#and one of the best Cinderella adaptations out there

[idiosyncraticrednebula]

I will never understand why some people feel the need to defend the indefensible.

[buckets-and-trees]

Huffily Ever After: A CindereLloyd Story [1/?]

Chapter One - The Masquerade Characters/Pairings: Lloyd Hansen x curvy Female!Reader Word Count: 5k Summary: After paying your dues and working hard for a few years, you're finally invited to be part of the delegation Nexus PR is sending to the industries banner international conference. It's the opportunity you've been waiting for to fuel the next steps in your career. Over the coming days, you're eager to take every chance and make every connection you can and not waste a single moment. And it all starts with a pre-conference masquerade...

Content/Warnings: modern Cinderella adaptation, unknown identities (later enemies to lovers), mention of the past death of a parental figure in passing, toxic coworkers, eventual smut

Notes: Final week of my Countdown to Chris-mas! This is an idea I had a really really really really really really long time ago, but it's just sort of been waiting in the wings and biding its time with my muse. My intention was for this to be a longer fic between 8-10k, but ... when I got to the end of the first night, it was 5k, so ANOTHER CHAPTERED FIC, HERE WE GO! I know nobody asked for yet another WIP from me, but alas. It is what it is.

A/N 2: Credit to @stargazingfangirl18 for title inspiration!

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This wasn’t only your first international conference, it was your first professional conference, period.

For it to be held in Paris was already a dream.

To be on your way to a masquerade at the chateaux of Versailles as a prelude to the conference was nothing short of magical.

Even if it was being sponsored by Hansen Global Digital Industries.

The company was a titan in the industry, both in size and in reputation. While they weren’t your direct competitors - the small firm you worked for was nowhere near the size - they were one of the top and used for benchmarking across the board by many. The Global, Digital, and International in their title basically meant they did everything.

While the masquerade was billed as a social, everyone knew it was also a thinly veiled and prime opportunity for networking that could lead to potential poaching. But since invitations for attendance were extended to everyone registered for the conference, it was more than just Hansen Global who planned to scope out prospects and sharpen their teeth among the masses tonight.

As the taxi wound its way through the streets of Paris and then out of the city, you nervously adjusted your mask. It was an elegant creation of black lace and gold filigree, a last-minute purchase from a boutique near your hotel. You hoped it would be enough to fit in with the crowd of industry elites. You'd spent more than you had wanted on the costume, but reasoned it was an investment. First impressions counted, especially in a crowd like this.

The taxi ahead of you turned a corner, and you caught a glimpse of Gus's laughing face through the window. Your stomach twisted with a pang of envy. In the chaos of trying to get everyone from your firm’s delegation into taxis at the same time, you’d been split from your work best friend Gus and instead landed in the last taxi with the last two people you wanted. Gus, with his easy charm and quick wit, would have made the perfect companion for the nerve-wracking journey to Versailles. Instead, you were wedged in the backseat between Anya and Holly, their silence as thick and suffocating as the heavy perfume they both wore.

Anya stared out the window, her crimson lips pursed in a permanent expression of boredom. Her mask, a stunning creation of peacock feathers and Swarovski crystals, probably cost more than your entire wardrobe - not just what you had on tonight, your entire wardrobe back home. Holly, on your other side, tapped away furiously on her phone, no doubt already networking before you'd even arrived.

The three of you worked together on the same team, and they treated you as an unwanted little step-sister, leaving you to catch most of the work for the projects as the rookie, so you could learn.

And learn, you did. As much as you knew and hated that you were given nearly everything while they did nearly nothing and blatantly shared and stole credit, you didn’t complain. You were no stranger to grinding and working for every scrap and opportunity that you could take. But you also didn’t complain because there was no one to complain to. Your team lead thought Anya and Holly could do no wrong and made it clear she felt put upon that you’d been shifted to her team when the team you had originally been hired to had been dissolved when your lead had been promoted within the company.

You could also put up with Anya and Holly as necessary on this trip because - by some blessed twist of fate - said leader of your team Amilla Tremaine had been unable to attend the conference this year. It was going to be a week without her needling, scrutiny, and constant disapproval.

The closer you got to Versailles, the more your stomach churned with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. You had practiced your elevator pitch countless times in the mirror, rehearsing the finer points of your latest project. But would anyone even care to listen to a newcomer from a small firm?

The taxi pulled up to the grand gates, and you all stepped out into the cool evening air. The château loomed before you, its windows aglow with warm light. Without a word, Holly and Anya immediately linked arms and caught up with some of the others while leaving you behind. A steady stream of masked figures made their way up the steps, their laughter and chatter carried on the breeze.

Then Gus was suddenly next to you, bumping your shoulder with his.

"Ready to make some magic happen?" He grinned, his eyes twinkling behind a mask adorned with silver swirls.

You couldn't help but smile back, feeling some of your tension ease. "As ready as I'll ever be. Though I think I might need a bit of liquid courage first."

"That can be arranged," Gus chuckled, offering his arm. "Shall we?"

Together, you ascended the grand staircase, your heart pounding with each step. The opulence of Versailles was overwhelming, even more breathtaking in person than in any photograph or film. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over the sea of masked faces, a kaleidoscope of colors and textures swirling around you.

As you entered the main ballroom, a waiter appeared as if by magic, offering flutes of champagne. You gratefully accepted one, taking a sip to calm your nerves. The champagne was exquisite, far better than anything you'd ever tasted before. You savored the moment, trying to commit every detail to memory.

"So, what's our game plan?" Gus asked, scanning the room. "Should we divide and conquer, or stick together?"

Before you could answer, a tall figure in an elaborate Venetian mask approached. "Excuse me," he said, his accent unmistakably French. "I couldn't help but overhear. Are you two looking to make some connections tonight?"

You and Gus exchanged a quick glance. "We are," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. "We're here representing Nexus PR."

The man's eyes lit up with interest. "Ah, Nexus! I've heard good things about your work in emerging markets. I'm Claude Dumont, head of international relations at Hansen Global."

Your heart skipped a beat. Hansen Global? Already? You forced yourself to maintain composure as you shook his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Monsieur Dumont.” You introduced yourself and Gus to tis industry titan.

"Enchanté," Claude smiled, his eyes crinkling behind his mask. "I must say, I'm particularly intrigued by your recent campaign in Southeast Asia. The cultural nuances were masterfully handled."

You blinked in surprise. He knew about that? It had been a small project, but one you'd poured your heart into. "Thank you, that means a lot coming from you, sir.”

Claude was known for his keen eye for talent and innovative partnerships. This was exactly the kind of opportunity you'd hoped for, but never expected to actually happen.

“I keep a sharp eye out for just that kind of execution in our industry, especially when it’s happening outside of our company,” he says with a wink. “Now you really must let me steal you two away to my modest corner of this gathering,” he insists.

You and Gus exchanged another quick glance, this time of barely contained excitement. This was an opportunity you couldn't pass up.

"We'd be honored, Monsieur Dumont," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

Claude gestured for you to follow him through the glittering crowd. As you weaved your way across the ballroom, you couldn't help but notice Anya and Holly watching from a corner, their eyes narrowing behind their ornate masks. You felt a small surge of satisfaction, quickly followed by a pang of guilt for feeling that way.

Claude's "modest corner" turned out to be a secluded alcove with plush velvet chairs and a stunning view of the gardens. A small group was already gathered there, their masks glinting in the soft lamplight. You recognized a few faces from industry magazines and conferences – these were some of the biggest names in global PR and marketing.

Claude introduced you to a couple of the figures closest to you, and then began to mingle elsewhere, drawn in by others.

After a few minutes, Gus leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear. "Don't look now, but I think you've caught someone else's attention."

Despite his warning, you couldn't help but glance in the direction he subtly indicated. A tall figure in a striking black and gold mask was observing you from across the room. Even from this distance, you could feel the intensity of their gaze.

"Any idea who that might be?" you whispered to Gus.

He shook his head. "Can't tell, but whoever it is, it looks like they're interested in you."

Your pulse quickened, and you took another sip of champagne. “No need to worry about him when we’re here though,” you replied softly, and then the two of you re-engaged with the people you’re surrounded with.

You tried to focus on the conversation around you, but found your attention continually drawn back to the mysterious figure in black and gold. Their gaze never wavered, and you felt a mixture of intrigue and unease under their scrutiny.

As the night wore on, you found yourself growing more comfortable in this elite circle of what turned out to be a mix of new and seasoned professionals. The initial nervousness had faded, replaced by a heady mix of excitement and confidence. You were holding your own in conversations about global market trends and innovative campaign strategies, even offering insights that were met with nods of approval.

Gus, true to form, was charming everyone within earshot. You couldn't help but smile as you watched him work the room, his easy laugh and quick wit drawing people in like moths to a flame.

After about an hour, you excused yourself to find a bathroom, and on your way back, you felt a gentle tap on your shoulder. You turned to find yourself face-to-face with the enigmatic observer. Though he wore a mask covering his full face, his eyes were still visible through the mask's openings, a mesmerizing shade of ice blue that drew you in.

He stood tall and imposing, his presence commanding even in the opulent surroundings of Versailles. His tuxedo was impeccably tailored, the fabric so fine it seemed to absorb the light around it. A single red rose was pinned to his lapel, a vibrant splash of color against the monochrome ensemble.

When he spoke, his voice was a rich baritone that sent a shiver down your spine. "I couldn't help but notice you from across the room, and I must insist that you dance with me."

You kept a polite smile on your face, but your eyes narrowed slightly. “Is that so?”

"Forgive me, that came out more presumptuous than it should have. Allow me to rephrase - may I have the honor of a dance?"

Something told you he didn’t care one bit about politeness or if you forgave him or not.

You hesitated, torn between curiosity about this mysterious, cavalier figure and the comfortable circle you’d already broken into for the evening. "I appreciate the offer, but I'm actually in the middle of some important conversations..."

"But isn't this entire evening about making new connections?" he countered smoothly. "You won't regret it."

There was something in his voice, a hint of challenge perhaps, that made you reconsider. Plus, you had to admit, you were intrigued.

"Alright," you conceded, "one dance."

He offered his arm, and you took it, allowing him to lead you to the dance floor. As if on cue, the orchestra began to play a slow waltz.

As you began to glide across the dance floor together, you couldn't help but feel a mix of exhilaration and unease. The mysterious man's lead was strong and confident, guiding you effortlessly through the steps of the waltz. His hand on your waist felt both thrilling and dangerous, like touching a live wire.

The man towered over you, his tall frame exuding a commanding presence. His broad shoulders were wrapped in thick muscles that you could feel plainly beneath your hand as it rested on his shoulder. With each turn on the dance floor, you could feel his undeniable strength and power, and it ignited a fire began to smolder within you. He was a force to be reckoned with, and you were unquestionably caught in his alluring grasp.

After a minute of dancing without any conversation, you needed to break the silence, your curiosity too strong and needing to know more about him.

“Aren’t you going to ask my name?” you started, in hopes of getting to learn his.

“Nope,” he replied, popping the p on the end.

You turned your face up to look at him. “Because you already know who I am?” you pressed.

“Nope,” he said again, but with a more pronounced p and a tone of amusement in his voice.

“Then why don’t you want to know who I am?”

“It defeats the point of having a masquerade,” he answered. “Tonight should be an escape from the burden of our names and titles and expectations.” His voice expressed a deeper annoyance as he continued - not at you, but seemingly at the situation. “The conference will be consumed by nothing but that for the rest of the week. Can we not have just this one night of anonymous freedom?”

There was an exhaustion that bled through his words as well. It made you more curious to know who this man was to feel so jaded and desperate to escape his life for one night, but it also made you reel back that curiosity to a point. His words struck a chord you could relate to.

"I suppose there's some truth to that," you admitted.

The pressure not only of the conference, but of your fledgling career, of constantly having to prove yourself, had been weighing heavily on your mind. Had been a relentless driving force for years, especially since your mother died. The idea of a night free from expectations was alluring.

"But how can we make connections if we don't know who we're connecting with?"

"Sometimes the most meaningful connections are formed when we're free from the constraints of our usual identities. Don't you find it liberating?"

As you twirled across the dance floor, you had to admit there would be something freeing about the anonymity. Without the pressure of your name or position, you felt you could be bolder, more daring.

"Fine, I'll play along," you decided, a mischievous glint in your eye. "But only if at some points you’ll answer at least some of my questions."

He chuckled, a deep, rich sound that sent a shiver down your spine. "Only if I want to. You up for the challenge?”

You wanted to know what company he worked for, maybe even what part of the industry, but you knew he wouldn’t answer questions like that.

“Where did you go to school?” you asked.

“Boring!”

“Can I at least know where you’re from?”

“Nope, too specific.”

You huff.

“Come on, ask me something interesting,” he goads.

You pondered for a moment, trying to think of a question that might intrigue him enough to answer. "Alright, what's your biggest regret?"

He raised an eyebrow behind his mask, clearly not expecting such a personal question. "Ah, now that's more like it," he said, his voice a low rumble. "My biggest regret... is not taking more risks when I was younger."

You felt a small thrill at having gotten him to answer. "What kind of risks?"

He spun you out and then pulled you back in, closer than before. "The kind that make your heart race and your palms sweat. The kind that could change everything."

His words sent a shiver down your spine. "And now?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Now?" He leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. "Now I make it a point to take as many calculated risks as I can.”

His words sent a thrill through you, adding more heat to the fire he’d already sparked. You were acutely aware of how close he was, the warmth of his body, the strength in his arms as he guided you across the dance floor.

"And what about you?" he asked, his voice low and intimate. "What's your biggest regret?"

You hesitated, caught off guard by the question. It felt too personal, too raw to share with a stranger. But then again, of course he would ask something demanding of a deeper answer. Wasn't that the point of this masked encounter now? Deeper connection but with the anonymity and constraints of only one night.

