#girls romper pattern

[5berriessewingpatterns-blog]

Introducing the Baby Romper Sewing Pattern Bundle

[hazeltailofficial]

VALENTINE'S DAY FLASHBACK

Blue Floral Romper from Torrid

hazeltail on youtube / hazeltailofficial on tiktok / hazeltailofficial on ig / @hazeltailofficial / @hazeltail

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Dad!Simon Riley x Fem!reader

Simon Riley: Girl Dad

From the request here ; pic screenshot from this video

“Can I come in now?” you ask, popping your head into the nursery as Simon finishes getting your 3 month old daughter Anna ready for the day. 

She wriggles in his grasp, babbling away as he mutters in a hushed tone to her about keeping still for daddy.

"Ya think this is funny yeah," he teases her, tickling her chubby tummy before trying to wrangle one of her legs in his grasp.

It’s like music to his soul the way the happy talking sounds she makes touches his heart and it only makes him want to do whatever he can so that she will keep making them for him. That’s why it always takes longer than usual to get her dressed when he does it.

You crane your neck trying to sneak a peak, but his voice stops you. “Not yet,” he says and moves his body to block your view. 

He doesn’t want you to see before he’s ready. The outfit is one he picked up the other night on a whim, the moment he saw it he knew Anna had to have it for today, and he wants to get it all on to give the full effect. He finishes straightening her up and tucks her body sitting up in the crook of his arm. She is content as can be being snuggled at the side of his chest, happily clapping her little hands together as they turn to face you. 

“Well?” he asks, brow furrowed and body slightly tense as he waits for your critique. “How'd we do?”

You match your daughter’s vibrant smile as you see the outfit Simon’s bought all on his own: a bright yellow corduroy romper with frill capped sleeves, little socks with suns on them, and a big yellow bow to match. Your heart swells full of emotion at the sight; it’s just an outfit, sure, but it really means so much more than the sum of its parts. You know just how far Simon has come in his journey with her and it truly warms your heart to see him so smitten with the little babe this way.  

When she first came home, there wasn’t a moment when Simon wasn’t on edge around her, nervous that somehow, someway, he would end up hurting her. She seemed so small to him in those first days, so incredibly delicate as she lay sleeping in her bassinet like the most perfect doll, that he was certain that someone as rough around the edges as him would never be able to be near her without breaking her and that was something he was not willing to risk.

She is his gift, his light, a treasure that came from out of all the years of heartache and hardship and he would never let anything bad ever happen to her.

It took some time and a lot of encouragement on your part, but finally Simon found his confidence and never looked back. Any chance now that he can get he is holding her, changing her, feeding her; anything and everything he can do to show her his love by his actions alone. And whether he gives himself the credit for it or not, he is doing a marvelous job.

“How did I know you'd choose something yellow?” you laugh as Simon glares at you, trying not to crack that fake tough facade. 

It is becoming a pattern for him to choose yellow things when it comes to Anna. When she came home from the hospital a few months ago in that yellow onesie, it was like a flip and been switched and that was it; that was her hue from then on. It is strange, Simon never really had a favorite color before that special day and then suddenly yellow was never the same. Now he cannot imagine his life without it.

His face breaks into a smile as he shakes his head, not ready to admit that he is becoming predictable. “Come on, did I do it right or not? Just want to be sure it looks fine on her. We got a big day and I want it ta be perfect.”

Your face brightens as you look her over again. “She looks adorable, Simon,” you reply cheerfully. “You did good, baby. I think you’re really getting the hang of this dad thing.”

Looking down at her in his grasp, he beams with a sense of accomplishment and his tense shoulders ease. Parenting is not something Simon ever thought he could be good at, he never thought he would be the one with the chance at having a family, but each day he is making strides in the right direction to becoming the dad he desperately wants to be.  

“Are you sure you’ll be okay on your own today?” you ask as you watch Simon place a delicate kiss to the top of Anna’s small, wispy-haired head. “Cause I can stay if you need me to. All I gotta do is make a call and let them know I can’t go.”

Simon shakes his head and reaches for you with his free arm, pulling you by the wrist until you step close enough that he can wrap his arm around your hip to pull you against him opposite your daughter. “Ya worry too damn much, sweetheart,” he says as his hand finds your cheek, his thumb stroking across the soft skin before he is leaning his face in towards yours. 

His full lips catch you in their tender embrace, a kiss that is full of emotion, and in an instant your eyes flutter closed as you relinquish yourself to him. You let all those worries fall away as the gentle touch of his lips, the heat from his breath, the passion flowing through his kiss calms your mind. He conveys so much without ever speaking a single word and in a flash you are put at ease.

Slowly he breaks away, already missing your taste the moment your lips part. Eyes still shut, he rests his forehead against yours, rocking all three of you back and forth a moment as he enjoys the feeling of having his entire life resting comfortably in his arms. You both open your eyes after a time and look down at Anna babbling away to herself, before looking back at each other. This is all still new and unchartered territory, so the both of you are working to figure it all out, but so far it has been anything except bad. 

“I promise, I got ‘er. We’re gonna be just fine,” he says quietly. “Isn’t that right, princess?”

At the sound of his voice Anna turns her face to find his and it lights up as it always does whenever her favorite person talks to her. She even employs her recently-learned skill of giggling happily to punctuate that she agrees with whatever it was she was just asked, even though she doesn’t understand a word of it.  

Simon kisses your forehead to be sure the worry is completely gone. “It’s just a couple hours on base and then we’ll be home the rest of tha day,” he says. “Besides, might be nice to show her off to the guys. She does look real pretty today.” 

“That she does,” you agree as you quickly check the clock on your phone and with a kiss to your baby and one more for Simon you are gone, leaving the pair alone.

Simon gets to work double checking everything in his backpack that he has to bring for her: extra diapers, wipes, bottles, toys, anything he could need while he is out. It’s in his nature, years of military training has come in handy as he is prepared for it all. Satisfied, he turns back to the baby at his side. “Alright princess,” he says, “ready to go see where your dad spends all his time when he ain’t at home?”

The moment he’s walking on base, black backpack filled with essentials strapped to his back, tiny baby girl dressed in bright clothes tucked in his arms, he’s drawing curious stares from everyone he passes. This is the first time she has gone to base with him, so of course people are going to be inquisitive about things. How can they not? Simon looks like… well, Simon: intense, stoic, intimidating. Even in just his black t-shirt and jeans, with his lightweight balaclava on, he is still an imposing figure. Never one to be shy per se, Simon still does not like the attention on him, but since he is with his little angel he doesn’t care. He is proud to show off the best damn thing he has ever helped to create.

The contrast between him and his daughter he knows is jarring and Simon laughs to himself at how absurd this must look for someone like him with such a coarse demeanor to be handling such a precious, sweet thing. Who would have thought that the scary skull-masked military officer would have a family of his own? It is a shock he is sure. 

