fine silk


Italian Decorated Parade Armour of King Philip III of Spain from 1585 on display at the Victoria and Albert Museum in London

From top to bottom, the Burgonet, breastplate and gauntlets comes from a a series presented to the Spanish royal family in the 1580′s. Tailor-made parade armour was iron clothing: the pointed ‘peascod’ breastplate imitated fashionable doublets. Draped with fine silk sashes and with helmets sprouting plumes of ostrich feathers. Such armour was for effect and display rather than protection in battle. Inspired by ancient Roman armour it transformed Renaissance nobles into classical heroes.


Just a few photo’s of embroidered pins, they’re all handembroidered needlepaintings of places I visited in Iceland, France, Portugal and back home in the Netherlands, embroidered with fine filament silk. They’re about 3.5 by 5 cm big and they’ll be for sale in a new(seperate from Raouken) Etsy shop soon :D I hope you like them! <3 If you do, you can follow their progress on Facebook at Vegvisir and on Instagram at vegvisir_embroidery

Spider Grandmother is a Native American mythological woman who features in the tales of South-Western Native American tribes. She is also known as ‘Spider Woman’, ‘Great Teacher’ and ‘Creator of Life’. Spider Grandmother is thought of as the creator of the world who uses her magic to weave the fabric of time. Her web is believed to represent the matrix of societies, as each living being remains attached to her.

The legends of Spider Grandmother feature as the creation mythology for several tribes, including Pueblo and Navajo Native Americans. She features as one of two original beings, with the other named Tawa who was a solar deity. Tawa is said to have imagined creation and Spider Grandmother took those dreams and made them a reality. For every person she created, Spider Grandmother spun a line of fine spider silk and attached it to their heads to ensure that they were each connected to her and to each other.

She potentially dates back to before the establishment of these tribes, as Mayan, Olmec and pre-Toltec civilisations all had a deity who resembled Spider Grandmother. The ‘Great Goddess of Teotihuacan’ was thought to have been the goddess of the underworld, earth and creation. Similarly, a spider was seen as a creature of darkness in ancient Mesoamerican civilisations. However the closest link to Spider Grandmother comes with the Aztec goddess Coatlicue, who is described as malevolent. Coatlicue was believed to have birthed the sun and stars as well as being the bringer of death. She used her knife to cut the strands that connected humans to the web of life.


Yuzen-painted Taisho Kimono. Taisho period (1912-1926), Japan.  The Kimono Gallery. A stunning sheer kinsha silk hitoe summer kimono featuring embroidered and yuzen-dyed carp motifs. Carp are known as ‘koi’ in Japan, and are regarded as the most auspicious of fishes: in the context of this woman’s kimono, the carp motifs symbolize love and friendship towards ones lover. Japanese tradition also has the carp representing strength and survival, as well as honoring one’s taking an independent path in life. This kimono was obviously created at great expense by master artisans over a considerable period of time. The very fine crepe silk that was used for this kimono was no longer made after the mid-20th century, and we have never seen this particular type of kinsha: it was woven with a rinzu (damask) pattern, with the water patterns of plain crepe and the remainder a pronounced abstract ribbed texture (please look closely at the detail images). The carp were created by three different means: the carp that appear at the furthest distance – barely perceptible - are embroidered of white thread; those a little closer with silver metallic thread, while the seventeen dark carp in the foreground were intricately painted on via the time-consuming yuzen-dyeing technique. The white and silver carp are embroidered on the silk using what is called the 'fuzzy effect’ technique. Considered the technique of highest dignity in Japanese embroidery, 'fuzzy effect’ is worked by laying parallel stitches that do not touch, allowing the background fabric to show through and creating as in this case an extremely subtle effect.

Shiny Silks

Title: Shiny Silks
Word Count: 240 words
A/N: Inspired by this post

“Don’t you get the feeling that there’s something off about that one Hwarang?”

Sighing, your two acquaintances turned to you, sadly shaking their heads.

“It’s okay to admit you’ve got a crush on him,” the one with the pink flower soothed.

“Yeah!” the one with the purple flower chimes in, nodding her head at the previous statement.

“I don’t have a crush on him!” you defend, dismissing their claims.

“Why do you keep looking at him, then?” the purple flower twin asks.

“I mean,” the pink flower twin adds, “he’s not as handsome as Master Banryu or Master Sooho, but I guess he’s okay.”

Stepping forward, you turn and discreetly point to the man in question.

“Look at his clothes!” you exclaimed in a whisper.

“Ooh, how nice!” the twins agreed, looking over the vibrant colours and intricate patterns.

“See, that’s my point!” you added, “no one else in the capital wears clothes like that!”

“But didn’t Master Wihwa say his nephew grew up in the West?” the twin with the purple flower recalls.

“They probably just have a different sense of fashion there,” the twin with the pink flower guesses.

“It’s not like he’s the king or anything- that’d just be crazy!”

With a sigh, you decide to give up on the pair of twins. There was something about those shiny silks that didn’t settle well with you, and you were going to figure out just what it was.

Feel free to leave a request in our ask box! 
-Admin Rose

nemira-the-mercenary  asked:

Samarra/Solas; 64 sensory prompts: Thigh-high stockings and garter belts. ;]]

Hooo boy *rubs hands together in glee* LET’S GO.
For @dadrunkwriting!

