#some scrap lace and old top that i had
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i made this top ⋆⭒˚｡⋆
#used some secondhand charmmy kitty kids t-shirt#some scrap lace and old top that i had#and handsew everything at night#me#mine
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Steal this look:
Recently, I've been feeling the need to build a few more easy and cheap lolita tutorials. In the interest of getting back to the budget lolita roots, I thought it was time to give this old post a remake:
[image caption: Family came over and I didn't want to leave my room so I made a headband with hot glue. Posted 8 years ago on Jan 3, 2015]
So, today I made a headband with hot glue. I didn't take pictures, but here's a rough run through of what I used, so you can make one too:
a 2" wide headband, which seem to run about $8, which is a lot more than I expected. Inflation's a bitch. Going to have to change the blog to 50dollarlolita to keep up.
This project did not remotely take 54 yards of cluny lace, but honestly if you're going to make handmade lolita, you should buy 54 yards of cluny lace. (I have not bought from this listing, but it looks pretty legit). If we math it out per yard, it used about 40 cents worth of lace.
I have actually bought this ribbon in multiple colors. Once again, it's a really good thing to have on hand if you make lolita. If you only buy one color, I recommend buying the color that you can use for the back lacing of most of the dresses you own. Those ribbons always seem to get lost when I do laundry, and it's also an easy way to pick a color that you'll use for accessories. $6 for 100 yards comes out to about 12 cents worth of ribbon.
I can't begin to fully articulate how valuable having trims available is for making handmade lolita. Lolita fashion is all about putting as many details into a garment as you can tastefully add, and being able to "Oh, this would be nice to have a ribbon! Oh, this would be nice with a line of lace!" can really help you push your designs to the right level of detail.
Fake flower heads and leaf ribbon. I almost didn't include the leaf ribbon in this list, but I think it really added something. I don't find a ton of need for this in lolita fashion, but it seems the smallest amount you can buy is like 20 yards. (I actually got my flowers and leaf ribbon from a cheap flower crown, but it seems you have to buy the flower crowns in packs of 10, making it more expensive than getting the components).
The flowers that I have on my headband came with a little felt tab on the back, which made them easier to glue. It might be worth it to glue a felt strip onto the plastic stem, and then glue that onto the headband.
I'm not going to count the selvedge edge of the fabric that i had lying around. You probably also have fabric scraps lying around.
Assembly strategy is a little bit up to you, but here's my thoughts:
I wrapped the headband with a scrap of fabric, and then wrapped ribbon around that in the other direction. In addition to looking nice, I think that wrapping in opposite directions is going to make the fabric wrap stronger. The front ruffle is just a 1.5-2" wide lace (I didn't measure) that was sloppily pleated. Each pleat was tacked down with hot glue.
To cover the sloppy pleats, I stuck a piece of lace over the pleated edge. This smoothed things out, and I believe that will also help reduce damage to the ruffle. The lace here is beading lace, which is intended for you to weave a ribbon through. The only ribbon I had was too wide, so I just glued the beading on top and hoped no one would notice. Spoiler alert: no one did.
What I've noticed on these kinds of accessories is that they need two things to feel complete: they need some kind of element to frame the face and make the headband visible from the front, and they need a large accessory at each ear. This isn't universally true for all substyles, but I've found that in general, it's what I shoot for.
I had an old flower crown from a party, so i just cut some roses and leaves off that crown and stuck them on the sides. I added some little ribbon bows to help sell the "this is not me cheating at beading lace" illusion.
(If you're looking for inspiration for doing this without a ruffle or a side focus, and you don't know where to start looking, I'd start with Innocent World and Moi Meme Moitie).
If you're buying ALL the components listed here, so buying all 50+ yards of lace and 100 yards of ribbon, it's going to be $37. This is a lot, but it's cheaper than a taobao headdress once you factor in shipping. If we only count the cost of what will be used in the headband, it comes out to about $13. I really cannot express enough how much having lace and ribbon on hand will improve your handmade lolita life, so if you're looking for an excuse to buy a lot of lace, here's your excuse.
And that's it! Put it on your head and you're good to go out into the world!
I think this is a great improvement over the one I made 8 years ago, although the other one did a better job at avoiding my family.
Just a quick note about building with hot glue: less is more. It's easier to hid small dots than to hide big long lines. Get a silicone thimble and really push your glued material into the glue (note: i live on the edge and just lick my finger and smooth it down, and I get burned a lot). The more texture an item has, the more likely it'll glue well. How your piece is structured will impact its longevity, so think about the strongest possible way to construct something. And if you don't like hot glue, but still want to make this, my suggestion would be to use Aleen's Super Fabric Adhesive and letting it cure between steps. My other hot glue advice is that if your design is a mess, good construction won't save you, and if your glue is a mess, good design won't save you. So this is a case where hot glue is already saving you 96 hours of cure time, so respect it and be careful.
I made this to coordinate with this dress, because the dress has some pretty modern elements like the rose trim and the sleeves, that want to push it into being a very extravagant dress, but it also don't have enough room to be very poofy (not that I'm wearing a petticoat anyway, but y'all know what I mean). I don't know how to articulate the difference between silky polyester lolita dresses and old cotton twill lolita dresses, but this is definitely better with the silky poly than the cotton twill.
#20dollarlolita#lolita fashion#long post#handmade lolita#lolita headdress#fun fact i spent years where my bangs were SUPER heavy cut#i think I used to cut basically all my hair in front of my temples into my bangs
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For powerful em's powerful birthday month, a few vignettes from fucked up brocedes hg au. Thank you for bringing your wonderful, kind, generous self to everything you do in fandom! @powerful-owl
The chariots race by, spewing fireworks and glitter. The procession is headed by the blonde Career that was supposed to volunteer for Nico’s Games. All of the bookies are already saying he’s going to win. The Games are going to be boring with those odds.
Nico wrinkles his nose and squeezes Lewis’s hand tightly. He flicks his hair behind his ear and straightens his posture. The video screens cut to a technicolor image of him and Lewis sitting side by side in the front row with the rest of the victors. Lewis looks beautiful and deadly in artfully bloodied scraps of lace and leather, and Nico looks embarrassingly like a dessert, decked out in cherubic feathers. Everyone cheers. For Nico and Lewis and for the new tributes—twenty-four teenagers that are slated to die on film.
���Are you booked after this?” Nico says, turning his mouth towards Lewis’s ear.
“Yeah,” Lewis murmurs, looking ahead. “I’m some old fuck’s date to the afterparty.”
Nico knew that. He feigns surprise anyway. “Weird. So am I.” Lewis rolls his eyes, but Nico can feel the tendons in his arm jumping underneath Nico’s palm. It’s funny, Nico thinks, how Lewis has been at this a handful of years longer than Nico, and he still reacts to every little injustice like a knife to the gut.
Nico laughs a little to himself, and Lewis shoots him a weird, sidelong glance, rubbing his thumb along the inside of Nico’s forearm. Nico wouldn’t know what that’s like—feeling.
-
Nico collapses on top of Lewis’s sweaty chest, inhaling a lungful of body glitter. He chokes on it, coughs and hacks a few flecks out of his throat, and drags a shuddering breath of oxygen into his chest. He and Lewis have been fucking for so long he doesn’t even remember what it feels like to not have someone else inside of him. Lewis groans and whines underneath him, panting.
It’s approximately one billion degrees under the floodlights. It's so bright that Nico can’t see anything of the party surrounding them, just blobs and smudges behind the retina-scalding curtain of light. He knows they’re in the center of everything though, and that everyone is looking at them, and that people are cheering, because he can hear it faintly behind the beating of his own blood in his ears. He’s on the good shit too. He can’t usually stay hard for this long, even if it’s Lewis.
Lewis whines again, and Nico pushes himself back up and starts moving again. Lewis groans, his head thudding against the arm of the sofa he and Nico are perched on and his eyes rolling back.
It’s almost worth it, Nico thinks. Everything is almost worth it.
-
Nico can’t fall asleep alone anymore. When he shuts his eyes all he can see are glittering, multifaceted crystals, pools of blood as thick as velvet carpets and the inky blackness of endlessly dark caverns. Sometimes he gasps awake, and it feels like there are still shards in his throat, rending sensitive flesh on each juddering exhale.
When Lewis is in his bed, it’s a little bit easier. They don’t fuck when they’re alone—Nico would be so lucky—but Lewis holds him and Nico bites back his usual complaints.
-
Lewis has his lines memorized now. Nico doesn’t have lines, because all he has to do is moan on the floor with a gash in his stomach large enough that he can feel the heat seeping out of his shredded entrails. They’re reenacting everyone’s favourite part from Lewis’s Games where he saved a rival victor that had been left for dead behind a waterfall. This is the X-rated version, though, so Lewis is going to bandage Nico’s wounds and then fuck him back to health.
Nico can hear himself gurgling, notices the shadows creeping into his periphery. Then Lewis’s hands are on him, and the shadows are receding and the knife-like pain of consciousness is making itself known, like a bright light irritating dilated eyes.
Lewis rubs his thumb across the inside of Nico’s forearm. Nico twitches, prone. His insides are knitting themselves back together. His wounds are sealing themselves up. This is the best part. The worst part is the tenderness after.
-
The theme is sharks. And sex. Sex and sharks. Sharks and sex. The theme is Nico and Lewis have sex in a giant fishtank while shark mutts swim from end to end, gnashing their teeth and snarling. They’ve given Nico a drug that eliminates his metabolism’s need for oxygen, but it feels like he’s drowning all the same. The capitolites think this sort of thing is funny.
Nico clutches at Lewis’s tattooed bicep. His stylist has inked him up with images of angel fish that dart across his abdomen and octopuses that twine around his shoulder blades. Nico is wearing pearls. Lewis has a look on his face like he hates that he’s been made to do this and hates himself even more for being unable to dissent.
That’s the Lewis he knows, Nico thinks. That’s the Lewis he fell in love with, when he was sixteen watching Lewis’s Games with his father. He turns his head to gaze through the thick wall of glass that warps his view of the venue outside. Slim figures wisp by, toting flutes of champagne and tiny canapes. They’re not even looking.
Bile rises in Nico’s waterlogged throat. They need to look.
-
Lewis is watching the Games. When he turned it on the television in Nico’s room, Nico almost vomited, but Lewis was adamant that the broadcast stay on. He watches the Games even when the Capitol doesn’t parade him around at viewing parties to provide expert analysis. He tells Nico that it’s important to bear witness to what the Capitol is doing to the children of Panem, but Nico doesn’t buy it. He knows that Lewis just likes to torture himself. He’s always been a martyr.
Nico curls up underneath Lewis’s arm and tunes out the sounds of slaughter. Of exploding canons and warbling mockingjays.
When Lewis utters a disgusted sound at the TV, Nico looks up. The flatscreen is displaying the gory remains of at least three tributes splattered on the face of a snowy mountain. The Career that Nico replaced is standing in the middle of it all, an impish grin on his face and blood up to his elbows. He sticks his tongue out and wags his index finger at the camera.
“Typical District 1 overindulgence,” says Lewis, repulsed. “You can tell he’s never thought about anyone other than himself in his life.”
Nico smiles smugly where Lewis can’t see it.
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Marcille's frog suit is complete! This was my third-ever project using a sewing machine, so I've put a bit on my process for suit and staff-making below.
The Body: I drafted a pattern from a loose sweatshirt and sweatpants (somewhat following these tutorials: 1 2). From this I made a truly terrible mock-up from a fitted sheet -managing to sew the arms on inside out (twice, in two different ways). I also learned that the back panels need to be larger than the front panel, to accommodate the butt.
Originally, I wanted to make this out of raincoat material or pvc fabric to get that slimy frogskin look. I couldn't find any in the right color (or price), so I went with a cheap polyester satin. I think latex might have been also been a good alternative, but I've never worked with it before.
To get the white patterns on the frog, I just eyeballed where I thought the stripes should go on the paper pattern and cut it into smaller pieces (which I had to tape back together when I made the lining - this time out of blue bed sheet).
In the manga, there are large visible stitches in front. To mimic this, I decided to have the front lace with a thick cord. This meant I needed to install gromets on the front opening - but I was worried the hardware would tear right through the fragile satin. To prevent this, I reinforced the opening with a strip of denim encased in red cotton.
The smart thing to do would make the front zip up, and add a panel of fake lacing over the top. Since I didn't, 1) it takes a while to put on, and 2) the suit gapes open in places.
Frog Head: I spent a lot of time trying to figure this out - but in the end, I went with a very simple construction.
The hood consists of four main panels: the frog-shaped front and back panels of the outer hood, and two red panels for the inner hood. I 1) attached the white and orange parts of the outer panels 2) sewed the outerpanels together, and the inner hood panels together 3) cut a hole for my face out of the front outer panel, 4) sewed the edge of the inner hood panels to the face hole, 6) stuffed with batting from an old pillow, 6) added some extra fabric to close the hood under the chin.
I didn't quite get the shape right - the eyes should be rounder/ protrude less, and the cheeks/marcille's ears should sit lower down on the head. I think adding an extra panel to the back of the head would help it sit better. It's pretty 2D in profile, so my face sticks out of it too much.
Finally, using a stretch fabric for the inner hood (or a drawstring, that could tighten the hood itself) could make the hood fit snugly around the face. My hood was too loose, and I constantly had to adjust its position.
The frog eyes were also a bit tricky. The satin frayed to much to add large decorative stitching, so I had to sew little pieces of cord individually to the eyes. I probably should have made these smaller and more numerous...but my fingers were pretty sore form hand sewing.
The Shoes: I decided to make some boot covers for my docs, because making shoes from scratch is beyond my skill level.
I made a pattern by wrapping one shoe in a plastic back, then masking tape, and tracing out what looked like some important seam lines. I sewed all the pieces together except for top of the shoe, which I left open so 1) bagline the show cover, and 2) sew in the frog toes.
