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#short formal dresses for weddings
dressonsale31 · 4 months
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Helmut Lang dresses | DressOutlets
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this is a g*yl*r comment that kinda makes sense out of context - and, trust, they’re not my vice but some of the tayvis people are ABSOLUTELY going buckwild over gender in very depressing ways all the time - but the behavior in question is that travis (a professional football player) was watching football on his phone at the US open and some commenter was like “i can’t believe both taylor and i have to put up with this 😂”…. i feel like this is a pretty harmless thing to joke about putting up with and that while it’s possible said commenter is with some guy who emotionally neglects her to hide in his mancave during football season “putting up with” your partner’s little Things (which again in this case is not actually travis’s hobby it’s his literal job) is a gender neutral concept. for example my partner has to put up with me talking about the g*yl*r quotes i don’t bother to post here
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blackmensuited · 1 year
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simstariaccfinds · 2 years
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By @miikocc​
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Mermaid gown
The Wedding day is the most important day in every girl's life and The Wedding outfit for a girl is the one she imagines and cultivates since her childhood and all her emotions and feelings are attached with the wedding gown. Christina Rossi in Australia is the versatile designer of wedding dresses in Sydney and Melbourne who matches the need and requirement of the bride according to their climate-appropriate style, multicultural influence, eco-friendly choice, endless variety, flattering fit and much more than that. She believes in matching the personality of the bride with the wedding Mermaid gown of the bride and making that even more special to the couple because wedding is not just a dress, instead its the sign of love and lifelong journey.
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Acquired: Shop of St. Philip, Brevard, NC, June 2024
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msfantasy-anime · 2 months
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The Very Real Wedding
Monkey D. Luffy x Reader
Summary: a short story prequel to my wife. This is the story of when Sabo and Ace arranged a wedding ceremony for their younger brother.
Part I • Part II
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The sky is dark, and the straw hats ships is lively and rambunctious as ever. You sit amongst the crew on deck as you enjoy each others company, and singing songs like the drunkards you were. The mood begins to settle down, as your full bellies urge you all into a food coma, prompting the crew to request you for a story.
“Common Y/n, dont give us the cliff notes of your ‘wedding’ we want to hear the whole story!” Usopp begs making Chopper nod in agreement.
Looking over at your beloved best friend, he just chuckles and waits for you to speak further.
“Okay, if you insist…”
12 years ago in the East Blue
“You’re not seriously going to Dadan’s place again, are you?” Ace taunts the small Luffy, who remains crouched in the bushes, pulling any plant that looks like a flower.
“Of course I am, I promised Y/n I’d bring her flowers everyday.” Young Luffy exclaims, as he ties the specially curated bouquet with a broken vine he found laying on the floor.
“Don’t give Y/n that!” Sabo exclaims, wacking the bouquet from Luffy’s hands. “That vine is poisonous!”
“Ouch, ouch, ouch! It hurts!” Luffy begins to sob, waving his stinging hands around, a reddish rash colouring across his palms.
“You idiot!” Ace scolds. “Let us do it.” Ace grumbles as the two brothers begin to pick out plants for a new bouquet of flowers. “What will it take for you to stop picking these stupid flowers everyday and focus on your pirate training?”
“For her to marry me.” Luffy answers, as he continues to blow air on his itchy hands.
“Fine then, Sabo and I will arrange for your wedding ceremony and then you can finally stop doing this stupid crap everyday.”
“Are you guys serious?!” Luffy exclaims excitedly, his giggles making Ace shudder with creeping awkwardness at his love sick brother.
“Uh huh, sure.” Sabo sighs dismissively, tying off the new bow.
Climbing up the final step, you land on the treehouse entry in your cleanest formal dress as requested by the three boys.
There you saw Ace waiting at the front, his foot tapping impatiently along the wooden plank.
“Hurry up already, we’ve been waiting ages.” Ace hurries you along. Looping his arm through your own and pulling you through the entry.
“This is stupid-Luffy isn’t going to stop visiting me daily just because of a fake wedding ceremony.” You scold the older boy.
“The idiot doesn’t know the difference, just do it would ya?” Of course the question is redundant as Ace shoves you through the entry door and straight into the hideout.
“Dun-dun-dunddun-dun-dun-da-da.” Sabo hums to ‘Here Comes the Bride’ flicking his fingers in the air as if conducting an invisible, silent, orchestra. You could just about laugh at the scene before you.
The boys clearly took the silly celebration seriously.
There’s random bunches of flowers, a make shift wedding arch with a clean dressed Luffy.
You figured, you might as well take the ceremony as seriously as the boys took it.
“Wait, what about the flower girl?” You ask teasingly, to which Ace stomped to the nearest rose. Ripping off the head and throwing the petals to the floor.
“There.” He says bluntly, looping his arm back around yours and tugging you along the ‘aisle’, as you take dramatic steps for your performance.
Arriving at the alter, you’re met with an excited Luffy, who is so filled with energy, he’s practically bouncing in place, which you couldn’t help but giggle at. “Lady and Gentlemen, we are gathered here today to join Y/n and Luffy as husband and wife. If anyone objects, speak now, or forever hold your peas.”
“It’s peace.” You object.
“Why would it be peace? You can’t hold peace, but you can hold peas, so it must be peas.” Sabo justifies as Luffy hums in agreement.
“Oh, that makes sense.” Luffy says as you roll your eyes.
“Luffy do you take Y/n as your-“
“Yep!” Luffy yelps excitedly, his eagerness makes him jitter faster in his place.
“Y/n do you take Luffy as your lawfully wedded husband, to love in sickness and in health until death do you part?”
“I vow to love Luffy even after death.” You say this to tease Luffy, but any of your cold taunting flies right over his head.
“… then I now pronounce you husband and wife, you may kiss the bride.”
As you turn to peak Luffy on his cheek, he smacks a big ole’smooch to your lips. His cheeky smile flashing towards your shocked face.
Without a second to spare, Ace begins to pellet you both with dried rice, with as much force as he could muster.
To which you break out into a squeal running for cover in a fit of laughter.
“Ace you jerk!” Luffy yells in anger. Running towards his brother and tackling him to the ground.
The two roll on the floor, tussling and grabbing at each-other.
Sabo jumps on top of Luffy and Aces trying to break the two up.
Present Day
“Stop it! I can’t handle the crippling loneliness anymore!” Frankly cries again, Robin turns to comfort Franky again as he continues to blow his nose into the hanky.
“What an exquisite story teller you are! I felt like I was there. We need a story teller in the crew don’t we Luffy. Y/n can keep a record of our adventures.” Brook lays his compliments on thick, egging Luffy on as he begins to belly laugh.
You smiled awkwardly at the over the top praise.
“Whattya say Y/n? Wanna join my crew?” Luffy asks, his huge infectious smile crossing his face.
