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aliaology · 6 months

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DOROTHEA

summary: jack and luke talking about their older sister, who they’ll forever cherish even if shes all the way in vancouver with quinn. their talk brings up memories that will forever be theirs.

almost a sequel of my “never grow up” fic 🤍

hey dorothea, do you ever stop and think about me?

growing up, jack always looked up to big siblings. each holding a special place in his heart. but both of them we’re different. quinn was the one he went to about hockey, girls, and school. y/n was the one he went to for almost everything else.

maybe it was because of how she was always overprotective of him, quinn and luke. he felt closest to her. it was clear she was the favorite, for each brother.

“do you think y/n thinks about us a lot?” luke asked when she went off to college. jack gave luke a look. “of course she does, moron. it’s not like she could forget us.”

luke shrugged. “i just miss her.”

when we were younger, down in the park, honey making a lark of the misery.

“do you think y/n stops to think about us? like— do you think she sees something like the color red and think about us?” luke asked, sitting next to jack.

jack held a picture frame of him, luke, quinn and her on her highschool graduation day.

“maybe not that much— but i like to think she does.” jacks eyes flickered to luke then back to the picture.

luke let out a sigh. “do you remember the summer before she went to college? almost every other day she would take us to the park to just, forget. forget that she would be leaving.”

jack quietly laughed. “i can’t forget that. highlight of my summer, along with you tripping every time you climbed the rock wall and fell”

luke slapped his brothers arm. “fuck off”

you got shiny new friends since you left town. a tiny screens the only place i see you now. and i got nothing but well wishes for you.

jacks shoulders moved along with his laughter. then it went quiet. “i miss her. i hate that we only see her through a tiny screen.” he spoke.

“at least we can still see her. im jealous of quinn though.” luke added.

jack shrugged. “i am but im not. we got her for a few years, it was his turn now.”

“yeah— but permanently.” luke told.

the two stopped talking. looking at the picture. their older sister smiling happily at the camera with her arms wrapped around jack and luke. quinn stood on the end, arm wrapped around jack.

she stuck out like a sore thumb in the picture. her bright blue graduation gown and bright blue cap was a huge contrast to the mix of whites, blacks, reds and greens the boys wore.

along with her height. the heels she wore made her tower over the boys.

hey dorothea, do you ever stop and think about me? when it was calmer, skipping the prom just to piss off your mom and her pageant schemes.

laughter flooded through the quiet park. heels clicked against the sidewalk in a fast pace along with three other sets of feet running behind.

“moms so gonna kill you, sissy!” luke laughed.

you hunched over, hands on your knees as you caught your breath. luke leaned onto you, trying to catch his breath as jack and quinn stifled their laughs.

“she spent so much on this dress, and these damn— heels!” you spoke, struggling to get them off.

“not to mention the ticket!” jack added, grabbing your hand to help you stay steady as you took off the heels.

“i still don’t understand why you ditched, and why you dragged us along” quinn spoke.

“if a hughes goes down, we all do” you gave a toothy grin.

jack smiled softly as he helped you out. luke held your side, stabilizing you so you could get the heel off.

your long green dress clung to your body. the necklace you wore made its way into jacks pocket and was replaced with the necklace he got you for your birthday.

your ‘pearl’ bracelet was replaced with the bracelet luke made. and your ‘pearl’ ring was replaced with the ring quinn gave you. every nice piece of jewelry was replaced with one that actually meant something to you, whether they were pretty or not. (cough lukes beaded bracelet)

you pulled the pins out of your hair, along with the fake pearls and diamonds. you took the long clip that held your hair, out and shook your head.

