#favourite wedding gowns
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loud-whistling-yes · 9 months ago
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Behold: a fool! A fool that took a whole month of agony to make, but a wonderful fool nevertheless. A lovely lady but no one's baby sort of fool (ft. ssh album cover from the old post)
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aimeedaisies · 2 years ago
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✨🧚🏻‍♀️ a true fairytale princess 🧚🏻‍♀️✨
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designedandplated · 4 months ago
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Wedding dress, March 1874.
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aireia · 10 months ago
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pretty. — shopping for your wedding gown went a little wrong.
tw/cw: tooth rotting fluff, not proofread, fluff/crack, reader wears a dress + satoru calls them his future wife —masterlist
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you smile and place your palms under your chin, wondering how you got to this point. your snowy haired fiancé is currently twirling around with a custom tailored wedding gown… which he wasn’t going to be wearing on your wedding day anyway, because he would never hear the end of it from his first year trio. okay, yuji probably wouldn’t have said anything, but nobara and megumi would bully him out of his own wedding. without a doubt, 100 percent.
your mind tried running through the events that had unfolded over the past two weeks, finally stopping at where everything started.
-
“pretty.” 
those were the only words that satoru gojo had to say the moment the both of you had found the perfect wedding dress for you. detailed right down to the final bits of the dress, it matched you perfectly with your favourite flowers weaved into the design, just the perfect length… it was everything you were looking for.
the sound of your soft laughter brought him out of his awestruck expression. “thank you, but as much as i love it, it feels just a little uncomfortable.” you sounded a little disappointed, and satoru couldn’t help but notice every little shift and movement you made… especially that mischievous look in your eyes and grin plastered on your face the moment you thought of a ‘solution.’ 
“maybe you should be the one in a dress at our wedding. i’m sure the strongest can handle a little bit of discomfort.”  
now, you and gojo had known each other for probably more than a decade. he knew better than anyone else that you were joking. but you were basically challenging him with that last sentence, right? 
he abruptly stood up from the couch he was sitting on once you had gotten to changing out of the wedding gown before marching off to one of the nearby employees and asking about any dresses his size, only to be met with the response of, “this is an unusual request, but there are quite a few dresses that would compliment you-” the employee coughed a few times before continuing, “-but we are closing soon, so there might not be enough time to try them on-” 
“i'll take all of them.”
“pardon?”
“including the one my future wife chose. okay thanks!”
the total came up to about 1.2 million yen. for a dress for you and those 3 gowns the employee picked out, it horrified everyone present at the counter. everyone but him, of course. 
back to present time, that’s how you found yourself being the one and only audience member for your beloved’s fashion show. for a good reason, you wanted to chew him out for spending that recklessly. then again, this is the same guy who decides to buy two of the same items no matter how expensive it is “just in case the other one goes missing.”
you sigh softly before turning your attention back onto him. he’s currently trying on the final dress, and has finally got rid of the sunglasses. you can’t help but admit that he actually looks good in the dress, sparkling with all the right types of gems and jewels, paired with his now visible long eyelashes, he looks pretty. 
“so? how do i look!!?” satoru asks with enthusiasm, spinning around you in circles. 
“hmm, maybe i should be the one wearing your suit that day instead,” you jokingly say to him. he understood, laughing before ruffling your hair. 
“as if i’d let you.” a comfortable silence filled the air afterwards, being broken afterwards by satoru confessing, “i dream of seeing you wearing that in front of me at the altar, you know?”
your eyes at this. you weren’t expecting him to say something like that so sudden. 
“i can wear it at night when-” satoru’s sentence was cut off by a light punch to his gut. 
“hell no.”
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by user @ aireia, do not plagiarize and/or translate.
@rninies still can't write fluff unfortunately, writing this fried my brain
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balrogballs · 20 days ago
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One of my most why do I do this to myself headcanons is that Elrond talks to Celebrìan all the time, from the day she sails to the day he sails. That he tries to do it silently, but sometimes slips up.
Not in the way of sorrowful monologues, no, but in remarkably mundane ways. Sometimes he’s at dinner and the dessert is over-sweet and he’d mumble in disgust “god, you’d love this, wouldn’t you?” Sometimes he’d walk in the garden and see some awfully large bug and go “yes, yes, calm down, I’ll get Glorfindel to kill it”.
When he first set eyes on Bilbo Baggins he marvelled “oh, Cel, you’re right! they do have hairy feet, I owe you a gold piece!” and then immediately turned bright crimson upon remembering that in addition to hairy feet, Bilbo Baggins also had working ears.
He’d have five minutes in bed before getting up just complaining to her about all he had to do that day, and then later in the evening he’d stand at the sink with a mouthful of toothbrush, complaining about all he didn’t manage to get done. He’d chatter away about anything and everything, but always in the present tense.
It made Elladan and Elrohir very sad — after all, they knew what it was like to always have someone to turn to and discuss everything and anything, and the idea of losing that terrified them. Arwen and Galadriel would indulge him, in that they wouldn’t comment on it, and leave him to it when he slipped up.
Most surprising, however, is Celeborn’s reaction. They had had a mildly tense relationship the year after Cel was rescued, both blaming the other as cover for their own immense guilt. But any time Elrond accidentally addresses a comment to a phantasmal Celebrìan in front of him, Celeborn would do the same, to the same patch of thin air. Elrond loves him very, very much for that.
Aragorn, who had the luck misfortune of being raised by Elrond, understandably began copying his mannerisms as a toddler. This is what led to Gilraen coming across her five year old son having a full conversation with absolutely nobody whilst he played with his toy horses. Nervously, fearing for his sanity, she asks him who he was talking to, only for him to say “oh, it’s Cel, she’s a crazy lady and she’s me and Ada’s invisible friend. She hates bugs”.
Gilraen, not knowing Elrond used to call his wife Cel, spent a good two years absolutely certain that there was a poltergeist in Rivendell.
At Arwen’s wedding, as he leads her to Aragorn, he can’t help but whisper “look at our marvellous girl���. Arwen squeezes his hand, tight enough for two.
To his utter mortification, Elrond accidentally mutters “oh look at this wonderful tapestry, Cel, your favourite colour scheme!” whilst on a visit to Thranduil’s court. Thranduil politely pretends to not notice, feels a tinge of sorrow for his kind-of-friend, but also says a silent thanks to the Valar for “allowing me to avoid the Elrond approach to widowhood”.
Legolas convinces Gimli that Elrond is talking to a poltergeist, and offers him ten gold pieces to go and ask him if he’d like an exorcism.
In Valinor, two months after he arrives, Elrond is reading in his study when he’s struck soundly on the temple by a bedroom slipper. He looks up to see Cel, (his) dressing gown wrapped around her, her other slipper folded in her hand like a club: “who the hell are you calling darling at two in the morning?”
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l4ndon0rris · 5 months ago
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A Love for the Ages CL16
A collection of short stories of yours and Charles unique love story through the ages
pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader // sibling!Pierre a/n: i have a lot of this already pre-written in my drafts so there will be scheduled uploads regularly - each short flashback in time will begin with the same intro you see below - if you want to be on a taglist lmk
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All eyes were on you, the white wedding gown that clung perfectly to your body, your impeccably crafted hair paired with flawless glowing makeup. There was no denying you looked ethereal standing at the altar gazing into his familiar eyes: those eyes that had comforted you, cried with you, looked at you with desire, had burned with anger and softened with apologies. The eyes that have witnessed dark days and brighter ones now bore into your own; you saw a flash of anticipation in them waiting for you to mutter the two words joining you together forever. Those eyes transported you back through everything that led you here, to this altar, holding his hands, about to embark on forever.
