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#i want to cut myself into ribbons
szczylpierdolony · 1 year
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i need,,, ribbons,,,,
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shiny-jr · 10 months
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from POMEFIORE
- Warning: Yes, this is still a yandere thing. You have been warned. Gender-neutral reader. 
- Characters: Vil Schoenheit, Rook Hunt, Epel Felmier.
- Summary: (Continuation, after this “we just got a letter, wonder where it’s from”) You have barred them from entering the safety of Ramshackle Dorm, but they are determined to make their words reach you. Which is why the letters begin arriving at your doorstep.
- Note: Hoping its not too out of character.
Ignihyde   |   Pomefiore   |   Scarabia
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Perfume. The carefully sealed envelope reeked of it, like the sweet smell of lavender with spice. The envelope containing the message looked like something you would find when getting an invitation to a ball or a wedding. The envelope was pristine, and the wax sealing it was done so perfectly without a single awkward edge.
It almost looked unnatural with how perfect it appeared. The thick beige parchment was cut evenly, and not a blot of ink strayed from the elegantly curved cursive words that looked like ribbons upon the page. Looks could be deceiving. It was beautiful, but as you might've already guessed, the interior didn't entirely match what was hidden beneath the surface.
To my darling player,
I am at fault and take full responsibility for my actions.
All I've ever wished for, was to admire you. You are the epitome of magnificence, divinity that I can only dream to one day achieve but knowing I will never truly reach. There's an otherworldly sort of allure to you, which drew me in far too close. Much like the man who enhanced himself with wings of wax, but flew too close to the sun so his wings melted and he met a terrible fate. You are the sun, and I was that reckless fool with fake wings.
I allowed myself to get too close, tainting your light with my imperfect presence. Your grace was the warm sunlight on my skin, when everything around me was a horrible darkness. To think, I attempted to put out that light. It was nearly diminished. For that, I should be burned. I'm sorry, so so sorry.
I've thought long and hard on what I could possibly say to you, what sort of response could be adequate enough considering what you mean to me and the delicate situation. It didn't take long for me to arrive to the answer: no response is fitting. It doesn't matter if I pen a letter long enough to rival the river of tears I shed, coat the envelope in gold and ink of silver, with a message that would have moved the seven themselves to weep. It does not change the betrayal that occurred. I betrayed the trust you gave me, and shattered it into millions of pieces. However, know that I'll be on my hands and knees piecing it back together again, even if the shards cause me to bleed, you are worth it.
The stabbing sensation on my skin would be nothing compared to the one in my heart that I feel when I consider the fact that you might despise me. There's nothing more I would want than to see your face, hold your hands and feel the warmth of your skin that's so unlike the coldness of your vessel. Requesting a meeting would be imperious, as I have no right to ask you of this. But if I could, I would love to see you and discuss what comes next, perhaps over lunch. This is just a thought, a wish of mine, but one you are not required to fulfill.
I'd love to believe that I know you and your vessel better than anyone else could even dream of understanding, but I know that is far from the truth. Even as I pampered and polished your precious doll, your secrets continue to escape me. Did you ever hear me, when I brushed and washed Yuu's hair? When I took their freezing cold hands and painted their nails? When kneeled down in front of them to polish their shoes? When I adorned the best luxuries of brand accessories on their body?
I would kneel down to no one else.
There was always this wish, a dream of mine, that one day I might perhaps one day get to pamper you. Not Yuu. But you. Is that a scandalous desire?
Your hands would be warm, and I would hold them as I file your nails. Your arm wouldn't be so rigid and mechanical, you could actually extend it as I slather a creamy scented lotion along your skin. And if you do desired, I could lift your head and apply lipstick to your lips... This is just the process I commonly used while your vessel was under my care.
Although, I would gladly take up the responsibility of nursing you back to health, or any other role you would give me. There are countless things I can accomplish for you. I commonly deal in potent poisons, but I can just as well deal in healing and comforting. I'm skilled in self-defense and various forms of magic, so I can be your companion to protect you from everything that would wish you harm. You know of my business in acting and singing, so even if you wanted nothing else I could be there to entertain or serenade you. I only wish to be with you again, even though I know I'm underserving. I'm selfish.
If you want nothing more, then I have to be satisfied knowing I was in your thoughts for a brief moment. A twisted part of me wants your mind to be plagued by thoughts of me, just as my mind and heart is full of you.
I have to remind myself, that by getting too close I risk being burnt. But, at this point, I do not care for my own safety. I only care for yours, and I do this to keep my sanity. I truly admire you so much, that I cannot adore you from afar behind a rope like sculpture in a museum. I have to stand nearby, inspect your beauty, polish you to a shine, and value you like the priceless treasure that you are. Should someone threaten to chip off even the slightest speck on you, forcing you through more suffering...
I will shatter them into a million pieces, to preserve your peace.
Yours,
Vil Schoenheit
The wonderful aromatic smell that filled your nose brought back some not so pleasant memories. The smell of the earth beneath your feet, the scent of dew collected on every still surface, but above all were fragrant tangs that immediately alerted you to any nearby presence of a student belonging to Pomefiore.
They had chased you through those deep dark woods, like a pack of rabid hounds tracking and hunting a poor wounded rabbit. Besides their shouts and footfall, their perfume gave them away. There was one in particular which you only caught a whiff of only when you had too closely encountered the dormleader. The scent of lavender and spice hit your nose, the same fragrance on the letter.
"That reeks! Burn it!" A certain feline hissed, covering his little black nose with his paws. You swore the fragrance was beginning to form a migraine at the front of your skull. If the smell was strong for you, it must've been much worse for Grim since he had a superior sense of smell.
Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, if the smell wasn't that strong and it wasn't the particular scent. Like vanilla or freshly baked bread. If that were the case, Grim might've insisted on keeping it or even be tempted to take a bite out of the sheet.
But it was lavender and spice. So the letter was tossed into a corner several feet away, left to an unknown fate that you would ultimately decide later. When you glanced back to Grim, you saw him holding and sniffing another letter.
For a long moment his sniffed the rolled up paper, his black nose twitching as he was likely just searching for another gift to claim as a snack. After a few seconds, he discarded it, sliding it over to you before he opted to dig through the pile like a raccoon digging into a heap of trash. "Meh, this one smells boring."
"Boring, huh?"
Boring wouldn't exactly be your choice of adjectives to describe this letter. It wasn't an envelope, it was a scroll tied by ribbon, attached to an arrow. An arrow, of all things, was likely the messenger for this message. Thankfully, this one didn't smell of anything. Even without a fragrance to match to a profile, the arrow was a dead giveaway.
Opening it up and using your hands to smooth out the curled edges, you blatantly ignored the wax seal over the ribbon. Once it was fully unsealed, a few single flower petals drifted down from the paper. Just another mess you would sweep up later and decide whether to dispose of it or not, like the first letter from the dormleader. For this one you were a pinch anxious. The sender was not like the others who came before.
Trickster,
It relieves me to see that you are finally safe.
To see you rest and heal in tranquility, nothing steadies my anxiously beating heart more than knowing you are sheltered. Well guarded by a trio of ghosts and the courageous feline Grim, I have no need to stress over your wellbeing with them acting as your valiant knights in shining armor! Although, I would also wish to join their ranks, blessed by your grace and fit to serve as your shield. However...
I am conscious enough to know that I am nowhere near fitting, no matter how much I may wish to reach out and shield you from every evil. In that most vital moment, I had failed to recognize you. I may have spared you from the sharpness of my blade, but I couldn't have guarded you from the suffering that was to come afterwards.
I'm so deeply and truly sorry. Many sleepless nights have followed, since and even before our first fateful encounter in those woods of the Pomefiore estate. Before our encounter, I was conflicted. I wanted to detest you, but I could not, I thought there must be a reason this was all occurring. I couldn't slumber peacefully, so long as I knew there was turbulence surrounding your beloved vessel. After our encounter, I couldn't get the vision of you fragile, frightened, and wounded, out of my mind. Raising a blade against you, who were a stranger shrouded in infamy, made my very heart stop.
Now I know why I was so unexplainably drawn to you. It was not due to the wild frenzy that overtook the entire campus, or a burning hatred to destroy, or even my own desire to discover answers I desperately wanted, although that last one may have played a role. The reason as to I was so enticed by you, a cunning 'imposter,' was because my heart recognized you. It must have been my very soul that pulled me towards you, and perhaps my own nature as well. My body recognized you, my heart and my soul led me to you, but I was blinded by my sorrows.
Throughout the few years I've had on this wonderful earth, I've seen countless peoples, and you are unlike any of which I've seen. In the places I've been, I have witnessed poetry be written by masters of literacy, melodies sung by the most angelic voices ever heard on a stage, and devoted worshippers in holy places kneel in solemn prayer. Somehow you as a single being, or entity, encompass all those elements into one. My aim is to admire beauty, and I see beauty in its finest form when I look at you.
I truly understand what you mean to me, and to others.
But at the same time, you remain a mystery. And I believe I'm speaking for all those who admire you when I say this. We could only dream of truly understanding you, when we only had Yuu.
So, I try to make sense of it all in what I do understand, in the beautiful things I adore that I associate with you who I cherish. In literature, music, photography, I see you in everything all at once. When I read poetic lines, I think I could share it with you. When I hear beautiful music, I imagine you might enjoy listening to the tune too. When I discover stunning sceneries, I plan to bring you there someday to share a moment with you.
Now, I can make sense of it. I understand how the poets of old felt as they penned the love and awe they felt towards the Fairest Queen. It's a rare sentiment that cannot easily be put into words, a feeling as if it held my delicate heart and squeezed when I so much as thought of you. When a song and its composer can bring an audience to tears, I understand that now too. Hearing your voice for the first time, formed a knot in my throat that prevented me from saying much. Catching that first glimpse of you, was like gazing at a perfect painted portrait hanging in a museum.
My dearest player, I am a Hunt. I am naturally inquisitive by nature, and my fondness for you comes just as naturally. You may consider it wrong, but I will continue to offer my loyalty even if you may not accept it.
My aim is to one day unlock your secrets, solve your mysteries, and understand you fully, learn what makes you tick and what drives you forward. Perhaps when the day comes when you've forgiven me for my crimes, I can proudly stand in your presence and recite the poems I have written in your name. I could admire you everyday from then on, and remind you everyday of your worth. Then, I will protect you, from all harm, and I will not allow myself to fail you once again. This is a promise.
Should you need me, I will be there.
Yours,
Rook Hunt
There was something that felt... off. Compared to some of the previous letters, these were rather tame. Of course, there was the desperation and fascination evident in their words captured by the ink, but it was nowhere near as extreme as other cases.
Although, it was still chilling, to read the thoughts they penned.
In your hand you held the arrow the letter had been connected to, feeling its thin shape and the sharpened head at its tip that nearly pricked your finger. The vice dormleader had excellent aim, and had he not been so kind, arrows like this one in your hand could've easily been driven through your flesh and caught you against a tree where you would've been helpless in their grasps.
And yet, despite the opportunities he had, he didn't let a single weapon touch you. All it would take was one arrow, one moment and he could've ended you where you stood. But he spared you. However, there's the lingering doubt that maybe the primary reason he did it was he hoped you had answers to the malfunctioning vessel. You couldn't be sure exactly why he spared you, when everyone had wanted to torment and imprison you or worse.
Beside you, there's a large crunch and a content purr. When you look over, there's Grim, happily munching away on an apple he held with his little paws. He sank his fangs into the fruit, content that he finally found an offering that appeased him. In front of him was a small basket, filled with more juicy red apples.
"These are great! And, even though I was the one who found them, I'll let you have some!" Grim picked up another apple from the basket, sticking his claws into the red peel and offering it with his little grin. Nevermind the fact that these were probably meant as a gift for you and not for him, but you didn't mind. They would have likely ended up in the trash anyways, at least someone could enjoy them.
"You should really have one. You haven't eaten all day."
"I'm not hungry, but thanks. You can have them." Ever since everything happened, you weren't too keen on accepting gifts, especially if they were consumable. For now, the only places you'd accept food from, was the cafeteria you'd venture too at the dead of night when no one was there, or Sam's shop.
In the spot of the basket where Grim had removed the apple, there was a white layer at the bottom of the basket. Perplexed, you reached in and found an envelope hidden by the piled apples.
Unsurprisingly, the envelope smelled of sweet things, apples, cinnamon, and freshly baked pies. The envelope itself was nothing special, it had no intricate wax seal or marking. It was loosely sealed shut by a brown piece of string, and covered in some white and pink apples blossoms.
