#Gown Ups 2 Movie

[cutekoala1001]

♡ Meena being cute ♡

[leah-lover]

Drive to survive. Leah Williamson x F1!Reader

Part 1. Part 2.

“ Leah, Leah is watching, she is probably scared “ you thought again as you were drifting off. You gathered all your strength, unlocked the steering wheel, and got out of the car. As soon as you stood on the ground you felt dizzy again, but lucky for you a paramedic caught you in time and directed you to an ambulance. You turned your head to where your car is to find the back of it in flames.

You got on the ambulance, they closed the door behind you, you took off your helmet and breathed real air for the first time. With that breath all the adrenaline came rushing again to your brain. “ Silverstone is done, you lost any real chance at winning this year, your career in F1 might be over.” you thought. This provoked you to have a panic attack.

“ Ma'am it's going to be okay. You survived the crash and it seems like you don't have any dangerous injuries.” Said the paramedic in an effort to calm you down.

When you got to the hospital, you were rushed to a room. A nurse helped you take off your race suit and replace it with a hospital gown. When the doctor came, he did a few tests and informed the members of your team that were now in the hospital with you that you only had a concussion and that all you needed was rest.

You hadn't talked yet. Your mind kept on going to the aftermath of the crash. If you hadn't been so deeply in love with Leah you would have burned in the fire.

“ Where is Leah?” You ask your assistant.

“ She is in the hotel, she left the garage after the crash.” She replied.

“ I want her here.” You demanded.

“ Okay.” She said as she stepped out to call for her.

You waited for about 30 minutes until you heard a knock on the door. She was wearing the same white suit she did in the paddock. Her eyes were puffy and red and there was clear evidence of crying on her face. As soon as you two made eye contact she ran to kiss you. The kiss was passionate, soft, sweet and needy. It resembled the kisses you saw in movies. As you two kissed you felt a tear on your cheek. The tear was hers.” Hey I am fine. I only have a concussion. I survived.” You say as your fingers wipe the tears from her face.

“ You crashed and screamed for help on the radio, then there was fire and you didn't get out.” she said with her voice broken.

“ You know what got me out. It was you. As soon as I thought of you I got out. You saved me Leah.” You replied.

Leah continued to cry as you held her. You whispered how much you loved her in her ear as she layed on your chest.

You stayed in the hospital overnight for monitoring and so did she. And the next day you went to your house.

You were in your bed watching yourself getting out of a burning car on the news when you were writing your statement to the press. Once you were done you called your parents and texted your friends and your team confirming that you were okay.

“ An omelet, avocado and toast, some fruit and coffee.” Said Leah as she entered the bedroom with a plate full of food.

“ I thought you couldn't cook.”

“ I didn't make this but it looks delicious.”

You two had breakfast together and watched the news.

“ I think I might quit.” You said.

“ You can't.” Answered leah. “ What you went through is traumatic, and it will take a long time for you to recover from it. But you need to push through. This is everything you wanted and worked for. you need to keep going not only for you but for the thousands of girls looking up to you. And yes I know that I will always be scared when you enter that car but I know that that is something you love and I will learn to love it too.”

“This is why I fell in love with you.” You said jokingly.

“ I thought you said my fingers were the reason you fell in love with me.”

“ No, it's your strap.”

“ Speaking of strap, I think it's time for a reward since you escaped death for me.”.

“ I love you.”

“ I love you too.”

—----------

25 days later.

“ Italy, home of Ferrari, but this year they are not the main thing the media is talking about. This year the woman who walked away from fire is the center of all the media attention. She is back and ready to have another go at winning her first race. She has talked about the highs and lows of her coming back journey and the difficulties she found in driving that Mercedes car again. But she has worked her way through it all. The number six is now written on her car, on her helmet, and on her tracksuit. We do not know what it means but she said it is the reason she is driving again. Stay tuned for what could be a historic race.”

[watchmegetobsessed]

NOW AND FOREVER (part 2)

A/N: these two got stuck in my head and seemingly in yours as well, so lets see some more of them! part 1 is linked under the summary if you haven't read it!

WORD COUNT: 3.4k

PAIRING: princess!reader x guard!harry

WARNING: sexual content

SUMMARY: To be eligible for the throne, you need to get married. The past few years have been dedicated to finding a king for you, but now that you're secretly dating your guard, these attempts are a bit more complicated than before.

PART 1 | MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

There’s that scene in The Princess Diaries when they are choosing a possible husband out of a slide show for Mia. You used to find it funny when you were younger and made jokes to your parents that you want to do it too. They laughed, but exchanged a look you didn’t understand back then. 

Now you do.

There are two requirements you need to meet to take the throne. The first one is to be at least 25 years old. That box has been ticked for three years now, the real problem is the second one. Because as outdated that law in the movies was, it is your reality. You have to be married, you can’t take the throne without a man. 

As a teenager you didn’t think much of it, because you pictured yourself to meet a handsome prince, marry him and then become queen, easy as it is. But as you grew older and dating was proven to be impossible as a princess, anxiety and panic started to set in that you’d end up in an arranged marriage just to become eligible for ruling Eroda. 

Then came Harry, you fell for him and he fell for you, but it just complicated things even more, because he is not from royal blood, not even close to being an aristocrat, therefore you can never marry him. 

For the past few years most of the social events you’ve attended had a not so hidden second purpose: finding a husband. 

Never ending rounds of introductions to single men, awkward chatting that ended up in asking you out on a date that you declined politely most of the time, followed by a sermon from your father about needing to settle soon, because he is not getting younger and you need to be eligible for the throne as soon as possible. You always tried your best to just ignore him, but ever since you and Harry have become an item secretly it’s been extremely hard to hold your tongue and not tell him that you have found the man you want to spend the rest of your life with, but he can’t be king, because he is your guard. 

It’s such an impossible situation and you have no idea where it’s going to lead. 

Now it’s another one of those occasions, the opening of the Spring Festival is just another opportunity to fill up the palace’s ballroom with all kinds of single men from around the country and even outside as well. 

You know people are filling up the room already while you’re still in your suite. Your hair is done, makeup perfect, wearing a gown that costs probably way more than you feel comfortable with, but you’re never informed about how expensive your outfits are. 

You’ll be announced in about fifteen minutes, walk down the stairs for the millionth time and start your rounds. You’d rather jump out the window than to meet all those people, but you have no choice. 

There’s a knock on the door.

“Come in!” you call out and you see Harry step inside from the mirror. He is wearing his usual black suit, looking polished and threatening at the same time, but not to you. You see the man he is behind his thick walls, because there’s a door on that wall, just for you, wide open. 

The door clicks behind him and he watches you turn around, his gaze runs down the length of your body and then up to your face again. 

“Should I change?” you ask, arching an eyebrow at him teasingly.

“Do you want the honest or the brutally honest answer?”

Your lips stretch into a smile as you start to cross the room slowly, walking towards him while he remains standing in his spot.

“Both. The honest first.”

“You look stunning,” he replies, his eyes soft and loving. You stop just a few inches away from him.

“And the brutally honest one?”

There’s a short pause, you catch his eyes slip down to your chest and waist again before returning.

“I want to lock you in here and not let you close any men out there. I wish I could mark you mine.”

He knows how to turn you on within seconds with just a few words. He knows so well how much you like it when he gets possessive, ready to show it to the world that you belong to him and only him. 

A shaky breath leaves your lips and just when you reach up to grab him by his neck there’s another knock on the door. forcing you to take a step back instead. 

“Come in!” you answer when there’s enough distance between you and Harry, though your heart is still pounding in your chest as if it’s about to jump out and right into Harry’s hands. 

Head of security, Clarke steps into the suite.

“Her Royal Highness, you’re expected to appear in ten minutes,” he informs you with a polite nod.

“Styles just arrived to walk me over. Thank you.”

The two men exchange a look before Clarke walks out. Taking a deep breath you turn to face Harry.

“Ready?”

“Sure,” you huff, earning a tiny smirk from him before he opens the door, but as you walk past him he stops you just for a split second to whisper into your ear.

“Mine,” is all he says and you keep walking as if that one word didn’t just make your knees wobble.

You use the walk to the ballroom to get your thoughts straight and not imagine how Harry would peel you out of this dress if you had some privacy…

They announce you and  every pair of eyes are glued to you as you walk down the stairs and join the crowd. Endless rounds of introduction, the smile is frozen on your face and your feet are already sore from the heels, but you ignore the pain. 

It always amazes you how uninteresting the men you meet are. How they can’t hold a conversation that doesn’t make you claw your eyes out. Thirty seconds into the chit-chat and you’re already planning your escape usually. 

Tonight however there is one exception. 

His name is Magnus, some kind of relative of the Swedish royal family, you don’t really care to be honest. At first he seemed just another one of the boring puppets, but he soon proved to actually have a personality and your status didn’t stop him from showing it. 

His almost inappropriate, a bit risky jokes are what keep you sane tonight. He just knows what makes you laugh and he has a great timing dropping his silent comments that are only meant for you. 

“I think I’ll have a little break,” you tell him after a rather long conversation with some old baron you know you’ve seen a couple of times already, but can’t remember his name, only that he is always oddly curious about the neckline of your dress. 

“I’ll be around here, dodging questions about my father’s political choices.”

You smile with a nod and then look around to find Harry. He is not far away, by a window, his eyes already glued to you when you make your way towards him.

“Bathroom break,” you announce to him with a smile, expecting to see that hidden glimmer in his eyes as usual, because this is always the time when you steal a few intimate moments, but he is different now. Something is off.

He nods without a word and escorts you out of the room. In those few minutes you go back to your suite you try to figure out what could have happened since you parted ways that could upset him this much. As always, he opens the door for you, one guard stays outside and he comes in with you. 

He plants himself by the door, his hands clasped together in front of him as he keeps a straight face. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

He looks at you just for a second before turning his gaze towards the window, his jaw flexes and your worry just grows, you haven’t seen him this upset in a long time. 

“Nothing is wrong,” he answers, but you both know it’s not true.

“I’m gonna ask you one more time, Harry. Just once more. What is wrong?”

Slowly, his eyes move back to you and for a moment, you forget to breathe, they’re so intense and darker than ever, as if all that gorgeous greenness is gone from them. 

“Your little date must be waiting for you, better hurry.”

Amusement settles on your face and you can’t stop yourself from letting a laugh slip out. 

“That’s your problem? Magnus?” His lips twitch at his name, but he doesn’t reply. “Harry, you know this is what’s expected from me. I have to pretend like I want to get to know the men out there.”

“I bet you didn’t have to pretend much when he came into the picture.”

“What are you talking about?!” you let out another frustrated laugh. You know he tends to get jealous, but you’ve never seen this side of him before. 

“You seemed to enjoy his company a lot out there.”

“Because he is not a boring asshole like most of the men I’m usually introduced to.”

“Great. You two will look good as king and queen.”

You know he doesn’t mean it, that he is just pissed and feels helpless in our situation, but in this moment you simply can’t see over the nasty fog of anger. 

“Oh you think so too? I agree,” is all you say before you march into your bathroom and shut the door closed. 

There’s no more talking as you walk back to the ballroom, but even the blind could see the tension between the two of you. You catch the other guard that came with you giving Harry a puzzled look, but he didn’t dare to ask. 

“Magnus!” you call out to him, making your way straight to him upon arriving when you spot him by a table. You can feel Harry’s burning gaze on your back, but tonight you’re in the mood to be petty. 

“Your Royal Highness, you’re back!” he smiles brightly. 

He is handsome, that’s for sure. Has great manners and an even greater sense of humor. The more you talk to him the more you think that you might be able to develop feelings for him in some years, or at least enough to live beside him in peace.

But those feelings would never live up to the love and passion you have for Harry. 

You’re still angry at him, for how childish he was and thought that anyone could stand a chance when he’s in your life. 

As the evening carries on your anger eases, though you’re still upset with him, you just want to be alone with him finally, touch him, kiss him, hear him call your name. 

Magnus asks you out at the end of the night and you politely decline, he doesn’t seem offended, maybe a bit disappointed, but he masks it well. You say your rounds of goodbye and then finally make your way back to your suite, Harry walking right beside you. 

The tension has somewhat lessened, but the vibes are still not the usual. You can’t tell what he’s thinking, if he is still as upset as before or he has cooled down, his face is so blank it irks you. Arriving at the suite you look at him, searching for any sign or feeling in his eyes, but they look back at you completely empty. So you walk in and lock yourself in your bathroom with trembling lips. 

Normally Harry would sneak in later at night, but this time you don’t expect him to show up. Hoping to burn the feelings tonight left behind, you take a hot bath and try to carry on as if nothing happened, even though Harry is all you can think about. 

Is it possible this is how things will end between the two of you? That this stupid little jealousy game is enough to pull you apart? You start to spiral heavily when you step out of the steamed up bathroom, but all your thoughts disappear the moment you notice you’re not alone.

Harry is sitting on the edge of your bed, still wearing his suit from tonight, but his black tie is gone and the top few buttons are undone on his perfectly white shirt. Unsure about where you’re standing and if he is still angry at you for the whole Magnus thing, you just stop halfway over to the bed, wrapped only in a silky robe. 

For a while he just sits there, staring at you, silent and unreadable and right when you’re about to speak, he stands up and starts walking towards you, slowly, his eyes locked with yours. You’re waiting for him to say something, maybe lash out on you, or apologize, practically anything, because his silence is pure torture. 

He stops right in front of you, if you took a deep breath your chest would be touching his, but he is still just staring down at you without a single word. 

And you break.

“Harry, I–”

He doesn’t let you finish, instead, his lips smash against yours, one hand on the back of your neck, the other one grabbing your jaw as he moves forward, pushing you to move with him until your back hits the wall, his whole body pressed against you as he kisses you like never before. 

He’s been rough with you before, but not like this. He is devouring your lips with the raw passion he had to hold back all evening, watching you parade around with another man while he wished he could show everyone in the room who you belong to. 

You both are in a rush, he is practically tearing your robe off your body while you’re ridding him of his clothes in a frenzy. You don’t even get to pull his shirt off entirely and his pants are just pooling around his ankles when brings your legs around his waist and thrusts his throbbing cock into you, only to freeze once he’s buried deep inside you.

You both gasp, lips smearing against each other as you stare back at each other, savoring the feeling of being as physically close as possible finally. The events of tonight have turned, they are now a force between the two of you, pulling you closer and closer until you’re melted together as one. 

You grab his face, tightening your legs around his waist as you breathe his name into his mouth before he starts moving. 

He starts off slow, but he is quick to fasten his pace, your gasps fill the room and you’re thankful your whole suite is soundproof, just like almost all rooms in the palace. It’s the only reason why you could have been in a similar situation in the library, the guest room in the west wing and your study. 

You’re tugging his hair and clawing at his back while he pounds into you relentlessly. At one point, most likely to muffle his moans, he bites into your shoulder and you faintly feel him sucking on the skin, but you’re just too gone to even realize what he is doing. 

He is kissing you so hard your teeth are clashing as he comes, his movements fall out of his fast paced rhythm for a bit, but then he keeps going for you.

“Come on, baby. Give it to me, come on my cock,” he urges you, knowing you’re close too. “I know you’re there, I can feel you so tight around my cock, just give it to me.”

A few more rough thrust and you’re whining out his name, your orgasm spreading through your whole body in waves. He fucks you through it and only stops when he’s sure you’ve given him everything. 

You stay like that, his cock buried inside you, his body pressing you up against the wall, foreheads resting against each other as you both try to catch your breath. When he pulls back you follow his eyes to your shoulder and see the reddish-purple mark he left on you. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he breathes out as he lets your legs down, your feet returning to the floor but he keeps an arm around your waist, knowing you probably don’t have much energy to stand on your own, his other hand comes up to your shoulder and he runs his fingers over the mark.

“It’s fine, I have makeup that covers anything,” you smirk at him. Secretly, you wish he’d let himself loose like this more often, you love seeing his mark on yourself. 

You catch his face falling before he speaks again.

“And I’m sorry for tonight.”

You couldn’t be angry at him anymore, not even if you tried. The tenderness is back in his eyes and he is the Harry you love so much again. 

“I’m sorry too.”

“No, you have nothing to apologize for,” he shakes his head. “You did nothing wrong, just… talked to a guy whose company was nice, after all those events full of assholes you always have to put up with. I was… jealous, because he got to be with you the way I want to.”

It stings in your chest, his confession hits hard now that it was said out loud, even though deep down you knew he felt like that, because you did too. You wished it could have been him. 