8 years old
You were a typical eight-year-old with lots of friends who all obsessed over the latest boyband, your parents’ victims to hours of being the audience for your self-choreographed dance routines to a variety of songs. You were lucky, in hindsight, to have so many friends around you at a young age. Sleepovers were your favourite thing to do for birthdays; Pierre, your older brother, was always allowed to have his own friend over for company whenever you had a sleepover. It was a rule that annoyed you at first - sleepovers were an only girls allowed territory - but Pierre and his chosen friend typically locked themselves in his room and played on his gaming console so you knew he wouldn’t interrupt.
You were running around behind your mother in an effort to help before your friends arrived; your mother was ensuring there was enough room for their sleeping bags, double checking the fridge was full of enough food and drink cartons and accepted your idea of placing the CD player in the spare room so you had enough room to practice your dance routines in private before the big show you would unveil later in the night.
“Charles is here!” Pierre exclaimed as he darted past you toward the front door to let him in. You followed your mother, choosing to linger in the nearest doorway as she greeted Charles’s parents taking his overnight bag from them and welcoming him into the house. You vaguely recognised Charles' round face from one of Pierre's racing weekends.
“Here you are, Charles. Have fun you two!” You spotted a hand ruffle the top of his brown head of hair, another handing him a gift bag he shyly took. Your mother and his parents exchanged numbers in case of emergency before closing the door. Charles stood with a gift bag adorned with a pink bow in his hand when he spotted you staring his way curiously; Pierre’s friends were usually all older than you but Charles looked younger, he had an innocence in his eyes that matched your own.
“Pierre said it was your birthday, so this is for you – happy birthday,” Charles politely spoke, walking toward you, the bag with the pink bow held out in front of him. Looking between the gift bag and your mother she silently encouraged you to give your thanks and ushered the three of you into the front room to place the gift bag on an empty table.
“We’ll put any presents here for now - that’s so kind of you Charles, thank you,” your mother reiterated, not quite satisfied with your shy mumblings of appreciation you gave. None of Pierre’s friends had ever brought you a gift before so this one was already your favourite out of them all.
“Let’s go upstairs and play my new game!” Pierre was already visibly bored, bounding up the stairs, Charles followed behind politely and gave you a small friendly smile you shyly turned away from.
“Let’s put some music on shall we? Your friends should be here soon,” your mother turned on the CD player you had already set up with three CDs to rotate between that would earn approval from your friends. You took the opportunity to peek inside the lone gift bag on the table, glittering pink wrapping paper in the shape of a box sat inside. You wondered what the strange new boy with brown floppy hair had bought you when he didn’t even know you.
Charles had undoubtedly intrigued you from the moment you first met him.
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multific · 2 years ago
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In Love with a Monster
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Ivar the Boneless x Reader
A/N: Dedicated to the one and only @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl
Summary: Being in an arranged marriage, you told your husband was a monster.
"He is a monster, yet you want me to marry him?!"
"It is best for our kingdom. And it is final, you will marry Ivar!" your father's words sent shivers down your spine. You have been arguing and trying to reason with him for the past hours to no avail.
Your father was a stubborn man, ever since you lost your mother, it got worse.
But having you marry a Viking? 
He said it was to ensure the relationship since Vikings were great at fights.
He explained that soon, a carriage will arrive for you and you will be taken to Kattegat to your husband.
And it was final.
You felt betrayed by your own father.
But what did you expect?
You knew he had been looking for a husband for you. You just never expected that he would find such a man, or as he said, a monster.
You had a terrible nightmare, dreaming of monsters as you woke up in cold sweat. 
Your life might as well end now.
But the next day, just as your father said, the carriage arrived and soon, you were on a boat sailing towards your demise and misery.
To be married to a Viking monster.
---
Ivar on the other hand was rather excited. When his mother told him about a Princess he will marry, he found himself to be rather excited and nervous.
He walked with his brothers towards the waters, seeing the boat, Ivar let out a sigh.
Hoping his bride would not be too afraid of him.
---
As you got off the boat a kind woman stepped forward. She was the Queen, wife of Ragnar, Aslaug. 
"Meet my sons, this is Ubbe, Sigurd, Hvitserk and your husband to be, Ivar." you kindly bowed to all of them and you could feel them staring at you. You wondered if your dress was possibly too much. You knew better than to stare but you did notice the weird contraption around Ivar's legs.
"He is a cripple, he cannot walk but do not let that fool you, he is a monster, a terrible murderer who would take down an army by himself." your father's words rang in your head.
"Currently the wedding is being planned so I think it would be best to let you rest, I'll show you to your room." said Aslaug, breaking the silence. 
You nodded one last time and the men in front of you before turning to follow their mother. She guided you to a house and inside she showed you a room. "Now, this would be only before your wedding, of course after it, you would be with Ivar. Welcome to Kattegat." she smiled before leaving you alone in the room to get ready for the wedding.
You let out a sigh.
"Are all monsters this handsome?" you said to yourself quietly before two servants arrived to get you dressed.
---
"You are lucky, Brother!" said Hvitserk as he patted Ivar on the back, they all walked off the docks, heading to their business. "She is a beauty!"
"And a Princess! You are clearly mother's favourite child, giving you such a bride. OR she just feels sorry for you." said Sigurd but Ivar didn't pay any mind to him.
His mind was filled with you.
How beautiful you looked, how shy you were. He was certain you have seen his legs, or at least heard about them. 
Ivar couldn't stop thinking about you. His senses were filled as he could recall a small whiff of your scent. Such a sweet and innocent woman you were, he could tell.
You will be the perfect wife and a great Viking.
His princess.
---
You looked at yourself in your gown as the servants left and gave you some space. 
You felt your hands shake, you knew you were about to be married to a monster.
You were terrified.
You learned a long time ago that people with beautiful faces can be the most cruel. 
And it is what you expected.
---
Ivar watched you walk towards him. Looking like a goddess, Ivar's breath was taken away immediately.
He could tell his brothers also had the same thought. 
Soon, you will be his wife, only his. 
He could see your hands shake as you said your vows.
You were his now.
His woman.
His wife.
His Princess.
His.
As the wedding concluded, now it was time for celebration. Everyone danced, drank and ate.
Ivar saw you looking around, as if trying to learn the habits. Ivar liked that you were willing. 
You, on the other hand, stared at all these people while feeling the burning looks coming from your left, Ivar kept staring at you, making you nervous.
You didn't want the night to end. You were terrified of being alone with him. You did everything that you could just to avoid being alone with him. 
You were rather surprised that Ivar didn't do anything that evening. He showed you his home but that was it, he soon headed to his bed and slept. Leaving you and your thoughts alone.
You were thankful he didn't force you.
---
This went on for a couple of days.
Ivar either ignored or barely acknowledged your presence. 
And you, were terrified of him. Being how your father put all these ideas into your head before he sent you off. 
Slowly, you started to believe they weren't true.
A monster would surely have hurt you or forced you. Ivar never did.
A monster would hurt you or leave you out in the cold. Ivar never did. Instead, he invited you into his home, his bed even, gave you furs and always made sure the fire was crackling away in its place.
During the first days, you would be afraid to fall asleep, fearing he would try something while you weren't aware of it.
But not anymore.
Slowly but surely you were coming around. 
You often heard his brothers tease him about his legs. You wondered if you should say something, but you never did.
Until tonight. When Sigurd decided to be cruel. Ivar was crawling on the floor towards Sigurd when he laughed and pulled the chair back, making Ivar fall. 
You hit the table and stood up. Your eyes locked with Sigurd's you felt everyone staring at you as the room went completely silent.
Sigurd smirked.
"Would the princess like to say something?" his mocking tone changed something inside you.
"We already know you have a tiny cock Sigurd. No need taunt my husband to try and prove otherwise." Sigurd's eyes nearly fell out of his head as Ubbe and Hvitserk laughed. Sigurd looked at Ivar before he walked out of the room, you sat back and finished your meal.
You had no idea what came over you. But you certainly didn't regret it.
"So, you do talk." said Ubbe and it made you look at him.
"Of course I do."
