#short embroidery top

[inaayajaipur]

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[sysig]

Challenge level: Impossible (Patreon)

[lifesver]

leland's fashion section of his board a bit funny.

[demaparbat-hp]

Hiya!! 👋🏼😄 How's it going? Your fashion taste for Zuko in a Modern AU seems to be artsy, or maybe "formal" is the word. That shirt he wore when he gave Sokka romantic song advice looked Versace🧐. Anyway, I was wondering how you came up with it, he always struck me more as the type that didn´t care much about fashion, so I'm curious about other´s opinions and heacanons about it. And do you have any other fashion headcanons for the rest of the GAang? Also, their music tastes. How did you come up with them? Especially Katara's! 😍

Hello! As it happens, I have a lot of Thoughts and Feelings™ about this, so I'm leaving these over here, and the rest of my ramblings down below the cut!

Let us begin with the Gaang, shall we?

SUKI always struck me as that Pretty Girl from the Gym. She is so incredibly fit it isn't even funny. She could kick anyone's ass, and we'd all thank her. She has this casual gym style that somehow always looks glorious on her, as it should! Comfy yet fashionable clothes for a nice workout or a day in town.

Her music tastes are basically any and all power songs from the eighties and nineties. (Eye of the Tiger, anyone?) She also enjoys metal via Toph, and bands like BSB, NSYNC, or Boyz II Men with Katara. My girl has a very eclectic Playlist and we all love her for it.

SOKKA is That Guy™. Loose T-shirts and shorts everywhere he goes, no matter the weather. He's stupidly into fashion but it doesn't show! At all! And everyone teases him about it. His closet is about 90% Cactus Juice merchandise, hence the "it's the quenchiest!" shirt.

His fashion and music tastes are pretty much the same. He loves poetry but isn't really into lyrics. He'll misinterpret just about anything you place in front of him. His Playlist is mostly vibes and tiktok songs he kind of enjoys. He isn't really into music...at least not as much as his sister.

AANG owns exactly one hoodie, one pair of shorts, and one beanie (THE beanie). Oh, and the crocs—don't forget the crocs. Somehow, he's always wearing the exact same outfit. Every. Single. Day. Ancient Gaang lore suggests that the day Aang goes out without his beanie, it's the end of the world.

His Playlist is the poppiest, most bizarre thing ever. Every single song is Happy by Pharrell Williams levels of happy. Yet sometimes, among the bouncy dance-to songs, you'll find the strangest of things... (He does know what Good Day by Twenty One Pilots is about. That's the reason he likes it so much, actually. And it's so weird.)

KATARA is all about sundresses and loose pants. The epitome of comfortable loveliness. Light fabrics in blue shades, careful embroidery, delicate shoes, and little to no accessories—hers is a simple, yet quite adorable, style. She just needs to add more colors to her usual palette...

She is, first and foremost, a Florence + The Machine girl. It's the Dark Goddess of the Sea vibes, to be honest. Florence Welch is her idol and yes, she will fight you about lyrics interpretation, and win. It may not seem like it, but her music tastes are also very varied.

She draws a little from each member of the Gaang, so you'll hear her humming along to Gorillaz (where did you even find out about them, Aang?), The Weeknd (I...don't think this song means what you think it means, Sokka...), and Hozier (Zuko why did you dedicate Talk to me, Zuko WHAT DID YOU MEAN BY THAT).

TOPH...ah, lovely girl. I'll summarise everything about Toph’s fashion sense in two words: comfort and rebellion. Stuffy dresses forced on her by billionaire parents? No thank you! Give her tank tops with loose shirts and short pants. Bandaids shared with Aang, bracelets from Katara, and even piercings she got in tandem with Sokka. Shoes? What even is that?

Something I love about this fandom is our collective agreement that Toph is into the dirtiest, heaviest, most ear-splitting and soul-crushing death metal of all times. Her Playlist is full of the most obscure names to ever exist, and she can and will blast through your walls with the sheer volume of her speaker.

Zuko. ZUKO.

Even in a modern AU my boy must suffer. That being said, I envision Tales from the Couch as—well, exactly what it is: an ATLA modern AU. While there is not a war to fight, and a lot of plot lines are discarded or expanded upon, much about the core story remains the same.

This is my way of saying that Zuko still goes trough his redemption arc, and it reflects on his fashion choices.

The way you described it works perfectly because of one single reason: in this AU, Zuko is an artist. He had to suppress his love for writing and drawing because of his background and the expectations Ozai had for him (taking over the family company), and a very large part of his redemption arc directly affects his relationship with art.

In the Couch equivalent of S1, Zuko has fallen out of Ozai's graces, and is desperate to protect his place in the company and the Kasai household. He's pretending to be someone he isn't and trying to live up to his Father's image of a perfect heir while still being somewhat cut-off financially, and it shows.

He's all about imposing long coats and a semi-formal style, imitating what he knows Azula and Father would respect. He's striking and sharp and dark. But no matter how he dresses or carries himself (that air of cold superiority and arrogance)—it won't help him when he needs it the most.

In S2, Zuko has hit his lowest point. He's officially disinherited and tossed away by his father, and would be out in the streets if it wasn't for Uncle Iroh. He goes from sharp, high-tailored outfits to old second-hand clothes that hang loosely on his frame. He starts smoking and cuts his hair off, forgoing the undercut for the first time in years.

But then...Father accepts him back. When Zuko returns home, it's with respect to his name and a very high position in his father's company. He's finally the perfect Kasai heir, dressed in overly expensive suits and finery, even at home... But Father forbids him from wearing Lu Ten's earring, and Zuko can no longer recognize himself without the familiar glint of gold dancing on his peripheral vision.

When Zuko leaves the Kasai name behind him and goes back to living with Uncle Iroh...he's finally at peace with who he is, and what he wants in this life. The sharp edges aren't gone (they'll always be a part of him, after all), but now they're dulled by looser clothes and softer hairstyles.

He's an artist, and for once in his life, he is determined to pursue his own ambitions. Zuko's outfits may not be designer-made anymore, but he takes what he has and makes himself look like he wants to look, like the person he wants to be.

He doesn't read fashion magazines or keeps up to the latest trends like Azula does. He's just...Zuko. And his newfound confidence makes everything he wears look like it belongs on him.

As for music...well, Ursa raised a literature boy.

He loves lyric-heavy music and natural voices, be they soothing or powerful. Dissecting song meanings and possible interpretations with Katara is one of his favorite parts of the day. They're both very passionate and strong-minded individuals, so it stands to reason that their debates can get quite...heated.

Zuko's Playlist is both incredibly eclectic and somehow very...him. There's a common thread that binds together every song and artist he likes, and he's hilariously unaware of this. To take a look into his Playlist is a higher honor reserved only for those closest to him.

