#victorian hand belt

[in-herbones]

My newest 🖤 comes 6/23 @ 3pm pst

[snootyfoxfashion]

Victorian Hands Belt from La Femme En Noir

The Victorian Hands Belt exudes the timeless sophistication of a bygone era. The clasped hands was originally created in the Victorian era and later adopted by Elsa Schiaparelli in her 1934 Fall/Winter show as a nod to the surrealism art movement. This belt had a resurgence of popularity in the 70's proving how timeless this belt truly is. Antique Brass // Silver // Gunmetal

[stygiansiryn]

Victorian Hand Belt

Continue reading Victorian Hand Belt

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

Infernal Shadows 02

Synopsis: Being one of the most powerful overlords in Hell, you like to keep up with colonies and overlord plans. Recently with the new extermination date out, you hold your annual gala sooner than usual. You hadn’t expected to get in the middle of the already heated feud between the Radio Demon and the head of Vox Tech.

Warnings: She/Her pronouns used for the reader, mentions of blood, voodoo?, Angel Dust being a horn-bag, Reader is referred too as Madame to the public. Vox and Alastor feud because I live for it.

Song for this chapter: HAUSER - Adagio (Albinoni)

A/N: I’m so glad part one did well! I really liked this idea and hoped other people would too. As always comment if you want to be tagged and I will tag you in the next post! I wanted this to be three parts, but depending on how much I can fit in this chapter and the next one, I’ll see if I need to make four parts. The song at the beginning of this chapter is meant to be played when the line “ The music picked up” Is read. Skip to 5:35 for it to play smoothly, or as smoothly as possible.

Word count: 3.k or something over that idk I got too lazy to count :(

Taglist: @dollops-of-delusion @nebusokuxp @scrunchss @rosedasy @valluvz @chesstras @pishybowl @iaaeav @forgotten-blues @22carolina08 @roboticsuccubus83 @doflamingadonquixote

Navigation!! // Masterlist!!! // Serendipity Writes (event) // Part One. // Part three.

Within, the grand foyer unveiled itself, revealing a sweeping staircase adorned with a rich, mahogany handrail in stark contrast against a black and white color scheme. Crystal chandeliers, dangling from lofty black ceilings, cast their brilliance upon white walls adorned with ornate mirrors. Plush Victorian-era furnishings, upholstered in rich black and white fabrics, adorned the parlor rooms, establishing cozy settings for guests to assemble and engage in enriching conversations. Each room murmured tales of a past era – intricately patterned black and white wallpaper, frames gilded in black to showcase classical art, and a subtle aroma of aged wood and lavender lingering in the air, harmonizing with the monochromatic elegance. The guests walking in all marveled at the details of the mansion.

Charlotte and Vagatha both stepped in, Charlotte in awe of the detailing. A shadow figure bent down slightly to offer her a drink, to which she happily took.

“Vaggie this is all so beautiful. I hope I can make a good impression.” Charlotte said, turning to her partner to ease her nerves. Vagatha just smiled, a hand on her shoulder lovingly.

“You’re gonna do great babe, besides, there’s so many people here, if one likes it I’m sure other people will get on board too.” Vagatha said.

“Or they can laugh at you if one person points out how ridiculous it is.” Husk said, chugging his drink before placing it back on the servers tray.

“Thanks for the kind words Husk.” Vagatha said sarcastically. He just shrugged, looking towards the bar area which was practically calling him over.

Upstairs in your room, you stared at yourself in the mirror as your shadows made the finishing touches on your outfit. Draped in a long, elegant black gown that gracefully embraced your commanding figure, the fabric cascaded like shadows. Delicate chain motifs intertwine with the dress, creating an alluring dance of darkness. A chain belt cinches your waist, a subtle nod to your captivating ability to ensnare and command over your shadows. Completing the regalia, silver chain cuffs adorn your wrists, reflecting both power and refinement.

“Madame, the guests are all in the lobby awaiting your arrival.” One of the shadows said. You nodded, stepping down from your showcase, winking to yourself in the mirror before chuckling to yourself. A shadow approaches you, bowing in respect before holding out a tray with your drink, a contrast to your dark colors. You take the glass in your hand, another shadow lightly putting a thermometer in your drink so it’s the perfect temperature for you, fifteen point five degrees Celsius. The liquid is a light yellow-ish green, Lafite-Rothschild, an expensive French wine you tried in 1906 when you were alive. Lifting it to your lips, you take a long sip and sigh, the spicy and earth notes, mixed with a hint of tobacco and red Barrie’s dance on your tongue like a performance of Gavotte. You pull back with a sigh, setting the glass down, a perfect Ridel Vinum Bordeaux, personally crafted for you as the bottom of the glass is a Smokey black, fading into clear glass towards the top.

“Let’s get this Gala started shall we~?”

In the lobby, guests were socializing amongst themselves. Velvet, Vox and Valentino had split for a short while. After the incident outside, the two overlords wouldn’t stop tantalizing the picture box about his fit of frustration dealing with the Radio Demon. From the lobby, there were large crystal doors revealing the back exterior of the house. The greenery was just perfect, with cobblestone flooring revealing another bloody fountain. Vox stood with his drink, speaking to some sinner he couldn’t remember the name of, about how well his business was going.

“You ever get,” Vox asked, eyeing one of the shadows who stood in a corner, white eyes soulless as they held out drinks to guests. “Creeped out by those, things?” Vox asked, turning back to the sinner. He just scoffed.

“Please, they’re always around and as far as I know, harmless.” The sinner said. At that, a shadow appeared between the two, taking their empty glasses and replacing it with new, full ones. Vox tried his hardest not to seem alarmed at this, and took the glass silently, sipping his drink slowly as it floated away. It was then he took in the shadows appearance. They all looked the same. Tall figures, Smokey outlines, but no feel or hands, just a faded end to their limbs. Their eyes were white and soulless, almost as it they were vacant, a shell of what they used to be. There were no facial features, just two white circles and a thin white line for their mouth. Each one however, had a light Smokey chain around their chest, wrapped in the shape of an X.

“What are the chains for then? They’re pretty much smoke, what do they need chains forever?” Vox asked. The associate laughed, but before he could answer, another overlord stepped in.

“They have chains because they’re claimed souls.” Fredrick Von Eldritch says, his sister Bethesda in toe. The two grin, a shadow following behind them with a tray of their drinks. “If you get invited to the gala long enough, you get a personal one.” He said with a wink, gesturing to the shadow behind the two.

“They’re quite cute once you get used to them.” Bethesda said with a smile, cooing at the shadow lightly. Yet, it still remained expressionless.

“Actually, now that you say that.” The sinner says, looking around for a moment. “It’s been awfully quiet with a laugh track being played.” He says, referring to Alastor. Vox just rolls his eyes.

“Who gives a shit about where that old timey freak is?” Vox asks. Fredrick and Bethesda snicker to each other, catching Vox’s attention.

“Probably hunting for his dear Madame.” Bethesda said dramatically, laying her head on her brothers shoulder and batting her lashes playfully. Fredrick and the sinner laughed at his sisters antics, but Vox grew serious.

“What does that mean? He knows her?” Vox asked, to which Fredrick scoffed, finishing his drink before reaching for another off the shadows server tray.

“Of course he does. She died before him, and they’re the closest overlords in time period. Well, aside from Zestial and her.” Fredrick explained. Vox didn’t say anything else, instead looking to the red ‘moon’ of hell, before glancing at the blood fountain. He had heard rumors about being at the Madame’s table, and how she gave the inside to all her projects and plans before the next extermination. Apparently, this year was supposed to be ‘different’ as people had been talking.

“When does this dinner start anyway? We’ve been standing out here for two hours.” Vox said annoyed.

“In a few minutes, Madame will make her grand entrance. She will socialize with the guests as it is polite to have one on one time with them. Then she will spend the rest of the time while the orchestra gets together deciding on contenders to sit at her table.” A shadow walking by said, stopping to stare at Vox. “Madame is always watching.” It then said, turning to serve other guests. Vox said nothing, instead turning on his heel and making his way inside the mansion. How could someone feel suffocated outside? Fredrick and Bethesda said nothing, watching him go, but sharing a glance between each other before making their leave too, leaving the sinner all by his lonesome.

Inside, Charlotte and Vagatha conversed about how she could get people behind her project.

“Maybe if I sing-“

“Please no. These people are too…” Vagatha said, glancing around the room. Everyone seemed too, fake. Vagatha knew Charlotte being herself around these people would do absolutely no good to the hotel, and though she hated telling Charlotte these things, she knew her kindness would be frowned upon, and made fun of. “Serious for that kind of thing.” Vagatha finished, taking a sip of her champagne. She settled for champagne in a flute while Charlotte drank water, wanting to hydrate herself in hopes to calm her nerves.

“I heard that Madame might be making her entrance soon.” Charlotte said nervously, looking around. She half expected her parents to show up, but knew how they rarely liked getting involved in overlord affairs. She’d be surprised if they showed up.

“Then when she does you can try to pitch your idea to her.” Vagatha said supportively. Charlotte just smiled and nodded, hoping someone would listen to her. She had tried practicing on two sinners moments ago, to which they both laughed and called her delusional. The defeat was beginning to get to her, and she hadn’t even started yet.

With Velvet, she began studying the interior of the old-styled mansion. She was trying her hardest to not be too rude about it, but of course she had her comments, but ultimately kept them to herself. Cramoisie, your fashion line, was the top fashion brand in hell, everyone wanted a piece of it. Velvet had never had an article for herself, despite trying her hardest to get something, anything, even a sample. But people feigned for it like drugs. Velvets line was successful sure, but with your validation and guidance, she could become perfection, the same way you were. Everyone in hell looked up to you, shit, you had even gotten Lilith’s praise as she was photographed wearing a custom piece you designed for her. Your work was art in its purist form, and Velvet kept a close eye on her other colleagues to make sure they didn’t fuck your chance up. Velvet had her assistant hold samples and sketches of designs Velvet had been working on, wanting to show you her best work in hopes of winning you over. She could brag about having you support her line, and her fans would die of excitement. Maybe, she could get you to design her a custom piece, or Velvet could design one for you. The possibilities were limitless, if you agreed to meet with her of course. But that was all the more reason why she needed to make sure she had a seat at your table tonight. She needed to get close to you.

“Are you fucking high?” Velvet whispered to Valentino, who just chuckled softly at her.

“What’s the matter hermosa? Just enjoy the Gala, we’re here to have fun right?” He asked with a giggle. Velvet huffed, deciding to find Vox, hoping he could straighten Valentino out. Valentino would not fuck up her chance tonight.

Near the large staircase in the middle of the room, Alastor stood, glass of whiskey in his clawed hands. He smiles, humming to himself while quietly back up into a wall, careful to scan the room quickly before he disappears into the shadows. Then, moments later, appears in a room separate from the gala. It’s a study, your study. Alastor takes a step forward and quickly the shadows in the room seemed to deepen, casting larger, more dramatic silhouettes that seemed to dance on the walls. The interplay of darkness and light only heightened the mysterious allure of the study. In the midst of this chiaroscuro ambiance, Alastor found himself surrounded by an atmosphere that mirrored the complex nature of the figure depicted in the portrait hanging above the fireplace, which was in the far back wall of the study. It was the only light source in the room. Black wooden shelves lined against the tall walls, showcasing famous pieces of literature, all hand picked and to your liking. The fire place, crafted with dark marble, commanded his attention. Above the mantel, a striking portrait of Madame hung, capturing his focus, like a trance. The image portrayed a being universally admired, yet equally feared; someone who elicited both admiration and intimidation all at once, you.

