#Expert garment cleaning

[masterdryclean]

MasterClean

Experience top-quality dry cleaning, laundry, and invisible mending services at MASTERCLEAN DRYCLEANER

[raspberryprocessinguk]

From Runway to Warehouse: The Secrets Behind Garment Warehousing Storage

Garment warehousing storage is a crucial part of the fashion industry that often goes unnoticed. The secrets behind this process unravel the intricate details and measures taken to preserve garments from the runway to the warehouse. By understanding and appreciating the role of garment warehousing storage, we can better grasp the efforts that go into delivering fashion to our wardrobes, ensuring that every piece we wear is of the highest quality.

[kr5049]

Discover the top-rated Wash and Fold Laundry Service in the USA! Our professional laundry experts ensure a pristine clean for your garments. Convenient, affordable, and eco-friendly, our services cover all your laundry needs. Experience the best Wash and Fold service near you today!

For more info, Visit our website:

[asukaskerian]

#1 N°1 Eternal War God

Feast your eyes on the most badass cosplay you have ever seen! The font of manliness, the peerless master, the only rival Bing-ge will ever have...!!!

liuqingge_1.png ; liuqingge_2.png ; liuqingge_3.png

#2 N°1 Eternal War God

Perfect replica of Cheng Luan, I pumped iron for six months for the all-natural chest muscles hahaha, and there's even a little sword charm matching little sister Mingyan's for the gege appeal! This cosplay will be debuted in full during the next great Shanghai convention, come and get your photos after the contest! 

#3 Littlest Cutest YingYingYing

Awww the little charm is so adorable!!!! Secret brocon Liu-gege~¤* 

#4 Cang Qiong Mountain Stair-Cleaning Manager

The all natural chest is also cute >:3c

#5 Peerless Cucumber (Expert)

... Is that a repurposed Japanese kimono? Are you honestly saying that covering the sober, dignified, strong-and-silent Liu Qingge's body with fancy belts and embroidery to break up the outline of *the wrong garment entirely* and distracting the viewer via slutting it up is good cosplay?

My apologies, I have unfairly maligned you -- it's a YUKATA. For those who don't know the difference, it is exactly that of silk versus cheap cotton. 

Just like the difference between an actual effort-grown chest and one shaped with badly blended makeup. There are still fingerprints in the hollow by your left lower ribs. Tssk.

#6 grass your mother and fuck your horse

Everyone pack it up, the quality check expert has shown up to close the thread 

#7 Peerless Cucumber (Expert)

#6, I have no issue with the cosplay itself but don't present it as the best and manliest when you can't even be bothered to source a local hanfu. The cosplay contest judges will laugh him out of the lineup. 

By the way, regarding the charm... Tyrian does not mean *green*. You might assume this is Airplane's lackadaisical approach to continuity but out of seven color references to Liu Mingyan's sword charm, six were synonyms for purple and amethyst and other lazy bullshit, and the seventh was a reference to her veil, which is, let's consult the database... lavender!

#8 N°1 Eternal War God

Someone looked at my abs reeeeeal close there... Jealous??

You keep going about quality control like we could actually source authentic materials, you remember we're in real life? Who cares if it's not real so long as it gives the right feel? Spoken as someone who's never gotten off his gamer chair and can only piss on the efforts of others, do better if you can

#9 The People's Daily Salute To The Heavens

/eating popcorn by the bucket

(things are heating up in the war god fandom!!!!!)

#10 Peerless Cucumber (Expert)

You know what, I think I will. See you at the contest.

#11 The People's Daily Salute To The Heavens

:O GASP

#12 Littlest Cutest YingYingYing

#11 ditto, :O GASP

#12 Little Sister Connoisseur

#11 #12 ditto ditto, :O GASPGASP

#13 grass your mother and fuck your horse

Yeah ok i'll also give it a gasp.

[thewritetofreespeech]

May I request Jack The Ripper and Hades with an s/o who's a seamstress?

“Jack, please hold still.” [Y/N] insisted as they stuck another pin into the seam line. “There’s a very good chance I could stick you if you keep moving.”

“Apologies, dearest. I am just excited.”

Jack knew of his lover’s skills with a needle & thread. Almost as deft and clean as his work with a knife. However, he had always been too shy to ask them to make him anything. Feeling it would be wrong to except a piece of their art just because they were a couple.

But when they offered to make him a new jacket, he leapt at the chance. Literally.

“I don’t know why you are so excited. It’s just a suit.” They replied with a chuckle.”

“Yes, but it is a suit that you made. By one of the finest seamstress/tailors in London.”

“I’m barely the finest in this borough.” [Y/N] said, sticking in another pin. “Not if Mr. Hertsmere has anything to say about it.”

“He won’t for long.” Jack commented off handedly, before he grinned again at his reflection in the mirror at his new suit.

“Ok. Now go take it off, carefully, so the pins don’t come out. I should have it later next week.”

Jack practically skipped off the dressing pedestal and took off the garment with expert care.

The suit was finished later that week, right on the dot, and Jack felt like he was the best dressed man in all of London. No, the world.

Mr. Hertsmere certainly thought so. Or, at least that was what Jack thought to believe when he was kind enough to spray his blood across the wall, and not his new fine suit.

“My love, you know I love you, right?”

“Yes.” [Y/N] replied. Continuing to read their book, despite hearing Hades come in the room. Their relationship was comfortable enough that they didn’t have to acknowledge each other every time they came into a room.

“That I would do anything for you and that you are the light of my life?”

“Yes….” This was getting a little suspicious, however.

“That I appreciate everything you do for me, and I treasure every gift you’ve ever given me?”

“Hades what are you….” They finally turned around and saw Hades standing there.

Battered and bloody, but physically fine, holding what was left of his jacket. “There was a bit of an accident when I was fighting the Titans…..”

[Y/N] sighed. “An accident, eh?” They asked as they stood up. “And how did you manage that?”

“Technically, it wasn’t me. I didn’t ruin it. The Titans did.”

“Of course,” they replied, and took the scraps in their hands. “There’s nothing left here for me to salvage. I take it you brought it back to show me it was damaged and not lost?” That might have been a subconscious way of thinking, but yes. [Y/N] sighed again. “I’ll make you another.”

“Thank you [Y/N].”

“Go wash up and I’ll have it finished by then. But Hades, if you ruin this one, I will never forgive you.”

Hades nodded and went to wash & get changed. He never let anything happen to his clothes again. Too afraid that his love would never speak to him again if he ruined another coat.

