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Hit-Girl :The Ultimate Crimefighter,with a Japanese Twist 🎬🗡️💜
Step into the world of Kick-Ass and meet Hit Girl, the epitome of strength and style. Armed with her pleated skirt, purple wig, and deadly wakizashi katana and shuriken, she's not just a superhero - she's a force to be reckoned with.
With skills honed to perfection and a fearless attitude, she fights crime with unmatched determination and finesse. It's like watching a samurai warrior navigate the streets of a modern city. Let's salute Hit Girl for her unwavering commitment to justice and her undeniable coolness that knows no bounds!
Her Quotes:
"You don't have to be a badass to be a superhero Dave, you just gotta be brave."
"My Daddy made me promise, I'd never stop defending the city.. and that's exactly what I'm gonna do."
"Maybe that's the real meaning of being a superhero, taking that pain, and making something good out of it, something right."
#Kick Ass#Hit-Girl Kick-Ass#Crimefighter#Mindy McCready#Coolness Personified#Japanese Influence#Samurai Style#shuriken#Wakizashi#脇差#わきざし#katana#刀#日本刀#nunchakos#Chloë Grace Moretz#Mark Millar#John Romita Jr#butterfly knifes#mindystick Hit-Girl#Matthew Vaughn#Jane Goldman#Nunchaku#ヌンチャク#dual-section stick#pleated short skirt#purple wig#real superhero#tactical manuevers#masked superhero
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a problem ive noticed w RH while watching doll vids is like.. fucking hell, not everything needs 2 b a reference 2 a big designer. u do Not need 2 b putting a moody grunge girl in, like, versace n gucci shit n a bodycon dress. look @ designers OUTSIDE of like fucking big names w gaudy clothes if u want 2 get a read on tht shit. mayb even look outside of european n american designers esp if ur chara is inspired by a different culture.
#last part is aimed directly at lila from series 4. the chinese style top? rly? the lack of focus on dec0ra or shibuya street fashion when#they had the gall 2 put stickers on her face? her uglyass semi-transparent glitter skirt when they could hav easily hav went w a knife pleat#2 make it look like a hakama or smth? come the fuck on.#delete later
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Modern Steddie AU
“Oh she’s cute.” Robin points over to a table near the bar.
Steve follows her finger and the blonde in the pink pleated skirt is, in fact, very cute. “You should go talk to her.”
Robin gives him a look, “Literally everything about her screams ‘straight’ so no thanks,” she takes a sip of her cocktail, “Don’t feel like getting humiliated today.”
Steve rolls his eyes, “I doubt she’d humiliate you but suit yourself.” He stands and fluffs up his hair a little, “If you won’t, I sure as hell will.”
Before his friend can protest, Steve’s strutting over to the girl’s table. She looks up at him when he stops and leans slightly against the chair opposite from hers.
“Hi!” she greets before he can say anything. Her whole face lights up as she smiles. She’s definitely cute, but not exactly what Steve had in mind for the night.
“Hey,” Steve flashes his own smile, “I was just telling my friend how cute you are and wanted to know if I could maybe buy you a drink?”
Her face goes pink, but her smile falters slightly and a small frown forms. “Oh that’s so nice of you, but I’m actually a lesbian,” she seems genuinely upset at having to break this news to him. “I’m really sorry, you seem lovely.”
Steve’s eyes widen slightly, but his smile remains, “Oh, god, sorry I should have asked,” he laughs, “That’s totally my bad.”
She shakes her head and leans forward in her seat, “Not at all, sweetheart!” there’s a slight southern accent slipping through and her smile is back. “You couldn’t have known, I know I don’t exactly look the part.”
“Well, since I’m already here,” Steve smirks, glancing over his shoulder to where he can see Robin watching the scene unfold. Her eyes snap away once she realizes he’s looking at her. “My friend over there is single and also extremely gay.”
Chrissy looks over and her smile turns coy, “Now she’s cute,” her eyes snap back to Steve. “She’s the one who told you to come over?”
“The opposite, actually. She thought you were straight so, I came over instead.” Steve explains.
Chrissy nods, glances over her shoulder and then stands. “Well, I’ll just have to go over there then.”
Steve smiles, “I’m Steve, by the way.”
“Chrissy.” The blonde extends her hand and Steve shakes it. “Thank you for letting me know the girl I’ve been eyeing is queer.”
Steve gives her a two-finger salute and goes to walk away, but she grabs his wrist to stop him.
“Do you like men, by any chance?” Chrissy asks, her smile alluding to something.
“Is it that obvious?” Steve laughs.
She gives him a once-over, “The tight shirt sort of gave you away.”
“Fair enough. Why do you ask?”
Chrissy points over to a curly-haired guy covered in tattoos, who’s ordering at the bar, “You should go talk to my friend, Eddie, he’s been blabbing about the hot jock in the polo since you walked in.”
Steve swallows, he’d seen the guy when they walked in, but hadn’t allowed himself to look. He was the kind of hot and scary Steve usually avoided due to their usual disdain for preppy guys like Steve. But surely if he kept Chrissy around, he couldn’t be all bad.
“I don’t exactly seem like his type.” Steve points out, giving Chrissy a nervous glance.
She laughs, “Oh please, pretty boy with big eyes and a great body? You’re everyone’s type.”
“Not yours.”
“Trust me honey, if you were a masc lesbian I’d be all over you right about now.” Chrissy winks and Steve can feel his face heating up.
“I don’t want to bother him…”
Chrissy rolls her eyes, “Just use the same line you used on me, he doesn’t bite.” she pauses, “Unless you ask really nicely.”
Yeah she isn’t exactly easing his nerves with these little jabs.
“He looks like he carries a knife.” Steve’s just stalling at this point.
“I know he seems kinda mean and scary, but he’s really just a big ol’ softie, trust me,” she pats his shoulder, picks up her drink and starts walking towards Robin, “Now I’ve got a pretty lady to talk to, so get! Go make a move on the scary metalhead, Steve!”
Steve watches her go, his amusement growing at the sight of Robin’s panic when Chrissy plops down at their table.
Mustering up the courage to walk to the bar, he turns but immediately bumps into someone. The person manages to steady their drink and somehow prevent Steve from falling on his ass, grabbing him around the waist.
“Shit sorry!” Steve finds his footing, only to nearly lose it again when he looks up to find his face a few inches away from the aforementioned friend of Chrissy’s.
Eddie smiles, squeezes Steve’s waist once before releasing him, “Don’t sweat it, sweetheart.”
Steve’s face must have been bloodshot at that point. Two people had called him sweetheart within the span of a few minutes. At this rate his brain was going to malfunction entirely.
Eddie studies him for a second, his eyes twinkling, before looking over to the now unoccupied table. He frowns, looking around the bar.
“She’s over there.” Steve points to where the two girls are deep in conversation.
Eddie’s eyes look from Steve to Chrissy and back again. “Were you heading back there?”
“Uh, no, actually,” Steve clears his throat. Why was it so hot all of the sudden? “I was told to go talk to the scary metalhead?”
Eddie’s grin returned, showing off his dimples. Steve was allowing himself to stare at the man now, and god was he stunning.
“Scary? That’s rich coming from the girl who literally carries a knife with her.” Eddie sits down at the table and looks at Steve expectantly, “I don’t bite,” he gestures for him to sit, so he does.
“Apparently you do if I ask nicely,” Steve says, then feels his face heat up again when he hears what he said.
Eddie laughs, loud and beautiful, “God, she really knows how to play wingman, huh?”
#this is just a little experiment#had this idea at 3am#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#robin buckley#chrissy cunningham#buckingham#steddie au#modern steddie au
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❛you wanted this, right?...❜ ━━ ft. ghostface! gojo & geto
⁺ 𓂋 𓈒 SUMMARY. ━━ after disclosing a fantasy you had, your beloved boyfriends decided to make it happen. them in masks, you the victim, and you all inside a big mansion they rented out. an unfair game of cats and mouse seemed delightful, no?
⁺ 𓂋 𓈒 CONTENT WARNING. ━━ everything is consensual & discussed beforehand | fear play | predator & prey play(? maybe), | ghostface mask | voice manipulation (they sound like ghostface | manhandling | rough sex | praise & degradation | oral sex (f & m receiving) | ooc characters (i’m not gege don’t clock me) | pet names (princess, sweetheart, pretty girl, minx, slut, etc) | spanking | minor choking (not really just holding your throat) | double p in v sex | fingering | multiple orgasms | orgasm denial | minor knife play | etc. if i forgot something let me know.
⁺ 𓂋 𓈒 NOTE. ━━ this took much longer then i wanted & went on much longer then i wanted 😭🙏🏾. as always please excuse typos & grammar mistakes.
the anticipation swelling inside you was almost nauseating. your pretty manicured fingers digging into the little pleated skirt you wore. everything you wore was little; little white top, little denim skirt, and little pink thong. why? easy access.
you waited so impatiently for the car to stop, eyes peering between the seat and your phone, feeling your panties wetten as your thoughts swarmed with the events bound to transpire soon. to think your beloved boyfriends would actually make a disgusting fantasy of yours come true.
not without a little teasing of course.
“us, in ghostface masks?” gojo asked with a little grin, coming close to you. “you want us to chase and fuck you, huh?”
