#1800-navigation

[ltwilliammowett]

Terrestrial pocket globe, c. 1800

Geographical details on the sphere show California drawn as peninsular. Australia and New Zealand are completely outlined, and a few European cities are labelled including, for example, 'London', 'Paris' and 'Madrid'. Australia and New Zealand are drawn according to Cook's explorations, which indicate a date after 1780 and Tasmania is still a peninsula, indicating a date before 1805. There is no hypothetical southern continent. A total of three oceans are named.

[nickysfacts]

Happy New Year Everyone!

🎉🎊🎉

I hope you all had a amazing 2023 and will have a amazing 2024!

🍾🥂🍾

[oscargender]

Had the most. Specific dream

[corvidcrafts273]

hey wait

Guardian of the eastern gate

And the most east place on earth(before the discovery of america and all that) is the British isles

Is that why aziraphale, being the guardian of the eastern gate, has been stationed in london?

[shinyspanishgem]

A Batlantern meet cute, except it's out of costume. Pre-Identity reveal.

Hal Jordan is visiting Gotham, because he's not allowed to when he's Green Lantern, as a mental 'gotcha!' towards mr-getoutofmycity Batman ( + basic tourism, they have the best pizza places after all)

Then, of course, he's lost. The streets of Gotham are a natural labyrinth where google maps hasn't fully rendered it. And so he had grabbed a physical map, old fashioned, but it did the work.

Until he got to a specific district, rapidly developed and not up to date in the map he got. He winged it, following where people were going, and ended up in some random opening event.

Deciding he does not want to waste his morning there, he approaches the first person he sees, tall dark and elegant features register in Hal's head, but after tapping his shoulder he looks down at his map.

Bruce Wayne turns around, and sees a handsome brunette looking down at a map like it's the 1800's, lost in a city where looking slightly distracted WILL get your wallet stolen, asking him if he knows how to get the hell out of this boring event, not seemingly aware he's talking to both the main attraction of said event and Bruce fucking Wayne.

He's smitten immediately, offering his best advice on how to navigate the city, he takes a pen out of his suit and draws around the "can't miss" spots of the city, proud to show it off. Hal nods and jokes with him a bit, his "so, come here often?" gets a genuine snort out of Bruce.

He glances at the event, and decides he'll probably have a better time with the man, he walks Hal around Gotham that morning, they get coffee, and talk about their lives, all the while trying to not tell the other too much (I'm a pilot instead of a superhero vs I'm a business man instead of The Wayne/vigilante)

They get an alert on their coms, they have an JL meeting in five minutes, so they give eachother their phones and plan on going-

But then, they keep walking towards the same direction.

But it's not awkward! They laugh and just keep making conversation, silently happy they get some extra minutes together.

Then, they get to the same teleporter to get back at the JL base...

Hal freaks out, Does Bruce know? Or Is he just following him unaware of where they were going?

Bruce scans in his brain who Hal could be, if indeed he's here for the same reason, it doesn't take much time, he sighs and just gets in, "Not a word, Lantern, not a word"

Hal is both proud and horrified he's the first to know Batman's identity, especially after searching who Bruce Wayne is. But he really wanted to keep talking to Bruce...

Bruce is mourning his meet cute.

[madamechrissy]

Silent Serenades

♔ An arranged Marriage with Duke Gojo ♔

♔ Pairings: Satoru Gojo x you - in this chap it's Satoru Gojo x mistress, Nanami x you It's messy and will get messier :)

♔ Warnings: Sex, infidelity, mentions of past self harm, disordered eating of the reader, descriptions of reader physically (just ties in with the story here) panic attacks, cheating on both ends, cruelty from Duke Gojo, cunnilingus, fingering, slapping, toxic attraction. OOC. ANGST. Say hello to Mr. Nanami again hehe. Gojo is TERRIBLE still, you're warned

♔ Word count this chap: 8.8k

♔ Summary: you are the diamond of the season, he is the charming Duke, it’s the marriage of the decade. Prominent families joining, and it so happens that Duke Gojo is gorgeous. But, he doesn't want you, and now you're trapped in a loveless arranged marriage. Royal AU, dark bridgerton vibes, Cruel Gojo x reader. OOC Set in 1800s England. Gojo is awful at first, HEAVY angst Basically- Gojo is a royal dick and doesn't wanna marry you

Taglist open

Part Three ♔ Masterlist ♔ Playlist

Part Four

One week Later

“It’s a deformed bunny, disgusting.” Duke Gojo says, shivering in disgust as you now are the proud owner of a pretty little Pomeranian, courtesy of Lord Geto and Lady Shoko, who are both standing in front of you now. You gasp, glaring at him, looking haughty in his pristine white suit.

“It is not! He’s beautiful, aren’t you baby?” You coo, caressing the soft white fur of the puppy. Satoru rolls his blue eyes, white lashes fluttering as he does.

“He sort of looks quite like you, Satoru.” Shoko says then with a snicker, and Gojo glares at her, as Geto pets the puppy along with you, before kissing your cheek, earning a furious glare from Gojo.

“Excuse me, Sugu, what are you doing?”

“What, you said you don’t even like her. What would you care?” Suguru pecks your cheek again, and you giggle, eyes glittering as you look up at him, putting your hand on his shoulder as he grins.

“You’ll respect me in my home, thank you very much. No decorum.” Gojo gets scoffed at by all three of you then, as his Mistress slinks down the winding staircase, and Shoko bursts out in laughter. “Excuse me?”

“You’re not excused. Really, she was my servant!? I wondered where she went… she was stealing all my silverware.” The Mistress blushes then, and you can’t stop your giggle. Shoko is gorgeous, with tired, dark eyes and dark hair piled high, you errantly notice Suguru eyeing her just a bit here and there, and you look between the two.

Hmm, they would look good together, wouldn't they?

You know they’ve always been friends, the three of them, and if you could save anyone the pain of a loveless marriage you would. You put the puppy down then, as Shoko smacks Satoru in the back of the head, making him duck down in pain, before snatching him up by the ear. His mistress runs off now, clearly reading the room, she was also afraid of you.

It’s odd, you were too nice to one, then apparently too mean to the other. Navigating Satoru’s Mistresses was difficult.

“Ow, you little-” Satoru huffs, bringing your attention back to Shoko wailing on him now.

“You’re such a royal asshole. Maybe I’ll smack some sense into you. Inviting a Mistress to dinner? Flaunting her?” Satoru glares at Suguru then, who just shrugs, a smile on his handsome features.

“You told her everything!?” He demands, and Suguru just gives a little nod, as Shoko drags him into another room.

“She’s amazing.” You say in admiration, and Suguru chuckles into his hand a bit, before brushing back your hair fondly.

“Told you I’d bring a gift.” You lean up, pecking his cheek then, watching his high cheekbones flush.

“You did, and the best gift ever, oh Lord Geto you’re so amazing.” You hold his hand tightly, as the memories of your kiss hit. You flush a bit yourself as he grips your hand and brushes his lips gently.

“Suguru, please my Lady. We’re close now, you know.” He says huskily, and you feel your pulse race at his intent.

“Indeed, we are. But… may I say, you and Lady Shoko? You both would make such a couple.” He flushes more now, looking away and clearing his throat.

“We are just friends, Duchess.”

“Mmm, marriages are built off worse. Look at me.” Suguru frowns now, sighing as he looks down at you. “You both are of high status as well. Just something to consider, I’d hate for you to feel something like this.”

“The difference is, I would try in a marriage, not… whatever the fuck Satoru’s dumbass is doing.”

“I know you would. Well, ignore me, I seem to think I’m a matchmaker, and look at me. I’m here missing his old mistress.” Suguru’s lips part, then he glares.

“What now?”

“Catherine left because I was too nice, but I quite got along with her.” You say, and Suguru swipes his hand on his face.

“You should hate any woman who lays with your husband, and so blatantly.”

“I only hate him.” You say, and he sighs, nodding a bit.

“You’re too good of a woman, you know that? Like some pretty angel.” You shake your head, but he tilts your chin up then, brushing a thumb across your jaw line, and looks at you with those warm chocolate eyes.

“You’re too good of a man, Suguru.” He smirks a bit.

“First name, finally hmm? Scandalous.” You giggle again, as Satoru and Shoko come back in, and Satoru has a hilarious handprint on his pretty face. He glares over at the two of you, and Shoko smiles.

“What are you naming the dog, Duchess?” She asks teasingly, and you look at Satoru, then down at the pretty puppy, his tongue lolling out.

“I’ll name it Satoru.” Satoru gasps then.

“What!?” At the Duke’s angry yell, Shoko and Suguru fall into fits of laughter, as you all watch him lose it. “You’ll not name an ugly bunny after me, you damned bratty girl.”

“Why not, it does look at you. Look at this expression!” You pick the puppy up, and it tilts his head curiously, ears perking up as his tongue lolls, earning Shoko and Suguru bent over in laughter, nearly in tears, as Gojo steps up to you now, seething in his anger.

“You have no right to say anything like that to me, damned brat. Calling me a dog!”

“You do act like a dog. Not a well behaved one though. One I’d have to put outside for pissing on the floor and humping furniture.” You say then, and he’s furious now, as you scowl right up at him, and Shoko and Suguru are doubled over.

“You dare think you can insult me?” He demands, and now it grows more serious, you roll your eyes at him, snuggling your puppy then. “You?”

"It's just a name, Satoru. And quite frankly, he's a lot more charming than his namesake." His jaw sets now, as he looks down at you, where you’re holding the happy puppy.

“Insolent damn brat, as if you-”

“None of that, especially in front of me. Before I smack you for her.” Suguru says now, and Gojo rolls his eyes.

“Fine, you all bring her a stupid pup and insult me? Have you both not been my friends since childhood?” He asks them, and they glare simultaneously.

“As your friends we will be honest, it’s what we promised. This… it’s unacceptable. If you dislike this beauty so much, let her have an annulment, why hurt her so?” Shoko says, and you tense as Satoru laughs, darkly.

“Even my friends just adore you. You’re so perfect, aren’t you?” He demands, stepping even closer, filling your senses with his energy, and you step back now, needing space before you slap him yourself.

“I’m so tired of hearing that. Perfect. I am no such thing, clearly, as you tell me my flaws daily. Now, I think I’ll take this precious cutie on a walk.” You say, hugging Shoko then, and she hugs you back tightly, then hugging Suguru, pulling back to hold their hands. “Thank you both so much, I shall treasure this.”

“It’s nothing, Duchess.” Suguru kisses your hand again, and you smile softly, looking between them then.

“Will you be at the masquerade tomorrow? Together?” You tease, earning their blushes, as they look away.

“Dance with him? No way.” Shoko says, crossing her arms, and Suguru glares then.

“What’s wrong with dancing with me?”

“You’re Suguru!”

“And!?”

You’re snickering now. “Listen, just a thought. Suguru, will you save me a dance as well?”

“Of course I will, Duchess. Shoko… I’m a very good dancer, excuse me?” He then says to Shoko, and she rolls her eyes, waving at you as you head out with a satisfied smile, pulling the puppy along. Satoru stops you at the giant doors then, making you pause as you look up at him.

“I’m taking Satoru for a walk, Duke Gojo.” You say, earning an even harsher glare from him now, you hold in your laughter at it.

“Where will you be? I wonder. Under a man like a whore?” You laugh then, you can’t help it, earning him gripping your waist then, over your pretty blue bodice. It burns through your layers, you hate it so, your eyes narrow.

“Me, a whore? Go peer in that looking glass, Duke. I’ve watched you fuck three women in a couple weeks. I’m still a virgin.” He gulps then, eyes drinking you in, those long white lashes darting down your body, making you furious at the effect, fuck you wish your body would align with your mind.

His hand squeezes now, and you smack at it angrily. “And how long will you be a virgin I wonder?” He bites out, vitriol in every word.

“It’s none of your concern, dear husband. You just try to keep this mistress, they seem to run from you don’t they?” You whisper, tapping his lower lip now, and he snarls as you saunter out the door. “Farewell!”

Now here you are, in front of Nanami Kento’s apartments, along with your puppy, Satoru. You are nervous as you stand there, wondering just what you are thinking, would he even remember you? Was it some fun for him you wonder, and are you insane to be here!?

