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Yohji Yamamoto: boatneck knit 'pee boy' embroidered sweater, autumn/winter 2009
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Baby's first alteration!
So, I got my old sewing machine fixed and serviced, and I set up a sewing table! So of course I've been going through and happily mending holes in pajama pants and backpacks and sheets and what have you. And because I've also been sucked into the whole "visible mending" thing, I took a bag of not-so-great clothes that I was going to scrap, and started reevaluating them as potential patches for visible mending projects.
Which is when I came across this shirt:
The reason I was going to get rid of it is because of the turtleneck. The very, very, VERY small turtleneck, that made me feel like it was going to strangle me every time I wore it. And then I started thinking that having a sewing machine means that you can change things about clothes that you don't like....oh no, I'm going to start learning alterations and tailoring, aren't I? Oh. No.
So I came across this very excellent tutorial:
youtube
And I figured, I was going to get rid of that shirt anyway....what if I tried to take off the strangle-neck and make it into something wearable?
And then I got intimidated. I've never done anything like this before.
And then I remembered another turtleneck in my scrap pile, that was there because it doesn't really fit me very well:
I figured I could use this as a practice piece, because there's a lot more cloth in case I screw up (it's always been very baggy on me), and there's basically no way I would be wearing it again anyway.
So I started going through the tutorial:
I removed the turtleneck part and picked it apart
(Look at how much longer the purple turtleneck was compared to the blue!)
The tutorial was for a scoop-neck, but I always look better in a boat neck, so I marked the fabric with soap and cut a boat-neck neckline into the shirt (which was scary, but I was pleased with how it turned out!)
Then I followed the tutorial for how to measure and estimate the lengths of the strips for the front neckline and the back neckline seams:
Then I sewed them together
Panicked because one of the seam attempts caught in the sewing machine and was drawn UNDER THE FEED DOG PLATE which caused all kinds of problems including a broken needle! And I was worried that the fabric of the seam was so chewed up that I'd have to start over......
But then realized that the chewed-up part was going to be folded up and oversewn with the seam. So I pinned it up:
then got scared and added more pins
Matched it up to the shirt
And then I SEWED IT ON!
The shirt still doesn't fit at all, but I'm pretty pleased with the neckline now! (Oh no....does that mean I'm going to have to learn how to tailor an overly-baggy shirt?)
(Side note: Starting off new with super-stretchy fabric made some interesting problems. But! I now know how to replace a broken needle, pick a new foot that's better suited to the fabric, fight with stretchy fabric without a serger, etc etc etc. Good learning project, all in all. :D )
#sewing#mending#upcycle#sewing machine#new skills#first time#newbie#turtleneck#boatneck#tutorial#alterations
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Get GlamzLife Exclusive's Boat Neck Crop Top with Riveted Pencil skirt. Navy Blue & Green, Imported Fabric, casual wear. Perfect blend of style and comfort.
Link:-https://shorturl.at/cisvI
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#glamzlife#glamzlifeexclusive#luxurylifestyle#luxurytashion#fashion#causalwear#fullsleeve#importedfabric#topskirt#boatneck#fashionista#trendy#ordernow#goodqualityproduct#onlineshopping#sale#discount
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Just made the cutest little errand girl outfit accidentally i have to remember this for when i dont know what to wear omg
#baby pink boatneck uo tee#heather grey brandy sweats that rollover i forgot what its called#the ones that are similar to frankies ones#so flattering
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If I can just get the multiplier and specular to play nicely, I’ll have the Nurse Chapel boatneck-style top of my dreams.
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whatever i think kuroro thinks the slicked back claw clip look is sooo fucking sexy
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shein romwe slogan tee
#get off my mind#ketherphore#mens tee#gregorian plate#amalgamated plate#zahnsammlung#rose colored glasses#love is a chemical#i think his would be a tank or slouchy boatneck tho
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there are less than a dozen shirts on this hell earth that have sleeves that fit me. and one of the coziest just fell into my possession.
But it's a blood donation shirt so i'm EXTREMELY tempted to cut it up in a DIY goth/emo way for Vampire Purposes
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Most people probably didn't notice how intimate Charles reaction to Edwins Confession was.
Edwin has this type of edwardian pyjama/underwear kinda thing going on. The wide boatneck opening. But there is fabric on the shoulders.
Charles puts his hands on his shoulders. Saying all those very reassuring things.
(going to hell for him is btw the most romantic thing)
he slides his hands down his shoulders
and the decides to slide them up even further. touching Edwins collar bones. a very sensitive spot. It's lovely. and very intimate in a way.
