#i embroider usually for reference

[stormlit]

trying to learn crochet w/o killing my hands in the process and. lol i am so bad at getting the tension right (this hobby is gonna become my personality as soon as i figure it out)

[crepe-of-wrath]

Self-indulgent Sukuna x Fem Reader

Please no U18 readers; fem reader; Sukuna too soft for canon; "Sukuna despises everyone except Reader" genre of Sukuna x Reader fic; passing mentions of Sukuna Things (domination, collars, oral (m receiving), etc.)

Sukuna doesn't know what's wrong with him. What was he thinking, humoring your stupid little request for your stupid little embroidery kit?

Why did he want to look at you sitting there at the base of his throne, stitching away as though you were a happy and free woman and not the dominated, marked up, imprisoned little pet of the King of Curses? Why did it please him to see that, so long as you were able to make your little designs on some worthless scrap of fabric that Uraume had found for you, you were perfectly happy to submissively and silently curl up at his feet for hours on end, until it amused him to drag you onto his lap so he could play with your tits or your pussy? Why did he like it when you would occasionally pause to stretch your hands? It couldn't be because that was when you would look up at him and give him a gentle smile, like you didn't mind at all that you were completely bare except for tiny panties, collared and leashed for your Master's amusement and pleasure.

No, it couldn't be.

Where was his cruelty? Why wasn't he ripping up the kimono that you had made just for him, that you had offered him with a trembling voice? What was holding him back? Callously destroying the result of countless hours of your work would be just the thing to fully break you!

It couldn't be because wearing your fine silken handiwork while you drop to your knees and begin to worship his cocks with your mouth as you stare at him with adoring eyes makes him feel more of a god than anything he's done in a thousand years.

No, it couldn't be.

[legendariium]

𝕔𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕣’𝕤 𝕖𝕞𝕓𝕣𝕠𝕚𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕪

[chere-indolente]

La Repasseuse

Hello I'm back with a lingerie set this time ! It includes corsets, a corset cover and some drawers. Althought the painting that inspired me this time is older than usual, the cc I ended up making is fit for the 1870s, 1880s, 1890s & 1900s. More pics and download below

This set was mainly inspired by the Edgar Degas's painting : La Repasseuse (The Laundress/Ironer).

————————— Plain Corsets —————————

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In the 19th and 20th corsets were used to achieve the fashionable shape of the times, provide bust support, maintain good posture and distribute the weight of the skirt's and petticoat's yards of fabric. Althought corsets were underwear judging from the paintings I've seen (cf reference pictures below) working women would sometimes take off their bodices when it was getting too hot (ironers, laundresses as well as peasants during harvest). I've kept these plain corsets pretty simple only featuring the boning channels (where the whale bones or steel bones would go) and a bit of cording under the bust, as I've seen on most corsets of that period.

I've made 2 versions :

is meant to be worn on top of clothing (presumably underwear but you do you) and as such are compatible with my skirts and split drawers

is meant to be worn under clothing (petticoat or skirt)

32 swatches : 22 solids & 10 floral patterns

2 versions

————————— Lace Corsets —————————

———————————————————————————

These are the same corset but with some lace at the top, a very common style but probably more expensive than the plainer ones.

These corsets too exist in 2 versions (V1 to wear over clothing and V2 to wear under).

32 swatches : 22 solids & 10 floral patterns

2 versions

——————— Embroidered Corsets ———————

———————————————————————————

These corsets are the same as the lace ones with added embroidery.

This type of embroidery is called flossing it's decorative but also practical : the flossing reduces the corset bones’ movements to improve the comfort of the wearer. These corsets too exist in 2 versions (V1 to wear over clothing and V2 to wear under).

36 swatches : 24 solids & 10 floral patterns

2 versions

—————————   Corset Cover  —————————

———————————————————————————

As the name implies corset cover were worn on top of corsets. Their purposes were to smooth over the corset lines (the equivalent of today's pantylines), to hide the corset's color (for it to not show under a lighter bodice), to absorb sweat so as to protect the bodice and finally especially in the edwardian era to act as padding to achieve the fashionable pigeon breast look.

That being said it seems not everyone wore corset covers from what I've seen.

Like corsets, corset cover too were sometimes used as workwear by women working in hot environnements (ironers, laundresses as well as peasants during harvest).

This corset cover includes 3 styles (pictured below) with different degrees of "laceyness". I tried my best to make it work for both 1880s and Edwardian fashion, in the end I think it's leaning more toward the later.

15 swatches : 3 styles (cf picture above) with 5 swatches of white/off white each

—————————   Split Drawers  —————————

———————————————————————————

For most of the 19th century and even the beginning of the 20th century, women drawers were open : they were composed of 2 legs that would be buttoned or tied together at the waist and that would overlap in the crotch but could be split appart when necessary.

I've made 2 versions of these, since I've seen both :

is tighter under the knee giving that poofy "bloomer" like shape

is straight legged

10 swatches with 5 different white & off white color ways

2 versions

———————————————————————————

Download : dropbox — simfileshare

———————————————————————————

And once again as a bonus some of my main reference pictures :

[fouryearsofshades]

Some Chinese fashion styles

Disclaimer: The following styles and their definitions were observed by me and are not authoritative. I am only familiar with Hanfu and if I made mistakes and picked the wrong photo examples or fraud shops, please let me know. Also, this post focused on women's fashion because 1. I am not into men's fashion so I don't know much about them. 2. The algorithm also knew that so I don't really see them.

汉服/Hànfú

传统服饰/Chuántǒng fúshì （传服/chuán fú）

清汉女/Qīng hàn nǚ

旗装/Qí zhuāng

旗袍/Qípáo

新国风/Xīn guó fēng、新中式/Xīn zhōngshì 汉元素/hàn yuánsù 茶艺服/Cháyì fú or 茶服/chá fú 唐装/Tángzhuāng 中山装/Zhōngshānzhuāng.

汉服/Hànfú

The ethnic clothing of Han Chinese (not the Han Dynasty).

There was a prohibition of Han clothing and hair styles in Qing dynasty, i.e. the 剃发易服/Tìfā yìfú qu Queue Ordinance, so modern hanfu is an on-going revivalist moment.

Modern hanfu are based on archeological evidences with minor twists to suit modern like, such as the type of fabric used and cut.

As a result, there are many types of garments and sub-styles. The figure above shows some examples.

While which style should be included and promoted is a constant debate, but in general, the cutout line is the Qing dynasty (however small accessories such as purses are alright).

传统服饰/Chuántǒng fúshì （传服/chuán fú）

No example because I am not sure who identified with this label.

The Chinese traditional clothing.

This either referred to historical clothing restorers (regardless of ethnicity) or people who promoted that the traditional clothing of Han people should be in the late Ming dynasty style, since "people should get up at where they had fallen".

They might be agreeable with the hanfu movement or not.

清汉女/Qīng hàn nǚ

The clothing of women of Han Chinese in the Qing dynasty.

Since the Queue Ordinance wasn't that strictly enforced on Han women, the Han women clothing in the Qing dynasty had quickly absorbed Manchurian's elements while retaining the characteristic two-piece silhouette. (Manchurian women wore a one-piece robe.)

I believed it appeared around 2019 when the styles of hanfu had moved to fully embroidered surface to a more tone down brocade or weaved patterns.

旗装/Qí zhuāng

The ethnic clothing of Man people (Manchurian).

The women's clothing are generally in round collar opened on the left (youren) with straight sleeves.

The most basic item is a 衬衣/chènyī, which doesn't have vents.

However, the most common item I have seen on the street is a 氅衣/chǎng yī (probably rented), which should be worn on top of 衬衣, since they have side vents.

They usually have no standing-up collar but in some cases a fake collar could be worn.

On top of changyi they could wear a 马褂/mǎguà、坎肩/kǎnjiān、褂裥/guà jiǎn.

旗袍/Qípáo

The Chinese clothing of women originated from the Minguo era, known in English as qipao or cheongsam.

The male equivalent is 长衫/chángshān.

Currently in style is the retro-cut, while uses the traditional flat cut (no shoulder seam) instead of the more body-hugging modern draping style.

There are also many variations and cuts, but the overall silhouette is similar.

新国风/Xīn guó fēng、新中式/xīn zhōngshì

Innovative clothing that was inspired by Chinese traditional aesthetic.

It is an umbrella term.

汉元素/hàn yuánsù refers to clothing inspired by hanfu specifically, while xinguofeng could be inspired by qipao and other ethnic clothing. In addition, hanyuansu is a term more familair to hanfu-ers, so the target audience is slightly different between hanyuansu and xinguofeng.

茶艺服/Cháyì fú or 茶服/chá fú,i.e tea dress, which aimed to convey a zen and rustic aesthetic could also be considered a sub-style. They are often worn by retirees, artists or workers in tea shops, calligraphy shops, Chinese spas, Chinese traditional medicine clinics etc.

The older "Chinese style" generally refers to 唐装/Tángzhuāng and 中山装/Zhōngshānzhuāng.

Tangzhuang (Tang Suit) was a men suit characterized with a mandarin collar with a row of 盘扣/pán kòu frogs in the middle. There are two pockets at the bottom front of the suit. It was a well-known looked worldwide due to the 2001 APEC summit. However, other clothes resembled a 马褂/mǎguà could also be called a tangzhuang.

Zhongshanzhuang was designed and named after Sun Yat-sen but was often known in English as the Mao Suit. Mao Suit was characterised with a 关门领/Guānmén lǐng（“closed-door collar", but also known as Mao collar in English) with a row of round buttons. There are four pockets at the front of the suit.

中华lolita/Zhōnghuá lolita

A sub-style of the lolita fashion inspired by cheongsam/qipao, hanfu or other Chinese artistic elements.

The same item could appeared in different styles, but with different cut and accessories. The following examples showed a mamianqun used in different styles.

THE END

[skygoldart]

Cod Grian Cosplay Build!

The fish man himself, season 10 Grian!

Reference Sketch

Some notes:

I always end up changing somethings from the reference when making the actual outfit, although I stayed pretty close it it this time.

I initially drew him with a handlebar mustache and goatee to mimic the whiskers of a fish, however I switched to a fluffier mustache beard to match the guy from Frozen.

I also opted for my turtleneck shirt over the red sweater+collar to go for more of a fisherman vibe

Since Grian is usually drawn with parrot wings, I wanted to call back to that with red yellow and blue feathers on the bobbers.

The tail and fins

I wanted to lean into the “fish”er man design and gave him fish fins and a tail.

It’s design is based on a cod fish with striped fins based on the feathers of an osprey

To make it, I drew the tail pattern on a large piece of paper, cut it out, cut each section out of the respective fabric times two, sewed the two sides together, and lastly filled it with a ton stuffing.

The tail is heavy, but it’s fun to wack people with it.

The fins for the arms and beanie are made in a similar way, each hand sewn onto the beanie/bracers once stuffed.

The Overalls

I had originally planned for him to be wearing waders, but wanted to make the outfit more wearable for everyday wear without overheating. So I opted for some brown corduroy overalls instead.

To add a “wet” look to each pant leg, I briefly dipped each one into some black fabric dye before rinsing and drying.

The green pixels on his skin look like they could be kelp or patches so I decided to go with the latter and dug through my scrap fabric to find these green pieces.

I embroidered the edge of each piece with a unique stitch and placed them randomly on each leg.

The snails!

Of course we can’t forget about the snails

There are three snails for this project with two more eventually on the way (a plush pink snail, and a plush brown snail).

I made the clay blue snail first with polymer and attached tie tacks to the underside so I can use it like a pin and stick it anywhere on my clothes.

Same goes for the pink worm snail which is also made of clay.

The blue plush snail is based on a pattern from Etsy by willowynn with some slight modifications, mainly to the eyes/feelers, and doubling the size.

Facial hair

This was one of the parts I was the most excited about for this cosplay and the only part I didn’t do myself. I commissioned @basic-amoeba to make a custom ventilated beard, styled and everything. This part turned out so good!

Some final notes for this project

This cosplay took from Feb 20 to March 15th to complete since I was so determined to finish it before Grian changed his skin. Haha look at me now. He still hasn’t changed it.

Not pictured (cause why can I only add 10 photos 😭) is the mending book with a fish hook I made using scrap faux leather, cardboard, and some cut printer paper. I painted in galactic the word mending and sprayed the whole thing in my “enchanting” spray paint (a blue to purple iridescent glitter spray paint)

A small fun backstory to the fishing rod:

My grandpa is an experienced fisherman and has dozens of fishing poles. When I talked about this project with him, he brought me out to his workshop and pulled down the dustiest fishing rod there. He told me he had fished this fishing rod from a lake one day with the line and bait still attached. Can’t get anymore accurate to Minecraft fishing than that lol.

Obligatory cosplay photo:

[my-name-is-apollo]

So, Apollo and jewellery!!

I want to start off by saying that Apollo (or any male god, really) wearing jewellery is not a common occurrence in the ancient greco-roman art forms. So there's not a lot you can get, but I've put together whatever I've found so far.

On the vase paintings, you'll find body chains across his chest and there's bracelets too:

^ He also has a leg bracelet in this one

In this painting, along with a body chain and a bracelet, there's a thigh band and a finger ring as well.

Then we have waist belts. I did entertain the possibility of this being an embroidered belt. However in the first image, the belt is gilded with gold, so imo it's meant to be a belt with gilded gold, if not made entirely of gold.

In this Etruscan painting representing Apollo going to/coming back from Hyperborea on a swan, he's wearing necklaces.

Apollo wearing a necklace and an arm band seems to be a fairly common sight in the Etruscan art (so Aplu, technically ig), as seen in these two statuettes:

and some Etruscan mirror arts:

Now moving onto the diadems! A diadem referred to something you could tie your hair with - it could be a ribbon, a wreath of fresh leaves, or a jewelled wreath/head piece - it's the last one that I'm counting as jewellery. Diadems like the one Apollo is wearing below were usually worn by noblewomen.