The toes themselves were sewn out of cotton and, stuffed with batting and old crochet squares. Then everything except the toe-tip was covered in orange satin. I did this since I was worried that the satin would not play nice with paint (foreshadowing). The toe-tips were then painted with a mix of black acryllic and liquid latex (for flexibility).
To keep the shoe covers on the shoes, I added some elastic around the bottom (salvaged from a fitted sheet). They also needed to close in the back - but I didn't have and velcro or zippers and I was running low on gromets. Instead, I made some loops out of scrap leather to run the lacing through. This looked cool but it was really hard to lace up myself!
Gloves: These were made the day before the convention, and are terribly slapdash.
Normally when you make gloves out of non-stretch fabric you need to add gussets to allow your hands bend, without the gloves being too loose. I did not do that. I just traced my hand on the fabric, and gave myself big finger pads and plenty of ease. They turned out pretty meh!
One issue was the finger pads themselves: it's hard to sew in a circle, so they were lumpy in shape. This lumpiness was enhanced by the way I stuffed them: just shoving stuffing into the finger tips. which is also where my fingers have to go. So every time I took the gloves on and off, the fingertips would get out of shape. I think hollowed foam balls would have been a better choice for the finger tips.
In addition, I painted the fingertips with the same latex/acrylic mixture I used on the toes. While it dried just fine on the cotton, the paint remained really sticky - so they picked up dust and peeled rather badly.
The gloves only had four fingers in the manga, so that's what I went with. But it was pretty uncomfortable with the pinky+ring finger sharing a home, and it didn't even look good.
Ambrosia (the staff): This was a real last-minute addition to the costume, done the night before the convention.
The base is a wooden dowel, and the hoop in a long tube of cotton fabric that I stuffed very firmly. I anted to make sure the hoop wouldn't fall off, so I "drilled" a hold near the tip of the staff (I.e. I shoved a screwdriver through the soft wood like an animal), and added grommets to each end of the stuffed cotton tube. I then created a tight mechanical join by running leftover cord though one grommet, then the dowel, and then the other grommet before tying it off.
Next, I wrapped a ton of different materials around the hoop and body of the staff: coord, twine, paper florist "rope", and paper-covered florist wire, etc. This was secured with an ungodly amount of hot glue. When possible, I tried to new strands under pre-existing ones for some extra security. I really like how wrapping the cord around the soft-hoop created the impression of vines growing around a living branch.
I painted the staff in three layers: base coat of red-brown, then a "wash" of watery black acrylic , and a dry brush of a lighter brown. I did not do a good job getting the paint evenly over the surface! From some angles the white cotton is still very visible, and I probably should have painted it before wrapping anything around it.
The sprout was made by sewing two leaf-shapes out of cotton, hot gluing it to a small snip of florist paper, and then hot gluing the stem to the hoop. Not bad for a rush job!
Overall: I think the feet and staff came out the best! People recognized me at the convention too, which is always the real test.
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a snippet from a fic i'm working on where steve has an older sister and also can see ghosts
---
"Hi."
Eddie blinked. The trailer had fallen into an empty quiet so suddenly it was jarring. He'd been re-living a memory, a peaceful one, but now Wayne and his humming were gone, the tv dark and silent.
There was a girl sitting on top of the washing machine, legs crossed at the ankles.
She was dressed like the winter version of Molly Ringwald's character in The Breakfast Club, a chunky knit sweater tucked into a brown corduroy pencil skirt, honey brown hair braided over her shoulder.
"Uh. Hey." His voice felt too loud, like they were kids at a sleepover, trying not to wake the parents.
"This is a nice place." The girl murmured, turning her head to take in more of the living area. She had a mole under one eye, more dotted down her throat like disconnected constellations.
Moths fluttered around the orange kitchen light, all sorts of novelty mugs lining every available surface, lace curtains patched up with scrap flannel covering the window next to Eddie's head.
He wanted to scoff, scratching at his jaw with a learned defensiveness. He was seated at the small card table they ate dinner at some night, back when he was younger and Wayne had wanted to give him something he'd not had before.
"Not many in this town would think that." Not many dressed like her, anyway.
She laughed, and something about the curve of her upper lip was familiar. "I suppose they wouldn't. But it's nicer than what I had, a banquet table full of empty chairs? A bunch of rooms we weren't allowed in? It was like living in a museum."
His lips twisted in thought, and he looked around again. At the water damage on the roof and the stain left by a stray pancake when Eddie was still learning how to flip them. Curtains made out of old sheets and a couch with sagging cushions where Eddie had fallen asleep with his head in his uncle's lap more than once.
"You have to hold on for a little while, okay?" She told him, kicking her legs so her heels thudded gently against the front of the washer. She was staring at him with dark eyes, and something in her expression made his chest ache. "You've still got a little bit of time."
(Later, a younger girl will walk through the door, head shaved and eyes too old for her face. She'll be confused to see them, and her voice will be soft and steady when she asks who they are.
Eddie will introduce himself, the girl on his washing machine won't.
The younger will call herself El, and tell them it's time to wake up. She'll take Eddies hand, palms warm and rougher than he'll expect, and suddenly he'll hear beeping. The murmur of voices he thought he'd lost.
El will reach for the girl on the washing machine, and she'll smile, head tilted sadly. "I'm too late for you to save, Supergirl."
She'll turn her smile on Eddie, brighter and still achingly familiar. He'll know where he's seen that smile before, and he'll have questions when he wakes up. In that moment, though, he'll feel bereft. Like he's lost a friend before he's known them.
"But he's still got plenty of fight left in him.")
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face time - eris
summary: Things get heated between Eris and his sugar baby over face time.
a/n: I recently saw some modern au pic about the bat boys, and couldn't help myself when it comes to our boy Eris. Also, anything in italics is part of a text conversation.
warnings: sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship, mutual masturbation, swearing
wc: 2,000
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You never thought you would ever go this far when you became a sugar baby. The men before were wealthy, but not stupid rich. So, they were into spending money, but they had limits. That all changed when you met Eris Vanserra.
If someone looked up the definition of ‘old money’, the Vanserra name was bound to pop up. That family had a finger in politics, energy, manufacturing, oil, technology, the stock exchange and more. And at the head of it all: Eris.
What he was doing at your club, you don’t know. It catered to a wealthy clientele, sure. The average person spent a couple hundred to a thousand a night there and that was still some money to spend for them. But to people like Eris, that was change.
You were lucky to be on bottle service that night and not being a bartender. You had worn a short, tight leather skirt and a red lace long-line bra as a top. And on your feet, bright red chunky platform heels. The make-up you had done was dark and smokey, giving you a mysterious look and paired with a bright red lip, you were irresistible.
To Eris at least. You didn’t think he paid a lot of attention to you, beyond the basic male stares you always got. But the next day, you received a phone call from him, asking to meet for lunch, and that he would be willing to pay your fee.
You decided to meet up with him, despite your concerns about how he got your number and knew that you were a sugar baby. He just said, “There are few things that money can’t buy. Information is not one of them.”
And thus began your sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship with Eris Vanserra. You had to sign an NAD and another contract outlining the rules and code of conduct for the duration of the relationship. You were thinking about that code of conduct, and wondering if it included the picture you were about to send him.
He often asked what you were wearing that day. You would send him a picture or short video of your outfit when he asked. He said he loved seeing you in the clothes he bought you.
But today, you had seen the text when you got out of the shower. Normally, you would send him a picture once you got dressed, but your relationship had grown some in the last month, so you were eager to see if he would let you tease him this much.
Eris: Let me see your outfit today, princess.
Y/N: im not wearing much rn
Y/N: still want to see??
The text bubbles popped up and left three times before he responded.
Eris: Let me see.
You darted out of the bathroom and to your dresser. You threw open the drawer that you kept your lingerie in. You rifled through the various scraps of lace and leather till you found what you were looking for. The red long-line bra that you were wearing as a top when you first met and the matching thong. You hastily put it on, hoping Eris wouldn’t get impatient.
It had been a long time since you had taken a sexy photo. You decide to do it in the full-length mirror, standing, twisting your body so that your supple ass was on display and the silhouette of your tits could be seen. It took a few tries to get the angle right, but you finally liked one of the selfies.
You took a deep breath before sending it to him.
Eris: You look divine, Y/N.
Eris: I recognize that top.
Eris: You took that right now, princess?
The flurry of texts caught you off guard. Eris was either a short texter or paragraphs. He only ever texted out of necessity, like when he was at work. Any other time you texted him, he responded with a phone call.
Y/N: yes I took it rn
Y/N: wanna see??
Immediately, a Face Time call from Eris lit up your screen and you answered, laughing a little.
“Someone’s eager this morning, hunh,” you asked, amusement in your voice.
His phone was moving, and you heard a door shut. Eris sighed as he made his way over to his chair and plopped down, relaxing for a rare moment.
“I shouldn’t have asked to see you in the middle of the day,” he rasped. “I can’t think of anything but you.”
“I would apologize,” you said. “But I’m not sorry.”
He smiled. Another rarity. “I know you aren’t, you little minx.”
Eris’ smile faded into seriousness. “Show me more.”
You gave him a seductresses smile and switched the POV of the phone so that it was capturing the mirror with your reflection in it. You began twisting and spinning, showing off all of you to the mirror, and Eris. You could see his expression darken with each swish of your hips and giggle of your tits.
“Thoughts,” you asked.
You saw Eris swallow, Adam’s apple bobbing near the collar of his shirt.
“You’re stunning, princess.”
“That’s all I get,” you mock pouted.
“You want more, you need to earn more.”
“Fine,” you agreed. “Hold on a second.”
You moved to prop your phone up on the base of the mirror so that you could still see him and see yourself in the mirror. Backing up a few feet from the phone, you gently lowered yourself down on the floor. You were on your knees, butt resting on your feet, and left your hands sitting on your lap.
“Can you still see me?”
“Yes, I can.”
“How do I look,” you asked coyly.
“Still stunning, just on the floor.”
“You’re impossible sometimes, you know that.” you laughed. “What do you want me to do?”
“Open your thighs, princess. Let me see you.”
You paused for a second. You knew another bottle girl who was also a cam girl and she told you stories about this all the time. And you had idea of where it was going. And you decided that it was worth it.
“Like this?” You spread your thighs wide, eager to give him what he wants.
“Good girl, princess. So perfect.”
Your blood thrummed at the praise and heat pooled in your core. Sugar baby or not, you craved the adoration and worship that came along in being with someone who knew how to properly praise their partner.
“What else,” you prodded him. “I’ll do whatever you want.”
“Whatever I want, hunh. Sounds tempting.” When you moved your phone, Eris had moved his so that it was further back on his desk, giving you a view of his whole upper body. He had taken off his suit jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, leaving his muscled forearms exposed.
“Are you wet, princess?” Eris asked.
“Yes,” you breathed. “Hearing you give me compliments makes me wet.”
“Oh, do you have praise kink, baby?”
You just gave the mirror a sly grin. You dragged your hand up from resting on your thigh, over your belly and breasts, finally finding purchase for it on your neck.
Eris’s gaze had heated to the point where you swore you could fell it from here.
“Do you like being ordered around, too?”
“I’m not opposed to it, provided there are limits.”
“We can talk about that later, princess. For now, pull that scrap of lace you are passing off as panties to the side.”
You didn’t know it was possible to be so turned on. You did as you were told, pulling the crotch of your panties to the side and started circling your clit. The other hand went to the floor for some balance.
“You read my mind princess,” Eris rasped. “Keep going.”
You did. Through the screen, you saw that he had unfastened his pants and now appeared to be palming himself through his underwear, though you couldn’t be sure from the distance you were from your phone.
“Holy hell, princess, just looking at you, sitting pretty like that was getting me hard. I just wanted to watch you, but now I need the release, or I won’t be able to think all day.”
“I like that you -ah- are getting off to me getting off,” you said, trying not to moan the words. “It makes me feel powerful.”
You felt the orgasm building in your core as you continued to rub your clit. This whole situation was an aphrodisiac.
“Finger yourself, baby. Fuck yourself like you would fuck me if I was there.”
You immediately plunged two fingers deep into your core and let you’re a lewd moan at the intrusion.
“That’s it, princess, ride your hand like a good little slut.”
You began moving on your hand. Riding it and grinding your clit down on the muscle of your thumb, creating the most delicious sensation. When you looked at your phone, Eris has taken his cock out and was stroking it in time with your grinds. In every other way, he was still composed. His tie was still fastened around his neck, his hair was styled in place, and he was seated in his office chair. However, his red, hard, throbbing cock was in his hand, and his face was contorted in his painful pleasure of watching you, but not being there physically to watch you cum.
“Eris, I wish this was your hand,” you moaned. And you weren’t lying to get paid, like your cam-girl friend had to do.
“I wish it was your pretty mouth on my cock, not my hand, baby,” Eris gritted out.
That made you ride your hand harder and faster than before, driven by his words.
You glanced up to look at yourself in the mirror. Your still damp hair was wild around you head. Your boobs were bounding with each motion you took, and the sight of you hand disappearing between your legs was intense. You just hoped Eris liked what he saw.
Any doubts about whether or not Eris liked the look of you were cut off when he let out a deep groan from the back of his throat. Even through the phone, the sound went straight to your core.
“Eris, I’m gonna cum,” you cried to the ceiling having dropped your head back.
“Yes, princess,” Eris demanded. “Let me see that that beautiful faces looks like when you find cum for me.”
So you did. You let out a sharp moan and let the waves of pleasure course through your body and you tried to keep riding your hand but couldn’t keep enough focus to.
When the orgasm faded enough that you had the sense to look at your phone, you saw Eris quickly lean forward and rip a tissue from a box on his desk. You crawled forward to watch as he stroked himself to completion. You watched as the pleasure overtook his features, enhancing his undeniable beauty even further.
As you both came down from your respective highs, panting at your efforts, you made eye contact with Eris, and smiled.