#charles edwin love confession#maybe I'm just making this up because I'm autistic#but that is a very intimate place to touch in my opinion#and I'm delulu#let me live#charles and edwin will be the death of me#charles edwin#painland#dead boy detectives#dead boy detective agency#neil gaiman#the man likes to see me suffer
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Femme Fatale Guide: Fall Wardrobe Essentials
Staple Tees:
**Purchase in Modal, Pima cotton, or a cotton-cashmere blend**
Fitted crewneck tees (long-sleeves/tees & tanks for layering)
Relaxed fit long-sleeve tees
Turtleneck long-sleeve top (fitted & relaxed fit options)
Contour bodysuits
Blouses/Shirting:
Silk button-down blouse
Cotton button-down blouse
Silk shell top/t-shirts/camis (for layering)
Sculpt knit top(s)
Self-tie wrap blouse
Shirred boatneck, mock neck, or cowlneck silk blouse(s)
Leather button-down
Knitwear:
Thin cashmere/wool crewneck sweater (fitted/relaxed fit)
Thin cashmere/wool turtleneck sweater
Chunky relaxed-fit cable knit sweater
Knit polo-neck sweater
Cashmere sweater vest (crewneck, v-neck, and/or turtleneck)
Mockneck cashmere/wool sweater
Cashmere long-sleeve sweater dress
Cashmere/knit skirt (mini, midi, or maxi - depending on your personal preferences)
Sophisticated coordinating knit set (top/pants or skirt of your choice)
Casual knit set (top/pullover and relaxed fit pants)
Cashmere cardigan
Cable knit cardigan (doubles as a light jacket)
Bottoms:
Black straight-leg jeans
Black bootcut/flared jeans
Black straight/bootcut trousers
Wide-leg trousers (I love a solid black, black pinstripe, and black with lace-up detail selection)
High-waisted leather pants
Split hem trousers
Stretch jersey/cashmere pants (straight-leg or flared)
Quilted leather/tweed mini skirt
Knit/wool mini and/pencil skirt
Leather skirt (mini or midi)
Silk midi skirt
Dresses/Jumpsuits:
Knit/sweater dress
Little black dress (shift dress/A-line cuts are great)
Blazer dress/jumpsuit
Slip dress (for layering)
Minimal black jumpsuit ("LBJ")
Leather and/or denim dress or jumpsuit
Jackets & Outerwear:
Black tailored blazer
Leather blazer
Tweed jacket
Trench coat
Leather moto/cropped/bomber jacket
Black wool coat
Raincoat ( I like Rains for high-quality options on the affordable side that are still built to last for several seasons)
Statement jacket/coat
Footwear:
Sleek flat/low-heel black boots with a pointed-toe or square-toe silhouette (I love Vagabond, Jeffrey Campbell, Vince Camuto, and Sam Edelman for more affordable, high-quality options)
Black loafers/sleek black flats
Black lace-up boots
Black heeled boots
Black pumps
White sneakers
Rain boots (I recommend the Melissa Shoes Welly/Grip/Step boots or a stylish, sustainable, and more affordable option)
Accessories:
White/black ankle & crew socks
Black control top tights
High-waisted shapewear shorts
Chunky/small chain necklaces & bracelets
Simple pendant necklace(s)
Pearl necklace
Simple diamond studs
Crystal drop earrings
Minimalist bangles
Stackable rings
A sleek, minimalist black tote (can fit a laptop for work/travel)
Black shoulder bag
Small black bag (top handle, crossbody, etc.)
Statement bag/evening bag
Cashmere scarf
Silk/decorative scarf
Fingerless/touch-screen friendly, lightweight gloves
Lingerie/Loungewear:
Seamless bra/underwear
Lace bra/underwear
Matching pullover cotton sweatshirt/sweatpants
Knit or jersey cotton top/lounge pants set
Luxurious pajama set (silk, Tencel, cashmere, etc.)
A to-die-for piece of lingerie like a lace slip/silk teddy
Silk or cozy robe
Cozy open-back slippers
#fashion advice#capsule wardrobe#wardrobe staples#custom wardrobe#personal style#personal branding#wardrobe design#style advice#style tips#fashion trends#outfit inspiration#styling tips#fashion education#fashion editorial#outfit ideas#black outfit#fall outfits#fall wardrobe#femme fatale#it girl#self concept#glow up tips#femme fetale aesthetic#femmefatalevibe
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THE PINK DREAD - CH. 22 (Masterlist)
Chapter Summary: It's Maiden's Day. The Royal Conclave has officially begun with guests from all four corners of the Realm gathering into the Grand Hall for the first Ball of the season, where all the Maidens will be presented. Word Count: 5651 CHAPTER WARNINGS: Misogyny. Religious themes.
Series tags: Aemond x Plus size!OfC, Aegon x Plus size!OfC, Celtigar!ofc, Plot with Smut, mdni 18+, Aemond End Game, Angst, Comedy, The Dragons Don't Dance, slow burn, friends to enemies to lovers, enemies to friends to lovers.
Credits: Lace Banner by Aquazero, pearl divider by Pommecita
Maiden’s Day had begun shortly after the arrival of the King and Queen. The last three days were a flurry of last minute preparations. All the unwed ladies of the Realm were being prepared to don their white gowns, displaying their virtue on their sleeve, so they may all crowd inside the Great Sept atop of Visenya’s Hill and pay tribute to the Maiden.
In the Celtigar apartments, bodies milled in and out of the room with tailors and seamstresses alike. Valeana already had a dress made for herself, which she had done moons ago for Maiden’s Day. Though, at the time, she believed it would have been celebrated at Claw Isle, like it was every year for the past decade. Her sisters were a different story; their dresses were commissioned prior to the funeral, and they were now rushed to adjust days before the event. In comparison, they were plainer than Valeana’s, who had the time to stitch out every detail, but they were still lovely and extravagant, as all Celtigar women were known for.
