#Winter Hat & Womens shorts.

[womenofwrestlingfashion]

Winter Faux Fur Fluffy Bucket Hat in Burgundy from Major Wear (£19.99), Oversized Metal Square Sunglasses in Purple from Guess ($92), Crown Button Up (£90) & Leopard Skin Blazer (£250) from Claudio Lugli, Sexy Faux Leather Micro Short (sold in set with jacket - $49.99) from Fashion Nova & Beibr Boots from Guess (n/a)

[xertzspot32]

You will experience benefits as soon as you put on a Best Waist Trainer that is fitted properly and for the entire time you wear the garment. Your waist will have an hourglass shape, eradicating the muffin top and preventing your tummy from protruding. If you measure yourself, you can find that your waist is up to 4 inches smaller right away.

[hirsheyskisses]

im happy you're taking reqs! love your writing ❣️

could you write hcs for Law with a s/o who knits? or likes making clothing generally, and they make him clothes with hearts, jolly rogers (*´ω｀)

(plus if he wants attention he'd lay on their lap to take their attention from the fabrics to him)

tysm again!!

Knit My Heart.

TRAFALGAR LAW x READER

A/N: OK I don't knit, I crochet, so I am VERYYY UNFAMILIAR WITH THE TERMINOLOGY so I mostly avoided it, so I hope this is mostly accurate!

(Short Scenario)

♡ you have absolutely made their entire winter wardrobe. Jackets, puffy shirts, all of varying colors that compliement each individual member, with the inevitable Jolly Roger of the crew.

♡ law brought you on the crew part because of your skill with knit and fixing clothes, part because of a personal interest he'd gained after talking to you in your parents clothing shop for hours.

♡ to no surprise, you're his lover.

♡ he finds it fascinating how into your creations you can get, as if nothing else mattered in the world.

"You've been at it for hours.. your hands are gonna cramp."

Temporarily, the doctors voice had your attention. Kind eyes met his own as you'd reply, "'s okay! My hands feel fine, I know when to stop. I've even stayed hydrated," gesturing to the tea Penguin had insisted on bringing you every other hour. He sighed, shaking his head.

"Not the point," Law moved to sit beside you on your bed, a hand moving to your thigh, watching you work the yarn. He wasn't sure what you were making: it looked small, like a hat, and it was currently black with an oncoming white patch.

Just as quickly as he'd had your attention, you were back in your world of focus, needles dancing together with the yarn, humming softly.

For a long time, Law stayed there, watching you work your magic. He himself was currently wearing the cute little wrist warmers you'd made him when he'd grumbled about how cold his wrists were. They were white with the Jolly Roger, edges decorated with cute little hearts. He could see the hat coming to life. Law loved how each piece had his Jolly Roger, and he admired the love you put into each and every piece.

However.. Law didn't like how the pieces also stole your attention from him.

It was comical, actually. Never once jealous when you interacted with other men, never once jealous when other men hit on you, because Law knows he's the lucky man who has your heart. (He does however, step in when your safety appears to be in jeopardy.) He brushes off other women to seek you out in the crowds. Never jealous of your interactions with his crew-

- no, he's jealous of your hobby and a cake of yarn.

Law feels like an idiot but.. not much he can do about his feelings, except take matters into his own hands.

Slowly he kicks off his shoes, and positions himself comfortably on your bed before dropping his head in your lap.

"Hmm?" You glanced at him, lifting your work to see his face. Law clearly had a bit of a pout, but seeing your beautiful smile slowly turned his expression soft, lips tugging up as he raised a tattooed hand to cup your face, then let his finger trace down your jaw, your neck, before wrapping it around your body. "Nothin'. Just appreciating the view." The doctor responded, relishing your laugh as he traced his fingers up your side, "that tickles, Law!"

"I know." The former small grin widened a bit as he adjusted a bit to press his face into your stomach, and you clearly got the memo. Setting your project to the side, you reached down and snatched his hat, you plopped it on your head, the brim resting over your eyes.

"My hat now," you teased, and Law snorted, "looks better on ya anyways. ..just take care of it." He said that every time, visibly relaxing as your hand made its way to his hair and began to slowly massage his scalp,

"..if ya wanted attention.. ya could've just asked, Law."

[telekinetictrait]

What is beautiful is good and who is good will soon be beautiful. - Sappho of Lesbos

fuck it. higher class english woman from a jewish-italian family and her cornish childhood friend-turned-housemaid that slowly fell in love over the 1910s.

on a more personal note, i don't think i can describe the big old smile on my face when i saw the antique wheelchair from @lilis-palace and the accompanying poses. disability related cc is few and far between, and finding historical disability related cc is like finding a dolphin in the desert. disabled people have always been here, and will always be here.

we've existed throughout history! shanidar one was a neanderthal who had brain damage and possible paralysis, and is estimated to have lived to be between thirty-five and forty-five – pretty old for a neanderthal! disabled people show up often in medieval and biblical texts. the greek god hephaestus is famously described as "lame," "deformed," and/or "impaired". various disabled bodies are portrayed in ancient egyptian art. some people with developmental/learning disabilities were honored by western european courts in the renaissance and believed to be closer to god. closer to the time period portrayed in this post, rosa may billinghurst was known as the "cripple suffragette" and was involved in near constant rallying for women's rights. disabled people are overlooked in studies and perceptions of history for so many reasons; mistreatment, abuse, erasure, eugenics, different ways of categorizing and labelling disabilities, and simply being lost to time and translation. but we've always existed. for every iconic figure of disability history, there's hundreds more who simply existed and had their lives forgotten.

there's names you know like helen keller, frida kahlo, franklin d. roosevelt, and names you don't. if anything i've said at all has interested you, here are a few more notable disabled people from history and modernity to research if you'd like: brad lomex, wilma mankiller, niccolò paganini, ivar the boneless, and barbara jordan.

cc used under the cut! (if it's not linked, it's from the game)

see my resources page!

all/multiple - lilis-palace's antique wheelchair + poses / rheallsim's fancy hairline / mlys' sibel rolled updo / the-melancholy-maiden's edwardian bandeau / citrlet's ivy freckles / plumbobteasociety's fancy fascinator hat / waxesnostalgic's toque hats / blueraptorsden's vintage stockings / satterlly's elizabeth boots / waxesnostalgic's edwardian heel pumps / xldkx-cc's rogue brogues

everyday - linzlu's hattie dress (download link) / sokea-cc's sweater dress

going out - dzifa's holmes dress / dancemachinetrait's priscilla set

wartime - waxesnostalgic's female war worker uniform / waxesnostalgic's v.a.d. headwear / satterlly's v.a.d. nurse uniform

formal - madameriasims4's laurel wreath headpiece / satterlly's silk dress / simlaughlove's alyssum succulents / retro-pixels astor dress

athletic - vintagesimstress's 1897 cycling hat / waxesnostalgic's armistice blouse / waxesnostalgic's female knickerbockers / waxesnostalgic's open collar blouse