"I regret not standing up for myself more," you admitted softly. "Always trying to please others, even at my own expense."

He nodded, as if he understood all too well. "And now?" he echoed your earlier follow up.

You took a deep breath, considering your answer. "Now... I'm learning to find my voice. To take up space. To demand what I deserve."

His grip on your waist tightened almost imperceptibly. "Good," he murmured, his approval sending a shiver down your spine. "The world has no use for those who shrink themselves."

You were both quiet for a beat then, but it wasn’t awkward.

"The necklace you're wearing," he said after another moment, his eyes dropping to your collarbone. "It's quite striking."

You felt a flush creep up your neck, suddenly self-conscious. The small round diamond on its simple chain seemed woefully inadequate in the opulence of Versailles, among the glittering jewels adorning the necks of some of the other attendees. You'd debated whether to wear it tonight, knowing it might look out of place at such a grand affair. “You don’t have to say that, it’s not much, especially for an event like this.”

He shook his head, his piercing blue eyes meeting yours. "No, it's perfect precisely because it's not ostentatious. It speaks of history, of sentiment. I'd wager it means far more to you than any gaudy bauble could."

You were taken aback by his perception. “It’s… yes. It belonged to my gram who passed it on to my mom, and then to me. Gram said it would always bring good luck.”

His eyes softened behind the mask. "And has it? Brought you good luck?"

"I'd say it has," you replied with a small smile. “More good than bad, at least.” You built everything in your life on hard work, but your mother had always reminded you that hard work would sometimes be rewarded with the blessing of luck.

"Then it's doing its job," he said, his voice warm. "And it suits you."

You felt a rush of warmth at his words, touched by his insight and unexpected kindness.

As you continued to dance, the conversation flowed more freely. You discussed favorite books, debated the merits of various cuisines, and shared anecdotes from growing up. All the while, you were acutely aware of his presence, the strength in his arms, the intensity of his gaze behind that striking mask.

You didn’t realize you had danced so long until the orchestra paused to take a break. The absence of music brought you back to reality, and you moved away from the man who was only a partial stranger now. He’d released his hold from your waist, but he kept hold of your hand.

“Let’s go walk in the gardens,” he said.

You hesitated, glancing back towards the alcove where you'd left Gus and your newfound industry connections. "I should probably get back..."

"Aw, come on," he challenged, his voice low and persuasive. "The gardens of Versailles are breathtaking at night. It would be a shame to miss them."

You bit your lip, torn between duty and desire. The responsible part of you knew you should return to networking, to making the most of this rare opportunity. But another part of you, a part that had been dormant for far too long, yearned for adventure.

"Alright," you conceded, "but only for a little while."

Wasting no time, he led you towards the grand doors that opened onto the gardens. As you stepped outside, the cool night air caressed your skin, a welcome respite from the warmth of the ballroom. The gardens of Versailles stretched out before you, a labyrinth of manicured hedges and marble statues bathed in moonlight.

As you walked, your companion kept hold of your hand, his touch sending sparks through your body. The two of you dove easily back into conversation once more - the unconventional step away from the standard getting-to-know-yous and venturing through more things that mattered but that you rarely talked about with anyone.

"What do you think is the key to success?" you asked, curious about his perspective.

He chuckled, a low, rich sound that reverberated through you. "Adaptability," he answered without hesitation. "The ability to change course quickly, to see opportunities where others see obstacles. And a bit of ruthlessness doesn't hurt either."

You raised an eyebrow. "Ruthlessness? That’s intense."

He shrugged, his shoulders moving elegantly under his tailored jacket. "The business world isn't for the faint of heart. Sometimes you have to make tough decisions, put your own interests first."

His words made you pause. They reminded you of the cutthroat atmosphere at your own firm, the way Anya and Holly seemed to thrive on competition and backstabbing. You'd always tried to rise above it, to succeed on your own merits without stepping on others. But sometimes you wondered if that approach was naive.

"And what about integrity?" you challenged. "Doesn't that count for something?"

He turned to face you, his eyes glinting behind his mask. "Integrity is admirable, but it won't always get you where you want to go. Sometimes you have to play the game to change it."

You frowned, not entirely convinced. "But at what cost? Doesn't it hollow out your success if you compromise your values to achieve it?"

He leaned in closer, his voice low and intense. "The world isn't black and white, my dear. Sometimes the ends justify the means. And sometimes, those who play by the rules get left behind."

His words sent a chill down your spine.

There was a hard edge to his voice that hadn't been there before, a glimpse of something darker beneath the charm and mystery.

"I don't believe that," you said firmly. "There's always a way to succeed without sacrificing your principles. It might be harder, it might take longer, but it's possible."

He studied you for a long moment, his head tilted slightly. "You're idealistic," he said finally. "It's... refreshing. But I wonder how long you can hold onto that idealism in this industry."

You lifted your chin, meeting his gaze squarely. “I can’t abandon it. Ever.”

Even though you could not agree with him, there was something intoxicating about his confidence, his unapologetic pursuit of success.

You expected him to scoff or look at you as if you were perhaps a little less. But he only nodded, a pensive look remaining in his eyes, and then began to walk again, pulling you along to fall in step beside him.

"And what is it that you want?" he asked, his voice low and intimate.

You hesitated, caught off guard by the direction of his question. It was simple, but exposed you in a new way.

The question hung in the air between you, loaded with possibility. The intensity of the moment made your heart race.

"What I want..." you began, your voice softer than you intended. "I want to make a difference. To create campaigns that actually mean something, that have a positive impact on the world, not just make money for businesses."

He nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. "Admirable," he said, his tone unreadable. "And what do you want for yourself?"

What did you want for yourself? You'd been so focused on proving yourself, on climbing the ladder, on trying to make your father proud after all his own sacrifices to help put you through school, that you'd barely stopped to consider your own desires.

"I want to be recognized for my work. To be valued. To not have to fight for every scrap of credit or opportunity."

"Ah," he murmured, his voice tinged with understanding. His grip on your hand tightened slightly. "You're tired of being overlooked, of others taking credit for your hard work." His thumb traced small circles on the back of your hand. "I can relate to that feeling all too well."

You looked up at him, surprised by the hint of vulnerability in his voice. "You? But you seem so confident, so in control."

He chuckled, but there was a bitter edge to it. "Appearances can be deceiving, especially in our world. I've had my fair share of battles to get where I am."

As you walked deeper into the gardens, the sounds of the party faded away, replaced by the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant trickle of fountains.

"And is that all you want?" he pressed, his voice low and smooth. "There’s gotta be something more that you want."

He stopped walking to turn to look at you. You felt a blush creep up your neck, grateful for the mask that hid part of your face. There was something in his tone, in the intensity of his gaze, that made you think he wasn't just talking about professional aspirations anymore.

"I want to feel alive," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "To experience passion and adventure. To take risks without fear of failure."

He stepped closer, closing the already small distance between you. "And what's stopping you?"

Your breath caught in your throat. "I don't know," you said honestly.

His free hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin. "Maybe…”

Your phone buzzed in the pocket of your dress, and you gave a slight jump, breaking away from this man and the too-intense moment.

“Sorry,” you said.

“It’s fine,” he replied.

Your hand shot into the folds of your dress, and you pulled out the phone. It was a message from Gus, asking where you’d disappeared to. Your eyes flicked to the top corner, gasping when you saw what time it was - 11:47pm. You shot off a quick reply go Gus, even as your eyes flitted back up to the stranger. “I completely lost track of time! I have to get back before my group leaves without me.”

"No, of course," he said, his voice tinged with disappointment. "I suppose our little escape couldn't last forever."

You hesitated, torn between the desire to stay and the practical need to leave. "I should go," you said reluctantly.

He nodded, understanding in his eyes. “I’ll walk you back.”

Though he didn’t reach for your hand again, the walk back up to the castle was companionable enough, even if the conversation did taper off significantly. You imagined he must be feeling the spell of tonight’s escape dissipating as much as you.

It didn’t take long to walk back to the castle, but he stopped again once you were close and tugged you to face him.

“You could stay,” he said, “get a ride back with me.”

Your heart stuttered.

You wanted to.

But you couldn’t.

You didn’t want to say no though.

So instead, you said, “I don’t know. I can’t imagine disclosing something as pedestrian as which hotel I’m staying at,” calling back to the stubborn beginning of your true conversation, and by the time you’d finished, your face had split into an impish grin.

He chuckled, his eyes twinkling behind his mask. "Let me guess - the headquarter hotel for the conference, right?"

You nodded, pretending to be impressed by his deduction. "You got me. But that's all you're prying out of me, mystery man."

He laughed again, the warm sound sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. "I suppose I must concede defeat this time. But before you go..." He paused, his eyes searching yours behind his mask. "Will you do one thing for me?"

You hesitated, curiosity warring with caution. "What?"

"Close your eyes," he said softly. "Just for a moment."

You hesitated for a moment, torn between caution and curiosity. But something in his voice, in the way he'd looked at you all night, made you trust him. Slowly, you let your eyelids flutter shut.

You heard a rustle of fabric, then felt his warm breath on your face. One of his large hands, strong yet gentle, cupped your cheek. The scent of his cologne enveloped you – notes of sandalwood and something spicy you couldn't quite place.

Then his lips were on yours, insistent, hungry. The kiss was electric, sending sparks coursing through your body. His mouth moved against yours with a passion that left you breathless, his hand sliding to the nape of your neck to pull you closer. You melted into him, your hands gripping the lapels of his jacket as if to anchor yourself in this moment.

The world around you faded away - the sounds of the party, the cool night air, the scent of roses in the garden - all of it disappeared, leaving only the sensation of his lips on yours, his strong arms around you. You felt dizzy, intoxicated by his touch, by the passion that radiated between you.

The kiss deepened, his tongue teasing at the seam of your lips until you parted them with a soft gasp. He tasted of champagne and something darker, more intoxicating. His other hand found your waist, pulling you flush against him. You could feel the heat of his body through the thin fabric of your dress, the solid planes of his chest pressed against you. A small moan escaped your throat, swallowed by his eager mouth.

Just as you felt yourself getting lost in the kiss, he pulled away, leaving you breathless and dazed.

“Goodnight, Cinderella,” he murmured against your lips, then turned and swept away before your eyes fluttered open, only allowing you to see the back of him as he disappeared.

Though he had removed his mask to kiss you, you had never seen even a hint of his face, only his fierce blue eyes.

next chapter: Day One of the Conference

Shall we go with Monday updates for this one, my friends?

And what do you think? Are we ready for this asshole to be some kind of prince charming? Can he be? 🤭

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[femmeprincessjulia]

Ranking Cinderella Adaptations Based On How Much I Want The Dress

(In my own personal opinion, these are just the ones I like the best.)

10. Cinderella (2021) : Everyone's hated on this movie enough, so I'm just going to focus on the dress. In theory, I could see what they were going for. If it was just a fitted bustier, a hip-hugging skirt and a bustle, then I think it would have succeeded. But it's just underwhelming. That's all it is. Underwhelming. 3/10

9. Into The Woods (2014) : There's not much to talk about with this dress. I love the color choice, and I think the way it moves is pretty. But it just feels too simple. I know it's a dress that isn't crucial to the plot or anything, but it's still just a little too underwhelming. But I do think the sleeves are cute. 4/10

8. Once Upon A Time (2011-2018) : I think my issues with this dress are similar to my issues with Into The Woods. It just doesn't have the "wow" factor I'm searching for. It's a beautiful dress, and I would certainly wear it. But it just feels like the most generic Cinderella dress. Blue, sparkly, princess-y. Still cute though. 4/10

7. Another Cinderella Story (2008) : I'm a sucker for a red dress, and I truly adore this one. The neckline isn't my favorite, but I love the layering and the ruffles. It's such a daring take for a Cinderella dress, but it's something I would definitely wear. It looks like it would be fun to dance in. 6/10

6. Cinderella (1950) : Yes, it's a classic. It's simplistic, but so magical. The scene where her dress changes is one of my absolute favorites of all time. In this case, I love the simplicity. It really makes her stand out. I dreamed of this dress so much as a kid. 7/10

5. Ever After (1998) : Maybe I'm biased, because this is one of my favorite Cinderella adaptations, but I do adore this dress. While the time period is not my favorite in terms of silhouette, this dress still feels magical and dreamy. Empire waists and a slender fit aren't my type, but I would wear it simply to feel ethereal. I mean, the EMBROIDERY? The WINGS? All gorgeous and stunning. 8/10

4. A Cinderella Story (2004) : Yeah, it's a very simple dress. But it's absolutely breathtaking. I want to get married in this dress. Something about it is just so angelic. I feel like it should be paired with wings too. The femininity in this dress is something I truly adore. 8/10

3. Rodgers and Hammerstein's Cinderella (1997) : Is it costume-y? Yes. Is it made of two clashing materials? Yes. Would I sell my soul to the devil for the chance to wear this dress? Also yes. I don't care how cliché it is. The sweetheart neckline, the opera gloves, the little bustle in the back, it's all so cute and just feels like a little girl's princess dream. Plus, I love the shade of light blue. 9/10

2. The Slipper and the Rose (1976) : Shockingly, I haven't seen this film. But I truly should, because the costume design is absolutely gorgeous. It all takes inspiration from the rococo period. My bias takes hold again, it seems. Sure, it's a lot of frills and pink, but that's exactly what I look for in a dress. If I was going to a rococo ball, this is what I'd be wearing. 9/10

1. Cinderella (2015) : The almighty. The most beautiful dress to ever be created. The dress that lingers in my dreams. Nothing can surpass this dress. Words can't even describe how wonderful it is. I do believe this dress is the most magical of all. It is absolute perfection from head to toe. Scratch what I said earlier about getting married in Hillary Duff's dress. I'm getting married in Lily James' dress. 1000000/10

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Judy Holliday (Born Yesterday, Bells Are Ringing)—this woman had an IQ of 172!! she was a jewish new yorker!! investigated for communist sympathies and named no names!! tony and oscar winning actress!! leonard bernstein thought of marrying her???? which part of this is not fabulous i ask you that right now

Mary Anderson (Lifeboat)—no propaganda submitted

This is round 1 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut]

Judy Holliday:

Mostly remembered for beating screen legends Gloria Swanson and Bette Davis at the Oscars for her performance as ditzy blonde Billie Dawn in Born Yesterday, Judy Holliday was an incredible actress whose charm, vulnerability, and humour impressed Katharine Hepburn so much that Hepburn helped her secure the role of Billie Dawn in the screen adaptation of Born Yesterday by getting her a role in 'Adam's Rib', starring Hepburn and Tracy, when Judy was deemed 'too unknown'. Holliday was also an incredibly smart Jewish leftist, who played the ditzy blonde part again when pulled up by HUAC for 'communist sympathies'. She never named names and managed to avoid getting blacklisted. What a queen. She also had an incredible and unique voice and one of the best smiles in the business.

