#boat neckline dress

[ghw-archive]

[jewellery-box]

Dress, c. 1820, England

Silk, tulle, silk satin

Blue striped silk ball dress with boat neckline, short wide gathered sleeves trimmed with ivory pleated tulle ribbon. Gown with blue silk satin waistband (with embroidered ivory spikelets) with a brass buckle (covered with floral enamel), maxi length skirt (knife pleated on the top at the front and tightly gathered in back).

Alexandre Vassiliev Foundation

[user2772636]

Douzième Fille

12th girl

××《☆》××

Experimenting is bound to give you attention. Magazines are trending, and not just in the women's department. A one-eyed boy who has recently been caught with something vulgar has respect for women. How surprising.

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Joseph Descamps x Reader

Warnings: boys being boys (worse than b4), swearing, one-sided anger, reference to a movie (Hot Rod), love triangle again (new character??), fluff (finally?!?!?!)

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Chapter four: Flashy Magazines

===

I flip through page by page the new magazine I bought. It was imported from america, and the second I heard of it, I ran to the nearest booth.

That was yesterday. Today is Monday morning. I woke up a little earlier to scroll through my said magazine and look for inspiration. I thought I'd do something different. A bit more bold.

Hair bumps and bangs. A style well worn by Priscilla Beaulieu, the speculated lover of Elvis Presley. The magazine was filled with her.

I grab my scissors, lifting my head to look into my bathroom mirror. I read the directions on the magazine, parting a small section at the middle of my hair, pulling it in front of my eyes.

I take a deep breath in. A click from the scissors is heard. Not half bad, I say to myself. I shag it a little, smiling to myself.

I continue to read the instructions to Priscilla's hair bump, deciding to make it just a small bump, curling the ends, then adding hair spray to keep it all intact. Once I was done , I added a pair of pearl earrings.

There's a new dress waiting for me in my closet. It was a present from my parents. A knee-length flowy dress with a boat neckline and a thin strap belt, all in the colour of watermelon red.

I put it on, patting down the skirt, and grab my kitten heels. I pray that I don't get caught. This is probably how Michèle felt on the first day of school.

I take one last look in the mirror. I looked older, like a proper lady. I straighten my back and smile strainedly. I breathe out slowly.

I grab my satchel and coat, then head out of my flat. Walking to school, eyes follow me. From my lovely neighbour to the men smoking cigarettes in the street. I don't mind them and continue to make my way to school.

Once I get there, I see Laubrac walking away from Michèle. I walk up to her and put on a smile.

"Michèle. How have you been?" I lean in to hug her.

"Wow, Y/N. You're stunning. You look like you were made to be in movies." Michèle laughs, and I laugh with her.

"Don't go that far." We smile at each other and make it through the gate. Once again, eyes are on me, younger this time.

We look towards the bathroom, seeing Felbec run towards it, then get rejected access through. A tall frame pushes him away, and I knew exactly who it was. I furrow my eyebrows.

A boy then comes running through the gate, shouting out how he has the money. I notice Annick as she suddenly walks away. When he makes it there, the school bell rings. I laugh, watching him move around disappointed.

××《☆》××

"Literary salons are almost always hosted by women. Madame de Sèvignè, Madame de Lafayette." Our teacher says as he leans on his table with his arms.

The lecture fades, and all I hear is the tapping of my heels on the hardwood floor.

"Dupin." Our teacher calls out. I turn around to take a look, but my eyes lock with one. I squint at Descamps, then shift my eyes to Dupin.

"As you won't stop talking, you seem well-versed on the subject. Can you share your thoughts on the salons with us?" Dupin stands, and I smile softly, seeing his embarassed state.

I turn my head back to the front, but a stare stays on me, making the hairs on the back of my neck rise.

I ignored it at first, and then it started to get annoying. So I turned, and I saw him, and he was smiling. He's smiling. Every time I look at him, either he looks dead inside (though, in my opinion, no dead person could look that pretty.), or he's smiling. And that's what he's doing. He's smiling.

How I wish I could wipe it off.

××《☆》××

My ears pound as I hear Ms. Giraud's voice. I might go deaf, but I keep my composure. The bell rings, and we're finally dismissed.

I hear rushed shuffling. Ms. Giraud calls out to the boy.

"Are you in a rush, Lamazière?" Ms. Giraud yells. I notice it's the same boy that ran to the bathroom with money in his hand.

He gets punished, and I laugh quietly. I grab my things, rushing up to the girls.

"Hey, I need to go to the bathroom. Continue walking without me." They nod, and we part ways.

After using the toilet, I look at myself in the mirror. I never expected that. How conscious I'd be of my looks, my movements, and my habits.

Maybe it comes with the fact I dressed up. But for what, I start to wonder. I don't know why I dressed up in the first place. I know I said for a change, but is that really all?

A flash of an eye comes to mind. I quickly shake it off. No way. Not him.

I clear my throat, then grab my things. I hastily walk out the bathroom, suddenly needing fresh air. As I make it to the hallway of the stairwell, footsteps slow down, and eyes follow me. I stop in my tracks.

I scanned through them, what face they were wearing while looking at me. I look down on myself. I still looked presentable, so what were they looking at?

I start to walk, my eyes following the faces of the boys. Each step I take down feels slower. One flight finished, and I stop glancing at them. My feet tap on the porcelain floor of the stairs as I keep my head down.

One flight left, a tall frame walks into the school. He turns to the stairs, and I stop. Descamps stares at me. I stare at him. He then looks up and sees plenty of eyes on me. I see his jaw clench.

He claps his hands. I flinch at the echo of it.

"Will you boys keep staring, or will I go shopping for a new eye with all of yours?" This gets them moving. The stairwell is noisy again.

I turn my head back to Descamps, and I glare. Hard. I walk towards him, and then I'm reminded of our height difference. I crane my neck upward.

"I could've handled myself, you know?" I squint my eyes, and all he does is stare. Why is he just staring? Can't we fight already? I feel my cheeks flush in embarrassment.

"Are you just gonna stare or are you gonna sa-"

"You're beautiful." I barely even heard it. But I did. Then I acted like I didn't.

"What?" I stutter out, flushed cheeks redder than before.

"You're miserable. You clearly needed my help." I scoff, the comforting warmth I felt quickly replaced with boiling anger.

"Just leave me alone, Descamps." I walk away, and into the courtyard.

Who does he think he is? Some knight in shining armour? He's more like a thief in the streets. But then no thief could be as annoying, as dreadful, as smiley as him. That stupid smile, and those stupid words, and his stupid face. Stupid, stupid face. Sometimes I just wanna grab it and-

I stop in my tracks. There's a line in front of the boys' bathroom. What would they be lining up for? I see a mop of blonde hair and framed eyes. Applebaum. He hasn't talked to me, hasn't said hi, and I always wonder if I'd done anything wrong.

But he's the past. I guess he just doesn't like me. It's too bad. I had high hopes for him. A whip of air pushes by me, and it's Descamps again. He's jogging towards the bathroom. He's collecting coins from them. Really, what's going on?

I look in front of me. Michèle and Simone are seated on the stairs. I sigh in relief. I sit beside them.

"I can't do this anymore. All the boys, they're dreadful. Why did I come here in the first place?" I groan. The girls watch me, amused.

"Because you moved here from Paris and-" I cut Simone off.

"Rhetorical." I mutter. She purses her lips shut.

Michèle clears her throat. "So, you think you'll get married?" I lift my head up.

"To who?" My eyes are wide open as well as my ears.

"Eugène. Simone's lover boy." I cover my mouth in shock.

"What? I thought you had a thing for-" Simone cuts me off this time.

"No. It's a little too soon for that." She answers Michèle's question. I mouth sorry. She nods.

"Aren't you worried he'll want to take things further?" Michèle asks Simone. I started to click the pieces together. I bite on my lip to hide my smile.

"I don't know." Simone smiles at the thought. "Can I have a bite? Thanks." She says as she grabs Michèle's apple and takes a bite from it.

"I hope I find a husband soon. So I can get out of my parents house." I nod at Michèle's statement.

"That's true. But hopefully, no one from here. I'd rather die." They laugh at my overreaction, but honestly, I might just die than marry anyone here.

Well, except for one, maybe. Who, I ask myself. Right. Who am I even talking about? My eyes drift to a one-eyed boy. No. Don't even think about it.

Descamps as a husband? I laugh to myself.

Sure, I can imagine him going to work, coming home, smoking a cigarette or two as he reads the news.

Lounging in the living room one lazy afternoon, shirt slightly unbuttoned and pants a bit loose. Eating breakfast with his family, cooking with his wife (who, for some reason, looks almost like me. Very weird.), kissing her shoulders as his arms wrap around her waist.

His scent, his soft lips, his large frame. Carrying his kids in his arms as he spins them around the backyard. Teaching his son how to catch, playing dolls with his daughter, taking a break on a bench, one arm on his thigh, and the other on me.

Me? I shake my head. No, not me. His wife. Certainly not me. I grimace at the thought. Why would I even?

I sigh deeply, frustratedly. These damn thoughts are infuriating, just like him.

"Happy New Year, Ms. Palladino." My trance gets cut off.

"You too, Sir." Simone responds. I clear my throat, composing myself.

Michèle calls out for her uncle and gets up. I wonder what she's going to do. I don't pay much mind as I scoot over to Simone.

"It's Jean Pierre, isn't it?" She flinches.

"What do you mean?" I roll my eyes at her response.

"You know what I mean. Eugène? It's definitely Jean Pierre." Her cheeks flush, and she drops her head.

"I'm happy for you, really." I smile as she lifts her head, hope in her eyes. My smile wavers a bit. "But how will you tell Michèle?"

Her eyes lose that hope, and she looks away.

"I don't know. He said we shouldn't because she'll never let us see each other again."

"But one day, you'll have to." I grab her hand and rub it gently. She sighs.

"I wish you luck." I whisper, then hug her. She hugs me back. Once we pull away, Michèle sits with us again.

"He didn't want to lend it to me. What does 'adult' mean." I raise my eyebrows and puff out my cheeks, clearly not wanting to answer her question.

Michèle looks around. "What's up with everyone today?"

"You only noticed now?" I chuckle.

"Come with me." Me and Simone get up, following Michèle. She walks and calls towards Pichon.

"What's going on in the bathroom?" Pichon pauses. Too long of a pause.

"Nothing." I squint at him. Obviously not nothing.

"Somethings been going on in there today."

"Not at all. Nothing's going on." Pichon tries to walk away, but I stop him with a palm to his chest.

"Really? Why did you react that way when you ran into Mr. Bellanger?" I start to talk.

"What do you mean?" This is getting annoying.

"Don't act dumb. We know you aren't." I snap at him. "Now, why was your face all red?"

"No. It's not red." I furrow my eyebrows, now really getting angry. I almost shove him before Michèle holds me back.

"Simone, is his face red?" I ask her.

"It's red. Very red." I look back at Pichon and raise my eyebrows, waiting for an answer.

"It's not. It's just my complexion." I try to lunge at him, but Michèle's hands are tight on me.

"So you're not gonna tell us?" Michèle calls out for him. I whip my arms off of Michèle's hold, and she's quick to let me go.

"Of course he won't." I glare at the back of his head.

The bell rings.

××《☆》××

Descamps' group walks into the class together. They're rushing a bit.

"And Applebaum?" One of them asks.

"He's gonna sprain something." Descamps answers. Sprain what? What are they doing in that bathroom anyway?

"He's gonna go deaf." Oh. A shiver runs down my spine as I gag. Gross.