“thank god im out of that. i love mom but god it felt like she was preparing me for a pageant.” you laughed.

in that moment, all brothers adored you. adored how you clearly cared for them. “lets head home now” you smiled.

but its never too late to come back to my side, the stars in your eyes shined brighter in tupelo. and if you’re ever tired for being known for who you know, you know you’ll always know me.

jackhughes

liked by ynhughes, lhughes_06 and 362,726 others

jackhughes vancouver may be fun, but i miss you, so come back.

tagged: ynhughes

comments

ynhughes i miss u more kid ☹️❤️

jackhughes so come back!

ynhughes its not that easy babes

jackhughes so make it easy lol

user14 im sobbing bring y/n back

user17 come back y/n jacky needs u

user97 BRING THE GANG BACK TOGETHER 😭😭

_quinnhughes i finally get my sister time and you want her back?

jackhughes yeah 😁😁

_quinnhughes gtfo

lhughes_06 this is true, i agree

jackhughes uh yeah id hope so

ynhughes guys pls 😞😞

user61 this is so 😭😭😭😭

trevorzegras bring hot stuff back!!!

jackhughes shes five years older than you, give it a rest 😒😒😒

trevorzegras never back down never what?

colecaulfied NEVER GIVE UP 😱😱😱😱

user73 i miss the hughes siblings together

user15 maybe vancouver will be good for her. maybe she’ll find a boyfriend

trevorzegras NO.

user82 trevor i love u 🥰

user27 i feel like any sad taylor song about growing up or even her friends like dorothea, could relate to them and y/n

tags: (perm) @hockeyboysarehot (just ask if you’d like perm tags <3 )

#hockey #jack hughes #nhl imagine #new jersey #new jersey devils #nhl #nhl hockey #quinn hughes #luke hughes #jack hughes x reader #luke hughes x reader #quinn hughes x reader #trevor zegras #hughes sister #hughes

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ballbellas · 11 months

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love the unique design.

#promdress #eveningdress #fashion #dress #fashionista #mermaidprmdresses #prom dress #onlinedress #highfashion #gowns #beaded dress

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vellatra · 2 months

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You knitted your wedding dress?? That is so cool!

Thank you! I had two main objectives - keeping the cost of our wedding down (so we DIYed a lot), and also simply not wanting to hunt forever for something that fit my tastes. (I'd had enough of the "hunting" experience when I went shopping for a prom dress haha!)

I started in January and finished the whole thing in August, just a few short weeks before the wedding, which was on Labor Day weekend that year. Had a lot of fun with it - learned some new techniques, did lots of little fancy details (like knitting tiny beads into the fabric!), and ended up with something completely unique. :) I'd never want to do it again; there were easily millions of stitches involved. But as a one-time experience, it was pretty cool! :D

#wedding #wedding dress #bride #knitting #DIY #ramblings #thanks for the ask!#sorry for the delayed response!#wanted to find some really good pictures!#lovely soanvalcke

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nonasuch · 1 year

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The 2022 Miss Universe pageant was last night!

Which means: the National Costumes are here.

Yes, there is video. It’s worth watching if you want to see how some of these look in motion, but I’m warning you in advance that the emcees keep doing these shitty little rhyming couplets, and they will make you want to strangle them with one of the many available voluminous gown trains. So I’m suffering on your behalf, and liveblogging.

First up: Albania.

Sparkly flag-inspired bodysuit with train is the voting “present” of the Miss Universe National Costume Competition.

Angola. She did a fun dance on her way to center stage, which would probably not have been possible in her original costume, which was “tree-inspired” and too big to ship to New Orleans.

Argentina. This is where the video does come in handy, because without it I would not be able to award her First Contestant To Visibly Struggle Under The Weight Of Her Outfit. It’s a waterfall. The rainbow crotch area was certainly a design choice.

Armenia. I would like to see what’s going on with the bodice behind the... shield thing? but she never put it down.

Also, it turns out that when one contestant has a costume dedicated to solemn remembrance of the Armenian genocide, and the contestant immediately after her has a costume that’s about beach parties, there is kind of an uncomfortably abrupt tonal shift that happens onstage.

Aruba. Like I said: weird tonal shift! She did a little shimmy dance at Miss Armenia as they passed each other and it was clearly awkward for both of them. This is made of recycled materials leftover from Carnival, which is cool? I guess?

Australia. This is a prom dress. Boo.

Bahrain. A rare pants look! There’s a lot of detail in the headdress and bodice that’s kind of getting lost, but it looks cool in motion. Also the theme is apparently “Bahrain is rich as fuck,” so congrats I guess?

