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postmodernbeliever · 5 months

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Thoroughfare- Fox Mulder x Female Reader

Chapter Five: Two Creams, Two Sugars, and a Little Blood

table of contents <3

if you’d prefer my ao3 | word count: 3,750

TW: mentions of murder details, some slight graphic description.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

You were running a little late, which meant you were scatterbrained to the nines. You managed to fall asleep at some point between when Fox left your room and when the rain stopped and you forgot to set your alarm, so now you tore through the motel room like a tornado. You were exhausted, all the residual stress and anxiety of yesterday catching up to you, and you weren’t even dressed by the time your partner came knocking at your door. Bright and early, too- seven in the morning- and he was chipper as a bird. You wondered if he ever slept because you could see the violet shadows that caused his green eyes to glow, but he was in far better shape than you were. You swung the door open and then shut it, realizing you had two rollers sitting matronly atop your head, and you were in a wrinkled dress shirt and pajama pants, squinting without any contacts in. You opened it again, revealing just a sliver of yourself to a bewildered face.

“Woah. Good morning, sunshine,” Fox sing-songed.

You peeked through the crack of the doorway, and he was smiling sweetly at you, holding two paper cups. He nudged the door open to hand you the coffee, which you took gratefully, feeling the crabbiness of caffeine deficiency creeping up already. You were almost jealous of how easy it must be for him to wake up and get ready. His hair was tucked tidily atop his forehead, but he was not dressed in uniform- all he wore was a pair of slacks and a blue button-down, no tie, with the sleeves rolled up. You knew he was smarter for it because the mugginess hit you smack in the face when you opened the door, but you got a whiff of the piney scent he wore and knew he probably rolled out of bed ten minutes ago just looking alright to begin with. How nice would it be to look like that in just a few minutes, needing only a comb and some cologne to make you presentable? If you didn’t know any better, you could’ve seen him wearing something like this on a date, all laid-back, careless, dripping with charm as always…

Visibly flustered, you croaked, “Morning. Thank you,”

“Yeah, no problem. They have a coffee maker in the office. It’s not great, but after last night, I don’t trust any of those shops in town claiming they’ve got the best coffee in Marysville,” Fox joked, “You, uh, you don’t look ready,”

“Sorry,” you winced, “I overslept.”

“It’s okay. They want us down at the M.E.’s office, but we have a little time. I’ll wait for you.”

“I’ll just be a minute!”

You made him stand outside as you shuffled into a pencil skirt, hoping it was wiser for the weather, and tugged a little cardigan over your creased blouse. You grabbed your makeup pouch and took it with you, hoping he wouldn’t pay much attention to your bare face. He may have seen you last night, but you’d already convinced yourself that it was dark enough to hide anything of notoriety. The agent chuckled when you opened the door again, seeing your arms full with a coat that it was far too hot out for, the coffee, a loose gun and badge, a glasses case, your hairbrush– you looked like you just looted a house of all its most unimportant belongings.

“Let me take that for you,” he stole the coffee back and walked you to the truck parked outside your rooms, opening the door for you. You hopped inside and threw your crap in the backseat, and he slid into the driver’s side, setting your drinks down in the cupholders. He started the truck and gave the engine a minute to warm up, reaching for the Kansas map that you left on the dashboard, but he wasn’t really looking for directions to meet the coroner. He peeked at you in his peripheral, watching as you swiped some kind of sheer powder across your face, smoothing your complexion over. He never noticed the little beauty mark on the bridge of your nose, but now he watched you paint over it, and he wished you wouldn’t. You’ve gotten ready like this before, he could tell; you had the motions down, knowing exactly how not to poke your eyes out with the mascara and not to overdo the blush in the car. When he felt like he’d sufficiently given the engine enough time, he placed the map down between you two on the bench and shifted it into reverse.

“You okay if I start driving?”

You turned to him, mid-lipstick swipe, and you nodded. “Sure. I don’t look like a mess, do I?” Fox admired how you pushed your glasses on, adding, “I forgot about my contacts. I feel like a librarian.”

“No. You look… smart.”

“Wow, thanks,” you giggled, rolling your eyes. “I’ll try not to take that as an insult.”

“Well, who wants to look stupid?”

Yours challenged the flush of his cheeks, and you rolled down the window, letting some of the hot air out of the car. He began to back out of the motel, taking a right onto the main road.

You’d never seen the Midwest in the morning. The sun wasn’t high yet, so everything had a soft, golden tone to it; the wheat fields swayed, lining the street into town, homes croaked on sprawling acres, and street signs were so faded you had to rely on the shapes to conclude the directions they gave. It was silent, only birds and wind. You liked this part of the middle of nowhere. Back in D.C., and even worse in New York, people are everywhere, clogging the streets until they burst, cutting you off and giving you the finger. You can’t get a seat at a restaurant. You have to get put on a list for bestsellers at the library. But out here, life is slow. There’s always room to breathe, and to look up and see actual stars, rather than cloudy, light-polluted skies. Something about that spoke to you. You found yourself thinking that maybe someday when your work was done with law enforcement, and you have some money put away, you could come back out here and buy a little bungalow and live out the rest of your days in a place where you don’t have to worry about running out of space and time. Fox seemed to enjoy the quaintness of it all, too, because he was quiet as a mouse beside you.

Fox drove straight through town, and you finally got a glimpse of what the local life looked like as you passed. There weren’t many men around, but given that it was mainly an agricultural economy down here, they were probably out working on the farms. But there were pretty women in sundresses crawling up and down the streets with coffee cups and big purses, hair done up like it was a Sunday; little kids were scuttling down the sidewalks towards the school near the police station. You spotted Sheriff Hale’s car parked outside the bakery, but no one inside.

“Wonder where all these people were yesterday,” you observed.

“At the crime scene,” your partner answered, shooting you an apologetic glance. “I think we showed up at an unusual time.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

You rolled the window up a bit, knowing you were allowing your hair to poof up like yesterday. You settled against the bench seat and took up the map, flipping to the larger scale with the main country road running through. With your finger, you followed it to the county medical examiner's office, which was a whopping sixty miles from Marysville. You knew this place was a blip on the radar, but you had no idea just how far away you were from civilization. Fox’s screw-ups getting you both here had skewed your sense of direction.

“Jeez, we’ve got a while to go. You see this?” You asked, pointing to the location.

Fox glanced over and gave a wry chuckle. “Yeah. Straight shot up. We should get there in a little over an hour if I ignore these speed limits,” he winked, pointing to a sign.

You watched it fly by, announcing the stretch of road was a 35 miles per hour zone, and you smiled. Flopping the map onto the dashboard, you reached for your cup of coffee and took a sip, relishing in the room-temperature taste. It tasted good for about a second, and then it turned sour on your tongue. No cream, no sugar. Your face scrunched up and you smacked your lips. Fox seemed to have his own lightbulb going off, and he kept one hand on the wheel while he reached across your lap to open up the glove compartment. You drew in a short breath as his arm brushed against your thigh, and when he uprighted himself, you huffed in frustration.

“You could’ve swerved us into the field, Fox. Why don’t you let me open the damn thing? I’m sitting right in front of it!”

“Jeez. We’re on the road, aren’t we, Piglet?” he mocked, gesturing for you to look inside. A mess of pink sugar packets and little cream containers littered the compartment, and he giggled, “I didn’t know how you liked your coffee.”

A shameful heat flooded your chest, and you shut your mouth.

“You’re welcome.”

You grabbed two creams and two sugars, and as you stirred them into the chilling coffee with your finger, Fox made a note of how you took it and kept driving. You piped down and watched the scenery go by, all yellow fields and blue sky, and wondered what they might have found regarding Liane’s death. What you were aware of from the case files was the girls were all beaten and penetrated postmortem, but in the last murders, the object of violation wasn’t ever identified. There was no clear definition of the instrument used in the mutilation of their bodies, either. Everything was suspiciously contactless, like whoever was murdering these teenagers never had to lay a hand on them to do it; you weren’t sure how that was possible, and you weren’t convinced it was. Someone had to be committing these crimes. It was just in a way you’d never seen.

You were engrossed in your thoughts when Fox began to slow the car to a stop in the center of the road. You saw his attention being drawn by a dilapidated building on the side of the route– a building that could barely fit twenty people was rotting all over, with an eaten-away roof and rusted windows. You would’ve assumed it to be an abandoned shack if it weren’t for the silver cross nailed to the front door.

“Is that a church?”

“I think so. It’s not on the map.” Fox replied, turning off the engine and unbuckling his seatbelt.

“Hey, wait, we have to get to the–”

“I’ll only be a minute. It’s not like anyone’s driving out here anyway.”

You watched the man slip out of the car and trot around the front, heading off the road. You sat for a second, watching him disappear into the overgrown weeds, and a pressure began to inflate in your chest.

“Damn it.”

You unbuckled yourself and hopped out of the car, leaving your door wide open as you followed in his footsteps. You watched the church door close, his hands slipping out of view behind it, and you groaned. You patted your hip to find you forgot to grab your gun, so you prayed to God that these wouldn’t be your last moments alive, stranded in Kansas with Spooky Mulder. You walked up to the door, looking back to check no one was coming on the road, and you huffed, pulling it open. Stepping inside, you instantly felt disgusting. It was dark and windowless, trapping all the heat in a dead building where mold was absolutely growing within the walls. The only light inside poked through holes in the wood where bugs probably had eaten through, and everything was upturned or offset. It looked like people had left in a hurry- there was still a cloth atop the altar, and Bibles were discarded on the six slender pews filling the room. You looked around for Fox, walking further down the aisle when you heard a creaking from somewhere behind you. Turning quickly on your heels, you saw nobody by the door, and then a creak sounded again, this time too quick for you to locate its direction. You slowly turned back towards the alter, and when your eyes caught up with your body, the agent appeared but inches from your face, holding a flashlight and shining it on a creepy expression. You yelped and turned away from him, covering your face.

“Fuck! You scared me, Fox!”

“Peace be with you,” he wiggled his eyebrows, digging into that creepy smile.

“Not funny.”

“What, you don’t enjoy a little blasphemy? I thought you weren’t religious.”

“Not particularly,” you grumbled, “But I don’t like getting snuck up on. You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

Fox dropped the flashlight and let his expression mold into something much more like himself, and he hummed. “Good to know.”

You pushed past him and stepped up onto the stage, feeling a bit odd. If your father were here, he wouldve insisted you make the sign of the cross and kneel before it, but you haven’t done that in quite a while. Instead, you paced the sinking platform, running your fingers over the dust-covered podium and chairs.

“What do you think happened here?”

“I don’t know. The rapture?” Fox scoffed, picking up a Bible that was hanging split open over the back of a pew, and flipping through the thin pages. “Looks like everyone up and left.”

“Yeah,”

You walked to the back wall, in front of the chairs, where there was a little wooden trapdoor. You tugged it open, fighting with the swollen lumber, and inside was a silver bowl full of what looked like wine, and beside it, a torn-open package of Eucharist.

“Hey, come look at this,” you called for your partner, and he stepped out of the pews to meet you at the altar.

Upon seeing the contents inside the wall, he asked, “What is this, like, a makeshift tabernacle?”

“Might be. But this bowl looks polished, and…” you paused to reach into the Eucharist bag, taking one and popping it into your mouth, “These are fresh, not stale.”

“You think someone’s been back to replace the bread and body?”

Curiously, you dipped your fingertip into the wine, and a violent chill ran down your back. The liquid was a familiar viscosity as it ran down into your palm, staining the creases. You drew the bowl out of the cupboard and carefully raised it to your nose, and a gag rose in your throat.

“That’s not wine,” you choked, “Jesus!”

Fox leaned down to sniff it, catching the metallic warning, and his eyes blew wide with shock. “Blood.”

You put the bowl back inside the cupboard and shut the door, feeling an anxiety swell in your chest. You stared at the brownish-red on your finger and thought of how it once belonged to somebody, and now it was sitting inside an abandoned church. You stumbled back like you were learning to walk, heading down the altar steps and to the pews.

“Can we please get out of here?” You pleaded at Fox, who stood at the tabernacle making faces.

“You know, now that I think of it, the other girls in the file had a loss of blood reported in their autopsies. Each a few pints. I figured it was a result of the mutilation of their chest cavities, but it could be possible that some of the blood was for sacrifice…”

“You think this has to do with the case?”

Fox began to pace, spanning the church from wall to wall as he mused. “Think about it. Whoever’s killing these girls is doing it for some divine purpose, right? What if they’re making sacrifices to God with their blood, the blood of another who’s untainted and innocent as Jesus Christ?”

“Fox–”

“No, seriously, it makes sense! This guy is clearly working in the shadow of Iscariot, and if that guy had a connection to the real Judas, wouldn’t he need to atone for his sins passed down through history? By sacrificing pure blood to God he could be saving himself from damnation in his own twisted way. Maybe his God-fearing devotion drives him to kill, to make up for Judas’ betrayal.”

“But the sacrifice of human blood isn’t exactly Catholic,” you pointed out.

“Sure it is, people drink it every Sunday!”

“Yeah, but that’s not–”

“You were not redeemed with corruptible things as gold and silver, but with the precious blood of Christ, as a lamb unspotted and defiled,” the man recited, “Peter 1:18. Maybe it’s not widley known as human sacrifice, but Christ and the lamb are thought of as one. Maybe this guy is recreating the sacrifice in the hopes that he will be forgiven. Offering up sacrificial lambs to win the favor of Heaven.”

Fox reached to open the tabernacle again, then hesitated. Turning to you, he asked, “Would you do me a favor?”

“What?”

“Could you go grab my coffee cup from the truck?”

You looked at his hand on the tabernacle door, and looked to the blood on your palm, and you rolled your eyes in utter disbelief. “Fox, no way.”

“If I had a vile, I’d ask for that, but–”

“You are not going to bring that shit into our rental car!”

“What if this blood belongs to Liane, Ro? We owe it to her to find out what happened. And maybe it isn’t hers, but it’s someone’s, isn’t it? What if he’s already got another victim?”

“We don’t even know if it’s our guy!”

Fox shot you a look that said, You know it is. He wasn’t going to budge, and you knew it. You watched him open the cupboard and take the bowl out, carefully walking it to the table at the altar. Even if you wanted to leave and forget you ever stumbled upon this shithole, you knew he was right. Churches don’t store human blood in silver bowls, and if that belonged to someone who could be in danger or already dead, it was your duty to find out. You let out a stressed groan and hurried out the front door, jogging back to the truck. The sudden sunshine strained your eyes, but even through a squint in both directions on the road, there was still not a soul to be seen out there. You leaned in through the open passenger side door, fished his empty coffee cup from the cupholder, and hurried back inside where the man waited with the bowl in his hands.

“It’s gonna be contaminated,” you nagged.

“Well, we can’t just leave it here. You know that.”

Fox was careful to only pour a little of the blood into the cup, and even more careful not to spill it on you or the mildewed carpet. Once there was an espresso shot’s worth, he tipped the bowl back level and shoved it in the tabernacle, shutting the door tight on it. You fastened the lid onto the cup and held it between two fingers, freaking out just to have it in your grasp. You followed the man down the steps again, and he held the church doors open for you, which you walked through quickly, hoping it would be the last time you ever had to.

“We can get this tested at the county morgue, they can test it alongside Liane’s blood to see if there’s a match,” Fox explained, taking the evidence from your hand as you hopped into the truck.

You placed your dirty hand on the door handle and said, “You’re crazy.”

“We would’ve never found it if I wasn’t.”

He shut your door for you, and then he clambered behind the wheel, placing the blood down beside your coffee cup, which you elected to have no more of. As he started up the engine and remind himself of how many more miles he had to go on the map, you tapped his shoulder. The two of you gazed through the windshield as a little truck with a tow attachment sped past, the first car you’d seen all day. Inside was a pale man, one you didn��t get a good look at, but you saw his dark hair and small eyes, and as he drove by you felt the presence of him like an omen. You remembered how it felt to look at Liane’s cold face, and recognized the feeling as the same. Maybe you were just on edge, but everything about this felt very, very wrong.

“Something’s off about that guy,” Fox scratched his forehead in thought, “Should we follow him?”

“What? No. We’re going to see the medical examiner. Now.”

“Well–”

“Fox, you dragged me into a church and made me put blood into a coffee cup. Drive.”

“You could’ve waited in the car–”

“I said drive!”