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If you have the means to, tips are always appreciated.
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wh0reforcoriolanussnow · 10 months
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What The Heart Wants || Young President!Coriolanus Snow x Reader
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GIF by @aemondtargaryen divider by @firefly-graphics
Summary: This marriage was nothing but unhappiness. You always felt like you lived in the shadow of Lucy Gray. But you try to pretend, pretend that this marriage was everything you could have ever dreamed of.
Warnings: little detail of smut
Wc:
Coriolanus Snow Masterlist
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Your fingers play with the ends of your dress that your mother insisted you wear. In your opinion, the dress was abit too tight, short, and the neckline a tad bit lower than what was deemed appropriate for a simple get together with the President, your fiancé.
“Smile Y/n, Smile.” Your mother urges with a forced smile as you roll your eyes. The door suddenly opens as your mother and father immediately stand up. You let out a huff before standing up as well as Coriolanus Snow in all his glory walks in.
He doesn’t even spare your parents a look or you for that matter. He just sits down on the armchair beside yours with a huff. You watch him as he rolls up his sleeves, he had yet to speak. “Lovely too see you again, Evangeline, Festus, and Y/n” He politely nods.
His voice was stern, cold. “Likewise, President Snow, likewise” You mother grins widely, her tone sickly sweet. “Please, call just call me Coryo. You are to be my in-laws soon. Best to cut the formality early on,” He voices out as he leans over and pops a grape in his mouth.
Your knees were crossed as you stare down at your hands. Snow turns his head, finally looking at you. You could feel his gaze from your peripheral vision. A sudden kick to your shin made you groan out loud as your mother gives you a death glare.
Clearing your throat, you face Coriolanus. “What colour do you plan to wear for the wedding day? So you know, I can match,” He stares hard at your face, studying every detail. “White.” Is all he said before facing your parents again as he starts conversation with them on a topic you couldn’t care less about.
~
Snow had always been cold towards you from the moment the two of you started courting each other. It wasn’t a marriage for love, it was arranged. Coming from a high born family in the Capitol, disciplined to be the perfect wife, you were a perfect candidate to become First Lady.
And not to forget how close your parents and his parents were before they died. Coriolanus had changed when he came back from exile. He was no longer the sweet boy you used to remember.
He was now driven with power and authority. You never asked him questions about the details of his exile as peacekeeper during the times you would spend together. He would merely brush it off and tell you never to ask him about it again.
You were never one to listen to Capitol gossip but there were whispers going around about how Snow was in a relationship with his tribute, Lucy Gray. And that she ran away from him just before he returned back. You remember seeing the two together on camera, there always seemed to be a certain chemistry between the two that not much people paid attention to. But you.
He seemed completely closed off when you first met him after his banishment. He was always drifting in and out of reality. You had a feeling he wasn’t over Lucy Gray. No matter how much she hurt him for leaving.
“Coryo,” Your voice was gentle as you place a hand on his arm. He was out of it again. “She asked what flavour cake you wish to have,” You slowly say as his eyes were stuck to the wall behind the woman sat across from them. “Whatever flavour you want.” He shrugs. Before you could open your mouth again, he beats you to it.
“Is this really necessary? I have other important things to be doing right now.” He snaps, unfolding his sleeves as he gets ready to get up. You furrow your eyebrows at him as the woman starts to pack up the papers on the table before you stop her.
“Coryo, you told me you cleared your schedule today.” You fold your arms as he buttons up his jacket, looking at you. “I’d rather be home than here.” And with that, he doesn’t spare you another look and walks away. You watch his figure disappear as you sit back down, defeated.
“Should I continue without President Snow?” Your eyes move to the lady awkwardly sitting there. “Yes, yes you can continue,” You sigh. This was the third time Coriolanus blew these meetings off. Both of you despised the idea of getting married, especially to one another. But it had to be done. For duty.
~
“Oh you look absolutely gorgeous, my love. You’re going to be the prettiest woman Coryo has ever laid eyes on.” You scoff, downing the liquid down as you get ready to walk down the aisle. “Remember, smile!” Your mother points to her smile as you roll your eyes and link arms with your father.
The doors opened and the crowd gasp. You looked ethereal. Perfect. Doll-like. You smiled like you were taught to do and walked with such elegance and poise. Snow’s back was turned to you, but the moment he turned around, you swore you couldn’t breathe for a second.
Coriolanus’ hands were cold against your warm hands. His piercing blue eyes studied your face as words around you drown out. “You may now kiss the bride.” Coriolanus leaned in as did you and your lips touched. The kiss was gentle and didn’t last long. You could tell he was reluctant to kiss you.
He then smiled brightly, turning to face the crowd and your mother’s words come rolling in. Smile. Pretend you’re happy. You both had to act like you were infatuated with one another for the rest of the day until you arrived at Snow’s mansion. Your new home.
The moment you walked through the doors, the façade was over. Coriolanus made a beeline to his study where he slammed the door shut as you stand alone in the hallway, still in your wedding dress. Exhaustion caught up to you so your heavy footsteps led you to your shared room with him.
You were helped out of the dress by servants. The silk slip soft on your skin as you let your hair loose. It was quiet. Too quiet for yo ur liking. You sat at the end of the bed for some time, thinking about everything and anything until the door abruptly opened revealing Snow.
He paused when he saw you, almost forgetting that you two were married now and were going to be sharing the same bed from now on. He sighs before closing the door behind him.
He starts taking his jacket and long sleeve off. “Why aren’t you asleep” He voices out, his back turned to you as you watch his back muscles flex. “I’m not tired,” You said, barely a whisper as Snow turns around, his eyes trained on you. “Suit yourself,” He said before entering the bathroom.
You decided to move up the bed and lean against the backboard of the humongous bed that you and Snow will be sharing. You played with your fingers the entire time Coriolanus was in the shower.
You hear the water jets stop and he steps out, towel hanging around his hips as he has another towel drying his platinum blonde hair. He gets dressed in just boxers before making his way to the bed. He turns off his bedside light and lays on his back. You were still leaned up on the backboard.
Coriolanus then leaned over you and turned your bedside light off before sleeping on his side, back towards you. You stared at the back of his head for a while. “Coryo…” You softly say. You knew he was awake. “Coryo.” You say once again, your hand gently on his shoulder as he sigh and turns to lay on his back. “Y/n. It’s been an exhausting day. Can this possibly wait until tomorrow” He snaps.
“No.” You say in a firm tone that was abit too loud. You took yourself by surprise as Snow raises an eyebrow at you. “We’re married now.” Your tone was bitter. You were becoming just as frustrated as he was with you. A long due reciprocation.
“I’m aware.” He flatly stated, his eyes shifting away from your body to the ceiling. You sensed his unsatisfactory behaviour towards you, and you felt, a feeling that you had become very familiar with recently. Vulnerable. Coriolanus did not want you one bit. You knew that.
