#Grand Public C

[skitskatdacat63]

2023 Qatar Grand Prix - Podium - Oscar Piastri

[frostedmagnolias]

Dress

c. 1900

Grand Rapids Public Museum

[nyankochan]

Your Majesty

Synopsis: your doting husband is willing to indulge in all of your deepest fantasies. Even the ones you're embarrassed to admit

Content: king!malleus x wife!reader, afab!reader, semi public sex in the throne room, switch!malleus, oral fem!receiving, rough sex, multiple orgasms, breeding kink if you squint, Malleus is literally the sweetest husband that worships the ground you walk on

W/c: 2.3K

“I don’t believe that I heard you correctly, my love. Can you please repeat what you said?”

You could feel your face burning, growing hotter from embarrassment under your husband’s amused expression. He waits patiently for your rebuttal, a smile gracing his elegant features while you seem to shrink under his stare.

“Y-you heard what I said!” You stubbornly reply, not wanting to directly repeat the embarrassing request of yours.

Bemused, Malleus stands, walking around his desk that had piles of paperwork sitting on it, which now took little precedence for the needs of his lovely wife were always his first priority. You still refused to look at him, even when he approached.

“Now, what ever are you being bashful for?” Malleus teased. He brushed a strand of hair from your face, deepening the flush of your cheeks. His touch tickled and made your chest flutter. When you still wouldn’t respond, a brief frown crossed his face. The next thing you knew, the two of you were transported to a new room.

“W-wait what?” Your vision blurred from disorientation. You stumbled forward into Malleus’s chest, the fae holding you steady so you could gather your bearings.

You were now in the throne room.

The room always intimidated you. The long stretch of deep black carpet leading from the grand archway entrance to the gothic throne seemed to run for miles. Accents of green and hints of grey were the only flashes of color outside of muted shades of black. And granite carvings of gargoyles kept a watchful eye on the currently empty room.

“Mal, why are we here?” You ask.

Malleus takes your hand, gently guiding you towards the throne. He then gestures for you to sit. At your hesitation, he smiles. “Sit, dear.”

“B-but this is not my throne.”

“As the queen that rules beside me, this throne is equally yours as it is mine,” Malleus says, coaxing you to finally take a seat. “and no one shall tell you otherwise.”

The throne is cold to the touch. It’s much too large for you, so your smaller frame barely fills up the space. Your arms settle somewhat uncomfortably on the armrests as your heart begins to race.

“A beautiful ruler indeed,” Malleus muses. Despite how nervous you looked, you were as regal as ever in his eyes. The way your black gown hugged around your hips, the sheer sleeves teasing your smooth skin. And Malleus’s gaze couldn’t help but wander down the dipping neckline, not quite plunging, but still deep enough to be considered revealing. “You’re bsolutely stunning, my love.”

Your breath hitches.

The Malleus Draconia drops to his knees before you.

His hands trace down your waist and over your thighs, making you shiver. He bunches up the end of your gown, pressing a kiss against your bare knee. His green irises flicker with adoration as he looks up at you.

“I could worship you all day, Your Majesty.”

Your throat feels dry. “M-malleus, p-please touch me.”

A glimmer of wickedness flashes within his eyes and then he smiles. “As you wish, Your Majesty.”

Malleus rolls your dress up to your hips then drags your lacy panties down your calf. He pulls you closer to the edge of the throne so that your legs could settle around his shoulders. You keep your arms glued to the rest, anxiously waiting for what your husband would do next. You let out a squeak of surprise when his breath fans against your pussy, but Malleus does not touch you right away. He places tantalizing slow kisses up your inner thigh, working his way towards the sensitive place you want to feel him most.

“I can smell your arousal already,” Malleus’s voice rumbles. “Do I satisfy you, Your Majesty?”

Feeling a little bit bolder now, you respond with, “put your mouth on me first and then I’ll decide.”

“As you wish.”

You immediately gasp out, hands clenching tighter around the rest as Malleus licks your folds. He’s gentle at first. You feel his tongue press in you, the forked tip making you shiver from delight. Malleus nearly groans at your taste, trying his best to keep some sense of composure, but it was proving difficult because the sight of you on the throne was all it took for his knees to go weak and for him to want to submit to you fully. You were his, mind, body and soul as he was yours. Anything you wanted, he’d provide within his power to do so. So when you expressed a hidden desire to christen the throne, who was he to deny such luxury? Especially seeing the way you flustered, chest heaving as your legs tightened around his neck in a not-so-desperate attempt to pull away.

“A-ah M-malleus-oh fuck!” You shakily reach out, needing something to steady yourself as your hips bucked upward. That something being Malleus’s horns.

A low, throaty growl resounded from the back of his throat when your cool hands grip the base of his extremities. His body jolted, feelings of jolting electricity surging through his veins from your touch. The growl melted into a groan, and he accidentally bites on your thigh to suppress it. The sound caught the both of you off guard. Malleus hadn’t realized that they were such an erogenous zone as most people wouldn’t dare to touch them. But now, he was craving the sensation more.

“S-shit,” you hiss, not necessarily from pain but the way Malleus seemed to tremble from your mere touch. His face and ears turn bright red and his cock nearly bulged out of the confines of his slacks, almost making you come on the spot. The sight was arousing to say the least. You let out a little giggle, hands wrapping around his horns firmly this time to pull Malleus back towards your dripping pussy.

“I didn’t say stop,” you command. “Keep going until I cum.”

“As you wish.”

Malleus is rougher, sucking on your sensitive clit and greedily tasting your sweet, addictive release. His nails dig into your thighs as he grips them to bury his face deeper between them. You feel your head spin as the overwhelming pleasure overloads your senses. Tears brim your lashes. Your back arches up, pressing yourself firmly against his face as you tug on his horns, making him groan. “Fuck, Mal, I’m close!” Your toes curl and the pressure coiling in your stomach snaps. Gasping out your husband’s name, you cum across his face before slumping back against the throne.

Malleus is briefly taken aback. He slurps up your remaining release, before pulling back to examine your expression. “Was that to your liking, Your Majesty?” He asks, playfully.

You smile. “It was, but, now I have another request.”

“Oh? Do tell.” Malleus’s breath hitches as you press your foot against his crotch. As you press harder, he lets out a shaky sigh, then a moan. His head bows, resting on your other leg while you continue to tease him. “M-my Love, please do not provoke me.” Malleus could feel himself throb as his cock swells within his boxers, begging for you to touch him directly instead of through his clothes. It presses up against his thigh, stretching the fabric when it can’t break free from the confines of the waistband. Your menstruations drive him closer to the edge, leaving him moaning and pleading for your mercy. “Dear, please,” Malleus whines. “You’re being unfair.”

“Ah, you mean “Your Majesty”, you taunt, thoroughly enjoying the sense of power and control you currently posses to make Malleus putty at your finger tips. “You’re not allowed to cum anywhere but inside me, for it?”

Malleus lets out a breathy pant, eyes scrunching shut as he tries to hold back. “As you wish, Your Majesty.”

He suddenly pounces. Before you could register, Malleus pulls you up into his chest, your legs spread wide open before the invisible audience. If someone were to walk in at that moment, they’d see you spread bare and needy on the King of Briar Valley’s lap. The thought mortified you.

“Such a beautiful scene this is,” Malleus mumbled, trailing kissed down your neck. You whimpered. When you tried to close your legs, he keeps a firm hand to pry them open. His finger trails down your folds, collecting your slick on them. “My beautiful Queen by my side.”

“Malleus, w-what if someone walks in?”

“Hm? You weren’t worried about such trivial matters a moment ago?” He leans his head against your back, letting out a sigh. “You are my absolute everything, my treasure. No mortal has ever made me feel this weak and vulnerable. You command my entire heart, and with that, I will always serve you first and foremost. No one shall stop me from worshipping you like you deserve.”

Malleus rocks your hips against his, hands on your waist, making you feel his erection. It’s big, begging to be released. “Tell me what you want, Your Majesty, and it shall be yours.”

“I-I want your cock, Mal,” you whine, arching back to gain more friction. “Please, Mal, I need you inside of me.”

Your heart thrums in anticipation as you hear the sound of the zipper come undone. With a strong arm, Malleus holds you up to release his cock from the confines of his pants, a slight sigh of relief coming from his lips. You swallow nervously. His cock is long and thick, oozing with white pre cum. It rests against his abdomen, twitching with anticipation. You always have trouble taking him all the way from how big he was. Malleus knew that. And it was taking all his control not to rut into you like his instincts were screaming at him to and breed you over and over until the throne was painted with both of your releases.

“You never have to beg, dear. As I said before, whatever you wish is my command.”

You gasp, tears springing to your eyelashes as Malleus slowly inches in. “W-wait t-too much!” You try and fail to pull away. Your husband has one hand gripping your thigh while the other is secured around your waist. “M-mal! You’re too deep! Fuck!”

Malleus grunts as you grind against him. With one final push, he slams you down the rest of his length until he’s sheathed completely. He breathes heavily as he waits for you to adjust to his size. You squeeze around him so tightly and your walls seem to keep fluttering as you struggle to accommodate him. But the moment you start to sniffle, he’s immediately concerned.

“What’s wrong my love?!” He cups your cheek, wiping a stray tear.

You press your hand against your lower abdomen where the indentation of his cock stretches against your womb.

“I can feel you in my tummy.”

And with that, Malleus’s last bit of restraint breaks.

His eyes dilate, looking more reminiscent of a dragon’s. He hooks his arms under your thighs and pulls your legs back against your chest in one swift motion. You gasp out as his cock kisses your cervix followed by subsequently rougher and faster thrusts that have you seeing stars. Malleus’s growls are borderline animalistic as he pounds into you. His fangs grace across your shoulder blade, small bites left in their wake. The further he pulls your legs back, the deeper the stretch feels and you’re coming seconds later.

“Mal-wait! Fuck! I’m gonna cum again-n-no no!” Your head falls back as you cry out, but Malleus neither stops nor slows down. His veiny cock drags across your gummy walls, claiming every inch of you, marking you with his scent.

“You say stop, but you’re squeezing me so tight I can’t pull away,” Malleus pants. “Are you sure of your words, my love? Because your body is telling me otherwise.” His finger teases your clit. You whine as he lets out a hiss. “S-see? Your insides keep tightening every time I press my cock right around here.” To prove his point, he bullies his length against that sweet spot which has your toes curling and clenching around him just like he said. “I know your body better than anything, my love. You can’t lie to me about your desires.”

Malleus pauses just briefly enough to lift and turn you around. He slams you back on his cock and claims your lips in a kiss before you could scream. He sucks the air out of your lungs, relishing the way you taste. You grind down against him, the friction stimulating your clit.

“I-inside,” Malleus grunts. “Can I come inside? I have to…claim you entirely.”

“You’re not allowed to come anywhere else,”you whimper. Malleus’s pace falters slightly. He feels his balls constrict and his abdomen tightened. One, two, three more thrusts and he’s gripping you close to him when his orgasm hits hard. His fangs clamping down on to your shoulder as he fucks his cum deeper, gripping your hips with bruising strength. Your body trembles and all your energy disappears as you succumb to the euphoria induced lightheadedness, making you collapse against Malleus. You feel your stomach warm as your lover paints your insides white with his release. Between your thighs feels sticky as it drips down your legs.

Malleus brushes your sweaty hair out your face before kissing your forehead. “Are you okay, my love?”

“Mhm…” you nod sleepily as you lay against his chest. He continues to trace circles on your back. “I can’t feel my legs though.”

“I’m sorry. I did not mean to cause you discomfort.”

“No it’s okay!” You lean up to kiss him. “If I had known fucking on the throne would have gotten you this worked up, I’d have asked months ago.”

Malleus smiles, hugging you tightly. “You needn’t be afraid to ask me for whatever you want, my love. I would give you the moon itself if I could pry it from the sky.”

