#layered hose

[clonehub]

Do you think the clones have like a dishwasher for their armor when it's too dirty

[cady181]

rubber hose with spiralled layer extrusion machine with winding machine ...

[snekdood]

God guys yknow. I just never ever noticed that my dogs coat makes them hot in the summer !!!

[mashmouths]

may or may have just drank glass and also plastic. unsure and i have no way of verifying besides the dread building in my chest and also the flavor i'm convinced is plastic. if i suddenly stop posting it's been nice knowing you all <3

[dresshistorynerd]

Sewing a turn of the 15th century French kirtle in doll scale

Another day, another historical doll outfit! This time it's Late Medieval. This was a popular style from about 1380-1420 France and Alpine area, but I specifically based this dress on French illuminations from the early 15th century, which mostly effects the details, like headwear. As always I hand stitched everything and stuck to historical construction methods as much as I could.

Chemise

I made a very simple chemise. The construction is based on what we know from extant finds, made out of simple rectangles and triangles, like earlier unlaced kirtles. Based on illustrations, chemise was fairly slim but unfitted enough it didn't need closures. I made it from linen, because it's not very gathered and won't bulk up too much, so I don't need to use my very fine cotton voile.

Cote

Cote is just the French word for kirtle, so appropriate here. This is the supportive layer cote, which was sort of an undergarment, but was considered fully dressed, if informal on it's own. The sleeves on this underlayer were always long and either fully fitted or gathered at the wrist. Some fitted sleeve styles had a flare at the wrist which covered the hand. The very fitted look was achieved with buttons. The silhouette was smooth and fitted, the waistline was slightly above the natural waist, though that was not as pronounced in France as in Northern Italy. Abdomen was emphasized, round lower stomach was the body ideal. The cut of the dress left plenty of room there. To fill that room I folded the chemise under the abdomen as a sort of padding. This was common to do with any kind of skirts, primarily to raise the hem when working, but why not for this purpose also? The necklines were fairly low and very wide.

I used cotton because I didn't have suitable thin enough wool that wouldn't have created too much bulk on this scale, but the cote should have been made from. The cotton is tightly woven and sells the look of a woven wool in this scale well enough for me. I didn't finish seems or line it to avoid bulk. I did give the lacing a cording to reinforce it and avoid wrinkling. The cotton was originally white, but I dyed it with iron oxide, basically rust, which at least is very much historical.

Hose

I made the hose from cotton as well for the same reasons as I did the cote. Long pointed style became fashionable around this time, as well as sewing leather soles in the bottoms of the hose instead of using shoes. Though often pattens (wooden flipflops basically) could be used when walking outside to protect the leather soles.

Cornettes or horned hair

I tied the hair with a tape on cornettes, where the volume of hair was tied on the temples to create a bit of horned appearance, especially when combined with the horned headwear. The sort of fillet which became more of a forehead loop seemed to have been tied into the hair, which I did.

Cotehardie

Cotehardie meant literally "bold cote", and in France that was what the formal outer cote was called. It was basically the same as cote, but made from more expensive materials and often had large hanging sleeves. I went with widening triangular sleeves, since they were perhaps the most popular sleeves at the time. I used fine fulled wool (verka) I had enough scraps left from. White fur was popular lining material, but obviously I can't use fur in this scale, I wish I had some light white velvet, it would have been pretty good, but I didn't. I lined the skirt and the sleeves with white cotton to imitate the look without adding too much body or extra bulk. I decorated the neckline with a simple golden trim. I thought about adding a bit of golden embroidery around it too, like seemed to have been popular, but my local crafts store had run out of golden thread so I decided to go with this only.

Accessories

Unlike the belt used with houppelande, which was below bust, the belt used with the kirtle or cotehardie, was very low, under the abdomen to emphasize it. I went for a silk belt look, which I'm imagining is embroidered/woven with golden thread, since embroidery that small would have been too painful. I had an old broken necklace, which I could use for the metallic parts.

With the pouch I went for the tasseled drawstring look, with simple embroidery manageable in this scale. I used linen for it.

Headwear

I made her a chaperon, which likely was where the escoffion got it's beginning, escoffion being the round tube-like headwear worn on top of the head seen in several primary source images above. Early form of escoffion was becoming very popular at the time, though chaperon's were still seen on women too. Chaperon, as seen below both on the left-most woman and the man in the middle was actually just the hood rolled into a circle.

Because the horned look was popular, the escoffion and chaperon were often worn over the wired horned veil, so I first made that. I made it from cotton to make it as light as possible. It was just a square I hemmed. I just used some wire to poke out the horns from her hair and pinned the veil close from the back and onto her hair from the top.

Then I made the open hood. It was just the regular hood which had become very popular during the last century and which had ever longer narrow tip, but it was pinned and worn open, probably because of the hair style and to again create the horned look. I made if from the same cotton I made the hose, even though it too should be from wool. But it was already too bulky as it was.

And finally I could make the chaperon. Here's first chaperon without wire or veil under it and then with those. The effect isn't as pronounced as I would have hoped because the hood is too bulky, but there is an effect which is nice.

[reiderwriter]

Okay but, flirty reader majority pointed at Reid, and the scene where he has to get hosed down and says "I'mma bout to get naked, I don't think you wanna see that" and reader's just like raising her hand and says "don't worry I'll stay". And after she walks out to go to the hospital and sees everyone and with an open mouth and wide eyes just goes " woah" cause big dick energy

A/N: Hi, thank you so much for your request! I've been a bit sick lately, so I haven't had a chance to write much, but this was fun and quick to write! I might do a part 2 with the actual smut in the future, so if that's something people would want let me know in the comments!!

Warnings: suggestive content, public dirty talk?

“I really want to see that.” 

You heard the words but weren't sure where they'd come from for the longest time. It had been a confusing morning, with a high alert for anthrax and your coworker trapping himself inside a contaminated lab to save you from dying a presumably very painful death, you couldn't be blamed for not realizing that you'd said the words in question. 

He'd meant the words sarcastically, of course, and they'd warned Morgan off immediately with a chuckle and a “You better survive this, kid,” but you'd stood rooted to the earth until he'd repeated them again. 

“Y/N, they're going to strip me down. You don't want to see that.” 