[aeide-thea]

Laundry stripping may be popular in certain circles, but it's important to understand the science behind the deep-cleaning practice before you decide to give it a try. Ultimately, stripping some fabrics (like silk and wool) can actually do more damage than good—and utilizing this method too frequently can prematurely age your garments. […] [Cleancult CEO Ryan] Lupberger advises against the practice altogether, especially if you were considering Borax. "It's one of the products people often use to strip laundry, but is also an irritant. It can lead to skin irritation or a rash and respiratory side effects," he says, noting that there are concerns for exposure to humans, as well as pets. […] The shock of laundry stripping is the water—the process results in a dark, seemingly disgusting pool of filth. In reality, this discoloration is largely caused by hot water leeching the dye in your clothes, causing them to run. Stripping can, however, help remove dirt, lingering body oils, detergent residue, and hard water minerals; together these soils do contribute in part to that brown-gray water, says Lupberger. According to Tide scientist Jennifer Ahoni, "Our research and laundry expertise suggests that there are more effective methods to remove build-up on fabrics." Per Tide's findings, continues Ahoni, the stripping process can actually cause issues with many textiles. "The mechanism by which washing soda precipitates out water hardness can actually form new soap scum residues on fabrics," she says. "Additionally, we have learned that low wash pH is an effective method for soap scum removal, and washing soda raises wash pH—which is the opposite direction." Not to mention the fact that washing soda can also deactivate some detergent components, preventing your wash from getting extra clean in the first place.

[undiscovered-horizon]

Welcome to Moon Siren Horticulture! - Morpheus x Witch!Reader

[MASTERLIST] | [Sandman-inspired playlist]

SUMMARY: Running a plant shop known among deities and occultists just can not be a simple job. One day, the strangest client shows up looking for a remedy for a curse.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.5k

Dirty hands, strong smells that gave you a perpetual migraine, cuts from thorns all over your hands - running a horticulture store was a physically demanding job that became only more challenging when one considered a clientele of occultists, deities and pure madmen. The other side of the coin was the curious and hardly practical methods of payment you so often received like phoenix feathers, dragon scales, mermaid tears or sasquatch fur (you were never quite convinced about the authenticity of that one). Despite having no use for them, you had kept the strange artefacts patrons of the store had given you. It seemed like the more responsible thing to do rather than abandon them in the middle of nowhere for regular people to find.

The doorbell rang when you were repotting some plants. A heavy sigh left your lips - you didn’t want to leave your little maintenance task unfinished but you knew better than to make deities o cultists wait. As you had learned quite early on, sacrifices made one quite impatient if not entitled.

“Don’t go anywhere, I’ll be back in a bit,” you said to the plant. The stems and leaves waved in a disturbingly intelligent manner as though they had a mind of their own.

Rushing through the spacious greenhouse, you were frantically wiping your dirty hands on the thick apron you wore to work, although the dirt under your fingernails seemed humorously unimportant when it came to the entirety of your appearance - no matter how clean your hands could be, dust and leaves were still in your hair and your clothes reeked of nitrophosphate. Despite being unpleasant, you had a burning suspicion that it only added to your ‘strange plant expert’ image.

The man at the counter appeared about as bizarre as he looked charming. His dark hair was dishevelled as though he had only just woken up from a deep slumber. The black coat, if the night sky could ever be sawn into a garment, stood in contrast to his pasty skin. The stranger was quite thin, making his head look disproportionately big compared to the rest of his body. His protruding cheekbones contributed to his already quite strict demeanour. A raven’s croak resounded in the small shopping area of your store.

"Welcome to the Moon Siren Horticulture!” you exclaimed with a smile known only to people who had worked retail at least once in their life. “How can I help you?"

His glistening eyes of deep blue, a starry sky reflecting in a raging sea, stared at you with a disturbing lack of emotion. "I wish to lift a curse,” he said in a low voice. Paradoxically, the brooding ones were generally more pleasant than the giddy ones - mainly because they had a tendency to keep their thoughts to themselves.

"Of course, sir but I must ask: are you sure it's a curse?” you asked him in the most polite tone you could muster. Gods were often proud but rarely were they bright.

"Do not question me,” he warned you slowly. 

Without a falter in your polite smile, you continued your inquiry: "Then tell me about this curse."

“A young boy,” he began in a breathy, low voice, “who’s neither asleep nor awake. He can not eat or drink and yet his body withers. His mind resides between life and death, inside a void between realms.”

You nodded to yourself. "Yes, I'm afraid it is a curse. A minor one, more of a hex but on a child nonetheless…” A shudder run through your body as you felt your skin crawl. "I’m sorry for being impolite. You have no idea how many old deities come through this door every day and talk about curses when they mean a common cold. Apparently, when people stop worshipping gods, the gods begin to lose their holy powers and need to wear scarves during colder months. Who would have thought?"

The sound of talons clicking against a clay pot swayed your attention. Looking away from the brooding patron, you saw the raven nip at a bell-shaped indigo flower with a golden stalk. The moment its beak touched the petals, the bird croaked loudly and jumped away from the plant.

"That's a Gilded Dendra, very poisonous. Turns your blood black. A truly horrible way to die,” you warned him. Disappearing into the greenhouse in the back of the store, you added: “You don't want to touch it, little friend!"

“Little friend? I’m kind of offended but I kind of like it,” Matthew bemurmured. “Hey, what’s a ‘moon siren’?” he asked loudly, partially expecting Morpheus to be the one who answers him.

“It’s not anything in particular,” you called back from the greenhouse. Grabbing the right pot, you were making your way back to the front of the store: “My grandfather was a sailor and had a tattoo of a siren sitting on a moon on his forearm. His wife, my grandmother, absolutely despised that tattoo, so when he passed away, she renamed the store in his memory.”

The clay pot settled on the counter with a muffled thud.

“What about this one?” the raven croaked. He was sitting on a branch of a small tree, or a big bush, with round, gold-coloured berries that looked a little too shiny and metallic to be considered ingestible. “Death by ambrosia?”

“This is Amberberry, safe to eat. It tastes like beetroot and honey. Some say they can also taste mint. Go on, have a few.” Your shoulders shrugged with disinterest. It was safe to say that working at a store that was fairly popular among the strange and divine, you were quite used to the ruckus. Redirecting your attention back to the strict-faced man, you presented him the plant you had just brought: "Long Verecund, Humilus Proceria. Often called Witch's Remedy. I’m sorry but I have to ask: have you ever prepared a cure for a curse?" 

The flower generally looked like a rare specimen of a lady bell: small, lilac petals growing along a thin, long stem. Among all the other fragrances drifting through the air of the store, including the stench of nitrophosphate that stuck to your skin, it was virtually impossible to smell the faint, sweet aroma of the plant unless one had their nose right up against the lilac flowers.

