#opera length pearls
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Saw the exquisite overlord!Husk AU by @celestialalpacaron and caught an art bug BAAAAAAD. Next thing I knew, I was suddenly filling my Pinterest reference boards with shots of Nat King Cole, Frank Sinatra, Marilyn Monroe and Grace Kelly whilst listening to Nat King Cole's "Unforgettable."
Image description below the cut!
(Media: Watercolor, metallic watercolor, copic markers, glitter glue, pearl glue)
[IMAGE DESCRIPTION: The first image is a colored sketch of Husk and Angel Dust from Hazbin Hotel. Husk sits at a card table, slightly hunched forward - threateningly? - with his arms folded on the table, and his wings tucked neatly behind him. He's holding a King of Diamonds card in his right hand. He's wearing a gray pinstriped suit with dark gray lapels, golden cuffs, a gold bowtie, and a jeweled red pin.
Behind him stands a smiling Angel Dust in a metallic golden gown with diamonds encrusting the top of the bodice. He's wearing sheer golden gloves, gold eyeshadow, a pearl-studded bracelet, long diamond earrings, and an eight-layer pearl necklace while holding a golden, opera-length, cigarette holder.
They have matching rings.
The remaining images are close-ups, and the last is the initial sketch.
END IMAGE DESCRIPTION]
#my art#traditional art#fanart#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel fanart#husk#angel dust#huskerdust#overlord husk au#not my au but DANG I LOVE IT SO MUCH#hazbin hotel husk#hazbin hotel angel dust#overlord!husk
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The wedding of Frank Sinatra and Ava Gardner, 7 November 1951
"Asked about her dress, she said excitedly, “It’s so pretty,” and ran over to one of the open suitcases to lift her bride’s dress from it. Beautiful it was, designed for her by Howard Greer. It was cocktail length, one piece, with the fabric a mauve-toned gray marquisette, slightly stiffened. The marquisette started just below the bust line and fell simply into a graceful skirt. The strapless top was taffeta, in a soft shade of pink. The neckline was fashioned into a petal design, ending at the top in angular points. Ava wore the little gray bolero during the ceremony. It was styled into a short cut-away, bordered around the edges and sleeves with the pink, all perfect for Ava’s exquisite rose-petal coloring. Her opera pumps were of faille, dyed the exact gray of the dress and her only jewelry was a double choker of pearls and small pearl earrings with little diamond drops. Ava explained, “My dress was new, I borrowed June’s pink handkerchief. And my slip was both old and blue.”
The Sinatras’ wedding bands are perfectly plain thin platinum circlets, Frank’s a little wider than Ava’s. Her band goes with her engagement ring, which is a beautifully cut emerald, about six carats in size, set simply in platinum, with a pear-shaped diamond sloping down either side.
“Anyway," Ava continued, “the wedding was beautiful. And do you know—everybody cried, even Axel. Also, thanks to him, we have a permanent record of it because he took home color movies. Lester and his wife had arranged a nice buffet and everyone had champagne, though Frank and I only had one glass, and I was so excited I couldn’t eat a bit of food!”
-Photoplay, February 1952
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erstwhile child of the sea
(for a collab organized by @tsurudraws :3)
[id: A three-quarters portrait of a Chinese fem androgynous person, my oc Lambda. They are wearing an artistic interpretation of a traditional chinese opera costume, consisting of a purple robe, teal and green collar, and pearls adorning their hair.
Their robe closes in the center with a lapel embroidered with white fish. The fabric has ocean roundels and a geometric pattern weaving in between them. The cuffs have floral trim in lighter teals and greens.
Their collar, a yun-jian, is adorned with the same floral trim and all the edges are trimmed in dark purple. There is embroidery of goldfish on the shoulders, and white tassels hanging off the edges. Small silver teardrop beads trim the edges as well.
The character’s eyes are painted with purple eyeshadow, and a decorative dot known as a huadian sits in the middle of their forehead. Their mouth, with sharp teeth, is open, and their expression is neutral but rather intense.
Their face is framed by dark teal leaves and white tassels pinned in their hair, which is dark purple with lighter blue tips. It is chin-length and wavy, with two buns at the sides and curled bangs held in place by pearls. They have small white horns on their head. End id.]
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𝒐𝒑. 𝟐𝟐 𝒃. 𝟓𝟐: 𝒕𝒆𝒎𝒑𝒐 𝒅𝒊 𝒗𝒂𝒍𝒔𝒆— chrollo x reader. 8k. ao3. ethically reposted from my old blog.
there’s a very handsome man who wants nothing more than to take you to see dvorak’s symphonies performed on a winter night. even if you did just tell him you don’t have the time to dedicate to a relationship. it doesn’t matter, you can’t stay away. neither can he.
inclusive of all the Ophelia's Kuroro gems: czech composers, french, kuroro-is-just-a-guy, opera gloves, large jewels inherited via a vague late grandmother, tarot readings, incense lighting, angel & princess, sex scene equivalent to panning to an ocean view, showering in your own home. part of ten million jenny. enjoy!
Years ago, your little apartment had served everything you wanted. Windows that opened so you could blow cigarette smoke out of. A small kitchen you spent hours in, brewing coffee for your doctorate, and hours creating the perfect hangover recipes from too-long nights out in the club.
Now, however, instead of house music hits from the early 2000s blasting through the apartment to keep you awake, you have soothing blues music, crooning through your speaker to keep you calm and alert. Keep you from being too nervous as you apply the last of your jewelry in the mirror. In the reflection of the vanity you’ve had since you were a teenager, since you began this trip into education and been too lazy to move out of your apartment, you take in your appearance. Glossy lips, smoky eyes, teardrop pearls from your grandmother’s premature inheritance.
You’re honestly still quite confused at how you’ve ended up back here, dolling yourself up with the excitement of a date. A nice, proper date, one where you had to break out a floor-length gown, pearls and emeralds. A date with a man who had punched a hole in your perfect, ten year plan you’ve had since you started college. Get the degrees, as many as you want. Become a spinster. Don’t have kids, whatever you do. Enjoy post-work drinks with your mother on Fridays, because you’re both workaholics.
Instead. Instead. You’re waiting for a text that your date is here, waiting for your… Your date who you’ve tried to explain to numerous times that you can’t be in a relationship, that you can’t date because… Work, because family, because work, because work, because—
Instead of a text, there’s a knock at your door. A little startled, you apply the last touches of perfume over the dots of vaseline you allied moments prior. You pull on the opera gloves, and clasp a bracelet over your wrist as you head to the door. Your dress swishes around your slippers.
After a quick look through the peephole, you gasp upon seeing Kuroro standing there, with one hand behind his back. You undo the multiple locks, throwing open the heavy door and giving him a breathless smile. He looks handsome, standing before you. The snow flurries dust his shoulders, his scarf hangs open around the lapels of his blazer, his jacket.
“I was expecting a text,” You say, inviting him into your home. He ducks his head as he enters and stays in your foyer, not wanting to bring his outside shoes in.
“Your neighbor was entering the building the same time I was,” Kuroro says. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all,” You say. “Let me get my shoes on and we can head out.”
Kuroro produces a bouquet of winter flowers from behind his back, filled with anemones and camellias, with a few roses sprinkled throughout. Your breath catches, slowing your movements and keeping you in the foyer.
“Oh these are gorgeous, Kuroro…”
“They’re just trying to be as wonderful as you,” Kuroro responds sweetly.
“You’re a flatterer,” You respond. “There are vases on the top shelf of the kitchen, and there’s a step stool tucked between the fridge and the wall if you need it. Make sure to use—“
“The filtered water, I know,” Kuroro finishes, sliding off his shoes for the brief walk to your kitchen. This isn’t his first time filling up a vase in your apartment. He’s glad that the white roses are still in their vase by the window on the tiny breakfast table, even if they are browning on the edges.
After you had turned down his offer for a steady relationship, a relationship with a title, he didn’t think the roses would still be around. He didn’t think he would still be around. Nonetheless, he retrieves the vase, fills it with the filtered water from the fridge. Places them in your living area. Waits for you to reappear.
And when you do, you’re a vision. Fur draped over your arms, heels in your hand, a little clutch bag with a delicate chain hanging from your shoulder.
“There’s my angel,” Kuroro says. He gives you an arm for balance while you slide into your heels, then helps you into your coat. Your perfume wafts over him, and he desperately wants to lean in and smell you better. Place a kiss against your pulse point.
Instead, he keeps his hand on your waist as you lock your door, escorting you down to his car outside. It’s still sitting out front, hazards on, true to his story.
As shallow as it is, you can’t remember the last time that you had dated a man who owned a car. What an exciting new aspect to explore. There had simply never been a need for one growing up in the city.
Kuroro opens the door and has you slide into the warmth before you can formulate a response. It shuts, leaving you in the roll of the heaters. You pull on your seatbelt. You let the shoulder of your jacket fall slightly, only to quickly pull it back up as Kuroro opens his door and slides in.
His gaze lingers on your once-bare shoulder, before quickly flitting back to your eyes. He fixes you with a charming, half smile that you can’t help but dream about. It’s honestly quite embarrassing.
Should tonight go well, you’ll be thankful that you cleaned earlier that day. Sometimes with the rush of work, it makes everything so overwhelming. Something about Kuroro…
You don’t dwell on it. Instead, you place your hands in Kuroro’s personal space. He hates it with others, as you’ve noticed, but loves it around you. Stands in your spaces in lines, sliding through the metro turnstiles right after you. (Sometimes, while this is not a violation of your personal space, but an extension of the previous point, he hops turnstiles to pick you up at the station by his house. Someone has to carry your all too heavy work bag back to his home or yours.)
You place your hands in Kuroro’s personal space, gently tucking back a strand of black hair to see his earrings better. They’re jade, heavy and silver. You lightly run your thumb along the shell of his ear, acrylic nail clacking against the expensive stone.
“You look handsome tonight, Kuroro,” You say. Kuroro preens under your touches. The blinkers turn off. Gentle music fills the car. It reminds you of some of your own playlists.
“I had to put in a little extra work tonight, I knew you would upstage me by a long shot,” Kuroro responds easily. “I have company tonight. I intend to impress.”
“Oh?” You asked, knowing and teasing all at the same time.
Kuroro hums in agreement. His hand comes off the shift to take yours. He kisses the back of your knuckles as if his heart isn’t thumping in his chest. He hopes his hands aren’t clammy.
“I barely realized you were wearing gloves,” Kuroro says, after realizing he was kissing velvet, not skin. His thumb smooths over the fabric. “You never fail to surprise me.”
“I don’t get opportunities to wear them that often,” You reply, breezily and easily. “I’m grateful for the chance.”
Kuroro lets out one of his little chuckles, where he knows something you don’t. It makes your heart skip a beat.
“I would have looked like a fool showing up by myself when I had two tickets.” You both know he’s lying, and he bought the second one especially for you. You both only know his reluctance is because you had told him only a few days prior; No, Kuroro. I can’t be your girlfriend, not right now. I have too much going on to be in a relationship.
In all honesty, you were surprised that denying him hadn’t severed your relationship. He had taken it in stride, asking if you wanted a ride home. As long as you aren’t uncomfortable with me being here. Given that you woke up there the next morning, it was safe to say the two of you were alright (for now) of not defining anything.
