#very cool spindle

[spindle-and-nima]

Well I gave the little guy a new cupcake toy (#4 now folks) and he dragged it over to his tent by the vent to sleep next to

[intertexts]

you spin yarn? :O whats that like ive been really wanting to try it!! also pomegranate molasses sounds delicious

yeah!!!!! i'm super new to it but it's SO fun!! it's a really neat like, hands-on hobby-- pretty much everything like knitting or sewing or embroidery or what have you has like, a big you-should-really-pay-attention-to-this component, right? you need to keep your eye on yr pattern or yr stitches or smth. spinning (at least, what i've been doing-- just plain single ply + using my ma's ashford double drive spinning wheel) is like... once you get the hang of it it's almost subconscious. there's barely any thinking component to it, other than like, adjusting the tension occasionally, making sure yr spinning evenly, etc. it almost kind of reminds me of driving on a highway? you have to keep focused or you'll fuck up, but after a while it's really just. mostly muscle memory. also it's SO fucking satisfying it's just so fun oh my god. really rewarding to see you have a whole spindle of yarn you made. also it's like, quicker & therefore more instant gratification than knitting or something!! theres also probably just an adhdautism aspect of "this is just a simple repetitive rhythmic motion you keep going" that's... very alluring sdkfdgkf.

[mydearlybeloathed]

── 𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐔𝐏𝐎𝐍 𝐀 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Long ago, you were cursed to one day sleep for an eternity—unless you’re presented with true love. You thought destiny couldn’t find you on the high seas, but when you're sorely mistaken, it's up to a certain swordsman to get his act together and rescue you from eternal sleep.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: zoro x princess!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 8.4k

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: tw blood, sleeping beauty au, meddling faeries here and there, stubborn swordsmen and lovelorn princesses, no use of Y/N, light angst, major fluff

𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: falling - timothy cole

𝐎𝐏 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝔒𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔲𝔭𝔬𝔫 𝔞 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢,

a very many years ago, twelve Wise Women from the Isle of Perminion—faeries was a more precise term, but they felt the label struck too much fear into their mortal fellows, and in this economy, faeries need willing clientele—were invited to the presentation of a young princess from an old kingdom. Each bestowed upon her gifts coveted by all. Beauty, grace, love, and the like. 

It was the thirteenth Wise Woman who took it all back.

“You dare not invite me to this celebration of life? Fine. Forget me. But not before I give the princess my own gift. She’ll grow beautiful, wise, and loved, as my fellow Wise Women decreed—but one day she’ll lose all that to the prick of a spinning wheel and fall dead to my power!”

Your life had just begun, and had already gone to shit (forgive such undignified language, unfit for a princess, but really, you felt you deserved some leeway).

The whole of the kingdom knew the witch’s speech by heart, saying a prayer each night in the hope that their princess would be fortunate enough to never cross a spinning wheel in all her life. And from the rail of her tower’s terrace, the princess dreamed of someday joining them. Not in their prayers, but in celebration that even the worst curses are no match for the blessed princess of their kingdom. Blessed, as she once was, before the outrage of Carabose found her.

But that was only the dream of a foolish child.

Foolish dreams. You were cursed not only in the very literal sense but also by the paranoia of your parents, the king and queen of your revered nation. Not a soul outside the castle walls had seen their princess since the day of her introduction—the day you were cursed to one day cross the spindle of a spinning wheel, and die.

Well, not die. Your godmother, Rosalie—the twelfth Wise Woman and the only one that mattered in your opinion—had gifted you a chance at survival. 

“The princess will not die upon pricking the spinning wheel. She shall only sleep till… till she receives a display of true, compassionate, unbridled love.”

It was the first thing Rosalie could think of that would lessen the blow of the witch’s spell. 

And yet despite this security, your parents locked you away, terrified of what would happen to their little princess should she cross that fated hunk of wood. Honestly, it was beyond embarrassing being destined to be bested by a hunk of wood, but that’s just your luck, you supposed.

It was also just your luck that one day when you’d just barely given up all hope of living a fulfilling life, a certain crew of pirates found your kingdom, caused the uproar of the century, and managed to help you escape all in just two days. 

With the wind in your face some months later, it seemed all your dreams of grandeur were coming true; far away from your castle, you sailed the seas with real friends at your side. You never worried about your curse, for why would you ever find a spinning wheel at sea? It was silly to fear the fate set before you. 

Rosalie always told you that destiny cannot be fought, but look at you now, proving her wrong. 

(It’s like you were asking for things to go wrong).

The day was windy and bright, with sparse clouds high above and cool grass underfoot. The Going Merry rest at the docks of the little coastal city, Usopp making repairs in record time. You couldn’t help but wish to go out and explore, taking full advantage of your freedom.

You took Zoro with you, of course. You’d never leave the ship without your loyal guard at your side. 

Zoro. What to say about Zoro? In your opinion, he was probably the love of your life, if he ever got over himself and admitted he loved you too. Either way, you would never picture life without him by your side, even if he brushed off all your teasing advances with a roll of his eyes.

“Here,” you motioned him to your side, feeling warm inside with the familiar bump of his shoulder against yours. You picked up one of the ornate golden rings displayed at the market stall before you, grinning like a devil as you lifted your hand to measure it up against your skin. “What do you think? I prefer silver, but gold would match your earrings.”

Zoro, lovely and clueless Zoro, only tilted his head, aforementioned earrings chiming against one another. “I think it's nice, but why d’ya wanna match?”

By the time you slipped the ring on your fourth finger, he saw where this was going. “Hmm, no reason.” You handed the ring back to the seller and smiled up at Zoro’s perturbed, blushing face. 

“Sorry, you’re just so easy to tease.” He grunted in reply, drawing another smile out of you. Your eyes got all misty, like they always did when you looked at Zoro, and the words escaped your lips before you could stop them. “Go out with me.”

Zoro kept his gaze firmly on the sky, his shoulders far too stiff to be comfortable. “We’re… too busy for stuff like that.”

It all felt like a mildly disappointing routine at this point; you asked, he dodged around giving you an explicit no. Perhaps if he actually got the nerve to deny you, you’d have given up, but Zoro always left you with that small hope that one day his answer might change.

Still, something in you held the strong consideration to give up. Lovelorn and yet hopelessly deep, it was a tempting option. Surely, pursuing someone so adamantly disinterested was a lost cause. But what if, you dared to call back, silencing your doubts.

“C’mon,” you relented. “I need some new fabrics.”

You scooped up his hand and he let you drag him down the street to a little boutique on the corner. The door rang when you entered, and Zoro tried to ignore how your hand still clung to his even as the door clicked shut behind you.

“I wanted to make Nami a new dress,” you said as you beelined for the shelf of various fabrics. “You know, to make up for the one I ripped.”

He didn’t try to pull back, only standing at your side as you skimmed your free hand over a set of pinks. “Still don’t get how you ruined it that badly. It was practically in two pieces.”

“You were there. I was in a tree.”

“But why?”

Your silly smile rose to meet his gentle grin. “Because I wanted to? You could have joined me, but no, you stayed all alone on the ground like a loser.”

“If I was in the tree, who would catch ya’ when you fell like an idiot?”

With a scoff, you let go of his hand and picked up some pink and blue fabric, failing to see him watch you longingly. “Touche.”

Zoro was never sure what to make of you—you were like nothing he’d ever faced before. The day you waltzed into his life and started up your little flirtation game was the day Zoro found his most formidable opponent in the love you shared so willingly.

There was your habit of getting into trouble too—trouble he often dragged you out of—which didn’t help much either.

Zoro thought princesses were meant to be graceful and poised, as Vivi was, but you toppled those expectations at the very foundation. At this point, it wasn’t really a question of if he returned your feelings, but if he was able to voice it. As far as Zoro was concerned, the answer would always be a firm no.

As you started to stack the pink and blue on your arm Zoro reached to take them from you, draping the fabric over his shoulder. He returned your appreciative smile with a slight nod, heart warm at how you doted on him with your eyes alone.

Yeah, it was better this way—you waiting for something that would never happen, and him standing stoic at your side, nothing but a loyal companion.

“Miss.” Your voice, calling to the cashier, broke him from his less-than-happy thoughts. “Have you got any purple?” You swiftly turned back to Zoro with a brief, “Robin said she likes purple.”

The cashier looked up from her book, pushing her glasses up her nose. “I just finished some this morning,” she said with a grin, getting up to lift the gate in the counter and motioning for you to follow her into the back of the shop. “I’ll show you.”

Zoro’s skin prickled as you glided after the cashier, shooting him a smile as you disappeared through the door. He was left standing with the odd sense that something was wrong. 

Maybe it was the way a sudden draft hit his back despite there being no ventilation, or maybe it was the fact that you walked under a ladder earlier just to piss him off. Or, perhaps, it was the flash of green in the cashier’s eyes as she passed by a mirror.

Whatever it was, he stayed put, trusting he would be there to help you the moment you needed him. Zoro was always there when you needed him. Neither he nor you had reason to doubt this fact.

You felt completely at ease as you entered a small, dim room full of messy shelves, half-knit sweaters, and heaps of yarn. “Here,” the cashier pointed to a table at the center of the room. “Is this the shade you had in mind?”

A grin split your face as you felt the fabric, marveling at its softness. It was high-quality stuff, definitely not cheap. But you thought of Robin, who had done so much for you, and felt it was worth the possible loan from Nami.

“It’s perfect,” you replied. “How much?”

“Oh, it’s on the house.”

You startled instantly, eyes darting up to find the cashier absent from your side despite her voice being right in your ear. “Come again?”

“You can have it.” Turning slowly, you found the woman sorting through a surplus fo purple fabrics. “I have plenty.”

A gentle laugh escaped you. “Thank you so much. My friend will love it.”

The cashier swiveled on her heel and leaned against the table, head cocked to the side. Had her eyes always been so vibrant an emerald? They almost seemed to glow. “No, thank you, Your Highness.”

Chills ran up your spine at the formal address, all air expelled from your body as you choked out, “Pardon me?”

Caught up in the green of the woman’s eyes, you didn’t notice a misty tendril swirling up your body till it clouded your vision, directing your captured attention to the corner of the room. There in the shadows was a contraption you’d never seen before, yet you knew its purpose instantly. 

The purple string being woven gave it away. How had you not noticed the spinning wheel before? 

The fabric slipped from your fingers and fell to the floor in a lump. You darted for the door, yet your feet never moved an inch, cemented in place. Was that a tear on your cheek? No, it couldn’t be. You never cried. And yet, a salty streak ran from your eye to your jaw now, as if your body knew what your mind denied: your fate had caught you.

“Stop.” You weren’t sure who you spoke to. Your feet that started to creep toward the spindle? The husk of a woman, possessed by some evil spirit of a bitter sorceress? Destiny herself? Whoever you ordered refused to listen as you closed in on the wheel and raised a steady hand.

A half-lived life flashed before your eyes. A princess sat alone in a room, loneliness her only companion. A girl stood on a ship, tasting freedom for the very first time. A woman stared at a man, knowing this was what love felt like. 

A light pinch shocked your whole body, and you finally broke from the spell to find your index finger pierced into the sharpest of spindles. A cackle echoed from every corner of the room as the cashier collapsed on the spot. 

One thought broke through your slowly fading mind. Traitorous, wobbly feet took you to the door, flinging it open and leaning you against the doorframe. Your heavy eyes ached, Zoro’s voice so far away. You didn’t feel his hands on your arms as you sank to the floor.