The inside was less impressive, more authentic, which was refreshing in a way. Smooth cursive flowed into slightly choppy print scrawled out in uneven lines, before eventually returning back to cursive at the end of some sentences. It appears parts were rushed judging by the blotted ink stains at multiple periods. The apples were a clue as to who the sender may be, but why would the letter be hidden in a gift?
Dear Player,
If you're reading this, that means my letter got through.
Where do I even start? It seems right that I first say sorry. I'm sorry. It sounds like a load of bull, but I am sorry. Apologizing in all these other ways, won't make this any better, so, I thought this might help. I'm gonna be completely honest with you, no lies, no tricks, just the blunt truth. I'm not going to be showing you these pretty sides I polished to impress and to mask all the ugly. I'll tell you everything that's been going on. That's something only I have the guts to do.
The reason I hid this letter was because Vil and Rook have been checking anything I want to write to you. They want to keep up this positive front, they wanna at least pretend to be perfect enough to be near you. At least, that's what I think. Although I know we won't ever come close to that.
Instead of trying to write a real and honest letter for you, it feels like I was writing some essay for Professor Trein to grade. I'd have to write and write, and even if the grammar was right, the message wasn't. They want to make you think everything's okay, when it's not. I can only imagine what elegant crap they were spewing in their own fancy letters, while we're actually all a mess. We've been like this since Yuu broke down. I try to understand them, and in a way I do, but sometimes they freak me out. Yeah, I got my own problems trying to comprehend all this chaos, but they're different.
Is everyone else in the other dorms this extreme? This miserable and on the verge of breaking? Maybe you won't believe me, or maybe you'll realize that there's some truth to what I'm saying. Here, in Pomefiore, I can only tell you what I've seen. These days, Rook's smile seems strained, like he's about to snap, his eyes are sharp and watchful. The only time his smile is normal is when he's looking at some photo, but he won't ever let me see what it is. Vil, well, the only sign he's still alive and kicking are the packages that come in for him, new makeup and all that stuff, things he's using to craft that perfect mask. I did see him one night out in the hall, I swear there was mascara down his face but I was too put off to approach when he was like that.
Don't ever tell them I told you all this. Vil would probably skin me alive and wear me as a robe, and Rook... I don't want to think about what he would do... I'm kidding by the way, but seriously, don't ever tell them. I told you I would be honest to you, so here's my reason. I thought that maybe telling you all this would score me points with you, get you to trust me again. Even if this is a rotten way to go about it, I don't care.
I am rotten, and I won't hide it like them.
If I can't even be honest with you, then do I really deserve a second chance at all?
Scratch that. I don't deserve a second chance at all after everything that happened. What I did was downright terrible, but I'm trying my damnedest to be deserving again. And I won't stop trying, even if part of me thinks it's useless. I never cared for Yuu, the only reason I acted for them was because it was you behind them. My goal is to eventually be beside you, the real you.
Although, a basket of apples is a crummy way to go about things, but think of it like a peace offering. Just cause I can't get word to you, don't mean I give up. I'm not giving up. Ever. Everyone's going about their own roundabout ways of mending things. If you want to hear more, I'll gladly tell you. I don't think anyone else would tell you the truth of what's happening, because in a sense everyone wants to appeal to you with the best image of themselves they can possible portray. Don't believe all the hogwash they send you. If whoever sends something and seems to be stable, they're not. Not completely.
I'm awfully ashamed to admit it, but I'm not okay. Not since everything started, and not since everything went to hell when shit hit the fan. I'm not okay without you, and I got myself to blame for that.
This letter is helping. The thought of communicating with you again, even if I can't see your face or hear your voice and its reduced to words on paper, it's more than I could ask for. So, if you want me to spill the beans, just ask. If not, if there's no response, well, I'll get a bit of comfort thinking you might've read this. Besides, I have hope with each attempt I'll make. I'm not just rottenly selfish, I'm stubborn to a fault. And if I have to knock down someone else's chances to get closer, then that's fine by me.
All you gotta do is talk to me.
Until then, hoping to speak to you soon,
Epel Felmier
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hildergard · 2 months
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just thinking about aemond x lowborn!reader (I found myself in love with that trope) he helps her by giving her food, money, clothes, and stuff. but the reader is a younger daughter or lives in a toxic environment and everything is monopolized by her family and when aemond finds out he simply sees red. i'm sorry if this doesn't make sense, but the idea is there!!!
PRECIOUS ★ AEMOND TARGARYEN
PAIRING | Aemond Targaryen x Lowborn!Reader
TAGS | Swearing, suggestive content, dysfunctional family
WORDCOUNT | 2.7k
NOTE | Enjoy this thing I wrote in one sitting and did not edit. If you see any mistake... no you did not. There probably is⏤English is not my first language. In my mind, they are "rich" enough to buy food so I focused on gifts instead. I hope you'll like it nonetheless. I tried to keep it short this time and, for once, I think I succeeded! Thank you for requesting this great prompt <333
likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated!
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Downstairs, the intoxicated patrons sang their bawdy songs and shook the walls of the inn. Their lewd rhymes travelled through the dingy floorboards and vanished against your parted lips. 
A hand went up your spine, grazed your shoulders, and stopped on your sweaty neck. 
“Where is it?”
The voice hit the air and sent shivers down your spine. That authoritative tone, those proudly exhaled consonants, those whispered vowels... His words exuded nobility and education and set your whole body ablaze. You closed your eyes for a second and imagined yourself blessed with such gift of the gab, but your sentence fell awkwardly from your bruised lips.
“What do you mean?”
The sticky sheets crumpled under your weight. You squinted to make out the silhouette of your lover. In the moonlight, his hair looked as if it had been woven from the stars. 
“Where is your necklace?" Aemond asked.
Mindlessly, your fingers hit an infinity of naked flesh. You gulped. 
“Oh... Well... I didn't want to wear a beautiful object liked that in Flea Bottom. Thieves are everywhere with the blockade–”
“I gave it to you for you to wear it," he cut you off. 
The pitch-dark night itself could not hide his discontent. 
“I know, my love," you say softly. 
He had been so happy to give it to you. The gold chain and the sapphire still sparkled in your dreams. Sometimes, at night, you would remember Aemond's delicate fingers against your neck, the refreshing coldness of the precious metal on your flesh, its weight against your throat... And then, the sun would tear you from your dreams and the only thing left around your neck would be the knot of your guilt.
“No matter," he finally said. 
Your prince's fingers descended on your chest, brushed against your nipple but did not linger, much to your regret. Aemond got out of bed and left your body cold⏤it was so easy to let yourself be consumed by dragonfire. It burned your heart oh so beautifully. 
Without a word, Aemond bent down and took a packet out of his leather bag. You looked away from his naked body, your cheeks aflame. The many nights you had spent with him, learning the map of his muscles and flesh, had done nothing for your shyness. It died in an explosion of pleasure each night but would always be reborn in the painful awareness left in the vanishing carnal bliss. 
Aemond came back and handed you the gift, one knee resting on the thin mattress. A lump twisted in your throat and rendered you speechless. With a trembling hand, you pulled the ribbon and let the fabric fall to reveal a magnificent dress. 
You closed your eyes for a moment and forced a smile onto your face.
“You shouldn't have," you said through clenched teeth. 
“You say that every time," he laughed. “And you know very well that I will not stop. You deserve to be pampered, my love."
You don't command a nobleman, let alone a Targaryen. Perhaps that was why Aemond kept ignoring your request, for it never changed. Every gift was answered with this phrase. There was no false modesty there, just the familiar, creeping guilt⏤an old enemy coming to torment you. 
“It’s beautiful.”
Your fingers brushed against the blue bodice, where golden threads wove in a fine, expensive, embroidery⏤a huge dragon slumbered in a field of flowers. 
At your words, Aemond smiled brightly and kissed your forehead. His lips left their wet imprint, which you did not wipe away. You would cherish its feeling a little longer. He moved down your cheeks and finally attacked your lips. You groaned and buried your hand in his hair before pressing your chest against his.
“I must go now," he said reluctantly between kisses. 
You stepped back with a sigh and glanced at the window. The hour of the wolf was darkening the sky. Downstairs, the patrons had quietened down. Heavy, awkward footsteps echoed in the corridor and doors slammed. 
At last, the more festive souls were going to bed. 
If you listened carefully, you could hear the bakers already hard at work. The first to rise, they sweetened the dreams of citizens with the sweet and greedy fragrances they distilled in the streets. 
Aemond slumped onto the bed one last time and pulled you in for a last kiss. 
“The next time I see you, I will rip that silk off your body," he smiled before pointing to the discarded dress. 
You nodded, avoiding his gaze, and kissed him one last time. 
Aemond⏤hood falling on his head⏤disappeared with an uttered I love you and left you alone with your guilt. A sigh shook your chest. 
You got dressed and went downstairs, leaving the stains on the linen as the only trace of your love. You absently nodded at Denyse, busy wiping the tables, and set off into the streets of Flea Bottom. 
It would take you a good hour to get to the forge. 
You already longed for your bed on the other side of the town. 
Flea Bottom, for all its faults, provided the discretion you needed to meet your prince every night. It was Aemond who had shown you this little inn after you refused to use the secret passages leading to the Red Keep⏤you would not throw yourself into the dragon's jaws.  
Your feet cursed you, but your heart thanked you for these precious moments⏤away from the reproaches and the forge, the vices of the court and the pressure of power. In this dingy room, the Prince softened and removed his iron mask to reveal the gentle soul hidden behind it, while you forgot the shrill cries that tormented your days. 
It took you longer than usual to reach the Street of Steel. As you passed through the wooden door, the hour of the Nightingale was casting its first rays of sunshine and waking up the workers. 
Your mother was waiting for you, arms crossed and a bucket of water at her feet. 
Without delay, she ripped the dress from your hands and replaced it with the bucket. A few drops splashed onto you, soaking the front of your sweaty tunic. 
“Where did you get that?” her sharp voice asked. “You stole it, didn’t you? How many times do I have to tell you–”
“I didn’t– It's not–”
She cut you off before you could come up with an excuse.
Her fingernails scraped at the embroidery, which held firm. 
“That’s some good work..." she mumbled. “We'll get a few silver stags out of it... Maybe enough to repair the oven. Meredyth? Meredyth! Come downstairs and take this to the weaver next door!”
You held out a shaking hand to try and retrieve the dress, but your mother glared at you. You lowered your head, your eyes wet. Aemond's face appeared in your thoughts and the guilt⏤always there⏤ignited. 
You no longer had the strength to fight the inevitable. Dawn, beautiful as it was, always had its share of disappointments in store for you. Every morning, your prince's gifts were snatched from you without remorse and sold to the nearest merchant. All that remained of your jewels and dresses was a thick leather purse hidden under the floor of your parents' bedroom⏤both took great pleasure in lecturing you about stealing and sinning. 
Your mother could pretend all she wanted to be pious and kind, a good believer with a guiltless conscience, but you knew the truth. She would never go through with her threats, far too happy with the gold dragons piling up under her pillow. 
Your sister ran down the stairs and grabbed the package before examining its contents. 
“Oh, Mum, it's so beautiful…” She took the dress out of its wrapping and pressed it to her chest before twirling around, not minding the dirt on the silk with her ashen fingers. “Can we keep it?”
Your mother scoffed. 
“To do what? You don't need an embroidered dress to forge swords and shoe horses. Why don't you go and see if Claere can take it? And you!" she turned back to you. “Clean the grindstone. You’ll sharpen the commissions next. Corwyn isn't here.”  
The knot tightened around your neck as you nodded and disappeared into the workshop. 
The hours passed. Sweat stuck to your forehead and the sparks from the grindstone bit your fingers. At last⏤to your delight⏤ nine o'clock struck the end of the day. You gave Duncan⏤a golden cloak⏤the dagger he had ordered, pocketed the fifty silver stags and wished him a good evening. 
When he closed the door, you hurried up to your room, washed yourself with the bucket of cold water, put on one of your best dresses and ran to Flea Bottom, ignoring your mother's cries, which faded under the beating of your soles. 
You arrived at the inn out of breath, but happy to be away from home. Denyse greeted you with a wink and watched you stride up the stairs. The steps creaked under your weight, but you did not care. Habit and euphoria carried you to an innocuous door. 
You opened it and a body flung itself against yours. A smile lit up your face. Aemond did not wait and pulled you to the bed. 
As his lips peppered your neck with kisses, his hands slipped under your body and roamed the length of your back. They clung to your dress and sought out the threads of your bodice, but suddenly stopped. You tensed. Gently, Aemond straightened up. He looked at you before his eye fell on your cotton dress.
“What is this?” 
“Aemond, I–” 
“Wasn't it to your liking? You should have told me. I would have asked the royal weaver to make the necessary alterations. We just received Essos fabrics. Perhaps it would have been wiser to talk to you about it before commissioning it,” he frowned. 