The drive to the concert hall is quiet, but it’s not like you aren’t familiar with Kuroro’s silences. It was always as if he was expecting you to offer up some sort of silly conversation for him to dissect.
Instead, you rest your arm on the centre console and hold his hand. It’s bizarre, how much you miss the feeling of his skin pressed against yours. The cool of his rings clinking against yours.
Upon arrival, Kuroro takes great pride in arriving with you. He’s able to help you up the stairs, taking each stone step slower. It felt like gliding. At the coat check, he slides your coat off before his, rests his hand on your lower back to guide you through the crowds.
You end up standing to the side of the theater with Kuroro, each of you holding expensive plastic glasses of champagne in your hands. It’s always so exciting when you get an opportunity to indulge in the bubbly drink. The inability to use your fingers proved freeing, instead of irritating. You knew it was alight with notifications, as it annoyingly is.
“Normally, when I’m coming to see something here, it’s daylight and everyone is much more casual,” You state.
“Is it?” Kuroro asks, facing you with genuine interest.
Drawing your gaze back from the crowd, you let yourself fall into the tunnel of Kuroro’s eyes. The world melts away when you retract your focus back to him. It’s calming, in a sense you’ve never felt before.
“The university uses it for performances from time to time,” You elaborate. “And to beat the crowd we’re in right now, they’d be right after classes finished for the day. So… Much more casual.”
You bring your freehand to rest on the lapel of Kuroro’s blazer. Your finger slides under the thick fabric, appreciating the fold of the wool.
“It’s quite amazing, you know. How involved you are in everything around you.”
You shrug. “I get invited, and I wouldn’t want to tell any of them no. For all I know they’ve been stood up by their parents for every single of their performances growing up. It’s the least I can do.”
Kuroro takes in your statement, digests it through his brain. His heart feels like it might pop out of his chest. “Do you go often?”
“They normally happen at the end of the semester, so. Yeah.” You take a sip of the dry champagne. You wish you could follow it with the sweetness of Kuroro’s tongue. “But I’m going to be completely honest, some of them are horrible.”
Kuroro can’t help but chuckle at your candidness. “Really?”
“Really,” You say, shaking your head. “It’s honestly quite ridiculous. I couldn’t imagine spending this much money to end up with such a shit result.”
The chuckles continue. “Ophelia…”
“I’m telling the truth,” You insist, doubling down on your statement. You can’t help but smile alongside Kuroro. “Some of them are really good! I get a surprising amount of opera students in my room.”
It’s absolutely insane, how Kuroro cannot help himself around you. How genuine it feels, talking to you in public like there’s no one else there.
“I enjoy going,” You summarize to him.
“You must.” One of his hands comes to rest on your hip, gently pulling you closer. The velvet feels like gold under his fingers. “Not to cut you short, but I have to reiterate how absolutely beautiful you look right now. Everytime I see you…” He shakes his head. “It’s always like a dream.”
You can’t help but give the poor boy credit where credit is due. “You picked the place, angel.”
“I did,” Kuroro says, wrapping his arm further around your waist, from your hip to your lower back. “But it’s the company that makes the moment, no?”
The seats Kuroro had purchased were nice, not too close but not too far from the stage. A little off center. To your left was a balding man sweating in his tuxedo next to a much younger woman, who was busy texting on her phone.
You look back to Kuroro, who is fixing you with a similar look. Amusement and intrigue at the scene you’ve stumbled upon. With both of you sitting down, you take the pamphlet out of Kuroro’s hands. Boldly, he places a small kiss to your cheekbone, all too intimate for the situation. Or perhaps that’s the angle he’s going for.
“Do you know anything about the composer?” You ask, crossing your legs and slanting your knees towards Kuroro. He gladly places his palm upon the hidden skin.
“Not much, quite honestly.” He had been more preoccupied trying to obtain tickets so he could take you on a show-stopping date. “I know he’s Czech. And he’s from the 1800s.”
You raise your eyebrow. It’s rare for Kuroro to admit he doesn’t know something. Instinctively, you reach for your phone, but remember your gloves. You fix Kuroro with a pleading look, shimmer highlighting the inner corners of your eyes.
“If only there was a way we could find this information. It’s a shame we’ll have to go to the library tomorrow and look it up in an encyclopedia.”
Kuroro smiles, pulling his phone out of his blazer pocket, deleting a few notifications before opening up his web browser. He reads the brief summary close to you, allowing you to peer over his shoulder as he reads. You let your hand rest on his arm, thumb slowly making patterns in the thick fabric.
More and more patrons start to enter, and an elder woman seems thrilled to be sitting in front of Kuroro. The lights dim, and Kuroro straightens up slightly, adjusting his cufflinks in the dim lighting.They catch your attention, and you catch his wrist to examine them as the orchestra begins to file in.
The examination turns into successful hand holding. Kuroro’s fingers end up moving up and down, to your wrists and the tips of your fingers, intrigued by the sensation of the velvet. It’s sweet, if not slightly distracting. You don’t mind.
—
On the drive home, you reapply your lipgloss to distract yourself from your question. “Do you want to come up for a drink?”
Kuroro looks over, admiring the new shine on your lips. Of course he wants to. “I’d be honored to.”
You give him a little hum and put your lipgloss back in the bag, which seals with a little snap. “Cool.”
Instead of parking out from the apartment and putting on his hazards, Kuroro circles and looks for a parking spot. He’d offer to have you over to his place instead, where there's a parking garage and an elevator that isn’t always out of order. The offer is on his lips after he has to find parking a block away.
When he doesn’t get out of the car immediately to open your door, you glance over at him, hands resting expectantly atop your purse.
“I’m not going to your place,” You insist. “I need to take a shower in my own bathroom tonight.”
“Ah,” Kuroro’s face softens, eyes flicking down to your lips before he turns off the car. Before he can open his door, however, you catch his attention by grabbing his scarf and giving it a small tug.
“Donne-moi un bisou.”
Kuroro knows what you mean, but he knows that once he starts he won’t be able to stop. “I don’t speak French.”
Your jaw drops in disbelief while Kuroro smiles, rounding the car to open your door for you. He offers you his arm, which you gladly take. It was quite cold out, but luckily Kuroro took the opportunity to give you his scarf. The most annoying part of the journey is the swishing of your dress between your feet, which requires all of your attention.
The way up to your front door, Kuroro keeps himself close to your back, as if to shield you from anyone so much as glancing at you. The streets are empty, he has nothing to worry about. He smells warm, full bodied frankincense and amber.
It’s a dangerous game, how natural it feels to have Kuroro in your personal space. Down to just his slacks and three of his shirt buttons undone. In his hand is a gin and tonic, made with purple gin and garnished with a mint leaf. Yours sits on the coffee table while you choose which incense to light.
You slide the chosen incense stick out of the box, careful to not let Kuroro see exactly which stick you were choosing. You didn’t need him interfering in your business like that. The smoke joins the atmosphere and you wave it around a bit. Chrollo watches the intricate and delicate waves you make before setting it in the incense holder.
The only part of your outfit that you had removed were your gloves and had exchanged your heels for slippers. It’s endearing, the way you sit on the couch with your drink, lamplight low and intimate. Kuroro’s thankful, in the end, that he was here. It felt a thousand times warmer here than it did at his apartment.
Kuroro truly doesn’t know what’s come over him, what’s caused him to become so enamored with you. He is also at a complete loss at what he has to do to convince you to be around him all the time. Nonetheless, he had to get to the bottom of it. You were so… Indifferent around him. You didn’t care whether he stayed or went, but always invited him along.
It was addicting. That’s the only description for how he feels towards you.
“What do you want to listen to?” You ask.
Kuroro shrugs. You settle for one of your playlists that isn’t too loud and isn’t too quiet. Blends of classical and R&B that fill the air.
He sits on the couch, legs spreading apart in front of him, and gestures to the collection of tarot books cluttering your coffee table. “Do you read?”
The simplicity of the question causes your brows to furrow, and follow Kuroro’s motions to piece the sentence together. How did I forget? “Sometimes,” You decide on.
Kuroro hums, “What sort of questions do you ask?” The glint in his eye has the implications you know it does. Two of Cups, Knight of Pentacles, the Lovers.
“None of your concern,” You easily blow the question off, coming to sit next to Kuroro. Still in your dress, your legs slant to the side and you take a careful sip of your drink. You need to stop filling the glasses so high.
“I only ask because I’m interested,” Kuroro reminds you. “I’ve always been fascinated with tarot.”
You raise an eyebrow in interest. “Really? I should have guessed.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, you look like a tarot kind of guy.”
“I didn’t think I was that easy to pin.”
“You let me look at your star chart,” You explain, setting your drink down on the coffee table. You bunch your gown up some, so you can tuck your legs under yourself. Part of you desperately wants to go put on something more comfortable (literally), but the other part of you is enjoying the intimacy of the end of the night.
Kuroro chuckles. “And now you know everything about me?”
“I know a few things about you,” You say, smiling easily. “Jealous you can’t look at a circle and know all my secrets?”
It absolutely does. Like a knife to his heart every moment of the day. “All I want to know is what is going on with whatever is influencing you to not be in a relationship.”
As if you weren’t already. You didn’t have enough time to be in anything as committed as a relationship. You’d drop the ball too suddenly, as you always do.
“Not a placement, angel, but simply work,” You say, sipping your drink again.
“Hm,” Kuroro says, looking around your apartment. Takes in the art and the books pile on each other. He then looks back to you, admiring how relaxed you were at home. “Can I watch you read the cards?”
Your gaze drags over to them. “I dunno, what do you want to know?”
“That’s quite the open ended question.” Kuroro tips his head back to seriously ponder the question. There’s a crack in your ceiling that makes Kuroro slightly worried. “How about… Hm… Alright.” Kuroro looks back at you. “There’s this wonderful woman I’m talking to right now. How are things looking for us?”
You can’t help but giggle. “Sounds like quite the predicament.” You take one last sip of your drink, before exchanging it for your tarot cards. The large cards shuffle easily in your hands, after the countless years of practice you’ve had.
“It is,” Kuroro bemoans, “I need any guidance I can receive.”
“I’ll do you, her, and you both. How does that sound?” You ask, knocking the cards three times before placing a little kiss to the deck, and then resuming your shuffling.
“Sounds wonderful,” Kuroro says, watching with purse admiration and fascination. The three cards all but slide out of your hands, and you look at them with interest.
“Oh, this is interesting,” You say, “You’re the Chariot, she’s the Queen of Cups, and together the two of you are Death. It looks like no matter what happens there will be a lot of change and rebirth that happens.”
“What does the Chariot mean?” Kuroro asks.
“Success and victory,” You say, letting him look at the card but not touch. “He’s a king who is able to parade his triumphs around, and deserves it. The Queen of Cups on the other hand…” You can’t help but bite your bottom lip. “She’s a dream. A wife. A more traditional woman.”
“Is she?” Kuroro asks. You nod. “Interesting…”
“But death is a good card. It brings a lot of good, healthy change. And it’s your card.”
“My card?”
“Scorpio card. Card of transformation and all that,” You say, adding the cards back to the deck. You shuffle them once more, and then set them back on the coffee table.
