#modern party wear gown

[samkkshopping]

Next-Level Chic: The Guide to Indo-Western Gowns

In the kaleidoscope of fashion, where tradition meets modernity, Indo Western dresses for women shine brightly as a symbol of cultural fusion and contemporary elegance. From Indo Western bridal gowns to chic designer evening gowns, these outfits effortlessly blend the richness of Indian heritage with the sophistication of Western silhouettes. Whether it’s a wedding, an engagement party, or any special occasion, embracing the allure of Indo Western attire adds a unique charm to your ensemble.

Let’s dive into this blog if you are “Confused About Indo-Western Fashion?” and want to Level Up Your Look

Samyakk: Your Gateway to Stunning Indo Western Attire

When it comes to finding the perfect blend of tradition and trend, Samyakk stands out as a beacon of style and sophistication. Renowned for its exquisite collection of Indo Western dresses in Bangalore, Samyakk offers a mesmerizing array of options to elevate your wardrobe.

Indulge in Luxury: Designer Indo Western Outfits

Step into the world of opulence with designer Indo Western outfits curated to perfection. From intricately embellished Indo Western bridal gowns to statement-making evening gowns for party, every creation exudes unmatched craftsmanship and elegance. Whether you prefer classic silhouettes or contemporary designs, there’s a designer piece waiting to adorn you with grace and glamour.

Elegance Personified: Indo Western Evening Gowns

For those special evenings when you want to make a lasting impression, Indo Western evening gowns are your go-to choice. With their flowing fabrics, exquisite embroidery, and flattering cuts, these gowns effortlessly capture the essence of sophistication. Whether it’s a grand reception or an intimate engagement ceremony, stepping out in an Indo Western evening gown ensures all eyes are on you, radiating confidence and grace.

Unveiling the Charm: Wedding Gowns Online

In the age of digital convenience, finding the perfect wedding gown is just a click away. Explore a plethora of options with wedding gowns online, where you can browse through an extensive collection from the comfort of your home. From traditional wedding gowns for bride to contemporary interpretations, the online platform offers a seamless shopping experience, allowing you to choose your dream gown with ease.

Redefining Elegance: Reception Gowns for Bride

Make a stunning entrance on your special day with exquisite reception gowns for bride. Adorned with intricate details and luxurious fabrics, these gowns epitomize elegance and grace. Whether you prefer a voluminous ball gown or a sleek mermaid silhouette, there’s a reception gown that reflects your personal style and enhances your bridal glow.

Luxury Redefined: Heavy Gowns for Wedding

For the bride who dreams of a fairy-tale wedding, heavy gowns for wedding are a quintessential choice. Embellished with shimmering crystals, delicate lace, and intricate embroidery, these gowns exude luxury and grandeur. Steal the spotlight as you glide down the aisle in a majestic ensemble that captures the essence of romance and regality.

Captivating Beauty: Evening Gowns for Engagement

Celebrate love and romance in style with mesmerizing evening gowns for engagement. Whether it’s a glamorous cocktail party or an intimate gathering, these gowns make a statement with their effortless charm and allure. Embrace the joy of new beginnings as you dazzle in an ensemble that embodies the essence of elegance and sophistication.

Timeless Elegance: Western Gowns for Wedding

For the modern bride who values tradition with a twist, Western gowns for wedding offer a perfect blend of classic beauty and contemporary flair. With their clean lines and understated elegance, these gowns make a chic statement that transcends time and trends. Embrace your individuality as you walk down the aisle in a gown that reflects your unique style and personality.

Discover the Essence of Timeless Elegance: Samyakk’s Collection of Indo Western Dresses

In the realm of Global Fashion, where cultures intertwine seamlessly, Indo Western dresses for women stand out as a testament to the beauty of fusion. At Samyakk, we celebrate the rich tapestry of Indian Fashion by offering a curated collection of exquisite Indo Western ensembles that cater to the modern woman’s discerning taste.

From traditional wedding gowns for bride to contemporary interpretations, our diverse range showcases the diversity of Indian craftsmanship and the sophistication of Western silhouettes. Whether you’re searching for a timeless Ball Gown or a chic Cocktail Gown for your special occasion, we have something to suit every style and preference.

For those who seek convenience without compromising on style, explore our selection of Ready To Ship Evening Gown. Crafted with precision and attention to detail, these gowns are perfect for last-minute events and impromptu celebrations.

Indulge in the allure of intricate embroidery with our Embroidered Tissue Indowestern Gown, a masterpiece that combines traditional techniques with contemporary design elements. Elevate your look with the timeless elegance of silk or opt for the ethereal beauty of net and organza in our collection of Net & Organza Evening Gown and Silk Evening Gown.

Planning for a sangeet ceremony? Make a statement in our captivating Sangeet Gowns that exude grace and charm, capturing the essence of Indian festivities with a modern twist.

Browse through our extensive range of gowns for Indian wedding reception with price to find the perfect ensemble that fits your budget without compromising on style. With transparent pricing and impeccable craftsmanship, we ensure a seamless shopping experience that exceeds your expectations.

Experience the epitome of style and sophistication with Samyakk, your ultimate destination for exquisite Indo Western attire. Whether you’re attending a grand soirée or a casual gathering, our collection of Buy Gown Online guarantees to elevate your ensemble and leave a lasting impression.

A Symphony of Style: Gowns for Bride

Every bride deserves to feel like royalty on her special day, and gowns for bride ensure just that. Whether you envision a fairy-tale princess or a sophisticated queen, there’s a gown that complements your bridal vision and celebrates your unique love story. From ethereal ball gowns to sleek sheath dresses, find the perfect ensemble that makes you feel like the epitome of grace and beauty.

Embrace Elegance: Fancy Gowns for Every Occasion

Indulge in the allure of fancy gowns that elevate your style quotient for every occasion. Whether it’s a black-tie event or a festive celebration, these gowns add a touch of glamour and sophistication to your ensemble. With their exquisite craftsmanship and attention to detail, fancy gowns make a lasting impression, ensuring you stand out in a crowd with effortless elegance.

Frequently Asked Questions (FAQs)

What makes Indo Western dresses unique? A: Indo Western dresses seamlessly blend traditional Indian elements with modern Western silhouettes, offering a distinctive style that appeals to contemporary tastes while honoring cultural heritage.

Why choose designer evening gowns from Samyakk? A: Samyakk’s designer evening gowns are meticulously crafted with exquisite detailing and superior quality fabrics, ensuring you stand out with elegance and sophistication at any special occasion.

How can I find the perfect wedding gown online? A: Samyakk offers an extensive collection of wedding gowns online, allowing you to browse through various styles, sizes, and price ranges conveniently from the comfort of your home, ensuring you find the perfect gown that fits your vision and budget.

What sets Samyakk apart in terms of customer experience? A: Samyakk prioritizes customer satisfaction by offering a hassle-free shopping experience, transparent pricing, and prompt customer support, ensuring a seamless journey from browsing to delivery.

Are Samyakk’s Indo Western dresses suitable for all occasions? A: Yes, Samyakk’s versatile collection of Indo Western dresses caters to various occasions, including weddings, receptions, parties, and formal events, ensuring you find the perfect ensemble that complements your style and makes you feel confident and elegant.

Conclusion:

In conclusion, the allure of Indo Western dresses for women lies in their ability to seamlessly blend tradition with modernity, as showcased in our collection of designer evening gowns and wedding gowns online. Each ensemble narrates a tale of elegance, grace, and sophistication, encapsulating the essence of cultural fusion and contemporary fashion. Embrace the richness of heritage and the beauty of diversity as you explore our curated selection. Shopping from Samyakk ensures a hassle-free process, with transparent pricing and impeccable craftsmanship, allowing you to indulge in the perfect blend of tradition and trend effortlessly.

As your trusted Designer Outfit Provider, we strive to make your shopping experience seamless and enjoyable. Moreover, with a 24/7 dedicated customer support team, Samyakk is breaking barriers and making it easier forUSA, Autralia, UK & Canada customers to experience the magic of authentic Designer Evening & Bridal Gown, being highly known for Prom Event & a vital member of bridal Western Outfit. Whether you’re in New York or New Delhi, Samyakk brings the allure of Designer Women Outfit right to your doorstep.

Happy Shopping…

[a-d-nox]

astro hypothesis: dress for the occasion

everyone is always mentioning to dress like your venus sign. recently, i have seen a lot of tiktoks where people are like dress like your crush/boyfriend's venus sign to look like his dream girl. and i was like what about dressing for the occasion? which brought me here! grab your venus persona and take a look at the houses.

5h - prom, dances, dates, and clubs

5h cancer (4°, 16°, 28°) and/or 5h moon: elegance is key. you might be drawn to long, flowy gowns with shimmery fabric. something light but glowy! often the fabric is dark (black or midnight blue) or slivery/white. a sweetheart neckline or off the shoulder cut tends to look beautiful on these people. often you are drawn to semi-sheer fabric as it adds some mystique to your appearance.

5h libra (7°, 19°) and/or 5h venus: light pastels or ivory are likely to grab your attention but a plain white or black dress is likely to give you that elegant/timeless look that you want most in pictures to remember your day (otherwise, you might take pictures in a colored dress and turn on a black and white filter). you want the wow factor! so a-line, a ball gown, or fit-flare dresses might be your go to look. a floor length dress is likely a must for you. silk, satin, chiffon, and/or organza are likely on the tags of these dresses even if you don't know what these materials are by the naked eye. dresses with a sweetheart neckline or off the shoulder sleeves are likely to make you feel elegant. you may like very simple accessories - plain earrings, a dainty bracelet, small pendant necklace, classic heels, etc. a v-neckline, bateau, or strapless design is likely to fit your elegance same could be said about a low back dress.

5h aquarius (11°, 23°) and/or 5h uranus: you are likely to be drawn to the blue family (sky, sea, ocean, water, turquoise, etc.). iridescence/holographic/shimmery material might draw your attention in a store. you often go for something very atypical in the store (might be from seasons ago - its likely the last of its kind). something a-line, flowy, and/or high-to-low might be of interest to you - the cuts of a dress bring interest to your favorite parts of yourself (example, maybe its a two piece dress). something high neck or off the shoulder is likely of interest to you as well. a loose braid and/or waves might be all you need to finish out your look.

7h - wedding attire

7h aries (1°, 13°, 25°) and/or 7h mars: as a bride you should be wearing pure white. nudes or off-whites aren't likely to hold your attention anyway. grab the pure stark white. it is likely that reds are going to be an accent of this wedding - roses, nail, polish, bridesmaid dresses, etc. but if you aren't in the wedding party, go for the red whether its a fiery red or a deep burgundy, its the way to go! no matter if you are the bride, the guest, or a member of the wedding party - you should opt for a fit flare dress or mermaid silhouette. or be really dramatic and go for a deep slit, a plunge neckline, or something backless! the devil is in the details too so things like careful beading, sequins, or embroidery should be something critical to your look (if not the fit and/or the drama). alternatively, minimalism/modernism might be something you enjoy for your look.

7h gemini (3°, 15°, 27°) and/or 7h mercury: as a bride, you might lean towards ivory or whites with an undertone of some color (like a blush). you don't tend to go for the traditional white color, in my experience. if you are a guest or in the wedding party it is likely you will find yourself in soft pastel colors! movement is of the utmost importance to you so opt for a-line or flowy gown. you might also enjoy wearing things that are asymmetrical - the hemline might be high to low or you might like the one shoulder strap design. these people also like details in their dresses whether it is lace, embroidery, beading, ruffles, tiered skirts, or glitter - the options are endless. chiffon, tulle, or organza might be the fabrics for you because they are light and breathable.

6h - everyday clothes and workwear

6h pisces (12°, 24°) and/or 6h neptune: soft fabrics like cotton, silk, or jersey in gentle, soothing colors such as ocean blues, seafoam greens, lavender, and soft pinks. loose, flowing clothes like maxi skirts, wrap dresses, or wide-legged pants that move gracefully. style would likely be bohemian and free-spirited, incorporating layers, delicate patterns, or subtle prints (florals, paisley, etc.). clothes would be cozy and easy to wear—think oversized sweaters, soft cardigans, and flowy blouses. might like jewelry that is delicate, handmade, seashells, pearls, and/or celestial themed.

6h libra (7°, 19°) and/or 6h venus: these people have a natural sense of style and an appreciation for their appearance. outfits would likely be classic, well-tailored pieces in soft, neutral tones like blush pink, dove gray, cream, and pastel blues. the fabrics would be light and luxurious - like silk blouses, cashmere sweaters, or satin skirts. well-fitted blazers, A-line skirts, and or high-waisted trousers make them look polished and graceful. they effortlessly blend comfort with sophistication. everything else is minimal yet thoughtfully chosen - delicate gold or silver jewelry, a stylish handbag, etc.