Fox raised his palms in surrender and chuckled, shifting the car into gear and pedaling away down the road. You watched the run-down church grow small in the rearview mirror until it disappeared, and you wondered what happened inside. Maybe everyone did get up and leave. Maybe a Mass had gone horribly wrong. Maybe teenagers broke in and trashed the place. Maybe God had come down, or He had brought them up. But of all the theories you could draw, not one of them explained what that blood was doing inside the wall, and even if it was your job, you weren’t entirely sure you wanted to know. Liane’s face flashed before your eyes as you closed them and slumped in your seat. Fox watched you out of the corner of his eye, and he saw the blood on your finger, and he hoped that you’d come away from this case with more than just resentment for his insane methods. He kept driving, and you kept breathing, and the both of you prayed that the medical examiner hadn’t called the Bureau about the agents who were an hour late for their meeting.

“Woah. Good morning, sunshine,” Fox sing-songed.

Visibly flustered, you croaked, “Morning. Thank you,”

“Sorry,” you winced, “I overslept.”

“It’s okay. They want us down at the M.E.’s office, but we have a little time. I’ll wait for you.”

“I’ll just be a minute!”

“You okay if I start driving?”

“No. You look… smart.”

“Wow, thanks,” you giggled, rolling your eyes. “I’ll try not to take that as an insult.”

“Well, who wants to look stupid?”

Yours challenged the flush of his cheeks, and you rolled down the window, letting some of the hot air out of the car. He began to back out of the motel, taking a right onto the main road.

“Wonder where all these people were yesterday,” you observed.

“At the crime scene,” your partner answered, shooting you an apologetic glance. “I think we showed up at an unusual time.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Jeez, we’ve got a while to go. You see this?” You asked, pointing to the location.

Fox glanced over and gave a wry chuckle. “Yeah. Straight shot up. We should get there in a little over an hour if I ignore these speed limits,” he winked, pointing to a sign.

“You could’ve swerved us into the field, Fox. Why don’t you let me open the damn thing? I’m sitting right in front of it!”

A shameful heat flooded your chest, and you shut your mouth.

“You’re welcome.”

“Is that a church?”

“I think so. It’s not on the map.” Fox replied, turning off the engine and unbuckling his seatbelt.

“Hey, wait, we have to get to the–”

“I’ll only be a minute. It’s not like anyone’s driving out here anyway.”

“Damn it.”

“Fuck! You scared me, Fox!”

“Peace be with you,” he wiggled his eyebrows, digging into that creepy smile.

“Not funny.”

“What, you don’t enjoy a little blasphemy? I thought you weren’t religious.”

“Not particularly,” you grumbled, “But I don’t like getting snuck up on. You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

Fox dropped the flashlight and let his expression mold into something much more like himself, and he hummed. “Good to know.”

You pushed past him and stepped up onto the stage, feeling a bit odd. If your father were here, he would've insisted you make the sign of the cross and kneel before it, but you haven’t done that in quite a while. Instead, you paced the sinking platform, running your fingers over the dust-covered podium and chairs.

“What do you think happened here?”

“I don’t know. The rapture?” Fox scoffed, picking up a Bible that was hanging split open over the back of a pew, and flipping through the thin pages. “Looks like everyone up and left.”

“Yeah,”

“Hey, come look at this,” you called for your partner, and he stepped out of the pews to meet you at the altar.

Upon seeing the contents inside the wall, he asked, “What is this, like, a makeshift tabernacle?”

“Might be. But this bowl looks polished, and…” you paused to reach into the Eucharist bag, taking one and popping it into your mouth, “These are fresh, not stale.”

“You think someone’s been back to replace the bread and body?”

“That’s not wine,” you choked, “Jesus!”

Fox leaned down to sniff it, catching the metallic warning, and his eyes blew wide with shock. “Blood.”

“Can we please get out of here?” You pleaded at Fox, who stood at the tabernacle making faces.

“You think this has to do with the case?”

“Fox–”

“But the sacrifice of human blood isn’t exactly Catholic,” you pointed out.

“Sure it is, people drink it every Sunday!”

“Yeah, but that’s not–”

Fox reached to open the tabernacle again, then hesitated. Turning to you, he asked, “Would you do me a favor?”

“What?”

“Could you go grab my coffee cup from the truck?”

You looked at his hand on the tabernacle door, and looked to the blood on your palm, and you rolled your eyes in utter disbelief. “Fox, no way.”

“If I had a vile, I’d ask for that, but–”

“You are not going to bring that shit into our rental car!”

“What if this blood belongs to Liane, Ro? We owe it to her to find out what happened. And maybe it isn’t hers, but it’s someone’s, isn’t it? What if he’s already got another victim?”

“We don’t even know if it’s our guy!”

“It’s gonna be contaminated,” you nagged.

“Well, we can’t just leave it here. You know that.”

You placed your dirty hand on the door handle and said, “You’re crazy.”

“We would’ve never found it if I wasn’t.”

He shut your door for you, and then he clambered behind the wheel, placing the blood down beside your coffee cup, which you elected to have no more of. As he started up the engine and remind himself of how many more miles he had to go on the map, you tapped his shoulder. The two of you gazed through the windshield as a little truck with a tow attachment sped past, the first car you’d seen all day. Inside was a pale man, one you didn’t get a good look at, but you saw his dark hair and small eyes, and as he drove by you felt the presence of him like an omen. You remembered how it felt to look at Liane’s cold face, and recognized the feeling as the same. Maybe you were just on edge, but everything about this felt very, very wrong.

“Something’s off about that guy,” Fox scratched his forehead in thought, “Should we follow him?”

“What? No. We’re going to see the medical examiner. Now.”

“Well–”

“Fox, you dragged me into a church and made me put blood into a coffee cup. Drive.”

“You could’ve waited in the car–”

“I said drive!”

#fox mulder #x files #spooky mulder #the x files #fox mulder x reader #fox mulder x you #txf #fox mulder x reader fluff #fox mulder fluff #fox mulder smut #catholiscism #catholic guilt

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customsweaterproducer · 4 months

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customknitfactory · 4 months

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aadmelioraa · 4 years

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Spark (Hild x Iseult, 1.9k)

It had been an extremely long day at the end of an extremely long week—a long term, and a long year, even—and all Hild wanted to do when she got home was finish submitting her final evaluations and then go directly to bed.

But the instant she unlocked her door she knew she was in for an unpleasant evening.

The temperature inside was nearly as cold as the snowy December weather outside. Frost had even begun to form in the corners of the kitchen windows—old windows that the landlord had promised would be replaced months ago.

Hild sighed deeply, her breath creating a faint cloud as she exhaled. The same thing had happened last year right before Christmas. She should have expected it to happen again. It was going to be far too cold for her to concentrate on her work tonight. She really needed to find a new flat before her lease expired.

The radiator in her bedroom was cold to the touch as she turned the dial back and forth to no avail. She sighed again, and in her irritation gave it a solid kick. It didn’t improve the functionality, but it did make her feel slightly better.

Her fingers trembled with cold as she pulled her cellphone out of her coat pocket to call her landlord. They didn’t pick up, of course, so she left a somewhat curt message and made a mental note to phone again in an hour.

Accepting her fate, Hild slipped out of her coat and put on a pullover and cardigan over her turtleneck, then her coziest scarf. She was just struggling to pull her house shoes on over the bulk of two extra pairs of socks when she heard a knock at the door.

Read the rest below or on ao3

Perhaps it was a repairman? Unlikely, but she wasn't expecting anyone else.

She shuffled to the door and opened it to find Iseult, her downstairs neighbor. The neighbor she’d wanted to speak to a dozen times or more, but had not yet got up the courage. The neighbor she’d found herself wondering about on a lonely night more often than she cared to admit.

“I thought I’d find you home,” Iseult said. Fortunately, she did not appear to be clairvoyant.

Hild’s face must have registered some surprise because Iseult smiled slightly as she added, “I may have heard you kick the radiator.”

“Oh—sorry if I disturbed you,” Hild said, flushing a bit at how she’d let her temper get the better of her. Noting that her neighbor was also wrapped in several layers of knitwear she added, “I take it your heat is out as well.”

“It’s the whole building, I think.” Iseult’s voice sounded as irritated as Hild felt.

“Would you like to come in?” Hild offered, and then immediately wondered if that was a stupid question. She had nothing much to offer, particularly without working radiators.

Iseult smiled again, a bit softer this time, but her eyes brightened. “Thank you.”

“We may as well stick it out together, I suppose,” Hild said, knowing that she would not have the evening she had planned no matter what.

She led the way into the kitchen and gestured to the electric kettle on her countertop. “Cocoa? At least we don’t have to rely on the gas for that.”

“Sounds lovely.” Iseult took a seat at the kitchen table, chafing her upper arms for warmth.

“You haven’t lived in this building long, have you?” Hild asked as she set two mugs on the counter and turned the kettle on.

“Only a few months. The start of your school year, I think.”

Hild glanced toward her guest, her mouth twitching into a smile despite her best efforts. She was surprised but pleased to find that she was apparently a person of interest. “Well, clearly you know I’m a teacher. What about yourself?”

“I’m a jewelry maker.” Iseult gestured to the earrings and necklace she was wearing. “I also do tarot readings out of my flat.”

“Ah.” Hild dropped her eyes to her hands and bit her lower lip.

“You do not approve, I know,” Iseult said in a carefree, almost musical tone.

Hild turned back, eyebrows raised. “Oh?”

Iseult huffed a gentle laugh. “It’s not an insult, Hild. I know that you are religious.”

Hild was about to ask how when her gaze fell on the wooden cross hanging above the sink. She turned back to see Iseult’s eyes alight with laughter.

“You’re at church every Sunday, too. I hear you get up earlier that day, and sometimes I see you return in your formal clothing.”

Hild would not have characterized a mid-length wool skirt and a pair of oxfords as formal, but looking at Iseult in her worn, wide-legged corduroy pants and scuffed clogs perhaps they had different standards of formal wear.

“So you’ve been spying on me,” she said, attempting to lighten her tone as she tore the cocoa packets.

Iseult chuckled and pulled her sleeves down around her palms.

“There is only so much to do during the day between appointments. I like to read by the window, so I happen to see everyone coming and going.”

Hild added hot water to the mugs, stirred, and added a bit more. The spoon clinking against the ceramic was the only noise in the room for a moment.

“Thank you.” Iseult’s fingers brushed against hers as she accepted the mug of cocoa. Hild nodded, trying to ignore the fluttering in her chest, and took a seat across from her.

“The heat’s not likely to be fixed today,” Hild informed her in a somewhat apologetic tone, as if it was her fault. “Last winter the same thing happened, and it took an entire weekend to resolve.”

Iseult’s eyes widened and she shivered reflexively. “Goodness, what did you do?” Hild remembered how Uhtred, who had been staying with Sihtric at the time, had come over and not left for…about seventy-two hours, by her calculations. That solution would not do this time around, and it wasn't just because he had a girlfriend.

She cleared her throat. “Just…coped.”

“Well, do you have any tips for coping?” Iseult asked innocently.

Hild took a sip of cocoa, hiding behind her mug temporarily. “Lots of blankets, I suppose.”

“I have a hot water bottle, but I imagine you might have one too.”

Hild shrugged. “Yes. It helps, but…”

“Well, we may as well camp out together, in the meantime. That is…if I’m not overstepping.”

Hild gazed across the table into Iseult’s warm brown eyes and wondered if there was any world in which she would deny her.

“You’re not over stepping at all. But I confess, I may not be very good company tonight. I’m feeling rather crabby, to be perfectly honest.”

Iseult’s smile wrinkled her nose. “Crabby is fine by me.”

Hild’s smile in return felt a bit too broad, but she couldn’t help it. Iseult was charming in every sense of the word. She regretted it had taken her this long, and a minor catastrophe, to spend any time with her.

“It’s warmer in the next room,” Hild offered, rising to her feet. “Better windows in there.”

They made their way to the couch, and Hild gathered every blanket she could find. She even brought her down comforter from the bedroom and offered half to Iseult, who graciously accepted. They were bundled up nicely now, though Hild found herself quite irritated when yet again their landlord ignored her call. Her irritation was tempered by her enjoyment of Iseult’s companionship and the low current of accompanying nervousness.

She flicked on the television, not wanting to leave the burden of conversation entirely on her guest.

Iseult laid her head against the back of the couch, curling slightly on her side so her body faced Hild.

Hild adjusted her posture, and her knee bumped up against Iseult’s leg. She nearly pulled back, but Iseult didn’t move away, so she didn’t either.

Iseult leaned a bit closer after a time, eyes still fixed on the television, but Hild was finding it increasingly difficult to focus on anything other than the woman beside her.

“Is your school term finished?” Iseult’s eyes opened and closed slowly. She seemed to be trying to keep herself awake.

“Yes, I won’t quite know what to do with myself for the next two weeks,” Hild replied.

“What do you normally do between terms?”

“Well, they always need help at the church this time of year. That, and try to rest if I can.”

Iseult cocked her head slightly. “Rest is good.”

“I’m not very good at it, I'm afraid,” Hild felt compelled to admit.

“Like everything, it requires a commitment to practice,” Iseult said softly.

She was sincere, but there was a kind of levity behind her demeanor. Something that made Hild feel a bit more seen than she typically did. Normally that would make her uncomfortable, but with Iseult, it didn’t. It was as if she was standing behind a sheer curtain, waiting to pull it aside and step forward, but in her own timing.

“How would you advise I commit to practicing?” she asked, staring at the television but not watching.

Iseult chuckled and pulled the comforter up around her neck. “This is a good start, here.”

Hild shivered and instinctively moved a bit closer. “I suppose this is God’s way of telling me to take the night off.”

“Does your god speak to you often through the incompetence of your landlord?” Iseult asked.

“Not exclusively, no.”

Iseult’s nose wrinkled in amusement and she leaned a bit closer still.

When she took Hild’s hand under the coverlet, Hild was certain her heart had stopped beating.

Iseult’s eyes were clear and bright as she asked, “Does your god have rules about this?”

“Some men claim he does,” Hild murmured, “but I’m not in the habit of listening to men.”

Iseult’s smile widened as she leaned forward to brush a kiss to Hild’s lips. Hild’s breath caught. She froze, then cupped Iseult’s face gently as she kissed her back.

It was a good kiss—perhaps a little awkward, somewhat tentative at first, but building in feeling almost immediately. A spark had ignited between them—cold flint and steel striking against each other and creating something beautiful that had not existed there before.

Hild’s face grew warm—she was sure she was blushing quite deeply—and the heat spread throughout her body from her core. Her fingers, twined in Iseult’s, were still cold, but that’s not why they were trembling.

“You don’t need much practice at that,” Iseult said coyly, leaning her forehead against Hild’s.

Hild felt a laugh tumble forth, and clasped Iseult’s hands between her own to warm them.

Iseult laughed too, and tucked into her side. Hild wrapped an arm around her and pulled the coverlet tighter.

Half an hour later, they were both asleep. They’d wake in the morning light, still wrapped up in each other, to a missed call from their landlord. The heat would be fixed in time, but they would devote themselves to other pastimes while they waited.

#tlk fic #the last kingdom #tlk #hild x iseult #hild #iseult #hild tlk #iseult tlk #my edits #kat writes #maybe will write part 2 at some point but for now enjoy!

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blustersquall · 6 years

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Only Make Believe // Chapter 29: Honest Truth

It’s a new month, so here’s a new chapter for those reading. The chapter is available on AO3 for those who prefer it there.

Not major tags, this chapter is nsfw though.

December 29th, evening

After leaving Nevena to continue her conversation with Roselyn, Cullen occupied his time with a brisk walk around the deck of the ship. He realised it would probably take him an hour or two, at least, to walk a full circuit, and returned inside to find what options were available to he and Nevena for their one night aboard.

Cullen did not like this setting at all. He’d only travelled by ship a few times and could not recall any of those times being a pleasant or easy experience. While none of his trips resulted in him actually being sick, he knew he was more comfortable on solid ground, rather than with the horizon bobbing up and down in every direction. Inside, it wasn’t so bad. It almost felt normal and sturdy to walk around, but the thought was niggling at the back of his mind that beyond the doors there was just open water.