Your labored, panicked breathing matched your flickering, terrified eyes. “Spindle.”

And you lay fast asleep in Zoro’s arms a moment later, peace written in your features. Your chest rose and fell gently. Zoro gazed down at the sleeping beauty, uttering your name over and over, practically paralyzed… Until he noticed the tiny bit of blood dripping from your fingertip, and he looked into the ajar room. A spinning wheel stood right in his line of sight, the wheel creaking as it spun slowly.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

You had never told any of your friends about the curse, too embarrassed to do so. Was that a lapse in judgment? Perhaps, but you were too asleep to know.

Now Chopper stood at your side, holding his stethoscope over your heart. He set the scope around his neck a moment later, putting his hooves together nervously. Chopper felt the whole crew staring at his back like a brand. “I think—Well, I think she’s sleeping.”

Luffy had been deathly silent through the whole ordeal, not taking his eyes off you since Zoro carried you back to the ship in a hurry. “Then let’s wake her up.”

Sanji slapped a hand over his mouth before Luffy could start yelling, shoving out a sigh. “We tried that, didn’t we? Marimo shook her for five minutes before we could pry him off her.”

Everyone waited for when the swordsman would quip back his own insult, but the usual pattern was thrown off by a strange silence. Even Sanji looked around, confused to find Zoro nowhere in sight. 

Sanji blinked a few times before he placed his hands on his hips. “Now where the fuck is he?”

From the corner, seated in a chair, one leg crossed over the other, Robin spoke up for the first time all evening. Her thoughtful eyes stared into the space ahead of her. “I saw him leave a moment ago. Said he had to get something.”

Not even a second later did Zoro barge down into the galley. In one hand he held a spinning wheel of all things. In the other, he held a woman’s arm in a vice. 

Nami jumped to her feet, aghast. “Zoro, what—?”

He nearly threw the woman before them all, his brows drawn into an expression of ruthlessness. “Well? What did you do to her?!”

With her eyes wide and breaths short, the woman violently shook her head. “I don’t know what you mean!”

Sanji stepped forth intending to sock Zoro in the face for scaring the woman, when Zoro turned on him and spat, “This woman’s the reason she’s—she’s sick!”

That was all it took for Sanji, somehow still poised, to face the terrified woman now encircled by a crowd of frowning pirates. Sanji grabbed the woman’s arm, not as harshly as Zoro had, but just as firmly. “What did you do to her?”

“Nothing,” she sputtered, gazing over at where you laid limply on the table. “I… I remember her. She wanted purple fabric.”

Zoro nearly had the mind to throttle the woman. “You led her into the back room and minutes later she stumbles out and—and sleeps!” He slammed the spinning wheel on the ground, startling everyone around. “She said spindle. What’s this? Some sort of… torture device?”

The woman did nothing but blink at him. “It’s a spinning wheel.”

“What’s it do?”

“It spins.” Suddenly the woman had the nerve of a warrior, righting herself to face Zoro’s glare. “I don’t know what you think I did, but I didn’t. All I know is I led her to the fabric and…” 

All her words fell short as she stuttered to find them, her brows screwing together. “And I don’t remember. I—I don’t remember what happened.”

Sanji seized her shoulders and leveled her with a look. “I need you to remember, madam. It means that girl’s life or death.”

The woman stood frozen, stunned as she stared into Sanji’s eyes, her cheeks turning a concerning shade of pink. Nami rolled her eyes and promptly shoved him out of the way, snapping in the woman’s face. 

“What do you mean you don’t remember?” Nami asked sharply.

“I mean I don’t remember.” Their captive grew increasingly frustrated, and maybe a bit nervous as well. “I walk that bitch into the back, I black out, and I wake up to this guy dragging me out of my home!”

Just as Zoro gasped (“Bitch, huh?”), Robin stood and slowly made her way toward the spinning wheel, running her hand over the wood and grazing a finger over the sharp needle. Inspecting the spindle close, she found a bit of dried blood there. She hummed, keeping everyone on edge, and went toward your sleeping form, grabbing your hands and turning them over. “Ah-ha…”

Zoro stepped forward, anxious. “What?”

“I think she poked herself on the spindle.” Robin made it sound so simple.

Nami tapped her finger to her nose as she pondered. “But why would that make her… sick?”

“Poison?” Chopper offered at the same time Robin answered, “Magic.”

“We don’t have time for speculation,” Sanji gritted as he fished around his pockets for his lighter, cigarette between his teeth. “Can we test for what poison it could be?”

As Chopper started to ramble about some tests he could run, Zoro stared daggers at the spinning wheel. Now, he wasn’t superstitious, but perhaps he was a little stitious, because the longer he stared at the wheel the more he remembered about what transpired in that shop.

“Why would it be magic?” Zoro asked suddenly, silencing the room. 

All eyes found Robin, who was now sitting on your bedside holding your hand. “She’s a princess, right? The princesses in the stories I’ve read dealt with a lot of bad magic.”

Nami shook her head. “This isn’t a story, Robin.”

The debate went on like that, really going nowhere at all, the cashier woman tentatively slinking away during the rabble and inevitably going forgotten. Luffy ignored them all, approaching you and lifting your hand to inspect as if he’d find some kind of sign in your pierced fingertip. 

And just maybe, he did find something. “Hey, Nami?”

She ran a hand over her face as Sanji and Zoro took jab after jab at one another, the stress of your condition getting to the both of them. “Yeah, Luffy?”

He followed a very excited thought bunny here and there, after princesses and stories until it hopped to a stop in front of a certain royal friend of theirs. You appeared next, smiling like he wished you would now. “Vivi? Yeah, I know her. We go way back.”

“Call Vivi,” he ordered, closing the discussion as he too sat at your side and started to poke at your sides, as if tickling you would be enough to break this spell.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

Often, your dreams gave way to the most horrible nightmares, and always, you would find refuge in the realm of day. Until now. No matter where you ran a firm sheet of black blocked you in. Air as frigid as the Arctic enveloped you. No friend in sight, no solace from the cold. 

Finally falling still, you blinked, and you stood in the middle of your tower, back in your kingdom. The high-reaching walls created that familiar dome painted with the long-forgotten stories of your people. The marble floors chilled your bare feet. Your bed leered at you from the far wall, whispers inviting you back into its clutches that would send you spiraling further into this forever sleep.

Panic surged up your chest till you gasped for air, losing your grip quicker than you could keep up with. Laughter taunted you from every corner till you started to scream and shout and call out for anyone to help you. But the door held fast against your pulling and thick briar thorns wrapped all around the balcony. 

Still, you clawed at the spiraling thorns, prying to see through, blistering your palms on their heated stalks. Your whimpers were followed by a loud, echoed roar, a harsh gust of wind cast down from the wings of a soaring lizard you’d only ever dreamed of. 

You whirled around to catch a better view of the creature’s mass, clutching at your heart as those gargantuan claws settled down on the tower of your bedroom. Two nostrils blew smoke that encroached the balcony and the depths of your room. The dragon’s eyes held no mercy as she gazed down with malice. 

This curse played a cruel joke, trapping you within the bars of your own mind, turning your fantasies against you. Your every turn showed you more wonders turned horrors the longer you searched for them; the clouds formed words you wouldn’t dare to repeat, the grass down below burned in confusing patterns, and the voices of those you held dear echoed from somewhere nearby.

Your fretful mother. Your paranoid father. The gossiping handmaidens. The superstitious priest. All lamented your fate, screaming how they knew it was a matter of time before the curse finally found you, tearing into you for ever even dreaming of leaving. You really should have stayed. This wouldn’t have happened if you’d piped down and stayed.

Then it was Luffy, Nami, and Usopp. “Why did you ever ask her to join us?” “Not sure. I thought she was something she wasn’t.” “She’s just a liar.” “A dead weight.” “A curse.”

Robin’s voice pierced her eardrums as your knees hit the ground. Why had she ever given you the time of day? Some sheltered little princess without enough common sense to know a spinning wheel when she saw one. And Chopper, his sweet voice turned sour. How pathetic. Beaten by a piece of wood.

The worst of it all was when his voice broke through all the rest despite how she tried to ignore that rumbling tone she once learned to crave. Zoro’s words were direct and clear. She’s finally gone. God, I was this close to just silencing her stupid mouth myself.

To think he would ever actually love her? How foolish of you.

The walls of your dreams closed in swiftly, caging you in and suffocating your hopes till you were left a husk, floating amidst the torment. 

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

Vivi had been silent for so long Luffy wondered if she’s gotten distracted and walked off. Nami shuffled closer to the snail transponder. “Vivi?”

“Sorry,” her voice reappeared, a slight crack to it. “I just… you said she pricked a spindle?” Nami hummed in agreement, and Vivi expelled a long sigh. “She’s been asleep since? You can’t wake her?”

“That’s what we said,” Zoro snapped, shutting up at Nami’s sharp glare.

“It’s just… I mean, I’ve only heard stories. She only talked about it once, in a letter she wrote to me. That’s the only way we could talk since her parents locked her away—”

“Stories about what, Vivi?” Nami guided the tense princess back as Zoro started to pace back and forth, his hands raking at his hair.

She was silent for two whole seconds, and then, “The curse.”

The whole room fell still.

“They say a dark Wise Woman cursed her when she was baby, so that one day, she would prick her finger on a spinning wheel’s spindle… and die.” She rushed to amend herself, “But then another Wise Woman fixed it. She won’t die, but fall asleep… until someone shows her an act of true, unconditional love.”

For a long while the whole room is held captive by silence, eyes flickering to where you snoozed nearby. Zoro couldn’t look away. The way you looked so peaceful pained him in a way, knowing you were trapped in a place he couldn’t save you from. At least the tiny grin on your face gave him confidence your everlasting dreams were nice.

“How do we do that?” he heard himself asking.

“I—I don’t know. I thought it was a story to justify her isolation—”

“Well, obviously not.”

“Zoro,” Nami’s words cut sharply. “Take a walk.”

“But—”

“Walk.”

He stood with as much noise as he could, knocking his chair back and stomping out of the room. Zoro stopped just at the door to cast a look at you, highly aware of the eyes of everyone on him. His hand closed around the doorframe, his heart tightening, and he left without another word. 

Letting the others see how much he cared for you would just make everything infinitely worse. Zoro couldn’t handle that level of teasing on top of your sickness.

Zoro stepped out onto the deck, now basked in moonlight, and rushed to lean against the railing. His skin felt feverish in contrast to the cold dread coursing through his veins. Why hadn’t you said anything? Sure, he probably wouldn’t have believed you, but maybe… maybe he wouldn’t have let you leave his side so quickly.

And now this? This formidable task would supposedly save you. An act of true love? What could that even mean?

With his eyes on the sky, Zoro let out a shaken sigh. He would tear every one of those stars down if it meant you would be okay. Would that be enough for this curse? Or would he have to take down the moon as well and lay it at your feet?

No… no, certainly nothing he could do would ever be strong enough to save you. For so long he’d put off your advances, too stubborn to face the emotions building up in his heart… Zoro doubted he held the strength to perform such an act, and that notion threatened to crush him. 

He too had read the stories Robin spoke of; stories of princes who swooped in and saved the princess with a kiss. You needed one of them—those princes—and Zoro was far from royalty.

If anything, he was the knight in rusted armor who failed.

But, an idea crept out of the depths of his mind, crawling to the surface till his heart pumped at the possibility. He was no prince, no knight, and no cursebreaker—but Zoro was a hunter.

He burst back into the galley with a crazed look in his eyes. “Vivi?”