sleep - vintagesimstress's 1893 aesthetic dress / sunivaa's lola dress

party - simverses's hat with plume, bow, and roses conversion / historicalsimslife's tea in the garden dress / pinkpatchy's sunless walks hat / twentiethcenturysims' fern dress

swim - linzlu's bathing belle swimsuit / eirflower's bain de soliel bathing shoes / lollaleeloosstuff's historical swimwear

summer - happylifesims' 1910's day dress #1 / waxesnostalgic's open collar blouse (short sleeves) + 1919 skirt (i think) / twentiethcenturysims golden ring accessory

winter - simverse's edwardian tapestry coat conversion / waxesnostalgic's cloche hat / linzlu's florence outerwear (download link)

thank you to @lilis-palace @rheallsim @mlyssimblr @the-melancholy-maiden @citrlet @waxesnostalgic @blueraptorsden @satterlly @xldkx-cc @linzlu @antiquatedplumbobs @sokea-cc @dzifasims @dancemachinetrait @madameriasims4 @simlaughlove @losts4cc @vintagesimstress @sunivaa @simverses @pinkpatchy @twentiethcenturysims @eirflower and @happylifesimsreblogs !!!

[kani-miso]

short analysis on es' 4th anniversary art

i do not play around when talking about es milgram

es' kimono

es is using a black kimono. before analyzing the colors, let's talk about the history of kimonos color combination first.

short history of kimonos color combination

the first form of kimono worn in the court society was called junihitoe, which refers to a set of clothes that consist of numerous layers of robes and coats. the color combination of layers shown around the sleeves determine the level of sophistication and rank of the person wearing it.

now, let's talk about the colors

black : the black color is often used in japanese kimono to represent power and elegance. the black fabric of a kimono is often used to represent femininity and beauty in japan. the color's deep shade was originally created as an alternative for cherry blossom flowers, which were not available during winter months (source). despite es having a more masculine outlook most of the times(assertive behavior and social dominance) ,there's alot of stereotypical feminine mannerisms that balance it out, such as : crossing their legs and putting their hand inwards (from undercover), politeness (their pose in the 4th anni art), and their long sleeves on their kimono (does this even count as a mannerism, i just wanted to point it because women usually wear longer sleeves when using a kimono). es is so gender

gold : the gold color is often used in japanese kimono to make a rich symphony of colors. gold represents wealth, luxury and prosperity and evokes feelings of grandeur and sophistication . gold can also represent love.

kimono length

their kimono is a standard one. their kimono is considered very formal kimono, a black silk kimono worn over a white under-kimono and hakama (although es is not using a hakama). their sleeves can be considered long. long sleeves on a kimono are usually used to ward off evil.

sash

their sash (previously from their robe) is placed on their left shoulder and elbow. its color is gold, the gold is a pale and muted gold .the sash on the shoulder seems to have one of those restraints on the prisoner outfits

obi

man that obi is pretty long.

the kimono sash, an obi, is a traditional japanese belt that holds great significance in japanese culture. beyond securing a kimono, the obi represents a beautiful fusion of art, craftsmanship, and history.

es' obi is a black obi with additional gold(?) patterns. es' obi is probably the men's obi belt because their obi belt is using a dark color which is black with a plain pattern. although, their obi belts size does not correspond with the men's obi belt. men's obi belt (kaku obi) are usually narrow, es' obi is wide. wide obi's are usually worn by women.

also, the obi pattern kind of looks like kotoko's warden hat in deepcover!

es' overall color scheme

i'm pretty sure es' color scheme is colder than the others

it can mean 2 things: personality-wise or physical status

personality-wise : a cold person, often characterized by specific cold personality traits, is someone perceived as emotionally distant and unexpressive. they usually come across as detached, exhibiting an indifference to social interactions and the emotions of others, a hallmark of what some might label a cold-hearted person. es isn't exactly a cold person, it's just to make them seem professional.

physical status : when your body grows cold and becomes pale-ish, that means you're in the process of dying, not sure if this is important at all (maybe to the 'victim amalgamation' theory or the 'everyone's dead' theory).

[whencyclopedia]

Interview: French Fashion during the German Occupation (1940-1944)

In 2024, France is celebrating the 80th anniversary of the Liberation (1944), and as part of a series of conferences organised by the Société archéologique et historique de Beaugency, Catherine Join-Dieterle, Doctor in History of Art and General Curator of Cultural Heritage, gave a fascinating talk titled Fashion in France under the German Occupation. In this exclusive interview, Ms Join-Dieterle talks more on this subject to Babeth Étiève-Cartwright, revealing a subject that really is a lot less frivolous than it seems.

Dimanches de la femme, 24 April 1938

Dorvyne - Bibliothèque nationale de France (Public Domain)

BEC: Catherine Join-Dieterle, on behalf of World History Encyclopedia, I would like to thank you for agreeing to conduct this interview. When we hear about the German Occupation, we conjure up images that are far removed from the world of fashion and yet, fashion being a reflection of society, it played a sizeable role in those difficult years. Could you start by giving us some examples of how fashion evolved in France in the 1930s?

CJD: At the dawn of the 1930s, fashion had abandoned the short dress that had so marked the Roaring Twenties. Dresses and coats now reached mid-calf and the feminine figure, which had previously been suppressed, was now emphasised. Long, flowing dresses were worn in the evening, while suits and ensembles emphasised the waist. However, as the sound of boots grew more insistent, some designs were influenced by army outfits, with square shoulders, shako-inspired hats and the use of khaki. But there was also a much more optimistic trend, with designers such as Elsa Schiaparelli (1890-1973) and Christian Dior (1905-1957) proposing much more romantic and even surrealist outfits, influenced by artists such as Salvador Dali (1904-1989). We then saw the emergence of the shoe hat and fuller long dresses with vaporous sleeves were the order of the day.

BEC: So, what happened once the German Occupation was firmly established? The new political reality of course had many dramatic consequences on the lives of the French people, but what about fashion?

CJD: The German Occupation had many repercussions on fashion in France because of the conditions imposed on the French people. The occupying forces decided to take three-quarters of the country's production, so the French had to make do with what the Germans would be willing to let them have. Rationing was introduced, and the French were obliged to use ration coupons to buy supplies, including clothes. For example, this is what a woman was entitled to at the time:

two dresses

two aprons or blouses

one mackintosh

two pairs of winter gloves

one winter coat

three blouses

two overalls

three pairs of underpants

six pairs of stockings

six handkerchiefs

one pair of flat shoes (which had to last four years).

Fashion Poster, Costumes-Manteau, 1941

Nordiska museet (Public Domain)

Most women turned to sewing, their own resourcefulness (taking old jumpers apart), upcycling (believe it or not, this is not a recent innovation), and even the black market. With certain materials being extremely difficult to find (leather, for example), French creativity adapted by using new materials: wood for shoes, rayon (a textile fibre made from wood cellulose) for clothes and parachute fabric, which is extremely strong, to make men's shirts. Old fabrics lying around in stocks or attics were also reused (the tartan so popular in previous years made a remarkable comeback), and many outfits were in fact made up of different types of elegantly coordinated fabric.

