"B★BY YOU'RE THE B★DDEST GIRL" ⸝⸝ ...Beauty Things To Script

"little miss baker" like things to script ‧⭑.ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker always has flour on her cheeks .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker hums while kneading dough .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker writes secret recipes in a tiny notebook .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker wears the cutest pastel apron .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker has a special wooden spoon she swears is lucky .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker always sneaks a taste of the batter .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker can tell cookies are done just by the smell .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker decorates cakes like an artist .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker has a collection of adorable cookie cutters .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker makes the kitchen warm and cozy .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker loves watching bread rise in the oven .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker gives everyone homemade treats “just because" .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker has a tiny sprinkle obsession .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker bakes at midnight when she can’t sleep .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker always has a fresh batch of something cooling on the counter .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker ties her apron in a perfect bow .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker leaves trails of powdered sugar wherever she goes.ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker has a habit of doodling cupcake designs in her notebook .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker always has a whisk in her hand, even when she doesn’t need it .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker makes the kitchen smell like cinnamon and vanilla.ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker collects vintage recipe cards .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker talks to her dough while kneading it .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker has a special mug just for sipping tea while waiting for the oven timer .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker owns way too many cupcake liners in different colors .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker gets flour in her hair and doesn’t even notice .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker knows exactly when to take brownies out for the perfect fudgy center .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker arranges her sprinkles in little glass jars .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker has the cutest oven mitts with tiny hearts on them.ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker insists that cookies taste better when shared .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker loves rainy days because they’re perfect for baking.ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker twirls around the kitchen while waiting for dough to rise .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker has a rolling pin that’s been passed down for generations .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker can make perfect pie crust with her eyes closed .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker gets excited over seasonal baking ingredients .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker always has a jar of homemade jam on the counter.ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker believes baking is the cure for any bad day .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker has a soft spot for baking mini versions of everything .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker somehow makes even messy baking look aesthetic .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker leaves cute little notes on her baked goods .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker has a tiny collection of pastel mixing bowls .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker names her sourdough starter something adorable .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker wears fluffy socks while baking for extra coziness .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker can crack eggs perfectly with one hand .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker gasps dramatically when a cake comes out perfectly .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker always does a little happy dance when she tastes something delicious .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker has a secret stash of chocolate chips for snacking .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker somehow always gets frosting on her nose .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker carefully ties ribbons around gift-wrapped cookies .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker always has a candle that smells like vanilla bean burning .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker giggles when the dough poofs up in the oven .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker saves cute bakery boxes just in case .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker has a collection of whisks in every color .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker writes love letters in icing on cakes .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker loves the sound of a knife slicing through a perfectly crisp croissant.ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker collects pretty teaspoons for stirring hot cocoa .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker believes measuring ingredients is optional (but somehow still gets it right) .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker always gets flour on her sweater sleeves .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker believes midnight muffins taste better .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker has a cute little window herb garden for fresh ingredients .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker loves decorating cupcakes like tiny works of art .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker gets a little teary-eyed when someone says her baking is the best they’ve ever had .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker secretly loves licking the cake batter spoon like a little kid .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker has a collection of handwritten recipes with little doodles on them.ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker sets out a plate of cookies just because it makes the kitchen feel cozy .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker sprinkles everything with extra love (and maybe a little extra sugar).ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker thinks baking while it rains is peak cottagecore vibes .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker always saves the first cookie for herself .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker loves the poof sound when opening a new bag of flour .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker wears a chef’s hat that’s just slightly too big .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker always makes extra dough because she knows she’ll eat some .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker somehow gets cinnamon in places cinnamon shouldn’t be .ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker talks to her cakes as they bake, just to make sure they turn out right.ᐟ

- Little Miss Baker truly believes a warm cookie can fix anything .ᐟ

Ok but picture this, Agatha goes on a life death?changing field trip with Billy. Probably they find Tommy and Wanda, and Wanda restores Agatha’s body since she kind of saved both her kids.

Rio expects Agatha to run as soon as her feet physically hit solid ground again, but she just…doesn’t. Like Rio shows up and is all, “what’s it going to be? Where are you going to run this time coward???”

And Agatha just looks at her, looks around, looks at her and is like, “did I not tell you to fix my damn yard?”

Rio is stunned. Like of all the responses. And Agatha is being (mostly) serious. She clearly expects Death (capital D) to do her damn landscaping. And before Rio can figure out how to react, Agatha is like, “that includes my door and sink. Who tf throws the actual kitchen sink at someone. It’s supposed to be a figure of speech, you overgrown hipster!” And just throws her hands in the air and starts towards the house. Rio is so flabbergasted that she just leaves for a bit. But not before fixing the door. Every time she comes back she expects Agatha to be gone, but nope, there she is, inexplicably hanging out in New Jersey. Sometimes she’s teaching the boys. Sometimes she and Wanda are having philosophical arguments (aka she’s also teaching Wanda but neither is willing to admit it. Rio refuses to leave until Wanda does on those occasions.)