Her voice crackled out from the startled snail. “Yes?”

“Where do we find this Wise Woman?”

Not even a day later, the crew set out on the sea once more, a new destination in mind: the secluded island of the so-called wise and elusive faeries. 

Zoro stood at your bedside, too afraid to reach out and take your hand, making a solemn oath.

“I will find a way to save you if it is the last thing I do.”

If only the swordsman would have known—the strongest of magic lies in promises. If only Zoro had the eye to see the tendrils of magic curling around your sleeping body, tightening around you as the curse shivered away from his declaration. Spirits hissed from the corners fo the room and shied away from the mere passion behind his eyes. Somewhere distant a sorceress coiled her fists around nothing as her hold on the slumbering princess slipped through, little by little. Could he have fathomed it, he would have known he held more honor than the mightiest of princes. 

But he couldn’t fathom it, so he failed to notice the magic encircling his heart, seeking out any cracks in his steel-strong pride. There were none to find. The magic had nowhere to go, and until the hunter’s pride wore down, nothing would change. 

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

Your godmother turned out to be a real bitch, by Zoro’s standards. First off, she was waiting for them on the shore, like a creep. In her witchy get-up, Zoro could have mistaken her for the one he meant to run through with his sword. 

“What’re you supposed to be,” he sneered as she made her way up the gangway, practically making herself on home on the deck. 

She met his glare equally. “I’m your only hope, dear. Now wipe that look off your face. You’ll get stuck like that.”

Rosalie took control of the situation in her stride, heading down to the galley and acting as if she owned the place. Only Nami seemed to be put off by this, standing at Zoro’s side with her arms folded as the rest of the crew gathered around the Wise Woman.

“She was always too stubborn for her own good,” said Rosalie fondly, a tiny grin on her lips. “Luckily for you, Carabose never strays far from the island. It’s the source of our power, and the poor, scaly, greedy thing would just die if she lost her magic.”

The radiant faerie pulled her dark curls forth, scrunching up her angular nose as she thought of the witch to blame for her dear princess’s condition. She sucked in a breath and released it harshly, suddenly appearing much older than before. “I must thank you. My princess deserves so much more, and you managed to give it to her, if only for a little while.”

“You talk as if she’s dead,” Nami grumbled. The look Rosalie gave her then was far less than comforting.

“Well, unless you have a source for true love nearby, she’s as good as it.” Zoro’s hand closed around the hilt of his sword, his eyes slamming shut as that grief washed over him again. Rosalie’s eyes flickered to him, an unnoticeable shine in her eye and a tilt in her lips. 

(Wise Women see much more than the normal eye, and just now Rosalie spotted the remarkable fuchsia tendrils of a very special kind of magic, so rare many thought it mere myth… yet it was swirling around the swordsman’s heart).

She turned to face the crew in their entirety, her expression grave. “Only the caster may raise a curse unless it is broken according to certain parameters. I may be able to deal with Carabose through negotiation. We… have a history.” Rosalie ruffled slightly. “She might have mercy and relinquish the curse herself.”

Zoro scoffed, drawing the faerie’s attention. “And if she doesn’t?”

Rosalie’s eyes flashed. “Then I’ll cut her down and hope that is enough.”

Sanji shook his head, blinking like he was forcing himself to deny Rosalie’s beauty. “And what will we do?”

“You’ll be with me. If Carabose dies and she does not wake… one of you will have to make a sacrifice.” Rosalie assessed them all with cool eyes, reveling in their discomfort, till she cracked a smile and tossed her head back. “I jest, I jest! However, we will need to come up with a display of true love after the deed is done and our princess has not woken.”

Zoro continued to bristle at the faerie’s coolness, grinding his teeth as she floated about the room, mumbling to herself. He dropped his swords on the table with a clang, startling Rosalie. “I can kill the witch myself. Give me ten minutes, and it’ll be done.”

“I know you are desperate to save your friend, Swordsman,” Rosalie simpered. “But you’ll be staying here.”

His blood was boiling at this point. The plan at hand was hardly what he’d had in mind. Zoro shook his head firmly and grasped his composure tightly. “I need to do something.”

“And you will! You’ll be guarding our princess.” Rosalie dared to set a hand on Zoro’s shoulder, making him go all stiff till he caught her steely gaze. “Carabose controls many of the spirits of the island. I wouldn’t put it past her to send one of them to whisk the princess away. You perhaps have the most important job of all.”

Yeah, right. Zoro locked eyes with Nami over the faerie’s shoulder, sharing a silent agreement as he shrugged the woman off. “Nami can stay behind—”

“No.” Rosalie’s grip tightened around his shoulder as the temperature dropped instantly. “You will stay, and Nami will come along.” Her smile felt sinister. “I am Rosalie of the Wise Women, and you are just a man with a sword. I have conquered kingdoms in the name of her parents. What have you done?” 

“I’ll kill the witch,” he said weakly. “And I’ll save her.”

“Kill the witch,” she mocked him. “You mean to tell me that’s an act of true love, swordsman?” Rosalie leaned in close, her voice as soft as wind. “How can you say you love her when you let her go, Roronoa Zoro. Now stay put and don’t make the same mistakes twice.”

She swept away as swiftly as she’d closed in, leaving Zoro breathless and unsteady. Rosalie clapped her hands together and faced Luffy with a grin. “Now, Captain. You understand the plan?”

Luffy looked all around, making eye contact with each of his crewmates, till he found Zoro, who leaned against the wall having some sort of crisis. Words rose up to his tongue, ready to lash out and tear the faerie to bits when he saw it. The tendrils were growing brighter. Slowly, he turned to Rosalie, who met his gaze unblinkingly. “Yeah, I got it.”

Usopp shifted uncomfortably. “Uh, Luffy, I don’t think—”

“I trust her,” he declared, and that was that. Usopp nodded, followed by the reluctant rest. Zoro’s eyes flashed up to meet his captains, unsure about how confident Luffy was, but not willing to ever doubt his friend. 

“Splendid,” Rosalie simpered. “I’ve no doubt Carabose is waiting for us, so we’d do best to keep up our guards.”

As she rounded everyone up and led them out of the galley and off the ship, Nami brought Zoro aside, her brows furrowed. “I don’t like this,” she murmured. “But I trust Luffy.” Zoro grunted as if to agree, his eyes unfocused. Nami gave his shoulder a pat as she passed him. “Just stay with her. Who knows, maybe she’ll know you’re there.”

And Zoro found himself all alone, the ship a deathly quiet he had never witnessed before. He could hear his every breath and feel the rock of the ship. A creak came from somewhere nearby, pinching at a sensitive part of his mind. Zoro took a few weightless, shallow steps down the hall, his hand running against the wall, until he came face to face with the door of your bedroom. 

Too long he stared at the door before he shoved at it, swinging it open wide. Zoro surged inside with so much gusto his muscle memory urged him to reach for his swords, but he’d left them in the galley. Instead, his hand grasped at air whilst he vacantly stared about the room. 

You lay soundlessly atop your bed, hands crossed over your chest like a corpse. Zoro instantly moved to adjust your arms, laying them instead at your sides. There, that was better.

His brows screwed together; where a smile had earlier been gracing your lips, a firm frown now replaced it. Your face contorted, your mind plagued by an enemy Zoro couldn’t fight. Ensuring he didn’t make a sound, Zoro took a knee and drew close to your face, folding his arms on the edge of your bed and resting his head there.

Sweat beaded along your forehead, distress clear on your face. Without thinking Zoro reached to wipe it away with the back of his hand, initiating a kind of intimate contact only you had ever thrust upon him. He shocked himself, frozen with his hand on your cheek before he cleared his throat and returned to his original position.

Hours he stayed like that, eyes dutifully watching over your face, pulse spiking at every sign of distress caught in your features. Your brows pinched together, lips parting as a strangled sigh left you.

Perhaps… Zoro threw caution to the wind and reached for your hand. You didn’t budge, but—and maybe he was seeing things—it looked like your face softened up a little bit. So he stayed just like that, rubbing circles into the back of your hand.

He lifted his gaze to the window, where the sun was beginning to set once again. “Wonder if the others found that witch yet…” They could be fighting for their lives, if Rosalie’s dumb plan fell through. He should be out there. Zoro’s eyes flickered all around the blue sky, worry eating at him, till he finally rose to his feet and dropped your hand. 

“I’ll be back—” Your instant whine had Zoro practically jumping out of his skin and descending back to your side all at once. “I mean, they can probably handle it. I’m still here.”

Your face returned to a state of calm as if you’d never moved at all. He scoffed out a laugh, murmuring fondly, “You little shit.” Again, little shifts in your expression hinted at a nightmare. “What’s goin’ on in there, huh?”

(Your dreams had taken a drastic turn. Dragon fire shot past your head, close enough to singe your eyelashes. The broom you’d taken up as a weapon splintered against the scaly back of your guard. The serpent burned away at the roof of your room, circling like a vulture, taunting echoes slipping off her forked tongue. As your eyes continued to flutter, sleep beckoning like a long-lost friend, you didn’t dare to succumb to the call. Should you sleep, you felt certain you would never, ever wake up. 

Yet, you were so tired. It couldn’t hurt… if you rested your eyes… if only to escape the taunting of his voice. He’s glad you’re good as dead. He never had to deal with your pining ever again. 

Every echo of doubt had you believing that just maybe, it might be true, sending you deeper into this eternal insanity).

“Zoro.”

The swordsman didn’t breathe. He couldn’t. “I’m here.” If his words had any effect on the state of you, it didn’t show. You only rustled sharply, eyes flickering all around behind your eyelids… until you fell deadly still. “Hey now. Don’t slip away just yet.”

Again, he took up your hand, willing you to keep giving him signs that you weren’t too deep into slumber. “An act of true love. Sanji could probably pull one of those out of his ass.” That thought sent him on a tangent, pictures of your effervescent smile flashing across his mind. 

Days ago, he’d been so secure on never revealing his feelings to you. The pair of you would have lived all your lives revolving around one another until you inevitably gave up, and it would be for the best. Right then and there, though, Zoro felt certain if he never looked into your eyes again he would never forgive himself for every time he turned you away. 

“I’ve always wondered,” he whispered. “Why you don’t just go after the lovecook. It’d be a hell of a lot easier than dealing with me.” 

Zoro made himself comfortable, leaning his head on the bed. “If… when you wake up, let’s go do something, like you wanted. You like painting, right? We’ll go painting. I’ll probably offend the very act of art, but maybe you’ll laugh at me, and it’ll be okay. I’ll throw paint in your hair and you’ll punch me, and it’ll be a real good time.”

Nothing. Your chest rose and fell at a concerningly slow pace. “When we get you back… I’ll apologize. For being an idiot.” Had your lips always been so dry? “But you have to wake up to hear it.”

Your condition remained unchanged… save for the stark silence coming from your nose, and the eerie stillness of your chest. Zoro’s gut churned. You were only meant to sleep, so why weren’t you breathing?

(The sleeping beauty dared to lie down, the tower burning all around her, at ease among the encroaching flames).

His hand felt at you heart, his own stuttering at how faint yours was beating. You looked so blank. Not a flaw in your void expression. Zoro, on the verge of pleading to gods he didn’t believe in, again reached for a sword that wasn’t there as a bone-chilling chuckle echoed from every corner. 

“You can’t save her~” sang a ghostly voice, right into his ear. 

Zoro slammed his ear down on his shoulder to rid himself of the shiver running down his spine. Whipping around, he ground his jaw enough to hear the chip in his teeth. “Watch me, witch.”

