#wear your most impractical outfit to work day

[femurs-vectivus]

Swtortober day 8: trooper

I love free character design. Nothing like putting the republics finest into the worst most osha violating outfits imaginable and hearing them say the darndest things in them with a totally straight face.

(i spent almost 3 hours searching for the ugliest outfit i could find and therefore had no more time to actually colour it.)

[girlkisser13]

aphrodite cabin headcanons

a/n: i know that the cabins are in order based on where each olympian sits on the olympian council but i find it funny that aphrodite is #10. get it? because she's a 10. i'll stop. 😔

children of aphrodite

• they're the most diverse cabin at camp.

• they're kind of like a cult.

• mean girls quotes. all day. everyday.

• they have loads of spare clothes that they lend out to new campers that arrive with nothing.

• they actually wear the least amount of makeup out of all the campers because they have the gift of natural beauty.

• they help kids work out their sexualities and make sure they're confident and okay with them.

• they are physically incapable of misgendering people.

• trans aphrodite kids can change their appearance at will.

• they know the basics of every romance language.

• they do couples counseling.

• camp matchmakers.

• they're the camp hairdressers and they also run a secret piercing parlor.

• sucker for romance movies.

• they have the most creative ways of swearing ("you impractical second hand prada bag").

• aphrodite gives them charmed bags that can hold ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING.

• they're particularly fond of sweet foods. like they need a little sweet treat after every meal.

• they keep a running list of the best make out and date spots at camp.

• they're always that person that has a tampon or pad if you need one.

• they're the type of people that will chop off their hair if it doesn't match their outfit.

• the cabin hosts regular beauty and self-care nights, where campers can relax and pamper themselves with facials, manicures, and other treatments.

• they are huge advocates of self love and self care. they do everything in their power to teach every single camper to love themselves.

• they are the most lgbtqia+ supportive cabin, as they are also very diverse in the terms of sexuality: imagine a ton of pansexuals, demisexuals, bisexuals, flirty gays/lesbians, a few aro/ace chilling in the background- everyone is represented.

cabin exterior

• instead of being a life size barbie dreamhouse like it's described in the books, its very subtle, and natural, and soft.

• the outside is pink, but such a pale pink that it looks white unless the right light is hitting it.

• there is natural ivy growing on each wall and onto the roof. It wraps around shutters and the frames of the doors.

• it almost looks like a small manor and like it should have been built on some far off hill that is surrounded by flower fields for miles.

cabin interior

• the inside is very warm and welcoming.

• there are so many pictures, posters, mirrors, and shelves that you can barely see the paint.

• lowkey feels like you're walking into a bath & body works.

• their cabin is filled with scented candles.

• pop music constantly plays in the background and everything in there is expensive as hell.

• their beds are tailored to each camper's exact taste. so it's a bizarre mix of furniture from a fluffy bed with 16 pillows to a bed that looks like it belongs in a prison.

• aphrodite charmed it so that it is bigger on the inside.

• there is a walk-in, expanding, closet where you put old clothes you don't want anymore and other siblings can come and get some new clothes if they need them (other campers are welcome whenever invited. it happens more often than it should).

cabin traditions

• at the beginning of every summer, everyone (if they feel comfortable) gets in front of the rest of the cabin and gives names, pronouns, and sexuality.

• there is an item from every sibling that has lived in the cabin somewhere on the walls. all of the pictures, posters, things on the shelves are placed there by a past sibling.

• there's a hook where, if your jewelry breaks in the cabin, you tie it off and hang it there. there is a necklace made of leather with a hundred year old stone heart on the hook.

divider by @chilumitos

[dollsofthewest]

AG Cowgirl Outfits

Following in the footsteps of @enby-dollhouse and @doll-collecting-aerialist, who did posts on the variety of ballerina and tennis outfits respectively, I wanted to do my take on a section of AG outfits I love: cowgirls! Saddle up and let's head out!

Rootin', Tootin' Cowgirl (1998)

Okay, so maybe this is the outfit that inspired me to do this post in the first place. This is adorable. It's rootin'. It's tootin'. I love the bright blue color. It's advertised as a Halloween costume, but doubles just fine as a fancy rodeo outfit. I do like the idea that you can be the sheriff, or the bandit, or both at the same time! And lest we forget to mention that black cat trick-r-treat bucket!!

Molly's Dude Ranch Outfit (2004)

Is anybody doing it like Miss Molly? This outfit was not connected with any book but released as part of a "Summer Fun" collection. I like to imagine Molly went to a dude ranch near Yellowstone National Park, or maybe somewhere along her Route 66 Adventure. It's cute and pretty authentic to rodeo shows. Also, look at her little canteen!

Nicki's Ranch Outfit (2007)

Most cowgirls don't wear the fancy rodeo costumes like a lot of people think: those are for the shows and fairs! During her daily work, Nicki wears her own pink version of modern jeans, chaps, and boots. And of course her staw hat to protect her from the sun.

Rustic Ranch Outfit (2008)

Another practical outfit; it may look impractical to wear a skirt but I've seen girls who prefer it, if they are riding side-saddle. The vest is kind've plain, but it comes with a horse-themed scrapbook and a (faux) leather Western Hat.

Western Riding Outfit (2010)

Definitely a casual pick for our cowgirl. Fit for farm or school, everybody knows exactly what animal is this American Girl's favorite. Like Nicki, this girl wears a straw hat, but she'll need sunblock if she's going to ride all day with those short sleeves and skirt!

Western Plaid Outfit (2014)

I like to think of this as Abercrombie Horse Girl. I'm not sure how practical that dress is for horse riding, and I'm a bit worried about those loose band around her boots. Still, this girl has something not previously seen, even with Nicki, and that's the very important helmet! Always wear a helmet while horse riding!!

Pretty Pink Riding Outfit (2014)

Sold at the same time as the previous one, so you could choose which outfit you wanted with your life-saving helmet. This girl is wearing what I liked to call Gucci Horse Girl.

Blue-Ribbon Riding Outfit (1998)

I forgot this one so I'm adding it here to show you what I would consider an Ideal Horse Riding outfit. Helmet: check! Proper boots: check! The coat even comes with functional pockets and inner thigh padding. She certainly gets the blue ribbon from me for best dressed!

Maryellen's Cowgirl Outfit (2022)

Ah, a return to classics! This is about as stereotypical "cowgirl" as you can get. As far as I'm aware, this is meant to be her Halloween costume, which tracks with how popular cowgirls & cowboys were during the 1950s. Lookin' cute, Miss Maryellen!

Lila's Horseback Riding Outfit (2024)

I think when Glen Campbell sang "Rhinestone Cowboy" he wasn't talking about this. Still, maybe this is what horse girls these days wear? It's a shame to see a modern girl without a helmet, but you can't deny this fits Miss Lila's style to a tee!

What is your favorite AG cowgirl/horse-riding outfit? What would you like to see made in the future?

[driftward]

Sorry ;)

19) getting turned on by their partner’s new uniform for work and then roleplaying a bit

Don't apologise, I'm delighted. Thank you for the ask, and I appreciate your patience in waiting for an answer. Answer beneath the cut.

(WoL or GA timeline, works in either, maybe in both)

~*~

Y’shtola looked herself carefully in the mirror as she made final adjustments to the glasses she now wore.

In appearance, they were quite plain. A pair of glasses of moderately thick rim, in a classical style. In actuality, they were quite sophisticated, made exactingly for her needs. The lenses were based on a starlens, meant to amplify distant aether, and the frame was so thick for the metals it had to contain, in order to maintain the enchantments that had been worked into it.

They were meant as an aid to Y’shtola’s aethersight. The use of a starlens was Zoissette’s idea, and she had initially made just such a hand lens for Y’shtola to use during their study hours in Nuomenon. The glasses were also Zoissette’s design, meant to help Y’shtola in her latest pursuit. Acting as head archivist for the nascent library that Koana wished to have built in Tural. A personal favor Zoissette had asked, and something to do between stints researching the gate to Alexandria.

She frowned at herself, looking through her new glasses at herself in the mirror, but decided that was the best she was going to manage. She smoothed down the front of her outfit, a simple buttoned up blouse, a skirt that went to her knees, a sensible pair of pumps she could stand in all day, and some stockings. An outfit that was elegant in its simplicity, and one which she could comfortably wear all day while making her way through the stacks. The skirt may have been a bit impractical, but she liked its cut too much to go without. She slipped a cardigan over to complete the look, and wandered back out into the living area.

Zoissette was waiting for her, sitting on the couch, eager to see her.

“How do you like them?”

“I will be able to tell you more after a day or so of using them. For now, I will say, it is as much as you anticipated. Useful for reading and small, fine work. But not good for general use. The view distance of my aethersight is even shallower than before, and everything has a terrible halo around it. I have well grown used to the world as seen through aethersight, but these, well.”

“Well, they are meant for close up work to help you read more than anything. I would advise… not, uhm. Wearing them. Otherwise.”

Y’shtola looked over at Zoissette, and saw the swimmy, starry expanse of her aether, the individual lights that she was shining all the brighter for the faint halos around them. As beautiful as the sight was, especially in the waviness of the rest of what she could see, that did not help her just now, so she lifted the glasses up and focused her aethersight to see the world more like most people did.

And as the colors settled and turned to true, and details came into focus, she saw Zoissette, seated, biting her lip a little, and her eyes a touch too wide open, a touch too focused.

She allowed herself a small little laugh.

“Enjoying the view?”

“…maybe.”

“And here I thought this outfit somewhat conservative.”

“And the glasses.”