Floris’ was a shockingly pearl white gown with a modest boatneck neckline, and tight wrist length sleeves. The neck, arms, and hemline adorned with the same damask embroidery stitched into it, with small quartz crystals polished into teardrops dangling along her neckline. Her hair was pulled away from her face, parted down the middle, flowing down her back with only a single braid woven down the middle. Any stray hair would have been held back by her crescent white hood that had a white veil hiding her brown tresses.
Shyla’s was an alabaster white, with a scoop neckline to accentuate her beautiful neck, and capped sleeves. She had more of an empire waistline, allowing the skirt to flow freely with its light tulle curtains. There was less detail in hers, but there were pearls woven into the skirt sporadically, like white stars on a canvas of clouds. Lastly, she wore lace gloves, a matching pearl choker with a ruby at the center, and unlike Floris, all her hair was piled up, topped with an albino peacock feather.
With her extra free time, Valeana was able to put her full attention on the dress she had promised Queen Alicent she would make. She had already presented the queen days prior to her departure with sketches of her designs, and Alicent had only responded with requests for minor changes. She did not wish to be scandalous, but she did want to make a statement. The design she chose would be tedious, but Val enjoyed the challenge. Rosy, her ever loyal handmaiden, was always there to assist with her mistress’ work. She had helped many times in the past, which has aided Valeana greatly when it came to multiple gowns for multiple occasions… Which she would likely need these next couple of moons.
She had a lot of work ahead of her, particularly her own gown for the Creature’s Ball. She had no ideas for herself, and that made it all the more difficult to start. Her hands moved along the soft fabrics that her mother had brought over from Claw Isle and bought in King’s Landing market places. All colours of the rainbow were presented before her, in various shades and saturations. From brilliant cobalt blues, to muted lavenders, to rose blush reds, to even unflattering palettes such as mustard yellow, mourning black, burlap sack brown, and salmon pink.
Maiden’s Day started painstakingly early as everyone got ready, aside from the men who did not need to don their formal attire until later, just before the ball. Valeana strapped in her more formal prosthetic, the one she affectionately called “Ser An-toe-knee Woodsby”, who had a wedged heel to accommodate the height of her wedged shoe. She always preferred this prosthetic over “Lady Footlyn”, it was more elegant, and walking in it felt more natural, but the caveat was that it wasn’t as worn in as she would have liked, and it would always have to be worn with a wedge shoe on her other foot. The increased height made it more difficult for her to stand for hours now that her right foot was made to bear the brunt of her weight on the balls of her feet. Still, she loved the way it made her hips sway side to side.
Her large ivory gown was pulled over her head, and pooled at her feet with its scalloped hemline. Out of the three dresses, Valeana’s was the only one with colour. Maroon embroidered roses were designed in the grand width of the gown, standing tall on their stems like an award winning rose garden. The same pattern was centered on her bodice, the bud of the rose centered between the width of her breast, and the bottom of the stem ending at the ‘V’ shape at her waistline. Her biceps had the same design as well, although more subtle, taking the snug shape of her arm until it got to her elbow where it flared out in delicate lace. Then, as always in Celtigar fashion, pearls decorated the dress all over, accentuating lines to give it more texture.
Valeana’s hair took the most amount of time. As long and thick as it was, it took two handmaids to tend to it. They pulled and pinned until it became a single large braid, the knots loosened elegantly, and decorated with sprigs of baby’s breath. Mother wanted it to be put up, but Valeana argued that the weight of her hair would cramp her neck.
Wheelhouse after wheelhouse left the Red Keep that morning. When they reached Visenya’s Hill, it was crowded with carriages, horses, and women in white. Hundreds of maidens gathered into the Great Sept, leaving behind their mothers, their aunts, their fathers, and other guardians behind.
Only maidens were allowed to fill the halls of the Great Sept that day.
In silence, Valeana and her sisters entered the massive structure. It had been a decade since she last saw it and it never ceased to amaze her. The domed ceilings were so high that you could hear a whisper of a prayer from the other side of the Sept. Her eyes roamed around, looking at unfamiliar faces of women and girls alike. From girls as young as three, to spinster women as old as 60. If you were never married, and never laid with a man, you were here to worship and honour at the feet of the Maiden.
She did not see Ellyn and Wylla in the crowd of white, and she ended up losing her sisters in the shuffle of the crowd. Not wanting to waste time on finding her people, she decided to take place in the first empty space she could. She immediately spotted one on a pew next to a young woman in a frost white gown, hair a beautiful red orange that was laid in waves down her back and plaited into a crown adorning her head. She was on the robust side, with rounded cheeks, a wide waistline, and soft arms. She reminded Valeana a lot of her former younger self, but admittedly this young girl was far more prettier, more vibrant.
“Do you mind…?” Valeana asks the girl in a whisper. No one dared to raise their voices while the Septas filtered through the crowd with vulture-like awareness. Every once in a while, they would ring a bell when someone was being too loud.
The girl looked up with surprised sapphire blue eyes, then she relaxed with a kind smile, “No, not at all.”
Valeana settled in beside her, and took a look around to see if she could spot her sisters, or her two only friends, Wylla and Ellyn.
“Looking for someone?” The girl next to her asks.
“Lost my sisters in the crowd,” she admitted. “Trying to spot my friends, but… with everyone wearing white, they all blend in together.”