HOT. FUNNY. JEWISH. BLONDE. WOMAN.

She was a singer, dancer, comedienne, and Oscar-winning actress (for Born Yesterday), and she had a gorgeous curvy Cinderella vibe that is everything to me. The part of Lina Lamont in Singin' in the Rain was written for her, but after she won her Academy Award the producers realized she was far too big a star for a supporting role, so her friend Jean Hagen did a perfect impression of how Judy would play it, and she got the part!

SOMEONE PLEASE TALK ABOUT BELLS ARE RINGING??? HELLO??? THE FUNNIEST COMEDIENNE MY GOD SMART AND FUNNY AND HOT AS HELL?

Judy Holliday was the whole package--actress, singer, dancer, and comedienne--she lights up the screen in such a powerful way that she outshines everyone else. Here she is in a supporting role in Adam's Rib (1949) giving her statement to lawyer (Katharine Hepburn) on why she shot her cheating husband [editor's note: tw for domestic abuse & murder mentions] In every movie I've seen her in my heart goes out to her, she's so authentic and beautiful. She's proof that it takes smart to play dumb, and can make me laugh and cry in the same scene let alone the same movie. Film historian Bernard Dick on Holliday: "Perhaps the most important aspect of the Judy Holliday persona, both in variations of Billie Dawn and in her roles as housewife, is her vulnerability... her ability to shift her mood quickly from comic to serious is one of her greatest technical gifts." She won the Oscar for Best Actress (beating out Gloria Swanson, Bette Davis, and Anne Baxter) for her performance in Born Yesterday.

[bengiyo]

My Love Mix Up TH: The Adaptation Changes to the Class Play

I’m generally in favor of the cross-cultural adaptations of BL. I am on record saying plainly that I think the Thai version of Cherry Magic is the best version of the story we’ve seen brought to screen. However, I do not like what’s happening in My Love Mix Up and I need to talk about it. I’ve been thinking about the class play storyline since last Friday, and it bothers me because they fundamentally changed the messaging and themes around that sequence. 

I want to take the time to compare and contrast both versions of this because after two episodes, the Thai version is basically in the same place as the beginning of episode 3 of the Japanese live action.

Kieta Hatsukoi’s Take

We begin episode 2 with Aoki sorting the love triangle he’s suddenly found himself in, before committing to helping Hashimoto connect with Ida even if he confused Ida by claiming the eraser was his.

Seeing an opportunity, Aoki accidentally signs himself up alongside Ida to help on stage setup.

Before our complications ensue, there’s only 1 day left before they put on the show.

I’ll skip over the portion where they’re working on the stage stuff for brevity.

The next day, the leads reveal that they can’t perform because they got sick, and so the class has to scramble, and pragmatically decide that the stage design team doesn’t have any other responsibilities during the play and have the time to fill in the role. The class suggests Hashimoto but she’s clearly nervous.

Aoki, wanting to help her, volunteers to play Cinderella.

The class decides to let him play and agrees as a group.

Aida suggests Ida play the prince.

The class rallies to prep cue cards quickly so they can still do the play.

Aoki is not a great actor, but he commits to the bit and is willing to wear the drag required for the role.

Ida is also not that great of an actor, but he looks good!

After the play, Aoki has changed back into his uniform during the class party, but Ida is still taking pictures with people at the class’s request.

The class president starts a celebration of Aoki and Ida, but then the jokes take a turn and make Aoki uncomfortable.

The teacher, Aida, and Ida are uncomfortable about this.

Ida chides the class for teasing Aoki, reminds them that he did it for their sake, and leaves an uncomfortable silence. Aoki breaks the tension with a joke about himself, and the teacher shuffles the class out.

Finally, Ida checks on Aoki.

The My Love Mix Up TH Take

The Thai version opens directly with the class play organization before doing a simplified voiceover to check in with Atom, who says he wants to help them.

I’ll skip over the same stage prep stuff, and the leads calling in. The class suggests Mudmee play the role, but she is nervous about being on stage.

Atom tries to volunteer instead, and is immediately shot down for gendered reasons by the female director and then the rest of the class.

Half encourages them to select Kongthap as the Prince because he says Atom gets tongue-tied when he’s nervous.

We aren’t given a sense of the timeline, but it feels like they have a few days to work on this since Mudmee leaves rehearsal. 

Atom then stays behind to help Kongthap on his practice.

The day of the play, Mudmee’s stage fright gets the better of her, and so Atom takes the stage on his own.

The class rolls with it, and then two fill-in actors (one of which wasn’t recommended as an option because he gets too nervous and tongue tied) go on to nail three musical numbers that also include a dance.

Afterwards, Mudmee apologizes, and the female director says it was the class’s fault, so now is the time to celebrate.

Next, three boys begin to tease Atom in a most homophobic way.

Atom is uncomfortable, and Kongthap gets angry on Atom’s behalf. He chides them for teasing Atom who saved the class.

The female director then comes back, tells Kongthap he spoke well, and then kicks out the other three boys and their ‘toxic masculinity.’ 

After an awkward pause, the class is shuffled out for fireworks by another student, and Atom checks on Kongthap.

Why Point Out These Changes?

The reason why I’m so bothered about these changes is that it removes the collective responsibility from the story. 

In the Japanese version, Aoki volunteers and the class agrees to support his choice. It then requires them to work together to scramble and make sure the play is as much of a success as it can be with two unprepared actors in the lead roles. It also means that Aoki and Ida aren’t actually great at either role, but Ida is attractive in his prince outfit, while Aoki is funny in his drag. The play is a success! However, it is also the class that begins to collectively tease Aoki in a somewhat homophobic way. The teacher looks on, uncertain, and it’s Ida who chides the class for giving Aoki a hard time after doing something to help them. 

The fact that the whole class signed on to make Aoki Cinderella, and then teased him for playing an apparent queer role as a class matters! This works as a commentary about how we don’t mind enjoying queerness as entertainment, but then make fun of people for actually doing it. This lands especially hard because Aoki did this for Hashimoto’s sake, and he’s going through his own queer awakening. The role of collective homophobia, and how he is incapable of really hiding anything about himself, is a critical piece of the story to come. 

In the Thai version, the class explicitly rejects Atom and highlights his faults for why he isn’t a good choice. He then goes on to defy them, I guess, to help Mudmee anyway? It ends up not working for me because I don’t see what the point of Atom being secretly good at acting and singing contributes here when the play is just an activity they’re doing for their class. I don’t know what role exceptionalism is meant to play here because he ends up defying the class to help them instead. Moreover, the play has been the most well-funded and stylish part of the show so far, and felt out of place for a small class production.

Perhaps I’m overthinking it. Because these are the leads from My School President, and GMMTV has concerts to put on, they need to amplify these school play scenes to sell tickets later. Is the brand management around Fourth the reason they didn’t have the class sign on because then they would have to put him in drag? Director Au was an AD and performer on Bad Buddy where they decided to do an m/m version of a classic play. Why not do the same here?

I also find it disingenuous that the female director is the first person to shoot down Atom for not being a girl as Cinderella, and then is the one to kick out the three boys for their apparent toxic masculinity. I think by making it Atom’s choice to take the stage, the boys’ choice to troll Atom, and the director’s choice to get rid of them, it reduces the social politics of socialized homophobia down to an individual problem. By removing the collective role of the class in this situation, the show loses the potency of the role we all play in the consumption and production of queer media and the tension between wanting these shows for entertainment while holding homophobic viewpoints. 

I have other issues with this episode as an adaptation, but I wanted to focus on the big writing changes here. It’s frustrating because in a side by side comparison, the Thai show hits many of the same moments as the source material and the Japanese live action, but then it goes on to change and add things that generally confuse the story, and I wonder if that’s what contributed to some of the confusion in scenes I’m seeing from the actors in some of the new content (who I actually think are doing fine to good with the content). I also worry that removing some of the collectivist messaging and the supervisory role of a teacher is going to weaken a key storyline that should be coming in the future. 

[momolady]

Momolady: 2024 Year End review

Well, here we are, the end of 2024. I think we're all relieved but also terrified to an extent. It's been a rough year, as well as being one of the best of my life. And while I may be on a break, I'm still woorkiing towards making 2025 the year of publish (question mark?). I'm already starting to post long form works on Patreon as serials I hope to work towards as novels for the future. I'm also planning on working on building my horror writing. I have a goal of getting $500 of more support on patreon this year so I can make working towards publishing a full time goal.

But anyways, rather than doing the top performing stories of the year, I'm posting all of them! My top ten will have a small blurb about them and why I loved them. I'll also post my top songs and something special at the end.

Thank you all so much for joining me for another year. My goodness, ya'll have no idea what your support means to me. I cannot thank you all enough.

January

Jasper the Bugbear

Jaxson the Orc

Kerwyn the Fae

Zeru the Plant Monster 

I really love the mix of horror and romance in this one. I would really love to stretch my legs and post more dark romances like this with maybe less happily ever afters. I know that's a huge fight in the romance book community if a story is a romance without a happily ever after. 

Art the Orc

February

Ozren Preview

The Magician’s Assistant 

This is a universe I want to work more in, a world where curses are as commonplace as cussing. I loved the characters and how the lead of the story dealt with the cards she was handed. 

Jasper the Bugbear: Part Two

Lyco the Plant Monster

March

Alcide the Vampire 

Another dark romance I think a lot of people enjoyed. This is also a new universe I would love to write in, which is vampires in space. And yes, before you say anything, it was inspired by Vampire Hunter D, but another story on this list is more inspired by it.

Rhys the Lizardman

April

Author April: Wild Adapter

Rain the Nahual

Author April: War on the Mists

Author April: Sucks 2BU

Mathias the Goblin: Part One

Mathias the Goblin: Part Two

Author’s April: Sleeping Beauty

Author’s April: First Attempt at Smut

May

Goro the Merman

Theron the Minotaur

June

Elazar the Ifrit 

Somerbron Lake: Part One 

July

Somerbron Lake: Part Two 

Somerbron Lake: Part Three 

Somerbron Lake: Part Four 

This story was inspired by several sources, one of them being my mother’s favorite movie, Let’s Scare Jessica to Death. Past longing, repressed emotions, and a sense a suffocation. I think now that Nosferatu has been released, this story really sticks out. 

August

Five Paralangua: Part One

Five Paralangua: Part Two

Five Paralangua: Part Three & Four

Harvey the Orc: Part One

September

Harvey the Orc: Part Two

Chicory the Tiefling: Part Two

Manus the Fae: Part One 

October

Manus the Fae: Part Two 

This twist on the Cinderella fairy tale was so much fun. I loved Manus and I especially loved coming up with the ending.

Butch the Grim Reaper: Part One 

Butch the Grim Reaper: Part Two 

Butch the Grim Reaper: Part Three 

This is probably one of my top stories of all time. I had so much fun writing this and I don’t think I’ve ever felty so creatively fulfilled as I combined some of my most favorite things in the world into one story: 80’s slashers, time travel, death, and open ended endings.

November

Luzas the Orc-Lich: Part One 

Luzas the Orc-Lich: Part Two 

The chemistry between the two leads was so much fun to write. I love good banter, I also love a strong female lead who is also boisterous and a little stupid. Would love to visit this pirate crew again.

Sirion the Vampire 

Yes, this is the one that is extremely based on Vampire Hunter D, specifically Bloodlust. I enjoyed so much writing the lead character and his run for freedom nd self expression. I also love the moodboard which I really wanted to resemble a trans flag.

Magdalene the Succubus: Part One

Magdalene the Succubus: Part Two

December

Magdalene the Succubus: Part Three

Incubus and Succubus Holiday: Part One

Incubus and Succubus Holiday: Part Two

Kirilka the Orc: Part One 

Kirilka the Orc: Part Two 

The banter! Ugh so good. I love writing dialogue above all else, especially when it can be sparkling and witty. The two leads were so fun, but I did really enjoy the side characters and creating the world around them in this one.

What a mix bag of music. Of course Epic took over.

To thank you all, I have a special gift! Ten people will be able to claim two months of membership on my patreon for free! Join as a free member to be able to snatch this reward!