Occasionally she takes trips to other places for various reasons. She nails a note to the door specifically for Rio with detailed instructions for Señor Scratchy and a plea to leave her damn azaleas alone. (Rio does not, and Agatha often comes home to a well fed bunny and man-eating flowers. How one makes azaleas man-eating is anyone’s guess, but Agatha’s money is on semi-divine spite.) Every time she returns to find Rio sulking on the porch. Which is odd because sometimes she has to rush out of the house to get in position. Like Agatha has started to walk up her driveway and seen Rio fling herself out the door and onto the front steps to glare at her. (Señor is a very relaxing bunny and sometimes Rio loses track of time ok.) Neither of them discuss this beyond Agatha rolling her eyes and inviting her back in for a drink or dinner or what have you.

This continues for a truly obnoxious amount of time until Rio finally decides that Agatha is done hiding from her and decides to become the biggest nuisance in existence. Agatha is always annoyed but she never sends Rio away. The worst she does is bitch and moan, and occasionally throw something at her ex-maybe current-wife. If she’s doing something truly important, or, more often, if it looks like Rio is thinking a little too hard about murdering the twins, she’ll tell her to go play somewhere else for a bit. Rio always snarls and growls but she usually heads off for a couple of days. The problem is almost always that she’s either bored or stressed. She always finds herself back in Westview to annoy Agatha eventually. (Sometimes if she’s in a very good mood, Rio will help with the twins’ lessons. But don’t tell anyone.)

Eventually they settle into what everyone else can tell is a relationship, but which they both firmly deny is anything more than a convent arrangement. They make this everyone’s problem, in true agathario fashion, but no one seems to really mind.

Idk, just something I have rattling around in my head.

𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐎𝐈 [𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐎𝐍]

PAIRINGS — Violet Bridgerton x fem!seamstress!Reader

SUMMARY — Madame Delacroix expands her business with a French seamstress and Violet is the first customer.

WORD COUNT — 6.2K

WARNINGS — 18+ NSFW MDNI, it’s just gay sex guys idk what to tell you, French dialogue used throughout (minimally but context helps explain)

NOTE — I feel obligated to tell you that this fic is in part inspired by a song I listen to on repeat, although I don’t think the French guys that wrote it realized it would be the catalyst for a sapphic fanfic

Lady Violet Bridgerton was never one for last minute endeavours. That wasn’t to say she didn’t appreciate a little spontaneity every now and again, but surely she preferred when things were planned and she was prepared. 

So it shocked her, of all things, that she could be the reason for her own unpreparedness. In reality, her family’s circumstances — with Francesca’s departure to Scotland, Anthony and Kate’s travels to India, and Colin and Penelope’s honeymoon — were the real cause of her scattered brain, but she still blamed herself of course. 

It was with a very apologetic look that she entered the modiste, hopeful that Madame Delacroix might be able to fit her in for a last minute appointment so that she could have a dress made for an upcoming ball. 

“Unfortunately, I will not be able to help you, Lady Bridgerton,” the seamstress said and Violet cursed internally, “but I have a colleague who has just arrived from France to help me since business has been so-err plentiful.” 

“Oh!” Violet was pleasantly surprised, blinking her eyes a few times, thinking something was better than nothing at this point. “Would she be able to see me?” 

“She is just getting settled, but I am sure she can make some time for a very loyal customer who I am sure has been just as busy as me recently,” Madame Delacroix gave Violet a friendly smile which was bashfully returned. 

She asked Violet to wait for a moment, going to the back where Violet could hear some quiet chatter before Madame Delacroix returned with you by her side. 

“Lady Bridgerton, this is Madame Bisset.” 

Violet had to remind herself to move her head up and down in a polite nod, her eyes glued so intensely to yours. She wouldn’t be surprised if her mouth was slightly agape like that of a fish, but she could have sworn she’d never seen anything as beautiful in her entire life.

“I have a space upstairs,” you explained. “It is still a little messy. I hope you do not mind.” 

“I-” Violet’s voice came out strained and she coughed and cleared her throat. “No, that will not be a problem.” 

“Perfect, right this way, Madame,” you motioned for her to follow you, going into the back of the shop, climbing up a set of narrow stairs until you reached the top, revealing to Violet another workspace she hadn’t seen before. 

Like you had already mentioned, it was a little rough around the edges, fabric was still pouring out of boxes, a few mannequins were tucked away in the corner, but there was a nice carpeted area in the middle of the room with a raised platform and a large mirror.

“Um, Madame Delacroix said you came from France recently,” Violet found herself beginning to talk. 

“Yes, I arrived just one week ago,” you explained. “I heard there is quite the market for dress making in London and I was looking for a bit of a change.” 

“I hope you enjoy it here,” Violet smiled. “Lord knows the ton cannot get enough of a good modiste.” 

“That is what I am relying on.” you chuckled, and motioned for her to step up on the platform. “Now, what is it you are looking for, Lady Bridgerton?” 

“Just an evening gown, for an upcoming ball,” she said, finding herself unable to break her gaze from you, watching as you brought out a measuring tape and looked through some boxes of fabric. 

“Any preferences?” you asked. “We just had this lovely fabric come in, I think it would look quite stunning on you.” 

Once you had found it, you pulled it out of the box with a smile and came to drape it over Violet’s shoulder so she could see it on herself. You smoothed out the fabric along her front and she almost felt herself stagger back at the gentle and light pressure over her chest and midsection. 

“What do you think?” 