The girl softly chuckled, then quickly covered her mouth, “Same thing happened to me, but with my cousins. I have no sisters, just too many brothers.”
Valeana smiled in response, “Who are your cousins?”
“They are Lord Tyrell’s daughters,” she answered simply, then extended her hand. “My name is Lady Catelyn by the way. Catelyn Redwyne. But you can call me Cat, everyone does.”
Valeana took it and they both shook gently, “Lady Valeana Celtigar.”
The mention of her name caused the young girl’s brows to raise and her mouth to gape a bit, “You’re Valeana Celtigar?”
The octave of her voice was loud enough for a Septa to sharply bring a bell in their direction. The two girls looked over before hunching down and continuing their whispers.
“Erm, yes. How do you know me?”
“Your name is spoken all over the pavilions,” Cat whispered in haste as she took a glance around to make sure no one was listening. “They say King Viserys’ two eldest sons are fighting over your hand.”
A deep blush stained her cheeks, “That isn’t… That’s not what is happening at all. Are people really talking about me? I haven’t even left the Keep since I arrived.”
Cat nodded eagerly, “It is all the ladies are talking about. That and your… uhm, many drunken exploits with men.”
“What!?”
The bell rang next to her ear, jostling her in her seat. When she turned around, a Septa was glaring at her with a twisted puckered face. Slowly Valeana turned back around.
“It was one time,” she immediately corrected. “And I was in the company of women.”
“Well, whatever the truth of it is,” Cat started, a little smile at the corner of her lip, “You are creating quite a stir in the Realm. It has caused a divide between the ladies.”
“What do you mean?”
“Half the women wish to end you, and the other half wish to be you. Either way, all here are green with envy.”
“And which half are you, Lady Cat?”
She smiled sweetly, folding her arms on her lap demurely, “I am a fan of great romances, and therefore, a fan of you. It reminds me much of this novel I read whilst living in Highgarden. It is about a woman from the North forced to marry a Dornish prince, but fell in love with his brother. But she ended up falling for her betrothed too, after some time. It was quite riveting.”
Valeana’s face was fully pink at this point, from outrage over this news, to flattery over Cat’s praise. At this odd book that sounded far too familiar for her liking. She cleared her throat, “And–and what happened… in the end?”
Catelyn sucked in her lips sheepishly, “Oh, I dare not say. Not here, not on Maiden’s Day.”
Valeana shot a look at the giant statue of the Maiden, whose feet they all circled. Then she looked back at the Redwyne girl, “Whisper it into my ear.”
Tentatively, Cat leaned over and cupped her hand over Valeana’s ear, “They both became her lovers. Often at the same time.”
If it was possible, Valeana’s face went pinker. Her eyes glanced back at the Maiden, green eyes filled with religious guilt.
Maiden, forgive me for my thoughts. She thought, swallowing thickly.
The Great Hall was near its capacity with the collection of noble families that crowded it. Hundreds if not a full thousand people mulled around, mostly men as half the population of their guests were making their way towards the Red Keep from the Great Sept. Aemond lurked in the fringes of the hall, eye moving along to each faceless body, trying to identify who belonged to which family. He spotted Lord Borros immediately; he was an easy character to pick out from the crowd, and it was not because of his size. He was loud and tended to take up as much space as possible. Along with him, he found Jason Lannister, their Lord Treasurer’s twin brother. Lord Tyrell and his Dornish wife, the Redwyne brothers, the Starks, the Freys, and even the Greyjoys were in attendance.
Aemond knew that most would not stay longer than the length of the Tourney; it was not just wives that these bachelors looked for, but titles and knighthoods, of which the King promised. But there were many bachelors indeed, easily identifiable by their attire.
The maidens wore white, and so did the un-affixed men, save for the widowers. The young men and boys that had not married once wore various shades of white doublets and jerkins. Their breeches are generally a darker colour, and a formal cloak of their house colours framed their bodies.
Aemond abhorred the colour white on him, but at the very least the dark forest green of his cloak gave him the depth of darkness that he preferred. The lapels and stitching of his satin jerkin carried the same green, and in the same shade of white, dragons were embroidered onto his shoulders and the bottom near his hips. His cloak hung on a gold chain clutched in the jaws of two dragons at his shoulders. His eyepatch was the only black piece of clothing on him; it was his most formal one, with swirly switching in the leather. The strap this time was tucked under his hair and under the shell of his ear on one side, giving room for the golden circlet above his brow, showing his status as a prince of the realm. Lastly, part of his hair was intricately woven into a series of plaits that collected into a fishtail braid that went down the center of his head, the length of the rest of his hair fanned over his back like a sheet of silk. The process of which was irksome, as Aemond absolutely loathed anyone but himself and his mother to touch his hair.
His eye fell onto Aegon, who wore similar garb, but held more gold than green on his doublet. His hair was only half pulled back into a small twisted plait on the back of his head, and the circlet that rested on his brow had emeralds encrusted around the gold rim. He kept himself busy with socializing, as that was what Aegon was known for. He surrounded himself with the team of Redwyne brothers, laughing loudly over goblets of wine, likely made from their wineries.
Aemond moved his attention away from him, landing onto his uncle who was on the other side of the hall, keeping to the fringes just like him. Daemon wore black, whether by a personal preference or to convey the fact that he was still in mourning. It was likely the former of the two, knowing his uncle’s reputation. Daemon’s cloak was black as well, though the inside was blood red, making the Rogue Prince look like the Black Dread in human form.