You can also find depictions of Apollo with a jewelled wreath on his head. They resemble a laurel wreath, but they're made of gold, and have gems embedded. Here's a statue for example:

There are also Roman frescos and mosaics that show you what it actually looks like in color.

And here, you can see not just a gold diadem, but also bracelets on both his hands as well as anklets on his legs:

And there's what seems to be earrings as well? But honestly I'm not that sure, it could just be a damage on the fresco (even if that's the case, we can still appreciate the winged eyeliner amirite)

There's also this fresco of Apollo judging a beauty contest between Venus and Hesperus. Here he is not wearing a gold wreath, but there is a gold band upon his head:

And unlike other pieces of jewellery, you'll find literary references as well for Apollo's diadem:

"When Apollo was born, Zeus equipped him with golden headband and lyre and gave him also a chariot of swans to drive" – Alcaeus, Hymn to Apollo (trans. David A. Campbell)

"Apollo puts his hair in order by shaping his flowing locks with soft foliage and braiding it with a golden diadem." – Virgil, Aeneid 4 (trans. Ingo Gildenhard)

"...he fastens bay about his lyre and the woven brilliance of his coronet, and ungirds his breast of the pictured girdle..." – Statius, Thebaid 6 (trans. J. H. Mozley)

"But you will say, Phoibos has a goldgleaming diadem." – Nonnus, Dionysiaca 4 (trans. William Henry Denham Rouse)

[Inscription]: "Apollo the mighty, Lord incomparable of the Diadem, who hath set up statues of the Gods in this kingdom" – Ammianus Marcellinus, History 17 (trans. John Carew Rolfe)

[Inscription]: "Mighty Apollo, seated upon truth, Lord of the Diadem, who hath gloriously honoured Egypt as his peculiar possession" – Ammianus Marcellinus, History 17 (trans. John Carew Rolfe)

And that's pretty much everything I've come across so far. I was a bit surprised at the lack of literary references for the effeminate gods. Not just Apollo, even Dionysus' effeminacy is described by his fair face and long hair and perfumed garments, and there are no mentions of jewellery afaik. But of course, just like with Apollo, you can find jewellery on Dionysus in the visual arts.

[niteshade925]

April 13, Xi'an, China, Shaanxi Archaeology Museum/陕西考古博物馆 (Part 5 - Tang dynasty, Song dynasty, and later):

Happy Mid-Autumn to everyone!

First up is again an undisputed star of the museum, the gold crown of Li Zhui/李倕. Li Zhui was the 5th generation descendant of Li Yuan/李渊, aka Emperor Gaozong of Tang, the first emperor of Tang dynasty (618 - 907 AD). It's speculated that this crown was what the Tang-era term "轻金冠" (lit. "light gold crown") was referring to. The crown itself wasn't just gold, however, it also had parts of silver, copper, and iron, decorated with pearls, mother of pearl, agate, turquoise, rubies, amber, ivory, and glass.

And it wasn't just a crown either. There were other pieces that were part of her outfit:

Various Tang-era gold and silver thread embroidery pieces found in the crypt of Famen Temple/法门寺, the plaque is visible in many of these so I won't be naming them all. There's a saying among Chinese archaeologists: "dry things last a thousand years, wet things last ten-thousand years, half-wet half-dry things last half a year" ("干千年，湿万年，不干不湿就半年"). This refers to the conditions the artifacts/remains were in over time, stable conditions usually preserve artifacts and remains better than changing conditions. Fabric-based artifacts are notoriously hard to preserve, especially in Xi'an's "half-wet half-dry" climate, so these are a rare sight:

Note that the bird and flower design on the right is actually not an embroidery, but designs woven straight into the fabric:

The gold threads used in these embroideries were made by wrapping long strips of gold foil around thread through the turning of these hook-shaped tools.

The gold threads produced from the above process were mainly used in two ways, either woven into the fabric (top), or embroidered onto fabric (bottom). The kind of embroidery here is called cujinxiu/蹙金绣, which uses gold threads and a technique that is similar to couching

Models of the microscopic structure of different types of silk fabric found in Famen Temple. In common usage today, the term sha/纱 often refers to light, almost see-through polyester fabrics, but in the past this term refers exclusively to a type of light silk fabric. However, the other ones listed here (ling/绫, luo/罗, juan/绢, jin/锦) almost always refer to silk fabrics.

Different types of motifs/patterns found on artifacts throughout time. Left is the evolution of juancaowen/卷草纹 ("curled plant motif") from Tang dynasty to Jin dynasty (1115 - 1234). Right is the evolution of lianhuawen/莲花纹 ("lotus flower motif") from Northern Song dynasty (960 - 1127) to Yuan dynasty (1206 - 1368).

Left: evolution of juhuawen/菊花纹 ("chrysanthemum flower motif") from Tang dynasty to Yuan dynasty. Right: evolution of mudanwen/牡丹纹 ("moutan peony motif") from Tang dynasty to Yuan dynasty, and the evolution of youyuwen/游鱼纹 ("swimming fish motif") from Northern Song dynasty to Yuan dynasty.

This is another one of my personal favorites, a Ming dynasty (1368 - 1644) bronze vessel with cloisonné enamel (called 掐丝珐琅 or jingtailan/景泰蓝 in Chinese). This type of vessel is called a gui/簋.

Song-era green-glazed porcelain from Yaozhou Kiln Site (耀州窑), so it's called yaoci/耀瓷 for short. This particular style is made by carving designs onto the piece before glazing and firing. I have attempted something similar when I took that wheelthrowing class years ago, but I failed lol

A Northern Song-era stone dui/敦 from the tomb of Lü Dalin/吕大临. The calligraphy here is in kaishu/楷书 script.

Also from the tomb of Lü Dalin, the left is a wine flagon with a dedicated holder used to warm the entire vessel along with the wine inside. The right is a incense burner with a swastika on top. Note that swastikas are very common in Chinese Buddhism, and is taken to mean "myriad" or "infinity" (the swastika is pronounced wan/萬, which literally means "ten-thousand", the figurative way of saying "infinity" in Chinese).

The process of making tea in Song dynasty, called diancha/点茶, which generally involves these steps: grinding the tea into a powder, sifting the tea powder, putting tea powder into a tea cup, pouring in hot water, and whisking the tea with a chaxian/茶筅 to create a light foam before drinking. In Song dynasty, the literati would hold contests among themselves to see who could make the perfect tea using the diancha method. This complex and time/effort consuming method was gradually phased out within China by the time of Ming dynasty, but deeply influenced Japanese tea making methods.

Left: a small porcelain piece depicting a mother lion and cub. The Chinese depiction of lions, called shi/狮, largely comes from a combination of the mythological suanni/狻猊, and the rare real lions that were given to China as gifts in the past. Right: a pottery dragon from Yuan dynasty, if I remembered correctly.

Also the previous part on Han dynasty (202 BC - 220 AD) artifacts was getting way too long, so I put these two pictures here at the end. In ancient China, many round coins had a square hole in the middle, and these holes were used to string the coins up for easier storage and counting. Such strings of coins are called minqian/缗钱, and this is why the quantifier for coins in ancient China is usually chuan/串, guan/贯, or diao/吊. In usage, chuan is not a strict quantifier, but 1 guan or diao = 1000 coins.

A modern recreation of a Han-era painted lacquer box, this red pattern on black background look is very characteristic of Han-era painted lacquerware:

Painted pottery statue of a Buddhist deva:

The painted wall murals of a Yuan dynasty tomb, viewed from below:

And this concludes the posts for Shaanxi Archaeology Museum! The next museum (also the last one) will be Shaanxi History Museum, specifically the new Qin-Han dynasties museum.

[cheesycatz]

The Making of: Life-Size Malworm Plush

(Wormton AU)

STATS

16 ft 3 in (495 cm) long

Total time: 150 hours

Material Cost: $124

Theoretical minimum cost (based on seamstress wage): $2,524

(Progress photos and commentary below)

I'll be referring to my life-size wormton plush as "malworm" for convenience sake.

Unlike my Spamton NEO, Caine, and Fake Peppino plushies, I didn't spend a lot of time on concept art. Since I planned to make the malworm plush as close as possible to its 2D design, I didn't have to add much stylization, other than simplifying some details (no way in hell was I going to make 104 separate embroidered stitches for the segments of his toes, sorry). I mainly used the planning stage to calculate how wide the body pieces needed to be, plotting it out in 1/4 in : 3 in scale and using circumference formula to find the values I needed. I planned to make it around 10 feet long, the length of a young adult malworm. A lot of this project was improv, but, I mean, it wasn't my first or second or third time making a spamton centipede.

The head was quite a complicated shape, so I carved a tiny model out of craft foam, covered one half of it in masking tape, then cut the masking tape mask (hah) into flat pieces. I then traced the pieces onto graph paper and manually scaled them up by using the fact that I wanted the nose to be 1 ft long as reference. The rest of the pattern pieces were very simple, as wormton's teeth, body, legs, etc were very easy to translate into 2D shapes. I used old school notes as paper for the body, as I needed a lot of it. It was entertaining cutting exerpts of Moby Dick and English Renaissance biographies into body parts. I ended up making the body significantly longer; I had to spend $100 dollars on fur anyways, so why not make a maximum size one?

Making the pattern pieces took around 8 hours. While waiting for the fur to ship, I started cutting out the teeth, legs, and eyes. By the time the fur arrived, I had already sewn 36 worm teeth. I did an 11hr all-nighter to cut all the fur in one sitting the day it arrived. After a long vacuuming session and an uptake in the amount of polyester fiber in my lungs, I finished cutting the pieces, taking about 18 hours and 40 minutes.

As usual, the head was the first thing I worked on. It was...kind of wonky once I flipped it inside out. I trimmed some of the fur so that I could actually see what was happening. The main issues were the lack of any forehead, the nose being way too wide, and the cheeks being too flat. I did some ladder stitching as well as modifying the thing from the inside, and eventually made the head look much better. The cheeks still don't stick out that much still, but I'm happy with how the head looks now. I think it conquered the sopping wet owl resemblance. I inserted wire into the nose and jaws to help them keep their shape.

When I started this project, I wasn't sure whether to make it based off of Wormton or just a copyright-free malworm; I decided to do both. I went with red for the non-Spamton version, as I think it really fits the cartoony fly/mothman-style cryptid look malworms are supposed to have.

I sewed a square pouch into the throat and put in all those teeth. I used hot glue to wrap blue squares around a wire for the proboscis, because I think I would've gone bonkers cuckoo bananas if I had to hand sew that entire thing. The throat pouch holds the proboscis when it's not extended, as well as anything else I wanted to shove in there. I never measured it, but it's around 4-5 ft long. I finally made the Spamton... eye patches(?) and a pair of eyelids, though I didn't end up using them in the photo shoot. I also made a new pair of nostrils, as the old ones kind of got swallowed up from all the plastic surgery I was giving him

Now that the head was finished, I got to work on the body. I sewed the white belly and segments of the body together. I left most of the tail open, as the fur was too thick for me to flip it out at a certain point. I worked on the legs, next. After living out my cosplay dreams by putting the claws on my fingers like bugles chips, I grouped the claws together and sewed most of each leg and foot together, leaving me with many pairs of charred drumsticks (did not taste good)

I attached an extra long wire structure into each set of claws, then threaded the wire through each respective leg and stuffed them. I ladder stitched the claws to each foot, then stuffed each with some plastic beans in order to give the feet weight. I then finished sewing each foot shut. I now had a pile of disembodied limbs and one very long scarf.

I wound many long pieces of wire together to create an armature for the body. While the plush's body is way too heavy to be properly posable, the wire does still give some structure. I wrapped the extra long ends of the legs' wires to the metal spine, using the body's leg holes for reference. I then pulled the body up the metal armature like a sock.

I pulled the legs through their respective holes and stuffed the body. It was the first time the malworm was huggable! It's sort of like an oversized body pillow, in a way. I had to ladder-stich all the limbs, the head, and the rest of the tail, as it would've been completely impossible to flip inside out. It was quite difficult to do on furry fabric, and my thread frequently broke from the force I had to pull with to keep the stitches tight. Eventually, I got everything attached to some degree.

The last details I worked on were the mane, tail tufts, and scopula pads. The mane and tail tufts were ladder stitched onto the body, but I decided to use glue to attach the pads to the feet. I think the extra blue details make his proboscis fit much better, and who doesn't love spider paw pads? I also glued some velcro to the eye patches so that they stay attached better. They slide under the black eye rings.

My malworm was finally finished! I tried to put a lot of effort into the photo shoot so that people who don't know about the AU can enjoy it. I wanted to make it seem like some weird entity whose only goal is obtaining more Spamton brainrot. Hence it making Spamton on Mario Kart DS under the bed, obsessing over the Spamton Plush, inspecting the Spamton Shrine, and just generally harassing the photographer (me, I guess?). I wanted to capture the silliness, creepiness, and lack of respect for personal space that Spamton is known for. I thought about giving him a bag of doritos under the bed like that one image of the isopods eating them, but went with the DS instead. I thought it would be funny to see this thing playing Super Mario 64 DS (or Super Spamton 64) and here the "buh bye!" sound effect when it closes the DSi XL.

That's all from me, for now. I have other Wormton related matter to attend to.

Don't let the parasitic Spamton larvae bite

[hhoneyhams]

I Despise You - Chilchuck/F!Reader

Word Count: ~2.5k

Features: Jealous Chilchuck, Fighter class Reader, size differences, and workplace crushes.

Warnings: Entirely SFW with some slight language :^)

The reader is referred to with she/her pronouns and descriptors, wears a dress in the fic, is a tall-man, and fighter within the party. There are no real specifics for appearance other than that.

Songfic based on "Daft Pretty Boys" by Bad Suns

Author's Note: This is my first time writing fanfiction for others to lay their eyes on in a very, very long time. I've had a blast writing this for the last few days and I'm excited to write more for Chilchuck and Dungeon Meshi!

The dwindling embers of the camp’s fire lit the dungeon with a warm, orange glow. A sense of electric excitement had infected the late-night conversation amongst the party members, some chattering excitedly about their plans for the next few days on the surface and others silently planning their next moves. 