But you wanted to atleast pretend that you were going to spend the rest of your life with someone who loved you. But he couldn’t. He just couldn’t do it. A part of you understood that this was obviously wasn’t ideal for either parties, but you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed, like you weren’t enough.
You were always hit on by other eligible males in the Capitol, but when it came to President Snow, you weren’t even remotely spared a glance. So, you decided that tonight, your honeymoon night, to pretend that there is as much passion as you needed to make you feel as though you were marrying the man of your dreams.
“Look at me.” You demanded, watching as Coriolanus beside you slowly tore his eyes away from the ceiling to bore into your face. “Coryo,” You began, moving from the backboard to get closer to him. You leant into him, foreheads touching. You could feel his breathing stagger, his breath began to tremble as if he was straining tears.
"Please," Your grabbed his face desperately, almost beginning to start sobbing yourself, as if your bodies being this close to one another transformed them into one big, contagious product of unfairness and agony—indulging in one another helplessly.
"Please, Coryo, pretend I'm her," you never once thought in your life you would have to beg for a man to worship you the way he did another—before courting the President of Panem, you would have ques of eligible men at your feet—not even having to raise a finger.
"What?" He mumbled back, an unconfident whimper, his eyebrows furrowed—casting a shadow over his vacant eyes, causing his piercing blue eyes to darken.
"I never though I'd have to say this, but " You breathed out, placing a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose, "Pretend I'm her, pretend I'm Lucy Gray Baird. Even if she broke you, atleast you felt something for her." Your voice cracked as the nonchalant popular girl of Panem facade you’d spent your entire life up keeping, having Snow as a publicity accessory, had shattered in his grip.
Coriolanus didn't know what to say. He had never seen you in this state. You didn't know, but he watched you all the time through the cameras around the mansion and around Panem. Snow barely knew how to express his emotions adequately himself, let alone watching you break down.
You were in pain. As if you were swallowing back acid. "I just want to feel loved," You trembled. This was all so new to you, expressing your feelings, confiding to someone. "Even if it takes you having to think about someone else to make me feel like it.l And so, Snow silently agreed.
He took the invitation of being allowed to think about Lucy Gray in his embrace if it made you feel better. Selfish to an extent, but technically, what you wanted from him was equally so. As long as he appreciated your body as if it were a relic, to make her feel something, he'd be able to fantasise about the one thing he'd usually feel guilty about thinking. Lucy Gray crushed his heart. His soul.
Yet he couldn't stop thinking about the girl who betrayed her. And so, you mollified into him as he embraces your frame, kissing you the same way he'd been musing about doing so with Lucy, if he were to ever get the chance again.
Both your tears were the supplement of real passion, the dampness on your faces resembling sweat as tears fell between each aggrieved, desperate kiss.
More desperate, more intimate. You knew what Coriolanus wanted, and you gave in. You allowed him to see Lucy Gray through your eyes. And although they were a completely different colour, Snow swore he saw her eyes gazing back at him for a millisecond; and that was motivating enough.
Now you were both in pieces, too bad puzzles aren't taught how to piece themselves back together.
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ne-videl · 7 months
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𝓾𝓷𝓮𝓺𝓾𝓪𝓵 𝓶𝓪𝓻𝓻𝓲𝓪𝓰𝓮
yandere Poseidon x fem reader
hide your tears and smile, little goddess.
yandere, unhealthy relationships, objectification, angst, power imbalance, depressed reader, forced marriage, poor english, sfw. first half – Poseidon's pov, then yours.
word count: ~1.5k
a/n: hii everyone!! how have you been? I have no ideas. like, absolutely. art block I guess?? anyway, have some of my old stuff. this is my least favorite yandere trope, but I love angst, so sometimes I go for it. by the way, when I first started it, I wanted to write a super idolized fluff but... well, we have what we have, or "why you don't want to marry Poseidon". hehe big booba man hehehe
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the endless ocean is noisy outside the huge windows.
today, the sea sings a memorial service for you.
two people at the altar – the god and his bride.
Poseidon wants to smile rapaciously at her shaking figure.
she's afraid, poor thing. who wouldn't be afraid? he is, after all, the god of all gods, known for his cruel and merciless temper, the lord of the seas.
and she will become his lady very soon.
[name].
her name spreads like ambrosia across his lips.
even her name is so ordinary, so human, as, indeed, everything else about his charming wife.
she was a priestess in Poseidon's temple: in his own, so there's nothing wrong in taking what was already his. he noticed her by accident.
[name] was sitting hunched over, touching some bright flowers with her bruised palms. he liked to visit this temple sometimes: it was quiet and peaceful in the atrium, noisy humans did not flicker before his eyes.
little human girl did not even flinch when he silently stood next to her, only continued to look with big and very sad eyes at the colorful flower bed.
at their second meeting, she greeted him.
at the third time, she dared to start an idle conversation.
the fourth, and she talked about life in the temple.
at the fifth time she asked why he was coming here.
Poseidon always stood silently next to her, looming over her like a suffocating shadow. he was amused by her chattering, and, unexpectedly for himself, found her presence soothing, pleasant, unlike other humans, the mere sight of whom made the eye of the deity twitch.
life was bad for her in the temple.
[name] told him, she was sent to this place when she was still a girl, and she spent her whole life by the cold blue sea.
new head of the temple did not like her, saying that there was nothing for women to do here. that she should get married, but who needs her?
Poseidon saw the marks of beatings on her girlish body.
so he took her with him. she served in temple made in his name, spent her short life at his domain – it is quite natural that she will become his wife.
of course, it is unheard of that god marries a human – but does he really need someone's approval?
ʚ♡⃛ɞ ______
Hades advised to propose to her. it's the way humans do it.
Poseidon did not ask for her consent, for him it was just a formality: of course she would say yes, he was sure.
he will dress her in the finest silks, she will own the most beautiful jewels on all Olympus, the sea itself would be at her feet – how could a human girl want more?
smile spreads across his face as he sees her eyes widen, as she begins to shake – no doubt, from embarrassment – and his palm rests protectively on top of her head.
of course she agreed, how could it be any other way?
his fiancee is incredibly sweet. but weak and naive at the same time, like the rest of the human race. but he will protect her, give her a better life.
she must be very grateful to him.
ʚ♡⃛ɞ ______
Poseidon remembers their wedding well, how [name] looked in amazement at the beauty of Atlantis, at the greatness of his seas.
in white robes, with downcast eyes, she swore an oath binding her life forever to a cruel deity, accompanied by singing of nymphs and the sound of the ocean.
she was now a goddess herself, whether she wanted to or not. of course, she wanted to, it couldn't be any other way. she loves him.
and, as the new lady of the seas, she will spend her now eternal life by his side. Poseidon will make sure of this no matter what.
she fearfully puts her small palm into his, while he, her husband, leads her through the corridors of the palace. [name] is silent. probably still embarrassed.
from now on, she will be the most beautiful ornament of his possessions, the shining pearl of Atlantis – his precious property, belonging only to him. and the sparkling ring on her tiny finger was proof.
