#hairstyles for wedding mother of the groom

[soundspeachytome]

from this day forward - shohei ohtani au

a wedding au where shohei and female reader have broken up and anywhere within shohei's 5-foot radius is molten lava

special mentions: lars nootbar as the couple's best friend

trope: friends to lovers to strangers to lovers again, second chance, a bit of forced proximity, fluff

word count: 4560 words

other notes: started out as angst but decided towards a more peaceful resolution

written under the influence of 1989 the vault tracks. thank you mother taylor for your genius brain.

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The next time you'd see Shohei Ohtani was in a wedding ceremony. He would be wearing an expensive grey suit and a tie in oxford blue that you've picked up for him months before. His thick dark hair would've been waxed and slicked back showing more of his forehead. If it had been last spring, that hairstyle would not have lasted as your fingers would tug the back of his head while he stole you kisses at the security of someone's bathroom sink, locked away in the gentle murmur that both escaped your lips. You'd be late and attracting a lot of stares from the guests and terse expressions from the bride and groom, definitely knowing your shenanigans. Instead, you came here alone, at the demand of your best friend and bride, Jessica, agreeing to meet up with the rest of the entourage. Your absolute consolation would be rubbing elbows with some of Jessica's celebrity friends, being a celebrity herself, and eating expensive food. For free. You'd be seeing Shohei too, yes, since he used to be in Jessica's social circle through you, only this time, you'd be alone.

You clutched your drawstring purse tightly and made a beeline towards the mobile bar that served drinks. If you'd have to go through this entire ordeal while nursing your broken heart--in a wedding reception, no less--you might as well get plastered.  

In the last summer that you've spent with Shohei Ohtani, you realized it wasn't all rainbows and sunshine. Although the relationship did start as a one-night stand and friendly banter, you caught yourself falling deep for him. You believed he did too as he spent more and more time in your apartment and called you often despite being out of town for the season.

You knew the consequences being involved with him like that but as if under a spell, you ignored the red flags that came with being his lover. One of them being constantly reminded of public pressure and opinion. Not even being a hotshot professor with a PHD in Creative Writing and Literature in a prominent university could save you from criticism. Being the golden boy of Japanese baseball had its repercussions. The media's constant prodding into your relationship took a toll on you since the beginning. You don't like attracting attention to yourself. You were quite the private person, so was Shohei. He only answered questions about his work in the big leagues, in respect to your wishes. So why did it feel like a betrayal when he actually dodged the media when they playfully inject questions about your not-so-secret secret? Why did it feel like a denial when he could've acknowledged the relationship like a normal person at least once? But Shohei was not a normal person, and you knew that. He was special beyond imagination and you wouldn't want to do anything that would ruin his reputation, much like his chances to appease both Western and Japanese media. 

Secondly, when his dedicated fanbase learned about you being in Shohei's life, they went rabid. They found your social media accounts despite having a vague name handle on Instagram; you didn't even have your personal photo on your profile. But they were scarily smart, his fans. They figured out your cryptic photos and captions that aligned to the locations Shohei was recorded to be at (and those were your actual short quiet dates around town during his free days). You had to ironically laugh out loud once, when it all suddenly happened, an unspeakable number of notifications flooding your phone, messages you couldn't ever dream o tf ever receiving.

"Are you sure you're Shohei's girlfriend??? you don't look like Shohei's type at all."

"Girl, you're constantly with Shohei recently? Are you a stalker pretending to be his girl for attention?"

"This girl in her delulu era lmao"

It took you all the restraint in your body to reply to these anonymous accounts, convincing yourself it was not worth it. You knew with every fiber of your being that showing off Shohei Ohtani as your boyfriend was worth every malicious comment sent to you, but you didn't. You never did. You never mentioned this to him despite the anxiety eating you alive. For you, at that time, as long as you have him tangled in bedsheets, in the quietest moments, the clamor of the world outside did not matter. 

Of course, you were wrong again. Much like every out of the ordinary couple, it was destined to fail. It did not take long until he got frustrated with your frustrations. It also affected your work. More and more students gossiped and faculty bullied you into oblivion. But why couldn't you tell him anything? Why wouldn't you show him how heavy carrying the relationship has started to feel? The thing is, you didn't feel like you should demand anything more, that being with him was already a blessing and demanding more means being greedy.

One night when both of you were coming off from a sugar high after eating too much cookie dough from Target, your head lay on his arms and his face pressed against yours. You laid there in bed with him in the silence, except for the rapid beating of your heart against his chest. You prayed for moments like this, and now it's happening. You love this. You love hi--

"I think I love you." you blurted out.

"Hmm?" he doesn't lift his head and continued to lay there, voice sounding sleepy as ever.

"I think... I think I'm in love with you, Sho." you whispered. "I like you more than the first date. It's just something I felt a while back..." you rambled on waiting for a response and when you tried to unentangle yourself from his hold, he suddenly tightened his embrace, beckoning you to stay still under the covers. He started lightly snoring after a few minutes.

He heard it, right? You thought he had fallen asleep but he heard you.

So why didn't he say it back?

"You gave up on him, remember?" You said to yourself as you sipped your first glass of raspberry limoncello prosecco. "So stop acting like he owes you anything. Not even an explanation or closure, Y/N."

You caught your faint reflection on the sliding glass door right beside the mobile bar. You were wearing a blue satin dress you bought for this wedding. The neckline going lower than when you first tried it on, revealing a bit of your cleavage. The dress also has a bonus feature: the maxi dress has a slit that stops just below your right thigh. You originally bought this at the same with Shohei's tie. You thought you'd surprise him with how sexy the dress was, and with you wearing it, you could only imagine his reaction. You sighed, as you took one last look on your dress, you noticed a familiar face nearing from behind you.

"Are you sure you're not trying to get him back with that dress?" Lars Nootbar loomed from behind, grinning, eyeing the skirt.

"It would need me more than a seductive dress to get him back, Lars." You scoffed. "Besides, I'm not that drunk yet." You proudly raised your half full glass of prosecco. Lars, your best friend and wingman, who was unfortunate enough to get caught in the Cold War (Pre-Break-Up Phase), down to the Great Depression (Post-Break Up Phase) and had to be there for the both of you, separately. Poor old Lars couldn't pick a side between his two besties, that he had to go back and forth between spending his time comforting you while you went on a How I Met Your Mother rabbithole while eating only salty snacks and leftover cake; and Shohei dragging him to go on a 5-mile jog almost every morning and deadlifting more than 400lbs lbs to "bulk up for the next season". Shohei knew that Lars could smell through his bullshit. Lars gave no comment every time he suggested something crazy during their workouts, or tried to talk him out of it. He was also tightlipped on how both of you were dealing with the break up, and for that, you and Shohei were grateful. 

"Well, I'll keep my radar on in case you start hysterical crying during the reception."

"Good call. Maybe tie a leash around my ankles while you're at it." you rolled your eyes and he sniggered, revealing his dimples. 

"Lars, I swear to God, I just want to go through this wedding without breaking down. The good thing is our breakup is already out in the open, so he's walking the aisle last with his new, equally-tall, bridesmaid partner, who also happens to be a model for Vogue Japan." you said a matter-of-factly.

"Did you do your research on the bridesmaids, Miss FBI?" said Lars. It was only a matter of coping that you stalked all the women he has spent time with in social events. This wedding is no different, you thought. You just wanted to know if he had moved on with another fling. If he already replaced you that quick, then it would make you feel more vindicated when you presumed he didn't love you and fight for you at all. 

"The internet is an amazing thing. I know now how his fans got so obsessed with hunting me down."

"Did you run out of TV series to binge on that you're now stalking your ex?" said Lars. He was smiling but his eyes showed a slight worry in his expression.

"Someone's got to fill in the role of the crazy ex, you know." you joked. "Don't worry, big guy, I'm not going to have a relapse after just one wedding."

He eyed you dolefully. "I'll keep an eye on you, lady."

"There he is! Our MVP!" someone shouts. Suddenly a number of guests flocked towards the end of the hall, clapping and greeting Shohei Ohtani, who just entered the reception with Ippei Mizuhara, his trusty friend and interpreter. He smiled politely and greeted everyone as he tried to find his way towards the crowd, eyes scanning the place.

"Ooh... He came without a date. Interesting turn of events--" commented Lars, about to say a joke but was interrupted when you swiveled on your feet so fast, you could've been a Yo-yo. Lars let out a loud laugh, inviting a few looks from nearby guests. Your back facing them, sipping your prosecco nervously, and pretending your Midnight Blue marble nail art is more interesting than Baseball star, Shohei Ohtani (who inconsequentially just happens to be your ex-lover. NBD.)

"Shut up and stop looking at him!" you hissed. 

Lars chuckled and before he could say anything more, the wedding coordinator's voice boomed into the speakers. "Entourage, come forward please."

"Oh, fantastic. Here we go." You downed your remaining drink and took Lars by the arm. 

By the time you got to the entourage queue, someone called your name.

"Y/N as bridesmaid, come here please." Linda, the wedding coordinator in a stunning dress suit and pants called out. You went to her, trying to avoid eye contact with everyone else. Everyone was probably gossiping how you and Shohei didn't arrive together, or why you have your arms linked with Lars instead of his. You tried brushing it off but the guests' side glances really bothered you.

"Groomsmen, Shohei Ohtani. Stand beside Y/N, please." 

It must've been the wine because you thought you were hearing things. You chuckled to yourself. You thought Linda called--

"Shohei Ohtani, stand here, please!" Linda was waving at Shohei, who was at the back of the line to come forward and pointing at the space beside you. It took you a couple of seconds to realize what it all meant. Your eyes turned around to look for Lars. He was 2 rows behind you and reciprocated your panicked gaze. 

"Um, Linda, there must've been a mis--" You started but were immediately cut off when Shohei came to your side. 

"We're good, Linda. Thank you." He smiled politely and shook his head at me. You could only look back in disbelief.

"Didn't you say you'd have the list updated with Jessica?" You blurted out.

"I did."

"So?" Your voice raising. Shohei gave you a furtive look. He stood closer and offered his arm. All those mental preparations you had planned went down the drain as soon as you stood close to him.

"I couldn't." He started.

"I know I should have. When we split up, I always thought we would get back together so I put off telling Jessica about the breakup... and changing the list... would be... Pointless."

"You act as if you did something to prevent the breakup." you said bitterly. "Let's just get this over with and move on to our separate ways, okay?"

He looked pained when he searched your eyes, hoping you could return his gaze. You didn't and only looked straight ahead. You knew he was looking at you. You knew he was trying to say something more but couldn't. You knew that if you looked at him and saw his sad brown eyes, you'd go soft and all those months of trying to get him out of your system would all be for nothing. You're able to stand up now because you chose not to wait for him anymore. Don't go searching for a reason to look back now. 

You swallowed hard. Making a big deal out of this would only draw flak from other guests and with especially with Jessica. It's her day after all. No time for any of your meltdowns. The last thing you wanted to do is make a scene in the presence of Shohei. Especially in front of Shohei, so you put on your big girl shoes on and took his arm to walk down the aisle. You silently die inside as you gripped his biceps hard against your hand. 

Oh god, this is going to be a long day, you groaned inwardly.

The wedding ceremony went surprisingly quick. The bridesmaids were seated separately from the groomsmen on the opposite side of the hall. Once you and Shohei reached the end of the aisle, you immediately let go of his arm and walked towards the bridesmaids' table without glancing at him; Shohei did the same and walked as fast and normal as he could, trying to steady himself being near you after months of separation.

When the host announced the newly weds' entrance, you were already on your second flute of champagne. Of course, you didn't pass up the opportunity to taste the petite crab cakes and tuna tartare from the appetizers. You busied stuffing your mouth with as much food as you could so there wasn't any room for conversation. In between bathroom breaks and buttermilk biscuit refills, you'd spot someone you knew from you and Jessica's school, or from Shohei's circle, stopping by to say a quick hi. Of course, you'd exchange curt greetings and you braced yourself when it spins to the impending question.

"So sad to hear about you and Shohei, dear." one of the guests, Mrs. Nakamoto, approached you with her wine glass. She dazzled every time the lights caught the rhinestone jewelry adorned all over her neck.

"I'm okay, Mrs. Nakamoto, thank you for your concern." you faked a smile and responded with the lines you have rehearsed a hundred times in front of the mirror.

"Couples fight, that's normal. Fighting means you want to fix things." she said, looking at you. "Don't be too mad at him anymore. He loves you, you know."

You look at her, bewildered. "I don't quite under--"

"He spoke to the media and asked to give you privacy." she winked. "Oh to be young and in love. Makes you fearless, don't you think? The fans were not happy though. Have you seen it yet?" she asked pointedly when she saw your blank expression.

You had no idea what she was babbling about. It could be the wine, or probably some tabloid news she heard from the grapevine. You intend to correct this but as if Mrs. Nakamoto could read your mind, she interrupted your thoughts before you could open your mouth.

"He won't go far to scold his fans if he doesn't want to protect you and your relationship, you know." she winked and with that she floated away with her twinkling diamonds, leaving you utterly shocked. Scolded his fans? Since when did Shohei talk about his personal life in front of the press? Mrs. Nakamoto must've been mistaken. The world would be ending and he would only talk about baseball more than anything.

You tried following Mrs. Nakamoto but she had already disappeared into the crowd. Lars came into view, dimples on display and cheeks flushed from all the dancing, probably.

"Hey, sweet pea. Having fun on your own?" he asked.

"Just about to." you took a swig of your last champagne and dragged Lars into the dancefloor. He quickly noted the change of music and started dancing.

"I love this song!" you exclaimed as I Don't Wanna Dance With Somebody started playing in the background. You were swaying your hips and singing the song word by word, not a care in the world. For the first time tonight, were actually enjoying yourself.

It took 3 songs until Lars called timeout. His face flushed and sweaty from keeping up with you, almost heaving.

"Man, do you already have weak knees at that age?" you giggled and tried to hold on to him thinking he might suddenly collapse from exhaustion.

"I think I actually do, dude. I'll remember not to underestimate you on Just Dance." he was looking at something from behind you, as if looking for someone.

"If you want to sit down, we can sit down back there--"

The music switched up and suddenly a slow song started. Grow Old With Me by Tom Odell.

Lars took your hand and led you into the middle of the dancefloor. Unknowingly, you followed along. He might've already recovered and want to dance more. He is your partner in crime tonight, after all. Whatever confusing feelings you felt after talking to Mrs. Nakamoto earlier has been swept away from your mind. At least momentarily.

And then it happened too fast, you didn't have the time to process what was happening. One moment you were holding Lars' hand, now you're facing Shohei, his right hand slithered to your back, and the other on yours, leading the dance. He thanks Lars and Lars taps his back, retreating back into the dancefloor as if he nothing happened. Of course, he is also Shohei's best friend and wingman. Of course, he'd do this. He is definitely going to hear a lot from you once you get back at him.

Shohei pulls you harder to him, shaking your attention from Lars to him. Only him. He's looking at you and you're looking at him like it was a dream. Or a nightmare. You couldn't decide because his perfume invaded your system and is causing your mind to stop working.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"That dress is so revealing, Y/N." he finally said after a few moments.