[beloveds-embrace]

hiiiiii~!

im addicted to historical manhwa so when I stumbled upon your whole Dukedom141 x Reader which btw I rly love so so much especially the baby longing part 🥺😩

anywayyy, I had this sudden imagines where dear Reader is a childhood bestie to the Crown Prince(who views him only platonically but prince were in romantically one-sided) 👀 ops drama

im rly craving for jealousy troupe bc of how rare they are in tf141xR. they weren't all together yet so how would dukedom141 react when they all saw how close, intimate ish the c. prince was to the reader? they cant do much bc well yea he's the prince of the kingdom, and they just feel/know the prince is in love w/ her too. how can they cope with it? what would their actions be? 🤔🤔 i kinda see the men were plastic fake smiles to the prince and then spoil reader w/ their love languages instead to erase any thoughts of the flirty things the prince did from her mind and just confused why the sudden extra attention to her lmaoo 🤭 but opcorss will love to read your take in this!

if ur free to do this prompt fic, sending my love to you in advance! 😗👉🏻💝💖💗💓💞💕

Sorry for the long wait! I hope you enjoy this <33

Dukedom au masterlist

Price clenched his jaw, his grip tightening on his glass of brandy as he tried- tried- not to let the Crown Prince’s laugh, so carefree and loud, set his teeth further on edge. The Prince’s hand had lingered far too long against the small of your back when he guided you through the ballroom earlier. And now? Now, Price had to sit back and watch as the Prince leaned far too close, his eyes dancing with mischief as he whispered something that had you giggling behind your gloved hand.

“Does he always look at her like that?” Simon’s voice was low, but the tension was evident, nearly vibrating out of him. He stood beside Price, posture rigid, hands clasped behind his back as if that might keep him from marching over and physically removing the man from your side.

“He’s always been like this with her,” John grunted, taking a sip of his drink. It didn’t help ease the sharp taste of bitterness on his tongue. “Childhood friends, they are. Grew up together in the capital.”

“Friends.” Simon scoffed, his eyes following the Prince’s every movement as he twirled you around on the dance floor, his grip firm but tender on your waist. “He’s in love with her. Anyone can see that.”

“Don’t you think I already know that?” John growled under his breath.

You laughed again, your head tilting back, and the sound carried through the grand hall like music. It wasn’t that John and Simon weren’t used to your laughter- it was the way the Prince seemed to be the one causing it, soaking in every moment as if it were his lifeline.

“Can’t do a bloody thing about it either, not in public,” Simon muttered darkly.

They both knew it. The Crown Prince was untouchable, politically and socially. They couldn’t just step in without causing offense or worse- humiliating you.

So instead, they forced themselves to endure it. Forced themselves to wear the kind of smiles that barely reached their eyes when you and the Prince eventually approached, your grin widened with exertion from the dancing.

“My dukes,” the Prince greeted, eyes gleaming. “I hope you don’t mind that I stole your lovely Duchess for a few dances. She’s quite the partner- though I’m sure you already knew that.”

Price smiled. It was tight, controlled. “We’re honored by your attention, Your Highness.”

Simon, however, simply gave a low hum, eyes never leaving the Prince’s hand as it trailed lightly down your arm before he finally let go.

Neither of them could do more than stand there as the Prince leaned in to kiss the back of your hand before excusing himself, promising another dance later in the evening.

The second he was gone, however, Simon leaned down to whisper in your ear. “You’re dancing with me next.”

And John? John was already mentally drafting plans to ensure the Prince’s next visit would be delayed indefinitely.

The Price Duchy was alive with movement and excitement during the Crown Prince’s unexpected visit. Servants bustled, maids rushed to prepare the best rooms, and Kyle and Johnny… well, Kyle and Johnny were trying their damned hardest not to glare daggers at the man who seemed to think it was his home.

“God, look at him.” Johnny hissed as they stood just outside the parlor doors, peeking in through the gap to where the Prince sat beside you. He was leaning in, speaking softly enough that Johnny couldn’t make out the words, but he could see the way your eyes flitted about, bashful and happy.

“He’s too close.” Kyle muttered, his grip tightening around the tray he held.

Your hand rested lightly on the Prince’s arm, your expression warm and relaxed as you laughed at something he said. It wasn’t fair how easy it was for him to make you laugh.

“He’s enjoying this too much,” Johnny said, voice dark and low. “Thinks he can just waltz in here and take all her attention?”

Kyle gave him a side glance. “Don’t let the Duke hear you say that. He’s already half-ready to call off trade agreements if it’d mean keeping him away.”

The Prince leaned closer again, face soft and hands gentle for you, and Johnny had to bite down a curse.

They weren’t allowed to do anything about it- not when it was the bloody Prince himself. But they could fix it.

That evening, they wasted no time executing their plan.

Kyle practically hovered as you settled into the sitting room with your embroidery, immediately offering to fetch you tea and desserts- all your favorites. Johnny sat himself down beside you, offering to entertain you with far better stories than that Prince could ever hope to know.

When you smiled, they felt victorious.

When you sighed in delight over the sweets and laughed over Johnny’s tales, they felt invincible.

Neither mentioned the Prince at all, and neither gave you any opportunity to dwell on his visit. Instead, they drowned you in their attention, making you laugh until your sides ached, ensuring your mind was too full of their affections to even think about whatever flirty nonsense the Prince had whispered earlier.

By the end of the night, when they escorted you to your chambers and bid you goodnight with lingering touches to your hands and cheeks, both Kyle and Johnny felt a smug sense of satisfaction.

Because you were theirs, and no prince- no matter how charming or influential- would ever change that.

[lokisgoodgirl]

Kneeling Ovation [Loki x Reader]

A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: During an extended standing ovation of his one man performance of Hamlet, Loki finds time to fck you senseless with the help of his sparkly slutty belt. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut. Mild jealousy. Power trip. Mild dom. Shameless take on Much Ado 'fit because I cannot stop thinking about that belt. (w/c 1.4k)

Loki stood with his face tipped to the grand circle; arms spread, victory shining in his eyes, and the audience's thunder thickening the air.

He was never more beautiful than when he was this—victorious, adored, and entirely smug about it.

As he should be, you thought, allowing yourself a peek at hundreds of enraptured faces in the audience clapping wildly; their smiles infectious as they waited for —the—moment. The one they’d thought was fake news, photoshop... and maybe it still was. Until—

In one cavalier movement, Loki un-popped the mid button on his black shirt, the top half of it already loose from his exertions. A scream rolled across the audience like a woman’s climax as he tore it open, giving them a brief, devastating glimpse at the pale, chiselled torso you traced each night with your tongue.

It couldn’t be called canon for a one-man Hamlet to include partial nudity, but when it came to Loki—and especially when it came to bets with his brother—it was best to keep your expectations flexible.

He luxuriated in their screams for several seconds, gave a final, small bow, a wave, and strode grimly off the stage... straight into your arms. His mouth fell hard—brutal—his breath hot and sizzling with adrenaline.

Magic simmered on his skin and you clutched his broad shoulders as Loki walked you backwards, your back meeting a flat, wooden outline of a turret used in Act One.

His lips slid and worked your mouth like the swell of the orchestra, the flat of that long, lean stomach pressing tight against your body. The kiss broke, panting filling the space between you.

“Do you hear that?” he murmured, his eyes glittering through shadow. The crowd was still losing its mind, calling for him; begging for him. “My brother will be positively demented with envy.”

A conspiratorial smile curled at your lips. “You should go back on—there’ll be a riot. Two standing ovations…even Tony can’t argue with that.”

“I want a kneeling one, first,” Loki said, his words curling in a savage purr. His thigh slipped between your legs, and the inevitable slide of your pussy against the meat of Loki’s muscle was something outside your control.

“The crew, Loki…” you gasped, his femur pulsing against your swollen clit.

The god’s hair, damp with sweat from the stage lights, brushed your cheek; his lips hovering just out of reach. “I’ve instructed should anyone disturb this side of the stage, they’ll find themselves kicked through the bifrost without exception or care.”

A dizzying pulse of excitement was making it difficult to think as Loki’s mouth fell on yours—harder, greedier— and his hands slid down your delicate neck to your shoulders, pushing down.

You sank to your knees with the accompaniment of the thunk of a belt buckle, and the gritted slide of Loki’s ridiculous, bedazzled accessory from its place on his hips; his revolt against the all-black ensemble tailored to perfection. The applause hadn’t slowed.

Loki’s head fell back a fraction, loose curls dripping down his back and winding against the milky sinews of his neck. Behind him, violet stage lights halo’d around his silhouette, and a shiver tightened your thighs at the thought of that audience cheering him, loving him, worshipping him.

Public adoration made Loki hard as fuck: always had. The only thing that made him harder was you.

His fingers played at the tip of his cock, smooth swipes massaging the pre-cum glistening at the tip. You batted his hand away and gripped the root of him, tongue playing up and down the long vein, sucking teasing kisses into the velvet skin to just the right side of painful. The scent of his eucalyptus soap and a faint musk of warm, clean sweat invaded your nostrils as his cock hit the back of your throat, your fingers tightening around the root to get him off. Faster.

You didn’t like to rush sucking his dick, but the circumstances were unusual enough as it was without anyone risking the bifrost to avoid a mob riot. Loki’s ineffectual attempt at quieting his moans broke off abruptly, and then there was a slither before rough stones scraped against your skin.

You pulled free, staring up at him. In the violet hued gloom, all that was visible was the lift of his most wolfish smirk as the belt looped around your wrists and pulled tight.

“Loki…” you hissed, peering around his legs. He widened them, nudging your chin with his knee.

“They’ll wait as long as I choose,” he growled, laced with an appreciative groan as your lips closed around his cock. “Just fuck me well, and I’ll give them what they want.”

With your wrists bound, Loki was free to work his hands against your scalp; knotting and squeezing and sending fresh thrills sliding in your stomach.

He was breathless, now, thrusting as deep as he dared, letting you set the pace as his thighs shook and the pounding of the audience’s feet trembled through the boards beneath your knees; the aftershocks rattling the buckle nestled between your bound wrists. ‘Loki. Loki. Loki.’

The god gave a warning groan—but instead of taking his cum in a salty rush as he spasmed through climax, Loki stooped and gathered you under one arm, forcing you to your feet. He lifted you as though you weighed nothing, sliding your ass onto a box beside the turret and pushing the chiffon skirt up your thighs.

“We shouldn't," you goaded, eyes fixed on his dilated pupils and the hungry desire sharpening the shadows carved into his cheekbones.

"There is nothing either good or bad," he recited; low, and smooth, and dripping with gravitas, "but thinking makes it so."

Loki’s breath was hot in the curve of your neck, his teeth scraping across the delicate skin in teasing, practiced debauchery. In that moment you wished briefly the belt binding you would vanish so you could claw his broad shoulders, make him hiss with the pained pleasure he loved. The thought of him presenting himself in front of the crowd with your marks blossoming on his skin in shades of red, and purple; his hair mussed and lips raw, and the wet slick of you coating his cock…it was almost too much to bear.

Light burst behind your eyelids as Loki gripped your bound wrists with one hand, raising them above your head and looping them over his own. The diamante belt exploded in shards of refracted light, spiralling against the dark drape of curtains separating your fuck-nest from the roar of the audience.

“Mine,” you panted, clenching around him. Loki grunted, his jaw set in the utter determination he withheld for battle and clandestine fucking.

“Jealous little thing, aren’t you?” he said, crushing one desperate kiss onto another, pushing into your lips until the whimpers sliding from your mouth grew hot; stifling. “Advisable, to be sure. Perhaps I’ll drag you out there with me; bound, freshly fucked, my seed smeared down your legs, would that suffice? Then, everyone would know what a dirty, gorgeous slut I've captured from their realm.”

He delivered a calculated, devastating thrust that knocked the breath from your lungs.

“Bastard,” you moaned, as the coil inside you drew tight. Loki’s brows peaked, his thrusts slowing, and the flat, hard muscles of his pelvis dragged against your clit. “Show me how much you adore me, darling,” he murmured, a flicker of victory in his eyes, sinking to the hilt and drawing back, rocking you over the edge to the endless chant of his name, the endless stamp of feet and clapping in organised rhythm. You came with a strangled gasp of his name against his jaw, drawing the knotted belt hard against the top of his spine. Every tendon on his neck was tense with power, trembling with the coming storm.

One of his hands flew to your ass, pulling you deep, the other pushing the fucked-out hair from your face and sliding his thumb inside your hot, willing mouth as he lost himself. You sucked.

Loki’s eyes fluttered closed, head falling back. He spent himself over long, shuddering seconds, his damp forehead pressed to yours, and the syllables of your name catching roughly in his throat.

“Go,” you murmured, tipping his chin up when his breaths slowed. “I’ll meet you at the hotel.”

A sardonic smile unfurled on the god’s lips. “If I survive the stage door, you mean. By all accounts it will make that business with Thanos seem like a veritable jamboree.”

You slid his cock from inside you, zipping up his trousers with a pointed yank pulling his waistband. Loki melted into the kiss as the audience’s enthusiasm washed over you from beyond the curtain with new fervour.

