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welldonebeca · 6 months

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about offices and feelings (1)

Summary: When Steve is stuck in an elevator with his office crush, he is forced to face his feelings about her. Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fat!F!Reader WC: 1.6k words Warnings: Office AU. Dirty thoughts. Office crushes. Masturbation. Tension. Broken elevators. Fluff.

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Steve Rogers was so stupid. The stupidest of stupid men to have ever been stupid.

After Pepper had insisted on him for months, Tony had a new assistant, and his secretary threatened to sue him for delegating the work to her instead of hiring someone to do it properly.

He hired you, a perfectly adequate and competent personal assistant with very good experience and a track record of being the perfect fit for the job.

The day you walked into the office of Stark Industries was the day Steve Rogers' brain quit its job and never worked properly again.

You were beautiful, as gorgeous as if you had come right out of the Renaissance art he used to study in college, but the women in the paintings didn't hold a candle to you. Their soft jaws were not as beautiful as yours and your round cheeks, their curves not nearly as tempting and mouth-watering as yours.

And it made him feel such shame with his reaction, because you were modest and very professional, and he couldn't speak a word of negativity about your behaviour while his own behaviour was terribly gross.

Every day you were polite to everyone and tidy, and Tony's life was perfectly organised again, while Steve was thrown into a mess of madness and lust.

He was crushing on you, and really - really - hard. Steve was grateful that Tony's office was on a completely different floor of the building, which meant he didn't have to see you all the time, and so he wouldn't have his productivity tanked from not being able to look away from you. He barely saw you once or twice a week.

That was why when he caught your name in his inbox, he opened your email right away, finding a reminder of a meeting that would happen later that day, about the company's near mandatory day in the city park, which you were organising in Tony's name, of course.

Steve wrapped up his work, not wanting to leave you - or the other departments - waiting much, and actually finished ten minutes before it was supposed to happen. It gave him enough time to go to the coffee machine and make you a nice mixture of a cappuccino and hot chocolate, which he knew was your soft spot and favourite drink, and put it in a tall cup before making his own coffee and carrying them to the meeting room.

You were alone, setting up the presentation for Tony when he walked into the room, so focused you didn't even notice him as he put the coffee on the table and sat down, and he had time to adjust his posture before clearing his throat.

"Mister Rogers," you gasped when you saw him, a beautiful grin coming to your lips. "Good afternoon. Always early."

"Miss Y/N," he greeted, smiling, and raising his drink for you. "I got you coffee."

"Thank you," you spoke politely, reaching for it in his hand, and your fingers brushed against him when you picked it up, warm and soft.

You were all soft.

He took in a deep breath from behind the large table, your perfume was very faint in the room, and you smelt so damn good.

Steve would have loved to focus on your face and see your reaction at realising he had made the chocolate-cappuccino mix and not just gone for the mocha button in the machine, but there was something else he couldn't look away from.

You'd gotten up, and you were wearing a pencil skirt.

Steve could see your belly, its curve in all its glory, and all he wanted was to touch you, squeeze you and...

"Is this a mocha?" you asked, snatching his attention to your face.

Steve swallowed down hard, nodding as his cheeks felt like they were set on fire.

"I thought they weren't making mochas anymore," you sounded surprised.

"I mixed it myself," he told you. "The cappuccino and then the hot chocolate, I remember you like it better that way."

You were wide-eyed for a moment, a bit shocked, and smiled.

"Thank you, Mr Rogers," you gasped.

He gulped, nodding quickly. He was so close to a fucking HR summoning.

"You are welcome, miss," he squeezed it out of himself.

And before he could put his foot in his mouth, a group entered the room, greeting you two and taking their seats, and he put himself into his work mind again, which he should have been in since the very beginning.

He did his job like a good head of his department, took notes and offered his opinions, and behaved very correctly.

He also ran away from the meeting room before anyone else and locked himself in his office and his private bathroom once he was alone.

His work day was over anyway, and if anyone asked, he was having a stomach ache.

Steve didn't even have half an ounce of shame in him as he unbuckled his pants in the bathroom stall and pulled out his cock, lust coiling in his belly like a stupid teenager who had just seen a tit for the first time.

Fuck, he would love to see your tits. They were big, enough that he knew they would spill out of his hands easily. They probably were just as soft as you, and probably smelt so good if he buried his face in them.

He wrapped his fingers around himself, closing his eyes as his cock throbbed, neglected in his strict daily routine and already half hard as he jerked himself, muffling his sounds with a hand, afraid of being caught.

It was humiliating, jerking off in the company's bathroom like that, and he couldn't even be ashamed of himself.

He caressed his head, sensitive and shining with precum. Fuck, would you like his cock?

Would you suck it?

Fuck, he throbbed with the thought of your lips around his dick, of you hungry for him to cum down your throat.

He fucked his own hand needy, uncovering his mouth to fondle his balls, trying to be quick.

If it was for him, he would be putting his cum right in your cunt. Fuck, to have you under him, with your ass up, moaning as he fucked you hard and put his cum deep, deep in your cunt.

Steve bit his lower lip, stifling a moan as his balls tightened, and aimed for the toilet as he leaned against the wall, his cum hitting the porcelain right on time as his legs trembled, and breathed through his pursed lips, letting himself go and trying to calm down.

"Damn it," he hissed.

He was so fucked.

Steve hid in his office for another hour, emailing his team and sending the meeting's notes to them, so they would all be informed, and the office was already empty when he walked off, suit over his arm and suitcase in his hand, completely relaxed knowing he wouldn't cross paths with you.

He didn't know how long hiding from you would even work. You were both adults, he was a grown man who knew he was absolutely in the wrong position, and while - so far - it wasn’t something you seemed annoyed with, he didn't know how long it would be until you picked up on it and started to get uncomfortable around him!

Steve wasn't mean, he knew you didn't owe him anything, and the last thing he wanted was for you to think he expected something in return for just being a decent human being around you.

He waved to the janitor as he walked to the lift and pressed the button, waiting for it quietly.

He was ready to go home, have a nice dinner and rest.

And then, when the door opened, he was shocked to see you.

"Mr Rogers," you greeted.

Steve was frozen for a moment, staring at you wide-eyed, and shook himself into walking into the elevator.

"Good afternoon, Miss Y/N," he greeted. "Afternoon? Evening?"

You thought for a brief moment, looking amused.

"Is it six yet?"

He looked at the buttons to see if you had pressed the button to the existing level and then checked his watch.

"Six and two minutes," he told you.

"Evening it is," you decided.

He hummed a quiet confirmation to you, watching the numbers going down.

"Long day?" you asked suddenly.

Steve turned to look at you, surprised by the tentative small talk.

"Yeah," he confirmed, a bit too honest. "Lots of work."

"Yeah," you agreed. "Lots of... stuff."

"Yeah," Steve agreed.

You two exhaled together, and the doors opened in an empty floor, closing right after.

Steve was about to ask you something - anything, whatever was enough to make you feel like he wanted to keep talking - when the metal box you two were in shook and stopped suddenly, and if he didn't reach for you quickly you would have fallen onto the floor.

His heart came to his throat when the lights became black and the elevator started free-falling, and you grabbed him, squeezing him for dear life and screaming in fear.

And then it stopped, not killing you two, but not leaving you comfortable either.

The two of you fell down on your butts, and held you as you panted and sobbed into his neck.

Steve didn't even think before wrapping his arms around you, squeezing you through the panic.

"It's okay," he rubbed your back. "It's okay, we are okay."

You pulled back, looking at his face and then around, opening and closing your mouth, all blood gone from your face as you literally shook in his arms.

"We are alright," you stuttered. "We are alright. In a broken elevator."

Shit.

He looked around, the elevator still completely dark, and reached up, pressing the red button to get security's help, knowing better than to try to get out.

You seemed to be trying to calm down as he did it, and Steve rubbed your back slowly, trying to calm you down.

"Hello?" security answered.

…

“about offices and feelings” was posted on my Patreon in June. To read it now, subscribe to my page! It’s just $2 a month, and I post 6x a week.

