strands of pearls


The Signs as Nymphs
  • Aries: Lampades, the nymphs of the Underworld; these nymphs serve both Persephone and Hecate, powerful goddesses, as ladies in waiting and torchbearers. Their skin and eyes glimmer like a candle's flame, colored a brilliant, heady orange or as dark as coal; their smiles are blinding and their laugh is like the crackle of a flame.
  • Taurus: Alseides, the nymphs of glens; Taurean nymphs reside in meadows and groves, basking in the sunshine, walking with the deer and caring for the plants and animals; their skin is always rosy and sun-kissed and it shimmers like gold and smattered with the same soft pattern as a doe, and eyes like a doe's as well, thick hair braided intricately and decorated with flowers.
  • Gemini: Aurae, nymphs of the breeze; Gemini nymphs drift through the air, playing with human's hair and dancing through the leaves. Their skin is a soft, silvery blue, smooth as the sky, only broken by the small scales scattered across their cheeks and joints, all radiant blue; their hair floats around them and their voice is like chimes.
  • Cancer: Limnades, nymphs of lakes; these quiet nymphs drift through the murky water of lakes, playing with the fish and basking with alligators and turtles, and seducing anyone who might pass by. Their skin shimmers dully, slightly green in tint and their faces are tattooed with dark green stripes that decorate their cheeks like a trail of tears.
  • Leo: Anthousai, nymphs of flowers; these playful nymphs play in the forests, fields and gardens, flirting with unwitting humans and decorating themselves with flowers and plants. They smell like lilies and jasmine so butterflies flutter around their heads; their skin is patterned like irises, brilliant purples, golds and pinks, delicate like a water painting.
  • Virgo: Hydryades, nymphs of the trees; these quiet nymphs reside within trees and forests where they care for animals. Virgoan nymphs' skin is camouflaged so that they may blend in with the trees, dark and intricate patterns which stretch across their backs and decorate their faces, eyes slitted like a reptile's.
  • Libra: Nephelai, nymphs of the clouds; Libran nymphs are very rarely seen by humans as they reside in the clouds; they are dreamy, quiet and peaceful creatures who fly with the birds and provide the world with rain. Their skin is like pearl which varies from the softest white to the angry grey of a storm, their eyes are as pink as the sunrise and their hair floats around them in a haze.
  • Scorpio: Naiads, nymphs of freshwater; these nymphs can be found in rivers, lakes and springs where they hunt fish and anything else that wanders too close to the water's edge. They also seduce any humans who happen upon them. Their eyes are large and dark to see underwater, their hair a messy tangle and nails long and sharp; their skin is scaled like a koi's but a brilliant silver or bronze.
  • Sagittarius: Epimeliad, nymphs of apple tress and flocks; Sagittarian nymphs follow flocks and explore the world around them, playing with horses and cows and goats and seducing their owners; when they sleep they return to their original state, an apple tree. Their eyes are bright like a spark, their hair white like apple blossoms and wool and their skin is patterned like the bark of a tree.
  • Capricorn: Oreiades, nymphs of the mountains; these nymphs are highly reclusive and quiet, they reside in the most remote mountains in the world and are very rarely seen by humans. They resemble the animal of their Sign, their pupils rectangular and their eyes a sharp gold, small horns curving from their foreheads; their hair is kept in tight pleats, their skin speckled softly to blend in with the jagged rocks.
  • Aquarius: Asteriai, nymphs of the stars; these nymphs live far away in the vast expanses of space where they drift and play in complete silence: constellations are their embrace, shooting stars their tears. Their skin is as brilliant as the sun, golden, red and even deep blue, and it shimmers in an unending pulse of light.
  • Pisces: Haliae, nymphs of the sea; Piscean nymphs reside in the sea and can occasionally be spotted dancing on the seashore. Their hair reaches their ankles, strands of pearls and shells woven within it; their skin has a pearlescent sheen from years spent in the water and small scales, pink and pearl-like, decorate their webbed hands and creep up their legs.
Elsewhere University- Feathers

Like a whole bunch of other people, I saw @charminglyantiquated ’s Elsewhere University Comic and got SUPER INSPIRED. And since she’s so generously encouraging other people to play in her sandbox, I present ‘Feathers’.  EDIT : PART 2 HERE

You go to Elsewhere University. You’ve been going to Elsewhere University for (years and years and years and years) for three years now. You know how things are. You’re not an RA, but… Mm, you could have been.

Might still be. Aren’t yet.

This is your junior year (you think). You know how things are. You carry salt in one pocket, iron in another, trinkets to bargain away in your book bag, offerings in your purse, pearls around your neck.

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Roses - Fred Weasley

Prompt: Ravenclaw reader has been receiving gifts from an anonymous sender and after her friend drags her to the second match of the Triwizard Tournament, their identity is revealed.

Word count: 7,305 (sorry I got carried away)

Warnings: Maybe two swear words, other than that nothing

A bouquet of luscious red rose tied together rested against the door frame. Your breath hitched in your throat as your school work fell from your hands. They collided with the floor in an instant creating an echoing crash to follow.

Most cases you would have rushed to pick them up but the gift contained all your attention. Your fingers pressed to the side of your jaw, the palm of your hand covering your mouth to mask the gasp.

You scanned the hallway searching for any form of life. The empty corridor suggested no lead on as to who dropped the surprise off. Although there was a note attached to the clear plastic outer layer.