"You have fire in you. You'll be a great Viking." he said as he leaned back in his chair, smirking but you only looked back at your food as you ate. 
You didn't look at Ivar intentionally.
But he was looking at you.
You actually stood up for him. While everyone just sat there laughing, you actually stepped up and defended him. 
And he was grateful.
He had a feeling it wasn't out of pity but rather you had enough of his brother's teasing. 
Ivar smiled to himself as he headed back to his bed. Having his little wife defend him felt truly great. Before, only his mother stood up for him, but now, you did too.
Ivar knew you are afraid of him. It is clear in your actions. But as he pulled his shirt off and laid back in his bed, closing his eyes, all he could think about was you and how beautiful you looked as you told his brother off.
When you entered the room, your eyes were immediately drawn to Ivar. He looked to be asleep on the bed, furs pooling around his waist and his chest on full display.
You were rather taken aback. 
You have never seen him like this before. 
You were shocked. He looked so peaceful and soft. 
The tattoos adoring his chest only made his skin more stunning. The fireplace gave his skin a gorgeous glow. 
You wanted nothing more in that moment than to run your fingers over the ink on his skin.
You wanted nothing more than to kiss every inch.
He looked so comfortable, you wanted nothing more than be held by his arms.
Those strong arms.
You took silent steps, fearing you would wake him. But as you moved to lay down, he stirred as he turned and looked at you.
"I didn't mean to wake you." you said with a low voice. His eyes searched yours, slowly he moved in bed, slightly getting closer to you.
"Are you still afraid of me?" his sudden question made you question yourself.
Sure, during the last couple days, he had been nothing but kind to you.
And it did make you wonder.
He was surely not a monster.
"I don't know." your answer was honest, but you wouldn't say you were scared it was more cautious. 
Cautious because you feared you might have fallen in love with him. And you weren't sure what to do with these feelings.
"My father told me about you before I arrived and I don't think he was right."
"What did he tell you?"
"He told me you were a monster, covered in blood with a wicked smile. Tole me you were a rough man and I would be happy to live a day within your claws. But, I believe he was wrong." you looked down at your hands before looking up into his beautiful eyes. "You have been nothing but kind towards me. I heard you in the kitchen making sure everything was to my liking. You asked your mother for advice and I heard her talk with you about me. I judged you prematurely, and for that, I apologize."
"You are very different from us." he said moving to sit against the pillows. "Your dresses, your hair, the way you speak, eat. I'm simply mesmerised. I feel like I'm falling in love with you, yet don't know anything about you."
There was a moment of silence as you tried to process what he just told you.
"You can be angry and proud, but you can also be gentle and caring. I wouldn't say I love you Ivar, but I can say that I can see myself falling in love with you. I believe we could be happy together here in Kattegat."
"You defended me today. Only my mother did that before."
"I simply had enough of your brother. He believes teasing you would prove his strength but it only shows his weakness. I do like your family however. I do not have siblings, so it is nice to see."
"How many times did Hvisterk try and bed you?" you let out a sigh.
"About... five. But even so, he never touched or forced me. He just simply asked, which I always declined."
"I know you did. He would have told me if he fucked you."
"D-Don't say it like that, please! I wouldn't... sleep with your brother anyway. I believe in the unity of marriage it is sacred." 
"I know you do." Ivar smiled. "Whatever should I do to make you love me, you name it."
"I believe you are already doing enough just by being so patient with me. If you could... I-I would like to be your wife, not just the woman who sleeps in your room. I wish to be a real wife to you as you would be a real husband."
"Tell me what is it you mean by that." Ivar moved even closer, grabbing your hand and placing it on his chest. You looked deeper into his eyes.
"I wish for us to find love in one another. A companionship. I wish to be the one who can calm you when you are the most angry. I wish for us to kiss and make love. To have a future and a happy life."
"You speak so sweetly. Your father was not fully wrong however. I did kill many before and I will continue to do so. If that bothers you-"
"I doesn't. It is who you are. I see it now. It is how Viking's are. I do not want to change you. I quite like you the way you are."
"Even my legs?"
"I do not care for your legs. I believe God had to take something from you otherwise you would have been too powerful." your hand moved to his neck as you pulled him closer until your lips met his. 
You were still why and Ivar could sense that, so he decided to take lead and kiss you with passion.
He soon pulled back, "Now that we kissed, I believe it is time to make love." the way he said it, his accent made a shiver run down you spine, he moved you close to him, his lips finding your neck as his hand held your waist. 
You felt your hands shake but this time, it was more excitement than nervousness.
---
The next morning you woke up to a feeling rather strange, someone was holding you and you felt more tired than you should.
Then after just a second, the memories came back. 
Suddenly, you realized who the arms belonged to and just why you were naked.
It was very early as you could tell, Kattegat was still asleep.
And judging by the soft snores behind you, so was Ivar.
Last night was the first ever you spent with him, it was the perfect night. 
And now, feeling his breath on your neck as his arms held you to his chest, you felt at ease. You felt happy.
You managed to fall in love with the monster.
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cloudshuffle · 8 months ago
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spending time. yan!penacony
nobility au
Prince Aventurine
You consciously spend the most time with him by far - from the moment you open your eyes, there's breakfast, tea parties, lunches with him alone and dinners with his family. Up till the very moment he escorts you back to your room, leaving you with a kiss on the back of your hand at the door, you spend nearly every waking moment by Aventurine's side. It's undeniably comforting in many ways, knowing that you can rely on a familiar face if anything else.
But on the other hand, it's a little... suffocating. He's absolutely lovely towards you, but there's a certain way he looks at you - like he can't decide whether you'd look better in a birdcage or in a wedding gown.
Dr Veritas Ratio
Though not nearly as important as the prince himself, you're not spared from the pain of compulsory lessons - to get acclimatised to the history and politics of your home-to-be, so you're told. Your lessons are the few times you're apart from Aventurine (though not for lack of him trying to sit in. Ratio tells him he'll be a distraction and threatens to hit him with a book.)
He's a strict but frighteningly effective teacher, and you leave every lesson happy and knowing something new. He can be surprisingly kind too, giving you some leeway if you had a social engagement the night before and hadn't had time to revise.
Until butler Sunday comes looking for you in an urgent summon, citing a situation that relates to you personally. On your way, he tells you that he's never seen the professor so gentle with any of his students before, and that he never spends so much time on anyone personally.
You're not quite sure what to do with this information.
Sunday
You don't spend so much time with him as you do around him - he's a constant, lurking presence, waiting to attend to Aventurine when he's around, or looking after you when the prince gets busy and can't be by your side.
He's more unsettling than his prince is, and a lot more perceptive; but nonetheless, you find yourself making small talk with him sometimes. Sunday appears to gain special joy from fetching and carrying for you: making your favourite teas and cakes or perusing the library with you. Unusual for a butler, Sunday talks a lot, but you're content to listen and he offers you insights on a vast host of topics.
Boothill
A famous bounty hunter slash mercenary, with too-sharp teeth and a too-bright grin. He's charming but kind, and his company brings you some semblance of the days where you could walk the streets without need of a bodyguard. You're not naive enough to get close to him, however - everyone knows bounty hunters have their fair share of secrets, and you're sure so does he. You're not really sure what important things he might be doing in the palace, however, except for finishing all the toast at breakfast and following you around like he has nothing better to do.
Boothill spends most his days lounging around the gardens, shaving an apple with his knife and generally just giving the maids a scare. But when Aventurine can't be by your side, he tends to "just happen" to bump into you, quoting boredom and needing someone to pass the time with him. You let him accompany you to the library then, and tell him about inconsequential things, like the interesting bird you saw outside your window that morning or the new variety of Ratio's threats and insults.