Belgium. Okay so the theme of this costume, my hand to g-d, is “the window on the International Space Station that Belgium built.” Why does this requires a shit-ton of leftover Christmas tinsel and some very awkward-to-wear angel wings? I do not know.

Belize. This is fun! It’s a good “lesser-known Batman villainess” kind of look. Like if Ivy and Catwoman co-mentored someone. The actual theme is “the world’s only jaguar reserve, which is in Belize,” but I think it’s also kind of implying that she might be a were-jaguar. Which, again, is fun!

Bhutan. This goes in the “just an actual regional/folk costume” category, which is also kind of like voting Present, but it looks like the fabrics are nice.

Bolivia. She has an entire Andean condor on her head so I’m already on board. This photo only shows the cloak, which is covered in silver spangles in honor of Bolivia’s silver mines, and is also why her condor is perched on a miner’s helmet. The dress underneath is entirely made of swags of sparkly gold beads, so the visual effect is actually pretty nice in motion.

Brazil. The construction details on this are actually quite lovely! Lots of intricate beading and rhinestone work. Unfortunately that doesn’t convey well at any distance, and also that white fin peplum thing flaps around really awkwardly when she walks. Oh, wait, she can flip it up to be a clamshell thing behind her head!

That looks much better.

British Virgin Islands. First giant flower of the year!

Bulgaria. Apparently this is made of neoprene? So with that and the rainbow stripes, the effect ends up being kind of “what if Midsommar, but at a rave.”

Cambodia. It feels weird to say “yep, standard Miss Universe warrior goddess costume” but basically that’s what this is. I do like the green-and-gold color palette, though.

Cameroon. “The baskets represent the nation’s agricultural movement.” Okay! I like how it’s giving “Valkyrie, but make it Global South,” though I’m not sure three entire country-shaped cutouts were necessary.

Canada. Another fine Miss Universe tradition: contestant who knows how to dance en pointe so she’s going to goddamn wear a costume that goes with pointe shoes, Or Else. Some nice beadwork! I would let her be the third, secret red swan in Swan Lake if that were a thing.

Cayman Islands. Sexy Blue Iguana is a fun concept! There’s a tail in back of the cape.

Chile. Sexy Atacama Desert is kind of abstract, as these things go, but I respect her choice to wear something she could walk in.

China. Hilariously, the announcer was like “This look... does not match the bio we were given, so I’m gonna wing it!” The fabrics are nice -- the satin drapes and moves well -- but the embellishments are kind of meh compared to some of the Miss China looks I’ve seen.

Colombia. This is a legit great Sexy Phoenix, but I need you all to know that her crown got turned a little sideways while she walked to the stage and she clearly knew it and just as clearly could do nothing about it, and I feel bad for laughing but it was funny.

Costa Rica. Sexy hummingbird! I think I’ve identified a recurring theme for this year. Corset and wings are made of recycled materials, which is nice, and they look well-made -- a lot of wing-based costumes tend to flop around or go crooked in motion, but not these.

Croatia. Oh, honey. This has big “my mom helped me make this the night before it was due” energy, unfortunately.

Curacao. “Meet the Fisherman’s Wife, a woman with a key role in Curacao’s fishing industry.” Okay? Honestly you could have left off the basket and said “this costume represents the beautiful marine life of Curacao” and I would have been like “yep, checks out” but now I have many follow-up questions.

Czech Republic. This is meant to be a Mucha-inspired look but uh. Mostly it’s just. beige. I’m starting to feel like all the other Slavic countries saw advance photos of Miss Ukraine and were like “let’s just phone it in this year, girls, there’s no point.”

Dominican Republic. “This costume recognizes the importance of birds in Dominican culture.” They did make it with silk feathers, which I appreciate, because it would have been very weird to use real ones with that mission statement. Also I like her headdress, and the giant feather fans are a good way to nod in the direction of wings without the hassle of actually wearing wings.

Ecuador. This looks good in motion! She did some dancing onstage that worked well, and there’s a great sculpted Inca head scowling on the back of her headdress. This is still only a few notches above voting Present, though.