ʚ♡⃛ɞ ______
"wife." – [name] immediately turns around, smiles, comes closer.
his hand rests on her waist, his grip firm, possessively strong. she doesn't notice.
or pretends not to notice.
over time, [name] got used to him, cheered up, blossomed. it couldn't have been any other way, right?
songs, dances appeared, bright flowers and ringing laughter in the cold and empty corridors.
she became friends with his brothers, was able to conquer the proud Aphrodite, whom she now called her friend with visible joy.
Poseidon is pleased to consider himself a good husband.
he loves to see his wife smiling, laughing.
even if it's not just with him. it's better to be patient for a while, he thinks, than to lose her cheerful chatting for the whole evening.
though, she's cute even when she's angry.
Poseidon was gentle with her. allowed her much, much more than others, even spoiled her. [name] was his wife, after all, so he had to make sure she looked good enough.
he's a good husband.
[name] never contradicted him, never raised her adorable voice at him, never was not too selfish.
although deep down, he would like her to become more spoiled. so that, like him, she would not tolerate anyone's presence, except, of course, her husband.
to think of it, why would she need anyone besides him? she can be quite happy within the walls of the palace.
Poseidon dismissed these thoughts from himself – for some reason, his wife liked to be in society, even if without him.
well, he's willing to put up with her quirks as long as she knows who should come first for her.
ʚ♡⃛ɞ ______
the outfit given by Aphrodite was very becoming to his spouse. Poseidon loved to see her beautiful.
in luxurious clothes, undoubtedly worthy of the wife of a sea god, or in the warm candlelight in the night darkness of their shared bedroom, happy or shedding tears, [name] was equally beautiful.
the precious treasure of Atlantis.
he was never moved by her tears – even if she was crying, of course she loved him anyway. [name] is happy. so why make a big deal about it?
none of the pathetic mortals could take care of her like he did. none of them would love her the way he does.
"you are my wife. you're not going anywhere."
ʚ♡⃛ɞ ______
you didn't tell anyone about your sorrow: didn't share it with anyone – neither with Aphrodite, nor with the nymphs and mermaids, your husband's brothers remained in the dark too.
a little human girl shedding tears by the huge waves.
an unhappy goddess, forever imprisoned in an cold palace, surrounded by hypocritical deities, in the iron grip of an unloved husband, eaten alive by sadness and suffocating hopelessness of her position.
none of them saw you as an equal: you were only a curious little thing, a way to dispel eternal divine boredom, and the Olympians, of course, did not bother to hide this fact.
you didn't know what your husband found in you, and you didn't want to. sometimes you wished that back then, many, many years ago, he would have left you in that temple, or that you would run from the garden in terror, or anything. anything.
ʚ♡⃛ɞ ______
you knew your place well.
by his side, always, no matter what. from the very day when you stood at the altar and did not dare to raise your eyes to your fiance, you were no longer anything human.
from that moment, you became an ornament, a property, a beautiful doll. nothing more.
Poseidon wanted to see you happy – and you smiled, laughed, you did everything that you thought he would like.
are you satisfied? please tell me you're happy. I'm scared.
scared.
your husband allowed you the freedom he thought his property could have, and you greedily soaked up every drop of it.
you're lucky, you told yourself, you're very, very lucky. It could have been worse. any other girl would give her soul to be in your place, – repeated, looking at your own reflection in the cold glitter of jewelry.
you must be like it yourself. a thing. a thing, of course, must have an owner, and a thing cannot be sad.
Poseidon's cold hand rests on your waist, pulls you into his arms, and you do not allow yourself to resist: you exhale into his neck, placing your small palms on his broad back.
your spouse is purring contentedly.
he's happy. you can relax a little.
ʚ♡⃛ɞ ______
sea nymphs comb your hair, weave pearls into thin braids, fold strands into an intricate hairstyle.
"what's bothering you, madam?" – the lady of the seas does not bother to answer, your dead calm gaze wanders over the high ceilings, walls and huge windows of your chambers.
a common topic of idle conversation among the Olympians was Poseidon's boundless adoration for his charming wife. cruel god who fell in love with a mere mortal – what a beautiful story.
even the ocean itself seemed to dote on you. whenever the warm waves caressed your feet on the coast, your dried-up insides were filled with melancholy. your body was here, in Atlantis, which became a prison for you, and your soul, which remained to pain in your chest human, floated far away. your tired mind wandered, and you are a little girl again, and once again the bright sun warms your childishly plump cheeks, and in your hands are colorful flowers, and the kind grandpa from the temple strokes your head.
Poseidon will be coming for you soon – as always.
as always, you will talk about something, laugh, sitting on his lap in the throne room. or in one of the living rooms, or in the bedroom – you were not allowed to leave him without permission.
you flinched when you felt his strong hand on your shoulder.
Poseidon smirked.
his wife is not going anywhere. she will stay with him.
forever.
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not the best one of my works but uh well I felt like posting something
maaybe will be deleted since it doesn't look as good as I thought it would be in english
btw thinking about writing tartaglia fic soo the next one is probably gonna be genshin man again
thanks for reading!!
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farmerstarter · 1 year
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The Bachelors on their Wedding Day
Hi Hello have this short list of my little Headcanons of the bachelors on their wedding day. Hope you enjoy it! Reblogs and likes are appreciated!!🌷🤍
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ʚ🏈ɞ ˚ · . Alex :
🏈 Fiddles with his tie relentlessly and ends up ruining it. He runs to Evelyn to ask her to tie it up again. The only other thing he fusses over is his hair.
🏈 Alex keeps a rabbit's foot in his pants, wanting all the luck he can get.
🏈 Spent literal days writing his wedding vows. Ends up opting to wing it. It wasn't the most eloquently worded thing you've heard but it was sweet.
🏈 He gave himself a pep talk in his bedroom before the ceremony. You only know about this because George was complaining about how loud he was to you.
🏈 Dusty the dog is the mermaid pendant bearer, I decided.
🏈 Also, the song that plays during the wedding is the same tune from Alex's music box. 🥺
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ʚ🪶ɞ ˚ · . Elliott :
🪶Beach wedding. You guys have a beach wedding. You've expressed your interest in one and Elliott, with the eager help of Willy, clean up the beach for your special day. Elliott's shoes would fill with sand but his discomfort is overpowered by his delight when he sees you all dressed up.
🪶 He reads you one (of many) of his poems about you. You later learned that he's got a whole book of poetry about you that he's been writing ever since you two started dating. The poem he read on the wedding day was the very first one and is the first page of the book.
