#frocks for teenage girl
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dishashah · 10 months ago
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Choosing Girls' Frocks: Simple Tips for the Perfect Pick!
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Choosing the right frock for girls is more than just picking out cute clothes. It's about ensuring comfort, reflecting her unique style, and considering practical aspects. In this guide, we'll delve into simple yet crucial tips for parents aiming to make the perfect pick for their young girls.
Significance of the Perfect Frock
Selecting the ideal frock holds great significance in a young girl's wardrobe. It's not just about dressing them up; it's about nurturing their comfort and style from an early age. A well-chosen frock dress can boost their confidence and make them feel special, laying the foundation for a positive relationship with fashion.
Understanding Your Daughter's Preferences
Explore Her Favourite Colours And Patterns- Understanding your daughter's colour and pattern preferences is the first step to a successful frock selection. Take the time to observe her likes and dislikes, involving her in the process. Over and above this, explain to your daughter that not all colours and patterns can suit her. For instance, black dresses aren’t for everyday use. Ditto with jacquard embroidered dresses that are only suitable for weddings or festivals. Whenever she intends to buy frocks online, help her narrow down her options and choose one that suits her body shape, size and intent well.
Consider Comfort Features- Comfort is paramount, especially for young, active girls. Opt for frocks made from soft materials with easy-to-wear designs. Discuss the importance of comfort with your daughter and choose girls frocks online that allow her to move freely while looking effortlessly stylish.
Choosing the Right Size
Regular Size Check- For your growing daughter, you need to keep checking whether her clothes fit the way they did. Sometimes, a dress bought a few months earlier may not fit her today. Encourage your daughter to try all her clothes once she’s realized that some of her clothes aren’t fitting her well. Look for adjustable features that can accommodate growth spurts, making the frock last longer.
Allowance For Growth- Leaving room for growth is key to extending the usability of the frocks. Discuss the significance of selecting slightly larger sizes, especially for special occasions. This thoughtful approach not only considers her current needs but also anticipates her growth.
Seasonal Considerations
Summer Frocks- For summer, focus on lightweight and breathable fabrics to keep her cool and comfortable. Choose frocks in bright colours that not only align with the cheerful season but also add a vibrant touch to her wardrobe.
Winter Frocks- Winter demands warm and cozy frocks for girls to shield her from the cold. Discuss layering options, such as pairing the frock with leggings or a cardigan. This ensures she stays snug while looking adorable during the colder months.
Easy Maintenance
Machine Washable Fabrics-  With the convenience of machine-washable frocks, you don’t need to worry about the wear and tear on her frock . Ensure you choose fabrics that withstand regular washing, also staying fresh and ready for easy use later on.
Stain-Resistant Options- Let’s face it, there will be times when she comes home with stains on her clothes. Dealing with stubborn stains can be tough, thankfully there are many fabrics that allow you to wash these stains easily. This makes cleaning up those inevitable spills a breeze, saving both time and stress.
Budget-Friendly Picks
Affordable And Durable Fabrics- You can always choose budget-friendly yet durable fabric options for practical wardrobe choices. Browse for frocks online that strike the right balance between cost and quality, ensuring value for money.
DIY Styling Options- Encourage your daughter to explore DIY options for a personalized touch to her frocks. Simple embellishments, such as fabric patches or cute buttons, can enhance the overall appeal and make each frock unique. Even if she doesn’t like a particular frock design, you can always ask her ways to enhance the design and work together with her to replace the buttons or add something to the outfit. She’ll love flaunting this style with her friends.
Occasion-Specific Frocks
Casual Everyday Frocks- Browse the frock collection online with your daughter and let her narrow down her options. Explain her which frock designs would work for daily wear along with the type of fabrics that suit her. Provide tips on selecting comfortable frocks suitable for playdates, school, or family outings. Suggest versatile designs that effortlessly transition between different activities.
Special Occasion Frocks- Discuss the importance of having a few special occasion frocks in her wardrobe. Guide her in choosing elegant designs for parties or events, ensuring she feels like a little princess on those memorable occasions.
Conclusion
In conclusion, the perfect frock for your little girl is a harmonious blend of style, comfort, and practicality. By understanding her preferences, considering the right size, seasonal variations, and maintenance aspects, parents can make delightful choices that resonate with both the child's and their own sense of satisfaction.
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thecoolnauta · 9 months ago
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GENSHIN WITH A TEEN!CREATOR WHO IS LIKE LUZ NOCEDA PART TWO
okay so this is part two and i'm just so dizzy but i'v been ALL THE MAMAHUEVO day thinking about this so yeah
TW: gn reader, teenager reader (ALL IS PLATONIC), some mentions of bullying but not that many, maybe sm angstand a lot of spoilers abut the archons missions, reader calling themselfs "bad boy" but meh
part one :)
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So you were running for your life
No, seriously you're running for your life, don't laugh about it again
Some random people with a very ugly green uniform were hunting you like you were some type of a witch of the 1600's because you tried to ask them for directions
People of the town being so mean to you sounds like a frocking fanfic trope
Your weak nerd legs wouldn't handle it anymore, but you still running like they have told you there is a special product of your hyperfixation on sale.
AND! you have an egg
A magic egg, with... shinny shell
Running, running, running, blahblahblah, you almost pass out when you lost them closer to a beach
Pretty view, huh?
You heard their steps and hide behind a big stone, your legs and lap now wet by the crystal water
They left and you stop holding the staff like your life dependet of it.
Oh! that's your reflection, you haven't seen your face in hours
...
THAT'S NOT YOUR FACE
The horns and the black eyes felt like some very creep vision of yourself, but you couldn't get that first impresion of you out of your head.
You looked like something, not like someone
Even though your face looks "correct" now, the feeling of the itchy skin and the fragile organs aren't something you would forget any time soon.
"Well, let's not think about that, this bad boy needs to find any social community or will cry" you jump of the stone and continue walking wherever the wind guides you
Actaully, why does the wind feels like guiding you?
pointpointpoint
WHATEVER PROBABLY YOUR SKIN FELLING TO MUCH LIKE ALWAYS :D
(Venti actually let out a big sigh lol)
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY ARE GONE, JEAN?!"
"Why do I feel a deja vu about all this?"
And there they were, the most influent persons of all Mondstadt discussin about this very serious problem to solve... and a bard (who is actually their god but shhh).
"But, what do we do now? We don't have any idea of-" the bard was interrupted by the youngest girl.
"Master Jean, we must ask to the Traveler for more information, that letter is the only thing we have? Amber asked, her frown hidding her tears.
"Sadly yes, Amber. This is the only thing we have to prepare ourself in any case" Jean said, her untied blond hair flying around.
"What do you mean with 'prepare ourself', Jean?" Diluc asked, his leg shacking with anxiety.
"Well" the witch started, avoiding eye contact.
"Aether said... that probably his Guide... the new found god that had been helping us is now..." Kaeya said, walking around the room. Everyone felt his nerves, because they were just as nervous as him. "It's now corporeal"
"What"
"Corporeal, we can touch them, they are now... With us."
Silence filled the room, holding breaths and silent screams are all the winds can reach.
"Master Jean!" Noelle enter to the room, feeling the heavy vibes of the place, still stay with a anxious face.
"What's wrong, Noelle?" she replaid.
"Umh well..." She took a deep breath, letting it all out in a shout with a bow.
"There's a prisioner teenager who scaped from the bouild with rare magic, they don't have any visions and they act like they were from another world, like Traveler!" a quiet and long time pass, slow and slow and- "Okay I'm going, anything you need just say my name."
She leave, then, a loud shout singing the same song was heard in any corner of Monds.
"THE CREATOR!"