“Hm, hiding now are we?” Alastor asks with a grin, tutting lightly. “That’s not very proper of you Madame~” He says, calling out to you. Seconds later, a dark shadow appears in the corner of the room, taking up the entire corner, before a shadowy figure steps out. Similar to the servant’s out in the lobby, Alastor’s eye twitch’s slightly.

“Oh don’t be so pissy. You know no one gets to see me before my entrance.” You say, the shadow expressionless, but Alastor can hear your tone through the figure, taunting him. He sighs, setting his staff on a slant along his foot.

“And here I thought I could connect with an old friend.” Alastor said with a chuckle, staring down the shadowy figure, hoping his gaze would ease you to show yourself to him. But alas, stuck in your ways, you didn’t show yourself, instead laughing, though the figure did not open its mouth, making your ‘shadow a-presence’ all the more eerie.

“If you really want to speak with me it can wait until my entrance. I should be done soon.” You say, before Alastor just smiles, tossing his staff from hand to hand.

“Well if you’re really going to make me wait, mind you speed the process up a bit? You know it doesn’t take much to make you look breath-taking.” Alastor compliments, but earns a scoff from you.

“Oh please, don’t start with me ‘Radio Demon.’” You mock, before the shadow figure begins to step back.

“Wait, a moment before you go.” Alastor says, standing his staff on the floor. The shadow figure stops, before you speak again.

“Make it quick. You know how much energy it takes to keep this up.” You say.

“So, about this hotel business. I know she’s planning to talk to you about it.”

“Yes the idea you tell me so much about.” You say sarcastically. Alastor had told you bits and pieces about the princess’s project, but didn’t tell you what it was for exactly, leaving you to wonder how important it really was if even he wouldn’t speak on it.

“Well you know how much I crave entertainment. Is it possible to make a request for the seating arraignment tonight?” Alastor asks. You laugh, figure still unmoving.

“Humorous to think you even have a seat. You’ve been gone for what? Seven years?” You say with a scoff.

“You’ve been gone decades my dear, you didn’t even show up to your last twenty gala’s, having your pity shadows do it for you. I doubt you should be speaking on the matter.”

At that, you chuckle to yourself before the shadow begins to back into the corner, black smoke enveloping the corner like a cloud. “I presume you would be correct. Well, I’m off now. Don’t sneak into my quarters again.” You say finally before disappearing. Alastor just grins, stepping into his own shadow, joining the other guests.

The shadows had slowly but, eventually ushered the guests into the lobby, everyone gathering around the staircase as the shadows lined up against the railings, the orchestra playing the music you had specifically requested. You were about to make your grand entrance, something you hadn’t done in centuries. Everyone stood around, awaiting your arrival, the shadows momentarily disappearing to give the guests more space to crowd around. Candles lit along the walls, as well as floating lights appearing going up the staircase. There, the shadows took their place, two on each step on opposite sides, facing each other. The music picked up, the lights focusing at the top of the stairs. Black smoke began to roll down the steps slowly, the anticipation for your arrival growing. The music gets calm for a moment, a larger shadow figure standing at the top of the staircase. It’s larger than any of the other shadows in the room, standing at fifteen feet tall. It speaks in a monotone voice, but loud and commanding.

“Thank you all for your attendance tonight. The Crimson Gala is held once every year to start the new year with all those who survived the extermination. This being said, Madame would like to say her personal congratulations for not being apart of the bloodshed this year. While the past years she has used me to say that she will unfortunately not be in attendance, I am pleased to say that tonight, along with all the new guests, she will make her grand entrance. Presenting to you, the prowess of darkness and queen of shadows, Madame.”

The lights shine bright, and the shadow vanishes quickly. Velvet shushes Vox and Valentino, eyes practically bulging out of her skull to see you. Alastor just stares, waiting in anticipation. Charlie claps her hands quietly to herself while Vaggie just smiles. Rosie sips her glass, eyes waiting to see what outfit you’ve put together this time. At the top of the staircase, a large black smokey circle opens at the bottom of the floor, smoke swirling upwards slowly in a tornado form, smoke getting quicker as it swirls around itself. It gets larger, and guests closer to the stairs have to back up a bit as the wind picks up. Carmilla turns her face to the side, not wanting the wind to mess up her hair too much. Finally, the music picks up again, the peak point in the song, which lasts eight seconds, before the smoke falls to the side in one swoop, leaving you in the midst, now on display for all guests to see. The music continues, the chains against your dress glistening under the light. The music continues the play as you take steps down, looking at the guests. There’s a serious expression on your face, but somehow neutral all the same. Your shadows had added last minute black lace gloves, which went up to your forearm. The bottom of your dress had a lace trimming, as well as the bodice being laced with trim along the bust area. The jewelry was a simple black diamond crystal on a metal chain around your neck, paired with black diamond earrings. The cuff links on your hand remained all the same though. Finally reaching the end of the steps, everyone clapped, now finally being graced with your presence.

Velvet was in awe, staring at you with wide eyes like a child being gifted the most precious thing. Her excitement grew enormously, watching you shake hands and socialize with guests. She had never seen you before, after you had gone ghost for centuries, hardly anyone had photos of you. Hell she didn’t even know what you sounded like.

Charlie was so excited to meet you. She hadn’t seen you in, forever, and was now finally excited to be seen as your equal. Well, that was what she had hoped at least. Having seen a portrait of you in her parents' home when she was younger, she learned of the close relationship between Lilith and you. The anticipation had built over the years, and now, finally, she looked forward to being seen as your equal. Her hope was to hopefully get your support for the hotel, aiming to elevate her standing in the eyes of others. With your backing, she believed people would take both her and the redemption project more seriously, fostering a genuine desire for redemption. Maybe it would even work.

Husk smiled as he watched you socialize with guests. He was glad to finally see you back out again. He never knew why you went into hiding of course, but he never had the balls to ask, so he just stood quiet. When you disappeared, it was after a particularly rough extermination, and he knew something had happened, he just didn’t know what. Since then, the world only had glimpses of you to go on. Some sinners were starting to think you were a myth, since you never showed your face at the Crimson Gala, especially since you were the host.

Vox was taken aback, a sense of confusion and unease settling within him. Your presence had caught him off guard; he had anticipated something different, perhaps an older figure. The unexpected impact left him feeling uneasy, realizing the gravity of your influence. It dawned on him why Velvet had stressed the importance of making a favorable impression. Apart from Zestial and the twins, you stood as one of the strongest and most enduring overlords. In Vox's mind, securing your alliance was imperative for the success of his company. Your potential support would make his endeavors foolproof. Everything had to be flawless – not for any personal reasons, of course, but solely for the sake of his company. He needed you.

Making your rounds to guests, you began to get closer to your colleagues. With a wave to Stolas, and a nod to Zeezie, you run into the Radio Demon himself, Alastor. He grins, sharp teeth getting you. He smiles and nods his head, and you nod back. Alastor takes in your stoic expression, before carefully taking in your outfit.

“My, my, Madame, you’ve truly outdone yourself tonight. Your choice in attire is as captivating as ever – a perfect blend of elegance and sensibility. Quite the spectacle for the grand event, don’t you think?” He asked, holding his arm out to you. You take it, and the two of you walk around the lobby together, conversing.

“Well you don’t look to bad for yourself. Maybe going into hibernation was perfect for you.” You say back, and he grins.

“You’re too kind darling.” He says, dead heart quickening. He puts a hand to his chest, mocking fragility. “Your words leave me breathless my dear.” He says with false dramatics. You roll your eyes and smack his arm playfully.

“Oh please, your ego is quite large enough already, yes?” You ask. He doesn’t say much else, but instead, gently moves you to the side while you look at your shadows, now waltzing around in the middle of the lobby, putting on a performance.

“Did you plan that?” Alastor asks. You shake your head.

“No, but the music is perfect for it, so I let them be. They’re already trapped with me, I might as well make them useful.” You say, and Alastor just hums, a laugh track playing. However, as the two of you walk, his track screeches to a halt upon seeing Vox approach the two of you.

“Madame.” Vox says, nodding his head. His expression is serious, and though you’ve heard of him, you’ve never seen him.

“Ah hello. Vox I presume?” You ask, free hand reaching forward to shake his own outstretched hand. The two of you shake hands, and Alastor can’t ignore the way he fights to keep his smile. Why he could just shove his staff right into that flace faced fuckers scree-

“Alastor, I suppose you’ve met Mr.Vox before, correct?” You ask. Alastor nods with a smile, and you notice the way it stretches almost painfully across his face. It makes you uneasy, but you ignore the feeling. He’d surely tell about what this is about later on in the night you supposed.

“Why yes we have! I’ve made him loose his signal quite a few times.” Alastor says with a laugh, his laugh track playing. Vox doesnt say anything, though he doesnt have too as his eye twitching had given enough away. The two clearly did not like each other. Than again, you had felt the same way about Alastor when you first met him, so the feeling was understandable.

“Madame, a dance?” Vox asked, turning his attention back to you. You thought for a moment, before untangling your arm from Alastors and nodding to Vox, taking his outstretched hand to you and leading you to the dance floor, which now had a couple other sinners dancing as well. Alastor held onto his staff tight, but relaxed as you discreetly slid him a card. In white with black lettering, cursive font. Seat number five. He was invited to your table. Guaranteed a seat. That was enough to have him back in light spirits, now searching out his dear friend Rosie to share the good news.

Velvet had been looking for you all over, her assistant close in toe. She had tried her hardest to get to you when you initially made your enterance, but alas you had been too overcrowded with people for her to get to you. She had heard rumors about how you hated rudeness and disrespect. That meant no interruptions, and no loud speaking, or vulgar language. She was sure to keep herself in check, and that meant her colleagues too. So, naturally, you could imagine her shock upon seeing Vox dancing with you on the dance floor, black dress twirling at your feet. You looked so regal, so elegant, flawless. She wanted to be just like you. She waited patiently on the sidelines, waiting for the dance to end. She could see the two of you having a conversation, but couldn’t pinpoint what about.

“So, I presume you’re one of the, newer overlords?” You asked as the two of you danced. Vox chuckled, leading you slowly.

“New? Well, maybe to you I would be. I heard you haven’t really left your own head for quite some time.” Vox says lowly. You nod, letting him dip you.

“Yes that would be correct. So what are you supposed to be exactly?” You ask, quite unsure of his purpose. Overlords are meant to have a strong leading purpose in hell, so what was his?

“Well, you’re looking at the head of Vox Tech. A software company.” He says, and you hum in understanding.

“So modern technology.” You confirm, and he nods, pearly whites shining brightly back at you.

“You’re looking at the future Madame.” Vox says, spinning you quickly, before bringing you close by your hip.