“Go,” you urged as Loki’s lips worked down your neck. He sighed, withdrew, and pushed the wild tendrils of hair back from his face; spreading his arms expectantly.

“Perfect,” you said, and Loki grinned.

“Not freshly fucked?”

“That's what I said.” You exchanged a lingering smile before he paused at the boundary of the stage, taking a breath, a moment of vulnerability tremoring over his face before you remembered... “Loki—”

He turned fractionally, eyebrows raised as you lifted your bound wrists, the diamantes sparkling manically under the lights.

“Oh dear…” he purred, flicking out the sides of his shirt. “Let’s hope the press don’t get a photograph at the stage door, hmm?”

And with a swallowing roar of the audience and final wink, he was gone.

Tags in comments 🤗 Come say hi! x

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Cary Grant (The Philadelphia Story, His Girl Friday, Bringing Up Baby, Charade)—just the peak of old-school Hollywood sexuality. The glam, the suits, the gentle wit, the acrobatics, those eyes that always looked like they knew exactly what movie they were in and were laughing at the joke...

Vincent Price (Laura, Leave Her to Heaven, House on Haunted Hill, The Masque of the Red Death)—svelte, stylish, horrifying, beautiful, wickedly funny, camp and gorgeous and evil. he was an art connoisseur who advocated passionately indigenous art, he was an actual literal gourmet cook, he was so liberal he got greylisted during the mccarthy era for being too rad, he's my favorite muppets guest of all time

This is round 4 of the bracket. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage man.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Vincent Price propaganda:

Submitted: this fancam

Submitted: this entire Tumblr page

Cary Grant propaganda:

"My Golden Age of Hollywood professor, who was very outwardly gay himself, put it this way: Even though Grant's sexuality was kind of an open secret in Hollywood, the public couldn't know in any real way. But anybody could see that there was a queerness about him, so he was casted for roles where he physically embodies his masculinity in a non-explicit but queer way. Bringing Up Baby is famous for the scene where Grant wears a frilly robe (pictured below, but what people don't always realise is that he plays kind of an awkward nerd in that movie. He's a hot awkward scientist in a grand robe!!! Hot!!! In The Philadelphia Story, one of my famous movies of all time, he plays C. K. Dexter Haven, a rich, sarcastic, supposedly abusive guy. And yet, what we see is this laid back, dandy-ish figure, who absolutely does not feel threatened when a woman he supposedly loves (Katharine Hepburn) starts having feelings for, and hooks up with another guy (James Stewart). He lets a drunk Stewart into his office and helps him get his job back! Obviously that is the script and not the actor, but the whole film, and that scene in particular, shows him having this very queer attitude of openness toward Hepburn and Stewart, which is only amplified by the casting of Grant and his portrayal of the character. Anyway, this is not an essay arguing for The Philadelphia Story to be considered a queer film, all I will say is: he's super hot in it."

The link to the above mentioned frilly robe scene from Bringing Up Baby: "I just went gay all of a sudden!"

last minute cary grant propaganda: the last few paragraphs of that new vanity fair article about him and randolph scott that just came out 2 days ago on cary's birthday where he calls it "gravity collapse" and "love at first sight" and says their souls touched and and and i'm actually sharing this mostly because it makes me emotional but also because a vote for archibald is a vote for love. this is my message. apologies for sounding mildly insane.

[jungwnies]

sfw alphabet | yang jungwon (en-)

୨ৎ : synopsis : sfw a-z alphabet for yang jungwon

୨ৎ : word count : 1321

୨ৎ : requested by : @miyoung07

୨ৎ masterlist ୨ৎ buy me a ko-fi ୨ৎ

(a/n) : don't forget to like & reblog !! my requests are open!

a ⤖ affection (how affectionate is he? how often does he show affection?)

he’s subtly affectionate, always finding small ways to show he cares.

acts of service and thoughtful gestures over grand romantic displays.

would sneak in little moments of affection, like adjusting your jacket or handing you your favorite drink without you asking.

private with his affection, definitely prefers moments just between the two of you rather than public displays.

b ⤖ beginning (what would he be like as a bsf; how would the friendship start?)

friendship starts with light teasing.

he’d playfully mock you, but only because he finds you fun to be around.

always the first to check up on you but in a casual, “hey, i saw this and thought of you” way.

late-night conversations about anything and everything

growing closer over time is def clear in this situation.

c ⤖ cuddles (does he like to cuddle; how would he cuddle?)

enjoys cuddling but won’t admit it at first.

prefers back hugs or resting his head on your shoulder when he's tired.

the type to absentmindedly play with your fingers or hair while cuddling.

loves it when you lean into him because it makes him feel trusted and needed.

d ⤖ domestic (does he want to settle down; how good is he at cooking and cleaning?)

would love the idea of settling down one day, but only when the time feels right.

surprisingly good at organizing but not the best cook (he’d try, though).

loves a clean space and might nag you playfully if you’re messy.

wants a home that feels warm, safe, and full of love.

e ⤖ ending (if he had to break up with you; how would he do it?)

jungwon would struggle with breaking up, as he deeply values his relationships.

he would be honest and direct but gentle, ensuring you know it’s not because of a lack of love.

the type to say, “i’ll always care about you,” and mean it.

would check in on you from time to time, even if it’s from a distance.

f ⤖ fiance (how does he feel about commitment; would he want to get married quick?)

believes in commitment but doesn’t rush it, he wants to be sure.

would take marriage seriously and want to build a strong foundation first.

once he decides, he’s 100% all in, treating you like his forever from that moment.

probably the type to propose in a meaningful, intimate setting rather than a grand spectacle.

g ⤖ gentle (how gentle is he; emotionally + physically?)

emotionally, he’s incredibly understanding and patient.

physically, he’s careful…soft touches, reassuring pats, gentle forehead nudges.

would rather talk things through than argue, always striving for peace.

h ⤖ hugs (does he likes hugs; how often does he hug you; what are his hugs like?)

loves giving and receiving hugs, especially when he’s tired.

hugs you often, they're usually quick side hugs as a greeting, long embraces when he needs comfort.

his hugs feel warm, safe, and reassuring, like he’s shielding you from the world.

i ⤖ i love you (how fast does he say he loves you?)

doesn’t say it super early but once he does, he means it wholeheartedly.

might show it more through actions first.

bringing you things, remembering little details, always showing up.

when he finally says it, it’s soft, sincere, and makes your heart skip a beat.

j ⤖ jealousy (how jealous does he get; what does he do when he is jealous?)

gets quietly jealous but won’t act out, he just watches from a distance.

might become extra affectionate or subtly competitive if he feels threatened.

the type to say, “do you really think they’re funnier than me?” in a teasing but slightly serious way.

k ⤖ kisses (what are his kisses like; where does he like to kiss you; where does he like to be kissed?)

soft, slow, meaningful, never rushed.

loves kissing your forehead or temple as a silent way of saying, “i’m here.”

likes being kissed on the jaw or near his ear, it flusters him a little.

l ⤖ little ones (how is he around children?)

surprisingly great with kids! he’s patient, playful, and naturally good at keeping them entertained.

would be the fun uncle type, always making kids laugh with silly antics.

would want kids of his own one day but only when he’s fully ready.

m ⤖ morning (how are mornings spent with him?)

not a morning person but wakes up quickly when needed.

would groggily mumble “good morning” before pulling you back into bed for five more minutes.

loves slow mornings, drinking coffee, listening to music, just enjoying your presence.

n ⤖ night (how are nights spent with him?)

nights are for deep talks, late-night walks, or watching random videos together.

gets a little more affectionate when sleepy.

resting his head on your lap, holding your hand absentmindedly.

would rather spend nights in than go out, preferring cozy, quiet moments.

o ⤖ open (when would he open up; does he say everything at once or does he wait to reveal himself?)

takes his time opening up, he needs to trust you first.

won’t dump everything on you at once but slowly reveals his thoughts over time.

once he’s comfortable, he’s an open book, telling you his fears, dreams, and everything in between.

p ⤖ patience (how easily angered is he?)

incredibly patient, rarely gets angry.

if he does get mad, he goes quiet rather than lashing out.

takes a deep breath and thinks before reacting.

he’d rather resolve things peacefully.

q ⤖ quizzes (how much would he remember about you; does he remember every little detail; or is he forgetful?)

remembers the little things; your favorite snack, the way you like your coffee, the song that makes you cry.

might surprise you with how much he remembers even when you think he’s not paying attention.

probably brings up random things you mentioned in passing months ago.

r ⤖ remember (what is his favorite moment in the relationship?)

probably a simple, quiet moment.

like walking together on a cool evening, sharing headphones, feeling at peace.

cherishes the little things more than big, extravagant moments.

s ⤖ security (how protective is he; how does he protect you; how would he like to be protected?)

quietly protective, always looking out for you even when you don’t notice.

would rather subtly guide you away from danger than make a big scene.

if you’re upset, he’d protect your feelings, offering soft reassurances and a steady presence.

t ⤖ try (how much effort does he put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

puts effort into everything; dates, anniversaries, even random tuesdays.

loves thoughtful gifts and surprises, always aiming to make you smile.

might not always be extravagant, but every little thing he does has meaning behind it.

u ⤖ ugly (what are some of his bad habits?)

overworks himself and sometimes forgets to take breaks.

can be stubborn about asking for help.

might bottle up his feelings instead of immediately sharing them.

v ⤖ vanity (how concerned is he with his looks?)

takes care of his appearance but isn’t overly obsessed with it.

likes looking good but doesn’t need constant reassurance.

might fix his hair in a reflection but wouldn’t stress too much about it.

w ⤖ whole (would he feel incomplete without you?)

would feel like something is missing without you.

jungwon would feel like like his world is a little quieter, a little less warm.

wouldn’t be overly dependent, but you’re an irreplaceable part of his life.

x ⤖ xtra (random headcanon for him)

loves making inside jokes, you should expect a lot of teasing and playful banter.

probably has a secret playlist of songs that remind him of you.

likes holding onto little keepsakes, movie tickets, handwritten notes, anything sentimental.

y ⤖ yuck (what are some things he wouldn't like; in general or in a partner?)

dislikes dishonesty and insincerity, he values genuine connections.

hates unnecessary drama or conflict.

not a fan of super loud, overwhelming environments all the time.

z ⤖ zzz (what are his sleeping habits?)

moves a little in his sleep but isn’t a crazy sleeper.

sometimes falls asleep mid-conversation if he’s really tired.

loves sleeping with a blanket, even in the summer.

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[literaryvein-reblogs]

Words for Inns & Hotels

Inn

guest house (Old English) ⚜ hostry (1377) ⚜ harbergery; host (1382)

hostel (c.1384) ⚜ hostelry (c.1386) ⚜ harbergage; inn (c.1400)

hostelar (1424) ⚜ host-house (1570) ⚜ fondaco (1599)

auberge; sporting house (1615) ⚜ albergo (1617) ⚜ rancho (1648)

posada (1652) ⚜ public house (1655) ⚜ inn-house (1694)

livery tavern (1787) ⚜ roadhouse (1806) ⚜ meson (1817)

tambo (1830) ⚜ gasthaus (1834) ⚜ estalagem (1835)

locanda (1838) ⚜ temperance inn (c.1849) ⚜ sala (1871)

bush-inn (1881) ⚜ ryokan (1914) ⚜ pousada (1949)

B and B (abbreviation for "Bed and Breakfast") (1961)

Hotel

hotel (1687) ⚜ hotel garni (1744) ⚜ lodge (c.1817) ⚜ gasthof (1832)

temperance house (1833) ⚜ temperance hotel (1837)

railway hotel (1839) ⚜ parador (1845) ⚜ palace hotel (1870)

metropole (1890) ⚜ Ritz (1900) ⚜ Trust House (1903) ⚜ motel (1925)

residential (1940) ⚜ welfare hotel (1952) ⚜ botel (1956) ⚜ floatel (1959)

The turning point in the first category above is around 1600.

Before then, there were relatively few words for a traveller’s lodging, and they form a close-knit etymological community.

The later decades of the 16th century saw a great increase in travel from England to the continent of Europe, during periods of relative peace. Some of it was motivated by the need to avoid religious persecution in England. Some was for cultural reasons.

Travelling theatre companies brought their plays abroad, and the wealthy made cultural visits, especially to France and Italy – forerunners of the ‘Grand Tour’ which would become a major part of the European social scene during and after the late 17th century.