With a gentle touch, you take his face between your hands and pull him in for a soft kiss. 

“I know you know it, just probably forget it sometimes, but I’ll say it. No matter who they try to set me up with or how many princes and barons they throw into my way, I will only love and belong to you. Now and forever.”

You intentionally use his words and it seems to strengthen the message, you notice the tears in his eyes and you feel your throat closing up as well when you pull him in for another kiss, this time it’s longer and more passionate. You can taste his words on his tongue: I love you too.

When he pulls back you see the glimmer in his eyes, but then they disappear in a second. 

“What’s wrong?” He shakes his head. “Harry, talk to me, please,” you beg him, pushing his hair back.

“It’s just… You’ll have to marry one day. You can’t be queen without marrying someone and I… I can’t be…”

He doesn’t want to say it out loud, as if it would make it more real, even though it’s as real as it could get.

“We’ll figure it out. I promise,” you tell him, running the pad of your thumb over his eyebrow, as if you wanted to memorize every feature of his face. When he looks into your eyes you know he doesn’t believe you, but he just nods. You don’t want to let him go like this, to end tonight on such a bitter note. “So… you’d want to marry me? You’re saying you would willingly have me as your wife?”

You see the switch in his eyes and the way the corners of his mouth curl up makes you lightheaded in a second.

“Did I say that?”

“You very much implied, yes,” you grin at him. “I’m surprised you’d want to put up with my big mouth and attitude, you get the most of them, because I can’t act up in public. Wouldn’t you get fed up with me after a while?” you ask teasingly.

“Mm, don’t let it get to your head, but I love your big mouth and attitude.” Leaning down his lips are now brushing against yours, but he is not kissing you just yet. “Especially… your mouth and everything it can do,” he adds in a whisper before finally sucking on your bottom lip. 

He pulls you away from the wall and starts walking you towards the bed and you just smile widely against his mouth as you willingly move with him until you both fall into your bed and make the best out of the little time he gets to spend with you before he needs to sneak out.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[lexirosewrites]

Ok last slick sunday ask that's been sitting in my head!! The 2 part one I did was a great exercise & helped me get some imagery thoughts processed abt things for my haunted Harrington fic 👻

A!Eddie is ofc our favorite famous rock star, an aspirational horror director/actor, fantasy nerd, who's seen w a different omega in every city @ every event

O!Steve is a historian, specifically a costume historian, he has a degree tht he has framed in a reproduction of a rococo golden frame, he has a YouTube channel, Steve's Seams, tht he started initially as a way to keep his adopted mom (B!Claudia) updated & involved w his projects, he specializes in the mid to late Victorian era but he has put in the work on other projects of different eras (high middle ages, Renaissance, regency) Steve makes an effort to make these garments using materials & tools tht r as close to historically accurate as one can get, his videos r informative & calming & his voice is soothing & his projects r creative at their core

he did an entire video series when he was invited to the Met Costumes Department just absolutely nerding out, asking questions, having bubbly conversations. It's this series tht makes his channel suddenly blow up. He's getting comments on old videos, alot of the comments abt how attractive he is, the most popular videos tend to b his videos reviewing costumes in "period piece" movies/shows, not bc he's harsh but bc he takes the time to explain/illustrate how something would've looked if it'd been made accurate to the period the media is meant to b set in

Some time later.........

Eddie & Corroded Coffin r planning a series of music videos for their upcoming album, they've got a reputation for their conceptual albums tht have powerful aesthetics, their albums till now r set in blatantly fantasy worlds following a vague middle ages aesthetic, but now they're stuck.

They've made a rock opera essentially & they know the story they're telling in the album: an alpha detective finds themselves swept up in a missing persons case turned to a murder case tht leads them into a vampiric city underground, literal blood sucking mafia essentially, where they finds the victims omega mate amongst a coven of vampires, now turned & mated to the vampire tht leads the entire underground, the victim had been abusing the omega & when they went to the vampire mafia bc they saw no other recourse, the omega was discovered to b the reincarnation of the leaders first & only love, the album/opera ends w the detective being fed to the hungry horde.

They're throwing ideas back & forth for the music videos w their ever talented manager/agent/creative coordinator A!Chrissy, they have a disappointing meeting but when they come back the next day Chrissy has pep in her step & proudly shows them a YouTube video. It's a critique of one of their music videos from their first big break album, it'd been vaguely set in the middle ages/Renaissance, except this person doesn't care abt the music instead they’re observing the costumes, explaining the time period they'd been borrowing from, how the costumes would've been constructed/actually looked during the historic period they'd presented. Then Chrissy shows them a video of this YouTube channel constructing a Victorian opera gown & opera suit. It's a eureka moment as the band realizes where she's going w this, a Victorian vampire is classic! Why not lean into the whole thing? Eddie is quiet as they discuss giving one word & noncommittal answers, bc he's stuck staring at the gorgeous omega in the paused video, then he speaks up over all the noise saying they NEED this specific historian on their creative team specifically to consult & design the costumes. Chrissy raises an eyebrow but agrees

Steve agrees, signs a rlly big NDA, & is flown out to LA so he can begin his role as a consultant/designer for the 6 music videos the band has conceptualized for the album.

Steve meets the entire team at a meeting meant to discuss & establish the various logistics needed to make the videos the quality the band wants, they've hired a famous horror cinematographer, an even more famous horror director, everyone in the meeting has a lot of experience in a big scale filming environment & Steve doesn't, but he tries to not let it get to him. He wears garments he made himself (ofc) some of them he made on the channel even. A walking skirt in a very sensible deep green & an embroidered matching walking jacket r the focus of the outfit, when he gets to the building he's met by Chrissy & she leads him to the meeting room. He meets everyone especially the band, Eddie stumbles over his words, when Steve removes his walking jacket to reveal the equally green vest Eddie chokes on his water.

Blah blah blah

They don't want any of the ppl who audition for the role of the omega, Eddie is playing the vampire boss ofc & everyone's gotten closer to Steve & tht means everyone basically loves Steve, & hey he's an omega who is more than just pretty & he'd have a rlly easy time making a costume for himself, so Steve ends up as the omega in the music videos. Steddie get closer than they should since Eddie is technically Steve's boss

by the time the albums dropped with the music videos dropping each following week they've fallen fully in love & have discussed mating & Eddie’s been seen w a mystery omega around multiple cities but what's got everyone interested is the fact tht this is clearly the same person & they've been "practicing" for trying for a pup for awhile now😏

Dustin has a full freak out abt his older brother working w his favorite band of all time, AND HE HAD TO FIND OUT THRU PAPARAZZI THT HES DATING EDDIE MUNSON, when he tries to go to Robin w his melodrama tht rlly is more boundless happiness for Steve she blinks at him & tells him she already knew, Steve had told her abt their relationship literally two minutes after a conversation tht was followed by sex tht cemented them as romantic partners, before Dustin can leave to call his mom Robin tells him she knows already as well, after all Eddie had to ask SOMEONE for their blessing to mate & marry Steve & that's how Dustin learns they're engaged 🥰

i love how Steve is just living his best life (AKA making his hyperfixation into a career) and ends up snatched up by a rockstar with big ole heart eyes!!! he deserves nothing less!!!

[ferrstappen]

everybody wants a taste vol. 2 l Lando Norris

a/n: i just had to write this to have a clear mind. it'snot the best, i'm sorry but i hope you like it anyway <3 i have a project in mind that I CANNOT WAIT to share so i needed to write this after months of promising, i'm sorry.

summary: everybody wants a taste part ii

Lando did everything he could to stop his mind from thinking about you and why you still weren’t in the hotel room. 

You were wrong, you were oh-so-wrong from walking away like that in the middle of an argument, especially when he was trying to let you know how he was feeling, letting out the repressed emotions boiling in his chest for weeks, maybe he didn’t want to say out loud that they had been gnawing his insides for months now.  

But when he noticed the expensive velvet dress lifeless on the floor, his heart beat faster and his hands started sweating as he reminisced about the FaceTime call while he was racing in Mexico and you were in Paris, trying to get the phone to stay upright to show him the different gowns for the multiple red carpets awaiting, planning on the color of his bowtie and shoes, whining when you insisted he had to shave, at least for the Oscars. 

He was sad, yes, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t pissed off still. Lando was not going to back off, not this time. The problem was, neither were you while you walked towards the hotel room to collect your things. 

It probably was the most silent plane ride either of you’d ever been on, with Lando putting on his headphones and playing a random video game as you pulled the covers and tried to get some sleep, dreading the moment you stepped inside your precious home in Montecarlo, with fans, mostly Lando’s, trying to get a peek inside the luxury car carrying you, and the painfully obvious discomfort and sadness that would go beyond the polarized windows and bright flashes.

Because that was it for the rest of the time. 

Silence.

It’s not like you decided to sweep it under the rug and pretend it never happened, no, it was lingering in the air; whenever you woke up, when he texted “I love you” when you let him know you got a new role, when he spent some days in England and only texted once he was there, when he felt an enormous surge of pride when your name was announced as a nominee for the Golden Globes, but seconds later his name was announced as well. 

And it all came back. 

Rumors started flooding, and you weren’t stupid, making an extreme effort to fly to Abu Dhabi to support him during the last race of the season, even if it meant not sleeping for almost 48 hours and flying from one continent to the other in the middle of a press tour. 

Maybe that was the beginning of starting to feel like yourself again, when he spotted you and gave you his thousand dollar smile, with his eyes shining so bright in the night, his arms embracing your body as your lips found his forehead before his traveled to their home on your lips. 

It was blissful, going Christmas shopping together hand in hand, carrying a list to not forget something, walking hand in hand in the cold weather, and smiling at anyone who recognized you, even if the security guard walking a few steps ahead of you warned you weren’t stopping for photos that day.

The problem was the loud places outside and cute gifts, mixing families and kisses over the helmet, were just a moment during the loud silence, the plastic smiles, falling asleep alone on your bed while you listened to his high-pitched laugh through the walls. 

And in the blink of an eye, Hollywood called back and you were gone again. 

It was hard to hide the fact your boyfriend wasn’t with you during his free time as he usually would, he was more than acquainted with movie critics and journalists, just as you were in the different tracks, whenever possible people knew Lando would be by your side and you’d be right there next to him. 

Maybe the saddest part, you thought, was the text you received saying he wouldn’t be able to attend the Golden Globes, the night you were expected to win and keep hyping up the way to the golden statue. 

“can’t go darling, they need me in HQ and then some quadrant stuff”

You ignored the pain when the stylist asked the color of your dress and if Lando was gonna wear a matching bow tie, when fans asked where he was and you had to answer he was busy even if there were videos of him on TikTok driving around Monaco and spending nights at Jimmiz. 

Lando swears he didn’t start acting like that to hurt you, things just happened that way. The likes under some random beautiful girl on Instagram were just a thing of the moment, she was the girlfriend of a friend and could use the boost, or she was super nice during a night out, or she was at the apartment of some random person you’d never heard about before. 

Testing started and you weren’t there, but it was easier for Lando to explain your absence: “She’s getting ready for the big night, the Oscars are around the corner and none of us need the distractions right now”

User1: yikes, not Lando saying his girlfriend is a distraction ON A LIVE INTERVIEW

User2: I give them 3 months, tops. 

User3: nah I think they broke up already, they’ve been miserable since her movie premiered

User4: you mean y/n’s been miserable bc I know my boy Lando has been hitting the clubs and the likes

User5: he deserves it after his gf fucked tom holland though

User6: it’s called acting. 

User5: it sure as hell didn’t look like it

User7: what was the name of that portuguese girl again????

You swore you wouldn’t see comments, but it was an impossible task, even if the result was you crying in a hotel room, alone, helpless as all you received were heart emojis, blue tickets, and voicemail. 

The Oscars came and he promised he’d be there. 

It was tense, but you tried your best to ignore it and say it was nerves, you’d never been nominated before and it felt like you were going to be sick. 

Then, a streak of light appeared the night before when he held you tight, kissed your forehead, and said you were the best, that you were going to win and if you didn’t it wasn’t important because this was the first of many. 

And then, your mind cleared of all the comments, the seen messages, and the little white lies. 

You both walked the red carpet, with big smiles, and sparkly eyes as the crowd swooned while watching Lando help you with the dress, fixing your hair, carrying your purse. It was all a blur until they called your name.

Lando was the first one up, ignoring etiquette and bending and kissing you while you were processing what had just happened. The thing is, even in that hazy moment you noticed the grip of his hand on your waist tightened when Tom congratulated you before you started the short walk to the stage.

You thanked the crew, the producers, fellow actors, and Lando for his unconditional support. Even if you and he knew it was a blatant lie because of the months of uncertainty if he was with someone else, the miserable feeling of doubting yourself because maybe, just maybe, you weren’t enough for him; beautiful, rich, talented, exceptional Lando Norris. 

Lando maybe suspected it but didn’t say anything as the flight from Los Angeles to Monaco repeated itself, but one thing was different. Yes, it was quiet, but not tense, he saw you concentrated on reading a book, not giving him much attention. 

The car ride was the same, with flashes and people trying to reach both of you, but Lando more as he stayed behind. 

You were inside the car and observed him, the beautiful women asking to have five seconds with him and he did everything with a smile. Maybe you could throw a tantrum because he was always surrounded by beautiful and smart girls who wanted a little bit of his attention, a part of his job? The answer was bitter. 

The apartment was tranquil, the view of the marina breathtaking, but you knew this was the last of you there, this wasn’t home anymore.

And Lando knew it right when he saw you standing in the middle of the living room, not letting go of the luggage you were carrying, and your eyes were watery as your lips reddened. 

“Please don’t,” he whispered, you were barely able to hear him. 

Tears were streaming down your face as you shook your head, “You know it has to be this way. It’s not fair for us…” You took a deep breath. “No, you know? It’s unfair to me because you’re living your life, which is fine, but you left me behind because of what? Jealousy? No, Lando, just…”

Lando was silent: “I know, I know it was wrong I’m so sorry,” he mumbled.

“I know you are, but I think… I’m done for now, I deserve better and you do as well, you have to be with someone who makes you feel secure and that’s not me… I’m sorry.”

So you left Monaco, left Lando, hung the VIP McLaren lanyards, and said goodbye to the track.

You didn’t feel better, Lando didn’t feel better, but it was for the best.

Or something like that. 

[hurts2think]

Hi! I really liked your profile and every now and then I check to see if you've written anything new. And I'm especially happy to see your love for the queer community!

I'd like to request something for Queen of hearts x fem!reader. Maybe their interaction in the morning after spending the night together. They're not really a couple and it's casual, but you can see that they both care about each other. Some bickering and small sassy remarks towards each other, but still a lot of compliments (both are too stubborn and oblivious to notice the other's feelings). Maybe all this in the context of the famous meme with lesbians doing each other's makeup (because I can't get enough of Rita Ora's brilliant makeup in this movie). Thanks in advance, have a nice day! 💖

🌹The Queen of Hearts x Reader🌹

Reader pronouns: She/her

Pairing: Queen of Hearts x Fem! servant! reader

Plot: Becoming a personal servant for the Queen meant a lot, little did you know it meant waking up in her bed and finding yourself with unexplainable feelings for her

Word count: 1.6k

Extra: Thank you so much you're so sweet😭🫶 it's currently 2 am so this one is kind of a mess but I hope you still love it🎀

When you were first selected for this job, you were honored yet a little horrified. It was a very huge opportunity but the past couple of people who held this job were ‘fired’, which was putting it lightly… You really didn’t have a choice on if you accepted or denied the job. The Queen wanted you so you had to listen.

You thought maybe you’d live a little more comfortably (financially speaking) than the other people of the kingdom before you eventual demise, but never would you have expected for this job to lead up to you waking up in the Queen’s bed.

Being the Queen’s personally assistant meant spending lots of time around her, of course. You did anything and everything she told you too. Running errands for her, fetching anything she may need, helping her dress, and undress, really whatever she didn’t feel like doing.

And she was gorgeous, of course. Everyone knew that. But you were both women so it's not like it was awkward or anything, right? Well, after so many times of helping her in and out of her gowns, it was hard not to look. The Queen was always very observant of everything, so naturally she saw the way you’d fidget and avert your eyes everytime. Then it was like she was purposely trying to make you squirm. One think led to another, and then another, and now you’re laying next to her in her grand bed.

And, well, this wasn’t exactly the first time this had happened.

