#Winter Wedding Outfits for Women | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

johnpriceslamb · 3 months ago

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— 𝓙𝓐𝓝𝓤𝓐𝓡𝓨

You are to be wedded by the end of the year. Upon travelling, you’re met with a group of pesky bandits.

𝓑𝓔𝓕𝓞𝓡𝓔 𝓨𝓞𝓤 𝓟𝓡𝓞𝓒𝓔𝓔𝓓 : age gap . fem ! reader . afab ! reader . hyper feminine ! reader . reader is mentioned to be physically smaller than chars mentioned in story . reader is in early 20’s . arthur is in late 20’s - early 30’s . fighting scenes . gore . traditional gender stereotypes heavily mentioned .

At the end of the year, you’ll be married off to a man.

Someone strong, handsome, clever, and gentle in heart. You hope.

“Marriage is the ultimate goal for a woman.”

Your corset is tightened by your nanny from behind. The tightness of it makes your breath hitch slightly, hands curling up unconsciously.

In the late winters of 1892, the rolling plains of Lemoyne were no match for nobility. You were dragged along by daddy who was on a grand tour in the west, despite not being keen on the idea. He insisted on seeing the rails and trains he invested in, so you didn’t have much of a choice other than to tag along.

She ushers you to stand up so she could fit the petticoat around your hips. The bands of the voluptuous under-skirt were stretched, allowing you to titter in the large hole and shape your figure again. You’re thankful that it’s a lightweight cotton fabric, considering that all the other layers you adorned added a bit more unnecessary weight to your small frame. Then comes the underskirt, adding another layer of volume and structure.

“If a man stares at you, avoid direct eye contact by using the fan your grandmother has gifted you.” She instructs, remembering the lessons your governess taught you. Her frail hands place the soft, silk evening bodice over your tightened corset. A beautiful little thing which accentuated your curves even more so, kissed with ribbons and flares below the piece.

The burning wood which crackled near the fireplace left a smell around the changing room which you longed for. You’ll be leaving in just a few more minutes, having to face the harsh winter storms outside. You wonder to yourself if the amount of beauty products delicately touched on your face was really worth it, considering that the weather outside will most likely dishevel it. And of course, you’ll be spending most of the day travelling by carriage.

Finally, the skirt. The main part of your outfit. Nanny brushes off the remaining particles on the skirt with her wrinkled hands. You couldn’t help but admire the beautiful little thing, pleated with satin which ended with small bows. She repeats the steps like for the other underskirts, stretching the band, allowing you to step in, and lifting it up to shape your figure.

Upon the stool you sat, you squirm uncomfortably because of the amount of layers you had to wear. She notices, and kisses her tongue.

“A woman should not squirm uncontrollably in their seat.” She hisses, lightly tapping your hands with a ruler as a way to discipline you. “Repeat what I have said.”

A sigh escapes your tinted lips. You hold out your hands.

“Marriage is the ultimate goal for women,” You repeat, “I must not stare back at a man and avoid direct eye contact.”

“Why must you not stare back at a man?” She asks.

You hesitate. The ruler comes down to your skin and places a stinging kiss. You hiss at the pain.

“B-because—” Another hit.

“No stuttering.”

You take a shaky breath, enduring the soft whimper which begs to escape from the bottom of your throat, “Because returning a man’s gaze could interpret as an invitation or a sign of interest.”

“What must you do if they stare?”

“Avoid eye contact by using my grandmothers’ fan.”

“Good.” She nods her head in approval. You place your hands neatly on your lap, looking down to avoid eye contact.

You’re ready to leave as soon as she ties the delicate satin bonnet on your head, ensuring that your face is covered with enough shade provided by the head piece. With the helping hands of the maids in daddy’s manor, all of your luggage was carried to the boot of the carriage. You bid your goodbyes to a few of your selected favourite maids, lightly kissing their cheeks before tittering away.

As soon as you walked outside, you knew that the cold winters of ‘92 would affect you much more than you’d expect. Suddenly, you appreciate the amount of layers you adorned. You could hardly feel the cold winds blowing even if you stuck your head outside the carriage’s openings.

The old man who drives the carriage around hops out of that tall seat in front to open the door and lend a hand for you to enter in. Upon entering in, you can see that there was a small lit candle; your only source of warmth.

You feel really glad for all of the layers.

You vaguely remember daddy boasting about all of the railroads built all over this part of America. ‘The Central Union Railroad’, a camp made up by working men who were in charge of building all railroads— daddy owned that camp. Some parts of you feel grateful for being raised in wealth and comfort, while the remaining parts felt guilty for seeing others having to slave away just to get ends meet.

You’re not convinced that all the men in that camp were capable of working. You’ve seen a good litter of youths labouring here and there. You pitied them greatly but alas: you were a woman. The most you could do was provide them more food rations and safety gear.

But as time slowly passed by, you’ve noticed the laws overseeing the amount of child labour happening in businesses. Daddy wasn’t too happy seeing a slight decline of workers in his company, nevertheless it did make your lips curl up a bit.

You’re not particularly interested in watching the railroads daddy invests and funded in, only because your thoughts immediately go back to the amount of workers that barely get payed to slave away in building these roads.

On the other hand, it was also how you’re able to sleep in a large manor everyday.

The roads slowly turned more bumpy and rough when leaving Lemoyne territory. You’re quite surprised that your carriage hasn’t been robbed considering the amount of warnings of raiders being littered across this part of territory. Your beady eyes boredly peer out of the windows of the carriage, watching the distant white-tipped evergreen trees pass by.

There wasn’t much to do other than watch nature unfold or perhaps pester the driver. You’d rather the former since you don’t even know the drivers name.

You can still feel the stings from that stupid ruler your nanny punished you with. They catch onto the fabric, which makes you twitch a bit at the abrupt pain. The more bumpier the road was, the more it caught on.

It’s been a few hours since you’ve left home. If you remembered correctly, you’d be arriving to a town somewhere in Chicago. You peak out to the driver up front, politely asking him what the time was. You left during the early hours of the morning, and you could see the sun rise much more.

His warm, honey-dew tipped voice replies back with a frail ‘9 in the morning’. Just a few more hours until they’ve reach to Chicago. Maybe even another day is to be filled with travelling.

You can’t help but sigh, “Could we take a break and rest somewhere in a few hours time?”

The old man hums, “We may, if that is what you wish.”

You smile sweetly. Of course, being told no was quite foreign to you. “Thank you kindly.”

You rest back onto the velvety cushions, heaving out another deep sigh. You look out of the openings again, and for the first time in a few months you lay eyes upon a long stretch of natural snowy land. It’s a vast difference between the usual scenery you’d see back in Lemoyne. There was no puffs of dark grey smoke in the sky, the heavy scent of engines and oil running wasn’t to be smelt, the bellowing of officers directing a crowd, no city life around.

Sometimes you’d see a few run-down stables with a few animals. Other times you’d just see landmarks with just the never-ending cold covering in it. On one occasion around noon, you saw a dead animal with its bones protruding out. Your nose scrunches up at the sight before looking away to the other opening of the carriage. Not much of a difference in scenery.

You tinker your lashes out of boredom, now playing with the satin-tipped bows on your bodice. The travel becomes much slower and difficult because of the amount of snow which catches onto the wheels of the carriage. It’s excruciatingly difficult to be entertained in these types of situations, considering that you left your novels back at home. You scoot back to the front seat of the carriage, peaking out to the man who lead the vehicle.

“May we please take a stop over there?” You ask with a shy smile, gesturing towards the small town from afar. You wonder if there’s any pastry stores nearby. The last time you ate was a few hours ago, a bowl of porridge and a few thin slices of bread. The man acknowledges your polite request with a gruff.

There’s been a bit of a food problem because of the cold winter, more snow meant less crops being able to grow and lesser animals being produced. You’ve been stuck on porridge and bread for a while now, and you’re hoping that it’ll change.

Once the driver stopped near the town, you’re greeted with the wind yet again. You unconsciously curl inward to protect yourself from the cold, peering at the people who lived in this little area. It’s humble, isolated, quiet.

Cold. Too cold.

You take a few steps, the bottoms of your shoes caked with snow. The man beside you takes ahold of your arm in case of any danger which falls upon you. He coughs a bit when the air hits his lungs. You pity him, asking if he needed a hot cup of tea or anything of the sorts to get him to warm up again.

His old eyes light up at the mention of tea.

“You mustn’t fret over me, my lady.” He whispers lowly.

“I insist.”

He takes a slow breath before sighing. “ If you must.”