Queen of Cups… it wasn’t a card you were used to seeing describe yourself. And you had a hard time believing there was another woman. Another force, yes, previous readings had said the same thing. But work can be a powerful force.
Kuroro thinks that over, watching as you begin to take off your earrings. “Do you want some help?”
You stop your fiddling and place your hands in your lap. “If you’re offering.”
“Of course I am,” Kuroro says, setting his drink down and scooting closer on the couch.
To keep him close, you rest your hand on his thigh. His fingers are feather light against the clasps of your jewelry, which he sets delicately in your hands. The jewelry is discarded on the coffee table with little clinks. Your legs extend out, opening up your chest to Kuroro. Much more inviting.
Kuroro stays close by, letting his arm extend over the back of the couch as conversation drifts between you. Both of your drinks eventually end up empty.
“Do you want another?” You ask.
As much as Kuroro wants to say that he doesn’t, that he needs to drive home soon and leave you be, he doesn’t want to. He straightens out his arms to check the time on his watch. 22:34.
“Do you have work in the morning?” He counters.
“I have my yoga class in the morning…” You respond.
Kuroro hums. He brings his hand down to rest upon your velvet clad hip. He glances up at you, through his lashes and directly into yours.
“I don’t want to come in between you and that,” Kuroro says.
“You wanna come with, pretty boy?” You ask, sliding your fingers through the little strands of hair at the nape of his neck.
Kuroro chuckles, cheeks heating at the petname. “I don’t— Yoga really isn’t my style.”
“One more drink, then,” You say, tapping his wrist with your hand. He stands, holding his hand out for you.
“I need to get out of this dress,” You say, restituating the garment as you stand. Kuroro’s eyes don’t miss the way the shuffle causes your breasts to shift and press against your chest before settling back into place within the dress.
“If you dare trust me, I can make the drinks and you are more than welcome to change.” Normally you make the drinks, as you were particular about small things. Kuroro often only served wine.
You contemplate his offer. “Okay, just don’t change the liquor.”
“Yes ma’am,” Kuroro says, dipping down to give your hand a kiss, then your cheek. “Don’t take too long.”
You don’t. Your dress gets laid out on the bed, discarded to be placed into its bag later. In its place, you settle for a large sleep shirt and slippers. Your jewels from the night join your jewelry box again, your hairpins into a pile on the counter of your bathroom.
It feels like heaven when you’re able to run your acrylics along your scalp. Exiting your bedroom, you leave the door open. There’s no need to close it, no true need for privacy around Kuroro. He’d already touched your soul.
Entering your kitchen, you stop in the entryway to fully process the scene in front of you. Kuroro, his back towards you, rooting around in your fridge. You come up behind him, running your fingers up and down his spine.
It’s a little disappointing that Kuroro doesn’t react to the light touches.
“I can’t find your simple syrup,” Kuroro says, frowning as he pushes around some condiments.
You reach around him, opening up one of the drawers and pulling out a tupperware. “Right here, angel.”
Kuroro wraps his arm around you before you can go too far from him. Your kitchen is small, compact. There isn’t anywhere to go, but Kuroro still feels the need to pull you in. He doesn’t want to shout across the room.
His compliment gets lost in your beauty. He’s fucked.
“Wanna help me make them?” You ask, tilting your head to your side. “You’ll have to pay attention.”
“I’m always paying attention,” Kuroro says. His thumb slides over the soft material of your shirt.
“Mhm,” You say, unconvinced. One of your eyebrows raise, and Kuroro leans in to place a kiss against the incredulous gesture. A grin breaks across your face, relaxing the muscle immediately.
With easy, rocking steps Kuroro is able to press you up against the counter, right next to where the drink ingredients lay. Your lower back hits the sharp of the granite counters, and his lips slide against yours, drinking in your little gasp of surprise.
A familiar warmth shoots through you. It's always so easy to get lost in your memories and your dreams, to get a little ahead of the situation. But you’ve had a long day, you had champagne and now liquor, and there’s a gorgeous man backing you up against your kitchen counter, kissing you like there’s all the time in the world, and this is the one thing he wants to do.
You set the tupperware of simple syrup on the counter, next to the shaker and the mint, not breaking the kiss. Your fingers thread through the hairs at the nape of Kuroro’s neck, dancing along the knot securing his tattoo covering.
“Are you staying?” You whisper against his lips.
“I don’t know, am I?” Kuroro asks, smile prevelant in his voice,
For once, you don’t feel like formulating a witty comeback. No sharpness to bring him closer. “You’re more than welcome to if you’d like. But I can’t force you to stay.”
“I’m sure you could,” Kuroro murmurs against your lips. “You could lock the door, you could chain me up—“
“Chain you up?” You laugh. “Will it really be that hard to keep you here?”
Kuroro’s lips twitch into a fond smirk. “I’m just offering ideas.”
“Such an odd thing to suggest,” You hum. “I was just going to hope another drink would suffice…”
“And it absolutely will,” Kuroro assures you. He places one more kiss to your lips, then to your forehead. “Will you trust me enough to make your drink this time?”
“No, I’ve got it, I’m here now,” You say. Always a ‘control freak.’ Kuroro can’t help but chuckle lightly.
Instead of taking his usual perch, leaning up against the counter, he lingers along your back. His hand is loose, sliding back and forth from hip to hip.
He keeps a careful watch as you make the drinks. One day you’ll let him make them. That he was sure of. You muddle blueberries with mint, add tonic water that you somehow never run out of. Spoon out simple syrup. Shake and pour over fresh ice.
“Do you want something to eat?” You offer, handing Kuroro a glass.
It's hilarious how quickly you can watch Kuroro’s thoughts turn dirty. Perhaps you should have made a martini with a splash of olive brine to match. You tilt your head to the side, a teasing smile weaving across your face. You reach up to ‘fix’ Kuroro’s collar, despite it not needing any help.
“It would not be proper of me to ask,” Kuroro says, gently tugging your hand from his chest to his lips, placing a kiss against the pulse point.
“Are you asking for cheese in a lactose intolerant lady’s home?” You ask, smiling wider.
Kuroro can’t help but chuckle against your wrist, then against the palm of your hand. “You are impossible for me to flirt with, Ophelia.”
“What are you going to do? Chain me up?”
Kuroro’s eyes glint in the antique ceiling lighting of your kitchen. “Are you going to make it that hard for me?”
With the leverage from his hand in yours, Kuroro pulls you closer. He has the foresight to set his drink down on the table. Instead, you purposefully tilt your glass towards him so the purple mixture trickles down the front of his shirt.
“Oops,” You say, unremorsefully. You set your drink down on the counter. “Looks like you’ll have to take your shirt off.”
Kuroro chuckles and shakes his head. He leans against the counter behind him. Your kitchen is a shotgun— barely an aisle between both counters.
“If you want me shirtless so badly, you are more than welcome to help yourself.”
Your bottom jaw drops in shock, and it takes a moment for you to collect your senses. You raise your hands up, showing off your five-day-old manicure. “I can’t, I just got my nails done.”
Kuroro hums, taking your hand back into his, examining the nails. “I’m pretty sure I paid for these. If you mess them up, I’ll just do it again. I know how horrible buttons can treat dried nails.”
His teasing causes a scowl to form across your face. You pull your hand out of his to pick up your drink, taking a sip of it. “Fine. Enjoy being wet.”
Kuroro reaches next to you to pick up his drink, already undoing one of his buttons. “That sounds like something you‘re much better at than I am. Do you want to join me back on your couch?”
“Let me get your shirt in the wash, first,” You offer.
Intrigued, Kuroro raises his eyebrows. “Really?”
With a soft, too-loving sigh, you begin to unbutton the now-soiled shirt. “I have no reason to be rude to you.” Your acrylics tap against each other as you undo the buttons, revealing the expanse of Kuroro’s chest, marred by an undershirt. You pull his shirt out from his slacks, and continue to undo the last button. Your hands slide across the planes of his chest to push the garment off his shoulder.
With the shift in your hands, you begin to bunch up his undershirt around his bellybutton, pulling the front free from his pants. “Do you want something else to wear while your stuff is washing?”
Kuroro pulls his shirt off, muscles flexing in the antique lighting. A little smile pulls at his lips, as he catches how your gaze lingers. You’re always lingering.
“I don’t think I’ll get cold,” Kuroro says, “Let me keep you company.”
You lead Kuroro to where your laundry machine is, back away in your closet. It’s a bit of a mess, but you lift the stack of towels off the washer and place them atop the dryer to be taken to the bathroom later. You take Kuroro’s shirt and lay it on the washer, applying a stain remover to it. Liquor stains were nothing new.
As the machine begins, Kuroro turns you around to face him with his hands on your hips. You rest yours on his chest, heart thudding in your chest about how intimate the situation was. It’s so loud, in your ears, that you wonder if Kuroro can hear it too, in the small space.
Lightly clearing your throat, you glance up at Kuroro, tilting your head back a bit. You’re able to see the sharpness of his jawline, admire the way he slowly tilts his head down to make eye contact. “Do you want to change out of these?”
Your hands slowly slide down his chest, towards his waistband. As your thumbs narrowly dodge his hard nipples, you can feel his own heart under your hands. Your fingernails gently slide along his waistband, along the metal of his belt buckle. Kuroro’s abs tense for a moment before relaxing.
“Would you like me to?”
“It seems rude of me to not offer. I can’t imagine your slacks are very comfortable.”
There’s a brief moment, where Kuroro wonders if you’re also speaking of the growing harness in his trousers. And no, it was not comfortable.
“Do you have anything for me to wear?” Kuroro asks.
“I should have something, but you’ll have to give them back before you leave,” You say.
“Oh? Why’s that?” Kuroro asks, keeping you boxed against the rumbling washer.
You bite your bottom lip before losing it to a devious smile. “Because I need them.”
“You need them?” Kuroro asks, voice barely a murmur as he dips his head. “I’ll be sure to take good care of them.”
He pulls away all too soon to let you go through your closet. Opening up one of your drawers, you retrieve the oversized pair of sweatpants and present them to Kuroro. He takes them with an amused look on his face, unfolding the maroon fabric.
“You know, I’ve been looking for these.”
“Have you?” You ask, pretending to look surprised. You don’t know how well it’s performing, but you assume it's not well. Kuroro’s eyebrows raise as he licks his lips to keep himself from smiling.
“I have,” Kuroro says, his reluctant smile breaking through. He begins to undo his belt buckle. “I don’t remember leaving them here.”
“Oh, that’s strange,” You say, trying to put as much distance between yourself and the topic. “If you want to, you can throw your pants in the wash too. I’ll be out in the living room.”
You slip out of the room and head back into the kitchen, retrieving both drinks and setting them on the coffee table in the living room. While waiting for Kuroro, you find a throw blanket, one of your lightest, and drape it over your lower half, tucking your legs under your body. You also click on the TV, pulling up soft music for the background.
When Kuroro finally makes his reappearance, there are a few strands of wet hair that frame his face, as if he’s splashed water on it. His tattoo is on display, which you’re quickly loving more and more than the first time you saw it. He remains shirtless, a simple, silver cross hanging around his neck like normal.
