shade concept 2: despite individual clans having shade problems, it’s widely considered negligible mainly because deities don’t even care. Like come talk to me when its ready to destroy the world again, otherwise you’re on your own kiddos.
In 1532 a Venetian ambassador to the court of Henry VIII described Anne Boleyn as “not one of the handsomest women in the world. She is of middling stature, with a swarthy complexion, long neck, wide mouth, bosom not much raised, and in fact has nothing but the King’s great appetite, and her eyes, which are black and beautiful.”
It is true that Anne was never praised as a great beauty, but it was not so much her outward appearance which made the King fall for her. Anne had a remarkable wit. She was well educated and had honed her skills of flirtation and charm during her time at the French court.In the generations following her death, Anne was romantically portrayed as a raven haired vixen with smoldering black eyes. While her eyes were dark and quite striking, Anne’s hair was more likely a lighter shade of brown (some theorize that she may even have been a redhead) and, although only one contemporary image of her survives, her face was probably not considered the most beautiful in England.
Personally, I am of the opinion that Anne was not altogether what we would call “ugly” but rather that she did not fit with the beauty standards of Tudor England. She had olive skin, dark eyes, and was very slender with a small bosom. The Tudors preferred women to be of fair complexion and buxom of figure. Regardless of whether or not she met the criteria for the ideal Tudor lady, it was still ultimately Anne Boleyn’s mind and not her face that made her so extraordinary.
20:“Is there something in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” Please & thank you! :)
“Is there something in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”
AN: Thank you for the prompt, Belle ;) Lol, that one’s a classic! I tweaked it a bit, hope you don’t mind.
Okay, here we have some good old AU/AH with drunk!Caroline.
This is also for @misssophiachase, for her veryyy belated birthday gift, before I write her the proper one, that is ;)
The floor was looking at her funny.
Like it was laughing brazenly straight into her face.
Maybe because she was upside down, hanging over Klaus’ shoulder. The heat of his hands pressing into the back of her thighs make her head even more dizzy than it’d been from all the tequila.
Rebekah’s bachelorette party had been…interesting. And it was just getting good for Caroline, a man with mouth-dropping abs and even a better face talking her up by the bar, when the boys decided to crash it.
Before she knew it, Mr. Pretty Face was gone and the future bride’s annoying brother took his place.
Klaus Mikaelson, the bane of her existence.
Currently carrying her drunk sorry ass home.
“Stop wriggling, love. Wouldn’t want me to drop you, right?” His drawl sent shivers along her spine.
“Like you were dropped on your head when you were little?”
She could feel his head shake in response. “That was mature.”
“That was mature,” Caroline mimicked mockingly. “Look, will you put me down or not? You…big oaf!”
“Big oaf? You wound me, love,” he chuckled.
“Would you prefer Officer Mikaelson?”
“I’m off duty, sweetheart,” Klaus shot back, adding as they reached the door to her apartment, “The keys, Caroline?”
“In my clutch. Can’t look for them when I’m hanging upside down, though,” she sang into his ear.
It was a very handsome ear, damn him. It took all of her self-control not to bite into it.
With a deep sigh, Klaus put her down gently, his hands running down her sides in the process. They lingered on her waist before he seemed to break out of his reverie and took a step back, watching her closely while she trashed her purse in search of keys.
“So will you go out with him?” he asked.
“That stripper firefighter you seemed getting so cozy with at the bar.”
“It’s none of your business, right? And I really liked…Pretty Face. We have lots in common, you know?” she rambled drunkenly.
“I’m sure you do, love.”
His dry tone made Caroline stop her so far futile search and peer at him closely. “Wait…are you jealous?”
“Of course not,” he replied way too soon.
Head thrown back, she laughed, then strode straight towards him. “Come on, Klaus. Can’t blame a girl for loving a man in a uniform,” she mused, trailing a finger down his shirt. “Police officers’ included.”
Clutching her finger in his hand, he glared at her,” You’re drunk, Caroline.”
“I am!” she giggled. “But you are delicious.” Body pressed into his, her nose nudged his neck as she very obviously inhaled his scent. Revelling in the shudder that coursed through him at her ministrations.
“Caroline,” he croaked, trying to gently pry her off him.
But she was relentless, standing on her toes to reach higher and with her tongue now travelling up to his ear, one that had caught her attention earlier.
Maybe she would get a taste, after all.
Then she felt him stirring up against her thigh. Of course, she didn’t hesitate to comment on it.
“Is there a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me, Officer?” she whispered in his ear, her voice husky.
“You know it’s not a gun, Caroline.”
“Yeah, but you still want to shoot from it. You have hots for me Mikaelson, admit it.”
His face grew serious. “I do,” he said simply, the raw honesty of his statement silencing her for once.