#the construction of this dress is actually very good

[badassindistress]

The rain is already washing the snow away so I will not be emerging from my lair for the rest of the day. Instead I'll be tailoring this dress my sister handed down to me to fit me. To do:

Ironing

Seamripping and lowering the hem

Taking in the seams at the back

Adding pockets to the sideseams

Maybe changing the neckline? We'll see how I feel

Let's see if I can make this a one day project!

[chiropteracupola]

another silly little portrait

[ofcowardiceandkings]

[sits on the floor]

im wamt to draw cute smooshy fings but i have feelings about stuff

[underwaterspaghetti314]

So I’ve brought up my femboy maid outfit a few times on this blog because none of you people know who I am irl, but the friends who know of it in real life are sworn to secrecy about it. However, one of them is really bad at this. I’m now beginning to accept that him fucking up and accidentally telling them about it is the official signal that they’re now in the close friend group. Whenever he mentions it it’s because he forgot they didn’t already know, and everyone he’s brought it up to are people who I also kind of forget don’t already know about it, so for now it’s cool. And it’s also funny every time it gets brought up because he lets it slip in passing, and then there’s a brief moment of realization where either one of those who don’t know questions it followed by a moment of intense albeit comical “OH NO,” followed by a very humorous explanation. It’s a laugh riot.

Then there’s the other friend. She only let it slip to one person, but I don’t talk to that person enough to know if I trust her on it. So far none of her friends have brought it up to me and neither has she, so she’s probably fine actually and I just panicked at the time but still. Also, one of the earliest conversations I had with her was about how she was icked by seeing her ex wearing “a maid outfit and cat ears” on his instagram. She was one of two people who I said could never under any circumstances know about this dress because of that story, and now she knows full damn well that I, much like that dude, own a maid dress and cat ears and have worn it not once, but TWICE!! ALSO I WASN’T EVEN THERE WHEN SHE FOUND OUT!!! I HAVE NO CLUE WHAT WAS SAID!!! I’m probably concerned over nothing! There seems to be a mutual agreement among those who are friends with her that she’s entirely forgotten by now, and she certainly hasn’t been acting weird to me about it, so that’s nice. She’s actually been acting pretty cool! BUT STILL!! AAAAH!!!

Oh also the two people who found out tonight said I looked good in it after being shown pictures, so that was a huge W for me. I knew I looked good in that dress.

[nonasuch]

IT IS TIME: Miss Universe National Costume 2023

it's here! the Met Gala for people who actually understand what camp is!

yes I'm like 3 months late, but I sat down and watched the damn thing. I put up with the horrible little rhyming couplets for each contestant so you don't have to. and without further ado:

Albania: Starting off very Victoria’s Secret this year! Apparently it’s gold for important symbolism reasons, not just because everything in this competition is blinged out to within an inch of its life. The wings do look nice in motion!

Angola has a good balance of bling, actual cultural dress, and oh hey it has surprise bonus art on the back! That will be a theme this year.

Argentina: Why is there a guy in a hat right down at the bottom edge of her cape. He looks like he’s staring at her butt. How does this represent their flag.

Aruba: This is fine. I like the coral. She thinks climate change is bad. Her parrot is clearly way too heavy to hold up and it wobbles like crazy in motion.

Australia: This is now multiple years in a row that Australia has just worn a fucking prom dress. It’s got native wildflowers on. You could have made this exact same dress with a Great Barrier Reef theme and I would have liked it 80% more.

Bahamas: This costume is allegedly based on a 19th-century doll from the Bahamas “world famous straw market,” which is already bullshit; I googled “bahamas straw market antique doll” and like. they both have big skirts? I guess? Anyway now I’m too distracted by the way she has a hoop skirt awkwardly jammed under there and hiked up on one side. Minus ten for poor construction.

Bahrain's theme is “Bahrain’s pearl heritage,” which like. I guess? The headdress and yoke are pretty. Put more pearls on the actual outfit. Kudos for getting to wear pants.

Belgium: Girl. No. Why is your theme “Latin dance” and why are you wearing a spangly cocktail dress with a totally unrelated piece of fabric fluttering behind it? (Apparently the fabric was designed by a member of Belgium’s royal family? Who is a fashion designer? This is what nepotism gets you.)

Bolivia saw Aruba’s parrot and was like, I can do that better. And she was right! It’s way less wobbly and the costume as a whole does work better. Also made from recycled materials, so we’ll see if that’s a theme again this year. The back of the cape is nice too.

Sadly, Bolivia's parrot supremacy was short-lived, because Brazil was like, bitch please. I see your sad little parrots and raise you FOUR giant parrots, and also the shoulder parrots are articulated and can turn their heads back and forth. I think Brazil wins the parrot competition that only she knew she was in.

[authorhjk1]

Dreamy Pink

(Shin Ryujin X Male Reader)

By @i-am-lifeform24

“The pink one is Ryujin being an actual princess (haven't decided on the time period yet). This one is completely the opposite to the black one. Here is Ryujin in control. And her advisor is the guy she uses when she needs to get off.” - Inspiration quote from @authorhjk1

“No.”

“Your highness, they are all very accomplished, winners of multiple wars!”

“Accomplished, but ugly. No.”

“Princess, these nations have stood with us for centuries. Surely you can think it o-”

Ryujin stares down the impassioned minister, crossing her arms, her pink, flowing dress sparkling as she looks up at the man from across the round table. “I see no reason why I have to do anything, minister. I will not be marrying any of these slimy men.”

You sigh, shooting the old man an apologetic glance as the other members of the council fidget in their seats. The princess has always been… difficult. Even standing behind her, you can feel how uncomfortable the room is getting. Funny, that all the most powerful lords and ladies of the country can’t get through to a much younger girl.

Steeling yourself, you take a step forward, “My apologies, minister, perhaps the princess misunderstands.” Ryujin’s catlike eyes dart left, the princess giving you a warning, shifting her lithe body in the pink mass of cotton so she can better stare up at you. You can feel the other members of the table hold their breath. Here it comes.

“Misunderstand what exactly, advisor?” Her voice is icy, pointed, like she can’t imagine why you would say something so stupid. Well, it is your job after all, and whether she likes it or not, you were put in this position to keep her in check, so keep her in check you will.

“That while you are the most beautiful princess on the continent, you are also the leader of the most powerful country on this side of the world.” You start, gesturing to the other nobles of the table. They straighten up, morning sunlight peeking through stained glass to illuminate their battle-worn features, as if they’ve broken free from the spell of a very bratty princess.

Ryujin raises her eyebrow at you, slightly nodding for you to go on. You watch her dress shine in the soft light, taking a deep breath, “You have to at least listen their proposals out. Agree to the minister’s plan to let the princes visit you.”

Ryujin scoffs, “I don’t want their mud on my floors. This castle was built by my father, and you want to bring these grungy foreigners here? To my paradise?”

You lean forward, and Ryujin’s eyes widen as your strong voice echoes throughout the ornate chamber, “A paradise built by alliances. Strong, long-lasting, powerful alliances. Do you believe that your honorable parents fell in love by the grace of God, your highness?”

Ryujin’s eyes narrow, and the whole room holds its breath. You glance at the minister across the table, the man slowly sitting back down, eyes wide, his robes shifting as he tries to sneak back into his seat. Your heart catches in your throat. It’s never a good idea to mention the late King and Queen in front of her.

Maybe if you apologize before it sets in, she’ll forgive you. You meet Ryujin’s gaze, stammering, ‘N-not to say that your parents were without grace. I’m sure that they would be very proud of you, your high-“

“You’re right.”

Wait, what?

Ryujin smiles at you, her dark eyes crinkling as she exhales, breaking her stare. She turns back to the council. “My Advisor is right. I apologize for my own lack of foresight in the matter of my engagement. Minister, let it be know that I will receive these… princes. I will leave the details up to you.”

“A…. A wise choice, your highness! We shall begin constructing the plans right away.” The old man shoots up with a wide smile, the other council members filling the room with excited applause. You look down at Ryujin, and the princess cracks a smirk at you, as if her jolt of anger was all one big, convoluted, prank.

You gulp, giving her a quick smirk back, stepping behind the sovereign’s large makeshift throne as the council chatters on. Ryujin straightens her back, adjusting her tiara to sit on perfectly on her neatly combed locks. Here, at the head of the table, she almost seems like a real ruler, not an aggressive orphan made to reign way too early.

Soon, the meeting concludes, and you find yourself at the large mahogany bowing to every council member that takes their leave. “Thank you, duchess. And yes, we will make sure that the princess attends your name day celebration!” You lean forward, holding the gloved hand of an older woman, the smile lines on her cheeks deepening as you smile at her. She leans beside your ear, letting the other nobles pass behind her, “Thank the Lord for you, advisor. The poor girl barely has things together as it is…” You straighten, giving the older woman a sideways grin, “Now that’s our sovereign you are talking about, duchess, with how large the kingdom is, I would say that she is doing much better than any of us could.”

The duchess opens her mouth to respond, “Oh no advisor, i’m sure….” Suddenly, her eyes widen, staring at the doorway behind you, and she trails off. “Nevermind! I shall see you on Saturday. Your highness.” She curtsies, and you turn around, just in time to see Ryujin, with her guards flanking her, and her arms across her chest.

“P-princess! I apologize, I'm blocking your way.” You start, stepping aside in an ill attempt to escape. With a bang, the large doors swing shut, and the guards shift uneasily as Ryujin grabs you by the ear and pulls you along the hallway.

“Ow! Princess! I was just escorting the duchess out! I didn’t mean anything by-” You grimace, the sharp pain coursing through your body as she drags you past ornate paintings and ancient keepsakes. The royal is surprisingly strong, her long legs strutting confidently on the velvet carpet. You wonder what set her off this time. She handled the meeting well, really, really well. If anything, you’re more than proud that she managed to avoid exploding at the council, or at you, for once, so what could she possibly want with you now.

Eventually, the thump of her heels on the soft flooring stops, and you find yourself in front of a large, gilded door. The guards follow closely behind, gloves gripping the hilts of their swords tightly as Ryujin addresses them. “Leave us, now. And make sure that none enter this wing for the next few hours. I will have a few words with my advisor.”

You shoot a pleading look at the knights, almost feeling their pity through their plated armor. ‘Sorry, boss. We’ll make it up to you.’ they seem to say, bowing quickly before marching away to the entrance of the castle wing. God, you’ve really done it now.

Ryujin drags you inside, not wasting a second, pushing you up against the warm wood. Your breath catches in your throat, the messy, victorian style bedroom a lazy backdrop to the princess’ intense stare. She pushes her covered breasts onto your chest. Arms, they stay pinned at your side, like she’s pressing a painting into a wall. Ryujin slowly cranes her lips beside your ear, “I barely have things together?”

