#Tailors mannequin

[sewing-online]

Tailors mannequin

Our Sew Simple Dress Form has been updated to reflect a more natural female body shape, with full shoulders for an improved hang-to-sleeves ratio. The foam-packed nylon covering allows for easy pinning and marking and is available in different sizes to accompany our female dress forms. We also offer male dress forms with back length adjustment, pin grip hem marker, and plastic or wooden stands. Whether you're an experienced seamstress or tailor, we have a wide selection of dress forms, features, and sizes, including male and junior forms to meet your needs.

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[sofiaruelle]

Missed out on doing art studies last Sunday. So making up for it by making measurement diagrams for the class module. 😂

[azullumi]

Sorry but your thoughts on designer! Reader X Aventurine?

Like, I want to dress this peacock into so much staff, from tailored expensive suits with unbelievably beautiful patterns to the fucking dresses. (Rine in dress Rine in dress *trembles chews on chair*.)

Or maybe make him a living mannequin when he has free time? Like look at this man, the perfect waist. (new art new art omg)

It's like, so unrelated to IPC that maybe Aventurine would even find peace in having a Reader from a simple world (yeah simple fashion world of course yeah...)

Anyways, if it's boring or silly, you can just delete it!! It's okay, place your needs and desires first!

Cheese for you. 🧀

"the way you look tonight" ; aventurine

summary — you just get along with him so well and he just adores you so much.

pairing — aventurine (w/ fashion designer! reader)

tags — established relationship, fluff, not proofread, 1k words ; headcanons

note — i hope u like this nonnieee!! and thank you for the cheese 🧀 hopefully, he wasn't ooc in this one omgosh also this reminded me of the costume i have to make and i haven't started yet hahahaha?? this is day 3 of writing for this man until i have him.

Aventurine likes to adorn himself in expensive jewelry and clothing, to dress himself with extravagant accessories and jewelries (Have you seen the rings on his hands? His watch? The bracelets on his wrists?); that was a well-known fact. So when he met you for the first time as he visited a certain planet whose main trading point was fabric, textiles, clothing, and everything related to fashion, the relationship that will soon blossom will be inevitable. You just get along with him so well and he just adores you so much—it was like a match-made in the universe.

From then on, whenever he has the time to do so, he’ll arrange visits to your planet. It could be surprise visits or ones planned between you two (it’s mostly just him messaging you that he misses you so he’s planning on stopping by soon). Nevertheless, you love seeing him, love the way he always greets you with a hug and a kiss when he sees you. He’ll always bring you presents every time he comes by. Souvenirs from another planet, trinkets and charms that he thinks you would like, and occasionally, patterns, fabrics, clothes, and such.

Aventurine doesn’t mind you using him as your model—he was your muse, after all. He doesn’t mind having to stand still as you take his measurements or see which color suits him better by repeatedly alternating two different fabrics against his skin (it’s like a free color analysis). All the while, he’s entertained by just you talking to yourself and seemingly troubled.

“Hm, I think this one looks good, don’t you think?” You say as you fall into deep thought, holding the fabrics in your hand. You stand in front of the blond-haired man who just watches you the whole time with a relaxed look on his face—his soft gaze follows your every movement and a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “No, wait, but this one looks nice too. Why is it so hard to decide?”

You fall into silence, into deep thought, and Aventurine simply waits for your next move. He’s like a living mannequin but he doesn’t complain, afraid that he’ll break your focus if he speaks at this moment.

“What do you think?” Finally, you looked at him. He doesn’t answer immediately, but instead, he smiles and tucks a few strands of hair behind your ear.

“Have you eaten already?” He’ll ask, caressing the of your cheek so sweetly, so gently. A lull of a touch and you can’t help but to lean against his hand to seek more of his kindness. You’ll answer him with a hesitant tone, “I wasn’t asking that though…” He could immediately tell the answer with just the tone of your voice and the way you avert your gaze away from him.

“How about we go out and eat first? I have a reservation for the both of us at the restaurant down the street. They serve your favorites.”

He just likes watching you as you work; eyebrows scrunched, eyes focused, and gaze unwavering as you concentrate on what you’re doing. Occasionally, he’ll watch over your shoulder as you sketch a new design. If you have long hair, he’ll tie it back for you so that you won’t be bothered by your strands obstructing your sight. Sometimes, he’ll massage your shoulders as he kisses the crown of your head. However, when it’s already late at night, he’ll ask you to go to bed with him already while peppering your face with kisses until you’ll let go of your pencil and give in to his words.

Aw, you can’t afford to buy the fabric? You don’t have enough money to buy the pattern that you like? Everything is too expensive? Fortunately for you, this man is willing to spend millions—or even trillions—of credits just to get you what you want and need. You just have to ask and he’ll provide without hesitation. You’re worried about how you’ll repay him? Just a kiss will do.  A fair and perfect price for it all, right?

While Aventurine brings you to casinos with him, you also bring him to watch fashion shows with you—majority of the whole show, however, he would just be watching you and adoring the way your eyes sparkle and your expression brightens. You’ll ask him how the show was and which one he likes best and he doesn’t know how to answer your question, only thinking of how you looked so lovely at the moment.

PHOTOS OF HIS OUTFITS OF THE DAY!! He’ll randomly send you pictures of him standing in front of a mirror in just a simple pose as he shows you what he’s wearing to work. He likes it whenever you compliment him—tell him he looks good, that he looks amazing in the suit you’ve made, that he looks so handsome and you wish to kiss him. (i’m an avid believer of aventurine having words of affirmation as one of his love languages)

It’s undeniable that he looks good in everything that he wears, much more if it's made by your hands. He wears the clothes you tailored for him or the outfits you have planned for him, seemingly showing them off in a rather subtle yet loud way. He’ll occasionally adjust the cuffs of his wrist, fix his tie even though it’s not even messy, or anything that would grab the attention of the person he’s talking to so that they’ll bring it up in a conversation; “Stop adjusting your coat, Aventurine. I know (Name) designed it for you.” A certain silver-haired girl would say and the man adorned with your work would only answer with: “Aren’t they so talented?”

MATCHING CLOTHING (hello?! i know i already mentioned the matching things in my previous work BUT MATCHING CLOTHING WITH HIM!!), especially ones that you’ve designed and tailored for the both of you. Whenever the both of you are going out for a date, he’ll ask what color you’re going for today or what you’re wearing so that he can match you. Be surprised or not, but the bouquet of flowers he bought for you would also match the palette of your clothes.

The first time you proposed the idea of him wearing a dress, he was baffled and somewhat confused. One minute, you were talking about the design of a suit and asking for his opinion on the matter and the next, you’re asking him what he thinks of dresses. Before he knew it, he was with you, choosing among the many collections of dresses that you have garnered in either your closet or boutique. How could he say ‘no’ to you, eyes wide with expectation and gleaming like the surface of a jewel, how could he ever say ‘no’?

Everything was just so simple with you—a form of escape, a way of running away from the thoughts that binds him. Every moment that he spends with you eases him of the worries, of the stress, of the chains that holds him as if he was a flightless bird born in a cage (you were simply his solace). In your presence, he’ll find tranquility inked into the softness of your skin and he’ll murmur his wishes along the lines of your soul; he wishes everything was this warm and easy.

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works

[viaviavie]

in which sebek steals a dance with you during the glorious masquerade event. you both make an entire spectacle on the dance floor. (alternatively, sebek is flirting with you and is trying to be super nonchalant about it by saying it's for the sake of Malleus' honor). sebek zigvolt x reader note: i was watching this and imagined every single twst guy doing this in glorious masquarade. but i love sebek smsmsm so its sebek today. also, did you know that crocodiles do courtship dances during mating season?

Masquerade balls were not the most accessible event from your modern world. To think that you would get the opportunity was but a fleeting dream. At least, that was the case until you were dragged along to Fleur City. How fortunate of Vil to tailor your own attire for you. The process was not free of charge, of course. All it truly costed was several days of Vil playing dress up with his human mannequin. Thankfully, the fires caused by Rollo's magic never left a scratch on your garments, and you were more than happy that the ball had resumed after the incident.