Kuroro pads across the room confidently and sits in the middle of the couch, pulling the throw blanket over his thighs, resting his feet on the coffee table. “I like your new hand soap.” The new soap addition smelt of roses and pumped out a little foam rose into your hand when you used it.
“Thanks, I picked it up the other day at the grocery. Isn’t it fun?”
Kuroro hums in agreement. He leans in, cupping your cheek with his still-chilled hand from the water. The rose scent lingers just slightly. You tilt your head back to refrain from opening your eyelids any more than you had to.
There’s a constant question thrumming on the back of your mind. Kuroro is intoxicating, why were you so adamant about keeping him at arm's length?
Because he is intoxicating. Of course. It's always good to keep things far away that are a source of addiction.
“Want you to spend the night,” You whisper. You close your eyes so you can only see the sliver of Kuroro’s cheeks. If you wanted to end the conversation, it wouldn’t take much more than a tip forwards to kiss him. “Been having weird dreams lately.”
“Have you?” Kuroro asks, brow furrowing with slight worry.
You nod. His thumb glides along your cheekbone. You rest fully into his hand, cheek smushing against his palm.
“Alright, I’ll stay,” Kuroro murmurs. “You don’t need to convince me, though.”
“I’m just telling you how I feel,” You say, swallowing the shy, scared lump in your throat. Emotions were so hard to convey, weren’t they?
“I’m listening.” Kuroro’s lips slide against yours. The kiss starts off soft, gentle. With Kuroro’s hands tracing your hips, sliding down your sides and questioning your tummy, your back.
You press into his space, encouraging him to lean back. The throw blanket creates a soft barrier between your panties and his sweatpants. It’s too thick to see if he kept his underwear on. Gods, you hope he didn’t. If he didn’t you wouldn’t be giving them back.
Gently, Kuroro’s hands wander under your shirt. His fingers ghost over the hips of your cotton panties as if he’d never traced those lines before. They dip under your shirt, keeping a steady hold on your hips. Your lips move against his in careful, slow movements, always following Kuroro’s pace. One wrong move, and you worried he’d slip out of your fingers, despite Kuroro’s stickier fingers.
Kuroro’s tongue swipes along your bottom lip, sweet and minty. All too quickly, you let his tongue tangle with yours. One of your hands twirls the strands of inky black hair in your fingers. You wonder if he dyes it. A light moan slips into your mouth from Kuroro’s as you lightly suck on his tongue before his bottom lip.
You pull away with lidded eyes, to meet Kuroro’s wide-blown pupils. His eyes are so dark, like coffee beans, that they send a spark of energy through your body. Your heart thrums in your chest, Kuroro can feel it through the throw. He shifts in his seating, as if it’ll be embarrassing for you to discover how hard he is.
He’s worried about how good it will feel when you start teasing him for it.
Kuroro pulls away with expectant eyes that search yours, while his hands slide further and further up your body, inching your shirt up more and more. He exposes the crease of your thighs and hips, the barest hint of your mound, before the fabric falls back over his hands and bunches up at his wrists.
You settle yourself fully in his lap, pressing your chest against his. In a daydream, moments ahead of you, you dream about the sensation of your nipples sliding against his smooth chest. Of the way your nipple piercings will slide and roll and electrify…
You sigh into Kuroro’s mouth, one of your hands tracing their way down his neck, over the muscles, over the bump of the silver chain. A shiver rolls up his spine at the touches. Your chest presses against his, your hand splaying out on his collarbone, just below his neck.
There isn’t enough fabric to conceal the way both of you are aching for the other. Throbbing sex pressing into the tent, not even the hardness yet of Kuroro’s cock. Everything is so warm.
Neither of you push the other into the fire, instead gently kindling. Kuroro’s hands knead the fat of your thighs, grazing over your ass. You shiver under Kuroro’s fingers, as they move further up your spine, the other passing over your ribs.
You slowly roll your hips against Kuroro’s, exchanging soft groans against your tongues. His hand slowly slides to cup your breast, thumb gliding under the crease. A gentle sigh leaves your lips, slowly pulling back from the kiss.
“You’re good, angel,” You whisper. With one bold hand, you take Kuroro’s wrist in yours and slide his hand all the way over your breast. His Adam's apple bobs as your nipple slides between his fingers, when the full weight of your breast sits in his hand.
Kuroro pulls you close, lifting your shirt quickly so he could watch the way you fit in his palms.
“Shameless.” Your voice is breathless, washing over Kuroro. His gaze moves from your chest to your eyes. He’s unable to hold your gaze for one moment, eyes dipping back down before fixing back upon yours with reverence.
The two of you gravitate back towards each other. Kuroro slides your sleep shirt above your head with no resistance. Your arms wrap around Kuroro’s neck, nails sliding through his hair. As he rolls you onto your back, he slides his thigh between yours. He lets out a breathless sigh at the heat pooling from your pussy, from the way he can feel how your underwear grazes against your wetness like satin.
Kuroro lowers his head from your lips down your jaw, tracing a path behind your ear, down your neck. He leaves heavy kisses along your pulse points, purposeful in their intent to stutter your gasps, their intent to have one of your legs clasp around his hip, tightening.
His tongue swirls around your nipple, stoking the warm waves in your groin. His muscles ripple along his back as he lowers himself, placing more of his bodyweight on yours. There is no mistaking his erection, not with the way it nudges at your clit, slides so close to being between your folds.
Kuroro’s movements remain firm and steady, confident in the way they make your body shake below him. His fingers dance around whichever nipple his mouth cannot attend to, his hips roll ever so slightly against your aching cunt. You stifle a moan, moving your hand from Kuroro’s hair to cover your mouth instead, facing away from him to try and hide it.
“Ophelia…” Kuroro cups your face, turning your head back towards him, back so you had to look at him. He smiles softly, upon seeing your pretty eyes open for him.
You give him a little whimper. He grinds the firmness of his cock against your heat again, so, so close to being perfect. It’s like torture. You know what he looks like, what she feels like. You want to taste the saltiness of his precum that dribbles onto a little pool, want to be able to see the way it collects at the uncut tip.
“Princess…” The nickname is patronizing, with the way he tilts your chin back to look at him, out of your daydream. “Where’d you go?”
You can’t help but bashfully look away again, despite Kuroro’s attempts to get your eyes to meet his again.
A soft puff of air hits the shell of your ear, Kuroro exhaling, perhaps laughter, before your body is revealed to your apartment and Kuroro sits back. His hands slide up your stomach, your thighs. His thumbs press into the fat, encouraging you to let him just have a little look at the way your cute bedtime panties had a damp little spot on them.
“Pense de toi,” You whisper, using your knee to urge Kuroro to come back to you, back to kissing you. He obliges, hand following the bend of your hip, your knee, slowly extending your leg, waiting for the muscles to shake, waiting for your knees to turn towards each other when he exposed you too much—
Instead, your shamelessness moves slowly. You gently guide his other hand to slide past the wetness of your panties, to gently tuck them to the side and expose the wetness slipping through the velvet folds. Kuroro’s mouth waters. The kiss he shares with you is smooth and slick, his tongue sliding along yours.
As he pulls away slowly, there’s a strand of saliva that holds between the both of you. Before he can break it with his tongue, his fingers, you quickly reach up to grab his face, smooshing his cheeks together. Saliva collects on his tongue, and you can’t help but press your thumb against the muscle.
Kuroro’s lips close around the digit slowly, before his head dips down, leaving sloppy kisses across your chest, at the hinge of your thigh. All he lets touch your pussy is cool air, and the occasional hot breath. Despite your little nudges with your thighs, Kuroro refuses and refuses. You can feel the way his teasing zips through your veins, with the little bites left here and there and—
It’s so unexpected, when Kuroro swipes a fat, wet line through the folds of your pussy, causes your hands to fly to his hair, for a moan to fly through your lips. You can’t cover it in time, and Kuroro smiles with pride. His tongue swirls around your clit a few times, before he brings his face level with your chest. He rolls the buds of your nipples, lets you drag your pussy across his still-covered cock.
Both of your releases roll through you, ebbs and flow in an unexplainable synchronicity. They roll through your bodies, almost unnoticed by the unhurried pace you kept.
It’s fine, though. You’re only able to continue your acquisition of Kuroro’s sleepwear if he continues to cum in it. Kuroro’s face is cute when it’s pink, when he’s whining your name into your neck and the two of you are left sticky and nearly connected. Nearly connected, because the condoms are in the bedroom and it feels too good to stop the rutting against each other.
Kuroro makes sure you received your earlier wish, from in the car. That you’re able to shower in your own bathroom tonight. He joins you, enjoying the tighter fit and the eucalyptus and lavender.
In all honesty, he just doesn’t want to have to stop touching. There’s soap and lotion and he stands next to you while you both brush your teeth. His toothbrush hadn’t been put away yet from the last time he was there.
In the light of your salt lamp, the room is filled with a warm glow. Freshly lit incense, lavender vanilla, fills the air. You have trouble sleeping without the same comforts every night. Kuroro doesn’t mind. Your bed is a thousand times more comfortable than his. He’s a welcome guest by this point
The brown noise machine whirs low in the background, keeping your eyelids opening and closing. Kuroro returns the long blinks, like little discreet messages of adoration. As if there was anything discreet about the way he felt for you.
Instead of your weighted blanket, you cuddle with Kuroro under the chill of your duvet and silk sheets. He shifts and tilts his head, creating a perfect spot for you to press your face against. You eagerly take up his offer, taking a deep, content breath as you press up against him, his hand around your back and pulling you closer.
This was nice. Come morning, come time to get out of bed, he would be a gentleman again. There would be no more wandering hands, no more kisses given out liberally. Instead he’d politely drink your coffee, maybe give you a kiss on the cheek as he walked out of your apartment.
You choose not to dwell on the future.
#chrollo x reader#chrollo lucilfer x reader#kuroro x reader#kuroro#honeypie#when i said last night he used to warm my pussy this is what i was talking about#also dvorak is such an amazing composer PLEASE listen to the linked song while they're at the symphony#his lil cherub banner i think its so darlingggggggg#i will ramble now.#the thing with ten million jenny is that right now they are NOT HAPPY AND GOOFY LIKE THEY ARE HERE !!!!!!!!!!#and i cant stand it AKLSJDHFAKLSJDFH#HAPPY SUNDAY KURORORI LOVERS !!!!!#its sunday it means its chrollo's day#GODS remember when i used to be able to end fics#those were the days#swooning over kuroro in this to this day#the only good thing about my days of drug use was that i used to write shit like this in one sitting
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Liz Bourke Reviews A Fire Born of Exile by Aliette de Bodard
October 21, 2023
A Fire Born of Exile is Aliette de Bodard’s second novel-length Xuya universe space opera. It’s a compelling, atmospheric tale of consequences, romance, and revenge. (I should note that I’m mentioned in the acknowledgements, which may cause you to consider me a biased observer.)
Minh is the daughter of the prefect of the Scattered Pearls Belt, raised in sheltered luxury, her future laid out for her regardless of her own desires. Her mother is emotionally distant at best, though it would be more accurate to categorise her as abusive. A brief moment of rebellion sees Minh, in disguise, attending the Tiger Games to enjoy the entertainment: in the aftermath of a riot, she’s rescued from a kidnapping attempt by the mysterious ‘‘Alchemist of Streams and Hills,’’ the cultured, cosmopolitan scholar Sương Quỳnh and her companion, the mindship Guts of Sea.