Another pause to take a deep breath, “Your attitude is nothing like your father’s.”

You quirk a brow, “Pardon?”

He grabs onto your arm for support, mindlessly dawdling. “It’s a shame that you’ll be married off soon. When you see potential candidates during this trip, take a look at his attributes rather than his looks.”

What?

You tilt your head, “I thought this trip was a tour around the West.”

He grunts slightly, flinching a bit. “Perhaps I’ve spoken too much.”

Before you utter out another word of disbelief, you’re met with a click of a gun.

“Another step from either one of ye’,” A hoarse voice from behind grumbles like a predator, “One of yer head’s gon’ be rollin’.”

You’ve never been in situations like these before. Your nerves are getting to you. A soft sob escapes from your mouth as the tip of the gun threatens to puncture the back of your head. Your hands are immediately up in defence, beady eyes staring back at the frail man who could not do anything but mimic your actions.

You croak, “Please, sir. We don’t have anything valuable for you—”

Many more of them pop up. As if a litter of ants come and pour, the man behind scoffs before kicking your knees to buckle and kneel on the floor.

“Bullshit,” He snarls, “Look at what yer wearing. Pretty lil’ thing like ye’ ought to have somethin’ hidin’ under that skirt of yers.”

“What do we do with this one, boss?” One of them knocks the nozzle of his gun into the old man’s head. An old wail of pain escapes him, and your eyes water even more as you helplessly look around.

“Get rid of ‘em.”

“Wait, please! Don’t harm him! He hasn’t done anything wrong!” You sob, trying to reach out for him— only to be held back by these bandits, “No- stop, stop!”

The man who holds you back cackles, mocking your high-pitched pleas and sobs. The old man is knocked out with another blow to the head with the end of the bandit’s gun. You could see the back of his head starting to bleed.

“I’m telling you, a pretty girl like ‘er would sell real well in the markets.”

“How much do you think we could make?”

Another tug on your bodice gets you to raggedly gasp. Before your eyes peer to the Heavens above and beg for mercy, bullets from afar ring past and alert the others. You can hear gallops of multiple horses coming your way, and a heap of other outlaws.

“Shit, ‘s the Van Der Linde Gang!” The leader of the group- who currently holds you captive in his arms, yells at his group to gun them down. A bullet zooms past and catches onto his shoulder which allows you wiggle away and squirm to hide.

With the remaining strength you had, you drag the driver’s unconscious body with you and behind a barrel. He’s cold, everything is cold, you’re cold.

He’s dead.

The impact of the gun’s end must of cracked his skull. Tears pour down your beauty-tinted face, mustering up quiet prayers for him. Bullets are the only thing you can hear, accompanied with loud bellows and curses.

You have never in your life witnessed anything like this before.

You peak from the barrel, watching the man who gunned your driver down drops dead to the floor from one bullet which hits his head. Another array of shots are fired, and soon enough the litter of bandits are all gone.

Your ears perk when you hear them converse lowly, “Who the hell were those guys?”

“I don’t know, son. John, you ‘n Bill find supplies ‘round this town. Rob, steal, or be law abiding citizens— I don’t care. Just get as much as you can.”

You stifle a soft sob at the rowdiness. The man who was recently talking hears your soft whimper, before wondering over to you and crouching down.

“Arthur,” He seems to be calling for one of his men. He looks like he was born from wealth like you were. His clothes are tinted with jewellery and his vest looked like red velvet fur, “Come over here ‘n escort this girl!”

He lends you a hand. He sees the hesitation in those eyes of yours which lead him to a more softer approach.

When his eyes focus onto your face, he squints. He sizes you up and down quickly, the clothing you adorned clearly catching his attention. “Oh, you poor thing.”

Your small hands are held firmly by his as he hoists you up. Burdened with trauma and shock, you could only hear him murmur soft words of encouragement. You see a younger man strolling towards him, only for him to blink in surprise when seeing you.

There was something about him which sparked your interest greatly.

He scratches at his light stubble, barely visible yet. His breath seemed to hitch at the first sight of you.

“Can she talk?”

The other man who holds you closely scoffs, “‘Course she can. She’s just shocked.”

“Huh. Okay. What do we do with her?”

The man looks at you, “Hm. What’s your name, miss?”

You sniffle a bit, shakily replying with a meek babble of your name.

“Lovely to meet you, my dear. Dutch. Dutch Van Der Linde.” He squeezes your shoulder a bit, “Where were you last heading to before.. all of this?”

“Ch— Chicago,” You stutter, either from the cold or from the scene which unfolded beneath your very eyes.

“Damn.. That’s a long way away.” The man who eyed you with interest mumbles, not taking his kind eyes away from you.

You stare back of course.

Some sort of spark in you flared up.

He could feel it too.

“We ought to take her back to camp. She doesn’t seem like she’s in good condition.” Dutch makes you step forward out to Arthur, who grabs you and hoists you in his arms and to his horse, a soft grumble of annoyance escaping his lips, before murmuring a low ‘up you go, girl.’

“When she’s settled enough, we’ll ride ‘er to Chicago. We’re headin’ north aren’t we?”

“Indeed we are.”

“Not much of a problem, then.”

You needily paw at him before he could settle you on the large saddle of his horse, “W-wait but my luggages..”

He quirks a brow at you, “What about it?”

You meekly look around, stammering. “I need it. ‘s— ‘s important, I just—”

He cuts you off, “Where is it?”

You gesture to the carriage from afar. You watch his built figure stroll down thataway to retrieve them. You’re still surprised that the bandits from earlier didn’t manage to spot it. But nevertheless, you profusely thanked him before he left to go grab it from the boot.

You watch Dutch’s other men grab your old driver’s body and sling it on the back of their horse, probably to bury it somewhere. You deeply thank them in your mind, only for a chuckle to interrupt your thoughts.

“The boy’s smitten, Hosea! Look at ‘im,” The man who found you nudged an older looking man’s shoulder, pointing to his bulky figure which held onto your absurdly large luggages, “Never did that with any of the other men we saved. Didn’t even protest when I said that we’re bringing her back to camp.”

Dutch titters to you with that beautiful stallion of his. You couldn’t help but envy at how gorgeous that mane was. You remember back home your horses were used for training and educating rather than for show. “You’ll be staying with us for a while until we can get you on your feet again.”

You slowly nod, sniffling a bit. You rub your arms for comfort, hoping that they won’t do anything funny to you, “Th—thank you..”

Hosea— if you recalled, only looked at you with eyes as warm as the fireplace back home. He pitied you too, but in a sense that wasn’t belittling like how Dutch pitied you.

Arthur grunts as he heaves the luggages on the back of his horse, securing it with some rope to not make it fall. He mounts from the left and settles behind you, before kicking his spurs gently which makes his horse start walking in a slow pace.

A comforting hand is placed on your shoulder. He leans in a bit and murmurs, “You’re safe with us.”

#hubby morgan #opposites attract #fem! reader #arthur morgan #rdr2 x you #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan x fem! you #arthur morgan x reader #afab! reader #arthur morgan x fem! reader #rdr2 #january

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blackmoonlightexpress · 1 year ago

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TTEOTM Easter Eggs Part 3 - Costume and Makeup Details

I love beautiful costumes, but even more when they tell a story! Here are a few of my observations. Did you spot anything else? (Spoilers!)

(1) The two outfits Ye Xiwu gifted Tantai Jin are both quilted. The purple costume is particularly unusual in that it's constructed like a blanket. In contrast, all his clothing in the hostage prince arc are not quite thick enough for Sheng kingdom's harsh winters. Ye Xiwu is literally bringing warmth to his life.

(2) TTJ and YXW wear similar costumes in their two love scenes - (1) Ep 2 - YXW's imagination of the drugged affair which led to their marriage and (2) Ep 39, where they finally consummated their marriage on screen. YXW wears the same pink costume. TTJ in different but identical-looking mustard yellow costumes.

(3) Some viewers have criticized Ye Xiwu for not taking off hair accessories before going to bed, chalking it up to lazy filmmaking. This is not necessarily the case. In ancient China, upper class women did sleep with their hair-do and manage to keep elaborate designs in tack. How? By resting her neck, not her head, on the pillow.

Ye Xiwu / Li Susu does go without hair accessories in a few occasions: when she is traveling, ill, depressed, and in mourning. It is most likely a creative choice to create a contrast between moments where her character is in control and powerful vs. vulnerable.

(4) All of Tantai Jin's female lieutenants wear red, from Pianran (after she starts working for him) to Siying and Monu. In fact, so does Tantai Minglang's lieutenant Fuyu. Red appears to be the career woman's color in this world!

