constant princess

Ignis Dating Noctis’s Older Sister (Headcanons)

I read that @nifwrites wanted to read something about Ignis dating Noctis’s Older sister recently. And what do you know? I’m down for that as well. I had some ideas brewing in my head yesterday so I figured I would share them with you all. Hope you enjoy <3

I’m also writing this in the perspective of a F!Reader. I was going to make an OC, but I decided I might make an OC later (possibly a new fic series???) depending on what you all think. Click here to let me know. <3 Hope that’s all good with you guys!

  • Both you and Noctis were introduced to Ignis at the same time. 
  • At first meeting you and Ignis were both 6 years old.
  • He is only several months older than you.
  • Your father, King Regis explained that Ignis would become Noctis’s right hand when he becomes King.
  • You took an instant liking to Ignis.
  • You weren’t afraid to show it either.
  • You were very outgoing as a child.
  • “You have pretty eyes.”
  • Yup. That was the first thing you said to Ignis ever. 
  • His face turned as red as a tomato.
  • He spent as much time with you as he did Noctis, however. 
  • On his own free will.
  • So I don’t think your comment bothered him too much.
  • Growing up, you both shared a tutor. 
  • That means you studied together. 
  • A lot.
  • You were the only person that could get him off track of his homework.
  • Even as young children you and Ignis shared deep conversations with one another.
  • It wasn’t before long that you became the best of friends.
  • You two were practically inseparable.

  • You both began your romantic relationship when you were in your late teens.
  • King Regis greatly approved of Ignis being your boyfriend.
  • I mean, what father wouldn’t approve of Ignis???? 
  • Due to Ignis’s job, he was allowed to attend important meetings along with you. 
  • You often try to hold his hand underneath the table, or try to place his hand on your knee at said meetings, but he gives you a scolding, yet sweet look.
  • He’s not one for PDA
  • Especially during important meetings.
  • When Noctis moves into his own apartment, Ignis becomes busy cleaning up after him.
  • From time to time, you and Ignis get into arguments over your little brother.
  • “It’s not your responsibility to clean up after his mess. He needs to learn they’re are consequences for his actions.”
  • Deep down, he knows your right. But he is simply doing his job.
  • He teaches you how to cook after giving into your constant begging.
  • “A princess does not need to now how to cook, darling.”
  • “She does if she wants to cook for her boyfriend eventually,” you respond with a smirk.
  • Rather than cooking for each other, it becomes more of cooking together.
  • It’s Ignis’s favorite thing to do with you.
  • Also he really enjoys using the palace’s kitchen.
  • Everyone wins.
  • Bonus points because you both get to enjoy whatever you cooked together.
  • Dinner dates constantly. Yes please. Thank you.
  • Once you both get older and things get more serious, you move into Ignis’s apartment. 
  • It’s a lot smaller than the palace, and to Ignis’s surprise; you love it.
  • You make yourself at home quickly.
  • Ignis comes home from work at the Citadel exhausted.
  • Sometimes he comes home to you well past midnight, explaining he was assisting Noctis with chores or homework.
  • You know how hard the poor man works, so you always greet him with a warm mug of herbal tea
  • You’d give him Ebony, but who drink coffee at midnight?
  • Probably Ignis
  • As expected, Ignis always awakens before you to cook breakfast.
  • You, however, make him sleep in on weekends.
  • You are the one who cooks breakfast on weekends. 
  • Sunday you both enjoy breakfast in bed together.
  • It’s a very nice tradition.
MariChat May Day 1: Milk

I finally went back and did Day 1. Bloody hell. This will be chapter 5 in the final piece so they are not dating yet.

<<Chapter 1     Chapter 4     Chapter 5     Chapter 6

A More Appropriate Drink

It had been nearly two months since Marinette had admitted to him that her mother knew something was up. Apparently they’d been too noisy when they chatted or played video games and she’d also started noticing those nights when Marinette barely ate anything (because he’d promised to bring food over and she was saving room for it). She kept implying that she knew Marinette had company from time to time but she never did anything to prove her suspicions. Lately it was a constant worry of his Princess’s that her maman would catch Chat in her room.