“It was perfect.”
“Was?”
You sighed and embraced him. Immediately, Aemond's hands searched for yours. Your fingers intertwined. He pulled you against him and tucked his chin into your neck. As he spoke, his breaths hit your skin and made you shiver. 
“What are you not telling me, my love?”
His closeness calmed you. With the tip of your pointer finger, you brushed his back and caressed the hollow of his spine. Your hand came to rest on the small of his back and traced invented letters that told of all the love you felt for him. He smiled against your neck and kissed it, understanding the gibberish you were writing with an ignorant hand. 
The language of love knew no illiteracy.
“Y/N?”
Your sigh struggled to come out, blocked by the muscular torso against your chest. It struggled to find its way to your lips and  when it did come out, it poured all its guilt into the air before suffocating you. 
“It's just that... I mean... Don't get angry, please, I couldn't bear it,” you begged.
“Never, my love. Now tell me.” 
“Your gifts… My parents… They sell them.” 
He straightened up and sought your gaze, but you turned your head away. Guilt lacerated your throat. You swallowed to get rid of the horrible feeling, but it remained. 
The Gods were punishing you. 
“They sell them and use the gold for the forge or when they feel like it.”  
He said nothing, which worried you. 
“Stop offering me more," you stammered. “I beg you, Aemond. I can't bear the guilt any longer. Please, Aemond. You must understand…”
He hushed you and gently caressed your cheek. You took refuge in the warmth of his palm and closed your eyes. His lips wiped away the few tears that rolled down your cheekbone. 
“It is all right.”
“Is it?”
“Yes, my sweet. Now please, do not cry. I cannot bear this sight.”
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After your conversation, Aemond stopped bringing you gifts. Your heart sank, but you told yourself that it was for the best⏤your parents would, at last, no longer monopolise his fortune. Now, all your prince had left to offer you were his caresses and words, but you felt richer than if he had given you a piece of jewellery. 
Your hammer struck the iron, sending sparks flying. They nicked at your cheeks but did not dim the smile on your face. Your thoughts drifted back to last night, Aemond's warm skin against yours, his hand between your thighs, his warmth and his thrusts… 
A metallic noise brought you back to reality. You raised your head and blinked, expecting to find Corwyn in the workshop, but there was only you. 
It comes from the shop, you realised. 
You frowned⏤thinking about the person behind the counter⏤and wiped your hands on an old towel before walking to the front. Worry settled in your chest as you quickened your pace. 
Your father never dropped his tools. Years of experience had turned his hammer into a part of his hand. He was no longer the young apprentice you or your siblings still were. 
You stumbled into the shop. 
“M’prince!" your father stammered. “To what do we owe this honour?”
Your wide eyes met Aemond's satisfied one. The towel fell to the floor. 
“Would you like a sword? I have several that might please you. No Valyrian steel around here unfortunately," he chuckled, "but they cut just as good.”
“I’ve come to discuss your daughter's affairs.” 
“Meredyth?” 
“Your youngest daughter," the Prince replied. 
Your father gave you an incredulous look when you reached him. His fist tightened around the hammer he had picked up. 
“I heard a rumour that rather annoys me, I must admit. A rumour about valuable objects that have an unfortunate tendency to disappear.”
Your father grabbed your upper arm to keep you in line⏤ unwilling to sully his image in front of the Prince Regent. 
“Her mother and I...! We've told her a hundred times not to steal! She's a good girl, m’prince. She's just a little... lost. Youth, you know," he smiled nervously. “No need to make a big deal of it. Don't you think?”
“Oh, your daughter is innocent. You are the problem, sir.” 
“M-me?”
“You see, those objects were gifts. From me, might I add. And I take great offence that you not only stole them but shamelessly sold them for your own gain, embezzling money from the crown. This is an act of treason, did you know that? I could have your head for this.”
You massaged the bridge of your nose between two fingers and sighed, cursing your lover's hot blood and praying to the Gods to give you the strength. Three eyes burned at your temple⏤two of embarrassment, one of pride. You met your father's gaze and shrugged. 
“I… I beg your pardon, m’prince. We didn't know.” 
Your father set down his hammer on the counter and curtsied. His callused fingers waved, unsure of what to do, before plunging into the centre pocket of his leather apron. 
The prince stared at your father for a few more seconds, gloating as he squirmed with embarrassment, and moved towards you. Gently, he took hold of your wrist. You gasped when a cold sensation touched your hand. You looked down and found a magnificent ring on your finger⏤a fine circle of twisted gold with several sparkling sapphires.
“And there it was. Something as precious as you," he smiled, stroking the jewel with his thumb. “A thousand stones could not compare with your eyes, but I must admit I cannot wait to see it on your finger tonight. It will be all the more beautiful under the moonlight.”
Aemond kissed your hand before straightening up to glare at your father. 
“If I hear this ring has been sold, you will suffer the consequences. Is that clear?”
“Yes, m’prince.”
“Hmm. Good.”
He left the forge with a confident step and slammed the door behind him. 
Silence stretched on. Your teary eyes remained riveted on the jewel. The imprint of his kiss still warmed the back of your hand and made your heart race. You shook your fingers, welcoming this new weight, and smiled brightly.  
After several minutes, your father, his mouth ajar, finally turned to you. 
“Now, what on earth did you do to seduce a prince, girl?
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crystalliumdaisy · 6 months
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redesigning star dresses part 1!
part 2 and part 3
notes and individual pieces below <3
keep this in mind i love the og stardresses! i just wanted to challenge myself and i’m an inspiring fashion designer!!! my goal was to create dresses that reflect the spirits and u could easily match them up.
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these were my initial sketches, i wanted every dress/outfit to have a different colour and silhouette to make them more recognisable.
aries ~
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- pink was the obvious choice for a colour. I didn’t want to use any major black like in the og design because aries design is so light and bright!
- i really think the og stardress hair is lacking. A fun fluffy 80s hair adds to the whole sheep aesthetic and creates a different silhouette to other designs.
- the 80s hair also inspired a more 80s look with fluffy legwarmers and big hoop earrings.
- i also wanted to bring in those pink pompoms on the side of aries dress so i made them star shaped and put them in lucy’s hair
taurus ~
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- why put her in a bikini if she’s a cowboy??? this haunts me everyday.
- I couldn’t put her in mainly black and white cos that’s virgo i comprised and landed on a brown.
- for inspiration it was pretty obvious to go with a cowboys and the wild west! i always disliked the one leg pants her og design has so i modified it to a cut out.
- her og design was a mix of the aquarius and scorpio one and it always didn’t stand out to me, so i think by exaggerating the cowboy aesthetic it stands out much more.
gemini ~
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- her og design is actually one my favs. so i really only made minor changes
- the colours stood out against other dresses and were easily identified as gemini. the dual colour symmetrical dress is a great way to reflect the double spirit.
- Gemini is a pretty symbol spirit so to reflect them i used circular shapes and organic lines. i changed the head piece mainly because i struggled drawing it but i realised it made the design too top heavy anyways.
- i extended the dress width and length mainly for silhouette reasons (she wears so many skin tight dresses) as well as to give a nod to the dresses the alternate geminis wear.
cancer ~
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- my issue with cancer star dress isn’t the dress itself. I actually love the dress in the manga. it’s the colour. WHY IS GREEN?!?
- if it weren’t for the symbol i wouldn’t be able to match this dress with cancers design, so it had to change.
- other than that there’s no major differences, the ribbon tie is meant to resemble scissors, i love the claw shape hair ties in the og design so i brought them back and i brought the stripes in cancers top to her bow.
leo ~
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- i was inspired by beauty and the beast, in the movie the beast kinda looks like lion.
- i swapped the yellow and black in the og design since it has a pretty similar colour story to virgos dress. The og kinda gets lost next to leo since the black doesn’t have variation and leo is in a deep black too.
- i wanted to make her hair bigger like a lions mane and curled around her face.
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kaciebello · 7 months
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Left on delivered
Slytherin boys x Hufflepuff! reader (use of she/her, no use of y/n) Masterlist Delivery Express ✿ Summary: The reader sees an opportunity to run an untapped market in Hogwarts. One delivery does not go as planned. Warnings: mention cigarettes, alcohol, jumping off of the astronomy tower.  Authors note: English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes beforehand. I want to spread this into a one-shot series. Proofread by me and me only :( • Previously: Delivery fees • Next part: Wrong address  Words: 1242 ish
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Notes to deliver: 137
Astronomy Tower was a popular place to meet up even after curfew. Many see it as a romantic spot and meet up there to stargaze with their partner on a Friday night. Tonight however the sky was covered in clouds and there were no stars in sight. That's why a group of familiar boys hung out there. With this weather, nobody is surprised to see them smoking there. Nobody would also question the bubbling cauldron in the corner. Well, nobody should.
Light steps could be heard on the metal staircase, only catching the attention of two boys of the group. From the stairs, a familiar girl appears not noticing the boys yet as she plays with the note in her hand. At this time of day, she no longer wore her school-issued uniform. Her all-black outfit is broken up by the yellow ribbon in her hair. A look of confusion appears on her face as she notices the boys hanging out.
“ Group date?” She teases and walks to them, her arms falling alongside her body. A mocking ‘ haha’ is heard from Mattheo from the other side. The girl cannot tell if it's the mist or just an excessive amount of cigarette smoke that makes the air so stuffy. She makes her way over to the railing and leans her back on it, facing the group.
“ As if, I would have taken myself on something way more romantic. Trying to make moonshine is not my idea of a date, sunshine.”  Announces Draco, who is in charge of stirring said moonshine at the moment. Chuckles from his friends can be heard.
“Please, all you could manage is a box of candy and half-dead flowers.” Argues Blaise not even looking up from the oranges he's been cutting and dropping them in the cauldron.
“ Excuse me?” Draco whips his head to him.
“You are excused.” Blaise simply says. A string of words leaves Draco's mouth about how his friend is in the wrong and he should see what amazing dates he can take him on. The girl decides to tune those two out as their conversation seems way too personal to listen in. Her attention turns to two smoking boys standing next to her. 
“ Why, wanna join us?” Asks her Matteo, cocking his eyebrow. Shaking her head in disagreement, deciding she’s very much against that idea.
“ Why not? Who can say they have 5  boyfriends.” Argues Theo, cigarette loosely hanging from the corner of his mouth. 
“I hardly want to date a single individual, let alone all of you. It might be better for me to date a dementor.” She says. A fake offended gasp can be heard from the two. At the same time, Lorenzo approaches the three. He stands next to his friend and crosses his arms.
“None of us, hmm?” He says in a teasing tone. the girl just rolls her eyes and pushes herself off the railing. Turning to face the outside part. A laugh can be heard from them before Lorenzo speaks up again.
“You want me so bad.”
“What makes you say that?”
“The voices in my head are telling me.” He just shrugs and moves on to check on the moonshine. ‘ Unbelibelve ‘ leaves the girl quietly. Interested in the moonshine she follows him and sits down next to Draco.
“ What are you even doing here?” he asks giving up on the stirring and just charming the spatula. She raises the note in her hand to view. Before gloomily setting it on her lap. A noise of understanding leaves him before turning to Lorenzo for a conversation. The two other boys join the group and also it down.
“Is that one for us?” Theodor points out the note. She just shook her head but went to check her watch. Seeing the time she frowns and turns her gaze to the stairs, as if waiting for something. Before turning back to the group with a sigh.
“Oh god, are you here waiting for someone??” A shocked tone leaves Lorenzo as a horrified expression forms on his face. His friends are quick to follow with the same. Lastly, the girl forms a shocked face as well.
“What?? NO!” She yelps in a hurry and waves her hands in front of her. “ Why would you think that???”
“You're all gloomy! and no one comes here other than to meet up with their date! OH MY GOD, YOU GOT STOOD UP!” His hands fly to cover his mouth. The girl sits there in disbelief, her chin almost on the floor from Lorenzo's ‘amazing’ detective skills. A hand gently closes her mouth. She watches them all panic, unaware of what to do in a situation like this. Few not-so-comforting words are thrown in her direction.
“I'm not the one who's getting stood up! Technically.” She says making all of them come to a stop.
“What?” She lifted the note that was sitting on her lap. All eyes are on it.
“ The person who gave me this note is getting stood up.” Was all it took for cheers and sighs of reveal to be heard among the group. The note is snitched from her hand by Blaise as he opens it to read it. She chases it but unsuccessfully. After a few moments a confused look forms on his face.
“ This is a breakup note.” He just says a passes the note to Lorenzo next to him. The girls just nod.