I'M SO DIZZY THIS COULD BE A LOT BETTER BUT THAT'S IT BY NOW, TOMORROW I WILL PUBLIC THE PART 3, BYE :)
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danse--macabre · 1 year ago
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completely unexpected question from me… Tirastarion baby AU :)
LUCIANA TIME
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she is so so so spoiled. my god. tirazel and astarion are raising this girl like a little queen. she's wearing ultra fashionable underdark gucci swiped off raiding drow parties and refashioned into frocks for a little girl; she's got access to an endlessly growing library and a dozen skeletons to play with, before even counting all the visiting wizards and vampire spawn; she wants for nothing except blood. it's not just her parents, too: all of tirazel's and astarion's vampire spawn friends and acquaintances are delighted by her, as she's the first and probably only dhampir baby for centuries and therefore she is Very Special. when's the last time vampires could coo at a baby? she grows up being fawned over by all these deadly immortals. they're her friends and her mentors and her wayward aunts and uncles her father rolls his eyes at.
still, she's aware she's different. while she is raised in the underdark, she does visit the surface occasionally with her mother, old enough that she consciously remembers most of the signs she's different from others: the strict list of rules, of dos and do nots her mother asks her to follow amongst the humans on the surface; sneaking out into the neighbourhoods her mother explicitly told her not to visit to find streets full of bustling food markets and yet only savouring the sense of blood; her (failed) attempts of making her first mortal friends with other children; the time her father accompanied them both, shrouded in a heavy, oppressive cloak, where Luci tried to hold him by the hand to help him along only to realise that hand was burning where the evening sun touched it; her first run-in with a vampire hunter as a teenager. I think while her childhood is largely happy, her adolescence is difficult, because it's about her actually coming to grips with being a daywalker.
she falls in love with swords, aged eleven or twelve, the first time she meets lae'zel (well, it's the second time, but the first time she was a baby). the githyanki visits atop a red dragon with a glittering sword, and luci - who has not been told horror stories about the gith as monsters, whose horrors tend to instead include vigilant clerics and paladins - falls in love a little? with this older woman with an elegant bearing, who carries this amazing sword. i think for the first day or two luci just trails her everywhere, attempting to watch her from a distance by sneaking around as close as she can get without getting caught (which is.... actually something she's rather good at, but she's still caught out by how sharp the gith's senses are for a mortal), but by the end of it she's convinced lae'zel to show her the very basics of how to hold a sword (it did not take much convincing; lae'zel is happy to instruct anyone eager). it's a somewhat... punishing instruction lmao but i think she's still enamoured by the concept of wielding a giant sword.
she learns to fight in the wilds, due to the help of many. astarion teaches her the basics of how to hunt, how to use her growing abilities, etc. in a way she savours - she feels freest when she's out in the wilds with him, & tbh embracing her vampiric heritage has never been a problem for her - it's there there is the least conflict, only the distant worry she's not enough. i think as she gets into her teens and begins having arguments with both her parents (mild ones with astarion; she mostly dunks on him for being lame lmao; more serious ones with tirazel who had different hopes for her child), as well as beginning to feel that her abilities are... not quite up to scratch with a classic vampire's, she looks for other ways she can gain an edge. after meeting lae'zel she is given sword fighting lessons from a number of skilled vampire spawn, however they don't quite stick / quite land. she begins to spar more often with bryn to see if she can learn something; she even speaks to shadowheart about were forms to see if there's much she can learn. i think she really begins to learn though when she spends a summer with karlach - who shows her how to channel her frustration into using a blade and how to swing it decently too.
children always leave the nest. this is a sad story to any parent who doesn't know how to see it as a beginning. luciana was never going to stay and become an apprentice to a promising wizard in shhamath after several years of magical tutelage, no matter what tirazel arranged. the more she came to know luciana, the more she understood this. tirazel wanted to offer luci the world she was denied: she wanted to offer her the tools to become powerful and respected in her own right, but luci never wanted those tools or that kind of power and respect. their world in the underdark, it turns out, is quite small. they live in a small mixed settlement that's close enough to shhamath for utility but far enough not to be governed by it, and is, crucially, not entirely opposed to the local vampire coven, who work amongst it - a highly rare and unorthodox arragnement that likely wouldn't be possible without tirazel's meddling. beyond this, luci knows the wilds of the underdark and the great fortress of spawn where many more of them live (and politick and bicker, her father reminds her), but little else. luci had always wanted to see the wider world she'd only seen in glimpses, the world tirazel knew might have eaten her alive, might not have accepted her, might not have loved her as fiercely as she and astarion and their loved ones had tried. luciana announces her intention to leave to become an adventurer, and there is no argument for once. tirazel knows that to hold onto her now would to be to suffocate her daughter. so tira lets her leave - but not without a lengthy letter expressing how much she, tirazel, loved her, luciana, her daughter. theirs has been a fraught dynamic, but it's this act that is a new beginning. luciana writes back once a month.
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decadence-code · 1 year ago
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Our dress is our answer to a dull world.
In 1953, the major newspapers reported on the sweeping trend in men's fashion across all the towns in Britain - the New Edwardian look. In September a Daily Express headline shortened Edward to Teddy and coined the term 'Teddy Boy'. 'The Working Class Edwardian' were British teenagers who represented the vanguard of youth culture.
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The Teddy Boy is a uniquely British phenomenon. The fashion of the 1950s has its origins in what was a reaction to the austerity imposed by the socialist government in the years following the World War II. The style of dress was addressed, primarily, to the young aristocratic men, but the Great British Teddy Boy is a rebel of conformity and therefore wears a Style. For working class youths, their fashion was not only aesthetic, but also a slap in the face to upper class society in rebellion against the class system.
The female counterpart to Teddy Boys, known as Teddy Girls or Judies, were the punk rock girls of their time. While older English women welcomed the return to femininity and elegance, Teddy Girls, on the contrary, embraced the new unisex trends that the war brought. They wore frock jackets, pencil skirts, rolled-up jeans, three-quarter length trousers (so-called pedal pushers), espadrilles and other shoes without heels.
Like their male counterparts, they wore thin ties with a bow or a scarf with a brooch. Some even carried a long umbrella, imitating a walking cane. Hair played an equally important role. Girls wore their hair cut short, combed into a stylish ponytail or they styled their hair 'Gibson Girl', swept up on top.
Post-war Britain was fertile ground for many subcultures in the second half of the 20th century. It was a time of insecurity, poverty and turmoil, but it was also a time of damn stylish rebels.
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🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀
Find more on edwardianteddyboy.com
photo: Oli Egler and Ken Russell (found on Pinterest)
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ewan-mo · 1 year ago
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Out to a clinic.
Sunday 24th September 
We woke to a grey morning that looked as though it might turn into rain, which, sure enough, it did. I started out with a top and trousers, added a cardi, then added a rather warm fleece. At one stage I thought maybe I should have worn my tights.
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Our driver appeared promptly at 8.15 am, pretty much as the rain was starting. It quickly became quite heavy, and the dirt track down to the main road took some negotiating. We were on our way to Namakwa Clinic run by Mukono Hospital, one of our mental health teams that is really flying. We then spent a wee while waiting for the team, who had an equally challenging drive to the health centre and church at Namakwa.
How to succeed at a Sunday morning mental health clinic without really trying? Look for where the people are – they are at church of course. So the clinic is held at a time when they can both come to church and keep their appointment. 
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The clinic with the road in the foreground.
Lamet, Emmanuel and newly qualified PCO Eseza are three clinical officers for whom I have the greatest affection and admiration. I sat in on the clinic run by Emmanuel and Eseza, while Ewan and Lamet got together over spreadsheets in the back of the vehicle. 
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In keeping with the teaching session we held last week, many of the patients have epilepsy. Straightforward enough if you do the minimum (check number of seizures, adjust the meds, say goodbye) but so much more interesting and useful if you get to know the patient a little better and find out about their lives. And check on the relative who has come with them, perhaps? 
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Many of the children who came have intellectual disability as well as seizures, and some have genetic syndromes. The teaching delivered last week by our friends from Cheshire & Wirral was spot on! One of the Namakwa children needed referral to specialist paediatrics; the relevant specialist also works at the big mental hospital. Emmanuel was confident the child would be properly assessed. I know we have long waiting lists in the NHS now, but sometimes there aren’t even the specialists available in this country.
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A few of the epilepsy patients have mental illness as well. Very few neurologists here, and very limited access to investigations. In the UK we have sizeable neurology departments to look after this group of patients. Here, a significant proportion of the population have epilepsy and many have no access to treatment at all. 
Emmanuel smiled broadly to see one young lady. Last time he saw her she was very excitable, talkative, irritable: now she is calm and contented. Sometimes the medicine is just the thing!  