"Wow. That's none of your business." You snapped, annoyed now. What a way to break the spell. "I didn't wear this for you."

"Hoping you could bring a date home tonight?" he said, voice low.

Oh, he did not. The worst thing he could do is provoke you on a night like this. Not when you're on the brink of alcohol intoxication. Your mouth runs everywhere when you're drunk.

"Why does that concern you? I can because I'm single anyway. You should try it too."

"Who said I was single?" Shohei looked pissed off now. As much as you want to escape, as someone with Scorpio rising, you just want to play with fire.

"Oh, you did you replace me with? Was it the Vogue Japan model? Or the badminton player during the gala?" you pushed.

The look on his face gave you chills on your bones. Oh, he was angry angry.

"I'm starting to think you believe what the tabloids wrote more than what I ever told you in the past."

"What did you ever tell me, Sho? I'm curious. I don't think I ever heard you say anything reassuring." You don't want to go through this anymore, no matter how pissed off you feel. You just want to go home and take a long warm bath while listening to your sad breakup playlist.

You let go of Shohei's hand and stopped dancing. You turned your heel and walked towards the exit, in the middle of the wedding band's rendition of Can't Help Falling In Love by Elvis Presley. 

At the corner of your eye, you saw Lars dancing and flirting with one of the bridesmaids. He noticed you but you waved him off, stopping him. If he was enjoying the night, you shouldn't drag him along with him. He has already done so much for you. You can handle this on your own tonight.

You shivered as soon as you stepped outside the hall. You let a light wind breeze through you as you walked around the garden path, lost in your own thoughts. You mentally smack yourself for forgetting to bring a coat again. It was a cold evening and you no longer have Shohei to keep you warm. And you were always so cold. You'll have to get used to bringing your own coats again. You, who has always been okay being alone pre-Shohei days, would have to wake up without his good morning texts again. Dining alone. Sleeping alone. Watching movies alone. 

Walking aimlessly in the garden, you remembered your conversation with Mrs. Nakamoto and fished your phone from your purse. You knew it was not a good idea to be watching his interview videos anymore but curiosity killed you. You googled his latest interview video and pressed play.

The interview started with the usual introductions and questions about baseball and his performance from the last game. He answered them attentively and politely. Then, a reporter suddenly asked him about you.

"Since you are attending Jessica Thuy's wedding next week, do you have plans on addressing if you and Y/N are gonna be endgame? Or has the fans scared her off already?" the reporters' laughter was heard on the recording. Ippei, who had been within shot the whole time, looked like he wanted Shohei to ignore the question but Shohei grunted and gave the cameras a sarcastic smile.

"I thank the fans for their constant support of my games and schedules. I'm grateful, really. But they don't have a say on who I fall in love with." The crowd went quiet, waiting for him to say more. He gave in and indeed more, much to their delight. "The woman I'm in love with is a very private person. It took me a long time to get to know her because she's always had her nose buried in a book. She gets super chatty when she talks about the things she is passionate about. She would not, for the life of me, stop talking about astrology. She once cried when she learned that Manatees are endangered species. She has a laugh that the fans commented negatively about. I find her laugh the most adorable thing I've ever heard and I don't want to live in a life where I don't hear it ever. I hope the fans respect that. Thank you." It was as if the wind was sucked by a vacuum and got sealed elsewhere. Even Ippei was speechless. He couldn't believe Shohei said that in front of the media. He was fighting for you. He finally set his boundaries.

He signaled the end of the interview and went out of frame just in time for the video to end.

You turned around to go back to the reception but saw Shohei standing behind you, his face glistened with a wistful expression. You stood there with tears in your eyes. That interview sounded like a confession of love and now you want to hear more.

"When you left I really thought you brought all the sunshine with you. Literally... It was always raining in our games." He said. "In my heart, too. It's true. I don't ever want to live in a life where I don't have you, Y/N."

"I figured the best way to get you back was this wedding, since you know, you've blocked me everywhere. You even told the receptionist in your apartment to never let me in." he pouted.

"And about that night... I was embarrassed because you said it first. I thought that when I'd finally say it, it would be after I plan the craziest, most beautiful date ever. You know, private restaurant reservation, red roses, fireworks, all the jazz. I wanted to give you that much." he chucked darkly to himself. "I know now that I have been the biggest asshole to let that moment slip away and let you go without bringing up a fight. I should have said it right then and there. Fireworks or no fireworks."

You went through a rollercoaster of emotions over his speech. After watching the video, you wanted to storm back to the reception and confront him, angry because it made you feel ashamed at what the both of you had to go through in the last couple of weeks. Now you just want to laugh out loud at how this has unfolded.

"Fireworks?" you squeaked, wiping tears that threatened to fall from the sides of your eyes.

"Well, they're a bit romantic...don't you think?" he said shyly, looking down. You finally burst in a loud, belly laugh.

"You idiot. Come here."

Shohei took huge strides to get to you, smiling widely. You forgot how much he towered over your small frame. You had to strain your neck to look up at him. "I hope it's not too late to say it. I don't have the fireworks though. I didn't get to plan if this cornering-you-in-the-wedding thing is going to work out... And as for the tabloids, I--"

You went on your tiptoes and pulled his face to yours. "Stop talking."

You gave him a light peck at first, testing the waters. He returned the kiss with more pressure, as if trying to catch up with lost time. He put his hands on your waist and pushed his body towards you with so much fervor. This time, his movements became needy, frantic even. As if any moment from now, you'd disappear again.

He held the nape of your neck and pulled you closer, opening your mouth with his tongue. He licked the insides of your mouth, making you shiver with pleasure. A moan escaped your lips and you held on to his shoulders tightly. Both of you are lost in the kiss, pulling and pushing each other's bodies like molding clay, hoping that after this, you come out as one body, one soul and one heart.

You only parted when you needed to breathe for air, foreheads touching. You're both needy now, desperate for more of his touch. Anywhere that he hasn't touched feels on fire. His hand wandered through your clothed chest and squeezed your breast tightly, earning another moan from you. You let your leg stroke his middle and felt him harden, all while your hands pinched his ass. He grunted a noise and gave you a hungry look. Anything that you've thought before this moment has been forgotten. You remembered how much you wanted this, how much you wanted him.

"I love you, Y/N. I'm sorry I took so long to say it." Shohei finally broke the kiss and looked at you. "Fuck, that feels so good. You don't know how happy I am that I could finally say that. I love you."

You too couldn't imagine a better moment for him to say it.

Fireworks or no fireworks.

[mariaxxxxx]

Chapter 5 - The pleasure and pain you offer me ( +18)

Summary: To save your nation You are given as a bride to a sea god.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY/ Minors DNI, Angust, Hurt comfort, Sex, Apologies, Crying, Creampie, Passionate sex, virgin!reader, size difference, smut, soft!dom!, HEA, somnophille, slight degradation, duvious consent, pregnancy, arranged marriage, inexperienced reader, abortion commented, unprotected sex (don't do that wrap this thing), kidnapping, aftercare, curse words.

A/N: English is not my mother tongue. I apologize for any errors.

A/N: Reader is heavily implied to be Mexican but i tried to keep it as free to the imagination as possible

A/N: Hi people! I hope you haven't abandoned me. I apologize for taking so long to post the new chapter. I underwent a medical procedure and am still in the recovery process.

Work count: 2.958

Serie materialist

🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊

You were taken to the hut where you first saw K'uk'ulkan. The man left her on the ground and walked away with impressive speed. You were still out of orbit when your maids surrounded you and began to take off your dress, jewelry and ornaments. Her hairstyle was undone leaving her hair loose. Her magnificent wedding dress was replaced by one in a light, semi-transparent fabric. With the work completed, your maids left with mischievous smiles on their lips, leaving you alone in the room.

You needed all your strength. Not physically, at least at that moment. But you had to gather all your courage and self-control during that time when you were alone in the cabin. After all, when K'uk'ulkan entered that environment, her current husband, would enjoy what was rightfully his; You. Your mother and priestesses had prepared you for this moment. They instructed him that the marriage bed could be good for both of them; You must please and be pleased too.

However, even with the instructions received, you still felt nervous, you had never even kissed a man and now you had to consummate the marriage. You knew that you would be naked in front of each other, you knew that it would touch you that he should enter You to plant his seed, and you still knew, from listening to one of the priestesses, that during the first time pain might arise. One of them told him, just before the procession, that a woman's first time hurt as much as burning her skin on a hot metal plate. Her mother scolded the priestess for uttering such foolish words, turned to You and said: “It is just a nuisance, my daughter, it will pass. How to thread a ball of yarn through the eye of a needle. It's a question of space.”

Your mother's words echoed through your mind making things even more confusing and frightening for You. To try to distract yourself, You observed for the first time, truly, the private environment that was your husband's and now hers. There were richly designed paintings on the walls, some still incomplete. You ran your fingertips between the images, admiring the lines and details. You found it in your own mind to ask what those drawings meant to the culture you now belonged to.

You were startled when you heard the sound of footsteps approaching. You turned around, watching your husband near the entrance. She was not as well dressed as before; his serpent-shaped ornament was taken off, as were his golden shoulder pads and bracelets and his cape. All that remained on her body were green shorts with white details.

“I apologize for this, my queen. Talokan may have harsh traditions for foreigners.”

"Everything is fine." You said as you clasped your hands in front of your body. “I don't know exactly what happened so I haven't had time to form any opinions about what it was all about.”

He found your answer funny and was ready to laugh, a lot.

“In Talokan, after the wedding, the bride and groom are undressed and taken to the wedding bed by their guests.”

“Oh!” the sound escaped his mouth. “Remind me to thank the man who brought me here safely. I wouldn’t feel comfortable being undressed in front of everyone.”

“I’ll thank him myself for not allowing anyone to undress her.”

“So...” You said, trying not to show your nervousness. “What do these paintings mean?”

“I made them myself.” He said looking at them with great pride. “They tell the story of my birth. It’s not complete yet.”

“I didn’t know my husband was such a talented artist.”

He let out a cute giggle and seemed to blush at his words. You thought his reaction to such a flippant compliment was funny.

“I appreciate the compliment.”

“I hope our children have your talent.” You blurted out.

“I hope they are as beautiful as their mother.” He is approaching You, like a serpent about to pounce on its prey, a hungry serpent before the most succulent bird. “You, my queen, are the most beautiful woman there is.”

“My husband didn’t pay close attention to the other women.” You said as you flinched slightly at his touch on your cheek.

“I never argue with myself, I know what I’m saying, I say that my wife is the most beautiful woman there is.” He whispered with the rest close to his, eliciting a smile from You.

“I appreciate the compliment, my husband.”

“It wasn’t a compliment.” He replied. “It's an observation” He starts a trail of kisses down your neck. “Come with me, my queen.”

K'uk'ulkan guided you to a part of the hut where there was a circular reed large enough to take up the entire space. You were surprised that the piece of furniture fit in a seemingly tight space. You could, one day, ask him how the architectural system of that place worked, but his thoughts were more interested in what he would do with You on the padded furniture.

"What should I do now?" You asked looking at him. His eyebrows arched into an expression of disbelief. You felt like an idiot in that moment for asking something so stupid.

“Anything my wife wants.” He said as he approached You. “Tell me what your heart desires.” He brought his face close to his, their lips almost touching.

You didn't know what your heart wanted, but your body demanded that man, needed him. You advanced on him, truly kissing him for the first time, it was awkward and awkward at first, but your husband was willing to guide you. When You finally got the hang of it, the kiss became pure desire and passion, much more than You could have expected.

K'uk'ulkan took you in his arms, without stopping to kiss you for a single moment on the way to the reeds, he put you on your feet and took off, or rather, tore off your dress, leaving you completely naked for the delight of his eyes. .

"So beautiful." He whispered as he ran his black eyes over her uncovered body.

His chin was pulled forward and your lips crashed against his once again. You returned the kiss in a few seconds. His tongue pushed her lips and they parted welcoming him very willingly. The hand that held his jaw snaked towards his and pulled you closer, deepening the kiss making your mind spin and your heart flutter. His hand grabbed his chest, searching for something to hold on to while the other was around his neck.

You gently pushed him away, panting; your eyes met his which sent goosebumps across your skin. His chest heaved, his eyelids trembled and his legs were as soft as leaves. K'uk'ulkan held You by the waist, preventing You from moving away from him. His lips didn't stay away from yours for long, they brushed against yours once again, causing waves of electricity to course through your body.

"Sweet." He murmured against your lips, opening his eyes. K'uk'ulkan seemed very happy to see his current state. He hovered over You with a beautiful smile pulled on his lips while yours could barely be felt. He slid his hand down her shoulders, his fingers caressing the soft skin.

You let out a startled cry as you fell backwards into the reeds with your husband hovering over you. He seemed happy with your reaction as the beaming smile never left him. Her husband bent down and ran his fingers over the space between her breasts, leaving a hot trail wherever he went.

“I will take good care of you, my love.” He spoke while leaning on his shins, placing himself between her legs. He kept his eyes fixed on hers as he held her foot with one hand and brushed his fingers against her belly. He was slow in his actions wanting You to feel all the pleasure he could provide. When K'uk'ulkan's fingers brushed against your intimacy You let out a sigh and a loud moan.

"My husband." You whispered, as your heart pounded in your chest. He laughed at the situation, he seemed to enjoy the way you looked miserable under his touches. He began to plant delicate kisses on your inner thigh, You shivered, and dug his fingers into the sheets beneath You.

“K’uk’ulkan… oh Gods!” You screamed when you felt tongue and lips on your pussy. You struggled as you felt the mix of strange but pleasurable reactions. K'uk'ulkan opened her legs even further and began to devour her pussy. You could feel the cool jade of his nose ornament brushing against your sensitive, wet flesh. In one quick movement he used his tongue to play with your entrance, the sudden action made your hips contract and you moved away. But before You could get anywhere he pulled You closer by your legs.

“Don’t walk away from me.” He said with a slight hint of irritation in his voice as he held your hips firmly.

“I’m sorry…” You spoke in a pathetic whisper. “I’m not going to walk away.”

“You are being sweet to me, my love. I appreciate that." He purred, his eyes fixed on yours. He dragged his lips along her skin and dove back into her pussy, which was getting wetter and wetter. You moaned and writhed at the explosion of pleasure that filled every cell in your body.

With his fingers digging into her hips, her husband dragged his tongue over and around her wet flesh. He ate You, caressing your sensitive pussy with his tongue tasting your sweetness. His hands slid into his black hair and his knees knocked against his body. A strange feeling slowly filled his body; first on the toes and went up with each stimulus.

“K'uk'ulkan...” You said urgently as the strange feeling seemed to grow more and more. “I...I...I think...” He ignored you and held your pussy even closer to his face. Licking, sucking with more desire.

One of his hands left her hips and pressed one of her breasts, squeezing and playing with the erect nipples. His tongue snaked around your pussy making you see stars. Her nails raked his scalp and her thighs squeezed her husband's broad shoulders. While his legs trembled, his heart jumped, his toes twitched and his fingers tightened on the sheets, K'uk'ulkan pulled with his lips a specific spot on her pussy, causing a violent result.

