it in your cart to order. Gosh that was stupid. Why would you do that, who would you even wear that for, you thought. Plus you and Loki were friends, or you would like to think as such. You weren’t close, by all means but he wasn’t very close with anyone. You were probably acquaintances at most in Loki's mind. When you did catch Loki in a good mood your conversations were pleasant enough, and left you wanting to know more of him. But he didn’t seem to give in that easily.
Sighing you shook the nerves off of you, you had decided not dwell on it. Quickly even forgetting that you had bought it in the first place. However just as the week rolled by Tony Stark had waltzed right up to you on the common floor, holding the package in his arm, along with another smaller one. Probably for himself.
“Hey kid, saw that you ordered something for yourself. You never ship to the tower. Whatcha’ buy?”
You immediately flushed, grabbing the package out his arms quickly. No one could read your mind here, or at least had the decency not to. However it still scared you to no end that someone knew what you had in there, and were about to exploit it everyone. Okay that probably won’t happen, but you never know.
“It’s nothing Tony, just some new clothes I bought myself. I’ve been needing to upgrade my wardrobe a little bit, my stuff is uh… kind of out of fashion… yeah.” You said waving a hand in front of you, an awkward half smile plastered on your face. You quickly turn around, not noticing the weird look Nat gives you from the other side of the room before turning to leave to your floor.
“Well, what was that?” Tony said, a bit stunned from the interaction.
“Probably a new vibrator she’s embarrassed about.” Nat said, releasing a puff of air before turning back to the tv.
And that’s what brings you to here, you standing in front of your mirror endowed in nothing but the lingerie you had bought yourself, and some gold jewelry to go with it. Before you also touched up your face, just some light makeup. Not to be so self-absorbed, but you did look great-hot, even.
Posing in front of the mirror time and time again you were starting to get a little turned on. Well, what are you kidding? You were practically dripping on the carpet. Well fuck, the scenarios running through your head a mile a minute were not helping.
What if… you stood on your knees, gazing at yourself in the mirror. Your hands caressed the soft silks, admired the intricate lace, and your stood nipples erect from the gold chains swaying slightly. You imagined it, a faceless man behind you gripping your thigh while the other hand grasps your throat. It made you clench at just the thought of it. Then it switched, you on your knees, maybe getting spanked… yeah definitely getting spanked, punished for being such a dirty girl.
“Oh yes,” you whimpered as you traced the folds of your pussy, the lace soaked from arousal. Glancing at the mirror one more time you noticed the slightly dangling golden glint on the brassiere, it was a charm of Loki’s helmet. You had almost forgotten that this was his, you don’t even know how because once you realized the scene had switched again.
Before you knew it you were scrambling up on your knees to the side of your bed, scavenging through the end table, quickly grabbing your favorite vibrator tor before making your way back to the same spot as before. Not without bringing a pillow with you. You sat back, closing your eyes letting the daydream encompass you.
You were sitting in between his leathered covered legs- you might have a thing for Loki decked out in his armor- as he caresses you from behind, your head in the crook of his neck, his tousled black hair tickling your cheekbones. You imagined his natural minty scent, mixed with his favorite woody cologne. You sat in front of the mirror, watching his every move. His long pale fingertips traveled up your ribs to your breast, groping them harshly, teasing your nipples, while you simultaneously teased yours. One of his hands left and traveled down to your aching pussy. Pushing your panties aside, your- his fingers gently stroked your lips before teasing your clit.
“Such a dirty slut, all dressed up, just for me.” He purred in your ear, pressing down on your clit just a little firmer.
“Is this what you want to be known as, Loki’s whore, always parading around in my colors to let them know who you belong to,” he chuckled, you could almost feel the vibration of it. You choked up a moan, releasing your fantasy for no more than a second when you heard the buzz of your vibrator turn on.
“Just look at you, your pussy is practically begging for me to touch it. All red and swollen, wanting, waiting for me to release you of your woes.” You whimpered at that.
You, he, continued to play with your folds and breasts as your vibe pulsed around your clit. Raising the intensity of your vibrator you basically screamed, you were so close.
“Fuck, come for me, my sweet,” his voiced faded in your head as your moans took over. You arched your back against the wooden bedframe, the rumbling of your vibrator overtook your senses.
“Fuck, yes- yes! Loki please!” You were close, so fucking close, right at the edge about to be tipped off-
“Now, this, I did not expect.”
You nearly screamed, choking up a gasp of shock before you scrambled anywhere, everywhere, for something to conceal you with. Your blankets on your bed were just too far, so you settled on the pillow behind you, yanking it from underneath to hide from him. You flush at your vibrator still buzzing on the floor, scooting slightly to where you tossed it and shut it off.
“Loki!”
“What in god's name were you doing?” He rose a dark brow, almost tauntingly as he stalked forward, you might’ve been so shocked your senses had gone blank, for all you could focus on was the slight taps his boot gave off as he stepped closer. His face might’ve been completely stoic if it wasn't for the hint of mischief resting in his eyes, and his very slightly upturned lip.
“I mean, here I was, just moments before thinking you were in some dire peril, and that you had called out to me for help,” he stopped, just a few feet ahead of you. He was close enough now you noticed the scratches on his face, he was wearing his full battle armor. He must have just gotten back from a mission. “However, you started chanting my name, like a prayer, it ran so smooth off your tongue I couldn’t help but want to hear more.”
“Tell me darling,” he chuckled, “what have you been doing?”
Your face flushed, you could practically see the steam coming off your cheeks in flares. This might’ve been a game for him, nothing more than something to pass the time, but you couldn’t help but be drawn in. Wanting more. So you played along. You opened your mouth to answer, seemingly more turned on than before, but your tongue ran dry.
His jaw clenched, his eyes flashed over you once more, “answer me.”
You swallowed down your nerves, this is unbelievable. “…I was touching myself.”
“To whom?”
“To you,” you buried your head into the pillow.
“Naughty girl,” he smirked, kneeling down next to you, grabbing the pillow off your lap before tossing it somewhere behind him. “Now what, pray tell, are you wearing?”
“I bought it, it’s… styled around you.”
“I can tell,” he growled, reaching over to gently caress the pendant between his fingers. “With this on you might as well have come to me and thrown yourself to my feet. Were you trying to capture my attention? Because you have it.” His eyes clouded over with lust as he took in your form.