Her laughter mocked him. “How? You’re no prince. No knight. What’re you going to do, warrior? Kiss her and hope your honor is enough?” Carabose appeared in a misty shadow behind him, surging through his body like a specter, sending him keeling to the floor. “The princess’ soul has long belonged to me. True love doesn’t exist. Rosalie should’ve known that.”

“You’re wrong!” Zoro bellowed, something deep in his heart constricting, building up a fire in his bones. 

“Oh,” the witch hummed darkly. “I’m sure. This isn’t a fairytale, boy. Kisses don’t wake princesses… and simple swordsmen don’t save them.”

The witch’s cackle faded even as he slashed at the air with his arm, wild eyes searching till they landed back on you, unnervingly calm. If Carabose’s intention was to have her spirits discourage Zoro, she fairly succeeded; but she also succeeded in something else—giving him something to prove.  

His shoulders sunk as he just stared, taking in the hopeless sight before him. It was much too late to confess to his sleeping beauty. Even if they did find a way to wake her, who was to say she would still want him? What if some hero swoops in and takes her away?

He would be deserving of that fate, Zoro thinks, his foolishness crashing down on him even as he falls to his knees at your side once more. 

Make a note that Roronoa Zoro doesn’t believe in magic. It’s all make-believe to help children see the good in the world. He knew that full and well, deep in his heart. But something he knew with far greater certainty is that he would do anything to have the chance to love you as you loved him. 

Magic wasn’t real. But what if? Zoro felt silly for daring to think it, but even then his hand reached to cup your cheek. Wasn’t there truth to every story? Kissing princesses didn’t make the world all right. Fairytales don’t come true. 

But the sun was setting on another day with you held down by this curse, and Zoro felt pathetic and weak and he had no other plan at hand. 

“I’m an idiot,” he confessed the obvious. “I never choose what’s easy except when it comes to you. Which made it difficult, which defeated the purpose and—Never mind.” Peaceful despite the circumstances, you never stirred an inch. “Please wake up. Please… Or I’ll look really, really stupid.”

One hand on your cheek, the other bracing himself against the bed, Zoro pressed the most delicate of kisses atop your cold lips, a horrifying shiver shooting through him at how it felt like kissing a corpse. Lingering, he drew back, breath staggered at how nothing happened. You didn’t shoot awake. Not a muscle in your body twitched. Your eyes didn’t move.

“Please,” he mumbled over your lips, his forehead colliding with yours in a desperate plea. “Wake up. Wake up so I can tell you I love you.”

Unseen magic exploded around the room, wrapping around the swordsman and the princess as pride and honor were laid down at the feet of a curse that died with the far-off scream of a thwarted witch.

(The sleeping princess blinked awake, squinting from the blinding light filtering in through the open ceiling. The dragon faded to mist and the fires blew out with a hush. Words the princess had only ever dreamed of hearing echoed down to her ears, and everything went white).

You awoke from the most horrible sleep, your bones and body aching as something like a cold fever washed over you. A shallow breath fizzled out of you right before your lungs brought in as much air as they could take. Eyes flinging open, your surroundings came into focus in an instant, and you found a figure looming over you with the funniest expression.

Zoro’s face was white as a sheet, eyes wide and brows vaulted, his lips parted. He looked as if he’d seen a ghost, and a laugh left you before you could stop it. You smiled with no abandon as Zoro’s hand traced your jaw. “What’s this about?”

And it all came rushing back like a punch to your gut as Zoro’s eyes bore into you. Your lips fell into a shocked gape. “You kissed me?”

“I… uhm…” 

You slowly sat upright, hands in your lap, head tilted as you admired the man before you in a light like never before. “You love me?”

His eyes pinched shut, and you feared he regretted his confession. Perhaps it was a heat-of-the-moment thing. Maybe he didn’t mean it and you’re stupid for ever thinking he might—

“I do.” He looked as breathless as you felt. “I do love you.”

An eternity could have passed and you wouldn’t have known nor cared, all too caught up in etching his face into your memory. Hesitant, you rose to your knees, bed covers shoved aside, and your hands went to cup his face tenderly. “Tell me again.”

Warmth flooded his cheeks as your thumbs ran over his cheekbones, drawing his eyes back to yours every time they dared to flicker away. He melted into you, one hand falling to your waist and the other cupping behind your thigh. “I love you.”

Another smile burst across your face. “I love you too.” You leaned in close, nudging your nose at his cheek. “I’m gonna kiss you.”

Zoro cracked a grin, his eyes fluttering. “Okay.”

“And kiss you.” 

“Fine by me.”

“I’ll never sleep again. I’m only going to kiss you until they pry me off you, my handsome, lovely, cursebreaker swordsman—Mmph!”

His lips cut you off, surging forth to catch you unguarded. Zoro’s arms pulled you in quickly as you pushed in just as firmly, hands raking through his hair. Years you waited and years you longed. Countless nights you laid awake intending to give up come morning, only to fall back into his eyes. 

All for this. The day your soul knew would come even when your heart was doubting. 

“I love you,” you broke away to say, simply because you could.

And no witch, no curse, no destiny would ever keep you from telling him. 

Giggling at nothing at all, you leaned into him and wrapped him up in your arms, head falling to his shoulder. Your eyes drifted behind him, your whole body freezing at the sight in the corner. “What the fuck is that doing here?”

Zoro nearly broke his neck whipping it around only to choke on a laugh. The spinning wheel sat humbly to the side, purple string still running through it. “Probably was a bad idea to keep it in here.”

“You think!” You lightly flicked his nose and got a little grunt out of him. “Let’s burn it.”

A bonfire awaited the crew as they returned, their egos bruised and spirits low despite their defeat of the Wise Woman Carabose. Every last one of them nearly screamed when they saw you stoking the pillar of fire with the brightest smile on your face, Zoro’s arm round your shoulder.

You teetered this way and that, tossed around as they hugged the life out of you. Laughter came easy and the night drew long, stories of their victory recounted and certain questions about your recovery proposed.

“You needed an act of true love,” Chopper wondered, never straying far from your side as he clung to your arm. “So what happened?”

You weren’t at all subtle in your direct look at Zoro, who coughed and averted his eyes to the suddenly very interesting ground. “Someone got off their high horse and—”

“All right!” Zoro laughed awkwardly. “Cook, where’d you put the extra sake?”

Nami silently awed as she dragged you and Robin aside, begging to know exactly what happened. Somewhere through the night, Usopp looked around, lowering his glass from his lips. “What happened to Rosalie?”

You tripped over nothing at that name. “What? My godmother?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “She helped us find Cara-bitch, or whatever… When did she disappear?”

Everyone took a moment to think, blinking quickly as a single answer was formed: they didn’t know.

“That sounds like her. I just wish I could’ve said hello,” you said. 

Zoro hovered at your side, his hand ghosting over yours. “She was weird anyway.”

“Hey!”

The fire fizzled out somewhere close to dawn, though the celebration seemed far from over. Your eyes felt heavy and your body too, but every time you fell too much into drowsiness, cold terror tore through you. You weren’t joking when you declared you’d never sleep again; the prospect petrified you.

“C’mon,” Zoro muttered when your head fell to his shoulder and shot back up for the sixth time. “You need to rest.”

“I’ve slept enough—”

“That’s not what I said.” Zoro stood and offered you a hand, a gentle smile warming you from the inside out. You shoved your hand into his and started the trek below deck, departure unnoticed.

As you passed your bedroom, you stopped and stared at your bed just three seconds before you bee-lined to Zoro’s door, leading him along behind you. Dazedly, you waltzed around each other, preparing for sleep even as your heart pounded in your head. 

“What if I don’t wake up?” you wondered aloud as Zoro sunk into bed.

His eyes found yours and you swore you fell even deeper. “You will.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I love you.”

That fact was one of the only real things either of you knew, and for now, it was enough. 

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @100520s

[goatskickin]

On the first day of GOATmas, my true love sent to me...

...coffeetables! Wood recolors of coffeetables!

I've recolored every coffeetable that EA has created in a pack or expansion that:

1) already had wood recolors

2) didn't have wood recolors, but I felt that wood recolors suited them

For the colors: I am using Dynamite, Depth Charge, Shrapnel, Safety Fuse and Time Bomb by @pooklet, and Nesert and Honey by Io aka @serabiet.

Please check out the Add-On's I've recommended! They are meshes made by community members that will use these textures too. Or, they are bits of CC that go along with these nicely!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ada Quaint Coffee Table - tablecoffeequaint

notes: same texture! removed the shine though.

Centerpieces Coffee Table - tablecoffeeartnouveau

notes: not the original texture! This uses a texture from Seasons.

Chabadii Yet Another Coffee Table - tablecoffeechabudai

Notes: brand new texture! The legs are mostly the same but the top and square parts are that Seasons texture I like.

Recommended Add-on: #1

Club Distress Avigno nRectangular Coffee Table - tablecoffeeclubrectangle

notes: mostly the same texture but I messed with the edges of the top just a little.

Club Distress Square Coffee Table - tablecoffee1x1

notes: texture is unchanged but boy was this one shiny! Shininess was removed.

Recommended Add-ons: #1 #2

Coffee For Four - tablecoffeeluxury1x2

notes: uses a texture from (I think) a BG wall. Shininess removed and just the one glass recolor.

Recommended add-on: #1

Cozy Colonial End Table - tablecoffeeendcolonial1

notes: mostly the same texture! Also had the shine removed.

End To End Table - tablecoffeeenddesigner

notes: another BG table that was hugely improved by having the shine removed from the TMXT. This one has no white recolor, as the base game already had one.

Recommended Add-on: #1

Eye Of The Brain Trust - tablecoffeecomfy

notes: this is one of my very favorite coffee tables! This one uses that Seasons wood again on the top, but the legs are unchanged.

Recommended Add-on: #1

Fair Square Surface - tablecoffeejock

notes: a coffee table that I never use! But it's cute. Same texture.

Recommended Add-on: #1

Full Of It Coffee Table - tablecoffeesocialite

notes: the top is a new texture, but the bottom is the same. This table has 2 subsets, so you can mix and match the wood of the table and the decorative curlicues.

Recommended Add-on: #1

Mission Coffee Table - tablecoffeemission + tablecoffeemission1x1

notes: EA didn't repository these even though they share the exact same texture? 🤔 Texture is not changed.

Recommended Add-on: #1

Psychadelic SimAtri Coffee Table - tablecoffeegroovy

notes: this is another one of my very favorite coffee tables! I think it's got a very cool atomic age/midmod design, so I was happy to put some brand new wood textures on it. The base and top are also 2 separate subsets, so you can mix and match the woods I've made, or any other RC's you have for it.

Queen Anne Coffee Table - tablecoffeecolonial

notes: new texture! removed some shine too

Recommended Add-on: #1

Scraps Ranch Cafe Mate Coffee - tabletablecoffeepine

notes: uses a blend of 2 textures of this to make one. So cute, really.

Recommended Add-on: #1

Simple Structure End Table - tablecoffeeendvalue

notes: no need to improve on a classic! Contains no white RC as the base game already had one.

Spindle Table Recolor - tablecoffeespindle

notes: I got to be creative with this one! Uses some of the base texture, but also a few textures from the pirate ship from Bon Voyage.

Tempered Tea Table - tablecoffeecentralasian

notes: I know that not a single one of you uses this mesh regularly (me included) so this has a BRAND NEW texture. And the top and bottom are 2 separate subsets.