From a stylistic point of view, fashion had to follow a new path; models became utilitarian, strict and responded to the harshness of living conditions. Outfits were therefore warmer (it was difficult to keep warm, and winters were particularly cold), quilted with cotton wool and more innovative to cope with scarcity. As it was difficult, if not impossible, to obtain leather, handbags became rare and we then saw the emergence of large pockets that made it possible to do without them. These could be sewn directly onto the garment or added using a separate belt. There was also a need for all-purpose clothing that could be used in all circumstances, and so the suit made its appearance, with a shorter skirt and a slit at the front to make it easier to ride a bicycle (petrol being a rare commodity, the bicycle experienced a remarkable boom at that time).

BEC: What about men's fashion?

CJD: There were also a lot of restrictions imposed on men. In 1942, suits and overcoats were no longer allowed to have gussets, box pleats or half-belts, and double-breasted waistcoats and knickerbockers were banned. Trousers were allowed only one pocket, and trouser cuffs were absolutely forbidden. All this to save fabric. Boys were no longer allowed to wear sailor collars and were obliged to wear short trousers until the age of 15.

1940s Utility Fashion

Laura Loveday (CC BY-NC-SA)

BEC: All repression eventually has a reaction. Did the French rebel against these rules? Knowing the contesting nature of the French people, I can't bring myself to believe that they accepted all this without batting an eyelid!

CJD: Definitely! The French were quick to get round the rules! You can only buy one pair of flat shoes every four years? Whatever! We'll make wooden shoes with platform soles! Can't find stockings in the shops? No problem, women could resort to stitching or dyeing their legs with walnut oil (not forgetting the thin black line for the seam) ... there were even ready-made kits for this. Large bags were theoretically forbidden; however, carrier bags (some made from the superb cashmere scarves so many had inherited) were worn across the shoulders, very useful for stuffing products bought in shops whenever supplies came in, and if possible, double-bottomed bags, so that documents or other secret messages could be safely transported.

Fashion would also become a means of taunting the occupying Germans as well as a means of propaganda: hats, even though banned, would rise, to keep heads held high, patterns of blue, white and red fabric with words or slogans like travail, famille, patrie ("work, family, homeland") here and there for good measure, buttons in the shape of patriotic Gallic roosters. And then there were the zazous. This French term was used to describe those young people who had "an immoderate passion for American jazz music and who made a name for themselves with their eccentric dress" (Trésor de la langue française informatisé). It was, in fact, an international movement (they were called ‘zooters’ in the United States). The young men would wear baggy trousers (in the face of restrictions on fabric), wear their hair medium-length in reaction to short military haircuts, and the girls, who wore excessive make-up, would have short skirts and puffy hairdos. Needless to say, these young people were frowned upon by Marshal Pétain's moralistic regime!

BEC: So far, we've mainly talked about everyday fashion, the fashion of ordinary people. What about haute couture? Did designers have the right to work in their ateliers, but above all did they have the necessary means to do so?

CJD: Unfortunately, at the start of the Occupation, some major fashion houses had to close down, such as Vionnet (1876-1975) and Schiaparelli. Chanel (1883-1971) moved to the South of France before closing her house too. Young designers who had not yet opened their own houses, such as Pierre Balmain (1914-1982) and Christian Dior, were drafted in. From 1941 onwards, however, there was a resurgence of haute couture work, and French excellence became perceived by many as a form of resistance. Haute couture was also a key sector for the French economy because of the number of people involved. France was providing fashionable outfits for the beautiful ladies of the whole world! People bought their clothes in Paris or copied Parisian models! Unfortunately, shortages and bans made it impossible to publish photos of models in magazines, so we had to resort to illustrations in fashion magazines such as Mode du Jour, Silhouettes, and Marie-Claire.

Post-WWII Paris Fashion Doll Display, Maryhill Museum

Glen Bledsoe (CC BY)

However, if there is one name to remember in connection with haute couture during the German Occupation, it is that of Lucien Lelong (1889-1958), president of the Chambre syndicale de la haute couture (Haute Couture Trade Union Chamber), who did everything in his power to prevent the Germans from moving this economic sector to Germany. At the end of the war, to ensure that France regained its position as champion of fashion, Lelong and Robert Ricci (1905-1988, co-founder of the Fashion house Nina Ricci) initiated a travelling exhibition of miniature mannequins (70 cm or 27.5 in high) dressed by the top designers. This ‘theatre of fashion’ would travel the world for a whole year, signalling the return of French stylists and proving that, thanks to the incredible talent of many artists, French haute couture still deserved its place at the top of the international fashion league.

BEC: Of course, much more could be said on this subject, including the infamous yellow star imposed on French Jews, some of the designers who publicly flaunted their support for the German occupiers, and Coco Chanel's controversial stance, but perhaps all that will be the subject of a future conversation.

Thank you, Ms Join-Dieterle, for sharing your expertise with our readers. It is a fascinating topic and we are very grateful to you for providing us with the opportunity to learn so much about French fashion during the German Occupation. On behalf of everyone at World History Encyclopedia and our readers, thank you again for your valuable contribution.

Catherine Join-Dieterle has a doctorate in History of Art and is General Curator of Cultural Heritage. A leading fashion specialist, she was head of the Objets d'Art department at the Petit Palais from 1974 to 1988 and was later appointed Director of the Palais Galliera - Musée de la Mode de la Ville de Paris from 1989 to 2010. She has curated numerous exhibitions devoted to fashion, including ‘Robes du soir’ (1990), ‘Givenchy’ (1991), and ‘Marlene Dietrich’ (2003), among many others.

Continue reading...

[set-phasers-to-whump]

sun, sand, & something rather special

prompt: sunburn

whumpee: illya kuryakin

fandom: the man from uncle

hiii here's me beating my beloved illya up again <3 this fic is quite low stakes and soft, i hope you enjoy it!

Gaby kind of loves this mission. It’s the dead of winter back in London, but here in Australia it’s the high days of summer. It’s sunny, hot, perfect. 

It doesn’t hurt that her cover involves sleeping in until noon and lounging on the beach during the day, soaking up the sun and developing her tan—she just knows Napoleon will seethe with jealousy when he sees her next week. 

Her nights are far more interesting, though. Creeping through the sleepy beach town’s side streets and back alleys, planting bugs, disabling vehicles. Sleepy beach towns can be deceptive, all sunshine and swimsuits on the outside and rotten on the inside. She loves exploring both sides. 

She rather thinks Illya has gotten the short end of the stick. Her ‘brother’ spends his days visiting every single local establishment in town, observing the people, and then driving to nearby towns and doing more of the same. He could have real fun with this, Gaby thinks. Bars number high on the list of things to do in this place, and there are a couple of clubs she’s found excuses to stop into on the hot nights. Not that Illya’s exactly the type. 

