#faux pearl ring

[neiptune]

you can feel it on the way home

cw: 1k wc, female reader, childhood friends to lovers, atsumu is so lovesick it'll make you gag, just fluff fluff fluff. sponsored by @mangostarjam, thank you so so much for trusting me and contributing to @ficsforgaza!

Summers in Hyogo are hot, humid, made of sleepless nights and the quiet buzz of fans blowing air that is always too warm. They get sweeter, whenever Atsumu visits.

On his very first official trip as a member of the MSBY black jackals, you remember thinking Osaka didn’t know how lucky it was about to get. You also remember his blinding grin at the airport, the way he took off his black cap to push it on your head right as your bottom lip quivered, how he proudly showed off his good luck charm. You couldn’t believe he still had the stupid bracelet you made him when you were 10. ‘Samu got one too, because back then no one could befriend a Miya without necessarily befriending the other, but Atsumu’s bracelet had one extra clay charm and faux pearl beads that were colorful.

You’ve known each other your whole lives. You were 8 when your parents moved into a bigger residential neighborhood, their mom was the first one to ring the doorbell with a tray of freshly baked cookies. Two little boys standing on either side of her long skirt, pretty much identical, differentiated only by the snot still drying underneath the nose of the one with reddened eyes. Despite his miserable state (stemming from Osamu tripping him and deliberately making him face plant on a pile of dirt) the little boy still mustered the courage to ask for your name and whether you knew how to play hopscotch.   

Before they became the iconic freak duo, the twins were simply the biggest chunk of your childhood afternoons. While you did everything together, from going to the beach to consuming the slide at the playground a few blocks away from your house, ‘Tsumu was always the one to stay whenever Osamu would decide it was too hot or he was too bored and just wanted to go home. You could tell it felt weird for them to split up but Atsumu would forget his brother as soon as you offered to push him on the swing.

Then came high school and he no longer was the little crybaby you’d grown so fond of, the kid who’d refuse to let go of your hand while stomping around the nanko sports park at the sunflower festival his mother dragged the three of you to. Atsumu convinced himself he didn’t care anymore whether people liked him or not (whatever helped him sleep at night) and that you, along with his teammates, were the only friends he needed anyway. Neither of you cared that Aran, Rintaro and at some point even Osamu were convinced you were secretly dating, an assumption only the two of you knew wasn’t completely groundless.

At the age of 13, you decided you wanted to be each other’s first kiss. It was a perfect agreement: no chance of the memory ever being ruined, as you were going to stay best friends for life. Neither of you anticipated the second time you kissed him, right after he announced he was asked to attend the Ajinomoto youth training camp. Just a friendly peck before an even friendlier hug, to celebrate.

But there was nothing to celebrate after the game with Karasuno, was it? The Inarizaki High volleyball team members were the only ones not really enjoying the party thrown just for them, so you and a few others took it upon yourselves to make sure they did. Atsumu was already wasted before you could playfully suggest he’d drown his sorrows in a disgustingly sugary drink, glassy eyes set on your lips as you listed all the reasons why he should’ve been proud of himself, why you were so proud anyway and absolutely certain his star was soon going to shine the brightest not only in Tokyo but for the entire country to see. And then he just pulled you close, arms wrapping possessively around your waist, captured your lips in a real kiss that knocked the wind out of your lungs, made your legs unsteady.

Atsumu is away more than he is home but when he is back, Hyogo seems to glow. It’s 1 am and you stroll by streets that are dazzling, his presence alone enough to light up the neighborhood you grew up in, your fingers are interlaced with his rough ones and everything in the world feels right.

“You’re not listening” he lightly flicks your forehead and you flinch, snapping back to reality. The bench you’re sitting on next to each other is the same one you’d kill time on as teenagers, when neither of you wanted the night to end too soon.

“Sorry, I was just thinking...”

“That’s new”

“Shut up” you attempt to land a smack on his chest but he catches your hand and brings the knuckles to his lips with an infatuated smile.

“Just kiddin’, sugar. Penny for your thoughts?”

You fix him with a falsely annoyed stare.

“I just... never asked. When did you know? That you liked me, I mean”

Atsumu hums, pensively strokes his chin as he peers at the starry sky above. Always so theatrical.

“Right away. Ya looked so cute in those dungarees, hiding behind your dad, too scared to even say hello. I was sick of ‘Samu at that point and I really wanted a new friend” he smiles when you snort “always the kindest, smartest kid in every room. Scraped knees to prove ya could keep up with the boys, making sure no one ever felt left out. Grew up to be as beautiful as your heart is. You’re my best friend” he’s far from being a crybaby anymore but Atsumu still gets teary eyed fairly easily and it makes your heart flutter knowing that, sometimes, you get to be the reason.

“That’s sweet” you cup his cheek to wipe a tear from the corner of his eye, he takes advantage of the proximity to gently grab your chin and keep you there, presses his lips to yours in a chaste kiss that lingers a moment too long. Atsumu could get drunk on the way you smile, chase him as he pulls back to steal two more pecks.

“When did you know?” he asks, lips still grazing yours, big hands now holding your face and a thumb lazily tracing the curve of your cheek.

