#green pillbox hat

[poppingmary]

Brunette Doris Day in “It’s a Great Feeling” - 1949

Costumes by Milo Anderson

[thesullengrrrl]

mother!

ao3 link here. hello friends, it's been a while! apologies, apologies, but we're here now. i've been wanting to explore meet the parents situation, and i hope i did it justice lol. thank you for being here and i hope you enjoy this one! 💓

“Mr. Rosenthal, there’s someone to see you.” 

The motherly voice of Mrs. Lowell tore his gaze from the letter he was writing. Rosie stared at the woman for a second and then next to the diary of his appointments for the day. His watch said it was ten-thirty in the morning. 

“I thought my next meeting would be at one?” he asked back, leaning back to his chair. “Who is it?” 

“Said her name is Alice Halford,” Mrs. Lowell replied. “She said she’s Miss Elaine’s mother.”

As if on cue, the phone rang. The two shared a curious look as Rosie picked up the phone. “Robert Rosenthal, speaking.” 

“Oh thank fuck! I’ve been trying to reach you!” the voice on the other line gushed, her words rushing out of her mouth like she’s being chased. “She’s in town, she just came to the office and I know she’s gonna—” 

“Darling, darling, slow down,” Rosie answered, trying to calm her down. “Who is in town?” 

“My mother!” 

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Your mother? Any chance her name is Alice Halford?”

“What the hell? She’s there? Fuck! But yes, that’s her,” Elaine answered him, confirming the identity of the woman on the other side of the door. He gave Mrs. Lowell a thumbs up. “I’m so sorry, baby, I know she’ll be arriving tomorrow, not today!” 

“She’s arriving tomorrow and you didn’t tell me?” 

“Well…” she paused. “I was about to tell you tonight. She beat me to it, obvs. You’ll be okay? I could run from here—” 

Rosie chuckled at the image of Elaine running in her heels and skirt just to help him out. “No, baby. I’ll be fine. Anything I should know?”

“She can be a bit intimidating, blonde…might tell you stories about my childhood, if she does, tell me what she told you,” she instructed him. 

“So like you except that she’s blonde?” 

He heard her snort. “Shut up . But yeah, maybe. All right. Call me after or just tell me when you get here later. Love you. I’m so sorry about this.” 

“Don’t worry, baby. It’ll be fine. I love you. See you later.” 

“See you later.” 

The phone was back to its receiver. Mrs. Lowell just came in and found him filing his papers into a neat pile, returning his law books to its places, and he handed her the cup of coffee that had gone cold.

“Oh, um, let her in, Mrs. Lowell, please,” he said, nodding. She picked up a piece of fluff on his shoulder, then tapped both comfortingly. 

She gave him a look as if telling him to be careful. As Mrs. Lowell got out, he shifted into his seat. The door swung open.

There she was. A slender, blonde woman in her fifties, wearing a blue suit dress with matching gloves and pillbox hat entered his office. Her eyes lingered at the interiors, until her gaze landed on him. 

Alice Halford could pass as one of the wives of his senior lawyers—confident and poised. The only thing that was familiar to him was her eyes. They both share the same shade of green eyes—soft, sage-like, with a hint of mystery to them. Is this what Elaine’s going to look like in the future?

The woman studied his face for a second. Extending her hand, she spoke. “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Rosenthal. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” 

Rosie shook her hand, hoping that his grip wasn’t too firm or limp, and motioned her on one of the chairs. “No, no, please.” 

“What can I do for you, Mrs. Halford?” he asked gingerly, unsure what he could actually do. His toothy grin turned into a thin line, as he remembered his snaggletooth. What would she say if her daughter’s fiancé can’t even get his teeth fixed?

“There’s a café a block away,” she replied, slightly leaning towards him. “Are you free right now?” 

------------

With two cups of hot beverages and a plate of sandwiches for both of them, Alice sipped her coffee and glanced at Rosie. She can see that the young man was surprised by her visit, since she told Elaine they would all meet later that night. But with nothing to do with her free time, she decided to go to his law firm to get to know the man her daughter is marrying. 

In a way, she was also doing this for her ex-husband. She knew that Hal wouldn't see his only daughter as much as he did before, and he trusted her to judge his character. 

They both knew his details and achievements through the internet, but that’s it. He has an air of quiet confidence from him and yet, she can sense the nervousness in him as well. 

With his height, build, and mustache, Robert Rosenthal reminded her of the films that she, Hal, and Elaine used to watch during the holidays. A young Clarke Gable, perhaps? A mix of Gable with the facial hair and Stewart with his demeanor.

“Can I call you Rosie?” Alice asked, smiling at him to make him feel at ease. “Or do you prefer Robert?” 

“Robert is fine, ma’am,” Rosie nodded. Years of facing war and demanding clients did not prepare him for this. He would be more relaxed if Elaine’s with him, but she’s still at the office and won’t be meeting her until dinner.

“Robert it is then,” she said, gently tearing a sandwich apart and taking a bite. “So, you want to marry Elaine.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“I’m not going to lie, I never thought I’d see the day,” she scoffed, then sipping her coffee. “The reason why I came to see you was because I wanted to get to know the man who made my daughter settle down...” 

“Oh, um—” 

“In 1947. You must be an outstanding person for her to take a chance on you.” 

Heat rushed to his cheeks. “That’s…very kind of you.”

Alice now leaned towards the table. Her darker green eyes are now serious. It reminded him of Elaine’s except with crow’s feet and blond eyelashes. “I’m not gonna beat around the bush now, Robert. You love her?”