You stared at the ceiling, really starting to question what has become of your life. The light from the sun started to gently peak through the red tented windows, casting a soft red glow into the room. You turn your head to see a still sleeping Queen, who even looked regal in her slumber with the light reflecting on her perfectly clear skin.

You carefully got up, cautious to not wake her, and grabbed your clothes that had been discarded on the floor the night prior. You changed into your usual attire, preparing to start your day. Better to get a head start before she woke and started to complain about something you hadn’t had time to do yet.

You always secretly wished you had something more with her. Because, as awful as she may seemed, you'd grown quite fond of her. You started to actually care for her outside of the fact you had to. But you knew she could never feel the same. You were tired of the same awkward silence after a long night with her to only pretend nothing happened.

After Bridget woke you helped her get ready for the day. You helped her into her extravagant gown, pulling the corset of the dress perhaps a little too tightly on accident.

"I'm sorry if I'm distracting you, but please do be more careful," she casted a glare at you and you immediately loosened the corset, you face heating up a little.

"Sorry, your majesty." You apologize quietly, fixing the back of her dress and fluffing the skirt of it. She rolled your eyes at your response but didn't say anything else.

Once you were done with her gown she'd demanded you did her makeup as well. Usually she did her own makeup so you weren't sure why she wanted you to do it. But you did so anyway. You stood in front of her as she sat in front of the mirror, carefully applying her intense eyeshadow as she stares at your face intently.

You stay focused and try not to notice the way she was staring at you. You finish her eyeshadow and then pull out one of her various deep red lipsticks that were of course shaped like hearts.

But as you were about to apply the lipstick you felt a hand firmly set on your waist and pulling you into her lap. You let out a small noise of surprise in response, looking her in the eyes as if asking what she was doing.

"I don't know why you must keep your distance, it's not as if I bite." She says, her face as stone cold as ever while her eyes trail on you up and down.

Your eyes narrow ever so slightly as you let out a soft scoff, "We both know that's not true."

She smirks, as if proud of herself in someway in response to your comment.

You gently grab her face to hold her still while you started to apply her lipstick, making her already beautifully colored lips an even deeper red. You bit the inside of your mouth, having a hard time controlling yourself while being so close and sitting in her lap.

"You seem distracted." The Queen states, though it was obvious she was mocking you and knew exactly what she was doing.

You look her in the eyes and give her a look that sceams you want to say something snarky but know you can't. And she loved it. She loved seeing you get frustrated and unable to make any kind of snarky rebuttal.

It was weird the way she found herself becoming attached to you. At first she thought she'd sentence you off like the others, but you've already been around much longer. Then she convinced herself she only admired how much of a diligent woman you were. Then she tried to tell herself she only liked the way you got along with her daughter just fine, something she was never able to do. But it was only so long before she couldn't deny the feelings she felt for you.

After you finished her makeup Bridget was ready for the day. She had court which you weren't actually supposed to attend. So, while she was being carried out on her throne, you were running around the castle and taking on many errands and jobs while she was away. She trusted you with pretty much everything which just meant MORE work for you.

As tired as you were and how you couldn't wait for the day to be over, you still got all of your work done in a quick and efficient manner and a way that would be acceptable for the queen.

A little later in the day, you were finishing up an errand before you returned back to the Queen's side.

You knock on the large double doors to her room before entering, seeing a very stressed Bridget sitting at her desk.

"Ugh, there you are." She only spares one glance at you before turning away again.

You could only suppose that court did not go well. "Do you need anything, your majesty?" You ask, a little too scared to actually ask what was wrong.

But it seemed you didn't need to because she was more than happy to start complaining about how horribly court went,

"I can never understand that girl. It's like she's learned nothing that I've ever taught her! After that indolent solider couldn't even protect my portrait or plaza, Red couldn't even properly punish him. How will she ever be Queen?" She lets out a frustrated sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose with her index finger and thumb.

It wasn't unusual for the Queen to speak of her troubled relationship with her daughter. So you did as you usually did, setting your clipboard aside and coming up beside her and massaging her shoulders. Her body visibly relaxed, closing her eyes and already letting out a little tension.

You stayed silent and like that for a moment before she spoke again, "What should I do about her?"

Your face scrunches in confusion, "You're asking me?" You ask for reassurance. It wasn't very often she asked you for advise. Especially about her daughter. She was the kind of mother that was stuck in her own ways and refused to hear anyone out.

She rolled her eyes, "Yes. She seems to favor you, why is that? Why does she listen to some servant girl and not her own mother?"

You try to ignore the jab she made at you, "Well, if you're asking me... I think she just wants to be in charge of her own life without someone telling her how to live it..." You advise, still rubbing her shoulders to keep her relaxed.

The Queen of Hearts' eyes narrowed, "In charge of her own life? That's ridiculous. She gets to be a queen, what more could she possibly want?"

"Maybe a mother who will listen to her and let her decide what kind of queen she wants to be?" You felt you were getting a little too risky with what you were saying and you'd anger her but her response was not what you'd expected.

She sighed, holding her hand ontop of yours to signal you to stop massaging her. Her touch was surprisingly gentle and soft, "What would I do without you?" She asked though it was purely rhetorical. "Go speak to her about this," the Queen demanded.

You took her hand and held it, walking around to the front of the chair to look her in the eyes, "Maybe she'd appreciate it better if her mother was the one to go talk to her about it?" You suggest.

She rolled her eyes, but stayed silent. She looked at you as if conflicted about something. Really, she was thinking about how amazing you were. Nothing she felt she could ever say. Your hands were so soft, your voice was sweet, you personality was so caring. How could she not fall for you? You were irresistible.

"Fine." She scoffed, "But it will lead to another argument that you will have to clean up again."

You smile softly, taking the Queen of Hearts' hand and pressing a soft kiss on her knuckles, "I'm always happy to."

[kurogane2512]

So there's this fluffy thought I can't get my mind off of, imagine famous actress! Signora with a wife who still flirts with her, who would still court her even after they got married and just look absolutely in love with Signora 🥺 (can you tell i love Signora)

-🐯

WE love Signora here 😩 Pls I would totally be head over heels for her even in old age 😭❤️

Genshin Impact | Modern AU

Actress!La Signora x fem!reader | Fluff

The blinding flashes of cameras, cheers from the crowd and noise from the reporters burst forth the moment the most-awaited car drove through the driveway. An all too familiar yet exquisite deep red color adorned it's exterior, heralded as the most expensive car in the world and known to have only 4 models ever- Rolls-Royce La Rose Noire Droptail. There was only 1 person in this country that owned this beautiful beast, the everlasting beauty whom the car was named after- Rosalyne Lohefalter, or famously known by her stage name, La Signora.

"Signora! Miss Signora! Look here! Look at the camera!" the cameramen, reporters and fans all shouted in unison as the car hood rolled back giving way to the star herself. Signora waved at the people around with a gentle smile on her face, meanwhile the person accompanying her who was none other than her wife got out of the car and walked around to open the door for her. You extended your hand to your wife who accepted with a smile and finally showed herself in her full glory. You kissed the top of her hand as she stepped out, grinning at her slightly flustered reaction.

"Look here! Miss Signora! Ms Y/n! Pose together! You both look gorgeous!"

The people shouted and you decided to oblige them by posing with your wife for a few photos before stepping away to give her her spotlight. This event was for her, she was the star and she deserved every bit of this treatment. The camera flashes added more sparkle to her low-cut dazzling white gown that was adorned with roses and embroidery near the base. Her shining blonde hair flowed freely, styled with 2 rose buns and rose accessories in her hair. She waved and blew kisses at the camera as she walked forward before stopping and turning around to look at you, extending her hand out.

"Let's go, my love~"

You smiled and joined hands then walked the red carpet together. The camera flashes and cheers didn't stop even for a moment as you walked, she really was a star unlike anyone else. You were attending an awards show where she was nominated for the Best Actress award for her latest movie which was a blockbuster, critics and fans alike expected her to bag the award for sure. She had everything a star actress could, she was set to become legendary and be remembered for decades to come.

You reached the main photo area of the venue, Rosalyne greeted some of her friends and co-stars on the way then pulled you to the photo area for her turn. You were keen to let her have her solo photos but the photographers requested you to join in as you made a perfect couple. You snaked you arm around her waist and posed together for some photos before letting go and stepping to the side, once again she did some solo poses for the eager fans and camera.

She looked at you and you exchanged smiles, a light blush crawling up her cheeks whenever your eyes met. She was then ready to walk off, you offered your hand to her from afar and she barely grasped it when you suddenly pulled her closer and pressed her body against yours before connecting your lips together. The crowd gasped and broke in excited cheers even more, the camera clicks and flashes going haywire at the unforgettable moment.

Rosalyne's eyes widened in surprise the moment you kissed, yet her hands held your shoulders in a natural way as if you had practiced this when in reality, you hadn't. Your arms secured her waist in a possessive yet gentle way, you loved surprising her this way and you knew she loved it too. The kiss was short-lived, you parted with a smile and she appeared awestruck, the noise from the people around inaudible to her as only you occupied her senses.

"Shall we go in, Rosa?~"

Your voice brought her back to her senses and she covered her blushing face then nodded and walked with you without sparing a glance at the cameras despite the constant requests. Everyone wanted to capture her flustered face, but only you had the privilege of making it happen in the first place. It was surreal to see a famous and talented actress like her become embarrassed of such moments, but that's what made her so humane and adorable.

The way you showered her in affection at such places always caught her off guard despite how much she had experienced it, she just couldn't get used to it. Rosalyne looked down for the rest of the way before you were stopped by an interviewer and she donned her usual confident expression and held your arm lovingly. You too would always get surprised at how apt she was at adapting to situations this way, but she wouldn't be a star like this if she couldn't do this.

"Ms Signora, how excited are you for the evening? Ready to bag your award for the 4th consecutive year, I suppose?~" the interviewer asked, and Rosalyne gave a simple smile.

"Well, I'd hope so. But there are many other deserving candidates this time so I wouldn't regret losing, it should go to whoever deserves it. I'm just happy to be here with my darling~" she cuddeled into your chest.

"Speaking of your partner, how are you feeling, Ms Y/n?" the interviewer asked you now.

"Uh, well, I'm definitely more nervous here than her that's for sure." you chuckled.

"Oh, you don't know how the fans talk about you both. You have certainly found a way into their hearts, in more ways than one~"

You chuckled with a shrug of your shoulders, "I have seen some messages, yes. They are quite.... daring, to put it nicely~"

The interviewer chuckled along, "You can't blame them now, can you? Some people want to be you and some want you! Have you seen those messages, Ms Signora?~"

Rosalyne's grip on your arm tightened for a moment before she loosened it to answer the interviewer, "Of course, I have. All I can say is I'm blessed to have her by my side. And I'm not giving her to anyone~"

Signora winked at the camera with a smirk. The interviewer laughed more then wished you both a good time and let you walk away. You made your way inside the arena when you noticed Rosalyne seemed to be deep in thought.

"Rosa, are you okay?"

Rosalyne looked at you with a pout then rested her head on your shoulder, "I have told you to refrain from public affection at such events.... I can't imagine how the media will react to that kiss now."

You grinned, "I don't care how they'll react. I simply wanted to love my wife, is that wrong?~"

"Mm, I know. I liked it too but..."

She squeezed your arm more then mumbled something inaudible. You smiled to yourself and remained silent as you already knew what she was feeling. You got seated at your designated table and the show began soon after. After an hour, the most awaited moment of the night came- the announcement of the Best Actress award. The nominations were announced followed by a dramatic silence as the envelope was opened.

You held Rosalyne's hand and gently squeezed it, the two of you exchanging smiles with each other. You couldn't deny you were far more nervous than her, you knew she won't be as upset about losing but you really wanted her to win. She was the most deserving in your eyes. Rosalyne noticed your nervousness and smiled to herself before gently patting your arm and looking at you.

"La Signora!"

A roar of claps and cheers erupted as her name was announced as the winner. Your heart skipped a beat and you immediately hugged her then exchanged a small kiss before escorting her to the stage, you kissed the top of her hand before releasing it as she climbed up and waved at the crowd while you stood in front and took her pictures and made a video of her speech.

"I would extend this award to my director and rest of the crew who made the film a possibility and gave me the platform for this, it was truly amazing working with such talented people and I am thankful to my fans for always supporting me. Last but not least, I couldn't do this without my Y/n so a big thank you for being here, darling~"

Rosalyne gave a short and sweet speech as she had prepared before blowing a flying kiss to the crowd and beginning to descend. You quickly went to the stairs and helped her get down, then took her by surprise doing an unexpected action. You picked her up bridal style in your arms, she almost gasped then chuckled and wrapped her arms around your neck and lovingly embraced you as you walked back to your table.

More cheers, claps and even whistles could be heard now. Rosalyne kissed your cheek then held you tightly, you placed her on her chair then sat on yours beside her. Both of you took a moment to look at the trophy then exchanged a small kiss and continued watching the rest of the show. You had initially planned to stay for the after-party but you couldn't wait to take her home, you had planned so much for this moment.

You excused yourselves after the event and decided to go home together. Rosalyne questioned why you were so eager to go back, but she assumed you simply wanted to be alone with her to celebrate her victory. You reached her bunglow then quickly got out of the car and opened the door for her, holding out your hand and helping her come out. She was about to walk forward but you surprisingly put a blindfold on her eyes and started guiding her inside.

"My love? What is happening?"

"Shh, just come with me."

Rosalyne felt excited wondering if you had a surprise for her, you always did so much to love her and support her. She heard a few doors open as you walked before finally making her stand at a place as you removed her blindfold.

"Ta-da!"

You exclaimed and she was spellbound at the scene in front. It was her room yet it looked so different decorated with all sorts of balloons and flowers. You brought out a table that had a cake on top with the writing, "Congratulations". Tears of happiness formed in her eyes and she couldn't hold back from embracing you tightly.

"Thank you, my sweetheart... Oh, what did I do to deserve you in my life?"

You smiled and patted her back, "Be yourself, that's all. I love you, Rosa. Today is your day, I'm so happy for you."

She kissed your cheek then cut the cake and happily fed you a piece, you opened the bottle of wine kept under the table and poured it in 2 glasses. You played her favorite music and handed her one glass as both of you sat on the bedside and celebrated together; you drank, laughed and danced together.

She had never felt so appreciated before, she didn't know how to express her gratefulness for you. Before long, you found yourself pinned on the bed with her straddling you and your lips joined in a passionate kiss. Rosalyne wanted to give back for all that you did, she wanted you to feel appreciated too just like you made her feel.

"I love you... I love you so much, my darling...." she mumbled between kisses and proceeded to undress you both, followed by a passionate night of lovemaking.

[thebettybook]

(Chapter 1) A Spin on an Enchanted Tale

Characters: Miguel O’Hara, fem!reader, Gabriella O’Hara

Chapter 1 summary: My Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader AU inspired by Disney’s Enchanted (2007). Reader (a princess cosplayer in their late 20s) meets Miguel O’Hara (a 31-year-old single dad who doesn’t believe in fairy tales) and his adorable five-year-old daughter Gabriella O’Hara on a night in Nueva York

Warnings: A fluff story with just a sprinkle of Miguel angst

Spanish used (I used SpanishDict): Papá (Dad); Por el amor de Dios (For the love of God); Dulce sueños, mi solecita (Sweet dreams, my lovely sunshine); Tres leches cake (Sponge cake soaked in three different types of milk)

Chapters: Ch 1 {below} | Ch 2 | Ch 2.5 | Ch 3 {in progress}

“And they lived happily ever after.”

That was the phrase you could always count on at the end of each and every one of your favorite fairy tales.

That was the ending phrase that marked new beginnings, and so far, your “new beginning” seemed like it had already ended.

You let out a sigh, shifting against the metal bench you sat on. It was only about an hour or two since you were kicked out of your apartment; your landlady was tired of you being behind on rent.

To be fair, it wasn’t really your fault (as you tried to justify to yourself). An aspiring fantasy cosplay designer in their late 20s who wanted to create princess gowns, you moved to Nueva York to learn from the best of fashion houses that specialized in haute couture.

As with moving to any major city with bright optimism would go, you found yourself rejected by every fashion house you could find and turned to part-time work as a princess cosplayer for children’s parties.

Even though you loved your work as a princess cosplayer for children’s parties, the lack of pay from the job led you to this exact moment: sitting on a bench in full princess wedding cosplay and a suitcase carrying all of your belongings (a few day outfits in dire need of a good wash, your sewing machine, and a bundle of fabric scraps and accessories you kept with you at all times) parked next to you.