If she never had to see another Orlesian noble in her life, she’d die happy. Samarra grumbled beneath her breath as she carefully slipped out of the breathtaking gown that Josephine had had designed for her. She’d desperately wanted to wear the uniform that came with pants, but one look at the ambassador’s grimly set face had immediately dissuaded her against arguing with the pretty Antivan.

Standing in front of the full-length mirror in her room, she eyed her reflection with a critical eye. The fact that her tits looked fantastic in the corset nearly made up for the fact that she’d been perpetually short of breath all evening. And despite what she’d feared, the finely-spun silk stockings hadn’t been terrible to wear, even if the stiff-wired garter had dug into her skin.

Man, I look good, she thought, her lips quirking upwards into a smirk. She’d felt regal in her dress, though having her bottom pinched over the course of the evening had turned her enthusiasm into annoyance, and by the end of the night she’d sought solace by hanging out next to Iron Bull, who the nobles made a concerted effort to steer clear of.

A movement in the mirror’s reflection, a soft hiss as the door hinges swung open, and her eyes locked with Solas’ in the mirror. She watched, her throat going bone dry as the expression in his face changed from impassive to hunger, a distinctly feminine smugness bubbling up in her chest at the desire in his eyes.

He knew she saw him.

She knew he knew she saw him.

He slipped through the narrow opening of the doorway, shutting the heavy wooden door behind him with a soft, determined thud, then moved to lean back against the closed door, his hands crossed over his chest, waiting.


His eyes never leaving her form in the mirror.

There was power here, a control she could wield over him if she so chose to. And oh, oh yes, she chose to. At that moment, she didn’t know if there was any other option. She would see him unravel. She would. 

Her hands moved down slowly, so slowly, to the top of one thigh, gingerly pulling at the knot that held it tight. With a soft swish the satin lacing unraveled, and she saw his reflection swallow reflexively, as though something had stuck in his throat.

Her eyes lit up with a knowing smirk.

She bent over, arching her back in just that way, her derriere jutting out, all round and lush and perfect, she knew. His hands trembled, fingers twitching as though he itched to reach for her. Slowly she slid both her hands down her pointed leg, rolling down the silk stocking in a single, fluid motion, the soft rasp of silk on silk filling the silence of the room. 

And mingled with that sound was the heavy rasp of his breath, a melody she thought she’d never get tired of.

One foot done, and she carefully set aside the stocking, her hands switching to the other leg. When she looked up at the mirror, she found him standing not near the door, but seated at the edge of the bed, one foot casually resting on the other knee, his hands resting on the mattress. He watched her through half-hooded lids, his eyes filled with predatory hunger, but that was all he did.

“Please, go ahead.” The statement was polite, but the command it held was anything but.

She’d heard before of how silk and stockings were sensual, but never, till this moment, had she experienced it for herself. And now that she had, she thought she’d never tire of it, of the power that came when a woman knowingly, deliberately seduced a man - it was a heady rush akin to nothing else.

She placed the second stocking next to the first.

Straightening herself, her eyes met his in the mirror once more, lower lip caught firmly between her teeth. “I could use some help,” she purred, as she tugged at her corset suggestively.

“I thought you would never ask.”


Reverse Falls with some dipifica. Loose ties to Summerween. At this point Pacifica has no clue that Dipper has a crush on her. And to some extent neither does Dipper. There is snark ahead. And DANCING! *flails arms*


If Pacifica hadn’t been accustomed to extravagance and splendour, the sight of the ballroom before her would have taken her breath away. A grand crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling. The lights adorning it were set dim and covered in a sheen of red glass, to help people remember which holiday they were celebrating. The tile floors were bathed in a deep crimson red, along with the dark walls. The room was like something out of a gothic Victorian castle. Rich velvet curtains covered the windows, allowing no outside light to filter in. Bodies, draped in fine silks of dark reds, blues, greens and blacks, spun around the room in a graceful waltz. Everyone wore a mask, but Pacifica could tell they were all around her age. It was a shock to the system, since she couldn’t imagine why kids her age would want to be at a ballroom dance instead of going to an actual fun party. Though it definitely wasn’t surprising that the Pines Twins would throw something like this.

Pacifica wandered around the edges of the ballroom, scanning for any kind of buffet table. There had to be a place where they would put the candy. It would be stupid to have a Summerween party without candy. Even if this was more of a 18th century Ball than a party.

“Looking for something Northwest?” a silvery voice asked from behind her, in his usual bored drawl.

Pacifica suppressed to urge to groan in frustration, as she slowly turned to face one of the hosts of the party. It wasn’t at all shocking that he managed to find her. She stood before him in a snow white angel costume that made her stand out like a sore thumb. The dress was floor length and shimmering in the little light that the ball room had. If she had known that everyone would be wearing such dark colours, she wouldn’t have worn white.

Dipper was wearing red. Which was super weird because Pacifica had only ever seen him in blue, black or green. His costume wasn’t actually that different from his usual stage attire. He still had his silky black dress shirt and black slacks. Only now his floor length cape and button down Victorian style vest were a deep crimson instead of turquoise or blue. His amulet gleamed at the apex of his collar, the sea green contrasting horribly with the red. Though it was doubtful Dipper even cared about that. He would rather flay his own skin than be parted from that amulet. The mask he wore was red and decorated with black glittering flames on the surface. The top corners of the mask were shaped into curled demon horns.