“Seems we’re gonna be the talk ‘round ‘ere today, princess,” he says as he looks down at Anna, secure in his grasp as they continue on towards his office.

She is too busy looking everywhere her little head can turn to be bothered by anything. Being out and about with her father, seeing things she’s never seen before, which is pretty much everything, has her interested and engaged with the sights around her. Those small brown eyes, the ones that are a carbon copy of his, stare on as she silently takes everything in.

He makes it to his office and gets set up, grabbing everything that he needs in one tight spot as he sits Anna up in his lap with a toy for her to play with. She is content for a while as he goes through paperwork, occasionally he gives her a tickle or readjusts her on his thigh, something to show that he hasn’t forgotten she’s there with him. 

Barely an hour has passed before Anna begins to whine and fuss and Simon knows what that means: she’s hungry. He grabs the prepped bottle out of the bag and walks to the small microwave in the corner of the room, warming it and testing it on his wrist before he moves back to his desk and sits back down in his chair, cradling her in his arms against his chest as he places the nipple of the bottle in her mouth.

“There ya are, luv,” he comforts her until she settles into him, “I gotcha. Daddy didn’t forget.”

Unknown to Simon, there is an unexpected guest that has just appeared near his office door, though before the person can even knock to announce themselves, they are caught by surprise at the sight before them. Johnny, who’s come to deliver something from Price, stops right in his tracks and stares at the scene before him.

He stands there, watching as Simon tenderly holds this little infant in his arms, quietly rocking back and forth as she drinks her bottle. Every now and again he speaks to her softly, the skin around his eyes tightening to indicate there is a smile underneath the mask. There is an ease to his movements as if he knows exactly what he is doing and it genuinely shocks the young sergeant. Who could have ever guessed that this would be something Simon would be such a natural at?

As Anna is finishing the bottle, Simon looks up as he feels a pair of eyes on him to see Johnny standing there, obscured by the doorframe, silently watching. He sets the empty bottle down on his desk and moves Anna to sit upright on his thigh, leaning her against the crook of his arm so that he can pat and rub her back until she burps. 

“Can I help ya, Mactavish?” Simon’s distinct voice calls out, catching Johnny off-guard as he realizes he’s been caught staring.

“Sorry, L.T.” Johnny stutters out as he hurriedly steps inside the office, remembering why he is here in the first place, and sets some papers upon his desk. “Price sent these; says he needs ya to look ‘em over.”

Simon nods in understanding, his hand still rubbing the baby’s back. “Will do,” he agrees, thinking this will be the end of the interaction, but Johnny still lingers. “Anything else?”

“I heard ‘round base that ya had your little one here today. Had to come see if it was true fer myself,” Johnny admits with guilt. 

“Well, ya could meet ‘er if ya like, ‘stead a standin’ there just starin’.”  Simon nods his head down at the baby. “Johnny, this is Anna.”

The sergeant observes her as she begins to coo, her eyes catching the tattoos along Simon’s muscular arm, her petite fingers tapping and poking along the lines and patterns with delight as she loves to do when he holds her like this. She’s so engrossed that she hasn’t realized there is another person in the room yet.

Johnny clears his throat. “Didn’t mean ta stare, ya know. It’s just a surprise ta see she’s actually real, I guess.”

The original members of the 141 know about Anna, it wasn’t something that Simon could hide once she was about to make her way into the world, but it’s a bit jarring for the Scot to see someone that he had previously known to be so toughened by the world change so drastically. Anyone who gets close enough can see it in the lieutenant’s soft gaze: he adores the little girl and that is… interesting, to say the least.

Simon chuckles at the clear surprise in Johnny’s voice as Anna is still playing with his arm. “Bit absurd, innit Johnny?” he questions while watching her with a prideful twinkle in those brown eyes as she giggles. “Me with a kid? Doesn’t seem possible, does it?” 

“Ya seem a natural ta me,” the Scot admits in awe of how easily he makes it seem, as if he was given some secret knowledge that made him know exactly what to do and how to do it. “Then again I don’t know the first thing ‘bout babies. Wouldn’t even know where ta start.”

Simon is reminded about how when he first found out he was going to be a dad he had started reading all the books, researching all the things like a good, capable soldier would, but how all of that prep was nothing in the end as the moment she came into the world everything was turned on its head. It’s not like in the books, it’s so much better and it is days like today that make it worth all the worry and fear and anxiety he had to break through to get here.

“Easier than ya think,” Simon replies with a chuckle as he moves Anna around facing forward now. “Once ya get the hang of it.”

“Don’t tell my girl that,” Johnny laughs back. “Can’t afford one right now.”

Anna’s attention is stirred away from Simon’s tattoos and towards the other man standing in the room with them. She looks up at Johnny in awe, not having much experience with others outside of Simon and you, but Johnny shoots her his classic smile and he has her giggling again in a flash. 

“Well hey there Anna, nice ta meet ya,” he introduces himself before turning back to Simon. “I think she likes me.”

“It's your hair she's eyein’,” Simon points out, following her eye line.

Sure enough as soon as Johnny runs his hands over the mohawk cut into his hair her eyes light up. “Can she touch it?” he asks Simon and he nods in agreement.

Johnny falls to one knee in front of the little girl, leans his head down, and lets her put her hand in it. Her short, chubby fingers pull the strands as she laughs, the short, spiky pieces pricking her fingertips. She pulls away quickly before bringing her hand back in again, a sort of game that she repeats a few more times before Johnny gets back to his feet. 

“He’s a funny one, ain’t he, princess?” Simon questions his little one as he strokes his thumb around the smile that fills her tiny, round cheeks. “Ya like him, yeah?”

She coos, her little lips forming an ‘o’ so that she sounds like a dove. That’s the closest to a yes as they are going to get. 

“I sure ‘ope ya do, seein’ as I’m your dad’s best friend,” Johnny picks, looking to Simon to see his reaction. 

He rolls his eyes at the statement, but stays silent and doesn’t correct him. Instead Simon opts to end the conversation there, needing to get finished here anyway so that he can get back home. As much as Johnny’s company isn’t as grating as it first was, he is ready to spend some alone time with the baby before you get back. “Well, if ya don’t mind, I need to get back to it. Say goodbye Anna.”

Johnny agrees, though his mouth twitches like he wants to ask a question, but ultimately decides not to ask it in the end. He turns to leave, but Simon guesses at what he is wanting and calls out behind him so that he stops. 

“And ya can tell the others they can come see ‘er if they want,” Simon assures, “I know they’re probably itchin’ to get a glimpse of her too. That’s why they sent ya, yeah? See if I was up for company?”