“Laios and Falin are planning on heading up to go take care of some business, but I think I’m ready for some pleasure!” you laugh out, taking the last swig of the drink in your glass. You set it down with an aggressive click, the sound jerking Chilchuck from his reverie beside you. The two of you had grown rather close over your shared drinking habits, often staying up into the wee hours drinking and chatting amongst yourselves. 

Chilchuck furrows his brow at you and scowls slightly.

“You can keep that to yourself,” he scoffs, turning back to the meager portion of food he had been chasing around his plate for a while. 

“Wellllll…you of all people should know there’s no greater pleasure than a cold drink and some hot, greasy, fried food,” you relent. Chilchuck’s stomach growls and he groans. “Other pleasures usually follow~”

“Like being chained to the toilet and dealing with your needy, drunk ass all night?” he questions, brushing off the last comment with a sense of disgust. Your nose wrinkles in response.

“Well, hopefully not at the same time!” This causes him to snort out a semblance of a dry laugh. 

“I’m hoping we’ll wind up at different taverns anyway, I need a break from all of you,” the rogue raises his gloved hand to gesture around the room. Just as you start to jokingly pout at him, he points straight at you. “Especially you.”

Despite the two of you growing close after drinking together, he’s become exponentially rude towards you. You find it a bit confusing and heartbreaking at times but understand that it’s not like him to get personal with party members. 

“Jeez, ‘Chuck, tell me how you really feel,”  

—

The party disbanded early that morning. You and Namari pair off together to explore the town as the Toudens take care of their prior engagements. The two of you regard Chilchuck warmly, but don’t bother to invite him along.

Instead, he went into town to a merchant to sell some of the odd treasures he had picked up in his travels in hopes of procuring a bit of extra copper to fund his big night on the surface…

He examined the money he had on him and sighed. It was more than enough for him, but he wanted the extra… ‘for what?’

‘Surely not for…?’ He’d put the thought to rest as soon as it crossed his mind. He stuffs the heavy bag of coins back into his satchel and heads back into the town’s square. 

—

“Oh Namari, this would look perfect on you!” you gush over an embroidered cotton tunic that you found hanging in the window of a storefront. “I think they even do alterations here if you really want it,”

Namari shrugs, brushing off the idea altogether. 

“I’ve got a clean set of casual clothes in my bag so I don’t really need to spend what I’ve got on that. We’ve still got to get a room, eat, and drink tonight,” she reminds you.

“Ah, yeah,” you respond, a little disappointed that you couldn’t go shopping for new clothes with Namari. She’s very practical as you’ve learned. “I still want to try to find something nice for tonight, if that’s okay with you?”

She agrees to go on and book a room while you go inside the store and shop around. As a fighter, your clothes have been torn up quite a bit from the countless dungeon brawls you’ve been in. Your pants are torn at the knee, armor rusted and dented in places, and anything white holds the telltale brown of blood. As your calloused hand snags against the soft sleeve of a light olive green dress, you find just the thing to wear.

You find yourself hoping you both chose the same bar.

—

Namari moans in relief face first into the down-y pillow. Her freshly washed red hair sticks to her forehead as she lifts her head up to turn towards the bathroom door as you walk out in a towel.

“What’s nicer, having a bed or a real bath for once?” you joke, flopping down on the bed situated opposite of hers.

“Both are pretty damn good, honestly,”

“I’ll drink to that,” 

There are the telltale signs of a band warming up downstairs and the unmistakable smell of food that wafts up. She peels herself up from the bed and makes the descent downstairs to scope out the festivities for the night as you take the time to get ready. 

Your body is still riddled with cuts, bruises, and broken skin, all of it superficial. Sometimes you just don’t have the tolerance to sit still and let someone heal you. The dress’s sleeves are long and off of your shoulders, and the skirt is long and flowing. There was nothing flashy about it, but it still made you feel confident and pretty. 

You haven’t felt that way in a long time.

—

It’s no surprise that Chilchuck found his way to the tavern, the promises of music and the inviting smell of the food from outside drew him in nearly immediately. There were loads of people, a clear view of a dance floor, and plenty of patrons lined up along the bar. He was ready for his good time, sauntering in with a cool and calm stride right up to the bar to secure his order for the night. 

His mind wanders to relaxation and the array of activities available to him tonight. With enough drink coursing through him, he’d take a shot at cutting up the dance floor. His eyes bounced between the locals and other adventurers that were passing through, not recognizing most. His eyes lay on a mess of red hair hunched over a table in the corner and he breathes a relieved sigh. 

…didn’t he need a break from his co-workers?

“Oi, Namari!” the half-foot calls out, showing off a full bottle of wine and a food ticket detailing his dinner order. Namari waves him over excitedly and kicks out an empty chair for him. “You’ve got the right idea, tonight!”

“Damn straight! Got a room here and everything,” the redhead gloats, finishing off the last little bit of ale in her own mug. As she smacks it down on the table, she jerks her head to the side to gesture towards the other end of the bar that was in eyesight. “Someone needs to let ‘miss priss’ know that I’m not third wheeling tonight, no matter how drunk this guy gets her!”

Chilchuck raises his eyebrow and glances towards the scene in question, almost expecting an entirely different outcome even though he knew that you and Namari were sharing a room tonight.

You were perched at the bar on a high stool, your new dress draped down to flutter around your crossed legs. Your toe tapped along to the music as you were locked in conversation with a fellow tall-man. The guy was above average in the looks department, giving off a clean-cut vibe that you normally would not go for at all. His copper got you drinks, and drinks got him a conversation.

…NOT companionship.

He sees the way that you smile at this guy and he immediately knows it's disingenuous. In the dungeon, the smile you have as you fight alongside him is cracking and goofy, but definitely not tight-lipped and wry. Anyone who knew you would know this was some act.

Laios would call it akin to a mating ritual. Chilchuck calls it bullshit.

Your nervous glances as the blond touches your arm are darting yet subtle enough to be mistaken as butterflies. Your skin was flushed because of the amount of drinks you’d already had, not because you were flattered by any of the drivel this guy spoke to you.

‘If he calls you ‘beautiful’ one more time, things might get…ugly?’

He couldn’t tell if he wanted to smack you or the pushy guy that’s taking all of your attention. Chilchuck would never participate in the active harm of a party member, his job is obviously to prevent it, but GODS did he want you to get a grip.

Was he…jealous?

“Well, that’s annoying,” he says, not only saying it in reference to you, but to the nagging feeling now bouncing around his thoughts. He didn’t get into the personal lives of his fellow party members, openly detesting the idea of interpersonal relationships taking place in the dungeon.

But, this isn’t the dungeon…and you’re not working…

He takes a loooonnng sip from the bottle. Namari chuckles and claps a hand down on his shoulder as she scoots past him to go get another refill.

“If looks could kill, huh?” she teases.

—

The mask was truly coming off as the night dragged on. Jaunty music played as the bar-goers swung each other around. Every time the music dipped to a slower song, you were clearly not having it.

The ‘it’ being anything else to do with this guy. Dinner came and went, a meal that would have been picked clean by now was left growing cold on the bar as you dizzily weaved through the dancers to get back to your spot. Quickly, you scooped the plate and utensils into your hands and tried to make a break for Namari’s table. A hand skirts along your lower back and you nearly jump out of your skin.

“Need some help, beautiful?” Chilchuck sneers from your side, offering to expertly guide you through the crowd without much incident. You roll your eyes and glance down at the smaller man. 

“If I hear that word one more time, I’ll probably go insane,” you complain, glancing over your shoulder for the creep in question. “You know, he tried to read my pulse to see if I was nervous earlier…”

“He was probably checking to see how easy it would be to skin you alive later,” Chilchuck says dryly, wiggling his fingers in a mockingly menacing way. You groan in response and wipe the sweat from your brow. Your fingers pinch it slightly in frustration as you begin to recount the events of the night.

“Too bad you didn’t want me to spend time with you, I’d much rather have been with you instead of going through all that,” you say, flopping into the chair Namari left behind and kicking your feet up. You end up digging into your food voraciously, the temperature is tepid but not entirely cold and inedible. 

You get a bit of barbecue sauce on your chin, but not enough to where it would fall down onto your dress. 

Were you really that tipsy?

“You realize that was a joke, right?” He looks away from you and out towards the crowd, the tips of his ears turning slightly pink in embarrassment. Your confused look was too much, an innocent shock washing over you as if you thought it was the truth.

“Well, you’ve been real rude to me lately, I figured you ACTUALLY had a problem with me!” you argue between bites, your tone indignant like a child’s. He scoffs and bites back a laugh, actually trying to fuck with you on this one. 

“Yeah, I despise you!”

“I’m getting mixed signals here,”

“You’re a liar, you kick ass all the time in the dungeon and then try to act like a lady the second you step foot out of it. I’ve seen you covered in monster guts, and this is scarier to me,” He gestures to the outfit.

“Shit ‘Chuck, forgive me for wanting to wear something pretty for ya…”

“Well, you’ve already got my attention, you can drop the act now.”

You look at the way his face is completely flushed and it all begins to make sense. You distracted yourself from the half-foot’s hot and cold treatment, you curbed your expectations within your working relationship and completely ignored that even though he wasn’t one to share his feelings…he still had them.

“So, when I said that thing about ‘pleasure…’”

“I didn’t want to wind up watching someone else take you home…or to Namari’s room…or whatever! I wanted to hang out, to drink, and things to just stay the way they were,” he fusses, getting up from his chair and walking towards you. He tenderly grabs your chin and turns your face up towards him. Between him standing in front of you and where you sat at the table, you were nearly eye to eye…

Surely, this wasn’t…!

He takes the cloth napkin and wipes the sauce from your chin. 

“I care a lot about you…and I don’t like seeing you make stupid decisions,” he confesses, still holding your face in his gloved hand. You find yourself having a hard time keeping a straight face. “...What’s that dumbass look on your face for?! I like you, I swear!”

“I’m drunk and this is hilarious,”

“You could say it back!”

“I like you too, ‘Chuck…I swear,” you reply, placing your hand on top of his. Your face cracks into that goofy smile he likes so much and he can’t help but to sigh. 

…If only you weren’t in public.

The crowd at the bar had dwindled down to only a few remaining patrons, some at the bar were still engrossed in conversation with the bartender and others were finishing up their rousing and complicated game of cards. Namari was still nowhere to be found and Chilchuck shrugs as you look around the tavern for her again.

“She’s outside, surely,” he says, pushing his chair in. As you get up, you stumble slightly and grab onto the chair for support. “I’ll help you up. You’re still pretty tipsy, huh?”

“Yeah, but that’s what I get for trying to keep up with you,” you chuckle, reaching out to him for support. His arm supports your lower back, his hand is on your hip as he walks you towards the stairs. You were all legs and curves to him, but he didn’t mind as long as you didn’t fall on top of him…

…without his consent of course. 

The other key to the room was tucked haphazardly into your brassiere. How it hadn’t fallen out onto the dance floor at any point was so beyond you, but you were just happy you weren’t locked out after all.

“I’ve still got to find a place for tonight,” Chilchuck realizes, forgetting about it altogether in all of the excitement.

“Honestly, I could probably hide you under the covers,” you joke, albeit rooted in truth. “I’d really like it if you’d stay though…”

“And incur the wrath of Namari? I like you, but not that much,”

“Fair enough,”

—

The two of you spend the night chatting and sobering up in each other’s arms. You fall asleep first, Chilchuck shortly after. The oil lamp’s glow lights the room dimly, neither of you had made a move to turn it off. 

The door’s lock unlatches and Namari flings it open excitedly, a new longsword glinting proudly in her arms. “--oh you TOTALLY owe me now, but I got a great deal on the perfect longsword for-” 

Her voice trails off as she sees you stir and another body that follows suit…

End Notes: I hope you enjoyed the fic! I've got some ideas for a continuation in the future if folks are interested teehee

I'm still working on becoming a more confident writer, so I'm hoping y'all will stick around for my growth! Minor edits will be made if I find any mistakes and constructive criticism is always appreciated! (Just don’t be an ass about it 👀)

Credits: Dividers by @/cafekitsune, cover art from 'Daydream Hour' scans

🖤 Rules | Ask Box | Masterlist 🖤

[jezabelle9299]

Halloween S.R x Fem!Reader

Overture- You and Spencer are the only ones wearing costumes in the bureau this Halloween, he just got called in for a case, and you're dropping some things off for your roommate (Y/R/N). I want it to be fall so bad, it's 90 degrees where I live and my car does not have A/C. Also reader is a weeping angel from doctor who, which is essentially a creature that while it is being perceived by anyone looks like a statue (Specifically of an angel usually), very freaky, but reader's costume is a little more cutesy. (They're also only in the second iteration of the show, but as far as I'm concerned Spencer and reader are still matching.)

C-Ws- It's all fluff, there's a kiss? Teasing, reader is referred to as a girl, wears makeup, heels, dresses, etc, holding hands, they're like in love almost immediately.

Your roommate forgot the paperwork she needed. Again. This time she called you while you were on your way out the door to your halloween plans, begging you for a stack of files she definitely was not supposed to take home, that were nevertheless on your dining room table. This was far from the first time she’d asked you to bring her something, but it was the first time she said she wouldn’t meet you in the lobby or the coffee shop around the block. She was, in her words, “Chained to her desk”. So she required you to actually check in with security, and bring her files to her desk. The lovely kicker being that you were already in full costume.

She shut down your contesting with the promise of making her amazing pumpkin bread when she got home.So you swallowed your ego as you took one last look in the mirror. Your costume was cute, verging on sexy, but dorky enough to keep it from fully reaching that point. You were a weeping angel from Doctor Who. You were in a short gray dress with a stone pattern, gray tights with accompanying high heels, and gray lace gloves with don’t blink embroidered on them. The look was completed with some small angel wings and makeup that was smokey enough to tow the line between sexy and spooky. 