AND 4 different options for tops! They use the grass mat for the fire dancers from Bon Voyage, and some textures from some paneling walls.

Download - Sims 2 Coffeetable - Wood Recolors

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Recommended downloads: ariffrazalin's "One More" Slot Package For coffee tables

[moonsofmachinery]

hi heres Wolftopia be nice to him !!! I thought you guys would enjoy this design and since I spent awhile on her i figured i'd post pup all by themself :3

Copy paste of their toyhouse desc below! It's not too long but it gives context as to what her design is based off of etc! To summarize though ; Wolftopia is based off an Exoplanet of the same name that I thought was cool and pretty.

(...I'm sorry in advance to anyone who searches up 'Wolftopia' at any point expecting the planet who gets this in their search results. Very sorry.)

SPINDLING WISPS OF TWO-TONED CLOUDS - 'Wolftopia' aka 'TOI 1338 b'

Any/All + Paw/Paws, Pup/Pups, Wer/Wol

Genderfluid + Novosexual

Wolftopia, or TOI 1338 b is an exoplanet orbiting a Binary Star System which means it orbits two stars that orbit each other. This may seem rare to your One-Star centered brain, but in fact Binary Star Systems (And Multiple-Star systems with more then 2) are actually far more common then just having one star! Our sun is quite lonely in this way. Another fact that might be similarly shocking to those of you who grew up in the solar system is that most planetary systems (stars that have planets) tend to have lower numbers of planets then ours does. While systems with 8 (or more) planets do exist, they just don't tend to be as common as lower numbers of planets. However, there is quite a bit of bias in the way we detect planets- so it's not out of the realm of possibility that some stars have more planets then we thought.

On to Wolftopia herself though. He considers the stars he orbits (TOI 338 B and TOI 338 A - Note the capital letters as opposed to the lowercase of TOI 1338 b) as parents of a sort as they're quite loving and protective. Yes this is a family dynamic, yes it doesn't have much plot, but thats ok because Wolftopia isn't involved in the major Solar System anyways pup gets to be happy and healthy and can frolic and have fun. Wer also has a sibling named TOI 133 a (these names might be the death of me). Wolftopia is a kind and fun planet even if he's quite quiet. She's pretty bad at clocking sarcasm and humor so they tend to be a bit sensitive and unsure of how to navigate conversations. Paws also a therian if you didn't notice! Specifically a Wolf Therian! Yippie!!!!!!! Really I just wanted to have fun designing and drawing this cool exoplanet. I do not give a shit if theres thousands of other exoplanets just like it, wolftopia is pretty to me.

[crookedtines]

Just finished spinning my first little skein of Rambouillet! It's a completely different beast than Corriedale. It's so bouncy, spongy, and soft. You can see the Rambouillet and Corriedale side by side in what I decided is their ideal form.

The Corriedale (white) is itchy scratchy but spins very nicely into fine yarn. This is about as fine as I can easily go with my spindle, but I have a lighter spindle on the way! The ideal use case is a finely woven band/ribbon. To be dyed as needed.

The Rambouillet (green and white) is just screaming knitting yarn. I gave it my first attempt at chain plying and love the result. It looks like yarn! Like the yarn I've been buying since I was a kid! So cool. Guess I gotta (re)learn how to knit now.

[blackbirdsnonsense]

Can we talk about how, aside from being out of nowhere, this musical number basically exists to establish couples?

Blondie, being the odd one out of course, the others are the existing couple of Ashlynn & Hunter then the one this special is setting up, Daring & Roseabella

Which leaves us with the first to we see, Faybelle & Briar. Given that this is the same crew who just had the "CPR" scene between Darling & Apple in the last special, you can't tell me this scene wasn't planting the seeds of Briarbelle.

Especially when they look like this!

And you're gonna tell me that Faybelle "I want to be the next Dark Fairy" Thorn having a dream about throwing her destiny away to save the very girl she's supposed to curse doesn't MEAN anything?!

I mean the scene before the dream sequence had Faybelle horrified at the idea that Briar might have actually touched the spindle when she was teasing her about it. You'd THINK she'd be happy since that's their destiny and all! But, nope, she was legit worried for Briar. But still had to play it cool to keep her "evil rep".

Then there's the fact that the outfits they're wear were created by Faybelle & as someone here pointed out that the crystals on Briar's tiara match the look of Faybelle's wings here. I don't think that was coincidental either in or out of the story.

So while Daring & Roseabella were definitely the main focus couple of Epic Winter, I fully believe the creative team snuck in Briar & Faybelle as well.

And I salute them for it!

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Things Learned and Unlearned Ch. 8

Series Summary: Y/N has spent her life trying to outrun her mother's reputation. When she meets the rich and successful playboy, Dean Winchester, how quickly can he get her to stop running?

Pairings/Characters: Dean Winchester x Y/N, Sam Winchester, Jessica Winchester, Lucy Winchester (OC)

Warnings: Each chapter will have it's own warnings, but there will be smut, seduction, virgin!reader, playboy!dean, Edwardian era BS attitudes surrounding sex and women. (Technically it's set in 1900 and the Edwardian era started in 1901, but you get it.) Angst, Fluff, all the good stuff that regularly pops up in my series. 😁

Chapter Warnings: Bathtub shenanigans, sexy/soothing massage, thigh riding, overstimulation, multiple orgasms.

Word Count: 3,511

A/N: Here's Ch. 8. I so appreciate all the love and support you're all giving this series. Hope you enjoy the latest installment. ❤️

Series Master List || Main Master List || Tag Lists

Y/N sat down on the thick, satin blanket that covered the massive bed and ran her hand across the cool, smooth material, marveling at the room around her.

One thought came to her mind; Dean was definitely paying for this hotel. Sam and Jessica were doing well financially, but they could never afford something so incredibly luxurious.

The floors were marble, with thick, plush rugs placed around the room, warming it up both figuratively and literally. The walls were polished mahogany and home to pieces of art that likely cost more than her entire salary for three years. 

There was also a large, round, mahogany table and four, spindle-legged chairs that sat around it. In the northernmost corner of the room, sat two green, velvet-upholstered chairs with another small mahogany table between them. The chairs had wide seats and were so comfortable looking that Y/N wanted to immediately cuddle up with a book and spend a rainy afternoon eating sweets and not moving.

There were two tall, wide windows with window seats that allowed a person a perfectly unobstructed view of the beautiful hotel gardens. Because it was Christmastime, the evergreen trees in the garden were decorated with red bows, cranberries and strings of shiny beads. It was cheery and beautiful. Her suite did indeed have a private entrance that connected to these gardens and she couldn't wait to wander through them on a sunny winter day.

She also had a beautiful, private bathroom complete with a built-in bathtub that looked large enough to swim in.

Dean had told her that the staff was available to her day and night and that they would make her whatever meals she requested, she need only ask.

Y/N was trying very hard not to succumb, and immediately agree to Dean's offer. She knew she shouldn't be so easily corrupted by wealth and luxury, but she wasn't hypocritical enough to pretend that this kind of extravagance wasn't incredibly enticing.

There was a discreet knock at the door and Y/N went to answer it. When she opened the door a young woman in a maid's uniform stood on the other side. Behind her stood a very short man in an elegant suit.

Before Y/N could ask who they were, the gentleman pushed his way in, followed by numerous beautiful women dressed in stunning gowns. Y/N was somewhat taken aback by the opulence and beauty entering her hotel suite.

The man walked briskly up to her, standing very close. "My name is Mr. Lowen. I have the premiere dress salon in New York and Mr. Winchester has hired me to outfit you completely. Today we will measure you and get your opinion on some of these styles. Within three days we will have an entire wardrobe for you. You will love it."

Mr. Lowen had a high pitched voice with a southern drawl to it that Y/N found quite charming. She merely nodded, slightly dazed, and Mr. Lowen led her over to the window seat while they looked over the many gowns modeled by the women.

At first Y/N was shy to give her opinion, simply telling Mr. Lowen that yes, she liked this dress and that shoe. But he eventually managed to cajole actual opinions out of her. Yes, she loved that deep blue color, no she didn't like the puffed sleeve. She liked shoes that were simple in design, but made from fine materials.

After looking at the gowns, every inch of Y/N was measured, from head to toe, as Mr. Lowen made notes in a small notepad.

Before she knew it, two hours had passed and he was saying goodbye and kissing her on both cheeks. He promised to return in three days to personally deliver her new wardrobe.

Her guests left in a flurry of activity, and the silence and calm that followed felt soothing. Y/N decided to continue the decadence and began to draw herself a bath. The water was warm as it poured into the large tub. 

There were so many different oils and soaps on the shelf beside the tub that Y/N took quite a while deciding which to use. She finally settled on a lavender scented oil and a soap with a light rose scent. She poured some of the oil into the water before turning off the taps and climbing in.

A groan left her lips as the warm water surrounded her muscles. The gentle lavender scent of the oil made Y/N worry for a moment that she might fall asleep in the tub.

Then she heard the door leading from the gardens open and Dean's voice calling her name. Suddenly she was wide awake, her body pulsing. 

He came into the doorway of the bathroom and stopped. He slowly leaned himself against the frame and allowed a sly smile to spread across his face.

"Enjoying the facilities, I see.”

Y/N nodded, shy for a moment. But then she reminded herself that she was practicing boldness and trying out audacity, so she leaned back in the tub.

"Join me?" She asked, allowing all her desire to show in her expression as she opened her arms to reveal herself to Dean. She was thrilled at the lust that exploded behind his jade green eyes.

She licked her lips as she watched him strip out of his many layers of clothes. Finally he stepped, naked, into the tub behind her. Some of the water sloshed out of the tub as he pulled her back against him. It felt much nicer to recline against his warm, hard body than against the cold porcelain of the tub.

They lay like that for a while, Dean's arms wrapped around her and his chin resting on the top of her head. Eventually though, he sat her up and began washing her hair. He poured warm water over her scalp using the porcelain pitcher next to the tub. Then he took the rose-scented soap and lathered her hair before moving down to her neck and shoulders. He bathed all of her, and in spite of the intimacy of his touches, Y/N found only comfort there. She felt pampered and spoiled and it inexplicably made her want to cry a little.

After rinsing her off completely, Dean stepped out of the tub and wrapped a towel around his waist. He pulled open a closet Y/N hadn't even noticed before, and removed a plush, cozy dressing gown. He helped Y/N out of the tub and rubbed a thick towel briskly over her skin before wrapping her up in the dressing gown. 

He drained the tub and then led her over to the bench at the vanity. She sat down and allowed him to towel her hair before he began to run a brush gently through the strands.

All the while, through all of his ministrations, he talked to her; about his day, about his company, the rivals he was going to war with and the people he hoped to bring in as allies and partners. He told her amusing anecdotes about his employees and Y/N learned two new things about him. He was incredibly proud of his work, and he loved the people who worked for him. He talked about their families and knew all about their lives.

As he pulled her hair into a loose braid, Y/N couldn't remember the last time she had felt this at peace and content.

Then his clever, long fingered hands found the lavender oil and began a slow, delicious torture.

He pulled her dressing gown off of her shoulders and applied warm, lavender scented pressure to her shoulder blades. Without meaning to, Y/N let out a groan that surprised her in its animalistic nature.

Dean seemed completely unsurprised and merely chuckled. He slipped her dressing gown down to her waist and caressed long, strong strokes of oil into her torso and down her arms. Strong fingers spread warmth and moisture into her breasts and Y/N felt the now familiar fire shoot into her core, and the tension began to build for real.