You whimpered, his hand moved from the pendant to your face, taking your chin within his hand, his gaze so searing you didn’t know what to do with yourself.
“Were you expecting me to walk in on you, to find you in such a brazen state that all I could think to do is fuck you there, to lay my claim on you?” You kept your eyes fixed on the floor. He growled, his grip on your chin tightening, “look at me when I speak to you. Is this what you wanted, do you want me to own you, pet?”
You couldn’t help but moan at that, squeezing your legs together for some long awaited release. You nod.
“Speak.”
“I want you to own me, Loki. I want to be yours, only yours.”
He let go, his lips tracing the side of your jaw, the way he felt against you, his heated breath on your skin was all that you could feel.
“Do you truly?” He breathed.
“Yes.”
He moaned, pulling the both of you up before settling you down at the edge of the bed. His lips never left your skin, sucking at the nape of your neck, running his tongue over a particularly sensitive crevice before nipping it with his teeth. The hand that rested on your hip traveled down, squeezing the plush of your thigh before meeting your heated core. His lips traveled down to your chest as his fingers toyed with your covered core, you couldn’t help the mewls of pleasure that have been so greedily drawn from you, like a hunger that cannot be sufficed.
“As much as I love you adorned in this, so stately mine, it is much of a hindrance to what I have been wanting to see.” He kissed the top of your breast, maneuvering his other hand under your back, freeing you of your constriction before throwing the brassiere over his shoulder.
Moving back a bit he admired your bare breasts, just for his sight only. Stopping his ministrations he groped them, so soft and perky, just how he liked them. He leaned taking one his mouth, swirling his heated tongue around the erected nipple, while simultaneously pleasuring the other. He sucked the hardened bud before nipping it gently and moving to make the same with the other.
“Yes, Loki ah-.”
His lips grace you down from your breasts over your stomach, running his hands along the soft surface. “This might be one of my favorite parts of you, if it is not all of you.”
He slipped down lower, meeting your awaiting cunt, burying his nose in the lace, taking in your sweet musky scent. Giving it a kiss, he pushed the fabric aside, inserting a long pale finger, then two. Lazily pumping in and out your pussy.
“Fuck, Loki please!” You gasped, grasping at your sheets, wanting anything. Wanting him, more of him. “Please, Loki! I want- ah,” your legs jerk from pleasure as his fingers curled within you, hitting a particularly sensitive spot.
“What do you want, pet? Tell me what you need.” He smirked up at you, continuing to gently tease at your center.
You flushed, never having been so provocative before, so wanton. It almost felt constricting to say, “I want- I want… god.”
“Say it!” He slapped your thigh.
“I want your tongue in my cunt!”
He chuckled, “Of course you do, dirty girl- my dirty girl.” Ripping the remaining cloth off your legs, revealing yourself to him wholly. “Heavenly,” he breathed, peering upon you, an almost wistful look upon his eyes.
Delving back down face first, your thighs resting on his shoulder. He gave a thoughtful lick, groaning at the taste, “you are like no other, darling.”
Diving back into her quivering pussy, he licked one long stripe from the pucker of your ass, up to your clit. You tasted like honey to him, slightly salty, but not unpleasantly so. Thrusting his tongue into your whole he circled your clit. You encompassed him, it felt as if you were in him. Your scent, your touch, your voice. everything. He wanted to be consumed by you. Your hands came down, gripping his hair, pushing him deeper into your leaking pussy. He groaned. You chanted his name like it was the only word you knew.
“Loki, Loki… gods yes Loki! Fuck please!” He lapped your cunt like a dying animal, sucking on your clit.
“I’m-… I’m-!”
“Cum for me pet, cum, love.”
Loki held you, heated with overwhelming desire. Your moans and whimpers filled the room, your body trembled. A wave of bliss coursed through you as you rode out the aftershocks of your orgasm.
“That was-,” Loki started, not even having the moment to finish as you tugged him up, meeting him with a heated kiss. As almost as quickly as it ignited, the shock died down, as all he could focus on was you. You could taste the remnants of his moments with you, your tongue swiping your bottom lip. The sweet tang of your arousal making you groan against his lips. It was addictive.
“Loki, please, I need you…”
“Say it, tell me what you need, I want to hear it from your lips.”
“Fuck me, Loki. Fill me with you, ruin me so no other could desire me.” You begged.
“Temptress.”
Loki magicked away any remaining clothing, positioning you on all fours. “If you are going to act like an animal in heat, I will fuck you as such,”he hissed, lining his throbbing cock at your entrance, and with one swift thrust, he buried himself deep within your tight core. You cry out in pleasure, his grip at your hips holding you in place.
“Oh, gods,” you gasped, the sensation of his thick cock filling you so completely bringing you over the edge. His thrusts were primal, ruthless, reverberating throughout your body. Every smack of his hips against your ass enamored him.
“Such a slut for me,” he lazily slapped your ass, watching it ripple from the contact. Your body burned with need, releasing a guttural moan.
“Harder, Loki!” he obliged, slapping your ass again, with enough force to bruise. Your hips bucked in response, meeting his thrust halfway.
“You’re so wet for me, have you always wanted this? For me to fuck your whorish needy cunt?” He panted, reaching down to circle your engorged clit.
“Yes, L-loki, ah need y-you,” you mewled at his touch, the way he pulsed within you. Every feral thrust makes you whimper with need.
“You’re mine now,” Loki grunted, his chest flush against your back, biting down on your neck, digging his fingernails into your plump hips. He rutted into you with a rough, animalistic ferocity. Your cunt clenching against his cock, trying to trap him within your wet heat. Lacing his finger through your hair, he heaves your head back crashing his lips and entwining his tongue against yours.
“Cum for me, darling.”
You screamed his name, your climax surging over you like a tidal wave, leaving you quivering, breathless. Riding out his own orgasm, his thrusts grew more erratic, his grip on your hips firm. He was close, so fucking close, slamming into you at an unholy pace. You could feel his cock swelling, begging to release into your awaiting heat. His eyes half-lidded, his cock diving as deep as your pussy will let him before releasing his cum within you. You let out a loud moan, feeling every spurt of his seed coating your insides, relishing the feeling. The scent of sex and sweat filled the room, Loki gently slipping his softening cock from your warmth, letting the mix of his sperm slide down your thighs.
