#but the other option for that is imagining her in a wedding dress and that is just. what. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

targaryenrealnessdarling · 1 year

Note

I love your writing!! Could you do a short 1 or 2 part fiction based on this prompt: a highborn girl is to become Aemond's wife but she is a mute. Her other senses are well even though she isn't able to speak. She is youngest in her family and is extremely shy. No fiery bone in her body. Alicent coaxes her son into being betrothed to her due to Alicent having issues with high-born ladies not wanting to marry the prince due to his eye missing and his tendency to have a temper. They bond over reading and Aemond is enthralled with her beauty. Also Aemond never is a kinslayer in this story lol. Thank you!

Her Voice

Summary: You are introduced with the prince as his second option for a marriage in your family. But how will the Prince react to you own affliction | Mini-Series Masterlist

Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Aemond Targaryen Taglist

A/N: I changed the request up a little and it's strange that I got this ask because I do actually have a stutter myself that was debilitating growing up, so I tried to shoehorn some feelings that I felt myself into this character, but hopefully I still did it justice (and I made it more about her intelligence cos I think Aemond would find that hot)?

Thank you for the request anon! Also thank you all for your love and comments I really love them! I can’t comment on them since this is a side-blog, but I appreciate you all!

Warnings: none, just fluff, Aegon being Aegon

"Do you think that any highborn woman with a brain between her eyes would desire to spend the rest of her life with a tempestuous prince?"

Alicent was circling the room, hands smoothing over one another to keep herself calm, doing this in exchange of picking at her fingernails, which her father hated. And with Otto sat brooding in the corner of the room, Alicent chose her actions wisely.

Aemond barely resisted the urge to roll his eye, one hand rested on one side of his face, disinterested. Another reprimand for his temper, his behaviour. He didn't realise his mother had it in her to keep on doing this for so long, especially after having a son like Aegon. But even then, her solution had been to marry him to his sister, and it was clear how well that ended. And how Aegon's actions persisted.

"Perhaps if they were not so empty-headed they would know to leave me be"

"Like it or not, you will be wed" Otto butted in, resulting in Aemond sending an annoyed glare, "It has been difficult enough to introduce ladies to you"

"Because they think me a monster" Aemond retorted, one hand gripping the arm of the chair beside him. His mother was still pacing around, a million thoughts banging around in her brain, working endlessly on how to resolve this. In truth, he did not enjoy seeing his mother in such distress and his heart to see her in this way more often than not.

"That is not true, Aemond" Alicent's voice was soft, as if he were still a child.

"True enough that it whispers through the court"

"A marriage and children with her would mean security in the Reach" Otto said simply. His mind forever focussed on matters political and never of the heart. Alicent was proof of this and at this quip, Aemond could see the discomfort it bought her.

"I do not wish to marry that loud-mouthed half-wit"

Every time Aemond protested, he could see his mother begin pacing around the room once more.

"At this rate, half the ladies in Westeros will have met that beast before you"

Aemond extended a hand out with a sigh, "It is no fault of mine that she is scared of Vhagar"

"It nearly landed on top of her, Aemond!" Alicent begged out and Aemond genuinely had to hold back a smile as he imagined Vhagar pinning the girls dress to the ground with her large claw. It had scared the girl stiff and her loud-mouthed was quickly stiffened from the presence of the largest dragon in the world before her. Her face pale as a sheet.

"Vhagar did not like her" he simply responded.

A moment passed in silence and Aemond nearly stood to leave when Alicent crossed her arms, her warm, brown eyes trained at her second son. Half in pride and half in scolding.

"There is of course, another choice" Alicent suggested quietly, taking a side glance at her father.

Now stood before his mother, seeing over her easily, he placed his arms behind his back, a brow was arched in not only question but anxiety at her suggestion.

"She has a younger sister, only half a year younger than you"

Aemond scoffed, "This is desperation"

"It is a suggestion" Alicent corrected. In front of her son, she seemed so small as she took his large hand in both of hers, her rings clicking together to rub her fingers over his skin, "See how you feel"

With a sigh, he took his leave.

There was no harm in trying.

The days seemed to pass the slowest and the Prince busied himself as he usually did, performing his duties. He trained with Ser Criston, he read books on various subjects and he rode on Vhagar in an attempt to tame this temper his mother so wanted gone. One that she thought would be solved by marriage.

But one insufferable thing he could never escape from, was court gossip.

It seemed so rampant and neverending that he wondered if the ladies ever did anything else.

On more than one occasion he heard the ladies talk in hushed whispers when he walked by.

"I heard his dragon almost ate her"

"I do not see what woman would want a man who looks like that"

"I think he looks rather handsome with it"

"Yes, but he has a quarrelsome temper. Blood of the dragon indeed"

"I heard her little sister is to join the court. His dragon may actually swallow her whole with any luck"

"She is a hollow little fool. I heard she has not spoken a word since she was a babe"

He knew better than to listen to any of it. But it seemed to impregnate the walls of the Keep, like a smell that won't go away. Slowly seeping out of the stone to skulk in heavy plunders of smoke across their feet. It smelled of deception and the feeling was so heavy, it was almost liquid.

Like oily blood.

He had barely paid attention to his mother as they all lined up outside the Keep, anticipating the sister's arrival. The older sister had been closest to the dirt road, wanting to see her siblings and father before anyone else. The Royals were all standing shoulder to shoulder at the top of the stone steps, Aemond's eye trained forwards, not focussed on anything in particular. Aegon wishing he were somewhere else, preferably at the end of a barrel of Dornish wine. And Helaena, whose gaze never found anyone's, staring at the ground, watching the ants disappear beneath her slipper.

Alicent almost jumped out of her skin as the lady screamed in delight seeing the familiar colours of her house on the side of the carriage, pulling up to a stop. Aemond's chest inflated and he tightened his grip behind his back, bracing for the undoubtedly emotionally painful exchange he was about to have.

The carriage door flung open and two brothers emerged, clearly a lot older than the sister had been, but nonetheless they scooped her up into a hug. Aemond raised an eyebrow and dared look over at his own brother, who was smiling back at him already, as if suggesting they should hug like that. And at this Aemond did roll his eye.

The three siblings were stuck like this for a moment, talking over and amongst each other like a clutter of turkeys and it was impossible to tell what they were actually saying. The father eventually found his footing outside the carriage, a small figure following small behind him, head lowered. The older sister wrapped her arms around her father's neck but she was quickly pushed away, and not a single one of them seemed to address the youngest, who blindly followed her father.

"Queen Alicent" the father addressed, taking her hand in his to kiss at the ring.

"My Lord, how nice it is to see you and your…family again" she swallowed her words and her roundabout manner made Aegon smile somewhat.

"And you, your Grace. I hope my daughter has been a grateful guest"

There was a faint echo in the background of her horrific laugh, the father closed his eyes slowly, bracing himself for the sound of it.

Alicent merely smiled, "I understand we are to receive your other daughter"

The father stepped aside, but the figure still remained relatively hidden, "Yes, although she is the slowest of my daughters, your Grace. She…finds it difficult to speak"

The father looked behind him again and gripped his other daughter's arm and Aemond noted how hard he held her, so much so that when he tore away the marks remained. And he wondered if he was so rough with his other daughter, the one he thought was the grace of his house.

The girl was presented before Alicent. Yes she shared features with her sister, but hers were much were smoothed out. Her sister, while sharp featured and cheeks plump, her eyes were too close together and her nose seemed unfit for her face. This sister however, her cheekbones were higher and eyes were almond-shaped and she had a faint mole next to her eye on one side.

Her eyes briefly met Alicent's and sent a small smile and a curtsy, doing the same to the Princes and Princess, but never really meeting any of their gazes directly.

"Your Grace, my youngest"

Aemond almost scoffed, he didn't even have the decency to address her by her birth name.

"As I say, your Grace, she is quite slow but her mind is nimble, her other senses remain…unaffected"

All the young woman could do was listen to her father's cruel words about her, her hands were clasped in front of her, one finger fiddling with a golden ring that was on a forefinger. Aemond's gaze raked over her form, the dress she wore just being a bit too tight and he wondered if it might have been in her ownership for a while and had grown too big for it. This made her chest swell against the fabric and her could not help but admire the way she fit into it as she inhaled and exhaled, the golden necklace against her chest moving as well.

It was as if she could feel his burning eye on her and her hand raised to her necklace to turn the pendant over, her gaze briefly meeting the one-eyed Prince's before her cheeks became flushed and averted instantly. In a strange turn of events, it made Aemond smirk, knowing that someone would blush in his presence.

"If you'd like to follow me, I can introduce you to the King" Alicent stepped side to side with her father, "Perhaps your children might amuse themselves"

Her father turned to face his children, a haggard expression on his face, "Make yourselves scarce"

The young woman merely watched as her siblings waltzed away without her, no doubt to drown themselves in drink. And she stood for a moment watching them enjoy themselves before feeling a hand grasp her elbow to find Aegon's face close to hers. She made a surprised sound.

"Extraordinary" he murmured, pulling the poor thing to walk with him, "How much I would give to have a woman who did not speak back"

She attempts to push herself away, but he was much stronger.

"I bet that mouth is as disgusting as those whores on the Street of Silk"

A hand clamped at Aegon's shoulder, shoving him away and the woman looked back to find Aemond parting the two with his body, a hand brushing against her arm to place her behind him.

"Brother, I do not think she desires your company"

With a focussed eye zoned in on his brother, Aemond failed to notice that she had himself wrapped his hand around her wrist. A wave of heat rose to her face s she looked down and saw how his large fingers easily took her, feeling the sheer body heat of the Prince next to her, so much so that she was able to smell the various musks that had attached themselves to him. A faint smell of leather from his clothes, whatever he used for his long, illustrious hair and then something akin to being around an animal. Was this what dragon smelled like? She wondered if he had been riding before meeting her family.

His touch was easily softer than Aegon's grip had been, and for this she was grateful. He had been the first man to lay a hand on her that had not been forceful. The brothers continued to bicker.

"She is not deaf, Aegon. She can hear you"

"Deaf or not, she is a simpleton. If you are to marry her, do yourself a favour and find comfort in others, as I do"

All the blood seemed to rush to your ears in embarrassment and you tore your wrist away from the prince, turning swiftly on your heel in the other direction, away from the harsh words you had unfortunately become accustomed to. Your steps were swift as you heard Aegon cackle with laughter, but you did not see Aemond's saddened stare bore into your back.

With a book clutched longingly to your chest and the echoes of your already drunken siblings echoing down the halls, you pushed a hand to the library door, finding comfort in the quiet of this room in the chaos that was the Red Keep.

It had of course, not been your first time here. You had accompanied your sister on her journey many moons ago, and even then you felt the stares of those at the court boring into you like a flame. The hushed whispers of those were not lost on you, perhaps they also thought you were deaf. But it didn’t matter. You heard the horrible things the ladies said about you and equally, the awful things the men said as well. Although some of those had been about other matters.