🪶 He spent hours trying to make himself look good. Asking for Leah and Willy's input on what he should wear for a solid 3 hours.
🪶 Aside from him worrying over his appearance, Elliott is more excited than nervous. He's on the verge of creating a new chapter in his life with someone else. Gone are the days of his lonely shack and the empty (well, not as empty since you moved into town) beach. Honestly, to say that he's excited is an understatement.
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ʚ🛩️ɞ ˚ · . Harvey :
🛩️ Gets awfully shy when reading his vows, stuttering his way through his words and being a blushing mess. He has no problem with the one-on-one check up sessions he does with the other villagers of Pelican Town, but to read aloud in front of all of them at once threw him off. But he kept his eyes on you and managed to power through it.
🛩️ He considered shaving off his mustache for the wedding at least twice. But he decided against the idea.
🛩️ Insisted that you eat Farmer's Brunch the morning of the wedding. Even during your wedding day, he wants to make sure you're feeling healthy.
🛩️ Holds your hands throughout the whole ceremony. Whispering apologies for how clammy his hands are.
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ʚ🎸ɞ ˚ · . Sam :
🎸 He wrote a whole song about you and played it on your wedding day. He made it a surprise for you and the moments of him hiding his guitar and shoving music sheets under his bed when you visit his room were all starting to make sense to you.
🎸 Couldn't sleep for the whole night before the wedding. He worried over the ceremony and wanted to make it go smoothly. He's not one to meticulously plan every detail, opting to engage in spur of the moment decisions, but he tried his best to make everything as close to perfect as he can get.
🎸 Jodi tried to gel Sam's hair back, but no matter the amount of gel and hours, his hair would always spring back. Sam wasn't a fan of dressing up in a "dorky suit" but he did anyway, for you.
🎸 Sam didn't want to see you until the wedding so he got Vincent to play messenger for the two of you. He wouldn't do it at first but only agreed to do it because he likes you (Cue a dramatic gasp from Sam).
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ʚ🐸ɞ ˚ · . Sebastian :
🐸 Ends up smiling through the whole ceremony, looking at you with such a brightness in his eyes.
🐸 He isn't one to wear anything fancy. The closest thing he ever wore that is considered formal was the suit that Lewis got him and the rest of the dancers to wear for the Flower Dance. He asks his mom to help him dress up for the wedding, asking her about it while she was building furniture. Sebastian doesn't want to admit it, but he liked watching his mom so happy over something that was so mundane to him. He makes sure to keep the suit in perfect condition throughout the ceremony because of it.
🐸 He tells his very heartfelt wedding vows. And while he does, you could hear the faint "that's good," from Elliott before a grunt, inevitably elbowed on the side by Leah.
🐸 You and him ride on his motorcycle after the wedding. He drives you two to the cliff overlooking the city, the same cliff where he confessed his true feelings to you. Under the full moon, the two of you would look at the stars with Sebastian occasionally pointing at a constellation that Maru taught him to find.
🐸 Consider: winter wedding.
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ʚ🐣ɞ ˚ · . Shane :
🐣 Genuinely doesn't believe that you want to marry him. He thinks it's a dream at best and a prank at worst. It wasn't until you were tying his mermaid pendant around his neck for him to know that you do love him. He still has trouble understanding it sometimes.
🐣 Shane asked Marnie to teach him how to waltz for your wedding day. Sure, he's danced in the Flower Dance countless of times but he wanted to learn something new to surprise you. And he did. After dancing with you, he dances with Jas. Well, it's more of Jas standing on Shane's feet while he walks and glides around.
🐣 He gave his chicken, Charlie, a bow tie for the wedding and everything. Even got a picture of you and Shane with the little guy. The picture ends up being hanged on Shane's side of the bedroom for many years to come.
🐣 Has his pocket full of corn chips, let's be honest. He offers one to you before the ceremony starts.
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dressonsale31 · 5 months
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luveline · 1 year
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Hello! Would it be alright to request something where prince!steve and his Princess attend their first formal event together?
tysm for requesting ♡ prince steve au
"Don't spill anything," Steve advises under his breath. "Your corset is alabaster." 
"I know. I feel like breathing the wrong way is gonna crack it like papier mache." 
He snorts, adjusting your hand on his arm to the correct position where you stand around a corner from the grand staircase. You wince as rich laughter bounces off the marble steps, the sound wrought with a feeling akin to hounds snapping at your heels. 
"Your nails look nice," Steve says. 
He's already complimented your face, your hair, and your dress. There's not much left to praise, but he finds something anyhow, and a flush of pleasure warms your skin. "Thank you," you say, looking down at your painted nails, a shimmering mother of pearl lacquer coating each one. The cost rivals a month's groceries. "They had so many colours… we started with red, but I thought it looked silly on me. My hands are weird." 
"Your hands are perfect." His eyes shine with sincerity, lips pulled into an amused smile that feels like a well-aimed bop to the chest. "I can get you more. Nail lacquer, I mean. There's a small Sri Lankan boutique by Cordelian House, they have all that intricate cosmetic stuff. It's where Munson gets his kohl sticks." He smiles at you reassuringly. "I'm trying to distract you. It's not working, is it?" 
"I'm going to mess up. Your mom– the queen–" 
"You can call her my mom. That's what she is." Steve nods his understanding of the things you've said without saying them. "She'll be disappointed if you mess up. But I won't be. I'm proud of you for even putting on the dress. I'd be proud of you if you didn't." 
You lick your lips, cherry balm sticky on the tip of your tongue. "Thank you, Steve." 
He says things like this with little regard for how forward it is. Not that subtlety is required. While antiquated in some aspects, the contemporary royal society is loudly lustful. You and Steve could be intimate together now weeks before the wedding and nobody would bat an eye, but you suspect that he's just as unprepared for that as you are, no matter how gently he covers your hand with his. 
There's a short sound like a bird call. Steve straightens his back, his thumb drawing a half circle across your fingers. "Ready?" he asks. 
You nod. You don't really have a choice. 
They announce you together, Prince Steven and his Soul Marked Y/N. It sounds ridiculous to hear his name after weeks of Please, call me Steve, or anything else but Steven. Doubly so to hear you announced as his and not yourself. A simple 'Miss' would have sufficed. Braced for a night of similar small agonies, you hold tight to Steve's arm and begin your descent down the grand staircase and into the foyer. The palace is a structure of white stone that shines silver in some lights, impossible walls of selenite and gauzy silks. The steps are more solid, a plain marble that clicks under the soles of your short heels. 
"Don't let me fall," you say under your breath, the hush of the crowd nearly occluding your voice completely. 
"Never." You can hear his polite smile. "Don't panic." 