“I really do, though.” Your eyes unabashedly trailed down the contours of his body, soaked from the hoses currently decontaminating him. You could've sworn that he was moving in slow motion as his hand pushed back his hair and cleared his face of water. 

If there weren't this many CDC agents around, you'd have likely joined him in his impromptu shower to feel your way along the lines of his clothing, checking to see what was outline and what was the thick layers of shirt and pants that unfortunately still obstructed your view. 

Another minute of you ogling him went by before your eyes finally returned to anywhere near his, and you realized that your desire for the man could no longer pass for camaraderie. 

“You better not die, Spencer. Not before I can enjoy the meal I'm about to sample.” 

His doctors were either ignoring the conversation completely or were busy focusing on other things, and luckily, they didn't react to your words. Other than to take Spencer's temperature one more time when he flushed bright red, and stared at you slack-jawed. 

“We're going to have to speed this along, Doctor Reid. Please start unbuttoning your shirt,” one of the hazmatted men said to him, but his eyes were fixed on you. 

“Yes, please do, Spencer. It's for your own good. And mine.” 

You expected him to blush and fawn again, but his day had been as long and confusing as your own, so you were unsurprised when he looked you directly in the eye and began unbuttoning his shirt. You watched his descent, and your breath faltered, seeing the water drip down his bare skin now. 

“I'm not sure which of us is wetter right now,” you tried to joke in earnest, but you felt a sharp jolt of lust in your gut as soon as his hands reached his belt. 

“Y/N, you need to leave now. Before you make this any harder for everyone here.” The innuendo in his words were clear, but you were thankful again for the considerate and/or oblivious doctors either side of him bagging up his discarded shirt and jacket. 

“Only if you promise I can make your life as hard as I want to when you're in the clear.” You smiled again, hoping the full force of your lust would reach him. Spencer was always oblivious to genuine flirtation, you'd observed enough women throwing themselves on him (had discouraged a few too many with a hand on his arm and a finger playing with the abandoned curls at the back of his neck, too) to know that for sure. 

You needed to make your need for him explicit. 

“I mean it, Spencer. I really mean it.” 

His eyes locked with yours for the last time ad you made to turn around, doing your best to convince him without becoming distractedly horny. 

“I know. I'll see you at the hospital.” 

“At the hospital? Risky, I like it.” You winked and turned away, leaving him calling back after you as you walked over to the car Derek had pulled around the front of the property. 

“Wait, not the hospital! Those beds aren’t comfortable. Y/N! Y/N, really!” 

You giggled as you sat down in the car, but you bubbled with anticipation still. 

[cultivating-wildflowers]

heeheehee etc

life is second-hand crummy today, but there are small joys. like a friend sketching the friend group in medieval garb. and fat bear jr coming up next week. and me only needing to pick up one ingredient for mud cake.

[cod-indulgences]

Poly!tf141 x female!reader, gangbang, free use, public humiliation, rough sex, dom/sub vibes

Poly tf141 gangbang anywhere they want it. Home base? You're getting bent over Price's desk and fucked stupid before he lets the boys have their turns filling you up, leaving you so sloppy and wet with come there's no point putting your clothes back on, so why bother princess? Everyone knows what you got up to with all that screaming you just did. Go on, go shower, it's just down the hall- no, no clothes, we just told you. Now get cleaned up or we'll just hose you down outside- there you go, good girl.

You get parked in a safe house on a mission and when the squad comes back amped up, smelling like gunpowder and explosives, you don't even get a chance to ask if they're all okay- Soap throws you down on the bed and tears your panties off, throwing the scrap of broken elastic and cotton away, barely getting his cock out before slamming into you so hard you white out for a moment. He knows he's fucking you bloody like this, but you're clawing at his shoulders and moaning, and isn't this what you're here for anyhow? You belong to them, and however they want you, and when he finishes and Gaz steps into his place you moan and let Ghost tilt your head back, work his cock into your mouth, taking them both so well, so tight and wet, we know you missed us baby. Ghost holds his cock in your throat so you'll clench down on Gaz, milk the come out of him, let Price spread you open and play with the slippery mix of come and slick between your legs. He fucks you as Ghost comes down your throat, your choking a beautiful counterpoint to the wet slapping sounds.

On the transport home there's other soldiers, other men staring at you, their own cocks out in their fists, aiming stripes of come your way. You barely even register them, your squad a knot of muscle and skin around you, each moving in turn to fuck up into your ass and cunt, Ghost and Price sharing you with their foreheads pressed together, Ghost's mask lifted just enough to lick at each other's mouths. Soap and Gaz fuck you between them, rocking you back and forth as they rub their cocks together inside you, only a thin layer of flesh separating them. Hands pinching your nipples and stroking your tongue, whoever isn't inside you fitting their cocks into your hands like toys, moving you where they want to be teased. Gaz and Price, Soap and Ghost, each taking you until you lose track entirely, only the pleasure covering your mind in a haze, drooling openly as you're fucked and fucked and fucked, until your body is so ruined that when they're finally finished Price has to carry you into base, lay you down into a bed that smells like them, let you drift out of consciousness with their come still drying down your legs, across your belly, your pussy and ass stretched open and tender.

The next morning of course, is when you get to thank them for treating you so well- and they did treat you well, remember love, how you cried and came for us over and over, begging for more? What better way than on your knees in the mess, swallowing your breakfast of come, your cunt still sticky and swollen? It's what you deserve, being so good to us.

[atleastpleasetelephone]

Brat

Pairing: 75!Elvis x bratty!reader

Word count: 2.4K

TWs: Smut, reader calls Elvis daddy and sir, reader is bratty, Elvis is dominant, spanking, begging, praise kink, possessive kink, copious amounts of cum(!), licking of said cum, panty stealing!Elvis.

A/N: I was looking at the photo below and started imagining what it would be like to wake up the morning after the night before and put that jacket on... kind of like a fancy version of putting on your boyf's hoody.

Waking up, you roll over and see the sleeping form of Elvis Presley lying next to you. Last night comes back in flashes, the show, the kisses, the after party… you groan and rub your eyes. Looking over at him again, long lashes tickling his cheeks, furry sideburns that tickled your skin some time early this morning… one pyjama’d arm outside of the comforter. You peek under your side of the bedding to confirm your suspicions - you’re completely naked.