“Yes, Mrs. Halford, I do,” Rosie answered, with his eyes steady against hers. “I think I may have loved her longer than I knew.”

“What do you love about her?” 

Her smile. Those sage eyes twinkling every time she sees him after a long day of work. The way she twirls around to let him see her outfit whenever they go out. The way she encourages him to share his burdens with her. How she tries to bond with his family—whether it’s going to the synagogue or spending time in their home. The way she makes his life bigger in some way or another, whether it’s through different perspectives or as small as exploring other neighborhoods. 

“Elaine makes me laugh, she loves my family, she challenges me…she makes my life bigger than I could imagine for myself. And I hope everyday I do the same for her, Mrs. Halford,” he answered in the clearest and sincerest voice he could muster. 

Alice Halford leaned back to the chair, nodding at what he just told her. She sipped her now-cold coffee, not letting him show it bothered her for a moment. None of her daughter’s former boyfriends had shown this type of sincerity whenever she meets them. Maybe it’s a generational thing, she thought. Maybe Elaine found a gem that night. 

Rosie’s expression remained serious, but she could see a flicker of unease under her gaze. He faced the war, he faced tough clients, but none prepared him to be observed by another woman who was both older and younger than him at the same time.

“My daughter can be difficult sometimes, do you know that?” Alice asked, her expression now less serious. “Can be brutally honest too. She once screamed at me for having her.”

“I had seen glimpses of it.” He thought of the time he approached the topic of learning how to drive, which only resulted in a discussion about New York public transportation and safety. 

“And her sense of humor might be a bit too much for your taste or your family.” 

Elaine once told a dry joke about men that offended some during a party they attended. “I’m aware of it, and I think she’s learning to tone it down, but I’m not going to lie, it’s funnier when she doesn’t.”

“Do you understand that she will always have a different set of beliefs than you do?” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“And you don’t expect her to convert to Judaism?” 

“No, Mrs. Halford,” he replied, shaking his head. “It’s one of the last things I expect her to do.”

“Her father has a male partner. As in a romantic partner. They live together in England,” she continued, now curious on how he would answer her next question. “How do you feel about it?” 

“I was surprised, to be honest, Mrs. Halford,” he admitted. Rosie remembered the time when Elaine told him and it baffled him. “I never met anyone with two fathers and a mother.” 

Alice nodded, wondering whether Elaine coached him or it was a sincere thought. She reached for her purse and pulled a white envelope.

“Hal, that’s my ex-husband, wanted me to give you this,” Alice pushed a slightly bloated white envelope towards him. “He’s a bit upset he’s never gonna see her get married or meet you, so this is him introducing himself and David.” 

“David?” 

“His husband."

The envelope was hefty, he noted, as he picked it up. 

The details on the envelope read the following:

To the son-in-law I will never meet,

Take care of her. Take care of each other.

I wish you both a lifetime of happiness and good luck.

—H. Byrne

There was a certain ache to the first line he wrote. Him and Hal will never meet, shake hands, see eye to eye both literally and figuratively…yet they are still connected through his fiancé. It’s funny how life works sometimes.

“Robert, before I let you go, I just have one more question,” she remarked, pushing her coffee cup away and breaking his reverie. 

“What is it, ma’am?”

“Has Elaine told you that this time travel ability is genetic?” 

“I, uh…I inferred that when she informed me that she could time travel.” 

“It affects first born females in our family,” she continued. “I’m a firstborn, Elaine is an only child. If you have an eldest daughter, she might have the ability…”

Rosie braced himself for the next question.

“Are you ready for that?”

“There’s a first time for everything,” he answered, hoping it would be enough. How could a father who has no time traveling ability help raise a child that might? “I’m sure Elaine will know how to handle it when the time comes.” 

“Oh. You’re not gonna help her?” she cocked her head on the side, her eyes narrowing.

“I will, ma’am,” Rosie assured her. “I will make sure to keep both of them from harm.” 

After what seemed to be hours of questioning, a smirk appeared from Alice’s face, which gave him some relief. 

“With us, you’re not very sure. But I do appreciate you saying that.” 

She raised her hand for their bill. When it arrived, she glanced at it and Rosie insisted on paying. “Please, Mrs. Halford, let me.” 

“Oh no, dear, it’s all right,” she answered as she quickly laid some bills and coins. Putting on her gloves, she waved her hand at him. “Don’t worry about it. Next time, you pay.”

The two exited the café and Rosie checked his watch. He still has an hour before his meeting. 

“I’ll walk you back to your hotel, ma’am,” he offered as they stood on the sidewalk.

“There’s no need, you still need to prepare for your meeting, right?” 

“How did you know about that?” 

“I looked at your secretary’s diary. I’m sorry,” she apologized, raising her hands. 

The pair looked at each for a moment. Alice watched Rosie fidget with his hands, as if waiting to tell her something. 

“Come on, Robert, spill it.” 

He sighed in relief. “Mrs. Halford, do I have your approval?” 

Alice quirked an eyebrow. “Approval? Whatever for?” 

“To marry your daughter.” 

“You mean my blessing?”

“Is it different?” 

“Oh darling, it is,” Alice replied, placing a hand on his arm. She gave him a smile. “Laney’s approval is what you need, not mine. But I’m giving you my blessing. You seem like a good man for her.” 

“Thank you, ma’am. I truly appreciate it.” 

Alice Halford winked at him. A cab arrived and to his surprise, she whistled at it using her fingers. It was loud and effective, as the cab immediately went on their way. She opened the door and gave him one last look. 

“I’ll see you soon, Robert.”