With such grace, you let out a fit of giggles as Rook twirled you around on the dance floor. "Well done, Trickster! It seems that Vil's dance lessons have finally paid off as well." The blonde lowers himself to a bow, and you return a gesture of your own with a wide grin. "Yeah! I gotta thank him once we get back. Those shoes he recommended me were very good too!"

Looking back on the sea of students and staff alike, you found some relief in Trein watching over Grim and Deuce as they raided the tables lined up with food. Everyone else seemed to be occupied, whether they were mingling with other students or eyeing Rollo with caution. Rook takes your hand once more, stepping into the imaginary box dictating your steps as you pivot backwards. He leans into your ear, hands lightly tapping at your shoulders as you both paused.

"Have you noticed how Monsieur Crocodile has been watching you?"

Eyes flickering upwards, you see the half-fae standing guard by Malleus and Silver. Whereas Malleus seemed engrossed in a conversation with a Noble Bell student, and Silver occupied with his duty, Sebek's gaze was trained onto you like a hawk. It was too intense, too different from the way he watches over Malleus and his surroundings with such caution. No, this felt much different.

Rook leans in closer, and you swear he is smiling at Sebek. You swear that Rook is trying to provoke him with the way he shifts closer to your ear. "He has been eyeing you for a long time now, Trickster." The song sways into motion once more, and you have turned around to face the hunter entirely. He finds himself amused over your pink cheeks, the way you shake your head wildly in denial. "Please, Rook. He probably doesn't want me dishonoring Malleus in some way, shape, or form because his lord is associated with me." You rambled nervously, swallowing to yourself as Rook takes your hand and turns you through the dance floor as the strings soften their volume.

"Non, non. I would be delighted to disagree." Rook comes to a halt, tilting his head to the side as he returns his hands behind his back. You pause, confusion overtaking your expression until you turn your head to the side, finally eyeing what had caught the hunter's attention. Striding forward was a seemingly coolheaded Sebek, a hand trained behind his back and the other, relaxed at his side. Fixing his signature smile, Rook bows slightly before the knightly figure.

"Good evening, Monsieur Crocodile! I have yet to see you on the dance floor."

Clearing his throat, Sebek nods at Rook with a tight jaw. "It appears that Epel requires your presence. May you tend to him before he gets swamped with too many unwanted admirers?" The three of you glance off to the side, eyeing a distressed Epel trapped in a crowd of students who seem too eager to ask him for a dance. You suppose that without Vil to overshadow everyone else, Epel's charms were rather hard to resist for some. Maintaining that smile, Rook leaves with a short nod to both you and Sebek, striding away from the dance floor with poise.

Hands fallen to your lap, you watched as Sebek take a step closer in front of you. Does he hear your heart pounding as he holds out his arm? Biting onto your inner cheek, you tilted your head to meet his eyes which were filled with nothing but sheer determination. "Prefect, may I have the honor of stealing you for this dance?"

He does not miss the way your cheeks burn red now, and you do not miss the way his ears matched the same color. Steal? That sounded intimate, in comparison to simply 'asking' you for a dance. Not that it mattered though, not when your heart was doing the flips in your chest for him. "But of course, Sebek. I would be delighted."

It takes you by surprise as he reached out for your hand, gently lowering his head to place his lips against your knuckles. If you were already flushed red, surely, you felt even warmer than before. You do not even register the way he places his hand on your waist, the other held high for you to clasp on. You waste no time either on shuffling your steps according to his pace, constantly adjusting and turning to his lead. Though his head was held highly, his eyes were still trained onto your face.

"I never knew that you were good at dancing." You tell him, taking a quick glance to the side to find Malleus and Silver observing you both, smiling at the sight. Sebek pays no mind to the crowd, grunting in response. "To master the art of dancing is another skill to perfect, should I be a knight worthy of the Young Master. Even beyond the sword, it is his honor that I carry."

The strings are soft and gentle as Sebek circles you, his hand never leaving your waist. To onlookers, it appears that Malleus's vassal in the making has a second master. He is close, yet keeps a distance to exercise his restraint. Sebek knows better than to impose onto your space, but he would not appear to be a stranger. After spending more than enough time with you, whether it be within the company of Malleus or not, it was safe to say you were at least acquaintances, if not friends.

Still, friends do not dance together so intimately in front of crowds, not like this. There was a certain delicacy to his steps, and you can feel his eyes on you even when your back his turned. When he takes your hand, he laces his fingers before pulling away as if you were set alight. You try to follow, give chase as you both brush elbows with a turn, barely catching his conflicted expression as he returns his hand to your waist. It is a neverending cycle of push and pull, chasing and running, wanting and longing.

With a pivot, you take a step towards Sebek's chest as he closes the distance. A quiet gasp leaves your lips as your chin lightly brushes against the padding of his chest, just as his hand presses against your lower back for support.

And just then, the music stops and all you hear are murmurs and whispers from the crowd.

You take the time to peer into your surroundings past Sebek's shoulder, marveling at the crowd that had seemed to circle the grand ballroom. Pairs of Noble Bell students are stationed at the border of the dance floor, centering you and Sebek in the middle of it all. The combination of a magicless student and a half-fae look out of place, not to mention how your attires seemed to stand out from Fleur City's garments.

Sebek comes to the conclusion faster than you as he huffed to himself. "Ah, it seems we are put on the spot." For once, he is quiet. Quiet does not always yield to meekness, however. He lowers himself to your ear, unable to see your piqued expression. "What shall we do, Sebek?" You feel him shift his head every so slightly, looking towards the direction of where Malleus was supposedly sitting.

The half-fae grunted, and you could feel his fingers on your hip tense slightly. "The Young Master's honor befalls on us both, so does the honor of Night Raven College." After what felt like a long time, Sebek slowly pulled away to look you in the eye. You were not shying away from him, too lost in the moment to consider the possibility of stage fright.

"Prepare yourself, Prefect. I shall not hold back on your accord if you wish." Bravado returns to Sebek's voice, almost similar to his usual tone when proudly representing the Briar prince. It is the way that his lips threaten to twitch into a smirk as you beam at him with an agreeable nod. "Good, looks like we're on the same page." You breathed out, the strings strumming to life once more. The tempo is faster now, and your head tunes into the beat quickly.

You surprise Sebek as you take the initiative first. Much like the Trickster you were, you circle Sebek once with an arm ghosted before his chest until you meet his front. Clenching his jaw, he was taken aback by a mere moment by your boldness before a smug smirk surfaces across his features. He takes your hand slowly, taking a careful step forward before falling into the beat.

You supposed that everyone had Vil to thank for teaching the inexperienced students on how to dance with one another. It was not the first time you would be dancing with Sebek, but this was an entirely different matter. There wasn't much of a dance routine to recall, but only trust that your partner would always be in sync with you.

Sebek never disappoints when it came to observation, and it didn't take too long for him to adjust to your movements.

The world spins with each turn and pivot, but Sebek never relents and neither do you. His cape is flying through the air, and the extensions from your clothes flow in sync with his movements. As you barely ghost your head from his chest, you continue to glance into the crowd. You were barely able to catch Deuce and Grim from the crowd, attempting to support you with a 'thumbs-up'. Then you could see Rollo and Malleus side-by-side, arms crossed and musing upon the sight.

Everyone was switching partners, leaping from one dancer to another. Sebek's gentle grip on you remained, and your hand never leaves his shoulder as you both spun.

There were so many people whose eyes were trained on you, and the idea makes your head spin until your dance partner noticed. "Prefect, do not stray your gaze from me." You are almost startled by how commandeering his voice had become. For a slight moment, you both pull away, an arm behind your backs and the other lacing fingers. His eyes trained onto yours, as they always were, Sebek gives you an encouraging smile. "Focus on me." You do not understand, judging by the way you cock your head to the side innocently. "Care not for what the others think of you. It is only you and I here."