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miley1442111 · 8 months ago
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nervous night- a.hotchner
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a/n: i imagined a fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)
you and aaron have jack (obvi) and a daughter, ellie. :) (2k + words)
summary: you see your sister for the first time in a long ti8me, things don't go so well.
pairing: husband/dad aaron hotchner x wife/mother reader
warnings: annoying family members, your sister is a narcissist, allusions to abuse, sad moments, aaron and reader shower together (not sexually)
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Nerves wracked your stomach. You hadn’t seen your sister in 4 years. Your sister was somewhat of a narcissist and practically made you her punching bag throughout childhood. She always had to be the centre of attention, always had to be pitied, and always had to be liked. It was exhausting. Now, you were a successful professor with a husband, a son, and a daughter. Aaron, Jack, and Ellie were the loves of your life, they were your favourite people on the planet. They had your back through everything, Aaron supported and loved you and your children were the most intelligent and polite kids on the earth. 
So, why were you so nervous for this dinner?
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When Aaron walked into the bathroom and saw the beautiful floor-length gown you had on for the evening, the flawlessly- applied makeup, and the beautiful way you had styled your hair, he was reminded of a fresh-out-of-the-academy you. Yes, you were younger than him, and yes, at the beginning he was named a ‘cradle-robber’ by the team but neither of you cared. You two were each other's everything. You had joined the BAU just after Haley’s death and Aaron and you grew close. It took about a year and a half before he made a move, since you didn’t want to take advantage of his fragile state. Since then, it’d had nothing but love between the two of you. A year of dating, marriage in Rossi’s backyard, and Ellie joining you only 9 months after the wedding. BUt when he first laid his eyes on you, he was sure you were an angel. You were so kind, so funny, so smart, so interesting. You were everything he wanted and more.
Years on, you were out of the BAU, a professor at a university nearby and Aaron had become a corporate lawyer.
“You look so beautiful,” Aaron smiled in the mirror as you fixed your earring. You rolled your eyes and chuckled. 
“You look pretty handsome yourself,” you smiled at him. His cheeks warmed and his smile widened. 
“The kids are ready,” As he was speaking, Jack walked in with Ellie behind him, an undone tie around his neck. 
“Mom!” Ellie smiled in your direction. You smiled at your grown children. Jack was 19 now, Ellie was 11. Ellie and you were so close, just like you were close with Jack. You started tying Jack’s tie without question as Aaron scoffed from behind you and Jack just smiled at you.
“What are you scoffing about?” You gave Aaron a playful kick and he rested a hand on your shoulder, standing behind you.
“I already did Jack’s tie,” he explained. “But he undid it so you could do it.”
“Mom does your tie every morning!” Jack reminded him and Aaron smiled, rolling his eyes. 
“I suppose,” he sighed as he picked up Ellie. “Are you excited for dinner Ellie?” 
Ellie squealed, trying to get out of her father’s arms as he mercilessly tickled her. You and Jack laughed at their shenanigans and you smiled at your lovely life. You adored your family.
You finished up Jack’s tie and gave him a hug, moving to grab your things when Aaron grabbed your waist. He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, right beside your ear and whispered. “You’ll do great, you’re incredible.”
Some of the weight on your chest lifted. 
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The dinner was in a very upscale restaurant, one Aaron had brought you to for your anniversary just a few months perviously. You sat nervously waiting on your sister as Aaron sat beside you, keeping the kids entertained with a story from your time in the BAU. As much as the BAU was a very traumatic time for the both of you, it was still an amazing part of your life. As Jack pretended to not know the ending and Ellie listened with bated breath, you smiled at your amazing family, a sense of immense pride radiating from you. 
Then they walked in. What you thought to be your sister, her dark hair the same but… everything different from what you’d remembered. She seemed tanner, different, more-expensive clothing on her, and clearly luxurious jewellery clung to her. Her husband, a short man called Pete with his signature pleasant smile on his face, and three children behind them, all staring down at phones. Your sister, Maeve sat opposite you, Pete opposite Aaron, Liam (her first born son) opposite Jack, Joey (her second child) opposite Ellie, and their youngest daughter, Elizabeth sitting in a seat beside her father. 
“Y/n! How are you?” She asked, her voice sickly sweet and far too loud for the atmospheric restaurant. 
“I’m good, how are you?” You smiled. Well, here goes nothing. 
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
She was still a narcissistic bitch. Her husband was so conditioned to her bullying it seemed to roll off him, but it hit you deep. Aaron could tell how upset you were getting at her ‘not-so-subtle’ jabs at your life and choices that he decided to commandeer the situation and talk about something both him and Pete could talk about, their shared job, being a lawyer. 
Pete was a mildly successful lawyer and Aaron could tell his family lived well beyond their means, something he’d noticed since the beginning of the dinner. The children were all dressed well, she was dressed well, but Pete was in a second-hand, or old shirt. 
Benefits of being a profiler, I guess. 
“So, what do you like to do Jack?” Maeve asked your son, interrupting Aaron. 
“I like soccer,” He smiled, his manners were shining through and you couldn’t have been more proud. “What do you like to do?”
“Oh, he’s so cute,” Maeve chuckled like he wasn’t even there. “Liam plays soccer too, don’t you Liam?” She asked him, nudging him to look up from the phone his eyes were glued to. 
“What?- Oh, yeah. I scored 7 goals this season,” he smirked. Jack’s interest was piqued, he loved soccer. 
“Cool! What team do you play with?” Jack asked.
“I’m kind of between teams at the minute, what about you?” 
Jack was not one to show off, but he had gotten a scholarship to Stanford on his soccer talent and it was something he’d been extremely proud of since he’d started going there last fall. “Umm,” he mumbled for a second. “Stanford. I’m the captain of the Stanford team.” 
Maeve’s jaw dropped. Liam’s jaw dropped. 
“You’re the captain of the Stanford team?” Liam asked, shocked.
“Yeah,” Jack smiled. Liam chuckled.
“Congratulations man, that’s awesome,” Liam shook Jack’s hand in a friendly manner and you were happy Jack was being acknowledged by his cousins. 
“And what about you, little miss?” Maeve asked, brushing off your son’s talent. 
“I play tennis and I’m in a competitive dance team,” she smiled. “I love tennis though, I probably prefer it to dance.”
"Wow, how amazing!" Maeve's over-exaggerated enthusiasm showed something else, her jealousy.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“So you’ve landed on your feet,” Maeve slurred. 
“I have,” you smiled as you watched your children chatting with their cousins in the garden, playing in the summer sunset. 
“The husband is pretty too,” she snorted, clearly far too drunk. “Might have to steal him.”
“There is no way you could steal me away from my wife,” Aaron phrased it like a joke, wrapping his arms around your waist, but everyone could tell it wasn’t.
Maeve fake-laughed as Pete smiled at the two of you.
“I can’t believe it, my baby-sister. You’re all grown up, taking care of a dead woman’s child and one of your own,” Maeve jabbed and you could feel your blood run cold. “I never thought you’d be a good mother, turns out I was right.”
“Pardon?” Aaron asked.
“I mean, yes, Jack is impressive but that was the work of your late wife, what’s her name again? Haley? And Y/n has Ellie in dance and tennis, I mean she clearly wants to give her daughter an eating disorder just like she had back in the day.”
Your heart dropped. You were so hurt by those words. 
“What the fuck did you just say to my mom?” Jack asked from the door to the backyard. Maeve had a triumphant smirk on her face. 
“Nothing that wasn’t true,” Maeve smirked. 
“Why do you always have to ruin stuff mom?!” Liam groaned. “They are actually cool and interesting people and you’re ruining our relationship with them because you’re jealous! Just give up!”
Shouting began. Maeve and Pete were shouting at Liam, Joey, and Elizabeth and they were shouting back. Ellie ran to you, burying her face in your side and you covered her ears. Jack settled himself beside you, letting you hug him close, his face in the crook of your neck. Jack and Ellie both hated shouting, they could not stand it. It reminded Jack of the day Haley died, and it reminded Ellie of a time you had gotten hurt on a case and been rushed to hospital, she had been with you when you were rushed to surgery and she could always remember the shouting of the doctors and nurses. 