You can't not panic, sweat at your naked collar, pearls like beads of ice bobbing with each step you take. The second you reach the floor you deflate with an exhale, your back clicking at the sudden decompression. There's a brief round of applause at your arrival before the cheery music begins anew, the dancing begins again, and the many faces that surround you blur into jewels and elegant clothes, fabrics coloured manilla white, snailshell purple, emerald green, a rainbow of satins swirling this way and that as girls are pushed into spins to the right of the foyer under the ballroom chandelier. 
"You'll dance with me, yeah?" Steve asks tentatively. 
You meet his eyes, all their soft brown gazing at you like you're worth his worry. His lashes twitch as his gaze darts swiftly down and up again. 
"Do I have something?" you ask, lifting your chin. 
"Lipstick. I can fix it?" He brings his hand to your lips before you've answered, using the trimmed nail of his pinky finger to wipe at your lip. You turn still as a porcelain statue, a shiver rushing down your chest at the warmth of his touch.
"You'll dance with me?" he asks again, his knuckle brushing your chin as he drops his hand. 
"Of course I'll dance with you, Steve. We're expected to." 
He throws a glance at the people around you and steps closer. "I want to dance with you because you want to dance. We don't have to do anything. Not this ball, not the dance. Not the wedding." He sighs. "You have choices." 
"No. I don't." Because there glows your wrist. Threads of translucency like spider web and downy feather combined, a sorry hue of blue. 
"Yes, you do," he whispers. "You want to leave? We'll leave right now. I just want you to be happy, and with me." 
You think about it. The weight of hundreds of eyes on your shoulders and the restriction of your corset is making you nauseous. If you left, that sickness would go. But Steve wouldn't get to dance with you.
"I don't want to leave," you say, not sure if you're lying or not. You'd quite like to have his hands on your hips again. And sometimes before the dip he breathes in your ear, says something soft, like Keep going, you got it. 
"No?" he asks, relieved. 
"No. Let's dance. We need the practice…" You offer your hand. He takes it, the smudge of lipstick on his pinky finger like a heart. "I'm sorry. I want to dance." 
"What are you sorry for?" he asks, leaning down to kiss the highest point of your cheek. "Let's dance. If you mess up, I'll mess up worse. I promise. I'll chicken dance in front of everybody." 
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adoringsentiment · 1 year
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townie makeovers: penny pizzazz
everyday hair, earrings, top, watch and sneakers from base game; pants from incheon arrivals kit; nails from spa day; nose piercing from discover university; necklace from poolside splash kit
formal hair from horse ranch; dress from get famous; earrings from get together; necklace and bracelet from my wedding stories; rings from base game and werewolves; nails from spa day; shoes from luxury party stuff
athletic hair from get to work; top from throwback fit kit; shorts from discover university; sneakers from incheon arrivals kit
sleepwear pyjamas from simtimates collection kit
party earrings from dream home decorator; neclace from poolside splash kit; dress from moonlight chic kit; bracelet from base game; shoes from luxury party stuff
swimwear glasses from seasons; top, bottom and shoes from poolside splash kit
hot weather top and bottom from moonlight chic kit
cold weather top from incheon arrivals kit; bottom from dream home decorator; boots from base game
to download penny, my gallery id is adoringsentiment
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behindthesoul · 1 year
Note
hii, dear! could you write a smoke x princess!reader request? (a small detail is that reader's Mileena and Kitana's sister.) but if you can and want, of course. 🥺
Smoke Dating Outworld’s Princess
Masterlist
Tomas swore he heard wedding bells ringing when he first laid eyes on you. His eyes immediately softened, and he couldn’t stop sneaking glances at you.
Kuai Liang encouraged him to talk to you, and just a few short months later, you were together.
Tomas just can’t believe that he has the privilege of courting a royal. His favorite thing to do is call you your highness. He finds it funny when you roll your eyes and laugh, before telling him to drop the formalities.
If you ask him to join you at any formal events, his eyes will widen. Even if you’ve been together for years, he’s still shocked that you want to show him off at royal banquets.
You haven’t had many opportunities to speak to Kuai Liang, so you don’t know him too well. On the flip side, Kuai knows everything about you. He knows your favorite color, your favorite food, and the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to you; all because Tomas never stops gushing about his princess. Kuai smiles and nods during these moments. He’s happy for his brother, but doesn’t understand why he has to know your shoe size.
A princess seemingly has never ending duties, and a Lin Kuei never rests. The two of you are often busy and cannot meet as much as you’d like. At night, it’s not uncommon for Tomas to sneak into the palace and knock on your bedroom window, asking if he can talk to you. You’ll either let him into your room, and you cuddle until he has to leave, or the two of walk the palace gardens until sunrise. You’re both a little sleepy the next morning.
Being Sindel’s youngest daughter has its challenges. You often feel like you live in your sisters’ shadow. Your mother loves you very much, but her attention is drawn to your eldest sister, the future empress. If you ever feel insecure in your place in the royal family, Tomas is there to comfort you.
He praises your beauty, your smarts, your kombat skills, and your efforts to help the people of Outworld. He never wants you to feel less than your sisters.
During these moments, he’ll try to jokingly lift your spirits by calling you my empress instead of your highness or my princess.
There comes a time where Tomas wishes to be your husband. He wonders what a royal wedding would be like; will the two of you just have your closest friends and family in attendance, or will all of Outworld bear witness to your ceremony?
He imagines you in the most dramatic wedding dress ever. One created by the finest designers in all the realms, and tailored to your body to fit nice and snug. Tomas knows he’ll cry on your wedding day, but for now he has to hold back tears at the thought, or else you’ll think he’s upset.
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crueisummer · 1 year
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𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬 | 𝓒𝓛16
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pairing: charles leclerc x reader
summary: Kika and Pierre invite you to their engagement party where you meet her and Pierre’s friends from F1, specifically, a certain handsome Monegasque driver.
playlist: ♫ gorgeous ♪ delicate ♬ i think he knows ♡ you are in love
author's note: Hello everyone! Please be patient as this will be my first fanfic/au. Anyway, this would be part of a series, and each song from the playlist above would be the title of a chapter. I still don't know what to call the series, so if you have any suggestions, please send them my way. Anyway, thanks for reading, and enjoy the story! ✧・゚:૮₍ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა✧・゚:
chapter warnings: a lot of swearing.
word count: 1.7k
disclaimer: All characters and events in this story, even those based on real people, are entirely fictional.
                𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬
01:58 ━━━━●───── 03:29 ⇆ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ↻ ılıılıılıılıılıılı ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮
Your car pulled up in front of the restaurant’s door. Your security guard got out of the shotgun seat and opened your car door. Everyone started to go crazy when they saw you. The lights of the paparazzi’s camera flicking every millisecond, trying to get a photo of every move you make. There’s security on your left and right, protecting you.
The door to the restaurant opened and there was a receptionist holding a clipboard.
