#ty for sharing your asks wisteria!

[vampcubus]

True. And my ass needs a whimpering Gyutaro, so here we are. Enjoy the submissive thingamabob my half awake brain concocted, dear. Despite his acrid personality and rough appearance, Gyutaro is surprisingly obedient as a sub, often complying without question and rarely ever needing to punished. In fact, his brattier side next to never rears its head unless his day's been particularly bad and he's clinging to that little shred of pride he has. What do you do to tame him then? First off, make sure to restrain him after establishing that he was outright pissing you off. He'll spew vitriol at you, but, as his dom, you know that he was lying through his fucking teeth while being bound by your pretty wisteria soaked ropes. Just stay collected and tack on another punishment by tying a cloth gag around his head. "If you're going to talk to me like that, then little brats like you don't get to speak." Gyutaro won't like that and try to gnaw through the fabric. Pull his hair if he tried, it's a weak spot and it often gets his eyes rolling if you tug roughly on the tuft atop his head. Make sure to tease him for it. When Gyutaro gets bratty, you'll very much need to be a hard dom, making sure to break him to send him to subspace, so being versatile is needed, as one day he'll act like a snuggly bunny rabbit that just wants to rest his head in your lab and the next he'll behave like a rabid St. Bernard dog that's ready to tear off everyone's arms. Manhandling him will come in handy; he internalized the idea of you being fragile, so he's likely to give little to no resistance if you decide to force him into whatever position you see fit, though he will growl and tell you to watch yourself or he'll bite you. The gag method silences that. Mild impact play also works too, plus he likes it. Breaking skin with your nails? He's drooling. Hitting his thigh roughly with a flog? Yes, please, that gets him going. Biting him until he bleeds on the back of his neck or anywhere his black marks are? Moaning like a bitch in heat. Congrats, he's hit subspace. After that, you can go back to being soft, pliant, your sweet boy. As for what type of sub he is normally, he's very much a sub that's built to serve and needs praise with a few rough touches to make him cry out and whine for you to use him as you saw fit. You wanna peg him? He's asking what position. Want him to eat you out? Would you like to sit on his face or have him kneel between your legs? Wanna ride him? Already whimpering in anticipation. He's built to worship you, practically kissing the ground you walk on. Lay on the praise though, he needs it, deserves it, now that he's behaving him, doesn't he deserve to be told he's being good? Of course he does. Gyutaro also cries when he cums, like, no matter if you edge or overstimulate him, he starts sobbing as he blows his load. It feels so good, he can hardly process it, he just feels so loved and warm with you, he can't contain his tears. You adore him enough to make him feel this way, it's overwhelming. He keens and whines if you kiss or lick them away. His sobbing progresses if you keep touching him after, so a safeword might be a good idea if you have trouble telling just when he's been pushed too far. For aftercare, Gyutaro is incredibly clingy coming back to earth. Hold him, shush him, tell him you love him, just...Let him hear and hold onto you, let him bury his head in your chest, he wants the closeness, it's all he's ever craved since meeting you, the feeling of finally being made to feel safe and loved is so priceless. He couldn't ever ask for someone more perfect than you.

ALL THIS FOOD!! 🧎‍♀️tysm for sharing, you’re making me wanna write for him so badddd. i do have a kinktober prompt for him i could be working on…

[xamassed]

⟬ @box-of-characters ⟭

"They're silver burns."

Wisteria finally spoke up as she cautiously bent her hand forward and back, allowing the bandages that she had so meticulously wrapped around a badly scarred wrist to loosen and adjust before tying the ends into a knot. Normally she'd be spitting venom and colorful phrases over someone daring to stare at her, especially in what she considered a vulnerable state, but…. she frankly didn't care now.

The werewolf did not seek pity or comfort, all she wanted was for him to stop worrying. He has done so, so much and more for her despite that nasty standoffish attitude; it was only fair that she open up. At least a little bit.

"Looks pretty, smells like shit… an' one of th' few things tha' can keep a werewolf from tearin' someone's throat out." Nerve after nerve began to flare up in defiance as Wisteria lifted her arm and twisted the wrist that was still exposed, showing Sanji just what she'd been dealing with. "Doesn' hurt much now, but still a pain in the ass. Ya know? Always itchin', actin' up in the cold…"

There was no way he could cease his worrying, but he could sate his curiosity for the moment. There was much he didn't know about her, but every morsel he was given was gratefully taken and cherished because she didn't have to share. He never pressured, he tried only to ask when it felt right — that wasn't to say this was a reward, but he was glad.

"Silver did this?" He glanced from the smooth scars to her face, his own expression tightening with sudden understanding. "Is that why you use your hands to eat?"

He eyed the marks for another moment before before he exhaled sharply through his nose. "Can I ask why it happened?"