[marciabrady]

it's so funny to me that the princess our culture associates fundamentally with passivity offers credos which are among the most active and powerful of any in the fairytale canon

first and foremost, cinderella communicates that we all are what we contribute.

cinderella saves the mice and fosters an environment of collaboration, harmony, and unity that's harbored by her own industrious nature. mind you, she does all of this against her stepfamily's wishes, actively defying them, and creating a counterculture in the process.

as the story team intended the animals to be a reflection of their human counterpart, notice how cinderella's kindred are uniformly hardworking, intentionally kind, and approach every situation with their best foot forward, adapting a problem-solving mindset that collectively aids them all in their shared progression toward the betterment of themselves and the world around them. take the very first scene in which we see cinderella and the culture she's created, for instance:

everyone has a hand in the first chores of the day and they're all choosing to do it with a smile on their face. key word: choosing. because this isn't an idly happy lot whose joy is an accident of their own nature or something that's easy. their happiness is something they have to be mindful of and, in many cases, fight against themselves to achieve. because, guess what? their life is terrible. they've been reduced to living in a dusty attic room of a decaying house. many of them were saved from death by cinderella, herself, and know that if they venture too far outside of the safe quarters she's provided, or if they allow themselves to be seen in some way, they'll be back at death's doorstep. the danger and stress they live under would cause anyone to snap, or anyone to never want to get out of bed, which is why we see them looking like this in one of the most relatable openings of all time:

i mean, cinderella canonically hits the snooze button:

the birds literally have to force her to wake up, initially:

and once she does wake up, she's playful and pleasant and kind, yes. but that doesn't last long- the clock immediately tries her by reminding her of the daily toil she must face in order to maintain the food and shelter that's tantamount to, not only her own survival, but that of this tiny community that she's the unofficial mayor over and continues to be responsible for. she has to sustain herself and the others she's collected around her by choosing to live life the way she does. this kindness is something she has to pay for, every day. and she physically snarls at being reminded of the hand life's dealt her:

and you know what? that's a very human quality that everyone can identify with in some regard because it's hard, even if you are someone who loves life and the people around you, to keep going in spite of the challenges you face. being positive, plainly put, is something that's difficult and you have to keep reengaging yourself to be because it isn't a natural state for most people, and especially not people that have been treated as unkindly as cinderella. let's not forget that she lost both of her parents at a young, formative age, and from that time in her youth when, like all other children, she deserved to be supported and loved and protected, she was literally "abused, humiliated" and "forced" into being a literal "servant in her own house." she had no security- both of her parents were gone, she had no money to fall back on, no education, no means with which to leave the house, and to try to get a job in that world and environment- as unlikely as it would've been to obtain in the first place (which, again is so relatable- look at the staffing shortages and people struggling to find employment today)- would've been contingent upon references of some sort, and we all know that lady tremaine definitely would've either a) ran a smear campaign against cinderella to absolve herself and the family name of any personal fault or b) prevented cinderella from ever leaving in the first place so that no one would ever know that atrocities the tremaines forced her to endure from the time she was practically an infant.

she wakes up after barely being able to sleep, probably, due to all the daily chores she must, alone, accomplish to keep an entire estate afloat. everyone is depending on her, from the stepfamily to the mice to the grounds of her family's home itself. her body's practically aching from the lack of rest, the physical work she's forced to do every day, from sleeping on such an uncomfortable bed. the only place she feels remotely safe is in this drafty attic, which smells of fraying wood and aging artifacts and is in a constate state of decay, with weeds growing in the sides of the tower. that's not even mentioning the emotional turmoil, the ptsd, the grief, the neglect, the physical abuse she's also processing at any given moment

so, yeah, cinderella snaps. and there are times she snaps later on in the film but she always reels herself in and consciously makes the choice to never succumb to her circumstances. this is what makes cinderella extraordinary. she singlehandedly- and actively- ends the cycle of abuse through the behavior and choices she partakes in every single day.

and, again, this isn't something that's easy for someone who has been in survival mode for a majority of their life. but the conscious choices, active efforts, and mindful decisions cinderella makes is what frees the household from that cycle of abuse continuing. i mentioned earlier that the animals are supposed to be a parallel to their human counterparts. remember how we meet gus? he's just been caught in a trap, doesn't have anything to wear, and is literally recoiling in fear. due to his terror and his own need to defend himself out of instinct, he attempts to make himself come off as threatening as possible and is ready to pop off the minute that jaq approaches him:

but, through cinderella's influence, she's able to give him hope once more. she treats him warmly, pairs him up with a buddy to go through life with, comes up with a name- and even a nickname- for him, gives him a community, a safe haven, and clothes him. in that short time, look at the difference she's made in his mood, his demeanor, even his approach to life:

and it isn't just the mice cinderella's this way with. in the opening slides, we see cinderella holding an adorable puppy dog. but as the film progresses, and the narrator details the despair the family estate has fallen into, that puppy dog turns into an old, starved bloodhound who's secretly sleeping on the floor of the cold kitchen to keep from freezing to death. he has to keep even his dreams to himself so as to not be heard by the stepfamily and potentially kicked out. he openly hates lucifer but cinderella encourages him to think of lucifer's good points too, even if she can't think of any herself, to be able to continue successfully cohabiting this environment with him. and when he pounces on lucifer, deserved or not, she puts an end to this:

because cinderella knows what will ever happen if bruno allows himself to give into his impulses, to treat others as life has treated him, to attempt to retaliate in an impossible environment when the odds are already against you. you'll harm yourself the most and perpetuate that cycle.

but, just as bruno is a reflection of cinderella, notice how gleeful lucifer is in falsely incriminating bruno, so that another being who's never wronged him will be unjustly punished and suffer:

this is what separates cinderella from the tremaines. this is why she is the heroine and they will never be, despite how many people you see empathizing with how unfairly life must've treated them for being the "conventionally unattractive" characters in the film, or for having a single mother which to them denotes less resources, or for being awkward, or for whatever other reason of the month they're being rewritten to be the victims.

if we are the sum of our contributions, the tremaines are nothing and that is definitely a reflection of their reality. they only feel alive when they're making fun of cinderella or humiliating her by continuing that cycle of abuse they passively adhere to and never challenge. remember how we met cinderella and her friends, gathering their spirits and putting on a smile, despite how hard it is with the troubles that face them? how they look past that to work together and try to change life for the better?

the tremaines can't be bothered to get out of bed. the truly passive, lazy characters, they grog about in dim rooms, turning around in their fine silks and ornate finery, while a being they literally enslaved is being forced to do their bidding. and they refuse to actively participate in their very charmed and privileged life. they can't even find a reason to be happy- but instead are upset when cinderella enters their room. they want to know why she's taken so long, to hurry up, to continue to wait on them, hand and foot. when she asks them how they're doing, they grumble, "as if you care." because they don't care about anyone else, so why would others care about them? and that type of apathy breeds resentment, which- in the wake of such sedentary creatures- seeks manifestation and results in destruction. the stepsisters get out of their comfortable beds only when they have the opportunity to point their finger at cinderella, to get their mother to punish her. again, they feel alive by inflicting pain on others, it's literally what gets them out of bed:

again, as the parallel, this goes for lucifer, too:

as cinderella nears lady tremaine's bed, her stepmother's eyes blaze with fury, hatred plain on her face:

lady tremaine doesn't move, her hand only lifting to stroke lucifer, who has the biggest grin on his face. meanwhile, the desperation is evident in cinderella. she isn't quite defeated, because she does stick up for herself three times in the scene. but she's tired of this. she's tired of being tormented by her only family, of having the odds stacked against her even when she's doing everything in her power to live as peacefully and productively as possible, of being forced to fight a losing battle that will never result in peace but will only further prompt hatred, and division, and anger. in her expression, there's almost a plea for lady tremaine:

it isn't until she sees cinderella's expression, she hears cinderella try to explain what happened, that she livens up. because she has the opportunity to, again, keep that cycle of abuse alive, to actively try to destroy cinderella's quality of life and to profit off the position of power she's in over cinderella. look at the difference in lady tremaine's expression in the previous cap, and in this one, when she believes she's silenced cinderella and is preparing to tear into her:

one of the best instances through which i can further illustrate this ideology (you are what you contribute) is in a later scene, where we see the stepsisters discard their fine wares, labeling it trash and flinging the luxuries life's afforded them to scorn. it's nothing to them.

yet, to the mice and cinderella, it isn't nothing. because, remember, the royal proclamation declared that every eligible maiden should attend. at first, the stepmother refuses to let cinderella go and even the stepsisters brush her aside with classist comments. when cinderella sticks up for herself by reminding them she's still a member of the family, and by trapping them in the language of the royal decree "every eligible maiden," lady tremaine has no choice but to consent- on the grounds that cinderella is able to make herself eligible through producing a suitable dress. because, remember, cinderella isn't seen as a person. she's seen as subhuman, someone who's reduced to wearing tatters and isn't seen as a person in the eyes of their society unless she has social indicators of wealth via her clothing, in this specific instance. drizella and anastasia never have to think about that, because they exist as people of value in their society due to their good fortune that they had no part in creating. they don't know what it's like to be laughed at, to not be considered eligible or even a person in the eyes of society the way that cinderella's lived experience has reflected since her father died. meanwhile, the tremaines are so deep in their own privilege, that they're literally waving it around like it's a rag and carelessly tossing it away. yet, what does cinderella do, with much less?

cinderella makes do with what little she has, always to help someone else. and because of this active kindness, it changes the mindset of those around her. since she's afforded this to so many of the mice, what do they do for her in return?

what a difference in how cinderella and the stepfamily approaches what's, essentially, the same material? and this community that cinderella has established and continually maintained and influenced comes to each other's aid, time and time again. whether it's cinderella freeing the mice from death, or giving them clothing, or allowing bruno to sleep inside unbeknownst to the stepfamily, or the mice turning into a LITERAL army and battleground in cinderella's honor:

again, this community is just as active and vital as cinderella, herself, is. because those values i mentioned earlier, of helping one another and rising above your circumstances and working together, aren't just whimsical morals cinderella sings about. they're constant behaviors she's actively taking part in and impact the household they all share, to the point where when they help each other take action when the time is right. they're constantly conferring with one another on how to best use their community and the resources this offers to get closer to victory. (meanwhile, the stepfamily is only for themselves; anastasia and drizella literally repeatedly hit each other and compete, even to the point of giving conflicting stories to the grand duke that makes their pathetic attempt seem all the more discreditable at alleging they were the princess at the ball the night before) we see it in how cinderella and her friends accomplish their chores together, in how the mice plan to get her dress remade while she's busy, even in how cinderella's quick thinking leads to calling upon bruno, who must be awoken by the birds with an interjecting call from the horse, and how this leads to all of their escape:

because, this community also knows when it to fight and support one another in times of battle and when the goal will bring about a victory that will ultimately reign peace; they know when it's worth it for a shared goal and the benefit of all parties involved. and the difference cinderella brought into that household is what gave them all glory and helped them, not only survive, but succeed. it isn't just the poor scullery maid we see ascend in the closing chapter of the film. we see the same bluebirds who attempted to wake her up in the beginning of the film holding her wedding veil:

we see those same mice that she nursed from death, and clothed, and fed, and loved; the mice that risked their lives in remaking her deceased mother's dress so that cinderella might, too, have a chance to go to the ball; they're still here, cheering her on and throwing rice in blessing at the happy couple, their own clothing being upgraded to reflect that of the royal staff:

we see that starved bloodhound and the old horse leading the royal regiment, as beautiful and shining and proud as their majestic counterparts:

and this is the world that cinderella, as a character, offers. not a world in which multiple parties are at competition with one another over who's the prettiest, or the wealthiest, or where hatred breeds continual hatred. but she presents us a world in which everyone deserves to be seen, heard and valued; where everyone can find a community they can contribute to and have purpose in and be worthy of experiencing love, whatever you determine love to be whether it's romantic or in the form of a found family.

a world in which everyone can go to the ball:

[fairytale-poll]

BEST MODERN FAIRYTALE ADAPTATION! ROUND 1D, MATCH 2 OUT OF 4!

Princess Tutu (2002 - 2003) is based off the Ugly Duckling and Swan Lake; Mermaid Melody Pichi Pichi Pitch (2003 - 2004) is based off the Little Mermaid; A New Magical Tale! Mofuderella is the Star!? (An episode of Mahou Tsukai Pretty Cure) is based off Cinderella.

Propaganda Under the Cut:

Princess Tutu (2002 - 2003):

This show is PHENOMENAL. Starts as a fairy tale show, slowly starts to discuss fate vs free will and the archetypes that fairy tale characters have to play and what would happen if they could fight the narrative. Also has one of the most perfect endings to Duck's arc that any protagonist could ever have.

Mermaid Melody Pichi Pichi Pitch (2003 - 2004):

I love my magical girls

A New Magical Tale! Mofuderella is the Star!?:

I love that transgender teddy bear so much

[hotjaneaustenmenpoll]

Look, I know Darcy is going to win, and that most of the people voting have too much of an attachment to the BBC Pride and Prejudice to even consider debating that Ang Lee's and Emma Thompson's Sense and Sensibility is the best Austen adaptation out there. But Brandon is still the best Jane Austen Man and the last one standing from that film, so I have to submit a final slew of propaganda on his behalf:

He yearns

He respects your little sister

He's agile (no he did not complain of a rheumatism, it was a slight ache)

He's earnest one minute

But will throw shade at a rake the next

He doesn't half ass several things, he whole asses one thing, which is to be there when it counts...