Bending down at the knees you plucked the thick card from the envelope and flipped it open. Excitement flooded you like a schoolgirl receiving a valentine. Not that this was too far from reality.

You unfolded the card gleefully yearning to see who the sender was. The tilted black cursive reflected opposite to the chicken scratch you had been gifted with the week before. This was neat, almost as if it had come fresh from a typewriter.

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anonymous asked:

because the winter finale of S6, au in which princess!Emma has a pirate sneaking into her bedroom at night and all the guards secretly know but they tell no one of the royal family about it

Y’know I should probably finish this one before it all gets Jossed to hell this Sunday…

Quite on accident, Emma found herself half in love with a pirate, of all people.

She’d accepted her young widowhood quite graciously, focusing all of her energies on raising her son – and a fine young man Henry was turning out to be. She’d thought nothing else would honor her late husband’s memory than to ensure that their son, the future crown prince, would bring nothing but honor to their family.

But Henry was growing up, as all young boys do, and as he went squiring about and having his own adventures, he needed his mother less. Emma found herself drifting from one activity to the next, bestowing her princess’ favor upon charities and the good people of her kingdom, but something felt… off.


Until the night a man vaulted over the railing of her balcony, mistaking her rooms for some treasure vault.

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caffeine challenge

There’s a boy whose voice is a siren song to my flowers; under his tone they bloom more beautifully than ever before.

He first wandered into the tiny shop on a rainy morning, as the succulents protested where they were being dripped on, and he brushed rain-damp brown hair from his eyes and sang a lullaby to the insomniac moonflowers until they rested as they were supposed to, and then he smiled at me. He had no umbrella, he explained, and hoped he could wait out the rain here.

I did my best to ask why he ignored the cafe next door in favor of my over-crowded shop and again he smiled and took a seat and the tulips stretched to reach him, petals brushing the back of his neck. I mouthed an apology, batted them away until they grew as usual, and he let out a little chuckle at my tone of reprimand. When I asked his name I was met with yet another curl of his lips; it seemed all he did was smile or sing, a hum in his throat even as I continued moving the cacti away from the leaky window, and he did sit there until the rain let up.

He was strange, but a good strange, a familiar strange, the way the glassblower on 4th Street feels, and he slipped through my wards like silk as he left after an hour of companionable silence, the violets shivering as he whispered goodbye.

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They Wanna Make Me Their Queen

( Prompt: princess diaries style “I grew up not knowing I was royal and suddenly my royal grandparent showed up out of nowhere and told me I was so now I guess I’m the heir to the throne and you’re my crush from my pre-royal days but I still have a crush on you” AU ) 


A/N: So my crush talked to me today ( it was just a simple hello but I DIED ), and I died again when I saw Tom Holland strip down to his boxers in that new trailer. My friends are probably sick and tired of hearing about me rant about Tom Holland’s abs and my new husband, Matt Murdock.

Taglist (temporary): @theactualscarletwitch | @moonlight53 | @intohook | @alaskayoung-x | @kubby14679 | @clean-and-claire | @fandoms-broke-my-life | @johnmurphys-sass | @queenofthelavalamps

Taglist (permanent): @mainspidey | @x-wing-starwriter | @tomsleftbrow | @tryn25 | @tanglefire |@midnight-memorial | @tiny-friggin-human

As it turns out, you don’t have to worry about keeping secrets from your friends for long.

After about a month of gruelling ‘after-school’ sessions with an endless string of tutors, of having to come up with flimsy excuses for cancelling on outings and get-togethers, of having to tough out the agony of avoiding Peter’s soft and concerned eyes that beg you to tell him what’s wrong, the paparazzi snap pictures of you and your grandmother having afternoon tea in the Hilton. They’d put two and two together, and before you could say, “I have a crush on Peter Parker”, pictures of you are splashed all over the front page.

Your phone’s been buzzing non-stop, but you’ve been ignoring the messages and missed calls – Did you even know fifty people from Midtown High? – too focused on your very furious grandmother, who’s been pacing the room, a wild animal in cage. Peter’s face, coupled with his adorable smile, flashes across your screen for the tenth time; you flip your phone over so that you won’t have to see his picture.

“Grandmother, I’m sorry,” You apologise meekly. “This is my fault.”

Throwing the papers aside with an impatient huff, your grandmother rounds on you, her eyes fierce and piercing. You almost regret having said anything.

“Silly child,” She says, her tone warm and exasperated all at once. “How on earth is it your fault? It’s the damn press –”

You’ve never heard her swear before. It makes you giggle.

“Frankly, I’m surprised that we’ve been able to keep you out of the public eye for so long.” She shakes her head, deep in thought. “But now that the – How do you say – dog’s out of the kennel, we’ll just have to make the most of things.”

“What’s going to happen to my baby?” Your mother demands, going into full mother-bear mode, her voice holding an edge of protectiveness to it. “Is (Y/n) going to be safe?”

(M/n), I assure you that precautions are being taken, even as we speak. There will be increased security –”

You’re sure your face turns pale at the thought of having a team of beefy bodyguards on your heels 24/7.