A scream of pleasure escaped your throat, heat coursed through your body trapping You in a world of wonder, your toes curled unable to hold steady and a wave of pure satisfaction filled every inch of your body. When the feeling went away, you were nothing more than a messy little thing staring at the cave ceiling. You were stuck in a trance of pleasure that you didn't feel your husband pulling out of your pussy. With the back of his hand he wiped the traces of pleasure from your mouth and beard, but he didn't do a good job: You got so wet that the remnants of your excitement remained in your beard.

With his eyes focused on her face, he ran his hand down her waist and across her ribs. The calloused palms felt his breasts and then the hands wandered to his neck. He held her jaw and gazed into her eyes, still clouded with pleasure.

“Ah my queen. My sweet and beautiful queen.” He said teasingly, a wicked smile stretched across her lips. You blushed at the words said and wondered how that man had so much power over you.

K'uk'ulkan stood back on his heels and removed the shorts he was wearing. You blushed violently and looked away when his waiting member became hard and rigid. He pushed his body until he was on top of you with his arms placed on either side of your head. He leaned in and pressed his lips against yours once more. He forced your lips apart and his tongue met his. He kissed you gently but intensely, teasing every corner of your lips until he kissed you more deeply.

His hips pressed against his as he began to rub his cock against her sensitive pussy. You sighed, separating your lips from his as his dick was pushed against his pussy. You moaned, your legs opening to have more of that contact, when you felt the head of his dick brush against a sensitive spot. Electricity shot up her spine at that action, but her mind was distracted by yet another voracious kiss from her husband. He bit your jaw, licked your chin with his tongue. You shivered in his arms from the excess stimulation on his body. You moaned his name more than once as he ground his hips into yours repeatedly.

You squirmed against his body, until your cheek was pressed against his, feeling his beard. He pressed his mouth once again against his as his hand roamed his body in gentle touches. He gently squeezed her breasts, passed her belly and guided it to the small space between her hips. Grasping the base of his cock, her husband ran the head up and down, and back again, up and down her pussy. His body shuddered against his and a huge gasp escaped You as he began to press against You.

His legs twitched trying to close before the intrusion. Sue's husband kept his knees open as he slowly entered You. When he was halfway in, You began to let out pained moans and whimpers at the opening his penis forced into his body. K'uk'ulkan muffled her sounds with gentle kisses to her lips.

“It’s okay, my love.” He murmured to You, gently. But You were convinced that he was too big for You. Your heart clenched in your chest and your belly twisted in pain when he was finally inside You. You felt his hips pressed against his. You can feel his member inside him, your breath caught in your throat. He risked a slow movement. You let out a loud moan, struggled, closing your eyes tightly and digging your nails into your husband's back. He let out a moan when he felt all of her heat envelop him.

“It hurts.” You said, trying to get rid of him on you and inside you.

“It will pass soon.” He warned as he gave another slow thrust. Even with all the lubrication present, the pain was unbearable; he was big and thick.

“Please...” You exclaimed, struggling beneath him. “It hurts.”

Without you noticing, a stubborn tear came out of your pupil and slid down your cheek. The discomfort was too much. The pain was too much. You had never felt such a sensation in your entire life. K'uk'ulkan guided his left hand over his face and wiped away the stubborn tear.

“I’ll stay put until you get used to it.” He whispered between moans and sighs.

You could feel your husband's hard cock inside you, still. It was a mixture of pressure and laceration. His lower abdomen burned with heat and heat. You looked at him bent over You, with his face pressed against your right shoulder letting out low moans. The pain didn't go away, it was as if the sensation was going to tear him in half. Her eyes closed, her fingers rubbed her nails hard across the entire length of his back.

His attention was diverted when he felt a hot liquid drip from his entrance. The curse had broken, as a trickle of blood ran down his thigh and dripped onto the sheets, a moan left his lips and echoed around you. It made you dizzy as the pain was replaced by a small tickle of something more welcoming that blossomed in your core as he remained in your torn canal.

“K'uk'ulkan...” He fixed his gaze with a sullen expression. “It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

His grimace was replaced by a wide smile. He brought his chest closer and removed his dick from her pussy. His lips exhaled a loud moan at the movement. A strange sensation surrounded his body that oscillated between pain, pleasure and fear.

He lowered his head and kissed you once again. He guided his cock into her pussy again, this time with one powerful thrust. He dragged his cock against her tight walls, pulling back only a fraction before repeating the thrusting motion. His face contorted with each thrust. His dick made sure you were full, feeling him touch your most sensitive spots. His eyes began to roll back, his eyelashes fluttering, as his legs began to shake with each hard thrust.

Her nails scratched his muscular back as a violent explosion of pleasure made it impossible to control her body hissing. You tightened your thighs around him as your walls clenched and rippled in that feeling of pleasure. K'uk'ulkan continued his thrusts, this time, chasing his own release.

Pleasure clouded your feelings as You felt the heat of your husband's seed being spilled deep inside You. His throat closed and You choked on the violent waves of electricity that coursed through his body. He left You filled with his hot seed, with eyes closed and limbs numb. At that moment it was as if the sun rose in the west and set in the east, the seas dried up and the mountains were blown by the wind like leaves.

[valiantstarlights]

[Wedding Planner AU] Part 3: Wedding Dress

Part 2: On the Restaurant's Balcony Area

I would like to thank @seiya-starsniper for reminding me about this AU, and making me realize that I had not, in fact, posted this chapter yet. 🙇‍♀️ It has literally been sitting (90% completed) in my labyrinth of notes since June 25. 😂

CW: just the usual 28 angsty stab wounds 😊

Being inside the Endless mansion is like being in a tomb.

Not that Hob has been to any tombs, since that would require a fuckton of money as well as the absence of common sense, but the air inside was noticeably heavier. No doubt the tangible weight of generations' worth of expectations and disappointments.

He remembers Dream not wanting to go back home for the holidays. How he took his sweet time packing, and even then he only packed light: a toothbrush bought from the convenience store near the dorms, a bottle of black nail polish, and snack sized chocolate bars enough to last him a month. He didn't take any of Hob's clothing with him, even though he wore them almost exclusively during the school year. He claimed that it was because they might get taken from him, but Hob suspected that it was because Dream had been ashamed of him.

Their eventual break up had proven him right.

"Mr. Gadling!"

Hob turns towards the pool area and spots Ms. Muse, wearing a bright yellow sundress and looking positively radiant. Meanwhile, Hob is a frazzled mess, having come straight from Constantine's main office all the way across London, making nonstop calls to catering companies in his car about the billion and one hors d'oeuvres Mrs. Muse and Mrs. Endless wanted.

"Ms. Muse," he greets amiably, and notices the distinct lack of her groom-to-be, as well as their overbearing mothers. "Is everyone else running late?"

"Oh, no," Ms. Muse says, and gestures to the comfortably padded wicker chair beside her. It seems that this meeting will be taking place in a less formal setting. Hob wonders if it is for his benefit or hers. Does he look as sleep-deprived as he felt? "Mother and Mrs. Endless are attending a soiree in Berlin, and Dream is working inside." She points to the side, where a dark figure is seated behind a desk, typing on his laptop, face set in concentration and earplugs in.

Hob remembers that face well. Dream is deep in 'the zone,' as they called it, back in the day. Hob remembers bringing him tea once in the early days, only to find it cold and untouched, and Dream apologetic afterwards. He had insisted on drinking the cold tea, but Hob took pity on him and drank the tea himself. After that incident, he would only make tea for Dream when he surfaces from his 'zone,' and it's a system that worked for them.

He wonders if Ms. Muse knows that, then mentally slaps himself. Of course she does. She's Dream's goddamn fiancee.

And more to the point, she would know Dream better than him, being in the same social class. They probably attended the same rich people parties all the time since they were kids.

Hob should just get this over with and leave. He still has more than three dozen calls he has to make before the end of the day, and an appearance to make at one of the junior wedding planners' small wedding receptions, to make sure that everything goes well, and to serve as back-up in case something goes wrong.

It's barely midday and he's already so fucking tired.

He takes out a stack of bridal magazines, since Ms. Muse expressed in her email that she prefers to flip through magazines rather than browse pinterest boards. Hob went the extra mile and got a couple of good vintage issues as well, in case she prefers the style of older gowns.

"Here," he says, and slides the stack towards the middle of the glass-topped wicker table between them. "Please feel free to browse and point out anything you like, even if it's just a color palette from a certain gown, the style of the lace, or the hairstyle of the model. We'll narrow down your choices later, and I will write and note down all your preferences. If you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask me."

Ms. Muse dimples at him and excitedly flips through the topmost magazine on the stack. "Thank you for doing this, Mr. Gadling," she says. "I know it's not easy, what with our mothers' extravagant ideas, but you still manage to do everything so well and so professionally. I'm glad you're our wedding planner."

"Of course," Hob says, returning her smile, but doesn't say anything more. Lord knows what would happen if he were to speak his mind and tell her that all he's thinking about lately is foisting off the Muse-Endless wedding to someone else, preferably to someone who doesn't have a romantic history with the groom-to-be.

--

Hob notices that Ms. Muse is different when her mother and Mrs. Endless are not around. She looks more at ease, and instead of holding herself up so rigidly, she was slouching a little, one elbow on the table and one leg tucked neatly underneath the other.

She has told Hob that she definitely wants to have a simple, Grecian style gown made with light fabrics, and maybe a short train. She wonders if she could have a wedding gown that ombres from white to a dark orange at the bottom, while her bridesmaids (Dream's sisters and her own), could wear sunset-colored gowns to a style of their choosing that would fit their body type well.

"Delirium would definitely want to wear something like this, but have it ombre from a dark pink at the top to white at the bottom," she says, pointing to a Cinderella-style gown.

"Is Ms. Delirium Endless your maid of honor?" Hob asks as he notes down the page where the Cinderella gown is located, as well as the title and the issue number of the magazine where Ms. Muse found it.

Ms. Muse nods absently, waiting for Hob to finish his notes before flipping the page. "We have been friends since we were toddlers. I remember getting into so much trouble when she dared me to dye my hair bright green."

Hob chuckles. "I'm sure you looked like a very beautiful forest nymph."

"That's certainly one way of looking at it," Ms. Muse says, smiling. "But now I hope to repay the favor by making Deli look like a very beautiful radish."

Hob hums and reviews his previous notes. "Seeing as all the gowns of the wedding party are to be sunset-themed, I'm sure your mothers wouldn't take issue with it, if that's something that you're worried about."

Ms. Muse sighs happily. "I'm so glad we see eye to eye, Mr. Gadling. Oh, but please don't tell anyone about the secret meaning of Deli's dress!"

Hob smiles at her, this beautiful woman with a sunny personality. No wonder Dream fell hard for her. "Your secret is safe with me, Ms. Muse."

--

They talk about colors and fabrics some more, as well as the style of wedding veil that would pair well with her wedding gown. Ms. Muse, Hob is coming to find, is a very reasonable woman, very much unlike her own mother.

He just knows that she will be a good wife to Dream.

Hob had just finished answering her question about the feasibility of long wedding veils at a beach wedding and how detailed their embroideries can be, when Dream comes out from his office space and walks up towards them.

"Dream!" Ms. Muse says cheerily. "Are you going to be joining us after all?"

Hob makes sure the lines of his body are relaxed as he writes some more detailed notes, so he has the excuse of not looking up and greeting Ms. Muse's groom-to-be.

"No," Dream says. "I'm just taking a short break to get some tea. I still have emails to reply to and a meeting to oversee."

Ms. Muse nods understandingly. They really are a good match. Were it Hob in her place, he would have pestered Dream to eat something as well, and maybe rest his eyes and mind and hands for at least ten minutes. He would have asked Dream to lie down on his lap and stroke his hair until he falls asleep, then wake him up with kisses once his low-volume alarm beeps.

No wonder Dream got tired of him.

"That's too bad," Ms. Muse says. "But no worries! I'm having fun looking through the bridal magazines Mr. Gadling brought. Maybe we could even decide on what flowers to put in the wedding bouquet today."

"Sounds wonderful," Dream says, and he does sound like he means it. Hob wishes he could excuse himself without drawing any attention. He's sure Dream wouldn't even notice or care if he disappeared, but it would be rude to Ms. Muse if he just left.

Maybe he should just leave anyway so the bride and groom could have some time for themselves. Let them unwind for a bit and openly show each other affection without an unwanted audience.

"It is," Ms. Muse says brightly. "I was nervous because the task seemed daunting, but Mr. Gadling has been super helpful. He really knows his stuff, and he listens well and is very kind."

A pause. "He is," Dream says, and there's something in his voice that sounds unsure and vulnerable and maybe even a little hopeful. Hob quickly squashes that treacherous thought. Dream is about to get married. He would do well to remember that.

"Oh, hold on," Ms. Muse says, standing up. "Let me ring someone for tea. We could all use some, anyway."

She walks away, her yellow sundress waving like a flag behind her.

Hob does not have to look at Dream to know that he is staring after her.

Hob says nothing. He has nothing to say. Not now, when he is just the help.

"Thank you for assisting Calliope," Dream tells him, when Ms. Muse has disappeared from view.

"Of course, sir," Hob tells his notes, his tone bland and professional. "It's what I'm here for, you know. Gotta be helpful somehow or I'm gonna get fired."

The last part comes out bitter, and Hob doesn't know why he thought to say that. He should have just stopped talking after the first sentence and left Dream to navigate the awkward silence alone.

"Our mothers wouldn't dare to fire you," Dream says quietly. Gently. Hob grits his teeth as subtly as he could. "You are the best in your field. They would be hard-pressed to find someone better."

"Oh, I don't know about that, Mr. Endless," Hob says airily, and this time he looks straight at Dream when he says it. Dream looks taken aback when their eyes meet. Hob wonders if he could see the pain of the last ten, fifteen years in Hob's eyes. Hob hopes he does. Hob hopes he feels every last fucking glass shard buried in Hob's heart, still bleeding to this day. "I'm sure they would immediately find someone better to replace me with."

Dream looks like Hob just slapped him.

For a moment, there is pure devastation on his beautiful face. Lips slightly parted as if feeling the need to explain, eyes wide and wet, brows furrowed in hurt.

Hob has never seen him look like this before. They had never argued badly enough in the past to the point where Dream would be brought to tears.

Hob almost stands. Almost reaches for Dream to hold him in his arms, and allow him to hide his face against his neck while Hob pets his hair softly and soothingly, shushing him and murmuring against his ear that he doesn't mean it. That he's just hurt. That the last thing he wants is to hurt Dream.

But before Hob could do anything, decide whether or not to comfort the lost love of his life, Dream's mask reforms, and between one blink and the next, he is once again the picture of neutrality. "As you say, Mr. Gadling."

Hob opens his mouth. To apologize, perhaps, or to ask Dream how long it took him to move on.

'How long before you and Ms. Muse got together after we broke up?'

'How long before I'm only just another bad memory from the past?'

'How long did you really love me?'

'Were you actually in love with me, or was I just another way for you to rebel against your parents?'