Thiên Hoà is a struggling engineer keeping a business going with her sister, Thiên Dung. Hoà’s elder sister, a scholar, was disgraced in the aftermath of a rebellion, the Ten Thousand Flags Uprising, and is years dead, while Dung, whose skills include working on mindships, is very ill. Dung was supposed to take a job repairing a very badly wrecked mindship, Flowers at the Gates of the Lords, but her illness means Hoà needs to go in her place, pretending to skills she doesn’t have, if they’re to keep going. When she visits her dead elder sister’s grave, she encounters a cultured, attractive upper-class stranger who corresponded with the elder sister before the Uprising making offerings there: Quỳnh. Quỳnh offers to help Hoà with the mindship job, and Hoà accepts. But Hoà suspects that Quỳnh is ‘‘hurtling along some private path to some disastrous, distant conflagration.’’ Hoà doesn’t really want the risk of associating with someone who might well set others on fire along with herself.
Quỳnh had a different name, once. A survivor of the Uprising – from the wrong side – she’s planned for revenge for years: Revenge on the prefect who put down the rebellion and on the general, General Tuyết, who stood by her side. Tuyết, who had once denounced Quỳnh to the magistrate to be condemned to death. Now she and Guts of Sea are putting their plans into motion, and she has left her toddler child (also a mindship) in another person’s care in order to execute it. Quỳnh does not expect to survive her revenge, but she plans to ruin the lives of all the wealthy, powerful people who were happy to condemn an innocent woman to death before she dies. She didn’t expect to meet Hoà. She didn’t expect to be attracted to her. There’s – just barely – room for a small kindness to Hoà in her plan. There’s no room at all for attraction.
There’s a saying about best laid plans and how often they go awry. In this case, it definitely applies.
De Bodard has said that A Fire Born of Exile was inspired by The Count of Monte Cristo, and while I can’t remember much of the original (it was not formative literature for me, I do not recommend reading it aged ten), the revenge plot that teeters a little off the rails because the avenger catches an unfortunate case of compassion for the collateral damage – and because other people’s choices tilt the scales – is a fascinating one. This doesn’t mean that Quỳnh abandons her revenge, but it does end up looking different than she anticipated. That happens in part because her burgeoning relationship with Hoà, and Hoà’s resolute determination not to be part of Quỳnh’s revenge, pushes her off-balance. And in part because Minh, and the choices Minh makes as she tries to navigate a way out from underneath her mother and her stepmother without losing herself, end up having consequences Quỳnh didn’t entirely take into account.
De Bodard’s work is often concerned with power: with the indifference or cruelty of people who hold it and the difficulties of finding ethical paths to any kind of real justice or fair dealing in societies that enforce hierarchical structureswith exemplary legal violence and call it just; with the problems posed by power differentials in interpersonal relationships even when all parties try to act with kindness and good faith; with the responsibilities owed by parental figures to their children and the power that parental figures and teachers have to help or harm those children by action or omission. In A Fire Born of Exile, Minh’s family situation mirrors in microcosm the greater injustices of her society, a smaller and perhaps more intensely personal version of the injustice that Quỳnh once suffered at Minh’s mother’s hands. Hoà, who has never expected either justice or revenge but who has not let the injustice in her make her cruel or cynical, changes them both.
Minh’s growing recognition of her mother’s cruelty, her longing to be valued, to be loved, and her eventual realisation that she’ll never get this from her mother, is painfully well-drawn. So too is the romance between Hoà and Quỳnh, a romance that is against each of their better judgement. For Quỳnh, Hoà is a breath of happiness but a terrible vulnerability, and though she knows that her commitment to revenge means their romance is doomed, she can’t quite draw back from it either. For Hoà, Quỳnh is unexpectedly compelling, fascinating, someone who makes her feel something new, but she’s afraid of the consequences of Quỳnh’s revenge, for Quỳnh and for her. Their relationship is fraught with that push-and-pull, but the ultimate resolution feels decidedly earned.
A Fire Born of Exile opens with a riot and doesn’t let up from there. Poisonings, intrigue, terrible secrets and tense confrontations combine in a tense, accomplished space opera, told with de Bodard’s usual vividness and verve. For my money, it’s an even better novel than The Red Scholar’s Wake, which I loved.
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DCA Info Part 45: Tri-Rosette Outfits 🌹
Style: Classical
A brand that displays the elegance of the Princess Aurora. The clothing designs are derived from the 15th-century dresses and have the signature colors of the three fairies as well as the iconic pink and blue of Aurora along with rose accessories. This is Briar's preferred brand.
Sleeping Rose
"Peaceful and comforting is the embrace of eternal slumber, when will the prince wake the sleeping princess?"
The outfit: This soft pink dress features an off shoulder neckline with a rose pink wrap that includes plum and black lace and is held by a chain of soft pink roses and gold pearl beads cascading to the right side of the dress and is attached to a rose pink ruffle attachment. The sleeves are bishop ones with the cuffs being a darker shade of pink and feature plum colored buttons and ruffles. The skirt of the dress appears to be mermaid style with three ruffles, the first being rose pink, the second soft pink and the third plum. The footwear consists of a pair of soft pink heels with gold pearl beads and soft pink roses.
Accessories: The accessories include a plum headband with a soft pink rose attached to it. The only other accessory featured is a soft pink choker with plum ruffle trim a pink rose brooch with a magenta gem.
Blooming Romance
"Roses are said to be the flower that represents love, then wearing it will surely find you your fated prince."
The outfit: This medieval inspired dress is mostly purple, with the bodice having a fan shape with pale pink ruffle trim. The puff sleeves are transparent, have gold trim and have a pink, magenta and lavender rose pattern. The dress' skirt is comprised of two layers with the first one being transparent mauve with details at the end that resemble rose stained glass white the dress' second layer is a violet ombre skirt that fades to lavender at the end and has an elegant pattern on it.
Accessories: The accessories include a gold crown with lavender, magenta and pink flowers and is attached to a transparent sparkly mauve veil. Other accessories include pink rose earrings with purple circle gems and a gold belt with decorative swirls with one side having a pink roses and purple circular gems.
Silky Rose Bouquet
"Beauty and grace, the scent of roses waft through the air as a fair maiden goes out for a stroll"
The outfit: This elegant ensemble features a white and lavender bodice with gold trim dividing both colors and short pale pink ruffle sleeves. The skirt is made up of two layers, with the first one being a pale pink ruffle lace one while the other is white with lavender elegant patterning, the white portion of the skirt also features various gold bead chains. The footwear consists of a pair of lavender shoes with gold soles and swirl details.
Accessories: The accessories included are a white hat with a bunch of pale pink roses serving as the top of the hat alongside a lavender and white ribbon. There is also a lavender choker with pale pink ruffles. Other accessories include a pair of fuchsia rose earrings, a three part fuchsia brooch in the center of the bodice neckline attached to four gold bead chains, and a pair of white opera length gloves.
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Nomination Overview - Slow Burn
Sometimes you want to sit down and really enjoy your journey through a story. You want a slow burn. And boy, do we have some fics for you in that category. 10 nominations so far have the "slow burn" tag.
Title: greener grasses
Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31163336/chapters/79676620
Fandom: Dream SMP
Author: Apocynaceae
Relationships: Quackity/Schlatt, Quackity&Karl, Quackity/Eret
Characters: Quackity, Schlatt, Karl Jacobs, BadBoyHalo, Awesamdude, Ponk, Tommyinnit
Length of the work: 569,475 words (incomplete fic)
Genre: AU, Crossover, Drama, Horror, Modern AU, Post-Apocalyptic AU, Slow Burn, Time Travel, College AU
Type: Fic
Summary: Twenty-two years after the Survival Multiplayer event, Quackity has dreams of attending a law program in a walled city out West. Desperate to pay for expenses during his next semester at ManbergU, he accepts a TA position with his former professor. It's Quackity's last chance to get out of Manberg. It's his worst mistake.
Features ghosts, time travel, possession, alternate universes, nonconsensual drug use, academic misconduct like you would not believe, an apocalypse, and midterm drama.
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Title: Last of Us + Tntduo
Link: here
Fandom: Dream SMP
Author: ashthefrogprin
Relationships: Quackity/Wilbur
Characters: Quackity, Wilbur
Length of the work: not applicable
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, AU, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Apocalyptic AU, Romance, Slow Burn
Type: Art
Summary: A series of images depicting quackbur in a The Last of Us AU, followed by a brief summary of a few scenes the artist was imagining. Wilbur has a shotgun; Quackity has an axe. They're both traveling across the country together trying to find a safe harbor with other survivors-- and, as it turns out, being in close quarters with someone during life-threatening situations means the two of you tend to bond. Odd thing, that.
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Title: (this is) hungry work
Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33034354/chapters/81996970
Fandom: Dream SMP
Author: bluenote
Relationships: Quackity/Schlatt, Connor&Schlatt, Karl/Sapnap
Characters: Quackity, Schlatt, Niki, Connor, Karl, Sapnap, Tubbo, Tommy, Jambo (the cat)
Length of the work: 36,965 words
Genre: AU, Canon-Divergent, Character Study, Domestic/Slice-of-life, Fix-It, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Slow Burn, Smut
Type: Fic
Summary: After surviving his heart attack and being forced to get sober, Schlatt gains some empathy.
He also gains some weight.
Those two things seem to be inextricably linked.
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Title: if - then - else
Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45779260/chapters/115204942
Fandom: 3rd Life SMP
Author: anonymous
Relationships: Etho & Tango, Bdubs & Tango, Bdubs & Etho & Tango, Jimmy Solidarity & Martyn Littlewood, Jimmy Solidarity & Tango, Martyn Littlewood & Scott Smajor, Martyn Littlewood & Tango, GeminiTay & Pearl, Jimmy Solidarity/Scott Major, Bdubs/Etho
Characters: TangoTek, Bdubs, Etho, Martyn Littlewood, Jimmy Solidarity, Scott Smajor, GeminiTay, Mumbo
Length of the work: 69,103 words (unfinished fic)
Genre: Action/Adventure, AU, Romance, Slow Burn, Space AU, Sci-Fi AU
Type: Fic
Summary: Tango wakes up in a hospital with no memories and a moderately concerned pair of crewmates. Along with a few of the others in the same ward as him, he attempts to recover his memories, navigate a few significant obstacles, and figure out just how he got here.
OR
a space opera au that started as something very self indulgent and slowly developed a plot bigger than the walls of the hospital it began in. now with space chases and strange new planets!