Loki collapsed at your side, you doing the same not long after. Loki pulls you to his side, his heavy breath fanning your warmed skin as you lean against his chest. He wraps his arm around you, kissing your temple.
“You are extraordinary,” he sighs, resting his head on yours glancing down at your lips, “may I?”
You giggle, gazing up at his eyes, pretty green eyes. “You’re asking now?”
He frowned, “It’s different now, well?”
“Yes,” you say, without a second thought. Softly, he pulls you towards him, kissing you tenderly. “Loki…”
“Be mine.”
You smile wistfully, “yes, always have been.”
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lavenderprose · 9 days ago
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Also, on a hornier note, please tell me more about the Mary Shelly thing? 😉
Assuming you're asking about the Emmrook version of events floating around my head and not the actual story about Mary Shelley losing her virginity on her mother's grave (This is a story I heard a long time ago and might be an urban legend/exaggeration of history. God I hope it's not it's the gothest thing I've ever heard. Either way, cannot be assed to check) Here's how it goes:
After a few nice garden picnics with Emmrich, during which Rook always takes a moment to pay her respects to Emmrich's parents--because she's a Mourn Watcher through and through, and when your in-laws aren't alive to have Family Sundays with, you make due by putting flowers on their grave and politely NOT bonking their son within eyesight of their headstones--the subject of Rook's origin story comes up. Maybe organically, maybe Emmrich's curious about her last name but he's been too polite up til now. Maybe the curiosity has been burning a visible fucking hole in his chest and Rook finally sighs and braces herself and says, "Go ahead and ask," and Emmrich, despite himself, launches into Twenty Questions Mode.
Either way.
"I know almost nothing about myself," is what Rook tells him, and she's made her peace with it long ago, but the sight of his sad eyes makes the old, stale heartache attempt to rise in her again. "No, don't do that. Don't pity me. I don't really care who I started life out as. What matters is who I am now."
"Rook," he says, and it's a statement. He's so intuitive that way. Yes, she's Rook, and that's who she chooses to be every day when she wakes up in the morning. If she tires of it, she'll tell him and they'll go from there. They've probably had this conversation before. Then he says, "I'm curious, dearest--"
"I'm shocked," she teases, and he tuts.
"Curious about the name," Emmrich sighs, and shifts into something she likes to call lecture mode, though it looks a bit ridiculous when he's sitting there on his own boot heels, hands folded in his lap like an eager and precocious boy. "The name Ingellvar is classic Navarran, of noble origin, though the family line has been extinct for over a century. Foundlings aren't uncommon in the Necropolis, and the naming conventions are rather specific. I was wondering--"
"Do you want to see it?" she asks, and leans herself onto his lap. He, as always, simpers to find himself full of her. "I know where it is. Been there a few times over the years. I'll show you the grave where they found me."
"I would quite like that," says Emmrich, so she takes him there.
The upper levels of the Necropolis are sometimes oppulent and sometimes just as dusty and ominous as their lower counterparts. They tend not to shift around as much, but there's no guarantee that anything in the Necropolis will stay in one place forever. Rook keeps track of this particular row of Sarcophagi, for obvious reasons. Several of the most important Nevarrans of the Blessed Age are interred here. Accordingly, it is beautiful and well-lit. The stones under their feet are neatly cobbled and the air is floral.
"They found me there," Rook says, pointing to a particular grave. A low, flat sarcophagus. The epitaph, huge and vaguely glowing even all these years after the initial enchantment:
HERE IS LAID TO REST WILHEM INGELLVAR COUNT OF RUNDEL. GREAT-GRANDSON OF KING BERTRAND PENTAGHAST. HUSBAND AND FATHER. HIS BONES WILL SERVE AS HE DID IN LIFE AS HIS SPIRIT WALKS BY THE MAKER'S SIDE.
It continues in that vein all down the sarcophagus, Nevarran patriotism and Andraste. Rook could recite it all from memory.
"Why this grave, I wonder," Emmrich mumbles.
"No idea," Rook says, which is true, and then, "Haven't really thought about it," which is the biggest, fattest lie she's ever told him.
Emmrich knows it too, because he looks at her and raises his eyebrow.
"Anyway." She slides herself onto the surface of the sarcophagus, which is polished to an almost reflective sheen. "Here's where they found me. Screaming, crying, wah-wah-feed-me." She falls onto her back, legs curled up towards her chest in a mockery of an infant. She wiggles her feet and her eyebrows in his direction. "I was smaller then."
"Evidently," Emmrich says, dryly, and sits down on the end of the sarcophagus. He glances around and, almost to himself, muses, "This chamber is quite busy, comparatively. It's popular for tourists, and close enough to the surface to be part of the Mortalitasi's regular rounds. Whomever put you here must have intended for you to be found."
"Whatever," Rook sighs, and drapes her legs over his lap. "I screamed and screamed until they found me. And the rest is history." She toes off one of her boots. "I have a fun story to tell you."
Emmrich visibly chooses not to address the flippancy with which she thinks of her own origin. Someday, maybe in a few years, she'll wake up in the middle of the night. She'll stumble like one of the dead into another bedroom in their top-level Necropolis townhouse and cling their newborn son to her body. When Emmrich finds her after waking to a cold bed, she'll look at him and with a voice like her own throat is haunted say, "Did she hate me enough to get rid of me? Or love me enough to let me go?" And he'll know she's talking about her own mother. And they'll start looking.
Here, on this day, she isn't yet a mother unless you count fire-slinging skeleton sons. Here, on this day, she plants her socked heel against Emmrich's crotch and curls her toes and says, "Once upon a time, there was a woman, and she was in love with a very beautiful and spooky man, and one time that very beautiful and spooky man fucked her in a sarcophagus and now she can't look at one without--"
"Darling," Emmrich gasps, and wraps his hand around her ankle and very decidedly does not move it. He'd put bangles there, and a chain that disappears into her sock and connects one of the bangles to a thin band that lives underneath the knuckle of her largest toe, and when he did so he looked at her with dark eyes and then did something with his mouth that she still thinks about at least once a day. "This isn't...very respectful of the noble dead."
God, she loves him.
"You've fucked me worse places. Besides, this guy," Rook slaps the surface of the sarcophagus, "was a huge monarchist asshole who's probably been spinning in his grave for the past thirty years because of the little elf girl running around with his last name tacked onto her. Maybe one of these days he'll stop spinning because I'll have a different last name." She's only a little amused that that's what makes Emmrich's cock jump against the sole of her foot.