I hear Michèle ask Simone something, probably about what the boys are talking about. I don't wanna tell her.

Ms. Couret walks in and greets us. We're granted to sit. The door opens.

"Didn't you hear the bell, Mr. Applebaum." I gag again seeing him. I should've known he was like everyone else. To believe I might've given him a chance. I grimace.

The boys whisper and laugh. There's a boiling in my stomach. Ms. Couret moves on to the topic.

"Do you know the Beatles?" This catches my attention. No one answers, until Pichon does.

"The British band?" Ms. Couret nods.

"Yes. Let's see if those names ring a bell." I shuffle on my seat, giving my full attention to the discussion.

I don't notice the boys passing around a magazine 'till it comes flying towards Michèle's table. I peek over, and in front of her lies a flashy magazine.

××《☆》××

"He said if we didn't give him a name, the class would get detention every Thursday." Pichon says as everyone huddles in to listen. I feel a warm frame over and behind me, but I ignore it, thinking it's just another classmate.

"Then we all get detention." Dupin states, as if it wasn't already obvious.

"The whole class." Pichon exclaims.

"Even the girls?" My brows furrow. What did we do to be blamed?

"Everybody." We all stop.

"That's not fair." Simone says, and I nod with her.

"Right. What did we do? It was you guys who were being perverts." I call out.

I get more frustrated when a chest bumps into me. It's the same frame I felt earlier. I turn around, and I'm met with Descamps.

"You. You were the ones selling the magazine and passing it around." I glare at him.

"You're disgusting. I don't want you near me." I turn again and bid a quick goodbye to the girls then head home.

"Pardine!" I hear Descamps call out. I roll my eyes and keep walking. Once we're in a quieter area, he grabs my arm and gently pushes me to a wall.

"Please. I swear I would never." I glare up at him.

"Then why were you passing it around?" I ask him, tilting my head up.

His pants fill my ears. It's worrying. I place a hand on his chest.

"Calm down." I state, the worry etched in my voice.

He relaxed under my touch, I felt it, the way his muscles stopped being tense. I kept my face hard.

"Now, explain." My voice comes out demanding.

"I needed some money. What better way to collect it quickly than when there's hundreds of prepubescent boys in one school?" I roll my eyes. I almost walk away before he cages me in the wall with his arms.

"Please. Just... listen. I needed money, okay? I wanted to save up for... for..." He stutters, and my brows crease more.

"For?" I raise my brows, expecting an answer.

"For... records. Yeah. For my mother." I squint at his answer.

"That still won't excuse the fact you're a pervert."

"No, I swear. I would never. I know you don't believe me, but I swear. I swear on my mothers life I would never. Not in school, not anywhere. I respect a woman way too much to do something like that."

"A woman? Who? Your mother?" My brain turns to different answers.

"Yes." He stuttering again. "Definitely, my mother." He pushes away from me, and I feel cold.

I hum. Then I look back up at him, eyes still squinted.

"I'll let it pass for now." I see his face fill with relief, and I almost laugh.

I walk away, but before I get too far, I hear him mutter.

"You look pretty." I turn around, shocked and confused.

"What did you say?"

"I said you look shitty. Goodbye, Pardine!" He calls out as he walks away in a rush. I scoff, then turn back around to walk home.

××《☆》××

I pet George, lounging on my bed, thinking of going out to run some errands. I get up and head to the kitchen.

Stuck to the fridge, I read my mother's shopping list. I get rid of the magnet and stick the note into my coat pocket. I glance at George, then the door, then George again.

I sigh. I pick him up, head to my door, and lock it. We go down the stairs. I place him in my bicycle basket. I make sure he's tucked in well, then ride to the farmers market.

Once I'm there, I glance at the shopping list again. Some vegetables, fruit, flour, etc. I walk past each stall, buying what's needed. Just then, a boy, somewhere my age, walks towards me.

"Hi." He seems confident. "I'm Callum. What's your name?"

I look at him up and down, and then the hand he reaches out for a hand shake. He's tall, but not too tall. Maybe five feet and ten inches. He has long, wavy brown hair, neatly brushed behind his ears. He has deep doe eyes and a smile on his face. I hesitate.

"Y/N." I slowly lift my hand and shake his. His smile widens.

"So, I have a project that requires a model, and when I saw you, I thought you'd be the perfect candidate. Not to be blunt about it, but you're beautiful." I blush at the sudden compliment.

"All you need to do is let me take a couple of photos, and I'll pay you, about... 300 franc?" I gape at the offer.

"Are you sure? Just for pictures?" They nod.

"Yes. Good transaction, yeah? If I win the project, the pictures will be displayed in the front of a car magazine. Is that alright with you?" I think again, but what's there to think about when there's 300 franc on the table?

"Deal." I shake hands Callum's hand, and he smiles wider.

"Good. Now, I'll take you to my car, and you can do a couple of poses in front of it." He led me to his car, and the second I saw the bright mint blue of it, my jaw hits the floor.

"This pretty one," Callum pats the front of the car. "is a 1955 Ford Thunderbird. Mint blue exterior, white top, and a mix of both for the interior. It has the brake horsepower of 193, and she's my most prized possession. She goes up to 23,069 kilometres. Very lovely, right?" He leans on the car, almost hugging it.

I cover my mouth, hiding my smile. He walks over to me, gently grabbing my wrist and pulling it away from my face.

"Keep that smile on, pretty lady. We need it for the pictures." He tilts his head towards the car. "Go on."

I walk slowly. Once I'm near the passengers door, I pose, and I see the flash of the camera.

"Get inside. Take a feel around." I walk to the other side of the car, opening the door and closing it once I'm in. I feel the leather of the wheel against my palm, and I scoff in awe. The camera flashes again.

"I didn't get to pose!" I laugh, slightly embarassed.

"You didn't need to. You're a natural." He snaps another photo, and I laugh again.

After taking a few photos and reviewing them, Callum finally chose one. It was me smiling at the camera with my hands on the wheels, windows rolled down.

He told me I looked perfect, which was, based on what he said, the first thing that came into his mind when he saw me.

The rest of the day, he accompanied me shopping and even offered me a ride around town in his car. I obviously couldn't say no.

He pulled the hood down, letting the wind flow through my hair as we drove in the roads, making it to the fields, stopping by for some gas, and then getting on the road again.

××《☆》××

Callum parks the car in front of his flat, which was only a few blocks away from mine. We decided to walk to my place instead of draining out the car, not before him telling me that it was absolutely fine for him to drive me directly home. When I said I needed my legs moving, he stopped pushing it and agreed.

He puts the hood back on, locking the door with his keys. He walks to my side.

"Good luck with the project." My hands are in my coat pockets as Callum walks me home. He smiles, then looks at me.

"Meeting you was luck itself. That means if you're in my pictures, I'll bring luck with me." I roll my eyes.

"Cheesy." We come to a stop infront of my flat's door.

"Well, this is it." I purse my lips, looking up at him.

"Yup. I guess we're here." His eyes sort of lose its spark. I worry.

"You okay?" I raise my eyebrows, concerned.

"I wanna see you again." He blurts out. "Is tomorrow okay? The results will come out, and I sort of want you to be there."

"Sure. I'll be there." I rub his arm reassuringly. He slowly lifts his hand to cup mine on his arm. He lifts it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss on it.

"Goodnight, Y/N." He smiles softly, lets go of my hand, and leaves. I stay in my place, unsure of what to do. When his frame disappears from my sight, I shiver. What was that?

I'm greeted by George as I get in my flat. My heart's beating out my chest, and I feel anxious. There's something in me. It doesn't feel so good. Some sort of regret. Why?

A boy. Not Callum. Someone else. Taller frame. Shorter hair. One eye. Fuck no. No way. I can't. I shouldn't. Why am I thinking about him?

I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts. 'I don't even call him by his first name.' Joseph Descamps. I feel indifferent calling him his first name. I'm not in terms with him like that. We aren't close enough for me to call him that.

Then suddenly, I want to. I want to call him Joseph. 'Why?' I wonder. Joseph, Joseph, Joseph. It feels nice on the tongue. Descamps is suddenly too long of a name. Joseph is fine. The name, I mean. Not him.

Then suddenly, again, it is. He is. 'No, he's not', but I want him to be. How do I get him to be? 'I can't do this. I really shouldn't.' But, oh, how much I want to.

'No.' I quiet my thoughts. 'No. Never. I won't do it.'

But I want to.

Fuck.

××《☆》××

The next morning, most of the boys are called to the principles office. I sigh in boredom, looking out the window.

"It certainly feels emptier today." Simone says, breaking the silence. I want to laugh, but I can't. I wanted to see the way Joseph's green cardigan looked on his wide frame longer.

I shake my head. I totally didn't get enough sleep last night with that thought popping in my head.

Though, that cardigan really suited him. Green really suits him. It makes him sort of glow. It's not like he doesn't already. Come to think of it, his hair glows, too. It was a bit messy. He probably rushed to school today. I wonder how soft it'll be against my fingers when I brush it off to look neater.

I remember how warm he was that day in the alley. He was so much taller, so he had to basically break his back to reach me. I double take that thought.

He had to break his back just to reach me.

I know he didn't actually break his back, but I just knew that sort of hurt. But it was nice, so I guess it was worth it for him. At least, I hope it was.

Okay, wait. Why am I thinking like this? I guess we're on good terms now. I mean, sure, we bicker, but not as much anymore? I don't know. Whatever. I guess we're fine. I want us to be. I'm tired of being mad at him for no reason.

Yeah. We're fine. That's why I'm thinking like this, right? You know, as a friendly, 'I want to take care of you' kind of way. Which is platonic. Totally. Yeah, that's fine.

Maybe I should say hi from time to time? Or no. Maybe just a nod for a greeting? Too bland. A smile will do. He might be creeped out, though.

I groan internally. Why am I overthinking this? Whatever, I'll just smile and wave. That's good. Simple and effective. Don't overthink it. There's nothing to overthink about.

Ms. Couret walks in, and the class collectively stands up. She's wearing a green dress. It looks nice. It reminds me of Joseph.

Woah. Why am I thinking about him? I think I'm just worried. Yeah. I'm worried about him because we're friends. Wait, are we friends? I'll ask later.

We're told to sit down, and we do. Ms. Couret pulls out a copy of the news. This must be about The Beatles, I remember from the last discussion, before it got interrupted. I light up in my seat.

"We won't wait for your classmates. They're getting tortured at the dean's dungeon." The class laughs.

"Today, we'll start with an article on President Kennedy's murder." So it isn't about The Beatles. I furrow my eyebrows.

I raise my hand.

"Yes?" Ms. Couret lifts her head.

"What about the song?" I shrug my shoulders, asking a bit sadly.

"No. There won't be a song. I don't have the record." I purse my lips in silent disappointment. She passes us some papers, and I sit the rest of the day quietly.

××《☆》××

I walk outside of the gate, the crowds of students slowly dissipating. My hair flows in the wind, styled the same way it was yesterday, except done in a half up half down style. My yellow dress lifts up and down as my legs do.

I'm headed to Callum's school, excited for the results. Almost halfway there, I stop. Joseph is in front of a magazine booth, buying. My heart drops, assuming it was another one of those flashy magazines. But then he leans out the booth, holding a magazine with my face on the cover.

My face is on the cover, and Joseph is buying it.

Two very important things.

One, I got on the cover, so Callum won. Two, Joseph is buying a magazine with my face on the cover. My question is, does he know it's me on the cover? Or is he buying it because he generally likes cars.