And of course, Daemon was looking directly at him.
Aemond kept his eye on him, refusing to move it an inch.
It was always so strange to him that he and his uncle had not formally met at Leana's funeral, and even after the incident, no regard was spared. Daemon lurked in the shadows while his mother screamed for justice over Aemond’s eye, and not once did the Lord of Flea Bottom say a word about him claiming his late wife’s dragon. It wasn’t until only a couple days ago that they had even locked eyes with each other, after Valeana and Jacaerys greeted each other.
It was bizarre. Like looking into a mirror that showed him his future.
The staring contest broke when Daemon was joined by his step sons, oblivious to Aemond’s spectre on the other side of the Great Hall. Both men wore identical garb, save for their colouring. As heir to the heir, Jace wore a red cloak, draped over one shoulder, being held on by a silver dragon’s claw. His brother wore a muted aquamarine one, and his doublet had the image of the seahorse woven into patterns at his breast. With Lord Corlys still abed with no indication of survival, Luke’s choice of colours was a clear statement that he was the heir to Driftmark… But anyone with eyes knew the title belonged to Lord Vaemond Velayron.
The doors to the main entrance opened with the blaring of trumpets announcing the arrival of the maidens. A hush went through the crowd as all men, and married and widowed women flanked the sides in order to make room for the ladies that would be presented. The first, of course, was Princess Helaena, who was dressed resplendently in a true white gown with a train that followed behind her. Her hair unbound, with a crown of white flowers upon her head. Her dress had little crystals woven into the hems and linings, and the shape of butterflies could be seen in the fine embroidery. Her sleeves were long and billowy, flowing into her skirts and covering her arms and hands completely.
It was painfully obvious how nervous and fretful she was. She slowly descended down the wide staircase, eyes flickering around the crowd as her eyes shone with a glossiness of unease. Helaena was not good with crowds, and here she was on display for the entire Kingdom. Aemond made a step towards her, intent on collecting her from her personal hell, but his mother beat him to it. She swiftly cut through the crowd that parted and bowed for her. Upon reaching Helaena, she took her hand and silently pulled her through the crowd towards the head table where the royal family would be seated.
After that was settled, the gently bred ladies were introduced to the room three to four at a time. There were the Four Storms, the Baratheon sisters, then Jason Lannister’s girls, and so forth. After a lady Redwyne and her Tyrell cousins were introduced, the names of Floris, Valeana and Shyla were announced, and Aemond snapped to attention.
“Lady Floris Grafton, Lady Valeana Celtigar, and Lady Shyla Celtigar,” the announcer’s voice echoed in the hall. Aemond’s eye swept around for a moment, noticing some of the women whispering to each other as they craned their necks to watch the three girls descend down the stairs.
Aemond tried to appear impartial, but his body moved without his consent. He stepped in between bodies, forcing them to part with his shoulder. When people craned to see who had been cutting through them, they jumped aside. Had Aemond been paying attention to his surroundings, he would have noticed he was not the only one that filtered through the bodies to get closer. Apart from him, there were three others.
Valeana had her hands clutched in her gown, chin down on her clavicle as she watched her steps down the stairs. Her hair practically glowed in the midday sun that shone through the skylight and stained glass windows, giving her a halo of dust particles dancing around in the air about her head. Aemond has never seen her in white before, at least not from head to toe. She was radiant, like a star on earth.
A divine creature descended from the Seventh Heaven.
The Maiden in flesh and bone.
His eye trained on her every movement, his vision a tunnel and she was the light at the end of it. She was the only thing that existed in that room, in that world. Once she reached the ground, her eyes lifted and like a magnetic force they immediately found him.
There was a ringing in his ear as he became deaf to everything and everyone around him. They were suspended in time the moment their eyes locked onto each other. Aemond’s lips parted as the breath was quite literally stolen from his lungs, and his life flashed before his eyes. All moments in time that he shared with her, as far back as babes.
Squeals of laughter and delight as they played in the rain and mud, and then ran through the corridor tracking dirt on the flagstone, being chased by two irate Septas. Sitting back to back in a copper tub as the same two women scrubbed them down to their bones.
Wrestling over the last lemon tart on their shared platter underneath the Heart Tree, getting tangled in the roots as they tugged at each other’s hair and pinched each other’s arms. They always ended up splitting it in the end when Valeana tapped out, huffing in disappointment and ignition.
Their “discreet and secretive” sleep overs they would have under a large desk in the royal library. Sharing a large pillow and blanket as he practiced his Valyrian to her until she fell asleep on his shoulder. Maester Artos would always find them, barking loud enough to wake them in a startle, causing their heads to bump into each other.
Her face lighting up whenever he presented her with menial gifts, such as shiny rocks, seashells, flowers, or rusted jewelry found on the beaches of Blackwater Rush. She would always make something out of them; pendants, earrings, or unconventionally sewn in an embroidery loop, woven in her art for eternity.
She running to him in tears after the Greyjoy boy kept on pinching and slapping her behind whenever she had her back turned. He had taken his handkerchief and dried her tears and smoothed down her hair, vowing that he will never let him touch her again.