“The Devil huh,” Pacifica said as soon as she took in his appearance. “How fitting.”

“And an angel costume,” Dipper answered back with a snarl. “How pretentious.”

Pacifica couldn’t help the flare of anger that sparked in her eyes. Nor could she control the down turn of her lips.

“Do you usually insult your guests?” Pacifica asked with her arms crossed. “No wonder the turnout is so low.”

“Only the most tolerable of our so called peers were invited to this party,” Dipper shot back, his cool voice traced with petulance. “And I believe you weren’t on that list.”

Pacifica offered him the most mocking pout and shrug she could muster. A thin scowl appeared on his lips and she could see his eyes narrowing beneath his mask. She smiled to herself, for being capable of shifting his carefully crafted mask of indifference into a look with echoes of fury.

“Gideon sends his regrets for being unable to attend,” Pacifica stated in her stuck up formal tone that took years to perfect.

Dipper’s nostrils flared as he took a deep breath through his nose. It was no secret that he loathed his sister’s affection towards Gideon. He genuinely despised Gideon (along with everyone else at the Mystery Shack) and hated that his own flesh and blood would willingly associate with them. Not only that, but Mabel’s infatuation always ended up restraining his hand when he had a plan to steal the journal. He was quick to hide his rage and replace it with his usual placid and bored expression. God forbid he actually show hints of emotion.

“Mabel invited Gideon,” he sighed with a frown of his lips. Clearly he hadn’t been aware that his twin had sent Gido an invitation to their Summerween masque. Not until then at least. Annoyance at his sister’s antics flickered across his face as he clasped his hands behind his back. “Of course she did.”

“He wasn’t feeling up to it,” Pacifica explained with a shrug. “So I took the invite in his place.”

“And why is that, I wonder?” Dipper asked as he took a threatening step towards her. She stopped herself from flinching backwards and strengthened her stance. As he circled her like a vulture, invading precious personal space, she made sure to cast him a deadly glare through her lace mask. “Why would you enter the dwelling of your enemies, when you know how dangerous it would be. Unless you have a death wish.”

“Nobody says ‘dwelling’ anymore Pines,” Pacifica stated with an eye roll. She locked eyes with him and glared “And it’s none of your business why I’m here. So you can go terrorize your other guests.”

She turned away from him with a huff, determined to look for that stupid candy. No need to waste her time engaging in a verbal battle of barbs and insults when her life was on the line. Just as she started walking away as quickly as her heels would allow, Dipper glided in front of her. His arm was outstretched and he offered her his open palm. Two of his fingers beckoned her forward in one sharp movement, that seemed more like a demand.

“Dance with me.”

Pacifica stared at him in shock for a few fleeting seconds. She blinked a few times to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating. What on earth had possessed him to say that? Dipper wasn’t the type to ask his sworn enemies to dance. In fact she couldn’t imagine him asking anyone to dance. Did the guy even know how to dance? Didn’t he only know how to skulk in dark corners?

“As fun as that sounds,” she said with an intentional lack of enthusiasm. She smiled at him with her most sickeningly sweet smile, which would hopefully drive him away. “My dance card is full.”

The magician didn’t seem deterred. His green eyes flashed in the light and the vicious grin of a blood thirsty wolf curled at his lips. That alone was enough to send her heart pounding like a jackhammer in fear. But his next words made her throat close, terror burning in her lungs. “How long do you think it would take for me to crush a man’s skull with my amulet?” he asked casually, pulling his hand back to examine the shape of his perfectly manicured nails. “I’m thinking 45 seconds.”

Pacifica knew Dipper Pines well enough to know that it wasn’t an actual question. It was without a doubt a threat. He never took no as answer, no matter the demand. Of course he would resort to threatening her, even if it was the dumbest request she had heard him make in a while. She clenched her fists at her sides, and jutted her chin out defiantly. “You wouldn’t.”

“It is my party,” he shrugged in response, that arrogant smirk still on his stupid face. “And it’s not as if you’re willing to take the chance.”

Pacifica wanted nothing more in that moment than to break his nose. Her fingers twitched with anticipation at her side, and she had to grip the silk of her dress in order to stop herself from lunging at him. If she didn’t want anyone to get hurt, she was going to have to keep her temper in check. Why couldn’t he just be a normal pompous jerk instead of a pompous jerk with mystical powers? She grit her teeth together and begrudgingly accepted his offer with a sneer.

“Excellent,” Dipper said, his voice betraying none of the smugness that she knew he was feeling.

Without another word, he strode across the dance floor, winding his way through the maze of twirling bodies with ease. Pacifica debated on just leaving him to dance by himself and continue on her search. But the backlash of that decision might be a bit bloody. So for the sake of everyone in that room, she followed him. It would be easier to make sure he wasn’t causing any trouble if she was there to distract him. Marching through the crowd of waltzing teenagers, who were strangely coordinated, was more difficult than Dipper made it seem. She almost knocked someone over three times before she caught up with him. But none of them stopped in their effortless dance, all of them keeping perfectly in time with the music and each other. Which was super sketchy.

She was just able to make it in front of Dipper as the music reached its final notes. The waltz that had continued without pause around them slowed and ended with a low dip. Every single person moving at matching speed at matching times. Pacifica stared at all of the dancers suspiciously. He had to have something to do with the people at this party acting strangely.