I take slow steps forward. The closer I am, the more I hear. And there's a voice inside my head repeating Joseph's words.

"That's my girl." He points to my picture in the magazine, showing the booth owner. "She's gorgeous. I mean, look at her." He makes the magazine face him again. There's a wide smile on his face.

He's smiling. I think I'm starting to like it on him.

The second he turns his head and sees me, the smile I just started to admire drops. He looks red under the afternoon sun.

"Pardine." He clears his throat, hiding the magazine. "What are you doing around here?"

"Headed to St. Patricks. You know the all boys school?" I smile softly. His nervousness seems to fade, for only a little.

"What would you be doing there?" He sounds off.

"Meeting a friend." I lift my shoulders, showing off a smile.

He looks like he melts, then stiffens back up. "A friend? Who? What's his name? What's he look like?"

"You ask a lot of questions. Answer mine first, then I'll answer yours." He nods. "What are you doing here?"

He stutters. "I was just looking around. Thought I'd buy a magazine but then saw you." He's acting uninterested. Or atleast trying to.

"Saw me walking towards you, or saw me in that magazine you have in your hands?" His eyes blow open. I hide my laugh.

"What? What do you- oh." He points to the magazine booth that he's still standing next to.

"That's you? Wow, I didn't know you modelled. It's not like I care or anything." He puts his head down, shrugging his shoulders.

"Why'd you buy it, Joseph?" I smirk, tilting my head, trying to meet his eyes. He shys away.

"I was... gonna burn it. Yeah. I was- wait. What did you call me?" He whips his head up. I try to recall, then flush when I do.

"Nothing."

"You totally called me Joseph." Yes, I did.

"No, I didn't." I shake my head.

"You never call me that." No, but like last night, I want to.

"I didn't call you Joseph."

"You just did."

"You're so childish, Joseph."

"You did it again!"

I groan, walking away from him, as red as when he saw me. Why was he red when he saw me? Whatever, I need to get to Callum.

I hear his steps behind me, and I roll my eyes.

"Y/N, come on." I turn around.

"You called me Y/N."

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did." He definitely did.

"I didn't." Mhm, sure.

"You did. You never call me that." I mock him. He rolls his eye.

"Whatever."

"Whatever." I walk away from him. He doesn't seem to follow after me anymore, but then after a while, I hear his steps again.

"What's your friends name again? Are you sure I wasn't the friend you were gonna meet?" Oh right, I was gonna ask him about that.

"Are we friends?" I stop and turn to him.

He stops, too. No talking, no walking.

"Do you want us to be?" He asks. I pause.

"Yes."

"Then, yeah." There's that smile I missed.

"Good." I continue to walk.

"You didn't answer my first question."

"His name is Callum. He was the one who photographed me." I feel him grab my arm, and we stop again.

"He photographed you? When did you even meet? How are you sure he isn't some old creep?"

"Yes, he did. Yesterday, when I was in the market. He's our age, I made sure to ask."

"Okay, how exactly did he come up to you in the market?" He squints, tilting his head.

"Just went up to me, said hi, called me beautiful, offered money for the photos, took the photos, we drove around in his car, and then he walked me home." I shrug simply. He's still hesitant.

"You drove around in a stranger's car?"

"Correction, friends car."

"Yeah, a friend you just met."

"Whatever, I'm here now safe and sound anyways."

"But what if he was some creep? You need to be more careful, Y/N."

"I said it's whatever, Joseph." His eyebrows are furrowed, then after a while, he nods.

I continue to walk, and he follows. I don't stop him.

Once we're in front of St. Patricks' gate, I see the familiar Ford Thunderbird and quickly make my way, Joseph hot on my feet.

I see the familiar man leaning against the car with his hands in his pockets, then I see his toothy grin. I run up to him and give him a hug that he returns.

"Callum! Congratulations. I knew you had it in the bag." I say as I lean away from him. He keeps his arms wrapped around me. I feel a burning stare on us.

"Told you, you brought me luck." He takes his glasses off with his hand, then places the arm he used back on my waist. I hear footsteps and Callum's hold loosens.

There's an arm around my shoulder. Then, an all familiar voice.

"You alright, man? Congrats on the magazine. Y/N's told me about you." I look up at Joseph. His jaw's clenched.

"Of course she did. She told you about the ride on this pretty thing?" He pats the car, and I flush.

"Yeah, she did. I'm Joseph." He puts a hand out for Callum to shake. They clasp hands, and their grips are tight.

"Callum, but I guess you already knew that. If you don't mind me asking, who are you to Y/N?"

"Her b-"

"Friend. He's a friend." I cut him off. He looks at me with hurt in his eyes, then masks it with fake joy.

"Yup. I'm her friend." He nods to Callum.

"Oh. It's a bit weird that she hasn't mentioned you. You know, since you're friends and all." Joseph's arm tightens around me.

"Yeah, it's not like her to talk about her friends to someone she just met." There's a sarcastic smirk on his face.

Callum hums. "Well, s'nice to meet you, Joseph. Have a good one, yeah? And you, pretty lady..." Callum's gaze shifts to me, stare softening.

"Have a good night." He lifts my hand to his lips, placing a soft and lingering kiss on it. I take a deep breath in, maintaining composure, overwhelmed by the attention both boys were giving me.

Callum turns around and drives off on his car. Once his car was out of sight, I look back at Joseph, his stare still on the road where Callum rode off to.

"What was that?" I squint, tilting my head up. He instantly looks down at me with tending eyes.

"Nothing. I'll walk you home." His hand comes town to my arm, rubbing it gently. We turn to the way to my place.

The sun has set, and the street lights are on. It's a quiet night, the only things being heard are footsteps and draining water.

Only a block away from my flat, Joseph's arms are still around me. It feels comforting. It's nice to have a new friend. Though, I've known him longer.

"When you get home, I want you to say hi to George for me." I laugh at that. "I'm not kidding."

"Yeah, I'll say hi to George for you." I smile at the ground, then look up at him. He's already looking at me. We slow down a bit, just staring.

Then he leans in, and I mirror him. We lean in closer, closer, and closer. A moped engine turns on. We stop, and pull away.

"Here we are." He stops, and I didn't even notice we were already at my place.

"Oh. Right." He steps away from me, the arm around my shoulders gone. I feel alone again.

"Well, good night, Y/N." He stand there with his hands in his pockets.

"Good night, Joseph." I purse my lips. He nods. I walk up quarter way to the steps, then I stop.

I go back down, see Joseph, I tip toe, then press a kiss on his cheek. I quickly walk up the stairs again, almost tripping.

I make it to the inside of my flat, not bothering to turn the light on, then rush to the window. I peek out of it, and he's still there. He looks bewildered. Then, a smile slowly sits on his face. He stays there for a while, and then he walks away.

I slowly get up from my place, turning on the light, and I just stand there. Then, I squeal.

Holy fucking shit. Oh my gosh. No way, no way, no way, no way. I just kissed his cheek. Holy shit.

That's normal. Totally. Just a friendly kiss. But it felt nice.

I check the time. It's 12 in the morning. New year's kiss. I just had Joseph as my New Year's kiss. Kind of.

I see George, and smile wider.

"Joseph said hi."

I definitely don't hate not hating him anymore.

××《☆》××

End of- Chapter four: Flashy Magazines

Next- Chapter five: You Know Where To Find Me, and I Know Where To Look

××《☆》××

It's finally done 😭😭 watch me take a month for chapter five /j. Anw, this is a handful chapter. So many emotions. This is turning out to be an enemies to frienimies to lovers. What do u guys think abt Callum? Honestly, hes lowkey me cus i love cars. I wish i had his car. More of him soon too. I wanted tk add fluff so that u guys dont get the idea that im not making joseph and reader end game. I promise i am but u guys have to wait. Happy reading hope u guys liked this!!!

[starsomens]

Know Your Place.

Warnings: Language, strong themes, slight voyeurism (?), fingering, dirty talk, possessiveness, slight breeding mention at the end,

"if you are here in this room. it means you have what it takes." Noah speaks to a handful of young men. New recruits were brought in, trained and tested. 10 new recruits passed and are having their first briefing with the head of the organization, Noah Sebastian. Tall, covered in tattoos, intimidating, intelligent, filthy rich, and powerful in everyway. He was known to be someone you don't fuck around with. He'd have you gone in a matter of hours, no traces, evidence or memory left behind.

As soon as he stepped into the room his presence was felt strongly. Their hairs standing on end, frame stiff, and fully aware. He grabs the folder on his desk and doesn't bother to look at them. He leans against the front of the heavy wooden furniture. The dark red carpet and dim lights making the atmosphere all the more adrenaline inducing. He read off names and each one makes themselves known.

"A pair of you will be assigned to a head of certain duties. There are no room for mistakes," he said letting the folder fall on to his desk, circling the desk and coming to sit down "Make sure you pay attention and perfect your craft. Understand?"

"Yes sir." they say in unison.

"Although you are all assigned specific tasks you all have one universal responsibility here and that is-"

"Noah, I was finally able to find those documents you needed- oh sorry were you busy?" you said stepping into his office not knowing he had newbies. He shook his head and waved for you to come over. you wore a simple btu elegant black dress with a boat neckline that came down to about your mid thigh. You come in front of his desk and place the files down. Of course unknown to you the new recruits had wandering eyes and a few blushed at your beauty. Who could blame them? You were truly breath catching, stealing all eyes wherever you go.

Noah however, did not like it. Especially from his new recruits staring at what was his. His jaw clenches and he gets an idea

"Princess" he calls in a much lower tone "Come here." he called patting his lap. With a shy smile you sway your hips and walks around the desk, letting your fingers glide over the furnished wood. You take a seat and his hand instantly places itself on your ass and the other slips just under the hem of your dress. His eyes locking with each of the new men making a clear statement.

She. Is. MINE.

His nose nudges your jaw, already knowing what he wanted. His large hand slithers over your body and up to your jaw as his lips capture yours. It wasn't a peck or a simple kiss. This was a deep, sex inducing kiss. His tongue slips past your lips and dances with yours. He leaves your lips and kisses the corner of your jaw and wanders down your neck. He knows they're still in the room, he wanted them there, he wants them to know their place.

They work for him. You were off limits. You were his alone.

One had tried to turn to leave and Noah stopped him

"Ah. I haven't dismissed you." he side eyes them still hovering above your neck. "You leave, when I clear you." his face turns from your neck and scans over the line of men, his other hand caresses your thigh and slips under the fabric every now and then. Your hand traces up his chest to cup the corner of his job and you bring his face half way to your lips. Kisses traced from his temple and down to his jaw

"As I was saying before," he continues as his hand continues further up your dress. His fingers playing and grazing with the edges of your underwear "This is my wife. One of your top priorities is to ensure her safety. You let even one hair on her head come close to danger, I will personally strangle you..." He had a straight face despite his fingers running over your covered clit.

You turn your face to come close to his ear "Noah.." you whine "here?" you whisper shyly to him. It's not that you minded but you knew how he felt about you, and fingering you in front of his subordinates? It's not like it was the first time but sometimes you had to check to make sure it's what he wanted

He turns his towards you and whispers "They want to look at what's mine, then I'll give them something to look at." he smirks looking at one specific man.

"Carter," he reads a last name, the young man steps forward. Try to keep his composure and his eyes on Noah. "You were the top performer in this group, which means I'll be assigning you as protection for Y/N whenever she leaves the house without me."