“– We’ll enroll her in some self-defense classes, we’ll get her a Taser, some pepper spray … Whatever’s necessary. I swear on the Crown of Serangoon that I will do anything and everything in my power to keep (Y/n) safe.” Grandmother sighs then, having gotten it out of her system, and continues. “However, I think a press conference is in order. We’ll have to introduce (Y/n) to the public officially, and the date of Coronation Day will have to be pushed forward –”

Your mother and grandmother launch into a deep and lengthy conversation about banquets, fittings, classes. And all you can do is sit there, your head spinning, a satellite out of orbit.

At least you don’t faint this time. 

It’s progress, at least, you think.

You walk into school the next day, and nearly run out screaming for Stanley to take you back home, press camped outside the school be damned.

Stanley had had to muscle his way through about three feet of screaming paparazzi pressing themselves onto you from all directions, screaming out their questions, the camera flashes blinding and searing themselves into your retinas.

Everyone wants a piece of you, it seems. Kids goggle at you when you walk down the halls; in addition to the news article, there had been a news report filled with pictures of you: From a smiley, gap-toothed, pig-tailed (Y/n) to a teenaged (Y/n), smashing her cheek with Peter, clowning about for the camera. The press had raided your Snapchat, Instagram and Facebook accounts, it seemed. You’d had the misfortune of seeing the report at a diner, but the fortune of having Stanley and his limo nearby; you’d ran out before anyone could identify you.

Kids you barely know, have barely talked to in the past year – nerds, jocks, Queen Bees – all stop to talk to you. A year ago, you wouldn’t have been breathing the same air as them; but now, all everyone wants is to talk to you, to ask for your autograph, to invite you to parties.

Worse, your friends are slipping away. You manage to wave to Michelle only once, in a corridor, surrounded by your new fan club. She doesn’t return it. Her eyes are huge and dark and accusing, all at once. As for Peter – he’s taken to spending time with Ned, and he can’t quite look you in the eyes, even when you try to catch his gaze. 

You know that you have a whole lot of apologizing and explaining to do, but how can you possibly start if your friends have already decided that they want nothing to do with you? To avoid encountering Peter, you bury yourself in your phone and hurry away. Every instance leaves you with a frigid soreness buried so deep inside that no amount of heat could wring it out.

On second thought, you accept that party invitation.

You’re wearing a slim black Costume National sheath dress, a strand of pearls around your neck. Your hair is neat, your face made up with a thick layer of makeup. You look like you’re a famous model – or a princess – and you can feel the press staring at you as you walk into the room with Grandmother.

You’d caved, had tried to dial Peter on your cell phone with trembling fingers, but it’d gone straight to voicemail. You try not to think it’s because he hates you.

Grandmother handles the interview like a pro. Public speaking is not your forte – there had been an unfortunate incident in the fourth grade involving a judging panel at the annual talent show, and the front row of students being covered in vomit. All you have to do is fix a vapid smile onto your glossed lips, sitting stiffly between your mother and grandmother.

“Princess (Y/n),” Someone’s saying your name now, and you immediately glance up, more than a little startled at being addressed. “We’ve received pictures of you and a boy identified as Peter Parker. Is he your boyfriend?”

Your hands are shaking. Your knuckles are white when you ball them up into fists. You might have a security detail, a whole armoury of weapons and weekly self-defense classes, but Peter, Ned and Michelle don’t. If you’re not careful, someone could hurt them to get to you. 

And you don’t think you could live with yourself if it did happen.

Protect your friends, only to lose them … Or disregard their safety for your own selfishness?

It’s not even a choice.

Your mouth is dry. You have to practically force the words out of your mouth. “No. No, they – Peter was just a … He’s not important. None of them are.”

The moment the lie leaves your lips, you want to scream. You want to take all your words back.

But you can’t.

anonymous asked:

Any way you could do a camp counseers bugead au? Thanks! 💖💖💖💕💕💕

This ones so cute, oh my goodness!

Betty Cooper, without a doubt the most beautiful female to grace MapleOak, summer camp for the neglected and abused, was currently standing beside him, practically bouncing with excitement. Her best friend Veronica lodge, looked severely out of place, strands of pearls hanging over a bright red tank top and tight jeans. Betty on the other hand looked like she belonged here, A loose fitting, soft denim button up rolled at the sleeves, khaki shorts and tiny white sneakers.

She was a vision.

Everyone knew about the two best friends, they were fairly popular amongst the counselor circuit, the campers loved Betty more than any other counselor and there was talk parents paid extra money to have their children placed in her group. Veronica lodge was popular amongst the prepubescent teens at maple oak and serious rival of Cheryl blossom, the other scantily clad camp counselor with fiery red hair.

Speaking of red hair, he slapped his best friend Archie Andrews on the shoulder, catching him staring at Veronica.

“Dude really?”

Archie shrugged sheepishly

“I’ve wanted her since we started counseling here three years ago, give me a break”

As soon as their leader called break and told them to head off and get their group assignments, Jughead spun around, bumping forehead to forehead with none other than betty cooper.

Placing his hand to his forehead and rubbing, he looked up and caught the most beautiful green eyes he’d ever seen.

“Ouch” she giggled.

“Shit” he said shaking himself out of his thoughts “I mean … shoot. I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking.”

She shook her head laughing
“No harm no foul, Jughead, Jughead jones right?” She stuck her hand out “Elizabeth Cooper, but you can call me Betty.”

She knew his name?

“I know who you are, it’s kind of hard to not know who you are, miss counselor of the year.”