"Dearest," he says, still consciously sitting still for what her foot is doing, "This really is a very highly trafficked area."
"Good," she says, low and slow.
"Oh," he sighs, and he sounds almost annoyed, like ink has dripped onto his favorite shirt, but he's moving to kneel between her thighs now, pressing her back into the relative concealment of the large flower bushes flanking the sarcophagus. A bit of privacy, such as it is.
"Whatever shall I do with you?" Emmrich asks, even as he shoves clothing aside. He takes off his coat and pillows her head with it, then pulls his shirttails out as some weird attempt at modesty, and she laughs until she feels him inside her.
"You'll figure something out," she tells him.
Emmrich Volkarin, the latest in a long line of esteemed Mortalitasi to be presented with a strange foundling discovered on a long-deceased noble's grave, smiles and makes love to her.
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neechees · 1 year ago
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Hi! You don't have to answer this if you don't want to, that's totally fine! But you talking about Orville Peck's appropriation of indigenous culture with his fashion choices made me realize that I had never considered that there might be some aspects of "cowboy clothes" that white ppl shouldn't wear and that was super wrong of me. Again, you totally don't have to answer this, but I was just wondering what ways a white person could wear "cowboy clothes" in a manner that wasn't disrespectful? Or perhaps, should we not wear them at all? I can't afford T yet, but when I can finally get it I was planning on getting a cowboy outfit to embrace my trans mascness, but if that would be wrong of me I can scrap that plan no problem!
Ehhh again this is actually SUPER HARD to answer because almost everything about cowboy fashion & the cowboy "aesthetics" are lifted directly from Native American fashion and culture, either because a lot of cowboys back in the day were Native American themselves (including Afro-Natives & Indigenous Mexican vaqueros) or they were White & just kinda. stole the look from the Native cowboys due to a number of factors.
If you google "cowboy jewelry" the first thing that comes up is silverwork & belts & turquoise jewelry, which is taken from Navajo metalwork. Fringed leather clothing? Again, many Native tribes did that (& in some tribes the fringes could mean something, its not just for looks), most popularily with vests, jackets, and pants. A lot if the leather jackets were a result of Native women just sewing their clothes the same but in a European styled cut. Compare this "cowboy" look below to a Lakota war shirt: both have hair embellishments dangling from the arms.
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Studded belts? Inspired by Cheyenne mirror belts, which often also have metal studs in them & you'll still see Native pow wow dancers have this in their regalia. Floral vests? A lot of the inspiration comes from Plains floral beadwork. Geometric patterns and blankets? Came from Southwest or Mexican Native American blankets & designs, ask any Navajo weaver & they'll tell you the same. Feathers in cowboy hats? Who else is famous for wearing feathers on their heads--? Native Americans. The look is still popular with older Native men.
Hell, if you visit this site that sells Western/cowboy fashion, you'll see a SHITTON of appropriation going on, taking Native imagery & designs, including one taken from Native American ledger art, all on White models.
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The appropriation of Native culture and fashion in the cowboy/western sphere is ongoing, and the influence that Native fashion & culture has in Western/cowboy fashion as it is is absolutely MASSIVE. I once said in another post that the cowboy/western aesthetic essentially belongs to Native Americans, Latines (especially Mexicans), and Black people. And the history of White cowboys has been one largely of colonialism, racism, and displacement of Indigenous peoples, and the masculinity associated with White cowboys especially is also steeped into racism & American patriotism (think John Wayne. There's a reason he's an American icon who played cowboys & killing Indians in films.). I think the only thing that isn't influenced from either appropriation or colonization is like, jeans. Even the style of cowboy boots themselves and potentially chaps were influenced from vaqueros.
So if you're White I'm not sure that'd exactly be a good route to take because trying to seperate Indigenous elements from this fashion/look (nevermind the problematic history of White cowboys) is almost impossible. Obviously I can't force you to do anything, but honestly if I were you, I'd try a different direction, because otherwise I think you'll find trying to do this will be very hard.
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koenigami · 8 months ago
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Knight!Kunigami x Queen!reader vol.1 synopsis : beautiful, stubborn, and powerful. she didn't need him, yet her heart craved him so desperately. strong, protective, and brave. he has never known fear, except when it came to her well-being. tags : royal au, fem!reader, fluff, slight angst, mentions of death, misogyny (not from kunigami) wc : 1.9k a/n : probably going to turn this into a series but updates will be very slow .. જ⁀➴ masterlist
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“Sir Kunigami, as the captain of the knights, your duties are limited, as your title already implies, to the supervision of the knights. And those unmistakably have nothing to do with my own duties.”  
You could very well be talking to the cold, unmoving walls since this kind of conversation with your recently recruited captain of the royal knights was nothing new. Whether it concerned the safety precautions of the castle or of the entire kingdom, or the tactical decisions regarding your troops. When you said left, he said right. And under other circumstances, you would never allow someone to contradict you, especially not in the way that he did it.
The way that everyone else did. As if doubting your authority as the lone ruling head of this kingdom, and that solely because you did not have a king by your side. Ever since your husband’s demise after a short, gruesome illness, you were constantly faced with disapproval and criticism, most of it stamming from your own family. Distant relatives who claimed that the passing of your husband had an impact on the legitimacy of your title, who reminded you countless times to look for a suitable partner.
Your sole comfort and strongest pillar was your advisor, Noa. At a young age, he had already been assigned to the role of the captain of the knights, had served your father and the kingdom with nothing but utter devotion until a grave injury had left him no choice but to retire from his position. He was as well the reason why you tolerated Kunigami’s importunate behaviour since he had been the very first person who had come to Noa’s mind to replace him and step into his shoes. Now, there was no denying that Kunigami Rensuke fulfilled the tasks of his newly assigned role formidably. A strong man, a patriotic citizen, a skilled warrior, a trustworthy leader, and a loyal subject of the queen. So loyal that he could not seem to stop interfering in your affairs. 
During the visit of your uncle, the duke, earlier that day, a small disagreement between you two had swiftly escalated, leading to Kunigami drawing his sword and pointing it, yes, at the duke.
