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queenie-official · 1 year ago

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Chapter Twelve: ‘A Royal Scandal’ Bridgerton Au!Anakin

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

a/n: angst 😀 seatbelts on 🗣️

News travels fast everywhere, that was a fact. everybody loves a good piece of gossip. Now royal gossip- that was like a rare jewel that everyone wanted to buy. if you could take that rare jewel, copy it and give one to anyone willing to buy it you would be rich. so when a new tabloid came out just to write about what went down at parliament it truly didn’t come as a surprise.

Lady whistledown was the name of the anonymous writer who stepped up to the plate. you’d never heard of her. no one had, but her paper spread everywhere very quickly. Padme had been the one to bring the paper to you, it was exaggerated for sure but none of it was necessarily a lie either.

you could feel her eyes on you as you read over the paper clearly trying to figure out wether she would have to comfort you in anyway. but for some reason you found yourself calm? maybe numb was the better word. Lady whistledown’s paper did a good job at laying everything out in a way to keep people hooked, you could admit that as an avid reader. she also brought up some good questions that you had a feeling the rest of the Ton where definitely asking.

as a royal you have to learn to exist under the microscope of your people, that came with the job. but this felt different. this was more than just your people, this was all the neighboring kingdoms as well. ‘how could the murder of a king go unnoticed?’ ‘would there be a more severe punishment for something so large?’ ‘how can we ensure this won’t happen again?’ ‘if there was already a attempt on the new kings life can we really say any of the royals are safe?’

this was more than just a scandal it was a political nightmare. how do you even begin to address these issues? and even if you did how to you prove what you say to be true? you couldn’t say it won’t happen again because it very well could. endless streams of these thoughts swirled in your head as you finally looked up to meet Padme’s gaze. there was nothing but pure concern on your best friends face as she looked over you, searching for anything. sadness, fear, anger but there was nothing. you just sat there and did nothing, which to her was more concerning then if you did freak out.

“y/n?” she reached over and took your hand into hers as she spoke. it was all too much, you felt like you could snap under the pressure at any moment. the current numbness the only thing protecting your sanity. you don’t say anything in return, afraid that if you speak you’ll break.

overnight this was printed, overnight it seemed the entire world new what took place yesterday. Padme continued to stare at you sympathetically, silently debating whether to speak again. though in all honesty there wasn’t much else to say, there wasn’t anything she could say.

you stand up from your seat and she quickly follows suit, pulling you into a hug before you could get away. you stay like that for just a moment before pulling away and walking silently out of the room.

you knew it was wrong. you knew of all times to have people at your side, now would be the best time to do so. but you couldn’t help it, isolating yourself the same way you felt emotionally. it was like you where punishing yourself further for something that wasn’t even your fault, it was easier then facing reality.

to let yourself scream and cry felt to hard, if you let yourself feel that way- let yourself fall. you weren’t sure you’d be able to stand again, or breathe properly. Not on your own anyway, and that was even scarier, letting people in to help build you back up. What if you lost them? those support beams taken from you, you’d hit the ground hard. truly unable to get back up. no you couldn’t let them in, it was easier this way. so that’s what you did.

pushed them away, it was difficult not just because it was hard for you to shut them out but also because Padme and Anakin in particular where very stubborn individuals. honestly you where pretty sure they were working together, you’d tell the guards not to let her in the castle only for her to visit you in your study as if the order hadn’t been given at all. not even Braeden stopped her, and when you’d asked he’d simply reply he was given an order to allow her to visit at all times. there was only one other person who could give an order of such authority to him so you knew exactly who to blame.