[soundofez]

Hello! I cant figure out if i am a bird primary w/a badger truth or a badger primary w/bird model. I prioritize understanding. Finding the truth and connecting with ALL living things. I highly value my independence but i defend all underdogs-including plants and animals. I only ever regret if my actions or words hurt someone, but i will never pretend something is right to spare anothers feelings. Please help?

(heads up, @wisteria-lodge has asked the community if we'd like to help answer asks to get to them more quickly, and this is one that was sent to me! for reference, i'm a birdpri/badgersec with a snakepri model and a whole host of secondary models.)

I prioritize understanding. Finding the truth

understanding and finding truth are extremely birdpri priorities! badgerpris are usually much more straightforward about things like this: what is true is true, and why are we still thinking about it? in other words, truth is still important, but (in my experience) there's not much finding involved.

and connecting with ALL living things. I highly value my independence but i defend all underdogs-including plants and animals.

and those are your truths! truths are important to birdpris, but we're not just completely objective logic machines. our truths can be (and often are) rooted in our instincts of What Feels Right; we are open to being wrong, but that doesn't mean we throw out everything we can't confirm.

so, how often do you examine your beliefs? do you pick over them to find their roots, as the birdpri do? or do you accept them as they are, and focus more on acting upon them, as a badgerpri would?

I only ever regret if my actions or words hurt someone, but i will never pretend something is right to spare anothers feelings.

this part is closer to your secondary house than your primary house! i won't speculate too much, since you don't appear to be looking for help there, but i will quietly wonder whether this might be a human thing and not a house thing <3

final verdict: birdpri+badger truth/solid secondary or badgerpri/birdsec.

[crimsonkenjii-writes]

I dont use tumblr a lot so if this is the wrong. Area? Then sorry lol but I have REQUEST

🌸💖

Giyu x Reader.

Reader, being a naturally touchy person with friends (hand holding/hugs) and still respects boundries, giving Giyu hugs and him enjoying them more over time.

I hope that makes sense oof have a good day uwu 🌸💖🌸💖

You asked for a request in the right area ^^

And it made sense lol this is a really cute request ty ʕ⇀ᴥ↼ʔ♡

Warning I accidentally made it a little long lmao I love writing super soft Giyuu stuff ♡✧ ٩(•̀ᴗ•́)۶

-ˏˋ♥̩͙♥̩̩̥͙♥̩̥̩ ⑅ ⑅ ♥̩̥̩♥̩̩̥͙♥̩͙ˊˎ

-ˏˋ♥̩͙♥̩̩̥͙♥̩̥̩ ⑅ ⑅ ♥̩̥̩♥̩̩̥͙♥̩͙ˊˎ

You’re a very touchy person. You’d always hug your friends, hold hands, give high fives, etc. You were basically always touching someone.

It became known fact amongst all the other slayers that you were very touchy. Which worried Tomioka Giyuu.

He enjoyed your company, he really did, but he was so unfamiliar with physical contact that he always became rigid around it. Giyuu thought it wouldn’t be a big deal because no one ever really talks to him. So you wouldn’t talk to him either, right? No talking, no physical touch. He’d be able to escape the awkward situation without coming off as rude. Giyuu was afraid to tell you not to touch him and that it’d come off rude, make you cry and then everyone would hate him for it. It was all too much for him to handle.

But alas, you gained an interest in the solitary man. Something about him was very charismatic that it drew you in.

-

It was another calm morning as you walked into Master Kagaya’s shared garden. It was open to all slayers, as a way to calm down and just have somewhere quiet to sit for anyone who needed it at any time.

You were walking your usual path until you spotted messy black hair trough the wisteria. You realized it was the Water Hashira and got excited to greet him. You walked around the flower bed calling out to him,

“Tomioka-Saaaannn!! Good morning!!” You put your arms out to give him a hug. Giyuu was surprised because he didn’t expect to see you in the garden. The fact that your arms were held out for him went completely over his head.

“Ah, Y/N, good morn-“ he jolted and his body went rigid. You had trapped him in a hug. He felt his face starting to heat up as he awkwardly stood there, his arms pinned to his sides.

You felt how stiff he went and let go. You stepped back to look him in the eyes while noticing a faint blush spread across his face. “Tomioka-San, do you not like hugs??”

The raven haired man stammered over his words. He didn’t know if he should tell the truth or not. Or maybe just keep quiet?? He was embarrassed of all possible answers that ran through his head.

“I’m…. It’s not that I don’t…. I just…. Don’t…receive them, um, often….” He felt his face burning, he was super embarrassed of this entire situation. The cute slayer approached him in one of his little hideouts, called out his name, hugged him, he went tense instead of hugging back like a normal person, his mind was jumbled.