"Y/F/N Y/L/N." You smile as you look at her. Their eyes widen and mouth gaped before gesturing for you to go follow the usher. You took an elevator and got off on the rooftop. You walked in and looked around, amazed at the beauty of the place. There were a lot of tables and booths, some afloat on water. There's a lot of people and caterers walking around with food and drinks.
Everyone is dressed in semi-formal attire which made you sigh in relief for your outfit. You are wearing a sparkly sleeveless jumpsuit that showed off your curves and just a bit of your skin.
As you made your way into the party, there were a lot of familiar faces. Celebrities, actors, athletes. You saw Kika and Pierre in a booth in the middle.
"Show me the ring!" You scream as soon as you see your best friend. She turns around and laughs at you.
"Well, hello to you too!" She giggles as the two of you hug. You pull away quickly to see her left hand. A big diamond rock sitting on her ring finger.
"Wow. You sure have taste, Gasly, I'll give you that." You smirked at Pierre and hugged him too.
"Congratulations, you guys! So, am I a bridesmaid?" You joke at Kika, fluttering your eyelashes. You have been best friends for 3 years now, having met at a Louis Vuitton fashion show during Paris Fashion Week. Since then, you and Kika were inseparable. You both understood and supported each other.
"Cut the crap. You know you're maid of honor." She says smirking.
"Oh my god! I love you so much!" You scream and wrap your arms around her. You’ve never been a maid of honor and somewhere in the back of your mind, a memory clicked. You remembered that you and Kika promised to be each other’s maid of honor.
The couple laughs at your reaction and Kika tells you she’ll set up a meeting soon about the wedding, she’s going to be needing help. You nod right away. The grooms are always no help when planning a wedding. Just then, a guy comes up from behind you and greets them.
"Speaking of, here's the best man!" Pierre walks closer to him and does that guy hug thing. The mysterious man was slightly taller than Pierre and was wearing a white unbuttoned shirt and some khaki shorts. He looked good.
"Charles!” Kika greeted. Charl? Is he French? It's the French that don't pronounce the "s" at the end of their names, right?
He kisses Kika's cheeks while he and Pierre talk a bit in French and laugh. You didn't realize you were staring until Kika introduced you to him.
"Y/N, this is Charles, he'll be Pierre's best man." Kika says and you turn to face him. He kind of has a boyish face but his piercing green eyes and stubble that ran from chin to jaw makes him look mature. He looked gorgeous.
"Hi, I’m Charles." He says while extending his hand. He looks into your eyes while talking to you and you almost melted. You shyly look at your hands and look back again at his eyes, to see that he didn’t remove his gaze. Those eyes. How wonderful it would be to get lost in them.
"I’m Y/N." You smile shyly. You were getting shy. You never get shy. You always had the upper hand and was very confident in yourself when meeting new people. But somehow, someway, you can’t say anything.
You take his hand and shake it. You felt like you were drugged when your hands met. It put you on a high, one you want to be in for the rest of your life.
“So happy to finally meet you. You know, they always talk about you and sing your songs, especially Pierre.” Charles says, to make small talk and show that he is friendly and approachable.
“Oh, does he know? He always says my songs are cheesy.” You say while smirking at Pierre, Kika laughing her ass off. “Although I do have a video of him dancing to You Belong With Me.”
Kika’s eyes widen immediately, and the couple looks at each other. Pierre’s face is red from embarrassment. He exclaims, “You told me you didn’t send her the video!”
While the two bickered, you didn’t notice Charles was now standing closer to you. “You know, I would love to have a copy of that video,” He whispers. He was so close that you could smell his perfume.
Before you could reply, Kika is shoo-ing the guys. “Anyway, me and Y/N are gonna do some girl talk now.”
“Look for me later if you want the video.” You whisper to Charles, and he smirks before leaving with Pierre. Charles turns around and winks at you. It caught you off guard, but you smiled. When he looks away and turns back around, you look at Kika and see she was on her phone. Oh my god. The greatest thing that has ever happened to you and your best friend was on her fucking phone.
Kika looks up on her phone and was about to talk to you when she gets dragged into another booth. She looks at you and mouths, “Later.” But you wave her off, you know you can’t hog the host of the party.
You roamed around the party talking to everyone but Charles. You caught up with Kika’s friends; some you met before, some you haven’t. You got along with the other bridesmaids which erased the worry from the back of your mind that you might not get along.
One group of girls were calling themselves “WAGS” and laughing. It seemed like an inside joke, so you whispered to Kika, “What the fuck is a WAG?” and she laughs.
“Wives and girlfriends of professional athletes.” Your face scrunched up in disgust and she nodded her head. “I know, right?”
Good thing Kika was there to tell you that the girls who were calling themselves WAGS are in a relationship with F1 drivers. Kelly and Max, Carmen and George, Heidi and Daniel, Sara and Lance, Lily and Alex, Louise and Kevin, and Egle and Nico.
Some of Pierre’s single friends did try to hit on you, though. But you brushed them off and established being friends with them when they tried to ask you out.
While talking to everyone, you forgot to count how many shots and drinks you’ve been taking. You realized that you were drunk when as you were going to the bathroom, you didn’t take time to adjust to the dimmed lighting and you missed a step and almost fell. Thankfully, a pair of arms came out of nowhere and caught you.
“Est-ce que ça va, mon amour?" Are you okay, love? Charles. You talked to everyone in this party, and this voice you only heard for five minutes but instantly recognize it. He picks you up and you both try to steady yourself.
“Oui, merci.” Yes, thank you. Based on the context of you falling, you assumed that he asked if you were alright. You giggled as you tried your hardest to copy his accent, even though you were flat out drunk.
You lost your balance again and Charles gently set you down to sit on one of the steps. One of his hands going to the small of your back, careful not to hit your back.
Once you were settled, he squats in front of you, a shocked look on his face. He asks, “Tu parles français?" You speak French?
With the dimmed lighting and how close your faces are, you can see just how perfect his face is. He looks like a god.
“What?” You gave up. Your knowledge of the French language only limited to “yes”, “thank you” and “I love you.”
“You understand?” His Monegasque French accent lingering when he talks in English. His grammar is fucking adorable.
“No, I just know a few phrases from travelling to France.” You smile sheepishly. Leaning your head on the wall, “Is it good, though?”
“Yes, yes. Your accent almost fooled me.” He smiles at you. Your stomach is feeling crazy. Is this what it feels like when they say they “have butterflies in their stomach?” Because this feels like a fucking zoo.
“So, I haven’t seen you all night. Have you been ignoring me?” He asks you. You can’t tell if he’s flirting or if it’s a genuine question.
“Hmmm, maybe?” You took a chance and flirted with him. Pretending like you were ignoring his eyes and then looking at him and laughing.