Your uncle had come with a, in his eyes, formidable message from a neighbouring kingdom whose king had apparently declared himself ready for possible negotiations about an arranged marriage from which supposedly your own nation would benefit a lot. Nonetheless, you had not let your uncle explain any further and interrupted his detailed explanations and excited rambling with a simple No.
“In a world ruled by men, I will gladly be the exception and demonstrate that my gender does not determine my competences. My father-” “Your father was a fool just like you, child!” your uncle had called out, the anger and frustration evident on his reddened face. He had always been of short temper, however something about your refusal today had unleashed a kind of anger inside him that you rarely got to see. So when he had taken a step towards your throne, the discussion had immediately been interrupted by the sound of a sword being unsheathed. 
“I want everyone to leave.” you had ordered as soon as the duke had left, gaze not drifting away from Kunigami for even an instant. He had clearly understood that your command was not addressed to him, and cautiously approached your throne. Once he had deemed himself close enough, he lowered his head and dropped on one knee, staring at the carpet beneath him. It was rich in ornament. Golden floral patterns adorned the red velvety carpeting, an incredible piece shipped in from a continent afar. Just like the dress of yours.
Though in your case, it was not the gilded designs and motifs that made the gown look so magnificent. Layers upon layers of skirts, of course only the finest materials, and long elegant sleeves that accentuated your arms in the most flattering way, bodice clinging to your skin and hugging your waist perfectly; Kunigami swore he had never been so envious of a piece of fabric. 
“Threatening my uncle-” you shook your head in disbelief, not daring to imagine how the situation would have ended if it weren’t for you. “Under different circumstances, he would have ordered decapitation upon you. This shall be your last warning. If you won’t cease to meddle and intervene in my affairs, despite there not being any necessity for it, you will be stripped of your title as the captain.” 
“Your highness, may I have a word, please?” 
“You may.” a defeated sigh left your painted lips, while you were ready to be wrapped around his finger as per usual when it came to Kunigami Rensuke. Yes, you tolerated his missteps for Noa’s sake, yet there was no use in denying that you were doing it for the underlying sympathy that you held for the knight in front of you.
“I understand your discontent, and I truly apologise if my manners were out of place.” he lifted his right clenched fist to his chest right over his heart. “But you must understand that I’m merely trying to fulfil my duties by looking out for you. It’s my responsibility to ensure your safety, as well as the peace inside of our homeland-” 
“By disregarding my commands and decisions?” Despite the irritation seething inside you, you spoke calmly, leisurely standing up, leaving the throne behind you as you walked step by step towards Kunigami, your long gown sliding along the carpet. “By threatening a family member of mine even though I had everything under control?” 
During your discussion with your uncle, Kunigami had been scrutinising the duke and assessed his every move as if even a single eye twitch of his could cause you harm. Once he had witnessed his outburst, he had not hesitated to draw his sword as a silent warning. And he would do it again if necessary.
“I see, you’ve trained your guard dogs well. Though, mark my words. They will not always be able to protect you.” your uncle’s words still lingered in your mind, like the plague infesting and not leaving anytime soon.
“Do you also believe that I need a male companion by my side? Is that why you keep meddling in my business? Because you don’t deem myself capable enough to rule our homeland by myself?” He would neither be the first nor the last one to doubt you. “Because I’m not strong enough to-”
“Because you’re a woman!” 
Ever since joining the knights as a youngster, Kunigami had witnessed you overcoming all possible miseries that could fall upon someone. From a marriage of convenience with barely any love, to the loss of your parents, and lastly even your husband’s demise. The strength and confidence that you carried within you were remarkable, yet not enough to come up against the kinds of people that you had to face in your world. It was not common for a woman to rule without a king. Women like you served merely as an asset, as another trophy for greedy and conceited men to show off their properties. So when Noa had informed Kunigami about his promotion, he had seen it as his obligation to shield you from any further hardships.
His impulsive words bounced off the high walls, echoing through the hall while his eyes finally met yours. Regret. That is what you could immediately discern in them as soon as he looked up at you, silence filling the room and engulfing the both of you in a veil of suffocating tension. 
“You’re implying that my femininity is a weakness, Sir Kunigami?” He swallowed at the sound of your sweet, calm voice, like a siren luring him into the deathly depths of the sea. “Your Highness, that’s not what I-”
“That me being a woman would put me at a disadvantage while facing a man- No, pardon. A male?” He had failed to realise that you were approaching him with each tentatively uttered word, as the space between you progressively got smaller, the intoxicating smell of your perfume wafting through his nose. “Now pray tell me, Sir Kunigami. If you would not take my status into consideration, would my womanhood make you superior to me?”
“O-Of course not, Your Highness. I was merely trying to say that men can be unpredictable beasts. Amidst their violent immorality and unscrupulousness, my priority is to protect you.” His steadfastness was one of the many things that you admired about him. Even while being at your mercy, he never hesitated to state his honest and principled opinion, whether you liked it or not. It was his compassion and sense for righteousness that made him stand out from other knights. From other men. 
“Is that so? Then what about you?” 
“I beg your pardon?” He swallowed, nervosity slowly setting in. 
“If men are, like you worded it … beasts. Who’s protecting me from you, Sir Kunigami?” 
“I would rather die than allow myself to be any form of danger to you, Your Highness.” The heaviness of his phrase settled on your chest, making your breath stagger as you looked into his face. Not an ounce of doubt was visible on it, the fist on his heart clenched tighter as if he were about to rip it out of his chest just to show you the place from which his words stemmed from. 
Another moment of silence passed with neither of you saying anything. As if waiting for the others next move, as if hoping for a sign, as if praying that this internal burning was mutual. You were not sure when it was that Kunigami had gotten up because you only realised it once you felt the warmth of his hand brush along your cheek like a warm ray of sunshine, and tuck a loose strand of your perfect hair behind your ear. 
The large double doors creaked, and before anyone entered, Kunigami had already taken a few steps back and put some respectful distance between the both of you as if burned by the sole touch of your skin. A broad figure appeared, marching towards you and carrying himself with a confidence and gracefulness that you would usually only see from blue-blooded individuals. Kunigami felt his former superior’s icy gaze scrutinise him from head to toe before Noa lowered his head, greeting you politely. 
“Your Highness, I just saw the duke off. I believe-” Again Noa’s eyes travelled from you back to Kunigami before continuing. “We might need to discuss some matters. In private.” 
