#and I’d love your opinions on fabric choice

[wisteria-html]

you are entirely too selfless, wisteria. would it be a bother if I kept you company while you worked? -Chris

Yeah I’d love that! I won’t be able to post much on here but I’d love your company and could show you the sewing studio!

[clandestinegardenias]

The C(r)ozier Cowl (with pattern!)

I FINALLY DID IT, and I'm so incredibly pleased with how it turned out (it's also maybe the warmest scarf I've ever knit, the Terror costume design people knew what they were doing)

Details and pattern below the cut, along with more pics!

Details:

This infinite loop cowl is a knit recreation of the scarf/cowl worn by Captain Francis Crozier in the first season of the tv show The Terror (2018).

The choice of yarn is, in my opinion, very important to the accuracy of the result. The pattern is quite simple, so getting the right yarn makes a big impact. My suggested yarn is below.

This is knitted in seed stitch at a very tight gauge, using a worsted weight yarn on size 4 needles. This produces a gauge consistent with the scarf from the show (did I measure Jared Harris’ eye and use it to calculate gauge from a photo of Crozier wearing the scarf? MAYBE SO). It makes the knitting a little hard on the hands, but the resulting fabric is DELIGHTFUL—super dense, and since the cowl is knit as a tube it's double thick and, in my experience, nearly entirely windproof. THIS IS A VERY WARM COWL!

After looking at too many screenshots, I ultimately determined that the article in the show is in fact a scarf (you can see the edge VERY briefly in one shot). However, I have designed my version as a tube cowl, as it more easily reproduces the look of the article as worn in the show (doubled over and in a continuous loop around the neck with no edges visible). You could produce a scarf instead by knitting this flat instead of in the round—cast on the same number of stitches with a long tail cast on, and then only knit/repeat row 1 (consider adding a seldvege edge).

If you have questions or want tips, or just want to show me what you made, hit me up!! I’d love to chat.

Materials:

3 skeins (approx. 660 yards) Cascade 220 Heathers in color 2445 Shire (google it to find purchasing options, or ask your local yarn store to order it!)

Size 4 needles; either 16 inch circulars or double-pointed

Stitch marker

Yarn needle

Instructions:

Provisional CO 72 stitches on size 4 16-inch circular (or double pointed) needles to work in the round. Place marker.

Row 1: k1 p1

Row 2: p1 k1

Repeat until cowl measures approximately 54 inches (4.5 feet; 137 cm) or desired length.

Unpick provisional cast-on, placing live stitches on any spare circular needles or dpns. Kitchener stitch ends together (tutorial for doing so in pattern here).

Wear as a single or double loop.

Now go have some glorious homoerotic tension with your second in command!

[daydreamkissesxo]

Father Charlie x reader| Sinner part 2; The only piece of Heaven I have ever had

Warnings; heavy smut, breeding kink, mentions of body image, blasphemy, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, manipulative priest? (I think that’s all🙈) 18+

My link won’t work to add part 1 but I am trying!😭

Father Charlie paid you little to no attention during mass, he cruelly ignored you for the sake of his own sanity. The thought of you now sat amongst your family completely bare beneath your dress as your arousal seeps through the fabric and onto the church pew made his head spin.

You'd become increasingly agitated by his ignorance, perhaps his idea of repentance was your humiliation.

You'd began to fidget with your fingers nervously as you pray for time to pass faster, desperate for even a glimpse of his attention when he wasn’t occupied by the scriptures of the bible.

Your heart briefly stopped as you watched father Charlie acknowledge a young woman in the front row with a warm smile, a smile he'd always saved for you.

You grew both jealous and hurt, anxious that your confession had pushed him further away.

Mass had ended just as predicted, you'd barely left your seat before a swarm of persistent mothers surround you and your family, their sons left lingering behind.

"Y/N, have you given any more thought to our proposal?" One asked, pushing her way through the small crowd built around the church pew where your family sat.

You were barely present, your eyes fixated on father Charlie who carelessly fiddled with his papers at the alter as he continued to avoid your gaze.

“I’m sorry, I haven’t.” You abruptly reply, rising from your seat only to be met with the hands of another mother as she places them on your hips.

“My love, you have the most precious birthing hips I have ever seen.” She says, gesturing others to look as she nods down at them.

“No doubt a gift from god. You would bear beautiful children.” Another says, her smile warm as she looks up at you with hopeful eyes.

Father Charlie scoffed quietly in disgust as he overheard, his arrangement of the papers in front of him carelessly thrown down as he loses his care for them.

Usually he wouldn’t intervene, but your desperate confession and the unfinished business between the two of you left him with no choice.

He painted on a warm smile and walked over, the crowd immediately dispersing at his voice.

“You seem to be very popular with the precious mothers here, Y/N.” He attempted to sound sincere, though it came off slightly differently.

He saw the lingering look of upset in your eyes as your gaze met his, it was pleasant to know how desperately you longed for his attention.

“Oh Father, Y/N would be just perfect for my son. Wouldn’t you agree?” A woman asks, her eyes lit up with hope as she so greatly valued his opinion.

Of course he disagreed, nobody’s son was worthy of you but he couldn’t entirely crush her spirits due to his own jealousy.

“I’m sure he’d make a wonderful husband to any woman, but I’m not qualified to matchmake anyone here.” He kindly replied, flashing her a warm smile he knew she loved to see.

He turned his attention towards your mother who stood behind you, a kind but stern woman who undoubtedly kept you close.

“Mrs Y/L/N. Would I be able to keep Y/N behind once you leave? I have something I’d like to ask her opinion of.”

She was very trusting of father Charlie, believing that whatever it was he needed you for would only add to your worth as a self respecting Catholic.

“Of course, father Charlie. Y/N would be honoured to help.” she replied, placing her hand on your shoulder to caress it with her thumb.

“Wonderful. It may take a while, but I’ll see to it that she gets home safely.”

No words were spoken as you followed father Charlie back to his office, the silence was unnerving, and now you were left to wonder whether you'd gotten the entire thing so very wrong.

Father Charlie stood aside and held the door open, extending an arm to gesture you in.

Your heart pounded as you prepared yourself for the stern lecture you were expecting, barely able to look at him as you step in.

You jumped slightly at the slam of the door, desperately avoiding his gaze as he turned to face you.

He sensed your nerves, but chose to ignore them as he walked around you and over to his desk.

He cleared his throat, ridding the room of silence as he finally spoke.

"Take your dress off and give it to me." He simply said, removing his stole and neatly folding it before placing it onto his desk.

Such simple instructions and yet you were frozen, barely able to process what you'd just been commanded.

"Do I need to repeat myself, Y/N?" He asked in an oddly calm tone, looking up from his semi unbuttoned cassock.

You dared to glance down at the skin that was now exposed before quickly coming back to your senses out of fear he may grow frustrated with your ignorance, frantically shaking your head.

"No, father."

Your hands fell to the hem of your dress, bunching it up before pulling it upwards and over your head to free your body of it.

Your lower half was left bare while your breasts were held by a simple white lace bra.

In the time it had taken you to remove your dress, father Charlie had discarded the garments from his upper body, leaving him only in black tight fitting trousers with a protruding bulge.

You slowly lifted your head in shame, your eyes widening a little at the sight of his beautifully toned upper body that was always so well hidden.

Your hand trembled as you held out your dress for father Charlie, he smiled so casually as he took the dress from your hands.

He was cautious not to show any dramatic physical reaction to your barely clothed body, but his cock throbbed at the ethereal beauty that stood before him.

You watched as he folded your dress as neatly as his own garments, placing it on the desk beside his vestments.

His patience and self restraint was oddly terrifying, how could anyone have such great control?

He reached for your hand, linking your index finger with his as he gently guided you to stand before him.

He took a moment to admire the beautifully soft skin that you'd always so modestly hidden, his gaze slowly falling to your waist before he very gently took hold of it.

Your hips had gained so much attention amongst the overbearing mothers of the church, and he finally understood why.

They were perfect for bearing a child, one he could only wish would be his.

"It sickens me to think your family would be willing to let such unworthy men defile their beautiful daughter.." he whispers, grazing his fingertips along your skin in search of your hip bone.

Your breath grew audibly heavier, your lips parting in awe as you gaze up at him in wonder.

"Men who would selfishly prioritise their own pleasure and leave you completely dissatisfied. You don't want that, do you?" He asks, his darkened gaze finally meeting yours.

Your heart fluttered at the intensity of his gaze, shaking your head in agreement with his words.

"Not me, Y/N. I'd worship you like I worship the Lord, you'd never live a day dissatisfied."

His hand slipped between your physically wet thighs which you slightly parted to accommodate his touch, his extended middle finger tracing over your folds.

He watched as your eyes widened, your soft gasp being all the encouragement he needed to take it even further.

He slid his finger through your slippery folds, coating it in your dripping arousal before circling your clit with the pad of his fingertip.

Your explosive moan was truly devilish, who knew something so obscene could slip past your innocently soft lips.

He brought his free hand up to your mouth, firmly holding it over your lips to silence you.

"Sh, sweet girl. People will wonder what I'm doing to you.." he chuckled sadistically, amused by the apologetic look in your eyes. 

"Is this what you fantasised about when you touched yourself like this?" He whispered, increasing the speed of his circling touch.

You whimpered against his hand, your knees threatening to buckle as you'd never felt such pleasure.

He glanced over at the small single bed he'd placed beneath a very low window, so low that if he were to continue his carefully planned sexual activity with you beneath it, someone would undoubtedly see.

He slowly withdrew his hand from between your thighs, smirking as you grew visibly upset by the sudden lack of touch.

"I want you to lay on the bed, on your back with your knees bent."

He watched as you complied despite your confusion, bringing his hand up to lips to suck at his drenched fingertip as he followed you over.

He groaned under his breath with pleasure at the taste of your sweet nectar, running his tongue along the tip of his finger to truly savour the taste.

His hands fell to the buttons of his trousers and you watched in anticipation as he unbuttoned them, the sound of the zip coming undone caused a shiver to rush down your spine.

He knew by prolonging your suffering you'd be desperate and willing to comply with anything he asked.

He tucked his thumbs into the waistband of his underwear before slipping both them and his trousers down past his hips and thighs, freeing his painfully hard cock.

Once past his calves, he stepped out of his trousers and stood at the foot of the bed before placing his hands on your knees to spread your legs.

The sheets beneath you were visibly stained as your arousal drip from your aching folds, the cold air that brush past your now exposed core causing goosebumps to spread down your thighs.

"Missionary, because we're in the lords house." He whispered as he lowered his head to press a sloppy kiss to your knee, smirking against it as he felt your knee tremble slightly.

Father Charlie knelt between your thighs, forcing them to part further to accommodate him before he places a hand beside your head to support him as he hovers over you, your folds brushing against his length.

Your body tenses beneath him as you place a trembling hand on his shoulder, staring up at him completely doe eyed with a slightly panicked expression.

"Father..we can't-"

He knew what you were going to say, yet he did not want to hear it, so instead he slid his free hand between your thighs and roughly inserted his middle and index finger into your core knowing the reaction it would gain from you.

Your breathy moan was even more explosive than before, your back began to arch and your head started to tilt back and this time, he didn't silence you.

"I'm saving you, my sweet girl. Do you want another man's dirty hands all over your precious body?" He whispers soothingly, his fingers gliding in and out of you.

"I want you, father. Only you." You moan out desperately, your walls fluttering around his fingers which forces a bead of precum to leak from his tip.

He could no longer prolong his own pleasure after hearing your desperation, withdrawing his fingers to take hold of his length to stroke it in preparation.

He bowed his head to look down at himself, aligning his tip with your hole before very slowly inserting himself.

He groaned as he felt your virginal walls stretch around him, barely able to lift his head as he was so overwhelmed with pleasure but your pained moan forced him to do so.

"You're okay, it'll pass..it's okay." he whispered reassuringly, cupping your cheek softly as he continued to push himself into you until fully inserted.

You winced in discomfort, but the pain was tolerable due to father Charlie's attentive nature.

He waited until the pain had subsided a little before thrusting into you, the moan that escaped your lips with each thrust forced out small moans of his own.

Just knowing he was taking away the privilege from whatever man your family chose to marry you made him crave more of you, he was determined to ruin you for anyone else.

His thrusts increased rapidly, eliciting almost pornographic style moans from your lips.

He watched as your clothed breasts bounced with each movement, cupping one of them before lowering his head to kiss at your collarbone.

"You've always been so special to me, Y/N." He whispered against your skin, releasing his grip from your breast to drag his fingertips down towards your core as it slips between your thighs.

Your hips naturally lifted from the bed in anticipation for his touch, whimpering loudly as his index and middle finger circle your clit at a rapid pace.

It took seconds for your legs to start jerking, your hips bucking upwards while tears flood your waterline.

"Father.." you whisper with uncertainty as your breath trembles, involuntarily throwing your head back as the unknown sensation that builds in your lower stomach grows larger.

You gasp loudly as an unfamiliar wave of pleasure washes over you, tears rolling down your cheeks as your eyes squeeze shut while your body writhes beneath him as you ride it out.

The unholy display of pleasure beneath him was a sight he’d never forget, now he understood why it was so forbidden, addiction to it would be inevitable.

The sensation of your walls tightening around him along with your desperate whimpering brought him to his own climax, yet he had no intention of withdrawing from you to release his seed.