It takes a moment for you to relax, returning his smile before you closed the distance once more with a sweep of your foot. "And what are you thinking of, Sebek?" You respond, and it is that look on your face that takes his breath away. As he sweeps at the floor with you, he struggles to find the words. Between dancing and thinking, both had begun to feel difficult with each second that passes while he remained fixed onto your eyes. Ever so quietly, he finally clears his throat to answer your question.

"I am thinking about how the radiance of Fleur City pales when compared to your expressions."

Everyone is leaping again, the colors of Noble Bell wash over into a blur as your lips parted with surprise. Words are trapped in your throat as you looked up at Sebek, eyes softening in thought. For a moment, Sebek's face froze, almost as if he feared your reaction when it was anything but rejection. Your silence would've pained him, if he weren't so captivated by your expression as the world continues to spin.

Finally, he breaks the silence with a whine.

"Please don't look at me like that, Prefect. I beg you." It snaps you out of your trance, prompting you to furrow your eyebrows slightly in confusion. "Why? I am only looking at you like you asked." Sebek's grip tightens only slightly, demonstrating even further restraint. Almost like an agonized hiss, he responds with an accusing glare. "That's exactly it! I cannot think straight when you look at me with such an endearing expression!"

If it was an indirect comment, it cracks a smile from your face. Even as your eyes flutter shut into your stifled laughter, you never truly face away from the half-fae. Huffing to himself, Sebek's ears flush a warm pink. "You dare provoke me like this?" He says quietly, but it is merely a warning before he puffs up his chest with pride, regaining a new sense of energy.

Squeezing your hand with care, Sebek cleared his throat with a scowl. "Very well, then I shall give you my all for tonight. Do not regret this." As surly as he attempts to be, it does not deter you from returning his gesture with a squeeze of your own. "Of course not!"

You no longer know how long you have been dancing for. It seems that a few pairs have resigned to rest, leaving behind more room for you and Sebek to explore. You've long stopped paying attention to your surroundings, far too concerned with the way Sebek mutters quick praises into your ear with each turn and twirl. He is swift with his feet, yet so careful to ensure you do not fall on his watch. Neither of you have yet to stumble, far too engrossed and connected to collapse now.

"Good, Prefect! Keep up!"

The music never stops, and it seems it has no intents of stopping until only one pair remains. If your feet were ever tired, you never notice, not when Sebek's hands are constantly finding ways to touch you. Even as you both part for mere seconds, it does not take long for him to come back. He returns to you, just as how you retreat to him, how you surrender yourself to him, how you trust him to not let you fall.

You never realize how he comes so close to your face, dipping you low until his breath brushes against the crook of your neck. Sebek's arm was secure in the way he kept you from falling onto the floor, despite how far he had lowered you. His hot breath brushed against your cheek, and you could feel his body tense as you tighten your grip on his shoulder. "Is it appropriate for you to be this close to me?" You murmured softly, meeting his dilated eyes, that beautiful shade of gold. "Does it cause you discomfort?" He muttered in turn, almost ready to shift away should you express it. Much to his concern, you shook your head with a coy smile. "No."

Sebek held a smug smirk, confidence reflected behind his eyes once more. Just as he heaved forward to pull you back up, his lips brushed against the slight curve of your ear. For a moment, you wondered if it was just your imagination when you felt a sharp fang press itself against your skin for a brief moment.

"Very good, Prefect."

It clicks.

This is no longer an ordinary dance. It is a game of hiding one's affections. For someone as loud and proud like Sebek, it comes to a slight surprise that he would indulge in subtleties to express his fondness for you. Once he had pulled you from his dip, something changes within Sebek's movements.

Sebek holds you as if he were possessed, eyes glazed with yearning. The song had begun to ride out its climax, intensifying just as your partner closed in on you like a predator trapping its prey. It's not just about upholding reputations now.

Leaning into your space, Sebek's restrained hand lightly clawed at your back as he presses you closer to him. Finally able to obscure himself from your vision, he struggled to keep himself from growling, however much he could hold back the fae within him.

"Be careful, Prefect. If you keep looking at me with those eyes of yours,"

Pulling away, he bares his fangs before you, teeth clenched with intense concentration. Perhaps the act of putting on a show was no longer on his mind, traded in for the experience of watching your lovely expressions as he continued to control your turns with each step and pull. Sebek would never let you turn away from him, and you wouldn't dare to tear yourself away from his powerful gaze.

"I might just devour you whole."

"Monsieur Crocodile! I did not expect such a display from him, I applaud his tenacity!" Azul sighed to himself, debating on whether he should or shouldn't entertain the blonde who had taken to himself with a handkerchief to his eye. Against his better judgement, he turns to Rook with an exasperated expression. "His tenacity is applaudable, yes. Still, I do not understand why you have to shed a tear, Rook."

"Have you not noticed, Roi d'Effort?" Rook clicks his tongue, his smile relaxing as he swoons over the sight of the pair returning to Malleus and Silver. "It is most common to part from your current partner and land in the arms of another for these waltzes. The entire point of this dance is to explore different faces, after all." Only then does it click for Azul who hums in amusement, seemingly impressed by the sentiment.

"Monsieur Crocodile has not switched partners at all, and the knight-to-be has no intentions of ever handing off the Trickster to anyone else." Azul certainly never coined Sebek to be quite the romantic.

From a distance, you nudged Sebek's shoulder with a cheeky smile. "I suppose this demonstrates the good will between fae and humans, doesn't it?" You teased, only to be met by a reddened Sebek. All the bravado he exhibited during that dance seemed to have disappeared in Malleus's presence, but it's not as if you disliked it.

"R-Right! You are correct, Prefect! This spectacle shall demonstrate the Young Master's benevolence towards humans, as well as all those who represent him!" Sebek rambled, unable to meet you in the eye. Rubbing at the back of his neck, Malleus could only smile to himself in amusement.

It seems that Lilia had won his bet; Sebek will not be expressing the entirety of his true feelings to you today.

[simdertalia]

🧵 ACNH Able Sisters Store Set 🪡

Sims 4, Base game compatible | 48 Now 51 items

(added the awning, chimney, and the stairs as a deco item with no footprint)

All the items you'll need to recreate The Able Sisters cute little shop in your TS4 game. All items came with only 1 swatch each. There are a few items that I added a couple of extra swatches for.

As always, turning the brightness down on functional lamps will make them look better (not overly bright) due to my vertex paint issue in Blender.

Type “ACNH Able” into the search query in build mode to find  quickly. You can always find items like this, just begin typing the title and it will appear.

Use the raise & lower keyboard cheat to put your already styled mannequins onto the displays. The displays have slots, but mannequins will only let you place them on the floor, and won't allow styling once they have been raised, so make sure to do that first. They only need to be raised 1-2 notches depending on which display you are placing them on.

Use the scale up & down feature on your keyboard to make the items larger or smaller to your liking. If you have a non-US keyboard, it may be different keys depending on which alphabet it uses.