Contrary to popular belief, you were not entirely mute. A lot of it was purely by choice. And you had become accustomed to the silence, for simply trying to speak, becoming out of breath and tight about the chest, gave you more anxiety than simply saying nothing at all.

You sighed in relief, finding the library completely empty and almost just how you had left it all those months ago, when you had come here for relief after your sister had accustomed herself to the ladies.

The book, which you had been in the middle of reading last time you were here, was still perched on top of the fireplace in the heart of the room, with a piece of paper sticking out in the spot where you had been rudely torn away. Your hand grazed over the cover, feeling all the intricacies of the people who may have read it before you. The spine was slightly worn away, and the fabric that coated the front page was discoloured. But it was the book smell that enticed you so and you opened where you were to bring to the pages to your face.

It smelled like home. Like a solitary childhood.

It reminded you of who you were.

Someone so disenchanted with life that they would lose themselves in books, fiction or not.

You lifted your skirts, inhaling sharply as the corseted part of the gown dug into you for being too small. Your father refused the request for new dresses, so you had to make do. After all, it was your older sister who was supposed to be enamouring the Prince, not you. So what need was there for fine dresses.

The chair hugged you, its fabric arms tucking you in like a bed and you laid the book before you to pick up where you had left off, the only sound in the room being the flickering of some candles and the uncomfortable sound of your finger tracing the next page.

You had been so interested in your book, the large oak doors opened without a reaction from you.

"I know you are not deaf, my Lady"

The voice startled you, and your head popped round the back of the chair to see the Prince standing closely, smirking and arms tucked behind him. A surprised sound left you as you stood, the book that had been placed on your lap hurtling to the floor as well as a small notebook you had been clutching. Your cursed yourself for the clumsiness but offered him a curtsy all the same before bending to retrieve the books.

He seemed to move too quickly for his stature and had his hand flat on the book before you had even reached out. Turning it over he smiled, bringing the book with him stand,

"Ah, so it was you"

You grasped the small notebook in your hand and stood to meet his gaze, eyes slightly wide with fear. As if he had caught you in his grasp.

He let out a small laugh, which seemed uncharacteristic for him, "Do not worry. I merely found it"

He placed the book down on the table and looked back at her. Even though he had one eye, it seemed to rake over her for an eternity before returning to her face.

"Are you afraid, my Lady?" he asked, still smirking.

Realising that she had been gawking, gripping onto her notebook, she shook her head. He seemed satisfied with the answer, only offering a 'Hm' in response as he began pacing the space around her.

"I may have limited vision, but I can see you are not afraid of me"

His back was facing you now, and with his eye not trained on you, you took the opportunity to study him and his form for a moment.

He was tall and his long silver hair trailed over his back, thick and straight. He certainly had that air of intimidation behind him and seemed to dress as such to scare people. In thick black leather with clasps, he almost looked imprisoned in his own clothes, straining against them. All this study of his form made you look down at yourself, wondering what he thought of you. The small woman without a voice, dressed in the clothes she was made several years ago.

"Your sister says I have a temper" he started, turning slowly to meet your gaze. He studied the way the candles flickered washes of amber and yellowish hues onto the side of your face, bringing the flush of your face out even more. How the flames bounced off the colour of your eyes. He wondered; how could someone be so expressive with simply their gaze.

He could not explain it, but you seemed content in the silence between you.

Slowly, as if movement would trigger the man, you opened the small notebook you carried with you, using the strip of charcoal to scribble something down. Aemond smirked seeing how concentrated you looked staring at the pages, how the line in between your eyebrows popped out slightly as you wrote.

You passed him the notebook, pointing at the page. He handled the book with such care that is astonished you, the way his fingers grasped it, there was a sensitivity to it. You swallowed your breath as his eye ran over the page all too slowly.

I do not know you well, but I have seen no temper.

Without moving an inch, his eye met you again and for a moment you worried you had said something wrong. But he softly handed the notebook back to you, watching your every move.

"Is this how you communicate?" he asked genuinely.

You nodded, as if embarrassed. Thinking of something to write down, you quickly flipped to a new page.

He accepted the notebook again once you had done, looking significantly more nervous this time, the charcoal rubbing black on your fingers.

I hope that the suggestion of our marriage does not embarrass you. If it is to be, I will be an amenable wife.

Aemond read the words on the page a few times, each time saddening him more so than the last. He saw how you fumbled with the charcoal, eyes averted, afraid of his reaction. He sighed so quietly that you did not hear it and only looked up once again when he handed the notebook back to you.

The words seemed to sincere, it bought a pain to his heart to see you think such things.

"Do not reduce yourself to such a thing" he said. But you did not look up.

There was a pregnant pause between you both as he regarded you.

"You are not entirely mute, are you"

You shook your head at his question, he winced at the painful look on your face. Immediately scribbling something down, faster this time.

It is sometimes better not to say anything at all.

Aemond nodded at this, "It is good advice, perhaps it can be bestowed on some within the court"

At this genuinely unexpected quip, you looked up at him letting a laugh escape you, hand immediately coming to your face to hide the smile that bubbled there.

It surprised you how quickly his eyes lit up upon hearing your voice. You could not help but look at him as he smiled before you, your cheeks firing up with embarrassment and you cleared your throat almost immediately, trying to dispel the air.

"You have a lovely voice" he said. It was here that you realised you were still smiling, eyes on his face, trying to find any signs of deception. For a second, you opened your mouth, tempted to say something. But the confidence quickly died as a block constricted your throat and the breath was expelled, but you nodded anyway, in thanks.

Do you read?

He nodded, gesturing to the book you had been reading, now reserved to the side table, all but forgotten.

"I do. I come here often" he said quietly, pacing about again.

You could no longer hide the way you looked at him. Your sister had said he was quick to rise and that she had been scared stiff at the interactions with him, that he had given her no notion of acceptance or equality. She spoke like he thought he was above everyone else.

But this was not the person you saw before you. Before you was some so soft spoken, you could barely hear him most of the time. Someone who enjoyed the serenity of a quiet library with the only sound being the flickering of the candles and the rain hitting the stone walls outside. You envisioned him being the only one to people-watch at parties, not amusing himself with the prospect of dancing. And perhaps not entertaining the thought of speaking to a woman directly.

"I come here when people like your sister remark on my tempestuous nature. Solitude is the only remedy for it" he paused looking over at you, "I imagine it is the same for you"

You scribbled something down, meeting his gaze when you handed it over.

Perhaps it is just that we are misunderstood. Solitude offers comfort.

A smile tugged at his lips once more and he thought that this is the most he had smiled in a long time.

"And books, it seems"

You nod genuinely, your eyes lighting up with an idea. Placing the notebook to one side, you rush past the Prince, giving him an opportune moment to feel the fabric of your skirts pass his thigh and the whips of your hair drag across the leather of his arm, releasing their scent. And with his eyes closed, he relished in these perfumes.

He allowed himself to think about what it would be like to live in that scent. To have it around him.

You placed a book in his hand, looking up at him excitedly. His long fingers grazed over the cover, admiring the gold leaf applied to it.

"Is this your favourite?" he asked, noting how close you remained after placing the book in his hand, though this you had not realised yet. You nodded, smiling as he opened the cover page to inspect the contents. A book he had not read.

He squinted at the pages, confused and looked back at you, barely needing to move his head since he was so tall.

"You can read this?" he asked. Ever humble, you shrugged your shoulders, "This is Valyrian" he sounded almost as if he did not believe you.

But you had read enough books for a lifetime already and you intended to prove to the Prince that what you were implying was truth.

Taking a deep breath, you lean forward and point to a word in Valyrian, inspecting the swirling text upside down. It had been a page right in the middle, telling the history of Aegon the Conqueror's mission to the Riverlands.

"…i-istan…hae…" you took another breath, not meeting the Prince's eye, nervous that if you did all confidence would surely die, "…darys…"

"…dārys" Aemond softly corrected. You could not help but look up at him now, the eye that had been filled with mischief and confidence, now had something else there. You licked your lips and motioned for him to repeat what he has said so you might copy, "dārys…"

"…dārys…h-he….he…" you struggled on the 'h' sounds of the next words, so paused to gather your breath and push past the newly developing blocks. But the Prince waited patiently, more enamoured at the fact that you were attempting to speak before him and that this was possibly the most you had said to anyone in months, perhaps years.

The mere sound of your own voice surprised you, but concentrated on finishing the sentence, you licked your lips once again in concentration. Aemond almost laughed as the line between your eyebrows returned, "…hen ry…vest, vesteros…o-o…" you sighed at yourself, frustrated. The words beginning with vowels were always the hardest.

"…ondoso…" you managed, pushing past the breath quickly and it was the loudest word you spoke in the whole sentence. It felt clumsy and wrong, but if you had looked ahead, you would have seen the hooded look of Aemond looking down at you, mouthing along with you in silent appreciation.

"…rhaenys…" you finished, looking up at the prince. He closed the book and repeated the word back at you but with the trilled 'r' that was difficult for many to pronounce. You smiled, fiddling with your hair, only now realising how close you were to him so you were able to read the book.

You stepped back, suddenly feeling embarrassed and hot. As if you'd been caught doing something you shouldn’t.

"Very good" he said. The smile on your face was difficult to keep at bay and he placed the book to one side, "It is not an easy language to learn. From books?" he asked, to which you nodded.

You were grateful he did not mention anything about your slowness, about the stumbling over the words. He simply complimented your ability to even read and speak any Valyrian and that was all you wanted from him.

You scribbled down.

Perhaps you could teach me how to pronounce it properly.

"I would enjoy that, my Lady" he stepped forward to give you the notebook back, only to keep a hold on it when you tried to take it. His other hand laid on top of hers and all of a sudden, it all felt so real.

You could feel his fingers rub over yours with a strangely soft touch and all the heat rose to your face again.

"It is a brave thing, to show yourself to someone" he said, looking down at you, "Someday, I hope to do the same for you" he said quietly.

You flicked from one of his eyes to his eyepatch, knowing that this was the source of his own pain. All the things the ladies and your sister had said about this man. Saying he was monstrous, tempestuous and someone to fear. It was clear that these people just did not know him.

"Being with you is like being alone" he said quietly, almost to say it to himself.

Your other hand came to his arm, hand smoothing over the soft leather, reaching out to touch him to see if he was real. Your smaller hands barely came around his arm but you squeezed it, offering whatever comfort you could.

At his words, you nodded in agreement, and he could see the sincerity in your eyes. Perhaps he merely wanted to be understood, like everyone would like, but something that people like yourselves was difficult to find.

Dropping the notebook, the charcoal fell to the ground and snapped in two and before Aemond could open his mouth to question, you laid your head against his chest, hearing and feeling his heartbeat through the thick leathers.