By the 20th century, with travel becoming so much easier, we see words coming from further afield, as English becomes established as a global language

Source ⚜ More: Word Lists ⚜ Notes & References ⚜ Historical Thesaurus

[colie-nne]

i-c-o-n-i-c part 1

pairing: lewis hamilton x fem!reader | instagram au

summary: what it feels like to be the most iconic yet controversial couple in the paddock.

warning: implied age gap, other than that none.

requested: yes | no - REQUESTS ARE OPEN

a/n: so uhm this is part one, planned to post the whole thing but it came to be too long so i'm separating this into two. Hope you like it!!

yourusername added to their story

(caption: hello, monaco🇲🇨)

Daily WAG updates

158,219 likes

Daily WAG updates Lewis Hamilton's new girlfriend, Y/n L/n, was seen entering the paddock for the Monaco Grand Prix qualifying sessions, three months after confirming their relationship. (photos are from Twitter and y/n's latest story: yourusername)

view all 503 comments

user a lewis girl, it's been so long omy!!!🤍

user is it true that she's younger than him

user yes! people say she's only in her early twenties user i heard she was... user OH WHAT?

user another one using the drivers for fame 🤮🤮🤮

lewishamilton

liked by georgerussell63, mickschumacher and 1,540,965 others

lewishamilton Great race today, experienced a few mishaps but everything ended up good. Nice work coming from the team, who's always giving their best. Felt real support and love this weekend. Merci, Monaco 🇲🇨. (28/05/2023)

view all 5,978 comments

yourusername always the greatest ❤️

lewishamilton 😘 user i can't believe she got lewis to use that emoji, so cute!!! user the support he's missing has arrived

user and he has posted her....

user wanna bet that he'll drop her in a few weeks? user you do know they've been together for almost a year before going public right?

yourusername

liked by lewishamilton, mercedesamgf1 and 67,920 others

yourusername Thank you for the experience, Monaco. See you!

also, lewishamilton can i have your number? 🫣

view all 3,022 comments

lewishamilton nope, sorry ❤️

georgerussell63 no, he's already with me yourusername oh ok❤️ user not george fighting for lewis 😂

user his smile !!! and that last pic, they're so cute

user don't you guys find it weird that she's closer to george and mick's age, yet she's dating him?

user she's an adult, she knows what she's doing. user yeah, she knows how to spend his money😒

mercedesamgf1 we can give you his number in exchange for those cookies you brought last time.

yourusername sure!! great, thank you!!😊 user i like how his team likes her with lewis

Daily WAG updates

99,073 likes

Daily WAG updates Y/n L/n spotted shopping around Monte Carlo with Mercedes' Lewis Hamilton (02/06/2023)

view all 745 comments

user and there goes his money

user her family is known in the business industry and that y/n herself is a businesswoman, i don't think she needs lewis' money tbh

user what a golddigger at such a young age

user Y/n's so pretty!! i see why lewis is with her

user yeah, she's also very sweet, cause I happen to be there when they were shopping and when I asked lewis for a picture she asked me if she could take it instead!! she also gave me that cookie his team was raving on about

user their age difference still bothers me... he's like 13 years older than her

user but they did say they met when she was 20 so nothing's wrong user i still think it's too big of an age gap

lewishamilton

liked by carlossainz55, georgerussell63 and 1,875,289 others

lewishamilton Silver in Spain 💥💥 Great work from everyone as always. Congratulations on a good race to georgerussell63 as well. Felt the support and love this weekend as well. Thank you for the team and yourusername❤️ for being there !! Some post race and after party pics (04/06/2023)

view all 4,092 comments

user the heart!!! the heart oooooo!! congrats to lewis and george!!

user the are the it couple!! very very iconic, always serving

yourusername i will always be there for you, my heart

lewishamilton as i to you user this is so sweet it's making me sick carlossainz55 now show love to my bucket hat

user the support and motivation y/n gives lewis is phenomenal, she should attend the races so we can see our man be p1 again

user why is she always with lewis?? all she does is pose around the paddock

user uhm because they're together? user they should really break up at this point. i also can't see lewis settling with someone much younger than him user are we really still talking about the age gap or you're just saying that to throw hate on y/n??

Daily WAG updates

263,259 likes

Daily WAG updates After being inactive for weeks, Y/n has made her account private. Lewis has yet made a statement after the hate thread the two has been receiving. (28/06/2023)

view all 3,178 comments

user i feel so sad for her, the fact that they had to hide their relationship for almost a year and the time they chose to public you've doubled up on the hate train. ya'll just jealous of her at this point.

user oh no!!! people be calling themselves fans of Lewis but will make his love ones go on private because of your delusional asses.

user FINALLY!!! Now, i just need the announcement that they broke up. it doesn't need to be today, tomorrow, or next week i just need it to happen.

user girl... are you sick? user no you guys are cause that girl was obviously using lewis and his money for her own gains user you guys literally bullied the poor girl into hiding.

user i wonder what lewis have to say after all this... i'm deeply sadden by the suddent course of this, nothing like i expected.

user so this is the reason she hasn;t been posting lately... hoping she'll come back when she's ready, i'll miss seeing her posts with lewis they're adorable.

[frostedmagnolias]

Dress

c. 1890-1892

Grand Rapids Public Museum

[soleilpinto]

Cruising in Papaya: Behind the Paddock ˚‧｡⋆🍁

“Life’s Better on Saturn ” ˙✧˖° ༘ ⋆｡˚ (Saturn, SZA)

Synopsis: Y/N Laurant, a glamorous socialite, meets Lando Norris during a race weekend, sparks fly between the two, but as their feelings deepen, they struggle to balance their secret relationship with their public lives, all while navigating the pressure of the fast-paced F1 scene.

Genre: (Some) Angst, Fluff, Romance

AU: Social Media and Written!au

Pairing: Lando x Afab!Socialite!Reader

Warnings: None

Notes: In all honesty, I hate how I’m already rushing out the chapters one by one, but my final semester is about to start and I have work so I probably won’t have the time to update like this soon. 😭

Cruising in Papaya Masterlist. (Prev./Next.)

liked by lettiemng, lando and others.

laurant.yn busy busy

flavy.barla 💋

— laurant.yn merci ma chérie !! x (thank you my darling)

alexandrasaintmleux si magnifique 😍 (so gorgeous)

— laurant.yn merci ! x

liked by laurant.yn, kimi.antonelli and 687,073 others

lando My tribute to a hero of mine 🇧🇷

Senna is a true legend of our sport and has inspired not only me but every driver who races today. He's the greatest to ever race around Monaco and I wanted to capture that in this helmet. His iconic design combined with mirrored chrome to reflect the streets he was so great on.

The balmy Monaco air carries the scent of the sea as you sit on the terrace of a chic café, the soft hum of luxury cars passing by blending with the chatter of your friends.

The group is animated as always, a mix of socialites who’ve grown up frequenting glamorous events like the Monaco Grand Prix.

They sip their rosé with practiced elegance, their conversation weaving effortlessly between fashion, parties, and—of course—Formula 1.

“I swear, Charles looked straight at me during the paddock walk last year,” one of your friends gushes, flipping her sunglasses onto her head. “He’s even more gorgeous in person.”

“And don’t get me started on the adrenaline during qualifying,” another chimes in. “There’s nothing like it. Y/N, you must be so excited—it’s your first Monaco Grand Prix, isn’t it?”

You glance up from your glass of sparkling water, a soft smile playing on your lips.

“It is,” you admit, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I wasn’t really into F1 before Miami, but I guess I’ve had a change of heart.”

One of your friends narrows her eyes playfully. “A change of heart? Y/N, you practically rolled your eyes every time we brought it up. What happened?”

The group leans in, curiosity piqued, and you hesitate for a moment, trying to choose your words carefully.

“Well... I’ve been getting to know one of the drivers,” you say casually as if it’s not a big deal.

The table erupts into a chorus of gasps and playful shrieks. “Oh my God!” one of them exclaims, practically spilling her drink. “You’ve been holding out on us! Which driver?”

You laugh, trying to downplay the situation. “It’s not like that. We’ve just been talking a bit. I met him in Miami, and we’ve stayed in touch.”

“Stayed in touch?” another friend teases, raising a perfectly sculpted brow. “Y/N, do you realize how impossible it is for anyone to get paddock passes casually unless they’re very well-connected? And or loaded, like us, and you’re telling me you just ‘talked a bit’? Spill.”

You can feel your cheeks warm under their teasing gazes. “Okay, fine,” you say, leaning back in your chair. “Lando invited me. Apparently, I’m one of his ‘special guests’ for the weekend.”

The table explodes in a mix of disbelief and excitement.

“Lando Norris? Are you serious? He’s adorable!” one of them exclaims, while another pulls out her phone to scroll through his Instagram.

“So, that’s why you suddenly care about F1,” someone else teases, her tone light but knowing.

You roll your eyes with a smile. “It’s not like that. He’s... nice, okay? Funny. Easy to talk to.”

“And cute,” another adds, grinning. “Don’t forget cute.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Yes, and cute. But seriously, it’s nothing. He was kind enough to invite me, and I didn’t want to turn down the opportunity to experience Monaco like this. I usually turned you guys down, remember?”

Your friends exchange knowing looks, their smiles mischievous. “Nothing, huh?” one says. “Y/N, you don’t just end up as a ‘special guest’ for no reason. He’s clearly into you.”

You sip your drink, trying to hide your smile.

“Let’s just say I’m keeping an open mind about the whole F1 thing. For now.”

As the conversation shifts back to race predictions and paddock gossip, you glance out at the shimmering Mediterranean, the soft hum of excitement buzzing in the back of your mind.

The weekend hasn’t even started, but something tells you it’s going to be unforgettable.

@MonacoGlamWatch 🚨 Spotted: Y/N Laurant casually strolling through the paddock with her girl squad at the Monaco GP. No PR team in sight, just her and her friends. But why was she later seen in the McLaren garage? 👀

@EliteInsider Y/N Laurant is serving elegance at the Monaco Grand Prix today, but all eyes are on her unexpected appearance in the McLaren garage. No official work, just her and her very fashionable crew. What’s the connection? 🤔

@VelvetScene Y/N Laurant was all smiles in the McLaren garage today, and we’re dying to know why. No cameras, no campaigns—just her and her friends in their chicest outfits. Lando? 👀

@PaddockChic Okay, but why is Y/N Laurant in the McLaren garage with no professional ties and just her friends? She’s not even pretending to hide it. The tea is brewing. 

The Monaco paddock buzzes around you like a hive, the air electric with the chatter of fans, media, and the occasional roar of engines.

You stand with your friends near the McLaren garage, their conversation flowing effortlessly about the latest F1 gossip and weekend plans.

“So, Y/N,” one of them teases, tilting her head slyly. “How does it feel to be the paddock’s new It Girl?”

You roll your eyes, though the heat rising to your cheeks betrays your attempt at nonchalance.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t,” another chimes in, nudging you lightly. “But I saw Lando giving you that look earlier. You’re not fooling anyone.”

“Okay, first of all,” you start, but your voice trails off as you notice a McLaren team member motioning subtly in your direction.

“You’re excusing yourself, aren’t you?” one of your friends guesses, her grin wide.

You sigh, smoothing down your outfit. “I’ll be right back.”

“Take your time,” another quips, her smirk far too knowing. “We’ll just be here... observing.”

You shake your head, a soft laugh escaping as you turn and walk toward the motorhome.

Once inside, the hum of the paddock fades into the background, replaced by the cool quiet of the space. You spot Lando almost immediately, leaning casually against the counter, his water bottle in hand.

He’s dressed down compared to the chaos outside—team polo slightly rumpled, sneakers tapping lightly against the floor—but somehow, he looks even more at ease.

“Hey,” he greets, his smile lighting up as he sees you. “Surprised you made it through the crowd in one piece.”

You chuckle, walking over to him. “Barely. It’s chaos out there. I don’t know how you deal with it.”

“Years of practice,” he replies, pushing off the counter and gesturing toward the couch. “Come on, sit. You look like you could use a break.”

You settle onto the plush cushions, smoothing your skirt as he sits across from you.

“So,” he starts, leaning forward slightly, “what do you think of your second paddock experience?”

You tilt your head, considering.

“It’s... overwhelming, but in a good way. The energy here is incredible.”

“And the constant cameras?” he asks, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

You groan, dropping your head back against the couch.

“Don’t even get me started. I’ve never had so many people try to take my picture. It’s like they’re waiting for me to trip or spill coffee or something.”