“and you’re letting us use knives, right?” geto asked next, a simper pulling his features. his eyes ran down your form, feeling excitement brew inside him.
it didn’t take much coaxing, given they were as freaky as you were. you three decided on a nice gothic mansion, four-story, furnished with several rooms. several hiding places.
whether for you or them.
next were the rules, establishing a perfect plan so everyone was comfortable. the knives used were only sharp enough for thin fabric, you had a word to say incase you got too scared, and also; you had an objective.
you would start at the top floor, your goal to get outside the house through the front. along the way however, your lovely boyfriends will be obstacles. but.. if you could guess correctly who was under the mask whilst they played with you, you were allowed to run and they had to stay put.
easy right? you think so. despite the fact one missup, and you lost. you had to be careful, calculated. sure of your decision before it exited your lips.
“miss, is this your stop?”
you quickly blinked out of your inappropriate thoughts, turning back and forth. you were sure this was the right place, an exact replica to what you saw online. with a sweet smile you thanked the uber driver, exiting the car and collecting your things; your phone and a flashlight. you didn’t need anything else.
shutting the door behind you, you headed up the grand walkway of the mansion; glancing at the pretty windows and rose shrubs standing tall outside. it was beautiful really, you wondered what it was used for before your perverted adventures.
grasping the door, which was unlocked, you entered the mansion and stepped into the dark foyer. you licked your lips nervously, shutting the door behind you. you quickly texted your lovers you were inside the house, knowing they were on the way.
satoru <3
we’re three mins away, sweetheart.
suguru <3
hurry up & find a hiding place, you don’t get a grace period.
you didn’t need to be told twice, flicking your flashlight on and rushing towards the stairs. you bounced with each step, ignoring the slight pain as you continued up them. you made it to the second floor when you heard the front door slam open and close, fear running through your body as you dashed across the hall to the next set of stairs, making it to the fourth floor.
your whipped around back and forth, searching for a perfect spot to wait out the next five mins. those were the intervals you were allowed to wait in one room, before you were expected to move. your eyes quickly settled on one second to the one at the end of the hall, rushing over and opening and closing the door.
you gripped your arms close, regaining your breath and sinking against the wall. you tried to calm down, tried to hear what was going on outside. had they made it to the fourth floor yet? maybe. but even so, you couldn’t hear a damned thing.
the ringing of your phone caused you to gasp, quickly pulling it from your chest to glance down at the bright unknown number, glaring at you. you hissed, accepting the call and placing it against your ear, whilst standing from your spot against the wall.
it was about three mins. you needed to find somewhere else to hide.
“what’s your favorite scary movie?”
you rolled your eyes, a little grin covering your face. “you’re so corny, baby.” you murmured, slowly opening the door and peeking out with your flashlight. luckily you didn’t see their large forms, allowing you to step out into the hall.
“you want the ghostface masks, you get the ghostface treatment, princess.”
“mhm. you’re only trying to get me to talk so you can find me.” you hummed, continuing down the hall to the next room, opening and shutting the door behind you.
the man released a soft cackle, his breath fanning against the receiver of the phone. “oh no, i’m not doing that. i already know where you are.”
you blinked a bit, whipping around in time to spot a large form burst out of the closet and head towards you. a delighted, yet fearful shriek escaped you as strong arms locked around your body. his gloved hand pressed against your mouth, bringing you against his form.
“too bad, we just started and i already caught you.” ghostface snickered against your ear, plastic mask rubbing against your hot skin. his hand dragged down, the warm fabric tracing your skin. “what should i do first? should i cut these useless clothes off? maybe i’ll wait for the other ghostface to get here.. end this game quickly—“
“satoru!” you shouted out, hearing the man click his tongue a bit. the strong arms released you, a triumphant giggle escaping you as you rushed out of the room without even looking back. you ran down the hall, ignoring the other rooms and heading down the stairs.
you didn’t know where geto was, and you didn’t care; you were making far too much noise for the man to ignore. you quickly entered a room, pulling the door open and shutting it behind you. your eyes peered around, regret entering you quickly.
it was a simple room, no closet, no bathroom— nothing. your only hiding spot.. was under the bed. so fucking cliche.
with some effort you got to your knees, sliding your self under the bed with even more effort. you pushed up, assuring your legs weren’t stick out like all those stupid movies and waited. you had five mins, only five and then you’d have to figure out where to go next.
getting yourself from under this bed was bound to take some time, so you planned to exit a little early.
that was until, you heard them. heavy footsteps, pressing against the floor from outside the room. you quickly slammed a hand against your mouth to cover the small whimper, shaking as you watched the door push open. the person entered, black boots coming into view as he shut the door behind him.
they stood motionless for a moment, your eyes closing as you tried to relax your racing heart. hopefully, hopefully they thought you were too smart to slide under the bed. that they would exit the room and maybe go to the next one.
your heart rung in your ears, palm squished against your mouth to cover your small pants. that was until, a strong hand curled around your bare ankle. you screeched as you were dragged out from under the bed, being flipped onto your back, right on the cold wood floor.
you whined a bit as you felt the cold steel glide across your thighs, rising to pull at your thin thong string. “under the bed? really?..” the man purred above you, raspy voice slightly muffled from the mask he wore. you whimpered as your panties were cut off, revealing your soft, wet cunt.
you attempted to shut your legs, only for ghostface to be much faster; blade rising to press against your neck. you knew it wasn’t sharp enough to cut, yet, the thought alone had you keening— arousal dripping down to your ass.
the man hummed a little, fingers tapping on the handle of the knife whilst his other hand traced your thigh, slapping the inside of it. a high pitched moan escaped you, eyes pinched closed as his gloved hand soothed the skin.
“such a minx, begging for us to fuck you in masks. bet all that running around and hiding got you so wet, huh—?” his own question was answered the moment his fingers glided across your slit, slick collected on his gloved hands. ghostface swore softly, two fingers pushing into your entrance with no restraint. he wasted no time in curling them, pushing against your velvety walls all while the knife remained against your throat.
your eyes found the back of your skull, nearly forgetting your goal. you were supposed to be guessing who this was, currently ruining you so easily with his fingers. thumb pressing against your hardened clit, circling it slowly. your sweet moans covered the room, thighs squeezing his strong forearm as little tears threatened to spill.
ghostface leaned closer, his pace quickening. “oh, gonna come already baby? you know what that means.. means we’ll win.” soft squelches covered the room, hissing at the way your gummy walls clenched around his digits. “come on, come on— guess pretty girl, guess—“
your mind raced as he coaxed you, struggling to keep your orgasm at bay. you knew if you got it wrong, you lost. if you came, you lost. you wanted, needed the game to go on just a while longer. a harsh whine escaped you, “suguru!” you finally huffed out, feeling his fingers instantly stop inside you.
“good girl.. though, i doubt you have much left in you to run.” he spoke, a clear smirk on his features despite you couldn’t see.
the man even helped you up, you rushing out the room the moment you were on your feet. suguru was slightly right, given how much you wobbled about; legs shaking as you carried yourself down the end of the hallway.
you didn’t want to get to the next floor yet, fearful gojo was waiting on you. it was so frustrating how well they worked together sometimes.
you opened the door, closing it behind you with a soft sigh. your head rested against the cool mahogany wood, heart racing as a little giggle escaped you. to think you were having so much fun being used as prey for your boyfriends. you were a sick freak, really.
you clicked your phone, glancing down at the time. four more minutes, and you’d have to move. though as excited as you were, you did find this little rest enjoyable. they weren’t going easy on you, keeping you on your toes at all times.
a soft breath escaped you as you rose from leaning against the door. clasping the knob, you turned it, opening slowly— revealing the man standing right behind it.
you screamed as he lunged forward, snatching you out of the room and closing the door. once done you were pressed right back against the wood, squeezed between it and his large form.
“you’re so easy to track, princess— gotta be a bit quieter..” ghostface teased, snaking a hand under your thin shirt to grasp your breasts. he tweaked your hard nipple between his thumb and middle finger, enjoying the pretty moans that escaped your throat. “look at that.. leaking all over this pretty mansion. such a mess.”
you cried out as his palm smacked against your bare ass, keening once his fingers plunged inside you. your legs shook, arched perfectly against the door as his hand move; flexing and scissoring his thick, long digits in and out of your messy cunt. a string of moans escaped your throat, his hand releasing your chest to glide up to your neck, holding it gently.
“fuck.. sucking my damn fingers, so much.” he mused, masked face focused on your pretty pussy. your walls clamped down, desperately trying to keep them inside with each thrust he delivered. ghostface could feel himself growing harder and harder under his slacks, having half a mind to end the game right then and there.
“messy fucking pussy.. go ahead and come, pretty girl. you want to don’t you?— so greedy for our dicks, bet you can’t wait for the game to end.”
you furiously shook your head, eyes pinched as you clenched and clenched; struggling to hold back your orgasm. with the way he was fingerfucking you, you were sure the restraint would dissipate quickly, racking your mind. satoru or suguru? satoru or suguru? satoru or suguru?
“fu—fuck, satoru!” you cried out just when your peak nearly hit, hearing the man swear but release you. you breathed heavily, feeling him step away to give you space.