You walked into the building files in hand, up to the security desk. After picking up your visitor pass, you made your way to the elevators. Safely alone in the silver box, the doors started to close. That is, until someone turns on their side to slide through them. He’s exhausted, after clearly running through the lobby somehow not spilling the coffee in his hand. He was also in costume, giving you huge relief after passing all of the serious suit-clad agents in the lobby.

You smiled at his choice in costume, he was dressed as the 4th doctor, making your costumes kind of match. The doors closed once again and you stood side by side in silence. He was looking at you, almost like he was trying to figure out what you were. You expected this of course, but he clearly watched the show. Until he cleared his throat as you were approaching the 2nd floor. 

“I’m sorry-Hi-sorry I just, I have to ask. Are you… a weeping angel? You smiled at that. He did get it. But you pushed down some of your excitement to make an attempt at a cool headed response.

“I am! I’ll be very disappointed if that was an odd pickup line and not a guess.” His eyes got as big as saucers, and he put his hands out like he was trying to stop a runaway train, still clutching a coffee cup in his right hand, but doing the motion all the same. 

“No!-That’s-It was a guess. It’s a great costume.” 

“Thank you, I like yours too, a doctor dressed as the doctor.” You said that referencing the ID tag hanging from his bag, but he looked.. Skeptical? 

“How did you know I was a doctor?” He was just too cute. He worked at the FBI and couldn’t seem to gather that his name tag was giving him away? You just gave a small giggle and pointed to the plastic. When he looked down confused, he came back up embarrassed. Then the elevator did a final chime as the doors opened to the 5th floor.

“I guess on that note, this is my stop. Will I see you around the building?” He looked hopeful in a way that made you wish the elevator hadn’t stopped just so you could spend a few more minutes with him. That is, until you realized you also needed to get off at this floor. 

“Actually, could you help me? I’m supposed to drop some stuff off for my roommate, but I don’t know where her desk is. It's somewhere on this floor.” 

“Definitely-sure, what’s her name I can-” He was cut off by a man who was the epitome of the phrase ‘Tall, dark, and handsome.’ Not your type, but very classically handsome.

“Well, well, well, pretty boy who did you bring to work?” He reached his hand out to you, but you were busy with some extreme embarrassment, feeling even more out of place than you had in the lobby. The man next to you was’t better, his face reading as exhausted and humiliated. You eventually pulled your mouth shut where it was agape and offered your hand back to him. 

“Im Y/N, I'm actually just dropping some things off for my roommate, Y/R/N. Dr.Reid and I only met in the elevator, just similar tastes in costumes I guess!” Now the embarrassment that was once dawning on your face, dawned on him as he realized his error.

“Apologies for the presumption, I’m Derek Morgan, I work with Spencer.” 

You just couldn’t stop the words that came out next. “No worries, I should be so lucky to accompany Dr.Reid.” Derek raised his eyebrows in a small expression of shock and clapped a now beet red Spencer on the shoulder. 

“Well it was lovely to meet you Y/N, I would love to leave you two to it believe me but we’ve got a case.” You forced yourself to look Spencer in the eye again. 

“It was nice to meet you Derek and you too Dr. Reid.” Derek gave you a smile and a nod as he turned back to head up a small staircase, but Dr. Reid didn’t follow him. 

“You can call me Spencer, Dr. Reid is too formal for someone wearing this silly of a costume.” 

“I happen to like your costume, Spencer. And as much as I’d love to keep talking to you, your boss is staring at us.” you gestured to the dark haired stern man in a suit looking down at you from the door to the conference room. 

“Happy Halloween Spencer, I hope I’ll see you around.” You turned back towards the clusters of desks and started looking for the one your roommate was sitting in. It didn’t take long to find her despite the hustle and bustle still crowding the floor at this late hour. When you spotted her she was fixated on even more paperwork, not noticing you until you approached her desk. 

“Thank you so much, you are my savior. I promise that pumpkin bread is coming your way.” You laughed at the unnecessary seriousness with which she said that. 

“Thank you, and it’s no biggie since I was going out anyway. But I do need to ask you something. Spencer– Dr. Reid, is he single?”

“Wow, you’ve been here 5 minutes and you’ve already found your dork match. I saw him walking with Hotch a second ago, you’re even matching!” She was keeled over and cackling, when you stomped your heeled foot to get her to stop and answer your question. She pretended to wipe tears of laughter from her eyes just to rub salt in the wound. 

“Ok, ok, yes he’s single as far as I know, but I’m not setting you up. If you’d like to do something about your freaky little crush, you can leave a note on his desk.” She pointed to a neatly kept desk, piled high with books on every subject. 

“They have a case, so he’ll probably be out of town for a few days, but he might see it before they leave. No go on, do, and get out of here. I do still have a job to do, and no offense, but you’re kind of making me look ridiculous by association.” She tossed a notepad with a purple pen clipped to it towards you. You grumbled a quick thanks, still annoyed by the dig at your costume. But you jotted down a quick note, hopeful he’d see it sooner rather than later,, because it would be all the more humiliating if he’d forgotten about you before he saw it. 

Spencer, 

I only got to talk to you for a few minutes but I’d like to get to know you more in a place with less costumes and government agents watching over us. Call me if you’d like to go out sometime ♥️ 

(XXX)-XXX-XXXX

You drew a small pair of angel wings as a signature, then left it on his desk on your way back to the elevators. 

When Spencer left the round table, with only 30 minutes before he needed to be on the plane he made a beeline to Y/R/N’s desk approaching cautiously with a small wave. 

“Hi– Sorry to bother you, but I was talking to your roommate earlier, and I was wondering–” She cut him off, putting her hand up to stop him in his tracks. 

“I’ll tell you what I told Y/N. I’m not getting involved in this cute freaky little thing you guys have going on. Check your desk, go on your case, thank me later.” He turned back towards his desk, made it about two steps before turning back. This time with a hopeful look on his face.

“What you told her? Did she– Did she ask about me?” Y/R/N just rolled her eyes and refocused on her paperwork. 

“Goodbye Dr.Reid.” She left no room for argument, so he turned back to his desk, later finding your note neatly placed on top of some files. He read it twice, just to make sure he wasn’t daydreaming. He felt like he was in a high school movie, with the prettiest girl passing him a note in class. He was just getting lost in that train of thought, when he saw the rest of the team heading for the elevator bank, ready for the case. He’d gotten so distracted mooning over your note, he’d run out of time to change. He’d have to make his best attempt to get into his regular clothes in the small airplane bathroom.

It was a fast case, a spree killer in Georgia they were able to catch by sunrise the next day. He’d re-read your note maybe 20 times in less than 12 hours, even though he remembered every word, garnering significantly more teasing from Derek, along with the rest of the team after he caught them up. He could tell they were all happy for him though, despite the teasing. 

When they landed back in Quantico he swiftly deboarded the plane, and headed home paperwork in hand, to be done later. He’d typically do it at his desk, but he wanted to call you with minimal chance for interruption.

It was barely 6am. It was your day off, and your phone was still ringing. Normally you’d check and see if you could ignore it, but you couldn’t even gather the energy to look before answering. Luckily you didn’t drink last night, so you weren’t hungover, but even without that added layer of discomfort you were not in the mood to be up and talking to people. So you grumbled a dreary hello into the line, eyes still closed. 

“Hey– Hi, I’m sorry, I woke you up.I just– we just got back from that case and I wanted to know if you wanted to..go out? Tonight? If you don’t have other plans, that is.” You perked up at the sound of his voice, and fully shot up in your bed when he asked you out. You weren’t tired anymore. 

“I’d love to! I actually have tickets to this  re-showing of the original Frankenstein, if you'd like to go with me?” You could hear a shaky exhale coming from his side of the line. 

“That sounds great! What time should I pick you up?”

“8 o’clock would be perfect.”

“Awesome–I’ll uh, I’ll see you then.” 

“Ok, bye Spencer. Now go get some rest? I’m assuming you haven’t slept yet?” You were sure he could hear the smile in your voice. 

“You would be correct. I’ll do that, and I’ll see you tonight?” You said your goodbyes, hung up, and squealed into your pillows. You were up for good now, but luckily that gave you more time to plan. You wandered to the kitchen to make your roommate some of the expensive coffee you usually saved for special occasions as a bribe for her to break her silence about Spencer. She told you he was a literal genius, a fact that did not help your nervousness. She also told you he was a behavioral analyst, that he didn’t like touch, and that he was from Vegas. That was all she’d tell you before heading out the door a half hour early, while denying any further questions. 

Then you threw on some sweats, removed the last bit of makeup that was clinging on from the night before and headed out the door. You got another coffee, before picking up some of the things you needed around the house, in addition to things that would help you feel ready for your date. You’d gone on a few, but not enough to feel like you knew what to expect, and you were usually focused on making sure the person you were out with didn’t think you were dorky or weird, but that was kind of out the window already. 

You were already supposed to go to lunch with some of your friends, so you chose to ask their advice. They were the only people you could really trust with that sort of thing, but that didn’t stop you from immediately looking up every trashy advice column you could find online, most of which were filled with categorically horrible advice, but it was a great way to kill time. 

Once it was all said and done, you decided to start getting ready 3 hours early, taking a long shower, spending almost a half hour getting your eyeliner to be perfectly even, instead of the sort-of even you usually settled for. You threw on a comfortable skirt, with a form fitting sweater and some matching boots to keep you warm in the cold theater. Ultimately you were glad you got ready early, as it was still 10 till 8 when Spencer was knocking on your door. He looked petrified. In a good way?

“Wow– you look, wow. I’m–uh sorry I’m so early. I was just–really excited for this.” You smiled, and gave yourself a little internal high five that you picked the right outfit. 

“It’s ok, I’m really excited too.” Then you gave yourself a second to really look at him, no costumes this time. His hair was different–good different. He was dressed really nice too, in a polka dot button up, with a purple sweater vest, and a black tie tucked into it crooked. At first he was staring back at you, studying you as you were him, until some insecurity crept onto both of your faces at the close observation. You straightened your posture as much as you could, and asked if he was ready. When he gave a shaky exhale and a resounding yes, he walked you from your apartment door with a hesitant, almost hovering touch on your lower back before arriving at his car, only removing his hand as he opened the door for you. 

He played classical music, and you talked about your days, his case, and your Halloween plans from the previous evening. When you arrived at the theater his hand once again found your lower back, until you got in the concessions line, when he dropped it to brush your wrist before looking to your face. 

“Is this…alright?” He moved closer to clasp your hands together as you smiled up at him. 

“It’s more than ok, although I am kind of surprised.” You maintained your smile so he would know it wasn’t nervousness or reluctance, but confusion painted his face at the perceived contradiction. 

“Y/R/N said that you weren’t a big fan of touch with people you don’t know very well.” 

“She said that?”

Oh. I guess that’s not something someone would say out of the blue. 

“Yeah I sort of–asked about you. Is that too weird?” He blushed at that and a little of your anxiety dissipated. 

“I don’t think it’s weird, I tried to ask her about you but she sent me away so I could find your note. Which was definitely better, by the way.” The idea of him liking your note sent you into the stratosphere. 

“She wouldn’t tell me anything about you either at first, which is why I wrote the note. Which I’m glad you liked, I was worried it was too dorky. But I got her to tell me a little bit about you by bribing her with coffee this morning.” He laughed a little at that, and you realized how easy it was with him. I mean not that you were particularly experienced, but you were certain they weren’t usually this natural. You were pulled from spiraling into that train of thought when you realized there was only one person ahead of you in line, and Spencer spoke. 

“What would you like? I think they have most of the regular snack and candy things, but they might have real food if you’re hungry. I’ve never actually been to this theater before, I didn’t know they did re-showings here.”

“Me neither, I only found out about this because I saw something for it online. But a cherry coke would be great. And if you’re sure you don’t mind my germs we could share some popcorn?” 

“Popcorn sounds great.” And without a second thought he kissed your hands where they were laced together. He was just about to horrifiedly ask you if he took it too far, when you giggled and smiled like there was nowhere else you’d rather be, and no one else you’d rather be with. Truthfully there wasn’t.

You got your concessions from the apathetic teenager behind the counter, and quickly found your seats in the back of the theater. You’d gotten there well before the movie started, so Spencer told you all of the fun facts he could think of. And as shocked as you were that he knew them, he was even more surprised he’d found someone to listen to them. 

After sitting in one spot for so long, you were starting to feel the exhaustion from this morning creep back in. Emboldened by the fact your hands were still clasped, you decided to lay your head against his arm. His button-up was surprisingly soft and you had to fight the urge to fully rest the side of your face on him, in an effort to not get makeup on his mostly-white shirt. He relaxed into your touch immediately, giving you the validation you needed that it was ok. 

When you left the theater, and climbed into his car once again, you talked, but the conversation was decidedly less nervous. You talked about your friends, your job, and your family, and he talked about the coworkers he loved as family. When you arrived back at home he walked you to the door. Had it been anyone else you would have assumed that was a ploy to stay the night, but you felt like you’d known Spencer much longer than you had, and were certain that was not why. So you let him, and when you reached the door, his hand finding yours once again, he pulled you in for the best first kiss. 

His lips were a little bit chapped, you’d seen him biting his inner lip a few times when he got especially bashful, so you kind of expected it, but his hands found your face, and his touch was so reassuring it melted all of your nerves away. When he pulled away, you were both beet red and smiling. 

“Can I see you again tomorrow?” 

“I’d like that, as long as you don’t have to go away for work.” You were on cloud nine, but you didn’t want to get your hopes up for a second date to happen tomorrow, his work schedule was unpredictable, and you wanted to be as prepared for that as possible.

“Dear god, I hope not. Tomorrow already feels far away. I’ll make reservations and I’ll take you to dinner? When would be an alright time to pick you up?” You wouldn’t usually like someone offering to drive you twice in a row, but Spencer didn’t even sound like he was offering, it was just a given. 

“I get off work at 6, so I could be ready at 7?” 

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Goodnight Y/N” And with that he placed another kiss on your hand as you said goodnight, before he let go, and headed back to the parking lot. 