She blushed “oh jeez, that’s all talk, I just love the kids.”

He nodded, dazed. Did her hair always look so silky?

“Sure, yeah me too.”

“Did you get your group assignment yet?” She asked politely.

Shaking his head

“No, I’m headed over there now.”

She smiled brightly taking him by the arm.

“Oh Great! Me too, I could use an escort!”
Suddenly he was being dragged to the table and she was shifting through the paper work.

“Aha!” She smiled holding two pieces of paper in the air “Elizabeth Cooper & Forsythe Jones, forsythe?” He blushed looking down “its cute, I like it.” Her eyes scanned her paperwork quickly smiling, “not bad! I’ve got a good crew this year! What about you?”

Jughead looked his paper over, he’d had all these kids before it was gonna be good to see how they were growing up, make sure they were okay.

“Oh!” Betty smiled peeking over his shoulder, “were bunk buddies, how cool is that! I’ve always only had Kevin! It’s like fate right juggie?”

He smiled softly, he’d never heard that nickname before, it sounded good coming from her. Sending a quick thank you to god for not pairing him up with Ethel again, he nodded as enthusiastically as a moody, angst filled boy could.
“ it’ll be cool, I’m warning you, I snore.”

She giggled, “well lucky for you I fall asleep to music anyway”

“I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS.” They both drew their eyes over to Cheryl blossom, who seemed to be throwing a temper tantrum regarding her group.

Suddenly Veronica and Archie were by their sides, Veronica rolling her eyes

“Here we go, drama queen alert.”

Cheryl was ranting and throwing her paper on to the table “I am not taking this brat! You people put me with him last year and he tried to steal all of my clothes. It’s not happening. It’s me or him.” Before he knew it Betty had left his side and was speaking to the camp leader

“I can take him. There’s always an extra visitors bunk, and I don’t mind having an extra camper.” She shrugged her shoulders , the camp leader looked about ready to kiss her feet.
“Thank you ms.cooper, Cheryl I don’t want to hear another word about your group or you’ll be gone, understood?”

The redhead nodded, throwing Betty a smirk

“It’s your funeral.”

Rolling her eyes, Betty moved back to his side.

“I’m so sorry I did that, I wasn’t thinking. Is it okay that we added another camper to our bunk, I’m sure I can talk to..”

He cut her off squeezing her shoulder

“It’s fine bets, what’s one more?”

She smiled gently, squeezing his hand


Suddenly the whistle was blown and it was time to meet the campers.

Veronica grabbed Betty and turned to the boys

“Ready for one crazy summer?”

Jughead met Betty’s eyes and smiled

Archie laughed

“I’m so ready.”

I’m sorry but when Taako shoved his soul out of his body to save Magnus, and Magnus finally saw Taako as he dragged him out of there, he saw some real oldschool shoujo manga shit.  Taako was beautiful and etherial as all fuckin get out.  His hair was gently floating around him.  There were floating bubbles and sparkles and all of that.  Probably flowing fabric and strands of pearls and crystals and whatever.  (please imagine them connecting to Taako’s real body because that would be super rad.)

Magnus got saved from a terrifying void-y tar pit by the most beautiful and etherial version of Taako’s soul, because it was the part of Taako’s soul powered by love.  And it was fucking gorgeous.

Library Time - Revamped

Author: MelBelle45

Author Notes: Revamped to make it better. I also included my very first aesthetic. This fic is based off of the two Jensen pics. Beta’d by the ever lovely @avasmommy224

Pairing: Dean X Reader

Warnings: Smut (oral: both; smutty, smut, smut)

Word Count: 1,879

Summary: You’ve always wanted to try out the library. With Sam not home, here’s your chance.


“That was one hell of a wedding,” you said, throwing your black clutch purse on the bed before undoing your strand of pearls. You toed off your red heels by the door to the room you shared with Dean. You inhaled the bunker scent – a bit of metal, a bit of old books, a bit of leather and dampness. A very manly smell, but a smell that was home to you and calmed you instantly.

“Literally,” you heard Dean in the kitchen and headed that way. “It’s not every day Crowley gets married…and we were invited.” You rounded the corner to find him, tux jacket still on, tie loosened just enough to unbutton the top two buttons of the crisp, white shirt. He had a small glass tumbler in one hand, a bottle of whiskey in the other.

“Champagne not enough for you?” you smirked, leaning on the island in front of him. You noticed his eyes rested on the ample cleavage you bore with your position. Your black dress was low cut, but leaning on the island simply made his view even better. There was a burning in those green eyes that always put that familiar wanting in your stomach. He glanced away only to pour the amber liquid into the glass, the smell of aged alcohol filling the air around you.

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3rd Times the Charm

Prompt: The day of batmom and Bruce’s wedding, she has a mental breakdown of a typical bride to be?? And it’s the most funniest thing ever because she completely loses it when Bruce’s sees her in her dress before the wedding? And some of the leaguers video taped this so like fast forward to where they had the batkids he shows this to them

AN: I’ve had a lot of requests for this one and it’s finally here!

Words: 1918

You find the tape while cleaning, an actual tape. It’s hidden in the back of a drawer in your dresser. You smile as you turn it over in your hands before making your way down to the viewing room. Despite being outdated, Bruce had kept the video tape player. Your husband was just a bit of a pack rat. You pop it in before settling down into one of the plush chairs.