------------

Alice Halford last visited Minton’s in 2023, when Elaine was still working there. Tonight, in 1947, she entered the same establishment, which is grittier than what she experienced in 2023. Despite the clouds of smoke, smell of cigar, darker interiors, it had more character. 

As someone who time traveled around New York throughout the decades, she will always think that her hometown will always have more character in the past than the present. 

Impressed that they managed to get seats, quickly, she ordered her usual—two fingers of scotch on the rocks. Elaine ordered a gin and tonic, while Rosie had a whiskey. 

Minty was there as well, and joined them. 

He invited Alice to dance when a lively Benny Goodman piece started being played. Elaine and Rosie immediately moved closer together, his hand on the back of her chair. 

“So, how was your conversation with mom?” Elaine wondered, sipping her gin and tonic. “Still wanna marry me?” 

She laid her drink on the table and placed her palm under her chin, staring at him with curiosity. This made Rosie brush a finger on her cheek.

“Of course. Mrs. Halford is a blond version of you,” he replied, the corner of his mouth curling into a smirk. 

“Appears out of nowhere, asks me hard questions, and insists on paying the bill…” 

“Ah, good to know that I’m still my mother’s daughter,” she nodded knowingly. “Were you scared?” 

“A little,” he admitted, sighing. “Almost felt like I was in an interrogation.” 

“No!” Elaine placed her hand over her mouth, giggling. “What did she ask? Nothing very serious, I hope.” 

“They were…reasonable questions. She just wanted to make sure that I’m good enough for you.”

“You think you did well?” 

Rosie raised his shoulders. “Hopefully, I did. But she gave me her blessing, so I guess I did pass her test.” 

Elaine only hummed. “Why was I ever in doubt?”

“Is this what you feel like whenever you’re with Ma?” 

“Yeah, at first, but I guess I just learned how to lean into it. Facing your fears, something, something.” 

“You’re afraid of Ma?” 

Elaine stared at him with disbelief. “I want your mom to like me! I think your mother activated my people-pleasing tendencies!”  

His head fell back in laughter and then he gathered her into his arms. She hugged him back, laughing with him. 

“Ma likes you, don’t worry,” he assured her, kissing the top of her head. “How long is she gonna stay here?” 

“Until the wedding’s over. She wanted to help with whatever she can,” she answered. “We should all have lunch or dinner with everyone—you, me, mom, your Ma, Hannah, David…”

“That sounds nice,” he agreed. “Maybe the weekend? Hannah and David have work.” 

“We’ll set it, we’ll set it,” Elaine assured him, smiling at him. As her eyes wandered back to the dance floor, she saw her mother and Minty clapping at the end of the song. They walked back to their table, demanding an exchange of partners. 

“Let’s switch partners, lovebirds,” Alice playfully demanded, motioning her hand towards Rosie. “Come on, son.”

“Mom, we’re talking,” Elaine groaned, lifting herself from her chair as Minty gently pulled her to dance with him. “You just want to dance with him because he reminds you of Clarke Gable!” 

“That’s not true!” she defended, her hands now on Rosie’s arms. “Also you two will have plenty of time together so let me dance with my son-in-law now. Sharing is caring, honey.”

“Clarke Gable!” Minty repeated, laughing as they walked to the dance floor. “Rosie…Clarke Gable!” 

“One more laugh and I’m gonna get insulted!” Rosie ribbed, making the older man laugh even more. He took Alice’s hand and led her to the floor.

As another song started, Elaine and Rosie looked at each other across the room while they swayed to the music with their respective partners. She playfully rolled her eyes at him, while he gave her a look that said ‘behave’. 

He then mouthed ‘I love you’ at her, which Elaine replied with a flying kiss and repeated the same words at him.

[sophie-hatter-jenkins]

Miss

Written for @hinnymicrofic December 2023 - Prompt 3

So - after chatting on Discord about a Muggle AU story I’m (maybe) writing, I woke up with this in my head. Did I look for a prompt that I could somehow vaguely attach it to? Yes. Yes I did.

Rating - Teen and Upwards, for a bit of bad language and some slightly racy content.

It was late evening, and Harry Potter, Private Investigator, was in his office. His suit, once sharply tailored, was rumpled and threadbare, his appearance made respectable only by his polished boots and fedora hat. The only source of light was from the brass lamp on the battered desk in front of him, the one with the cracked, green glass shade, casting shadows across the peeling wallpaper. A dented filing cabinet and an elderly coat stand occupied opposite corners, somehow making the room feel even emptier and more down at heel.

Potter could have gone home, but what for? Just swapping one empty room for another didn’t appeal to him. Besides, instincts honed over years as an investigator told him that now wasn’t the moment to leave. He poured himself a shot of cheap whiskey from the bottle he kept in the drawer, and leaned back in his chair, putting his feet up on the desk, waiting. 

Sure enough, in the distance, he heard the sound of heels clacking against the tiled corridor outside, drawing ever closer. Moments later he saw her, just the outline of a dame through the frosted glass. She hesitated outside, looking left then right, checking that she was unobserved, before raising her hand to knock. 

“Come in,” he called.

Potter stood, as the dame opened the door and slid into the room, his eyebrows raising a little, because she was an absolute knock-out. Her red hair fell in perfect waves down the side of her face, where wide, wanton eyes blazed brown above cherry painted lips. She wore a pillbox hat, and a trench coat belted at the waist hinted at a bombshell figure hidden below.

“Are you Harry Potter? The private detective?” she asked, her voice low and breathy.

He shrugged, playing it cool. “That’s what it says on the door. How can I help you, Miss…?