The gentle nod of yours was Kunigami’s cue to leave, though as he excused himself, you called out to him one last time, your demand stated with firmness. “I expect your presence at my chamber after dinner time.” 
“Yes, Your Highness.” Without wondering or questioning, Kunigami withdrew with a final bow, leaving you alone with Noa. Despite his calm and composed exterior, you could tell that your advisor was keen on hearing about your argument with your uncle, as well as your discussion with Kunigami. Nonetheless, Noa had to admit that your last request had particularly caught his curiosity, wondering what the reason behind it may be. 
Though as you watched the back of the current captain of the knights become smaller with each step that he took before disappearing behind closed doors, you desperately hoped that the reasons behind your palpitating heart weren’t what you thought they were. 
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the-golden-vanity · 4 months ago
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Detail of a scrimshawed corset busk with floral, nautical, vernacular and patriotic American motifs, early-mid 19th century. Provincetown Museum, Provincetown, MA.
@clove-pinks, thinking of you ❤️
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icehearts · 9 months ago
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Esca Reynault
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— B A S I C S
Name: Esca Reynault
Nicknames: Lady Belladonna (derogatory), milady (also derogatory), milady (affectionate???)
Age: Early-to-mid 20s.
Nameday: 7th Sun of the 4th Astral Moon. (7/7)
Race: Midlander Hyur.
Gender: Cis female; she/her.
Orientation: Bisexual.
Profession: Alchemist by way of the Alchemists' Guild of Ul'dah, botanist by way of her father's tutelage, reluctant shopkeep of the family plant nursery-cum-apothecary
.
— P H Y S I C A L A S P E C T S
Hair: Long, chestnut, well-kept. Usually swept up in a ponytail or pinned back and out of the way.
Eyes: Tigerseye brown. Inscrutable.
Skin: Fair, unblemished; the complexion of one raised in comfort and relative luxury.
Tattoos/scars: None to speak of.
— F A M I L Y
Parents:
Mother - Leopoldine Reynault, the youngest daughter of a minor house of Ishgard. Members of the Reynault family have historically been employed by larger noble houses as retainers, midwives, maids, cooks, in-house chirurgeons, groundskeepers, among other roles. Father - Warrick Caraway, a Studium-educated botanist and horticulturist with a specialization in environmental, plant, and soil sciences. Part of his ongoing post-graduation research involved evaluating the aetherial qualities of the soil in the various Calamity-affected Coerthan regions, and developing methods to encourage the growth of more diverse foliage and flora that could withstand the recently altered environs.
Siblings: None. She's an only child.
Grandparents: None to speak of. Her parents' union was not approved by either family involved, so Esca's grandparents on both sides remain quite distant.
In-laws and Other: Silas ████████, a Garlean ex-patriot who acts as a sort of older brother figure for Esca.
Pets: None to speak of.
— S K I L L S
Abilities: Alchemy, of course, botany, and she's rather savvy with a needle too. She's no seamstress, but Esca can mend an article of clothing or even stitch up a wound if need be. She has some aptitude for spellcasting, primarily wind- and water-aspected magicks. Her mastery over such magicks is lacking, to say the least, and Esca has little patience for things she can't control.
Hobbies: Reading, tending to the greenhouse, concocting experimental solutions and potions. Hunting down the ones she thinks are responsible for her mother's suspiciously sudden illness. Daydreaming about how she'll pay them back for humiliating her family. Honestly? She needs more hobbies.
— T R A I T S
Most Positive Trait: Diplomatic.
Most Negative Traits: Deceptive.
— L I K E S
Colors: Blues, whites, blacks. Silver and gold.
Smells: Fresh air, delicate florals. Nothing overpowering.
Textures: Smooth silk, gauzey cotton, weathered leather.
Drinks: Mulled tea, coffee, mint lassi.
— O T H E R D E T A I L S
Smokes: Never.
Drinks: Very rarely. Alcohol makes it a little too easy for the mask of composure to slip off, so she tends to avoid the stuff. Plus she tends to be an emotional drunk, and that can be embarrassing.
Drugs: None.
Mount Issuance: A snow-white chocobo affectionately named Ambrosia.
Been Arrested: Why? Do you think she's guilty of something?
Tagged by: @paintedscales @sealrock @shroudkeeper tysm <3
Tagging: YOU! 🫵 That's right YOU! If you haven't done this yet but want to, consider yourself officially tagged!
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ms-m-astrologer · 7 months ago
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Transiting Venus enters Cancer
Monday, June 17 - Thursday, July 11, 2024
A couple of bumps in the road, but otherwise a very chill, mellow transit - just the way Venus/Cancer likes it.
This transit is only 25 days long - it probably won’t be very impactful. If we have any problems, they might come from trying to manipulate people/situations, or from being passive in situations where we’d be better served by making a move or stamding up for ourselves.
The overall feel is pleasant - it’s wonderful to do little favors for people we love (and ourselves), and find quiet ways to show our affection. How it may play out in Venus’ areas:
Art - patriotic (for example, Norman Rockwell in the US), or folk art, or cottagecore. Monet and Renoir. Quiet music; songs that tug at the heartstrings.
Beauty - old-fashioned, florals, soft colors and fabrics. We can have a great emotional connection to Mother Nature.
Love - we can absolutely show some love to our families, be they biological or found. We tend to go for the kinds of partners our families would approve of. And we’re very traditional and sentimental, the cards-and-flowers type of affection.
Money - the Crab can be quite stingy when it wants to be. As my mom used to say, “pinching the pennies so hard they make Lincoln cry.” (Lincoln being the dead president on that coin.) They’ll spend a lot of money on making their home comfortable, and on food.
Pretty bland tbh - not that there’s anything wrong with that! Allow a day or so on each side of these aspects:
Monday, June 17 - Venus/Cancer conjunct Mercury/Cancer, 0°19’. News? We’re thinking about our feelings, and maybe trying a more sensitive style of communication. We want to understand how the other person feels.
Wednesday, June 26 - Venus/Cancer square North Node/Aries and South Node/Libra, 11°28’. A lesson in how “going along to get along” isn’t healthy. If we try to manipulate others to get what we want, it backfires sooner or later.
Friday, June 28 - Saturday, June 29:
Venus/Cancer sextile Mars/Taurus, 14°39’
Venus/Cancer opposite Ceres Rx/Capricorn, 15°44’
This is, first of all, very fertile - if becoming a parent isn’t on your to-do list right now, you might want to abstain from having relations! We have a lot of patience about working through domestic problems. We can appreciate others’ perspective.