          That fuzzy screen shows for a minute before it suddenly cuts in. Your first thought, is that he looks young. Then again, twenty-one is young. You can’t help but smile a bit at the first shot of the camera; it’s of Bruce getting ready.

          He’s wearing only the pants to his tux, his upper body still undressed. You take a moment to stare at his chest, it’s relatively scar free compared to now. He’s just slipping his shirt on when he notices the camera. There’s not a hint of annoyance as he smiles at the camera, and asks,“Really, Alfred?”

“It’s your wedding day Master Bruce. I will videotape to my heart’s content.”

Bruce smiles a bit wider, before he starts buttoning his shirt. “Have you checked on Y/N? Is she nervous?”

“I saw her briefly this morning, when I forced some dry toast upon her. I made sure to put some wool socks on her feet.”

You smile at the memory. You had been scared out of your mind to marry Bruce. And it wasn’t because you didn’t love him, or anything like that, it was simply the size of the crowd. Over four hundred people had attended your wedding, and you hadn’t been very good with crowds in those early days. And your wedding, it had been a who’s who of Gotham socialites, and even now, nearly eleven years later, was regarded as one the events of the century.

          You couldn’t exactly disagree either. Alfred had pulled out all the stops, and had planned a dream wedding. In fact, you’d barely had to talk to any of those socialites, because Alfred had kept them so well boozed. He truly was an amazing party planner.

You watch as the camera is set down on the chair, and as Alfred comes into the shot and helps Bruce tie his tie.

“Man he was young.”

You jump a bit at the sound of Jason’s voice as he leapfrogs over the back of the seat to land in the chair next to you. “What party is he getting ready for here? Children’s Hospital Gala?”

You smile,“Not quite.”

“Then what is it?”

You jump again as Dick’s voice sounds from behind of you, this time when you turn to look, you find your three remaining sons there. Each of them takes a seat near you, while waiting for your answer, but you don’t give it to them. “Give it a minute and you’ll figure it out.”

All four give you a puzzled look, before the camera cuts out, and the screen goes fuzzy for a moment. “Did they not have transition in the olden days?” Damian asks.

Your eye twitches a bit at Damian’s words,“This is on tape, not DVD, and it’s a home video.”

Damian just shrugs,“Perhaps, but decent editing really does wonders.”

Tim just rolls his eyes,“You still haven’t told us what this is. I mean we know it has to be special, it’s not like Alfred always films Bruce getting dressed, but …”

His voice trails off as you appear on the screen, wearing your wedding dress. Out of the corner of your eye you watch as the boys lean in a bit, to get a better look. It’s a simple dress, all lace, and strapless. You’re wearing your hair down, and slightly curled. Your veil doesn’t hang in front of your face, but it’s rather long, long enough to touch the floor.

Your twenty-one-year-old self is biting her lip, her hands smoothing down the dress, as she stares at in the mirror. “All right Miss. Bride-to-be, arms up.”

You do as you’re told without question, and Janet Drake appears on screen a moment later. You squeeze Tim’s hand as he takes a sharp breath at the sight of his mother. She carefully ties a blue sash around your waist, and fusses with the bow for several seconds before admiring her handiwork.

A red-head appears in the frame a moment later, and Dick asks,“Is that…”

You nod,“Barbara Gordon Sr. She, Janet and I connected after Bruce and I returned to Gotham. They were older than me, it was a bit like having sisters to be honest.”

“She looks just like her.”

You smile,“It’s like looking into the past sometimes.”

Barbara’s voice rings out clear,“Don’t you mean MRS?” She and Janet have a good laugh before recovering.

Janet smiles at the camera,“Of course I do, Y/N is the only single one left, but not for long.”

Barbara turns to you, drawing your attention,“To be honest, everyone thought you and Bruce would come back with a kid, or at least be married.”

You shrug, finally turning away from your reflection,“Technically we are married, we have been for the past two years. We had this little ceremony in Tibet. Very simple, and very legal. This ceremony is for Alfred.”

You finally turn to face the butler and his camera, showing off the full front of the dress. Alfred’s amused voice comes from the other side of the camera, “And I’m very grateful you’re doing it. It is very gracious of you.”

You smile at that, and you watch as the nerves melt away, as Alfred distracts you. You smile,“Don’t you mean guilt us into it. You went on for two weeks about how sad you were that you weren’t there. You talked nonstop about not even having a photograph to imagine it by. And then the piece de resistance you went on and on about how Bruce’s mother, and my mother would have loved to see us get married.”

“Well they would have.” All five of you jump at the sound of the new voice, as Alfred comes around the chairs with popcorn. “More than once Martha Wayne wondered about what kind of woman her son would marry. I’m happy to say that she would have been more than pleased.”

You smile as you take your popcorn from Alfred. The butler takes a seat at the end of the row, and everyone’s attention refocus’ on the screen. You watch as the camera changes hands, and Barbara takes the camera. A much younger looking Alfred steps in front of the camera, and holds out a velvet box to you. “This is from Master Bruce.”

Your twenty-one-year-old self smiles as she takes the box and opens it. Your eyes go wide as they flash back to Alfred. “It is a custom in the Wayne family, for the men to present their brides with a strand of pearls on their wedding day. Typically, the mother-in-law would bring them, but since Mrs. Wayne is unable to be here, Master Bruce asked me. I hope you don’t mind.”  

