Past Pleasures

She had been beautiful.

No, more than that.

She had been a work of art, and he had found exquisite pleasure in that. In simply observing her as she went about her day, performing her duties as the living decoration owned by a man who was, quite simply, too gross, too roughly hewn to suit her.

He had always liked Kurzicks. Found the facial structure and delicacy of the bloodline to be aesthetically appealing. And she was everything he had most admired about them, embodied.

Always draped in fine fabrics and adorned in suitable jewels, she had to be a work of art to stand by the man that owned her as he performed the rites that he swore would bring the Unseen Ones back to prominence.

The rituals had bored him, and as he found less of use in the cult, he had found more use for her.

And he knew she favored him. It was impossible to mistake how her eyes had strayed towards him from her position at the man’s side, how her gaze followed him when he went about the few duties that he didn’t delgate to those beneath him.

It had amused him greatly, luring her into betraying the man who she had once claimed had saved her life. Had saved her from being slaughtered, brutalized, misused.

Under his attentions, she had changed her tune, and when she had come to him, blood-stained and pale, trembling from having committed the ultimate betrayal, he had smiled. Taken her in his arms and treated her gently, soothed her terror with a few carefully chosen words.

She had willingly let him into the inner sanctum then. Had helped him select the antiquities that caught his eye and stripped her wardrobe of the jeweled pieces that he found best to his taste.

Oh, she had been the embodiment of beauty, and he had greatly enjoyed the hope in her wide, violet eyes when he had told her to pack hastily, to prepare to flee. They would leave the cult and go into hiding, together. He would care for her, and she would never have to consider herself an object, a belonging ever again.

And it had been the sweetest of delights, seeing the confusion on her face when he led them into the room where the man still lay, bloated and bloodless. Where she, guilt written all over her delicately sculpted face, had stood, packing her clothing in great haste.

It was a pleasure never to be forgotten, the way her emotions had moved so swiftly through her eyes. From confusion to shock, from shock to horror, from horror to agony, and she had held his gaze as they had dragged her away. Cried his name when they threw her at the base of the altar, and it had been the last word on her broken lips when the final stone fell.

He didn’t think of her often, but the desire to find a Kurzick that matched her in beauty rose anew, now and then. And he kept an eye out for one, knowing that the pleasure in breaking her would be as superb.

fleur delacour falling in love with bill weasley because he sees her. his youngest brother looked and went hair-eyes-teeth-legs, thought body, thought sex. her whole life, men have been looking and seeing a thing, not a girl. since she turned thirteen and bud-breasts pressed up against her shirts and boys at school wanted to sit close, men back home lingered too long in hugs.

until she was fifteen she dressed herself in shame before she put any clothes on at all. wore everything a few sizes too big, a few inches too long. draped herself in thick fabrics to hide the body beneath them. never learned that hot eyes on her were the fault of their owners, not her. took the uncomfortable stares and the endless flirtation as a fact of life. was fourteen the first time she dared to say “stop looking!” and met only laughter.

it’s not until she’s nearly sixteen and her sister is turning ten that she sees eyes begin to slide over her and to gabrielle. a friend of their father’s, not even that deep into a bottle of wine, caresses a child-round cheek and murmurs a line from lolita, eyes too bright and lips too dry. gabrielle flickers a panicked glance around the room. that look is so familiar. the same hour fleur switches her baggy sweatshirt for a crop top and rolls her skirt over two inches. 

they will look at her. never at her sister.

Keep reading

nap dates together.

you live together, but hey, why not take out the fresh sheets and the nice pillowcases from the linens closet. spritz them with lavender fabric freshener. drape the curtains to hide away the afternoon sun.

change into soft silky pyjamas or the old lazy t-shirts and comfy undies. slide under the cool blankets that rest on warm skin. rest heads against chests and match heartbeats to breaths. butterfly flutter drooped eyelids brushed by chapstick kisses.

IKEA Norway answer Jonas

Hahaha this IS NOT A SKAM UPDATE, but I just have to translate this anyway.

Yesterday Jonas told Isak: “I wonder where IKEA get all their names for the furniture from. Like do they open a Swedish name register and just grab some?”

And IKEA Norway’s Instagram just answered:

No shame in asking, Jonas, and many people are wondering about that. It has changed somewhat during the years, but in the beginning it was Ingvar Kamprad’s cousin who named all our products. Chairs and bookshelves got boy’s names like for example TOBIAS and BILLY. Fabrics and drapes/curtains got girl’s names, while beds and wardrobes got names from places in Norway, like BEKKESTUA and TRYSIL. Whoever came up with the name FITTJA* for a fabric cleaning spray, however, we do not know. Have fun at the pre-drinks party on Friday!
With regards,

I’m seriously laughing. *FITTJA is one letter (J) away from literally spelling CUNT, or..THE CUNT (fitta). IKEA Norway being savage af.