You gulp, heart catching in your throat as you look down at the beautiful woman. Her gaze is icy, hands slowly rubbing the outside of your trousers. “P-princess, the duchess simply worries for you, we don’t have to do this again.” you squeak, like a mouse, hunted by this very turned on, catlike royal.

Ryujin does nothing but smirk, pulling your underwear down quickly, dropping to her knees as the cold morning air wraps around your erect member. Your hands slowly droop down, but you stay plastered on the wood, like she’s still pinning you there, like her body is still on you.

“Heavy. Good. You’re filling me up today.” The princess cups your balls, her fingers dribbling against the puckered skin as she squints up at you. Amidst short breaths, you can’t help but marvel at how the orange-yellow light glazes her skin, the thin, pink fabric of her dress covered in dark spots as Ryujin’s wetness spreads from her legs. She’s beautiful, and after that disaster of a meeting, she needs a way to relieve her stress.

Ryujin’s tongue darts out, teasing the leaking tip of your cockhead as she grips you by your base, “Hey.” Informal. Casual. Crude. She looks up into your eyes, and you stare back down at her, sweat forming on your forehead as you can’t help but throb in her soft hands. “Yes, princess?” you reply, your voice breathy.

Her gaze softens, her eyes now half-lidded as she slowly licks up the length of your shaft. Her dress has creeped up her thighs at this point, and you can’t help but notice her bare pussy lips in between her kneeling legs. Ryujin stares at you, a firm warning exiting her precum smeared lips, “Don’t ever embarrass me again… daddy.”

You harden at the words, wanting nothing more than to grab the princess by the neck and throw her onto the bed. Ryujin can tell, making a show out of keeping one hand jerking on your cock, while the other pulls her dress down her breasts, the mink revealing perfect, perky breasts.

She smiles, “I’m going to drain you now, and you don’t get to cum until I say so, alright?” Ryujin accentuates the last word with a kiss on your cockhead, the skin wet with her spit. You give her a slow nod, gritting your teeth. She’s asking you for the impossible.

But she’s also your princess. You are sworn to her.

“Yes… your highness.” You croak out the words as Ryujin smirks at you, “Good daddy, now come to bed, i’m riding you until you fill me with your seed.”

You stumble forward, watching as your princess sauntily sways her now naked hips. No undergarments in the council meeting? You’d have ot tell her off later, but in the meantime, the idea only does more to keep your cock hard and ready. Her pink dress stays bunched up around her tight waist, and you watch as her ass sways in the morning light, the dresses and books strewed around the floor nothing but obstacles for her long, supple legs.

Ryujin crawls onto the bed, peeling the rest of the pink fabric off her body, then kneeling on her heels as she crosses her arms, “Faster, daddy. I have a kingdom to run.”

Hastily, you strip, sitting on the edge of the bed, then swinging your legs so they are on either side of the kneeling girl. You’re careful not to meet her eyes. No matter how turned on you are, she’s in charge.

Soon, you’re lying down on your back, the expensive, gold patterned furs digging into the small of your back as your princess straddles you. Ryujin’s hair falls around her face in the soft yellow light, and you watch as her petite tits rise and fall, the princess grabbing you by the shaft, your cockhead rubbing against her pussy lips as she stares down at you.

Her eyes roll back into her head, “God, daddy, if only that old hag could watch me handle this.

“Fuck!” You groan. With a slap, the princess’ ass bounces on your thighs as she roughly takes you to the hilt. She’s always rough, calling you daddy even if you’re her toy, but a part of you loves it, loves letting her take control, loves letting the princess, in a twisted way, worship you with her body.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Ryujin moans, grabbing handfuls of the blankets around her as she bounces on your cock. You feel her walls get accustomed to you, the tightness suffocating, wringing you in a wet embrace.

You look up. She’s not even looking at you. Her Tiara stays skewed on her head, her breasts jumping with every bounce, her small hands resting on your thighs as the princess arches her back, gyrating her hips onto your waiting cock.

“P-princess, it’s so good.” You moan, hands reaching down to grab her soaked ass.

A slap resounds through the large room. “Don’t you dare. You don’t get to touch me until I milk you dry, daddy.” Ryujin warns, her tongue coming out of her moaning mouth as she slaps your hands away, continuing her impassioned ride.

You give up, resorting to grabbing handfuls of cloth, watching as your beloved princess cums on your cock, over and over again, her breasts lathered in sweat, her taut stomach rippling under the force of her bouncing.

Ryujin opens one eye, panting, to grab you by the neck, “Kiss me, daddy…” You hesitate for a moment, wishing to savor the feeling of her drawing circles on your crotch, the glorious sensation of her royal pussy grasping onto every ridge of your unworthy cock, but in the end, you sit up.

“You’re beautiful, princess… please, i’m so close.” You beg, letting the girl hold you by the cheeks as your tongue explores her mouth, her hips still riding you, albeit slower, more deliberate, as if she wants to savor every moment too.

Ryujin looks up at you, her dark eyes mesmerizing as you feel the blankets shift. “Here, you belong to me… all your cum, daddy… it belongs to me…” She whispers slowly, pausing to grimace, as if your cock is somehow surprising her with pleasure after all these trysts.

You exhale, feeling it bubble in your core. Something about your aloof, icy princess demanding for you, demanding for your seed, burns all thoughts of stopping away. You need to cum in her, now.

Your lips find Ryujin’s neck, sucking on her clear, unblemished skin as your rough hands find her ass. This time, she doesn’t turn you away, the princess’ smile only getting bigger, as if she’s been waiting for you to take charge.

”Mmm, fuck! Fuck! Breed me! Breed your princess!” Ryujin screams, her hips now still as you fuck into her fast and hard. She’s sitting on your lap now, your chests pushed together, her breasts warm as you hammer into the royal’s pussy.

“Y-yes princess! It’s coming!” You grit your teeth, focusing on delaying your release for as long as you can, until the princess wraps her long legs around you, rocking her pussy lips on the base of your crotch. “Oh… oh! Daddy!” Ryujin groans, grinding her pussy onto you, not allowing you to thrust, her walls clenching, begging for your seed as she pins you down with the flower between her legs.

“I’m coming!” You roar, kissing Ryujin’s jaw as the princess’ eyes shoot open. She moans loudly as you fill her, your hot, virile cum making her body relax. You feel her in your arms, her tits shaking, her ass trembling as you fill the next in line to the throne with your seed.

It’s almost comical, that she’d get so frustrated with a stupid meeting, that this.is the only way she could relax.

Hey, you’re not complaining, sighing as Ryujin topples onto your chest, her hot, deep breaths in your ear her pussy still milking the last dribbles of cum from your cock.

You look down at her with a grin, “Is that all for this morning, your highness?”

Ryujin rolls her eyes, nestling into the crook of your neck, the fur blankets around you damp with the heat of your sex. “Mmm,..”

She flips you over, her legs spreading as you crouch above her, your cock exiting her pussy with a pop. Ryujin smiles, “No, daddy. This time, you’re going to use me.”

You smile, watching her bite her lip as the morning light fades. “As you wish, your highness.”

----------

Hi everyone!

This chapter was written by @i-am-lifeform24 . Thank you so much for the great chapter!

I hope you guys enjoy reading it.

Stay healthy!

[vincentbriggs]

Here are some (not very good) photos of me wearing it! I'll have to get some better ones at my parents house later, because there is absolutely no good space to take photos in my apartment. I don't have any other 1830's things to go with it, and don't currently have plans to make any. I just wanted this dressing gown specifically.

Anyways! There are 6,957 triangles, all sewn together by machine, but most of the actual garment construction is by hand. The unevenness from all the patchwork seam allowances made it very fussy, and the tailoring took at least twice as long as it would have in a normal fabric. The velvet was also a challenge, being the soft drapey wobbly kind, but I managed. I accidentally made my triangles a bit smaller than the ones on the original (C. 1835, Powerhouse Museum collection.) which means there are more triangles than there had to be, but that's ok. I really enjoyed doing the patchwork, it's the most wonderfully soothing brainless task ever and I will definitely make more patchwork things.

I'm very happy with how it turned out! It's comfortable and fits pretty well, and is warm but not excessively so.

I kept timesheets for everything, and I haven't added them up yet, but once I do I'll know exactly how long all of this took.

I also filmed it, but the youtube video won't be out for quite a while, because I still have to write and record some more stuff and then edit a very very very very large amount of clips.

[hp-hcs]

i didn’t realize the riddle brothers were a "buy one get one free" type of deal, but alright — simp! overprotective! yandere! riddle brothers x gn! oblivious! bullied! slytherin! reader

requested by 🎀!

2.5k words, not to brag 😌

i love writing the bros’ interactions with each other as like, actual sibling-core yk? they r just so cutie patootie

the reader's patronus makes an appearance in this, but i tried to make it as accessible to everyone as possible, so it's never explicitly stated what animal it is. it is implied that it’s able-to-fit-under-a-table sized though

also this is totally just pre-slash nothing that interesting happens

warnings: couple mentions of blood, mild descriptions of wounds, implied violence, implied bullying, murder

not edited!! this is my first like, really long fic so constructive criticism is welcome!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

A well-timed shove to the small of your back sent you tumbling down an entire flight of moving stairs. 

You groaned as you hit the bottom, sprawled out on your back on the cold stone floor. You laid there for a moment, winded. You could hear the occupants of a nearby painting titter at your gracefulness (or lack thereof), so you rolled your head to the other side to give them an award winning smile and an unabashed middle finger. 

You could hear them all grumble about kids these days and how I never would’ve treated my elders this way. You just rolled your eyes at their pettiness. 

“Uh…what are you doing?” A decidedly alive voice interrupted your momentary satisfaction.

“Ah- evening, Riddle!” You said cheerily as soon as you recognized the speaker, scrambling to your feet and dusting off your uniform. “Nothing! Just…tripped. Couldn’t see very well in the dark, that’s all.”

Tom blinked, his lips twisted into a frown. “.....Fine. But don’t let me catch you out of bed past curfew again. You’re a Slytherin, for Salazar’s sake. Act like it.”

And that was it. Tom turned on his heel and continued down the hall without another word. Tom Riddle: prefect, teacher’s pet, and obnoxious hardass extraordinaire—he just...let you go, with no threats of detention or loss of house points. 