Padme’s persistence was futile, it become a routine at this point she’d visit against your wishes and join you in your daily tasks. speak to you even though you refused to speak back, she acted as if everything was normal even though it wasn’t. it was infuriating but if you reacted you knew it would be the final push that broke you. Anakin was just as bad if not worse, he lived with you after all.

no matter how big the castle was it never seemed big enough with how easily he’d find you. try to get you to talk, to look at him. but you couldn’t if you looked at him you knew you’d cave. so you did your best to make sure he was almost never in the same room as you. but Anakin was a relentless person, if the stories he’d told you about him and Obi-Wan where anything to go off of you shouldn’t be surprised.

there was something else as well. he was growing just about as frustrated as you.

you where standing in your undergarments, Eleanora placing on your petticoats in silence. she wanted to say something but if padme couldn’t even get a word out of you she doubted she’d be any different.

to occupy yourself- more like torment, you reread Lady whistledowns tabloid as well as the new articles that had come out. questions of when the situation would be addressed publicly as well as who’d be replacing the council members began to rise more and more you’d noticed. “Get Out” your head snapped up to the person who’d let themselves in your room before quickly looking back down.

Anakin had let himself in and was staring directly at Eleanora when he spoke, you where silently grateful he hadn’t been looking at you because you weren’t sure what you’d of done if eye contact was made. you watched through your peripheral vision as she bowed to him and then exited the room closing the door behind her. now it was just you two, and you still hadn’t even finished getting dressed. but there he stood, arms crossed and staring directly at you.

“you cannot ignore me forever” he’s met with silence, you can feel the Tension in the air begin to grow stronger. “at least look at me” he steps into your field of vision but you quickly advert your eyes. “y/n” he reaches out for you and you step back, you hear him sigh frustratedly. “i am not leaving until you speak to me, and it’s not like you can exit the room dressed as you are so there’s no where to run” you huff but do not speak.

if only ignoring him was that easy, but you are very quickly reminded as to why you’d refused to be in the same room as him. for some reason you found it much harder to ignore his pleas than Padme’s, perhaps it was something about his voice that just tugged at your heart as if he himself controlled wether or not it truly broke. “why are you doing this?” the question was so simple and you knew he knew why just as much as anyone did. shockingly however no one had bothered asking, and the way he asked. the pure desperation in his voice, like it physically hurt him to see you like this. it was all too much and he’d barely done anything at all- that angered you.

you felt it boil up, everything you’d been feeling and pushing down swirling together to make a crimson red. “just leave!” you shout, it came out broken and raspy not haven spoken in so long. “leave me alone.” you added your voice deepening in a attempt to come off more commanding then you where. “no.” you take a sharp breath in at his calm answer biting your tongue so you wouldn’t shout again. “i said to leave.” you state trying to stay as levelheaded as you could.

“you can’t even look at me as you say that” he scoffed, why was he making this so difficult. “Anaki-” you’re cut off by him, a sudden bout of anger and frustration of his own taking over. “i will not leave you! i cannot leave you! not like this, while you’re so broken. those shattered parts of you trying to cut whatever they can.” his voice grows louder with each sentence, hoping that if he screams loud enough you may actually hear what he was trying to say to you.

“you may not love me y/n but i love you.” you feel the air knocked out of your lungs, snapping your head up to meet his face as you try to process if you’ve heard him correctly. “i’ve fallen in love with you.” his voice cracks, tears welling in his tired eyes. he looked like he had been getting about as much sleep as you. you felt your heart break and swell. “i’m in love with the lonely girl who cries out for company, a warmth shrouded in a cloudy mist calling for help.” why had you been pushing him away, your own vision began to blur as tears burned the back of your eyes.

warmth engulfed you, and you fell completely into his hold. “i love you, let me help you… please.. let me love you.” you sobbed at his words. the dam finally breaking, you let yourself feel not just for your own sake but for his, for Padme, for Eleanora. he pulls you in tighter, afraid to let you go in fear you’ll push him away again. you cling on just as tightly, shaking from each cry. everything was shit but it would be okay. you would be okay. he was there for you and he wasn’t going anywhere, not without a fight. you had a support system and it was time to let them do just that, support you.