She blinked a few times, like she was trying to get her eyes to work again, taking in the blushy pink fabric with darker pink paisley embroidery. 

“Yes, it’s quite nice,” her voice came out a whisper. 

“Perfect,” you smiled. “Then I will take your measurements and you can be on your way.” 

Measurements. Violet wasn’t sure if she’d be able to make it through that. 

There was something electric about your touch, even when your fingers were simply hovering over her, she could feel sparks sending signals to her heart, beating faster until she could hear it pounding in her ears. 

Violet had always known attraction to be strong and forceful, but this was bordering on violent. 

She watched as you adjusted the measuring tape in your hands, first starting with the length from her shoulder to her ankle. You worked with much concentration and diligence, and for that Violet was grateful, because it meant that maybe you wouldn’t notice how each time she felt your hands against her she would have to centre herself and remind herself how to breathe, repeating the words in and out over and over again in her head. 

Eventually, you needed to take the measurements for her hips and bust and Violet knew if she didn’t distract herself somehow she might faint. 

“Um when will I-uh need to come in for adjustments?” she asked, just as your hands wrapped the tape from around her back to the front of her chest. 

“Currently you are my only customer,” you said. “I believe two days will be more than enough time for me to finish. After the adjustments are done I can have the dress sent to Bridgerton house if that is agreeable.” 

“Oh, um, no there is no need for that,” she shook her head. “I can pick it up. The home is quiet nowadays with most of my children off in every corner of Lord knows where,” she chuckled nervously. “It’s nice to get out of the house and get some fresh air, perhaps get some tea, go for a stroll.” 

“Yes of course, whatever suits you, Madame,” you nodded your head. “And I believe we are finished for today.” 

Violet gave you a sheepish smile and stepped down from the platform. 

“Thank you, Madame Bisset. I am not normally this-uh disorganized,” she explained. “I promise next time I will plan things much better.” 

“Lady Bridgerton, I love what I do, really it is no trouble. Come any time to see me.” 

Violet lightly chewed on the side of her bottom lip, looking down at her feet, her hands moving to her stomach, perhaps to remind herself that she was standing. 

“I will keep that in mind,” she nodded and wished you a final goodbye before walking down the stairs and exiting the modiste, grateful now for the air outside more than she thought she had ever been in her life. 

—

Two days later, Violet returned anxiously for her alterations. When she entered the modiste she was surprised to see you already downstairs, looking through some drawers for something. 

You heard the ring of the shop bell and looked up from where you were hunched over, a welcoming smile gracing your face. 

“Lady Bridgerton,” you greeted.

“Madame Bisset, it is good to see you.” 

Her mind drifted back to the image of you moments ago, bent over an open drawer. It certainly was good to see you. 

“Did I drop in at a bad time?” she asked. 

“Not at all, I was just getting some lace for the hem of the dress and around the sleeves and neckline. I thought it might be nice to try, no?” 

Violet nodded, she would simply say yes to anything that either gave her an excuse to be with you longer or to come back more often. 

You led her upstairs to your workspace again, and this time when she entered she realized it was noticeably cleaner and more organized than last time. 

Boxes were replaced by racks of fabrics and shelves had been uncovered to host a myriad of little things, all of which she was sure you’d find use for in due time. 

“Should I help with the dress, Madame?” you motioned to her outfit and Violet gulped. 

“Y-yes, I suppose that would be…necessary,” she nodded her head and you moved to close the door for the workspace and lock it to ensure privacy while Violet stood up on the slightly raised platform in front of the mirror. 

You had come to stand behind her, your fingers carefully fitting themselves between her sleeve and shoulder, helping her slip one arm out at a time before pulling it down slightly over her chest and guiding the fabric to the ground so she could step out of it. 

It was something she’d done in front of other women countless times, but never had she felt this vulnerable and exposed. She looked down and saw the hairs on her arm stand on end, only to be followed by a slight jolt when she felt your hand against her corseted waist.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized with a chuckle. “I just need…” your voice trailed off as you looked down at her feet and she realized she needed to step out of her dress. 

A rosy colour quickly made its way onto her cheeks as she stepped out of her dress so you could hang it up for her and bring the new dress for her to try on. 

She stepped into the pink fabric and tried to make sure her body made no involuntary movements as she felt your hands graze along her sides, helping each bare arm slip into a sleeve, now finally covered again. 

“Hmm,” you stood in front of her and analyzed the way the fabric fit. “It is a little loose here, no?” you asked, tightening the fabric around her chest slightly so that it was more in line with the shape of her corset. 

“I suppose, maybe, yes,” she nodded, “I-I’m sorry, but do you have any water?” Violet asked.”I-I’m feeling a little parched.” 

“Oh of course,” you nodded, letting go of her dress and walking to a pitcher and some glasses you had set to the side, filling one up for her before bringing it back. 

She tried her best to drink it graciously, but there was nothing more she wanted to do than down the whole glass in one shot. Once she was finished, you took the glass from her and set it aside, picking up the lace you had brought up with you, to present your suggestion.

“I was thinking maybe we can put it around the hem of the dress, like this,” you showed her, bending down and lifting the skirt just slightly to tuck some of the lace under it so it was peeking throughout the bottom. 

“Oh,” Violet raised her brows as she looked in the mirror. “I actually quite like that.” 