In the wide spectrum of things, it is no wonder that Zuko is, first and foremost, a Hozier man. But though Andrew is his God in all aspects of this life, there's someone else that has had a huge impact on him...

Two someones, actually.

Zuko refuses to tell anyone how he got into Twenty One Pilots, but it's kind of a moot point when the beginning of his obsession is nothing compared to everything that came after. They have just about the right amount of everything that makes Zuko...well, Zuko. The poetic lyrics, the soothing or raging music, the heavy, intensely resonant themes...

Up there, in the second artwork, I placed an album cover behind each period of Zuko's life. The election of these records is intentional, as I feel like their general themes work incredibly well with Zuko's arc and growth.

Blurryface in S1. For the demons within us. For giving a name to our fears and shame.

Trench in S2. For escaping the confined walls of a depression city, and fighting to understand the depths of the map of your mind.

Scaled and Icy in the first half of S3. For returning to places you had left behind. For convincing yourself and everyone around you that you're fine, that you're perfect, even though everything is crumbling inside...

Clancy in S3. For recognizing that you can backslide, that you can have fears and shame and pain—but you're shaping yourself with each step you take. For knowing that seeking help from others is okay. Nobody learns to walk on their own.

(And, in the end, you'll always be better than the person you were yesterday. If only because you're still here. You're still alive. You're still yourself.)

.

Overall, I rambled a bit too much, don't you think?

If you made it all the way down here—thank you so much for reaching out and being interested in this crazy AU! I hope you enjoy these ideas and tell me some of your own ❤️

[inky-duchess]

Fantasy Guide to the Fashion of 1940s

The 1940s was a time for great change in the world and in fashion. Marked by rationing and shortage of fabrics, the silhouette and availability of different cuts was limited so the women of the era turned to more fitted, shorter cuts.

Undergarments

The undergarments of the era were not as restrictive or complicated in WW2 as they were pre-WW1, but there were a lot of moving parts to the set-up.

Bra/Brassiere: Bras got shorter in the 1940s due to the rationing of fabric. They look much like they do today, made of light coloured fabrics and hooked with metal eyelets.

Panties/Knickers: The underwear. Elasticated underwear was around and actually exempt from rationing.

Girdle: The girdle rests on the lower torso, past the hips and were used for shaping as well as support.

Garters: Were worn at the top of the stocking just above the knee to hold the stocking in place.

Garter Belt: Was a belt worn around the waist and used to hold up the stockings and garters thanks to fastenings.

Slip: A slip is a light loose dress that is worn under another dress. It is long or short depending on the size of the dress you're wearing over it. The slip has slim straps and was usually plain though lace and embroidery were no uncommon. Most younger women favoured the half slip which was like another skirt.

Stockings: Stockings were worn over the lower legs, clipped and held in place by the garters. If your lady is lucky enough to have a friend on the black market, she might be lucky enough to have proper nylon tights. But if not, some ladies in this period dyed their legs with tea bags and drew the seam up the back of their legs to give the effect.

Outfits

Most women still wore skirts and dresses in the 1940s though some women switched to pants. Most of the outfits of the time followed a similar silhouette due to rationing: it was simple, unsophosticated, fitted, belted and hems remained just below the knee. A suit jacket and skirt combo was popular. Blouses and jumpers were also worn. Dresses were worn as well. Women would pair their outfit with accessories. They would always wear a hat outside and gloves.

Shoes

Shoes were effected by the war, with leather and rubber being limited. Most were brown, black or two two-tone shoes were popular. Oxford shoes, saddle shoes, loafers, court shoes, slingback were popular. These could be lace ups or have fastenings. Heels were usual, but rather short and stocky if worn in the day time. Most would be plain but some would have embellishments.

The Reality of the 1940s

With war on and rationing well underway, the question of clothes was always on the mind. Most women did not have a large wardrobe and with clothing coupons little help, most women made and made due. Hems would be let down, larger sizes cut down and a lot of clothing reused. Fabric choice was limited, silk and nylon were used for parachutes and military applications. Clothing rations were the only way to get new clothes in the war. The average person was entitled at first to 66 clothing coupons per year. But that only would buy an outfit of clothes not including the necessaries. And the number of ration coupons went down as the war went on, down to 36 coupons in 1945. It was illegal to transfer coupons but even despite this, in 1947 hundreds of women offered the future Queen Elizabeth II their rations for her wedding dress. The offer was declined but the government had to approve the release of extra coupons to the Princess. Women also turned to alternatives to create clothes especially wedding gowns even made them out of parachutes!

Make up and Hair

Make up and perfume was one of the many things that was rationed due to their chemical components such as glycerine. Women could access make up but due to rationing and many make up companies not having the ingredients or changing to more profitable and patriotic output, supplies were low. Women often turned to DIY, burnt cork for mascara and eyeliner, natural stains such as beetroot or cochineal for lipstick, crushed rose petals for blush, soot/charcoal for eyeliner, facemasks of egg white or oatmeal, beeswax for moisturiser and cold cream. As for hair women often turned to DIY to care and wash for their hair. Homemade shampoos were made from soap, vinegar and baking soda. Egg yolks were used for conditioner. Lemon juice was used to lighten hair. Olive oil was used to make hair shiny. Some popular hairstyles of the era:

Victory Rolls: This is the hairstyle you're probably thinking ofwhen you think of the 40s. It involves rolling the hair away from the face and rolling them at the top of the head.

Pin Curls: This is a hairstyle involving the curling and pinning of hair overnight got tight curls for the next day.

Pageboy: This is a shoulder-length style, curled at the ends

Waves: This style involves soft waves

Pompadours: The hairstyle involves the sweeping up of hair back from the face and sculpting it to be more voluminous.

Snoods: This is a sort of net worn over the hair, usually with a rat (a sort of device used to increase volume at the front of the hair)

Scarves: Were popular replacement for hats, used to cover their hair when going out.

[taylorswiftstyle]

MTV Video Music Awards | September 11, 2024

Dior Resort 2025 Lorraine Schwartz earrings Stuart Weitzman ‘Ultrastuart Maverick Leather Boots’ - $1,550.00

Dior’s latest cruise collection was an ode to Scotland and the house’s first runway show held there in 7 decades. Creative director Maria Grazia Chiuri said of her inspiration, “Scotland is an important reference in the fashion world and I wanted to interpret it in a different way. For my generation, it’s so associated with punk.” The result was an offering full of voluminous skirts, dramatically cinched dresses, and hourglass jackets rendered in historically accurate tartans and, indeed, set off with certain punk sensibilities thanks to studded leather accessories and clompy buckled boots. 