9h - graduation and religious events

9h taurus (2°, 14°, 26°) and/or 9h venus: elegance, luxury, and comfort ("it has pockets too!"). a sleek, well-structured dress in an earthy tones like emerald green, soft brown, or blush pink. the fabric might be luxurious, like silk, satin, or velvet. a silhouette would likely be timeless and flattering - a wrap dress or an A-line dress that cinches at the waist, emphasizing femininity and grace is well suited for this placement. delicate embroidery or subtle jewelry accents. understated but beautiful accessories, like a simple gold necklace or pearl earrings.

9h leo (5°, 17°, 29°) and/or 9h sun: bold, glamorous, and attention grabbing. vibrant colors like gold, fiery red, or royal purple. the fabric might be something that shimmers or catches the light, such as sequined, satin, or metallic materials. a silhouette could be daring and statement-making, like a fitted flair dress, a high-low hemline, or an off-the-shoulder design. ruffles, a thigh-high slit, or an open back, ensures all eyes are on them. accessories would be bold—think large, sparkling earrings, a dramatic statement necklace, etc. yes, realize what my sub-header is for this section.

9h sagittarius (9°, 21°) and/or jupiter: it's never just one graduation or church event and thus never just one dress/opportunity. the dresses would likely have a regal, flowing quality to it. jewel tones like deep sapphire, royal blue, or amethyst. flowy, A-line, and/or empire waisted dresses that gives a sense of movement. fabric might be lightweight and ethereal, like chiffon, tulle, or silk. intricate embroidery, beading, etc. accessories would be tasteful but luxurious, like a delicate gold bracelet or a jeweled hairpiece.

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[dimplyowl]

😩 one of the main things I see about Izzy and why he’s an innocent little lamb who has done nothing wrong is that he’s got a lot of internalized homophobia going on, as well as issues with toxic masculinity. And yeah, OFMD is all about taking those toxic societal expectations and telling them to shove themselves up their asses. And I think having a character who has those internalized feelings and who holds onto them until being proven that they’re wrong is an interesting character arc. Growth is a great thing! We love to see it!

The problem comes when people use those characteristics as excuses for any of izzys bad behaviors, as if they give him a free pass to do whatever he wants to do. But that’s not how these things work. The problem I have with Izzy’s character arc in s2 is that he doesn’t do anything to make reparations until his deathbed apology to Ed. He just kind of…continues to be there, ignoring Ed, letting the crew extend kindness to him and still not really engaging until Calypso’s Birthday.

You know who has done some really shitty things and does actually work toward making reparations? Ed. And that’s another thing I see a lot of Izzy fans say: that gb people give Ed a free pass for everything he did because of his childhood and his trauma and his self hatred and broken heart. But babes, when we talk about these issues, you’re misunderstanding why we’re talking about them. I obviously can’t speak for all Ed fans, but the majority of us aren’t listing these issues as excuses, we’re naming them as reasons for his behavior. So we can understand why he feels the way he feels and did the things he did.

I am fully aware that he did some really shitty things to people who care about him and who he cares about. I acknowledge that. I also know why he did them. And knowing why doesn’t make it okay. It helps me understand him more, and to know that he wasn’t doing them because he enjoyed them and, most importantly, that they’re things he regrets doing. That’s obvious throughout the entirety of eps4-6, in his hesitance to return to the ship, in agreeing to wear a burlap sack and allowing Lucius to push him over the ship, in taking time to actually listen to fang about his own experiences during the kraken era. It’s part of the entire reason they have a party, it’s part of turning poison into positivity. Ed doesn’t have great apology skills. His “apology” speech was definitely lacking as far as our modern standards are concerned. That’s fine. Those aren’t natural skills to have, they’re learned, and he never really had the opportunity to learn them. But you can see that he wants to, and he’s trying and he’s learning, and that’s the most important thing.

Izzy doesn’t do that shit. In season 1 he uses his position of power to bully the crew, to go against Ed’s orders (his captains orders; that’s essentially mutiny right there); he loses and turns his captain and a ship full of queer and poc to the cops; he then becomes captain and it takes less than a day for the crew to mutiny on him because he’s a fucking asshole and no one wants to work for him; and to top it all off, he tells his boss—his friend, supposedly, his depressed and already established to be suicidal friend—that he would be better off dead than be like he is.

Where are his attempts at reparation? Where does he turn around and say “yeah calling the cops on you was fucking horrible and I shouldn’t have done it” or “I shouldn’t have said those things when you were already struggling” or “I’m sorry for taking advantage of my power and using it to bully and abuse my employees and another captain’s crew.”? He doesn’t do any of that. He doesn’t even try.

Internalized homophobia doesn’t make intimidating your gay subordinate or calling your friend a “namby pamby in a silk dressing gown” okay. Toxic masculinity doesn’t make repeatedly insulting someone for having traditionally feminine traits and interests okay. Doing those kinds of things can never be okay. But recognizing these as faults and actively working to improve yourself and grow and apologize to the people you’ve hurt and try to make things better does make it more likely for the people who care about you to forgive you.

[highdramas]

a house in nebraska | j.m.

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

warnings: language, canon typical sadness, canon typical violence, age gap but it’s not really mentioned, sweet sweet yearning, sexual situations but not explicit (yet hehe)

word count: 4704

summary: by joel’s side, you make your way to the midwest, and find yourself inching closer to a house in nebraska you once called home. you and joel have always been okay keeping your pasts to yourselves, focusing on the now. but a roadtrip stirs up feelings, ones that even you cannot deny any longer.

notes: if you are under 18 do not interact with my work or this fic. this is part of the creature comforts series but can be read on its own! house in nebraska in particular is a two part story. this is set 12 years after the outbreak began. joel is 48 and reader is 31.

you still thought about that house.

in most ways, it was rather unassuming. it wasn’t rundown, nor was it like the house that nancy mcnamara had on the other side of town. you remember that first time you had gone to nancy’s house for a birthday party. it was strange to imagine that people lived that way.

no, your house was simple, if not slightly dated. your parents never got around to modernizing it, and you didn’t want them to. it was beautiful in it’s dated nature. it was your home. more than a house. it was a home.

it’s days like today when you think about that house. sometimes you wonder if it’s still standing. oh, what you wouldn’t give to walk up those steps, to run your hand along the railing of the porch. it was a luxury to have these fantasies. that you knew more than anything.

you run your plate over the lukewarm water and you feel joel’s eyes on your back. sometimes, you wonder if he can read your mind. you wonder if maybe he’s harboring this secret power from you that allows him to know your deepest secrets, the history that you hold near and dear to your heart. you don’t know why it is. why it is you don’t tell him. it would be easy to lay all of it down at his feet, to come apart and know that he wasn’t going to judge you or hurt you for it. feelings are a weakness. longing is a weakness. but joel was never going to stab that soft underbelly. you were confident in that.

but you keep it bottled up anyway. you keep him placated with your smiles and the murmurs that everything’s okay, just tired and you know that he sees right through you but you both know that he’s not going to push it. that’s one thing, of many, that you love about joel. he doesn’t push. and in return, neither do you. not hard, anyway.

you dry your hands off and you settle on the couch beside him. you can tell that there’s something on his mind– his eyes don’t give anything away, and maybe he thinks that you’re the mind reader out of the two of them. “talk to me,” you say with that smile of yours that you pull out of the closet only for him, wear it like it’s your finest gown.

he sighs and leans forward, muscled arms against strong knees. he doesn’t meet your gaze. you wish that he would. “i don’t want to tell you because i know exactly what you’re going to say.”

“well, then at least you won’t be hit with any surprises.”

joel looks at you and you already have a wry smile on your face, and he has to fight the urge to match it. “you’re such a shit, you know that?” his humor dies off and he goes back to examining his hands. “gotta head out west.”

you straighten at that. “oh.” confusion riddles you– what is he not saying? “well, where?”

the looks says everything and you’re opening your mouth but he cuts you off before you can get a word out. “no. no. you’re not comin’.”

“if you’re going to nebraska,” you say, your voice perfectly level. “you’re going to have to chain me to the bed in order to get me to stay put.” you rise from your spot and walk towards your bedroom, rustling around to find your backpack. you don’t even know when he’s leaving and you’re preparing yourself.

he knows next to nothing about where you come from. what your story is. it’s not all that special, all things considered– for someone to be alive means that they have had to endure unthinkable hardship to get to that point. but he knows two things: you’re from nebraska, and you never knew what happened to your family.

“joel,” you say, folding a t shirt and laying it flat in your bag. “i’m coming.” when you look at him, there’s something in your eyes that he doesn’t recognize. a whole different you. “you don’t know the things i did to get to boston. so don’t fight me on this. i won’t be a nuisance.”

“i didn’t think you would be,” he steps closer. “i just don’t want you getting your hopes up. that’s all.”

you swallow and you look at him. there’s no fight on his face– you think he probably gave up this fight the second he decided he was going to tell you. after all, he could’ve up and left with a note and nothing more. hell, he didn’t even owe you a note. you weren’t anything. you were friends. you shared something. but beyond that, there was no reason for him to tell you shit. “joel,” you whisper and you step closer to him and you watch the way his throat bobs, the way his lip twitches. “you of all people know that my hope’s gonna have to be pried from my cold, dead hands.”

“i know,” he says quietly. you turn back to your backpack and then he’s behind you and his hands are on your shoulders. things have never been said so explicitly– what you are and what you aren’t, where the lines are drawn. all you know is sometimes he does this; he touches you and it lights you up with a warmth from the inside out. sometimes, you lie in bed beside one another and your foot draws up his calf and his hand smoothes over your waist and tugs you closer to him. sometimes he gives you his ration cards despite your protests. you will wake and he’s long gone but they rest on the dining table. the dining table where his belongings, meager as they are, mingle with yours.

joel cares. joel cares and he knows you more than anyone else could ever fathom it.

you show your care in different ways. once, on an abandoned vehicle in the qz, you found a texas sticker. you had taken dutiful care in the way you peeled it off. you found an old book and ripped a page from the back and laid the sticker down onto it. when you presented it to joel on september 26th, you could see the emotions pass over his face. sorrow and longing and then something else. a sidelong look at you, one that was mostly curious.

“it’s okay to miss it,” you had said then. “that life.”

you’d seen his reactions when others had made mere references of his life before. they were shut down. they were stopped, right then and there. and while you didn’t like to poke the bear… you wanted him to know. wanted to bestow this one thing. there was nothing else to say in that moment, all there was was you and joel and his arm slowly wrapping around your shoulders and tugging you in closer. there was his lips against your temple and your fist gripping his flannel shirt. and that was all you needed.

but in this moment with him just behind you, hands beginning to rub into your shoulders, you feel it. that deep chasm of need deep within you, the one that you’ve been ignoring. your hand goes and covers his and you wrap his arm around your chest, kissing the skin of his forearm. strong, steady joel. protective joel. while you’ve laid awake and wondered what it is he felt for you, you never had to question if he would protect you. if he would save you when it all boiled down to it. you squeeze his arm and he squeezes you back, a heavy, reassuring weight. “just let me have some hope, joel.”

and he would.

–

you stop at bill and frank’s to do some trading. you’d heard the stories of their compound, but had never experienced it yourself, and there was a twinge in your heart. what was stopping you? what stopped you from moving in next door, earning your keep, being of service in some way? what stopped you and joel from settling? sitting around the table, music playing and eating a meal that was more than jerky and dried fruits, it was hard to remember your reasoning. why you two played by the rulebook that you did.

you’re admiring the house when frank found you. he gives you a smile and gets in the wine cabinet, pulling another fresh bottle. “astounding, isn’t it?”

turning to him, you remember that he was so warm. warm in a different way than joel. not better or worse. just different. “it’s amazing,” you admit. “almost hard to believe that there was a time where we all lived like this. took it for granted.”

he steps into the spot beside you, following your gaze. “i’m lucky. bill and i– we’re lucky.” he looks at you for a long time. you could feel the imprint of his gaze on your cheek. “how long have you been with joel?”

smiling to yourself, you say, “three years.” you pause, examining a painting on the wall. “feels like it’s been forever. he’s aging me. stealing my youth.” it’s a joke, and you give a crooked grin. “no, he’s… he’s made everything easier. much easier.”

frank hums at that. “i don’t want to pry,” he begins slowly, giving you a sidelong look. “but are you…”

feeling your cheeks grow warm, all you can do is shrug. “i’m not sure,” you admit. “but i don’t need to be sure. he’s my best friend.”

he nods his head, as if this answer makes more sense than anything else that you could’ve said. “well, for what it’s worth–” you both look out the window of the house where joel and bill stand, practically mirroring one another. hands on their hips. staring out at the fence. “bill’s my best friend, too.”

frank touches your shoulder and you smile at him. for some reason, his words are reassuring.