We had one new patient. You might have almost ‘recognised’ her – she was unkempt but had on a few strings of small beads and bracelets, and a dress that had clearly been almost a party frock but was now grubby and torn. She was carrying in bags what Emmanuel described as her ‘treasures’ – such an appropriate word for the things people might carry around with them.  She said her father had told her to come because she was hearing voices, then later told us her parents were dead. The father she referred to turned out to be the village headman, who was, thankfully, keeping an eye on her. 
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Waiting to be seen.
One attractive young woman was wearing a very pretty dress, like many of the women. Not sure whether they had dressed up for church or clinic, but either would be characteristic. This lass had had an illness like schizophrenia from early on in her life. She grew into a teenage beauty and got pregnant, almost certainly unintentionally. It’s a common outcome when girls aren’t in education, and there were many such pregnancies during Covid, when no children were in school.
Our young lady told the clinic staff about the baby, then disappeared for 2 months. This was the next review: no pregnancy. We don’t know what really happened. I was so impressed today by how our clinical officers were serenely dealing not only mental illness epilepsy and paediatrics, but also assorted medical and surgical conditions, including obs and gynae. 
Several of the patients told me how grateful they were for the clinic and the medicines that made their lives to be more normal including this lady and her son.
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On the veranda I found this small charcoal stove with a pan on top and a bag of charcoal behind.  It is a widely used fuel in towns but not very ecologically friendly.
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After an intense but very interesting morning’s work, we took our colleagues out to lunch. On the whole, Ugandans really enjoy their food. It may be something to do with the lack of food security – if you are a subsistence farmer growing your family’s food and the rains fail, there is nothing to eat. Perhaps it’s not surprising that our young people packed away very substantial platefuls! 
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a good plateful.
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atplblog · 3 months ago
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vyndenim · 1 year ago
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Frill frock for teenage girl
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Its unique design embraces youthful spirit, making it a perfect choice for various occasions. From casual outings to special gatherings, the VYN Denim frill frock for teenage girls is a must-have, epitomizing fashion-forward trends and individuality in youthful attire.
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gyanfashion · 2 years ago
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Vama Fashions Maggam Aari Work Cloth Vaddanam Kamarband Waist Hip belt for Teenagers Girls traditional Dresses (Stretchable Size 22-28 inches only)
Price: (as of – Details) ✓ This Traditional embroidery maggam Aari work Cloth Saree Belt chain Kamarband Kamarpatta is an accessory that adds charm to the Waist of a Teenager Girls Body. For ages, it has ruled the fashion world with its beautiful designs and our Kamarband exquisite look for Traditional South Indian Dresses like Salwar Kurtis Lehanga Choli Frocks & Half Saree & even jeans also ✓…
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thatscarletflycatcher · 2 years ago
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I hate the modernity in 2019 little women. It's fine if you're doing a bridgerton or Dickinson type of thing. But in little women it just feels wrong.
Like how jo and laurie are so touchy.
Or how it the scene where meg twists her foot at the ball and they bring her home, jo starts to strip down her clothes right in front of him. And marmee is all like, call me mother! Mind you, this is the first time laurie has met all of them.
None of it is time appropriate. I won't talk about the costumes or loose hair cause it has already been covered by costume reviewers on youtube. (The movie did NOT deserve the oscar for costumes.)
Also, am I the only one who doesn't like the casting in this movie?!
Saoirse Ronan is fine. She's no Winona Ryder but that's okay.
Florence is an excellent actress but with her heavy voice it absolutely took me out of the moment whenever she played a 12 year old amy. It just looked like a fully grown adult woman, in a child's frock, acting like a child.
Timothee chalamet was meh. Or more correctly, the writing for laurie was meh. And he does not look like a father of a child at the end of the movie.
Laura Dern. I think she was good but the writing failed her at times. There was no gravitas to her character. She was too smiley. And too modern.
Emma Watson feels like emma watson in all her roles.
Rest of the characters, beth, professor bhaer... utterly forgettable.
Also it's my personal view that little women as a story works best in a linear format. It's a journey you go on with the girls and see them grow in more ways than one. Which is why the back and forth between childhood and adulthood was lost on me.
Hi, anon! That's a lot to unpack! XD
I think the modernity is jarring to me because it is so so intentional. Like it is screaming LIKE ME BECAUSE I'M HYPE AND MODERN. And at that point, make it a modern day version. But Sony wanted not modern day version, no, Sony wanted juicy juicy American classic period drama cash grab! This, in my opinion, explains many, many things about this movie. The weird meta non meta ending, Jo is asexual but she's also devastated that she cannot marry Laurie, yay girlboss Amy but also you should like her because she cannot be liberated like Jo, etc, etc, etc.
I agree with your assessment of the characters, mostly. I actually think Ronan would have been a far better casting for Amy and Pugh for Jo. There's a heaviness of presence and a matter-of-factness to Florence Pugh that Saoirse Ronan utterly lacks (her efforts at appearing rough and careless remind me of this:
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But all that sort of ethereal yet sharp vibe that Amy has? would have suited well (and she's a natural blonde too!)
But. You know. Greta ships Saorise/Timothee, I guess.
I also very much liked Eliza Scanlen as Beth. She was given very little to work with, but she left an impression on me (we can debate till tomorrow if the characterization was right, but that's another matter).
I actually think Little Women can be done in altered timeline; the 2018 modern movie, IMO, did it well. It took as pivotal element the castles in the air (the dreams the sisters and Laurie have as teenagers and who they think they will be in a decade), focused on Jo as the main narrative pov (a story built on flashbacks needs someone to be the one reminiscing the past, generally speaking, we don't talk about Tenet), and kept working on how the past shaped the present, and how it can also bring a light on the way to the future. The problem with the way 2019 does the altered timeline is that it is unfocused and meandering. It doesn't know why it is going back and forth between past and present. In this movie it is just a gimmick because Christopher Nolan does it, I guess, and that makes his movies masterpieces or something. Some of the transitions are forced and hackneyed (from Beth's recovery to Beth's death) and others are just... random (from a sleeping Amy to a sleeping Beth).
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sims-half-crazy · 2 years ago
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I posted 242 times in 2022
That's 62 more posts than 2021!
198 posts created (82%)
44 posts reblogged (18%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@twentiethcenturysims
@antiquatedplumbobs
@ivyandink
@happylifesims
@anachrosims
I tagged 212 of my posts in 2022
Only 12% of my posts had no tags
#ts4 decades challenge - 144 posts
#sims 4 historical - 141 posts
#ts4 historical - 140 posts
#sims4 - 131 posts
#sims 4 - 128 posts
#sims 4 screenshots - 125 posts
#decades challenge - 117 posts
#waldrop records - 115 posts
#waldrop gen 3 - 98 posts
#waldrop gen 2 - 86 posts
Longest Tag: 44 characters
#wanted to build a small french inspired town
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
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May 16, 1910
Dearest sister,
I hope things are well there. We celebrated Margaret's thirteenth birthday a few days ago. Hard to believe the two oldest are teenagers now. Daisy took her shopping for more appropriate frocks and I can't believe how grown up she looks.
See the full post
15 notes - Posted February 20, 2022
#4
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March 3, 1918
**excerpt from Margaret's private diary**
The horror of war is something I never want to see again. There are so many men who made the voyage back to Simerica only to die at the hands of infection or influenza. It's all I can do to keep my hands from being rubbed raw from all the handwashing I do.
We have a new patient. We didn't think he'd make it through the first night, but he did. He'd been caught in an attack with mustard gas and then a nearby shell threw flaming debris at him. He's more bandage than skin at this point. I sing to him. I sing to all the patients. it soothes them, and keeps me in practice. He woke one night while I was tending him, and I had the unfortunate task of telling him that he was never going to regain the sight in his left eye. I told him that he would heal and that the doctors were hopeful that the scarring wouldn't be too bad. He asked that we pray, so I grabbed his hand and said a small, quick prayer with him.
He then introduced himself as Otho Petrie Roper and that his family immigrated here before he was born from Finland. He tells me stories that his mother and father told him. He's quite engaging. I feel so terribly that he's in such pain as he heals, but I'm glad for the chance to lessen his pain with my company and care.