The VMA dress code typically leans towards the wacky and the outrageous. Hence why Taylor has felt comfortable appearing in alphagetti soup baby onesies (aka The Incident, circa 2014). I’ll put it on record again and again that I may pull a face at that look (and still do, a decade later) but I will always appreciate a risk (relative to the wearer). Fashion should be fun! 

The collection filters Scotland’s most historic women into its fabrics. Namely, Mary Queen of Scots: a fiery Sagittarius woman I’d like to think Taylor might feel kinship with. During her years of imprisonment in England by QEI, Mary would insert veiled - often political - symbols into her embroidery. At one point even the phrase, "In my end lies my beginning" was embroidered into her state's clothes. Doesn’t that feel, “In the death of her reputation, she felt truly alive”? 

In his review of this Dior runway, Mark Holgate for Vogue described the collection as one that “drew on the geopolitics of fabric[s …] and the way [Mary] gave political commentary through her embroideries.” He described the series as full of “defiant beauty and an equally defiant energy. It felt uncompromising. But then maybe women can’t afford to be anything but that, especially now.” If a possible connect, I admire this evocation in the wake of Taylor’s major political endorsement. Especially given Chiuri worked with the iconic Harris Tweeds for their artisan, loomed wool. This teed her up nicely for an onstage call to action to remind viewers to register to vote.

All-in, this felt like a cohesive night of looks to underpin TTPD’s aesthetic. The runway’s interplay of proportions and bustier-like top are very TTPD - sensual, emboldened, playing with what to reveal and what to hide. A look that’s dark academia adjacent. 

I do find the biker gloves (also by Dior) confusing and I’m searching for insight on their ‘why’. At the Grammys, I could buy into the ‘Albatross’ reference in her black elbow-length gloves. These? I’m still trying to make sense of. A straitjacket allusion, perhaps? Were I to make some styling tweaks, I would have removed the gloves, opted for the coordinating tartan shorts from the runway, and changed the boots out to an equally tall but caged style to tie into the patterned effect of the ensemble.

Photo by Dimitrios Kambouris via Getty Images

[scrimblescromble]

Welcome to Scrim shoves two things she loves together! Today we have a bit more of a historically "accurate" Rapunzel, with her main outfits from the movie and Tangled the Series!

I was thinking of doing Cassandra next :)

Detailed explanation for all my choices below!

These are all fashions from roughly the 1780s, although they wouldn't necessarily be worn all in the same place and time. The colours are also too bright in some cases to achieve at the time

The dresses from the movie and season 1 are both inspired by the robe a l'anglais, although she would wear the movie dress without stays or any extra padding

The movie dress' split skirt is an illusion, and the dress is simply folded over. In general it's quite simple, as Rapunzel made it herself, and shorter than a normal dress. The shift peeks throughout. The pattern is embroidery that she also did herself. I also stuck to the lighter colour palette as a means to show how young she is

Despite being a different rendition of the movie dress, I imagine that she would have worn something different once becoming Princess; thus it hits the same beats. The bodice is darker, and there is a real split, and overall more detail and bigger ruffles. She's more mature now, and growing into her identity as a Princess

Her season two outfit is a Redingote, or, riding coat. The white fabric is something that would have often been worn with many dresses, and the belt thing can be seen on other examples of a day robe a l'anglaise, and her purse hangs off quite naturally. I took away the belt she had since she weirdly has two(?)

The season three dress is a robe a la polonaise, which has that gathered skirt bit at the back. The extra gold and purple bits on the sleeve would be normally ruffled on top of the base sleeve. I gave her an extra little ruffle at the bottom to harken back to the movie, although I imagine it as just a bit of lace at the bottom. The sun motif has been moved to the centre, and the pattern with it, as asymmetry just wasn't much of a thing then.

And the coronation gown is the iconic robe a la francaise, the really wide one. This one would have been worn with a pannier underneath to support it, and were very heavily ruffled. By the 1780s, they were an older style. Her hair is actually less extravagant than expected, as often such tall hair would have large adornment; it would also include the lady's real hair.

She wears a ruffled choker for season three and the coronation, which is actually historical!

Further notes:

Besides the coronation gown, the main support that Rapunzel would wear would be stays and petticoats, perhaps some padding. This keeps in with the time, although she is looser than a Princess may have been

I wanted to base some fashion on the robe a la chemise, which was a much looser style of light fabric tied at the waist. It's very Rapunzel, but alas, the silhouettes weren't really close enough. It's a good alternative for her movie dress, though

At the time, dresses were not floor length! She is still weird for not wearing shoes, though

Hats were a very big thing at the time, but she just doesn't seem like a hat person. By and large I just left the hair untouched since it's so long that the usual loose ringlets of the time wouldn't work, and otherwise it's too short to do anything with. I imagine she gets away without a hat because Cassandra has given up on asking

[trusweethrt]

— ✶ heaven!reader ༊*· dating single dad!rafe

✶ heaven!reader is the definition of a walking angel. her movements are graceful, much like her angelic voice that draws everyone in. everything from her hair down to her scent screams heavenly, making her even more alluring. you can find her in a flower field a cafe ordering lattes with extravagant and tedious foam art, or lounging on rafe's couch in her favorite white lace lingerie while she.

✶ heaven smells like...cinnamon. caramel. marshmallow. cashmere. white rose. her go to perfumes are killan paris angels, sabrina carpenter caramel dream, chanel paris riviera, and burberry body

✶ heaven's staples...silver jewelry. white knee highs. kitten heels. secret tattoos. leg warmers. lace trim. ruffled skirts. sheer dresses. pearl barrettes. white ribbon. matching lounge sets. lace shorts.

✶ she'll be in your thoughts when you see...folding fans. burning candles. white wine. clean sheets. embroidery tops. unique jewelry. lana del rey. old books. silk bedding. angelic music.

coming soon...

taglist 🪽: @bunbun-3 @drewscoquette @untitled10351 @rafesweetie @meetmebehindthemallrafe @supercutelovergirl @drewswife @plaidcowboy @missquantic @rafesdiorperfume @minitarayummy @this-one-weeb @akobx @mystianqel @lacebambidoll @dolletebun @amterasuu @milamilkie

[bumblesimagines]

Blood of The Dragon

Request: Yes or No

Summary: Still reeling from the death of Lucerys Velaryon and the failed assassination attempt that resulted in the death of Jaehaerys, Aemond seeks out his closest kin.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

TW/CW: Typical HOTD warnings, spoilers for S2, brief Targcest (Older Brother-Younger Brother), (Y/N) is the twin of Helaena, mentions of the deaths of children (Luke and Jaehaerys), blatant manipulation but Aemond is touch-starved so, potentially ooc Aemond im still figuring out how to write him, kinda short