His thrusts faltered as he began to coat your walls with his semen, bowing his head as he could barely find the strength to hold it.

His grunting drowned out the sound of your whimpers, his body slowly collapsing on top of yours while he remained inside of you.

Your body lay paralysed beneath him, panting heavily as you attempt to catch your breath while processing the fact you had unprotected sex with your local priest who didn’t seem to care.

“I..I can get a plan B..” you say timidly as you stare at the ceiling above you, wondering whether the mention of it will force him to realise what he’d done.

He somehow found the energy to lift his head up enough to look down at you, a disapproving expression replacing the pleasure filled one he had a moment ago.

“You will do no such thing, contraception is forbidden. You should know this, sweet girl.”

He had to desperately fight back the smile threatening to appear as he found it all too amusing, unprotected premarital sex with a man of the church was also forbidden though he was willing to bend those rules.

Tagging @2yeshes bc they asked me to, I hope part two meets everyone’s needs🫶🏼

[dokk-fukuro]

On Call. Pt.1

Characters: Dazai Osamu, Nakahara Chuuya Minors DNI

TW: clit play, lingerie, sexting, dirty talk, afab reader

۞₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪۞

Dazai uses phone sex as one of the ways to tease you but keep you from getting what you want. Oh, this bastard has a good tongue. With absolute calmness, he can maintain a frank conversation with you for a long time period.

“I decided to find out how the day is going with the conqueror of my heart,” Osamu coos, left alone in the agency. “Just remembering how you arch your back under me last night. And your moans... Just angelic singing to my ears, and you know me, I'm picky in my choice of music.”

He knows that you are a little embarrassed by his words, but even the thoughts in your head will not allow to stop. Instead, the young man will continue to tease you.

“I can't stop thinking about how beautiful you are when you're in seventh heaven. I’d be very happy to sit you on the table now, pull off your clothes and kiss your skin,” his voice becomes a little quieter, lowers by half an octave and takes on that very seductive husky that drives you crazy. “Get down on my knees in front of you and put my face to your pussy. I bet you already imagine it. Come on, bella, let me hear how wet you are.”

And you really obediently pull off your panties, spread your legs and run your fingers along your wet cunt, collecting moisture on it, hearing a satisfied humming from the other side. Dazai is glad to hear that you are so ready for him.

“I want you to wrap your legs around me while I sink my tongue inside.” You bite your lip, drawing circles around your clit, sometimes pressing on it. “Come on, love, let me hear your voice. Like our last night when I was so deep inside you.”

And you really can't hold back a moan. The bundle of nerves only becomes more sensitive, and every touch to it makes your body shiver a little. You put inside your fingers under his languid exhalation and start to move it. You squirm and shake, when all of a sudden...

“Oh, Belladonna, I have to go now, time waits for no one,” and Osamu leaves you alone with your arousal.

۞₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪۞

When it comes to slutty phone calls, it's not Nakahara that starts it, it's your antics. One day, deciding to tease him, you send him a photo in the fitting room. You are wearing only a set of underwear and an innocent signature “Do you think it suits me?”. What a naughty girl are you. Chuuya takes some time to come up with the most compelling reason why he should leave the meeting room.

“What the hell are you doing?” The red-haired esper hisses through gritted teeth. No, your body does not embarrass him, he is used to your unsurpassed beauty, but the last thing he wants is for someone else to see it. You just innocently coo that you wanted to know his opinion, because “he should pull this underwear off you.”

Whatever you say, Chuuya has problems with self-control. He doesn't need too much to get turned on.

“You wanted to know my opinion, right?” Nakahara smirks unkindly, and you can feel it on your skin. Chills and a herd of goosebumps literally run through your neck. “My opinion is this: my naughty girl wants me to fuck her so that she can barely stands. Choose, doll: we’ll fuck on the table, on the couch, on the bed or on the floor? For such a trick, you will have to try very hard so that I let you cum.”

When he is on edge, you can say exactly and for sure only one thing: Chuuya doesn’t throw words into the wind. And the understanding that he may well take you from the doorway as soon as he comes home makes you bring your legs together. You are already turned on by how aggressive the redhead is in his expressions. And from his heavy breathing, only two things can be stated: he is now alone with himself, and he is trying to calm down his boner in order to recoup on you upon his return.

"So what, doll? I can't hear your answer,” Chuuya almost growls, squeezing his hard cock through the fabric of his tight pants. “Or do you want me to push you against the wall while I thrust into you from behind? The sooner you answer, the better for you.”

Looks like you're really in big trouble.

[newtonsheffield]

I just love the idea of Anthony B spending exorbitant amounts of money on his wife. Every day he comes home with a little gift for her.

He comes home every day from parliament with a bouquet of flowers behind his back and hands them over with a grin and a flourish. And Kate rolls her eyes as he sits in the chair usually meant for mothers at the modiste.

“You’ll have to excuse Lord Bridgerton,” Kate sighed staring at her husband in the mirror while the Modiste pinned up the hem. “He insisted seeing I accompanied him to the tailor she should accompany me here.”

“Don’t worry,” Anthony smiled, “I haven’t any strong opinions.”

The modiste left to get something from the back and Anthony peered over in his wife’s direction, a curious expression on his face. “Are we trying any Ah… more intimate items today, Viscountess?”

Kate laughed, rolling her eyes at him, “Not today, I’ve rather enough don’t you think?”

“I’d hardly complain, though I must say I prefer you in nothing at all.”

“We’re in public.” She hissed at him, but she could tell he wasn’t a bit bothered and truthfully neither was she.

“Oh haven’t you heard? I’m a Rake, everyone knows that, Love. You reminded me of it constantly last season.”

Kate turned back to examine herself in the mirror, “Most husbands would be glad that I were saving them money.”

Anthony leaned back in his chair, “I hardly need to pinch my Pennies.”

“I didn’t realise you were so set on spending our children’s inheritance, Darling.”

Anthony sat up straighter, “Do we… have any children to inherit?”

Kate’s smile softened, “Not yet, but I hope soon we will.”

“I hope so too.” Madam Delacroix came back into the room, and Anthony stood, clapping his hands together. “I believe, when everything is to your satisfaction with this dress, and it is lovely by the way, that Lady Bridgerton would like to see some fabrics for nightgowns. Perhaps some of that very expensive lace, we saw on the way in. Yes?”

And what choice did Kate have but to sigh, “Yes, that would be nice.”

[gi-nathlam-hi]

Ugh the Celebrimbor and Annatar stuff this episode was SO GOOD! Tell me where is Elrond though, I feel like I haven’t seen him since episode 2🥲 hopefully the next couple of episodes will make up for the Elrond lack.

I’d love to hear your more in depth thoughts about this season so far sometime, no pressure of course! But you always have such balanced and knowledgable opinions on this show. I’m liking the season so far, but have some major problems with it still and have come to the conclusion that it’s probably never going to be what I want it to be, and that’s ok! I do love the community around it though, and reading everyone’s thoughts and theories, and I love your blog!

I'm super late to responding to this but holy god yeah. Just in general the Eregion plotline is carrying this entire season. Though the Numenor plotline is doing a lot of interesting things, too! Thank you so much for the ask.

Under the cut for potential spoilers (I am not being super specific in this at all though, but I want to be safe!)

As for some Season 2 opinions, I'm trying to withhold a lot of judgement until we reach the finale, but there have been some things they've done/lines they've chosen to use which are rather...how shall I put this...lore breaking? I will probably have to do a rewatch of the series and take notes. There are certain moments which stand out to me (most of them being in the uh. Really, really, really bad Rhun plotline. I want to like the Stranger & Poppy and Nori, I really do, but it's just...not. good). A couple lines said by Cirdan and moments in the Lindon-focused episode also come to mind. It's frustrating because the writers seem to grasp so many things about the lore and Middle Earth and Tolkien's themes -- and in general they do a good job! But there are a few moments where they miss the mark so widely that it's honestly lore-breaking - much of that has to do with choices they're making regarding the nature of Ainur and uh, the rings, but again I think I'll have to do a rewatch and take notes on the parts that really irk me to be able to explain myself properly. My criticisms in that regard are mostly vague right now.

But I love what they're doing with the dwarves. I adore what they're doing with orcs. I love the characterization of Elrond (though I have no doubt that a huge chunk - at least 70% if not more has to do with Rob being the one who's playing him). And of course the exploration of gaslighting and abuse within the Eregion plotline is so well-written that it's astounding to me. I love that they are being so clear that Sauron is a manipulative, truly evil asshole. They're not making excuses for him. They're not trying to romanticize things or soften things, neither do they try to excuse his behavior in interviews and bonus content either. Sauron sucks. He's a manipulative abuser and I'm so relieved that this is the direction they went with him. Sure, he's sexy as hell while he's doing it, but...how else can I put this...they're not turning that sexiness into an excuse, you know? It just makes it that much more unsettling and scary how sexy and charismatic he is.

Also from a production perspective I'm so pleased to see just how much more time, budget, and allowance was given to the props and costuming department! The thing is -- it's not that the costumes last season were bad, necessarily, but it was painfully obvious that the (immensely skilled, if you look at the roster!) costuming department simply wasn't given enough time and budget to make anything competitive. And while I hate that the show has been forced into competition with other fantasy shows (House of the Dragon, cough cough), it's simply a reality that people are comparing the two, and House of the Dragon's costuming had, thus far, simply been far superior in terms of tailoring, structure, and quality of fabric. They're not really super comparable (Game of Thrones has always gone for prop/costuming realism -- taking more direct inspiration from historical fashion, vs the Rings of Power's art department clearly taking inspiration from Romantic and Baroque art). I'm really pleased to see that they've stuck to their art direction while being obviously given the appropriate time to create something of higher quality. The difference between the fabrics and tailoring from S1 to S2 (as well as the wig quality, holy shit), is just astronomical.

This season in general just feels like a massive upgrade to season one. I loved season one. I didn't really think it was very good, but it was fun. Whereas season two I'm slowly transitioning into "this is good. this is well made" (with the unfortunate exceptions of Rhun and certain moments in Lindon, but that again comes down to writing which bafflingly continues to be a weak point. I say baffling because now the writers have proved to me that they are capable of writing some truly incredible stuff via the Eregion arc. So I simply don't understand how we got the Eregion arc alongside uh. Some really glaringly awful writing in the Rhun arc. And it's such a shame because the art direction and production in Rhun is so good. I wish the writing lived up to it).

I'm a bit nervous for the time budget for the finale, but I'm withholding judgement until we have it in our hands.

Anyway thanks for giving me the opportunity to ramble! I have more thoughts for sure, but this is what comes to my mind off the top of my head lol.

[the-colourful-witch]

Okay, to add on to my earlier Ask, I really wanna go into why I love your Yule Ball Dress stuff so much.

Luna:

I feel like every single one of you designs for her captured the eccentric and bold, but still soft and kind aspect of her character that she displays. Before I get into this, I wanna reiterate that I adore all the designs and if I prefer one it doesn’t mean I dont like the other, it just means I feel like it suits the girls better. The dresses are all gorgeous.

My least favourite would be number 2. I think that in the 90s, the dress has quite a hippie but still common vibe even if its a little old-fashioned. I feel like it doesn’t stand out as much as the others, but the style is beautiful. The vest is what stands out the most for me. If they weren’t Wizards this dress would make the most sense realistically, but as they are I think she would have more access to crazy, whimsical materials and designs. My favourite thing about this dress is the skirt. It looks exactly like one of those flowers that hang upside down, haha. I forgot to add, the hairpiece really suits Luna in my opinion

In 5th place, I’d put dress number 1. I love the pattern of the dress, but my opinion of this one is about the same as dress number 2. The only this is higher is because I am very very biased when it come to puffed sleeves. I also love the slight colouring and speckled pattern that’s on the sleeves and neck even if its subtle.

For 4th place, I had an extremely hard time deciding. It breaks my heart to put this in 4th place, but I’m putting dress number 5 here. This is my favourite if I was to wear a dress out of all these options. I love the colour, I love the corset, I love the short ruffle sleeves, I love the loopy embroidery, I love the corset, I love the flowers in her hair, I love the boots, I love the necklace and I love the corset. I really love the corset if you couldn’t tell. The shape of the big skirt is really cute. But I think once again she would have a more adventurous pattern. I’m so sad that I am doing this to myself but this would not be what I imagine for Luna. I mean, this girl wore a hat with a Lion and an Eagle in some strange combination but still pulled it off without a care. I love her. Anyway I’m getting off track. I think this is a little simple once again but I still adore the design. I think one day I might get this made professionally if I can ever afford it, would you be alright with that? The boots are really nice too. I personally love this style of fancy dresses with boots so this is number 1 for myself and in general but I dont think this fits Luna the best.

In 3rd place I will put dress number 3. It’s beautiful and I love the kooky Alice in Wonderland Vibe. I think this one really suits her and I like all the sharp edges on the design. I feel like it gives a nice contrast to the rest of the softer, more pastel and more flower colours and designs. But, I agree with you that the pastel ones are my favourite for her. I really adore the jewels and shiny stuff all over the dress. It really drives home the wacky aspect in a way I can’t really explain.