“We’re leaving!” Pete demanded. 
“I fucking staying here, if Aaron and Y/n let me,” Liam shouted back. All shouting was silenced, and all eyes were on you two. You looked at Aaron and he nodded. 
“Of course you can stay here,” He assured his niece and nephews. “We’d be happy to have you.”
Pete and Maeve were deeply unhappy at that. 
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In the end, Liam, Joey, and Elizabeth stayed, Pete and Maeve practically disowning them and saying they would ‘drop their stuff off in the morning’. I mean, you had the extra space, you had three guest rooms in your house (one of Rossi’s houses you’d bought off him for a very substantial discount), and you truly did love them.
You tucked Ellie into bed and closed the door behind you, coming face to face with Liam.
“Thank you for letting us stay,” he said.
“Of course, we love you guys so much and you’re welcome here any time.”
“Thank you,” he said, pulling you into a hug. You could feel the small sobs wracking his body but you didn’t mention it, allowing him to cry into your neck.
“Do you want to go golfing with Jack and Aaron this weekend? You can offer it to Joey too. Ellie and I can take Elizabeth with us to get our nails done,” you offered, knowing they would probably be staying for a while. 
“That would be really nice,” he pulled away, smiling. “Thank you.”
“Anytime.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You knocked on Jack’s door, and he opened it immediately. 
“You alright?” You had barely got the question out before he wrapped you up in a bone-crushing hug. 
“I love you mom,” he stressed. “Thank you for letting them stay.”
You were kind of aware that Jack and Liam had been friends online in recent years, but clearly they knew each other better than you thought. 
“You two are close?” 
“He’s been telling me a bit about life with his parents and… it’s not good.”
You nodded, understanding what he meant. After sitting with him for some time, you wished him sweet dreams and moved to your own bedroom, exhaustion pulling at your eyes. 
You heard the shower running, knowing it was Aaron, you removed your makeup and clothes, then joined him. 
“Hi honey,” he smiled sympathetically. “How are you doing?”
“I’m here,” you yawned as his hands gripped your waist. “Looks like they’ll be staying for a while.”
“Should I look into papers?” he asked, grabbing some shampoo and softly running it through your hair. 
“Not yet,” you mumbled, allowing your eyes to close as he took care of you. 
“You looked so beautiful tonight,” he whispered against your skin as he kissed up your neck. 
“Thank you,” you smiled sleepily. “You looked very handsome.”
“Thank you,” he chuckled.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
After finishing up in the shower, Aaron escorted you straight to your bed, where he wrapped his arms around you and kissed you silly, whispering words of encouragement and thanks for your strength. 
"And how do you feel about it?" he asked after a few minutes.
"Like shit, I feel terrible for them, and then of course, everything she said to me-"
"You're an amazing person, and mother. Don't listen to people who don't know anything about you anymore. The only contact you two have had in the past few years is through social media. She barely knows who you are, so her opinion doesn't matter," He assured you, pressing small kisses along your collarbone.
"Then who's opinion matters?" You smiled back.
"Mine, and I think that you're the most incredible," a kiss. "intelligent," another kiss. "sexy," another kiss. "beautiful," another kiss. "deserving of love and praise," a kiss to your lips. "Human being on the planet."
The chuckle as he continued his kisses and soft words and fell asleep quickly. He watched you for a moment, appreciating your beauty.
You were perfect. 
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
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the-fiction-witch · 6 months ago
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Missed You
Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Jacaerys Velaryon Couple - Jacaerys X Reader Reader - Y/n Rating - Sexy / Flirty Word Count - 784
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Prince Jacaerys Velaryon lay in bed. His chamber in dragonstone fitting of his station, high in one of the castle's towers carved from deep black stone, with grand dragons, red and black fabrics everywhere. The fire burning low almost out, the sun yet to fully peak over the horizon but the sky was light enough to see, the heat of the volcanic island being pumped into each room making it all warm and comfortable Jacaerys laid in his bed his nude body cradled but black silk, his dark curls laid loose around the pillows, his high valerian book on the bedside table.
The door of his chamber opens causing him to stir still half asleep, he slowly sits up from his peaceful slumber and slowly blinks at the sight of his future wife in her skimpy red nightgown. “Y/n…?” he whispers groggily, still partially asleep and with his vision still blurred from his deep sleep.
Y/n cooed sweetly sitting on his bed and running her hand though his dark locks "sh sh sh,"
Jace still halfasleep smiled at her soothing touch, and in return began running his calloused fingers underneath her red silk nightgown and up Y/n’s thigh to her hip. “Why are you here so early?” he groaned, his eyes closed with his cheeks softly blushing.
Y/n shrugged "I woke early, I thought I would come and gently wake you, see how you slept,"
Jace sighed gently, smiling at the feeling of her smooth fingers playing with his hair. “I slept wonderfully, my love,” he replies, his fingers dancing across the smooth skin of her hip and up her body, caressing her stomach. He sits up more and takes a deep breath, inhaling the musky and soothing scent of her perfume a mixture of rosemary and lavender that filled his nostrils. “How can you smell so good, even at this hour?” he chuckles, slowly sitting up on the bed and planting a soft kiss on her shoulder.
"I knew I was coming to see you so I made sure to wear your favourite perfume," she cooed stroking the tip of her nose against his batting at him much how a dragon would bat at its mate
Jace smiled at her, a soft chuckle of contentment escaping his lips while his fingers slipped out of her red silk gown, slowly pulling her onto his lap. “Did you now, my love? How thoughtful.” he smirked a little, “You’re in a playful mood, aren’t you?” Jacaerys continued, his hands roaming under her nightgown once again.
"I have meerly missed you while you've been away..." She pouts
Jace gently took her chin with his calloused fingers, gently tilting the soft skin of her face so their noses were touch and he could kiss her lips soft and sweetly. “Have you missed my company? My body against yours?” he asked, the words slipping out of his mouth like velvet lace.
She nodded stroking her soft hands against his bare chest "I always miss you, all that has kept me sane all this time has been thinking of your return... And our... Upcoming ceremony"
Jace’s fingers slowly slipped up her nightgown, feeling her soft and pale skin as his thumb traced over her ribs. “You can’t wait until our wedding day, my love?” he said, his mouth softly pressing kisses into her shoulders while his fingertips danced along her skin. “I assure you that it’s all I daydream about, either. You’re my future queen, my future wife.”
"it is only a few more weeks and then we shall be married, and we will get to cosy up every night and wake each other with kisses each morning"
Jace’s hands slowly move up from her ribs to her chest, his calloused fingers tracing along her collarbone while his tongue softly kisses her neck. “Mhmm, I can’t wait to wake up next to you every morning… and hold you every night, my love…” he whispered against her throat, his calloused thumb slowly tracing her chest.
she giggled as his fingers tickled her "it shall be heavenly jacaerys" she cooed tipping his chin up so their eyes met and she wasted no time making their lips met too
He softly closes his eyes and loses himself in her kiss, his arms wrapped around her thin frame as he slowly lays her on her back against the soft silk of his sheets. The kiss was slow yet passionate, deep yet soft just how he liked to kiss her. He pulled away after a few moments, his mouth parted for a second before speaking against her own. “Gods, how I’ve missed your kisses, my love...”
“I have missed far more then just your kisses Jacaerys,” She cooed pulling him down to kiss her once more, 
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hannibals-favourite-meal · 3 months ago
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Hi~~
I kinda here for the 6k
I am a huge fan of you btw.. I loved Ur eached and every batfamily plus Clark Kent stories
So can I get a sweet arranged marriage turn into love with Bruce or clerk ( can't pick between them)
I leave most decision upto you as I trust you just make it fluffy
And congratulations on your 6k. You deserve it
Thanks and bye
.⋆。What is a Marriage。⋆.