He closes his mouth and says nothing. And for a few moments, he and Dream just looked at each other, Hob cataloguing all the ways Dream is still the same, wondering if he could have maybe done something differently that would have made Dream stay with him. Or maybe their relationship has always been destined to fail. They come from different backgrounds, after all, and Hob should have known to listen to fairytales.

Princes do not end up with paupers. They end up with beautiful princesses and live their lives happily ever after.

The only indicator of Dream's tumultuous thoughts is him raising his hand and almost unconsciously fidgeting with the ruby pendant of his necklace.

As soon as Hob's eyes drop to it, though, Dream stops entirely and places his hands on his sides, like nothing happened.

They were startled out of their silent staring when the door to the side opens, and Ms. Muse comes out like she brought the sun with her, as well as a fancy metal tea tray with three cups and a kettle that would not be out of place in 18th century Versailles.

"Mrs. Jones would be by in a bit with afternoon tea snacks," Ms. Muse says, just as Hob rises from his seat to take her burden from her. "Oh, thank you, Mr. Gadling. See how kind he is, Dream?"

"I have to return to my work," Dream says, and plucks the black teacup and its accompanying saucer right out of the tray that Hob is still holding.

Like Hob is just another goddamn servant employed by the Endless.

Then again, Hob thinks sardonically, that's exactly what he is, isn't he?

It's actually so nice to finally see that this is how Dream really sees him. Now Hob won't have to guess just what he is to him. What he always was.

Ms. Muse shrugs. "Sure. But don't work too hard, okay? Death will have my head if she finds out you're not taking proper breaks."

Dream visibly softens at the mention of his favorite sister. "Of course. I will see you later, Calliope." A colder glance at Hob. "Mr. Gadling."

Hob fights the urge not to bow mockingly. He settles for his default professional mode. Dream has just shown him where his proper place is, and Hob would do well to stay in it. "Mr. Endless."

Without another word, or indeed, another glance at Hob, Dream turns and walks away.

[skippyv20]

Is the

@Telegraph

transition into OK magazine complete? Was this (lengthy) article part of a package deal? From the leaked letters saga to this?

My advice Don‘t bother reading. Nauseating sycophancy. Yards of it

Telegraph 

The meaning behind Meghan’s Montecito makeover

The Duchess of Sussex’s newly straightened and lightened hairstyle is a polished power move

ByAnnabel Jones,

 BEAUTY EDITOR AT LARGE24 April 2023 • 8:00pm

 anyone who knows the power of beauty to send a subliminal message, it’s Meghan, the Duchess of Sussex. 

In her first public appearance since news broke that Prince Harry would be attending the King’s Coronation alone, Meghan debuted a newly straightened and lightened hairstyle set off with a flawless, glowing and minimally made-up complexion to introduce her friend and photographer Misan Harriman’s Ted Talk. 

Meghan said in her video message: “Our next speaker has an unmatched eye for a good photograph. I have experienced his talent first hand as he has captured many meaningful milestones for me and my family.”

Such milestones have so often been accompanied by a pivotal hair moment in her journey from actress to Duchess and now hopeful global power player, whether it’s breaking from royal tradition with her trademark “messy bun” on her wedding day, the sombre-yet-sleek scraped-back bun worn throughout her and Harry’s ill-fated South African Tour to the ultra-groomed hair and fresh skin she unveiled yesterday. 

Sombre yet sleek: the Duchess pulled back her locks during her and Harry’s ill-fated South African tour CREDIT: Getty

In the new video, Meghan appears to have coloured her hair a warm copper tone and it has been styled to be poker straight with soft, feathered layers which give shape and structure to her face. 

Meanwhile, her skin looks glowing, youthful and immaculate. It’s hard to be sure that Meghan has coloured her dark brown hair, as video lighting can cast a warm glow onto skin and hair, but Meghan’s apparent highlights give off a sunkissed effect that speak to the couple’s new life in sunny Santa Barbara.

To the untrained eye, the Duchess’s hair length (uber long) and texture (super straight) isn’t drastically different from her usual style, but she has a history of subtly changing her hair and makeup to make a statement at key moments. 

Since settling in Montecito, the Duchess has gradually shaken off her British regal style in favour of a minimal polished look that befits her new situation as a working mother of two and co-founder of non-profit foundation Archewell, which she runs with the Duke. 

Her new look alludes to the Gywneth Paltrow, polished chief executive school of thought rather than the beachy Californian look she adopted when she first moved back to the West Coast.  

Over the years, Meghan’s hair has evolved from the relaxed, laidback waves and barely there make-up she chose as an off-duty actress and during her courtship with Harry, to a more carefully thought-out part of her image which has switched-up as her role and circumstances have changed. 

Meghan’s trademark ‘messy bun’ while she was a working member of the Royal family CREDIT: Getty

Meghan’s new grown-up locks and understated Brandon Maxwell sheath dress depict a more discerning, power-dressing Duchess than the one who hid behind the two wispy tendrils that deliberately fell from her bun as a working member of the Royal family. It was a strategic style move that made her a relatable figure in a family steeped in tradition. 

“When we were preparing looks for life in the Royal family, as you’d expect, everything is structured, you can’t push the boundaries,” George Northwood, who spent two years tending to Meghan’s hair during her time in the UK, and who styled her hair for the evening of her wedding, told The Telegraph in

“And so, during our time together, we decided to create a more undone look to balance out the formal dress code, often including soft tendrils that ultimately became her signature messy bun.”

In July 2020, shortly after the royal couple stepped back from senior duties, the Duchess appeared on video for the Girl Up Leadership Summit with a similar hairstyle which Northwood said at the time represented “strength and a sense that she’s got everything sorted” adding that her straighter, longer hairstyle marked “a new chapter in her life without such strict protocols”. 

As for her glowing skin, Meghan has visited celebrity facialist Sarah Chapman over the years. For the Platinum Jubilee last year, Chapman told People magazine that she used products including vitamin C, hyaluronic acid, a hydrating booster and pep 8 (peptide) serum on the Duchess. 

Advertisement

“With Meghan, I wanted her beauty to shine at the events, so lots of hydration, oils and massage achieve that, and I also use an LED light treatment,” she told the US publication. 

Whatever the reason behind Meghan’s decision to reveal her glossy new makeover, the message is clear – this is a woman firmly in control of her own narrative. 

A timeline of Meghan’s hairvolution

Young Hollywood ingénue 

September 5, 2006

Big, voluminous curls were her style du jour when she was a briefcase model on Deal or No Deal CREDIT: Getty

Relaxed girlfriend

September 25, 2017

Meghan cut a casual figure in the early days of her relationship with Prince Harry CREDIT: Getty

Engagement blow dry

November 27, 2017

Meghan looked primed for the occasion when her engagement to Prince Harry was announced CREDIT: Getty

Wedding messy bun

May 19, 2018

Harry helps his new bride into the car as they leave Windsor Castle to head to their wedding reception CREDIT: Getty

Regal waves

June 9, 2018

Meghan during Trooping The Colour in summer 2018 CREDIT: Getty

On tour tendrils

October 24, 2018

Meghan opted for a relaxed approach during a tea reception in Suva, Fiji CREDIT: Getty

Sleek working Royal

September 25, 2019

Meghan during a visit to meet female entrepreneurs in Cape Town CREDIT: Getty

Sparkling departure

March 7, 2020

With Harry at the Mountbatten Music Festival at the Royal Albert Hall in 2020 CREDIT: Getty

The revenge updo

March 7, 2021

With Prince Harry during the now-infamous interview with Oprah Winfrey CREDIT: Reuters

Power chignon

December 6, 2022

In New York for the Ripple Awards in December 2022 CREDIT: Getty

All I can say is…trash be trash be trash be trash…🐼 thank you!

[garybrower]

The Timeless Elegance of Wedding Jewelry: A Guide to Choosing the Perfect Pieces

When it comes to weddings, every detail matters, from the dress to the decorations to the vows exchanged. Among these details, wedding jewelry holds a special significance. It not only adds a touch of glamour and elegance but also serves as a symbol of love and commitment. From sparkling engagement rings to delicate earrings, each piece plays a vital role in completing the bridal ensemble. Let's explore the timeless elegance of wedding jewelry and how to choose the perfect pieces for your special day.

One of the most iconic symbols of love and commitment is the engagement ring. Traditionally featuring a dazzling diamond, engagement rings come in various styles and designs to suit every taste and preference. From classic solitaires to vintage-inspired settings, there's a ring to capture the essence of your love story. When choosing an engagement ring, consider factors such as the cut, clarity, and carat weight of the diamond, as well as the metal of the band. Whether it's a timeless platinum setting or a romantic rose gold band, the right ring will symbolize your love for years to come.

As the wedding day approaches, attention turns to selecting the perfect accessories to complement the bridal gown. From necklaces to bracelets to earrings, wedding jewelry adds a touch of sparkle and sophistication to the bride's ensemble. When choosing wedding jewelry, it's essential to consider the neckline and style of the dress. For example, a strapless gown pairs beautifully with a statement necklace, while a delicate pendant complements a V-neck or sweetheart neckline. Similarly, the style of the earrings should complement the hairstyle and overall look. Whether you prefer classic pearls, sparkling diamonds, or colorful gemstones, choose pieces that reflect your personal style and enhance your natural beauty.

In addition to the bride's jewelry, wedding parties often include accessories for bridesmaids, groomsmen, and other members of the bridal party. Bridesmaid jewelry, such as matching necklaces or earrings, adds a cohesive touch to the bridal party's attire and makes for thoughtful gifts to commemorate the occasion. Similarly, groomsmen can accessorize with cufflinks, tie bars, or watches that complement the wedding theme and color scheme. By coordinating the accessories of the bridal party, you can create a cohesive and stylish look that enhances the overall aesthetic of the wedding.

Beyond the bridal party, wedding jewelry also holds significance for family members and guests. Mothers of the bride and groom often wear special pieces of jewelry to commemorate the occasion, such as heirloom brooches or sentimental bracelets. Guests may also accessorize their attire with elegant jewelry that reflects the formality and style of the wedding. From dainty earrings to bold statement pieces, wedding jewelry allows guests to express their individual style while celebrating the joyous occasion.

In conclusion, wedding jewelry plays a vital role in creating a memorable and elegant bridal ensemble. From the engagement ring to the bridal accessories, each piece symbolizes love, commitment, and celebration. When choosing wedding jewelry, consider factors such as style, neckline, and personal preference to find the perfect pieces for your special day. Whether classic or contemporary, subtle or statement-making, the right jewelry will add a touch of glamour and sophistication to your wedding day look, creating memories that will last a lifetime.

[raksha-bhediya]

Raksha Nithya Bhediya – Character Sheet

moon, a hole of light / through the big top tent up high / here before and after me / shinin' down on me / moon, tell me if i could / send up my heart to you? / so, when i die, which i must do / could it shine down here with you?

'cause my love is mine, all mine / i love mine, mine, mine / nothing in the world belongs to me / but my love mine, all mine, all mine

Archetype — The Mother Birthday — July 13, 1991 Zodiac Sign — Leo rising, Sun in Cancer, Moon in Leo MBTI — ESFJ Enneagram — Type 6: the Loyalist Temperament — Choleric Moral Alignment — Neutral Good Primary Vice — Pride Primary Virtue — Charity Element — Fire

Overview

Mother — Rupa Trivedi Father — Rakesh Trivedi Mother’s Occupation — Librarian // Leader of the Trivedi Pack Father’s Occupation — Banker Family Finances — Wealthy Birth Order — Youngest Brothers — Aarav (eldest brother) (b. 1985-2021), Viraj (older brother) (b. 1987-2021 (presumed dead)), Suraj (older brother) (b. 1989-2021 (presumed dead)) Sisters — None Other Close Family — her HUSBAND Rama Bhediya (d. 2021, presumed), Fatima (SIL, married to Aarav (d. 2021, presumed), Samira (SIL, married to Suraj (d. 2021, presumed), Nieces: Deepti (2012-2021 deceased) Nephews: Balaram (2015-2021 presumed dead), Vikram (2015-2021 presumed dead), Kumar (2018-2021 presumed dead) Best Friend — Fatima Enemies — The people who killed her family for ONE Pets — N/A Home Life During Childhood — Had three brothers who were very overprotective, had a lovely little life and was a spoiled princess who got anything she wanted. <3  Town or City Name(s) — Almora, India -- born and raised! What Did His or Her Bedroom Look Like — Lovely big window that looked out over the window, a large antique armoire painted white that she used to sit at for hours. They lived just out of the main city in a big old house with a few acres of beautiful land.  Any Sports or Clubs — None really Favorite Toy or Game — Anything that involves strategy  Schooling — PhD from Himgiri Zee University in Biochemical and Environmental Engineering Favorite Subject — Science Popular or Loner — Popularrr Nationality — Indian Culture — Hindu Religion and beliefs — Hindu

Physical Appearance

Face Claim — Simone Ashley Complexion — Dark brown, smooth skin Hair Colour — Black Eye Colour — Deep, dark brown Height — 5’8 Build — Lithe but smooth curves Tattoos — None Piercings — Earrings, nose Common Hairstyle — Usually back in a sensible bun or ponytail Clothing Style — Modern, professional Mannerisms — Reserved Usual Expression — 

Health

Overall (do they get sick easily)? — Werewolf genes on point! She hardly ever even gets the sniffles. Physical Ailments — None Neurological Conditions — Depression  Allergies — None Grooming Habits — Very good.  Sleeping Habits — Not great these days, lots of nightmares Eating Habits — Not eating as much as she should probably Exercise Habits — Goes for a run every morning and every evening Emotional Stability — Outwardly? Great. Inwardly? Not great! Body Temperature — Higher than average, on account of the werewolfness.  Sociability — Every extroverted usually, a little more reserved these days Addictions — None Drug Use — None Alcohol Use — Occasional drink, but does not get drunk

Your Character’s Character

Bad Habits — Chews on nails when anxious, can be snappy and short Good Habits — Very organized, being a good mama Best Characteristic — Self-confidence Worst Characteristic — Defensive  Worst Memory — When her whole family was massacred yeah Best Memory — The birth of her children, her wedding day <3 Proud of — Her family, her degree Embarrassed by — Not much Driving Style — N/A Strong Points — Sure, confident, nurturing  Weakness — Being scared Fears — Someone attacking her family again Phobias — None, she’s a brave girl Secrets — That she is a wolf Regrets — Not saving more of her family Feels Vulnerable When — Her wolf is showing lol Pet Peeves — People who don’t have self-esteem Conflicts — Wanting to save Dhaumya v not wanting to be exposed as a wolf  Motivation — Keeping Dhaumya safe Short Term Goals and Hopes — Keeping Dhaumya safe Long Term Goals and Hopes — Finding out what happened to her family Sexuality — Bisexual Day or Night Person — Night Introvert or Extrovert — Extrovert Optimist or Pessimist — Pessimist  Greatest Want — To help her family Greatest Need — To help her family

[shaadiwish]

Dearest mommies of the bride and groom, we finally have something that will gather your interest! While there are tons of style & hairstyle inspirations for brides, ShaadiWish is here with some fab hairstyles for the mother of the bride & groom.