…

Forever Tags: @emoryhemsworth @amythyststorm33 @shaelyn102 @yknott81 @maximofftrash @kgbrenner @thefridgeismybestie @magpiegirl80 @mogaruke @musicalcoffeebean @megasimpleplan4ever @deemoriarty @05spn18 @malindacath @kdcollinsauthor @random-fandom-fangirl2112 @widowsfics @frozenhuntress67 @averyrogers83 @notyourtypicalrose @nerdypinupcrystal @giruvega Marvel forever tags: @its-daydreamer23 @random-fandom-fangirl2112 @tayrae515? @indecisiondecisions? @afanofmanystuffs? @patzammit? @thevanishedillusion? @widowsfics? @alexisshoto @princess-evans-addict @dreams-of-feysand @dragonqueen0606 @izbelross @isabelle-faith

#welldonebeca's about offices and feelings #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fic #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader smut #steve rogers x reader fic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x fat!reader

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denerdnr · 4 months

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Arabella Huntington Mansion - 2 East 57th Street, NY

The house is called "Collis P. Huntington Mansion", but anyone who knows the history knows that this house only existed because of Arabella. I don't want to dwell too much on her story, but for those who watch "The Gilde Age", the character Sylvia Chamberlein was inspired by Arabella.

The mansion was designed by George B. Post, and began construction in 1889 and would take 5 years to complete. The Italian-style house was built with rough stone blocks, with Renaissance-inspired openings on the second and third floors. The mansion was demolished in 1926.

Despite her modest origins, Arabella was educated and polished. She spoke fluent French and had a sophisticated eye for art, history, books, and a refined understanding of the decorative arts. During her life, she accumulated a huge amount of works of art, rare books and antique furniture. In short, she had everything a wealthy nineteenth-century woman could want, except social acceptance, for she was never on Mrs. Astor's list of the “Four Hundred.”

For this version of the mansion in The Sims 4, I only found the floor plan of the basement, so I tried to build based on the description left by people who knew the house. The plan was a little strange, but according to what I read, the distribution of the rooms was really confusing. In the part of the house where there was a heated pool, I preferred to create a ballroom. In my imagination, I thought it was more dramatic to have a ballroom that was never used. Hope you like it! :)

Note: until a few months ago, I thought this house was very ugly, but as you can see, I changed my opinion! Haha. Of course, I still don't think the house is beautiful, but now I find it very interesting.

#sims 4 #the sims 4 #historical sims #the gilded age #ts4 build #ts4 simblr #nyc

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donnabenevientosimpingzone · 3 months

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Last Step, First Dance

RL Daniela x Angie Fluff Smutfic

Cuz y’all wanted it and I also admittedly like it myself. Posting this with more Ver. 1 sprites that didn’t see the light of day for those who don’t wanna read the smutfic<3

The first time, it happened quickly.

They were both blasted drunk, having taken entire cups of alcohol- not even shots- chugged and swallowed with the fever of a sugar-deprived child ingesting soda. The lights were traveling at break-neck paces across the room, flashing in and out with every colour known to man. It felt as if the entire building was shifting- from the mixture of bodies dancing in careless directions, the music that rippled through the veins in the ground, and the bass acting as the beating heart- raising the temperature in the atmosphere to an almost sweltering degree.

Above the roar of the rave were the cries of “Drink, Drink, Drink!” as parties of people guzzled down alcohol at the location’s bar. Cheering and whooping at the DJ who used the microphone to catch their voice, booming it out to the masses of drunken, high, and dancing fools. Buzzed beyond belief, the cacophony of whirling noises faded into a sort of humming backdrop drone, accompanying the panting breath between their lips.

The bathroom was rumbling from the force of the bass. Angie could feel the vibrations beneath her as she found herself trapped on the counter of the sink, legs wrapped around the strong torso of her girlfriend. Whether it be the alcohol dissolving the already thin filter in their brains, or the built up affection from days of being unable to see each other- there was little in terms of modesty. Smooth noises of pleasure slipped from between hot, passionate clashes of lips- quiet compared to the world around them- but almost preferably so, as if they didn’t want anyone else to hear such sin. Daniela felt herself trapped as much as her beloved was- Angie’s strong legs driving her pelvis into the opening between the blonde Italian’s thighs- refusing to release even just the tiniest bit. Not that the redhead minded, actively curving her back to arch into the other more, hands tracing up and down the lean frame that responded deliciously to her touch.

Neither knew exactly when Daniela had started rolling her hips, practically grinding herself into the sensitive space between Angie’s legs. But it had elicited an adorable squeak from the girl- and her quads tightened more- urging the redhead to continue. The dim, purple lighting of the bathroom shivered along the two bodies as Dimitrescu fangs found possession of Beneviento skin. The coldness of the sink was a relief to Daniela’s palms as they gave the blonde Italian mercy from their menstruations, slammed on either side of Angie as the redhead let her tongue and teeth taste the girl’s neck.

It was when Daniela was about to go all in, her face practically shoved into Angie’s cleavage, when the other’s hands found grip against the Romanian’s shoulders- pressing with the base of her palms to push her away.

The lights did wonderful in illuminating her blush. Daniela wondered if her irises must be blowing out the whites of her eyes as she stared at her beloved- drinking in the sight- the absolute Renaissance painting that was Angie Beneviento. Her blonde hair, while still in a bun with her signature flowers, was a disheveled mess from how often the redhead had been running her fingers through it. Her uniform a mess, the modest rave outfit politely covering up all of Angie’s spots and speckles was crooked in areas, with zippers undone like curtains to her skin. And the way her face wore an expression of desperate need seemed so natural, so raw, and pleading. Yet somehow, Angie was now stopping Daniela from going any further, even her legs were releasing the Romanian’s hips from the iron-grip.

“When we’re sober.” Angie manages to breathe, a hand migrating from the other’s shoulder to cup her cheek. As infuriating as the statement was to such a pent-up Daniela, still- the Dimitrescu sister understood- even in her drunken haze. For as rowdy and uncontrolled as Angie could be, she was always deliberate with her boundaries- clear and concise- followed to the point of a needle.

“Unfair,” Daniela chuckles darkly as she tries to regain what little semblance of dignity she had left. It wasn’t much. Anyone could have walked into the bathroom and seen the two snoffing each other as if it were the end of the world. If that happened- she wouldn’t hear the end of it from her sisters. “You show off such a gorgeous bod, and expect me to not want to savour it?”

The way that Angie’s blush deepens under the atmospheric lights only turns Daniela on more.

“Not while we’re drunk, dummy.” The blonde Italian responds, accompanied with a playful slap to the other’s shoulder.

The rest of the night had been a blur. Neither one could remember exactly the string of events that came after that- did they make out some more in that dinky little bathroom, that smelled strongly of alcohol and weed- or did they go back to the dancefloor and continued teasing each other with suggestive moves? At some point in the night, they absolutely had to have gotten a little too rough, as Angie had woken up with a hickey (that she very skillfully avoided questioning from Donna by dramatizing her hangover and wearing her hair down). One selfie and funny caption later, Angie had returned back to their shared dorm. It was pretty common after parties for Donna to pick Angie up and keep her for the night, ensuring that she was safe and no longer drowning in a blood alcohol content past 0.08. Deep down, the blonde Italian has always been grateful for this- that her aunt would allow her to have such ridiculously reckless parties- despite the overprotective nature. Especially after experiencing what Alcina was like to her daughters, Angie has become increasingly more appreciative of how concave Donna was to house all that love and protection for her.

Not that you’ll ever hear it directly from Angie’s lips.

“You’re wearing your hair down.” Was the first sentence to slip out of Daniela’s lips, her heterochromatic eyes blinking in surprise.

“Astute observation, Sherlock.” Angie forest back without hesitation, her face blushed with embarrassment as she started to try and tie it back up in a bun. She’s gently stopped when the Romanian approaches and grasps a wrist, met with the blown out irises of the other’s affection.

“You look beautiful.”

Angie blushes darker as she snorts and drops her hands, letting the blonde curls do whatever they want. Noticeably, she’s avoiding eye-contact with the other, her baby blue eyes instead focused on the doorframe to the bathroom, as if suddenly it was the most interesting thing in the world. Despite this, Daniela doesn’t seem bothered, as the redhead hums and runs a few fingers through the curtain of dusty yellow, wiggling the digits to shuffle the strands around. A light pink dusted the redhead’s cheeks when she notices the hickey.