Bruce Wayne x plus size reader
It is your wedding day, a joyous occasion for all, except you and your new husband
Warnings: regency!au, arranged marriage, misogyny, mention of drug rings, fluff WC: 909
6k Bingo Celebration
Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library
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For as long as you could remember, you were taught that you would marry a lord and a rich one at that. While your brothers would marry to carry on your family’s name, you would be responsible for another family, another home and any children that your husband saw fit to give you. You would belong to a man that your father believed would be the most capable of giving the entire family a chance to climb the social ladder. 
Part of you was excited for your debut upon the marriage mart. You dreamed of the gorgeous balls and beautiful gowns you would wear to catch the eye of a gentleman who would spoil you rotten with love and affection. Your mother’s sisters constantly told you stories of magical evenings with their future husbands as they began to court. 
Yet only a few before your debut, those dreams were stomped out by your father’s announcement that you would be wed to a man you had never met in a week’s time. Shamefully, your escape attempts though childish, were unsuccessful and only served to have your last remaining privilege of choosing your own wedding dream taken away.
And so, here you were, sitting at someone else’s table, eating food picked out by a stranger as you sat next to your new husband whom you’ve already forgotten the name of. This was definitely not how you pictured your Wedding Breakfast, alone save for your husband and his butler, your father hadn’t even the decency to let your mother attend.
You sighed and picked up the newspaper your husband had abandoned a few minutes ago. Your husband’s blue eyes flicked over to you but you ignored him. The smudged ink of the headline drew your attention; ‘Masked Vigilante Exposes Drug Ring’. It made you scoff.
“Is there something the matter?” His deep voice cut through the silence of the dining room, aggravatingly sending a shiver down your spine. You refused to look at him.
“This vigilante, it seems he’s doing a better job at protecting Gotham than the police. A damn shame they’re incapable of doing their jobs properly.” You flicked to the next page, pretending to read as you gauged his reaction. Would your husband punish you for swearing and belittling other men as your father would have done? You were met only with the soft clink of silverware and the footsteps of his butler.
“More coffee Master Bruce?” 
“Yes, thank you Alfred.” Bruce (what a modern name) cleared his throat and you finally made eye contact with him. “Are you a fan of this vigilante?” His voice tilted up like your brothers’ did when they teased you. 
You twisted the heavy ring on your finger, your stomach tight as you waited for the inevitable cruel punchline of his joke. “He’s doing something to protect people. I think it’s noble.” His lips quirked up and you couldn’t help but remember the brief peck you had shared an hour ago, your first kiss.
“Do you?” A flash of anger burned in your stomach as heat crawled up your cheeks. 
“Don’t patronise me.” Suddenly, his expression dropped. You watched him stutter over his words as he scrambled to explain what he meant. Alfred chuckled under his breath while he took your full plate of eggs and instead replaced it with some fresh fruit pastries. 
“I didn’t- I wasn’t,” his broad shoulders dropped, “I’m sorry.” He almost looked like a sad puppy like this, his head lowered, eyes wide with a genuine remorse, his fluffy brown hair hanging down along his strong cheekbones. You almost felt bad about your outburst, almost. 
“What is it that you want from this marriage? Children? A wife to obey your every whim? Who turns a blind eye to your indiscretions?” You hissed but he didn’t flinch, only taking a deep breath before he stood and rounded the table. Instead of pulling out the empty chair next to you, he knelt beside you, his hands taking yours.
“I want a companion, that is all. I know you had no choice in this marriage, and for that I apologise, it is not how I wanted this to go. But I can give you independence and freedom just by giving you my name and my wallet. I only ask that you humour me with trips to the city together, the opera, anywhere, as long as society sees us together.” He twisted your ring back so the bright purple amethyst sat right against your knuckle once more.
“I can do whatever I want?” 
He reached up and gently cupped your cheek. “I am your servant. Ask me for anything, and it is yours.” Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you nuzzled into his foreign yet comforting touch.
“And what if I ask for your heart?” 
“Then it is yours.” He said with a smirk and you couldn’t help but believe him. And as he leaned over to press a gentle kiss to the back of your hand and then to your cheek, you wondered if this was what your mother’s sisters meant when they said that you would just know if he was the one.
Perhaps you could be more than a commodity to be sold. Maybe Bruce could be more than the man who bought you. You glanced at the headline again as another feeling stirred in your gut. Perhaps, there was more to life than what you had been told.
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warwickroyals · 11 months ago
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WARWICK - Mrs. Kennedy Wedding Gown
For Black History Month, I wanted to attempt a gown from one of my favourite African American designers. Ann Lowe was born in Clayton, Alabama in 1898. Ann, who came from a family of seamstresses, had a passion for fashion and dress-making. She would eventually go on to open a dressmaking business which was frequented by many in high society. One of these partons was Janet Lee Auchincloss, who commissioned Ann to design the wedding dress of her daughter, Jacqueline. Jacqueline Bouvier's silk taffeta wedding dress is one of the twentieth century's most recognizable pieces of wedding fashion.
Despite designing gowns for the upper class, Ann was underpaid and neglected throughout her career. I hope to make more of her gowns because she was a talented dressmaker who deserves her flowers.
One gown
Teen to Elder
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Custom thumbnails + disabled for random
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jamespotterismydaddy · 1 year ago
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Lord Husband (Chapter 5)
cregan x reader
word count: 1,606 words
series masterlist
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A private carriage. You thank the gods for small victories. Being locked in a small box for a month with nobody but Cregan Stark for company would’ve been the thing that pushed you over the edge of insanity. Or, you likely would have killed him.
Perhaps it was more his safety they are concerned over rather than my comfort. You think to yourself.
The preparations for your departure have been immensely extravagant and your mother has already commissioned ten new dresses and five nightgowns just to tie you over until the royal family flies in for the wedding. You’ll spend another whole month courting Cregan (in Winterfell this time) before the ceremony and you don’t know if you want the spectacle to be drawn out more to prolong your unmarried freedom or if you just want it to be over with.
You ignore the thoughts as you make your way down to the courtyard with Baela and Rhaena on each arm and Ser Robert trailing after you.
“I’m going to miss you awfully.” Rhaena says sentimentally. 
“You’ll have to write to me with every bit of court gossip. Gods know that the boys won’t do a very good job at keeping me filled in.” You roll your eyes dramatically, trying to keep it all lighthearted.
“You’ll write to us plenty as well, tell us all about the joys of marriage.” Baela says with a little smirk.
“I hardly believe there’ll be many joys to rave about.” You say with a scoff.
“I wouldn’t be so sure. From what i’ve heard, northern men are very good with… their tongues.” The elder twin says scandalously. You think you hear Ser Robert choke on water from behind you.
“Baela!” Rhaena scolds but she giggles too.
“I don’t want his tongue anywhere near me.” You say as you shoot her a glare.
“Then you are as dumb as you are pretty.” You roll your eyes at this.
“His assumed skills don’t matter if I do not like him.” You say primly.
“You don’t have to like him to appreciate the look of him.” Baela says as she lifts a hand to inspect her nails.
“I agree. You know what they say about men with large hands…” Rhaena trails off and you glare at her as well.
“Do not team up against me.” You say.
“We are only trying to help you to look on the bright side. You’ll be with him for the rest of your lives.” Rhaena says softly. It’s a thought that you don’t really want to think about.
“Perhaps after I give him a son, we will become estranged and he will allow me to retire to Dragonstone.” You reply wistfully. The twins exchange a look.
“And what of your son?” 
You sigh and say, “Any child I have will be his, not mine.”
“But they will also be Valyrians. They could be dragonriders. They will need a Valyrian to teach them.” Baela says. The idea of a child with a dragon, not knowing its history, not knowing how to care for it, is a sad thought.
“Motherhood is as noble a path as any.” Rhaena says, in an attempt to make you feel better.
“Not if it’s forced.”
There is an awkward silence after that and you feel bad, being the one who caused it. Your closest friends, your sisters, they only wanted to comfort you, to make you excited about the journey and you’ve made them feel bad for trying.