Another song began only seconds after the last song had stopped, giving Pacifica barely enough time to gather her thoughts before every male partner in the room fell forward into a deep bow. Dipper was included in this, bending in perfect match with the other boys in the room, but he didn’t bend down nearly as low and kept his eye contact with her. It might have been the heavy conditioning she had received during her ballroom dancing lessons, or it could have simply been the desire to not look stupid in front of so many people, but she did end up lowering into a curtsy. Every other girl in the room followed exactly half a second behind her. Pacifica shot Dipper a furious scowl, knowing now for certain that something was going on here.

He didn’t respond with anything but a wry smile as he stepped towards her.

With one fluid motion, Dipper slipped his hand into hers and placed the other on her waist, catching her off guard. She forced herself not to shiver under the chill of his touch. It was like he was made of ice. It took all her concentration to stop from stumbling as he started leading her backwards with quick, graceful steps. She allowed him to lead her in the dance as he kept in step with everyone else’s waltz.

Though Pacifica didn’t recognize the dance, she did her best to keep up with Dipper’s pace, watching her feet intently. They spun around the room, in precise synchronization with all the other guests. The hand on her waist dropped and she was twirled three times with the fluctuations of the melody, the ends of her dress fluttering at her feet. A squeak of breath escaped her breath when she was guided back into Dipper’s grasp.

“Having trouble keeping up Northwest?” His smooth voice didn’t even break as they floated across the floor. Well he floated, Pacifica was more or less dragged.

“No,” she snapped back without looking up at him. If she did, she would lose her place. “How is everyone doing this? Was there a rehearsal ball or something?”

Right in time with the music again, Dipper let go of her hand and gripped her hips with both hands. He lifted her up of the ground and did a half spin. She gasped in surprise and again when the movement was repeated. One wouldn’t think he had it in him, considering his arms were basically noodles. Pacifica looked up into his eyes in astonishment to find him smirking down at her. She isn’t sure what causes her to notice it, but she can see speckles of brown within the sea green of his irises.

“I will tell you my secret if you tell me yours,” Dipper stated with a tilt of his head. The hand on the small of her back pushed her flush against him. “It would be a shame if you were left in the dark.”

Pacifica bit her lip as she realized they’re proximity. With any other boy, her face would be on fire and the colour of tomatoes. But since this was Dipper Pines, she was thoroughly repulsed. Her eyes didn’t dart back to the floor in order to avoid his, they stayed on him. Sure it took all her will power, but she managed to keep looking at him with the same pissed off expression.

“Do you want the long story or the short one?” she asked breathlessly as he picked up the speed and spun them around faster and faster. She was staring to get dizzy from all this twirling. At this rate she would definitely lose what was left of her footing. It would be mortifying to be knocked off her feet in front of Pines, she would never hear the end of it.

“Let’s start with the short story,” Dipper replied casually, completely unaffected by their constant movement. He even had the nerve to look down at her in condescending amusement.

“I need five hundred pieces of candy,” she said curtly, no longer willing to put up with him anymore. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t been forced to converse with people she didn’t like before. But at least she didn’t have to stay trapped in a seemingly endless waltz with them. What made it worse was that he was clearly much better at this than her. Even with the sophisticated lessons she had taken since she was a child, along with the dancing Granny Carla had been teaching her as of late, she was still struggling.

Dipper went silent, which was a nice relief, and his lips tipped into a slight frown. He stared at her expectantly as they continued to move. Their steps were a bit slower now and much easier for Pacifica to keep track of.

“Five hundred pieces of candy,” he repeated.


He let out an indignant scoff and gazed at her with a look that was the closest to disbelief he could probably get to. “Why on earth would you need five hundred pieces of candy?”

“That’s part of the long story,” she said, shrugging her shoulders.

“Then tell me the long story,” Dipper demanded, speaking like he was dealing with a child. Well good. She hoped she was giving him a hard time. The jerk deserved it.

“I pissed off the Summerween trickster because I didn’t give him any candy,” she explained rapidly, taking a brief pause when he swiftly twirled her several times. “He said that if I didn’t get him five hundred pieces of candy, he was going to eat me, along with Melody, Gideon, long hair, and puppet hands.”

“Couldn’t you just go to a store,” Dipper suggested in a dry tone, raising a perfectly sculpted eyebrow.

“Gee Pines, I didn’t think of that,” Pacifica said as sarcastically as possible. “None of the stores are open, genius. The town takes this holiday way too seriously.”

Dipper nodded as if he was contemplating what she said with great thought. “So you came here in hopes that we would have free candy on display, so that you can pay off the monster who is threatening you,” he concluded. He regarded her curiously for a moment. “Do you know what type of creature this Summerween Trickster is?”

“It’s not anywhere in the journal,” she answered, a bit uneasy. If Dipper didn’t know about this thing then it wasn’t in his journal either. He knew all the details of that book from front to back.

“You mean it’s not in you’re journal,” he corrected, with the simple objective of getting under her skin.

“Oh I’m sorry, all knowing one,” she sneered in response. “Does your journal say anything about it?”

“Perhaps the first journal has the information,” Dipper purposefully avoided her question, calmly lifting her from the ground again.

Pacifica snorted in derision. “Lot of good that’s going to do me,” she muttered. Regaining her focus, she glared back up at him. “Now tell me what you did to these people.”

“It’s just a spell,” Dipper drawled, as if it was the least interesting thing in the world.