“Hmm... I had my suspicions when I felt more and more inclined to leave you the last bite of my mom’s cherry pie. I was sure when you started going out with that Kobayashi during freshman year and I tried to convince myself that I could like ‘Samu to make up for, well, you” he snorts out a laugh, half outraged, half amused. ‘Samu? Hilarious. As if.

“I was already in love when you left for Tokyo” you gently nudge the tip of his nose with yours.

“So was I. But it’s just” he shrugs “I never could tell for sure. Sunarin used to call me an idiot but I just never really knew”

“What? All those years, you really didn’t notice that I was falling in love with you?”

“Didn’t think I was your type”

You laugh at that, then melt into his embrace, rest your head on his shoulder when a strong arm is wrapped around you.

“Well, you’re my best friend” you murmur into his neck.

[yandere-wishes]

Yandere! Paul atreides x princess! Reader claiming us.... But literally claiming... Like... Kidnapping....

I'm going crazy.

☆★☆★☆★☆

Thinking about Emperor Paul Atreides sitting all high and mighty atop his galactic throne. With big scary Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen hovering behind him ready to kill on command. Now imagine poor little darling tide up at the foot of the throne. Captured and dethroned, a pretty prize for the two men who killed her father. Her chin ensnared between Paul's cruel fingers, forced to gaze upon her monstrous captures. Your crown lays shattered on the blood-red carpet, your dress ripped and ruined.

Funny how "princess" is just a word now, just a flurry of salt to marinate an open wound.

"Well princess, do you pledge allegiance to your new king?" Paul's words are all for show, he's being playful, trying to lighten a dull mood.

Loyalty or death.

You notice the knife twirling between Feyd's fingers. Gleaming in the fractured light. You gulp, your body quivering from the pressure, your knees dig into the hard floor, shoulders straining from your hands being tied behind your back.

"Y-yes Pau- my king," You notice the dark glint in his faux blue eyes. He releases your chin sharply, leaving a stinging pain in its wake. His ring hovers next to your lips, awaiting the sealing kiss. Your fate flutters between your teeth, round and thick like a transmute pearl. You kiss his ring, letting your lips feel the creases of the bird's wings.

You hear Feyd chuckle from above you, relishing your crestfallen state.

Harknonen beaste.

"My queen" Paul muses, his voice too gleeful for the setting. "My precious little queen, forever by our side."

Oh, who would ever want to be queen?

He owns you

They own you

Forever trapped

[passionateseadruid]

Snake King’s Bride

Warning: Profanity (The F bomb), unhealthy relationships, human sacrifice, deals with the devil. (Why tf am I writing this 😭(because I had an idea and it wouldn’t get out of my head that’s why)) Other warnings may be added.

Part one The Exchange

You were so excited to move out and go to college. But in this economy everything is expensive, so you got a roommate and a job at this adorable little thrift store. (Employee discount for the win). 

“Bye, Lilian! I’m off to work!”

“Okay! I’ll be home late, so don’t wait up!”

“Alright! If you feel unsafe or if you want to leave the concert early feel free to call me!”

“Okay!”

You made your way to your job and entered the shop.

“Kaitlyn I’m here!”

“Oh hey! Come in come in! I was just reorganizing some stuff.” She stood on a chair as she swapped some things on shelfs, next to her lay a bag of flower petals (fake ones most likely).

“Anything new or interesting get dropped off?”

“My step-sister Regan dropped off a ring earlier today.” She said hopping down.

“Ooh! What does it look like?”

“It’s gold and it’s shaped like a snake coiled around your finger. And it’s eating a little ruby in the shape of an apple.”

“Can I see it?”

“You’re… interested?”

“I guess you could say so.”

She smiled, almost exited and relieved at once. “I’ll go get it.”

She left and after a few minutes you were worried so you went to find her and you heard her talking in the break room.

“…

I promise she’s perfect

…

Trust me! Rea Rea doesn’t have to get hurt

…

See?!

…

Oh thank you!” She walked out of the break room and you hid behind a clothing rack. 

You pretended to be coming back from the bathroom. “Hey, I just want to say that I hope you know I’m here for you if you need anything. Like I know this is out of pocket but I thought I’d tell you because we’re getting close.”

“I’m fine. Here’s the ring.”

“This is beautiful!”

“Put it on!”

“What? Why?” You laughed.

“Why not? I won’t tell. Just do it.”

“Okay but only for a minute.” You slipped it on. “Okay that’s enough… why won’t it come off?”

“It’s… not coming off?” Kaitlyn asked nervously.

“I’m going to see if I can loosen it with maybe some soap or something. Where did your sister get this ring by the way?!” You yelled from the bathroom. The shop was usually empty on weekdays so you didn’t really care about how loud you were being.

“Um… my little sister said that it was a family heirloom to be passed down to the first woman born into that family on her 20th birthday.”

“Okaaaay…”

“I’m not finding anything; but while you have that ring on why don’t we have some fun!”

“What do you mean by that?” You asked cautiously.

“Why don’t we just pretend that you’re getting married?”

“What?” You laughed.

“Come on! It’ll be fun!”

"Why not?" You smiled.

You pulled out an old wedding dress and the matching shoes. She arranged the flower petals from before in a circular pattern and placed some candles around. "I think this dress might be a bit big on me."

"I'll grab some safety pins." Kaitlyn smiled.