“And the glasses? I would have thought their rims rather thick and unwieldy to truly be alluring. Certainly, not as sophisticated as I might like…”

“Right. Yes. Of course.”

Zoissette swallowed, and smiled at her. One of the real smiles. Oh, the things she would do for those rare real smiles.

“Do they not make me appear older?”

“No? Not really? Those ones in specific I think, well. Neither older nor younger. More authoritative, maybe.”

Zoissette had her feet tucked under her, and was gripping the side of her chair. Y’shtola raised an eyebrow, and then, with deliberate slowness, sauntered over.

Zoissette just stared, transfixed. The woman was tall, but seated while Y’shtola was standing gave Y’shtola just the tiniest bit of advantage, Zoissette’s gaze at about her bust line. An advantage which she now fully utilized, as she moved to gently nudge her knee against Zoissette. Zoissette sat back a little, spreading her knees apart, enough for Y’shtola to lean forward, and plant her knee on the seat.

“Maybe you could, uhm, help me look-” said Zoissette, who finally actually looked up to meet Y’shtola’s eyes, “- something up.”

“Oh?” said Y’shtola, her tail swishing back and forth behind her. She arched her back a little, to press her chest forward prominently, and she angled her head to look down her nose at Zoissette, whose face was beginning to turn quite red. More importantly, so were the tips of her ears, a sure and familiar tell.  “And I suppose my eager little student would like to review the pertinent appendices?”

Zoissette bit her lip, trying not to laugh, and rocked back and forth in the chair a bit. “Well, I thought about maybe spending some time in the stacks. I hear the selection here is extremely well rounded, and I would love to delve in.”

They held their gaze for a moment, and then, Zoissette broke, looking down, tittering slightly. “Sorry. Sorry. This is very silly. I feel very silly. That outfit is really -”

She stopped as Y’shtola grabbed her jaw with one hand, fingers and thumbs pressing on her cheeks, making her mouth pucker just a little. She pulled her face back up, Zoissette going willingly with the motion, until their gazes locked one more.

Y’shtola narrowed her eyes. Still looking down her nose. She tilted her head just the tiniest bit, as though intrigued by this specimen that had wandered into her ‘library’. And then she rolled her head back and forth slowly, as though inspecting said specimen, carefully looking it over. And as she did so, Zoissette began to fidget. Her hands still gripping the sides of her seat, even as she drummed her fingers. Her breathing becoming shallow. Her mouth beginning to tremble, Y’shtola feeling the vibration in her fingers. Her ears turning redder.

And still, Y’shtola was implacable. Just watching. She reached up with her other hand, and lowered her glasses. She would lose much, in the shift in sight, but it was worth it. Worth it to feel the shift in Zoissette as she did so. As she primly adjusted them onto her face. As she lowered her head, bringing her nose almost to Zoissette’s. As she moved her body closer. As she leaned against Zoissette, feeling her own heat reflected off Zoissette’s body mixed with the warmth Zoissette herself brought to the equation.

Once her glasses were settled the way she liked, she examined Zoissette again. Her aether, swimmy, waves of stars in an ocean of blue so deep it was almost black. Ripples and waves of who Zoissette was and all of her might and destinies.

She still held Zoissette’s jaw in her hand, though she relaxed it, just a bit. She did not want to harm Zoissette, did not want the press of her fingers to begin to ache. Just to remind her where she should be looking and who was in control here.

With her other hand, she reached up, slowly, and delicately took an ear between finger and thumb, and lightly drew along its edge, pinching every so slightly. Like running a thread through her fingers. Her vision may not have been clear or detailed, but her sense of touch was more than present, and she could feel Zoissette tremble against her body.

Slowly, she tilted her head, past Zoissette’s field of view, still holding on. As her hand trailed down from ear to neck to collarbone, from collarbone to swell of breast, from swell of breast to the firmness of stomach, she touched her lips to Zoissette’s ear, and ran her tongue slowly along them.

And she purred as Zoissette sucked in her breath.

She let go, now, and Zoissette tilted her head to the side, looking up, making more space for Y’shtola. Y’shtola resettled a bit, shifting around to get more comfortable. One hand against Zoissette’s side, to hold herself steady. Just a little bit of separation of their bodies, for just long enough for another hand to find the inside of the waistband of Zoissette’s pants, to explore further downward. One foot still on the ground, helping her hold her own weight and so she could move around as she pleased. And the knee that was on the seat slipped off, now, to lean against the front of the chair, arched foot touching toes to ground. She stuck her butt out a little further, her tail now curled back upon her, swaying in the air.

And the entire time, Zoissette’s breath had been quick, unsteady. She only attempted to lift her hands from the edge of the seat once, but a swat and she put them back, immediately understanding her part, role, and place in all this.

Steady once more, Y’shtola moved one hand to be on top of one of Zoissette’s hands, fingers on the outside of tight knuckles, and she leaned back just a little to look at Zoissette’s face once more.

“Now tell me,” she crooned. “What brings you here?” and as she said that, she slid two fingers in between Zoissette’s folds.

Zoissette spasmed, and threw back her head, and cried out. Y’shtola was quick on her, her free hand now back on Zoissette’s jaw, shifting her weight so she could stand.

“Behave,” she said. “We must maintain a certain level of decorum, should we not? Inside voice, if you please.”

Zoissette just sort-of nodded against Y’shtola’s hand, and whimpered.

“Good girl,” said Y’shtola, letting go, and she bent over to run a tongue along Zoissette’s ear while her fingers explored, finding Zoissette delightfully wet. Fingers slid up and down her slit, and she could feel the nub of Zoissette’s clit. A light touch of teeth to skin made Zoissette choke a gasp. The rubbing of two fingers on either side of her clit made her whimper, curling on herself, going tight to try to control herself, to not make a noise.

Well, not make too much noise. Her breathing was quite loud, and there was definitely a ‘nnnnnngh’ escaping from her.

Y’shtola continued, with an almost casualness to her. She pulled back from her ear, and leaned against her once more. She moved to be more on Zoissette’s side now, rather than in front of her, allowing herself easier movement inside of Zoissette’s smalls under her pants. Allowing her to look from head to toe, able to see the tension in the currents that were the aether that made up Zoissette. Able to reach with her other hand where she liked, and where she liked was Zoissette’s breast, kneading it with her fingers through Zoissette’s top.

“You are not very articulate,” she said. “Have I found what you were looking for?”

“Y-y-yes,” said Zoissette, her voice strained.

“Are you certain?” asked Y’shtola. “I might check elsewhere, if you remain unsatisfied.”

“N-no. I am - I am good.”

“Breath.”

Zoissette rocked back and forth in the chair, taking several deep gulping breaths. Y’shtola smiled wickedly to herself, as she placed a hand on Zoissette’s shoulder, and leaned close to an ear once more.

“And now,” she said, and she leaned, leaned forward, leaned in, and really bore down, her fingers alight, with carefully timed movement and lots of pressure.

Zoissette cried out, and as she did so, Y’shtola stuck her hand full in her mouth.

“Quiet in the library,” she said, cooly, calmly, as she continued her ministrations. Zoissette nodded dumbly, even as she whimpered against Y’shtola’s hand, drooling slightly. Her eyes clenched shut, and began to water from the exertion, from the effort, of trying to hold in, trying to hold back.

It was no use. Y’shtola well knew what she was doing now, and Zoissette’s body bucked. She bit down, hard, and Y’shtola resisted the urge to yelp herself. She had put herself at such risk, and she knew it. However, even her throes, Zoissette still had enough control to not fully bear down. And so she kept her hand in Zoissette’s mouth, letting her ride out the wave of her first orgasm.

“Breath,” she admonished again, and Zoissette nodded, before reaching up a hand and desperately tapping at Y’shtola’s arm.

Y’shtola pulled back immediately, retrieving her hand from Zoissette’s smalls and pulling her hand out of her mouth. Zoissette gasped, and pushed herself forward out of the chair, and fell to the floor on hands and knees, breathing hard.

“Oh gods. Oh Fury.”

“Are you alright?” said Y’shtola, mildly concerned, crouching next to her.

“Gods swive hells yes. That was intense. Oh hells. My stomach hurts from tensing. I just - I just need a moment. I just…”

Y’shtola nodded, and took off her glasses. She wanted to be able to see, now, and her more normal aethersight returned to her. She wrapped an arm around Zoissette, and rubbed her back as the woman continued to take several deep breaths, trembling.

“I think,” Zoissette said at last, “We have ruined my smalls.”

Y’shtola laughed.

“Oh gods you are a demon with your voice. I am going to be hearing that in my dreams.”

“Sweet ones, I hope.”

“Damning ones.”

Zoissette let herself down the rest of the way to the floor, and rolled over to her side, stopping to look at Y’shtola with open adoration, before rolling onto her back, her breathing still heavy.

“Are you certain you are quite alright? Normally we can go for quite longer.”

“Just intense. Also I do not think the chair agreed with me.”

“Duly noted.”

Zoissette stayed where she was, and Y’shtola settled into sit next to her, picking up a hand to hold it.

“So do I get to stay in the library, or…?” asked Zoissette, and Y’shtola laughed.

[the-real-sasuke-uchiha]

Hello, Sasuke (:

I'm glad you brought up the topic of your outfits. Listen, you're great and very stylish and I know you don't care about criticism. But I will never understand that thing you wore against Gaara in the Chunin Exams. I know it's a fan favourite, but I've always thought that outfit was awful lol.

Cloaks, on the other hand, really suit you, I think. That's why I don't mind the design of your adult version too much (or the imposter, as you call him, idk what's real anymore). How many cloaks do you have?