[dragonfly92]

OLD FAMILY FRIENDS CHAPTER NINE

It was now the day of Melissa and Lonny's wedding day of course all the girls stayed with Mel at the hotel which wasn't that far from the venue, the guys was in the same hotel but on the other side so that neither of the bride or groom could see each other as it was traditional for the bride and groom not to see each other on the day of their wedding, Sarah was the one in charge of doing her sister's make up which she did perfectly surprisingly Mel wasn't a bridezilla she was pretty chilled out which was so much better for everyone mostly the girls though Mel had decided to go for different bridesmaid dresses and also Sarah's dress was different but all the focus would remain on the bride and groom as it was their special day.

Whilst the rest of the girls was getting ready Sarah was now doing Mel's hair which again she did an amazing job, once she was done Mel speaks up saying, "Thank you sis you've been a big help I honestly wouldn't know what to do without you here now I think it's time for you to go and get into your dress the wedding starts in 2 hours, plus got to get me in my dress afterwards also just so you know I love you so much never forget that." Sarah smiles trying her hardest not to cry and speaks up saying, "Well I am just happy that you're happy and I'm sure Jacob and Nick will feel the exact same way so will Dad and yeah I probably should you know I take forever to get ready and I love you too always will."

So whilst Sarah went and got herself ready their mom had joined Mel at her side trying her hardest not to get emotional as well she speaks up saying, "Oh sweetheart you look beautiful Sarah did an amazing Job once Lonny sees you he's gonna not hold it together me and your dad are both so proud of you right now we just can't wait for you two to get married and for him to be our son in law, because he treats you like a Queen and that is how a woman should be treated." Mel smiles saying, "Thank you mom yeah she did, I love it and I hope he doesn't I'm just relieved that you actually love him not gonna lie was a little worried when he first met you guys and he does treat Sarah like a baby sister as well which means so much to me."

Half an hour later all the girls was now in their dresses which of course included the bride there was a knock at the door Sarah was the one closer to the door so she went to answer not fully just encase it was Lonny but luckily enough it was just her dad so she fully opened the door and he walks in with a grin on his face, Sarah closes the door behind her and turns around their father speaks up saying, "Wow don't my girls look beautiful and all grown up, seems like yesterday you was both walking around wearing your mother's shoes obviously both young so neither of your feet could fit."

MELISSA'S WEDDING DRESS 

SARAH'S MAID OF HONOUR DRESS, SHOES AND HAIRSTYLE

HARPER'S BRIDESMAID DRESS AND HAIRSTYLE

ROSE'S BRIDESMAID DRESS AND HAIRSTYLE

HANNAH'S BRIDESMAID DRESS AND HAIRSTYLE

JESSICA'S BRIDESMAID DRESS AND HAIRSTYLE - CLUTCH NOT INCLUDED 

LONNY'S GROOM'S OUTFIT

GROOMSMENS - CC, JINXX, JAKE, NICK AND JACOB - BESTMAN ANDY SUIT

MAISIE'S FLOWER GIRL OUTFIT - AMY AND NICK'S DAUGHTER

They talked for a little while longer then it was finally time for Mel and Lonny to get married there was no more knocks on the door, Mel looked beautiful in her wedding dress her dad opens the door of course the girls left first followed by Mel and Sarah's Mom Janet then it was Mel herself followed closely by Mel and Sarah's father Neil, he closes the door behind him and they all head downstairs to the venue where all the guests was waiting in their seats Lonny had already gone ahead and was waiting for his soon to be wife at the altar, the rest of the guys was waiting patiently for the girls who was now downstairs when each of the guys saw the girls they of course compliment them.

When Andy sees Sarah he has a smile on his face saying to her, "Wow you look beautiful." She smiles at him saying, "Thanks and you look handsome hows Lonny doing?" Andy speaks up saying, "Well thank you and he's a mixture of excited and nervous at the same time so ready to go seeing as we're first to walk down the aisle?" Sarah speaks up saying, "Yeah I am also I have a feeling that Lonny's gonna be emotional once he sees Mel." He laughs a little saying, "Yeah I have the same feeling." She links arms with Andy the doors open, music starts playing and they start walking down the aisle of course everyone was watching all probably thinking that they would make a cute couple.

Then it was followed by Joe and Harper, then it was Rose and Jinxx, then it was Hannah and CC, followed by Jessica and Jake last but not least was Jacob with Janet but he honestly didn't mind he loves their mom to pieces then once each couple had gotten to the front separated girls onto the left whilst the guys onto the right when it came to Jacob and his mom he helped sit her down and then he joined the guys, finally everyone stood up as Melissa and her father started walking down the Aisle and as soon as Lonny sees his soon to be wife he can't hide his emotions and starts getting emotional of course Andy was next to him giving him a tissue which he accepts and thanks him for it.

Once Mel was at the altar Neil gives her to Lonny after the priest asks, "Who gives this woman to this man?" Afterwards he joined his wife sitting down who was already emotional of course it was happy tears, then it started whilst it was going Sarah was holding Lonny's ring whilst Andy was holding Melissa wedding ring they couldn't stop looking at each other smiling but then would turn their attention back to the wedding, the photographer of course was recording the whole thing even when they both looked at each other Sarah's mom notices smiling thinking and hoping that they would eventually get together it's clear that their love each other.

It was now time for the exchanging of rings so Melissa turns to Sarah who hands her his wedding band and Lonny does the same, then they turn their attention back to each other and starts saying their vows which they had both written their own and then their exchanged rings, the priest speaks up saying, "Now I pronounce you husband and wife you may now kiss your bride." He does and everyone starts cheering and clapping the kiss only last a few seconds and then they both turn to their families and friends starting to walk down the aisle everyone had now stood up, continued clapping and cheering then it was the maid of honour and Bestman, followed by each of the bridesmaid and groomsmen everyone started headed to the reception, where the fun could beginning. 

[pallavimekup97]

Brushstrokes of Transformation: The Breathtaking Journey Of Our Clients

Today, your smokey dramatic eye and perfect finish makeup tell the whole story about you. Every step that she approaches towards the stage melts the hearts of the people sitting around. That is the power of makeup—it draws attention to you and brings out the real you. The finest makeup artist, Pallavi, has been working in this industry for so long, collaborated with several customers, and unleashed creativity through her makeup art. From the South Indian look and party makeup look to the bridal makeup look, she excels in all types of makeup. Today we are sharing the beautiful transformational journey of ladies who have created a marvelous appearance at their special events.

Shivani 

The traditional dance of Koli, Powada, and Lavana to the mild and spicy dishes always captures attention. In this state of India, we have received an invitation from a beautiful couple who are going to tie the knot of lifelong togetherness. The bride’s name is Shivani, and she is willing to look beautiful with her wedding makeup based on Maharashtrian culture. The journey from being an independent lady to supporting women is going this way.

To capture the attention of the audience, we have draped the beautiful and traditional Navratri saree to complement her vidhi look. The flawless airbrush makeup, mermaid bun hairstyle, and sophisticated jewelry turned the heads of viewers toward the bride all the time. Pallavi has traveled to places worldwide, and she is aware of the culture and tradition of the Maharashtra region and how to complement the makeup to uplift the beauty of the bride and groom. After getting marvelous compliments for her picture-perfect look, she is now ready to embark on life’s beautiful journey as a wife.

Pranali

I’m introducing another Maharashtrian beauty today, and her name is Pranali. The beauty of transformation through the excellent art of makeup she has experienced in her marriage The timeless elegance of her mother’s jewelry represents the beauty of culture and the blessing of the elders. This could be a heart-touching and overwhelming moment to have the gift of ancestors passed down to the next generation. The vibrant red navratri saree when draped, sophisticated jewelry, and the graceful art of HD makeup enhance the overall appearance of the bride. The blossom of rose and gypsum in her hairdo is spreading all around and creating an enchanting experience. From her vidhi event to the sangeet and reception, makeup artist Pallavi has beautifully done her makeup and hair and personifies grace. Now is the time to celebrate the beat of love and lifetime togetherness with the makeup art of gorgeous beauty.

Samiksha 

Along with her brother, who is going to be a groom, her sister also desires to gain attention for being a groom’s sister. She also needs to be another showstopper at her brother’s wedding event. Samiksha is a beautiful groom’s sister and wishes to rock the sangeet night with her friends at the event. To add elegance to her appearance, the dewy HD look and her charming smile capture the heart of the viewer. The graceful attire from Kalki Fashion stunned the viewer, and the beautiful finishing of her makeup made her completely rock the stage in the night.

Megha 

Her charming and beautiful appearance is what every young lady dreams of; she is filled with emotions and confidence when she looks stunning in the mirror. From daily wear to special events like marriage, she is always ready to make a marvelous appearance to get compliments. Another stunner client is Megha, and her perfect HD makeup look, smokey eye makeup, and sophisticated jewelry set have turned heads on her special occasion. The right makeup techniques from a professional makeup artist always uplift the appearance and confidence of an individual. With her breathtaking appearance, now she can unleash the glamor, and become a showstopper. 

Wrapping Up!

With the right professional makeup artist in Pune, you can minimize the imperfections and awe the perfections. But this is required to get a perfect match between the customer and the makeup artist to get a compliment like a queen. When you both feel comfortable with each other, she can assist you better in bringing out your true personality through her makeup art. From all across the corner of India, today Pallavi, a makeup artist in Pune, is transforming the appearance of several women. In this way, she can inspire the women and girls around her to embrace their own strength and self-assurance. From a perfect dewy finish look for your cocktail party to bridal makeup, now every woman is ready to have a grand entry experience like a queen on their special occasion. So if you are ready to cover the miles for perfection in appearance, then Pallavi makeup artist is a stop destination for you.

[princessroyal95]

This is love (Charlotte Katakuri x Hirawashi Len) [English version]

Summary

Who can love a monster like Charlotte Katakuri? He is the son of Charlotte Linlin, known as Big Mom, and the question of the second eldest child in the family is who could love someone like him.

The idea of him falls apart when he meets a somewhat tsundere girl, but with a heart of gold that will make the commander fall in love.

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Warning: This chapter contains sexual content. If you do not like this kind of content, please do not continue reading, even if it means that you will lose important information from the story that will be important for future chapters.

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Chapter XVII

And the day came. Today was the wedding day. All the guests were anxious to see the future couple. How the relationship between the two would be from now on. They are expectant. And even Katakuri's brothers are talking to the people to keep them quiet. Big Mom already wanted to taste the big cake that the chefs have prepared.

Poor Len kept fiddling with the dress and even Brûlée stopped her by lightly slapping her hands. She puffed out her cheeks in annoyance. In truth, everything was uncomfortable for her, even the hairstyle Pudding had done for her. She wasn't used to these things and didn't know how to react. She was really afraid, little by little. She is sure that Katakuri will do well. And one important thing: who will be her escort to the altar?

As if her thoughts were heard, someone knocks on the door where Galette opens it for Perospero.

"I've come for the bride."

"Is Katakuri already at the altar?"

"And very anxious," he replies, "it's the first time I've ever seen him a bit nervous.

"It's normal, he's marrying Len," Smoothie laughs, already putting the finishing touches on the girl.

"Now! Leave me alone." She was already tired.

"Oh, come on, there's only one thing missing." Smoothie finishes painting the girl's lips. "Ready!"

"Great! Come on, before the groom gets something."

And speaking of the King of Rome, he shuffles his feet a little uneasily under the attentive gaze of all those people his mother invited. The truth is that he has gone overboard compared to the weddings of his sister Praline and Chiffon. Of course, he's an important commander and feared by the entire Marine Corps, and that's to be expected. From time to time, he glances at his twin brothers who were standing next to him in case something happened.

He clears his throat a little, feeling a little dry. Ah, his scarf was present in all this mess.

And the music starts to play, signalling that the bride was already here. Katakuri gulps, ready for what was to come. He turns his body slowly and his eyes are fixed on Len. He has never seen her in that outfit and she looked really beautiful in it. And so made up. Everything about her looked the most beautiful to him. For her part, Len was impressed that Katakuri was dressed in that fancy outfit. He didn't look like himself minus the scarf. She laughs inwardly knowing that Katakuri won't change.

Once at the altar, Perospero withdraws, leaving the two bride and groom with the priest. They look into each other's eyes for a few seconds and then look at the priest who is about to say his prayers. Linlin was bored by this part, he just wished he would get to the part where the bride and groom had to kiss and that was it, and eat that cake that was calling out to him.

"Now, you have to say your prayers."

Katakuri's little sister walks over to where they are standing to hand her the wedding rings. They both take each one, about to say their prayers.

"I, Charlotte Katakuri, take you, Hirawashi Len, to be my wife. I promise to be faithful to you in good times and bad, in sickness and in health. To love and respect you all the days of my life." With that phrase he places the ring on her.

Len can't help but smile and makes the same gesture.

"I, Hirawashi Len, take you, Charlotte Katakuri, to be my husband. I promise to be faithful to you in good times and bad, in sickness and in health. To love and to cherish you all the days of my life."

"With this I declare that you are both joined in marriage. I pronounce you man and wife," the priest prays, receiving a murderous look from Big Mom wanting him to finish. "You may kiss the bride."

Here's a severe problem, will Katakuri be able to take off that scarf? Len, for her part, forces the man to bend down and give her a kiss on the cheek as a sign that they are now joined as a married couple. They receive applause and shouts from the crowd, thus ending the wedding; although the party was still to come, and that was the fun part. The commander, without even thinking about it, takes Len in his arms, wanting to keep her close to him and no one else, to everyone's surprise.

That girl has softened the heart of that cold and reckless man to anyone's eyes. But Len is also dangerous when she wants to be. They both know how to control each other's fury. They know their own weaknesses and it was clear that Katakuri already has a new weakness. Losing Len forever. He rests his head on her arm, purring slowly as if he were a simple cat. A tender smile tugged at Len's lips as she stroked his head. He was completely submissive, that commander.

Oh, and Big Mom squeals with delight as she has the big cake in front of her. It wouldn't be a wedding without it. Everyone was dancing to the music while those two were at their leisure. Usually the guests came over to congratulate them on their marriage. Katakuri doesn't usually talk much; however, this is different with Len. The girl was trying her best to hold some kind of conversation with the people. But those hands caressing hers were a bit distracting.

She knows that Katakuri wants his now wife's attention and not just talking to the guests. She is supposed to be all his after this event. By the way, he doesn't know where their honeymoon will be or if they have one. Katakuri will most likely ask her to move into his house so he can be closer to her. She can't complain because she was always stuck there because of him. Katakuri was getting a bit possessive and understandably so, now he must protect his wife and future children. He kept caressing the young girl's belly already wishing they were there.

The young Hirawashi can't help but smile tenderly at her husband's impatience. But there is still time. She is in the premature stage and can have children whenever she wants. Of course, Katakuri is older than her and you never know when she might die. And let's not think about that now.

The party lasted for hours and, little by little, the guests were leaving, including the couple who were already a little tired of the party. Brûlée opened a portal in one of the mirrors to allow the two to retire to their respective homes. They needed privacy. They have done it a couple of times before, but this one is special. Katakuri hasn't let go of the girl the whole way through, not even when they got to her room. Len took the opportunity to remove the scarf that was in the way of the perfection in front of him. How is it possible that he doesn't love himself as he is? She must spoil him even more for him to realize it.