Johnny turns around and nods his head. Fuck, they’ve been caught. “Will do, L.T.” he says. “Can ya blame us though? She’s pretty damn cute.”

And with that he turns back around. As Johnny leaves the office with the sounds of Simon and Anna at his back, he can’t help but smile to himself at seeing his friend finally have a bit of happiness; if anyone deserves it, it is Simon. Wait till the others see just how much things around here are going to change.

[fandomxo00]

Ok but imagine:

Logan is the driver for your best friends bachelorette party

no actual smut

...

Logan thought you were a pretty thing from the second he laid eyes on you.

You didn't wear dresses like the rest of the girls, you were a black jumpsuit, the neckline dipping down, the legs flowy and the lace of your bra made patterns in the romper's fabric.

Everyone seemed so excited, rowdy, and impulsive. You were quiet and slightly secluded from the pack, as your eyes drifted to the floor. His eyes kept darting to you in the back, his mind going to sitting on his lap, your legs around his thighs as you sunk your hot core against his thigh.

If he ever got his hands on you, he would ruin you.

You wound up sitting in the front with Logan when you got overstimulated in the back. He'd grunted out a rough, "yeah". Stopping at the nearest gas station so you could hop into the front of the car. Your eyes connected with his and he could hear your heart pick up a bit. His eyes moved from your face, down to your chest and running down your body. Logan cleared his throat as he realized how creepy he must've seemed, but that's when he smelt your arousal, something that overcame his senses. Imagining himself burying his face between your thighs.

You thought he was handsome from the second he picked your group up, opening the door to the back of limo. Your eyes connecting with his as your tongue came out to lightly wet your lips before ducking into the car. Logan had a full beard on his face, patches of white in the dark brown facial hair. His hair was a sandy brown color with a hint of gray. His face had lots of different lines, making him seem so rugged, especially with the scars across his face, just little ones here and there. Then a scar that you imagined being a large gash.

You didn't have time to look into his eyes, but when you got into the car the sunset had made sunlight beam into the windshield of his car. Making his eyes seem like depths of gold with flecks of a coppery erosion color. He rolled the window to the back shut as the two of you sat in dead silence.

The two of you just sharing passing glances, when he'd look over at you, you'd find his eyes and vice versa. But the two of you sat in comfortable silence before getting to the bar. You hadn't done anything this time but when you got back into the front you were inebriated to say the least. You hadn't ever drunk as much as you drank tonight, shooting back each and every shot given to you.

You had gotten awfully close to him, resting your head against his shoulder. You'd like to say you weren't aware of you what you were doing. But you were very much aware of his strong bicep that you were resting your head against. Or when your knee bumped into the side of his thigh and stayed there.

You wanted this old man to fuck you, and you had wanted it before you got to the bar, but you wouldn't have ever tried anything with an older man. Your best friend's fiancé had paid Logan to take each of you back to your respective houses, as you rested your eyes, (or rather waited for everyone to get dropped off) then you decided that you'd be the last as you never budged when he tried to wake you. Just groaning and batting at his hand, or even moving closer to him.

"Sweetheart, where do you live?" Logan asked, his voice low as you blinked your eyes open, a small smile on your face. You told him where you lived, and he started towards your apartment. You moved your head back to his shoulder and this time his arm moved out around you, pulling you into his strong side. He smelt like some musky woodsy cologne and hearing his heartbeat in his chest.

Though by the time you did get to your apartment, you wound up actually falling asleep against his warm chest. He parked his limo on the street before coaxing you out of the front seat and scooping you up his arms. You mumbled out your apartment number as he spoke softly into your ear, his beard rubbing against the lobe of your ear.

Logan finds a sense of anger when he thinks about how irresponsible you were tonight. Or even your best friend, not knowing who he even was. She let you him to you home while you completely drunk. You were naive to think that he wasn't some scumbag, but lucky that he'd never take advantage of anyone like that.

He had gotten you into your home, and you let him set you down on the couch. "You're milking this aren't you" He murmured into your ear, as you turned your head with a tired smile on your lips, as your eyes fluttered open. Your eyes were dark and sexy as your finger moved up to collar of his undershirt then sliding to his tie to pull him closer.

"Want you to fuck me." You breathed, your eyes adjusting as you looked up into his eyes.

"Don't know what you're asking for, hon" Your nose rubbed against his cheek as you whined softly, your hand coming to his and putting it on your waist.

"Not even that drunk, Logan."

"You remembered my name?"

"Yeah." You nodded, frowning slightly at him, as you looked up into his now dark eyes, your other hand going to the "Do you want me?"

"That's not the issue. Why don't you go take a shower and lay-."

"Only if you're here after." You argued, mischief in your eyes as you kept him close, your lips connecting with the side of his jaw.

"Y/n..." Logan almost growled, his voice so deep, as forehead leant against yours, his nose rubbing back against yours.

"Tell me you'll stay." You whispered, as his eyes shut as your hand on his chest comes to his beard, running your fingers against his face to feel his jaw clench.

"I'll stay sweetheart."

Note: I definitely want to do more old man! Logan fics just don't have any ideas for him, but he's so fucking rugged and sexy....grrrrrr

[dilfl0v3rss]

CAN WE PLS GET A onyankopon X BLACK READER FANFIC IDC IF ITS SMUT OR FLUFF PLSS

i gotchu boooo. i decided to do the fluff about the reader’s hair not cooperating bc as a black girl ts get real stressful😒

hair struggles

summary: ony comforts you when you struggle to recreate a hairstyle.

cw: fluffff

word count: 678

“cmon baby we gon be late” onyankopon sighed in irritation as he watched you try to redo your hair for the third time today. “if my hair not right we not gon be going nowhere” you were trying to redo a hairstyle you saw on tik tok a couple days ago. the first time it was attempted you looked perfectly fine, but of course that was on a day you had nowhere to go. now that you have this barbecue to be at, it seems like god thought it was the perfect time to play with you.

“ma dukes said she got plates for me and i’m not ‘bout to let them get cold cause you don’t like your hair”

you rolled your eyes at your big ass boyfriend, continuing to fix your hair. it’s not like the style was hard. it was a simple half up half down with a swoop in the front. this should be easy compared to the other styles you’ve tried, but your hair refuses to cooperate today and your swoop just won’t slick down.

“just leave me. i’ll take my car to the house okay?” you mumble as your eyes began to water. ony knows that when you feel your hair doesn’t look right you start to get so frustrated to the point where you’d give up on whatever plans you have for the day, but he seen no reason for the both of you to take separate cars to the same place. he was also really hungry and refused to let your moms great cooking go to waste.