WFMF may take a bit to come out y'all! I'm waiting to get my hands on the book again so I can finally decide if/what I'll change from the show and what I'll keep.

~~~

Aemond scarcely paid the Small Council meeting any heed, his gaze shifting between staring at his brother's exhausted, dead-eyed expression and studying the golden coin pinched between his thumb and index finger. He rubbed the pad of his thumb over the design etched into the coin and felt a strike of dread squeeze around his throat. The coin continuously served as a reminder of how close Daemon's vermin had been to stealing the air from his lungs, and how cruelly they'd taken his little nephew's head instead. 

Aegon looked ruined, his anger and grief coaxing him into sinking further and further into his cups until he could no longer comprehend the words fleeing his mouth. Aemond found it pathetic most days, for the 'rightful' heir to be a whiny drunk, but now he found it in himself to be sympathetic toward him. Aemond knew little of losing a child but the death of an innocent child he watched grow up still struck pain in his gut. He never expected their older half-sister to be so cruel. 

With the meeting ending swiftly after reaching nothing new or useful, Aemond retreated from the room in long strides that took him down the many halls of the Keep. His thoughts continued in circles, reminding him of young Luke and the horror that'd washed over him when he watched Vhagar snap her jaws around him and his dragon. The younger dragon had fallen to bloody bits from the sky and into the vast ocean below, washing up on a beach or so he'd heard. He hadn't desired such an outcome but he knew his words would fall on deaf ears when everyone whispered 'Kinslayer' behind his back. 

Before he knew it, his legs had taken him to his older sister's room and he entered with some hesistance, unsure of what he could possibly say or do that'd ease the pain of losing a child. He immediately spotted Helaena seated on the floor with her skirt spread around her and her hands occupied with finishing an embroidery. Her fingers moved automatically, muscle memory from all the times she'd spent doing needlework. Her pale eyes remained distant, however, and red from constant weeping. Aemond always knew Helaena to be the most sensitive out of all his children but he'd never seen her cry before. 

"Aemond," Helaena's twin, (Y/N), greeted him, his head tilted downwards from his spot on the couch as he brushed out the knots in Helaena's hair until her silver hair was smooth and detangled enough to braid. He set the brush aside and began braiding, a process he'd long become acquainted with when young Helaena refused to be touched by the maids. "Do you require something?"

"I wished to see how our sister was doing," Aemond replied and clasped his hands behind his back, grimacing when his words brought no reaction out of their sister. She'd always been a girl of little words but she never failed to at least offer acknowledgment with short words or glances. Helaena merely continued to thread her needle through the fabric.

"She is tired, Aemond. We all are." (Y/N) spoke, finishing the braid and letting it rest along Helaena's back. He leaned forward and pressed a fleeting kiss to the top of her head, his hands sliding down to cup her elbows and help her rise onto her swaying feet. Aemond made no move to offer his help, for he knew it'd be rejected whilst Helaena remained in such a state. 

Aemond lowered his gaze to the floor and stepped aside, his head bowed as (Y/N) led Helaena to her bed and helped tug the covers up to her waist. He offered quiet words of comfort before peeling himself from the edge of the bed and approaching Aemond, casting him a brief glance as the two stepped outside.

(Y/N) lingered until the doors to her bedchambers shut and the guards resumed their positions, his arms folding over his chest and face unreadable, as was typical of his brother. The twins had always been an unpredictable sort, no one ever truly deciphering what went through their minds. Aemond found it troubling at times, being unable to read him as he did Aegon, but he trusted him regardless. 

"Where was Cole, I wonder." (Y/N) simply said, his feet moving and voice devoid of everything but a flicker of annoyance that tugged Aemond's attention toward him. The one-eyed prince caught up with his older brother in quick strides, the direction they headed in being toward (Y/N)'s own chambers.

"He claimed to be abed." (Y/N)'s lips pressed into a line at his response. Aemond's brow twitched upward. "Cole is-"

"Cole is but a child surrounded by toys yet desires the prettiest one, one that belongs to another and should never be allowed into his foolish hands." His brother looked him directly in the eye when the doors to his chambers were opened for him, violet eyes as cold as ever. "He is pathetic."

Aemond swiped his tongue over his dry lips and followed his brother inside the room, his fingers tightening around his wrist. "Do you speak of Ser Criston... or me, dear brother?" He asked once the doors shut, leaving them in the silence of (Y/N)'s bedchambers, the air as chilly as the attitude of the older Targaryen. (Y/N) scoffed quietly and poured himself tea that'd no doubt gone tepid in his absence. "Have I not served our King faithfully enough?"

The prettily decorated teapot clattered against the wood of the table it'd sat upon, (Y/N)'s head raising to stare at Aemond. "Ao tymptan Jaes se vēttan aōla iā mittys." Aemond could hear the anger in his tone, barely contained but somehow pushed back to slowly drip through. "The boy you needlessly slaughtered was no Velaryon but he was our sister's child. Īlva ānogar. They killed Jaehaerys to avenge that child, Aemond. Helaena paid the consequences of your actions."

"Would you have preferred they kill me instead, then?" Aemond bristled.

"I would have preferred hearing of your success at Storm's End and how the princeling returned to Dragonstone without an alliance." (Y/N) snapped back, curling his fingers around his teacup and sipping from its contents. Aemond inhaled deeply, his jaw clenching and unclenching; teeth slowly grinding together and the tension in his shoulders easing into a sag. 

Aemond walked forward, his hand lifting to tug the eyepatch from his face and letting it fall onto the table as he took a seat. (Y/N) followed his movements with keen eyes and a deep frown, one of the few times his brother so outwardly showed his disapproval toward him. They stared at each other for a few quiet moments, the coin searing a hole through Aemond's pocket. 

"I only meant to frighten him. I did not wish such harm upon him; I did not want him dead or gravelly injured. I... feel sorry for how things occurred between him and I. I did not... I did not mean to bring pain upon Helaena or Aegon." Aemond leaned forward, broad hands pressing into the back of (Y/N)'s thighs to pull him closer gently whilst his forehead rested along his lower stomach. He exhaled softly when (Y/N) placed his palm upon the back of Aemond's head, fingers running through his hair. "I allowed foolish emotions to best me." 

"Foolish emotions you've stewed in for years, Aemond. You are man-grown and a prince... a third-born son who will never sit the throne." His nostrils flared with a sharp inhale of air and he leaned away, back pressing into the chair and lips pressing tightly together. (Y/N) watched him, palm pressing back the strands that went astray with his movements before he curled his fingers around Aemond's chin and forced him to keep his head tilted upwards. "I am the King's heir, now that they've killed our poor nephew, just as you killed the other. Aegon had potential, Aemond, whether you believe it or not." 