“Interesting. So, what’s your social influence?” You ask. Vox thinks for a moment, before laughing to himself.

“People have televisions in all their homes. Any piece of modern technology comes strictly from me. With a little mind control, there isn’t any influence I don’t have.” Vox says, noticing a sinner walk by with a smart watch, to which he holds a finger up to you, sending himself through it, and then to another sinner with their smartphone, making his way around the room in seconds before he’s back in front of you, stepping in time for the next number. “See? Nothing I can’t do.” He says with a wink. You nod slowly, looking around the room. Being back out in the spotlight after being gone for so long makes you feel a bit, behind. But with an overlord like this in your circle, maybe this could be a way for you to keep up with the current world, get you back up to pace. The dance finally comes to a close, and the two of you bow to one another, before you summon a card, handing it to Vox. Seat number nine. Vox grinned at you, giving you a nod. You nod back, before looking at another sinner who’s asked to speak with you. With that, you leave Vox at the dance floor, white card in hand. His spot at your table was secured. But, this made his emotions churn even more. What was this feeling he had? He was happy yes, but for the companies sake. But, maybe for once, he could mix just a little business with pleasure.

Charlotte had lost her partner at the bar and had been looking for her for quite some time. However, instead of finding Vagatha, she found you instead. You had seemed to be finishing a conversation with Vox, and though she disliked him, she took her chance the moment she saw you walking away.

“Excuse me, Madame- Miss- Um.” Charlotte said quickly, causing you to stop in your tracks. She got closer to you, now a few inches away. It was then she realized how tall you were compared to her. You were easily around seven feet, or just under that. With your heels that was. You looking down at her made her feel intimidated, small, like the child. But, feeling her nerves rise, she began to ramble again. “I know you probably have a lot to do tonight and I don’t want to take up your time, I just want you to hear me out, if that’s okay with you of course.” Charlotte said quickly, pausing to inhale. You narrowed your eyes at her, snapping your fingers and causing a shadow to appear next to you, singular glass on the tray. It was the same tall shadow from earlier, with the same drink. Again, using testing the temperature of the drink, before nodding to you so you could take it. You lifted the glass to your lips, maintaining eye contact with Charlotte as you drank the wine in one go, putting it down on the tray with a sigh.

“Go on.” You replied, now intrigued. You knew who she was. “You’re the girl with the hotel? Lucifer and Lilith’s child, correct?” You asked. Charlotte smiled, stars appearing in her eyes as she gushed.

“You know who I am?” She asked surprised. You nodded, cracking a small smile for the first time tonight, causing many eyes to stare in shock. You hardly ever smiled. In fact, there were three counts ever of you smiling in hell. Once, when you first got to hell, killing and claiming territory, and smiling once you finally settled down. The second being after World War One, when so many souls came to you seeking ‘help’ yet only being met with contracts. Third, being just before the extermination you disappeared after. You had gone through your belongings from Earth that managed to get brought to you from the surface, and was looking at family photos with one other overlord. Zestial. Now, at the gala, here was Lucifer’s brat, as some would call, making you crack a grin at her giddiness.

“Of course I know who you are. Do you forget I know your mother? You’re practically a niece of mine at this point.” You say, motioning at Charlotte to walk with you. “Now, what is this hotel I’ve heard about?” You ask. She beams at this and follows excitedly.

“OkaysobasicallyIhavethishotelandit’scalledthe’HazbinHotel’whichisforsinnerswhowantobebetterandredeemthemselvestotryand-“ You stopped her, allowing her to take a breath of air after rambling for so long. You lead her outside, finding a nearby bench to sit on. With how quickly she spoke, she needed all the ��fresh’ air she could get right?

“Why are you speaking so quickly? Also, sinners who want to better themselves? Where would you find those?” You ask with a laugh, the same tall shadow appearing with a glass for you. Again, you sip on your drink as Charlotte collects herself together.

“Usually if I explain slowly people cut me off and I never get to finish, so I’ve gotten used to just saying everything as quickly as possible so they don’t cut me off and actually listen to what I have to say.” Charlotte says, again rather quickly. “Like I was saying; the Hazbin Hotel is a place for sinners who want to better themselves to possibly try to get into heaven through redemption, and I know what you’re thinking, we’ve all died and got sent here, but I believe people can change and that everyone deserves second chances.” Charlotte explained. She saw the look of confusion on your face, and began to speak again. “We already have two residents, who are making strides to be better people every day with group activities and I believe it’s working. If I could just get other people on board, people like you on board who actually believe in my cause, then we can get rid of extermination and maybe save some people here.” Charlotte explained. You thought for a moment, and the fact you hadn’t laughed in her face yet gave her some hope that maybe she had gotten through to you. You stood up, setting your empty glass on the tray before the shadow disappeared.

“Honestly,” You said with a sigh, looking around, your eyes landing on your shadows serving other guests. “The entire project sounds delusional.” You said sharply. Charlotte looked down at this, defeated, before standing as well.

“Well, thank you for hearing me out I guess. You’re the only other person who has aside from Alastor. So, thank you for your time.” Charlotte said, turning to walk back inside the gala, head hanging low with tears brimming her eyes. Maybe it was the connection to her mother, maybe it was because she reminded you of her mother. But, something had to change.

“I didn’t say we were done speaking Charlotte.” You said sharply again. She stopped and tensed up at that, before turning around, wiping a tear that slipped down her cheek.

“W-what?” She asked. You stepped forward to her, putting your hands flat together before smoke encased them. Then seconds later it was gone, and in your hands was a white card. You handed it to her with a nod.

“It sounds delusional. But, maybe someone will like that about you.” You said. She read the card, face dropping once she realized what it meant.

“So, so I can sit with you tonight? I can pitch my idea?” She asked excitedly. You nodded, patting her shoulder.

“Yes you may. I’ll allow you to have your time. You get thirty minutes, there will be overlords and royalty there, I’m sure someone is bound to take an interest in it.” You say. Charlotte squeals excitedly before jumping up and down, clapping her hands.

“Oh my goodness! Thank you so so so much!! You won’t regret this I swear!” Charlotte said, and you just nodded.

“Of course I won’t. I don’t make mistakes.” You say, before walking past her. “Oh, and thank Alastor for that. He was insistent you be present at my table tonight.” You say to her. She’s left standing outside in shock, watching as you walk back into the lobby to socialize with other guests.

It seemed Velvet had finally caught you, rushing her assistant to follow you as she made her way over to you.

“Madame, you look absolutely breathtaking tonight! Your presence here is like a beacon of individuality and charisma,” she exclaims, eyes sparkling. You look her up and down for a moment, stopping in your tracks to listen to her. Something feels, odd about this one. “I’ve been ardently following your unique style for ages, and it’s truly an honor to be in your presence. The way you effortlessly blend boldness with subtlety, it’s unparalleled, truly outstanding. Now, I’ve ventured into a daring new fashion brand, and I can’t help but envision you as the unrivaled star in my collection. Picture it: the illustrious Madame, gracing the world with a revolutionary expression of style. This would be the perfect way to make your way back into the public eye, and of course you would look ravishing doing so.” Velvet said, her assistant handing you sketches of Velvets designs, and photographs of some of her work on her models. “So, what do you say Madame? Will you be the luminary of a new era in Hell’s fashion?” Velvet says. You grow quiet for a moment. Aside from Rosie, you’ve had no other overlord come into the fashion realm, and Rosie is only partially in it as a side hustle, but everyone knows it’s your thing. The designs are things you would never wear, bold and odd colors together, like a child’s clothing line.

“Is this for children?” You ask. Velvet nearly chokes and her assistant tenses up.

“No Madame. It’s modern fashion.” Velvet says cautiously. She knows what she’s doing. Correcting you. No one ever does that. You don’t need to be corrected because you know what you’re looking at. A sad fashion designer who wants you to slap your name on her sloppy work so if it goes up in flames it’s your reputation taking the fall, not her’s.

“So all your models look like they came from a whore house? Correct?” You ask. Velvet’s jaw drops and her assistant hides a laugh. Velvet, inhaling softly, tries her hardest not to cry on the spot. You’re her idol. She can’t fuck this up.

“No Madame! Not at all!” She says, showing you a design she had made personally for you. Based on your other collections, she knows your favorite color is black, so that’s a plus. All she had to do was add a bit more, of her flair to it. It was a black jumpsuit, with a fur coat that dropped down to the knees, black with white fur around the edges of the coat and the cuffs. The sketch wasn’t half bad, and quite frankly better than the others. Maybe it was the forgiving mood Charlotte had put you in. Velvet hands you the design and you skim over it, taking in the details, the hair and eye makeup, the shoes and jewelry notes written on the side. The sketches aren’t bad, but modern fashion isn’t your fashion.

“I’ll consider it. Do you mind if I keep these?” You ask. Velvet shakes her head, handing you the folder from her assistants hands.

“Please, take whatever you’d like Madame!” Velvet says. You nod, flipping through the pages.

“You’ll hear from me soon. In the meantime, I want new sketches of these designs. Modern fashion is fast fashion. Nothing stays memorable that way. You want to be good?” You ask her, and she nods quickly. “Then be better. Modesty and elegance are what people strive for. It radiates power, and everyone is greedy for that. If you can sell that through an item, you won’t ever go out of style.” You say, handing her back the folder, keeping the sketch she’d done for you. Well, at least you liked something. Vevelt nodded her head and watched you walk away, letting out a sigh of relief.

“Um, miss?” Her assistant asked.

“What?” Velvet asked annoyingly.

“She left a card on the folder.”

At that , Velvets eyes snapped down at the folder, before she screamed in excitement. Seat number six. She was invited to your table. Mission accomplished. Now, with only six seats left to fill, you were off to talk to your other guests. The night had proved to be interesting, and you knew your encore would not disappoint.

[shortnotsweet]

This technically applies to my Stepmother AU in which Alicent is around six years older than Rhaenyra, and occupies a wicked stepmother role as opposed to ex ‘friends-to-first loves-to-enemies’. Despite lacking the foundation of shared girlhood, both find simultaneous comfort and rivalry in one another, and undergo a gravitational pull. A young Rhaenyra’s eagerness to participate in swordplay and political affairs at a young is accommodated for, and she grows up with a sword in one hand and the weight of experience in another, which further helps pave her way to the throne.

Alicent’s Costuming

Alicent’s clothing is almost entirely bottle, emerald, or forest green. While there is layering present in her skirts and jackets, the accent should always be a darker green than the base color. The fabric is deep, rich, and retains an undeniably high-quality luster. Look to velvets and silks. Gold embroidery lingers around her sleeves, neck, and hemline to elevate the coloring.