I hope you enjoy! ☺️

Set contains: Buy: -Books Decor | 1 swatch | 70 poly -Display Tables 1-4 (for mannequins, slotted but see note above for using mannequins on tables) | 1 swatch each | 126, 594, 250, & 148 poly -Dresser Table (functional dresser) | 4 swatches | 796 poly -Fabric Crate | 3 swatches | 1156 poly -Fabric Cubby (slotted) | 1 swatch | 644 poly -Fitting Room Curtain | 1 swatch | 3482 poly -Framed Quilt (storefront) | 3 swatches | 44 poly -Framed Quilting (2 framed squares) | 1 swatch | 86 poly -Framed Wall Photos | 1 swatch | 376 poly -Hanging Flowers | 1 swatch | 778 poly -Hanging Quilt | 1 swatch | 590 poly -Jars | 1 swatch | 1815 poly -Label Doll | 4 swatches for facial expression | 6956 poly -Lamp: Indoor | 1 swatch | 740 poly -Lamp: Outdoor | 2 swatches | 282 poly -Large Baskets (slotted) | 3 swatches | 822 poly -Mabel Doll | 4 swatches for facial expression | 6200 poly -Pencil | 1 swatch | 70 poly -Potted Plant | 2 swatches | 776 poly -Rug: Fitting Room 1 | 1 swatch | 10 poly -Rug: Fitting Room 2 | 1 swatch | 34 poly -Rug: Large | 1 swatch | 587 poly -Rug: Sewing | 1 swatch | 108 poly -Sable Doll | 4 swatches for facial expression | 6200 poly -Sewing Machine | 1 swatch | 1976 poly -Sewing Table | 1 swatch | 224 poly -Sketchbook (slotted for pencil or whatever!) | 1 swatch | 542 poly -Stool End Table (Dressing Room) | 3 swatches | 298 poly -Store Sign (storefront) 6 different items for different languages (English, French, German, Italian, NL, Spanish) | 1 swatch each | 1194 poly -Store Sign 2 (hanging) | 2 swatches | 174 poly -Store Window Display | 1 swatch | 820 poly -Tailoring Machine 1-2 (screen glows in the dark) | 1 swatch each | 462 & 736 poly -Tool Basket | 1 swatch | 721 poly -Wall Hanger (dressing room) | 2 swatches | 324 poly -Wall Hooks Panel | 1 swatch | 380 poly -Wall Mirror | 1 swatch | 44 poly -Wall Spools | 1 swatch | 894 poly

Build: -Wallpaper/Paneling | 1 swatch -Wood Floor | 2 swatches for orientation

📁 Download all or pick & choose (SFS, No Ads): HERE

📁 Alt Mega Download (still no ads): HERE

📁 Download on Patreon

Will be public on December 5th, 2023

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[moonselune]

Could I please request headcanons or a Drabble for postgame Tailor!Astarion x reader? The worms are eating my brain I can’t stop thinking about him pinning dresses on his s/o with a measuring tape round his neck

The brain worms entered my head as well upon reading this

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Tailor!Astarion xf!reader | The Most Beautiful Mannequin

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion worked with a meticulous grace, his hands sure and steady as they roamed over your body, pinning fabric here and there. It was strange, to see him in this domestic light. Gone was the battle-hardened vampire spawn with his daggers and shortswords in hand, now replaced by a man who had found peace in the art of tailoring, his fingers just as deft with needle and thread as they’d been with blades.

The light of the afternoon sun spilled through the window of your shared home, bathing the room in a warm glow. You stood in front of the mirror, dressed in little more than the fabric he’d carefully draped over you, while Astarion worked around you like an artist with his masterpiece.

He was muttering something to himself, eyes narrowed in concentration as he adjusted the hem of the dress. A length of measuring tape hung around his neck, and a handful of pins were tucked between his lips, their metallic gleam catching the light. Every now and then, he’d pluck one from his mouth and secure a fold of fabric, his fingers brushing against your skin in a way that sent a shiver up your spine.

“You know,” he said around the pins, his voice slightly muffled but still carrying that familiar, teasing lilt, “this would go much faster if you could stay still for even half a minute.”

“I’m trying,” you protested, though the soft laugh that followed betrayed your amusement. “It’s not easy when you keep poking me with pins.”

“Well, if you didn’t wriggle so much, my dear, I wouldn’t have to poke you,” he countered, raising an eyebrow as he removed the pins from his mouth and placed them on a nearby table. “Honestly, you’d think you’d never been fitted for a dress before.”

“Not by someone like you,” you murmured, letting your eyes linger on him for a moment. He wore a simple linen shirt with the sleeves rolled up, exposing the pale, smooth skin of his forearms, and there was a casual elegance to him that made your heart skip a beat.

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” he replied with a smirk, though you could see the faint flush that crept up his neck. “Now, arms up. I need to see how this falls.”

You obliged, lifting your arms as he instructed, and he stepped closer, his body brushing against yours as he adjusted the fabric over your shoulders. You could feel the warmth radiating off him, the gentle press of his fingers as they smoothed out a crease. His touch was so light, so careful, as if he was afraid that one wrong move might tear the delicate material—or perhaps tear you.

He took a step back, scrutinizing his work with a critical eye, before making another adjustment, his fingers brushing against your waist.

“Much better,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. “You know, I must say, you do make for quite the lovely mannequin.”

“Mannequin?” you repeated, giving him a mock glare. “I didn’t realize I’d been reduced to nothing more than a glorified coat hanger.”

“Well, if you could refrain from moving every other second, perhaps I could start seeing you as something more,” he teased, his lips quirking into that familiar, devilish grin. “But alas, you’re not making it easy, darling.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re adorable,” he shot back without missing a beat, stepping closer once more.

This time, his hands rested on your hips, his touch lingering, and you felt your heart skip a beat as he leaned in, his breath ghosting against your ear.

“Besides,” he murmured, “it’s not every day I get to play dress-up with the most beautiful person in all the realms.”

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks at his words, and you bit your lip to keep from smiling too widely.

“You’re incorrigible,” you muttered.

“And yet, you adore me,” he replied smugly, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck before he pulled away to continue his work.

For a while, you stood there in comfortable silence, letting him work his magic. Every so often, you’d catch him stealing glances at you in the mirror, a soft, almost tender expression crossing his face before he quickly masked it with that practiced smirk. It was those moments that made your heart ache with affection, that reminded you just how much he’d changed, how far you’d both come since the days of endless battles and bloodshed.

“There,” he said finally, stepping back to admire his handiwork. “What do you think?”

You turned to look at yourself in the mirror, your breath catching in your throat. The dress was exquisite, the fabric hugging your body in all the right places, the cut and stitching flawless. It was a work of art, and you couldn’t help but marvel at how perfectly it suited you, as if it had been made for you—and in a way, it had.

“It’s beautiful,” you breathed, turning to face him, your eyes shining with gratitude. “You’re amazing, Astarion.”

He shrugged, though you could see the pride in his eyes, the way his chest puffed out just a little.

“Well, I do try,” he said, though his voice was softer now, more genuine. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it,” you corrected, reaching out to take his hand in yours. “And I love you.”

He blinked, his eyes widening slightly before he let out a soft laugh, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

“Always so sentimental,” he teased, though there was no bite to his words, only warmth. “But for once, I suppose I’ll allow it.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips.

“Thank you,” you said, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. “For everything.”

He hummed, a pleased sound rumbling in his chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close.

“Anything for you, darling,” he murmured against your lips, his eyes shining with a love that made your heart feel like it might burst. “Anything at all.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Oh I actually adore Tailor!Astarion so much, and I hope you guys adore him too! - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

[rainbow-neko-artblog]

Hello rainbow neko!! Big fan of your poppy playtime comic au.

I have a feeling we will learn a lot about angel during chapter three. I am really curious like are they half human half mannequin do to the white body parts during your art showing angel during chapter 1 and three.

I am guessing during the red smoke even in chapter three we will get to see angel backstory and what specifically happened to them and how they escaped.

TRIGGER WARNING: Body Dysphoria and Heavily implied Surgical Procedures.

Awnsers for several questions! Little more clear insight into just how fucked up Angel's mental health is- and how they will throw their problems away for the excitement of new companions.

In terms of food? The toys left very full vending machines around- food is a non-issue....if they can keep it down long enough to get anything from it. The dead toys do effect them heavily. It's sort of like...looking in a mirror of what could have happened to himself.

Angel is aware of what his toy was supposed to look like...it hit the shelves while he was outside of playtime co's factory.....He chooses to play dumb in the filler comic so he doesn't worry the toy he's currently holding- trying to make it into a joke and failing- but ya know.....not outright saying what's wrong with him.

As you can see- stuff i don't show in the comics is relatively the same. Angel still saw Kissy back in Chapter 2, but she left and he didn't catch up to her before she disappeared. Also i showed the nightmare because Catnap DOES consider Angel's Cross and prayers to be blasphemy- and he takes it out on them in the form of more tailored nightmares to freak them out a lot more.