He didn’t answer you - simply stared at you in anticipation. “It’s not complicated,” you gave him a nervous laugh. To be fair, you weren’t sure why exactly you were tense: was it because his ambiguously inhuman appearance had an odd charm to it or because his apparent lack of emotions made you unsure what reaction action to expect from him? “You need to grind two parts petals to one part moon water, bring to a simmer and keep slowly mixing until it's a smooth paste. The remedy should be either ingested or used as an ointment.” Here you made a small pause, for a moment pondering whether it wasn’t rude to inquire about the boy. But the image of a child being eaten away by a slow, malicious curse made your stomach churn and your sympathetic heart yearned to know more. “Who’s he to you? If I may ask?”

“An opportunity to pay off a very old debt,” the stranger answered. His response came off as assertive but not yet crude. “Name your price, witch.” For some reason, the title came out of his mouth dripping with venom as though the sole motion of his tongue pronouncing that word made him disgusted.

“I can’t take anything in return,” you said while shaking your head. “I don’t want to. The boy’s well-being is good enough for me.”

“I did not ask if you had a price. I asked what it was.”

Surprised, you lifted your eyebrows - he had to be the very first client that insisted on paying. “What do you think this flower is worth?”

“I’m not knowledgeable in plant maintenance.”

“You misunderstood me, sir. This Long Verecund, what is it worth to you? How much does it matter whether you have it or not?”

The stranger reached inside his coat. As though he had been prepared for your wish of strange currencies, he revealed… a snowglobe? It was a small trinket, couldn’t be taller than 7 centimetres. Once the golden sand, a curious element in a snow globe, settled, a statuette of a siren sitting on a moon was visible inside the sphere. It looked like something straight out of a souvenir shop but at the same time, it was strangely personal and thoughtful. He put the item on the counter before quietly saying: “The nightmares brought by the plant shall not bother you anymore.”

You furrowed your eyebrows feeling an odd sense of dread appear in your stomach. How on Earth did he know about Widow’s Woe?

The doorbell rang again as the man opened the door. The bright sound pulled you out of your own bewilderment. “Sir?” you called out to him before he could leave your store for good. Morpheus looked at you over his shoulder, silently awaiting whatever it was you needed to tell him. “I wish you all the best. I really do.”

“Thank you.”

Part of you wished he’d swing by again but maybe not because of cursed children that time.

____

I played "Strange Horticulture" and absolutely loved it. A chill game with plants and achievements for petting a cute black cat? Hell yeah!!

[swashbucklery]

i'm rewatching Willow and i still can't comprehend what exactly Elora's weird wrap shawl thing with a hood is. or why it is. why is she wearing THE most impractical garment i've ever laid eyes upon. as the resident Willow textiles expert, what are your thoughts?

Oh I actually fully know the answer to this question!

One: if you would like to better understand the garment construction, there's a detailed knitting pattern with a schematic here. The in-show garment is definitely knitted, but if you're a crocheter this person's got you. What you need to understand is that if there is a thing that has a fandom, and in that thing there is a handknitted garment, viewers who knit have started mentally deconstructing it immediately.

BASICALLY both of these garments are a very long scarf, and then you make a big keyhole, and then more scarf, a second keyhole, then even more scarf. After you have the world's most giant scarf, you add a hood in between the keyholes. The way it's actually worn is with each hole as a sleeve; the trailing ends are then crossed in front of the body and tucked through the sleeves to secure them, which creates the crossed-bodice covering effect.

Two, in terms of practicality, I endured two years of The Improbably Clean White Mother Confesssor Traveling Dress so I know the real answer is that trailing ground-level things look really cool and High Fantasy Femme Heroine on-camera.

However, one of my favourite things to do with this show is take costume elements and read them in-character, because I think it adds another little layer of worldbuilding flavour that really pleases me. So in my heart of hearts:

Elora knit that scarf herself. Or maybe she had help with it, maybe she started knitting it and got frustrated and lost track of rows and couldn't bring herself to rip back, and someone else finished it for her. Either way that scarf was made by hand and it took a long time and so much care. I like to think about Elora packing for a long and dangerous journey and bringing something that makes her feel a little extra loved.

Assuming that scarf is made of wool (which again: idk what it's made of for costuming-sake but in-universe it would be) it is going to be warm as shit. A lovely, densely-knitted wool cape and hood, with the construction designed to allow it to wrap around the whole upper body, would actually be extremely practical for cold, damp nights and staying warm while keeping her arms free to ride or cook. The longer tails you could argue might be practical for wrapping more of the torso or using as a pillow on long nights.

You could also make the case that, while the other members of the party are outfitted with capes and other warm garments, Elora as a kitchen maid might not have had access to something like that. I've talked about this more in my fantasy textile post but basically: woven wool textiles are expensive. Something like that scarf could well be the warmest thing Elora owned, and might have been practical to bring from that perspective as well.

Anyway I love that scarf to bits, it is not something I'll ever make myself but I think it's gorgeous and incredibly distinctive, and the odd construction adds a great bit of Fantasy Je Ne Sais Quoi that is really great.

[marionrav]

Square Construction

If you get back into historical fashion, especially from areas where fabric was extremely expensive, you'll run into garments where the construction was squares, rectangles, and occasionally triangles.

That's not to say, mind you, that these garments were bad, but I think it's important to look at how they were used. Take, for example, 18th century shirts. These, quite often, were undergarments, and would be worn under a vest / coat / cravat. In this video, people who are familiar with surviving ones mention that you'd often have one for every day of the week since it's simply hard to boil them clean again.

There's also talk about how simplified construction at the shoulders or bad construction can have the entire shirt pulling backwards on you.

Here's a Viking reenactor talking about his generic Viking clothing. Again, most of these can be made from very simple shapes and are often loose enough that "fit" issues aren't really the same. In this video, he made some pants based on some that survived due to being used as ship caulking. They're once again very simple shapes.

(There's also this style of construction in various traditional dress, world wide, but I'm definitely not an expert.)

So, what can you pick up from looking at square construction styles?

They're very fabric efficient, but high end / fancy versions of things often have extra reinforcement / or extra features. A basic simplified version of something may have fit issues due to being built more to be clothing versus be comfortable / stylish clothing. An example of "extra" pieces might be all the reinforcement patches called for in the Workwomen's Guide by a Lady. Here's a basic review of the book.

Some of these garments are far easier to stitch partially by hand due to fitting parts together. Shannon Makes mentions this when she tries making a pirate shirt as quickly as possible. In an era where some or all of your sewing was by hand, it's no surprise that something would have elements easier done by hand.

There is no reason why a top, skirt, pants, or any other garment would be automatically better when made by square construction methods. People are complex 3D shapes that move around and vary from person to person.