“tired, baby?” satoru said in a mocking coo, watching in delight as you lifted your body off the door.
without think you flashed your boyfriend the finger, collecting the scraps of your dignity and rushing down the hall and down the steps. you didn’t know if you could last much longer— no there was no way you could.
you felt way too damn good to even distinguish between the two anymore, mind melting away as they fucked you to ecstasy with just their fingers. you hated them so much, for how easily they played with your body.
you made it to the second to last floor, tempted to just take the final stretch, but deciding not to. you turned towards a door, rushing to open it and close it behind you. a bathroom. perfect.
no where to hide but the damn tub.
with a little grimace you pulled the shower curtains back, happy to not see one of your cloaked and masked boyfriends waiting patiently for you. you stepped inside, pulling the curtains closed once you were done. you leaned back against the white tiles, sighing softly as you closed your eyes.
these little moments of peace was so bittersweet, knowing they were short lived. your lovers were much faster then you, you were sure they were on this floor already.. waiting and searching.
you glanced down at your phone, a little surprised either of them hadn’t tried to call you again. it nearly made you giggle if it wasn’t for the heavy footsteps you heard passing by the bathroom. you hissed softly, quickly covering your mouth and pressing against the wall.
your heart beat harshly, hearing doors open, footsteps, doors slam shut, and more footsteps. you didn’t know if it was only one of them on the floor or both, unfortunately.
as the footsteps closed in on outside your door, your heart rate increased; ringing in your ears and nearly whimpering the moment the door opened slowly.
whoever it was stepped into the small space, standing and looking around. the only thing between the two of you being the decorative shower curtains.
more agonizing moments passed before you heard a soft sigh, hearing a footstep towards the door and it opening and shutting shortly after. your hand slowly fell, feeling your lips curl into a little smile.
so silly, you thought to yourself, fingers curling around the curtain. they didn’t even check the tu—
“your hiding places suck, pretty girl.” ghostface chuckled, snatching you out of the tub right as you gave a fearful yelp. the man easily turned your positions, pushing you to lean against the sink, pressed up behind you. a hand came to curl in your pretty dark braids, grabbing a handful and lifting your head.
the moment your eyes landed on your face in the mirror you glanced away, whining as you felt his other fingers gently pinch your clit. “no, no.. no looking away. watch yourself as i fuck you with my fingers, sweetheart.” three fingers easily slid inside your sweet cunt, instantly clamping around the digits.
you reached back, hand gripping his wrist as he fingerfucked you, the other hand steady in your scalp. you watched as your lips parted, moans escaping and eyebrows pushing together; all while your masked boyfriend stood behind you, arm moving with each thrust he gave you.
it was such a sight, making you even wetter by the second, arousal dripping down your thighs. you whimpered as his fingers curled, legs shaking as heavy pants escaped you.
“oh, is this the last round?” the man behind the mask mocked, feeling your pretty walls clench and clench. “you had such big talk, claiming you would get out before we caught you.. was that all it was— talk?” he angled his fingers, pushing against the spot inside you that caused stars to collect in your vision.
“mmm— fuck, fuck!” you cried out, nails digging into his wrist as your head leaned against the mirror. “it— its ah— suguru!” you felt triumphant the moment his fingers were removed, gently letting go of your hair.
before you could think you were rushing out of the bathroom, chubby thighs carrying you down the stairs to the final floor. you gasped out, looking back and forth, and feeling your blood run cold the moment you spotted a large form standing at the entrance of the mansion, waiting ever so patiently.
you moved to run, making it about two feet away before your were snatched from the ground, arms tight around your waist. you huffed softly, kicking for a moment as a sharp, “satoru!” escaped you.
instead of being released, you heard soft chuckles. your eyebrows pinched close, attempting to move away. “don’t cheat, satoru!”
“oh, i’m not satoru, princess.”
your eyes went wide, whipping around to watch the man tug his mask off. and much to your dismay, suguru stood in all his glory, eyes gleaming with excitement as he took in your withering form. “looks like you lost..” his tone was sing-songy, tossing the mask to the side.
“but.. but i thought i w—“
“won?” another voice cut in, watching as the other ghostface; satoru walked down the steps, approaching the two of you. he was close within minutes, sandwiching you between himself and suguru. “no.. you guessed wrong in the bathroom. i just felt so bad about you losing, i let you slip away.” his gloved fingers found your cheeks, a sick simper covering his features.
your breath hitched as you felt strong hands grip your thinly covered body, suguru’s face falling to your neck. “means we get our reward, right?”
you whined in defeat as they snatched you away from the foyer, carrying you towards a room— a bedroom. placing you on the bed, suguru moved first, pushing you to lay out across the blankets. revealing his knife, the man slid it up your simple white shirt, cutting it open and revealing your bare chest.
the cold air licked against your skin, feeling the bed sink in as satoru crawled on; face lowering to your chest. his lips clamped around your hard nipple, sucking and gently biting it. your fingers found his brightly colored hair, the pleasure covering your sensitive body.
you gasped as the cool metal carried down from the valley between your breasts, to your stomach, and finally your skirt. geto, effortlessly, slid the sharp point under the fabric, cutting it off.
“suguru!” you huffed, watching him toss the ruined garment to the side, knife following. said man only grinned, hand finding the inside of your thigh.
“don’t worry.. i’ll buy another one for next time.”
you weren’t given much time to dwell on his words before his fingers glided across your slit, the man watching in enjoyment at you flincing from the simple touch. “practically drooling, pretty girl.. fuck.” he drawled, fingers collected your slick, rubbing it further across your slit.
you clenched onto your boyfriends, head rested back against the blankets as whimpers escaped you. “please, please..”
satoru popped off your nipple with a small chuckle, fingers replacing to tweak at the wet bud. “mhm.. you can wait, right baby? had us waiting for so long, playing your little game. it’s only fair.”
you whined once again, causing another chuckle to escape your lovers. whilst satoru grabbed your chin and captured your lips, suguru’s fingers pushed inside you, wasting no time in curling and fucking you. they no longer had to hold back to give you a chance to run, you were stranded, right where they wanted you.
your fingers clung to satoru, all while your hips moved, angling to glide your swollen clit against suguru’s palm. you cried at as he curled the digits up against your sweet spot, angling just perfect to continuously thrust there. given how much you were holding back this evening, it was no surprise your end was approaching quickly; eyes closed shut as gasps and moans entered satoru’s mouth.
he pulled away, fingers rising to your cheeks to grip, taking in your expression with a soft swear. “so fucking close aren’t you baby? making such a mess on suguru’s fingers— greedy slut.”
“hah— did you seriously clench from that, (y/n)?” suguru’s words came next, your mind flooded with pleasure and far too fucked out to acknowledge their teasing. your thighs shook, trapping the dark-haired man’s forearm between them as you fisted satoru’s hair.
a drawn out moan escaped you, creaming all over his hand, arousal dribbling all the way down to your taint and the sheets.
the praises that fell from their lips caused your head to feel light, barely registering suguru removing his fingers. you regained your breath, sitting up when you realized the two had stepped off the bed.
you watched in excitement as they fiddled with their slacks, pushing them off with their boxers soon following. your thighs twitched, little hole clenching around nothing as anticipation collected in your tummy.
suguru moved close, gently grabbing your cheeks and leading you onto your knees on the bed. satoru moved behind you, pushing you into a little arch, hands massaging your ass.
you whined as his thumb pushed into your mouth, laying on the flat of your tongue. suguru watched as your lips wrapped around the digit, sucking it slowly. he didn’t let it go on for long before he was pulling it out with a soft pop, smearing your saliva across your pretty lips. “think you could put that pretty mouth to good use, princess?” he grinned, moving close and pressing the tip of his cock against your lips.
you attempted to wrap your lips around it, only for the man to pull back, hand falling to your chin. “so fucking greedy..” suguru hissed, instructing you to poke out your tongue. you obeyed easily, whining the moment you felt satoru’s hands large hands grip your ass, nearly turning to look back if it wasn’t for suguru’s hold tightening.
“nuh uh— eyes on me, beautiful. you don’t get to see satoru right now.” he groaned, slapping his tip against your waiting muscle. the soft plaps echoed in the room, all while you felt satoru’s fluffy hair glide across the curve of your ass.
at the same time satoru’s lick tongue slid into your entrance and suguru thrusted into your mouth.
you moaned around his length, eyes rolling back as satoru wasted no time in feasting away. hands gripping you tightly, keeping you arched right there as his tongue dragging across your walls, lapping and enjoying each drop that came from you.
your attention kept being knocked back and forth; suguru dragging his hips back as his hand found your hair, slowly, carefully setting a pace inside your wet mouth. your cheeks hollowed, glossy eyes peering up at the man as he fucked your mouth. suguru groaned at the sight, swearing as his pace quickened, pulling you flush so your nose brushed his stomach.
within minutes his tip was hitting the back of your throat, heavy, full balls slapping against your chin. you could only shake and take it, gripping the sheets under you all while satoru’s tongue never stopped inside you.
licking you up, mixing your arousal and his saliva, only to pull back and spit it right back against your messy pussy in a soft ptuh. slurping it all up, dragging his tongue between your folds.