The girl in the video shakes her head, as the younger Alfred carefully removes the pearls from the box, and steps behind her. As he fastens the clasp, he says,“I can assure you, that this is one part of the ceremony that I did not help with. Master Bruce had this necklace custom made for you. He hopes it can be your something new.”

You see just a hint of tears on your face before Janet cries out,“Don’t cry.” You can hear the tears in her voice as she says,“I’m already going to have to redo my mascara, and we don’t have time to redo yours.”

Barbara reappears, as Alfred takes the camera back. As the two women start in on a debate about waterproof mascara, and it’s pros and cons, the camera focus’ on you.

In the video, you’re lost in your own little world. You have this small smile on your face, and your fingers are lightly brushing against the pearls at your neck, and then the video cuts out again.

There’s a barrage of hey’s, and what’s going on’s and where’s the rest, before you smile and say,“The photographer we hired ended up trying to sell the photos, and instead of giving them back to us as the court ordered and paying the fine, he burned the photos and the wedding video he was editing.”

Tim’s voice goes deadpan as he says, “You can’t be serious.”

Alfred scoffs,“Unfortunately she is. Their wedding was a hot ticket item, and he had the only pictures in existence. Guests were not allowed cameras, and we even declared the sky over the entirety of Gotham a no fly zone for the day. We had intense security, and each guest was patted down on arrival, to make sure they had no recording devices. We wanted to keep the ceremony intimate.”

You laugh and say to the boys,“Originally the guest list was at six hundred and then I threatened to do something at city hall and we compromised on four hundred.”

“Well, you looked very pretty Mom,” Tim says.

The other boys nod, and then Dick asks,“Do you still have your dress?”

You nod,“Alfred made sure it was indestructible. I think he put it in a vault.”

The butler just smiles,“Well I thought that if you and Master Wayne ever had a daughter that may like to wear it. It’s good as new after all.”

          Jason smirks,“And what size is the dress?”

          Your eyes narrow,“A fourteen,” You say slowly.

          Damian full out grins,“And your size now?”

          Your eyes go wide as what they’re truly asking dawns on you. You point at them and say,“No.”

“She’s still a fourteen.” You twist in your seat to face your husband.

He’s still dressed in his suit from Wayne Enterprises, and he’s grinning down at you. “You no good traitor! You don’t reveal your wife’s dress size!”

He just shrugs “Why? You’re beautiful, and I wouldn’t mind doing it a third time.”

You stare at him “Really, you? You, who hates the socialite scene, doesn’t mind getting married in front of a big crowd again?”

Bruce just smirks and leans in to kiss you. When he pulls back he says,“I like marrying you. We always have a wonderful time afterwards. Remember last time? We barricaded ourselves in the lake house and didn’t come out for days.”

There several fake gagging noises from the boys, before Tim lets out a shrill whistle,“Listen up boys, if we’re going to recreate this thing we only have a few weeks. Their anniversary is in less than three weeks. We already have a dress, but there’s still everything else to be done.” He turns to Alfred,“Any chance you still have your notes?”

Alfred just grins “Of course. I’ll go fetch them.”

Tim just grins and says,“Great. We’ll have to add to the guest list. Of course the Leaguers will have to be there, and there’s new contacts to be made…” Then all the boys and Alfred are walking out of the viewing room talking a mile a minute.

          When they’re gone you turn to your husband with a stupefied look, and all he says is,“You want to go practice for our third honeymoon?”

I have a picture of the dress that I found on pinterest if you want to see it :) 


Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (Royal AU)

Summary: Prince James approaches his crown princess girlfriend with hopes of finding out why she still hasn’t accepted his marriage proposal, only to learn about the burdens responsible for the future Queen’s hesitation.

This story was heavily inspired by the following:
- series “By Royal Decree” written by @bovaria
- “The Crown” starring Claire Foy, Matt Smith, etc.
- the 30 page paper I wrote in Year 11 about the queens of England and Britain

A/N: Bucky is a Romanian prince [imagine the Romanian monarchy is still intact for this story], but not the heir apparent (think Prince Harry of Wales). Reader’s nation is purposely not specified.

It’s gloomy outside, the skies painted with gray with the threat of rain. Not much light filters through the window, but she appears to effortlessly attract light as if she’s an elemental force.

She’s a vision in royal blue, the dress specially made for her body proportions. Her back bears the straight posture of a ballerina, her legs elongated by the pearl gray pumps. While he can’t see it, he knows she’s wearing a strand of pearls that’s been passed down generations.

She is (Y/N), the crown princess of her nation and hopefully his future wife.

It felt right to propose, especially with six years of dating under their belt. Their relationship started after college and kept steady, even during his military service. She was his best friend and vice versa. He felt unanchored without her, and she was able to escape through him.

It also worked out perfectly with their royal duties. Bucky had always been one of the few eligible princes for (Y/N) to marry, but both royals weren’t aware of this until two years into their romantic relationship. From the start, Bucky knew he and (Y/N) were endgame, and it was a lucky coincidence that protocol and tradition wanted them to be endgame as well.

The Romanian prince was also aware of (Y/N)’s situation. Due to a series of health problems, her father planned on stepping down from the throne. He and Parliament created a plan of transition, meaning in two years, (Y/N) would be anointed and crowned as Queen.