“mama it don’t gotta be slicked all the way. if it waves up a little who really gon care.” ony remembered what you always told him about your curls so he added a lesson you taught him “you told me that wearing slick styles all the time can mess up your curl pattern anyway so what’s the issue wit just leaving it a lil wavy?” he says with a smirk, using your own facts against you. you knew he was right and didn’t really feel like driving so you wiped the tears from your face. you loved how ony always listened when you would talk about your hair whether it be about the products you used or just random facts.

“you right boo lemme finish up so we can go. i know you hungry as hell.” you sigh as your boyfriend smiled. he began to walk out of your shared room to go put his sneakers on at the front door. ony was wearing grey nike shorts with a white tee and his gold chains. it was a warmer day so he decided to throw on a his black fitted to hide from the sun and his space jams . it was the typical barbecue fit and you were expecting to see your brothers and cousins wearing a similar, if not the same, one. you decided to wear a grey romper with black sandals. a simple outfit since you could expect that you’d be walking around a lot and didn’t want to get really hot.

as you finally finished your hair you seen that it still wasn’t slicked down all the way, but you decided to just leave it after you remembered what your man reminded you. you smiled to yourself as you noticed that you didn’t even look bad and you overreacted a bit, walking out of your room to meet your boyfriend by the door. “you ready?” he said nervously, hoping you weren’t still upset. “yea baby let’s go before we late.” ony smiled, happy that you listened to him. he actually thought your hair looked better than the tutorial and began thinking about how your waved up hair kind of reminded him of the waves he had when he was younger. he was going to tell you that, but decided against it, knowing that you’d probably look at him crazy. “good because you look beautiful princess. now let’s go before all the food gone.”

[melancholicstation]

Do wanna run marathons in Long Beach by the sea? — a john f. kennedy jr one-shot

taglist: @obsessedwithjohnjr @vanillqcoke @rocker-chick-7 @ultr4v1ol3nt @violetharmonsfavgf @strip-weather-forecast @darcyspirits @fortheloveofjos @h-l-v-kennedy-blog @h-l-vlovesvintage @bluelancergirl @snowsgames @salvatoresablondie @dulcegal @kennedyism @bloxholden35 @kimcrystal123 @astro-vibes-bro @absurdlyvintage @jackiesgirl

SUMMARY: After a round of bad luck after bad luck with guys, Bobby, who has come to be a father figure of yours concocts a plan to set you up with his Bachelor of a nephew: John F. Kennedy junior, only neither of you quite know it yet.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: in this au bobby is still alive and works at the innocence project post his presidency. for a while it truly stumped me on what a man like him would've done if he lasted through 2 terms of a presidency and had to get a new job 🫠 also what should we name this reader!?

warnings: nothing just cute flirting, mean-ish jfk jr, use of the word bitch, kissing, bon*r but nothing beyond that, face touching

words: 1,759

Upper East Side, NY. 1995

Your conscious mind is rudely pulled back into reality from it's own sleep-induced bliss-state as you hear sounds akin to that of a racoon rummaging inside an opened trash chute.

As your eyes adjust to the change you start to get a feel for your surroundings. Nothing similar to a trash can—no quite the opposite. Instead of a grimy green, slick covered dross habit you had found yourself in a place you'd come to know as familiar: miss bouvier's new york townhome, or as you'd come to call her: Jackie.

You recognise yourself to be in her living room fit with a vast bookshelf, a safe haven for her over the decades you'd presume. Shrouded and protected by the novels and their winding tales—as if the paper thin pages were her coat of arms.

After your eyes had adjusted to the light, your whole body slowly seems to return to itself as your sensory receptors pick up the velveteen settee: in a swirling pattern of pink against a midnight black background.

Behind you sat a bookshelf wall to wall with books, so packed in fact that a ladder sufficed to be put in to explore the contents sufficiently. Glancing up the first book you lay your eyes upon is Works of Aeschylus. Instantaneously you are transported to how you got here in the first place—

*flashback to three hours ago*

You're regretting about all the romantic decisions that led you up to this point: crying the lobby of a Manhattan high-rise, embarrassing the hell out of yourself. Even in front of all the guys who looked like they were playing parodies of themselves on SNL. Despite not being blood Bobby was always the one you'd call when the going gets tough.

So that's how you got here: clad in nothing but an old heather-grey knit romper that you'd "stolen" from your recreational sport team in college and a pair of joggers with embroidered golfing patches—you knew they were less than fashionably conscious but damn! were they fucking comfortable.

Unsurprisingly you see Bobby bounding out the elevator, just on time, making his way over to you, encasing you in a fatherly hug before you can even mutter out a conversationally polite greeting of "hello" or "hi".

He doesn't say much, he never really does when you get in this state over a boy. To be quite frank he's fed up—no not at you, never at you: but at those douchebag boys who could never to measure up in any measure of a man. He knew he, or his brother's for that matter, weren't exactly angels in the fidelity department but they'd never have had the gall to run games like these boys have played on you.

And to top it off he'd just got off from a phone call from John last night saying that he wouldn't come to thanksgiving—too worried that the family will tease him for not bringing a girl home 4 years in a row.

While you silently cry in the taxi on the way home—well not to your home or bobby's instead to Jackie's home in manhattan: according to Bobby he'd been cat-sitting for Jackie while she sailed through St-Tropez for the weekend so that's where you two would be headed.

In between your crying and unbeknownst to you, Bobby concocted a plan to kill two birds with one stone...

Mysteriously informing you he'd ride with you to the townhouse and ride all the way back to his office, apparently he'd forgotten to some important papers to leave at Jackie's in his office. Assuring you that he'd be back before you knew it.

*end of flashback*

Your disturbed once more by the sound you presumed had woken you up in the first place and are met with a disturbing sight John no less than 5 five metres away from your splayed out frame: crouching over a filing cabinet aptly disguised as a chest of drawers.

You'd never really got along with John, not with his smug nature and ability to deflect questions with ease that he didn't feel bothered to pay attention to. Truthfully it was like a dance of tango even trying to engage in a conversation with him: so you never really tried. Bobby had always tried to ingrain you into Kennedy family traditions: knowing your rocky relationship with your own family. So you would talk to John in passing but never for too long: though it was long enough for you two to start a Cold War of passive aggressive passes of mash potatoes every holiday season.

Now to any other women aged 25-40 in America this sight would be a dream come true what with John clad in a simple button down shirt, and loosely tied linen slacks: none drawing attention away from his sharp jaw and frustratingly kissable lips, resembling the shade of a rabbit's tongue.

"Oh so sleeping beauty does wake!" You startle at the arrogance simply seeping out of his vocal cords.

"Pretty sure sleeping and being comatose are two different things, Jackass." you curtly reply while moving up into the slightly less demeaning positioning of half-sitting half-laying: hoisted up by the refined floral patterned cushions splayed about the living room.

"You say such pretty things to me, Y/n!" John says, motioning his hands in a fake swooning gesturing his hand to his forehead faking feeling faint.