“Oh, I’m so sorry I hugged you without asking first then!” You apologized, reaching out your hand as comfort but quickly retracted it.

Giyuu looked down at you, seeing that you were genuinely sorry. His heart fluttered as he tried hiding behind his hair. “It’s alright…” he mumbled out

-

Days went by and you and Giyuu were talking a lot more. The entire time you’d always have to catch yourself and restrain from touching Giyuu. You wanted to be able to respect his boundaries and not make him uncomfortable.

However, Giyuu did really crave your touch. He just didn’t know how to go about it. He would stiffen each time and he didn’t know how to find the words to ask you to touch him. Even wording it his head came off weird! He would see you being touchy with everyone else from a distance and would wonder how he could get the same contact.

-

Neither you or Giyuu had a mission today so you both decided to just hang out for the day. You decided to go for a stroll in Kagaya’s garden again. It was quiet, pretty and secluded. It was really nice place to talk with Giyuu.

While in conversation, you made yourself laugh and your hand reached out to Giyuu, holding his arm. You realized and quickly pulled away again.

“Oh I’m sorry, Giyuu” you managed between chuckles.

Giyuu sat quietly, his gears turning in his head.

“You don’t have to be sorry…” he managed out softly. You tilt your head in confusion, waiting for him to elaborate.

“I… don’t mind you being touchy…” he paused for a second and hid deeper in his hair. “It’s nice. I’m just… awkward…”

You smiled brightly. You were glad to hear that he didn’t mind being touched. Not that you thought he was disgusted by you or anything, you understood where he was coming from. Physical touch was just one of your love languages so being able to hug Giyuu would be amazing for you.

“I understand, Giyuu. I’ll help you ease into it! I’ll refrain from hugging but maybe we could eventually greet each other like that everyday!” You beamed brightly, slightly touching his shoulder.

Giyuu looked at you and couldn’t help but let a small smile tug at his lips. He hesitantly placed his hand above yours. “Thank you, Y/N. I’d like that too.”

You heart fluttered and your cheeks started to burn. His hand was harsh and calloused but also at the same time so soft, warm and inviting. And his smile sent a spark through you body. You never realized how rare it actually was for him to smile.

-

You did exactly as your promised and started off with very light touches. Stuff like a hand on his shoulders and arms; little pats on the back; fist bumps and high-fives as greetings.

You even saw a difference in Giyuu. He was starting to become less clenched when you touched him. He was more relaxed and more okay with it. It made you both very happy.

Later on, you were able to side hug Giyuu as a greeting. He became very flustered but still managed to reciprocate.

“Was that okay, Giyuu? It’s wasn’t too much, was it?”

He covered his face with his hand in a bad attempt to hide his blush and looked away, “No… it was fine, Y/N. I liked it…”

-

Months passed and you had gotten really close with Giyuu. It was rare to see you two apart now. You both had grown to really like each other.

Today was another day with Giyuu in the garden. You walked along the gravel pathway. The small stones crunching under your feet with each step. You found Giyuu on his usual bench and ran up to him.

“Giyyuuuu!!” You called out in a singing tone. He smiled and stood up to greet you. This time, both of his arms were out to invite you into a hug. Your heart did a somersault in your chest. You held your arms out as well and dove into him, bringing him into a tight hug. It sent electricity through your body to finally be able to feel his arms around your body this time. His body radiated a comforting warmth and he smelt very good.

“Giyuu!” You looked up at him from his chest, “You greeted me with a hug!!”

Giyuu couldn’t help but let out a small laugh.

“Of course, Y/N. This was the main goal wasn’t it? You helped me get more comfortable with physical affection… Thank you…” he said sheepishly.

You could feel your heart beating out of you chest. He had no right looking and acting that cute. You became flustered and buried your face back into his chest to try and helplessly hide your growing blush. You felt his chest vibrate with his laugh and could also hear his heart beating just as fast.

-

“Y/N.”

You jumped in surprise and turned to see Giyuu. You smiled and went in for a quick hug.

“You dingus, you scared me.” All he did was laugh.

He shifted his weight on his feet and rubbed his thumbs against his fists. You noticed he was acting a bit nervous but didn’t say anything. You thought you’d make him more nervous if you pointed it out.

Giyuu hesitates for a second before speaking, “I wanted to try something else out..” he mutters faintly.

You hum in response, “And what’s that?”

He holds out his hand, waiting for you to also hold out yours. You curiously bring your hand out towards his, thinking maybe it was some sort of new friendship handshake.

He takes a hold of your hand and grazes his thumb across your knuckles. His moves his hand upwards and pushes it against yours, his fingers slowly sliding down yours before they intertwined. He kept his hand there, holding it tightly waiting for your response. You could feel his hand shaking a little.