Pacifica’s eyes widened into saucers and she gaped at him. Though she knew she shouldn’t be shocked at his horrible lack of morality. “You cast a spell on everyone here!” she hissed.

“Technically no,” he clarified. “I cast a spell on the room. Anyone who steps onto the dance floor will be forced to participate in the choreography that Mabel created for each song. Since my sister and I cast the spell, we’re not affected. We are simply well versed in the steps.” He paused before looking her over with a cool gaze. “You’re obviously immune as well.”

His hand slowly ran up her arm to her collar bone, leaving behind a cold trail. His long fingers idly plucked at the string around her neck that held the red and black crystal tucked under her dress. The bloodstone that served as her only protection. The only thing that kept him from controlling her, mentally and physically. And apparently the reason she was the only one who was completely lost in this stupid waltz.

“How long will they be forced to be like this?” Pacifica asked in concern. It was horrible that the Pines Twins were forcing these kids to dance for hours on end. Her mind automatically filtered to a fairytale where a girl wore a pair of shoes that had forced her to dance until her feet bled. She shivered at the thought.

Dipper didn’t look up from the necklace and he didn’t answer her question either. She could practically see that computer brain processing and calculating, though she could only guess would he was thinking about. Icy fingers whispered across the skin of her arm, causing her breath to hitch. His stare didn’t leave her neck until their hands were rejoined. Only then did he look back up at her face. His face was vacant, but his eyes were searching, as if he was picking her apart.

“The spell fades away at midnight,” he finally answered. “Everyone will leave the party unscathed. On my part. I’m not sure what Mabel is up to.”

Pacifica didn’t have any other choice than to trust him at that moment. She could figure out how to stop the spell after she took care of the trickster. Gideon was counting on her to get that candy. She couldn’t afford to disappoint him twice in the same night.

“So, candy,” she started, a new determination. To save her loved ones and everyone that surrounded her. “Yay or nay?”

“I suppose I could help you,” he hummed, his voice lowering. “For a price.”

Pacifica already knew what he would want from her, and gave him the answer before he could ask. “I don’t have the journal on me,” she stated with a deadpan stare. “And my friends are watching it.”


“You don’t need to keep staring at the book when you’re holding it Melody.”

“I’m like a hawk.”


“Your bloodstone then,” Dipper suggested, his eyes darting down to her neck and lingering there for a moment before looking back up at her with a smirk. “I’m willing to settle for it.”

“Even if I did give you the stone,” Pacifica said with a roll of her blue and violet eyes. “I still have others hidden throughout the shack.”

“Well I could simply force you to get rid of them, along with your hex bags.” He twirled her away from him and then back into his arms.

“Gideon has his own bloodstones and his own hex bags hidden in the Shack,” she smirked back at him, knowing that there was no way for him to win this one. “Not even I know where he put them. So you’re out of luck there.”

Dipper smiles something that is disturbingly close to genuine fondness. “Clever girl.”

The praise throws her off and causes hints of warning to rise up from the depths of her stomach. But she crushes her discomfort down by focusing on being furious that he called her girl like she was a child or a dog. Before she could express her anger, the music picked up in volume and speed. They waltzed across the ballroom at a pace that was so fast that it forced her to concentrate on the movements. Twirl, step, step, step, lift, step, step, step, twirl out. She was getting a good hang of the music and the dancing now, if anything good came from this dance. As the song drew to a uproarious close, every male in the room dropped their partner into a low dip.

Dipper leaned heavily over her, the expression on his face wasn’t placid, nor was it readable. His arm, wrapped solidly around her waist, was the only thing that kept her from falling to the floor. The fabric at the ends of her dress were splayed on the crimson floor. Pacifica wasn’t sure where to put her hands, so she placed them on Dipper’s shoulders to give her a sense of balance. Looking up at his eyes, she stared at those warm flecks of brown, drowning in eerie sea green.

“God,” he sighed in irritation, as if he had been given the wrong dish at a five star restaurant. His voice was so soft and quiet, it almost threw her off. “That is so inconvenient.”

“What is,” she whispered, unable to comprehend what he meant by that. He kind of said it out of nowhere.

His lost expression shifted to a face stone in the blink of an eye. He quickly pulled her up from her position and pulled his hands away and clasped them behind his back.

“Nothing,” he asserted indifferently. His face was back to his usual look of disinterest. He stared at the spot above her head as he continued to speak. “We may not have five hundred pieces of candy. But I suppose if you’re desperate, you can count them yourself.”

Pacifica rose a questioning eyebrow. Was he just going to give her the candy that could save her life (what a weird phrase)? It seemed uncharacteristically generous. He turned from her sharply walked away from her with long strides, forcing her to run to catch up with him. These weird traces of actual emotion in Pines were starting to get creepy. She was starting to regret coming to this party.

“What about the price?” Pacifica panted when she ran up beside him. “You don’t want one of my fingers or my blood or any other freaky thing.”

He turned his head ever so slightly to give her a small smirk. At least that was more like Dipper. “I’ll think something up.”


I watched way too many ballroom dancing videos while making this. Not so subtle reference to Love Actually in there. Dipper realizes he’s got feelings. And damn is it ever inconvenient.