He tried to focus more on what attractions the ship offered to its guests. In every corner or hallway there was a café or a kiosk serving food and drink. There were small shops selling basic amenities and anything a guest might have forgotten, like toothbrushes, swimming goggles, trashy holiday novels, and inflatable pool toys – which Cullen thought were out of place on a cruise where he and Nevena were probably the youngest people aboard.

Almost all the guests he passed were in their golden years. Older couples walking arm in arm, chatting quietly, or groups of men and women all talking over each other and vying to be heard as they explored. Cullen thought a cruise was something his parents would have enjoyed before they passed away. They always talked about wanting to travel, but never made it beyond the borders of Ferelden. His parents were often like that. Always talking of doing something, but always too afraid to do it, finding excuses where ever they could.

His sister Mia was the same. Last time he spoke to her she talked about wanting to take a holiday to Antiva with her children, but Cullen knew she wouldn’t. She’d stay in Ferelden and if he asked, she’d say it was too expensive, or that she didn’t want to go alone. Sometimes his sister frustrated him, but she was stubborn and nothing he or their other siblings said would change her mind.

On his wandering the ship, he found a few cocktail bars on different decks, a huge event room that was decorated with a gaudy gold and purple colour scheme, complete with streamers and over-sized bows on the backs of chairs. Set up at one end of the room on an elevated platform was space for an on-ship band that looked to be setting up as part of the entertainment.

The restaurants all specialised in different cuisine and were located all together on one deck for ease of access. The one that appealed most to Cullen was a place called The Stoneham. It seemed the least pretentious – which made it a winner in Cullen’s opinion, and was one of the less formal looking of the restaurants. Also, the portion sizes looked reasonable. The pictures in the menus of the other restaurants showed tiny, beautiful delicate plates of food. Probably delicious, but not filling and leaving a meal still hungry seemed to defeat the object.

He sent a text to Nevena to ask her opinion with a quick picture of each menu. She replied that she trusted his judgement. Cullen gave her directions to where The Stoneham was and chose to wait there for her. He stood to one side, giving other patrons plenty of room to come and go. Several groups of older women came by, stopped to look at the menu, and several of the women spent time looking at him. Cullen tried to ignore them, smiling politely if he accidentally caught the eye of one of them, and then looking at his phone to avoid further eye contact, hoping Nevena would turn up soon.

“On your own?” Cullen barely concealed a grimace when he heard the question being put to him, and the older woman’s voice that went with it.

“No,” he put a smile on his face, not wanting to be rude. “Just waiting for—“

“You can sit with us.” The woman nodded to her group of companions. Seven other women stood not five feet away and inching closer. They were all dressed in expensive clothing that reminded Cullen of the clothes Katrin wore when he saw her. The woman speaking to him beckoned them over. “Handsome fella like you shouldn’t be waiting alone. Mr…?”

“Rutherford,” Cullen answered without even thinking about. Immediately he wanted to take it back. “And, thank you – but I am waiting for someone.”

“Rutherford.” The woman said again. Cullen found himself surrounded in a sea of faces and strong perfume in seconds. “First name with that?”

“Uh—” Cullen shifted, feeling increasingly uncomfortable when a hand came to brush against his arm where his sleeve was rolled up to his elbow. “Just, Mr. Rutherford is fine.”

“Oooh! Like Mr. Grey!” One woman laughed, nudging her friend and earning a throaty chuckle in return. “I wonder if he has a toy room too!”

Cullen choked on the strong floral aroma and tried to project his voice to be assertive. “Please, I’m expecting someone in a minute.” He didn’t want to be rude to anyone, the women were harmless – just over eager. He was probably the youngest male guest on the ship.

“Who’re you waiting for? Your wife?” another woman asked.

“No ring.” A third.

“Not married!?” The second gaped and grabbed his left hand to check.

“I’m not yet married, no,” Cullen pulled his hand away, flexing his fingers and burning with embarrassment, “but I am taken.” He added with more conviction. Technically, it wasn’t a lie and it gave him a sense of pride to say so aloud. He’d not really realised it himself until that moment, but he was taken. He had been taken since that first meeting with Nevena. Saying it made it even more real to him. “My—”

One of the women cut him off with a shrill cackle that caused his teeth to clack together when he slammed his mouth closed. Several other women joined in the apparently hilarious joke Cullen missed and he began to look for a method of escape away from the voices and the hands that were touching and tugging his clothing without his consent.

“Cullen?”

His annoyance with the gaggle of women cooled when Nevena’s voice cut through the rising laughter. His eyes found her in seconds. People in the foyer of the restaurant seemed to have parted for her as if moved by some invisible force, and for good reason. She was a vision. Just looking at her, Cullen felt his throat go dry, his heart begin to race, and blood pump faster all in the same instance. He expected her to wear the same dress she wore on Christmas Day, simple and elegant. What she was wearing was something that looked as though it would be more at home in the window of a shop for lingerie and Cullen found he just wanted to take it off her there and then.

The pale ivory colour of the dress complimented the warmth of Nevena’s skin – and Cullen was sure would have looked completely sheer if not for a slip underneath it. There was subtle lace and beading detailed on the front and down to the hem that ended a few inches above her knees. The neckline scooped down exposing Nevena’s collarbone, neck, and shoulders. Her legs were bare and seemed impossibly long due to the flesh coloured heels she wore. A simple ivory coloured cardigan around her shoulders stopped Cullen from seeing if the dress had straps or not. He kind of hoped it had thin straps. The kind of straps he could roll off her shoulders while kissing her beautiful neck while he stood behind her in their cabin. And that her dress was the kind of dress that would just pool around her feet if he did that.

“Nev…” Cullen managed to breathe out.

She smiled, approached and the gaggle of women around him split apart for her. Up close he could see that she had makeup on that accentuated her already stunning eyes. Her hair, too, was different. Still down, and wild in appearance, but somehow stylishly messy.

Nevena placed a delicate hand on Cullen’s forearm and kissed his cheek – a feminine display of dominance and a gesture that Cullen found himself surprised and a little aroused by.

“Who are all these people?” Nevena asked, her tone soft. The group of women who were bothering Cullen moved away as soon as Nevena kissed him. The smell of strong perfume still lingered but he was able to relax now he wasn’t surrounded.

“I don’t know. They just arrived and wouldn’t leave me alone,” Cullen hissed back at her, unable to take his eyes off her while she watched the women a few feet away.

Nevena gave him a teasing smile. “Not enjoying the attention?”

“Ha,” snorted Cullen, “hardly. Besides,” he slipped an arm around her waist and put his lips close to her ear, lowering his voice so only she would hear him, “yours is the only attention worth having.” He felt a distinct shiver from Nevena beside him and noticed the hairs standing up on the exposed skin of her forearms. Her cheeks were pinker now, too. “I like your dress,” Cullen said.

“It likes you back,” Nevena replied without missing a beat, peering up at him with coy, yet somehow erotic innocence. He wondered how, exactly, she managed that. Managed to look at him so suggestively and yet say nothing of the sort… Maker, her dress was just begging to be slid down and off her body-- Catching his thoughts, Cullen cleared his throat, sure his cheeks were turning fire truck red. He scratched the back of his neck, exhaling heavily when Nevena looped her arm through his. “Is this where we’re eating?”

“I-if you approve.” Cullen waited while she perused the menu outside the restaurant for a few moments. “I had a look at the other places, I thought they’d be a bit much. But if—”

“This is fine.” Nevena shook her head, smiling. “There’s plenty here I can eat. Let’s go.” She gave his arm a light tug and he willingly followed her into the restaurant.

Immediately there was a swathe of noise, people talking, low, ambient music, the clatter of cutlery on ceramic. A delicious aroma of herbs and roasting food came from open kitchens where chefs were busy at work. The restaurant itself had a rustic aesthetic, almost like an old-fashioned farmhouse with fake red brick walls, and tiled floors. There were pictures hung on the walls of landscapes and wheat fields, and a few ornaments like horseshoes joined them.

A young man approached them armed with menus and his best smile.

“Table for two?” he asked, cheerfully.

“Please,” Nevena said, equally as cheerful.

“Follow me!” The waiter turned and quickly led them through a series of occupied tables to a section yet to be filled with patrons. The table was tucked away in an alcove, intimately lit by electric candle sconces above. “How’s this?”

“Perfect.”

“Are you sure we won’t be forgotten about here?” asked Cullen, lifting a brow at the location and at the distance it was from the main thoroughfare of tables. “We’re quite out of the way.”

“Don’t you worry. This is my section, I know you’re here. It’ll fill up in a bit.” The waiter put the menus on the table for them and began listing off details of specials, and what the soup of the day was. Only half listening, Cullen pulled out a chair for Nevena and waited for her to sit. As she did, she removed her cardigan to hang off the back of the chair. He noticed for the first time that her dress was backless. Apart from a thin strap across the top of her back, there was nothing. From the nape of her neck to the base of her spine she was naked. It was almost indecent… and utterly unfair. He couldn’t say anything or touch her. It would be inappropriate, and he already felt like a bit of a letch just looking. Cullen bit back a small whine. It was going to be a long evening.

Cullen sat as the waiter finished talking about the menu and excused himself to attend to more patrons walking through the door. He skimmed the first few lines of the menu, glancing over the top of it to see Nevena doing the same. Her eyes scanned the writing, then lifted, meeting his gaze across the table.

“You’re sure you’re alright eating here?” asked Cullen, feeling his face grow warm at being caught staring at her. His hands were sweaty, and he tried to wipe them on his trousers. It was almost comical that, despite spending so much time together, sleeping in the same bed, and being intimate with each other on some level, this was the first time Cullen could honestly say he was nervous.

“Of course,” Nevena put her menu down and reached across the table to take one of his hands. Cullen lowered his own menu. “Stop worrying. We should enjoy ourselves.” She beamed at him, dimples in her cheeks and a wrinkle in her nose.

Cullen felt his mouth slip into a lopsided smile, his heart clenching in his chest. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt,” he laughed.

“Exactly.” Nevena gave his hand a squeeze, “so, let’s relax and enjoy ourselves. See where the evening takes us.”

Choosing not to respond to the potential implications behind her words, Cullen turned his attention back to the menu, and the large variety of options on offer.

The evening progressed organically over a bottle of red wine and tasty food. There were no pauses or awkward silences, and no breaks in conversation as the waiter came and went, checking everything was satisfactory. Cullen found he spent most of his time listening to Nevena and watching her talk about whatever came to mind. She was so animated when she was comfortable and relaxed. When there was no one around to pick at her posture or the topics she chose for conversation.

Cullen was hypnotised by every gesture and every word. He watched the way her lips formed phrases, listened for the lilt in her voice when she laughed, and a sparkle in her eye when she said something mischievous. She was enchanting, and he was utterly enraptured by her. He knew Varric would be too when they met. Varric would adore her, how lively she was, and her open, honest affectionate nature. He began to notice whenever she had the chance, she was touching him. Reaching across the table to hold his hands or touching his cheek. Even when there were plates and glasses in the way, she found a way to at least be able to have one arm resting casually on the table so their fingertips could touch. He was curious if part of the reason for her affection was a need for reassurance or a form of touch starvation, but he didn’t ask.

Whatever the reason, Cullen embraced it. If he was completely honest with himself, it was nice to be with someone who was so openly affectionate and did not shy away from small gestures of intimacy. He struggled with those acts, never knowing if he was overstepping, or when they were appropriate or not. Nevena made up for his own uncertainty, offering reassurance in her search for it.

As the dessert plates were cleared away and a comfortable lull in conversation settled, Cullen noticed a slightly more troubled expression marring Nevena’s features. Immediately he was uneasy, wondering if he had said something or done something to upset her.

“Everything alright?” he asked tentatively. “You look a little perturbed.”

Nevena shook her head, “It’s nothing.” She pushed her chair out and got to her feet, “would you like to take a walk?” She lifted her cardigan off the back of her chair and slipped it on over her arms and shoulders.

“Alright.” Cullen followed suit. Her answer was unsatisfactory and left Cullen’s worry unabated, but he did not want to push. They’d had an enjoyable evening. There was no point in potentially ruining it in the quest for an answer to what might have truly been nothing. And if it was something, he was sure Nevena would tell him in her own time.

When he was within arm’s reach, she looped her arm through his resting her hand in the crook of his elbow. Their attentive waiter bid them a good evening as they left. On leaving the restaurant, Cullen could hear slow jazz music coming from one direction, and from the other sounds of lively chatter and a muffled voice speaking over a microphone. A few other guests were walking to and from evening activities on the ship. They paid no attention to himself and Nevena as they wandered the hallways looking for a door that led out onto the deck.

It was dark and exceptionally cold on the deck. On setting foot outside, Nevena’s hair was blown in one direction, covering her face for a moment. She clutched onto Cullen’s arm with a vice-like grip but seemed determined to at least spend some time outside, despite the chill in the air. Cullen shielded Nevena as best he could from the cold, directing them in a random direction as they began to walk leisurely down the deck promenade. The smell of the sea was overwhelming but not unpleasant. The clear sky gave a breath-taking view of the stars and constellations above them, and a silver half-moon reflecting off the water. Even outside, Cullen could still make out the sound of music over the low hum of the engines of the ship.

They walked in silence for a few minutes, the ease of their dinner conversation now missing and replaced with tension. Of things going unsaid. Cullen felt like Nevena wanted to say something, but either was too nervous or couldn’t find the right words. He noticed her picking at the beads on her dress as she walked and occasionally the grip she had on his arm would increase. He realised she was shivering too, her thin cardigan giving no protection from the cold.

“Hold on,” Cullen brought them to a stop and quickly shed his jacket. He slipped it onto her shoulders without giving her a moment to protest. It swamped her, but she seemed to melt into it. “Better?”

She smiled, looking a little bashful. “Thank you. I’m sorry, I didn’t want to make a fuss. Won’t you be cold?”

“Not as cold as you were.” Cullen took her hand and led her to the ornate metal railings overlooking the edge of the ship. Below he could see the white foam where the bough cut through the water. “Is something wrong?” He asked after a few moments. “You seem… quiet.”

“Thinking,” Nevena said, leaning on the railing. “I’m a little nervous about meeting Mr Tethras tomorrow.” She cleared her hair away from her mouth as the wind whipped it up around her face, “Should I know anything?”

“Don’t call him Mr Tethras,” laughed Cullen. “He hates it. Aside from that, just be yourself. He’s easy going and very relaxed; he’ll love you.”

“Hm,” Nevena nodded once, a brief smile slipping into view before it disappeared. She dropped her gaze to the water below.

Cullen waited again, five seconds, ten, fifteen, hoping she would divulge whatever was on her mind. Behind them, he could hear the slow jazz, moving into a different genre. Something more classical, with strings and woodwind instruments. He realised Nevena was swaying to the tune.

“Do you like dancing?”

She was silent for a beat. “Maybe in the kitchen at home where no one can see me. Not in public. Or on the deck of a ship, before you ask.”

Cullen chuckled, “I’m not much of a dancer myself. I just noticed you were swaying.” He wrapped his fingers around her hand.

“I like the music.”

“Me too.” Cullen stood with her, leaning on the railing and looking out over the black expanse of ocean around them. The ship pushing through the waves was the only other sound, but the music rose above that. Nevena hummed a few bars of the tune her swaying coming to a stop.

They stood in silence, enveloped in the music and the cold air. Cullen continued to wait, sure that Nevena would speak about whatever was on her mind when she was ready. He didn’t mind the chill, even as it started to bite through his shirt and sting his cheeks a little. He would wait as long as she needed him to.

The classical tune inside moved smoothly into a more upbeat song that sounded as though it was from the forties or fifties. Music Cullen knew his parents would have appreciated when they were around. In that time, Nevena moved very little and her expression gave Cullen the impression she was deep in thought. When she did move, it was to get closer to him. She took him by surprise a little when she slipped her arms around his waist and tucked herself against Cullen’s chest, burying her face in his shirt. Cullen slid his hand up under his jacket and her cardigan touching the bare skin of her back, keeping her close and nestling his chin in her hair. Maybe she wouldn’t talk about whatever was on her mind. Maybe it was too raw, or too frightening for her to do just yet. Cullen didn’t mind, and he didn’t push.

“Can I ask you something?” Nevena spoke up after a few minutes.

“Anything.”

“About… the contract.”

“Mhm? What about it?”