He laughs, shaking his head. “Welcome to my life.”

“Yeah, but you’re used to it,” you counter, sitting up again.

“You’re Lando Norris. People are obsessed with you.”

He shrugs, his grin softening.

“Doesn’t mean it’s not annoying. Especially when they start making stuff up.”

“Tell me about it,” you sigh. “People are already speculating about why I’m here, and it’s barely been a day. Gossip accounts are relentless.”

Lando leans back, his gaze flicking briefly to the window where the paddock chaos is visible.

“They don’t even need a reason. One picture, and suddenly I’m marrying someone I’ve barely spoken to. It’s ridiculous.” You nod, fiddling with the edge of a pillow.

“Or they’re claiming you’ve got some secret feud going on. I can’t even go to lunch without it becoming a thing.”

He grins, leaning in slightly. “Feuds and engagements? You’re really living the high life.”

“You’re impossible.” You laugh, nudging his knee lightly.

“Maybe,” he says, his tone lighter now. “But honestly, it’s nice having you here. Even with all the noise, you make it easier to ignore.”

You glance at him, catching the sincerity in his expression. His blue-green eyes hold yours for a moment, and there’s a warmth there that makes your chest tighten in the best way.

“Thanks,” you say softly. “It’s nice having someone who understands what it’s like.”

He nods, his smile small but genuine. “It’s not easy, but... I think it’s worth it.”

Before you can respond, a faint knock on the door reminds you of the world waiting just outside.

“Looks like our quiet time is up,” you say, standing and smoothing down your outfit.

Lando rises too, his grin returning. “For now. But hey, maybe we’ll give them something to really talk about.”

You laugh, shaking your head as you open the door, the noise of the paddock rushing back in. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it,” he teases, his voice light but his gaze lingering on you a little longer than necessary.

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, francisca.cgomes and others

laurant.yn monaco with a twist

iamrebeccad 😍

lettiemng obsessedd

littlefoxhermes i smell a new motorsport fan

The low hum of the McLaren 720S fills the quiet Monaco streets, its sleek curves illuminated by the city’s golden glow.

Lando waits outside your building, casually leaning against the car, one hand tucked into his pocket, the other fiddling with his phone. When he looks up and sees you, a soft smile spreads across his face.

“Hey,” he greets, his voice warm. “Hope I didn’t pull you away from anything important.”

You shake your head, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“Not at all. Midnight drives with F1 drivers aren’t exactly a regular thing for me, though.”

He chuckles, opening the passenger door for you. “Well, let’s change that.”

You slide into the car, the luxurious leather seats cradling you as he closes the door and rounds to the driver’s side. The engine purrs to life, the sound deep and resonant.

As he pulls out onto the winding roads, the city stretches out below you, the harbor glittering like a sea of stars.

For a while, neither of you speaks, content to let the drive and the scenery fill the silence. But eventually, Lando breaks it.

“So,” he begins, glancing over at you briefly before focusing back on the road. “How are you feeling about all... this?”

You furrow your brows, though his tone makes it clear he doesn’t mean the drive. “About what, exactly?”

“Us,” he says simply, the word hanging in the air between you. “Whatever this is.”

You lean back in your seat, your gaze drifting to the passing lights.

“Honestly? I don’t know yet. It’s... different. But not in a bad way.”

“Different is good,” he agrees, his voice thoughtful.

“I just—” He pauses, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. “I don’t want to rush this. Or put unnecessary pressure on it.”

You turn to look at him, your expression softening. “Me neither. I think... it’s okay to take our time. To figure out what this is without trying to label it right away.”

He nods, his lips curving into a small, appreciative smile.

“Exactly. I like spending time with you. A lot. But the media, the expectations—it can mess with things if we let it.”

“Then we don’t let it,” you say simply. “We keep it between us, no labels, no pressure. Just... whatever feels right.”

He glances at you again, his gaze lingering this time. “You’re surprisingly good at making things simple.”

“Maybe it’s you who complicates things, Norris.” You laugh softly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

He grins, the tension in the car easing. “Touché.”

The car slows as he pulls into a quiet overlook, the harbor stretching out below like a postcard. He parks and leans back, one arm draped casually over the steering wheel as he looks at you.

“For the record,” he says, his tone light but sincere, “I like this. Whatever it is. I want to see where it goes.”

You smile, warmth spreading through you at his words. “Me too.”

For a moment, the world outside the car fades away, leaving just the two of you in your little bubble. No cameras, no fans, no expectations—just a boy and a girl, exploring something new and uncharted.

“Alright,” he says finally, starting the engine again. “No labels, no drama. Just us.”

“Just us,” you echo, leaning back in your seat as the car glides back onto the road.

The drive continues, the conversation light but tinged with the promise of something deeper. Neither of you knows exactly where this road will lead, but for now, the journey feels enough.

© soleilpinto 25’ -. no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any manner without the permission from the publisher.

Taglist: @bakingpiastries @linnygirl09

[sotwk]

Cinderella Moment (Steve Rogers x fem!Reader) Part 1 of 2

One night at a charity gala with Captain Steve Rogers has all the makings of a fairytale, but instead it all goes horribly awry.

Word count: 3.2k Genre tags: first meetings, platonic hinting at romantic interest, angst, family issues, hurt/comfort, post-Blip, Steve never left Rating: Teen Content Warnings: emotional abuse, public humiliation, vulgar language, brief, minor assault To Read on AO3: LINK

Cinderella Moment

Steve Rogers x FemReader

PART ONE

Oh, this is hell. I'm literally walking into hell.

However, when the photographers stationed by the venue entrance began snapping away, you were ready with your thousand-watt smiles and elegant head tilts, angled precisely to capture the best view of your face. After all, over a decade of experience had turned you into a pro, and it was your long history of successful performances that landed you back in this situation in the first place.

But your five-year hiatus from society--and from existing--had made your instincts a little rusty and your patience a lot thinner. As you started to move further onto the lobby, to begin your descent down the grand staircase to the party below, Madeline seized your forearm, her crimson-clawed fingers making you wince. 

“What are you doing?! Wait.” your stepmother hissed. “Harlan should be here in a moment to walk us both down. Bad enough that your father canceled at the last minute and left us to arrive here by ourselves! And what a poorly organized event! We paid a fortune for your escort, and he couldn't even be made to do the job right?!”

That's because they respect him enough not to treat him like a performing monkey, you thought wryly, while still keeping that jaw-aching smile steady on your lips. A luxury that your own family could never seem to afford you, despite the obscene wealth the clan has held for four generations.

But you obeyed like the good monkey you were, and held still to wait for an escort to lead you into the event as a proper lady should. You brushed your hands over the shimmering, billowy skirt of your gown with fond wistfulness. You loved this dress almost as much as you loathed to be there; it was a positive you could focus on and take refuge in, at least. Madeline had, if nothing else, great taste and connections with every designer and fashion house in the world. Ever since she married your father, you've been the best-dressed doll at every function they dispatched you to. 

This particular gown, a Zac Posen original, was exceptional. They went hard on it. It was designed to turn heads, as Madeline intended. “We can't let him completely overshadow you,” she declared at the fitting appointment. “Everyone's eyes can't be on just him the whole evening. Otherwise, what’s the point?”

“Well, don’t you look stunning!” Your Uncle Harlan descended on you suddenly with a booming laugh and scratchy kiss to the cheek. You could tell he was already a few drinks in. He lived for a good gala more than anyone in your family and never had to be persuaded to make an appearance. “Such beauty will get a little tardiness forgiven and forgotten any time. Don't you agree, Captain Rogers?”

Harlan stepped aside to greet your stepmother, and fully revealed the man lingering behind him. You blinked at the legend come to life, instantly recognizable and eerily so much like his pictures from your elementary school textbooks, even while wearing a pristine black tuxedo in lieu of his iconic stars and stripes. Suddenly you felt just an extra touch of gratitude towards Madeline for putting such intense effort into your look for the evening. 

“Captain Rogers.” Cameras clicked at furious speed from every direction as you faced your date. Smiles up. Time to start collecting returns on what your grandfather paid seven figures for. “What an honor to meet you, sir.”

“It’s just Steve,” he said, giving the hand you offered a polite shake. “And the pleasure is all mine. Thank you for…” He paused and cleared his throat, giving away his own status as a fellow puppet in this play (as if you didn’t already know it), and finished lamely, “Thank you for coming.” 

Dismissing the awkward moment, you reminded him of your name, and that you didn’t want to go by “Miss” either.  

Steve was familiar enough with the drill to take your hand on his arm and guide you smoothly down the staircase, even managing not to tread on the most voluminous skirt you’d ever worn in your life. A sea of cell phone cameras joined the quest to capture the moment, and you tried not to think about videos of you being possessed by a hundred strangers only to be released and shared with a million other strangers. 

It’s nothing new, you told yourself. Been here, done this.

Except you haven’t. Your usual escorts of dynasty heirs and startup founders paid to get their pictures published on antiquated society pages when they couldn’t buy their way into a viral video. Captain America attending a function like this was an extremely rare occurrence, guaranteeing a social media frenzy his fans would feed on for weeks if not months. You were just there to creep along the edges of the Captain’s spotlight, and by extension, so was your family who paid for the privilege. 

Madeline would be able to rest assured that her own investment in the affair paid off. You could feel constant stares on the spectacle you and your showstopper gown made, stealing a fair share of attention from the illustrious guest of honor. 

From the moment you hit the floor and joined the crowd milling about for cocktail hour, you and Steve fell into the pattern together like a team. Get approached, exchange introductions. Steve receives effusive adulation and expressions of gratitude, you get a compliment thrown your way, pictures are taken. Next deep-pocket donor steps up, repeat. It all came back to you very quickly. 

It took longer than you expected for your grandfather to find you. As with all his engagements, he liked to arrive early and leave early, which he claimed was his strategy for packing in an inhuman amount of work into a single day, everyday. And when you saw him, your face lit up with the first genuine smile you'd worn all evening.

“Ah yes, yes. We've been introduced. And had ourselves a good talk earlier.”  Acknowledging Steve with a nod, Grandpa Harry squeezed you tightly around the shoulders and pressed a kiss on your coiffed hair. “It was only right that the Captain be briefed about the priceless treasure being entrusted to him this evening. What did I tell you Steve, is she not the most beautiful woman you've ever had at your arm?”

“Very beautiful,” Steve agreed politely. Because what else was he supposed to say?

“The best and brightest star among all my grandchildren.” Your grandfather patted your cheek with such tenderness, that for a second you could almost believe that his affection for you was his primary motivation behind buying you the world’s most expensive date. Misguided as that intention might still be.

“He sure loves you,” Steve remarked, when your grandfather strolled off to resume his own social rounds. “That's really nice.” He chuckled. “A little open about his favoritism maybe, but still nice.”

“It just comes with the territory. I'm the third out of his fourteen grandkids, but the oldest girl.” You gestured at the floral-design wreath of small but very real diamond clusters that crowned your updo, a hint of irony in your smirk. “Seniority got me the rank of ‘princess’, I suppose.”

“I think you carry the title really well.” This time, you couldn't help the warmth that spread through you at that compliment. You could just tell that Steve didn't have it in him to peddle flattery, even with the effortless charm he wielded. And since sincerity was an out-of-place stranger in this environment, its sudden presence caught you off-guard. 

“Uneasy lies the head,” you murmured. And in that single unguarded moment, the mask slipped off, exposing the raw weariness behind your glamorously painted eyes. You cleared your throat of its hoarseness and batted away your vulnerability. “It really is such a thrill to have you here, Captain. And an honor for me, personally.”

He wasn't buying it, though. He was past all this bullshit now (if he ever was taken by it), including yours. But he looked at you in silence for the longest second before saying gently, “I'm glad you're here with me. I didn't want to come either, but I think we can make a fun evening of it together.”

You gave another delicate ahem, raising your clutch bag over your mouth, very casually, very ladylike, a diversion tactic while you fought off your blush and regained your footing. It became uncomfortably clear to you that you’d never been anywhere with a man like Steve Rogers before. Which meant you didn’t know how to even be around someone so observant, whose eyes bore straight through you, rooting around for candor that just didn’t exist. But the words he offered--Fun. Together.--coaxed your anxiety back down, and it didn’t even take much effort to mount the smile back on your lips.

“Do you dance, Steve?” The band saved you by choosing that moment to strike up a slightly more upbeat tune with a louder volume, signalling the gala’s transition from cocktails to dinner. You slid your hand into the curve of Steve’s arm once more as you followed the crowd’s movement towards the ballroom doors.