In an era where you might be wearing clothing until it simply cannot be patched again, you might be more "luxurious" than you think. The Welsh Viking's generic Viking clothes are mostly not aimed at a extremely high end person's clothing, but he used color, trim, and elements to add luxury. He also pointed out how much some of his clothing shows totally reasonable and historically accurate wear.

If you have 1 week's worth of underthings (or less,) and 2 complete outfits at most, the cost of your clothing is a different sort of math. This is true for many eras. Nicole Rudolph, for example, built a 1920's wardrobe for a month long trip. This included formal clothes, high end fabric, and more casual clothes. She said later that she likely had too many blouses especially due to the unusually warm weather she encountered. By modern standards (ignoring the fancy ball gowns) you could argue that there's not that much clothing in her wardrobe.

[abudhabilaundryservices]

Maximizing Minimal Space: Smart Tips for Small Closet Organization

Is your small closet bursting at the seams with clothes, leaving you overwhelmed and frustrated? Fret not! With a dash of creativity, strategic planning, and a little help from the experts, you can transform your chaotic wardrobe into a beautifully organized haven. Here’s your comprehensive guide to conquering closet clutter and maximizing every inch of your limited space.

The first step in creating an organized closet is decluttering. Empty your closet and sort your items into categories like tops, bottoms, dresses, and accessories. Take a critical eye to each piece, asking yourself if it still fits, sparks joy, and remains in good condition. Be ruthless—bid adieu to anything that doesn’t meet these criteria. Consider donating or selling items that no longer suit your style but are in good shape.

The effective utilization of vertical space can be a game-changer in a small closet. Install additional shelves or stackable organizers to optimize every inch. Invest in hanging organizers equipped with various compartments to efficiently store accessories like scarves, belts, and ties. Don’t forget the closet doors—hooks can be a valuable resource for hanging purses, hats, or necklaces. Freeing up vertical space leaves room for larger items on shelves and in drawers.

Get creative with storage solutions to make the most of your closet space. Hanging shoe organizers or transparent shoe boxes keep footwear visible and easily accessible. Foldable fabric bins or storage boxes are perfect for stowing away off-season clothing on high shelves. Hanging rods or cascading hangers efficiently store clothes vertically. Try using tension rods inside the closet to organize scarves or handbags.

After decluttering, take organization up a notch by color coding and categorizing your clothes. Group garments by type (tops, bottoms, dresses) and then organize each category by color. This visually appealing and practical method simplifies finding what you need in a jiffy.

Consider storing seasonal items separately using under-bed storage containers or vacuum-sealed bags. As seasons change, rotate your wardrobe accordingly. This practice not only maximizes space but ensures you have the right clothes at hand for the current season.

Maintain an organized closet by keeping your clothes clean and wrinkle-free. Professional dry cleaning, laundry, and ironing services, such as those offered by Abu Dhabi Laundry Services, are invaluable. Entrust delicate or high-maintenance garments to their expertise, giving you more time to focus on organizing your closet.

Sustaining an organized closet requires regular upkeep. Dedicate a few minutes each week to tidying up and returning items to their designated spots. Promptly put away freshly cleaned and ironed clothes, avoiding piles on the floor. Consistent maintenance is the secret sauce to preserving your closet's orderliness.

Embrace the transformation of your small closet by implementing these practical tips and innovative storage solutions. Bid farewell to clutter and welcome a beautifully organized small closet that makes getting dressed a joy every day! Remember, with a bit of dedication, your space can become a stylish, functional oasis.

[elegantlaundry]

Unlocking Timeless Elegance with Elegant Laundry's Wash and Press Services in Dubai

Embarking on a journey to redefine laundry services, Elegant Laundry stands as a beacon for those who appreciate the art of garment care. In the heart of Dubai, we introduce the unparalleled charm of our Wash and Press Service—an ode to the uniqueness of every fabric.

Step into Elegant Laundry, and you'll sense a shift in the mundane chore of laundry. It's no longer just about Washing and Pressing; it's an art form that reveres the individuality of each garment. We go beyond cleaning; we preserve the tales woven into your fabrics.

Our laundry artisans are more than experts; they're custodians of your clothing's history. Each piece is handled with a care that surpasses the ordinary, ensuring meticulous treatment and an extended lifespan. Your garments don't just get cleaned; they receive a bespoke treatment, retaining their original allure.

Wardrobes are personal, and so is our service. From delicate silk blouses to cozy cashmere sweaters, our team's expertise in handling diverse materials ensures each piece receives individualized care. Our commitment to quality, convenience, and personalized attention sets a new standard in laundry services.

We understand that clothes aren't just fabric—they hold sentimental value. Entrust us with your laundry needs, and you'll witness meticulous attention to detail, industry expertise, and a devotion to maintaining the impeccable quality of your garments.

Indulge in the refined elegance of our Wash and Press Service—an oasis where convenience seamlessly merges with flawless quality. your garments don't just get cleaned; they receive a rejuvenating treatment that preserves their beauty and uniqueness.

In the bustling city of Dubai, where time is a coveted luxury, Elegant Laundry beckons you to experience a laundry service like no other. Our Wash and Press Service isn't just a chore; it's a celebration of your wardrobe's individuality. Trust us with your garments, and let us unfold the unmatched elegance of personalized care.

[lady-on-the-grey]

Queen Achren from Chronicles of Prydain

This is a design sheet I did (and posted) in November of 2021. I’m reposting it here now because all trace of it on Tumblr seems to have vanished, and I have no clue why, but oh fucking well, tumblr has never functioned properly and I don’t expect a change now. 

This design was primarily based on medieval heraldic gowns (which I believe were primarily English and Celtic). They have a really iconic look to them, split down the center with odd clashing patterns and bright colors, and often emblams of the person wearing them (I think, I dunno, I’m not a real dress historian). I also put Janet from Tam Lin in one, if you saw that post, although hers is a bit more accurate to actual imagery of these dresses from real medieval art I’ve seen. Achren’s look is a little more clean and sinister, I wanted it to be less clashing and garish, more elegant. I also wanted to dedicate extra love to designing her hands, which I actually based on my own. Her whole look is meant to be high fantasy fiction, not as based in real garments from the period as I’d initially planned, as there aren’t many references or extant pieces. As far as I’ve come to understand, as a fashion history novice, it seems to be debatable if these split heraldic dresses even existed, or if they were just from paintings, or what their deal is. I’m no expert, so I can’t say, but something about that draws me to them for Achren. It feels somehow appropriate. Regardless, her design and Eilonwy’s design are meant to be at complete odds, with Achren looking refined, clean, and elegent, whereas Eilonwy opts for a more peasant-inspired simple white robe and really messy vibes.