"yes sir." he said in a small but clear voice. After Noah looks down at the paper on his desk Carter steps back in place, the silence in the room was deafening. Noah simply reading the paper over while you looked like you were struggling. His hands had slipped past your panties and into your pussy. You walls clenching around his long digits. You had no idea what it was about this that turned you on so much.

Maybe it was the possessiveness? How assertive he was? The audience you had? Maybe it was just Noah being himself, letting every new comer know who you were, and who you belong to. Your mouth fell slightly as his fingers curl within you, brushing against your sweet spot. You were more than sure they could see how your chest rose and fell. You hide your face in Noah’s neck, and you could practically hear the smirk on his face.

“Next, Johnson, Lee, and Peters. You’ll be under supervision of Jolly anything having to do with operations” he briefly explains. “They’ll be waiting outside for you” once he was done speaking the recruits walk out one behind the other and shut the door. 4 down, 6 to go.

The heel of his palm pressed against you clit sending shivers through your being. You bite down on your lip, suppressing the moan being held in your throat. Fighting the urge to rock against his hand. He took notice in the way your breathing changed, so he withdrew his his finger and plunged them in once again. You could help the whimper that slipped out. Noah for one loved it.

“Santos, Garcia, smith. You’ll be under supervision of Folio, any and all firearms are overseen by you lot” another 3…just three left.

One recruit in particular had shifted a bit in stance. Noah is very observant and he had seen something that truly pissed him off.

“So, Myers…..see something you’re enjoying?” Noah’s eyebrows knit together as he leans back in his cushioned seat. The springe whine against the weight, his hands stop, still inside of you. Your head comes up and you try to keep a straight face, try to regulate your breath. Looking over at your husband you cousins help but squeeze around his fingers. He may have been scary and intimidating but goddamn did it make him look sexy.

"N-no sir!" he answers

"Seems like you have a bit of interest in something in this room..." his fingers pump in and out again. Making a 'come here' motion your head lulls back to rest and hang on his shoulder. No longer hiding the fact he was pleasuring you. "That something is out of the question. Do you understand that?" he asks as his eyes burn holes into his, his deep dark hues staring into the depts of his soul. Scaring him to his core.

"Yes sir." he answers trying not to break under his stare. Your hand flies to Noah's wrist as you could feel your orgasming approaching. You head flings back into his neck, you body trembling at sensation, a coil was forming in the pit of your stomach. Tightening more and more with each curl of his fingers and eat rub of his palm. Your clit was throbbing and your walls were clenching around him. Your juices coated his hand just the way he liked

"You and the rest are under Nick, he'll explain his department" he scowled letting the paper fall back on his desk

"Yes sir!" they answer

"Now get the fuck out." he tells directing his full attention to you. His lips finding your again in a deep sensual kiss. Your dress rolls up to sit on your hips, your legs and panties now exposed to him.

Just before the door can shut Noah calls out "And Myers."

"yes sir?" he answers cautiously

"Keep your eyes off my wife." he warns making a final thrust that pushes you over the edge. Your moans fill the room and leak into the hallway. Your finally cum and leak over his fingers, those same fingers coming up to his lips, giving them a lick "you clear."

The door shuts and he looks at you trying to catch your breath. His softly smirks and comes down to kiss your head

"Did that feel good princess?" he asked you littering your skin with kisses, very satisfied with his performance.

"Y-yes..but you could have waited" you pout at him

"Oh don't be mad at me princess" he scoots towards the desk and lifts you on to it "now tell daddy how he can make it better. Anything my queen desires" he offered with a kiss to your knee

"mmm...well maybe I do want something," you smile as your heel comes up and rubs against his bulge with the flat of the red bottoms.

"Does my good girl wanna get fucked on daddy's desk" he smirks against your lips as his body slots between your legs, grinding against your pussy

"Mhm," you nod spreading you legs further for him "please Noah...need your cock, inside." you lean back onto your elbows and wait patiently for him

"Anything for you princess" he unbuckles his belt a sharp grin spreading on his face "gonna fill that pussy up, nice and full." he large hands rest on your knees and spread your legs gazing at his favorite view for the night.

「✨Taglist✨」 @lilhobgobbler @cncohshit @vir-tual @tdopomymind @concretenoah @misspygmypie @fvckmeorchokeme @lust-for-sacher @thescarlettvvitch @cind6547 @itsmrsfuentes @purple-lili @ima1986 @feralfornoah

[flowerandblood]

A Winter Beauty (1)

[Aemond Targaryen x fem!Stark reader]

[warnings: kissing and fluff]

[description: Aemond and his family arrive at Winterfell for Rickon Stark's Name Day. There, Aemond meets his daughter, who arouses his desire. I changed some names and facts for the sake of the plot. Viserys is also slightly younger in this version.]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next parts: Masterlist

_____

Viserys and his family have come to Winterfell to celebrate the Name Day of Rickon Stark, Lord of Winterfell. It was a nod to the north, a sign of respect for their loyalty and devotion to the crown for generations. Viserys decided that this visit, although for trivial reasons, would be of great political importance and would positively affect their image in this sometimes forgotten part of the country.

Neither Alicent nor his children had ever been to Winterfell before. Although his children were reluctant to leave Kings Landing, in the end they all went on this long journey. During their absence, the state was to be administered by Otto.

Aegon, Aemond and Helaena flew on their dragons. Neither of them wanted to be crammed in for more than a week of traveling in a cramped carriage or on horseback.

The king and queen were forced to take the land route. Viserys' condition deteriorated with his age, but despite Alicent's pleas, they did not turn back. Viserys knew it would be a huge slander for Winterfell, they must have been preparing for this visit for months.

When they finally arrived, the dragons made a great impression on the inhabitants, causing some to panic. The biggest was Vhagar's, landing in the great snowy wasteland far from the castle, so she posed no threat. She was visible from many meters.

When they entered Winterfell, already on horseback, the entire welcoming committee was waiting for them, including Lord Rickon Stark and his wife, Lady Lyanna Arryn. Lord Stark knelt before Viserys, as did all his family, paying him homage.

"My king. It's an honor." He said in a serious, calm tone. Viserys smiled gracefully, doing his best to hide the fatigue of his journey, and stretched out his hands to him, wanting to hug him like a brother. Lord Stark seemed embarrassed for a moment, but he got up from his knees and embraced the king, the crowd around started cheering.

After a short rest and changing clothes, everyone gathered in the great hall of the castle. In its center stood a large wooden table, arranged perpendicularly to the 6 other tables below, intended for other lords and less important guests. Lord Stark has prepared a lavish feast for the king with music and dancing.

Aemond was one of the last to enter the room, sitting on the edge of the table next to his sister, Helaena. Next to her sat Aegon, then Alicent and the king, next to him Lord Stark, his wife and their eldest son, Cregan. The seat next to Cregan was empty.

Although Aemond was initially discouraged by the expedition itself and the change of environment, he found Winterfell a gray but interesting place. The fields and forests filled with snow in the sun looked beautiful and clean, almost fairy-tale, at least compared to some streets of Kings Landing, where sewage simply flowed.

After a while, a girl came in from the other end of the room. Aemond saw her long, slightly wavy black hair out of the corner of his eye.

They weren't combed in any hairstyle, they were just thrown over her shoulders, which were bare because her dress seemed to be made so that it barely held on, creating a boat neckline that showed nothing more than she wanted. The dress was a dull soft blue that rustled as she walked. It accentuated her bright, glowing eyes. She was grinning at Cregan Stark, and Aemond thought, seeing her eyes, that she was his wife.

Indeed, she took a seat next to him. Cregan took her hand and kissed it, she laughed heartily at something he said. Lady Lyanna bent over her, questioning her with a frown - she obviously resented her being late. The girl explained something to her quickly, Cregan just laughed under his breath, and Lady Stark stepped back, smiling slightly herself. Apparently, her explanation did something.

Aemond looked away, deciding that it wasn't right to look at someone's wife like that. He exchanged a few words with Helaena, but looking at her he couldn't stop his eye from darting back to the girl sitting next to Cregan Stark.

She was talking to him lively, didn't seem to notice them at all, and didn't seem to care that the king and queen were sitting next to her. Her face was bright, warm and happy, she looked like it was the happiest day of her life.

They seemed to get along perfectly well. Aemond thought about Helaena's soon to marry Aegon, and his throat tightened. He genuinely felt sorry for her, but he couldn't help her.

Suddenly the music started. Cregan immediately extended his hand to the girl he was talking to, who gladly accepted it. They both got up and wanted to head downstairs to the dance floor, but Lord Stark's voice stopped them.

"Merciful king, I haven't had time to introduce my daughter to you yet." He said, pointing to the girl, who looked surprised at her father and became ashamed as if she suddenly realized who she was facing. "Y/N Stark."

The young Lady Stark bowed with dignity, closing her eyes. Viserys and Alicent looked at her kindly.

"What a winter beauty." Alicent said, sincerity in her voice. "I congratulate you, Lord Stark, on such a reason to be happy."

The girl blushed at her remark, pursed her lips in embarrassment. Only now could Aemond hear the sound of her voice.

"Thank you for those kind words, my queen." She spoke warmly, her voice lively, gentle and calm, full of energy. Aemond shivered for some reason. He felt his heart pounding as he looked at her. She, to his frustration, didn't turn a single glance in their direction. She merely turned to her brother and followed him down the few steps to dance.

Aemond wasn't used to situations like this. Usually, ladies, even if they feared him, knowing that he was a prince, paid him a lot of attention - which most often bothered him and which he avoided. His father planned for him to marry one of Borros Baratheon's daughters.

He had visited Storms End several times with his father, and recalled it as an ordeal. Each of his daughters was vying for his attention, but they were trying to pretend they weren't. They accidentally bumped into him during training or on walks while he was reading, so he would retreat to his chamber, tired and discouraged.

Nothing was official yet, but he knew that sooner or later he would have to choose one of them. He was furious with himself that his attention was drawn to a woman who didn't even give him a single look. He couldn't help but watch her dance, his fingers tapping gently on the table. They were talking about something with Cregan, self-absorbed, laughing. There was a slenderness and grace in their movements that he lacked in dancing.

Suddenly Cregan leaned over her and whispered something in her ear, and she turned to look at Aemond with puzzled eyes. Aemond immediately looked away to the other side of the room, his heart pounding, feeling like a fool caught red-handed stealing. He wanted to burn himself with shame. He pursed his lips and decided not to look at her again.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw various lords of the north come up to her, asking her to dance one by one, and she politely agreed. He tried not to look at her, but he saw that she spoke to everyone gently and with a smile, not exceeding the limits of decency. He was mad for some reason. He thought he had drunk too much wine.

Cregan Stark approached Helaena and asked her to dance. His sister accepted the offer with a smile. Aemond saw Aegon get to his feet and, encouraged, moved toward the young Lady Stark. She looked at him, surprised, and smiled when he offered her a dance. Aemond's jaw clenched at the sight.

To his surprise, in front of his father and mother, Aegon at least pretended to be able to behave. Aemond watched tensely to make sure his hand didn't go too low. He would whisper something in her ear sometimes, and she would turn her head away in embarrassment mixed with amusement, but she didn't seem discouraged and looked at him kindly. On one of the turns, he saw her look at him again, this time with curiosity, and he looked away again, burned. Compared to Aegon, he always felt deficient.

Although his mind was more receptive, full of knowledge, enthusiasm, humility, his body was more efficient in combat, he knew that first impressions count. Aegon, when he wasn't lying in his own vomit between the whore's legs, could pass for a very handsome, interesting man.

It was very easy for him to talk to the ladies, to make contact with them, to flirt with them, which Aemond couldn't. Even though he had a lot to say, he couldn't put it into words.

