#the sleeves and the flow fabric and the web lace?

[celinamarniss]

Let’s talk about costumes! From chapters one and two of Homecoming:

Chapter One 

Mara had dressed to match Thrawn’s formal dress uniform, in a short snow-white cape hanging over a pair of pristine loose white slacks. Her hair was pinned up on one side with an elaborate gold clip, falling in artfully curled waves on the other side. Without speaking, Luke joined them, sitting next to Thrawn. His own outfit was white as well: white boots and pants, a fine white shirt, and an asymmetrical cloak that hung at an angle across his front and draped long behind him. 

The white outfit + cape is a classic Prince Luke look, which you can find in lots of fanart. I had this example in mind. My #twinswap tag has other examples.

Mara’s pants:

Leia wore a short burgundy jacket over tan breeches, an outfit that mimicked the uniform of the Royal Guard.

I had Padme’s outfit on the left vaguely in mind when I wrote that line, but it turns out that the Royal Naboo Guard uniform looks like the one on the right, uh, oops.

Chapter Two 

Garden Party looks!

Luke decided to wear a kurta he had purchased on Coruscant, the black cloth overlaid with an abstract pattern of silver embroidery. 

The suit that Thrawn wore was a rich, deep blue, several shades darker than his skin. A crisp cravat at his throat matched the color of Mara’s gown, the sharp angles and precise creases a striking contrast to her soft, flowing look. The suit had been exquisitely tailored, the snug fit showing off the powerful lines of his body.

Hey, a dark blue suit is nice!:

He recognised the gown she wore, dark green in shimmersilk, clinging to her slim form—it was a favorite of hers for semi-formal events like tonight’s. Her brown hair was pinned up at the back of her head in a nest of elaborate braids, and a set of thin gold necklaces looped at the base of her long, elegant neck. 

This was a nod to the classic green dress Keira Knightly wears in Atonement:

Leia and Mara are both wearing dresses inspired by Iris van Herpen. 

He caught a glimpse of Leia, in a bright yellow gown, as he scanned the guests scattered through the garden.

Just imagine this, more yellow (and maybe without the peekaboo):

Mara wore a gown of nearly-sheer turquoise silk. Lace-like fibers were adhered to the surface of the fabric like an intricate web of delicate vines. Luke wasn’t sure what the lacework was made of, but it caught the light with a faint shimmer. The halter neckline left her shoulders exposed, with gauzy flowing sleeves that attached around her upper arms.

A sexy little number to wear at your boyfriend’s mother’s garden party!

[ask-de-writer]

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT : Part 20 of 83 : World of Sea

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SEA DRAGON’S GIFT

Part 20 of 83

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

140406 words

copyright 2020

written 2007

All rights reserved.

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

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Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users   of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They may   reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information   remains intact.  They may use the characters or original characters in   my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical   compositions.

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

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New to the story?  Read from the beginning.  PART 1 is here

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Barad said lightly, “So long as they aren’t chasing us, we’ve little to fear.  Come, My Heart, we have to get your Arrakan certificates recognized.  You have an examination before the Board.”  They left in the direction of the Council Pavilion.

Kurin squinted as she looked at the ships and commented, “They are good seamen aren’t they?  It’s hard to stop a ship that big, right at the float.  Now that they’re closer, I can read their names.  The Big one is the Dark Dragon.  There’s two lines of some vertical decorations too.  I wonder why they aren’t afraid of bad luck from naming their ship after Dark Iren?  The other is the Soaring Bird. The Soaring Bird’s letters look really strange.  There are other letters above the name that I can’t read at all.”

Master Juris told Kurin, “That’s because they’re in a different language, Kurin.  It’s Barant I think.  I can’t read it either but I’ve seen it before.”

He turned, gesturing broadly about, and asked Kurin, “Is it just me, or is the market bigger than usual this Gathering?”

“It is,” said Kurin with a pinched face.  “The Grandalor and three other ships have opened toy booths in addition to their usual ones now that they see how well I’ve done for the last five Gatherings. The Gula has the colored cloth booth in addition to their usual fabrics booth.  The strangers each got a booth.  We took up three spaces just for cargo and lace, and have a food booth on top of that.”

“True, all true,” said Master Juris, as they strolled back to her booth. “I got around to the other toy booths to take a look.”  He smiled with a trace of a sneer for the competition.  “Your deal with the Masters of the Craft Council is safe.  The Grandalor is your nearest rival and they aren’t close, though they are cheaper.”

“Speaking of the Grandalor,” said Kurin curiously, what’s up with them?  I almost didn’t recognize them.  Their ship is so neat and tidy that it almost looks new.”

“I don’t know, Kurin.  Their booth people are all smiling and friendly, too.”  Master Juris stroked his chin and looked off absently at the newcomers.  “Even their roustabouts have been polite and well dressed.”  He walked off shaking his head at changes that he had never thought to see.

As Kurin was entering her booth she overheard a pair of Grandalor sailors speaking through the orderly chaos of the busy Market.

“Looka’ there!  A nice knife on the deck!  Mine!”

“You know where it fell from, too.  Give it back to him.”

“Sorry, old habit.  You’re right.  The Lady wouldn’t like it iffin I kept it.  She’d be disappointed.  Don’t want that. — — Here, Sir! This fell offa yer table!  Nice scrimshaw on the blade!”

Kurin settled herself on a stool behind her counter, wondering at the bizarre concept of Grandalor sailors being honest.  She picked up an illustrated envelope and removed a batch of pieces.  To draw trade, she began assembling one of her kits.  The day passed into afternoon.

“T’at’s good t’ see.  A young ane, nae afraid t’ be seen wit’ toys.  So often, t’ey’re afraid t’ey’ll be taken for kinder if t’ey’re seen wit’ toys.”

Kurin looked up at the speaker, smiling automatically.  Her smile hardened as she recognized the two sailors flanking the woman.  They were Grandalor deck-hands that she knew from other Gatherings and did not trust now, in spite of their better dress.

The woman who spoke was short, with a cascade of glossy medium brown hair falling from a complex braided knot at the back of her head.  Honest gray eyes stared frankly at her.  Her face was exotically shaped, almost coming to a point at her chin, mouth smiling widely under a nose that was almost dangerously cute.  

What she wore was as exotic as her speech.  Definitely not sailor’s garb.  At first glance, her blouse seemed a simple strip of satin cloth, white with moving amber highlights, thrown about her neck, crossed in front and fastened behind.  A second glance showed that the garment was carefully tailored to an exact fit and that there was nothing casual about it.  There were sleeves of sheer amber gauze tied to it at the shoulders.  Her solidly muscled midriff was bare. The lady wore pants that were long and loose, matching her top in color and gathered at the ankles.  Her shoes were of sparkling fine scaled black Lesser Dragon hide.

A fringed black sash belt held several pouches and a long knife that was either Lesser Dragon or Wing Ray fang.  The edge was chipped slightly from much use but carefully sharpened.

The tool maker in Kurin admired the care with which the sharpening had been done.  Each chip had been rounded out and properly edged to reduce the possibility of a crack starting.  This knife, large as it was, was a carefully maintained tool.

Kurin’s smile became genuine as she thought that she recognized the speaker. “Kurti, is that you?  What are you doing in that get up?  What’s with the accent?”

The woman appeared to curl up into a mental ball, the life flowing out of her.

“Oi wish Oi wa’.  She’s dead.  M’ cousin Oi’m told.  M’ name’s Tanlin.  Tanlin Miken Princamorn.  Oi’m tired, might Oi sit in yer shade?”  Both sailors looked alarmed at this pronouncement and took her arms to support her, clearly not to remove her.  It was obvious who was in charge.

One of them said, “Lady Tanlin, When Doctor Corin allowed you to come to Gathering he warned us that you are still on the invalid list. You must not tire yourself.”

“Of course you may sit, Lady Tanlin,” said Kurin, picking up on the title and producing a cushion usually reserved for important customers.  “Tell me how come you look so much like Kurti.  You said she’s dead?  How did it happen?  Where are you from?”

“T’ank ye,” she said to Kurin as the sailors helped her gently to the cushion.  “Oi’m Arrakan.  Late o’ t’e Princamorn.  Kurti an’ Oi were cousins.  Our mot’ers were identical twins, so Oi’m told. ‘Ers married on t’ t’e Grandalor, mine t’ Princamorn as t’ey tell m’.

“Oi heard t’at she got t’e lung parasites from swallowin’ reef woter durin’ t’e rescue o’ our crew.  She wa’ often in t’e sickbay but Oi’m informed t’e treatment dinnae work.

“Over four an’ a ‘alf Wotans Oi wander Iren’s ‘alls.  ‘E let m’ go an’ took ‘er instead.  Oi ‘ad per’aps twa ‘ours t’ see ‘er as she failed.”

“Why do you keep saying, I’m told and such?” asked Kurin rather tactlessly.

Tanlin nearly wailed, “‘Cause Oi cannae remember!  T’ey say Oi wa’ ‘it be a falling yard wen t’e Princamorn went down.  Oi donae remember ‘t!  Oi’ve nae ‘istory t’ go wit’ t’e name an’ it only by repute!”

Kurin was at a loss for what to do.  She had heard of amnesia from head blows, everyone had.  She had never heard of any effective treatment. Still a niggling suspicion ate at the back of her mind.

She held out a tallow-slate and said, “Do you write?”

“O’ course Oi write an’ navigate, too.  Oi wa’ t’e Forst Officer, Second Wotch, an’ Share Holder on t’e Princamorn.  Oi lost m’ memory, nae m’ mind,” Tanlin retorted tartly.

“I meant no insult, Lady Tanlin,” said Kurin mollifyingly.  “I’ve heard that Arrakans write differently than we do in the Naral fleet. Could I see?”

Brightening like sun from behind a cloud, Tanlin said, “Certainly.”   She took the proffered tallow-slate in her right hand and wrote quickly and surely with her left.  From the right edge.  She signed with a flourish.  Thank you, Mother, for making me learn this.  It was to help in the Arrakan trade.  Now it is my shield.

Kurin looked at the neat cursive writing in perplexity.  The characters were like none that she had seen before.  Her confusion showed on her face, for Tanlin laughed gently, chidingly.

“Tis ye t’at write differently.  Arrakans ‘ave been writing such for a t’ousand Gat’erins.  ‘T says:

‘Ush little ane, dinnae ye cry.

Nest in t’e ‘ammock’s web, safe from ‘arm,

‘Ear Iren’s Orcas sing far from ye.

‘Appy dreams air yer good charm.’