You’re a duchess, a married woman at that, clutching your thin blue cloak over your body, as your little dog named after your cruel husband is running around your ankles, wrapping the leash in a circle. You gasp then, as he’s firmly trapping you, just as Nanami Kento opens the door, and finds you tied up by your own dog, and he can’t help but laugh.

“Duchess… do you need my assistance?” He asks softly, and you drink him then, he has an apron on and flour dusted along his pants. You are flushed, so embarrassed as Satoru keeps running.

“Please, Mr. Nanami, could you assist?” You ask then, and he bends down, unclipping the leash from little Satoru and letting him inside, before he yanks you in as well, making you breathless.

“I told you, anything you require.” He says then, slowly unwrapping the leash from around you, his hazel eyes glinting with amusement as he unwraps you gently, until the leash is in his big hands. You notice bruises and scrapes on the back of them as he hands it to you. “All fixed now, Duchess.”

“Thank you Mr. Nanami. My hero.” You tease, then you inhale something sweet in the air, sighing. “Are you baking, Sir?”

“I am making cookies. Would you care to help? I could teach you.” He says, and you giggle then, putting the leash down and taking off your cloak, not missing the desire in his eyes as he looks at you.

“I actually am a skilled baker. I would love to help. What kind of cookie?” You ask, and watch his thin blond brows raise.

“You can bake? You’re… a noble, though…”

“My parents always let me bake, I quite love that, and cooking. Is it so surprising, Mr. Nanami?” You ask then, and he smiles softly, tired eyes getting hazy.

“You endlessly surprise me, my Lady. Come then, I have an extra apron, that dress is too beautiful to dirty.” He says softly, and you flush under his gentle praise, taking his hand and letting him lead you into his kitchen. “I did not know you were coming, I’m sorry my place must seem so small to you.”

“It’s lovely, Mr. Nanami.” Your voice is soft, as your eyes drink him in, his khaki trousers so covered in flour it’s quite adorable. You smile a bit at just how handsome he looks like this, as your dog is happily running around you both. “Please, know that I am not a typical noble. I quite enjoy your home.”

“Thank you… you’re absolutely not typical. I think that’s the furthest thing from how I would describe you.” He holds a white linen apron then, as he smiles down at you gently. “I’d describe you as… one of a kind.”

“Is that good or bad, Sir?” You ask, and Nanami chuckles a bit, as he ties the apron around you, and you tense as he’s behind you, his breath tickling your ear as he bends down.

“It’s a good thing. May I loosen this some, so you’re comfortable?” He asks, you nod then, shyly, and he’s so sweet as you turn and lift your hair. You feel his hands tremble just a bit as they trail down your back, between your shoulder blades. “You’re so tiny.”

“Am I to you? Maybe because you’re so big.” You tease, and he exhales then, one hand splaying the expanse of your back.

“No, you are Darling.” He says then, husky as he runs a finger down your spine gently, you shiver at how good it feels. “You don’t really need a corset you know.”

“I certainly do. I’ll plump up when eating your cookies.” You tease, but he hears it, the fear in your voice, and he grips you then, a hand on either side of your waist, as emotions hit, thinking of how much Satoru’s tiny words have affected your views.

“Do you fear eating truly? You’re in the wrong household, I’ll be shoving all sorts of sweets in your mouth.” He murmurs then, and you exhale, eyes shutting as you feel him, every bit of this man behind you.

“I do enjoy sweets.” You whisper, turning to him then, your corset loose on your back, revealing more of your breasts to his view, and you watch that Adam’s apple bob up and down as he gulps, his big hands sliding up your ribcage.

“Has he lied to you so much you think you can’t eat?” He whispers, hurt stark in his voice for you, and you sigh, looking down.

“It was a mere comment or two, he has taken them back. I think I just let them hurt me too much, let them get to me.” You murmur, frowning a bit at such a realization now.

“How wouldn’t that hurt? Well I assure you, your body is perfect. And you can eat what you wish around me.” He says so softly, making you blink back tears.

“Nanami…” You lean up to kiss him then, and fuck it feels so good, so natural to kiss this man here, and fuck isn’t he a man. He’s holding you with those sure hands, kissing you so gently in return, his firm lips brushing against yours, before his talented tongue consumes your mouth, making you gasp.

He moans then, picking you up with ease, pressing you along the taupe kitchen wall, and you’re left so breathless at the ease in which he handles you. You cling to him then, as your thighs wrap his hips, and you feel that heat even between your skirts, as he leans back and cups your face so delicately.

“I want you so badly I can’t focus. I thought you were just another dream last week.” He whispers, and you whimper, from the back of your throat, making him moan softly, kissing you again, over and over, as you grind tentatively, forcing a groan from him now. He holds your hips firmly. “Darling…”

“Yes, Mr. Nanami?” Your lips are covered again, his hands gripping your ass through layers of crinoline and petticoats.

“I’ll eat you instead of the cookies.” You giggle then, it feels so damn good to be in his embrace, so comfortable and perfect.

“Please, let’s bake, then we’ll… um, continue.” He exhales, letting you down gently, brushing you against his entire body, so hard and muscular, and you find your pussy just throbbing around nothing, dripping wet under your dress.

“I will surely try to focus, darling. You make it difficult.” You both laugh softly, and soon you are cooking together, side by side, shoulders brushing. He hands you flour, then sugar, and you’re mixing them carefully with a whisk. “You are the prettiest baker I’ve seen.”

“Am I, Sir? You do go on.” You are swirling the dough now, smiling up at him brightly, met with his little smirk, that lights up his handsome face.

“You have a little flour here.” He laps his tongue along the side of your lip, and you suck in a breath. He then leans back, hazel eyes so hazy, those blond lashes lowering. “Better.”

“Much better.” You agree, your pulse is racing, and he’s behind you now, wrapping his strong arms around your delicate waist. He helps you form the dough, kneading it with both of your hands touching, covered in flour, and it’s so intimate you can scarcely function.

The kitchen is so warm, filled with the sweet aroma of sugar and vanilla, and the rhythmic sounds of kneading dough and crackling firewood from Nanami’s living room. You’re in front of him now, swallowed by his huge frame, as Nanami’s breath whispers against your neck with his instruction, sending shivers down your spine as his hands guide yours.

“You’re doing so good, Darling.” He encourages, and those words from him continue to ignite a flame as hot as that fire now, to the point you feel sweat beading on your forehead. You wipe it with the back of your hand as he takes that hand, pressing his lips against it. “You smell more delectable than these cookies.”

“No, Sir I do not!” You giggle, and his gentle touch is both comforting and electrifying, and it’s all you can do to keep your wits about you as you shape the cookies together, his hands on yours.

“I bet you taste better.” He says, so husky, your hands pause as your heart thumps in your chest, looking back up at him, and he’s pressed against you now, you feel something so hard on your back now. You’re a blushing mess as you wonder at it, as you wonder about his body.

What does it look like? You can feel those muscles, you see how his shirts stretch across them…

You catch a glimpse of your reflection in the polished copper pots hanging on the wall, your cheeks flushed with desire, your eyes dark with need, and you’ve never seen yourself like this. The warmth of Nanami is a stark contrast to the chilly reception you get from your actual husband, the Duke, and you can’t help but lean back into him, feeling his hardness press against your lower back firmer and harder, making him gasp then.

“Duchess… you’ll be the death of me.” He murmurs then, making you arch up more, one hand sliding up to cup the side of his face, pulling it down to you.

“Nanami Kento, I cannot quite focus on baking these cookies. You’re so distracting, you know.” He chuckles, vibrating against your body, as the cookies begin to take shape.

“Ah, forgive me Duchess. You’re rather distracting as well. So, may I ask how you know to bake, as someone so high up in status?” He asks, and you sigh a bit, eyes fluttering in pleasure as you feel his warmth enwrapping you.

“My parents always let me go into the kitchens. My Nan taught me so much, she was like my parent, honestly. I find cooking so calming.”

“Hmm, it’s very impressive.”

“Is it? It’s just a hobby, Sir.”

“Everything about you is impressive.” You become more and more aware of his arousal, and it’s clear he’s fighting to keep his thoughts from straying, to keep his touches polite, as your mind goes awry.

Nanami’s breath hitches every time your body brushes his, and when you finally turn to face him, as your cookies are placed in the oven, you see the desire in his eyes is mirrored in your own. You place your flour-covered hand on his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath the fabric. He looks at you, the intensity of his gaze making your knees wobble.

“Nanami, I-” you start, but he cuts you off with a gentle finger to your lips.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” He whispers, the house silent now, aside from the snoring of your dog and that fireplace, and the whirling of the oven. “You’re so beautiful it makes me ache.”

“Thank you, I…” You yank off your apron then, watching his lips part as he watches your fingers go to your bodice. “Nanami, please.”

“Please what, my darling?” He helps you take off your bodice now, moaning as he looks at your body, as he then starts unzipping your skirts with sure fingers.

“Touch me. Please.” You’re begging, but you don’t care, you can think of nothing more you want than Mr. Nanami to touch you, to taste you, to feel you. He groans, helping you step out of your skirts, left in just your chemise. His breaths come out in heavy pants as his eyes study you.

“You’re so beautiful. Dear God. Do I deserve to see you?” He slides down your chemise then, leaving you bare, and for a moment you tense, but he holds your arms open, hands sliding down the sides of your breasts, making your nipples taut. “Please don’t hide, you’re so perfect.”

Perfect.

Are you? Is that a compliment?

You shove that back, gulping then, throat dry as he’s sliding sure hands down the nip of your waist now, before gripping your hips, his thumbs pressing into your pelvis, and you’re melting. His sure hands tremble just slightly, as he leans so close, bending down, his lips against your ear.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve seen.”

“You, handsome sir, are too nice to me.”

“It’s true. I would not lie. Fuck, and I’m the first to see you fully?” You hear it, the question and desire.

“Fully, yes. Um… I’m so nervous.” You admit, then squeal a bit as he picks you up in his arms, bridal style, the way Satoru Gojo should have held you the first night, but no.

“Duke Gojo…” You stand there at the threshold of your new home, Gojo Manor, and Satoru raises a brow, smirking sardonically.

“Expect me to carry you? Absolutely not. Don’t think I want the back pain, let alone you in my arms.” You’re trembling at that, tears filling your eyes. You look down then, feeling so unwanted, so insecure.

“I just thought this was a tradition.” You say, voice hoarse, and Satoru scoffs, walking in ahead of you.

“I’d rather not suffer having you in my arms.” He strides away then, leaving you at the doorway, devastated.

“Darling, you’re crying.” Nanami whispers, as you realize you’re now in his immaculate bedroom, it’s spotless, aside from some of his ties and spectacles along a white dresser. You cling to him, arms around his neck now, trying to bring your focus to him.

“I was having a bad memory. You’re fixing it.” You say then, and he kisses you, so passionately, until you’re on your back, his bed creaking slightly as he straddles you, completely naked as he’s fully dressed. Your hips buck up, back arching for more and more of his caresses. “Oh, Nanami…”

“Kento.” He corrects softly, hands slipping down your hips to grip your ass, spreading your cheeks and exposing more of your eager cunt, dripping. You’re whimpering as your eyes lock with his.

“Kento.” His name on your lips does him in, he’s slamming that mouth back down, kissing away every thought and fear you have, and your arms wrap around his neck now, pulling him down for more and more of his expert kisses.

“My darling, may I please taste you?” He asks huskily, kissing down your throat now, you cry out as his hand slides down your soft tummy, splaying it before a thumb brushes down the lips of your sex.

“Oh my god!” You scream out when he touches you somewhere, so sensitive it makes you feel overheated, it makes your body twitch in response. “What is that, Kento?”

“One of your spots, darling. And fuck… you’re so wet.” He whispers, making you cry out even more, trembling violently as he rubs little circles, kissing down your waist and peering up at you with his eyes, full of desire.

“Feels s’good.” You whine, making him grip you tighter with his free hand, as he continues to circle your clit, before sliding his finger down, inside you. You gasp at the sensation of feeling so full suddenly, dripping down his thick finger. “Oh my… it’s s’good, I-”

“You’re so tight. Mmm.” He huffs as he crooks his finger up, hitting some spot that makes you blinded then, seeing black and glittery stars. You’re feeling waves of pleasure wash over you, as your hands clutch Nanami’s soft blankets, the heels of your feet digging into his bed, as he kisses lower, lower. “You smell so good too, heavenly… fuck.”