“So do I,” you nodded, standing back up, “And I thought maybe the arms…” 

You tried the same thing with the sleeves and, again, it suited the look of the dress. Lastly, you placed it around the neckline, moving to hold it up from behind her so she could see. 

Violet thought at that moment it was probably better not to breathe at all considering if she did, with the restriction of her corset her heaving chest would be quite obvious. 

“Mmm, je n’aime pas ça,” you shook your head, your voice soft and close to her ear. 

“I-I’m sorry?” 

Violet had spent most of her younger years learning French, but for some reason, the entirety of the language had escaped her. 

“I do not like the lace here,” you switched back to English, removing the lace and pulling the fabric a little tighter around her bust, pinning it in place with the pins from your pin cushion. “It is better like this.” 

“You think so?” she asked quietly, feeling herself swallow harshly after she finished speaking. 

“I know so, Madame,” you nodded. “Why would one hide such perfect skin?” 

Violet looked in the mirror at what you were referring to, her chest littered with freckles and spots. 

“I hardly think it is perfect,” she shook her head. 

“It would be like covering a starry sky with clouds,” you offered. “One cannot gaze at the stars and wonder about the universe on a cloudy night.” 

Violet chuckled nervously and looked down at the floor for a moment.

“Madame Bisset, I think you mistake how many people are gazing.”

“You would be surprised,” you gently placed your hand on her arm, rubbing up and down in a reassuring motion. 

She could feel the fabric of the sleeves move against her arm in response to your touch and it caused a warmth to spread in the pit of her stomach. 

You moved to grab a container with a few more pins and began seeing where adjustments needed to be made and dealt with the fabric accordingly. Violet felt herself easily growing restless, her fingers fiddling around with the small bits of thread sticking out of the end of the sleeves. 

“So, um, where does the name Bisset come from? What I mean to say is what area of France?” she quickly clarified. 

“Bisset does not belong to a region,” you explained. “It means one who weaves.” 

“Oh, how fitting,” Violet hummed. 

“It is not my real name,” you admitted. “Just something I picked up for work.” 

Violet bit the inside of her cheek, trying not to let her curiosity get the best of her, but when she heard your quiet chuckle from behind her, she tried to turn her head to look back at you. 

“What is it?” 

“It is okay, you want to know what my name actually is,” you said. “You can ask.” 

And so she did, and for the first time she heard your name. She tested it in her own voice, like she was savouring having your name on her tongue, burned into her mind. 

“Mine is Violet,” she said quietly. 

“Violet,” your French pronunciation of her name made her feel a shiver behind her neck, or maybe that was simply your breath against her skin. “Un nom joli pour une personne même plus jolie.”

Violet blushed at your admission, and you grinned. 

“So you understand me then?” 

She nodded her head. 

“Then what did I say?” you teased her a little, while adding a few more pins, now along the length of the sleeves. 

Violet looked at you as if to ask if you were really going to make her say it out loud, and when you didn’t seem to back down she caved. 

“You said that it was a beautiful name for a beautiful person,” she said before pressing her lips together. 

“Close,” you looked up at her. “A beautiful name for an even more beautiful person.” 

“You flatter me too much,” Violet shook her head. 

“In my experience, a dress is only as beautiful as the person wearing it,” you said. “It is always a pleasure to make something for someone who shines just as brightly as the fine fabrics and silks. Even more so when they believe it.” 

You put in the last pin and looked content with your work. 

“I should have this ready by tomorrow,” you told her. “You still wish to pick it up?” 

“Yes,” she nodded with a smile. 

“Alright, let me help you change so that you can be on your way.” 

Carefully, you helped Violet take off the dress, conscious to make sure none of the pins pricked her, and after she stepped out of the dress, you put it on your work table, getting what dress she came with and helping her slip back into it. 

“I will see you tomorrow then, in the afternoon, in case anything comes up,” you said and she smiled. 

“Tomorrow afternoon it is, Madame.” 

“Au revoir,” you gave her a small wave and again, she held her hands against her stomach. 

“Au revoir.” 

—

Violet wasn’t sure she’d ever gotten so many compliments on a dress as she had on what you’d made for her. There was something new and cutting about it and much to her surprise, it became very hard to book an appointment with either you or Madame Delacroix afterwards. 

News had spread to the rest of the ton of you and your talents, and everyone wanted a piece. 

It wasn’t until a few weeks later that Violet managed to get herself in for another appointment, needing a dress for a wedding along with a few odds and ends she thought with all this uncertainty she may as well get done now.

When she arrived at the modiste, it was overflowing with people. She never thought she had seen it so busy and she wondered if it was really all from that simple pink dress. Although the dress itself wasn’t necessarily simple, it was elegant in its style, its function, and of course, it had a certain je ne sais quoi.

“Lady Bridgerton,” you grinned, seeing Violet enter the shop. “I believe I have you to thank for all this business. Both Genviève and I do.” 

“Oh, I didn’t do any of the work,” she shook her head. “I simply wore it.” 

“And you wore it well, which is half of the battle,” you chuckled. “Come, I am always happy to see my favourite customer.” 

Violet’s heart warmed when you called her your favourite, a sense of pride overcoming her. Still out of all of the young debutantes and busy mamas, she somehow remained at the top of your list. 

When you arrived at your workspace, closing the door behind you and walking further inside and let out a small breath of air, a bright smile came over your face. 