“Holy shit, Eris,” you breathed out. “That was amazing.”
“Agreed.”
You both sat there for a few more moments, looking at each other.
“Well, I’ll let you get back to work,” you decided to say, breaking the silence. “Are we still on for dinner tonight?”
“Yes, absolutely,” he said, looking around his office. “I’ll see you later.”
You said your good-byes and hung up.
You picked yourself off the floor, taking the soaked panties and uncomfortable bra off and changed into some sweatpants to do your schoolwork in.
You phone buzzed where you forgot it on the floor.
Eris: How much?
Y/N: that wasnt part of our deal
Eris: ?
Y/N: sex isnt part of our contract so no
payment needed
Eris: We will discuss this later.
Y/N: whatever you want
Y/N: but im not taking any money for it
Y/N: or any gifts
Eris: We will discuss this later.
Y/N: whatever, babes
You would be damned if you were going to get paid for that. You were a sugar baby. Eris was paying for your time, not sexual favors. You had the upmost respect for those who did get paid for sex, but that was not you.
And if Eris tried to make it that way, you would give him hell for it, weather it cost you your position or not.
taglist: @feysandzoyalailover @fanfictioniseverything @humanpersonlasttimeichecked @singhillada
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“I hate you.”
“Yeah, yeah, every inch, I know.”
“I like the painting.” It’s by far the nicest thing in this entire junk store. Maybe the only nice thing. Andrew concedes that it’s possible his perception is skewed.
“That’s not a painting, that’s what happens when someone is force-fed six tubes of paint and then made to vomit all over a canvas.”
Neil isn’t wrong, but still. “Fuck you, Josten. I’ve seen the kind of shit you call art and try to hang in our house.”
Neil grins. “It was one time. I had to bring it inside. Matt painted it for us.”
“It was fucking awful.”
“Why do you think I hung it in the entry? I have zero ability to say no to Matt these days. I was depending on you to halt its progression any further into our home and relegate it to the garage.”
“I should have relegated it to a dumpster and set it on fire.”
“It’s lucky you didn’t; they’re visiting next month.”
“Oh,” Andrew deadpans. “I must have forgotten.”
“Speaking of fires…”
Neil trails off. Andrew follows his gaze and is assaulted by the sight of a pair of wrought-iron fire pokers, topped with the melded naked forms of a couple apparently in the throes of passion. Delighted, Neil closes the gap and inspects each piece separately.
“Straights are so gross,” Andrew mutters. “And they have no fucking taste.”
“I’ll buy them for Matt and Dan,” Neil says, with a glint in his eye. “Payback for the terrible painting.”
Andrew gazes around the dimly lit space, spends 2.5 seconds trying to make sense of the chaos and promptly gives up. This part of the country is dotted with rambling buildings on the verge of collapse, poor cousin junk stores to the more-affluent areas’ antiques. Big smiles, broad accents, country service, selling second hand wares to idiotic city folk intent on bringing some wholesome rural goodness back to their sleek monochrome homes in the suburbs.
For every item that is both identifiable in its purpose and still in good working order, there are dozens more that are not. Ancient farming manuals sit beside chipped tea cups nestled in moth-eaten fabric scraps tossed into crumbling hat boxes. Rusty bicycles lean against shitty cabinets, their shelves filled with sepia photographs of people long dead. Decades old clothes hang from downtrodden hangers, one bad day away from despair.
Andrew thinks they smell like poverty and old men, but Neil is obsessed. There was one rocking chair, once, obscured behind a stack of large timber frames, its white and orange paint blistered and peeling from too many hot summers outside. Andrew had put his foot down, they weren’t 21 anymore, but Neil pointed to a warm brown strip of timber exposed on one of the legs, and promised to restore it. The black walnut chair now sat in their living room and was Andrew’s favorite place to sit and read when winter sun streamed through the window.
This junk store, aptly named Randy’s Remains at least acknowledges its proximity to imminent disintegration. Andrew wonders if all the shit lining the walls is acting as some kind of scaffolding and considers expediting the inevitable, buying a massive piece of hideous furniture and watching the whole building crumble as they drive away.
“What about this?” Neil asks from a nook or cranny somewhere beyond Andrew’s line of sight. God knows what he’s found now.
Andrew wanders in the direction of Neil’s voice and nearly trips over a rotting timber box of unidentifiable farming tools, rusted nails protruding ominously through the would-be joins.
“If we get out of here without tetanus it will be a miracle,” he mutters. He navigates a narrow passage, made more so by the bookshelf lining one wall and a bunch of random buckets fixed to the other. Here, a pile of round dial telephones, there a shelf of tea pots without lids and lids without pots. Hundreds of LPs threaten to escape their silverfish laced cardboard cases and roll to the ground. He steps over some rolled up posters that have already taken the plunge.
Against his better judgment, Andrew stretches up on his toes to eye the inside of one bucket and finds a collection of corroded harmonicas.
This fucking place. Neil can keep poking around if he wants, but Andrew’s going back to the van. He enters the back room to tell Neil as much and lets out a breathy “huh” when he sees what’s caught Neil’s eye. Hundreds of miles from its inspiration, in a crumbling junk shop full of worthless shit, is a painting of the rainforest in Jocassee Gorges. Andrew would recognise that suspension bridge anywhere. Sunlight filters through the canopy to the cool, clear water below and Andrew is taken back to Harriet’s maiden voyage that hot summer so many years ago. He stares at it for a full minute before turning to look at Neil, who of course is already looking at him. He can tell by the look on Neil’s face that his own is betraying his stubbornly held neutral facade, and he surrenders to the small smile he knows is there.
“Hold my pokers while I climb over this shit to get it down,” Neil demands, thrusting the iron abominations at Andrew.
Andrew lets them clatter to the floor, earning an eye roll from Neil, then watches as he climbs over an old church pew and picks his way past metal milk cans and a caucus of worn out golf bags, clubs poking out like unruly eyebrows on crusty old men who used to push them around.
The painting he does accept, turning it around to inspect the frame as Neil scoops up the pokers off the dart floor. It’s heavy, simply textured, and reminds him of the trees in the rainforest.
They pay the ancient lady behind the counter and Andrew makes a beeline for Harriet. He needs a hot shower, or a cool mountain pool. He’ll settle for the aircon.
“I like this painting,” Neil says, nudging Andrew’s shoulder as they walk.
“I like you,” Andrew replies, linking his pinkie with Neil’s. “Let’s get on the road.”
for @annawrites
(read the series here)
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Baby Doll part 2:
I still don’t have all my paint supplies, so I will be showing some of the clothing progress in this post. (If you missed it, part one is up before this)
I started with socks. I didn’t have white knit fabric, so I used an old tank top I had lying around (yay recycling)
I used the bottom half and discarded the top. I folded it in half and cut two rectangles, using the hem as the top of the socks
I sewed down the open sides, turned the sewn edge towards the middle, and pinned, stitched a rounded the toes
I then put them on the doll
Next I had to decide whether to give her bloomers, or a cloth diaper. I chose the latter, as many baby dolls from the era had cloth diapers fastened with large safety pins or straight pins. I chose to incorporate buttons and buttonholes instead to save myself from potentially being stabbed.
I created a pattern based on the dolls measurements (which I forgot to take pictures of, oops)
And cut two of each piece (this is important if you don’t want to hem something that is all curves)
I then sewed all the way around, leaving the crotch area open to turn it right side out, I then turned the pieces and zigzagged around the edges to keep the seams flat and nice looking.
I stitched the pieces together along the crotch seam, and placed buttonholes into the ends of the long back piece. Then I cut open the buttonholes and sewed the buttons to the front piece where the sides overlapped while it was on the doll. This is how it turned out. Not bad.
I then started on the slip, which will go underneath the dress to help it puff out, I also forgot to take pictures of this, so I will try to explain the best I can. I cut four strips of 6” tall 17” long white fabric (all I had was scrap) and sewed two each together to make two long strips of fabric. I hemmed one long edge of both, and sewed 2” wide lace trim to the bottom edges. I then sewed the other edge closed, making two circles of fabric, I put them together along the top, making two layers, and then gathered them to fit the dolls waist. I finished the top with a waistband and put it on the doll. Here it is finished.
The slip reaches about to her finger tips, as the dress will also be that length when finished. That’s all for now. Stay tuned for part 3!
#raggedy ann#raggedy ann and andy#raggedy andy#ooak dolls#dollartistsofinstagram#classictoys#raggedy ann revival effort#raggedyannandandy#dollartist#rag dolly#baby doll from raggedy Ann
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A list of things I sewed in 2022
Last year I compiled a list of the things I sewed in 2021, except for some reason, I made the list in November so it missed some of the stuff I made at the end of the year, like my reversible apron and the cottagecore/modernized chemise a la reine, among others.
So this year, I figured I’d actually do my year of sewing in review at the actual end of the year. (Btw I have no idea if these are actually in chronological order. This is just the order I found them in on my blog, which is the order in which I photographed them.)
First, a needle holder made from scraps of fabric from old projects, because I was just keeping all my needles in plastic cases and desperately needed a better way to organize them.
Then I made a short underbust c0rset I drafted myself by tweaking the fit issues I had from the previous c0rset I made and self-drafted in 2021. That previous c0rset was based on a dress pattern that I got by tracing one of my dresses that I then used to make the silk satin dress I wore to a friend’s wedding. (Yes, this c0rset was made with the same navy blue silk satin I used for the dress. No, the two projects have nothing to do with each other, as the dress was not made to be worn over a c0rset.) It has a zipper front and laces completely up in the back since it’s not meant for waist reduction. I use it as a back brace for days at work when I’m expecting to spend a lot of time standing.
Then there were the first regency shift, short stays, and partially bodiced petticoat that I made and never got around to using for anything because the silhouette wasn’t right for the 1810-1815 era gown I want to make. I still have them hanging in my closet for when I finally get around to making something from the earlier 1790s-1805 era. The partially bodiced petticoat is absolutely necessary because I made the stays a little too long and they rise above the mid-bust level and make lines. The shift works fine for this set of stays, but it’s just a tad tight in the bust to work with later stays that lift the bustline much higher.
Because the regency short stays weren’t the right shape and height for the 1810s look I was aiming for, I made another set of regency stays after that. This I made and immediately hated because the silhouette was all wrong. I used the Bernhardt pattern but didn’t get the bust and hip gusset shapes right, and I used bias tape for binding, instead of straight grain binding, so the whole top edge stretched out and flattened my bust instead of lifting it. I also found out that the Bernhardt stays pattern just inherently doesn’t work if you have scoliosis at the level of your spine where you take the measurements needed for scaling this pattern. These stays are now in my scrap bag because I harvested the boning and lacing from them for the new and improved pair (discussed below but not pictured, for decency reasons).
After that came the historybounding Victwardian shirtwaist and skirt that I made this summer. The floral skirt is a calf-length full circle skirt with a pleated back and is my absolute favorite skirt in my wardrobe, if only for the sheer amount of work that went into making it. The only issue is that I miscalculated when I was cutting out the waistband, so it ended up about 1 inch too short. It’s still wearable though, and I don’t mind it too much because the slightly tighter waistband means that the weight of the back pleats won’t drag the back of the waistband down. Alas, I don’t wear it all that often because I spend all of my waking hours either in a hospital where I wear scrubs or in a doctor’s office where people cough on stuff. While the skirt is machine washable, it’s a nightmare to iron, and the sateen weave warps with every wash. The blouse I’m much less fond of because it’s too poofy for daily wear, and the lace collar is annoying to deal with because it somehow manages to gape and choke me at the same time.
Then I took apart my purple floral skirt from 2021 and remade it because I have control issues and perfectionism issues and there is a long list of problems I had with the original skirt and wanted to fix:
Because my first attempt at a Victwardian shirtwaist was only minimally successful, I took another attempt at a historybounding blouse, this time with a Peter Pan collar and tucks instead of lace. I did go back and reposition the sleeve gathers after taking this picture. Still not entirely happy with the sleeves because I prefer 3/4 length or elbow length sleeves, so I tend to roll these up when I wear them. Also not entirely happy with the positioning of the collar. I feel like it should be higher up on the neck and sloped, not flat against the collarbone area, so I kind of want to make a set of detachable Peter Pan collars that I can wear with different outfits.
Then in August-September, I made the Capetember cape while working inpatient for a month. I didn’t end up wearing this one as much as I thought I would, mostly because it’s too short to curl up and wrap myself up to lounge in. But it did keep me warm for the like 2 slightly chilly days of autumn we had this year. Next time I’m including arm slits for practicality.
My first attempt at Edwardian/late Victorian combinations took 2 solid weeks. The combinations themselves didn’t take all that long to assemble or drape on myself, but what sucked up most of that time was the amount of hand embroidering I took upon myself to do because I couldn’t find the right kind of beading lace to go on the waistband and leg cuffs. The combinations are based on the extant from the Met. I think I ended up making the straps too short because it’s not blousing at the waist quite right. The waistband lace is pretty, but it’s too bulky to wear under c0rsets, and I cut the buttonholes too narrow for the ribbon to come through without puckering and folding on itself. The drawers overall are just not full enough and bunch too much in certain places, so if I ever make this again, I’m going to try the Laura Baldt Clothing for Women circular drawers pattern instead. I would also go for a thinner, drapey-er fabric next time.
Then I made another c0rset. This time it’s an Edwardian S-bend c0rset based on the Aranea Black Tulip pattern. It’s made from a heavy cotton canvas with an outer layer of silk shantung. It’s also the first c0rset I’ve made thus far that actually has a metal split busk, which makes getting in and out of it way faster. It still needs some hip padding to fit properly, so that’s going to have to be a project for next year.