He stood stock still for a moment, hands suspended in the warm air around you until he carefully laid them on your shoulders, pulling the hair over your shoulder. And for a moment he could not tell if he was greatly confused, shocked, horrified or comforted by the feeling.

A shudder rattled down your back as you felt his chin rest on top of your head.

"Kirimvose" he whispered, making a burst of air leave you with a laugh. It sounded mildly forced, and it warmed your chest in a way that bloomed across your whole body, knowing now that despite his discomfort, he had said it.

Thank you.

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neonghostlights · 3 months

Text

They always told you that everything would work out in the end.

But it sure did feel like they were bunch of liars as you watched Eddie laughing and smiling at his wedding rehearsal.

She looked beautiful on his arm, dressed in white in preparation for the big day tomorrow. No one would question how gorgeous she was going to be marrying the love of her life.

The love of your life too.

You downed another glass in a large gulp.

Eddie caught your eye for a moment, a questionable glance at how miserable you probably looked.

You faked a smile and a little wave.

It had gotten harder and harder to pretend lately that everything was okay. Your mask was slipping and people were staring to notice.

Especially Robin and Steve who were whispering frantically to each other and sending you pitying glances from across the room.

You considered getting another drink, trying to weigh the option of how trashed you would probably be if you just kept drinking. It would be quite a show since the plan was for you to be standing next to Eddie at the altar, between him and Steve.

Instead of the best man he would have his best friend up there. It was Eddie’s idea.

It was definitely not the way you imagined standing next to Eddie on his wedding day.

In your immature fantasies it was you that had been dressed in white, taking his last name and earning his love for the rest of your life.

But life wasn’t as gracious as your fantasies were.

“You doing okay, kid?” Wayne asked you. The lines around his eyes looked deeper, like this wedding had aged him.

You nodded once, not wanting to look the man you thought of as family in the eye as you lied to him.

He squeezed your shoulder reassuringly as you excused yourself to go get some air. You grabbed your bag and jacket on the way out.

Your suitcase waited in your car, gas tank full and ready to go to wherever you decided.

Eddie may be marrying the love of his life tomorrow but you wouldn’t stick around to see it happen.

Part two

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson au #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #eddie stranger things #eddie munson series #eddie munson angst #eddie munson blurb

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seresinhangmanjake · 8 months

Text

Can't Let You Go

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x reader

Summary: When you and Jake broke up, it hurt both of you more than you could handle. Now, after three months of barely seeing or speaking to one another, Jake walks in on the surprise of seeing you in a wedding dress, and it brings past memories and ruined dreams to the surface.

Notes/Warnings: it's a fluffy ending (despite how the summary makes it sound). maybe a bit angsty . There might be cursing. Jake smokes a cigarette. Bradley and Nat are together for this, but there's not much focus on it (sorry to those who find that unappealing).

Words: 1800

-----

What’s the worst that could happen?

That one question was how your bride-to-be best friend got you to squeeze yourself into a wedding dress. You’d protested, heavily, but the last thing you wanted was to snuff out her excitement. So you appeased her with a nod and a false smile and shuffled into a dressing room to do as she'd begged.

What compelled you to select a gown you actually liked was beyond you. You hadn’t wanted to try one on, too afraid of the emotional toll that had the possibility of rearing its ugly head, and yet you didn’t just grab the closest dress off of the nearest rack. You roamed the store until you discovered the one that made your heart skip a beat. A dress that caused your breath to catch as you imagined yourself walking down an aisle, to him.

As you looked yourself up and down, you felt the tears sprouting for the dream that never came to fruition. You couldn’t tear your eyes away until Nat shouted, “You have to come out. That's kind of the whole point, Hon.” So you did, stepping up onto the low pedestal.

Her eyes widened, her fingers moving to cover her lips. She stared for a long moment. “Oh my God,” she said with a sweet smile, “You look perfect.”

“Nat,” you sighed, “come on.”

“You do!”

“Thank you, but this is—” Silly, you were going to say. But the jingle of the boutique door's bell interrupted you.

From her seat on the suede couch, Nat’s eyes shot over your shoulder. Her face paled. A muttered ‘Fuck’ met your ears in the voice of her fiance.

With your brow pinched in confusion, you turned, the dress swishing at your feet with your sharp twist.

Two pairs of eyes were glued to you. One set—a rich, dark brown—was alight with shock; the other—mossy green and all too familiar—was filled to the brink with pain.

“Jake…” you tried, but he was out the door.

You found your hand reaching out the slightest in the direction he'd gone. As if you could graze your fingers over the fabric of his shirt and tighten it within your palm to pull him back to you.

After absorbing the moment, you hurriedly stepped off the pedestal and rushed into the changing room to strip yourself of the dress.

“You didn’t tell me she was coming to your fitting,” you heard Bradley attempt to whisper.

“Well, you didn’t tell me you were bringing Jake along to pick me up,” Nat countered. You could practically see the irritation on her face, her arms crossed in defense and foot tapping loudly against the tile.

“He didn’t want to be alone. Today marks three months since they—”

Nat shushed him as you pulled back the curtain, reclothed in your jeans and t-shirt. “Hon,” she started, taking a step toward you, “I’m so sorry. I had no idea he was coming.”

“I know. It’s ok,” you assured her before flicking your eyes to Bradley. “Which way did he go?”

“Right,” he didn’t hesitate to say, and you nodded.

“Thank you.”

—--

The boutique stood alone on the street, nothing flanking it and thankfully making it evident with one quick glance that Jake, had he attempted to make a run for it, wouldn’t be able to get far. You didn’t see him, so there was only one other option.

When you rounded the building, you found him leaning against the brick wall, his head tilted slightly upward, his eyes closed, as he blew out a breath of smoke. The cigarette trapped between his fingers wiggled from his shaking hand.

Sensing your presence, like he’d always managed to do, he said, “Please tell me you didn’t get engaged three months after we broke up.”

You walked up to his side and copied his stance. “Of course not.” When he didn’t follow up with more, you continued. “I thought you quit.”

Jake finally opened his eyes to glance down at the cigarette. “I quit for you,” he said before taking another drag.

You felt your heart squeeze in your chest.

You’d always worried about him, long before you even got together. His job, his emotions, his habits. His job you couldn’t change, but his emotions and the habits that came with them, you could help. You’d been there for him, and he for you. Yet, it didn't occur to you that he would find himself revisiting past obstacles without you by his side. It should’ve. You should’ve pushed through any discomfort or awkwardness between you to be there for him. You should have been better.

“Jake…”

He released another stream of smoke, the quiet act somehow effectively cutting you off. “I’m not back on ‘em. Just one here or there…” he flicked his index finger to knock off the ashes, “to calm me down.”

Beats passed. How many, you couldn’t say. All you knew was that not so much silence had filled the bubble around the two of you since you were left spent and hurt after the blow up of ending your relationship. Though, in truth, you hadn’t been near each other enough in the past few months for the possibility of that situation to present itself.

“I didn’t expect to see you,” he suddenly said, “and the dress kind of…threw me.”

“Nat made me.”

With a snort, he said, “Figures.”

More agonizing silence dragged painful memories to the surface. The tears, the shouts, the pleading and apologies from the day that continued to haunt you.

“Jake.”

He hummed.

“I think we need to find a way to exist in the same space. It’s too difficult to try to work around one another when it comes to our friends and the places we frequent in town. I understand that you don’t want to be with me, but—”

“Me?” he snapped, head whipping in your direction. The blaze in his eyes seared the shock in yours, yet his tone maintained a calmness that, when accompanying his words, felt more eerie than anything. “I don’t want to be with you? You’re the one who ended us. You told me you were leaving, and then you didn’t even go.”

Your head fell and you began to pick at your fingernail. “Would you have preferred I left?”

“I would’ve preferred if you stayed my girlfriend.”

Looking up, you asked, “What changed your mind?”

A flash zipped across the green of his irises. “What are you talking about?”

“A week after we broke up, I chose not to go,” you said. “I wanted to be with you more than I wanted that job. I went to your house to tell you, but you weren’t there, so I went to the bar.” A hard swallow at another memory failed to relieve the aching lump in your throat. “I found you kissing some woman and I realized you’d already moved on.”

Jake took careful breaths—one too many for your liking—before letting out a soft chuckle. It held no humor. He shook his head.

"I didn't move on."

"Jake, I saw you."

"She kissed me," he said. "I told her it wasn't going to happen, then went home and drank myself stupid trying not to think of you." His eyes tore away from yours to stare ahead. And with a pinched brow, he shook his head once again as he tossed the remaining nub of the cigarette into a nearby trash can. "I did not succeed, I should add. So, no, I didn't move on. I can't even imagine trying."

You were overwhelmed with an array of emotions, each of them warring, mixing chaotically. Waves of relief crashed into the shame lingering from the day you fought. They churned with the pain you'd yet to let go of after seeing someone else kissing the man you love. There was a tick of embarrassment from the, now very clear, misunderstanding between you. But it was the cautious joy that overpowered it all.

"You still love me?" You said softly.

A low laugh rumbled in his chest.

"That's funny?"

"No, baby, I just—" he paused then brushed his fingers through his hair. "I don't know. I never thought I'd have to answer a question like that."

Your lips parted, ready to ask why such a simple question from you was practically stumping him, but he was one step ahead.

"I was always trying to prove how much I love you. Every single day I made sure of it. And I'd hoped I showed it well enough that you'd never need to ask," he said. A light shrug of his shoulders—barely noticeable, yet far from nonchalant—followed. "But here we are."

Without a thought to stop yourself, you reached up to cup his cheek, drawing his eyes back to yours.

"Jake, I didn't question it. I knew you loved me," you swore. "But I ruined things, and feelings can change."

As if understanding your immediate uncertainty that bloomed from your sudden touch, Jake wrapped his fingers around your wrist before you could dare to withdraw it back to your side.

"Not mine," he said. Then quieter: "Never mine."

The fresh rawness of his stare, of his tense brow, and softly parted lips, broke your heart. He looked ready to fall to his knees and weep at your feet. He looked how you had felt for months. Like standing, breathing, putting one foot in front of the other, was not easily done. Since you’d left him, nothing had been natural. Nothing came easy. Living life was a chore. And seeing Jake release it all in front of you with his desperation and devastation clear as day, allowed you to do the same.

Your palm fell to his chest. Jake brushed an escaped tear from the corner of your mouth, then rested his forehead against yours.

"It's ok," he whispered. "It's gonna be ok."

"I still love you," you said between sniffles.

With a heavy exhale, his whole body eased out of its rigidity. "I love you, too."

"Would…” you started but paused, unsure if your question would be your final strike. But you couldn’t stop the pounding in your heart, nor deny the need you had for Jake. So, despite the shake in your voice, you pressed on. “Would you take me back?"

