with chapel and

anonymous asked:

midorima seeing his daughter get married? LOLOL I WANNA READ THIS

He knew he shouldn’t be feeling this nervous; it wasn’t his day after all. That had happened a long time ago. Still, he could feel pesky butterflies crowding his stomach and filling up his insides, threatening to flutter up his throat. Were his hands sweaty? He couldn’t tell behind the white gloves he had them wrapped in.

“Daddy?”

Despite her voice being older, her tone wiser and much more experienced with the world now, he could still hear the innocence of the words. Turning to his daughter, he noticed that familiar excitement behind her eyes.

“You ready?” Of course she was. Why did he even ask?

With a slow nod, she took his arm in hers and they both faced the large double doors of the chapel. Inside, the same old tune that was played at every wedding began to echo throughout.

Rows of people stood upon the door opening, like an ocean’s wave that started from the back pews all the way to the front. It caused a shudder to make its way down his spine and, from the pinpricks of gooseflesh on her skin, he was sure his daughter was feeling the same.

He should’ve been leading her, taking her slowly down the isle, but it was her who was taking the lead. The eagerness in every step she took was bringing them closer and closer to the front of the audience.

It was taking her farther and farther away from him.

When they reached the front and he felt her arm go slack in his, preparing to let go, he couldn’t stop his own grip from tightening.

“Daddy?”

Her eyes, worried now because of his hesitance, were on his. When had his little girl grown up? With a quick gesture, he brought her close enough to land a love filled kiss on her veiled forehead.

“I’m so proud of you,” he whispered.

And fighting back the tears, he let go of her hand, sending his daughter off on the new adventure she would begin. A life of her own she could live.

The chapel was suffocatingly hot and crowded, but the bride showed no sign of nervousness, appearing to be in the best of spirits and chattering away to the Duke of Clarence, who escorted her up the aisle. The groom, on the other hand, “looked like death” and, as Lord Malmesbury put it, “had manifestly had recourse to wine or spirits”. The Duke of Bedford saw him swallow several stiff brandies, and by the time he arrived at the altar he had reached that state sometimes described as “tired and emotional” - fuddled, weepy, and so unsteady on his legs that his two ducal groomsmen, Bedford and Roxburghe, had their work cut out to keep him upright.

Caroline and Charlotte, The Regent’s Wife and Daughter - Alison Plowden

Home sweet homeless- 2

Opis: Harry ma 20 lat, pstro w głowie i drobne problemy z alkoholem. Ale ma też mały ośrodek weterynarii ojca do prowadzenia, mimo braku odpowiedniego wykształcenia. Kiepsko, prawda? A co, jeśli dodam, że w krótkim odstępie czasowym stracił rodziców i siostrę, zostając z dwuletnią siostrą i kilkumiesięcznym siostrzeńcem? Cóż, właśnie tak jest. A Louis ma 25 lat i nie ma nawet tożsamości. Urodzony we Francji, oskarżony o serię morderstw na swojej rodzinie i poszukiwany listem gończym, wydaje wszystkie pieniądze na ucieczkę do Holmes Chapel i ląduje tam na ulicy. Harry mija go wiele razy, zawsze wykazując się dobrym sercem, jednak dopiero po tym, jak niemal staje się świadkiem brutalnego gwałtu, przyjmuje go do swojego domu. W ten sposób wzajemnie zmienią swoje życie. 

Ode mnie: Nie bardzo wiedziałam, co tutaj opisać, więc postawiłam na prosty opis jednego wieczoru. Jakby się ktoś do mnie po tym odezwał, to byłoby miło. Nie wiem, co mam myśleć o tym rozdziale…

MASTERPOST



-W porządku, Harry, na dzisiaj to koniec.- Ciepły głos blondynki w średnim wieku przerwał ciszę, kobieta uśmiechnęła się wdzięcznie, jednak jej błękitne spojrzenie wyrażało czyste zmęczenie, więc Harry nie czekał na dalszą część standardowego pożegnania. Po prostu wstał, skinął głową i wyszedł z gabinetu, instynktownie naciągając koszulkę niżej na brzuchu, chociaż wcale mu się nie podwinęła. Też był zmęczony terapią- nie dawała żadnych zauważalnych rezultatów, a mimo to wciąż musiał to ciągnąć, katując siebie i panią psycholog cotygodniowymi spotkaniami. Gdyby to było płatne, już dawno przestałby przychodzić do jej gabinetu.

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Spent my birthday in this wonderful place for the second straight year.

Yosemite National Park, CA. January 2017. (Instagram)