My second favourite is number 6. I feel like the space buns are what makes the outfit something that really screams Luna. The dress and cut is gorgeous and I love the heart shaped neckline, but my favourite part is the print on the dress. The ballerinas are so delicate and elegant, but still uncommon cos back then people usually didn’t get fabrics with patterns of humans. That sounds way creepier than I intended. But it’s really beautiful, and space buns are also one of my own favourite hairstyles, so this is number 2.

My favourite one, is definitely dress number 4. From the elegant up-do with leaves in her hair, to the crystal looking booties, this entire outfit is perfect. The dress is really good. The pattern on the skirt is gorgeous and I think that the zodiac signs were a really good choice for her. I love the green tights because it gives it a more playful vibe as compared to just elegant, and I think that playfulness is really important because she would have been 13 and it’s a part of her character. The see through tulle is really pretty and it makes it looks like it’s very nature like. The bodice is perfect as well because we all know that she would have put real plants on it if she had gone to the ball. It just really suits her and I love the design.

Okay that’s all that I have to say but I wanna reiterate that I really do love all the designs and I’m so happy you out so much effort and thought into each of them. Your really great! I’ll do Ginny and Hermione in a separate ask, but what do you agree/disagree with from what I’ve said?

I read your piece three times and I couldn't agree more! Like, when I draw these design sheets, I'm mostly thinking as I go. I think things like: what are the things she would wear at that age? What would she be interested in? Is she crafty? Or thrifty? Things like that :) I agree with your top 6. I also think the 70s dress isn't the right fit for Luna at the Yule Ball. I do think it's something she'd wear, maybe in a more casual setting, with slightly less saturated colour. I should do a drawing on that... Anyway, your top three! Agreed, 100%. The green plants and zodiac dress is my favourite, too. She could have put that whole outfit together in her spare time after classes. That's the idea I wanted to go with. I am a little biased about the purple dress, I loved making that one. I feel like maybe she would have worn something like that at a Christmas party when she was a little bit older. It's a slightly more sophisticated look. I love that you pick all these things up from my drawings. I just finished my bachelor's in illustration and storytelling and the main thing I always focus on is telling the story I want people to see/hear. There is a story in the dress designs and you've managed to find them. I love that! It's so wonderful. I'm really curious about your thoughts on the other girls I've already done. I'd be happy to hear what you think :) Finally, if you ever find a way to make the pink dress, be my guest! And send me the photos! It would be an honor! And I think I would cry, just a little bit, from happiness.

[joy-of-life88]

Can I love again? [a Roman Reigns story] 29 Reveal

It rang at the door just as I was making myself a snack. Since Roman was in the shower, I had no choice but to waddle to the door and see who it was.

"Vanessa, hi!" said as I opened the door and one of Roman's sisters stood in front of me.

"There's the baby mama! How are you?" she asked as she walked in and gave me a hug.

"I am doing fine. How are you? What brings you here? I thought I'd see you at the baby shower later?" I wanted to know.

"I'm perfectly fine. I'm just here to bring you this." she replied, holding a gift bag in front of my face.

"What's this?" I asked as I took the bag in my hand.

"This, my dear sister-in-law, is your outfit for the party. We picked it out together with Mom. It fits the theme. We hope you like it." she said excitedly.

"Oh that's so great of you guys! Thank you." I said as I pulled the contents out of the bag.

A beautiful dress came to light. It was lavender with white lace. I gently stroked my fingers over the fabric and was totally touched. It was really sweet how much effort they put in for us and how much thought they put into the details. Again and again during the last weeks Roman's sisters had called me to talk about one thing or another or to ask me for my opinion. But without revealing too much. They wanted the result to be a big surprise for me and Roman.

"You're welcome. I have to get going again. Summer is already waiting for me. And Marytza is picking up the cake right now. I'll see you later, sweetie. Tell Roman to not be late." she replied, and then gave me a kiss on the cheek.

She then went on her way again. I looked at the dress in my hands once more. It made me very curious what the theme was, but luckily I only had to wait a few more hours.

"Who was at the door, angel?" asked Roman standing in the bedroom in nothing but a towel wrapped rather loosely around his hips.

"It was Vanessa. She brought me a surprise. Look!" I said, showing him the dress.

"Wow, that looks great. I can't wait to see you wear it. Although I definitely prefer less." he replied as he wrapped his arms around me and my baby bump.

"I feel the same way about you, mister. Too bad I have to take a shower to get ready for the party. You took forever, Romeo," I replied as I stood on my tiptoes to kiss him.

"You don't usually complain when I take my time." he smirked as his hands rubbed over my hips.

"That's true. Maybe you should just join me in the shower." I said and pulled him closer to me.

"I've just finished," Roman replied.

"So?" I asked, at the same time loosening the towel he was wearing.

-----

"Welcome to your baby shower!" said Summer as she opened the double doors for Roman and me, and we got our first look at the room and decorations.

"Oh my goodness!" I gasped.

Everything looked absolutely perfect. They had decorated everything in lavender and white. Lace details could be seen everywhere. It seemed like they had really thought of everything. Even the food and beverages matched the color theme.

Vanessa joined us and put a beverage in everyone's hand before Summer asked for attention to make a toast.

"As you may have guessed, Y/N, the theme for today is lavender and lace. We're all so happy to have you as part of our big, crazy family. And we can't wait to welcome the newest member of the family. I guarantee that not only Roman, but all of us will spoil your daughter. We love you, Y/N and Roman. And we love your nugget."

Everyone started cheering and clapping. It was really magical. I was so lucky.

Tears of joy slowly ran down my cheeks as Roman put his arm around my waist and gave me a kiss on my hair. Words were not necessary, because I knew he was as moved as I was.

We spent the afternoon playing silly games, eating and drinking, and of course unpacking gifts. Among them was a very special gift. It was a hand knitted blanket with our daughter's initials. A.H.R.

Roman's mom had insisted on knowing at least the first letters of her name, because she wanted to be able to give her gift a personal touch. And she succeeded. It was absolutely perfect and I would treasure the blanket forever.

"So... you promised us that we would find out her name today. I can't stand the suspense any longer." Mom said at one point.

"Well, we thought about it for a long time because we wanted a beautiful name that has a special meaning. Finally we found the perfect name for our princess and we think you will love it as much as we do.

When we welcome our daughter into this world in about 8 weeks, she will be named Anastasia Hope Reigns. Anastasia means resurrection and Hope I don't have to explain to you. This name perfectly represents the path that Y/N and I have walked to stand here before you today," Roman explained to the family and our friends.

I looked up at him and saw how proud he was. So was I. For both of us, the name for our nugget meant a lot. Just like the ring on my finger, the name and our little one represented the past, the present, and most importantly, the future.

[cinderswrites]

Frayed ::

eight

When Rhea arrived home after the long walk from the palace, she was feeling drained and exhausted. Portia met her at the door and helped her into the drawing room. They sat on the couch together as Rhea pulled off her ill-fitting shoes. They were only smaller by a few centimeters, but they began to pinch and tug the longer she’d walked. Portia began tending to her feet while Rhea recounted the day at the palace.

“Sounds like it went well,” Portia said as she cleaned the blisters on her heels and toes, “I’m excited for you to meet with Lysandra tomorrow.”

“Yes,” Rhea said softly. She thought of the king and what happened right before she departed. “Portia? We’re friends, right?”

Portia looked up at her with a smile, “Of course, Rhea.”

“I can count on you to keep something hush-hush, right?”

The maid smoothed a salve over the blisters as she nodded. “Yes, you can.”

“I’m afraid…” Rhea’s voice lowered to just above a whisper, “I’m afraid something’s wrong with the king.”

“What do you mean?”

“He acted so strangely at lunch, and later he accused me of being a trollop. He knows about yesterday, Portia. And probably about that first day when I was out on town. Someone is spying on me and reporting back to him and I’m not sure why.”

Portia sat up, her thin eyebrows furrowed together in concern. “What did he say to you exactly?”

Rhea repeated the words that had been ringing in her head the whole way home. “Cynfael just brushed it off, but there’s something really wrong with him. When he was right in front of me, he had this… aura to him. Dark and tangible and dangerous. And when the prince showed up, it completely disappeared. He visibly changed and looked like a senile old man when he walked off.”

The maid finished bandaging her feet and sat back on the couch, her face showing she was deep in thought. “You don’t suppose he might be enchanted?” she asked.

“Is that even a thing?”

Portia shrugged, “Your family was blessed by a sea witch, Rhea. Perhaps she’s the one to ask? She seems sort of… magical.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Rhea sighed.

“Oh, speaking of. We received a message today,” Portia stood and went to a small table near the wall. “I think it’s about your family.”

Rhea took the letter from her and unfolded it. In Thelma’s careful handwriting, it said: We will be making the return trip home tomorrow and are expected to arrive two days later. I expect to find you both waiting at the door to help us settle in.

“So we have three days left?” Rhea folded the letter back up. “It feels like no time at all, now. If I’d known how exhausted I would be right now, I might have just stayed inside and stayed a slave.”

“Rhea!” Portia scolded. “How can you say that? You’ve met wonderful people and have wonderful opportunities ahead of you!”

Rhea waved her hand dismissively, “I know, Portia, don’t blow your top. I’m just lamenting my sore feet and legs.”

“Let’s just focus on tomorrow, and perhaps you’ll have a better idea of what to do after sleeping.”

She nodded in agreement and Portia left to start making their dinner meal. The rest of the evening was spent in the drawing room, relaxing and having tea, talking and joking about different things.

***

“Ah! Welcome, welcome. Come in, love.”

Lysandra was the stark opposite of Lady Shaw in every way. She was an incredibly tall woman with curves and wildly curly hair the color of honey that was cut above the shoulders, and thick glasses that made her hazel eyes look bigger than they were, almost comically so. She sported bright pink lipstick, a bold color choice in her opinion. Rhea noticed that her dress looked similar to hers in that it wasn’t quite fancy like Lady Shaw’s, but also not typically a commonfolk dress. Her voice was punchy and positive, bright and cheerful.

The shop was in complete disarray. Mannequins toppled over, fabrics thrown carefree, pins sticking out of even the shop’s curtains. Lysandra had an air about her that said she knew where everything was. “My dear cousin Elara said you’re in need a job, was it?”

Rhea followed her carefully through the crowded shop to a pair of sofas in the back near what looked to be a fitting room. Just down from that room was a door she assumed led to Lysandra’s office. “Yes, that’s correct,” Rhea said.

“Don’t worry about being so formal all the time, love!” Lysandra sat on one of the couches, gesturing to the other one. “I’m not as terrifying as she can be.”

Rhea smiled at the tease, “Thank you.”

“You made the dress you’re wearing, right?” It was a white floral patterned simple dress, professional looking and comfortable.

Rhea nodded, “Yes, I made it myself. I hand sew all my garments.”

“Heavens! How are your hands?” Lysandra let out a boisterous laugh, startling Rhea with the sheer volume of it. “Bet they’re made of leather, eh? Manipulating a needle back and forth requires some thick skin, if I do say so myself.”

“A-ah, yes, I suppose so,” Rhea chuckled awkwardly.

“Tell me about your process, love,” the older woman said, leaning to the side and casually pulling her legs up beside her to relax more comfortably.

Maybe it was the atmosphere or the fact that this was probably her last chance to secure an apprenticeship, but Rhea decided to be honest. “Apologies if this sounds frank, but everything I’ve made is recycled from the fabrics my family tosses out. I’ve not been able to purchase new clothing for myself, so I learned how to sew and worked on making myself new dresses from their trash. I color match and cut around the tattered edges and sew them together to fit myself.”

Lysandra whistled low, “Aww, hell, love. I know a thing or two about having a not-so-happy home life. I can see why my cousin didn’t hire you. She’s got quite the stick up her arse.”

Rhea stifled a startled giggle and shrugged one shoulder slightly, “I’ve never had training and I don’t know how to tailor to someone else.”

“That’s stupid,” the woman said outright. “Of course you don’t! You haven’t had the chance yet. I think, given so, you’d do a fine job fitting a garment on someone else.”

“R-really?”

“Yes, love!” Lysandra grinned, “You didn’t say anything about using measuring tools and the fact that you’ve created things quite as lovely as what you’re wearing now just by eyeballing it says a lot about your natural skills. I think that’s something to be proud of, and something to nurture.”

“So you’re saying…?” Rhea was hesitant to ask.

“If you want to work here, love, I’d be happy to have you.”

She couldn’t believe her so readily. “I don’t know how to use a machine.”

“Ach,” Lysandra scoffed, “you can learn.”

“I don’t know what’s flattering on a figure, or the latest trends.”

“Does it look like I do?” Lysandra threw her arms up to motion towards the shop and laughed. “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, love. And your eye has a keen detail of seeking that out.”

Rhea was overcome with emotions at having someone finally giving her the chance to prove her potential. The feeling swelled in her chest and came out in the form of sudden tears. “Oh, heavens, I’m sorry,” she sobbed softly, “I’m not sure what came over me.”

Lysandra got up and walked over, handing her a handkerchief. She sat down next to her and put an arm over her shoulders and hugged her close. She reminded Rhea of her mother and made her feel like a little girl getting a hug again. How long had it been since she’d been hugged like that? It didn’t do anything to stop the tears and she pressed the handkerchief to her mouth to stifle her sobs.