(5) After Mingye falls in love with Sangjiu, he adds the red waist scarf belt that's part of his wedding dress on top of his normally blue outfit.

(6) The costume that Cang Jiumin (left) wears when refining the Dragonheart Shield echoes Mingye's costume (right) through the red/blue colors and collar design, reinforcing the connection between the two characters.

(7) The costumes in Bo're dream hint at the characters' true forms:

Mingye (dragon): dragonscale armour & patterned clothing

Sangjiu & Sangyou (clams): pearls & shell motifs

Tianhuan (snake): gold serpent hair crown & bracelets

(8) Throughout the drama, only characters in the Upper Immortal Realm go full Dunhuang Feitian style, characterized by bandeaus, scarves, layers of drapery, sleeveless (similar to Indian clothing).

The style is used in formal occasions or to confer power or godliness. For example, Sangjiu goes Dunhuang with sleeveless draping outfits at her wedding and after she goes dark.

Similarly, when Susu and Tantai Jin become gods at the finale, they also take on a new Dunhuang-style outfit. In fact, the multi-color drapery of Tantai Jin's outfit seem to be an amalgamation of the fabric used in the twelve gods' outfits.

(9) Members of the Moon Tribe all wear long wavy hair, chunky metal and coin ornaments, and hair braiding.

Tantai Jin follows the dress code when he stays with the Moon Tribe before entering the spiritual dimension.

Guess who also loves his wavy hair, metallic accessories, and leather? Of course it's the Ancient Devil God, again reminding viewers of his connection to the tribe.

Bonus: Luo Yunxi mentioned in an interview that his characters (hostage prince, emperor, Mingye, Devil Gods) all have different hairpieces/wigs. He had to take off and reglue his hair between scenes.

#till the end of the moon #luo yunxi #black moonlight holds the be script #cdrama #chang yue jin ming #chinese drama #tteotm #tantai jin #bai lu #ye xiwu #mingye #sangjiu

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harryforvogue · 1 year ago

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hello welcome back to me writing out some ideas that will never become actual full stories. this was super fun because i've never written the bodyguard trope. i won't be writing more for this, but isn't this so fun???? hope you like it! (if the French is wrong, that's on me) 2.5k idk

***

France, 1843.

The tavern will do for the night.

It’s inconspicuous, a perfect hiding spot. In fact, now that she’s been in her room for the past three hours, it’s safe to say that if anyone were to come looking for her, they’d be long gone by now. That’s why she changes into a fresh outfit (provided by the very nice hostess who got teary eyed by the story she made up.) She’s now in a simple dress, much better than the other outfit. After all, it would be weird to be traipsing around in a wedding dress.

Her family went all in for the dress too. She’s going to hold on to it, see how much money she can make from it.

She comes down the stairs quietly. At nearly sunset time, the bar is starting to get crowded. She can definitely get mixed into the wave of people, giving her more cover. She expected several people to come in around this time anyways. Despite it being 4 in the afternoon, the winter allows for the sun to retreat earlier. The visibility outside must be terrible, and with a snowstorm on top of that, the only people coming into the tavern will be loyal customers and those sheltering from the weather.

Of course, her family is too highly opinionated to stop at a measly little tavern like this.

She skips off the last step and looks around. She's picked an excellent spot.

When she sits at the bar, it takes only a minute for the bartender to catch her eye. “Une bière.”

He retreats to pour her drink, and then slides it across the wooden bar.

She catches it and smiles sweetly at him. Then relaxes into her seat and listens to the music.

What a disaster of a day. The whole town will be talking about it tomorrow: the runaway bride. Well, maybe not this town. No, this place is smaller, and less wealthy. They care little for the problems of the rich folk.

The minutes pass by in silence and peace. That is, until the bartender comes by with another drink that she definitely did not ask for.

“Ça vient du monsieur,” the man says.

She looks over to where he's gesturing.

Sitting at the end of the bar is a man she’s all too familiar with. His curls aren’t wet with snow, nor are his clothes, which suggest he’s been here for a long time. Has he been waiting for her out? Did he follow her the moment she left the chapel, or was it that his guess was just correct? Pure luck maybe. Regardless of the how, what matters is that he knows where she is, and he answers her scowl with a smile of his own, lifting his glass in the air as if to toast her attempts at escaping him.

“Merci,” she grits to the bartender. She turns back to her drink, trying to come up with a plausible story before Harry makes his way over. The thirty seconds it takes Harry to show up, though, is simply not enough.

He sits on the vacant seat beside her. He slides his mug over and lightly taps hers. “Fear not,” he says in English, grinning with his dimples on full display, “I’m here alone.”

Harry’s been her guard for several years. He’s young, barely 3 or 4 years older than her. He rarely speaks with her, but he’s always there when she goes out, even when she’s with her fiancé. He was posted with her years ago when her father gained some political opposition, out of fear she’d get in harm’s way. Thanks to Harry, that’s never happened.

Suffice to say, she’s less than happy to see him here.

Normally, he’s a nice face to look at. All handsome and diligent. He stands nearly half a foot taller than her, always dressed in nearly all black. He has women fainting over him. She, too, can admire his beauty.

But she’s not going to tell him that.

“As if an army of my father’s men would frighten me,” she replies back.

“Aren’t you glad to see me? Out of all the guards that could have been here searching for the runaway bride, aren’t you happy that it’s me and not another?”

“I’d be more happy to see my fiancé.”

Harry raises an eyebrow. “Is he still your fiancé?”

“I mean, I still have the ring on my finger.”

“Would have figured you’d pawned it off by now.”

She narrows her eyes at him. “Are you going to force me to go back? Because let me tell you, I’m going to put up a fight. I will scream bloody murder if you touch me.”

Harry looks amused now. He rests his chin on his palm.

“That is quite a plan. It’s easy to see how you could be so creative about running away too. Let’s talk about it because I do feel the need to give you kudos, mademoiselle. Not only did you persuade your father to have a winter wedding, but you also picked out the most expensive fabrics and gems for your big day. You convince your fiancé that you love him and then leave him in the church where everyone is supposed to witness a holy union. You thoroughly humiliated him. Excellent scheming.”

He actually does seem impressed.

She doesn’t say anything.

“And to answer your question,” he continues. “I don’t plan on forcing you to go back. In fact, I was actually anticipating this.”

“Anticipating this, how?” She doesn’t want to be on the defense, but he’s acting strange. Too comfortable.

He rolls his head back and looks at her incredulously. “You may not see me at all times, but as your guard, I do keep my eyes on you. And it’s a wonder how other people didn’t notice. The way your smile dropped at the mere mention of him, the way you had to leave the room with a pitiful excuse every time he showed up. The way you refused to let him kiss you after he very kindly walked you home all the time. Almost difficult to watch.”

She feels her face burn. “You’re not supposed to spy on me.”

“That is my job. I get paid for it, so I might as well be thorough, no?” He’s smiling again.

“All those things mean nothing. It was a last minute decision to run away.” She tilts her head back and finishes her ale.

“Ah, that I know. It was the most surprising part when you didn’t show up. I knew you would pull something like this, make an excuse of some kind. I anticipated that – but I didn’t anticipate it happening on your wedding day.”

“I wasn’t going to wait for an annulment. Don’t know if that would even be possible. And who'd want to marry me after that anyways. Running away was my best option.”

“He’s absolutely distraught, by the way. He’d be very unhappy if he knew we were talking like this. We’ve become friends of some sort.”

“Why would he be upset about us speaking?”

The incredulous look comes back. “It pains me that you don’t know how jealous your little fiancé is. You have such little awareness.”

“Jealous?” She suddenly laughs. “Oh please. As if he has anything to be jealous about.”

Harry finishes his drink and then orders another round for them. As he does, she takes him in. He’s in his black vest, white long sleeved shirt, with an undone white cravat, his jacket tucked away somewhere in the bar. He taps his perfectly polished boots against the floor, pristine black trousers fitting nicely around his strong thighs. His trousers are always perfectly fitted, unlike the rest of her guards. Or maybe she’s just spent a lot of time looking at him.

“He has plenty to be jealous about, mademoiselle.”

“All my attention has been on wedding planning and such for weeks now. I haven’t had the chance to even talk to another man.”

He glances back at her when she’s looking down at his thighs. He’s silent for a moment, but then says quietly, “Not all jealousy has to come from interacting with a man. It could just be from the way you look at one.”

Her eyes jump back to his face. His eyes are narrowed as if trying to figure her out. “He has nothing to be jealous about,” she repeats.