He knew logically he should have backed off for a while. Maybe he could have suggested they hang out somewhere else? Where though? He had no idea since he could hardly invite her back to his room without giving away that he was the same boy she was uncomfortably avoiding at school. Well, had been avoiding until recently.

She had always remained friendly after he’d turned her down but clearly being around him had made things a little too fresh and painful for her and she’d done her best not to be around him too often. Though that had changed in the last few days, maybe a week at a push. They had started hanging out as a group again, with Alya and Nino as a buffer, and just yesterday she had teased him directly on having an awful sense of humour.

He thought that perhaps she was starting to get over him. He wasn’t sure why that made him feel uncomfortable and squirmy in the pit of his stomach.

The bottom line was he didn’t want Marinette putting up that distance with Chat the way she had been with Adrien and so they were stuck hanging out in her bedroom until they came up with a better plan.

He glanced up from his place on her chaise and looked around the room for the hundredth time to give himself something to do while he waited on her returning to her room from the kitchen. His eyes drifted over the blank space above her desk where he could see the familiar rectangular shapes of lighter coloured wallpaper – she had obviously hung something there until a few months ago. His cat ears drooped as he remembered asking her about the spaces before. She had told him it was just leftover from the posters of her celebrity crush; “It was nothing important,” she’d said. He hadn’t quite believed her fake smile. He wasn’t completely stupid, he knew they’d probably been his posters. But he hadn’t been able to let her know he knew that, and so had jokingly asked if they’d been Chat Noir posters. He’d even flexed for her like an idiot. The snickers she’d made at that had both lifted his spirits and bruised his ego all in one.

His ears pricked back up as her trapdoor opened and she climbed through, carrying a truly outrageous amount of cookies and pastries for them to snack on. She had barely placed the tray on her desk before he scurried over and sat on the edge of it, grabbing a croissant and devouring a piece greedily.

Dieu, Chat. Don’t you eat anywhere else?” she asked him, face full of mock outrage.

“Why would I when I get fed so well here?” he told her through a mouthful of pastry. He nearly choked as he spoke and so reached for a drink to clear his throat with before he realised there wasn’t any on the tray.

“Umm, Marinette, didn’t you say you would bring up soda?” he asked, brow furrowed as he tried to remember if she’d actually said so or if it was just wishful thinking on his part.

Merde,” she said, “I forgot. Sorry Kitty.”

“’S okay,” he said honestly, trying to swallow the food in his mouth without concentrating on how dry his mouth felt or how the flaky pieces of pastry were sticking to his throat.

“Besides,” he added, “between these treats and your company, I think I should avoid further sweet things or I’ll end up with diabetes.” He waggled his eyebrows beneath his mask to create the most classic Chat Noir moment he could in full effect.

The unimpressed pout she was giving him dropped suddenly as the sound of her trapdoor opening reached her. Both her and Chat turned to look for the source of the noise and froze as her mother’s head appeared. She was quickly followed by the rest of her body, carrying a tray with two glasses of cool milk on it, condensation dripping down the outside of each. She walked straight past Marinette and placed the tray immediately next to the first one, right beside where Chat was seated on her desk, legs dangling over the edge. She looked up at him.

“The chairs or the chaise are for sitting dear, not the desk,” she said kindly.

He scrambled to his feet in front of her. “Yes Madame,” he said, standing upright awkwardly with half a croissant still in his hand.

“Please, call me Sabine,” she told him, affectionately ruffling his hair and also his cat ears in the process. She half-turned to Marinette with a vaguely evil-looking and smug smile on her face that clearly said,“We will talk about this later.” If she was trying to be discreet about her silent message, she was failing miserably because Chat could read that subtext in the air.

“I thought you should be drinking something a bit better for you than coffee or soda,” she told the stupefied girl in front of her, “since you’re both eating so many sweets lately. It can’t be good for your teeth.