...and will ask what's needed and does it without hesitation, even if it means picking your mom up from her house when it takes a whole day just to get there

He shares your interests, and will buy you a whole piano just to make you happy

He's literally a male Cinderella story, come on

Bonus content: The acting chops to be this charming while the horse you literally rode in on spends every take farting up a loud, stinky storm

Colonel Brandon (1995) Vs Mr Darcy (1995)

[lauralot89]

So I watched Nosferatu

poor Nicholas Hoult keeps getting tortured by vampires

also

that certainly was a penis

it has been years since I watched the original Nosferatu and I no longer remember what it did with any of its characters or plot so I will not be comparing this to that

so if you're going to do a Dracula/Mina romance (or in this case, Orlok/Ellen) and you're not going to base it around their shared hobby of reading train schedules, this is probably the best way to do it, because this isn't actually a romance. This movie gives Mina/Ellen the psychic sensitivity that Lucy/Anna has in the book, and establishes that Ellen has had mental connection with Orlok since her childhood, and he essentially groomed her. She even calls him out on it in the film. Yeah, there is one moment toward the end of the movie where she comforts him, but she isn't trying to save him or anything and also even in the original novel, Mina was the one who said Dracula deserved the most pity.

Yes, there was the scene where Ellen was saying Orlok loved her more than Thomas/Jonathan but she was clearly possessed

There is no romanticism of Orlok/Dracula here. He's the worst and he doesn't even have the illusion of civility that most adaptations provide.

also I was told by early reviewers that this movie was very horny and I think they must have watched a different cut than I did. I mean, sure, you see (flaccid) vampire dick once and some nudity throughout but the movie has two sex scenes and both are deeply unsexy in that in the first, you don't see anything and also both characters have gone out of their minds, and in the second, it's not even really sex. You can't just show me a dick that's not even in use and tell me that's horny. Come on, people. Raise your standards.

I don't say this to be mean but: I think the original Orlok makeup from the silent film was scarier. I get what they were doing here, I do, and the makeup was immaculate (as were the costumes, the set designs, etc. It's an Eggers film) but I personally find Original Orlok scarier, and this Orlok was most intimidating when he was kept in the shadows.

This movie felt very much like a fairy tale. It even sets up a "three nights" limit at one point sort of like the earlier versions of Cinderella. I find that Dracula adaptations, particularly in film, often put vibes above, say, characterization, and this movie felt pretty vibe-y.

If I were to make a complaint, it wouldn't even really be about the movie itself. But like, Nosferatu was originally made to be Dracula without paying for the rights to Dracula, wasn't it? You're not bound by the novel (not that most straight-up Dracula adaptations follow the novel all that closely either). You literally have a built-in excuse to do whatever you want, but it seems like what people want to do time and again in vampire movies is a highlights reel of the most famous moments in the book without ever really delving into the characters that made the novel so good.

Again, this is not a criticism of this movie. It's just that what I realized while watching this movie is that I really really want a Dracula adaptation that's a character study. Not even necessarily a character study of Dracula. If someone out there made an adaptation that focused the story on Jonathan or Lucy or Jack or whoever, I would love for that.

God bless Ralph Ineson's voice

Everyone in this film did well, but Nicholas Hoult's performance was probably my favorite. He emotes terror so damn well. And of course Dafoe is always a delight.

Did Original Orlok also favor biting people on the chest or was he a neck guy

[smolvenger]

The Twelfth Night Ball, A Cinderella Story (Henry V x fem! Reader one-shot)

Summary: As a lady turned servant, every day you survive under immense cruelty. Then one day, it is declared the King of England, Henry V, is throwing a ball, looking for a potential bride...

Word Count: 7535 (have snackies)

Warnings: Physical and verbal abuse from the "stepfamily" (this is a Cinderella story after all). Some curse words here and there. Grammar and spelling mistakes that slip past my radar. LOTS of angst, but it becomes tooth-rotting fluff.

A/N: Happy Holiday Season! This was gonna be a Christmas ball but things got busy, so it's Twelfth Night (that was a bigger deal back then, anyway, ehehhe) but I hope you enjoy this any time of the year! Comments, dms, reblogs, and comments about my work are always appreciated!

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @fandxmslxt69 @skittslackoffilter @mischief2sarawr @loz-3 @muddyorbsblr

Once upon a time, you were a little child delivered to a house of strangers. Your dear parents, an established lord and lady, both died of a deadly illness that spread. You were separated from them- sparing your life. But without even a final goodbye. 

It the Lord and Lady Brentford who took you in, for they were distant relatives. You could still feel the guard's hand, much bigger than your own, support you when the carriage door opened before the Brentford Manor. You stepped out of the carriage and onto their grounds. They looked at you with polite smiles…but nothing warm behind their eyes as they led you in.

It began small. At first, they were merely strict in their lessons with you. As any daughter of a lord. You tried to adapt, to please them. As much as your little eight-year-old self could allow. Even at your best behavior, they always reminded you of one thing: you were mere charity. Their one daughter you had never met. She was sent off to stay in a convent for her education.

It was when you were thirteen that one day, they requested you to move into a shabbier room. The one you slept in had to be used for guests.

Then they kept insisting the servants needed help with things. Mending, cracking eggs, a stone on the floor that needed scrubbing. You wanted to help, to please them. So you said yes.

Then, you realized one day your pretty dresses were gone. They said that what was left of your family's fortune had been spent already. You had to make ends meet, they said, by selling what nice ones you had. Leaving you with only servants' clothes.

Then, finally, when you were fourteen, you went down after helping cook breakfast. To eat with them…and there were only two chairs at the table.

“Where may I…I sit?” you asked.

The Lord glared up at you.

“You do not eat with us.”

“But…you are my guardians,” you replied.

He snorted. “You. Family?”

His eyes were cold.

“You were never our family, girl,” Lady Brentford agreed.

The stomach within you dropped. Hot tears welled up.

“Bring us our bread, girl.” she ordered.

“If…If my father was alive, he-”

Lord Brentford stood up.

“He is dead. Are you going to keep talking or should I get the horsewhip to get you to shut up? Bring. Us. Our. Meal.”

You went back, sobbing hot tears. Then delivered their meal to them. Banished. No longer as a member of the family. Or of any family that wanted you, loved you. You were unloved. Unwanted.

The Lord and Lady threatened to throw you out if you ran away resisted, or fought back. To beg on the streets. Or whore to survive. So you were stuck as a servant.

And so your life as a servant began for years here. Some of them gaped at first- the Lady Y/L/N turned into a drudgery maid.  They pitied you. They did not laugh at you for not knowing initially how to cook an egg but would show you how. They let you hug them and cry and rage. Only in private. For all knew how the Lord and Lady reacted to defiance. You got to know them and talk to them, It was Miss Anne who would give you oranges when they were in season to bite into. It was Mr. Page who would show you the secret bird's nest when you had to gather the apples in the orchard. Their kindness was appreciated. 

There was one other consolation in your life- the Brentford’s only daughter, Jane. The time arrived when her long stay at the convent for her education was done. She was considered of age to be married and she moved back. A woman of your age, your very height and size but with pale skin, long chestnut hair, and bright green eyes.

After Jane got home, you brought her some food to her room but found she wasn’t there. You saw her outside in the garden climbing an apple tree in bloom to gather the fruit and flowers. As she stepped on one branch, it broke beneath her weight. With a scream she fell a great distance, breaking her leg. At once, you alerted the servants and helped her in. It was you who stayed by her side, nursing her until she healed. 

Since then, a friendship began between you both. 

Lady Jane was the sort who became a very different person than her parents. She was kind.  If you brought something a little late, she gave you no chiding. Jane was always getting into some sort of mischief, for sometimes she would scrape her hand or burn something, and you would patch her up.

 You became each other’s confidantes…and then she considered you not as a servant, but an equal. You were sometimes tasked to be with her, and those were the easiest- delivering her correspondence two and fro, brushing her hair, and dressing her. Even picking flowers for her room to cheer her. Jane loved animals and her pride and joy was her mare, Psyche, who you would be tasked to feed and brush. 

It was only a shame she had no interest in marriage or even romance. If only she got married so you could become her chambermaid and live far away from this place! But no. She refused to be forced into a marriage. You were amazed at her bravery to refuse her parents boldly. However, she was their natural daughter and a Lady. She had the privilege to rebel. You did not.

Sometimes you wished you were her, you had to admit. Jane was something of a recluse, not wanting to go to balls and parties and be out in society. Her beautiful dresses only caught her mild interest, preferring riding her mare, her books, climbing trees, and talking with the servants despite her parent's protests. 

You wished she’d say yes to one ball- how beautiful it must be to wear a gown and dance the dances you were taught when your parents lived! And to maybe have men show interest in you and show up to see you- to be considered and wanted for marriage by some good-looking, nice lord!

But…what money your family left for your dowry was left to the Brentfords….who naturally spent it for their desires until you had none left. Without even a dowry, you would be considered useless for any Lord’s bride. 

Maybe not marriage…but perhaps, as you looked at the married couple kept as servants here- Mr. and Mrs. Kent. Saw them hold hands and exchange small kisses in hallways and smile…love. To be loved. To fall in love. To find romance. Somehow. Something you had never heard, experienced, and could only yearn for in your deepest heart…perhaps there was someone out there who could love you…

But perhaps that was only for daydreams and for sad romances with Knights pining for already married ladies. Much less a scullery maid. 

❛ ━━━━━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━━━━━ ❜

One December morning, you spent one of the few hours you had alone walking in the woods. You reached the clearing of a field not far away. The Natural spot was so peaceful. No Lord or Lady Brentford. No threats. No names. Just the early winter morning. 

You shivered in your dress. It was all you had on you.

That morning, you awoke to see the Lady Brentford. You did not mend her skirts to her liking. So she went to your room and in revenge, ripped apart your only cloak. She tossed it at you.

“There. Until you learn how to mend clothes the right way, stupid girl.”

You only held the torn cloak, tears pouring down over it. 

The sun was bright, and the grass frosted. The world was brisk and cold, but it got warm after exercise. The sun was bright. Your breath comes out in puffs of smoke.

Suddenly, you heard horse hooves. Turning your head, you jumped to see a great white stallion galloping and on top of it was a man in a red cloak. You took a few steps in retreat.

Before you could have a good look at the rider, the horse suddenly stopped and bucked, his front hooves in the air with a whinny. It was so sudden, that with a masculine shout, his rider fell off of his horse onto the grass.

You let out a gasp-was he injured? Yes, this was a stranger. And a man. And you were alone. But he could use the help! And if he was injured, he couldn’t hurt you!

“Sir, sir, are you hurt?” you cried, picking up your skirt to go there to see him.

Up got the man with a small grunt. 

You finally saw his face and you felt yourself stiffen. 

He was incredibly handsome. Young with high cheekbones and a high forehead. Auburn curls and trim facial hair with soft blue eyes and ivory skin. Tall and lean yet muscular and broad. Virile and powerful, but an air of charm, and elegance to him, though you could not name why you could tell.

 He managed to get up and wipe off his dirt on him, looking at you. He smiled, hands up in pace.

“I am alright! I’ve suffered worse!” he assured you. 

“Are you sure?” you asked.

“Of course, my lady!” he replied, bowing his head.

You felt yourself go warm. You had not been called “my lady” in years. Much less by a handsome man!

You then saw the horse a small distance away. Trotting off. The man whistled, but the horse did not respond.

You knew you had to feed Psyche later today. Her carrots were in your pocket. You pulled one out and lured it over. Surely, the white stallion walked over. Once you fed him the carrot, you pulled him by the reigns over to the man.

“Thank you- he’s not used to me. A rather naughty fellow, but he shall be my good friend long enough,” the man laughed.

“If you give him enough treats, I’m sure he will be your friend quickly.”

 “Thank you, my lady, you’re very kind. Do you need assistance getting home?” he asked.

For you to go home with a man?! They would think something less than chaste was happening out there. Especially since you were both a woman and a servant. Whores and thieves, that was what all thought maids to be.

“No thank you, I do not live too far,” you explained.

The sun went behind a cloud, giving it a slight chill. Though there was concern on his handsome face. 

“But without a cloak?” he asked, tilting his head.

“I…I have no cloak I may use and I wanted to walk. I could brave the cold. Once one moves about, it does get warm,” you told him. 

“Here, my lady��”

He took off his red cloak and put it over you You let out a small gasp. Feeling his hands brush past your shoulders as he sealed the clasp. It was so large it felt warm on you- the heat of his body and his scent still on it.

“Sir- this is too much!” you gasped.

“No, you may have it. I have a dozen others and you have none,” he refused, a kind smile on his face.

It was like an embrace. You touched the material, feeling it in your hands. It was high-quality cloth, likely expensive from the bright red. He must be some great lord who happened to ride by.

In his nice red leather jacket (it hugged his lean but broad form very nicely, you noted, feeling a sudden heat in you) he swung himself back up on the white stallion.

“Thank you, dear lady. For your concern to me.”

“And thank you, my lord, for your generous gift,” you replied. 

“Farewell for now.”

He smiled at you, nodding his head, and then he rode off. You couldn’t help but watch him as he left.

You burst into giggles as you walked through the forest, feeling as if you could float from such an encounter with such a handsome man. For one brief moment, the love story you craved had happened. You drew the cloak around you. Your mind racing with fantasies of an actual embrace from him. Or even more- if he kissed you!

You returned very warm. You folded the cloak and set it down among your things, even the torn-up cloak. You smiled- always keeping that memory in your heart. You would make sure to guard it carefully. But even if the Brentfords tore it up, they could never tear up your memory, your moment, your encounter with this dream of a man. Or your hope that you would someday see him again. 

❛ ━━━━━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━━━━━ ❜

The next day, amidst the fasting and preparations for the Christmastide season, there was a messenger who arrived at the door. He was dressed in fine reds and handed one male servant the letter. Up the servant came as you attended to the Brentfords. Eating their breakfast of simpler fare than they would like.

The servant looked flushed and wide-eyed. He held up the letter, declaring “My lord- it is an invitation from the king!” 

There were gasps around the table. From none other than the king! The newly crowned Henry the Fifth. Lady Brentford grabbed it and opened it, reading it aloud.