“I was supposed to give it to the person, but he never showed up.” She explains. “ So I guess the feelings are mutual.” Silence falls upon them as the note makes her way to the girl. She sets it down in one of the many nooks on the wall.
“This is why you're so gloomy? Because someone else broke up? Girl, you had me worried.” Says Lorenzo and crawls to the girl. Inevitably, traps her in a makeshift hug as he lays on top of her. ‘ Mate, you heavy.’ leaves her but is muffled. The group returns to their usual chatter and ignores the two. After some time the girl manages to push her friend off her and to the side, where he now fake sobbed from a broken heart. Sitting up, she gets passed a cup of presumably finished moonshine.
She gives that one to her friend and takes the next one, giving it a proper smell. The boys around her, seemingly not worried about the safety of the cauldron made moonshine all chug it down in one motion. She takes a sip and immediately retracts from the cup. Her face twists in disgust. Setting the cup down, determined to never touch it again, she watches as her friends celebrate the bach. Conjuring up some snacks and filling their cups with another round of the disgusting liquid. Making a mental note, not to ever deliver the Slytherin moonshine as it could be a safety hazard.
The night went on as no other student dared to show up at the astronomy tower after hearing the group from the bottom of the stairs. Any deliveries forgot in a second.  None of them seem to notice the wind picking up, the note breakup note now gone. Later that night, when everything calms down. A soft chatter of the group can be heard. The girl gets a tap on her shoulder. Turning to her friend who motions for her to lean in.
“Ya know,” whispers Lorenzo, “If you made that all up, I understand. And, I heard I can be a great rebound…” The girl gets up from her spot, makes her way to the railing, and starts climbing over it. The only thing that stops her from jumping is male hands that pull her back to the group and laughter from the other boys.
Notes to deliver: 136
Tag list: @daisiesformylove, @klimovatereza-blog
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mxstellatayte · 19 days
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okay this is so vague but a something for lewis based off the song pretty please by dutch melrose ?
I LOVE DUTCH MELROSE OMG I ABSOLUTELY CAN. also this one is dedicated my simply simply lovely bestie and horny ride-or-die (not like that) pookie @vivi-81 who has recently converted to being a lewis hoe <3 love you bestie
this fic is multiple chapters because i couldn't help myself! writing this dynamic is really really fun and i'm going to do my best to finish the fic by 15 september, but here is a teaser of the first chapter and the release schedule/masterlist!
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this fic spans literal years. prepare yourselves yall because you're in for a WILD ride lol
teaser (this post): 4 september chapter 1: 8 september (🌻/🥀) chapter 2: 22 september (🌻/🪷) chapter 3: 6 october
teaser below the cut!
the conversation continues easily as the two of you finish your breakfast, then, as you begin to prepare yourself to stand and leave, he stops you. "actually, there's one last thing i wanted to do before we went on camera."
your head tilts in confusion as you set your signature lipstick back in your bag, a deep red balm that you've used since you started working at vogue. it's become your trademark product, and almost everyone in the office knows exactly which one you use. "do i need to be worried, lewis?"
"no, not at all! it's this," he says, and your eyebrows rise in complete and utter shock when he pulls out a small box wrapped in white paper and a crimson bow wrapped around it all. "i wanted to get you a gift as a way of saying thank you for all the curveball questions you've thrown at me this year." your hands shake as you take the box from him, and you already know exactly which brand it is. cartier. sure, you've written pieces about their timeless looks and elegant aesthetics, and owning a piece of their jewelry has always been a dream of yours, but it's always been just that: a dream.
"lewis, i can't accept this. i- i'm honestly at a loss for words. seriously, no." you can't help but flush at how he's looking at you, those annoyingly beautiful eyes of his and the stupidly perfect crow's feet that only show up when he really smiles- when he smiles the way he is now. gods, amelia was right. you really are down bad for the driver.
"please, just open it up. if you don't like it, i'll take it back and you can choose something you prefer." he nudges the box towards you once more, and the crisp wax seal that sits on top of the paper is incredibly enticing.
"are you serious?" a part of you wants to think that this is some sick joke, that there's cameras on you and it's all going up on one of those prank channels on youtube. a much, much bigger part of you believes lewis, though. that is the part of you that takes the box between your shaking hands, carefully pops open the wax seal, nimbly unties the beautiful ribbon, and gently unfolds the pure white paper. when you finally open the box, you gasp, tears threatening to well in your eyes. "lewis..."
"do you like it?" his voice sounds anxious and hopeful, and you can't help but realize how much thought he'd put into this gift. when you'd invited him into your office to review some photos that were to go into an article in the next vogue issue a few months prior, he'd seen the vision board on your wall and asked about it. bashfully, you had explained to him that it was a silly idea you had when you graduated from uni with your friends- each of you made one, cutting and pasting photos from pinterest, magazines, newspapers, and anything you could find, assembling your dreams in a mishmash of colors and ideas. one of your dreams on the board had been to own this exact necklace- the cartier juste un clou necklace in white gold. the fourteen diamonds set in the precious metal glitter back at you, and you can't help but smile.
"i love it, lewis. thank you so much." he visibly relaxes, his shoulders loosening and the crease between his eyebrows disappearing.
"i'm glad. here, turn around. let me put it on you?" you happily oblige, lifting your hair out of the way after you stand so that he can fasten the delicate clasp over your spine.
it's safe to say that both his and your fans noticed the necklace hanging between your collarbones, sitting just below the star necklace you wear daily on top of your dark grey high-collared shirt. you try your best not to look at the comments on the videos of your interviews, but amelia had shown you one that day after the unedited interview went up online.
"are they dating or something? i can't get over how lewis looks at her."
taglist: @pear-1206 @vivi-81
join my taglist here!
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girlfriendstan · 2 months
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after this live, i can’t stop thinking about how much of a tease camboy!gyuvin would be. he’d go on stream wearing nothing but a white bathrobe and lean forward to talk to his viewers, making his robe’s neckline plunge down to show peeks of his bare chest.
“take it off,” camboy!gyuvin would read from the comments with a smirk, but he’d tighten the ribbon on his robe in response. not long after, he’d hear his favorite cha-ching sounds from the livestream platform, signaling a paid request from him to strip.
giving in, gyuvin would slip out of his robe teasingly slow, but he’d show the stream a good view of him shirtless eventually, with his nipples perking up and his slender but toned torso in full display. that doesn’t seem to be enough for his viewers since he’s still covering his crotch with his discarded robe.
another clinking sound would fill his ears while he coyly plays with his nipples for the stream. this time, the requests are getting lewder, all of them sending the same message. “show us your cock,” he peers closer to the screen before granting their wish.
as expected, camboy!gyuvin’s been packing, with his huge and girthy member filling up nearly a third of the screen. gyuvin would stroke experimentally, letting soft moans leave his lips while he pleasures himself. he cuts his actions short to stand up from his seat to supposedly adjust the camera, but really, he’s just giving his audience a better view of his fully nude body like the good whore he is.
camboy!gyuvin crouches down by the camera just enough to show off his nipples then slowly gets up, allowing everyone to get a closeup shot of his cock “accidentally.” he returns to his seat to stroke himself again, exhaling sharp breaths as he goes harder.
“want me to play with any toys?” he’d ask his viewers, who’ve seemed to triple since he got fully undressed. the comment section quickly gets filled with people asking camboy!gyuvin to fuck into a fleshlight, cash donations included. naturally, he obliges and takes out his fleshlight hidden in his seat, fitting his cock into the artificial tightness slowly but surely.
a loud groan leaves his mouth as gyuvin finally bottoms out, dragging the fleshlight up and down his impressive length. the sounds of his cock going in and out of the sex toy are obscene, which only serve to turn him on even more.
“need to be deep in real pussy right now,” camboy!gyuvin would tell his viewers, showing how horny and needy he’s gotten from a quick stroking session. “don’t you wish this was you,” he teases as he fucks into the fleshlight harder.
after a few more strokes, gyuvin would spill his release into the fleshlight, letting everyone know he reached his orgasm through a loud round of moaning. he strokes his softening member a couple of times to satisfy his commenters’ desires of seeing his cock a little more.
camboy!gyuvin would show off his tainted fleshlight for his viewers, letting some of his cum drip out of the fucked-out toy to show how proud he was of the mess he made.
waiting for the next stream of requests, camboy!gyuvin would spread his legs wide and expose his puckered asshole. surprisingly, his viewers can’t get enough of this new sight, so they flood his comments with “bend over”s and “finger yourself”s, among other requests begging him to make good use of his tight hole.
“fuck myself with a dildo?” camboy!gyuvin would giggle upon reading the unfiltered demand. “you’d have to pay a lot more for that one,” he’d quip teasingly, but his smug grin quickly gets replaced with shock when he hears a symphony of clinks.
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orderforbrian · 2 years
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asked for jmart valentines day prompts and decided to combine them into one little comic! <3 little late but better than never
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poor jon 🤭when he said intimate he meant more dear to martin's heart <3
[Start ID: Multipanel comic of Jon and Martin from the Magnus Archives for Valentine's day. Comic is in greyscale except for orange/pink of blushes and flowers. Jon is a thin Persian man with dark eyes and dark, curly hair tied back in a bun, there is a grey streak in his bangs. He has a beard and is wearing a blazer with a business shirt and tie. Martin is a fat mixed Polish/Korean man with dark eyes and short dark wavy hair. He has a beauty mark next to his lip and is wearing a striped, knitted cardigan with a business shirt, as well as browline glasses.
Panel 1+2+3: Martin smiles widely with a small tear in one eye, holding a bouquet of pink and purple flowers with a pink ribbon. He says, "Jon...thank you!! I don't know what to say!". Jon averts his eyes with a small blush and responds, "While flowers and chocolates are nice, I also wanted to get you something more...". It zooms in to one of Jon's eyes, dark and captivating. He finishes the sentence, "Intimate."
Panel 4: Martin blushes with a small frown, a couple sweat marks on his face. "O-oh?" he says, wary (but a little excited?) as to what Jon means by intimate.
Panel 5+6+7+8: Jon chastely holds out a gift box to Martin, turning his head away and closing his eyes. Martin nervously reaches for the box, tucking the bouquet in one arm. He thinks, "oh GOD why is he looking away". Martin opens the gift box, his face and hand silhouetted, and finds a pink polka dot tea cozy inside - over it says ta-da with sparkles. Next panel has Jon and Martin as floating heads. Martin asks with a shock, "Is - is this a tea cozy?". Jon's eyes are half-lidded, a bit embarrassed. "Yes, I knitted it myself." He quietly adds on. Martin bursts out into laughter, holding a hand in front of his wide smile. "Snrk-heh heh heh heh!" Jon is just buggy eyes and a wiggly mouth, asking "What? What? What?".
Panel 9+10: Jon raises a hand towards Martin, looking flustered, a couple sweat marks come off him. "Wh-why are you laughing? Do you not like it? I can get you something-". Martin cuts him off by kissing his forehead, lightly pulling at his neck to bring him closer. He nuzzles into his hair with a smitten smile. "No, I love it." His sentence and the kiss are punctuated by a heart. Jon, under the effects of being kissed, promptly shuts up, blushing and looking starry eyed. His one eye is closed where Martin is kissing his forehead.
Panel 11+12: Martin pulls back, blushing madly. Jon stares ahead with large sparkling eyes, blushing greatly as well with a tiny frown. Mistaking it as discomfort, Martin begins to apologize. "Oh! Oh, I'm sorry! I totally kissed you without--mmf!" He is cut short when Jon turns to him, grabs his cheek and pulls him in to a hurried (and quite fish lipped) kiss. Martin's eye is cartoonishly wide and he is somehow blushing even more than he was before. Lots of hearts surround the two. End ID.]
aaaand bonus little doodle for reading the ID :3
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[Start ID: Floating Martin head, he sighs with closed eyes and a tiny smile. He says "When you said intimate, I thought you meant like lingerie LOL". A tiny Jon in the corner screams in horror, "NOO!!" End ID.]
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mggsv · 5 months
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WIFE !
Min Yoongi x black!f reader || (18+) || reblogs would be appreciated! <3
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warnings: role play, Yoongi is called “Suga” or “Agust” throughout the story, mascara, crying, hair pulling, dom!yoongi, reader has locs, edging, degrading, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), using a safe word!, praise, soft ending.
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“Tell me something,” he murmurs, “the fuck are you good for hm?” He takes a deep breath, eyes shutting briefly before staring into your almond shaped brown ones.
“You can’t cook, cleanings fine- but you suck with kids.” Your eyes water, gasping slightly. “You can’t be a good mafia wife if you can’t understand half the shit that goes on.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Seems like the only thing you’re good at is taking dick, am I right?”