You changed into the dress and when you went to zip it up it felt like the dress shrunk to fit snuggly on you. It was a white ballgown dress with a sweetheart neckline and long sleeves. She then changed into some white close toed wedges with faux gemstones dangling from the strap. It felt like the shoes were expanding as you slipped into them. "Huh, everything is a perfect fit." You then slipped on a chocker that had two rows of pearls and a big diamond in the center and finally placed the veil that came with the dress on top of your head.

Stepping out Kaitlyn had adjusted the veil to cover your face and lead you over to the ring of flowers. "Okay stand here for a second."

"Kaitlyn, something doesn't feel right about this." You said as you stepped into the circle.

"Shut up."

"Excuse you!"

Kaitlyn starts speaking in Latin as you try to step out of the circle. "Kaitlyn stop! You're scaring me!" A forcefield stopped you from leaving the circle. "What the fuck? What the fuck is this? Let me out!"

A fiery rift slices through the air and a dark demonic voice calls out.

"Please, Dark King of hell take her as your bride in exchange for Regan!"

"Deal now leave me be."

"What NO!" You screamed as the floor erupted from under you.

[bonny-kookoo]

Now I really want to see Someone older's MC being all protective over JK 😈

A drabble .. maybe .. please? 🥹

You admit, that men scare you. Even Jungkook, sometimes, in certain situations, intimidates you. Makes your instincts flare up, so to speak.

But you're not scared of her- or what she thinks she is.

Jungkook is currently back in the car fetching his wallet he forgot, while you stare down Evelyn and her pearl necklace in front of the food booths. "So you think you got him all figured out." She asks, standing across from you in line for some baked goods, as you wait for your boyfriend to return.

"I don't." You answer simply.

"Huh?" She frowns. "Listen, you're fun for him. I can't blame him- you're a pretty one, and he's always been young at heart. But you're not a wife to be, let's be real." She offers. "You're young. Why waste your time with a guy who's aiming his late thirties?" She giggles, shaking her head as she digs her hands into the pocket of her faux fur coat.

"You're his age." You answer. "Why did you waste your time by pretending to love him?" You wonder, not really with any bite in your tone at all. "And you didn't even play the part well. From what he's told me, you've been a terrible actress from the start."

Evelyn is quiet, staring you down. It's clear that she didn't expect you to not bend at her words at all. You're not even mad- you just seem almost sorry for her.

"His work is his wife. He'll put you aside the moment he's got you caught on his finger in the form of a silver ring." She warns. "He plays the part of the loyal partner and willing lover, but once he's back from the honeymoon, you're old news." She explains.

"Then I won't be surprised in the future if he does, no?" You ask her. "Now that you prepared me for it. Thank you." You say, politely so. "It'll soften the fall a lot."

"That wasn't-" she starts, before she shakes her head. "He's not the guy you think he is-"

"Well I sure hope he isn't, considering how my expectations towards men have been shaped by past abuse!" You joke, and something flashes over her face, before she sighs. "Evelyn, moving on is scary. I get it." You offer. "But for something new to come in, you have to get rid of something old first. You only have so much space in your heart- don't clutter it." You advise her.

"I don't need your advice, kid." She shrugs off.

"And yet I hope you'll take it." Someone says behind you, hand on your shoulder as Jungkook finally interferes. "Eve,-" He starts, but she shakes her hand, waving him off.

"I get it, I get it, you got your toy around, I'll stop bothering you." She sighs, before she pushes her hair over her shoulder. "And by the way- some soft shades of pink would suit her skintone. Just in case you'd like to buy her an.. actually nice coat." She mentions towards Jungkook before she walks off, leaving him confused.

"I- what was that about?" He wonders, unsure before you peck his lips.

"I think that was a peace offering." You giggle, before you hug him, chin on his chest. "... and now I want something warm." You tell him, and he can't help but smile.

"Anything you want, love."

[existslikepristin]

Tags: NSFW, TheLounge, Dreamcatcher, Handong, female reader (or potentially a force-feminized male reader your mileage may vary), just a little quick-read ficlet about how Handong is a pervert, is that a foot fetish?, you should probably worship Handong’s body, she got them wander-y eyes and hands, woah woah woah you don't think this is inappropriate do you?, are you a dirty little reader?, oh you're a dirty little reader alright, Handong can tell

Just A Little Vanity

Handong strikes quite the figure. Most anyone would, sitting as she is on an armchair ornate enough to be mistaken for a throne. Your particular point of view is that of extreme artistic foreshortening. Mere millimeters away from your eyes, her bare foot takes up most of your field of view, obscuring even her crossed, mile-long legs. Her face, appropriately for such protracted limbs, seems distant and yet no less beautiful. Beyond those gorgeous, exposed legs, her fashion sense is as ostentatious as the tower-like structure of her body. Shaggy faux fur on denim, bedazzled camo, and pearls. Hair so platinum it might as well be chrome, reflecting blacks, blues, whites, and silvers. One slender finger adorned with two unreasonably large rings taps gently against her cheek.

“What to do… what to do…” she muses, “with such a naughty little girl like you.”

“Make me please you?”

She sighs heavily and presses her big toe against your lips. “Shush, you. It was not a question. Did you hear a question mark?” she demonstrates her meaning with her tone well enough for you to recognize the rhetorical nature of the question. The rest of your suggestions will have to wait.