–

you end up staying the night. there’s a guest bedroom with an adjoining bathroom and frank says you’re welcome to anything you need while bill scowls. you shower before joel does– and, to be honest, he doesn’t give you an option in that regard. he puts his hands on your shoulders and he walks you into the bathroom, pushing the fluffy towel into your chest with a smile. “you stink,” he says and he does something that’s almost a wink that makes your heart sing.

so you do. you shower and you lather yourself in all of the fine soaps that frank had prepared for you. you think that joel must’ve told him about your dry skin– lotions of every scent line the counters, and you lather yourself in them post-shower. when you come out smelling like lavender and vanilla, joel’s head shoots up from his book. he stares at you for a long, long time. you shiver under his gaze, shifting in the clothes that frank had given you.

for a moment, you feel like you’re playing house.

joel clears his throat and he stands up, approaching you. his big hand goes to the side of your face and his thumb runs over your cheekbone, drags down to your lip. when you shiver this time, it’s much more noticeable, and you can see something flash behind joel’s eyes.

there are things that the two of you have done together. but never this. close– but never this. you’ve dreamed about what it might be like for his lips to brush yours, but you’ve never had the luxury to linger on it too long. you were both fighting, tooth and nail, for your own survival. the survival of each other, for tess, for tommy. a makeshift family if you’ve ever heard of one. but in this house, where the walls have art and the linens are clean, and you feel fresher and more clear headed than you ever have…

“go. shower.” you squeeze his wrist. “you stink.”

he scoffs out a laugh and shakes his head at you. but when he casts his gaze upon you again, when he nods his head and moves into the bathroom, you feel anticipation like you’ve never felt before.

joel takes less time in the shower than you did. but when he emerges, all wet hair and glistening skin, you have to physically stop yourself from standing. he doesn’t wear a shirt but sweatpants hang low on his hips, and every thought has to be written all over your face. he walks up to you slowly and your grip the duvet, but when he stands before you and nudges your legs apart to stand between them, your grip slackens, he takes your hands and he puts them up on his shoulders where you glide them across his tanned skin, lace them behind his neck.

“i’m going to say this once, because i don’t want to waste our time with it,” joel begins. “and i know– i know i’m not good with my words. i don’t know if i ever will be. and i know i’ve got walls up, i know i’m fucked up–” you open your mouth but he shakes his head. “let me finish. i know i’m fucked up. and i don’t know if i can give you everything that the man twelve years ago would’ve. but i am a selfish man, and i want what i can give to be enough. and i want to try and give you more.” he brushes a piece of your hair back. “if that’s what you want.”

“you’re more than i could ask for,” you reassure. your hands go to his face and your thumbs stroke against his cheeks. “so let’s stop wasting our time with talking about what we both know.”

joel pushes you down against the mattress and you pull yourself up the bed, towards the pillows, and he hovers above you. “can’t remember the last time i was in a bed this nice,” he murmurs, and he’s so handsome above you, you don’t know how you managed without it. you’ve slept side by side, limbs tangled, but this…

“me neither,” your needy hands reach out for him and then his brown eyes are level with yours, a hand splayed beside your head, holding himself up. “i don’t want to waste it. do you?”

the smile he wears would’ve belonged to the joel from before. mischievous, almost, a smile that reaches his eyes. “what ideas did you have?”

you open your mouth but then his lips are closing over your pulse point and it’s been so long, it’s been forever, it’s been a lifetime ago since you’ve had such true and real intimacy. you start to shake and you stammer to try and reply and he pulls away, shaking his head, running his hand through your hair. “i’m gonna take care of you,” he says seriously. “you gonna let me take care of you, nebraska?”

with a shaky laugh you nod your head, but that’s not enough for him. “words. give me your words.”

“yes,” you breathe. “please.”

and joel, your unsung hero, stays good to his word. he’s a passionate person, deep in there, so it shouldn’t have surprised you that he would be a good and passionate lover– but it did. it made you giddy, every touch, every drag of his tongue. but nothing was better than the first kiss.

joel makes sure to take care in tipping your face up to him. there were candlesticks lit around the quaint bedroom, illuminating you in a golden glow, and you’d never felt like an angel before– not even before this world had made you a killer. but under his eyes and in this room, you feel the closest you ever have. “so damn pretty,” he murmurs to himself, shaking his head. “you know that? how pretty you are?”

your foot runs up his leg. “don’t spend much time looking in mirrors anymore.”

“you’re fuckin’ gorgeous,” he answers for you. one hand goes to the side of your neck and his thumb brushes your pulse and it’s like every single thing in this broken world finally clicks into place with him. and that’s when he does it. that’s when he lowers himself and his lips find yours.

it’s slow. it’s like for the first time since 2003 he has allowed himself to enjoy. he savors you like he savored the meal that bill and frank served you that evening. he drinks you in like their delicious wine, the taste of you better than the heavy red had been on his tongue. a hand slips under your head and caresses, holds you, kisses you like there’s nothing else left to do.

your hands become explorative. across his chest, his stomach, down his spine. he shivers when you hit that sensitive spot just above his tailbone, and it makes you smile against his lips. “like that, huh?” he asks with a laugh. he falls down onto the bed beside you and he tugs you closer, his lips still attached to your jaw. “like knowin’ what you do to me?”

you’re helpless, nodding your head, mind foggy with pleasure. “oh, poor thing,” he coos with another cheeky grin, tapping your bottom lip with his thumb. “i’ll stop bein’ mean.”

“you’re evil,” you say but there’s no bark behind your bite, not when his lips start to move southward, down your chest, pushing up your shirt. your hips begin to raise involuntarily and everything is better than you could ever expect–

the door bursts open. “bill–” joel bellows, rearing back to look at him. you’re not even naked but joel is effortlessly protective, shielding you from his view. but you peek past his arm anyway, and what you see astounds you. bill’s scared. he’s trying to fight it, but you can smell fear like a bloodhound.

“raiders,” bill says and it’s the simplest thing he could’ve said, but it makes you move.

joel is on his feet and you’re tossing him a shirt and he’s tossing you your jacket, you’re moving around each other like you know the exact move the other will make next. and maybe you do. maybe you have memorized the way that he uses his body as a weapon and as a shield.

with guns drawn you help take down raiders. it’s not a fair fight, not with the set up that bill has built and not with you and joel by his side. joel has never had to see you fight. not really, anyway– he’s known of the knife that you keep on you at all times, but bill had tossed you a gun and you knew your way around it and while joel didn’t have time to watch, you could sense it. could feel his eyes lingering for just a moment too long, long enough to risk survival.

and then your gun lowers and your eyes lock and there’s something that passes there, between you.

you don’t know if love is the right way to describe what you feel towards joel. but if it is, then maybe you had just fallen a bit more in love with one another.

–

any mood that existed prior has been shot by the time that you get back into the guest room. with a long, heaving sigh, you start shucking your clothes off. there’s nothing wrong with them– no blood on them, no dirt, no grime, but the mere act of wearing them while you have killed someone makes your skin crawl.

joel exits the room but he returns with two new sets of clothes. he passes one set off to you before he starts changing himself, eyes heavy on one another.

and when you’re both in fresh clothes you inch towards one another and you collapse onto the bed together, and there’s nothing hesitant in the way that he pulls you to him, tugs your body close to his and wrap you up in his dutiful hold until you both drift off into a sleep, one not fueled by pills or booze, but by the safety of one another.

–

bill and frank send you with food (bill begrudgingly, frank happily) and a truck. your end stop is the omaha QZ, outside of which you’ll be meeting with a smuggler who joel has been in contact with since you knew him. but you were a long ways away from nebraska, and it would be many days on the road.

it’s two days in when you find the tape, rustling around through the truck. it was a forgotten thing beneath the passenger seat, and your entire face lights up when you see it. joel glances over at you with a furrowed brow and you lift jeff buckley’s grace. in tandem, you and joel say, “yes.”

mojo pin starts from the top and you find yourself gazing out the window. you prepare yourself for the northeastern beauty to turn into the plains of the midwest, reminding you of a life of before. 

you’re crossing into ohio when he asks, “you like this album?”

slowly, you nod your head. “it was all i would listen to,” you say, remembering who you were before. “maybe jeff buckley’s lucky. to have died before all of this started.”

joel stares at you for a long time. “do you really mean that?”

swallowing, you meet his gaze. do you mean it? “no,” you finally say softly. “there are things that i miss. people i miss. but i don’t think i’d be luckier dead.” you huff a laugh and look back out the window. “if i felt that way, it would be a bit silly to live the way i do.”

“and how do you mean?”

“we fight to live,” you say easily. “we fight to survive. we’re not people who want to give up, even if we pretend we are. being alive is having some hope, contrary to what you may believe.”

“never said i didn’t have hope,” joel begins, his voice all gruff.

“joel, please.” you look over at him and you smirk. “i know you. you may fool other people, but you’re not gonna fool me.”

the two of you fall into an easy silence at that point. there’s nothing pointed about what you said to him, and he doesn’t have any fight in him. he doesn’t want to fight with you, he never does. and, besides– despite what he says, he knows that you’re right.

at some point you fall asleep. you wake up to joel’s hand in your hair, his voice slowly coaxing you awake. you wake with a start, snapping up and looking around. “sorry,” you mumble, the last bits of sleep still clinging onto you for dear life. “didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“s’alright,” he mumbles back to you. “would probably good to stop for the night. we can take turns keeping watch.” he smirks. “it’s your turn first.”

you roll your eyes but he turns the car off and reclines his seat and you can’t help but stare at him. how does anyone expect you to be diligent and alert when you get an opportunity to stare at him uninterrupted? when he opens one eye to look at you you lean back and smile at him, shaking your head. “don’t do that,” you murmur, reaching your hand out and touching his hair, somehow soft still despite everything. “get some sleep.”

joel hums. “keep doin’ that,” he says while your hand is working through his hair. “feels good.”

you’re not going to deny joel what feels good. not for one moment.

–

the days pass faster than you were expecting them to. it’s just you and joel and the open road. occasionally you roll down the window and you stick your head out and let the wind rustle your hair, let jeff buckley fill your ears with his beautiful melodies and you pretend like you and joel are two normal people on a normal road trip together. the one thing that you will never be, you pretend you are.

an ominous quiet grows over you when you pass over the nebraska border. when you see that sign.

joel senses it in you instantly. and for a man who says he’s cold, who says he’s fucked up, who says that he doesn’t know if he can be what you need– you don’t feel that when he lays his big hand on your thigh and squeezes. and he doesn’t make a hasty exit with it, either. no, it lingers there. it stays there until your hand goes and lays on top of his, and only then does his hand turn over and he grasps your fingers. laces them with his own, and his thumb draws across the back of your wrist.

when you look over at him, you don’t see a man who’s fucked up. you see a man who’s fighting an eternal, internal battle with himself, to love and let himself be loved. you’ve been there. hell, you’re there now, fighting your own similar battle. but perhaps your armor is weaker, because this touch has melted you down to the bone and made you forget why you wanted to fight in the first place.

the words beg to release from your mouth. i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you so much i’m willing to risk the safety of not loving another soul.

“we’ll go wherever you need,” he speaks up. “and then we’ll go to omaha.”

with a curt nod of your head, you pull the map out of the glove compartment and you scour it. you see your teeny tiny hometown, and you circle it, passing it back to joel.

instantly, you recognize the way that he takes a turn, towards your home. towards your old life.

it’s in the stirred silence that you say, “they call seward the fourth of july city,” you smile a little bit at the memories. memories of fireworks and the smell of a grill and celebrating a patriotism and nationalism that you would resent every day after september 26th, 2003. “my friends and i used to joke about that city part. seward was barely a town, let alone a city.”

joel watches you intently. you wipe your nose with the back of your hand. “i lost my virginity on the fourth of july.” there’s something glassy behind your eyes. “one year before the outbreak. i was eighteen– all my friends joked that i was a late bloomer, but i didn’t care. my dad was a preacher and i always got teased because i was the cliche. the rebellious, preacher’s daughter. but that night…” your words drift and you suck in a big breath, watching as dusk overtakes the night ahead of you, casting joel in pretty purple hues. “he wasn’t a bad boy. he was kind. and he took care of me.”

“he was in my senior year english class. i was taking ap lit– didn’t even take the ap test. anyway– he had kind brown eyes, and it was his first time, too. we went into one of the cornfields in his truck after a big fire party. there were always the biggest parties on fourth of july, but i just wanted to be with him.” you pause and look out the windshield and his thumb is still a warm feeling over the pulse of your wrist. “we kept seeing each other that summer. but then i went to college and so did he and… well, the rest happened. i don’t know what happened to him. but i like to believe that he’s somewhere out there and when he starts getting nostalgic, he tells his…” you look at joel. “whoever his you is, and he smiles a little. i just hope that.”

he squeezes your wrist, once more, before he lets go to put both hands on the wheel. he pulls off and you recognize that he’s pulling into the parking lot of a boarded up church, and god if that isn’t hilariously ironic. “thank you,” he says after you’re parked, looking right into your eyes. “i hope that, too.”

hope. what a funny thing.