The pink head of his cock pop’s out of your mouth, spit alongside your mouth as you panted. Fat, black tears seeped from the side of your eyes. Suga sighed once more, cock twitching at the sight. A fucking mess you were. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”
His leaking tip rubbed against your plump lips, your lip gloss mixing with the cum. All Suga could do was smirk. He enjoyed it. “Yes..yes sir.” You whimpered. Your cunt throbbed around the toy he had inside of you and you hated it. He knew just how needy you were after all.
“If that were the case..should I have married you?” His ring covered fingers reached down to stroke your cheek, wiping the tears from your face, mascara ruined. “A whore could do the same.” His hand found your locs, put up in a cute ponytail with a pink ribbon, and pulled your head back. “Y- Suga.. please..” You trembled, eyes shutting at his grip tightening. Felt so fucking good. Your pussy ached for his attention- anything from the man who wrecked you with just a few words. You whined loudly, his other hand going around your neck. The toy inside of you buzzing even more. It had your legs straining against the floor. “You’re a good wife aren’t you?” He smirked, cooing softly at his doll. You gasp, hips rocking forward. Between the toy and his hands you were on fire.
“Mmmhm..m’a good wife m’promise..”
“And If I fill this hole up you’ll be a good mother, too, won’t you?”
“Mhm!” Your eyes open, hips jerking. Your stomach had a pooling feeling. “Cum-“
“Now you know it’s not that easy.”
Muttering softly, Suga motioned for you to stand. He hummed at your body, taking in how breathtakingly beautiful you looked. Cunt wet with slick spread on your inner thighs, nipples hard and wet with his spit, bite marks all on your shoulders. A mess. His touch lost, the toy cutting off abruptly. “Please..” you sniffled. Cute. He found you absolutely adorable.
“Spread your legs for me.” He leans forward, tongue licking along your v line. Getting closer..so close. The flick of his tongue to your clit sent you over. “Fuck!” You reach out for his hair, Suga lapping at your clit, sucking as you came. Your cunt squeezed around the toy until it fell on the soft rug beneath you. Suga’s hand landing a smack to your ass. Shaking, he kept his mouth on your sensitive cunt.
His thumb dragged your slick, playing with how wet you were while he made it worse.
“Have a seat.” Leaning back, Suga starts stroking his cock. Flushed and red, he adjusts for you, your body fitting perfectly over him. His cock teased your hole, groaning at how wet you sounded with just the tip slipping inside of you. “Oh fuck..oh fuck-“ You throw your head back, finally getting what you wanted. His cock buried deep inside of you, taking it to the hilt. He shudders against your chest, your nails digging into Suga’s arms while you leaned against him.
“Look at that..taking it in all at once.” His tongue darted out to lick small stripes upon your chest. You started to move slowly, gasping at the noise. His size was..insane, but enough for you. Suga grips your hips, another groan ripping from his throat while you squeezed around him. So sensitive you were, after just cumming. At some point you didn’t have the strength anymore to lift yourself. He held you at an angle, hips lifting while he fucked into you hard and slow. “Knew you could take it like a good girl.”
A small whine leaving you breathless, sounds growing louder by the second. And god it hurt so good, you didn’t know what to do but enjoy the ride. Suga talked to you but you couldn’t hear a thing, too lost into everything. Lost..you knew where you lied with him. No matter what.
“..at me.” It was all a blur. “Look-“ You gasped, his cock hitting a certain spot inside of you. So deep, you squeezed onto him. Eyes watering once more. “Suga-“ You felt your head being lifted back, you saw the ceiling, illuminated by the candles lit around the room.
“Angel.” It was like everything stopped. You hiccuped, legs shaking as you blinked the tears away. Yoongi looks at you, frowning softly. He was quick to stop, but..
“You- safe word. Yoon-“
“Shh..” He knew you inside and out. That small motion of quietness was enough. He knew you were tired, fucked out. He had came inside of you minutes ago.
Kissing your delicate shoulders softly, Yoongi stood carefully, slipping out of you with a loud hiss. The night ending with you in his arms, hand rubbing all over your body as he took care of you. Delicate kisses lingering all over your body, a warm bath, and Yoongi’s voice putting you to sleep.
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discotitsposts · 4 months
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strawberry lipgloss part two- the date 🍓
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sorry this took so long! since my birthday is soon, i’ll prob post this on my birthday, this is reader going on a date with spencer but he doesn’t know it’s her birthday because she didn’t tell him.
read part one here!
update posting this on my birthday whoo!!!
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Spencer waits nervously at the restaurant for you, he’d chosen your favorite Italian place, it was close to your apartment and was familiar to you.
He didn’t want to overwhelm you with a restaurant you’d never been to and where you wouldn’t know the menu.
He checks his watch again, you’re not late yet, but time was cutting close and he’s starting to get worried.
Spencer’s mind races with maybes.
Maybe she didn’t actually want to and is going to cancel last minute. Maybe she changed her mind. Maybe she-
He looks up and sees you speaking with the hostess, she leads you to the table and Spencer stands up in awe of the way you’ve dressed.
A beautiful purple dress with strawberries on it, the strawberry scent just as strong, your hair done beautifully and you’re even wearing a small tiara in your hair.
Your lips, Spencer notices, are slick with lipgloss, strawberry lipgloss.
“You look absolutely radiant.” Spencer manages to say finally after staring for a while. You lean in and hug him tight.
“I’m so glad to be here with you Spencer.” You say sweetly, and smile. Your smile. You smiled at him like no one else mattered in the world except you and him.
“I’m glad too.” He says without really thinking. You had that effect on him.
“I love the tiara.” He smiles at the sparkly object in your beautiful hair.
“Thank you, it was a birthday gift for myself.”
Spencer freezes. Birthday? How could he have forgotten? Spencer never forgot anything. Then he realized. You’d never told anyone on the team your birthday.
“I..uh I didn’t know you had a birthday coming up.” He says nervously.
“Oh yeah, I didn’t really tell anyone because I didn’t feel like doing much. It’s actually today.”
Spencer’s eyes widen. Today? Your birthday is today?!
“Oh I’m so sorry I..Happy Birthday! I just so happened to get you a present without knowing.” He smiles and reaches for the gift he’d gotten you.
“Oh Spencer that’s so sweet you didn’t have to get me anything, except, I kind of got you something too.” You laugh and reach for a box too.
“You got me something?” Spencer laughs in disbelief.
You exchange the gifts and you open yours. Spencer had gotten you a perfume. Not just any perfume, a perfume in a strawberry shaped bottle. You gasp at how adorable it is.
“It’s strawberry scented too.” Spencer adds blushing as red as the strawberry shaped bottle.
You sniff the perfume sample included with the box.
“Oh Spencer I love it. It’s perfect. Thank you!” You beam at him and gesture him to open his gift.
He carefully unravels the ribbon, in the small box is a bookmark, with a quote by Nikola Tesla.
It reads: ‘The scientists of today think deeply instead of clearly. One must be sane to think clearly, but one can think deeply and be quite insane.’
Spencer laughs heartily. The quote was deeply relatable and one of his favorites. Then he notices, there is a strawberry charm, an amethyst crystal charm, a book charm, and a microscope charm on the tassel of the bookmark.
“This is amazing. I love it. Where did you get such a gem?” Spencer smiles.
“I know you probably don’t need bookmarks because you probably just remember the page number but bookmarks are so cute and fun I had to. Also I didn’t buy it, I made it.” You blush a little. Proud he’d liked the gift you’d spent so much time on.
You both set your gifts down and stare at each other.
“You made this?” Spencer asks, clearly impressed. You nod and he stands up and hugs you tightly.
“Thank you.” He whispers in your ear.
“Thank you.” You whisper back. “I really love it, i’ve never owned strawberry perfume before.”
“Happy Birthday.” He says softly and then kisses the top of your head.
“Thank you!”
A waiter comes over and takes your orders. You order a big plate of spaghetti and meatballs to share.
“The portions are huge! It’s a big plate of spaghetti and they add this sauce that is absolutely divine and the meatballs are perfect.” You gush over the spaghetti this restaurant serves while Spencer smiles in adoration.
He decides to be bold and reaches across the table nervously and takes your hand in his. You smile at the gesture and your plate comes out.
Spencer’s eyes go wide at the amount of spaghetti. You give him a look that says ‘I told you so’ and a smirk.
You guys eat and talk and laugh for the longest time. Spencer found you so easy to talk to and didn’t feel annoying for rambling in the slightest. When he rambled, you sat there and listened intently.
When you get to the end of the spaghetti you realize this is just like ‘Lady and the Tramp’ because Spencer rolls the last meatball onto your side of the plate for you to have.
You eat it and move to some of the last of the spaghetti and then you both realize the last of the spaghetti is just one long strand and your lips move closer and closer.
Both your lips meet in the middle of the noodle and you kiss. Spencer’s eyes widen and he bites the noodle so you can eat the last of it.
You laugh at the silly moment and Spencer chuckles.
“Tastes like strawberries.” Spencer comments making you laugh again. He loves making you laugh.
You hold up the strawberry lipgloss from before and are about to reapply when Spencer clears his throat.
“Let me, please?” He asks and you smile and nod to give the okay.
Spencer squeezes the tube until enough product comes up and yet again rubs it on your lips until they’re shiny and covered in the sweet scent. He twists the cap back on and hands it back to you.
“Luscious, aren’t they?” You ask pouting your lips and posing. Spencer nods in awe of the beauty glowing from within you.
“This is the best date I’ve ever been on.” You tell him.
“Me too. Usually they’ve ran out the door by now.” Spencer jokes, something he found easy with you.
You laugh, “Who would ever run from you Spencer? You’re amazing.”
Spencer blushes and holds your hand and you leave the restaurant together and you squeeze his hand lovingly.
When he walks you to your apartment and reaches the door he waits for you to unlock it.
You two stand in the doorway and Spencer gets close to you and whispers, “I had a wonderful time tonight.”
You nod in agreeance and lean in closer until your lips meet again. When you finally pull away you decide to make a joke.
“That was better without a spaghetti noodle in between us.”
Spencer cracks up, “Hey don’t knock the spaghetti kiss, it was romantic, and at least we got to eat it. Hey,” He stares at your lips. “I think you need more lipgloss now.”
“What’s the point? It’s gonna get messed up again anyway.” You smirk and lead him to the couch. Spencer smiles.
Nothing could ever top the way you make him feel. Loved.
the end 💘
tags- 🍓
if you’d like to be tagged in all future works you can comment a 🍓
@whoisspence @starshinegarcia @fictionalobssed @exoticisles @in-another-april @gallifreyan-idiocracy
people who wanted to be tagged in part two 🍓
@exhaleli @moonysreid @reidsatellite @fandoms-allovertheplace @kissesforspence @shibugs @khxna
idk why it wouldn’t tag some people. but thank you to anyone who liked part one enough to ask for part two i appreciate it sm😭💘
we are all strawberries.
watching ldsk in season one right now lmao
also face reveal this is me:
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165 notes · View notes
smoooothoperator · 3 months
Text
What Was I Made For?
04: Reputation
Charles Leclerc x driver!OC (Dafne Morelli)
childhood enemies, forced proximity, accidental pregnancy, enemies to lovers
Warnings: anxiety, social anxiety, hate, Sebastian Stan (yes, he's a warning🫣🫠)
a/n: Hiiii!!! How are you doing? Here you have a new chapter! What do you guys think that will happen next? I'll read you! Oh! And at the end of the chapter you have some surprises!!
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If you want to be tagged don't forget to message me!
Every way of feedback is very welcomed
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They always said that hair holds memories.
When I was little, I always liked to have long hair because I loved standing in front of the bathroom mirror and watching how my mom tied it up in a ponytail, pigtails, or braids. It was a moment for the two of us, watching each other through the reflection of the mirror, my eyes following the gentle movement of her hands and fingers through my hair, and seeing how she wrapped a colorful tie around it. Sometimes she even wrapped a ribbon and made a little bow.
When I started karting, I always tied my hair in two braids and wrapped them around my head, making me look like I was wearing a crown made of my own hair. It was useful, letting me be comfortable with the helmet and not worrying about tucking my hair inside the suit to keep it from going wild while I drove.
Growing up, I always took care of it, sometimes getting attention from my girl classmates who asked me for tips on how to take care of their hair, wanting to know what products I used to make my soft curls look perfect.
When I started to get a little famous, brands like Kérastase and Garnier wanted me to be their face and sponsor me.
My hair holds so many memories. It was part of my identity.
But it holds bad memories too.
Charles pulling my pigtails. Nearly ruining my hair after dyeing it during a breakdown. Charles putting gum in it. Having nightmares after watching “V for Vendetta,” thinking that someone shaved my head.
If I want to be a new version of myself, I have to cut things from the root.