“I do quite like some of the dresses her Grace commissioned for me, though.” You say with a little grin and both of the girls light up.
“Oh yes, they’re all so beautiful. I don't know if I could even pick a favourite.” Rhaena gushes.
“I can.” Baela says. “The deep maroon velvet one. Ugh, the sleeves on it are to die for. It’s far too hot to be wearing such fashion in King’s Landing. We’d be sweltering.” Baela pouts a little at that but then grins. “You’ll be the icon of the North when it comes to gowns.”
“I intend to be the icon of the North when it comes to everything.” You say with a faux level of superiority as you come around to the stairs that go down to the courtyard.
There are many nobles waiting to see you off and Cregan Stark stands right at the front, waiting for you and looking as disgustingly handsome as ever. You ignore him and make your way to the ladies who won’t be accompanying you first, hugging them and trying not to tear up. You hope Cregan is offended by how you brush by him. Then, you reach your siblings. Your goodbyes to your family are short and proper, you’ll see them at the wedding anyhow. Your goodbye with your mother is… tense if nothing else. 
You turn to Cregan at this point, knowing that you need to have a public interaction before you get into your carriage. Even if you enjoy being the centre of attention, you don’t want to waste the creation of gossip if you’re not there to see how it all goes down.
Lord Stark bows deeply. “Princess, I am glad to be accompanying you to your new home.”
“I thank you for your protection on the long trip that lies ahead of us.” You say in response, your voice cordial and dripping with charisma. 
“It is my honour.” He holds out a hand and you take it, allowing him to help you up the steps, into the carriage. Your two handmaidens follow after you. When the door shuts, you sigh, ready for the long trip to be over already.
~~~
As the trip properly starts, you begin to remember how much you hate carriage rides. Short ones are usually fine but you’ve been sitting in the wheeled contraption for hours now and it's making you awfully dizzy.
“Your Grace? Are you well?” Rose, your handmaiden, speaks up. She looks concerned for your state.
“I am fine. I perhaps just need to rest for a moment.” You say, a bit breathlessly, as you shift to lay down, resting your head in your other handmaiden’s lap.
“Are you sure, princess? You look a little green.” Safia speaks up as she begins to stroke your hair.
“It’s this stupid carriage. And the road for seven hells. How can it be so uneven?” You groan and Safia starts to rub your temples.
“It is awful, I know.” She soothes but her kind words don’t help. You just feel more and more nauseous.
“Oh gods.” You groan.
“Princess, are you going to be sick?” Rose asks, and to your dismay, you believe you are about to be sick.
You nod a little and she stands, banging on the roof. “Stop the carriage!” She calls out to the driver.
Before you’re even fully stopped, Rose pushes open the door and Safia helps you to your feet. You stumble out of the carriage and unceremoniously, onto the grass. You fall to your hands and knees, breathing heavily. You thank the gods when you don’t actually throw up and the churning of your stomach begins to slow with the help of a stationary position and fresh air.
“What is happening? Is the princess alright?” 
Oh gods why does he have to see this? You think to yourself as the young Lord Stark’s voice rings through the air.
“The movement of the carriage makes her unwell, my lord.” Safia says.
“Oh of course.” He murmurs and wanders off for a moment. You feel hopeful that he just decided to leave you but he’s back before you know it and kneeling by your side. “Here, eat this.” He says and gives you a gentle smile as he holds out ginger for you.
“Why would I eat tha-” He seems to know that you were going to kick up a fuss so as you are mid-sentence, he puts the piece of ginger in your mouth.
“Chew.” He says simply. Your eyes are wide and you want to refuse but you also don’t necessarily want to spit it out like a spoiled child. So, you apprehensively begin to chew the root, trying not to make a face at the peppery flavour. “Good.” He speaks again. “You’ll feel better now.” You think he looks far too pleased as he stands up in front of you and offers you his hand. You begrudgingly take it and he pulls you up with so much ease that you hardly even had to try and stand.
You brush your skirts off, feeling spiteful even if Cregan just helped you.
He just looked far too smug about it. You assure yourself as you make your way back into your carriage. 
Before the door is closed, your betrothed speaks up, “Perhaps I could join you, princess. Just to make sure you’re feeling better.” The smile he gives you is almost sneaky, as if there is some sort of hidden innuendo in there. You feel that he enjoys toying with you.
“That would be terribly improper.” You speak only loud enough for him to hear.
“Yes, of course.” He says but the cheeky grin never fades, even as he walks to his horse.
“Strange.” Rose says. “Most lords would enjoy the comforts of a carriage themselves.”
“Perhaps it would be an excuse to sneak into here.” Safia says scandalously. 
“Then he shall be perpetually disappointed.” You say as you settle into your seat.
The procession begins to move again and through all the bumps and uneven roads, and as more time passes, the nausea that plagued you never returns. 
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cartierre · 2 years ago
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DIVINE FEMININE | cl16
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SOCIAL MEDIA!AU charles leclerc x fem!reader
side note: i purposefully left out any tweets because this focuses more on the aesthetics side note pt.2: thank you @cl16version for the photo inspirations!
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♡ liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc and 115,923 others
tagged: yourusername
viviennewestwood yourusername wears a custom wedding gown created just for her beautiful wedding to Formula One driver charles_leclerc in the South of France last weekend.
"When I was younger I always liked to imagine what my future wedding dress would look like. As soon as I met Vivienne at a fashion show, I knew she had to be part of it. I feel very honoured to have worked with her and other amazing designers on my look. It felt like a dream come true." ~ Y/N Leclerc
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user1 imagine having THE vivienne westwood custom design your wedding dress ⤷ user2 thank god charles has money because otherwise that dream would've stayed a dream
yourusername still baffled by all the amazing looks you created for me to wear throughout the night! what an honour! comment liked by viviennewestwood
user3 the way they wrote 'Y/N Leclerc' has me in tears (in an emotional way) ⤷ user4 i still can't get over the fact they truly married. i'm so happy for them
user5 Y/N LOOKS SO STUNNING ⤷ user6 the most beautiful bride
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♡ liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 312,845 others
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daniel3.jpg unpaid, personal photographer
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user7 i want a whole documentary about what happened at this wedding ⤷ user8 it looks so much fun i'm so envious of all the guests that attended ⤷ user9 i know everyone who had to cancel is fighting the air right now
yourusername the picture of charles is my new favourite ⤷ daniel3.jpg same, same
user10 i love how with every slide the drunkeness scale rapidly increases ⤷ user11 as it should
charles_leclerc yes, we definitely enjoyed ourselves ⤷ daniel3.jpg the champagne was endless
user12 it's so funny that daniel is the first one to post about the wedding. he is really their number one fan ⤷ user13 i mean he was the one to introduce y/n to charles ⤷ user14 it's like he's watching his two babies getting married
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♡ liked by charles_leclerc, lilymhe, sofiarichie and 273,976 others
tagged: charles_leclerc
yourusername to love & to cherish
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user15 i love how she just has multiple wedding dresses ⤷ user16 she's that kind of indecisive
charles_leclerc mon seul et unique amour (my one and only love) ⤷ yourusername i love it when you speak french
danielricciardo i want nieces and nephews in an instant ⤷ yourusername who said you'd be their uncle ⤷ danielricciardo that's not even a question
carlossainz55 felicidades ⤷ yourusername thank you
user17 i just know nicola peltz is crying in her sleep right now ⤷ user18 nicola really thought she ate until y/n stepped up
lilymhe i still have tears in my eyes from how beautiful it was ⤷ yourusername wouldn't have been as beautiful as it was without such an organised maid of honour ⤷ lilymhe i was so scared something would go wrong
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♡ liked by yourusername, arthur_leclerc, pierregasly and 1,027,329 others
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charles_leclerc mon tout (my everything)
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user19 you know they're rich because not only did y/n have multiple custom made wedding gowns, but charles also had multiple suits ⤷ user20 did you expect anything less from them?