“Kurti sung ‘t t’ calm m’ as she lay dyin’.  M’ name is at t’e end.”

Kurin, who knew that Kurti had been right handed, was convinced.  Besides, Tanlin’s knife was placed for a fast left handed draw.

“She was wrong about the Orca though,” said one of the two sailors.  “I was port forward lookout, second night watch.  From seventh drum, an Orca paced the Grandalor, singing.  I stayed past my watch to see and hear as it rolled and leaped, playing.  A few minutes after second drum of third watch, it sounded and was not seen again.  That was from when the Lady,” he pointed to Tanlin, “woke up, until Kurti died.”

“Is that true about the Orca?” Kurin asked, one eyebrow raised skeptically.

“Oi donae know.  W’at’s an Orca sound like?  Oi’ve never heard ane t’at Oi know o’.  T’ere wa’ an uncanny sound t’at stopped wen she died,” said Tanlin looking curiously at Kurin.

Kurin, who was a good mimic, let out a long, plaintive, rippling call, close to a whistle.

“T’at’s t’e very sound!  Oi ‘eard ‘t t’rough t’e ‘ull as Kurti wa’ dying!”

“There you are, Love.  I hope that whale wasn’t singing for you!  What are you doing?” inquired a light baritone voice.  Looking up, Kurin saw Captain Barad standing close.  She had seen him many times before but never like this.  He was calm and well dressed instead of irritable and slovenly.  Even more puzzling, he was smiling fondly at Tanlin.

“Look at t’is, m’ Luve.  T’is young ane is selling toys, too!” Tanlin impulsively held out one of Kurin’s Wing Rays for Barad’s inspection.  Thoughtfully she added, “Oi t’ink t’at ‘ers are better made t’an ours are.”

Barad attentively looked the toy over before carefully replacing it in its proper place on the board.  He smiled tolerantly and gently at Tanlin and said, “You are right Tanlin, my heart.  And well they should be.  The Craft Masters Council just broke for the afternoon.  They have made a decision about you, Kurin.  You should hear it from Master Juris, soon.”

Master Juris came striding eagerly up until he saw Barad.  His approach became wary.  Diverted from his original aim, he addressed Barad truculently, “Captain Barad.  What are you and your bullies doing at a Longin booth?”

Once again Barad smiled as though politely asked a reasonable question, “Three things.  First, I came to see for myself the toys that I have heard so much about for so long.  Second, I wanted to be here to see Kurin when you tell her your news.  Third, I was looking for my wife, who has the escort of two of my deck-hands at doctor’s orders. She is not yet fully recovered from serious injuries.”  Seeing the effect of his ‘third’, Barad burst out in genuine laughter.

“To you both, may I present my wife, the Lady Tanlin Miken Princamorn, lately First Officer of the Second Watch on the Arrakan vessel Princamorn?  She holds full Command and  Navigational Certificates from the Arrakan fleet.  Just today they were recognized by examination before the Naral fleet Board.”

Kurin and Master Juris were stunned.  “Your wife!”

Tanlin rose from her cushion and put an arm affectionately about Barad who put one around her.  “Aye, Oi’m ‘is wife an’ ‘appy t’ be!”  

Kurin’s curiosity was aroused by what both the deck-hands and Barad had said so she asked Barad, “Why do you call her Lady?  Is it some Arrakan custom?”

Tolerantly, Barad replied, “Not that I know of.  The crewfolk who were helping Doctor Corin with her recovery started calling her that on their own. The rest of us just followed the fish.  You’ve met her.  It seems to fit.”

Tanlin turned to Master Juris and added, “If Oi ‘ave ‘eard right, ye ‘ave somet’ing for t’is nice young lady ‘oo ‘as shared ‘er shade and m’ maundering.”

Coming back to the reason for his visit, Master Juris said, “True.  Kurin, Captain Mord is bringing the actual item.  I’ll let him do the honors.”

Captain Mord arrived with all the Longin’s officers and many of Kurin’s friends in his wake.  Bringing up the rear but not staying there, was the entire Craft Masters Council.  When all were gathered about, Captain Mord began.

“Kurin Behar Longin, on behalf of the Masters of the Naral fleet, I present to you this Certificate as Journeyman Boat-builder.  The Council debated your age, yet none could deny your skills.  Your abilities won over even the doubters in the end.

“Not only your submission piece but also every piece of your work that could be located was studied.  You are the youngest journeyman in the history of the Naral fleet in any Craft.”  He handed the excited Kurin a scroll that was thicker than the usual certificate.  When Kurin unrolled it she found a standard journeyman’s certificate but pasted to it was a long piece of paperfish parchment bearing the name of every ship in the fleet and under each ship, all of her Craft Masters.

“I — — — I’m at a loss.  I don’t know what to say.  Thank you!” said Kurin, her composure shaken.

“Oi do!” yelled Tanlin, “Congratulations!”  Turning to Barad and pointing, she said, “Luve, Oi’m ‘ungry.  Can we treat t’ese folk from t’at boot’ over t’ere?  T’e breeze from ‘t ‘as been makin’ m’ famished, ‘t smells so good.  ‘T can be our Announcement Feast as well!  T’en all will know Oi’ve t’e finest ‘usband an’ ‘e t’e finest wife!”

“For you, Tanlin, all three moons.”  Turning to Mord, Barad said, “There has been bad blood between us.  You have no reason to trust me, I own that.  I offer you this for a truce between us.  For Kurin’s celebration, let the Grandalor pay for all the food from your booth for the next hour.  We will not quibble the bill.  In return, Tanlin and I spend that hour in your booth with Kurin.  It shall be both her celebration and ours too.  Our marriage will be celebrated by Arrakan custom and law, with an Announcement Feast open to all.”

TO BE CONTINUED

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[indigomez]

Peter Parker -Spiderman pt.2

When you find out Peter parker is spiderman.

A/n: the second part to the first. Kinda smutty because why not;> @drakesfiance @@tylerrose931617 @scottyisthatyou @hollandxvoid

With his right hand caressing your face and you holding onto his arms for dear life. You noticed all the cuts and bruises cascaded on his skin.

'...we...we should clean you up,' he huffed, pulling you in by your waist, 'I'll be fine... that's not why I'm here.'

'Then why...?' His gaze didn't dare to move from yours. Afraid your mind would change if he did.

Unintentionally, his head moved closer to yours his knees slightly bent due to your height differences, you didn't move either.

You two never had your first kiss despite dating for two months. Both of you were nervous asf

Never wanted to push one another into something they didn't want to do. But this time.

It was different.

The look in his eyes was different.

Your body language to him was different.

And yall ain't mad at it,

'Peter... i... what are we doing?' He lightly shrugged, pulling away. You lightly pouted, anticipating the kiss as you looked up at him.

'I want to kiss you so bad, I... but I don't want to hurt you more than I already have,'

He looked at his feet as a light tear fell from your eyes. 'Are you serious?'

'Y/n... I mean everything I say to you, when i tell you that your beautiful I absolutely mean it because. Well! Look at you! I love how your eyes beam with life when I see you. I love when your skin turns red when your blushing or when your sick, it's so fucking adorable I cant. And don't get me started on your lips... y/n you've made me feel things, I never thought I would feel. And made me do things that's out of my comfort zone, but for you? I don't mind at all.'

He leaned in closer, your heart beating against your chest violently.

You want it

'Y/n... I will do whatever it takes for you to believe me...'

You couldnt take it.

You stood up on your tippy toes and pecked his lips. His eyes widened,

And all of a sudden, all of your confidence.

Plummeted

"Peter i-im so sorry-'

He pulled you in, his lips locked on yours. You closed your eyes and embraced the feel of his soft lips.

At first, you both were too timid to move.

Well duh because it's your first kiss

But you lightly gasped as he bit your lower lip, tugging it a little before going back it. Tilting his head to the right as his left hand started to roam up and down your body.

You snaked your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss.

His arms wrapped around you, protectively. Warmly.

As you two pulled away, you opened your eyes as you caught your breath. Along with Peter,

'Go... go take a shower, then I'll help you with your cuts.' You utter, careful as to not ring the beautiful peace. He nodded, dreading that he has to let go of you.

You grabbed some of his clothes from your drawer.

Because all girlfriends like to steal their boyfriends shit but Peter absolutely adored you in his clothes.

After showering, and healing his wounds, you two sat there. On the floor, just enjoying the sounds of the wind through your window.

Watching the white curtains flow in the wind as they hugged a cold mint blue from the moonlight.

'I...I'm sorry, about everything. Especially about the thing with liz.' He started.

You shrugged. 'I don't care... I mean... for all i know shes not gonna be around school soon so.' He scoffed. You had a point, even if he was to date liz and be with her. Shes always three grades ahead. And of course Peter can always catch up with her.

But just the fact that he can slow down, be a kid, hang out with friends and go to band pratice is what kept him there.

Especially you.

'Your right... I don't know what I see in her.'

'Some pretty senior pussy.'

'Y/n!!' You laughed at your cruel joke.

Oh God your laugh

He loved everything about your laugh, the way your dimples show as your smiled, your face radiating joy and laughter as you continually laugh, it was such a pure sound that could never get old in his ears.

He watched as you laughed. Smiling fondly, he loved seeing you happy. He wouldn't miss it for the world to see you smile. Let alone be able to make you smile.

Good God was he lucky... what was he thinking as to try and hurt you?

After your little laughing fit, you looked at him. Instantly knowing what's going on in his head, you cupped his cheek. Rubbing the pad of your thumb against his soft warm skin.

'I don't blame you for what you did, you did it to protect me. And I also cant blame you for being spiderman. It's what you love.'

'Yeah, but I also love you. And... and I should have thought about a better way to-'

You couldnt help it. You kissed him, reassuring him that it was all over. Said and done.

He lifted you up, lightly gasping at his strength, he sat on the end of your bed, sitting you on his lap.

Ohhh God his thighs

Though he was only wearing a long sleeve shirt and some sweat pants. You should have taken note of his beautiful body figure. Sus

You placed your hands on his shoulders, his hands on your hips as the kiss deepened,

Peter moaned as you pulled his lip, you opened your eyes. Letting go of his lip. He slapped his hand over his mouth.

That was the most beautiful sound I've ever heard

'That was the most beautiful sound I've ever heard...' you blinked, just realizing what you just said.

'I bet yours is better.'

PEtEr BeNJimAn pArkER YOU SLy FUcK

'Weirdd flex Peter but alright-'

He laughed, pulling you back in. This time more rougher, that's all you eve ranted.

His hands roaming the beautiful curves of your body, your lips, swollen by the rough kissing.