Once in the room, they looked at each other and the man couldn't hold it any longer than he caught her lips with his to kiss her. A day without tasting them was killing him inside. One of his big hands began to reach under her dress, rubbing her legs and thighs that drove him crazy. It made him want to tear it with his bare hands, but he didn't think it was funny because she looked beautiful in it. Beautiful and perfect to his eyes. Until his fingers stopped, noticing that something strange was going on down there. It wasn't soft her skin but more like it was made of cloth. 'Don't tell me what...' he purrs not wanting to imagine what's underneath that dress.

"You'd be doing me a favour if you'd take it off," Len says interrupting Katakuri's thoughts.

"You don't mind if I rip it off with my bare hands?" It made him very angry, but he was in need.

"Whatever, after all, you always tear my clothes."

A smile forms on the big man's lips as he rips off the dress. Len sighs with relief that Katakuri has gotten rid of her and notices how the man gives a grunt of satisfaction. She doesn't feel his breathing so she looks up to see him. Big mistake. Those maroon eyes were full of desire and illusion. The white lace lingerie fit her perfectly. It's like he' s dreaming right now.

He lays Len down on the bed, where he is on top of her, undressing. Those clothes were in the way for both of them and the young woman didn't miss the opportunity to caress the abs of this being that everyone considered to be a super human. He was pure perfection. A perfect demon ready to annihilate and love at the same time.

And, finally, both were half naked almost sharing body and soul. The kisses come back full of love and compassion, knowing full well that they both wanted it badly. Katakuri is insatiable. And now even more so with Len as his wife. He wouldn't miss the chance to make her his again and again. Moans and sighs came from both mouths where their sexes rubbed relentlessly seeking each other's touch.

Katakuri's hardness was much greater than in other encounters and that makes Len even wetter wanting to have him inside her right now. There is still time. Time for them to give themselves again, slower and more passionate. The caresses become more tender where each one explores that skin they know so well. Searching for those spots that make you sigh with just a touch.

They break away from the kiss where the man makes a small run with his tongue to Len's neck, slowly descending while his hands stop at her breasts squeezing them hard. The girl kept spreading her legs wider reaching her limit wishing Katakuri would drive her crazy. Oh, and he will. His teeth dig into her bra ripping it apart releasing those mounds that drive him crazy. So firm and big for him. He doesn't want to imagine when she's pregnant. Then he'll have a lot of fun.

He shoves one deep into her mouth without any difficulty, still making light thrusts against her aroused sex. Len moans at the top of her lungs and her hands stay firmly in Katakuri's hair. She squeezes hard every time she touched some erogenous zone he knows. He was torturing her. This was too much for her. That man knows how to turn her on. It was clear he was an expert at this, especially with her when they have shared this need more than once.

Katakuri's highly developed sense of smell kicked in as she witnessed that exquisite scent driving him slightly insane. She was ready for him. Only for her husband. He pulls down his boxers a little, releasing his manhood ready to pierce his beloved's entrance. He pulls down his panties a little and, without waiting any longer, he thrusts in, receiving a moan of pleasure from Len.

That little body is already used to the man's monstrosity. This was very sexy in Katakuri's eyes. Having her in that somewhat submissive position and having her panties rubbing every time he thrust was pure pleasure. It's like he's dreaming, but he's not really like that. This is the fault of the lacy lingerie. He didn't think it would look damn good on her. She must get used to wearing more of that kind of clothing.

Len's hands grip the sheets tightly where pleasure slowly consumes her from the collisions of both sexes. Katakuri's movements become rough and intense almost touching the G-spot of those walls that mercilessly sucked his phallus. He would never tire of pounding that and making Len go crazy with pleasure. The girl's sobs of pleasure intensify even more as she feels her orgasm approaching.

A few more thrusts and Katakuri cums inside her as her vaginal walls squeeze his member releasing the climax. They have given themselves, this time and for real, body and soul as husband and wife. Katakuri positions himself carefully so as not to crush her and rests his head between Len's breasts to catch his breath. So does Len, slowly stroking his head.

"How long do you think it takes for you to be pregnant?" asks a somewhat sleepy Katakuri.

"The human body is weird, I wouldn't know."

Katakuri's big fingers keep caressing the girl's belly.

"You'd make me the happiest man in the world."

"Aren't you?" she laughs at such a comment.

"I am, but I'll be even more so with children I can protect." The man props his chin up to look at Len. "I have a question."

"What is it?"

"Do you think our children will come out to you? I mean, they'll have your monstrous strength and the symbol thing." Eyes locked on the tattoo.

"I couldn't really tell you," Len confesses, looking at him, "I just know what I told you."

"It would be fun to see our kids beating everyone up like you do."

"Are you calling me a brute?"

"It's the truth."

She couldn't be angry with him. After all, he was her husband now and everything he said was true. She sighs slowly closing her eyes slowly where she falls asleep. Katakuri stares at her for a while and then he moves down a bit until he reaches her belly area and rests his head there while hugging her. How he would like that belly to grow and feel the little kicks of those growing creatures

Will he be a good father? He wasn't quite sure. He is afraid that his own children will be afraid of him because of the way he looks. No. He shouldn't think about it. As long as Len is around, nothing will happen. He'll have someone who will love him just the way he is. Knowing her, I'm sure she'll tell the little ones that they shouldn't underestimate someone because of their looks. A big yawn comes out of his mouth and he falls fast asleep just like his beloved wife.

And this all started six months ago before the Mugiwara's arrival at Whole Cake to stop the wedding of one of their nakamas. The wedding of Charlotte Pudding and Vinsmoke Sanji, known as Black Leg.

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Chapter XVI.

Chapter XVIII.

[wedding-dress-shop]

Tips for Mother of the Bride and the Groom

As a mother, watching your child walk down the aisle on wedding day is an indescribable joy. However, being the mother of the bride or groom can also bring its fair share of stress and responsibilities. If you're a mother residing in the scenic Bay Area of San Francisco, this guide is tailor-made for you. Here, we'll share invaluable major tips to ensure you're fully prepared and can shine on this memorable occasion.

Be the Eternal Support System

Collaborate with the happy couple to understand what style or theme do they envision? Discuss your involvement in decisions such as the ceremony, reception, and attire. By being actively involved, you'll help create a strong foundation for a smooth wedding journey.

Dress to Impress: Bridal Boutique Bay Area

Finding the perfect attire is crucial for a mother of the bride or groom. Visit reputable bridal boutiques in the Bay Area as these boutiques offer a wide range of elegant and sophisticated options that complements your personal style and the overall wedding theme.

Hairstyling & Flawless Makeup: Enhancing Your Features

Whether you prefer an up-do, loose curls, or a sleek blowout, ensure the hairstyle enhances your natural beauty and complements your overall look. As for Makeup, seek out a skilled makeup artist and schedule a trial makeup session to experiment with different looks and finalize the one that complements your personal style.

Comfortable and Stylish Footwear: Happy Feet

Consider the venue and terrain of the wedding when selecting your shoes. Opt for heels or wedges that provide stability and support while allowing you to move with ease or consider elegant flats or sandals that still complement your outfit. Remember, comfortable feet will keep you dancing and enjoying the celebrations throughout the day and night.

Final Giveaway!

Accessorize with Elegance: Small Details, Big Impact: Consider delicate jewellery, such as a necklace or earrings, a stylish clutch or handbag and don't forget to consider a hat or fascinator. Remember, it's about finding the perfect balance to create a cohesive and polished appearance. So, embrace your role, cherish and savour every moment of this special day.

[nervousfestlove]

Mother of the bride and groom wedding hairstyle inspiration she will love. Send this pin to mom asap then head to the link for more inspiration from real MOBs. // Photo: Dacia Pearson

http://dlvr.it/SpFxsQ

[ugandantales]

MINZANI - Chapter 1

WELCOME TO MINZANI!!!!

Thank you, beloved reader, for vesting your invaluable time into this book. I'm thrilled to have you hop with me on this train of reminiscing our unforgettable school days as we relate with the characters of 'Minzani'. It is a Luganda word for 'Weighing scale'. Let us see and learn how to tackle inequalities in our society that make us feel isolated.

As we ride this roller-coaster, every bit of syllable that nauseates you, makes you cry, makes you laugh, or even annoys you, any thoughts you have at any point in this story, don't forget to comment them; I would very much love to read your opinions or any harangues you have. This is my first book ever, so any thoughts and opinions are very much welcome.

Don't forget to click the star button on the chapters you love and share this book with your friends if you like it. Leesssggoo!!!! Love, Asiimire ;)

Chapter 1

A QUARTER PAST NINE O'CLOCK, I WAS ALREADY CURLED UP in the living room on my three-inch bare mattress. The lamp wick was burning low and Mama was seated at the foot of my mattress sewing her red Mushanana, the skirt was getting loose in the waistline, so she decided to reduce the size of the elastic band as she waited for Tata to arrive. Later, she would iron out the thread folds and hang it in a plastic hanger on the wall beside Tata's trousers. It would stay there until the next wedding when one of our aunties or her friends got married. Mama, wearing this red Mushanana, a sleeveless blouse topped by a matching red wrapper made her glamorous and respectable at all the weddings we attended. Guests would mistake her for the Guest of Honor or an aunt of the groom or one of the biggest contributors to that wedding. She always told those stories with a glee of self-satisfaction. One time, at Aunt Nancy's Kuhinjira, she was mistaken for being her mother, because by then she was still plump and her cut hairstyle made her look older than she really was. The organizers welcomed her respectfully and placed her in the parents' tent where timely food and drinks deliveries were made. The organizers nearly disgraced themselves when the groom's mother complained that she had not yet been served and most of the guests had already started eating. The organizers looked at Mama and were speechless, they could not accuse Mama of lying to them because they had just made their wrong assumptions and she was not to blame. She treasured this Mushanana so much that even when were started selling off our luxuries because of Tata's treatment, she insisted on keeping it, even at the cost of all her shoes: the pink trainers that she worked out in, all her stilettos of colors; Maroon, Black, and Brown. This Mushanana was her only reminder of the good life she once lived. But now, she had to tighten elastic bands in the waistline because she had lost tremendous weight, her cheekbones and jawline were sharper, and I bet this time if she were invited to any wedding, the organizers would mistake her as one of their own.

DECEMBER, LAST YEAR, when we visited Kaaka, Mama's mother, she could not recognize her own daughter. When we reached the main road where Boda Bodas stopped in Rukungiri, Ongulu and I went on to carry the bags of posho we had brought for Kaaka down to her mud-plastered store through creaking rusted iron bar gate, which was so narrow that might Mama, during the good old days when she was fat and firm, might have had to enter sideways if she ever were to visit. The compound was bare and covered in dust. One stinking Billy goat, two nanny goats, and a few chickens sauntered around, nibbling and pecking at stems of grass that rimmed the edges of the compound, beyond which was a lush banana plantation. The house that stood in the middle of the compound was small, compact like dice, and it was hard to imagine Mama and her sister, Aunty Nancy growing up there. It looked just like the pictures of houses I used to draw in kindergarten: a square house with a square door at the center and two square windows on each side, topped by a triangle iron sheet. The only difference was that Kaaka's house had a raised verandah, which acted as a resting spot for any passerby. The first time Ongulu and I visited, I had walked in looking for the bathroom, and Kaaka had laughed and pointed at the outhouse, a closet-size building of mud-overlaid blocks with a mat of entwined palm fronds pulled across the gaping entrance. She welcomed us, pinching both of our cheeks while we were weighed down by the ten kilograms of posho in our hands.

"Nyoko wanyu alahi? Where is your mother?" she said as she looked up the slope we had come from. Her Runyankole was a forced version she spoke to ensure that we understood. We could never comprehend the natural way words rolled on her tongue.

"She is sorting out the Boda guy," Ongulu replied.

"You people have refused to learn Runyankole completely. Loyce doesn't want to teach you your mother tongue," she complained.

"But Langi is our mother tongue, Kaaka," I said.

"Do you know why it is called 'mother tongue'? Because it is your mother's language, not your father's. Or else it would be father tongue" she said, feeling important.

"Jojo does not know even half a kilo of Langi," Ongulu hollered from the store where he was arranging the sacks of posho and salt that Mama had bought in Kampala.

"Ongulu!" I said, shooting daggers at him as he came out of the store, his hands tainted with maize flour.

"Ah! Maybe my name. That's the only word you know in Langi," he said.

"You kids are very lazy. With all the things you took, was this bag of salt too heavy to carry as well?" Mama said as she carried a thirty-sachet bag of salt. Kaaka turned from the banana plant that she was cutting a banana leaf from when she heard Mama's voice. She turned around and her eyes fell on a frail-looking woman she could not recognize. Her eyes welled up, I could see it, but I think she remembered that we were watching and blinked away the tears. She composed herself and went on to hug Mama. Later on, when Mama had claimed Kaaka's kitchen, and Ongulu was off to find his village buddies, I sneaked into Kaaka's bedroom. I found her sitting on her bed, facedown, and with hands in her face. She heard my footsteps and wiped away the tears with her tattered fading blue lesu. She blew her nose in it, and afterward, she asked me,

"Hilary, does Geoffrey, your father treat my daughter right?" I had never heard anyone call Tata by name, sometimes I forgot that it was his name.

"Does your father beat my daughter?" she added. I was alarmed by this notion. It had never occurred to me that Tata could ever lay a hand on Mama.

"No, not at all. Why?" I asked her.

"You people should call me to send you some Matooke every month. Mulokole comes in these parts at the end of the month. Why don't you call when you need help? Hmm! Geoffrey is too proud to ask from his mother-in-law." She said, sneering at the thought. Mama hollered from the kitchen asking me to get some ghee from the cupboard. She literally saved me from Kaaka's awkward discourse.

TATA SHOULD HAVE ARRIVED AN HOUR EARLIER but he had to do our school shopping. The third term holiday had been a full month but he always did the shopping one day before the reporting day. During the Christmas season, Tata never rested like the other fathers, he always begged his boss, he liked calling him Koja, that he would drive his taxis off duty to earn some extra money. He would work daily to save up for our school fees and shopping. Most people in the Christmas season traveled to the village by bus but Tata found a way of making them use his taxi. He worked up to the last day of the holiday but still, the money was not enough to cater for everything. I was pretending to sleep because Mama had told us that we had to wake up early the next day. My elder brother, Ongulu, was sleeping on the old coffee brown sofa which had a pile of clothes to fill up for the two missing cushions. He was already in never-never land because I could hear his snore. Not so loud, just like a silent whistle.