15 notes - Posted March 14, 2022
#3
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See the full post
15 notes - Posted November 16, 2022
#2
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January 14, 1911
I had to tell the girls that their mother would need more help over the next few weeks. I don't know rightly know what happened, Daisy is a competant cook and knows her way around the kitchen but she'd been complaining that the stove was acting funny of late. I should have paid more heed to what she was saying. The dadgum thing caught fire and in her attempts to put it out Daisy was burned. Not badly but her arm is burned. I don't know how badly she'll scar, but that's not even the worst of it. She was with child. We had no idea. She didn't even think she could get pregnant anymore; it's been so long since Josephine was born. My poor Daisy has had such terrible bleeding that the doctor put her on bedrest for the next week.
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thisaliennerd · 2 years ago
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butterflies in my stomach, turmoil in my mind
rating: g
pairing: louise belcher & millie frock, louise belcher/rudy stieblitz
chapter: 1/1
word count: 1.6k
Louise is struggling with being a teenager. A few months ago, Millie confessed she had a crush on Louise. Now, despite all efforts to move past it, Louise finds herself dragging back up some hard feelings.
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Louise loves hanging out with Millie. She's a little nuts, but she gets Louise in a way that no one else really does. Part of her regrets that she spent so much time pushing Millie's friendship away, but she likes how their relationship has developed over the past few years. 
Millie was the first girl (aside from Tina) that she’d considered a friend, and while she still has to work on some of her issues around femininity and female friendships, she does respect how Millie has managed to open her eyes to the value of unabashedly loving being feminine. 
Her head is in Millie's lap, and Millie is playing with her hair, and Louise is struck by the casual intimacy of it. It used to be scary, trusting people outside of her immediate family with her vulnerability like this, but now it feels so natural. Like she's adding people to her little family. 
Millie's telling a story about her childhood dog that Louise is only half paying attention to when Louise's phone dings.
It's a text from Rudy, “Hey Lou! I loved your song in practice today! You should totally sing more. Your voice is so good!”
Louise's stomach flips and she immediately feels embarrassed at how much the compliment affects her. 
"Who's that?" Millie asks.
It's a casual question, she's genuinely asking, but it makes the shame in Louise's chest flare. 
"No one," Louise says, just a little too fast, dropping her phone. 
Millie raises an eyebrow, "Uh huh…"
Louise's face blares even redder, and she sighs, "Sorry, it was just Rudy. I've been working on an original song, and I showed it to the band for the first time today. He was just texting to say he liked it."
"Oh." 
Louise's heart sinks at Millie's muted response. She knows Millie hates it when she dances around Rudy in conversation. She sits up and looks at Millie. 
"Sorry," Louise grimaces. 
"It's whatever Louise," Millie shrugs, feigning casualty, but she's clearly hurt. 
Louise hates this part of being a teenager. Honestly, she hates most of being a teenager, but this part stings the most. The fact that all their feelings are mixed up in this weird puberty soup and no matter what, someone ends up getting hurt. 
"Millie…" Louise starts, but she doesn’t get very far. 
"It's fine Louise," Millie cuts her off. "Let's just move on. Please."
Louise sighs, but assents, slipping into a story about her newest Burobu card. 
Louise doesn't mean to act weird around Millie when it comes to Rudy, but it's so complicated now. A few months ago, Millie had confessed that she likes Louise, like like-likes her, and ever since then, Louise can't help overthinking how she talks to Millie about him. 
Of course, that's the problem. Louise knows that the more she dances around it, the worse she makes it. Louise can't help but replay that conversation in her head as Millie takes over in the real world. 
They'd been at Millie's house, studying for tomorrow's Spanish test, when Louise had caught Millie staring at her out of the corner of her eye. 
"Do I have something on my face?" Louise had quipped.
To her surprise, Millie had gone bright red. "No, sorry I just…n-nothing" Millie stammered. 
"What?" 
At that moment, Louise had felt the tone in the room shift. Millie wasn't the type of person to get embarrassed. She was passionate to a fault, and never apologized for who she was, so to see her…scared? or ashamed? was unsettling. 
Millie looked down at her hands, picking at her hangnails. 
"Millie, what's going on?" She had been genuinely worried. 
Millie sighed, "I…I like you."
"Uh…I like you too?" Louise had chuckled awkwardly. Part of her had known what was coming. 
"No," Millie had looked up at Louise. Even in the memory Louise could feel them burning into her. "I like you. Like…I like-like you." Millie had cringed at the phrase as it came out of her mouth. "I mean, I have a crush. I guess. On you"
"Oh," Louise hadn’t known what else to say. 
"Yeah," Millie was quiet. 
"Um…" Louise had felt sick. Not because of what Millie said, she didn’t care about that. Because of how Millie was looking down at her hands like she was so scared of what Louise was going to say next.
Millie didn’t look up, "Look, I don't expect you to feel the same way about me. I know you like Rudy. I just…I just wanted you to know."
"I don't…" the protest against Millie's accusation had died on her lips. It wasn't the time for that. Plus if there was anyone who could tell when she was lying, it was Millie. "Mils…I don't like you like that," Millie still hadn’t looked up, so Louise had just powered forward. "But, you're one of my best friends. Maybe my best friend, and that doesn't change for me."
Millie had looked up at Louise, and she saw just a little bit of her fear melt away. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Louise had smiled.
They'd talked for hours after that. All pretense of studying abandoned. They talked about liking girls and crushes and life, and it was like nothing had happened. But then, as it so often does nowadays (embarrassingly), Louise's mind had drifted to Rudy. 
Should she hide how she feels about him in front of Millie now? More than she already was? Or should she just act like nothing is different? Clearly that's what Millie wants, but she doesn't want to hurt Millie's feelings. A montage of all the times Rudy had pined over Chloe in front of her had played though Louise's mind. 
 "Um, Mils?" Louise had started cautiously. 
"What's up?” Millie’s voice had been casual, but Louise could tell she was nervous.
"You know how you said that thing…about…Rudy…?" Millie's face was inscrutable. Louise had plowed forward, her words tumbling out like an avalanche, impossible to stop once they’d started. "Well, hypothetically, if you were right about that, which I'm not saying that you are, but if you were, would you want me to avoid talking about that kind of thing around you?"
Instantly Louise had known it was the wrong thing to ask. Millie stiffened, and Louise had watched her practiced mask of indifference settle back over her face. Millie was complicated, but after four years of friendship, Louise could read her pretty well. 
Millie’s default is passionate expression, but when someone rejects her (which turns out to be surprisingly easy, despite the seeming lack of social awareness she had displayed early on in their relationship) she shuts it off. Boards herself up, so she doesn’t have to confront how other people really feel about her. 
Even though she hadn’t intended it that way, to Millie, Louise’s question meant that her view of Millie had changed. To her, that was a rejection, maybe even more than the actual rejection. Millie wasn’t surprised by Louise not liking her back. She’d expected as much, but her real fear was their friendship changing.
However important Millie was to Louise, Louise knew she was tenfold for Millie. Millie confessed to her once that Louise was her only real friend. She gets along with Louise’s friends, but she said Louise was the only person that really tried to understand her. To lose that, would be devastating. 
“Millie, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it. I just don’t want to hurt your feelings.” Louise had paused, considering whether to voice her next thought aloud. “I know how hard it is to hear someone you like talking about their crush.”
That had cracked Millie’s mask a bit, but Louise had seen a flicker of hurt on her face too. 
“I get it Louise, it’s fine,” Millie brushed her off. 
“Millie,” Louise pushed.
“What?”
“It’s still me. It’s still us.”
“Yeah that’s what I’m afraid of,” Millie had laughed bitterly. Louise frowned. Millie sighed, “Louise, I don’t want this to change anything. Tell me, don’t tell me, just don’t treat me like I’m going to break.”
“Ok, yeah,” Louise had nodded solemnly, “I can deal with that.”
Except it turned out that that was easier said than done, and here she was, three months later, in the exact same position. 
“I’m sorry Mills. Really, I am. I didn’t mean it like that. I would have hid that from anyone.” It was technically true, but definitely misleading.
“Uh huh,” Millie can see right through her.