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Title: the wedding before everything went wrong
Link: here
Fandom: Hermitcraft SMP
Author: terracottakore
Relationships: etho/cleo
Characters: cleo, etho
Length of the work: not applicable
Genre: Angst, Drama, Family, Humour, Slow Burn
Type: Art
Summary: etho and cleo wedding
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Title: Beta Testing
Rating: E-rated
Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27662032/chapters/67689973
Fandom: Hermitcraft SMP
Author: Shadowfire_RavenPheonix
Relationships: Grian/Iskall85, Grian/GoodtimesWithScar, Grian/BdoubleO, GoodtimesWIthScar/BdoubleO, Grian/Xisuma, Grian/Keralis
Characters: Grian, Iskall85, GoodtimesWithScar, BdoubleO, Xisuma, Docm77, Tango, ImpulseSV, Etho, VintageBeef, Keralis
Length of the work: 100,214 words (incomplete fic)
Genre: Angst, AU, Character Study, Domestic/Slice-of-life, Drama, Friendship, Humour, Hurt/Comfort, Omegaverse, Slow Burn, Smut
Type: Fic
Summary: Grian was nervous when he was invited to join the HermitCraft server, because unbeknownst to anyone, the popular family friendly entertainment server is also an ACTIVE A/B/O server behind the scenes. After, having spent so much time with them and making so many amazing friends while on the UA (or Unavailable) list during season six, he's decided to make it more official and join the Active Available List for season seven. For Grian, however, the switch is going to be life changing.
A journey of sexual self discovery and experimentation.
Not Your Typical A/B/O
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Title: Knock The Ice From My Bones
Rating: E-rated
Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/35887708
Fandom: Hermitcraft SMP
Author: foryou-theworld, thesoftestofbois
Relationships: Technoblade/Phil Watson, Dream/Wilbur Soot, Technoblade/Phil Watson/Wilbur Soot/Dream
Characters: Technoblade, Philza, Wilbur Soot, Dream
Length of the work: 214,000 words (incomplete fic)
Genre: AU, Fantasy AU, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Royalty AU, Slow Burn, Smut
Type: Fic
Summary: Hybrids Wilbur and Dream have spent years under King Schlatt's rule, serving as bedwarmers and confidants and spies at their king's demand. When Schlatt's latest grab for power fails, though, they're traded away as spoils of war to the victors, the hybrid kings of the Antarctic Empire.
Kings Philza and Technoblade rule the south with a confidence that makes it easy to forget that hybrids are treated as lesser in other parts of the world. Wilbur and Dream's arrival is just another instance of people finding their freedom on the ice.
Wilbur and Dream are determined to find information valuable enough to earn their freedom. Phil and Techno are focused on putting their kingdom back together, although they're a little distracted by their intriguing new arrivals.
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Title: One Long Season of Waiting
Rating: E-rated
Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42741399/chapters/107375079
Fandom: Dream SMP
Author: Anonymous
Relationships: Quackity/Schlatt, Quackity/Wilbur, Quackity/Eret, Quackity/Techno, Quackity/Philza, Quackity/Foolish, Quackity/Wilbur/Eret/Techno/Foolish/Philza
Characters: Quackity, Schlatt, Wilbur, Techno, Eret, Philza, Foolish
Length of the work: 490,718 words
Genre: AU, Domestic/Slice-of-life, Drama, Fantasy AU, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Omegaverse, Romance, Royalty AU, Slow Burn, Smut
Type: Fic
Summary: Polyamory was a relatively new development in the world of nobility, but when the emperor was looking to add another consort to his flock, it was Quackity’s job to ensure that Schlatt was the one chosen for the position. As the duke of one of the four major duchies of the Antarctic Empire, Schlatt was a political powerhouse for sure, and Quackity couldn’t be more proud of his protector. All they had to do was get through the consort trials and then Schlatt would be in, and Quackity could continue to support his partner from the shadows, where he could be safe and protected.
Of course, there is a chance the plan devolved almost immediately upon execution, and Quackity found himself getting far more contact with the royal flock and the other consort candidates than he ever could have expected.
THE SHORT OF IT: A Fantasy/Royalty AU that features unconventional A/B/O dynamics, political worldbuilding, a heavy emphasis on trauma recovery and found family dynamics, and soap-opera levels of non-communication. And also, there’s romance. See forenotes for more details.
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Title: Sword and Smoke
Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52674127/chapters/133363822
Fandom: 3rd Life SMP
Author: apollothetransboy
Relationships: Martyn Littlewood/Rendog, Martyn Littlewood & Jimmy (SolidarityGaming), Jimmy (SolidarityGaming)/Cleo (ZombieCleo)
Characters: Martyn Littlewood, Rendog, Jimmy (SolidarityGaming)
Length of the work: currently 50k (incomplete fic)
Genre: Angst, AU, Canon-Divergent, Character Study, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt-no-comfort, Romance, Slow Burn
Type: Fic
Summary: Ren let out a sympathetic noise and reached out a hand, only to find that he was too far from Martyn to touch him.
Limited Life, which was won by Impulse, has drawn to a close, and with the dawn of the next seasons approaching, Ren is at the forefront of Martyn's mind. Somehow, in his absence, Martyn has convinced himself that Ren couldn't possibly love him anymore. Maybe, even, that he had chosen to forget him and all the pain he brings. And when Ren does return for Way Life, and the consecutive three seasons, Martyn scrambles for the smallest of crumbs to prove his truth.
With the odds stacked against them, though, Martyn finds himself always drawn back to him, whether by mechanics of the game or by what seems impossible chance. Time and time again he proves himself willing to go very far to believe his own lies, especially when the truth is something far more painful, though he will have to know it eventually—that he was, and will always be something that Ren would do anything, anything, to protect.
or—four lives in which martyn and ren fall apart and fall back together
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Title: Amoransia
Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52729348
Fandom: Crossover Fandom
Author: Phospheos
Relationships: Gem/Pearl, Gem&Pearl, Grian/Scar, Joel/Lizzie, Mumbo/Grian, Mumbo/Grian/Scar
Characters: Pearl, Gem, Tilly the Dog, Grian, Mumbo, Impulse, Scar, fWhip, Lizzie, Joel, Evil Xisuma, Cleo
Length: 9,990 words (incomplete fic)
Genre: Action/Adventure, AU, Hurt/Comfort, Modern AU, Slow Burn, Superhero/Superpower AU
Type: Fic
Summary: amoransia;
n. the melodramatic thrill of unrequited love; the longing to pine for someone you can never have, wallowing in devotion to some impossible person who could give your life meaning by their very absence.
Glimpse into the lives of two that hold an eternal bond through both company and absence, two that hold a safety to the other that it never needs to be said in the first place. There lies a love that time and time again will shine through as long as the universe allows them to hold it, as they get torn apart and reunited time and time again. It is messy and out-of-order, but that's them, and that means they're together.
And wouldn't have it any other way.
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See something you want to offer or request in the exchange? Horrified that a classic of the genre isn't represented yet (to be fair, maybe we didn't get permission)? Join our discord and sign up today!
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Edward Steichen, Princess Irina Alexandrovna Yusupov, ca. 1924
Princess Youssoupoff (formerly Grand Duchess Irini of Russia and also Princess Xenia) wearing a black dress with black turban, and an opera length strand of pearls, standing in profile by a table.
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Some fashion references for @gonzague-if of my Prince Médée. I tried to keep a similar color scheme for her masculine and feminine attire, red, blue, and yellow/gold, although they are a lighter shade for the gown. Also, considering certain fashions were both popular with men and women at the time, like long hair, heels, cosmetics, ect. Médée prefers to go with a more natural appearance when dressed in her suits, just a touch of rouge on the lips and cheeks, her natural shoulder length waves half tied back with ribbon, simple pearl earrings and her insignia ring bearing the de Gonzague crest. It helps a lot when she wants to give off a more professional persona, as many people tend to take her more seriously when she presents herself in masculine fashion. She does still have more feminine wardrobe, too. Partly out of spite for her father, forcing her to impersonate her brother growing up, she's free of him now she can dress up in pretty gowns whenever she wishes! Granted ladies' fashion tends to be more time-consuming and elaborate, but it also has its share of uses. Médée has found it easier to get people to trust her when she presents in feminine attire, and their are advantages to having people underestimate her. Also, women's cosmetics and shape wear make it much easier for Médée to alter her appearance when she wants to avoid being recognized. A different wig or concealing her natural hair color with powder, changing up her usual clothes and makeup, adjusting her stays to make her décolletage more noticeable. Médée knows most people can be easily distracted by a pretty face and cleavage.
Médée is naturally a tall woman with an athletic build and square jawline, and combined with her father raising her to be "Phillippe" throughout her teens and young adulthood, add a sharp suit and stays fitted to minimize her bustline, Médée can easily convince the Marquis de Caylus she's a wealthy man of title and education seeking Aurora's hand. Although it is interesting to imagine Chartres and Nevers reactions when Médée shared with them her real name and Pronouns. Chartres probably had an inkling early on, after all his own father used to dress in feminine attire at court, and considering his fondness for Opera and the theater, he'd be familiar with Julie d'Aubigny, and possibly may have even seen La Maupin preform at court. Nevers most likely was taken by surprise at first, believing Gonzague was just a very pretty man.
#gonzague if#Prince Phillippe de Gonzague aka Médée#fashion ref#character lore#Médée dresses how she pleases#but her horrible father helped her learn their are advantages to playing folks on their gender biases
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Attending galas was one of the bigger perks of joining the Wayne family in Selina's opinion. The children were never so enthused as she was, but that mattered little to her. Selina was a woman who loved to be seen.
Even and especially if that meant being draped over the arm of a handsome man. She had always believed that the natural counterpart to stealing was flaunting. Why have what others cannot envy?
So as the boys tugged their ties and bemoaned their state of dress Selina was primping. Smoothing her hands down the length of her white satin bodice. The gala tonight was sea themed so she'd had Bruce commission something special for her. It was a faithful recreation of Christian Dior's 1949 dress Junon. The large scalloped skirt details that would have looked very tacky in any other style shined just the way that Dior had designed them to with over three thousand hand sown sequins. Over every white petal curve blue and white sparkles caught the light like drops of water.
She'd had her hair jelled into finger waves; little black curls left plastered to her forehead. She was only waiting for Bruce to deliver her jewelry.
"Any idea what he's picked out?" Selina asked Dick as he leaned against the wall beside her mirror.
"something extravagant I'm sure" he sighed
Selina and Bruce had a game they played, where he picked out her jewelry and she always complained that it was too plain. Selina was the kind of woman that would always be dripping in diamonds if she could. And Bruce while rich had old fashioned tastes.
"well I hope that he'll do better than a string of pearls, I can't let every old biddy in the building out do me in that respect."
Dick cast an uncomfortable look to Barbara, his date, who Selina could see through the mirror was pulling long white opera gloves on.
"The Waynes don't wear pearls." Barbara corrected while she ran a hand over the chain of sapphires that sat snug round her neck.
Selina paused as she was putting away her lipgloss. "oh, I see. Well, all the better. everyone else will be wearing pearls, and when I won't be, it'll be easier to show them up."
Bruce appeared then at the top of the stairs in his dark blue suit A White satin box in hand. Everyone stood back as he descended the stairs and held the long rectangular box out before him.
He lifted the lid and revealed the necklace. It was sizable. Three long rows of rectangular cut diamonds encased in silver made up a two finger wide chain that plummeted low and embraced a massive blue diamond, like to hands cradling it gently with softly curling fingers.
The entire setting was breathtaking but not so much as the center diamond that was almost as large as Selina's palm. Her eyes sparkled at the sight of such an impressive stone.
When Bruce secured the heavy thing around her neck she couldn't believe how well it all went together. The light muted color of the diamond made it somehow less overpowering to the outfit than a sapphire of similar size would have been. But it shined with the dress as did her gelled hair and shiny lips. It was utterly perfect.