Dean stood her up, removing the dressing gown completely. He got down on one knee in front of her and, using more oil, ran his hands from her left hip, down her thigh and calf, his fingers brushing a burning heat into her skin before doing the same to her right leg.

Then, before she could blink, he moved to sit down on the vacated bench and pulled her face down across his lap. For a moment, Y/N thought he meant to spank her, and her mind both rebelled and thrilled slightly at the idea.

But soon she felt his fingers running across her backside, rubbing the oil into the soft fleshy skin there. Every time he ran his hand across a cheek, his fingers got increasingly close to the part of her that was dying for his touch.

She could feel his hardening shaft beneath her belly, pushing up against his towel, and it only served to make her even more desperate for him.

Finally she felt his slick fingers slip into the folds of her body. She was so primed, and she was so wet for him, that it took only a few passes of his thumb across the sensitive little button there, for her to cry out her release.

But Dean was far from finished with her.

Helping her to sit up, he positioned her so she was straddling his right thigh. She held onto his upper arms for balance and rested her forehead on his shoulder as she panted and tried to catch her breath. As she breathed in, deep and slightly shaky, Dean took hold of her hips, lifting her slightly and then pressing her down, hard and fast, against his thigh. 

Y/N gasped and caught his eye, a look of surprise and wonder in her gaze as he repeated the action, flexing his thick thigh muscle this time, so that her dripping center began to throb with pleasure, her sensitive skin rubbing against the soft towel covering his leg.

“Does that feel good, sweetheart?” Dean asked, his voice gravelly and heated. Y/N could do nothing but nod frantically. When he did it again, slamming her down harder this time, she cried out and dug her fingernails into the bulging muscles in his upper arms.

He took his hands from her hips and began circling both her nipples with his fingertips, making them pucker tightly. But she wanted him to continue lifting and pressing her against that hard ridge of muscle. She was desperate to feel the pleasurable pressure against her aching core again, and she whined at Dean as she rocked slightly on his leg. 

“Please?” She whispered.

“It’s up to you now, baby. Chase that feeling.” Dean told her, but she shook her head, burying her face in the crook of his neck, embarrassed. Dean pulled away slightly, slipping his forefinger beneath her chin. 

He spoke quietly, but firmly. “You know what you want,Y/N, and you know how to get it. So go on, follow what feels good. Admit what you want and find your pleasure.” 

He encouraged her by letting his hand fall between her legs to softly stroke the sensitive button there - enough to urge her on, but not enough to provide her the friction and pressure she was craving.

“Dean.” She gasped and tried to push down on his fingers, but he pulled them away. In frustration she lifted herself slightly and then fell back onto his thigh.

“Oh!” She shouted breathlessly as that same incredible sensation swept through her body. She moved her hands to his shoulders and used them for balance and as leverage to lift her hips and then slam herself back down on him, slowly at first, but with increasing speed and intensity. 

Heat swept through her body and her aching need became stronger and stronger the more she pushed and pressed against Dean's hard body. But after nearly ten minutes of chasing her climax she felt herself waning and she dropped, exhausted, against Dean’s shoulder, whimpering softly.

“Poor baby.” Dean whispered in her ear, sending shivers skittering across her skin. 

He let his lips drift down the column of her neck before sucking delicately on her pulse point. Y/N moaned and tilted her head so he could reach it easier. 

“I know you’re tired, sweetheart; do you want me to take over?” She nodded, but he continued quickly. “I’ll warn you though, if I do, I’m gonna keep you coming and coming over and over, till you can’t breathe for pleasure - till you’re completely spent and mindless, only able to scream my name.”

He pulled her earlobe into his mouth and spoke around it. “Is that what you want, beautiful? Hmm?” 

Y/N felt like her body was going to fall over the edge just listening to his rumbling voice describing his plans for her. She nodded quickly, desperate for him to pull her apart.

With her nod, he scooped her up and took her to the bed. He threw the blankets back and laid her down, moving between her legs before stretching out on his stomach. Pulling her thighs open wide, he held her in place as he dropped his mouth to her slick folds, licking and sucking her to a climax in mere moments.

But Y/N soon found out that he hadn’t been exaggerating when he said he planned on making her fall apart over and over. He brought on the explosions one after the other - endlessly. Occasionally he gave her a few minutes reprieve, one time he even stopped long enough to bring her a glass of water to rehydrate her. But without fail, he’d return to his place between her legs and continue his exquisite torment. 

Y/N lost track of the number of times the powerful, sweeping bliss spread across her body. But the pleasure seemed to go on forever and by the end she was shaking and weeping in ecstasy.

“Please.” She croaked to Dean as she pushed her fingers through his hair. “Can’t…anymore…”

“I bet you can.” Dean said wickedly before pulling the overworked little bundle of nerves into his mouth one more time and sucking deeply.

Sure enough, she exploded again, her limbs heavy and unmoving as her body shook with her release. Tears streamed down her cheeks as her whole body weeped with aching, exhausted pleasure.

Finally Dean moved up from his long-held position between her legs to pull her against his chest. He pushed aside the sweaty tendrils of hair that clung to her temples and forehead, dropping kisses across her cheeks. 

“How are you doin’, sweetheart?” He asked and Y/N could only groan in answer. She heard the smile in his voice as he kissed the tip of her nose. “That good, huh?”

Y/N shivered as her sweat-slicked skin began to cool. She shook her head and her voice was weak and muffled. “I need another bath.”

Dean just chuckled and shook his head. “N’ah, I like you just like this, dripping wet and sated.” 

He kissed her temple and pulled her closer as she drifted off. “And completely mine.”

***

For the next three days Y/N didn’t leave her room and, in fact, spent most of her time in bed.

Dean left her dead asleep in the mornings; she’d wake up to the lingering scent of him on the pillow, but only a cold bed beside her. She appreciated that he let her keep sleeping when he left to go to work - lord knew he exhausted her enough for her to need the rest. But she’d still rather he said goodbye before he left. 

Instead she woke up alone, late in the morning, usually around ten o’clock, and rang down for a light breakfast - toast and jam with a cup of hot chocolate or coffee. After eating, she’d wash and dress in her one and only dress. 

Her suitcases had finally been found and they were on a journey back from Boston, but the train wasn’t expected to arrive for a couple of days, by which time, her new wardrobe would already be there. 

When she was dressed in her gray governess’ uniform, she’d settle into the comfortable green chairs and read for a couple of hours.

Dean usually showed up for an hour or so at lunch, and inevitably her uniform would come off quickly and she’d end up back in bed, with Dean knocking her out for the better part of the afternoon. 

It was without a doubt, the most indolent and slothful she’d ever been in all of her twenty six years…and she was loving it. 

But she was still very happy when, on the morning of the third day, she woke up just as Dean was leaving the bed to dress for work. She reached for him and grabbed his wrist.

“No, don’t go.” She said sleepily, trying to pull him back to her side.

He chuckled softly and leaned sideways so that his upper body stretched over her, while his feet stayed planted on the floor. He kissed her gently and briefly before pulling back to smile at her. 

“Sorry, beautiful girl, I wish I could stay, but I’ve gotta go. And, I’m afraid, I won’t be able to come back at lunch today. I have a meeting at the club at noon.”

Y/N pouted, truly disappointed that she’d have to go all day without seeing him.

He grinned. “I know, trust me, I would much rather have a lunch meeting with you.” He kissed her again, deeper this time, before continuing. “But I’ve put off this meeting several times over the last few days and I can’t postpone it again.”

She nodded a little sadly and Dean kissed her once more, lingering over her lips for a moment and then pulling back reluctantly. “But I’ll tell you what, Lowen should be here this afternoon with your new dresses. What do you say you pick out a walking dress and come out on the town with me tonight?”

Y/N bit her lip, trying to hide both her excitement and trepidation. “Out on the town? Where would we go?”

Dean’s smile turned teasing. “Well, if I tell you, I'll spoil the surprise, but I have all the sights of New York to show you, so wear comfortable shoes.”

Y/N laughed lightly. “None of my shoes will be comfortable. Fashion demands otherwise.”

Dean nodded. “Then I guess I’ll just have to soothe your sore feet when we get back tonight.” He reached beneath the blanket at her feet and Y/N thought he might treat her to a quick foot massage, but instead, she squealed and yanked her feet away from him as his strong fingers began to tickle her toes mercilessly.

He laughed at her affronted expression before kissing her nose quickly and patting her bottom beneath the thick blanket it was covered in, and moving away to get ready.

Y/N dozed slightly as she listened to Dean moving around in the bathroom, enjoying the pleasantly domestic sounds of him washing and shaving. He emerged dressed and ready to leave, heading towards the door. But Y/N sat up and reached out to him, calling him back to her side.

“Kiss me goodbye?” She asked sweetly.

He came to sit on her side of the bed, leaning down to brush his lips over hers, ever so softly. “Goodbye, sweetheart. I’ll see you tonight.” He murmured against her lips, nibbling on them gently.

He smelled of shaving soap and tooth polish and Y/N breathed him in like an elixir. His hair was neatly combed and she didn’t want to ruffle it, so she slipped her hands up to his cheeks, sliding them along the smooth skin there. She knew that by the time she saw him again, his five o’clock shadow would be returned to chafe her skin in that most pleasurable way. 

He turned his head, pressing his lips into the palm of her hand. The action reminded her of the very first time they’d been alone together in the library. At the time, the brush of his mouth over her skin had seemed so scandalous, so brazen. But now, the relative innocence of the caress, the softness and affectionate nature of the gesture, solidified just how far they’d come - how far she’d come - in a matter of months.

And I can never go back.

The thought was fleeting and she banished it from her mind quickly, because it felt daunting; it felt like something too permanent. She didn’t want to think about the future and what it would look like, how it would feel. She wanted to live just right there, in that very moment, with Dean’s lips soft and warm against her skin, the scent of him sharp and heady. 

The future was lifetimes away. It had to be. She needed it to be.

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters: @lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33

@alwaystiredandconfused @evznackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly

@candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma @luvr4miya

@arcannaa @viviwatchestv @winharry @ladysparkles78

Dean Fics Only: @roonthelittlespoon920 @slamminmine @zepskies @safiyas-world @aylacavebear

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom: @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl @hobby27

@waywardcheshire

Everything Incl. Fan Edits: @k-slla @leigh70 @eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007

@notinthislife50 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester

@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @deangirl96 @stoneyggirl2

[allophonicmess]

Uncanny Touch

Masterlist

You didn't get the chance to get acquainted with the new version of the doctor. So it's comes as a surprise when he suddenly wants the seduce you on a space ship at the end of the universe.

14th Doctor x reader + fake doctor x reader

Timelord!wife reader

Established relationship

1.5K Words

Angst

A little bit smutty

Written based on this request by @creelmalfoylaufeyson69 on my tumblr:

"Hello! I was wondering if you could do something angsty where Y/n prefers the fake Doctor over the real one? "

After the unconventional landing, the sudden disappearance of the Tardis, you finally arrived in the ship's cockpit. You let out a sigh of relief. Finally, some sense of control. Cockpits were good; you were trained on a Tardis type-60 but knew enough about other ships and transport systems to make an educated guess. "Okay, you two take a look at the other corridors.", you told them, sliding into the pilot's chair. You took a look at the pedals and screens in front of you. Was it built with a dual-slot engine? No, there would have to be a physical instrument to initiate ignition. Abduction core? Possibly, guessing from the symbols, there was a cooling system on the ship.