I've also been thinking that I haven't seen you wearing much jewelry. If I recall correctly, you wore some necklaces in one of the movies. Do you find jewelry impractical, or is there another reason for not wearing it?

Same thing with sleeveless shirts. You only wore one in your fight against Itachi, I think? :/ You're probably tired of hearing this, but you have beautiful arms. Short sleeves and sleeveless shirts look really nice on you.

Anyways, whatever you wear, you've always made it work for you with grace and elegance. That's the most important thing, I believe. Just wanted to share some thoughts :P

Have a nice day!!

WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON'T LIKE THIS EPIC OUTFIT

Omg anon, you know how comfortable this is when your job involves a lot of jumping and kicking and twirling? This is great for doing all kind of movements without fear of losing your pants in the process! Toilet needs management is another thing, of course, and later with the curse mark and everything this was not convenient anymore. But I think this onesie was phenomenal, but look at it! So original!

I do like cloaks. And ponchos. Not sure how many I have, maybe a dozen. They do look nice on me, right?

You know what I don't like? Cloaks or sweaters that fit tight to the neck. THIS is a no-no:

In my clan we wear things like this:

And I can't stand clothes rubbing my neck, it irritates my skin. It is infuriating and it causes me overwhelming anxiety. See, another clue that that bootlicker is an imposter. I don't like clothes tight to my neck, I never wore turtleneck clothing!

I guess jewellery kind of gets in the way, yeah, no other special reason. And thank you, I know sleeveless clothes look fantastic on me. I mean, look, who else could be this pretty wearing this? I should wear them more often, you are totally right!

(turtle neck here was just two seconds to pose for the picture, don't get fooled!)

You are so kind, anon, I am glad you like my style :D I don't really dress to impress, but I do have good taste, why deny it!

Have a great day you too and take care, dear anon!

[babybammargera]

You're supposed to be rivals Pt.2

Bf bam x fem skater gf

(this is the vibe i imagine)

Somehow you've managed to drag Bam out of bed early so he can go with you to the promo shoot your manager is insisting on. You had April help you with your hair first, now your boyfriend is sitting on the bathroom counter watching you do your makeup as if it's the most interesting thing he's ever seen. “Babe I feel like I don't tell you this enough but you're so hot.” You lean over to kiss him leaving him with bright red lipstick that you wipe off with the sleeve of your sweatshirt before he forgets “I've gotta get dressed and you need to fix your bed head before we leave.” He looks in the mirror before following you back into his bedroom, “Well if you didn't want my hair to be this messy you wouldn't have your hands tangled in it for hours every night.” You roll your eyes and start to get dressed, “Keep it up Margera and that won't happen again for a while.” He steals a kiss and actually starts to get ready himself, “Okay okay no need to make threats, especially when I have to look at you like this all day.” You smile and pull on a pair of socks not wanting to have to wear heels the whole way to the shoot, “Thankfully I have skate shoes in your car. This is really impractical like who's gonna skate dressed like this?” You shrug grabbing your nice heels and he grabs his keys and guides you out of the room, “impractical but hot.” The two of you get in his car and head to the shoot, as he parks the car you touch up your makeup in the rearview mirror and can feel his pretty blue eyes burning holes into you, “Bammy you’re staring more than usual.” He smiles and looks over his sunglasses at you, “I can’t help it babe, I mean you’re always hot and this is different.” You roll your eyes taking off your socks and replace them with the tall black heels, “Just don’t get too used to it babe this is wayyy too much effort to be a common occurrence.” You pull him into a quick kiss then climb out of the car, he rushes to your side like a puppy still eyeing you up and down as he slips his hand into yours. Your manager rolls his eyes the moment he spots you and rushes over, “About time you got here come on!” Adjusting your bodysuit you make a face behind his back as you follow him to the skate ramps, “this whole thing was your idea so don’t complain it took so long for me to get ready. I’m here, I look hot let’s do this.” You’re rushed onto the makeshift set and handed a skateboard to pose with, the photographer hyping you up as Bam stands next to her grinning with his eyes glued to you the entire time and not so sneakily taking pictures on his phone as well. Once she shoot is over you sigh and sit down on one of the boards and kick off your heels, Bam strides over with your socks and your “emergency”pair of DCs (skate shoes) from his car, “we could go home and have a real skate sesh on the ramps if you want but my one request is that you keep the outfit on for a while.” You smile and he helps you up after you put your shoes on, “I think I can work with that.” As you kiss him your manager walks up with his arms full of boards, “ before you even say anything I don’t care about you two just don’t let it affect your skating and remember on completion days you two hate each other from the moment you enter the event until you skate, understood?” Bam tries to pretend he’s listening but you know he’s not. You nod at your manager and he pushes the 5 boards into Bam’s arms, “These are yours, you’re free to go home and be out of my hair for the day.” Bam cracks up a bit and mumbles, “you mean lack of hair.” Your manager shoots him a look, “you said something?” You both stifle laughter and turn towards where he parked. As soon as you get to the car you punch his arm, “Really Bam.” His smile matches yours and he tosses the boards into the back seat, “What? I’m not wrong, Dico has more hair than that guy!”

[ladyryukyo]

Hello, I hope work is going ok

Haha, I also hope this is somewhat coherent, but I am very bad at assembling my thoughts into something that resembles a narative, but here are some thoughts that has been carouseling my mind:

Recently, I have been thinking abou beyblade fantasy AU's: A grant adventure, a world fractured into many fighting factions (some human, some elven, some with magic powers and so on), soon to be overshadowed by The Great Dark Lord Nemesis™️

The legendary bladers are propheciesed to save the world, and as of now most of them traveling together on some great mission to raise an army to defeat Nemesis or smth (everyone except Ryuga? Have a very hard time imagining him going anywhere with anyone). However the legendary bladers are NOT a cohesive unit, they are from different factions and have a hard time trusting each other 😔 </3

Along with this, I've been thinking a lot about armor: how to make it functional and actually protective, while still evoking the feel of the bladers original outfit... (ok actually I've mostly I have been thinking about how to make armor, that looks like a crop top with a big billowy coat for Kyoya, but at the same time actually protect his vital organs)

My solution for now is probably layering some chain mail under some cut up shirts, but then I ran into my second problem: that much armor is heavy, noisy and warm (since you'd also need layers beneath the chain mail), would an adventurer even wear that much armor on a day to day basis?... So now I am trying to come with a way to balance that out... (Actually after writing it down tho, Kyoya specifically would absolutely see wearing heavy armor as a great training exercise...)

Also bc Kyoya gets special treatment as my favorite character, and I think he could use more "great-destiny-I-didn't-pick-and-thus-don't-want" issues: Mayhap his mother is the heiress to one faction, but she was driven away by an usurper, who is now out to kill her and her descendents? (No scars from *accidently* falling windows in this AU)... (Also maybe the usurper is paying Chris to take care of her descendents?)

Aaaahhh anyways thanks for reading all of my ramblings <3

henning i can always count on you tysm for sharing your ramblings w me <33

fantasy au my beloved!! the idea of the legendary bladers roaming around the lands and trying to rally an army while constantly bickering with each other is so funny. i have to agree that ryuga probably wouldn't travel with them but! imagine the kenta & ryuga interactions in this scenario :(( kenta tries to learn magic from ryuga who is so so good at it but unwilling (and without the patience lbh) to teach. kenta just stares at him really hard and tries to learn by observing ryuga do impossible feats of magic. ryuga acts annoyed but he also loves the attention lol

plsss kyoya in fantasy armor is simply amazing and badass. id love to see it. i know its impractical but i do imagine him in a chainmail crop top or something similarly unnecessary but stylish. anything for the glam. could also imagine some kind of corset top-like leather armor? i think leather armor would be the go-to for adventurers anyway.

kyoya is the perfect protagonist for a "refusal of the call" trope lmao. it would be a "fuck this, im gonna do my own thing" situation with him. every. time. "i don't care that you're a god or fate or whatever and you can't tell me what to do."

d-did you just make kyoya/chris possible in this au?? FJFDHSSJS maybe it's just my permanent brainrot for this ship but! chris keeps failing to assassinate kyoya but he's come close a couple of times and also kyoya's scars being a result of one of chris' assassination attempts and also they know each other by now after all this time and they probably keep bickering while trying to kill each other which is so unprofessional but it's almost like they're friends and do they really actually truly want to harm each other at all at this point?

... im blaming you for this tangent lol thank you henning i truly appreciate this <3 love you

[pearlsofthec]

In the most lavish and descriptive terms possible, what is your style?

I can’t promise you a lavish description, but I can give you an honest one. Recently, my approach to dressing up (or even dressing down) has been, “Would a 21st-century Persephone wear this?” I’ve tried to encapsulate my style in many boxes before: preppy, girly, bohemian, minimal chic, 2010s Parisian. But at the end of the day, I feel like it’s a mixture of all those things, and having Persephone as my “muse” works.

I’m certain it’s the fact that she doesn’t have a defined image that makes it work so well. When you’re dealing with your average style muse, it’s easy to lose yourself trying to copy them exactly. I love feeling free in what I wear, and that doesn’t mean I like to dress comfortably. I am actually very impractical when it comes to clothing, but I love feeling like a nymph transported into modernity, feminine but with a whimsical flair.

I was lucky enough to be born in a country where it is rarely cold, which means for most of my life, I never wore pants, which my friends still recall to this day. Nowadays, I don’t really have that option anymore, and when I do have to wear pants, I prefer to stick to jeans. I’ve learned to appreciate them over time for the quasi-Western, but undeniably 70s quality they can bring to an outfit (I love a good old mid/low rise bootcut).