“Oh.” Her voice low, shaky, as if embarrassed at the realization. “Sorry- I didn’t-”

“No.” Angie cuts the other off quickly, suddenly making aggressive eye-contact. “No, not at all! You respect my boundaries, nothing happened.”

“I know, but-”

“Daniela-” The blonde girl slapped both her hands onto her girlfriend’s shoulders, shaking her slightly to really get her to stop thinking so much. “I… I actually liked it.”

The tension in the air reached a peak now, so viscous that even a fairly dull pen could be pushed through and pop out the other side. The subject was a delicate one- the redhead knew of the other’s unpleasantries with sex- so she was respectful in not being too obvious about her sexual attraction. But it definitely was an unavoidable discussion now.

Swallowing, Daniela carefully examined her girlfriend’s features, trying to read her face. The Beneviento pair were notoriously awful at keeping poker faces- wearing all their thoughts in their eyes- unable to hide even the tiniest amount of unpleasantry. Angie was trying to hide it with her mass of blonde hair, but the tip of her ears gave her away, as they were blushed heavily in a stark maroon.

“... Do you want to finish what we started?”

The moment the question slipped from her mouth, Angie noticeably stiffened, her grip on her shirt tight and encompassing. The first thing that runs through Daniela’s veins is panic and anxiety. What if that was the wrong thing to ask? What if she’s going to leave now? What if-

“I-” Angie’s voice barks strongly for a second before it wavers and becomes quiet. “I don’t- It’s not that I don’t want to. I really do. But what if you see me and don’t like it?”

Now that offers a moment of pause. Daniela has seen many versions of Angie. She’s seen the silly sober versions where Angie’s functioning on only two hours of sleep and letting all her intrusive thoughts win (like jumping out the car into a drive-through window). She’s seen the absolute blasted drunk version who functions on even less percentage of her singular brain cell- nights where the blonde Italian was crippled at the toilet expelling what felt like all her organs. Since they’ve started dating, she’s seen softer, more nurturing sides of Angie- sides like her aunt- sides of Angie that were like a child afraid of being lost in a Walmart. But what version is she now referring to?

“Well… to be fair, we won’t know unless we try.” Daniela reasons. It was dangerous to make an empty promise to a Beneviento. Even more dangerous to make a full threat to one.

The debate within Angie’s head is visible across her face. Daniela watches her girlfriend’s expression go from sadness, anger, denial, reasoning, and doubt all in a single second. Like watching a movie. The redhead always liked watching her girlfriend’s face.

Eventually, Angie gives in with a soft sigh, her body struggling to relax as her fingers uncurl from the fabric only to curl underneath the hems. She’s mentally counting herself down- Daniela can see it on her face- when the bandage gets ripped off and the blonde Italian lifts her shirt without taking it off.

It was then that the redhead understood. Dappling along the skin were redden spots the same hue as the one that bordered around her right eye, similar to a red version of vitiligo, but obviously a condition that she was born with and did not affect her health. They washed her skin in what seemed to be angry, ugly patches- with no real pattern or thought- like paint that was flicked onto a canvas accidentally. It was simply by chance that her neck and forearms were not affected. No wonder Angie always seemed to cover herself up, even in the most smouldering of summers.

Thousands of different things passed through Daniela’s head upon seeing it, but none described her girlfriend as “ugly” or “unappealing”. For Angie to be so self conscious about it… what trauma did she have to endure?

“You’re beautiful.” Daniela repeats, making eye contact with her beloved to make sure she was listening and believing her. The clarity across Angie’s face told her that she needed to try again. “You’re beautiful, păpuşă. I mean it.”

The redhead raises a hand, pausing and waiting, raising her brows as if to ask the question “may I touch you?”. Angie got the message loud and clear, swallowing with a nod as she braced for impact. The first shiver came from the coldness of Daniela’s fingers radiating across the warm abdomen, significantly less chiseled and built, but rather more plushy and protruded slightly. The second was accompanied with a light moan, as the two different skins adjusted the temperatures, and the redhead was tracing the spots lightly with her index. The third was when Daniela said those words again: “You’re beautiful, păpuşă.”

“I- I still want to try,” Angie admits, sucking in her lower lip and holding it there with her two front teeth. “But I don’t think I’m ready to… ya know… do it naked.”

Daniela searched her girlfriend’s face again, taking in the details. It always seemed like there was something new to see on those smooth features- no matter how many times the Romanian believed she memorized it all- there was always something new to see. This time, it was the soft swell of her cheeks as she bit her bottom lip, a swell that gave away the faded blush and squinted her eyes perfectly to highlight the war happening in her head.

The redhead carefully retracted her hand, placing it over Angie’s and slowly guiding them to bring the shirt back down, as warm lips moved forward and pecked the little bit of the other’s forehead that was not covered by the blonde bangs.

“There are ways to do it with clothes still on.” Daniela offered with a grin. “I can show you… if you feel comfortable.”

There it is again, the movie that played out across Angie’s face. An entire plot of an action film ran across her features, from the exposition to the build up and climax, until finally it reached a conclusion with a shaky sigh.

“Let me use the bathroom first.” Angie sets down the parameters, and Daniela nods. The redhead tries not to get her hopes too far up, but she couldn’t help the already swirling anticipation pooling into a heat at the bottom of her core, waiting like a loyal puppy for her girlfriend to exit the dorm bathroom.

Daniela flops onto the sheets of the bed, inhaling their scent. She would be lying if she’s never fantasized about sexual encounters with her beloved, even having times where a cold shower or night at the skate park did her any good, and she had to handle an arousal issue by herself. It’s not like the Romanian has never had sexual encounters before- in fact- in the Dimitrescu family the only one who has not even dabbled once in romance was Bela. However, the only one who has had a loyal relationship was Cassandra, at least up to this point. Honestly, Daniela had a bit of pride knowing that currently- she was the one who had found someone to nurture such a passionate relationship with- and no matter what kinda womanizing streak Cassandra has: Daniela won.

The click of the bathroom door breaks Daniela out of her stupor, and her head snaps up from the sheets where she had been spacing out, turning to look at the open door. Angie comes out with her hair in a bun and the signature flowers, wearing long sleeves along with a pair of Daniela’s shorts. They were pretty obviously too big on her, as the corner had to be tied in order for them to stay on the girl’s skinny waist, but the thing that strikes Daniela are the blotches traveling along the other’s legs. They dappled what little of her revealed thighs, circling like stars along her knees and shins, and even had home on her feet. If one took enough time to admire them, perhaps some constellations could be found upon that map.

Angie must have taken Daniela’s silence as a bad sign, as she started to shake from anxiety and was turning to go back into the bathroom, when the redhead suddenly gets up from the bed and struts across the room. With a small gasp, the blonde Italian found herself backed into the wall, and the slam of Daniela’s palm against it as heterochromatic eyes leered at her with lust.

“Come le stelle in una notte nuvolosa.” Daniela’s Italian was rusty, but Angie had taught her a lot, and this sudden drop of her mother language made the girl shiver: “Like stars on a cloudy night.”

What follows is a repeat of the night before. It starts when their lips meet in a slow, steady manner- like a first kiss where neither one quite knew what to expect- but the moment they found out the other was a good kisser; it would exponentially increase in vigor. In a flash, Angie found her rump settling into the mattress of the bed, legs around the redhead again. Now sober, they could really digest the other, truly feel the moment with a clear head. The bed isn’t sturdy like a bathroom sink, however, and quickly Daniela finds herself falling onto the sheets alongside her beloved, the two collapsing onto it giggling and gripping onto each other for dear life.

“I’ve never waited so long to do it with someone.” Daniela admits, peeling open her heart for Angie as they start getting comfortable again. And by comfortable it meant the Italian on the bottom and the Romanian on all fours hovering over her. “One night stands, relationship flings, spontaneous hook ups- I’ve definitely ruined a relationship before by doing it too fast.”

The way Angie’s fingers roam along the back of her neck starts to drive Daniela crazy. Those skillful digits comb through the red fuzz at the base, sliding upwards, until they find the hair tie keeping the Dimitrescu’s hair in a ponytail- slipping it out to let the red strand fall like curtains around her head. They cascade over Daniela’s shoulders, hiding their faces from the outside world, as if the love across each of their expressions needed to be hidden from the dangers of the unknown.