The S-bend c0rset doesn’t actually fit without a bust improver, which I made from stash/scrap fabric based on the LACMA extant:
And then I finally circled back to the regency era to make a new set of stays to redeem myself. They’re definitely an improvement on the old pair, but I can’t post pictures because it’s an underbust design, and the historically inaccurate cotton voile shift I’m wearing under them is completely sheer. So you’re just going to have to enjoy this photo of the new fully bodiced petticoat that I also made around that time and am wearing over it for modesty. (You can also barely see how the shift is just ever so slightly compressing my bust down because the new stays lift it into a higher position than the shift has room for.)
And then, since I was in the business of doing everything twice when it comes to regency costuming, I made another regency shift. This one is made from 100% linen (but probably not as sturdy as 19th century linen). It makes for a really comfy nightgown too.
And then, I finally got started on the regency gown project that I keep referencing but never got off my butt to do this year. I managed to embroider and finish the bodice before the end of 2022, so I’m including it on this list even though the gown is still nowhere near finished. (Using my hand as a censor bar because my new 1810s stays are really good at lifting the bust, and my new shift was being Opinionated today and didn’t want to help contain it.) The final gown will have a front bib panel that’s attached to the apron front skirt and will cover everything that’s currently threatening to spill out of the neckline of my shift.
Not included in photos because I didn’t think they were worth photographing:
a seam roll I made from scraps of the purple floral and black and white chair slipcover fabrics
a set of fabric face masks I made from the last scraps of the same two fabrics. I haven’t worn them all that much, though, since they tend to fog my glasses and I prefer the regular blue masks
a couple of polyester satin half-slips that I made to wear under my skirts so they don’t cling to my tights when I walk
a mousepad I made for a coworker’s birthday
a wine tote and matching coasters I made for another coworker’s birthday
a couple of floral embroidery pieces I made for two other coworkers’ birthdays
an apron I made as a going-away present for a former coworker’s graduation
a fleece blanket I made for my cat
a pocket I sewed into the inside of my whitecoat so I could have my iPad on my person while rounding in the hospital without worrying about accidentally leaving it in a patient room
a newer, bigger, studier tote bag to replace the one I made in 2021 (nothing happened to the old one, I just wanted a bigger bag for work)
an alteration I made to improve the fit of a dress I’ve owned since 2017 that had since shrunk in the wash and was too tight in the shoulder area
an Edwardian dip waist belt I made from the same floral fabric I used for the skirt above
Overall, this looks like a pretty good list for someone who sews exclusively by hand. With 33 projects/items made, and me working 12 weeks of inpatient shifts in the past year, I’m basically averaging about 1 project per week on the weeks that I have the energy for creative pursuits.
Looking back, it seems like about half the things I made this year were 1800s-1810s and 1900s underwear that no one is ever going to see. Hopefully I’ll get around to making actual clothes to go over these pieces in the coming new year.
#historical costuming#long post#sewing#hand sewing#tricia sews (kind of)#everything was entirely hand sewn because i don't own or know how to use a sewing machine#year in review#next year I have got to make some progress on the regency gown#and i also want to make an edwardian/historybounding summer skirt and petticoat#plus or minus on another shirtwaist/bodice
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Top third or so of the pleated panel is sewn down!
I tried out a couple of different methods for handsewing this to the shoulder and sleeve, but after a few inches of each, the 'stitch in the ditch' method was the clear winner. It's basically invisible, and lets the piping stand up as it ought to. I'm doing a stitch about every 1/8th inch, and keeping most of the distance on the top so that the stitches inside the sleeve are as small as possible, and won't get caught on things. I'm getting faster with the technique, so I'm hoping to buzz through the rest of this sleeve and the other one over the next few days.
But I'm also going to be interspersing this sewing with starting on my vest scratch build. I was able to find the pattern I made for my vest for The Moment way back in 2014 (it was exactly where I thought it would be, hurrah for keeping old patterns), and I spent some time staring at the existing vest in the mirror and pin-marking the changes I would like to make.
There are enough small changes that I'm going to just draft a new version of the pattern using the old one as a guide. But there are only the four main body pieces that really need re-drafting, and once it's something I can try on then I'll figure out how I'm doing the new collar (so it doesn't look so much like a motorcycle jacket), and I might just drape the new collar on me while I'm wearing the in-progress vest.
Over the weekend I also went though my stash looking for fabrics that have enough yardage (or at least big pieces) to cut out the body of the vest, and after comparing all those to the pieces I know I'll definitely be wearing as part of my Batuu Bound -- gray hooded wrap, brown leather belt/bag/gloves, and black leather-look leggings -- with Jack's help I decided on some lovely dark navy linen that I've had in my stash for years, left over from a dress project. It's on the heavier side for linens, but not quite as stiff as the canvas the Moment vest is made from, but I think it'll work nicely.
I'm going to stick with the basic lines from the Moment vest, including the diagonal cross-body closure. After noodling on this for a week or more, what I've decided to do is a shorter zipper that ends around underbust level or just slightly higher, and then a flap over that with either no visible closures, or some cool looking Star Wars-y buckles or something. I have a few ideas for that, but I won't make any decisions until I can try the new vest on. The separating zipper and the thread for this project have been ordered and should arrive before I'm anywhere close to needing them. Pics on this whole vest project as it develops.
Beyond that, I need to add a tiny dot of glue to a pendant that I made (in the upper left of the photo -- it looks a bit like Jyn Erso's kyber crystal necklace, but smaller with more of a blue tone to it) to make sure the wrappings stay attached. I still want to figure out something to cover the lacings of my big Doc Martens, either wraps over the whole boot or a suede panel that snaps onto the lacings or something of that sort. I've started to gather other accessories, and there are a couple of things I want to order (in particular my Captain's License, once I can settle on a name and spelling for my OC, lol).
I have a long sleeve shirt to go under the vest that works with my color pallet, and an idea (and fabric) for another shirt I could sew, but the weather has been so all over the place lately (80 degrees and sunny! no wait, 60 degrees and rainy!) that I don't want to put too much effort into the shirt until I've got a better idea of the weather we'll have 4 weeks from now. Finishing Jack's jacket and making my vest are definitely the priorities.
4 weeks to go! Hokay, I've got a pile of linen scraps to go iron.
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Stash Organizing Day! I finally got all the furniture into my bedroom after a year of living here (long story) and came to the conclusion that it was time to Stop storing my yarn in trashbags (mostly, I have to get a couple more plastic totes). Photo dump and rambling under the read more.
Here is all my yarn that I don't consider an "active" project (MOSTLY, there's an active project in the pink tote bag (Shawl 13) but I wanted to put up the extra colours I was finished with and it was easier to carry the whole thing in).
The already filled plastic tote has all my wool yarns in it (also in ziplock bags because these totes aren't airtight). I'll eventually organize them better and lay them all out for a photo too but for now they're staying Contained. Instead I dumped all my acrylic yarn out of the trash bag it was in.
Before starting Blanket 10 my acrylic yarn took up about twice as much room as it does now. The big pile on the left is all the scraps from it that I'm undecided as to what to do with them. Other than that mess, along the top is some Lion Brand Jeans yarn I had bought for a striped sweater that I swatched for and never made. Below that is all my fingering weight acrylic, mostly Loops and Threads Woollike. The big cake is one of the 300 gram Lion Brand Mandala cakes.
Also acrylic but kept in the very cute Purple Hawaiian Hello Kitty Tote Bag(TM) is a metric fuck ton of Lion Brand Re-Spun. I knit one strip out of like 9 for a blanket before realizing I wasn't having fun and it hurt my hands and I didn't like it. I don't know if I want to frog it or not or what to do with this yarn so I've just kinda been sitting on it, I might end up with another granny stitch blanket.
For now my acrylics are all staying in the trash bag, I currently only have one other plastic tote and I'm going to use it for my cottons.
By weight the majority of my cotton yarns are Hobbii brand Cotton Kings Sultan. I like knitting with them, they're pretty, I'm using the bottom three as decor in my room. Right now I only have projects set out for two of them (the peachy orange one and the two rainbows (i bought them with the intention of using them together in a huge brioche project and still don't have a pattern picked out lmao)), but it won't be hard for me to find more lace doily patterns to make giant. Most of the scrap (middle bottom) is also from Sultan cakes, and directly above it is some fingering weight cotton also Cotton Kings brand.
On the right bottom is all that's left of my Knit Picks Dishie out of my original purchase of something like a dozen and a half balls. I did give a couple balls of it to my aunt but most of it I used, I really really Really like Dishie. Finally on the right top is my size 10 crochet cotton.
I didn't grab photos of all my bulky yarn bought for suffies because I'm honestly not sure what to do with it and for now most of it is staying in it's cardboard box. Bad Yarn Gets The Box.
There's also the pile of Shame. Some of them are completed projects I don't have a good storage place for, most of them are incomplete projects. There are several projects I need to either frog, finish, give away, or throw out and I just do not want to decide right now. There's also at least one shawl in that pile that I finished while living at my old house and never got to block because of space concerns and simply haven't. Blocked it even tho I have space now.
I Think that is all of my yarn that isn't currently being used for a project. It feels really good to finally get everything organized and out of my actual work area. I still have some things I need to find places for (the shame pile and all my sewing materials mainly) but I got rid of the Yarn Mess by literally hiding it under my bed <3
#Feels Great Man. No longer will people walk in my room point at my Yarn Trashbags and Go “Why are you like this”#these plastic totes fit perfectly under my bed you can't even SEE my yarn stash#with a couple of exceptions. the ONLY clutter in my bedroom is my actual decor.#which feels fucking so clean and nice.#that being said. my work/computer desk is a fucking wreck. but i simply do not care.#it's a mess but it's a controlled mess and i know where everything is <3 until i don't but i find it eventually
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METHOD OF CONSTRUCTION: Layered Scrunchie
For my scrunchie, I opted for a lace, cotton and gingham combination. This meant I needed an old top with a lace edge that was sturdy enough for the weight of the cotton and to be structured as a scrunchie. I had an old top perfect for this. I then got some scrap cotton and red gingham for details.
(Instructions are subject to the materials I had, following no pattern)
Cut lace edge from old top.
Cut strip(s) of cotton to measure length of lace cut-out.
Cut strip(s) of ribbon to measure length of lace cut-out.
Sew ribbon and lace edges together.
Pin lace to cotton, right sides together, leaving an inch of cotton below edge of lace.
Sew raw edge of material together.
Flip so the sewn edge is not to be seen
Place hair tie around the circumference of the scrunchie/material (there should be a clear indicator to where the circular shape will form if all steps above are followed correctly.)
Sew together the edges of the scrunchie to close the circle.
Sew the inner circle with the bobble, pulling material tight to avoid any bumps.
This will close the bobble into the material and leave it seamless.
Sew brand tag onto the cotton of the scrunchie.
(VIDEOS INCLUDED IN ANOTHER POST)
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The Natural Way of Things
Based on this request: "I was wondering if you could do a hiccup x goddess reader who control nature and I was wondering if you could set in httyd 2 where the reader uses her titan to fight drago and the alpha but she sacrifice her life for berk as she freezes to death (like nari from trollshunters)"
i have not actually seen trollhunters so i hope i still managed to do this request justice <3 it was so good (and i would never pass up an opportunity to do angst!)
masterlist
Hiccup is wasting his time. He’s avoiding his father’s call to come help with chieftain duties yet again, which means that Hiccup is searching for any and all excuses to stay hidden. Right now, he’s sifting through old chests buried deep in the recesses of his family’s house. Some of this stuff hasn’t been found in years, which is exactly the energy Hiccup is trying to channel at the moment.
Perusing the stacks of generations-old note keeping, he’s struck by one chest in the back. Judging by the style of inlaid designs, it’s among the oldest here. Spiderwebs practically tie the thing down, and there’s enough dust coating the top that it appears to have undergone a recent snowfall.
Curious, Hiccup reaches for the iron lock securing the lid in place. It has garnered enough rust over the past couple hundred years that it twists off in his hands, whoops. He carefully places it aside, promising himself that he’ll look into getting that fixed even though he knows full well that he won’t.
Hiccup lifts the top of the chest, leaning it back against the wall. There isn’t much inside, a few old spearheads and archaic treasures that every chieftain keeps around in the hopes of inspiring some kind of story. Hiccup’s about to declare the whole venture worthless when his eyes catch on a handmade leather satchel at the very back.
Great pains have been taken to keep the thing closed, with a significant number of cumbersome stitches lacing the opening shut. However, time and age have conspired to make the thread weaken, and the leather has gaped open just enough so that Hiccup can see a scrap of paper tucked away inside. He can make out some kind of writing scrawled onto the page, but in the mere half-light of the torch glowing in the brazier beside him, he can’t tell what it says.
Hiccup considers the fact that he probably shouldn’t be opening this, just going off of the efforts his ancestors have gone to in order to keep the thing shut, then decides to open it anyway. Ancient traditions are no match for teenage boredom.
The years have weakened the threads enough that Hiccup can open the leather pouch with ease, and seconds later he pulls out the paper and unfolds it in his hands. The words detailed on the page are in his language, but they seem antiquated, and describe some sort of process that has long gone out of fashion, if it was ever in fashion at all.
Hiccup stands up, walking closer to his torch so more light can fall on the aged paper. Brow furrowed, he starts to read aloud, although what he’s saying seems more like meaningless gibberish than anything else.
Towards the end of his unintelligible sermon, Hiccup realizes that he recognizes the syllables his mouth is shaping. A long time ago, he and a couple of friends had stumbled upon ancient texts in what served as the Berk record keeping area. His father had been furious when he discovered the kids paging through what Hiccup later found out were pagan spells, the stuff of nightmares.
This writing looks exactly like those spells, and as Hiccup keeps going, he feels something change in the air, as if the ground is no longer as solid beneath his feet. A sudden wind comes, despite the fact that he is indoors, and scatters the dust on the multitude of chests still littering the room. Hiccup blinks to ward off the sudden change in pressure, and when he opens his eyes again, he is no longer alone.