"What're you looking for any way? Snooping in one me sleeping. I didn't take you for a peeping tom, maybe I should have."

"Oh don't flatter yourself. Bobby called me."

My body quickly turned cold why would Bobby call him, at this hour of night? I knew them to be close but not—calling at all hours of the night for favours—close.

"Now why in the hell would he do that John-John?"

"Would you shut up with that? you know I hate that nickname. Bob called me cause he needed me to bring some of mom's papers to the office."

How peculiar, you thought. Didn't Bobby just say, mere hours ago, that he'd left papers for Mrs Kennedy in his office? Not finding it particularly relevant you decline to tell John this fact.

"Why would he call you? He'd have a better job getting Freckles to go find it first."

"Stop that will ya? To be honest I think he's just giving me something to do I guess he feels sorry for me. Y'know about the Claudia stuff."

A melancholic stupor falls over his face, and you start to feel like you're talking to a real human being: y'know with feelings and thoughts. Seemingly some of the hubris had fallen from his features at the mere mention of that girl. You'd heard that Jackie never liked her found her too eccentric for her likening.

Uncomfortable with the certain intimacy he'd uncharacteristically shared with you, you try to lighten the mood

"If you want some basic bitch, go to the Beverly Center and find her. I'm sure the girls down fifth avenue would simply fawn over just the sight of you."

"Don't act like you're any different. You fawn over as much as the rest of them, nothing better to do", he says with a performed confidence.

"For the record I did have things to do. I don't normally mop around like you tell Bobby I do all damn day"

"Oh yeah? What things do you have to do?"

"Not much at all but I strain to think of it as your business"

"Well you are my business!"

You scoff "Oh-oh I'm your business now? Is that it?"

"You've been my business since the minute a saw you sleeping on the couch with tear stains on the pillow"

Time slows for several moments, shit how long had he been here to see you crying?

As if he can read your mind he answers your question with his next breath

"Don't worry I didn't see anything. Just saw the remnants on your pillow but it was enough to make me want to knock the teeth out of whatever boy made you like this." John says while still desperately trying to find Bobby's magically disappearing and reappearing file to deal with his uncomfortableness at his own outburst of sincerity. A mode unfamiliar to him normally.

Betraying yourself you blush like a schoolgirl, tipping your chin to your neck, the acetate claw clip clipped into your hair dragging along the base of your neck.

Slowly John makes his move towards you: precise and monitored. As if you're a wounded dear he doesn't want to scare off. Brushing a hand across your check: making his way down to tug on your bottom lip.

As if operated by magnetic pull, you meet each other's lips. Surprisingly either of the two do not fight for dominance, instead you two fall into a routine not dissimilar to that of a dance in which you both inhabit spaces of dominance and submission. A true push and pull.

A large friend graces your acquaintance and attention: in the shape of a prominent mound in his trousers, which he laughs off clearly embarrassed from getting this worked up over a 5 minute make-out session.

In the throughs of passion the papers John had been sorting through crumple slightly. That sound is what precisely stops his movements: clearly coming back to his senses and remembering that he'd promise Bobby that he'd find the papers.

Conflicted on how to move forward. John takes a big swing

"Y'know is there any chance you'd wanna come and rive with me to Bob's office, there's this Italian place we could eat at if you're hungry? Don't get me wrong I'd love—" gesturing down to the mound in his slacks "—to continue this further but I just can't let him down."

"Nah I get it. And I guess I'm a little hungry" you try to perform nonchalance to your detriment.

Chuckling at your faux coolness, John rises to stand wringing his large veiny fingers

"I'll go head and ring Bobby so he knows we're coming up, and meet you downstairs, alright?"

"Okay" you reply still out of breath as you watch him leave the living room and grab his Nokia 1011. Mortified yet extremely pleased with yourself you grab one of Jackie's refined choice of couch furnishings and yell into its feather filled centre.

A yell filled with utter disbelief and a renewed hope for the future—or at least for the rest of your night.

[queenofsquids]

Limhwa Iris in crochet pattern "Pretty Girl Romper" by Fancydolldesign on Etsy

[allsadnshit]

I feel like one of the summer fashion things that kills me is women's fashion has truly only a few options for my age group (late twenties)

1. Dress like a freshmen e-girl with the blonde front bangs even though you're visibly not 18 years old anymore

2. Dress like your a 45 year old mom on a vacation to Panama in all linens

3. Wear super baggy unflattering jean shorts cause the cool nyc baddies do it except you don't live there so you look frumpy and short

4. Wear athleisure and look like you've given up on real clothes cause you don't know how to dress yourself as an adult anymore

5. Jumper/romper Sundress with ugly pattern that instantly makes you look like a millennial aunt who self identifies as "still got it" and also probably an early stage alcoholic sort of wine or cocktails at brunch energy

And I cannot accept that

[kaizoku-musume]

Sitting Pretty

Entry #10 in @xxsycamore’s Visions of Temptation kinktober event. Link to the fic on AO3.

Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku

Pairing: Mitsuhide x OC

Word count: 2.2k

Prompts: Somnophilia | Cockwarming

Tohru sketched out the floral pattern of the outfit she was designing, explaining her process aloud for Mitsuhide, who was watching over her shoulder as she sat in his lap. She was showing him the fashion of her time, dresses and rompers and crop tops and skirts-everything she could remember, one by one, in roughly two hour long sessions twice a month.

Right now, they were approaching hour one, which is where Tohru always started to get a bit antsy. Mitsuhide had an arm wrapped around her waist, keeping her pressed against him and unable to fidget, which both helped and hindered her. Tohru’s legs were splayed out around Mitsuhide’s as he sat before the low table, and all she wanted was to be able to close them and give herself some relief.

Mitsuhide noticed her flagging attention, because of course he did. “Is something drawing your attention away?” he chuckled, shifting the slightest bit. Tohru bit her lip around a low noise, legs clenching around his. “I wasn’t aware that you find these sessions less engaging than I do,” Mitsuhide adopted a fake pout to his tone before seamlessly switching to a teasing lilt, “What must I do to encourage you to focus?”

“Don’t you get tired of making the same joke every time?” Tohru complained, unable to keep the whine out of her voice.

“Perhaps if you did not have the same reaction every time, I would be less inclined to point it out,” Mitsuhide traced a nonsensical shape on her bare thigh, trailing tantalizingly close to her core. Tohru took a deep breath to stave off asking for relief. She knew from experience that she wasn’t going to get to come before the full two hours. “Good girl,” Mitsuhide praised, and it was embarrassing, the way she flushed with pride.

“Don’t use my praise kink against me,” she grumbled, resisting the urge to adjust herself.  God, she could feel the way she clenched around the cock buried in her at his words. There was no way for her to ever hide anything from him, was there? She shouldn’t have said anything, either, because now Mitsuhide was going to-

“How can I resist when you tighten up so deliciously around me?” Mitsuhide said smugly.