Metallic embellishments should be almost military-like, and appear heavy. Contribute to the imagery of chains or shackles in addition to her status

Draws inspiration from historically accurate stiffness and Victorian shapes, with a tapered waist, imposing, puffy sleeves, and a high neckline. Despite inaccuracies, this shape is evocative of someone elegantly and conservatively feminine, repressed, and capable of exerting power over others. Reference a classic, trussed hourglass shape. Skirts should be notably heavy and full; may make noise in movement

The coloring and shapes remain relatively consistent but lack variation; this is to demonstrate a lack of freedom and exploration, as well as an adherence to conventional feminine roles

Despite these limitations, her costuming should always be put-together, coordinated, and unquestionably fashionable. Tight sleeve cuffs may be accompanied by a more traditionally medieval fan sleeve

Shoes should stick mostly to slippers, or flat designs

In this AU, her hair leans more towards a dark brown instead of auburn, as her show counterpart. This is mostly due to faux-book accuracy and to simplify the sketch process, since keeping her hair darker in comparison to Rhaenyra’s lighter hair translates more easily in uncolored renderings.

Keep her hair either in a tidy bun or pulled back and loose; avoid too many intricate shapes, braids, or styles. Occasionally, the hair will hang loose. Lean into medieval or royal headpieces, clips, coverings, etc.

Rhaenyra’s Costuming

Rhaenyra’s clothes are primarily black and red, occasionally accented or substituted with neutrals such as beige, white, or gray. Exceptions may include blue or yellow, but she generally stays in this color palette.

Strong focus is drawn to her shoulders and neckline, sometimes with embroidered or embellished detailing. She often has strong, angular shoulders in her dresses or jackets, occasionally theatrically pointed. Off-the shoulder necklines emphasize her collarbones and a certain broadness.

There should be decent variety in her clothing; there is a hypothetical outfit for every occasion and more (for battle, for riding, everyday, formal, feasts, everyday, etc.), and most should be composed of multiple pieces and utilize generous layering. This includes under-fabric, belts and corsets, jackets and doublets, draped fabric for aesthetic purpose, and even functional capes.

Most of her clothes should provide visual aid for movement; additional fabric to her skirts, for example. Her clothes should be highly stylized but still easy to move in. In riding and battle gear, it is presumed that she wears pants and boots under her skirts, even if they are not visible.

Shoes lean more into boot cuts, still practical but should have a sleek and uniform quality to them. When she walks, she should make some kind of noise. Shoes should usually be black or potentially red, the latter for decorative purposes.

Overall her style should be more contemporary and lean into the fantasy element. She’s not opposed to oriental details or showing skin, and her costumes should reflect both couture-height drama and period-reliant aspects. Longer lines and diagonal hems mean she is not as devoted to an hourglass shape, and her high collars should always be decorative in some respect.

Keep her hair long and mostly loose, sometimes pulled back. Small braids should be implied as incorporated. Occasional hairstyles feature complicated braids. With the exception of highly decorative braided styles, simple buns should be avoided unless accompanied with very high necklines.

Avoid headpieces that are not either a) her crown or b) ceremonial.

[beansprean]

These memes were made for them.

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1. Waist up of Nadja and Nandor from season 1 episode 6 "baron's night out" standing together on a dark nighttime background, clearly intoxicated. Nandor is grinning at the viewer, eyes unfocused and flushed purple down to the chest, holding up a traffic cone with one hand. His shirts have been unbuttoned to the belt and opened up to bare his chest, cravat tossed back over his shoulder and fur vest hanging off his elbows. Nadja has a New Jersey Devils cap sideways on her head and is flushed teal, blood dried messily at the corner of her mouth. She smirks at the viewer, one hand reaching up to squeeze at Nandor's exposed right pec.

2a. Full body of Nadja leaning back against a corner of the bartop at her nightclub, wearing a lacy deep red Victorian dress and bustle and black platform boots. She has both elbows braced on the bar and is smiling flirtily down at Laszlo, who stands about half a foot shorter than her as he leans in with one arm braced against the bar to cage her in. He aims a flirty smile up at her, and one of her hands flips over to scratch her nails against his waistcoat. 2b. Full body of Nandor and Laszlo in what looks like a wine cellar, long shelves of bottles filled with red liquid stacked tall against one wall. Nandor is crouched down on the floor, hands and forehead pressed to the ground as Laszlo stands upright on his back, inspecting one of the bottles he pulled off the shelf he couldn't previously reach.

3. Full body of Guillermo and Nandor against a chain link fence. Back to the viewer, Guillermo has Nandor pressed against the fence, holding him up with his hands tucked under both of Nandor's knees to press himself between them to kiss him. Nandor kisses back greedily, holding both his hands above his head to tangle his fingers in the fence. /end ID

[animasola86]

NSFW Hogwarts in the 1890s Headcanons

Convenient Plot Devices (to make my smut more believable)

(aka Nurse Blainey is a very supportive and progressive witch doctor!)

Every girl over the age of 15 (sometimes earlier) is required to take contraceptive potions as per request by Nurse Blainey who had to deal with horny teenagers and their lack of mind for consequences for too long.

Boys don't have to take them, but can if they are so inclined.

Very reluctantly, the recipe for that potion is taught by Professor Sharp in the Sixth-years' Potions class.

There are potions for every ailment (usually provided by Nurse Blainey), including aftermath soreness or the "potion after" if a witch/wizard forgot to take their contraceptive potion.

There were indeed condoms*, but not every wizard carried them, so the potions and/or a quick disappearing spell had to be used to prevent pregnancies.

*Condoms were usually distributed in barbershops in the late 19th/early 20th century (according to Wikipedia) so I imagine Madam Snelling selling them under the counter in her hair salon.

There is no sex-ed class in Hogwarts, but again, Nurse Blainey is the first to hand out informative literature* or reading recommendations.

The Restricted Section of the library has an entire room filled with erotic fiction, anatomical books and various guides to help out the eager witch or wizard.

*Informative literature included tips and guides for the uterus-bearing population on how to deal with bleeding. As early as 1890, probably even earlier, there was the "invention" of pad-belts/sanitary belts in Victorian England, those were re-usable and I can imagine even easier to use for witches because instead of cleaning them the old-fashioned way, they could just clean them with a swish of their wand. (Read more on the history of menstrual pads here if you're interested.)

Ignatia Wildsmith has seen more horny teenagers making out in front of her Floo flames than people actually using that way of travel.

Ghosts see a lot of things and mostly they don't care about it, unless they are Richard Jackdaw* who likes to stalk those horny teenagers more often than is appropriate.

*Shameless plug: I wrote a smut piece about our favorite horny ghost called The Horny Ghost (how creative).

"Silencio" is the most used spell in the dormitories, boys' and girls' alike.

Hufflepuffs are the only ones who don't have curtains around their beds! But I bet they can think of other devices to get some privacy. Maybe they're masters of the Disillusionment charm!

On that note: only Ravenclaws have their own in-house bathrooms - with actual bathtubs! Slytherins have to leave their common room, and Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs have to walk quite a while to find the nearest bathroom. [Correction: there are bathrooms, one with stalls, one with stalls and bathtubs, in the Gryffindor common room, but only on the girls' side! (Thanks to @mianeryh for pointing that out!)]

But this is a post about HCs, not actual fact/pointing out lazy game design, so I'd like to imagine that all houses have at least one communal bath/bathroom area very close to their dormitories.

*By the way: In the Slytherin, Gryffindor and Hufflepuff common rooms, the girls' dormitories are upstairs, so they have the stairs turning into slides whenever a boy tries to access them, whereas in the Ravenclaw common room, the girls have to go down the stairs and are "only" protected by two suits of armor guarding the way, which in turn makes it easier to sneak past!

Popular make-out places are: the boat-house, the underground harbor, the loft above the Great Hall, the kitchens (poor house-elves), the Prefects' bathroom, the Restricted Section of the library, any dark empty hallway, any empty classroom/storage room, the Undercroft and the Room of Requirement (if they know of them), ...

*Honestly: anywhere is possible in the large castle that is Hogwarts!

Let's talk fashion: we've all seen the HL undergarments of girls and boys, right? Here is an amazing guide by @tamayula-hl about period accurate clothing and their uses in smut writing, very informative!

So based on that I also believe that horny teenagers got tired of all those buttons and layers very quickly and learned spells to make the undressing easier, and/or used "Evanesco" to get rid of clothes entirely (and conjured them back afterwards) - though tbh, I, as a smut writer, don't care too much about how they get naked. They're wizards/witches, they have their ways!

My most used clothing device apart from simple spells: the convenient flap at the front of boys' breeches.

FANFICTION MASTERLIST - KINKTOBER - AO3

[fannyrosie]

Blue afternoon

Outfit rundown Jacket: second-hand Mary Magdalene Skirt: second-hand Victorian Maiden Blouse and underskirt: old The Floral Notebook (dead indie brand) Hat: vintage Parasol: Alice and the Pirates Gloves: second-hand Victorian Maiden Shoes: old Hotter Shoes Belt: thrifted Brooches and earrings: vintage

[thesimline]

Breaking my hiatus to put together a goth inspired lookbook because the official Sims kit - WOOF. The goth culture has so many varied and cool sub-cultures, so I chose some of my favourites to showcase today.

Cybergoth is the probably the most unique aesthetic when it comes to goth sub-cultures; marrying goth, raver and cyberpunk fashion into a wholly unique style. It's typified by the pairing of stark black with highly contrasting neons and brights. Both hairstyles and make up are highly intricate.

Hair | Hair Colour Overlay | Brows (TSR) | Eye Makeup | Earrings | Mask (TSR) | Choker (TSR) | Top (Fitness Stuff) | Arm Warmers | Nails (Base Game) | Pants | Boots

Gothic Pinup or Gothabilly style combines the curve hugging fashion of the 1950s with the dark aesthetic of goth culture. It subverts the typical cheesecake pinup by adding cool tattoos, creepy motifs and moody makeup.

Hair | Brows (TSR) | Sunglasses | Lipstick | Choker | Dress | Nails (Spa Day) | Stockings (TSR) | Shoes (TSR)

Nu Goth is one of the most accessible forms of goth fashion. It is a lot more sleek and modern, with less decorative elements and more understated details. It incorporates everyday clothing pieces, albeit in a darker colour palette than "normal" fashion.

Hair | Brows | Lashes (TSR) | Eyeshadow (TSR) | Earrings | Septum & Lip Piercings | Lipstick | Top | Jacket Mesh | Jacket Recolour | Nails | Rings (TSR) | Skirt | Ripped Tights | Striped Tights (TSR) | Boots

Romantic Goth is a lot more fantastical than other goth sub-cultures. It draws inspiration from the Victorian era - with corsets, bustled skirts and laced boots predominately featured. Both clothing pieces and hairstyles are long and flowing.

Hair | Brows | Lashes | Eyeshadow (TSR) | Nose Piercings | Lipstick | Choker | Dress | Nails (TSR) | Boots

Pastel Goth is very similar in its divergence as Cybergoth, however this sub-culture swaps out the neon brights for girly pastels. Besides its unique colour palette, it is characterised by heavy decoration and cute-but-creepy details.

Hair | Eyeliner | Eyeshadow (TSR) | Lipstick | Top | Bodysuit | Nails | Rings | Hand Tattoos (TSR) | Skirt | Belt | Body Tattoos | Stockings | Boots

Trad Goth (AKA Traditional Goth) is the genesis of goth fashion, originating in the 1980s alongside the beginnings of goth music. It is a lot less prescriptive in its style, although it does feature a lot of leather, studs, graphic makeup and big hair.