Hiccup stumbles back in surprise. There’s a young woman standing before him, and although she appears to be about his age, Hiccup has long since learned that you can never trust your eyes on matters like this.
He regards her cautiously, still unwilling to recover the distance he lost. “Who are you, and why are you here?”
The woman laughs, and the sound reminds Hiccup of wind moving through trees, the deep rustle of leaves against branches. “Why am I here? I assumed you would know, you’re the one who summoned me.”
“I summoned you?” Hiccup asks. He feels that he should be more aware of that. Shouldn’t someone know if they were summoning people?
The woman nods, like he’s an idiot. “Yeah, you read the summoning spell. What do you people need now? If you say a miracle, you’ll have to be more specific. I think I’m going to start performing random miracles if I get asked that one more time. Maybe I’ll grant your enemies unlimited harvests or something.”
Hiccup is feeling more confused by the second. “You can grant miracles?”
The woman spreads her hands. “Well, among other things, yeah.” She takes in the bewildered look on his face and sighs. “You don’t know who I am, do you?”
Hiccup winces. “Not at all, sorry. I just found that spell, but I don’t know what it does.”
The woman considers him a moment longer, then shrugs. “Cool. Less work for me, at any rate. I’m Y/N, by the way.”
Hiccup nearly chokes. “Like the nature goddess?”
She flashes him a grin, bright as the flame of a torch. “Exactly like the nature goddess. Your ancestors must have had a summoning spell and never talked about it. I can’t blame them, I’m contractually obligated to answer at least one request and I could do anything from promising you that you’ll never face a drought to smiting your foes.”
Y/N smiles, as if this casual smiting offer is nothing to worry about. Hiccup’s fairly sure that it is, though.
“Uh, I don’t need anything right now, I think. I’m sure some of the other people in the village might need you, though, maybe with their harvests or something.”
Y/N looks intrigued by this. “I think you’re the first person to think about someone else when offered a godly favor.”
Hiccup swallows hard. “What does that mean?”
She grins again. “It means I like you more than the rest, obviously. Now, I could technically go back to Asgard, but it has been a little boring of late, and I wouldn’t mind the distraction. Do you mind if I walk around your village for a while? I’d love to see what humanity is up to from your point of view.”
Hiccup nods a little too quickly. “Yeah, no problem.”
He’s now got a friendly goddess just casually strolling around beside him. No problem at all, right?
Wrong. He is so afraid of doing something to make her angry and risk the incurrent smiting of his village that Hiccup can barely think straight. Eventually, she takes pity on him, and tells him straight up to start stressing so much.
“I’m not going to kill you, or anybody you know. I swear it. Now, can you please stop panicking? Your pacing is freaking out the birds.”
Hiccup freezes mid-pace. “Uh, sorry. I just don’t know how to deal with this, I guess. I’ve never met a goddess before.”
Y/N leans against a nearby tree and considers this. “Most people don’t. The gods like to stay up in their respective domains or Odin’s palace. I suppose I’m the exception. I think you guys are fun.”
Hiccup lifts a brow. “Thanks, I think. If you had the chance, though, why would you choose to walk with mortals if you could go live with the gods forever? I figure we’d be way more of a mess.”
Y/N points a finger at him. “See, that’s exactly why I don’t want to be with the gods. So many of us get distracted with immortality that they’re a dreadful waste of company. Most of the time, we don’t die, but some of the gods spend so many years trying to avoid a potential fate that they don’t actually live. They’ll stay up there forever, not any different from when they were first born. Humans change so fast, but the gods linger on forever.”
Hiccup blows out a slow breath as he thinks about this. “Isn’t it terribly boring, then? To go so long and be the same person forever?”
Y/N nods. “Exactly. That’s why we do things like cause human wars or visit human villages. It never lasts long, but it does break the monotony.”
Hiccup taps a hand absentmindedly against his leg. “If you’re here to break the monotony, can I ask that you stick to the ‘visiting human villages’ part and not start wars? We’re not really in a position for that.”
This is quite true- thanks to all the dragons, Berk is in a bit of a precarious position, and not just because one poorly timed blast of fire could send the entire town plummeting into the sea. Hiccup really doesn’t think he could take a war right now, not since he’s trying to figure out how to be a chieftain due to the possibility that his dad is going to retire over the course of the next couple of years.
Y/N smirks. “I’ll do my best. Besides, I don’t really want to cause a war. I just want to go around, hearing what the earth has to say and maybe fixing a few things along the way. Some of your cliffs need maintenance, and having so many fire breathing dragons smoking up the place really isn’t great for your air quality.”
Hiccup shrugs. “Stay as long as you like. I wouldn’t mind the company.”
He probably shouldn’t be so forward with a goddess, but the words are already out there, so it’s not like he can really do anything about it. Besides, Y/N smiles at him so brightly the second he says it that Hiccup doesn’t mind his lack of a filter.
As it turns out, having Y/N stay in Berk is absolutely amazing. At first, Hiccup didn’t really know what to do, whether or not he’s supposed to treat her like the divinity that she is or just as he would another mortal. In the end, Hiccup decides to act as if she’s a friend, and soon enough, that is exactly what she becomes. Being near her lets him look at the world through the eyes of someone who’s been around for quite a long time, and Hiccup develops a better appreciation for all of the small quirks that make Berk what it is.
Even his father’s obvious hints that Hiccup will one day take up the mantle of village chieftain don’t seem so bad. It’s what would always happen, that much is clear, but talking to Y/N made him realize that he doesn’t have to fear the passage of time. The years will come, they always do, but the best way to live is to face everything head-on. That’s how you make the memories that matter most, after all.
Hiccup thought he could handle everything that would come his way. He was sure of it, in fact, after a couple months went by and he still doesn’t have to face a world without Y/N there beside him.
Yet why is it that he stands alone now, watching a funeral barge burst into flames? Hiccup believed that he was ready to face everything the world could throw at him, but it turns out that he was very, very wrong. There is one thing that he cannot bear, and that is the death of his father. His mother is now here, somewhere in the background behind him, but Hiccup can’t just switch out one parent for the next and pretend that everything is the same.
This hurt cuts like a blade, and there is no way to escape its dull agony. The loss pierces every aspect of Hiccup’s life, even in the ways he didn’t expect. Adjusting the sword at his belt, Hiccup remembers the first time his dad taught him how to handle a weapon. Staring out at the ocean, Hiccup pictures memories of himself when he was little, learning how to swim or sail a boat or anything that Stoick could teach him. All of that is gone now, except for the pictures in his head.
He will have his revenge, of that there is no question. Hiccup forms a band of soldiers willing to fight. Among them are his childhood friends, now grown into warriors of their own right, his newly rediscovered mother, and Y/N. Hiccup got the initial sense that she didn’t want to take part in the conflicts of mortals, but she refused to leave his side if it meant getting payback for the death of his father. Now, she’s dressed in a god’s battle armor, and he doesn’t think there has ever been a better sight.
Drago doesn’t know what’s coming for him, that much is certain. Hiccup’s party touches down on the battlefield, swords drawn and battle cries howling from throats. Hiccup feels a rush of adrenaline unlike anything he’s ever known before, and it is utterly fantastic. In the past, he’s worried about not becoming a great warrior like his father, but he changes that tide of history today. Right now, Hiccup is deadly, he is bloodthirsty, he is ready. He is his father’s son.
That isn’t to say that the fight isn’t difficult, though, far from it. Hiccup manages to break Toothless from Drago’s dragon’s hypnosis, but the larger dragon is still out and killing swathes of fighters at a time. Something has to be done about it, but Hiccup has no idea how to take on the dragon and its master while they’re still rampaging like the gods themselves.
Someone moves beside him, and Hiccup turns to see Y/N walking up, her eyes fixed on the scene ahead.
“We have to take out the dragon. After that, we can kill Drago, no problem.” She says, and Hiccup nods in agreement.
“The only problem is that I don’t know how. Toothless barely survived the hypnosis, I don’t know if he can take another strong fight.”
Y/N considers this, then turns to him. “I know how.”
Hiccup cocks his head to the side, trying to figure out why she looks so sad all of a sudden. “What do you mean?”
She smiles, and Hiccup doesn’t think he’s ever seen a happy expression look so utterly tragic. “You’ll see in a moment. It’s just- you’ve made this all worth it, you know? All of it. Thanks for giving me a chance to live.”
Y/N reaches out to squeeze his hand once, and then she turns and runs, sprinting down towards the battlefield until she can reach Drago and his dragon face to face. She spreads her arms, and the very earth itself shakes and cracks, rising suddenly until it seems taller than a mountain. It moves with her every command, stalking almost like an animal towards the enemy dragon.
The dragon snarls a blast of sheer ice towards Y/N’s earthen creation, which falters but continues on. The soil around her seems damaged, though, something Drago notices with a delighted cackle. Seconds later, the enemy dragon shoots ice again, this time not directed at Y/N’s natural challenger but at her. She stumbles, the entire ground shaking for miles around, and almost falls.
Hiccup thinks he screams, but he can’t tell. Someone’s holding him back, and no matter how hard he tries, he cannot run to her. The ice was too strong, while she was expending too much energy trying to maintain her creation. It’s killing her, he can tell that much, but even as the ice climbs slowly and resolutely towards her, she forces her creature forward. It slams into the dragon, shoving a spear of rock down its throat.
The dragon chokes on it, spitting out soil, but it’s too late, and it curls in on itself and moves no more. Y/N, though, is lost as well. The ice reaches her now, crawling up her vines and stones until it touches her hands. From there, it spreads in seconds, hardening the very heart that Hiccup has grown to admire. She has time to look back at him just the once, so Hiccup has the perfect view as the ice fully encases her. Seconds later, it shatters, and Hiccup is left with nothing to remember her by but his memories yet again.
From there, it is easy to kill Drago. Down his primary dragon, Drago is just a man, and Hiccup is filled with enough wrath to throttle a thousand warriors. Once it’s done, and once the dragons have been freed, it still isn’t enough. Hiccup is consumed by grief. Losing his father should have killed him, but losing Y/N? It wasn’t even a possibility that he could consider.
Hiccup doesn’t entirely remember how he got back to Berk. Maybe someone got him onto his dragon so Toothless could fly him home, but he has no recollection of the journey. Hiccup wakes up potentially days later, although he wishes he could go to sleep for another couple of years. Maybe when he finally forces himself out of unconsciousness in a decade or so, he’ll finally be ready to face the immense loss he feels right now.
Turning over onto his side in an attempt to block out the light peeking in through his windows, Hiccup’s gaze catches on something folded neatly on a table near his bed. Sitting up, he reaches for it, and realizes that it’s a letter. He opens it, and what is written inside makes the tears course even more readily than before.
Dear Hiccup,
If you’re reading this note, it means I wasn’t able to retrieve it, and I’m probably dead. I thought something like this would happen; I have never been one for combat, but I think you knew that. Gods cause wars, they don’t fight in them. I wasn’t ready for this, but if it meant protecting you and your village, I would die a hundred times over again. I have made my peace with this, and so must you.
I’m sorry to leave you after yet another loss, but it must happen. The earth will keep on surviving even if I’m gone, don’t worry about that, but it still needs people to look after it. Plant a tree or something for me, will you? Anything to make sure it stays around.
I have to go now, you’re calling for me and I want to be ready with my answer. Don’t let yourself be dragged down by this, Hiccup, I have always liked your smile too much for that.
I just realized that you first met me with a letter, and now I’m saying goodbye with one too. I suppose Fate has a sense of humor when it comes to its favorite characters. You were mine, if it means anything.
Y/N L/N
It takes Hiccup a long time to stop clutching the paper, even after his tears mar the paper and smudge her scrawled handwriting. He’s already broken her wish to keep his chin up, but he can hardly help that, can he?
At some point, he forces himself to put the letter down and step outside his cabin. He isn’t strong enough to see people yet, especially because he knows that they’ll try to talk to him about this, so he disappears into the woods instead. He moves blindly at first, not really caring about where he’s going or what he’s doing, but eventually he stops in a clearing, and looks around.
It’s beautiful here, he can admit that. The morning sun is shining through the trees, and birds call out greetings from their hidden vistas in branches and on top of cliffs. If he tries, he thinks he can sense her here, somewhere, in this place that was her home. The earth is hers, all of nature is hers, and now here he is, trying to find her again. Hiccup closes his eyes, and when a breeze ripples through the glen, he swears that he can almost feel a hand in his.
Perhaps he isn’t so alone after all.
requested by @chocotacobread, thank you for your patience in my getting this out!
disney tag list: @rogueanschel, @lovesanimals0000, @thatfangirl42, @amortensie, @avadakadabra93
#hiccup#hiccup imagines#hiccup x reader#hiccup oneshot#hiccup haddock#hiccup haddock imagines#hiccup haddock x reader#hiccup haddock oneshot#httyd#httyd imagines#httyd x reader#httyd oneshot#disney#disney imagines#disney x reader#disney oneshot#how to train your dragon#how to train your dragon imagines#how to train your dragon x reader#how to train your dragon oneshot#httyd hiccup#httyd hiccup imagines#httyd hiccup x reader#httyd hiccup oneshot
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If RE8 requests are still open, do you think you could do one where the reader is the partner/spouse of four lords (separately, not poly) who went missing years ago and they thought us dead. But then surprise!!! We’re alive!!! And just the whole aftermath of that? Sorry the description is kind of bad😅 (if you could include cute moments with the daughters in Alcina’s section that would be cute cause the girls need that sweet parental love lmao)
Okay so these are super messy and all over the place since i wrote this back to back with other hc’s so they’re unedited and make literally no sense but pls enjoy some angsty fluff with lots of lovin’ and huggin’
Alcina Dimitrescu
Alcina is startled by the sound of a knock at her door, placing her book down on the coffee table as she walks to the door, curious as to who is there. She wasn’t expecting visitors.