Ok, maybe it was your fault for thinking you could “make it” in a big city, as if you were in a movie or something.

At least no one was gawking at you. Nueva Yorkers were far too busy rushing into the many restaurants and shops around you or too busy looking at their phones to notice a “princess” in their midst.

Endless layers of ivory tulle pooled around you, shifting against each other as you lifted your feet a bit in front of you to make sure the dirt on the Nueva York streets didn’t soil your gown.

Your fingers picked up one puff sleeve larger than the size of your head that began to droop down your shoulder. If you weren’t kicked out of your apartment, you would have admired your handiwork on the gown—a white puff-sleeved wedding dress with a bustier corset and full floor-length skirt outlined with ruby lines.

You found the dress at a thrift store the day you moved to Nueva York and brought home to spruce it up, and had finally gotten the chance to wear the gown earlier today for a job at a child’s birthday party where you were requested to be the child’s favorite princess in a wedding gown. Your coworker, who was supposed to show up as the prince in his wedding attire, didn’t even come.

Despite that, you made sure the child had a fun party by putting on your best impression of the princess character and singing the character’s songs to the best of your ability along with the child.

A sad smile graced your lips for the first time tonight. You always believed that magic could be found in situations of the unexpected, but right now it was hard to find even a speck of magic to make you feel better.

A groan escaped from your lips as your tiara began to slip, too. The gold tiara nestled on top of your head, gleaming against the Nueva York moonlight with beaded ivory flowers you hot-glued onto the tiara, weighed on your head—heavy with all the questions that began to swirl in your mind.

I’ll have to call my boss tomorrow. How do I tell her I’m basically homeless now?

What do I do now? Where do I go?

You didn’t have any friends in Nueva York you could call about your current situation. Sure, you were friendly with your party princess coworkers, but you all didn’t contact each other much outside of work. Thus, staying with a friend wasn’t an option for you.

Your hands made their way up to your head, plucking off the tiara. You held it in your hands, gliding your fingers over the beaded flowers of the tiara.

The irony of being dressed like a princess in a wedding gown about to ride off into the sunset—or in your case, moonlight—to “happily ever after”—

“Are you a princess?” A voice so small, yet filled with such curiosity and wonder, interrupted your thoughts.

Your eyes flew up from your tiara to the owner of the voice. The voice matched its owner—a little girl who stared at you with awe.

She didn’t look older than six, and seemed to be into soccer, as you saw from her lavender soccer uniform, waves of dark-brown hair tied up in a ponytail, and black-and-white soccer cleats. She also had the same look most children from the parties you worked at did—her warm brown eyes widened and her mouth on the brim of beaming the sunniest of smiles at seeing you like you were a dream come true.

You couldn’t help but offer her a smile; even if your day wasn’t going great, you could at least make someone else’s day great.

“I suppose you could call me that,” you let out a twinkling laughter—one that you learned to perfect for your princess performances. “I’m Princess Y/N.”

“I knew it!” The little girl’s eyes shined like stars—something you’ve never seen in your time in Nueva York. “You’re so pretty, and your tiara is really pretty, too!”

Your lips broke into the most genuine smile you’ve had all day. “You think so?” You held the tiara out so that the little girl could see it better. “Wanna know a secret?”

The little girl nodded, her ponytail swishing behind her.

“I made it myself,” you revealed in a loud whisper, the back of your hand to the side of your lips.

“How?!” The girl’s eyes brimmed with even more curiosity. “I didn’t know princesses could make their own tiaras!”

“Princesses can do or make anything they want,” you winked, making the little girl giggle. “Whether that’s wearing a tiara from the castle’s treasury or sprucing up a $5 one with some paint and a hot-glue gun.”

As the child marveled at your tiara, you scanned your surroundings for any parent or guardian that the girl might’ve belonged to. To your slightly-frantic dismay, the people around you and the little girl just keep walking.

“Little one, could you please tell me your name? And if you have a mom or dad or guardian nearby?” you offered the child a kind smile. If you didn’t find the girl’s parent or guardian and the girl was lost, you decided that you would help the girl and call the police.

She nodded, her eyes moving up from your tiara to you. “I’m Gabriella, but you can call me Gabi. I don’t have a mom, but I have a—”

“Gabriella!” A man’s voice, ringing with worry, called out to the little girl. The thuds of his footsteps grew in volume as he ran towards the two of you and cut through some pedestrians who shot him annoyed glares before resuming their walks.

“Papá!” Gabriella ran towards the man, who immediately scooped her up in a hug.

“I was so worried I lost you,” the man’s voice was only filled with immense relief. He towered over most of the pedestrians around the three of you. While he was tall (probably over 6 ft tall), you couldn’t see his face clearly as he buried his face in the crook of Gabriella’s neck.

Gabriella managed to wiggle her way out of her father’s tight grasp. “I wasn’t lost, I was talking to Princess Y/N!” Gabriella turned around in her father’s arms to smile and point at you.

At the mention of your name, the man’s head snapped up. Your breath hitched; from the way his dark-brown hair swept back and curled at the nape of his neck to highlight his chiseled cheekbones and jaw to the biceps that bulged under his cerulean blazer and white dress shirt, he was nothing short of handsome. The warmth in his hickory orbs at the sight of Gabriella only made him more handsome in your eyes. Truly, he put every prince cosplayer you’ve ever worked with to shame.

Despite the sharp lines under his eyes, Gabriella’s father looked like he was in his early 30s. Before you could introduce yourself or assure him that his child was safe all along, his thick, dark brows furrowed and his eyes narrowed at you. The warmth in his eyes grew cold with suspicion as he scanned you from head-to-toe. You didn’t seem like a threat, but as a father, he had to ensure his child’s safety.

“I was going to call the police if I couldn’t find her parents or guardians,” you couldn’t help but let out in a rush, feeling the need to explain yourself as he continued to eye you.

After what felt like an eternity of his eyes on you, and after him coming to the silent conclusion that you were telling the truth, Gabriella’s father set her down and took her hand in his. He stepped forward, extending his free hand to you.

“Thank you for looking after my daughter,” he gazed down at you, his frown lines softening as he offered you a half-smile. “I’m Miguel O’Hara.”

“Of course,” you brought your hand toward his. He didn’t hesitate to give you a firm handshake. “I’m Y/F/N Y/L/N. I’m a princess cosplayer for children’s birthday parties, so before you think I’m some criminal trying to kidnap children or something here, I just got kicked out of my apartment right after coming back from a job in this getup.”

Gabriella’s father’s–Miguel’s–smile vanished, his brows knitting together. “Why’d you get kicked out?” His accusatory tone indicated that he wondered if you got kicked out of your apartment for any suspicious reasons on your part.

You fought the urge to let out a sigh of frustration. You had a long day, and you didn’t appreciate being interrogated by this frustratingly-handsome man, but you also understood his concern since he almost lost his daughter.

“I got kicked out because I was behind on rent,” you turned your face away from him in an effort to hide any hint of embarrassment on your face. “Being a princess cosplayer for children’s parties doesn’t exactly help pay bills. After I got kicked out, I ended up sitting here and Gabriella came up to me.”

“Ah,” Miguel paused and pursed his lips, not really sure what to say to make a stranger (a stranger he now deemed as a harmless stranger) feel better. “I’m…sorry you got kicked out.”

“Thanks,” you turn your face back towards him, now being the one to give him a half-smile. Your eyes then flitted down to your and his hands, realizing he didn’t let go of your hand till now. Miguel’s eyes followed yours before retracting his hand with an awkward chuckle. In a poor effort to make things less awkward, you echoed with an awkward laugh of your own.

You were both too preoccupied with this interaction of pure awkwardness to notice Gabriella’s movements. The top of her head barely reached Miguel’s knees as she switched her gaze from her father, to you, and then to your hand in his. A grin a mile wide lit up on her face at the two of you, the wheels in her five-year-old brain turning.

“Papá,” she began. At his daughter’s voice, Miguel instantly turned his attention back to her and kneeled down to face her at eye level.

“I’m glad you’re safe, but what did I say about running off by yourself and talking to strangers?” You noticed that Miguel’s voice was nothing but soft and gentle every time he talked with Gabriella.

Gabriella clasped her hands behind her back. “That I shouldn’t. I’m sorry, I just wanted to talk to the princess. But I won’t go away by myself anymore, pinky promise.”

She held out her right pinky in front of her, making her all the more adorable. Miguel only had a soft smile as he linked his own right pinky with Gabriella’s.

You eased down on the bench in silence, your half-smile growing as you watched the way Miguel gently swiped away a stray eyelash from Gabriella’s cheek with the back of his thumb.

You could tell he was having a hard time kneeling down with his tall stature and all by the way he shifted his feet behind him. But you also noticed that he kept kneeling down to appear somewhat at eye and height level with Gabriella so that he could foster healthy discussions between the two of them as parent and child. Even though you just met him, you could tell Miguel was a great dad and that he loved Gabriella more than anything.

“I’m just glad you’re safe.” Warmth flooded Miguel’s eyes, pooling gold flecks of honey into his hickory irises. “Let’s go home, say ‘goodbye’ to the princess.”

To your and his surprise, Gabriella shook her head furiously, her ponytail swishing from side-to-side. “No!”

“‘No’?” Miguel raised his eyebrows.

“Princess Y/N doesn’t have anywhere to go,” Gabi pointed at your suitcase, jutting her bottom lip forward to convey a pout. You were shocked she even noticed your suitcase; kids were more perceptive than you thought.

“Oh, don’t worry about me, little one,” you waved your hand, mustering the best and brightest princess smile you could put on. “I’m just waiting for my prince to arrive on his horse. Should be aaaany minute now.”

Miguel’s gaze moved from Gabriella, to your suitcase, to you. He didn’t know whether to stare at you to wonder if you were being serious about the prince and horse (and considering that this was Nueva York, he shouldn’t be too surprised), or whether to smile at the fact that you were trying to keep up your princess act for his daughter.

“My dad’s better than any prince,” Gabi took Miguel’s large hand in an effort to drag him closer to you before turning her head to gaze up at Miguel. “Papá, can the princess please stay with us? We have a ton of rooms at home.”

“No, no, it’s ok—,” you began, shaking your head as furiously as Gabriella earlier.

“—Gabi,” Miguel interrupted you, his tone a bit more firm this time. His gaze set on your gown. “We can’t just take in a stranger.”

Miguel’s hands rested on his hips. He couldn’t help but eye you from head-to-toe again, as if he was trying to detect any threats you might have kept hidden from him.

You met him with a raised brow and crossed your arms in front of your torso, trying to appear nonchalant and ignore the heat growing on your cheeks at the fact that his eyes were on you again.

“But you always tell me that it’s important to help others,” Gabriella put her hands on her hips, comically trying to mimic her father. “And I wanna help my best friend Princess Y/N.”

Miguel’s gaze dropped from yours as he turned to his daughter faster than lightning. “What? I thought I was your best friend,” he mumbled. You let out a snort of amusement as you heard Miguel sound genuinely hurt.

“You can be my best friend again if you let Princess Y/N stay with us,” Gabriella ran over to your side, sitting next to you on the bench.

She wrapped her hands around your arm and clung to your side despite the layers of tulle from your gown that tried to push her away. “I don’t want Princess Y/N to be cold and outside by herself,” Gabriella whispered as she nuzzled her face against your arm, making you want to shed tears right then and there.

“Gabi, I’ll be ok,” you tried your best to muster a smile and appear brave for Gabriella. However, you knew you weren’t being too convincing, and the subtle crack in your voice stemming from your fear of the unknown was something you didn’t miss.

Miguel didn’t miss it either as he let out a huff mixed with annoyance at the situation and sympathy for you. His daughter was just as stubborn as he could be, but she also had a point.

As a gentleman through and through, Miguel didn’t feel right with the thought of leaving a lady like you out alone on the streets of Nueva York in the middle of the night (even if he didn’t question that you could defend yourself). What kind of example would he be setting for Gabriella if he just took her home and left you here?

“…Alright, you can stay with us if you’d like,” Miguel let out with a sigh. “And you can stay with us while we help you find another place in Nueva York to live.”

Your eyes widened at his decision, and your mouth opened instinctively to say “No, thank you,” but before you could do so, Gabi ran back to her father and into his arms.

“You’re the best, Papá!” Gabi’s statement made Miguel beam brighter than the Nueva York moon as he scooped her up. If you weren’t so shocked by his proposal, you would’ve laughed at how endearing he was with his daughter.

The two O’Haras then looked at you while you tried to weigh your options, but you only had two:

1. Stay with this little family you knew nothing about

Or

2. Stay out on the streets until you could contact your boss (which would be tomorrow because you felt unprofessional at the thought of calling your boss after work hours).

“…If it’s not a bother, I would love to take you up on that offer,” you shot Miguel a smile that no doubt displayed all your nerves at the thought of staying at a stranger’s place, even though he was the one who just offered a stranger to stay at his place.

“You’re coming home with us!” Gabriella raised her hands in the hair before scrambling down from Miguel’s arms. Before you could blink, she took your right hand and tugged on it so you could stand up.

“I suppose I am,” you chuckled, letting yourself be led by the child. As you stood up, you used your left hand to smooth the front of your gown’s skirt. You then turned to your suitcase, only to see Miguel approaching it.

“I got it, if that’s ok with you,” Miguel tipped his head to the direction of your suitcase.

You nodded, letting yourself be led forward by Gabriella to the direction of wherever you assumed would be her and Miguel’s home.

“Thank you. Not just for that, but for letting me stay at your place,” you turned to Miguel as he held your suitcase’s handle with his right hand. “I haven’t met many kind people in Nueva York since I moved here.”

“It’s Nueva York, not exactly the place for fairy tales,” Miguel’s sarcasm slipped out with ease without thinking. He then turned his face away from you when he realized that he forgot you were literally dressed as a princess. “Sorry.”

“No, you’re right,” you shot him a rueful smile as the two of you fell into the rhythm of walking next to each other with Gabriella skipping between you two. With one of her hands in your right hand, Gabriella took Miguel’s left hand in her free hand. “I learned that the hard way.”

“Happens to the best of us,” Miguel replied with more sincerity this time. He didn’t follow up with anything more to say, and the two of you walked past a few streets in awkward silence, the beeps! of Nueva York taxis and Gabriella’s upbeat humming filling the silence.

“We don’t need to take a taxi?” You spoke up, trying to start a light conversation with Miguel.

“Our place is just a few minutes from here,” Miguel answered, his gaze set straight ahead. “I was actually taking Gabi to get ice cream not too far from our place after we came home from her game.”

“Yeah! We were gonna get ice cream!” Gabriella’s eyes lit up even more at the mention of ice cream. “‘Cuz I scored a goal today! Wait, Papá, where’s my ice cream?”

“I didn’t know I was in the presence of a soccer star,” you grinned down at Gabriella, who smiled toothily up at you at being called a “soccer star.”

Despite fatigue from a long day of work seeping into Miguel’s bones, his lips couldn’t help but falter from their default straight line into a small smile at seeing Gabriella be so happy—more so than usual—in your presence.

“Well, you ran off, so I had to find you and didn’t get us any ice cream,” Miguel raised an eyebrow down at Gabriella, but his smile and tone indicated his light teasing. “We can get ice cream tomorrow.”

“Yay!” Gabriella raised her hands in the air, swinging your and Miguel’s hands that held hers forward. She then spotted what you assumed to be her and Miguel’s building, and broke away from the two of you to run up ahead.

“Por el amor de Dios,” Miguel muttered under his breath, stopping in his tracks and leaving your suitcase next to you. “Why does she have to run so fast?”

Without another word, he sprinted after Gabriella. You were surprised Miguel could run fast, but you figured that it made sense since he was so built.

Your gaze then panned from Miguel catching up with Gabriella and scooping her up with ease to the building before the three of you.

The building was easily the tallest apartment complex in Nueva York—a cylindrical tower with state-of-the-art glass architecture.

“Wait…,” your voice trailed off, your chin tipped up as your eyes could barely find the tip of the tower. You walked toward Gabriella and Miguel while hauling your suitcase behind you. “Where are we?”

“We’re home!” Gabriella answered in Miguel’s arms as he stood at the glass door entrance. “Papá and I live at the very top!”

Your eyes couldn’t help but bug. “Miguel, is it ok if I ask what you do for a living?”