[local-limebug]

DBDA characters + formal desi attire: Charles and Edwin (Pt. 1)

This is not fanart, because I cannot draw, but if any fanartists want to use this as inspo, go ahead. And, before we begin, my fashion sense is not the best, so if any fellow desi people see this and have anything to add, go ahead. These aren't very detailed either tbh, because I am much more well versed in women's desi fashion than men's. Ok, now, let's go.

Charles Rowland

You know I had to start with my favourite desi boy of all time. I'm putting my man in a sherwani because he deserves it. Red's his colour, and it's also the colour associated with weddings in south asian culture, so yes, these pictures are technically bridegroom inspo.

So, I absolutely adore embroidered sherwanis, and I do think Charles would slay one of these beyond imagination. For full outfit references, see below.

Golden and red go together amazingly in desi wear, although they do usually denote wedding wear. But sherwanis fit so wonderfully on the shoulders + Charles' dangly gold earring would go so so well with the outfit !!

Edwin Payne

Yes, I'm imagining the British Raj era white boy in desi attire. Sue me. We all know blue's his colour, so of course I went for the blue sherwanis.

Now, blue and golden are an amazing colour combination and my original choice, because I wanted there to be a common colour between Charles and Edwin, but blue and silver/white was easier to find on Pinterest. You can see golden highlights on a few of these, though, and this next one.

This one is a bit plain but to be quite honest, it has a simple elegance to it that reminded me of Edwin. Its golden highlights mean that it would work best with golden trousers, like Charles' outfits up top.

BUT I also saw this amazing formal shalwar kameez in blue that I do think Edwin would look so so good in, so I have to add it here as a bonus idea.

+ Bonus Payneland

So, desi men's attire also has this thing where the sherwani itself is a muted colour and the man wears a cloth draped around himself in the highlighted colour (IDK what the cloth is called 😭). But I found these similar ones in blue/white and red/golden combo, and yes, it reminded me of Payneland.

LIKE. You can't tell me they wouldn't absolutely slay it. Like these are their wedding outfits to me, like for when they get married to each other.

Anyway, that's the limit for the pictures I can put on this post. Next one up is Crystal and Niko! I am so excited for Niko.

taglist because people seemed to want this and i don't want anyone to miss it. just say the word and i'll tag you for the next part: @queen-of-hobgobblers @mirabel-on-a-bicycle @shipspainfulships @read-write-thrive @justalunaticfangirl @guardianspirits13

[apple-salad]

Rose Ribbon Embroidery "Mini" Projects (for BABY NYFW) Part 1: Kumya JSK

I decided semi-last minute to attend BABY's fashion show at NYFW!

BABY had mentioned in their NYFW brand description that their newest collection would be a return to their origins, as well as presenting archival items.

You have to dress to impress for NYFW, right? So of course, I had to pull out all the stops and wear my Rose Ribbon Embroidery.

Also at the last minute, I decided to make a few extra complementing items...

A matching RRE kumya JSK, and a bonnet.

What follows is more of a sew-along/journal rather than a tutorial or guide, mainly for my own memory's sake. But if you enjoy looking at my process (sometimes sloppy), I'm happy!

Also feel free to take a look at the more romantic process video I edited.

Part 1: Kumya JSK

Part 2: Bonnet

To make a matching kumya JSK, I first had to investigate the original dress a little! This I found actually very fascinating because I had never bothered to take a very careful look at the construction details of this JSK (it was, and still is always a precious item that I am afraid will get dusty or dirty if I look at it wrong...)

I actually even found a spot where it looks like the material was torn and someone roughly repaired it by hand (laugh). I have a feeling this was a factory mistake/fix (either from fabric manufacture or sewing) because it's hidden beneath some lace ruffle and I don't really think it's something that an owner would let happen, but who knows.

So here's a few details of RRE~

Many people don't know that RRE is made of velveteen! And further, there is sometimes a misconception that it came in a "cotton" and "velvet" version. As far as I know, there is only one version made out of cotton velveteen.

So the white can get dirty and attract dust super easily :')

The bodice has a panel of 3 ruffles + upper "hashigo" (ladder) lace part with ribbon. It is also boned (BABY's crap boning with sharp edges and no channels, meh...) but obviously I can skip that for kumya.

The skirt has a trapezoidal embroidered panel, the star of the show, surrounded by 3 tiers of ruffles that extend all the way around the back. The last "tier" is not gathered and has a smaller ruffle all around the skirt.

While thinking about how to construct something similar in kumya-scale, I found it fascinating that the under-material the ruffles are attached to are cotton! Makes sense to reduce bulk, plus you can't tell when the ruffles cover it.

The density of ruffle starts out quite concentrated, and then reduces as the bottom ruffle is reached. The cotton under-material also seems to have less material gathered than the main velveteen ruffle. This also makes sense to not only reduce material usage but also because having a huge amount of gather on the bottom tier can make the skirt look too heavy.

Knowing this, I fussed out some semi-arbitrary ruffle multipliers for each tier (and lining) in my notebook. Very important to keep tabs on how many fabric strips I need and their exact widths!

Also since everything is in kumya-scale the gathering is generally reduced by a lot. Kumya doesn't need much to have a very full skirt, and with such tiny tiers the effect of the gathering can easily look like overkill. The kumya elizabeth OP gathered lace/tiers very lightly:

As reference dimensions for kumya, I have these two kumya dresses which I used lightly (mostly the sugar bouquet one because it's a JSK). I also have the babydoll kumya, but as it was out of commission for a while (on my christmas tree!😅) I didn't use it for checks at all.

The sugar bouquet "bodice" is about 3cm long. I decided to extend it one more cm to 4cm to make it easier for me to calculate for the ruffles and also leave enough space so the ruffles would be visible and not potentially buried.

I use a cotton velvet fabric and a mixture of cluny and torchon lace I have on hand. This velvet has a noticeable twill weave to it and is thinner than the velvet BABY usually uses, but the thinness is perfect for this purpose. I was originally going to just use cotton sateen but remembered I had this!

You can't see the weave from afar so I tolerate it. I wouldn't have wanted to use polyester velvet/suede-like/minky, I think.

Since the material is still a velvet and does have a thickness compared to cotton, I decided to roughly hem any ruffle edges by hand with a simple once-turned whip stitch. it kind of seals the raw edge and hems it at the same time. Note that this is not a great idea for something that would be worn and washed a lot, but this piece in this specific case won't be.

In general, when it comes to mistakes with this piece I mostly ignore them because it's kumya-scale and not only will most people not notice, but as stated above it's also not a piece that will be worn and washed often so quality of construction isn't much of a concern.

Mentally deconstructing and calculating the construction of the ruffle part was a bit of a pain. My lace was wider that I needed so I had to roughly mark out where it should be sewn into the ruffle, not always with great success.

I'm also not great with working at small scale...much respect to doll clothesmakers.

The bodice of the sugar bouquet kumya JSK is made from a front trapezoidal panel with a strip of fabric attached to the sides that extends all the way around the back, and the skirt attached to that. So I cut some slightly angular side panels to attach to my rectangular/square-ish front ruffle panel.

(I threadmarked approximately where I wanted the seam to go because I don't trust myself to attach the side panel in the right area/dimension otherwise with such a wonky panel)

Simple straps made from strips of fabric. I make these slightly thicker than a regular kumya JSK as well because I feel like RRE has thicker straps too (well, the entire construction of the bodice is a bit different, but ignoring that...)

And a facing layer of ordinary cotton is sewn to the front panel.

For the section of lace at the top, I frankenstein together 2 types of lace that I trimmed to look more like the lace used on the original JSK. It seems the original JSK also has this lace sewn through the lining layer, so the stitching is visible from the inside.

I use the thinnest ribbon I can find--some silk ribbon in this case. It actually works really well because silk ribbon is very thin/flimsy and can be tied and threaded in nicely with relative ease.

By the way, if you aren't aware already, a yarn needle works very well for threading ribbon through lace.

Bodice portion finished. This took way longer than I was hoping, an entire night. Hopefully the results are worth it.

Next I fuss out the skirt. At this point I am working out the calculations and investigations already mentioned previously. I did make a few mistakes and had to re-cut a couple tiers!

I use a different lace from the bodice for the tiers because I thought the shape of this one was closer to what was originally used (it's actually the bilateral ladder lace used for the bodice, but instead of cutting off the lace edges and using the thread-through part, it's just cut in half)

After hemming the ruffle, I attach the lace to the velveteen ruffle with a single gathering stitch (too lazy to use 2, and the thick material makes it hard to gather anyway). The under cotton layer is gathered separately and sandwiched between the cotton layer of the previous tier.

Coming along. I think the lace length for these ruffles is a bit off/uneven/less than ideal, but oh well, can't be bothered to fix it...

After the third tier, a non-gathered velveteen tier is attached with gathered lace.

I also prepare the bottom ruffle, but that will be attached to the completed skirt.

Next, the most exciting but also potentially the most taxing part must be done--the embroidery!

I know that the top of the embroidered panel is basically the same width as the bodice ruffle (referencing the original dress), but the width of the bottom is a bit arbitrary (about 3x the width of the top of the trapezoid)

I mark out everything roughly with water soluble marker (the darker patches are where I messed up and used some water to erase, waiting for it to dry...)

The midlines of the panel as well as the 1/3 lines were marked because I 100% do not trust myself to make the embroidery symmetric without doing so. I'm a beginner and not nearly skilled enough in embroidery to freehand...

I carefully investigated the original embroidery and copied the locations of roses and leaves to my mini-panel. Once I have the general shape that I'm happy with, I start embroidering.

I didn't take too many progress photos of the embroidery, but I also don't think you need them. Because the scale was small, this took an entire evening/night which I think is not too long?

For the roses I use a combination of the "pinwheel" rose method and french knots (+ some additional plain stitches where I wanted more volume).

The nice thing about ribbon embroidery, I think, is that the ribbons add so much texture that even if it's a bit messy it looks very impressive anyways. Plus your mind will mentally interpret some random puffy ribbon lines as a flower anyways.

I use regular DMC 6-strand embroidery thread (split in half, so 3 strands used here) for the vines and leaves. Because I also suck at embroidery and have never embroidered a real project/learned real techniques I mostly kept the leaves simple and slightly abstract with 3 branchlike stitches. I think I currently can't fuss with making nice rounded miniature leaves without messing up every second stitch...

Finished.

I spray water to remove the marker marks and let dry.

Attach embroidered panel to ruffles. I should have double checked where the panel was aligning with the ruffles on each side since it's uneven, but whatever.

Gather bottom ruffle and attach to skirt.

I attach the bodice strip to the front bodice panel as well, and sew the straps down.

I basted the front of the bodice to the skirt by hand because I wanted to make sure they were aligned. Because I messed up sewing the ruffle tiers to the embroidered panel and they are somewhat misaligned, I tried to adjust where the top of the skirt was sewn to the bodice to compensate, it didn't work that well but eh, it's alright.

Gather the skirt and sew to the bodice portion. This was very fiddly and I had to redo some parts several times because the lace wasn't getting sewn down properly. It's still not great but I'll fix any egregious parts by hand.

The gathering is also pretty uneven, but I'm ignoring it...

Looks almost done but not yet!

There is a tiny bit more embroidery on the edges of the middle ruffle tier. I marked approximately where I wanted the roses to be and roughly embroidered them (without a hoop because it's too complicated to figure out alignment before construction, although embroidery is always easier with one).

I also add a back ribbon to simulate waist ties, a detail I notice on a few other BABY kumya JSKs. The waist ties on RRE have a slightly rounded/pointed shape to them, so I freehand this shape for the bow "tails" (because I'm getting tired and lazy, I didn't really measure although I did check that the width was approximately the same throughout). The backside of the waist tie is another layer of cotton, which reduces bulk when turning the shape inside out (the backside of the original JSK is also just lining material). I also folded a long strip over itself and basted it down, creating a loose tube shape to use for the bow part.

It's pretty hard to create defined folds in the bow with such thick fabric, but I tried my best...at least it's likely the back will rarely be seen.

I gave the dress a final allover spray with water to hopefully erase any remaining soluble marker. Also, some interior hand finishing needed to be done (mainly tacking down some unruly seams)

And finally, actually finished. The embroidery thankfully turned out decent enough to distract from any weird spots of construction and so on. It looks quite remarkably like the actual dress, so goal achieved I think!

Extra contents:

I make kumya little wrist cuffs because some of the kumya variations (such as babydoll kumya) come with them, and that's really cute.

BBD kumya seems to use a type of lace that's already elasticated, but I don't have that on hand so I just sew two pieces of the same lace used for the bodice ruffles together to make it bilateral and stitch on an additional elastic with a stretch stitch. And add on a little ribbon bow (I only have silk ribbon in this narrow width, but I think a ribbon with more body such as poly satin or cotton satin would work better)

And I also make two of those little applique ribbon thingies (you can buy them cheaply from craft stores and so on, but whatever) and stitch them temporarily to kumya's bows for an extra accent.

I'm lazy so I use the bloomers that came with the hawase kumya set underneath (I'm sure making a similar pair of bloomers wouldn't be too much work but I have no idea if these are patterned with some kind of shaping/rise and I don't want to deal with that)

This is actually yuefii's kumya that I am still hoarding for whatever reason and has its eye and mouth fur already trimmed.

And now Usakumya is ready to see the runway :)

Part 2 (bonnet making) is here.

Thank you for reading! If you ever decide to take up a similar project, I'd love to see it!

[lathalea]

Entangled 4/10

Relationships: Thorin Oakenshield x Dwarf OFC (The Hobbit) Rating: G (subject to change) Warnings: ANGST Summary: Arranged marriages are common among the dwarven nobility. After reclaiming the Lonely Mountain, the Kingdom Under the Mountain needs to be rebuilt. Thorin agrees to marry a lady from the Blue Mountains, securing a mutually beneficial alliance with the Broadbeam Dwarves. Lady Mista is said to be a practical and hard-working dwarf-woman, willing to give him an heir who would secure the line of succession. A decent queen material, his advisors say. If only Thorin could let go of his past… You can find this fic on AO3 (search for lathalea).