Huh. 

~~~

Tom, having just returned from a full night’s shift of prefect hall duty, flopped face-down onto his bed, his cheeks aflame as he let out a muffled shriek into his pillow. 

His brother, in the process of getting dressed for the day, paused at the scene in front of him. 

“Dude, what’s your deal?” 

“L/n,” Tom said by way of explanation, kicking his feet as he shrieked into his pillow again. “They acknowledged me. And they know my last name.”

“Most people know our last name, Tom,” Mattheo rolled his eyes.

“No- you don’t understand,” Tom said emphatically. “L/n is like…the cutest person to ever exist. And they’re so sweet, and smart, and funny, and-”

“And terrified of us?”

“Well…”

Mattheo rolled his eyes, putting his hands on his hips. “You talk about them too much. It’s getting insufferable.”

Tom just scowled and flicked his fingers to cast a wandless spell that straightened Mattheo’s tie and neatened his uniform. “The way you dress is insufferable. Slob.”

Mattheo stuck out his tongue at his brother before ruffling Tom’s hair to purposely mess it up. “Dick.”

“Idiot.”

~~~

Mattheo glanced up at you as you hovered uncertainly by the corner of his desk. 

“Can I sit here…?” You mumbled shyly, your cheeks flushing as the pretty dark-haired boy in your year smiled up at you.

“Course!” He grinned brightly before realizing that might have been too enthusiastic of a reply for eight in the morning and quickly tried to cover up his slip. “Uh…Y/n, right? I’m Mattheo.”

“Yeah, I know who you are.”

Mattheo’s stomach dropped.

Fuck, that’s not good.

“You let me copy your homework in third year for that essay on the properties of wormwood, or whatever.” You said offhandedly, like it wasn’t batshit insane to remember that pointlessly tiny detail. “Thank you for that, by the way. Potions sucks ass.”

Before Mattheo could even think, the words left his mouth. “I could tutor you if you want.”

You looked at him oddly, but grinned after a second. “Yeah, sure. That’d actually be really helpful. Snape hates me, man.”

“Really? Even though you’re in Slytherin?”

“Mhm, his baseless nepotism only extends so far.”

Mattheo barked out a startled laugh as your deadpan humor caught him off guard. You just grinned at him in response, causing the tips of his ears to immediately burn bright red.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, ducking his head in embarrassment. “Um…do you wanna meet in the library after school today? For our tutoring session,” Mattheo hurriedly added. 

“Sure, alright.” You shrugged. “See you there.”

He beamed, giving you that stupidly adorable grin once more. “Awesome! Yeah- yeah, cool. Awesome. See you there then.”

~~~

You were still shit at potions.

It had been six weeks of tutoring, and you’d learned pretty much nothing. Although, that wasn’t an issue on Mattheo’s part, but rather on his annoyingly hot older brother’s. 

Tom Riddle was surprisingly funny. For someone who gave off almost exclusively stoically austere bastard vibes, he enjoyed cracking jokes and enlisting your help in pulling pranks on his brother a bit too much.

It became your routine. Every Tuesday and Thursday after school, you would meet the two brothers in the library, waste like three hours joking around and getting absolutely no work done, and then going back to your dorm and ranting to your roommate about how fucking cute they are and how you would gladly pay for the opportunity to make out with one- no, both of them. 

(Your roommate is so fucking tired of hearing about the Riddles. You’d better buy them a latte and a cake-pop as an apology.)

~~~

You struggled to get up, your legs giving out. You cursed under your breath, putting a hand to your forehead as it throbbed in pain. 

It came away sticky with blood. 

This wasn’t going to work, you realized belatedly. With what remained of your strength, you were able to reach out and grab your wand, murmuring a quiet, “Expecto Patronum.”

A spectral creature formed in front of your eyes, remaining motionless as it stared at you. 

“Go find Riddle,” you mumbled to the Patronus, your eyelids growing heavy. 

You barely registered the wispy glowing animal immediately bounding off at your instructions, your vision doubling before your body went completely slack, the wand slipping from your fingers and hitting the tile floor with a clatter. 

~~~

Mattheo doodled mindlessly in the margins of his parchment as his brother droned on and on about the properties of willow bark in potions and really, this is important, Mattheo. Pay attention.

“Why isn’t Y/n here yet?” Mattheo asked his brother for the third time. 

Tom rolled his eyes. “I don’t know, Matt. Just like how I didn't know when you asked me five minutes ago. Maybe they just don’t want to see your stupid face any more, huh?”

“What if they’re in trouble? Or hurt?” Mattheo worried, chewing on his thumbnail and ignoring his brother’s insult. “They’re never late, Tommy.”

Tom wrinkled his nose at the use of the dumb (albeit endearing) nickname Mattheo gave him when they were children, but the sinking feeling in his gut at hearing his brother’s distressed tone didn’t help to ease the niggling worries at the back of his mind of maybe they are in trouble.

As if on cue, Mattheo shivered as something icy cold brushed against his ankles. He glanced down. A glowing spectral creature nudged his leg, looking up at him expectantly with unnervingly empty eyes. 

A Patronus. 

Y/n’s Patronus.

~~~

They followed the Patronus down the deserted hall, the animal occasionally pausing to make sure the boys were both still following it before bounding forward again.

The Patronus stopped in front of a bathroom door, giving them both that same unnervingly hollow-eyed stare of expectancy.

Tom gulped and pushed open the door, fearing that he might find the worst.

He did.

~~~

Your eyes cracked open slowly, and you winced at the multitude of stinging and stabbing pains that wracked your body.

You had to blink a couple times for everything to come into focus. You were in a small room with white walls and white flooring, and the gentle dawn illuminated the quiet space with soft rays of light. The steady beep of a vitals monitor faded into the background as you stared down at yourself.

You weren’t wearing a shirt, for one, or even a hospital gown. Pretty much your entire upper torso was wrapped in bloodstained gauze. The jagged edges of a brutal slash across your chest peeked out of the top of the dressings, and you had to close your eyes and hold your breath for a moment to keep from throwing up. Once you’d calmed back down, you opened your eyes, startled to see that you weren’t alone.

Mattheo had pulled up a chair to the side of your hospital bed and crossed his arms on the mattress, using them as a makeshift pillow. His dark lashes fanned across his cheeks, his breaths slow and even. He looked so peaceful and...unguarded in his sleep. You reached down to brush a loose curl away from his forehead.

“Having fun?”

You startled, jerking your hand back. 

Tom leaned against the doorframe of your room with an amused expression, quirking an eyebrow and wiggling his fingers in a wave.

“Shut up,” you hissed back in a whisper, your cheeks flaring red. 

Tom’s amused grin only grew at your dark blush as he invited himself into your room fully, closing the door behind him.

 “Your secret’s safe with me.” He jokingly winked, tapping the side of his nose.

“You’re insufferable.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“What am I doing here?” You quickly changed topics, refusing to even look down in Mattheo’s direction. 

Tom sighed, any amusement on his face rapidly vanishing. “You sent us a Patronus, thank Merlin. Pomfrey said you would’ve bled out if you hadn’t.”

You had no memory of casting the Patronus charm at all, but you trusted Tom’s recollection of events better than your own jumbled and spotty one. “Bled out?” You questioned, your heart hammering in your throat as your voice climbed an octave in anxiety.

Tom nodded, his face carefully schooled into a blank and neutral expression. “You were hit with the Sectumsempra spell. You've been out for three days now.”

Your brow furrowed. “Malfoy got hit with that last year though—and was in and out of the infirmary in less than a day.”

“Snape knew the counterspell and found ‘im just in time last year,” Mattheo mumbled sleepily, his eyes still closed as he tuned into the conversation at hand. “But whoever hit you with it just left you there to die.”

“Charming.” You mutter under your breath.

“Regardless of what happened in Malfoy’s instance,” Tom interrupted briskly. “You were on the brink of literal death. So I’ll ask you this one time and one time only. Who did it, Y/n?”

~~~

“I brought you a cookie from the Great Hall,” Mattheo grinned widely, climbing into your hospital bed next to you and unwrapping the napkin in his hand. “And the notes from today’s Charms lesson, but those’re boring and we both know you won’t actually read ‘em.”

“Aww, you know me so well.” You teased, breaking the cookie in half and handing him one of the pieces.

Mattheo cupped the cookie fragment in his hands like it was a priceless treasure, staring down at it in unrestrained awe. 

You just shook your head at his antics and brushed the odd reaction off.

~~~

You woke up this morning and just felt like shit. You were nauseous, and dizzy, and felt borderline faint. Tom’s voice, usually soothing and comforting to hear, sounded like nails on a chalkboard right now. He rambled on and on about the delicate process of making the temperamental Felix Felicis potion. 

“Tom,” you interrupted, your voice scratchy and quiet. “Can we take a break? Please?”

He blinked, surprised at being interrupted, but nodded slowly. “I suppose…? Why?”

“Don’t feel good,” you mumbled, setting your textbook down and rubbing your eyes. 

“I wouldn’t expect you to,” Madame Pomfrey said brusquely as she bustled around your hospital room, shooing Tom out of the way to stand by your bedside. 

(Poppy Pomfrey remains the only person who can and has shooed Tom Riddle III and lived to tell the tale—and all without a single ounce of fear.)

“I’ve raised your dosage so that you can be out of here in time for your N.E.W.T.s.” Pomfrey elaborated upon seeing your confused look.

“Fantastic.” You mumbled dryly, grinning sleepily up at Tom as he grabbed onto your hand and interlaced your fingers together. He ignored the way his heart skipped a beat in favor of letting you hold his sweaty palm.

“Go to sleep, L/n,” Tom muttered under his breath. “Potions can wait.”

~~~

Tom lay in your hospital bed beside you, running his thumb over your knuckles. “Please? We promise we won’t do anything.”

“Yeah,” Mattheo chimed in from the other side of your crowded bed, one arm tossed over your waist as he rested his chin on your shoulder. “Or at least, nothing we’ll get caught for.”

You sigh, tired of their ceaseless pleading. “Alright, alright, fine. I’ll tell you who it was.”

Both boys leaned in close.