You lightly yank on his hair, his head thrown back as you kiss his neck. 'Y/n, p-please'

You went right back to his lips. Feeling the cold shivers down your spine as he licks your lower lip.

His tongue fought for dominance as his hands graced your bottom, in between your shorts and panties, as if hes teasing you.

You were lost in ecstasy, his soft lips against yours as his hands roam the curves of your beautiful temple. What more could you ask for.

But when he moved his leg up, you moaned into his mouth, turning red as a tomato you cover your mouth as he slowly opened his eyes. And once you met his you whined and covered your face.

He chuckled, 'see? I told you. Everything about you is so damn cute.'

'Stawp it peter...'

You moaned again when he moved your hips forward, looking up at you for your reaction.

It felt good, really good.

He kissed your neck, bit your earlobe and moved his hands up your stomach,

You tangled your hands in his soft curly hair as he sucked on your collarbone.

You quickly place a hand on his chest. Looking at him with fear laced in your eyes. 'What about aunt may? Wont she get upset if your gone?'

'I told her I'm staying over at your house... she said it was fine, I didn't tell her about the... the fight... or about...'

'You being spiderman?' He nodded his head no, he placed his head on your chest, sighing so his hands feel from your stomach to your waist. His long arms wrapping around you.

'I... I cant tell her, after everything shes been through. She doesnt deserve it.'

You nodded, understating his thoughts.'but if you dont tell her Pete. And you don't come home one day God forbid... then what is she gonna do?'

You were right... but he didn't want to think about that right now, so instead. He moved his leg up again. Smiling devilishly as you moaned into his ear. Sending chills down his spine

'God I live for your moans y/n.'

'Shut up before you start something you can't finish.'

He looked up at you. Cocking an eyebrow

'Oh really? You wanna play that way?'

'Yeah. I do!'

He webbed the tv remote, catching it in his hand as he turned on the tv. You looked at him in question. 'What's that for?'

'Well, I certainly don't want anyone else to hear you.' You blushed, under the dark. Beautiful moonlight he smiled as he could vividly see the burning blush cascading on your face.

'Come here' he growled, you both moaned into the kiss.

His hands straight onto your bottom under the two layers of fabric. Pulling and letting go of your panties, letting out a little help as it slapped against your hot skin.

You moved your hips, forwards and backwards as you ached for some friction.

And maybe, doing this gave you guys a little too much.

Your kiss grew hungrier, as his hands moved your hips. Gripping them tightly as his knuckles turned white.

'Oohhh fuck y/n please don't stop.' He whined,

'Peter... peter~'

Ohh God when you moaned his name, he swore he could jump from the moon and back. He let you push him down against the bed, still grinding your hips on his.

'Good God y/n.' He lightly chuckled, seeing your face. Your head thrown back in ecstacy as you rolled, grinded, and moved your hips in ways he couldnt even imagine.

Lord what a sight

'Peter... i... I'm gonna.' He grabbed your hips once more, moving along with you. His head thrown back against your mattress as he moans along with you. You two stopped, the feeling crashed and waved through your bodies, he sat up. Kissing you one last time before implying. 'I love you so much... we should do this every weekend.' You two laughed. And laid in your bed cuddling. While watching the tv as the night went on 💖

[3rddrawerdown]

One And The Same (Part 5)

Warnings: Real fluff, finally.

Pairing: Peter Parker/Spider-Man x Reader

You sat on the roof, in sweats and a long sleeve t-shirt, reflecting on the events of the evening. Peter either hadn't seen you with Spider-Man, or had left the room out of jealousy. Who am I kidding? You thought to yourself. Jealous? Peter doesn't care. Then, your mind wandered to Spider-Man. The way you spoke with each other, personalities blending so perfectly. The way you danced, anticipating each other's every move. The way he held you, hands in respectful places, but sending electricity through your body all the same. You sighed, lost in thought.

"Hey" giant eyes popped up over the side of the roof, and you screamed. "Woah, woah, it's just me!" Spider-Man held up his hands in surrender. This gave off an odd illusion, as he still hadn't cleared the side of the roof and was merely clinging to the wall with his feet. He pulled himself up over the edge. "Sorry about that. How was the rest of the dance? Sorry about that, too. Robberies and such. I hope you understand."

Your heart began to slow to it's normal rate, but your stomach started to flutter. "I do, absolutely! I can't believe you took time out of your day just to stop by a dance, of all things."

"Well, of course. I like to keep my promises." He winced, grabbing his side.

"Are you alright?" You asked, concern lacing your voice.

"Ah, yeah, just took a nice whack to the ribs. These guys were robbing an ATM down on 21st." Peter hoped you wouldn't ask about how far his spidey sense reached. He hadn't left the dance because of the robbery. He left because his suit was particularly revealing. After that dance with you, well, he was a fifteen-year-old boy, after all.

It was back on the roof getting ready to change back into his tux that Peter had felt the familiar tingle. A van screeched by a few moments later, and Peter followed it to the ATM. When he had interfered, they pulled out some crazy high-tech weapons he'd never seen before. The blast missed him, but busted the store across the street. Everyone in the shop had been fine, but only because Peter let the robbers escape, in order to help. At the recollection, he mentally cursed himself, again, for letting them get away.

"I mean, my parents are out, so you wouldn't have to worry about being seen."

"I-I'm sorry, what was that? I spaced out," he admitted.

"Uh, I mean, I just said you could come in to ice that, if you want. My parents are out, so you won't have to worry about them seeing you or anything. Plus, you could just duck back out the window, if need be." You bit the edge of your lip, which Peter recognized as one of your nervous tells. Warmth seeped into his cheeks. Oh, how badly he wanted to kiss you.

"That would be great, actually." This response surprised you.

"Okay, follow me, then." Oh my God, you mouthed with your back to him. Spider-Man was about to be in your room. You were so close to losing your cool.

He followed you down the fire escape and into your room. You sat him on the bed and went to grab a bag of frozen peas. Wrapping them in a thin hand towel you took them back to your room. You scanned his side, but your eyes began to wander. The suit clung to his frame, and every muscle was apparent beneath the red and blue fabric. "Where did you take the hit?" He pointed and you pressed the peas against his ribs. He sucked air in through his teeth.

"Sorry!"

"No, i-it's fine. Just sore. Definitely bruised. Maybe fractured. I'll be fine."

"Fractured? Does this happen often?" What were you saying? Of course it happens often. "You really should take it easy. Do you need anything... else?" You avoided eye contact, trying not to let suggestion leak into the question.

"Just the ice..." and you. He couldn't bring himself to say the last part, for fear of being too forward. You knew Peter, but you had really only known Spider-Man for a meager 24 hours. He changed the subject, "So, how was the rest of the dance?"

"Oh, I left pretty immediately. Everyone was whispering and I really didnt feel like fielding questions I can't answer. I figured I'd take the weekend to brainstorm what I'll hear the most and how best to answer, you know?"

"That makes sense." A moment of awkward silence. "So. Tell me. Who are you?"

"Oh! I... I guess we never really did cover that, did we? I'm Y/N."

That wasn't what Peter had meant, but it was a good thing to cover. That would have been an sure give-away, had he slipped up with a name he wasn't privy to. "Alright, Y/N, what are your hobbies? What do you like to do for fun?"

"Well, I like to read, usually up on the roof. It's kind of my sanctuary. I also like to bake. Lately it's been cup-pies. Those are just miniature pies cooked in cupcake tins. I take them to Peter's house when we have movie nights." Your shoulders slumped a little. "I don't really know when our next movie night will be."

Peter felt terrible. He planned to fix things at school on Monday, but for now, he placed his arm across your shoulders and pulled you into a hug.

Suddenly, the sound of the front door opening could be heard through the walls, and Spider-Man jumped up, letting go of you. Vague disappointment spread throughout, but you brushed it off as the frozen peas fell to the ground.

"I-I-I- Thank you," he stammered.

"Yeah, sure thing, go-go-go," you practically pushed him out the window. He braced himself to jump, but hesitated, turning.

"Thank you, Y/N."

"Thank you, Spider-Man."

The doorknob to your bedroom turned and you spun to look. When you looked back out the window, he was gone.

"Y/N, what are you doing?" My mother peeked her head in.

"Hey, mom! Just getting some fresh air. How was work?" You were tense, hoping she wouldn't press the subject, as one doesn't typically lean halfway out a window simply for fresh air.

She gave you a look, but didn't question it. "It was good, I made some good sales. I'm going to get started on dinner. Want to come help? You can tell me all about Homecoming."

You closed the window. "I've got some homework to do, actually." This was a lie. You had done it all before movie night with Peter. "I can come help if you need it, though."

"No, no, that's okay. Your grades are more important. I'll let you know when dinner is ready." She left with a smile, and you went to close the door behind her.

Once the door was closed, there was a light tap at the window. Spider-Man hung upside down just outside.

You opened the window again. "What are you doing? What if someone sees you?"

Peter was nervous. "I just, uh... I also kind of got hit in the mouth... would you do me a favor? Tell me if I'm bleeding?"

"Of course! Let me see."

He slowly pulled the edge of the mask down over his chin and lips. You leaned in, gingerly touching his cheeks with your fingertips, looking for any abrasions on the lower half of his pale face.

There was nothing. His face wasn't red or swollen, and the skin wasn't broken anywhere. His face was... perfect. Your heart rate elevated. You leaned in, removing your hand. "Looks like they didn't connect as hard as you thought," you spoke softly.

"Oh, good," he said, distractedly.

"Yeah, no blood," you glanced from his lips to his eyes. The tension between you was nearly tangible.

"No blood," he repeated.

"You didn't get hit in the face."

"One of them took a swing but," he waved a hand behind his head without breaking eye contact, "sixth sense."

"What's that sixth sense telling you now?" You leaned in, further.

"It doesn't... really work like that," he raised a scarlet glove to my face.

"Shame."

Gently, he pulled your lips to his.

It was perfect. His lips were soft and warm. They melded seamlessly with yours. The tension between you melted away into liquid electricity, flowing through your veins to every inch of your body.

Slowly, reluctantly, he pulled away. We stared at each other, processing. He dropped down, then, and you backed out of his way as he quietly climbed back in the window.

"What if-" without looking, he shot a web at the doorknob, overlapping with the frame.

"Then they'd have a tough time getting the door open." He closed the gap between you, but didnt touch you, yet. "You'd be in danger." You nodded, and his fingers lightly grazed your hips. "If an enemy found out about you, they could use you as leverage against me. Which means you could never know who I am. It would only put you in more danger." You nodded again, now placing your hands on his chest. "And you... still want this?"