"He is a drunk-"

"Yes, but he pleased the smallfolk before sinking into his cups. They were happy and eager to accept him as their ruler. He will now ignore them, and with the ever-impulsive Cole at his side... it will not be long before we are ruined by one or the other, Aemond." (Y/N)'s thumb delicately stroked along his cheek, his eyes softening but the coldness tittering at the edges. Aemond leaned into his touch, his knitted brows easing as he soaked in the words of his brother.

"Aegon cannot rule, and neither can Cole," Aemond murmured, pressing himself further into (Y/N)'s hand when his brother gave a nod. "What is it you believe we must do?"

"Rook's Nest. Our sister will not be allowed to turn her cheek away when Cole and Uncle's army descends upon it, and neither will Aegon. He desires to prove himself, you've seen it. He'll try to in battle... and when he does, he must.. fall to injury. Vhagar knows the taste of war, and with you as her rider, Cole will have no choice but to ignore whatever it is you do. The Council will favor me over Mother as regent whilst Aegon recovers."

"And what will you do once you are named Prince Regent?" 

(Y/N)'s lips curled upward and he bent down, both hands cupping Aemond's face to press their lips together. The action caught him by surprise, but the twinge of longing for a loving hand shot through his veins. The teachings from the septas and maesters told him it was wrong, but Targaryens were no ordinary men; the blood of the dragon coursed through them. Aemond pushed into him, rising from his chair to encircle his arms around (Y/N)'s waist. (Y/N)'s grip tightened and he forced Aemond to lean back.

"You... will be named Hand." (Y/N) told him, and Aemond's shoulders straightened, his single violet eye gleaming. He'd always be meant for such a position, and as much as Cole had been a father to him, he was still the mere son of a steward; someone hardly meant for the position of Hand.

(Y/N)'s grip loosened into a gentle touch, coaxing Aemond to lean into it once more. "I will not risk the fall of this family, Aemond, not like this. Enough of our sacred blood has been spilled. I will do what our mother and brother and grandsire failed to do. If Rhaenyra has withheld as much as she has in search of peace, I will test how desperate she is to obtain it."

[inaayajaipur]

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[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Rook Hunt - Room Relaxation Voice Lines

I must away quickly to my bed. If only so I can experience an utterly fantastic birthday.

Summon: Eheh, I received birthday tidings from everyone in my dreams already. I must make this a superb birthday that doesn't fall short of my sweet dream!

Groovification: As the birthday boy, I must have a grand appearance... Figuring out how I should look is both difficult and thrilling!

Home: My anti-bedhead counter-measure is flawless.

Swap Looks: This perfectly suits the spirit of my dormitory.

Home Transition 1: When was the last time I celebrated my birthday with my family, I wonder...? We aren't on bad terms by any means, but it's quite rare for everyone to gather together all at once.

Home Transition 2: With a flowy fabric, a satiny feel, and elegantly puffy sleeves... This is my absolute favorite sleepwear.

Home Transition 3: What are you looking at...? Ah, the pom-pom on my cap. Honestly, sometimes I also get the urge to play with them.

Home Transition - Login: On my birthday, I find there's more for me to write in my diary about. I received so many birthday wishes... Which makes me the happiest person in the world.

Home Transition - Groovy: When I zoomed in on the photo that Cater-kun took for me, I saw that the little bird I was reunited with then was also in the background! What a pleasant surprise!

Home Tap 1: What a beautiful feather... I must display it right away! It was definitely the correct choice to ask Ace for it when he mentioned he was on flamingo duty.

Home Tap 2: I received a handkerchief from Riddle. See this elegant embroidery...? It is just as beautiful as the roses that grow in his dormitory.

Home Tap 3: From those who wish me well with smiles and laughter, to those who casually tosses me a comment in passing... Each birthday wish I receive is tailored to each individual!

Home Tap 4: While I was in a friendly chat with a friend, I could see Idia-kun in the distance. He needed not say a single word, I could feel he wanted to wish me his warmest regards!

Home Tap 5: Oh là là... However could I have caught the hem of my top in my waistband? Thank you for telling me.

Home Tap - Groovy: My beloved hairclips are one of my dearest treasures― There are rare gems only available to members of the "Eternal Snow" fanclub!

Duo: [ROOK]: Show me how you'd celebrate, Cater-kun! [CATER]: Rook-kun, let's make this a rockin' year!

Birthday Login Message: Bonjour! And also, merci. How wonderful to have you come celebrate my birthday. Hm? Oh, sorry, I just received a message from Trey-kun. "I need you for something, so come to the club room." ...is what he said. He want's me to come all the way to the Science Club room, I see... Heh. Does it not seem like there may be a spectacular surprise waiting for me? Perhaps I'll be suddenly doused in a barrage of soapsuds... Or perhaps they'll hit me with a thrilling show with an explosion of powder? Oh, my. It does no good to imagine too grandly. Regardless, I plan to enjoy my day to the fullest!

Requested by @farfalla049, @mizumire and @thelonepearl.

[ryebread0605]

Hi! Are you okay with us requesting smut? If so, could I request maybe Jamil pulling Reader/Yuu into a private area after a basketball game and taking them? It's up to you if they won or lost, but he just has so much adrenaline after the game he needs to let it out somehow, and Reader/Yuu dressed up in a like cheerleading outfit and was cheering him on and he couldn't stop looking at them throughout the game. Bonus points for jealousy because the other team was checking Reader/Yuu out- thank you so much!

Smut is 100% ok to request! As long as it isn’t Floyd x jade, silver x Lilia, or anyone x ortho! 

I love soft dom Jamil so I hope that’s ok if I kinda added that! Jealousy will be included cuz I find it cute to have him want your attention on him! 

Includes: dom Jamil, public sex, fem reader, some light degradation

MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY

Jamil never thought himself one to be jealous, especially not after he let his jealousy cause him to nearly harm you when he Overblotted. So when he felt the familiar twist in his stomach, seeing members of the opposing team watching your cheer routine? He tried to ignore it. Surely the feeling would go away overtime, right? Yeah, of course they would. And afterall, how could they not want to look at you in that cute crop top and pleated skirt, embroidery of the Night Raven College logo dead center across your chest. Those twirls, you bending down, the cute smile on your face.. sevens he had to try hard to focus on the match. 

You ran to Jamil with a huge smile on your face as the match ended, NRC winning 7-5 making it a close game. Pom Pom’s still in your hands, you wrap your arms around his waist. 

“Jamil! You guys did amazing! Did you hear how loud I was cheering? I hope so!” Your voice was cheery as you bounced in place, Jamil finding it harder and harder to keep his gaze on your face and not at your cleavage pressed against him. He was still annoyed at how the other boys had stared at you, but that annoyance and jealousy grew far FAR worse as Floyd and Ace decided to come over and make things worse. 