And then lastly when his father told him he would be marrying her, his best friend. And his one and only weakness. His pride and fear consumed him then, but now…
Now, as he watched her turn away, her hand poised out to grasp the hand of her elder brother, he was consumed by a new type of fear. The fear of losing her completely, of which his pride now would not allow.
Valeana Celtigar belonged to him.
As time took motion once more, the chorus of music and chatter filled his eardrums. Aemond was returned to reality, left to stare at her back as Clement brought his Valeana over to the side, where the rest of her family waited. Aemond forced himself to turn away before he could do anything rash in front of quite literally all of the Realm.
The first dance of the ball was to begin shortly after the mingling of guests, and it would be followed by the feast, and a parade of fools and entertainers. Aemond intended to reach Valeana before the dance could begin, before Aegon or Jacaerys could reach her. He cut through the crowd in long strides, hyper aware of the eyes of his father, mother, sister, and rogue uncle upon him as he narrowed the space between himself and the Celtigars. However, before he could even get within yards of them, his path was intercepted by Lord Borros and the eager brown eyes of Maris Baratheon.
“Prince Aemond,” The Stormlord greeted, his smile calculated and false. It didn’t reach his dark eyes, which assessed him with keen suspicion. “I thought you might have lost my beautiful daughter in the crowd, and so I personally escorted her to you.”
Maris looked up at her father in gratitude before back at Aemond, “I told my father it was my wish to take my first dance with you, Prince Aemond. If it pleases you.”
The reality of his decisions of the past few weeks weighed heavily on his shoulders in that instant. Since that moment in the corridor with Valeana the other day, he had forgotten he had shown personal interest in Maris Baratheon. By now Borros surely was already fixated on the idea of betrothal, else he would not be here carting his daughter to him like a sacrificial lamb. More likely than not, the Stormlord surely had talked to the King about it already, which presented more problems. Had this been a week ago, Aemond would have only hesitated for a moment before bending to duty, should it have been the will of his father and mother. Both of which he knew were against it for some vague reason, given the lecture that was given to both him and Aegon the night of their return.
His eyes flickered above their heads where he could just about make out Valeana, standing partially behind the body of a girl with red hair and a round, plush face. Aegon and Jace crowded them, effectively snuffing out his chance at claiming Val’s first dance.
Aemond’s jaw was tense when he looked back down at Maris, but he forced himself to smile, just enough to make him look convincing.
“It would please me greatly, Lady Maris,” he extended his hand to her, which she took with a bright smile and casted a look to her father over her shoulder.
Lord Borros hummed satisfyingly, “Wise choice, my Prince. Next to my little Floris, she is the best dancer at Storm’s End. Beauty, brains, and grace!”
“Father! Please!” Maris chided, taking her place at Aemond’s side. Too close for comfort. Too close for him to look detached.
Separating himself from Maris now was going to be a challenge. The last thing he needed was contention with Borros Baratheon, when in the future his mother and grandsire may need his loyalty.
Aegon was well into his cups before the maidens arrived for the ball, and that was simply due to his nature. A man who quickly found friends among strangers, Aegon was by all accounts a social butterfly, and an avid social drinker. When the maidens started to enter the Great Hall, he leaned against a large pillar casually next to Redwyne brothers, as the four of them each judged every girl that walked in.
“Ah, Cassandra Baratheon,” Aegon turned to the three men, “Beautiful, but a bore. She complains about every bloody thing.”
“That is unfortunate,” Cleyton, the eldest, tutted. “I like tall women.”
Aegon scrunched up his nose at that, “Do you really? Not for me. I like them short… easier to align their nose with my cock.”
The men laughed and turned back to the parade of women. Jason Lannister’s daughters came in after, hair like spun wheat and looking like clones of each other.
“I’d take them all, one at a time, or all together, really,” Ser Cedric, the second son, giggled into his cup while his younger brother slapped him in his arm.
“Such a pig, Cedric. A greedy pig,” Colin chided, earning him an incredulous look from Cedric.
“You’re one to talk, baby brother. You were ogling the widows like a hunger panged hound.”
Cleyton leaned into Aegon’s shoulder, “He likes older women.”
Aegon’s shoulders shook with a soft laugh, “I do not blame him. Older women often make the most eager sluts.”
“Lady Wylla Stark, Lady Barba Bolton, and Lysara Karstark.”
“Oh, now she is a work of art,” Cedric stepped forward, his hand gesturing to the raven haired woman descending the stairs. “I always thought Northern women were large, hairy and had beards. Thank the Seven I’m wrong.”
“I’d be careful with that one,” Aegon said thoughtfully. “She will emasculate you with her eyes alone.”
Cedric smirked widely, “Sounds like my kind of woman, then. I enjoy a good hunt every once in a while, you know?”
Cleyton snorted, shaking his head, “You forget she’s a Stark; a direwolf. She’s the hunter… And you are a pretty boy with a long stick and shiny hair that you spend too much time on.”
The boys laughed, even Aegon, as Cedric shook his vibrant mane away from his face haughtily, “Thank you for calling me pretty, brother. You know how it gets me hard.”
“Good gods,” Colin sighed embarrassingly into his palm.
Then the doors opened to three women, two tall and willowy with dark brown to black hair in coiled curls and thin braids, and the third a shorter girl in an empire waistline dress and bright orange hair tumbling about her shoulders. Clearly a chubby one, even with the cut of her dress that tried to shield her unwanted curves.