“What are you… you’re… Kento!” You scream out then, hands enwrapping in his sandy blond hair as he kisses you where he just touched. “Huh? Wha-”

“I want to taste you, darling. Please… if you want.” He spreads your thighs with sure hands now, and you’re dripping out of your little hole, as the cool air of his room hits you, as he’s got those lips parted, devouring you with a gaze. “You’re so beautiful… your cunt…”

“My… cunt?” You whisper, and he sighs, tickling your cunt now, making you jump at it.

“Your cunt, your pussy… this.” He kisses it again, and you’re falling back into the bed, hips rising up for more, more. “You taste so good, darling.”

“Y-you wanna… um… taste me there?” You ask nervously, garnering his light laugh, as he spreads the plump lips of your sex, licking his full lower lip.

“I want to taste you everywhere, darling. But only if you want.” You exhale, struggling to compose yourself, as he’s laying between your thighs, looking so sexy now, looking at you with such desire you can’t take it. It overwhelms you, how beautiful you feel, versus how you feel at home.

With the man that scoffs at you, that downs you, but for one moment had said one nice thing… that your breasts were perfect. And you, so stupid, had avoided seeing Nanami all week, feeling so awful, as Satoru fucks his mistress in the room next to you. You were so stupid, so desperate for just one bit of affection you’d take even the crumbs.

Until today, when you knew you needed to see Nanami, to be in his arms, so strong and sure, to feel his presence, calming and intoxicating. Your hands cup his face now, garnering his kiss on your palm, his hands pressing on the backs of your thighs, spreading you and making you blush as his silky hair tickles your inner thigh.

“Please taste me, Nanami Kento. I want you to.”

“Oh my… Oh my god, darling.” He says huskily then, you know he was waiting for that, for your permission, and he’s swiping his tongue up your slit, and fuck it feels so good you scream out, embarrassingly loud, hips rising up for more, more.

“Ngh, oh my-ah!” You cry out, weakly, while Nanami is lapping your wetness up, as it drools from your eager cunt, then his tongue is inside you, and your walls are fluttering around it. His big hands grip your thighs roughly, squeezing them, pressing against the muscles there. You’re falling apart, as his nose bumps your clit, as he’s moaning and vibrating against you.

He’s licking higher, and your eyes are rolling back, as now the tip of his tongue begins to flick under your clit, over and over, quick gentle flicks that consume you. Your hands tangle in his hair, and you find yourself pulling it, shoving him against you, for more of it. His eyes, glinting green in the soft light coming from his blinds, stare up at you as he works you like an instrument.

Your pleasure starts building, until it feels like your body is on fire, and you scream out, with so much force, your voice gets hoarse and breaks in the middle. You feel yourself fading more and more, until it’s just him, the sexy noises as he practically drinks you, and he’s pulling back for just a moment, sliding his finger back in, pumping it in and out.

“Kento… I’m… something…” You can’t describe it, the pressure about to break now, and Nanami exhales, making you jump from the breath hitting you, as he watches you so carefully, your every expression.

“You’re so close, I feel you. Let go, darling, let go. I have you.” He whispers, and then he slurps away your sweetness, his tongue stroking upwards, and that’s when you topple over that edge.

You’re crying out, your toes curling as your body jolts with the force of your orgasm, overtaking your every sense. You see stars behind your eyes as it explodes, as you’re trembling from how hard you’re cumming, breasts heaving, your little hands pulling his hair, as your cunt is soaking Nanami Kento’s handsome face.

He’s moaning, drinking it up, his eyes never leaving yours as he watches you cum, watching you shatter for him. “Yes, darling, that’s it. You’re doing so good.”

Fuck.

Nanami doesn’t stop, even as your hips are bucking and jolting, he continues to lick and suck, his hands squeezing your ass, your thighs, his tongue pushing into you, and you’re sobbing, feeling so full you can’t take it. You’re muttering nonsensically, pulling at him, as he pushes you again.

“Too much, Kento… ah-ah-ah!” You scream again, shaking now, as he slips two fingers inside of you, leaning up, and his lips are a breath away. “K-Kento…”

“You’re beautiful cumming, I knew it. I knew I’d love to watch this pretty face. All flushed for me.” His sultry words wreck you even further, and your hands slide up his shoulders, pulling at him. “Want to taste yourself, your sweetness?”

“Is that… proper…” He chuckles then, kissing you deeply, as his two fingers are pressing up on that spot, stretching your tight entrance out, and you can… hear it, your wetness, making you a blushing mess as you writhe under him. You taste it then, your arousal on his tongue.

“Nothing I’m doing is proper, darling. But… it feels good, doesn’t it?” You nod eagerly, kissing him again, hands trembling as they unbutton his shirt now.

“S’good, Kento… never felt… anything. Like… like… ah!” You scream again, and he’s leaned up, watching you so carefully, desire making his eyes lidded, his lips quirking up as he watches you.

“Hear it, love?” He says softly, and you nod, planting little kisses on his throat. “So wet for me.”

“I can, it’s embarrassing.” He laughs a bit, shaking his head, and you notice how his eyes crinkle in the corner, those dark circles merely enhancing them. You reach a hand up to cup his face now. “You laugh at me, S-Sir?”

“You’re precious. So precious.” He kisses you again, and now you have his shirt off, hands splaying his hard chest, feeling the hot skin, his heart thudding under your palm, then he curls his fingers and your head falls back, hips bucking off the bed. “Can you cum again, love?”

You nod weakly, and he starts sucking on your neck, as your head lolls to the side, tickling you so good, and you feel yourself pulsing around his thick digits now, cumming once more, falling apart under him. Nanami groans, angling his arm to shove them in deeper, making you so full, too full, until you’re desperately clinging to him, your legs shaking as a final orgasm hits.

This one is even more intense, so intense you’re weak, as he’s finally slipping his fingers out, and he is kissing you once more, his weight on you now. Your mind is whirling as you desperately unbutton him now, hand sliding down to touch him, but he stops it, shaking his head now. You pout, looking up at his grin.

“Nanami, let me… do things.” You don’t really know what you’re saying, but his little laugh makes you ache more.

“Do things? Hmm?”

“Indeed, I want to… touch you there.” He has your hand in his, kissing it softly, shaking his head again.

“Not yet, darling, today is about you and your pleasure.” He says, caressing your face, brushing the hair that’s fallen out of it’s coif back softly as he looks at you. “I want to do this for you.”

“I want you. Nanami, please. More.” You beg, arching up, and you feel it then, his hard length between your thighs, he pins you gently to the bed, halting your movements now. You pout again.

“We’ll do more next time. If you wish for another time?”

“If I wish, what do you think?” He laughs again, throwing his head back, and you glare now. “Acting so gentlemanly when you’re a tease, Sir.”

“Indeed, I am a bit, but it’s too fun to tease you, to watch you.” The timer goes off then, and he sighs, sitting up and running a feather light touch down your body once more, down every curve. “You’re so beautiful I can’t put words to it.”

“You really make me feel so pretty.” You whisper brokenly, as emotions hit, and now you are frantic, thinking of how you’ll have to leave. He frowns, leaning you up and brushing your tears away.

“Darling, don’t cry, please. I promise we will do more-”

“S’not that. It’s that… I don’t want to leave.” You say brokenly, and he exhales, bringing you to his chest, holding you gently.

“My lawyer is looking into it for you. Maybe we will find out something?”

“But Nanami, I’ll stop you from being happy, from finding someone, I can’t do that to you. This is selfish, I’m selfish, I’m-”

“Stop that. Stop that now.” He kisses you quiet, pulling you onto his lap, and you ache more and more, as you think of what awaits you, your ‘husband’ fucking women, being cruel, your loneliness. It starts to consume you. “Hey, hey… it’s okay love. You’re not preventing me from anything. I’m just enjoying you.”

“Don’t let me stop you, please?” He sighs then, shaking his head a bit as he strokes your back.

“Calm down, darling… please. I promise you’re not stopping anything, you’re just making my days better.” You sniffle a bit as you smile now. “Let’s get you dressed, you’re shivering. Was this too much?”

“No, I loved it. Promise.” Soon Nanami is dressing you, and you are calmed now, sitting on the settee by the fireplace, as you are nibbling on yummy cookies, and he’s pouring you a little glass of milk. “Oh thank you! These are so good!”

“Worked up an appetite hmm?” He smirks as you blush, nibbling your cookie and moaning at how good it tastes.

“You could say so.” He kisses you softly, and your heart thuds, as your little puppy wakes up now, running up to you both. Nanami picks him up, putting him in his lap then.

“So what’s his name?” You giggle then.

“Satoru.”

Leaving the bliss of Nanami Kento’s warm apartments for the cold, gigantic manor of the Gojo estate makes you shiver. You brace for impact, because you’re sure Satoru is fucking his mistress on something, does the man do anything but fuck you wonder at times. You see him in his study frequently, and he leaves often to go to meetings, but he sure does love to fuck.

Now that you’ve cum so hard your legs are weak, you guess you understand a bit more. Leaving Nanami had taken far too much effort, to feel like someone just wants you so much, like you’re not some burden? That and the man sure knew how to do… things.

You heat up just thinking of it, of how you’d tasted yourself.

You let your dog run now, and he runs right up to Satoru, who is sitting at the dining room table, alone. You pause then, looking around in the quiet dining room now, it’s a beautiful mix of golds and burgundies. Satoru looks as you walk in, his eyes raking down your body now, making you shiver a bit. You clear your throat, taking off your cloak and hanging it up.

“Where have you been?” He asks, and his voice is… different. It’s dark, and husky, and lacks some of the cruelty. You pause a bit.

“Where’s the new Mistress? Has she left already?” You ask, earning a mirthless laugh.

“She’s asleep. You didn’t answer my question. Have a seat.”

“Have a seat?”

“Are you deaf? Sit.” He pulls back a chair, and it grinds against the wood floor in a sound that hurts your ears, a screech, and he pats the seat with his hand.

“All right, if you wish…” You sit down next to him, and he snaps fingers, soon dinner is brought to you. “I’m not hungry, Duke.”

“You never are, are you? Ever since I said that.” He says, and you look to his eyes then, by the candlelight of the room, swirling a dark blue that’s intense to even look at. You sigh, picking up a fork then.

“It did make me watch what I eat in front of you, yes. I am not angry about it though. Just cautious I suppose.” You poke around at your plate, and he’s scowling at you now.

“I shouldn’t have, bloody hell, I already told you I was wrong. Must you torture me so?” He asks hoarsely, and you now look at him in shock.

“How does that torture you? I’m confused, Duke.”

“You’re perfect, and all I do is…” He trails off then, running a hand through his snowy white hair. “Will you just fucking eat!?”

You clear your throat, looking down at your plate now. “As you wish.”

“As I wish.” He scoffs, but you do nibble on the food, chewing it thoughtfully, watching him with growing confusion at his actions. “It’s all - as you wish - dear husband - your grace.”

“What else do you expect? I did truly eat a lot of cookies, so I got a little full though.” You giggle softly, and now he’s glaring right at you, his hazy blue eyes sharp as they bore into you, burning you with a look.

“Cookies, hmm?”

“I baked them in fact.” You sip your water now, sighing and feeling Satoru’s gaze dip to your neck.

“You so shamelessly let a man mark you?” He is leaned forward now, thumb on your throat, and you smack his hand, glaring at him.

“I see your mistress' necks. Hypocritical man.”

“You’re a bloody Duchess, you’re not a common whore.”

“Is that a compliment, Gojo?”

“No. No, it's a bloody warning. You’ll not embarrass me.”

You stand then, throwing down your fork, leaning forward on the table and glaring at him. “You embarrass me daily!”

He stands now as well, throwing down his napkin, leaning forward and looming over you, jaw clenched, blue eyes narrowed to slits. “Is baking cookies what you call fucking?”

You laugh at that, shoulders shaking then, earning his firm grip as he yanks you by your wrist now, and you struggle in his hold. “I did not fuck, yet.”

“Yet!?”

“Mmm… I found out what orgasms are. Oh, Duke, they're quite addictive, aren’t they?” You whisper, stepping closer as you watch his jaw clench so hard a vein pops out, his lips parting then.

“What now?” The Duke bites those words out.