You eyes sparkle when you look back up at him. Your heart threatened to beat out of your chest. Was this what you thought it was? Was this his subtle way of confessing? Did the man you felt so magnetized to really reciprocate the same feelings you tried to keep hidden away for all these months?

“Giyuu…” you breathe out.

He looks into your eyes, his usual sharp, dulled colored blue eyes were now soft with a hint of shine.

“I’d also like to try something else… if you don’t mind…” he was now speaking barely above a whisper. His face slowly coming closer and closer to yours as his eyes flickered between your eyes and lips.

You breathed out a sigh of satisfaction before both your lips collided, the warmth of the kiss enveloping you both into a state of euphoria. His hand slowly raised to hold the side of your face to deepen the kiss.

“I’ve really grown to like you, Y/N…” he softly spoke just barely above your lips.

“I really like you too, Giyuu…” you replied back in the same volume. Your hand reached up to stroke his messy hair.

[cloudytamaki]

FEELIN’ SEXY.

ft. various boys cw: 14+ content, suggestive w some fluff, characters are 20+ a/n: the horniness manifested in my fingertips. if your blog is dc/nsfw and labeled 18+ or minors dni, do not interact with this post (rb/comment), pls & ty.

a huff of surprise leaves your lips when your back hits the wall, shoto’s hand placed firmly against your sternum. he stands there, looking straight into your eyes until a grin starts to take over your lips, causing him to awkwardly remove his hand and back up. “sorry,” he mutters, turning away to pant. “didn’t mean to do that.” his cheeks flush further as he talks, and your grin only grows.

“baby?” denki asks as he gently pecks your cheek, causing you to pause your spotify playlist and look at him. “hm?” “can i kiss you?” the second you nod, his lips are on yours and he’s pulling you into his lap, his grip on your hips tight as he kisses you desperately.

dancing with izuku; it starts off slow before he starts to spin and dip you, the both of you moving around the dance floor steadily, the only couple left under the bright lights of the dance floor. the song begins to reach its climax, getting slower by the second; the dance finally ends with your forehead against his.

after a dinner with friends, you and izuku are both a little tipsy and giggling in the back of the uber. when you both get back to your house and into the safety of your shared bedroom, you pounce on each other, quite literally. you straddle his waist, and he leans up to kiss you; something mildly stiff presses against your crotch, and a a low curse falls from your lips. he groans, spurred on by the need to feel you as he starts to grind against you. your hips roll against his, pulling a choked groan from him. “c’mon, baby, please. you’re doing so good.”

bothering shoto while he’s on a phone call by sitting on his lap and trailing kisses down his neck; he doesn’t acknowledge you at first, and only sends you a mild glance as he listens to the ‘important’ person on the call. a pleasured sigh slips from his lips when you move to pepper kisses across the soft skin of his collarbone, and the caller doesn’t notice.

katsuki will make out with you anywhere. a highway mcdonald’s bathroom you stopped at for a rest stop during a long trip? yes. the back wall of his hero agency, both your figures masked by the shadows? yes. in fact, that’s one of his favorite places to make out with you. he’ll press you against the brick (rip your back) and just attack you with his lips. it’s kind of scary lmao.

when keigo gets home from work on a bad day, he finds you and practically collapses into your arms. “what’s wrong?” you ask, brushing a bit of hair from his eyes. “long day,” he sighs, moving his head so that his lips ghost faintly against yours, “just kiss me.”

taglist - @uwu-bxtch @wisteria-and-nightshade @thesweetsomali @tooru-luvs @escapenightmare @haley-talks-too-much @rory-cakes @mypimpademia @flattykawadoorusmilkbread @tanzaniiite @boomsammy @itachislut @asaitashi @spookyscaryskeletonn @strwbry-m1lk

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[notmanagingmymischief]

Meadow grass, wisteria, plum, and cinnamon

Oooh

-

Meadow Grass -Laid Back and Caring, easy to get along with, would like to be your friend

I’d love to be more people’s friend! I can be laid back but I’m usually really hyper 😅

-

Wisteria - a little scary but in a cool way, could win in a fight, protective of friends

I like to think I’m a German Shepard when I’m actually more of a pomeranian most of the time, but the second you hurt my friends you better be ready to face hell ( @cordys-babe can attest to that ;) and yes, I can fist fight you and win 😐😌

-

Plum - probably up way past your bedtime, super cool

Oh yeah, I definitely stay up waaaay later than i should lol, but I think I’m kinda cool! ☺️

-

Cinnamon - INSANELY TALENTED, like seriously share some talent, also so nice and warm

I wish I was talented, I don’t think I am but you all seem to 😅

-

ty for the ask lovely!