“Is… does it still apply? Now?” Nevena’s voice was small, uneasy and Cullen wondered where her line of questioning was going. He shifted enough that he could look at her directly. “It’s… just,” Nevena’s brows scrunched together, “when I was talking to Roselyn, she said that because we’re no longer in Haven, no longer around my family, it’s kind of… void now.” She rubbed her forehead, “and I was wondering if that was how it worked, or…?”

Cullen inhaled deeply, pursing his lips for a moment. He had never thought about any of his contracts becoming void because it had never happened. His previous clients stayed with him in the arranged location for the agreed upon amount of time. There had never been a situation like the one he was in now. As he thought about it, the contract did stipulate specifics like Haven and being around her family. Neither was anywhere near them now and hadn’t been for some time.

“I’ve never really thought about it,” Cullen answered truthfully. “I… suppose, given the circumstances, I would consider it void as we’re no longer in the location or in the scenario described in the document.” He noticed Nevena shiver and ran his hands up and down her arms to try and warm her. “Why do you ask?”

Nevena bit her bottom lip, “I…” She fidgeted nervously, twisting a strand of hair back behind her ear over and over again. “Well, uhm… I wondered,” she scrunched her eyes closed for a moment, nostrils flaring on a deep breath. Cullen’s insides felt heavy, the food he had just consumed like stones inside him. It might have been the cold, but he was certain there was a cold sweat on his face. His heart pulsed in his throat, throbbing behind his ears. “I wondered if… if… I mean, maybe… We, that is, if you want to, we could, uh…” With a groan, she buried her face in her hands, “I am not good at this.”

With his blood pounding and his stomach tightly knotted, Cullen gently pulled her hands away from her face and cupped her jaw, coaxing her to lift her head. He could see her eyes were glassy, as if she was holding back tears, and she swallowed hard on a shuddering breath. Cullen kissed her forehead, exhaling against her skin. “Is it about what I said in the cathedral?” he asked, his voice a little hoarse.

“Mhm-hm,” Nevena nodded.

“What I said about giving this, us, a chance…” He looked her in the eye, “is that what you’re trying to say?”

“Y-yes,” Nevena choked out, nodding again. “I want to. I-if you still do, too.”

“No contract? No arrangement? Nothing?” he clarified, his heart beginning to race. “You want to?”

“I want to,” Nevena said again, with more conviction. “I want to.” A little louder, as if confirming for herself. “I’m tired of second guessing myself.” She blinked, and tears spilled down her cheeks. Cullen quickly wiped them away. “I’m scared, I won’t lie to you about that. I don’t know how this will turn out. And how I feel about you is kind of overwhelming sometimes, but I… I care about you. I’ve never felt like this before and… and you’re so patient, and I don’t want to spend my life wondering what could have been if I don’t take this chance. I’ve spent so long thinking… telling myself and believing that I don’t deserve to be happy. Not after how I ended things with Rick. B-but then, you come along, like a bolt out of the blue and I… I’m… happy when you’re around, and -”

“Nev -”

“- I can’t promise I’ll be easy to deal with.” She carried on hurriedly, wringing her hands. “I’m anxious and can be high strung. Sometimes I lose my temper, and I am chronically messy. I’m not a morning person, I’d live on takeout if I could, I have horrible habits that drive even me crazy. I watch some stupid TV shows, never put my laundry away. I cry at anything and everything from movies to commercials an—”

Cullen cut her off with a sound kiss, swallowing the muffled words and smiling against her lips. Nevena’s arms rose to encircle his neck, fingers twisting into his hair and the collar of his shirt. His jacket slid off her shoulders, landing with a soft ‘whump”’ on the ground. He wrapped his arms tight around her waist, pulling her body to his and leaned back, lifting her off the ground and laughing into her mouth at her soft squeal of surprise. When her feet touched the ground again and Cullen broke the kiss, he saw her cheeks were flushed and she was smiling, almost in disbelief.

“You are…” Cullen began, cupping her face. His mind was vacant of any suitable words or phrases to describe her. I love you, so much, was what he wanted to say, but didn’t. That would probably scare her half to death. Instead, he kissed her forehead, the space between her brows, and her lips again, unable to contain himself. “You are so wonderful,” he said, finally, pressing his forehead to hers.

Nevena giggled nervously, “You’re not so bad yourself.”

Laughing again, Cullen retrieved his jacket and returned it to Nevena’s shoulders, adjusting it. “Shall we go inside? It’s getting colder.”

Walking with Cullen down the hallways of the ship back to their cabin, Nevena felt a mixture of excited and apprehensive anticipation. He tucked her against his side, arm around her waist and the two of them stole glances at each other as they walked, sharing small, secretive smiles – as if trying to conceal from other guests what had just transpired between them. There was no hurry or extra speed in Cullen’s gait, but Nevena was sure she could feel his own eagerness feeding into her own.

She was already second-guessing herself. Had she made the right choice in being honest, and declaring she wanted to give this relationship a real chance? Would it stay the same? Or would the ‘official-ness’ of it change everything? What was going to happen next? Surely the natural progression was that they would sleep together. That, in itself, opened up a whole new box of worries and concerns. It was years since Nevena had been intimate with anyone, and while Rick wasn’t her only sexual experience, it was the one that always came to mind when she considered sex. With him it had never been pleasant, or about her. What if Cullen was the same?

She knew she was being unreasonable, over-thinking. Her mind turning over and over the worst-case scenarios. Like, what if this was what Cullen wanted all along? Maybe once they had sex, he would change and be cold towards her? She was out of practice, so what if she had forgotten how to even have sex? Was that even possible? Could a person forget how to have sex with someone? If it was possible, then it would undoubtedly happen to her.

What about emotionally? Did Cullen feel the way she did? She loved him. At least, she thought she did. But like many things, that was missing from her relationship with Rick, and she couldn’t really admit to loving any of her previous boyfriends. She had been younger, and inexperienced, and those relationships had never lasted long or been particularly serious. Emotional attachments were formed, but never as strong as the way she felt about Cullen…

Was what she felt love? She wasn’t sure. It was a strong feeling, intoxicating, and all-consuming at times, but love? What if it was just lust? What if everything she felt towards him was just a basic, primal instinct that needed to be sated? And once it was, would the things she was feeling simply vanish? She couldn’t do that to him. Couldn’t make love to him, and then have her emotions switch off, leaving them in a weird limbo. She didn’t want to use him or have him feel as though he was being used.

Her mind was turning over and over. She felt light-headed and dizzy as the door to their cabin came into view. Drawing nearer, it seemed to loom ahead, like some ominous, foreboding portal to another dimension. She inhaled sharply, realising she was almost hyperventilating. A quick glance up at Cullen, and the happy expression he’d been wearing was now one of open concern.

How long had she been zoned out for? What had she missed? Why couldn’t she just relax, and not think, for once in her life? Cullen was probably already regretting his excitement and making his initial suggestion back in Redcliffe. Somehow, she always managed to ruin things, and this clearly would be no exception.

A cold dread filled her when his grip around her waist loosened and disappeared entirely. He changed his hold to her hand, lacing their fingers together and giving hers a gentle squeeze while he dug through his trouser pocket for the key to their cabin. Despite his attempt at reassurance, Nevena felt sick and as though the food she had eaten would reappear any moment. Perhaps it was the wine? She wasn’t a big drinker, and between them they had consumed a bottle. She wasn’t drunk by any means, but maybe the alcohol was affecting her.

After unlocking and opening the door, Cullen gestured for her to enter before him. Nevena did, dropping his hand and scooting inside, pausing in the hallway. No lights were on in their cabin. She didn’t want to enter further and move towards the bed. She didn’t want to give Cullen the wrong idea… Would it have been the wrong idea, though? After all, she was attracted to him, and they’d done intimate things before, still under the rules of the contract. Why should now be any different? Only, it was different. Somehow, the contract acted as a safety net. With it, Nevena knew where they stood. While it was in effect, it was a set of rules and guidelines they had mutually agreed to. Now they were putting it aside and there was no more safety net. Just them, and their emotions, and nothing to hold them back.

That was alarming to her. It should have been exciting, but it was a terrifying thought.

“Hey,” Nevena physically started when Cullen spoke and gently brushed his fingers over her shoulder. “Come here.” His fingers trailed down her arm, causing her skin to rise in pinpricks. He hooked his index and middle finger around hers and guided her into the main room of their cabin, turning on one of the low illumination wall lamps as he did. She followed obediently, certain her knees were quaking and that she was shivering again, but this time not from the cold. “Sit, please.” Cullen gestured to the foot of the bed.

There was no tone of command in his voice, no look of impatience. He was calm, spoke softly, and Nevena noticed he was keeping a little bit of distance. A sense of shame slithered down her spine. She felt like the worst person in the world. Always running hot and cold, sending out confusing and mixed up signals.

Apologies stuffed themselves onto her tongue. She sat at the foot of the bed as Cullen requested. His jacket fell off her shoulders, pooling around her and Nevena quickly rubbed her arms, hoping to disguise her trembling as a chill. So many apologies to choose from, how could she pick just one to blurt out?

“Nev,” Cullen knelt before her and guided her hands from her arms, and her arms from their crossed position. He stroked up and down her forearms slowly, eyes on hers – never wavering. “Sweetheart, you need to breathe.”

Nevena’s stomach gave a pleasurable squirm at the use of a nickname. Calling him ‘sweetheart’ and ‘darling’ the day before in the car had been an accident, but it had felt natural to say and to hear herself say. Rick had never given her a nickname or a pet name, or any name that she liked. For something so simple… to hear Cullen say it… the wind would have been knocked right out of her, were she not already practically gasping for air.

“I’m sorry,” Nevena mumbled, dropping her head and tucking her hair behind her ear.

“Why?” asked Cullen, inching closer and guiding her hands to his chest so she could feel his inhales and exhales. Nevena closed her eyes to concentrate on the sensation, leaving them in silence for a few minutes while she regained her composure.

“We had such a lovely evening and now I… I’m just… I’m ruining everything.” Nevena said once she was breathing more steadily. “I… I’m sorry, I want to be—”

“What are you ruining?” Still holding her hands, Cullen brought her arms up so they draped around his shoulders. Shifting closer still, so her knees were touching his chest, his own arms came to rest on the covers of the bed either side of her. “You’re not ruining anything.” When he lifted his head, Nevena dropped hers instinctively, grateful to feel his lips brushing her forehead.

He gave her reassurance without her asking for it. The maelstrom of nerves inside her calmed a little.

“I’m just… over-thinking. Everything.” She admitted, biting her lip. “Now we agreed the contract is void, I guess I’m floundering a little? I don’t know what to expect... What you expect.” Leaning away, Nevena noticed Cullen staring at her, a quizzical look on his face. She held his gaze for a few moments, before darting her eyes down to her lap.

“Did you think we would get back here and I would ravish you, or something?” Cullen inquired, his lips breaking out into a grin. Nevena said nothing, wishing the bed would open and swallow her. It did sound ridiculous, now he said it. Cullen failed to conceal a chuckle, which only served to make her feel even more foolish. “You have the wildest imagination,” he stated, tapping her chin and guiding her to lift her head and look at him. “We’re not going to do anything unless we both agree to it. And if that means going to bed and doing nothing, then that isn’t an issue for me.” He inclined towards her, and kissed the space between her brows, “I’m in no rush, Nevena.” She heard his knees creak a little when he rose higher up on them to be more level with her and pressed his forehead to hers, nuzzling her skin. “One day at a time. One hour at a time, if that’s what it takes for you to be comfortable and happy.”

Nevena chuckled, closing her eyes and sliding her hands over his shoulders to curl her fingers underneath the collar of his wine-red shirt. She traced the fold, feeling foolish for getting so worked up, and grateful that Cullen already understood that quirk of hers. It wasn’t something she would need to explain all the time. He knew about and accepted it, which gave her a sense of relief and more importantly, they could work on it, together.

“So…” Nevena murmured, opening her eyes.

“So.” Cullen did the same, creating some space between their faces so they could look at each other.

“What now?”

“Well,” exhaling heavily, Cullen bobbed his head from side-to-side as if thinking, “first, I really must ask: may I kiss you? I’ve been wanting to since I saw you in this,” he picked at one of the beads on her dress, “but I didn’t want to create a scene.” He plucked a few more of the beads in his fingers, “This dress really is criminally indecent.”

Nevena giggled, resting her forehead on his shoulder for a moment as she laughed. “It’s quite risqué for my wardrobe, I know. Roselyn made me buy it… She packed it too, actually.” She lifted her head and brushed her left hand back through his hair. “And convinced me to wear it.”

“Remind me to thank Roselyn,” chuckled Cullen. “And it’s very risqué, but I like it on you. You wear ‘criminally indecent’ well.” He placed a light peck on the end of her nose. “So, may I?”

Tilting her head, first to the left and then the right, Nevena hummed and pursed her lips, pretending to consider his request. “I suppose so,” she said, finally with an exaggerated sigh and roll of her shoulders. “If you must.”

“Oh,” Cullen’s mouth slipped into a slight smirk, “I must. I absolutely must.”

His lips meeting hers muffled her laughter, and she felt him smiling into the kiss. His lips were warm, soft, and gentle on her own, the kiss careful and measured. He didn’t want to overwhelm her – and she adored him all the more for that. He would never ask for more than she was willing to give, and the same could be said for her. Nevena slid her hands along his shoulders again, then up, one into his hair, the other cradling the back of his neck. Her body was already reacting to him kissing her - her skin tingled pleasantly and with every second that passed her stomach twisted itself tighter and tighter. His hands at her sides roamed upwards to her shoulders. He eased the fabric of her thin cardigan off her shoulders and down her arms, pulling the sleeves off her hands. Then they were lower, skimming a few inches beyond the hem of her dress to stroke her bare thighs. Without thinking about it, she parted her legs, allowing Cullen closer as he slotted between them from his position kneeling on the floor.

Cullen broke away leaving only a few inches between them. Nevena could still feel his breath – coming more quickly – landing on her lips. When she opened her eyes, she took in the features of his face, drawing her thumb over the swell of his lower lip. She noticed they were slightly redder than before, and his perfect mouth drew into an equally perfect smile. His cheeks were slightly pinker. The honey-brown of his eyes had darkened, and his pupils were wide as he regarded her as closely as she did him.

“What’re you looking at?” asked Cullen, his voice slightly hoarse and strained, as though he was struggling to keep it in a lower register.

“Just you,” Nevena replied, smiling.

“And?” he tilted his head to one side. His nose brushed hers. Another inch or so, and his mouth would be on hers again.

“And…” Nevena rolled one shoulder into a shrug. She slipped her fingers through his hair, nails dragging gently down the back of his neck. Cullen’s eyelids flickered closed for a moment, and she heard a deep, guttural sound arise from his throat. She laughed at the noise and the brief look of embarrassment that flittered across Cullen’s face. “Cullen, I…”

His eyes locked on hers and it was like time stopped for a few seconds. Whatever she felt, she couldn’t tell him. Not yet, not now. They had only just agreed to give their relationship and chance without the contract binding them together. Now was not the time to tell him she thought she was in love with him – it would only scare him off. Scare him, as much as it scared her. She swallowed the words as though she was swallowing stone, a heavy feeling settling in her belly. Instead of finishing her words, she darted her head forward, capturing his mouth.

This kiss was harder. Cullen groaned a little when she curled her fingers into his hair and tugged him closer, urged the kiss deeper. The mattress on either side of her shifted with Cullen adjusting his weight. He was moving, getting to his feet to be nearer. Nevena could feel herself leaning back and pulling him with her, willingly giving into the more primal and base desires she had been feeling for him for days and trying to suppress. His hands were on her thighs again, fingers inching up under the edge of her dress, hitching it further up. He pressed his nails into her flesh, dragging them down towards her knees and making her shudder. Nevena opened her mouth to moan, and Cullen took full advantage, his tongue pushing past her lips.

The rough, velvety texture was pleasurable. She reciprocated every movement, winding her tongue around his, nipping at his lips, relishing every sloppy and wanton sound of their lips parting, breaths catching, and the different growls and moans they made. Cullen’s hands moved lower, trailing down over her thighs to her knees. He paused there with his left hand, his right carried on down, fingers ghosting over the back of her calf and coaxing her to bend and lift her leg until he had her foot in hand. Nevena quivered, the hairs on her arms standing straight. She strained her body to remain upright, clenching muscles in her torso and trying to follow when Cullen brought a premature end to their kiss.