Bucky watches his woman gaze out the main window of her study, and he can practically see the gears in her head racing. Though she handles everything with grace and resilience, Bucky knows her days are emotionally taxing for her. He can only imagine the irremovable burden she carries on her shoulder as the heir apparent.

Keep reading

Saturday’s and Weddings

Bruce Wayne X Reader

Word Count: 1438

Notes: Soul Mark Universe, where the first words spoken to you by your soul-mate appear in a random spot on your body, on your sixteenth birthday.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

      When you agree to marry Bruce Wayne, you assure yourself that you have plenty of time. The boys don’t see it that way. Almost immediately after you say yes, you and Bruce are meeting with wedding planners that Tim has already vetted.

          You’re a bit surprised, since you only said yes yesterday, but you go with it. Strangely, Bruce seems in his element, and actually has questions prepared. You decide to just go with things. You end up going with a man who has put on quite a few weddings, and is more than ready and willing to go. You smell a rat in the air.  

          Every time you meet with the wedding planner, one of the boys is always there, if one of them can’t make it then Alfred or Bruce is there. Within the span of a month a theme is picked compete with china patterns, and color scheme.

          The next week Alfred helps you with the guest list. He has an entire book dedicated to who to invite and who NOT to invite. The second looks very similar to a little black book. You decide that you’re better off not knowing.

          Dick is the one who helps you pick the venue, also known as your very own home. He paints a picture as he describes you descending the grand staircase, in a lovely dress with a bouquet of flowers and you just can’t say no. After all, this place has history; it’s where the boys grew up, it’s where Bruce grew up, it’s where so many happy memories took place. Plus, you almost feel like Martha and Thomas Wayne can be there if you have it here.  Dick is delighted when you take him up on the suggestion, and as a bonus, there’s no deposit to put down. Invitations are sent out.

          Damian suggests opening up the doors to the ballroom and having the reception both outside and inside. Plus, it’ll give the catering service time to set up during the cocktail hour. You start to feel as though it’s the boys planning the wedding and not the very expensive wedding planner you hired. All the man seems to do is sit around and agree with your boys. You decide to let it slide as RSVP’s start rolling in.

          Jason is the one who does the food tasting with you. The boy seems to know good food better than anyone you’ve ever met, and you trust his opinion. You go through four different caterers, before Jason declares the fifth one perfect. That’s fine with you, the food tasted heavenly.

          Almost everything is done, except the dress. You do that by yourself. The wedding is in the middle of summer which means a sleeveless dress, with a sweetheart neckline. You find it at the third shop you go to. You’re worn out and almost ready to give up, but you see it and you fall in love. It’s white and covered in lace with a blue sash around the waist. The train isn’t too long, and the veil is nice and long with lace edges.

It reminds you of the little country wedding you wanted when you were a little girl. Despite your city upbringings you wanted the exact opposite of what your parents’ wedding had been. You wanted a nice little small affair, with a man you loved, and the people you cared about most surrounding you. You decide two out of three isn’t bad, and this simpler dress will add the perfect mix of that to the big day. Especially when paired with your Louis Vuitton pumps. You were still a city girl at heart after all.

With the dress in toe you return home. You do your best to sneak by the boys without them knowing, but they’re professionally trained ninjas and you don’t stand a chance. They’re like dogs going after table scraps, all trying to get the dress out of your hands and get a peak. Even Bruce is participating.

Alfred is the one to save you. He sweeps the dress out of your hands and declares that he’ll store it until the big day. With a pointed look at the men surrounding you he disappears into his quarters. Not even Bruce would go after it now. You escape before they can start hounding you for details, and decide to lay low for the next several days.

When the announcement of your wedding hits the papers you get a call from your mother. You can feel the headache coming before you even answer the phone. You’re in the middle of a family movie night, and you know if you don’t answer, it will look weird. So, you do your best to vanish from the room.

You’re gone for ten minutes before they realize you’re gone. They pause the movie and go looking for you. They find you at the dining room table, your phone is face up, and despite not having it on speaker your mother’s every word can be heard perfectly. You’re flipping through a magazine and doing your best to ignore her outrage at not being invited.

You nod a greeting at the phone before Jason just suddenly declares in a loud voice, “What a bitch.” Usually you’d reprimand him for language, but in this case he’s just right. Your mother continues on and Damian states “She’s like one of those wind up monkeys with cymbals, except she just doesn’t stop.” Tim goes next “I don’t know, her voice kind of reminds of one of those yappy dogs.” Everyone turns to Dick, waiting for his comment and he just shrugs. “I’ve got nothing but a headache from the sound of her voice.” Bending down Bruce asks “We didn’t send you parents an invitation, did we?”

You simply smile “Why do you think I got this call.” Bruce just smiles and presses the end call icon before saying “We’ll get you a new number tomorrow, for now block the number.” You simply shrug and go back to your movie.  

          After that, the wedding mayhem seems to calm down. The next several months go by in a flash and before you know it, it’s your big day. Alfred separates you and Bruce for the night, placing you in a room on the other side of the manor. You have a pretty good feeling that the boys are going to camp out with him in your room tonight, and celebrate his last night of “freedom.”

          So you’re more than a little surprised when there’s a knock on your door, you’re even more surprised to find Damian there. He’s carrying an envelope and you step to the side to allow him in. He climbs onto your bed without hesitation and you plop down beside him.