[dreams-of-the-arcana]

I’ve had the mental image of Fae Cleo in my mind for days so here’s a short fic ❤️ loosely a sequel to this:

Forget-Me-Nots in Our Secret Moment

If you asked any of the villagers out in the Vesuvian forest edge, they’d tell you that the forest did seem more... alive. No one could quite place their finger on the exact changes but something was different. Gatherers seemed to come back with more in their baskets than before. Their known spots for edible fruit or plants almost regrew faster than they had only a short time ago.

Of course, the older residents whispered amongst themselves that it must be Fae influence. Who else could? But they knew that Fae didn’t help for nothing and a growing concern spread amongst them on what was being taken in exchange.

The elders had forbidden their children from going into the forest to seek the Fae.

“The price is always more than you expect!” They warned their offspring from a young age.

“Stay in our part of the forest, leave the Fae to theirs.”

Most listened, some didn’t, it was expected that a few would push the boundary intentionally or not.

What was the threat of a story to a small child faced with a test of courage? What did they expect when the boundary was so vague? When a young person went looking for something and noticed the fruit or flowers over in one area seemed so much better than those closer.

Sometimes they’d wander back after a time, confused or restless. A spark had been lit in their eyes that nothing the small village could match. None of the Fae-Touched, as they were called, stayed in the village for very long.

No one had gone missing though and nothing seemed amiss. So rumors and concern were kept hushed and the elders waited.

Muriel of the Kokhuri might have laughed if he knew what knots the elders were tying themselves in trying to discover the reasons behind the change. But he never did spend much time in the main village.

Lately, he didn’t even spend as much time at home. Khamgalai didn’t ask where he spent his days now, after being sick for so long she assumed he’d found ways to keep himself entertained. A bit of suspicion entered her mind but she trusted that Muriel would talk when he was ready. Because she could see it in his eyes, the touch of the Fae.

Muriel didn’t want to talk about her though. His visits into the woods felt like a secret that he didn’t have to share with anyone. He’d never had a secret before and somehow it made him protective over these rendezvous. Once someone else knew, he’d have to share her and he wasn’t ready for that.

The way through the forest past the boundary had grown softer under his many journeys. A path began behind his little hut in the dense green trees with ferns littering the ground. The big leaves made perfect covers. This part of the forest was darker as the thick trees blocked out most of the sun. The path moved through them and into a less crowded part of the forest. Flowers grew on the floor here and he’d pause to collect a few most days. The little blue Forget-Me-Nots were his favorite but he’d also bring daffodils, or tulips, or rock cress. On good days, he found roses. Beautiful white roses with thick petals and flowers almost the size of his palm.

Today he stopped by the rose bush and found one flowering perfectly, while the rest still waited for the right moment.

Once his small bouquet was in hand, he followed along the small stream towards a clearing. A large weeping willow hung over the stream and beside it laid a small meadow. Red capped mushrooms drew his eye to the circle in the middle where he hurried over to.

Softly he placed the bouquet in the middle, careful to only put his hand in the circle. Then he waited.

Gentle breezes rustled the ground and brought the smell of wisteria to him. In a blink, there she was.

The Fae was called Cleo and looked fairly human in her proportions. That made her inhuman features all the more noticeable. Long red curls fell to her feet and defied gravity, her hair floated around her it seemed. Muriel had never seen skin so pale and under the sun it sparkled. Her ears were long and pointed away from her head and those eyes were impossibly green. Most of that felt like nothing though in comparison with the two curly horns growing a top her head and the pupils of her eyes were slits like a cat.

“Mm, how lovely, Muriel~”

Her voice sounded like music from an instrument he could only dream of.

“The roses you like had a bloom.”

Cleo pulled the rose to her nose and smiled.

“Indeed, it’s beautiful.”

Muriel tried to hide his own smile by reaching into his bag.

“I brought the dessert we talked about last time, the Boortsog. Khamgalai taught me when we settled here. We try to keep the old traditions alive.”

Muriel blushed slightly as he offered the cloth containing the treats to Cleo. She seemed to bounce in excitement and gently took one. A blissful look took over her face once she ate it and she closed her eyes to enjoy the moment.

“... what do you taste?” Muriel absently asked out loud before blushing deeper.

“It’s just that... you always seem to... uh...”

Cleo grinned and let him stumble over his words a moment.

“I taste the sun on the growing grains,” she began. “The earth from where it was born. I can taste the first gentle breeze on the cow’s face. The flowers where the bees gathered pollen to make the honey. In this bite, I taste the energy you put into making these for me. Your hopes that I would enjoy it. It taste like life to me, a life made better with you in it.”

She stared into his eyes with such intensity that Muriel couldn’t dare look away.

Slowly he leaned towards her and she happily met him at the edge of the circle.