“You don’t just get them from fucking, no… I was… hmm.” You take a bite of the food then, as he’s fuming, licking your lips. “Eaten. That’s the term I believe.”

Satoru sputters now, jaw dropped as his eyebrows lower, and you can’t wipe that satisfied grin off your damn face, even as he smacks at your hand, gripping that wrist now too. “You brag about it, like a little slut.”

“Why not, maybe you’ll like me more, maybe you’ll be a bit less cruel. Today I was told I’m beautiful, today I was treasured. And yes, cumming several times…” You step closer, tilting your head back to look up at him. “I see why you’re always fucking, Duke Gojo. It’s quite the high, cumming. I hear it tastes so good, my pussy.”

“Goddammit.” He yanks you to him then, shoving you on the table, spreading your legs and pulling you against him. You smack him then, right across the face, as your breasts heave with labored breaths, and he’s yanking at your hair.

“Shouldn’t you be happy, Duke? I am so occupied I’ll never come near you. I’ll never cry like that damn night, on the floor, my cheek stinging, my heart destroyed.” Your voice breaks then, and his pretty, cruel face softens for just a moment, as beautiful blue eyes drink you in.

“I bet I could make you cum harder.” He whispers, you laugh at that, earning his bruising grip on your hips.

“I doubt that, I daresay I made such a mess. Quite embarrassing, when I could hear how wet-”

Satoru Gojo slams his lips on yours then, and at first you’re so in shock you just sit there, slack jawed, but then his tongue slips between your lips, and his hands slide around to your back, bringing you against his hard body. As you gasp, his tongue goes further, and then you feel it…

You’re throbbing for him.

Fuck him. Fuck Satoru Gojo.

You bite his lip hard, only making him moan, you bite him so hard you draw blood, pushing on his chest. He’s licking that spot of blood, insane look in his damn psychotic eyes, and you see it. Desire, stark and heavy, as he exhales, gripping you so tightly you can’t breathe. You both just sit there, you both are just breathing, and glaring, and staring…

“Fuck you. I hate you, I hate you so much. You dare kiss me?” You demand then, swiping at your lips with the back of your hand. Satoru laughs, harshly, sliding a hand up your breast, gripping it and eliciting a whimper. You curse yourself for it.

“I hate you, little miss perfect. I hate being near you. I hate everything about you, how you walk, how you look…” He’s yanking your top down, thumb brushing your nipple, and you arch your back. He feels so goddamn good, his other hand slinking up your spine, to pull your hair so hard it pricks your eyes. His lips hover, his eyes lidded as he tells you that he hates you.

“Yes, how I look, so ugly to you. Right?” You yank his shirt then, an expensive shirt in your grip, balled into a damn fist.

“I never fucking said that. I never did. You know you’re not, you’re just a conceited little bitch who wants someone on their knees.” He speaks with vitriol, right against your mouth, and you taste him, and you wish he didn’t taste good, you wish he didn’t feel good.

You wish that kiss wasn’t the most intense thing you’ve felt. You wish there weren’t shocks everywhere, that there wasn’t desire in your gut.

You hate him.

“Having someone on their knees made me cum, so yes, I did fucking enjoy it, Duke Gojo. Having him drink me-” Satoru growls now, hand on your throat, wrapping, thumb on your pulse point, and he’s slamming his lips down again, and you hate yourself for what you do next.

You kiss him back, you’re devouring each other, moaning into each other's mouths, teeth clicking against each other, tongues messy and desperate. It’s not like anything you’ve ever felt,  as he’s ripping off your bodice, tearing it in half. You rip his shirt, as he picks you up, wrapping your legs around his hips, and you pull back to gasp, staring at him, scowling.

“You’ll hurt your back, remember, don’t pick me up.” He slams you on the table, swiping everything on the ground, yanking you by your thighs.

“You don’t hurt my fucking back. You’re stupid. You’re fucking stupid. I wish I never even met you.” You’re sobbing now, and he doesn’t fucking care, does he, no he’s kissing you again, sliding his hands up your thighs, shoving your skirts up.

“I wish I never met you. Arrogant, cruel, stupid. Fucking hate you. Probably covered in your little whore’s cum.” He smacks you now, and you laugh right in his face, kissing him again, before crying out when he’s kissing down your neck, biting you brutally, leaving teeth marks, and your nipples grow taut, as you’re soaking wet.

“I’ll mark you myself, stupid little bitch.” He grunts out, biting you again, so hard you’re blinded by the pain, by the pleasure.

“Ah!” You’re grinding up for more friction, as he’s kissing down your breasts, sucking a nipple into his hot, eager mouth, making you lose every sense you’ve had, you’re consumed by your hatred, by this need. “Thought you never would kiss me, never touch me, don’t start now. Go lick your little Mistress’ cunt.”

“Cunt!? This is how you speak, like a damned common harlot. I don’t lick their cunts, you stupid girl.”

“You’re selfish, I bet you’re a terrible lover.”

“I only do that in a relationship, I have standards.” You scoff, then he’s on his knees, spreading you wide, and you’re shoving at him.

“Well then what the fuck are you doing down there!?”

“I’ll lick you so good you’ll not have a stupid thought in your stupid head about some other man.” Satoru’s big hands rip your pantalets now, and he hungrily stares at your cunt. “Fuck… you’re perfect there too. Fucking hate you. All of you.”

“Wh-what… you don’t lick them… then why me…” He’s huffing, his long fingers bruising now, as he looks up at you, his breath against your inner thigh, glaring at you with hatred.

“You’re so fucking stupid.”

“You are! You won’t get me off at all. Bet you-”

“Ahem… Duke Gojo?” You both turn, breathless, and it’s Satoru’s Mistress. She’s looking at you both with wide eyes, and you feel yourself tear up again, as you realize what you were doing. How could you ever do this with him? He’s probably covered in her, he hates you. He…

“What the fuck are you doing here, can you not see I’m busy?” You blink in confusion, as Satoru scowls at her, and she wrings her hands.

“But you said you only wanted me!” She stomps and pouts then, and you close your legs, shaking and sitting up, your dress torn to pieces. He stops you, his eyes swirling pools of beautiful blue, almost making you forget how much you hate him then, how horrible he is.

How disgusting he is.

“Go on now, don’t disappoint her, Duke.” You whisper, and he grabs your face, squeezing it so tightly, squishing your cheeks.

“Insolent brat. We’re not finished with this conversation.” He hisses through his teeth, and you smack his hand again.

“Go on, you have fucking to do.”

“And you have cumming to do.”

“Not by you!”

“Yes, by me! Damn-”

“Duke Goko…”

“What!?” You both yell at her now, and she looks between you both, running off then, and you shove at Satoru, clinging your clothes to your exposed chest, glaring as he stomps toward you.

“You don’t want me. Remember?” You whisper, and he glares, pulling your hair again, shoving off your tattered dress. “You owe me a new one. Don’t touch me anymore! I don’t want your hands on me. Your mouth on me. I don’t!” You scream, crying again, swiping at your stupid tears.

“I just… I just…”

“I don’t want you. I don’t.” You smack him again, and he yanks you back against him, sliding his fingers up your cunt, and you moan, loud and wanton as he fingers you, and you’re shuddering, as he moans, watching your jaw go slack in pleasure, watching your eyes roll back.

“Don’t want me, Duchess? Fucking soaked.” His hushed words kill you, you’re dripping everywhere, sticky between your thighs, as Satoru consumes you.

“I don’t.” Your voice is so weak, pathetic, as your hips buck up, as he slides so damn deep in your eager cunt. You hate her reaction to him. “Go now, go f-fuck her. I hear you every night and it disgusts me, you disgust me.”

“And you disgust me. Opening your legs for a stranger like a stupid slut. Fuck…” He’s scissoring his fingers inside you now, rough and brutal, and fuck if you don’t want more of it.

You hate him. You hate him. You hate him.

“Good! Good, I’m glad I do. Ah, fuck!” You’re close to cumming then and there, so fucking embarrassing, you yank away, and your mouth drops when he shoves his fingers in his mouth, groaning and shutting his eyes. “Did you just taste me!?

“Yes I did. Jesus christ.” He gets on his knees then, and you gasp, as he buries his face against you.

“Wh-what, what the-”

“I’ll make an exception to taste that.” He moans out, looking up at you, and it takes everything to back away.

“Go practice on her. The only one you want.” You shove at him then, and he is just staring, so heartbreakingly beautiful. “You are cruel. You are evil.”

“I know.” Is all he says, blinking back emotions of his own with snowy white lashes. “Please… let me. Please… stop seeing him.”

“No, you wanted this. You wanted nothing of me. Now you’ll have it.” You turn then, running off and panting, up to your room, slamming the door, sliding down it and struggling to breathe.

You’re awful, how can you want him of all people? How, when you just had Nanami Kento, so sweet and loving, how could you want someone who smacks you, who slams you on tables. How could you ever want him? He doesn’t want you, he just wants to prove he’s so much better. It’s all a game to him, he cares nothing, a kiss changes nothing.

Nothing.

You will never kiss him again, you can’t, not when you…

You’re fully in your night shift soon, sighing as you look at the tattered remnants of your dress, and your throat is so tight you realize you must have coffee. You shakily walk out, passing by his door, and of course it’s cracked open, why wouldn’t it be, he’s so shameless. You see his Mistress clinging to him, and he’s naked, his body chiseled to perfection, bored look on his face.

The kiss meant nothing to him. It should mean even less than nothing to you, shouldn’t it.

“You were going to lick her… would you try that on me, Duke?” She asks then, and you roll your eyes, as you quietly watch, beyond your better judgment. He scoffs then, shoving her to her knees.

“Stop bringing her up. No, I will not, and it’s not your business.”

“It’s because she’s so beautiful…”

“Shut up. Now, you’ll service me, won’t you?” He caresses her cheek, and she nods eagerly, opening her mouth for him then. You tremble as you walk away, then you hear it, him whispering your name.

Did he see you!?

“Duke, why are you calling me that!… You want her!” She then coughs, and Satoru moans loudly, as your heart races, back pressed against the cold walls of the hallway.

“Shut your mouth now.” You palm your racing heart, that can’t be… it can’t be… not after…

You can’t breathe.

You tear yourself away, cursing yourself, cursing your existence, and every step gets heavier, it keeps getting harder and harder to breathe. You hate him, fuck you hate him. As he’s shoving his cock in someone’s mouth, and you’re wet from watching. You hate yourself. You hate your life. How could you, how could you?

Breathe.

As if it’s so simple.

You can not breathe here, it’s slowly sucking you away, and now it’s a million times worse, now you must shove these horrid feelings back, forget the way that stupid, cruel Duke makes you feel. The way his eyes looked when he begged you to stop seeing Nanami. But you won’t give in, you won’t fall for it, for whatever game he plays, you’ll play right back.

But one thing is certain, him whispering your name did wicked things, things you can’t even understand. Why did he? Why!?

Why can’t he let you have any happiness?

Breathe. How, when Satoru Gojo was suffocating you?

A/N: WELL THEN. It's just gonna get angstier and messier from here. Don't worry, reader isn't gonna stop seeing Mr. Nanami, and we're far from Gojo/reader having any sort of relationship. Stupid Duke. Also yes, deformed bunny, I HAD to

Part Five

[17unfinishedprojects]

Vintage Knitting/Crochet Patterns Masterlist

Recently, I’ve been getting really into more older styles of knit and crochet, and in my search for vintage patterns I’ve come across a ton of sites and articles that have been incredibly helpful to me, so I thought I’d share them all with you. The majority of these are free, and this post is still being updated as I find more. Hope you enjoy!