You couldn't explain it. You just... clicked. You'd never cultivated such a connection with someone in so little time.

All you could do was nod. His feather-light touch on your hips became hands snaking around the small of your back, pulling you into him. He leaned in, head tilted, but he paused, lips mere inches from yours. "You're sure?" In response, your hands slid up to his cheeks and you pulled him in close. You could feel him relax into the kiss, holding you tighter. You had no idea that this was what you'd been missing.

When Monday rolled around, you found yourself less a target for conversation, and more a subject of. No one had approached you yet, but it was only third period.

As if on que, someone slid onto the stool next to yours, in chemistry. It was Peter. Miraculously, you hadn't given Peter another thought the rest of the weekend. Your thoughts had been consumed by Spider-Man. The way his mask displayed such interest in you. The way the suit hugged every ripple of muscle on his body. The kissing.

You said nothing, forcing Peter to break the silence. "Y/N, can we talk?"

"About what?" You focused on copying down your lab procedure, refusing to look up just yet.

"You know about what. Please. I didnt mean it. I don't know what got into me."

"You weren't wrong, though. What are you doing this Friday?" You had heard rumors that he and Liz were going on a date. And by rumors, you meant you had overheard Liz telling her friends. Apparently he was sick and had to leave the dance, and this Friday would be their make-up date.

"I-I-," his eyes displayed hurt and guilt.

"No, really, Peter, it's fine. I take a backseat to your new girlfriend. That's how it is. That's how it should be. Making time for me isn't a priority."

If only you knew, he thought. He sighed. "Look, I don't want to choose between you. I don't want to lose you."

You turned to Michelle, a table over. "Hey, Michelle. Do you have a partner?"

She looked up from her book, "whatever loser gets assigned to me."

You looked back at Peter. "Sorry, Peter. Looks like Michelle needs a partner." You moved over to her table, leaving Peter alone with his thoughts. You were obviously into Spider-Man, but not Peter. Being with you as Spider-Man was not only deceptive and an eventual dead-end relationship, it put you in danger. If any one of his enemies found out about you... he didn't want to think about it. He could reveal himself to you and be with you as Peter, but not only did that option lack guarantee, it would risk you getting even more upset . He didn't want to lose you. He couldn't lose you. And being with you solely as Peter Parker was out of the question, seeing as you obviously didn't share feelings for him as he did you.

Peter looked for a distraction. Now was as good a time as any to work on his formula for web fluid, but Peter was having a hard time focusing. His thoughts wandered to you, and he couldn't seem to stop his gaze from following suit.

You knew why you were being so cold with him, but it wasn't fair. You were upset, but it wasn't that big a deal. You were trying to distance yourself to smother your feelings for him. This newfound... thing... with Spider-Man, it felt real. Really real. It was only a perk that it was helping you get over Peter, but to really let go, this was necessary.

Lunch rolled around and you sat with Michelle. She didnt ask questions, just sat there, reading her book. This didn't bother you, any. You glanced up to see Peter walk in and your eyes locked. Then Liz called out and waved him over. He glanced at her, and back at you. Rolling your eyes, you turned your body away from him. He didn't come to sit with you. Not that you expected him to, but a part of you still felt a wave of disappointment.

For the next couple of weeks, you saw less and less of Peter, and your thoughts reflected that lack of presence. He was replaced by Spider-Man in more than one way.

He would meet you on your rooftop, regularly, and occasionally he would surprise you at your window. You treasured your time with him, as did he. You tried not to think about the long term, choosing instead to enjoy the present.

"So," he said one day, head in your lap, "how's your movie night friend? Haven't heard much for a while."

You looked down at him, eyes breaking away from the sun setting behind the skyline. "I don't know, honestly. He's dating homecoming girl, and we haven't talked in a while."

If only you knew, Peter thought.

"I've honestly been keeping my distance. I denied them for a while, but I had feelings for him." This was news to Peter. He was sure he'd been imagining mixed signals. He was sure of it. Was sure. Past tense. "When he asked Liz to homecoming, I thought we could still be friends, but it was too much. Liz was more important, which hurt, but it gave me more reason to step back and get over my feelings. Then you came along." You smiled down at him, gently drawing circles on his chest. Taking a deep breath, you prepared yourself to admit the following. "I've never felt like this with anyone. We just... click, you know? I don't know where this is going, were it even can go, but I don't care. This, us, it's so perfect. I'm just along for the ride." As you finished, Spiderman sat up, looking into your eyes. He didn't know what to say, but he knew what he had to do.

"I have to go." This was no shock to you. He often had to leave abruptly. Duty calls, and such. But after what you had just shared, you were afraid you'd scared him off. He lifted his mask partway, which never ceased to give you butterflies. Leaning in he spoke, "you're right. We share something special." He kissed you, dispelling your doubts. Then, he hopped off the roof, swinging off into the fading light.

[thesweetblossoms]

Floating Marigolds

🌵Today we hiked Tom Thumb trail, which is a beautiful and intoxicating walk on the McDowell Mountains, a half hour away from our apartment in Scottsdale. My memories of the walk are raw and ethereal, steeped in natural wonder and energy, as potent as the fresh snowy white, shimmering morsels of quartz stone, I found on the trail and as delicate as the many clementine orange, tiny, charming butterflies I saw flitting, gliding, rising and falling in gentle waves along the pink sandy earth, the butterflies, appearing like floating marigolds, twirling through jojobas, acacias, teddy bear chollas, prickly pear cactus and the gatherings of many dried scarlet, amethyst, bleached gold and chocolate tinted grasses. We walked along an uncultivated and wild desert with the shadows and sparkles dancing off the ridge of steely gray mountains, the light catapulting from wiry, needle embedded, hardy succulents and feathery clumps of grasses, trailing cautiously over the stumps of dried ocotillos, as the rushed breezes joined nature as it conducted the nimbus clouds, early October sunlight, far off late summer hurricane winds, nectar gathering bees and palpable dust into a beguiling symphony. Rattlesnakes, tarantulas, javelinas, scorpions and other desert dwellers are spotted on this trail. While, I was curious to see the natural inhabitants of such a cosmically and scenically charged terrain, I was grateful not to encounter any lethal fauna. While hiking along, I felt a slightly sinister energy, a nuance and awareness that the groves of chollas, slumbering mesquite trees, the serpentine and the web weaving habitué of the land, did not appreciate, humans ascending to their territory. Yet, being in uninimitable and unhindered natural manifestations, away from man made structures, traffic lights and manicured landscapes, in an open area, has a consciousness altering quality of change, or shifting borders between reality and illusions, of time moving and shaping the physical world, of the future cascading closer and of sudden insights and visions. As my husband trotted ahead, always a few stretches before me, yet close enough so we do not lose each other, I called out as he entreated me to hurry along. “I’m only a few steps behind.”, the words echoing through mystical, mysterious and impenetrable time and space.

Heretofore, my style has been predictable, often veering into the realm of slightly boring, thus, I am attempting to define it, such that it might inspire novel ways to translate my emotions, personality and subtle consciousness, into the way I present my self, with attire and jewelry. As I was born on the seventh of July, the number seven holds immense luck and possibility, and I consider it a charm and constant reminder of the magical nature of reality. The seven elements of my style would include romantic, feminine, mysterious, bohemian, poetic, classic and simple.

I tend to reach timelessly for white, nude or pale pink shirts, blouses and tops with skinny blue/black jeans, or black or navy shorts, I possess a cast of navy, emerald, white, camel, misty gray, mustard yellow, varied hues of pink and a few royal purple tinted dresses, I vary these, by sprinkling in a few petite floral patterned or striped pieces. My jewelry, consists of pearl, emerald or diamond studs or a pair of very thin gold hoops, I wear my engagement ring every day, with a combinations of a simple pearl ring I inherited from my grandmother, a minimal rose quartz band, or a ring with seven, small Zambian emeralds, I also wear my black Hermès watch, with pearl or brass bracelets. I tend to wear either nude high-heel sandals or pink, navy blue or leopard print ballet flats. In the mornings, dressing myself is a cherished ritual, I enjoy the unplanned nature and the momentous act of going through my collection of apparel, scarfs, shoes, belts and purses to help me gauge both the mood of the day and my own particular sensibility. I remind myself often, to look more carefully at the contents of my closet, rather then to miss details that might highlight a look, idea, or expression more powerfully and clearly, perhaps noting how one of my pink cardigans may be worn with thin spaghetti strapped dresses for work, or how a black piece with pearls would be both appealing and require scant thought on the days I am running late.

Here are a few insights into the elements of my style:

Romantic ambiances include, slowly opening cosmos petals, smoky Egyptian musk incense, a slow whirling fan and a window open with white curtains flapping softly, carrying notes of honeysuckle and jasmine. On days that I skew particularly romantic, I might leave my hair in loose waves, wear a pink dress as pale as a flushed cream rose and eat an almond croissant with dark vanilla coffee.

While, the feminine energies permeate my experience of reality, with attenuating garden blossoms, of noticing the golden light on miniature ivory roses, or of creating a handmade avocado toast with extra squeezes of lime and pink salt drifting like dawn mist on the pale green sea crowned with freshly torn basil, or of a tying a pleasingly floral patterned black and white silk scarf around a high ponytail.

The elements of mystery, heighten the charm and increase curiosity, such as when I deliberately button up my white cotton shirt, over a peach pink bralette, or when I move to reveal, the glimmering sparkles of minimal pearl or brass bracelets, under the long sleeves of a nude toned chiffon dress. The nuances of mystery linger especially poignantly, in the study of contrasts, of wearing a tight bun with a free, flowing, unrestricted dress or styling long, loose, tresses with a tight, caramel lacy blouse and charcoal skinny jeans. In evoking mystery, I try to imagine a poetess in a summer garden, listening to the songs of the pastel nectarine, dawn pink and blood orange stained dahlias that only she can hear, or of the perfume of blossoming foamy white roses, drifting quietly from the garden, on a night of a charged secret, rendezvous by a rollicking, capricious and lighthearted sea.

My bohemian temperament stems from my desire to grow wildflowers, to cut a few for a tiny vintage vase, to wear vibrant coral, burnt sienna, incanted jade green and white cotton dresses with gold hoops, to spray rose and jasmine mist, to burn palo santo, to light a few tea light candles to saturate darkened rooms with pools of starlight, to dwell among old books, houseplants and fairy lights, to read French literature, to dance on a frayed lilac and silver Persian carpet, write about light, memories, emotions and flowers, drink chamomile tea, remain awake dangerously late to read, do yoga, to traipse into reveries, of Paris in the rain, of picnics with artists in a field of poppies and of carelessly swimming in a painterly vanilla and frangipani grove by the sea.