“Ok, you’re right,” Louise concedes. “I’m sorry. I just don’t like hurting your feelings.”
Millie rolls her eyes, “I know that Louise, but we’re friends.”
“Yeah,” Louise agrees sheepishly. Millie’s right. She just needs to treat Millie like a friend. “Here,” Louise tosses her phone over to Millie. “Guess I should probably respond, huh?”
Millie quickly scans the text and laughs. It’s a natural laugh, the rest of her mask crumbling. She looks up at Louise, raising an eyebrow, “Yeah, you should. He so likes you.”
“Please, his head is so far up Chloe Barbash’s ass…” Louise trails off.
“Yeah, sure,” Millie laughs. “Well come on then. Tell me about your song, Lou,” Millie teases, grinning impishly. She tosses Louise’s phone back to her. 
“Shut up,” Louise rolls her eyes, but her cheeks flare as her eyes linger on his text. 
And just like that, the tension evaporates as quickly as it came on. They’re laughing, joking, telling stories. Louise sings a bit of her song for Millie, her head in Millie’s lap. Puberty sucks, but if anything can be said for sure, Louise isn’t the type to let a stupid boy get in between her and her friends. 
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boneboughs · 3 years ago
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This isn’t quite right. You’ve lived this before. Lingering on memories will do you no good.
...Go Back to the Present...
Have you seen WISTERIA ADDLER around Faerune? They’re a WEREWOLF who REJECTS restoring the Seelie Court. People have heard they’re WELCOMING, KIND HEARTED, ALTRUISTIC but can also be STUBBORN, SHORT TEMPERED, BLUNT. We’ll see where they fall when the revolution arrives, but until then they can be found working as a COUNCIL ELDER. 
NAME: Wisteria Amos Addler Nee Pendleton Aliases: Wis (Primary), Pidge (Wild Sixth) Age: 27 (June 6th) Affiliations: Wild Sixth Biker Gang, The Bloodboughs Pack, Faerune City Council, Mystic River Pack (Formerly) Occupation: Council Elder Gender/Pronouns: Trans man, He/Him Sexuality: Pansexual, likely Panromantic, but has only been with men. Species: Werewolf (Arctic Wolf) Quirks: ears, nose and lip pierced, heavy tattoos, black dyed hair (naturally blonde). Hard of hearing in his right ear with a cochlear implant, deaf on the left, Missing his right pinkie and left leg below the knee, owns several prosthetic legs, but his primary limb is polished black metal depicting a wisteria bough growing up from the bottom corner and gold swirls carved into the main plate to lighten the load with a combination ‘foot’ that can either be used to wear shoes as normal, or clip into the foot rest of his bike. A single, sharpened steel fang implant on the left of his mouth, longer than a natural canine tooth- more like that of a wolf.
BIOGRAPHY
tw: Violence, bomb mention
Judging this book by its cover is a resolutely foolish choice. Born to Cade and Aurora Pendleton in Boston, Massachusetts on a cool June night, Wisteria Pendleton was a strong, healthy little girl, blessed under a brilliant full moon and a sky of stars, a fact that his father often bragged about to any of the pack that held still long enough to listen. The youngest child of six, Wisteria worked tirelessly to keep pace with his brothers and sisters in the culture he’d been born into. The Mystic River wolves were a small, comfortable unit settled in the downtown area, and while the members of the pack were never quite what one would consider ‘rich’, they rarely, if ever, wanted for anything thanks to a work ethic that bled through every aspect of their little family unit: The things you want are only a concerted effort and some time away.
His childhood was relatively normal, often treated with kid gloves due to his position in the family, Wisteria’s personality was easily the most eye-catching part of him. A daredevil with a passion for thrills, he spent much of his time climbing around on fire escapes and the tops of cars at his father’s garage while his mother begged him to come down and keep his clothes nice. Frequently frocked in pinks and pastels and taken to spend playdates with the other little girls of the pack, Wisteria’s talents laid heavily with his mother’s own- a tailor and seamstress who taught her child from an early age how to work with fabric and other crafts, a skillset that benefitted him greatly in his rebellious teenage years, cutting shirts to pieces only to put them back together in a patchwork with needle and thread and safety pins. It was his early teens that saw his family packing up and moving to Faerune, a fight with the alpha of the pack leading to his father being excommunicated, and torn between being packless, or simply relocating, they chose the latter.
Faerune was not a difficult adjustment for Wisteria. A capable student, he threw himself into his studies and quickly became fast friends with his classmates, most notable, a Mastiff familiar by the name of Arturo Addler. He was kind-hearted and despite his odd sense of dress, relatively popular. He clung hard to his love of excitment and adventure, often dragging his little crew of friends out on excursions through parts of the city he knew from job-hunting trips with his parents. It was through these friends he eventually came to join the Bloodboughs, a massive, brutal and blood hungry pack from the central part of the city led by a one Elowyn Testa. While his family initially resisted the idea, they too, eventually gave her their loyalty, preferring to have a pack to lean on than the uncertainty of going it alone. With a core group of friends and a pack to call his own, Wisteria very well could have spent the rest of his life in relative comfort, finish school and get a standard 9-5.
But for the first of many times, Wis would choose the path less traveled. Fifteen was a tumultuous age, his first shift, puberty, and the awareness that he wasn’t, in fact, a girl. His family, as well as the pack that had taken him in was accepting of him upon coming out, and none were in his corner as staunchly as Arturo, the pair having grown only closer with the revelation. But this fact, and the cost of what it meant to be a self-made man would lead him into the company of the Wild Sixth. An all supernaturals biker gang, the Sixth operated in the shadows of Faerune, offering their protection for a price to the human-owned businesses from their fellow supers, as well as a number of other community improvement projects for the downtrodden and impoverished of the city- frequently covering for their drug running work behind the scenes. Wisteria was one such behind the scenes worker, running drugs for the higher-ups in the gang thanks to his ability to think on his feet and unassuming appearance.
He balanced school and the Sixth as capably as a teenage boy could, funding his hormone treatments through ill-gotten gains and eventually confessing his feelings to Arturo- Married only a year out of high school. Top surgery and tattoos to feel more at home in his skin, promotions in the gang and the pack to account for his reliability and intelligence, and all the while, a relationship with his soulmate, Wis’ life was comfortable, and though he took issue with the way people were treated time and again by the council- hybrid friends overlooked and treated as lesser, parties thrown to cover up for their sins, he was happy, even serving community service sentences out with no complaints and a smile on his face.
That wouldn’t last forever. He got four years. A territory clash between the now far more cocky Bloodboughs and a rival pack would paint a target on the backs of his alphas, and despite their best efforts, they were slain at the teeth of another. A rival biker gang would spell the end of the vampire heading the Sixth, and a bombing of their club would take everything from Wisteria. Half the Sixth sat in ruin, Arturo’s body lay still beside him, and his leg was ripped to pieces below the knee. staring up from the rubble of the clubhouse, the moon shining down on his face once more, Wisteria was born again. It took time, to grow used to his prosthetic, to grow beyond the gaping wound in his heart where Arturo used to fill him with song and light. He hardened, and in his darkest moments, he remembered that there were people worse off than him who needed lifting.
A bid for council was easy enough. He headed a large enough pack in the absence of Eowyn, and had already brought a number of his fellow supernaturals together under the banner of the Wild Sixth, recovering in the 4 years since the incident at the club to grow even larger, moving beyond their criminal activities in favor of community outreach beneath Wis’ leadership, facts that, despite his youth, earned him a place on the council where he sits today.
Wisteria still isn’t sure if he made the right decision, but old wounds heal slowly, and this distraction is just what he needs.
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maddie-grove · 3 years ago
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Little Book Review: Picnic at Hanging Rock
Author: Joan Lindsay.
Publication Date: 1967.
Genre: Historical fiction/horror.
Premise: It's a beautiful day in 1900 Australia, and there is a horrible rock. The teenage girls of hidebound Appleyard College are happy, though, to go on a field trip to observe nature and eat outdoors. Little do they know that three students and a teacher will disappear into thin air, or that this incident will have wide-ranging implications for many more of their number.