“Oh, that is simply not fair,” Aegon tutted, “You don’t pair up the thoroughbreds with the mule.”
“Oi, careful now,” Cleyton rebuked while Cedric made a sharp hissing sound through his teeth before covering his grin with his fist.
“That’s our sister, my Prince,” Colin quickly added.
Aegon grimaced, sucking at his teeth as he casted a look over to his new mates, “Sorry. What I mean to say is: Your sister is very lovely.”
The girls were introduced as Lady Sharis and Malora Tyrell, and Lady Catelyn Redwyne, first cousins likely from their mother’s side of the family.
“Lovely, sure,” Cedric snorted in his cup, earning him a quick whack from his elder brother upside the head.
It was not long after that the Celtigar sisters were introduced to the crowd. The mere appearance of Valeana was enough to sober Aegon, but only to then get drunk at her visage after.
“Oh, ho, ho,” Cedric dog whistles and nudges Aegon’s arm, “That’s her then? The Celtigar girl that’s gotten the Princes of the Realm all in a tizzy. Now I can see what the fuss is all about. It’s the only bloody thing Cat, Shar and Mal can ever bleedin’ talk about.”
Aegon grinned, eyes still glued onto Valeana as she descended down the stairs slowly, her sisters trailing ahead of her at a faster pace.
“The whispers have reached the pavilions then?” Aegon’s eyebrow raised, not paying them a minute of his attention. His teeth grazed his bottom lip as his eyes drank in every inch of her. Her neck, her hair, her bosoms and her cinched waistline. He felt a stir in his loins and the overwhelming desire to taint her white dress by deflowering her took over his senses.
Her maidenhead will be his.
He stopped listening to the Redwyne brothers; their prattle was background noise to him as he swallowed the remains of his goblet and quickly shoved it into one of the boys’ empty palms.
“Excuse me,” he pushed himself from the column, eyes trained on Valeana as she parted from her family to go converse with none other than Catelyn Redwyne, of all people.
As he made his way through the milling bodies, in the corner of his eye he could see another filtering through towards the same destination. His eyes caught his nephew’s, and with a dual glance back at Valeana, the race was on. The two princes cut through the crowd, causing curious looks and shocked whispers at the sight.
“Seven Hells,” Valeana startled when she turned around just in time to see the brown and silver haired princes all but collide with each other. Overwhelmed by the sudden attention, she put Catelyn in front of her to shield her. The redheaded girl did not seem to complain.
“Good Maiden’s Day, Lady Valeana,” Aegon greeted first, a knowing smile upon his face. “You look resplendent today.”
“Thank you, my Prince,” Val curtsied stiffly.
“I dare say she always looks resplendent,” Jace smiled, his hands folded neatly in front of him, “But, you do look exceptionally more today, Lady Valeana. White suits you.”
Aegon sent him a withering look.
Catelyn turned to Valeana, all wide eyed and gleaming with barely concealed excitement. Aegon didn’t see, but she mouthed: “Three princes?!”
Valeana’s eyes widened slightly at her before returning her attention to the men in front of her, “Prince Aegon, Prince Jacaerys, this is my new friend, Lady Catelyn Redwyne.”
“But, please call me Cat. Everyone does.”
“Ah, yes, I was just acquainting myself with your brothers,” Aegon bobbed on his feet and smiled politely at her. “Lively lads, them. It is true what they say about the Redwynes; they can drink anyone under the table and still walk in a straight line. A talent I someday wish to have.”
Cat giggled, then gave a soft snort, which caused her to blush heavily and cover her mouth, “Oh! Oh, dear, that was embarrassing.”
Aegon hummed amusingly, smile still donned, “Aren’t you a darling. If I can make a lady laugh to the point of snorting, then I have succeeded in life.”
The four of their heads perked up at the sound of lutes and drums, signalling that the first dance was about to begin. Aegon turned back around, eyes finding Valeana’s His mouth opened, ready to ask her for a dance, but Jace was quicker and his request left no room for refusal.
“I promised Lady Ursula that you would be the first I asked to dance, Lady Valeana,” Jace stepped forward with an extended hand, his smile charming, “I hope you do not do me a disservice by forcing me to break that promise.”
Valeana swallowed, looking at Aegon briefly with pained eyes, and then back at Jace. The corners of her lips tugged upward, twitching as she tried to keep a polite face.
“Well, I would never wish to disappoint my mother,” she placed her hand in his, and he gently pulled her into his orbit.
Aegon glowered silently, nostrils flared as his finger curled into fists. Jace gave him a smug look of triumph, the end of his lips turning into an insufferable smirk before returning his baseborn brown eyes onto Valeana. She gave Aegon one last look before she disappeared onto the dance floor.
“Strong bastard,” Aegon hissed, forgetting he was not alone.
Catelyn laugh-snorted again, then promptly covered her mouth, eyes wide with realization. “Oh no, I should not have laughed at that.”
Aegon’s mood significantly shifted; his smile broadened as he turned to her. “Oh, but I am glad you did,” he tilted his head and offered her his hand. “May I have your first dance, Lady Cat?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE SNEAK PEAK He hummed, his eyes glancing down to the floor where her feet were hidden behind the hem of her dress, and then back up. “I didn’t see you dancing.” She couldn’t help her eyes from narrowing, “You were watching me?” There was a faint smile there, one that she could not decide if she liked or not. Though what he said after did make her toes tingle and her face feel hot. “Always.”