New hair. New me.
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“Dafne, why are people saying that you hired a lawyer and you'll file a lawsuit against Charles?”
A few days later, after the unfortunate meeting and call with Fred, my sister Erica came to help me get ready for an event in Tuscany. Something about a high society charity event.
“You are taking it too—” she stopped, turning around and looking at me as I walked out of the bathroom. “Did you cut and dye your hair?”
“Yeah,” I shrugged, grabbing my makeup bag and putting it in the suitcase.
“What? Why?” she frowned.
“Because I wanted to,” I said. “It's easier to style, easier to wash.”
“You never complained about your long hair!” she exclaimed, making me roll my eyes. “And why is it blonde?”
“Because I wanted to, Erica!” I sighed. “I wanted to try something different! Jeez!”
She frowned slightly, scanning me with her eyes. And somehow I felt so small, judged by her.
“Blonde doesn't look bad on you,” she smiled, finally. “But it will be weird, you always had long hair.”
“I know,” I sighed, touching my hair and biting my lip when I felt it barely touched my shoulders.
She looked at me, following my movements with her eyes. It’s like she was waiting for me to talk more, to explain, to break down. She waited for me to say something, to answer that first question she asked, wanting me to tell her what I had been doing the last two days.
“Well?” she frowned. “Why did you hire a lawyer?”
“Take a guess,” I said, shrugging my shoulders. “A certain someone just talked shit about me some days ago, and let’s not talk about the so-called punishment he will receive.”
“Look, what he did wasn’t nice. But he was drunk,” Erica sighed, making me feel betrayed.
“So? Does that give him the right to talk shit?” I frowned. “You are my sister, and you are defending him? He won’t apologize for that, Erica!”
She took a deep breath looking at me and I looked away, clenching my jaw. I know she gets along with him, that Jules connects them and somehow they share the pain of losing him. But why is she defending him?
“I’m not defending him,” she said, her voice sounding more serious. “But this is getting out of control, Dafne. You two have to stop now before the whole team and our families get more involved.”
“Sure,” I scoffed. “I’ll make sure to stop this.”
She rolled her eyes and sighed, getting up from my bed and grabbing everything so we could leave for the event. I made sure to leave enough food for my cat and then I grabbed the keys and my bag.
The event was not far from where I live, making it easier and faster to go, just using Erica's car and then reserving a hotel room so I could get changed and ready for the event. My sister Erica always made sure to have everything ready, the makeup and hair artists would be there shortly after we arrived at the room.
“I don’t think the hair team would be necessary,” I sighed, looking out of the window, watching the landscape pass by.
“They’ll find something to do,” she sighed. “I hired them, and if it sounds bad, I won't pay them to do nothing. At least let them… I don't know, do a hairstyle or something.”
“Yeah, sure,” I sighed.
When we arrived at the hotel near the event place, I opened the door and immediately heard people calling my name.
My name and some other nasty names.
“Whore! Slut!”
I clenched my jaw, trying to focus on the people that came to me with a smile, holding notebooks and pens, signing the papers, and taking pictures with those who showed me their phones.
But at some point, the insults grew louder, making my sister walk towards me and hold my arm, pushing me inside the hotel.
“Now do you understand why I'll sue him?” I mumbled, clenching my jaw and pulling my arm away from her hold, walking towards the elevator and waiting for her to grab the room key card.
I looked down at my phone, trying my hardest not to open my social media. If they dare to call me those names in person, I don't want to know what they call me on Twitter or Instagram.
“Erase the media apps,” Erica said, getting in the elevator with me.
“I barely open them,” I lied.
“I don't care. Erase them from your phone.”
I sighed and nodded, grabbing my phone and doing what she said. I should let my manager take care of this if there was something to worry about.
“And that lawsuit…” she sighed.
“I won't give up on that,” I whispered. “He took things too far this time. I won't let him act however he wants and think he can stay innocent all the time.”
“God, if only you two acted like adults and talked things out…” she sighed, rolling her eyes.
If only she knew… All the times I tried to talk to him, he came up with another reason for me to hate him. In the end, it was easier hating him than trying to befriend him.
“I think I reached out too many times, Erica,” I sighed. “And it's time for him to see that I'm not a doll he can play with.”
“But still…”
I shook my head and sighed, walking out of the elevator and going to the room. I opened the door with the card and got inside, sitting on the bed. The stylist team will come soon, so I have to get dressed quickly.
“This time it's his turn to fix things,” I said when I saw Erica walking in. “If he wants to, of course. But I highly doubt it.”
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The dress is too tight. I can barely breathe with it.
Or maybe it is because of the anxiety making my chest and stomach feel tense.
The moment I got out of the car and my feet touched the ground, hearing the clicks of the cameras and the calls of the photographers, I felt my breath hitching in my throat. My palms started to sweat, making me rub them on the material of the dress to dry them, but they started shaking the moment I walked deeper into the crowd.
“Deep breaths,” Erica whispered, placing a hand on my back.
I nodded nervously and walked towards the photoshoot zone, watching the photographers take pictures of people in front of me: actors, models, singers, other athletes.
I took a deep breath and looked at the first cross on the floor that was closer to me. I have to wait for them to call my name and place me there.
“Dafne Morelli. Formula 1 driver,” someone said, the man in charge of the photoshoot.
I took a deep breath, two, three. Chin up. Shoulders back. Straight back. Fake smile.
I stood on the cross, looking around at the cameras when the photographers called my name. I tried to focus on the people who called me, ignoring the heartbeat pounding in my ears. Someone led me to the next cross and then to the next one. And when the photoshoot ended, I looked at the people with microphones and cameras.
“It's not obligatory to do interviews,” Erica said, holding my hand. “It's just for the people who were requested for it. And you are not on the list.”
“Oh… Sure,” I nodded. “That's better, honestly.”
She smiled weakly and nodded, walking with me to the main room where everyone would be sitting at tables for the gala.
“Who are we sitting with?” I asked her, leaning closer to her.
“Other athletes,” she said. “And the table closer to us is the one with actors.”
“And they are…?” I sighed, closing my eyes and fixing my hair a little.
“Believe me, you won't believe it,” she said.
“What? Why? Who is there, Meryl Streep?” I laughed softly. “Anne Hathaway? If she's there, please remind me to take a picture with her and invite her to a race.”
“Oh, Anne is, and of course, I'll remind you to invite her,” she smirked. “But someone else.”
“Who? Emma D’Arcy?” I gasped. “I haven't watched the new season of House of the Dragon yet!”
“She won't,” Erica laughed. “It's actually someone you have a crush on…”
“Wh—” I gasped. “No way.”
“Oh yes.”
“Oh God, Erica! If I was anxious now, I'd feel even more anxious!” I groaned. “Sebastian Stan is here?”
“Yep,” she smiled. “And he'll make a speech.”
“Oh fuck,” I sighed. “I can die in peace.”
“Drama queen,” she laughed softly, rolling her eyes.
When we finally walked inside the room, I somehow felt self-conscious. People looked at me the moment I walked in, talking in low voices, hiding their mouths with their hands.
Are they talking about me? Did they hear those false accusations? Do they believe what Charles said?
I sat at our table in silence, looking at the plate and not daring to look up. They are looking at me, right? They are talking about me.
I sat at the table, grabbing the napkin and placing it in my lap. I heard a waiter on my right, asking something, probably about a drink, since he was holding a bottle that looked like white wine. Not finding my own voice, I shook my head, avoiding eye contact with the waiter and grabbing the water bottle that was in front of me, filling the glass with cold water.
Somehow, the food right in front of me doesn't look good. I'm not hungry anymore. I looked around, smiling fakely while I grabbed the glass with cold water, drinking it all and serving myself another glass. I played with the food, tried to eat something, but the knot in my stomach was so tight that I could barely eat more than two bites. The water looks fresh and makes my throat less dry. The next dish looks delicious and smells amazing, but it's too much pasta, too much, and I can't eat it. I played again with it, moving the spaghetti around the plate to make it look like I ate something. The waiter took the plate away, barely touched. My glass of water was empty, I needed more water. More water. More water. The dessert, a tiramisu. My favorite. I wanted to eat it, but…
“I need to get some fresh air,” I mumbled to my sister, grabbing the napkin from my lap and getting up, not being aware that my favorite actor was talking through the speakers.
I walked out of the room, feeling everyone's eyes on me. My chest was burning, my heart was beating too fast.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I mumbled, pacing back and forth, with my hand on my chest and trying to breathe.
I don't know what I was doing. My phone was in my hand, reinstalling Twitter and logging in.
Why am I doing this?
Hundreds. Thousands of notifications. Mentions, retweets, DMs.
I installed Instagram and logged in.
Mentions, tags, DMs.
Videos of Charles at that party. Of me screaming at him. My sister Soleil and Arthur holding me by my arms and pulling me away from him.
And then flashbacks came to my mind.
Charles in my room. Charles' lips on mine. Charles kissing my neck. Charles mumbling a name that's not mine. Me trying to fight but giving up. Me taking off his shirt. Him taking off my sleeping shirt. Us in bed. Charles kissing me. Charles moaning—
“Hey, are you okay?”
I gasped, flinching and dropping my phone to the floor when I turned around surprised, being taken out of a spiral of thoughts and flashbacks.
He was standing there. Sebastian Stan was standing there.
“Yeah, yeah, I…” I swallowed thickly, gasping softly when I felt small tears blurring my vision. “I'm okay.”
“You didn't look okay some minutes ago,” he smiled weakly. “I'm…”
“Sebastian Stan, I know,” I laughed nervously. “Big fan.”
“O-oh! Well, I'm a fan of yours too,” he smiled, taking a few steps closer to me.
“Y-you are?” I whispered softly, surprised.
“Of course! The first woman to win a Formula 1 race,” he nodded. “It's impressive.”
I looked at him, surprised. Is he really talking to me? Does he know who I am? Am I dreaming?
“You… you were having an anxiety attack, right?” he smiled weakly.
“I guess so,” I sighed. “Just… Many things happened lately.”
“Oh, I understand,” he nodded. “Let me guess. Something controversial that has everyone against you on social media so you read everything and let it get into your mind?”
“How…” I frowned. How does he know?
“Believe me, I went through the same some years ago,” he sighed. “The best decision is to delete those things from your phone and ignore them.”
“Yeah, well… I did some hours ago,” I mumbled, blushing. “But I installed them again. I don't know why.”
“You were spiraling,” he nodded. “I noticed it. I was giving the speech when you walked out. As soon as I finished, I talked to who I guess is your sister.”
“Erica,” I nodded.
He smiled and nodded, walking closer to me. He knelt in front of me and grabbed my phone from the floor, smiling weakly when he looked at the broken screen.
“I'm sorry, I surprised you,” he sighed.
“No… I think it's better that way,” I smiled, looking at him.
Am I in heaven after dying? Why is he talking to me? Is this some type of game? A dream? A nightmare? Now he will just say that he thinks I'm a fraud and that I don't deserve the seat.
Just what Charles said.
“Don’t believe what they say about you,” he said suddenly. “You know your version. It's their choice to believe you or not. You don't owe them anything. Don't let those words ruin a reputation you fought to build.”
I looked at him, surprised. He knows about the rumors?
“And by the way,” he smiled. “You look amazing with blonde hair. Everyone was talking about it, you are more famous than you think, Dafne.”
I took a deep breath and looked at him, somehow feeling the air getting into my lungs and making the anxiety go away.
There are people who don’t hate me. I’m more famous, he’s right.
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This is how I picture the girls
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thepixelelf · 9 months
Text
Oh Baby, You Part 43 - Your Everything
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I'm Orion's father.
The words don't just shake you. It's like a cold, stone-cut fist digs its way into your chest and pries away each rib just so it can wrap its icy fingers around your heart.
Cruel, cruel Wonwoo. Could he even know how hearing those words on his lips makes you feel? That was your short-lived dream, three years ago. That was the small sliver of hope in the hours after you decided to keep Orion as your own. The thought that maybe, just maybe, Wonwoo and you could’ve started a family, even if it wasn’t in the most conventional way. 
If things were different, he could say I’m Orion’s father, and it wouldn’t be a lie.
“Father.” Seungcheol’s expression leavens with a look you can’t read. You haven’t known him for very long. “You.”
Wonwoo, though— you know Wonwoo. His face shutters over as he solidifies the decision he just made. His jaw clenches. “Yes.”
“And just where have you been all this time?”
“...I don’t think that’s any of your business.”
Seungcheol seems to hold in a scoff, and he tilts his head to glance at you before he returns Wonwoo’s glare. “I should think it is. Never fashioned myself a homewrecker.”
“We’re not together,” you blurt out, grasping to the only bit of truth within reach.