Wondering idly where your clothes are, you watch him, chest rising and falling as he continues his peaceful slumber. You stay like that for a while, and then your curiosity gets the better of you. Pulling back the covers, you slide your legs off the bed and let your feet dig into the thick carpet beside it. Checking quickly that you haven’t disturbed him, you stand up and wander round to his side of the room, looking for your clothes. All you find is his jacket from last night, the one he was wearing onstage. A flash of a memory pops up, you trying to free him from the million and one layers he’d been wearing, getting somehow tangled and him laughing, eyes crinkled, belly heaving. Picking up the jacket, you’re surprised by how heavy it is. You sling it around your shoulders and put your arms through the sleeves. Checking your reflection in the mirror, you can’t help but admire the way the shoulders sparkle as you move. They’re so pretty. You do up the single button in the middle and then check the status of sleeping beauty in the bed again. He still hasn’t moved a muscle. You turn the door handle slowly and then pull the door towards you, poking your face through the gap.

The scene before you is messy and brings back another ghost of a memory of the night before; a blur of bodies, laughter and singing. Some of the bodies are still there, one asleep in an armchair and a couple lying on the floor. There are bottles and glasses strewn everywhere, as well as odd shoes and random items of clothing left behind by their owners. You squeeze through the doorway and then carefully close the door behind you as silently as you can. Padding through the rest of the suite looking at the detritus of the night before, you finally find what you’re looking for. Or, some of it. There’s your dress, and your bra. Your panties are nowhere to be seen. Neither are your hose, but thinking about them reminds you of Elvis between your legs, tearing them off with his teeth. That explains that, then. Picking the clothes up, you finish your little tour of the suite at the coffee machine, setting up a pot and waiting for it to brew. The noise makes a couple of people stir in their sleep, but none of them wake up. You grab a packet of cookies that you find under the counter along with a freshly poured coffee and take your spoils with you back to the bedroom. Slowly, quietly opening the door…

“Where’ve ya been?”

His voice is hoarse and he doesn’t sound pleased. A supposition on your part that’s confirmed by the look on his face, frowning, an exasperated hand running from brow to chin. Looking like he couldn’t believe you’d leave the room without permission.

“Tryna find my clothes,” you explain, slipping into the room and closing the door behind you.

His eyes skate over you in his jacket, and only his jacket, and the look makes your nipples harden with excitement.

“Ya find ‘em?”

You nod, making your way towards him. “Most of ‘em anyway.” Cocking your head to the side, you squint at him a little. “You seen my panties?”

“Well I can tell yer not wearin’ ‘em now.” An eyebrow raised in challenge.

“I would be,” you counter, tossing your dress and bra onto an armchair near your side of the bed. “If I knew where they were. Thought you mighta seen ‘em.”

You take a sip of coffee and watch his reaction.

“You accusin’ me of somethin’, little girl?”

“If the shoe fits.” You throw the pack of cookies at him. “Want a cookie?”

His mouth curls into a smile and he laughs a little. “Yer somethin’ else, ya know that?”

“Want a sip of coffee to go with? Or I could get ya your own?”

You move closer, almost within grabbing distance.

“An’ go out there again with no panties on?”

“Well, if I knew where they were…” head to one side now, one hand on your hip.

He shakes his head slowly. “C’mere. Put that down.”

One step nearer and now you’re definitely close enough to touch, setting your cup down on the side and smiling at him. He pulls the covers back, revealing his hard-on straining against the material of his pyjama bottoms. You bite your lip.

“C’mon.”

You don’t need telling twice, taking his hand to help you back on the bed and into his lap. His hands slide up your thighs and you can see him admiring the view between your legs. Not wanting to waste any time, you reach into his pants and pull his dick out, stroking it lovingly. His breathing gets heavier and he glances up at your face.

“Ya look good in my jacket.”

You smile, wickedly. “Want me to ride you in it?”

He nods eagerly, then moans as you shuffle forward a little, rubbing him against your pussy.

“Fuck, baby.”

Moaning a little too, you keep sliding his dick against you, covering it with your arousal.

“You like that?” You tease, knowing fine well he does.

“Mmm. Put it in, baby. Need ta feel ya.”

Your brain short-circuits to last night, his head between your legs, your fingers in his hair. He’d said it was too late, or he was too tired, or too drunk, or too old. But he’d made you cum again and again with his hands and his mouth.

You get onto your knees before sinking slowly down onto his length for the first time, gasping at the way he stretches you out. His eyes are squeezed shut as a breath puffs out through his full, pink lips.

“Shit.”

Roughened fingertips dig into your hips as you sit there, getting used to him. His eyes open slowly and he stares at you. You stare back.

“Your dick feels good.”

Elvis isn’t used to women being quite so vulgar, and his eyes go wide at the words.

“H-honey,” he stammers a little as you start to roll your hips. “No need fer that kinda language, i-is there?”

Nibbling your lower lip you try to hide your smile. “But Daddy, it feels good.”

You see the blush rising over his face at your words and the smile sneaks through against your will.

“S-stop it.”

“Stop what?” You’re wide-eyed, putting on the expression of an innocent girl who doesn’t know what she’s doing. “Stop moving, Daddy? That what you want?” Your hips still.

“That filthy language, little girl,” he chastises, trying to win back the upper hand. “Don’t wanna hear that coming outta that pretty lil mouth a yours.”

You remain still, tilting your head to the side, questioningly. “I only called ya Daddy.”

“Well I didn’t ask ya ta, did I?”

His fingers dig into your flesh again, and this time it hurts a little. You wonder what kind of game you’re playing now, but you can’t stop.

“You don’t like it?”

His jaw clenches and his eyes darken. “Move.”

“No.”

His tongue runs along his lower lip slowly, and then makes it way over his upper lip too. As if he’s contemplating what exactly to do with a girl who disobeys him.

“I’ll move ya then.”

His hands are big and strong, and they move you up and down on him with ease. You press your lips together firmly and try your best to look like you’re not enjoying yourself. He looks at you with interest, you can see him analysing your every move, each little look, how heavily you breathe. You feel like he knows you’re pretending, but you have to keep it up. Can’t let him think he’s won.