[blueshistorysims]

As the paramour of a fashion designer, Francesca always wears the latest styles. Additionally, as a full-time working woman, she prefers practicality over style, and like many modern women of the 1930s, she has added more pants to her wardrobe. While it was still considered scandalous to wear pants in public, Francesca couldn't care less. She's also taken a larger interest in her Hong Konger heritage since the Crash, relearning the language and the culture, dressing as such. As always I aim for a cunty lesbian girlboss look for her lol.

Links and credits below the cut!

Daily: Hair, Earrings (Basgame), Dress, Stockings (Basegame), Shoes (Basegame)

Daily 2: Hair, Earrings (Basegame), Blouse, Slacks, Stockings (Basegame), Shoes (Basegame)

Travel: Hat, Hair, Jacket, Skirt, Gloves (Basegame), Socks, Shoes

Athletic: Hair, Sweater, Pants, Socks, Shoes

Sleep: Hair, Robe (Basegame)

Formal: Hair, Earrings (Get Together), Necklace (Vintage Glamour), Gown, Gloves, Pantyhose, Shoes

Party: Hair, Earrings, Dress, Inner Skirt, Pantyhose, Shoes

Swim: Hair, Swimsuit

Hot Weather: Hair, Top, Bottoms, Socks (Basegame), Loafers

Cold Weather: Hat, Hair, Coat, Turtleneck, Pants, Gloves (Basegame), Socks, Boots (Basegame)

Thank you to the these cc creators!

@simkatu, @happylifesims, @nolan-sims, @gilded-ghosts, @rustys-cc,

@historysims4, @ice-creamforbreakfast, @serenity-cc, @twentiethcenturysims,

@historicalsimslife, @simsfromthepast, @threethousandplumbobs,

@jius-sims, @imadako, @dzifasims, @monharicot, @sentate

[m-ayo-o]

time swap

18+ smutty // Riftan is your modern day boyfriend ~ you go back in time together to experience life as his princess wc 590 selfshiptember; 25

who else can easily self insert with maxi...

Being dragged back in time to an era filled with knights, dragons and wizards is just about mind boggling enough– let alone trying to remember all of the rules and etiquette that have suddenly been imposed upon you.

As a woman of the modern world, you’re used to doing whatever you want, whenever you want. You have freedoms and rights and can follow your own will and whimsy. It helps that you’re confident and have the ability to defend yourself in dangerous situations. But you’re used to being undeniably independent. And strong.

Now, after following your boyfriend back to his era, you’ve found yourself surrounded by maids, servants, assistants, cooks, butlers– endless people babying you.

They tend to your every need, from the moment you wake, getting you dressed in the ridiculous corsets and gowns, to eating, drinking, bathing, sleeping– you can barely breathe on your own.

And that’s just the castle personnel.

Now you’re here, you can see where Riftan’s ‘old fashioned’ tendencies stem from.

Here, his possessive nature is spiralling out of control. You understand that he’s your knight, your husband, sworn to protect and serve, but he doesn’t forgo any of the formalities. 

And he’s become ever so strict.

He chastises you for wanting to leave the castle by yourself like it’s some kind of crazy idea.

“No. That’s dangerous. And you can’t go out like that.” He eyes the simple frock you’re wearing as you look down over yourself.

He has the maids dress you then finally allows you to leave with your arm wrapped around his, escorting you through the busy streets.

He seems even more agitated during functions and parties that are filled with royals, noblemen and knights.

Even if you open your mouth to speak to the wrong person, he’s tugging you away and keeping you to himself. He won’t leave your side all night.

Those are some of the more suffocating behaviours that have come to light– but there are others that you could get used to.

When disembarking a carriage, for example, he will not allow you to step off by yourself. He opens the door, takes your hand and guides you down the steps. If the weather is bad he won’t even permit you to set foot on the damp, muddy ground. You will be carried.

But what really gets you is the way he greets you.

It’s the same in public, in private, wherever you are and whoever you’re with.

He lowers his head in a bow, muttering ‘my princess’ and brushing feather light kisses over your fingers.

And if he’s missed you it gets even better.

He kneels before you.

He presses his head into your tummy while you stroke his hair, nervously looking round at all the servants dashing away and sparing fleeting glances at the two of you.

“Riftan,” you tilt his chin up, “don’t you think this is– ah, too much?”

“No,” he grumbles and gives you a stern look, finally standing and taking your hand, pulling you up the stairs to your private wing.

He may be the perfect gentleman during the day, however, when he gets you behind your bedroom door that is soon to change.

His chivalrous behaviour falls away with your clothes, leaving you exposed but finally able to breathe. 

He covers your body in kisses, showing his true nature when he sinks his teeth into your soft skin.

He dips his head lower, all of his rules to keep you safe and protected being cast aside when he finally hears you moan.

selfshiptember 25!

likes, comments + reblogs appreciated! <3

[virtchandmoir]

Tessa Virtue had three wedding dresses. We spoke to the Toronto designer who created them

“Tessa really was swaying away from any details that looked or felt like a skating costume.”

February 2, 2024

Tessa Virtue and Toronto Maple Leafs defenceman Morgan Rielly have just revealed they secretly tied the knot, not once, but twice, last summer. First, there was a Toronto wedding at Noce restaurant with just four guests joining them. The couple then jetted to Italy the following day and with 11 family members to celebrate their union with an intimate cocktail party, dinner and dancing.

Virtue and Rielly have always been very private about their relationship, so the fact they kept their ‘I dos’ a secret for almost six months is not a surprise. In an exclusive interview with Hello! Virtue said the decision to publicly unveil their newlywed status was a moment she struggled with. “You know when something is just so meaningful to you that you simultaneously want to just hold on to it and protect it so fiercely, and also shout from the rooftops?”

What was not a surprise about this romantic secret marriage between two Canadian sport icons? The bride’s wedding fashion game. True to form in the age of the wedding wardrobe, where multiple looks are essential, Virtue wore three incredible gowns. Ever the passionate supporter of Canadian fashion, Virtue tapped Toronto-based designer Jaclyn Whyte of Whyte Couture—a label she’s been spotted wearing at glittering events in the city including the CAFA Awards—to design each of her wedding looks.

“It was a surreal experience to work with a legend such as Tessa Virtue as we’ve followed her throughout the years making Canada proud,” says Whyte. “It’s a very personal and intimate process when making a gown, you really get to know each other. Tessa is one of the sweetest, most genuine and thoughtful people I know, and it was wonderful to get to know her and build a lasting friendship during this time we spent together. It was an honour to have made not one but three gowns for her wedding celebrations.”

According to Whyte, all the wedding looks were a true collaborative process between Virtue and herself. She says Virtue was very open to ideas, drawn to classic silhouettes, and simple, luxurious fabrics but wanted to add her own touches to make them a little less traditional. “Tessa really was swaying away from any details that looked or felt like a skating costume,” Whyte says. “Tessa knew what she wanted, we listened carefully and she trusted us. It was a magical meeting of creative minds.”

For the Toronto wedding day, Tessa wore a sleek and chic halter gown with no embellishments—a vision of modern bridal style. “This dress was super comfortable,” Whyte explains. “It was a classic silhouette with no train in soft white.”

For the Italian party, there were two looks beginning with a bespoke tea-length corseted dress, which Virtue wore for the rehearsal dinner. This dress was a particular delight for Whyte to create with the bride because it was detailed with whimsical artwork—an engagement ring, hearts, flowers and a Canadian flag to name a few—and meaningful messages chosen by Virtue like “Ti Amo” and “Marry Me,” which were hand painted on the gown by the designer. “The personalized drawings and notes made this one unique and extra special,” says Whyte.

Virtue’s third wedding dress was a most glorious and dramatic strapless mermaid gown in a beautiful pastel pink. The bodice of the dress featured delicate ruching with a flared skirt and train accessorized with a statement bow on one side of the hemline. As Virtue told Hello!, her pink wedding dress was a gown she found by chance and didn’t know she needed until she tried it on. “I just felt so confident, so fun, so me. Not exactly typical ‘bride,’ which I also loved. It was one of those magical, magical moments.”

Thanks to Virtue’s perfect pink wedding dress moment, the rose-coloured gown is likely to be one of 2024’s biggest wedding fashion musts.

—The Star

[youre-ackermine]

Under the Mistletoe

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Fem!reader

Wordcount: 1360 approx.

Modern AU / SFW / Friends to lovers / Love confession / Fluff

Joining Levi to celebrate New Year's Eve was the best decision you had made in a long time. Life was so boring and dull since your best friend had left for France to study. No more talking over coffee between classes, no more late night studying together at the library, no more banter and silly jokes. And above all, no more movie nights cuddled up on the couch, wrapped together in both a cosy blanket and his comforting scent. You felt lonely and miserable. In short, you missed your best friend sorely.

Of course you caught up on each other’s life during your weekly phone call, but it’s his presence you missed the most. Your heart had skipped a beat when he had called you a few weeks ago, clearing his throat before blurting out the invitation in a hoarse tone. Hanging up, you couldn't help but giggle with eagerness at the idea of ​​seeing him again after months apart.

As the reunion day drew near, you had felt the excitement revealing itself in each of your gestures, in each of your thoughts, your mind racing with the silliest scenarios. Past the first few days, busying yourself buying your ticket, packing your suitcase, choosing the evening dress you’d wear for the party, your mood had changed. You had lost your appetite. You could barely sleep. Nervousness was taking the best of you. You couldn’t wait to go to Paris.

Reuniting with him had thrown you into emotional turmoil. Despite the “Mlle l’Emmerdeuse" sign he was holding as a joke, despite the familiar smirk plastered on his face, the moment you had seen him waiting for you at the airport had made you stop in your tracks, palms sweating and throat tight. Something about the way he looked at you seemed different, something yearning and intense.

Regardless you had thrown yourself in his arms and, as he had pulled you closer to him, you had nuzzled into his neck and taken in his comforting scent, the very scent you had missed so much on countless sleepless nights. Tears of relief had welled up in your eyes and your heart seemed to have swelled in your chest. You had shivered under his touch and clung to him for a while before letting him go as the heat of embarrassment flushed your cheeks.

You could no longer conceal the obvious: you were deeply, hopelessly in love with your best friend.

The hour that followed was nothing more now than a blur of disjointed chatter, clumsy gestures and awkward silence. Levi had dropped you off at your hotel, giving you some time to get ready. You had struggled to calm down, your whole body still reacting to the unexpected realization of your feelings. You couldn’t figure out yet how to behave around him. Seeing your best friend in this new light had left you confused and, to be really honest, a little ashamed.

When he picked you up later to go to the soirée, he looked so good in his black tuxedo that you almost missed the sparkle in his eyes and the startled gasp he had let out when you had reached the bottom of the stairs and crossed the lobby to join him. Your evening gown fitted perfectly, smoothly hugging your curves. The light touches of makeup here and there discreetly highlighted your face. You were breathtaking.

Uneasiness lurked into the confined space of the car as you both remained silent. Levi’s attention was stubbornly focused on the road while you admired the city Christmas lights through the window, thinking about how your silly crush on him would muddy your friendship. Luckily enough, it was a quick drive to your destination and you couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief when you finally got out of the car.

Your first glance at the impressive beauty of this hôtel particulier near the Tour Eiffel left you speechless for a while. Elegant garlands of warm white lights hung on the front wall, bathing the garden in a festive glow. A few candle lanterns lined the stairs, tracing the path up to the front door. Apparently Levi’s new friends were ridiculously rich.

As soon as you stepped inside, heat slapped your face and music filled your ears. The house was soberly decorated, a few shining ornaments and tinsels were placed here and there and a bouquet of mistletoe hung from the ceiling in the hallway. In the main room, people were already dancing under strobe lights. Levi helped you take off your coat and you shrugged the tension off your shoulders as you followed him across the packed room to the buffet. The fancy display of mouth-watering delicacies helped you snap out of your thoughts for good.

Levi introduced you to his group of friends who stood next to the bar on your left, laughing and raising their glasses to the last remnants of the year and the appealing promises of the new one. One of them poured some champagne in a flute for you while another shoved a plate of appetizers under your nose. They did their best to make you feel welcome.

After a few bites of delicious food, Levi, always the life and soul of the party, stuck with his friends while you hit the dance floor. Mingling with the partygoers released most of the tension building between the two of you so far. You felt his eyes linger on you at first but soon you were so absorbed in the music that you forgot about your turmoil for a moment.

And now, after dragging yourself to the bar all sweating and panting but somewhat relaxed, here you were trying your best to talk with his college friends over the deafening music, slipping a few words of French you vaguely remembered here and there into the conversation. You got along pretty well with Levi’s roommates and you would enjoy the party more if your best friend hadn’t left a while ago, vanishing into the crowd.

Around midnight, you couldn’t help but glance around to find him until you felt a warm hand settling on the small of your back.