“Plus,” she added, glancing at the boy beside her, “I thought milk would be a more appropriate drink for your guest.”

Both Marinette and Chat hunched visibly in guilt from being caught hanging out so obviously. He kept waiting for her to drop her smile and tear into the two of them, to ban him from ever visiting again, to ground Marinette – anything would have made more sense to him than this. But she seemed more pleased with herself at having finally caught them than annoyed that he was here.

She smiled at them both and moved back to the trapdoor, descending until only her head was left, that delighted smirk haunting them as she reached to close the door over.

“Marinette,” she said just before she disappeared completely, “you should invite your boyfriend to spend some time downstairs next time. You father and I would love to meet him properly.”

The door closed. He couldn’t see Marinette’s face but he was sure she was just as red as he was at her mother’s parting comment.

MAMAN!” she spluttered out loudly after a moment. She looked entirely mortified. She buried her hands in her face and let out a groan of embarrassment.

He couldn’t help himself. He started to laugh.

Everything on the internet is like, chemical exfoliants are so good! If you can’t seem to find a moisturizer that absorbs you need to exfoliate!

Really because this is like, the lowest % BHA that claims it will also eliminate redness and YET it does this shit. 

anonymous asked:

Hi, love your blog! Do you like the white princess? Both the book and the tv show I mean.

Hi anon, thanks a lot! Brace yourself, because this is going to be a very long answer written both by Mary’s perspective and my own (they’re similar but we have a lot of feelings, so….):

Keep reading

Black, Green, and the Demon Queen

Summary: What if Heather Duke asked Jason the lunchtime poll? Movie Based

Warnings: Bulmia mention, eating disorders mention, death, murder, suicide mention.

“That stuff’ll kill her.” Duke smirked, rolling her eyes at the boy in the trenchcoat who wanted to play with fire. “What do you think about orange juice and coke? What’s the upchuck factor on that?”

“Come on, I say we go with big blue here!” Jason shook a small glass with an icy blue chemical inside. Blue reminded Duke of the threat to her life and reputation. Wouldn’t it just be so very if blue was the threat that earned her a better life and reputation?

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fictional book recs!!!

hey, guys! soooo maybe some of u know this but i really really really love reading and i wanted to share some of my favorite books with u so here is a list of some books that i’ve read and loved + some i want to read + some links to more book recs!!! enjoy (also if u wanna see the description/review of each book click their titles+ bolded ones are my FAVs) hugs, mel

here are some of my favorite books I’ve read. bolded ones are my ABSOLUTE favorites. * means I have my own copy of the book. 

ok so that was some of my favorite books I’ve actually read myself and here are some that are on my to-read list!!!


Requested- no

Word count- 2.1k

Summary- Everyone fights for something, but Y/N wishes Calum didn’t have to fight for her (Warnings for mentions of death and blood)

Originally posted by hollywoodmarcia

They loved his story, a young boy who had volunteered to fight to avenge his sister now one of the most celebrated fighters in the empire. 

“My love, I must be going before the sun rises,” Warmth was pulled from your bare frame as your beloved rolled from your side. His skin glowed gold in the early morning light, soft against the harsh metal armor and leather now strapped to his torso. 

“Mhm, gods know how quickly rumors would spread if the servants found you here in my bed. Whole story would race like fire before the sun has even appeared above the horizon,” You murmured, reaching your hand towards the shimmering boy now fully dressed. 