Finally chose what Pacifica’s helpful spell blocking crystal was. Bloodstone, the name sounded super cool so I decided to use it. The actual stone (known as heliotrope) can be used as a grounding and protecting stone that keeps out undesirable influences. I’m pretty sure it can be found in the United States, so why not have a supply in Gravity Falls that blocks off magic and spells. As long as Pacifica has it on her, Dipper can’t use his amulet or his mind control on her. Nor can she be affected by magic room spells that force you to dance.

Things You Said - 27.

Recommended Listening: Berlin By Overnight - Max Richter

things you said when you were jealous

He’s never wanted to go to any of these parties. Sparkling glasses in their hands, suits made of the finest fabric, ribbons and flowers in their hair. Hawke has begged him to come with her since the first invitation. He had given her an abject ‘no’ each and every time. That is, until he began to see more and more of her. Nights spent waiting up for her by the fire, a book in his hands. She’d come home with anger plain on her face, make her way towards him with a fire in her belly.

Her kisses would be messy, her hands seeking and rough. All she would ask is that he touch her. They’d tear that fine silk off of her together and he’d run his hands from shoulder to hip. She would melt into his touch, cling to him as he wrapped his hands around her ribs, warm and comforting, and “please” is all she would say.

So tonight, he has finally said yes. Yes to seeing what makes Hawke frustrated so. Yes to seeing what angers her, makes her need him so terribly. Fenris crosses his arms, leaning against a post, one of those glasses in his hands. She was quickly stolen from his side as countless nobles flocked to her. He could see expression sour and sour, the more they talked. Then he stiffens as he stands straighter. Someone touching her, just there, a hand against her lower back. The noble leans to whisper something in her ear.

She crushes her hand around his arm, removes his touch. Fenris watches it happen again and again, a different noble each and every time. Hawke does not shout, does not yell, simply gives her warning and glowers. So new to nobility, she cannot afford to make such a scene. Fenris sets his glass down on the table. He does not touch her like the others.

He simply wedges his way next to her, so that she can see him. “Hawke, I need to speak to you.” Hawke looks at him for a moment before nodding, following him away. The circle of people she has left turn, watch her go. He stops her in the middle of the hall.

“What is it Fen-” He pulls her into a tight embrace, arms around her waist, tipping her back as one of his legs parts hers. He is not usually so demanding with his kisses. He forces her lips to part, slips a tongue inside her mouth. Her arms wrap around his neck and she’s taken with it, allows him to do what he will. 

He’s always considered affection a private thing. Something to be cherished away from prying eyes. Somewhere to show the true scope of his feelings. He cares not for the eyes upon them tonight. He cares less for the way they paw at his Hawke. She’s dazed as they pull apart.

“You are mine,” he whispers to her.

“Yes,” she says, leaning up to plant a smaller kiss against his lips.

No other person touches her that night.

Elia has a spine like a spear, and she breaks for no man, not even her husband.  If she cries, she hides it.  She would certainly have never shown it to Ashara.

As they ride south, Ashara looks at Arthur.  He rides beside Prince Rhaegar, his white cloak shimmering in the sunlight it seems.  Fine silk, brother, she’d told him when she’d first seen him wearing it.  He’d grinned at her.  It had been so soft to the touch—softer than a warrior should wear, she’d gone on to say, but Arthur had shrugged.  I don’t wear this one into battle—fear not, little sister.

He is a good man, fear not little sister.  That’s what Arthur had told her before she’d first been introduced to Prince Rhaegar.  He is my dearest friend, and clever as a cat.  He’d pressed her nose, as he had done when she’d been a little girl, and that had brought a smile to her face.  If Princess Elia was unknown to her, at least if she was to be in the royal household, her brother’s dearest friend was with her too.

He is a good man, Arthur had promised her, and so too, had she promised her princess when first she’d come to court, slim and sickly and guarded.  My mother told me that there are serpents at court, Princess Elia had confided one night while they’d both waited for sleep to take them.  It is true, Ashara had thought.  But what she’d said was what Arthur had told her.  Prince Rhaegar is a good man, and clever as a cat.  That had made her princess smile.  

Princess Elia rides in the wheelhouse with two other ladies.  You’ll want to ride with your brother, I’m sure, she’d said.  Ashara had ridden horseback north, why should she not south, but it had shaken her.  Does she think I would choose Rhaegar’s folly over her? Ashara had wondered, bewildered.  Had there been no one else there, she may well have asked, but there are serpents at court, and feeding the serpents can be dangerous.  So instead she inclined her head and mounted her horse, but even so, she could not bring herself to ride with Arthur and Rhaegar.

He is a good man, and clever as a cat, Arthur had promised her, pressing her nose.

Clever.  She could laugh.  How is it clever to present a laurel to a girl so young, not even yet a woman?  Perhaps he thought himself clever in doing so, but he was not.  He’d been stupid, and hardly a good man, and perhaps there were no good men in the world.  She looked at Arthur in his shimmering white cloak.  They are riding in silence, the two of them.  Arthur and Rhaegar, a stunning pair to behold, a more puissant pair of warriors the likes of which could not be found throughout the kingdoms.  

Are you so stupid as to think he is still a good man, brother?  She wonders.  For this—this is a damage he could never undo kind of stupid.  Perhaps he did not see it.  Perhaps he didn’t know, perhaps neither of them did.  But Elia’s spine was like a spear, and it was clear to Ashara if to no one else—a new kind of stupid.  A you didn’t think this through kind of stupid.