“Je peux vous la voler un instant?” Levi asked his friends before taking you away.

He slipped his hand into yours and led you through the crowded dance floor, weaving his way out of the room. Feeling the warm skin of his palm against yours, the reassuring squeeze of his fingers, made your heart race faster and a delicious sensation spread through your body, as if you were floating in the air.

He stopped as he reached the hallway and turned to you, taking both of your hands in his and locking eyes with you. Something between worry and determination showed on his face and for a moment you couldn’t help but take in his handsome features, the sharp line of his jaw, the plumpness of his lips.

“I…I have, er…I have something to tell you,” he stammered. “Something, er. Something I want to tell you for a while now, but. You know, er…Shit...You know I'm bad with words, right?” He squeezed your hands on the last word.

You nodded, not sure if you wanted to hear what he was about to say. Your heart sank at the thought that he had realized what you felt for him and wanted to put your relationship to an end because of how disturbing all of this was. But, maybe because of the changes you had noticed in the way Levi looked at you, a teeny, tiny part of you, the one that allowed the butterflies to flutter in your chest, the one that allowed your skin to shiver under his touch, that part couldn’t help but hope.

The hubbub of the party starting the countdown suddenly turned into a blur when Levi leaned in, his face so close to yours that you felt his warm breath on your skin. Your heart pounded in your ears and you finally let the butterflies deliciously flutter in your chest. Leaning even closer, he whispered “je t’aime“ against your lips before kissing you softly.

Your first kiss.

Under the mistletoe.

Requested for my 300 followers event by Suki @suukee @sckerman 🩵

I hope you'll like it!

🔸🔸🔸

A/N: Kissing under the mistletoe is a New Year’s Eve / New Year’s Day custom in France rather than a Christmas custom as in other countries // English is not my usual language

Proofreading @sixpennydame thank you so much my lovely Bestie <333

Translation

Mlle l’Emmerdeuse >>> Miss Annoyance

Hôtel particulier >>> Mansion

Je peux vous la voler un instant? >>> Can I borrow her from you for a sec?

Je t'aime >>> I love you

🔸🔸🔸

Header: @youre-ackermine

Star divider: @saradika-graphics

Fireworks divider: @firefly-graphics

🔸🔸🔸

You can find the event masterlist (in progress) HERE

[thelibraryghost]

A Young Person's Introduction to Early 20th-Century Western Fashion

am i hip with the kids yet

General information Dotschkal, Janna. "1920's." FOUND. October 21, 2016. English Heritage. "Fashion Through History: Episode 3 – 1930s." YouTube. April 16, 2023. Rudolph, Nicole. "The History of Standardized Sizes in Womens Fashion and Why They FAILED." YouTube. May 16, 2021. Vintagebursche. "100 Years of Classic Menswear - and what we can learn from each decade." YouTube. February 29, 2020. Zebrowska, Karolina. "1920s Fashion Is Not What You Think It Is." YouTube. May 20, 2018.

Accessories Cox, Abby. "Flappers, Y2K, & Capitalism are Why Women "Don't" Have Pockets." YouTube. January 12, 2023. Cox, Abby. "The Disappointing Truth On Why We Don't Wear Hats Anymore..." YouTube. December 18, 2022. Rudolph, Nicole. "The History of the Iconic Cloche Hat: Making 1920s Fashion." YouTube. September 18, 2022. Rudolph, Nicole. "When Hats were Illegal: Sewing a Goth Edwardian Hat." YouTube. February 21, 2021. Sheehan, Sarah. "Neo-Egyptomania." PatternVault. December 31, 2022. Zebrowska, Karolina. "Why Did We Stop Wearing Hats?" YouTube. April 28, 2020.

Cosmetics Banner, Bernadette. "Making and Testing a Victorian Skincare Routine." YouTube. April 8, 2023. English Heritage. "1930s Makeup Tutorial | History Inspired | Feat. Amber Butchart and Rebecca Butterworth." YouTube. December 18, 2018. Holland, Evangeline. "On How to Be Lovely." Edwardian Promenade. April 15, 2010. Rudolph, Nicole. "The Controversial History of Color Season Analysis." YouTube. November 4, 2023.

Fabrics Rudolph, Nicole. "The History of Elastic." YouTube. July 4, 2021. Rudolph, Nicole. "Wearing Overalls to Boycott Fashion Greedflation? Weird History of 1920." YouTube. March 16, 2024.

Gowns and formal wear Banner, Bernadette. "I Redesigned Mary Poppins' Jolly Holiday Dress Based on REAL Edwardian Lingerie Gowns." YouTube. February 20, 2021. Banner, Bernadette. "I Remade Mary Poppins’ Dress to be Actually Edwardian." YouTube. July 9, 2022. Cox, Abby. "Alexander McQueen & the Patriarchy Problem in Modern Fashion." YouTube. October 20, 2023. Cox, Abby. "What Makes a Gown Haute Couture (like House of Worth) in Victorian and Edwardian Eras?" YouTube. September 19, 2021. Lady Rebecca Fashions. "An Edwardian Woman's Fashion Evolution." YouTube. June 4, 2022. Oakes, Leimomi. "Terminology: what is a lingerie dress or lingerie frock? (and blouse, and skirt)." The Dreamstress. July 21, 2018. Rudolph, Nicole. "Stop Idolizing Coco Chanel: a shocking history of theft." YouTube. January 13, 2024. Rudolph, Nicole. "The Truth about the Fringed Flapper: Making 1920s Evening Dresses." YouTube. November 6, 2022. Vintagebursche. "1920s Theme Party - How to dress." YouTube. December 9, 2023. Zebrowska, Karolina. "1920s Fashion Encyclopedia, Pt 1: Daywear." YouTube. November 27, 2019.

Hair care and styling Banner, Bernadette. "I Tried Following a Real Edwardian Hair Care Routine." YouTube. May 12, 2020. Lady Rebecca Fashions. "Getting Dressed in the Edwardian Era / Gibson Girl Hairstyle Tutorial." YouTube. June 12, 2020. Lady Rebecca Fashions. "Titanic-era Hair Tutorial // Getting Dressed in the 1910's." YouTube.September 4, 2020. SnappyDragon. "Historical hair myths debunked : How often should you wash your hair—daily shampoo or no shampoo?" YouTube. August 12, 2022. Zebrowska, Karolina. "Weird Edwardian Beauty Tips." YouTube. February 11, 2017.

Laundry and starching Banner, Bernadette. "Ok but how did the Edwardians WASH these dresses?" YouTube. August 3, 2022.

Outerwear Cox, Abby. "Athleisure: Destroying Fashion & the Environment." YouTube. January 18, 2024. Rudolph, Nicole. "150 years of Masc Women causing a Moral Panic." YouTube. June 17, 2023. Rudolph, Nicole. "The History of Jeans, T-shirts, and Hoodies: Time Travel 101." YouTube. March 20, 2022. Zebrowska, Karolina. "SPRING/SUMMER FASHION TRENDS REVIEW but it's 1936 (ft. original fabric samples!)." YouTube. April 22, 2022.

Shoes Rudolph, Nicole. "I Made Witchy Edwardian Shoes by Hand!" YouTube. March 14, 2021. Rudolph, Nicole. "Making 100 year old Comfy Slippers: Free Pattern!" YouTube. December 30, 2023. Rudolph, Nicole. "The Myth of Tiny Feet "Back Then"." YouTube. September 26, 2021. Rudolph, Nicole. "The True History of Stiletto Heels : the battle between Ferragamo and Dior." YouTube. August 26, 2023. Zebrowska, Karolina. "Why Is No One Talking About 1930s Shoes?" YouTube. September 15, 2020.

Undergarments Banner, Bernadette. "1903 Patented Bustle Pad Reconstruction." YouTube. June 8, 2019. Banner, Bernadette. "Achieving That Classic Edwardian Shape: Reconstructing a 1902 Bust Bodice." YouTube. April 16, 2020. Lady Rebecca Fashions. "So What are Guimpes Anyway? // Examining Antique Edwardian Guimpes." YouTube. August 21, 2020. Lady Rebecca Fashions. "They Wore Corsets in the 1920's?!" YouTube. January 29, 2022. Rudolph, Nicole. "Did Brassieres End the Corset?" YouTube. February 28, 2021. Rudolph, Nicole. "Dressing in Edwardian Clothing: Undergarments and Layers of 1907." YouTube. November 1, 2020. Rudolph, Nicole. "How Flappers got their Figure: the 1920s Silhouette." YouTube. July 10, 2022. SnappyDragon. "How pin-up photos fooled dress history : the making and marketing of lingerie pictures." YouTube. April 1, 2023.

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Safest with You (Ch. 14 - The Subway)

4.8K / Modern AU Retired Mob Enforcer!Din Djarin x fem!reader

Summary: You and Din take the subway home after Boba’s birthday gala; an incident on the train requires Din to step in.

Warnings: 18+ content (MDNI please), public harassment of women (not directed at reader but includes derogatory language), description of physical force, established relationship, dirty talk, major public making out, fingering in the back of a car with a driver in the front (so a little noncon for the driver I guess), minor exhibitionism (to reader's surprise and delight), pet names as usual (pretty bird, sweetheart, baby, etc.)

A/N: An incident of harassment is briefly depicted, but neither the incident nor the aftermath are described or dealt with in depth; not because this type of thing isn't serious, but that wasn't the story I wanted to write (nor do I think I could do it justice). The victim chooses not to report and wishes to put it past her, which others are understanding of; there is no such thing as perfect victims or a "right way" to deal with a situation like that - the relevant belief reflected in the story is that we should just keep on showing up for each other as fellow human beings the best we can. Again, it's not written about in depth or with much nuance in this chapter, but better to tag and be safe. 😘

Series Masterlist

The evening breeze feels cool on your skin as you step out into the street from the hotel.  You breathe in a deep breath of fresh air and sigh happily; it’s honestly been such a lovely evening, even with the incident upstairs after dinner.  You smile just thinking about the remainder of Boba’s birthday party: dancing and drinks, laughing with Din’s friends, and Din’s ever-present attention and whispers of sweet nothings in your ear:

“Prettiest girl in the room tonight, can’t take my eyes off of you.”

“That slit on your dress is such a tease, pretty bird.  Just want to slide my hand all the way up to where I know you want it.”

“Can’t wait to get you home and out of that dress.  Show you how lucky you make me feel.”

To be honest, you’re not sure you’re ready to go home and take this dress off yet.  The last few rounds of champagne have you feeling giddy and there's something so fanciful about being about town in a beautiful gown, a handsome tuxedo clad man on your arm.  On a whim, you suggest that instead of catching a cab, you and Din take the subway home, just so you can extend this urban fairy tale feeling a little bit longer.  It’s a very tipsy suggestion. 

“Are you sure, pretty bird?”

“Yes!  I want to show off this dress a little longer,” you say, doing a little twirl, “Don’t you think my dress is nice?”

“It’s perfect, sweetheart.  You’re a dream.”

You smile gratefully at Din when he drapes his tuxedo jacket over your shoulders, but your expression turns to shock as you take in his broad frame and crisp dress shirt, “You’re wearing suspenders?!”

Din laughs, “What’s wrong with suspenders?  Too old man-ish?”

Shaking your head, you take one in each of your hands, rubbing the soft black bands between your fingers and thumbs before using them to yank him towards you, “Nothing’s wrong with them, old man.  Gives me something to hold on to.”

Din’s mouth meets yours, palms pressing down on your waist to pull you closer, so your hands are trapped between your bodies as he ravages your mouth.  After an evening of mostly sweet and chaste kisses, he is more than ready to have his fill of you; to show you with his lips, his tongue, his hands, his cock just what you and that very nice dress have been doing to him all evening.

You grapple internally with the part of you that wants to skip your subway suggestion and get home with Din as quickly as possible, and the one that wants to extend this magical part of your evening a little longer.  You opt for the option with the most public making out.  The normally short walk to the closest subway station takes three times as long; every few steps taken interrupted to allow for the increasing need to press lips together, to overlap tongues, to grip arms and waists and hold them hostage within needy hands.

On the platform, Din hugs you close as the subway arrives, bringing with it a tunnel of wind; Din holds down what he can of your dress so the fabric doesn’t blow up and instead, flutters harmlessly around your ankles.  Hair blowing gently around your face as Din looks down at you with a goofy grin, you feel like you’re in a movie.

Luckily, the subway isn’t too busy tonight and you readily find seats.  Sitting next to each other in the middle of an empty bench that runs along the side of the car, you twist to face Din and cross your legs and tuck your skirts under so the slit doesn’t cause your dress fall open scandalously.  With your right arm, you rest your elbow on the top of the seat and reach your hand forward to lazily let your fingers trail up and down the back of Din’s neck.  Ever so lightly twirling the curls at the base of his neck around your index finger, you delight in observing Din’s subtle expression of pleasure grow with every little tug.  With your left hand, you’re holding onto Din’s right suspender, slowly running your hands up and down, enjoying the feeling of security it inexplicably gives you.  You really do love these suspenders on him so much; his already distinguished look tonight elevated even more with these two black straps that snugly frame his impressive chest. 