He smiled dropping to his knees in front of her again. She watched, curious and trying to focus past the haze of want in her mind and the pulsing between her legs as he released her left leg and changed so he held her right leg elevated in that hand. His right hand now free, he delicately removed her heel, putting it to one side and kissed her shin. Cullen’s eyes were up, his gaze fixed on hers and never faltering. Somehow, it made everything feel more intense, and intimate. Watching him watching her as he dragged his lips up her shin, trickling his fingers up the back of her calf, and pressed another kiss to her knee.

Her cheeks grew hotter as he repeated the gesture with her left leg. Removing her shoe, gently kissing her ankle, dragging his lips up and kissing her knee, his fingers following the contours of her muscle and bone. Cullen’s breath brushed her flesh, his lips warm and distracting. She had never seen or experienced anything quite so intensely sexy or reverent. It was as though he was a pilgrim, worshipping at a shrine and she felt undeserving of such softness and adoration.

“I love your legs,” Cullen murmured, closing his eyes and kissing her knee again.

Nevena couldn’t help the nervous laugh that bubble out of her, half from embarrassment, and half from the tickling sensation of his fingers. “T-thank you.”

“I think I’d love every inch of you,” he continued, drawing his fingers up her thighs and perching his knees on the edge of the bed.

“You haven’t seen every inch of me…” countered Nevena, uncertain quite where her boldness was coming from.

“True…” Cullen tilted his head to one side. His hands came to rest on either side of her again and he leaned over her, causing her to arch her head back. His mouth hovered over hers, painfully just out of kissing distance, “I am very eager to see every inch, though,” he brushed the end of his nose against hers, back and forth, “if you’ll permit me.” He lifted one hand to her face, cupping the back of her neck, his thumb pressing into the hollow under her jaw. Nevena was certain he could feel her pulse racing.

She licked her lips, considering her reply. Cullen’s eyes darted to her mouth and his eyes seemed to darken even further. “Let’s see where tonight takes us, hm?” She shifted her head to one side, shaking her hair away from her shoulders exposing her neck and collar to him. His nostrils flared. “You may be surprised to learn that I’m very eager to see every inch of you, too.”

Lowering his head, Nevena felt his lips graze her throat, kissing the curve of her neck and shoulder. “That’s a different thought process to earlier, Miss. Trevelyan,” Cullen murmured. “Are you sure you’re not just playing coy with me?”

Biting the corner of her lip, she swallowed thickly and tried to suppress the shudder that rippled over her body like lightning as he laid further kisses to her neck. “Mr. Rutherford, you should know there’s a difference between being naked with each other and having sex. The two aren’t mutually exclusive.”

Cullen laughed, the sound seeming to vibrate into Nevena’s skin and right through her to her toes. “Good point.” More kisses followed the angle of her collar bone, and then he followed the length of her neck up with his tongue, before claiming her mouth once more. Nevena greeted him with enthusiasm, putting her weight back onto one hand and using her free one to cradle the back of his head, urging him closer. Once more, his tongue was past her lips, sounds of heaving breaths and low moans filling the heavy air of the cabin each time their lips met, parted, and met again.

A flicker of boldness that had ignited in Nevena grew with each passing moment. Her instinct was to wrap her legs around him, to have him inside her, moving in tandem, sweating and moaning and moving until neither of them could think. She wanted to. The warmth between her legs was now an insistent heat. Arousal chased away all her more sensible thoughts – spurred on by the denial she had been imposing on herself. Clutching that small spark, Nevena trailed her free hand down, over Cullen’s shoulder, over the front of his shirt, following the line of buttons, and lower. She found the buckle on his belt and paused there, waiting to see if Cullen would object. When he didn’t – his kisses growing in their heat instead, as if to will her to continue – she allowed herself to venture lower.

She found his cock easily enough, hard and heavy contained within his trousers. She wrapped her hand over him, stroking through the fabric. Cullen groaned after only a few seconds and pulled away. He pressed his forehead to hers, gasping quick breaths and opening his eyes to look at her. She met his gaze, her own breathing growing harder. The sheer, primal need she saw in his eyes made her chest tighten. She squeezed him, his eyes flew closed, and he groaned her name.

“Nev,” he kissed her again, briefly, and nuzzled her forehead.

“Sit down,” Nevena said, keeping her voice low. The bold spark was growing into a flame with every approving sound that tumbled from Cullen’s lips, “Please.” He did, sitting heavily beside her. Immediately, Nevena swapped places, moving to kneel between his legs. As she began to unbuckle his belt Cullen placed his hands over hers.

“You don’t have to do this,” he told her, a firm severity to his words and expression – though made slightly less convincing by the flush to his face. “I don’t expect anything. I meant what I said.”

“I know,” Nevena smiled, “but I want to… Unless,” she tilted her head to one side, a thought popping into her head that she hadn’t considered before, “do you not want me to?”

Cullen’s eyes widened slightly, “No, no. Nothing like that.” He exhaled and ran a hand through his hair, “I suppose I… I wasn’t expecting… I… don’t want you to feel like to have to… Does that make sense?”

“I don’t feel like that,” explained Nevena, resting her chin on his thigh, “This is my choice. You haven’t asked me or coerced me. I want to do this for you because... well, because. There doesn’t have to be a convoluted reason, does there?”

“I suppose not…” Cullen looked almost sheepish.

Rising on her knees to try and reach him, Nevena kissed him when he met her halfway, caressing the side of his face attempting to reassure him. “Then help me with this and relax.” She coaxed, smiling against his lips. She heard him swallow thickly, but he nodded and assisted in undoing his belt and trousers. He pulled his boxer-briefs down with his trousers, exposing himself to the air.

Nevena took his cock in hand, gingerly stroking him a few times. He was hard, fully erect, the smooth, rounded head of his cock a deep red colour and his shaft seemed to throb in her hand. Pre-cum was already leaking from the tip, sliding down the length of him into the coarse darker blond hair around the base making him slick and allowing Nevena’s hand to move up and down easily.

Aware of Cullen’s eyes on her, Nevena pumped his length several times, growing accustomed to the weight and girth. Lifting her gaze to his, clutching the flame of boldness still inside her, Nevena stared at him unwavering as she opened her mouth and dragged her tongue up the full length of him from base to tip. Cullen’s eyes widened again and appeared to flash. The taste of is pre-cum – salty and a little sharp - lingered on Nevena’s tongue as she repeated the motion, dragging her mouth up and down his cock, suckling with her lips without taking him into her mouth completely. His breathing hitched each time she drew her tongue near the head of his cock. He flexed his hands in the sheets of the bed covers, clenching and unclenching them.

She continued to stroke him steadily, rotating her hand a little on every up-and-down motion. Still watching him, she circled the tip of her tongue over the swollen, reddened crown of his cock. Cullen’s reaction was instant, a sharp inhale, eyes flying shut.

“N-Nev,” he fisted his hands into the sheets again and his legs bucked a little on either side of her.

She circled him a few more times with her tongue, the taste of him one she was now more accustomed to. As she paused her stroking, she gently took him in, closing her lips around his girth. Cullen let out a low moan, his nostrils flaring. Hollowing her cheeks, she sucked, bobbing her head as she worked him. She held his cock in one hand for ease, the other she used to tuck her hair behind her ear. More groans, broken with quick inhales came from Cullen. He had his head back when Nevena looked at him again, and she could see his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat whenever he gasped or swallowed. A sight which only encouraged her.

She bobbed her head, opening her mouth at times, and curling her tongue at others, trying to gauge from Cullen’s expression and his voice what brought him more enjoyment. She held him around the base of his cock and could feel it throb at random intervals. Cullen squeezed her shoulder and pulled her hair to one side when a few strands got stuck to the saliva coating him. He held her hair in a loose fist that did little to impact her.

To give her mouth a rest, Nevena began to stroke him again with her hand, slowly, squeezing for a little added pressure. She kept her lips close to his length, breathing hard so every exhale landed on Cullen’s sensitive flesh. His cock twitched. Nevena circled the extra sensitive spot she discovered in Redcliffe causing Cullen’s hips jerked forward.

“Fuck…”

“Are you okay?” Nevena asked, leaning back a little to get a better look at Cullen, while she continued to slide her hand up-and-down his length.

“Mhm-hm…” He nodded, his eyes squeezed closed.

“Anything you’d like me to do specifically?”

Cullen shook his head, “n-no… just… carry on as you are…” He leaned his head back as Nevena slowly drew him back between her lips and into her mouth. “—feelssogood—“ she heard him groan, which only added more fuel to the flame that started this.

She saw him open his eyes to watch her, an expression of intense focus on his face, as if he was trying to force his eyes to remain open and take in every detail of this experience. Nevena smiled up at him around his cock in her mouth and with her free hand, reached between his legs to take his balls in hand. Cullen seemed to whimper, biting his teeth into his lower lip, flaring his nostrils, and muttering some other blasphemous praise to the Maker. Nevena worked them between her fingers, cupping and squeezing gently, applying brief amounts of pressure and releasing. Each gesture, each lap of her tongue or angle of her head brought a different sound. A deep guttural groan at times, a sharp intake of breath at others. Nevena heard her name moaned openly and low. Cullen encouraged her with every sound he made and every breath he stole.

“Maker’s breath,” Cullen whined above her. Nevena watched him lift one hand to rub over his face. He released her hair and loosened two buttons at the top of his shirt. Once he had done that, he reached forward with that same hand, spreading his fingers over her bare back and dragging upwards. Nevena shivered, shifting closer to him on her knees.

Closing her mouth around him more tightly, Nevena began to suck in earnest, squeezing him on all sides with her cheeks and her tongue. She held his cock steady with her left hand, wiggling her head a little each time to take him deeper into her mouth. Her saliva coated his shaft, and what she couldn’t take, she stroked. Bobbing her head up and down steadily, she swirled and wrapped her tongue around him, focusing her energies on the sensitive crown. She swallowed, tightening her cheeks around him, and moaned, the low sound reverberating in her throat.

She slurped nosily on each up stroke, saliva dripping from her chin. Cullen didn’t seem to notice, or if he did he didn’t care. He was still fighting to keep his eyes open, to watch her pleasure him but was failing. Each time she licked him or moved her tongue he groaned and Nevena admitted to herself it was one of the sexiest things she’d ever heard. To know he was enjoying himself, that he was so full of unbridled pleasure that he was losing control of his volume – and it was because of her.

Sliding his cock from her mouth to give her jaw a break, she pumped him, her spit leaving a trail to her lips. Nevena quickly wiped her chin, reeling back a little when Cullen lurched forward. He slipped his hands around her face to tilt her head up and kissed her soundly, lips fitting over hers. He breathed hard, puffing and panting against her mouth while drawing his thumbs over her cheeks. His brow was sweaty and could taste the salt from his lips.

“Wonderful as this is,” he said breathing hard and his brow furrowing, “if you k-keep going it’s going to get messy.”

“Isn’t that the idea?” Nevena asked, tilting her head to one side. “You do want to cum, don’t you?”

“Maker, yes!” Cullen groaned, “B-but—”

Nevena watched him, watched the hesitation. “But…?”

If possible, Cullen’s cheeks grew darker. “I would… rather not come on you… or in your mouth. It… doesn’t sit right, with me.” She saw the embarrassment as he avoided her gaze and lifted a hand to rub the back of his neck. Cute as it was, now wasn’t the time to lovingly tease him about it.

“Okay then,” Nevena nodded and cupped his face with one hand. “What would you prefer?”

There was a flash of relief mixed with surprise in Cullen’s expression, and he visibly relaxed. “Come and sit.” Cullen gestured to the space beside him. Nevena did as asked, sitting and waiting for him to be comfortable. When he kissed her, she found herself giggling and teasing a hand up, through his hair to where she could wind strands around her fingers. The back of his neck was sweaty, and she could feel warmth radiating off his cheeks.

Cullen took her free hand in his, guiding her to close her fingers around him and stroke his cock again while he set the pace this time, pumping with his hand on hers. When the kiss broke, Cullen’s breath quaked when he breathed, and he pressed his forehead to Nevena’s, his eyes closed, and his brow furrowed as if in deep thought. She watched him, fascinated by the shifting of his expression and the noises that broke past his lips, unbidden.

Cullen leaned on one hand, his face contorting into an expression that looked as though he was verging on pain. His breathing was sharp, and he moaned, burying his face into the curve of Nevena’s neck and kissing her there. He removed his hand from Nevena’s leaving her to set the pace. That hand came and curled back behind her neck, fingers curling into her hair as if she was tethering him to the world. Nevena watched his cock with hungry interest that was like a lead weight in her stomach. In her fingers, she could feel his shaft twitching. Liquid leaked from the head, slipping down the length and onto her hand. Cullen kissed her brief, and hard, sweeping her hair all over one shoulder again. His eyes were open when he pulled away, his gaze intent on her. He moaned low in his throat, his hips jerking, his chest rising and falling erratically.

“N-Nev,” he grunted, “N-Nev, ohfuck, Nevena—”

In a rush, Cullen’s hips bucked, and his cock throbbed in Nevena’s hand. She slowed her strokes, feeling hot, thick and sticky liquid start to coat her hand and Cullen’s shaft. Beside her Cullen moaned, his lips brushing over her nose and her cheeks. More of his seed leaked from the head of his cock and Nevena could smell the somewhat chemical scent of it when she inhaled. Stroking a few more times for good measure Nevena removed her hand, glancing around for tissues or a cloth to clean up with.

Before she could move, Cullen was kissing her again. Fingers gently touching her jaw and her neck, his lips trembling under hers. His caresses were soft and random – as though he wasn’t sure what to do with his hands now the moment had passed.

Nevena was hit with the thought that this was just another clear difference between Cullen and Rick. When doing anything with Rick, he was forceful and once he was satisfied – that was it. There was none of what Cullen was doing. None of the touching, the kissing, the reassurance, and the intimacy. Where Rick used to grab and pull her hair or force himself into her mouth, Cullen was practically a gentleman about it, clearing her hair away from her neck and her mouth, teasing his fingers through it. With Rick, anything sexual was difficult and Nevena hated it, dreaded it. Rick’s forceful natural often left her feeling as though she was choking, and her throat and mouth sore. Cullen had seemed content to let her be in charge. To set the pace, and do what worked for her, and communicating when he felt the need to do so.

She brushed her nose against his, affection welling up in her chest as Cullen gazed at her with an almost drunk expression on his flushed face.

“Let me go clean up,” she murmured, kissing him.

“Okay…”

She got to her feet, went to the bathroom and washed her hands thoroughly. She took a moment to tidy her hair and rinse her mouth out. When she returned, Cullen was flat on his back, his breathing more even, and his trousers pulled up to conceal himself but still undone. She stood in the threshold of the hallway, towel in hand, smiling at the sight of him, recovering and probably trying to make sense of what just happened.

Cullen saw her, lifted his right hand and crooked a finger at her, beckoning her to him. She went to him willingly, climbed onto the bed beside him, and deposited the towel haphazardly in his lap. Cullen drew her towards him, lifting his head to kiss her, sighing and moaning softly when she gently ran her fingernails over his scalp.

Cullen wrapped her up in his arms, and Nevena snuggled against him. She kissed his jaw, his neck, winding his sweat curled hair around her fingers. She felt him drawing his fingertips up and down her bare back. Every-so-often, his lips brushed her forehead and after a few minutes, his breathing was slow and steady.

“So…” Cullen mumbled, “that was…”

“Yep.” Nevena smiled against his neck. “That was…”

“Something,” they said in unison. Cullen turned his head to look at her, before they both broke out into laughter. He covered his eyes with his hand, his laughter rumbling within his chest. Nevena muffled her own giggles against his shoulder.

“Are you okay?” she asked him, leaning up on an elbow and trailing her hand down his face. “I know that was a little unexpected…”

“That might be the understatement of the century” Cullen chuckled, “but I’m fine. Better than fine.” He laughed again.

Nevena smiled softly down at him, “Good.”

Cullen tapped her nose. “I’m going to have to repay you now, you realise that, don’t you?”

Before Nevena could reply, Cullen had rolled over to be on top of her, nudging a knee between her legs. He smiled down at her as she laughed, tucking stray strands of hair behind her ears and peppering little kisses over her face.

“Uhm,” in the wake of her success, it seemed Nevena’s boldness had fled too, and she found herself biting her bottom lip. “Before… anything further happens…”

“Hm?”