(p.s. most of the places you can get crochet patterns are in the ‘Misc.’ section bc most sites have both knit and crochet patterns)

Knitting:

vintageknittingpatternarchive.com

An archive featuring a variety of patterns from the 1920s-1980s

Pros:

Completely free

You can search by bust size, colorwork, yarn weight, decade, and clothing article

Also features some crochet patterns

Cons:

The site can be hard to navigate

vam.ac.uk

An article featuring a 15 clothing patterns from the 1940s

Pros:

Completely free

Cons:

Only has instructions for one size

sunnystitcher.gumroad.com

A collection of vintage knit clothing patterns from the 1930s-1970s

Pros:

A “name your own price” site, you can choose to pay $0 if you choose

Cons:

Not a lot of patterns

aranpatternarchive.com

A collection of vintage aran knitting patterns

Pros:

Completely free

Has a wide variety of patterns

Crochet:

antiquecrochetpatterns.com

An archive featuring a variety of vintage crochet patterns

Pros:

Completely free

A lot of home décor patterns

Cons:

Most of the clothing patterns are for babies and children

A lot of the patterns are currently unavailable due to the site being updated

Misc:

thevintagepatternfiles.blogspot.com

Pros:

Completely free

Has patterns in different languages, including Dutch, Finnish, French, German, Icelandic, and Russian

Has patterns dating back to the 1800s

You can search by size, clothing article, and decade

Cons:

The site can be a hard to navigate.

marymaxim.com

A collection of vintage knit/crochet patterns

Pros:

You can filter by pattern type and yarn weight

The patterns are relatively cheap, ranging from $0.99-$4.99

Cons:

No free patterns

You can’t filter by size

trove.nla.gov.au

A blog post featuring 2 vintage knit patterns and 1 vintage crochet pattern

Pros:

Completely free

Cons:

Patterns may be hard to read because they appear as old newspaper/magazine excerpts

antiquepatternlibrary.org

An archive featuring a variety of vintage knitting, crochet, embroidery, sewing, quilting, macrame, weaving, tapestry, and many more pattens.

Pros:

Completely free

Wide variety of patterns across many crafts

Cons:

Website has an older layout and can be hard to navigate

(p.p.s I didn’t put cons on a few of them bc I honestly didn’t find any. If you encounter any problems with any of these sites let me know and I will add that to the con list.)

(p.p.p.s. if you have any other websites you use for vintage patterns please share them I’m always in need of more)

[llumetrii]

Soft Spot | Miguel x Reader

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Spider-Woman!Reader

Summary: Miguel fixes your dimensional travel watch.

Word count: 1800

A/N: This is the most random writing piece lol but I do want to write more stuff that kind of progresses this story without making it a whole fic. Like each part can be read on its own but it's still connected. Basically just very low effort because I just want to write the scenes I want without having to do filler :)

The busy atmosphere in the hallways of the Spider Society slowly dwindled as you carried on toward your destination. It was always quiet near the top of the building—where Miguel's lab was located. Most people stayed away from the general area, opting to socialize in the other sectors where the training rooms or the cafeteria was. But you had a problem that needed fixing, and only Miguel could do it.

The interface of your dimensional travel watch had been glitching for the past two days. Every time you navigated to message someone or select a dimension to travel to, the pixels would annoyingly spasm. You had messaged Miguel about the problem, and he arranged to have you meet him in his lab today so he could fix it as soon as possible. Luckily, the device hadn’t been broken enough to send you to the wrong dimensions when portal traveling, but that didn’t mean you weren’t highly paranoid that it would.

So, here you were, on your way to Miguel's lab. The clean, tiled hallway was empty and quiet by the time you arrived at the large sliding door to the lab.

As soon as you stepped up to the door, a familiar, golden figure blipped into existence in front of you. The mini holographic woman hovering in the air fixed her heart shaped glasses on her nose as she peered down at you. "Y/N." She greeted with a smile. "I'll let the boss know you're here."

You barely had time to give her a polite smile in return before she disappeared. A few seconds later, the door in front of you slid open with a soft hiss.

You stepped into the dim room full of half-built tech and glass cases of materials from other dimensions. A low, electronic hum filled your ears as you followed the path that led to the much larger room that Miguel worked in. The golden glow of his numerous screens rimmed his tall, muscular form as he turned to face you atop his platform. He watched you step onto it.

"Hey." You said to break the silence. Your voice echoed a bit within the spacious room. "Thanks for taking the time to fix my watch."

He looked down at you. "Of course I would fix it. Can’t risk using a broken device that deals with dimensional travel." He responded. His voice sounded more quiet than it usually was, less firm.

Now that you were closer, you could see how he looked at you, the usual furrow in his brow relaxed and the stern set of his mouth having loosened. He looked…softer, gentle. An expression you didn’t see on his face often when he looked at others.

He’s definitely softer around you. One of your friends had said not long ago. You had just shook your head and laughed at the time. It didn’t make sense anyway. It’s not like you were that close with him—not like he was with Peter B. Parker. You just did your job like anyone else, catching anomalies on missions and helping to train new spider-people if needed. But your friends had pointed out that he listened to you more than anyone else, that his full attention seemed to set on you like you had the most important things to say, even if you were just making a joke about a Green Goblin variant looking like he swiped a cheap mask from Spirit Halloween.

You weren’t sure why he would act differently around you of all people, but you did know that you worked surprisingly well with him when the two of you ended up on the same missions. You listened and worked with his instruction unlike some other spider people that jumped into the fray with their own plan in mind. 

So maybe that was why he apparently took a liking to you as your friends claimed. You lended an ear to him, so he was just more inclined to do the same for you.

He held out a hand, the bright red palm of his suit facing upward in a silent request for your watch. You unclasped your watch from your wrist and set it in his palm, watching as he stepped to his chair at his desk and sat down.

"This shouldn't take long." He said as he pulled open some hidden drawers and retrieved a couple tools that looked unfamiliar to you. His world was certainly more advanced than yours.

You watched him quietly work. His eyes narrowed in concentration, his eyebrows pushing low as he opened up your watch to tinker with the tiny components inside. He even had Lyla pull up some screens of the code so he could have an eye on every working detail within the watch.

Seeing him work in such focus, hunched over your watch on his desk, made a smile creep onto your lips. He was clearly in his element, the evidence of such skill littered about in the shadows of his lab.

You had overheard a while back that he helped engineer technology for his city, Nueva York, over the years. But you knew he didn't have much time to work on such things while he kept watch on the multiverse. He barely had any time to himself for that matter.

He tapped on the screens, scrolling through the numerous lines of code and reading information. "Just gonna run some tests and it should be fixed." He said without looking up at you.

You nodded. He had fixed your watch much quicker than you had anticipated. Though you shouldn’t have been surprised. He had created a device that enabled travel between dimensions for goodness sake, a device that had been compacted to the size of a watch, the very thing he was fixing. "All right, thank you." You murmured.

As soon as the words left your mouth, a pain like a bolt of lightning slashed through your whole body. Colors shot across your vision and gravity left your senses for a split second before it came wheeling back like a punch to your gut.

You stumbled and gasped, blinking hard through the lingering spots in your vision and finding Miguel suddenly in front of you. His hands quickly steadied you at your elbows, the warm grip keeping you grounded, and his face took on the most shock and concern you've ever seen on him. It almost alarmed you much more than you already were.

"You okay?" He asked. His gaze snapped down to your hands without waiting for your answer, and something in the sight of them made him spit a curse. He whirled away from you to reach his desk and snatch an object up in his hand, quickly returning to you.

He took your hand in his—a little roughly—and slipped on a 'day-pass' wristband, one typically given to people who didn't have watches. To keep them from glitching in a dimension that wasn't theirs.

You realized that was exactly what had happened to you.

Your lungs deflated from the breath that had lodged in your throat. "I've never glitched before." You muttered, thinking back to the sensation that had raced over your arms and down your spine. It had felt like your skin was pulling apart, and you grimaced at the phantom feeling your mind conjured up.

Miguel was still holding onto you, giving your forearms a slight squeeze. You looked up at him to meet his gaze of frowning concern. "You okay now?" He asked again.

"Yeah, I'm fine—now." You studied the wristband on your wrist and Miguel's hands fell away from you. "I completely forgot that taking off my watch might do that."

"I meant to give you the wristband earlier." Miguel admitted, releasing a tense sigh. He stepped back and reached for his chair, carefully lowering himself back down like he was prepared to spring to his feet if you happened to glitch again. "I apologize."

You clasped your hand over the wristband on your wrist, feeling the smooth exterior in the curve of your palm. "It's all right. Though it's definitely not something I'd want to feel again." You chuckled weakly.

"Yeah." He said as he looked at you. His eyes trailed down your form and crawled back up in a way that made you feel like a small speck under a microscope. You weren't sure what he was thinking in that moment, but your eyes flickered away, unable to hold up under his scrutinizing gaze.

"Yeah, it's not fun." He added in a more controlled tone as he turned away from you to focus back on your watch.

He resumed the tests he was running while you stood quietly nearby. You glanced down at your wristband, feeling curious. "How do these things work anyway? Like, how do they keep us from glitching?"

"The watches?" He looked up at you. "Well, they read the molecular tone of the dimension, and then apply a temporary overlay to the molecular structure of your body so the dimension doesn't read your signature as alien and try to expel it."

You squinted slightly as your brain lagged behind in the explanation, but it luckily caught up. "Okay.”

He continued, resuming work on your watch as he spoke. "That's why the dimensions are labeled with different numbers. They're just the molecular tone level. A foreign body in another dimension is more likely to glitch if its original tone level has a greater difference from the tone of the dimension they're standing in."

"So that's why I glitched pretty fast." You contemplated out loud. "Because my earth number is a lot different than yours."

"Yes, it's dependant on the difference in tone." He clarified. He started closing down the holo screens that he had been using to fix your watch, and he set his tools aside. "All right, your watch is good now." He turned in his chair to hold out the device.

"Thank you." You took the watch from his hand, feeling his eyes on you as you pulled off the wristband and placed the watch on your wrist. You tapped on the screen to see the familiar golden interface pop up, now free of glitches. Your lips curved in soft relief. No more worrying about getting stuck in another dimension.

Miguel stood from his chair, his height dwarfing yours as always. "You can message me if there are any other problems." He said.

"I will. Thank you again." You smiled up at him.

His face softened once again as he looked down at you, and his lips twitched up at one corner in return.

Warmth fluttered in your chest at the rare sight, and your smile widened. That same warmth in your chest lingered even after you left his lab with your fixed watch. Maybe your friends were right. Maybe Miguel did have a little soft spot for you.

[burning-omen]

Kinktober Day 1: Breeding + Jason Todd

Jason Todd x male reader

Kinktober 2023 list | Day 2 | Ao3

(a/n; “hey it's September 30th, right? Tf you mean ‘it's october 1st’ no the fuck it no- AHHHHHH” me about three hours ago realizing that I never finished THE FIRST DAY of kinktober )

Summary: You’re a photographer at the Wayne Family events, after meeting Jason by chance they start growing closer

Warning: Horny Jason, horny reader, top!reader, bottom!jason, Jason moans like a bitch, rude rich people, pillow princess + brat Jason Todd, unprotected sex, breeding, not beta read lol.

Word count: 3.4k

To the shock of everyone involved, Jason Todd attended all of the Wayne Galas, not because he liked them- obviously. No, these things were horrible and stuffy and he hated every last person in attendance. Well, almost every last person. Bruce had hired a photographer a few months back, the first few events that you photographed you were mostly in the background, taking wide shots of the entire party, only recently did you start to mingle with the crowd more.

You met Jason a few weeks back as you tried to navigate through a pushy crowd of rich people who, to no one surprise, all thought they were the most important person there. You got pushed into Jason by a man who looked like he could have been British royalty in the 1800s, he sneered at you like a cartoon villain before walking away. You'd been overly apologetic that day, having nearly knocked the drink out of his hand. He was fine though, if not slightly enamored, you looked nice, but out of place, your clothes weren't quite up to Wayne Gala standards, before he could ask what you were doing here, he noticed the camera hanging from your neck, and offered to be your guide.

He ended up sticking with you for the rest of the night, talking as you took pictures of various people and decor around the event. It made your job a hell of a lot easier, people were quick to bump into you, you weren't rich and therefore weren't fully human to these people, but Jason was one of them, well, he was close enough, and even if he wasn't, if he was just as out of place as you, nobody was going to disrespect the host's son.

By the end of the night, you and Jason were on one of the balconies looking over all the photos from that night, and eventually some of your other work.

Eventually, you did have to leave, Bruce was paying for your ride and you really didn't want him to have to wait any longer.

You only got closer after that, every event that the Waynes hosted, you were there, and on your tail- as always- was Jason.

Your relationship didn't take a turn until the last party the Wayne threw, this one wasn't a charity but a birthday party for Bruce's friend, Oliver Queen, who insisted he needed to have it in Gotham. And even though Bruce gave a perfect speech regarding their friendship, you couldn't help but hear the irritation behind it. The night went on as usual, with Jason acting as your shadow as you weed through the crowd.