The Doctor and Donna had taken a step towards the cockpit's glass front, wondering about the edge of the universe. It was a strange concept: being at the end of everything. The thought made you shiver.

"Doctor." You called, making him step away from the glass and turn to you. "It looks like it utilizes cooler breaks. Could you go and look for any kind of cooling system?" You asked, still trying to figure out any of the written symbols.

You hadn't been able to figure out anything more than the basic number system that the Doctor had been able to translate.

"Any indication for power resources?" The Doctor leaned in next to you to take a look at the controls; he flipped through some of the slides and notifications that popped up on the screen. His hip was pressed against your knee; he didn't notice as he was too focused. But you did. You felt how warm his skin was. His heat slowly seeped into your leg, and you suddenly felt warmth rush to your face. You hadn't really touched, not in an intimate way.

But there had been no time to do so as you just popped up during the situation with the Meep. There was no time for rekindling, and you would have to wait a little longer judging the situation. "Um, no," You said softly. This position gave you the chance to finally take a better look at him.

He hummed, sliding back out between you and the screen. But not without letting his hand glide over your leg with just enough pressure to show you that his touch was deliberate. You sat up a little more straight, your eyes following his hand up to his arm and up to his face. He was looking at you with a kind smile. You huffed, reciprocating the playful sentiment. He let go, calling for Donna to follow him on his search for the ship's energy source and water system.

You stayed in the pilot's seat, trying to figure out possible syntax structures for the language you were presented with. It looked like nothing you had seen before. You were very familiar with circular writing systems, but this? Mysterious.

"Energy systems are controlled with base plate repetition filaments, Love." He informed you as he passed you on the corridor. "Ah, nice. And you gave Donna the pesky task of reenergizing them?" You asked, vaguely looking in his direction as he moved swiftly towards the other side of the cockpit. "Someone had to do it." He shrugged. He kept moving into the other room, his voice becoming muffled by the metal walls separating you. "And you had instructed me to look for a water system, no? Repetition filaments mean water spindles, so that's where I am going to solve my riddle of the day," He told you, his voice becoming smaller as he moved further into the room.

You huffed a laugh, once again focusing on the task at hand. You squinted your eyes, trying to find reoccurring elements in the symbols. Was there a word order? Did they even use words or was this a different kind of language. They may be phonemic creatures and somehow managed to create a written language.

"Whoa-"You gasped when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around you from behind. You realized it was the Doctor's.

You caught your breath, adrenaline rising in you from the sudden contact. You turned your head to look at him, but the seat's height made it impossible to look behind it.

"Are you done already?" You asked, genuinely surprised at his speed at work. He just hummed, his hands losing their pressure to slowly glide over your torso. You gasped softly at the intimate touch over your chest and belly. Was 14 going to be a touchy incarnation? Wandering hands and flirty interactions?

"I missed you." He said lowly, letting go of you, only to appear on your left. His hand was outstretched, asking you silently to take it. You studied his face for a moment. He had removed his glasses, and his dark eyes watched you with a strange energy behind them. You haven't seen him like this before. You glanced at his hand for a moment before accepting his invitation. He grinned, pulling you up quickly.

He was more substantial than you remembered, using a good amount of strength to pull you right into his chest. His grin widened, keeping you there, pressed into his front. It was new, unexpected. He had always been very levelheaded on past journeys and travels. But you couldn't get yourself to mind it very much. Not with the sudden rush you felt. He had always been romantic but never this… physically approaching.

"Hello, you." He chuckled, watching you hungrily. His right hand moved up to your chin, holding it in a firm grasp. You let out a breath, not noticing you held it. His thumb moved to your lower lip, pressing down on it and letting his finger glide over it.

"Doctor-"You gasped softly. You really wanted to tell him that you appreciated the new physical contact and were also looking forward to exploring his new form, but now, stuck with Donna on an empty ship and without a Tardis, wasn't the right moment to do so. Yet the mix of surprise and attraction made it impossible to say more than that. He chucked at your weak interjection. Letting go of your lip and letting it bounce back into place.

"Always humouring me." He whispered, grinning again, eyes moving to your lips and back up to meet your eyes. He pulled you forward to meet you in a passionate kiss, the hand on your cheek moved to your neck to hold you in place.

You gasped into the kiss when he slowly walked you backwards, turning you around so that he stood with his back to the chair.

"Taste so good." He growled, allowing you to catch your breath before letting himself fall into the pilot's chair. His left arm was still wrapped around you, making you follow his movement. You practically fell into his lap; you had enough sense not to stumble completely and sit down on his lap. Each leg was placed over his thigh as your knees bumped against the small armrests of the chair. He looked down at your position.

"Yes-"He groaned, pushing you closer with a hand against your lower back. His long fingers graced your ass, and suddenly, you didn't care so much about being stuck on a lost spaceship.

"My good girl." He hummed, going in for another kiss. He squeezed your side, nimble fingers moving under your shirt. He pulled down the neckline of your shirt, humming against your pulse.

"I've waited so long to finally have you again." The Doctor started kissing your pulse, moving towards your neck. You closed your eyes, intoxicated by him. His stubble rubbed deliciously against your skin, making you gasp.

"Doctor, we shouldn't…" But then his fingers hand found a way under your shirt. They were a bit cold, creating goosebumps as they danced over your back with gentle pressure.

"Mhm, and yet you enjoy it. You little rule-breaker." He sucked on that delicious spot where your jaw connected to your skull. His fingers had reached the claps of your bra. He kneaded the skin underneath them before unhooking them one by one. You knew that something was off. That the Doctor would never approach you like this, despite his playful and sometime unpredictable nature. But you realised with shock that you didn't care about that. Because this version of him gave you what you longed for.

"Donna?!"

"My little deserter." He pulled you closer to let his lips wander over your clavicle to go lower.

"What?" You opened your eyes, wondering if you were just hearing things. Did he just call you-

"You should have followed those orders, hmm?" He licked your neck, his hands moving to your front, just waiting to touch your-

"Donna, Love, are you there? Donna-"

Your eyes met. His emotions shifted quickly from confused to intrigued, triggered by that look of bliss and arousal on your face. But in the end, he just looked terrified as he noticed the familiar arms and white sleeves peeking out from underneath your shirt. Accustomed fingers massaging your flesh. And then that grin. He never knew he could look so terrorizing, grinning back at himself.

With you, gasping on the lap of the other him.

[milkweedman]

TDF DAY 1/ June 29

Clun forest x Shetland sample. This is a super cool and weird fleece I picked up earlier this year. It does not behave quite like the sheep wool I'm used to--the locks don't stick together and when I was washing the fleece I ended up basically picking it back out of the water lock by lock. Quite strange !

I first decided to card it.

It cards as though it's cotton--the wool sticks to the cards like crazy. It also didn't do a great job opening the locks. It resulted in a lumpy, but fuzzy and very pleasant yarn. Spun and 2 plied on a drop spindle.

Then I combed it.

It combed well, basically only needed a pass and a half. Again spun and 2 plied. Resulted in a nice yarn... not as soft and fuzzy as the carded yarn but a lot more durable I'm sure.

Lastly, I figured I might as well try combing just to open it up, then moving it to the hand cards to make a rolag.

Didn't love it...was weirdly limp and just kind of a pain. I think the better way to process this would be to open the locks individually on the cards, then card as normal.

Here's the results, steam blocked:

Top: fuzzy hand carded

Middle: combed

Bottom: combed to open, then hand carded.

I really love the texture of the top one. I think it would make an awesome blanket--it's not next to skin quality but it's pleasant anyway. Definitely a successful test. My next tests will probably be slower, I didn't go to work the day I did this and had nothing else going on other than being quite sick. So my next one will probably be one prep per day, I'm hoping.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Do you have any headcanons or anything of the sort regarding Precipice Moirai/PreMo? I'd like to hear what your thoughts are about them!

I don't think about Premo a ton (for people who are confused, this is Idia's favorite idol group), but here's how I personally picture them:

They're sisters.

They look youngish (or "ageless") but they're actually a bazillion years old. Don't ask them about how old they are or they'll give you that smile that doesn't fully reach their eyes.

Because they're so old, they've seen sooo much and are thus easily bored. They live for listening in on drama and scandals because those can get so absurd it provides some fleeting entertainment to them.

In interviews and talk shows, they drop very archaic, outdated jokes and have refined manners of speaking. It's an odd mix of how your grandma might talk combined with modern anachronisms (slang). It's very "how do you do, fellow kids" energy.

They get along in public, but they constantly bicker and act overly competitive in private (usually over borrowed items).

They came up with a really complicated and dark “anime-esque” backstory for how their group got together. No one knows if the backstory is really true or if it’s something their marketing team came up with as part of their “lore”.

In some interpretations, the Fates are specified as Clotho (who spins the threads of fate with her spindle), Lachesis (who measures the threads of fate using a measuring tape), and Atropos (who cuts the threads of fate using shears). In other interpretations, Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos represent past, present, and future respectively.

I think of each girl as being representative of one place in time. For example, the Fate representative of the present may be a carefree party goer who wants to "live in the moment", without thinking much of the consequences (the future) or her previous mistakes (the past).

I see Premo banking on these themes as motifs or image items for the corresponding idol girl (so one represents the past with her spindle, one represents the present with her measuring tape, etc.). I also headcanon that the idols have their own merch and fandom hand signals which make reference to each Fate's respective task. For example, there may be scissors on a Premo T-shirt or a scissor-like hand shape or cutting motion made to signal that you stan "Atropos" of the Fates.

Eyes are a prominent motif and are more universally associated with the group as a whole rather than an individual member. (This is because the Fates were fighting over a single eyeball in Disney's Hercules.)

It’s implied that the girls wear black, but I headcanon that most of their outfits are monochromatic, save for like maybe a few colorful accessories.

It would be cool if they also incorporated elements of Japanese mythology into their group's theme. More specifically, I love the idea of the three girls wearing a red ribbon or some slash of red on their outfits each time they perform. This would be a reference to the "red thread of fate" which permeates many east Asian cultures. It is said that this "thread of fate" connects you to someone you are destined to meet someday, someone who will change your life in some significant way. Typically this means romantically (which would fit in the culture of Japan promoting idols as "pure" and "avaliable" to their fans), but it can also be interpreted platonically. I think this makes a lot of sense given that the Fates are marketed as "three girls bound by Fate".

They blend traditional dance and attire with modern practices. It's very important to them to retain their history and culture, as well as to share it with a new generation so that they are preserved for the future.

They partner up/collaborate with organizations and programs that seek to educate others about history, such as museums and restoration projects. Again, this is because Premo truly cares about preserving history and teaching it to others.

[spindle-and-nima]

Well spindle decided to randomly hump nimas head so now my idiot rats are beefing again 💀 the dominance battle CONTINUES

[warcholica]

i really like the how the olgimskys designs in the first pathologic play around with material. obviously – mainly with fur.

big vlad has his huge fur coat – it's very much in spirit of his hes bourgeoisie caricature like design. it's arguably not the best looking and i dont think that's intentional – his coat in patho 2 is clearly supposed to look very cozy and nice. i actually like how symmetrically the fur falls in the upper back of the original design. it's charming. overall the coat really emphasizes this very old school idea of wealth.

it reads to me clearly as fashion, not as an uniform – alexanders outfit is very elaborate as well, but it does read very, well, governorish. vlads quite extravagant compared to the other rulers.

and that design philosophy is not really typical for pathologic, i don't really think it is – grief does fall into it a bit, but that's all. it makes vlad stand out in some really cool ways, as he has an unique silhuette. it's kind of insane how well theyre able deal with a character that has to overpass the barriers of their standard design. everyone knows that his face in p2 is like. insanely well made. but did you maybe notice how good his voice acting in the original pathologic is? ridicoulously good compared to like. anna. it really makes me wish they decided on more variety regarding other characters. oh well.

let's talk p1 kapella because shes obviously a showstopper. besides her obvious cuteness, i like how much it focuses on jeans as a material. it is, i think, a symbol of wealth in her case. i am polish and for me there was always this idea floating around than during the PRL period jeans was considered to be a luxury good.