“I love you too.”

part 13

Tag List: @luvvfromme @gatekeepingirlboss @bimbo-baggins86 @iluvanakinskywalker @bby-imasociopath @curlycarley @burnthecheshirewitch @misscaller06 @sweetcheesecakesblog

LOVE CONFESSIOOOONN🗣️🗣️🗣️ I REPEAT NOT A DRILL WE GOT A BRIDGERTON LOVE CONFESSION FROM ANI 🎉🎉 (don’t know who noticed and who didn’t but the way Anakin shouts his confession after telling reader to shout it to him so he can hear her and know she means it in chapter 7👀 just a fun little detail i wanted to point out 🥰 and don’t think reader forgot about that either🌝) chapter 13 i will hopefully have out tmr🧍‍♀️don’t @ me on that tho 👩‍🦯👩‍🦯anyways i hope you huns enjoyed Xx<3💋💋

#hayden christensen #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #star wars anakin #anakin imagine #rots anakin #atoc anakin #anakin fanfiction #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker x reader fluff #anakin x reader fluff #anakin x you #bridgerton au!anakin x reader #bridgerton au!anakin #bridgerton au #bridgerton #queenie’s thoughts xx<3

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dlscenarios · 24 days ago

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Wonderland

Colin Bridgerton x f!Reader SMUT

"Secrets I have held in my heart are harder to hide than I thought..."

Cw: BRIEF BOOK SPOILER (only Danbury's lil contest, nothing more), SMUT, Feminine Reader (No body parts mentioned but they wear a nightgown & deemed a "lady of the ton"), Period accurate ideals on propriety & marriage, Dominant Colin/Sub Reader, First Time, Blowjob (I have never written a blowjob so in depth, my god), Come Eating

Started Kinktober with a Bridgerton, ending it with a DIFFERENT Bridgerton.

MDNI

All was quiet in your house. The clock in your room told you it was after midnight; everyone in your house was surely asleep, even the few servants your parents hired. Yet you were firmly planted at your writing desk, rereading another Whistledown article. After Lady Danbury's promise of a thousand pounds to whomever unmasks the anonymous writer, you had been working tirelessly to scan every page and find any slips in her identity.

The candle at your side was nearing its end when you heard a sudden rapping at your window. Jumping in your seat, you whipped around only to roll your eyes at the familiar figure. You set your quill in its holder and stood to open the window.

"Colin, what on earth are you doing here?" You chastised, stepping back as he climbed into your room. You lowered your voice, "It's the middle of the night!"

"I merely wished to see a friend." He flashed that cheeky, boyish grin that you swore you've seen millions of times before as he straightened his waistcoat.

You shut the window behind him, peering out to check the street. "What if someone saw you?"

"It's the middle of the night." He repeated your words and smiled innocently at the glare you shot him. "Speaking of..." He gestured toward your desk. "What has kept you up?"

You sighed through your nose and paced back to it, stacking the papers into a neat pile. "I'm afraid your sister has gotten into my head. She believes Whistledown has made a mistake in one of her issues that could lead to her identity. Besides, I could use a thousand pounds, so I might as well join the hunt."

"Found anything?" Colin stepped up to your side, peering down the articles in your hands.

"Not yet, but I only just started the 1815 editions." Avoiding his gaze, you left your desk to store the papers in a drawer, unaware that his eyes followed your every move. "In any case, you should not be here."

Colin rolled his eyes and groaned, "This again?"

"If anyone saw you scaling the second story of a house that is not yours, this could turn into a scandal."

"Why would I be scaling my own house anyway?"

"That is beside the point." You jabbed an index finger in his direction. "Just because it is late does not mean all of Mayfair is asleep."

"Says the one presently only in a nightgown." He retorted, knowing damn well it would cease your nagging about propriety. Your state of dress looked just as scandalous as his appearance in your room.

Your arms crossed over your chest. You hoped the action came off as more annoyance than sudden awareness of how little you were wearing. "It was not as if someone awarded me the chance to grab a robe. Besides, we have known each other for years. You saw me in leading strings."