“How can I help you today?” 

“I need a dress for a wedding,” she began, “along with a few other things.” 

“Such as?” you pressed. 

“Some clothes for the country, a few dresses for home, and some new night clothes. I was thinking perhaps a robe and a nightgown or two.” 

“Madame, you are keeping my hands busy,” you smiled. “Now I already have the measurements I will need for the dress, so we can pick fabrics, then maybe I can show you some things I have already made in case something catches your eye and we can make alterations and then fill in any gaps after.” 

“Sounds splendid to me,” she nodded. 

“Parfait,” you grinned and clapped your hands together. “What colour are you thinking for the dress you will wear to the wedding?” 

“I usually stick to blue,” she said. “It was the colour my late husband’s family used a lot, but…” she paused. 

“You’re thinking of something else,” you put your hands on your hips. “Purple.” 

“How did you know?” she looked at you a little astounded, a small chuckle coming past her lips, lacing her words with a certain playfulness. 

“A suspicion,” you shrugged with a teasing wink. “Now light or dark?”

“Light, it is getting warmer outside after all.” 

You rummaged through some things and pulled out a few swatches of fabric for her to choose from. 

“They are all nice,” Violet chewed on her lip while trying to decide. “What do you think?” 

You took a long look at the collection in front of you and then looked up at Violet, sizing up each swatch to the woman in front of you, fabricating the dress in your mind’s eye until you figured out which one you liked the most.

“This one, I think.”

You held out a simple silky fabric for her. 

“I can add something to it, a design, some beads,” you said. “But I like this colour on you.” 

“I will leave it up to you,” she said. “I am sure I will be happy with whatever you make. Surely, the rest of the ton is.” 

You chuckled and placed the fabric back down. 

“Now some of those other things,” you motioned for her to follow you. 

You showed her a few dresses to see what ones she might be interested in taking with her to the country. Some were made with simple cotton for days spent resting inside the house in the off season. Once she had decided which she liked, you set them aside to make sure they were properly fitted for her. 

“And nightclothes?” you asked. “What about something like this?” 

You pulled out a particularly sheer gown, probably meant for someone on their honeymoon, or maybe at the very least with someone to share it with. 

“Um,  I am not sure I am the right fit for that,” she chuckled nervously, knowing her resolve with you already wore thin, hoping you would accept her reasoning and move on to something more modest. 

“Why not?” you asked.

“I am a widow, Madame, I wouldn’t have anyone to wear it for,” she said truthfully. 

“You could wear it for yourself,” you said. 

Violet tilted her head and blinked, “Myself?” 

“Ben oui,” you nodded like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Who said you have to wear something for someone else?” 

Violet chewed on her cheek. She supposed she wasn’t really wearing anything for anyone but herself at the moment. 

“It is okay to wear something that makes you feel beautiful even if you are the only one to see it,” you reassured her. “If you do not think you would feel beautiful in this, now that is something different.” 

Violet pressed her lips together. It had been so long since she had worn something other than a simple cotton nightdress, but there was something alluring about wearing something that matched her desire, even if she would end up being the only one to see it. 

“And the fitting for this?” she asked. 

“We could do it right now, if you wish,” you said. 

“L-Like for alterations?” she looked at you wide-eyed.

“Mhmm,” you nodded, draping the dress over your arm, ignoring her surprise. 

She looked between the dress and herself a few times, contemplating whether or not she should do it, or more, whether she could handle it. 

Wearing it for herself was one thing, but wearing it in front of you was something else. 

She nervously scratched behind her ear, thinking in her mind that it might be best to pass on this for the moment, but when she opened her mouth to speak, she said,

“Alright then.” 

You smiled and turned to go back to where you would do the alterations and Violet blinked hard, processing what had just left her mouth. 

“Are you coming, Madame?” 

Violet looked over at you and nodded, slowly walking over to the platform. 

Similar to before, you helped her out of her dress, and she stood in front of you again in her corset and undergarments, but this time after her dress was placed off to the side, your fingers nimbly worked on the laces on her back, deftly loosening the material and unravelling it until it was loose around her. 

Violet, not quite ready to let go, held it up from the front, noticing her breathing becoming shakier by the second. 

“I can take that for you,” you extended your hand out for her corset and she swallowed thickly. 

It took her a few moments to remember how to work her hands again, carefully peeling the material away from her chest and handing it to you, unsure of what to do with her arms before deciding her best option was to cross them over her chest. 

When you returned, you came to stand in front of Violet, the nightgown in your hands, ready to help her put it on. You looked down at her crossed arms then back up at her blue eyes and her cheeks flushed before moving her hands and lifting them above her head so you could slip the fabric over her. 

The hem of the dress stopped at her knees, much shorter than anything she was used to wearing. The slight blue colour almost enhanced the sheerness of the fabric and Violet tried to take it all in, running a hand down her midsection, noticing how she could see her bellybutton.

She tried not to focus on how she could feel your gaze burning into what felt like her very soul. 

“What do you think of the fit?” she asked quietly. 

You pursed your lips. 

“I like how it fits around here,” you ran your hands along both sides of her waist down to her hips. “Less, up here.”

Your hands migrated to the fabric barely covering her breasts and she could have sworn she let out a small squeak, feeling your fingers brush against her. Her suspicion was confirmed when you spoke. 