She dropped her chin and looked up at him seductively, lips curling into a smile. “Weasley. Ginevra Weasley.”

Potter moved around the side of the desk and approached her. “Let me take your coat, Miss Weasley,”

Obediently, she slipped out of the coat and handed it to him, and he tried not to stare when the dress below was revealed, cut demurely but clinging to every curve of her body as sinfully as anything he’d ever seen. 

The dame turned and leaned back against his desk, her palms spread to either side of her and her hips turned to the side, ankles crossed, looking like a goddamn oil painting. She fixed Potter with those alluring brown eyes again. “I need your help, Detective. I believe I’m in danger,” she announced, dramatically.

Potter moved a little closer to her, intrigued. “Danger, you say? What… kind of danger?”

“Yes! I’m being threatened! Followed!” The dame lifted her hand to her chest dramatically, tilting her chin upwards, showing him a long expanse of pale throat. “I’m scared for my life, detective! Can you… protect me?” She turned her face towards him, her expression beseeching and her scarlet lips parted.

Potter took a step towards her. “Well, Miss Weasley. I’m afraid that protection isn’t normally part of the services I offer.”

“But, you’re the best, Mr Potter!” she protested. “Everyone knows that. Name your price!”

Now Potter was standing right in front of her, towering over her. His pulse quickened. “I don’t think you’re ready to pay it, Miss Weasley,” he growled.

She gazed up at him, defiant, pupils dilated, perfect breasts heaving with her rapid breathing. “Oh, Mr Potter,” she whispered, raising her hand and placing it softly against his chest. “I assure you that I am.”

For a moment, they stayed like that, frozen in time. Then unable to hold back any longer, he wrapped one arm around her waist, pulling her up towards him. Their lips met in a kiss that was urgent and messy, filled with hunger and need, mouths open, tongues connecting.

Potter pushed the dame back against his desk, and she curled her stockinged leg around behind his calf as he ran his hand up her thigh. She, in turn, pulled at the waistband of his trousers, untucking his shirt, letting her fingers trail across the taut skin of his abdomen, the muscles tingling at her cool touch. 

Just at that moment, the door burst open. Potter and the dame sprang apart as a tall, red-headed man strolled in. 

“What the fuck are you doing here Ron?” demanded Harry, blushing furiously, attempting to tuck himself back in as quickly as possible.

“Oh!” exclaimed Ron, looking surprised. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting you to be here at this time of night. We’ve been out for dinner, and Hermione thought she must have left her umbrella in here when she was down here to review the case prep earlier so I said I’d pop in and grab for her.”

“Merlin, Ron! You had to pick tonight to be helpful?” asked Ginny, tugging the hem of her dress back down.

“Ginny! You’re here too?” Ron greeted her cheerfully. “But… why would you be here, at this time of night?” Slowly, he looked around, taking in his surroundings for the first time, appearing confused. “What the fuck have you done to your office, Harry? Have you transfigured it? And… why are you dressed like that?” Then a horrible realisation seemed to creep across Ron’s face. “Oh fucking hell - is this… did I just walk into some sort of sex game?”

Harry couldn’t meet his eyes. “Erm…”

“No!” spat Ron. “Forget I asked - I do not want to know! I am leaving now, and we are never mentioning this again.”

“Er, Ron?” said Harry, as Ron turned to leave. Ron glanced back, and Harry sheepishly handed him the errant umbrella. Ron snatched it from his hand and scuttled out.

Utterly mortified, Harry looked to where his wife was still sitting on his desk, to find that her eyes were dancing with amusement. She burst out into a peel of giggles as he glowered at her. 

“Well I’m glad you find it amusing,” he muttered, raising his wand. “Finite!”

Harry’s office blurred a little around them, and then was suddenly returned to the much more familiar, and far less scruffy, office the Head Auror usually inhabited.

“Oh, relax, Harry. You don’t want to pick up where we left off?” she asked him, sounding disappointed.

“I think your brother might have killed the mood a little,” he told her, wryly.

“Oh. That’s a shame,” she pouted, looking down at the floor. Then she straightened her back, crossed her legs and shot him a look filled with some much fire that he inhaled sharply. “It’s just that my house is in a rough neighbourhood,” she told him, her voice soft and breathy again, “and I thought that maybe Potter P.I. could escort me home and check that there aren’t any bad guys lying in wait for me?”

Harry couldn’t help smirking at her. His wife really was both incorrigible, and irresistible. He retrieved her trench coat from the (now much less shabby) rack by the door and handed it to her. “Well, since you asked so nicely, I guess I could help out. You know me - I never could resist a dame in distress.”

[cressida-jayoungr]

One Dress a Day Challenge

Black and White October

Funny Face / Kay Thompson as Maggie Prescott

The big joke of the "Think Pink" number is that Maggie pitches the idea in this black-and-white suit, and while everything around her gets pinker and pinker, she continues to dress in black, white, and grey. When someone finally asks her about it, she says, dismissively, "Oh, I couldn't be bothered."

As I look more closely at the screencaps, I wonder if the suit might actually be midnight blue, but since that was billed as "blacker than black," I think it counts for the theme.

She wears the suit in two different scenes, with what appear to be two different white shirts. One of them has an added scarf or a scarf-collar, which is fastened with a statement brooch in green and red. The jacket has three-quarter-length sleeves, which allow for the long white gloves. I also like the pillbox hat and the T-strap shoes.

[henriediosa]

there she is. chicago's most fucked-up tradwife. my vampire: the masquerade player character, lulee spencer/butler/porter née sargent! she's a toreador who loves baking and dancing, and she's just really excited to be married again. she just likes being a wife. it's totally not because she needs protection before the vampire government finds out about her two human children. i wrote lulee's backstory and it's up on ao3 (please read the tags for content notes):

alt text in the image description and under the cut.