"A child viewing another child in full dress is nothing compared to a grown man seeing a beautiful lady in nothing but a thin nightgown."

Your head tilted as his word choice dawned on you. "Beautiful? Colin-"

"Perhaps I said too much." He interrupted and turned to the same window he had come in through, avoiding meeting your eyes in shame.

You dashed in front of him and spread your arms, effectively blocking him from his escape. "No, no, no! You are not leaving after that."

Colin cracked a side smile, teasing, "Were you not just nagging me for being here?"

"That was before you said I was beautiful." You hesitantly lowered your arms. "Did you mean that?"

He stepped closer, green eyes bearing into your own. They only briefly shifted to your lips before returning. "Of course I meant it. Look at you." His gaze darted around your body. "It is baffling that you are nearing spinsterhood with no suitors. You are beautiful, intelligent, caring, witty...Any man would be lucky to have you."

Your heart caught in your chest. The man in front of you had been a friend for most of your life — had always called on you just to cheer you up after you failed to receive suitors — and you had found yourself wishing he was more for around half of that, but it had always been nothing more than an unrealistic fantasy to you. Colin was a Bridgerton for Christ's sake. He had women practically throwing themselves at him, especially after his return from traveling and attendance in the ongoing social season. Why would he be interested in you? Or worse, anyone like you.

A skeptic smile grew on your face. "It seems as if Cyprus has changed you. You never said I was anything close to beautiful before."

His eyes never left yours as he whispered, "Perhaps it did. However...I have learned a lot from my travels, including how I have been taking you for granted. I could not function without your letters. That was why I kept writing you. I would send correspondence to my family, of course, but you were the only one I wrote to every single week. Even my own mother did not hear from me that often. And every time you sent a letter back, I dropped every plan I had just to read it and respond. If anything, Cyprus made me realize how much I need you in my life. "

"Colin..." You started only to trail off. You had no idea what to say. His confession felt almost like a dream, one you'd surely wake from at any moment. His face was closer than it had ever been during your entire friendship. That alone would have made you speechless, but the words accompanying it...

"I need you, Y/N..." His voice came out quieter, nearly low enough to miss.

You repeated his name again, slowly realizing that his face was, indeed, getting closer. Your eyes fluttered shut on instinct and, not a second later, the very real softness of lips were on yours. A hand brushed up your neck, its thumb caressing your jaw once it rested below your ear as Colin deepened the kiss. His tongue prodded against your bottom lip, coaxing it apart from its upper half to seek out your own tongue. His other hand grazed along your bare arm, leaving a warm, ticklish trail in its wake as it gripped your shoulder. Its twin lowered and rested at your back, keeping you perfectly still against Colin.

As your own hands rose to cup Colin's face, the sudden chill of the window's glass touching your upper back lead you to retreat further into him. Colin moaned against your lips, quickly noticing the way your nipples pebbled through the thin cotton of your gown. You returned his moan as if on instinct before the hand situated on your back slipped lower, an open palm taking your ass into it.

You gasped, parting from Colin much to his chagrin. As if the kiss had been a veil to the outside world, blocking every other feeling aside from his hands and lips, you gazed up at him, noticing the unfamiliar sensation of his arousal against you. Colin was unable to stop himself from leaning in for another, softer peck all while never tearing his eyes from yours.

His breath fanned against your parted lips as he muttered, "You have no idea how long I have wanted to do that." The hand on your backside moved tantalizingly slow up your back as he continued. "How long I have wanted to have you like this. How I have thought of you every night I was away and wished you were in that bed with me."

"Colin..," you whispered, unable to form any other words in your head.

He pecked your cheek before leaning closer to your ear, "I love you."

You chased his words, turning your head just enough to breathe against his cheek. He slowly placed another kiss to you, then one on your temple, and again on your warm cheek then finally back to your lips. Surely, you thought, Colin could feel your heart nearly beating out of your chest every time his lips touched your skin. Both of his hands trailed down your sides as you feebly gripped the lapel of his coat, suddenly wishing to throw it off of him.