“I work in research,” Miguel chose not to elaborate, making him sound like a secretive spy in a movie without meaning to. His broad back was to you as he used his free hand to place a card against the building’s recognition panel. It beeped green, and you couldn’t help but feel like you were breaking into a top secret government building.

“Papá’s the king of his job!” Gabriella chimed with adorable pride for her father as the building’s double doors swished open.

You could only assume “king of his job” meant Miguel was either the CEO of his workplace or he held an equally (if not more) high position, but you decided it wiser to not ask any more questions for the time being as you followed Miguel and Gabriella to the elevator.

The elevator, like the rest of the building, was cylindrical, and spacious enough that you guessed it could probably hold 300 people at a time.

Once inside, Miguel tapped a code into a panel, which you assumed was for accessing his and Gabriella’s home. Your shock at everything only increased when the elevator ascended past 50 floors.

50…60…90…

Gabriella yawned when the elevator passed 90 floors, prompting Miguel to rub her back as she snuggled her face against his shoulder. It wasn’t long before she was out like a light, snoozing in her father’s arms.

“Dulce sueños, mi solecita,” Miguel pressed a kiss on the side of Gabriella’s head. A yawn unleashed from him after he pulled back from Gabriella at the same time you let out your own yawn.

Your eyes met his, and this time Miguel gave you a kinder, more sincere smile as he found it funny that the two of you yawned at the same time.

Ding! The elevator chimed once it reached the 99th floor, the top floor of the building. You tried to brace yourself for whatever the 99th floor would reveal of Gabriella and Miguel’s home, but nothing could’ve prepared you for the sight before you.

Their penthouse gleamed in all its glory, from the marbled flooring to the ivory spiral staircase in the left corner. To the right of the penthouse was a massive kitchen with a sleek silver stove and a matching fridge, island, and cabinets.

The walls were a simple white which only added to the elegance of the entire penthouse. You noticed that instead of expensive paintings that usual penthouses would have, the walls of this penthouse were decorated with Gabriella’s various crayon drawings and framed pictures of Gabriella and Miguel from her birth till now.

Your eyes were captivated especially by those framed pictures, but before you could step into the penthouse, you turned to Miguel.

“Shoes off?” you whispered, not wanting to wake Gabriella. He answered you with a nod.

You shuffled off your [your favorite color] sneakers, placing them on a three-tiered shoe rack by the elevator door as Miguel did the same with his burgundy dress shoes and Gabriella’s soccer cleats.

“I didn’t know princesses wore sneakers,” Miguel’s voice was so quiet that you couldn’t tell if he was serious or teasing.

“This princess does,” you straightened up, grinning as if you were revealing a corporate secret. “Especially if she has to run after children all day. Though I only wear sneakers when I get to wear long gowns like these that hide my shoes. Wouldn’t want to ruin the magic for the children.”

“We can’t have that, now, could we,” Miguel flashed you a tiny grin, revealing his pearly whites. “If children realized princesses wore sneakers and not glass slippers, that could mean the end of the multiverse.”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise at Miguel’s attempt to engage with you in light teasing and chatter. “Multiverse, huh? Are you into comic books or superheroes or something?”

He merely shrugged his free shoulder as if to appear cool and not “nerdy.” “I like science.” Before you could ask Miguel more about what comic books he liked, Gabriella stirred in his arms.

Miguel wheeled your suitcase to you with his free hand. “I’m going to set Gabriella down in her room,” he whispered in an even more hushed tone. You had to stop yourself from chuckling; he just didn’t seem like the type of person who whispered often. “Make yourself at home in the meantime.”

He made a beeline for the spiral staircase, going up to where you assumed were all the penthouse’s bedrooms.

You knew he said “make yourself at home” out of customary politeness as a host, but you found it difficult to instantly “make yourself at home” in such a grand place.

Not knowing where to sit or where you could sit, you took a step toward a wall lined with framed pictures of Gabriella as a baby.

Some photos were in black and white, some were in full color. A smile bloomed on your face at how cute Gabriella looked as a baby, her smile in the pictures just as infectious then as it was now.

You also noticed, however, that Gabriella’s biological mother wasn’t in the picture—in any picture on the walls, to be exact. There didn’t seem to be a partner in Miguel’s life either, from the way all the family pictures on the walls—whether they were selfies taken by Miguel or pictures taken by someone else—only had him and Gabriella in them.

Your nosy mind couldn’t help but wonder if maybe Gabriella was adopted or conceived via surrogate. The first theory, you crossed out of your mind since Gabriella looked too much like Miguel to be adopted.

Before you could come up with other theories, Miguel descended the spiral staircase and made his way over to you with a neatly-folded bundle of clothes in his hands. He stopped next to you and followed your gaze to one of the pictures.

“I took that one on Gabi’s first birthday,” a soft smile on his face as he nodded to a framed picture of a baby Gabriella laughing at the camera despite having globs of cake and frosting on her face and on the teeny swirls of her wavy brown hair. “That was the first time I ever made tres leches cake, and I’d say she loved it.”

You grinned at the picture, before biting your bottom lip in hesitation. “May I ask you something? You don’t have to answer.”

Miguel simply nodded, his eyes roaming the various pictures of Gabriella. “Has it always…been just you and Gabriella?” you kept your eyes forward. “Sorry, I know it’s a personal question.”

You turned your face towards Miguel, whose eyes set on a black-and-white picture of a sleeping newborn baby Gabriella, swaddled in a blanket and bald head covered with a cap.

Various emotions flickered in Miguel’s eyes which you could only guess to be sorrow, pain, confusion—not at Gabriella in the picture, but at whatever or whoever was related to that picture.

“It has,” Miguel answered simply and all-too-quickly, the edge in his tone indicating that he didn’t want to talk about the subject more.

He blinked, as if telling himself to forget whatever or whoever he was thinking about, and turned his attention back to the bundle of clothes in his hands.

“I wasn’t sure if you had any clothes to wear in the meantime, so I grabbed a couple of old shirts and pants from my closet,” Miguel’s voice sounded more normal now. “I don’t think we’re the same size, but you can keep these and use them as you see fit.”

“Thank you,” you took the bundle of t-shirts, dress shirts, and sweatpants from Miguel’s hands. You were sure they were a couple sizes larger than your own based on Miguel’s figure, but the gears were already turning in your brain on how you could sew and upcycle some of these.

“I’ll show you to your room,” Miguel began walking to the direction of the stairs once more, his long and fast strides making it difficult for you to keep up with him.

You followed him up the stairs to a spacious floor with around five rooms and more walls framed with Gabriella’s drawings and pictures of Miguel and Gabriella.

“That room is my office, and the other one is for storage,” Miguel pointed to two rooms to the right at the end of the hallway. “That’s Gabriella’s room and my room’s next to her’s.” He pointed to two rooms on the left at the other end of the hallway.

“And this will be your room for the time being,” he led you to the room in the middle next to his room. “It’s our guest room.”

He opened the door to reveal a neat room with a queen-sized bed with a bedside table, and desk near the window area. The entire room matched the sleek aesthetic of the penthouse, from the silver bedside table to the matching desk.

You rolled your suitcase onto the polished wood-tiled floor of the bedroom, noticing a private bathroom just a few feet away from the bed. The whole room felt more like a hotel room than any bedroom you’ve ever been in.

“If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask me,” Miguel stood at the door, his hands naturally resting on his hips. “Our laundry room is downstairs next to the kitchen if you need to use it tomorrow.”

“Thanks again,” you turned your attention away from the desk to Miguel, giving him a smile you hoped that conveyed your immense gratitude.

Miguel simply nodded and turned his back, ready to leave.

You couldn’t help but wonder and worry if he was mad or something at you asking him that question earlier. You also finally noticed the shadows of gray that filled the lines of stress and fatigue under his eyes.

Whether such stress and fatigue was from his mysterious job or from almost losing Gabriella tonight, you didn’t know. But what you did know was that you wanted to tell him the words on the tip of your tongue—maybe to prove to him you weren’t a bad person trying to take advantage of his and his daughter’s kindness, or maybe because you just wanted to say the following:

“Good night, Miguel. I hope you sleep well.”

Miguel stopped in his tracks before turning his face back towards you. “What?” Your statement shocked him; it had been a while since someone other than Gabriella wished him a good night’s rest, and it had been an even longer while since he actually had a good night’s rest.

“I said ‘good night’?” You cocked your head to the side, worrying if you said something wrong again. “And that I hope you sleep well?”

“…Night,” Miguel mumbled, turning his back to you once more, his hand resting on the door knob. “I hope you sleep well, too.”

The door knob clicked after Miguel ducked his head below the head of the doorframe and made his way out of the room.

You stared at the closed door for a few seconds before making your way over to the closet. It was roomy and empty, with only hangers in it. You carefully peeled your gown off your body and hung it on a hanger.

The gown took up a good quarter of the closet’s space from its sheer size alone, but you had a garment bag in your suitcase you could use.

Putting the gown in a garment bag and taking a bath will have to wait till tomorrow. You didn’t fight the urge to let out a yawn. Sleep. I need sleep.

You didn’t even think twice about putting on an old white t-shirt and gray sweatpants from Miguel—both oversized on you—until you stepped into the marble-tiled bathroom and glanced at your reflection in the mirror.

I sure don’t look like a princess now. You let out a chuckle before brushing your teeth.

It wasn’t until you set your tiara (you didn’t realize you were still wearing it) down on the bedside table and settled into your new bed that your mind wanted to keep you awake with various thoughts.

I’m wearing a stranger’s shirt and pants. A very handsome stranger. And I’m sleeping in his house.

Wait, that sounds wrong. You shook your head before turning to rest your head on the other side of the plush pillow.

I probably shouldn’t have asked him earlier about whether it was just him and Gabi.

I don’t want to bother Miguel any more than I already have.

Before you could let more intrusive thoughts swim in your mind, another yawn escaped from your lips.

I won’t stay here long.

I’ll figure my life out tomorrow and be out of here before we all know it…

— — — — —

The same time you drifted off into dreamland, Miguel stared up at the ceiling of his own bedroom next door.

It had been a long day for him, from almost losing Gabriella to taking in a woman who dressed up as a princess for a living.

Did I just let a stranger into my house?

Shock.

…

She won’t stay here long. We’ll be back to our own lives as soon as possible.

And with that, Miguel nodded to himself. Logically, or at least logically to him, it shouldn’t take more than a few days to find a new place for you to stay in Nueva York.

Miguel was someone who despised the unexpected—he was used to being in control so he could know what would happen next. So that his daughter could be safe. So that he could feel safe.

Gabriella randomly running away from him at the ice cream shop was unexpected. And you…you were definitely unexpected. While Gabriella liked you and you seemed like a nice enough person, a smidge of distrust for you gnawed at Miguel’s mind.

However, it was your words that bugged him more.

“I hope you sleep well.” Can’t she tell I barely get any sleep?

He let out a puff of air through his nose, only to be surprised by a yawn that followed. It wasn’t long before his eyelids began to droop.

Despite everything that happened today, little did Miguel know that he was going to get better sleep tonight than he did in ages.

🍓 Strawbetty’s notes: If you read all the way to here, Miguel gives you a 🍓 :D. I’m gonna make a separate post with more of my author’s notes on this fic later but for now I’m eepy :’)

🍓 Tag list: @allysunny, @charms-cat, @tymns, @tayleighuh, @moyo5653, @sizeablysized, @deputy-videogamer, @marvelofcourse, @flordelalunas, @thethirdyo, @sleepingghoule444, @eyes-stuff. If you would like to be added to the tag list for upcoming chapters, please comment or reblog below :)

Important:

🍓 I don’t own any of the characters I mention or write about; they belong to their original and respective creators.

🍓 All content on this blog is created by me, @thebettybook (excluding posts I reblog that aren’t my own posts and unless I state otherwise). Do not modify, claim, repost, or translate my work onto this platform and any other platform.

🍓 Reblogs are appreciated :). Want more Miguel content? Check out my masterlist.

[ladykailitha]

Not All That Glitters is Gold Part 14

I'm thinking about writing an epilogue/sequel to this because after reading the ending, I feel like I've cheated you out of something special, but the story feels like it should have ended after the rut. So let me know in the comments if you would like see the bonding and birth of their first child.

First of two chapters being posted today.

The after party. Tommy makes an appearance and Chrissy comes to rescue...well so do everyone in Stevie's corner, but especially her.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

****

The after party was buzzing with the who’s who of the industry. Producers and artists mingled with label execs and the best escorts Starcourt had to offer.

Steve had been invited to a couple of these in his time and always had fun.

Eddie was talking to this beautiful actress in a long purple and black gown. She had song on the soundtrack of her latest movie, surprising a lot of people with her vocal talents in addition to her acting.

Steve gulped down a bit of champagne to chase the bile of jealousy that he had forced back down.

“Well if it isn’t, Steve Harrington,” a cool voice said behind him.

Steve schooled his expression and turned around.

There was Tommy Hagan.

It had been a lovely couple of months where they hadn’t run into each at an event at all.

Steve smiled. “Hey, Tommy, you working a client or just the room tonight?”

When Starcourt supplied omegas to after parties like this one, they were allowed to network to get new clients. So not only were they paid well, they could bring in even more money by picking up new clients.

“He doesn’t love you, you know,” Tommy sneered. “This is all stunt to take the attention off of the fact that he fucked up with two omegas and nearly caused a scandal for the label both times.”

Steve knew that was the reason for the ‘fake dating’ contract. It was his business to know. “What’s the matter, Tommy? Upset that I get to fuck your favorite rockstar? You must have been so livid when you found out that I got invited to their charity gala and you didn’t.”

“You think you’re so special getting a million dollar cherry pop price,” Tommy snapped. “But that just means that you had to stay longer to pay it off, stupid.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Yes, and I made that my first year. I didn’t have to stay, but I know my worth, sweetie. And it is a hell of a lot more than a million dollars.”

“You’ve got your claws in him now,” Tommy hissed, “but he’ll figure out that you’re as shallow as your intelligence.”

Steve flushed and Tommy smirked, knowing he hit the mark. The one thing that Steve was always worried about and that was coming across as the dumb bunny.

“I’m not stupid,” he whispered harshly. “Just because I haven’t gone to fancy schools doesn’t mean I’m dumb.”

Tommy laughed cruelly. “Look around you, Steve. This is all you’ll ever have. All you’ll know. You’re only worth is what’s between your legs, not what’s between your ears.”

Tears stung at the corner of Steve’s eyes.

Then there was a warm arm that slid around his waist and Steve leaned into the embrace.

“You okay, baby?” Eddie murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

“Much better now that you’re here,” Steve whispered back, nuzzling the under side of his throat.

“Stevie and I were just having a little chat,” Tommy said all false smiles, “weren’t we?”

Steve pressed further into Eddie’s side.

Eddie scoffed. “I heard what you were saying, it’s why I came over.”

Tommy blanched. “What?”

“And I did not like what you said at all.” He kissed Steve soundly on the lips. “Troy and Robin are waiting for you, babe. They’ll take you somewhere where you can calm down and I’ll be right behind you, okay?”

Steve nodded and went right into the waiting arms of Robin, Troy covering Steve from behind so no one could see how upset he was.

“You’re Tommy Hagan, right?” Eddie asked, low and menacing.

Tommy nodded.

“I’ve been hearing about your supposed rivalry with Steve from a couple different people tonight.” Eddie’s tone grew even darker.

Tommy opened his mouth, but Eddie held up his hand to stop him, “And no, Steve was not one of them. From other handlers and escorts. From what I could gather, you’re pissed because he rose to the top of the company faster than you did. He’s prettier, more charming, and better at his job.”

“Think whatever you like,” Tommy scoffed. But the red flush to his cheeks belied his statement.

“And now he’s dating the lead singer of your favorite band and you are just eaten up with envy and jealousy,” Eddie continued. “So you decided to go after Steve’s intelligence knowing it was a soft spot for him. But there are different kinds of intelligence and Steve’s is all emotional. And that’s what makes him brilliant at what he does.”

“Still makes him as dumb as a rock,” Tommy hissed.

Eddie just shook his head. “I’m making a complaint against you with the agency. This is really bad behavior for a Starcourt omega and doesn’t reflect well on them.”

Then Tommy really did pale. All color drained from his face, leaving his freckles more pronounced in the absence of color on his cheeks.

Eddie just shook his head and went in search of Steve.

Troy spotted him first and waved him over to a small alcove where Robin was rubbing Steve’s back as he struggled to calm down.