A/N: First of all, sorry it took me so long to update this story but your comments and messages kept me going! TRSB and Real Life™️ hit me hard, but I haven't forgotten about this story. In fact, I have a treat for you: an XXL-sized chapter as a thank you for your patience 💙 Special thanks to @legolasbadass and @absentmindeduniverse for your help. You are amazing and you made this chapter so much better than it originally was! 🤩🙏💙 -*-*-*- KHUZDUL: ‘Urdêk - ereborean variant of Lonely Mountain (referring to the Halls within the mountain) Nadad - brother Nan’ith - little/young sister Zabdûna - the Queen Zabdûna undu ‘Urd - Queen Under the Mountain Khagal'abbad - Ered Luin, the Blue Mountains Azsâlul'abad - the Lonely Mountain (both the mountain and the dwarven kingdom known among Elves and Men as Erebor) Tumunzahar - an ancient dwarven city in the Blue Mountains rebuilt by the Broadbeams in this story. The Elves call it “Nogrod”. Gabilgathol - an ancient dwarven city in the Blue Mountains rebuilt by the Firebeards in this story. The Elves call it “Belegost”. Thorinuldûm - Thorin’s Halls, the settlement of the refugees from the Lonely Mountain in the Blue Mountains Iglishmêk - the sign language widely used by all the dwarves -*-*-*-

✨ Chapter list: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4... ✨ Entangled Masterlist

Thorin opened his eyes with a gasp. That cursed dream again. Those eyes…

Several deep breaths helped to banish the haunting afterimages from his mind for good. Deep inside the Mountain — much deeper than the Royal Chambers — the mine bell struck eleven times. One hour before noon. It was later than he expected.

Thorin’s head was pounding, and the bitter aftertaste of rowanberry brandy in his mouth made him yearn for a mug of water. Slowly, he rose, noticing that he was not in his bed but in his armchair, still wearing some of yesterday's clothes. His finely embroidered undershirt and similarly adorned trousers — now crumpled. Parts of his wedding attire. His wedding.

He truly needed a drink.

The only thing he found in his chamber was an empty brandy bottle that lay forgotten on the floor. For a moment, Thorin wanted to ring for a servant, irritated at the fact that he slept so long — and his usual breakfast tray was nowhere to be seen. Had they overslept in the kitchens as well? What could have been so important that… Of course. His wedding.

He grunted. There was not going to be any breakfast tray and no servants. Not until he rang for them, at least. No one would disturb him in the morning after his wedding night. Frowning, Thorin managed to recall that a celebratory dinner was scheduled later that day — not only for the people of ‘Urdêk, but also for the whole royal family and the family of the bride. His wife.

Thorin ran a hand down his face. He was a married Dwarf now. A husband. Years and years ago, in another lifetime, that thought would have made him enormously proud — and happy. And yet, on this very morning, the only thing he felt was that bitter taste in his mouth — and shame; his foolish dreams of youth long forgotten. The weight of a new braid in his hair, the marriage braid, was not a symbol of perfect, eternal love he had foolishly envisioned as a youth. This braid only denoted the contract between the two dwarven houses: the Longbeards and the Broadbeams. 

A memory from the previous day appeared in his mind: pale, small, pale fingers nervously sliding through his hair, braiding a pattern that was unfamiliar to him. The personal pattern of the lady who now occupied the adjacent bedchamber — Lady Mista. The woman he had barely met and knew nothing of. His wife.

He should have felt something about this image, anything — sadness or perhaps the satisfaction of yet another duty he fulfilled as the King; hope or disenchantment. There was nothing — only a gaping hole deep inside him where his feelings should be. He stared with disappointment at the empty brandy bottle in his hand, and placed it on the table beside him with a clank. 

Perhaps everything was as it should be. His was an arranged marriage, after all. The Kingdom Under the Mountain needed an heir to the throne. The future and prosperity of the realm depended on it. It was Thorin’s duty to fulfil, and time was of the essence. As the ancient scriptures stated, only the firstborn son of the firstborn son — of the current king — had the right to the throne of this realm. The Book of Law emphasised that it had to be the direct descendant of Durin — as the line remained unbroken since the beginning of time. If the direct line was to be lost, the next in line was the second son and his progeny. Thorin closed his eyes and Frerin’s kindred face appeared before him — and quickly disappeared. That future perished more than one hundred and forty years ago beneath the East Gate of Khazad-dûm before it even had a chance to come to fruition. As for the other possibilities… they were just as painfully non-existent.

“Is there truly no legal way to name Fili or Kili as my heir apparent, Master Maldur?” Thorin crumpled a piece of parchment in his hand.

“I am afraid not, Sire.” The elderly scholar adjusted the emerald pince-nez on his nose. “They are both the sons of a daughter of Durin.”“Besides, since Fili is married to Lady Fridvi of the Firebeards. According to the treaty between our houses, their firstborn child will rule in the Blue Mountains,” added Balin with an apologetic smile.

“Aye. Even if it’s a daughter,” Thorin said and added, as if to himself, “I have always thought the Firebeards to be more sensible when it came to the laws of succession.”“Yes, well, Your Majesty…” Master Maldur cleared his throat in ill-disguised disapproval, shuffling some parchments in front of him. “The Longbeard laws, however, clearly state that if no male heir is procured by the current king before his 200th birthday, the next Dwarf in line — albeit one who is not a direct descendant of Durin — would be the grandson of your Grandfather’s brother, Grór, the firstborn son of his firstborn son, Nain, your…”

“I do know the lineage of my cousin, Dain Ironfoot, quite well, thank you,” Thorin remarked curtly. Genealogy, lineages, and recounting endless familial connections always made him irritable.

“And hypothetically speaking, if your revered cousin was not there to claim the crown of the Kingdom Under the Mountain, may Mahal give him long life,” Maldur spoke in his hoarse voice that made Thorin think of crumbling stones, “the next in line would be, of course, Lord Balin, the firstborn son of Fundin, the firstborn son of Farin, who, in turn, was the firstborn…”

“Thank you, Master Maldur.” Thorin nodded to him, having heard enough, and then turned to the firstborn son of Fundin. “Balin, how would you feel about becoming the next king?”

“I would rather not. Unless you and Dain plan to drink your way to the Halls of Awaiting together anytime soon?” Balin chuckled, shaking his head. “I have other plans, laddie, and besides, I’m not getting any younger.”

“And yet your wit is as sharp as it was one hundred years ago,” Thorin offered him a half-smile.

“Your Majesty, may I take this opportunity to point out how crucial it is that a direct descendant of Durin sits on the throne of Azsâlul'abad?” The frown on Master Maldur’s forehead deepened. “Additionally, the unfortunate discord between Your Majesty’s Grandfather and his brother, Grór, is vividly remembered by your subjects. Sadly, because of this, Lord Dain is quite an unpopular personage here. Not a favourable position to be in for a prospective ruler. If such an event were to happen, of course.”

“Of course.” Thorin sighed. “Any more ideas, Balin? Lord Bori?”

Balin slowly shook his head.

“May I remind you, Your Majesty, that we have received several offers of alliance through marriage?” said the white-haired chancellor, who — until that very moment — remained silent. Lord Bori always picked the perfect moment to strike.“Very well.” Thorin stood up, signalling that the meeting was adjourned. “It seems that we have run out of heirs. Balin, would you be so kind as to discuss the matter with my sister? I entrust you both with choosing a suitable royal consort for the King Under the Mountain.”

A thud brought him out of his reverie. It came from the adjacent bedchamber. Thorin heard two distinct voices, although he could not quite make out the words. It must have been Lady Mista discussing something with her maid, he suspected. He clearly recognized the soft lilt of his spouse’s voice, so characteristic among the Broadbeams. Perhaps she was readying herself for the day, as he should as well. Thorin was about to ring for his servant when a resonant voice reached his ears despite the thick door between their rooms.

“Why doesn't it surprise me, Mista?!” The voice was definitely feminine. “You had one job…” “Let me explain…” That was Lady Mista speaking. Thorin was able to recognize only one or two words.

“There is nothing to explain!” The first voice returned. “It was your wedding night, for Mahal’s sake! Couldn’t you have made an effort? Just look at yourself! For once in your life…”

“Mother, you don’t understand, I…” Lady Mista’s words trailed off. She sounded tense.

The pounding in Thorin’s head intensified. He glared at the door.

“Have you forgotten how hard your father and your uncle worked to achieve this?! Is that how you repay your family, Mista? By ruining everything? On the very first night?”

Without thinking, Thorin placed his hand on the door handle and pressed. He had heard enough.

“What is the meaning of this?!” he demanded.

In the silence that filled the room, just after he stepped into Lady Mista’s bedchamber, he saw Lady Mista sitting in her bed. Her face was as pale as the bed linen, her eyes wide, and her quilt pulled up to her chin. She looked at him as if she wanted to disappear underneath it. With her hair tousled and her slightly skewed spectacles, she looked more like a defenceless young maid than an adult Dwarf-woman.

Next to her bed stood a corpulent red-haired matron in a fashionable green-and-gold gown, her hair immaculately dressed, her neck and wrists adorned with elegant jewellery, her fisted hands resting against her hips.

“Your Majesty.” The matron executed a customary curtsy, offering him a sweet but artificial smile. “What an honour to see you in my daughter’s bedchamber. I believe…” “Lady Milva.” He gave her a curt nod of recognition and graced her with a cold stare. “You will have to forgive me, madam, but I do not intend to reciprocate. I, for one, cannot understand why you would choose this particular time to visit Her Majesty the Queen.”

“Ah, but Your Majesty would surely understand that I wanted to see to my daughter’s comfort on the very first day of her rule.” Her smile widened.

“Do you wish to imply that I am incapable of such a feat, madam?” Thorin hissed.

“Oh no, Your Majesty, not at all!” The matron attempted a giggle. “On the contrary, I believe it is my daughter who failed to see to your comfort.”

Thorin’s head seemed to be pounding even more than before.

“Mother, please…” He heard Lady Mista’s strained voice behind him.

“Enough, Mista, you should be apologising to His Majesty for disappointing him!” Lady Milva turned to her daughter and Thorin decided that he had heard enough.

“My lady, you are disturbing me and my spouse in our private chambers. Only because you are my wedded wife’s mother, My Lady, I am going to ask you kindly.” Thorin hissed. “Leave now.”

Silence filled the chamber for several heartbeats. Lady Milva’s gaze moved between her daughter and Thorin before she spoke again. 

“Very well, Your Majesty,” she replied stiffly, abandoning her insincere manner. “Mista, I will return later, to prepare you for dinner.”

“Is that what you wish, My Lady?” Thorin turned to Mista.

“I… Thank you, Mother,” Lady Mista’s words were a mere whisper as she clutched the quilt, “but I think I will manage on my own this time.”

Her mother stood there for a moment longer, her brow furrowed, and then she replied, “If that is what you wish.”

She made another curtsy to Thorin, and then, in a swift flurry of her opulent gown, she stormed out of the bedchamber.

“Forgive me, My Lord, have we woken you up?” The bedclothes rustled, making Thorin gaze at Lady Mista — the woman he wed yesterday. As she left the bed, he caught a glimpse of her bare feet, so much smaller than his, and so dainty. Her sleeping gown flowed elegantly down her body, hugging her figure and revealing patches of smooth skin that only a husband was allowed to see. Quickly, he looked away. He did not feel like one.

“I was already awake,” he offered, glancing around the chamber. “Have you broken your fast yet, My Lady?”

“No, My Lord,” she replied. “I’m afraid I lost track of time. I was reading.”

Thorin followed her gaze to the thick tome that lay open on the bed. It looked like something from the Royal Library of Erebor, but he did not recognize the cover.

“I’ll ring for breakfast for you then. You must be famished,” he offered. 

“Thank you, that’s very kind of you,” Lady Mista replied, her words barely audible, like the chirping of a frightened little bird. “Would you… would you like to join me?”

Thorin shook his head decidedly. 

“I am expected elsewhere. The meeting of the Guildmasters is going to be held quite soon,” he was amazed at how easily this half-truth slipped out of his mouth. That meeting was on his general agenda, but no one expected him to join it, not so soon after his wedding.

“Oh, I see,” Lady Mista’s voice wavered, but she continued after a pause. “In that case, allow me, My Lord, to thank you for your… intervention. My Mother can be tempestuous at times, but she means well.”

“Forgive me, My Lady, but her behaviour was out of place,” he said, attempting to ignore the insistent pounding in his head. “You are not only her daughter but — first and foremost — the Queen. No one is allowed to treat you so, no matter the circumstances. No one. Not even her.”

Thorin took a deep breath in order to rein in his temper. He was abrupt, his words far from courteous, but his patience was wearing thin. The last thing he was willing to endure was a lady on the verge of tears, bullied by her own kin. A half-forgotten memory surfaced in his mind: those sobs, that lavish but abhorred wedding dress, and his sister’s words: “You can’t help it, nadad. This is women’s lot in life.” 

This time, unlike that other time, Thorin could help it — and so he did. That was the least he was able to do for this terrified woman. His wife.

He did not find the strength to look into her face once more and see those glossed-over eyes and those trembling lips. Instead, he excused himself under the pretence of procuring breakfast and left her bedchamber.

He found his reward in the form of a full jug of water in the adjacent parlour. Quenching his thirst, he rang for a servant. Katla, Lady Mista’s new maid, arrived soon after. She was one of the maids who worked for their family when they lived in the Blue Mountains. Now, however, Dis decided that Katla was exactly the person Lady Mista would need. The girl was unusually agitated, and as soon as Thorin asked about Lady Milva’s presence in the Queen’s bedchamber, her countenance wavered. 

“Forgive me, m’lord,” she curtseyed, her gaze lowered reverently. “I had no means to stop Her Ladyship, I asked her not to disturb Your Majesties, but she said that she was the Queen’s mother and the Queen would dismiss me right away if Her Ladyship was not allowed to enter, and I thought…”

“Thank you, Katla, I understand,” he said. “You are not going to be dismissed. However, Her Majesty does not need such disturbances. Should someone attempt to storm into Her Majesty’s private chambers without her consent again, do not hesitate to call the guards.”