You had missed the faint smirk Colin wore as he pecked your cheek again. "Were you not just trying to kick me out, my love~?" He held you closer, despite how you impossible you thought that was, and softly pressed a kiss to your shoulder. "This could be scandalous~"

You remained speechless as he straightened his stance, hand slithering up to take yours. Your hold lessened on his clothing and briefly glanced to his lips before rising to mirthful eyes.

Colin smirked, lightly squeezing your hand and leaning his forehead onto yours, "You're beautiful...You're perfect." You tilted your head up, capturing his lips in a feeble kiss before he pulled away. "If we do not stop, this truly will cause a scandal~”

The glint of knowing in your eyes didn't go unnoticed. He wanted you. In the way you'd been taught only a husband should want his spouse, he wanted you. The way that, if the ton found out of this, would claim Colin had ruined you, but perhaps he already had as you found yourself wanting him in that same way. Your free hand trailed down along his front, never looking away from the hint of worry in his gaze.

"Please..." you muttered. He studied you for a brief moment before gathering you into his arms again and bringing you into a softer, loving kiss. An innocent kiss despite the fact that the hardness in his trousers still poked you. His lips left yours to mouth at your neck then your shoulder. Your head lolled back against the window as you quietly moaned, "Colin..."

He pressed another kiss to your neck, followed by one right below your ear as his voice, now gruff and laced with need, whispered, "I have an idea."

Colin's hands still secured you against him. If you were being honest, it was the only thing holding you up. You stared at him curiously and waited for him to continue.

"On your knees."

The command struck a cord within as you immediately sunk down to the floor in front of him, still gazing up at him as he sucked in a sharp breath. His hand pushed your hair back and away from your face. One of your own remained stagnant on his thigh. Colin had to bite back an expletive. He never thought you could look any more beautiful than you did at that moment, looking up at him with nothing but love and patience for his next move.

Biting his lip, Colin threw off his coat and tugged at his cravat. After undoing the few buttons of his shirt, his hand paused by the button on the side of his trousers. He looked down with a silent ask if you wanted to continue. Your breathing had become heavier as you nodded. Colin's free hand stole yours from his thigh, thumb grazing over the skin reassuringly as he undid his trousers. They fell in time with his undergarments, leaving his lower half completely exposed in front of you.

Your breath caught in your chest. As one would assume from an unmarried person in society, you had never seen anyone so exposed in person. Only your dreams had you imagined such, most of which involved your closest friend currently aroused by mere kisses. You looked up at him for guidance, unsure of what he wanted you to do.

He took his erection into his free hand, lining it up with your parted lips.

"Open..." His soft command almost came out like a plea. Slowly and hesitantly, your lips parted further, briefly glancing to his cock before darting back to his face. "Poke your tongue out."

You did as told, free hand digging into the fabric of your skirt before his tip made contact with your tongue. He paused there for a moment, whether waiting for assurance to continue or admiring through view, you couldn't tell. The hand tightly holding yours left to gather your hair into it.

"Close your mouth. I'll move slow. Watch your teeth." He waited perfectly still for your lips to wrap around the head of his hardened cock. Carefully, he pushed into your mouth, whispering a moan as he felt the warm heat enclose around him.

With each shallow thrust of his hips, he tested guiding you further along his length until your nose brushed against the thatch of dark hair at the base. Colin released a louder moan, not loud enough to alert your family of his presence, of course. You let him guide your head, eyes fluttering shut as your tongue runs along his skin.

The act itself had never made it into your fantasies, but you were certain the memory would plague you for the rest of your life. You savored Colin's touch, his moans, his taste as if he'd disappear after he was finished. That by some cruel twist of fate, he wouldn't remember this encounter come morning and you would be relegated to his side as nothing but a friend. Your throat contracted around the tip as his grip grew tighter in your hair.