“You…” Handong says, stroking your jawline with the same foot, “do not get to wave that delicious butt of yours in front of me all day and then just get what you want. There are consequences for teasing me.”

Although you're not going to say anything about it, you can’t help but think that perhaps Handong was planning this all along. After all, she made you wear a tiny skirt today, insisting it would be fine without safety shorts, and then she found any and every reason to be behind and slightly below you. It was certainly less than subtle. You'd been feeling her eyes burn a hole in your helplessly visible underwear all day. At least it kept your ass warm in the chilly spring air.

Yes, it was all a trap. Not a particularly clever one, and also not one you mind being caught in. Though it'd be nice if she let you kneel somewhere other than the hard floor.

Handong continues to caress you with her foot, lifting your chin, turning your head to either side. She inspects your face from each angle.

“Done talking back?” she threatens.

“Yes,” you talk back. Cheeky, but technically compliant.

She smirks with you, appreciating the irony. “Good. I would hate to have to send you home without a snack.”

Oh how utterly, coquettishly subtle.

“Please, no, Handong. I'm so hungry.”

She lifts her foot, and your jaw with it, snapping your mouth shut. “Shut up already. I am looking at you.”

It's unclear how those things are related, but you keep yourself from saying anything.

With a flourish, Handong uncrosses her legs, spreading them wide so you can briefly see up her skirt. “Surprise,” no underwear. But you can't look long. Her upper body spans that vast distance in an instant, putting her face nearer to yours, going from practically a pinprick to vision-encompassing, menacing you from above. Those slender, metal and jewel laden fingers grasp just below your chin, holding your head still. You only feel four fingers, giving you the impression that she's sticking her pinky out as if you're a fancy glass of wine. You can't wait for the dinner party.

Handong clicks her tongue, half-lidded eyes traveling up and down. They linger on the down stroke, reminding you of the other piece of clothing she'd demanded of you. Your chest is barely covered, the neckline of the shirt so low that it really shouldn't be called a “neck"line anymore, but perhaps a “nipple"line. As she pulls you forward, you're sure she can see far, far more than the shirt's designer ever intended. Handong's light dusting of a blush and perverted twitch of a lip key you in further.

“Mmm,” she hums, “I could just take a bit out of you.”

You bite your tongue to stop yourself from correcting her verbal spelling error. She tends to make more mistakes when her mind is meandering down your clothes.

She urges you up with a slight pull. Anybody normal would close their eyes for the impending kiss, but Handong’s eyes stay open and predatory until the last possible moment.

When you’re close enough, she strikes. Your lower lip is caught between her teeth and she nibbles softly before she kisses you proper. Her breath hisses between the gaps at the corners of your lips, greedy more for you than the air. She pries your mouth open with hers, invading you unreasonably quickly. She’s got a different metric for what constitutes reasonability though. You’re her toy. She'll play with you according to her rules.

“Handong!�� Soomin shouts from across the room, “I’ve called your name three times! Come get your damn coffee! And we’ve got rooms for that!”

Without any additional warning, Handong drops you to the floor, stands up, and glides gracefully past you toward the counter. Watching her go past, you see no small number of other coffee shop-goers staring in your direction.

“Thanks, babe,” Handong flirts shamelessly as she picks up your drinks, “Oh, and I would like to use one of the rooms.”

[lottiecrabie]

itll be you and me and this idea forever babe.. we might be alone but we Understand🤞

what if it wasn’t just us… 😌🙂‍↕️ and it entered the world through the miraculous art form that is writing by tumblr dot com user lottiecrabie 😌🙂‍↕️😏 (even just a crumblet)

for you my psychic linked sister. a little Crumb🫶

the saxophones and trumpets ring through the ballroom. the repetitive steps and roaring laughs mix through, skisloping off the kicks and twists of the t-strap shoes. the champagne flows out into a series of coupes and you grab one, spilling it on the side. you down a mouthful with a grin, still light and happy from the spinning dance you just twirled out of. 

sweat sticks your headache band to your forehead. you fix up the feather. you fish a cigarette out of the emerald elephant dispenser, placing it between your ruby red lips. your eyes scan for a lighter next. 

‘enjoying yourself?’ your ears perk up at the sound of his husky voice. you smirk, turning around to find detective healy. 

with his modest trench coat and permanently gloomy predilection, he sticks out like a sore thumb amidst the decadent decor. it’s always a little funny to see him around such open fun, like he’s meant to exist in dark, cold alleys, frowning over a body. still, he looks handsome, dark and broody, with his sober eyes and his wild flowing hair. 

you pull the cigarette from your lips with a smile. you shrug, crooning, ‘why, it’s a lovely night.’ healy searches the inside of his trench coat. ‘what about you? not too joyful for mr. grumps?’ 

he shakes his head, though a grin still teases his lips. he draws a lighter out. you lean closer to him, hanging the cigarette off your lips again. he flicks once, lighting up the tip. you exhale out the smoke, but stay near him. he smells like cedar and whiskey, like nights toasting after murders successfully solved.

healy gives you a look, shoving his lighter back in his trench coat. ‘what are you doing here, trouble?’ 