[galexystern]

butterfly wings

chapter seven; fall 1985

pairing; steve harrington/eddie munson/reader aka steddie/reader, eddie/reader

rating; T

warnings; fluff, angst, au - canon divergence

word count; 3.4k

desc; you put on a wedding and have an intimate moment with eddie.

read on ao3 / series masterlist

Steve and Robin refuse to tell you anything about the explosion, no matter how much you pester them. They just keep repeating the official story about faulty machinery, but that doesn't explain the wrecked cars and other kids that were with them after, or the weird hallucination of some crushed monster you'd had while staring at the rubble, or why Chief Hopper was there and lost to the fire. Eventually though, you notice your questions are making them uncomfortable and so you stop asking them, not wanting to give them reminders of the traumatic experience.

Since it's the middle of summer when the mall is destroyed, you, Eddie, Steve, and Robin are all out of a job. It's impossible to find another one, as they were either all filled at the beginning of summer or the other suddenly unemployed mall workers jump at any openings while Steve and Robin recovered and you and Eddie helped them. Vickie is overjoyed.

So is Nina, who immediately drafts you into wedding planning. Without any other options and not wanting to seem desperate to hang with Eddie and Steve, you reluctantly get sucked in. Your role as maid of honor also comes with plenty of responsibilities that keep you busy. Luckily, you end up having fun. You kind of turn into an expert, scheduling the band, caterers, venues, and limo service, and negotiating like a pro. (The secret is not taking no for an answer and killing with kindness.) Best of all, Nina lets you invite all your friends and sit at your own table altogether.

The time flies until the week of the wedding is upon you. You and the happy couple are frantic, scrambling to make sure everything is ready. Vickie comes over to help and teases you about your clipboard with all necessary information. You insist on approving what your friends wear, so they don't clash with the theme. Thankfully, they love you and so take this in stride, presenting options so you can pick the best one. And since you love them, you choose the ones that make them look the best as well.

This does include Steve and Eddie, who approach the situation with fond amusement. They both come over a few days before the wedding with shirt and tie choices. You study the options, eventually deciding that Eddie will wear a black shirt with his black suit—since he looks so good in it—with a dark red tie, and Steve will adorn a lightly lavender shirt with his navy blue suit—and damn does he pull it off—with a dark purple tie. They both look delicious when they try them on.

After the rehearsal and dinner, you have one of Mark's friends drive him to his apartment so he can be separate from Nina until the next day. They drunkenly try to protest but you gently remind Nina that she had asked you to make sure they spend the night apart, and that tomorrow they'll be married and Mark will be moving into your apartment after the honeymoon. She's sad but agrees with her sober self's decision.

You both wake up the next morning with excitement flooding through your veins. You have Nina take a shower first thing as you make coffee and double-check everything is ready for the afternoon. When Nina emerges, fresh and clean, you sit her at the table with a mug and plate of eggs, toast, and bacon to eat while you shower. When you're done, you hole up in Nina's room and get ready together, blasting Abba and making sure each other's hair and makeup are perfect.

Then the knocking starts and you let in the rest of the bridesmaids to join Nina. Vickie also shows up for moral support, putting on makeup as you field last-minute issues and frantic phone calls. She's impressed with how calm you are, but you feel all jumpy inside.

Once the girls are done and ready, you gather garment bags and shoes and herd everyone downstairs. You and Vickie drive the group to the church, putting them in the "bridal suite". Mark and his groomsmen arrive, happy but mellow, and you're grateful none of them look hungover. You push them into the "groom's suite" so they can't spot Nina, Mark looking like a kicked puppy dog but you don't give in.

You want to stay out and help, but Vickie convinces you there's nothing to do right now and you need to get ready. Reluctantly realizing she's right, you join the bridal party and get dressed, in a long emerald green satin style with spaghetti straps, flowy at the bottom to show off light gold shoes. Someone knocks at the door and pops their head in to inform that the string quartet has arrived. You rush out to greet them, directing them to set up near the alter. With thanks and the start of tuning, you turn around—directly into someone. Leaning back, you look up to find Steve in front of you.

"I'm sorry," he starts to say, before he really looks and recognizes you. "Oh my—beautiful?"

"Steve," you reply with a smile.

He looks dazed. "Wow, you look...well, you look beautiful."

Blushing, you thank him. "Sorry to make this short, but I have to get back," you say apologetically.

"No, no," Steve waves his hands, "go. Save the day." He gives you a dazzling smile as you walk away. You check in on Nina. She seems a little nervous but mostly excited, bouncing restlessly in the bridal suite. You reassure her that the ceremony will start soon. You go to the groom's suite and pop your head in; Mark gives you a thumbs-up at your direction to escort in his mother and have the groomsmen line up.

As you're closing the door, someone taps you on the shoulder and says, "Hey."

"Holy shit!" You swear and spin around. Behind you is Eddie, startled by your abrupt movements, hand still outstretched. You take a breath. "Sorry."

He doesn't even seem to hear it. His eyes are roving all over you. "Angel, is that you?"

"Obviously," you reply with a breathless laugh.

"Wow, you look amazing." There's awe in his expression.

You flush. "Thank you." You hear the string quartet start playing and snap into wedding mode. "Sorry, I gotta go. Steve's in there somewhere, you can sit with him if you want."

Eddie nods. "I'll find him. You get the show on the road." You smile at his wink and rush back to the bride and bridesmaids.

You leave them to line themselves up and grab the florist to help with the bouquets. You hand them out correspondingly, Nina showing off the biggest smile as you give her hers. You make sure you have your own, double-check you have the ring, and then motion for the first bridesmaid to start.

As the quartet fades out from the first song, and you and Nina stand in the doorway waiting to go, your sister whispers, "Thank you for walking me down the aisle."

You look at her with tears in your eyes and smile. "It's an honor."

Then the bridal march begins and the guests all stand. Once they're ready and looking back at you, you and Nina start the walk. You stay slow, clutching her arm, trying not to cry as you see Mark looking at Nina with all the love and adoration in the world.

The ceremony is short and sweet and beautiful. You cry at their vows and hand over the ring with only minimal issues while holding two bouquets, making the guests laugh a little. Mark dips Nina when they kiss and you're sure you cheer the loudest for them. You spot all your friends sitting together; Vickie, Jesse, Hailey, and Robin are all watching Mark and Nina, while Steve and Eddie both catch your eye and smile widely enough to make your heart race.

Thankfully, you all make it to the reception in one piece after the chaos of photos. After the rest of the wedding party is announced, Mark and Nina walk in to thundering applause and looking like they're on cloud nine. You see an errant smudge of Nina's lipstick and fix it when she's close enough, giving her a look that she avoids with a sheepish expression. Rolling your eyes, you just kiss her cheek and finally go sit with your friends.