The dance ended and Y/N and Cregan returned to their seats. Out of the corner of his eye, Aemond saw her bare arms glistening with sweat and exertion, and felt the heat of his lower body. He felt remorse for thinking that way about a woman when his mother and sister were sitting next to him, and he only took a sip of wine, as if he wanted it to wash away all impure thoughts from him.

The rest of the feast passed peacefully, the guests slowly dispersed to their chambers. Y/N and Cregan soon said goodbye to everyone. Aemond's heart leaped as he saw that before she could get through the door, she turned toward him, her gaze bright and warm.

Aemond promised his mother that he would watch over Aegon. So he obediently stayed with him to the end, tearing him away from the kitchen wench and leading him to his chamber. He made him lie down on the bed, and after initially struggling, he gave in and fell asleep, snoring.

Aemond closed the door to his chamber and stepped out into the cloister, heading for his own room. He froze, seeing her figure slinking by with only a candle in his hand. She was already dressed in a long white nightgown, over it she had a white night robe tied at the waist. With her fair skin, dark hair and eyebrows and white robes, she looked like a ghost.

She looked around as she walked barefoot to see if anyone was seeing her, and when she saw him, her eyes widened in surprise. He wondered if she was on her way to see her lover. They stared at each other for a moment in silence. Aemond felt he had to speak to her, that if he didn't do it now, he never would.

"Should a lady go unattended alone at night in a castle?" He asked, there was an involuntary coldness and indifference in his voice, in which he tried to dress his words so as not to show how much his heart was pounding. To his surprise, Lady Stark smiled as if she was about to laugh.

"She's allowed if it's her castle." She said carefully. Aemond pursed his lips at her remark. She saw it and smiled even wider. "Will you accompany me, Prince Aemond?" She asked, a sudden shudder ran through his body. He felt the heat and tension in his lower body again, and he wondered what she was implying. She didn't let him think too long.

“I heard you love philosophy and history. You may be interested in the crypts of my ancestors. I was just on my way to pay my respects to my grandmother. Today is also her name day." She said embarrassed, as if she felt that what came out of her mouth earlier could sound very ambiguous.

Aemond swallowed softly, feeling relieved and disappointed at the same time. He just nodded his head, letting out only a quiet grunt of approval. He would went to see anything with her, as long as he could look at her up close.

Lady Stark led him down the stairs to the underworld. Her candle was the only source of light. He wondered if she was cold, but she didn't seem that way. She moved through the dark corridors with remarkable ease. They passed sculptures of her ancestors, staring at them solemnly and menacingly, the shadows on their faces disturbing.

Finally, they stopped in front of a statue of a pretty woman holding flowers in her hand. Y/N lit other candles from her candle, standing at the feet of the sculpture, the corridor slowly began to be flooded with their light. Aemond stared heart pounding at her profile.

He wondered how she could trust him so easily. Go underground with a strange man, where no one would hear her cries for help. If she had come down here with Aegon, she would have been lost by now. He himself was battling some wild, alien desire that now possessed his body.

He was completely bewildered, always able to control himself perfectly, also when it came to his sexuality. After an adventure at the age of 13 in a brothel served to him by his brother, such matters did not attract him much attention. Now, looking at her, he felt hunger.

"Is it wise to go down to the crypts with a strange man, at night?" He finally asked impassively, looking at her tensely. She looked at him surprised, as if she didn't even consider the possibility that anything could happen to her. She smiled calmly.

"I didn't come down here with your brother, so I guess I'll be fine, my prince." She spoke calmly, though her voice trembled slightly. Aemond's pupil dilated in shock. She had to watch Aegon at the banquet and see how closely he spoke to the servants.

Aemond swallows silently, looking away. They stood in silence for a moment. He could smell her scent in his nose. A mix of lavender, flowers and herbs. He felt like his head was spinning and that he should go back upstairs because the tension in his pants was unbearable.

"You never dance, my prince?" She asked suddenly, looking pensively at the figure of her grandmother. Aemond looked at her in surprise. His eye traveled down her body, he saw the faint outline of her breasts and thighs. He swallowed, feeling his heart pounding.

"Never." He said indifferently. He didn't know what else to add. "I can dance, but I don't enjoy it." He finally exhaled.

Y/N looked at him surprised and smiled understandingly. She nodded, looking down at her legs. Aemond pursed his lips. He thought he couldn't stand it.

His hand involuntarily reached for her soft cheek, grabbing it. She gasped at his touch, jumped in surprise, and looked at him with wide eyes. The words stuck in her throat as he turned her face towards him and stepped closer to her. He pressed her forehead against his, they could feel each other's breath on each other, breathing raggedly, loudly.

He didn't hold her roughly, he wanted to give her the feeling that she could pull away at any moment and run from him. She looked stunned for a moment, her eyes expressing terror, uncertainty and something he couldn't describe. They looked at each other in silence.

He felt a huge shiver run through his body as her hand touched his scarred cheek. They both took a deep breath. He wondered what they were even doing, what his mother would think if she saw him. But he couldn't think about it anymore. He had been frustrated throughout the feast, watching her dance and touch every man but him.

He leaned over her and pressed his lips greedily against hers, and she moaned softly in surprise. He kissed her lustfully, and after a moment, to his delight, she opened her mouth, allowing him to caress her. He moaned low as she started kissing back, her hand tangling in his hair.

He thought they must be crazy, that the wine had gone too far into their heads, but he couldn't tear himself away from her. He held her in an iron grip, the wet sounds of their mouths echoing down the hall, pausing sometimes for a moment to catch their breath, but neither of them could really stop, they continued kissing, moaning into each other's mouths. He held her close but kept his distance so she wouldn't feel what was going on in his pants. He didn't want her to think he was trying to take her by force now. He wouldn't be able to refuse her, if she offered it.

They finally broke apart, as if remembering who they were, where they were, and what they were doing. An expression of uncertainty and embarrassment crossed their faces, and they took a few steps away from each other, terrified. Aemond thought she could hear his heart pounding. He had never felt so much desire before. He prayed to the Seven to give him the strength to turn around, climb the stairs, and not touch her.

"Forgive me, my Lady. I didn't mean to scare or embarrass you. Let me go to my chambers." He said, and with the last of his willpower he turned away, heading for the stairs, leaving her in the candlelight.

_____

Between the first and second part of my regular series, I also started writing something else, in the subject of HOTD. I'm curious what you think and if you'd like a little mini-series out of this! If you want to be tagged in the next parts, let me know. ~

[chicinsilk]

Jardin des Modes Décembre 1955

Jacques Heim Haute Couture Collection Fall/Winter 1955-56. Susan Hook wears "La Licorne", a dinner dress in a wool and silk blend. Its empire line is highlighted by a wide velvet ribbon in a deeper tone, note the boat neckline widened to the shoulders and the ankle length.

Jacques Heim Collection Haute Couture Automne/Hiver 1955-56. Susan Hook porte "La Licorne", robe de diner en tissu mélangé de laine et soie. Sa ligne empire est soulignée par un large ruban de velours d'un ton plus soutenu, à noter le décolleté bateau élargi jusqu'aux épaules et la longueur à la cheville.

Photo Jacques Moutin

[missgavi]

imagine where gavi just loves the readers boobs, always wants to sleep on them, suck them, motor boat, titty fuck

your favourite whore is baaaack 🥰

in just your bra and panties, the music at full volume, you brows through your wardrobe for an outfit. Pablo was taking you out for lunch and then a walk around Barcelona and you had no idea what to wear. 

Today was wash day so all of your good clothes were either in the laundry machine, the hamper or drying on the rack. After a few more minutes of debating , you finally settle on some old jeans and a black shirt with an oval neckline, showing plenty of cleavage. 

The shirt slipped perfectly on but the jeans were giving you some trouble. They fit you length wise but they were a bit tight in the ass area. Grabbing onto both sides on the pants, you start jumping up and down in hopes the jeans would slide right on. 

At that exact moment Gavi came marching in , dressed in some baggy jeans and a casual t shirt and was about to ask you if you’re ready when his words die in his throat, the only thing he can focus on now being your tits jumping up and down. 

When you finally spot him, completely unaware of his naughty gaze, you sigh “Gavi bebe, I can’t get these jeans on.” you whine “Help please ?” 

Breaking out of his trance, with a small smirk on his lips he approaches you but instead of going behind you to help pull your jeans up, he takes ahold of the front of the pants, a small “jump” leaving his mouth. 

You do as your told, once again unaware of the show you just gave the boy and once the jeans are finally on you give him one of your breath taking smiles. 

Leaning up on your tippy toes, you kiss his cheek “Gracias mi amor, vamos” But before you can move from his grip, he tugs the both of you over to the bed, Gavi sitting down and pulling you closer. 

“Let’s just stay at home” he whispers, his gaze and hands already over your tits. Laughing , you try to pull back but the boy’s hands just tighten around you. 

Leaning down, you distract him with a quick kiss and while he isn’t paying attention you get away from his grip. “Yeah, there’s no way we’re staying at home after all of that just to get in these jeans. Put your shoes on, I’ll wait for you by the door” 

[chic-a-gigot]

Le Petit écho de la mode, no. 46, vol. 44, 12 novembre 1922, Paris. Une Mariée. Ville de Paris / Bibliothèque Forney

Robe de mariée en satin charmeuse ou en crepe de Chine. Forme kimono à manches courtes; décolleté en bateau bordé de plis en liserés. Taille longue, serrée par des plis bouillonnés formant ceinture. Gros choux de bouillonnés d’où part un coquillé formant panneau. Voile de tulle, retenu par une couronne de boutons d’oranger.

Wedding dress in charmeuse satin or crepe de Chine. Kimono shape with short sleeves; boat neckline edged with edging pleats. Long waist, tightened by bubbled pleats forming a belt. Large bubbled sprouts from which a shell forms a panel. Tulle veil, held by a crown of orange blossom buds.

Corsage 15002, métrage: 1 m. 60 en 110; jupe 15002 bis, métrage: 5 mètres en 110.

[savage-kult-of-gorthaur]

"THE FULL SKIRT GIVES THE DRESS A FLOATY AND PLAYFUL NATURE, WHILE THE DROPPED WAIST..."

PIC(S) INFO: Spotlight on classic film actress Audrey Hepburn in the Givenchy wedding dress that her character Jo Stockton wore in the 1957 romantic comedy/musical "Funny Face." The dress is a white ballerina-length wedding gown featuring a full skirt, a dropped waist, and a tight bodice.

"Who better to take fashion inspiration from than the icon herself, Audrey Hepburn? She looks playful, yet elegant and refined in this Givenchy ballerina length dress.

Although Jo Stockton (Audrey Hepburn) was a heartbroken model when she first put on the Givenchy short tulle wedding dress in "Funny Face" (1957), her happy ending came in style as she wore the dress while dancing with Fred Astaire.

The full skirt gives the dress a floaty and playful nature, while the dropped waist really shows off a petit waist. The bodice is topped off with a Sabrina neckline, also known as a boat or bateau neckline. Givenchy often chose this neckline for Hepburn specifically as it showed off her prominent collar bones."

-- OCCASIONAL ON WEST STREET, "Going to the Movies for Wedding Inspiration: 12 Iconic Wedding Dresses from the Silver Screen"

Sources: www.occasionsbridal.co.uk/going-to-the-movies-for-wedding-inspiration, X, & Business Insider.