          He doesn’t talk at first, but you know it sometimes takes time with him. So you wrap your arm around his shoulders and wait. He doesn’t talk, only hands you the envelope. What’s inside melts your heart. They’re adoption papers… for Damian. “Father got Talia to sign them. All you have to do is sign where the arrow is… if you want to that is.”

          You drop the papers and pull him into a bone crushing hug. “I want nothing more in the world.” you assure him, and then say “Got a pen?”

          He pulls one out of his robe pocket and the door creaks open, as the rest of the boys appear with their own envelops in hand. They’re all too old to fall under your parental guardianship, but that doesn’t mean you can’t still adopt them. You sign a flurry of papers that night, before they return to Bruce.

          The next day you get ready with the help of Barbara, Cass, and Stephanie. You’re just about ready to head down the aisle when Alfred arrives with a velvet box. The girls go to stand at the ready while Alfred waits for you to open the box. Inside is a beautiful strand of pearls. “From Master Bruce, it’s tradition for Wayne men to give their brides-to-be pearls on the wedding day.” he explains as he moves to fasten them for you.

          You smile at the the reflection of you two in the mirror. Then you grab your phone to capture the moment with the butler who has become like a father to you over the past two years. He obliges you, even smiling for the picture, before offering his arm as you hear the start of the wedding march. Silently you take his arm and he walks you down the aisle.

The Mysterious Miranda (Chapter 10) (Smut)


pairing: lin manuel miranda x reader, daveed diggs x reader

summary: Your cousin Anthony drags you along to one of his neighbor’s infamous parties with his girlfriend, keeping you from a night in. Mr. Miranda, the host, is a mysterious man, but that isn’t the part that gets to you.

warnings: smut, cheating, lil bit of angst, 1920s slang(??), my portrayal of a 1920s burn, lots of fluff

words: 6660 (im so sorry for so many reasons yall)

a/n: Alternatively titled: Poor Anthony™

hi guys i swear i still write stuff! it’s just been a crazy last month, but I’ve finally finished this part! I’m so sorry it took so long, I feel kinda bad about it, but I hope it was worth the wait! 

I figured out the only bright side to burning my arm this past week and treating it at home; firsthand research and experience for TMM! I learned more in 2 days than the 2 weeks I had spent researching the topic.

Thank you to @psychedemigod for keeping me company while I was writing a lot of this and helping out here and there, and thank you to @secretschuylersister for being so supportive and reading it over, leaving much-appreciated commentary.  

If you want to be tagged in the next parts, just shoot me an ask! I absolutely love to hear feedback from anybody and everybody, I can’t begin to express how much it means to me. 

tags: @isis278 @21phantasticromances @dvddggs @l-nmanuel@bluesnowyangel @hamrevolution @hell-yes-puns-and-ships @accidentally-impeccable @paintingpetrichors

part one part two part three part four part five part six part seven part eight part nine


Barneymugging — Lovemaking

Now you’re on the trolley! — Now you’ve got it!

Slimp—Cheapskate or “one-way guy”.

“Her heart sank into her shoes as she realized at last how much she wanted him. No matter what his past was, no matter what he had done. Which was not to say that she would ever let him know, but only that he had moved her chemically more than anyone she had ever met, that all other men seemed pale beside him.” -F. Scott Fitzgerald

Keep reading

Realize -- Chapter Nine “Unexpected”

Tom HiddlestonxReader and Sebastian StanxReader

I’ve been reading too many imagines on @theartofimagining13 and some from my own silly brain …  These people are getting out of hand! They do what they want! haha Here’s Chapter Nine! :)


@greeneyedgirls4 @kianya-loves


@foureyedsiopao, @frenchfrostpudding, @t-w-hiddlestoner , @moonpoetsasylum

chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four | chapter five | chapter six | chapter seven | chapter eight

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

i think its interesting rose had the ability to leave earth anytime, with pd's ship, but never told pearl or the others about it. and we know from space race p loved space..

……Yeah, that’s actually a pretty big deal. It raises the question of if Pearl knew the ship was there but for some reason was more determined not to reveal it than she was to leave Earth in Space Race.

I mean I still find it incredibly dodgy in Rose’s Scabbard that Pearl tells Steven that he’s not allowed to tell Garnet and Amethyst about the armory. We still don’t have a solid answer on what’s there that Pearl would need to hide from them- even more suspicious because the armory itself seems weirdly hidden, much like the trash pile was- Steven actually asks Lion “why couldn’t we have just warped here?” and it reminds me of how ridiculously out of the way Pearl’s trek to Rose’s armory was- travelling miles from the warp and climbing a vertical cliff.

It’s odd to make such an incredibly out-of-the-way journey if there’s nothing to hide there- or if Rose didn’t have another way there. Or both, most likely.

Honestly I have to wonder if that is going to be super relevant especially because while we have an increasing number of settings in space- with Navy stealing back the Rubies’ ship, the team’s stranded because Peridot and Pearl both agreed that the ship Centi’s crew is currently occupying is pretty dang irreparable- but honestly even though it’s been buried in the desert for something like 5,000+ years, Pink’s ship seems to be totally intact, even unaffected.

…Remember how Blue was able to control her ship from a distance with gestures?

……Wouldn’t it be really interesting if Steven was able to assert that kind of control over Pink Diamond’s ship, if they really needed to fly it.