When he pressed his lips to hers, he tasted the sweetness of the honey from the boortsog. Muriel’s hand reached up to slip into her hair and rest at the base of her head. Idly he wondered if this was the real Fae food the elders had always warned him about because once he’d tasted Cleo’s lips he never craved others.

Cleo’s kisses were playful and passionate, she gently nipped his lower lip and they both smiled.

Muriel pulled away first, he always had to. Cleo tried to move with him to prolong their contact but stopped at the end of the red caps. He dragged his hand slowly from her hair to cup her jaw where she then twisted to press a small kiss into his palm.

All around them, little blue flowers sprang to life from the earth. In a moment the entire meadow filled with the gentlest forget-me-nots as the lovers shared their secret time.

[mas-o-kissed]

🌸, 🎂, and 💘!!

🌸- what is your favorite flower?

It’s hard to choose but I love chrysanthemums and wisteria and hydrangeas and, of course, ragged robin 😛

🎂- if you had 3 wishes, what would they be?

I’m going to answer this with the stipulation that they have to be selfish and things that are physically possible because if I were actually presented with ANY three wishes I would do intensive research to try to figure out what wishes I could make to help the most people throughout the world but that’s like.. not a FUN answer. Lol.

I’d wish to always have enough money to be able to live comfortably, I’d wish for my bf and I to have the freedom to (safely) travel wherever we want anywhere in the world all the time, and I would wish to live in a nice cozy cottage in the woods by some quaint village.

💘- 3 ways to win your heart?

I don’t really know how to answer this one! I think my bf stole my heart by showing me that he is both passionate and compassionate, by being knowledgeable about the things he cares about and sharing that knowledge with me, and by actually… wanting to know me. I’m used to people valuing me by what I can do for them so the fact that he wanted to get to know me made me feel like I was given permission to become closer with him, u know?

Ty for the ask! ❤️

[black-is-no-colour]

The Story Behind Hamish Bowles’s Maison Margiela Artisanal by John Galliano Met Gala Look

By Hamish Bowles, published by Vogue on 08 May 2019. Photography by Mehdi Lacoste.

John Galliano was always a star. When I started on my Foundation course in the early 1980s at Saint Martin’s School of Art, as it was then known, he was already a supernova of the fashion department, his exquisite drawings setting him on a sure path to becoming an illustrator. He inspired me to decide on a career in fashion rather than costume design (I had been torn), and after the Foundation course, I stayed on at Saint Martin’s to pursue just that. As John worked on his degree collection the following year, he holed up in the college library, hidden behind stacks of reference books that served a double purpose: They defined his private work space and helped to shield his jealously guarded sketches from prying eyes. As it turned out, John had taken inspiration from the Incroyables—the male and female dandies who emerged in the wake of the French Revolution with their own exaggerated versions of revolutionary style. He even burnt the edges of his drawings and dripped candle wax over them to create the illusion that they had been salvaged from an aristocrat’s ransacked mansion.

The collection was sensational—Joan Burstein, who ran Browns, London’s most fashionable boutique, bought it in its entirety. John couldn’t afford a taxi to transport it, so he wheeled it on a dress rail all the way to South Molton Street, where Mrs. B put it in her window and Barbra Streisand and Diana Ross bought pieces right out of it: They were his very first clients. John turned down a job offer to become an illustrator in New York and instead set up his eponymous brand there and then on a wing and a prayer.

I wore pieces from that first collection—waistcoats made from patches of 18th-century-style upholstery silks and sprigged cottons, jersey long johns, and vast organza shirts tying at the throat with a huge jabot. (John has re-created one of these looks to complete an ensemble built around a coat from this collection that the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s costume department has recently acquired and that is showcased in Andrew Bolton’s brilliant “Camp: Notes on Fashion” exhibition.)

The following season, John didn’t have the money to stage a fashion show, so he did a presentation instead in an old artist’s studio off the King’s Road. This collection was based on a 1920s cartoon in the satirical British weekly Punch titled Afghanistan Repudiates Western Ideals, and it explored a collision of Occidental and Afghan dress in John’s characteristically intriguing way. One of my ensembles from this collection—including a knee-length skirt that caused a sensation in Paris when I wore it to the collections that season—is now in the Boston Museum of Fine Art’s exhibition “Gender Bending Fashion.”

As soon as I heard the theme of this year’s Costume Institute show, I thought it would be the perfect moment to work again with John, who has found expression for his unquenchable creative force once more at the Maison Margiela. John had already made me a bias-cut black satin evening suit that evoked Shalom Harlow’s look from his unforgettable Fall 1994 show in Paris socialite Sao Schlumberger’s empty Louis Seize mansion.