“I’m going to be that person and ask, did you, by any chance take any of the condoms from the Regency room at Haven?” She flushed deeply but did not look away from Cullen’s eyes.

“…No,” he said, his lips quirking down at the corner. He pushed his through his hair and breathed out hard. “But, good thinking. Should I go and get some? N-not to use tonight, but for the future, maybe? I’m sure there are places to buy them on the ship – even if most of the other people on the cruise would probably break a hip if they— “

“You’re babbling.”

“Sorry,” Cullen bowed his head in a moment of defeat. When he looked at her again, his expression was more assured. “If we get them now, then it saves having to worry in future.”

“Might be a good idea,” agreed Nevena.

Cullen climbed off her and fastened his belt. He put the towel Nevena had collected from the bathroom on the desk, turned and quickly pecked her on the lips. “I won’t be long. Don’t move a muscle.” Another kiss, he grabbed the room key from the table and was gone in seconds.

Nevena waited a moment before getting to her feet and moving hurriedly around the cabin, as if doing so would work off the excess energy now buzzing around her body. She stopped after about thirty seconds and stared at the door. “I can’t believe I did that.” She said to herself. To be as brazen and to have that confidence was an unfamiliar feeling for her. She had liked it. She wished she could be more confident like that all the time, but she would take it when it happened. Perhaps she just needed to listen to her instincts more often, rather than doubting herself all the time. Maybe that was the key to being successful and happy – such a simple answer.

She went to the bathroom and rinsed her mouth out a second time, the taste of Cullen still lingering on her tongue. After that, she put her shoes together at the foot of the bed and tidied the sheets and pillows. She changed too, slipping out of her dress and into her sushi pyjamas for comfort.

As she climbed back onto the bed she shifted position several times, trying to get comfortable. She leaned up against the pillows and threw several on the floor when she became uncomfortable, only to pick them back up again two minutes later. She tidied her belongings on the desk, turned the lights lower. She lay back down on her front, then on her back. She checked the time on her phone, trying to gauge how long Cullen had been gone.

On her side, on her front again. On her back with her head dangling off the end of the bed – which made her feel woozy after about thirty seconds. Eventually, she settled for lying on her side, facing the direction of the door, her head perched on her hand. She waited.

There was no telling what the time was when Nevena slowly opened her eyes. The cabin was dark, and there was a bulk of warmth cocooned around her. It took her a few seconds to realise she had fallen asleep while waiting for Cullen and that thought jerked her awake in his arms. He grunted, awoken by her sudden movement.

“Nev?” Cullen mumbled, lips pressing to her bare shoulder, “what’s wrong?”

“I fell asleep,” stated Nevena, rolling over to face him. “When you were gone. I’m sorry – I didn’t mean—”

“Shhh,” Cullen ran his fingers through her hair, and brushed the end of his nose against hers, “it’s okay. Don’t worry about it.” He said, tired and suppressing a yawn. “I was tired, too.”

“Are you mad?” Nevena asked, almost fearful that he would say he was.

“Not at all,” Cullen voice sounded like he was smiling. “I’m only sorry I didn’t get to repay you, after what you did for me.”

Nevena swallowed, “Oh…”

“Come on,” Cullen tucked her closer to him, tilting his head up to rest on top of her hair, “go back to sleep.”

“What’s the time?”

“Late… Or early, depending on how you look at it. At least three in the morning.”

“We’ll be docking in Kirkwall soon.”

“Mhm-hm,” sighed Cullen. He wound his fingers down her back, creating random shapes. “Get some sleep.”

Nevena exhaled, trying to relax and settle back into the depth of the mattress and the warmth of Cullen’s body. Within a few minutes, he was snoring softly, sound asleep and dead to the world. She closed her eyes, ready to join him.

Gods, I'm actually quite nervous about this chapter (I'm nervous about every chapter I upload, to be honest) but this one... definitely has me a bit more worried than most. This one has been through a couple of rewrites and serious edits because there were aspects about the first few drafts that were so out of character and didn't fit. This iteration of the chapter seems... more in keeping with the characters and where their relationship is. I'm sure there some of you going: HOLY CRAP, FINALLY. And some of you going: THAT'S IT? WE WAITED ALL THAT TIME AND THAT'S ALL WE GET?!

If you're disappointed they didn't immediately go and do the do, I apologize, but there is a lot of fic left (like... a fair few chapters) so there's time for them to move along onto *other* things. Even if you are disappointed in this chapter, I hope you'll stick around for the rest of the fic.

What do you guys think? Were you rooting for Nevena when she finally confirmed to Cullen what she wanted? Do you think they should have done anything sexual or waited? Were you expecting this conversation and the aftermath to go differently? Or does it fit what you had in mind? How do you think this development will effect things once they're in Kirkwall? Do you think Nevena should have stayed awake so they could have done more? Let me know in the comments and I'll reply to you ... before the next chapter is up. >.>

Before I forget, I want to plug @eisschirmchen on tumblr who did a series of adorable drawings of Cullen and Nevena in their outfits for this chapter. Link is below, go and show her some love. <3 http://eisschirmchen.tumblr.com/post/177312374879/finally-got-to-draw-fanarts-to-blustersqualls

Thank you again for joining me on this long fic and sticking with it. I appreciate your patience and the comments. As always, let me know what you think, and I'll see you with the next chapter soon. <3

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betsjuggiecooperjones · 7 years

Note

Betty gets detention and juggie is there. They spend heaps of time together and end up getting together

this is AU where the Blue and Gold doesn’t exist and Betty looked into the murders alone, she and Jughead hadn’t started dating yet and Jughead and Archie have not become friends again. Set around the time of F.P.’s arrest.

“ELIZABETH COOPER!”

Betty shuddered, feeling the wall at her back reverberate at the volume of her mother’s shouts for her. She stood from her perch on the window ledge. She had been waiting for this moment for the hour between her entry to the Cooper residence and her mother’s. Her fingernails bit into the scarred skin of her palms as she mentally prepared herself to face the rage of her mother, the formidable Alice Cooper.

Detention. The word followed her like the stench of a skunk through the halls of Riverdale High. The perfect Betty Cooper had detention. Word traveled fast in a town as small as Riverdale. Another Cooper girl fallen from grace in the eyes of their mother and the community that had been waiting for the fall of the picture perfect Coopers ever since the rise of Alice out of the trailer park on the Southside.

Betty tightened her honey blonde ponytail high on her head as she walked through the halls of Riverdale High, feeling the sting of the whispers of her classmates buzzing in her ears as she passed.

Perfect. The word had haunted Betty since the day she was born. Perfect skin, perfect clothes, perfect attendance, perfect grades, perfect family. That’s all anyone saw of Betty Cooper, they didn’t see the fire, the dark side. The side that yelled at principal’s and dug around crime scenes. No one truly knew Betty Cooper, not even herself.

She entered the detention room, prepared for the knife-wielding trouble makers that she had seen in detention in movies. Instead she was met with only one face. Jughead Jones.

Jughead had been ignoring her since the summer. She wasn’t sure why, probably trying to make it so she didn’t have to decide in his fight with Archie. Little did he know, she would have chosen him. After her girlhood crush on Archie had faded that fall, she had missed Jughead with everything that she had. Archie was a good friend, but he had always been chasing skirts and music, but with Jughead, Betty had always been at peace. She had always known that his mind wasn’t far from his body the way that Archie’s was when the hung out.

But the beanie-clad boy had made the decision for her. He hadn’t answered any of her texts or calls for months. Betty desperately missed Jughead, but he had made it very clear that he had not missed her. Betty sat in a chair at the front right corner of the room, so that she wouldn’t intrude on Jughead’s space in the back left corner.

The room was silent for several minutes, Betty fidgeted with the edge of her soft pink cardigan, the only sounds in the room were the ticking of the clock and Jughead softly flicking the pages of his well worn copy of To Kill a Mockingbird. Eventually it was Jughead who broke the silence, peeling his piercing blue eyes from his book to bore holes in the back of Betty’s head.

“Thank you” he said, so softly Betty was unsure that he had said anything. She turned to face him, green eyes meeting blue.

“Thank you.” he said, a little louder this time.

“For what?” Betty was genuinely perplexed that her former friend was thanking her.

“For trying to talk to Sheriff Keller about my dad’s innocence, he told me. And for trying to talk to Weatherbee about my transfer and my safety. I don’t know why you cared, but thank you.”

“Juggie. You’re my friend and I care about you, whether or not you feel the same. Plus I’ve been on a bit of a truth and justice kick lately.” she chuckles falsely, staring at her pink Keds as she scuffed them across the floor.

Jughead stood abruptly, Betty continued to stare at her scuffed shoes as he moved to the seat next to her.

“Betty. I’m sorry.”

She could feel the tears burning behind her eyes. She had been waiting to hear those words for months, but she didn’t know if they meant he was coming back. She missed her best friend.

“I’m sorry, “ he continued, “for leaving you behind with your mother, for not letting you in when I know you would’ve been there, for not letting you be around because I was mad at Archie. I miss you Betty Cooper. I was stupid and I’m sorry. Now my dad is in jail and you’re saving my ass even though I was so awful to you”

Betty looked at Jughead, tears beginning to seep through as she noticed the tears brimming in his eyes too.

“Your dad is innocent, you know that right?”

“Yeah” he brushed the tears away with the sleeve of his flannel.

“Where are you going to live?” Betty asked, genuine concern wrinkling in her face

“Bets, I haven’t lived with him for months.”

“Where have you been living?” Betty’s brow furrowed further in confusion

“Here and there, ya know?” he smiled weakly at her

“Jug, why didn’t you tell me?” her hand gravitated to his shoulder to gently rub it.

“You have enough on your plate.”

Betty pulled Jughead nearly off of his chair into a hug

“I’m your FRIEND, I’m here for you Jug” she whispered into the soft shoulder of his blue flannel. They pulled apart as the previously absent teacher clacked into the room in her too small heels

“You’re free to go for tonight.” the teacher said, voice dropping out of sheer boredom, clearly wishing she could be anywhere else. They stood up, collecting their bags from the floor.

“Where are you going to sleep tonight?” Betty asked, the light snow kissing her face as they walked home.

“Dad’s trailer. Social Services doesn’t know yet that mom left.” Bety’s heart dropped into her stomach, Jughead may have a cold, uncaring exterior, but she knew that it had hurt him when his mother left with Jellybean. Fate was cruel, putting such a smart kind guy in such desperate circumstances at such a young age.

They hugged goodbye, a plan hatching in Betty’s head.

They next day when they arrived in detention, Betty pulled Tupperware container after Tupperware container out of a bag she had lugged to school. Each was filled with part of a large homecooked meal, the likes of which she knew Jughead hadn’t seen since the end of his friendship with Archie. She placed them on desks around Jughead, seeing his eyes widen.

“I figured you probably hadn’t been eating great and I know you have that hollow leg.” Betty offered with a shy smile, seeing the joy spread across his face.

“Elizabeth Cooper, I love you so much, you beautiful, beautiful soul.” Jughead said through a mouthful of potatoes. Her full name sounded a lot better than the last time that she had heard it.

As Jughead ate, they talked, about his family, her family, and anything and everything else. But as they spoke, Betty couldn’t help but run his words through her head again and again. She knew he was just grateful for the meal, but it had opened up a strange feeling inside her.

Each day continued as the last had, Betty lugging a large bag of food to detention, Jughead professing his love as he tucked in, and them talking for hours, as though the months apart had been only moments.

Betty couldn’t help but stare at his lips as he talked, how soft and smooth they looked. She shook herself back into the conversation, he was talking avidly about the issues with exponential growth in capitalism. She couldn’t help but smile at the passion in his voice, this was the Jughead that she had missed. Fiery, passionate, weird, close. Most of all close.She didn’t know what she was feeling but it wasn’t normal.

The final day of detention ended. They walked home in comfortable silence, occasionally exchanging quiet jokes about her neighbours as they passed.

They approached the Cooper house, stopping in the empty driveway.

“We’ll still be friends after this?” Betty asked quietly, staring at the ground, afraid of the answer she might get.

“Of course.” Jughead pulled her into a warm embrace, resting his head on top of hers “You’re not getting rid of me that easily again.” She smiled into the denim of his jacket. She felt what might have been a kiss brush over her head, but it may have been him moving his head. They pulled apart and jughead looked as though he wanted to speak, but said nothing as they stared at each other.

“What?”

Jughead grabbed her face and gently pulled her, as their lips met, Betty felt a feeling that she had never felt before. She felt like she had found a home for her true self, light and dark, in her best friend’s lips and, hopefully, in his heart.

#bughead #bughead fanfic #bughead fanfiction #bughead fanfic prompts #bughead prompts #betty/jughead #jughead/betty #bettyxjughead #jugheadxbetty

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leechangjoons · 4 years

Text

Name: Hyunbin | DZ-34 Shifter Form: A monstrous amalgamation of Zeraora, Hyunbin’s fur is a dull blue with yellow highlights, an inverted color palette of the original god. Small spikes protrude down her spine, and she has a tail she cannot retract in her human form. Appearance: In her human form, Hyunbin is a small woman with dark, messy black hair with a yellow highlight between her scalp. Her fingers are tipped with sparking claws, and has bright yellow tattoos of Zeraora’s pattern on her lower arms, which she covers by wearing baggy clothing such as hoodies. Her blue tail extend out from her pants, a bit too obvious to be easily tucked into or hidden. She wears a loose, broken shock collar around her neck, the circuitry slightly too complex to be easily removed, and often looks tired or defeated. On the small of her back, not unlike Hakjoo and Gojoon, there is a tattoo of Destiny Liminal along with her designation of “DZ-34″. Personality: Aggressively distrustful and difficult, Hyunbin is understandably wary of any advances and she tends to overcompensate with arrogance or hostility, but she is protective of her fellow experiments being one of the only clones that managed to inherit their memories. Hyunbin laments her lost fate, as well as the fate of her original (who would most likely be dead), and while she craves to return to her “previous” life, is uncertain if she can or even deserves it at this point. She is however fiercely loyal and devoted once you earn her trust, however, and she will go to great ends to ensure nobody else experienced the same fate she had. History: Originally conceived as a joint Greek-Korean project, the 34th specimen of Project Destiny Liminal began life in a glass tank as a study of a human consciousness being forced to bond with the essence of a god instead of being Chosen as fate would decree. A corrupted clump of fur borne from Zeraora’s travels was procured, and the DNA of an unfortunate residential doctor was then bound to it before the subsequent “egg” was incubated. Many such specimens before DL-36 would’ve perished before hatching, or become stillborn- those who survived grew into irrevocably insane individuals that needed to be put down, unable to handle the sheer power of gods coursing through them. DZ-34 was one of such failures.

DZ-34 was tortured for six years in her confinement with rapid growth until she was eventually “released” for a swift death due to severe necrosis slowly destroying the cloned body’s form. In her escape, she caused severe property damage and endangered the lives of civilians due to the high speed of her movement and manipulation of plasma to ensure she would not be pursued as much as possible, and this eventually culminated in her being hurled in an arena intended solely for the godborns and a certain cyborg bird, falling in with Monarch Acquisitions after their survival.