Hair | Sideburns | Eyeshadow (TSR) | Blush (TSR) | Lipstick | Earrings (Get Famous) | Necklace | Dress | Belt | Nails | Ring One (TSR) | Ring Two (TSR) | Ring Three (TSR) | Boots (Get Together)

With thanks to some amazing creators: @daylifesims @joshseoh @pinkycustomworld @julhaos @evellsims @madlensims @nords-sims @pralinesims @blahberry-pancake @bustedpixels @sentate @arltos @miikocc @sagittariahx @clumsyalienn @joliebean @eunosims @natalia-auditore @twisted-cat @regina-raven @cloudcat @candysims4 @simskala @arethabee @trillyke @tunayegit @kijiko-sims @evilquinzel @qwertysims @grafity-cc @glitterberrysims

[starphasedd]

Instinct

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

One-shot. Rated 18+ for sexual themes.

I'm SO proud of this one. The intention was a short and sweet one-shot but then it turned into the beast below. Very proud of my work here.

Shout-out to my babes @meand-allmy-alteregos for the inspo! She also helped me really map out some great dialog for Ghost here. ❤️

Rain patters softly against old metal roofing; a few drops slipping through the cracks here and there. A puddle begins forming in the corner of the room. The walls creak and moan as wind pushes around around the victorian outhouse. It whispers gently every now and then, the songs of Mother Nature's cries filling one part of your head--letting some of the adrenaline from today's misson seep out the other side.

"No luck?" Your nimble fingers are playing with the harness wrapped around your waist, trying to get somewhat comfortable for the long night ahead.

On what floor there was that wasn't dirt, Ghost sat with his back against the wall. His large and broad figure takes up most of the space in the corner he chose. Presently, he's fumbling with his communicator, trying to get ahold of Price. But at some point during the shootout you both just endured, it got side swiped by a bullet and hasn't been working. He's frustrated. You can tell by the way he's gone completely silent.

You've known him for many years. In fact, you knew him before he was 'Ghost'. You knew him as Simon. Over the years of getting to know him, he'd been a man of very few words. But even so, when he went completely silent like this, that meant he was frustrated. He did it more for your safety; never wanting to bark at you in a frustrated moment like this. You told him he didn't need to worry about stuff like that. You'd rather him reach out to you for help than suffer alone--and that applied to every situation. Not just a broken communicator.

You stop fumbling with your harness when he doesn't respond and turn to look down at him.

"Hey." you say.

He doesn't look up.

You click your tongue, stepping closer to him. He still doesn't look at you.

"Hey." You say again.

Again, he doesn't give you the time of day. But he does acknowledge you by huffing gruffly through the cloth of his mask.

Your mouth pulls up into a straight line, irritation taking over your facial features. You watch him fumble with the device a bit longer before you inevitability decide to step closer and reach down to quickly snatch the communicator from him.

His large hands drop to his thighs, and finally, he decides to acknowledge your existence. His eyes are narrowed, as if he's scowling underneath the skull mask. But that doesn't phase you, it never has.

"Stop." You say firmly, tossing the communicator to the floor behind you. You don't break eye contact with him. "It's broken. Leave it."

"Rather bold of you." he says, adressing you by your middle name at the end.

You hated to admit it, but you loved when he called you by your middle name. It felt personal, and he only did it when the two of your were alone. So sometimes, it also felt rather intimate.

"Brat." You say, a smile now gracing your lips as you look away from him to finish talking your harness off.

He watches you closely, his eyes dropping from your face down to your waist where your little hands are working the harness open from your chest pack. He admires how gentle you are with it--taking your time to slowly pull the fabric strap through the belt and let it drop to your side.

After a moment of watching your hands, his eyes venture back up to your face, where he watches your eyes blink slowly in concentration. Your lips are pouty, indicating your growing irritation with the harness you're trying to work. You groan when it finally comes open. And when it falls from your body to hit the ground with a thud, you sigh loudly. One of your hands reaches up to rub over your shoulder where one of the straps had been digging into the muscle there all day.

"Fucking awful thing." You say. Your posture is visibly more relaxed now.

"What are you complainin' about? My packs' about twenty kilos heavier." Simon speaks as he watches you slowly approach him.

"You're also about a foot taller than me and a hundred pounds heavier." You retort.

"Sounds like a personal problem." He says. When you stop and turn to look at him, you see his eyes squinting. You know he's grinning.

"You're so rude to me, Simon." You mock, grinning back at him.

"That right?" He asks, his voice deep and velvety.

"Yep." You respond

You take one step closer to him. A grunt sneaks up your throat involuntarily when your knees bend to sit down on the cold wood floor next to him. You plop down close enough to him to feel the heat radiating off his massive form.

It's dark in the one-room shack. The only bit of light was coming off the moon, shining a direct beam over Ghost and you. The stream illuminated the hard part of his mask and lit his dark brown hues up like a fresh cup of hot coffee. His lashes were long and blonde; giving his gorgeous eyes the perfect amount of shade from the intrusive moonlight.

He still has his arms crossed over his chest, but when he notices you shift to turn towards him, he drops them to his sides.

As stated above, you've known Ghost for a long time. You've been on many missions together. Whether it be in full groups or alone like you are now. He's seen all the good and all the bad of you. There's nothing you could say or do to suprise him at this point. So when you turned to him and asked your next question, the thought of refusal never crossed his mind.

"May I?" You ask, bringing your hand up to point towards his side--where the junction of his chest and arm is.

It was genuine and harmless.

Ghost nods his head towards you and lifts his arm as an invitation. You slide over to him easily, slipping under the heavy appendage he just lifted for you and settling your head on the side of his right pectoral muscle.

You lay next to him, otherwise. Your head is the only part touching him. Your back is arched to match his, and it's incredibly more comfortable on your neck as well. Your hands come down to busy themselves in the pocket of your hoodie so as not to accidentally lay them on his stomach like your body desperately wants to. It's instinctual, you think.

It happens like this sometimes. And you're so happy he's comfortable enough with you to be like this. You like to think he wouldn't do this for anyone else; that you're different to him.

Certainly, he's different to you--in the sense that you wouldn't trust any other man under a rather intimate situation like this. He gives you a true sense of security and ease. You would most rather be on a misson with him than anyone else; including Soap. Whom you've come to love like a big brother.

Naturally, it doesn't take long for you to fall asleep. He excudes heat on this cold winter night, and that puts you right out.

When you wake a couple hours later, the rain has stopped. It's muggy; steam rolling in through the cracks and holes on the walls. The puddle in the opposite corner of the room had filled significantly through the night and started to flood the floors. Luckily, you and Ghost picked the right spot. The floor boards were slightly elevated so neither of you seemed to be wet.

Your eyes stuggle to adjust to the moonlight. You blink and roll them back a few times in an attempt to settle on the surrounding area. Your ears are sharp--you can't hear anything outside. No footsteps, whispers, shuffljng. Nothing. Everything appears to be clear for the moment as your eyes finally adjust.

When they do, however, you look down to see your body completely intertwined with Ghosts.

You're on your side, chest pressed firmly to his chest. Your leg is arched up and over his; your core sitting firmly against his thigh. Your arm is wrapped around his waist, hand sitting lightly on what feels like rock-hard abs.

The thing that throws you off, though, is when you shift a little and feel something heavy sitting on your hip. You glance down at that moment of realization and see that his arm his wrapped around you, his large hand laying comfortably on the biggest curve of your hip.

His touch wasn't foreign to you. There had always been fleeting touches from him. Your shoulder, lower back, your arm. He knew you were comfortable with it and never overstepped. But your waist was a completely new feeling. A feeling you hadn't felt in many, many years. It was a feeling that, if not tamed quickly, could ignite a dangerous fire below and stir waters that hadn't been disturbed in a very long time.

You close your eyes for a moment and swallow, throwing any thoughts of that to the back of your head to revisit later when you were alone.

You haven't looked at him, but his steady breathing and the slow rise and fall of his chest indicate he's sleeping. And you wouldn't dare wake him. The man never got any sleep as far as you were concerned. He never let you take watch. He always volunteered and forced you to get your sleep.

So you turn back, ever so carefully, in your best attempt to keep from waking him.

Only when you lay your head back down, your eyes open for a brief moment, and glance down towards your leg now hanging over his side.

And you see it.

Your breath catches in your throat, and you can't keep the heat from creeping up your neck to your cheeks.

A tent appears in his jeans directly next to your leg. The detailed outline of his thick cock sitting taut on the inside of his thigh sends shivers down your spine that you can't help.

Holy fuck. Holy fuck.

It's big--thick and long. And it's so hard. It honestly looks to be painful. How the fuck can he sleep like that? His cock is hard as rock, constricted and throbbing under the jeans that are relatively tight on his muscular thighs.

You can't help the desperate throbbing between your legs when you see him so bricked up under his trousers. And you exhale deeply, trying to control your rapidly increasing breathing.

In your attempts to keep from waking him, you don't notice his breathing change. And his chest stopped rising as high as it was.

When his deep, velvety voice rings through your ears unexpectedly, you jump slightly.

"Don't flatter yourself. I was only sleeping." He says. When you glance up, he hasn't even opened his eyes.

You struggle to find words for a moment, the shock of his very obvious arousal clouding your mind and throwing any rational thoughts out of the window.

"Is that? Normal?" You ask, voice quavering slightly as you try and keep your voice down.

He clears his throat and nods.

"Happens sometimes." he says. This time, he slowly turns his head towards you and opens his eyes to glance down. "It's involuntarily."

"Oh." You say, blushing when you register that it sounded relatively disappointed.

He stares down at you, his hand still laying in the curve of your waist.

"Hoping for a different excuse?" He asks, his voice only above a whisper. It was deep and vibrating deep within his chest.

"No. Just surprised. That's all." You say softly.

He watches you for a moment before he speaks again.

"Sorry. Is it...making you uncomfortable at all?" He asks.

"No! No. It's fine. I know you can't help it--" you say softly. "--just looks a bit uncomfortable for you."

You can see him swallow this time and that suprises you. Not often you can see such visible signs of emotion in Ghost.

"Sorry. Can't just make it go away, or I would." He says, turning to look away. He lays his head back on the wall. "Just ignore it."

You slowly lay your head back down on his chest and think for a moment.

"Why can't you get rid of it?" You ask.

He shifts a bit and turns his head back towards you. His chin brushes your forehead.

"Be awful inappropriate, wouldn't it?" He says, his deep vibrato vibrating your head.

You don't look up at him, but you can feel his eyes on you. You keep your eyes straight, concentrating on the wall so you don't glance down at his pants again.

"Does it hurt?" You ask softly.

He breathes out slowly, his breath brushing your hair from your eyes.

"Nothin' I haven't dealt with before." He says.

You don't respond. Your thoughts too clouded with the thought of his throbbing hard cock just below you. Eyes still focused on the wall, and your hand lay flat on his stomach. His hand is still on the curve of your waist. His fingers twitch slightly when you slide your hand back towards your chest.

You don't know what possesses you to say what you say next, but comes out clear as day.

"Do you want help?" You say--it's a tiny whisper.

His breathing pauses for a moment, and you can feel his eyes burning into your head. His fingers bunch a little, crumpling the fabric of your shirt. You tear your sight from the wall and turn to look up at him.