Your end of the night ritual is the only thing that changed, as you were showing Jason the pictures from tonight, he leaned over and rested his head on your shoulder, an odd act from the man, considering the most he'd touched you at this point was him putting a hand on your shoulder or tapping you to get your attention.

“Tired?” you asked jokingly.

“No,” he said but didn't elaborate.

As you continued to shuffle through the pictures you could feel him nuzzling into your neck. You let out a short, nervous laugh.

“Are you drunk?”

He hummed quietly, then laughed, “No, I'm just…”

He didn't continue, just pressing further into you, you gave up on showing him the photos for now, instead carding your fingers through his hair. Feeling just how different the white streak felt from the rest of his hair, most of his hair was thick and smooth, running through your fingers with ease. The white part was thick too, but it just felt like air, so light and delicate that you could barely feel it against your fingers.

You didn't stop until you felt his lips press against your neck, again and again as he hummed in contempt.

“Jason…” you muttered but didn't move to stop him.

He eventually moved up to your face- your cheeks, your jaw, your lips- with his kisses. It was only when you made a move and kissed him back did things escalate.

You ended up fumbling around on the floor with him, then in the hall, and on the wall next to his bedroom wall, and eventually in his bedroom. Which resulted in the most embarrassing walk of shame you've ever experienced as you had to run past your literal boss having breakfast with the rest of his family- he looked just as shocked as you imagined he would. Jason's older brother, Dick, made a comment that made Jason shout at him, you couldn't hear it with how hard your heart was beating in your ears.

You expected everything to end after that, your friendship with Jason, your job, your reputation as a photographer.

But to your surprise, the moment the front door closed behind you, Jason grabbed your face and pulled you in for a kiss, sweet and slow, nowhere near as frantic and lust-filled as they were the night before.

You started getting together outside of events after that, he stayed at your apartment most days, because ‘he liked being surrounded by you’. You learned a few things about him too, a big one being that he was a bottom, not just a bottom. A total pillow princess as well. He’ll flirt and tease all day and night long, but the moment you turn around to do the same to him, he becomes so pliant, letting you move him how you like, touch him how you liked, and fuck him how you liked.

Considering how close you'd become with his son, you figured you'd never get a call from Bruce to do another job. But you did, and despite feeling a bit out of place at first you eventually got back into it. Jason was your shadow as always, whispering things he definitely shouldn't in your ear, making it hard to focus.

“When was the last time we fucked, honestly?”

“Babe, I'm working,” you said calmly.

“It’s a genuine question.”

You sighed, “about a week ago, when the power went out.”

He only chuckled, still leaning down in you ear.

“There’s gotta be a broom closet somewhere around here-”

“Jason, stop it-”

“I want you to fuck me right up against the door, let everybody hear me while you-”

“Jason-”

“Jason!”

Looking over you saw Dick, who was probably the most outwardly supportive of your relationship with Jason out of everyone in his family. The presence of his brother shut him up quickly, his face turning a bit red. You and Jason wandered around the party with Dick for a while, you were having a great time, taking photos as Dick told to funny little stories about Jason.

Jason, however, wasn't having a great time. He’d planned to flirt with you all night then get fucked so hard that his brain stopped working, then getting pampered by you for the rest of the night, unfortunately, Dick had taken an interest in you for the night, purely platonic of course, but it was constant, and even though Dick has definitely seen Jason at his worst, it'd be really fucking weird if he begged you to fuck him within earshot of his brother. So he held out, frustrated and horny as the party droned on.

By the time guests started leaving you'd been informed of every little embarrassing thing Jason has ever done- including stealing the wheels off Bruce's car, some stories had to be left out or changed for obvious reasons, but outside of that, you were caught up on Jason's embarrassment timeline. You could practically feel Jason stewing behind you, horny, frustrated, and, embarrassed all at once.

“I think it's time for us to go, if we stay any longer Jason's brain is going to start leaking out of his ears.”

You said your goodbyes to Dick and turned to Jason, who was glaring after the man as he walked away.

“We can go now.”

The fumble up to his bedroom was exactly that, a fumble as you clumsily avoided the lingering guest, and as you took a few minutes to worship the exposed pieces of his body on the stairs with your hands and mouth, only moving when you heard footsteps.

You didn't carry Jason into the room, but you might as well have with the way you controlled his every move. He fell back onto his bed, spreading his legs subconsciously even though he was still fully dressed. The smile on his face only grew wider when you yanked him by his now loose tie, pulling him back up to you, pressing a kiss on his lips that only got more heated with every passing second. Kneeling on the bed, his legs wrapped around your waist almost instantly, you could feel the heels of the balmorals Bruce had bought him digging into the back of your thigh.

He pulled back, flopping down on the bed. Jason's hands, however steady they were before, became utterly useless in a matter of seconds as he failed to unbutton his pants several times before giving up, wordlessly resting his hands above his head, staring up at you expectantly. The term ‘pillow princess’ came to mind for a brief second as you unbuttoned them for him. Purposefully ignoring the tight bulge in his pants that was nearly demanding your attention.

“Come on, y/n,” he muttered, his voice as deep as ever.

Slowly rocking his hips against yours in a desperate, yet short lived, attempt at getting you to act. You were by no means cruel, and considering his little plan for the night hadn't fallen through, you indulged him. Lifting his still-clothed thigh up to your shoulder, you had to do a bit of maneuvering to get his pants down to his ankles, Jason was entirely unhelpful, you'd be convinced he was a rag doll if it weren't for his inability to stop fucking squirming.

The way his cock twitched in his pants showed you just how desperate he was, thrusting up against nothing, a short whine coming from somewhere deep in his throat as he started up at you with those pretty blue eyes.

You ran your hands over the exposed skin of his thigh, leaning down and kissing them, leaving little bruises and bites before switching to the next. His gaze was intense, almost glaring, but the whines and whimpers he let out told you that he was just desperate.

Then, unexpectedly, you slid your hand all the way down the inside of his thigh, feeling goosebumps rise in your wake, Jason figured you'd stop just before his cock, you liked teasing him like that, liked taking him apart slowly. But that's apparently not what you had in mind tonight, he only realized that when you wrapped your fingers around his cock, the fabric of his boxers tightened along with your grip. He whined, bucking up into your hand.

Far faster than he expected, you stroked him through his pants, the texture of them and the squeezing pressure your hand provided sending shivers up and down his spine. He gripped the bed sheets as you settled into a pleasant rhythm, fast and tight around his sensitive cock.

His eyes hung low, squeezing shut when you brushed over the tip.

Jason came quickly, hips sputtering and muttering incoherently as he did, cum sleeping through black fabric, drenching your hand and the boxers.

You pulled back, putting your hands back on his thighs, watching his chest rise and fall rapidly as he came down.

Hands still gripping the sheets, he sat there and waited, waiting for you to do something, you were in control after all. But you didn't, you just watched him, his chest rising and falling, cum splattered on his underwear and just under his belly button, the bruises and bites littering his thighs.

“Y/n..” he muttered, hard and horny all over again.

You laughed, “yes?”

He scooted closer to you until you hips were firmly pressed against his ass. Even then, you could here him muttering ‘come on’ over and over against under his breath.

“Speak up, you have to tell me what you want.”

He glared, a real harsh glare that you knew was born out of frustration. He should have known you'd be like this, for a moment he thought he'd really gotten off the hook, but you never just let him cum, you never just fucked him, no, he had to beg for it, as though him presenting himself to you wasn't begging enough.

“Just,” suddenly unable to find his words, Jason groaned, “do something!”

You let out another short laugh, then asked, “Something like what?”

The urge to kick you suddenly emereged.

“Anything, please I-” his hands went from the bed sheets to his face, covering his eyes as his brain once again failed to produce the right words.

You leaned down, pressing kisses down his throat and the pieces of his chest that we're exposed.

After a moment you asked, “How about you tell me what you wanted earlier, you seemed to have a lot of ideas then.”

He shifted, his hands finding the bed again, seems like his mind was racing, as his eyes were almost completely unfocused and blush rose on his cheeks with every second that passed, you gave him a moment to sort himself out.

He spoke suddenly, his voice coming out with some force, “I need you to fuck me until I can’t take it anymore, like you did when the power went out and we didn’t have anything else to do but fuck over and over again, I need you to fuck me like that again, I want you to cum in me so many times that it drips out of my ass and ruins the bed- ah- and I- I can’t- I can’t fucking think with you grinding against me like that so can you please just hurry up and do something!”

A wide grin spread out on your face, even though you barely comprehended that you were grinding your bulge into his ass, it was good to see how a bit of gentle pressure was already making him writhe.

You pulled back, before he could stop complaining you flipped the giant of a man onto his stomach with a hard shove. You heard him moan as he bounced against the bed, he liked being manhandled, but you figured that one out a while ago.

Pulling his boxers down to his knees, fully ready to prep him, only to see the familiar shiny glint of lube covering his hole. Without thinking, you pressed a finger in, feeling just how easily he took it you almost laughed.

“You take all the fun out of prepping you..”

“Shut up and fuck me!”

His desperate, panting tone was enough for you to cave, even as he glared back at you. It took you a second to get out of your clothes, well really just your pants, belt, and boxers, but it still took longer than Jason would have ever liked, again, bratty pillow princess of the century.

By the time you let your cock prod against his hole, he'd grabbed a pillow and rested it under his head, still turning to face you as you slowly pushed in. His resolve didn't last long, broken by a long moan as the head of your cock slipped into his hole, already about to thrust a hole into the bed sheets.

You grabbed his hips, pressing them hard into the bed, he stopped moving, an undeniable whimper coming from him.

You pressed further, barely even half way in and you could feel him squeezing around you, you pressed down until your hips were pressed together.

He panted and moaned, his body flexing, then relaxing. You waited for him to give you a sign that he was okay, and when he did you waited more, just to tease him. He realized this a couple of seconds later, dropping his head into the pillow with a frustrated groan, you're surprised he didn't turn around and cuss you out at that exact moment.

Even though you probably shouldn't have, you pulled out slow, and slammed back into him with more force than you meant to, the bed dipped beneath you both and Jason let put a wild moan. You probably should have gone slow with him, made him cum over and over again before filling him yourself, but you didn't, you had a bit of an epiphany while you had Jason fully wrapped around your cock. You were really, really fucking horny. With someone as pretty as Jason it was always so tempting to take him about the slow way, teasing, drawing orgasm after orgasm out of him, but with some that felt as good as Jason does, it's pretty easy to let that idea fly out the window in turn of pounding him into the mattress.

So you did.

Watching him claw and bite at the pillow beneath him in an attempt to bring some stability back. His whole body getting forced forward with every thrust.

Loud, almost pained, moans and the sound of skin hitting skin filled the room. Even with the pillow shoved into his mouth he was still impossibly loud. You could feel just how warm he’d gotten, his skin was hot and sweaty, and in your mind, you'd hardly even done anything to him yet.

Little tears prickled in his eyes, he squeezed them closed tightly. Taking your cock wasn't anything new to him but fuck, sometimes you could be rough. Not that he didn't enjoy it, no, if he had less pride he’d be screaming at the top of his lungs how good it felt.

He could already tell where bruises were going to form, he'd have burning red hand prints on his waist for sure, and an odd one on his ass and inner thighs, hickies and smaller bruises would litter practically every surface his body offered for sure.

Leaning down, you thrust hitting deeper and deeper, you kissed along his shoulders and back, trying to soothe at least a little of the hurt you were causing. You didn't but it felt nice anyways.

Jason's vision went a little spotty when he came again, you never stopped fucking him and he really didn't want you to. His cum soaked into the sheets beneath him, he could feel the sticky sheets cling to his stomach.

You followed soon after, shooting cum deep inside of him, just like he wanted. He whimpered quietly at the feeling, he could still feel you fucking him with your softened cock, trusting much slower, much to his dismay. He knew you were just waiting to get hard again but he really didn't like waiting.

It didn't take long for you to get hard again, you were still fully inside your beautiful boyfriend's beautiful ass so it definitely wasn't difficult. You continued pounding into him like nothing happened, he didn't say anything either, other than incoherent word between moans. Even though he didn't have to wait long, he missed you fucking him already.