“Ooh visitors!” “I wonder who is there?!” “Could it be Uncle Karl? Or maybe it’s the Duke?”
Alcina would have scolded her daughters for being impatient if she wasn’t asking herself the same questions. However he mind is wiped blank when she opens the door to see who is standing on the other side.
There you are, standing in front of her after all these years. God how she had missed you. You hadn’t changed much at all since she last saw you and it made Alcina feel like she was hallucinating.
“Hello, my Lady-“
You can’t finish your sentence before you’re tackled to the floor by three teenagers. Cassandra has her arm slung around your neck as she plasters herself to your side while Bela is practically balled on top of you in a bear hug so tight it could almost kill you. Meanwhile Daniela has her face hidden tightly in your shoulder on the opposite side of Cassandra with tears streaming down her face.
Eventually with their mother’s persistence, the three daughters let you go so you can see their mother but not before you wipe away any of their tears and kiss all of them on the forehead.
Your heart skips a beat as you prepare your list of apologies to Alcina. You could only imagine what it would have been like for her when you disappeared without a trace.
The words never leave your mouth as she brings you into her arms and kisses you with a desperate ed’s that you matched. Your arms cling tightly to the fabric on her shoulders, never wanting to let go as her arms tighten around your waist.
You spend the rest of the night curled up on the couch in Alcina’s arms, she hadn’t let go of you once as you explained to her the nature of your disappearance. None of it really mattered though as you were just happy to be reunited with your family.
Donna Beneveinto
Your heart feels like it’s breaking out of your chest as you walked towards Beneveinto Manor, it had been literal years since you had seen your beloved Donna.
Walking up to the huge red gate, you see the familiar words “Give up your memories” on the plaque. With unsteady hands you place the photo you kept of Donna, Angie and yourself down by the waterfall into the letterbox.
When you eventually arrive up at the Manor, the seconds leading up to the door opening are gruelling. But your jaw drops when you see Donna. After all these years she hasn’t change except for the large scar that covers her right eye.
She instantly falls into your arms and begins sobbing as you hold her close. You place a soothing hand in her hair and whisper to her that it’s all okay, you’re here now.
When her sobs become little sniffles you bring her back to look into her eye, your hands on her face stroking her cheeks and simultaneously wiping away stray tears that fall.
“I’m sorry I left you…”
You bring her in for a gentle and tender kiss, one that is full of sorrow and heartache but is cut short by a screeching sound which you learn is Angie flying down the stairs.
“Now where’s my hug silly?!”
After hugging Angie, who now sits on your shoulder, Donna’s hand interlinks with yours and brings you inside. She shows you all around the house, what’s changed and what hasn’t as well as the new dolls and dresses she’s been making to keep herself busy through your disappearance.
You three end up on the balcony together watching the waterfall on the little wooden bench, Donna curled up to your side and your arm wrapped protectively around her.
Salvatore Moreau
Salvatore was making his way around the docks, checking for maintenance or anything that needed immediate fixing. It was just another ordinary day for him, just another activity for him to keep busy.
“I think you’ll find the oil for the boats need changing.”
Salvatore screams as he’s startled by you coming from behind, having not heard you at all. In the process of it he slips and lands himself in the water.
You lean down and pull him up by the wrist but after he’s out he doesn’t let you go. Sal stares blankly at you for a moment, not believing his eyes before he pulls you to him for a bone crushing and slightly wet hug.
Your shirt is now just as soaked as his but you couldn’t care less as you returned the hug. After five minutes he still doesn’t let you go, chuckling to yourself, you bring him closer to you.
“I missed you too Sal”
His face is mushed into your shoulder, mumbling about how he doesn’t think it’s real but you only remind him that soggy clothes are difficult to imagine.
You spend the rest of the night huddled under warm blankets in an effort to get dry and end up watching a movie before you fall asleep together, all the matters of your disappearance could wait as Sal is just happy to have you back in his life again after so long.
Karl Heisenberg
Karl is standing in the front of his factory, sifting through old bits of scrap metal to begin making a new design on the Soldats when he hears the gate open. There’s only one person who had the key other than himself… but you went missing a long time ago.
Thinking nothing of it, he places a cigar in his mouth to chew on something nervously, an uncomfortable feeling settling in his bones.
“Need a light?”
Karl’s head swivels to see you standing there with a cocky look on your face. His head dips forward till his glasses rest on the bridge of his nose and he nearly chokes on his cigar at the sight of you.
The item falls onto the floor as his jaw falls open, left completely forgotten as he approaches you and takes your hand in his.
“Is it really you?”
You don’t miss the way his voice trembles slightly but you can’t blame him. Karl had been alone almost his whole life before he met you and then he lost you too.
When you nod slowly it’s like a wall is broken and he falls into you, pulling you against him for an embrace.
“I thought I lost you…”
The words are whispered against your neck as he leans in for as much physical contact as he can get. Your hand comes to lace itself in his hair and you rub slow circles on the nape of his neck, weaving in and out of the strands there.
You stand there together for what feels like hours before you finally get to come inside the factory. In the living quarters, you and Karl are wrapped up on the couch together as you tell him all about what happened to you. All of Karl’s work plans are left untouched for an entire week as he refuses to do anything but spend time with you.
#alcina dimitrescu#lady dimitrescu#lady dimitrescu x reader#alcina dimitrescu x reader#karl heisenberg#karl heisenberg x reader#donna beneviento#donna beneviento x reader#salvatore moreau#salvatore moreau x reader#resident evil village#resident evil headcanons#resident evil 8#resident evil#asks#prompt
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Pairing: Dom!CEO!Loki x Reader
Summary: After dropping out of grad school and moving back home you expected very little of your summer. That is until you realise your neighbour, Mr. Laufeyson, has other plans. Set in the mid 90s!
Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!! This is a Dom!Loki fic - though it's not super bd/sm heavy, it explores themes of voyeurism, dub!con spanking, humiliation and degradation. Sexual acts are described including vaginal fingering, dirty talk, oral sex (f receiving) and sexual intercourse (f/m). Smoking is also described. Please read at your own discretion (hehe see what I did there?).
Words: 5,026
Author's Note: I'm excited to say that this is my first ever submission for a challenge! Specifically it's for @boxofbonesfic's Hot Girl Summer Challenge.
I chose prompt 12 (Home for the Summer) and a slightly edited version of quote 17 ("If I have to tell you again to take that off, you’re not gonna like me sweetheart darling.") then for kinks I chose voyeurism/exhibitionism and degradation though there's a sprinkling of praise kink in there too.
Not sure why when I think of summer I think of mid 90s summers but here we are. This kinda went places I didn't expect, nonetheless I hope you enjoy!
...
God you were bored.
Stretching out on the lounge chair you sighed, letting your shoulders droop with the long exhale.
“Oh honey, you can’t keep sitting out here in the sun.” Your eyes rolled behind your dark sunglasses, turning towards your stepmother as she came down the stairs from the deck of the house.
“It’ll give you wrinkles dear,” she was standing beside you now, hands on her hips as she stared down at you. She was wearing that ridiculous hat again- the one with the brim as wide as she was tall.
“Carla, darling, we can’t all hide away from life in hopes to look as good as you do.” You lazily gazed at her, sitting up to find your pack of cigarettes on the side table. Taking one out you brought it to your mouth and lit it with your gold plated zippo. You took a long inhale before exhaling right in her face, “when I tell people you’re 53 they can hardly believe it.” Her eyes widened- you’d found her drivers license months ago and held the knowledge of her true age over her since then. You continued, ”my compliments to your doctors. Oh and Botox, kudos to Botox.”
Her little hands formed fists, fake nails pressing tiny neon-pink crescents into her palm.
You laughed, lounging back in the chair as you leisurely took drags off your cigarette. Smiling to yourself as you counted- three, two, one, before Carla shrieked and turned.
“Arthur! Arthur!” She screeched, running back up the stairs to tell your father.
You were a little less bored now, but making Carla’s face turn red could only give you so much satisfaction. You knew your father could care less, they were both about to leave for the Côte D’Azur tomorrow for the rest of the summer, leaving you here alone to “consider the consequences of your actions.” Or however your father had put you dropping out of school after one year of graduate studies in Classics.
He couldn’t help himself from belittling your degree while you were studying, then once you’d decided it wasn’t for you his lectures changed to be about “never giving up” and “seeing something through.” You both knew he simply didn’t want you around- he just couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud.
“Now those will definitely give you wrinkles,” you heard a smooth, silky voice coming from behind you that made your heart race. Smiling, you swung your legs over the side of your chair, taking off your sunglasses and snuffing out your cigarette.
“Mr. Laufeyson,” you started, eyeing the lithe figure as he emerged from the shadows. He held his hands in his pockets, his crisp black trousers fit perfectly to his frame. The sleeves of his black dress shirt were rolled up to his elbows, exposing the pale skin of his toned forearms. You were well aware of the small scraps of white fabric covering your body, and you enjoyed watching his eyes trace over your skin. You’d lusted after him ever since your father had moved here during your first year of college. You’d met him at one of Carla’s Christmas parties- she invited everyone from the gated community over, including your neighbour, Loki Laufeyson.
“I’m so sorry if my stepmother’s incessant shrieking ruined your afternoon,” you grimaced, taking a sip of the ice cold vodka soda beside you. “Is there anything I can do to remedy the situation?” you asked, your eyes innocently meeting his.
He chuckled. “Oh I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve already thought of something,” he said under his breath loud enough for you to just make out. He strolled towards you and took a seat on the lounge chair beside yours. “I’m actually here to see your Father. He’s asked me to check in on things here while him and Carla are away.”
You rolled your eyes- of course he did. You caught Mr. Laufeyson staring at you as you did that, his expression darkening slightly and his eyebrow raising before he continued. “I am surprised to see you here- last I’d heard you were studying in Europe. Graduate studies in Classics, right?”
“Yeah. It didn’t exactly pan out.” You looked down, cursing yourself for feeling your face grow hot. The last thing you needed was your gorgeous neighbour feeling sorry for you.
“Laufeyson you bastard, you’re late!” Your Father was coming down the stairs, jovial with his greeting.
Loki got up from his seat to meet your father. “Arthur,” he said, shaking his hand. “My apologies, I got held up at the office. It’s been insanity since the new acquisition.”
You tuned out the rest of the business jargon and settled back into your seat, facing the other way. You put your sunglasses back on, wincing once your heard Carla’s shrill voice coming from above.
“Is that Loki Laufeyson? Oh it’s been ages!” she gushed.
“I suppose it has.” You could tell she’d pulled him in for a hug and a kiss on either cheek. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself at the clear discomfort in his voice.
“So I can trust you to keep an eye on the place?” your father chimed in.
“Certainly, although it seems your daughter is perfectly capable of doing so herself.” Mr. Laufeyson rightfully pointed out. You raised an eyebrow, wishing you could see the expression on your dear dad’s face from your position. Mr. Laufeyson was probably the only person in this community that could and would tell your Father that- his annual appearance in Forbes certainly cemented the position.
“You never know with kids, Laufeyson. No matter how old they get you can’t trust them to carry through with something. Just wait until you have one of your own- then you’ll know what I’m talking about." He laughed loudly. You scoffed. Fucking asshole.
“I see. I’ll keep an eye out then.” Mr. Laufeyson said cooly.
“Right well feel free to pop by anytime, we leave tomorrow morning. Here’s the number of my cellular telephone- I always have it on me you know.” Your father was obsessed with his clunky mass of plastic- he brought it everywhere he went, mostly to brag about it to strangers or talk obnoxiously on it to avoid conversations with you or Carla.
“He really does. Even in the bedroom!” Carla giggled, causing you to shudder in disgust.
“Of course, well I should be on my way.” He stepped back over to you. “I suppose I’ll be seeing you around. Here’s my information,” he placed a thick, black and white business card onto the small table beside you. “In case of emergency.”
You pulled your sunglasses down your nose and slid your eyes up his body, biting your lip as you met his stare. “I’ll be sure to remember. See you around, Mr. Laufeyson.”
He considered you for a moment and you thought he was about to say something else before he nodded and turned, heading for the gate.
You settled back in your seat and nestled the headphones of your discman over your ears. You pressed the play button, the beat of Mariah Carey’s “Fantasy” drowning out whatever Carla and your father were arguing about once their guest had left.
...
It was much later that evening that you finally slipped from your room to find some dinner. The house was dark- you knew your father and Carla had an early flight. Grabbing a wrapped plate from the fridge that the housekeeper had left you you headed to the back deck to eat. You kept the lights off as you watched the dim foamy white of the ocean’s waves hitting the rocks below, finding peace in the sound.
Finishing your meal you were about to head inside when you saw a light come on out of the corner of your eye. From where you were sitting you could see into a room on the top floor of Mr. Laufeyson’s house. Interesting- you’d never seen into this room before, the windows that faced your father’s house were usually shuttered. You laid back and lit a cigarette, choking on the inhale when you saw Mr. Laufeyson emerge, shirtless, his eyes dark and hungry. He was pulling a woman behind him, a blonde, her shirt unbuttoned to expose a lacy red bra. Once he stood at the edge of the bed he turned around to kiss her, his hands moving to the clasp of her bra. Undoing it, he pulled away to slide it down her arms before turning her around and unzipping her skirt, leaving her in just a high waisted red lace thong.
Your heart was hammering in your chest. You were transfixed by the scene unfolding in front of you. He flung her on the bed- from your position you could see it all as if it were happening in a room adjacent to yours. Climbing over her he dipped his head to capture her lips once more as he ground against her. Your legs clenched together as you continued to smoke your cigarette, the combined effect of the nicotine and the scene in front of you making your head spin.