“wanted this so bad didn’t you, (y/n)? you wanted us to win, to fuck you just like this.” suguru huffed, stuttering between each thrust inside your throat.
you squealed as a large hand slammed against your ass, fingers massaging the raw skin. “he asked you a question, princess— or is your mouth too full to respond?” satoru cackled right into your pussy, hand slithering to your entrance to push two fingers inside, all while he licked your clit raw.
you moaned around suguru’s cock, the man’s eyes rolling back from the vibrations, twitching as his peak got closer and closer. your jaw hurt, center was sore, and your palms ached from how much you were gripping the sheets. but you didn’t care— not one bit.
suguru delivered a few more thrusts into your mouth before his hips stuttered, coming deep in your throat. you moaned around him, your own orgasm peaking— making a mess on satoru’s face.
the man infront of you panted softly, wrapping a hand around the base of his cock and slowly pulling out; pressing the tip against your lips. your licked off the rest of his come, swallowing to which a soft good girl, escaped him, leaning down to give you a gentle kiss.
your lips moved slowly, feeling satoru leave the bed and soon you; being lifted easily by the two of them. like before they sandwiched you between them, your legs wrapping around suguru whilst satoru held your thighs.
pulling back from the kiss you tried to regain your breath, the action short lived as satoru planted his lips onto your own; stealing it right back away. your gripped suguru’s shoulders tightly, whining as you felt satoru slowly pushing his heavy length inside.
the man pulled back to grunt, fingers sinking into your plush skin as he continued to thrust in. “look at that, sucking me in so easily.” satoru teased, the pair chuckling at the whine that escaped you.
he was halfway before suguru came even closer, grasping the back of your knees and slowly, pushing in— right in the same hole. your head knocked back against satoru’s shoulder, lips parted as a silent cry escaped you.
you felt like you were being split open, arousal gushing and coating their lengths as they pushed inside you. you whimpered, never growing used to this stretch no matter how wet you were. “fuck.. oh fuck, suguru, satoru—!”
“i know, baby, i know..”
“splitting so pretty for us, sweetheart— taking us so well.”
their praises made your head feel light, finally breathing the moment their hips stilled. as desperate as they were to move they waited, knowing you were tired and possibly sore. suguru rubbed your legs carefully whilst satoru kissed the side of your face, whispering sweet words into your ear.
moments passed before your breathing settled, the men taking this as a signal to pull their hips back until only their tips were inside. with a harsh thrust, the three of you were moaning— the two men wasting no time in setting out a pace.
one that worked in rhythm, cocks driving in you and out of you at perfect tandem without a care for your well-being. your high pitched moans covered the room, gripping to your boyfriends tight as your legs shook.
“fuck, fuck, fuck!” you cried out, tears trickling down your brown cheeks, feeling yourself gush all over their lengths. unfortunately they didn’t let up, fucking you through your orgasm— ignoring your desperate pleas to slow down.
suguru leaned close, lips attaching to your neck as his fingers dug into your skin. “you really think we’re gonna slow down after waiting for so long, princess?” he questioned with a simper, teeth sinking into your skin just to hear you cry out.
satoru grinned, hand rising to gently wrap around your throat, the vibrations of your voice pressed against his fingers. his cheek brushed your own wet one, softly mocking your moans as his hips never stopped their harsh thrusts. “you don’t want us to slow down any, do you? such a fucking mess..”
you reached up, clinging to his wrist as each drive in and out of your messy cunt rendered your brain to mush; ruining you. your words became incoherent, fingers curling with your thighs wrapped tight around suguru. the pair enjoyed it all, each twitch, cry, moan— the way those pretty fucking eyes rolled to the back of your skull; it was no surprise their own orgasms were creeping up on them, fast.
“feel so fucking good, sweetheart.. so fucking good, keep making a mess of us.”
“gonna come again aren’t you? yeah, we can tell— clenching so damn tight— fuck..”
throat raw, breath ragged, and your voice pitched; you shrieked as your orgasm hit you like a truck, spraying all over their cocks.
their eyes widened at this, gaze locking and making a mental note to somehow get you to squirt again. for now their thrusts stuttered, becoming sloppy and desperate as their cocks twitched inside.
suguru was first, shoving himself deep and pumping you full of his come— satoru following shortly after with a deep groan.
the three of you simply panted, standing in the middle of the room for a moment before leading you towards the bed; where you laid down in a messy heap.
you whimpered as they pulled out of you, feeling their combined releases trickling from your entrance and to the bed. you warmed however the moment their hands caressed your body, kissing where they previously gripped, spanked, or bit.
“i should have asked for this a long time ago.” you murmured sleepily, hearing your lovers chuckle softly.
reblogs & comments are appreciated <3
#mani writes ━━ ★#mechahrt#black!reader#jjk smut#jjk x black reader#jjk x fem!reader#mdni#gojo x black!reader#gojo satoru x black reader#gojo x black reader#gojo satoru smut#jujutsu gojo#gojo smut#jjk gojo#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x you#geto x black reader#geto suguru smut#geto smut#geto suguru#geto x reader#jjk geto#jujutsu geto#getou suguru x reader#geto x you
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Dress, c. 1820, England
Silk, tulle, silk satin
Blue striped silk ball dress with boat neckline, short wide gathered sleeves trimmed with ivory pleated tulle ribbon. Gown with blue silk satin waistband (with embroidered ivory spikelets) with a brass buckle (covered with floral enamel), maxi length skirt (knife pleated on the top at the front and tightly gathered in back).
Alexandre Vassiliev Foundation
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Mr. Targaryen Will See You Now
Modern!Aemond x Reader (three parts)
warnings (for the future chapters): sex, oral sex, loss of virginity, squirting, stalking, obsession, manipulation, reader being clueless, but not totally innocent, blackmail, p in v sex, blood kink, knife kink, gun kink, handcuff kink, bdsm, masturbation, fingering
a/n: I’ve been doing okay, but things have been complicated. There are times I wish someone would love and protect me like in the romance book—longing for a romantic life and longing for connection and consistency. I’m still clinging on. Oh, and I started to drive, I’ve gotten better at driving, but still need to learn. And my family has been cruel to me that even made me believe that no one will love me. But art is my passion, one thing that keeps me alive until now. And thank you guys, for supporting me. I love you guys very much.
The morning hair wasn’t cooperating; you took a nice long, hot shower the night before the interview—which you knew nothing about, and planned on spending time to read books and drink merlot and binge on snacks, or watching korean soap operas, being a usual daydreamer you are— and you were getting ready for the interview, groggy, and sobbing on the inside.
The iron curl is broken. And nothing to repair except for your roommate’s curler, tried to make the curls tighter, hence why you brushed your hair back for a softer effect.
Long story short, your friend has called in sick, and asked you to fill in the details for her. Nevertheless, a shy and innocent girl such as yourself. Under a bad weather, you have to fill in, that’s what a good friend does.
Any shenanigans and canceled during the day of interview meant blacklist.
The appointment must be that important.
Clad in knit white jacket with black lines, white top and silky pleated skirt, with your sideswept longish strands tucked in, you were sure you’re going to vomit. Vomit from misery, vomit from stomach pain, or vomit from an awful weather, you made sure your clean, it-girl makeup is on plastered to your sleepy expression, hoping no one would take you as a joke. Presenting as possible also means the downside of being insecure or inferior is low. But with amount of makeup you set up, you made sure you’re neither too plain nor extravagant.
Everything has to be balanced accordingly. But appearance willing to stand out, if the destiny allows it to be.
“You got that tape recorder, right?”
“Yeah.”
“And the interview sheet?”
“Got it right here in my purse.”
“How about the gift for him?”
Your brows knitted. “I have it all set. I don’t think he’s going to accept this. There’s no way in hell.”
“Not if it comes from gorgeous lady like you. You look prim and proper today! Ready to go at the Met Gala, Miss Victoria’s Secret Model?”
“Ha, as if! Besides, I can’t go in looking like a wet rag. They’ll kick me out.” Sprayed a fee spritz of the sweet, vanilla, cotton-candy smelling perfume on your neck and neckline over your interview getup.
“Funny.” Your friend howled a wet, sloppy and stuffy sneeze. “Don’t mind me, just get your round ass going before someone decides to come behind you and give it a good smack, and it’s not going to be me.”
She spilled a good part of the soup as your friend accidentally swallowed and slurped the noodle and coughed. Oops.
“Careful, that’s a $50 white carpet I just got,” you said with a tiny smile.
“I’m being careful,” your friend said, inspecting the bowl if the spicy soup spilled. And there’s none.
“Alright, alright. I’ll go ahead. Stay still.”
“And you stay naughty with your ass poking out,” your friend shouted behind you as you walked off.
You must achieve perfectionism at all costs. That’s what beauty is for.
~~~
As you entered the high floor of the building, the receptionists, looking flawless and elegant, greeted you, as if you’re another member of the company. Beautiful women with beautiful problems with beautiful men, you’d assume.
“Miss Stark?”
“Yes?” you replied, the receptionist insisted to take your coat off, but you politely refused with a sweet grin, but you gave your umbrella instead. Nonetheless, the secretary lead you to the high double doors—grey and glossy.
Immaculate.
“Mr. Targaryen will see you now.”
And opened the door. By your mistake, you didn’t realize one of your items dropped, causing you to lunge forward and knees bruised, following by your personal items and paper for the interview flopped on the ground.
Your ankle received a sharp pain, pressuring.
By the glass window, a long-haired man in a steel grey suit pivoted his head around from the noise and approached. “Are you alright, miss?”
His voice tuned in your ears. You have never heard a voice with profound deepness and…seduction.
A realization pang when you found yourself agitating like a shy teenage girl in high school, a shy, awkward girl talking to a handsome guy. You bet he’s the type of guy who’s popular, but doesn’t give a fuck what anyone thinks of him, or that he doesn’t occur to him as a benefit of being popular.