This prompted his turn to blush; what should have looked silly on a grown man was sweet on him, you couldn’t help but notice. “Not a lot, I’m afraid.” He lifted his free hand to rest it over yours, its firm, gentle weight pressing your fingers against the muscles of his forearm and setting a thousand butterflies loose in your stomach. “But for you, I'll give it the old college try.”

Your assigned companions at the dinner table were the people you expected to sit with--all family members--and for once you were happy with the arrangement. Your grandfather never brought a date to these events, no one to replace your grandmother since she passed. One chair was automatically vacant, in her honor, so it was acceptable. But two empty seats at a table for eight was a huge no-no, so Madeline grabbed one of her very willing girlfriends to be bumped up to the table of honor and stand in for your father. Harlan and the second wife he'd married during the Blip made up the third couple. Whether by coincidence or design, you were Steve's only choice for decent company at that table. 

And as you thanked him for helping you with your seat--both of you repressing chuckles at the work it took to arrange your billowing skirt just right so you could sit close enough to the table without knocking things over--you realized you'd made up your mind. You were going to have fun this evening. Because all it took to have fun with someone like Steve Rogers was to not even think about it. Just be there with him. 

Even avoiding the topics you were conditioned to never touch at soirees (and that list was even longer for a controversial figure like Captain America), there was plenty to talk about. Dodgers vs Yankees--to which team should his allegiance now lie? Dominick's food truck for the city's best hot dogs, which he promised to try at your endorsement. Big band music--his eyes lit up at your professed love for “Sweet Georgia Brown”, and you gave him Ella Fitzgerald’s live version as another recommendation. The things you bonded with your grandfather over were suddenly proving useful in connecting you with, well, technically another old man. 

The only time you and Steve stopped talking was when the speeches started, and all attention was focused on the stage where foundation members trotted up one by one to remind everyone of the charity's mission--health services and support for US veterans--and thank a laundry list of esteemed partners and contributors. The spotlight was directed to your family's table several times, to acknowledge your grandfather for opening his deep pockets, and Captain Rogers for lending his face. Both were met with enthusiastic applause and plenty more camera action. 

“Can I ask you something?” You leaned towards Steve while a duo of waiters circled around the table to switch out the soup course for the salmon entrees. 

“Anything,” Steve said amiably, putting down his fork to give you his full attention. 

“What made you agree to participate in this event?” You gestured around you. “Something about this charity in particular?”

“The timing was right, first of all, meaning I actually had the time to do it. Secondly, I've met a lot of people who've directly received aid from the foundation. I've heard only good things about the work it does. But most importantly, I said yes because I was asked.” Steve shook his head and chuckled. “I don't know why people assume I get called on a lot for things like this, like they confuse me for Stark.”

“And the part where they auctioned off a date with you?”

“I found it strange,” Steve admitted. “But I wanted to do whatever little extra I could to help raise donations. They told me your grandfather won it with a very generous, record-breaking bid, but wouldn't say the exact amount.” 

One and a half million. You briefly considered revealing the price tag to him, knowing this man had absolutely no ego to inflate, but he chose that moment to lock eyes with you for the first time, his gaze so soft it knocked your breath away. 

“When your uncle pointed you out to me and I saw you at the top of those stairs, that was when the idea seemed absolutely crazy to me. How does it make sense that someone paid for me to spend an evening with a woman like you?”

He meant well by it, you knew he did, from the way he said “woman like you”, and from that look in his eyes, like he could hardly believe you were next to him. But you were so hopelessly flustered that you went into defensive mode, stammering, “It was my family… my grandfather's idea. I didn't ask him to… I knew nothing about it.”

You felt Steve’s hand envelop yours underneath the table, a prolonged touch hidden from prying eyes. “I thanked Harry for his donations when we were introduced earlier at the start of the evening.” He glanced across the table where your grandfather was squinting through his glasses at his phone screen. “I'll need to go back and thank him again for the other things I didn't expect to be so grateful for.”

You wiggled your fingers slightly in the cage of his hand, trying to reciprocate the touch, to somehow communicate that you too were grateful to be enjoying a much more pleasant evening than you could have ever imagined. 

But then Steve withdrew his hand when he had to turn his attention to his left, towards your uncle who chose that moment to bring up questions about the Avengers compound being rebuilt upstate (naturally of special interest to a real estate magnate). The interruption, the abrupt loss of contact, broke the spell. Snapped your senses back in place. Your fingers curled into a fist, nail extensions leaving red crescents in your palm. What the hell are you doing? You’re being ridiculous. 

Two seats away, you spotted your uncle’s new wife Jackie, whom you’d met only once, rise from the table with purse in hand. Impulse kicked in and you fumbled for your own clutch. “Ladies room…” You shook your head and waved Steve off when he started to rise to help you up, feeling your frustration with yourself in danger of spilling over to him.  “I’ll be right back,” you mumbled, and swept off in a rustle of voluminous fabric before a word could leave the surprised gape on his lips. 

Your original intention was to tag along after Jackie, and make the bathroom break seem more valid, but when she stopped to greet a familiar face at a nearby table, you kept on moving.  Struggling to weave through the ballroom while managing the circumference of your dress, you halted just in time to avoid colliding with a waiter carrying two water pitchers. 

“Oh. Excuse me,” you said, bowing your head and moving to squeeze past him. But the waiter stepped aside in the same direction, fully blocking your way. You looked up and found the most scorching, most hate-filled glare focused directly at you. You were able to take only one step back when the man lifted his hands above your head and upended both pitchers, sending a torrent of ice water splashing down on you. 

As you shrieked and gasped and sputtered blindly, you felt something hard knock solidly against your chest, with enough force to knock you to the floor. Your ankle gave a cruel twist as you went down on your stilettos, and you crashed down awkwardly, landing hard on one elbow. 

Sounds of chaos broke around you, but as you tried to lift yourself up, you saw only one thing: another waiter--female this time--swing a large silver serving bowl in your direction.  A shower of mush mixed in viscous liquid struck you right on the face, some of it entering your mouth, coating your hair and splattering all over the bare skin of your shoulders and arms. Above the cries of alarm, you most clearly heard the screeching and hooting of your attackers as they stood over you, raising their arms in celebration of their success. 

“Fuck yeah! That’s right! How does that feel, princess? Let’s get THIS viral!”

The man actually bent down towards you to make sure you’d heard him clearly, while he shouted for the rest of the room to hear. 

“Just kill yourself, you spoiled cunt! You and your entire garbage family! Useless, toxic pieces of shit!  Tell your father--!”

The rest of the words were cut off by shouting, or maybe just drowned out by the buzzing in your ears. You curled your legs up, shivering. You were cold, yet burning at the same time. The only thing you could do was to swipe the goop from your face, trying to see better, trying to breathe, trying not to think about what you tasted in your mouth. 

Suddenly you were lifted off the ground by a pair of strong arms. And there he was, the last person you wanted there, the worst person to see you in your humiliation, carrying you off. Steve, asking if you were hurt while simultaneously telling you, “It’s okay.” 

“Get her out of here, now! Go!” your grandfather’s voice boomed out, louder and angrier than you’ve ever heard it. 

You caught just a fleeting glimpse of Steve’s face when a member of your family’s security team extracted you from his arms, but the memory of his expression would haunt you for weeks. You clung on to the nameless bodyguard and buried your face into his shoulder and finally let yourself dissolve into a bigger, sobbing mess as he carried you like a package straight into a waiting car. There couldn’t have been a worse way for Steve to find out, but at least he now had the truth without you having to admit it to him. 

You were no princess. And you especially didn’t deserve to be his princess.

To be continued...

PART TWO: Work in Progress

Want more Steve? SotWK's MCU Masterlist

[edwardian-girl-next-door]

Wedding dress, c.1901

Embroidered lace, wool blend, silk blend, tulle.

via grand rapids public museum

[katerinasas]

call it what you want 🩰

coriolanus snow x fem!reader

in which mrs snow finds something she must keep. and who his coriolanus to tell her no?

-

the garden behind the presidents mansion was beautiful, no doubt about it. coriolanus snow married his wife back there and he watched her from the window of their bedroom as she worked in it in all her free time and whenever the uv was above a 7.

he insisted he hire a gardener to “protect her pretty hands” but she declined over and over again. it was her outlet. her one “real” hobby that didn’t involve hiding away in the grand library coriolanus built for her.

large green bushes she trimmed so delicately and the stone path she’d managed to put in place her self. orange, red, pink, and yellow flowers everywhere with small blue ones trickled without. coriolanus had put a picnic table in it where they ate on occasion.

the only thing she didn’t like was the fence that guarded it to keep people and cameras out. it wasn’t very pretty, but as first lady secret services insisted, and so did coriolanus. it kept her hard work from public eye and left it only to be seen in photos inside magazines that didn’t do it justice. but the fence seemed to have failed.

kneeled in dirt, her gold necklace with a ‘C’ engraved in it hanging over it, she planted strawberry seeds in hopes they’d actually be good this year. focused on what she was doing, trying to avoid a repeat of last years berries, her focus dropped as she heard a weak meow. she turned around, only to hear it again. she stood, wiping her dirty hands on her pants, walking along the path in hopes of finding the source when suddenly she saw her.

a small kitten. she was light brown with dark spots, almost like a cheetah. mrs snow had not a clue how the animal had gotten in, but it must’ve been fate, she thought. “hi,” she whispered, kneeling down and gently reaching forward. the kitten meowed and she took that as her way of saying “yes, you can pick me up.”

she held the kitten all day long, leaving her in her lap when she read and holding her in one arm as she helped one of the snow’s maids, clarissa, with a task. she was already in love with the small animal as she waited for her husband to get home, ready to beg and plead to keep it.

“hmm,” she hummed gently to the kitten. she sat in her lap at the piano, mrs snow’s fingers gently playing soft chords as she stared down at her. “what about… lorelei?” the kitten stood and did a little spin bringing a laugh out of her. “you like that?”

“like what?” coriolanus echoed from the foyer, dropping his keys on the table. “i didn’t know you were having company, darli-”

“suprise,” she said with a smile, standing from the bench, holding the kitten to her chest. “i found her in the garden. i don’t know how she got in but,” she frowned, running a finger down her nose. “it rained last night, it must’ve been awful.”

coriolanus stood over her, a firm hand on her shoulder. “well, you must know we can’t keep it,” he said as if it was obvious. his hand brushed over his wife’s head, refusing to acknowledge the cat because he was sure if he did he’d give in.

“no i don’t. why can’t we?” she moved out from his touch, holding the kitten up to his eyes. “please, coryo?”

“no,” he swallowed, doing his best not to give into her temptation. they couldn’t have a cat. it didn’t seem… scary to him. not presidential, not like the pet of a man who led a country and 12 districts.

but his wife was persistent. she frowned up at him, holding the cat to her chest as she purred. “coryo,” she whined. “look at her. she’s just a baby. her mom was out of sight, i looked, and she already likes me. she even picked out her name.”

“i said-”

“please?” she gave him her best puppy eyes, her free hand on his chest.

coriolanus bit the inside of his cheek before sighing. “i guess.” he stumbled back as his wife pulled him into a side hug, kissing his cheek over and over again. red lipstick prints covered his face as she offered him the cat which he took with a small smirk. “what name did she pick?”

“lorelei,” she smiled.

“hm,” he nodded, holding the creature awkwardly. “i like it.” after a few moments he looked up. “you’re impossible to say no to, you know that?”

his wife only smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder. “you love me.”

“you’re a master manipulator and i’m an easy target or i love you, call it what you want.”

“i’ll call it you love me,” she said, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him softly.

“then i guess i’ll call it that, too,” he said, his arm holding her close to him as the pair smiled at the new member of their family.

saw this kitty on pinterest and knew what i had to do.

I LOVE CATS!!!!!!!!!

#cantspellcatswithoutTS

[lalathemediterraneanmermaid]

Ikepri reigns as real life countries

Hi there again my dear Belles. As we all know, ikemen prince reigns ar based on real life countries, or at least, that's what it looks like, specially knowing character's names, I mean, we have Chevalier (french), Von Obsidian (dutch - german), Ricci (italian), Yves (french), Kagari Amagase (japanese)... But, even though some kingdoms are easily "recognised" in real life countries, there are some others that are not that clear. That's why I've decided to match each kingdom to a country. This is just my opinion, so feel free to expose yours. Hope you enjoy little rabbits!!!!!!