They all cheer when you arrive at the table, and you laugh and curtsey before sitting. You're somehow between Steve and Eddie and you know that's not how you'd arranged it—but Vickie just gives you a sly look, smirking when you go pink and look away.

You collapse with exhaustion. "Thank god that's over," you say tiredly.

Everyone looks at you sympathetically. "I've got just what you need," Eddie says, patting his pocket. "But it's for later."

"Right now," Steve adds, "you need some of this." He lifts a cup filled with wine and hands it to you. You take it greedily and suck it down, which your friends laugh at.

"Dinner is any minute now," you argue, and it is. The waiters emerge and place the food. You smile triumphantly and dig in, everyone following your lead. You talk and laugh and drink as the band plays in the background. You keep glancing over to the head table to make sure Nina's having a good time.

"She's having a great time, beautiful," Steve whispers to you.

"Yeah, her day is perfect, angel," Eddie adds. "All thanks to you."

Your body heats from all their attention. Luckily, you're saved from answering by the band fading out and the singer taking the mic.

"Okay, it's that time! Can we get the gorgeous newlyweds to the floor for their first dance?"

Nina and Mark walk up to applause and start dancing as the band plays "Endless Love". You sway and close your eyes to the music, singing along softly. You feel hands grab yours and look to see that both Steve and Eddie are holding them, at the same time. They don't look at you, but Steve's thumb rubs the back of your hand and Eddie's finger taps to the rhythm of the song.

Once it ends, they let go and you guzzle wine to avoid talking about it. Then the singer is asking for you to join the dance floor to dance with your sister. You stand shakily but walk over just fine, grasping hold of Nina gratefully.

"How are you feeling?" You ask as you move back and forth to Diana Ross's "When We Grow Up".

"I feel great," Nina answers dreamily. "But how are you feeling? You were a superhero today."

"Oh, it was stressful but we got through it. Glad it's over though."

Nina laughs softly. "I kinda wish I could go back and relive it already."

"I definitely do not," you respond firmly, shaking your head. Nina chuckles and spins you before bringing you back in. "Thank you for being such a good sister." Your voice is choked up.

"Oh, sweetheart," Nina coos, brushing a thumb across your cheek. "Thank you for being the best sister a girl could ask for."

You hiccup with tears but roll your eyes. "You didn't have to one-up me. It's your day after all."

"It's always a competition," she teases. "Now," she continues, all business, "are you going to make a move on either of those two nice boys tonight?"

"What?" You go beet red. "No."

"I'm not blind, I see how you look at them. You should go for it. Either would be lucky to have you." She squeezes you.

You open your mouth to tell her that's not the problem—it's that you want them both to have you—but the song comes to a close and someone taps you on the shoulder. You turn to see Mark.

"May I cut in?" He asks, eyes only for Nina.

"Of course," you reply, stepping back so he can sweep her into his arms and farther onto the floor. You stand there for a second, just watching them, before someone touches your arm.

Steve is behind you, holding out a hand. "Dance, beautiful?"

You're reminded of dancing to "Glory Days" as you take his hand. But this turns more intimate as he brings you close and wraps an arm around your waist. You two turn in comfortable silence for a minute.

"I can't even tell you how stunning you look," Steve murmurs.

You get lost in his eyes. "Thank you." It's almost silent.

"You're welcome."

"So, Steve Harrington, what's next for you?"

He sighs. "I don't know. Robin and I are looking for jobs together. I think she might move in with me since my parents cut me off."

"You two are really close, aren't you?" There's only a little jealousy, mostly on Vickie's behalf.

"She's kinda like my soulmate, you know? Just platonic," Steve adds, then chuckles. "I didn't know that was possible."

Your heart calms once you hear "platonic". "Anything's possible."

Steve stares at you with soft eyes. "I hope so," he whispers.

You two gaze at each other, barely even dancing now. The eye contact is world-destroying. You think something could happen, might happen...but then Steve startles and steps aside to reveal Eddie.

"Mind if I cut in?" He asks nervously, and Steve backs away. He gives your hand a kiss, smiles, and then walks off.

You look at Eddie. "Hi, princess," he says brightly as he takes up Steve's position. "Having fun?"

You nod. Your pounding heart doesn't have any time to relax now that Eddie is close up as well.

"Good. You should be. It is your day."

You roll your eyes. "It's actually not."

"Semantics."

You laugh. "Well, Eddie Munson, how are you?"

"I'm great, angel. Though I'm sad we don't have math class together this year."

"Me too. It's so boring now."

"I wish I could make it not boring." He sounds wistful.

"Me too," you repeat quietly.

He looks at you with soft eyes and a small smile. Your eyes are locked together; it feels impossible to look away. Maybe now something will happen...

"I—“ Eddie starts but he cuts off as he spins around. Vickie is behind him.

"Sorry, can I take her?" She asks, not sounding sorry at all. Eddie nods amiably and kisses your hand just like Steve did before walking away with a wink. Vickie takes up position and looks at you sternly. "What are you doing?"

Your brows furrow. "What?"

"With Steve and Eddie. What are you doing?"

You go rigid. "I—I don't know—"

"You can't keep leading them on," she hisses and all traces of joy are stripped from you. "You need to choose and now."

"I—" You feel tears in your eyes. "I can't."

"Yes you can," she snaps. "You have to."

"Vickie—" You stop when you see her frustrated expression. She wouldn't get it. She won't. So you just extract yourself from her hold and run outside. You burst out the doors and walk as quickly as you can in your shoes. You come across a back area, full of cigarette butts and overturned crates, and sit on one of them. You try not to cry but it's a losing battle.

"Angel?"

Eddie steps into your field of vision and you duck your head. He rushes to crouch in front of you. "Oh, princess, what's wrong?"

You shake your head violently. He can't know.

"Come on," he pleads. "Look at me."

Unable to disappoint him, you do so. His face is sad as he wipes a tear from your cheek. You feel embarrassed, ashamed. You wish he wouldn't have to see you like this.

Eddie drags another crate over and sits next to you. He gets in real close and puts his arm around you, gently coaxing until you're leaning into his side. He smells good, like weed and pine trees, his suit soft against your cheek. His hair tickles your neck from how it's haloing you, but you don't mind.

"Will you tell me what's wrong?" You hesitate but shake your head. He sighs and rubs your shoulder soothingly. "Okay. I'm not gonna make you. But I'm here for you, you know that?"

You sniff and shrug.

He puts two fingers under your chin and lifts your head until it's inches from his own, eyes gazing into your soul.

"You know that?" He asks again, meaningfully.

You nod, captivated by his entire being, feeling magnetically pulled. In fact, you do move in, slowly, until your lips touch.