“He doesn’t?”

“As horrible of a woman I am for leaving a man at his own wedding, I’m not the type of woman to betray him, even though I don’t feel any particular affection for him. I respect him and myself.”

“I don’t think it has anything to do with respect, mademoiselle. It’s about desire. After all, you should desire the man you’re marrying, is that not true?”

“Yes, and that’s why I’ve run away.”

“And if you were to desire someone else, it wouldn’t be betrayal, given you’re no longer his intended.”

He says it so casually, but she sees the way his eyes slip down to her mouth for a brief second.

“I still have the ring.”

He glances at her hand. “Will you keep it?”

“Not planning on it.”

“And until then, you’ll stay faithful to a man you have no intention of marrying? Forgive me, I can’t seem to make sense of this logic.”

She thinks about how much she should tell him. He’s had it figured out, it seems. Maybe she wasn’t as good at hiding her true feelings about the union. Or maybe Harry’s just watched her too closely.

She says, “Are you really not going to take me back?”

Harry shakes his head. “What good would that do?”

“My father would appreciate it.”

“Your father has overlooked many things that I think have been worth appreciating over the span of my career as your dutiful guard, mademoiselle.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Harry doesn’t say anything. He simply watches her, as if she’ll understand him just from his expression. She doesn’t.

“Tell me,” she demands.

“I’ve done things that deserve recognition, that is all.”

“Like what?”

He narrows his eyes. “Like keeping you alive for the past four years, you ungrateful wench. With all the stupid decisions you make on a daily basis, I should actually be getting a fucking medal for managing to keep all your limbs in tact.”

The way he says it is so sudden and harsh, she can’t help but laugh.

“Funny, is it?” he grumbles.

“Hilarious. So, what type of recognition would you even have liked for keeping me alive?”

“It doesn't matter now, I think. Surely I’ll lose my job for not getting to you in time and bringing you back.”

She sits up straighter. “If I were to be brought back, what do you think you’d deserve for it?”

He sighs. “I shouldn't say.”

“I want to know.”

“You’ll hate me.”

She smiles real wide. “So what?"

He contemplates it for a moment. Finishes his second drink and then drums his fingers on the bar top. His knee gently brushes against her skirts beneath the table. “Did you know that before your father picked him to marry you, he had one of the other guards draft a list of eligible men?”

Her expression sours. “There was a list? How disappointing.”

“Mhm. It wasn’t a very long one.”

“What does this have to do with my question?”

He looks at her, unblinking. “If I were to bring you back to your father, and you still had to marry, I would like to be considered on that list.”

Everything falls away. Her smile drops, and her heart beats hard in her ears. Harry doesn’t look away from her, watching every expression take over her face. Surprise, worry, and then…

“Oh.”

The corner of his mouth twists. “Right. And a part of me wishes I’d throw you over my shoulder and drag you back to him. Just to be considered, even for a mere moment. Long enough for there to be a mental image of you and I at the altar in your father’s head. I’d be pleased with even a mere thought if it’s the only time we'd ever be together. But that wouldn’t be fair, would it?”

“No.” Though the thought of being draped over that shoulder is more than enough to get her knee bouncing under the table. Her leg jostles his.

“And of course,” he says, smiling tightly, “you are loyal to your man because of that ring.”

They both look down at the gem. It gleams in the light.

Harry’s eyes dart back up to hers. He watches her for several long seconds before he reaches out.

With slow movements, he takes her hand. “Unless…” he murmurs, resting her hand on top of his knee. He gently twists the ring off her finger and drops it into his pocket. She keeps her hand on his leg.

Could he be trying to get her to make a move? She’ll be truly guilty if she advances first, but he doesn’t seem to be pulling away either. She holds her breath.

What she ends up saying is, “You said that as my guard, you’ve always needed to keep your eyes on me.”

“Yes.” His gaze is heavy. Dark.

“Even when I didn’t need you to?”

“I always looked out for you. I always will. It’s become second nature to me.”

That makes her feel a certain way. A way she’s never felt in her life. Her breath catches.

"You do deserve something for that," she says softly. She carefully squeezes his leg, right above his knee.

His jaw visibly tenses.

Harry leans in, and this is when she realizes he’s moving first. He takes a hold of her chin and tilts it up, eyebrows drawn together as if he’s really trying his best to stay away but can’t. He brings his head down. He whispers her name and her body caves, leaning into him.

For the first time in her life, she's excited about kissing a man. Her impatience suddenly surpasses the limit. She puts her other hand on his knee and pushes herself upwards to meet his kiss.

Just before his mouth touches hers, the bartender returns with a gruff, “Il est tout à fait inapproprié de le faire ici. Allez dans votre chambre.”

Harry pulls away, just barely, and looks down at her through his eyelashes. He keeps a hold on her face. “Shall we?” he asks her, ignoring the bartender.

She swallows roughly. His eyes are drenched with desire, her heart pounding away in her chest. She licks her lips, enjoying the way he follows the movement.

He whispers, “I’ll be nice, darling.”

Excitement spreads through her like wildfire. She balls her hands into fists and takes a deep breath. “Come.”

He smiles then, and it takes her aback. As he stands, he genuinely looks pleased. Relieved even. As if he’s been waiting for this chance. He takes her hand and tells her to lead him to her room.

And when he presses her against her door, hands tangled in her hair, a searing kiss placed onto her mouth, she realizes this is what it’s supposed to feel like.

#we've been talking so much about marriage of course i had to write about a runaway bride #the guard au is fun #dunno why i've always stayed away from it #harry styles fic #harry styles au #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing

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itmeansiris · 2 months ago

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The Solar System Legacy Challenge: Shopping Spree Gen 1 pt.80

When the group of women and Dite left to go shopping Kiersten and M joked the whole trip about going to the Brindelton Bridal shop to find bridesmaid dresses and fit Winter for a wedding dress. Winter protested the whole way. She'd even threatened to seal their feet to the ground with magic if they so much as set foot in the store.

Instead, they headed for the Halloween store to find costumes for the Spooky Day party. Inside, Winter and M immediately started trying on outfit's. Kiersten walked around with Dite looking but not trying anything on as M and Winter posed in front of the shop's many mirrors.

Winter: Check it out. I'm an angel.

M laughed wrapping her arms around Winter's shoulder.

M: You might be growing an angel but you sure as hell aren't one. Nice touch with the white wings, when did you learn to do that?

Winter: A trick I learned while training Adrianne on wing control.

Dite raced over hardly able to contain her excitement.

Aphrodite: Mom I think Kiersten found the perfect costumes for you guys. Hurry, Come see!

M and Winter changed out of their ridiculous costumes and headed over to the mannequins where Kiersten and Aphrodite were waiting. When they got closer M realized what they were looking at and Winter gasped.

Winter: I knew we were going to be good friends.

M: Wait. There are only 5. What about you and Rufus?

Kiersten looked at her a little sheepishly.

Kiersten: Rufus and I already have our costumes. Sorry M, we've been planning them since we got our invite in the mail.

M: It's okay. Me, Kason, Winter, Peyton. We need someone to wear the last one.

Winter: I have someone in mind.

With the costume debacle settled, they yanked the costumes from the rack and quickly checked out. Having fulfilled their immediate shopping needs Kiersten headed home. She'd gotten a text from Rufus and the boys but promised to come over to M's tomorrow to hang out again. Her and Winter shared a hug before she took off.

The rest of the group wandered the mall for a while. Winter eventually veered off, stopping in a maternity store while M and Aphrodite took a couple of graceless laps around the indoor ice-skating rank.

M eventually bowed out having spotted Winter at one of the café tables. Not wanting to risk further injury, on shaky legs, she half walked, half skated towards the exit hugging the rails closely. Aphrodite, ever the perfectionist, was determined to master the ice so she stayed a little longer.

M: Sweetie, I'll be over at the table with Auntie Winter. When you're ready we can head to the equine store.

Mercury joined Winter at the small table, the café was void of other patrons, likely due to the light snowfall that had begun outside. Winter was fiddling with a small grey box that had a clear screen and something floating inside.

M: What is that thing?

Winter: Stupid physic box they gave me with my purchase at the maturity store. Seems like a pretty useless thing to give to an expecting mother.

M: Or a spellcaster for that matter.

Winter tucked the toy away in one of her shopping bags and turned her attention back to M. The café started to fill up around them and a waiter approached.

Waiter: Hello ladies. Can I get you anything?

They politely declined. The waiter smiled and moved on to the next table greeting them with the same warm tone and bright smile to match her floral attire.

M: So are you gonna tell me when you found out you were having baby number four was it?