“Heyyy sea snake? Did ya see how those Royal Academy boys were lookin at shrimpyyy? Looks like shrimpy’s got more fans than usss~” Floyd’s teasing tone made Jamil have to take deep breaths, trying to calm himself which he was almost able to until Ace’s snarky voice added in.

“Ha! I bet they’d die for a chance with you (y/n), better make them know you’re dating Jamil. Don’t want her to get taken as a Royal Academy cheerleader~” oh that was it. A low growl came from Jamil as he dragged you out of the gym, leaving behind a laughing Floyd and Ace along with the other team members looking confused.

“J-Jamil where are we going? Everyone is still in the-“ 

“You’re mine (y/n). Mine only. And I want to make sure everyone knows” in an instant, your chest was pressed against the wall as you felt yourself sandwiched between it and Jamil, his hand slipping under the crop top and groping your breasts. His voice was barely above a whisper in your ear, the sound of it causing shivers to roll down your spine,

“I bet you liked the attention, right? Liked having other guys ogle you? Don’t worry, I’ll make sure they all stare~” his hands made quick work of the cheer uniform, tossing both the skirt and shirt to the ground and leaving you in the panties and bra you had on underneath. Your breath hitched in your throat as he pulled his jersey off and dropped it atop your uniform.

God, proof of how hard he worked at those practices was on display for your eyes to hungrily take in. His hands push your panties to the side as you are distracted by his abs, a finger pressing deep inside you making your breath hitch. His finger moved fast and soon one became two as he scissored your now dripping cunt open, stretching you for him as he felt his shorts tighten. Once he felt you were sufficiently stretched, he removed his fingers and chuckled at your soft whines from the loss of something inside of you. His shorts joined yours as he wrapped your legs around his waist, rubbing his cock up and down your slick folds and teasing his tip at the entrance. 

“P-please Jamil please I need you!” Your voice held a soft whine, making his smirk widen as he left hickeys along your neck, removing your bra to access your breasts as well and leaving marks along the sensitive skin

“Oh? Do you really need me that badly? So goddamn needy, you wanna risk someone hearing us?” The soft moan you let out confirmed to him that even just the idea you *could* get caught had turned you on and, with that, he pressed the tip of his cock into your cunt with a grunt. Barely giving you time to adjust, he quickly bottomed out with only a few thrusts.

“There, that enough for you princess? So goddamn horny, just for me. Such a good little slut, wanting everyone to hear you call my name~” Jamil’s voice in your ear, so soft and sensual with his degrading comments just made your cunt clench around him, eliciting another groan of pleasure. Your soft begs for him to move soon faded to moans of pleasure as he started off rough right away, his hips slamming against yours and the sound of skin slapping filling the once silent halls. The brutal pace didn’t let up, not even as your head was thrown back from the pleasure and the knot forming in your stomach. 

���Good little slut, so loud for me~ telling everyone who owns you” each word was emphasized with another hard thrust, his cock hitting that one spot that made you see stars and, before you could warn him, your fluttering walls convulsed around him as the knot in your stomach snapped. Fucking you through your orgasm, Jamil’s pace didn’t let up until hot ropes of his cum shot deep into you.

The two of you stood there panting, both coming down from your highs, basking in that post sex glow you always seemed to have. That moment, however, was interrupted by something that turned you both into blushing messes, 

“God really? You two couldn’t have waited until getting to a bathroom at least?” Ace’s annoyed and embarrassed voice rang through your ears as you two turned to see him covering his blushing face and refusing to look either of you two in the eyes.

“Well, hopefully you’ve learnt not to make me jealous Ace, take this as a lesson” Jamil’s smug smirk returned to his face as the former muttered a quick ‘fuck you’ before walking past you two quickly

Returning his attention to you, Jamil leaned to whisper once more in your ear

“wanna go for a second round~?”

[drawsmaddy]

[ID: A digital drawing of Keyleth and Orym from Critical Role. They're both wearing modern clothing and Orym is taking a photo of Keyleth on a smartphone. Keyleth is wearing a pair of jeans with floral embroidery on the sides and a cropped white tank top. She's holding a drinks can in her right hand and holding up her left hand in a peace sign and looking towards Orym's phone camera. Orym is holding his phone up and wearing a tight fitting short sleeved black top with a green tank top over the top. End description.]

A kofi doodle request for @xombigirl!

You can request a doodle yourself here!

[chic-a-gigot]

La Mode nationale, no. 22, 5 juin 1897, Paris. No. 14. — Petite mante. No. 17. — Mante. No. 21. — Collet mante. No. 23. — Mante. Bibliothèque nationale de France

No. 14. — Petite mante en soie brochée rose sur beige, froncée sur les épaules et remonte dans le haut par un collet formé par des feuilles de satin noir, avec broderies de jais en dessus, petite dentelle autour des feuilles, autour du cou grosse ruche retenue par une draperie de mousseline de soie enroulée et nouée en gros nœuds sur les côtés.

No. 14. — Small pink-on-beige embroidered silk mantle, gathered on the shoulders and raised at the top by a collar formed by black satin leaves, with jet embroidery above, small lace around the leaves, around the neck large ruffle held by a drapery of silk muslin rolled up and tied in large knots on the sides.

—

No. 17. — Mante de drap gris allant plus bas que la taille, montée sur un col Médicis doublé de dentelle blanche; devant, longs revers brodés de soutache noire, même broderie dans le dos.

No. 17. — Gray cloth mantle reaching below the waist, mounted on a Medici collar lined with white lace; front, long lapels embroidered with black soutache, same embroidery on the back.

—

No. 21. — Collet mante de soie brochée vert amande et rouge montée sur haut col Médicis doublée de dentelle; dans le bas, ceinture corselet à revers faisant la mante courte sur le devant.

No. 21. — Collar of almond green and red embroidered silk mantle mounted on a high Medici collar lined with lace; at the bottom, corselet belt with cuffs making the short mantle on the front.

—

No. 23. — Mante de satin vert bouteille montée sur col Médicis, coupé de créneaux doublés de pattes de velours noir, mante à pointes devant et dans le dos, avec grands revers de velours.

No. 23. — Bottle green satin mantle mounted on a Medici collar, cut with crenellations lined with black velvet tabs, pointed mantle in front and back, with large velvet lapels.

[venusianpulp]

Rising Sign & Your Perfect Festival Outfit

Here are the perfect any music festival outfits for each of the 12 zodiac signs and Ascendants, with details on color schemes, materials, accents, and overall aesthetics:

PSA: Images and descriptions are both complimentary, so they may not be entirely identical, but everything is relevent.

Aries Rising: Bold and daring, an Aries rising would rock a fiery red crop top paired with high-waisted denim shorts. Accessorize with a black leather choker, combat boots, and a statement belt. The outfit screams confidence and adventure.