Your eyes were closed, but you could sense his smile. Then he said:

"Baby, I never let you go."

---

A/N: it's been a minute since I posted any writing here. Sorry about that. But I'm working my way along my list and hopefully, you guys liked this :)

Tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick #jake seresin fic #jake hangman seresin x reader #top gun #jake hangman seresin fic #top gun hangman #jake hangman seresin x y/n #jake seresin fluff #tgm #tgm fic #tgm fanfiction #top gun maverick fic #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin fanfic #jake seresin x you

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sunkissed-zegras · 2 months

Note

🌱 wedding dress shopping w your mom and ellen... you like a dress but it's over your budget but jack gave his card to ellen and ends up spoiling you

𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 | jh⁸⁶

♡ ─ word count | 704

♡ ─ warnings | slight angst (y/n being sad over a dress) but cute mom/ellen/you moment!!!!!

♡ ─ ev's notes | jack seems like the type to drop 50k on a wedding dress LMAO (as he should)

"Oh my gosh, this one looks like my wedding dress!" Your mom gasped as she touched the dress, a warm smile on her smile. You gasped at that, touching it as well. Ellen smiled as she watched you and your mom continue to admire the dress.

"Oh, does it really?" Ellen chuckled, a fondness evident in her voice. "We have to look at the old pictures when we get home again, I love good old wedding photos."

You nodded, still marveling at the dress that bore a resemblance to your mother's. The three of you were in a bridal boutique, surrounded by lace, satin, and tulle in every shade imaginable.

"I remember the day I found my dress," Ellen continued, her eyes sparkling with memories. "It was such a special moment, just like this one. It's a dress that holds so much good memories, despite the stress that comes along a wedding."

Your mother laughed, her eyes reflecting the shared memories of her own wedding day. "Yes, despite the stress, it was one of the happiest days of my life. And finding the perfect dress made it even more special."

Ellen nodded in agreement. "Absolutely. There's something magical about finding that one dress that makes you feel like a princess."

Your mother began walking away from the dress, looking around. "Anything catch your eye yet, sweetie?"

You shook your head as you sighed. You were still thinking about the dress you had found a couple days ago but you had decided it was way other budget, not being able to justify spending that much money on a dress.

Ellen noticed the hint of disappointment in your expression and stepped closer, her eyes filled with warmth. "Is everything alright, Y/N?"

You hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether to share your dilemma. Finally, you took a deep breath and spoke, "I found a dress a couple of days ago that I absolutely fell in love with. It was perfect in every way, but..." You trailed off, the weight of your decision hanging in the air.

"But it was way over budget," Ellen finished your sentence, her voice gentle yet understanding. "Sweetheart, finding the perfect dress is not just about the price tag. It's about how it makes you feel, the emotions it evokes. If there's a particular dress that captured your heart, it shouldn't matter how much it is."

Your mother, sensing your hesitation, chimed in with a reassuring smile. "Your happiness is what matters the most. We can always explore options, but if you're still thinking about it then we should look at it again, babe."

"But it was way over budget-"

"Y/N." Ellen said firmly. "It doesn't matter the price, Jack told me to make sure to get any dress you want. Jack wouldn't even notice how much we took, plus all he wants is his future wife to be happy." She smiled as you laughed.

You sighed as you nodded. "Okay, then."

"Sweetheart, it's not even gonna make a dent in his bank account, trust me." Ellen joked as you laughed again. "And plus, your wedding day is a once-in-a-lifetime occasion, and you deserve to feel like a princess."

Your mother nodded in agreement, her eyes reflecting the same sentiment. "Ellen's right, sweetheart. Jack loves you more than anything, and he wants to see you happy on your wedding day. If this dress is the one that makes you feel that way, then let's make it happen."

Finally, unable to resist any longer, the boutique attendant brought out the dream dress once again. As you slipped into it, a sense of certainty washed over you. The delicate details, the way it made you feel – it was worth every penny, especially knowing that Jack wanted you to have the dress that would make you happy.

Ellen and your mom exchanged knowing glances as you twirled in front of the mirror, a radiant smile on your face. Their silent approval meant more to you than words could express.

"This is it," you said, your voice filled with certainty.

"Oh, sweetheart, you look absolutely breathtaking," Ellen whispered, genuine happiness radiating from her. Your mom, too, had tears in her eyes as she watched you.

-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-

thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#❀ evangeline's 1k celly!!⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚#nhl angst #nhl hockey #nhl imagine #nhl players #nhl #nhl fic #hockey #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes smut #jack hughes fic #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes #jack hughes fluff #jack hughes x y/n #luke hughes #jack hughes blurb #new jersey devils #nj devils

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babydollmarauders · 1 year

Note

Jack and mom finding out they are pregnant or gender reveal?

i was so tired when i wrote this and i have not proofread it, so i hope it’s okay

it hadn’t even occurred to me that i could be pregnant. chalking the sickness and fatigue up to the stress of wedding planning, the cravings and tenderness in my breast being attributed with getting my period soon.

when i was complaining about everything to Jack, he only asked if i should go to an urgent care or if my period was this week. which in turn, got me thinking; i’ve been using an upcoming period as an excuse for two weeks without even realizing that i’ve yet to actually get my monthly cycle.

“Jack! you coming?” Quinn’s voice drifts up the stairs of the lake house, quickly followed by the sound of scolding from Ellen about his yelling.

“alright, i gotta go.” Jack stands from our bed, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “i love you.”

he jogs out of the room, rushing to catch up with his dad and brothers for their golf day.

quickly pulling out my phone, i tap into my period tracking app, a lump forming in my throat at the words displayed.

period 6 days late

eyeing the keys to Jack’s range rover that sit on the dresser, i sigh, standing and retrieving them. i step down the stairs a lot quieter than Jack had just moments before.

“hey hun! i’m meeting some friends at that one mom and pop’s pizza place. i can never remember the name, the one like forty-five minutes out? do you wanna come?” Ellen calls to me as i enter the living room. despite the mix of emotions battling for dominance in my body, i smile, shaking my head.

“no. i’m okay, thank you!” i tell her. “i’m actually about to drive over to the drug store real quick, do you need anything?”

“no, i’m okay! thank you, hun! you sure you don’t wanna come? i feel bad leaving you here all by yourself!” she tells me and i just shake my head again, assuring her that i’m okay by myself. Ellen shrugs and we bid each other a goodbye before i take off out the door.

the drive to CVS is quick, the trip in even quicker because i don’t think twice about which kind of test to buy, i just grab one of almost every option.

by the time i make it back to the lake house, Ellen has already left, leaving me with the house to myself.

i take a deep breath, steeling my nerves as i go grab a bottle of water. chugging the water, i eat a quick snack and pace around the empty downstairs until i feel the need to pee.

making the trek upstairs to the bathroom, i pause in the doorway.

should i be doing this without Jack?

should i be telling him before i take a test?

before i can chicken out, another wave of light nausea hits me and i decide that i can’t wait any longer. Jack is right, if these come back negative then i should probably go to urgent care, just in case something is seriously wrong. and that’s better done sooner rather than later, right?

my hands shake, making it hard to take the tests, but i get it done, setting each one on the counter. with a timer set on my phone, i sit on the cold bathroom floor, my thoughts racing at the possibility of being pregnant.

it’s not like Jack and i have never talked about having kids. we have. plenty of times. we just never imagined it this soon. we’re not even married yet, our wedding is in two weeks. Jack has talked about hoping to have kids alongside Quinn or Luke, but neither of them are even in relationships, let alone having kids soon. will he be upset about that?

or could this be an exciting thing? the idea of having a mini me or Jack running around our apartment. Jack teaching them how to skate, how to play hockey. imagining the apartment full of children’s toys and play hockey sets. dressing them in a jersey and taking them to see Jack play. a child calling me “mama”.

i’m torn out of my thoughts by the sound of my timer, quickly clicking the stop button. i stare up towards the counter, not yet ready to read the results, but somehow already knowing what they’ll say.

i stand up slowly, dragging out the process in order to provide myself with extra time. taking one last deep inhale, i count to three before looking at the tests.

positive.

two lines.

a plus sign.

pregnant.

tears well in my eyes at the results. i’m overjoyed, but i can’t help the nagging feeling in the back of my mind. my heart telling me i’m excited to have a baby, a product of Jack and i, while my brain overthinks, wondering what Jack will think, if he’ll be upset.

grabbing the tests, i go back to our bedroom, sticking them in my bedside table drawer before laying down on the bed. tears well in my eyes as my mind pings from one thought to another. happy and then scared.

i’ve probably laid there for an hour before i find myself falling asleep.

“hey, baby.” i’m stirred from my sleep by the sound of Jack’s voice. “you been in here the whole day?”

my eyes flutter open, coming face to face with my fiancé, who squats down beside the bed. i sleepily shake my head at his question.

“no? what’d you do then, pretty girl?” he wonders, switching to sit on the edge of the bed while running his hand over my hair. he leans down to press a kiss to my forehead, and it’s only now that i realize he’s freshly showered and changed out of his golfing clothes.

i can hear the voice of Trevor outside our room, yell-telling a story to lord knows who.

“i found out what’s wrong with me.” i barely even second guess telling him. i thought long and hard about it before i fell asleep and it’s better to tell him now rather than in a few weeks.

“oh yeah?” Jack asks. “was i right? was it your period?”

i’m silent for a beat, just trying to think about how to phrase my next few words.

“um, i guess you could say that?” i tell him “or rather something to do with it.”

“that’s good.” “i’m pregnant.”

we both speak at the same time and i watch as recognition slowly spreads across his face. his hand drops from my hair, making me nervous.

“w-what?” he gives a few slow blinks, trying to process the information i just threw at him.

sitting up in the bed, i reach over and open the bedside drawer, clutching the tests in my hands and holding them out to Jack.

he stares at them for a few moments before taking them into his own hand. he rifles through each test, reading the results.

“can you please say something?” i whisper, tears pricking the back of my eyes. the anxiety is eating at me, nervous of what he thinks.

“we’re gonna have a baby?” his voice is quiet as he looks up at me, his eyes soft. i just nod in response, unable to speak without a sob coming out.

he drops the tests on the bed, cupping my face and crashing his lips on mine. soft and sweet, full of love and affection. he pulls away, laying his forehead on mine.

“we’re having a baby.” he whispers, more to himself than me.

“is that okay?” i question.

“that’s more than okay.” he tells me, pulling back to really look me in the eyes.

“i know you’ve talked before about wanting to have kids around the same time as your brothers, and i’m sorry that-”

“fuck that. we’re having a baby! a little you and me.” he wears an excited smile, placing another chaste kiss to my lips.

“yeah, we’re having a baby.”