Thoughts: October may be the home of Halloween, but sometimes I think August is the creepiest month. Summer is dying, the land is dried out from the heat, and everyone is drained and tired of the season. (It helps that I live in the southern US, where October brings a blessed end to the heat and makes everyone perk up.) Since Australia is in the Southern Hemisphere, its February is like my August, or so I understand. Picnic at Hanging Rock definitely has that feel. The novel opens with a plethora of detail about daily life at the insular girls' boarding school: white frocks, Victorian knick-knacks, Valentine cards, crushes, jealousy. The weather is beautiful, and the girls are so happy to peel off their gloves. There are hints of the cataclysmic conflicts to come, but they're all so tiny now.
Then the horror comes--or, rather, three types of horror. The first is the eerie vanishing of three popular older students and a likably eccentric maths teacher. If you just read the book as it was published, the cause of their disappearance isn't clear, but it's obvious that the landscape has a strong, mysterious power that none of the characters are equipped to deal with. The second is how the disappearance brings out the worst in so many people. Mrs. Appleyard, merely stuffy and harsh at first, commits acts of great cruelty out of panic and irritation, and many other characters are eaten up with rage and suspicion. The third is fate. Characters get married, leave the country, fall in love, go bankrupt, strike it rich, have meltdowns, and die as a result of the initial incident at Hanging Rock, and most of them had no reason to suspect the directions their lives would take on that day. Watching these events unfold is hypnotic and unsettling.
Hot Goodreads Take: "If you like endless descriptions of rocks and an overuse of the word 'bracken' then this one's for you," warns one reader. I am fond of some bracken, it must be said.
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kaaras-adaar · 4 years ago
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Kaaras + Lingerie/Crossdressing
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// I wanted to go more in depth about Kaaras and cross dressing in the bedroom. I had a big post about Kaaras and lingerie specific, but I can no longer find it.  First of all, that’s what I want to make clear: this is not something Kaaras does outside of the bedroom, this isn’t something that Kaaras does on a daily basis, it IS a sexual thing. It is something that causes and stirs sexual arousal out of him, not something that he would do on a day to day basis.
Under a cut for obvious reasons.
Cross dressing for Kaaras has nothing to do with identity. He is a cis male. Whilst he’s exceptionally open minded about those who are not cis, Kaaras does consider himself a male and identifies as a man, but he is also very aware of his femininity and need to feel soft. He’s comfortable with his masculinity, and if people were to insult him and call him a “girl” in some kind derogatory way, he’d not be offended. Kaaras believes women are equal to men and should be seen as such. He grew up with women, knows that they can be strong willed and physically strong and adept as well. He does not see softness as “only feminine” nor does he see hardness as “only masculine”. He believes people are PEOPLE, and all that gender stereotype bullshit is exactly that: bullshit. It’s not important to him and he doesn’t really care to think about it (except for equality of course).
However, you do also have to remember that Kaaras grew up around certain ideas and ideals. Even as a sheltered individual, he was subject to Fereldan culture and human customs. That does include certain dress codes.
There’s a vague line between this, because in medieval periods (such as Thedas), things like robes, peasant clothes, frocks and tunics are pretty unisex. This is why it doesn’t really extend to things like that. Kaaras grew up wearing peasant clothes, which were generally a dress. One long item of clothing tied off at the waist (I also have a post about KILT WEARING, too, but I’m not going to go into that here).
Kaaras’ cross dressing is lingerie/undergarment specific. These are clothes that are exclusive to women in a general understanding. These are items specifically labelled for women, because they are shaped for their bodies (underwear, stockings, bras, corsets etc). The idea is to show femininity, to capture it and make one feel, well… ultimately sexy.  
This was something Kaaras found out at a young age. When his father died, he was the only male of the household, between his mother, his adopted younger sister and his mentor. This was an exceptionally difficult time for Kaaras because he was just blooming into his teenage years (his father died when he was 12). It means Kaaras had a really difficult time coming to terms with his body, because he felt different from the women around him. He felt like they wouldn’t understand him, and ultimately, this was when Kaaras began to close himself off to his mother a lot. He began to feel uncomfortable and insecure about himself because he didn’t have any male influence anymore. He already lacked in friends because of him being a qunari, so he really didn’t have anyone to help him discover himself until a later age (that’ll be left for a different post that will go into Kaaras and his alcoholism).
Like a lot of curious children, it did mean Kaaras would sneak into his parent’s room to rummage through the cliches of makeup and underwear. That’s pretty much how Kaaras found out he enjoyed wearing womens clothes. It was innocent enough at first, of course, he was young and not really sexually matured. But it was the foundation of where this ‘kink’ came from.
As an older teenager, Kaaras began to realise that this stirred sexual arousal in him. Especially when he was involved with female lovers for the night. Being drunk gave him the confidence to fool around more, to explore and discover himself without being embarrassed about it. Most of Kaaras’ sexual experience is, unfortunately, based off many drunk nights–until his past lover. That was when Kaaras REALLY got to explore and discover himself.
Kaaras is a complicated personal when it comes to much about him. He’s simple and yet not in many ways. His sexuality is a long, long road of self discovery, pain and chaos, and that’s not all due to the fact that he suffers PGAD (PSAS). There are a lot of contributing factors that one may never think about when they see Kaaras as the man he has grown to become now.
Wearing women’s clothes became something of a dirty little secret that he has been very ashamed to speak about and express, because he had in his head the idea that it is not ‘normal’ for him to enjoy it. Kaaras is a hypocrite in the fact that he is so open and willing to accept OTHERS but never HIMSELF, because he’s grown up with so much self hatred and such a NEGATIVE image of himself, so these are all things that make him feel even worse about himself in the eye of the public.
But lingerie, dressing in women’s underthings, makes him feel gracious, makes him have this idea of soft, makes femininity that he can finally see and feel in himself that no one else can and/or will. This isn’t something he will open up about to just anyone, this is something that he will only expose to someone he trusts will accept him (and even then, he has a lot of fear and shame in the whole thing). This also doesn’t mean Kaaras doesn’t think men can be feminine and beautiful, he does, remember, he just has a lot of internal hate towards himself, and being told that he is an ugly savage oxman all his life doesn’t help with his image issues. Kaaras is a very insecure person, crippling so at times. But his clothes? They speak for him. And that doesn’t just mean the lingerie in the bedroom, but clothes in general help Kaaras EXPRESS himself. They always have. They make him feel stronger, they make him feel professional when needed, they make him feel practical. He often does not make his suffering known, or even his happiness at times, but his clothes are a form of expression for him, which is one of the reasons why he very much agrees with Vivienne that they should LOOK the part if people wish to take them seriously, despite him being a commoner.
Lastly, I should mention while Kaaras certainly enjoys others wearing lingerie in the bedroom, this kink may never involve them. This is something he does for himself, and does not need or require someone else to be involved. If your muse is willing, then that’s certainly great! He would love to be able to express himself and feel sensual in the bedroom with his lover, it’s a real bonus to have that support and care, but Kaaras also is very used to the fact that this is a solo act. Something he enjoys doing in the comfort of his own self.
At the end of the day, this is not something easy for Kaaras. This is something that’s come from a background of confusion, self hate and being sheltered. Even if Kaaras has an exceptionally supportive family, Kaaras struggled to express himself and open up once his father died, shutting his mother out of a lot of his life. His sister only knows by accident, and his mother has only suspected, but does not push her son to speak what he is not comfortable with. When/if she finds out, she would be willing to make Kaaras the most beautiful crossdresser because she’s so supportive of her children.
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vyndenim · 1 year ago
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Stylish Denim Fashion for Kids and Teens
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Introduction
Even as the fashion industry as a whole undergoes constant change, denim's popularity endures through generations. The Denim Flared Sleeve Frock for Kids and the Denim Cami Dress for Teen Girls are two new offerings from the respected online fashion shop Vyndenim.com, which aims to meet the fashion demands of the younger generation. This 1000-word analysis delves into the specifics of the cutting-edge garments' construction, detailing, and general attractiveness.
Girls' and Boys' Flared-Sleeve Denim Dresses
An adorable addition to the closet of any young trendsetter is the Denim Flared Sleeve Frock for Kids. Each and every aspect of this adorable dress was carefully considered to provide your little one with the best possible fit and wearability.