To my great delight, John was soon on board. I sent some inspiration images of my eclectic pantheon of camp icons, including Mrs. Slocombe, the character with the Elnett-hairspray-bottle hair in ever-changing pastel hues, from the British sitcom Are You Being Served?; Quentin Crisp; Barbara Cartland; and Jazz Age aesthete Stephen Tennant. Together with John’s partner, Alexis Roche, we looked at looks from the Martin Margiela Artisanal Men’s Spring 2019 collection and isolated some silhouettes that we thought could work for me.

Source: Maison Margiela

At Saint Martin’s, John and I shared an inspirational mutual friend in the indubitably camp form of David Harrison, who was studying in the Fine Art department, had once improbably been scouted to front a punk band to be called the Sex Pistols (Johnny Rotten got the gig), and worked a Teddy Boy look that he accessorized with white winklepicker shoes, a peroxide quiff, and a pom-pom clipped white poodle dyed shocking pink who often appeared in his artworks. John’s studio had produced a frenetic collage print that was worked not only into the clothes but the runway itself, and that incorporated an Yves Klein blue poodle in everything from jacquard to tufted embroidery. I wondered if the poodle couldn’t go pink in homage to our camp friend?

Meanwhile, John’s studio sourced a jacquard cravat in mauve from Charvet, the storied Parisian men’s outfitter, and a selection of textiles in shades of grape and wisteria. (Charvet also made the shirt, and I found some Pepto-Bismol pink cufflinks in my own closet that the sculptor Andrew Logan had made for the John Waters high-camp superstar Divine in 1987. These would be my talismans for the night.)

When I went to Paris for my first fitting, after an initial visit to take measurements, John wasn’t in town, but Raffaele Ilardo, Margiela’s inspired head fitter, and his associate Jung A. Park were there to attend to all the finer points. There was already an amazing sample of the jacquard with the electric-pink poodles, and of the ostrich trim that John had instructed be embellished with metallic lurex threads to catch the light on the red (pink) carpet. (“Invisible to the naked eye but will pop in pictures, trust me,” he said.) Ilardo apprenticed with the legendary tailor Paquito (who carved Karl Lagerfeld’s most amazing suits at Chanel Haute Couture in the ’80s and ’90s), and he had made the most beautiful toiles, with a jacket that sat perfectly on my shoulders without adjustment and had a beautifully constructed rising roll at the top of the sleeves. The cape was constructed like a Victorian visite, with openings for the arms and subtle shaping in back. It was so perfectly constructed that I could have worn the toile itself.

Raffaele Ilardo working on the toile. Photographed by Alexis Roche.

“I advise that cape is rehearsed up and down steps if you can,” said John after he reviewed the fittings videos from afar. “No angle must be left to chance but still must look spontaneous. Every swish must be ingrained in the subconscious, and always imagine that Avedon is following you. A sudden knock at the door works wonders for that frozen-eyes-to-the-left look. Never forget Avedon is your focal point.”

A little over two weeks later, with the clock ticking before the Gala, I returned to Paris for a final fitting with John in the house. To my amazement, the entire ensemble had now been made, including the wide-toed Mary Jane shoes, shown in patent but specially remade for me in violet satin. There were two options of subtly different lilac, for a sheer sock dotted with a point d’esprit effect that was faintly obfuscated by the crushed hairs on my legs and would definitely be showcased, as the short pants hovered only a little below the knee. John gave my lower calves a long, hard look. “You’ll wax them just before the gala,” he instructed firmly. (“Always better when viewed through sheer, tons of moisturizer 15 mins before socks are put on,” he advised nearer the day.)

“It’s unbelievable,” I said when I saw the cape arranged on a tailor’s dummy in John’s light-flooded Margiela atelier. “It’ll only become unbelievable when you start to wear it,” said John. And, sure enough, when I put on the cloak and began walking up and down the studio and it caught the air in its massy volumes, it lifted up like a cloud, and, despite the thick feather fronding, seemed almost as light as one. “La légèreté!” John proclaimed exultantly, “It looks like a canvas, like you’re coming out of a painting.” I used the Margiela staircase to rehearse maneuvering the cape up and down the pink carpet, and I tried to work it from every angle, thinking by turns of Dietrich and Dovima and Proust’s beloved Comtesse Greffulhe. (“I love that little coyness!” said John. “It’s a Dorian Gray moment!”)

I’d asked John’s longtime collaborator and my great friend Stephen Jones for thoughts on something for the head (he concocted the custom top knots for the “Camp” exhibition mannequins) and he designed a wonderful tiara bandeau made of Swarovski crystals that were custom-produced in the required lilac hue and, like those lurex fronds, would add some pink carpet dazzle. John pronounced it a “very cool touch” and suggested “surfer pink” hair to match.”