You’ve never seen him on papers and articles on the internet. No picture has come to a close when you glimpsed at him in person. Too long, in fact. You thought it would be an old man wanting more attention from the source of dangerous media.
He’s that gorgeous.
Immaculate. Neat.
And strictly punctual.
Is he taking his father’s place for the interview?
“I’m doing okay, sir. I apologize for the inconvenience,” you replied with modesty, nearly breaking the sweat on your brow.
Instead, he huffed, returning back to his desk and leaned himself over the table, awaiting. Watching. A faint scar outlined from the thin brow to cheekbone.
You’d assume he’s associated with dangerous people underground. Though you never knew him personally. Only an assumption.
“Sit,” he commanded, ever so still.
Gulping your parched throat, after drinking water and caffeine—you purchased on your way—in the car, heading for the massive building, you wondered drinking coffee has an effect on the stability in the nervous system. Sat on one of the empty green chairs, you had your utensil pen you bought online from a Japanese website and an aesthetic mini notebook, readying the questions. Flipping over the rippled pages, you studied over the questions, and as it turns out your friend has more of an aspect on the side of…inappropriate philosophy.
Nearly face palming yourself, you wanted to strangle your friend for setting you up for failure.
What the hell are you thinking, dude?
“Are you just going to sit there and act like a mousy librarian or are you going to interview me for the benefit of my time and success?”
Shoulder blades flinched at the sound of his tone. “Pardon me, sir,” you stated, nearly shitting your skirt and thong on his green velvet chair. And cleared your throat. “My first question is…” Your friend’s questions doesn’t give that much benefit for his time and success, so you tweaked your friend’s intentions to more of a productive approach. “How do you stabilize the company despite on the near downfall from the predecessor’s influential endeavors?”
Aemond’s violet eye gleamed. “You did your research on my father.”
In silence, your head inclined as acknowledgment.
“My father’s attempts on reclaim to the company was rather a long difficult process. His real endeavor was to lure people for…unsavory tasks and planned on passing his inheritance to his oldest daughter, my half-sister, Rhaenyra.”
Something in his statement was trying to say he wishes to air the dirty laundry. But you knew that he’s not an idiot.
“And how do you approach it compared to his “past” attempts?”
“Business travels had more suitable to catering and stabilizing the company in years, by speaking to several CEOs and their predecessors who are much more responsible to financial and stocks, how they be able to keep the staff members and their company intact in excellent condition and how business traveling has more benefits on success than staying in one place in one country. Their predecessors are much more controlling than how much stocks they hold—eventually they lost their staff and shares due to certain disadvantages. I learned both sides of the same coin, and I learned to take advantage of both.”
“By being fair and firm,” you assumed, pen scribbling. “You want to be superior and be well-respected, but you also try to be fair in all sides to keep a steady balance, hence why you travel to different countries to learn about different cultures and their ways of work culture, how they handle their staff and clients. And you looked at the bad effects to make sure no mistake is taken place.”
“Precisely.” Aemond smirked as you wrote along his statement.
Scribbling further down on the page until you flipped to a next one, you tweaked another question that your friend’s opposing curiosity has.
“With comes along the inheritance, and with the hefty influence of social media, how do you manage to steady the balance as well? With your father’s…whereabouts and the company, and with today’s social influence and societal aspects on differences, how else do you keep manage from falling?”
Aemond clicked his tongue. “It was a difficult process, and like any ordinary day, we strive for sanity to survive. Not everyone handles scandals correctly. While those who handle with promiscuity, I handled myself, the staff and the company with grace.”
“I assumed that some of the members who are in connections with you, have no ability to face the outcome with grace like you?” you said without thinking.
Aemond frowned at that. “Not everyone.”
“My apologies, sir.” You flipped the blank page over. “And with that said, how do you envision your company in the next 30 years?”
“The questions you asked are vitally intimidating. Are you trying to challenge me in a way?”
“For your benefit of time and success, yes.”
Aemond’s lips curled into a soft grin. “Clever girl.”
Gulped again, you found your legs coiled to a tighter position. Hand nearly shook and released the pen, but caught on it.
Focus, (Y/N). No time to be naughty.
Stop being naughty. Don’t leave yourself along with naughty thoughts. You don’t want to jump on him.
Aemond sat down near you to another set of green velvet chair.
“Continue,” he said, almost sounded like a purr.
“I, uh,” you looked over your friend’s silly questions and alternate it with another. Meanwhile Aemond amused himself with your fluster. “With you as a CEO of the Targaryen Company, where do you find yourself in the next 20 years? Are you planning to be the CEO, or are you planning to inherit the company and stocks to someone new, someone who’s not related to you, even?”
Aemond’s head tilted to the side, his white-blond hair spilled over his right shoulder.
“I would like to know more about yourself, Miss Stark. For a woman who belongs to a prestigious family, your wit and tongue are sharp. Are you always this curious?”
“You’ve met them?”
His brow flicked up. “I met your father during the meeting sometime last week. He has a well-deserved reputation.”
Your hands clutched tighter.
Aemond squinted his hues. “There’s more than meets the eye. What is your name?”
Correcting your postured, you answered in delicate voice. “My name is (Y/N), sir. (Y/N) (L/N).”
Aemond hummed. “(Y/N). I never thought you took your friend’s place to interview me.”
“She’s sick.”
“Figures.”
Your brows scrunched. “How do you know?”
“I can see the way you’re fidgeting to your pen.”
“How do you know her?”
“I know she’s not the brightest girl, nor a brightest student. I overheard her spoke once over a party on how she wanted to have a wonderful marriage with a wealthy man to make her ex-boyfriend jealous.”
“Okay, I don’t need to know that sort of detail, but—”
Aemond took the folded paper from your hand. “Are you single? Are you interested in marriage besides marrying to your own company? Does your family know that I’m single?” He looked at you in disbelief and said, “I’m surprised you have thought of particular questions you asked on the spot despite the opposing questions your friend makes.”
“It’s a job interview. It’s meant to be taken seriously.”
“And you did well, Miss (Y/N). Therefore, I wished to know more about you.” His back leaned in on a large chair frame, as he tossed the folded paper on a small coffee table. “What are you studying right now?”
“I major in history and art.”
“What are your favorite things to do on your spare time?”
“I like to go to the gym. Go to Starbucks and drink coffee. Sometimes I make coffee at home, and then…I sometimes read and watch a lot of shows…”
“What kind of shows?”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“So it’s romance?”
“Yes, but a different kind of romance…” you stated, awkward.
Aemond titled his head again.
You shifted in your seat.
“It’s a…um….”
He chuckled. “I never meant to put you on a spot, Miss (L/N), I apologize. So what are your plans regarding to work?”
“I’m studying at the moment for my finals.”
Aemond uncrossed his legs, his back leaned forward, gazing to your eyes. “I would like for you to be as my secretary.”
Your lips parted.
“There’s an internship that I’m offering at the current moment. More benefits for my staff and PTO.”
You leaned back and thought of the offer, but Aemond stopped you.
“What sort of books are you into, Miss (Y/N)? If I were to guess, Jane Austen, Charlotte Bronte or Tom Hardy, which author do you prefer?”
“I prefer Leo Tolstoy and Fyodor Dostoevsky.”
Aemond folded his hands together. “Sad and poetic?”
“It’s the closest thing to reality. I don’t mind Jane Austen and Charlotte Bronte or Tom Hardy. Although Tom Hardy’s stories are also considered as tragic. But..reading modern romance novels isn’t so bad. But I found myself more addictive to coffee, fashionable clothes and beauty products more now.”
You found yourself smiling at that. The sharp gasp filled in your throat when Aemond’s hand reached you, and tugged the band wrapped around your hair, loosening it, and combed the silk, lustrous strands through his fingertips, staring at you.
“Perfect,” he whispered.
You nearly pinched yourself before the secretary entered. “There’s a meeting in the conference room. Another company has requested for your presence.”
Aemond retrieved his hand on time. “I’ll be there soon.”
The door closed as you said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.” And a heavy thud clashed onto the ground. It was a gift. For him.
“For you,” you said, handing the gift over.
“What is it?”
“Chocolate.”
Aemond chuckled shortly. “I don’t eat sweets, Miss (L/N).”
As you got up from the seat, Aemond’s hand grasp for your wrist, making your head turn to meet his beautiful eyes. “Think about my offer,” he said, along that, he handed you his card by tucking the card in on one of your back pocket of your skirt, lingering on feeling your round ass than how someone touched you.
With that, you bowed and left his spacious offer, leaving him with wonder and amazement.
He ripped out the ribbon and wrap, revealing it to be compliments for him. Chocolates—as you claimed—and framed translucent glass with a green ink dragon inside.
He ripped one of the pieces from the chocolate box and ate one. Sweet, like yours. He wondered what you would feel and taste like.
Aemond found himself a new toy to play with. Another bite of the caramelized chocolate, with finding himself in an entrance with you, he has his sights on you. And thus dialing the phone number on his smartphone.
“Sir?” a voice said on the other side of the phone call.
“Hello. I have a task for you. You won’t fail me.”
One taste of you, and he won’t ever plan on letting you go.
~~~
Heavy door slammed shut and met up with your friend again.
“Sooo…how’s your meeting with him? What’s he like?”
“He’s…nice?”
“Nice? Saying the word ‘nice’ is automatically a code for friend zone.”
“No, I mean, he, he’s intimidating, and yet he’s able to answer my questions.”