“We do cordially invite all eligible, unmarried ladies of this household to attend the ball hosted by the king on Twelfth Night. Each lady shall be introduced to his majesty the king in addition to a night of dancing, feasting, and frivolity.” 

Eyes went wide. You felt your heart begin to pound in your chest. 

“Oh! A ball! How wonderful!” cried the Lady Brentford.

“To have him write us alone is an honor!” agreed the Lord. Though their eyes turned greedily to their daughter. Lady Jane stopped eating her bread, it nearly dropped on her plate. 

You looked up from where you poured more drink into Jane’s cup.

“If he is asking to be introduced to eligible maidens...it means only one thing…” Jane began. Her face turned white, her appetite gone. 

“He is looking for a bride! Oh, could you imagine? Our Jane- Wife to the King and Queen of England?”

Jane gripped the edges of the table.

“Mother, father, please- I don’t want to go. Please. There are plenty of other women who would be more happy to be there than me!  I don’t want to be sold like cattle to a man I don’t know, please! And I hear he was a drunkard and a thief- I don’t want to marry a man like that, please!” Jane pleaded.

“And risk losing the chance to become queen? Besides, we hear he’s a young, comely man, it could be worse! There are lots of old men we could consider marrying you off to! You must go!” argued Lord Brentford

You stepped forward.

“What if…I went instead of Jane?” you asked meekly.

Eyes turned to you, but you stood your ground. 

“It said all eligible, unmarried ladies. I shall go in Jane’s place, so she doesn’t have to,” you said, a sudden rush of boldness in you. Perhaps it was the incident with the man the other day. You always wanted to go to a ball. And to go to a royal one was an honor.

Their heads turned.

“It shall break sumptuary laws for a maid to dress in finery. They could fine you. Or worse.” sneered Lord Brentworth.

“But I am Lady Y/L/N, like my mother was before me,” you blurted.

The Lord Brentford got up and slapped you hard across the face. 

Your eyes brimmed with tears, feeling the sting of the impact. 

“You are our servant and you will remember your place! And will hold your tongue and stay where you are, impertinent, foolish girl!”

You held your cheek, keeping your eyes down. The Lord continued.

“To think. You. A king’s bride- a queen? Yes, women like you were offered to him as whores, but I doubt he’d even want your filth in his bed, much less as his wife. You’d be lucky to polish his boots.”

They sat down, glaring at you.

“Now, there is laundry to be finished. And we have a ball to prepare Jane for- you must do it.”

You turned away, so they wouldn’t see you. You reached the smaller room for laundry. Where you could finally crumple to the ground and sob. 

❛ ━━━━━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━━━━━ ❜

Jane’s dress purchased for the ball was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. 

It was a creamy white with pearl embellishments. Richly made, beautiful. It shimmered in the light and seemed to glow when it became dark. Everyone smiled big at it as it was brought up. But the envy and greed in your heart stirred, making you feel heavy and bitter. Sometimes, You forced your eyes away from it. 

Christmastide arrived. With it numerous feasts. Some drinking and exchanging of gifts. The Lord and Lady were in sour moods but only softened when discussing their ambitions for their reluctant daughter. 

Before you knew it, the new year arrived and the fifth of January. The day before the ball. 

Jane looked at the dress laid out on her bed. You had merely sat on a chair behind her, mending her stockings. Everything in you not to cry.

“It is beautiful, I will admit. But…I have met cats more pleasant to talk to than some of the lords that will be there,” she sighed. “I love gossip and a nice meal as much as anyone else, but…how horrid I am at dancing! I know I will step on all of my poor partner's toes tomorrow night!”

Finally overcome, you set the stockings down.

“Jane, how can you say such things? Don’t you realize how fortunate you are?! Just merely go and enjoy yourself and think of your blessings!” you blurted out. 

She turned to you. You were tearing up.

“I’m so sorry, I’ll be quiet now-” you apologized.

“Y/N, you know I’m not my parents. I won’t punish you for being honest. What is it? You’re crying, tell me!” she asked. She walked away from you and knelt as you sat.

She gave you a handkerchief and you began to wipe away your tears. Her eyes looked concerned. 

“You’ll laugh at me,” you mused.

“I will not. Tell me what troubles you,” she offered. 

You gripped the handkerchief in your hands, squeezing it for support as you began to confess.

“I wish I could be you. To go to a ball and to meet a king and dance. To feel equal to the other ladies who get to be introduced to him. Yes, becoming queen does sound like a nice dream. But, it’s not just that…I just…always wanted to try a pretty dress and not have to spend my nights working. If my parents lived, I would have experienced one. If the Lord and Lady weren’t who they are, I would have, but now……”

She hugged you in comfort.

“Oh, I’m a selfish being, I am! I am so sorry, poor Y/N! I’ll be more careful, I swear it!”

You hugged her back. Then she looked at the dress, then you. There was a look in her face- a light in her eyes. One that could only be when she had an idea.

“Jane…what are you thinking of?” you asked.

“What if…you were the one to go? Wear the dress and attend the party? ” she asked.

“What! What if- what if they catch us? We’ll get in trouble! There will be other balls!" you cried.

“There won’t be other royal balls. And I know how every servant hates my parent and they love you! Please, we can trust them!”

“But…will they watch?”

“My mother and father are rather fond of strong wine on Twelfth Night….”

You felt your heart race.

“You said you always wanted to. And you should go. We’ll switch clothes in case they wake up! They’ll be too drunk anyway. And you know it is a royal carriage they are lending us with a royal driver and footman- they won’t know you! Would you like that?” she continued.

You paused, your heart racing. 

“You are a lady- you must accept it. Here- we shall keep it between us. We shall ask only a few servants…you will go to accompany me and wait- then we shall switch clothes. I shall be the maid to attend on you and you the lady! That way, if Mother and Father arrive in my room, they’ll see me gone and won’t suspect a thing!”

She was getting more excited, pacing about and talking. But then she turned to you.

“But…that is only if you want. It’s just an idea," Jane offered.

Your heart beat hard. A chance. It made you scared. You could get in trouble…but you never wanted to so badly to do it. You would go. Or die trying. At least once, you would fight for something you wanted.

“Jane, I accept your plan. Let’s make it happen.”

❛ ━━━━━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━━━━━ ❜

At last, it was Twelfth Night finally arrived. You and the other servants managed to get the Lord and Lady Brentford so drunk, they were laughing and red-faced. Jane was presented in her pretty dress and curtsied for their applause. Then they had to go to bed to sleep it off. It would be minutes until the carriage arrived.

Jane grabbed your hand. 

“Now, haste!” she hissed.

You raced to her room. She took off the dress, the servants all helping. She got into your plain dress and apron easily. You were given her fine necklace and her rings. Her little silvery slippers fit your feet perfectly. Then, at last, the dress was slipped over your head and sealed. It adjusts perfectly to your body. There was a soft gasp from one servant as they looked at you. Their eyes were made big and there were smiles.

“Is it…bad?” you asked.

“No…look,” Jabe offered, gesturing to the mirror in her room.

You hardly recognized the reflection. 

You were radiant- the way its color complimented you. It brought out your eyes and your skin seemed to glow almost. The gems sparkled as if they were stars adorned on your chest and fingers. 

“I…I look…” you muttered.

“I’ll say it- you look beautiful,” Jane said.

“Fie, Lady Y/L/N looks quite like a princess! They’ll think she’s sailed from France and my, won’t that be something!” agreed one servant. 

The carriage arrived. You both stepped forward. A footman in his finest gave came forth and helped you both into the carriage- the Lady and her maid. Then off it went. There was snow on the ground that shone in the darkness as it went forth. 

The stone castle arrived. You both were helped off. You could hardly believe it. It was at least three times the size of the Brentford Manor! Picking up your skirt, you went with Jane behind you.

There was already laughter and music. You could smell spices that made your mouth water.

You entered forth, seeing the torches lit around. There was a warm orange light. Part of the hall was cleared so couples could dance. Chatter erupted and wine flowed. You even felt eyes on you, admiring you in your dress. Though, you saw a line of women before one end of the room. The women to be introduced to the king.

“Lie to him, tell him you’re Lady Brentford!” advised Jane.

“I cannot lie to the king. Not without getting into trouble. I’ll only tell him my family name.” you said.

“S’blood, you are right there…best of luck!” she wished as she headed to help herself to the feast.

So all came forward to be introduced. Each lady. You all were smiling. You managed to chat with several by you. All excited and trying to suppress giggling. But it was brief, as there were many women. Apparently, according to them, you just told him your name, curtsied, and perhaps exchanged a sentence or two. Then you were dismissed for the next woman. Nothing more, nothing less.  The line went lower- you were happy to chat with them all. But all stilled as they got closer to the curtsy.

Then, before you knew it, it was down to the last three ladies before you. Then two. Then the last one turned and you faced the King of England, Scotland, Ireland, and Wales. 

There, on the throne, sat the man who fell from his horse.

The king?! The king!? The entire time it was the king! Oh God’s blood! He was the king! Harry of England! I have a cloak from none other than the king!  You panicked internally. Though your body tightened.

 Your skin tingled and a coldness hit your stomach when you saw him. Your hands were suddenly clammy. The wind was out of you.

Henry the Fifth of England sat rigid. You saw his jaw drop a little and his face go pale. He too was in surprise. 

Then he let out a small half laugh, a shaky smile growing on his face.

You gathered yourself together. Then, taking in a breath to ground yourself, you announced.

“I am Lady Y/F/N Y/L/N, your highness,” you introduced. Dipping into a curtsy.

He gestured his hand up to stop you from leaving. Your eyes fluttered down, folding your hands properly. Your heart hammered as he walked up, taking your chin and tilting it up. Your heart beat even harder. It was a miracle you were still standing.

He smiled, almost ironically. 

“How are you, Lady Y/L/N?” he asked. 

“Well, your grace.” you replied.

“Do you have a partner for the next dance?” he asked.

“No, your grace.”

“I believe I have sat long enough. I would like a dance with you, my lady, if you will have me, ” he offered. He extended his hand to you.

“You may, my lord,” you replied. Despite the slight trepidation, you accepted it.

He smiled at you, leading you down to the floor. You heard gasps, whispers, and saw many eyes staring. Some of the women from the line turning red as strawberries, fumes practically blaring out at them. You kept your eyes away from it all. Only at the floor, then up to him.

“I must warn you, I have no strength in dancing,” he warned you.

“Then perhaps this is only a practice dance, your grace,” you replied.

The couples went into lines. You curtsied and bowed. Took hands, walking back and forth. You realized Henry sometimes mixed up counts, but he was definitely not the worst. You smiled at him.

“How is your stallion, my lord?” you asked.

“He listens to me more. Would you like to know why?” he asked.

“Why?” 

He turned to you in the dance.

“He cannot resist being given food. And that I learned from a certain lady I met,” he answered.

You grinned up at him. The dance continued. You found your eyes could not lower from his. Yet you knew the steps, knew every one. You were almost floating. As he touched your hand and would lead you, it seemed he was getting better with each other count of the music. You could feel how soft his hands were, how warm. Sense his presence, his steps. Feel the tingles from his touch, from when he looked at you. For a while, it was as if you were the only ones dancing. 

Before you knew it, your dance with the king ended. He bowed and you curtsied. He then turned to line of women.

“I shall meet all of you, and shall spare a few dances, sweet, fair ladies,” he promised.

That seemed to appease them- you couldn’t blame them in the slightest.

Jane was already there to fetch you food and drinks now that she was satiated. To make sure all in your attire was well and good, ever the one to accompany a lady to make sure nothing less than chaste was occurring.

As the line shortened, you did notice Henry dancing with a few other ladies. Though there was a slight pang of jealousy, you did your best to ignore it for the other delights of the party- the rich decorations, the sumptuous food, the sweet sips of wine.  Besides, as you got to know plenty of people here, men and women, young and old, married or unmarried, you found them all kind and friendly to you. Your fellow eligible ladies befriended you as one among them, not as a rival to be torn apart. None even suspecting you were a servant- only a fellow and equal guest of this ball. Even seeing if you could come to this dinner or this ball in the future or visit. You were making friends outside of your small circle. Friends who wanted you to be with them. 

Though you found that since the king had danced with you, you got attention from several other men. And there were more dances you had with them. They were handsome and some were lovely dancers in all. Though one gentleman with scruffy red hair and boyish freckles seemed stiff as a board as you danced with him.

“What is it, my lord?” you asked.

“His grace, the king, is staring-” he whispered.

“He watches everything that goes on,” you dismissed as you took and retook hands in the dance.

“Not at me. He’s stared at you the entire night,” he grumbled.

As your eyes flashed, you saw it was true. Henry’s eyes were on you. Floating up to meet yours again. Recatching your breath, you made yourself focus again on the dance until it ended.

As soon it ended, the king approached you.

“May I have another dance, my lady?” he asked.

After you accepted, he did not hesitate to lead you on the floor. This time, not a single word passed. You felt his eyes, and noticed his touch more. You felt very warm all over all of a sudden.  His dancing was better, no counts or steps missed at all. You had to catch your breath from his quiet intensity. Before you knew it, it ended.

The king allowed the party to go on, but asked to speak to you in private. Jane was there to chaperone in the back. Her eyes big as you knew it was everything in her not to say or react to something. She merely folded her hands and watched in awe and suppressed laughter. 

“I know you…we met before, Lady Y/L/N” he said.

“We have, my lord.”

“And you truly did not have a cloak at all, my lady?” he asked, noticing your fine gown.

“If I may be honest…it was destroyed by someone in an act of cruelty,” you replied.

His brow furrowed a little in response.

“But I am grateful his majesty was generous to give me his, I am,” you assured him.

“You are…and you live with this cruel person?”

You let out a slight sigh.