#el!hughes au #ask faithlynn ✨#jack hughes x reader

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jfleamont · 2 months

Text

Guys, I want you to tell me your ideas of Lily's wedding dress. No sleeves? Long sleeves? Which fabric? What do you think it looked like in canon? It's the late 70s, but keep in mind that wizarding fashion doesn't necessarily reflect that.

A few different options that I like:

If you want to do the same thing for James, please do! I'm so curious ❤️

Here's an idea, but imagine these pieces with more embellishments and different colours perhaps:

I'm asking because I have a Pinterest board for wizarding fashion but I've always wondered what other people see in their minds while they read.

Reblog with your own suggestions!

P.S. How about modern muggle AUs? What does her dress look like?

#jfleamont rambles #jily #trying to take back the jily tag

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bradshawsbaby · 1 year

Text

Forever Valentine

Pairing: Rooster x Fiancée!Reader

Author’s Note: It’s been a hot minute since I’ve written anything for the Bradshaws, huh? I had a weird anxiety about writing this one, which I think was due in part to the fact that I haven’t written for them since Christmas. But I’m happy with how this little story came out! It was written for @roosterforme’s #love is in the air tgm challenge! The song that inspired it is Can’t Take My Eyes Off You by Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Pre-wedding stress, a smidge of angst, and a whole lot of fluff.

You felt like you were going to cry.

You couldn’t remember ever feeling so stressed out about anything in your life, and that included the time you registered for that anthropology class in the spring semester of your senior year thinking it would be an easy three credits, only for it to end up being more work than all four years of college combined. At least your stress had made sense then—bioarchaeology wasn’t necessarily the most chipper of topics. But now? This was supposed to be the most exciting time of your life, and you felt like you were ruining all the joy by letting yourself get so worked up.

In a little over a week, you would be walking down the aisle to join your life forevermore to the man you loved more than anything in the world.

And yet, you were frantic.

Despite the fact that you and Bradley had been engaged for over a year, and that you’d been planning your wedding for nearly as long, it still felt like there wasn’t enough time to get everything done. The past month alone had felt like a whirlwind, an endless marathon where you kept running and pushing, and yet somehow never made it past the finish line.

Bradley had been amazing, as he always was. While he couldn’t really care less about wedding details—he would have been just as happy getting married in bathing suits at The Hard Deck as he was to get married in his dress whites at the church you’d booked last year—he never failed to offer his unending support and encouragement. He went with you on every venue tour, tasted every flavor of cake imaginable, let you drive him to the brink of insanity comparing floral arrangements, sat up with you all night making seating charts, left you encouraging notes when you went dress shopping, and held you tightly whenever the stress of it all became too much and you just needed to bawl your eyes out.

If you had ever doubted that Bradley Bradshaw was the man for you—which you hadn’t—his devotion and patience during the wedding planning process would have sealed the deal for you. You still weren’t sure how you had ever gotten so blessed, but at least now you’d have the rest of your life to thank your lucky stars for it.

At the moment, however, you weren’t exactly feeling blessed. Stressed was probably the more appropriate term.

In just a week and a day, you and Bradley would finally be saying “I do,” but it felt like there were a million things that needed to be done before that time. Penny and Phoenix had been an amazing help, and your mom would be here in a few days to help tie up some of the last minute details, but you’d always had a hard time delegating and ended up putting too much pressure on your own shoulders. Bradley affectionately scolded you about it all the time.

“Honey, why don’t you let Penny help you with this?” he’d asked one night, pressing a kiss to your shoulder as he watched you fuss over the menu options for the reception. “You know she’d be happy to.”

“I know,” you’d nodded in response, brow furrowed in concentration. “But I don’t want to bother her.”

“Can I do anything?” he asked on other occasions, always looking a bit terrified by all the checklists and folders you had scattered around you at any given time.

“No, no, it’s okay,” you always rushed to reassure him. “I’ve got it.”

Still, he always stayed with you and made sure, in the midst of everything, that you were eating enough and drinking plenty of water. And that mattered so much more than anything else he could have done.

Your heart was pierced with guilt now as you sat in the living room of your apartment, making final confirmations with vendors and going over your checklists for the one hundred millionth time. Your fiancé was such a good man—the best man you had ever known. And he had been your rock through all of this. Not only were you concerned about the wedding and your honeymoon plans, but you and Bradley had also recently closed on the apartment where you were going to begin your lives together as husband and wife, and planning for that move was taking up a good chunk of space in your brain. Still, he had never once complained about how scatter-brained you’d been recently. On the contrary, he’d spent the past several weeks trying everything in his power to lift some of your self-imposed pressure off your shoulders. Bradley had done nothing but show his love for you at every turn.

And how did you repay all that love and kindness? You’d forgotten that today was Valentine’s Day.

Bradley had stayed over at your place the night before, as he often did, but you had been up so late, talking on the phone with your mom for hours, that you’d slept through both of his alarms this morning. Evidently he hadn’t wanted to disturb you, because you had no memory at all of him climbing out of bed and getting ready for work. When you did wake up a few hours later, however, you walked into the kitchen to find a yellow rose—your favorite—sitting beside the coffee pot, along with a little handwritten Post-it note stuck to the machine.

Happy Valentine’s Day, honey! I love you so much and I can’t wait to be your husband. Just 8 more days!

You felt like you’d been hit by a freight train. Despite all your careful planning and compulsive checklists, you’d somehow completely overlooked the fact that today was February 14th. You felt like the world’s worst fiancée.

In all fairness, you and Bradley had already talked about how you weren’t going to do anything big for Valentine’s Day this year.

“I know it’ll be a week before the wedding, and you’ve got so much going on, so we can keep it simple this year,” Bradley had murmured as the two of you had been lying in bed together. “We’ll just get to celebrate double next year,” he added with a grin, kissing your forehead.

“Sounds like a plan,” you had laughed in response, snuggling against his chest.

But this went beyond keeping it simple. You hadn’t even remembered. Bradley had been sweet enough to still find a way to make you feel special, and you hadn’t even woken up to give him a kiss goodbye this morning.

Hurrying back to your bedroom, you snatched up your phone and immediately opened your messages with Bradley.

Happy Valentine’s Day, baby! I love you! ♥️

A few minutes later, you heard your phone buzz and glanced down to see your fiancé’s response.

See you tonight, honey 😘

Bradley didn’t even necessarily know you had forgotten, but you still felt horribly guilty all the same. That afternoon, in between making phone calls, you raced out to the store and picked up some of his favorites candies and treats. You also placed a take-out order for dinner from his favorite restaurant, knowing you wouldn’t have time to cook for him this year.

You loved him more than anything, and you wanted him to know that. As special as he always made you feel, you wanted him to be confident in the knowledge that he was just as special and precious to you.

Thankfully, you managed to arrive back to your apartment with dinner before Bradley returned from work. Having already set out the candy you’d bought for him on the kitchen table, you popped the food into the oven to keep it warm for when he was ready to eat.

Plopping back down on the couch, you only had a few minutes to review your venue contract before you heard the front door to your apartment opening, Bradley using the key you’d given him before the two of you had even gotten engaged.

“Honey?” he called out, his deep voice causing goosebumps to rise on your arms immediately. You could definitely get used to hearing that greeting every night for the rest of your life.

Dropping the contract and jumping up off the couch, you hurried to the entryway to greet him, flinging your arms around him and kissing him deeply. You could feel his mustache tickling your upper lip, which made you giggle against his mouth.

“Well hello,” Bradley grinned when you finally pulled back, his arms settling snugly around your waist. “That was quite a greeting after a long day of flight maneuvers,” he chuckled, nuzzling his nose against yours as he leaned in closer.

“I missed you,” you told him, cupping his face in your hands and brushing another kiss, softer this time, against his lips.

Bradley smiled into the kiss, squeezing your hip affectionately. “Mmm, I missed you, too. You looked so tired that I didn’t want to disturb you this morning, but I missed getting to give you a proper goodbye before I left,” he admitted, peppering your jawline with gentle pecks.

His words were full of tenderness, but you felt a stab of guilt once more. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, burying your face in his neck as you wrapped your arms around him more tightly and hugged him close.

Surprised, Bradley chuckled lightly and dropped a kiss on the top of your head. “You don’t have to be sorry, baby. I know you were up late.” His large fingers brushed up and down your spine comfortingly. “Hope you treated yourself to a nice, big cup of coffee this morning.”

You nodded, your face still pressed in the crook between his neck and his shoulder. “I did. Thank you for the rose and the note. It made my day,” you said softly, your lips ghosting across his shoulder.

“Of course,” he murmured, his fingers playing with the ends of your hair. “I know we said we weren’t going to do anything too big, but I still wanted to do something for you for Valentine’s Day. I’m sorry it wasn’t much,” he apologized.

“Don’t say sorry,” you insisted, pulling back and looking up into his dark brown eyes. “It was perfect.”

“So are you,” Bradley grinned, kissing you gently.

Trying to push away the minor guilt that was still gnawing uncomfortably at you, you took his hand and led him into the kitchen. “I picked up dinner for you, if you’re hungry now,” you told him, thinking of the chicken pot pie that was resting in the oven. Bradley always said that it was the only pot pie he’d ever tasted at a restaurant that reminded him of his mom’s. “Chicken pot pie from Duncan’s.”

“Oh, wow, really? Thank you, honey!” he said excitedly, squeezing your hand as he stepped into the kitchen with you. “Damn, and all this, too?” he added, his eyes widening as they took in all the candy and snacks you’d laid out on the table. “You’re spoiling me tonight, baby. You definitely beat me at the Valentine’s Day game this year.”

You weren’t expecting it, but Bradley’s words suddenly had you bursting into tears, covering your face with your hands as you stood over by the oven.

Dropping the pack of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups that he’d been holding, Bradley was by your side in an instant, wrapping you up in his arms and tucking your head underneath his chin. “Hey, hey, shh,” he murmured soothingly, rocking back and forth lightly. “What’s the matter, baby? What’s wrong?”

“I’m the worst fiancée ever!” you sobbed, hiccupping into his chest. “I don’t want you to think I’m so good! I totally forgot it was Valentine’s Day,” you confessed, sniffling loudly. “I only remembered when I saw your note this morning. So trust me, I most definitely did not beat you at the Valentine’s Day game.”

Bradley’s eyes widened as he listened to you ramble, one large hand moving up and down your back with firm strokes. Then, without warning, he started to laugh.

“It’s not funny!” you exclaimed, your face mottled with tears as you pulled back to glare up at him. “You do everything for me, and you’ve been so amazing, especially with all my wedding craziness, and I can’t even remember to buy you a piece of candy on Valentine’s Day? Some wife I’m going to make!” you cried irrationally.

Bradley sobered immediately at your outburst, holding your face in his hands and forcing you to look up at him. “Hey, I’m sorry,” he said, waiting until you made direct eye contact with him. “I’m sorry, honey. I shouldn’t have laughed. I know you’ve been under so much pressure lately,” he went on, brushing your tears away with his thumbs. “Between the wedding and the new apartment and everything else that you have going on, who cares that you forgot Valentine’s Day? I certainly don’t!”