“You mean my questions?”
You handed over your notebook to your friend on your original questions. “Wow, even I can’t ask a question like that.”
“Aemond found out that I stepped in for the interview instead of you.”
“How can you tell?”
“He met your father last week. And he already knows what you look like.”
“I never even knew him personally.”
“And he overheard you on how you wanted to marry a rich to make your ex jealous. That’s not something to easily slip by. Aemond has sharp ears and tongue.”
“Ugh, he caught me.”
“And yet those questions you wanted to ask him is simply more than an interview because why?”
“Because no one knows about him personally.”
“Yeah, but on a matter of a serious spectrum, not a flirtation. Do you even find him attractive, or do you want to set up with his siblings?”
“Ew, no, I don’t find Aemond handsome, but his other brothers do. Or his uncle.” Your friend looked over your interview questions. “Looks like he’s impressed by you.”
“He is.”
“So is he asking you out on a date?”
“No he asked me to be as his secretary.”
Your friend gasped. “No!”
“Yes, he is. He mentioned about the internship, and..”
“Are you going to take it?”
“I haven’t thought about it that much. I’m still studying for the finals.”
Your friend made a casual dismissive wave. “You’ll do great in the company and you get to see his gorgeous face everyday.”
“I thought you said he’s not your type.”
“He’s not. I like his uncle more. Older guys are my thing.”
“Right. Because older men knows how to take care because of their experience.”
“Exactly! I think you and Aemond are going to get along so well! Who knows you’ll get benefits. Even from him.” She winked and took the rest of the coffee.
“Hey!”
“Thanks for the coffee!” And the bedroom door slammed shut, leaving you happy about today’s outcome.
Clapped your hands together, you said aloud to yourself, “Alright! Time for me to take a shower, get dressed and watch some drama on Netflix.” And cheered your way into the bathroom. “By the way,” you called your friend out, shouting, “I didn’t get to tape-record him!”
“WHHHAAAAAATTTTT?!” is what your frantic friend responded.
~~~
Unbeknownst to you, while you’re undressed and soaked in the shower, Aemond’s pants unzipped, his hand caressed his large cock, pressed it harder as you scrubbed your legs and backside.
Delicious.
The bulge in his pants was ready to spring during the interview with you.
Thanks to the card he handed over by tucking it into your back pocket, he felt how good your ass looks. How your ponytail given him an impression that you’re a good girl on the outside but a bad girl was somewhere hiding, dying to get out.
Stroking his hard cock faster, moaning aloud—strained—as he watched you rinsed the soap from your body and stepped out of the shower with your tits bounced, remembering the perfume scent as Aemond went close to you. How he’ll perform his fantasies with you. Envisioned you, right next to a knife, he’ll play with blood trickling down on your skin alongside of bruises on your wrists on handcuffs.
It was beautiful.
Divine.
Cum spritz out, flying and plopping over his thighs, leaving him with a heavy huff and lustful gaze glueing to your naked body, drying up from a steamed shower.
She’ll be mine.
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#fanfiction#fanfic#x reader#reader insert#house of the dragon#hotd#aemond targaryen#smut#ewan mitchell#ao3#writers of tumblr#write#writeblr#writing#house of the dragon x reader#hotd x reader#reader#archive of our own#tumblr#fyp#fypシ#writerscommunity#viral#fics#aemond fanfiction#aemond x reader#aemond#aemond targaryen x reader#multifandom#game of thrones
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Out of all the human Suitcase designs I’ve seen the most popular one is putting her in a pleated skirt and I must inform everybody who does this that the specific pleating is called a
“Knife pleated skirt”
Do with this information as you will
#🐚🍂 primrose RANTS#inanimate insanity#ii suitcase#ii knife#knifecase#(optional)#ok to tag as ship#platonic or romantic#or neither let them be enemies it’ll be funny lol
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1922-25 c. Two-piece day dress of velvet and silk. The calf-length skirt is knife-pleated all around into an attached shell under bodice. From the Wadsworth Atheneum Museum.
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La Mode nationale, no. 39, 26 septembre 1896, Paris. No. 18. — Groupe de toilettes nouvelles. Bibliothèque nationale de France
(1) Jaquette de drap vert saule, ajustée, à basques avec pochettes; revers habit; gilet blanc croisé sur une chemise d'homme. Col rabattu, cravate de ruban quadrillé vert et paille. Manches ballon. Chapeau canotier avec pouf de ruban et deux grandes plumes couteau en aigrette sur le côté.
(1) Fitted willow green cloth jacket with peplum and pockets; coat lapels; white double-breasted waistcoat over a man's shirt. Turn-down collar, green and straw checkered ribbon tie. Balloon sleeves. Boater hat with ribbon pouf and two large knife-edge feathers in an aigrette on the side.
—
(2) Corsage de mohair bleu et noir. Corsage montant coupé par des petits velours noirs posés en pointe. Col montant.
Ceinture composée de trois petits velours. Manches gigot.
(2) Blue and black mohair bodice. High bodice cut with small black velvets placed in a point. High collar.
Belt composed of three small velvets. Leg of mutton sleeves.
—
(3) Toilette en lainage tilleul, à pois verts. Corsage plastron à dents de roses, boutonné sur les côtés.
Col montant. Manches gigot. Jupe forme princesse boutonnée sur le côté en haut. Chapeau canotier, orné par un gros nœud de ruban rayé tilleul et noir avec deux ailes posées en aigrette.
(3) Linden woolen dress, with green polka dots. Rose-toothed plastron bodice, buttoned on the sides.
High collar. Leg of mutton sleeves. Princess-shaped skirt buttoned on the side at the top. Boater hat, decorated with a large bow of linden and black striped ribbon with two wings set in an aigrette.
Métrage: 10 mètres lainage grande largeur.
—
(4) Corsage à basques, en satin violet, ouvert sur une chemisette de tulle, recouverte par un rabat coquillé en dentelle blanche. Col montant avec nœud de dentelle derrière; haute ceinture drapée. Manches ballon.
(4) Basque bodice, in purple satin, open over a tulle chemisette, covered by a shell flap in white lace. High collar with lace bow behind; high draped belt. Balloon sleeves.
—
(5) Toilette de lainage bois de rose. Corsage-boléro à grand col rabattu et brodé, ouvert sur une chemisette de surah or.
Col drapé montant, d'où s'échappe un volant de dentelle. Manches ballon, à poignets plissés au-dessus du coude; haute ceinture de velours drapée et à pointe. Jupe plate, plissée derrière.
Chapeau rond, en paille, orné de ruban or, posé devant en oreilles d'ours, avec touffe de plumes d'autruche droites derrière.
(5) Rosewood woolen toilet. Bolero bodice with large folded-down and embroidered collar, open over a gold surah blouse.
High draped collar, from which a lace flounce escapes. Balloon sleeves, with pleated cuffs above the elbow; high draped velvet belt with a point. Flat skirt, pleated behind.
Round straw hat, decorated with gold ribbon, placed in front like bear ears, with a tuft of straight ostrich feathers behind.
Métrage: 10 mètres lainage grande largeur.
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(6) Corsage-blouse, en mousseline de soie rose montant et tout froncé sous ceinture-corselet en velours ouvrage; bande transversale semblable au milieu du corsage; col Mercure. Manches gigot, en étoffe quadrillée.
(6) Blouse-bodice, in high pink silk muslin and all gathered under a velvet bodice-belt; similar transverse band in the middle of the bodice; Mercury collar. Leg-of-mutton sleeves, in checked fabric.
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(7) Corsage drapé et croisé à la taille, en lainage pervenche, pointillé rouge; petit plastron semblable, brodé de petit velours rouge; col Mercure; haute ceinture de velours drapée, retenue par une boucle vieil argent. Manches gigot.
Chapeau canotier, orné de grandes coques de mousseline de soie d'où émergent deux oiseaux de paradis, posés en aigrette.
(7) Draped bodice crossed at the waist, in periwinkle wool, red dotted; similar small plastron, embroidered with small red velvet; Mercury collar; high draped velvet belt, held by an old silver buckle. Leg of mutton sleeves.
Boater hat, decorated with large silk muslin shells from which emerge two birds of paradise, posed in an aigrette.
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(8) Corsage de surah paille froncé mis sous ceinture-corselet, en lainage paille et noir, terminée par un nœud de ruban, avec bas de ceinture en velours; col montant et pointe de guipure sur le corsage.
(8) Ruched straw surah bodice placed under a corset belt, in straw and black wool, finished with a ribbon bow, with velvet belt bottom; high collar and guipure point on the bodice.
Manches ballon, avec volants de dentelle.
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(9) Toilette de soie brochée sur chaîne noir et or. Corsage-plastron retenu par une ceinture de ruban; col montant, avec volant de dentelle blanche.
Manches gigot. Jupe redingote, ouverte devant sur une jupe de soie unie or.
Chapeau petit Louis XVI, garni par une draperie plissée de mousseline de soie or, avec fleurs en cache-peigne et grandes plumes d'autruche, posées droites derrière.
(9) Brocaded silk toilet on black and gold chain. Bodice-plastron held by a ribbon belt; high collar, with white lace flounce.
Leg-of-mutton sleeves. Redingote skirt, open in front over a plain gold silk skirt.
Small Louis XVI hat, trimmed with pleated drapery of gold silk muslin, with comb-cover flowers and large ostrich feathers, placed straight behind.