“Your father would have my head on the city walls,” He pressed a kiss to your forehead gently before turning towards to the door. You curled back into the soft linen of your bed bringing a smile to the boy’s face before he slipped from your room, leaving a empty feeling you tried to fill with sleep. However, the comfort of his body was irreplaceable as sunbeams began to pour through the windows into the courtyard, sparkling against the iridescent mosaic swirling beneath your feet as you stepped down from your bed. Muscles ached as you stretched, wrapping your body in fabric before shuffling towards the door. Shadows cast throughout the hallway as you assessed the possible occupancy of the palace’s baths. Only the sound of your footsteps echoed off the marble halls until you finally reached the bathhouse across the complex. Steam curled  as you sank into the clear water, the tips of your toes grazing the bottom of the warm pool. Hanging pots of fire were suspended above the bath, the smoke rising towards the begonia sky beside spirals of steam. Tension rolled from your muscles as you finally relaxed in the soothing water, allowing your mind to wander to what the rest of your day would hold. Excitement had been boiling for weeks about the event at the Coliseum, yet you would have given all the gold you owned to not be there. Not only would you be paraded like a statue for the whole city, but you were required to sit high above in the emperor’s box silently with your mother and father while watching whatever spectacle would play out before the eyes of the arena. Calum drifted into your thoughts, his warm brown eyes and skin to match making your heart race. The feeling of his rough hands gliding across your body in the secret moments you shared late in your rooms. Years prior when you had met him you had considered not keeping your relationship a secret, your young mind naive to the repercussions it could have caused. You had met him at the market, his eyes following you through the swirling crowds, a beautiful girl who held herself in a way that didn’t match the simple clothing you were wearing. Sparks flew between you both in every meeting after, the simple eye contact made from afar graduating to letters left hidden in the city before the first night Calum had ventured through the inky blackness of the palace to your side. Soft fingertips ran across skin in silence, echoed by heavy breaths. Now he was beside you almost every night, his company a constant in the chaos. 

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I’ve been waiting forever to made this review about the first and maybe only season of The White Princess and it’s finally time, yaay. Nothing has been confirmed yet, but I don’t think they’ll make another one, guys. Otherwise they wouldn’t have skiped seven years and God forbid that they plan doing a series about The Constant Princess, I don’t wanna see my Henry being even more murdered by this wretched “modern historians”, argh. Anyway, let’s go!

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oscarsisaacss replied to your post : The way we going I think we going get a season two…

lmfao the constant princess is so stupid like? henry vii wanting to marry CoA? like?

i mean, historically speaking, it was something he suggested -only for political reasons tho, to keep the dowry, to keep the alliance with Spain…- but her parents were horrified by the idea, and Henry was like ‘okay then’ and they all moved on.
it is not like in this awfull book, where he is depicted a lecher who wants to jump in her bed because he is lustful *sigh* oh and in this book, CoA & Arthur are soooooo in love, and they have sex during their very short marriage (my personal opinion is that they didn’t, in history)
ANYWAY this book is a mess and i fucking hate it

Gold || c.h.

WC: 1.8K+

A/N: Here is the very anticipated Calum installment to my Color series. This one really isn’t my favorite but that may just be because I had a hard time with the AU. Please, please, please let me know what you think! Once again this one shot was inspired by @thehalcyonclub‘s Calum one shot, Green

Read the other installments here: Red | Blue

Gold was the color of the pendent that usually dangled from your neck but today was perched between your lips. Calum watched as your eyes scanned the notebook in front of you, the pendent never leaving the safety of your mouth. You were deep in thought, this much he knew. He’d been observing – or stalking as his friend’s teased – you for weeks now. Something about you intrigued him, you enticed him. Lost in thought, he hadn’t realized he was still staring until he felt a delicate tap on his shoulder. “It’s not polite to stare,” you smirked, before waltzing out of the library. Calum was hooked. 

Gold was the medallion awarded to Calum and his team for their championship win.  You watched as your fellow classmates rushed the field to congratulate their football team from your seat between your parents. “You can’t sit with the commoners,” you father, the King, had sneered when you brought up the idea of sitting with your friends. Instead, you were stuck between the two as they clapped courteously, your heart sinking as you watched girl’s from your class peck Calum’s cheeks in celebration. That should be me, you thought before you were being whisked away by security. The unmarked black car waiting for the three of you to take you back to the safety of your palace before the real celebrations started. 