“But I do,” you sniffled, reaching up to wipe your nose with the back of your hand. “I love you. I love you so much. And I want you to know that,” you explained, your voice trembling with further unshed tears.

“I do know that,” Bradley replied gently, caressing your cheek with a gentle hand. “It would be kind of crazy of me to doubt it considering we’re getting married next week,” he added with a soft chuckle. “Baby, you forgot one Valentine’s Day. Considering everything else you’ve been juggling—and juggling perfectly, I might add—it’s pretty amazing what you’re able to do on a daily basis. It doesn’t bother me at all that this slipped your mind.”

Crumpling, you buried your face in his chest and started to cry all over again.

“I think I know what this is really about,” Bradley murmured, resting his cheek against the top of your head and holding you close. “You’ve been way too stressed out about the wedding lately. And that’s my fault. I’ve been too preoccupied with work, and letting you deal with too much on your own.”

“No, that’s not true. You’ve been—”

Bradley silenced your interruption with a kiss, stroking your hair tenderly. “Our wedding is supposed to be a happy day, baby. The happiest day of our lives. I know it’s going to be for me because it’s the day I get to call you mine forever. And I want it to be for you, too. I want you to get to enjoy all the hard work you’ve been putting into making this such a special day for everyone. It should be a special day for you above everyone else.”

“It will be,” you promised, offering him a watery smile. “Because I can’t wait to marry you.”

He smiled, dropping another soft kiss on your lips. “No more stress, honey. No more worrying. No more planning. No more checklists. No more trying to do everything by yourself. I’m here for you. And I want to help you. It is our wedding, after all,” he told you with a teasing grin.

You let out a breathy laugh, nodding your head slowly. “You’re right,” you agreed softly.

“And no more beating yourself up about forgetting Valentine’s Day either,” Bradley insisted, resting his hands on your shoulders and shooting you a pointed look. “We’re going to have so many Valentine’s Days together, baby. If we remembered every single one, we’d run out of things to do. Trust me, I’m more than satisfied knowing that you’re my forever Valentine,” he smiled, curling his finger under your chin and lifting your face so that your eyes met.

“How do you always know the right thing to say?” you pouted playfully, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Bradley threw back his head and laughed at that, beaming. “You know, my mom used to say that she would ask my dad that same exact question. Usually, it was when he was managing to get out of trouble. Guess it’s just a Bradshaw quality.”

“Oh, well, thank goodness I’m marrying into such a good family then,” you giggled, leaning up to kiss him sweetly.

“You’re going to be the perfect addition to the Bradshaw clan,” Bradley smiled, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose.

You sighed softly, contentedly, as you snuggled up against his chest, resting your head on his shoulder. “I love you so much,” you whispered.

“I love you right back. More than words could ever say,” Bradley responded, turning his head so that his lips could brush against your forehead.

The two of you stood like that for a while, perfectly content to remain wrapped in each other’s arms as the tension of a long day seeped out of your bones. There was no place that felt safer than one another’s embrace.

You finally pulled back, giggling, when you heard Bradley’s stomach rumble.

“Sorry,” he grinned sheepishly, the tips of his ears turning pink. “Guess I’m hungrier than I realized.”

“Let me get dinner on the table for you,” you told him, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Why don’t you go freshen up?”

He nodded, dropping a quick succession of kisses on your mouth before stepping out of the kitchen.

Smiling, you cleared the kitchen table of all the candy you’d purchased, setting out plates and utensils before moving over to the oven to take out the food you’d ordered. Before you could place the food on the table, however, you suddenly heard music begin blaring from the speakers in the living room. You recognized those familiar strains.

You're just too good to be true

Can't take my eyes off of you

You'd be like Heaven to touch

I wanna hold you so much

At that moment, Bradley reappeared in the entryway to the kitchen, grinning from ear to ear.

“What’s this? A little mood music for dinner?” you laughed, resting a hand on your hip.

Stepping towards you, Bradley held out his hand with an infectious smile. “Dance with me,” he said, waiting patiently.

You didn’t hesitate as you slipped your hand into his, letting him pull you close to his chest as he spun you around the kitchen to the musical stylings of Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons.

“I love you, baby,” he sang against your ear, his voice melding with the music so perfectly that you were tempted to tease him about becoming the Fifth Season. But instead, you closed your eyes and let his soothing voice drift over you, washing away all the stress and anxiety that had been building up inside you these past few weeks.

You couldn’t wait to marry this man, this man who danced with you in the kitchen even when you had forgotten Valentine’s Day, and who spent every moment of every day reminding you how loved and cherished you were.

The day you became Mrs. Bradshaw would be the happiest day of your life. And it would have nothing to do with the floral arrangements or the wedding venue or the flavor of the cake. Instead, it would have everything to do with the man who was waiting for you at the end of the aisle. The man who wouldn’t be able to take his eyes off you, the same way you wouldn’t be able to take your eyes off him.

“I love you, Bradley Bradshaw,” you told him, beaming up at him as the song slowly started to come to an end.

“I love you, too, honey,” he smiled, kissing you deeply. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

#love is in the air tgm #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #rooster x future wife!reader #mr. & mrs. bradshaw #x reader #x female reader #top gun #top gun: maverick #miles teller

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lfghughes · 11 months

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Wedding Series: The Venue

a/n: for visual purposes i just had to go on pinterest and heres the idea i had.

The venue was probably one of the more important parts of this whole wedding planning. Both of you knew that you were working on limited time and schedules so a fall/winter/spring wedding wasn’t really ideal. So really the options were limited but an early or late summer wedding wasn’t something you were that concerned about and since you both wanted something outside for the ceremony itself it worked out. Then the reception could be inside in the air conditioning.

Still you had no clue what questions to ask which is why you and Jack had enlisted Ellen for help because she luckily was a lot better at this and organized than the two of you. You had visited a few venues and Ellen of course crushed it with her questions and helped you with the pros and cons. The last venue you three visited was the one that left you speechless. You just hoped it passed the Ellen test.

“I really like this place.” Jack whispered to you as his mom continued talking to the person in charge of this venue. A smile spread on your lips because you were so happy he was a big fan of this place too. “Wanna walk around?” You asked, knowing Ellen wouldn’t mind if you both explored. The two of you walked around the outside area, enjoying the views of the trees and you tried your best to imagine all your family and friends sitting out here watching the two of you.

Jack moved so he was in front of you, his hands grabbing a hold of yours. “Picture it now, us two right here telling each other how much we love each other. You in your dress that you won’t show me still.” A laugh left your lips at his words. He was still insistent on at least a little peak but you weren’t giving in. “And you looking all handsome in your suit.” You pointed out as you gave his hands a squeeze. You could picture the place perfectly and you knew this was the right one. It felt right and you hoped they had some opening.

“There you two are.” Ellens voice rang out as she walked towards the two of you, a smile on her lips. “You both love it, I can already tell by both of your faces. Good news is they have one open date towards the end of summer and I know you don’t want to hear this but if it does rain there is a backup plan it’s just inside so it won’t be as pretty as all of this but we won’t have to cancel.” Both you and Jack nodded your heads at Ellen, confirming all her suspicions. “This is the place. Tell them yes.”

#jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes blurb #( wedding series ft jack hughes )

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violetvelourr · 3 months

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The Wedding…

Another scene we were deprived of 🥺

First of all, thanks for the ask, @dreamerofthewinds 🤭

I never know when an innocent question or mention can influence me, but this was one of those instances 😆

So yeah, I do get asked occasionally about Kakashi’s and Arina’s wedding.

It’s as “easy” as planning your own wedding, only even harder 😆

I don’t know when that should happen: probably after the war when he has completely let go of the past (even though I don’t really put that as an obstacle to their relationship in my stories). But still seems about right. Also the fact that he is to become Hokage also makes sense for this timeline - they should enjoy some time together before that happens. But on the other hand having kids right during his Hokage era is a bit cruel 🥴 but again, I don’t see a better option - going through war with the kids is hardly a better idea… so yeah, sacrifices must be made 🙈 after all, Minato and Kushina managed to have a family despite Minato becoming Hokage 🥲

But let’s get back to the marriage then, now that it’s settled for roughly half a year after the war ends…

I have too many and often controversial thoughts about this:

* they wouldn’t even want a grand wedding because both are not very public people

* but on the other hand, they would want some close people to share the day with

* Oops, the list went out of control

* Arina secretly wishes for a traditional ceremony but at the same time feels she doesn’t deserve it

* She also loves seeing Kakashi in kimono 🤭

* But I would want to see her in a “western” outfit 🤔

* I guess it’s possible that they had two ceremonies: Shinto and civil, which solves the problem with outfits: they get to wear both

* But Kakashi hates formal attire, especially western suits (head canon)

Also I can’t decide how to go around Kakashi’s mask and kiss: one option would be Arina to use the bouquet to cover them during the kiss.

On the other hand, I rather enjoy the naughty idea of Kakashi disrupting the ceremony by carelessly removing the mask for the kiss in the heat of the moment.

Imagine: they kiss, fully absorbed in each other. And at some point they simultaneously realize it’s dead silence in the hall. They break the kiss, glance sideways at the crowd to find everyone going “😳😲🫢🤩”

And Arina would poke Kakashi while everyone is still frozen and reproach him jokingly in whisper for stealing the moment 🤭🤭🤭 (I also think it’s a bit unfair to do that to a bride 😅).

So yeah, after all of these brainstorms, in the end I got a bit carried away and messed up completely with the illustration I made - there is no kiss during the Shinto ceremony, so they shouldn’t be dressed like that if they were kissing… 🤣

Well, the perks of being an artist is that you can draw as many absurd scenarios as you want 🤭

But I hope that one day I will find a satisfying solution for their “canon” wedding 🙈

☙ ❦ ❧

#kakashi face #kakashi without mask #unmask kakashi #kakashi x oc #kakashi #naruto #Kakashi fanart #Kakashi’s wedding #OC: Arina #Kakashi x Arina #many words…

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whinlatter · 4 months

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So I am obsessed with Beasts. And specifically I cannot stop thinking about Ginny and Hermione getting ready for the NYE party. It made me start wondering if Hermione has ever felt jealous of Ginny? Like they grew up together and Ginny was the younger girl, who was excluded from the “Harry/Hermione/Ron club” so she’s obviously felt a little jealous and left out there (which you explore so well!! Agh the telling Harry it’s fine, and maybe he’d rather hang out with them than her, and pretending to herself she doesn’t care!! But I digress). But now I’m wondering if Hermione has ever felt the same about Ginny and if you will explore this more in this work or a later one? Because Ginny is cool. She’s Hot, she’s sexy, she’s popular. She pulls off that Union Jack dress perfectly and has got everyone looking at her. She’s many things that Hermione is not (or hasn’t chosen to be). While Ginny has had lines of boys wanting to go out with her, Hermione has had Harry and Ron who are her best friends.. but Harry’s not an option (for either of them) and Ron has been pretty pigheaded and oblivious through a lot of their relationship (and her as well lol). And we don’t see a lot of evidence in canon that she has many other friends. People see her as the know-it-all, kinda awkward, sometimes ruthless (rip Marietta) girl. But i guess my point is, Hermione isn’t seen as hot, sexy, popular, cool like Ginny is. The Yule ball was her one big moment really. So her putting on that little black dress and letting herself be hot… idk it gets me feeling some type of way. Like yes you go girl! And I want to know Hermiones feelings here in regards to Ginny. Like I imagine she’s happy for her, but I wonder did she ever feel sort of left out of that part of girlhood/coming into womanhood that Ginny had just so naturally embraced?