His thrusts grew shorter but quicker. A shuttered whisper of "God..." clued you in and why. He was close, which meant he was enjoying your mouth pleasing him. You were the one making him feel that way, not some woman he'd met during his travels and not a meaningless debutante he'd plucked from the dance floor.

"Fuck, I can't..." he whispered — the first time he'd sworn in your presence, really — before thrusting a final time against your tongue and pulling you away. He gripped himself with his other hand, the one still weaved in your hand tilting your chin up. As he began to stroke himself, the slick squishes of your saliva mixing with his pants as the only sounds in the room, his green eyes met your glassy ones.

"Open..." he commanded. You did just as he asked, eyes closing as he released another melodic moan before feeling something hit your tongue. Colin continued to groan above you, his seed landing against your lips, a bit dripping down your chin.

When he finally released your head, your eyes opened and instinctively swallowed the slightly sticky substance. It wasn't bad, you blushed at the realization. You met Colin's eyes as he tried to catch his breath.

"God..," he uttered, thumb going to swipe the remnants of his come from your kiss-bruised lips, only to be stopped when you kissed the pad of it and parting your lips enough to suck the clear, sticky substance off. Colin huffed, an adoring smirk blooming on his face, "You're going to be the death of me."

After releasing his thumb, he helped you stand, your arms wrapping around his neck in an attempt at keeping yourself steady. You ripped your gaze away to find your clock, seeing just how late it had gotten. Colin pecked your cheek.

"I will leave you to rest." His whispered words coaxed you back to his face. "Perhaps our families could promenade at the park tomorrow. I'm sure they will like to know their children are engaged."

Your eyes widen at his smirk. "Engaged...?"

"You did not think I would confess my love and leave without a proposal, did you?" Colin quipped, once again causing your heart to nearly beat out of your chest.

Not knowing how else to respond, you whispered, "I love you..."

Colin softly kissed you, his nose brushing against yours as you part before he responds with a smile. "And I love you, fiancé~"

As a grin spread across yours face, Colin held you tighter. If it weren't for the scandal of it all, you hoped he'd never leave. You hoped to never leave.

#bridgerton #bridgerton x you #colin bridgerton #colin bridgerton x reader #colin bridgerton x you #bridgerton x reader smut #colin bridgerton smut #bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton smut #kinktober 2024 #kinktober

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bloggingexpert8 · 5 months ago

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Judge dismisses ‘unwarranted’ claims against Platinum Star PR Inc. former client brought on by Marie Lemelle

Prominent Hollywood Publicist Marie Lemelle Embroiled in Controversy Amid Alleged Abuse & Investigations, Platinum Star Media Group Inc. Talent Manager Christina Havis Faces Cahoots Claims - REPORT

Christina Havis (left) and Marie Lemelle under fire for alleged plot against Platinum Star Public Relations, Inc. former client (Photo Marie Lemelle/Facebook)

LOS ANGELES – Two Hollywood talent managers with Platinum Star Media Group Inc. are under fire for off-duty incidents. The two corporate executives are facing blowback for their roles in an alleged intimidation scheme involving a former Platinum Star Public Relations Inc. client.

Marie Lemelle, 65, of Glendale, and Christina Havis, 40, of North Hollywood, were both named in a Los Angeles Superior Court civil case involving a former client of the Platinum Star PR division. Insiders say the two managers allegedly conspired for Lemelle to gain an unfair advantage in the case.

Based on court documents obtained by various outlets, Havis who serves as the vice president of operations at Platinum Star Media Group Inc. was named as the process server in the case. Havis, who is not a registered process server, allegedly participated and was believed to be following Lemelle’s direction, according to sources.

Lemelle has come under fire for controversial behavior, lying under oath scandal and allegations of bullying and intimidation.

Lemelle has also been accused of abuse of power and egregious misconduct surrounding disturbing details that have emerged from the case.

According to court transcripts, Lemelle filed a violence restraining order against the former client in Pasadena, California, that stated among other things that the person “exhibited erratic behavior…has exhibited multiple personalities, unstable and delusional disorder.”