It’s their fourth day. Gaby wakes a little after noon. Illya, of course, is long gone. His days start early and end late. They hardly ever see each other, which Gaby thinks is the one downside of this all. 

She gets herself ready for the beach slowly, dons a wide-brimmed hat, throws a towel over her shoulder, tucks a book under her arm. 

She lies on the warm sand for hours. Makes small talk with the women staying two houses down. Watches a group of children play football in the distance. Wades knee-deep into the water. 

She returns to the house at dinnertime and discovers that she is not alone. 

For a second, she’s on high alert, but just as quickly as the worry had hit her, it’s gone. 

It’s only Illya. 

“You are back early,” she observes. He is sitting on the couch, back to her, and his shirt (long-sleeved, the maniac) is soaked through with sweat. “Was the air conditioning not working?”

“I was outside.”

“Why?” Thus far, she knows he’s been spending practically all of his time inside, as is the nature of most local establishments to be located indoors. A tragedy, she thinks, in this beautiful weather. 

“Was a festival in next town. I needed to investigate.”

If it were anyone else saying this, she’d take investigate to mean enjoy myself. But it’s Illya. The thought of enjoying himself probably wouldn’t have even crossed his mind. 

Still, she asks, “was it fun?” as she moves into the living room to sit beside him. 

And then stops short. Clearly, it had not been much fun. 

His face is red, especially the skin below his eyes and across his nose. The tips of his ears, too. And his forearms, where he’d at least had the sense to roll up his sleeves to stop himself from boiling to death. 

His face gets redder as she continues to look at him. Part of her wants to laugh. Another part of her just wants to help. 

“You’re a bit…red,” she says, smiling. Her Russian partner, sunburned—it’s a little funny, is all. 

He turns his face away. “It was stupid,” he mumbles. “I did not…”

But whatever he did not do, he doesn’t say. 

Gaby makes up her mind. She’s half convinced he’s going to be upset with her for this, refuse, tell her it’s nothing. But the sunburn looks painful, and she doubts that Illya’s had much experience with such things. 

There’s a bottle of aloe vera beneath the sink in the bathroom, presumably a staple in houses around here. She grabs it, then stops in the kitchen for a glass of ice water. 

Illya eyes her skeptically when she returns. 

“What’s that,” he says, more statement than question. 

“Water,” she replies, pushing the glass into his hands. 

He makes a face—I know you know that’s not what I meant—but takes the glass, drinks. He briefly touches it to his face, quickly enough to make it seem accidental, but Gaby would bet money it’s not. 

“Does it hurt?”

He shakes his head. “Only a burn. And I was stupid.”

“That was not the question.”

He shrugs, which she takes as a yes. “My own fault.”

She sighs, doesn’t bother responding. She knows she can’t convince him that he’s allowed to be hurting, even if the cause is something minor, something stupid, something preventable. Injuries hurt no matter their cause. 

Instead of a reply, she simply opens the bottle of aloe, squeezes some into her hands. 

“Hold still,” she says, and before Illya can protest she’s carefully rubbing the ointment onto his burnt face. 

He stiffens up, and she thinks he is going to pull away, stand up and leave. Go wallow in his misery by himself. 

She’ll let him, if that’s what he really wants. But until he gets up, she’s going to keep doing her best to help. 

And so she continues her medical ministrations, running gentle thumbs beneath his eyes, across the bridge of his nose. 

And Illya relaxes. Softens. He leans forward, ever so slightly, into her hands, as she continues to work the ointment into his skin. 

She has been given something rather special, here. She feels it in the air between them, in the slow exhalations, the way Illya’s face presses into her palms. 

He trusts her with this. Of course, he trusts her in the field, trusts her to help stitch up a bullet wound, to drive a junker at top speed down a dirt road without losing control for a second. But this is different. More intimate. It’s something not strictly necessary. Sunburns are not exactly the kind of injuries they meet in the field on the regular. And mere ointment is rarely enough to help. 

She wants to show him, somehow, that she understands this trust. That she values it. Extends it back. But she doesn’t know how to do that. They don’t do this kind of thing, secret agents. They don’t trust like this. 

Except that they do. 

Gaby finishes up with the aloe, wipes her hands on the towel she’d earlier dropped to the floor. She sits beside Illya at long last. Keenly aware of the sticky aloe on his skin and the way it must still burn even underneath, she takes care not to touch him. Just sits nearby, steady, present. 

Illya shuts his eyes, leans his head back, and exhales. 

She thinks he understands what she means. 

thanks for reading! i hope you enjoyed <3

[asheepinthenight]

Hi Dani! I love Talon's End so much! I love the writing and Hawk and Shea and the Siblings and Isla and Erich and not so much mom, but I still love her and it's amazing.

Question: How would you describe the usual human clothing of the region? I'm trying to draw my MC (helps with getting to know the character) and I'm not sure of what clothing she'd wear.

Thank you and take care! <3

That's a super good question! I got a little carried away, but hopefully this is at least kind of helpful!

TL;DR: Women mostly wear dresses; men mostly wear trousers. Regardless of gender, clothes tend to be light and loose in style without a lot of ornamentation. Currently though, elegant, ornamental hairstyles are in, and many people are growing their hair out to take advantage of that. Hair length isn't particularly culturally dictated or gendered. Clothing colors usually reflect the seasons' colors in nature, but only members of high society (like MC's family) are really expected to have whole ensembles of the "proper" colors. For those curious, robes aren't at all common due to their association with mages.

Details under the cut!

The area where MC and their family live is relatively diverse, so fashion there has been influenced by a variety of different cultures. Maressea is on the warmer side of temperate with a fair amount of precipitation, so during warm weather, clothes tend to be light and not have too many layers--but coats, jackets, and capes to ward off the rain are common. Even when it's warm, sleeves, trousers, and skirts are usually long, but they tend to be more loose and flowing. During the winter, heavier fabrics are a must, but the styles are relatively similar to warm-weather clothes. Colors are an important part of styling, though. The colors of an ensemble should generally match the colors seen in nature during a given season. This is obviously pretty expensive and, therefore, a thing people will be judged by if they're considered a member of Society. But in situations where no one could reasonably afford multiple dyed garments for every season, people still often use seasonal colors for ribbons, handkerchiefs, and other small items. Even among the nobility, garment patterns and shapes are often relatively simple since the mundane aspects of fabric arts were only revived in the last century. Those who had the knowledge to revive things like lace-making and detailed embroidery are highly sought after, and their services quite expensive.

Hats aren't a big thing--unless they're necessitated by weather--since elegant, complex hairstyles are having a moment (the vibe but not necessarily form of fancy wedding updos). Historically, there hasn't been a major tendency toward long or short hair, regardless of gender, but long hair is stylish due to greater options for the aforementioned elegant hairstyles. (Not quite Hawk-length, though!) Hair accessories like ribbons, combs, and gemstones are common based on what a person has available to them.