When they finally do, Eddie seemingly snaps. He pushes in and deepens the kiss, moving his hands to your waist. Following his lead, you place yourself in his lap, knees on either side of him. He clutches at you tightly, and your hands to go his hair and run through it.

"Wait," he pants out when you have to breathe.

"Want you," you gasp, kissing him again.

"Me too, princess." He kisses you back for a few seconds before breaking apart again. "But what about Steve?"

This is the moment of ruination. Because you say, without thinking, "Want him too."

Eddie literally shoves you back, pushing you perilously close to falling off his lap. "What?" He sputters. "No!"

You finally realize what you said and jump back like you've burned him. Eddie just stares at you in shock. "I'm so sorry." The words tumble out of you. "I'm so sorry." And you run away.

"Angel, wait!" Eddie calls out but you ignore him. You run into the building and dive into the crowd. You want to leave but today isn't about you, so you resolve to stay until Nina and Mark have left for the honeymoon. You find her and stick to her like glue for the next hour. She takes one look at you and grabs your hand, holding it and not letting go. Any time you see a flash of what might be Eddie or Steve's hair, you turn away, pretending to be in every conversation Nina is.

A little while later that feels like forever, Nina and Mark make their farewells. Your sister gives you a tight hug and asks if you need her to stay but you say no. She deserves this vacation. The couple escape in the limo and you immediately go find Vickie. Thankfully she's not with Steve or Eddie. When you rush up to her, her eyes turn wide and she grasps your hands.

"What happened?" She asks frantically.

You feel like crying then and there. "He rejected me."

"What? Who did?"

"It doesn't matter." You shake your head. "It was just bad. I'm getting out of here."

"I'm going with you," she says resolutely.

"What about Robin?"

She just gives you a look. "You are more important than some far-fetched crush. Here, take my keys, go to my car. I'll grab the rest of our stuff and meet you."

"Please don't let them—I can't see them—they're not—"

"Babe," Vickie interrupts gently, quieting your hiccuping statements. "I got you. They won't come near you."

You nod. Outside, you get to Vickie's car and unlock it and slide inside and curl up into yourself. You finally let yourself cry.

A few minutes later, Vickie gets in, takes one look at you, and just holds you. You hold her back as you sob. Why did you have to do that? Why did you have to do anything? Things were good. You should've been able to control your feelings. You should've been able to choose. You should've been able to keep them at a distance. You should've—

"Stop." Vickie's quiet voice comes seemingly out of the blue. "I can hear your mind running a mile a minute. You didn't do anything wrong. He's the one who's a loser for rejecting a beautiful girl like you. Okay?"

You know that's not quite true. But you nod anyway.

"Good. Let's get you home. I snuck out a huge piece of cake and we're gonna eat it all while we watch What's Up, Doc? until we're laughing so hard it comes out of our nose."

You snort and she lets go to grin at you. "See? You've got it already."

chapter eight

[washmartlaundryanddrycleaning]

Mastering the Art of Stain Removal: Techniques Used by Professional Cleaners

Stains—they're the inevitable nemesis of every well-loved garment. Whether it's a splash of red wine on a favorite white shirt or grass stains from an afternoon in the park, tackling these blemishes effectively requires more than just basic know-how. Professional cleaners, armed with their expertise and specialized techniques, have mastered the art of stain removal to restore garments to their pristine condition. Here at washmart.in, we're diving deep into the secrets of these cleaning pros and how you can apply their wisdom at home.

Understanding the Science Behind Stains

Before we delve into the methods, it's crucial to grasp the scientific complexities behind stubborn stains.. Different types of stains—whether protein-based like blood, tannin-based like coffee, or oil-based like grease—require specific treatments for effective removal. Professional cleaners leverage this knowledge to select the right approach, ensuring minimal damage to fabrics while maximizing stain removal efficiency.

Spot Treatment: A Professional's Approach

One of the hallmark techniques used by professional cleaners is spot treatment. Rather than applying detergent directly to the stained area, they often opt for targeted treatments like enzyme-based cleaners or solvent solutions. These products work to break down the stain's molecular structure, making it easier to lift from the fabric without spreading or setting further.

The Power of Steam and Heat

Another tool in the arsenal of professional cleaners is the application of steam and heat. Steam not only helps to loosen stubborn stains but also sanitizes fabrics by killing bacteria and allergens. Heat, when used judiciously, can also aid in loosening waxy or oily stains, making them more receptive to cleaning agents.

Precision and Patience: Key Traits of Professional Cleaners

Beyond the techniques and tools, professional cleaners exhibit precision and patience in their craft. They understand that rushing through the stain removal process can lead to irreversible damage. Instead, they carefully assess each stain, applying treatments methodically and allowing adequate dwell time for the cleaning agents to work their magic.

Expert Advice for Home Care

While not all of us have access to professional cleaning services on a daily basis, there are practical tips and products from washmart.in that can elevate your stain removal game at home. Look for enzyme-based detergents and pre-treatments that mimic the efficacy of professional-grade products. Additionally, investing in a quality stain remover spray can be a game-changer for handling spills and accidents promptly.

Conclusion

Mastering the art of stain removal is more than just a chore—it's a skill that combines science, technique, and a touch of finesse. By learning from the methods employed by professional cleaners, and utilizing the right products from washmart.in, you can ensure that your wardrobe stays looking its best, stain-free and ready for any occasion.

For more tips and products to conquer stains like a pro, visit washmart.in today and explore our range of premium cleaning solutions tailored to your needs.

[sanatoris]

It is one of those days he convinces his mind to try and rest, aiding it with a little bit of liquor to be fair in such a demand. The glass is light between his fingers, thumb rubbing circles against it before taking another sip. It is a quiet night, unlike the ones he spends in the Operation Rooms, bloody most of the time when it is an emergency and not an elective procedure.