*laughing forever*

Right, here we go with my brand new series of tutorials, entitled How to THINK When you DRAW. I’m going to hit a massive range of subjects, techniques and approaches in this series, so there should be something for everyone, no matter what your interests or ability level.

Oh, and if you have any area of drawing that you’d particularly like to see a tutorial for, TWEET US HERE with your REQUESTS, and I’ll do my best to tackle them for you :)

The first two tutorials are looking at how to draw draping or hanging fabric and creases, enjoy!


Merry Christmas @its-a-me-mary!! I was your secret santa for @homestuck-secret-santa this year <3

You said you liked college au’s, so here’s some collegestuck!rosemary <3 Kanaya is the instructor for the fashion course and Rose is a hapless arts student whose found herself a very chic crush :D


chuck: but like…do u like it

gabriel:  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

little thing i posted to twitter last night!! which is why my handle is still on it lol

i’m supposed to be working on gng storyline stuff but how can i when cool jib photos i can do studies of have been released!?

Dinner disaster, or not so much

Sherlock x reader

requested by @saranasai:  Hey there :) I didn’t find your ask box but I would like to request a sherlock one shot, if you still do some? :) No. 6. and 26. as a Sherlock x reader would be wonderful. Maybe something with a light panic attack of the reader, if you’re comfortable with this. If not, you can come up with everything you want :)

request through messages :)

warnings: slight panic attack

word count: 826

part 2??

You looked at yourself in the mirror. Makeup was applied perfectly, and your hair was tied in an elegant updo. Long dangling earrings framed your face along with a few curled strands of hair. The dress you were wearing was gorgeous. It was a black short dress, with a low V-neck and draped fabric under the golden belt placed in the middle, black stilettos finishing the look. You admired yourself, you rarely dressed like this as not many “happy” occasions come up when you lived with Sherlock Holmes.

And this was no different. Sherlock needed to go to a fancy restaurant as the drug dealer he was trying to hunt down was apparently going to be there and he needed a date. Of course, because of his lack of female friends, you were almost automatically included in his plan. But you didn’t mind, after all, who can refuse to have dinner with the smart, handsome detective?

You grabbed a golden purse to match your belt and earrings and headed out of your - John’s old - bedroom. Your heels tapped on the wooden stairs announcing your entrance. Almost instantly, Sherlock’s head snapped up, waiting for the reveal behind the tapping.

“Wow… You look… Wow,” he said, absentmindedly. Quickly, he covered it up by clearing his throat.

“Thank you, Sherlock,” you said with a light smile, finally arriving at the actual living room. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yes,” he extended his hand which you gladly took to lead you out. instead of the usual rides in cabs you took, a limo zine was waiting for you outside.

“Mycroft?” you asked, a grin plastered on your face. Sherlock only responded with mutters, you heard something along the lines of ‘I could’ve done it without him.’

After a silent ride, you arrived at the restaurant where the dealer was going to be. As soon as you entered, you were greeted with a velvet atmosphere. the floor was an elegant red with white-clothed tables and black chairs around it, and a long bar stretching at the end.

A woman helped you with your coat and another leaded you to your reserved seats. You sat on a table for two. Of course, Sherlock did not pull out the chair for you, typical. You ordered your dinner and were comfortable doing so, knowing Mycroft would take care of the charge.

As you were waiting for your meals, a waiter came by and poured red wine into your glasses, lighting a candle in the middle before leaving. You were sure that your face was red by now as if the blush you applied wasn’t enough. You thanked all gods that Sherlock wasn’t paying attention, he was too busy looking around for the dealer to see your face.

“Here he is,” he finally said in a hushed tone, his face blank, completely focused on a man behind you. You turned around, somewhat excited to see this criminal. But as soon as you saw who it was, blood drained from your face and your breathing suddenly got heavy.

“Sherlock… What are you talking about? That’s my ex.”

“I’m telling you it’s him, he’s the drug dealer,” he said seriously.

“My ex was a drug dealer?!” you whisper-shouted as your breathing somehow got even heavier. “Oh, god. I was dating a drug dealer. he was a drug dealer.”


“you’re not helping!”

But it was just your luck that he started making his way to your table, you hurriedly looked at Sherlock.

“Quick, kiss me,” you blurted.

“You need to calm down, (Y/N).”

“I said kiss me!” when you saw he only rolled his eyes, you instinctively cupped his face an pulled him closer, sealing the gap with a kiss.

You couldn’t lie, this was a dream of yours. You have loved the consulting detective for as long as you could remember, and you do admit that you might have slightly used this situation as an excuse to kiss him.

The kiss was short, but oh so sweet. You begged to attach your lips to his again after you slowly broke away, looking each other in the eyes.

“Woah, (Y/N)!” of course your ex had to ruin the moment.  