(1) a watercolour and digital portrait of lulee, from the waist up. she has the appearance of a young white woman with red hair in big curls. she is wearing dark red lipstick, pearl earrings, a pearl necklace, and a black dress with a square neckline and short sleeves. the dress is painted so it blends in with the black and grey background, which also has a dark vignette. she has an uncertain smile. (2) four simple drawings of lulee, like paper dolls, wearing different outfits, labelled in cursive. "interview & escape": a black pillbox hat, a mint green tea-length dress, a light brown cardigan with cardigan clips, a small black purse, and black pumps. "night out": the pillbox hat, white pearl earrings and necklace, a black tea-length dress with a white belt, white gloves, and black mary janes. "yes, chef!": a hairnet, the white pearls, the mint dress, and a frilly pink apron with a heart on it. she's holding a dark green muffin tin. "wedding 1952": a white floor-length gown with long, lacy sleeves; a large bouquet of black roses; long white gloves; a white crown and a veil. ID ends.

[askthechronoverse]

The last of four short stories I have written for supplemental purposes. Takes place after everything else I've written so far.

The clicking of a keyboard was the only sound that could be heard in the sterile and clinical lab. A lone figure was the source of the oddly melodic sounds, her paws orange barely visible and her expression stern and focused. Her tail swayed to the rhythm of her typing as she made music with her large computer. Her music was visual, displayed on the monitor as various graphs, charts, and figures. Most of it would make no sense to a passerby, save for the images of two people. One was a man with wild dark brown hair who's eyes reflected a deep, almost spiritual tiredness. The other had dark grey hair that was adorned with a simple grey pillbox hat. His expression was neutral, almost bland. The fox tapped a mouse with an impatient paw, clicking into a diagnostic screen for a Project Daffodil. She clicked her tongue as she went over the diagnostics, a smirk slowly sliding onto her face. It was working. She should have guessed it would: doing this kind of task was just a normal occurrence for a scientific mind like hers.

She took her paw off of her mouse and sauntered to a small, nearby capsule. The capsule was smooth and black, several different kinds of tubes and wires making it look like a baby kraken in the dim light. The fox tapped the glass with her paw, the blackness parting to reveal something moving in water. She shook her head, ear twitching at the rapid movement. It was almost time, but her special project had to be patient for just a little longer. Perfection takes time, after all. She shuffled over to the console again and grabbed a jar. The jar had only two objects in it: a dim grey heart and a bright green heart. Both seemed to glow softly, ebbing in time with each other. She watched this dance for a moment, smiling at how coordinated it all was.

She looked back at the capsule, seeing the movement once again. The end was near. She could take her time with this, however. She had so much to prepare first, so much to do before the time finally came.

A soft hum made the fox sigh. She glanced back at the two hearts. The memory of gathering the samples was vivid as she looked back. They were symbols of pure love, created when the two men on her large monitor kissed for the first time as a married couple. She had been studying what she can do with these totems for a long time and this was the best thing she could think of doing. Grabbing the jar, the fox headed once more to the capsule, opening a small hatch. She carefully put both hearts into the hatch, closing it quickly.

Now to wait, the worst part of the process. She went back to the monitor and watched the screen. After what felt like an eternity, an alert flashed on her screen. The end was here. She typed some commands in the keyboard and rushed to the capsule, which was already open on her approach. A long cry cut through the evening air, coming from a bundle wrapped in soft, blue fabric with yellow stars creating a cartoony nebula in the open container. The fox peeked in to see the result of her careful testing.

"Success," was all she uttered as she picked up the noisy bundle. "Now. Normally I would dispose of you, but you are special." The fox bounced, the noise stopping in due time. "Let's not wake the castle. We'll go for a walk." She held the bundle in her arms and shuffled out the door, a small square robot following behind her.

The fox passed through the town, which was clearly getting ready for Halloween. Posters advertised a costume party for Halloween night. Leaves playfully circled her feet as she walked toward the woods, the smell of nature in fall making her nose crinkle. Nature. She wasn't a fan of nature. Why did they have to live so far into the woods? Oh well. It didn't matter, she supposed. She wasn't going to be there long. She'd just have to distract herself with mathematical equations and calculations for her next major experiment.

While the fox made her trek, the man with tired eyes was busy in the kitchen. He whistled a song he'd thought he'd forgotten as he mixed a white, creamy liquid in a pot.

"Hey, babe? We goin' to the party? I know ya gotta go, but are we goin'?" He grabbed a cutting board and waited for a reply. He soon got one from the grey haired man, who floated over to the maplewood bar and watched the other work.

"I would love nothing more than for you to go, my beloved. We could do a themed costume, if it isn't too late for that." His bright smile was the most expression he was giving, as his voice gave nothing in that department. "Would it be too late to attempt that?"

"Nah, it's never too late to beat Brock and Frown for the best couple costume award. They were stiff competition last year, but we just needta be clever ta beat them. Ya got something' in mind?" As Rex spoke, he began to chop some carrots and potatoes.

"We could dress up as the characters from that movie I showed you the other day. I'm surprised you stayed awake until the end. I know you prefer action films to period pieces." Richard floated behind his boyfriend, willing his feet to touch the wood flooring. Rex turned around and leaned down to kiss him softly.

"I almost did, babe. But, we can do that. Am I gonna be Lady Pemblebrick or Lord Bricklebottom? I should have time to grab some very period accurate pieces after work tomorrow." He turned back to the pot, adding some herbs to the stew.