‘can’t a woman enjoy a soirée? my, if i was like you, i’d be locked up in my house all year round.’

‘you’d be safer for it.’

you smile, mischievous. ‘and your life much, much less fun.’ healy gives you a onceover, trailing on your uncovered legs. you take a sip of your champagne, drawing attention to your lips next. you give him a faux-innocent look, singsonging, ‘you know, mister briggs is an excellent charleston dancer.’ 

healy groans, rubbing his eyebrows. ‘tell me you didn’t dance with a murder suspect.’

you up your nose. ‘well, if you don’t want to know, then i guess i won’t share what he said.’ you whip around, taking two steps before a strong hand wraps around your arm. 

you don’t even bother hiding your smirk before turning around. healy gives you a somber look, demanding, ‘spill.’ the tone of his voice sizzles down your spine. 

‘is this a shakedown?’ his jaw ticks. a crystalline voice spills from your lips. ‘you’re cute when you’re annoyed.’

‘then i must be ravishing every time i’m in your company.’

your eyes spark. ‘oh, yes, you are, detective.’ healy swallows thickly, dropping his hand from your hand as if burned. you cock your head, tension still fizzling. ‘promise me a dance and i’ll tell you.’

‘a dance?’

‘oh, you do know a foxtrot, don’t you, detective healy?’

his stare burns. ‘fine.’ 

you hum, turning to look at the roaring party. ‘mister briggs has a lovely summer home in brighton. he loves to entertain his most favorite guests there. why, he just invited me,’ you catch briggs chatting up a young lady, brushing the pearl on her ear. you sigh regrettably, ‘but i’m afraid the cold sea air doesn’t agree with my predilection.’

‘brighton. where francesca would visit every month.’

‘oh yes,’ you throw him a look. your shoulders up excitedly. ‘francesca and mister briggs were having an affair. how scandalous.’ 

he grins and, oh, this might be your favorite look of his. rare but dazzling, shining over his face. he says, ‘that’s motive.’

you tsk. ‘and you didn’t even want me to dance.’ he opens his mouth to protest, but you’re too quick. your throw your coupe on the table, discarding your smoke on the elephant head. you grab his hand, cutting him off, tugging him to the dancefloor. ‘come on, you owe me one.’

‘there’s a murder suspect at large.’

‘oh, please,’ you halt in the middle of the floor; your hand on his shoulder, his finding home on your waist— no matter his protests. the touch is electric, burning through your dress. you feel wired. ‘he’s not going anywhere. this is the soirée of month, after all.’ 

matty sighs resignedly. languid jazz plays. he takes a first step, gliding across the floor. his moves are certain and precise. you follow his rhythm, pushing and pulling at his guidance. detective healy is a good dancer. what an interesting new morsel of information.

in the crook of your ear, healy whispers, ‘one day, all this frolicking with trouble will really get you in deep waters, darling.’

you lean back enough to meet his eyes. ‘then it’s lucky you’ll be there to save me, isn’t it, detective?’

[olaqueenbeeofastrology]

#Tallulah

@jcrew @katespadeny @betseyjohnsonjewelry

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@youtube @yahoo @google @thr @variety @instagram @yellowtaxi @lyft @twitter @tumblr @yahoofinance @money @fortune @forbes @wsj @dalailama @uscopyrightoffice @wholefoods @olaqueenbee @olatransits @olavay @pinkjonperry on @instagram

@vogue @ebay @thr @variety @nytimes @seattletimes @latimes @time @google @forbes @etsy @tvguide @pbs @nytimes

@gemstone-network @gemstonesilverjewelryus @gemstones @jewelry @fashion @crystalgems-blog @youtube @google @yahoo @bing @twobigblondes @consignmentcouture @christiesauctions @sothebys-pe-blog @sothebys @qvc @qvcuk @twitter @tv-moments @variety @thr @watchestobuy @watchesparadise @bestbuy @biglots @target @watchrepairlondon @vintage @watchrepair @vintagewatchesdepot @vintagewatchesandjewellery-blog @gemstone-network @gemstonesilverjewelryus @gemstones @jewelry @fashion @crystalgems-blog @youtube @google @yahoo @bing @twobigblondes @consignmentcouture @christiesauctions @sothebys-pe-blog @sothebys @qvc @qvcuk @twitter @tv-moments @variety @thr @taylor13 @lizzo

@youtube @yahoo @google @thr @variety @instagram @yellowtaxi @lyft @twitter @tumblr @yahoofinance @money @fortune @forbes @wsj @dalailama @uscopyrightoffice @wholefoods @olaqueenbee @olatransits @olavay @pinkjonperry on @instagram

@vogue @ebay @thr @variety @nytimes @seattletimes @latimes @time @google @forbes @etsy @tvguide @pbs @nytimes

[narunasims]

[ange-la-ange-ootd]

Dolly Heart JSK & headbow - Angelic Pretty Cat and Bunny Ears Sailor Blouse - Long Ears and Sharp Ears Studio heart necklace - Liz Lisa rings - Dandy Pupeteer shoes - Cotton Candy Feet

[ID: A sweet lolita fashion coordinate. The main colors are pastel blue, pink, and white. The main piece is a high waist blue jumperskirt with a simple print of pink and white hearts. It's layered over a white sailor blouse with elegant lace details and paired with off-white tights and pink mary jane shoes. The accessories include the dress's matching headbow, a faux pearl necklace with golden heart charms, a large pink bow pinned to the dress bodice, a pink star ring, and a blue raspberry float ring.]