"No earrings to go with it?" She teased instead of admitting defeat.
"what earrings could possibly compare?" Bruce replied.
outfit under the cut
listen are these wildly out of the box items to style together? yes, but Selina is a go big or go home kinda gal and I think this fits her literally to a T.
#Selina Kyle#batman#bruce wayne#junon#did this start out as a setup for a sad reflection on Bruce's relationship with pearls? yes#did it get derailed by Selina's natural propensity for fahsion? also yes#the hope diamond#Junon dress#christian dior
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Mal & Evie Met Gala 2022 looks, bc I love historical fashion & also VK style lol
The Met Gala theme was Gilded Glamour, meant to reference Gilded Age fashions, which was a period that spanned from about 1870-1900, and especially the fashions of the rapidly industrializing New York City. Met Gala looks are meant to match the theme while also bringing out new and original designs, giving the theme a modern twist
For Mal’s I leaned into her novel characterization as a tomboy and took inspiration from men’s fashion of the Gilded Age; particularly in the pants, which have a period-style closure at the waist and a straight wide leg with a crease ironed down the middle. I have her signature dragon-heart emblem as a gold charm hung in the fashion of a pocketwatch from her cold-shoulder tuxedo top (the top itself is not period-inspired outside of the high folded collar, but is a more modern take on a men’s suit top), which is paired with a wide period-style necktie that’s secured with an emerald brooch and matching gold & emerald tie-pin.
For her jacket I was inspired to design a 1890s-women’s riding jacket in bright green translucent plastic, with a dragon flame detailing at the collar that’s mirrored on her boots, which are also inspired by women’s boots of that decade & would button up the side
Evie gets a full bustle skirt, because what better excuse for a fashion queen to go all out. The bustle is modernized by being attached to an off the shoulder mini-dress. The top of the dress is actually inspired by 1870s fashion plates, with what would’ve been a solid fabric replaced by bejewelled red netting going up into a high collar and down into what’s become a deep V plunge. Ordinarily the sleeves would become fitted & continue down at least past the elbow, but I’ve left the poofs on their own to make room for opera length gloves that have been altered to leave 2 fingers & the thumb uncovered asymmetrically, in true Descendants fashion
The under-layer of the bustle is pleated sheer red sparkly chiffon, over which sits layers of bustled royal blue silk taffeta decorated with red silk roses and pearls, topped with a dramatic red silk bow.
Both looks are done in their characters’ signature color palette (pre-d3)
#descendants#disney descendants#clothing design#met gala 2022#descendants mal#descendants evie#colored pencil#traditional art#can u tell which one of Evie’s I colored first and when I got sick of doing it lmao#listen I spend long enough on that bustle the FIRST time I wasn’t gonna do it again#potentially-art#malvie tbh
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[image description: a purple banner that has the words “work in progress” on it. end of description]
Epistolary fic/fake reddit post, take 2 - Percy at r/relationshipadvice.
Notes: I process things through a layer of separation, which is part of how this was born— Jason seems to me to be a good candidate for the same kind of "overwhelmingly matches with AGAB....except" that I have. It took me until I was halfway through it that I realized I got carried away working on it is because Halloween is coming up, which means I dress in my Gender Euphoria coat, and apparently I have anticipatory event feelings I had to work out!
So yeah, this happened.
It can be read as a standalone, but it does take place in the greater stellarverse (if you remember with cream, firstly holy wow I'm so happy you're still here and secondly it's a little after that). No powers.
More notes and pinging at the end! This one got kinda long.
So I (26M) have been with my fiance (25NB, AMAB) since high school. He came out to me last year. (Usually he uses he/him. He describes his gender as 85% guy, 10% lady and 5% pop princess drag queen. Sorry, pronouns might get confusing.)
We got engaged a few weeks ago which I am still completely losing my mind over. The ring I got him is really nice. It has abalone and amethyst on it and it's made of tungsten. Except for the amethyst it matches mine (I have a pearl, which I am just now realizing is funny for reasons that will become clear). 85% of the time, he's deliriously happy showing it off to anyone who will look. The thing is, it's really masculine because when he's feeling masculine he feels really masculine.
He's still pretty new to the whole nonbinary thing and kinda anxious about everything, so we've been using codes to talk about it. It's a little easier to tell me "I'm in ten percent mode" than "I feel like a woman today". He came up with a nickname for her, too. We call her Pearl (not the real nickname but close, it's something you can wear as jewelry).
So anyway Pearl definitely likes the ring, but she's conflicted about it. She hasn't complained and she never will. But last night we went on a date to an opera, and she wore this absolutely stunning floor-length gown and silk gloves and a wig that went all the way down her back. I was so busy gaping like a horny fish I didn't even notice she was wearing the ring on a chain around her neck instead of her finger.
I didn't ask her about it. I'm pretty sure it would have embarrassed her and she would have put it on and sucked up the dysphoria because she thought I was unhappy. But it gave me an idea.
I want to take her out to a really nice restaurant and give her a ring that matches her name. Something feminine and pretty she can feel good in. I want her to feel like Juliet on her balcony. Like Taylor Swift in the music video for Love Story.
I just don't want to put her on the spot, you know? I don't want to draw attention to it if it'll make her feel crappy, but this is super new for both of us so I have no idea what I'm doing. He did drag shows for two years before Pearl perked her head up and let him know she was a part of him.
She has a hard time expressing herself because she grew up with a lot of very strict pressure to adhere to gender norms. She's one of those people who can easily see that it's bullshit, except for when she internalizes it. She makes herself the exception to her own acceptance.
It breaks my heart. Sometimes she cries about it, which is actually a huge improvement. Before Pearl, he couldn't cry except in literal life or death situations. He kinda still can't, but she can.
She likes the opportunities to have a few milestones, like coming downstairs in a beautiful dress while I'm waiting at the door in a tux with a bouquet of pink hyacinths. He went to prom with me, but she's never been to a dance. My housemate helped me buy her a (not-actually) pearl bracelet for her birthday, and she cried and laughed and told me she loved me and demanded I put it on her. (My hands were super sweaty so it took me a couple tries, lol. It looks great on her.)
I imagine myself taking her hand while we wait for dessert. Telling her how beautiful she is. How much I love her, that I can't wait to introduce her to people as my wife, that she's as knock-out drop-dead gorgeous as he is knock-out drop-dead handsome. Tell her how proud I am to be seen with her on my arm. How much her happiness means to me.
I imagine getting on one knee and taking her hand and asking "Antoinette Pearl Smith (not her real full name either), will you do me the honor of being my bride?"
I imagine her crying. That's where my imagination starts letting my insecurity interfere.
Sometimes I see her smiling and crying and laughing and asking me to put it on her. Sometimes I imagine her bursting into tears and having a panic attack because I reminded her. I feel like there's a pretty even chance that it's either exactly the validation she needs from me or it's the worst possible plan I could come up with.
She's incredibly elegant, classy and sophisticated, but she has a distinctly glam edge to her style. We get stares when we're out in public and it's a Pearl day. She's convinced it's because she doesn't pass (she can sing high bass parts and she's over 7 ft tall in her 8-inch dagger pumps and yes that turns me on), but I've seen the way people look at her. Most of them are staring for the same reason I do: because she's an Amazonian bombshell who leaves you breathless and makes your heart race, just by entering your field of vision.
When I say she's outrageously attractive, I mean the second word very literally. People are drawn to her. They can't help it. It's natural when a goddess walks among mortals, I guess. ;)
(And yeah, sometimes people are horrible and we've heard plenty of slurs, but we live near a liberal city steeped in queer culture and history, which helps. I've taken a few punches, but I've thrown them back too, and there's always somebody nearby who checks in with us and makes sure we're okay afterwards. All things considered, we could be in a much less trans-friendly situation.)
I guess I really want to make sure she knows I'm attracted to her and in love with her, and that I would be even if I'd never met him— honestly, if I'd met Pearl first, we probably would have started dating a lot sooner because I already knew I liked tall, blonde, brilliant, sophisticated women, and that's exactly what she is.
I want her to feel like I'm not just going along with it for her sake. When I picture our wedding, I get choked up whether I'm imagining him in a suit or her in a gown. I want her to know that there's no facet of her I'm not captivated by.
Am I overthinking this? Am I being ridiculous? (Yes.) Should I ask her girlfriends for advice? Should I ask my girlfriends for advice?? Should I go hang around at some gay bars and see if I can find any elders who can talk some sense into me???
Should I talk to her mom (actually her sister, long story)? My mom? Maybe my kid sister can lend me some of her childhood wisdom...she's very, very good at keeping surprises (never secrets).
I don't know. I'm rambling. I started writing this post because my BFF (27M) is teaching her to sew bc she's way too tall even for most plus size shops and she just finished her very first circle skirt. she's been spinning around all day like a toddler in a cinderella costume. It's so fucking cute. Please help. I may actually be dying.
I'm going to go dance with her now so she stops giving me the sad baby kitten eyes. Thanks in advance if you made it all the way through! Yikes, me.
MORE NOTES: The nickname thing is honestly mostly so I can keep my head on straight as a writer. Her actual nickname is Ruby, which I was not consciously clever enough to remember fits perfectly because ruby is July's birthstone!
Percy's BFF is Grover, and "Antoinette" is a reference to Jason's middle name, which in this 'verse is Anthony.
(Incredibly, this is less than half of what I have written. Whoops.)
Pinging @perseusjackson-jasongrace, my dear beta @elaborateruses and @starlightshadowsworld because you have all encouraged me to do this in the first place and it's been great. 💜💜
#i wrote this#nonbinary!jason grace#jercy#stellarverse#wip wednesday#squeaking in just barely under the wire!!
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Review: "Enchanted Evening Barbie" Fashion doll reproduction from Mattel (1996)
Starting in 1993, with Barbie's 35th anniversary, and lasting for a few years, Mattel began producing reproductions of Barbie dolls and fashions from 1959 through the early 60s. The reproductions were sold in both blonde and brunette, just like the original dolls.
This particular doll is the blonde version of Enchanted Evening Barbie, from 1996. I purchased her for $18.00 USD off of Facebook Marketplace.
Barbie comes in a blue box, with sparkles on the backdrop behind her, which I believe is supposed to look like the night sky. The front reads:
"1960 Fashion and Doll Reproduction
Collector Edition
Enchanted Evening Barbie"
The back shows Barbie standing by some bushes, and reads:
"Stars sparkle overhead. And there's magic in the air. It's the most exciting evening Barbie can remember. The year is 1960, and Barbie wears one of the most popular vintage fashions, Enchanted Evening®️. In her white furry stole, exquisite ice pink satin gown, and opera length gloves, she is the height of early sixties elegance.
This Collector Edition, which reproduced the ensemble #983, is a second chance to start a Barbie®️ doll collection of your own or for a special person in your life. Because you're never too old for Barbie."
It also advertises an ornament of Barbie in the same outfit.
I like the note that you're never too old for Barbie.
Barbie had a lot of papers tucked in her box! One is a postcard asking questions like "How many Barbie dolls do you own?", "How much do you spend on Barbie yearly?", etc. There's also a 2-year warranty, which ended in 1998, 25 years ago as of this post's writing, and an advertisement for a magazine called "Barbie Bazaar", which was marketed towards adult Barbie collectors.