Taurus Rising: Earthy and sensual, a Taurus rising would opt for a flowy, bohemian-style maxi dress in shades of green and brown. Pair with a leather fringe vest, ankle boots, and a wide-brimmed hat. The outfit exudes comfort and laid-back elegance.

Gemini Rising: Playful and eclectic, a Gemini rising would mix and match patterns and colors. A graphic tee paired with a colorful, patterned skirt, fishnet stockings, and high-top sneakers. Accessorize with layered necklaces and quirky sunglasses for a fun, youthful vibe.

Cancer Rising: Soft and feminine, a Cancer rising would choose a vintage-inspired, pale blue sundress with delicate lace details. Pair with a cozy, oversized cardigan, ankle-strap sandals, and a small, cross-body bag. The outfit radiates comfort and nostalgia.

Leo Rising: Bold and dramatic, a Leo rising would make a statement in a metallic gold romper with a plunging neckline. Accessorize with a chunky, gold chain necklace, oversized sunglasses, and platform heels. The outfit screams glamour and confidence.

Virgo Rising: Clean and practical, a Virgo rising would opt for a crisp, white button-down shirt tucked into high-waisted, black denim shorts. Pair with a black leather belt, minimalist jewelry, and comfortable, low-top sneakers. The outfit is polished and effortlessly chic.

Libra Rising: Elegant and balanced, a Libra rising would choose a flowy, pastel pink maxi skirt paired with a white, off-the-shoulder crop top. Accessorize with delicate, gold jewelry, strappy sandals, and a woven clutch. The outfit is feminine and harmonious.

Scorpio Rising: Mysterious and alluring, a Scorpio rising would opt for a black, lace bodysuit paired with high-waisted, faux leather leggings. Layer with a sheer, black kimono, and accessorize with a choker, ankle boots, and a dark, smoky eye. The outfit is seductive and intense.

Sagittarius Rising: Adventurous and free-spirited, a Sagittarius rising would rock a tie-dye, cropped t-shirt paired with distressed, cut-off denim shorts. Accessorize with a woven, multicolored belt, layered anklets, and gladiator sandals. The outfit is playful and adventurous.

Capricorn Rising: Classic and sophisticated, a Capricorn rising would choose a sleek, solid & colored co-ord with a structured, cinched waist. Pair with knee high or thigh high black boots or dainty shoes, minimalist jewelry, and subtly refined look. The outfit is timeless and powerful.

Aquarius Rising: Unique and unconventional, an Aquarius rising would opt for a holographic, iridescent bodysuit paired with high-waisted, flared pants. Accessorize with a chunky, silver choker, platform boots, and a brightly colored, faux fur coat. The outfit is futuristic and eccentric.

Pisces Rising: Dreamy and ethereal, a Pisces rising would choose a flowy, sheer, pastel purple maxi dress with delicate, floral embroidery. Layer with a soft, crochet cardigan, and accessorize with a flower crown, layered, beaded necklaces, and strappy, barefoot sandals. The outfit is whimsical and enchanting.

[gogogodzilla]

✧ 𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝟚𝟠: 𝑆𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑟 ✧

【 𝑆𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑜𝑓 𝑆𝑖𝑛 】

╰› 〖 𝑆𝑦𝑛𝑜𝑝𝑠𝑖𝑠 〗: Going undercover at a strip club has its benefits, especially if Bigby is in the audience

╰› 〖 𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 〗: nsfw 18+, dry humping, blow job, plot w/ porn, a bit of cock worship, red riding hood!reader, one (1) instance of dirty talk, teasing

✧ 𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑘𝑡𝑜𝑏𝑒𝑟 𝑚.𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ✧ 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑜𝑛 𝑎𝑜3 ✧ 𝑤𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑝𝑎𝑑 ✧

“How will I know it’s you?” he asked as you stood outside the club, watching as patrons entered. 

The bright neon pink sign buzzed above the two of you, and your high heels scraped against the pavement as you shifted on your feet. 

You tilt your head to look at him, “You’ll know.” 

He raised a brow, wondering what exactly you had up your sleeve tonight. “Just try not to make a scene,” he grunted, lighting a cigarette and bringing it to his lips. 

You scoffed, “That’s rich coming from you. I’ll see you on the inside.” 

He watched as you entered the club, duffle bag in hand. The plan was simple: get in, grab the right person’s attention, get some dirt on said person, and hightail it out of there. 

Simple. 

Bigby took his place at the bar and waited for you to make your appearance. He watched as the man you were after, a sleazebag named Harvey, sat at one of the private tables, far away from the bustle of the crowd but with a perfect view of the stage. His dark eyes surveyed the dance floor and he pulled a cigar out of his suit jacket.  Various girls came onto the stage, dancing to one song or the next. Bigby watched as Harvey motioned with his hand and some of the better, prettier dancers were led to his table. 

A low murmur of interest rippled throughout the crowd as the lights dimmed further, casting the stage in an almost otherworldly glow. The DJ announced something about a “special guest,” and Bigby felt his eyes drawn to the stage, his curiosity piqued by the sudden change of atmosphere. 

A slow, sultry song filtered through the speakers as a spotlight illuminated the curtains as they parted. The audience let out an eager murmur as the dancer stepped onto the stage, their heels clicking against the floor. The dancer was draped in a rich, velvety crimson cloak that cascaded over their form like a river of blood. It caught the light in waves, almost liquid in the way it moved with each graceful step. The edges were lines with subtle, intricate embroidery that Bigby hadn't seen in what felt like eons. He could almost feel the stitching under his fingertips and the velvet slipping through his grasp. 

He inhaled, and his heart skipped a beat in his chest. He’d know that scent anywhere. 

You pulled back your hood, revealing the lacy mask on your face, and his suspicions were confirmed. You walked with confidence, every movement controlled and calculated. There’s an edge to your posture as you near the edge of the stage— something playful, almost dangerous. You glanced his way — just a flash of your gaze but he caught it. 

You turn your back to the crowd and reach up, slowly undoing the ties on your cape. Whistles and cheers erupted from the crowd as your cape fell from your shoulders, revealing a fitted corset and short skirt, deep red against your skin.

Heat climbed into his chest and nestled between his ribs as you dragged your hand up the pole at the end of the stage. His eyes were fixed on you, watching every flick of your wrist and twirl of your form around the pole. A rumble of jealousy, hot and primal, crawled up his spine at the way the other patrons stared at you. 

A low growl built in his chest as you crawled near the edge of the stage and leaned down, your face close enough for your breath to brush against the patron in front of you. The patron’s eyes wandered everywhere but your face as he shoved a few dollars into the top of your corset. He swallowed hard, gripping the glass in his hand so hard he was surprised it didn’t shatter in his hand. 

You finished your dance with a graceful spin, a final teasing flash of red before you turned to exit the stage. Bigby watched as Harvey nodded his head to one of the bouncers, who then disappeared backstage to find you. 

You walked the floor with grace, and the crowd seemed to move as one as you cut your way through, following the bouncer to Harvey’s table. You held out your knuckles for him to kiss, and he did, his lips lingering for a second longer than necessary. 