"You know I look better in a corset, but you have her passion and hair type. If we want to win, you will need to tame that cowlick of yours, but if I'm Lord Bricklebottom, we can easily win." There was a twinkle in Richard's eye as he spoke, his voice still monotone. He floated to the counter, perching there with crossed legs.

"I find it hard to say no to you, babe. I'll even wear the heels. We gotta win this year. It's gettin' embarrassing to get beaten by those two!"

A loud knock from the front door crashed through the banter, Richard sighing softly as he floated toward the door to open it. Just before he reached the door, it swung open with sizable force. This startled both occupants of the cabin, a green exclamation mark appearing over Rex's head.

"Oh! Doctor Fox! Did you walk all this way? It's supposed to start raining soon." Richard saw that Doctor Fox and the robot were already wet and the rain was coming down heavily. "Come in. You'll get a cold."

"It's not me you should be worrying about." The words ominously hung in the air as she entered the cabin, the bundle she held close to her chest starting to stir.

"Who else would we worry about, Doc? The robot?" Rex went back to the pot on the stove. "We should have enough stew for ya if ya wanna stay a while." Doctor Fox sat at the counter, Richard once again perching on it.

"I was just planning on dropping something off and leaving." She put the bundle down on the counter and started to leave. She didn't get far before Richard picked it up and unwrapped it to reveal a round little face, dark eyes staring up at him with a blank calmness. His heart stopped as he stared back at the thing. He whistled for Rex to turn around, which he did. He walked over to his husband and was handed the bundl with shaking hands.

"What... what is..." Richard spoke breathlessly. "Why us?"

"It's a girl and she's yours, genetically speaking. I wanted to see if your DNA would be compatible, since you still have traces of your brickness and Rex is something else altogether. It worked." She looked at the couple for a sign of a possible compliment, but all she got was a shaking Richard and a Rex on the verge of tears. "You could thank me or something, guys."

"... Our daughter? This is our daughter?" Rex swallowed, eyes solely on the little girl. She made fussy little sounds, squirming a little.

"Doctor Fox, you should have said something first. We don't have room in this cabin for a third person and we both work. One of us will need to take time off to take care of her until she is out of infant-" Richard looked around and saw that Doctor Fox had left. He shook his head. "Rex, what are we going to do?"

"Rich. We can do this. I can renovate the cabin and I can afford to take time off." Rex held the child close to him, almost afraid she was going to vanish if he let go.

"Rex. You just got the Royal Chrononauts off the ground and financially viable a year ago. You can't afford to lose that momentum." Richard urged, worry and fear framing the monotone in his voice.

"You and I both know ya ain't gonna be the one to stop working for that long. I can afford it. Besides, the one picking up my slack would be the exact person who put us in this... amazing position." The tears continued to flow as Rex walked to the couch and grabbed a clean blanket and rewrapped the baby in it. "We get back at her for throwing this on us, I finally get time off work that isn't for some science talk or to visit Emmet and we get to... to start a family." Rex moved back to his husband, who had taken the stew off the burner.

"...You know, you can tell she's our little girl. She has your eyes." Richard floated by Rex's side, watching the little girl fuss in her tight wrappings.

“Well yeah. She has one of your eyes too. Two different colors.” Rex chuckled as he loosened the blanket a little for her. 

 "If you're ready, I'll be as well.” Richard whispered. “I do recall that Lady Pemblebrick and Lord Bricklebottom had a child at the end of the novel the film was based on. We may have to just compete for best group costume this year.

[royalhouseofcarrington]

The Style Evolution of Queen Elissa of Carrington (King's Day Edition Part 2)

See Part 1, her Crown Princess looks, here!

Now a mom of four, Elissa wore a plum skirt-suit and matching hat to King's Day as she rode in the carriage for her first year as Queen, with the white bow in her hat perfectly coordinating with the white bow on her dress.

For her second year as Queen, Elissa wore sunshine yellow and a matching hat, which she paired with the Genovian Diamond and Pearl necklace, which later became a favorite of her daughter, Anastasia.

While expecting the Princes Robert and Benjamin, the Queen took a page out of the style book of other royal women that came before her, in a cerulean blue dress and a matching hat with a cream flower detail.

The year after, the Queen debuted of her least liked Trooping the Colour looks with a simple red-purple hat and a hat in a similar shade. The Queen Consort also, strangely, decided not to pair any jewelry with the look, with the exception of her engagement ring.

Wearing one of her favorite designers, Natasha Burton, again, the Queen redeemed herself the next year with a salmon pink dress and bright pink polka-dots and an equally fun hat.

The year following, Elissa channeled Jackie Kennedy for her King's Day outfit a Natasha Burton Chanel-inspired skirt-suit and matching pillbox hat in white tweed.

The following year, in her 7th year as Queen Consort, the Queen took a little page out of the book of her sister-in-law, Princess Claire, the Duchess of Asbury, in an all blue ensemble, which she paired with the Tromsø Sapphire Earrings, which had been a wedding present from her father, who had passed away earlier that year.

The year after, Queen Elissa wore a Natasha Burton purple coat dress and matching hat, which she paired with the Elphinstone Chandelier Earrings.

The year following, the Queen, now one of the most senior female members of the family, 20 years after her marriage to the now King Richard, wore a Mary Poppins-esque ensemble, combined with her pearl necklace and diamond earrings, which were reported to be wedding gifts from the late King Louis and Queen Eliza.