His hand trailed down to the red lace covering her heat as he continued to kiss and grind against her. Slipping his fingers in you found you were doing the same to yourself, feeling the hot wet of your arousal. He had pulled away from her now, watching her face intently as her back arched up off of the mattress, her hands clutching his toned arms. He was saying something to her, his eyes going from her face to her heaving breasts as he continued to work his hand inside of her. A flush was blooming on her chest, her mouth open and her eyebrows drawn together. You were moving your hand in time with his, your arousal coating your fingers. His movements became faster as he continued to speak to her, smiling menacingly before her back arched fully off the bed, her hands grasping at him. Withdrawing from the dampened red lace his fingers glistened in the light, wet from her release.
He easily picked her up off the bed, carrying her to the window sill. He roughly pulled her panties down before he undid his trousers then lined himself up at her entrance. He pressed into her, her back flat against the glass and his face visible beside the back of her head, his eyes closed. You imagined how it’d feel, the cool glass against your back, his warm hand firmly gripping your thigh, his strong arms holding your legs open as he fucked you. He began to move inside of her then his eyes opened, staring straight at you in the darkness. Your heart beat faster as you felt yourself blush- surely he couldn’t see you out here, you were shrouded in the dark. You could barely see the outline of your hand as you brought it to your face for another puff. You froze- the cigarette.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you hissed, quickly removing your hand from its position and shakily putting out the cigarette on your dinner plate. Sliding your chair out quietly you chanced one last look towards the window- he was smirking in your direction as he continued to move against the blonde. Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest as you backed away towards the porch door. You could swear his eyes didn’t leave you once and it sent shudders through you. You made your way back to your room and lay awake for hours, each time you closed your eyes you saw his piercing blue-green stare and filthy smirk.
You must have drifted off at some point since you eventually awoke to silence- an anomaly. You’d usually wake to Carla’s screeching laugh as she spoke on the phone to her friends, or she’d send the housekeeper Marie to wake you. You checked the clock beside you- 9AM. Carla and your father were long gone by now.
You smiled at that, stretching lazily before cranking the radio and dancing around your room as you got ready, the sunlight beaming in through your window. Making your way to the main kitchen you froze, last night coming back to you. The way Mr. Laufeyson had looked out at you as if he were expecting you to be there. Did he leave the blinds open on purpose? You shook your head, no way he’d be that forward. Sure he flirted with you every now and then, but nothing beyond that. You pushed the thought from your mind for the rest of the day.
...
A week passed quickly, you spent a lot of time with your friends, going shopping, to the beach, or local restaurants. You didn’t spend much time around the house so you hadn’t seen Mr. Laufeyson since the “incident”. On Friday you met up with some friends midday and got a ride to one of their parents’ beach houses. You spent the day there, drinking and laughing as you enjoyed the sun. Your friends dropped you back off at your place at around 7pm, you were pleasantly buzzed but looking forward to a quiet night in.
It was so hot outside you decided to take a dip in the pool. Cranking the radio in the backyard you decided to skinny dip- no one was home anyways. You sighed as your heated skin met the water, cooling instantly. You did a few laps before lazily swimming a backstroke and humming the music on the radio when you saw something coming towards you out of the corner of your eye. Standing upright you saw Mr. Laufeyson walking towards you from the door to the backyard, a smirk playing at his lips. Your heart started beating quickly as you realised the position you were in, remembering his hungry stare from last week. You swam over to the side of the pool to meet him.
“Hi,” he smiled, looking down at you.
You bit your lip and innocently looked up at him. “Hello, Mr. Laufeyson.”
“I’m sorry to intrude.”
“No worries. Is there anything I can do for you, Mr. Laufeyson?” you asked, noticing his eyes taking in your body under the water. He definitely knew you were naked. Your thighs clenched together at the thought.
“I was coming to see you about something that happened last week that had me… concerned. I thought I saw someone out on the balcony, late at night. Was that you?”
You felt your cheeks grow hot, your heartbeat picking up to a mile a minute. “What day was this?”
“Last week Friday.” His face was serious as he strolled over to a pool chair, pulling it closer to the side and taking a seat.
“I’m not sure. I don’t think anyone was out there then.” The words came out a lot quicker than you’d meant. You were usually pretty good at lying but something in his voice made you want to tell him the truth, to please him.
He tsked. “I’ve seen you lie better than that. Try again darling.” He sounded bored as he reached for your pack of cigarettes on the side table. He raised an eyebrow in question as he drew out a cigarette. You nodded, nervously biting your lip as he lit it and crossed his legs, leisurely smoking while he stared you down.
“No words, little one?” he teased, smirking down at you. “Did you at least enjoy the show?”
You huffed- this was humiliating. How dare he? You found anger quickly overtaking your initial shock and embarrassment as you made your way to the pool stairs and got out. You raised an eyebrow at him and smiled when the smirk slid off his face at the sight of your naked, wet body. Two can play this game. Walking over to him you grabbed a towel off the chair and wrapped it around yourself.
“I don’t know what you’re trying to imply here,” you grabbed the cigarette from between his long, muscular fingers and took a long drag. “But I didn’t see you last Friday night. And I definitely didn’t see you fucking that blonde-” your eyes widened at your own confession.
He stood to his full height and stepped closer to you, looking down at you once more. You backed up a step, feeling the lounge chair behind you.
“Drop the towel,” he growled, the hungry look in his eyes fully directed at you this time.
“Listen-“ you started to explain yourself.
“Drop. The. Towel.” He enunciated each word with his crisp accent and perfect voice.
“I knew it- I knew you wanted to fuck me.” You smirked at him triumphantly as you took another drag.
“If I have to tell you again to take that off, you’re not gonna like me darling,” he threatened, stepping closer.
“Oh really?” You laughed, taunting him. “And what are you going to do, Mr. Laufeyson?” You blinked innocently at him, enjoying the way the muscles in his jaw clenched.
Suddenly he grabbed your jaw, firmly but not painfully as he brought his face inches from yours, your eyes locked.
“You fucking brat.” He roughly pulled the towel down, exposing your body to the warm air. He pinched the cigarette from your fingers, extinguishing it under his shoe on the concrete. “I’m going to have to teach you some manners, aren’t I?”
Before you could answer he spun you both around and sat on the lounge chair then pulled you over his lap, angling you so your top half rested on the chair, your hips over his. One hand firmly held your lower back in place, the other smoothed over the skin of your ass and you squirmed. His hand came down to spank you, hard. “First lesson- don’t fucking move until I tell you to.” You whined, your face burning.
His hand came down again in the same spot, causing you to hiss and grip the plastic of the chair in one hand and his thigh in the other. “Second lesson- always answer me.”
You were humiliated but you found yourself growing even more wet with each spank. First there was the pain, then a wave of pleasure that intensified when he smoothed his hand over the skin he’d hit.
He gave you another slap, “what did I just say?” He growled, his hand roughly gripping the skin this time.
“T-to always answer you.” Your voice was small as you stuttered, overwhelmed by the way he was making you feel.
“Good girl.” You'd felt a tiny swell of pride at that. “I’m going to spank you three more times. Count them for me.”
“Okay,” you nodded, worried if you didn’t answer he’d add more to the list. His hand came down on your other cheek, hard and fast.
“One,” you counted, taking a deep breath. Before you could forcibly relax your tense muscles his hand had struck your cheek once more, causing you to hiss.
Your finger tips were pressing into his thigh as you let out a breath, the sharp pain receding. “Two,” you licked your lips and tensed in anticipation of the third and final slap.
After a few seconds you relaxed then turned to catch his eye- he was darkly observing you with his jaw clenched. Suddenly he hit the skin once more, this time the hardest, causing you to cry out.
You composed yourself with a quick breath. “Three.”
“Well done, darling.” He was gently running over the sore skin with his large hands. You could feel his erection under you.
“I wish you could see how lovely you looked on my lap, taking your spanking so well.” He dipped his hand between your legs. You sucked in a breath when you felt his fingers brush along your wet slit causing you to writhe on his lap.
“My poor, little thing. You’re dripping,” his voice was pure sin as he brought his glistening fingers up to your face.
He shifted, his strong grip helping you off his lap so you stood before him on shaky legs. You bit your lip, face growing hot as suddenly became fascinated with your fingers, twisting them painfully.
He stood then, and brought his finger under your chin to guide your eyes to his. He wore a satisfied expression, a slight grin at his lips as he took in your naked form.
“Do you think you’ve learnt your lesson darling?” He asked, his eyes mocking yours.
You quickly nodded, feeling fully exposed in front of his fully clothed form.
He licked his lips. “Do you want to go upstairs so I can fuck you?”
Your cheeks burnt as you nodded quickly again.
“Answer me darling,” he dropped his hand from your chin.
“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson.”
A slow, filthy grin spread across his face. “Lead the way,” he motioned towards the stairs.
You bent to reach for your towel on the ground. “Ah, ah, no need for that darling.” His words stopped you. You shivered as you stood back up, another wave of heat pulsing through your core.
You tentatively walked up the steep stairs and he followed closely behind. You could feel his gaze on you with each step.
Once up on the patio you looked back at him, his eyes dark with hunger. You gave him a shy smile before leading him inside. You stopped- should you bring him to your bedroom?
Before you could finish your thought he slid up behind you, his hands coming to grip your waist. “Where shall I take you, darling?” He whispered in your ear, his breath making you shiver.
He let go of your waist to circle you, stopping before you. “Do you want me to ruin you on that god awful couch?” He looked over his shoulder to the gaudy floral couch Carla had ordered special from Italy. She wouldn’t let anyone who wasn’t company sit on it in fear of stains.
You smiled at the idea of ruining the couch with Mr. Laufeyson, knowing Carla would lose her mind- even more so if she found out how it got there. “Yes please.”
He pulled you towards it then gently guided you to sit at the edge of it, angling you so you were in one corner. His hands splayed over the skin of your legs, gently pushing them apart. The feeling of the cool air of the house on your slit gave you goosebumps.
He kept his eyes locked with yours as he knelt between your legs before he turned to press a kiss to your thigh close to your knee. He then bit the skin there, earning a sharp inhale from you before he soothed it with his warm tongue.
“Tell me, darling. Did you touch yourself? Did you play with yourself as you watched me?” His velvety voice sent an involuntary shudder through you, his eyes capturing yours.
He nipped at your thigh with his teeth, marring the skin. You yelped then swallowed. “Yes! Yes, I did.”
“Good girl.” He moved to repeat his actions further up the inside of your thigh while he gently ran his fingers up and down your other thigh.
You were trembling while you watched him, each bite a little harder than the last as he got closer to your wet core. His eyes met yours once more then he blew a stream of cold air over your slit, causing you to gasp sharply. He smirked before letting his lips barely graze over your clit, your hips moving slightly before he brought his arm down over them to hold you in place.
He ever so gently pressed a kiss to your clit before gently running his tongue over the sensitive flesh, pulling a moan from you. You could feel your wetness dripping down onto the couch below as he continued to delicately tease you.
“You taste divine, darling. Better than I’d imagined.” You whined at his words- the idea of him alone, picturing what your cunt tasted like brought you to the edge of an orgasm.
He smiled wickedly up at you. “So close already? Poor thing.” Bringing one long finger to your slit he gathered some wetness before pushing it fully within you, forcing a loud moan through your lips.
“It’s okay darling, let go. Give into me. I promise it’ll make you feel so much better,” he hummed against your clit before tenderly sucking on it. He bent his finger within you, hitting something deep that made you cry out. You quickly came, your release squirting around his finger and wetting the couch below.
He kept up his movements as you rode out your high. Once your breath returned to you he pulled away and removed his finger, licking his lips as he wiped your release off his chin.
“Third lesson- good girls always get to cum.” He winked at you with a grin before standing.
He leaned over you, caging you in on the couch before capturing your lips with his. You hummed at the taste of yourself on him, his tongue gliding against yours.
He straightened back up then pulled you up off the couch and guided you to face the other way. He led you so your knees were on the couch, your arms resting against the back of the upholstery. You heard the sound of a zipper before feeling the tip of his hard length slide against your folds. You instinctively arched your back at the feeling, pressing yourself up against him, causing him to groan.
“Such a greedy little brat,” he said, smoothing his hands over the skin of your ass. “You want me to fuck that pretty little cunt, hm?”
“Yes- yes please, Mr. Laufeyson. Please fuck me,” you begged, rubbing yourself on him once more.
With that he thrust into you, holding himself still once he was fully seated within you, giving you a chance to adjust. You’d gasped at the sensation- he was clearly well-endowed and you were thankful he gave you a moment. Willing your muscles to relax you looked back at him before grinding your hips against his.
His eyes were dark with lust, his jaw clenched in a way that made you involuntarily squeeze him as he started to move within you. You were panting as he set a pace, the angle of his thrusts hitting the same spot he’d found quickly before.
You’d turned back around and folded your forearms over the back of the couch, arching yourself against him even more. He growled and picked up his pace, his hand firmly gripping your hip. The angle had you moaning desperately, the feeling of him so deep within you making your fingers and toes numb.
“That’s it darling, take my cock within your needy little cunt. Fuck- I’ve wanted to ruin this tight little pussy for so long. I’ve wanted you for so long,” he rasped out between thrusts and your mind went blank, all you could respond with were desperate moans.
He stopped abruptly and pulled you up before sitting himself on the couch and pulling you over his lap so you were straddling him. He’d unbuttoned his shirt and your mouth went dry at the sight of the musculature under his pale skin. You slid your fingers under the fabric, gripping his firm shoulders as he positioned himself under you.
You moved your hips in a circle over him, enjoying the feel of the very tip of him swirling within you.
“You little tease,” he grinned darkly, running a hand through his hair. “Ride me, darling. Show me what you can do.”
Your cunt clenched at his words and his wicked smirk spread. You took the opportunity to bring yourself down to grind against him, wiping the smug look off his face.
You quickly set a pace as you rode him, his hands on your ass guiding your movements. You were panting as you continued your movements, the angle bringing you close to your finish.
“Are you going to cum, darling?” His voice vibrated through you, and you nodded.