[prophetic-hijinks]

Princessa ( a Luisa drabble)

“OOH that slit goes high!” Isabella declared in a mock scandalized tone. As Dolores squeaked and blushed, flashing her leg out from one of Elena’s lounge dresses a few inches too short on the bottom. Enjoying the tinkling sound of crystal beads colliding only audible to her. As the excited sounds of Mirabel’s voice echoed from the closet into the cave-like antechamber of Bruno and Elena’s bedroom.

Elena giggled from her place on the loveseat next to Luisa, as Mirabel brought a handful of dresses to lay on the bed. The trio cooed over the glamorous styles. Deciding which dress would fit whom, and who was going to go next. Of course, these styles are not ones any of the girls would ever wear in the Encanto. But a throwaway statement of the girls being welcome to borrow any dress had a very pregnant Elena nearly dragged to Bruno’s tower to play dress-up. Meanwhile, the seer decided to make himself scarce to ask Antonio how to mediate a serious conflict among the rats.

Luisa and Elena watched the happy proceedings as Mirabel disappeared behind the screen to try on a velvet green dress with faux pearls hanging on the shoulder. The dress she wore the first night Bruno saw her, and her life changed. Instinctively she brought her hand to her swollen belly, happy as can be. She would be unlikely to fit those dresses again, but it was more than a fair trade.

“Whoo!”, Elena exclaimed as she felt a kick. Luisa flinching at her side, immediately reacting with protective concern. Hands at the ready to help where no help could be given.

“It’s alright, I think their ears were burning. I was thinking about them.”

Then another kick gave her a start, and Luisa reflexively checked on Elena again. “Should I get Mom?”

“I’m fine Lu. I think the armistice is over. The twins are taking turns trading fire as wombmates”. The pun perhaps not hitting, as Luisa’s brown eyes didn’t drop a smidgen of concern after the joke.

“I’m really ok, I promise.”

“Sorry, I know it is normal it's just… you’re just so small”. Luisa trailed off almost apologetically, she had been reacting strongly to every kick all morning. Elena put a reassuring hand on her arm, as she leaned back to take pressure off her spine.

“No smaller than Alma was I have been told, and she had three. Besides we know for a fact everything will be ok”. Elena said gently waving to the glowing green tablet of her future family framed above the bed. A rectangle piece of emerald glass save for a small corner cut out to make their wedding rings. A promise for a future that was almost here.

Satisfied Luisa smiled, and they both looked back at the three girls. Mirabel was trying her signature dancing twirl, but the too-tight dress was not willing to accommodate. A clever seamstress, Mirabel on her own embroidered skirt dropped the waist to capture maximum twirl. Obviously glitz and glitter had downsides.

“I’m sorry I’m too short for you to wear my dresses,” Elena offered as she thought about the contents of her closet, and if anything could be used to help her share in this moment. But her mind was drawing a blank.

“It’s alright, I like my practical clothes.” Luisa countered, but Elena didn’t quite believe it.

Luisa’s room at the beginning portion functioned like a gym. A room full of weights and dumbbells that would make Hugo jealous. The balcony like entry, opening up to a beautiful vista of rocky mountains as strong and imposing as her exterior. But like Luisa, her true nature was hidden deeper. A childlike sweetness of a woman denied a proper childhood. Her bedroom full of soft fuzzy rugs, flower linens, family photos and drawings collected on the walls, sheer curtains hanging over her bed, and a pile of stuffed animals she was gifted over the years. Of all his daughters, and despite all appearances, Luisa was Agustin’s little princess.

‘Oh that’s it!’ Elena thought with excitement as she swung her legs up, using the momentum to vault her and her rotund belly forward out of the chair. The sudden motion caught Luisa at such a surprise, she didn’t have a chance to help the petite songbird stand before she was waddling like a petite penguin to her cavernous closet.

“Now it’s not ‘practical’ mind you,” Elena called loudly from the magical closet that was bigger on the inside. Before emerging with a green velvet box. “But I have something perfect for you.”

“When I was young I used to do birthday parties during the day, and lounge at night.” Elena said with a sheepish smile, As she opened the lid. "The dresses are gone, but I couldn’t get rid of this.” With a flourish, she revealed a shimmering costume princess crown. Delighted to see Luisa’s eyes widen at the treasure. “I am a little bit of a pack rat.” Elena said as she gently fixed the crown onto Luisa’s head, pulling her braid to cover the sides. “But perhaps that is why your uncle loves me?”, she joked.

“So beautiful,” Elena said stepping back to admire her lovely sobrina. “It’s yours if you want it.”

The quickness a teary-eyed Luisa stood to tower over Elena to envelope her in one of her signature bear hugs, did give Elena pause as to whether she would pop under that affection. But ever conscious of her strength, Luisa adjusted quickly and gently enfolded her tia in thanks. Before excitedly going to admire herself in the long mirror, the trio of girls chorusing “oohs and awws” as Luisa joined them.

With very little grace, Elena gingerly sat down to watch the proceedings. A tiny oof as she settled into place with a pillow shoved behind her spine.