Princess Loreza had warned Elia that there were serpents at court.  Were not dragons a kind of wyrm?

anonymous asked:

i looked in the tags but couldn't really find it /: do you know any fics with jimin and jungkook fighting over taehyung ???

these are the closest I can find^^

mellifluence by GIRIRON - The confluence of the four elements – Earth, Wind, Fire and Water, was how we have been taught to live. Through Confucian values, we have learnt to be stable like the ground beneath our feet, light-hearted and ready to forgive as the spring breeze, passionate and motivated like flames that lick at wood, and flexible as running rivers course through their paths. This is the tale of the four elements – of three men and a single woman embroiled in a beautiful tale of love and loyalty, one whispered amongst the fine silks of mercenaries and scholars, or conversed about loudly in the bustling marketplace. This is the story of the King’s Clown.

don’t keep love around by atechamcham - jeongguk thinks park jimin doesn’t deserve kim taehyung. not in the least.

catching stars to keep (the heavy heart remix) by staygame (sungjae) - Jeon Jungkook is eighteen years, two hundred and one days, eighteen hours, thirty two minutes, and fifty five seconds old when he meets his soulmate.

make you wet between your thighs by teakookies - taehyung likes to be watched and jeongguk likes to make taehyung happy. jimin is slightly terrified, but mostly aroused.

(they don’t really fight over tae, but jimin is definitely attracted to tae and guk is possessive with tae)

got a question or request? check our tags page first to see if what you’re looking for is already there, or use the search bar on our blog! if you don’t have any luck with that, feel free to send us an ask when the inbox is open^^

Do not come to me dressed in armor and brandishing a sword, Iโ€™ve already slayed all my dragons and I donโ€™t need a knight anymore.

Do not come to me dressed in fine silks with a slew of gifts in tow, I can provide myself with luxuries as Iโ€™m well-equipped to do so.

Do not come to me on bended knee begging for my hand, they are busy building this life of mine though you may not understand.

Instead, if you must come to me, do so as yourself stripped bare. Come to me with soul in hand, prepare to show me that you really care.

Show me the calluses on your hands from building your own life, the scars on your heart from the demons you fight, the burns on your skin from the dragons youโ€™ve slain, and if you can do that then maybe Iโ€™ll do the same.

—  [s.bucks]
#94 // excerpt from a book I’ll never write
Reverse Dipifica

Last Stop to the Left

The familiar chime of the bell at the entrance caused Pacifica’s head to snap to attention. Freshly polished designer shoes clicked against hardwood floor and a black cape of fine silk fluttered in the wind. Upon seeing the boy who had entered the shack, the blonde rolled her eyes. It figures he would pick a day when she was working the cash register on her own. Gideon was out with his friends, Robbie didn’t work Sunday’s, Granny Carla was out giving a tour of the creepy part of the forest, and who knew where Melody was. So now she was forced to be all alone with the magician, aside from the guy browsing quietly in the far corner of the gift shop.

“I’m afraid we’re fresh out of hair gel sir,” she said with mock politeness. She leaned heavily over the counter to flash the boy a cheeky grin. “You’ll have to come back another time.”

Sharp sea green eyes shot her a look of irritation. Dipper Pines fluffed the edges of his flourished cape as he approached the cash register counter.

“Can I be spared the banter Pacifica,” Dipper replied, his tone bored and expression uninterested as he examined the card rack to the side of the register. “I have a serious matter to discuss.”

“Oh joy.”

Dipper continued as if he hadn’t heard her. “I’ve encountered something odd in the town and I need your help to capture it.”

Pacifica let out an overdramatic gasp. “Something odd? In this town?” Her tone flipped from enthusiastic to deadpan. “What a novel discovery.”

Dipper glared at her before motioning to the quiet man in the back of the shop. “It’s that guy.”

She glanced over his shoulder. “You mean the guy who works at the bowling alley?” she asked.

He nodded. “There’s something strange about him,” Dipper whispered, his eyes flashing in the sunlight that shined through the window.

Pacifica nodded as the man idly picked up a Gravity Falls snow globe. “I’m sure he says the same thing about you,” she stated. “Though I think lots of people probably say that about you.”

He let out a forlorn sigh and rubbed his temples in agitation. “He looks normal but he’s not,” Dipper stated without a beat of doubt. “Wherever he goes he’s always facing left.”

Pacifica looked over at the man again and saw that he was indeed facing left. “Uh huh,” she nodded again slowly, unable to keep a smirk from splitting her face. “You’ve got a few screws loose huh?”

His scowl stayed in place, deepening ever so slightly as he turned his head away from her to look at the man again. He reached up to touch his amulet with the tips of his fingers, but it’s paranormal glow was absent and it lay useless at his throat. He knew it wouldn’t work while inside the shack, but that didn’t stop the subconscious impulse at his fingers, begging him to use his magic.

This sort of thing was a bit ridiculous for Dipper Pines. Usually he shot a little higher when investigating the supernatural. He thought himself above the regular conspiracy theories of the average joe. So a guy that preferred his left side was a bit of a step down from his usual stuff, which mostly consisted of hunting down big terrible monsters and then using their organs for blood rituals or whatever.