And then Wonwoo looks at you, and the fist around your heart lets go. A fire fills your lungs.
How dare he look hurt. How dare he show up out of nowhere, lie about the one thing you wished with your whole heart was true, then look hurt when you tell the actual truth. 
Seungcheol opens his mouth, but you leave him no room to speak. “You.” Wonwoo startles a bit when you jab your finger in his direction, then towards your apartment entryway. “Inside. You.” Your eyes meet Seungcheol’s. “Go home.”
A sizzling silence settles in the air.
Wonwoo’s shoulders rise and fall with a sigh, and to your surprise, he walks into your apartment without another word. Seungcheol, though, makes no move to walk away. God, you just want him to walk away.
Fine. “I’ll call you.”
At your white flag, Seungcheol’s eyes brighten with a slight smile. He holds out the flowers he brought. “I���ll be waiting.”
“Yeah. Okay. Bye.” You snatch the bouquet and close the door between you two.
When you step back into your apartment, Wonwoo is standing just past the coat tree, one hand in his pants pocket, a solemn face on as he studies the pattern of your flooring. For the first time, you notice a small bundle of blue flowers in his other hand. He looks up at you, but he waits for you to speak.
“What was that?”
He shrugs. “I… I don’t know.”
“You don’t know? Wonwoo, that was ridiculous! It was impulsive, stupid— I don’t even know why you would claim something like that, or what you’re even doing here—”
“The broken pot.” Wonwoo crosses his arms, the forget-me-nots half disappearing behind his elbow. “Minghao gave it to me, but that was you, wasn’t it?”
He phrases it like a question, but you know it’s not one. Something like an answer bubbles up your throat, but you choke it down. “You’re changing the subject.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“The pot,” he emphasizes, followed by your name. So simple, to hear your own name, but from his mouth, it almost hurts.
Exasperated, you lift your hands in the air only to drop them by your sides. “Why does it matter?”
“Because if you did it for the reason I think you did, then…”
“Then what?” you prompt when he trails off.
“Then you still care about me.”
His words hang uncomfortably in the air. You open your mouth, shut it, then cross your own arms. He just keeps his eyes on you, making you unable to look away.
You sigh. “And what of it?”
His eyes flash at your unspoken confirmation, and he takes a step closer. Slowly, he pulls the bouquet of tulips from you and replaces it with the forget-me-nots, putting his hands over yours to curl your fingers around the stems and delicate white ribbon. “I care about you too. I never stopped.”
You stare down at the flowers. “Wonwoo…”
“I want to apologize.” He rubs his thumb over the back of your hand. “For so much… but mostly for failing you. You wanted my help and I— I abandoned you. I didn’t trust you.” Releasing a long breath, he drops his head. “This isn’t an excuse, and it’s worse because I never told you, but I was so… insecure. I’d moved away, and I was so, so scared that I made a mistake. It felt like I did— I missed you so much. And I was scared you’d realize it one day, realize that I fucked up and I didn’t deserve you and you deserved someone who would stay in the country for you because you deserved everything, but if I went home then the time I’d already spent there — the time I spent without you — would be for nothing. And then I heard you did find someone better. Or… fuck, I thought you found someone better. I just broke. I’m sorry.” He raises his hand to lift your chin with one finger. “I’m sorry.”
Your eyes are watering. When did that happen?
“I still want to apologize, and keep apologizing,” he continues. “I want you to know how sorry I am for doing that to you.”
“I…”
“And if that’s ever enough, after everything I’ve done…” He glances down at your lips, then meets your eyes again. “...I want to go back to how we were. Before. When things were good.” He leans closer. “Better than good…”
Your eyes flutter shut.
“Mama?”
Alert in a matter of nanoseconds, you shove Wonwoo away and turn towards your son, who’s emerged from nap time, pyjamas askew. He’s dragged the large, green dinosaur plush along with him. That darn thing— he found it soon after his birthday and has hardly let it go since.
“Orion.” After placing the blue flowers on the counter, you go to him and scoop him up into your arms, soothing a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry baby, did we wake you up?”
“Mama,” he says again, then cups both his hands around your ear to whisper in the way a child does. Which is to say, not at all. “Bad guy is here.”
You pull your head back. “Bad guy?”
He nods, looks over at Wonwoo, then wraps his arms behind your neck and hides his face in your shoulder. Following your son’s example, you look at Wonwoo as well. The weight sinks in.
Orion’s getting bigger every day. At some point, you won’t be able to just carry him like this. He’ll never be as small as he was, and you’ll never be who you were before he came into your life.
“I’m sorry too, Wonwoo.” You hug Orion close. He’s already drifting back to sleep in your arms, so you speak softly. “But don’t you see? We can’t go back to things as they were. My life will never be like before.”
Wonwoo inhales. Exhales. Says nothing.
You don’t let his grim expression deter you. “I have a son now, and I’m— I’m not the same person you knew. If you want to go back to how we were… I’m sorry. I’m not that person anymore. I’m a parent.”
“I…”
“Whatever I’m a part of, Orion’s going to be part of it too. You understand, right?”
When Wonwoo stays silent, you release a resigned breath. Even though it’s reasonable, you still feel the ache of disappointment. Of course Wonwoo wouldn’t want to be the father of another man’s child. Of course you’re not worth it. Of course.
You pat Orion’s back. “Let’s get you back to bed, baby.”
Walking deeper into your apartment, you decide you don’t want to be around to watch Wonwoo leave. Better to save yourself the heartbreak. Once Orion’s tucked in with his stuffed dino, you busy yourself with picking his toys up off the floor and putting them in their respective bins.
You come out of the room with your eyes on the floor, but your head snaps up when he says your name.
“Wonwoo?” What are you still doing here?
He stands exactly where you left him; he didn’t move an inch.
“If…” he starts, nervously tapping his finger on his leg but keeping his eyes on yours with the determination of a soldier. “Would it be foolish to say I want everything?”
“Everything?”
“Your everything.”
The breath in your lungs hitches, and your hand rises to your chest, hovering over where your heart has paused in anticipation. “Even…?”
“Everything,” he says again. 
You gulp down the hope that rises like bile up your throat. “I think… I think it would be a little foolish.” Your voice wavers. “I don’t have much to offer anymore.”
At that admission, Wonwoo strides up to you and cups your cheek, his fingertips brushing your ear. You shiver as he presses a warm kiss to your forehead. “Don’t say that.”
“I…” Your heart hammers against your ribs. His kisses have always been your weakness, but the memory of his lips upon your skin is a stark reminder of the years since the last time you thought he loved you. “...I still haven’t forgiven you.” There. The last shield you have the strength to put up today.
Wonwoo backs away, but his hand runs down your arm to tangle your fingers with his. “I know,” he says with a sad smile. “I don’t deserve it yet.”
“Yet?”
He moves to grasp your hand firmly. “Will you let me try? To deserve it?”
“It’s not that simple,” you whisper.
“Maybe not.” Tilting his head, he roams his eyes over your face, the way he used to years ago. “But I still want to try.”
You wrap your arms around yourself. One last, flimsy barrier. “Alright, then.” Deep, dark eyes meet yours. “Try.”
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oby tagging 1, 50/50: @shiningstar-byulxx @shuabby-woowoo @90s-belladonna @xavi-in-kpopland @kachren @xmessaroundx @chwevernonlover @kwanisms @dalamjisung @1ntaktak @crazywittysassy @butterfliesinthenightsky @ddaengpotate @dorrysstuff @ckline35 @vanishingboots @potatofrieswithketchup @minhwa @oncecaratorbit @sugacookees @royal9 @doodlelibrary @myjaeyunn @yksthings @jundundun @amosmortese @jaeskz @seungmintree @woozarts @my-chaos-in-stars @yoonychoik @ksywoo @kellesvt @candidupped @sharkipoonis @wooahaeproductions @capsiclesworld @hellodefthings @sunshineshouchan @calumsfringe @caratinluv @pinkysinnerbaby @winterwallacehenderson @jvhoons @woo8hao @sxftiell @wondering-out-loud
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partycatty · 9 months
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i am so desperate to top dark star!johnny he makes me so horny mad, like someone humble that son of a bitch. it so doesn’t fit him to be topped but 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️
UGHHH UR SO ME FR!!!! LMFAOOAAO i love pathetic men!!!! i love projecting my kinks onto my fics — WHAAAT WHO SAID THAAAT????
for those unfamiliar with dark star!johnny
dark star!johnny cage > payback
you have had it up to HERE with the white man's utter nonsense.
warnings: you humble evil johnny sexually. 😀 no but fr this is nsfw, bratty johnny and he hates it, he says "stop" and "no" but we all know he's lying and he loves it (afab reader)
notes: i was so excited to write this i don't even think it's coherent i'm literally barking gnawing frothing foaming i crawled to my pc to boot up the game to make gifs of him for future use bc i know DAMN well i will come back to this clown
masterlist &lt;3
i will microwave him.
part 1* / part 2* / part 4* / part 5* / part 6*
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•lord have mercy where do i even begin.
•alright, so let's paint a picture here.
•dark star!johnny may have stupid amounts of money, but he's a fucking idiot. he didn't spend a single cent on you for christmas! he'd argue with you for hours, saying both "i am the gift!" and "i buy you enough shit the rest of the year and now you want more?"
•when you argue to the point of running out of new things to bring up, you decide to angrily drop the topic entirely and move on with life. that is, until you hear johnny's muffled voice call from you from upstairs as you begin to prep dinner several days after the holiday.
•"sweet cheeks, a hand would be nice!" he shouts, a suspiciously evident grin in his tone of voice. you roll your eyes as his persistent cocky nature, but your frown turns into a little gasp when you open the bedroom to your shared door.
•this absolute idiot is sitting face down ass up on your silk sheets, tied down nice and tight with a thick red ribbon. a bow rests on his neck and broad chest. The Coat is discarded on a chair beside the bed, but everything else is still on. he smushes his cheek against the sheets as he desperately tries and cranes his head to look at you.
•"heeeey babe," he'll meekly greet you, shimmying his shoulders. "i, uh. i was going to surprise you. but i kinda fell forward and couldn't get back up. it was supposed to be a sexy pose but i tied my arms down before anything else and i can't prop myself up."
•"you're a dumbass," you reply back with a frown, not entirely amused as much as he is. "you think this makes up for your fuckup?"
•"...yes?"
•"no! and you know what? i'm gonna fucking enjoy this whether you like it or not!" you sigh with exasperation, slapping his clothed ass pretty hard, the sound of contact echoing in your large bedroom. he lets out a whiny shout, trying to tug his hips away from you out of desperation and ending up flopping onto his back.
•"hey! not fucking funny. i hate when you do that," he'll complain with a scowl, but his protests are hard to take seriously when he flips over and reveals an angry boner throbbing against his pants.
•"yeah, that's why you have a raging hard-on," you reply with a dramatic groan, grabbing a handful of his thick shaft through his dress pants. he yelps again, twitching his hips upward as you feel his heartbeat through his cock. "i'm not helping you up, johnny. this is payback. for christmas."
•you climb on top of him, hovering your lips right above his in a sickeningly sweet way. johnny, like the needy whore he is, tries to lift his head up and capture your lips, but you cut the attempt short when you expertly undo his belt in a swift one-handed motion and squeeze his dick through his boxer briefs. his once puckered lips open to let out a deep, strained whine, and you feel a warm wetness in his pants as you milk the pre-cum from his tip with your grasp alone.
•ohhh he is in AGONY. ds!johnny literally HATES when he's not in control, and even though he feels his dick get impossibly harder, he's still writhing at the thought of not being the leader.
•"come on, dollface," he'll try to protest with furrowed brows, but you see the way he bites his bottom lip. "don't play mean. that's not how this was meant to go."
•you don't even reply to his annoyance, you just stick a finger between his neck and the ribbon around it, tugging it and sending a wave of pressure on the sides of his neck. his eyes involuntarily roll back as you temporarily choke him with his own doing.
•"you're gonna take it, aren't you? the torture?" you ask, palming him through his underwear and holding his face close to yours. his expression contorts instantly at your roughness. "how are you gonna fucking like it when i treat you like shit?"
•"you'll regret it," he groans out in an attempted threat, but it ends up sounding more breathy and gravely than intended. "you'll fucking regret crossing me like this."
•he's literally the one that had the genius idea to tie himself up. he's a Grade A idiot for putting himself in the situation to begin with. or maybe he likes it :)
•you hastily tug your own pants off, shaking your leg to throw them aside. once you're free of the fabric, you pull down johnny's pants too, since he hasn't got the ability to do it on his own. sure enough, his underwear is already definitely stained, and yours is getting there. the sight along made a wetness pool in your panties. something about such a cocky, annoying man finally being put in his place was starting to drive you a little wild as you straddle his hips.