The moment your eyes meet his, you can see the newfound lust swishing around in those dark brown hues. He has his massive neck craned down to meet your gaze. Your hand slowly slides up his abdomen to rest on his chest in the valley between his swollen pecs.

His hand leaves your waist to slide up your body. Over the curve of your waist and up your arm to the back of your head where his palm lays over your neck. He brushes the hair from your neck, and his fingers start to trace the line of your jaw.

"Are you sure?" He asks, his voice an entire octave lower.

His thumb comes up to brush over your bottom lip, and you open your mouth for him. Your hand slowly starts to descend his body. You trace all the way back down to his stomach before trailing over and locking your fingers on the metal belt buckle that holds his pants locked in place.

Gingerly, your nimble fingers begin working the buckle open.

He doesn't make a sound, and he doesn't loosen his grip. Your eyes remain locked on his as you pull the buckle open. His thumb takes your invitation and slowly slips between your lips, grazing the top of the bottom set of teeth.

When your hand frees his jeans of the belt buckle, you move to pull open the botton next, which doesn't take long. His thumb brushes over your tongue as you slip the warm flesh of your hand under his jeans and underwear.

His groin is dusted in a light field of pubic hair, trimmed and neat. Not bare, but not overwhelming. A conscious effort to prevent himself from smelling.

He keeps hygiene in mind? Such a beautiful attribute for a man to have.

His skin pulls a little tight when your hand makes contact with his shaft, and his breath catches in his throat. You slip all the way down, grabbing around the most girthy part of him and slowly pulling back. He springs from his jeans, long and thick. He's covered in veins, like his arms. It's a pasty white, transitioning to pink at the head. And the head is swollen, almost red from the pre-cum dripping out.

You give him a soft stroke from the base, all the way up to the head where your hand begins to coat in his arousal.

He mmms low in his throat, and you can't help the sweet smile that graces your lips.

"You're worked up." You tease in a soft tone.

You give him another strong stroke and his hips buck into your touch.

"Can you blame me? You practically threw yourself over me in your sleep. Like it was instinctual." He huffs out.

You lean your upper body up to press a soft kiss to the hard part of his mask. Your hand begins slowly stoking him at a steady pace.

"Maybe it is instinctual." You breathe against his mask. "B'cause you make me feel safe."

He groans at that, his head falling back to rest against the wall as you steadily stroke his aching cock.

"Fuckin' hell, woman." He huffs.

You continue stroking him for a few moments before your hand leaves him all together. This catches his attention, but he doesn’t move--just assuming you were giving your wrist a break.

Only when the wet cavern of your mouth wraps around his tip does he open his eyes to look down. You moved so quietly; your laying on your side across his stomach. Your back is to him. Your hot tongue wraps around his girth as you slowly let your mouth drop as much as you can.

His hand comes down to lay on the back of your neck. His calloused fingers begin to intertwine with strands of your hair. He takes this opportunity to swipe all hair from one side of your head so he can see your jaw moving around his big cock. A groan slips from underneath his mask as you begin to suck him in earnest.

You look comfortable, oddly. Your body seems relaxed, your thighs curling up together towards his knees. He notices how your hips start to circle slightly. Like you're trying to add pressure to something--like your trying to add pressure to your clit.

The vulgar sounds of your wet mouth mixing with the obscene amount of arousal he's producing fills the silence in the room. It only makes him want you more.

His muscles are tight, and his hips jut up in unison with your mouth. Gently, of course. As to not hurt that pretty little mouth of yours.

His hand leaves your neck and slowly starts to slide down your arm. Then to the side of your chest. Then to the curve of your waist. His fingers lock on your hip bone and hold you steady as his hips rut into your mouth. He groans your middle name. His preferred way to address you.

You weren't actually expecting him to, but his hand slowly starts to creep over your hip and down your belly. Once his fingers grace the hem of your jeans, he pauses. As if asking permission, but silently.

You give him just that by turning your lower half so your ass is fully on the ground. You spread your legs and he groans.

Slowly, his hand slips under your jeans and into your underwear, where he finds you completely and utterly soaked for him.

He slips a big finger through your wet folds, soaking the skin and dragging it back up to your clit. He circles you slowly, but roughly. He applies just enough pressure to make you pause and whimper against his cock.

"Y'like that, baby?" He asks softly, his voice almost sounding choked.

He follows the question up by immediately moving his hand down to slip one large finger inside you. Instantly, you clench around him. The feeling of being broken open for the first time in so long makes you whimper again. It vibrates his cock and he throbs, groaning behind his mask.

His finger begins pumping into you at a steady pace while his palm softly rubs against that swollen bundle of needy nerves. You can feel every ridge and scar on his finger as it fucks you quick. Your legs start to buckle around his hand and fall closed together, but he shoves them back open with his forearm.

Then he adds a second finger and you swear it's the size of a real cock. It certainly feels like it. His fingers are long and thick, muscular, from all the years of wear and tear. He pumps into you harshly, bottoming out at his wrist. Your toes are starting to curl in your boots, and your abdominal muscles are pulled tight in concentration.

At this point, it's hard to concentrate on anything. You didn't notice you'd completely stopped sucking his cock the moment he sunk another finger in, but he hasn't said anything. Your hand is still wrapped around the base and your lips are still pressed to the tip. But your tongue has retreated back to your mouth to lick your lips as your orgasm approaches.

"M'sorry. M'sorry Simon." You mumble a weak apology to him. "I-I.....I can't.....can't....."

It's not intelligible. It's coming out as quiet little whimpers; words mashed together in aroused nonsense. You're trying to apologize for how you stopped pleasuring him. How the pleasure he's giving you is too much.

He hushes you, though. His opposite hand comes around the other side of your head and flattens on your chest. He pulls you down to lay on his stomach as you gasp for air. His heavy cock drops to lay on the exposed part of your chest. A tiny bit of cleavage perfectly open for his viewing pleasure. He's still throbbing red; leaking pre-cum all over your skin.

His fingers continue digging into your cunt, hitting that sensitive spot deep inside you.

"Don't you worry about me, love. Cum; give me a good one." He groans out, eyes locked on your fucked out face.

Pretty eyes screwed shut, tears of pleasure rolling down your cheeks. Lips parted and swollen from getting bitten. Cheeks are still bright red. Fuck, he could look at you all day.

Your breathing is heavy, and you're trying your hardest to stay quiet, but sweet moans keep rolling off your lips as he pumps you hard with his fingers. Your little hands reach down and grab onto that big tattooed forearm of his and dig your fingers in. Your hips are starting to tense and jut upwards.

"Good girl, c'mon. You can do it." He encourages.

His cock is still sitting heavy on your your chest, leaning arousal on your skin. You can feel him throbbing.

"Simon." You whimper.

And that seems to do something to him, because immediately after, he cums on your chest. He moans his time, his opposit hand digging into your hair as his white juices start to cover your chest. Some leaks between your breasts and he curses at the sight.

"Fuckin' hell, woman. Look at ya." He moans out, his chest heaving as he continues to fuck you with his fingers.

It's not long after that you follow; the string pulled tight in your lower stomach snaps and your orgasm rockets off. Your back snaps into an arch, and you squeeze his forearm even harder. Your legs shoot up again and involuntarily try to shut over his hands. Everything trembles as he fucks you through your orgasm.

"Simon. Simon. Simon." You whimper for him.

"There ya go, love. Good girl." He praises.

His fingers start to slow and eventually pull out. You lay on him, trying to catch your breath. You feel him shift, pulling his hand up to his face and your eyes open to watch him.

You catch him lifting the bottom of his mask to slip the cum covered fingers into his mouth. If you thought your face was red before, there was no chance compared to now. Your mouth hangs open as you watch him lick your arousal off his fingers. And he groans.

"Christ." You mumble as he pulls his hand back from his face.

"Knew you'd taste good." He says, looking down at you. "Next time, I'll get it directly from the source."

[h3ffleyswife]

"i cant hold my alcohol" (r. heffley x reader)

desc: fem! reader who's ben's little sister. drunken mishaps, you sleep in rodricks bed, just read it

warnings: slightly ooc rodrick ngl, i wrote this when i was tired lolz sry

word count: 2480

You buckle your seat belt and throw your purse on the floor of your brothers car. "We're going over to Rodricks, his parents are out of town so he's throwing a party, sound good?" Ben, your brother, says while reversing out of your guys' driveway. You furrow your eyebrows, "Rodrick? The hot one in your band?" You questioned, picking at the chipped nail polish on your fingernails. Ben looked over at you and scoffed, "I mean, whatever floats your boat. But no way would I ever let you two date. You guys would make my life a living hell." You roll your eyes and sigh, "Whatever, leave me to my fantasies, Ben."

Your brother's face contorts into one of disgust and he pulls in front of a house that you can only assume is the Heffley's. "Please, spare me with the details of your Rodrick fantasies." Ben says, putting the car in park and taking his keys. You giggle to yourself and hop out of his shitty, beat up car. You can see lots of kids already here, most of them already wasted out of their minds. Ben walks in front of you towards the front door, and your heart flutters with nerves.

Stepping through the door, the first thing that hits your nose is alcohol, and it almost makes you nauseous. Ben's already gone off somewhere, so you walk around until you can find the drinks. Peeking your head into the kitchen, there's a couple borderline fucking on Rodricks kitchen counter. You scrunch your eyebrows and turn around, there didn't seem to be any drinks in there anyways.

It takes you about five minutes and squeezing your way through a bunch of intoxicated, smelly teens, but you finally find the drinks. Gwen Stefani is blasting in your ear while you pour yourself a coke mixed with a little bit of whatever shitty alcohol Rodrick managed to get his hands on. You take a sip, there's not too much alcohol in the drink, which is good. You don't plan on getting drunk tonight.

Rodrick is standing in a corner of his living room, chatting it up with his band members when Ben walks up to him. Rodrick greets him with a high five and a large grin on his face, "What's up dude? What took you so long?!" Chris asks Ben, also giving the boy a high five. "Sorry guys, my sister took hella long to get ready, but we made it!" Ben said and took a sip of his drink, he's lucky you already agreed to being designated driver, because there was enough alcohol in his cup to kill a victorian child. Rodricks ears perked up at the mention of you, "Your sister's here?" Rodrick questioned Ben, who looked at him with a raised brow. "Yeah.. she's somewhere around here, why? Is that okay? She's in our grade, it's not like I brought my 7 year old sister or anything." Ben rambles, Rodrick's now scanning the room for your familiar face.

It's been a running "joke" between the band that Rodrick has a thing for you, Ben's sister, for a while now. Any time you showed up with Ben to practice because of convenience, Rodricks playing would be off, and he'd be distracted the whole practice. There was just something about you, Rodrick thought to himself. "Hey man, stop daydreaming about Ben's sister!" Chris waves his hand in front of Rodricks face and laughs, making Rodrick blink a couple times before laughing nervously and looking at Ben. Ben rolls his eyes before making eye contact with Rodrick, "I wouldn't actually be upset if you tried to date my sister, but I swear on my mother, Rodrick, that I will put you six feet under if you screw her over." Ben places his hand on Rodricks shoulder and tightens his grip, making Rodrick gulp nervously before nodding quickly, "Of course dude, I wouldn't do anything to purposely hurt her!" He swats Ben's hand away, "I have business to attend to, gentlemen." Rodrick shouts, walking- maybe skipping- away to go find you. Ben sighs and takes another swig of his drink while Chris laughs to himself, turning to go try and talk to a girl.