Unable to take your eyes off the handsome man in front of you, you’re well aware of the silly, dopey look of pure satisfaction and contentment on your face.  It’s a look Din mirrors back.  His right hand is resting on the thigh of your leg that’s crossed over, ready to catch any fabric that slips from under your leg; lightly rubbing and squeezing your thigh as a reminder that he’s here (as if you could forget).  His left hand is tenderly stroking your right cheek and jaw, alternating between cupping your chin and stroking it with his thumb, and grazing your jawline with the back of his fingers. 

The two of you are in your own little world.  Eyes only for each other, sweet longings whispered only for the other’s ear, an intimate bubble suspended amidst the bustle of the late-night commute.

“What are you thinking, pretty bird,” Din asks, when you’ve been leaning into his touch on your face, eyes closed, for a minute.

Opening your eyes and giving him a playful smile, you lean forward to whisper low in his ear, “I’m trying to figure out how you’re going to keep those suspenders on when we fuck tonight.”

“Sweetheart.”

“Obviously, you’ll keep them on while I blow you.  That’s a no brainer.  Just pop that delicious cock out of your trousers and I’ll be ready on my knees with my mouth open.  No need to take off your pants or the suspenders,” you feign a look of deep thought, as if pondering a long form mathematical equation.

“Fuck.  Baby, I swear… your mouth…”

You pretend to pay him no heed, continuing with your musings, “Right.  My mouth.  Your cock in my mouth is covered.  But what about when that cock is stretching out my cunt?  How can you keep the suspenders on then?  I want hold on to them and ride you, baby, but if you have your pants on when I sink down on that dick won’t I make a wet mess all over your lap?”

“You can’t just say these things to me in public, pretty bird.”

“Why not?”

“Because I might get so riled up and snap.  Turn you over on these seats and lift up this pretty dress of yours so I can pound into your slutty pussy in front of all these people.”

Fuccckkkkkk.  You let a soft moan slip as you close your eyes and feel Din’s forehead touch yours, his slightly heavier than usual breathing fan across your lips.  You want him so much, and you don’t care if everyone on this subway knows it.  Closing the distance between the two of you, you bring your lips to his.  Gently molding yourself to the rolling plains of his body, you block out every other person and sound on this train and just melt into Din, blurring the lines of where you end and he begins.

You don’t know if it’s instinct, or just too much time in your life as a woman spent being aware, of being cautious, but out of the corner of your eye, the movement of a young woman further down the subway car from you and Din, pulls you out of your daydream state.  Din feels you stiffen before seeing it, a reversal of your roles from earlier in the evening.  You turn your head to see the young woman being walked backwards into the closed doors by the advancement of a man who’s stalking towards her, arms gesturing aggressively. 

“Din,” you whisper.

He stands at your unspoken command; following your eyeline that’s still fixed upon the girl, Din assesses the situation with his trained eye before quickly deciding on a course of action.  Gently pinching your chin as he passes you on his way down the car, he placates your concerned look, “Don’t worry, pretty bird.  Stay here.”  You reach up to hold the same hand, giving it a little squeeze before letting him go with a “Be careful please.”

As Din makes his way towards the situation, the offending man’s voice gets louder and suddenly you can hear his increasingly hostile tone and disturbing words:

“I said you were pretty.  You’re supposed to say ‘Thank you’ when people compliment you.”

“You think you’re too good for me, bitch?”

“Look at me!  I’m fucking talking to you!!”

Your heart is pounding, and you feel so deeply for the girl; she must be feeling so small and scared right now.  You know that Din is on the way and that she won’t be in any danger, but she doesn’t know that.  Din is not the only man that’s making his way over; three younger men who were roused by the ruckus join Din in a makeshift group, striding towards the opposite end of the train from you. 

“Get away from her,” yells the man on Din’s right.

The harasser looks up to see the group of four men making their way over to him, and sneers, “Fuck off, mates.  This doesn’t have anything to do with you.”

“Wrong, mate,” shouts another of the men.  Din reaches the scene first and immediately puts himself between the offender and the girl, bracing his arms outwards to maintain a distance between them.  The other three men busy themselves with surrounding harasser and containing his movements while Din asks the girl if she’s okay.  Once he’s assured that she’s not hurt and that doesn’t want anything to do with this man, he tells her she’s safe and ushers her down the car towards you.  You hold out your arms and call out to the girl; she flees into your embrace, crying.  Stroking her hair, you tell her it’s okay, that she didn’t do anything wrong and she’s safe now.  Meanwhile, back at the end of the subway car, the offender is getting more agitated, clearly not doing the smart thing and settling down.  It’s taking all of the young men to restrain him as he struggles and continues to yell obscenities: “Get the fuck off of me, mates,” “She liked it!  She smiled at me,” “All this for some dumb slut?”

Covering the girl's ears so she doesn’t have to listen to his insults, you’re watching Din reach to get a more strategic hold on the man when, in horror, you see the harasser’s spastic movements break through the arms of the young men and he comes sprinting down the subway car towards you.

In a flash, you scramble out of your seat to round the girl, deliberately sitting yourself down in the seat on her other side and covering her body with yours.  Turning your head, you see Din hauling the man back down the car by the scruff of his neck, never knowing if he even got anywhere near you and the girl before Din took control of the situation.  Din slams him against the partition next to the doors and you hear him growl, “Don’t go near her.”  From the tone of his voice, you know that Din doesn’t mean the girl who’s still trembling in your arms.  Turning your attention back to her, you continuously reassure her that she’s safe and that the man won’t get anywhere close to her.  You can no longer hear what’s being said down at the other end of the car, but you see that Din still has his hand on the offender’s chest, restraining and talking down at him; he holds the man’s now terrified gaze while the other three men form a semi-circle behind them.  When the train comes to the next stop, the offender is shoved off the train, with Din and the three men also stepping off to discourage any attempts to re-enter.  Only when you hear the announcement that the doors are closing and see Din step back on the train do you breathe a sigh of relief, letting the girl know that it’s over, her aggressor is finally gone.  She's able to give a small laugh through her tears and throws her arms around you.  You pull back from her hug only when you feel Din sit down behind you, his palm gently curling around your waist. 

“Oh, thank you, thank you.  I wasn’t even looking at him, and then he just started screaming at me!  I didn’t know what to do!  Thank you so much for helping me.”

Both you and Din smile at the girl and continue to reassure her that it’s no problem and that she’s safe now.  When she’s calmed a bit, she feels better enough to wave her thanks at the three young men that have since returned to their seats; one of the young men gives her a friendly salute and a nod of solidarity to Din.

“Will you be okay to get to where you’re going, hun?” you ask, not sure if you feel okay leaving the girl alone yet.

She looks unsure but nods slowly, “I’m the next stop.  Omigod, I thought he was going to follow me,” before her eyes start to well up.

“Do you want to report it to security?  We can go with you.  There are enough witnesses and cameras-” Din stops when the girl starts shaking her head furiously.

“I just want to go home,” she says tearfully.

You’re full of understanding and sympathy; you know Din’s thinking about it from a security protocol standpoint, but as a woman, you understand what this girl is feeling: the preference to put it behind her, to move on, to get home and feel safe again.  You look at Din and he instinctively defers to you here, understanding that there are emotions and fears that he will never truly know.

“Do you want us to walk with you?” you offer, “We don’t even have to walk together if you don’t want.  We can just hang back until you get to where you need to go.  Be there for you if you need us?”

She seems to think about it for a moment before nodding, “Yes, thank you.” 

The three of you exit the station in triangle formation and continue this way as you walk in the direction the girl’s heading.  You’re holding your skirts in one hand, your other hand clasped firmly in the girl’s, having not let go since she grabbed it when you stood up in the subway together.  Din walks a few paces behind, your personal watch dog, while you keep the girl talking and occupied with light hearted topics (reality tv shows, pets, pop music).  Finally, you reach a building that the girl says is hers, and you give her one last big hug, as well as your phone number; she gives Din a hug as well and many more thanks before going in.

Once you feel like she’s safely inside, you exhale and then turn to launch yourself into Din’s waiting arms, “Oh, thank you, thank you, Din.  Thank you for helping her.”  You love him so much; not only can you always count on him to keep you safe, but he steps up at every opportunity to care for strangers as well.

Din pulls you in tight and buries his face in your hair, “You don’t have to thank me, pretty bird.  It was the right thing to do.”

Pulling back to look at him, you need him to understand what a good man he is, “But not a lot of people would have stepped in.  In fact, most don’t.”  You hold his face with your hands, gently caressing his jaw, “That girl was so lucky you were there tonight.”

“She was lucky you were there, baby.  You saw the problem first, then you took care of her, protected her too.  You’re her hero tonight, sweetheart.”

Putting your hand in the one Din holds out to you, you smile at him, eyes shining and heart overflowing with fondness for him.  Walking back towards the subway station, hand in hand, you reflect on Din’s strength.  How he wields it without fanfare, no false bravado, just a quiet, commanding confidence.  How the other men in the subway naturally deferred to him, unquestioned.  How he took care of the whole room.  Took care of you.  He’s powerful.  Magnificent. 

Din catches you looking at him with a deep-set look of affection, “What’s that look for, pretty bird?”

“Just thinking about you and how strong you are.  So protective and capable.  You’re fearless, Din.”

“I do get scared, though, baby.  Got scared tonight on that subway. When that guy broke away and started running towards you,” he looks at you, with an almost wounded look, “And I saw you switch spots with that girl and cover her, I was afraid he was going to hurt you.”

“I’m sorry, Din.  I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“Don’t be sorry, pretty bird.  You put her well being ahead of yours because that’s the type of person you are.  And I love you for it.”

“I learn from the best,” you smile at him, eyes full of warmth.

“I’m never going to let you get hurt, sweet girl.  Ever.”  Din stops walking to look at you, and you can tell he’s being serious.  You lace your hands on the back of his neck, “I know, baby.  I know I’m always safe with you.”  And you kiss him reverently, as if to seal in your trust and belief in him.

It doesn’t take long before your kisses turn passionate; the events of the evening catching up to the both of you and unleashing the long building tension and want you’ve been harbouring.  Your mouth opens up to Din and he eagerly licks in, mapping the slope of your tongue with his own; he drinks in your soft whimpers and gentle cries of pleasure, and when his mouth gives yours a brief respite so he can take a breath, you sigh, “My hero.”

Din braces his hand against a nearby lamp pole, and walks you backwards until your head rests against the back of his hand; his other curving around your waist and pulling you flush against him.  He bends to kiss your neck and instinctively, you tilt your head to allow him more access; pressing soft, breathy butterfly kisses from the base of your neck up to your ear, Din can practically feel your body pulsing beneath his hands.  You whine a little when he nibbles on your earlobe and murmurs, “How do you plan on rewarding your hero, baby girl?  Do I get to play with your pretty pussy?”

“Oh god, yes, Din,” you gasp shakily, “Please. Take me home, baby.  I don’t want to take the subway anymore.”

“No?” he murmurs against your lips, “Want me to call a car?  Or just wait until we see a cab?”

“Whatever gets us home fastest, Din,” you plead, desperation evident in your eyes and tone.

Din looks up and down the street, empty save for some local traffic with no cabs in sight; he pulls out his phone to check the cars in the area and smirks when he sees the make and model of one of the closest cars to your location and selects it. 

It doesn’t take long for the black Suburban to pull up to where you and Din are waiting; Din holding you close with your head tucked into your favourite nook under his chin, perfect for you to press the periodic kiss to his neck whenever the fancy strikes you (constantly).  When the driver confirms he’s here for Din, you look up at Din, amused, “This huge car for just the two of us?”

“It was the closest one,” he shrugs, but you catch a slight uptick in the corner of his mouth before you turn and let him help you in.  Din gently steers you past the pilot seats to the spacious third row seating far back in the car.  With you seated behind the second-row pilot seat, and Din taking up most of the exposed middle seat, you’re afforded a fair amount of privacy for the ride. 

As soon as the car starts moving, Din is on you, hands grabbing at your upper waist, thumbs pressed up to draw circles on the underside of your breasts, mouth licking your neck in hot stripes.

“Din!” you half giggle, half gasp, “The driver!”

Din moves so his body covers part of yours as he peppers kisses across your collar bone; one of his hands circle behind you while the other trails down your body, searching, “We’re all the way in the back, pretty bird.  No one can see.”

Swallowing a moan when Din’s hand finds the slit of your dress, your legs part as he starts to slide his way up your thigh, “Is this why you chose this car? To give us privacy?”

“The privacy is for other people, sweetheart.  I know if it was up to my slutty bunny, we’d be putting on a show for the driver and every car at every stop light.  Isn’t that right, baby?”