Winter groaned resting her head in her hand, yet she was smiling.

Winter: When you say it like that it sounds sorta crazy. We knew since your dads funeral. I was kind of suspicious, my magic was starting to stir without good reason.

M: How did Peyton take the news? I never imagined him a father of four though I guess I never imagined you with four kids either

Winter: He took it as well as the other three times honestly. He hardly blinked an eye. He just smiled and went on like it was a normal day.

M: He's grown up so much in the last 10 years. It's amazing to see who he's become.

Winter: Look at you all smiley and happy. You would never believe there was a demon terrorizing your life.

Mercury's smile didn't fade. She sat forward, arms resting on the table, and stared at them with a hint of sadness.

M: I'm just happy to see you is all. It's been far too long, I need to make it my business to come and see you more. Now that Zoh's a toddler he can handle the ride to San Myshuno.

Winter: Newcrest.

She corrected. M shook her head and huffed.

M: Right, Newcrest. It's so strange, you guys not living in the city.

Winter: It was weird at first but the kids love it and it's a better space for them to practice their magic freely without someone getting hurt or something getting broken.

M saw Aphrodite approaching, so she stood.

M: Well San Myshuno or Newcrest I'm coming to see you.

Winter stood and hugged her friend.

Winter: Don't be so hard on yourself. I'm not saying don't come but cut yourself some slack. You've been where I'm headed and traveling with 4 small kids would have been a disaster. It made since for us to travel to you. I love you Mercury.

M: Come on. I promised Dite we would go to High Horse Fashion.

Winter: Violionist and a horse wrangler. I wonder where she got that from? Spirit maybe?

M chucked and shrugged her shoulders as they headed for the door.

M: I have no clue.

Aphrodite pushed the large barn-like doors open and darted inside ahead of her mother and aunt. She ran over to the far wall staring at all the equipment lining the shelves.

M: Dite don't run in the store, please.

Winter: I'll look over here.

M stood behind her daughter when she broached an interesting question

Aphrodite: Hey mom do you think I can start getting an allowance?

M: I don't see why not. Any particular reason you're asking now?

Aphrodite pointed up at a coat hanging high on the wall.

Aphrodite: I want to buy that coat.

M smiled ever surprised by how Dite displayed her growing maturity.

M: Absolutely kiddo. Now I think we should find your riding clothes.

Instead of heading home after they finished their shopping spree, Winter suggested they hit the bowling lanes not ready to end the day. When they arrived Dite went upstairs to the kid's arcade where she would likely play Don't Wake the Llama as opposed to an actual arcade game. Winter and M checked in at the desk retrieving the overly used standard red and blue blowing shoes but never put them on. They sat by their assigned lane never bowling a single round, They sat talked losing track of time until Aphrodite complained she was ready to go home.

Winter spent the night with M. Kason always the gentlemen, offered up his place in bed and agreed to sleep downstairs on the sofa for the night. Winter tucked in that night thrilled at the time they spent with her closest friend but slightly relieved that she would be reunited with her husband and children in a few hours.

Previous Next

Beginning

Builds

Gallery ID: Abaybay514 High Horse Fashion is a retail 30x20 lot

Gallery ID: Mandykay77 Halloween Costume Shop is a retail 40x30 lot

Gallery ID: keongemini1 Brindelton Bay Mall is a retail 64x64 lot

Poses

@ratboysims sitting emotions & Parent and kid poses

@simcredibledesigns shopping bags

@plazasims Halloween set

Mods

@littlemssam Allowance Mod

#sims 4 #sims 4 gameplay #sims 4 screenshots #sims 4 legacy #sims 4 story #solar system legacy challenge #itmeansiris #gen 1

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ramayantika · 2 years ago

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Iconic Bollywood women but make it aesthetic

Madhubala

Writes letters, silver jhumke, light coloured flowy kurtis, reads poetry, loves jalebis, has the most beautiful smile, gentle soul, doesn't know how many people fall for her, loves children, moon gazing, dreams of living in an haveli, night time existential crisis, wants to twirl in a white anarkali while someone showers marigold petals, black and white Bollywood movies, falls in loves deeply, stores every small memoir of her friends and loved ones.

Rekha

Desi dark feminine energy, has the most updated wardrobe, blessed with wit and sarcasm, center of attention in a room full of people, best dressed, piercing eyes that gaze deep into your soul, laughs loud and hard, silk sarees, gajra in her hair and wrists, walks like a queen, rarely posts on social media, highly intimidating, eats the spiciest pani puri/gupchup/golgappa, Miss Popular, will turn you breathless with a side glance.

Sridevi

Literal embodiment of sunshine but hides her inner feelings, secretly in love with a boy in her neighbourhood, wears colouful bindis and juttis, has learnt singing and dancing, loves sitting beside ponds and rivers, possesses mischevious eyes, you can never be angry on her, can transform into an outspoken diva within seconds, acts like a heroine in her room or when home alone.

Madhuri

Has a proper skin care routine, loves chocolates, loves eating achaar, light lipsticks, the most graceful in the room, fake scenarios expert, blushes easily, hates waking up early, plant mother, loves playing with puppies, makes birthday cards for everyone, breezy outfits, has the best thumkas to rock a wedding sangeet, warm hugs and forehead kisses.

Aishwarya

Owns too many sarees and desi outfits, gold jewellery, perfectionist, artist but chose science, loves reading about history, philosophy and space, a hidden genius, your school/college crush, can and will beat you in a debate, gajra supremacy, has a pretty voice, should be a model, loves winter, holds hands under the bench, winks and steals your heart.

I know there and many more but abhi ke liye itna hi? Plij! Also do tell who else do you want to see so I can post them in the other parts.

#samridhi speaks #desiblr #types of girls #desi aesthetic #bollywood #aesthetic

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swissboyhisch · 1 year ago

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First Date to First Dance

Pairing: Nathan Bastian x Reader

Summary: A song followed you through your relationship with Nathan, from first date to first dance.

Word Count: 3245

Warnings: Use of Y/N once. Mentions of love, some mentions of a wedding dress and other of nudity. I didn't look up his sister's name, I couldn't find it so I just did a random name. Also swearing.

A/N: This is for the lovely @shinyfalcon4 who is my Hockey Girlies Christmas Fic exchange buddy! I really hope you love this because I loved writing this. @mp0625 for the masterlist :) also unedited so soz for any mistakes.

THE MASTERLIST JOIN THE TAGLIST HOCKEY DISCORD

Never could be sweeter than with you

Finally, winter break came around and your family was preparing for their annual Christmas Party. It was an all day long list of preparations your mother had perfected over the years. Your family’s closest friends, along with some of the Neighbours, were all invited to yours for a fun evening of food and drinking.

Your mother called you into the kitchen where she was preparing a chicken to go into the oven. “Can you be a sweetheart and get the oven door for me?”

“Sure Ma.” You turned to do as she asked before closing it once the food was in. “Do you need help with anything?”

“If you could make your gingerbread fudge, that would be fantastic. Everyone always asks for the recipe.”

The apron was handed to you. A patchwork of different Christmas fabrics your grandmother had made for you when you became old enough to help with the Christmas baking. Just like it was tradition on Christmas Eve in your family. The women of your family prepare the large dinner and things for lunch the following day.

When you finished your fudge and it was in the fridge chilling, you double-checked with your mum she didn’t need any more help before finding your father and older brother out the front. The pair were setting up the Christmas lights. Due to work, neither hadn’t gotten around to setting them up before today.

“Hey jellybean,” Your dad grinned when he spotted you rugged up in your winter coat.

“Need any help?”

Your brother threw a snowball at you. Right at your face.

“You bitch! Josh, I’m going to kill you.”

“Language,” Your dad chuckled as you took off to chase your brother around.

You were soon sent inside for being a distraction to your brother. With your mum all good in the kitchen and your dad and brother nearly finished with the Christmas lights, you decide to start getting ready. You had a couple hours but why not get ready early. It meant you'd be ready by the time the Bastian family arrived.

A pair of new jeans and your favourite, most cozy, Christmas sweater was the outfit choice. Paired with a red clip in your hair to keep your hair out of your face. Simple but cute outfit. By the time you were ready, you heard the doorbell ring through the halls of your home. There was only one guess needed for who was here early. Your neighbours.

“I’ll get it!” You shout as you race to the door.

The door swung open to reveal the Bastian family. Nate stood with his older siblings, Nick and Natalie, and his parents. All dressed in festive outfits.

“Welcome, come in!”