“Oh, love,” the older woman cooed. “Catching a break finally after going through something so terrible must be a relief like no other. I’m sorry you’ve had bad days. The job’s yours if you want it. I can’t pay terribly well, but I imagine with your designs, it won’t be long before the salary increases.”

“T-thank you,” Rhea said, her voice muffled.

“I’ll make us some tea. Are you feeling hungry?” Lysandra pulled away and got to her feet, heading for the door Rhea looked at earlier.

“A little,” she admitted.

“I’ll grab a couple of pastries, too, then. Just wait here, love.”

Lysandra opened the door and disappeared through it. Rhea took the handkerchief and dried her face, feeling calm and at ease for once. The older woman came back with a tray full of goodies, setting it down on a small table. They snacked and drank tea for a while. As Rhea was leaving, she said, “Thank you again, Lady Clarke.”

“Oi!” Lysandra snapped lightheartedly. “There’ll be none of that in my shop. Call me Lysandra, Sandy, or anything else other than lady.”

Rhea laughed, “Sure thing. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bright and early, love!”

While the day was still young, Rhea wandered the town a little aimlessly. She had a lot on her mind, with the return of her family in a few days and the start of her new job. What would she tell her father? Thelma? She imagined the horrid woman would find things to tie up her time and prevent her from leaving. And what of the matter with the king? Was it her place to do anything about it? She cared for Cynfael deeply as her childhood friend, but she had no stronger feelings than that. As friends, she should be worried about his father, right?

She walked east towards the forest with no clear direction. She was so caught up in her own mind, she didn’t hear the captain’s voice calling to her from down the street. Alaric noticed the distracted way she walked, seeming deep in her own thoughts. He glanced around once before jogging up to her, placing his hand on her upper arm to get her attention. She turned around, surprised. “Oh, hello,” she said.

“Good afternoon, Lady Rhea,” he smiled at her, “are you… feeling well? I was calling your name a short moment ago.”

Rhea blushed in embarrassment and let out a nervous giggle, “Really? I’m sorry. I’ve a lot on my mind today.”

“Care to ease your load?” he offered.

She sighed, “I’m not sure how much I should say. I’ll inform you of the good news, first: I’ve got a job secured with the seamstress Lysandra. I start tomorrow.”

“That’s fantastic!” Alaric praised, grinning. “But, what happened with the palace seamstress?”

“Lady Shaw said I was too inexperienced, but she’s also the one that put a good word in with Lysandra for me, so it didn’t turn out too bleak.” Rhea explained.

Alaric could see that something still overshadowed her happiness, “That’s not all, is it?”

Rhea looked around, spotting a few people milling about and gestured with a nod of her head. “Come with me for a moment?”

Without waiting for an answer, she turned back to the direction she was going and continued until the street ended and the path went from stone to dirt. They walked for a ways inside the forest until she could barely hear any sounds from the town. Alaric chuckled awkwardly, “This is quite out of sight, don’t you think?”

Rhea gave him an odd look, “That’s sort of the point.”

The man’s face suddenly felt hot and his pulse quickened, “O-oh! I mean, my Lady, I didn’t think you were this forward—“

Rhea’s face flushed pink as a rose in full bloom at his implications. “Captain Alaric!” her flustered tone was sharp, “I have a serious concern to speak with you about, and there’s no time for whatever jokes you’re thinking of.”

“Ah, right,” he cleared his throat and shuffled his weight between his feet, feeling a tinge of shame. “Apologies, my Lady. What concerns you?”

She took a look around, unable to shake the feeling of being watched. It was a feeling that hadn’t eased up since she left the palace, and it was harder to ignore now. She stepped closer to the captain, lowering her voice. “I may come off as paranoid, but something happened at the palace the other day, and I’m afraid someone might be watching us, or me, at least.”

Alaric looked around as well, scanning the surroundings. They were in the middle of a forest trail, not too far from town, but mostly they were alone. He didn’t see or hear anything with his trained eyes and ears. “I wouldn’t say paranoid, perhaps.”

She sighed, “Please just listen to me, okay?”

Alaric nodded and she went into detail about the lunch and what King Gareth had said to her before she left. Uneasiness washed over him and he pursed his lips once she finished, taking a moment to think over it. “I hear your concerns, and I understand that something like that could be cause to question. However, I do want to point out that you’ve not interacted with the king before yesterday. If I’m not mistaken, you’ve been shut-in for the entirety of his reign, and you’re not familiar—“

Rhea’s eyes were daggers as she stared at him. “I was not ‘shut-in’ so much as I was prohibited from leaving, Captain,” she said, her voice thick with hurt. “Or did you forget?”

The captain bowed his head sheepishly, “No, I did not.”

“On the contrary, and please excuse me if I’m speaking out of turn, I think my not being out in the public and familiar with King Gareth as a person allows me to see things from a view not so biased. I knew him, as a child, Captain. He was a kind and caring man, and he loved his family more than anything. The man I saw yesterday was a complete stranger. There’s something going on here, and I’m afraid for him.” Rhea spoke passionately, her voice wavering with intense emotions. The pain she felt from the captain’s doubt lingered in her chest.

“And you’re sure it’s not just him showing concern for the prince’s affiliates?”

She shook her head. “He’s never spoken to anyone that way before. Not before he was king. He and Cynfael had a close bond, so he was always around when we played together.”

“What do you suppose we should do, then?”

Rhea sighed, “I don’t know. Maybe keep a closer eye on him? I fear his judgment’s been affected. The prince seems to be at the palace more these days, so if you see anything, let me know?” She turned away, looking everywhere and nowhere at once. “Speaking of, why aren’t you with the prince today?”

“As you’ve said, he’s at the palace more often. My skills are better used elsewhere if I’m not accompanying him,” Alaric told her. “Something you’ve said is troubling me though.”

“What’s that?”

“The king told you it was inappropriate for us to be together, but you haven’t said anything about telling him otherwise,” he pointed out. His tone was a mix of fake seriousness and teasing.

Rhea blushed again, turning her face down to hide a smile. “I’m not sure what you’re getting at, Captain.”

“Of course you’re not,” he continued to tease, looking at her fondly. “I’m sorry, but I must be getting back now. I’ll let you know if I see anything else concerning.”

“Sure,” Rhea nodded. “Oh, if it isn’t too much trouble, my family is returning in two days. I may need some assistance to go to work. If you don’t see me in Lysandra’s shop, could you come to the manor?”

Captain Alaric reached up to deliberately caress her cheek, sending warmth spreading from her chest throughout her body. “I’ll do my best, but I can’t promise you anything.”

“As long as it’s your best,” she smiled happily.

He returned the smile and began walking away.

The captain had just disappeared out of sight when she was alerted to another presence. Rhea turned around quickly, seeing the sea witch standing a few feet behind her, observing her. “I am curious to know what the port master’s daughter is doing in my forest,” Theodora said; the tone of her voice wasn’t hard, and it held a hint of mischief in its soft tones.

“Hello, Theodora,” Rhea replied politely.

“Would you mind joining me in my cottage?” the old woman asked.

“Do I have a choice?”

The sea witch laughed softly, “My child, you always have a choice. Life is filled with them. I simply wish to see how you are doing after this week.”

“Well… alright, then.” Rhea began following her.

[nadiaswritingworld]

More stuff lol (part 3 I think?)

“I doubt it’s anything personal, Maeve,” Gladys says reassuringly. 

I start poking through the racks at Willow Hill, my favorite boutique on Meyne Island. Gladys’s sister, Raquelle, is getting married on Friday and hired me as the entertainment for the reception which is why Gladys and I are both shopping for dresses right now. 

“I don’t see how it couldn’t be personal,” I glance over at her. “He probably thinks I’m aggravating.”

“How can he think you’re aggravating?” Gladys asks as she inspects the dress options in front of her. “He doesn’t even know you, and he’s too busy to even have time to be aggravated with you.”

“Is he always this grumpy?” I ask. 

“Always,” she answers with a nod. “He’s grumpy with all of us nurses, and he’s blunt, but he’s not rude. At least, he doesn’t try to be.”

I can’t help but sigh. It’s rather annoying how I haven’t thought about much else but Dr. Milborough for the past two weeks, and I know that seeing him at the beach three days ago has already just set off another two weeks of me thinking about him. 

The thing is, I don’t even know what it is about him. He’s literally just another man with two eyes, two ears, a nose, a mouth, and all his limbs. Maybe it’s because he’s tall, maybe it’s because he has that accent, maybe it’s because he has gentle gray eyes and strong arms. 

Or maybe it’s because he speaks softly and doesn’t have to shout in order to be heard. Or because he’s polite—enough—and didn’t seem inconvenienced by helping me that day in the grocery store. Or perhaps it’s because he didn’t beg me to dedicate my next performance to him, or to sign an autograph, or attempted to convince me to go out with him despite only knowing of me due to my moderate amount of fame.

I know, this is ridiculously pathetic. I shouldn’t be crushing on this man for such simple things, but I can’t help it. Besides, he has the cutest dog ever!

“Oh, I don’t see why I even care,” I sigh again. “Fuck this, am I right?” 

Gladys chuckles. “Sure, Maeve, sure.” She reaches for one of the hangers and holds up a dress to her figure. “What do we think about this one?” It’s light blue and sleeveless with a crisp collar and cinched waist. Very sophisticated. Very Gladys. 

“I like it,” I smile. “It’ll look gorgeous with those heels that Duncan gave you for your birthday. You know, the gray ones. I would suggest the white ones that I got you for Christmas last year, but I think that Rockie would actually murder both of us if you wore white shoes on her big day.” Neither of us can help laughing at this. 

“I swear that girl hasn’t been more stressed about anything in her entire life,” Gladys says with a shake of her head. “That fiance of hers hasn’t been much help, either. He don't know anything about weddings. I don’t even think he knows that Rockie wants all the guests to wear

blue so we can match with the decorations.”

I shake my head too. “Men, am I right?” 

“Absolutely,” Gladys agrees. “Except for my husband.”

“Of course not,” I smile. “Duncan’s one of the good ones.” It’s true. Gladys and Duncan are a fantastic pair. They both contribute the same amount and neither of them make an important choice without consulting the other. The most genuine definition of a pair of equals. A unit. I would envy them if I didn’t already love them so damn much.

“He is,” Gladys nods. “You know I have no time for those pissy ass men who have no morals or work ethic.”

“Most definitely,” I move a couple dresses out of the way before I find a blue one. It’s a shade of darker blue and made of the softest cotton. There’s a thin halter that ties in the back. The skirt doesn’t look too short, yet it isn’t too long. I’d say it would go down a little bit past my knees if I was wearing it. 

“Thoughts? Opinions?” I hold the dress up to myself so Gladys can get a proper look at it. “Hopes? Wishes? Dreams?” 

“Well isn’t that just gorgeous?” Gladys carefully runs her fingers over the soft cotton fabric. “This would look pretty with those brown high heels of yours. Those ones with the tiny beads on the toes.” 

I picture the shoes Gladys mentioned and I certainly agree. Brown shoes are almost always a good choice. They’re timeless and look good on any occasion. 

“Should we try these dresses on, then?” I gesture towards the dressing rooms nearby. 

“Most definitely,” Gladys says. “I’ll go find a salesgirl.”

***

The dress is nothing short of beautiful. On top of that, it’s also comfortable against my skin. Gladys’s dress suits her as well. Blue has always complemented her. 

We both change back into our regular clothes and purchase our dresses one at a time. It’s not long before we’re back on the ferry. Gladys lives on Nerina Island, which is the island second-closest to Meyne, so she doesn’t have to sit on the boat for very long. Meanwhile, I live on Kingfisher Island, which is about another eight miles west. 

Gladys and I stand near the railing, talking as Meyne shrinks with every passing second. This is a common thing for us. Between us, there’s always words to be said. 

“I honestly can’t wait to perform at Gold Stone on Saturday,” I say. “I know I’ve performed there too many times to count but it was the first-”

 I look at Gladys who isn’t saying a word but rather staring straight ahead. 

“Uh, hello?” I wave my hand in front of Gladys’s face. “You alive in there?” 

“Speak of the devil,” she turns her head towards me, her hand touching my arm. “Look ahead. Don’t make it obvious.”

I look, but I’m not sure if I’m being subtle about it. I think I am. “What the heck am I even looking at?” I blurt out. 

“Will you hush?” Gladys’s gentle hand then swats me on the arm. “Look at who's sitting on that bench over there, hm? The man reading the newspaper.” 

I look again, and this time, I see what Gladys was staring at. Well, rather who Gladys was staring at. I feel my face heat up and my heart thumps louder inside my chest. 

“Fuck,” I mumble. “It’s him.”

He’s gorgeous. Today he’s wearing a beige button-down shirt—with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows—and a pair of slacks. There’s a brown leather satchel next to him. He’s definitely

just left work. His hair is slightly disheveled and he’s wearing a pair of reading glasses with thin wire frames, his brows slightly furrowed from deep focus. 

Gladys squeezes my arm. She says something, but I can’t comprehend it.  

My eyes widen. I’m snapped out of my trance. “What?” 

“You heard what I said,” Gladys says. “Go talk to him.”

“A-alone?” I turn my head to look at her again. 

A knowing expression crosses her face. “It’s not like you haven’t talked to him one-on-one before. You’ve done it twice already. No harm in a third time.”