You sigh again and roll your eyes at their overprotectiveness. “Alright, it was-”

~~~

Tucker Thompson and Devin Dobbs: Gryffindor Sixth Years Found MURDERED at Hogwarts! Dumbledore: “No comment at this time.”

You tilted the newspaper so Madame Pomfrey could read the article over your shoulder as she replaced your IV bag. 

Pomfrey just sighed and rolled her eyes. “I don’t understand how Skeeter is still employed at the Prophet.”

“Cause shock value will always hold weight in the media?” You answered dryly around a mouthful of depressingly plain infirmary wing toast. “And Skeeter’s good at nothing if not coming up with bullshit shock value titles.”

“That may be true,” she began, snatching the paper from your hands. “But patients shouldn’t be reading about such dark subjects, and certainly not while under my care. And don’t talk while eating. I rather like your company, and would hate to see you choke.”

You rolled your eyes at her suffocatingly motherly behavior. “So are they? Thompson and Dobbs; they’re really dead?”

Madame Pomfrey hesitated.

You let out a relieved breath of air that you tried (and failed) to hide behind a cough. “That’s…terrible.”

She narrowed her eyes and studied you for a long moment, her fingers mindlessly worrying the deckle edge of the newspaper in her hands. “It was them, wasn’t it? Your boys.”

“My boys?”

“Yes, yes, Riddles one and two. Your boys.”

“Oh- we’re not…”

She raised an eyebrow, pursing her lips as she tried to hold back a laugh at the utter obliviousness of teenagers. “Do they know that, dear?”

You spluttered out a half-assed rebuke to her statement, but Pomfrey quickly interrupted you.

“They’ve been staying here for hours every day for the last month. They want more than just your friendship, hon.”

“No way. We’re just friends.” You insisted firmly. “That’s all.”

Madame Pomfrey rolled her eyes. “Uh huh. Friends. Keep telling yourself that.”

You stared after her, open-mouthed in bafflement, as she rolled up the Prophet, tucked it under her arm, and turned around without another word—leaving you with zero reading material and a million questions.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

you have to love how pomfrey could not give less of a fuck that the riddles murdered two students as long as she gets her ot3 absolutely iconic behavior

[slytheringangstuff]

𝐹𝑜𝓇𝑔𝑜𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓃 𝒟𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓈

𝒯𝒽𝑒𝑜𝒹𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝒩𝑜𝓉𝓉 𝓍 𝐹𝑒𝓂𝒶𝓁𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

𝐻𝓊𝓇𝓉 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝒻𝑜𝓇𝓉

𝒲𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉: 𝟥.𝟦𝓀

𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: 𝓃𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓈𝓌𝑒𝒶𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔

𝒮𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎: 𝒜𝒻𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒯𝒽𝑒𝑜 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑔𝑒𝓉𝓈 𝒶 𝒹𝒶𝓉𝑒 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒻𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓉𝒽 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝓎/𝓃 𝒽𝒾𝓉𝓈 𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝒷𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓅𝑜𝒾𝓃𝓉. 𝐵𝓊𝓉 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝒯𝒽𝑒𝑜 𝓊𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓃𝒹.

𝒯𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒾𝓈 𝓂𝓎 𝒻𝒾𝓇𝓈𝓉 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝓌𝓇𝒾𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓈𝑜 𝐼 𝒽𝑜𝓅𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝑒𝓃𝒿𝑜𝓎, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓅𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝑒 𝒹𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝒷𝑒 𝓉𝑜𝑜 𝒽𝒶𝓇𝓈𝒽 <𝟥

15 minutes. 

It had been 15 minutes since y/n had finished setting up the picnic for her and Theo’s date, and 15 minutes since he was meant to arrive. But that’s typical for him, sometimes Theo took longer than her to get ready. How that’s even possible she still doesn’t know. She smiles fondly, remembering how they were once scolded by a very upset Draco after Theo had made them late to one of his precious parties, or soirée as he calls them.

She had planned it out to the finest detail, from learning how to make his favourite finger foods, to finding and buying a new dress in his colours that y/n new he would adore. She had woken up before the elves had begun making breakfast for the castle (an agreement made a week ago) to make anything she hadn’t bought at Hogsmeade the day before, deciding to skip breakfast to start getting ready. That way she’d have plenty of time to set up by the black lake.

30 minutes now… ‘but he wouldn’t forget. Not again’. She thought, or more so hoped, twisting the ring he bought her their first Christmas together.

After eventually being satisfied with her makeup and managing to style hair that was unwilling to cooperate, it was already 11:30am. How so much time had gone by was a mystery to her, but she didn’t have time to dwell. Rushing out to the black lake, y/n was relived to see their spot was not only empty, but there were hardly any other students around. Which was unusual since the weather was actually good this weekend, but she figured most students had decided to go to Hogsmeade for the day. Which luckily provided the perfect setting for the date.

45 minutes. Forty-five. Biting her nails, she tries to ignore that oh so familiar dejected feeling sinking in the pit of her stomach. “Please…” she whispers, eye closing momentarily almost in a silent plea. “Not again.”

She had spent the last 30 minutes ensuring everything was perfect. It had to be. 

One hour. Which quickly yet somehow slowly, turned to two. ‘Forgotten again’, she thought.

Other than her shaking leg she hadn’t moved. It was only when the overfamiliar taste of salt entered her mouth, did y/n realise she was crying. She allowed herself a deep grounding breath before she began to pack up the untouched picnic, moving swiftly in hopes no one would notice. Wiping her tears, she was grateful her makeup was waterproof as she took one last moment to collect herself fully, before placing a smile on her face as she walked back towards the castle. She’d be dammed if she let anyone see behind the carefully constructed image, she spent years building.

Walking into the common room a particular voice answered the mystery of the absent boyfriend, stopping y/n in her tracks. Lounging on one of the sofas, laughing and smoking with our friends, uncaring about the smell so strong it stung y/n’s eyes let alone the poor first years that tried to pass through the room as quickly as possible. Her smile faltered. It wasn’t a surprise, but it still hurt. 

Before she could even make a move to leave Matteo had spotted her.

“Where have you been all day?” He questioned, all attention falling on y/n. 

“I’ll tell you if you tell me.” Opening his mouth to speak she stops him. “Unless it’s classified information of course.” She teases, her act in full force.

Chuckling he says, “Well if you must know little miss nosey, we were at Hogsmeade. We got back about an hour ago.” He pauses, “We organised it at breakfast.”

Shifting from foot to foot, she felt that familiar pang in her heart. ‘Oh’, she thought. ‘Figures’.

“We tried to find you!” Added Draco. “But by the time we decided, we barely had any time because Enzo was insistent on getting there in time for some stupid sale.”

“Oi!” Enzo shot a glare at Draco before turning back to y/n. “There was a sale at our favourite sweet shop.” He perked up. “I bought you some of the best ones.” He hands her a bulging bag, causing her to raise her eyebrows in shock. “I may have overdone it, but I felt bad I went without you.” She goes to respond before he speaks again. “Oh! And don’t even think about not taking it or paying me back.” 

A genuine smile graces her face, “Thank you Enz. I’ll have to treat you to something next weekend.” He frowned. “And you can’t talk me out of that.”

“So where were you anyway?” Questioned Blaise.

Her smile almost dropped. Almost. “Oh, just down by the black lake.”

“The whole day?” Spoke Matteo.

She glanced at Theo before looking elsewhere, fidgeting with her fingers. “Yeah, it was um relaxing.” Feeling cracks forming in her mask.

“Oh… oh I-“Theo stammered, his face mortified as realisation hit him.

“It’s fine Theo. Don’t worry.” y/n interrupted. The group shared confused glances, but new better then to ask about it. A lump had formed in her throat and the cracks were increasing. She was done with the conversation.

“Wait!” He paused trying to think of something to say. “Are you sure?”

‘That was the best he could think of. Really?’ she thought. Musting whatever mental strength she had left, y/n smiled a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Yep.” She said turning on her heel and leaving as fast as she could without seeming suspicious, dropping her smile instantly but not allowing the tears to fall until she entered her dorm. Away from prying eyes.

“Hey Tesoro.” She doesn’t respond. It’s nearly two whole hours later when he comes to her dorm. “Yeah, um sorry about the whole date thing.” He hesitates, sitting next to her on the bed, before continuing. “But you understand right? I promise it won’t happen again amore.” 

There were those words again. That promise. The sweetest lie of all. That was when her sadness became anger.

“Understand what exactly Theo!?” He froze, eyes wide in shock at her outburst. “Understand how you have missed not one. Not two. Not even three. But FOUR FUCKING DATES.” Taking a deep breath, she emphasized. “That I! Yes I! Singular! Put so much time and effort into ensuring were perfect!” 

Pausing for a moment to take a deep breath, she pushed back the tears that collected in her eyes before speaking again.

“I feel as though I’m going insane. Waiting in the same situation over and over and over again, for something that isn’t going to happen.” Her voice wavers, the lump in her throat returning. “I’m sick and tired of getting my hopes up for nothing Theo.” Looking elsewhere, lip trembling, she willed the tears in her eyes away as she waited for him to speak. 

His mouth hung open as if to speak but no words came out. Her gaze remained fixed to the floor, hair blocking her face from his view. Until his once frozen body manoeuvred up to look y/n in the eyes. Or at least attempted to do so. However, she stepped back, jaw clenched, looking anywhere but him, her breathing short and shallow. 

And in her stubbornness, he reacted.

“Y/N! YOU said it was FINE!” She flinched at the use of her name instead of the usual pet names. “Not once did you tell me it was a problem. NOT ONCE!” But she had. Admittedly not in such a direct way, but in a way he new when it came to expressing her feelings on topics such as this. “And if it was truly such a problem, I don’t think you would have been all happy go lucky all the time. Especially on those days.” And that was the mallet to her mask.

y/n’s face snapped to meet his, more so in shock then anger. And the second Theo saw her gleaming, tear-filled eyes, he regretted every word. 

“I said it was fine. I never said it didn’t hurt.” Those words hit him like a brick, and he stood still, frozen yet again. Voice wobbling, she continued.” I just… just don’t get it Theo. You say that I'm important to you, yet you make me feel like I'm not worth your time. And what do I get in return? Empty promises.” Theo felt sick to his stomach. Seeing y/n so broken, knowing that it was his actions that caused this, made his heart break. He wanted to say something, anything, to make her laugh, crack a smile, it didn't matter as long as it helps to repair the damage, he had caused her. But before he could speak, she stopped him. Her eyes, so full with tears, glanced at his guilt-ridden ones in a silent plea to let her finish.

After calming her breathing, she continued. “I acted like it wasn’t a big deal when in reality, every absence broke my heart, and do you know why? To spare you the guilt. Because I know, if roles were reversed, you would do the same for me because I would be mortified if I had left you waiting for as little as 15 minutes, let alone stand you up. Whether it was an accident or not.” A tear fell, another following soon after. “But after the second time, I began to doubt my assumption. So, I decided that faking a smile is easier than explaining why I’m sad.” Taking a deep breath, y/n whispered so softly Theo almost missed it. “Not that you noticed.”

When she turned to leave, he tried to speak, but words seemed to evade him as though he was a predator, and they were his prey.

As she began to walk towards the door he fell still once again, feeling as though guilt held him still, as though he were a mouse in a glue trap.