“Ya look so pretty,” he observes. “Gettin’ fucked on my dick.”

Your eyes go wide, almost involuntarily. You’re outraged, you can’t help it.

“You just told me off fer bein’ vulgar!”

He smirks, and you know he enjoyed getting that rise out of you.

“That’s my prerogative, honey,” he explains, a finger moving to flick the jacket button open, exposing your naked torso. “Like ma girls ta be polite.”

“Even when they’re gettin’ fucked on your dick?”

He slaps you hard on the side of the thigh. You squeal.

“What did I jus’ tell ya?”

“But yer not being fair!” You whine, your composure completely gone.

He smirks, saying nothing in response, which makes you even more mad. How can he be allowed to say whatever he wants, and you’re not allowed to cuss? Or talk about his dick? Or even call him Daddy? You find yourself making a bratty whining noise, huffing out the air in your cheeks and frowning moodily. It just makes him smirk all the more, still moving you up and down on him.

“Ya want me ta be yer Daddy, ya haveta do as yer told.”

You whine again and he slaps your ass this time.

“C’mon, little girl. Don’t make me spank ya til yer sore.”

The look on your face is still defiant and he recognises it immediately and shakes his head, clicking his tongue too. He lets go of your hips and you sit down on him with a bump. One arm wraps around you, pulling you tightly against him and making the jacket ride up a little.

“Yer gonna do as yer told, baby,” he purrs into your ear, as his other hand moves back just enough to deliver a hard slap to your ass cheek.

You try not to react, but with your body pressed against him like this he can feel everything. Your breathing changes, you make involuntary little noises as he keeps spanking you, your pussy grips him like a vice. You grit your teeth as he keeps going, hard slow slaps and then three or four fast ones in a row. Eventually you can’t keep it together any longer and you groan into his neck.

“Please stop… please.”

You hear his low chuckle in your ear. “Ya gonna be a good girl f’me?”

“Yes. I promise.”

His lips drag up your neck, giving you goosebumps.

“No more cussin’?”

“N-no more cussin’.”

You feel his lips curling into a smile against your skin and you want to be annoyed that you’ve lost, but there’s something about him putting you in your place when you’re being a brat that’s making you embarrassingly wet right now.  

“No callin’ me Daddy ‘less I tell ya ta?”

“No… I promise… I’m sorry,” you breathe.

“Oh. Good girl,” he coos back.

You feel yourself melt. This back and forth between you is electric, you’ve never felt a spark like it. You want to be good for him. More than that, you want to be naughty and for him to make you be good for him. He lets you go and you start to move up and down on him, bouncing on his dick, your hands on his shoulders for balance. The look on his face is one of pure satisfaction; knowing he’s successfully broken a bratty little girl and made her his.

“Ya gonna make Daddy cum?”

You nod quickly. You do want to make him cum.

“Yes,” you whisper.

He grunts with pleasure, and you feel his hips buck into you erratically now. You moan too, it feels so good and you don’t care that you can’t cum like this. All you want is to please him. Without warning, he picks you up and plonks you back down on his legs, telling you to finish him with your hand. You do, and it’s seconds before you and the jacket are covered in him. The noise he makes when he finishes is so sexy you immediately want to find out what to do to make him hard again.

He looks up at you through hooded eyes. “Made a mess a my jacket, honey.”

You nod.

“Why don’tcha lick it clean?”

There’s still a hotness between your legs and that desperate urge to please him, so you do as he says, licking your sleeve and lapel and then running your finger over your belly, collecting the semen there and sucking it off again. When you’re done with yourself you get off him, lying to one side and licking his belly clean too. His hand goes to your face.

“That’s enough, pretty girl.”

He slides down beside you in the bed and kisses you deeply. Pushing the jacket off your shoulders he pulls you in close, tangling your legs together. When you eventually both draw breath, his forehead presses against yours and you look into his beautiful blue eyes.

“Thank you,” comes out of your mouth before you can think about it. 

He grins. “Ya were good fer me in the end.”

“Good enough to… call ya somethin’?” You venture.

“Maybe,” he teases. “Still wanna know what happened ta yer panties?”

You’d forgotten all about the panties, but you are interested so you nod, watching him reach into one of his pockets and pull out a black lacey pair that you recognise. He waves them in front of your face and grins.

“You kept them!” You can’t help squealing.

He smirks. “Sure did. Somethin’ ta remember ya by.”

“Am I leavin’?” You ask, trying not to let your voice wobble.

“Not unless ya want ta.”

You shake your head. “No sir. I wanna stay here and please you.”

He drops the panties onto the bed and grabs your face with his hand. You can hear the satisfaction in his tone. “I think sir is a very good place ta start with that, baby. You please me enough an’ imma let ya call me daddy.”

“Yessir.” You tingle all over with excitement. 

He moans at the honorific and starts to kiss you again. This promises to be a very fun day indeed…

***

Taglist:

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed:

@vintagepresley @arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @cattcb @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @ccab @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog @ladelinee @angschrof @fairybloodsucker @deltafalax @makethemorning @elviswhore69 @ilovequeen978 @wildhorseinkansas @pocketfulofpresley @dkayfixates @iloveelvisss @kxnnxy

[thesimline]

1500s MEN - LOOKBOOK

By the 1500s we start to see the broad and square silhouette come into fashion for men. This impressive shape was achieved through the use of over-the-top sleeves, balloon-like pants and overcoats made from layers upon layers of billowing fabric. Wealth and status were communicated through rich fabrics and opulent ornamentation, with some English and French lords even bankrupting themselves to pay for these wardrobes.

