square collar

Commission for Jen for her in-production AU A Little Patience~ I’m excited cuz in this fic neither Dean or Cas are dom/sub they both like to switch~ In this scene they’re both trying on collars and stuff and Cas is all gung-ho about it like “this has to be perfect, Dean, the best” and Dean’s just like “hnrnrhghrhghhhhhhhhh….” *blushy blushy*

You can’t really tell but the metal bolts on the collar are green~ I think Dean’s having a little bit of a tough time closing that clasp……

A Prelude to Love

She was a pale, slender girl, clothed in an almost sheer white gown that flowed as she walked.  But she stepped so lightly, it was as if her feet barely touched the ground at all.  Like a ghost had wandered into my mother’s rose garden.

I called out to her and she turned in surprise.  But instead of fading away, she patted me kindly and kissed my forehead.

Shouldn’t you be in bed, little boy?”

Endymion woke with a start, nearly tumbling out of bed.  He knew that voice, didn’t he?  Slightly embarrassed and still rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Endymion began untangling himself from the sheets. It had been awhile since he’d had such a restless dream.

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dapper gil and an equally as dapper emiya + shirou

Dry cleaning

Requested by a TOP-whipped anon (I know who you are but I’m letting you out yourself)… Hi B! Can I request a TOP smut + daddy kink? Light bdsm is okay if you want, but no collars, whips, etc please. Thank youuu 😘

Originally posted by hell-ogoodbye

Word Count: 1127
Genre: Smut
Warnings: Do not read if you’re underage, please. Come back on your 18th birthday and we can have cake with your smut.

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Of My Dreams: A Morain Fic (1/2)

Rating: T (Will go up in Part II) 

Thanks to my dearest, @highfaelucien for betaing!


“This one or this one?” Mor asks, still in her robe, holding up a dress in each hand. She’s pulled her hair over one shoulder, gleaming gold in the light of the late afternoon sun streaming through the window. It’s just them tonight, since Cassian and Nesta are… busy. Elain has to bite back a smile every time she thinks about her sister and Cassian and their new bond. As soon as Mor had returned that morning, smirking and practically squealing to tell her, Elain had made her pay up, for the bet between them.

But now, since they have the day—and the night—to themselves, they’re going to celebrate their last night in Velaris with a dinner out on the town. Mor insists.

Elain contemplates the dresses and points to the pale dusty pink one, all loosely gathered silk that seems to float to the floor, a low V neck she’s sure will show off exactly what Mor has. As everything seems to do. “That one.”

Mor smiles, amused. “I knew you were going to choose this.”

Elain can’t resist the faint blush that rises to her cheeks, a common occurrence where Mor is concerned. “Am I that predictable?”

Mor’s laugh is bright, like a midday bell, and before Elain can process, she’s leaned forward and kissed Elain’s cheek. Elain catches the heavy floral scent of her perfume, musky now that it’s faded since that morning.  “Familiar, more like.”

Elain lets out a little woosh of breath that has her shifting, ducking her head to smile. Mor has done more to make her smile in the past week than anyone else has managed in her months in the Night Court.

She doesn’t realize that Mor is going to change right there in front of her until she has set both dresses on the bed, undoes the knot on her robe.

“Oh,” Elain squeaks, half in surprise, half in concerned embarrassment, when Mor lets the silk robe drop to the floor and Elain catches a few scraps of discreetly placed cream colored lace before she clasps her hand up to cover her eyes. Is she supposed to look away? Supposed to—

This time, Mor’s laugh is amused and Elain can hear the smile in her voice. “You can look, Elain, I don’t mind.”

Elain swallows, lets her hand drop, and stares into the thick carpet under their feet for a good three seconds before her curiosity gets the better of her and her eyes flick up. Mor is turned around, pushing her hair over her shoulder so it swings down her back, leaning over to find the opening of the skirt to slide it down over her head.

Since she’s turned away, Elain lets her eyes linger even though maybe she shouldn’t… on the dip of Mor’s waist and the wide flare of her hips where her skin softens. She’s wearing a more structured top, something for support, Elain assumes, and there’s a band of lace that curves around her hips, high and fitted enough that they don’t leave much to the imagination, giving way to dramatic curves and soft thighs.

Elain wonders for a brief moment, breath catching when Mor turns slightly, finally getting the dress over her head, what her skin would feel like. What it might taste like.

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So I’m thinking this might be another bespoke liberty of London shirt made around the same time as the one he wore in the duck tails promo.

Note the slightly yellowish buttons on both, and the shallow squared collars.  Neither has breast pockets, and of course they both have the crazy print thing going.  

So I’m thinking same pattern different print.  Which sorta makes sense to me, because it seems like once you’ve gone to the trouble of being fitted, having your measurements taken et. al, it would make sense to have shirts made in a couple of fabrics.

I can’t find the fabric.  But it looks Liberty.  And honestly I’m not too bothered because the blue flowered print was an out of stock print I only happened to get lucky finding still in stock at a secondary seller.

So that’s my best educated guess.  I will of course keep looking.

Sasata Sata - Lady in Red

The rowdy, energetic crowd at the Drowning Wench was both too large and not gullible enough for Sasata’s liking that night. There wasn’t an empty stool or chair in sight, the floor was packed with people waving for more drinks and more girls with less clothes, and the only betting to be had was on the several rowdy roegadyn sailors who had set up a winner-take-all arm wrestling challenge on her usual card table. As small as she was, it was difficult to get the attention of any of the harried barmaids to even get a drink in the throng. When she was almost stepped on for the third time by an elezen sailor attempting to dance while in a drunken stupor, she came to a decision.

There was nothing to be done for it; she was going to have to find a new place to hang out if she wanted to do anything fun.

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