Notes: Oh, where do I begin. You finally get to meet my other babies. If it wasn't obvious already, the heroine for Aegon's Spin Off story has been introduce, along with her brothers and cousins. They party hard at the Arbor, what can I say. I havent decided yet if I'll wait until the end of TPD to post his story yet, but I will warn you guys, that there will be a mia moment of no updates for probably two weeks as I try to work on both of them simultaneously. I've only written the prologue, and I need to make sure I get the timeline right. But that will probably not happen until sometime in November.
Tag: @queen-of-elves, @keylin1730, @anakilusmos, @weepingfashionwritingplaid, @sugutoad, @desireangel
( if you wish to be tagged for this story, just give me a reply! )
Please do not re post, redistribute or plagiarize my work. The only other place this story is posted on is ao3 under the same username.
#celtfics#celtfics: pink dread#aemond fic#aemond fanfiction#aemond x oc#aemond x ofc#aemond x original female character#aemond x original character#aemond targaryen#aemond x reader#aemond x celtigar#plus size oc#plus size original character#aemond x plus size ofc#aegon x ofc#aegon targaryen#aegon x oc#18+ mdni#house of the dragon#house of the dragon fic#hotd fic#hotd fanfiction#ewan mitchell#ewan mitchell fic#aemond targaryen x oc#aemond targaryen x ofc#aemond one eye
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EP14 Dress Boatneck for Girls
Available for the base game.
20 colors
Custom thumbnail
All Lods
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#sims 4#ts4cc#ts4#no adfly#kiarazurk#ts4 maxis match#girls#clothes#girls clothes#no ads#patreon#body clothes#age conversion
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Just a thought for future polls, can we do hot vintage fits?
Like what’s the one fashion piece that makes everyone hotter? Glasses vs sweater vests. Beards vs mustaches. Fedoras vs trench coats. Endless possibilities and disproportionately strong opinions.
Hot vintage fits as a category seems too broad to me (so many different styles of glasses and trench and beard!), but I would be totally down for a Hot Vintage Iconic Costume tournament. Something like—
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@lucilla-sims 4t2 EP14 Dress Boatneck made top-only (requested by anon)
Wahoo, more top-onlies! For adults and teens, they have the appropriate morphs. They come in the original 12 colors (swatch is stolen), and you can choose if you want the TF files repo'd to the AF files, or not :)
Download EP14 Dress Boatneck Top-Only AF - Alternate
Download EP14 Dress Boatneck Top-Only TF Repo'd - Alternate
Download EP14 Dress Boatneck Top-Only TF Standalone - Alternate
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My Personal Weatherman Finale
I don't have anything super deep or insightful to say after doing a rewatch with subtitles so I actually know what was said. But I think I might have figured out what felt so different about My Personal Weatherman. It's a love story 100%, but it wasn't a 'falling in love story'. We saw the moments when they fell for each other in the flashbacks, but the story of the show already had them in love. So it was really about self-acceptance of those feelings for Yoh, and about confidence in their relationship to fully express them for Mizuki. (Maybe I do have something insightful to say.)
But also, one of my absolute favorite things about this episode was the camera choices. The fact that every time we saw them be fully honest with each other, one of them had their back turned, and then in the very end they're gazing into each other's eyes. Like it's just beautiful and perfect, because we see Yoh avoid eye contact regularly, and Mizuki will make him look him in the eye when he thinks it's important. Mizuki doesn't avoid eye contact though, so him doing so while saying these really important things that he knows have the potential to change everything is really impactful because I think it really shows how afraid he is that Yoh will decide it's too much.
I've talked some about how I fall on the Yoh side of the D/s dynamic, so I relate the most to him. But find myself most affected emotionally by Mizuki, and I wonder if that's because of that submissive part of me. Like, since we're given insight through his thoughts, the last two episodes especially, I just so much wanted him to say EVERYTHING he was thinking. I felt like he was scared that his intensity would be too much for Yoh, and I just kept wanting to be the Jiminy Cricket on his shoulder telling him that Yoh isn't as delicate as he thinks. That we aren't fragile, we can handle that intensity, we want to see that strength of love, and affection, and passion. And we may be a little nervous, but we also TRUST and have faith.
Either way this episode made me cry, it's making me almost cry as I think about it. I'm sad that it's gone by so quickly, and I hope that we get something else, a special ep, or a movie, or if the gods are with me a second season. But either way I'm 99% sure I'm gonna order the physical copy of this show and it's probably going on my comfort rewatch list.
(As a side note, I went to pull gifs for this post to add interest, and they are wearing the same tops in the first ep as they do in the finale, the gray thin boatneck top and green hoodie (technically it's a different hoodie, but that's not really the point) so it's like full circle.)
#my personal weatherman#taikan yoho#segasaki x yoh#mizuki x yoh#segasaki mizuki#yoh tanada#higuchi kouhei#mashiko atsuki
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Knit an Easy Aitana Sweater For Summer, You'll Love the Cropped Look & Boatneck Lace: 👉 https://buff.ly/3UQbKrJ
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