A poetic nature stems from an inclination to glimpse at the heart rendering pain and beauty in any moment, of the perfume of the tuberose strung canopy on a wedding night on a lush hill overlooking a misty winter bay, of an accidental snapping on a beloved string of pearls on the road to California, of ink stained hands and gardeners nails, of rubbing coconut, jasmine and ylang ylang oil over freshly lavender soaped skin, of never having too many lace, silk or chiffon dresses, or of enthusiastically wearing scarfs and wraps during pumpkin spice latte season in the desert.

Classic elements evoke a timeless sensibility and appeal, it appears in my life when I choose objects and pieces that occur whimsically and beguilingly in nature, such as by wearing pearls, turquoise, or rose quartz, from wearing natural fabrics such as silk or cotton, or choosing the cuts of cloth that have yet to be rendered dated, such as shift dresses, pea coats, white button down shirts, shirt dresses accompanied with brightly hued ballet slippers or nude wedges. It translates into the style of my home in the faint whispers from my collection of old English literature books by M. Somerset Maugham, Oscar Wilde, Daphne Du Maurier and more, or in my curated blue and white china collections, or a massive hoard of natural linen napkins, in piles of soft, cashmere, kanthas or Turkish blankets, in botanical and seaside art and paintings, in natural, raw wood furniture, lambs wool rugs, hand made ceramics and more.

The charm of simplicity is noticing the details, so that one may curate and disregard extraneous elements that diminish the purest forms and shapes. Nature is often my muse when I attempt to simplify my thoughts, ideas, design, fashion or lifestyle; for nature reminds us that most beautiful things are generally free, indelible in our memories, is measured in joy rather than in time, yet often taken for granted, such as the unadorned blue and white of the sky, or the emerald light in a green forest, or the rows or ivory roses, mixed with pots of lavender and faded pink geraniums lining a driveway, or of the dual purposes of perfume and glow inherent in a single bottle of coconut oil, in pearl earrings and a blush pink silk dress, or of the wondrous ecstasy of a storm halfway between midnight and the first light, with the windows open, the hurried gales, intense strikes of lightning, lashing rain and felonious thunder, carrying us though the night like a ship in a tempest ridden sea, the earth rollicking and dancing through myriad reveries, while our souls are set adamantly free in way that only occurs while we sleep, the unexplainable darkness of reality, temporarily stayed, by the poetic grace and shimmering excitement of the desert during a rainstorm many hours before the sunrise. Very often, I try to renegotiate my desire for variety, complexity and maximalism with an equally painful inclination for those entities that exult in plainness, such as crisp toast with butter, or a French braid with red lips, or of seashell, poetry book and rose quartz collections, or of rosewater mist and candle lit yoga, or the tantalizing pairing of a cup of green tea and a blanket.

The most salient concern in armoring myself for date nights, errands, visiting garden stores, bookstores, coffee shops or to the law firm, is how a garment makes me feel; how a vivid peach dress with a lilac cardigan may help ameliorate anxiety on Monday, or how a midnight blue shirt dress might assist me on days, I need to refocus my energies on my ongoing projects or how a white peasant blouse, dangling earrings and faintly pink jeans, anoints a lighter mood and gypsy vibes to a mellow Wednesday. Yet, another lens to view my style is through the experiences I hope to have, so I might collect a scandalous amount of pale pink chiffon dresses, for dancing as the clock strikes midnight in a lantern scattered garden in Marrakech, dewy with the perfume of orange blossoms, thick groves of tuberose, calla lilies, cypresses and palms, or a camel sheath with pearls for investor meetings in steely fortresses, or a emerald silk mini dress for an afternoon of visiting art galleries and antique stores while visiting by husbands family home in Connecticut. But the truest way we adorn ourselves are through the little pinpricks of gathered light, accumulated fires and entrapped breezes that we patiently fasten, insert or slide on as final, lingering touches, maybe it is the the diamond tear shaped earrings given by your mothers best friend for your engagement, a delicate lavender rice pearl bracelet found on a trip to Sedona, opal stud earrings reminding you of the ones your parents gave you as a gift on your 12th birthday, the original opals likely in safe in a bank deposit box in Toronto or Dhaka, or the vintage emerald ring you brought for yourself to break the webs of ennui in those mind numbingly plebeian routines annotated by the music of tiny silver anklet bells. For, there is yet explained magic and deeply alchemical poetry impressed upon the gems, stones and minerals that we find along our journey, some inherited, others gifted and a few collected on our own, these are mesmerizing and solid reminders that we linger among stars, that we are as fragile as plum blossoms in the path of an impatient may gale, that the light entrances even the most sleeping entities, that the cracks make the gem even more beautiful, that strength arises from beauty and vice versa and that there are memories, whispers, passionate entreaties, unanswered prayers, surreptitious reveries, twinkling laughter and bespoke tears embedded in the earthly realm, translated so bewilderingly and delightfully into our bracelets and other charms.

I noticed that when a pillar candle burns down so that the wick dances incandescently in a hollow grove, flickering hypnotically in a cave of melted wax with the tower edged and traced by times retreat, the color of the candle is revealed through the fire, as it jumps, scales and tongues the darkened room, it pulses like heartbeats from another realm, it rhymes, riddles and casts the space with a forgotten memory, a distant wish, or an unknown song, it heightens the emotion, of the bitterness of our dwindling lease on time and of the sweetness of its term. The glow reminds us to notice the light impressions whenever we have a chance, for even when the moonlight hits the blossoming Texas sage it reveals further regarding beauty, magic, fragility, impermanence and joy. The candle flame is starlight lingering in our midst, intoxicating in its danger, eviscerating in its power and captivating as it burns the dust, the unheard music and the reality veiling air to offer us its light.

I realize that perhaps the small butterflies I mentioned at the beginning of this piece, written a week ago, may have already travelled along their wild desert mountain paths, imbibing honey from the prickliest-flowering succulents, seeping in the orchestra of sun light chased by the moon, having ecstatically ridden the autumnal breezes, on their way to appearing again far away as earthly marigolds. The same way every tear turns into a leaf and every joy into a flower. 🦋

[ask-de-writer]

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT : World of Sea : Part 20

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

140406 words

copyright 2018

written 2007

All rights reserved.

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

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Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They may reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information remains intact.  They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions. All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

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New to the story?  Read from the beginning.  PART 1 is here

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Barad said lightly, “So long as they aren’t chasing us, we’ve little to fear.  Come, My Heart, we have to get your Arrakan certificates recognized.  You have an examination before the Board.”  They left in the direction of the Council Pavilion.

Kurin squinted as she looked at the ships and commented, “They are good seamen aren’t they?  It’s hard to stop a ship that big, right at the float.  Now that they’re closer, I can read their names.  The Big one is the Dark Dragon.  There's two lines of some vertical decorations too.  I wonder why they aren’t afraid of bad luck from naming their ship after Dark Iren?  The other is the Soaring Bird. The Soaring Bird’s letters look really strange.  There are other letters above the name that I can’t read at all.”

Master Juris told Kurin, “That’s because they’re in a different language, Kurin.  It’s Barant I think.  I can’t read it either but I’ve seen it before.”

He turned, gesturing broadly about, and asked Kurin, “Is it just me, or is the market bigger than usual this Gathering?”

“It is,” said Kurin with a pinched face.  “The Grandalor and three other ships have opened toy booths in addition to their usual ones now that they see how well I’ve done for the last five Gatherings. The Gula has the colored cloth booth in addition to their usual fabrics booth.  The strangers each got a booth.  We took up three spaces just for cargo and lace, and have a food booth on top of that.”

“True, all true,” said Master Juris, as they strolled back to her booth. “I got around to the other toy booths to take a look.”  He smiled with a trace of a sneer for the competition.  “Your deal with the Masters of the Craft Council is safe.  The Grandalor is your nearest rival and they aren’t close, though they are cheaper.”

“Speaking of the Grandalor,” said Kurin curiously, what’s up with them?  I almost didn’t recognize them.  Their ship is so neat and tidy that it almost looks new.”

“I don’t know, Kurin.  Their booth people are all smiling and friendly, too.”  Master Juris stroked his chin and looked off absently at the newcomers.  “Even their roustabouts have been polite and well dressed.”  He walked off shaking his head at changes that he had never thought to see.

As Kurin was entering her booth she overheard a pair of Grandalor sailors speaking through the orderly chaos of the busy Market.

“Looka’ there!  A nice knife on the deck!  Mine!”

“You know where it fell from, too.  Give it back to him.”

“Sorry, old habit.  You’re right.  The Lady wouldn’t like it iffin I kept it.  She’d be disappointed.  Don’t want that. — — Here, Sir! This fell offa yer table!  Nice scrimshaw on the blade!”

Kurin settled herself on a stool behind her counter, wondering at the bizarre concept of Grandalor sailors being honest.  She picked up an illustrated envelope and removed a batch of pieces.  To draw trade, she began assembling one of her kits.  The day passed into afternoon.

“T’at’s good t’ see.  A young ane, nae afraid t’ be seen wit’ toys.  So often, t’ey’re afraid t’ey’ll be taken for kinder if t’ey’re seen wit’ toys.”

Kurin looked up at the speaker, smiling automatically.  Her smile hardened as she recognized the two sailors flanking the woman.  They were Grandalor deck-hands that she knew from other Gatherings and did not trust now, in spite of their better dress.

The woman who spoke was short, with a cascade of glossy medium brown hair falling from a complex braided knot at the back of her head.  Honest gray eyes stared frankly at her.  Her face was exotically shaped, almost coming to a point at her chin, mouth smiling widely under a nose that was almost dangerously cute.  

What she wore was as exotic as her speech.  Definitely not sailor’s garb.  At first glance, her blouse seemed a simple strip of satin cloth, white with moving amber highlights, thrown about her neck, crossed in front and fastened behind.  A second glance showed that the garment was carefully tailored to an exact fit and that there was nothing casual about it.  There were sleeves of sheer amber gauze tied to it at the shoulders.  Her solidly muscled midriff was bare. The lady wore pants that were long and loose, matching her top in color and gathered at the ankles.  Her shoes were of sparkling fine scaled black Lesser Dragon hide.

A fringed black sash belt held several pouches and a long knife that was either Lesser Dragon or Wing Ray fang.  The edge was chipped slightly from much use but carefully sharpened.

The tool maker in Kurin admired the care with which the sharpening had been done.  Each chip had been rounded out and properly edged to reduce the possibility of a crack starting.  This knife, large as it was, was a carefully maintained tool.