“But like…what do I say?” I bite my bottom lip, confused on what to do. “Can you go over there with me? Please, Gladys, please?” 

Gladys sighs. After a second of hesitation she says, “Fine. I’ll go with you.”

I grin at her in thanks. She lets go of my arm and we walk over there in tandem. As we approach Dr. Milborough, he looks up. For a moment, there’s a look in his eye that I can’t quite read. I can’t tell if he’s surprised, annoyed, or a mix of the two. His gaze falls on Gladys first. 

“Miss Okoye,” Dr. Milborough nods at Gladys. There’s a hint of a smile on his lips. His eyes flit over to me next. His smile dissipates like a flame that’s been extinguished. “Miss Eaton.” he nods again. “How’re ye ladies today?”

Holy shit. He really doesn’t like me.

“Doing just fine, Doctor,” Gladys replies with that sweet smile of hers. “Maeve and I just went to Willow Hill.”

“Did you, now?” Dr. Milborough cocks his head slightly. His eyes meet mine again. “That’s that popular clothing store on Meyne, no?”

“It is,” I say, straining to remain casual. “We each bought a dress.”

Why did I say that? It’s not like he cares.

“How nice,” he turns towards Gladys again. “Whatever for?” 

“My sister’s wedding,” Gladys says. “It’s on Friday.” 

“Oh, yes, forgot that Raquelle was gettin' hitched,” Dr. Milborough’s subtle smile returns. “To Bernard Brown, right? Good for her.” 

“If you say so.” Gladys chuckles. She glances at me, as if she’s silently willing me to say something. Anything. 

My mind goes blank for a couple of seconds. 

“The newspaper came out on Monday, and you still haven’t read it yet?” 

You dumbass.

Dr. Milborough is quiet for a moment. He’s probably trying to figure out how to respond to someone who sounds so stupid! 

“Well, if ye couldn’t already tell, Miss Eaton, I’m a doctor. I work five days a week for ten hours and I’ve hardly had enough time to even pick up the newspaper.”

“O-oh,” I feel my face flushing in embarrassment. “Right. Sorry. That was stupid of me, wasn’t it?”

“It was,” Dr. Milborough says. He shakes his head, chuckling softly. “But it’s alright, ma’am.”

Ma’am.

I feel a spark of electricity jolt throughout my body. My skin grows warmer and my palms sweat. The things I’d let this man do when I don’t even know his exact age is downright shameful.

I can’t even form words. I just smile like a fool. 

The ferry stops at the dock on Nerina. I turn to Gladys. Why does she have to go right now?!

“Bye bye, darling,” I say to Gladys, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “I had fun today.”

“Goodbye, darling,” Gladys gives me a quick side hug and returns my kiss on the cheek. “I had fun today too. I’ll see you on Friday.”

“Of course, love you.”

“Love you too.”

I wave goodbye as Gladys walks away. I watch her exit the boat and step onto the dock before starting her stroll home. 

“I didn’t know you and Miss Okoye were so close,” Dr. Milborough says to me. The boat starts moving again. 

I shrug. “Well, to be frank, Dr. Milborough, you don’t know me.” 

He hesitates for a moment before answering, “You’re right, Miss Eaton, I don’t.” 

“Well, wouldn’t you like to?” I ask. I have no idea how he’ll respond to this, but there’s only one way to find out. 

“Doesn’t look like I have a choice now, do I?” he says. “I see your face everywhere.” Now I’m the one who doesn’t know what to say. Sure, I’m well-known within the Sanctuary, but seeing my face everywhere might be a little extreme, which is why Dr. Milborough’s comment confuses me. What does he mean by “I see your face everywhere”? I doubt it’s him saying that he thinks of me; I wouldn’t believe that at all. So, I try to spin it to sound like an insult in my head, yet everything goes blank. What does he mean?!

“Oh?” I raise an eyebrow. “What do you mean by that?” Dr. Milborough’s response is quick. “Well, yer well known, and yer always performing at my favorite bar.” 

“Which is?” It takes everything in me to not take a deep, anticipating breath in. His answer could possibly lead to major changes to my performance schedule for a while. 

He hesitates. His eyes meet mine. There’s a spark of something in his stare, but it only lasts for a second. It vanishes as soon as it appears. 

“Gold Stone,” Dr. Milborough finally says. 

I hold back a smile. He picks up his newspaper again, indicating that this conversation is more or less over and that I should just get lost. 

I hope I get to see him on Saturday. I don’t care if he likes me or not. In fact, if he does, then maybe seeing my face and hearing my voice will make him think about me even more. 

That is, if he even thinks about me in the first place, which I’m sure he doesn’t.

This is the silly third chapter in this story! The funny thing is that I came up with a lot of the plot from character ai haha! I love character ai!

[evercelle]

i’m a huge danganronpa fan so it’s been super fun to see you getting into v3!!! i’d love to hear what you thought of the last trial/the ending! it’s super divisive but i personally love it and think it’s really clever and creative.

ooooh yeah sure let's talk about v3!! happy sixth anniversary to the game that knocked me over and stole my attention span for the last couple months. i'm in the camp that loved the ending, and i'll cut the rest for spoilers:

i can definitely understand why the ending is divisive, but i thought the final trial and the meta-narrative of "danganronpa has always been fictional within its own canon" were cleverly executed and beautifully tied to the driving theme of the game itself. because v3's core mechanics revolve around truth and lies, the central thesis of the game (to me) is "perception affects reality." the big twist ending (and the reactionary emotions it causes for players) really highlights that theme.

when you think about the game, there were hints left and right that the killing game was a show from the very beginning (literally. from the title screen, which displays a disclaimer "characters depicted are fictional" a la tv shows), but because players (and especially long-time DR fans--as a send-off game in the franchise, it takes advantage of "standard DR tropes" to great effect) have certain expectations coming into the game as to what the story is or should be like, it's easy to overlook those clues...! because you have those preconceptions, the average player isn't looking for those clues, so when you finally get to the Big Twist you're totally staggered by that reveal, even though characters (amami, ouma, saihara) have explicitly told or speculated to the player throughout the game that things aren't what they seem.

saihara as the protag's early (and then ongoing) character arc deals with averting his eyes from the truth, because he's afraid of what must follow. it's a parallel for the player's experience in the final trial, which slowly leads you to the only possible conclusion (everything you know is a lie) and then links up to the secondary thesis of the game by setting up and then subverting standard DR/video game conventions (if we just believe in hope, we can get through this!! ...actually, that's wrong!): perception affects reality, and your own perception & agency shapes your world view. though shirogane tries to mindbreak saihara by showing the pre-game videos and asserting that everything about their present selves are all fabricated and therefore meaningless outside of the context they were created for, saihara concludes that ultimately, it doesn't matter--his experiences, his memories, his bonds, and his choices belong to him and shape his future. for the player, you get to make the same choice in interpreting the ending--whether you believe the ending is real (the classmates actually died) or fake (it was all a virtual simulation) is left up to you. your perception and your choice!!

overall, the driving theme that truth and lies are closely entangled was very well-executed, in my opinion! especially embodied in ouma as a whole and in trial 5, but that's a whole separate post lol... what you assumed was true wasn't, things that appeared to be lies perhaps weren't... infinite possibilities offered by a kind or useful lie, versus the narrow reality of a single harsh, objective truth; having the steel to pursue the truth to the very end; and finally, choosing to stand by your truth and forge onward, no matter what. that's what saihara's journey + the final trial is all about...!!

p.s. i enjoyed saihara as a character throughout the game but trial 6 made me just fall in love with him HAHA when he becomes intensehara is sooo choice. one of the reasons i love trial 6 is that it once again subverts itself in clever ways!

doing the standard video game-ish "we are in the pit of despair... wait, we just have to believe in each other and work together (game UI is literally lighting back up, coming back to life)" only to reverse into saihara realizing wait no. that's the trap!! fuck despair AND hope, actually!!! saihara rules

you get a parallel to chp 1 switching protags (akamatsu->saihara) with the switch from saihara->kiibo, but interestingly enough, you don't win against saihara. when you rebuttal showdown it's kiibo who is swayed

mechanically refusing to play the minigames in order to ruin the show was awesome and an excellent call back to ouma's FTE #5, when he implies that sometimes you win a game by simply not playing. (funny story about that actually - i DID attempt to play the nonstop debate you're supposed to not participate in during the last leg of trial 6 just because i wanted to see what would happen, and it auto game overs. LOL)

[petrovna-zamo]

What does it mean if Katya is putting up her costumes on depop already, new costumes? Their tour ain't even finished yet.. admittedly it's only the leotard/skirt from NY and the final number.. but im too emotionally attached to this tour that I don't want any of it sold 🥺

Well, if you want to commiserate about the fact that Katya will literally touch a piece of fabric for one second and then immediately sell it on her Depop… You’ve come to the right place! It makes me so sad too. I know she loves to immediately clean out her closet to make space for the new and she’s always done this but still it stings a little. Normally I’d say get the bag sis go ahead and overcharge for the privilege to smell your smoke and sweat soaked garments but in this case (and actually all cases because I’m sad every time she’s does this) I’m like… is nothing scared?! Katya you don’t need the money please save something! I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again but in 10 years time Trixie will have a whole museum dedicated to everything she ever wore and Katya will be living in the woods without a trace to remember her by.

But if it means anything? Besides the fact that she’s definitely not as attached as us lol… No I don’t think so. She’s selling the previous versions of costumes she’s since updated and she’s done that before. Also I don’t think there will be a lot of new changes or updates for the last couple of shows since there’s only 11 left. You never know though! But it is sad that she’ll sell stuff she and Andrew/Astor Yang have made as well as pieces from drag and costume designers like Marco Marco/Dallas Coulter/Amie Sarazan… these are all very talked people and I want their work appreciated by all… but I don’t necessarily believe that means a resale is needed. The only perk is that we now know more about the clothes like the fact that she has at least two leotard versions (makes sense it’s good to have a backup). But all of this does give me an excuse to talk about the changes in the costumes she’s sold so far…

During the first leg of T&K live for the NY/NY number their dresses/leotards were a brighter pink/red sequined fabric but more high cut around the legs and they complained about it during the live pod in Austin (you can see their shapewear and after the skirt reveals they were always adjusting their outfits like it was uncomfortable) so it makes sense they updated those. The newer versions are more full coverage around the legs and are lined around the neckline. I will say I don’t like the almost silvery sheen to the sequin fabric they used this time because the dress colors look more muted? But maybe it was just what they had available. Just in my opinion the originals captured the light better in photos.

For the closing Chicago number they added the fringe to the bodysuit and gloves. 10/10 improvement. Turned cute leotards into flapper fringe mini dresses perfect for dancing. No notes.

Now for the robes they went from sequins to shiny and I think they look sleeker and more distinctive from all the other shades of red and pink they’ve previously used in the show. A+++.

The iconic Cекси outfit… loved the upgrade from the first leg to what she wore in AUS/NZ but this final version is the perfect combo of the original outfit and the more sexy update. Plus it fits better and she can move around in it more. All excellent choices here but they settled on the best for sure.

So while I’m sad about all of these original costumes being sold I don’t thing there’s anything deeper going on here besides it’s definitely ending and she’s definitely not saving anything despite all of us definitely wishing that was not the case!

If anyone has their eye on anything, especially the updated versions of the costumes, save up now and turn those notifications on because there’s a 99% chance she’ll sell them one day. Honestly there’s a lot I would be tempted to buy because I love literally everything she wears but I’d rather shes hang onto it in the off chance she wears it again. Maybe once this tour is all said and done I’ll do a full T&K Live costume retrospective and then a follow up with an in memoriam post once she inevitably sells everything…

[petri808]

If you're open for nalu requests, can you write a smut fic where nalu goes to a lingerie store because lucy wants to try on some lingerie and natsu ends up getting aroused? But if you can't it's fine just ignore this ask😊

Hi Nony, this is the last request I’ll do. Decided to save this for @thenaluarchive Sinfully Nalu event Mirror prompt. What did Lucy expect by dragging Natsu lingerie shopping?

“I’ve just got one more stop to make.” Lucy pointed towards the other side of the mall.

“Ugh…” Natsu’s shoulders dropped, “but we’ve been here for 2 hours already, Lucy, and I’m getting hungry.”

“I’ll spring for lunch. Anything you want.”

“I’m holding you to it,” he grumbled, but allowed her to pull him forward.

Natsu knew the mall well enough to know that the section they were heading towards were mostly women’s clothing stores— definitely not where he wanted to be. All these fancy clothes, and accessories, and… stuff that his girlfriend loved to wear. Sure, he didn’t complain cause it made her happy, he just didn’t wanna shop for it. Forever twenty something, Cache or Channel— whatever, “oh, uh-uh, no way,” he jerked them to a halt. “I ain’t going in there.”

“It’s just Victoria’s Secret.”

“Well Victoria can keep her secret. Lucy you’re crazy if you think I’m going in a women’s lingerie store!”

Lucy turned to face, then grabbed both of Natsu’s hands, holding them together close to her chest. “Please,” her eyes begged. “I need you to tell me what you think will be nice on me.”

Thinking about his girl, in lingerie, while standing in a mall was *not* the image Natsu wanted conjuring in his mind. But between the soft, puppy-dog expression, and her whimpering pleading— he was powerless to turn Lucy down. He sighed with a whine. “Fine. I’ll go.”