Métrage: 13 mètres soie brochée, 3 mètres soie unie.
#La Mode nationale#19th century#1890s#1896#on this day#September 26#periodical#fashion#fashion plate#description#bibliothèque nationale de france#dress#gigot#corsage#collar
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How would your rendition of the Namimori High School uniform look like? Colors, ties/bows etc.
How would it differ from the Namimori Middle school uniform?
I absolutely love questions like this! I’ve actually thought about it quite a bit. We never get to see a Nami High student other than that one anime-only karate club guy, who wasn’t even wearing a uniform. I didn’t want to go for something too flashy, but I did want to give them an air of sophistication and a bit of maturity with the colors. I outlined the key differences in the artwork, but here are some additional notes:
The Nami Middle girls’ uniform had a box pleated skirt. This uniform uses a knife pleat, much like Haru’s Midori Middle outfit.
Sports teams would follow suit with the colors; Yamamoto’s baseball uniform would ideally have maroon red lettering.
Their ubawaki (indoor shoes) are just plain white/cream, with a brown sole. Outdoor loafers are black to match their ties.
The winter jacket is a darker, more saturated maroon that can be paired with the red or grey sweater vest for a layering effect.
Fall/spring uniforms also have the typical top variations (thin knit sweater, button-up cardigan, etc.)
#khr#katekyo hitman reborn#namimori#sawada tsunayoshi#namimori high au#it’s less of an AU and more of a canon extension#but still an AU ^v^
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• an unhealthy obsession • Nate Jacobs •
two. the slate cleaned
Summary: In which Ophelia spends the first day of school realising that she is both far more noticeable, and completely unrecognisable to friends and peers alike.
Warnings: obsessive behaviours & stalking.
A/N: 2422 words. this continues to be self indulgent and possibly messy, also just as a warning, but Ophelia is not necessarily a good person, the warnings for this chapter are about her. please let me know what you think!! :)
{ masterpost }
THE TAGLIST IS ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)
----
So it continues with the pleated skirts and knee high socks and arms full of books and an air of sweetness.
They share several classes this semester - have for years, actually - but if anyone were to ask Nate, he would claim he'd never seen her before that semester started. Ophelia sits at the front of class now, tight sweater and hair in half-up pigtails, but quiet. The aesthetic change had little effect on her academics; she was a good student when she didn't care how she looked, she's still a good student now that she does. Except now she keeps her books in her arms, and backpack that was only really useful as an accessory, rather than in the large thing that had always clung to her before, which had always favoured function over form. The only real change would be her willingness to participate in class, eager to steal the class's attention and get them to notice her, notice the change.
Now, she smiles shyly when others talked to her, and her laugh is one she pretends she hasn't been practicing over summer; pretty, musical, dainty.
Befriending Jules, and by extension Rue, wasn't at all part of the plan, but it was a pleasant side effect. It had been a long time since she'd had a proper friend offline. Now she had two.
Jules is in her first class of the year; art. Initially she doesn't quite recognise Ophelia - something about the hair and the makeup and the shirt at the party seemed so different, she'd said - but lights up once Ophelia jogs her memory. When she asks about the bandage on Jules' arm, the blonde rolls her eyes, tells her about how some drunk asshole threatened her while Ophelia was in the bathroom, so she'd grabbed a knife and threatened him right back before making a spectacle of herself and practically fleeing.
"Rue patched me up, though," she giggled with a faint flush; Ophelia knows what the early stages of a crush looks like, and there's something endearing seeing it on Jules' face now.
Ophelia knows about Rue in kind of a nebulous way, which is the same way Ophelia knows about most people in her year. Bookish and desperate to keep her name out of people's mouths when she'd finally gotten to public school in junior high, and for the past two years of high school, she kept mostly to herself, and satisfied her need for a social life online. Even as she grew restless with that, started attending parties, started taking note of the people around her, she put the effort in to making sure they barely noticed her. These people she'd been in close proximity to were still arguably strangers to her.
But that was changing, and she was glad for it.
At lunch, Jules invites Ophelia along to join her and Rue. A proper meeting with someone she'd run into around school for several years, and sat silently beside at a handful of parties; all of which Rue was too high at to ever event notice her presence at all, which worked just fine for Ophelia at the time.
As if proving this point, Rue asks who she is when Jules waves her over, which only confuses the blonde.
"Lia, I told you I invited her to sit with us."
Rue squints up at Ophelia, who happens to know exactly how Rue looks across her various stages of being high, and knows she's seeing it again now.
"Are you new too?" Is the first thing she asks Ophelia, who's sliding onto the bench on Jules' other side. Ophelia shakes her head, Rue hums for a moment, "I kind of recognise you..."
"We used to share study periods on Thursdays," Ophelia prompts, not that she's sure Rue remembers. It's not as if they actually studied together; Ophelia studied, Rue... was there.
"Didn't you used to be a dirtbag?" Rue tips her head to the side, scrutinising Ophelia now. Ophelia, despite knowing that someone may notice, may make the connection and have questions, was still caught off guard.
"Dress like one? Sure," Ophelia shifted a little awkwardly, avoiding looking at Jules and her confused, silently questioning glance.
"Cool," Rue says nonchalantly after a beat, only adding to confirm her name; "Lia?" And Ophelia gave her a sunny smile, nodding.
The only things Ophelia can fit in her backpack are her lunch and her phone. Today, lunch meant two apples she'd bought that morning from the grocery on her way to school. It used to include a packet of chips, of a sleeve of Oreos, always something she could buy on her way, but forfeited them for the sake of her optics of her new look.
"Is that all you're having?" Jules seems concerned.
"I'll eat more when I get home," Ophelia assured. Food was an... uncomfortable situation for her; she always preferred eating at home nowadays. Jules doesn't exactly seem placated, but she leaves well enough alone.
The pep rally at lunch is enough to steal her focus, all of their focuses, actually. Its... a lot. Rue and Jules are caught up in their adjustment at how over the top it is, but Ophelia guides her gaze with intent. The coach and his enthusiasm. Maddie and the cheerleaders. The football team riling their peers up. Nate Jacobs, their captain.
For a moment, as his eyes roam the cafeteria, watching the sea of chaos as it ebbs and flows with the excited shouts of his teammates, his gaze catches on her. There's not even a flicker of recognition in his eyes before he's looking past her, to Jules and Rue, frowning. Ophelia pointedly turns her face, turns her eyes to the cheerleaders, to watch what she felt like she was supposed to, rather than to be caught staring at someone she wasn't.
She'd already been attending football games for most of the last semester, part of her pattern of observation, but she'd always kept close to the back of the stands, out of sight, out of mind. Starting this Friday, she'd make herself far more seen at events.
After lunch, and saying goodbye to Rue and Jules, Ophelia walks into her algebra class and takes the front row seat closest to the window. Others filter in behind her, and Ophelia watches them all with the most mild of interest, appearing to zone out more than anything else. Nate is one of the last ones in, with another footballer behind him, and Ophelia let's her gaze drift away so she doesn't look like she's staring. His gaze slides her her with a casual kind of disinterest, and Ophelia realises very suddenly that he has absolutely no recollection of who she is.
Good. A real fresh start.
Still that day afternoon she still takes the long way home out of habit, music in her ears as she follows the suburban streets. Nate's truck is outside his house when she stops past on her habitual detour; she wonders if he'd already dropped Maddie home, or if they were both here. Of course she could check; the backyard bordering on the Jacobs' residence was owned by a young, busy couple who both worked late, a side gate that was easy to scale, and a front door camera that was easy to avoid. But it didn't feel like something worth bothering with today, so she simply lingered a few houses away as she lit herself a cigarette, and continued the final half hour home.
Considering her change in style, she wondered if she could still keep up the routine she'd developed. Walking past his house wasn't the issue; even if he did see her, it's not like he knows where she lives, or that she's going out of her way for him. It was more that she'd taken to sitting under the bleachers after school on Tuesdays and Thursdays, smoking and sketching and pretending like she wasn't watching football practice. With the new persona she'd created for herself, it would seem out of character if she was seen skulking around behind the bleachers.
Beneath the bleachers was another place Ophelia used to see Rue, though she never stayed as long as Ophelia did. It's not as though they hung out; Ophelia kept to the side, trying to remain as unnoticed as possible, and she has a feeling she often succeeded -
"Ophelia? Lia?" While pondering her plans for that Tuesday afternoon, a voice brings her out of her thoughts during her study period, and Ophelia looks up to see Lexi Howard giving her a confused smile. Immediately, Ophelia beams; she's always been rather fond of Lexi, at least since she'd started high school. A year below Ophelia, but with an air of someone much wiser than anyone have her credit for, it wasn't long before they were friends. Lexi wasn't some vague, nebulous figure in Ophelia's life the way the rest of the school was, she was probably the only person Ophelia genuinely considered to be a good friend. Lexi laughed awkwardly, setting her bag down, "you... look different."
"New year, new me," Ophelia shrugged.
"Really new you," Lexi looked her over, still obviously trying to come to terms with Ophelia's new aesthetic, "I almost didn't recognise you; you look really good," she's quick to assure her. Ophelia ducks her gaze, laughing the compliment off as she asked her about her summer. Lexi seemed to relax at the question, thawing out as she chattered away about the break that had just passed. It hadn't been particularly eventful, apart from learning Rue had overdosed and spent the summer in rehab. Ophelia knew this; Lexi had called her the night she'd found out, and Ophelia had stayed on the call for hours in her hotel in Sweden, heart breaking for being too far away to give her friend proper support, or even a hug.