Gold was the color of the sand squished between your toes, your feet sinking a little more with each step you took. You had never felt something so warm before, your parents having forbid you from ever parading around the beach like a commoner. But they weren’t here tonight, having left you in your dorm only a few hours prior with no security upon your request. It was only when they left did you tip toe out of the dorm towards your floor mate, Calum. 

“I can’t believe you’ve never been to the beach before,” he said, brown eyes wide as he watched you trace patters into the soft sand. 

“My parents are strict,” you answered, scooping up a handful of sand watching as the wind blew it from your hands. The grains swirled in the air, dancing with the wind until falling to the ground. You were mesmerized, your hands quickly scooping up more sand to start the process again. 

Your hands were halted though, when you felt a familiar presence behind you. Calum wrapped one hand protectively around your clothed middle, while the other gathered the hair twirling at your shoulders. He pushed it aside before his fingers grazed the collar of your shirt, tugging it towards the left so the material fell from your shoulder. It only took seconds for Calum’s lips to replace the warmth your shirt was providing you, leaving a trail of kisses from your shoulder to the nape of your neck. 

A chill coursed through your body as Calum spun you around, his arm that was once around your waist now clung to your hips. The two of you stood in silence, admiring each other’s beauty under the golden hues of the sun. You marveled at the way the dim rays of light gave Calum’s brown skin an aurora of gold, the harsh black lines of ink contrasting with his soft skin. Meanwhile, Calum admired your beauty, amazed that someone so beautiful could be so unaware of it. 

“If you brought a bathing suit we could have gone in the water,” he mumbled, his words nearly getting lost in between the kisses he showered you with. 

You pulled away from Calum, eyes trained on the waters ahead of you. The sounds of the waves crashing on shore were like a lullaby, but instead of lulling you to sleep they were calling for you. You had never touched such tranquil yet destructive waters before and you craved to. 

“Who says we need bathing suits,” you smirked, tugging the hem of your shirt up and over your head. Your mother’s nagging words reminding you that “Royals were only nude while bathing” played over in your head as you shimmied out of your shorts. The constant mantra of a princess is pure, prim, and proper, a mere fleeting thought as you unclasped your bra before taking Calum’s hand and dragging him towards the ocean. 

You finally felt free. 

Gold was the color of the tiara placed delicately near the crown of your head. You stood beside your mother, your father a few steps in front of the two of you addressing the crowd of civilians and media personal. Calum’s heart dropped as he watched the spectacle play out on the small television in the dormitories’ common room. His eyes immediately glazing over as the camera panned to your face, your lips in a tight line as you were forced to smile at the boisterous crowd in front of you. Calum had to sit down, his legs failing him as you smiled, your wrist poised in the air waving at your admirers. Your father’s words began to slur together, the room around Calum spinning. The last thing he remembers hearing was the King’s promising words that he would find his daughter a suitable Prince. Everything went black. 

Gold was the color of your iphone. Or, at least the color your iphone was before you threw it against the wall hours after returning to the palace. The sound startled your wait staff and it was only minutes before your mother was over the intercom scolding you for your un-lady like actions. He hadn’t answered. Not the first time, or the second time, or the thirty-third time – not that you were counting. He hadn’t even answered the tens of text messages you had sent. Nothing. Calum had gone radio silent and it was killing you. 

Gold was the color of the mask left in front of Calum’s door. The glistening mask, was tucked safety into a black box until he found it, opening it to reveal the mask. He observed the piece of craftsmanship, his fingers tracing the curve of the edges before he held it up to his face, the mask molding to his face perfectly. Calum placed the mask on his bed, turning his attention to the box it came in. He searched for a note, even something as simple as a dorm number in the hopes of finding out who sent him this, but more importantly why. In defeat, he flipped the box over and that’s when he saw it. Written in your loopy handwriting was the note he’d been looking for,  “meet me in the palace gardens at 10. I’ll be waiting.” 