Kurin’s smile became genuine as she thought that she recognized the speaker. “Kurti, is that you?  What are you doing in that get up?  What’s with the accent?”

The woman appeared to curl up into a mental ball, the life flowing out of her.

“Oi wish Oi wa’.  She’s dead.  M’ cousin Oi’m told.  M’ name’s Tanlin.  Tanlin Miken Princamorn.  Oi’m tired, might Oi sit in yer shade?”  Both sailors looked alarmed at this pronouncement and took her arms to support her, clearly not to remove her.  It was obvious who was in charge.

One of them said, “Lady Tanlin, When Doctor Corin allowed you to come to Gathering he warned us that you are still on the invalid list. You must not tire yourself.”

“Of course you may sit, Lady Tanlin,” said Kurin, picking up on the title and producing a cushion usually reserved for important customers.  “Tell me how come you look so much like Kurti.  You said she’s dead?  How did it happen?  Where are you from?”

“T’ank ye,” she said to Kurin as the sailors helped her gently to the cushion.  “Oi’m Arrakan.  Late o’ t’e Princamorn.  Kurti an’ Oi were cousins.  Our mot’ers were identical twins, so Oi’m told. ‘Ers married on t’ t’e Grandalor, mine t’ Princamorn as t’ey tell m'.

“Oi heard t’at she got t’e lung parasites from swallowin’ reef woter durin’ t’e rescue o’ our crew.  She wa’ often in t’e sickbay but Oi’m informed t’e treatment dinnae work.

“Over four an’ a ‘alf Wotans Oi wander Iren’s ‘alls.  ‘E let m’ go an’ took ‘er instead.  Oi ‘ad per’aps twa ‘ours t’ see ‘er as she failed.”

“Why do you keep saying, I’m told and such?” asked Kurin rather tactlessly.

Tanlin nearly wailed, “‘Cause Oi cannae remember!  T’ey say Oi wa’ ‘it be a falling yard wen t’e Princamorn went down.  Oi donae remember ‘t!  Oi’ve nae ‘istory t’ go wit’ t’e name an’ it only by repute!”

Kurin was at a loss for what to do.  She had heard of amnesia from head blows, everyone had.  She had never heard of any effective treatment. Still a niggling suspicion ate at the back of her mind.

She held out a tallow-slate and said, “Do you write?”

“O’ course Oi write an’ navigate, too.  Oi wa’ t’e Forst Officer, Second Wotch, an’ Share Holder on t’e Princamorn.  Oi lost m’ memory, nae m’ mind,” Tanlin retorted tartly.

“I meant no insult, Lady Tanlin,” said Kurin mollifyingly.  “I’ve heard that Arrakans write differently than we do in the Naral fleet. Could I see?”

Brightening like sun from behind a cloud, Tanlin said, “Certainly.”   She took the proffered tallow-slate in her right hand and wrote quickly and surely with her left.  From the right edge.  She signed with a flourish.  Thank you, Mother, for making me learn this.  It was to help in the Arrakan trade.  Now it is my shield.

Kurin looked at the neat cursive writing in perplexity.  The characters were like none that she had seen before.  Her confusion showed on her face, for Tanlin laughed gently, chidingly.

“Tis ye t’at write differently.  Arrakans ‘ave been writing such for a t’ousand Gat’erins.  ‘T says:

‘Ush little ane, dinnae ye cry.

Nest in t’e ‘ammock’s web, safe from ‘arm,

‘Ear Iren’s Orcas sing far from ye.

‘Appy dreams air yer good charm.’

“Kurti sung ‘t t’ calm m’ as she lay dyin’.  M’ name is at t’e end.”

Kurin, who knew that Kurti had been right handed, was convinced.  Besides, Tanlin’s knife was placed for a fast left handed draw.

“She was wrong about the Orca though,” said one of the two sailors.  “I was port forward lookout, second night watch.  From seventh drum, an Orca paced the Grandalor, singing.  I stayed past my watch to see and hear as it rolled and leaped, playing.  A few minutes after second drum of third watch, it sounded and was not seen again.  That was from when the Lady,” he pointed to Tanlin, “woke up, until Kurti died.”

“Is that true about the Orca?” Kurin asked, one eyebrow raised skeptically.

“Oi donae know.  W’at’s an Orca sound like?  Oi’ve never heard ane t’at Oi know o’.  T’ere wa’ an uncanny sound t’at stopped wen she died,” said Tanlin looking curiously at Kurin.

Kurin, who was a good mimic, let out a long, plaintive, rippling call, close to a whistle.

“T’at’s t’e very sound!  Oi ‘eard ‘t t’rough t’e ‘ull as Kurti wa’ dying!”

“There you are, Love.  I hope that whale wasn’t singing for you!  What are you doing?” inquired a light baritone voice.  Looking up, Kurin saw Captain Barad standing close.  She had seen him many times before but never like this.  He was calm and well dressed instead of irritable and slovenly.  Even more puzzling, he was smiling fondly at Tanlin.

“Look at t’is, m’ Luve.  T’is young ane is selling toys, too!” Tanlin impulsively held out one of Kurin’s Wing Rays for Barad’s inspection.  Thoughtfully she added, “Oi t’ink t’at ‘ers are better made t’an ours are.”

Barad attentively looked the toy over before carefully replacing it in its proper place on the board.  He smiled tolerantly and gently at Tanlin and said, ��You are right Tanlin, my heart.  And well they should be.  The Craft Masters Council just broke for the afternoon.  They have made a decision about you, Kurin.  You should hear it from Master Juris, soon.”

Master Juris came striding eagerly up until he saw Barad.  His approach became wary.  Diverted from his original aim, he addressed Barad truculently, “Captain Barad.  What are you and your bullies doing at a Longin booth?”

Once again Barad smiled as though politely asked a reasonable question, “Three things.  First, I came to see for myself the toys that I have heard so much about for so long.  Second, I wanted to be here to see Kurin when you tell her your news.  Third, I was looking for my wife, who has the escort of two of my deck-hands at doctor's orders. She is not yet fully recovered from serious injuries.”  Seeing the effect of his ‘third’, Barad burst out in genuine laughter.

“To you both, may I present my wife, the Lady Tanlin Miken Princamorn, lately First Officer of the Second Watch on the Arrakan vessel Princamorn?  She holds full Command and  Navigational Certificates from the Arrakan fleet.  Just today they were recognized by examination before the Naral fleet Board.”

Kurin and Master Juris were stunned.  “Your wife!”

Tanlin rose from her cushion and put an arm affectionately about Barad who put one around her.  “Aye, Oi’m ‘is wife an’ ‘appy t’ be!”  

Kurin’s curiosity was aroused by what both the deck-hands and Barad had said so she asked Barad, “Why do you call her Lady?  Is it some Arrakan custom?”

Tolerantly, Barad replied, “Not that I know of.  The crewfolk who were helping Doctor Corin with her recovery started calling her that on their own. The rest of us just followed the fish.  You’ve met her.  It seems to fit.”

Tanlin turned to Master Juris and added, “If Oi ‘ave ‘eard right, ye ‘ave somet’ing for t’is nice young lady ‘oo ‘as shared ‘er shade and m’ maundering.”

Coming back to the reason for his visit, Master Juris said, “True.  Kurin, Captain Mord is bringing the actual item.  I’ll let him do the honors.”

Captain Mord arrived with all the Longin’s officers and many of Kurin’s friends in his wake.  Bringing up the rear but not staying there, was the entire Craft Masters Council.  When all were gathered about, Captain Mord began.

“Kurin Behar Longin, on behalf of the Masters of the Naral fleet, I present to you this Certificate as Journeyman Boat-builder.  The Council debated your age, yet none could deny your skills.  Your abilities won over even the doubters in the end.

“Not only your submission piece but also every piece of your work that could be located was studied.  You are the youngest journeyman in the history of the Naral fleet in any Craft.”  He handed the excited Kurin a scroll that was thicker than the usual certificate.  When Kurin unrolled it she found a standard journeyman’s certificate but pasted to it was a long piece of paperfish parchment bearing the name of every ship in the fleet and under each ship, all of her Craft Masters.

“I — — — I’m at a loss.  I don’t know what to say.  Thank you!” said Kurin, her composure shaken.

“Oi do!” yelled Tanlin, “Congratulations!”  Turning to Barad and pointing, she said, “Luve, Oi’m ‘ungry.  Can we treat t’ese folk from t’at boot’ over t’ere?  T’e breeze from ‘t ‘as been makin’ m’ famished, ‘t smells so good.  ‘T can be our Announcement Feast as well!  T’en all will know Oi’ve t’e finest ‘usband an’ ‘e t’e finest wife!”

“For you, Tanlin, all three moons.”  Turning to Mord, Barad said, “There has been bad blood between us.  You have no reason to trust me, I own that.  I offer you this for a truce between us.  For Kurin’s celebration, let the Grandalor pay for all the food from your booth for the next hour.  We will not quibble the bill.  In return, Tanlin and I spend that hour in your booth with Kurin.  It shall be both her celebration and ours too.  Our marriage will be celebrated by Arrakan custom and law, with an Announcement Feast open to all.”

TO BE CONTINUED

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Our Universal Mother - Part 4 - 2

Mary’s Espousal to Saint Joseph and Her Wedding Ring - Part 2

The espousal took place, according to Catherine Emmerich on the 23rd. of January. Mary and Joseph were celebrated in Jerusalem, on Mount Zion in a house often used for such feasts. After the celebration, Mary, accompanied by the seven other virgins who had also left the Temple with Mary, began their festal journey to Nazareth, where St. Anne had already prepared her little home. The marriage feast lasted seven or eight days. The women and the virgin companions of Mary in the Temple, were present, along with many relatives of Joachim and Anne. Many lambs were slaughtered and offered in sacrifice.

Mary's bridal dress was colored, she had on a woolen under dress without sleeves, her arms encircled by white, woolen fillets. On the breast and as high as the neck, lay a white collar ornamented with jewels, pearls, etc. Then came a kind of a gown open in front, wide like a mantle from top to bottom, and with flowing sleeves. This gown was blue, embroidered with large red, white, and yellow roses and green leaves, something like the ancient vestments worn at Mass. It fastened around the neck on the white-collar, and the lower border was edged with fringes and tassels. Over this was a kind of a scapular of white and gold flowered silk, set over the breast with pearls and shining stones. It lay upon the front opening of the dress, and reached to the edge of the same; it was about one half an ell (approximately 23 inches) wide and was fringed with tassels and balls. A corresponding strip hung down the back, while shorter and narrower ones fell over the shoulders and arms. These lappets were caught under the arms from front to back with the gold cords, or delicate chains, with which the broad upper piece of the bodice was fastened, as also the breast piece that was placed over the upper body. By this arrangement, the flowered stuff of the dress was puffed out between the cords. The wide sleeves were tightly fastened in the middle of the upper and lower arm by buckles, puffin out around the shoulders, the elbows, and the wrists.