“But then we became friends,” Daniela raises her dominant hand, starting to trace it lightly down Angie’s body, and loving the way it deliciously reacted by curving into the touch, as if desperate for a more firm grip. “And on the night we confessed, I told myself: ‘I’m going to do everything so I don’t fuck this up.’”

Her hand finds the top of the shorts, and Angie’s grip around the redhead’s neck tightens briefly before releasing. Daniela stops her hand there to give the other time to adjust.

“Hey, it’s going to be okay.” The redhead soothes with a gentle smile. “I’m going to do everything so I don’t fuck this up.”

“Mmm.. mhhm-” Angie hums in confirmation, her thighs firmly locked together. Despite Daniela’s best efforts in rubbing them to urge them apart, they stayed contracted. A stark contrast to the two make-out sessions. Now that the time was here, it seems that the girl had second thoughts.

“Hey, we don’t have to try right now. Don’t push yourself. I really mean it.” Daniela reasons, trying her best to ignore her own desires. They were bubbling and stewing, boiling her body to a point that it was a challenge to hold back just shoving her hand down those shorts. She would always be able to put them down her own pants later.

“No, no- I do want to- I really do.” Angie felt like she was trying to convince herself more than she was Daniela, and the blonde Italian must have realized it, as she quickly rephrased herself. “I want to, but I’m scared, ya know? I’ve never done it before and the times I did come close to doing it with someone they’ve always left me.”

“I won’t leave you over one fuck in bed.” Daniela grins with a small giggle. “I’ve seen you barf out your entire intestine, baby. From both ends.”

At that, Angie laughs, and the tension in her body breaks. The redhead couldn’t help but laugh along too, pressing her forehead to her girlfriend’s in a fit of mirth. Angie always did have a contagious laugh.

“I know you’ll take good care of me, babe.” Angie whispers, her sapphire eyes opening to reveal that she absolutely meant it.

The grin across Daniela’s features grows just a little bit wider as she starts tracing her hand down her beloved’s body again. This time, when it came to rest over the top of the shorts, the girl’s legs spread just a little bit- enough to invite in the fingers. A tender kiss seals the two lips as the redhead takes the leap of faith and presses the palm of her hand against Angie’s lower abdomen, sliding the limb past the borders of the shorts. There wasn’t another layer of fabric to cross- Angie must have taken it off- and the realization excited Daniela more.

The first brush against the blond Italian’s clit makes the girl tense up and grip the redhead, moaning into her mouth. The second causes the lithe hips to buck, begging for more. The third is when Angie pulls away from the kiss and looks down- really absorbing the scene- seeing the sight of Daniela’s hand disappearing beneath the shorts and in between her legs. When Daniela presses down on the sensitive bud, Angie’s hands grip onto the redhead’s shirt, and she shivers in anticipation. It was here that the Romanian felt the fluid cling to her skin, and realized that Angie was soaking wet.

The moan that ripples across Daniela’s vocal chords seems to unlock something within the other, as Angie quickly swipes the naughty lips into another kiss. During this, her teeth were finding a foothold in being just a little bit more playful than usual, and Daniela found herself liking the way they nipped at her bottom lip. As a reward, she started her circles on the other’s clit, feeling the way Angie’s legs spread just a little bit more.

“Fuck.” Angie cursed the moment their lips separated from each other, breathless and light, her body twitching from the pleasure that coursed through her veins.

“Feels good?”

“I- fuck-” A string of quiet Italian curses leaves Angie’s lips as she can’t find the words to explain the sensation coursing through the very cells in her body. It felt so much better than the numbing buzz of alcohol, a warm embrace mixed with the joys of silly laughter with Daniela all slamming into her at once. The world was melting away- worries and stress and whatever anxieties followed- dissolving into an inky pool far away from this little dorm and the little bed.

“I’m taking that as a yes.” Daniela mused as she started to increase the pace, swirling her index and middle finger around the sensitive nub, and applying pressure at just the right points. Angie keens and arches her back, releasing one of her hands from their iron grasp on Daniela’s shirt to cover her face with her arm, showing only her lips which were dropped open and panting.

Gosh she looked so adorable, Daniela thinks, scooting in closer- allowing Angie’s other hand to travel to grip her back. With her head right next to Angie’s, she could breathe against the girl’s ear, and feel each trembling moan that traveled out of her throat. This moment is one in her dreams that repeated over and over again, but the reality was so much better.

“You’re so quiet,” Daniela whispers, applying more pressure in her menstrations. “I really like your voice. C’mon. Moan for me.”

It wasn’t an immediate effect. Angie was still holding back significantly, but they were slowly and gradually increasing in volume. They came out like little squeaks that would be stretched out after a hiccup- never lasting longer than needed- but oh so satisfying to hear.

“I want you too. I want you so badly.” Daniela urges, hoping to get Angie to open up and relax a little bit more. “I want your stupid intrusive thoughts to win. I want to skip classes with you. I want to fail at baking with you because we wasted all the flour throwing it at each other.”

Angie’s moans get significantly louder, now mixed with giggling. She bites her lower lip and arches her back, letting her body instinctively take control. Her pelvis digs into the sheets as she grinds against Daniela’s hand, rubbing perfect little circles on top of circles that increase the sensation of pleasure throughout her body.

“You’re beautiful, and you have such a silly sense of humour. You never fail to make me laugh.”

A thought suddenly crosses over Daniela, and the redhead grins uncontrollably to herself.

“You’re a good girl.”

It works. Angie throws both her arms around Daniela and hides her face in the redhead’s shoulder, squealing into the fabric, letting her nails dig into the redhead’s back. Her legs spread just a little bit more, and her body submits to the arousal. It even surprises Daniela when she feels her girlfriend’s clit swell just a bit beneath her menstrations.

Praise kink. Noted.

Not that Daniela is particularly surprised about it.

“D-dani- I-... something’s-! Something’s happening-!”

“Sh, it’s okay, ride it out. Just let it happen. I’m here.”

“Mmgh-!”

It takes a couple more agonizing seconds for Angie to cum. Seconds that Daniela could feel the beating of her girlfriend’s heart, hear her panting breathing and hitched moans, and appreciate the moment. When it does hit, it’s a silent one. The Romanian was only able to realize due to the stinging in her back, and the shivering of the other’s thighs in a toe-curling orgasm that caused the entire body to spasm, even if no sound escaped from between plush lips. When it’s all over, Angie collapses into a heap onto the sheets- as if she were a baby koala letting go of its mother- and Daniela retracts her hand- covered in her girlfriend’s essence- a mixture of arousal and climax.

“Whoo,” Daniela whistles, smiling down at her girlfriend. “That looked intense.”

“Bitch.” Angie playfully shoots, her close-eyed smile humming in the afterglow. When no rebuttal comes, she cracks open one eye, only to witness her girlfriend licking off the fluids on her fingers. This immediately causes the blonde Italian to blush and close her eye again, raising her hands to press her palms into her girlfriend’s shoulders. “Daniela!”

“What? You taste good!” Daniela cackles, licking her lips. She wasn’t going to add on that she’s surprised by the fact, considering how much alcohol Angie consumes. Perhaps Donna forces her to drink enough water that it cancels out.

“Idiot!” Angie shouts as she starts pounding her fists on her girlfriend’s shoulders repeatedly, laughing the entire time. Daniela fights back by capturing her girlfriend into another kiss, letting the taste mix between their lips.

“So… how was it?” The redhead questions when they part, grinning smugly.

“Amazing.” Angie hums, ruffling her girlfriend’s hair. “I’m glad my first time was with you.”

Daniela blinks.

“You’re first…?”

“Did you forget!?” Angie barks with wide eyes and then breaks into laughter again, much to Daniela’s dismay. The redhead’s face blushes darkly in embarrassment as she sputters to try and find an explanation.

“I- Listen!”

But Angie was not listening, she was laughing- flailing about like a toddler- and Daniela had no choice but to submit to such a contagious laugh.