“Everything alright, Madame?” you looked up at her. 

“Fine,” she whispered. 

“T’es sûre?” you murmured, stepping a little closer and adjusting the straps over her shoulders. 

“Mhmm,” she almost whimpered, pressing her lips together and looking up at the ceiling. “I’m fine, it is just a little chilly up here,” she said. “You know when you get cold, you um…you feel things more.” 

You nodded your head. 

“That is not to say it was cold before, I am just cold now because-” 

“Tais toi.” 

Violet blinked. 

“Excuse me?” 

“You heard me,” you looked up at her and placed a finger under her chin. “I said tais toi.” 

Despite Violet’s shock that you had essentially told her to shut up, she found herself speaking still.

“Really?” she began. “You won’t even use le vous poli?” she asked, referring to your less polite and more informal grammar choice. 

“Why would I use that when everything I want to do to you is very, very impolite?” you whispered, merely millimeters away from her mouth, your breath mingling with hers. 

Violet wasn’t sure what overcame her, she grabbed your hands, placing them over her breasts, her mouth agape as shaky breaths fanned over your face. 

With that permission, you brushed your thumbs on top of the fabric, over her nipples, her whimper deliciously clouding your senses, encouraging you to do it again. 

“If you are really so set on wearing this for someone,” you gripped her tighter, eliciting a surprised gasp, your lips travelling closer to her ear. “You could wear it for me, ma belle.” 

Violet hummed and leaned her head against yours, feeling you move along her until your foreheads were pressed together, noses brushing against each other. 

“We shouldn’t,” Violet breathed. 

“We shouldn’t,” you shook your head, still moving closer until you captured her lips with yours. Her hands found their way to your waist, narrowly avoiding your pin cushion, pulling you against her, your thumbs still gently massaging over her breasts, content hums and soft moans echoing in your mouth as you kissed her. 

When you pulled away, you pressed your forehead against Violet’s again, your eyes shut. 

“You have another appointment don’t you?” Violet whispered and you nodded and she had to bite back the whine that wanted to escape. 

“Come back tonight,” you murmured, your hands moving to hold both sides of Violet’s face, a reassurance. “Two doors down.” 

“W-What would I tell my carriage driver?” 

“Pick your most discreet one,” you whispered, pressing your lips to hers again in a much softer kiss. 

She nodded her head and when you pulled apart further and she opened her eyes, she could see you smiling back at her and she thought if you were so certain, maybe everything would be okay. 

It wasn’t until much later in the evening when Violet was standing outside your door, waiting for you to come and open it, that the reality of the situation fully set on her. She was caught in such a haze before, her stomach swirling with an all consuming nausea that was almost delightful. 

She felt her arms wrapping around herself tighter, nervously looking around to make sure there were no unwanted eyes watching her, until she heard the door open in front of her, bringing her attention back to the present. 

You were quick to wordlessly take her hand and bring her inside, closing the door behind you. 

“You are tense,” you remarked, holding her hand in both of yours, gently massaging its back with your thumbs. 

Violet was unsure of what to expect, but she did know wherever this led, she wanted to follow it, to chase that staggering violent feeling until she couldn’t take it any more. 

“I just didn’t want anyone to see,” she whispered. “I am fine.” 

You smiled. “Bien.” 

You helped her take off her cloak, biting your bottom lip when you saw what she was wearing underneath. 

“C’est jolie,” you hummed. “But I think I am more excited to see what is underneath.” 

Violet chuckled nervously, feeling a certain heat come to her cheeks. She let herself be pulled into you when you took your hand in hers, melting into the kiss that followed, allowing you to lead her through the hallway and into what she assumed was a bedroom. 

Her suspicions were fully confirmed when she felt the back of her legs hit a plush mattress, making her fall back, only to be gently lowered the rest of the way by you, now leaning over top of her. 

“W-Wait,” Violet whispered.

“Hmm?” you looked at her patiently. “Ça va?”

“What happens next?” she asked. 

“Do you want me to explain it to you?”

You tilted your head to look at her and she nodded. 

“First I take this off,” you murmured, working at the series of ribbons in the front of her dress that kept it tied shut. 

She watched as you undid each one, single handedly, revealing more and more of her bare skin until your hand came and fully pushed both parts of the fabric aside, leaving her exposed in front of you. 

“Then I listen,” you kissed her jaw. “Your breathing, your body, it…tells me things.” 

One hand moved to cup her breast and she sighed. 

“Like that,” you smiled. “And I follow that, I see where it takes me.”

You pinched her nipple between your thumb and pointer finger and she arched slightly into your touch. Carefully, you twisted it between your fingers, your mouth trailing its kisses down her neck and chest, until eventually your mouth replaced your fingers, tongue swirling and teeth grazing against the soft and sensitive flesh. 

Violet let out a breath of air, a whine caught in the back of her throat as she arched further into you, her hand coming to hold your head against her. 

With a gentle kiss, you paused your mouth’s movements, taking your hand from where it rested against her waist, dragging it across her stomach. 

“Next,” you began, “No, it is too vulgar in English,” you shook your head. 

“Tell me in French,” she begged. “Dit-le moi, s’il vous plaît.” 

You smiled and kissed her breast again. 

“Since you asked so nicely.” 

Your finger trailed a little lower, now tracing lines across the base of her stomach, the skin there soft and stretched from many pregnancies, and oh so precious. 