Mundanity isn’t an excuse for sloppiness, and simplicity isn’t the same as being uncharacteristic in my book. So, when I’m doing my ordinary chores, going to university, and whatnot, I wear “uniforms” that may be simple and basic, but are still very much me. Even so, I never sacrifice the sense of Neptunian romanticism, which I think I exude even in my rawest states. And aren’t occasions like these, when you come undone, when you truly test the solidity of your own presentation? The key to dressing well is dancing to The Mamas and Papas while doing so. If I feel like I’m floating, I know I’m on the right track.

I’m a Sprite in spirit!

[spectralstitions]

I thought it would be fun to show off the result of FOUR (4) ENTIRE YEARS OF DESIGN PROGRESS!!! The first design was made in March of 2020, the second in May of 2024! Even though he looks completely different now, he's gotten so much closer to my vision. I guess that's some form of design improvement!

Silas has always been a difficult character for me to design. I created him a few days after creating Finlay for the purpose of giving Fin some kind of companion to play off of. But I think because of that I never really figured out what to DO with his character. His personality has always remained about the same, but what about his ambitions??? his goals in life?? He wasn't much more than an accessory to Finlay, and none of the ideas I came up with stuck around for very long.

For most of the time I've had him, he was a runaway prince, which I eventually scrapped because, although I thought the romantic aesthetic of that was very fitting, it was just creating problems with the worldbuilding and I really had zero interest in exploring any of its practical implications. For a little while he was an astronomer and/or astrologer, and even though it made sense for his star theme, I dropped that too because honestly I just had zero fun learning about that stuff in order to write him. The prince thing evolved into him being some kind of chosen one character who didn't really care about his destiny, but that was quickly scrapped as well because, well, I just think chosen one stories are boring.

So, yeah, I was really stuck on his character for a long time, which is why I stopped drawing him for so long. UNTIL NOW! Earlier this year, I realized I could use the fact that I didn't know what to do with him. I did some reflecting and realized I would be INCREDIBLY interested in exploring the effect that a relationship like his with Finlay has on a person: when you center all your hopes and dreams on one person and nothing else. Realizing it's not working for you anymore, but being unable to admit it because it'd be like throwing your entire life away -- but you're miserable going on without addressing it. So here he is, finally: a naive and lonely guy with a romantic worldview, who gives up his current life for the promise of a more fun and fulfilling one, courtesy of his first love. 'Course, things don't exactly work out in the fairytale way he was hoping for. His arc is about a lot of things, but much of it has to do with him figuring out his place in the world. Very coming of age vibes, even if he's probably a late bloomer in that regard, much like me haha.

Although he isn't a prince anymore, I've always envisioned him with somewhat regal looking clothes, so I incorporated that into the worldbuilding of his people. Or, well, the forestblood, anyways. They've got a gothic aesthetic that I love leaning into, but in a regal, delicate way, with inspiration from various goth design tropes translated through my particular fantasy lens.

Another thing he's lost over the years is his star theming - sort of. This is yet another point that I actually put into the worldbuilding. So instead of his design emphasizing stars, now it's his backstory. (which has to do with the section about the desert I wrote in this post!) Seeing the stars again is more of a goal now that represents his yearning.

A lot about his current outfit is meant to reflect his naivety, romanticism, and his interest in adventuring. He's got elements that pull from ideas of adventurer clothes, but with extra flourishes and some impracticalities. For example, wearing a long cloak with tassels isn't the most practical thing for navigating dense woodland, and neither is an ornamental knife. But he just sees a cloak and a knife, the kinds of things travelers have got in stories (and lord knows Finlay embellishes his stories).

Another thing about his shadowy cloak (and his overall color palette being relatively monochrome) is that it symbolically reflects who he is in regards to his relationship. If you're a Crane Wives fan, you could say he bore the shadows that Fin made with no light of his own :P

Across all my ocs, I've also made it a goal to simplify their color palettes as much as possible. I don't want my color palettes to include any colors that are only slightly different from some other color on the palette. The only exception to this rule is for eye color, since I think a slight difference like that helps to draw the viewer's eye to the face, which is important. This is something I used on Silas, actually! He's just a great example of everything, isn't he!

It's been really fun seeing the evolution of my ocs' design elements as I accumulate a better design vocabulary, especially with the outfits. Silas has nearly always had a cloak, gloves, and some kind of tassel and clasp situation. Intuitively, I knew these elements needed to be there in order for him to feel like Silas, but they never felt quite right the way I incorporated them -- UNTIL NOW!!!!!

His asymmetrical, fancifully clasped cloak and top are in line with the worldbuilding. Horned and antlered raswa wear them to emphasize their (very loose equivalent of) masculinity. His "gloves" are now an extension of his top, meaning I no longer have to worry about creating contrast between the gloves and his shirt and his cloak while making all three darker than his skin. Also, instead of the dark part on his legs being boots, now they're his darker colored fur and hooves, and instead of those vaguely defined pants he's got leg wraps and puffy shorts with specific textures. He's been streamlined, specified, and made more cohesive! I'm very happy with the result!!

[i-hold-horrors-hand]

Domestic December: Borrowing Clothes, Waiting in Line

Mary wants to raid his girlfriend's closet for a new outfit to wear to a show. She's happy to help. (Of course, then they have to wait in line...)

Written for Domestic December by @comp-lady. Used a Day 3 prompt and a Day 4 prompt.

(Can also be read here.)

"What about this?"

"Nah. Too lacy."

Allie set aside the dress, which was indeed very lacy for a guy like Mary, she had to admit. "Alright," she said, "No lace. What were you thinking, exactly?"

"How much leather have you got in there?"

"Well..." Allie touched a fingertip to her chin in thought. "I do have leather pants. But I don't think they'd fit you."

"Why not?"

"Because they're made for a different type of crotch."

"Right, right." Mary nodded. "No room for the dick."

"Right. And my ass is rounder."

"What?" Mary frowned. "No it's not!" He turned this way and that in front of the mirror, studying his own (quite lovely, Allie had to admit) behind, then sighed in defeat. "Hmm...alright. You have a point."

Allie smiled slightly and nodded.

"So, what else have you got?"

"Let's see." Allie walked back into her closet, rummaging around through the various boxes, drawers, organizers, and hangers. Surely there was something in there that would fit Mary. Though their body shapes were slightly different, they were still roughly the same size for most things.

"Hmm...aha!"

After a few more minutes of searching, Allie had finally found a few things that would (probably) be suitable for Mary. Pulling both items out of their respective drawers, she marched out of her closet triumphantly, one item in each hand.

"How about these?"

Mary looked up from the pile of discarded clothes he'd been absentmindedly examining—all things that hadn't fit either his body, or his style, or both—and smiled.

"I can work with those."

"Good." Allie tossed both items, one leather underbust corset and a pleated skirt (both of them black), to Mary, who eagerly caught them.

"Now, for the rest of your outfit." Allie turned back to the closet, and put her hands on her hips. "I think I think still have those thigh-high boots that Brenda sent me...they're too big for me, but they should fit you."

"Cool," said Mary, already shimmying out of his skinny jeans and into the skirt. "Got a jacket, too? My nips might get cold."

"I should."

‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗

"My feet hurt. Why are we here, again?"

Allie shrugged. "You wanted to come here."

"Right..." Mary folded his arms, and adjusted his stance again, clearly (and understandably) uncomfortable after standing in line for the better part of two hours while wearing his new thigh-high boots.

"My feet hurt."

"You said that already."

Mary whined, and Allie rolled her eyes.

"Look, you're the one who said you didn't want to wear your combat boots. You wanted to wear something of mine. Well, you are. You got exactly what you asked for."

Mary looked her up and down for a moment, as though he were considering saying something to that, but apparently thought better of it, and chose to grumble wordlessly instead.

Allie rolled her eyes again, and let out an inaudible huff of a laugh. What, like it was her fault that her boyfriend had wanted to raid her closet? And had chosen the most impractical things to wear? Instead of picking out something more comfortable, like she had? (Leather pants, lace-trimmed long-sleeved crop top, and thick-heeled ankle boots, for the style record).

It wasn't her fault that he was currently regretting his decision.

They stood there in line for another ten or fifteen minutes, silently.

Allie folded her arms, wondering when the hell the line was going to move again. Mary adjusted the lapels of his borrowed leather blazer, needing to do something with his hands, impatient and still clearly uncomfortable.

Another five minutes went by, then Mary whined again.

Allie sighed, rolled her eyes, and turned to face Mary. "Come here, you big baby." She crouched down, scooped him up in her arms, and held him bridal-style.

Mary blinked in surprise, apparently having momentarily forgotten just how strong his girlfriend truly was, then grinned. "My feet thank you." He kissed her on the cheek. "How the hell do you even walk in these shoes, anyway? The heels are practically fuckin' microscopic!"

"Shut up," Allie said, successfully silencing Mary with a kiss. "Who is this guy, anyway? You said you really wanted to see his show."

"Some singing vampire. Looks like Dracula."

"Cool. Well, hope his show will be worth your feet hurting for the rest of the night."

Mary snorted. "Yeah, it fuckin' better be!"

[quanjewelry]

Tips And Ideas For Every Jewelry Lover

It is necessary to have a deep understanding of jewelry in order to buy or sell it. There is so much to learn, it can be hard to decide where to start.

When choosing your wedding band set, keep in mind the jewelry you already own and regularly wear. A yellow gold wedding band isn't the best choice if most of the jewelry you already own is white gold or silver. You will most likely be wearing your wedding band every day. Make sure it's not only something you like, but something that matches what you already own.