#resident evil village #resident evil #resident lover #daniela dimitrescu #angie the doll #angie beneviento #dangie #fanfic

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indignantlemur · 3 months

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Larger image (STRONGLY recommended): HERE The resolution on this is painful, so I'm including detail shots below the cut.

This meeting room was furnished many centuries ago by a renowned artisan who could carve stone and shells in stunning detail, and could shape and colour glass in a way that was never seen before and has never been replicated since. He took the secrets of his techniques to the grave, dying at an unexpectedly young age in a duel with a public safety official over the seizure of a rare and extremely toxic pigment imported from a Clan to the far south. His name was Kelenthor, and he was the only Clanless to ever attain such a high level of renown and fortune purely on his artistic talent. He lived during what would eventually be called the Post-Unification Andorian Renaissance. While this artisan was alive, he had a somewhat adversarial relationship with various officials and was known to use his art as a medium to mock and criticize his social betters. He was beloved by the general populace for exclusively taking on students from the lower social classes - almost as much as he was resented by the upper classes for his habit of hiding subversive messages in his commissioned works. Regardless of where one stood with Kelenthor, none could deny his talents. If you wanted the best of the best, Kelenthor was the one to commission. As such, he was eventually commissioned to design and create furnishings for a number of rooms and even entire buildings which are now used exclusively by government officials today or otherwise preserved as precious cultural works.

This particular room is widely regarded as his best work: the walls are conspicuously and almost insultingly plain, barely carved at all. At the centre of the room lies a heavy and imposing table of solid marbled stone - also barely ornamented, save some bevelling along the edges. The surface was treated with a substance which renders the stone almost entirely impervious to damage. No matter how one might rain blows upon it, barely a scratch remains to remember them by - much like many of the politicians who have sat at this table since its creation, which many believe was the subversive message behind the thing in the first place.

The focal points are the throne-like seats arrayed around the blunt instrument of a marble table, intricately carved and inlaid with precious shell and glasswork, iridescent and shining under even the faintest rays of light. Each scatters prisms randomly around the room, illuminating the shadows and often causing quite a few headaches when meetings stretch too long. More importantly, every single one of them was deliberately carved to be as uncomfortable as possible. No one in a position of power, Kelenthor once said, should be comfortable there.

First up, courting and wedding bands! Shral and Dagmar are only courting, so they have simple rings with minimal ornamentation, with Dagmar's being modified to fit as a cuff earring.

Thoris is married, so he has two bands on each antennae. Quite often marriage bands are more decorative and ostentatious than his, but Thoris isn't one for baubles and it's bad enough he has to wear these ridiculous robes. Frankly, if he could get away with just wearing his old Guardsman uniform to these meetings, he'd vastly prefer to. As such, his wedding bands are almost incongruously plain for his rank and status.

Next up, the lady and gentleman in the foreground! These two are Ministers, and high-ranking Andorians besides, so they ornament themselves rather loudly in comparison to our main cast's more sedate preferences. The lady on the left is Minister Zaathi, who we will be meeting in-fic very soon, and she's very fond of gemstones and carved hair beads - and not afraid of losing any, if she sheer number she's wearing are any indications. It's a weighted fashion statement, if nothing else, from a woman whose home province is small and relatively modest otherwise.

By comparison, Minister Bhael - on the right - is much more conservative in his ornamentation, but his robes are heavily embroidered and that is quite a lot of Andorian silk to be toting around. A closer look will reveal that his sleeves are embroidered with an ocean wave pattern, which is particularly interesting given the relationship Andorians have with the sea. Is it some kind of political statement, or just an odd choice of attire?

If those two are making statements with their sartorial choices, then Thoris has them all beat for layered meanings.

The silvery outer robes of office are closer to a cloak than a robe, with an inner layer that is belted around the waist and a loose outer layer that is joined to the inner layer at the shoulders and seams along the upper arms. This permits the maximum range of movement for the wearer. Being made of Andorian silk, which is several times stronger than Terran silk, it is an excellent means of protection against slashing and stabbing weapons. Despite their merits, however, Thoris loathes them. They're lightweight, sure, but they're still long and ostentatious and entirely too liable to get caught on something in a real fight. Sadly, they're also mandatory, or he'd have binned them ages ago.

The vibrant blue mid-layer is a heavy material, durable Andorian silk woven through with tiny filaments of something very similar to a carbon fibre composite, providing a measure of protection against many forms of projectiles, though less so against phase weapons. The innermost tunic is more obviously armoured than the other two layers, with panels mimicking an extensive chitin pattern along the length of the torso and forearms. The sleeves in particular draw attention to a very vibrant yellow flash - much like the chitin of the predatory veeg he is known for hunting in the past.

Next we come to Shral, who is obscured partially by shadow at Ambassador Thoris' right hand - and ready to draw his ushaan-tor at a moment's notice.

This is not standard armour for an Andorian, but rather something one might wear while sparring or training in their personal time. The armour takes the form of layered, almost beetle-shell like layers, layered over a long, cowl-necked tunic. The cowl is an unusual choice for sparring attire, as it provides a potential hand-hold for an opponent - only a very arrogant or a very skilled duelist would wear such a thing while sparring.

In contrast, Dagmar stands in the light on Thoris' left. Her working attire is lightly embroidered, and features large, pearly buttons - but otherwise she's almost conspicuously plainly dressed. Hyper aware of how shockingly pink she is in comparison to everyone else in the room, Dagmar wears muted and neutral colours to try to off-set how glaringly alien she is - which, ironically, only serves to highlight her differences even further.

@the-lady-general @starrynightgardens @emilie786 @horta-in-charge @emochook @velvet-luvie @creature-of-the-stars @unknownfacelessfanfictions @auroramagpie

#star trek #emigre by indignantlemur #andorian #andorians #digital art #headcanon #An Eventful Meeting by IndignantLemur #ambassador thoris #Anlenthoris th'Kor #Vilashral of Clan Hrisvalar #Shral #Dagmar Gunnarssen #Kelenthor the Clanless

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gothgleek · 7 months

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Modest Veiled Helaena based on this post by @dirtytransmasc

Details under the cut

- While Alicent consistently wears long veils, Heleana is more experimental with her veils. OP mentioned that the two bond by styling their veils so I can see her wearing a variety of styles and patterns. However, while they are different veils, they would match what Alicent would wear either through patterns, length, or color.

- This dress is something her mother would’ve picked out, if not straight up worn herself. The dress is based on medieval dresses but the sleeves are Italian Renaissance inspired. She would be able to changed the shape of her dress by adjusting the sleeves. I can see her playing with that or with her long fabric belt.

- Helaena’s dragon riding outfit. I would have preferred Heleana style it more like this on her day to day as it seems like it would ‘quiet the loud world.’ However, I didn’t want to risk accidental appropriation. This ‘hooded veil’ also works as a good attempt to keep her hair tidied while flying but is loose enough where it could become messy or lost as OP mentioned in the post. This dress is based on Alicent’s tourney dress with the crossed bodice and on Rhaenerya’s dragon riding outfit because of course. The dress matches Dreamfyre’s scales.

- This is a hairstyle I saw on the Borgias where they sort of braided some veils into the hairstyle and it is something I can see Heleana and Alicent trying to perfect before a gala of some sort. Alicent likes it when her Targaryen silver hair is visible as a clear sign of her Targaryen roots so it’s a good combination of both. Dreamfyre is embroidered on the split sleeve of her dress.

- Once again, the I needed to dedicate on work to the veils. I like this more than the one I made for Alicent. Not much else to say about this one really.

- This one I can see as more directly inspired by her mother but with pastels and apple green tones instead of Alicent’s deeper green shades.

- Another Dreamfyre blue gown with a shorter lace veil this time. She is a Princess so she’s showing ladies of the court other ways to style a veil as it sways more people onto the Green team or at least visibly support them. I see her taking a lot of inspiration from her dragon for her everyday style. Blue is also a good variation for her wardrobe so she isn’t wearing green every single day. The opaque, billowing sleeves are inspired by her mother. I wanted to include some insects on this dress but unfortunately butterflies were too Y2K and spiders didn’t match. I do see her having ant shaped buttons down the center of her dress.