Over this costume fell a long sky-blue mantle. It was fastened at the neck by an ornament, and over it was a white ruffle seemingly of feathers or silk dots. The mantle fell back from the shoulders, forming a large fold on the sides, and hung behind in a pointed train. It was embroidered around the edge in flowers of gold.

Mary's hair was arranged with such skill that Catherine Emmerich had difficulty in describing it. It was parted on top of the head and divided into numerous fine strands, which were caught together with pearls and white silk. It formed a large net that fell over the shoulders and down the back to the middle of the mantle. It looked like a web. The ends of the hair were rolled in, and the whole net edged with fringe and pearls. On her head was placed, first a wreath of white raw silk or wool, closing on top with three bands of the same fabric meeting in a tuft. On this rested a crown about the breadth of one's hand, set with many colored jewels. Three pieces arose from the circlet and met together in the center, where they were surmounted by a ball.

In her left hand Mary carried a little garland of red and white roses made of silk, and in her right-hand a beautiful candlestick covered with gold. It had no foot, but was furnished like a scepter with knobs above and below the point in which it was to be grasped by the hand. The stem began to swell out in the middle and ended in a little dish upon which burned a white flame.

On her feet she wore heavy sandals about two fingers in thickness under which, both in front and in back, were supports like a heel. They were green and gave the foot the appearance of standing upon sods. Two straps, white and gold, went over the foot and held them in their place. Joseph wore a long, wide bluecoat fastened from the breast down, with loops and buttons. The wide sleeves were laced at the sides, a broad cuff turned up at the wrist, the inside provided, as it were, with pockets. Around the neck was something like a brown collar, over which lay a kind of stole, and upon the breast hung two white bands.

[gobabokhanuniverse-blog]

Buy Vintage Clothing

Would you love the feel of vintage clothing but have a problem discovering it inside a bigger size? It requires persistence and persistence to locate vintage clothing that matches. When you're shopping consider wearing not just a properly fitted bra but additionally a complete slip to assist smooth you and also assist the vintage slide off and on. Here are a few creative good ideas , find and put on vintage clothing inside a full figured. For the best retro fashion, visit our website today!

Expand your alternatives - try looking in different departments.

When you're searching for bigger size vintage widen your field. Try looking in other departments like men's put on. Lots of men's shirts could be tailored with darts or perhaps a belt to provide you with a nipped in waist. Hawaiian or resort put on has fun patterns and colours. Tuxedo jackets have potential are available in black, charcoal,shades of white-colored and pastel colors. Search for pullover sweaters and vests rather of button up because the fabric normally has more share with it . Men's lounge put on like robes and jackets could make wonderful evening put on. Fabric ties could be substituted for belts to alter the appearance. Look into the women's vintage lingerie section. Lingerie could be layered as daywear rather of night put on. A lengthy robe could be shortened to put on like a jacket. Search for lingerie gowns or nightgowns, give a camisole or perhaps a slip underneath to transition into daywear - maybe add leggings . Take a look at pajama tops and pants, wrap dresses and housecoats. Are you able to add accessories to alter the appearance ? Put on a robe like a wrap dress ? Separates have an improved chance of fitting than the usual dress and you may combine.

Have a re-assessment - re-think the decades

Lots of fashion is really a reinterpretation or reworking of previous styles. If you want the 40's look have you thought about clothing produced in the 80's ? You will see peplums, big shoulders and flared skirts. Add some right accessories and you will have a retro 40's look. As well as the clothes produced in the 80's tend to be more in sync with today's bodily proportions. Certain fashions within the 70's were built with a 1930's feel with cap sleeves along with a softer romantic try looking in slinky fabrics. The 60's recycled an extended looser try looking in pants and dresses that may seem like the 20's. Today's capri pants possess a vintage 50's look. Pair having a vintage shirt and make up a retro look. Add a bit of vintage jewellery, a hat or scarf to a contemporary piece and provide it vintage flare.

Measure and know your measurements

Make use of your tape-measure and know your measurements. Whenever you put on vintage, put on a great slip and bra so it is not only simpler to have it on but you will have a smoother shape to determine the look and fit. Most probably with a renovation or adjustments to help make the piece ideal for you. Are you able to move a control button to obtain more room? Can a wrap dress be worn more loosely ? Are you able to put on a shirt open like a jacket? Whether it fits and there is a place, are you able to pay for it along with some decoration or trim? Don't always choose the baggiest factor around the rack. Baggy enables you to look bigger - if you want the biggest size then attempt to tailor it to suit having a belt or sash or some tucks.

Update your alternatives and altering vintage

In the event you change a bit of vintage clothing or otherwise? Many people believe that altering vintage clothing is much like altering a bit of history. Others explain that individuals usually have altered clothing to really make it fit, to update it and also to pass it along to another lined up. If you are handy or have a very good tailor you are able to remake vintage to suit a bigger size with imagination and creativeness. Here's some update ideas.

Remove shoulder pads or inner linings to provide more room

Split an outfit in the sides just like a tunic to really make it fit, then put on it over leggings.

Whether it matches the bust but is simply too big within the waist, sew in elastic inside in the waist to create a better fit

For circle skirts which are not big enough within the waist stop the waist band and stitch in elastic for your size

Vintage sweater just a little small? Try tying it around shoulders or put on it thrown over shoulders having a sweater guard

PJ pants cut as clam diggers

Try inserts of lacing, lace or stretch fabric to obtain more give

Move buttons more than a little in button up shirts

Way too short ? Adding a gang of lace or ruffles at the end hem

Can't button it in-front? Drape a shawl around your neck and put on it within the outfit. It will not be as noticeable, particularly if the scarf matches carefully colored.

Based on Nima Beckie, former Arts & Entertainment Editor of "SKORCH' magazine, a web-based magazine for the larger lady, "When it comes to adapting vintage, this is obvious for those full figured fashions, and that i cannot stress this enough, find the best tailor to utilize. That lovely dress, you won't want to ruin, since it was too lengthy. Or individuals that are awesome bell bottoms, you leaped up and lower whenever you found, you would like them also to fit around the waist and not simply the pants right?"

Remember there are other vintage shopping options than in the past. The web provides you with use of shops all over the world. Let the creativity flow, have patience, be persistent and you'll find vintage to fit your needs whatever your size and shape. And after you have a bit that matches, take good proper care of it, allow it to be last. Celebrate your size and shape and dress yourself well in vintage finery. Want to know more about 50s fashion? Visit our website for more information.

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​You probably recognize that there are completely different wedding gown materials during this fun and exciting issue we tend to decision wedding Gowns & dress looking. however, what you will not understand is how these completely different materials have an effect on the form of the robe and the way that shape affects you. We often see brides(Mother Dresses) United Nations agency are available in who are hospitable completely different materials and quickly learn what fabrics do and don’t work for them. 

We LOVE this! 

Knowing what materials do and don’t work for you may be a building block to finding the right dress! And in knowing this, in conjunction with another terribly poignant queries we've up our sleeves, we will quickly establish what form, style, atmosphere and temperament of a robe is correct for you. ​So we might like to be able to offer you a touch insight into wedding gown materials and what which means for you! Because let’s be honest, we all know however overwhelming it may be to search out the right dress, however with a touch little bit of education, you'll be able to be on your thanks to finding it. And in fact, we’re here to assist in the approach. 

Bridal gown fabrics 

First UP…CHIFFON ​This cloth is usually known as soft, airy, ethereal and frequently found in a-line silhouettes. Chiffon could be a lightweight, sheer cloth manufactured from silk or nylon. there's virtually no structure to the current cloth, thus the ethereal nature it's. As we said, this cloth is typically found on a-line silhouettes because it doesn’t possess plenty of volumes compared to a-line’s sister form, the ballgown. If you're wanting a dress that's additional efficient and fits more with a slimming, falling-right-along-the-body form than chiffon is a wonderful selection. She’s super comfy and intensely lightweight as well! 

What we love most about this fabric: 

When the wind blows, this cloth really shines! Chiffon is lightweight enough for the wind to select it up and graciously blow within the wind making some wonderful shots for your lensman to capture. ​SECOND…TULLE Tulle is represented as a fine mesh net-like cloth typically created out of silk, nylon or cotton. the mesh is habitually accustomed build wedding cowl. This cloth is super lightweight too, however, possesses a lot of structure looking on what material it's created out of. we've got robes that have a lot of silk-based mesh, creating the robe implausibly soft however features a bit of weight to that. 

A lot of nylon or rayon-based mesh can have more volume and stand out against the body leaning towards a ballgown form. this is often nice as you'll get on the point of a fuller skirted look however while not a load of a standard ballgown. 

What we love most about this fabric:​

Tulle encompasses a name for being light-weight and comfy with an impulsive nature. the material provides United States of America contemporary aristocrat vibes jam-packed with ambition, dedication, and romance! THIRD…ORGANZA Organza is one in all the additional ancient wedding dress materials used. This material is additionally additional of a sheer material sometimes made of silk. represented as a comprehensible weave, it's additionally Very light and has quite a little bit of structure, creating it an ideal combination. You can typically realize material to be one in all the most ingredients of a ballgown. folded and ruched over a top to flowing out graciously from the natural waist, this material has all the feels of class and class. This material is additional conspicuously found on a ballgown or a-line, however, with associate degree knowledgeable hand, you'll be able to realize a designer WHO makes a fitted robe in material too.

​What we love most about this fabric:

​It offers the US all the unchanged wedding gown feels. this can be an excellent material for desperate to feel the last word bride ambiance whereas not too crazy concerning lace. FOURTH…TAFFETA We love that cloth is delineate as a crisp, swish taffeta weave material made up of silk and textile. undoubtedly found most typically in ballgowns. this can be additional of ancient material and holds it’s formed alright once placed. This is conjointly a material you may not notice fairly often currently. we've got found most up-to-date brides elect additional softer designs. This material is additionally historically costlier and wishes AN knowledgeable hand to maneuver within the style method.​ 

A classic vogue has its place as expected and that we have a sense the ballgown goes to be having a significant come before long. FIFTH…YOU understand IT…LACE Lace, lace, lace. we tend to love lace! Lace has several structures and might offer off totally different personalities. From Chantilly lace and it’s supremely delicate nature, to a crochet lace and its durable and additional substantial feel, lace will run the board. Made in a very web-like pattern into shapes, florals, or endless pattern, it's sometimes made of silk, cotton, and within the recent days most ordinarily in linen. (Think grandma’s dinner napkins.) Lace is superb for fitted robes. It extremely holds you in and feels comfortable. Some lace, however, won't have tons of flexibility, whereas others have fabric woven in and still offers you some stretch. 