You slammed into him hard and he went cross-eyed for a moment, letting his moans flow freely, louder and more satisfied than before.

“Right there-” he panted, “again, please-”

You couldn't deny him, not when he begged like that, you angled you hips so you'd slam against that spot again and again until he was staining the sheets for a second, then third time.

He made it too easy to want to fuck him.

His body was nearly limp by his fourth orgasm, you pulled out, he let out a little noise, unable to do much about it. You flipped him onto his back, seeing the mess covering his cock and stomach, his eyes tracked your every move, but not many where made, you ran your hands down his thighs just like you'd found before, then shoved your cock back into his mess of a hole.

You chased your own pleasure, dragging an exhausted Jason along with you for the ride. His hands gripped onto you, pulling you down and holding you tight, letting his airy moans fill your ears.

You came soon after, with him clawing at your back and clinging to you like a damn koala. You stayed inside him for a long moment, waiting for him to remember that he had to let you go.

When he did, you leaned back, watching yourself pull out of him, your cock covered in cum and lube. Cum dripped out of his hole rapidly, a puddle forming and growing on the bed, you laughed, still a bit winded.

“Hey, looks like you got your wish, these sheets are defiantly ruined.”

He laughed tiredly before pulling you back down into his arms.

[ltwilliammowett]

Octant, by Spencer Browning, London, 18th century

During the 1800 siege of Genoa led by General Massena, Captain Durazzo's hard-hit ship Andromeda was abandoned by its crew and the instrument was taken from HMS Juno.

[reidsworld]

Beautiful Tragedy

Summary: Set in late 1800s London high society, Logan Howlett falls for a woman who is off limits, resulting in what can only be described as a beautiful tragedy. Based on this post by @shinyshayminflower

Paring: Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader

Category: Angst

Content Warnings: Heavy angst, forbidden love, arranged marriage, kinda ooc.

Word Count: 3.6k

Mars speaks… chat I cried while writing this. this turned out sm more AU like than I originally planned but we move. also reader ended up being british...

Part 2 | Masterlist

The grand estate your family owned was a sanctuary of opulence, yet it felt like a gilded cage. The late 1800s had bound you to a life of social expectations, where every decision was dictated by status and tradition. Amidst the grandeur of high society, you found solace in Logan Howlett— a man whose mutant abilities had kept him on the fringes of your world.

Logan, with his war-hardened past and retractable claws, was both an outsider and a confidant. Despite his loyalty and experience, his mutation made it impossible for him to be anything more than a distant companion.

Logan knew where he stood when it came to his place in society. He was more of a bodyguard than friend, someone to be kept at an arm's length yet close enough that it would be acceptable to use him as protection. That was how he met you, while in attendance at a ball hosted by your family, his sole purpose there was to act as a sort of security in case anyone came looking for trouble.

The lavish ballroom of the manor was alive with the clamour of high society. Chandeliers dripped with crystal droplets that cast a warm, shimmering light over the elegantly dressed guests. The air was thick with the fragrance of roses and lilacs, mingled with the faint scent of freshly polished wood and candle wax.

Logan stood near the entrance, his presence a stark contrast to the glittering splendour surrounding him. He was impeccably dressed in a dark suit, but his demeanour was understated, a professional reserve that set him apart from the guests. His role was clear: to remain unobtrusive, yet vigilant, a sentinel amidst the grandeur. His reputation as a skilled protector preceded him, but his mutant abilities were a closely guarded secret, known only to those who needed to know.

You, the lady of the evening, moved through the crowd with grace and composure. As the daughter of the host, you were the centre of attention, engaged in polite conversation and the ceremonial dance of high society. Your laughter was soft, your smiles carefully measured. Yet beneath the surface, there was a sense of confinement, a constraint imposed by the roles expected of you.

It was during one of these moments of enforced sociability that Logan first saw you. He had been scanning the room, his sharp eyes ever watchful for any signs of trouble. His gaze landed on you as you were approached by a particularly insistent suitor, whose eyes were filled with interest that seemed to linger a bit too long.

Logan’s instincts kicked in. He moved closer, positioning himself strategically within view but maintaining a respectful distance. He could sense the subtle shift in your demeanour, the polite but firm way you dismissed the suitor. It was a momentary flicker of discomfort, quickly masked by a practiced smile.

As the suitor finally retreated, you looked around, momentarily lost in thought. It was then that your eyes met Logan’s for the first time. The connection was brief but charged with an unspoken understanding. Logan’s gaze was steady and professional, but there was something more—an acknowledgment of the silent pressure you were under.

You excused yourself from the crowd and made your way to a quieter corner of the ballroom. Logan followed at a discreet distance, his curiosity piqued by the subtle display of restraint he had witnessed. It was clear that you were navigating a complex social minefield, and his role, though limited, allowed him a rare glimpse into your world.

“Do you need anything, Miss?” Logan’s voice was low, respectful, as he approached you in the secluded corner. His accent, thick and distinctly Canadian, cut through the formality of his tone, adding an unexpected warmth to his words. The question was more about offering a reprieve than an actual request for assistance. His tone was a gentle reminder of his presence, without overstepping the bounds of his role.

You looked up at him, surprised to find him so close. There was an air of authority about him, but it was tempered with a kindness that contrasted sharply with the stiffness of the evening’s festivities.

“Actually,” you replied, your voice soft but carrying a note of genuine curiosity, “I must say, I rather enjoy your accent. It’s quite refreshing to hear amidst all the clipped tones of London society.”

Logan’s eyebrows lifted in mild surprise. “Thank you, Miss. I’ve been told it’s quite distinctive.”

“It is,” you said with a soft smile. “There’s something about it that’s rather charming. It makes you stand out, even in a room full of such grandeur.”

Logan’s gaze softened, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. “I suppose I’m not quite the typical guest at such events.”

“No, you’re not,” you agreed, “but that’s not necessarily a bad thing.”

There was a moment of silence, an unspoken connection forming between you. In that brief exchange, there was an understanding that transcended the formalities of the evening. Logan’s presence, though initially seen as a mere security detail, began to take on a different significance.

“I was merely taking a moment away from the crowd,” you say, as if you felt the need to explain your absence from being the lady of the party, the soft tone of your voice cut through the silence.

Logan nodded, respecting your need for space. “It’s quite a gatherin’ tonight. I’m sure it’s overwhelmin’.”

You smiled, a fleeting expression of relief crossing your features. “Yes, it is. The expectations can be quite… demanding.”

Logan’s gaze softened. “I understand. It’s my job to observe and protect, but I’ve seen enough of these gatherin’s to know that they come with their own set of obstacles.”

“And how do you find it, observing from the sidelines?”

Logan’s expression revealed a hint of a smile, though it was tinged with a touch of melancholy. “Sometimes, it’s a necessary role. It allows me to see things that others might miss. But it’s not without its own challenges.”

As the conversation drew to a close, you nodded to him, a gesture of gratitude and acknowledgment. “Thank you, Mr…?”

“Howlett, Logan Howlett.”

“Well, thank you, Mr. Howlett. It’s nice to have someone who understands.”

Logan inclined his head, a respectful smile on his lips. “Anytime, Miss. If you need anythin’, I’ll be nearby.”

With that, you returned to the ballroom, the weight of the evening’s obligations settling back upon you. But as you moved through the crowd once more, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this brief, genuine interaction with Logan had introduced a new, albeit unexpected, layer to your world.

Logan, meanwhile, watched you from a distance, his thoughts a mix of admiration and cautious intrigue. The evening had begun with clear boundaries and roles, but this fleeting encounter hinted at the possibility of something more—something that could challenge the carefully constructed walls of society and expectation.

As the night wore on, both of you carried the memory of that brief exchange, a subtle acknowledgment of a connection that neither fully understood but both felt deeply. It was a moment of genuine interaction in a sea of pretence, and it marked the beginning of something new for the both of you.

The first signs of affection between you and Logan since that night were subtle, yet profound. Stolen glances, brief touches, and shared smiles were the only expressions of a deep and forbidden love. On cool, moonlit evenings, you would find secluded corners of the manor, where the walls could not judge and the moonlight could only witness.

The manor's gardens were hushed under the blanket of twilight, the moon casting a silvery glow over the manicured lawns and fragrant blooms. The night was cool, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves and carrying the scent of jasmine. You wandered along the winding paths, seeking refuge from the stifling constraints of the evening’s festivities.

Logan had noticed your retreat and, with the quiet grace of someone who understood the need for solitude, followed at a discreet distance. His presence was a comforting shadow against the moonlit landscape, his footsteps barely making a sound on the gravel path.

You found yourself drawn to a secluded alcove, a small, hidden corner of the garden where the ivy-clad walls and the canopy of ancient trees offered a cocoon of privacy. You leaned against the stone balustrade, the coolness of the marble seeping through your silk gloves. The moonlight danced on the surface of the small pond before you, creating a shimmering mosaic.

Moments later, Logan emerged from the shadows, his eyes finding yours with an intensity that made your heart quicken. He had shed the formal demeanour of the evening, his posture relaxed yet alert, as if he too needed this quiet moment to escape the expectations placed upon him.

“I hoped I’d find you here,” he said softly, his accent carrying a soothing cadence in the stillness of the night.

You turned to him, a smile touching your lips despite the knot of anxiety in your chest. “I needed a moment away from everything.”

Logan stepped closer, the space between you closing as he approached with deliberate care. His gaze was tender, his eyes reflecting the moonlight with a warmth that belied the cool night. “You seemed lost in thought earlier. Everythin’ alright?”

You nodded, though the flicker of sadness in your eyes spoke volumes. You wracked your brain, trying to find the best way to speak without hurting him. You knew what your father expected of you when it came to your future, the guilt gnawed on you as you spoke, “just… trying to navigate the expectations placed upon me.”

Logan’s hand brushed against yours, a fleeting touch that sent a shiver up your spine. The contact was brief but electric, a silent exchange of the emotions that words could not fully capture. He looked at you with a mixture of admiration and concern, his fingers lingering near yours.

“I wish there was something more I could do, darlin’” he said, his voice low and filled with sincerity.

You turned your hand to his, a gesture of both comfort and need. “Your presence alone means more than you know. It’s the only thing that feels real amidst all the pretence.”

Logan’s thumb gently caressed the back of your hand, his touch both reassuring and tender. “I wish things were different,” he murmured, his voice a hushed confession. “I wish I could be more than just a shadow in the background.”

A sigh escaped your lips, and you looked up at him with a mixture of longing and sorrow. “So do I. But the world is not as kind as we’d like it to be.”

In that moment, the air between you seemed to crackle with unspoken desires. Logan’s eyes searched yours, and you saw a vulnerability in him that matched your own. He took a deep breath, the weight of his unspoken feelings hanging heavily in the space between you.

“I don’t want to just be a shadow,” he said, his voice resolute but soft. “I want to be something real in your life.”

Your heart ached with the intensity of his words. You stepped closer, your free hand resting gently on his arm. “You are, Logan.”

He gave you a pointed look, “I want to be more than just some secret lover, I want to be able to shout from the rooftops that you're mine.”

You sighed with a heavy heart, “I know, I want that too. But we’re bound by the constraints of a world that doesn’t understand us, doesn’t understand you.”

Logan’s gaze dropped to your lips, his eyes heavy with emotion. “Then let this night be ours, if only for a moment. Let the world fade away and let us be here, together, beneath the moon.”

You nodded, tears glistening in your eyes. “Just for tonight.”

He closed the distance between you, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss. It was a kiss filled with all the love and longing that had been building between you, a quiet declaration of the feelings that had grown in the shadows of the manor. It was a poignant symphony of love and yearning, each touch a silent plea for something that could never fully come to be.

As his lips lingered against yours, the sweetness of the moment was tinged with a sharp edge of guilt and sorrow. You had always known that this love was a fleeting dream, a delicate thread woven in the shadows of your constrained existence. The reality of what was to come loomed over you like a dark cloud, a future you could not escape but deeply resented. Each stolen moment with Logan was both a treasure and a torment, a painful reminder of what you had been forced to forsake. In the moonlit stillness, as you nestled against him, the weight of what was inevitable pressed heavily on your heart. You could feel the crushing burden of a future you could neither change nor fully embrace, and what you had with Logan was a beautiful tragedy.