Elements of Design:
The dress's flared sleeves are its most striking feature, lending a carefree, bohemian air to the dress's otherwise traditional denim construction. It's ideal for spinning and dancing because to the fluidity and elegance conveyed by the sleeves.
There is a series of chic buttons along the front of the dress, making it both fast and simple to put on and take off.
The dress's appealing cut and the ease it affords energetic children thanks to the empire waistline make it a great choice for special occasions. Because of this, you may walk about in comfort while still looking great.
Subtle pleats embellish the skirt of the dress, lending a feminine look to the overall ensemble. When your child walks or runs, the pleats on this skirt will whirl around her in a cute way.
Vyndenim.com values attention to detail, which is why they stitch in contrasting thread. This dress is expertly made, and the contrast stitching really sets it out.
The Quality of the Materials and Their Longevity
The high quality denim used in its construction ensures that this dress will last for many seasons. Given its durability, denim is a great fabric for youngsters who are often on the go.
Versatility:
You may dress up or dress down the Denim Flared Sleeve Frock depending on the occasion. Your kid will look adorable in this dress at the park or at a birthday celebration.
Young Women's Denim Cami Dress
Vyndenim.com introduces the Denim Cami Dress for the teen girl who is always one step ahead of the fashion curve. This dress has an air of carefree chic that will appeal to today's fashion-forward youth.
Elements of Design:
The traditional cami shape bodice of the Denim Cami Dress ensures a loose and comfortable fit. It's reminiscent of the '90s fashion that's making a comeback.
As the dress's spaghetti straps are fully adjustable, it may be worn by a wide range of women. A comfortable and adaptable design is guaranteed by these thoughtful touches.
The dress has an A-line design, which works well on a wide range of body types and conveys a feeling of motion. The way it flows around the body is quite flattering.
This dress, like its younger cousin, features a chic button-up front that elevates the otherwise laid-back denim material.
Convenient and stylish, the pockets on both sides are a must-have. Modern teen women may now carry their basics in style.
The Quality of the Materials and Their Longevity
This dress is made from durable, high-quality denim, so it's soft, comfy, and ready for whatever a teenager may throw at it. Due to its high quality, the denim won't fade or lose its form after being worn and washed a few times.
Versatility:
The Denim Cami Dress is an adaptable staple that works well for both casual and formal occasions. Put on some statement jewelry and high heels to dress it up for a night on the town, or wear it with sneakers for a laid-back day out.
Conclusion
Both the Denim Flared Sleeve Frock for Kids and the Denim Cami Dress for Teen Girls found at Vyndenim.com are excellent examples of this ideal synthesis of fashion, function, and longevity. These denim garments are made with the active lifestyles of today's youth in mind, with enough of room for them to play and express themselves without restricting their freedom of movement. Vyndenim.com provides children and teenagers with apparel that is more than simply a means to cover their bodies; the finest denim materials and careful attention to detail make each piece an individual statement. Look into these new denim designs to give your kids the self-assurance that comes from wearing something contemporary.
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birdwonder · 5 years ago
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Hey, I was just wondering could you do a Phantom Blood Dio x female reader where they sneak around everyone's backs to be together and pretend they don't get along when with others? Thank you and have a wonderful day.
|| Love the request ! This is going to be set before Dio puts on the stone mask and George’s death, but both he, Joseph and the reader are young adults.
Phantom Blood Dio | Behind Closed Doors
“Come now, Dio, certainly Lady [L/N] isn’t as irksome as you claim her to be,” the calm yet mildly concerned voice of George Joestar spoke, a heavy sigh following his speech as the stubborn frown upon Dio Brando’s lips refused to falter or leave.
The blond crossed his arms tightly around his chest, refusing to directly face the man that he had taken in him despite his need to show him the upmost respect.  “I have told you repeatedly father, that ... impudent girl has no tact nor manners to her high end name! She is a thorn in my side no matter how pretty her petals may be.” He spoke with such disdain and venom in his voice that he would believe the older man to be brain dead to not understand how he felt about you.
The ageing father of both Joseph Joestar and Dio Brando pinched the bridge of his nose slightly, a hand gripping his cane as he tried to recall exactly when the feud between [F/N] and Dio had came to be. 
“But father! I don’t want to be betrothed to some girl I’ve never met,” a younger, yet still just as well mannered as now, Dio complained, internally retching at the idea that George was attempting to have him marry some unacquainted, noble child who was probably as juvenile and pretentious as all the other high standing  sons and daughters he had met through his adopted father’s parties.
“Dio I am only doing this so that finding someone to wed won’t be a concern in the future,” his father attempted to explain, placing a gentle hand on the teenager’s shoulder, “you have shown no interest in any other young females that you have met, or in finding someone to love at all!”
With a huff, Dio continued to desperately convey why an arranged marriage was out of the question, “what if I wholeheartedly dislike her, hm? What if she talks too loud or flirts with other men behind my back or doesn’t even like me?”
“None of which will happen, Dio. Lady [F/N] is a polite, upstanding girl who is always happy to greet me when I visit her family’s home. Imagine coming home from work to a beautiful, welcoming smile? I’m sure that’s any man’s dream.” 
The blond quietly scoffed, as to not insult his father directly, and refused to listen to any more reasoning. George did nothing to pester him further however, a bright smile on his mouth as he gestured towards the door of their home where a butler was approaching and starting to open. “No matter, she should be here now! Look smart now, Dio, and do try to smile a little.”
Dio was not ready to be meeting her right now. Or at any point in time for that matter, but especially not now. With slightly widened, golden eyes he glanced over to see that the doors were now open and two figures were entering. A woman who was definitely close to George’s age, if not a few years younger, and a man around the same age too, both dressed as fine as aristocrats as if they were attending a meeting with the queen. ‘Rich people. Too much money for their own good,’ Dio thought, looking the presumed couple with a hidden disgust. 
“Ah, if it isn’t the great [L/N]’s! Looking as dashing as ever,” George greeted with open arms, only to then shake the man’s hand with a hearty laugh and ‘good day’ , afterwards politely kissing the woman’s gloved hand. 
“I’m sorry if we have kept you long, our little flower was a little difficult to convince to come, I think it’s just a young woman’s time where she’s too bashful to talk to a man face to face,” the woman joked, a light-hearted look and sound to her as she side stepped from her husband, hands moved to gently push a third person in front of her.
There, stood in a neutral pink frock, was a fairly beautiful girl, hair pinned, neatly teased and brushed back to be styled into a perfect bun, with the small  exception of a few strands purposefully let loose to carefully frame the delicate face of a young lady. Her eyes seemed to travel anywhere but somebody’s face, as her hands laced in front of her fiddled tenuously. 
Even with an averted gaze, Dio could tell that her eyes had a pretty look to them, though he couldn’t tell if it was the colour or how long her lashes were, or if it was even something as trivial as her eye shape altogether. No. It couldn’t be any of it! She was just some girl, nothing about her was special at all!
“This is [F/N], our little diamond girl, she is so enthusiastic to be meeting your son, Dio. I can already tell the two of them will be make for a great pair!” The man introduced, something Dio was quick to disagree with in his head. He hadn’t so much as made eye contact with the girl yet and they assume they would be perfect, how stupid.
After some encouraging from her parents to say hello, she finally looked directly at the other teenager, eyes scanning him from his shoes all to way to the top of his head. It made him feel a little awkward. It was like she was judging him in her head, or analysing every detail of him, while most women he knew just threw themselves at him in an instant. 
“He’s nothing special. I don’t see why I have to marry him,” she finally said, monotone and blunt, eyes dull and general expression no different. Dio almost choked in response, gawking momentarily at your words.
“Young lady! You should not speak about your future husband in such a manner,” her father scolded while the mother gasped and looked down at her with disappointment.
Similar to Dio’s attitude earlier, [F/N] huffed and continued to speak tersely, “future husband or no, he’s just some child. I don’t even want to be here!” 
Something in her had seemed to snap as in the next second, she had spun on her heel and made a bee-line for the front door, dashing outside to who knows where.