[metalbvcky]

Bloom!Verse Masterlist

It's been three years since the birth of this enormous series. I never thought a oneshot (which became eight chapters) could lead me to such character development and world building, but here we are. And I'm still writing, the muse hasn't died, and I'm not nearly finished (or ever will be). The lore is ✨ infinite ✨ So I thought I'd make an updated masterpost— in chronological order (as it's been written in reverse)— for the new year. Aster should be finished by the late spring and then I'll likely start the wedding fic 😉 I still have dozens of ideas for this series, it's insane. In fact, I have a poly fic in the works, I just need to continue and finish it 😋

🌷🥀🌷🥀🌷🥀🌷🥀🌷🥀🌷🥀🌷🥀🌷🥀🌷🥀🌷🥀🌷🥀🌷

Shelves of Aster - 96k (WIP)

Tags: Alternative Universe - Bookstore, Sugar Daddy, Meet Cute, First Meetings, Age Difference, Falling In Love, Healthy Relationships, Experienced Dom/Inexperienced Sub Snippet: Their eyes lock the second Steve pulls back slightly. They gaze at each other for what feels like forever, as if a magical force is drawing them in, closer, and closer until neither of them can ignore the tension surrounding them. Steve’s breath puffs against Bucky’s lips when he speaks, “Can I kiss you?”

Peach and Lemon Blossoms - 1k (oneshot)

Tags: Established Relationship, Office Sex, Implied Top Steve/Bottom Bucky, PWP Snippet: Bucky has always fantasized about office sex, and always found the risk to be a bit thrilling. He made sure to lock the door before he came inside, so there wasn’t a chance of anyone walking in on them, though there was still a possibility someone could knock.

Rose Blue - 60k, 8 chapters (complete)

Tags: Established Relationship, Married Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, 24/7 D/S relationship dynamic, Kinky Husbands In Love, a whole bunch of smut tags Snippet: Steve smiles at Bucky before he reaches across the dresser, to the dedicated spot where they keep their accessories and things. Draped around a velvet bust is a sterling silver choker, the petite chain link gleaming in the soft lamplight. Beside the bust is a ring boat containing a wedding band that matches the one attached to the choker’s oval pendant, curved downward. Blue accent roses decorate the gold tinted sides, a crystal stone shining in the center with leaves tucked throughout.

Dreams of Poppy Fields (3 times Bucky pretended to be asleep and 1 time Steve caught him) - 4.8k (oneshot)

Tags: Established Relationship, Married Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Fluffy and Smut, Light Angst, Possessive Steve Snipppet: Steve kneels down to pry the trowel out of Bucky’s hand from where he’d been tending to the garden. He slides Bucky’s stained gardening gloves off and tosses them aside, out of Dum-E’s reach. It isn’t the first time he’s had to carry Bucky to bed, and it surely won’t be the last, so Steve sees no problem in picking him up.

A Mug Filled with Pink Irises - 2.3k (oneshot)

Tags: Established Relationship, Married Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Kitchen Sex Snippet: Steve crosses his legs, fixated on Bucky’s exposed collar bone from the low-cut neckline. Peppering kisses to his husband’s neck, not to mention sucking on the most sensitive spots, has always been his favorite part about foreplay.

Dark Dahlias at the Annual Potts/Romanov Costume Party - 6.5k (oneshot)

Tags: Established Relationship, Married Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Halloween, Humor, House Party, Domestic Fluff, Pepper Potts/Natasha Romanov Snippet: “Give me your best sexual pick-up line,” Bucky says, one-hundred percent intending to use it on Steve, if Nat doesn’t beat him to it. Clint leans against the counter, scratching his head in thought. Dressed as Fred Jones is truly uncanny for this particular moment. “I’m peanut butter. You’re jelly. Let’s have sex?”

Wild Amaranth Desires - 5.1k (oneshot)

Tags: Established Relationship, Married Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Roleplay, Cages, Leashes, Blink and you'll miss it mention of a threesome Snippet: Bassy music thrums through the walls, the sound rushing in and around the small, closed-off area. A few multi-colored lights gently strobe in the background, occasionally highlighting over the cage that sits in the middle of the room.

Amaryllis in Baskets - 1.3k (oneshot)

Tags: Established Relationship, Married Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, PWP, Dirty Talk, Cooking Snippet: Now here they are, Steve finishing up lunch while Bucky sits at the breakfast table with the warm, afternoon sun slipping through the curtains.

His Precious Primrose - 4.1k (oneshot)

Tags: Established Relationship, Married Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Christmas, PWP, Aftercare Snippet: Steve takes the steps one at a time, his cotton, calf-length robe grazing the railing. Once at the bottom, he strolls through the hallway and into the kitchen, passing the dining room while on his way. He walks slowly, with no rush at all, when a gift wrapped up in front of the lit fireplace slips into the corner of his vision.

Identical Mauve Carnations - 3.6k (oneshot)

Tags: Established Relationship, Married Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Dream Sequence, Wet Dream, Self-cest, Bucky/Bucky, Winter Soldier Bucky Snippet: “It’s been a while since I’ve been with a pretty thing like you,” James purrs, reaching up to brush a metal knuckle over Bucky’s cheek. “Think you can handle being with me?”

🌷🥀🌷🥀🌷🥀🌷🥀🌷🥀🌷🥀🌷🥀🌷🥀🌷🥀🌷🥀🌷🥀🌷

Because I know not everyone reads threesomes, I've listed the rest under the cut (and this post is long enough) 😉

Cattails In the Rogers-Barnes Household (A Scavenger Hunt for Lube, 5 +1) - 12k, 2 chapters (complete)

Tags: Married Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Threesomes, Pre-Poly, Dom Loki, Switch Loki Snippet: Loki vaults themself forward and successfully closes the door without alerting anyone. They scan the room slowly, spotting every little detail. The desk is rather tidy, however, the sitting area is the polar opposite. Magazines are scattered across the floor, throw pillows shoved to the side, and overall just in a disarray. What really catches their eye is the pair of leather cuffs poking out between the cushions, along with a thin strap for a blindfold.

A Toy to Share, Restrained by Coriander - 6.7k (oneshot)

Tags: Threesomes, Pre-Poly, BDSM scene Snippet: Loki pushes off of the wall from where they’d been leaning, arms no longer crossed, and takes a couple of long, determined steps. Bucky cranes his neck up due to Loki’s height, just an odd number of inches taller than him. Both of their gazes are locked in on each other, eyes unmoving while Loki curves a single finger under Bucky’s jaw.

Strangled by Thoughts of Poison Ivy (Bucky Rogers-Barnes and the No Good, Very Bad Week) - 9.2k (oneshot)

Tags: Pre-Poly, Scene Gone Wrong, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst Snippet: Steve doesn't think, he just reacts, his body moving on its own as he scrambles to loosen the straps holding Bucky in before he hurts himself. The second they loosen even a fraction, Bucky breaks free, scrambling rapidly backward off of the bench, his back slamming into the wall behind them. Steve tries to catch him but Bucky pulls his arm away, and god, it feels like a stab to the heart to watch Bucky curl on himself like a wounded animal.

Honeysuckles Growing on the Window Sill - 22k, 5 chapters (complete)

Tags: Threesomes, Feelings Realization, Friends to Lovers, Relationship Discussions, Fluff and Smut Snippet: Steve’s face turns serious, absolute fondness written in his expression. “Without a doubt in my mind. You were so beautiful for me,” he says, voice turning soft as he tucks a loose strand of Loki’s hair behind their ear. “I really like you, Loki. We like you.”

Lobelias in the Meeting Room - 4k (oneshot)

Tags: Threesomes, Polyamory, Light Angst, Fluff and Smut Snippet: Loki follows Steve with their eyes, holding their gaze until Steve comes to a stop near them, leaning against his desk with his arms crossed. They regard Bucky with a soft look before capturing his lips, inhaling through their nose as arousal swells in their stomach.

A Threatening Snakeroot (Hidden in the Crowd) - 7.1k (oneshot)

Tags: Threesomes, Polyamory, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Sex Club Snippet: As Bucky is led down the hallway, taking an immediate right, Loki directs him over to the side of the bar. There’s a square pedestal off to the side, which was added the same day Bucky received his pillow. A sign on the left of it read, ‘Pet on Display,’ while on the right it said, ‘ Display Only - Do Not Touch.’ It was a nice little spot to watch people come and go, and was close enough to the bar that Val could help keep an eye out for him if Loki and Steve weren't nearby.

Succulent Strawberries, Dangling from the Branches - 1.6k (oneshot)

Tags: Threesomes, Polyamory, Fluff and Smut, Domestic, Bookstores Snippet: The warmth of Steve’s breath causes a shiver to travel through Bucky’s back. He lets out a whine upon the slender hand urging him back inside, his legs going into autopilot mode as his doms tower over him. The door shuts with an audible click, followed by the window shades rolling down and blocking the evening sunlight.

The First Sprouts of Spring - 1.6k (oneshot-- recently switched to complete since my brain had other ideas back in 2021)

Tags: Threesomes, Polyamory, Fluff and Smut, Cuddling & Snuggling Snippet: As Steve steps onto the porch for a few pieces of wood, Loki strolls over to the closet and takes out some blankets. They return to find Steve rearranging the furniture, pushing the two couches together, creating a square hollow. They promptly hand the stack of blankets to Steve at his instruction, then head back to check up on Bucky.

[toxicanonymity]

BuzzFeed Quiz: Which joelkemon are you?

we have another buzzfeed quiz! courtesy of @missannwinchester and @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog 🥹🥹🥹 Thank you 🫶🫶🫶

Also: which are you most compatible with?

The possible results are: Raider 🖤 Lincoln 🖤 Trouble 🖤 Stepdad 🖤 Thighs 🖤 Night Walks 🖤 Jojo 🖤 Vamp. (See also, Joelkémon cards)

Share your answer on this post in a comment or reblog 🥹 I'm raider.

Text version of quiz choices below the cut (you can dm the choices if buzzfeed is inaccessible for your vision)

Pick a plant: Monstera, palm tree, apple tree, cacti, ranunculus, fake plant, red rose, wildflowers

Pick an activity: walking, going to theater, bbq, sunbathing, driving, arts and crafts, gardening, crying silently

Pick your breakfast: waffles, leftovers, who needs breakfast?, coffee, buttered toast, eggs, cold pizza, watermelon

Pick song lyrics: 

A. "Come and tell me what you're thinking, 'Cause just when the boat is sinking, A little light is blinking, And I will come and rescue you"

B. "I wanna be your slave, I wanna be your master, I wanna make your heartbeat run like rollercoasters, I wanna be your good boy, I wanna be your gangster, 'Cause you can be the beauty and I could be the monster"

C. "Oh, give me something to take the edge off, Something to kick the night off, Something to keep my mind off, This so called life"

D. "If you'd like making love at midnights, In the dunes of the Cape, Then I'm the love that you've looked for: Write to me and escape"

E. "You're the cutest jailbird I ever did see, I sure would be delighted with your company, Come on and do the Jailhouse Rock with me"

F. "The taste of love is sweet, When hearts like ours meet, I fell for you like a child, Oh, but the fire went wild"

G. "I'm tripping on the edge, High as a kite, I'm never coming down, And if you hear me, guess you know how it feels, To be alone"

H. "When you looked over your shoulder, For a minute, I forget that I'm older, I wanna dance with you right now, Oh, and you look as beautiful as ever"

5. You would never: bungee jump, trap a spider under a cup, cause a scene in public, be the first one to say i love you, eat something you absolutely hate, say no to a trip with friends, purposefully disappoint your friend, let others make decisions for you. 