“Of course, m’lord,” Katla nodded stiffly. “And… Thank you. For not dismissing me.”

“My Mother, the Dowager Queen, always spoke highly of you. Now, I need you to take care of the new Queen in a similar manner. This is her new home, and we need to make her feel like it. Can I rely on you?”

“Always, m’lord.” A hopeful smile appeared on her face. “Does the Queen need anything now, m’lord?”

“She is requesting a hearty breakfast,” he ordered.

“I’ll be right back with her tray! Shall I bring one for you as well, m’lord?”

“No, thank you. I have matters to attend to.”

With these words, Thorin directed his steps to the Royal Baths. Hot water and steam were exactly what he needed at that very moment. A sizable pile of documents waited for him on his desk, but he needed to clear his head first.

***

“Here you are, nadad! I’ve been looking all over for you!” Dis’ voice made him raise his gaze from a parchment.

“Where else should I be?” Thorin tilted his head, observing his sister as she approached his desk. There was only a handful of braids in her modest hairdo — her wavy strands as dark as his own — and she wore a simple day dress. Yet, Dis looked more elegant than many other ladies in their finest gowns. She inherited her noble bearing and facial features from their paternal grandmother, after all.

“Where should you be? Let me see…” she tapped her mouth with her index finger and then asked innocently. “Perhaps with your wife?”

Thorin cursed inwardly. Dis inherited their grandmother’s wit, too.

“If only those trade licences could somehow sign themselves…” he grunted.

“And while you are drowning in parchments, your newly-wed wife is halfway through the second volume of The Golden Age of Azsâlul'abad,” she grunted back.

“The second volume?” Thorin’s eyebrow rose as he recalled the size of that monstrous twelve-volume work. He never managed to make it past the first one.

“Yes. Apparently, Mista finished the first one during lunch. Which she ate alone.” Dis folded her arms on her chest. It had never been a good sign when Grandmother Birgit folded her arms like that.

“I ate my lunch alone as well.” He pointed at a plate with a forgotten piece of dark bread left, half-covered by a couple of documents.

“On the first day of your marriage,” Dis retorted.

“These licences are vital for…”

“Thorin…” His sister rolled her eyes.

“Dis…” He sighed. “You know what I mean.”

“Some things need time,” he heard himself say.

“I know, Thorin,” Dis stepped to him, placing her hand on his forearm. “Of all the people in the world… I know.”

“At least you knew Vili before your wedding,” Thorin put his quill aside.

“Vaguely. While you managed to spend a whole evening with Mista in Tumunzahar.”

“Which apparently happened a long time ago — and of which I remember nothing.” He admitted with a frown and then drummed his fingers on the desk. “Nan’ith, I may have made an utter fool of myself yesterday.”

Dis sat heavily on a chair beside him, “Let me hear it.”

“Lady Mista was convinced that I remembered meeting her at a feast. Apparently, we danced and talked, and she expected me to…” He sighed. “I don’t know. The problem is that instead of playing along with it, I told her that I did not remember it at all.”

“Nadad, I have always admired your disarming honesty, but…” Dis paused and then grinned. “Well, it looks like you have figured it out yourself. You are an utter fool.”

When she elbowed him, as if they were smooth-cheeked youths again, Thorin simply had to elbow her back.

“Thank you, dearest sister. I know I could count on you.” He let out a lukewarm chuckle.

“How did she take it? Is that why you are hiding in here?” Thorin shook his head, “Lady Mista did not seem offended. I’d say she was perhaps… surprised? Disappointed?”

“I would be too if my future husband first sent me a letter in which he spoke fondly of our meeting years ago and then admitted to not remembering it at all,” Dis waved her hand in despair.

“A letter?” Thorin’s frown deepened.

“The letter. Don’t tell me you haven’t read it.” A frown appeared on her face as well. “Balin and I spent half a day composing it before it was sent along with the marriage contract.”

“For which I am very thankful. I have no head for this sort of letters, as you know.” “That was precisely why you were supposed to read it before it was sealed, Thorin.” She rolled her eyes.

“I knew I could trust you with its contents. Dis, we were rebuilding the Forges at that time! I barely had time to eat or sleep; that letter was hardly on top of my agenda.” 

His sister let out a long sigh.

“It is not me you should explain yourself to. What happened, happened. Tell me, do you truly not remember anything from that meeting?”

“This was one of many feasts I was obligated to appear at. Amicable relations with our allies, and all that,” he offered.

“We were there together, you know.”

“Were we?” Thorin searched his memory. To no avail. All those feasts seemed like a blur in his mind.

“Balin was there, too. And Dwalin, I think.” Dis added. “And Mother. She wore that emerald green gown.”

He tried once more. Still nothing.

“There was lots of food, lots of political scheming… Oh, and there were quite a few mothers flaunting their offspring at me and you. Mostly at you, the Crown Prince,” she snickered.

“You have just described most of the feasts I have attended in the past.” He ran a hand over his face. “Every time I felt like game during hunting season. Did I really spend the whole evening with Lady Mista?”

“Quite a bit of it.” Dis nodded. “You were seated next to a matron who insisted on making you dance with each of her daughters — I think she had two or three of them — and then you did what you usually used to do. You disappeared. When you returned, Mista was with you already, and then you danced. That matron, together with her cronies, was of course appalled, because you never even looked at anyone else. And Mista was not even formally out, she was maybe a few years over half battle-age at that time!”

“It seems that I scandalised the matrons of Tumunzahar and nearly robbed a cradle. What an achievement. And I cannot even remember it.” Thorin smiled wryly, although an image or two flickered before his eyes. A handkerchief with his monogram in a lithe hand. Grey-brown hair adorned with pearls.

“At least no one bothered you afterwards,” she put her hand on his shoulder and looked him in the eyes. “Now, I hope you find a way to make amends with your wife, nadad.”

Thorin gave her a nod, “You and me both. I simply do not have the slightest idea how to talk to her. I feel as if she is afraid of me.”

“We both know that you are not the greatest charmer when it comes to the matters of the heart,” she offered him a smirk. “And neither am I. I can only tell you what Mother told me once. Marriage is like the endless forging of a sword. If you want to make a great blade, you have to keep the fire going, and work the metal every single day. Draw it, shape it, and then keep on tempering it so that it never breaks.”

“She knew her way around the forge,” Thorin admitted fondly. He liked to think that he inherited his bladesmithing skills from their Mother.

“She knew how to deal with Father, too. I took her words to heart, and it worked for me — for us. Vili and me…” Dis cleared her throat. “We had nothing in common — or so I thought at first.” 

A sad smile softened her features, and Thorin covered her hand with his. 

“He was even younger than me,” she continued, “so rowdy and boisterous, and talked only of mountain goat races and throwing knives. Remember how terrified I was when I had to braid his hair?”

“You? Terrified? You were as decorous as Grandma Birgit would,” he said.

“That was because I knew Grandma Birgit would have been appalled if I fainted halfway through the ceremony. You cannot believe how mortified I was before the wedding night!” His sister chuckled.

“You asked me for two pints of the strongest malt beer we had,” Thorin offered lightly. It was good to see her smile.

“I only wanted to take the edge off things!” Dis grinned. “How was I supposed to know you spiked it with Dwalin’s horrible brandy?”

“You weren't. And you and Vili were supposed to drink them together. How should I know he would down them both at once?” He shrugged as if he had not seen it coming.

“I think I was the first bride in the history of Arda who spent her wedding night listening to her new husband’s loud snores.”

“You should talk with Bombur’s Ronja,” he quipped.

“Nadad! I shall not discuss their wedding night with her!” Dis feigned outrage only to burst out in laughter.

“Be glad that you did not hear his snores during the Quest. Every. Single. Night. He even made us think a storm was coming! And once, in the Misties…” It was so easy to fall back on the anecdotes from the past, and Thorin was awarded with another bout of laughter. Since Dis arrived back to the Mountain — their home — for the first time in years, it was easy to make her smile. There was a new spark in her eyes too, one that Thorin saw in countless eyes these days. A glint of hope for their reclaimed homeland they were rebuilding — and for their future. Was the same glint present in Lady Mista’s eyes last night? He could not say.

“Thank you”, Dis startled him, pecking him on his cheek.

“For what?” He met her eyes.

“For many things… like not terrifying your bride too much.”

Thorin swallowed, “What do you mean?”

“You know how you can be sometimes.” Dis patted his hand.

“Are you going to tell me once more that I scare others away with my ‘brooding’, or whatever you call it?” He rose from his chair and looked down at her.

“Not at all! Brooding is not as loud as snoring.” Tilting her head up, she winked at him. “Do you know you sometimes come off as quite intimidating?”

“I have never heard of such a notion,” Thorin let his lip curl up. “Especially from you.”

“What about that agreement you managed to hammer out last week with those stubborn donkeys, the Guildmasters?” Thorin knew better than to offer a reply.

“I heard your voice all the way to the warehouses! And when the Masters left the council chamber, they were meek as lambs, even the fiery Master Karg!”

“I simply reminded them that the world did not revolve around their coin pouches. Loudly.”

“I am glad you made use of it this morning.”

“You heard about what happened,” Of course. His sister had a knack for knowing things that did not happen in her presence.

“A word or two.” “Lady Mista’s mother needed to be put in her place,” Thorin quickly recounted his confrontation with Lady Milva. 

When he finished, Dis pressed her lips in a thin line.

“What a viper,” she huffed. “Now I know why Mista looked so shaken today. But we are in luck. The whole Broadbeam delegation is leaving in a week or so. We will manage.”

“We have managed worse.” He finished the thought, their private saying, one that they used since the vile Smaug ravaged their kingdom. Last time they spoke it happened just before the Quest to reclaim their homeland. Now, both the current circumstances and stakes felt vastly different, and Thorin could not help but wonder — would he manage?

“I must say you did wonders with the Queen’s bedchamber in such a short time.” Thorin admitted in a hasty attempt to change the subject. “It looks quite… comfortable. Especially with that tapestry from Grandmother’s chambers. And to think it survived Smaug almost untouched…”

“Oh, so you did spend some time with Mista after all?” Dis raised an eyebrow, her eyes twinkling. “Were there two pints of malt beer involved or not? Don’t you make that face at me, nadad! This was your wedding night and everyone will jest about it, whether you like it or not!”

Sadly, she was right.

***

Dis’ prophetic words proved true in the evening at the celebratory dinner. It was held in the largest cavern under the Mountain, the Great Hall. It was as tall as several levels of the Dwarven kingdom, making it easy for people to freely join and leave the festivities, catch a glimpse of the royal family or listen to the music while feasting in their local quarters. Thorin remembered that this natural formation in the depths of the Mountain was where all the largest festivities happened when his Grandfather, King Thrór, ruled. He himself did not expect to celebrate his royal wedding in these legendary chambers as well. After all, marriage had not been a part of his plans for the future.

Upon entering the Great Hall, it was difficult not to notice all the lavish adornments he remembered from the day before, countless tables filled anew with various dishes, lanterns and candles that cast their golden glow on the walls, brightening everyone’s faces — and the fact that all the eyes were now set on Thorin and his new royal consort. They were both clad in matching attires made especially for this occasion; every detail, pattern, and jewel on those black, silver, and gold garments was supposed to symbolise the imperishable beauty and opulence of the Kingdom Under the Mountain. Judging by the reactions of his subjects, the newly-wed royal couple made a favourable impression on them. 

Casting a sidelong glance at Lady Mista, Thorin expected to see the joyful or perhaps even triumphant smile of a new queen. Instead, he noticed the strained lines of her face, the paleness of her cheeks, and her bespectacled gaze set somewhere above the heads of the guests. Only the crown over her temples softened the solemn impression somewhat and lent her a regal air. Lady Mista’s palm rested stiffly on his forearm as Thorin led her through the chamber towards the royal table. He could feel how stiff her muscles were, as if she was a wooden doll controlled by an invisible puppeteer.

Thorin made an effort not to look at Lady Mista’s kin, who had already gathered at their side of the royal table. After what he experienced with the members of this family so far, it was not at all difficult to infer what face — or rather, faces — that puppeteer bore. 

That poor, terrified girl. His wife. The new Queen Under the Mountain.

“Our people are curious about you, My Lady,” he whispered just as they walked onto the stone dais where the royal table was placed.

“Oh?” Quickly, she turned towards him, her eyes wide. “About me?”

“They do not know you yet, and many of them are wondering what they can expect of you, their new Zabdûna,” he murmured, leaning slightly closer to her.

“Of… of course I will do my best to care for them,” she lowered her gaze and a blush darkened her cheeks. Then she added, “There is no Kingdom without its people.”

The last time Thorin heard those words, he was barely a youth, and his days were filled with endless studies and training. One of his Grandfather’s sayings — words of Dagur Sture, an ancient philosopher from Khazad-dûm — spoken in the trembling voice of a Broadbeam lady from the distant Khagal'abbad, the Blue Mountains. 

“Indeed,” he said, shaking off the surprise as they both turned towards the guests, an endless sea of faces before them . “Pray, show it to them, My Lady.”

“But how?” Lady Mista blinked, adjusting her spectacles on her nose. “I do not know what to do…”

“Simply greeting them will be enough,” Thorin attempted to say these words with an encouraging smile. “Acknowledge your new subjects.”

Lady Mista nodded slightly and swallowed, lifting her gaze upon the crowd. He felt her right hand tighten on his forearm, but then her left hand rose into the air, and she waved to the gathered crowd. An avalanche of cheers went through the cavern; some of the guests responded to her greeting in turn, their faces brightening.

Thorin chose this moment to greet the gathered Dwarves in the same fashion, enhancing their jubilation even further. All it took was a wave. A simple trick his Grandfather taught him a lifetime ago, but one that never failed.

When he glanced at Lady Mista’s face again, there was a new glint in her eyes and a timid smile on her lips as she took in the enthusiastic response to her gesture.