You're leaning against a wall, starting to get mildly bored, when someone taps your shoulder. Turning around, you see Rodrick. Your face immediately gets hot and you give him a small smile, "Hey!" Rodrick says with a smile, giving you a quick once-over. You pretend not to see him looking you up and down, feeling an unfamiliar feeling in your stomach. "Hey Rodrick, how's it going?" You ask, your voice shaky and hands clammy enough to open a seafood restaurant. You cleared your throat awkwardly, normally, you were able to hold a conversation with him, why was it so different now? Rodrick gives you a nervous smile and stutters out a reply, "Well, throwing a party is way harder than it seems, y'know. How've you been? I don't really see you around school much." He smiles at you and you feel like you've just levitated off of the ground, "Haha, yeah I bet. I'm not doing too bad, just kind of doing my own thing, you know? I haven't been doing a lot recently, but I did just pick up a new guitar the other day, learning it's been kind of a pain in the ass though." You find yourself starting to ramble. Rodrick just looks at you and melts into your voice, nodding at certain parts. "You should teach me how to play once you've got it down. I could teach you how to play the drums, not to flex or anything, but I'd say I'm pretty good" Rodrick says and crosses his arms, smirking to himself. You laugh and shake your head, "If you sound anything like you did a couple months ago, I think I'll pass on those lessons, Rodrick" You giggle, watching his face fall.

"Hey! I've improved, thank you! And I wasn't even that bad..." Rodrick looks away with a pink face, and you find yourself smiling at the boy. "Sorry, sorry. I'll have to take you up on those drum lessons, then." Rodrick looks at you and laughs, "You want another drink?" You look at your empty cup and shrug, "Sure, why not."

Rodrick leads you into the dining room where he had drinks laid out on the table, "Let me make you something, are you driving later?" He asks you, and you pause, "I could find a ride home". He raises his eyebrow, "You could always just crash over here if that's okay with you?" Your stomach twists in excitement and you nod, "That's fine by me, why are you trying to get me drunk, Heffley? Don't try anything funny" You say and take the drink he's made you out of his hands, throwing him a smirk afterwards. Rodrick's eyes go wide and he stutters and trips over his own words, "W-wait!! I'm not trying- that's not-" You cut him off by laughing loudly, shaking your head. "I'm just giving you a hard time, if I didn't want to drink, I wouldn't have agreed to you making me drink." Rodrick lets out a loud sigh and playfully glares at you, "Gave me a heart attack" He grumbles and you giggle again, taking another sip of your drink. It was pretty strong, and you realized you should tell your brother to figure out a ride home because you were no longer going to drive him home. You take another sip, "Hey, do you know where my brother is by any chance? I need to tell him i'm not gonna drive him home, maybe Chris can?" Your words start to slur together and Rodrick nods, "I'll go find him and tell him, stay right here, 'kay?" You nod and pour yourself another drink.

Rodrick shuffles through his now, very full, house and looks for Ben. He finally catches sight of the boy, but he's on his way out of the house. "Ben! Hold on-" Rodrick catches him walking out the door, Ben looks back and tilts his head to the side, "What's up dude?"

"Hey, do you have a ride home tonight?" "I was about to leave and drive mysel- oh shit I forgot about my sister, have you seen her?" Rodrick swallows nervously, "Yeah, we've been hanging out all night. Is she cool to stay here tonight? No funny business, I promise! She's just starting to get kind of drunk, and I need to stay home to like... supervise this party, you know?" Ben sighed and nodded, "Yeah, that's cool. Let me know if I need to come get her at any point. Don't do anything stupid, Rodrick. See you at practice tomorrow." Ben says, shutting the door after he does. Rodrick hopes he's not overly upset with him.

Making his way back to the dining room, Rodrick sees you beeline to the bathroom in front of him suddenly. He looks around confused for a moment before quickly following you to the bathroom, making sure you're okay. You slam the door behind you and Rodrick can hear the sound of you throwing up on the other side of the door. He winces and knocks on the door gently, "Hey, it's Rodrick, can I come in?"

There's a pause of silence. Rodrick can hear you cough, and then throw up again. After a minute or so passes, your voice can be heard weakly behind the door, "...come in". Rodrick opens the door, shoves himself in the bathroom and then quickly shuts it behind him again. You look up at him with tears in your eyes from throwing up, and the sudden motion of looking up makes you nauseous again, immediately throwing your head back towards the toilet bowl. Rodrick quickly kneels down next to you and holds your hair behind your head, and rubs your back.

After you're done throwing up, you look back at Rodrick, wiping your mouth with your sleeve. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to throw up like that. I can't hold my alcohol very well, I guess" You say, thoroughly embarrassed and wanting anything but to be here right now. Rodrick shushed you and tucked your hair behind your ear, "Here, I have a shirt you can change into, do you want pajama pants too? I'll get you water and you can lay down in my bed." He offers, holding you and slowly standing you up. You shake your head, "You don't have to do tha-" "I want to do that, do you need me to walk you upstairs? Or do you got it while I grab you some water?" He asks gently while walking you out the door. Your face turns pink and you sigh, knowing you couldn't avoid it now. "I got it, which room is yours?" "All the way down the hall and to the left, you'll know which one when you open it." He says, smiling and walking away to grab you a glass of water once he sees that you're walking up the stairs. Once you're up the stairs, you go to the room Rodrick told you to. Surprisingly, his room isn't terrible. Could it use some tidying up? Yeah, but for a teenage boy, it was fairly well kept. You sit down on his bed and wait for him, slipping your shoes off.

Rodrick opens the door, and cracks a small smile once he sees you sitting in his bed. You look up and give him a small smile back, grabbing the glass of water he offers you. He walks over and opens his wardrobe, grabbing you a black graphic tee and some pajama bottoms. When he hands you the clothes, you notice that he gave you one of his Loded Diper tee's, and you smile to yourself while your heart flutters. "I think I have these same pajama pants" You state, the pants looking very familiar. Rodrick laughs, "We should totally match, wouldn't that be cute?" He says, with a joking tone, but he meant it.

You looked up and giggled, "Turn around for a minute while I change" Rodrick's face goes red, and he nods before turning around. You take your shirt off and put on the Loded Diper shirt. It smells like cheap cologne and... Rodrick. You can't describe how he smells, but it makes your heart jump in your chest. You slide your pants off and put on the pajamas, looking up at Rodrick, who's still staring into the wall, focusing on anything but the fact that there's a hot girl changing in his room. "You can turn back around, Rodrick"

He turns around and his stomach flutters at the sight of you in his clothes. "Drink some water and lay down, you can go to bed if you want to. I'll sleep on the floor tonight." Rodrick says, taking a pillow off his bed and tossing it lightly on the floor. "I can sleep on the floor, Rodrick, I don't mind" "No, I'm not making a pretty girl sleep on the floor, do you think I'm crazy?" He says, almost offended at the thought of letting you sleep on his floor. You blush, and look away awkwardly with a quiet laugh. He smiles at you, and walks towards his door. "I'm gonna go tell people to go home, I'll be back up in a minute" You nod and he leaves the room.

Laying back in his bed, the situation you're in starts to sink in.

You're in Rodrick Heffley's bed. And you're wearing his clothes. What the fuck? Your heart pounds and you turn onto your side, closing your eyes and cuddling into his pillow. It wont hurt to close your eyes for a minute until Rodrick gets back.

Rodrick goes around downstairs, telling people that they should start to head home because it's getting late. People leave, and Rodrick has to kick a couple people awake off of his living room floor. He looks around at the mess that he'd have to deal with tomorrow and sighs. He'd probably just get Greg to help him with it.

Rodrick walks up the stairs and gently opens his bedroom door. He walks in, shutting the door behind him and then looks over to you, and his heart soars. He swears he can feel his heart pouring out of his chest, how was it possible for a girl to look so beautiful? He walks over to your sleeping figure and tucks your hair behind your ear, "You're so pretty.." He says quietly, and kisses the side of your head.

Rodrick makes himself a makeshift bed on his floor, staring at the small portion of your sleeping figure that he can see. "Goodnight" He says to you with a smile, turning over, thinking about you.

What an eventful night.

hey!!! first fic in a while, let me know if you'd want a part two, thx!!

[in-herbones]

Details 🥀🖤

Jewelry (aside from the antique skull) , brooch and belt all by me🖤

[marzipanandminutiae]

Rating the Femme en Noir Crimson Peak collection when I should be going to bed (it's not ALL critical, actually!)

no judgment at all to people who like the collection. nothing can achieve higher than a 7/10 because it's all synthetic. let's get into it

Edith Victorian Gown in Ivory

...yeah! that's basically Edith's nightgown copied exactly, so it's a 7/10 from me

2. Lady Lucille Victorian Dress With Capelet In Teal

What. um. What does this have to do with anything Lucille wears? It's blue velvet and it's a dress; there the similarities end. Why is there a ruffly capelet? That's something Edith wears, not Lucille. Why are there leg-o-mutton sleeves? Why is there no trim whatsoever? (that last is to become a running theme.) 3/10.

3. Allerdale Moth Wallpaper Babydoll Dress in Olive

There's a longer version, and were it a natural fabric, I'd be tempted to buy it and alter it into a blouse and over-skirt or something. This one is honestly pretty cute, though I forget what part of the house this wallpaper appears in. 7/10.

4. Edith Victorian Knit Cardigan in Olive

I get that they want to modernize these things for their target audience, but the original being SO much more fitted and sumptuous-looking just makes this one look sad. It's like Wish.com Edith. 5/10 for at least keeping the little velvet pumpkins.

5. Ghost Shoulder Bag

If this were leather, I would buy it. Not a huge fan of Margaret being the ghost on the front, though- I feel like Enola or Eleanor would be more photogenic. Poor Margaret. 6/10 though they're lucky I don't take points off for calling it "vegan leather" in the description. Be honest- it's plastic.

6. Belladonna Maxi Dress in Crimson Red

This is just an existing product of theirs But In Red. Pretty, but 4/10 for lack of effort.

7. Lady Mourning Victorian Gown in Black

It's the nightgown in black with a sash. Try harder. 3/10 and I'm skipping any color repeats labeled as different dresses from here on out.

8. Mourning Victorian Bonnet in Black

You know what? Yeah. Sure! That's a cute bonnet. Good job. 7/10.

9. Lace Mourning Scarf Veil in Black.

You can get a yard of nylon chantilly lace for less than $28, pretty as this looks. 5/10.

10. Victorian Cycling Pullover Sweater in Black

I mean. I guess. What does this have to do with Crimson Peak, exactly? Why is "Lucille" wearing puffed sleeves when, again, her clothing being tight has so much character logic behind it? It's a mystery. 5/10.