Instantly, both of the parents began to apologise on behalf of their daughter, even bowing their heads in shame to which George reassured them that it was no problem. Dio was only standing there, staring at the ghost of where the girl once was near the door and hummed to himself with thought. It didn’t take him long to ponder over his decision since he quickly knew that he wanted to find out what could possibly drive a woman to not only go against her own parents, but a man too, something that was frowned upon by everyone.
“It’s alright, I’m sure it is just the nerves,” Dio added in, sending the three elders a warm yet faux smile before he started to head out the door. “I’ll go find her and talk to her! After all,” he paused at the entrance, turning his head with a closed eyes, “is it not a husband’s duty to support his wife?”
That was as much as George was able to remember of your first meeting, never truly understanding what had brought upon your reaction unlike Dio, who knew a lot more than what he did.
After five minutes maximum of searching, Dio had finally spotted a pink blob in the distance and knew it could only be you. You were under a tree, knees hugged to your chest which caused you skirt to ride up slightly and crease in the most un-lady like fashion, head buried into your arms as small sobs came from your balled up figure.
Now Dio wasn’t the best at comfort. In fact, he hadn’t been able to recall a single moment where he had tried to ease anyone side from his crying mother once upon a time. Nonetheless, he knew that if he couldn’t get to you, he’d never find out what brought one such a display earlier.
“Oi, woman. Stop your crying,” he demanded, realising a little too late that wasn’t exactly the most or at all comforting thing to say, but it did cause you to raise your head and look at him with watery eyes and tear stained cheeks. A pitiful show, and still Dio thought of it as an oddly precious look. He’ll just pretend that’s the pity talking.
“What...What do you want? If you’ve come to convince me to marry you, forget it! I won’t marry a man I don’t love, know or need, ever!” You yelled, unafraid of the consequences that would come from being a woman with such an outspoken voice. 
Clicking his tongue against his cheek to make a ‘tsk’ sound, Dio placed his hands onto his hips and looked down at you with a stoic expression. “Who said I wanted to marry you, girl? I’m only here because your parents are causing an unnecessary ruckus and I’m here to understand why you’re being so damn difficult.” 
You blinked up at him. A tear rolling down because of your fluttering lashes, even if you were no longer crying. Sighing, you gazed ahead of you at a serene scenery that captivated you well enough to soothe your inner troubles. A lake weaved before you, water glistening underneath a setting sun which was slowly painting the sky different hues of pinks, oranges and yellows; even a purple was blended in somewhere in the mix. It was so beautiful, and all you could really come back to was the issue at hand. 
“I... Don’t take this personally, Dio was it?” You checked, to which he affirmed by nodding once, “I don’t hate you directly, and it’s not that I loathe my parents either. It’s just that I don’t want to live the rest of my life under another man’s roof who I hardly know, and love, while being expected to sit around all day until he comes home so that we can try to have a child I probably won’t care for because all I’ll see is the product of an unhappy life.” Your longwinded rant paused briefly, as you inhaled quickly to continue.
“I want to live on my own! Under my own rules and start my own business where I can provide for myself and work hard for what I need and want, not have it boringly handed to me on a silver platter.” 
After you were done, Dio blinked a few times in amazement. Were you really telling him all this? Something so controversial and so strangely endearing? Fascinating. He was actually quite hooked on your story, and understood where you were coming from. Dio would feel identically to you had he been in your position.
“I see. Well, there’s only one way to go about this then.” He piped up, kneeling down beside you with slight cringe as he sort of wanted to avoid dirtying his trousers. Giving him a curious look, you tilted you head to ask ‘how’ when he suddenly placed a hand on your cheek. 
“From now on, we’ll show those stupid old people that we have no other relationship than one filled with hate, and if we’re successful enough then they’ll have to release us of our burden to marry.” His plan sounded fool proof, at least it did when he said it in such a confident and certain way, though you still had doubts. 
“What if they get angry and disown us? Or worse...” You trailed off, cringing at the harsh hands that could come into play if things went south.
“Then you’ll just have to be Mrs Brando and live only to bear my children,” he returned, smirking in a way that reminded you of a smug cat that had caught the canary. Shuddering, you shook your head. 
“No, that sound horrible!”
“Oh? Does [F/N] Brando not have a ring to it? I think it’s quite fitting.”
“Don’t joke like that!”
The memory faded there as the rest wasn’t important to Dio. From that day, for at least two years the two of you have yelled, bickered, insulted, chastised, teased and even lightly hit each other to send across the message that there was no romantic interest between you and still, the both of you were pressured into marrying. It was like the message wasn’t going through their thick skulls!
Some things had changed since then as well. The two of you had slowly grown closer, away from your parents’ eyes of course, and even found comfort in each other’s company. Dio had somehow ended up confessing his backstory to you and his dislike for Jonathan, in which you assured him that he wasn’t any less of a man for coming from a poor family, and you had even given him a comforting kiss on the cheek. The rest of your time together was in embarrassing silence, mainly for Dio as you were contently resting your head on  his shoulder after you had teased his denied blush,
Honestly, even some of your fake arguments were like flirting, but just ten times more attractive and it made Dio genuinely want to see you again every time you left.
Snapping back into reality, Dio realised that George had resumed conversing with him and to his luck, it was to remind him that you would be shortly arriving for another one of your ‘arranged dates.’ 
Acting disgusted, the trickster scowled. “Does she have to come? She’s better off a thousand feet from me and then some.” 
“Dio, please. It’s been years, surely you have warmed up to her enough to at least not talk about her in that way!” George scolded, raising his cane to gently tap his son’s head with it. 
“You could stretch my life span to an infinite amount of years, and it still wouldn’t be enough.”
No more was said then as a butler had entered the room, announcing your arrival in which you entered on cue, cold as ever and not even greeting your supposed fiancé, just a ‘hello’ to George who sighed and greeted you in return, shortly excusing himself to his study to leave you two to do your own thing, expecting the both of you to carry out your arranged date though he doubted it.
As soon as he was gone, you smiled at Dio and giggled, slowly walking up to him once the door was closed by the exiting butler. “My, Mr Brando, don’t you look god awful today,” you noted, a joking flirt in your tone as you hooded your eyes and pinched your skirt to raise it a little.
Dio had managed to both scoff and smirk at the same time as he slightly opened his arms out, allowing you to approach him ever closer and press your blouse covered chest against his broader one, one hand slowly mimicking a walking motion up from his chest to his neck so you could wrap your arms around him. “Not as wretched and hideous as you, Mrs Brando. Did you just roll out of a sewer or is this your usual afternoon attire?” He teased, loosely holding your waist and staring down into the eyes that he had noticed so well when you first met. Still as perfect as ever. 
“Oh love, you know all of this is for you. If you’re good, I’ll let you see what’s under all this sewer gunk,” the purr in your tone and the feeling of your breasts pressing onto him made his mouth dry and you only laughed at his reaction to your unabashed tease. “I’m only joking, Dio, I can’t very well go sleeping with you just yet if I want to prove to my family I can be independent!”
He cleared his throat slightly and nodded with agreement, “of course, of course, we can do no such thing,” he recited, coquettishly grinning at you before he repeated one of your words, “yet.”
You gasped and stuttered, slapping his arm gently. “Oh hush! You know what I was going for.” You really didn’t know where your relationship with Dio was heading, if the two of you really were going to marry due to your parents or your own free will, or if it would all be over once you had your business plan approved, but you made an effort enjoy what strange intimacy you had now. 
“Do I, love? Perhaps you should explain it to me in further detail,” he hummed, moving his head down a little to brush his nose against your own. 
“No! Now be quiet, shouldn’t you be taking me somewhere?” You reminded, quickly changing the subject and taking a step back. Tittering, Dio starved for the feeling of you against him once more, moving to walk beside you with a hand on your lower back, guiding you to the door. It was arranged that he would take you to a restaurant in a carriage and spend until the evening at least socialising and perhaps touring the town. You both knew that you could actually talk until tomorrow’s sunrise, but for the sake of the message you wanted to send, it was better to cut it off sooner than that.
The two of you continued to silently banter all the way to the carriage.
Dio, in all his years, had never been more happier to spend time with a woman, as sharp tongued and stubborn as you were. He knew that once he had gotten rid of George and Jonathan Joestar, that he would appoint you head of his household and name you his wife and let you do as you wish, provided you swear to love him until death do you part.
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