As Din’s fingers inch closer to your core, you feel yourself dripping in your underwear, so turned on by the idea of other people seeing Din have his way with you.  You hum in pleasure as Din discovers your soaked panties and runs his fingers over the fabric; he kisses you greedily, murmuring against your lips, “Such a dirty girl, already wet for me.  So ready to be fucked, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

“Oh, fuck yes, daddy,” you whimper against his lips.

Din’s fingers slide further and press down on your slit, shallow thrusting the soaked lace of your panties into your tight hole before curling his fingers up to your clit and drawing firm circles that leave you panting into his mouth.  He takes great pleasure in feeling you squirm beneath him and hearing your breathy gasps as he repeats this pattern over and over.

“Daddy please,” your eyes widen to beseech Din for some mercy.  His touches are setting you on fire, but you need more. 

Din kisses you hurried and hard, “What does my pretty little slut need?  Use your words, bunny.”  He lightly pinches your clit over your panties and your cry out at the sudden pressure.  After you hear what you think is your driver turning up the volume of the radio in the front, you whimper into Din’s neck, “Need you inside me, Din.”

“Is this what you’re so needy for, baby?”  Din pushes aside the gusset of your panties and glides his fingers through your wet folds, teasing your slit with each stroke. 

“Yes, yes, daddy.  That’s what your dirty whore needs,” you moan softly, closing your eyes and letting your head fall back on the headrest of the seat; spreading your legs further to give Din’s hand more room and full access to your pussy.

Din slides two of his fingers through your arousal, finding and toying with your most sensitive pleasure points; the ones that have you whining with desperation when he brushes over them, again and again.  “Look at my slutty bun, letting her big bad wolf finger fuck her in front of a total stranger.  Moaning like a whore for everyone to hear,” he whispers hotly in your ear as he slips his two fingers deep into your cunt, meeting no resistance with how riled up and wet you are from his filthy words.  As you cry out from the sudden stretch, Din covers your mouth with his, nibbling at your lower lip gently; a sweet contrast with the hard push and pull of his fingers.  Feeling your slick drip down his fingers onto his palm, Din stuffs a third finger into your cunt and is rewarded with the arch of your back and a barely choked out whine of his name.

Lowering his head to suck on the sweet spot on your neck, Din continues to pump in and out of you as he watches in awe as you fall apart from his efforts; your are eyes closed and mouth open, letting jagged breaths and sounds of pleasure slip while your chest heaves and your lower body grinds into his hand.  He’s never seen anything more beautiful.

Your eyes flutter open and when they focus, you make direct eye contact with a pair of eyes reflected in the rearview mirror at the front of the car.  The driver averts his eyes quickly as you gasp, half in surprise, and half from the thrill that runs through you of being watched.  It’s depraved, but you feel a fresh wave of arousal coat Din’s fingers as you clench around them, “Din, he’s watching,” you whisper.

Din’s fingers slow, and his voice is soft, caring, “Is that okay, baby?”

Oh gosh you adore him.  Even in this compromising position, both of you heady with desire, his priority is still your comfort, your safety.  You beam at him, “It’s okay, daddy.”

“Dirty girl,” he groans as he crashes his lips to your, pulling from you moans and whimpers as he resumes thrusting into your wet heat with a quickened pace.

Your tongue clashes with Din’s and your kisses become sloppier as passion overtakes your bodies.  The familiar coil in your abdomen tingles as it tightens, your entire body flushed with anticipation and desire.  Din knows your body by now and recognizes the signs of your impending release: the tightening of your walls around his fingers, the shortening of your breaths, the unfocused look in your eyes.  Right hand stretching out to brace against the side of the car while your left grabs onto the suspender closest to you, you hang on for some semblance of control while Din presses down on your clit with his thumb.  Your entire body lurches as far forward as Din’s hold will allow as he draws firm circles timed perfectly to his thrusting fingers. 

“Din, I-I-I’m so close,” you breathe.

“I got you, my pretty bun.  I got you, I got you,” Din venerates, his punishing pace never wavering; the squelching sounds of his hand driving into you over and over, only getting louder, begin to push you over the edge.

As your cunt starts to flutter, he rounds his body over yours, placing himself between you and the front of the car like a shield, growling, “No one sees you come but me, pretty bird.” 

His possessive tone sends you careening over the edge; grabbing his other suspender and pulling him towards you, you come hard.  Your chest presses against his as your body shudders, you cry so high pitched it’s nearly soundless, and you soak Din’s hand with your release.  Din slows his hand as he sees you through your high, kissing you tenderly and telling you what a good girl you are, “You did so good, baby.  Always come so pretty for me.”

Resting your head on his shoulder, you watch Din slip his hand out from underneath your skirt and bring his shiny fingers up to his mouth; he sucks his fingers clean with an obscene pop and smirks to you, “So sweet.”

Once clean, he uses that hand to reach behind you and pull his jacket back over your shoulders from where it had fallen.  Snuggling under Din’s jaw, you sigh happily as you feel him pull you closer, “I love you, Din.”

“I love you more, pretty bird,” Din presses a loving kiss to your head.  You close your eyes, boneless and pliant, curling up and resting in the comfort of Din’s arms.  You could have easily fallen asleep in your sated state, rocked to a slumber by the smooth motion of the car, if it did not pull up to the front of your building when it did.  As you exit the car, you bid the driver a soft ‘thank you’ before letting Din help you down; he pulls you into his embrace, making sure his jacket keeps you warm as he closes the door behind you.

Once the car drives off, you slip your hand into Din’s, making to walk towards the front doors, but look back when he doesn’t move with you.

“Huh.” Din’s stands in place, still holding your hand, looking down at his phone with an amused expression.

“What’s that?” you ask.

He faces the phone towards you, chuckling, “He rated us five stars.”

Laughing, you shake your head as you slip your fingers under one suspender, then slide it over to grab the other with the same hand, pulling Din in for a sweet kiss before turning to head into your building with him still in tow, “Come on, Mister Five Stars.”

[milkywayan]

Things I made in 2023

I feel like I have made a lot of stuff last year, so I want to share. Everything is 100% hand sewn because I hate sewing machines, and I also make my own patterns

this 1480s jacket (most of that I made in 2022, but I finished it in 2023. Based on a few jackets seen in German art, detailed making of post in the pinned post

i dont have a good pic i realised, but this blouse that I made from an old curtain with shitty equipment while visiting my parents

15th century gown. once again, making of post in pinned post. I feel like a wizard wearing it

brown 15th century dress number 1. really nice thin fabric, i ripped the sleeve while setting up a tent and felt very buff. making off post in pinned post

these trousers, or breeches. not made from scratch, but made from old woollen suit trousers from my grandmother. I love them and wear them all the time and have 3 more pairs of her old trousers that I also want to make into this style

in the theme of upcycling: this dress is made of an old, hand embroidered pillow case from my grandmother (bodice), and an old skirt from my mum. perfect for summer!

brown 15th centuru dress number 2. I made this in a week, to have a working kirtle that I could quickly put on in the mornings. 10/10 i wore this the most this year i think. light fabric and wide sleeves are ideal. making of post in pinned post

medieval shift, I made two of those

wool skirt I made without measuring anything. very dark academia, I like it

and finally, my epiphany project. dreamt this dress up on the metro and had to make it. dyed the fabric, hand embroidered it, constructed the sleeves, made fabric buttons and sewed 20 button holes by hand, just to wear it to a christmas party. i am very proud of it

I want to do more upcycling projects in 2024, as I am finishing my PhD this year and won't have time for reenactment events. So more modern stuff is in the plans! (aka stuff i will wear in every day life, idk what is modern)

[theothergal]

As a certified Season 3 costumes hater, I think they did Kate especially dirty. In my opinion, Kate's outfits in Season 2 outshine all other outfits in the whole Bridgerton.

Meanwhile, in Season 3, they gave her these muted, drab dresses that don't do her justice. Her worst outfit in Season 2 Is still 10 times better than any of these, in my opinion.

Actually, almost all the costumes in Season 3 look bad: tacky, cheap looking and often not even vaguely regency inspired.

Only Penelope looked nice (and sporadically, Francesca and Alice Mondrich), and even then, I wasn't crazy about her outfits, I only really liked a couple of them.

Talking about Kate's outfits, though, they are lucky that Simone's face card saved the whole situation, otherwhise most of these costumes would be indefendible, and I say this as somebody with very bad taste, clothing wise.

The first one Is...bah. Just bah. Stiff looking, not obscenely ugly, not too nice either.

The red spencer and blue dress combo was actually, cute, especially since it actually has COLOR, something really lacking in Kate's dresses this season. If only It had lasted for more than 3 seconds...

The saree inspired dress leaves me with mixed opinions. I don't hate the cut (though I've heard indian reviewers say that the draping Is nothing like a saree), but the colors don't do It.

The peacock silver overdress Is... something. Now, unlike other people, I won't complain that It looks too matronly, even thought It does, because I actually like this style. It's the rest that bothers me. The ugly plastic-y fabric, the colors that make poor Simone look ashy, the peacock prints that don't match the rest of the outfit...Terrible, truly terrible.

That gown they had her wear at Polin's engagement party Is also a big no-no for me. First, the color doesn't flatter her at all. Second, It looks way too modern even for Bridgerton's standards. I swear, I've seen something similar in that shopping center close to my former high school, sold for 20 euros. And those thin straps bother me. Don't know why, they just do.

The outfit she wears the night before Polin's wedding also leaves me with mixed opinions. The overdress Is nice, but the fabric of the dress Is weird, I cannot quite point out what Is wrong, I simply don't like It.

The dress she wears for Polin's wedding Is my least favorite. Sorry, I hate It. I hate the sheer fabric on the top and the sleeves, I hate that silhouette, I hate those hideous prints. And also the makeup.

The nightswear Is very cute, nothing bad to say about it. Again, if only we saw It for more than 3 seconds...

[sophie-looks-at-stuff]

Some random modern HotD headcanons :)

Hey y’all! So I kept thinking of some funny, and very specific headcanons for the HotD characters, so I decided to just make it a whole post. This will actually be my first “legit” post on here, lol! Anyways, this will include some headcanons about Aemond, Aegon II, Luke, Jace, Daemon, Rhaenyra, Helaena, etc. But hope y’all enjoy lol! :)

Ok, I am convinced that Aemond has a secret stash of tea hidden somewhere. He's even put them all in a very nice ornate, antique box. It's his guilty pleasure. He probably would have some Earl Gray, English Breakfast, maybe even some lavender mint for the evenings. He'd keep it secret because all the teas he's gotten are way too expensive, and special.

Luke is an avid Minecraft gamer. Like he's basically built Dragonstone, and the Red Keep in his server. He'll play sometimes with Jace, or maybe even Aegon. But he doesn't let them into that world. Aegon would probably blow it all up with TnT.

Speaking of gaming, I think some people are on the same page that Aegon would be some kind of gamer. He'd be up to date on all the new systems and gadgets. He'd be one of the firsts to have the PS5 when it came out. He probably plays a lot of Call of Duty. Maybe even some Valorant when he doesn't wanna fire up the PS. He'd definitely be cursing and yelling at the game, to the point where Alicent threatens to take it away.

While Rhaenyra watches her shows, House Wives, Rupaul's Drag Race, etc. Daemon pretends to be not interested, but really he's super invested. He'd be leaning against the couch, or the wall totally sucked in. And when Rhaenyra tells him to just sit down and watch with her, he's all like, "no no I don't even like this show". But then he'd say things like, "Well maybe if her gown was better made she wouldn't have been eliminated last episode".

Aegon gives me frat boy energy. And I know I'm not the first to say that lol. You already know he's planning all the parties, and picking the themes. I like to think he'd be very invested into picking the themes. They would be things like, dragon night, wear your fave dragon scale colors. Or something like, Dragonstone beach night, wear your swim suits and flip flops.

Alicent likes to knit. Or maybe crochet? It's her stress reliever activity after dealing with Aegon, and the rest of the boys. Helaena is always giving her new patterns or designs to try.

I think Alicent also likes to take the occasional Buzzfeed quiz. "If you were a cake flavor, here's what you'd be based on your star sign".

Helaena runs a very successful tik tok account. She'd post her outfits, and maybe some art or cool bugs she's found.

Aegon listens to a lot of Megan Thee Stallion and Kim Petras. He's blasting Kim Petras' Treat me like a Slut at least 5 times a day. He gets ready to it in the morning.

Aemond will get down to some Amy Winehouse.

Jace works at the local animal shelter as his summer job. He only got the job cause Rhaenyra said he needed to get out of the house. Plus Helaena also works there, so she helped him get hired.

Aemond would be a great bartender. Not with like actually interacting with customers, but he can make some great drinks. Like he's over here coming up with all these crazy cocktails. Although, like his tea obsession he keeps this on the low. He doesn't want Aegon asking him to make drinks all the time. Gods forbid he asks Aemond to bartend at one of the frat parties.