As each member passed you, you got a hug. Leaving Nate till last. The pair of you grinned, sharing a hug before closing the door and retreating to your room. There was still another hour until the rest of the guests would most likely arrive.

“So I was thinking that we could sneak out and go for a drive to look at Christmas lights,” Nate suggested as he took in what you were wearing. It was like you were glowing.

“Really?”

It wasn’t a secret that you loved Christmas. Your favourite part was going for a drive around your city to look at the lights. Usually Nick, Natalie and your brother would take you two with them for their annual drive. But this year, both you and Nate had gotten your license.

Nate blushed, “Yeah, I’ll drive. You can sit in the passenger seat with a blanket and hot chocolate. I’ll even let you choose the music.”

“That sounds amazing! Oh my, a perfect night.”

“A perfect first date?” The boy in front of you asked shyly. His voice trailing off more with every syllable.

“A date?” You whisper. “Really?”

When Nate nodded his head in agreement – too nervous to speak – you hugged him tightly. Blushing and pulling away when you realised that you probably seemed too eager. “I’d, uh, love to go on a date with you.”

Those words washed away all the teen’s nerves. Nate laughed loudly, picking you up and spinning you around. The pair of you stared at each other with wide smiles. Both clearly happy with the moment. You found yourself leaning in, closing the distance between yourself and Nate.

“Come on you two, come socialise,” Your mother called from the living room. “We haven’t even seen Nathan before you stole him away.”

The sound of your mother killed the moment but that didn’t stop Nate from lacing his fingers with yours and leading the way to your family. He parted for a split second to hug you mum and shake hands with your dad. Your brother gave him a knuckles before Nate returned to your side.

“Ever the guard dog,” Josh muttered to Nick, his best friend.

“Always,” he laughed.

The party was in full swing by the time that you and Nate decided to ditch it and go on your little adventure. While he made you a hot chocolate for your drive, you changed your pants into a pair of pyjama pants. The two of you snuck out and over to his place. After pulling your favourite blanket from his bed and he changed into his pyjamas, you two piled into the car. Off on an adventure.

“You look comfy,” Nate smiled softly, glancing away from the road for a second to see you snuggled under the blanket, thermos of hot chocolate in hand.

Under the glow of the nearby house’s Christmas lights, Nate looked so handsome. Just who you’ve come to love over the years of being best friends and neighbours. “I am so happy right now.”

“Me too.”

One of your favourite songs started to play through the radio. The whistling intro to Home by Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros started to float through the speakers. A song you recognised immediately.

“Oh I love this song,” You smile as Nate goes to turn the song up.

Nate knew this was a favourite song of yours. Having heard it over the years since you had first discovered it. Now as he drove up to the next house on their list, he listened closer to the lyrics. Suddenly it hit him. This was how he felt about you. He parked in front of the house lit up by thousands of little lights. You turned to him as he heard ‘never could be sweeter than with you’ and it all fell into place. You were the one. Even though you weren’t dating, he knew.

Nate pulled you closer, caressing your face as he felt your uneven breath on his lips. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

“Of course,” You grin, closing the distance between you two. Lips moulding together as the song goes into the trumpet part. This song was how you felt about Nate.

Home is wherever I'm with you

Nathan had training today and it was tiring but he had something to look forward to tonight. Tonight was the New Jersey Devils’ Christmas Party. That meant he got to show you off to his teammates. Something he’s never shy of doing. Especially at Christmas.

Since the two of you had been dating, your love for Christmas blossomed. Which meant it passed on to Nate. It was both of your favourite time of the year now. Every light reminded you of your first date together. Of your anniversary. Your love was at the roots of the festive season.

What was even better was that he was back in New Jersey after the frustrating stint in Seattle with the Kraken. Neither of you felt at home while he was there but as had become the motto getting you through each day was ‘home is wherever I’m with you’. A lyric from what had become their song. It was their way of reminding each other though Seattle wasn’t New Jersey, he had you.

Nate could hear the music coming from his bathroom. Since moving back to Newark, all he wanted was to be with you 24/7. To come home after a hard training to you somewhere in the apartment. Making it come to life. But you had your own apartment you had to return to every couple of days or when Nate was on a roadie.

Even now, he could see bits of your spread out in his apartment. A few stray pieces of clothing left on the ground from their sexcapades the other night. Pictures of the couple over the years; their first christmas as a couple, his draft, their first christmas with the team. Even the little things like your keys on the hook, your brush sitting on the couch, the smell of your cookies wafting through the apartment. It wasn’t home without you.

“Nate, is that you?”

Without waiting another second, Nate started to peel off layers of clothes until he was only in his underwear, standing outside the bathroom door. He opened the door and saw your naked form swaying to the music. Eyes closed as you watched your hair. His briefs hit the ground and he slid into the shower behind you.

The familiar whistle echoed through the bathroom. Off the tiles. Then your soft voice sang along with the music. Nate sang along as he wrapped his arms around your waist. “Hi baby.”

“Hey, welcome home,” You smiled, spinning around and resting your arms on his shoulders. “How was training?”

He grunted in response. His head tucking into your neck as you lightly ran your fingers up and down his back in a calming matter. The two of you just stood under the running water, listening to the soft music echoing off the tiles.

“That bad?”

“Yeah.”

You sigh lightly, scratching the nape of his neck with your nails. One of his favourite things. “Oh baby.”

“I wanna come home to you every day,” Nate muttered, tightening his grasp on you.

“What was that?”

The man took a deep breath, deciding it was finally time to ask the question that had been plaguing his mind since he had left for Seattle. One he regretted now asking earlier. “Will you move in with me? I wanna come home to you every day. Just seeing your beautiful smile makes my day a billion times better.”

“Oh baby, of course I will,” You grin, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. The final chorus was playing as you shared a smile. “Home is wherever I’m with you.”

I never loved one like you.

Christmas was always one of your favourite times of year. Especially since you and Nate got together. This year was like every other. Well maybe expect the fact this year you two were hosting both families. Nate had a game both before and after the big day so you couldn’t travel back to good old Mississauga. But that wasn’t stopping your families.

Christmas morning and you found yourself in the kitchen with both your mothers, Natalie, Anna (your sister-in-law) and Lila (Nick’s wife). It was a full family affair. Waffles, eggs, bacon, and more all planned for breakfast. All three of you had a mimosa close by as the men of the family hung out in the lounge room watching a random hockey game replay.

“It’s Christmas, can you guys please put something else on for once?” Nate’s mum sighed, hearing the commentating of the game.

Without an argument, surprisingly, the guys turn off the tv and put on spotify. Nate hooks it up to the speakers you have running through the house and plays some carols. When breakfast was ready, all of you got comfy around the dining table.

“Kiddo, can you please pass me the bacon?” Josh asked.

“Here,” you smirk, picking up a single piece and placing it on his outstretched hand.

“You little shit.”

Your mum sighs, “Can we please just save the fighting for a day? An hour even?”

Instead of annoying your mum even more, you did as your brother asked and grabbed the plate of bacon and passed it over. Not before grabbing your own pieces. Bacon and maple syrup would always be one of your favourite combinations.

When breakfast was finished, the family made their way into the lounge room, finding themselves sat all around. This year it was Nate’s turn at being “Santa”. Which just meant reading the labels and passing them to who it was for. Slowly, one by one, the large pile of presents under the tree was dispersed to the correct individuals. And soon enough it looked empty under the tree.

Everyone started opening their presents, words of gratitude shared from one person to another when their gift was revealed. Though you were happily opening your gifts, Nate hadn’t touched his. And he seemed nervous.

“You okay?” You mumble to him, trying not to alert the families if something was wrong.

The man just sent you a small smile, “Just want to see you open mine.”

One by one, you opened the pile of presents in front of you. Mum. Dad. Brother. Nate’s Parents. His siblings. A present from each person in the room except one from him.

“Nate, baby, I don’t see one with your name on it.”

Nate stood up and went back to the tree and grabbed a small gift hidden in the tree, behind to tinsel to conceal it.

“I found it,” He states handing you the present to unwrap.

As you slowly unwrapped the small present, Nate sank to one knee. When you looked up at him, realising what’s going on, he grabbed the now unwrapped ring box and opened it. Revealing the gorgeous ring he had picked out just for you. With the help of both of your brothers.

That’s when you heard the familiar whistle echo through the room and house. Filling it with the notes of your love song.

“I love you,” Nate begins, his hands shaking with nerves. “The couple years have been a ride, that’s for sure. But I wouldn’t want to be on it with anyone else but you. I never loved one like you–”

“Yes,” You interrupt excitedly. You had tears running down your cheeks. Happy ones of course. “I want to marry you. Tomorrow even.”