THERE WAS A SMALL KNOCK ON our metallic door. Tata never knocked loudly in the night, so as not to wake us. It was good timing because Mama was done with the last tear around the armpit area. She bit the thread and fixed back the needle in the yarn before she opened the bolt. I viewed everything from under Mama's yellow lesu that I used as a bed sheet. Tata moved into the house: a smallish, frail figure, the meagerness of his body merely emphasized by the oversize grey T-shirt that had the word; ARMY and his faded blue jeans that he wore every day. His naturally sanguine face was now contorted by a haggard look, his skin roughened by coarse washing soap that we used for bathing, and blunt razor blade pimples with a few sprinkles of budding grey hairs that were shaved a week ago. He carried two green biveras, I could see picfare books that outlined the green plastic bags. I knew that one was mine and the other was Ongulu's. Tata sat in his tattered one-sitter sofa with most of its sponge showing and placed the biveras on the floor. Facedown, Tata placed his large hands in his face.

"It's all I managed to get."

Mama perused through the biveras bringing out one thing at a time. Picfare books, two sets, six toilet papers, pencils, and two reams of paper.

"At least we got the reams this time," she said as she leaned them against the table that was moved over to create space for my mattress. She then took a five-liter jerrycan and the blue piece of washing soap near the door and took them to the bedroom. Tata then followed after her. He never took his showers from the bathroom outside especially when it was dark and late. Mama would place a basin for him to stand in and he would pour the water from the jerrycan. How do I know this? One day I had forgotten to get our toilet pail under Mama's bed and Tata had already arrived. I could have left it there and waited till morning, after all, Ongulu never used it, but I had stayed at Grace's place up to seven o'clock to fluke their evening tea. She was very light-skinned, with honey-colored quizzical eyes, and eyes that asked many questions and did not accept many answers. Whenever she smiled, her mouth turned up at the sides in a perpetual smile, revealing a gap between her front teeth.

With her small well- proportioned body, she walked fast, like one who knew just where she was going and what she was going to do there. And she spoke the way she walked as if to get as many words out of her mouth as she could in the shortest time. The tea backfired and I could not hold my urine. I saw something that I wish I could unsee at all costs. I saw Tata, the way he was born, with soap in his eyes, he didn't see me though. I went back immediately and opened the door and brazenly urinated on the verandah.

"Put out that lamp," Mama said from their bedroom, startling me as I perused the first green plastic bag, although her words were low and calm. How did she know that I was awake this whole time? Mama might have been a spy before she got married. I checked through the second one, maybe I had missed something from my point of view under the lesu. The first one had to be Ongulu's, he didn't need a P5 uniform because he was now in P7 and boys never had a change of design from P1 to P7. The second one still had no uniform. Something was wrong. Tata knew that we needed new uniform designs for P5, or maybe he had forgotten which class I was going to. But how could he forget? He is the one who always helped me with my Math weekend homework every Saturday. He is the one who complained that the current curriculum was staid and that it did not encourage the children to be creative. Being spoon-fed, he called it. On those Saturdays, I beamed with pride. I forgot that Tata was a taxi driver. At that moment, I wanted one of my classmates to visit and look at my dad and speak with authority as he coached me. I could care less for our ramshackle home and swim in the pride of having my Mathematician dad speak. He definitely knew that I was promoted to Primary five because he was the first person to whom I presented my end-of-year report card. I had not even planned on wearing my lower-class uniform for the upper class. I hadn't even ironed it.

"Are you fighting with the lamp?" Mama hollered again.

"No, Mama," I put out the lamp and went back to bed. I wept silently in the dark until sleep came and took me.

After what looked like a few minutes of sleep, I felt feet making dips in my mattress. I squinted my eyes and the lamp was back on. Did I mistakenly forget to put it out? I remember very well that I did. Then I saw Ongulu tucking in his white short-sleeved shirt in his pair of grey shorts. It was already morning. I got up quickly, folded my lesu, pulled the sofa, and leaned the mattress between the sofa and the wall, and we both pulled back the table to the center of the sitting room where my mattress had been. Ongulu had already lit the charcoal stove in the corner of the sitting room next to the door and on it was water in a saucepan starting to boil. We always made tea at once in the saucepan and poured it into our matching yellow plastic cups and packed the rest in our mineral water bottles for breakfast at school. Sometimes we had an escort, it would either be leftover posho or sweet potatoes or on lucky days we would have buns. This morning, I saw a kavera with two buns. Ongulu and I called them mwanakaba because they were small and rectangular and fit to soothe crying babies.

It was still dark outside and not many people had woken up. We shared the bathroom with six other tenants and I had to go through the narrow corridor to get there. I was already in a rush so I bathed from the verandah. The Grace's had just turned off their security lights and I knew that she had just woken up. They lived in Mzee Okello's rentals that were facing ours. Mzee Okello's only large residential house in the village was directly facing our house, and Mama Keisha; our neighbor next door had a retail shop, and the Graces lived just next to his house. They had a small gate that shielded two other tenants. Our compound, which also acted as Mzee Okello's driveway, was wide enough to hold ten children playing Kirindi kwepena, our local dodgeball, and anyone who would get hit by the ball, given that they were not the first ones, since the first one was always pardoned "asooka awebwa", would sit on our verandah and wait until the last person dodged the ball for the stipulated rounds, most times it would be ten, and then we would all go back at the center and play. Sometimes the last person at the center would fail to make it to the ten rounds. He/she and the second person to be hit would replace the two people who had been hitting the ball. I dreaded being the one who had to hit the ball, so I made sure that I was never the second person to be hit nor the last one at the center. Grace, my best friend, was very athletic. Whenever she was the last one at the center, the rest of us cheered her on because we were sure that we would be back in the game. She was always our kwepena messiah. Sometimes we never played Kirindi, we could play kwepena in all its different tastes we could invent. There was Kirindi kwepena, Kakebe kwepena, Kyereere Kwepena, and I know other tastes of kwepena are still underway. Kwepena was not gender-based, boys and girls would all play and the tall ones were usually the hitters. The villagers complained all the time we broke off for holidays. Some parents even took their children immediately after breaking off, but we always had a team to play kwepena, no matter how many we were. Last holiday, Grace was supposed to go to the village but I went with her to plead with her father so that she could remain. We gave excuses for doing the holiday package together and how I needed her to help me with Mathematics, but really the catch was about the holiday fun that we were on the verge of missing had she gone to the village. I was pouring water on myself when I had their small gate open. My heart jumped, praying that it might not be any of her parents or their neighbors. I hid in our iron sheet fence that acted as Mama's kitchen. Tata built it for her when he was discharged from the hospital after he had come back from Iraq. Before, Mama cooked our food from the house, saying that our hour was so much on display. She could not mingle posho and fry beans to show the whole village that we ate posho and beans every day. Yes, it would bring a lot of heat in our ceiling-less house but she would later take out the charcoal stove. When Tata came back from the hospital, building the kitchen fence on our verandah was the first thing he did, because he thought that cooking from the house was too risky. Good thing I had finished pouring water on my body and was left scrubbing my feet. I reached for the lesu I had to hang on the fence and tied it around myself.

I heard giggles and peeked only to see Grace with a toothbrush in her mouth and a one-liter yellow jerrycan that once held cooking oil. She spit out and laughed.

"Totukudde, you haven't bathed thoroughly," said Grace in between her laughs.

"You scared me, I thought it was your father." As I scrubbed my feet on the verandah's rough patch.

"What if it were my father?" Grace said, still laughing. "Would you even remember your lesu?"

"Are you done showering?" I changed the subject. "Ongulu is done with everything."

Grace spit out quickly and rushed inside without saying a word. It was my turn to laugh because I knew that Grace would do anything to please my brother. Ongulu was fifteen years old, three years older than Grace. She always said that she did not mind the age gap, after all her father was five years older than her mother. Ongulu was smart but he failed to read between the lines of Grace's submissiveness to him. Grace made every effort to be agreeable to Ongulu but he thought she was only being a good girl.

I went back inside and regretted why I never ironed my P4 uniform. I entered Mama's bedroom, just at the entrance, and searched through a pile of washed clothes in the basin. I knew that they were already awake, so I greeted them in the dark. I crawled over to their bed, bent over, and spread out my hand to search for the ironing box under the bed. I hated myself for hoping for something that I knew was close to impossible.

Ongulu was labeling his books when he glanced at me carrying an ironing box and out-of-the-goat's-mouth uniform. He shook his head in disbelief and continued with his work. He had placed my mwanakaba bun and my cup on the table. I knew he had already packed his tea and mine and placed the bottles in our MTN cross bags that Aunt Beth, Tata's sister had won in a promotion. She gave them to us when she visited Tata who had just been discharged from the hospital. She was the only in-law that Mama could get along with. She had helped Mama while Tata was still admitted to Mulago Hospital. She would go to Kalerwe market, buy foodstuffs with her own money, and bring them home to Mama so that she would cook for Tata. Later, they would leave Ongulu and me at home, and take the food to Tata, and one of them would come to sleep at the hospital while the other came back to check on us. Through our translucent purple curtain, I could see a few streaks of sun rays making slits in the dark. I definitely knew that we were going to be late this time. I laid Ongulu's green thin torn towel on it before I placed my uniform. I had tied my lesu in the form of a back-show dress and the water on my body was starting to get dried up. I went outside and lit up the ironing box with the remaining burning coals in the charcoal stove where Ongulu had boiled the tea from. Grace came out smartly dressed in her P5 uniform, still the pink and white checked dress like the P4 uniform but with a belt on it and inside pockets, not the outside big square pockets that were on the P4 uniforms. P5 uniform showed that you had officially transitioned to upper school. You could use the big canteen with no questions asked. Prefects always stopped us whenever we wanted to buy eats from the big canteen. Last year, in the first term, our class organized a study trip to visit the Coca-Cola Company in Namanve. I could not tell my parents about it because Tata had just gotten completely on his feet, and started working for Koja. Grace, on the other hand, had been given the twenty thousand for the trip. When she learned that I had not paid, she did not hand it the money to the teacher. Instead, we went together to the big canteen. I kept telling her that it was a bad idea but she would not listen, until the head boy, well dressed in his long grey trousers and a crisply ironed shirt stopped us. We could not lie that we were in P5 or P6, not even P7, because of our uniforms. We went back to class and I urged Grace to pay the money and go. She yielded unwillingly but she went for the trip.

I could not avoid the pangs of jealousy and anger stinging my chest when I saw her in that uniform.

"I thought you had left me," she said. "I waited for you, you were not coming then decided to come and check if you had gone."

I ignored her and continued to blow the coals in the ironing box.

" Eh! Grace, come inside, this one won't be done anytime soon," said Ongulu when he opened the curtain. Grace walked passed me like she had done something wrong. Her only crime was that she had the shiny Primary Five uniform that I was supposed to have, and her parents shopped two weeks into the third term holiday and a week into the first and second term holidays. I hated being a charity case whenever I lurked during their lunchtime on the days they made pork and beef. They didn't even know food combinations, how can you make atapa, dough from cassava flour and boiling water, and porridgey curry soup with chunks of pork shrouded in it? I pretended to love their cultural food, which happens to be ours too, but Mama's got better taste so that I could stay long enough for the chocolate milk tea and biscuits that they served for evening tea. She walked helplessly like a dog that had been barked at by its master and entered the house. I regretted why I had acted that way because she did not deserve it. The fire in the ironing box was ready now to iron my dreaded uniform. Grace was sitting knees pressed together fidgeting with her nails on the long sofa, Ongulu's bed, at the far end where the cloth piles had been patched. She always did that even when she spoke to teachers. I wonder why she even contested the post of class monitor when she was bound to speak to teachers all the time. She had singlehandedly solicited the votes from her class of one hundred thirty pupils. Her opponents, all boys, did not even get close to the number of votes she had. With all this tenacity, I wondered why she was still timid before teachers. She did not try to look at me. Ongulu was not in the sitting room, he was in Mama's bedroom probably begging for the day's pocket money. Last year, when he was in primary six, and I in primary four, they gave us five hundred shillings every day, two hundred mine and three hundred his. Two hundred shillings was only enough to buy two namungodis, rice balls wrapped in flour and curry paste. Luckily, Aunty Namu was my friend, she used to give an extra one and the falling debris of those that were not very intact in the ball. I wonder where Ongulu used to get extra money because at break time when I went to pick up my money. Primary one to four was lower school and primary five to seven was upper school. Each block was a class with different streams. It was quite a run from the Primary Four block to my brother's class. He was seated with a group of five boys at his desk, like a dining table, having eats that three hundred shillings could never buy. They had things you could only get from the big canteen, index-finger-size shaped sausages, popcorn, chaps, kebabs, things I could only eat with my eyes, except for one time when Ochola, Ongulu's desk mate called me and broke a thumb piece of kebab and gave me. I didn't know there was a lot of chili in it. I grimaced at the fire on my tongue and they found it funny, even Ongulu was laughing. I felt betrayed and ran out of their class.

"Jojo, Jojo, stop," my brother panted after me. "It's not you we were laughing at." I turned around, tear-drenched, and narrowed my eyes at him.

"Give me my money," I stretched out my hand to him.

"Sorry," he said.

"Give me my money," it came out louder than I intended.

He pulled out the coins from his left pocket and the inside white cloth came out with it. He put the money in my hand. I examined each coin, one had a fish, and the other a cow. This wasn't my money, this was his. I angrily threw the one with the cow and ran, the clink-clink of the coin on the cement resounding in my ears. I didn't look back but I imagined him bending over immediately to search for it in the trench. The end-of-break bell rang and I went back to lower school without having my breakfast.

I knelt before the table and ironed all the creases on my uniform, the white collar still maintained its white but it was getting torn at the folds. Mama had changed it to the back side at the first tear and now both sides were torn. The big side pockets that could cover a whole \mathematical set, were still intact because I did not over poke my hands in them like the other girls at school. Some put popcorn in them and gnawed when the teacher faced the blackboard. Others brazenly put namungodis and samosas so that you could see the oil patches. Sometimes I doubted whether they did their own laundry because that would need a lot of soap and washing. I felt Grace's eyes over my shoulders and I folded the uniform to cover the collar.

"I can give you mine. I have two," she said hesitatingly.

I did not look at her instead I folded Ongulu's towel, placed it on the chair's armrest, and held my uniform in the crook of my arm.

"I want to put on," I said. She was shocked that I was finally talking to her and that she didn't get what I said at the first hearing.

"I want to put on," I repeated. "Close your eyes or look away."

"What is happening?" Ongulu came from Mama's bedroom. "Grace come we wait for her outside."

Grace rushed to pick up her VISA FAMILY bag and went out with Ongulu. Ongulu gave me a warning departing eye on his way out. I dried the rest of the water in my half-inch hair. It's not like Kitante Primary School never allowed girls to grow hair, you just had to promise that you could maintain it. The model was to plait hair that had pink and white beads to match the pattern of the girls' uniform. I used to plait, those days when Tata was still in Iraq, primary one and two. He used to send Mama some Dollars and the little she could save after distributing the money to Tata's siblings and paying school fees and the home necessities, she used to indulge me and take me to the salon. I never liked it by then because I used to cry whenever they plaited my hair but now I miss it. Ever since Tata was brought back bedridden because of Diabetes, things never remained the same. He cut off my hair, one morning in the sitting room with his machine that he had brought from Iraq. I held my wig-like hair between my fingers while I flooded with tears. We could not keep many of our luxuries because of Tata's health. We lost our TV, shifted to a smaller house, two small rooms in Mulago UEB Zone, sold mine and Ongulu's beds, and started depending only on Mama's income from the small kiosk she had in Makerere University before they banished all hawkers and shopkeepers within the university. My hair was the least of the losses that I could complain about, and besides, most pupils in the upper classes started to cut off their hair deliberately, at least I could fit in. Grace, however, still had hers because they could maintain it. She always plaited the ponytail cornrows, with a few braids with pink and white beads dangling on her forehead. Her hair would not last three weeks because of how careless she was; in only a week, the black threads would turn brown because she did not mind dust getting into her hair. She would join us mindlessly whenever we played in the rain. Later, her mother would scold her for ruining her hair before taking her to the salon to blow dry it, but Grace did not mind; there was so much she did not mind.