THANK YOU for reading and for the beasts love, you legend 🫶

so i have been thinking about this question a lot! no-one will be surprised to discover that i find hermione and ginny's relationship in canon so so interesting. it's neither the relationship of natural besties, but nor does it seem to be a relationship of pure convenience: there's genuine love and warmth there, the swapping of confidences, meaningful advice, emotional support in moments of distress, and more than a little boy scheming (taylor swift wrote mastermind about hermione and ginny, change my mind). i tend to think of them as sisters, though very much with hermione as the big sister, and ginny as the little.

i say this because i think my answer is no, i don't think hermione would be jealous of ginny as a hot popular girl, in canon or after the war as i imagine it in beasts. but i do think that there might be reasons for different kinds of insecurity and jealousy from hermione towards ginny, especially after the war. full reasoning and minor beasts spoilers below the cut!

one of the funniest things about hermione is that, by her mid-teens, she's reasonably self-assured about her social position and her place on the dreaded teen romance market. after she's made some mates and sorted her teeth out (something she clearly was insecure about), she's pretty content. she doesn't feel especially upset about the absence of a large circle of friends or crave the approval of the other girls in her year, parvati and lavender. she has harry and ron's friendship for a lot of her emotional needs (and, beginning in GoF, ginny, for the one's that they can't meet). when it comes to boys, hermione consistently really backs herself (as she should). when krum's interested in her, she's flattered but not astonished that this international quidditch player would want to ask her out, and the ball's mostly in her court throughout their courtship (ok penpals!) when she wants to make ron jealous, she backs herself to be able to bag both cormac and zacharias and to have her pick of them (icon). she enjoys a nice dress up - the yule ball, the wedding - and knows she scrubs up well. and while she's tapped into the public mood/gossip mill (romilda vane's love potions, harry's growing fanciability, cho's quidditch fortunes), she's not especially interested in popularity herself. she'd rather be thought of as clever than she would hot or popular, for better or worse. i think we should take hermione's encouragement that ginny tap into the growing number of boys who fancy the pants off her to help get over harry in good faith. in her mind, ginny's her little sister, and hermione gets a lot out of trying to steer her towards things that might make her happy. (she disdains fleur for her obsession with appearance and seeming desire for male attention, but she thinks of ginny as her ally in being opposed to such things, not another rival).

(that doesn't mean i think hermione doesn't ever feel insecure or even feel humiliated socially, but that her insecurities are more about her feelings for specific people (read: ronald bilius weasley) than they are about the approval of her peers. when ron takes the piss out of her in HBP, for instance, she's less upset that parvati and lavender laugh at her than she is that ron, who she fancies, is mocking her and the other girl who fancies him, lavender, is laughing at her. for the most part, hermione in canon is happy as she is)

that said... i do think that hermione might have complicated, or even jealous feelings towards ginny in other contexts. in canon, the tensions in hermione and ginny's relationship are the moments where the big sister/little sister dynamic is most visible, or else when ginny tries to reject hermione's big sisterly approach and assert herself as hermione's equal. in OotP, when hermione becomes a prefect and ginny spends the prefect party laughing with tonks and sirius about behaving badly, we see hermione's big sistery approach on display, as well as her teetering with a desire to get involved with the troublemakers while also remaining pretty committed to being well-behaved in her bones. we see elsewhere that while hermione advises ginny, we have no evidence that that happens the other way around, or at least that hermione takes any of ginny's advice (it seems to hard to imagine ginny approving the cormac/zacharias plan, for one). their fight in HBP over sectumsempra isn't ginny calling hermione on not being involved in quidditch because she's not cool enough, it's the suggestion from ginny that hermione is wrong about harry's best interests, doing up i-told-you-so, being too wrapped up in her own ego over the prince's book, and then trying to manipulate ginny by bringing up quidditch in the first place (which causes ginny to go for the jugular and bring hermione's intellect, and lack of understanding on quidditch, into it). hermione's disdain for how much time harry and ginny are spending together during exam szn is also plainly big sistery, and, as it bothers harry, i think we can assume it's also something that ginny would grate against too.

in the post-war world (as i see it in beasts) i think these dynamics would be more visible than ever. ginny's lived a certain kind of war that's made her less happy to be patronised or dismissed as a little sister figure rather than an equal: she's also a symbol of the world hermione feels increasingly lost in. hermione is head girl of a student body she feels extremely removed from, while ginny is widely respected as a resistance leader among the other students, and especially admired within the DA. her conflict with ginny is really an extension of hermione's post-war conflict in general, which is about her place in the wizarding world at large: where does she fit in, in this post-war world that's both so different but also (in lots of troubling ways) very much the same, full of many of the same prejudices and problems that defined wizarding society in the interwar years. another of hermione’s big postwar conflicts, in my mind, and in fanon more generally, is about hermione's relationship with her self - as a former soldier now trying to go back to normal young adulthood - and her relationship with her family. the reason i wanted hermione in that little black dress looking fit was partly to have her try and reach out to her pre-war self who did enjoy getting dolled up and stunting on the hoes (even if maybe not in a dress quite so short, slay), but also to have her play with the idea of being allowed to do something so frivolous like look fit to turn her boyfriend on (real slay), and to have her start to publicly wrestle with a different set of external expectations, not from her peers, but perhaps from a parent she recognises she doesn’t really know:

Hermione tries for a smile, sad eyes tracing the dress’ low neckline. ‘My mum would hate it,’ she mutters. ‘She - ’ She shakes her head, throws up her hands. ‘I don’t know. Maybe she wouldn’t. I don’t know.’

i always think about that scene early in PoA where hermione and ginny are laughing with mrs weasley about love potions. it's such a cute moment - really the first hermione and ginny friendship moment in the series - and i'm very struck that it's a moment of real fun and levity that happens with this mother figure present (especially when hermione has just ditched hers to go hang out with the weasleys for what will be the first of many times). i don’t want to say too much for where things are going in beasts, but just that i think it’s significant that hermione and ginny’s first real girly friendship moment happens in the presence of a warm maternal figure who adores her daughter, imbuing hermione and ginny’s relationship with a sisterly-ness but also bringing into the dynamic the example of mothers and intergenerational female relationships. ginny has a very specific relationship with her mum; i imagine hermione has a very different one with hers, and i think that matters for who hermione is but also her relationship with ginny, just a bit.

loved thinking about this one, thank you so much!

#these girls #love em #thank you!!!#beasts #minor beasts spoilers #hermione granger #female friendship #meta #ginny weasley #romione

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sunhazeheart · 1 month

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While I understand that they had a lot of ground to cover in the show, I really wish they'd just lengthened the season so we could get move covered in the years between them. I could do this for so many characters, but one person that fascinates me is Alicent in the spaces between time skips.

For example, one thing would be thinking about what basically surrounded her in the days, weeks and months after Viserys announced that he intended to marry her. While I'm sure lots of superficial courtiers flocked to her looking to cozy up to the Queen-To-Be, but there's no way there wasn't also a lot of scorn from others, particularly other girls in court and power-hungry fathers, brothers, etc.

Before this, Alicent is of not practicular importance in court besides the fact that she is the close personal friend of the princess. Her father is Hand, yes, which garners lots of respect, but as far as I know he doesn't have much else besides the station that he's worked for. He's an unlanded second son, and with him having at least one son of his own, while the Hightowers are obviously one of the wealthiest families in Westeros, there would be limitations to her dowery and what else she brings to the table besides prestige and the general good graces of being a young pretty girl supposedly able to provide children. She's slightly removed from the main branch of the Hightower family which will continue down her cousin's line. I'm not saying she doesn't have prospects, BUT she's not exactly worth a King.

So I could see rumors quickly spreading around her about why the King chose her over a Velaryon, or another sister or daughter of a great lord. Honestly, I don't think anyone was thinking there even could be another option besides Laena. Maybe we just didn't see it, but I didn't get the impression of noble families trying to parade their women in front of him. Even with the knowledge Viserys basically has to marry again. If I'm not mistaken, up to this point, no Targaryen King or prince had married outside of the Targaryen or Velaryon families (besides Jocelyn Baratheon who was half Velaryon, and of course Maegor, but he's an outlier is several ways). So imagine the surprise of lords and ladies that young Alicent Hightower, of all people, managed to snag the King. 100% Servants and guards or other people in the Keep saw her in or entering/leaving the King's chambers. In episode 2, the second scene of them together it looks like they're sharing a meal. I would imagine rumors could swirl about her visits to the Viserys being more salacious than they were, and an interesting take could be almost like the reverse of Alicent and Larys talking about Rhaenyra years later in the gardens.

There's the cut scene of Rhaenyra appearing to scream and rage at Alicent directly after the announcement of Viserys' intent to marry her, which imo, completely understandable with the limited information and surprise that Rhaenyra was just dealt. And of course the next episodes showcases Rhaenyra's isolation from both her father and Alicent as her stepmother. But there are the stills of a scene of Rhaenyra helping Alicent dress for her royal wedding and appearing to wipe the blood from around her nails. A few different scenarios could have culminated in this happened, whether Viserys forced her to, as an attempt to reconnect the girls, or this was the first instance of Alicent reluctantly using her soon-to-be rank over Rhaenyra to force her to talk to her, or if Rhaenyra simply chose to etc etc.

But the reason why I bring this up is that in those two poor-ass quality screen caps, Rhaenyra doesn't seem overly angry or hostile. So many the girls had a slight reconciliation at that point? Maybe Alicent tried to explain to Rhaenyra that it was on her father's commands that she became close to the King? Who knows. But then things could turn back very angry and hurt on Rhaenyra's side if, lets say at the feast and celebrations after the wedding, Rhaenyra, who no longer has any friends in court and likely already began to keep to herself, were to begin to overhear the scandalous rumors that Alicent seduced Viserys and visited him in pretty finery as soon as the very night after Aemma's funeral. That could be what broke down again the tentative bridge they may have built and results in Rhaenyra rebuffing Alicent again and again like we see in Episode 3.