-do that. Grumbling to herself, Tohru bucked down and furiously scribbled out the rest of the design. When did she ever learn? The best course of action was for Tohru to undergo a personality change so she wasn’t an easy target for Mitsuhide, but unfortunately that was impossible. So basically, she had no defense against him, and was in for another hour of torment that she could do nothing about.

Which he started immediately by seemingly absent-mindedly stroking the wrist of her free hand with his thumb. Tohru twitched at the ticklish feeling. Mitsuhide was definitely aiming for her most sensitive spots, trailing his thumb all the way down the length of her forearm before slowly dragging it back up, following the path of her vein. When Mitsuhide asked about her technique for figuring out which pattern worked best with which style, Tohru had to answer on autopilot, too distracted by Mitsuhide’s movements.

And that was pretty much how things went for the next half hour: Mitsuhide would drag his fingers and nails across the areas of her skin that sent a jolt of pleasure straight to her center and ask questions that Tohru struggled to answer. It wasn;t until they were in the final half hour stretch that Mitsuhide kicked up his teasing.

Tohru didn’t have the capability to focus on how much time had passed, so she was always caught by surprise when Mitsuhide shifted gears. Today, he had been drawing swirls on her upper chest when he suddenly swept his hand down to palm her breast. Tohru’s drawing hand spasmed, a sharp line cutting through her sketch of a pair of boots.

“Oh dear,” Mitsuhide tutted, “what a shame. It was a wonderful rendition, and I enjoyed imagining you wearing them.” The arm Mitsuhide had around her waist was removed so he could sweep his fingertips up from her thigh to her foot. Tohru held still despite her newfound freedom. Prior knowledge made her aware that it was a test: if Tohru moved in order to seek her own pleasure, Mitsuhide would drag this out even longer. But if she let him do what he wanted and withstood this last stretch, Mitsuhide would reward her by fucking her at the end of the half hour.

Speaking of stretches, enduring this period was always the most difficult part; Mitsuhide’s cock was spearing her perfectly, her walls expanded to accommodate him, her opening forced wide around the base of his shaft. Tohru felt like a rubber band pulled taut, full of tension eager to release.

Mitsuhide kneaded the flesh of her breast, squeezing and releasing her tit like it was a stress ball, his fingernails digging into her skin, while his other hand lightly tickled her heel and arch. Tohru whimpered, her foot twitching in Mitsuhide’s grasp, but she managed not to grind against Mitsuhide’s cock. She had no idea how he managed to remain so calm and unmoving inside her-Tohru herself was in constant, if minimal, movement, tiny little shifts of her hips.

Mitsuhide circled her nipple and whispered right by her ear, “Have I rendered you incapable of speech so soon?”

“Please, touch me,” Tohru begged, knowing as she did so that if he acquiesced, it would just make it harder for her.

Mitsuhide laughed softly, kissing the shell of her ear. “What a bold request from my little mouse. How can I ever deny you.” He rubbed the pad of his thumb across her nipple until it hardened. When the bud had sufficiently stiffened, he took it between two fingers, squeezing and tugging in a maddening rhythm. Tohru moaned and leaned her head back on his shoulder, dropping her writing utensil, unable to force herself to draw.

Mitsuhide brought his other hand up the length of her leg, trailing along her inner thigh until it came to a rest at the edge of her mound, mere centimeters above her clit. “Do you think you can handle more?” he mused, his hand dipping down for just a second to tap at her clit. Tohru jolted, her body tensing at the sudden burst of sensation.

It would be an incredibly bad idea to ask for more. Tohru is so incredibly weak to pleasure, and Mitsuhide knew how to play her like a fiddle. Ten minutes hadn’t even passed. Yes, the smart thing to do would be to decline.

“I can do it,” Tohru said, like an idiot.

“My precious bell flower,” Mitsuhide cooed, “so eager to prove herself.” He obligingly drew his hand down to rub at her clit, matching pace with the fingers on her nipple. Tohru whined, fighting hard not to buck her hips into Mitsuhide’s touch. She arched her back, pressing her chest further into his grip in the hopes that focusing on her breast would get her to stop being so focused on the cock buried to the root inside her, filling her to the brim.

Yeah, fat chance.

Despite most likely being aware of her thought process, Mitsuhide humored her and added the scrape and dig of his nails to his ministrations. Every once in a while, he gave a particularly vicious twist and tug. “I do hope you haven’t bitten off more than you can chew,” he said.

All of that just made it worse. Tohru tightened around Mitsuhide, fighting the urge to squirm. This was a horrible moment to remember the last time he made her come from her nipples alone, especially because that seemed to be his goal this time. Her moans grew more and more high-pitched as she approached her peak until Mitsuhide gave one last harsh tug, pinching her nipple tight between his thumb and index finger as he repeated the motion on her clit and sent her tumbling over.

Stars bursting in her vision, Tohru had just enough presence of mind not to move her hips; instead, her upper torso writhed in Mitsuhide’s hold, hands coming to wrap around his wrist. Tohru panted heavily as she came down from her high, leaning against Mitsuhide for support.

Mitsuhide gently gripped her chin and angled her head so he could lean down and kiss her, soft and sweet, his tongue languidly exploring the cavern of her mouth. Tohru sighed, quickly getting caught up in the slow pace of Mitsuhide’s kiss, the way he lavished attention to every inch of her he could.

Which is why it was such a surprise when he traded the position of his hands: the one that had been playing with her left breast moved down to her clit, and the one slick with her juices went up to her other tit. At the touch of his fingers to her sensitive buds, Tohru whimpered into the kiss, overcome when it turned possessive. Mitsuhide nipped at her bottom lip, pressing his lips firmly against hers, tongue sliding against hers in a passionate fervor. 

Despite being a bit sensitive after her orgasm, Tohru easily lost herself in Mitsuhide’s attention. He was gentle with her clit, circling around it and randomly applying light, consistent pressure so as not to overwhelm her. He did not offer the same treatment to her breast. He played with her tit as roughly as he had the other one, though the wetness of his fingertips soothed the way a bit.

Tohru whined, two seconds away from begging Mitsuhide to just fuck her already. She could feel how embarrassingly wet she was, her slick pooling in Mitsuhide’s lap, her wet core soaking Mitsuhide’s cock. She near about sobbed when he collected some of her wetness dripping out the side of her slit, briefly prodding at where his cock stretched her out, to help his fingers slide smoothly across her clit, the slick sounds of him rubbing her just barely audible. The length of him impaled so deep in her felt like a hot brand, radiating scorching heat and hard as iron. Thank god he wasn’t nudging against her g-spot, but it was still agonizing, feeling her flesh constantly parted around him without the friction of movement.