You can find more of my historical content here:

1300s ✺ 1400s ✺ 1500s ✺ 1600s ✺ 1700s

OUTFIT RESOURCES

King: Crown | Hair (Dream Home Decorator) | Facial Hair | Outfit | Right Rings (TSR) | Left Ring

Noble: Hat | Hair | Facial Hair | Ruff (TSR) | Outfit | Sash | Left Ring (TSR) | Hose | Shoes (City Living)

Courtier: Hat | Hair | Facial Hair (Eco Lifestyle) | Cloak | Outfit | Sword

Page: Hair | Outfit | Cloak | Hose | Shoes (City Living)

Bowman: Helmet | Hair (Moschino) | Facial Hair | Outfit | Quill | Shoes

Halberdier: Hat | Hair (TSR) | Facial Hair | Ruff | Top | Pants | Sword & Dagger | Hose | Halberd (TSR) | Shoes (Spa Day)

Clansman: Hat | Hair (Eco Lifestyle) | Beard | Cloak (TSR) | Top (TSR) | Kilt | Shoes (TSR)

Merchant: Hat | Hair | Facial Hair | Outfit | Right Rings (TSR) | Left Ring (TSR) | Belt

Artisan: Hat | Hair (High School Years) | Facial Hair | Coat | Necklace (TSR) | Outfit | Shoes (Get Famous)

Shopkeeper: Hat | Hair | Facial Hair | Necklace | Top | Gloves | Pants | Hose | Shoes (Get To Work)

Citizen: Hat | Hair (retired - direct download) | Facial Hair | Outfit

Workman: Hat | Hair (retired - direct download) | Facial Hair (TSR) | Outfit | Hose (TSR) | Shoes (Base Game)

With thanks to some amazing creators: @simverses @plazasims @natalia-auditore @satterlly @chere-indolente @wiccandove @oydis @notsooldmadcatlady @batsfromwesteros @daylifesims @simsregalia @regina-raven @bobnewbie @ilkup @diosasims @shandir @jools-simming @igorstory @ice-creamforbreakfast @glitterberrysims @imvikai @veigasims @lehgames

[madds-is-ace-trash]

Nightwing why are you warring a cape? Well for the baby of course! Dcxdp

This takes place in the same universe as my fic Mother of the storm and her star child.

A few years have passed and Danny is completely settled in and moved to bulhaven with dick. Eventually around the time he’s Turing 9 he insists that he wants to go out at night with dick. Dick is hesitant but Danny insist, pointing out how his abilities would make him the perfect recon detective. Dick can no longer argue when Danny beats both Damian and Cass the first day of training and he is out out in the field.

Danny hose out in his ghost form and picks the name phantom because it feels right and now nightwing patrols with a bird if his very own for the first time in a while. Danny is very good on patrols, he sticks close to dick often clinging to him and hiding behind him when dick is interacting with people. He’ll often turn invisible but it still doesn’t fell like enough to dick. He quickly released that he missed the cape and the layer of securing it added when Damien was his Robin.

So nightwing starts wearing a cape, and the people of his city starts coming up with all sorts of theories for the sudden change. The range from him practicing because he’s taking over the cowl to him hiding new gadgets. Very few have seen Danny and those who have are often not believed because, “nightwing had glowing eyes under his cape!” Is not very believable.

He doesn’t wear the cape all the time just when he has Danny, the cape is long the outside is black but the inside has a blue and black feather design so it looks like wings when he glides. It has a feature where it retracts in to a role on his back when he need more freedom of movement. And I’m addition to the cape he now has an extra loop hanging form his belt for Danny to grab on to as the hop rooftops. (Danny can will him self to weigh nothing so dick tends to pull him along as he floats any way)

As the news of dicks sudden costume adjustment is circulating he has to come to the watchtower with B for a mission. Danny tags along hiding in his cape like all the Robin had before him with Bruce. Meanwhile Bruce is totally not going all mushy over his grandson he is totally normal about this. All of the Leagers keep giving dick looks.

Until flash finally ask

Wally: so um nightwing what’s with the cape? I thought you hated them?

Dick*with a bright smile across his face*: it’s for my shadow!

Wally: your shadow? How is a cape ganna hide your shadow.

Dick: no not my actual shadow it’s to hide my bird.

Diana: your bird?

*Dick flares one side of the cape revealing the feathered pattern underneath but nothing else is visible hidden under the cape*

Wally: I don’t se-

Dick: whistles like a bird call

Danny slowly fading in to view giving the league a small wave as he scrambles to hide behind dicks legs: Hello

Hal: really Bruce another one!?

Dick Smiling at the small boy in his cape before closing it : nope this one’s all mine!

Meanwhile John Constantine who is present for this mission is freaked the fuck out. Because that kid with the flowing white hair and glowing freckles is definitely not human. And worse than that from what he can sense it’s pretty darn powerful to. He watches as all of his coworkers are working to get the boy out from hiding cooing over him.

Clark: he’s looking a lot better nightwing

Wally: Waite you already new about him?

Clark: yes the boy is nightwings child I’m guessing he only is just now joining the team

Diana: what’s your name little one?

Danny poking his head out of the cape: phantom my name is phantom

Fuck why was that name familiar? Oh shit that’s right John had heard rumors of the new ghost king and a prince milling around the infinite realms this must be the little ghost prince. How the fuck did dick end up with him? Waite sups said that was dicks kid, hold did dick?

John: ha Oh my god! You crazy fucker you fucked the ghosts king!

[lunarw0rks]

Hello again! I love your works and it's super early to request another but I read your latest post and I loved it! So if you don't mind, could you do headcanons on 141 reacting to their s/o cleaning their car?

Like one of those stereotypical scenes where she's in a bikini or a bikini top with shorts and she's cleaning her car, like she loves her car so she cleans it alot but this is the first time they see the full scene. NSFW would be amazing if you would be ok with it :)

Thank you :]

In The Sunlight // 141 Headcanons (+Ale)

Warning(s): explicit content (18+), suggestive language/content, established relationship, fem!reader, no use of y/n

Word Count: 1.6k

꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ 141 MASTERLIST // have a request? // ˗ˏˋ ASK BOX ˎˊ˗

SYNOPSIS; summer hit, and it hit hard.

Sizzling atmosphere, sky-rocketing temps, and revolving fans working overtime. Every year, people complain that they miss winter when the high temps smack them in the face, but they wish for the heat when the leaves fall. For you—you would take any excuse to enjoy the hose and sprinkler, sometimes washing your car weekly as an excuse to cool off. Cold showers, ice packs, air conditioning; it wasn’t enough. 

On the bright side, it gave you an excuse to wash your beloved car. To run the hose on the vehicle, and most of all your sweating skin; all while wearing revealing summer attire.