MAMA KEISHA'S SHOP WAS ALREADY OPEN, Ongulu and Grace were sitting on her bench while they waited for me. We were so late. Mama Keisha always opened her shop an hour after we had left for school. Mama used to complain about her all the time when she wanted to buy tea leaves for Tata's morning tea before he left for work. Sometimes Mama was keen enough to stock some tea leaves and sugar, but there were times when she was very busy and just forgot.

Ongulu stood up when I closed the door. Grace stood up as well and I walked behind them. Our loud footsteps did the talking, Ongulu walking the fastest, we were literally running even with the baggage of our green plastic bags that carried school requirements. I was relieved when Mama Nakku's door was closed. I hated and almost feared that woman with all my heart and soul. Every time we passed, she insisted that we knelt while greeting her. Yes, I hate kneeling, but with her sort of behavior, even if I liked kneeling, it was above what she ought to have demanded. She would spend the whole day gossiping and picking fights with everyone.

One time, Ongulu was playing football with Ben, Mzee Okello's grandson, and Calvin, one of Grace's neighbors while Buda, the new kid in the village watched from their balcony, the house opposite Mama Keisha's shop, since his mother refused him to mingle with us, the village kids, The ball was accidentally kicked, I don't know by whom, but it flung into Mama Nakku's house, just next to Buda's, and hell broke loose, it was like she had been waiting for this opportunity to have something against Mama. She came heaving breathlessly at our door, knocking loudly. Mama and I were peeling cassava in the house, which we would later fry and sell the next morning when we heard a bang on the door. Her eyes were balled out shouting for Mama to get out. All the neighbors came out wondering what the matter was, some were secretly wishing for a fight. They wanted to see some live action that was always presented by Mama Nakku. With matters concerning Mama Nakku, there was bound to be one. Mama apologized but she insisted that they spank Ongulu. She could not leave without witnessing him being disciplined. Imagine she did not even go to the other kids' homes. Mama gave Ongulu fake but painful slaps so she could leave.

Every morning and evening, to and fro school, I made short prayers as I approached her house willing her to be inside or gone. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't. And when it didn't, I had to kneel and greet. I wasn't as hardhearted as Ongulu. He could show off his hatred ever since the ball incident. Grace simply pretended that she had not seen her and ran off or pretended that someone was calling her while I, the well-behaved one, knelt down and muttered the greetings. I could see the triumph in her eyes and promised myself that I would be as bold as Ongulu or as blind as Grace the next time I passed. But it didn't happen. Deep inside me, I knew that this woman was either a night dancer or a witch. That boldness and brazenness had to come from somewhere. She could freely contend with Uncle Kiwa, the village chairperson, and he would let her be.

WE REACHED MULAGO Catholic Church, where we attended church, famous for its sharp pointed peak at the top of the iron sheets. It was built like a dome but for the outward curving of the iron sheets that led to the famous pointer at the top. Ongulu used the shortcut through Kapaapaali Police Station so that we could not be so late. That route was usually dangerous especially at dawn, around five to six, and under normal circumstances, we would never use it, but it was already broad daylight and safe. Two years ago, when Ongulu begged Tata while he was still in Iraq for One hundred fifty thousand shillings for their trip to Queen Elizabeth National Park Kasese, he used that route so that he could reach earlier than usual, a group of four boys not more than sixteen years attacked him and took his fifty thousand shillings for pocket money. The good thing was that the One hundred fifty was sent to the teachers directly on Mobile Money. He did not come back home, he went straight to school, with his white shirt dirtied with mud. He told us that he lied to the teachers that he had slid into a trench on his way to school. Their stay was one month and all that time he depended on his friend Ochola since he was given more-than-enough pocket money. Since that day, he has always dreaded using that route.

[nurjbridaldubai]

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Importance Of Bridal Shop In Dubai

Bridal Shop in Dubai are extremely important in the wedding industry. They provide a comprehensive range of services, from helping couples choose the appropriate wedding attire to providing on-site alterations and custom tailoring. Bridal shops in Dubai also offer a variety of wedding accessories, such as veils, tiaras, and jewelry.

Additionally, they offer a wide selection of gowns and dresses for bridesmaids, groomsmen, and flower girls. Finally, they provide expert advice on makeup, hairstyles, and other wedding details.

All You Need To Know About Bridal boutique

A Bridal Boutique is a store specializing in wedding gowns and other bridal accessories. These stores typically offer a wide variety of gowns in numerous styles, fabrics, and sizes. They often carry a selection of bridesmaids dresses, mother-of-the-bride dresses, flower girl dresses, veils, jewelry, shoes, lingerie, and other accessories.

The staff of a bridal boutique can provide advice and assist the bride in finding the perfect gown for her special day. They may also offer custom alterations and/or a bridal registry.

So if you’re someone who’s looking for the best bridal boutique then it’s better to reach out to the multiple stores all across the globe and find the best one. Whereas Nurj Bridal is the one that you could consider where we serve access to multiple wedding clothes with various designs.

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WEARING SILK SAREE IS MORE BENEFICIAL TO OUR HEALTH IN 6 WAYS

ABOUT SILK…

One of the most widely worn outfits in India is the saree. Indian women wear them at almost all ages and stages of life. The most important moments in Indian culture are incomplete without a saree. The saree is a staple of Indian celebrations in one form or another, whether worn by the lady of the house, the closest female visitors, or as a significant gift. The saree is popular with everyone, including renowned women leaders, the most accomplished ladies in India, and the most basic of women. 

Most people all around the world, especially Indians, have a special place in their hearts and imaginations for the gracefully shimmering, smooth, and luscious fabric of silk. We are so mesmerised and in awe of this gorgeous fabric that we unconsciously link silk with wealth and sophistication, but most of them don’t know that silk offers some benefits for our health also.

 SILK – AN INDIAN FASHION STATEMENT

Understanding the significance of silk sarees in Indian culture makes it easier to understand the greatness of the silk saree, which is the most beautiful and well-liked of all saree varieties. The most favoured and incredibly regal fabric is silk. Therefore, it should come as no surprise that these unique sarees would be made of luxurious silk. Without silk sarees, an Indian woman's wardrobe or wedding rituals would be unfinished.

SILK- AS AN INDIAN TRADITION

In India, silk sarees are worn for all traditional events. They are given as gifts and worn at significant events. Even today, they are preserved and valued. Rich, heirloom silk sarees are gifts given at weddings by mothers, grandmothers, and grooms, in addition to the bridal jewellery. Silk sarees are recognised as sacred and lucky, and they are even given to renowned goddesses and respectable female relatives. Such is India's reverence for silk sarees! Although it may vary significantly from place to region within India, this custom is present in all areas in one way or another.

HEALTH BENEFITS OF SILK SAREES ….

We frequently associate silk with elegance and allure. But there's a lot more to it than that, especially when you wear it. Even though silk is far more expensive than any other fabric, it is all-natural and does have significant health advantages. Silk saree vendors offer the highest calibre attire with a captivating appearance that may highlight your beauty at any event.

Silk is one of the most expensive fabrics one could own and is used to make sophisticated and upscale apparel and decor. It has several health advantages and is a sign of sophistication.

1) Silky, healthy hair

Everyone has heard the phrase "healthy silky hairs." This isn't just a phrase used to describe the beauty of shiny, healthy hair; in fact, silk encourages the growth of hair that is shinier and healthier. The use of a silk cushion when sleeping not only minimises hair breakage and damage caused by tangling. The smooth, supple texture of silk allows the hair to rest comfortably against one another, minimising the possibility of damage from tangling and drying. Sleeping with your hair wrapped in a silk scarf helps delay the release of extra oil, keeping your hairstyle in place longer.

2) Silk sarees and skin health

Silk is the ideal solution for people who have dry, dehydrated skin. Silk sheets can help the skin retain moisture as you sleep. The characteristics of the silk weave stop the skin's moisture from evaporating, keeping it well-hydrated. This further slows down skin ageing, allowing you to maintain youthful, healthy skin for longer.

3) Silk saree & good sleep habits

Our physical and mental wellness are both impacted by how well we sleep. The body and mind are rejuvenated while sleeping. Your quality of sleep can be significantly enhanced by using silk bedding. For everyone who struggles to fall asleep and turns to sleeping medications, getting good sleep is no longer dependent on pills. Isn’t it a good benefit of silk for health!!!

4) Wear Silk saree and be safe from allergies

Natural repellents like dust, bacteria, mites, mould, and many other common allergens are kept at bay by silk. It's one of the main causes why anyone can wear silk. Silk is free of any potential allergens, making it the perfect option for those with allergic skin. It shields the skin from any flare-ups, skin rashes, and even more from the runny and stuffy nose that the majority of allergy sufferers experience.

5) Silk fights with one of the Menopause symptoms

Silk helps battle one of the most challenging signs of ageing, hot flushes during menopause, in addition to making you look younger with radiant and smoother skin. Silk is an extremely airy and lightweight material. Silk has a built-in ability to regulate body temperature, making it more comfortable and cooler to sleep in. It lessens perspiration, which lessens the likelihood of hot flushes.

6) Adaptable to all weather conditions

A thread formed of natural fibres is called silk. Due to its lightness and airiness, it is even appropriate for the summer. Due to its low conductivity, it tends to keep warm air near to the body in cold temperatures.

So, the conclusion of the blog is if you want to stay fit and healthy …. just go and flourish your wardrobe with beautiful silk sarees….and offer your health some benefits of silk.

For more details visit our website at www.sabezy.com

You can call us at 9970180147

So, ladies are you ready ??????? let’s go for shopping…. https://sabezy.com/Fashion/Women/Womens-Ethnic-Wear/sarees

[sabezy]

WEARING SILK SAREE IS MORE BENEFICIAL TO OUR HEALTH IN 6 WAYS

  ABOUT SILK…

One of the most widely worn outfits in India is the saree. Indian women wear them at almost all ages and stages of life. The most important moments in Indian culture are incomplete without a saree. The saree is a staple of Indian celebrations in one form or another, whether worn by the lady of the house, the closest female visitors, or as a significant gift. The saree is popular with everyone, including renowned women leaders, the most accomplished ladies in India, and the most basic of women.  

Most people all around the world, especially Indians, have a special place in their hearts and imaginations for the gracefully shimmering, smooth, and luscious fabric of silk. Wear so mesmerized and in awe of this gorgeous fabric that we unconsciously link silk with wealth and sophistication, but most of them don’t know that silk offers some benefits for our health also.

 SILK – AN INDIAN FASHION STATEMENT

Understanding the significance of silk sarees in Indian culture makes it easier to understand the greatness of the silk saree, which is the most beautiful and well-liked of all saree varieties. The most favored and incredibly regal fabric is silk. Therefore, it should come as no surprise that these unique sarees would be made of luxurious silk. Without silk sarees, an Indian woman's wardrobe or wedding rituals would be unfinished.

Pic credited by “freepik”

 SILK- AS AN INDIAN TRADITION

In India, silk sarees are worn for all traditional events. They are given as gifts and worn at significant events. Even today, they are preserved and valued. Rich, heirloom silk sarees are gifts given at weddings by mothers, grandmothers, and grooms, in addition to the bridal jewellery. Silk sarees are recognized as sacred and lucky, and they are even given to renowned goddesses and respectable female relatives. Such is India's reverence for silk sarees! Although it may vary significantly from place to region within India, this custom is present in all areas in one way or another.

 HEALTH BENEFITS OF SILK SAREES ….    

We frequently associate silk with elegance and allure. But there's a lot more to it than that, especially when you wear it. Even though silk is far more expensive than any other fabric, it is all-natural and does have significant health advantages. Silk saree vendors offer the highest calibre attire with a captivating appearance that may highlight your beauty at any event.

Silk is one of the most expensive fabrics one could own and is used to make sophisticated and upscale apparel and decor. It has several health advantages and is a sign of sophistication.

 1) Silky, healthy hair

Everyone has heard the phrase "healthy silky hairs." This isn't just a phrase used to describe the beauty of shiny, healthy hair; in fact, silk encourages the growth of hair that is shinier and healthier. The use of a silk cushion when sleeping not only minimizes hair breakage and damage caused by tangling. The smooth, supple texture of silk allows the hair to rest comfortably against one another, minimizing the possibility of damage from tangling and drying. Sleeping with your hair wrapped in a silk scarf helps delay the release of extra oil, keeping your hairstyle in place longer.

 2) Silk sarees and skin health

Silk is the ideal solution for people who have dry, dehydrated skin. Silk sheets can help the skin retain moisture as you sleep. The characteristics of the silk weave stop the skin's moisture from evaporating, keeping it well-hydrated. This further slows down skin ageing, allowing you to maintain youthful, healthy skin for longer.

  Pic credited by “adobe stock”

 3) Silk saree & good sleep habits

Our physical and mental wellness is both impacted by how well we sleep. The body and mind are rejuvenated while sleeping. Your quality of sleep can be significantly enhanced by using silk bedding. For everyone who struggles to fall asleep and turns to sleeping medications, getting good sleep is no longer dependent on pills. Isn’t it a good benefit of silk for health!!!

  4) Wear silk saree and be safe from allergies

Natural repellents like dust, bacteria, mites, mould, and many other common allergens are kept at bay by silk. It's one of the main causes why anyone can wear silk. Silk is free of any potential allergens, making it the perfect option for those with allergic skin. It shields the skin from any flare-ups, skin rashes, and even more from the runny and stuffy nose that the majority of allergy sufferers experience.

 5) Silk fights with one of the Menopause symptoms

Silk helps battle one of the most challenging signs of ageing, hot flushes during menopause, in addition to making you look younger with radiant and smoother skin. Silk is an extremely airy and lightweight material. Silk has a built-in ability to regulate body temperature, making it more comfortable and cooler to sleep in. It lessens perspiration, which lessens the likelihood of hot flushes.

 6) Adaptable to all weather conditions

A thread formed of natural fibers is called silk. Due to its lightness and airiness, it is even appropriate for the summer. Due to its low conductivity, it tends to keep warm air near to the body in cold temperatures.

 So, the conclusion of the blog is if you want to stay fit and healthy …. just go and flourish your wardrobe with beautiful silk sarees….and offer your health some benefits of silk.

Pic credited by “adobe stock”

 For more details visit our website at www.sabezy.com

You can call us at 9970180147

So, ladies are you ready ??????? let’s go for shopping….https://sabezy.com/Fashion-clothes/Women/sarees