Eddie knelt in front of him and began rubbing his arms. “Hey, sweetheart. Do you need to leave?”

Steve took in a deep shuddering breath and held in his a moment. “No. Tommy is an ass but I can handle it.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Eddie murmured, caressing Steve’s cheek with his thumb. “With the horrible questions, the sexist alpha, and now this asshole. You admit it affected you and we can go home.”

Steve’s lip quivered. “But what about you, don’t you have to be here?”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie said, cupping his cheeks, “I have been here. I could duck out. The rest of the band is still here as well as Benny and our producer Alexi. They could hold court if you really needed us to go right now.”

“Tommy’s already been reported to management,” Troy said, cradling his ear. “They still want Eddie to make a formal complaint, but they’re pulling Tommy out and replacing him with Chrissy Cunningham.”

Robin nodded. “Elinor and a couple other omegas who were here with actual clients had run afoul of him as well.”

Steve raised his head. “Wait, really? He’s pissed that he was only here to work the room as opposed to being with a client? Is he stupid?”

Troy raised his hand and rocked his fingers back and forth. “The jury is still out on that one.”

Eddie looked back between Troy and Steve in confusion. “I don’t understand.”

“It depends on the client,” Steve said, “but an escort can make $1000-5000 a night. But working a room, you’re paid an five grand plus the chance to pick up future clients. Alphas that aren’t there with anyone who might have an event coming up that would be improved by having an escort. Maybe their rut is coming up soon. Working a room can net an escort closer to ten to fifteen grand.”

Eddie blinked. “Holy shit. Now, I’m wondering how he could be so stupid.”

“I could answer that,” a warm female voice said behind them.

Steve looked up and grinned. “Chrissy!”

Eddie stood up and turned around to see one of the prettiest female omegas he ever seen. Her strawberry blonde hair was artfully pulled back in a wavy bun, highlighting her green eyes and dazzling smile. She wore a pink mermaid tail dress that had feathers on her hips and on the train. She held a matching clutch.

She gave Steve a hug. “I’m sorry Tommy was an douchebag tonight, cher. But I’m here now.”

Steve relaxed, the last bit of tension bleeding from his frame with her casual support.

“So why would d-bag want a client over working the room if the gains are greater working the room?” Eddie asked, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets.

He had changed, too. The tuxedo pants had been replaced by leather ones, and he wore a band tee under a leather jacket. His knee high boots gave him a little extra height on Steve even in his own heels.

Chrissy smiled up at him. “Because if you’re working the room, that means you weren’t good enough to get a client going to the Grammy’s. It’s about the prestige of being with a big name artist. And that clout can’t be bought. Steve here is going to get more requests being at Eddie’s side, then I will from working the room.”

Robin snorted. “Only because Steve’s that hot.”

Steve ducked his head to hide his blush. He really did have the best of friends.

Chrissy giggled. “There’s a little bit to that, sure. But the salient point is that Tommy is jealous because he knows that even with Eddie courting Steve, Steve is going to make a hell of a lot more money than Tommy could hope to dream of in just this year.”

“He was trying to upset the escorts on jobs so that they would leave,” Troy said, “which would free up the clients for those only working the room.”

Steve and Chrissy gave Troy an appraising eyebrow, impressed.

“Sounds about right,” Steve said. “Which means leaving would be giving in to his schemes. Plus, Chrissy is here now. That makes the party way more fun.”

Eddie held out his hand and helped Steve to his feet. “Whatever you want, princess. I am but yours to command.”

Steve wagged his eyebrows. “Something I’ll consider for tonight.”

Robin and Chrissy wolf whistled.

Troy just shook his head. With Robin in tow, Troy melded back into the crowds to keep an eye on Steve from a distance.

Chrissy was introduced to the band. Jeff was immediately smitten by her charms.

He was falling over his feet to impress her.

“Jeffy here writes our music,” Eddie told her and Steve. “I write the lyrics and he turns them into songs. Really I have the easy part. He does all the heavy lifting.”

Gareth, immediately picking up on where Eddie was going with this followed that up with, “Yeah. Which considering he boxes to stay in shape it’s really easy for him.”

“You box?” Chrissy asked, all interest. “Do you actually get in the ring or do you just go up against punching bags to prevent ruining the prettiest face of the band?”

Steve hissed at her, “You take that back! Eddie is the hottest member of the band.”

“Hottest guitarist, maybe,” Elinor huffed. “Hottest member is clearly Gareth.”

The three alphas were starting to growl when Brian stepped in. “Guys, guys. You’re all very pretty. The prettiest. Now can we move on?”

Just when everyone had calmed down, he said, “Besides we all know the best looking one in the band is me!”

His friends dogpiled him and wrestled him to the ground.

Chrissy leaned over to Steve as the four of the tussled. “Do they do this often?”

Steve just shrugged. He hadn’t had the chance to hang out with band yet.

Elinor rolled her eyes. “They are like this all the time. In a minute or so, they’ll get tired, give up and move on like nothing has happened. They’ll straighten their clothes and hair, all the better for it.”

Sure enough they did just that.

Brian looked the worst for wear considering he had been the one under attack, but nothing was torn or out of place and quite quickly they were looking like nothing had happened.

“I love these dorks,” Eddie murmured. “So, so much.”

Steve kissed his cheek. “That’s good, because I think you’re stuck with them, being in a band and all.”

Jeff giggled. “Is he stuck in here with us, or are we stuck in here with him?”

Steve tapped his lips thoughtfully. “Oh, definitely the latter.”

“Hey!” Eddie protested.

Gareth shook his head. “No, no. I’m with Steve on this one. We are definitely stuck in here with you.”

“Traitors,” he muttered darkly.

Steve nuzzled his scent gland and Eddie’s alpha purred. It took every ounce of Steve’s professionalism he had to keep the replying chirp quiet enough that only Eddie could hear.

Eddie grinned. “Just let me make the rounds one more time and then you and I will get out of here.”

Steve nodded and then watched him go. He grabbed another glass of champagne from a passing waiter and downed in one gulp.

Chrissy’s eyes went wide and she slipped her arm through his and murmured, “Come on, cher. Let’s talk, you look like you need it.”

Steve nodded and followed her outside to get some fresh air. Once there he told her all about his night and not just the Tommy fuckery.

“I was standing there already feeling jealous about the gorgeous female omega actress that he was talking to and then Tommy came in and poked at my other biggest insecurity and I just crumpled...”

Chrissy put her arm around his shoulder and laid her head on his chest.

“You’re going to have to decide if that side of his job is going to be worth it, because if you’re freaking out over him just talking to an actress,” she said gently, “how are you going to fare when he goes on tour?”

Steve sighed. It was one of the reasons that Neil never requested to court him. Being on tour all the time, the constantly being away from Steve who was very much of fixture of LA.

“I don’t know,” he admitted softly. “But he stirs something inside me that I have never felt before and it’s addicting. It feels like flying and I worry that I’ll fly too close to the sun and fall.”

“Soar anyway, Steve,” she advised him. “It’s scary and it’s new. But soar anyway. You deserve a chance at happiness, just be sure to tell Eddie when you feel this way. Because he’s not a mind reader. He can’t see what’s happening behind his back.”

Steve frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Eddie was told Tommy was harassing you,” Chrissy said. She held up her hand before Steve could say anything. “Now before you get all in your head thinking that he had to be told to come to your rescue, we both know that’s not true. But he had to be told you were in danger. Because it was happening where he couldn’t see. So you have to tell him when you’re feeling left out or jealous, because if it’s happening where he can’t see, he can’t fix it.”

Steve let out a long sigh. “Yeah, I see what you mean. If I had been more honest about the actress, Eddie would have already been by my side and maybe Tommy would have still approached or not, but probably not.”

She nodded. She turned around and saw Eddie looking for Steve. She spun Steve around and pushed him toward Eddie.

“Now go get your man.”

Steve stumbled into the venue and began moving quickly so he could reach Eddie faster.

Suddenly Eddie had an armful of soft omega.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he murmured into Steve’s ear, wrapping his arms tightly around his waist. “You ready to go home?”

“Yeah,” Steve said softly. “Take me home, Eds.”

****

Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

The confrontation with Tommy had been stewing in my head since I first starting writing the story, originally it was going to be with the Nancy and Billy at New Yorker party but there was already too much going on in that chapter so it got moved here.

Tag List CLOSED: @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @redfreckledwolf @emly03 @itsall-taken

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 ​

@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @messrs-weasley @goodolefashionedloverboi

@maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv

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@melodymeddler @mogami13 @annabanannabeth @disrespectedgoatman @manda-panda-monium

[captain039]

PART 2 Tender hearted souls

Hugh Jackman x reader

Warnings: Age gap, slow burn, feelings, hurt/comfort, two fools in love, angst, light swearing, mental health issues, daddy issues, daddy!dom/little girl, plus size reader

Previous part <-

You’re up late, staring at yourself in the mirror unhealthily. You’ve got granny panties and a plain black bra that just supports and nothing else. You like your flesh, squeeze it, curse it, love it then hate it some more. Maybe you were taking your frustration out on yourself. You feel conflicted, you won’t check your phone or social media’s knowing there will be an up roar. You’re glad you decided to create fake accounts for everything after knowing Hugh so long and being seen out with him more than ten times. You lay back on the bed and sigh legs hurting from the heels. A foot massage or full leg massage sounds so good right about now. A knock comes at your door and you’re upright within two seconds getting your dressing gown and tying it around your waist. You open the door seeing Hugh and smile.

“Heading to bed?” You ask as you let him in. He always made sure you were the one to invite him in your room, he never came in unless he asked.

“In a minute, wanted to check on you” he says a crease between his brow as you hug your dressing gown closer.

“I’m fine, promise” you say still pretending, you should’ve put some proper clothes on.

“I meant what I said up there, I know it was a bit overkill saying it to the world, but” his arm lifts up and rubs the back of his neck, something he did when he was nervous or embarrassed.

“You’ve been my rock lately, my anchor, I wouldn’t have made it here, wouldn’t have made it through the movie without you” you feel like your heart breaks. You go over to him and wrap your arms around his neck, resisting the urge to cry as he wraps his arms around your mid and nuzzles his head into your neck. You want to remove yourself from all this so it doesn’t hurt as much, but his arms, his warmth keep you there, always have.

“Well good thing I’m not going anywhere” you joke softly pulling back. You force a smile as he stares at you. Your breath gets caught at the intensity, the way he always looks at his love interests in movies, that longing look. You brush it off when his phone rings and he curses apologising before leaving.

You stare at the empty space a sigh leaving your lips before you close your door again softly and lie down in your robe, grabbing your phone. You check the news, social media, the hot gossip. Different questions a million answers on who you were, how special you were, why were you special, how Hugh knew you, why you weren’t mentioned before. It’s an endless doom scroll and you switch your phone off and almost throw it at the wall. Your phone buzzes though and you see your mums name pop up. She asks how the premier went, even though she probably read or saw the news somewhere. You tell her it went good, trying to avoid what happened. You say goodnight to her and listen to Hugh’s distant voice on the phone before closing your eyes.

You awake with a small groan, having had a horrible sleep of tossing and turning, not comfortable enough, feeling a little nausea. You want to sleep in more but your bladder demands release so you get up. You use the toilet before washing your hands and grabbing a shirt in the cupboard. You throw it on and find some pants to throw on too before heading into the kitchen. You know Hugh’s either on his run or in the home gym doing stupid gym things. They’re not stupid, you just don’t like doing them and watching Hugh just makes you more tired and a little horny than anything. You grab some cereal and milk before pouring each one into a bowl and sitting on the couch, legs crossed and half asleep. You miss your mouth the first time you try to eat and fake sob a little dramatically before getting it right. You check your phone, check the games you play on there before messaging your mum and dad good morning.

“Morning sunshine” Hugh’s voice rings out and you grumble in response to it. He chuckles a little sitting down in one of the single seats. He’s got his gym clothes on, baggy grey sweats and a grey singlet, a towel around his neck, some gross looking green smoothie in his hand. You gag at it as he takes a sip seeing him grin in response.

“It’ll wake you up, and it tastes good” he says and you raise an eyebrow.

“And I’d rather die” you state, your filter gone when you first wake up. You get a message from Blake asking how you are and you text her back saying you’re fine but a little tired. You’re supposed to go over there house for dinner tonight, a little celebration dinner for yesterday.

“Blake’s dinner is at six yeah?” You ask forgetting already.

“Yeah at six” Hugh confirms and you nod.

“Do I need a makeup artist for it?” You tease lightly.

“No, you do your makeup just fine” he says and you roll your eyes lightly his mind still in training mode.

“Yeah, yeah old man” you mumble.

“Who you calling old?” He’s got a cheeky look on his eye as he looks to you.

“Oh I don’t dunno, first name Hugh last name old man” you grin seeing his fake serious actor face.

“Oh really?” He says standing up and you can’t help but grin wider.

“I dunno Bub, I reckon I’ve got more game than you” he’s got his wolverine voice on as he comes closer. Your heart rate rises as he stalks to you while your grin falters.

“Nuh uh old man” you say as he’s suddenly on you tickling your sides. You’re glad you put the bowl down before you insulted him. You squeal and laugh trying to fight him off as you end up sideways on the couch him torturing you with his finger tips at your sides.

“Stop!” You say breathlessly as he continues relentlessly.

“Hugh! Ok! You’re not an old man” you whine and laugh out again.

“Begging for forgiveness already?” He’s grinning keeping his torture up as you squirm every which way.

“Stop! Stop! I swear, I’m sorry” you giggle in a fit as he finally stops. You let out quick breaths and laugh as he leans over you panting lightly also. You let out a small giggle wanting to tease some more but his smile falters a little eyes looking over your face.

“What?” You ask touching your fingers to your face.

“Breakfast?” You ask wondering why he’s staring at you. He’s closer now, you didn’t notice it but he’s inches away.

“Hugh?” You mutter cheeks hotter than before as he blinks.

“Sorry” he says getting up quickly and walks away down the hall to his room leaving you confused. You frown wondering if you did something, he always took your insults and teasing well and threw them back. You rest a hand on your chest catching your breath and trying to ignore how fast your hearts pounding. 

Next part ->

[stealeroflemons]

eah thing but make it FASHION aka met gala themed but I'm sunburnt and only half awake right now #30 (PART I)

SURPRISE! I'm alive and well. Mostly. I'm getting ready to leave for university so I am tireeeeed. Anyways. I know there was a lot of controversy around the met gala and that I'm extremely late in doing this, but I do want to make this post to still add some ever after high fun and to also have some fashion fun with the help of Pinterest. The theme is (with great consideration of your suggestions and of my own deliberation) "Hans Christian Dior: A Spellelebration of Fable-ous Fashion"

This mainly came from research on past met gala themed and how quite a few of them are themes after specific fashion houses or designers AND from the Thronecoming special (which is PEAK fashion in the series besides Way Too Wonderland and Spring Unsprung) where Cedar calls out Duchess for wearing a fake Hans Christian Dior dress! (note, I am trying to mainly use Christian Dior gowns/outfits for this because of the reference in Thronecoming also sorry for the blurriness)

Briar is THAT GIRL. She is flushed in hot pink looking gorgeous with about every inch of her glittering with body shimmer, glitter hairspray, and shiny shiny jewels. I like to think that instead of the gold detailing in the pictures it would be silver and that the closer embellishments would be rose detailing to honor her usual aesthetic and legacy

Faybelle is serving every bit of whimsy and darkness. Her accessories and the layers of her dress and even her hair seem to be alive with lightning crackling around. Her wings are extra pretty and equally terrifying with silver thorn adornments that are magically light enough to not weigh her down

Ashlynn's look was partially inspired by Lady Tremaine's silhouettes in the lie action Cinderella while still maintaining the color palette of her usual outfits. Her look combines the beauty of the enchanted forest and foliage and the classy, fine china patterns you'd see in a royal palace. She is absolutely radiant and of course while walking up the steps of the Met, she loses a slipper ;)

Duchess has taken a slightly different approach to her usual fluffy-tulle outfits and gone for more of a paper swan look. The sharp angles provide a dangerous look to her, contrasting the soft purple accents and the feather headpieces she wears. She seems to float on air and she walks through the crowds of people in her gown, a true picture of elegance and grace with a touch of darkness to her

The one and only Apple White is DRAMATIC. HUGE HAIR. BOLD RED MAKEUP. EXTREME DRESS SILHOUETTE. THE MOST ROYAL JEWELRY YOU CAN FIND. She looks like something out of an editorial magazine on royalty. This entire look is a more elevated look of her daily wear, and she wears it with grace and sophistication

Darling looks so DARLING! I do think the gold on the dress would be swapped out for silver and that the pearls would be more pink-y toned so it would match the jewels in your basic outfit (same with other accessories). She's sticking with the sort of rococo hair that she usually has because it's iconic let's be honest. I was debating on giving her a more armored look but for this I wanted to embrace her softer and delicate look

Rosabella looks like a French aristocrat from an old Hollywood movie in my mind for an event like this. Nevertheless any fur details are faux, after all our girl is still an animal activist (slay queen). I think the dusty gold-brown tone of the dress with the deep red accents and jewelry pays a nice homage to not only her day to day look but to Belle's iconic yellow dress. I also feel like her and Briar would contrast well because Briar is very bright and vibrant in her look and Rosabella is more muted and understated which I like a lot

anways I'll make a part 2 eventually, I have all the collages made I just need to create a post and write descriptions. But for now I'm gonna go back to packing and planning for uni and I'll get back to y'all when I can (and hopefully my fanfictions, who now haunt me in my dreams)

[galaxygolfergirl]

And we’re back folks! With another batch of rough fan art featuring Queen Anna and powerless Elsa this time.