[sewing-online]

Adjustable Sewing Tables: Benefits for Tailors of All Heights and Skill Levels

Adjustable sewing tables are essential for tailors of all heights and skill levels, offering numerous benefits. Their customizable height allows users to work comfortably, reducing strain on the back and neck, which is crucial during long sewing sessions. This versatility also accommodates different tasks, from cutting fabric to detailed sewing, making it easier to switch between projects. An adjustable table can promote better posture and enhance precision, leading to improved craftsmanship. Additionally, these tables often come with features like built-in storage and extension leaves, providing ample space for tools and materials, ultimately creating a more efficient and enjoyable sewing experience.

Sewing tools are a necessity for any person who works as a seamstress, dressmaker or tailor. They would need items like a Tailors mannequin that helps them to see exactly how a particular garment looks on the human form. Even if a garment is not finished, one can pin pieces of it to a mannequin to maintain its form and figure. Tailors would also need a practical and stylish sewing basket to effectively organize all sewing accessories. It would help in keeping all sewing accessories organized and ready for use.

To keep the sewing space well-organized, people also have to invest in sturdy and spacious sewing tables. Usually, the tables specially made for sewing are collapsible and lightweight. Hence, they make it easier for people to travel with their workspace. Sewing tables are available in an expansive variety of colors and sizes. This basically means that people can personalize these tables without a hassle. Sewing tables ideally emphasizes on sturdiness and convenience. Investing in the right sewing table would help tailors to complete their projects faster and benefit from better ergonomics.

Many tailors prefer to do their cutting while standing. They also iron their clothes while standing. This leaves many hunched over a traditional desk or table. Sewing tables with a drop-down platform can help the tailors to align the table's height with the sewing machine or make it more comfortable to use while standing. These tables tend to come in a variety of strength and stability combinations.

[nevertoomanyspiders]

OC time.

a humble tailor who lives somewhere in Munchkin Country.

he often talks to his living Mannequin who became alive after he was fixing the coat of a sorcerer and magic residue ended up animating the mannequin, who isn't terribly excited about being alive.

[seat-safety-switch]

Disney movies teach us that folks with a good heart have the ability to commune with small woodland creatures. Well, I'm gonna tell you right now, the chick down the block who controls rats with her mind is no Cinderella.

Hazel and I have been neighbours for a couple of years now. The rat thing wasn't really noticeable immediately. We'd meet at the mailbox, exchange pleasantries. She was solidly in the category of "neighbours I wave at when I see them." So it was a big surprise when I went over to help her put a new battery in her New Beetle, and found all the fucking rats.

Now, I'm not a fan of rats in general. They like to eat the wiring of your car, as well as make horrid little nests inside the seats and poop all over where your air filter used to be. Generally not great for long-term use of an automobile. These rats, though, were something else. I expected them to dart when I yelled in terror, but they just swarmed around in concentric circles, like ripples in a pond. Neighbour Hazel looked at my shocked face with some confusion, and then started to laugh.

"These guys help me out with all of my work," she explained after I finished swapping the battery. Then she turned and led me to a dress mannequin in the corner of her basement of which an seemingly-infinite blanket of rodents was currently swarming. She waved her hand to disperse the creatures, who fled into every available crook and shadow of the building. Underneath those rodents turned out to be an immaculate ballgown.

"People don't know this, but rats are actually very good at tailoring." I politely excused myself for the bathroom, walking back to the outside through a sea of rats that parted gently as I stepped, and then went back to my home (after throwing my clothes in a nearby ditch and burning them.)

We're still Wave-At Neighbours, but it seems unlikely I'll be going over to her place for Pasta Tuesdays. Which is for the best, really, because I already get in enough trouble with the law as it is. There's no reason to start hanging out with someone who can skeletonize a traffic cop without getting her blouse dirty. Remember, Hazel owns a Volkswagen and I'd always be over there fixing it. Even with the rats helping, it's just not worth it.

[saphig-iawn]

My Own Sailor Scout

When someone requests my services, we spend some time chatting about their desires for the session. They already know what I am capable of, but I always make sure that I tailor sessions in such a way that their desires and fantasies are fulfilled without straining the poor things.

Even when we want it, letting go and allowing someone else to take the reins can be tough, and this Doll wanted to take those first steps.

We chatted and designed the session all around letting go, and letting me in.

The first bit of magic would be a simple little spell that when I clicked my fingers she would lock in place-

Like a statue…

Like a mannequin waiting for an outfit…

Like a drone awaiting a command…

When I brought her up and out of trance with my magic held deep inside a safe space in her mind, we chatted a little more. It was her first time going under with the purpose of having a new spell so I wanted to know about how the trance felt, how she-

SNAP

Her voice fell silent.

Her body slowed.

Her mind quietened.

I couldn't help but giggle to myself. I know how she is feeling right now. A whirl of excitement and disbelief, roiling and bubbling with joy. I spoke aloud to her, teasing a little.

She found herself speechless when I released her, giggling and giggling. I was right. She couldn't believe it. Every attempt to try and communicate how she felt just fell to cute dolly giggles.

And so I wove my second piece of magic, that when I have her frozen in place if I described myself posing her body she would feel herself being posed.

She was an excellent doll.

First I started with adorable little head tilts, and smiles, making her feel my control. Then I'd pool her hands in her lap like a sweet doll.

Every time I froze her and posed her, and then released her, she eagerly asked to be frozen and posed again. Each of her words was brimming with happiness, that is, if she was able to stop giggling in disbelief to get them out.

We wrapped up the session with something a little more fun.

I turned into her my own cutesy figurine.

I snapped my fingers and guided her up and out of her chair.

I brought her heels together, and lent her back so her cute behind would be on show.

I moved her head forward, gave it a little tilt, a smile, and closed one of her eyes in a wink.

The cherry on top; moving her hand to her closed eye in an adorable peace sign.

I kept her there for a little while, cooed in her ear about dressing her in a cute outfit and placing her on my shelf.

There was nothing she could do about it.

And that was how she wanted it.

My own Sailor Scout.

This was of a session with one of my clients, did you enjoy? You can support me on Ko-fi, and if you'd like to experience hypnosis with me, check my pinned post or fill out my Intake Form!

[muiitoloko]

Dressing room

Summary: Judge Turpin was insatiable and always looked for an opportunity to have you, even if it was in a dressing room at a suit store.

Pairing: Judge Turpin × Fem! Reader

Warnings: Smut

Author's Notes: Just a glimpse into the early days of the Turpin marriage, from the series "Love?" Although honestly, I saw this one-shot as rubbish. I think I'm getting bad at writing. 😅

First, Second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh, eighth and ninth part here.

You sat alone in the opulent suit shop, surrounded by mannequins dressed in rich, elaborate suits that bespoke a life you had never imagined. The shop was grand, with polished wood floors and walls lined with shelves of tailored garments. But despite the luxury, a shiver ran down your spine as you glanced around nervously, feeling out of place in this foreign world.

It had only been two weeks since your marriage to Richard Turpin, a man who struck fear into your heart with his cold, unyielding demeanor and imposing presence. His hooked nose and baritone voice seemed to echo through your mind, a constant reminder of his dominance over your life now.

Turpin had brought you to London from your small village, promising a life of wealth and security. Yet, as you stood here in this shop, waiting for him to finish trying on suits, you couldn't shake the feeling of dread that accompanied you wherever you went.

The loyal employee, a man named Beadle Bamford, stood nearby, his sharp eyes fixed on you as if he were watching for any signs of disobedience. His presence unnerved you; he was a reminder of the control Turpin had over you, even in public places like this.

You glanced down at your hands, your wedding band catching the light. Turpin never let you forget that he owned you now, body and soul. He kept you on a tight leash, allowing you out of the house only when he was by your side. It was suffocating.

The sound of a door being opened broke your reverie, and you looked up to see Turpin emerging from the dressing area, adjusting the cuffs of a fine silk shirt under a dark, tailored suit jacket. His expression was stern, eyes cold as he examined his reflection in the mirror. He seemed pleased with his appearance, a dangerous glint in his eye that made you shiver.

"Is this to your liking, my dear?" Turpin asked, his voice low and demanding as he turned to face you. His words were meant to sound polite, but they carried an undercurrent of authority that left no room for disagreement.