Helaena was a Monster High girl growing up.

Aemond has a motorcycle. It was his one rebellious purchase. Alicent hates it.

Luke can kick Aegon's ass in any game, video or otherwise. You name it, Call of Duty, UNO, Valorent, Go fish...

Rhaenyra has a bit of a sweet tooth, but she has to hide her candy stash, cause the boys will steal it in a heartbeat. Who would have thought Daemon would love lemon drops so much.

I really could go on forever, these are just too fun to write. But I'll leave it here for now lol.

[blurredcolour]

You Arms Pull Me In Like The Tide Pulls Me Under | Epilogue

Your Arms Pull Me In Like The Tide Pulls Me Under Masterlist

Dick Winters x Female SOE Agent!Reader

The end of the war is just the beginning of the rest of your lives.

Photo Credit: East Islip Historical Society

Warnings: Discussion of War Hardships, Permanent Injury/Disability, Holiday Party Setting, Inevitable Historical and Military Inaccuracies, Language, Mature/Explicit Themes - 18+ ONLY.

Note: This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal of Dick Winters by Damian Lewis. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within. Non-English is denoted in italics.

Word Count: 1244

-------------------------

Nixon, New Jersey – December 20, 1946

The sprawling home of Stanhope Nixon was overflowing with guests, alcohol, and music as the annual Nixon Nitration Works holiday party was in full swing. Catering staff were milling about with silver trays of canapés and champagne while the management staff and their wives ate, drank, and made merry amongst the millwork and art that adorned Lewis’s father’s New Jersey home.

Lewis himself was busy playing host alongside his father, with his British war bride Irene in tow, as Dick kindly introduced you to his immediate supervisor. The modest diamond engagement ring and matching wedding band on your left ring finger refracted the light against the glass of champagne Lewis had planted in your hand upon your arrival, snagging your attention as it still tended to do, even eight months on.

The end of the war had come around the same time for you and Dick, with the Japanese surrender for him and with your discharge from Major Wilke’s command upon the arrival of the Allied prosecutorial team in Nuremberg furnished with a fleet of translators freshly released from Bletchley Park and other frontline duties. It had been bittersweet to be no longer needed, but as you had admitted to Dick that dreamy summer day in Austria, you were quite finished with your time in Europe.

It had taken over five months for Europe to let you go, however. Returning to England had been the easy part, your uncle’s widow in Oxford welcoming you back with open arms. With your more ambiguous service record under CWAC, however, return to Canada had taken rather longer. Priority on troop ships was naturally given to the boys in uniform, and then the girls who had enlisted in Canada. You had waited impatiently for your turn, working with your aunt to alter the wedding gown she had squirreled away from her own marriage in 1936. It had been her hope for her own daughter to wear it someday, but she had insisted as you were the closest thing she would ever have to such a person now, you ought to have it. So, it had become your joint project to turn it into something more modern for whenever you could find yourself standing in front of Dick Winters again.

That chance had not presented itself until March of 1946. Dick had arrived by train in your hometown in Canada, insistent on asking your father’s permission to marry you in person. He brought a ring, as promised, and married you one week later. Immigration paperwork had taken six weeks to clear, but you were grateful that it was nothing like the delay women from overseas endured. By the time you arrived in Nixon, New Jersey, Dick had a modest house and a car waiting for you, true to his word again. By the fall, you’d started offering private French lessons and you and Dick were seriously discussing whether or not you would attend vocational school to become a public-school teacher. Life was good, better than you could have ever imagined.

This party, however, had begun to drag on. Your feet were beginning to hurt as you stood around in your heels and you were feeling the strain of trying keep up with the myriad of conversations swirling around you amid the din of music and laughter. Dick’s hand on your lower back had you turning to him as he leaned into your left ear. “Let me show you the library.” His thumb swept along the fabric of your dress soothingly and you nodded gratefully as he excused you both.

Leading you down the hallway confidently, you wondered how many times he had been in this house, but felt your shoulders relax as the oppressive wall of sound faded away behind you. Guiding you around a corner, you couldn’t help but gasp as you stepped into a room filled with an expansive collection of leatherbound books, a fire laid in a stone hearth with a cozy seating area in front anchoring the space.

“Did we just find heaven?” You whispered conspiratorially and he chuckled as he kissed your temple, leading you to sit on an overstuffed leather sofa.

Setting down your now-empty glass on the low table in front of you, you sighed as you pressed a thumb between your brows. “I’m sorry it was so obvious I was having a hard time in there.” You apologized softly.

Sliding an arm around your shoulders, he gave a gentle squeeze. “Only to me, honey.” He assured you.

The sound of footsteps in the hall had both your heads turning sharply, concerned your sanctuary was about to be disrupted, but it was only Lewis who appeared in the doorway. “I thought I saw you two sneak off here.” He smirked, a glass of whisky in one hand and a bottle of Canada Dry ginger ale in the other. Kicking the door shut behind him, he came to sit in one of the armchairs across from the pair of you.

“Apparently we were not as subtle as we hoped.” You laughed as he poured half the bottle into your empty glass before handing the remainder to Dick, raising his own glass of amber liquid in a toast.

“Happy Holidays.”

“Happy Holidays, Lew.” Dick replied before your glassware came together in an awkward symphony of mismatched ‘clinks’ before you each took an appreciative sip.

“And to think we spent the last few scattered hither and yon.” Lewis remarked.

“Eating potatoes…” you muttered.

“Or nothing at all.” Dick added thoughtfully.

“Couldn’t get beef, Vat 69…nylons…” Lewis gave a nod in your direction, and you glanced at the closed door before eyeing him over the rim of your glass.

“Oh, I suppose it was a bit of a nuisance, but I honestly did appreciate having silk in my parachutes.” You took a leisurely sip, waiting for his reaction.

It unfolded slowly, his eyes widening before he sucked in a breath laced with droplets of his treasured whisky before coughing violently, pointing at you. “I knew it.” He wheezed eventually as you tried not to laugh too brightly at his expense. Dick held no such qualms, laughing richly beside you.

“Of course you did, you saw my last day firsthand.”

“But you finally admitted it! Please, you have to tell me everything…” He leaned forward eagerly, and you swallowed, wishing more than anything that you could.

There was still a great deal you hadn’t even shared with Dick; The Official Secrets Act preventing you from divulging anything. How you longed to share everything with them – the training schools in Scotland, the slosh of an aggressive amount of rum in your belly as you had fallen no more than ten seconds to hit the ground outside Lyon, your harrowing journey across the Pyrenees mountains into Spain to find passage back to England with your fresh side wound nagging at every step. The determination that had driven you back to Normandy just weeks after you return to London, and the eight months of exhausting, tension-laced work that had preceded their arrival. How you longed to share everything, to commiserate and to laugh. To be honest.

“Someday, Lewis. Someday it won’t be treason to talk about it and I will tell you everything.” You promised.

“To someday, then.” He grinned, raising his glass in another toast. “And believe me I will hold you to that.”

Laughing warmly, you raised yours in return. “To someday.”

-------------------------

Your Arms Pull Me In Like The Tide Pulls Me Under Masterlist

Tag list: @allthingsimagines, @bcon24

[apinchofm]

first meeting/modern au - edwina sharma x prince friedrich

for @tarrynmj

"This is an expensive dress."

"As is this watch, perhaps that's why we are stuck like this."

Edwina cannot help but giggle at the situation. Leaving her hotel room, carrying multiple bags herself, plus her own clutch, was not the best idea. The dress, a deep pink with wide sheer sleeves was beautiful when she bought it.

She had not expected to bump into a stranger and get stuck to him. Sophie had said the dress would help her pull - Edwina did not think that she meant this!

The stranger was more amused than anything.

"Let's see," He hums gently as he works to unhook the material from his timepeice. A small thread had hooked itself onto the small movement.

"It is a beautiful watch." Edwina compliments weakly.

"It was my father's." He tells her.

He managed to unhook them, "Well, he was rather a, ah, lothario?" He says, "I do hope this was not one of his tricks."

"Um, I'm Edwina." She introduced.

"Freddie." He shook her hand and then looked at the time, "Ah, good, not late at all."

She gently grabbed his wrist to see that it was nearly six and cursed quietly whilst Freddie raised an eyebrow amused.

"Late for a meeting? Let me guess, an accountant?" Freddie asked.

"Oh, but this is all the rage at Barclays!" Edwina jokes, "No, it's my sister's bachelorette party." She began to pick up the glittery party bags.

"Here let me help. It is the least I can do." He takes four of the six bags and they walk to the elevator together as Edwina tries to avoid direct eye contact.

"These are beautiful party favors," Freddie says.

"Oh, I put them together - a little something for my sister and the group," Edwina explained.

"Slippers?" He gestures to the fluffy items wrapped in plastic.

"You do not know the pain of wearing heels for hours on a night out, do you?"

He clicked his tongue, "Second year of undergrad refreshers week - I won a bet." He says. She giggles. Stand up! Edwina scolded herself.

"You must be really close to be doing all this?" Freddie asked.

Edwina shrugs, "It's nothing. Kate, she would do the same. She's always taken care of me and I just want all of this to go well. For her to have so much fun before going on to have more fun. And I love planning things. And gift bags. This was perfect for me!"

Freddie smiled gently at her enthusiasm as she looked away, her face warm with embarrassment.

"I am the eldest myself." He tells her, "My sister is still in school - uh, year 12? She wants to be a vet and wants me to get married so she can wear a ball gown."

"Oh good for her. You are a cruel brother, depriving her of the occasion!" Edwina playfully gasped.

He grinned, "I am just awful. What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Will your sister be struggling with gift bags with slippers and candy anytime soon?"

"I'm not the greatest at dating." Edwina said sheepishly, "I mean, I have been on dates but..." She shuts her eyes in embarrassment as she rambles and stutters.

But Freddie wasn't teasing or judgmental, smirking and said, "You are single. Good. I still have a chance."

They reached the ground floor and he dutifully followed her to the hotel bar and restaurant to the booked table.

Kate was at the bar, dressed in a mini silver dress and excited to see her sister escorted by a very handsome man.

Kate mouthed 'who's the hot guy?' from behind and Edwina's eyes widened in embarrassment.

"Thanks." She said shyly to Freddie who grinned.

"Have a fun night," He said with a wink and then left, but not before looking back at the funny woman in pink.

Kate smirked, then deepened her voice, "Have a fun night," She said mockingly, "I think he wanted to have a good night with you."

"Shut up. He was just a nice man." Edwina scolded and decided to distract her sister by waving her goody bag in front of her face which only worked momentarily.

"You are beautiful, bon. Thank you for all of this."

"Well, how else shall I celebrate your first marriage?" Edwina teased, making her laugh.

"Anyway, who was the cute man?"

Edwina shrugged, "I don't know. Our rooms are next to each other."

"Ooh, maybe it's fate!" Kate teased.

Edwina shook her head but there was a part of her that hoped so. She didn't realize that Freddie felt the same way.

[shivaniboutique]

Ball Gown Party Wear Western Dress

If you're looking for ball gown party wear or Western gown design ideas, here are some popular and timeless styles:

Princess Ball Gown:

A classic choice with a fitted bodice and a full, voluminous skirt.

Consider embellishments like lace, sequins, or embroidery for an elegant touch.

Off-Shoulder Elegance:

Opt for an off-shoulder ball gown for a romantic and glamorous look.

Choose luxurious fabrics like satin or silk for added sophistication.

A-Line Perfection:

A-line gowns are universally flattering, creating a balanced silhouette.

Play with different necklines, such as V-neck or sweetheart, for a modern twist.

Mermaid Glam:

For a more fitted and dramatic look, go for a mermaid-style gown.

This style accentuates the curves and often features a flared skirt from the knee down.

High-Low Hemline:

Combine the elegance of a long gown with a playful touch by choosing a high-low hemline.

This style is perfect for showcasing statement shoes.

One-Shoulder Sophistication:

Opt for a one-shoulder gown for a stylish and asymmetrical look.

Keep accessories minimal to let the unique neckline stand out.

Backless Beauty:

Consider a gown with a stunning open back for a touch of allure.

Add delicate straps or lace detailing to enhance the back design.

Tiered Tulle Fantasy:

Create a dreamy and whimsical look with a gown featuring tiered tulle layers.

Choose a color that complements your skin tone for a personalized touch.

Bold Prints and Patterns:

Break away from solid colors with bold prints or intricate patterns.

Floral prints, geometric designs, or abstract patterns can add a contemporary flair.

Caped Elegance:

Embrace the trend of caped gowns for a regal and majestic appearance.

The cape can be detachable for versatility in styling.

Remember to choose a gown that not only suits your personal style but also complements the theme and formality of the event. Whether you prefer a timeless and traditional look or something more contemporary and trendy, there are countless options to make a statement at a ball gown party.