Monday, July 1 - Wednesday, July 3:
Venus/Cancer sextile Juno/Virgo, 18°01’
Venus/Cancer trine Saturn Rx/Pisces, 19°25’
Venus/Cancer trine Pallas Rx/Scorpio, 19°56’
There’s a water grand trine between Venus, Pallas, and Saturn, with Juno providing a focus for the watery energy. It can be great for the arts, giving us ideas and the discipline to pursue them. We feel responsible toward our loved ones.
Friday, July 5 - Venus/Cancer square Chiron/Aries, 23°21’. Hurt feelings - perhaps some family trauma from long ago popping up. Or, we may be overly sensitive and get upset over trivial things - almost like we’re anxious to feel like victims.
Sunday, July 7 - Monday, July 8:
Venus/Cancer square Eris/Aries, 25°28’
Venus/Cancer sextile Uranus/Taurus, 26°02’
So interesting - the square with Eris showing some definite anger, but with the sextile to Uranus we get opportunities to make some changes.
Thursday, July 11 - Venus/Cancer trine Neptune Rx/Pisces, 29°54’. A beautiful vision to finish up the transit. Not very practical or realistic, but who care? It’s our job to make it real!
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theroyalsims · 1 year ago
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THE BATTLE OF THE COATS: QUEEN, ANYA, STUN DURING LATEST JOINT ENGAGEMENT
Clearly, Anya got her winning sense of style from her mum!
Earlier this morning, Her Majesty The Queen was accompanied by Prince Jacques and The Crown Princess for a visit to St. Balthazar Chapel, located in a small village up north in Brindlebury.
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Dubbed one of the oldest religious sites in Brindleton, the chapel will be celebrating its 900th anniversary next month, and a special service will be held to mark the occasion. Members of the Royal Family are expected to attend.
The chapel has survived wars, fires, and disasters, but its history can be traced back to almost a thousand years ago when monks first built a simple structure that would serve as a place of worship for the small community.
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Throughout the centuries, the chapel has been destroyed and rebuilt numerous times, and even changed congregations, but it has maintained its status as a sacred space where the community can come as one.
For the royal trio's visit, it looked like the entire village showed up to see their favourite royals! Local royal fans were delighted when Her Majesty and Their Royal Highnesses took time to chat with them during the walkabout.
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For their visit to the church, all three donned formal outfits, with Prince Jacques looking dapper in his suit, while the ladies looked lovely in their coats and hats.
The Queen opted for a forest green military-inspired coat, which she paired with a matching wide-brimmed hat. Her Majesty accessorised with black court shoes and her trusty classic purse.
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The Crown Princess, meanwhile, dressed to impress in a brand new coat dress in a lovely cornflower blue shade. The designer coat is from Katharine Sitt's upcoming collection, and is priced at  §1,900, although The Crown Princess is wearing a slightly altered version.
HRH's bespoke coat includes floral embroidery from the neckline all the way to the hem. The small flowers are actually Brindleton Blossoms, Brindleton's national flower, making the addition a patriotic and sentimental nod, perfect for a future Queen. Her Royal Highness wrapped up her look with matching blue pumps and a floral headpiece.
It's always lovely to see these three out and about! Here's to more (fashionable) joint outings in the near future!
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omgthatdress · 2 years ago
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Nanea’s School Dress is a pinafore-style dress that was popular at the time.
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The print is a pink-and-teal tropical floral. Having dug around a lot in the history of Hawaiian prints, I’m left frustrated. Not so much by the dress itself, but by the fact that I don’t have enough references to tell if the pattern is authentic or not.
Hawaiian print goes back to the 1920s, when the tourism industry in Hawaii really got underway. Unsurprisingly, there are a lot of individual people and shops claiming to have made it first, so it looks like a case of a bunch of people having the same idea at the same time. Japanese fabric printers at the time used wax resist-dyed fabric to make kimonos, and tailors began adapting that fabric to make bright, colorful shirts. Soon, the more traditional Japanese prints began including colorful florals and patterns inspired by traditional Hawaiian barkcloth tapa, and a booming industry got underway. Then, Pearl Harbor happened. The Japanese printers were put out of business and sent to internment camps. Soon, printers from the mainland rushed in to make a buck filling the gap using silk screen prints. After the war, tourism came back with a vengeance, and the designer Alfred Shaheen set up shop, adding neon-bright colors and mid-century atomic design elements to the mix. Hawaiian print as we know it today was born.
The trouble is, there’s obviously a pretty big discrepancy with pre and post-war prints, but I haven’t been able to really get a good enough look at extant pre-war prints to be able to say very much about it.
One of the kind of stereotype-y things about Nanea’s collection is that it’s ALL tropical print. While Hawaiian women certainly did dress with a local flavor, they also wore plenty of non-tropical stuff, too.
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On another note, I absolutely fucking adore her little espadrilles! This style of shoe started ouy among Spanish peasants in the Pyrenees mountains, but were popularized in the 1930s by shoe-maker Salvatore Ferragamo. They were lightweight and comfortable and perfect for summer wear.
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Anyone who remembers 9/11 will remember the “remember 9/11″ kitsch that turned up everywhere later. Pearl Harbor was no different. Part of it was cashing in on a very public tragedy, part of it was recognizing the trauma that everyone had just lived through, creating patriotic national unity, and justifying the war that was about to come. Patriotic “Remember (an actual pearl or piece of mother-of-pearl) Harbor” pins were a popular accessory when WW2 began. It may have led to a nightmare after 9/11, but nobody is going to say that American entering WW2 wasn’t justified.
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(Franklin D. Roosevelt Presidential Library)
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theother456-stories · 2 days ago
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It was the perfect summer day—blue skies, warm sunlight, and the tantalizing aroma of burgers wafting through the air. James was feeling great. At 180 pounds, he was in the best shape of his life, and he wasn’t shy about flaunting it. His snug floral shirt hung open, showing off his lean torso, and his patriotic swim trunks added a touch of flair. With a beer in hand and a grin on his face, he was ready to enjoy the annual neighborhood barbecue.