“They like you already, My Lady,” he whispered, nodding to her in approval and seeing her features finally soften when her lips curled up slightly. A welcome change, he thought. People needed to see their rulers glad, especially on such an occasion. Appearances mattered more than one’s true feelings; he had learned that bitter lesson well.

After the customary welcoming speech — Thorin somehow managed to keep it short — he led Lady Mista to their chairs at the centre of the table, and then the feast began. Soon, he found himself in a lively conversation with Glóin, Dwalin and Lord Taran, Lady Mista’s uncle, discussing the strategy applied in the siege of an Orc stronghold that happened during the Great War. Various pieces of golden tableware turned into numerous units of dwarven troops, a nearby platter with fruit acted as a mountain range, the octagonal brass salt cellar became the stronghold, and leftover pheasant bones served as Orcs.

“What a battle it was! We hadn’t slept for three days in a row!” Glóin announced as the culinary re-enactment of the battle came to an end. “When we were done with the Orc scum, Thorin looked every bit as tired as he looks now after one night with his bride!”

Thorin grunted.

“Aye, he does, but can ye imagine his state after three nights of storming her stronghold?” Dwalin roared with laughter.

Thorin glowered at his friend, who, in response, laughed even harder.

“With such a meek lass like our Mista, he doesn’t have much storming to do!” Lord Taran bellowed, the tattoos on his cheeks stretching in a wide grin.

Thorin clenched his fist. 

Dis threw him a meaningful glance from across the table. We will manage. Mahal, give him strength. Casting a fleeting look at Lady Mista, Thorin saw that she was deeply immersed in a conversation with Balin, who at that very moment patted her on her hand.

“May Your Majesty strike a gold vein quickly so we have a new reason to celebrate soon, a naming ceremony!” Lord Tair, the new Queen’s father, raised his goblet, meeting Thorin’s gaze. “May Mahal bless this union with many children!”

Other cups shot into the air, and the toast echoed across the hall, countless eyes set on the royal couple. Thorin gritted his teeth. This was not a purely well-meant wish, not in Tair’s mouth. The Broadbeam lord, who negotiated the marriage contract himself, alluded to its crucial clause: children from this union meant prosperity for both of their houses. On the other hand, no offspring by Thorin’s 200th birthday meant the dissolution of the marriage, the end of the vastly profitable trade agreements for the Broadbeams, and the end of the direct line of Durin for the Longbeards — and Thorin. The stakes were high for both houses.

Decidedly, Thorin grasped his own goblet and returned the gesture. A quick glance to his left told him that Lady Mista followed his lead, her fingers stiffly holding her goblet’s stem. He felt her eyes on him, but he found himself unable to reciprocate her gaze.

Another toast came after the first. This time, it was Dis wishing the newly-wed couple a long and happy marriage. A couple of toasts full of platitudes followed, and when everyone in the Great Hall drank their fill, conversations returned. Thorin’s sister was talking with Lady Mista now; he thought he heard them speak of a library when a sonorous voice reached his ears.

“Such a match happens once in a lifetime, Lord Balin, wouldn’t you say?” Lady Mista’s mother gave the older Dwarf a charming smile.

“As you say, Lady Milva. And it is a prosperous one, too,” Balin nodded with a twinkle in his eye.

“I am truly overjoyed that I had this idea! I told my husband: ‘Remember that winter feast we had in Tumunzahar, love? The one when Prince Thorin — for His Majesty was merely a prince then — danced only with my dear Mista?’ He only had eyes for her that night! So many mothers had fits of jealousy, because he did not even spare a glance for any of their daughters!” Lady Milva chuckled.

“That must have been quite an event,” Balin admitted. 

Thorin gritted his teeth, acutely feeling the weight of his crown on his head — and the eyes of his subjects on him. Instead of addressing a few curt words to Lady Mista’s mother, he took a large gulp of wine.

“So it was, Lord Balin, so it was! If you only had been there to see it!” She dabbed an invisible tear from her eye. “They danced, and danced, and afterwards my sweet daughter would sigh, and dream away, and ask if Prince Thorin would attend the next feast! So when the Lonely Mountain was finally reclaimed, I told my husband: ‘My love, if you are not going to send that marriage proposal to King Thorin, I am going to take her to Azsâlul'abad myself!’. And do you know what he said?”

Thorin’s old mentor declared, “I have not the slightest idea, My Lady.” 

Neither had Thorin. He refilled his goblet. Beside him, Dis asked Lady Mista a question he did not quite hear, but she received no answer. Lady Milva’s daughter, the new Zabdûna undu ‘Urd, sat unmoving, staring at her empty plate, her lips pressed into a thin line, while her relentless mother kept on talking. 

“Well, my dear Tair said ‘No need to do that, my dearest, for I have already sent the proposal!’. I swear, we act and think as one, is it not so, my lord husband?” Lady Milva turned to her spouse and loudly pecked his cheek.

“You speak the truth, my dove,” her husband replied, running his hand down his thick silver beard braid with clear contentment. “It was a great honour that His Majesty agreed to our offer this time!”

“Oh, hush, my gem, no need to bring that up, it happened such a long time ago,” Lady Milva waved her hand. “It is of no consequence now.”

“May I ask what you mean, My Lady?” Óin put his fork aside and brought his hearing trumpet to his ear. “Is there another layer to this charming love story?”

“Indeed, there is! I can tell you in confidence,” Lady Milva clapped her hands, leaning towards Óin, although Thorin noticed that she did not bother to lower her voice, “that we sent a marriage proposal to Thorinuldûm a few years later, but we were informed that King Thorin was not interested. I must admit that we made a grave error that day! You see, dear Lord Óin, we offered the hand of our daughter Adla in marriage instead of Mista! Therefore, it was not at all surprising that His Majesty was not interested. She was simply not the right daughter! The whole Blue Mountains wondered why he would not marry our Adla — for you must know that she is considered one of the greatest beauties of our clan — nor any other lady for one hundred years!”

“A true mystery indeed,” Óin agreed with a chuckle.

Thorin glared into his goblet. It was not a mystery to him. He clearly remembered the day the first proposal arrived. This missive from Tumunzahar came together with another letter from Gabilgathol, the city of the Firebeard Dwarves. The city he vowed never to return to. The memories he buried on the bottom of his mind, never to revisit. The eyes he would never look into again.

“...so when we sent our second offer,” Lady Milva placed her goblet on the table with a loud thud, “the answer came swiftly. And now — just look at these two, My Lord, and tell me this was not a match carved in stone.”

“May Mahal grant them happiness!” Óin said, lifting his goblet.

Lady Milva did the same, stood up and added loudly, “Let us drink for their long-awaited reunion! Will our royal lovebirds sweeten the toast with a kiss?”

“A kiss! A kiss!” Several voices from among the guests were heard at first, and then more and more of them joined in the chant. “King and Queen! King and Queen!”

What a viper, Thorin cursed inwardly. So that was her revenge. He should have seen it coming. At that moment, he could no longer pretend that he had not heard Lady Milva’s words. Neither had Lady Mista. Their gazes met; her spectacles slid slightly down her nose, uncovering a pair of brown eyes — wide open and terrified.

Thorin leaned towards her, whispering into her ear in order to be heard despite the continuous chanting.

“Forgive me, Lady Mista. This is not how I…” He paused, searching for the right words that did not seem to come. “I am afraid that we may need to make a little spectacle of ourselves, if you do not mind.”

“Kiss! Kiss!” The chanting grew louder, just like Lady Milva’s vicious smile, as people started clapping their hands, stamping their feet, and banging their goblets against the tables.

“I understand. I apologise for my mother.” She signed discreetly in Iglishmêk. Her fingers trembled when she added, “Let us turn it to our advantage and give our people the fairy tale they expect.”

Our people.

“Very well,” Thorin signed back, offering her his hand, palm up, and trying to empty his mind of all the importunate thoughts. With everyone in the Great Hall staring at them expectantly, they had to do it. There was no other way. Lady Mista took his hand, and it seemed to him that in that very moment, a spark of understanding passed between them. This was something they had to do together, something they were expected to do as the King and Queen Under the Mountain. A duty. Nothing more.

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” The guests continued to chant.

Thorin stood up, waiting for Lady Mista to gather her skirts and do the same. A moment later, they stood, arm in arm, before the gathered crowd, their hands joined. The continuous chanting echoed against the ceiling of the Great Hall when he turned to face her. Their gazes met; in the candlelight, her eyes looked like molten amber. The new Queen nodded almost imperceptibly, her fine hand gave his a little squeeze, and he could not stall any longer. Thorin lowered his face towards her and his nose bumped against hers,  so he tilted his head further, mindful of her spectacles, and let his lips gently brush against hers. 

Her breath hitched, and he carefully moved to press his lips against hers, and she must have stood up on her tiptoes because he met the softness of her lips much sooner than expected, and she smelled, or perhaps tasted, like an apple orchard, sweet and innocent, and—

An enthusiastic storm of cheers washed over the Mountain, drowning all the importunate thoughts of his for a long while.

To be continued...

✨ Chapter list: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4... ✨ Entangled Masterlist

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@silvergemofdurin @blackqueengold @shantismurf If you're crossed out or not in the list any longer, it means that Tumblr hasn't been allowing me to tag you for a longer while. Please DM me so we can figure it out together.

[sanrielle]

Amazing fanart by Joanacchi! Posted here on tumblr with their blessing. Each one is based on a style that reflects a particular ancient culture's art history. (See below for descriptions provided by the artist!)

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Aang: Tibetan Thangka

"Thangkas are traditional Tibetan tapestries that have been used for religious and educational purposes since ancient times! The techniques applied can vary greatly, but they usually use silk or cotton fabrics to paint or embroider on. What you can depict in a Thangka is really versatile, and I wanted to represent things that make up Aang as a character."

Zuko and Azula: Japanese Ukiyo-e

"Ukiyo-e is a style that has been around Japan between the 17th and 19th century, and focused mainly in representing daily life, theater(kabuki), natural landscapes, and sometimes historical characters or legends!

Ukiyo-e was developed to be more of a fast and commercial type of art, so many drawings we see are actually woodblock prints, so the artist could do many copies of the same art!

I based my Zuko and Azula pieces on the work of Utagawa Kuniyoshi (1798-1861) one of the last ukiyo-e masters in Japan! He has a specific piece which featured a fire demon fighting a lord that fought back with lighting, and that really matched Zuko and Azula's main techniques!”

Toph: Chinese Portraiture from Ming and Qing Dynasties

"Ming Dynasty (1368-1644) was one of the longest in China! It was also a period where lots of artistic evolutions were happening, especially when it comes to use of colour! There was not a predilection for portraits during this time, but there are a lot of pieces depicting idealized women and goddesses from the standards of the time. For this portrait of Toph, I imagined something that maybe their parents commissioned, depicting a soft and delicate Toph which we know is not what she is about ♥️

Qing Dynasty (1644-1912) was the last Chinese Dynasty to reign before the Revolution. One of the most famous emperors of this period was Qianlong, and he really liked Western art! He commissioned a lot of portraits of his subordinates, and I chose a portrait of one of his bodyguards as a reference for the second Toph portrait, which I believe is much more like how she would want to be represented! The poem on top talks about the bodyguards' achievements during a specific war. I had no time to come up with a poem for Toph, so I just used the same one for the composition!”

Sokka and Katara: Inuit Lithograph

"For a long time, Inuit art expressed itself in utilitarian ways. The Nomadic lifestyle of early Inuit tribes played a huge part in that: most art pieces are carved in useful tools, clothing, or children's toys, small and easy to be transported, and depicted scenes and patterns representing their daily lives!

That changed a lot during the colonization. Since the settling of the Inuit tribes, many art pieces began to be created in order to be exported to foreigns, so they started to sculpt bigger and more decorative pieces.

Lithography, which is a type of printmaking, was introduced to Inuit people by James Houston, that learned the technique from the japanese. The art form was quickly embraced by the inuit, as part of the process is very similar to carving. Prints that are produced by inuit artists are still being sold today!

As lithography is not an old art style and it's still commercially relevant to the Inuit communities, since creating these in 2021 I have been donating regularly to the Inuit Art Foundation, not only all the money I get from selling some prints of these but a bit more, at least once a year. Hopefully, I can increase donations this year!”

[paradiseismine]

Finnverse undies preferences headcanons

Pairing: Finnverse characters x f!reader

Warnings: a bit spicy, but no actual smut.

Love note from Nina: This is a little thing I had in my notes that seemed quite interesting ☺️

Summary: which kind of panties each of Finn’s characters would prefer to see you wearing.

Boris Pavlikovsky

He always says he couldn’t care less. It’s like caring about the gift wrapping instead of the actual gift… It’s gonna end up all crumpled on the floor anyway, isn’t it? But he had a very different opinion when you wore see-through embroidered panties once. You looked so sexy and elegant, he couldn’t possibly resist touching you and letting out some praise in Russian.

Mike Wheeler

Boyshorts. Maybe it’s the late 80s, maybe it’s how they hug your hips, or how your butt cheeks hang out on the back just a bit… Seeing you in boyshorts makes his mouth water and his hands immediately go to your butt for some good grips. Mike’s a butt guy, you’ve always known that.

Miles Fairchild

lol what panties? He gets a bit offended that you even choose to WEAR panties when you know you’re meeting him on that day. Get those panties off, it’s not like you’re gonna need them. Your pussy needs to be as easily available as possible at all times.

Trevor Spengler

As he says it himself, Trev loves some “useless panties” - the ones so small they barely cover anything. Just thin strings of fabric he could easily slide to the side and touch you. Something about those make him really feral. You’re so girly and dainty on the outside, he loves knowing how naughty you get just for him; teasing him with those tiny, slutty panties of yours.

Ziggy Katz

A lacy thong is usually a no-brainer choice with Ziggy: he loves elaborate textures and knowing you got dressed with him in mind that day. However, once, you bought a custom thong with his name spelled out in little golden charms, and as tacky as it might sound, he lost his mind over it. Any pair of panties that references him in any way is a go-to. He tries his best not to accidentally rip them, though, because he gets so horny he might use a bit too much force.