For this design for Anna, I noticed another post that some people didn’t feel that her regal gown from the epilogue in Frozen 2 really fit her style, so I tried to emulate the colors and rosemaling from her coronation dress in the first movie, while also keeping a sense of maturity in this look having grown into this role. She’s not as impulsive or fiesty anymore, now tempered with responsibilities but still conveys her warmth and compassion as a competent ruler. Still, in comparison with her sister, she is not without her insecurities, as running a country doesn’t come without a fair amount of stress, which she hides from Elsa out of fear of not being good enough.

Now as for Elsa losing her powers, I’m sure a lot of people have hypothesized about if she had an adversesary that could wield fire powers. I have made concept art of that before in the past, but I want to try and draw that digitally first before I show you guys. In this instance, I would imagine that Elsa has faced off against this adversary, and lost, and that enemy has weakened her powers to a state where she is unable to manipulate snow and ice and thus it dramatically alters her appearance. Her hair turns brown, like her mother’s, the clothes that she fashioned for herself would lose their icy appearance and revert to normal civilian clothes (or at worst, disappear, making for an awkward scenario), and the loss makes her weak and sick. She would have to learn how to rehabilitate herself for the next round in the story, but this change would almost certainly traumatize her since she’s just learned how to accept herself and her powers.

Lastly, with my idea for Hans to return in this story, I can’t imagine that Anna would be all that enthusiastic about seeing him again. My idea is that he has some insider information about the adversary that they’re facing in the story, whether it be the Southern Isles, or this fire wielding villain that Elsa loses against, they somehow have to rely on him for assistance. His motivations could be entirely selfish, “merely an enemy of my enemy is my friend situation” and he only agrees to help to stick it to this adversary (probably the Southern Isles). Nonetheless, it would make for some interesting dialogue and dynamics to see how they would react to each other.

Now, like I said, this is all hypothetical. This is more fanfiction and fanart than anything else, you don’t have to agree with it, but this is just a fun exercise in thinking what could happen in the next two movies. I hope you enjoy what I’ve done. Kristoff is coming up next!

[anyasivy]

When You Know, You Know - Leonora Lesso x Fem!Reader

"The sky's beautiful." you said.

Leonora Lesso replied with, "I know." staring right at you, drinking in just how the night sky's beauty compared to nothing from you.

warning: i wrote this at 2 am so PLEASE ignore the grammatical errors because on top of that, english is not my first language and i honestly write what sounds best in my head lmfaooooo. this is also based on movie sfgae too.

tags: second chances, light angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

A Reader. Nevers would pick on you and some Evers would be ashamed to be in the same space as you. But nevertheless, you never gave up. You had made it through most of the years... barely. But the thing is, you were graduating and about to embark on a journey worthy of heroes. Well, that until you met a new teacher from the School for Evil during the opening day. Lady Lesso. You eventually found out she'd taught Curses and Deathtraps to Nevers. The thought of falling into one made you shiver, and you made sure since then to never be in the same space as her students. She was a meticulous woman, you observed. From afar, she was almost not intimidating. Her movements were firm and confident. Every flick of her hand, every step and stride, every look— it screamed of fearless. She was, in a way you wouldn't dare admit then, beautiful. Your mind reasoned she was evil, and therefore undeserving of that description. But who could look at Lady Lesso and think of her as anything than? She had the features of a goddess, a beauty that begged to be loved, and a soul that invited affection. You reveled in it, in her, that you hadn't realized you had been staring too much. One day, she pinned you against the wall and demanded to stop your madness.

That had changed it all.

You snapped yourself out of it, your hands holding the invitation the school had sent. Or by the looks of it, schools. You heard what had happened recently, and you thanked the heavens you had graduated already. Rafal? Blood magic? Oh yes, definitely grateful you weren't there to deal with that.

Tonight was the night you'd come back, and you looked momentarily at the gown you had picked. The ballgown was violet, which was the first thing that captured your eyes along with its threaded silk flowers down the bodice. It fit perfectly on your waist and had off-the-shoulder straps. It left your collarbone and cleavage bare. You would wear a necklace and black heels to compliment it. And as you look at your gown, you think of how you're supposed to be excited and stuff. A part of you is... kind of... but you were mostly nervous.

You don't wanna know why. You need not to. And there was no way in hell you'd acknowledge it.

"I apologize," her heels were the first to have entered your view as you hunched over your desk, studying. The sound of rustling and her coat falling on your bed made your heart thump over and over relentlessly against your chest. You try to remember the events of today, making sure you aren't going to let Leonora Lesso off the hook so easily. "It's an exercise getting rid of habits."

You scoff at this. "Habits, you say, when what you did was evil."

"I wonder why," she says ever so smugly, but there is a trace of hesitation in her voice. A fragility that suggests caution and care. You don't dwell on it. Not wanting to.

Flipping to the next page deemed unnecessary as words float above your head. All your senses concentrated on the woman who seemed to sit comfortably atop your dorm bed. You resist the temptation to look in her direction. A second of gazing into her limitless amethyst eyes and you'd lose this fight. Useless it may seem, but it was a big step for you. An instance to remind yourself of your own worth.

The flipping of pages must've rang annoyingly in Lesso's ears because she clears her throat. A testimony to the arising irritation she's been keeping off. "I apologize," she says more firmly than the one she came in with. You remained silent. "Truly, this time. I have no excuses for letting my students perform the prank." She had graded them, too. Shouting a significant 'you passed!' across the room with a hint of amusement not of you, but of her students' stunt. You repeated the scenario over and over in your head, hoping it'd motivate you to keep up the upper hand.

You hear Lesso move. The click, click of her heels matched the fast beating of your stupid heart pounding eagerly.

"Do you want me to beg? Get on my knees for your apology? Because you and I are fully aware of my incapability to surrender to Good."

You snapped. "Lesso." a triumphant smirk formed on her lips. It disappeared a moment after as she circles your desk, now presenting herself in front of you. Her scent fills the space you felt protected in, and for an instant, you could feel your walls of bricks shattering.

"Perhaps I should, then. With that look you're giving me." Leonora tilts her head, hoping for more words to spill out of those pretty lips of yours. She'd kissed them millions of times, but if it took giving up her whole identity to kiss them again, she'd strip herself nameless. "[Y/N], my love. What will it take for you to forgive me?"

You shivered as she spoke. She knew just how to get you, both with her words and her eyes. That expression of hers. The vulnerability of it all. Leonora Lesso promised a wonder that she swore only you could ever reside. So it wasn't a surprise when you got up and pulled her in for a kiss, quick and soft. A promise itself, too. A forgiveness of something shallow to some.

"You are an asshole."

"We have established that to be a compliment."

The School for Good was as grand as ever. As beautiful, too. You looked over the lake and recalled the lessons you had dozed off in that place. The wind and the soft sound of water made it too relaxing for you to behave like anything but an Ever. You continued up the stairs along with other heroes and their partners. The engagement ring you had shone bright like a mark of property you wanted to resist. You wonder if you should've brought your partner like the rest. But then again, you weren't for semantics when it came to the person you wanted to marry for functionality and formality.

The door was wide open for guests, and as you walked further into, you realized there wasn't anything much that changed. The same halls, walls, and designs. The longing in your chest made you want to go back home, away from this place and reminders of who you used to be--- who you used to be with.

You wonder if she's here. If anything had changed about her, or if she stayed the same, too. Evil and cunning. Yours. The bitter taste of how things ended clouded your mind. The cheery guests and welcomes of students in the Theatre of Tales thankfully distracted you from that.

Surprisingly, the floor was full of both Evers and Nevers mingling. There were those who looked disdained as if the Evilness and Goodness of their souls forbade them from interacting with the opposite side. But then there were those who giggled and laughed with each other, almost intimately. The scene before you caused an overwhelming grief. You pushed it forcibly down and started off as you spotted Professor Dovey.

She gives you a look-over like she wants to remember you, and not a second passes before melts in her knees. "Oh, you child!" she ran to you and wrapped an arm, the other too busy keeping the drink she was holding from spilling. "You have grown!"

"Thankfully," you cheered, beaming at the sight of her. "You look nice. Professor Anemone stopped giving you a hard time?"

"Quite the opposite. Everyone, really. The stress of the events and changes-- oh, it's like Christmas and Halloween collided here and urged a holiday of itself." Professor Dovey groans. "But all's well that ends well."

"Yikes." you flash a sheepish smile and glance over the ball, spotting someone with yellow hair reminding a student to smile brighter. You chuckle, looking back at the Professor before you.

"Mhm. Oh. And--"

"Please, Professor." you cut off. The sudden change in her tone, the small whisper and the softness of it obviously led to the territory you've been avoiding all morning.

Dovey sighed, "All right," her shoulder slumped and her eyes darted around across and behind the place before she was sure to speak again. "I don't wanna spoil your surprise."

"Surprise?"

"She's changed, [Y/N]."

"Surprising."

She chuckles softly, almost with pity. Dovey places a gentle hand on your arm and squeezes it. "How about we go get drinks before you meet the rest of the night?"

The end was nearer than you expected. It was coming fast and keen. Surely. You've been keeping your mind off it, finding solace in the moments of now, and not of the future. You question from time to time your insanity and the way to keep it intact should anything unforeseeable happen. Losing her, to be precise. But she's been quiet about it, and the often change of topic when the mention of your graduation is said clues you just how much she's been keeping her mind off it, too. So here you were in the night, sitting on an alcove, and gazing at the stars from your window. The night sky promised such peacefulness. The darkness and the silence radiated comfort you'd almost forgotten the stakes. The meanings. The possibilities. You hug your knees to your chest, feeling defensive of what was yours. What is yours. What should be yours tomorrow and the days after.

The door creaked open.

"You should be sleeping," her voice echoed from the door, and you felt your heart breaking at the unpredictability it held.

You gulp down the ache, hoping your voice didn't come out shaky, "Punish me for it, then." your humor earns a soft chuckle from the woman you loved, and she walks closer to where you were sitting. She opted for the bed instead of beside you.

"Is everything well?" the question shouldn't be hard to answer. The days when you cried about exams and the fear of failing, and she caught you, were far better than the moment right now. You'd rather endure repeating the year if you were given the choice to. It all seemed so simple then.

"The sky's beautiful," you said instead, your eyes never leaving the view before you.

Leonora Lesso replied with, "I know." staring right at you, drinking in just how the night sky's beauty compared to nothing from you. You were... so much more. Your beauty yielded of tremendous unknown that no words could ever amount to describe you. You had her soul, heart, and body. And she didn't mind. Not a single of it.

"What you said earlier," Lesso's mind blanked and her heart froze at the reminder. "I can't say it. I won't ever."

You hear her take a deep breath, it shakes. You finally look at her. And the thoughts of running away with Leonora Lesso didn't seem mad anymore.

"Time will come." was all she said, but her expression betrayed the strength of her voice.

"I won't let it come. If that's what it takes." your voice had gone small, and your feet dragged you beside Lesso. You take her hand with yours and entangle your fingers. You can't let go. Would rather die than be able to. "I can survive Trial by Tales--"

"No. No. We agreed on this. We won't ever." she grips your hand tighter. Desperate. "Evil and Good don't belong together."

And there it is. The string keeping your heart from breaking snaps, and you had fallen into pieces before her. Tears welled up in your eyes as you shifted closer. You leaned in, hoping to find some insincerity in her eyes. A facade. Because this had to be a joke, a cruel joke. And you'd rather she admit it was and forgive her for being evil than for it being true.

"Leonora, that is not true. You and I both know we belong together. This cannot just stay like this. I don't want us to be just a memory." You begged, holding her hands as if she'd slip through any time.

She would.

"It won't just be a memory for me if it's any consolation, my love."

"I can't deny you."

As the moon passed by the clouds, the moonlight shone right over Lesso's face. Her cheeks glistened with the tears that had fallen. You reached to wipe them, but she had stopped and held your hand before she could. A denial.

"Then it's best if I do."

Professor Anemone had flashed the warmest and the perfect smile as she approached you. The pressure builds up in your breath as you try to imitate. You reminded yourself how foolish it was to think you could still fail at her class, but you were nervous as you smiled, anyway. The Professor hadn't commented on it and instead initiated a quick hug.

"Well, if it isn't our lovely [Y/N]. I'd never admit that before," she raises a playful eyebrow and clinks it with yours and Dovey's. "but you certainly have grown. Engaged, I heard." you start thinking if she had heard of it, too.

Professor Dovey snapped her head in your direction at this, obviously taken aback. You wouldn't blame her. It wasn't something you'd do a year ago. "Engaged?"

You hold out your right hand, and despite having done this a couple of times, the action cringes you as they stare at the beautiful ring. "I meant to tell."

"It's beautiful..." Professor Anemone blinks, "But."

"She'd rather not talk about it." Professor Dovey interrupts, and you smile reassuringly at both of them. "I am glad you're engaged and set to a wonderful, fairytale life, dear."

Your smile tightened. A wonderful, fairytale life you had envisioned before had been different, and beautifully so. The thought of it makes you want to choke. It had been a long time since that dream came across your mind, but the effect lingered the same. The longing and the pain tore through your heart, still. You wanted to excuse yourself then and there when a certain woman walked over the small circle of you and the two Professors.

"You came,"

All the air in your lungs escaped. And so did Anemone and Dovey.

Leonora Lesso stood tall, her heels bothering her feet like always, and dressed in an all-black outfit appropriate for Never Professors, looking as Evil and as beautiful as ever. A wonder. And still, still, she took your breath away.

"You came, too." was all your stupid mouth could say, your eyes fixed on her amethyst ones. Limitless, you'd describe it then. And you were right even after all these years.

"It's kind of mandatory." she humored, and you smiled, and she forgot to breathe as well. It's insane, she thinks, of how you were still able to do this to her. To have this kind of hold after everything.

When Leonora thought she was on the brink of death, her life flashed before her eyes, and she saw you. Your eyes. Your smile. She felt you. Your soft hands. Your touch. You.

Silence fell, awkward silence. And you had shifted your gaze from her eyes to the ground, afraid of letting too much of your emotions fall out. You wonder if she was at all feeling the same.

"Professor Dovey said you changed. A surprise, she claims." you start, hoping it'd suffice for a conversation.

"Dovey says a lot of things."

"I know."

"I should say the same for you." she watched your ring, and you followed suit. You felt almost defensive of your actions when you realized. "I say congratulations are in order."

You gulp the lump in your throat, "You don't have to."

"Congratulations, [Y/N]."

You crumbled. Lesso's face was void of anything but hurt. For a second, you were sure tears formed in the corners of her eyes, and you struggled not to pull her into your arms like before. Why can't this just be like before?

"It's for formality. I don't love him. It's not like that." you quickly blabbered, breathing heavily. "I... shit. Just..." and without warning, you took her by arm and electricity flowed through your skin. You try not to focus on the fact that this has been the first time you touched her in years as you drag the both of you to your secret spot. A surreptitious place that felt like it was built solely for the two of you. When you arrived, a breath you didn't know you were holding was still stuck in your throat. You pull your hand away.

Leonora stands a few feet away, maintaining a distance to keep herself from running up to you and having you be hers again.