Nate slid the ring onto the correct finger. Which was shaking with excitement. As soon as he completed the task, you flung yourself at him, tackling him to the ground in a loveful bliss. Just like the laugh he let out.

“I’ve never loved anyone like you,” You whisper, in time with the song, before pressing your lips to his. The love pouring out as your family all celebrates around you. You were getting married.

Alabama, Arkansas. I do love my ma and pa. Not that way that I do love you.

Mrs Bastian. Who could believe it. Certainly not yourself or Nate. Both of you were still trying to wrap your heads around the fact you two were married. After so long of dating.

The day had been perfect. From the morning spent getting ready with your loved ones to the moment Nate first saw you in your dress. Yes, he even cried at the sight. Then his speech that made you nearly ruin your make-up (thank god for water proof makeup). So far, it was perfect and you knew the rest of the night would also be perfect.

Here you were with your husband behind the barn doors, waiting on being announced by the DJ. All of the bridal party had already entered the reception tTo a couple party songs. Some of which were a little ridiculous but were a right laugh. Now it was your turn. Well you and Nate’s. Nate pulled you closer, sneaking another kiss.

“I love you, wifey.”

“I love you too hubby,” You grin, pressing your lips to his once more.

“Are you ready for this?”

You giggle, “I’m always ready.”

Then you heard the DJ. “Please welcome, for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Bastian!”

The large doors swung open and you two walked in to clapping and cheering. When you reached the dance floor, Nate was sure to spin you around, showing off your white dress for the reception. Then he proceeded to dip you, kissing you in front of all the friends and family that were present.

“Get some Big Nate!” A voice that sounded awfully like Jack Hughes shouted.

The pair of you shared a laugh with many others who had heard the boy’s words. Instead of doing the first dance after the food comes out, you both had decided to do it first. It was how you wanted to start off such a great night of celebrating your love.

“To kick off the long night, the newlyweds will be doing their first dance.”

The familiar whistle started to play and you two wrapped your arms around each other. Anyone who knew the couple knew this was their song. One that has followed them throughout the relationship.

“Alabama, Aarkansas,” Nate starts to sing quietly as you two sway to the song.

“I do love my ma and pa,” You continue.

You both smile as you sing the next words. “But not the way that I do love you.”

You come to rest your head on his chest, just listening to him sing to you as you dance. This, ever since you realized this song was your song, was your first dance song. And being in the moment made you know you made the right choice. With the song and Nate. Sure, you knew before this you two would get married. But it made you feel at peace knowing you and Nate were in it for the long run that is life.

“(Y/N),” Nate spoke, going along with the song but changing the lyrics.

“Nathan.”

“Do you remember that day I took you to see Christmas Lights?”

You couldn’t help but grin at the change of lyrics, “I sure do, you drove me all around town.”

“Well, you looked out the window, admiring every light you saw and pointing out every house you loved, you remember that?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Well, there's something I never told you about that night”

“What didn't you tell me?” You knew the lyrics but every time you and Nat reenact this little part, it always made you grin that cheesy in love smile. Especially with the change he’s made. Hearing Nate speak about falling in love made those damn butterflies come back. Every. Time.

Nate came to cup your cheek, looking deeply into your eyes. “While you were sitting in the passenger seat, with your blanket and drinking your hot chocolate, I was falling deep, deeply in love with you. And I never told you 'til just now.”

“Aww.”

No matter how many times you and Nate heard this song, it will always be your favourite. As the last chorus played, both of you thought back on your relationship. How many times this song happened to be playing at important moments. From the first date to the day he proposed. This song was a way to show your love to each other. The love of your relationship. Exactly what you were doing right now.

You two sing the last line to each other, encapsulating both of your feelings into those same 7 words. “Home is when I'm alone with you.”

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nyaagolor · 4 months ago

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Evanatsu Week Day 1: Closets / Phonecalls

I looked up Evanatsu week today to see if I could participate this year only to find that apparently it started yesterday. (oops)

Anyway, their dynamic fascinates me and I am finding new and exciting ways to articulate the deeply personal ways that these women can ruin each other's lives forever. Anyway, day 1, aka "Natsuhi is Rokkenjima's most pathetic closet case, send tweet"

The night before her wedding day, Natsuhi locked herself in her closet. It was the ghost of a childhood habit, born from winter days when burrowing herself in the trails of kimono fabric felt like the best way to keep warm. She would be enveloped on every side, insulated from the pervasive chill, and enjoy a special kind of stillness from the blanketing of light and sound. With every movement, the kaleidoscope of patterns from her dresses would sway, bringing a spectral kind of motion to the darkness, and Natsuhi frequently found herself lost in it, watching the shifting constellations in the dark. She could imagine dancers there, the twisting forms of shrine maidens or yokai, women with long hair who tickled her neck as she moved in tandem with them. In the cold, she could imagine their arms around her, bundled in ribbons of their long sleeves and skirts, beholden to nothing but the feather-light warmth and the feeling of their closeness.

It wasn’t winter when she was married– spring had laid her warm hands upon the chill of winter, the world waking up to the rain as though blinking off the last vestiges of sleep. Just as the flowers poked through the dirt, the arrangements had been made, an April wedding to a man she did not know. Though she didn’t have the cold as an excuse, she found herself drawn to the screen doors, parting the fabric and staring blankly at the back of the closet. She didn’t know what she expected to find– a hidden door, maybe? Some way to escape, to run without the burden of shame on her family and disappear wordlessly into the ether? As she climbed in, huddling in the corner and letting the fabric settle around her, she tried to dismiss the thought. It had been a long time. She was 15, set to be married, a bastion of the dignity of the two families whose lines she walked between. She couldn’t afford to indulge in those kinds of thoughts. She was a woman, a soon-to-be wife, and it was for her family’s pride that she had to force down the reflexive wince at the idea.

The once-spacious darkness felt more like a tight hug– Natsuhi had her back pressed against the corner with her legs drawn up to her chest and still barely stopped herself from tumbling out and through the screen door beside her. Stale air seemed to linger in the gaps between some of her older ceremonial outfits, still in here for who knows what reason. The kimonos strung up around her seemed to stifle even her breathing, the rolls of dust unearthed from the corners more visible in the faint light than the patterns of the fabric. The comfort of it bordered on oppressive, things too big and old and incongruent to fit back into the familiar picture. There wasn’t really even a point to this. Natsuhi’s husband was coming in a precious few hours. She should be sleeping, not hiding. There was no space for this kind of solitude in married life, no closets to hide in like a little girl or old fabric to find stories in. There were no princes. Even if tacitly, she became aware of the finality of this moment, what this feeling meant— the real consequence of her sudden, final discomfort in the safest part of her home. It was an irreparable shattering of an old memory, a new kind of self-reflection that swirled in the back of her mind, right with a raw grief for something she didn’t yet know. Something had changed beneath her feet, shifted in directions she couldn’t yet name, changed shape without her. Fit awkwardly into the space, choking on the dust as her face became hot and wet with tears, Natsuhi buried her face into the kimono beside her, rubbing her cheek against the silk and tried to imagine she was anywhere but here.

Perhaps it was a strange thing to notice, but the mansion on Rokkenjima did not have closets built into the walls. There were smaller, maze-like rooms branching from some of the bedrooms, but the entire design ethos felt downright brutalistic as far as Natsuhi was concerned. Screen doors and crannies within the walls were turned to utilitarian, blank rooms, fitted with large raised beds and armoires with heavy doors and deep, cavernous spaces like hungry mouths. If the doors happened to swing open in the night, Natsuhi found herself captivated by the sheer darkness— the clothes within were indistinguishable, and one could be mistaken for thinking that blackness extended beyond the walls if you only reached into it. Anything could lurk within that space, invisible insofar as it remained behind the boundary of the doors. When Natsuhi was feeling especially perturbed by the mansion, the island, this family and the marks they made on her, she wondered whether it would be preferable to submit herself to whatever it was that lay there. She knew better, though, and so she wrote it down.

Pen to paper, she could tease out the shapes she saw in the dark, the curves and figures come to life in swaying fabric patterns. She could conceptualize the feeling of being enveloped in silk, of soft caresses and bodies under her touch that were familiar enough to be her own. She could put words to the dancers that used to only show themselves in the hidden halls of her old home, find an ease in the shapes of shrine maidens and yokai. When Krauss drew his hands down her back and she imagined someone else, she could give a name to it later, to turn those thoughts to words and banish them to the dark hallways that extended beyond her closet doors when the darkness made such boundaries thin enough as to not matter. If you didn’t open them, who’s to say how far the closet extended into the dark? She banished the fantasies of cold winters to a more childish version of herself within the pages. Natsuhi Ushiromiya was the wife of the soon-to-be head of household, and there was no space in here for anything or anyone else.