What we love most about this fabric:​

There are such a big amount of differing kinds of lace, however, you'll notice this gown material all told shapes and silhouettes. therefore notwithstanding what form robe, you decide on, and you wish that classic lace ambiance, you’ll be able to notice it no downside. SIXTH…SILK CREPE Silk crepe isn't solely material however has become a mode in and of itself. assume Lady Meghan Markle or Pippa pamphleteer. Silk crepe has a tremendous structure that's each versatile (great for fitted robes) and strength to essentially cause you to feel comfortable in your gown(For Kids). to not mention the unbelievable last word this kind of cloth exudes! Most silk crepe can have a rough-textured feel and a lot of of a matte look in terms of color. This material is seen totally on fitted robes, however, we’ve seen a handful of a-lines and it's wonderful as well! 

What we love most about this fabric: 

The weight, feel and structure of fabric will extremely amendment the design of a robe on a body. Before you are attempting on wedding dresses, get a plan of what materials you like. Do you have any items in your wardrobe already that's chiffon? ​Do you love silk? And after you think about your wedding gown, however, does one wish to feel that day? Sometimes the match from of these things can reveal the proper dress that matches you, your temperament and causes you to desire the foremost lovely bride within the world! ​Ask America any queries you've got below or offered us a call/email at the shop! We’ve like to assist you to notice the proper dress and feel this post and this one are nice places to start! Hope to envision to you soon!

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2016 autumn/winter cloak modelling

No matter how mundane, wear a poncho to add body, all became more powerful aura. 2016 autumn/winter fashion week show, cloak is cut a swath of the original, the exaggeration of drama, let a person too many things to see at the same time, also can not help but cheer for the designer’s ideas. More, still can obtain many cloak body collocation inspiration, exciting. As more and more designers talk 3 d creation, has always been eccentric, always do exactly the opposite of Rei Kawakubo (sichuan long bao ling) this season with “advocating plane” as the theme of autumn and winter series. With hypertrophy hem cuff and expansion of oversize cape coat appearance rate is extremely high, Cheap Van Cleef Alhambra Necklace starched tapestry fabric is outline, model costume dolls like card, really attract attention. At the same time, qiu dong series of abandoned the previous black and white, bold attempt the high saturation red, cobalt blue, pink, yellow colour. In addition, camouflage, leopard, polka dot design also become Comme des Garcons different from previous season calm, monotonous characteristic. Show guests after 10 minutes of applause once again shows that sichuan long bao ling can bring unexpected surprises people, look at her show doesn’t have to stick to the trend, in the concept of zero, innate in the mind clothing with empty brain and curious child appreciate, because you never know Rei Kawakubo what will bring you the next second. Yohji Yamamoto (Yohji Yamamoto) shows from a rectangle with fine scaffold material, and painted with bright red, secretly convey a kind of feeling. Dark purple lips, pale makeup look, brilliant color highlights the punk horsetail is the street movements into the wind a little dark gothic and punk rock and roll wind. The conflict and coexistence and Yohji Yamamoto, 2016 autumn winter show a theme. Heavy milling wool cloak is satin teddy and cool silk condole belt, such collocation is reflected the cool and refreshing with massive conflict, conservative and sexy coexistence. Cloak to calf part mostly, irregular clipping and the processing of large collar or exaggerated hat, are Yohji Yamamoto hankers after sense of drama. Domenico Dolce and Stefano Gabbana for Dolce & Gabbana 2016 autumn winter show the colorful visual feast is still being relish, let a person remember cloak of these series. See a cloak of all season long and knee, although most of them adopt the unification of the whole series gold and black fabrics, let people can not help but think of cardinal cassock, after all, the whole show, passing the religious meaning of predisposed to penetrate into the brain. Cloak inside the collocation of nots allow to ignore, in the tight bud silk skirt and sleeve to reveal the baroque funnel-shaped sleeves, let flavour restoring ancient ways is very cape coat more show luxuriant and mystery, seems to be an opera cloak concealed among the most compelling drama conflict, once took off his cloak, conspiracy and secret is also very obvious. Stefano Pilati departure Yves Saint Laurent last show, on schedule and to extend his mood of qiu dong series in 2016. A large number of applications of leather fabrics, meticulous model steel and scarlet lips, these elements combination and become a strong image of the devil wears prada, hale and hearty. In addition to a relatively thin fabric with golden silk edge of brief paragraph cloak, the other three cape are wide size, wide shoulder, big collar, the collar with leather or short hairy fur, all is black, hale and hearty foil of the wide shoulder modelling of Pilati making the image of the amazons travel at night, that picture is charming and mysterious. Anna Sui 2016 autumn winter series of inspiration, so that the surface style is not uniform, but is in such a wide variety, designer Anna Sui will spark to weave a beautiful web, and for her usual brilliant colors and psychedelic. Deep purple velvet cloak, back covered with colorful stone decoration, take in the magnificent national wind; Purple Fake Van Cleef Alhambra Ring cloak of lamb skin small short skirt collocation fastens with color, length just flush, the massive of losing is nifty and lovely, The earth color plaid cloak with a taste of England, and striped shirt and hollow out lace cuff and the collocation of blue silk stockings and give a lot of life to the whole look. Anna Sui always have a way to the fashionable bright express interesting of heavy and complicated, with the taste of national wind and retro, but from a youthful vitality. Michael Kors series of 2016 autumn winters is the theme of the “Rustic – luxe” (country-style costly), today he conceived in the mind a winter forest with Rustic style and luxurious style hut, buffalo grid storage in skin and fox, etc., as usual, he will these elements by presenting his engaging and reality in his clothing. Ladies like their coat showed a tame one side, then showed the Kors plaid long coat and deep v-neck striped carpet cape coat. Red stripe with the hem of the cloak of tassel, then smartly swing between walking, and the echo is red stripe hat, the neck is red and black and white fur adornment, completely fit the theme of a rustic luxury. Frida Giannini said she’s design Gucci autumn and winter haute couture show when the thought of the decadent in the 19th century, and to give qiu dong series set the tone for the dark, but at the same time romantic with confidence. Although cloak proportion in the whole series is not big, but very representative. Cloak that money flowing long cloak may restore the original appearance, the design of the neckline is smoke plait, and by the rope with tassel tie in his chest, tassels hung to the knee, hang down object elegant fabrics and tassel lace added romantic breath, collocation of crocodile leather boots and brocade pants, added a few minutes free and easy temperament. Another hem black cloak of irregular clipping contracted fashion, more fashionable. Consuelo Castiglioni brought Marni 2016 autumn/winter fashion show in the 1960 s, the outline of white silk socks, clothes, low waist, like a metal disk and modification neck decorative element such as big rhinestone brooches strengthened this kind of feeling. Although the two pure black and pure red cloak coat itself has no Cheap Amulette de Cartier Necklace representative in the 60’s geometry color piece, but the cuffs with light color sleeves, white stockings and neckline contrasting colors to decorate, the convey the shades of the overall impact on the vision, brilliant red, white and black are 60 s clothing masters, “the father of futurism” Andre Courreges favourite colour. Low waist belt design and pocket decoration are added a few minutes handsome neat feeling. Rossella Jardini was not involved in the trend of milan, dark blue, she brought a great time to Moschino. Bright-coloured colour and dashing knights style into the whole series, even wide cloak, because use the double-breasted metal and epaulettes, the burnish feels extremely strong fabric foil below, was full of vitality. Blue cloak the front part of the quilting processing, tie-in and same long black quilted leather gloves, a sharp wind immediate. Valentino fashion show of 2016 autumn Fake Cartier Juste un Clou Earrings winters, black leather skirt, shirt, black leather cape white perspective in the opening of amazing, designer Maria Grazia Chiuri and Pier Paolo Piccioli tried to let the hale impression black leather present a softer feel, embossed details before collarband and bosom and bring some ethical gently beautiful impression, but overall modelling is still handsome, elegant, and superior. Another and trousers collocation of long black cloak, choose quality fabrics, contracted and fluent line, the same shirt with white perspective is tie-in, sleeves, collar and the front to show the appropriate proportion of white part, black and white contrast reveals classic.

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Dress newborn In Style Without Revealing The Bank: Eight Easy to Help Save Mon

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Discovering The Answers To Smart Yoga Pants Solutions

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And Eva Green appears to have taken inspiration from the dark fantasy as she left her hotel in central London on Thursday in all black. The Casino Royale star, 36, sported a rock chic look in a blazer, leggings and leather lace-up boots.  Rock chic: Eva Green rocked an all black look in a blazer, leggings and leather lace-up boots Letting her brunette locks flow freely, the French actress accessorised with some funky red shades and a pair of dangling golden necklaces. Eva, keeping her look natural with minimal makeup, flashed a beaming smile as she left her hotel, looking forward to the premiere of her latest film on 25 September.   Appearing at the film's photocall on Wednesday, the Hollywood star took inspiration from her Victorian character as she worked an all black ensemble. Stunning: Letting her brunette locks flow freely, the French actress accessorised with some funky red shades Fashionista: The smiling star added a pair of dangling golden necklaces to her rock chic look The beauty donned a gothic inspired lace full length sleeved shirt that featured a high neck and stylish pussy bow. Slipping into a pair of high-waisted trousers, the Penny Dreadful star highlighted her tiny hourglass frame in the figure flattering pants. Keeping her accessories to a minimum, Eva opted to adorn her fingers with a number of silver rings. The Salvation actress blow dried her raven-coloured shoulder length locks straight. Au natural: Eva kept her look natural with only a touch of make up adorning her features All smiles: She flashed a beaming smile as she left her hotel, looking forward to the premiere of her latest film on 25 September Offsetting her alabaster skin, Eva heavily dusted black eye shadow across her peepers as she added lashings of black eyeliner on her waterline and mascara to accentuate her peepers. While her co-star Ella Purnell, who plays Emma Bloom in movie, cut a stylish figure in a beige suede sleeveless midi as she donned a chic black trench. Injecting height into her petite frame, the Activewear pants 20-year-old slipped into a pair of lace-up stilettos as she worked a soft curl into her chin-length tresses.

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