“Je prends mes doigts,” your fingers moved even lower, the blood pumping to Violet’s head so fast she thought she might faint. “Et je les appuie ici.”

“Oh!” she moaned, her head turned to the side, your thumb firmly against her, massaging in slow tantalizing and tortuous circles.

“Mais, je préfère les mettre comme ça.” 

Violet gasped, your name on her lips as she felt your fingers inside her, beginning a slow and steady pace that her body seemed to match with the movement of her hips. 

“Is this good, or do you want more?” you asked her, not stopping the movement of your hand and fingers. 

“More, please,” she breathed. 

“En Français, ma belle.” 

“S-S’il vous plaît.” 

“Bien sûre,” you smiled and increased your pace, fingers carefully searching until they found the intense response they were seeking from Violet. 

“There,” she nodded her head, eyes squeezed shut. “Mmm.” 

She pressed her lips together so tightly you could have sworn they went white. 

You listened to her instructions, continuing to work at that spot, leaning over top of her, feeling her breathing pick up with each fan of warm breath over your face. You pressed a few kisses to her jaw, your ear right next to her mouth, listening intently as breathing turned into moans that didn’t stop. 

You could feel the heat radiating off of every part of her, clouding your own senses, encouraging you further to push her over that edge, eager movements guiding her until her mind went blissfully blank, her back arched towards you while you slowed your hand, her breathing much more ragged than before until you carefully removed your fingers. 

Wiping them carefully on the sheets next to her, you then took her face in your hand, pressing a slow kiss to her lips. 

Violet hummed into your lips, like she wanted to say something so you pulled away, watching her finally open her eyes once more. 

“Can I?” she whispered. 

“Can you what, chèrie?” 

“Do that for you?” she asked. “Teach me.” 

You grinned, leaning down and capturing her lips in another kiss. 

When you pulled apart this time, she pushed herself up on her forearms, watching as you moved to sit next to her. She knew the first step, her hand brushing against the sleeve of your nightgown, pushing it off your shoulder, studying how your skin felt against her fingers. 

You took your arm out of your sleeve and waited for her to do the same with the opposite side before tugging the sides down until the fabric pooled at your hips. 

She leaned in to kiss you, guiding you to lie back on the mattress before her hands came back to the fabric, pulling it completely off of you. 

She took a moment to admire you in front of her, feeling that same intense pull towards you as she did when you had first become acquainted. 

With her lips against yours once more, she hooked her fingers around the top of your underwear, pulling it down as her lips detached from yours so she could finish the job. 

She leaned over top of you, her brown hair falling in waves on either side of her head, the soft fabric of her robe-like dress, creating a curtain around her, but her body still on full display for you. 

You couldn’t help but reach out and snake a hand around her waist, your thumb brushing back and forth in small motions. 

“Tell me,” she whispered. “What do I do next?” 

You moved your hand up from her waist tracing along her side and down her arm, until her wrist was in your hands. 

“You can touch me here.”  

You placed her hand on your breast. “Or here.” 

Your hand moved hers lower, only hovering over your core. 

“Or anywhere that feels right when you listen.” 

She nodded her head slowly, your hand finishing its guidance as she watched with bated breath, your eyes closed anticipatorily, small shaky breaths coming past your lips as her fingers made contact and you finally let go of her wrist. 

Violet tucked some of her hair behind her ear with her free hand before letting herself feel and explore you. 

She paid close attention, listening to what sounds filled the air, a small smile coming to her lips when you moaned her name. 

She moved so her thumb replaced her fingers, continuing to brush against that spot that seemed to make your face twist and contort in beautiful ways she’d never seen before. 

Violet became curious, her other hand moving to cup your breast, brushing her thumb over your nipple, noticing the new reaction it had brought, a groan and a plea for more. 

Both of her thumbs worked in tandem on different parts of your body, pulling your focus in two directions, back and forth with no end in sight.

Violet was entranced by you, squirming slightly under her touch, the fact that she was the one making you feel this way, like you had no control. The only thing possible for you to do was let her know how much you wanted, no, needed her. 

“Violet,” you whimpered. “Please, m-more.” 

Violet smiled devilishly and leaned down, her lips ghosting your ear. 

“En Français.”

“S’il vous plaît, Violet, mon Dieu,” you groaned before she increased the intensity of her ministrations. 

Her hand moved from your breast up to your face, holding it up so she could kiss you as her thumb worked against you, a warmth spreading in her stomach as you moaned into her mouth, your hips meeting her touch until you were gripping onto Violet for dear life as the only hope of reminding yourself you were, in fact, still on earth. 

She stopped a little more abruptly than you would have liked, still thrumming with pleasure, and holding her close. 

“Was that right?” she teased and when you finally looked up at her, grabbing her chin with your thumb and forefinger, pulling her down in a kiss, your last words, a mutter against her lips. 

“Tais toi.” 

TAGLIST —

@paola-carter @madde11 @thesamesweetie @cherrysxuya @philocalistwrites @mako-mermaids2021 @oh-mydarling @courtneyteal @amethyst-bitch

my favorite thing about agatha all along is actually that in every episode, agatha is the pep talk giver. her pep talks have a 100% success rate and have saved their asses during every single trial. and she would hate this fact. she would try so hard to stop giving pep talks and then find herself at the closest high school spirit rally gearing them up to win the big game. anti hero is literal here she is ANTI hero. no more heroic antics she says while telling billy that he tried his best and a little murder never hurt anyone. okay queen i see your pom poms and whistle 💜

I wanna tie her up and take her so bad my switch go rahhhhh when I see her 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

this is ab shifting. you cant convince me otherwise.