“I only wish I could…I could be like you in your wars and fight as you do with France. I’m not a brave person, your grace.” you replied.

His blue eyes softened.

“I wish it hadn’t happened to you. You do not deserve it."

“She would disagree,” you mused.

“No! You are a good lady-you have been nothing but the sweetest maid I have met, even that morning!” he cried.

You felt yourself get a little dizzy at his words. He even blushed, then he looked at you.

“ Perhaps, like my dancing, you may practice being brave.”

“I…I believe I could, my lord,” you replied.

He offered his hand again. How lovely the garden looked with the snow, cooling you from all the exercise with dancing. Already it was late-the ball was winding down.

 “I enjoyed my time with you, my lady Y/L/N.”

“As have I, my lord…”

There was the pealing of a bell. The time was winding down. A servant went up and whispered to Jane. She hurried up.

“Our carriage is about to leave, my lady,” she said.

She turned back to the corner, watching the party guests begin to leave. But…Henry’s hand in yours…nothing ever felt so…so right. You hadn’t the heart to flee him. Not with the sad look on his face.

“The Y/L/N family…that is a house that is of good repute, but small. Where is your father, my lady? Is he here tonight?” he asked.

You only eyed back at the vanishing crowd. “He…he is not here,” you finally answered.

You felt emotions bubbling in you. He let go and you began to increase your steps from him. But then he grabbed your hand and you turned.

“My lord!” you cried. 

“Please, tell me one thing- where can I call on you? Invite you? Find you? See you again?” he asked, almost pleading.

The look in his eyes was almost heartbreaking. Though Jane was getting huffy and impatient, you went up to him, your voice a whisper.

“I live in the Brentford Manor, with the Lord and Lady there.” you replied.

His jaw hung a little loose. Then his hand let you go. They both hung in the air until they fell.

“I shall see you anon then, my lady.”

“I shall see you anon then, my lord.”

With that, you left, picking up your skirts to hurry to the carriage.

 As soon as  you got into the carriage with Jane and closed the door, she laughed  and applauded.

“Not one but two dances with the king?! Oh fie! How incredible! And you met him already?!”

The carriage jerked into motion as it headed back to the manor. Breathlessly, you explained everything to her.

“Am I in danger?” you asked.

“In danger of making him fall for you! But at least one day you’ll have the most incredible story to tell your children! How glad I am it all worked!” she laughed.

When you returned at the ungodly hour, you hurried to her room and switched clothes. Yet your head was still ringing and your heart beating fast, your mind and body still reeling until it could shut down for a little sleep. You wished you could write it all down- of your one night where you danced with the king.

❛ ━━━━━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━━━━━ ❜

It was four days since Twelfth Night and the Tenth day of the new year.  You had to content yourself with your life as a servant. The Lord and Lady were of a milder temper. As far as they knew, Jane introduced herself and curtsied before the king and that was it.  

That morning, you were serving their breakfast. You cut the bread into slices and brought it up to the table to the family. They placed it down, the knife still on there with the other cutlery.

There was a knock. Heads turned. A servant ran over in.. Red cheeked and breathless, his voice a high cry.

“His Majesty, the king, is here!” he yelled.

There was half a scream and Lady Jane nearly dropped her plate out of her hands. There was a flutter like no other, making sure all was clean and presentable. 

“He’s here for you- I know it! He’s here for you!” cried the Lady Brentford. 

She began  pinching her daughters cheeks to make them redder and prettier in her eyes and fussing and whispering. One heard the marching of boots. Your own heart beat harder than it ever had and you shook as you tried with the other servants to dress the place up.

Finally, a servant announced his presence and all stood up. In, sure enough, walked King Henry in his beautiful red leathers and his crown. Your breath stopped as you noticed a little bouquet of flowers in his hands.

 All bowed and curtsied respectfully, then returned to await what he would say.

Henry took off his crown and handed it to a servant. Then he looked around the crowd. You didn’t know if you wanted to shrink or run or both.

“I am here for the Lady Y/L/N. Does she reside here?” he asked.

Their lips curled. They gasped.

“Her-her??” Lady Brentford cried.

The Lord Brentford turned her head to you, his nose flaring. His hands reaching forward, ready to grab you, drag you by the ear to be beaten, box an answer out of you.

“What have you done with the king, you little slut?!”

There was a shift in that second, some of Henry’s guards, even Henry himself was ready to intervene.

Acting quickly, quicker than you ever had, You reached for the table and got the knife, pointing it to Lord Brentford. 

“Do not lay a hand on me or you won’t have one!” you rebuked.

Henry stepped forward, his voice angry.

“Lord Brentford, Are you going to deny the King an answer to his question?” he asked.

Heads turned over to you. Jane was smiling seeing the knife still in your hand. Then the Lord Brentford relented and gestured to you.

“She lives here, your majesty.”

Setting the knife back down on the table, you were gestured to step forward and curtsy. He looked at you in your servant's clothes which made your stomach twist in shame. But you held your own ground, poised with folded hands and kept your eyes up at him.

“May I have a word with her in private, Lord Brentford?” he asked.

They all bowed and relented- his servants to accompany you.

He stepped forth and seemed to blush as he handed you the flowers.

“These are for you, my lady” he said.

“They’re beautiful, thank you,” you replied. You took the bouquet in your hands, feeling it’s sweet scent.

His hands free, you saw him clench and unclench his fists nervously.

“Fair lady-I do not know how to say this. I’m not good with words, or speaking with women…” he began.

That itself made you smile.

“Lady Y/L/N, I am a king…and I am a man too. And I speak to you as one now. Should you refuse, I shall never bother you again. But if you shall, would you allow a hardened soldier to speak of tenderness and affection? To spend time to know this lady and plead his cause to her heart? I offer my friendship at least. At most, as your suitor. Only if you shall have me, Harry of England, as yours. To pursue you, ask for you, care for you. To court you, not as king and subject, but as a man and a woman, only if you accept me. What say you, dearest, fairest lady?”

You brimmed with joy. You felt a free hand clutch your chest, wondering if this was even real. But you knew who was the one in fine leather and who was the one in simple cloth. 

“My lord, I must tell you something…”

He nodded, listening. You took in a breath and began.

“I am the Lady Y/L/N. My parents died and their fortune dwindled. Leaving me with nothing but the title and what dignity we had left. As you can see, the house of Brentford took me in. But other than the kindness shown by their daughter, the Lord and Lady…do not consider me family. They have made me a servant here and I have worked as one since I was very young. If you are willing to court a lady with nothing but an empty title and a heart full of affection for you, you may. If not, I shall let you go. I shall not begrudge or ask you to change your ways. I understand them. I have nothing to offer to you that you may benefit- no lands, no armies, no alliances, and most of all, no dowry.” 

“My lady, you yourself are a dowry,” Henry replied.

A gasp escaped you and you felt everything inside you become warm.

He offered your hand. And you placed yours in it.

“Then…I Accept you as my suitor, my lord.” you said.

He smiled even wider, putting his other hand over yours.

“We have a special dinner prepared in the palace. Would you dine with me?” he asked.

“I shall be glad to…I only ask one thing and one thing in turn in our courtship. This and nothing else…I only ask for shelter. For an escape from this place. To stay in a different home far from Lord and Lady Brentford. You saw what happened-this has been my life for many long years. I want to leave this place, to no longer be under their power. But give only the dearest blessing to their daughter, the lady Jane, and their servants, for without their help the years would have been unbearable…and we would not have crossed paths again. If you cannot grant me shelter from the Lord and Lady, then protection from them,” you requested.

He clutched your hands a little tighter, almost shaking them.

“I shall my lady, you need not be afraid of the Lord and Lady anymore. I will fulfill your wish…and you shall be safe. I shall do everything in my power…may I kiss your hand?”

“Yes.”

He took your hand and kissed it gently, and sweetly. His goatee tickling a little of your skin and his lips soft.

He asked his servants to gather your things, quickly. Much to the astonishment of the whole house. But none dare resist the orders of the king.

 “You shall stay as a guest of the palace until a family, a new one, may take you in. I promise, there are plenty who shall not treat you as they have,” he vowed.

He looked at you with a smile. You then went to your room and wrapped the warm red cloak over you. Then, right before the door, stood the family. You embraced each servant as they congratulated you. Then you went to you hugged Jane with a smile.

“Oh, I feel like I am abandoning you!” you sighed.

“Oh no! Do not fret! I can handle my parents, I will not let my them break me. I will fight them every step of the way. Just write to me often, promise.”

“This wouldn’t have happened without you, I am forever in your debt, Jane.” you replied.

“You already helped heal my leg back then. Then your friendship is the only credit I shall ask for.” she replied.

You hugged again as a goodbye.

You then turned to the Lord and Lady Brentford. They did not speak, but you did.

“I shall never forget your cruelty. Your harshness. I held my tongue to survive-but now I can speak. I do not love either of you. I dislike you both more than any person in the world. If anyone asks me of you, I shall tell them everything you said and did to me, for it is the truth. Of the names you called me, the things of mine you destroyed, and of the times you beat me and broke me. And do not think, should the day ever come that God makes me queen, that you shall receive any help from me. I shall never step foot in this place again or call on you.From this day on, I do not know who either of you are. You are both cruel, heartless, selfish miscreants. May you answer to God and only He may show you any mercy He deigns you both to deserve. You shall have none from me.” 

King Henry offered you his arm and you took it. How warm it felt-you could feel his muscles beneath his leathers, but how smooth it was and how pleasant he even smelled!

“Now…are you ready my lady?” he asked.

You only looked back at the place, and the people standing there. Then back at the handsome, kind face of your regal suitor.

“I am, my most gracious Lord.”

He walked you to outside the door where the carriage awaited. The snow falling gently, blanketing the world in soft, white blankets.

“When we are alone…would you call me Harry? Henry perhaps, too,” he replied.

“Yes, Henry,” you replied.

He blushed a little to hear his name. He were helped into the carriage next to him.

Henry smiled at you kindly as he sat next to you.

“Thank you. For everything” you wished him.

 “Of course, Y/F/N.”

You could have melted how he said your first name. He then held up your hand again and gave it another peck from his lips.

“My, you like to hold and kiss my hand, Henry!” you teased.

“If only it wasn’t so easy to hold and dear to kiss!” he replied with a smile.

 Your eyes forward, not daring to look back. Only forward as the carriage moved away. One part of your life ending and another beginning. To live a new life from now on.

A life where you were finally loved.

[animehouse-moe]

Pride Month Manga Recommendations: Currently Releasing

It's the first day of Pride Month, so why not find some LGBTQ+ manga to read to kick off the start of June? Take a look through this thread of 10 currently releasing manga and light novels to find a new series to pick up, starting with-

The Summer Hikaru Died - Soon To Be an Anime!

Yoshiki and Hikaru were best friends, until Yoshiki notices a change in the boy and comes to find out that he's been replaced by some sort of monster that proclaims his love for Yoshiki.

A fittingly disturbing affair, The Summer Hikaru Died does wonderful work as a horror manga, and expertly intertwines Yoshiki and "Hikaru's" emotions and feelings for one another with the dark and foreboding tone of the series.

Whisper Me A Love Song - A Currently Airing Anime!

Yori Asanagi is a girl better at guitar than love, but what happens when underclassman Himari Kino falls in love with that guitar work? Well, a string of misunderstandings appears that sets in motion this love song of a story.

Whisper Me A Love Song is certainly a bit close to cliché or melodramatic, but with Takeshima Eku's art, it becomes quite the appealing series. Certainly for fans of a more typically-styled love story, Whisper Me A Love Song is a very fun read!

I Married My Female Friend - from the author of Doughnuts Under A Crescent Moon

One day at a festival, Kurumi and Ruriko made a "promise" to each other: in 5 years, if neither found a partner, they would get married. That period elapses, and Ruriko comes racing back to Kurumi with a marriage certificate in hand.

I Married My Female Friend is both a lighthearted yet emotionally aware manga that feels like a spiritual successor to Doughnuts Under a Crescent Moon, skipping the challenges of finding love & heading for the difficulty of being in love.

Seaside Stranger - Also A Major (Animated) Motion Picture

A story of two young men estranged from their parents, Seaside Stranger finds a difficult love blossom on a remote island that begins as confinement for the pair as they work through their challenging feelings and pasts.

Kii Kana's art is really something, and studio Hibari's adaptation is equally beautiful- extracting the most out of this dramatic (and steamy) romance. I might add though that it's not quite for those brand new to BL thanks to explicit content, but it's a great read nonetheless.

Otherside Picnic - Both An Anime And Manga

Sorawo Kamikoshi, a university student, spends her free time exploring a creepy pasta-esque dimension she calls the Otherside where she meets Toriko Nishina as the two narrowly escape the clutches of death, starting their journey.

While it's certainly quite the slow-burn of a romance, Iori Miyazawa's horror-filled world is bursting with passion and discomfort in equal amounts, making for a riveting read with a romance that feels impressively real. There's also an anime.... but it doesn't quite deliver.

Cinderella Closet

Haruka's a "plain jane" who left the countryside to live a bright and fashionable life in Tokyo- which she struggles with before meeting her "fairy godmother" Haruka- a young person with an incredible eye and interest for women's fashion and makeup.

In a sense, Cinderella Closet is a very loud depiction of romance in "the big city", throwing curve balls and both romantic & emotional challenges at every turn. In the end though, it remains a very positive and encouraging story with each turn, making for a great read.

The Contract Between a Specter and a Servant

On the worst- and final- day of Masamichi Adachi's life, he's hit by a car and left to die in the streets at night... until the enigmatic Shino offers him a contract to save his life.

While in the same genre as Otherside Picnic, this light novel certainly leans more into traditional horror as it explores a tense but intriguing relationship between Masamchi and Shino. A unique and engaging (re-released) light novel, it's an easy choice for fans of horror!