“I wonder, do I have a little princess of my own?” Elena asked quietly, but a smiling glance from Dolores told her it was still heard.

A tiny kick came in response and Elena leaned back happily.

[sharkyswaters]

[chr0n1c-ag0ny]

⬥⬦ Sigma fall date outfit ⬦⬥

⬥⬦ Description ⬦⬥

⟢ Short green dress with a soft tan coat, grey wool gloves, and a yellow kitty scarf

⟢ Heeled Mary Jane's with white ruffled socks

⟢ Layered rosary-esque necklace, star shaped pearl chocker, and silver heart locket

⟢ Silver chunky patterned bangles and assorted maximalist rings

-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-

⬥⬦ HC's ⬦⬥

✧ Curtsy's and offers her hand to be kissed when you meet her

✧ Will hold onto the crook of his dates arm with both hands

✧ She expects her to open doors for her and pull out her chair

✧ Giggles at all of her dates jokes, even the bad ones

✧ Their nose scrunches when they laugh

✧ Plays with his hair when nervous and uses it to true and hide his blush

✧ If the date went well, they leave their date one of their rings

✧ Always manages to attract a random cat as your walking back to your car at the end of the night and her date gets to watch as she majestically befriends and seems to be one in the same with the feline. she jokes about taking them home and raising it together.

✧ Will barter for food off her dates plate or a sip of their drink

✧ Will find a way to stay out all night so he can see the stars with his date

✧ Holds his dates hand whenever possible

✧ Likes to have his waist held onto

✧ Layers a cologne oil with a perfume mist and smells down right edible (also uses those pheromone things, so like, her date always wants to bite her)

✧ Their incredibly flirty in a soft and faux naive way, forcing their date to make the first move

✧ Melts into that first kiss like butter on a warm skillet

✧ She loves to go dancing, so long as the music is slow and her date holds her close

✧ Wants to be spoiled

✧ Will shamelessly destroy his date in any sort of game, whether it be poker, chess, darts, pool, etc. He will win and enjoy every second of it.

✧ Will use being cold as an excuse to cuddle up to her date

✧ He's wearing lingerie under the dress:

[solitaireships]

✨ for someone you haven't gotten to write yet?

✨ - "you look…nice."

At first I wasn't sure who to write for bcs I've written for pretty much all of my F/Os already but then I remembered. Miguel has never gotten a fic, and this prompt really is perfect for him. So have a little bit of Miguel and Piera cute moments as they get ready to go to an investor's party

Rating: Teen (kinda. There's cursing, but it's the 2099 version)

Genre: Fluff

Words: 1263 words

Divider by saradika

Piera zips up the back of her dress, getting ready at Miguel’s apartment for an Alchemax party he was invited to. Normally she wouldn’t come to these— Alchemax doesn’t like the press being present, they're always nervous that a secret could leak and fall into one of their rival companies’ hands. But tonight she’s not going to be there on press business, instead coming as Miguel’s girlfriend and plus one.

She’s glad to let the focus be on him tonight. It’s rare that he gets the recognition that he deserves, and has Alchemax’s brightest mind— and sharpest tongue— she’s sure that he’ll be busy dealing with countless corporate bigshots tonight. Ones who will then also quickly realize they made a mistake in talking to him.

Piera’s also pretty sure that’s part of why Miguel invited her along. Even if he wasn’t her boyfriend, he would have made sure that someone came with him so he wouldn’t lose his mind fielding infinite annoying questions about his work from people who only care about their bottom line. Neither of them are the biggest fan of parties, but at least she can be a grounding force for him as he deals with all of the mindless smalltalk and networking tonight. 

If nothing else, Piera’s glad for the opportunity to get to dress up. It’s not often that she gets opportunities like this for her to go all out, so she wants to look her best. And with this being something rare for her, she decided to try something new to mark the occasion. 

Piera’s always liked fashion from the 1950s— the vintage feel is interesting to her, and something that she carried into her costume as Spider-Woman. But this is the first cocktail dress she’s worn styled after those aesthetics.

The light purple dress is cinched around her hips, its skirt flaring out and stopping just below her knees. The sweetheart neckline of it shows off her chest more than she’s used to, and her arms are on full display with its sleeveless look. She debated about wearing the pearl necklace she has on tonight, worrying it would draw too much attention to her bust, but she can admit it goes well with the white faux fur wrap she has and the gold rings glittering on her fingers. She styled her hair for tonight more than usual too, managing to get it into Hollywood waves. 

As Piera looks at herself in the mirror, it’s hard to believe that this is really her. She can recognize herself of course, but it’s so different from her usual look that it takes a second for her to process. It’s rare for her to feel this good about her appearance, and as she scoops up the pair of white heels she’s going to put on before leaving, she hopes Miguel likes the way this look came out as much as she does. 

“Miggy, I’m ready to go!” Piera calls once she makes her way out to the living room. 

His voice calls back from the bedroom, “Hold on a second, lover!”

It doesn’t take long for him to come out, though it gives Piera enough time for her to put on her shoes. And as Miguel comes out, she gets a chance to enjoy the view of him in his suit.