•you shove your panties aside and settle them in the crack between you pussy and thighs, and return the gesture to your boyfriend by tugging his waistband down and unleashing his little jonathan (sorry). his pink, angry cock springs free and slaps against your tummy. you giggle.
•"ha, ha. very funny. untie me now," johnny whines again with a frustrated tone, but there's a hint of blush on his cheeks as he looks away from your body on top of his. his anger contorts into needy moans when you wrap your fingers around his dick, stroking at a medium pace and coating himself in his own precum. "ngh, fuck — stop it, i'm not fucking playing around — aah —"
•his back hopelessly arches as you lazily stroke his dick. when you decide he's hot and ready enough for the real thing after he turns into a blabbering mess, you hover above his dick and grab two fistfuls of the ribbons; one on his neck and one on his chest. his pretty lips part as he catches his breath from the sudden movement, eyes darting across your features.
•as he tries to make sense of your bold move, you sink down onto his throbbing cock and fully take him in your walls. he's unable to writhe and squirm as you hold him in place firmly. johnny's eyebrows knit together and he swiftly moves his head to the side, his sunglasses crooked and dropping on his hooked nose. when he finally gets the strength to look down at your pussy engulfing his length, he whines at the beautiful sight and involuntarily bucks up to relieve the strain. you immediately let out a little shout of discipline and pull his upper body toward you.
•"my pace or no pace," you warn through gritted teeth. "don't pull that shit again."
•"or what?" he replies with a cocky grin, his horniness absolutely dripping from his voice. "you don't scare me." as he tries to play right back, you slam yourself down on his cock again without warning, his tip kissing your cervix invitingly. his eyes widen and he yelps out pathetically before turning it into an angry groan. "you're such a fucking bitch. i hate you."
•he starts to spew more utter nonsense about hating you and you being a bitch as you start to actually ride him, for once at your own pace. he's typically fucking up into you but this time he's tied down and taking it like a good boy! you needed this, though, to let out your frustrations with him lately. it's incredibly funny that, yes, he could technically just start bucking his hips into you, but you take note that he's actually listening to your threat and allowing himself to be used. you remind yourself to ask him to top him more often. i doubt he'd say yes.
•your pace becomes a relentless combination of slamming his cock and grinding on it to stimulate your clit, and johnny has now turned into a whimpering mess. his perfect hair was sticking to his forehead and flying out in all directions, his sunglasses were just barely hanging onto the bridge of his nose. all the while, he's still sputtering complains about being used and begging you to stop, but they sound hungrier than disgusted. your deep moans drown out his whines and cries, and you frankly don't really care about how he feels.
•you've officially fucked him stupid. he can't even get a proper word out as he's now trying to literally break the ribbons and give him access to his hands, but he's so horny he can't find the strength he typically has.
•"b... stop — babe — 'm gonna cum if you — aah, oh you fucker —" johnny starts to twitch and whimper, thrashing his head side to side as he gets closer toward release. you don't really give a shit though, as you're now chasing your own orgasm as your grinding becomes increasingly uneven. you grab hold of his neck to stabilize yourself, and the coil in your core snaps, your body sending waves of blissful pleasure through your entire being. you're violently reminded of your boyfriend's impending load when he throws away all command you gave him and starts fucking up into your sensitive pussy, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes as he pathetically tries to get himself there, too.
•you're acutely familiar with how his cock throbs when he's about to cum, and you use this information to your advantage as you abruptly pull yourself up and away right as he shoots his load. he lets out a damn near cry for help as he makes a complete mess of himself. it shoots up high, painting his stomach and chest as his hips thrust into nothing.
•"YOU FUCKING —" he groans out, eyes clenched shut as his desperation makes him act out. "I WANTED TO CUM INSIDE. YOU KNOW THAT'S MY FAVORITE. AND YOU RUINED A PERFECTLY NICE SHIRT!"
•all you do is return to straddling his hips, sliding your panties back into place and catching your breath.
•"but you look better like this," you reply lowly, taking a flat palm and putting it on his stomach. "all tied down and fucked out. i could get used to it. besides, this was my gift, wasn't it?"
•as his head tilts back to regain his composure, you snap a quick photo of his cum-stained shirt, flushed expression, and weeping dick.
•"consider this payback," you chuckle, wiggling the photo in front of his eyes. "i might just post this everywhere if you don't get me anything for my birthday next."
•"delete that, you cunt," he hisses back, once again trying to free himself. "untie me now. fun's over."
•"nah, i'm good," you reply, your annoying boyfriend being restrained giving you a dangerous amount of confidence. "i think i'll just leave you here. not before cleaning up your cum with your coat, maybe."
•"DO NOT USE MY COAT. IT WAS EXPENSIVE."
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saintvainglorious · 8 months
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My First Fanbind! A Black Sails Fic Anthology Series
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It took me a year (and a lot of anxious research) before I worked up the courage to bookbind fanfiction, and after months of on-again-off-again work, my first fanbind is finally done!
I knew that if I was going to bookbind fic, I had to bind something from the Black Sails fandom, aka the fandom and show that have had the biggest impact on my life. Y'all, I almost went into academia to study slavery in the 17th-18th century Caribbean because of this show - when folks say this show rewires your brain chemistry, they are NOT kidding. THEE show of all time. Happy 10th anniversary to Black Sails! This fandom is small but mighty. May we continue to get our hearts and souls blasted to smithereens by this show for many years to come.
Ao3 abounds with magnificent Black Sails oneshots, so I decided to put together an anthology of my favorite Silverflint fics under 20k, which I split into two volumes. Included are works by @justlikeeddie, @vowel-in-thug, @balloonstand, @annevbonny, @francisthegreat, @nysscientia, and more! Thank you, thank you all, you brilliant wonderful people, for gracing the Internet with such amazing writing. When I read the fics in these anthologies I want to fling myself into the sun.
More on the design and binding process below the cut!
Vol. 1 Page Count: 270 (12 fics) Vol. 2 Page Count: 248 (11 fics) Body Font: Sabon Next LT (10.5 pt) Title Font: Goudy Old Style Other Fonts: IM Fell English, pirates pw
The typeset (which I did in Word) took a while, mainly because I'd never done it before. Manually adjusting the hyphenation line-by-line was especially tedious. After making these books, I abandoned Word in favor of InDesign, in large part because InDesign gives you way finer control over your justification and hyphenation settings.
Regarding my actual design choices, I'm happy with how the ocean motif on the title page turned out (it's not the same pattern as my endpapers, but they're complimentary) and I'm very fond of my divider dingbats, which are little swords! Goudy Old Style was a fun title font to use, since it's the font that Black Sails uses as its logo. The stories in Vol. 1 are divided into parts based on what Silver WAS at that point in the show (cook, quartermaster, or king), and Vol. 2 is split up into comedies, histories (AUs set in the canon universe) and tragedies - befitting Black Sails' Shakespearean ~vibes~.
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I stuck to a flatback binding, as I wasn't feeling quite ambitious enough to try rounding and/or backing. I've learned that I ~Anakin Skywalker voice~ hate sanding, enjoy folding/sewing, and don't LIKE edge trimming but enjoy the results enough to make it worth it.
The real adventure was decorating the cover, which remained bare for months. After agonizing over Illustrator and experimenting unsuccessfully with HTV and lokta paper embossing, I ultimately turned to using stencil vinyl to paint on the designs. There was a bit of seepage under some of the stencils, but I was able to scrape off the excess with my Cricut weeding tool without damaging the coated surface of the bookcloth (probably Arrestox Blue Ribbon from Hollander's). Even though it was very time-consuming, I'm so happy with the end result of the stenciled paint job and I intend to stick with stencils for my foreseeable future binds.
Are there things I would change? Sure. It was humid out when I printed, so the pages have got a wave. There’s an extra two pages in Vol 2. that I have no idea how I missed, and I got a line of glue in the middle of one of my Vol. 2 endpapers. I’m pretty sure I didn’t case in quite right, since my endpapers pull away from the case at the spine. I think the inner margins are a bit too big, and despite going line-by-line there’s still some wacky justification spacing in the typeset. But man, am I proud of these books! It is so satisfying to learn a new skill - MANY new skills, if we’re being honest - and to make something both beautiful and practical. If I’m still binding in two years or so, I can see myself redoing the typeset in InDesign, cutting out the existing text block, and reusing the cases. I’m also already planning for Vol. 3, which will be Silverflint Modern AUs.
Thanks for reading!
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skygoldart · 2 months
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ETHO S10 COSPLAY
It’s mostly done so here’s the progress
The design:
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I created this design using the fandom headcannon that Etho is a fox hybrid and combined that with the Japanese themes this season to make a kitsune hybrid, putting the red accents into the white fur.
The vest
I patterned the vest using plastic wrap and duct tape and then made a mock-up with an old curtain I had laying around.
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I got some pink and green fabric (pink to tie in with @basic-amoeba ‘s s10 Joel cosplay) and found some green scraps with a cool ornamental pattern on them to put across the shoulder blades.
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Not bad for a first time making an article of clothing by myself.
The mask
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I wanted the eye scar to show from a distance so I hand embroidered red thread extending down from where the makeup scar is drawn
The pants were bought for the cosplay but I did sew on some pink ribbons to tie in the pink more into the costume.
The tail and ears!
I have a lot of fun sewing fur projects and tails with patterns are especially fun.
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To make a patterned tail, I first draw out the design to scale on a large piece of paper. I then cut out all the pieces that are different colors, labeling which directions the fur goes and what color they are.
I use those pieces as patterns to trace and cut out twice of the fur fabric.
Next, I blanket stitch around all the edges on each side where the fur pattern belongs. Since it’s being hand sewn, not much seam allowance is necessary.
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I sew the two pieces together and brush down the fur to check that the pattern is symmetrical.
Since the tail does have a pattern, it requires shaving and trimming around the markings to make them stand out and look sharper.
The difference it makes:
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Last few steps involve sewing on a double elastic loop for a belt, then stuffing it.
If I wanted a more stable tail, I would have added a flat base to go against my back and without it, it moves a lot more
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The ears are made by tracing out the shape of the ear(unfolded) into fur, lining the inside with a wire and thin eva foam. They are carefully trimmed and then drawn on with a pastel. I forgot to seal with with hairspray so the wig now has some pink patches where the ears go.
To add the markings and tufts, I simply glued red fur patches on and trimmed the fur to match the fur around it. I later added hairspray to shape the tufts and inner ear fur.
Some last details
The headband:
I made the headband using a tube of pink fabric that has been ironed flat with some shaped and painted Eva foam as the headband. I used a dremel to carve the hearts as well as adding scratches and dents for weathering.
Contacts:
I only wear one contact with this cosplay and it is a red mini sclera
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This cosplay still has some things to add, but it’s at a good point to show how far it’s come!
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no-name-publishing · 8 months
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Interim (and company) by starkraving
After what has literally been a year and a month, I can call this project finished. The highs and lows of American football. You understand. Very grateful to the author for having written it and letting me bind them a copy! More photos and process pics under the cut.
The bookcloth material is faux suede, and the title decoration is cut from a glossy transparent HTV. The effect is completely swoon worthy, and exactly as I'd imagined it. That said I had a difficult time conceptualizing a design for the case at all; my only working idea was the endband, ribbon bookmark, and head and tail decoration. For 6 months everything I was coming up with for the cover was clashing very hard against these elements. So instead I took steps backwards, and thought how I could make something simple still visually interesting. I decided the difference in physical texture and appearance between the faux suede cloth and a glossy transparent HTV could be just what I was looking for, and I think it worked incredibly well.
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The endband is done with adapted renaissance endbands in opposing directions, with a simple wrap of red thread in the center. I don't think peek-a-boo is the right phrase but nonetheless. The head and tail are painted with spray paint, in a gradient pattern that fades as it nears the foredge. The light blue accent lines are also spray paint, applied with a stencil I drew and made myself.
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Typesetting shots. I use Word to typeset, and everything is designed and arranged within the program. Body font is Cochineal, the decorative title font is Caesar, as well as Sheikah and Hylian script.
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The tiny books are simple, using elements from the main bind to tie them together. These are the spin-off short stories starkraving recently released as part of the Interim series. A testament to exactly how long this bind took me to complete, otherwise I would have included these in the main book. Oh well, it means I got to make tiny books.
Little video showing off the pieces. Particularly proud of the title page.
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Process shots starting at my early test run of the my endband idea, to spraying the head and tail. Sewing the primary endband, and the completed bands on both books.
Very pleased altogether with how this came out. Also pleased to have it out of my WIP pile where I can take it off the shelf and fondle it whenever I want.
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