After doing her research with the memories she’d inherited, DZ-34 reverted to her original name of Hyunbin, intending to keep her current form from perishing as much as possible. She’d become friends with the sympathetic Dawnbringer Joonhan in the process, along with a fellow project DA-41, and the three of them ended up riding off towards the small town of Byeonsan in the hope of answers and a cure for them both. Powers: Hyunbin is able to conduct and dispel electricity by extending and retracting her claws rapidly, and thus form either a barrier of static electricity around herself or accelerate her speed to seem as if she is “teleporting” through rapid bursts of electrical force to propel herself forward. She can also generate powerful magnetic fields through her paw pads, and punch with electrically charged fists to cause as much damage as possible. Immortal/Semi-Immortal?: Mortal Alignment: Chaotic Neutral Other: -

Name: Hakjoo | DU-31 Shifter Form: A monstrous amalgamation of Urshifu’s Rapid Strike form, Hakjoo’s body is a uniform brick-red form with white patterns along with an additional barbed tail to inflict additional damage with, and even in his human form retains the back paws of the god’s form. Appearance: In his human form, Hakjoo is a slightly plump man with shortly cropped black hair- he also wears a bandana with both ends extending down his back similar to his shifted form along with a set of metal gauntlets that protect his fists and dispense muscle relaxants. He’s usually clad in a red track jacket with a white collared shirt emblazoned with the symbol of Monarch Acquisitions underneath, along with track pants. Hakjoo usually doesn’t wear shoes due to his paws, and tends to keep his hands in his pockets while conversing. On the small of his back, just like Hyunbin and Gojoon, there is the symbol of Destiny Liminal on it along with his designation of “DU-31″. Personality: Surprisingly easygoing and relaxed about his lot in life, Hakjoo is usually the mood maker of matters and takes most things into his stride. Being completely amnesiac hasn’t dampened his spirit in wanting to help others, and he carries the flag of Monarch with pride. Most of the time, he’s willing to go with the flow and see where it takes him, and approaches his potentially restored memories with trepidation and fear. He is entirely devoted to his two brothers Sungwoo and Byungeun, and his unwavering fate in them is both his strongest trait and his undoing as he aids them in their exploits without question. Close friends with Hana, a fellow experiment, he rolls with every suggestion she comes up with as well, and they often are partners-in-crime for questionable exploits. History: Originally conceived as a joint Greek-Korean project, the 31st specimen of Project Destiny Liminal began life in a glass tank as a study of a human consciousness being forced to bond with the essence of a god instead of being Chosen as fate would decree. A corrupted clump of fur borne from Urshifu was procured, and the DNA of a domestic abuser was then bound to it before the subsequent “egg” was incubated. Many such specimens before DL-36 perished before hatching, or become stillborn- those who survived grew into irrevocably insane individuals that needed to be put down, unable to handle the sheer power of gods coursing through them. DU-31 was one such failure.

Created to be the most erratic and violent of the projects, DU-31′s observations grinded to a halt when he hatched with no memories of his previous life or any of the aggression they’d expected him to have. Due to his rapid growth in the incubator, DU-31 also started experiencing signs of muscle stiffness and paralysis, which meant that he was unable to execute the fighting style the scientists wanted of him. DU-31 was immediately abandoned in a junkyard, lost and confused about where he’d needed to go next, and was eventually picked up by a scavenging Sungwoo, who sensed potential in the amnesiac boy that was struggling along.

Adopted into the family, DU-31 was christened “Hakjoo” after a heated discussion by the rest of Monarch, and he eventually became trained in covert operations to assist Monarch in information gathering and resource procurement, both items that he tackled with aplomb. He was also outfitted with his gauntlets to allow him to overcome his muscle weakness and fight better: but when a battered Hyunbin showed up, Hakjoo found out that he was in fact an experiment as well, and now has to confront his own past. Powers: Hakjoo’s endurance is significantly enhanced to superhuman levels, and he is able to deflect even missiles with his flowing style of combat. He is also able to shatter any kind of protective gear effortlessly and know exactly which points to hit for maximum efficiency to prevent drawn-out combat, a skill he uses to his advantage in a fight with close quarters. While fighting hand-to-hand, his movements are also fast to the point of being unseen: you wouldn’t even know you’d been hit. Immortal/Semi-Immortal?: Mortal (?) Alignment: Neutral Good Other: -

Name: Gojoon | DA-41 Shifter Form: A monstrous amalgamation of Zygarde’s form, Gojoon morphs into a form that is completely white with grey scales, and his various forms all seem to have patches of scales missing more than anything. Even in his human form, Gojoon’s eyes are hexagonal scales and has scales patterning his arms. Appearance: In his human form, Gojoon is a tan, lanky man with hexagons patterning his limbs and back as if tessellated. He’s usually clad in a long sleeved cardigan and baggy pants to avoid rubbing against the scales too much, along with comfortable, easy to wear sneakers. On the small of his back, just like Hyunbin and Hakjoo, he has a tattoo of the symbol of Destiny Liminal along with his designation of “DA-41″. Personality: Gojoon is sensitive and intelligent, a direct foil to those who’d created him. Artistic and creative, he tends to see the best in everything he does, and tends to wax lyricals about all that he pursues. Devoted to his cause, however, and often fraught with headaches due to his somewhat passive ability, his pacifistic nature has started seeing a shift in something more violent and defensive than his usual evasive style. History: Unlike the others who were incubated from eggs, Gojoon was simply kidnapped and spliced forcibly with Zygarde’s DNA in a bid to silence the man after he’d taken photographs of a restricted zone he shouldn’t have access to. After being observed and simply showing no abilities, he was branded, then cryogenically frozen for a year to announce his failure, but was eventually unearthed by a scavenging Hyunbin and curious Joonhan (who was shocked to see his friend of 10 years completely corrupted).

After escaping and restoring Gojoon’s body after being frozen, the trio fled further into the Six Wyverns Museum, where Joonhan connected with the artefact Magearna, who was presenting as a woman named Goeun. Under Goeun’s protection, they eventually made their way towards Pungdo to stop by, and that was when Joonhan found out that Gojoon at this point was functionally blind and suffered constant migraines from his ability being constantly active.

Left with little choice, the trio eventually began heading towards Byeonsan, hoping to find clues to solve their condition before it was too late. Powers: Gojoon is able to passively see through illusions and hidden walls using his new eyes, at the expense of his actual vision. He also is gifted with seismic sense, which he can use to upturn the terrain around him or cause heavy damage. He is also able to gather strength from the surrounding terrain to shift into increasingly powerful forms to devastating effects, though he has not seen the need to use it just yet. Immortal/Semi-Immortal?: Mortal (?) Alignment: Lawful Neutral Other:

Name: Hanna | DG-30 Shifter Form: Hanna’s form appears to be a monstrous amalgamation of Zapdos at first glance: a flightless variant of the thunderbird god with orange feathers and powerful legs. Oddly enough, with no side effects typical of a Destiny Liminal experiment, people are beginning to suspect that Hanna’s body might’ve actually developed a new variant of Zapdos than became mutated... Appearance: In her human form, Hanna is a thin woman with orange-streaked black hair not unlike her shifted form. She lacks arms, and is often dressed in various comfortable graphic T-shirts or track outfits with the sleeves cut off entirely. She usually wears a pair of track pants to cover most of her legs alongside steel-toed boots with holes cut in their sides to extend her claws if needed and deal devastating kicks with maximum damage. On the small of her back, Hanna has her designation of “DG-30″ tattooed on it, but oddly enough does not have the tattoo of Destiny Liminal above it, instead sporting a strange symbol of a crown that she’s yet to decipher or understand. Personality: Adventurous and spontaneous, Hanna bounces from quest to quest excitably in her insatiable need to live life to the fullest. Fiercely defiant of her lot in life, she rarely stays in one place in a time to satisfy her wanderlust, what prompts her to return to Pungdo constantly is the existence of her fellow experiment and partner-in-crime Hakjoo, and she’s often seen checking in with him or bumming off Monarch’s resources for her own purposes. She acts recklessly and often against direct orders of her “father” and handler, Sungwoong, more a chaotic force with no allegiance than the enforcer she’s expected to be. Despite her carefree and often standoffish nature, Hana does care quite deeply about her friends and Pungdo itself, hence her willingness to become a scout for them and serve the homeless as befitting her father’s pathos. History: Originally conceived as a joint Greek-Korean project, the 30th specimen of Project Destiny Liminal began life in a glass tank as a study of a human consciousness being forced to bond with the essence of a god instead of being Chosen as fate would decree. A supposedly corrupted feather borne from Zapdos was procured, and the DNA of a task force analyst was then bound to it before the subsequent “egg” was incubated. Many such specimens before DL-36 perished before hatching, or become stillborn- those who survived grew into irrevocably insane individuals that needed to be put down, unable to handle the sheer power of gods coursing through them. DG-30 was one such “failure”.

A pure coincidence for existing, DG-30 had emerged stable and sane: but due to the strange nature of the Zapdos feather they’d recreated her with, she had tiny wing-like arms that were entirely nonfunctional and eventually amputated. After observations of her growth yielded no development whatsoever, she was eventually sold to the first prospective buyer: the eventual mayor of Pungdo, Sungwoong, who was immediately interested in the feisty and curious woman he’d now acquired. Taking the name “Hanna” to distinguish herself from the person she shared the memories with, she worked closely with his children and retainers, establishing Pungdo in the process and following them to the new country when it was completed.

From this, she soon bonded with the equally misunderstood Hakjoo, who suffered similar problems as she did, and when she found out he too was unknowingly from Destiny Liminal, she’d been the one to blurt out the news to him and suggest he pursue his own happiness to figure out who he truly was. Travelling alone through the surrounding areas of Pungdo to aid in expansion efforts, she’d discovered a tundra filled with enhanced mushrooms reacting to the power spots Taeoh had set up to power Pungdo (after electricity was cut off by the South Korean government to flush them out), and after bringing a single specimen to her best friend, she realised the mushroom reacted to him... Powers: Hanna’s endurance is enhanced to superhuman levels, and her legs are exceedingly powerful: allowing her to execute devastating kicks and jump a significant distance. She is also able to run extremely fast by channelling electrical impulses to her legs to increase her speed, though this often burns her out faster than executing single long/high jumps or kicking others. She is also able to fly after taking a running start, propelling herself in the air with cycling motions or manifesting her wings to steer herself. What is unique in Hana’s endurance is that her strength grows the more damage she takes, as if the adrenaline overcompensates for her. Immortal/Semi-Immortal?: Mortal(?) Alignment: Chaotic Good Other: -

#korean shifters #project destiny liminal #chain lightning #rapid strikes #snaking across the balance #defiant thunderbird

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customsweaterproducer · 8 months

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customknitfactory · 6 months

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mfmagazine · 6 years

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Ideologie

Article by Lauren Weigle

Photo by Carrie Woomer

Photo, Hair and Makeup by Carrie Woomer

The power of self-expression. That’s what fuels Ideologie…a fashionable take on promoting global awareness for the greater good of the environment. Built on a foundation of hope, awareness, creativity, and other positive influences, Ideologie believes in bringing an artistic edge to the environmentally conscious. This is just the ticket for those who wish to wear only raw materials or eco-friendly products on their backs without shelling out all the money they have in their pockets. Ideologie doesn’t just stop with fashion though. Through networks, blogs, and organizations, Ideologie remains a constant in the lives of all they touch with their vision for the world…which is probably why the company refers to all its customers as members of the family.

Tell me about your mission as an organic clothing company.

Our Mission is to become a premium organic clothing company with the pursuit of making a positive impact on the collective global conscience. Our Vision is channeled by our choice to embrace the power of self-expression, promote awareness of self and impact on our environment, relish on the effects of art, manifest the importance of education, and ultimately create a strong influence through the application of positive communication. Basically, we want to throw good vibes out in to the world, but we want the customers (Ideologie familie members) to be the change-makers. The epicenter of our movement. Clothing gives us that opportunity. It’s a completely new take on Fashion!

What made you decide to produce a label solely made up of raw materials?

Ideologie is founded on the beliefs of LOVE, HOPE, AWARENESS, EDUCATION & ART. It was born as a way to express a positive message and create/expand positive thought put into tangible action. The clothing industry creates a heap of harm, we try to mitigate this as much as possible through the factors of environmental sustainability, social responsibility, philanthropy and close work with different NGO'S, Not-for-profits and social groups around the world, also there is a very important artistic side to all of our work which we very passionately believe in expressing.

Who would you say is your target market?

Given the social side of the project (which is our main pursuit) we try to cater to a broad target of individuals. However, most our family members range in the 16-34 year old range. It’s young people who feel a connection to their surroundings and are aware of the purchasing power and their individual ability to create and inspire change. Family members usually look and feel good because they are regularly doing good. People have started calling us "eco-hip", it’s funny...I like to think of the term "hip" as in "aware" people who are thinking and feeling and constantly expressing themselves to the world around them.

Let’s talk about some of the companies philosophies that are listed on the website…

Ideologie is comprised of much more than the products. There is a heavy philosophical input behind the concept as a whole, it’s the blend of philosophy, sustainability, spirituality, art, social action, and sheer possibility that makes this project so special (at least to us). We are pretty young, and we started Ideologie while still in college, in some ways I feel like this is our young "idealistic" answer to the things we see in the world. From capitalism to nature to the sheer ways in which people communicate amongst themselves. We believe that change can be created and better worlds can come about. Ideologie is our positive action against the negative aspects we confront that we think can be better. It is our take on social entrepreneurship. We are very much aware that all change begins with individual action and that there is a lot of work to be done on a huge basis, were trying to invite you and everyone you know to join us, and inspire us and the rest of the world as we create and experience a flow of positive actions in a direction where the effects created, benefit the majority.

How do you think the lifestyles and fashions of today have influenced your brand?

The lifestyles around us are very palpable, very tangible, one need only to see. It’s a beautiful time in the sense that there is so much going on, and that people at large are being very expressive, open and creative, this definitely fuels our creative process. We see fashion as one of the branches of personal expression so we are always trying to look out and based on what we see create our internal interpretation. I think we are heavily influenced in terms of lifestyle and fashion but we try to tweak it in our own way.

Tell me more about some of your fabrics and your design aesthetic.

We keep it strictly sustainable. Until now we've only produced 100% certified organic cotton textiles. We think it’s the best way to go in terms of full-scale sustainability and quality. We have really great quality cotton....could compete with any in the world and we have also achieved low impact-dyes and recycled water based inks, so it’s a fully sustainable product. You can even plant our tags and wildflowers will grow...LITERALLY! Our design has constantly been moving; we started out with just T-shirts, now we've grown into a broader perspective of clothing line. Hoodies, cardigans, different styles of tops, different cuts in T's etc. We are learning as we go along and we are trying to push it in a direction we feel is fresh and innovative but still under the Ideologie realm.

Your jewelry is awesome too. I love that it's all made from things like seeds and eucalyptus.

The Jewelry Collection is amazing; it’s something we are really excited about. We work with a fascinating artist called Maria Jose Fabrega. She is just so creative and talented. Our main point is to make people aware of the beauty in nature, so we pick up plants from the Amazonian forest in Ecuador (such as Huayruro, Eucalyptus and different seeds) and give them a second life. Some of the pieces are extremely unique as there are no two pieces which are ever the same. Turning them into jewelry and wearing them around is quite the experience, apart from being aesthetically beautiful some of the pieces hold particular smells and even Inca or indigenous beliefs behind the main components. It’s a very holistic view on jewelry!

What goes into making these pieces?

All our pieces are hand-picked and hand-made; each one. All pieces our limited creations as there is zero machinery or mass-production processes behind them. Apart from that, we are guided by nature as we can’t always find the same pieces, seeds or plants so it’s a very artisans creation behind every piece.

Where do you get ideas for your jewelry pieces to begin with?

The ideas are strictly driven by the pieces nature allows us to use. Fabrega (the designer and creator) literally treks through the amazon jungle picking up pieces from the ground. Once she has a decent amount of seeds, plants, etc she begins putting them together it’s a truly harmonious work between nature and artist.

Any new ideas in the works?

We are always coming up with new ideas… Whether working with different social projects, designing new products, building new websites, creating new collections, or finding new perspectives to express the message. We did a very cool project for the 2011 Coachella Music and Arts Festival, we created 3 very exclusive limited edition graphic models for the festival only...very few are out there and apparently quite a bit of peeps are trying to score them... I'm not going to leak any info, but be sure to check our facebook site for updates on little projects like this.

Can you tell me a bit about the Ideologie network?

Ideologie is created constantly by a network of like-minded individuals with diverse backgrounds, towards the expression of the positive goal. From philosophers to musicians, designers, artists and anywhere in between… We are always looking to hear new perspectives and collaborate with different people. We work very closely with Acumen Fund and Entiende Mas Logra Mas, to whom we donate a percentage of our sales and really try to support. Apart from that we have what we call our "extended familie" a collective of projects with whom we collaborate on a regular basis from Art labs, to artists to restaurants....a big family of vivid dreamers with progress in in their hearts and minds.

I’d also like to hear more about your blog.

The NEW blog is a place to share ideas. We usually update our entries once or twice a week and want people to comment, give opinions and refute or contrast ideas. It’s about opening up a medium for people who are into what we like (environment, art, social resp, etc) to exchange thoughts. It’s a matter of opening up communication and hopefully share, learn, speak and listen freely.

Your products are extremely well-priced, especially for the high quality of them.