You played your part to perfection, a coy smile gracing your features as you leaned in to whisper something against Harvey’s ear earning a chuckle from him. He looked too pleased with himself, oblivious to the way you were toying with him. You reached out, resting your hand gently on his arm, and he could tell by the tilt of your head and the innocent look in your eyes that you were digging for information. 

Harvey’s fingers trailed down your arm and rested on your thigh as he hooked a finger into the frilly garter around your thigh. Bigby pushed off of the bar, ready to intervene, but the nearly imperceptible shake of your head stopped him in his tracks. He shifted on his feet, breathing through his nose as he attempted to quell the rage that threatened to spill over. He settled for perching on one of the chairs near Harvey’s table, close enough to keep an eye on you but not too close that it’s suspicious. 

Finally, you rose from the table, slipping out of Harvey’s grasp, not quite fast enough to avoid Harvey smacking your ass as you walked away. Bigby’s nails dug into the armrest of the chair, his nails poking holes in the smooth leather. You circled the room, your hips swaying to the beat of the music as you made your way to Bigby's chair. 

Your fingers trailed across his shoulders as you rounded his chair. You leaned down, meeting his gaze for the first time that night. 

“Wolf,” you whispered, grinning, “care to go somewhere a bit more private?”

Bigby was acutely aware of the eyes lingering on the two of you, various patrons sneering at your choice. He nodded, and you took his hand in yours before leading him to a back hallway with various rooms with a chair and a heavy velvet curtain in front of them. 

You nudged him towards a chair before shutting the curtain behind you.  You slid into his lap as the music changed to a slow, sultry beat. You looped your arms around his neck, your fingers brushing lightly against his skin. Your scent was distracting enough, combined with your touch against his skin was a death sentence. 

“Could’ve warned me about the outfit,” he grunted, attempting to hide the strain in his voice. He could feel the warmth of your breath against his neck as you leaned close, your lips brushing against the shell of his ear. His resolve was crumbling with each second, and his cock twitched in his pants. 

“Didn’t want to ruin the surprise,” you replied, your voice soft. 

His hands settled on your waist, holding you steady as you swayed to the beat, keeping up the appearance of a private dance should anyone walk in on you. 

He leaned his head back to look up at you, “You sure he bought it?”

You smirked, “Hook, line, and sinker. Pretty sure he even offered me a job.” 

Bigby snorted, a reluctant smile forming on his lips. “You’d hate the hours.” 

You laughed, your eyes meeting his. For a moment, the job was long forgotten and all he cared about was his half-naked partner on his lap. It was just the two of you, locked in a silent battle of wills. 

Your fingers skimmed up to his collar, toying with it for a moment before you leaned down, your lips brushing his in a tentative kiss. That was all it took for any ounce of control he had to slip out of his grasp faster than he could contain it. 

He ran a hand over the bare skin of your thigh before moving to cup the curve of your ass. You grind your hips against him, the tent in his pants brushing against your clothed core earning a groan from both of you. 

Your hands wandered over his chest as your hips continued to roll over his, ensnaring his rigid cock between the plush of your thighs. He pulled away to lean his head back against the cool leather of the seat, his eyes fluttering shut as you attached your lips to the column of his neck. 

He groaned as you latched your lips onto his pulse point, your tongue running over the skin there. You reached down to fumble the buttons of his shirt, and each roll of your hips equaled another one of his buttons undone. He tangled his fingers in the hair at the nape of your neck, bringing you impossibly closer and inhaling your scent. 

You dragged your fingers over the flushed skin of his chest as you leaned back, taking in the sight before you. Bigby didn’t doubt that he looked like something to behold, hair messy and shirt half undone with blossoming hickies littering his neck. 

His chest heaved as he looked up at you like you hung all the stars in the sky. You’d be the death of him, but he’d die a happy man. 

You slid off of his lap, and the loss of your skin against his nearly brought a tear to his eye. One of your hands trailed down his chest and rested on his belt buckle. His hips jutted into the open air as you gave his buckle a slight tug before sinking to your knees in front of him. 

“What are you—”

He was cut off by your hands raking up his thighs. You dragged your fingertips over the straining tent in his pants, and he flushed at the wet spot that had begun to form. Slowly, agonizingly, you undid his belt buckle, and he tucked his bottom lip into his teeth, stifling a strangled groan. 

He was still as you popped the button on his pants, watching you with rapt attention. You tugged down his zipper and your fingers dipped under the waistband of his briefs. He hissed you freed his cock from its confines, and it bounced painfully hard against his abdomen. The cool air of the club did little to quell the heat simmering under his skin. 

You were otherworldly as you finally touched him, sultry and completely in control. He could’ve come from your gaze alone. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips and he instinctively bucked his hips. His cheeks flushed as you looked up at him with a devilish grin. 

You ran a thumb over the sensitive head of his cock, spreading the precum that had dripped out. He let out a shaky whine as he white-knuckled the arms of the chair. You stroked him faster, squeezing lightly and adding a twist of your wrist that had him arching against the chair. 

He couldn’t fight the drawn-out groan that left him as you peppered featherlight kisses against his length before fully taking him in your mouth. You swirled your tongue around the head of his cock and he nearly came there and then. 

“Ah— fuck, doll,” he whimpered, meeting your gaze. 

You let out a satisfied noise as you bobbed your head a few times, steadily taking more and more of him while your hands stroked what your mouth couldn’t reach. Bigby let out a strangled growl as his lengthened nails dug into the chair and even more hair littered his chest. 

He attempted to reign in any sliver of control he could manage, but your lips against his cock was making it increasingly harder and harder to concentrate on anything else. You hollowed your cheeks around him, taking him deeper than before. 

He rutted his hips against your mouth, meeting each bob of your head. He was hilted deeply inside you when he came, forcing his seed down your waiting throat. You greedily slurped everything he’d give to you, but, still, some dribbled down the sides of your mouth. 

You pulled off of his cock with a ‘pop,’ and you were left with tear-stained cheeks and traces of Bigby glistening over your mouth. He leaned down and trapped your lips in his. The ferocity of it nearly sent you tumbling over but his hand cradled the back of your head, keeping you firmly in place. 

He was never good with words, and he hoped his actions spoke louder than anything that could leave his lips. His raised canines dug into your lips, and you moaned against him. 

“Y’know,” you murmur, pulling away with a grin, “you’re technically not supposed to touch the dancers.” 

He grunted, “You started it, doll.”