Price

John was due to be home that day, the house was lonely, and you were miserable in the heat. Why not be outside when he comes home? You dressed yourself in a bikini to sprit yourself with the hose, spending about half the time searching for a cool off than washing your car. In your other hand, you had an drink with more ice cubes than liquid; a soothing cube to crunch on while you worked. You swirled your drink as you put another cube between your teeth, spreading the foamy soap with intense focus.

That focus broke when his car finally pulled into the driveway, revealing his attempt at an eager welcome. He was exhausted, but never too exhausted to greet you. Besides, you wearing a basically see-through swimsuit? How can he resist?

❝Don’t work too hard, sweetheart. You’ll get heat stroke.❞ John crept up to you, dropping his duffel. He leaned down and sipped from your drink, picking up an ice cube between his teeth. His lips leaned forward, tracing the ice along your neck and down your cleavage until it melted against your flesh. ❝Let me help you cool off, I missed all of you.❞ His lips found your drink again, meeting your lips with a dripping chunk of ice—a whole new meaning to a sloppy kiss.

Simon

Simon hates the heat—despises it, even. All year round, he wears dark colors, multiple layers, and most notably his balaclava. Does that stop him from ogling you? Not a bit. He can enjoy the view from inside, peering through the curtains at your soaked figure as you scrub your prized car. You lean over the edge, bikini top doing little to contain your breasts as he gets a good view down the top. Simon lets out an amused scoff at the sight, closing the curtains before you have the opportunity to spot him.

You come back inside for some water, wrapping a towel so you don’t dribble on the floor. A hand darts out of the doorway of the kitchen, Simon’s hand gripping the towel and giving it a yank until it falls to the floor. ❝Gave the neighbors a show, didn’t you?❞

He steps out from his hidden spot around the counter, giving your arm a gentle pull so you come towards him, until your face his inches from his. Normally, he leaves his teasing until nightfall, but he’s home and you’re soaked.

❝Need to get you into some better clothes.❞ His strong arms slither around your midsection, gripping intensely. No better excuse, assisting you in getting another change of clothes after he carries you to the bedroom.

Soap

The humidity constantly disturbed your slumber. You and Soap’s shared bedroom was more like a sauna, no matter how long the fans or AC ran. It was so severe you laid awake during the early morning, tossing and turning, peeling the covers stuck to your sweaty body. There was no point in attempting to sleep, you were wide awake at four-thirty in the morning, might as well go outside and cool off. Your car could use a wash, anyhow.

You slipped on a bikini and stepped out into the morning air. The sun hadn’t risen completely, so the heat wasn’t unbearable yet. The hose spewed a stream of water on the hood as you did your first rinse, then scoured cleaner on it. You bent over the hood of your car to reach a spot you missed, lips curled in concentration.

When you felt a pair of hands on your hips, you let out a squeal, quickly soothed by a familiar accent. ❝Don’t move,❞ he purred into your ear, tugging your bottoms down to your ankles. Soap knelt behind you, swiping his tongue along your folds. Your gaze darts around the dim streets, insisting a neighbor will see.

He speaks, then his licks only gained intensity and sloppiness. ❝Let ‘em see.❞

Gaz

As soon as the two of you find time to be outside, it’s an immature sight; chasing each other through the backyard, spraying one another with the hose, or on days where he’s beat, he’ll simply watch you from the hot tub. Today, it was betrayal. You were washing your car, completely believing the fact that Gaz was “too tired” for games tonight. He was too calculated to not have a battle plan, you should’ve known better, right?

As you’ve returned from refilling the soapy bucket, there’s an icy pour of ice water, over the top of your hair, soaking your bikini top, all the way down your jean shorts and legs. With an agape mouth, you drop the bucket and chase after his fleeting figure—a smug grin on his face the whole time. When you round the corner into the backyard, he’s nowhere in sight. As you creep up on the shed, he finally reveals himself, sending you both to a tumble in the grass.

Kyle constricts your arms above your head, grinning down at your hopeless struggle. ❝I didn’t cheat, you just need better eyes, babe.❞ He loosens his grip when you stop fighting him, leaning down to press a kiss on your lips. He places a knee between your legs, staring down at your soaked bikini top hungrily. ❝You look so goddamn sexy like this…❞

Alejandro

You were washing away, brows knitted in focus. Then, you remembered you had left your water bottle on the kitchen counter. The windows were wide open because you were airing out the house on a hot day, so it was worth a shot hollering for Alejandro. ❝Ale, can you bring me my water? Ale?❞ You raise your voice slightly because there’s no way he can’t hear you.

❝In the backyard, cariño.❞ His unmistakable voice replies, distant from the back of the house. You sigh and enter the house, finding your water but no sign of Alejandro, even through the paned glass windows and sliding door. In reality; he had been ogling you for several minutes, waiting for his opportunity for either you to ask for something, or him making something up on the spot. Lucky for him, your need for your bottle had everything going according to plan.

You exited to the backyard, holding a hand up to block the sun. Even if he was visible right now, he would be impossible to spot from the blaze of the star. ❝Right here, amor.❞ Alejandro crept out from out of the shade, wrapping his arms tight around your waist. You knew what this meant—it was inevitable with him. And yet, you fell for it again.

In the next second, you were plunged into the pool, instinctively wrapping your legs around his waist. He chuckles at your whines of contempt, pressing his forehead against yours. ❝How was that? You fell for it again, que no?❞ It’s obvious he can’t resist you in a bikini.

Laswell

There are two things Kate can’t get enough of; sunbathing and eyeing you. Sitting on the lounge chairs, reclined with a book or magazine in hand. It’s not often she’s on leave, or home long enough to spend outside. Today was different—she had some time off. She intended to spend as much time outside enjoying the heat, much more preferable than being cooped up in an understimulating base. And watching you while she vedged out? It’s a common pursuit of hers, bikini on or not.

You held your hair up with one hand, the other using the sprinkler setting to mist yourself. Kate tipped her sunglasses down slightly to get a better view, a warm beam spreading on her face. Her nose crinkled slightly as you sprayed the hood of the car, spreading the suds around on the surface.

She flicked to the next page of her magazine, soaking in the sunbeams.