With her hand on the doorknob, y/n hesitated before turning to face him. The sight of her made his heart both melt and break. Her tears had dried, but her eyes remained puffy and held the same shade of red as her nose which was also causing her to sniffle. y/n’s cheeks and ears were flushed, and her eyes were so bloodshot it looked painful. Although her flushed face, she looked devoid of colour, her colour. He couldn’t explain just by looking at her face, but the second they locked eyes he knew. 

Her eyes told more then words could say. And y/n’s were always loud and expressive. He always said they were the most beautiful things he had ever seen. Within them were emotions, stories, and his favourite, her soul. It shone bright in her eyes, lighting up her face, never did it dim. Not even her saddest moments could smother it. But now? Now he can’t even find a flicker. 

She had felt so much that she started to feel nothing at all.

Turing back towards the door, y/n closed her eyes taking a breath. When she opened them, she didn’t look back, and with a weak voice she spoke.

“You’re losing me Theo.” She begins to open the door. “If you still want me, do something before I’m lost.”

And with that, she left.

In the days that followed not many words were exchanged between the two, other than the odd hi or nod in acknowledgment when seeing each other in the halls, classes or with friends. It was as if they had become acquaintances, their lifelong friendship, and hence their two-year relationship was gone in the blink of an eye. The light in her eyes was stolen by the sadness in her heart, yet still she smiled, casting the perfect illusion of happiness. 

y/n felt as though she was being forgotten, that Theo had decided she wasn’t worth the effort. That she wasn’t wanted. But that couldn’t be further from the truth.

He cared deeply, ‘possibly even too much’, he thought. But since their argument, more so her confrontation, Theo couldn’t shake the sick feeling in his stomach. The possibility that he could lose the love of his life, the woman he thought no, knew he was going to marry, and also lose his childhood best friend, the person he could confide in for anything. The one person he was certain he could trust, was the biggest slap in the face he had ever experienced. And it was exactly what he needed.

It was as though he was finally seeing clearly. Seeing how much she did for him. How much she thought of him. How much he took for granted. 

He then started to realise how little he did for her. When they started the relationship, he was incredibly thoughtful and affectionate, hell even as friends he was more caring than he was acting now. So, he thought of a plan because there was no chance, he was losing her due to his stupidity. 

But first, he needed help from their friends. Which had also meant telling them what an arse he had been. And boy was that a conversation…

“I’m sorry, you did what now?” Draco’s eyes narrowed, burning holes into the side of Theo’s head. ‘If looks could kill’ he thought.

No sure what to say he stayed silent, glancing up at the group occasionally. “What. The. Fuck.” Matteo’s eyes met Theo’s, burning with an intensity that almost made Theo flinch, instead opting to shift slightly from where he stood. He never wanted to be on the receiving end of that stare again.

Pansy snapped. “What the fuck is wrong with you!” That made him flinch, when Pansy was angry people prayed to not be on the receiving end. That girl could be incredibly scary when she wanted to be. 

The group mirrored how each other felt, a mix of shock and anger very present and unmistakeable on their faces. Yet somehow, he managed the courage to speak. 

“Look I get it. I know now how shit of a boyfriend, friend, and heck even as a person I’ve been to her. I know. That’s why I’m trying to fix it. You can lecture me, be mad at me and so fourth later. Just please I beg of you, help me make it right.” He took a breath glancing away, willing his voice not to tremble, to not be vulnerable. But he was finding it hard at the thought of losing her. “Just… please, please, please. I can’t lose her.”Theo didn’t beg. Ever. So, hearing this, their expressions softened ever so slightly, except Tom’s, he ‘didn’t care’. But if Theo didn’t fix this, he’d find his way to the hospital wing. He had a soft spot for y/n as did the rest of the group. Which is why they agreed to help, but not forgive. Not until y/n was happy. 

Theo was exited and terrified. It had been six days since their fight, he was going to wait until Sunday, but he just couldn’t wait any longer. With the help of the girls, and photos, they set up a date which was an exact replica of their first ever ‘date’ together, in a clearing they discovered in the dark forest when they were younger. They weren’t a couple yet, but it was the first hangout that felt different to their regular ones. It felt more romantic. Two months, one week, and four days later and they were a couple. He thought of it as the most special and important day of his life, the day everything changed for the better. He wasn’t going to lose that. 

With the addition of Enzo and Daphne, stunning bouquets of y/n’s favourite flowers (something Theo remembered from when they were five) were made and placed around the area. 

Draco and Pansy helped him find perfumes and jewellery Theo knew she would like in high end shops, only the best for her. He ended up getting her favourite perfume, which he adored, and matching silver rings with their birthstones and initials. He didn’t want her to think he was trying to use gifts to fix things, so he didn’t buy everything he wanted to, but he made a mental note for future use.

Draco’s house elves taught him how to make y/n’s favourite snacks and meals by scratch. Which wasn’t too challenging for him, but it was extremely tiering. 

Up until five minutes ago, Matteo and Blaise were distracting y/n, well more like keeping her company. But now she was on her way, Pansy having collected her after they had finished setting up. Now Theo began to worry, lost in his own thoughts, imagining everything that could go wrong. That was until Pansy let out a cough, leaving soon after. Not before muttering something to y/n that he couldn’t quite catch.

She was wearing a gorgeous yellow sundress with white dots that landed just above the knee that Theo absolutely adored on her, in his eyes it gave her a beautiful glow, making her look, if possible, even more angelic than she already was. She had on the same white tennis trainers she always wore that somehow never got dirty. Her shoe size hadn’t changed since she was 10 and he never failed to tease her about it. Her hair was curled in a half up half down style to perfection, hair falling in way that framed her face like the work of art it was. And her makeup. Beautiful as always. Weather she had a full face, light or none, she was always perfect to him. But what truly got his heart fluttering was the look on her face. Her smile finally reached her eyes filling him with relief, but it was her eyes, what he saw in them. That spark. The joy. Pure happiness. 

“Theo…” She pauses, eyes taking in everything he had done. “This…this is amazing.” Her eyes get glassy, and he panics thinking there’s a problem, closing the distance to pull her to him. In an effort to comfort her he rubs her back, rambling. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. This is meant to be a happy thing. “Until his ears are filled with her adorable giggles. 

“Theo! Theo! I’m ok, don’t worry!” She controls her laughter before continuing, oh how he missed that sound. “I just realised this is like our first date. Well not date but well you know.”

He smiles before taking a deep breath. “I’m glad you like it. But come sit, I need to talk to you about last weekend.” He felt her stiffen as he reluctantly let go of her so they could sit down.

“Before I speak, please let me say everything I need to before talking, because I need you to truly hear everything I have to say.” He pauses to look at her, to which she nods. 

Using every bit of courage, he begins. “Ok. So, I would like to start by saying how sorry I am for everything, and I need you to understand and know that none of this is even remotely close to being your fault. I’m the one who is at fault here. I have no reasons or excuses that even begin to explain why I missed those dates that you planned and put countless time and effort into. And I am appalled with myself for doing such. But what I am even more sorry for is not seeing how my behaviour has affected you. Had I actually paid attention to you I would have realised sooner. Would have seen how your eyes had lost their spark. The hurt. I took the trust and love you gave me for granted, and I couldn’t tell you why. When we first met, I had no idea you’d become this important to me. And sometimes, when being faced with the loss of it, you realise in that moment what it is you’re losing. You come to your senses. I hurt you, and that is far from ok. I know this doesn’t make up for everything, but I will keep trying to win back your trust and affection and to never revert back if I may have you as you already have me.” There’s a moment of silence as he presses a kiss to her forehead, everything hanging in the balance, as he waits for the worst. And time seems to stand still.

A kiss on the forehead, such a small gesture yet it’s so sweet and filled with such meaning.

“You have me. Until every last star in the galaxy dies. You have me.”

[38sr]

My Adventures with Superman EP 4: Design Works

My goodness it feels so strange to see these designs two years later but I actually had a hand in Clark, Lois and Jimmy’s gala suits in episode 4 of My Adventures with Superman!

This happened WAY back in Sept 2021 but during my first week on the show I jokingly sent a piece of art to one of the design leads and well, one thing led to another:

This is kind of running gag with my work, but I somehow always predict things when I draw fanart haha. I truly didn’t know there was gonna be a gala episode and now I was tasked to do a pass for the main trio’s gala outfits.

CLARK KENT

Naturally since it started with Clark, he was the first one I did a pass on. I actually really like men’s suits design so this was the most fun to design out of the three. Overall, I drafted up four different suits that gave 4 different feels for our soft boi. Option A was a full 3 piece with slick backed hair (which honestly now feels very Bruce Wayne than Clark haha). Option B had a high school prom feel, Option C was more business casual (hence why his dress shirt was unbuttoned at top) and finally Option D was sleek turtleneck & suit combo. Honestly, I was rooting Option D ‘cause I’m a sucker for a turtleneck but if I  remember correct they went with Option B ‘cause it felt the most Clark. But just know I tried haha.

LOIS LANE

Lois’s outfit was quite challenging since I had no clue until I was given the assignment that she’s Korean (yes, Lois is canonically Korean in the show). I remember the design leads Jane Bak and Dou Hong showing me a rough concept of a modern hanbok. I spent so many days researching hanboks and the construction behind them...it truly was a learning experience for me haha. It was quite challenging trying to create and outfit that spoke to Lois’ heritage while still keeping her energy. This was my very first pass but I think ultimately the team did a great job to hone in the final look and balance both elements for her outfit (the backless top is just chef’s kiss). Also yes, I did try giving Lois slick back hair haha.

JIMMY OLSEN

There isn’t much to say about Jimmy’s outfit (sadly I left the production to work on Spiderman Freshman Year before seeing what they decided on). But from what I remember, I specifically was looking at men’s outfits from the Met Gala from that year and before (I think Chadwick Boseman was the biggest influence for me at the time). Though I think his final suit design aren’t like too far off from my initial thoughts, it’s still super cool to see how it evolved into the final look!  But yeah! Just a little behind the scenes on the work I got to do on the show. Again, super brief since Spidey was calling my name but I truly had so much fun getting to design for this show. MAWS was my first ever time doing design work (since I primarily work as a 2D animator and board artist). I was so nervous but the team was welcoming and taught me so much! I really have to thank Dou Hong and Jake Wyatt for taking a chance on me and allowing me to draw hot anime characters for a DC show haha.

[tuesdaykiss]

“touching toes”

rafe cameron social media au

“he’s over more and more, had to give him a whole drawer. to be honest, kinda like seeing his trainers by the door.” — olivia dean, ‘touching toes’.

synopsis: after finishing her fashion studies at college in nyc, y/n moves to outerbanks to live with her grandparents. she worries about the loneliness that comes with being in a new place, knowing only her cousin topper and other relatives… that is until she is acquainted with a certain cameron.