I Want To Be A Wall

Though Yuriko and Gakurouta are married, no love blossoms between them, as Yuriko is asexual (and a fan of BL) and Gakurouta stills holds feelings for his oblivious (male) childhood friend close to his heart.

Sporting a wonderfully unique concept, I Want To Be A Wall is a story that more so focuses on the wedded couple's humorous day-to-day lives than anything. A very light and enjoyable series, it's very easy to recommend to just about anyone.

Confessions of a Shy Baker

Toshimitsu Yamamura owns a real estate company and is a baking fanatic- spurred on by the sweet tooth of his boyfriend Gonta. One day however, Toshi gets pushed towards advertising his services as LGBTQ-friendly, forcing him to reconcile with how this move that would help others might out himself as gay.

A manga that delicately balances the societal struggles of being gay with a bright and heartwarming romance centered around baking, Confessions of a Shy Baker is a great jack all of trades manga.

Our Not-So-Lonely Planet Travel Guide

Overly serious Asahi Suzumura and equally laid-back Mitsuki Sayama made each other a promise: together, they'll travel around the world, and when they return to Japan they'll get married.

A beautiful story that throws readers out into the world through destinations and stories, this is a manga that does everything it can within its pages. A forbidden love, a forgotten partner, struggles with laws that forbid love- together they explore this world and each other.

And that's all the recommendations for today, if you have any more you'd like to add feel free to share them here!

[buckets-and-trees]

Chris Evans Characters

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

Unless specifically noted, all of my stories feature a female reader insert character.

dividers by my lovely wife @rookthornesartistry

feat. Andy Barber, Ari Levinson, Curtis Everett, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale

Andy Barber

I’M YOUR MAN soft!dark mafia AU dubious consent, forced marriage, explicit smut

↠ I'm Your Man [3k] ↠ Morning Radiance [750] ↠ Prepare for Takeoff [1.5k] ↠ Don't Look Too Far [6.4k] ↠ Burned Off the Haze [4.5k] ↠ Cracking Locks [5k] ↠ ask: a moment on your honeymoon [350] ↠ Make Her Glow [1k]

EXTRAS: ↠ will Andy let the reader work? ↠ what if Andy were forced into marriage with the reader?

Ari Levinson

Obsidian Stain and Sin [8.1k] Ari x reader x Curtis Everett tattoo artist modern AU soft!dark, initial mildly dubious consent, explicit smut, many kinks

+ Taking You Home [6.2k] + Worship in the Bedroom [3.2k] + Get Closer to Me [5.8k] + Sleeplessly Embracing You [2.4k]

Slope - Concept Pitch [2.5k] modern AU - some college, then mid-30s second chance half imagine, half storytelling

Lakehouse Ari ask/thot [160] Quite the Morning [1.6k] mfm with Nick Fowler modern AU - brother's best friend, first part of The Lake House soft dark, smut

Waiting On One Look [300] apocalyptic omegaverse AU soft dark world, but not a soft dark Ari

Crimson Mornings [500] Ari x reader x Bucky Barnes explicit smut

Curtis Everett

Obsidian Stain and Sin [8.1k] Curtis x reader x Ari Levinson tattoo artist modern AU soft!dark, initial mildly dubious consent, explicit smut, many kinks

+ Taking You Home [6.2k] + Worship in the Bedroom [3.2k] + Get Closer to Me [5.8k]

an ask about a water creature C!Evans character [1.2k] + Never Going Back Again [3.7k] Bolotnik!Curtis Everett x reader undefined time period AU explicit smut, first piece: non/dubious consent, second piece: full consent, terato/monster fucking

Lloyd Hansen

HUFFILY EVER AFTER: A CINDERELLOYD STORY modern AU, Cinderella adaptation, unknown identities + enemies/rivals to lovers, eventual smut

+ Chapter One: The Masquerade [5k] + Chapter Two: Conference Day One [6.4k] + Chapter Three: The Panel [4k] + Chapter Four: The Awards Gala [6.5k] [Monday Update Schedule]

WELCOME HOME, PUMPKIN  set of three stories utilizing the same opening and sharing lines of dialogue and narrative but with soft, soft dark, and dark results

↠ soft: Sugar Pumpkin ask: before you got together | fic: Room to Grow | ask: holiday Lloyd - Christmas while you're pregnant ↠ soft!dark: Spiced Pumpkin ↠ dark: Smashed Pumpkin

Unholy Errand [4k] Lloyd x reader, God the Bounty Hunter x reader, Ransom Drysdale dark, non-consent, dubious consent, explicit smut

Lloyd punishment ask [500] explicit smut, bondage, dom vibes

Lloyd hearteyes ask [330] light smut

Ransom Drysdale

Between the Lines [4.4k] post-Knives Out, fake engagement, slow burn, forced proximity, "enemies" to lovers, off-page smut

Steve Rogers Collecton

Main Masterlist

[greenconverses]

Recently read: Closing in on the last batch of books of the year! If I try reaaaaaally hard, I might make it to 80, but 70-75 seems more likely.

Immortal Dark by Tigest Girma was another disappointing dark academia/urban fantasy, courtesy of Owlcrate. I liked chunks in the middle, but the first and last 100 pages dragged something fiercely. Like most YA/New Adult romantasy books these days, the world building and magic system were half-baked, and the romance was uninspired. Gonna take a break from my remaining Owlcrate pile because it's been rough. (★★.5)

Lost & Lassoed is Lyla Sage's best book so far, but I was still hoping for more from Teddy and Gus. Antagonistic characters falling in love is my fav, and while this scratched the itch, it didn't fully satisfy me. Gotta throw in more angst and drama with these types of romances, I think. (★★★.5)

Uzma Jalaluddin has done such great work with her contemporary Muslim Jane Austen adaptions, and Much Ado About Nada was no exception. I gasped when the twist was revealed -- always a good sign, haha. Excellent second chance romance. (★★★★.5)

While at the library the other day, I checked out every book in the Meant to Be series, which are contemporary adult adaptations of Disney stories. I read the Cinderella book a while back, but held off on By the Book because I don't vibe with Jasmine Guillory's writing style. Unfortunately, that's still true, which sucks because Beauty and the Beast is my FAVORITE and I'm so disappointed. Katherine Center did the "aspiring writer helps spoiled Hollywood man" concept so much better in The RomCommers, so just read that instead. I'm a little nervous about the other two books now, especially since the Tangled-inspired one is written by Christina Lauren and their quality is mixed, at best. I guess we'll see! (★★)

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Judy Holliday (Born Yesterday, Bells Are Ringing)—Judy Holliday was the whole package--actress, singer, dancer, and comedienne--she lights up the screen in such a powerful way that she outshines everyone else. Here she is in a supporting role in Adam's Rib (1949) giving her statement to lawyer (Katharine Hepburn) on why she shot her cheating husband [editor's note: tw for domestic abuse & murder mentions] In every movie I've seen her in my heart goes out to her, she's so authentic and beautiful. She's proof that it takes smart to play dumb, and can make me laugh and cry in the same scene let alone the same movie. Film historian Bernard Dick on Holliday: "Perhaps the most important aspect of the Judy Holliday persona, both in variations of Billie Dawn and in her roles as housewife, is her vulnerability... her ability to shift her mood quickly from comic to serious is one of her greatest technical gifts." She won the Oscar for Best Actress (beating out Gloria Swanson, Bette Davis, and Anne Baxter) for her performance in Born Yesterday.

Carmen Sevilla (La fierecilla domada/La mégère apprivoisée, La Venganza, King of Kings)— One of the few spanish actresses to really make it in Hollywood. She worked opposite Charlton Heston in the 1970s and reportedly slapped him but that is past the cut-off so you can look it up for yourselves. There's also rumors that Frank Sinatra had a bit of a crush on her and asked her out a couple of times but she rejected him. The woman was just messy as hell in general and an absolute icon. Bless.

This is round 2 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Judy Holliday:

Mostly remembered for beating screen legends Gloria Swanson and Bette Davis at the Oscars for her performance as ditzy blonde Billie Dawn in Born Yesterday, Judy Holliday was an incredible actress whose charm, vulnerability, and humour impressed Katharine Hepburn so much that Hepburn helped her secure the role of Billie Dawn in the screen adaptation of Born Yesterday by getting her a role in 'Adam's Rib', starring Hepburn and Tracy, when Judy was deemed 'too unknown'. Holliday was also an incredibly smart Jewish leftist, who played the ditzy blonde part again when pulled up by HUAC for 'communist sympathies'. She never named names and managed to avoid getting blacklisted. What a queen. She also had an incredible and unique voice and one of the best smiles in the business.

HOT. FUNNY. JEWISH. BLONDE. WOMAN.

She was a singer, dancer, comedienne, and Oscar-winning actress (for Born Yesterday), and she had a gorgeous curvy Cinderella vibe that is everything to me. The part of Lina Lamont in Singin' in the Rain was written for her, but after she won her Academy Award the producers realized she was far too big a star for a supporting role, so her friend Jean Hagen did a perfect impression of how Judy would play it, and she got the part!

SOMEONE PLEASE TALK ABOUT BELLS ARE RINGING??? HELLO??? THE FUNNIEST COMEDIENNE MY GOD SMART AND FUNNY AND HOT AS HELL?

this woman had an IQ of 172!! she was a jewish new yorker!! investigated for communist sympathies and named no names!! tony and oscar winning actress!! leonard bernstein thought of marrying her???? which part of this is not fabulous i ask you that right now

[byeoltoyuki]

hii could you please write a lee know x reader parenting series where they are like married and have a one month old baby 😭 my mind goes crazy everytime i think about minho as a dad

Hello sweet anon! A serie would be a big thing and even if I love the idea, I sadly don't have enough time to write it since I have already so much on my wiplist ;_; Now that being said, I still wrote a small drabble because I also live for dad Minho. I changed the age to six months, it was easier for me this way :). Hopefully you'll like it ♥

genre: established relationship / fluff overload /

***

“No one shall be my wife but she whose foot this golden slipper fits.” Minho read out loud, Minji nicely placed on his laps. He didn’t think it could possibly calm his six months old baby, she was too young, and yet it was doing a rather good job. She stopped crying the moment he started reading, doing his best to put as many emotions as he could into his voice. He tried to adapt along with the characters he played. And Minji? She seemed to love that as she giggled loudly every time his voice changed.

So he kept reading, stopping from time to time just so he could kiss the crown of Minji’s head.

“This also is not the right one,” said he, “have you no other daughter?” “No” said the man “There is still a little stunted kitchen-wench which my late wife left behind her, but she cannot possibly be the bride.”

Minho had to stop the urge to close the book. Fairy tales were not his cup of tea, especially those with princesses that needed to be saved. Clearly, Cinderella wasn’t a princess but definitely one young, lovely woman that needed some serious saving. He wasn’t fond of that. Yet, for the sake of his own daughter’s entertainment, he kept reading.

“That is the true bride!” The step-mother and the two sisters were terrified and became pale with rage; he, however, took Cinderella on his horse and rode away with her.

“Nope.” Minho closed the book and pushed it away from him. “I can’t. That some serious bull-“ he stopped right on time before the curse left his lips. He scooped Minji in his arms and looked fondly at her. “You, my sweet, little angel, don’t need a man.” And with that he peppered her face with kisses until she squealed and tried to push him away with her tiny hands.

Minho was enjoying his sweet father-daughter moment, he failed to notice that you were finally back from your first, little girls’ night. At least, until he heard your sweet chuckle.

“I thought you said you’ll never, ever, read her bed time stories, hm?” You teased, knowing how much those stories repulsed him. The day he saw you buying those books, he was read to set them on fire. And yet, look at him now.

For the sake of pettiness, he ignored your comment and instead gave his full attention to Minji. “You’re gonna be a strong, independent and lovely woman.” Minho told her softly before his eyes found yours, he just couldn’t help it. “Just like your mom. You won’t need a man to be happy.”

Of course, he would say something like that, you thought. You were used to him being all snarky and teasing, sometimes looking and sounding cold and yet he had the biggest and softest heart you had ever met.

With a big smile plastered on your face, you got closer to the bed. You kissed Minji’s head before pecking Minho’s lips. “Cute. But should I remind you that this,” You pointed at yourself,” Incredible, beautiful, strong and absolutely hilarious wife of yours still needed a man like you to make her life perfect, hm?”  

Minho considered your words for a moment, his eyes darting back and forth between you and your baby. “True. But she’s not allowed to date. That’s it.” No man could be enough, could be good enough for his little girl. Not in this world.

“Minho!” You groaned. You should have known the day you found out you were expecting a girl that Minho would be, from time to time, an overprotective dad.

“What?” He feigned innocence.

“You know you can’t shield her forever, right?”

“Fine. She can date.” He agreed, “But only once I’m dead and buried.”

Yeah, it was too good to be true, you told yourself. You smiled nevertheless. “And then you’ll come and haunt the poor man?”

Minho’s grin turned pure evil. Of course, you saw right through him after years of knowing each other. With Minji, still in his arms, he stood up from the bed and brought her back to her cradle. He kissed her head and straightened back to look at you. “Exactly.”

You laughed at his words, at his confidence and fierceness. You wrapped your arms around him and rested your head against his back. He felt warm and like home. “You’re impossible.”

“And that’s why you love me.”

“Unfortunately.”

“Take that back, lady!” He turned to face you, hands on his hips, he feigned annoyance but the glint in his eyes told you another story. “Take that back or else,”

“Or what?” You dared him, knowing damn well you were in troubled waters.

Before you could do some more provoking, Minho grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder making you squeal in return.

“Minho!”

But he only laughed and slapped your ass for good measure. “Let me show you.”