"Yes, it looks very nice," you replied softly, trying to keep your voice steady despite the fear rising within you.

Turpin nodded, satisfied with your response, and turned to tailor. "We'll take this one," he stated firmly, his tone brooking no argument.

The tailor nodded deferentially, his eyes flicking briefly to you before he turned to retrieve the suit from its display. As he disappeared into the back of the shop, you felt Turpin's gaze bore into you once more, his expression unreadable.

"You've been very well-behaved today," Turpin remarked, his voice deceptively calm as he took a step closer to you. "I trust you're learning to appreciate the finer things in life."

You nodded silently, unsure of what he wanted from you. The truth was, you were still struggling to adjust to this new life, surrounded by opulence and luxury that felt more like a gilded cage than anything else.

Turpin reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against your cheek in a gesture that should have been tender, but instead sent a shiver of dread down your spine. His touch was possessive, a silent reminder of the control he had over you.

When the tailor returned, you watched Turpin talk to him in a low voice. The exchange was too quiet for you to hear. The tailor nodded before walking away, disappearing into the back of the shop. Turpin turned to his assistant, barking a single sharp command at Beadle: "Go away!" Beadle complied without question, his demeanor subservient as he scurried off to attend to his master's bidding.

Alone in the store with Turpin, you felt a sense of unease settle over you like a suffocating blanket. His presence was suffocating, his imposing figure casting a long shadow over you as he approached, his eyes fixed on you with a predatory gleam.

Suddenly, Turpin grabbed your hand and pulled you with him into the dressing room, his grip firm and unyielding as he led you away from prying eyes. You stumbled after him, your heart pounding in your chest as you struggled to keep up with his brisk pace.

Once inside the dressing room, Turpin closed the door behind him with a decisive click, the sound echoing in the small space with ominous finality. You watched him warily, your nerves on edge as you waited for him to speak.

"Why are we here?" you questioned, your voice trembling with nervousness as you eyed Turpin warily. "What do you want from me?"

Turpin silenced you with a cold, calculating look, his eyes glinting with a mixture of desire and dominance. "I paid the tailor good money to leave us alone," he explained, his voice low and commanding as he stepped closer to you. "I have no intention of wasting this opportunity to fuck you."

You were shocked by your husband's shamelessness, yet another reminder of his brazen and insatiable nature. Despite your protests, Turpin paid you no mind, his intentions clear as he reached out to pull you closer to him.

And as he pressed you against the wall of the dressing room, his hands roamed over your body with a possessiveness that sent a shiver down your spine. You tried to protest, not wanting to engage in such intimate acts in such a public place, but Turpin's relentless advances left you powerless to resist.

With a rough tug, Turpin lifted your skirts, his fingers fumbling with the laces of your undergarments as he prepared to take you right then and there. You pleaded with him to stop, to show some restraint, but your words fell on deaf ears as Turpin's desire overpowered any sense of reason or decency.

But as Turpin dropped to his knees before you, instructing you to keep your skirts up, you nodded, a little stunned to see your powerful husband on his knees in front of you. But before you could fully comprehend the situation, he surprised you once again as he buried his face between your legs.

You gasped in surprise as you felt his warm breath against your skin, his tongue tracing delicate patterns along your folds. It was a strange sensation, one you had never experienced before, but you found yourself enjoying the unexpected pleasure as Turpin eagerly tasted you.

His movements were skilled and determined, his tongue exploring every inch of your sensitive flesh as he sought to please you. You arched your back in response, a moan escaping your lips as he found just the right angle to send waves of pleasure coursing through you.

With one of your legs draped over his shoulder, Turpin had a better angle to delve deeper, his ministrations becoming more fervent as he sought to elicit even more pleasure from you. His hands gripped your hips tightly, holding you in place as he devoured you with a hunger that left you breathless.

"Richard," you gasped, your voice trembling with desire as you looked down at him with lust-filled eyes. "Don't stop. Please, don't stop."

Turpin's only response was a low growl of approval as he redoubled his efforts, his tongue working tirelessly to bring you to the brink of ecstasy. With each flick and swirl, he pushed you closer and closer to the edge, his own desire evident in the fervor of his movements.

Turpin continued to pleasure you with his tongue. He couldn't help but revel in the taste of your essence, his curiosity piqued by the unfamiliar sensation. Despite his usual aversion to oral sex, he found himself enjoying the experience. His tongue delved deep inside you as he thrust with a fervor that mirrored his desire to possess you completely.

And as you moaned and writhed above him, Turpin felt a sense of satisfaction wash over him, knowing that he was the one bringing you to such heights of pleasure. He teased your clit with his hooked nose, the sensation driving you wild with desire as you begged for more.

But when you finally reached the peak of ecstasy, your body trembling with the force of your orgasm, Turpin knew it was time to move on to the next phase of their encounter. With a satisfied smirk, he stood up, undoing the pants of his expensive suit to reveal his cock, already hard and throbbing with anticipation.

"Get on your knees and bend over," Turpin instructed, his voice commanding as he gestured towards one of the benches in the dressing room. You obeyed without hesitation, still limp from your earlier orgasm as Turpin fell to his knees behind you.

With one hand, Turpin spread your ass cheeks wide, his gaze fixed on your little hole with a hunger that made you shiver with anticipation. He wanted nothing more than to plunge into you right then and there, to claim you in every way possible. But he knew he had to be patient, to prepare you properly for what was to come.

For now, he contented himself with your dripping pussy, which he had trained so well since marrying you. With a low growl of desire, Turpin thrust into you with a force that made you cry out in pleasure, the sound echoing in the small confines of the dressing room.

"You're mine, my dear," Turpin growled, his voice dripping with possessiveness as he claimed you as his own. "And I'm going to make you scream my name."

With each thrust, Turpin drove you closer and closer to the edge, his cock filling you completely as he claimed you as his own. And as you surrendered to the pleasure of his touch, you couldn't help but moan in ecstasy, your body trembling with the force of your desire as Turpin ravished you with a passion that left you breathless and begging for more.

Turpin leaned into you, his chest pressing against your back as he panted in your ear, his breath hot and heavy against your skin. "Soon, my dear," he whispered, his voice low and husky with desire. "Soon, I'll fuck all your holes until you're begging for mercy."

You whimpered with each thrust, the pleasure overwhelming as Turpin claimed you as his own. But before you could fully comprehend his words, he silenced you with a firm hand pressed against your throat, his eyes burning with possessiveness as he imagined other people hearing the sweet sounds of your pleasure.

"No one else gets to hear these sounds," Turpin growled, his voice laced with possessive desire. "They're mine, and mine alone. I'll kill any man who dares to lay eyes on you or hear you moan like this."

And as he continued to ravish you with a ferocity that left you breathless, you surrendered to the pleasure of his touch, your trained pussy accepting his dick with eager anticipation. With each thrust, each moan of pleasure, you knew that you belonged to him completely, body and soul, and that there was no escaping his grasp.

Turpin continued to ravish you. His grip on your throat tightened, and his fingers dug into your skin with a possessiveness that left you breathless. You gasped for air, your heart pounding in your chest as Turpin's mouth pressed against your ear. His hot breath sent shivers down your spine.

"You're mine, my dear," Turpin growled, his voice low and husky with desire. "Mine to use, mine to fuck. Your pussy was made for me, and soon your ass will be too."

You whimpered in response, the pleasure of his touch overwhelming as he claimed you as his own. Turpin's cock pounded into you relentlessly, each thrust driving you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy.

With one hand still wrapped around your throat, Turpin used his free hand to guide yours to his cock, urging you to stroke him in time with his movements. You obeyed without hesitation, your fingers trembling with desire as you pleasured him with eager enthusiasm.

"That's it, my dear," Turpin murmured, his voice filled with satisfaction as he felt your hand working his shaft. "Stroke me just like that. You're such a good little slut for me."

You moaned in response, the filthy words sending waves of pleasure coursing through you as Turpin's cock filled you completely. With each thrust, each moan of pleasure, you knew that you belonged to him completely, body and soul, and that there was no escaping his grasp.