“Yay!” She giggled, kissed his cheek, and took his hand again, entwining their fingers together. “I’ll make it as painless as possible.”

Yeah, uh-huh, right… Painless.

As they walked down the rows and racks of lingerie, Natsu hummed in his head as a distraction. Bras, panties. Low cut, high cut, thongs, g-strings. Sets, individual pieces. Lace, satin, cotton. So many choices! He let the colors blend in his vision, the scents of brand-new clothing mixed with perfumes sold, or miscellaneous accessories. How do women pick anything when there’s so many options? Give him a t-shirt and jeans and he was good to go.

Every so many picks, Lucy would ask his opinion. ‘Yeah, that’s nice. No, that looks itchy. I like that color. Eww, it doesn’t match you.’ Finding her size in the styles she wanted wasn’t always easy, but after 30 minutes, Lucy had half a dozen or so items to try on. So, they head towards the fitting rooms.

Natsu stopped in front of the doors, and readied himself to stand around and wait—

“You’re coming in with me.” Lucy tugged on his hand. “I need your final opinion.”

Up until now, Natsu had managed to avoid thinking about anything even remotely related to sex, but now?! “Uh-uh, no way!”

“Please…” Lucy turned on the pouty lip-action and puppy-dog eyes again. “It’s not like you won’t see me in them later.”

Natsu gulped hard as the naughty images were unlocked. “Are you trying to kill me in public?”

“Pfft, no,” she giggled. “Stop exaggerating this.”

‘You have no idea, woman…’ “Alright, fine. But don’t blame me if anything happens in there.” Because if the twitch in his pants and slight bulge growing was any indication, it wouldn’t be what she’d be expecting.

“Tch.” Lucy rolled her eyes. “It’ll be fine, Natsu, you’ll see.”

The dressing room was a lot more spacious than he was used to seeing. Men’s fitting rooms, at least the ones he’s been in are like closets with just one full length mirror, and maybe a small bench inside. This one could easily fit them both, with wrap around mirrors to catch every angle. It had a small, cushioned bench along one wall, and a couple of hooks on the inside of the door. But most noteworthy was the fact it was a fully enclosed room— not those partial-length doors at lower-quality stores. It was very, very private.

Natsu sat down on the bench and closed his eyes while Lucy fiddled with her options. He could hear the plastic and metal hangers going up on the hooks, as well as the sounds of his girlfriend shedding her clothing. His mouth suddenly felt dry… Lucy’s voluptuous body bared for him to see with only her regular panties left on— he squeezed his eyes tighter shut. ‘Don’t think about it! Don’t think about it!’

“Ready— Natsu, silly,” Lucy giggled. “How are you gonna tell me if it’s good or not if you can’t see?”

“No.”

Lucy threaded her fingers gingerly through his hair. “Just one peak…”

‘Fuck…’ he groaned as the tightening in his shorts grew uncomfortable. “One peak.”

Natsu opened his eyes and immediately slammed them shut again from the screaming bra and panties glued to her frame. A sheer red with solid fabric only over the nipples and a strip covering her crotch. So much flesh revealed in these outfits, was there even a point to wearing anything at all?

“Great!” His voice squeaked out. “Looks fine.”

Her giggles only added to his demise. The sounds of more fabric rustling, and the twitch in his shorts… Natsu shifted in his seat trying to get comfortable, but he couldn’t. Lucy had grabbed about six of seven different pieces to try, and this was only the beginning. She was too damn sexy, and he swore, derived pleasure out of torturing him like this! Ugh, his cock was so hard right now…

“Okay, next piece,” Natsu heard her say. “I’m not sure about it, cause the color doesn’t seem to look good on me.”

Tch, it could be multi-colored polka dots and Lucy would still be a man’s wet dream. He cracked open one eye. It was a dark green, combo with frilled lace along the waistband. Natsu gulped hard as she did a turn around to reveal a thong and curvy swell of her backside.

“You do realize I’m biased, right?” Natsu blurted out. “Everything looks good on you to me.”

“Awww,” Lucy bent down and placed a chaste kiss to his lips. “I still think I’ll add this to the maybe pile,” she spoke as she started removing the pieces. “I think you’ll really like the next one I found; it has these cute flames on them.”

“You know what I’d prefer to see?” Natsu questioned, for he was done holding back.

Lucy stopped mid-way, bent slightly over with the thong down to her thighs. “What?”

Without answering her, Natsu got off the bench and started helping her take the thong off.

“Natsu, what are you—”

Once off, he moved onto her regular panties down.

“Nat— s-stop!” Lucy grabbed for his hands, but she couldn’t do much without twisting or tripping. “What are you do—”

“Keep your voice down.” He tugged those off too leaving her exposed from the waist down.

“Natsu this isn’t funny!” She seethed in an exasperated whisper.

“Neither is this,” he gestured at the bulge in his shorts. Guiding her against the mirrored wall as he spoke. “You said I could choose whatever I wanted for lunch, and I’ve decided to put you on the menu.”

Lucy whimpered when she felt the cold mirror against her bare skin. “But we’re in public.”

“I warned you didn’t I…” Natsu leaned in with a whisper, cheek to cheek. “Then I suggest you not make any noise,” his words wisp out, warm breath fanning down the barren skin as his lips burn a trail over her neck. Lucy dug her fingers into his hair, holding on but not stopping him as he moved lower.

His stops were brief, lips ghosting burning marks along her chest, a mountainous journey over the pillowy bosoms, a few licks against the pert nipples, and lower… down … snaking over her torso to what he was truly after. “Breathe, baby,” Natsu teased at her halted, bated breathing. “Just look forward and watch.”

She sucked in a gulp of air and stared forward at the mirrored image of Natsu going down on her. It was strange to literally watch every move he made like a voyeur living through another’s body. Lucy’s fingers tightened their grip on his hair in anticipation as he spread her legs a little wider…

“Mmm,” he mused in thought on how to get the best angle. “Hold to me,” Natsu suggested, and before she could reply, lifted Lucy’s left leg, and rested it on his shoulder. “Perfect…”

Natsu dove right in, latching his mouth onto the moist folds he knew so well, humming at the quick squeak his girl couldn’t catch in time. But he knew from the pull on his scalp exactly what she was experiencing. He kept one hand on her raised hip, while the fingers of his other toyed around the edge of her wet opening. His tongue pressed and circled around her clit, sucking, palpating, interspersed with soothing flicks and long strokes to lap up the growing sap gathering in the area. He closed his eyes as he relished in the warmth oozing over his face from her beautiful sex.

Heaven help her, Lucy couldn’t stop staring at that mirror… her gripped fingers to his hair and nails digging into his shoulder for dear life from the seasoned oral ministrations that slowly undid her sanity. Just his tongue alone… but the teasing fingers… Oh! Oh— Her thighs clenched to the sides of Natsu’s head as she felt one, then two fingers slipped through her walls. Lucy’s body arched slightly, and head tilted back as those fingers began swiftly pumping.

“Natsu…” Lucy moaned softly through sealed lips. She could feel his grin against her flesh, hear the squishing sounds, and smell the light scent of her extreme arousal. Damn him…

In a race against time, Natsu pumped fast and hard while his mouth and tongue devoured Lucy’s sex and sanity with an intensity to rival any known battle for supremacy. Each passing second, drawing the heated coil at her core closer to snapping. Her legs trembled, yet clenched and stiffened as his fingers pummeled, bumping the swollen sex being driven to his knuckles reach. He could feel Lucy start unraveling and held firmly to her hip bone as the jerky spasms rocked her body in orgasmic euphoria.

“Stop, stop, stop—” Lucy clawed at his back and neck as she whimpered from the immense pressure boiling in her body, and radiant moisture pooled in her eyes. “Please… enough, Natsu my legs are gonna give out.”

After giving her pussy a few more licks to clean up the excess juices, Natsu finally obliged and put down Lucy’s leg, then stood up while still supporting her as she caught her breath. He licked around his lips and cleaned off his fingers. “Best lunch in the world,” he grinned.

“Oof!” Lucy playfully slapped his chest with a short laugh. “Not what I’d meant. And now I don’t have time to try on the rest.”

“Why not?”

Lucy started putting on her regular clothes. “We’ve been in here for too long, it’ll be suspicious.”

“Tch, then just buy all of it if you like them, cause I’m telling you they’ll all look great on you.”

She glared at him. “Fine, but after pulling that stunt, now you owe me lunch!”

Natsu shrugged and grabbed all the hangers of clothing. “Okay, since you’ll need your strength later.”

“Later?”

The widest seedy grin bloomed on Natsu’s face. “You’ll see…”

[writing-in-april]

Dressed in Crimson

Spencer Reid x Female Reader (Royalty AU)

Summary: Spencer is a stable boy with a passion for learning and Reader is the princess of the palace that he serves in. They’ve been in a secret relationship, the two grow restless about not being able to be out in the open.

A/N: Guys I’m so excited for this one I really really loved writing it- it’s my fourth fic for my 30 fics in 30 days for April and it’s also written for @omgbigfluffwriting !!! I kinda immersed myself into this quite a bit- and it’s my longest oneshot I’ve ever written 🤭The specific historical period theyre in is not specified and the world that they’re in is entirely fictional and not based on any specific point in history- if you’ve ever watched Merlin that’s kinda the vibe I was thinking of just without the magic lol (please still ignore that the gif does not have an accurate clothing choice from Spencer I just wanted a good shot of his hair that I thought of while writing this) i feel like it’s becoming so obvious how much I love historical fiction lol 😂 I’d like to hear from you guys also so if you want to drop me an ask here! It can be about anything 🥰 hope y’all enjoy!!!

Warnings: 18+, Reader has a horrible Father, subtle hints about sexism, Classism, Period typical clothing, Reader and Spencer fight for a little bit, Smut, Dom Spencer, Fingering, Handjob, Unprotected Sex, Day dreaming about fucking in public, Spencer’s possessive as hell, Ignoring the potential consequences of a creampie

Main Masterlist Word count: 4.7k

My day started out like any other with my corset made of whalebone being cinched tightly around my figure with my chemise underneath of course. Every time the ends of the laces were pulled taught on my body I thought of the days where I could get away with not having this wretched piece of clothing cutting off my breath. Those days had been so long ago, when I was just a small child, almost so long ago that I had to strain my memory to recall it. It wasn’t even until I was done clutching my mother’s skirts before I started to be forced into the confines of the worst invention in history. I would have rather muck in the mud in pants like the men, unless there was a reason for me to actually want to wear a dress.

Today, I had chosen a crimson colored gown, one of my only favorites. The front of the bodice was adorned with embroidery, one embroidered with a glistening gold thread. The sleeves were long and ever so slightly off my shoulders, ending just at my wrist. It had been perfectly handcrafted just for me, a seamstress being hired to slave away at each detail with precision. If it had been up to my father the seamstress would have been paid little to nothing for this masterpiece, but you had your own coins stashed away from your allowance to give extra to anyone that gave you goods and services.

The dress was my favorite almost solely because of someone else’s appreciation for the lush fabric, no one needed to know about that though. I did like to look nice on certain occasions, but only special ones. There was no special occasion scheduled for me to have a reason for wearing it, well none that the greater majority of the court would know about.

Only my maid Emily knew what my excursion would be today, why I dressed up so nicely. There was no feasible way for me to hide my dalliances from her, especially the one I was about to go to as it required some higher levels of stealth to be able to evade my father’s guards.

His name was Spencer, one of my father’s stable boys. I loved him more than anything, definitely more than any potential match that was arranged for me.

I gifted him whatever I could without raising suspicion, though I often hid my purchases if someone asked by excusing them as more frivolous in nature, such as a new dress. Spencer had no real need for pretty things as he’d said before, except from myself- those were his past words not mine. And, he did express to me how much he loved the dress I was wearing right now, which was tied to how we had first met.

When I first met him I had been looking for a fabric in the market stalls. I hadn’t really wanted to, I was content with all the dresses that I owned right now, they had no ornament on them, just how I preferred. However, my father demanded I get something fancier for some sort of frivolous ball that was coming up that undoubtedly had no reason to take place besides bleeding everyone else dry.

I brushed hands with him for the first time as I was looking for the material I wanted, something just fancy enough to appease my father. The stall filled with fabrics bordered one that had stacks of books, I would have much preferred to be looking at that one. My hand had gotten close to the edge while I was inspecting a fabric and it had bumped into a man who was looking at one of the books.

When I had looked up to see who had brushed my hand I was met with frantic eyes filled with apology. His stuttered apology had covered my attempt to assure him that it was fine, it had taken me grabbing both of his hands to steady him for him to listen to my reassurance.

When he had introduced himself to me after I asked it flowed into a long conversation. I could have talked to him forever, I would be content to never talk to anyone else. For a stable boy he was exceptionally smart, which I learned was from his mother who had made sure he was educated even in poverty, specifically through having him read anything she could get her hands on. From then on our blossoming friendship had flourished, and had eventually developed into more.

I slung a shawl over my shoulders made out of a fabric of similar color to my gown and also grabbed a purse filled with coins with a smile due to my reminiscing . It wasn’t cold enough for one of my velvet cloaks just yet and most of the walk down to where Spencer was housed was indoors.