- The last dress has her in Targaryen pink. Viserys has a lot of Valyrian pride so he would want a family event wearing their house colors. She would somewhat obey him by wearing pink. The hairstyle and the dress shape with green and gold accessories however are all inspired by her mother.

#helaena targaryen #helaena the dreamer #house of the dragon #HOTD #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #game of thrones #got #fashion history #fantasy costumes #mine #green team #team green #pro green #alicent hightower #asoiaf clothing

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anakin-vaders · 1 year

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The role of Fashion in The Hunger Games saga a brief analysis.

Ok now with the hunger games renaissance we need to discuss the role Cinna plays in the whole series, and the role of fashion in the hunger games. I read this series when I was 11-12 years old, I grew to become a very, very queer fashion designer (I work for drag queens), I didn't think I truly understood how much THG series impacted me until very recently when I saw/read the whole series again. Like yes, Suzanne Collins makes the Capitol this shallow society, putting a real effort in making their citizens be superficial only caring about their looks, looking super extravangant and absolutely disconnected from the suffering of the districts. While their looks are vibrant, large, shimmery, and totally over the top (showcasing their opulence) the way they dress on the districts (specially 12 and 13) is minimalist, modest, the colors are washed, old. Their each other's antithesis. And of course Katniss expects only that from the people of the Capitol (classic Us vs. Them), and when Cinna, whom I think is very queer coded, comes in, and treats her like a human being, she starts to let her walls down, to let herself be guided trough this horrible thing she's got to endure. In the books when Cinna and his team are pampering her, she doesn't see herself as a symbol, she never really wanted to be one, she feels really dehumanized. Her only motivation upon this point is surviving and get back to Prim on her home, she still thinks everything on the Capitol in stupid and unnecessary. It's only when Cinna puts them in this very intricate and thought out looks inspired by their district industry (coal mining) that I think Katniss starts to understand the power of fashion, the power of symbols.

And later in her interview with Caesar we have the infamous red dress that catches fire and that lefts the audience gagged (if any of y'all have been to a drag show you know how amazing a good reveal is). This moment is so important because now fashion doesn't become something merely functional, or oppressive. Fashion is empowering, this moment is Katniss getting confidence in herself, asserting herself over her circumstances thanks to Cinna, thanks to fashion. It's also very brilliant because this is also catered to the Capitol, to the viewers and consumers of the games. One of the first things Haymitch tells Katniss is to make herself desirable, and this totally makes sense, the Capitol now roots for her, relate to her, so that later she can get sponsors and SURVIVE.

On Catching Fire we have another iconic fashion moment, fire is a very present theme for Katniss. She is of course the spark for the rebellion, and when she understood it, the message not only becomes clearer, it becomes a protest against the games, against the Capitol. The way she and Peeta are almost regal their second time on the games, shows how much she's understood the power of fashion, the power of the message it can send. They look like a piece of coal refusing to cool, refusing to stop burning. And this was all Cinna's mind.

And my absolute favorite. The wedding dress, such and iconic moment and dare I say, a pivotal moment for the rebellion. In the books Katniss and Peeta are doomed to keep their fake relationship for PR reasons, so they get engaged, and make their whole wedding (bear in mind they're both 17 ish here) a reality show-esque moment for the Capitol. Even after they've won, they still have to entertain them, a winner can never rest. The districts are never winners. So when Snow decides to make his personal quest that of making Katniss miserable, thus making his All Star version of the games, knowing district 12 only has 1 female winner...oh if that isn't some evil shit. On top of that, he is the one who request she wears her wedding dress to the interview, the dress that symbolizes all she never wanted (get married, have kids, loose her agency, being controlled by the Capitol). Snow does this hopping Katniss feels ALL THAT, and Cinna being the genius designer he fucking is, turns a 180 on it and gets the wedding dress as a façade, he uses the dress as a symbol of the tragic lovers that never got to wed, the wedding the Capitol never got to see because of the games. And it works. It fucking works.

And then, the dress burns up revealing a beautiful black dress with wings, a mockingjay, she literally becomes the rebellion, she embodies the rebellion and all that comes with it. The power of fashion in the middle of an uprising, and how much it strikes the Capitol because it's said in their language. All of these moments were essential in the history because the people on the districts already knew about the injustices, about the hardships of their conditions. But the consumers didn't. And Cinna, trough Katniss made them see that, he took everything that made the Capitol shallow and gave actual meaning to it. And without of all of it, who knows if the rebellion would've gestated as fast.

TL;DR: the hunger games saga made me a fashion designer, and fashion is really important in the story, dare I say it's a really clever use of fashion and Cinna is a FUCKING genius.

#hunger games #thg #catching fire #hunger games analysis #hunger games renaissance #katniss everdeen #cinna the hunger games #Suzanne Collins #fashion in the hunger games #cinna #the mockingjay #holy shit dude when I mean this saga formed me I'm not kidding i literally went to college to become a fashion designer bc of it.

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blue-thief · 2 months

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@galaxynajma here are the actor/artist/writer isakainess hcs i mentioned earlier 🫡 (this got wayy longer than i was expecting it to be so it's basically a fic outline atp

kaiser started off as a child actor which explains... everything

when he was really young he popped up in a few roles for some pretty big movies

his biggest role as a kid though came when he was about ten where he played a big supporting character in a long-running kids' sitcom (think stuff like hannah montana, icarly, etc)

he's more or less cut off contact with his parents but he was fortunate to get a hold of his money once he turned 18

he's since moved out, rents out his own modest apartment, and he's shown up in a few moderately successful things

he's far from being an a-list actor but he's got a decent following

even though most people wouldn't be able to recognize his face, he can mention the stuff he's been in and people will be like "ohh yeah i've heard of that, i've been meaning to check it out"

he usually has to wear makeup to cover up his tattoo. most of his notable roles came before he cut + dyed his hair

his goal is to become an oscar-winning actor and he was able to get the lead role for a really serious film. his new hair just happened to suit the role

meanwhile there's ness the writer

he started off studying something STEM-related to appease his parents. besides, he needs a backup plan just in case the whole writing thing doesn't work out

but he soon dropped out due to being overwhelmed by how intense his competition was

fortunately enough he's still in contact with an ex classmate and he got some money doing copywriting for their side gig's website

on top of that he started submitting flash fiction and poetry to different competitions and magazines like CRAZYYY just to make a little more money

kaiser stumbles across one of his pieces, looks into him a little more, and finds ness's personal blog

he reads up on ness ranting about his parents and how he has no money

at this point kaiser's kinda fallen in love but he doesn't wanna seem too weird

and he reaches out to ness saying, "hey ik this sounds kinda weird but if you really wanna pursue your dreams but you're low on money you can become my roommate"

at first ness is like "wtf is this guy gonna try to kill me"

but he's late on rent and about to get evicted so he's DESPERATE

he agrees to meet kaiser to assess the vibes

and well. obviously ness falls head over heels in love with kaiser

(obv kaiser isn't gonna kill ness but don't follow in ness's footsteps guys you probably won't end up being as lucky)

and it works out great. kaiser's more than happy to cover most of the rent, he's out most of the time filming, and ness just has this bigass apartment where he's got ample space to work

anyway while kaiser's out and about one day he's at this cafe

there's this one worker on break, still in his apron and everything

he's off in the corner doodling something

the worker is isagi

and kaiser notices isagi is drawing HIM

kaiser goes up to him all smug like "wow, are you a fan? you want an autograph?"

and isagi's like "bro idfk who you are i just really liked your tattoo"

they talk a bit and isagi tells kaiser where he can find more of his work

isagi's mostly focused on digital art and commissions but he's also studying animation

kaiser finds his instagram and commissions isagi

"that napkin doodle you made of me was pretty good but i'd love to see how well you can capture my beauty given ample time (and money) ;)"

kaiser quickly becomes isagi's most frequent and highest paying client

you can say he's basically become isagi's (and to an extent ness's) sugar daddy

but kaiser likes to think of himself of those wealthy patrons from the renaissance

kaiser loved swinging by the cafe to ask about isagi's progress on his latest commission

one day he overheard isagi panicking about not being able to pay rent

and kaiser's like "you can move in with me and my roommate if you want"

and well. isagi does exactly that

ness kinda gets all crazy and possessive like "WHO'S THIS HOW DID YOU MEET HIM HOW DO YOU KNOW HE'S NOT-"

suffice to say he and isagi don't get along at first

but kaiser's never home so it's mostly just them on opposite sides of the apartment, sending glares at each other every now and then

it's BECAUSE kaiser is never around that isagi and ness are forced to bond with each other eventually

FUCK THIS POSTED INSTEAD OF GETTING SAVED AS A DRAFT

oh whatever i'll probably make this into a fic and fill in the rest that way 😭😭

#i might make this into a proper fic someday idk #blue lock #bllk #isagi yoichi #yoichi isagi #michael kaiser #alexis ness #kaisagi #kainess #nessagi #isaness #isakainess #kainessagi

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15-lizards · 8 months

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I got brain rot for Alicent Hightower, per usual. And brain rot over your amazing knowledge of history, and fashion. I love history, and fashion, and you feed me so well.