IF you're thinking of buying your child jewelry, a charm bracelet is an excellent way to go. Add a new charm at every milestone, such as his or her first lost tooth. When your child grows up, he or she will have a special story that is attached with each charm.

Take your face shape into account, when choosing jewelry. A round face looks best with jewelry that features vertical lines and strong angles. Jewelry with curves softens the strong angles of a rectangular face. A heart-shaped face is flattered by jewelry that creates width at the chin. An oval face can wear any style jewelry.

Make sure your jewelry matches at least a few of your outfits. You do not want to purchase pieces that you can only wear for very special events, as that may be impractical. Finding simple and elegant pieces that match several outfits is not as difficult as it sounds, and you will probably enjoy the search!

To help you clean and maintain your jewelry in top condition, remember to polish your gold and silver with a jewelry polishing cloth. Alternatives, such as a regular cloth or paper towel, have the potential to damage your gold or silver because they are not gentle enough for these delicate precious metals.

To get a stubborn knot out of a necklace chain, sprinkle the knot with cornstarch or baby powder. The powder slips into each nook and cranny, lubricating the metal and making it much easier to untie the knot with your fingers. If the knot is particularly difficult, you may need to use a sewing needle to help.

When it comes to choosing the perfect wedding or engagement ring, it is important to be able to pay for it with cash. Sure, nothing says love like a great ring, but you do not want to put yourself in debt or end up paying overwhelming amounts of interest for it. It is the thought that counts for most.

Understanding the different cuts of a diamond will make your jewelry purchase much easier. The cut of a diamond refers to the actual cut of the diamond, not the shape of the diamond. The cut is extremely important when making a diamond jewelry purchase because it determines the brilliance and the overall sparkle factor associated with the item.

You should always be aware of how much acid is contained in your body since it can affect the life of your jewelry. If you have a large amount of acid in your body, it can make your jewelry turn black, and it will look like it is worthless when it isn't.

If you are purchasing jewelry as a gift try to be sneaky. Use a friend, or snoop around when they aren't looking to find their jewelry size. You wouldn't want to spend all the time and effort on jewelry for that person and then come to find out it doesn't even fit them.

Through work, effort, and research you can be a success at buying and selling jewelry. This article has provided you with important techniques to ensure your success.

[safyavas]

Safiye was beginning to feel guilty, mostly due to the fact that she had already begun to put Ruairi under a microscope. While it had been completely unintentional, it had also been that sometimes these practices were necessary—especially when dealing with assessing patients' mental health and wellness. "Oh, I'm okay but thank you!" she declined politely. His deep inhalation of breath and draping of his face with his hand had not gone missed but she figured she'd fare better in building rapport if she didn't immediately scribble in a notebook or chart. "This is great!" she exclaimed, taking the initiative to walk over to where he had gestured toward. "I'm gonna take your vitals, have a listen–" Safiye lifted her stethoscope in her hands. "–ask you more boring questions, and then we'll get into it," she explained before proceeding with her little mental checklist.

"Great! Now that, that's all out of the way– I know you wanted to talk about anxiety. Have you been able to identify when it happens, or what causes it? Could you describe what happens when you feel an influx of anxiety?" she asked innocently, trying to mirror his body language as best she could given the impractical outfit she had decided to wear to work on this day. "—it's okay if you don't know, by the way," she added shortly after, "I find talk therapy to be the most helpful for me, but everyone's different. I'm not a therapist but I'm always happy to listen." She had hoped her honesty might warrant some from Ruairi as well, and then maybe they could be in the step toward the right direction for his treatment.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐆: @ruairimacarthy

"The one and only," Ruairi replied before he allowed himself even a moment to reconsider. He'd fret himself to death about it later, he reasoned, when he had some time alone to scream internally about what an idiot his lack of impulse control seemed to want to make of him most days. "Er, well, in this case I am, aye. Uh, you need my birthday as well, you said? Twenty-seventh December nineteen ninety-four. Did you want uh, a water or something?" He forced himself to take one long, slow breath― she was here to help him, she was aware that he was having trouble with his anxiety and she was only doing her job. There was no reason for him to be quite so nervous― not unless he counted the fact that going to the doctor had always made him vaguely uncomfortable― his brother's scares with his heart condition might've contributed to that but that was neither here nor there. He ran a hand over his face and scrubbed roughly at his eyes― hoping the motion would do at least a bit to wake him up; he cracked an eye open to look at her again and motioned towards the kitchen table. "Is this alright for whatever we need to do?"

@safaksoy

[witchlyboo]

Definitely, maybe.

Part five: The one who belongs to someone else.

Introduction. Part one. Part two. Part three. Part four.

Paring: Latina!reader x Logan Lerman x Tom Holland x Ben Hardy x Timothee Chalamet x Pedro Pascal x Michael B. Jordan

Warnings: Swearing, angst, misspellings, some Spanish, me learning how to write properly, and NY stuff that I've learned from movies that we all agree to pretend are real.

Word count: 6.4 k

a/n: You been asking for smut, I know, I know, I just wanted to introduce you to all the boys first, and we're getting there, just one more ahead. Also, I'm working on a masterlist because we are getting too many parts already.

All body types and skin tones friendly. You can also enjoy it as a no Hispanic reader. Constructive feedback and misspellings correction is always welcome.

Red and blue lights flash the driving mirror.

—No, no, no, por favor que no sea a mi—You beg to the sky looking at the patrol that is asking you to park, or someone else, there's a lot of cars in this part of the city, there's a big chance is the panic who's controlling your senses.—Dios, mi abuela fue a la iglesia cada domingo de su vida y nunca te pidió nada, please let me have some of her divina recompensa.—But that's not how it works, you end up parking with just a few seconds to think what to say. There's a perfect explication of why you are driving a car that is not yours in the middle of the night and smelling like a minibar.

Then this ridiculous thought comes to your mind, you look expensive, you've never seen the daughter of a senator but you must be close to it, it would make you less of a feminist if you just use your attributes? Ugh, you feel sick just to think about it but don't have enough money to pay a fine, and the constant paranoia of being chased all the time as an immigrant will only get stronger.

You pull down your dress a little so your neckline can do its job but you regret it immediately, and you're pretty sure you look more like an expensive prostitute who stole the car of his lover than some influential men's daughter.

—License and registration.—You hear him say when he approaches your window. You don't like this but you have to play the dumb tourist, the pretty foreign girl that is too stupid to be dangerous, with the look you have tonight it shouldn't be hard. But damn you hate cops, any uniformed man that works for the government is your eternal enemy, and you don't know how long you could keep the nice dumb Latina game before spit on his face.

—There's something wrong, officer? ...You?!—Your sexy and fake high voice is ruined when you see the face of the man who stopped you. This night couldn't get worse.

—Wait, what happened with the party?—Evan interrupts you while you finish some notes for work, little remainders for later when you don't have an eleven years old kid running around you, he's not usually this energic and you have to blame yourself for that, you're describing a life of excess and eccentric fun, something you let behind so many years ago that your own son doesn't know even a bit of it.

—Ugh, a nightmare doesn't worth telling.—You remember vaguely most of it but what keeps fresh in your mind is bad enough to don't want to bring it back.

—But if Timothée is my dad I have to know the important things, including the bad stuff.—Sounds perfectly reasonable and that's what makes you groan at him. Sometimes you feel blessed that your kid is better than you in any possible way, and sometimes you want to kill his brain with video games and reality shows like the rest of the parents.

—Ok, cool, but I'll keep all the +18 content for myself, so this part of the story might be blurry for you.—It kinda is for you anyway.

You should’ve known this night was cursed, you had a feeling because a) your earring fell off at the same time Timothée texted you to give you the party address and say he can't pick you up. And b) he won’t pick you up. Your mother would say that’s reason enough to not go, a real gentleman wouldn’t make you go to an unknown place in the middle of the night on your own in a city like this. But you decide to ignore it because you are a modern woman and because it’s worth it. It better be.

The outfit must be something special. You always take your time to choose what to wear, even if just another regular day, and since this isn't the case you thought about it for hours, that made your mind busy enough to not thinking about Tom and the whole love confession. He texted you saying he'll come for you to go to class together on Monday, which is completely impractical because he's way closer than you but is progress and you're going to take it.

You wanted to ask for Sheep's opinion but you thought she might not care, has been a few days since she started acting strange like she's bothered just to see you breathe. You want to blame his boyfriend to take all her time and attention from you but is probably just her new job, she got a small role in a Netflix show, and even when you're so happy for her, that's the event that has changed her into someone completely different. But you give her time, stress can do bad things to people.

The winner is the exact copy you made of the black and white striped dress Cameron Diaz wore in "The Mask" beautiful, classy, and sexy enough without being too scandalous, not that you have any problem with that, but this isn't the occasion, you don't want to feel like you're being too much or too little, just enough, it's supposed to be easy, right? you were born for this. Just adding some big shiny earrings you got on a thrift shop that look like real diamonds and you're ready, not that you own any to compare. Red lipstick, dark eyes, and a messy bun to get that disinterested pitch every look needs.

Getting there wasn't a problem, you were in the rich part of the city, everyone know who, where and what just to brag about it. The excitement is growing with every second, you check your makeup like thirty times in the elevator and send texts to your mom just to let her know where you are, and because you have to share that moment with someone and you are limited of friends these days.