Rokenjima itself was a closet, Natsuhi thought to herself. Dark and suffocating, walls that extended into forever on every side of you. It was a little box, a closed room, draped in fabric and dust that swayed until you could see things in it. Men and women existed as specters of themselves in constant, ethereal motion; a kaleidoscope of desire weaved itself behind the locked doors. The patterns themselves became alive, illusion upon illusion for as long as a person dared to look at them. The hallway extended as far back as you let it.

Natsuhi coughed on the taste of copper in her mouth. A thick pain blossomed in her stomach, a sharp kick just beneath her ribcage choking whatever protest had been on her tongue. Eva was screaming at her, punctuating her vitriol by kicking at anything exposed, a look of utter revulsion on her face. Her hands, clenched at her sides, shook with an intensity that Natsuhi didn’t have the words for, a venom that twisted her face into hideous contours as she spat and howled at the woman at her feet. Her heel had already come down on Natsuhi’s wrist, the pain making her mind buzz and her hearing fade to a consistent, meaningless static in an instant. Swirling patterns of hardwood and the fringes of a thick european rug undulated in her vision, swaying in a rhythmless crowd as the tears blurred it to abstraction. Elsewhere in the mansion, duct tape still hanging from the handle, sat an empty armoire, its door hanging open.

#umineko #natsuhi ushiromiya #eva ushiromiya #evanatsu #mod vex #vex writing #i know this is a little abstract so if ur confused about anything or wanna talk about it feel free to shoot me an ask :)#actually pls do that anyway I love yapping esp abt narrative choices #evanatsu week #just an fyi btw Eva is also sapphic here #she’s just throwing Natsuhi under the bus as a scapegoat to protect herself #bc she’s Eva

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yanderecrazysie · 1 year ago

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rec but im awkward:

•

character: mad dog

sfw or nsfw: nsfw (only if youre comfortable with it tho)

how they meet: they meet at a ball

why they meet: they have an arranged marriage

the vibe: royalty, dark academic, (maybe mafia), winter, coquette-

extra: basically an arranged marriage for yandere!(maybe mafia! or prince!)mad dog x (maybe princess!)reader

I love how you made a form! This made everything much easier and clearer for me!

I wasn’t sure if I should do mafia or prince/princess and I discovered I’m not good at writing mafia lol, so I went with the prince and princess one, especially because I had a fairly good idea for it!

The NSFW is fairly light since I wasn’t sure how to fit it in the story super well and I’m still not great at writing it, but it is there at the end!

Title: Silent

Pairings: Kyoutani Kentarou (Mad Dog) x Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, dub-con sexual content (NSFW), Kyoutani is manipulative without saying a damn word lmao

Summary: Prince Kyoutani proposes a contract that you can’t refuse.

silent

/adjective/

not expressed aloud

You only met him once.

It was a ball meant to raise spirits and forge stronger connections between your kingdom and a few others. As the crown princess, you had a major role in conversing with all of the other kingdoms’ crown princes and princesses.

If you were to be honest, you barely remembered him.

There were so many people to greet and be polite to and dance with and talk business with. You only realized he was the crown prince of Seijoh because of his outfit, not because you recognized him or anything like that. You were a busy woman, after all.

For some reason, among all of the crown princesses and high society women, you were the one that stood out to him. So much so that he had demanded an arranged marriage with you.

His father did all of the talking. Prince Kyoutani said not a word, though the king made it clear that his son was the one who requested the arrangement. Strange how someone so eager to make such a huge life decision could act so disinterested.

To make things even more confusing, the marriage contract was filled with rules meant to be followed, with no listed consequences. One would think that, if you were to break the terms, then the contract would be voided, but that didn’t seem to be the goal by placing lines like “Neither party will commit adultery” and such.

You knew that, as a princess, you had a duty to marry a prince to strengthen the bonds between the two kingdoms, but this just seemed so sudden. You weren’t ready.

The king of Seijoh seemed to accept your answer, but it was only a day later that he called another urgent meeting. He seemed shaken as he informed you that his son did not accept your rejection and that he would go to extreme measures to ensure the two of you married.

Declare war against your kingdom because you wouldn’t marry him? Was he insane?

Your kingdom was enjoying a century of peace. You couldn’t be the ruler who dragged them into a war based on her own selfish feelings, could you?

You could almost see the victorious aura that Prince Kyoutani radiated.

The two of you married in early spring. It was a beautiful wedding- even you had to admit that through your tears. Prince Kyoutani had hired someone to do most of the planning and they had done a great job, with the fancy decorations, the gorgeous dress, and the delicious cake.

You couldn’t help but notice it looked very similar to the ball you two had met at, just all white instead of red and gold. You wondered if that was on purpose or merely a coincidence, but you assumed the former.

Your husband hadn’t spoken a word to you yet, but you could tell his emotions even through his stoic mask. You had always been good at doing so, since that was an important trait to have during business meetings.

Maybe that made it worse when he coaxed you into bed, fingers trailing up your thigh as he silently gazed down at you with a hunger that terrified you. His other hand just-as-silently slipped under your poofy white dress, searching for purchase on your breasts, no doubt.

You’re just as quiet as he is, reminding yourself that it’s for the best. For your kingdom.

His finger hooks around your panties, pulling them down and off, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he does so. His fingers return immediately, playing with your pearl until you squirmed and whimpered under him. His other hand groped at your breast roughly, still somehow setting you ablaze with lust.

You find yourself grinding hopelessly against his fingers as he slides two into you at once. It’s too much, too fast for your first time, but you aren’t complaining any longer.

He’s grinning eerily in the candlelight and a part of you balks once more at the thought of being his wife, but your eyes cloud over in pleasure as he resumes his rubbing against your clit. You can feel him hardening against your thigh as he gets infinitely rougher with you.

You’re a whining, moaning mess, but Prince Kyoutani remains silent.

He never really had to say a word to get his way, did he?

#yandere #yandere haikyuu #haikyuu!!#yandere one shot #one shot #yandere x reader #yandere kyoutani #kyoutani kentarou

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pure-ablution · 3 hours ago

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I am having the worst hair breakage I think I've ever had this winter. I remember in a previous post, you mentioned that Ukrainian women often wrap their hair while outside to prevent damage during winter. I'd love something more stylish than just wearing beanies when I walk my dog on the beach. Can you recommend any knitting patterns, scarf tying tutorials, or any where I can find more stylish inspiration for wrapping my hair?

You’re in luck, because headscarfs and balaclavas are in this season! TikTok is where I get my most fashionable inspiration, but I also love Pinterest for ideas for matching my scarf with my outfit, and old-fashioned scarf manuals are the best for learning new knots and styles (the old Hermès scarf cards can be found quite cheaply on eBay, and are very chic to have on your dressing table or mantlepiece!).

You can go high fashion with a knitted triangle scarf, vintage glam with a silk headscarf, or very Old Country with a floral woven scarf—but my favourite recommendation that works with all sorts of tastes and fashion senses is a handmade ‘wedding ring’ scarf, from Shetland or Orenburg. These finely-knitted scarves are so pretty and so warm, and I couldn’t be without mine. You can buy them online, or make your own according to patterns in numerous different books.

#ask-beauty #fashion

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thebestshoppingonline · 5 months ago

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laninstar-womanstyle · 2 months ago

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Cocktail Dresses: Your Guide to Effortless Elegance in Evening Wear

Cocktail dresses are the epitome of elegance and versatility in women's evening wear. They’re perfect for a variety of occasions, from weddings to dinner parties. Here are some tips to help you choose the perfect cocktail dress:

1. Know Your Body Type: Flattering silhouettes vary for each body type. A-line styles work wonders for pear shapes, while hourglass figures shine in sheath dresses.

2. Seasonal Styles: Adapt your dress to the seasons. Light fabrics like chiffon are perfect for summer, while velvet or silk is ideal for winter events.

3. Accessorize Smartly: Statement jewelry and chic clutches can elevate your look. Don’t forget to choose the right shoes – heels add that perfect touch of glam!

4. Color Coordination: Experiment with complementary or monochromatic colors to enhance your outfit.

5. Sustainable Choices: Opt for eco-friendly fabrics and timeless designs to contribute to fashion sustainability.

With the right cocktail dress, you can feel confident and stylish no matter the occasion! 🌟