Mitsuhide finally pulled back from kissing her to give her the opportunity to breathe and Tohru wasted no time in crying, “Mitsuhide, please, please, I need you!”

Mitsuhide, in a casual display of cruelty that Tohru had come to expect from him, simply brushed his nose against hers and said, “You’ll give me one more, won’t you? If you continue to be good for me, I might consider it.”

Tohru didn’t want to be good, she wanted to be fucked. One of her hands held onto his left wrist while the other came up to clutch at the back of his neck. She felt like she was fraying apart, and only her connection to Mitsuhide kept her solid and stable. All she could do was babble more pleas and hold on.

To her utter disappointment, Mitsuhide was taking his time this round, winding her up only to back off, slowing down his movements until her next orgasm was in the distance before starting the cycle all over again. Tohru shook with the effort not to roll her hips. She continued to beg and plead for mercy until tears fell from her eyes, but all Mitsuhide did was kiss her cheeks, licking up the salty tracks and offering empty, if sweet sounding platitudes.

Tohru had completely lost track of time, caught in the limbo of her never-ending pleasure. She silently urged time to pass faster, because her only relief would come at the end of the half hour mark. What felt like eons passed before Tohru noticed herself getting close again, only this time Mitsuhide kept stroking her, quickening his pace. “Yes, yes, please!” she shrieked, her limbs tightening in anticipation, stomach muscles contracting as her orgasm drew closer and closer. After a couple more firm, fast passes over her clit, Tohru came, her vision whitening and ears ringing from the intensity.

From far away, Tohru felt Mitsuhide gently work her through it before he moved onto soothing up and down her sides, avoiding driving her past the point of oversensitivity. Tohru rubbed her tear-stained cheeks and eyes as she came down, body twitching with aftershocks, her cunt sporadically squeezing around Mitsuhide’s cock.

“You did well,” Mitsuhide praised, “Even at the height of your orgasm, you managed to remain still.”

Did she really? There was a long moment where Tohru was completely unaware of what was going on, and it wouldn’t have surprised her if she had moved on instinct. It was possible Mitsuhide was lying to appease her. Either way, Torhru would take it-she had no more pride to lose. Two orgasms wasn’t going to stop her from getting what she wanted, not after enduring all that.

“Will you finally fuck me now?” she asked, feeling confident enough to wriggle her hips enticingly. If Mitsuhide changed his mind now, Tohru would just knock him to the ground and ride him.

Mitsuhide laughed and carefully arranged them so that he could lay Tohru down on the blanket spread out behind them, wrapping her legs around his waist as he settled above her. “My darling vixen, I will give you everything you desire,” Mitsuhide promised as he finally, finally moved.

[sukiluvvs]

Me and my sister were talking about a momo hero costume redesign and heres what we settled on:

Open-backed romper

Sleeveless

Turtleneck?

Zipper in the front

Sports bra sewn in (bc a girl needs support)

Black with white pattern

Kinda like this, but better

The writing is just a couple of details from above (open back, sports bra, zipper)

Not quite sure how it'll work, but it's both better than her current and more practical

And they can obviously do it in red or any other color(s) if they want

But by God, she needs something better than the strip of fabric barely covering her tits that she calls a hero costume

[supernaturalsimmer67]

New Baby Infant Rompers!

Girl Version is a base game recolor

Boy Version is a new mesh by me! Thanks to @powluna for her tutorials and assistance!

Embroidery Designs by "Designs by JuJu" Patterns found on google/pinterest

76 total swatches

[radiokathryn-if]

Hello! I don't know if it's been asked but what are the RO's clothes look like? Their fashion choices, are they a fashionista or a complete fashion disaster?

Hello! I did some Research!

So to answer your second question first──I'd say that all the ROs were fashionable! However, since it's set during the turn of the decade ('72) some ROs are more fashion forward and knowledgeable than others who like/are sticking to trends from the 60s! (and a couple ROs who don't care for fashion trends and wear what they can buy!)

Side note, finding men's fashion is such a Task! I wish there was more references to style icons than the same 5 men over and over again!

The Fashion "Makers"

Nate, EVA!, José, Ji Han, FAUVE!!

The Fashion "Disasters"

MICA!, Detective Han, Jackson

NATE

"70s Glam Rock style/70s Rock Chic" 'androgenous style' Flared Trousers, Satins and Velvets, Fitted and Leather Jackets, overly cling cut satin tops and button up shirts that loose their buttons. All the jewellery━rings upon rings and necklaces for everyone. (Nate takes a necklace from every girl he hooks up with, like a conquest trophy.) Platform Boots, or metallic footwear, lots of animal print rather than paisley or floral patterns. Instead of bold and bright colours Nate, like Eva, tends to stick with earthy colour (mainly browns!) But he's not afraid to be flamboyant and wear the bold colours.

Think──Mick Jagger, Ziggy Stardust(David Bowie), Marc Bolan, Patti Smith, Stevie Nicks

EVA

"Bohemian Chic" Maxi Dresses and Peasant Blouses, Eva tends to stick with earthy and monotone colours over any kind of print. She loves trousers──Bell Bottoms that give the flowing silhouette. When she wears headwear it will always match her dress/top. She also likes the feel of Silk Satin on her skin, she wears silk nightdresses to bed and satin outfits on a night out. She's not the biggest fan of Fur or Robes but she has a few items in her closet to keep with the trends. Eva also loves a full suit moment!

Think──Cher, Marisa Berenson, Farrah Fawcett, Blanca Pérez-Mora Macías(Bianca Jagger), Faye Dunaway

MICA

"Hodgepodge/Eclectic Style". Mica does not care for fashion however, literally all of they do (including fashionable!MC) meaning they can't get away with being a disaster or a walking nightwear/pyjamas model.

Think──Being Dressed/Influenced by Nate, Eva, fashionable!MC and José. lmao

DETECTIVE HAN

"Leather/70s Casual" Ha! Hahaha! Fashion sense? What their mother bought them──comfortable and practical save for their leather jacket (from their father.) They don't care for fashion and will stand out around fashion forward people (and not in the good way.) However, they never look like a disaster and their outfits always come across as curated and planned (even if they're not) which gives them style points!

Think──Debbie Harry, Cheryl Tiegs, Diane Keaton, Clint Eastwood

JOSÉ

"60s Mod/70s Hippie/70s Disco" Wrap Dresses, Halter Necks, High Waisted skirts or trousers, sometimes even shorts, Playsuit/Rompers. Lots of accessories, though José likes to wear the jewellery their siblings and mother maker them. Platform shoes over strappy sandals because they're not the best at balancing. José's sense of style is very wide and they don't care to keep up with trends──they know what they like and they like what they look good in!