The walk from my rooms in the main part of the castle to the stables on the lower floor towards the East end was longer than I would have wanted. Truthfully, I wished I would not have to live in a castle at all, I’d rather live in the small house that Spencer lived. It was just past the castle grounds at the edge of the surrounding village adjacent to the stables so he did not have to walk far for work in the mornings.

My feet tiptoed down the corridors carefully, I was lucky that I had figured out to be somewhat light on my feet otherwise I’d be caught swiftly for sure. I passed by the rooms of most of the lords and ladies staying at court, I always wondered why some chose to stay here, it was positively suffocating here. The door I used to go outside was through the kitchen, that had a myriad of breakable things strewn about that I had to stealthily avoid. Luckily, I knocked nothing over that would have woken up the cooks who slept just a room over. Turning the handle of the door had to be a slow process so no one would hear the creak of the knob while it was turned, but I did successfully make it out with no disturbance.

Beginning the stretch of my journey that was outdoors was perhaps the most risky. Guards were stationed around the perimeter of the castle in greater numbers compared to the ones indoors which were only stationed by important rooms. I weaved my way through, in some aspects it was even more confusing than the inside of the castle. Hiding behind each of the pillars was the most effective way to avoid them, the construction of them making a series of small blind spots. I had just snuck behind one of the last ones when one of the guards nearest to me moved forward a little. I stopped breathing immediately, holding it tight in my chest while I plastered myself as close as I could to the back of the pillar. My nails dug into the stone of the pillar in fear, if I was ever to be found sneaking out at night or worse in the presence of Spencer, I would either never leave my rooms again or be whisked away into marriage even earlier than planned.

When the guard did not move to investigate further I let go of the breath I was holding, still making sure to let go of it slowly so he could not hear me. Moving swiftly forward after I had taken a breath was a bit of a challenge, my knees had gone weak with fear. I pushed myself to take each step even with the weakness in my knees, there was no way I could linger any longer.

Finally I was no longer walking on stone, I was walking on the muddy earth now. It was nice to feel the ground under my feet instead of the harsh stone, it told me that I was now only a handful of strides away from Spencer’s home.

The leaves littering the ground mixing with mud crunched under my feet even as I tip toed carefully. The guards may be in the distance now, but I didn’t feel keen on testing how good their hearing may potentially be.

Passing the stables was the last marker for my journey, then I would be able to see his home too. As I passed the sleeping horses by anticipation began to replace the fear inside me. It had been a while since I had been able to come see him, making me yearn for his touch even more.

His home came into view, even in the dead of night I could make it out if I squinted my eyes hard. My pace picked up exponentially when I landed my eyes on his humble abode. It was a quaint home, fallen into disrepair as he could not afford to fix it on the meager salary that my father paid him. The purse of gold that I had brought with me was exactly for that, the repairs. He would most likely protest the gift just like any other thing I had tried to gift him. From my experience the most effective way to get him to accept anything was to leave it there with no conversation about it. I think it made him feel less guilty even though in my opinion he was owed the money in the first place, no one should have to live in squalor when they did their job every day without question or complaint.

When I finally was at the entrance of his home I entered through the door swiftly, too impatient to wait or knock. Stress melted from my shoulders when I caught sight of him, hunched over one of the books I had given him, candles strewn around to give him enough light to read.

The candles he had lit to be able to read in the night illuminated us both with a glow. He would always compliment me whenever we found ourselves in similar lighting such as this, but in my opinion there was no rivalry. Each time the candle flickered it brightened up every highlight of him, letting me see his wild curls, brown eyes deeper than any others I had ever seen, and a body that I had no doubt was crafted to perfection illuminated in a beautiful glow.

I went to compliment him just as he always did with me, but I became mesmerized when he stood up, then moving his way closer to me.

“It is nice to see you, it feels like it’s been an eternity.” It may seem dramatic for him to say that it felt that long, but I echoed his sentiment willingly.

“It is nice to see you too, Spencer. I agree it’s been far too long.” I was sure it had been at least a full moon cycle since we had the pleasure of being alone with one another, our duties to my father keeping us separated.

It had been painful whenever I would go out for a ride on my horse, to see him hand me the reins of my mare and be unable to reach out to touch him. There had been one day, about a week ago, that I had let my hand brush against his own for a moment while he handed the reins to me. It was an innocent brush of a touch, that also had a barrier in the form of my leather gloves. To anyone else it had meant nothing, but to me and him, it meant everything.

His eyes were blown wide with desire, as I suspected mine were as well. We let ourselves take in the sight of each other for a minute longer before Spencer broke the silence with a request,

“Drop your shawl, so I may see you better.” A stable hand commanding someone of such a stature such as I would’ve seen him whipped if it was any other person before him. His boldness was not unexpected, it had taken a while for him to grow so comfortable with my company. In truth, he had been quite scared when I had first met him. It was perfectly understandable considering his employer was my father, who was not known for his kindness. And, even then after his fear had faded he still had a shy exterior for a while, it only had been lifted when we began to become extremely comfortable around each other. We were each other's only form of solace in this world, we could only escape our reality when we were together.

Instead of having malice in my voice like other nobles would I simply pulled the shawl more taught around my shoulders and teased, “Why should I?”

The expression on his face was one of the ones I loved seeing on his face the most, a sly smirk. He came closer to me, with careful steps as if he was waiting for the right moment to pounce. We were so close together when he stopped moving, but still not touching. He was playing a game with me, not touching until I obliged him. As he leaned in to speak into the shell of my ear he was careful with the way he tilted his body forward so I could only feel his breath on the small portion of my skin, “Because you like it when I look at you.”

My arms fell to my sides releasing my shawl to fall from my shoulders onto the floor at his words, as they rang true. I did want him to look at me and also, of course touch me.

“You wore your favorite dress.” He observed, still not quite touching. I didn't need to answer the statement he made with the thought in my mind ‘I wore it for you’ because I knew he had already figured that out. His observational skills were keenly honed in by his constant reading whenever he had the chance, often reading books that I had gifted to him. He even sometimes read well into the night, straining his eyes in the darkness when the candle was almost merely a wick. I had found that out the first- and sadly, only time I had the opportunity to stay overnight. Since then I had pushed him to get more rest as I knew how hard he was worked to the bone during the day, courtesy of my father.

His eyes were staring at my dress, pupils blown wide, his mind seemingly off in another world maybe thinking about all the things he wanted to do to me.

“Please, touch me.” I didn’t need to speak loud, only a soft whisper for him to hear me because of how close he already was to me. So close, yet so far.

He raised his large hands, calloused from working so hard day in and day out. My own hands were soft from the expensive creams I had been pampered with since I was just a small child. I liked his hands better, they showed the hard work he used everyday to cultivate his beautiful mind and body.

I subtly licked my lips in anticipation of his touch, wanting to feel every inch of his hand roaming my body, from the tips of his fingers to where his palm met his wrist.

His fingers then started to trace over the top of my corset, just a hair away from touching the swell of my breasts. My chest was rising and falling with each breath, each inhale pushing it slightly closer to his fingers. With each fall of my chest I felt the need to quickly let go of my breath, so I could once again inhale and be brought closer to his touch.

“Please touch me.” I repeated, breathless from forcing myself to breathe into his touch.

“I am touching you.” His fingers still did not move to touch my skin, only the crimson accented in gold. It was his turn to tease me now, I was at his mercy, ready and waiting for it.

I could beg again, though quite obviously I could not convince him with it. As he was running his fingers over the cloth for what felt like the millionth time, still not touching me, I teased him back instead of begging, “No you are touching my dress.”

A mere ghost of a touch from his fingers then floated across my skin. What should have calmed my heaving chest from my gasping breaths only served to make my breathing even heavier. The slight touch was still not enough, only making my desire for his hands to roam every inch of my body even more severe.

“Perhaps I should take your corset off, to help you breathe better.” He said, as if he read my exact thoughts.

“I like your thinking.”

I was then spun around so my back was pressed into his chest. It soothes my desire for his touch some, but we both had barriers of cloth preventing me from fully feeling him. I could feel some of the warmth that was hidden underneath his shirt, which was made up of a much billowing white linen that compared to his trousers.

If my skirts were not so large I wondered if I were to push back if my behind would come in contact with his cock and whether or not his desire would be as prominent as the slickness dampening the bottom layer I was wearing. I’d have to find a way to find a pair of trousers then, sometime soon, so I could try to grind into him at a later date. There was no doubt that we’d surely find ourselves in a similar position again.

As his hands started to undo the laces of my corset with care, despite both of our desperation, a thought slipped out from his lips that I’m sure he intended to keep to himself, “I wish I could call you mine in public.”

“My father would kill you!” The taste of my voice would have been bitter in anyone’s mouth, quickly spat out in the same way I said those words. Perhaps my quick anger to his innocent thought would be insane to some, most would probably consider it a sweet thought. However, he knew from previous conversations that when those sweet thoughts were expressed that all I could feel was a heavy sadness sitting inside me, instead of desire.

Tears clouded my vision, so much so that I did not see Spencer’s arms come around me to envelop me in an embrace. I flinched a bit at first, but then melted when I realized it was him. We held each other for a while as I sobbed softly into his billowy white shirt.

He stroked my shoulder with his large hands that I loved, but the corset he had not taken off fully yet was blocking me from feeling his touch the way I wanted.

“Take it off please.” I begged softly, I wanted to feel his skin on mine, and not just his lips or his hands. I wanted to feel every inch of him.

The laces of my corset were already half undone because of his previous attempt at getting it off of me. He finished the job, pulling the corset off of my body, tossing it down to the floor. He may have loved the dress, but he was showing me through his actions that he loved what was underneath more.

Turning me around was his next step, so he could properly kiss me. The pressure was soft at first, as if he was testing the waters to see how I would feel. Feeling his soft lips on my own just made me want to pull him in further, and I did so. My fingers tangled into his curls as the kiss devolved into pure passion, we were both throwing ourselves fully into it, trying to express our feelings nonverbally.

His own hands moved to cup my breasts as he backed me into the cot he slept on every night. I did not let him push me down on the bed so he was on top of me like normal, this time I wanted to be on top for a while. When I straddled his hips the first thing I felt was his cock straining in his pants. I unbuckled them so I could wrap my hands around his cock, I wanted to feel his thick and heavy length in my hands. Precum was already dripping down his hard cock as I pumped his length with my hands. My own arousal was dampening the underneath of the skirt I still had on. Spencer confirmed it himself when he snuck his fingers underneath the fabric to play with my pleasure spots. We both groaned as his fingers entered inside me while he rubbed circles into my swollen pearl.

My skirt was bunched up in his hands, pulling up all the way to the tops of my thighs. He soon got fed up with the skirt being in the way though and maneuvered me to shuck it off of me as fast as possible. Being bare before him did not make me wither in self consciousness, it made me lean into his touch even more.

He leaned up to kiss me again while I grabbed his length and restraddled him. I was definitely wet enough to have him enter me, my separation from him making me desperate, it had been so long since we had the chance to be together like this.

I then sunk down on his length slowly, it was for me to adjust to his size and to relish in the feeling of him sliding inside me. I stilled on top of him as the back of my thighs hit the top of his, he filled me with perfection. Spencer only let me be still for a little while before his hands gripped my hips and started to guide me to roll my hips. The pace I set- well Spencer was the one who set it, was slow and deep, I was languidly rolling my hips while he thrusted up into me at a similar pace.

My face twisted in pleasure as his thrusts became more powerful, still at the same pace but with more force behind them.

“Fuck- I want everyone to know that you’re mine!” It was the exact same thing he had spoken to me earlier that had sparked anger and melancholy inside me. This time it caused a spark of pleasure instead, making me think about him fucking me in front of everyone claiming me as his.

“My father would kill you.” This time when I said it it was gasped into his mouth with little to all anger disappeared from it.

My words made Spencer growl which was swallowed by a possessive kiss. He then flipped me over roughly, my back now pressed into the cot. A high pitched squeak had escaped my lips unintentionally in surprise, it was quickly changed into a moan when he entered me again. This time the pace did not start off slow as I did not need to adjust to him inside of me.

“I don’t care.” His speech was agitated as he pounded into me, holding my legs open with both hands spreading me out for him to see everything, “No matter what anyone says or does, you’re mine.”

Pleasure sparked through me at his possessive words, I grabbed desperately at the cotton sheets trying to hold onto something as my finish was fast approaching. When the cotton sheets were not enough of a stabilizer for me I lifted my hands up to wrap around the back of his neck and pull him close.

“Come on I know you’re close, I’m close too baby.” My nails dug into his neck and back during the latter half of his sentence causing him to slightly wince. I knew he enjoyed it though because of the question that he groaned out next, “Can I cum inside you?”

Biting my lip hard was painful as I nodded my head in response to his question that had me falling over the edge. The consequences of him finishing inside me danced in the back of my head, I chose to ignore them as he did. I did not care as he filled me and I rode out my release, even if I was to somehow get pregnant because of our recklessness it did not matter. I’d gladly have his child, even if it meant I’d have to go on the run.

Instead of falling on top of me directly after finishing like I’ve heard most men do with their wives he gently removed himself from my entrance and laid down beside me on the cot. Bliss was mingling in the air between us, both unburdened by any of our problems that would become a reality as soon as I left for the night. For now we would just hold onto the bliss until it was cruelly snatched away from reality.