She was starting to wonder if this was some sort of distraction. Pacifica absentmindedly reached underneath the countertop. She felt the familiar rough texture of her journal’s spine with a breath of relief. It was still there in her sight and out of his clutches. He didn’t seem to concerned with finding it either. His eyes didn’t scan the shop with that calculating gaze, they were fixed on the man across the room and occasionally darting towards her. So if he wasn’t here for her journal, she would have to assume he was here for the second reason he would come around to the shack.

“This isn’t just some lame excuse to come creeping around me is it?” Pacifica asked with her arms crossed and her eyes narrowed. “Because I’d rather not deal with that right now.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he sneered, looking at her from the corner of his eye as he continued to speak flippantly. Though, Pacifica could see the nervous flex in his hands and the tension between his shoulder blades. “Despite what you may think, I have a life outside of you.”

Pacifica rose a skeptical eyebrow as a corner of his lips twitched upwards and revealed a set of white teeth. The sharp edges of his smiles had always reminded her of a shark. But this smile looked more vampiric and suggestive than predatorial.

“But perhaps that’s what you were hoping for,” he said, green eyes flashing as he glanced back at her. “I think you’re starting to like the attention Northwest.”

Pacifica scoffed loudly. “As if.”

“Well God knows you need the company,” Dipper stated with a nonchalant shrug. “I believe you’re here by yourself for the next three hours until Carla returns.”

“Memorized my schedule huh? That’s not obscenely creepy at all,” Pacifica commented sarcastically, leaning away from Dipper so she wasn’t in such close radius. “I thought it was a little suspicious when you came here just after Granny Carla left with the tourists.”

“I simply waited till the place was mostly deserted so I could confront him out of the public’s eye,” Dipper admitted. “Being partially alone with you is more or less a somewhat happy coincidence.”

Despite what he seemed to think, Dipper wasn’t the least bit charming off the stage.

“Now, Im going to use my amulet in order to force him to turn to his right side,” he explained. “So I need you to remove your hex bags from the shack.”

A big fat red flag shot up in her mind. God, did he really think he could fool her with such an obvious trick.

“Yeah, that’s gonna happen never,” Pacifica snapped, her glare fixing onto his placid face. “I’m not an idiot Dipper. Do you think I’m just going to let you have free reign on this place for any length of time after everything you’ve done.”

Judging by the way he was turned completely away from her now, he wasn’t listening to her. Apparently he stopped paying attention to what she said when she denied him what he wanted, which was Dipper’s usual response. She tells him she won’t give up her journal until she’s dead, he keeps trying to take it. She tells him she doesn’t want to date him, he keeps asking. She returns a bouquet of flowers that he sends her, he sends the biggest freaking bouquet that he can buy.

He sauntered over to the man with a passive expression. The guy didn’t turn to face him. He kept facing left and looked at Dipper from the corner of his eye. Pacifica had to admit that was a little strange.

“Hello good sir,” Dipper greeted with the bravado and eccentricity reserved for shows and public occasions. “I was wondering if you could reach the shirts on that top shelf. The one to your right side.”

“I’m sorry I don’t work here,” the man stated before going back to examining the snow globes.

Dipper let out an embarrassed laugh that almost sounded real. Years of stage productions and magic acts with Mabel had perfected his acting technique. Pacifica noticed him pull out a small jar from his pocket as he continued to converse with the man. She had to wonder what the heck that was for.

“Yes of course. It’s just I can’t reach them on my own and the cashier girl is no help at all.” Pacifica crossed her arms and scowled as Dipper sent her a smirk. “I’m just wondering if you could help me out.”

After a moment the man shrugged and replied. “I don’t see why not.” He started walking backwards towards the shelf instead of just turning to face it. As he was reaching for the shirts on the top shelf, Dipper shoved him hard so that his right side was in full view.

Pacifica was not prepared for what she saw. It was like someone had sawed a robot in half and said robot was controlled by a bunch of creepy little green blobs that wore belts for some reason. Seriously what the hell was she looking at?

The green blobs looked towards her and Dipper with expressions of shock and horror. Then without warning they all started pulling out these glowing red balls and yelling out “the time has come” before swallowing them. They vanished in a small flash of white light.
Before the last one had the chance to swallow his pill, Dipper swiped it from inside the half robot and stuffed int into the jar.

The robot crumbled to the ground in a pile of metal bits and screws. A fire ignited when it crashed to the ground setting off all the sprinklers in the shop.
Pacifica could only gawk at the sight in front of her as Dipper straightened his cape and adjusted the amulet around his neck.

“Apologies,” he said. “I needed one of them for a spell. I’ve tried to capture them about three times now.”

Pacifica looked at the mess of burning robot bits and felt the water from the sprinklers soaking into her hair and clothes. She shouldn’t have been the least bit surprised at this point. After everything she had seen while in Gravity Falls, this didn’t even crack the top five. But she was sure as hell pissed at the fact that this guy was messing up her clothes and work space for another one of his damn spells.

She glowered at Dipper Pines and he simply smiled that shark smile in triumph at the creature he had captured.

“Get out!”

He turned to face her with the slightest bit of curiosity on his face, his grin still in place. “Yes of course,” he agreed with her order, which was a shocker in itself. “You have quite the mess to clean up here. So I’ll leave you to it.”

With that said he turned to the exit, that damn cape waving behind him, leaving with his same elegant stride.

“Jackass,” she muttered under her breath.


Don’t know what the point in writing this was. Just wanted to get a Drabble out with these two. If anyone wants to see more feel free to message me drabbles cuz I love writing for these guys.