As much as Lexi had spent the summer worried about Rue, she still enjoyed the time away from school. Most of her time was spent either in her room, or with Cassie and her friends; they liked Lexi well enough, and Ophelia was at least glad she had people around her who were good to her.
They're catching each other up on the shows they'd been watching by the time the bell goes. When Lexi stands, she invites Ophelia over to her house.
"I need to know everything that happened in Sweden," she laughed, "I'm still not entirely convinced you didn't somehow get a concussion," she admits, "you still sound like you, but Lia, seriously, you look like a different person," at least she sounds fond, even if the confused concern is back in full force.
"I haven't got brain damage," Ophelia rolled her eyes, "I just wanted a change," she assured honestly. Lexi holds up her hands, placating, warmth still in her gaze as she lets it drop, insisting that she still wanted to hear about Ophelia's summer in Sweden.
"I'm staying back to do some drawing, work on my proportions and poses, but I'll come over after," it was a usual enough occurrence that Lexi nods, not asking any follow-up questions.
Which is how Ophelia finds herself walking back to Lexi's house with Cassie Howard after football practice. It wasn't on purpose; the cheerleaders also had practice on Tuesdays. From what she'd observed, the cheer team trained in the school's gym on Tuesdays and had the field on Wednesdays when it was free. Watching them on Wednesdays wasn't exactly a regular part of Ophelia's routine the way watching the footballers practice was, but she's no stranger to them. Maddie may not be the main focus of her observational habits, but that didn't mean there was no merit in trying to understand what Nate saw in her that meant he kept going back to her.
And the cheerleaders were talented athletes in their own right; more than a few pages in her art journals were dedicated to trying to capture their graceful, dynamic movements. The cheerleaders actually made far more interesting subjects in that respect.
More than once over the past year, Ophelia had considered trying out for the team. She could probably make it; months spent atrophying in a hospital bed at fourteen had lead to extensive physical therapy, and after years of feeling weak and sickly as a child meant it felt good to move her body like that. Exercise had become a big part of her routine in the last few years, not that anyone would suspect it just by looking at her. But she'd always eventually dismissed the idea. She was sure Nate liked that Maddie was a cheerleader, but she didn't think he liked her because she was one, and Ophelia didn't want to draw any unnecessary comparisons if she didn't have to. If he was going to want her, she didn't want it to be because she reminded him of Maddie.
"I feel like I know you from somewhere," Cassie's voice is surprisingly close behind Ophelia when they're a few blocks from the school, and Ophelia gives a start. It's not the first time they'd technically walked back to Cassie's house like this considering their routines, but it's the first time Cassie's spoken to her. Yes, Cassie does know her, but only as one of her little sister's weird friends.
"Yeah," Ophelia gives an awkward laugh, "we're in the same homeroom, Cassie."
"Oh," Cassie frowns, trotting a little quicker to fall into step beside Ophelia. She's still in her cheer uniform, obviously not having bothered to change after practice. It's a good look on her, "right," as she looks at Ophelia for a long moment, it starts to dawn on her, "wait, aren't you Lexi's friend? You're not in my grade, are you?" At least she's smiling, even if it's disbelieving.
"I've been in your grade since we started high school," but Ophelia let's herself smile as Cassie laughs.
"Shut up, no you're not!" She grins widely, "Lia?"
"I've been to your house many times, Cassie," Ophelia reminds her, and Cassie shakes her head.
"Not looking like this you haven't!" She insisted, "you used to be all emo, didn't you?"
"I'm trying something new."
"Clearly," Cassie looked her over, as if evaluating her, "you're like, really pretty, this is so weird," she finally decided on, meeting Ophelia's waiting gaze with a warm smile.
"Why does everyone keep saying that?" Ophelia laughed, and Cassie gestured broadly to her.
"Look at you!"
"I'm still me," Ophelia insisted with a sheepish smile, heart growing warm with the praise, finding herself genuinely enjoying the company on the walk, "I'm just more noticeable now."
#nate jacobs imagine#nate jacobs x oc#nate jacobs x original character#nate jacobs x reader#nate jacobs fanfic#euphoria x original character#euphoria x oc#euphoria original character#euphoria oc#euphoria imagine#auo#euphoria x reader
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Today's gender is an ankle length skirt with knife pleats and that can spin really nice
ㅤ
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It's been awhile! Here's an outfit from last month.
blouse, bow, skirt-pants - Liz Lisa Layer Cake Sweater - L.o.M.O. Loungewear boots - Demonia Looking Sharp earrings - Kikay beret - via The Lolita Collective DMG bag - @/judgedarts
[ID: A black, white, and red girly kei outfit. The main pieces are a white lace blouse and pleated monochrome skirt pants with ribbon detailing. The rest of the outfit includes a grey and black melting design cardigan, dark red tights, black boots, beret, and a large bow pinned at the collar. The accessories include acrylic knife earrings, various rings, and a holographic shoulder bag.]
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thinking about arma pete using his belt on me like a collar. using the long end like a leash. slapping me with the long end if (when) i misbehave. only good puppies get rewards. are you a good puppy? speak only when spoken to. him making me wear one of those short little knife pleated skirts without a stitch of underwear on when we have guests over. if i behave he might let me service joe and patrick and andy. but i’m still his puppy, right? still his. um. i’m so hard oh my god
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1927 c. Salmon silk chemise dress trimmed in blue machine embroidery. The skirt has knife pleats and is edged in blue. From Fashion of Bygone Days, FB.
#1927 c. Fashion #1920′s Fashion #1920′s daywear #1927 daywear
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La Mode nationale, no. 52, 27 décembre 1902, Paris. Toilette de ville et toilette de visite (2, 3) Supplément au no. 52 du 27 décembre 1902 de la Mode Nationale. Bibliothèque nationale de France
(2.) Toilette de ville pour jeune femme ou jeune fille, en bure mélangée bleu mer. La jupe est montée à petits plis autour de la taille; ces plis sont fixés jusqu'au tiers de la jupe et libres jusqu'en bas. De place en place s'alternent des pattes piquées terminées en capucin. Trois cercles de piqûres entourent la jupe. Observer que les deux pattes encadrant le tablier sont un peu plus larges et plus longues que les autres.
Comme corsage, veste à basque un peu longue ou blouse à basque rapportée. Un col très en forme fait pèlerine, couvre le haut de la manche, se découpe devant pour donner deux revers descendant à la taille. Les piqûres qui entourent ce col semblent se prolonger autour de la basque, car elles doivent se raccorder exactement. Plastron de panne rouge; col et cravate d'homme; ceinture noire. La manche plissée du haut fronce dans un poignet cerclé de piqûres.
(2.) City attire for a young woman or girl, in sea blue mixed homespun. The skirt is gathered with small pleats around the waist; these pleats are fixed up to a third of the skirt and free down to the bottom. Here and there, stitched tabs ending in a capuchin alternate. Three circles of stitching surround the skirt. Note that the two tabs framing the apron are a little wider and longer than the others.
As a bodice, a jacket with a slightly long peplum or blouse with a peplum attached. A very shaped collar makes a cape, covers the top of the sleeve, is cut out in front to give two cuffs descending to the waist. The stitching surrounding this collar seems to extend around the peplum, because they must connect exactly. Red panne bib; man's collar and tie; black belt. The pleated sleeve at the top gathers into a cuff circled with stitching.
Matériaux: 6m,50 de lainage, 0m,50 de panne rouge.
Chapeau de feutre noir rayé de blanc, avec paradis noir couché sur le côté gauche. Tour de cou en renard stika.
Black felt hat with white stripes, with black paradise lying on the left side. Stika fox neck warmer.
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(3.) Toilette de visite pour jeune femme ou dame d'âge moyen, en drap beige d'un joli ton doré. La jupe amplifiée du bas se cercle de trois rangs de ganse fine argent et noir ou simplement de piqûres noires. Cette forme amincit par l'évasement des plis de retombée élégante. Veste à petite basque ouverte de chaque côté et soulignée de piqûres qui remontent sur la pince. Gilet de velours brun boutonné d'argent ciselé. Col et revers en soie cachemire de jolis tons harmonisés bleu et rose sur fond clair. La manche tombe droit avec un parement se soie cachemire, à la religieuse.
(3.) Visiting dress for a young woman or middle-aged lady, in beige cloth of a pretty golden tone. The skirt amplified at the bottom is circled with three rows of fine silver and black braid or simply black stitching. This shape is slimmed by the flare of the elegantly falling pleats. Jacket with a small basque open on each side and highlighted with stitching that goes up on the dart. Brown velvet waistcoat buttoned with chiseled silver. Collar and lapels in cashmere silk in pretty harmonized tones of blue and pink on a light background. The sleeve falls straight with a cashmere silk facing, à la religieuse.
Matériaux: 6 mètres de drap, 0m,50 de velours brun; 1 mètre de soie.
Toquet de panne loutre joliment drapé et chiffonné, piqué à gauche d'un couteau. Gros manchon de loutre.
Nicely draped and crumpled otter panne cap, pricked on the left with a knife. Large otter muff.
#La Mode nationale#20th century#1900s#1902#on this day#December 27#periodical#fashion#fashion plate#color#description#bibliothèque nationale de france#dress#city#visiting
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