Clingy Wanda Maximoff head canons

Needed some Wanda snuggles! What can I say? Let’s get into it!

When Wanda wakes up feeling especially clingy, she wraps her arms tightly around you and nuzzles her face into your neck. It’s the coziest feeling in the world, and you can’t help the smile on your face as you bury your fingers in her soft hair. She’s very good at snuggling.

If Wanda wants even more attention, she creates what you affectionately call the ‘Wanda Bubble’. It’s her way of staying close to you throughout the day and not letting you stray too far. Whether you’re watching TV, cooking, or just lounging around, she finds a way to stay physically connected. Playing with your hair or resting her head on your shoulder are her personal favorites… A couple of times she’s even climbed onto your back like a koala while you take care of a few things around the house T^T

Wanda has this sweet habit of leaving little surprises for you. It could be a heartfelt note on your pillow or a cup of your favorite coffee waiting for you in the kitchen. It means the world to see how she shows her love even when you two are apart.

Sometimes, Wanda pouts playfully when she needs affection. It’s okay, though. She’s so adorable and you’d never be able resist giving her all the cuddles she wants… And when her lower lip starts to wobble? You fix it with a kiss.

Wanda also loves to hear reassurances and affirmations from you. While I definitely think that physical touch is her favorite way to receive affection, affirmations are a close second. You remind her how much you love her, how special she is to you, and how lucky you are to have her in your life. Her little cheeks turn rosy as she listens to your soothing voice.

Wanda insists on having movie marathons with you. You both curl up on the couch, surrounded by blankets and pillows, and she lies her head on your chest, sighing contentedly. She often lets you pick the movies… But to be honest, she rarely pays full attention to the screen anyway. Having you close is all she really focuses on.

Wanda is never shy about showing affection in public, especially when she’s feeling clingy with you. Holding hands has become the norm, no matter where you two are. She loves intertwining your fingers as you walk, shop, or even just sit at a cafe. Oh, yeah. The 'Wanda Bubble’ follows you just about everywhere…

While Wanda admittedly does the majority of the cooking for you both, when she’s feeling a little vulnerable, she asks you to make her favorite comfort foods. You both share a meal together and then she curls up in your arms, seeking that extra bit of warmth and love from you.

It brings you a deep sense of satisfaction to know that you bring her so much comfort. You’d do anything for her.

Masterlist

Sun child abilities

Sun children are radiant beings filled with the warmth and energy of sunlight. Their presence is uplifting and comforting. Known for their gentle strength and resilience, they bring light to dark places and hope to troubled hearts. They have two forms just like Moon children, one for solstices and the other for eclipses. Just like the sun, they are a source of life, warmth, and joy to everyone they meet.

Abilities

Solar healing - Sun children can heal themselves or others by channeling sunlight, accelerating recovery and restoring energy.

Solar energy absorption - users can absorb sunlight to boost their strength, speed, or energy, especially during the day.

Heat resistance - users are naturally resistant to heat, able to withstand extreme temperatures without harm.

Heat generation - users can raise their body temperature, providing warmth in cold environments or creating small bursts of heat to defend themselves.

Solar aura - users have a warm, golden aura that radiates around them, bringing comfort or calming those nearby.

Sunlit visions - users can receive visions or flashes of insight when exposed to sunlight, sometimes foreseeing events or gaining guidance.

Solar navigation - users instinctively know the time of day and direction based on the position of the sun, making them expert navigators.

Weather influence - users can part clouds or summon sunny weather for a short time, bringing brightness to overcast days.

Shape shifting - They have three forms and pass from one to another. They have a human, solstice and eclipse form.

Solar magic

Light manipulation

Characteristics

Golden or sunkissed skin

Light hair - natural golden or honey-like hues.

Bright eyes - often vibrant shades of amber, gold, or warm brown.

Golden sparkles in tears - When they cry, their tears might glimmer with a golden tint, like sunlight catching on water droplets. Their tears have a healing effect. (Rapunzel vibes)

Freckles or sunspots, rosy cheeks

Comforting presence

Slightly warmer touch

Aura of light - In darkness or at dusk, they may emit a faint glow.Their shadows sometimes carry a hint of gold or light, rather than pure darkness.

Energized by sunlight

Golden fingertips - slightly tinted with a gold or amber hue, especially when using their powers.

Golden veins or patterns - Some may have faint golden patterns or veins visible under their skin, like lines of sunlight just beneath the surface.

Solstice form:

Eclipse form:

@shiftingwithmars thank you for answering to the post, it helped a lot ❤️

rio so funny to me bcs shes so kitty. getting more annoying when she gets ignored. always pawing at agatha. hissing at strangers. definitely knocks shit off tables for attention. staring at the wall for 3 hours unblinking making u think she Knows something u don’t…. licks agatha to heal her wounds. Which is basically bathing. Outdoor cat behavior when she vanishes for a week and makes u think shes dead and then shows up yowling at 3am. Sad animal guy who loves his wife😞