Women are usually expected to wear dresses, and men are expected to wear trousers. But some avant garde women (including Sabine) have started wearing trousers at informal events (and formal events, if they're feeling extremely spicy). Some men have begun wearing dresses as well, but it hasn't taken off as much just yet. Robes are sometimes worn, but it's very rare since they're associated with being the garb of mages--not the most popular thing these days. So Hawk's gift had the double sin of being a robe AND not being a seasonally appropriate color.

[tropes-and-tales]

Mismatched

December 4:  Cider/Moon - Matchmaking gone wrong (Frankie Morales x F!reader)

(From the winter prompts found here)

CW:  Angsty nonsense.  The keywords of “cider” and “moon” are like Carmen Sandeigo—see if you can find ‘em.

Word Count:  1261

AN:  There is a sequel here!

AN2:  Requested by anon!

Molly’s the one who sets it up.  She and Tom throw a party each autumn, timed to hit the local college’s homecoming.  They do all the autumn stuff:  set up a bonfire in their backyard, stock the party with hearty tail-gating type fare like hard ciders and brats and hot wings.

But in addition to playing at gracious hostess, Molly appoints herself as matchmaker for the evening.  She knows someone, a friend of a friend, and she thinks Frankie would be perfect for her.

“I don’t know, Molly,” Frankie says.  He takes off his hat, runs his fingers through his hair nervously.  He just finalized his divorce a six months earlier, and it left him wrung out and empty.  He only gets to see his infant daughter on the weekends.  He lives in a shitty one bedroom apartment, and he’s putting in hours at the local car shop since his pilot’s license was suspended.  He goes to group once a week to try and beat his addiction.  

In short, he doesn’t feel like he has much to offer anyone.

Molly nudges him as she walks past to get more ice for the cooler of beers out on the back porch.  “C’mon, Frank,” she says with a winsome smile.  “I talked you up to her.”

Frankie glances at Molly, then slides his gaze over to Tom.  The man remains mute, but he does offer a slight shrug as if to say, “what can it hurt?”

It can hurt quite a bit, as it turns out.

-----

Halfway through the evening, you arrive.  Frankie and the guys are circled up near the bonfire, chatting about old Delta stories, when Molly waves over at them from across the yard.  When they stand and stare at her, she makes a frustrated face, points at Frankie, and waves him over specifically.

“Looks like your date’s arrived, Fish,” Pope says with a shit-eating grin.

“Good luck with that, bud,” Benny adds, and Will gives him a mock-salute.

Frankie sighs and tugs at his shirt, winces at the wrinkles there.  He swears it looked fine when he put it on that afternoon, but now it’s wrinkled.  Makes him look even less pulled-together.

“Walking the plank,” Tom says as he walks away, and he sighs again, grumbles that he should have stayed home.

-----

The problem is, Frankie likes you immediately.  

You have some spark, some…something that makes him perk up and take notice of you a little more closely as Molly introduces the two of you.  Your hand is soft in his as you shake it, and you give him a bright smile that feels genuine.

And for a while, the two of you chat.  It’s all the usual small talk bullshit:  talk of the weather, of how each of you know Molly and Tom, of your lives.  Frankie is out of practice with women, with dating, but he tries.  He asks more questions, and he listens more than he talks.  He makes eye contact; he smiles.  He offers you a fresh drink.

You tell him about yourself and he hedges his replies about his own life.  Of course he doesn’t tell you he’s a recovering addict, that he works a minimum wage job changing the oil in cars because he lost his license to fly.  He does admit that he’s divorced and has an infant daughter, and he has no reason to think you feel any sort of way about those facts—you tilt your head sympathetically, you smile at him.

For the first time since his marriage fell apart so spectacularly, Frankie feels the faintest bit of hope, like the thin margin of dawn appearing over the horizon.  He feels like he might not always be alone, like the darkness is about to break.

It makes it hurt that much more, when he accidentally overhears you talking to Molly later.

-----

He doesn’t mean to eavesdrop.  He doesn’t even mean to split up with you, but it happens naturally:  you go to use the restroom, he goes to get you each a fresh drink.

Frankie wanders outside and is intercepted by Pope, and the two chat underneath a bedroom window that is open a crack.  Of course neither of them notice it until they hear voices—yours and Molly’s.  

“No, you were right,” they hear you say.  “He’s good-looking.”

Pope snorts at that, but he slaps Frankie’s chest, and the man can’t help but stand a little straighter, push his shoulders back—

“But c’mon, Mol…divorced with a kid?  I’m not signing up for that.  No thanks.”

Just like that, his misplaced hope, the bit of pride at your first words about him…it all flees him.  He’s deflated, just like that.

“Aw, shit, Fish,” Pope starts to mutter, but Frankie waves him off with a pained smile.  

“It’s fine,” he lies.  “No worries.”

-----

Frankie Morales may be divorced, a single father, an addict.  He may live in a shitty apartment with modular furniture.  He may fall asleep each night with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, the deep-seeded fear that his life is on a long, slow skid into despair.  

But he’s not an asshole.

He plasters a smile on his face.  He gets you a drink and finds you, presses it into your hand, accepts your thanks and its accompanying smile.

He doesn’t make a scene of it, but he doesn’t want to wait for the polite brush-off, the kindly lie where you pretend to want to go on a date and then ghost him or blow him off later.

“I’m not feeling very well,” he tells you, and it’s not a lie.  He just wants to get home.  Wants to take as hot of a shower as his apartment’s bathroom can muster, and then collapse into bed.

You respond sympathetically and that hurts too.  Frankie guesses that you’re probably a good person—you just don’t want him and his situation—and he tries not to take it personally.

“Do you need anything?” you ask.  “Need me to call you a cab or something?”

“Nah.”  He glances around the room, sees Pope whispering to Tom, and he guesses that the moment might slip out of his control.  Tom likes to drink at these things, and Frankie can picture the man approaching you, getting too close to you and demanding to know what’s wrong with Fish, giving you off-color stories about Fish’s time in the service—

“I’m gonna head out,” Frankie says, turning back to you.  He offers you another smile and holds out his hand.  “It was really nice to meet you.  I enjoyed talking to you.”

You take his hand in yours, and Frankie swallows down the disappointment.  He hadn’t asked Molly for her matchmaking skills but it had seemed so promising all the same…up until it wasn’t.

He doesn’t wait for you to give him the brush-off or some flimsy promise to make future plans.  He gives you a final nod and smile and then he turns to leave.  

Outside in the front of the house, it’s dark.  All of the warmth is inside or in the backyard, where the bonfire roars and where the sounds of music and laughter ring in the night.  Frankie trudges to his old truck, a beat-down wreck just like him.

So much for the darkness about to break.  He sits in his truck for a moment and sighs.  There’s no thin margin of light on the horizon after all—just endless darkness save for the fingernail of a crescent moon hanging in the sky.