Rhodolite - France

Romantic and Elegant Atmosphere: France is often seen as the epitome of romance, known for its picturesque landscapes, charming cafés, and the enchanting ambiance of cities like Paris. Rhodolite reflects this romantic and elegant atmosphere through the bookshops, the taverns, the little plaza with the fountain, the market, the pastisseries, the landscapes, the town… creating a kingdom where love stories unfold against a backdrop of beautiful scenery and intimate settings. The kingdom features elements like festivals or traditions that celebrate love, happiness, freedom and union.

Art, Fashion, Culture and roses: France has a rich artistic heritage, being the birthplace of influential movements such as Impressionism and home to iconic fashion houses. Rhodolite emphasizes this connection by showcasing characters who pay close attention to this type of visual and external things, such as Nokto with the jewelry, fashion, perfumes, etc. The presence of roses as a symbol of beauty and love could be significant in Rhodolite, with gardens filled with rose varieties and floral motifs present in everything, echoing the French appreciation for aesthetics, and also, it is known that France’s national flower is the rose.

Royal Legacy and Noble Etiquette: France’s history is steeped in royal legacy, with grand palaces, elaborate courts, and a system of noble etiquette that has influenced many cultures. Rhodolite portrays a kingdom that maintains these traditions, highlighting a royal family that embodies elegance, grace, and responsibility. The interactions among the nobility reflect the formal customs and social hierarchies reminiscent of historical French courts, adding depth to character relationships and political dynamics.

Architectural Beauty and Palaces: French architecture is renowned for its beauty, with iconic structures like the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, and the palaces of Versailles and Fontainebleau. Rhodolite showcases stunning architectural designs, blending various styles like Gothic, Baroque, and Rococo, for example seen in the palace. The kingdom is dotted with grand mansions and beautifully designed public spaces, reflecting the importance of architectural beauty in French culture and serving as a backdrop for significant events and gatherings.

Revolutionary Spirit: France is known for its revolutionary spirit, marked by events like the French Revolution, which reshaped the nation and inspired movements worldwide. Rhodolite embodies this revolutionary ethos by portraying characters who advocate for change, challenge the status quo, and strive for social justice. The kingdom is depicted as a place where ideas of liberty, equality, and fraternity resonate, driving the narrative of personal and societal transformation.

Obsidian - Germany

Strength, discipline and Military Power: Germany is historically recognized for its strong military tradition and disciplined approach to governance and society. Obsidian embodies these qualities by depicting a kingdom with a robust military presence, emphasizing values such as honor, loyalty, and strategic prowess. Characters in Obsidian reflect the disciplined nature associated with German culture, portraying dedication to duty and strength in adversity.

Industrial Powerhouse and Innovation: Germany is renowned for its industrial strength, being home to leading companies in sectors like automotive, engineering, and technology. Obsidian highlights this aspect by showcasing a kingdom that values innovation and technological advancement, I mean they “invented” the guns. The presence of skilled craftsmen, inventors, and engineers are prominent, illustrating a society that thrives on progress and economic power, mirroring Germany's historical emphasis on efficiency and quality.

Cold and Austere Atmosphere: Germany’s cultural identity often includes a perception of coldness or stoicism, reflected in its architectural styles, weather, and social interactions. Obsidian captures this austere atmosphere through its landscapes, character interactions, and overall aesthetic. The kingdom is characterized by a serious demeanor, where emotions are expressed more subtly, especially fear, emphasizing strength and resilience over overt displays of warmth.

Central European Strategic Position: Germany’s central location in Europe has historically made it a crossroads for trade, culture, and politics. Obsidian represents this strategic significance by showcasing its role as a threat for other kingdoms that surround the obsidianites. Characters navigate complex political landscapes, reflecting Germany's historical importance in shaping European dynamics and alliances.

Architectural and Cultural Grandeur: Germany boasts a rich architectural heritage, with castles, cathedrals, and modern structures that showcase its historical and cultural grandeur. Obsidian features majestic buildings, representing the kingdom’s power and strength.

Benitoite - Italy

Luxurious Lifestyle and Grandeur: Italy is synonymous with luxury and grandeur, known for its opulent fashion, exquisite art, and historical monuments. Benitoite embodies this luxurious lifestyle by portraying a kingdom filled with elegant palaces, lavish celebrations, and a strong emphasis on beauty and aesthetics. Characters dress in fine fabrics and adorn themselves with beautiful accessories, reflecting Italy’s rich cultural heritage in fashion and art.

A nation benefited by the sea: Italy’s long coastline has significantly influenced its culture, economy, and way of life. Benitoite reflects this connection to the sea through its geography, highlighting vibrant coastal cities and a thriving maritime culture. The kingdom showcases bustling ports, trade routes, and a lifestyle that embraces the ocean, with characters engaging in activities like fishing, sailing, and enjoying the beach, mirroring Italy’s deep-rooted relationship with the Mediterranean Sea.

Gastronomy and Sophistication (the best of the best): Italian cuisine is renowned worldwide for its richness and diversity, emphasizing high-quality ingredients and sophisticated flavors. Benitoite emphasizes this culinary heritage by showcasing elaborate feasts, traditional cooking methods, and a strong focus on fresh, local produce. Characters engage in the art of cooking, like Silvio when he swapped bodies with Rio, celebrating gastronomy as an essential part of their culture, reflecting Italy’s status as a culinary capital.

"The cradle of commerce": Historically, Italy has been a central hub for commerce and trade, particularly during the Renaissance when cities like Venice and Florence thrived economically. Benitoite embodies this spirit of commerce, showcasing vibrant marketplaces, trade fairs, and a culture that values entrepreneurship and innovation, I mean, look at Silvio, nothing more to add. Characters are depicted as merchants, traders, or skilled artisans, highlighting the importance of commerce in the kingdom’s prosperity.

Rich Alcoholic Heritage: Italy is famous for its wine production, with regions like Tuscany and Piedmont known for their exceptional vineyards and rich traditions surrounding wine-making. Benitoite reflects this alcoholic heritage by incorporating wine and other alcoholic beverages culture into its narrative, showcasing characters who appreciate fine liqueurs, attend harvest festivals, and engage in alcohol making traditions. This connection to Italy’s rich alcoholic heritage could also be reflected in the kingdom's celebrations, where drinking plays a significant role in social gatherings.

Jade - The Netherlands

Natural Beauty and Green Landscapes: The Netherlands is renowned for its picturesque landscapes, characterized by lush green fields, beautiful flower gardens (notably tulip fields), and tranquil waterways. Jade embodies this natural beauty, showcasing a kingdom filled with vibrant flora and serene environments, where characters are deeply connected to nature. The kingdom features breathtaking gardens, parks, and countryside, reflecting the Dutch appreciation for their scenic surroundings.

Rich Herbal Traditions and Innovation: The Netherlands has a long history of herbal medicine and innovation in horticulture, with a significant focus on cultivating plants for medicinal and culinary purposes. Jade highlights this aspect by incorporating herbal traditions, where characters utilize local herbs for healing, cooking, or crafting potions. The kingdom is portrayed as a center for herbal innovation, showcasing advanced gardening techniques and a thriving market for medicinal herbs, mirroring the Dutch reputation in this field.

Cultural Heritage, Tolerance and Neutrality: The Netherlands is known for its cultural diversity and historical commitment to tolerance and neutrality in international affairs. Jade reflects this spirit by portraying a kingdom that embraces various cultures (obsidianite refugees) and ideas, fostering an environment of inclusivity and understanding. Characters from different backgrounds coexist peacefully, contributing to a rich tapestry of traditions, beliefs, and customs within the kingdom.

Connected Communities: The Dutch are famous for their strong sense of community and interconnectedness, often seen in their cooperative agricultural practices and social networks. Jade emphasizes this sense of connection by showcasing tight-knit communities where people work together for the common good, support each other, and celebrate local traditions. The kingdom features festivals, markets, and communal events that highlight the importance of relationships and collaboration among its inhabitants.

Wildlife: The Netherlands is home to a diverse array of wildlife, including various bird species, insects, and unique ecosystems like marshes and wetlands. Jade reflects this biodiversity by incorporating elements of wildlife into its narrative, where characters have a deep respect for nature and actively engage in conservation efforts. The kingdom showcases natural habitats and characters who are passionate about protecting the environment, mirroring the Dutch commitment to sustainability and conservation.

Tanzanite - Persia

Historical Influence and Rich Heritage: Persia has a rich historical legacy, with significant contributions to art, literature, and science throughout the ages. Tanzanite embodies this heritage by portraying a kingdom that honors its past through storytelling, art, and tradition. The kingdom includes historical sites, ancient temples, and a culture that celebrates its roots, reflecting the grandeur of Persian civilization and its impact on the world.

Persian Aesthetics and Ornamentation: Persian art is renowned for its intricate designs, vibrant colors, and detailed craftsmanship. Tanzanite captures this aesthetic through its architecture, clothing, and decorative arts. The kingdom features elaborate palaces adorned with mosaics, beautiful gardens inspired by Persian design, and characters dressed in richly embroidered garments, showcasing the beauty and sophistication associated with Persian culture.

Philosophy and Mysticism: Persian culture has a long tradition of philosophical thought and mysticism, with influential poets and thinkers like Rumi and Omar Khayyam exploring themes of love, spirituality, and the human experience. Tanzanite reflects this depth by incorporating elements of philosophy and mysticism into its narrative, I mean, Azel is portrayed as a God. Characters engage in discussions about existence, love, and magic, drawing inspiration from Persian literature and thought, creating a reflective and introspective atmosphere in the kingdom.

Trade and Cultural Exchange: Historically, Persia was a vital hub for trade along the Silk Road, facilitating the exchange of goods, ideas, and cultures. Tanzanite could mirror this aspect by showcasing a vibrant marketplace where diverse cultures converge, highlighting the kingdom's role as a center for commerce and cultural interaction. Characters might be seen as traders, merchants, or travelers who bring different perspectives and traditions to the kingdom, enriching its cultural tapestry. Let's not forget the trade relationship between Azel and Silvio...

Economy: Persia was known for its wealth derived from trade, agriculture, and craftsmanship. Tanzanite could have reflected this economic strength by portraying a kingdom that values trade and innovation. The kingdom might have  thrived on the production of unique goods, such as textiles, spices, or artisan crafts, showcasing a dynamic economy that supports its inhabitants and fosters prosperity. But the reality that they have shown us is that they are not as economically powerful as they seem. It almost looks like the greater houses are pretty rich while the rest of the population might live in poverty.

Kogyouku - Japan

Cultural Heritage and Tradition: Japan has a rich cultural heritage characterized by traditional arts, crafts, festivals, and rituals that have been preserved for centuries. Kogyoku seems to embody this sense of tradition through its customs, ceremonies, and the way its inhabitants celebrate their history. The kingdom highlights tea ceremonies, calligraphy, and traditional music, emphasizing the importance of honoring one’s ancestors and cultural practices, thus creating a deep sense of identity.

Sakura trees: Sakura (cherry blossom) trees are iconic in Japanese culture, symbolizing beauty, the transient nature of life, and the arrival of spring. Kogyoku incorporates these trees into its landscape, creating scenes of breathtaking beauty during the cherry blossom season. Characters participate in hanami (flower-viewing) festivals, celebrating the fleeting beauty of the blossoms, which aligns with the Japanese appreciation for nature and the passing of time.

Japanese aesthetic: The Japanese aesthetic emphasizes simplicity, naturalness, and the beauty of imperfection, often seen in art forms like wabi-sabi. Kogyoku reflects this aesthetic through its architecture, gardens, and crafts. The kingdom features tranquil gardens with carefully placed rocks and water elements, understated yet elegant clothing, and art that embraces asymmetry and simplicity, capturing the essence of Japanese beauty.

Civil war: The Sengoku period (1467-1603) was a time of social upheaval, political intrigue, and military conflict in Japan, characterized by powerful clans vying for control. Kogyoku draws inspiration from this historical context, incorporating themes of rivalry, strategy, and the quest for power among noble families. Characters embody the spirit of samurai warriors, showcasing their loyalty, courage, and the complexities of allegiance during a tumultuous era, enriching the kingdom’s narrative with historical depth.

Focus on Honor: Honor is a central tenet of Japanese culture, particularly within the samurai ethos. Kogyoku reflects this focus on honor through its characters’ values, emphasizing loyalty, duty, and respect. The kingdom has a code of conduct that guides the behavior of its inhabitants, with stories centered around noble sacrifices and the importance of maintaining one’s honor in the face of challenges. This aspect resonates deeply with the samurai legacy, highlighting the significance of integrity and personal honor within the kingdom.