11. Victorian Velvet Bustle Skirt in Black

This didn't photograph well, but it appears to have some cool pleat details. I don't like 19th-century skirts getting shortened, but that's more a matter of personal preference than reaction to movie inspiration or lack thereof. 6/10.

12. Taffeta Edwardian Blouse in Marigold

This comes in multiple colors, but I picked the marigold because it illustrates that Wish.com effect once again.

The OG bodice from the movie that they're clearly trying to evoke. It has DETAIL! it has TRIM! It has LUSH FABRIC! And obviously you can't do that with a mass-produced piece, but ye gods, why would you set yourself up for failure by trying? If they hadn't gone for the look of a specific movie costume, their blouse wouldn't look disappointing by comparison. 5/10

13. Wicker Tilt Hat With Black Veil

Once again I feel they shot themselves in the foot here. It's cute! But it suffers by trying to be something that was better in the movie.

Not great by comparison; it's TOO close without going all the way. 6/10 because it is cute, though.

[skipped a bunch more veils and some lace mitts, which were cute but have nothing to do with How Well Or Poorly The CPeak Inspiration Was Executed In My Opinion]

14. Victorian Hands Belt in Silver

THIS IS NOT THE CRIMSON PEAK HAND BELT. THIS IS NOT EVEN TRYING TO BE THE CRIMSON PEAK HAND BELT. DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS IS?

IT IS THIS 1970S BELT- WHICH, LIKE THE ONE IN THE MOVIE, IS NOT BASED ON ANY VICTORIAN ORIGINAL THAT I'M AWARE OF -THAT HAS BEEN COPIED 50000 TIMES. DO YOURSELF A FAVOR AND WAIT FOR CUTTLE AND BONE TO HAVE ANOTHER PREORDER OF ACTUAL CPEAK HAND BELTS. 0/10.

Conclusion: Not all bad, but I feel like I actually would have gone in a more modern direction with the resources and limitations of this collection. You're never going to be as good as the movie costumes at their own game, not with mass-manufactured pieces. So why set yourself up for failure? Bringing the characters, themes, and motifs to a yet-unexplored time and place (with some Victwardian touches, of course!) seems like it would have been a better way to go about this, IMO.

Also stop being allergic to trim when you're taking inspiration from a movie with oodles of passementerie and beadwork and lace all over everything.

5/10 overall.

[beenbaanbuun]

I have no idea whether I'm asking about your canon or the unhinged madness in our DMs, but what would you say addams! Matz does for money? Like we've established that they're RICH rich but is it old money? Do they have coffers so overstuffed they probably won't have to worry about it the next few centuries? Black market trade? A law firm? I'm actually so curious about this LMAO

~lyra

oh they are RICH rich, not that they ever like to brag about it. they might have money but they’re actually very humble people underneath it all. if we overlook the huge victorian mansion, their humongous closet filled with clothes and their massive collection of antiquities and oddities, they’re just your average run of the mill family with a few (very successful) family businesses under their belt.

the first one is a antiques business. it’s no secret that rich people love owning one of a kind things, and it just so happens that through a family connection, hongjoong is able to get his hands on a lot of them. ancient treasures from athens and rome, stunning jewellery from historic kind and queens, even a few weapons that were used in famous wars and executions; hongjoong sells them all. of course, seonghwa and his dove get first pick. anything that either of you want is yours, no matter how much profit he’s sure it would bring at auction.

the second business is one of seonghwa’s own creation. the growing and selling of rare species of plant. he loves roses, first and foremost; they remind him of you, so delicate and sweet smelling. in fact, over recent months he’s found himself wanting to grow and sell more and more pink variants, as a pose to the red and black he usually goes for. he’s even bred a new variant which he so fondly named ‘lamb’. he doesn’t sell those ones though, choosing instead to decorate the house with the pastel flowers. they don’t quite match the decor, but he finds they look quite beautiful.

the third and final business is a jewellery business. hongjoong designs them and seonghwa models them; they’re a match made in heaven. most pieces have ruby or jet inclusions, but their most recent creation was a silver choker with a pink sapphire flower encrusted in the front. it sits in a display case in their wardrobe, the pair having yet to put it up for sale. it just doesn’t look right with seonghwa modelling it; perhaps hongjoong would have to request your assistance instead.

[satorisoup]

HELLO! I saw ur goth girl Atsumu request, and I was wondering if you could do another one?

but with Iwaizumi Hajime this time? Please and thank you.

#IWAIZUMI W/ A GOTH GF

#A/N : omfg bro i love iwa so much im drooling. he would fs love himself a lil goth babe. this is short im sorry.

#WARNINGS : f!reader. petnames (baby). little kisses.

#ATSUMU VERSION HERE

now with iwaizumi, most people were actually not surprised. it seemed to really suit him to have a goth partner.

iwaizumi is known for his harsh facade, an uninterested look on his face most of the time. however with you, he really lets his guard down. he’s not afraid to show you off and call you his, showing the soft side of that scowl. he loves the way you put yourself outside of the box with your style, and he wouldn’t have that any other way.

“haji’, do you like my dress?”

it’s a pretty sight to see. cute black tights with big strappy boots, belts with big silver charms and a beautiful black victorian style dress. even though you dressed like this almost every day, it never got old.

“i do. is that the one i bought you last week? it fits you perfectly.”

hand on your waist and eyes that stare back into yours with admiration, a little peck on the cheek.

“it’s not too much for the meetup, right?” you ask, a hint of insecurity behind your question.

“no, its perfect. im glad to show everyone how pretty you are.” he replies with a hand to your cheek and that smile only you get to see.

“you’re too sweet, iwa.”

“as long as i get to call you mine, y/n”

one kiss. and one more after that. a proud hand holding yours as you leave to meet up with your friends.

“all mine, baby.”

[acethegaycard]

A New Look?

Alternative title: What I would give genshin guys to wear

Basically Reverse isekai but now you gotta make normal outfits for the characters so they don't stick out like a sore thumb. It can also be read as modern AU outfits if you prefer

Characters in order:

Heizou, Xiao, Albedo, Zhongli, Wanderer, Kaeya, Venti, Ayato, Diluc, Kazuha

Honestly heizou would be an easy pick. Old fashioned British detective style. Sherlock Holmes, trench coats, shades of brown, all that jazz. Also, give him access to true crime podcasts, he'll never be bored again. 

I'd give xiao the ol' hot topic skater fit. Black, band tees, lots of rings and jewelry, fake pieces, ripped jeans, yeaa. It matches his personality too. Not with fashion but if you do get band t shirts tell him alot about said band just incase one of those "name five members or your not a true fan" people talk to him. 

Albedo gets the light academia scholar outfits. Kinda chill, collared shirts, lighter colors, shades of brown and blue. Some gold every once in a while. Loose fitting stuff. Flowy sleeves. Lots of rings. Maybe one or two gold necklaces that he wears every once in a while. The type of outfits you see those aesthetic college student wearing. Maybe a bit of cottagecore. Lots of white shirts. 

Zhongli would look like that one professor that everybody has a crush on tbh. Not as formal as what he wears in game but still, collared shirts, suits once in a while, always wears a tie, owns one dark brown trench coat that he wears everywhere at all costs. Lots of darker browns with gold accents here and there. Not a necklace kinda guy but wears a good amount of rings. Totally has reading glasses. Has alot of custom hair pins for some reason? Idk I just feel like he does. Has 100 pairs of dress shoes, and like one pair of black boots. Nothing else. Also If you give him his own closet it's so organized. Spotless, everything fits in the closet right, its honestly impressive. 

Wanderer would be alot like Xiao. Hot topic's no. 1 customer. He'd have more of a blue and purple color scheme than black though. Actually listens to all the bands he has shirts of. Big punk fan. Wears this one black beanie with a skull on it basically every day. His shoe game is good, like really good. Had alot of platform shoes so he can look taller. Lots of cropped shirts that looked ripped. No long sleeves, short sleeves and sleeveless tees. An absolute MASTER at makeup, specifically eyeliner. Lotsssss of turtlenecks. 

Ooohoho now Kaeya would be f u n to style. Has a more simple style. Those pinterest dudes?? Yeah, think of that. Plain colored shirts, turtlenecks alot, almost never sleeveless. Lots of long sleeves stuff.

Give him one of those black corsets that I always see, since he wears one on his original outfit. Wears necklaces, but doesnt layer them or anything. One simple necklace at a time. A TON of silver rings. Hes got those pinterest guy hands. Wears sheer black gloves. Has this one cropped blue jacket but it's more of a sweater and he always wears it when layering clothing. 

Hanging earrings are necessary for him. Has a belt with a snowflake design on it that he uses alot. Almost never wears sweaters. Wears blue, grey, and black almost religiously. 

Ahhh venti :) Think similar to albedos but more Victorian than college student vibes. Again, long sleeves, flowy, lotssss of ruffles, has a generous amount of green accents. Has this one emerald necklace that resembles a vision somewhat and he adores it. Never takes it off. Not a giant ring person, but has around a thousand hats. Paper boy hats in green, might own a bucket hat or two? Hes got the whole hat-universe. Always wear white socks that go just below his knees with EVERYTHING. Has multiple pairs and some are a bit more sheer than the others. Has a pair or two of white fingerless gloves to wear with long sleeves, and full, white and sheer gloves he wears when he isnt wearing long sleeves. White button ups are his life. Usually doesnt tuck said button ups in.   (Totally not a walking mitski reference) 

Ayato isnt THAT complex. And he's got similar style to Zhongli, but complety different color schemes. Wears suits often, and they follow a pattern. White shirt, black tie, light blue suit jacket. The icon of white pants, he basically never wears anything else. For smaller accessories they're usually dark blue or black in color. Not a ring person either, but wears one or two black rings occasionally. Has earrings but not dangly ones. Just black studs. Has alot of dark blue hair pins to keep his hair back. Theres no way his hair naturally just stays that way ok?? Every single boba place within 40 miles knows his name and face by memory. Wears the same looking black shoes all the time. 

Diluc is probably another trench coat kinda guy. Less suits, more trench coats for him. In the fancy looking suit and tie gang with Ayato and Zhongli. Usually wears black button ups instead of white ones, with a crimson red tie and a brown trench coat, or a white tie and a darker red coat. Totally not an accessories guy. No necklaces, earrings, and maybe just one single gold rings he wears once every century. Another black shoes only person. I feel like the coats he wear have some fur on them in places. Just a thought. Always carries around like 3 extra hair ties in his pocket just in case he need one. 

Kazuha is a comfy clothing icon. Not one for a thousand things on his outfits for aesthetic purposes, just wears what he likes and adds accessories if he feels like it.  And absolute king of the fall outfit aesthetic. Outfits usually consists of slightly baggy autumn colored shirts, always short sleeves. Sweatpants or just light colored/bleached cuffed jeans. (Yes I said CUFFED) And occasionally has a darker colored orange and red knit sweater over him. Probably has one or two necklaces on at a time. Always wears this one necklace with a gold chain and a maple leaf charm on it. A gold colored accessories person. Most of the rings he has are gold. Has his ears pierced and usually wears black or gold studs. Sonetimes he wears dangly earrings but nothing to crazy. Ties his hair back a lot less. 

(I wrote this on the train lmao)