[silent-sanctum]

Hi, I hope you're doing well! Do you think you would be willing to write Jotaro with a partner who was cheated on in a previous relationship? (Only if you're alright with it)

Hello anon! Sorry if I just got to your request but there's actually a fic I'm planning to write that includes the prompt you sent, so I hope you won't feel like I've ignored or retconed your request ^^ However I do have a very short snippet of said fic that's really long in comparison to this that I'd like to offer as consolation~ Hope you enjoy~~

word count: 1k

“The snow’s pretty, right?”

It was sudden… but it wasn’t startling. What used to be just him staring back in the clear reflection now had someone else standing by it, the pure white-covered landscape beyond making both their mirrored faces a bit indistinguishable. He didn’t have to turn his head right to acknowledge the woman currently beside him.

Jotaro had no reason to respond and so he kept silent with an open ear. “Just the way little pieces of crystals would flutter down onto the ground to create a scenery as beautiful as these snow-capped terrains.”

Why is she telling me this? Still affixed on her reflection, the lady was someone already accustomed to this place. The simple cream yukata patterned with subtle floral imagery hugging her form was enough to tell him that. Next to her, he stood out like a sore thumb in his winter coat and hat.

And still, he remained wordless.

But with the way the woman didn’t comment on it, it seemed that she didn’t mind the lack of answers. “You must think this is weird for a random stranger to walk up to you suddenly talking about the beauty of nature.” Her reflection turned to him with a smile. “But it’s something I do ever since I booked my stay here.”

So she is a guest. Jotaro found it admirable from how calm she approached him, he would’ve thought she worked here as a hostess of sorts. “Men, women, non-binary, children, or the elderly… anyone really.”

“Why?” One word too late to realize he had spoke his thought out loud. It caught him off-guard when she made a little sound of surprise. Tucked in their pockets, his hands closed in on themselves.

She still smiled nevertheless. “I just like talking to people. I like getting to know how they’ve been and what goes on around them. It’s hard to enjoy simple stuff like that from where I’m working.” He nodded. Somewhere in the middle of her words, he had shied his gaze away from the glass and onto the floor instead.

“Oh, am I making you uncomfortable?”

Yes? No? He wasn’t so sure himself. Mindless conversations irritated him to a high degree, never finding the point of starting them when nothing productive or insightful came out of it. Jotaro had been the receiving end of such multiple times before so he knew when to leave.

But for some reason, he couldn’t classify her sentences as “mindless”. He did admire the intrinsic details of the winter environment and she did too. She answered questions he had and hadn’t asked and he appreciated the clarification.

It was something different. It made him curious.

Jotaro shook his head, finding some form of comfort in the tips of his shoes. It’s fine. Keep going. The woman chuckled. “You know. it’s okay to say that you are-

“I’m not.” 2 more words fled his mouth in an instant, so abrupt that even she got startled from it.

“My bad then mister,” she said with that sense of optimism intact. “It’s just that you weren’t replying back as much as I spoke, so I tend to catch my words before I end up rambling.” His mind drew a blank, not knowing what to say in return.

Jotaro nodded again. A reliable gesture of acknowledgment.

“Honestly, I like your silence.” He looked back to the reflection beside his on the glass. “Because even if you don’t say anything, you listen regardless. I’ve been with too many people who don’t and the world becomes deafening that others outside can’t hear me speak to begin with.”

He had his attention trained to this stranger, head angled so slightly towards her as he increasingly grew intrigued by her words. I know how that feels.

The woman gaped, caught in a moment of realization. “I’m sorry! I ended up rambling my thoughts.”

Another nod.

“Well it’s not like I’m going to hold you back any longer. You’ve yet to make yourself at home after all.” He furrowed his brows, turning to glance at her direction for a second to decipher what she meant, only to put two-and-two together when she stared at his current outfit.

I haven’t been to my room yet.

“Get comfy. I may be new too but I bet you’ll enjoy your stay here.” The woman was about to make her leave and out of the curiosity of his mind, Jotaro turned to look at her for the first time throughout their interaction.

And there she was, staring up at him with her ever-present shine.

In a second, Jotaro took in all of her appearance- dark brown locks done in a loose chignon. fair skin without a blemish to touch, the natural blush in her cheeks the same color as her full lips, deep shining irises that was so captivating that he couldn’t stare for long before it became too much, and the cherry blossom pin holding her hair together.

Unreal. It was almost uncanny.

This woman couldn’t be real.

Whether the preoccupation with his inner dialogue bothered her or not, she remained undeterred by his silence. Turning on her heels, she looked at him with a beaming smile and waved. “See you around!” To that, he watched her walk away with nothing to say back.

Jotaro was left alone to his devices just as it was mere minutes ago, still in his casual winter wear on the same spot he stood on. And yet one short conversation out of the blue felt like something around him shifted in the subtlest way possible.

And it took less than 5 minutes of a stranger’s time to spark that muffled sense of wonder in his brain.

What was it that she said? About wanting to know what goes on in the lives of others? The idea bore similarities to a minor mystery case he’d likely write about, more so when the subject was of the lady with the blossom pin.

If the world permitted it, by any means, he wouldn’t mind encountering her again.

“See you around…”

[xertzspot32]

Do you believe a packable jacket isn't fashionable despite its practicality? Think again. This style's adaptability, as well as its sensibility, make it beautiful. For any situation and attire, there are options.

[jackhues]

meet rowan (pricey shots and brick wolls au!)

rowan price, niece of nhl goaltender carey price, was born on october 24th, 1998 to carey price's older brother noah price (oc) and his wife of the time, anna price.

pre-rowan notes:

noah price is the older brother of carey price by ten years, making him 46 years old at the start of this au. he was born in vancouver, b.c., and began playing hockey since he could walk. he loved all positions, but he usually played forward. there were a few years where he had to play defense, and he was okay at it. because of that, he missed some of his developmental years, and wasn't good enough to be a professional hockey player (he was good at forward, he could play defense, but he didn't have anything he excelled that)

noah tried to be very present in his siblings' lives because he was much older than them and he was scared to miss out on their lives. carey looked up to him a lot growing up.

noah and anna met in high school, married soon after, and had rowan at around 21/22. she has three little brothers: jadon (2 years younger than her), harley (4 years younger than her), and riley (8 years younger than her).

rowan notes

rowan moved to montreal when she was really young, when her uncle began playing for montreal, because her dad decided to follow him there. they went back to b.c. for the summers, but she went to school in montreal and can speak french fluently.

she gets along very well with her uncle carey, he's about 11 years older than her. she grew up shooting pucks against him, which they both say made them better players (carey says she's an excellent shooter, and rowan says he's the best goalie)

she grew up playing center, and can play wing, but prefers center (she likes faceoffs). rowan became well known for being carey price's niece when she was around 10 years old. everyone thought she was going to be the next best goalie, until they realized she played center, which threw them for a loop.

but then her stats were released, and media began reporting the next greatest female hockey player. she was being compared to hayley wickenheiser, marie-philip poulin - even players like ovi, with the way her shot and quick release was. she kept her socials private (still has those accounts) and made specific public accounts to share with the public.