This year, however, there was something new. Off to the side of the yard, an unfamiliar man had set up a sleek, futuristic grill that shimmered in the sunlight. The man, who introduced himself as Mr. M, claimed it was no ordinary grill—it could “enhance” the eater in unimaginable ways. Most of the guests laughed it off, but James, always up for a challenge, decided to give it a shot.
“Alright, Mr. M, hit me with your best burger,” James said confidently.
Mr. M handed him a glowing, perfectly cooked patty on a toasted bun. “Enjoy. You’ll be… fulfilled,” he said with a sly smile.
James took a bite, and his taste buds exploded with delight. The burger was impossibly delicious, with flavors so rich and complex he couldn’t even describe them. He wolfed it down in seconds, licking his fingers. “That’s incredible!” he exclaimed.
But then, a strange warmth spread through his stomach. At first, it was subtle, like the afterglow of a hearty meal. But soon, the warmth intensified, becoming a tingling sensation that radiated outward.
“Uh… that’s weird,” James muttered, patting his stomach. It felt firmer than usual. His hand lingered there, and to his shock, he felt his belly pushing back against his touch.
It was growing.
James watched in horror as his flat stomach swelled outward, rounding slightly like a balloon being inflated. His open shirt began to strain against the growing girth. The tingling sensation was now a deep pressure, spreading across his torso.
“What the hell is happening?!” he exclaimed, stumbling back as his belly continued to expand.
The growth accelerated. His stomach pushed farther out, rounding into a noticeable paunch, then into a full-on gut. His waistband dug into his sides, and with a loud snap, the button on his swim trunks popped off, landing in the grass.
Guests began to notice. “James, are you okay?!” someone shouted.
“I… I don’t know!” James groaned, his voice tinged with panic. He clutched at his belly, but it was no use—his hands couldn’t stop the relentless expansion. His skin stretched taut, the smooth surface glinting in the sunlight.
As his belly grew, so did the rest of him. His thighs thickened, his arms became padded with layers of fat, and his face rounded, his jawline vanishing into soft cheeks. His entire body swelled outward, his weight skyrocketing.
At first, James felt panic and confusion. “What’s happening to me?!” he shouted, stumbling as his legs struggled to support his ballooning frame. But as his growth continued, the panic gave way to an overwhelming sense of helplessness. He could feel every inch of his body expanding, every ounce of added weight anchoring him further to the ground.
His belly now dominated his frame, a massive, round dome that jutted out several feet in front of him. He tried to adjust his stance, but it was impossible. His legs buckled, and with a loud thud, he sank onto the grass, his enormous body wobbling slightly from the impact.
By now, James had surpassed any normal size, his weight soaring into the thousands. He was enormous, immobile, and utterly overwhelmed. His skin was stretched tight over his gigantic form, and his breath came in short, labored gasps.
The party had come to a halt. Everyone stared in stunned silence, unsure of what to do. James, now the size of a small car, looked around desperately.
“Someone help me!” he pleaded, his voice trembling with embarrassment and fear.
But then, Mr. M appeared, his expression calm and amused. “Ah, yes. The Quantum Grill works wonders, doesn’t it? You’ve truly embraced your… appetite.”
James glared at him, his face flushed red. “You call this a wonder? I can’t even move!”
Mr. M shrugged. “Don’t worry. The effects are temporary… mostly. In the meantime, you’ll be the life of the party.”
James groaned, his massive belly rising and falling with each labored breath. He was humiliated, frustrated, and completely helpless. But as the shock began to wear off, a strange thought crept into his mind.
Was it really so bad? The guests were no longer staring in horror—they were laughing, posing for photos, and even stacking beer cans on his enormous belly. Despite himself, James cracked a small smile.
“Well,” he muttered, “at least I won’t have to get up for another burger.”
And with that, James resigned himself to his absurd new reality, becoming the star attraction of the strangest barbecue the neighborhood had ever seen.
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barbielore · 1 year ago
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Speaking as a non-American, I do not feel confident in my ability to fully assess the American Stories Collection of Barbies but nonetheless I will do my best to respectfully approach this series.
The American Stories Collection were a series of historical Barbies, representing what Mattel presumably thought were important parts of America's culture. These were released across 1994, 1995 and 1996. Each of them came with props to go along with their historical outfits, as well as a storybook.
For example, Civil War Nurse Barbie comes with a little bag presumably for her medical equipment.
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Meanwhile Patriot Barbie, whose box text indicates that she is out showing support for the Founding Fathers, has a little bell.
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There were in fact two different Barbies in the collection labelled Pioneer Barbie, one from 1994 and the other from 1995.
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One had a predominately green dress, a basket of apples, and a storybook entitled "Western Promise"; the other a milk jug, a floral dress with an apron, and a storybook entitled "Shopkeeper's Dream".
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This collection also featured dolls referred to as, and I believe this term is frequently now considered outdated to say the least, though I admit that as someone who is both white and non-American I am not fully informed about this, "American Indian Barbies".
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These two are the only dolls in the collection who are not depicted as white, and they are also the only dolls who have children or infants instead of props. The first of these has a storybook entitled "Animal Gifts", and the second has a story called "Baby Blue Feather".
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I do not know to what extent, if any, these costumes are historically accurate; but something about them leaves a bad taste in my mouth.
It is apparent, of course, that these dolls as whole represent a view of American history that is biased and from a colonialist perspective; I feel as though by the mid-90s Mattel could, and should, have done a better job.
(As usual please feel free to correct me if I am wrong about something, off base about anything, or if you would like this post tagged in any other way.)
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stamp-it-to-me · 2 years ago
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i have several new additions to my physical collection of stamps thanks to my wonderful friend Kylie who has been saving them for me which is so kind of her
[id: seven United States postage stamps in different designs. Three have floral designs, two have patriotic designs, one has a geometric design, and the last has a Christmas design. Six have ink marks on them, indicating that they have been used. end id]
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thiswasinevitable-rwrb · 1 year ago
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The stylists absolutely aced the outfits for Alex and Henry.
Henry is so restricted, every outfit screened by the royal institution, that all that poor boy wears is blue and shades of black (minus the patriotic red/blue polo shirt). He doesn't get a pop of orange or yellow until Alex is in his life.
Meanwhile, Alex gets to wear organic materials like his leather jacket, patterned fabrics for his vibrant personality, plus a nod to his Mexican heritage with the floral suit at the New Years party. Man's out here in pink swimming trunks like a four course meal.
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