Timothée opens the door with red eyes, drunk, high, or somewhere in between, you know then you were right about the bad feeling. He jumps on you to kiss you and no matter how much you try to explain the delicacy of your lipstick, he does it anyway, leaving a taste of alcohol and shrimps in your mouth. Taking you by the waist he walks you to a group of people you don't know while you're trying harder to fix the red color of your mouth without a mirror.

—Here is the companion I bought, look at her, that's how five grand per hour look like.—They laughed but you were too disoriented to process all the things he said, it was supposed to be a joke? if it is, why isn't he correcting? Instead, his hand goes straight to your ass and presses it to get you closer to him.

—I'm actually an intern in the costume designer department of the new version of "Sense and Sensibility".—You wanted to mention your recent promotion to hairstylist and makeup artist but that might be too pretentious. Anyway, they don't seem to care what you are or not, in fact, they don't even see you, all eyes are on Timothée

—Oh, well, is easy to forget when you're paying them—All laughs again. Who is this person? Who are all these people, actually? You recognize some influencers, a few cast members but there's no sign of the director, other main actors, not even his co-star. You feel like an extra in a movie where someone will be killed in a luxury party, hopefully not you. You take his hand from your body and clear your throat.—I'm just joking my love, she looks stunning, isn't she? I’ll get you a drink.

He leaves and the group of people surrounding you suddenly dissipated like boiling water, you were on your own again and despite some judgmental gazes is like you’re not there, you’re sure you could just take your dress off and throw it to someone’s face and unless Tim says something about it, no one would care. You’re there as his companion, an ornament, and that’s not enough to earn their attention because it’s too obvious you’re the one in turn.

You walk to the only window no one is smoking and check your phone, you know, the thing you do when you pretend you have important issues to attend, but no, you end reading some old messages, pictures, texting your mom of how much fun you’re having at the party, and somehow you check your filed Facebook messages to find Logan’s name. You cover the screen so fast you hurt your nail, his name is enough to make you tremble like a Chihuahua, you haven’t talked to him since that night, you know from his sister he lives in the house he bought for you two and he’s having the happiest life without you. You want to believe that because that means you took the right decision but deep inside… no, you can’t be that person, you want him to be happier than ever.

You find the guts to open the message, and you read as slowly as is humanly possible. “My angel, I hope this finds you in perfect health…” Dios, just Logan could start a message like that, your smile is almost too big to fit in your face so you bit your nail to cover it a little. “I recently found one of the human body drawings you made for me to study, you’ll be happy to know…”

—That’s a fucking long-ass message.—Tim appears behind you and takes your phone from your hand, spilling some of his drink on your dress in the process. Apparently, he's been there long enough to read part of the message.

—Give it back.—You command in the most severe voice you have, your magical moment got ruined and you remember the hole of hell you are.

—"My angel, I hope this finds you in perfect health. I recently found one of the human body drawings you made for me to study, you must know I still use them now and then"—Timothée starts reading the message, and even when no one is close enough to hear it and you don’t really care about this people’s opinion, that’s not for anyone to read, that’s one of the few parts of your life you treasure the most and you’re not ready to get over it.—You little slut, are you cheating on me with a med student?

—Give it to me.—You repeat trying to take the phone from his hand but he’s faster and walks away putting it out of your reach.

—"I meticulously preserve them, I certainly know any piece of art made by you will be priceless in the near future"—You don’t want to hear it coming from his drunk mocking voice, so you try to ignore what he’s saying and put more effort on chasing the phone.—Should I had kept the jeans where you left the wet spot on? I didn’t know you were an artist, my love.

—Timothée, por el amor de Dios.—Now you're trying to climb him, it wouldn't be that hard to take him down, he's skinny and you're fierce. That's what you thought but he's not moving even with you are on top of his shoulder and his opposite long arm keeps the phone away from you.

—Who is this guy and why is he talking to my girl like this?—You see the olive eyes getting darker and the tone of his voice went deeper than you thought he could do. You desist from taking the phone, you know the bullies love the attention, maybe that's exactly what he wants and give it to him just makes it worse.

—I'm not your girl.—You claim fixing up your dress having enough of games, and you have no reason to keep worrying about losing your job, the filming is done, and apparently your relationship with him too. You don't care about any of that anymore, just want to read Logan's text.

Even behind all the alcohol and the eyes injected in blood thanks for who knows what kind of drug, you can see the disappointment and anger, but it's not a broken heart, Is the hissy fit of a child that loses his balloon and now everyone will pay for it, especially you.

—Are you sure about that?—You can see him swallow hard, almost looking vulnerable, but his voice is defiant and threatening to prove you wrong. He just has to stretch out his arm to reach the open window with your phone in hand, his intentions are clear and the only thing you can do is raise your hands as a reflex.—You were mine the moment you put a foot on my trailer, and I don't fucking share my stuff.—Before you can say a word he drops the phone from the fourth floor.

You know is senseless but you find yourself running out of the party and going to search the device, using it also as an excuse to get away from that place. This is the first time someone makes you feel meaningless, you know the famous' world is cold and lacking in empathy but this is ridiculous, they're a bunch of parasites fed by attention and power. By Timothée.

The screen is crashed and the rest of it is probably beyond repair, not that you're surprised, its life is longer than you've been in the country and you admit you should have replaced it much earlier but you're not the kind to throw away things that still work. However, is not the phone you are worried about, not as much as what it contains.

—That was obsolete anyway, I'll get you a better one.—You didn't know he was following you, his voice interrupts your self-wailing. He sounds calmer and a little embarrassed, but not enough to say sorry, you don't think he's capable of saying it.

You shake your head and start to walk away without a word, you don't want anything from him, not materially, at least.

—Don't make a scandal out of it, it's just a phone!—He yells erasing any trace of regret in his voice. He doesn't see the reaction he expected and that's when he runs after you and with a hand on your upper arm pulls you back, you gasped for the sudden bluntness.—That annoying habit you have of leaving when I'm talking to you.

You push him away with all the strength you have, which resulted in him almost falling on the ground.

—I don't care about the stupid phone!—You finally break, but sadly is not as satisfactory as you thought it would be.—You are mean, vain, arrogant and the worst part is that you enjoy being this despicable human because you have absolutely no consequences to it. Everyone around you just accepts it and I feel so sorry for you because the only possible way for you to fill the void inside is to be surrounded by that crowd of mules licking your steps—To your surprise, he has nothing to say, he's just standing there with no facial expression, whatever he feels is easily covered by his years of experience acting, even drunk.—I can't give you that and it's obvious they don't want me either. What am I even doing here?—You ask yourself thinking where would be the best way of getting a cab, is a rich zone, must be easy.

—Everything is better when you're around—His voice is thin and fragile, you have to process what he said three times in your head to understand his words. You're not willing to look at him yet.—You're not like the others.

—Pure bullshit. You love to repeat that misogynist discourse of girls being in a certain way because is easier than be responsible for the people you choose to be—You were hugging yourself the whole time, is a cold night, but not enough to be bothersome, you enjoy Fall weather—You got me for a moment, I give you that, you fooled me but I'm too tired of guessing what version of you is real—When you return your gaze at him, he doesn't try to hide the guilt anymore, but there's still haughtiness in there.—Now, if you don't mind Mr. Chalamet, I need to get a cab.

—No, you came with me, you leave with me.—There's no trace of alcohol in his voice anymore, a good scolding is enough to put you sober, you know that thanks to your mom. Oh god, you're becoming her.

—You didn't bring me here, gigantic head—You look at him and put your hand in front of him with the palm up. He stares at it for several seconds before put his own on it—Not that!—You shake it and start looking inside his jeans pockets until you feel the metal of his key car.—You can't drive and I have to get home. You'll find it in the studio tomorrow.

That's how you ended with a car way more luxurious than you expected, driving so slowly and carefully that the police stopped you. What a night, but at this point, you couldn't care less about anything that is not that message, is been months and you can't get over it, over him. Not even Ben moans, Tom's comforting arms, or fight with a movie star at 3:00 am. is enough to get him out of your mind.

—So is true, you don't wear anything that hasn't appeared in a movie, huh?—Michael B. Jordan is leaning on the car window with a mocking smile and a sparkle of satisfaction that you would love to punch but his uniform keeps you in line, where you come from police is not equal to justice, most of the times is oppression.

—You know where it's from?—That was kind of comforting, no one at the party noticed. Not that you care.

—Is The Mask, not some Adam Hitchcock's blurb.—He smiles and even when you really don't like him, it's nice to be with a familiar face, you are really tired of running away, scaping for problems that are a result of your null capacity to deal with emotions. Ugh, what a word.

—Is Alfred Hitchcock, actually.—You didn't want to sound priggish, but you correct him with no time to stop yourself, an old habit.

—You got me, smarty, you know more than movies than me. Where did you get this car?—You feel really nervous even when you got this legally, you have your documents and license on time and he's being nice enough to not want to run away in a car that you technically borrowed for yourself.

—It's not mine.—No shit, Sherlock.

—No shit, Sherlock, I was asking where did you steal it.—You wanted to laugh but there's something with the uniform that just doesn't allow you to be yourself.—Are you drunk?

—No, no, fuck, no, it's just, I don't feel comfortable with cops—He raises his eyebrows but that is his only reaction.—Listen, is my boss' car, I'm doing the favor to take it to the studio, and I'm really nervous because is fucking expensive, he's an asshole, I haven't drive un almost a year because you people only use cars if you're rich or your work and lives depend on it. I'm starving.—The last part came out of nowhere, you haven't eaten anything in almost 13 hours, maybe that's the actual reason why you are that moody.

He doesn't answer right away, takes his time to look at you, what makes you blush, he's really close, closer than he's ever been. Does he smell like green apples? Not the actual apples, the artificial smell they had given to them.