As Turpin approached the peak of his own pleasure, he leaned in close to your ear, his breath hot against your skin as he whispered his filthy desires.

"I'm going to come inside you, my dear," Turpin growled, his voice laced with possessive desire. "And you're going to take every last drop, like a good little whore."

You whimpered in response, your body trembling with anticipation as Turpin's cock pounded into you with increasing ferocity. And as he finally reached the brink of ecstasy, you felt him explode inside you, his hot seed filling you to the brim as he claimed you as his own once more.

You cried out in pleasure as you felt the warmth of his release, your own orgasm crashing over you in waves as you surrendered to the pleasure of his touch. And as you lay there in his arms, spent and satisfied, you knew that there was no escaping the clutches of the man who had claimed you as his own.

Turpin held you close, his grip on your throat loosening as he pressed kisses against your skin, his touch surprisingly gentle despite his usual cruelty. He pulled out of you, slipping out with a wet sound before releasing you, letting you fall limply to the floor as he stood up, quickly changing into his normal suit.

You stayed on the floor, catching your breath, feeling a mix of physical and emotional exhaustion. When Turpin realized this, he ordered you to get up and compose yourself.

"Get up," he commanded sharply, his voice cutting through the silence of the dressing room.

You obeyed, slowly getting to your feet and smoothing down your crumpled skirts. You picked up your underwear from the floor, putting them on quickly before watching Turpin tie his tie in front of the full-length mirror. You stood next to him, the silence between you thick with unspoken tension.

As he adjusted his tie, you surprised him by stepping closer and hugging him from behind. It took him by surprise; in the two weeks you had been married, you had never initiated such a gesture. He stiffened slightly under your touch, his back straightening as he glanced at you through the reflection in the mirror.

"What are you doing?" Turpin asked sharply, his voice laced with suspicion.

You didn't let go, your cheek pressed against his back as you murmured softly, "I don't know. I just felt like it."

Turpin remained rigid for a moment, seemingly caught off guard by your unexpected action. His demeanor softened ever so slightly, though his voice retained its edge. "Don't be foolish," he replied gruffly, but he didn't shrug you off. Instead, he allowed you to hold onto him as he continued to adjust his tie.

You stayed like that for a few moments longer, feeling the tension between you begin to ease, if only slightly. Turpin didn't push you away, allowing you to draw comfort from the embrace, however fleeting it might be.

When he finished with his tie, Turpin gently extricated himself from your embrace and turned to face you, his expression unreadable. "Compose yourself," he ordered again, though his voice lacked its usual harshness.

You nodded silently, smoothing your hands over your skirts once more, trying to regain some sense of composure. Turpin watched you for a moment longer before turning away, dismissing the moment as quickly as it had come.

As he walked toward the dressing room door, you followed suit, feeling a mix of confusion and relief. The encounter had been brief, but for a moment, you had glimpsed a different side of Richard Turpin, a side that was not solely driven by cruelty and control.

You knew that such moments would be rare, but in that brief embrace, you had found a glimmer of hope that perhaps, in time, there could be more to your marriage than fear and domination.

Turpin opened the door and gestured for you to exit first, his demeanor reverting to its usual sternness. You stepped out into the shop, feeling a renewed resolve to navigate this new life, however uncertain and terrifying it might be.

As you left the shop together, you glanced at Turpin out of the corner of your eye, wondering what lay ahead for you both. The streets of London stretched out before you, a maze of possibility and danger, and as you walked beside your husband, you knew that you would have to tread carefully to survive.

But for now, you clung to the fleeting comfort of that brief embrace, hoping that it might signal a change, however small, in the harsh reality of your life with Richard Turpin.

[whore4abby]

heyyyy vannyyyyyy i love u sm i promise i'm not being a lurker

what abt model reader and abby at like a designers party (yk the devil wears prada 👀)

i'm too obsessed with everything u write is there like a support group or something for whore4abby addicts

ferny fern ur brain !! this idea is so yummy 😵‍💫 i love u MORE !! thank u for this hope u don’t mind me switching it up a lil mwah mwah !! NO ONE would join that damn support group bffr wrote this at 3am let’s not talk abt it

high fashion;

kinda a part two of this !!

warnings; smut - sex in a public bathroom, strap-on usage (r!receiving), choking (with abby’s tie), mdni

wc; 1.7k

“abs…c’mon, baby…we gotta leave in a few minutes.” you call out to your wife who’s spent the last 30 minutes making sure she looks absolutely perfect, not one hair out of place in her braid, making sure her new tux was absolutely spotless.

“i’m coming, doll…gimme a minute.” she calls out softly and you laugh and roll your eyes playfully at her antics. the ongoing joke that she spends way more time getting ready than you do slowly but surely starting to become a reality.

you smooth out the fabric of your almost sheer, black satin dress and slip on your jimmy choo heels, grabbing your purse from the dresser before looking up just as abby walks out from the bathroom. you swear you feel your eyes turn into little heart shapes as you see her.

she looks nothing short of absolutely perfect in her sleek, tailored black tux paired with her shiny black dress shoes, her muscular forearms filling out the sleeves of her suit jacket and her long hair slicked back from her face. you're absolutely smitten as you rush over to press your lips against hers repeatedly, “god, you’re so pretty…” you sigh, words coming out as a breathless whisper as you press your face against her chest, closing your eyes and breathing in her familiar scent.

before you know it you’re gathered in a spacious studio for a small, intimate gathering of some couture designers to showcase their new up-coming works. you’re surrounded by mannequins displaying gorgeous designer clothes, along with an assortment of clothes scattered around the room, from elegant ballgowns to sophisticated suit jackets.

the windows are covered in velvet drapes, allowing a small amount of natural moonlight to flood the room. everyone whispering discreetly amongst themselves, scanning the surroundings and taking in all the lavish clothing and glittering accessories.

you wander off away from abby for a little while, you’re quietly minding your own business checking out some artist sketches that are carefully hung up on the wall when you feel a presence beside you. “beautiful aren’t they?” a heavily accented voice causes you to look away from the framed pictures and you turn your head to see a familiar italian designer.

“yeah…they’re gorgeous! are they for the new spring-summer collection?” you query, you head tilting curiously in his direction. “yes, that’s correct…these pieces should be out within the next couple of months.” he smirks and leans in closer to you.

“i was actually just thinking about you.” he places a hand on your shoulder and you resist the urge to shudder in disgust. “oh, please…i’m not that special.” you force a stiff laugh and shake your head, after all this time you still find it hard to believe that you have become a well-known, household named model.

“im serious! i saw you at that runway show a couple weeks ago…and let me say, it’s been driving me crazy ever since. ive been dying to get in contact with you-“ he chuckles, his gaze drifting down towards you body. he takes your hand in his, a cunning smile spreading wide as he leans in to kiss your cheek. you shake his hand curtly before pulling your hand back and jerking your face away from him.

he continues to flirt with you, his eyes finding yours and locking onto them. “perhaps you’d be interesting in catching a drink tonight?” he looks down at your shoulder and casually caresses it with his hand. “my hotel is just a couple blocks away, and i know you’re staying in the city the whole weekend. so whatdya say?”

you start purposely clinking your perfectly polished wedding ring against your half empty champagne glass, hoping he gets the hint. “i’ll actually be busy with my wife….in our own hotel room, thank you very much.”

you catch a glimpse of abby across the room, she instantly feels a pang of jealousy as she watches him openly flirt with her girl practically right in front of her face.

her brow begins to furrow and she discreetly ends the conversation she’s having and makes her way over to you, she obviously saw the guy kiss you, and she’s clearly not happy about it.

you watch his smile falter a little at the mention of your wife, and he directs his gaze towards abby as she approaches, obviously intimidated by her height and stature. “everything okay, my love?” she asks, her eyes still watching the designer. you lean in to kiss her briefly before pulling away and nodding, wrapping your arm around her bicep.

he finally gets the hint and laughs, taking a step or two back. “hmm, well isn’t that a shame?” he says with a grin. he turns to walk away, before stopping and turning back to face you. “well if you ever want to get in touch, here’s my card.” he holds out a small business card with his details on it and smiles at you, abby quickly pushes his hand away and speaks in a passive-aggressive manner, “my wife and i won’t be needing that, thank you.”

he laughs cockily, obviously slightly amused before turning on his heel and walking off to probably shamelessly flirt with another married woman.

abby leans into you, resting her head against yours, taking the champagne flute out of your hand and placing it on a nearby silver side-table. her eyes still watching the designer as he saunters away. “i don’t like how he was looking at you, darling.”

you roll your eyes at her comment, giggling slightly. “babe, calm down,” you say, squeezing her hand. you look over at her and smirk at her. “but you’re really the only one who i’ve got my eyes on, okay?”