I was thinking of Alicent’s wedding dress. It was cute, and she looked beautiful. But I kept thinking she should’ve been married in her house’s traditional wedding garment.

Is it okay to ask what kind of wedding dress she should’ve worn, based off Oldtown’s/the Reach’s culture, and it’s inspired historical culture?

Especially I’m thinking of what type of headdress she would have worn, I’m like “I must know every detail” cause I know my baby girl WOULD EAT IT UP.

Omg thank you 🤭 also I hate how cheap the girls dresses looked in the show they did them so dirty

I love this one because it’s the most “reach” like dress (I assign the Italian renaissance to the reach in my head even tho I know it’s inspired by Frances) yet I know this wouldn’t make sense timeline wise bc renaissance fashion is my headcanon for current Reach but whateves. This one is very girlish and innocent, with soft lines and flowery patterns, very fitting for early Alicent.

These two are slightly more in line with the time periods in my head, and I enjoy these even though I know they’re very plain but that’s the point. This is when Alicent is still incredibly shy and unsure of herself and does not want any attention on her, so she chooses the plainest gown possible (if we’re going with the thought that Otto doesn’t force her to wear something else)

Again wrong time period but I can’t help it these Anne of A Thousand Days costumes are so precious to me. They’re very soft and gentle, and I know some of them are plain day gowns but I just like these for Alicents clothing in general not just the wedding gown. This is how I imagine she would dress if Otto forced her to. More ornamentation, more decoration and excess and poof. But still modest and as non eye catching as possible as she’s allowed to be

#asoiaf #asoiaf hair and clothing #Alicent my dearest beloved shy lesbian #I wish they gave u better clothes

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steppedladder · 6 months

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Yurra, god of All Things Precious.

#yurra #just a little something while im writing an outline and making designs #a modest renaissance

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thaliajoy-blog · 10 months

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Asoiaf - fashion of the courts throughout the ages of the Targaryen Dynasty, headcanons.

1) Under Aegon I + Aenys & Maegor : mainly greek/roman & bizantine inspiration for clothing, which correspond respectively to classical Valyrian clothing (greek being the older style, roman the more recent) and to neo-Valyrian clothing, fashion that appeared after the fall of Valyria (the bizantine empire being the "successor" or outright continuation of the eastern roman empire). Marginal use of southern Westerosi fashion, meaning western middle ages (up to beginning of renaissance) type of clothing.

+ in rare instances they still wore a more ancient style of Valyrian clothing inspired by ancient Egyptian fashion.

Bizantine styles :

2) Under Jaehaerys I : bizantine type clothing become slowly associated to ceremonies and used less (they're very ostentatious & not to Alysanne's prefered taste) all the while the Targaryen style takes in more and more westerosi (especially Andal) influences. It's a time of reconciliation with the faith & of deeper attempts at adapting to Westerosi customs. Also a time when the family opens itself more to non-valyrian families, through marriage or attempts at marriage with families like the Arryns & the Manderlys. Greek and roman styles remain a norm though.

👇greek & roman styles examples.

3) Under Viserys I : a bit of a neo-Valyrian (bizantine) revival as the king & the court flaunt the wealth & prosperity of the realm at the time. The nobility at large also begins to wear more classical & neo-Valyrian styles. Princess Rhaenyra is especially fond of this lavish style. But queen Alicent Hightower is more fond of south Westerosi clothing, less lavish, as well as more conservative than the greek & roman styles still widely used, and influences part of the court to chose that style over the other deliberately. The choice of a style of clothing could subtly indicate either black or green sympathies (although Alicent's heirs present at court would still wear Valyrian style clothing/hairstyles to affirm their Valyrian heritage).

Southern Westerosi types of clothes :

4) Under Aegon III, Viserys II & their sons Daeron I, Baelor I and Aegon IV : general slip towards Westerosi fashion, with some shifts & bumps along the road. Daeron I with his desire to finish what his conqueror ancestors started & appeal to a more prosperous past was more favorable to Valyrian roman/greek traditions of style but the influence of Valyrian ladies like Rhaena of Pentos, Queen Daenaera Velaryon, Rhaena daughter of Aegon III, Elaena Targaryen, Naerys Targaryen who for most of them dressed in westerosi style and were more or less pious faith followers skewed the game, despite outliers like Baela & Daena. There was as well the influence of Baelor Targaryen of course. So the fashion would be more conservative and somewhat less ostentatious (compared to previously) in general.

4.5) Under Aegon IV in particular : The modest wardrobe of Naerys especially would incite her admirers & the followers of her son Daeron to wear simpler more conservative westerosi fashion, while those trying to please Aegon IV (especially by presenting their daughters) and who saw Daemon Blackfyre as more promising than Daeron would skew towards less conservative fashion with greek/roman influences to evoke the Targaryen golden ages (and to be more alluring to the king). Naerys' influence would lead a fashion of hair covering headwear, which would continue into Daeron II's reign.

Examples :

5) Under Daeron II the good : following the trend set above, continues a move towards Westerosi type of clothing over traditional or neo-Valyrian styles. But through Dornish alliances and an established presence at court, introduction of Dornish styles (inspired by morrocan, algerian, possibly turkish medieval/renaissance styles) which would bring back some ostentatiousness & ease the conservatism of the clothes.

Dornish clothing ideas :

That'll be all for now, I just needed that vent ; but later kings' courts continued down that part for sure, which traditional or neo-Valyrians style clothing becoming relatively uncommon for court members to wear, even Targaryen royalty, except in the cases of particular & excentric individuals as different as Aerion Brightflame & Rhaegar Targaryen.

#asoiaf worlbuilding #valyrianscrolls #asoiaf art project #asoiaf art inspirations #house targaryen #greek fashion #byzantine fashion #roman fashion #middle ages fashion #algerian fashion #ottoman fashion #renaissance

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welldonebeca · 10 months

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about offices and feelings

Summary: When Steve is stuck in an elevator with his office crush, he is forced to face his feelings about her. Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fat!F!Reader Warnings: Fluff. Masturbation. Smut. Dirty thoughts. Pining. Tension. Broken elevators. D/s dynamics. Unprotected sex. Bod worship. Dirty talk. Smut. More warnings in the chapters.

Steve Rogers was so stupid. The stupidest of stupid men to have ever been stupid.

After Pepper had insisted on him for months, Tony had a new assistant, and his secretary threatened to sue him for delegating the work to her instead of hiring someone to do it properly.

He hired you, a perfectly adequate and competent personal assistant with very good experience and a track record of being the perfect fit for the job.

The day you walked into the office of Stark Industries was the day Steve Rogers' brain quick its job and never worked properly again.

Every day you were polite to everyone and tidy, and Tony's life was perfectly organised again, while Steve was thrown into a mess of madness and lust.

"Mister Rogers," you gasped when you saw him, a beautiful grin coming to your lips. "Good afternoon. Always early."

"Miss Y/N," he greeted, smiling, and raising his drink for you. "I got you coffee."

"Thank you," you spoke politely, reaching for it in his hand, and your fingers brushed against him when you picked it up, warm and soft.

You were all soft.

He took in a deep breath from behind the large table, your perfume was very faint in the room, and you smelt so damn good.

You'd gotten up, and you were wearing a pencil skirt.

Steve could see your belly, its curve in all its glory, and all he wanted was to touch you, squeeze you and...