—Get out of the car.—Oh no, is he arresting you? Is he finally taking revenge for every time you make fun of his Hawaiian-type shirts? You know you have too much karma accumulated and a cop making you pay for it when you don’t believe in their sense of justice is kinda poetic, and evil.

You don’t want to discuss with someone with a taser, gun, pepper spray, or who knows what else. So you take your bag, the key car, and get off defeated.

—My turn is almost over, I’ll take you to eat something, c’mon.—He walks back to his patrol and you stay still for a few seconds still processing his words, you must look totally devastated for him to offer that. How you see it you have two options, go with him and spend an awkward hour with a person you don’t like or risk getting a fine, Tim can pay it, it’s not a big deal but you don’t want to owe him even the minimal thing.

You get in the car holding on to your bag to feel calmer, this is the first time you’re fully alone with him since you found him half-naked in your kitchen. Those defined abs may never leave your brain.

—Are you cold?—He interrupts your thoughts with his question, you didn’t notice you were shaking. He looks for something under his seat and gives you an NYPD hoodie, you hold it doubting your next move, is not like you don’t appreciate the gesture but it’d be easier to take if it doesn’t get that words printed—Is clean.—He says chuckling when he sees the way you’re looking at it.

—Is not that, just, you know, fuck the police, defund the NYPD, demilitarize the pigs and that stuff.—You say putting on the hoodie anyway, is a cold night and you won't help the institution wearing their propaganda.

—Yeah, I get it, but you can't change the system just from within.—You decide is not the right moment to have a political conversation so you shrug your shoulders and discreetly smell the hoodie, a mix of cologne, green apples, and cheap soap, you know is cheap because you buy the exact same, do its job.

—I'm in the mood for pizza.—You say casually, making a deal to yourself to try to be his friend, he is a small part of your life anyway.—Domino's is open at this time of the night?

—Tell me you're not consuming that shit, dear Lord, you been here for how long, two years? I can't believe your idea of a good pizza is Domino's. Stella hasn't taught you anything?—You're surprised by the level of condescension with a pizza and you mirror his smile, suddenly feeling embarrassed. Your school program includes people from all around the world so you don't have that much experience with actual new yorkers. Logan is rich, so he doesn't really count.

—What's wrong with Domino's? I don't buy much street food, is cheaper to buy things on the food market. Besides, all pizza is good.—The mention of Sheep makes you a little tense, so you don't say anything about it, is not a conversation to have with him.

—Don't blaspheme in the patrol, I just washed it—You laugh, finally, after a terrible weekend. You can see why she likes him, there is something about his voice, smile, and his eyes that feel... calm, like watching Friends after a marathon of Lord of the Rings.—There are rules to survive this city, and I'm surprised you have made it this far without a proper guide.

—Chill out Mr. Miyagi, I'm not from the jungle, and I've learned a lot by myself.—He gives you a lopsided grin as a request, and you put your fingers up ready to enlist your acquired knowledge.—Walk fast, like you're about to be stabbed, something that actually happened to me, with an umbrella—He nods and laughs being related to it.—Number two, no small talk, no one cares, even if they ask. Number three, if you look a stranger in the eye, especially a homeless person, you have essentially invited them to approach you.

—Number four, we never eat from Domino's, Papa John's, Pizza hut, or any other chain restaurant, only trucks and local places are allowed.—You roll your eyes but you get the point, is just, again, you're not much into street food, it doesn't taste like home and the only way to eat food like that is preparing it yourself.

—Fine, fuck capitalism, let's support local places—You make an obvious fake enthusiastic tone but he nods proudly.—Number five, you don't need a car to live here, not even know how to drive. I would have successfully avoided this police brutality if I had followed that rule.

—For someone who is about to eat for free, you whine too much.—He parks the car and gives you a sign to go with him. You see him go to a pizza truck and order, you realize at the moment how ridiculous you look, so before chasing him you let your hair down, take your huge earrings off, and roll up the skirt of your dress until your mid-thighs letting the hoodie cover the rest, and clean the red lipstick with a Kleenex from your bag. Now you look more like a college person and not a rich girl who just got seized.

—Here you go.—He says giving you a slice as big as your head, looks oily and spreading cheese everywhere. Perfect.

—Is it vegan?—You ask receiving the food with an obnoxious face. His kind grind turned into a dread expression and you give him your second laugh of the day.—I'm kidding.

You are about to give it a bite when you see passing next to you a huge rat with the exact same slice as yours in its mouth, running into the dark of the night happy to have obtained the food for its family. They use to scare you when you just moved out but now they're like any other pigeon in the sky.

—Rule... whatever, a rat with a slice of pizza is a symbol for good luck, congratulations.—He pets your head awkwardly, not sure if you're ok with the physical contact, which, surprisingly, you are.

—I see rats with bagels all the time.—Pizza and bagels, that's the main culinary wonders of the city, you like it, not much to object but is hard not to compare it with your home's food.

—Is easy to confuse a rough diamond with a simple rock.—You both eat in silence, enjoying the mixed sounds of the city and all the different smells, the whole situation feels like one of those lofi music videos. You remember thinking about moments like this before getting the scholarship, what would it be like to feel normal in the city of your dreams.

—How do you know that much about movies?—He asks after a few minutes when you take a break to drink something, that pizza is not easy to take.

—When I was a kid a spent much time on my own, so my dad bought me a used DVD reproducer, and at the corner of my neighborhood was this movie store where you could buy 5 pirate movies for one dollar. They were blurred, with a terrible sound, and most of the time with the wrong movie inside but they helped me to not feel lonely. Eventually, the store closed but I've watched everything in it by then—He gives you a warm smile, you never told that story to anyone, not because is too intimate to share, but because no one asked, it doesn't sound like a question with a complex answer.—Anyway, I watched Marie Antoinette when I was like eight, and I decided at that moment that however is done I wanted to be part of that magic.

—You hear all kind of people chasing dreams in this city but is hard to find someone who actually deserves it.—You blush and you cover it with your hair but the smile on your voice is impossible to hide.

—Is that a compliment? You must really want me to like you to date Sheep.—You laugh but you can see his face tense, so you can guess your friend has been busy breaking everyone’s hearts.

—She hasn’t returned my calls in three days so I don’t think there’s much you can do—You nod, all this time you thought he was the reason she is ignoring you but apparently you are both in the same boat.—But yeah, I don’t know what I was thinking, what I should have said is, Marie Antoinette at eight? I can see where all the damage started.

You gasp and throw your napkin at his head, he easily catches it without even looking at it and laughs; that was unexpectedly attractive.

—Why a cop?—You ask, not sure where that question came from, maybe you authentically want to know more about him, he just bought you food, and honestly, that's the easiest way to win your trust.

—I wanted to be an actor when I was a child. This is the city of opportunities so you may think that if you want to chase the big wonder, this is the perfect place to do it. But I grow up surrounded by these people giving their entire lives to get something just given to one in a million so I decided is not worth it. For many years I wondered what I wanted to do with my life and the answer was really clear, my dad was a cop, a good one, or that’s what people say. I don’t remember much because he died when I was seven—Conversations about death are not your strength, everything can turn out uncomfortable if you choose the wrong words.—It might not be that glamorous but if my father died for it, it surely worth it.

—For the good ones.—You raise your almost empty can of Coke and he does the same with a grin that warms the cold weather of the night.

—For the good ones.

The next two hours passed like minutes talking about anything and everything. It just felt right to talk freely with him, you didn’t feel judged for your awkward family moments or your random thoughts, not even once because he told you his too. At some point of the night he borrowed you his gym sweatpants, any of you could just suggest going home but that was off the table, end that peace just for weather reasons would have been a tragedy.

—I read Timothée Chalamet is a dick. Is that true?—The mention of his name remains you of your life and everything that comes with it, including the middle semester project that you must dedicate your entire day, one that is about to start.—What, you can’t talk about it?

—He is a complete dick with no sense of privacy or human decency—And when he interrupts a deep kiss to look at your eyes, smile, and caress your chin, you feel like a character of his Victorian movies. But he didn’t ask that.—But the next week he’ll be no longer my problem.

—That’s why we have rule twenty-three, don’t ask for a picture of a celebrity unless they are local—You have heard about it before but you haven’t got the opportunity to decide if you like that rule because the only celebrities you have seen are from work and that club’s party opening.—That means you’ll be free to go to the Stephen Kings’ movie projection there will be for Halloween.

You don’t know if that was a proposition, a suggestion, or just a simple recommendation, and whatever it is, you noticed he was nervous to ask. Is it wrong? It feels wrong like you were betraying your friend accepting to hang out with his boyfriend without her consent. But he didn’t ask you to go with him so is safe to answer.

—Yeah, I guess—You get a moment, four seconds top, where you shared innocent, curious, and tenting gazes like three graders in the playground. And that’s the further you will allow yourself to go.—We better leave, if the sunlight touch me I’ll turn into dust.

You get off the car hood and go to the side door, but this time he opens it for you. You give him a “seriously?” Look, receiving a little push in your arm as a response.

↬☀︎︎

A distant voice asks you to wake up, softly whispers that turn into caresses on your cheek, your eyes feel so heavy, even when you are well aware of your environment your eyelids keep closed.

—Good morning, Princess—This is the first time Tom calls you that way, the change from silly nicknames to Princess is enough to get you out of hibernation. He is squatting beside your bed, his smile is the promise of a better day, and chasing that idea you give him one small back.—Your mom has been texting me desperately all day, she said you're not answering her calls and is worried.