Think──Grace Jones, Twiggy, Jimi Hendrix, Joni Mitchell, Diane Von Furstenberg, Beverly Johnson, Hazel(model)

JI HAN

"Sophisticated 70s/Casual Punk" Turtle or Roll Neck shirts, wide legged trousers over bell bottoms, but he prefers a nice pair of straight cut jeans. Very casual in his personal style, but he does like layering──mainly layering shirts. Ji Han is open to style tips and will definitely take them from a fashionable!MC! (If any MC gives him an accessory, he will wear it always, even if it doesn't go with the rest of the outfit.)

Think──Elton John, Mick Jagger, Richard Carpenter, Yves Saint Laurent

FAUVE

"Hippie Chic/Flower Child" Ruffles, Fringe and Fur and Colour and Pattern Mixing, paisley print and florals, block colours and stripes──Lace and Satin and Corduroy. Fauve is The Most fashionable out of all the ROs. She keeps on top of trends while also curating her own personal style. She subconsciously inspires the people she's around on a day to day to dress better. People go to her for style advice! Fauve also love hair accessories like headbands or bandanas, headscarves (and neckscarves!) Or something simple like a thin braided belt tied around the head (calling back to the 60s flower power movement!) Fauve is more a fan of over the knee platform boots but still has an extensive collection of shoes that include Clogs, Platform Sandals, Loafers and more casual shoes like Woven Espadrilles or trainers.

Think──Patti Boyd, Twiggy, Diana Ross, Jane Fonda, Lauren Hutton, Jerry Hall, Nadia Cassini

JACKSON

"70s Athleisure/Casual" polo shirts, casual footwear like Adidas or Puma trainers, tracksuit jackets. Pattern shirts. Denim jackets, Knitwear jumpers/sweaters. Most of his style comes from what his almost-ex wife curated for him, and he's trying to distance himself from it leaving him with little fashion knowledge and just going along with what he buys in store. He consultants his daughter about his fashion sometimes but she is and 8 year old so he's not sure how accurate her advice can be.

Think──George Best, Marvin Gaye, Terrance Stamp, James Hunt

???

spoilery! I can come back to them when they're not a Secret anymore?

[booksandchainmail]

Pale 10.c

She chewed on her bottom lip with teeth that had first become fangs, then subdivided into lesser teeth, years ago now.

you know, I always picture creatures who gain lots of teeth as growing new ones from scratch, not bifurcating the ones that exist, but I guess this works too

Nibble was kind and good and funny when he let his guard down, which seemed to be a thing that was rarer and rarer, but he did have his downsides, and one of those downsides was that every time she wore one of these two rompers she liked, short sleeved, short legged, one piece, buttons down the front, floral pattern, he’d drop an idle comment about how he didn’t ‘get’ certain fashion.

rude! Those sound fun

Her ribs, as she pressed the claw against skin, weren’t smooth forms anymore. Beneath the skin, they were five or six-sided, with hard, sharp, distinct edges, and they forked and bent like they wanted to be lightning bolts, some digging deep into and around organs.

now this is some body horror

It hadn’t happened right away, but as they’d been made to lash out at each other, the group had started picking her every time.

I'm putting Chloe's backstory up there with the Hungry Choir for fucked up bits of worldbuilding

“I missed showers,” she said, and it sounded so small compared to the depth of what she’d felt. “Running water, Chloe. No running water.”

man this is depressing

One stack of boxes was arranged to put the music player beside the head of the bed.  Another had paper towels laid out on a baking sheet, and a dismembered limb sat there, thawing. It almost looked like the beginnings of a bedroom, now.

I like the casual cannibalism inclusion

"The worst is one where we have no choice but to fight and the outcome is decided against us."

the kind of fight Alexander liked to set up

“And who’s we?” Nibble asked. “Yet to be fully decided. Give it until the end of Summer, Others will entrench and I’ll give you a firmer answer about who is on our side."

So three sides to this, at least. The original conspirators + allies, the girls, and Crooked Rook looking to hang back and look for advantages. Nibble and Chloe with Rook, Tashlit and Snowdrop and John with the girls, Cig with Edith and Matthew?

“I know I’m a burden, I’m struggling, and you have to help me too often, Nib, but I- I need that.” “You’re not a- I don’t mind helping, Chloe, I don’t mind if you’re a bit of a burden sometimes. I mean, I worry, I do, but it’s-”

There was a couple in a screened-in porch, booming with life in a very rhythmic way. She smiled, and drew closer to Nibble. He kissed her when she looked up at his face.

does this count as voyeurism?

A man approached on the path, and Nibble led the two of them on a different course, so they wouldn’t walk too close to him.  He didn’t look like a guy out for a hike, but to Chloe, he didn’t look like much.  He didn’t boom with Life, and what Life he did have was dark gray against the evening backdrop.  He drew on a cigarette, and a thread of blackness snaked its way in through his lower face and upper chest.

I'm worried this is the witch hunter, given how much description he's given here. Fuck. I don't think Nibble and Chloe would do well against him. And looks like they weren't given Edith's warning.

“I don’t know.  I’m trying to think about it in terms of… if they’re not convincing us to do something specific, is it pushing us to do something in a secret way?  Or manipulating us, or using something about us?  If we were more like some of the stronger ghouls Faith talked about, and made things more Death-oriented around us, that’d be one thing.”

I don't know either! I guess ghouls are also tied to violence and flesh, which has synergy with the Carmine Beast furs? Or they could be a flashy, dangerous distraction?

“Who?” she whispered. “Matthew and Edith. For reinforcements.” She nodded. “They didn’t answer the phone, so I texted.”

deliberately not answering to let them die blame-free?

The two practitioners, Lucy, Avery, Snowdrop, and a fourth girl she didn’t recognize, with messy blond hair that looked like it had been tightly braided and then left with that waviness that came with braiding.

is this Louise's cabin? Bad that the witch hunter is near by, but potentially good that the girls can reinforce the ghouls

[anmolsmsblog]

Infant Boy Girl Halloween Animal Costume Newborn Baby Flannel Hooded Rompers Fall Winter Long Sleeve Fleece Bodysuit

Price: (as of – Details) Product Description Infant Boy Girl Halloween Animal Costume Cute fleece animals rompers for infant baby Halloween costumes fall outfits can withstand even the most active of baby. Newborn Baby Flannel Hooded Romper Newborn baby flannel bodysuit has long sleeve, hooded, crotch buttons are convenient for diaper changing, animal pattern makes your baby more…

[thedesertexchange]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Vintage Osh Kosh Baby B Gosh Corduroy Floral Overalls Baby Girls Size 6-9 Months.

[sweatermakers]

pullover oversized manufacturer,sweaters inkopen Producer, women cardigan for Producer

YS Sweater Manufacturer https://knittedsweater.net

email: yisweaterfactory@gmail.com

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