6. Pick an animal: Bear, jellyfish, bat, monkey, panther, racoon, wolf, pug

7. Kindness, loyalty, sense of humor, trustworthiness, beauty, open-mindedness, independence, empathy. 

8. Choose a dress: a. long, red, flowy sleeveless; b. blue floral plunging neckline halter top half with black skirt, c. black, strappy, leg slit. D. shortsleeve red floral minidress, e. red floral tank top dress f. Wedding dress. G. white tshirt dress, h. White floral dress with a sash

[scarydeadlavender]

꧁༺ 𝓘 𝓪𝓶 𝓪 𝓑𝓪𝓻𝓫𝓲𝓮 𝓖𝓲𝓻𝓵 ༻꧂

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Daniel: Oh no, I refuse!

The boy rapidly waved his hands in front of him as a sign of protest, looking at his friends with a sadistic smile holding a pastel pink dress with cute strawberry motifs on it.

Daniel: No, no, no, and again, no!

Ivy: Come on! We didn't slog through revising just to get a good grade on the potion assessment for nothing!

Daniel: I-

Tp cleared her throat and took out a parchment from her crossbody bag.

Tp: I quote, "Daniel Page, on this day, April 4th at 2:00 PM, declared: if you manage to score higher than me in the next quiz, I'll do whatever you want for a day!" Right here, here's the signature!

Tp turned the paper towards Daniel to show him the image proof. He grumbled.

Daniel: I should have revised more... But as for you all! He gave them a cold look.

Daniel: My revenge will be terrible...

Tp: Yeah, yeah, now give it a shot! Tp placed the dress in Daniel's arms and then did a high five with Ivy, who shivered while letting out a small joyous laugh!

Ivy: I forgot something! Without delay, she went off to search for that 'thing' and returned with a pair of white strappy ballerina sandals with a small heel, paired with matching pink socks. She slipped them under the curtain of the dressing room.

Daniel: No way!

Ivy: A deal's a deal, Daniel!

The boy groaned.

Daniel: I'm not stepping out.

Tp: Come on, don't be a spoilsport!

Daniel: Never, I'm staying in here until nightfall-

Ivy: Daniel Page, get out of here!

A sort of growl was heard, and a somewhat magnificent Daniel emerged, wearing a cute pastel pink dress with strawberry motifs, puffy tulle sleeves, a boat neckline, a bow tied around the waist, and Ivy's choice of shoes made it all even cuter. Daniel's fists were clenched, and his gaze was fixed on the ground, his cheeks as pink as a child caught red-handed stealing candy. Snap! Tp had taken a picture with a magical Polaroid that brought the images to life.

Tp and Ivy couldn't hold back their laughter.

Daniel: H-Hey, stop it!

Tp: Ivy, do you think what I'm thinking?

Ivy: Oh, absolutely!

Daniel watched his two friends, displaying a sadistic smile. He backed away in fear when he felt the cabin wall behind him. He knew it would be over then... He swallowed hard before being pulled by his two friends towards a seat in front of a white marble table with a grand golden mirror, several makeup tools laid out – colored nail polishes, mascara, eyeshadow palettes, lipsticks... too many things that gave him a headache.

Tp: So, what are we doing with you, Daniela?

Tp placed her hand on her chin, pondered for a moment, and then smiled. She grabbed a palette of colors and whispered her idea to Ivy.

As for Daniel, he sank into the chair, hoping to disappear from the world. But when he saw a brush with pink powder on it, he flinched.

Tp: Don't worry, everything will be fine!

Daniel: Do you think I'll believe you with that smile?!

Tp: Close your eyes, or I'll put this in your eye!

He wasn't quite sure what was happening, but he obeyed Tp. He just felt a brush on his eyelids, and when he could open his eyes again, he saw Ivy with pink glittery nail polish. He quickly pulled his hand away.

Daniel: Don't even think about it!

Ivy rolled her eyes and grabbed his hand, applying the polish much to his chagrin. ... This went on for 15 minutes, and when he finally saw how they had transformed him, he blushed with embarrassment. His hair was styled in a bun, with strands escaping, pink eyeshadow, pink glittery lip gloss, pink nail polish... he looked at himself in the mirror and saw the bespectacled boy staring. He wore a red checkered shirt with a black t-shirt underneath.

Daniel: Is it normal for that guy to stare at me like that?

Tp and Ivy looked behind him and noticed the boy quickly looking away. Tp leaned towards Daniel with a sly smile.

Tp: Looks like Daniela has admirers.

Tp stifled his laughter while giving him a friendly pat on the arm. Ivy signaled to the mysterious boy, who came over to them.

Daniel: Wh-what are you doing?!

Ivy: A romantic rendezvous.

Daniel: WHAT?!

He tried to escape, but Ivy held him back. The more the guy approached, the more Daniel panicked. This guy arrived in front of them, flashing a smile that could compete with Ken's.

Guy: Hey, ladies, what's up?

Tp: Oh, um, yeah, shopping day!

Guy: I can see that...

His gaze didn't leave Daniel, much to his despair. So, he tried to avoid his gaze, noticing that Tp was gently pushing him toward the guy.

Tp: Excuse her, she's shy. This is Daniela!

Daniel's entire body jolted at that name... she could have been more creative...

Guy: Oh, nice to meet you, doll. The guy draped an arm around Daniel's neck, causing him to shiver from the cold sensation that ran down his back. Daniel forced a smile, sending a glare that could kill to his two friends, who were barely holding back their laughter.

Ivy: Oh, I've got an idea! What if you two went for a walk? We'll meet at 5:00 PM to retrieve Daniela!

Daniel glanced at Tp with pleading eyes. She just shrugged.

Tp: Yeah, why not! Come on, Daniela, it'll be fun!

She gave him a look that said "I'm going to get you for this!"

Guy: Perfect, then! Let's go!

The two headed for the exit, and Daniel hoped against hope that he wouldn't see anyone he knew. He gave his friends a final helpless look and walked away, leaving only a glittery lip gloss mark on Tp's cheek as a farewell...

Oh, how he missed his potion books! This boy named "Maxime" was not interesting at all! And he clearly didn't have all his marbles!

There was just one hour left—just one hour with Maxime in a cafe. Daniel's head rested in his hand as he sighed, knowing he couldn't stay a minute longer. He couldn't take it anymore! All his energy to tolerate Maxime had vanished. So, he came up with a little lie that could save him from the situation.

Daniel: Um... I need to use the restroom.

Ignoring whatever Maxime was saying, he got up and headed towards the restroom, hoping Maxime would look away so he could escape.

Hiding behind a few people, he waited for the perfect moment to make a dash for the door. For some unknown reason, he felt like he was seeing a divine light in front of it.

And when that moment finally arrived, he sprinted as if his life depended on it! Even though he was walking rather quickly, he could feel Maxime following him like a lost puppy. How did Maxime notice? He didn't know, maybe that pink dress made him less inconspicuous among the people dressed in darker colors.

So, when he finally got that opportune moment, he ran like there was no tomorrow! Even though he was walking rather quickly to avoid suspicion, he could feel Maxime trailing behind him like a lost pup. How he noticed, he didn't know. Maybe that pink dress made him stand out among the people dressed in darker tones. The two of them left the café, heading towards the clothing store.

Maxime: Daniela?

Daniel: I'm leaving.

Maxime stopped.

Maxime: Your voice sounds weird...

.

.

.

Daniel sighed before massaging his temples. He turned to Maxime.

Daniel: Listen, Maxime! I'm not Daniela, I'm Daniel, yes, Daniel! I am not a girl!

He raised his collar slightly to show that he didn't have a chest, causing Maxime to blink repeatedly, not understanding the situation.

Maxime: Wait... can you switch genders? Like, are you an alien?

Daniel looked at him, shocked by his stupidity, and slapped his palm to his forehead. He just wanted to get away.

Daniel: Yeah, sure, if you want...

He was too tired, continuing on his way. But then he felt Maxime grabbing his hands, and he shivered at the contact.

Maxime: Wow, Daniela—or Daniel—you're amazing! Please, take me to your planet!

Daniel: Ugh!

Too clingy, too persistent, in his opinion. He shook off Maxime's grip.

Daniel: Stop it!

Maxime: But I love you!!

Daniel: Well... I don't! I already have feelings for someone else!

He thought that would finally make Maxime go away, but no... Instead, Maxime grabbed Daniel's shoulders and kissed him. Shocked, he violently pushed Maxime away, wiping his lips and leaving traces of gloss on his hand. Disgusted, his stomach churned a bit. He hadn't consented to that, which made him even angrier. His blood was boiling, but... if he wanted to get out of this situation, he had to play along.

Maxime: Daniela...

Daniel: It's Daniel... Listen, Maxime, can't you see that our love is impossible? You just broke a rule from my planet! Oh, Maxime, forgive me, but farewell!

He struck a dramatic pose, pretending to cry, and then he started running towards the path back to Hogwarts.

.

.

.

On the seemingly endless path, he hoped not to bump into anyone, as he'd die of embarrassment and might never want to go back to Hogwarts. He looked around frequently, checking if anyone was following him.

?: Hey, beautiful!

He jumped, freezing in place. His hair stood on end as he turned his head towards the sound of the voice, hoping it wasn't Maxime.

But to his great surprise, it was Tp who blinded him with a camera flash. He rubbed his eyes, where small black spots blinked.

Daniel: Tp! You nearly gave me a heart attack!

Tp laughed, then handed Daniel a brown paper bag. Daniel looked at it suspiciously but took it anyway.

Daniel: What is it?

Tp: Relax, Daniela. They're just your clothes. You left them at the store.

Daniel: And whose fault is that?

Daniel shot a cold look at Tp, who laughed, turned, and leaned against a tree to give his friend some privacy to change.

Without further ado, he removed the dress and FINALLY got back into his clothes. He looked at his fingers, where the nail polish sparkled. He sighed, walked over to Tp, and tossed the dress at her. Tp was surprised but ran over to join him, heading towards Hogwarts. Tp seemed a bit sad.

Tp: Aww, Daniela is gone...

Daniel: Oh, shut up...

Rolling his eyes, he tried to remove the makeup while Tp laughed, seeing the colorful mess on Daniel's face.

Daniel: What?

Tp: Nothing, come here!

Daniel was too tired to argue, so he approached Tp, who took a small tissue from his pocket and began wiping his face. Daniel groaned a bit, withdrawing like a scared cat, his face turning red.

Daniel: I swear, next time we make a bet, I'm setting rules.

Tp: Alright, alright, Barbie girl.

Tp held back his laughter, seeing Daniel's adorable panicked expression at the nickname.

Daniel: W-what did you call me?

Tp: Barbie girl—

Daniel: Oh, you!

Tp couldn't help but laugh as Daniel clenched his fists, his cheeks as red as his hair.

Tp: Come on, Barbie, let's go party!

Daniel: Stop that...

Tp: I am a Barbie girl, in a Barbie world, life in plastic, it's fantastic, you can brush my hair—

Daniel: Shut up...

Daniel pinched the bridge of his nose, watching his friend enjoy singing the famous song. And for some reason, he leaned in and planted a kiss on Tp's cheek. That stopped Tp from singing as they blushed, hiding their face in their hands. As for Daniel, he headed towards the castle without a word, leaving just a trace of glittery gloss on Tp's cheek as a goodbye...

...

The next day arrived quickly, and it was no surprise to see Daniel Page with pink nail polish still on his nails. He received curious glances from other students and good-natured teasing from his friends

Frey Twins: hey, Barbie girl?

Daniel: Oh, shut up!