part — 1 | 2 | 3

yourusername

liked by topthornton, heywardpope and 2142 others

yourusername good morning obx ☀️

heywardpope ready for a tour?

yourusername omg the infamous pope?! dming you rn!!!

topthornton 🏄‍♂️

user i’ll miss the nyc content

yourusername me too! 😔

your phone

your first day in outerbanks was spent reconnecting with your grandparents; flicking through old photographs, playing an intense game of chess with your grandfather and baking the sweetest treats together. the whole house filled with a warm and familiar aroma, it was almost like your worries seemed to soften.

your story

the sun began to set, the sky a beautiful painting of vermilion hues, colouring your skin in a golden haze as you stood in front of your mirror. smoothing out the wrinkles of your dress with your palms, you still weren’t sure what to expect from tonight: “it’s the first party of summer. everyone will be there”.

by everyone, you assume he didn’t mean pope and ‘the pogues’ given his display of clear distaste for the group earlier. the kooks? you had no idea who they were, but you would sure find out.

a car horn sounded outside, interrupting your thoughts. topper was waiting in your grandparents’ driveway, very impatiently, “fashionably late only works if you’re actually fashionable, y/n!”

with a final glance in the mirror, you were ready. god, it was your first day and topper was already dragging you to a party. this wasn’t your typical idea of a good night, but he was right… you needed to make friends here. ready or not, this was as good an opportunity as any.

sarahcameron

liked by rafecam, jjmaybank and 352,981 more

sarahcameron i’m home! <3 view comments

itscleo ugh, i have MISSED your face

topthornton you coming tonight?

rafecam well it’s at her house, she best be

sarahcameron missed me that much?

jjmaybank what if she’s not huh?

user my invite must have been lost in the mail

kiaracarrera love you

johnbr ❤️

sarahupdates our queen

a/n: please give me constructive criticism! hopefully the additional story in between the social media parts is okay? i’ve tried to keep them short, for easier reading.

[sulumuns-dootah]

Your work inspires me so much!! If its ok, could i request something…? I´m in need of some angsty headcanons, since i dreamed about this particular scenario… How would the kings (who are deeply in love) react after discovering that his beloved MC is madly in love with one of their most faithful subordinates? MC has rejected their romantic advances before, but they are only now realizing why… And that… Hurts. I imagine would be Satan-Sitri, Beel-Bael, Levi-Foras, Mammon-Bimet?, Luci-Marbas? (my heart can't do this with Gami, its his little broo), and Belph-Beleth. Sorry if my english is bad, but thank you so much for your hard work!

WHB kings reaction to their crush liking someone else

⟡ Masterlist ⟡ 

A/N: Aw, thank you and dw your english is good! ^^

Warning: Some of these get a bit yandere :)

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Well, Satan is seeing red

He's unable to look at Sitri the same

In doing so he spends more time with Amy, which makes Sitri mad

The two eventually end up having an argument about it and if you haven't told Sitri yet, he's in for another shock

Being the good king he is, he won't stand in your relationship as long as you hide it in front of him

If he sees you two together without leaving a space for Jesus, one of you is getting kicked across the whole Hell

Also to add onto the angst: his visits to pubs and heavy drinking get more frequent

At some point it gets so bad that the smell of alcohol just carries with him, but his mind is still sound enough to be a king

       ༺☆༻

Oh...

Well, this is a first

Wanting something, but he can't have it?

So this is what it's like to be a common peasant

Mammon hates the feeling of that

He would never hurt you, you're his master and you're free to do what you want

Still, that doesn't mean that Bimet won't feel the sting of it

So Mammon gives him less and less change

Bet you feel stupid now, since Bimet has barely any money

Oh, and look... Mammon just so happens to be very hot and fanning himself with a stack of money

Care for a 5* hotel stay at the most expensive spa in all of Hell?

       ༺☆༻

Full Yandere mode

What, did you expect anything less from the king of Envy?

How foolish you are, really...

Leviathan gets commisioned a golden cage that's installed into his bedroom and that's where you stay

If you try to escape too many times, he'll even go as far as chaining you to the metal construction

For extra security, while he's away, there's at least five of his servants guarding you

If you're to go somewhere, it's only with Leviathan himself

Even Barbatos and Glasyalabolas can't be trusted

Oh, and Foras? He's lucky to even be alive

Anytime they cross paths in the halls, he's hanging from the cieling in a matter of seconds and isn't let go until he's passed out from the lack of oxygen

       ༺☆༻

Ahahah, nope

That doesn't stop Beel

No, he dosen't even acknowledge the fact

You're his

Bael? You fell for him while he was dressed up as Beel and now you're just confused, silly Y/N.

Is he gaslighting you or himself? Kinda both, actually

Poor Bael is just witnessing the whole thing and can't do anything about it

Beel is just an unstoppable force and nothing can change his mind

It's probably best to just let him forget about his feelings towards you

Let's hope that'll happen within your lifetime, otherwise youv'e got a stalker that defies all natural and supernatural laws

       ༺☆༻

Now, Belphie might be asleep most of the time, but that still doesn't mean you get to just run around and wanna be with anyone else

Oh, it's Beleth you're into?

Hm, looks like Belphie has to have a lengthy talk with him about it then

Since he hates long convos, it has to be short, sweet and straight to the point

And that's how Beleth finds himself smothered by the king's power as he's practically threatening to make him evaporate if he doesn't back off from you and reject all your advances

(Actually, you can still be in relationship with Beleth outside of the king's palace, but if Belphie finds out from someone else or smells your scent on Beleth, you're both gone)

       ༺☆༻

Lucifer tries to be as mature as possible, but there's still this jealousy gnawing on him from the inside

Asks Buer to help him with some meditation and breathing excercises to chase away his feelings and the thoughts

As one of the Seraphims, he had to learn to share God's love and this comes in handy

Actualy, what's wrong with having more than one partner? This is Hell, afterall...

The rest of his nobles know not to bring up you or Marbas in the same sentence or even the same context

Luci, being the demon of pride and all, firmly believes, that your feelings for Marbas are just temporary and soon you'll come to realise which demon is superior to that sex-crazed maniac

If things take a little too long for his liking, however, he's not against serving you a special type of tea strained through his underwear to speed things up

But don't worry, he's doing this for your own good :)

[peekofhistory]

What are, in your opinion, the most iconic hanfu for men and women from each dynasty?

Hi! I'm so sorry this reply is delayed, I had to do a quick trip abroad and didn't have my laptop with me, also wanted to spend some time finding photo examples for this :D

OK! Here we go!

Qin/Han Dynasties (Pic 1, 2): Quju (wrap-around) and Zhiju (straight-edged) are what I think of for this period. Both men and women wore these robes.

Weijin/ North-South dynasty (Pic 3, 4): This is hard...xD Too many styles to pic from OTL I do LOVE the drastic long sleeves of this period, the robes get split from one long robe to the top/bottom separated Ruqun style. Men and women shared most fashions during this period too. For women, the hair styles start evolving in complexity, a lot of gold hair pieces (no flowers yet). The clothing starts looking more "flowy" compared to the heavy, serious robes of Qin/Han.

Tang Dynasty (Pic 5-8): Tang was a period of dramatic economic growth, it was also when the Silk Road flourished so there were merchants coming to trade and do business. It's difficult to pick one "iconic" style, but for women I usually think of dresses that tie around the bus with either a form-fitted, thin shirt underneath, or a larger-sleeved robe worn over top (pic 8). This bust-tie style wasn't seen before this period. OR, a form-fitted top, maybe with a little vest over top, and a waist-tie skirt (pic 7) (this is a good style to go on outings, easy movement).

There was also a particular group of ladies who wore these long, dramatic head pieces that almost formed a giant halo around their head (pic 6). I'll talk about them in a later post too.

For men, the round-collared robes became popular, with these bumpy looking "hats" (the vertical portion and the portion wrapped around the head are actually separate pieces so it's not really a hat, I'll explain more in later posts).

Song Dynastyn (Pic 9-12): In my mind, Song's style was a lot more gentle and soft compared to the lavish, bright colours of Tang. Song was a dynasty that focused on the arts, Song dynasty's emperors were all very artistic (they tended to lean away from focusing on military defense which, unfortunately, led to the dynasty's downfall).

So I think of soft colours during this dynasty, simpler hair styles. A wrap-around top with a waist-tie skirt, topped with a loose outer robe (pic 9). For men, Song dynasty is famous for men wearing flowers in their hair or adorning their hats (pic 10, 12). The work hat also developed these giant, loooooooong sticks from the side (pic 11) which is great for social distancing xDD

Ming Dynasty (Pic 13-15): The biggest change to Ming dynasty's hanfu is we go from soft, flowy silks to thicker brocades, this makes the clothing look "stiff" and allows for clear-cut shapes using pleating (if you've ever worn a Ma Main Qun (horse-face skirt...wtf are these translations O.O) you know what I mean.

The collars for the tops also develop these high-rise styles (although they can be criss-crossed styles or round-collared too). I absolutely HATE these high-rise collars because my neck is short and anything wrapped around it makes me itchy (I can't even button the buttons, my neck is too chonk). Whenever I buy one of these robes I have to move the buttons down so I can flip the collar down otherwise I can't wear them T__T

So I usually think of a short or long "Ao" (top) paired with a Ma Mian Qun for women (pic 13, 15). The Ma Mian Qun (horse-face skirt) is recognizable by the pleating, it shot into into the spotlight in China in July 2022 when a lot of Chinese Hanfu-hobbyists noticed Dior had a skirt that was constructed the same way, only the length was shorter. It was a whole big controversy with people accusing Dior of copying the style without giving credit, so now most people in China know of this skirt (I'll post a pic below of Dior's version). It's not uncommon to see people wear it paired with a cute, modern-top in China

For men, one of the most iconic clothes for men in this dynasty is the "flying fish robe" (pic 14). These were worn by imperial guards and named for the pattern of the brocade. Because the guards need easy movement, the robes cut off around the calf, and the sleeves are tightened using arm cuffs.

So, there's my "iconoic" hanfu for every dynasty. That was hard T__T I wanted to pic so many xD Oh, and here's Dior's skirt:

Left is Dior's, right is a Ma Mian Qun. Ma Mian Qun's pleating style is quite unique, I don't have one on hand to take photos but here's a video of someone twirling in one and you can kind of see the pleating. Some people speculate maybe Dior saw these skirts on Taobao or something, thought the design looked nice and took it without realizing the historical significance of the outfit. I don't know the details, I only heard about the controversy very briefly (back then I hadn't really dived into Hanfu yet).

[darsynia]

Forgiven: Candor | CEO Steve/f!Reader series part 2

MCU MASTERLIST | STEVE ROGERS MASTERLIST | Ro Roll

Summary: Your first lunch date with your company’s CEO-turned-construction-hottie has netted you an invitation to a fancy gala. You’re falling head over budget heels for this guy, but getting to know him turns out to be more charming and more complicated than you expected. Words/Warnings: 2,900 / none

Written for @buck-star's Fluffy Winter Event with the prompt CEO, a sequel to the 'Ro Roll' story Forgiven. A third story in the series is mostly written (and smutty). gif by @tay-swifts

Quick note: this one's less of a romp than the first, but I'd say where the first fic is about physical attraction, this is about emotional attraction--and part III is both!

Excerpt:

Tonight’s plan is unconventional. The gala he’s invited you to is the last event of a conference for tech companies, and he was one of the keynote speakers for their final wrap-up. Rogers told you he couldn’t miss the networking for the ninety minutes between that and the start of the gala, so you’ll be arriving separately.

Honestly, if it were anyone else, you’d have tried to beg off. You’ll have to show up dressed to the sevens (the nines are way beyond your price range) and find him in a sea of very important people and other hangers-on. It’s a recipe for a fairy tale either way--either you’ll see each other across a crowded room or someone’s rich stepsister will cut you to verbal shreds. The only way to make that image to go away is picturing Rogers acting like a storybook hero vanquishing all your villains. 

Candor

Sharing a meal with Steve Rogers feels like it shouldn’t be this easy. 

It helps that you’d passed a vintage movie theater playing The Mark of Zorro from 1940 on your way to the deli. You’d expressed surprise that the franchise started that long ago, prompting a discussion about the notable parts of each version the other hadn’t seen (Rogers: Just her hair left to cover everything?!). Now you’re both sharing anecdotes from your late teens over some seriously delicious sandwiches, him telling you about his co-founder Barnes, and you sharing about growing up with your sister Jennie. 

Rogers’ easygoing charisma makes it far too easy to forget that he actually runs the company you work for, especially when he’s laughing. It’s only when he holds out a hand to interrupt the story of your sister’s first catastrophic job interview that his business side kicks in.

The counter is only a few feet away from your table, and he leans over, intently listening. That’s when you hear it-- the soft, frightened voice of a young woman defending herself against a furious male voice.

Rogers shoots to his feet, striding over with the remaining bites of his sandwich in his hand. The manager steps over right away, his frown fading away when he sees the tall, well-dressed man at the counter.

“What can I do for you, sir?”

“I want you to observe OSHA standards, to say nothing of human decency,” Rogers says evenly. The manager presses his hands together in a blatantly fawning apology, but it’s too late. In an ever-increasing tone, your lunch companion lists out three different violations. At least one customer leaves nervously before Rogers adds a strong suggestion that the manager treat his young female employees with more respect. “I have rarely seen the same employee more than twice in the two months you’ve been open, and I hope for your sake it’s because they know their rights,” he says sternly. “Your food is good. Your management is going to run the place into the ground.”

There’s something about his voice of command that completely stomps the manager’s bravado. Seconds later, the employee who’d been yelled at comes out of the back room with a light jacket on and a purse, her face blotchy from crying. You offer her a tissue from your bag and clean up the rest of the table, which works out well when Rogers steps close and asks if you’re ready to head out. Once outside, he spots the young woman walking nearby.

“Give me a second,” he tells you, jogging over to her before she can cross the street. They have a short exchange while you wait, and you can see him give the woman a business card.

When Rogers comes back, you’re both quiet until he opens his car door for you and settles in on his side.

“That was a good thing you did.”

Rogers sighs. “I try not to throw my weight around. I’ve been watching conditions there deteriorate for weeks, and I guess that was the last straw.”

“You offered her a job, didn’t you?”

He turns and smiles, and the brightness of it reminds you of the way sunlight spills into the lobby at Star Industries.

“You’re going to spill that all down the front of you!” Marcia frets as you wobble your way to the door after work. The takeout container you’re precariously balancing is your peace offering to your sister, since you have a date on Couch Potato Movie Night.

“Don’t worry, I won’t be wearing this for long!” you say in an attempt to reassure your coworker.

“TMI!” the older woman says, playfully putting her hands over her ears.

“No, no no no--” The words cut off as you nearly bobble the styrofoam in a bid to whirl around in protest. “Doesn’t everyone change into comfy clothes after work? See you tomorrow!” 

It’s a total obfuscation, but Marcia isn’t able to object before you escape through the rotating doors. 

You won’t actually be wearing ‘comfy clothes,’ mostly because the black ensemble you’re planning to wear on your date has more exposed back than anything you’d ever worn in public before. The truth is, you look and feel great in it-- but comfy it is not. You haven’t worn it in a while (barring the try-on you did two days ago), and you’re already looking forward to the way the skirt flutters around your ankles. Its style is as close to the red dress from Only You as you could find, and you’re pretty sure Marisa Tomei would approve.

You’re hoping Steve Rogers approves, too.

Tonight’s plan is unconventional. The gala he’s invited you to is the last event of a conference for tech companies, and he was one of the keynote speakers for their final wrap-up. Rogers told you he couldn’t miss the networking for the ninety minutes between that and the start of the gala, so you’ll be arriving separately.

Honestly, if it were anyone else, you’d have tried to beg off. You’ll have to show up dressed to the sevens (the nines are way beyond your price range) and find him in a sea of very important people and other hangers-on. It’s a recipe for a fairy tale either way--either you’ll see each other across a crowded room or someone’s rich stepsister will cut you to verbal shreds. The only way to make that image to go away is picturing Rogers acting like a storybook hero vanquishing all your villains. 

You exit your taxi a block away from the venue, amused and diverted by the mental image of your CEO date wearing medieval armor and wielding a sword and shield. The night is warm for early fall, with a light breeze that pleasingly swirls around your skirt and filmy shoulder wrap. You’re left wishing you could wander through Central Park with him, looking at the first leaf changes instead of feeling out of place at the event.

As you walk, you ponder what a modern-day heroic Steve Rogers would look like. This version can definitely wield his power like a weapon, offering that young deli worker a better job or calling on his fellow manufacturers to use more sustainable materials, something Star Industries recently made news for. You’re preoccupied in coming up with a shield analogue for him when you approach your destination.

“Excuse me, miss?” a familiar-sounding voice says. You lift your head to see that it’s Rogers.

“Oh! I didn’t at all expect you to meet me out--”

“I couldn’t take it in there anymore. Place is full of opportunists who think I’m naive for not taking more advantage of our disabled clients,” he says roughly, stripping off his suit jacket as he speaks. “It seems they thought I was faking nice for the past few years. I’m sorry to disappoint.”

“You could never be disappointing!” The words come out before you can vet them, but even if you had, you’d have said them anyway. He throws his blazer over his arm and looks at you with what you can only describe as professional exhaustion. You suspect more went on in that conference than he’s willing to say, and that makes you want to be more honest with him, for some reason. “There were two things going on in my mind on my way over here, would you like to hear them?”

His tone is guarded. “All right.”

“First I was picturing you as a kind of medieval warrior on a mission to fight the kind of villains you just described--”

“No pressure or anything,” Rogers murmurs. 

“The other thing was wishing that I could take a walk with you through Central Park. The leaves are starting to change, there’s a nice breeze--what do you think?”

“I think you shouldn’t lift me up as some kind of hero,” he finally says, “--but I would very much like that.” Rogers holds out his arm for you, not unlike the way you pictured him leading you around the gala. 

As you take it, you decide to go ahead and say, “What would Barnes say about whether you’re a hero?”

“He’d call me a punk with delusions of grandeur, but he’s the one who turned down the position of CEO,” Rogers says, but though his tone is amused, his expression doesn’t really show it.

It’s information you’re not sure is even public, so you focus on keeping up with his big strides as you make your way to the Park. Everything about his body language tells you that there’s a lot going on under the surface, that he might be close to coming unraveled. There’s no good way to say, ‘it’s okay to be quiet if you need to be.’ All you can do is stay quiet and hope he feels supported. The resulting silence isn’t comfortable, but it’s not awkward either--and after what he’d said about the population of the party he left behind, the twilight beauty of the park has to be an improvement.

A gust of wind finally changes the contemplative mood when it blows your shoulder wrap up onto his chest and into his face.

“Crap, I’m sorry,” you rush to say, fighting with the thing to make it stay put. Through your fussing, he stands with his hands out, a small smile haunting his face. It’s the first one you’ve seen from him today, and you decide to comment on it to test the waters. “I can’t help but be nosy and notice you don’t seem much like yourself tonight.”

Rogers’ body language closes up and his facial expression tightens, but he nods. “I’ve had to button up for the conference. I guess it’s just harder to shrug it off, tonight.”

It suddenly occurs to you that you don’t really know him very well, and you’ve walked yourself into a semi-private section of the park with him, at night. At the same time, you still recognize the man you ogled as he sweated and worked in the foyer of his own building as ‘just one of the guys.’ 

Hadn’t you hated a job so much your sister said it ate you alive?

“I can’t pretend to know what it’s like to hold a position at your level,” you say, in the world’s greatest understatement, “What I do know is that you made a decision to protect me from having to deal with something that clearly made you miserable. It sounds like those people were judging you as a bad leader because you want what’s best for your company and its clients. For the record, I think standing up against that is plenty heroic.”

Rogers looks down at his feet for a second, letting out a quick breath before meeting your eyes again, this time with a wistful kind of smile on his face. “It’s nice to know there are people who still see that kind of idealism in me. Thank you.”

“That’s the most polite ‘I disagree’ I think I’ve ever heard,” you retort. “Just to pile on, I also get the impression that you lied to me earlier.”

Now you have his full attention, blue eyes capturing yours with a laser focus you imagine is even more intimidating to a direct subordinate. “Oh?” Clipped, doubtful.

You could love this man, but you have the distinct feeling that he’s having some sort of crisis you’re not privy to. As such, you could be helping here, or you could be making it very easy to leave you on the curb needing a new job.

He’s worth the try.

“You said Barnes turned down CEO. I think you took the job so he didn’t have to.”

The two of you look at each other steadily for a long minute, the tension of your possible mistake ramping up inside you until he strides over, nearly chest to chest.

“You’re right,” he says, almost breathless. He lifts his hand as if to touch your face, his eyebrows quirking up in a silent question. You nod, captivated by the battle he’s clearly fighting with himself. You hope you’ve earned the faith you can see reflected in his eyes.

He slides his fingertips along your cheek and into your hairline with the kind of gentleness a girl can only dream of, and then he kisses you, stealing away all other conscious thought. You sway forward, catching yourself on his chest and then clutching at his lapel when he angles his head. His lips are reverent but hungry, just on the edge of desperate, and as it goes on, your heart spirals away toward the abyss of yes, please, forever.

When he lifts his head, he’s finally smiling in a way you recognize, and holy shit it feels so much like a triumph that you’re probably in big trouble with this guy.

“How about a do-over?” he asks, offering you his arm again. The happiness in his eyes makes you impish.

“Of the kiss, or…”

With both hands framing your face, Steve takes thirty seconds to methodically ruin you for every other man on the planet. Afterwards, he bends down to pick up his jacket from the ground, slings it over his arm like nothing momentous has just happened, and then holds his other arm out just as he’d done earlier in the night.