“Micheal,” you glared at him

“Hey, you can call me Mike!” you only responded with an eye roll. “What are you doing here?”

Before you could answer, Sherlock came in. “I’m sure you can tell that she’s having dinner with her boyfriend, no need to ask stupid questions.”



your eyes widened but you quickly hid it with a cough. “Yeah, w-what he said.” you mentally face palmed at yourself.

“Good talk. Unfortunately, you have to come with me,” Sherlock said as he pulled out some handcuffs. A frightened look was plastered on Michael’s face, but before he got the chance to run away, Sherlock locked his hands as you immediately called Lestrade.

Mission: complete.

Oh, you weren’t talking about the capture of the criminal.

heads up

I thought I had an empty weekend of nothing stretching ahead of me, but I finally caved to the entreaties of the at least seven people who have recommended nirvana in fire to me and you’re right, this is everything I love, it’s IDENTITY PORN and TRAGIC PASTS(/PRESENTS/FUTURES) and POLITICS and WARRIOR PRINCESSES and CHILDHOOD BETROTHALS and AMAZING COSTUMES and a SLYTHERIN SCHEMER PROTAGONIST and REVENGE and SO MUCH LOYALTY KINK and I’m only on episode 4 of 54 (jfc) but I can already tell that I live here now and I’m going to let this show punch me repeatedly in the heart and/or kidneys by making me love people and then killing them. like. I am already braced for it. everyone I love will either die OR be left sobbing on their knees in a pile of artfully-draped expensive fabric because someone else has died. 

anyway I’ll be tweeting about it.



The snow softly crunched under their feet, gloved hands wrapped around each other, if one of them slipped they were definitely taking the other down. The street was lit harshly by the florescent lights filtering out of the stores, that light bounced softly off of the gentle snow that fell around them. 

“You fit right in with winter,” Hide breathed, hood up and the fabric draped around Hide’s face. Making the shadows sharp across upon his face, smiling softly as he stared at Kaneki. 

“Is it just because I’ve got white hair right now?” Kaneki asked, brow arched as he stared back at Hide, frowning lightly at the other.

“Not just that,” Hide said, chuckling slightly, “your personality and overall demeanour,” he added with a smirk. 

“You’re saying I’m icy?” Kaneki returned, brows pinched together and upturned, almost smirking as he tried to tear Hide down. 

“I’m just here to melt your heart,” Hide murmured, bumping his shoulder against Kaneki’s, unable to hold back his laughter at the sound of Kaneki’s spluttering.

“You’re really freaking awful,” Kaneki said, jabbing his elbow into Hide’s side. 

“And you love it,” Hide replied, smiling from ear to ear, smiling bright enough to make Kaneki wince. 


Dean jangled the keys in his hand. “Cas! What are you doing? Get your coat! Let’s go!”

Sam looked around to see Cas standing in the middle of the room without his signature trench coat. “I think I saw it in the library last,” he said.

“Alright,” Cas said. He wandered in and froze when he saw your reclined form sound asleep on the couch, your chest moving up and down deeply and slowly. He smiled to himself. You hadn’t slept well in days and here you were, your hands curled into the fabric of his trench coat, cheek pressed against the soft fabric draped over the arm of the couch, the rest of it fanned out underneath you. He drifted over and pulled a quilt from the back of the couch over your legs gently, smoothing it over your feet. He returned to the brothers sans coat.

“Dude. Where’s your coat? Come on,” Dean asked again, giving him an impatient look.

“I’ll be fine without it.”

“It’s freezing rain out there–”

“I’ll be fine,” Cas insisted.



I recently got back from Tokyo a couple days ago, and while I am still recovering from jetlag…LET ME SHARE WHAT I GOT AT CLOSET CHILD THIS YEAR!

Item #1 is this awesome Alice Auaa dress! I’m still trying to figure out if this is the back of the dress or the front (the other side has buttons coming down all the way to the hem. It’s really beautiful!) it has a faded, aged look to it (which is probably why it was $25) but it still looks cool! Very post apocalyptic.

Item #2 is an Alice Auaa tattered skirt which I absolutely fell in LOVE with because it has a sort of witch-like drapery to it. As I’ve mentioned before I have been into layering fabrics and draping black upon black to give a sort of “forest witch” vibe to it if you will. It pairs perfectly with Item #3 which is a Sheglit draped corset belt. I bought that piece at the KERA shop.

Item #4 is a Black Peace Now floor length skirt with red and black beaded crosses on it. I absolutely loved this piece because again, it leans more towards the style I have been taking recently. Finding this item really made me miss BPN haha :(

And last is item #5 which is a satin Sheglit halter JSK with black embroidery on it. Fell in love with this very romantic design. Great for not only Lolita, but casual gothic wear as well.

I’ll make a post soon showcasing the jewelry I bought this year and QPOT’s Halloween tea special for 2016!