Lemelle’s filing papers that Havis delivered to the person’s attorney further states that “the order is based on unlawful violence, a credible threat of violence, or stalking.”

A new report alleges that as part of their scheme, Lemelle and Havis deliberately withheld information about the trial to the former client; the court documents were delivered a day before the scheduled court date; and that Lemelle allegedly continued to engage in unethical conduct; checked a court box to falsely portray to the judge that she was the former client in a deceptive tactic to get a continuous; and provided misleading information to the court that falsely portrayed the former client in court documents.

According to court transcripts the judge threw out the case ruling in favor of the former client, in which he disputed all of Lemelle’s claims.

“I don’t see anything here that warrants a restraining order,” the California Superior Court judge said according to court transcripts. The formal ruling handed down by the judge states, “The court finds the party requesting the order of protection did not sustain the applicable burden of proof and accordingly the request is denied.”

“This judge’s ruling sends a clear message. This is beyond ridiculous. This is dishonest and unprofessional, said a talent managing director who asked to speak anonymously to provide a frank assessment.

“We will seek to hold accountable corporate executives who value profits over integrity and doing what is proper and ethical,” the person added.

“Unfortunately, some of the people in our industry are not trustworthy. Though we seek to have a unified community of artists who support each other, sometimes trust is broken because people get too high and feel like they are above the law. Such lapses as this sort of mistake can happen to anyone in public life if they don’t remain humble,” the director said in the interview.

The executive said they were working to get the word circulated about Lemelle and Havis, following the judge’s ruling. “I’m going to personally contact SAG-AFTRA, the Writer’s Guild, the Producers Guild, LGBT groups and other people who work closely with talent agencies to let them know,” the individual stated.

“The alleged behavior by our artistic community will not be tolerated.”

In 2023 Lemelle co-created a concept called The Social Good Movement Tour. She formed the partnership with Kristen Thomasino, the CEO of Thomasino Media LLC and Buddytown Consulting LLC.

The tour is said to be “inspiring Gen Z for positive change,” according to the creators. “We’re here to empower the next generation,” the concept’s website states.

“How are you going to be out here talking about inspiring and empowering people and oppressing and bullying folks at the same time,” one social media influencer asked. “This makes me sick to see people putting on like they really care about other people but caught up in a scandal of BS over some character flaws,” the TikTok influencer stated.

According to The Social Good Movement Tour website, Marie Y. Lemelle, MBA, is a film producer, social change activist, global entrepreneur, visionary, award-winning journalist, and celebrity public relations consultant. She champions her philosophy "Transform Goals to Greatness" through her branding, marketing, and public relations expertise as the CEO and founder of the certified minority woman-owned Platinum Star Public Relations, Inc.

The site says that Lemelle has spearheaded major red carpet events, golf tournaments, concerts, film festivals, and award shows. Additionally, she has advanced diversity and inclusion for communities through her business, according to the website.

Voyage LA reports that Havis, prior to joining Platinum Star Media Group Inc., worked as the Talent Manager and Director of Development West Coast at Next Level Entertainment Global (NLE). According to the article, Havis worked alongside the owners Kimberly Strouss and Mario Anastasiades to “manage over 80 clients and run offices in LA, NY, New Zealand and the UK.” Additional information about this story may be found at https://indibloghub.com/post/court-records-reveal-new-details-of-alleged-malicious-acts-in-lemelle-s-crime-victim-case

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florelia12 · 2 years ago

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Bridgerton AU

Since I have the patience and self-control of a 5yo child (i just turned 19), here's the first chapter to a fic I'm working on that's more of an introductory kinda chapter. I won't post it on A03 or FFN until I've got a few more chapters done or maybe after I finish Untamable since its a fairly shorter story.

Enjoy!