“Why? What did I do?” He pouts. I think he knows that he’s beautiful. Otherwise, he would not have any confidence in pouting in front of a girl, right?
“Hmm, didn’t I tell you to look for me? And not the other way around?” You reminded him.
“Ahh, yes. My apologies, cheri.” He apologizes. His metallic rings startling your warm skin as he takes your right hand and kisses it. You were shocked, eyes wide.
“Can you forgive me, mon amour?” He takes your left hand and kisses it too. With his puppy eyes, he leans closer, still holding both of your hands near his lips.
“I- I-” He looked so gorgeous; you couldn’t say anything. He caught you off guard and your tongue couldn’t form any word. Your brain having a hard time comprehending what was happening.
You nodded your head and he smiled at you. You knew that he was thinking that he had the upper hand, but right now, while he is holding your hands and his face so close to yours, you didn’t mind.
"Apology accepted, mon amour." You try to copy him. His eyes shine when he hears you talk in his mother tongue.
"I have to ask, do you really want Pierre's video, or do you just want my number?" You smirk at him. You try to catch him off guard but he chuckles and smirks back at you.
"Can't a man have both?"
...
↠ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ˢᵒⁿᵍ 𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞
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Can you do a future story for Jin or Luca?
Melodies from the future
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Jin slips to the future for the length of a nap
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Wc: 1,2k
Notes: I really like this even if it's short (let's say it's short because it's supposed to just be a nap m'kay?)
The soft melody of a piano slips in the young master's ears, changing his dreams to distorted memories of his childhood. His first piano lesson was not later than a little after his fourth birthday, when a tall man approached him after tutoring so start teaching the basics of reading music and his very first song. 
The first few lessons he was such a brat, sneaking away to play with his toys until he saw his mother in the music room playing her violin alone, she usually would lull him to sleep after nightmares with a song. Back then he didn't notice it but her little sad comment about wanting someone to duet with her was so obviously a way to get him to sit through his lessons, it's almost embarrassing to recognize it did work and he learned many songs for his mom's sake. 
The slight sliver of conscience the sound opened was just enough to remember that in Frostheim there are no pianos, and even if there were, his own room was soundproof so he wouldn't know if anyone was playing.
That realization plus the horrid noise of the off tempo and very obviously wrong key, strikes Jin out of his sleep, nerves crisp against the soft silk bed sheets.
The half mind that he managed to gather allowed him to recognize how different this room was to his own at Frostheim, an L shaped room with the bed facing a wardrobe on the sharp angle.
Walking out of the bed and to the wardrobe trying to find the exit he catches for a second the reflection of his face on the full length mirror adjacent to the wardrobe and sticky disgust lingers on the base of his tongue and back of his throat for a minute. His white hair dusted with a few stray gray hairs just behind his ears, and some wrinkles starting to carve themselves around his eyes and his forehead. It's not the sudden aging causing him to step away from the reflection but just how much he looked like his father, as a child and even now, he always got told that he looked just like his dad but he never managed to see it beyond sharing hair and eye color until now, a splitting image. 
Deciding to not mull over that, there is a lot of time before this mess happens, something inside him insists. He watches some photos hung around the wall and wrapping around the corner, most are of white haired children uncannily similar to himself during different milestones, like walking or school graduations or a few ones where they were dressed formally enough for a gala. 
Following the flow of the photos around the wall, he finds himself mesmerized briefly for no more than one second with each and every photo, but the biggest picture and possibly centerpiece of the homemade gallery was one with with him and the honor student posing inside an old catedral, both wearing white wedding attire, wisteria and white roses adorning the venue. Was it Clementia? It's unlikely, it looked too clean and tidy, unlike how it looks after the incident.
In as much of a trance he found himself beholding the picture, a golden glimmer captured his attention. It's a gold wedding band, almost on instinct he puts it in his left ring finger and maybe it was something embedded inside his being after years of cohabitation… where did that even come from? The closest thing to cohabitation is how much time Thoma spends around him.
As he turns around to leave he notes there are two doors, one leading to a balcony and the other he supposes leads to the rest of the house. 
Walking through the marble tiles, his feet fall at the same time that the inexperienced rhythm of twinkle twinkle little star is played. Following the sound he finds himself in the family music room where he learned to play. Was he in his family home? The floor lay out did seem somewhat similar but the paint and furniture changed quite a bit. He guesses it's natural, if he himself aged for things to not remain the same, maybe should be even offsetting if they did.
A white haired child is seated in front of the big tail piano playing nervously for the audience that was his parent and baby brother. His nerves were so noticeable that it seeped into the music, an apprentice’s first but green attempts.
“Do it again, but this time with confidence” his voice echoes into the room, scaring the child into playing the wrong key.
“Looks like dad finally woke up, huh?” A teasing voice speaks from the couch and as their head turns around to face him Jin sees your face once again, a few years older than the photo in the bedroom and a lot older than your academy self he is used to, but still you after all “his grampa got him a piano teacher and wanted to show me what he learned. Maybe you could refresh on your own skills”
“Really, dad plays?” The child jumps in interest and tugs him by the hand towards the piano. Was it honest interest or did he simply not want to play anymore? “Play something for me!”
“What about what you chose for our first dance?”
“Salut d'amour” his words slip from between his lips before even thinking about a wedding. He did seem to be correct as you smiled complacently while hugging the year old in your lap.
Did he truly choose that? Even thinking about that song playing during his wedding and being the one who chose it made him feel like he was a whipped sappy loser like that blond second year yet at the expectant look of ‘his son’ and yours he obliges, it's a short piece after all, he reasons.
It isn't far after he starts playing that the five year old sits down next to him and perches himself on his arm, eyeing how he moves his hands majestically, even after all those years without training. 
“don’t pull on your dad's arm” without a noise you stand behind him while holding the kid he saw in one of the family photos. 
Breathing in, his eyes close and the unusual burn in his lungs itches from the inside but like sand slipping from his hand with the wind, the next time he opens his eyes he is seated on the couch looming over the coffee table. Almost at the same time Thoma enters with a tray and teapot.
“Abusing bhavishy incense again? I don't think you need another excuse to sleep more” and almost as if Thoma’s words were what he needed to puzzle it together and not the very clearly lit powdered incense holder letting off a pinkish mist “you should open a window, you are going choke on fumes”
He got his hands on a new batch of an artisan's mix and wanted to try it out, he remembers his simple motive of being bored and it being more interesting than annoying Thoma with tasking him to find some musician that never existed. 
His thoughts get stringed together slowly and carefully, still a bit out of it thanks to the fumes but it gets easier to think as Thoma opens the balcony door wide open, letting in Frostheim notoriously cold breeze to clean out the strawberry scent.
“I never took the captain for someone to be interested in love affairs, but at last it seems I have a lot to learn about you”
“Just shut it, you are making my head hurt”
“Are you flustered?”
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