she went viral on tiktok, becoming a sort of influencer on instagram/tiktok by the time she was 20/21.

at 19 years old, she was invited to team canada's hockey camp for the pyeongchang 2018 winter olympics and made the roster as the youngest player on the team. she scored 8 goals in total, one hat-trick, and had four assists. she ended the olympics having the most points in the tournament, but team canada fell short to the u.s. in the finals.

after finishing high school, she began studying at uoft, playing for their women's hockey team. she was also playing professionally for the toronto furies for two years while studying because it was the only thing she could do. after the cwhl failed, when she was 20, she ended up signing a contract with the toronto six. she continued her studies at uoft and played for the varsity blues as well.

some said it was a lot of hockey, but rowan was scared to drop any of it - just in case women's hockey stopped being a thing one day.

she called her uncle a lot during that time, talking about her fears for her future in hockey. she put aside so many things to focus on hockey, and she wasn't even sure she would be able to play professionally forever.

the first year that joseph played for the toronto marlies, rowan was invited (along with some other players of the toronto six) to help with drills and practice. they had fun, going against each other and trying to outplay the other. after the practice session, she went to joe and was like "something about your play is so familiar, but i can't place it." and joe laughs, going, "well i modeled a lot of my play after carey price - everyone's seen him play." and rowan stares at him and just smiles bcz he has no idea how often she's seen carey price play.

and their story goes from there!

rowan was the first free agent to sign with pwhl toronto (before the draft). she was so excited that she was able to stay in the city that had recently become a home to her. and she's been going off ever since the season started.

she's pretty known, even outside of hockey (queen) - and joseph supports her all the time.

general au notes:

jadon, harley, and riley all play hockey, but none of them except riley are interested in going pro. jadon's actually an nba player for the new york knicks, and harley's in university for mechanical engineering (wants to work in f1). riley plays defense and he's 17 right now, entering his draft year this year. he's projected to go high in the draft.

rowan's best known for her clutch/pricey shots, which she almost never misses. she has a very good eye and is good at controlling the puck. she can get goals at the most needed moments - and even if it looks like it's complicated/coming at a pricey time, she's great at going through with it

rowan and joe practice against each other all the time, and riley joins them occasionally too

this exists in the same au as my other three main aus

THANK YOU to everyone who sent stuff in and helped me out, i love all of you <3 i wish i could make an au with every single idea you guys sent in because they were all amazing! sorry if i couldn't get your ideas, but i hope you know i appreciate all of you :))

[the-technicolor-whiscash]

People in Florida don’t know how to handle colder temperatures like ok it’s 59 degrees out right now. I’m in a sweatshirt and jeans and I’m doing fine. There are men in tshirts and shorts. There are women in full parkas. There’s a guy wearing a winter hat. Children are either in shorts or wearing gloves. It’s like ok am I on the beach or am I in Antarctica because none of you seem to be able to tell the difference.

[saintmeghanmarkle]

Decoding Meghans Whistler dress sense: distinctly heading Dagenham by u/Mickleborough

Decoding Meghan’s Whistler dress sense: distinctly heading Dagenham* Objective observations and conclusions drawn from Meghan’s 3 main appearances at Whistler.Day 1 - ‘…[W]hat’s a colour that [senior royals] will probably never wear…Camel? Beige? White?’: 2022 Netflix fauxcumentaryI thought I’d Yeti see the Abominable Snowman, but that Bigfoot on Meghan has Sasquatched that belief.- White, cream, beige, and brown are complementary - but not all in one look.- The accent navy beret doesn’t fit anywhere. Maybe not a good idea if you’ve got dark hair - it all looks like one.- No gloves, but it’s a cold day.- Jeans in a ski resort? Not even off the slopes - it simply won’t keep you warm. Not even with thermal underwear - denim’s the wrong look for snow.- Jewellery in winter’s not a good idea. Fingers might shrink from the cold, causing rings to fall off. Ditto stones. And metal’s a conductor. Day 2 - ‘…[W]hen you’re going through a stressful time, [this is reflected by] wearing things that are more monochrome or darker in tone’: 2015 interview with InStyleIn the navy / Come on be bold and make a stand - not spectacle.- Black and navy can be worn together, but maybe not more than one shade of each. Also, textures matter.- Navy leather gloves smacks of trying too hard. Navy leather gloves aren’t terribly common - trying to match leather gloves to scarf and beanie is a bit much. NB Gloves were removed - see above- £3,000 / $3,800 Hermès puffer jacket reeks of paying for the label. Hermès of course wouldn’t put their name to anything of low quality - but why pay that much for a generic black puffer jacket? If it had a characteristic Hermès design or distinctive chic - yes. You buy what the brand’s known for. Otherwise, what justifies the price, apart from the label? - Jeans in a ski resort - see above.- Brown boots jar in an already cacophonous combination of navy and black. - Bottega Veneta phone cover. Fashion victim - they’re whatever phone covers are made from, in the Bottega woven leather pattern (but not leather), made in China, costing about 4-5 times a good specialist cover. - Jewellery - as above.Day 3 - ‘Women are fighting greasy pots and pans…’: 1993 Ivory Clear dishwashing detergent ad, Procter & GambleSeal clapping 675 metres / 2,214 feet above sea level.- It‘s almost 2 colours - but not quite.- It’s cold, hence the long gloves. But why opera gloves (in a singularly unattractive colour)? Not right for a ski resort, - If Meghan’s arms were cold (so she needed long gloves) - why wear a jumper with 3/4 length sleeves? Meghan’s basically wearing a coat, the short-sleeved jumper, and opera gloves in some weird colour, all for a weirder look.- Riding boots - more likely, boots in the style of riding boots. Not all boots are the same - you can’t wear riding boots to places where you wear snow boots, because they’d look out of place. Horses tend not to go skiing. ConclusionMeghan’s fashion choices over the 3 days were increasingly worse: she went from mediocre to bizarre. Can it be a sign of mental illness? Or did snow blindness affect her vision?* On the London Underground, Dagenham is 3 stops past Barking - think ‘mad’. post link: https://ift.tt/Q74hDkL author: Mickleborough submitted: February 18, 2024 at 01:47AM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit

[onyxgabriel]

Knightly Discipline: DDD

[coffin dance]

Jaune, Winter, and Glynda sat patiently in a Bullhead headed to Vale. Jaune sat in between the two women with a very nervous look on his face.

Said women kept on giving him hungry glances a few times, even going far as to touch his thighs. He swore he heard them moan when they did, albeit quietly.

They have an entire hotel and a week all to themselves and these three are going to use it, even if the hotel has to be quarantined afterward...

They had to make excuses of course. For Jaune, it was a family emergency, for Winter, it was because she was being called back to Atlas by Ironwood, and for Glynda, she threatened Ozpin to get a week-worth of a vacation.

Oddly enough, all of them left at the same time on the same Bullhead headed to Vale...