Barbie comes with a doll stand and a pink shell-shaped brush, just like the one my Coca-Cola Party Barbie came with.
Barbie has a tight-fitting light pink satin gown, with a gathered waist, a pink rosette at the hip, with a long draping section off to her left. To accessorize, she wears a furry white stole around her shoulders, which closes with a clasp, long white gloves, sparkly clear open-toe heels, and a white faux-pearl necklace and faux-pearl stud earrings.
She looks so elegant! I just love the aesthetic of 60s Barbie dolls.
Barbie has 5 points of articulation, with movement at her:
Head
Shoulders
Hips
Her arms and legs are a slightly flexible rubbery material, almost like those of 90s Barbie dolls with the click bend knees, but they don't bend.
Barbie has dark blue eyes that look off to her left, and slightly downwards, with light blue eyeshadow, and bright red lipstick. Her nostrils also have a red dot painted in each.
Her long light blonde hair came styled in a high ponytail, with a section of hair wrapped around the hair elastic, and another elastic tied towards the end of her ponytail, but due to age, the elastics have disintegrated in her hair, leaving a clumpy, gluey mess. I had to wash and restyle her hair after these photos.
After washing the elastics out, her hair is very soft! It's densely rooted, so her hair can be styled without showing bald patches, unlike the originals, who were only rooted around the hairline since their hair was intended to be left in the ponytail.
Her necklace came taped down in the back to hold it in place. The tape was very yellowed, but I managed to remove it without leaving any sticky residue.
Here's Barbie's dress without the stole! It gives a very different look.
And here's the dress with the skirt draped in front of her legs.
Here's Barbie's shoes, which are clear open-toed heels with glitter embedded in them. They've yellowed a bit with time, but aren't sticky. They aren't plastic but more of a vinyl, which I was pleasantly surprised by. My grandmother's Barbie and Midge doll's heels were all a thin, brittle plastic that always cracked at the strap. These seem much more durable.
Barbie's toenails are painted the same red as her lips, as are her fingernails.
Overall, I love this doll! She isn't a perfect replica of a 1960s ponytail Barbie doll, but she has her own charm. She's also very easy to find secondhand! I would pay $30.00 USD at most for her, but you can easily find her at $25.00 USD.
This Barbie really is a stunning doll, and I'm very happy to have her in my collection. Now, I'm on the lookout for the brunette Solo in the Spotlight Barbie doll!
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Obscure Characters List - Male Edition (N-Z)
Obscure Characters I love for some reason (N-Z). (By obscure I mean characters that have little to no fanfic written about them. Not necessarily characters nobody’s ever heard of.) Don’t ask me to explain why. UPDATED: Tumblr is being a butt about post length or something so I’m splitting up the lists.
N
Nigel Billingsley (Jumanji 2 and 3)
Night’s Cavalry (Elden Ring)
Nothing (The Night House)
P
Pazuzu (The Exorcist)
Pierre Despereaux (Psych)
Prince Anton Voytek (Vampire 1974)
Prince Escalus (Romeo and Juliet, no particular adaptation)
Prince Quartus (Stardust)
Prince Septimus (Stardust)
Professor Petrie/Phantom of the Opera (Phantom of the Opera 1962)
Peter Quint (Turn of the Screw, the book and maybe some other adaptations. Not the Bly Manor Flanagan show.)
R
Reese Kelly (Scarlet Hollow)
Rene Belloq (Indiana Jones, Raiders of the Lost Ark)
Roland Voight (Hellraiser 2022)
Ronin (Star Trek)
Rorschach (Watchmen)
Rupert Giles (Buffy the Vampire Slayer)
Rusty Nail (Joyride trilogy)
S
Salem Saberhagen (Sabrina the Teenage Witch)
Sam Wayne (Scarlet Hollow)
Silver Surfer/Norrin Radd (Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer)
Simon Jarrett (SOMA)
Sir Lancelot (Night at the Museum 3)
Sportacus (LazyTown)
Starscourge Radahn (Elden Ring)
STEM (Upgrade)
Sutter Cane (In the Mouth of Madness)
T
Thantos DuBaer (Twitches 1 and 2)
The Auditor (Hellraiser: Judgment)
The Babadook (The Babadook)
The Black Knight Ghost (Scooby Doo 2 Monsters Unleashed)
The Curator (Dark Pictures Anthology)
The Designer (Devil’s Carnival 2)
The Djinn/Nathaniel Demerest/Professor Joel Barash/Steven Verdel (Wishmaster series)
The Faun (Pan’s Labyrinth)
The Fox (The Little Prince 1974)
The Jester (The Jester, A Short Horror Film series)
The Kinderfänger (Crypt TV)
The Knight/Tarhos Kovács (Dead by Daylight)
The Look-See (Crypt TV)
The Man (Carnival of Souls)
The Merman (Cabin In The Woods)
The Metal Killer (Stage Fright 2014)
The Mirror (Oculus)
The Narrator (Stanley Parable)
The Other (Hellfest)
The Phantom (Phantom Manor)
The Projectionist (Pearl)
The T-1000/Cop (Terminator 2, Terminator Genisys)
The Tall Man/The Entity (It Follows)
The Thing (The Thing 1982)
The Torn Prince/Royce Clayton (Thirteen Ghosts remake)
The Torso/James “Jimmy” Gambino (Thirteen Ghosts remake)
Thomas Alexander “Alex” Upton (TAU)
Tiger Mask/Dave (You’re Next)
Tommy Ross (Carrie, 1976)
V
Valak (The Conjuring)
Valdack and his real world counterpart (Black Mirror)
Van Pelt (Jumanji 2)
Venable (Wrong Turn 2021)
Viktor (Underworld series)
Viktor Frankenstein/Dr. Whale (Once Upon a Time)
Vladislaus Dracula (Van Helsing 2004)
W
Wade Thornton (Nancy Drew, Ghost of Thornton Hall)
Wesley Wyndam-Pryce (Buffy the Vampire Slayer)
Westley/Dread Pirate Roberts (The Princess Bride)
Wildwind/Dark Skull, Stormy Weathers, and Lightning Strikes (Scooby Doo and the Legend of the Vampire)
“William”/The Headless Figure (Crypt TV)
William “Billy” Butcherson (Hocus Pocus 1 and 2)
X
Xenan the Centaur (Xena Warrior Princess)
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A limited production Collector doll. Celebrate the homecoming of this classic college tradition with this collegiate beauty presented in a formal gown of cream satin with pink netting full skirt. Beautiful faux pearls, opera-length gloves, a bouquet of roses and a silvery keepsake trophy carry on the tradition for alumni and students alike!
A limited production Collector doll
Collegiate beauty presented in a formal gown of cream satin with pink netting full skirt
She wears beautiful faux pearls and opera-length gloves.
Includes a bouquet of roses and a silvery keepsake trophy!
Celebrate the homecoming of this classic college tradition!
Release date: June 1, 2008
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Raoul and Christine's wedding
. The day of their wedding is 12th June, 1882, 3 months after the Final Lair
. During those 3 months before the wedding, Raoul and Christine went to therapy together, help with the repairments of Paris Opera during their free time, sightseeing around Paris during their free times, Raoul and Christine dealing with their wedding and moving plans details etc.
. Their wedding day is an adorable day
. All of Raoul's groomsmen ( including Raoul's brother in laws , Christine's Paris opera Male friends and Raoul's cavalry friends who survived and got out of hospital stays at that point ) are dressed in refined tuxedos with ties/bowties in different shades of purple
. Christine's bridesmaids ( including Raoul's sisters Mathilde and Clothilde, sister in laws, Meg, and Cecile and Christine's Paris Opera girlfriends) are all dressed in beautiful gowns in different shades of purple.
. Raoul was dressed in a black and white tuxedo with a deep purple tie and a white rose corsage on the left chest of his tuxedo coat as he waited at the end of the aisle, trying his best to compose his nerves ( with the help of his groomsmen )
. It was a sunny summer day, the sun was shining bright and the sky was a beautiful shade of blue
. At the sound of the horn signifying the entrance of the bride, the church chorus began singing Lohengrin's Bridal March ( yes, that was the original Here Comes the Bride ), as the bridesmaids all entered with Raoul's nieces and nephews ( who are flower boys and girls )in two straight lines
. The flower boys ans girls all threw flower petals everywhere as they toddled down the aisle with the bridesmaids on the lead
. Then Christine arrived.
. Everyone gasped. Raoul's jaw hit the floor.
. Christine's wedding dress was in a beautiful shade of Ivory, decked with laces, florals and ribbons. The medium length Gloves on her arms are embroidered with silver details, the white heels fit her feet perfectly, the 2 strand necklace round her neck accentuated her loveliness even more, the white rose and Pearl tiara perched on top of her complex hairdo complimented with the long lacy veil attached to the tiara, and she wore her biological mother Lilith Nilsson's earrings
. Christine was a beaming, blushing bride as she walked down the aisle
. Madame Giry had to choke down a sob. Her older daughter shall be wed to the man she truly loves ( and who loves her truly as well )
. Raoul's nieces and nephews are all cheering on top of their lungs as Christine walked down the aisle
. Raoul : * sees Christine walking down the aisle * 🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🔥🔥💗💗💗👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳
. The Bishop of the church officiated the wedding.
. A lot of people are so emotional okay.
. Raoul and Christine been through so much to be together 🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🥺🥺😭😭😭😭🤯🤯🤯🤯
. Vittoria Sorelli has flashbacks on her own wedding day to the late Comte Philippe De Chagny years ago. It was quite similar to this one, and she smiled at the memory as she looked up to one of the shining rainbow frescoes of the church.
. Christine says her vows in French, and Raoul says his in Swedish
. Everyone there was amazed at Raoul's improvement in his Swedish.
. The wedding bands are two simple yet elegant rings with a single diamond encrusted on each of them.
. As the Bishop announced ' I pronounce thee Vicomte et Vicomtess - you may kiss the bride!', Christine just grabbed Raoul by the collar and kissed him
. And the whole venue erupted to thunderous claps and cheers
. Later that night at the De Chagny Manor, a grand reception party was held
. There was a sumptuous buffet, a live chamber orchestra, dancing, laughing and drinking
. Everyone is having a wonderful time. Raoul's nieces and nephews all dancing in a circle, Raoul's sisters dancing with their husbands, Raoul and Christine's friends dancing with each other.
. Raoul and Christine's wedding dance is a waltz to ' La Valse De L'Amour ' 🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🥺🥺🥺🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯
. Raoul's nieces and nephews also performed a play they made up called ' The Singing Princess '. Its a fairytale adaptation of what Raoul and Christine had been through.
. As the party began to go into full swing, and the grown ups became drunk and the children became sugar high, Christine dragged Raoul to Raoul's old room of the Manor before he moves out and the two had their first time on the wedding night.
. The next morning after the wedding, Raoul and Christine waved goodbyes to their loved ones as they board on the carriage from Raoul's old Parisian estate to the port of Le Havre to board on the cruise trip to Stockholm to begin their new lives
https://youtu.be/5C5FOW2ekHo
https://youtu.be/xAJIMBqlGWo
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