“You’re an overachiever, you know that, right?” you say, taking his arm. He’s a few other things, but you feel certain there will be time to work on those.

“It’s chronic,” he says. “Shall we?”

The next half hour goes exactly as you’d originally pictured when you walked past the park the first time. Easy conversation, beautiful surroundings, and more sparks flying between you than a welder’s convention. He calls ahead for a car to meet up at a specific corner, and you end up having to borrow his suit jacket by the time you get there. He makes you promise to call him ‘Steve’ before he hands it over.

“Thank you for a perfect evening,” you whisper to him after he gets in the back seat with you. “For your sake I’ll try to remember the best parts, so I can recreate them when I wake up and it’s this morning again.”

“Does that mean you’ll meet me at the same time tomorrow, in that dress, so I can take you to dinner?”

Even your swoons are swooning. You manage to say, “I could never say no to an invitation that smooth!” 

Steve reaches over and squeezes your hand. “You can always say no. It’s important to me for you to know that.”

He sounds so serious that you pull your joined hands up to briefly kiss the back of his. “There’s a story behind that, isn’t there?” As you say this, your conscience stabs you. Hadn’t you dreamed of a rich man to sweep you off your feet? Would he feel betrayed by that??

“Don’t worry about that. Just know I was starting to feel… How do I put it,” Steve says, sweeping his thumb across the back of your hand. “Don’t take this the wrong way--”

“I’m not going to steal Willy Wonka’s secrets, so you can forget about asking,” you quip.

Steve throws back his head in laughter, his hand tightening on yours almost painfully before he lets go. “I was starting to forget what it was like not to be surrounded by people who want something, even if all they want is to say ‘yes.’ That’s one of the few things money can’t buy.”

“Observation changes the results--or in this case, money does,” you say, nodding. “Well, I’m going to take that as a compliment.” The car stops, and for the first time after a long day, you are disappointed to see you’re in front of your apartment.

He unbuckles and leans over to give you a brief but searing kiss. “It’s a compliment.” 

Steve gets out of the car, and for a brief moment you’re confused until he opens your door like a gentleman. It’s impossible not to be charmed. Once he’s helped you out and onto the sidewalk, you wish you could keep his suit jacket, if only so you can use it to prove none of this was a dream. 

“See you tomorrow?” he asks, then says, “Wait. I know you just well enough to suspect you want to prove you’ll say no to me.” You burst out laughing and nod. “All right then: do you want to stay home tomorrow?”

You grin. “No.”

“Good. Let’s push back by an hour, for a better reservation. Seven?”

“Yes.”

“See you then.”

Because your life is not a romance novel but a comedy, you walk in the door of your apartment two hours earlier than promised, your stomach growling in outraged hunger.

“What are you doing home already? Was that your stomach? Didn’t you eat?” your sister asks as you take your shoes off. “Well?” Jennie demands, when you silently head toward the kitchen to warm up some leftovers. “You’re not going to tell me, are you?” she realizes aloud.

“No,” you tell her, an indelible grin on your face.

<- Previous ||||| Next ->

[247-diaperboy]

Trapped in Diapers Part 6

That was a tough day at work for me, I could not stop thinking I wet my bed like a baby with no control and I really needed diapers again. Which I had conflicting thoughts about, it was also a real big turn on to me. So much so I went to the restroom on my lunch hour and entered a stall and unzipped my jeans and began masturbating myself through my diapers and teddy bear print plastic baby pants thinking what a big baby I had become, wetting my bed with no control. Saying repeatedly to myself I'm a baby and belong in diapers. There I stood Mr. tough construction dude with his pants pulled downplaying with myself in my baby plastic pants and diapers, feeling like a 2-year-old. Eventually ''exploding'' globs of my baby load into my diapers, then pulling up my jeans and returning to work. I was thinking that afternoon when I use to jerk off in my diapers, I could not stand wearing them afterwards. But now when I was done, I really felt I belonged in diapers and had no desire to get out of them. Yes, Daddy was making me wear them but somehow, I no longer minded I wanted to wear diapers all the time now, I can't get enough of my diapers to be honest.

Then on one weekend I spent with Daddy it all sunk in what had happen to me. At the end of the weekend, he went to change me, and daddy did not put a fresh diaper on me, he told me to get dressed no diapers. He gave me all the pictures and the video and said do as you wish with them. Adding he'd NEVER would have actually used them it was just to help to keep me from resisting. I felt very confused and a sense of panic thinking the game was all over. Then out of nowhere I blurted, Daddy PLEASE DADDY DIAPER ME, I BELONG IN DIAPERS, I LOVE DIAPERS. Please!!!!! Daddy just stood there and did not say a word. I'm thinking I couldn't believe I was pleating with Daddy to put me back in diapers. Daddy smiled with a big grin and said of course I will put you in diapers that's where you belong. I asked why he had a big grin on his face, he smiled and looked me in the eye and said Well my little experiment worked. I asked what experiment Daddy? Well baby boy I used psyco sexual reinforcement on you. To get you to bond with your diapers so you desired to want to wear them more and more. I basically used sexual reconditioning to make you fall in love with your diapers as your main focus of sex daily for months. By making you masturbate in your diapers so much your brain got the message sex with your diapers makes you feel good. Which also gave you the message wearing diapers feels good, giving you a strong desire to want to wear diapers 24/7. The good or bad news is depending how you see it, once it’s been blue printed on to your subconscious, it’s almost impossible to reverse.

Diapers ''forever'' Baby Boy, remember, it’s what you asked for. As Daddy took me to the nursery it all sunk in, I had fallen in love with my diapers. I haven't had gay sex besides some light play with Daddy in months and become obsessed with wearing, using and humping my diapers and being a diaper boy. As Daddy thickly diapered me and slid my Disney waterproof baby pants up my legs, I once again felt good and of course my dick got rock hard. It's been 6 years since that first day I met Daddy and now wear 24/7, a total bedwetter and no longer able to achieve an orgasm outside my diapers or even care to. Nothing turns me on more than the soft warm, wet bulkiness between my legs and the crinkle sound when I hump and cream my wet diapers. I've come to grips with accepting and loving my diapers to the point even close friends outside the diaper scene know all about me wearing and I'm amazed most of them accepted it. Funny thing is before I told most of them, a few had mentioned how happy and relaxed I seemed over the past months, inquiring maybe I had a boyfriend. What can I say I'm a diaper boy and love my diapers they make me happy. I'm trapped in diapers "Forever".

[dresshistorynerd]

This is kind of random, but would it have been a struggle for a big busted women to wear fashionable silhouettes in the medieval era? I’ve heard some costume historians discuss that there were forms of bust support, but most of what I’ve seen pre-1500s seems like it would have been a nightmare for any ancestor with a similar bodytype to wear. Am I just from a line of women doomed to horrible back pain? (On the flip side of the situation, I’ve found corsets and stays to be rather comfortable, so that’s not a problem)

As a fellow big boob haver, I have good news for you! There were pretty good Medieval bust supporting garments and I have tested one of them.

With sturdy fabric, tailoring and lacing you can create pretty good bust support. Lacing was popularized first in 12th century in form of bliaut, and in 14th century tailoring became standard for everyday garments. I don't know how well bliaut supported the bust, but since it doesn't fit super snugly, I assume it doesn't distribute the weight of the boobs as well as tailored supporting garments and therefore isn't as supportive. I'm also not actually sure if there was proper bust supporting garments before that, I haven't looked into it. I know Romans bound their breasts with cloth wrapped around the chest, so maybe that technique continued (at least for those who especially needed it) till lacing and tailoring became a thing. For more about how supporting garments developed in Europe through history, I have a post about development of lacing, which coincides pretty well with that history from 12th century forward.

Personally I have experience with Medieval Bathhouse dress, which was used in the Germanic Central-European area roughly in 14th to 16th century. It's called the Bathhouse dress because most depictions of it are from bathhouse settings, but there's depiction also in bed chambers and other contexts, so I think it's pretty safe to assume it was used more generally as an undergarment. It often had separate cups for the boobs (see the only extant garment left of it, the so called "Lengberg Castle Bra"), but not always. Unlike most other undergarments at the time, it was sort of a shift (the lowest layer) and a supporting garment combined into one.

I sewed my own recreation of it (with some alterations because I made it for my everyday use, not as a historical recreation) and did a post about my results, where I go deeper into the history of the garment too. I didn't construct it very well and I did an error in the design of the back, which cause the strain of the shoulder straps to focus too much on very specific spots in the back panel, which eventually made the fabric there break too many times. (There were some other smaller design flaws too, like the waistline is lower than my natural waist so it rose and wrinkled annoyingly.) I did use it daily (except when I washed it) for a fairly long time though and it was super comfortable and helped a lot with back pain (and shoulder pain caused by use of modern bras). I hate that I've had to go back to modern bras because I haven't had the time to remake it yet. (I'll probably make a follow up post once I get around to it, where I go through the issues of the first version and how I addressed them in the next attempt.) Well fitted and shaped bodice which is then laced does surprisingly much even without any additional reinforcements.

I haven't made a Medieval kirtle (though I will some day), but it was the more widely used Medieval supporting garment, which eventually replaced Bathhouse dress in the area where that was used. Kirtle is worn over a shift, but it broadly works similarly. Kirtles could be front, side or back laced depending on the time period and how the Kirtle was constructed. Multiple layers of kirtles could be used and looser overgarments (like houppelande) were often used on top of it. Kirtle was used by everyone, including men, but for those who didn't need bust support, it's purpose was mainly to create the fashionable silhouette. Here's three depictions of kirtles from 15th century. First unlaced, but has lacing on the front, second close up of the side lacing and third shows nicely how both front and side/backlacing shaped the bust.

Morgan Donner is a costumer, who focuses a lot on Medieval costuming and has a big bust, so while I haven't personally tested the supportiveness of kirtle, she certainly has. The kirtle bodice part needs to be patterned to accommodate the breasts by giving it round shapes and the kirtle needs to be a little too small so there's room to lace it to fit well. Lining also helps to reinforce the fabric and make it more firm and supportive. Here's Morgan's pattern from the tutorial in her website and how the kirtle eventually fits for her. (Also look at the handsome boy in his handsome matching outfit.)

She also has a video relating to the same kirtle project, where she explains her method to pattern a kirtle specifically so it's supportive for big bust.

In 16th century more stiffness was added to kirtles, first with very stiff lining and then with boning, but that doesn't necessarily add to the bust support, rather it just allows the kirtle to shape the bust and the body in general more and better support a heavy skirt. Firm fabric secured snugly with lacing is already very good at distributing the weight of the boobs to the whole torso.

In conclusion, at least since 14th century people with our body type were not doomed to eternal back pain and even before that some ways to help with it were probably used.