Achroite - Sweden/Finland/Iceland

Cultural Coldness and Reserve: The Nordic countries are often perceived as having a cultural disposition characterized by a certain reserve or coldness, particularly in social interactions. Achroite embodies this aspect through its characters, who exhibit a calm and composed demeanor, reflecting the understated communication style of the region. This cultural coldness can be portrayed as a strength, emphasizing the value of inner strength and emotional control, which allows for deep connections beneath the surface.

Commitment to Justice and Equality: Sweden, Finland, and Iceland are known for their strong commitment to social justice, equality, and human rights. Achroite reflects this ethos by showcasing a kingdom that prioritizes fairness and equal opportunities for all its citizens. The kingdom has laws and systems that are pretty strict, emphasizing the importance of social equity in governance and community life, creating a narrative centered around progressive values.

Strong-Minded and Resilient Individuals: The people of the Nordic countries are often characterized by their resilience and strong-mindedness, adapting to the challenges of their harsh environments. Achroite embodies this quality through its characters, who display determination, independence, and resourcefulness in overcoming obstacles. The kingdom might celebrate stories of individuals who stand firm in their beliefs and face adversity with courage, emphasizing the strength of character that defines its inhabitants.

Wisdom and Rationality: Nordic cultures value education, critical thinking, and rational decision-making, often relying on informed discourse and logical reasoning to address societal issues. Achroite reflects this emphasis on wisdom and rationality by portraying characters who approach challenges thoughtfully and analytically. The kingdom is depicted as a center for learning and intellectual exchange, where knowledge and wisdom are cherished, fostering a culture of informed dialogue and progress.

Law and Order as Pillars of Society: In the Nordic countries, law and order are fundamental to maintaining a peaceful and stable society. Achroite mirrors this principle by showcasing a kingdom where justice, rules, and civic responsibility are highly valued. The narrative highlights the significance of laws that promote societal harmony and the role of institutions in upholding order. Characters take on roles as guardians of justice, working to ensure that the kingdom remains a safe and orderly place for all its inhabitants.

And that's it my loves!!!! Hope you've enjoyed this quite long but interesting post!!!! Bibble loves you XOXO.

[roguerogerss]

The President; ‘Something Sweet.’

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Reader

W/C: 2.1k

Warnings: SMUT!!

(HEY! this is the second part to The President, part 3 will be out soon so plssss stay tuned, hope u luv it, luv you, bye) (requests r open! send me stuff here)

-

“Where did you go?"

Clemensia snatched your arm and stopped you in your place. You'd been trying to ignore all of the girls, weaving your way in and out of the crowd, accepting the odd congratulations or hug as you went, you thought you might find Tigris and stick by her until at least dinner time. You wanted nothing more than to be at home.

"Oh." You started but stopped short. If you even stuttered you knew she'd know, your legs were shaking and, if she looked at you closely, she'd be able to see that your hair wasn't nearly as smooth as it was an hour ago, and your lipstick had smudged over your chin and you'd spent longer than you should've trying to wipe it off. "Just had a few photos to be taken, Coryo wanted them out of the way."

Clemensia turned you to face her, gripping your forearms as she eyed you suspiciously. You held your breath a moment, she wasn't the type to keep her mouth shut. "Of course. Photos."

She was smirking at you, and you nearly hung your head in shame out of pure instinct. You teetered backwards slightly in your heels, and Clemensia barely stifled a laugh. "Did these photos involve you being bent over something?"

"Clemmie!" You burst out, hands clamping over your mouth, cheeks burning red. And then you couldn't help but laugh. "Don't say anything, please."

"I won't!" She laughed and took hold of your hand, starting to lead you back towards the rest of your school friends. “I didn’t say anything when you’d disappear for every free hour we had in school, did I?”

“Clemensia!”

Okay! I won’t say anything. Promise. It's your day, and Coryo's President now. I can’t say anything."

You laughed as you approached the other girls, Clemmie was your friend, as much as you hated to admit it, and you did actually like spending time with her, after you got over the initial idea of it. The other girls, however, were a different story.

"Where did you guys go?" Lysistrata whined when you rejoined the circle. She wasn’t the worst of the bunch, but, god, could she moan about anything. "Felix had an interview and they basically said that he actually would've won, had Doctor Gaul's vote not counted-"

"Well, her vote did count." Clemensia defended and sent you a small smile. "Why dwell on it, Lyssie?"

"Because it's unfair." Livia practically snarled, lip curled upwards like a growling dog. "Coriolanus will be president until he either steps down, or dies off. And we all know he won't step down, so none of us will even have a chance at it."

"You wouldn't have a chance at anything anyway, Livia. Festus is a slob." You snapped. You'd remembered why you so hated going to school, and then University with these girls. Livia especially always seemed to bring out the worst in you. You heard Clemensia sigh, and Lysistrata sucked in a breath to be held.

Livia looked as though she was about to lunge for you. "He is not a slob!" She threw her hands in the air and started to say something else, when Clemensia butted in, to avoid a public argument between two powerful men's wives.

"Ladies!" She held her arms out between the two of you in a calming manner, and you almost scoffed and walked away from them, but you knew you had to be here. For Coryo, you thought. "Let's just all be friends, okay? You managed it for seventeen years before today, you can certainly last another two hours."

"Oh, look!" Lysistrata pointed excitedly at the grand hall, drawing the attention of the conversation to something else entirely. "I think we've to go for dinner, now. Aren't you all excited? It'll be lovely."

You were definitely excited. The University provided three square meals a day, if you stayed long enough - you always did - but, since you'd graduated, it had been back to Tigris' cabbage soup and the occasional luxury like a loaf of bread or some beef mince, if Coriolanus helped Doctor Gaul with something she believed warranted an extra payout. The food was guaranteed to be something special, and, even better, you could leave your school friends behind for at least an hour and sit by Coryo instead.

An avox appeared by your small group, and gestured for you all to follow them, leading the gathering of wives to the dinner hall first. Clemensia, Livia, and Lysistrata were positioned at a table together, each one chair apart from the other, and you almost laughed out loud when Livia's scowl deepened further and Clemmie sighed disappointedly at her space between the other two.

After seating the three other women, the avox gestured for you to follow them even further, to a long, rectangular table overlooking a sea of smaller round ones. The hall really was magnificent, all marble and hardwood, a string quartet playing in the far corner, and Coriolanus' Grandma'am's roses decorating each table, in small glass vases. You smiled at the touch, assuming it was Tigris' doing, Coryo would love it.

"Thank you." You nodded to the avox as they tapped a chair for you to sit in. The table was laid with a white tablecloth and lace runner, and six plates, with dainty little place cards placed neatly atop them. The ones on either side of you read Tigris Snow and President Coriolanus Snow. You assumed the one next to Coryo would've been for the Grandma'am and the other two chairs for other government officials.

The room started to fill up with people, celebrities, guests, reporters, game makers. You tried to make out anyone familiar in the sea of people, but faces blurred into one another, distant chatter became almost deafening, and you found that, not only could you not decipher one person from another, but you'd given yourself a headache trying to do so.

The chair beside you pulled back, startling you from your squint-eyed staring, and then Tigris appeared, beaming and touching a hand to your shoulder. "He did it!" She cried and you embraced, squealing as you did so.

“I know.” You mused. “Did you do the roses?”

Tigris nodded, a satisfied smile crossing her face. “Yes, do you like them? I thought it’d be nice, something familiar.”

“They’re beautiful, he’ll love them.” You plucked one of the stems from the vase in front of you, inspecting the perfect flower, so familiar. You’d always loved the Grandma’am’s roses, almost as much as Coryo did.

You were only able to talk for a moment, Tigris complimenting the way you'd done his hair, you gushing over his suit. You loved Tigris, really. But the national anthem began playing, and then there were cameras on you both and you tried to remember to sit up straight and keep your chin down.

The entire room erupted into cheers and claps and cries as Coriolanus entered, looking dazzling as ever. You even noticed Livia giving a hand, which sent a sense of satisfaction through you. "There he is! Our brand new President, it's Coriolanus Snow!" Lucky Flickerman had appeared out of nowhere again, and you could just hear him over the sound of the crowd. "And he's making his way over to his gorgeous first lady! I heard they've only been married three days."

You stifled a laugh at Lucky's overly dramatic performance, and then you felt almost self conscious, seeing all of the people looking towards you, the cameras pointed in your direction. Tigris touched a gentle hand to your arm to soothe you, and you just about managed a grin as Coryo approached.

He sat down next to you and you found his hand placed on the small of your back, thumb rubbing soothing circles just beside your spine. You let out a sigh of relief and smiled until the cameras turned away and the starting course of the meal served. "That was good, darling." Coryo spoke quietly. "Are you okay? You seem nervous."

"I am nervous." You turned toward him and placed a hand on his knee. "I'll get over it, though. First day jitters."

"Of course you will." And then he leaned down to whisper in your ear, hand creeping up your thigh under the cover of the tablecloth. "What do you think I could do to calm you down, hm?"

"Coryo." You hid a small smile and wrapped your fingers around his wrist. "People are watching."

"All the more fun." You turned to face him, noticing the half-concealed grin playing on his lips. Your eyes flickered out towards the crowd and cameras, guests were all chattering and eating, but the cameras stayed put, and Lucky continued his constant commentary of you. You imagined him, broadcasting to the entirety of Panem, that the brand new President was fingering his wife at the dinner table.

Coryo's hand wandered up even further, underneath your skirt, into your underwear. You sucked in a breath and made a sort of uncomfortable grunt, biting back a whine as two familiar fingers pressed into you. You gripped onto the tablecloth and Tigris turned to you, concern in her eyes. "Are you okay?" She asked and you nodded, too enthusiastically.

"I'm okay." You answered, but you knew your face wasn't communicating what you said, and Tigris' hand was pressed to your forehead before you could tell her again.

"You're hot, have you drank enough water today? And you're flushed, too-" Tigris was in the middle of pouring some water into the glass in front of you when Coryo cut in.

"She's okay, Tigris." He smiled at his cousin. "Wasn't feeling too well last night, were you, love?"

You shook your head, trying to act convincing while Coriolanus' fingers continued their assault inside of you. "Oh, honey! Well, get some rest tonight, okay?"

And then Tigris had turned back to her conversation with the Grandma'am, and you made a mental note to continue the narrative that you were sick, at least in front of Tigris. And then you noticed that Lucky was staring right at the two of you, massive grin on his face, as always, and the camera beside him was fixated on your table.

"Coryo, the cameras!" You hissed, but he silenced you, curling his fingers against your sensitive spot. You made another strangled sound, but Tigris didn't turn around this time, too invested in conversation with the Grandma'am.

"Shh," Coryo comforted you, nuzzling his forehead against your cheek in a way that could've been mistaken for a loving gesture for the cameras. "Let them see, honey. Just be quiet for me. My good girl."

He curled his fingers faster inside of you, so that you had to clamp your hand on your thigh to stop your legs from shaking aggressively, every now and again he'd lean down and say something like, "You're doing so well." or "So good for me." and your head would spin.

"Coryo," You whispered, a breathy moan falling from your lips, almost loud enough for everyone at the table to hear. "I'm getting close, you know how loud I get."

Dessert was being served, now, and you were almost glad that the avoxes didn't have tongues, because you were certain that the one placing your lemon tart in front of you had made a strange face whilst doing so.

Coryo's fingers brushed your sensitive spot once again, and you felt his hand on your back as it arched off of the chair, dimming the appearance of your arousal to the public. "I know. Not going to let you finish, not yet."

He pressed a short kiss to your temple and then pulled his fingers out of you, at which you huffed and pouted, he felt his cock throb, seeing you looking so bratty.

"Coryo!" You whined, bottom lip still jutting out. "That's not fair."

"Isn't it?" He asked, smirk playing on his face. He made you watch as he looked you straight in the eye, lifted his fingers to his lips - still glistening with your slick - and sucked them clean. "Mmh, so sweet, my girl. Now, I want you to go home, familiarise yourself with the mansion - you'll love it, by the way - and wait for me to get there. No touching yourself, you know the punishment for that."

A small smile grew on your face as you nodded. Coryo kissed your face, picked up your dessert fork and handed it to you, gesturing to the food in front of you. As you took your first bite, he slid his own across to the Senator sat next to him. The larger man looked at him with confusion in his eyes.

"You can take mine, already had something sweet."