(here it is represented in ryszard zamorski's sculpture "playboy"-- a pop art image of a smiling man covered in jeans from head to toe. fun. hip. well-off)

and so she is draped in jeans, just like her father is draped in fur – her wealth manifests clearly as well.

its also worth noting, that she has fur details on her collar too. that plays into the visual identity of them as a family – she is his daughter, she is a successor. i love her biig satin bow. so cute. makes her look like a very pretty rich girl. old-school wealth with a modern-ish twist.

and i think you already know where i'm going with this. yeah... vlad jr does not have any fur element in his p1 outfit. i like to overinterpret that.

like in the context, i feel fur represents mainly wealth – but it's also worth noting that it's a material foreign to the setting. i really like the spindle touch quote from p2

and i think it works for fur in p1 as well, although, obviously, every textile material comes from outside town.

but whats fur outside of that? lets think fur as a symbol a cruelty that also connects man with nature. fur as a terribly sensual material. ​

and vlad doesnt wear it: what are the reasons for that?

1. hes working with dirt. it would get dirty

2. he doesnt really like looking wealthy – hes not like the other olgimkys! the unusual simplicity is, to me, kind of reminicent of what victor is wearing – and vlads a successor to victor. in utopian ending hes supposed to tame maria/nina a little with his normalguyness. when you choose to do an utopian ending as artemy, he notes that maria will be dangerously wild without a husband

3. i think he denies himself luxury. because of how his shed looks i think hes an utopist that separates himself from the reality of his feelings – and so he separates himself from such a sensual material. but thats reallly a material for another, much more headcanonish post in which i will incorporate fragments from czesław miłosz's biography. i will make that one when ill play p2.

and btw: its a strange model, right? but i like it, i actually really do. i like how obviously blonde he is -- it is a soft callback to victoria. hes similar to her. her son.

also, i dont think it was intentional, i like how big he is in game. it feels like there is too much room for his soul in this body and so it echoes. i have the same feelings about like. ross from friends so thats more like a throwaway point.

it does manage to make him very much like a bussiness man – and vlad sr in his bourgouise caricature swag is very bussinessmannish as well. so maybe in that way he takes after him too? just a bit.

this is all very surface level analysis, but i do think about it a lot. i think p1 managed to communicate what it wanted to do with those characters very clearly through visual language.

[unidentifiedmammal]

Okay i am still procrastinating on a larger/more comprehensive post but heres some of the colors i have so far from lichens, both AM and BWM (Ammomia method, sometimes called ammonia fermentation but there's no actual bacterial activity; then the boiling water method, literally what it sounds like)

I took them under 3 different indoor light sources to try to show the variance of the colors, sadly not the sun as it is hiding behind the clouds as of late

from left to right: first two lavender-like purple are silk, dyed with an fuzzily-ID'd lecanora/ochrolechia like lichen that was AM prepared; the second one used the same lichens but prepared different (second ammonia soak)

the third one is wool using a similar lichen that was also AM prepared, i was almost worried it wouldnt work/i messed up the vat because i set the pH too low but surprisingly it didn't brown out and turned a lovely pink salmon color

the white is the base color of the silk

the fifth one is some french angora rabbit that i dyed using ruffle lichens via the BWM method; a lovely intense orange

the 6th and 8th were dyed with ruffle lichens (BWM) as well a long time ago so i don't recall the details

the 7th was dyed with usnea lichens (BWM) around the same time as 6 and 8

Finally, the last two tiny strings were AM dyed a long time ago and i almost forgot about making them!

Of course, all lichens should be collected from deadfall, not directly from a tree/rock/etc to avoid overharvesting. It's also important to keep chemical safety in mind if you work with ammonia, or even things like alum and vinegar!

All the yarn was spun myself on a drop spindle too, after dyeing the fiber clouds (very technical term i know)

I have more posts i want to make on lichen dyes and the making/using thereof once i get my head screwed back on correctly, specifically some recent shenanigans concerning the first three yarns! the chemical pigment itself, the history, the troubleshooting, etc. Which i think will be very cool

Bonus drop spindle, and a ruffle lichen comparison!

You can even see an orange spot on the otherwise minty slate green of the ruffle lichens where it had started to decompose!

[cjgladback]

So this blocking thing! It's good for more than just nuisances. I haven't knit a lot of garments yet with fiber that responds to blocking, and what I have has been like...socks where it seems unnecessary because the whole thing will be in tension while worn. But also I just don't have large pinnable surfaces, as one typically needs when the point is to soak a piece of fabric and then stretch it out to pose in the shape you want it to be until next soaking. What do I have? The ability to stack waterproof objects on a small patch of flat counter space. And thank goodness because that definitely saved this hat.

Anyway! I am happy to have used my extremely inconsistent first skeins of support-spindled yarn (see the post with them all laid out here) for a project I'll probably actually use once it's chilly again. It is comfortable, even if I'm a bit disappointed in the colorwork legibility. This is how the chart looks:

But I didn't quite manage matching gauge yarns, I'm low on practice/experience keeping tension for stranded colorwork, and probably just aiming for too loose a fabric anyway (should've found a path to increasing stitches and using smaller needles on that section) so it's very blobby.

I do have some of that green and "matching" oyster skein left, as well as a little of the finest oyster yarn I used for the ribbing. So if I use them together again, I'll probably hold the two oyster threads as one. Speaking of, I had way too much of the underplied lace yarn and wasn't happy with my first run at an even more open lace panel, so ended up frogging that back and making these sections with the lace yarn held double. Worth it! Much happier with this result. And I can see why underplied yarn has been said to do lace well; was cool how open it already was before blocking.

Image descriptions below:

[ID: Four photos of a slouchy, off-white beanie with some green colorwork being knit, blocked, and worn. The hat is constructed with a solid top of thicker yarn, strip of lace, a strip of green colorwork (meant to be jumping frogs), a matching strip of lace, and finally a long section of ribbing, broken into four strips by inverting the knits and purls.

In the first photo, with a blurred background, the beanie is still in process with a green string holding the live stitches while it's tried on, partway through the first section of ribbed brim; it fits like a misshapen mushroom, the top lace panel collapsing over the relatively tight colorwork, all under the lumpy increases of the densely knit crown.

The second photo also has a blurred background but shows the hat being blocked, gently stretched over a tower of stacked containers, widest at the top around the curved base of an upside down plastic coffee canister from crown to colorwork, the gradual taper of a hair bleach tub easing the lower lace panel into the ribbing before the very end hangs free around a peanut butter jar pedestal.

The third and fourth photos show the finished hat from the side and front, being worn by a pale-skinned brunette woman with a braid and orange t-shirt in front of painted wood paneling on an overcast day. The hat is slouched but not bulbous, blocking having stretched the colorwork horizontally and the lace vertically; a twice-rolled brim covers the lower lace panel but leaves the still not very legible frog colorwork visible. End ID]

[ID: Chart of green on white colorwork made in the Google Sheets spreadsheet software; a section in the middle is selected, though there are repeated motifs on either side. Every cell with an X in it is colored green and makes slightly horizontally stretched pixel art of a frog hopping from the right to the left; the rightmost frog is crouched under a flower or star made of four dots, to its left is a frog pushing off the ground and to its left a frog leaping horizontally through the air. The repeat is 39 stitches wide, 10 rows tall. End ID]

[sonicenvy]

So I started a new (very ambitious) embroidery project!

This project is going to be a doozy! I love this little figure from the Book of Kells, and I’ve been wanting to embroidery medieval miniatures from the Book of Kells for a long time, so why not now? I downloaded high quality images from the Book of Kells off of the Trinity College Dublin Library website, and located this little guy on Folio 27v. (Image 4) This figure is the Eagle meant to represent St. John the Evangelist and the ascension of Christ into heaven. I am not religious, but I did grow up Catholic (and in an Irish family) and I’ve long been a really passionate medievalist. I think that these illuminated manuscripts are super fucking cool, and I love medieval Irish art, so here I am.

I’ve only just started stitching (had to watch some very boring lectures for my least favorite grad school class of all time, so it was a good way to keep my hands busy!) I also at the last minute decided to do some metallic gold thread in some areas that I know are covered with gold leaf in the original image. I am choosing to use metallic thread despite the fact that I know it is Satan’s embroidery supply. I did one tiny cross with it already (see Image 3) and I am already regretting it, but it’s too late now lmao.

If I make it through this project maybe I'll do the other 3 Evangelists from Folio 27v. Will update as I go along!

Images:

Image 1: My embroidery set up laying on top of my bed spread. The bed spread is a quilt that my late grandmother made and machine embroidered back in the 1970s, when machine embroidery was hot and new. My set up includes:

Hoop

Project box that contains all of the threads I'll be using for the project, my thimble, my thread scissors, some tape to tape down loose threads on spindles, and my needles in a "pincushion" that's just a tiny ball of yarn.

My iPad for looking at the original image (and playing tunes!)

My color block reference image and my color sheet

Image 2: Close up on the color block and color sheet

Image 3: Result of my first 1:45 of stitching while listening to very boring lectures for my least favorite grad school class of all time.

Image 4: The original image, Folio 27v of the Book of Kells.

How did I get here (at the start line)? an extremely detailed step-by-step (under the cut because this post is already long af)

Downloaded the full size image of Folio 27v

Cut St. John out of the image using the pen tool in Photoshop and moved it to a new document with a clear background.

Pasted St. John into a blank high res procreate document.

Did a rough digital tracing of the image in procreate with my iPad and Apple Pencil.

Exported tracing back to my computer.

Opened tracing in Illustrator and made it into a vector. Took forever because I fucked up my procreate settings RIP.

Turned Vector into live paint object.

Opened original image in PS, and used eyedropper tool to select colors in original document. Compared those colors to the colors that I had in my stash (wanted to use mostly if not all from my stash rather than buying new floss).

Used threadcolors.com to get the hex codes for the selected threads. Made a spreadsheet of the selected colors for my reference. Printed out spreadsheet.

Colored the image using the paint bucket tool (and recolor artwork options) with the colors corresponding to selected threads. Saved Illustrator document.

Opened illustrator document in PS, gave it a solid white background and exported it as PDF.

Printed out initial copy of PDF image on blank printer paper to see if it was the right size. It wasn’t lol, so I made it bigger (super easy with vector images!) Printed test copy #2 and it was the right size.

Iron chosen fabric and stretch in Phillips head screw tightened hoop.

Printed the PDF image on Sulky Fabri-solvy, cut to size, and adhere to the surface of the stretched fabric.

Stitch, all single stranded….

total materials thus far:

Sulky Fabric Solvy

Embroidery Floss

Needles

Laptop with Photoshop, Illustrator, and Apple Numbers

The internet

iPad with Procreate and Apple Pencil

Printer

Cream colored fabric

Iron and ironing board

Scissors

Copy paper