On the eve of the gala, I submitted to leg waxing and sundry other beautifications (“Lymphatic drainage on face the night before always refines,” John had counseled, and thank you, Tracie Martyn, skin alchemist). On the morn, I went to the Greenwich Hotel to be ministered to by the brilliant Teddy Charles and his assistant Satoshi Ikeda, alongside Amber Valletta, and then I hied up to the St. Regis in a white Maserati to meet John, Alexis, and Raffaele and practice some more swishing and strutting in the hotel’s ballroom under their watchful eyes. “The Japanese kids are going to go mental for it,” said John of my Savile Row meets School Boy meets Comtesse de Castiglione lewk. Stephen fitted the tiara, which perfectly framed those Teddy-tweaked waves.

“Command your space!” said John as I headed out, “Hamish, it will be a riot!” How right he was.

Hamish Bowles at a fitting for his first custom Margiela look in 2018, photographed by Alexis Roche.

Source: Vogue.com

[oxourry]

Hi Oxy! I'm a big fan of your fics! If you don't mind, can I ask which of them is/was your favorite to write? Which is your least favorite? Between Mika and Yuu, who do you prefer writing? I want to assume it's Yuu because he's the protagonist of most of your fics haha

Thank you so much for enjoying my fics! I’m glad! And these are such nice questions ty ksfndfdg

Favorite fic to write: Definitely Hindsight. When I wrote it, the words came super easy to me. I did struggle with characterization because I’m not used to writing canon divergent/alternate timeline fics (I’m so into AUs) but I kind of just winged it by not letting my nerves get the better of me when writing. I do have a desire to rewrite it, but overall, it’s probably my favorite

Least favorite: Barren Heaven. Around the time I started writing the prologue, I felt like the length and all the stuff involved with it overwhelmed me and it broke my writing flow for a while. Even writing it in December, I felt like I was struggling the whole time lol my friends had to encourage me to not give up

And it depends on which fic! Lol in Corner of a Birdcage, Yuu is definitely my favorite to write because his personality is amusing to me. Mika is trickier because he’s a character with a lot of knowledge and I have to be careful with the stuff going on around him so his thoughts won’t let the readers know something I’m not ready for them to know yet. 

Wisteria, I haven’t gotten to Yuu’s POV yet, but in my outline, I already know he’ll be more fun to write... lol if only because Mika’s so cold and unfeeling there, it’s hard to not sound repetitive with certain adjectives since he’s so stoic. Then again, if Mika shares a scene with Yuu, his personality does spark up and it’s fun to write his reactions to the Bullshit Yuu brings to him LOL

Barren Heaven - I honestly just don’t like writing it dkfjndkfjgn so neither win. Yuu’s the protagonist but I loathe writing for it. Maybe Mika would be easier for me to write the story with?

Hindsight and Four’s a Party are oneshots, so I can’t speak much for them.

Thank you again for this ask! Sorry for the rambling but this stuff is fun to answer skfjgndg

[waluweebi]

firstly: did your theme change??? secondly: you reblog so many ask memes omg i love you. also mahogany, blood orange, butterscotch, and wisteria from the color meme

yea i changed both my desktop and mobile theme not too long ago as well as my blog title and “about me” page ^^ ahaha  i love ask thingies (ty btw)!

mahogany: im gay (eyyy me too fam)

blood orange: do u want to share a bowl of macaroni (sure! yknow we could actually do this irl)

butterscotch: i would give you candy if i could (next time i see you i’m bringing you candy just bc of this)

wisteria: i support and believe in u (ty friendo! i support and believe in you too!)

[soundofez]

I might have figured out my primary by accident? I was thinking about WHY I don’t believe in the death penalty, and my immediate reason was that *it doesn’t make sense to me*. What if there was false evidence/a mess up with the forensics/etc.? There’s no coming back form death. It could be a mistake. (Also I don’t really like to/think we should draw the line on when other people kick the bucket, and what deserves that lol) Bird primary?? Haha

(heads up, @wisteria-lodge has asked the community if we'd like to help answer asks to get to them more quickly, and this is one that was sent to me! for reference, i'm a birdpri/badgersec with a snakepri model and a whole host of secondary models.)

I was thinking about WHY I don’t believe

you could have stopped here tbh, that's a birdpri all right! ♥

in the death penalty, and my immediate reason was that *it doesn’t make sense to me*. What if there was false evidence/a mess up with the forensics/etc.?

oof, examining the heavier fundamental beliefs! [birdpri intensifies]

you're acutely aware that humans are fallible, and that fallibility does not inspire your confidence in a permanent, irreversible consequence.

There’s no coming back form death.

yeah.

It could be a mistake. (Also I don’t really like to/think we should draw the line on when other people kick the bucket, and what deserves that lol)

y e a h. i'm with you all the way, anon.

Bird primary?? Haha

bird primary! 🤝