El Salvador. “History of Currency,” which is definitely a concept! The Bitcoin wizard staff is sure something.

Equatorial Guinea. A perfectly nice entry in the “actual regional costume” category, but on the video I was like “oh, yikes, her headdress is really wobbly” and then it FELL OFF and I felt so bad for her.

Finland. “Spirit of the Forest”? Fuck off, that’s a prom dress. Boo.

I’m going to pause here so this readmore doesn’t get completely out of control. Shit, there are 50 more of these? Well, I have only myself to blame.

#miss universe #miss universe national costume

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chaotic-iguana · 9 months

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Deafening Silences

Summary: based on a request from @sunfloweryellow19 - Javi gets busy with work and pulls away. reader deals with the aftermath.

Pairing: (fictional) Javier Peña x f! reader

Wordcount: 1.5 k

Warnings: angst angst angst. descriptions of an unhappy marriage, hints of depression, anxiety.

A/N: im trying new things guys, really really leaving my comfort zone with this one (i know i say this every time) but yeah. just let me know what you think.

masterlist

You blinked awake, stretching your head to the side with a pained groan. The couch seemed to have had a vengeance to remind you of the discomfort it provided, leaving you with a dull pain lancing down your back with every breath.

You hadn’t meant to fall asleep on it, though. No, you’d been waiting with bottles of beer that had long seeped condensation all over the coffee table, beads of moisture trickling in their wake.

A glance at the clock made it clear it was well past midnight. Resignation lacing itself into your body, you shuffled into the bedroom to lie down.

Your tears had long dried up, now. No longer did they burrow into your lashline when the prickling feeling in your chest spread to your limbs, a jarring ache settling over you. The ache still came, every night. You’d just steeled your resolve against the spiteful monologues playing in your head.

Growing up in the same town, you’d known Javi as the quiet boy with soft, gentle hands and kind reassurances when he caught you crying with a scraped knee when others had pushed you. The one who offered you his lunchbox when he saw you’d forgotten yours, lent you his jumper when he watched you shivering. The boy with the most breathtaking smile you had ever seen.

Before you knew it, time had caught up with you, and he went from the shy, stuttering boy he had been to the cocky, lucky one engaged to the prom queen.

You planned to burn the dress you wore to his wedding.

With bated breath and trembling hands you had waited for your heart to break. Your palms, tightly clasped, had shook in desperate prayer in the stuffy, dimly lit church aisle when hushed panic had taken over the crowd. He hadn’t come at all. How ironic, for God to listen to you then when he had so brutally discarded you now.

The memories of his fleeting touches, crooked grins, and brown eyes had lingered in your mind like a spot of blood staining pure cloth. Refusing to wash away, no matter how long it had been scrubbed at. In truth, however, you never tried. Tainted memories suited you best.

Perhaps it had been God, again, who had intervened on the Sunday your mother dragged you to mass for the first time in years. Perhaps it had been God, again, who let you wear your best dress as you stumbled over it at the sight of him in front of you. In all his glory, however, God failed to warn you. Fallen angels look much like their long-gone forms at first. A broken halo still continues to glow for those that seek it.

Javi was leaner than when you had last seen him. His cheeks were hollower, hair more matted than before. Eyes sunken and red shot, with shadows of memories you knew wouldn’t wash away. A frown had etched itself on his face, and that smile you had yearned after for years seemed incongruent with what he had become.

Atlas, rose a name in your mind. He looks like he’s been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

The urge to ease it off him overwhelmed you just as quickly. To shoulder the burden with him, to bring him back. And so this time around, you were the one with the soft smiles and gentle gazes. The one whose hands accidentally brushed his., the one who blushed and stumbled. And like a man starved, he devoured it all, just as you did. Gorged yourself on the way he looked at you. The glimpses you got of his outline, half-illuminated by the street lamps behind him as he leaned forward to pull a long dart out of his pocket and clamped his teeth down on it. He’d give you that smile when no one else was around. You never stood a chance.