yourusername i love you so incredibly much ⤷ charles_leclerc i'm the luckiest man alive
user21 this is my royal wedding ⤷ user22 my met gala
scuderiaferrari congratulazioni! così felice per te! (congratulations! so happy for you!) comment liked by charles_leclerc
arthur_leclerc i still can't believe my big brother is finally married ⤷ charles_leclerc did you not believe in my charm? ⤷ arthur_leclerc honestly, no ⤷ yourusername it was actually my charm that got you wrapped around my fingers
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♡ liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, pierregasly and 472,065 others
lando.jpg "the wedding of the decade"
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user23 why did it never occur to me that there'd be LITERAL CELEBRETIES attending their wedding ⤷ user24 yeah like you're telling me timmy, billie, zoe, bella and kendall were there? a fever dream, if you'd ask me ⤷ user25 this just makes me question who else was there
user26 this is just so fucking random hahahaha
yourusername i love how these are all pictures i have never seen before! next time i'll hire you and daniel professionally ⤷ charles_leclerc what do you mean "next time" ⤷ user27 Y/N HAHAHAHAHA
user28 the more pictures i'm seeing of this wedding, the more the desire comes for me to get married as well ⤷ user29 literally never wanted to get married until now
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inky-duchess · 1 year ago
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Etiquette of the Edwardian Era and La Belle Époque: Tea
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This is a new set of posts focusing on the period of time stretching from the late 19th century to the early 20th Century right up to the start of WWI. I'll be going through different aspects of life. This series can be linked to my Great House series as well as my Season post and Debutant post.
Today will be focusing on the rules of tea with this time period.
Tea was a staple in society, not only as a comforting beverage but as a social gathering beset by strict rules. Etiquette at tea is not only important for guests but is a sign of respect to one's host.
High Tea vs Afternoon Tea
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You're reading both terms and you're thinking high tea is the formal version and afternoon is informal. In fact, no. It is the opposite. High tea was actually served far later, about 6pm/7pm and focused on more savoury, substantial dishes. High tea was more of a lower class tradition, designed to fill the stomachs of hungry workers. The word "high" is derived from the tall tables used. Afternoon tea is served at 4pm, designed to fill the gap between lunch and dinner. Afternoon tea is served at low tables with all the guests seated and involve a lighter meal, more nibbles than anything.
Hosting and Attending Tea
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Tea is an event that happens every day, it's not an excuse for a snack, it's a ritual. One can have tea served in one's own home or at the home of a friend. One must be invited to tea, one can't just show up and expect to get fed. Tea was typically served in libraries or drawing rooms and done times outside in the gardens if weather permits. One had to dress for tea usually in comfortable but appropriate clothing. Men would wear suits, women would wear tea gowns or a simple gown - keeping their hats upon their head, if they are visiting. Tea was not poured by the footman but by the host or if it is a large party, by one assigned guest. The hostess or designated tea pourer would serve themselves last.
The Tea Set
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Tea sets are highly coveted and much remarked upon at tea. One would usually inherit a service (that's what the collection was called) or be gifted it at one's wedding. Services would all match and most households had different kinds, the best usually reserved for important guests.
Teapot: the tea pot held the hot water and tea leaves was was usually made of china and decorated.
Cups: the cups were generally low, shallow.
Saucer: a small plate for the cup to rest on
Tea cannister: where dried tea leaves would rest until needed.
Sugar bowl: was a small container made of china with a cover to protect the sugar from moisture.
Milk jug: a container for the milk
Slop basin: was a porcelain dish used for disposing tea leaves left behind with the dregs of tea.
Tea spoon: small spoon used to stir tea
Side Plate: small serving plate used for food.
As you might have noticed, other than a tea spoon, cutlery is not listed. There would be a spoon for jam and a knife for a scone, most food was designed to be eaten with one's hands.
There is also one instrument not listed here and it's the most recognisable thing at afternoon tea.
The Tiered Tray
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The tiered tray is a set of trays stacked upon one another holding on each one, a different course. Sandwiches and savouries were served on the bottom (Favourites include smoked salmon, cucumber, cress, egg salad sandwiches), scones on the second and sweeter delights served on the top (sponge cake, macaroons, pastries etc). One would begin ay the bottom and work one's way upward.
Making the Perfect Cup of Tea in the Edwardian Era/Belle Epoque/Gilded Age
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Disclaimers: Let's make one thing clear. Tea is not prepared one way for all. Tea is culturally important across the world and every culture has their own rules about how tea is consumed and served. There's no one right way.
I will be discussing the English way of brewing tea in this post.
As mentioned before, tea is held in a cannister before use. Tea leaves were added to the hot water and lightly stirred.
Controversially for most people, milk was commonly added first.
One would then set a strainer in one's cup, tilting the pot. The strainer will catch the leaves and leave your cup almost tea-pulp free.
With the tea added, one could add in sugar. The trick is not to make a show about it or be too loud. One simply should gently turn your spoon from the 6 o'clock position to the 12 o'clock position. Also, the spoon rests on the saucer when not in use and doesn't stay in your cup.
When drinking your tea, put your pinky down. That's an American myth. Simply lift your cup to you, lifting the cup to your mouth by the handle. Saucers are not lifted unless your cup is far away. Don't slurp it, there's plenty more where that came from.
Etiquette at Tea
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Afternoon tea is for light conversation, do avoid heavy topics.
Listen attentively when being spoken to.
Don't talk with your mouth full or stuff your mouth. Typically everything should be polished off with 2-3 bites.
Gloves should be removed at tea because one is eating with their fingers.
If one is leaving the table to go to the bathroom or a breath of air, simply turn to your neighbours and excuse yourself. No explanation needed.
Napkins should be removed from the table and set across one's lap when one is sitting down. When finished with tea, set it beside your plate before you rise.
Also you daub, not smear.
Don't cut your scone but break it.
Don't lick your fingers.
Don't bang the spoon on the side of the cup.
Also there's no dunking biscuits into your tea. It's just not done at afternoon tea.
Never thank the staff for fetching anything - or at very least, don't be overhead doing so.
Always say your goodbyes to the hostess and compliment the tea, even if you had a rubbish time.
Also most importantly, never criticise somebody else's manners. That's the height of rudeness.
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mioons · 7 months ago
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almost
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pairing. lee heeseung x fem. reader
genre. angst, “what could have been” wc. 299 warnings. none
— a series of things heeseung almost did. but he never did. extra. it’s not even sad trust me 💔 also this is my parting gift i am living in the woods for 2 nights 😿
he bought you flowers. your favourites. your favourite species. he wanted to see your eyes light up when he gave you the flower, see you tiptoe just to give his cheek a kiss as thanks. the scent still lingers on his blouse from when he held it for too long, unsure if he should give it to you. he almost did.
but he never did.
he bought you a valentine’s day gift, wrote you a card with hearts around your name and everything. he got you that album you really wanted, wrapped it up with pink gift wrapping. it’s still in his room, collecting dust on the shelves. he almost gave it to you.
but he never did.
he almost said “i love you.” the words were on the tip of his tongue. he wanted to say i love you to the point you’d get sick of hearing it and had to shut him up with a kiss. he wanted to say i love you with his actions too. spoil you with gifts and hugs and all his love. he didn’t say it even once. though he almost said it to you.
but he never did.
he wanted to confess to you. tell you how you meant the world to him; how you were the centre of his universe. he wants to hold your hand and whisper sweet nothings into your ear, tell you that he loved you to the moon and back. he almost confessed.
but he never did.
god you look breathtaking in your wedding gown, so beautiful—an angel disguised as a human he thinks. but he won’t ever get to tell you these thoughts because now you’re walking down the aisle to marry the love of your life. it could’ve been him.
but it wasn’t him.
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luvlyhee 2024 :: taglist open ,, send an ask to be added!!
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