—Fuck, my phone broke last night, can I call her from yours?—That’s an oversimplification but in the search for a better story, that's what you decide to believe and tell. Tom nods and gives it to you, he looks happy, beyond that, this is the first time you see that subtle blush on his cheeks and the eyes sparkling. You sit on the bed next to his body looking for your mom's number, slowly he moves between your legs, you have shorts and an oversized Back To The Future t-shirt, you got took the time to prepare yourself to bed last night and keep Michael’s clothes inside your closet to wash them, like The Tell-Tale Heart, a little innocent secret who feels dirty somehow

The conversations with your mom are always long, nostalgic and the tears are hard to hold for both parts; after a long life sharing almost every day with her, her absence never feels smaller. But this time is different, Tom is exploring the bare skin under your knee with his warm hands, asking for permission with curious eyes, and when you don’t object to the touch the British boy keeps his exploring mission cautiously, giving special attention to see your eyes in case something change. Is time to hang up when he gives a long and loving kiss to your knee, the less erotic kiss you could think of but so intimate to bristle your skin.

—Not nice to touch someone's daughter when is talking to her mom.—The protest of your voice loses strength at every word, he heard that and just straight his back to reach your face, the gap is almost extinct.

—We're okay, she likes me.—He assures holding your hips and pulling you a bit to him. Tom looks very comfortable with the new closeness authorization, you like it but are not very sure about it yet, most of you still think of him as your best friend.

—Did she tell you that? Are you talking with my mom behind my back?—You laugh when he does, almost like nothing changed.

—She adores me, I swear, I'm invited to Christmas, you know?—You're not surprised, she invites everyone, Logan was too but the first time he got family plans and didn't make it to the second.

—You should go, maybe we can do...—His lips touch yours in a peak at the middle phrase and makes you forget what you were about to say.—Man, the audacity to interrupt...—Then he kisses you again, deeply, using his tongue to taste your inner lip and his hands holding your shirt in fists. That's a twist of events.

—Is that ok?—You hear a weak whisper coming out of his voice but you got so mesmerized on his lips that decided to ignore it and kiss him back instead. He responds to your touch and starts to lean over you to make you lay on the bed.

Jesucristo bendito, is this happening? like, actually happening? you must look like trash, you barely took all the makeup from the night before and didn't take a shower, you start to get so worried about smells, feelings, and what that'll mean to your already too much-spoiled friendship.

However, the time of doubts is done when Sheep starts yelling in the living room, you both reacted running to the sound and looking for your blonde friend. Michael is there but doesn't look like the same as a few hours ago, is annoyed and tired for the lack of sleep, a look that doesn't match him at all.—What did you do?—You ask him fast assuming she's mad for something he did.

—Just in time, the star of the movie, I was wondering how much it will take you to be the protagonist of this.—That is Sheep's voice talking about you and what must be your heart breaking from her words.

—Excuse me?—You wish your tone would be less savage but you can't help respond the same way she did.

—Logan wasn't enough, then you got the drummer, fucking Timothée Chalamet, Tom and now my boyfriend. I'm so glad I didn't leave you alone with my dad or I'd be calling you mom now.—You have no words to that, Michael doesn't even dare to look at you, he must have told her something she misunderstood, but Sheep, or well, Stella is saying things she actually thinks and keep to herself. Tom walks in front of you whispering things to her to calm her down but she is not looking at him, you didn't tell her anything about Tom either so he's taking responsibility this time.—Go ahead and fuck the whole city, Michael if that please you but you're crossing the line with Tom and you know that, you're going to ruin him as you ruin every man that enters in your life.—She has a very you moment having the last word of the dispute and getting out of the apartment with Michael going after her but not putting much effort in it.

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[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

hello! I hope I’m doing this right? but may I get general wedding headcanons for azul and a mermaid!s/o (she/her pronouns preferably) who decide to have a wedding in the sea?

I do.

Since both the bride and the groom are merfolk, the wedding is decided to be held underwater, right in the Coral Sea itself. It’s easier for all your merfolk friends and family to attend, too!

The venue is set outdoors rather than in a building to accommodate for Azul’s bulky limbs. That way, less things get knocked over or tangled up in his tentacles!

Azul’s family get very involved in the preparations! Mrs. Ashengrotto’s restaurant goes on overdrive to hunt ingredients and whip up enough food for your guests. Meanwhile, Mr. Ashengrotto works with you and Azul on the legal paperwork for your marriage.

Azul’s grandmother contributes to your wedding outfit! She strings together a collection of pearls and fisherman’s netting to create a beautiful veil and bodice for you.

Only the freshest seafood will be served! Being that the Coral Sea is... well, a sea, there’s limited methods of cooking, so the feast will mainly be composed of raw fish and sea vegetables. (But Mrs. Ashengrotto provides plenty of fried and unhealthy alternatives, as those are her son’s favorites. She wants him to enjoy his special day!)

The dress code is far less formal for underwater weddings, since wearing a ton of fabric is impractical for moving in the water. Most mermen show up in bowties or a vest, and most mermaids show up in fancy tops or more jewelry than usual.

There’s a brief moment of panic before the vows, because one of the best men *coughcoughFLOYDcoughcough* claims he accidentally lost the pearl-encrusted ring... But thank the Great Seven, it’s just a prank that almost makes Azul cry! Other than that, the ceremony goes smoothly.

When it’s time for the twins to make a heartfelt speech to the newlyweds, they instead share a bunch of embarrassing middle school stories about Azul (like the time he got so scared, he inked himself, or that time when he was dared to touch a butt boat). Azul turns bright red, just like boiled octopus, from hearing those horrific tales again--you’ll need to pat his hand to soothe him.

You pull him to the open dance floor, where a live band is blasting a jazzy tune. Arm in arm, you swing to the music and spiral into the water--now happily married, and unified in song.

[hiddenzebra]

The key to a good cover story is to keep it simple. Enough detail to look real, but not so much I can trip myself up if anyone asks anything. Somewhere to be and a reason to be there, that's all.

Question: What does one pack for a "relaxing weekend with the girls" that's really a "dirty weekend with my secret lover?"

Answer: the usuals plus lingerie that has been bought especially for the occasion, impractical killer heels, and an outfit that would be suitable to go for dinner with friends but is also a little alluring. That's the most challenging bit, finding a dress that fits the bill. I settle on a wrap dress because it accentuates my waist and I can show as much or as little cleavage as I like. I've considered not wearing knickers but I don't think I've got the nerve for that. I'm not sure where we're going for dinner so how practical it would be to 'go commando'. Aside from which, it's winter. Too cold for that!

The day arrives and I say goodbye to Husband and children. They are used to me being absent for whole weekends due to work, so they don't seem worried. I'm a little uneasy though. A weekend away is a big deal, I haven't had one since before they were born. Regardless of where I'm going and with whom, the parent guilt cannot be ignored.

I arrive at the hotel much earlier than I need too and way before check in time, so I go for a walk into the town. We have talked about contraception and I need to make a purchase.

"It was amazing when we were briefly unprotected before" he'd said. It was only brief, but it did stand out. "We could go bare back next time if you get the morning after pill"

I work in healthcare - my brain is screaming at me that this isn't what that pill is for.

"Imagine feeling me fill you with my hot, thick load" he continues.

"I love that feeling" I answer, knowing full well he's going to talk me into this. "I'll think about it"

When I booked the hotel I checked for details of local pharmacies - we'd need one either way. I wasn't prepared to buy contraceptives of any kind in Hometown.

When I get there I approach the counter with the confidence of a woman who is far enough from home not to have to worry about being seen.

"Can I help you?" The shop assistant is an older lady with a bit of a superior tone.

"I need to speak to the pharmacist please"

"She's busy. Can I help?"

"I need emergency contraception" there's a queue behind me but I don't care.

"You'll need to pay" she says with a huff. I'm fully prepared to pay, I know how this works.

She returns with the pharmacist who takes me to a side room. The pharmacist is a much younger woman, a little younger than me I imagine.

"I need to ask a few routine questions" she begins. "Why do you need emergency contraception?"

I'm going to have some fun with this.

"I had consensual but unprotected sex with a man who is not my husband"

Her face is trying not to react.

"When did this happen?" she asks

"Last night" I lie.

She asks about my cycle, talks about the risks and side effects then once she is happy I know enough she takes my money.

"Would you like your recept?"

"No thank you, that recept needs to disappear"

I put the pill in my bag and turn on my heels. It's time to get ready.

[t4yce]

if you could have it your way, no matter the price tag, or work/school dress codes or anyone else's opinion, what would your dream fashion aesthetic be? (yes i know it's not sunday lmao but i got another question for sunday and as soon as I thought of this one i immediate needed to know ok)

shh its ok your questions are welcome any day of the week 😘

gonna put this under a read more bc i love clothes and this could get long my apologies

but ooh ok well i think i already have my dream aesthetic for the most part; like if I like something and I can afford it I'll wear it 🤷🏻‍♀️ ive always overdressed for things and ive never really cared about other people's opinions thankfully (if anything i thrive on the judgemental stares lmao like yes pls stare at my outfit)

ive managed to find a lot of stuff i love in charity shops & sales over the years but shoes and handbags are so much harder to find so if money was no object then i would fill in those gaps first! i would love to have loaads of handbags e.g these babes (i definitely prefer small bags even if they're impractical)

i live in heels so would love some more out there/embellished ones, i don't think i even own flat shoes but if i could afford some like the ones in the 3rd photo then i definitely would!!

and yeah basically i love pearls and ribbons, collars, frills, big sleeves etc so anything this vibe 👌🏻