"You look beautiful tonight."

"Stop,"

"[Y/N], I apologize--"

"No. Stop,"

"Please, just--"

"You denied me!" all the pain throughout the years, the hurt that had grown over time and had been forgotten, and the frustration, came out trembling. The tears you refrained from falling fell free. Leonora Lesso has always been your ruin. "You denied me, Leonora. I told you I love you and I wanted to fight for you. That--that this fucking Good versus Evil bullshit was nothing compared to what we had-- what we have-- that it was greater than anything withstanding us! And you denied me."

The moonlight shone just like that night. You see Leonora's eyebrows furrowed, and it only took you a second to realize she was crying, too. Her red hair, longer now, had cascaded just above her shoulder. And you ached to brush your fingers on it.

"I love you." she steps closer.

"No."

"I love you so much." and closer.

"Leonora--"

"I love you, [Y/N]."

And you admit defeat. Just like before. You meet her halfway and wrap your arms around her neck as you pull her in for a kiss. Heavens, her lips. Her kiss. Her hands find its usual place on your waist. The feel of her pressed up. The brush of her nose. You could die. It all seemed to fit so perfectly. Like two puzzles. Like two fated people meant to be each other's.

The moment she pulls away, you sniffle, tears still flowing. She chuckles at the sight of you, wiping your tears away with her thumb. You lean into the touch. "You are the best thing in my life and I was a fool to let you go. To ever believe those things I've said, to even imply them. I was the greatest fool ever. But I can't live this life, [Y/N], not without you. I can't live with knowing I had you and set you free. I cannot."

"I love you, too, you dumbass."

Leonora smiles, and your heart swells with so much love. The sound of your diamond ring falling to the ground cracks a smile in you, and Lesso brushes her nose against yours. You inhale her scent. Unchanging. Just like this unwavering love between the two of you. You press your lips against hers again, feeling at home within her arms.

"Deny me again and I'll kill you, you hear me?"

"And to think you graduated School for Good."

the end.

-

any grammatical errors and typos will be changed in the morning because wtf it's 3 am I AM TIRED. SUFFER FOR A LITTLE. GOOD NIGHT.

[tired-teacher-blog]

Late night surprise

Characters : Aizawa/ Fem reader

Warnings and Genre : NSFW/ 18+/ Somnophilia (consensual)/ Oral (fem receiving/ Pussy drunk!Aizawa/ Fingering/ Breast play/ One Shot

Notes : This is something that I've been talking about with my bestie @aizawas-non-right-foot 😍 Banner by : @/cafekitsune

Masterlist|Second Masterlist

Part 2

It has been a while— three weeks and five days to be exact, since you were able to spend a quiet evening with your boyfriend. Your schedules have been extremely hectic lately, and his night shifts have become reoccurring for the past few days, leaving you even less time together.

You miss him a lot, and lately, even the frequent calls and voice mails have become insufficient. You want to spend some quality time with him, cuddled up in bed together while watching a movie, or having a pleasant conversation and catching up with one another over dinner, as opposed to eating alone and going straight to an empty cold bed.

When was the last time you woke up in his arms? And how long has it been since you were.. intimate with one another?

Three weeks and five days, that's how long it's been.

_ "Really! You're coming home early today?" your heart almost leapt with joy when you heard a soft 'yes honey' on the other end of the line.

Finally, you will have the whole night to yourselves.

You run around the house like a maniac, fixing dinner, setting the ambiance and taking a quick shower before slipping into something that seemed to always make him lose his mind.

Your luscious curves are gleaming in the mirror as you observe the sexy night gown barely covering your pantiless bum and falling perfectly over your soft skin, "I'm ready."

You check your phone and sigh with relief as your preparations have been completed on time, only a few more minutes until hearing the door click and seeing his beautiful frame stepping into the apartment.

The anticipated few minutes turned into an hour and then another, your delectable dinner is now nothing but a cold lumpy mush, and your cheerful smile is nowhere to be found.

You plop onto your cold empty bed and reach for your phone again, sighing miserably as your eyes scan his latest text once more :

"I'm so sorry honey but something came up, looks like I'll be home late after all."

You're too exhausted to think straight or even move a muscle, your plans have gone to waste after careful preparations, so you need to get your ass up and clean the dining table before succumbing to sleep, not to mention removing the needless night gown that's making you feel stupid at this point.

You need to get up, but your mind is foggy and your head feels heavy on your fluffy pillow, still, you have to put away the food and get changed first.

You have to..

.. have to..

Something feels warm and, wet? A strange yet familiar sensation is spreading throughout your whole body, but what exactly is it? Last thing you can remember was moping about your ruined plans while struggling to fight off sleep, so what happened after that?

_ "Fuck, I can't believe I had to miss this after being forced into a second shift."

You recognize this voice, this growl, but where is it coming from? You're asleep right? Then it must be a dream..

_ "I'm so sorry for being late princess, so let me make it up to you huh?"

There it is again, that same recognizable voice.

_ "Shouta.." this dream, this sensation, it all feels too realistic.

_ "Yes honey I'm right here."

Your eyes flutter open and your body jerks in surprise as you clearly hear it this time, it's not a dream is it?

_ "Shouta, what are you.. oh God!" you tilt your head back and arch off the bed as you feel it deeper, his warm fat tongue, licking its way into your slick walls.

You are still in a haze, your vision is blurry and your brain is foggy, but your body is reacting on its own. You reach out a shaky hand and grab onto his raven locks, pushing his face deeper against you.

This isn't an unusual occurrence, you can't remember how many times you have awoken to find his lips or fingers latched onto you, and it's a favor that you have eagerly paid back many times in return.

The pleasure your man is giving you seems more intense than usual, it has been a while after all.

_ "Fuck I missed you gorgeous.." his words are mixed with obscene slurping noises and satisfied hums that vibrate into your core, he seems out of it, needy and desperate while lapping up your cute love bud and nibbling on the surrounding swollen lips like a bear clinging to a honey tree.

Your heavy eyes travel downward to steal a glimpse of the man doing wonders for you, and you whimper as you're faced with an arousing sight that almost gets you spasming violently with intense pleasure.

It's exhilarating, your boyfriend is still in his work attire, filthy sweaty and disheveled, and it looks like burying his face between your legs was the first thing he thought of doing after walking into the house.

You can't help gawking at him, propping yourself up on quivering elbows to have a better view of your beloved, and biting down on your lip as a knot starts to form in the pit of your belly.

He is beautiful, with his flushed skin and focused eyes staring back at you, and his soft hair falling perfectly around his face and neck to tickle your sensitive skin with every little move he's making.

His calloused hands release your thighs to slide along your sides, bringing your night gown further up and revealing more of your flesh to him.

_ "You dare fall asleep while wearing this instead of waiting for me? You're a bad girl." his playful words are groaned against your weeping cunt, and your legs instinctively squeeze him tight between them.

_ "Stop talking! Please don't talk with that in your mouth!" your cute little outburst brings a throaty chuckle out of the man who insists on feigning ignorance.

_ "Why's that? Why can't I speak while pleasuring my princess?" his purrs send a shudder deep inside of you.

This bastard knows his effect on you, he loves tormenting you, seeing you helpless underneath him, and he succeeds in making his wish come true every single time.

Your arms give out and your back hits the mattress again, you can no longer see his face but the feeling of his eager mouth is driving you mad.

His hands move under your silky night gown to grope your mounds, thumbs brushing over your perky nipples while his tongue fucks you deep and slow.

You're not going to last much longer at this rate, your heart is pounding harshly in your chest, and your whimpers are getting louder and needier by the second, "keep going! Please! Just a bit more!" your shameless demands are well received, as he humms with delight and keeps on thrusting his tongue deeper within you.

His fingers carry on massaging your soft breasts, kneading your flesh and pinching your perky teats teasingly before one of his large hands runs down your body and rests on your lower belly.

You know what this means, though you're not sure if your body will be able to handle any anymore of his taunting behavior, you've just about reached your limit.

_ "Shouta, I'm so close.."

He retracts his tongue and kisses your clit before rubbing two fingers along your wetness to slowly ease them past your welcoming slit.

Your mouth falls open but nothing comes out of it, your breath gets caught in your throat and your body twists under his brute dominance as his fingers take control.

You're a wreck, shattering a little bit more each second that passes, and he loves it.

His lips kiss along your inner thighs, and his fingers curl up and stroke that one particular sweet spot he knows all too well.

_ "No wait.. wait! It's too.. too much!" you finally find your voice, crying out a warning but only a moment before giving in to a splintering orgasm, shuddering uncontrollably and coating the fingers still moving inside of you before relaxing at last.

_ "That's my girl, you've done a good job sweetheart." he cooes sweetly while trailing a few soft kisses along your sensitive cunt, "so how's my princess feeling?"

_ "Perfect.." you breathe out drowsily, a satisfied smile adorning your face.

He carefully licks you clean, attentive as to not overstimulate you while flicking his tongue up and down on your throbbing clit, "fuck.. what a treat."

You giggle happily and reach out for him to get closer, your blush deepening as you notice his reddening lips and glistening chin, proof of what he has just done for you.

_ "I'm sorry for missing our date love, but I promise to make it up to you tomorrow." he looks apologetic as he speaks, and you can't help the giggles escaping your throat, he is truly adorable.

_ "But I don't want to wait until tomorrow, so how about taking a shower together right now and see what happens?" you request suggestively, sneaking a hand between your bodies and pressing it against his raging stiffness.

_ "Oh I'd love that even more."

[marzipanandminutiae]

Rating the Femme en Noir Crimson Peak collection when I should be going to bed (it's not ALL critical, actually!)

no judgment at all to people who like the collection. nothing can achieve higher than a 7/10 because it's all synthetic. let's get into it

Edith Victorian Gown in Ivory

...yeah! that's basically Edith's nightgown copied exactly, so it's a 7/10 from me

2. Lady Lucille Victorian Dress With Capelet In Teal

What. um. What does this have to do with anything Lucille wears? It's blue velvet and it's a dress; there the similarities end. Why is there a ruffly capelet? That's something Edith wears, not Lucille. Why are there leg-o-mutton sleeves? Why is there no trim whatsoever? (that last is to become a running theme.) 3/10.

3. Allerdale Moth Wallpaper Babydoll Dress in Olive

There's a longer version, and were it a natural fabric, I'd be tempted to buy it and alter it into a blouse and over-skirt or something. This one is honestly pretty cute, though I forget what part of the house this wallpaper appears in. 7/10.

4. Edith Victorian Knit Cardigan in Olive

I get that they want to modernize these things for their target audience, but the original being SO much more fitted and sumptuous-looking just makes this one look sad. It's like Wish.com Edith. 5/10 for at least keeping the little velvet pumpkins.

5. Ghost Shoulder Bag

If this were leather, I would buy it. Not a huge fan of Margaret being the ghost on the front, though- I feel like Enola or Eleanor would be more photogenic. Poor Margaret. 6/10 though they're lucky I don't take points off for calling it "vegan leather" in the description. Be honest- it's plastic.

6. Belladonna Maxi Dress in Crimson Red

This is just an existing product of theirs But In Red. Pretty, but 4/10 for lack of effort.

7. Lady Mourning Victorian Gown in Black

It's the nightgown in black with a sash. Try harder. 3/10 and I'm skipping any color repeats labeled as different dresses from here on out.

8. Mourning Victorian Bonnet in Black

You know what? Yeah. Sure! That's a cute bonnet. Good job. 7/10.

9. Lace Mourning Scarf Veil in Black.

You can get a yard of nylon chantilly lace for less than $28, pretty as this looks. 5/10.

10. Victorian Cycling Pullover Sweater in Black

I mean. I guess. What does this have to do with Crimson Peak, exactly? Why is "Lucille" wearing puffed sleeves when, again, her clothing being tight has so much character logic behind it? It's a mystery. 5/10.

11. Victorian Velvet Bustle Skirt in Black

This didn't photograph well, but it appears to have some cool pleat details. I don't like 19th-century skirts getting shortened, but that's more a matter of personal preference than reaction to movie inspiration or lack thereof. 6/10.

12. Taffeta Edwardian Blouse in Marigold

This comes in multiple colors, but I picked the marigold because it illustrates that Wish.com effect once again.

The OG bodice from the movie that they're clearly trying to evoke. It has DETAIL! it has TRIM! It has LUSH FABRIC! And obviously you can't do that with a mass-produced piece, but ye gods, why would you set yourself up for failure by trying? If they hadn't gone for the look of a specific movie costume, their blouse wouldn't look disappointing by comparison. 5/10

13. Wicker Tilt Hat With Black Veil

Once again I feel they shot themselves in the foot here. It's cute! But it suffers by trying to be something that was better in the movie.

Not great by comparison; it's TOO close without going all the way. 6/10 because it is cute, though.

[skipped a bunch more veils and some lace mitts, which were cute but have nothing to do with How Well Or Poorly The CPeak Inspiration Was Executed In My Opinion]

14. Victorian Hands Belt in Silver

THIS IS NOT THE CRIMSON PEAK HAND BELT. THIS IS NOT EVEN TRYING TO BE THE CRIMSON PEAK HAND BELT. DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS IS?

IT IS THIS 1970S BELT- WHICH, LIKE THE ONE IN THE MOVIE, IS NOT BASED ON ANY VICTORIAN ORIGINAL THAT I'M AWARE OF -THAT HAS BEEN COPIED 50000 TIMES. DO YOURSELF A FAVOR AND WAIT FOR CUTTLE AND BONE TO HAVE ANOTHER PREORDER OF ACTUAL CPEAK HAND BELTS. 0/10.

Conclusion: Not all bad, but I feel like I actually would have gone in a more modern direction with the resources and limitations of this collection. You're never going to be as good as the movie costumes at their own game, not with mass-manufactured pieces. So why set yourself up for failure? Bringing the characters, themes, and motifs to a yet-unexplored time and place (with some Victwardian touches, of course!) seems like it would have been a better way to go about this, IMO.

Also stop being allergic to trim when you're taking inspiration from a movie with oodles of passementerie and beadwork and lace all over everything.

5/10 overall.

[nevermorgue]

Nevermore Hollywood AU Part 2

2004, LA Annabel Lee Whitlock is a well known actress known for historical dramas and romances. She always goes viral when she's spotted at an event or a party because of her fashion choices. She always dresses straight out of period dramas with long gowns and intricately crafted gloves and fans. It is as if she were stepping right out of her films and into present day. She does this in fear of being cared about less as a normal person. By being kept on a parasocial pedestal, she ensures that she is always seen as a perfect, elegant actress. She is signed under Spectral Talent, a very prestigious talent + modelling agency with a small talent pool of important, famous names.

Lenore is an actress that was known for always starring in Theo Vandernacht productions. After his sudden passing two years ago, she resorted to doing quite literally everything else but acting. She has done screenwriting, producing, modelling, and even dabbled in camera work. But last year, Lenore Vandernacht left the spotlight permanently. Some say she snuck off to a tropical island to live out an early retirement. Others say she died. In reality, she has just decided to start over under the alias "Leo Vandernacht". She decides to break back into the industry (at her + Theo's old company, Nevermore Co.) as a talented writer and director, hoping to continue her brother's projects that only the two of them ever knew about. Lenore and Annabel meet through the casting for Leo's directorial/writer debut; a period piece with supernatural elements simply called "The Raven". It was Theo's story that he started and never really got to expand on. Nobody was really all that interested until Annabel Lee expressed public interest in auditioning. And from the moment they locked eyes for the first time, they both knew that it were as if they were destined to meet in that audition room. Pluto: An intern that JUST graduated internship and is now a gaffer. Has really nothing else going for him, spends ALL DAY on set if allowed, just doing whatever needs to be dealt with. He really wants to eventually become the assistant art director for Nevermore Co. Duke: Another famous actor, definitely not as easily recognized as Annabel Lee but still VERY well known. He rose to fame after appearing on an AGT-esque show in which he did incredible magic and illusion tricks. He ended up launching a career after that, traveling to perform as well as making cameos in movies and television. These cameos are how he ended up meeting and working alongside Annabel Lee at one point. They dislike each other greatly, but their on screen platonic chemistry is VERY well received. Knew Lenore before her 'retirement' is one of the few people who knows that Leo and Lenore are the same. He's done some modelling and small roles with her (before Theo's passing), despite not being signed under Nevermore Co. His agency, Magie, is a close partner to them and like to share their talent pool. This is how he knows Pluto as well. PART ONE (Prospero, Will)