Spencer had a solution as always to our problems, and seemed to be thinking about the same thing I was with his next suggestion,

“Run away with me.” We were both covered in sweat that had cropped up from our activities, a contrast to the chilly air outside and in the castle. It was nice to feel warm every time I was in his arms, It was hard to resist being greedy and deciding to stay in his arms forever. It had crossed my mind more than once, but there was always something stopping me from going through with it fully. I opened my mouth to point out all the reasons why that would not be possible when he added, “And, before you say no I want to ask- what’s stopping you?”

His reasoning was sound, as it often was. My mouth opened and closed, struggling to find a reasoning before I accepted that he was right. The only potential downfall was my father’s forces searching everywhere to find me, but it would be worth it. We could also easily cross the border into nearby lands ruled by someone else that was not in alliance with him. I already felt lighter thinking about being free from the confines of the castle- and hopefully my corset. Though I would have to keep the crimson dress I wore today, even if I only wore it around him, It was his favorite and it symbolized the day that we met. He glanced over at me just as I did the same, looking right into his eyes as I spoke,“Alright.”

The light that sparked in his eyes made my heart soar, I could feel just from his gaze how ecstatic he was to spend his life with me. I didn’t need any words to know how much he loved me.

We basked for a moment in the presence of our love, Spencer broke the silence again when he started planning,“You need to go pack!”

I moved myself to sit up even though my limbs protested, wanting to sleep after our post coital bliss. A soft smile was exchanged between the two of us, “I’ll pack light, only the stuff I need.”

The purse of gold I had brought for him would no longer be used to fund his repairs, but to fund our life together. I climbed on top of him again leaning forward to capture him in a kiss that was much more chaste than the ones earlier in the night.

“I. love. you.” He whispered in between kisses making my eyes wet with tears. They weren’t born out of sadness, but of happiness that I had someone to love me as much as Spencer did.

“I love you too, I will see you soon.” I pulled myself away from his lips even though I did not want to, I then got up to leave reluctantly. Though it was easier than previous departures as I knew that it would be the last one that I would have to complete. My whole being was lighter and happier than I had ever felt before as I snuck back with a spring in my step. The only hint of what I was about to do, where I was about to go, was the mud stained at the hemline of my crimson dress.

Ask me anything

—-

Tag lists (message me if you want to be added):

All works:

@shotarosleftpinky @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg @takeyourleap-of-faith (why wont tumblr let me tag you😭

All MGG characters: @muffin-cup @willowrose99

Spencer Reid/CM: @calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes @onlyhereforthefanfics @jareauswifey

Dom Spencer: @rainsong01 @evlfknb @jakobsdump

[sepulchralblues]

Andddd choice 2 is renison, L

This is real fucking late, but it's extra long! Enjoy :)

No trigger warnings for this AU.

—

Leaving the party was the best thing Allison had done all evening. Cloistered with the stuffy royals and dignitaries, in a room that smelled of far too many brands of perfume, she knew there was only so much she could take before she snapped.

She ducked out of the archway leading into the great room where her sister’s engagement party was being held, and into her parents’ prized rose garden. They’d closed it off for the occasion, but Allison knew more than one entrance into it.

She’d developed the skill years ago, to find a second entrance or exit to any of her favourite hideaways, especially routes that wouldn’t get her clothes damaged.

She dreaded having to listen to her father’s lectures about dirtying her beautiful dresses.

As she entered the garden, Allison glanced behind herself. It wouldn’t do for her to have been followed here. She didn’t want to deal with any romantic gestures from her suitors, not tonight.

She really didn’t so much mind the fact that it was her sister’s engagement party. Sure, she thought Ariella could do better than the mindless tool she was marrying, but Allison knew there was no changing her sister’s mind.

The poor woman was convinced it was ‘love’.

Allison snorted. As if something as plain and boring and dull as their courtship could ever be love.

Not that she knew what love was like—she’d never allowed herself to fall for anyone. In her world of falsehoods and secrets, opening her heart to someone was the deadliest thing she could do.

Love, in Allison’s opinion, was supposed to be heady. Intoxicating.

Something worth keeping away from the poisonous gazes of the people currently drinking and dancing in her home.

Twigs snapped beneath her feet. She’d defied her parents wishes and worn her ballerina slippers instead of the bejewelled heels they’d picked out for her. Those she’d handed off to her lady’s maid, knowing they’d make better use of it than she ever would.

It helped that she knew her mother would be beside herself if she knew where those shoes ever went.

Allison smiled to herself. They were small rebellions, she knew, but they were the only kind of freedom she could grant herself in this diamond encrusted prison that was her world.

She was approaching the large maple tree in the centre of the garden when she saw the figure.

She froze.

The clouds parted around the moon, and in the pale light, Allison’s breath caught.

The woman—or so Allison thought—looked like something out of a fairy tale. She was clothed in swathes of gauzy pink fabric, with long, billowing sleeves and what looked to be gold bracelets around her wrists. Her hair was liquid silver, cut short to land just past her ears.

How she’d gained access to her parents’ garden, Allison didn’t know. But she didn’t really care to find out.

Allison ventured closer, her footsteps silent on the stone pathway. She got within five feet of the woman before she was made.

“Oh!” The woman said when she noticed her. Her eyes widened as recognition speared through her. “Your Grace.” Her head tipped down into a bow, her body following, before Allison stopped her.

“Please, don’t.” The woman blinked at her. “I hate it when people bow to me.” Allison frowned.

“If I may be so impolite as to ask, Your Grace,” the woman started, “what are you doing out here? Shouldn’t you be celebrating your sister with the rest of the folk?”

Allison huffed. It was unusual of her to be so casual around a stranger, but there was something about this meeting, stolen and secretive as it was, that felt freeing to her.

“The celebrations were wearing down on me. I needed some air.”

The woman nodded as if Allison was making perfect sense. “Would you like me to leave?”

“No!” The word burst out of her. She cleared her throat, and said, “No, please don’t leave on my account.” Allison smoothed a hand down the front of her dress unnecessarily. “In fact, I’d prefer it if you stayed and kept me company.”

“Oh.” The woman smiled.

He smile was a beautiful thing, small and delicate, just a curve of pink lips and no teeth.

Allison thought it was the prettiest thing she’d ever seen.

“In that case.” The woman extended a hand towards her. It was the formal greeting men used, frowned upon by society for women to so the same. But there was a glint of mischief in the woman’s dark eyes when she looked at Allison.

Allison clasped her hand with her own.

“I’m Renee,” the woman introduced.

“Allison,” she said, stupidly.

Renee's smile widened, and a brilliant dimple made an appearance. “I know.”

Allison was struck by the sudden, idiotic urge to kiss Renee.

The thought speared through her like lightening, and her gaze involuntarily dropped to Renee's mouth.

She swallowed hard.

Renee's eyes darted across her face. “What are you thinking about, Allison?”

Something about hearing the seven letters of her own name spill from Renee's lips made it sound sacred, holy.

Safe.

Just like this garden.

Renee stepped closer when she didn’t answer.

“Allison,” she said again, and this time Allison shivered.

“What would you say,” she began, “if I asked you for a kiss?”

Allison thought she might be content for the rest of her life just by mentally replaying the image of Renee's lips parting at her question.

Then Renee said, “Yes.”

“What?”

“Yes,” she repeated, a smile playing at the corner of her lips. “You may kiss me.”

Allison held her breath for a moment, two. She waited for Renee to take back her words, to turn her away and perhaps go spill this secret she’d unknowingly revealed.

But she didn’t. Renee just stood there, waiting for Allison.

And so Allison raised a hand, gently sweeping soft silver strands of hair off Renee's face, tucking them behind her ear.

Renee's breath hitched when Allison cupped her jaw with delicate fingers, and the little sound she made cracked open something in Allison’s chest.

She leaned down and kissed Renee.

Renee's lips were warm against her own, her fingers cold on Allison’s cheek. There was a tremulous, careful brush of a hand against her own.

Allison reached back, entangling their fingers together. Slow, syrupy warmth flooded her body, sending gooseflesh puckering over her skin.

She pulled back, trying to catch her breath, and wondering how a kiss as small as this one could affect her so much. It was barely more than a brush of lips against her own, yet Allison felt torn apart, laid bare for all the world to see.

Renee's cheeks were tinged red, her eyes wide enough that Allison could almost make out the dark brown iris from the black pupil.

“Your Grace!” A voice cut through their little bubble.

Allison almost tripped in her hurry to put some distance between Renee and herself.

Guards. Her parents had sent the guards out to look for her.

Allison cursed under her breath. She’d been gone too long.

“Go,” Renee said, smoothing down her hair even as Allison had barely touched it. “You can’t miss this.”

Allison glanced behind her; the guards shouts sounded closer now.

She turned back to Renee. “Will I see you again?”

Renee blinked. “Do—do you want to?”

“Of course.”

Renee started backing away from her, from the maple tree. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” Allison needed better than that.

“I cannot guarantee anything, Allison.” Renee smiled again, but this smile was far sadder than any other she’d sent Allison’s way all evening.

“Wait.” Renee froze at Allison’s command.

Allison reached back and unclasped a necklace, one of several she’d been made to wear tonight. The emerald stone gleamed in the moonlight.

“Keep this.”

“Why?” Renee asked.

Allison shrugged. “If we are to never meet again, I want you to have this.”

Renee looked at her, at the necklace in his open palm. She huffed out a breath and nodded, something almost painful crossing her face.

“Okay.” She reached out and took the necklace.

The last glimpse Allison got of Renee before the guards found her was of silver hair and pink skirts, disappearing into the rose bushes.

—

Send me prompts for my 100 follower celebration!

[fandom-puff]

Sandor Clegane Smut Alphabet

Requested by: anon

Warnings: what it says on the tin. Smut.

Gif creds to owner

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

He cradles you, shushing you gently and rubbing your back. “You alright, little one?” He’ll ask. He’s really very tender, offering you light ale and little things to eat, kissing your forehead

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He’s a thigh man. He loves having hold of your thighs as you fuck, he likes them even better when they’re either side of his forehead...

He doesn’t like anything really on himself, but being with you has made him a little more proud

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

He likes it deep inside you, and loves to admire it trickling out after he pulls out. If you’ve had a quickie, he’ll replace your small clothes over your cunt and pat the gusset where his come is already seeping through the fabric. “Mine.”

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He loves to overstimulate you. You beg so prettily abd stumble over your words, trying to figure out if you’re begging him to stop because you’re too sensitive, or keep going because you’re teetering on the edge of another orgasm

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s fucked, but he’s always had to pay for it. In his eyes, no woman in her right mind would go near him.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

It used to be doggy (not because he’s the Hound stfu) but as you grew closer, and you assured him you didn’t give a shit about his scars, having you ride him quickly became a fave

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

In the earlier part of your relationship it was always intense and serious.

If you’ve been married a few years (and far, far away from kings landing) then you can get a little silly during it

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He doesn’t give a shit about your hair or his own. So long as it’s clean, do as you like

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Very, very intimate, even when it’s rough. He’ll hold you close to his chest as he ruins you

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Sometimes, if you’re both particularly busy, he takes matters into his own hands. He hates it though; he’d much rather have your hand- or mouth...

He also likes watching you get yourself off, whether that’s by your own hand or on his cock

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Size difference (he big), spanking. Other than that, I think he’s fairly tame

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Bedroom. Nice and safe.

Failing that, anywhere that locks (or has something pushed up against the door)

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Seeing you get sassy or bossy gets him going 100%. He also really likes watching you dress in the morning

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Sandor does NOT share.

And anything that puts you in harms way? Absolutely not.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

King of oral. He’s surprised at first that you’d let him put his scarred face anywhere near your nether regions, but he’s not complaining. With definitely make you come several times over before he even unlaces his trousers.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

His go to is fast and rough, especially if he’s tightly wound up. However, occasionally, he likes it nice and slow

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He’d much rather be shut up in a cosy room with the door firmly locked.

Needs must though 🤷🏻‍♀️

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Somewhat? Anything remotely dangerous is a big no- you’re precious to him. But if you say ‘Sandor, I’d like you to tie my wrists together’ or ‘you could spank me if you want?’ He’d give something like that a go

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Ooohhh he can LAST, and go for quite a few rounds. It’s normally you who taps out first

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He doesn’t own any, and he’d rather just do it himself than ‘fuck about with wooden cocks’

His belt comes in handy sometimes though

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Sandor isn’t one to tease you too much. He does, however, plant some very delicious ideas in your mind when you can do absolutely nothing to resolve it. And then when you finally get to your rooms (or anywhere with a lock) he’ll definitely comment about how wet you are...

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He starts of relatively quiet, just a few grunts and groans- he always, always moans loud and long when he first enters you.

As he reaches his climax, he gets louder and louder, grunting, growling, groaning as his thrusts get a little sloppier...

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Most arguments end up with a good rough, angry fuck.

And afterwards, you both apologise for being petty or stupid or ignorant.

And then you have a good make-up fuck :)

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

He’s a big man. That’s all. Do with that what you will ;)

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

It ebbs and flows, but it’s always there. Sometimes he craves physical release (those are when he’s at his roughest), other times he needs to be reassured and told you love him

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

It depends, really, but more often than not, he lays awake, staring at the ceiling for ages until the sound of your soft breathing and snoring lulls him to sleep