The next year, to mark her husband's 10th year on the throne, the Queen dressed in green with a pair of emerald earrings that reportedly belonged to Queen Helena, King Richard's grandmother.

This last year had marked the start of great change for the Queen Consort, as it was her last year wearing a color that was not red, after she had welcomed Princess Alice, the King and Queen's last child, earlier that year. Her mother, Clara, would later pass away in that year.

Stay tuned for part 3 of Queen Elissa's King's Day (and a few Queen's Day!) outfits!

[systemic-chaos]

I have a lot of design ideas for Hotel main staff (not counting the new staff cuz I'm not caught up to there yet) but I'm not very good at drawing so I'm just gonna try to describe them

Lobby Boy: roadkill, looks like the kind of corpse you'd find in a pit on the side of the road. Somehow both wet and dusty at the same time. Full of worms, stringy dark hair, basically just skin over a skeleton. Also has a pillbox hat. He would love the song 'Leopard Skin Pillbox Hat' I think. Or maybe I'm just projecting

The Manager: Looks like a corpse from a funeral home. Her skin is stretched very tight over her body, has that sort of unique dead people makeup done for funerals. I imagine that she has trouble closing her mouth due to aforementioned skin tightness. Also wearing an 80s girlboss power suit with coordinated colors for whatever lobby she's in cuz obviously.

The Owner: some sort of ritualistic bog body. Very big and bloated, slightly green around the edges. Moss and sticks in his hair, large beak like nose to fit the whole bird/raven guy thing he's got going on. Has a cloak of feathers but under that is just a normal guy's suit.

[givemogahug]

mogtober day 6- the gossamer spun garden

Ignore how I haven't done the last 3 days

In its prime the gossamer spun garden was a bright, full, bustling place full of wundersmiths creations from over the years but when morrigan goes its an empty room.

This raises some questions from me at least lol.

First off, what happened to the creations of the wundersmiths? Did they disappear when they died? But surely some of the wundersmiths who had started the garden had died by the time the ghostly hour mog saw was created. Maybe it needed to be looked after. Or maybe it was destroyed by wunsoc after squalls reign to destroy all joy made by wundersmiths?

And what about morrigans vomit green pillbox hat on a stick? She made it in the ghostly hour so when she returned was it all by itself in the room. Or does it stay in the ghostly hour forever???

Idk at this point I spend way too much time thinking about these kind of things.

Anyway happy mogtober 🎉

[austennerdita2533]

17 Questions, 17 People

Tagged by the darling @leopard-skin-pillbox-hat-ok Thanks lovely! 💖

Nickname: Ash, AJ, Aya (my brothers couldn’t pronounce my full name growing up, so they made up their own name for me), Twin, Human Thesaurus (my friends think they’re funny ☠️)

•Sign: Aquarius ♒️

•Height: 5′6′’

•Last thing I googled: Time in Paris, France (my brother is in Europe rn and I needed to know the time diff so he could call me when I wasn’t working lmao)

•Song stuck in my head: Late Night Talking by Harry Styles

•Followers: 1806

•Amount of Sleep: 7-8 hours, I’ve been exhausted

•Lucky number: 33

•Dream Job: Corporate or Intellectual property attorney

•What I’m wearing: A red1977 Star Wars Rebels sweatshirt and black leggings. (A perk of working from home is I get to be in comfy clothes most of the time. :D)

•Movies/Books that summarise me: Pride and Prejudice, You’ve Got Mail, Anne of Green Gables, Gilmore Girls (not a movie but - hey, life is short so I best talk fast ;) )

•Favorite Song: Iris by the Goo Goo Dolls

•Favorite Instrument: Acoustic guitar, cello, and violin (I love string instruments)

•Aesthetic: Light academia with a touch of sunshine, multiple languages, and bright lipstick

•Favorite Book: Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen

•Random Fact: I’m the oldest of 3

Tagging:  @purplesigebert @romancemedia @galvanizedfriend @childoftimeandmagic Only if you want xx

[mimiatmidnight]

What are your favorite colors on Meghan? I think white, gold, and green are her best colors to go with her skin tone. My favorite outfit, oddly enough was her pregnancy gold and white dress with the pillbox hat. Those colors were gorgeous on her!

Hi, great question! It'd honestly be easier to list which colors I don't like on her, haha. She really can pull off almost anything. I especially love her in very rich, saturated colors. I also imagine I would love her in a range of pastels, but sadly she hasn't worn enough of those to confirm. Basically, scroll through my recent post on gala outfit predictions to see the kinds of colors I want to see her in. But if I had to narrow down my faves that we've actually seen on her, I'd say:

1) Vivid blues

2) Bright greens

3) Wine reds

4) Cool whites

(In particular I love that crisp, cold white of her wedding dress, which is typically very precarious on most people, but it just LIT her up in a way I still - to this day - somewhat can't believe. A more traditional cream color would have had no where near the same kind of electrifying effect. Perfect choice.)

For anyone curious on my dislikes:

1) Look, I have no personal beef with the color navy. Some of my all time faves of hers are in navy! It seems to be her comfort color, so all the power to her. But I am more than a little tired of it at this point and while I certainly don't think it looks bad on her, it doesn't necessarily add anything for her either.

2) The one color I can think of that I really don't like is that strange, sickly khaki green she seems to be fond of for some reason. When she wears it casually off duty, like she did at baby Archie's polo debut, then fine, whatever. But when she keeps bringing it out for formal events, like she did on their Oceania tour (more than once!) and their South Africa tour (also more than once!! Seriously why does she wear this color so much?) and to Louis's christening?? It's a HARD no from me, baby. Let's bring back the jewel tones.