Though she would never say it out in the open, she was certainly ogling her favorite parts of you; your sunkissed chest, the curves hugged tight by shorts—all a cherished image for the next time she leaves, and probably later that night after dinner. ❝How much for you to do mine too, babe?❞

To add to it, she probably snaps candid photos of you, the stream of them probably ending with you blocking the lens with your hands. She’s her own favorite comedian, your complaints and embarrassed whines are a close second.

[nothorses]

So I'm thinking of going on low dose T, and ofc I'll get more feedback from doctors when I see them, but I know one of the changes is that you run warmer and have lower heat tolerance, and I'm already kind of heat sensitive (sweating is a sensory ick). Do you or your followers have any kind of coping strategies that have helped with that?

I ran warm before, too, and I'm definitely warmer now! I also have Raynaud's which kind of makes the whole experience a clusterfuck, but that's besides the point. lmao.

I live in a pretty cool/temperate area, so it isn't normally an issue except in the (increasingly horrible) summers, but I've found that the hardest time to stay cool has been at night. I share a bed with my partner who runs even warmer, and it's been 2.5 years of struggling to figure out how to be a comfortable temperature together.

The best advice I can give you is to just stay as far away from synthetic fibers as you can; "sweat wicking" and "cooling" and "athletic" stuff included. It's a lie. They're all plastic, and while they might feel cool to the touch at first, plastic doesn't breathe. It'll trap heat and moisture against your skin after enough time, especially in the form of blankets. (Fuck the Rest Evercool. Worst recommendation I've ever gotten.)

Look for 100% linen, or 100% cotton. I've heard wool also works well, but I haven't had luck with that personally. Woven fabrics are going to be cooler and more breathable than sateen, and waffle weave is like, the single most breathable weave afaik (it's more common in blankets, but some clothes are waffle).

Some of these things can be pretty scratchy at first, and I recommend a couple of washes on a high heat & some fabric softener before you start using them. We were able to break in our waffle blanket super quickly this way! (I know some folks recommend against softener for breathability reasons, but it's the only thing that actually worked for us, and it hasn't impacted breathability). After you break them in, though, cotton and linen fabrics are SUPER soft!

I also recommend staying away from leather. It's natural, but trust me: it's not breathable. It's coveted in outdoor rec spaces BECAUSE it's somewhat waterproof.

Outside of that, I'd really encourage you to lean towards multiple light layers that you can change/remove throughout the day to suit your needs (ex: light tee + fleece + wind/rain layer, maybe throw in a flannel somewhere), instead of one or two heavy ones (ex: shirt + big puffy cold weather jacket). It's a strategy common in the PNW that works great for regulating your temperature when you're dealing with humidity and somewhat unpredictable weather, and imo, it also really translates if you're just generally sensitive to heat and sweat.

Outside of that... depending on where you live, I really recommend having an AC/dehumidifier. Don't bother with trying to rig up a swamp cooler if you're sensitive to sweat- the increased humidity will make things worse. The general advice I heard when researching a good AC was that window units will always be more efficient than portable units (and a mini split is better than either), but if you have to go with a portable unit, go with a dual-hose. They'll be more efficient just because they don't create a vacuum that pulls in warm air from outside. This is the model we settled on- it was really highly recommended and cost effective for what it is, and it's been absolutely fantastic this summer.

Idk how you are about pits, but I wash mine with a benzoyl body wash and then use a deodorant with antiperspirant every day, and I virtually never smell or sweat. 🤷‍♂️ ymmv though

I'm sure folks will have things to add, so check the notes on this post- and good luck!

[buckys-arm-and-rios-dagger]

Thinking about giving Bucky a bath for the first time after he gets away from HYDRA.

You and him escaped after the Potomac fight, he'd come back only to free you from HYDRA. He knew that you had never wanted to be in their clutches. You were the only one in that had showed him any kindness in his decades of imprisonment, he couldn't just leave you behind. Now the two of you sat in what was once HYDRA safehouse, trying to figure out your next move. He sat on the opposite side of the couch from you, his knees pulled against his chest. You watched him, unsure what to do. In all the time you two had been imprisoned together you'd never seen him like this. He looked scared, confused...vulnerable.

You debated reaching out to touch his hand, but decided against it. He was like a wounded animal in this state, and the last thing you wanted to do was something that would spook him and break the fragile trust he'd placed in you for all these years. So, you simply moved closer to his side, just trying to remind him that he wasnt going through this alone. You looked him over from your spot. He was still wearing his tac suit, covered in a layer of grime and blood and dirt and smelling of river water, mixing with smoke and sweat. You saw your in. This was a former HYDRA safehouse, set up for agents to stay here for who knew how many days. Surely there had to be some clothes in the bedroom, and some soap in the bathroom?

His body went tense for a moment, but he shook his head. He didn't know how to explain to you that the idea of standing under a spray of water reminded him too much of being stripped and hosed off after missions. He could almost hear the icy water slamming into his naked body.

"Soldat," you gently called him by the only thing close to a name that you had for him. The man startled, but his eyes met yours, "why don't you go grab a shower? I can't imagine sitting around in that wet leather suit is very comfortable."

"N-no," he stammered, "I... I don't want to do that."

He thought for a moment. A bath sounded... Nice. Safe.

"Okay," you spoke to him gently, as though trying to comfort a scared injured dog, "what about a bath? Would that be better?"

"Yes. Okay."

You nodded and stood, motioning for him to follow.

"Bucky."

"Come on Soldat."

You cocked your head.

"Uh, the...the man on the bridge," he explained, "he said my name was Bucky."

"Sorry?"

The man, Bucky, grunted in response and followed behind you like a lost puppy. You lead him into the bathroom. You checked the shower/tub combination, and were relieved to find a bar of soap and a hotel sized bottle of shampoo sitting on a small shell. You closed the toilet lid, motioning for him to sit, and he complied. Bucky said nothing as the tub filled up, just simply sat and watched the water rise through vacant eyes. Once it was full, you got up and turned to leave.

"Well, it's nice to finally have a name for you other than 'Soldat'," You gave him a gentle smile, "its nice to meet you, Bucky."

"Alright, Bucky," you gave him a reassuring smile, "you get undressed and clean up. While you're doing that I'll go find some clothes-"

You were taken aback. This man, Bucky, who had endured so much pain and abuse, was now entrusting you to see him in such a sensitive state. To wash him, to take care of him. You nodded shyly.