“you’re mine…all fuckin mine~” her voice is rough, and she still can’t shake her jealousy from that designer looking at you. abby leans in and kisses you on the neck, her lips gently sucking and nibbling at the sensitive skin.

abby smiles wickedly at you, before grabbing you by the hand and quickly dragging you to the back of the boutique. you find yourself in a fancy, private bathroom and abby quickly locks the door behind you. she pulls you in for a heated kiss and you can feel her firm body pressing against yours.

abby’s tongue gently plays against yours, her hands caressing your face and your body, slowly pulling you closer to her. she bites down on your bottom lip slightly, but not hard enough to hurt you.

she pulls away for a second before diving back in, kissing you passionately and with more force than before. “all mine~” she whispers in your ear, her breath hot on your neck, her fingers finding their way down to hike your dress up over you ass, bending you over in the sink counter.

you hear the zipper of her pants being yanked down and the rusting of her shirt being untucked before she pulls your panties off your body and discards them onto the floor before nudging your legs apart with her knee.

you whine as she swipes the tip of the strap-on through your sticky folds, gathering up your slick before pressing the head of the dildo against your slit. “say it…tell me who's the only one who gets you this wet~” she pushes in slowly, groaning at the sight of your pussy greedily taking her cock. “you, abs…fuucck- only you!”

she thrusts herself fully inside without warning, all seven inches of black silicone right up to the hilt making you cry out, feeling every vein and ridge flush against the walls of your cunt. the stinging stretch causing your face to contort in a mixture of pleasure and pain as she pulls out until just the tip remains inside, then slams back in. she roughly manhandles you, slamming you back on her cock. “nnhhggg…a-abby~”

you hear her fumbling with something before you suddenly feel pressure around your throat, the silky material of her tie digs into your neck as she wraps it around your throat and yanks you back to make eye contact with her in the mirror. “look at me while im fucking you, yeah?” she growls through gritted teeth, her eyes dark and filled with jealousy fueled lust.

you’re gripping onto the marble counter so hard that your knuckles are starting to lose their colour, strangled moans leaving your lips, the perfectly applied lipstick now smudged around your mouth in messy splotches.

she drops the tie onto the counter and you gasp for some much needed air. she snakes her free hand down to rub at your clit lazily as she snaps her hips into yours at an eye-rolling pace. “a-abby! oohhh…my god…fuck…” the fingers of her unoccupied hand dig into your hip, holding you in place as she starts to pound into you relentlessly, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoing in the small bathroom.

she groans, picking up the pace, the friction from the harness against her clit making her moans grow louder and more desperate, hips grinding into you in-between thrusts as she chases her own release.

you thighs start to clench and shake as her pace picks up even more, leaving you gasping and grabbing at any surface you can find to ground yourself. “you feel that? only i can make you cum like this, yeah?” you’re babbling incoherently as the the head of her cock keeps bumping into that sweet spot until it has you letting out a loud pleading cry as you cum on her cock.

she keeps thrusting, prolonging your release as she helps you ride out your own orgasm, her thick fingers digging into your hips hard enough to bruise.

“fuuccckk~” she pants heavily, leaning forward to rest her head against your back, the harness still grinding against her clit and making her cum hard whilst still buried inside you.

she lets out a loud groan as she pulls out with a pop, looking down at the mess between your legs and the cum dripping from your clenching cunt. you turn back to face her and she brings your mouths together in a brief, heated kiss before pulling away and carefully helping you clean yourself up.

she tucks her strap-on back into her pants and neatens her tux up before picking up your discarded panties and shoving them into her pocket before holding her arm out for you to take. “c’mon, baby~” her chivalrous action a stark contrast to the way she just fucked you into oblivion not even five minutes ago.

you smile coyly, adjusting your dress and grabbing onto her forearm as she leads you out of the bathroom and back out into the main studio space, not even caring about the skeptical looks and the un-approving stares of the people around you.

an; model!reader has me in an absolute chokehold right now😵‍💫if u have any ideas for more PLSSS leave me a request !!!!

[idonotbitemythumbatyou]

After The Wire, when Odo says he's going to keep a closer eye on Garak, I like to think he bugs the tailor shop like he does Quark's bar. Two possibilities here:

Garak coincidentally places mannequins and item displays directly in front of them, and places his ambient shop music speakers in front of the audio devices rendering them all useless. Odo moves them. The process repeats.

Garak finds every bug, puts them in a box, places a bow on top, and leaves the box next to Odo's bucket in his quarters.

[nightlyrequiem]

Hello dere :3

small request b4 they close ‼️‼️ could we have some Valeria x designer reader? I think it would be tooth-rottingly sweet for Valeria to reluctantly try on everything her girlfriend makes -- from ballgowns to suits.

And designer reader fucking adores her, and constantly makes her fancy clothes, with colours perfectly, primmly picked out to match Valerias skintone, eyecolour, manicure, tattoos, and all.

Hello hello hello :3 Valeria would definitely try on whatever thing Reader has made at her request. She's this strong, brute of a woman but with you? Oh, she's just so soft. It helps that your designs are so well done too.

Also, much apologies for the wait 🫂

Designer!Reader x Valeria

Out of the two of you, you're definitely the more fashionable one. You can take one look at someone and already know what colour or style would suit them best. Valeria doesn't care all that much about matching patterns and colours and what goes best with her undertone. You do though. Valeria is your favourite person in the world and such a good model too.

You've made a few designs inspired by her. Pieces with little scorpion inspired details. Snake details. Any animal you can vaguely associate with her. You make Valeria try on every single one.

You like to make pieces based off of animals in general. Foxes, cats, moths, peacocks, swans. Those are Valeria's favourite to model for you. The peacock one in particular. There's something so special about seeing your eyes light up as you see your ideas in the flesh. Or rather, on flesh.

She acts like she doesn't like doing it, but secretly she enjoys how much you hype her up. She struts down the hallway of your shared home in elegant gowns and dresses and suits that she'd otherwise never wear. A part of her wishes she had more time or the safety to dress up but in her line of work she has to stay lowkey. The less attention the better.

I've heard bigger chested girls have a harder time finding dresses and tops that fit them properly. (I wouldn't know because I'm not even pushing a B cup. 👎) Now, it's no secret that Valeria's chest is on the bigger side. She's found quite a few tops and dresses that she loved in her size, only issue was, they didn't fit her chest right. So, you being her loving girlfriend with the ability to sew, tailors her clothes.

You tailor her pants too. Adding on extra pockets for her and secret sheathes for her weapons.

Back to designing. In your expert opinion, Valeria suits dark red and green the best. Most of the pieces you've made for her specifically heavily features those colours. Some are pink though, to pay respect to her favourite colour.

Valeria has let you dedicate an entire room to your hobby. Mannequins, shelves full of all kinds of fabrics, needles and pins, a sewing machine, an iron and ironing board. Valeria partially regrets that decision for the sheer amount of time you spend in it. Although it's great when she's too busy to be with you.

Valeria has one suit that you made her that she wears for every formal occasion. Never during a cartel meeting, because she simply doesn't respect anyone enough to dress up, but for dates or events. Dark red and tailored to perfection, severe lines to match her sharp attitude. You wish she'd wear some of the other things you've made but you can't bring yourself to complain when she looks that good. It's like she was born to wear that suit.