When the Bullhead landed, they took a taxi to the hotel. When they got to their destination, Jaune knew his time was up, this is where he will die a death that will make every man jealous of him...

Glynda and Winter grabbed him by the arms and ran inside to get a room.

Day 1...

Glynda eagerly bounced on Jaune's dick making her entire body jiggle enticingly. She moaned happily and finally felt relief and pleasure after waiting an entire month.

Winter sat on Jaune's face grinding her clean-shaven cunt against his mouth. She gripped his hair tightly, making Jaune cringe from the pain.

Jaune thought that this was just the beginning...

Day 2...

Winter: Moo-oooo-ooo~!

Winter moo'd like a cow. She was wearing a cow-print bikini with a cow horn headband and a cow tail buttplug.

She was getting railed doggy style with her breasts flopping back and forth with milk leaking out. She took special meds, courtesy of her SDC connections to make her lactate without getting pregnant. Perfect for this roleplay.

Jaune grunted as he held onto Winter's wide hips, and gave her ass a meaty spank, leaving a red handprint on her ass. He also fiddled with buttplug.

Glynda embraced Jaune from behind, kissing his ear and neck and teasing his nipples. She was wearing a skimpy cowgirl costume, with a hat, a shirt tied across her large chest like a bra, and jean short shorts. Emphasis on 'short.'

Glynda: That's right cowboy, teach that cow her place~

And Jaune did just that. Giving a couple more thrusts, he hilts himself inside of Winter and hosed her insides with his cum.

Winter: MOOOOOOOOOOOOO-RE~!

Day 3...

Glynda and Winter gave Jaune a double paizuri, wearing skimpy maid costumes. Occasionally giving the tip a brief lick and a suck.

Jaune gripped the bedsheets tightly and let out a moan. They'd been going at for five minutes now, and he was getting close.

Feeling his dick twitch between their breasts, they moved faster.

Glynda: Go ahead master~ Paint your servants with your seed~

Winter: Cum cum cum cum~!

Jaune threw his head back and came like a geyser. Showering the two women in cum.

Winter gluttonously devoured her cum from her chest. She was the submissive and cum hungry of the two.

Glynda licked some cum off her fingers and moaned.

Glynda: Thank you for the meal master~!

She was tackled on the ground by Winter and the two made out, they moaned. Winter tried to steal some cum but Glynda wouldn't allow that.

Jaune watched the two make out hotly and soon grew hard again. HE approached the two women. Once he got their attention he stroked his shaft in front of them.

Jaune: Get on all fours. Now.

Glynda and Winter shuddered in delight. The two immediately got into position.

Glynda/Winter: Yes master~!/Yes daddy~!

Jaune and Glynda looked at Winter in confusion. Winter was equally confused.

Winter: What?

Day 4...

The three were in the hotel's sauna.

Jaune and Glynda made out lovingly while Jaune has his arm around her and groping her large breast.

They stopped when they heard someone clear their throat.

It was Winter pouting cutely, in Jaune's opinion, she was sitting on Jaune's other side.

Jaune chuckled at her and brought her in for a kiss. Winter sighed as she grew lost in the exchange. Jaune went further by slipping two fingers into her pussy, making her moan in the kiss. Her walls clamped down on his fingers.

The three of them made out as they relaxed.

Day 5...

Jaune held Glynda by her thighs and spread them apart while he sat down on a couch and hammered her from behind. Glynda reached her arms to hold his head so they could wrestle their tongues.

Winter kneeled in front of them and licked Jaune's shaft and Glynda's clit. She started touching herself as well.

Day 6...

Winter's tongue lolled out as she was getting railed by both Jaune and Glynda with a strap-on. She made out with Jaune while Glynda bit on her neck.

They went on for four more hours...

Day 7...

Jaune was tied to a chair while Winter, wearing a dominatrix outfit, rode him roughly. He also had a cock ring on him preventing his release. He was forced to motorboat Winter's chest.

Glynda: Winter, when you're done it's my turn~!

Jaune managed to get a look at Glynda. She was also wearing a dominatrix outfit. To Jaune's dread, she also has a strap-on on her.

Jaune: 'OH NOOOOOOO!'

After the week...

Jaune: looks like a dried-up raisin Hey guys...

Pyrrha: concerned What happened to you Jaune?

Jaune: Sisters were a handful. Imma go lie down now and sleep.

Pyrrha was suspicious, but she didn't press further. It was odd that he came back from his family emergency along with Professor Goodwitch AND Specialist Schnee at the same time.

Speaking of the two women, they were lounging in Glynda's office feeling much happier than before, which creeped everyone out.

Pyrrha: 'I'll get to the bottom of this!'

Uh oh, Pyrrha's getting suspicious~ Where will things go from here~?

Also Merry Christmas Everyone! Consider this my gift to you all! Also, I think I'm gonna get banned because of this...

Hehehe Yeah~!

[quaranmine]

Wait you’re from the South, right? As a Canadian, if you go somewhere Cold in February/March, please get yourself a good Winter coat. I’m talking a big puffy sweating-if-you-wear-it-indoors coat. Also a scarf, hat and mittens/gloves. You will need all of these. I like you and I don’t want you to become an icicle.

Yep, I'm southern. This is so sweet I appreciate you looking out for me because I have very little winter weather experience and a rather strong yolo tendency for wanting to go to cold places. It's the novelty of it I guess lmao

I have this jacket from REI:

https://www.rei.com/product/207877/rei-co-op-powderbound-insulated-jacket-womens

Which is a ski jacket, waterproof, and roomy enough for layering. It also has snaps to make sure it stays close to your body. But I truly don't know if it's actually insulated enough. In May I normally had two thin merino wool layers and then the jacket, and sometimes the jacket was too hot. I'd say the Iceland temps ranged 2C (coldest day) to 16 C at the highest, and normally when it was over like 12C is when I dropped the jacket because it was too hot. Unless the wind was howling.

So for even colder weather, assuming 2C (and below) is a good estimate, perhaps a thin merino base layer + thicker sweater + fleece + this jacket is enough? I genuinely would appreciate advice. Unfortunately good winter jackets are expensive (especially for something rarely usable in Texas) so I'd rather use the one I have but I also don't want to Die so

I also have a nice knit wool hat from Iceland, very warm. Some waterproof gloves that are so-so on warmth but won't get wet in rain/snow. And a fleece bib type scarf that I could pull to cover half my face and trap warmth. I would probably bring those handwarmers and feet warmers.

I have uhhh waterproof hiking boots (not winter insulated though) and rubber ice crampon thingies that can be pulled over them. Lots of wool hiking socks that range in thickness.

Bottom layer wise I can do merino leggings/long underwear + a pair of warmish waterproof snow hiking pants. Also have super thick fleece leggings. I've only got one pair of each of those though

I do not have a good cold tolerance though unfortunately 😔 I am very much one of those people who thinks it's cold at temperatures Northerners might wear shorts for. Which is why it's very amusing that I'm constantly like "I should go to the Arctic circle!