As you pulled away, both of you breathed deeply, savouring the preciousness of the moment. Logan’s arms encircled you, holding you close against his chest. You rested your head against him, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear.

In the tranquillity of the moonlit garden, the world outside ceased to exist. For a brief, fleeting moment, there were no societal constraints, no expectations—just the two of you, lost in the gentle embrace of the night.

“I love you,” Logan whispered, his voice a soft rumble against your ear.

You closed your eyes, a tear rolling down your cheek, your heart swelling with both joy and sorrow at the words you wish you could say. “I know.”

“What if we could just leave?” Logan suggested one night, his voice a hopeful murmur against the backdrop of the crackling fire.

Your heart ached at the thought, your gaze darkening with a mix of longing and despair. “Leave? Logan, it’s not that simple. They would hunt us down. There’s no place for us in the world beyond these walls.”

“But have you ever imagined it? What it would be like if we were free to be together?” he asked, his tone filled with quiet yearning.

“Every single day,” you whispered, your fingers finding his and intertwining with them. “But we both know it’s impossible. Society will never allow it. To them, I’m nothing more than property, meant to be traded to the wealthiest suitor. And you… they see you as a weapon—a beast, not a man.”

Logan’s expression darkened with hurt, and suddenly, he was on his feet, his hands ripping themselves away from yours. “Is that what you think too?” His voice was tight, raw with pain. “Do you see me as just some animal, only here to protect you?”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, and you froze, your breath catching in your throat. “No, Logan, I would never—”

“Then what am I to you?” he cut you off, his frustration bubbling over. “If we can’t run, if there’s no future for us, then why are we still pretending? Pretending that this is enough, that we’re not just stuck in a nightmare we can’t wake up from?”

His anger pierced through you, your heart pounding as you struggled to find the words that could make him understand. “Logan, that’s not what I meant—”

“Not what you meant?” he echoed, his voice sharp. “Wasn’t it you who made me believe there was a chance? That if we just held on, we could make this work? Yet you never said you loved me, not once.”

Your breath hitched, tears spilling down your cheeks as you saw the anguish in his eyes. All you wanted was to reach out, to hold him, to promise that you would find a way to escape together. Logan’s heart ached with the urge to pull you into his arms, to tell you that everything would be okay—that you’d figure it out somehow. But he held himself back, his face a mask of cold indifference, waiting for you to break the unbearable silence.

“I can’t,” you choked out.

“Why not?” he demanded, his voice rising with desperation.

“You don’t understand,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “If I say it, it will only make things worse. It will only hurt you more.”

“Why? Why can’t you just tell me?” he pressed, his voice thick with emotion.

“Because I am to be married!” you finally shouted, the words tearing from your throat.

“What?” His voice was low and cold, but the pain in his eyes was unmistakable.

“I am to be married…” The words came out as a broken whisper, heavy with the weight of inevitability. You wished with every fibre of your being that you could take them back, that you’d never had to see the way his expression shattered into something you’d never seen before—something you never wanted to see again.

He turned away from you, and you hated yourself for not trying harder, for not fighting to make him stay, for not finding a way to make him listen.

The grand hall was adorned with flowers, the scent of roses heavy in the air as guests murmured in hushed tones, awaiting the ceremony. You stood in a small room adjacent to the hall, staring at your reflection in the mirror. The white dress, elegant and intricate, felt like a shroud—a symbol of everything you were about to lose.

A soft knock echoed through the quiet room. Your heart leaped in your chest as Logan stepped inside, his face a mix of sorrow and determination. He looked out of place in the lavish surroundings, a reminder of the life you truly wanted but could never have. You had asked to see him, to explain, though you weren’t sure if anything you said could ever make this right.

“Logan…” you began, your voice breaking as you turned to face him.

“Don’t,” he whispered, his voice tight with emotion. “Don’t say it. I just needed to see you before…”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you stepped closer, shaking your head. “You have to understand—this wasn’t my choice. I never wanted this, Logan. My father… he arranged it all. He would never have allowed us to be together.”

Logan’s jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “Because of what I am,” he said bitterly, his eyes dark with pain. “Because society sees me as some kind of monster.”

You closed the distance between you, reaching out to take his hands in yours. “You’re not a monster, Logan. You’ve never been a monster to me. But the nature of your abilities… they see it as something monstrous, something that could never belong in my world. My father, society—they would never accept it, never accept us.”

Logan looked down at your joined hands, his expression torn between anger and heartbreak. “So this is it, then?” he asked quietly, his voice rough with emotion. “You’re just going to let them take you away from me?”

Your breath hitched, tears slipping down your cheeks. “I don’t have a choice,” you whispered, the words feeling like daggers in your chest. “But I need you to know… I love you, Logan. I’ve loved you since the moment we met. And I’ll never stop loving you, no matter what happens.”

Logan’s eyes met yours, his gaze filled with a deep, unspoken anguish. He pulled you into a fierce embrace, holding you as if he could somehow shield you from the world, from the fate that was tearing you apart. “I love you too,” he whispered against your hair, his voice thick with the pain of a thousand unspoken words.

You clung to him, the two of you standing there, lost in the moment, the weight of your impending separation hanging over you like a dark cloud. You knew that this was goodbye, that once you stepped out of that room, your life would be dreadfully bound to another, and the future you had dreamed of with Logan would be nothing more than a memory.

Logan slowly pulled away, his hands lingering on your shoulders as if he couldn’t bear to let go. “I’ll be waiting for you” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, tears streaming down your face as you tried to memorise every detail of his face, every line, every mark. “I’ll always carry you with me, Logan. In my heart.”

He gave you one last, lingering look before stepping back, the distance between you growing wider with every second. He opened the door and left without another word, the sound of it closing behind him echoing in the silence.

You stood there, the emptiness overwhelming as you tried to steady your breathing, trying to prepare yourself for the life you were about to enter—a life without him.

As the music began to play in the hall, signalling the start of the ceremony, you took one last, deep breath, and whispered into the empty room, “I love you, Logan.”

Mars speaks... (again) pt.2 anyone?

[that-student-that-has-homework]

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Genshin Impact

Rationality of Emotion Chapter 3 (Al-Haitham x Reader)

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You WILL Have my Herbs Chapter 7 (Diluc x Reader)

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Jujutsu Kaisen

How to Write a Gojo x Reader Part 2

Part 2 to this Summary: Some more insights as to your friendship with Gojo and his adopted children. Gojo also has to deal with the fact that you won't be single forever and he has some things to say before he has to deal with Shibuya. Word Count Stats: Current: 216 word Outline Estimated Final: ~2000 - 4000 words +/- 500 words To Sponsor: 2000 - 3500 words

One Piece

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Louder than Words Part 2

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That Went a Little Too Well  

Summary: You’re being bullied by the local mean girls for thinking Fire Fist was better looking than Cavendish. He’s flattered. Oh yeah, turns out he was actually on the island. Word Count Stats: Current: ~ 300 Estimated Final: ~ 2500 - 4500 words +/- 500 words To Sponsor: 2200 - 3700 words

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Therapeutic

Oneshot + Could be Platonic Summary: The Strawhats rescue a spa worker from slave traffickers. She gives the crew and their guest spa treatments. Needless to say the ever so tense, ever so stressed Captain of the Heart Pirates needs a decent amount of work. Word Count Stats: Current: ~ 740 Estimated Final: ~ 2500 - 4500 words +/- 500 words To Sponsor: 1760 - 3260 words

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Admiration

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Haikyuu

I’ll Marry Ya/Marriage Pact Part 2 (Miya Osamu X Reader)

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[the-kr8tor]

Our Place in the Middle of Nowhere

Pairing: Cowboy! Hobie Brown x Fem! Reader

Word count: 85.4k (complete)

Summary: You run away from home in search of something, an escape from fate. Danger lies in the west to the south, it lurks between the trees and the mountains you pass. Will you succeed? Or will death come for you in the middle of nowhere?

Tags: Cowboy! Hobie, Fem! Reader, No specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing occasionally), Former lovers, second chances, lovers to strangers to lovers, set in the 1800s, wild west AU, cowboy AU, CW injury, CW guns, CW violence, CW blood and death.

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*photos are from Pinterest*

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Hobie cowboy outfit references (1) (2)

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[hazbinhotelreimaginedproject]

Hazbin Hotel reimagine/redesign! (For fun!)

Part 4. Husk and Niffty

TW/// Lobotomy

🥃😾Husk//Dom😾🥃

Reimagined!Husk desc:

An African American man from the 1800s who always had an infatuation with money, ownership and risk. When he was killed due to a bet, he quickly became an overlord, his name synonymous with power and greed. ↓↓↓

He opened up casinos and bars, traded souls, and soon owned almost the entire Pentagram city. Untill the day Alastor tricked him into gambling his soul away. He lost all his power, assets and even his colours, turning black and white like the rest of The Radio Demon's henchmen.

Instead of his schtick being 'the bartender who listens to everybody's problems' its more of 'the bartender who has done everything cool, weird and/or illegal you could think of and knows how to navigate any situation' (think Skips from Regular Show).

🧵🐞Niffty🐞🧵

Reimagined!Niffty desc:

Niffty was a housewife who accidentally killed her husband. Her comedy is in the niche of 'does something innocent in an unnerving/threatening way'. The inside joke is that she'll kill everybody at the hotel in their sleep, but that is immediately thrown out when they find out why she's in hell.

Her husband found her so annoying and clingy that he lobotomized her. She still had the capacity to do daily chores but couldn't focus on the world around her, so one day she accidentally pushed him down the stairs, breaking his neck. Her character's significance is that she was a trusting victim, but when the abuser's methods backfired, she had to shoulder all the blame.

Alastor didn't even need to claim her soul since she followed him everywhere. She claims he reminds her of her husband, but she does say that to every man she meets...

Damn, that one sure is pretty morbid, hopefully canon Niffty doesn't get to suffer as much!

[thesimline]

Hi, I'm Amy AKA The Simline.

From the first time I saw Singin' in the Rain as a kid I've been costume obsessed, and The Sims helps me channel that nerdery into CC curation and lookbooks influenced by history, television, movies, current events and all manner of creative inspiration. Because I cover such a broad range of styles I thought I'd gather everything into a pinned master post for ease of navigation.

I'm really happy to have you here and I hope you enjoy your stay!

Medieval ✺ Renaissance ✺ Tudor ✺ Baroque

Georgian ✺ Rococo ✺ Victorian

1300s ✺ 1400s ✺ 1500s

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HISTORICAL (1300s TO 1800s)

Historical CC Finds ✺ Historical Lookbooks

DECADES (1900s TO 1990s)

Decades CC Finds ✺ Decades Lookbooks

MISCELLANEOUS

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[unhetalia]

super happy you like omegaverse! its such a shame how hard it is to find good omega alfred fanfic. or even posts on tumblr.

i was thinking today about people (and even other nations) underestimating alfred because of his omega status. many try to force him into submission or chastise him for trying to "be like an alpha" and it irritates the absolute fuck out of him. like who said an omega couldn't be a national superpower?! its 2024 NOT the 1800's!!

I am always torn about whether or not I want Alfred as a beta or an omega (or a temporary alpha I can bitch). Whichever one he is, he will have ISSUES.

I think if he was an alpha, he would always feel the need to perform, but secretly it would all just be exhausting.

As a beta, I think it would be about being underestimated in a different way — I imagine a society that's centred on alphas and omegas. Alphas have power, omegas nurture, and betas are "spares". Maybe people frown on alpha/beta pairings. Betas aren't as fertile, so it's considered a "waste" to be with one. They're practice for serious relationship. If England was an alpha, Alfred brings all sorts of baggage by being a beta. It fascinates me! I am first and foremost a beta rights activist.

Lastly, there's omega Alfred. Absolutely he would always be hounded about being too much. Too loud, too assertive. Too unlike an omega. People make comments about "reeling him in". This makes the Ivan and Alfred dynamic fascinating to me in particular. This is complicated for me as someone trying to navigate that dynamic in a universe where Alfred isn't involved with his government, and in one where I don't see Ivan as particularly happy with his, so I don't think their conflict would be about the zcold War in particular, BUT I do like them having tension for other reasons, and I think people are sure that Ivan will put Alfred in his place (he doesn't) and that America's Nation being an omega somehow means something regarding who is going to "win" the Cold War (it doesn't).