Deep down, he knew that the only person who could call him that was Tp...

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Word number : 2303

L'idée vous est venue après avoir regardé le film Barbie ; c'est vraiment bon, je le recommande !

[stellar-solar-flare]

🍂 leaves: what does your editing process look like? how does your wip typically change as you work on it?

👻 ghost: can you tease some wip ideas that have been haunting you/something you want to write in the future?

💜💜

This ask is in response to October Themed Writeblr Ask Game. I apologize for taking forever to answer, and thank you for sending an ask!

Answers as well as a 1k sneak peek to a werewolf Bucky x Reader, Steve x OFC fic I'm very excited about is under the cut!

🍂 leaves: what does your editing process look like? how does your wip typically change as you work on it?

Depends on the fic, really. I don't outline or do a first draft in the very pure sense of the world - I aim to write pretty finished text since my way of writing is mostly about telling myself a story. My editing usually only involves making sure things make sense and elaborating where I need to, such as adding descriptions in between dialogue to make the scene more vivid, or changing sentence structure so that it flows better.

I usually finish an entire scene or even a short chapter before editing, but especially with longer chapters, I often edit in between writing new text since it's a good way for me to get in the flow and do something creative during the days when I don't feel super creative and bright. Most stuff that I publish goes through four phases: 1) writing, 2) general editing, 3) quick once-over, and finally 4) fixes and polishing once it's back from my beta reader (who is a precious angel with the patience of a saint and who always makes my chapters better).

I would say time-wise, writing takes about 70 percent of the time a chapter takes and the rest is editing, unless I end up doing a huge overhaul to a chapter, which happens pretty rarely.

👻 ghost: can you tease some wip ideas that have been haunting you/something you want to write in the future?

Sure! This one is something that right now has a working title Under a Violent Moon. A slow burn romantasy would be how I'd describe it, with some horror and action elements. It'll be an EXPLICIT fic when out but this sneak peek doesn't involve anything beyond a T rating.

CW: kidnapping, mentioned violence, mentioned mob life

The basic premise is that there exists a werewolf underground society that has a lot of mob elements to it - everyone sort of knows about it but it's not something that anyone would want to associate with unless you're looking to do bad stuff. Reader sees Bucky do something that she (or any outsider) should not see, and he panics and forcefully (but not violently) brings her with her to the magically protected place of residence of the pack and in front of Steve, who is the alpha of the pack.

🌙.

There was no sound – at least one you would’ve been able to hear – but regardless, both Bucky and Steve quieted down in the middle of their argument, as if someone had severed their conversation with a sharp knife. Your gaze followed theirs as they turned their heads towards the entrance of the hall and the short woman that had entered.

Save for Steve in his three-piece suit, all the members of the pack that had gathered in the hall favored a mixture of military and hiking clothing. The woman who was now making her way to you was the other exception to the rule; she was clad in a floor-length, flowing white silk dress that would’ve been suitable for a bride at a relaxed beach wedding. Its boat neckline would’ve left her shoulders and arms bare, but her almost white platinum hair spilled down her upper body in a luxurious cascade. Despite it, you could see the scars on her collarbones and arms, and she had brushed her hair away from the left side of the her neck to wear the bite there like a badge of honor.

You did not know which honor, and yet, she carried herself with pride that would’ve hinted at someone important even if every head in the hall hadn’t gently bowed down as she passed. Her eyes, burning bright yellow that shone its own light, locked onto you, and her lips curved up to a smile you didn’t know how to decipher. There was something deeply unsettling abut her, as if the ethereal beauty was simply a skin she wore to get close enough to her prey. She stood against the practical impression you had gotten of everyone else – she was a seeress from a myth, somehow present here and yet truly a citizen of entirely another world.

She was loaded with jewelry; it sparkled on her hair and neck and wrists and even the dress was belted with more platinum and pearls and colorless and yellow diamonds. On her left ring finger sat a giant round diamond flanked by two crescent moons, all set in platinum. Her gaze left you and found another target, her expression melting into a smile. Again, you turned your head to follow the direction of her eyes.

You had thought that getting kidnapped by a werewolf mob would’ve rendered anything else that happened today as entirely unsurprising, and yet, you were struck with shock as you saw Steve, who held the otherworldly woman’s gaze.

The change on him was almost laughable and yet, it made your throat feel tight. He was looking at her with bright, glowing eyes that shone with love and affection, with the kind of smile on his face that would’ve made you believe that she’d personally reached up into the skies and pushed aside the clouds of eternal night to reveal the full moon for him. You hade never seen such warmth and devotion on anyone’s face, and to see it on the face of a werewolf alpha was such a strange thought that it took you a moment to recognize the emotion lingering in your chest as jealousy. Not for Steve but for the love that she had.

You had hear many tales of werewolves – how they were cruel, brutal creatures, more animals than humans and thus unable to process higher emotions than those that followed directly from their animalistic needs. The unconcealable beacon of affection that shone on Steve’s face was the complete antithesis to those claims. No one in the world would have been able to look at him and consider it anything but love stemming from the depths of one’s very soul.

The woman stopped in front of you, turning so that you were standing face to face. Her wolf-eyes searched yours, and for a moment, you felt fear beyond anything you had yet experienced. Whatever power she carried, so plain to see and yet so hidden, was one thing – every hair on your body stood up in her presence as some long-forgotten instinct attempted to define a threat it had could not classify.

The way Steve had been looking at her was another. It was obvious that if anyone would do as much as look at her the wrong way, he would tear them into pieces with his bare hands. They had not spoken, and yet Steve stepped behind her and wrapped his giant arms around her midriff, engulfing her in an embrace and a measure of protection at the same time. She melted back against him, and in the flickering candlelight of the hall, it was almost impossible to say where one of them ended and the other began.

“What brought you here, little human?” she asked, and while the words could’ve been an insult – especially from someone who seemed like she was in her thirties herself, not much older than you if at all – they were too gentle to be that. “It is not often that any eyes that aren’t of the pack see what lies behind our gates.”

You swallowed past your dry throat. The cadence of her speech, as well as the old-fashioned words, reminded you of how different this world was to the one you’d known. Did that mean they would never let you go? But she didn’t seem to be accusing you of anything; she was waiting for your answer patiently, her pale fingers brushing over Steve’s forearm in a caress. The rings that were there somehow made the giant rock of the wedding band look even more enormous.

“I wasn’t given a choice,” you said carefully, deciding that the truth was the best option here.

She smiled. Her hand smoothed another touch over Steve’s forearm, and then she turned her arm so that she could entwine her fingers with his – as your gaze was drawn there, you saw a simple gold wedding band on Steve’s left hand, too. He made a humming sound against her temple as the rings clinked against each other, and her expression turned even softer.

“Fate rarely gives us a choice,” she said gently to you before turning to Bucky, who was standing frozen next to you. “You have brought a human here. You know our ways; you know our law. You know what follows.”  

🌙.

[eolewyn1010]

Downton Abbey Fashion 34 - wedding gowns in 1920

Time for the actual stars at the wedding events! In Mary’s case, that’s an eye-rolling “fucking finally!”, in Edith’s case… it’s a deep sigh and “she deserved better”. But I personally think Edith made the better deal fashion-wise. Shame that dress went to waste; she should have kept it. Cut it six inches shorter, dye it golden and wear it as an evening gown?

Here’s what I thought might have been a hot take, but turns out that I don’t stand on my own with my opinion: Mary’s first wedding gown was kind of underwhelming. I’ve read somewhere it was “show-stopping”, “stylish”, “very elegant”… and I kind of went “well, it’s nice, I guess.” But @thescarletlibrarian is probably right: The glamor of this doesn’t translate well to camera, as all the lace and beading are so white that they simply get washed out. So the dress looks somewhat more plain than it would be in the making. The lighting in her getting-dressed scene shows that there’s actually a lot of decoration on that fabric, but once she steps out onto the stairs, it is barely visible.

I’m not opposed to the shape itself, but I suspect it might have fallen more elegantly if it weren’t for the drop-waist sash. Tying the dress down there gives it overall more of an apron effect. I’m not sure how I feel about the neckline. I guess it frees her from having to choose a necklace, but I think I wouldn’t cringe at thought of how the fabric must have felt on her throat if she’s just left out these upper two inches of lace and instead used the boat neckline that’s still visible on the under layer. But showing her collarbones is probably scandalous. In a way, this dress fits Mary’s personality well; her dresses are in general a tad more conservative than Edith’s and Rose’s. And Sybil’s pantaloons, since we’re at it.

In all fairness – the veil is a dream. I’m hopelessly biased in favor of long veils, and this one coordinates so well with the trim on her train. It has some rather lovely trim itself; in the last picture, the tiny pearls are visible that must be there all along the at least two yards. And of course, she has the family tiara that @tiaramania can tell you more about and that’s the only piece of jewelry she wears because she obviously expected her dress to do most of the shiny job. It didn’t quite live up to the task, but that tiara is an antique, and it is gorgeous. Maybe it’s for the best it doesn’t have company there.

--------------

Edith also wears the tiara for her wedding, and while admittedly she does combine it with a necklace, it’s a small, understated number with a little drop pearl on it. Her veil is similarly long as Mary’s, but it looks plainer so she can dramatically throw it down the hall without conscience bites, apparently having no trim to speak of, and I think it has a little more structure to it, with the way it hovers a bit above the back of her head. Although that might also be because Edith’s hair has more structure.

Ironically, Edith’s neckline is pretty much exactly what I just imagined would have looked good on Mary’s dress. It’s not deep, but it curves enough to leave her collarbones uncovered. And where Mary opted for beaded lace, Edith goes with “plain” silk satin that’s flowing down her body into this dream of a train. Can we talk about the train? This flower-and-leaves embroidery is gorgeous. And I love the ruching on the hip; it gives her dress a shape that I personally find more flattering than Mary’s apron-with-a-sash style. I semi-recently tried, and mostly failed, to attempt this kind of hip ruching on a dress I made. Perhaps because I didn’t have the embroidery to pull it off.

You know, the entire drapery of the dress and the branches of her back embroidery reaching to her shoulders remind me a little of ancient Greek gowns. Which I realize sounds silly when I just described Mary’s style as more conservative, but it’s the impression I get from this smooth fabric and the asymmetrical design where Mary went for lace and symmetry. Now if only Anthony Strallan would have come to his conclusion a little earlier, maybe this beautiful dress wouldn’t be associated with a great injustice to Edith.

[chicinsilk]

US Vogue November 1, 1952

Sunny Harnett wears a navy wool crepe afternoon dress belted at the hips with a grosgrain ribbon, the boat neckline curved in the back in a round of pleats. By Larry Aldrich, in Orlaine wool. Koret bag.

Sunny Harnett porte une robe d'après-midi en crêpe de laine bleu marine ceinturée aux hanches par un ruban gros-grain, l'encolure bateau courbée dans le dos en une ronde de plis. Par Larry Aldrich, en laine Orlaine. Sac Koret.

Photo Norman Parkinson vogue archive

[herarmoire]

her style

colors

cherry red

chocolate brown

cream

black

navy

charcoal

white

black

pink

metallics

gold

bronze

necklines:

bateau/ boat neck

hemlines:

mini

above knee

maxi - full

hair:

goddess locs

fro

blow out

low bun

extras:

flowers, specifically orchids

dresses > anything else

inspo:

80s futurism

gold bombshell (2000s Beyoncé)

90s model (Naomi Campbell)

old hollywood

60s/70s hair and make up

the orient (patterns, cosmetics, etc.)

jazz

west african culture

to be continued…