Also, how was Alicent when she first found out she was pregnant? She has no mother or really any female figure in her life to speak with her about such things and what to expect, besides the probably very misinformed and clinical maesters. She's very much a child forced to go through the strain and pain of pregnancy, as if the sad truth for most girls in this world. She would have witnessed time and time again Aemma's miscarriages and stillbirths, while not likely physically present at them, seeing the toil of the aftermath on her best friend and her parents would have been terrifying enough.

On top of that, no matter how much remorse and guilt Viserys expresses over what was done to Aemma, I don't think she or anyone could ever 100% believe that he would never put his desire to have children, specifically a son, over her life.

And while I picture her father putting a whole lot of pointless pressure on her for her child to be a boy, and no doubt Viserys as well, I could see her almost wanting it to be a girl. While they're apart, Alicent's personal loyalty and love I would think it still reaching out to Rhaenyra. She wants her friend back, she wants the only person that I believe ever truly loved her for her, besides maybe her own mother. I think that Alicent wouldn't want to take that last thing for Rhaenyra, which she knows how much it means to her.

I wonder how Alicent felt when Aegon was born, a boy and given the name of a conquerer. How she watched Viserys fawn and preen over his new son, while she felt disconnected by the child she never even wanted to have yet. Maybe she expects to feel the mother's love that all women are meant to feel when they first see their child, but when he's laid in her arms she just sees a screaming little babe who is just a point blank reminder of her girlhood being gone and all the different expectations being mounted on her and any child that she has. Like she says later, she'd like to be Lady Alicent, but everyone only sees her at the Queen and now as the Prince's mother.

#Maybe one day I'll actually write out a thing #god I wish we got more time between the time jumps #house of the dragon #alicent hightower #rhaenyra targaryen #hotd

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leclerced · 4 months

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I just unlocked a new fake scenario with my crush but since im mad at him im shamelessly giving it to you and lando now.

Imagine you’re a hobby seamstress and your good pal Lando is your personal photographer for your finished pieces. But when you finally made some lingerie sets (one even in his fav color) you ask someone else to shoot you, bc you’d find it too weird to ask your crush friend to do a boudoir photo shoot for you. When he finds out he convinces you to let him shoot you. Since he also has a crush on you he can barely keep it together seeing you in all these lewd poses. And when you both are getting more comfortable (turned on), your poses get more and more explicit until he can’t take it anymore and fucks you in his favorite set.

Maybe he even grabs the camera mid fuck to document how pretty you look stuffed full with his cock. And obviously grinning like the cocky bastard he is in every foto he’s in.

(Oh and btw that was me with the german greetings last night so frohes neues meine liebe❤️)

-🫀

please i'll cry. happy new year angel 🫶🏻

i was literally thinking about photographer lando while looking at lando.jpg yesterday… need it in my life

you'd made plans with a female photographer, but she ends up cancelling because a friend needs a last minute wedding photographer. she immediately returns the deposit and apologizes repeatedly, offers to reach out to some contacts to replace her. lando happens to overhear a phone call and asks what you need a replacement for. when he hears you hired another photographer, he asks why. you tell him you thought he was busy that weekend, make something up about him telling you that he had plans with his family. he'd check his schedule and confirm he's free and insist on it, and you have to admit that the reason is because you didn't think he'd do a boudoir shoot, since it's not really his style. he shoots runways or shoots for expensive brands. you’re lucky that he's your best friend and happily shoots for you.

he'd immediately jump at the idea, trying his best not to sound eager as he says he'd do it if you’re comfortable with it. he'd show you shoots he'd done years ago, earlier in his career before he got his foot into high fashion. you hesitantly agree, worried you won't be able to contain herself prancing around in lingerie in front of your best friend. you were planned on renting somewhere to shoot, but when lando offers, you're suddenly worried hoping something will happen and you'll be charged a cleaning fee, so you convert your guest bedroom into a shooting room.

he's used to commanding his models around during shoots, telling them how he wants them posed and where to look and you're no different. it feels different ordering his best friend who is dressed in lingerie on how to pose, but he's looking at you through the lens and he has no option but to analyze every line of your body to get the perfect composition. he's peeking through the lens and telling to you to move this arm here, that leg there. taking a few photos then telling you to roll over, arch your back. at some point, he asks if he can position you a certain way, and the moment his hand touches your thigh to maneuver you, you let out a little whimper and he nearly drops his camera.

the photoshoot-the one meant to go on your website to advertise the new custom fitted sets you're offering- is immediately forgotten when he hears that sound, his grip on you tightening and both of you are moving towards each other without thinking. you sit up to meet him halfway but he pushes you back down onto the bed as your lips meet and hitches your thigh over his hip. the camera is set down next to you oh so carefully so as not to damage the thousand dollar lens, but it's not entirely forgotten about. he's kissing down your body when you grab the camera and try to figure out how it works, flicking through settings before you give up and ask, can this thing record? he looks up at you, holding the camera pointed down at his mouth hovering over your center and nearly knocks it out of your hands in the rush to take it and start recording, stumbling off the bed to grab his tripod and set it up.

he asks if you're sure before he hits the record button, and you answer by beginning to tug your panties off, but he immediately tells you to stop because he wants to take them off. what he means by that is he wants to tease you for ten minutes straight, kissing your hips and thighs and mouthing at your covered center until you're begging him to take them off and touch you.

the photos from the beginning of the shoot are usable, but you end up telling lando that you think you'll need to remake the last set and shoot that one before you can even upload any of them, not wanting to overburden yourself with orders for the ones you do have photos of when there's a third one that you still need photos of. you'd make an extra when you remake it, just because you have a feeling it's going to turn out just like the first one did, and it does. but luckily you already have a backup and he shoots you in it a few days later, this time saving the fun for after the shoot.

#ask #🫀 anon #german drives me crazy i blame my first bf bc he was a german foreign exchange student #but dear god. it makes me giggle n kick my feet no matter what

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writers-vlogx · 1 year

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yandere rafa kidnaps his ex from her wedding

(rafa is dramatic as fuck,you would have come if he had just asked)

OHHH YALL ARE SOME SMART MF HE WOULD ABSOLUTELY DO THAT

Rafael caro quintero kidnapping you on your wedding day

Okay I can see this going one of two ways, the first being yall would have been dating before, but you broke up because you just couldn't stand seeing him hurt

And while it hurt you leaving him, you never stopped loving him. Neither did he stop keeping tabs on you, and eventually finds out your going to get married

The other way that I can see this going is your family doesn't know about him and decided to marry you to someone of their choice, and you ask him to come crash the wedding but for the sake of my own sanity it's gonna be the first option

You tried okay? You tried so hard to move on even if your heart ached, when you started seeing someone else it didn't feel right

You felt repulsed by him, but you had to because you had promised to never see him again.

When you came into his house that day, and decided to break his heart. You had told him you were tired of this, that you were tired of him

But that wasn't true "ya no puedo hacer esto Rafael, estoy cansada de todo esto, estoy cansada de tus cosas" No please look at me I'm sorry I hurt you! "Siempre es el negocio y no me contestas por semanas" No why do you look so hurt let me hold you I promise to never do that again "Honestamente estoy viendo a alguien más, alguien que si sabe que es amar" NO I didn't mean it please my heart only belongs to you I could never leave you!! "Así que, no me busques porfavor" amd with that you left, you left him behind and sometimes you think you might have left your heart right in front of that door along with him

You tried so hard to love again, but you couldn't; your heart didn't beat for anyone but rafa

And it seems unreal but time kept moving and when you least expected it; you were getting married

Ever since that day you left Rafael in that house, something inside him snapped

He became cold, when he was drunk he cried a lot and even when you told him to forget about you. He never forgot, instead he actually became obsessed with knowing where you were, with who and why

Felix became worried over him and tried to introduce him to other women, tried to get him to date but he was never interested; he wanted you and no one else

When he heard you were getting married? That was his breaking point

He refused to see you be anyone else's so he rounded up his people and got ready because he was having you, he didn't care whether you hated him or not

The day of the wedding came, everyone kept congratulating you and asking you how you felt, in truth however you felt nothing

You had imagined this moment many times, how he would look, where it would be and how joyful you would feel seeing him but this was not rafa and now it was too late to back out, so with dread you walked up to the altar ready to seal your vows, to lose your freedom

But that's when you heard it, men dressed in all black with guns shooting at the roof of the church and a man in front of all of them dressed exactly the same, but that voice...

You recognized who that was especially by the way he looked at you, he was angry

"TODOS AL SUELO, HIJOS DE SU CHINGADA MADRE, NO VA HABER BODA HOY NI NUNCA" with that he grabbed you by the wrist and before you could say anything else

BANG

He had shot the man in the head in cold blood, while his men kept everyone in their place, he started dragging you out of the church into a car that looked too familiar not to remember

When he finally got in the car you pulled his mask off to see him, his hair was messy, and he was sweating, a frown on his face

He opened his mouth as if to protest shu5 down whatever you had to say when you just kiss him, kissed him because of the nights that you spent without him, the days missing him and regretting leaving him, but out of anything else, you felt pain in how you broke his heart and walked out the door

You wanted nothing more than to feel him and never pull away, to beg him for forgiveness because you missed him so much it physically hurt

He thought you would be mad, furious even but you were the complete opposite, you held his face so delicately and smiled at him

"Hay no sabes cuanto te eh extrañando rafael, perdóname por todo te juro que nunca quise hacerte daño perdóname por favor" you were grabbing at his hands, face buried in his chest, like you needed to be as physically close as possible or you would vanish

"Oye calmada amor, no te disculpes porfavor, pero enserió como se te ocurre dejarme y irte con otro hijo de la chingada eh?" He understood you needed him, but he could still feel the anger inside him, because that man touched you, because he had the audacity to try to take what was his

" y a ti como se te ocurre ir y destruir una boda? Si no querías que me casara me pudiste haber dicho" you crossed your arms, but a smile gave it all away

You werent mad at him, and he wasn't mad at you, but you both had missed each other for the longest "ay ven aquí, me importa poco si te cansas de mi, me perteneces a mi y no voy a volver a dejar que te alejes de mi" he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead "ahora si vamos de aquí, okay amor" he looked down at you laying on his lap "I wouldn't want it any other way, mi rafa" somehow after all of this, it seemed it made yall stronger and just like he said, he won't let you escape again.

Okay whoever send me that thank you so much, made ya boi very happy, you know sometimes I hope rafa would be bi so I may imagine he would date me and love me 🤦🏻‍♂️

#tenoch huerta #rafa caro quintero #rafael caro quintero x you #rafael caro quintero x reader #narcos mexico imagine #narcos mexico x reader #narcos mexico #narcos mexico x you #THIS MF WOULD BE DRAMATIC #DRAMA QUEEN #narcos x reader

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