"Is this a mocha?" you asked, snatching his attention to your face.

Steve swallowed down hard, nodding as his cheeks felt like they were set on fire.

"I thought they weren't making mochas anymore," you sounded surprised.

"I mixed it myself," he told you. "The cappuccino and then the hot chocolate, I remember you like it better that way."

You were wide-eyed for a moment, a bit shocked, and smiled.

"Thank you, Mr Rogers," you gasped.

He gulped, nodding quickly. He was so close to a fucking HR summoning.

"You are welcome, miss," he squeezed it out of himself.

He did his job like a good head of his department, took notes and offered his opinions, and behaved very correctly.

He also ran away from the meeting room before anyone else and locked himself in his office and his private bathroom once he was alone.

His work day was over anyway, and if anyone asked, he was having a stomach ache.

"about offices and feelings" is currently being posted on my Patreon. You can the first chapters now, and the last on the 8th of July, by subscribing to my page! It's $2 a month and I post nearly every day.

(Link directs you to the public masterlist for the story, free of charge, for a sneak peek.)

Forever Tags: @emoryhemsworth @amythyststorm33 @shaelyn102 @yknott81 @maximofftrash @kgbrenner @thefridgeismybestie @magpiegirl80 @mogaruke @shadowhunter7 @musicalcoffeebean @megasimpleplan4ever @deemoriarty @05spn18 @malindacath @kdcollinsauthor @random-fandom-fangirl2112 @widowsfics @frozenhuntress67 @averyrogers83 @notyourtypicalrose @nerdypinupcrystal @giruvega Marvel forever tags: @its-daydreamer23 @random-fandom-fangirl2112 @tayrae515? @indecisiondecisions? @afanofmanystuffs? @patzammit? @thevanishedillusion? @widowsfics? @alexisshoto @princess-evans-addict @dreams-of-feysand @dragonqueen0606 @izbelross@isabelle-faith

#welldonebeca's about offices and feelings #steve rogers smut #steve rogers fic #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america #steve rogers x reader smut #steve rogers x reader fic #steve rogers x reader fanfic #steve rogers x reader fanfiction #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x you fanfiction #steve rogers x you smut #steve rogers x you fic #steve rogers x you fanfic

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scoptopophobia · 7 months

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Idea that I love: Renaissance or Regency Era women but sapphic

Like a woman fanning herself to stop from blushing because she’s in the presence of a beautiful lady. Meanwhile everyone thinks she’s just modest for not being interested in men🤭

#regency #sapphic #lesbians #renaissance #women #wlw #idea #someone should write this #classic lesbians #regency sapphic #Renaissance sapphic

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beau-mchale · 1 year

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𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐮 𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐌𝐜𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐞 Location: Musella, Georgia

↠ BASICS Birthday: September 1st, 1990 Hometown: Musella, Georgia Occupation: Ranch Owner

↠ BACKGROUND

A good ole boy through and through, Beau loves three things more than anything: his truck, his dogs, and his mama. There’d only been one woman who nearly added herself to the list, but ever since that chapter closed, he’s been running his farm and rescuing animals on his own.

Beau finished business school in preparation of inheriting and managing his grandparent’s cattle farm. After they were gone, he decided to add more animals to the mix - most of which are wayward souls discarded and unwanted by other farms. He makes his money selling crops and other goods that he sows on his land.

He’s happy, well liked by towns people, and fulfilled in his pursuit of rescuing livestock - but at the end of the day, while he nurses his glass of whiskey, he can’t help but wonder if the farmhouse would feel more complete with a woman by his side.

↠ PERSONALITY + hardworking, renaissance man, modest - temperamental, compulsive, headstrong

#[ beau introduction ]

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carewyncromwell · 2 months

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Andre, meanwhile, rode on his own horse beside Orion a good ways ahead of the others to talk privately. Erika, Charlie, Bill, Carewyn, and Skye all watched them from a distance – they couldn’t hear what the two Princes were saying, but their discussion appeared very serious. Andre’s posture was oddly stiff and guarded, and Orion’s looked oddly submissive and detached. Then, very abruptly, Andre actually started to laugh. The sound startled everyone, Erika most of all. “What?” said Erika. “What’s so funny?” Orion looked back at them with a small wry smile. “Merely shoes, my lady.” “Shoes?” repeated Erika, bewildered. “Don’t bother questioning it,” Skye sighed tiredly from her spot in the driver’s seat as Orion faced forward again and continued his conversation with Andre. “Orion never stays focused on one thing whenever he’s talking to somebody – be glad he didn’t randomly start talking about swallows and the color green…” “Those were brought up too, actually,” Andre said loudly over his shoulder. He flashed Carewyn an amused look, and Carewyn couldn’t help but smile a bit in return. It really sounded like they were finding common ground…

~Cinderella AU, Part 11: The Truth Comes Out

x~x~x~x

Hey all! Had this image in my head of Orion and Andre in the Cinderella AU, and at work, I decided to try to sketch it out! (God bloody hell, are horses hard!)

Orion and Andre -- who are princes of their respective countries of Florence and Royaume in this AU -- are both dressed somewhat uncharacteristically in this, as peasant-raised bastard prince Orion had to dress in his finest supposedly to seek out a formal meeting with the royal family of Royaume and Andre had to dress in a peasant-worthy (but still fashionable) disguise originally picked out by Carewyn to sneak out of his palace. Both, however, are inspired by pre-Renaissance fashion -- Orion's is more monochromatic because his country, Florence, is based off Italy, which embraced a much more conservative and less flashy sense of dress in that period. (Royaume -- and the country that inspired it, pre-Renaissance France -- has more colorful fashion, by and large.) You'll also notice Andre's horse is garbed with reins and a saddle, which Orion is riding bareback with no reins: I see Orion having first learned how to ride a horse bareback and preferring to let his steeds walk about completely free of reins or a saddle whenever possible.

As for the conversation alluded to in the quote above...well, I imagined it largely involved Carewyn. Because Andre was most displeased by the thought that Orion might've only engaged with his first real friend in the world and fashion buddy for life!! in an underhanded attempt to try to get at him. Fortunately Orion was eventually able to put Andre's mind at ease.

"I confess, there was a time, right after learning Carewyn was in your employ, that I saw her as my way in, to try to reach out to your family and broker peace between our countries. But even then, I never saw her as a tool, nor a pawn of any sort. Carewyn is...easy to admire. She is intelligent and compassionate -- courageous and creative. She is intriguing and contradictory, in the most likable of ways. She is modest, and yet proud -- she is stoic, and yet passionate. At points it feels like she would accept nothing less than flying heaven-bound, like an eagle, and yet, truthfully, I see her more akin to a swallow...preferring to guide others back toward shore and home, after a long year at sea. She is...inspirational. Least of all because...she saw fit to forgive my transgression toward her -- my deception of her -- with merely faith in me as her stated reason. However much I hoped that she would, and however much I thought I knew her well enough that I thought she might understand my reasoning...I cannot deny that Carewyn would have had more than enough reason to cast me off, and quite discourteously. And yet my Lady Greensleeves...did not. Moreover, she actually spoke in defense of me. ...I can't even express how that makes me feel, it's a relief, but also...emboldening, warming. ...Inspiring." "...You...really do love Carewyn, don't you?" "...Most ardently." "Hm. ...Well...I admit, you do sound sincere. Though it still seems like an odd coincidence, that you two should collide right after Carewyn came to stay in the palace..." "I am one to believe in fate far more than coincidences. I know that Carewyn does not share my view, however. (small smile) ...Truthfully...I think I may have to thank you." "Me? Why?" "Well, from what I understand from Carewyn, you were the one who outfitted her, the day we met. I doubt Carewyn and I would've walked and talked as much as we did together, had it not been for your dreadfully uncomfortable pair of shoes."

This -- and Andre's laughter in response to it -- effectively broke the ice between the two princes. And from that point on, Prince Henri "Andre" of Royaume and Prince Cosimo "Orion" Amari VII of Florence considered each other friends.

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #cinderella au #my art #andre egwu #orion amari #carewyn cromwell #my writing #andre's horse is named portree bc why not XD #I see orion naming all his horses after stars and/or constellations #rigel aquila ursa vega

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