[almacantarastories]

SPOTTED! Princess Sueloro of Lunestia was seen on Saturenorn with her mother, Grand Duchess Rylissama, at a coffee shop! 

Princess Sueloro was in head-to-toe purple, her signature color, in a Caliendo plate hat, a spotted silk scarf in the modish “Purple Paws” print, and a lavender tweed suit by the House of Maxis. Grand Duchess Rylissama was glamorous in green in a Cloudwalker pillbox hat and a gorgeous wool gabardine suit, also by the House of Maxis. 

Does this ice-planet lunch date signify a thaw in their relationship, or will things remain on ice between the disgraced duchess and the notoriously private princess?

[deirdreisme]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Vintage 60s Cherry & Webb Veiled Floral Pillbox Hat Union Made FLAWED Colorful.

[wildbeautifuldamned]

Vintage Ladies Pillbox Hat Powder Blue Velvet White Flowers Green Netting 40s M ebay Southern Picker Chic

[dankusner]

KNOCK IT OFF: Jackie's pink suit in Big D

Kennedy took image, organization seriously

First lady’s wardrobe list for fateful 1963 Texas visit reveals her preparation for appearances

Jacqueline Kennedy’s recently resurfaced packing list for the fateful autumn trip to Texas she took with her then-husband, President John F. Kennedy, contains plenty of interest for fashion historians. In the margins of the weekend’s itinerary, which she had written out for her personal assistant, the first lady scheduled the visit outfit by outfit. For the day of Nov. 21, 1963, her look would be head-to-toe Chanel: a white coat, skirt and blouse, with a black hat atop her head and a gold-and-navy bracelet on her wrist (“safety pin,” she wrote underneath, perhaps in reference to its clasp).

In the evening, she would don a black velvet dress with satin shoes and white kid gloves. And of course, the jewelry had been considered: pearls with a diamond bracelet and earrings.

Kennedy was not one to leave room for surprises. But even the best-laid plans can change.

The gloves, for one, surfaced on her descent from Air Force One in Houston, paired with the daytime Chanel suit. If she wore the bracelet, it went unseen. And the days that followed would stray much further from the first lady’s notes.

Her bloodstained pink Chanel suit tells more acutely than any other image the story of what happened in Dallas on Friday, Nov. 22.

But the notes she prepared for her personal assistant, Providencia Paredes, read as stage directions for a weekend of political theater and a catalog of the wardrobe that made her the most fashionable first lady of the 20th century, referenced by her successors to this day. Kennedy was best known, during her time in the White House, for the uniform of her public appearances: the tailored skirt suits, shift dresses, layered pearls, white gloves and pillbox hats photographed around the world.

But her leisure wear — the equestrian gear, swimsuits and cotton summer clothes immortalized in photos of family trips — also became a part of her visual imprint.

Many of those signature items were penciled into the itinerary for the Texas trip, including suits and dresses in summery shades of yellow, blue and green, and riding clothes for an appointment at Lyndon B. Johnson’s ranch on Nov. 23.

There are many mentions in her notes of Oleg Cassini, the designer who became Kennedy’s personal dressmaker in 1961: a green wool suit (“for Mex not used”), a white crepe coat, a short pink crepe dress, a long mauve one, an orange coat and dress (“silk — worn in Udaipur, India — on lake”).

Another favorite of the first lady, Gustave Tassell, appears on the packing list for a baby blue dress that Kennedy also wore in India.

Her detailed lists, many of which make reference to past manifestations of the dresses, are a view into the mind of a woman who took both image and organization very seriously. Stacey Bredhoff, the curator of the John F. Kennedy Presidential Library and Museum in Boston, described Kennedy as a “meticulous planner” who concerned herself with every detail of ceremonial events: the guest lists, the menus, the seating arrangements, the flowers and of course the clothes.

The museum’s collection contains 95 of her dresses, including the white Chanel suit she wore on Nov. 21 and the orange silk Cassini dress from the state visit to India.

“We don’t have everything that she wore as first lady,” said James Wagner, the Kennedy museum’s exhibit specialist, “but our understanding is that once she left the White House, as far as we can tell, things that she wore at public events or during official travels, she set those aside and didn’t wear them again after 1963 with the intent that she would deed them to the library for our collection and for potential display in our museum.”

Some of the first lady’s best-known garments reside in and around the federal capital.

The pink suit is being kept under climate-controlled wraps outside of Washington by the National Archives and Records Administration, barred from public view until 2103. Kennedy’s inauguration dress, by Ethel Frankau of Bergdorf Goodman under her direction, is kept at the Smithsonian National Museum of American History.

In 2003, Paredes and Mary B. Gallagher, the first lady’s personal secretary, consigned together a number of Kennedy items.

Those that sold included some of Kennedy’s squaretoe leather shoes, her nightgowns and sleep bonnets, and cotton summer dresses, which had not been kept in the best condition.

It’s one of the reasons so many of her archived items are seldom seen.

“One thing about the dresses is that they are very fragile, and the best thing you can do to take care of them is to keep them stored in a cool, dark place,” Bredhoff said. “So we’re very careful about how much time they can be out on display, exposed to the light and so on.” In their thoughtful, organized detail, though, the notes from the Texas trip might say more about the first lady than the clothes ever could. Bonnie Wertheim, The New York Times

Chez Ninon worked with Chanel in an agreement known as "Line for Line" it was Chanel's true pattern, Chanel fabric and trim- actually from Rue Cambon- so It was as Chanel as one could get without going to Paris- Balenciaga did something similar with his Eisa line sold in Spai

[elegancefascinator]