It’s a custom tailored one with a dark blue jacket and matching pair of pants. A bit of gold embroidery is along the lapels of the suit, matching with a golden tie. He has a white button up shirt on along with it, and he’s wearing a pair of shiny new brown shoes. It all goes well with the yellow tinted glasses he always wears, the large circle rims of them hiding the unnaturally bright red color of his eyes. 

Miguel does up the buttons of his jacket as he walks into the living room, hiding the way his stomach peeks over the waistband of his pants. Piera thinks he looks handsome in the suit, it shows off his broad shoulders well and he does always look good in blue. He always dresses nicely for work, but she likes seeing him dress a little more formally, a little more to show off his looks. 

She really is lucky to get to call him her boyfriend. 

“I’ll just need to grab my keys,” Miguel says. “Do you have the ones for the car already?”

“Yep,” Piera confirms. She’s glad that she was able to get a dress with pockets in it. 

“Alright, let’s—”

He pauses, eyes wide behind his glasses as he looks at Piera. His eyes roam over her, one hand idly reaching up to adjust his tie. 

“Wow. You look… nice,” Miguel says after a second. 

“Oh. Thanks.” 

Piera’s never been good at taking compliments. It’s hard to believe them most of the time, and with how overactive her mind usually is, she can’t help but worry that he paused because he doesn’t actually like her dress. 

But any worries about whether Miguel meant it or not fade away as he takes Piera’s hand in his, guiding it up to give her a quick kiss on the back of her hand. It makes her think of something out of an old movie, one of the ones that she was only able to find recreations of in the library since the film was long lost to time. Piera tries to ignore the way her heart flutters at that, keeping her composure. 

“You look handsome, by the way,” she says. 

“Figured I should put some effort in. It’s not every day that Tyler lets me come to these things. I think he’s scared I’ll call an investor a glitch to their face. Might as well dress up a little for the occasion,” Miguel says with a grin. 

“The occasion of getting to go to an Alchemax party, or the occasion of bit-talking an investor?” Piera teases. 

“Only one of those is an event worth celebrating.”

“True.”

Miguel lets go of Piera’s hand, going to get his keys. “But at least I’m not going to be suffering through hours of boring corporate talk that makes me want to throw myself into the sun alone this time.”

“I’ll do what I can to distract you,” Piera offers. She says it jokingly, but she’s genuinely glad to help him get through this. Given his complicated relationship with Tyler, she’s more than happy to keep his mind off of things. 

“Thanks,” Miguel says. He tucks his keys into the pocket of his slacks, checking his watch. “Alright, we’re already going to be a couple minutes late. Are you ready to head out?”

“I could’ve been ready earlier if you told me,” Piera says, making her way over to the apartment door with Miguel. 

“We’re not going to want to be there the whole time. Being late is good,” he assures. 

“If you say so.”

Miguel opens the door, motioning with Piera to go ahead of him. “After you.”

“Thank you.”

“You know I’m always glad to follow your lead,” he says.

“And I’m gonna be trusting you to lead us through this god awful party,” Piera replies.

Miguel scoffs. “The only thing I’ll be leading us towards is an exit after an hour of suffering through everything.”

“Mhm, you’ll get to be my hero again then.”

“Only if you're mine by never leaving me alone tonight.”

“Sounds like an easy job,” Piera says as the two of them make their way to the elevator. After all, she’s always happy to spend time with Miguel.

[alarrytale]

About Harry at ss daley

I don’t know what to say, I get him wanting to blend for privacy on the street but even then the short shorts will get attention. the old tshirts no rings no pearls and the hair it’s so short on the sides it looks like a faux hawk if I don’t like it on a rando I’m not going to like it on him.

Just my opinion but it feels like something is going on with him, look at his eyes they seem kind of lifeless they is when he’s not scowling then they look angry, go back they’ve been like that for a while at least since he shaved his head, could he nothing though just me overthinking.

Between both of them one is dressing more “masculine” off stage while Louis is trying to act it off stage

It’s almost like they’re regressing instead of progressing

Hi, anon!

If i don't like it on a rando, i'm not going to like it on him.

Yes, anon! Keep your integrity and check your bias. If you don’t like dirty vans on the catwalk, then why would it suddenly be okay when H does it? If you don’t like a mowhawk, you shouldn't think it looks good on Harry.

And about the regressing instead of progressing. I think you hit the nail on the head of why i was so frustrated yesterday. Especially with H, it seems like all his former words are hollow, it seems like he's a muted version of his former self. He seems less confident and like he doesn’t want to make an effort, because people will love it anyway. It's concerning to me. I'm also worried about how much more masculine and how little diversity he's showing in his looks. He's totally missing the touch of flamboyance he's always got up his sleeve. Or the extra little touch that makes an outfit go from plain to fabulous. Even daily mail described him as "casual" which is saying something from a tabloid who always wax poetic about celebrities outfits.

This is by far the most masculine he's ever dressed and looked at events or off work since 2012. He used to wear white skinny Paige jeans while being papped arriving at the airport, he used to wear a flared Guc*i suit pants in flowery patterns, blouses and heeled shoes. Where did the confidence go? What happened to flamboyance? What happened to the element of surprise? I'm not into this at all.

[olaqueenbeeofastrology]

👄

#vintage

#MarcelBoucher #Boucher

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#janmichael

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[heidistreasurechest]