He even offered to you, one night, the story of all he had endured. Captivated, you had listened to each word heedfully, as if you could absorb the pain in his words just by hearing them. And like a child with no comprehension of the world beyond a juvenile fascination, you had reached your hands out to grip the shadows under his eyes - the ones that sat on his slumped shoulders, and put them on yours.

When he walked into the apartment a week after your quiet wedding and told you he’d gotten a call from Colombia, you’d laughed. Who would go crawling back to the hell they had finally gotten reprieve from?

Atlas was condemned to have the world on his shoulders for all eternity, too.

He hadn’t wanted to bring you. But your fear - the broken, cruel part of your mind - had taken over. You’d refused to be left behind again. Grumbling, begrudgingly, he had packed with you. Muttering the whole way about how difficult it would be, all the adjustments you would have to get used to. But gullibility was your downfall, and ignorance your bliss. How bad could it really be?

What is it they say about tragic heroes? Their tragic flaws inevitably doom them in the end.

Six months into it now, Laredo felt like a memory so distant you might have thought it a dream if you hadn’t grown up there. Jolted out of the lap of your childhood, Colombia had instead wrapped its callous fist around you - snatched the air from your lungs, drained the life from your eyes. If the man who slid into your bed in the early hours of dawn was no longer the one you had married, you were no longer the woman grinning ear-to-ear in the wedding pictures on your bedside table, either.

The new job had been a difficult adjustment, even without the agents Javier insisted would accompany you. The new marriage had been even worse. Laughter had long abandoned you both, leaving a roaring silence in its stead. He’d stopped looking at you, stopped talking, stopped smiling. You’d stopped, too. Stopped greeting him when he came through the door, with tired eyes and a scowl imprinted on his face. Stopped talking, stopped eating. You had become exactly what he had reduced you to. A ghost within your own home.

It must be a thing about Sundays. You had woken up earlier today, made his coffee, a lunch you knew he wouldn’t so much as look at, and left for work before you had to, telling him to come home earlier. You missed him. You just wanted Javi back again. So you’d sat on the couch you hated with beers that always tasted stale, waiting for him with an olive branch to call a truce for a war you hadn’t even anticipated. Truly, Sundays must have a sense of sardonicism laced within them. Your hands were shaking with the same nervousness you had years ago when he had failed to show up to his altar; your knee bouncing with the same anticipation when you’d seen him at that church when he was back. Only, unlike those times, tonight had been fruitless. A reckoning of another sort. Tonight was the one which fractured your heart and made you curl into yourself as you lay alone in your perpetually cold bed. It was the one that made you call your mother before shutting your eyes, begging her to buy you a ticket to back home without asking for an explanation. How ironic, for you to beg again. Only this time, churches and prayers felt as empty as they used to in your childhood.

You heard him come in. The wet thump of his keys, gun, badge, being slammed on the table. The one slick with the moisture that the bottles left behind. The ache multiplied. He was sneaking into your room now, trying not to wake you. As if you could sleep without his warmth.

His breath hitched from over your shaking shoulders when he walked in. Treacherous sobs ripped out of your throat before you could stop them, before you could convince yourself that the tears were dry. Footsteps, faster now, around your bed as he came to face you. Eyes that had flit over your form dismissively for months suddenly found yours, wide and panicked as he reached hand to cradle your cheek, making you sob harder. Feverish against your skin, he gripped your shoulder to make you sit up as he looked you over for injuries. You wanted to roll your eyes, to scream at him. How can you not know the only pain I’ve felt here has been your fault?

Javier’s hands started quivering against you, lips pursed tight and a frown on his face. Silently, he shuffled himself between you and the headboard to cradle you against his chest, fingers stroking your scalp. You lay there until your limbs went slack, molten in his arms as he traced your spine. Burrowing tighter in his embrace, you let his jagged edges soothe you to sleep again.

Neither of you spoke, though, even now. There wasn’t much left to say.

hello loves, as always - thank you for reading. comment your thoughts or find me on ao3. stay hydrated and have a great day! @imherefordeanandbones, @theywhowriteandknowthings, @josephquinnswhore,@millerscoffee (any of u can dm me to get off the taglist, no hard feelings). dividers by @reveriesources

cover by the AMAZING @nostalxgic

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