We try. It's tough times for the clothing industry given the high prices of cotton. For us, because of the sustainability, social responsibility, and philanthropic sides it’s more costly to produce. We had the choice of offering our products at higher prices and making the same margins as industry standards, or cutting our prices and letting the consumers give our pieces the value we think they deserve. In the end, we looked deep within ourselves as a company and decided that our main goal was socially driven and we wanted to create the best products, with the least possible harm at the best possible prices. So it’s a risk in its superficial level as we are not making half as much money as the people around us, but it’s a blessing as we could possibly create a higher perspective on the market and pursue our goals as social entrepreneurs and kind of defy the industry....and that always gives us a little adrenaline rush!

How do you manage to keep your costs on the lower side?

Our production is quite costly. We are fully sustainable and even produce through vertical integration. We don’t exactly keep our costs "on the lower side", but we manufacture products on the high side of quality, art, sustainability, concept etc. The value is really generated on the streets where family members wear our pieces and procreate the message.

What would you say your main goal is when it comes to Ideologie?

Our main goal is to create positive change; to inspire YOU to express yourself and become a catalyst of change in the right direction; to set the customer as the main piece of a fast-paced world in need of progression and care for mother-nature, cultures, and people around the globe. To connect, inspire and be inspired by our surroundings, to create value, and demonstrate that individual ideas are the stepping stone towards communities of value and growth… And to enjoy the process!

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marienela · 5 years

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Library of an eminent Parisian school – gold-tinged light floods the scene

Let’s go back to school, feed our hungry hearts with the wisdom of others Let’s devour their words, play them back in our heads like a pop chorus, releasing them at last in our own voice – A repeated symphony of education and mis-education,

Staged as a secret rendez-vous The Big Night Our on-the-go girl-club is ready to bolt –

Let’s reenact our favourite scene – the parody of a parody, And sheath ourselves in heavy cardigans, their fastenings adorned with heart-shaped charms, Or animal-pattern puffers glazed in lace Let’s wear our hearts on our chests Digital daydreams printed IRL

Let’s customise Air Force Ones, strip them of their laces, and make studded gold and silver ooze from their seams, Let’s be the belles of the ball, wear heart-shaped earrings, melted from deep-black and scarlet metal Let’s wear our sleeves as long as our nights – our dresses mini or maxi, shiny or sheer, coated or frilled

Let’s grasp at colour, frivolity, and eccentricity Reclaim the overtly feminine, the awkward and the glamorous Let’s make the excessive accessible, the stiff evanescent. Let’s learn as we go along, let’s rebel and become.

ABOUT ANAÏS JOURDEN:

ANAÏS JOURDEN was founded in 2012 by Anais Mak.

Born and raised in Hong Kong, where the brand is based, Anais moved to Paris to study fashion design at the Studio Berçot. But it was back on home turf, while putting her ideas into practice in the ateliers of local garment makers and tailors on regular trips back to Hong Kong during her studies, that she got to forge her skills as a designer, confronting her creative dreams with reality.

It was through learning from these artisans – and in turn and pushing their boundaries – that the designer was able to hone her distinctive design aesthetic: a subtly perverted take on formal femininity hooked on controlled volumes and fabric experimentation.

The formal wear and old school elements inspired by her well-disciplined childhood growing up in Hong Kong are the canvas of the ANAÏS JOURDEN silhouette. Mixing artisanal and industrial techniques to make clothes that are utterly modern; collections that lend themselves to all types of girls and lifestyles. ANAÏS JOURDEN is about a casual attitude, delivering a graphic punch to generic femininity. A take on the notion of dressing up that is more about twisting the codes of the classic feminine look than breaking them.

ANAÏS JOURDEN is sold at key international retailers such as Neiman Marcus, Ikram, Shopbop, Lane Crawford, and Joyce.

ANAÏS JOURDEN SS20 Courtesy Of ANAIS JOURDEN

PFW: ANAÏS JOURDEN SS20 Library of an eminent Parisian school - gold-tinged light floods the scene Let’s go back to school, feed our hungry hearts with the wisdom of others Let’s devour their words, play them back in our heads like a pop chorus, releasing them at last in our own voice -

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outfittrends · 5 years

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27 Beautiful Ramadan Iftar Looks & Outfit Ideas For 2019 Outfit Trends - Ideas How to Wear & What to Wear

New Post has been published on https://www.outfittrends.com/ramadan-iftar-outfit-ideas/

27 Beautiful Ramadan Iftar Looks & Outfit Ideas For 2019

Ramadan Iftar Look Outfit Ideas: The blessed month of Ramadan is finally here! Not only is it a great time to pray and ask for all that your heart desires, but it is the time to enjoy the special meal of suhoor and Iftar. But apart from all this, have you decided upon the various outfits that you will be wearing this Ramadan? We have been researching some great options for you.

While the excitement and anticipation of delicious and blessed Iftaar parties and dinner with friends and family lies ahead, it is quite a difficult task to create different looks in Ramzan. So to solve all your queries whether you are Muslim or not, we have compiled a great list of all the many options that you can try this year in all the different events waiting for you!

What To Wear This Ramadan?

Here are a few important details that you have to keep in mind:

Displaying of skin and tight clothing is a strict no-no for this month.

Opt for flowy fabrics and dresses for daytime wear.

Keep kimonos and abaya along with long cardigans for layering.

Accessorizing is the key while going for Iftaar parties.

Keep the choice of footwear simple and classy and don’t opt for uncomfortable footwear

Whether you decide to wear hijab or not is completely your choice

Try new hijab styles for Ramadan Parties

↓ 27. What To Wear When Hosting An Iftar Party At Home

We love the idea of sharing happiness in Ramadan by decorating our homes and hosting iftar parties. When hosting an Iftar, you would want to wear something casual but comfortable so you can easily manage everything that needs to be done. It doesn’t make sense to wear high heels or go overboard with your outfit, so wear your favorite flat shoes and keep your outfit effortlessly chic. But at the same time, dressing well is important because being the host you’re going to be the center of attention and because it’s just so much fun. We love these two looks of blogger Leena because they’ll ensure all-day comfort and because adding some white element in your outfit is such a ramadan-ish thing. If you haven’t worn your white pants in a long time, it’s definitely time to take them out and for some great ideas, you can check out these 10 Outfit Ideas with White Wide-Leg Pants.

↓ 26. How To Dress For Weekend Iftar Parties

If you’re experiencing hot weather during Ramadan then pastel colors and two-piece outfits should be your top choice. The two-piece ensures comfort while the soft pastel colors look great on any hot day. We’re loving the Jasmine vibes that this outfit gives and you can buy it here for £40.00.

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↓ 25. What are some Flowy Outfits to Beat the Heat in Ramadan?

For most of us, Ramadan comes in stifling heat. The breeze is no longer flowing and the sun is beating down on our head. In such a time, there is always a great need for dresses that are flowy and whimsical and would let the air pass, so you won’t get overly sweaty. Fabric and the cut of the dress are an important factor. Go with linen and cotton sundresses or tunics with loose-fitting pants, that won’t cause you to feel any more heat. For daytime and Iftaar parties or Ramadan Brunches, go with lighter and pastel shades along with one statement piece like a jacket or a blazer that you can casually drape on your shoulder.

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↓ 24. Going for Stripes

Your wardrobe is incomplete without the current trend of stripes ready to be worn in Ramadan. Have at least one striped piece that you can easily pair up with others to create a sophisticated look. You can wear a plain white tunic with striped trousers or go with a striped top and plain trousers or skirt. If you love wearing scarves, match your scarf with the color of stripes you will be wearing. Pair up this look with a pearl bracelet and cute wedges.

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Shop the Look here:

Pink Striped Tunic $ 348

Plain White Trousers $94

↓ 23. Unconventional Printed Blazer and Pants

Tired of all the typical dressing options available for wearing in Ramzan? We have got your back. In researching for some great Ramadan looks, we came upon this unconventional style of blazer and pants. The fabric is perfect for wearing to Iftaar parties or Dinner with friends, and you can dress up this look with the right accessories and a vibrant scarf. Since the dress is so vibrant, go with either transparent heels or beige footwear to create the perfect persona.

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Shop the Look here:

Matching Blazer Suit $ 77

↓ 22. How to Wear Tulle or Sheer Skirt

Did you ever think that sheer or tulle skirt could actually be a part of your outfits for Ramadan? Well, thanks to our amazing contemporary fashion bloggers, you can now add a layer of tulle or sheer skirt successfully to your outfits. Not only will this create a great layering piece but you can also easily pack it with you while traveling. You can pair it with long maxi dresses or high-waisted skirts for an elegant silhouette. This look would be great to wear in Dubai in Ramadan.

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↓ 21. Casual Ramadan Look

For days where you find yourself to be exhausted and want to quickly change into something comfortable after returning from work or are just planning on going to a casual get together, your best bet is a white tunic. There are many available variations of white tunic going around in the world, ranging from printed floral ones to embroidered, eyelets and pompom and tassels embellished ones. Simply pair it up with a bright colored scarf and your favorite pair of jeans to get your swag on!

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↓ 20. Color Block Dresses

Color blocking is all the rage this time around and you have to try a cleverly crafted color block outfit this Ramzan. It brings out the best of your features and can help you look effortless without much ado. Whether you are a fan of bright hues or pastels, you will find a great dress matching your taste easily. With a color block dress, go with simple white denim trousers to bring out all the beautiful colors in your tunic or dress. Do check out these 20 Tips On Choosing The Right Hijab For All Skin Tones.

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↓ 19. Tiered Ruffle Dress

Bring on your feminine power with a gorgeous pink tiered ruffle maxi dress. What could be more amazing than this dress, and every movement in this is pure magic and it adheres to any dress code restrictions in Ramadan.

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↓ 18. How to Dress Up as Non-muslim For Iftaar Invitation

Often people from other faiths and different non-muslims face the dilemma of what to wear to an Iftaar party they have been invited to. Well, the trick to dressing up is being modest and avoiding any tight-fitting clothes showing off part of your body in Ramzan. Go with midi or long length skirts and a nice top or with tunics and jeans. You can wear a scarf on your head in a fashionable turban style to complete your outfit if you prefer this sweet gesture.

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↓ 17. How to Dress Up in Traditional Outfits During Ramzan?

Whether you are a local or a tourist, it is always fun to dress up in your traditional outfits by adding your own styling to it. In Pakistan and India, you can opt for a traditional shalwar kameez or churidar pajama which is like a skinny jeans version of trousers. For Dubai and Saudi Arabia, wearing Jalabiya or kaftans is pretty common and tourists should definitely indulge in this popular choice. For Turkey, the traditional dress is a long dress which is fitted above the waist with or without Harem Pants. So for each country, you belong to or are visiting, try these amazing dresses for change in Ramzan.

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↓ 16. What to wear to Work?

For work, we advise that keep it professional yet comfortable. Already, going to work is not an easy feat in Ramzan because you feel drained or exhausted at most times. Line up your dresses in advance so that you won’t feel tensed at the last moment. Keep a few tunics and trousers combinations along with dresses to go with. You can also carry different styles of formal looking kaftans for office wear according to your culture.

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↓ 15. What Should You Wear in Ramadan during Traveling?

Have you planned your trip to an Islamic country in Ramadan? Are you stressed about your clothing options? Well, don’t be. While visiting any country in Ramadan, the basic thing to remember is that in respect of Ramazan, while going out in public places, you have to wear dresses covering your body. However, while in your hotel or resort, you can dress according to your will. So keep a few long flowy dresses, a couple of kaftans and kimonos and some typical jeans/Trouser and shirt options with you. Harem pants or palazzo are a safe bet whilst traveling. You can keep a few different pieces too like swimwear or elegant dresses for wearing at the resort you are staying at.

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↓ 14. Are you Winter Ready for Ramadan?

Have you stocked up on woolen and velvet dresses yet? For people residing in cool or cold weather areas during Ramadan, it is essential to first take care of your jackets and blazers. There are quite a few stylish options like teddy coats, leather jackets or denim jackets. For formal events, cardigans. pashminas and cable knit sweaters are an important outfit maker. Thick scarves are not only important for wearing in winter but will also keep your neck warm when the temperature drops at night.

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↓ 13. Is Wearing Abaya/Hijab a Must for Muslim Countries?

Wearing abaya or hijab is a personal choice in most Muslim countries with an exception of few. So while traveling or staying, it is not a necessary part of dressing up. However, keeping an abaya with you or buying one can help you get ready in a matter of minutes. If you are not sure of dressing up or don’t want to continuously change outfits, simply wear an abaya over any outfit and you can step out in Ramadan without a worry. Here are 20 Latest Open Abaya Styles You Can Buy Now.

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↓ 12. Coverups for Ramadan

An ideal way to go about adhering to Ramadan Dress Codes is through keeping a couple of different coverups ready for both daytime visits or night time Iftaar Parties and Dinner. Abaya, kimono, Kaftans and other traditional pieces can be ideal for layering and dressing up any outfit. Too tired to dress up? Simply put on any simple attire of your choice and embellish it with amazing open abayas and kimonos. You can tie a belt around your waist for greater coverage and sophisticated styling.

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↓ 11. Ramzan Fashion Dresses

Demure outfits can be great as Ramzan Fashion Dresses. There are quite a few unique options that you can easily get your hands on. One such classical piece is a nice pair of culottes. How to dress up culottes without looking like a hobo? Well, for once pair them up with simple prints like both the top and pants having similar stripes with a vibrant scarf casually draped over your neck. Similarly, while wearing printed and bold culottes, keep the top minimal by either going for a plain white top or a colored top with no graphics or embellishments.

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↓ 10. Official Iftaar Parties Attire

Your office is finally gathering everyone for a great Iftaar buffet or dinner and you are confused about what to wear? Well, we present you a chic option of a feminine pantsuit. Not only is this power suit amazing for any office party, but you can pull together some great accessories to appear elegant. We suggest you take out your most beautiful silver pieces of jewelry and flaunt them for this occasion. Go with black high heels to complete this gorgeous ensemble. Here are 20 Gym-wear Ideas for Modest Look.

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↓ 9. Animal Print Outfit

Another powerful look to recreate this Ramadan is animal print dresses. They are edgy and look ravishing and you can dress them up for any occasion or event.

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Get the Look:

Animal Print Dress $ 176

↓ 8. Teenager Ramadan Look

As a teenager, it is quite a battle to find dresses or outfits that don’t only look trendy but go in line with Islamic dress codes as well. So what is our great idea? We want you to get your hands on some cute and funky graphical motif embellishments and stick them on your tunics or favorite tees for a great look. Wear them with cropped pants and your scarf tucked neatly inside your shirt and there you go! You can even wear net socks and sneakers along with a bright-hued cross body pack for going out with friends or families or while going to your Educational Institute.

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↓ 7. Modest Fashion Inspiration

We see certain fashion trends and can get inspiration from them for our next amazing Ramadan outfit. Paperbag pants are very popular these days and get a modest style piece. They are not overly fitted and are great for summertime. You can wear these with cropped tops or a normal top along with cute cardigans or jackets. You can even wear beautiful abaya or kimono with these if you are a fan of layering.

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↓ 6. Harem Pants Style for Muslims

From Disney tale of Magic, comes the Harem Pants (or so we think)! You can style these pants in multiple ways even if you are not going to your next yoga class! You can wear a striped top or a plain top along with a blazer with a front layered hijab and layered necklace.

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↓ 5. Ramadan Hijab Styles

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↓ 4. Playing on Prints

Play along with prints my friend because they create a great contrast and make you stand out from the typical humdrum outfits. They let you showcase a playful side of yours and can be great if you have plans with friends this Ramadan.

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↓ 3. Classic Denim Jumpsuit

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Get this Look:

Black Denim Jumpsuit $ 60

↓ 2. Accessories for Ramadan

Three quick things to remember while going out in Ramadan? Your scarf, sunglasses and a tote bag! Why do we emphasize on these three items? The scarf will cover you up and keep you warm and snug if the AC is working on full blast. The sunglasses can’t be forgotten during the summer days and a tote will give you the option to stock all your makeup and other necessary items ready and within grasp.

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↓ 1. Footwear for Ramadan

Your footwear is pretty much your choice but we suggest that this Ramadan, keep it relaxed and comfortable. So what are your options? We think it is time to stick to either beautiful flat sandals or wedges if you can’t just ditch your heels because we said so!

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#Dresses for muslim women #Muslim women fashion #Muslim women outfits

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