Gold was the color of the golden retriever puppy chewing on the strap of your left heel. You fumbled with the right heel before unclasping it, you winced as your feet hit the cool concrete. “Stupid shoes,” you mumbled to yourself before tossing the right heel towards your dog, Reign. “Here, you can eat that one too.” 

You bent down to pat Reign before making your way over to the large bench situated in the corner of the garden. Sitting down, you reached your hand up to the tiara digging into your hair. With one swift movement you tugged it free, placing it down on the bench before unraveling your hair from the tight curls your mother had forced you to sport tonight. You were unraveling the last tendril when you noticed the looming figure standing near the dimly light passage way. Before you had time to greet the figure, Reign was off, his puppy legs hurling himself towards Calum. 

“Hi there buddy,” Calum laughed, before kneeling to pet the over excited pup. 

“Sorry about that,” you mumbled, tapping Reign’s nose while scolding him. 

“It’s okay,” Calum answered, eyes refusing to meet yours. 

The two of you stayed silent for what seemed to be forever. The only noise coming from Reigns whimpers as he tried to fit the entire heel of your shoe into his mouth. 

“You never returned any of my calls,” you breathed, a sudden wave of courage washing over you. 

“You lied to me.” 

Your heart dropped, sighing you grabbed his hand and lead him towards the garden bench you had previously been sitting on. Reign followed after, his tail wagging, totally oblivious to the storm that was brewing between Calum and you. 

“I didn’t lie.” 

“Okay, but you still didn’t tell me the truth,” Calum said, his eyes darted from the floor up to meet yours. “Why didn’t you tell me you were the Princess?” 

“It wasn’t important,” you shrugged. 

“You’re the fucking heir to the throne. I think it’s pretty important to tell the guy you’re dating that tidbit of information.” 

“We were d-dating?” you asked, stumbling over the foreign words. How could you not realize you were dating? 

“Are you serious, Y/N?” he shouted, stopping only when he realized his mistake. “Er, I mean Princess Y/N. What did you think we were doing? Last time I checked friends don’t just sneak out of their dorms and meet at the beach to go skinny dipping or spend hours binge watching stupid American sitcoms!” 

“Cal,” you choked, his name felt so foreign in your mouth. Almost like it didn’t belong. “Calum, I’m so sorry.” 

“Why’d you ask me to come tonight, Princess?” Calum asked, eyes stone cold and arms crossed in front of his chest. 

“Don’t call me that,” you groaned. “Just call me Y/N, okay?” 

“Fine,” he said. “Why did you ask me to come tonight, Y/N? Isn’t this supposed to be your debut or something? Find a nice Prince who has no shot at ruiling his own kingdom to woe you so he finally gets a shot?” 

“This isn’t Frozen,” you chuckled, finding humor in his comment despite the tension between the two of you. “But yeah, that’s the general idea of tonight.” 

“Well then I won’t keep you waiting,” he sighed, standing up from beside you. Calum bowed poorly towards you before turning around. He managed to take two steps, before something collided with his back. A pair of arms wrapping around his middle pleading with him to stay. “What are you doing?

“I don’t want any of those stupid Princes Calum,” you sobbed. “I want you and only you! Please don’t leave me.” 

“What about your parents?” he asked, hesitant to wrap his own arms around you. 

“They’ll get over it,” your cried, words muffled by the fabric of Calum’s shirt. “My mom’s not even a real royal so she can’t say anything bad about us.” 

“No more lies?” 

“I promise.” 

Gold was the color of the ring Calum presented to you on your 712 date. You’d been dating for nearly two years when the brown boy knelt down on one knee, brown eyes glistening with tears before he even opened his mouth. The candle light of the secluded table made the gold ring glimmer, the lights reflecting over the walls of the Italian restaurant. “Y/N Y/L/N, you may be the Princess to the country but to me you’re the Queen. I’d be honored if you’d take my hand in marriage, so we could one day rule this Kingdom together.” With shaky hands, Calum slid the gold ring onto your left finger while you cried cheers of joy. Finally, your life felt complete.