"Wait." He looked up at you with pleading eyes, "will...will you help me?"

You turned around to give Bucky some privacy while he undressed, and when he said he was ready you turned to see him sat in the bath, looking up at you with nervous eyes. You'd managed to find a wash cloth, and knelt by his side.

"Of course."

He leaned forward, allowing you full access. You began to carefully scrub the grime from his body, asking for consent before moving onto another body part. Bucky leaned into your touch, closing his eyes as you cleaned him, a small display of trust that made your chest ache. Once he was fully lathered, you went to grab the shower head and his eyes shot back open, his metal hand grabbing your wrist. Not harshly, not to cause you pain, just enough to grab your attention.

"Can I start washing your body?" Bucky hesitated, but eventually nodded, "okay. I'm going to start with your back."

"I..." You thought for a moment, "okay. Hang on, Bucky. Let me see what I can find."

"N-no," Bucky murmured, "please. Not that."

You managed to find a cup in the kitchen, and held it up as you returned.

Once his body was free from bubbles, you grab the small shampoo bottle and smile.

"is this okay?" You asked. He nodded. You resumed your spot on the side of the tub and began to dunk the cup in the water and pour it into his skin, removing the bubbles. Bucky was shocked at your behavior. You didn't push his boundaries, you didn't yell at him for expressing he didn't want something. You simply found a new way that made him feel comfortable, even when it would take longer. Comfort and safety were things he had been denied for so long that he didn't believe they were even things he was capable of feeling, or receiving. And yet, here you were, being so careful and looking at him with eyes full of an emotion he had trouble placing. It was like he was something precious, something worthy of loving, and it filled him with so much longing it was almost painful.

He did as instructed, and you began dousing his brunette locks with cupfulls of water. Bucky hummed at the feeling of water slowly tracing its way down his locks and onto his back, and you repeated the step over and over until it was sufficiently wet. You grabbed the small bottle and squeezed a small glob into your hand, reminding him of your intentions before reaching up to start shampooing him. Bucky closed his eyes and hummed involuntarily as you worked. You took your time massaging soap into his roots, reveling in the fact you could make him feel so good. After rinsing the suds from his hair you repeated the steps over and over until it was free from grime. You smiled a bit at the little whimper he let out as your hands pulled away from his head.

"I'm going to wash your hair now, is that alright?" He nodded and you grabbed the cup, "alright Bucky. Keep your head back, I'm gonna wet your hair."

"Why don't you go lay down in the bedroom?" You ask when he's finished, "you must be exhausted after the day you've had."

"You stay here and relax, I'm going to grab some clothes for you." Bucky nodded, and you went into the small bedroom. You didn't have many options, but you managed to find a dark red t shirt and black sweatpants that look like they'll fit, and bring them into him alongside a towel. When you returned, you left them on the counter and turned around to give him time to dry off and dress.

Bucky's eyes found the ground as he fiddled with the hem of his shirt.

You cocked your head.

"Would, uh... Would you...," his cheeks were turning a light shade of pink, "will you, uh... Will you stay with me?"

You hesitated a moment, but nodded.

"I just," he finally forced himself to look you in the eyes, "I don't want to be alone."

"Let me shower and I will," you gave him a soft smile. He nodded, and left you to it. You rushed through the shower as quickly as you could and dressed in the too-big T-shirt and sweats you had grabbed for yourself before joining Bucky in the room. He was sitting on the bed, once again with his knees to his chest, his back leaning against the headboard. You pulled the sheets back and helped him lay down. Bucky sighed as you pulled the covers over his shoulders and sat by his side.

"Of course I am," you couldn't stop yourself from reaching out and gently tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, "I'll sit here with you for as long as you want."

"You're going to stay, right?" He asked. You nodded.

Bucky chewed his lip for a moment.

"Do you want to lay down?" He asked, lifting the covers. He had no idea when the last time he'd invited someone to sleep in his bed with him, but it had to have been a while. It scared him, but the warm look on your face gave him confidence.

"I'd like that," you told him, and settled down by his side. The two of you laid on your backs in silence for a long moment.

You smiled and nodded. Bucky wrapped his arms around you from behind and pulled you close to his chest. He buried his face in your neck, and you reached up to stroke his hair.

"Can I," you turn to look at him, "can I hold onto you?"

"You should rest," you whispered.

"You'll be here when I wake up?" He asked.

"Of course."

Bucky slowly drifted off with you in his embrace, soothed by the feeling of your hand in his hair. Tomorrow, the two of you will figure out your next move, where you plan to go now that you're fugitives. But for tonight, you were content to lay here, tangled up in his arms as he slept peacefully for what was probably the first time in decades.

Anyways, I love this sweet baby boy 💕💕

[rjzimmerman]

The Great Salt Lake isn’t just drying out. It’s warming the planet. (Washington Post)

Like some dystopian astronaut, Melissa Cobo would hike the searing flats of the dried-out Great Salt Lake every couple of weeks, hauling a heavy backpack attached by a hose to what looked like the lid of a cake dome. What remained of the lake often seemed out of reach as she struggled through hot mud, clay and a weird crystalline layer that broke with her footsteps onto a greenish muck.

“You see the water, but you never actually get to it, no matter how many hours you walk,” Cobo said.

Through these grueling treks, Cobo, then a Utah State University graduate student, and her adviser, Soren Brothers, discovered more disturbing evidence that dried-out lakes are a significant source of carbon dioxide emissions — one that has not been included in the official accounting of how much carbon the world is releasing into the warming atmosphere.

In a new study in the journal One Earth, the researchers calculated that 4.1 million tons of carbon dioxide and other greenhouse gases were released from the drying bed of the Great Salt Lake in 2020, the year Cobo and others collected the samples. This would amount to about a 7 percent increase in Utah’s human-caused emissions, the authors found.

While other researchers have documented carbon emissions from dried-out lakes — including the Aral Sea in Central Asia — Brothers said that his study tried to calculate what part of the emissions from this major saline lake could be attributed to humans, as the Great Salt Lake has been drawn down for human use, a decline worsened by climate change and the West’s megadrought of the past two decades.

“This is the first time we’re saying, ‘This is something that’s on us,’” said Brothers, now a climate change curator with the Royal Ontario Museum.