The quiet doesn’t hold for so long—

The noise of GUNSHOTS thrown in the air startles him, makes his body jump, the glass TUMBLING in the counter before CRASHING into the ground. Instinctively, his head ducks down, gaze scanning the surroundings: three masked men, one seems to be rogue for they are still kicking and injuring people who are slow to comprehend their commands. Nothing serious yet—- until he sees them. Maroon dirties their upper garments and the ground below, and it takes only a second for him to rush to their side, inspecting further, until he is caught. They point their guns at him, THREATENING as they command him to freeze. He does only when his hands are pressed strongly enough against the wound, pressure halting the bleeding as much as possible. ❝ She needs a hospital! ❞ As if deaf to their words, he demands, but they don’t listen, aggressive with their threats. ❝ You won’t get whatever you want with a casualty! ❞ It’s like this is not the first time he deals with criminals, choosing the words that would probably sway them from inflecting more damage. ‘If you’re so much of an expert then fix it! No one is getting out!’ He is a doctor, and they figure it when they go throw the ID’s they have grabbed off everyone. ‘Doctor Felix Malvado, Assistant Professor and Consultant Neurosurgeon’ His own name and title makes him uncomfortable announced like that, but he escapes the thoughts, focusing on the patient at hand. ❝ I can’t do much! She needs a hospital! ❞ As if his words count for nothing, the gun is pressed to his temple, and again, his reaction makes it seem like it’s not his first, so calm and collected on the outside even if he is not on the other side. He gets the message and starts to act as fast as he can, talking to the patient through it, assuring them he will do his best. ❝ This’s going to sting. ❞ Maybe more so, but he doesn’t overshare as he grabs a bottle of liquor, needing the alcohol to wash and clean the injury. ❝ I need the First Aid Kit please! ❞ They hesitate at first, but throw it at him eventually, which he doesn’t mind as long as he gets the supplies he needs to stitch up the injury temporarily until they are allowed to go to the hospital, hopefully.

His fingers are skilled, swift and gentle as he stitches their wound to the best of his abilities, experience showing in the result on their skin, his focus never deterring even when the sound of authorities arriving and surrounding the place is LOUD, alarming the criminals to their presence and ability to interfere.

@karmasainted liked sc (for avigail)

[i-did-not-mean-to]

October 27th 🔥

Mutual Masturbation & Orgasm Denial

So, here's the last Kinktober prompt for this month...

Requested by the lovely @scyllas-revenge about the darling Éomer...

@laurfilijames because she's a babe and my most beloved smut-expert!

Have fun and remember the warnings, please! This is NSFW!

Words: 1,1k

Warnings: NSFW, smut, porn, mutual masturbation

“You have to be quiet,” Éomer whispered urgently as he towards you with all the confidence of a senior commander about to brief an officer; at this distance though, you could clearly see the flash of dark desire in his beautiful, deep eyes.

At the foot of the hill, the rest of the company was getting ready to settle in for the night but – as you had the first watch – you were casually leaning against a tree while surveying the surroundings with a placid eye; it had been months since the last sighting of intruders and roving orc bands, so you were not expecting anything major to be discovered during this scouting trip.

While you had been scanning the rolling hills, Éomer had finally made his way to you; he was now standing very near to you as if to shield you from the cool wind that was stronger here than in the valley.

“My king?” you smirked and gasped when his hand moved forward as if to rest on the rough bark of the tree behind you but snaked between your thighs instead. “What are you doing?”

“Hush,” he laughed and stepped even closer to you; if you could see the men spreading out their bedrolls, they could just as easily lift their gazes and see you. Of course, from their vantage point, it would be near impossible for them to tell much distance truly was between your king and your body which was something that self-same man seemed to take advantage of.

The smell of leather, wet earth, and man made your head spin and – almost despite yourself – you reached out to him and touched a shivering, grasping hand to his chest over the thin tunic he was wearing, having recklessly left his armour by his bedroll, at an angle that would make it impossible to see your movements from below.

“My pretty one,” he growled in his throat while his fingers, moving deftly over your worn, soft leggings until you felt your knees buckle, drove the heat into your cheeks.

You bit down hard on your lower lip to keep from crying out as Éomer cupped your mound roughly and – applying steady pressure – ground the heel of his hand against the very spot where you needed friction the most; as you whimpered softly, rocking eagerly into his seeking touch, you could see his eyes darken even further and the bulge between his own legs swell quickly.

Emboldened by his forwardness and secure in the certitude that the other members of your company could not divine what passed between the two of you, you dropped your hand from his chest to the lacings of his trousers and started undoing them with trembling fingers.

As soon as you had freed his cock, you slung your fingers tightly around it and started pumping your hand so slowly that his eyes rolled back into his head with unspoken pleasure.

Time slowed to a crawl around you as your digits teased and enticed one another to the point of cursing the Gods, the company slumbering peacefully, and the bare hill you were standing on bitterly. If only you had been in a densely wooded area, he might have pushed you up against the tree – shielded from prying eyes – and plunged into you as into a clean stream.

Unfortunately, that was not an option at this present time and so, you were forced to feel sticky moisture seep through the garment clinging to your shivering thighs as he increased both the pace and the pressure of his caresses while his other hand slipped under your loose tunic to massage your breast, short nails scraping tantalisingly over your hardened nipples.

A muffled sob escaped you and your hand tightened around his cock, relishing the smooth heat it exuded as it glided heavily through your fingers, slippery with the clear liquid oozing from its tip. Your mouth was watering with yearning; how you would have loved to sink to your knees and close your prickling lips around his impressive girth to watch him throw back his head as he did when he rode, bareback, on a wild stallion down the steep slopes of his homeland.

“Not yet, my beautiful love,” he chuckled darkly, the endearments dripping like molten wax off his lips that were too far for you to ravage with frantic kisses and so you merely scowled and redoubled the force of your own assault on him.

With a strangled moan, he punished you by reverting to featherlight, teasing caresses where there had been fire and urgency just a moment before; the tide of black lust rising in your throat and constricting your airways turned into torturous emptiness and yearning as he went on – for quite some time – just touching you ever so delicately.

His face was flushed a dark, pulsating crimson with frustration now as you had matched his cruelty by simply squeezing the base of his prick tightly without granting him any of those silken strokes he so longed for.

“I can’t,” you gasped as your hips jerked towards him, begging him in ways your pride would not allow your mouth to put into words.

“Together then,” he whispered huskily, “but remember, we have to be quiet.”

While the upstanding, honourable members of your company slept soundly, you slammed your head into the tree that held you up with a muted bang as Éomer gave in to your wordless pleading and – nimble fingers aflutter and sturdy hand grinding down on your most vulnerable spots – pushed you over the edge of a delirious climax. 

The world that had held its breath around you for too long came alive again with a mighty roar and your whole body shivered; the spasms of your orgasm loosened your hands and – as your fingers sought purchase anywhere they could – you inadvertently pulled your king into the abyss alongside you.

Spurts of white liquid fell like moon tears onto the green grass between you and he sagged against you, his head resting heavily on your fully clothed shoulder.

If anyone was still awake, they’d wonder what important piece of advice or order their captain and king had to impart so urgently that he’d walk up the hill and stay there – in deep, intimate conversation – with the soldier on duty for such a long moment.

Nevertheless, you sincerely hoped that nobody had witnessed this scene because – even if they could not have seen what had passed between Éomer and you – the ragged breath, the flushed faces, and the sated smiles echoing back and forth between your moonlit faces would have been enough to let anyone know that this had not been strictly professional. 

So, that was it for the smut from me this month :D

Lots of love and take care of yourselves!

-> Masterlist