“Yes- fuck, Mr. Laufeyson. You feel so good-“ he continued to guide your movements, moving his head closer to your breast. He brought his mouth around one of your nipples, gently sucking at the nub. You arched into him, moaning at the sensation.
His tongue ran against your skin in his mouth, bringing another moan from you before he sharply bit down on your nipple, pushing you over the edge into another orgasm. You moaned his name over and over as you rode out your high, your nails digging into the skin of his shoulder. As you came back to yourself you felt him twitch within you, filling you as he reached his own finish.
You watched him as he came, mesmerised with his blissful expression, his long eyelashes touching defined cheekbones. His eyes fluttered back open and he gave you a smirk- god help you he was fucking gorgeous.
He gave you a chaste kiss before helping you up, the combined fluids from your finish trickling down your thigh. You were happy to see some hit the couch as you moved off him.
You strolled to the bathroom to clean yourself up and throw on a t-shirt and panties, passing a damp cloth to him once you returned. You pulled a cigarette from the pack you had on the kitchen counter, then headed to the balcony as you lit it up.
You were leaning on the balcony, watching the now dark waves when he joined you. You smiled at him, offering him your cigarette. He took a long drag as you leant on the balcony’s edge.
“So,” you trailed off, not sure what to say.
“That was fun,” he exhaled then smiled at you, his expression mischievous.
“Yeah,” you agreed, relief filling your chest. “I’d love to do it again.”
“Of course darling, we have all summer.” He came behind you, pulling you against his chest as he ducked his head so his lips were beside your ear. ”And you have quite a bit to learn.”
End Notes: Want to read more Loki fics of mine? My masterlist is here.
#loki mcu#dom!loki x you#dom!loki x you smut#dom!loki x sub!reader#dom!loki x reader#ceo!loki#loki x you smut#loki x reader smut#loki x you#loki x reader#loki#loki laufeyson#loki smut#tom hiddleston#tom hiddleston loki#loki fic
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Xiao and Diluc: Opposites Attract HCs
Minor spoilers for Xiao’s and Diluc’s backstory.
Yes, more xiao content. Oh and Diluc. Diluc is there too. I wonder who my favourite child is? Honestly, it’s probably Childe. Every time I write “child” I end up misspelling it to “childe”. It’s consumed me. But yes anon I love the opposites attract trope. It’s so nice having person A be this cute cinnamon roll and person B is the ew don’t touch me go away I hate you, just mwah 💕
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Today’s appreciation post goes to imlikemoony. My entire reblog notifications have just been you and thanks for the spam haha. I love seeing new people go through my work and enjoy it so thank you^^ Please don’t feel like this is a callout post I swear it isn’t 💕💕
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Xiao Semi Series
[ Friendship ] [ Falling in Love ] [ Cuddles ] [ Protective ] [ Affection ] [ Jealously ]
Diluc HCs
[ Comfort HCs ] [ Relationship HCs ] [ Being Fathers HCs ] [ Jealously HCs ] [ Unrequited Love HCs ] [ String of Fate [Soulmate] ] [ Fainting ]
[Masterlist]
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[taglist] <- if you want to be added, please read this first.
@hanniejji @mikeysbike @unionwitch @musekala @twistedsunnshiii @stanzastic @akaasea @xoneaboveallx @adoring-ghost @asheseiler @childelover @dilucsz @dai-tsukki-desu @youaskedfurret @snowy224 @mayumintsu @tigerpriestess @yuu-yuukurotsuki @legionqueensav
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Xiao and Diluc: Opposites Attract HCs
Xiao
It occurs to Xiao one day that despite being alive for centuries, he doesn’t know a lot of people. Xiao has only known Rex Lapis and his fellow adepti and only just recently introduced this life to others such as Verr and Ming. It never bothered him and still doesn’t, he prefers his life to be peaceful and in solitude since it’s safer that way, but when you crash into his life with all your unrestrained energy. He’s a bit of a loss for words. The only other person he knows that acts similar is Guizhong, but it’s still a bit of a troubling memory but either then that, he’s never interacted with someone so...open with their feelings. Though he supposes that Hu Tao was somewhat similar but in a different way. Unlike the craziness and exasperated actions that Hu Tao brought, your presence was a breath of fresh air and sometimes he found himself caught up in your antics.
When Xiao thinks about it, if he were to ever find love he suspected he would prefer someone who was calm and independent. He wasn’t the most affectionate so he wouldn’t want a partner that relied on that and he liked the peace and quiet the inn provided. That was until he saved you one day and you felt it was your absolute responsibility to return the favour, even though he told you many times that you really did not need to. If you wanted to return the favour you could leave him alone. Simple as that. Which didn’t work and in hindsight he was glad you were so stubborn to hang around until you managed to find out his favourite food was almond tofu.
The moment that set in stone Xiao’s love for you is when he told you his past. When he was named Atalus. How he had been possessed and forced to kill against his will. How he devoured dreams and lived in agony before he was saved by Rex Lapis. He was scared that you would fear and leave him, only for you to slowly lace your hands with his and wept for his own misfortune. He’s never had someone cry for him and he realized that he never wanted to see you upset like this again.
At first your larger than life personality put him off a bit, how could someone run through life as if nothing was wrong? What would happen if you finally faced loss? Wouldn’t that make things worse? It wasn’t until he spent more time with you that he saw your point of view, that while he couldn’t adopt the same idea, he respected it and began to appreciate it. It was nice having some sort of solace in his day even if it was just for a few minutes. Something to get his mind of the darker things while you start chatting about this really nice old lady with a domain sized teapot.
Though, there was a bit of a downside to this. Since you bared your heart on your sleeve, perhaps in Mondstadt it would seem normal but here in Liyue, everyone hid behind some kind of mask so people found you a bit naïve and would try and hassle you. It always sent Xiao into a worried state when you left the inn to go out on your next adventure. Verr likes to compare him to a cat waiting for it’s owner at the door, but as soon as they return he acts so moody as if he wasn’t waiting at the balcony trying to see if he could see your clothing peak over the hill. He has no idea how she comes up with these ridiculous ideas.
Another “downside” Xiao discovers is that you have mini bursts of affection. You describe it as a those anemo slimes that pop when you shoot them, morbid as that description is, you’re not wrong. Your bursts of affection always manage to startle and embarrass Xiao, especially when he was with others. He wasn’t going to tell you to change yourself, never will he do that, but when you clasp his hands and tell him with all your love and shining eyes that he’s “doing such a good job” and “you’re so proud of him”. He wants to melt because wow, he never noticed how much he values your praise and how it sends his heart flying. But he can’t because Childe and Zhongli are right there.
Zhongli smiles pleasantly while Childe looses his absolute shit, which causes Xiao to kick his spear at Childe because he refuses to let go of your hands and hisses at him. Even when you try and scold him it doesn’t last long because this has become a weekly occurrence. Only now Xiao will give you a quick kiss before he goes off to gut Childe while you and Zhongli wave pleasantly and talk about how the weather is faring. Everyone that isn’t a native to Liyue think’s you’re all insane as they hear Childe’s screams as Xiao attempts first degree murder.
It interesting to see you both interact to outsiders. Xiao has his piercing yellow eyes and reserved demeanor while you’re this sweet and bright person. Before Xiao met you, people could never get a good look at the mysterious man that stays in the top balcony of the Wangshu Inn. But now if they came at the right time, they could spot a soft smiled man in green listening to a very animated talk with someone else, using their hands with a dramatic flair. That is until the man notices them trying to eavesdrop and the softness in his eyes drops and goes to irritation as he glares at them, curling a hand around his partner’s waist, and he let’s off a warning growl. His partner never seems bothered, only turning around to give a small wave in greeting, smiling as if the dangerous aura radiating behind them didn’t exist, before giving the man a small kiss as they go back to their conversation.
While you live a larger than life way, you also enjoy the small moments with Xiao. Xiao prefers to spend his time sitting above the inn and overlooking Liyue which you enjoy too. Resting near each other as you watch the sun go down is calming and takes the stress of life away. But sometimes you just want to bring Xiao out and have some fun.
Which ends up with you dragging him off to the pond near the Wangshuu inn, you wanted to catch frogs for whatever reason. Weren’t you both a bit too old to be playing with frogs? But he stands by and watch's you chase around the poor animals, tracking mud all over your clothing and skin, he can’t help but let a small smile slip. It isn’t until you end up falling into the pond after slipping that he’s on alert mode that he runs over worried.
Only for you to pop up and start bursting out into laughter. Xiao is stunned for a few moment as he watches you laugh at your own mistake, mud scrapped all over your face and clothes, the fact that you’re still in the pond with a frog on your head. He can’t help but feel his face fall as his mouth twitches into a smile as he chuckles along with you. He reaches over to try and scrub the dirt off your face but it only ends up smearing it more but you appreciate the effort. He carefully lifts you up as he carries you back to the inn. He thinks back to when you both first met, how he spent so much time worrying over his life as an adeptis and you as a human, but now those thoughts have been flung out of his mind. He wants to take your approach, that why worry over the little details of the future when you can enjoy the bigger moments you have now.
Diluc
On days that Diluc works as the bartender for Angel Share, if you come at just the right time when the sun was still high in the sky, you might be able to catch the ever distant man smiling and engaged with a conversation with one specific patron. Of course, this silly “rumour” was made up by the ladies of Mondstadt with too much free time on their hands but given Diluc’s reputation and demeanor it did make some travelers curious. Only for them to write it off as this special patron to be a green bard or cunning captain. One that Diluc surely did not crack a smile at. In fact it seemed to be the opposite. But the tavern isn’t so bad, there’s this nice individual that will listen to all your sorrows with kind eyes and a gentle heart.
As soon as the last customer leaves and Diluc locks the door, does he let his shoulder drop and he breathes a sigh of relief. Before turning and walking to you as he let’s himself relax in your embrace. He listens as you re-tell on the woes of a jewelry saleswoman from Liyue to how Venti is still getting ID checked at the Cat’s Tail as he basks in your warmth. He’s glad that this is what’s troubling the people of Mondstadt and not anything incredibly dangerous relating to the Fatui or the Abyss Order. He asks if you’re doing alright to which you grin and nod that everything was perfect, before placing a small kiss on your forehead and he leads you out back and into the night and ready to return home.
Kaeya finds a lot of enjoyment going to up to you and discussing his “concerns” about Diluc. It always leads to you fretting over his health and if he was working too hard and he should take a break. Diluc is whipped and cannot say no to you so he always begrudgingly let’s you lead him away as Kaeya smiles and waves him off. It’s gotten to the point that no matter what Diluc is in the middle of, unless it’s of the upmost importance, if he catches Kaeya anywhere near you he’s swooping in and leading you away.
Diluc has always been straight to the point, non-nonsense idle talk, but when you drag him away to simply lie down at Starsnatch Cliff just because you were worried about him, he can’t help but feel his heart warm. Watching you blow on dandelions and enjoy the peaceful winds of Mondstadt does he let his hectic life standstill.
When Diluc first met you, it was during his three year long journey to discover the truth of his father and the Delusions. You had saved him during his escape from a Fatui stronghold and explained you were apart of a third-party observer from the North. A vast underground intelligence network that approved of his actions and wanted him to join. Diluc, still deep in his anger and untrustworthy state of anyone, declined the offer but you still hanged around him. He didn’t understand why, and frankly did not want you anywhere near him, but you did save him. Something you very much liked to bring up, even after returning to Mondstadt. He couldn’t necessarily push you away and despite leaving the Knights of Favonius, he still maintained the same chivalry that all knights had.
From then on it had just been the two of you, him looking for the next Fatui base while you travelled with him as an “observer” despite helping him and being overly chatty. Asking where the next destination is like you’re some sort of overeager kid. At first, he really disliked your presence. A lot. In his mind you were a second Kaeya and after the events of what had happened, he might have been far colder to you than he should have been. He thought you were hiding behind the same kind of mask Kaeya did and that you were secretly some Fatui agent sent to kill him. But that never seemed to deter you, even making fun of the idea that the Fatui would seriously try and send an agent to con him rather than try and kill him outright with all the information he had on them.
You both had your clashes when it came to certain things, especially when it came to taking breaks and sightseeing. He felt that you were way too relaxed for something so important and you felt he was way to uptight and needed to stop running through life. But overtime, he found that he actually somewhat enjoyed your personality and quirks. While you could kick a Fatui’s guard head off if you tried hard enough, you would also drag him to feed the ducks by a pond. He had come to learn that you and Kaeya were different, you didn’t wear a mask and bared your heart to the world. He thought you were a bit foolish for doing that since you can never really trust anyone but you instead offered that not everyone was a bad person, that if he spent every waking moment trying to backstab someone would that really be a life worth living?
It’s during the lantern festival in Liyue does he really come to understand his goals in life. Writing down wishes for the new year to send off in paper lanterns is when he acknowledges his shortcomings and finally agrees to join the underground intelligence network. You offer him a bright grin as you cheer that he finally finally got off his stubborn self and you’re now officially partners in not-really-but-still-technically crime. For the first time since Diluc started his journey, he gives a small smile and let’s himself relax as he watched the golden lanterns fly through the sky beside you.
When he decides it’s time to return to Mondstadt and take up his position as Diluc Ragnvindr, he tries to not so subtly ask if you would want to join him. He knows that you still have ties to that secret organization and you probably have your own agenda but Diluc has gotten used to your bubbly personality, he doesn’t want to live without you. But his worries are quickly squashed when you tease him for a bit but slip your hand in his and ask where the next destination is.
---
Gripping my writing hand, I went overboard and ran with it. I really want to write pre-hcs of how you met Xiao and a continuation of young Diluc and you. But I must finish my inbox. Also my joke of Xiao beating things into submission started all the way back to my first Xiao HCs of friendship. I did not know this lol. I just think it’s funny to imagine xiao doing it. I’m about to high five my past self.
By the way, should I break up my hcs more? I feel like they are actual paragraphs and that might be annoying to read.
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