Chapter 1

Lady Eldora

Society Papers

Dearest Readers,

Tonight we celebrate the beginning of the social season. After two years of suffering through the plague that has ripped the world of happiness and life, we can finally step out into the world and reunite with the people around us. The time has come to forget the past while we honour the loved ones we have lost and find joy once again.

Let us enter the social season with our hearts and minds open to new experiences, friendships and of course, love.

On that note, shall we begin with the introductions of our lovely debutantes for this season…

Firstly, we have our dear Princess of Solaria, Her Highness, Princess Stella. Although the Princess is now two and twenty, a year late for her debut due to the plague that unfortunately put a pause on social seasons for the past two years, we have no doubt that she will shine her way through her first season. An abundance of matches is for sure waiting for Her Highness, but who will the Princess choose? Will her childhood friendship with the Prince of Eraklyon — who has finally returned from the War victorious — blossom into something more? We will find out soon enough.

Secondly, we have the spare of the Dominian royalty, Princess Bloom. Her sister, Princess Daphne, who successfully enraptured the Duke of Eraklyon, Prince Consort Thoren, is now expecting her second child in the coming months — what wonders being trapped in the castle without being allowed to leave for two years does for the fertility of young couples. The charming pair that found love and were the first to be married by the end of our last season are a testament to true love. Will the same fate await Princess Bloom this season?

As if this season could not get more special, we will get to bear witness to the first ever public appearance of the Princess of Andros. Princess Aisha’s beauty and grace has been spoken about plentifully throughout the commonwealth, yet no one has been lucky enough to lay eyes on her. I must say, her debut is the one I am looking forward to the most. Let’s hope we shall not be disappointed, and I’m sure her parents, the King and Queen of Andros share the same apprehension after all the efforts they put into defeating their neighbouring country that waged war on us all during an already terrible time. The pressure is on, Princess Aisha, I wish you good luck.

Princess Isobel of Dyamond, who like our Princess Stella is debuting late at the age three and twenty, has already garnered quite the reputation with her…escapades during the plague. While the rest of us locked ourselves in our homes for the safety of others and ourselves, Princess Isobel hosted soirees and parties that admittedly endangered the lives of many. While she was granted with impeccable care when she unfortunately caught the plague, her guests suffered a different and more lethal fate. I have my reservations about allowing such a careless Princess debut, but I am simply a gossipmonger who shall not interfere with the decisions of Queen Luna who so kindly is hosting the social season in Solaria this year. I am no one to talk about the irony of a divorcee conducting the upcoming matchmaking season now, am I?

Now, we sure have many more beautiful Princesses who will be debuting tonight, but I must admit I am already bored of them. I place my wager on these Princesses to be named as the Diamond of this season.

A lady who will be making her debut tonight that deserves my honourable mention and our warmest thanks is Miss Flora of Linphea. Born to Sir Rhodos and Mrs. Alyssa in a humble village south of Linphea, she enters the season as the daughter of the man who has saved us all. We owe Sir Rhodos, a talented healer and scientist, for the invention of the cure that has abolished the plague. The family of four, including their youngest daughter Miss Miele, has officially moved their residence to Solaria, the head of the commonwealth after an influx of well-deserved money. Many suitors are indeed waiting to snatch up the young lady as it would be a fine honour to marry the daughter of the world’s hero, but we shall see if the men are simply hungry for the new money or if our debutante will find a beautiful love-match.

Talking about the men, let’s see who are our eligible bachelors of this season, shall we?

Of course, we have Prince Sky of Eraklyon, who is now two and twenty and ready to be wed. It is no doubt that the young ladies of society have their eyes set on the biggest prize there is to offer; a War hero and the future King of one of the most powerful kingdoms of the commonwealth. His Highness is indeed a lucky man and we can only wait and see which of these beautiful flowers laid out for his choosing that he will pick to be his wife and future Queen.

This spring, we also welcome the new Duke of Aquila, Duke Helia. God bless the soul of the late Duke, whom we lost to the plague a year ago and my deepest condolences to his son who was away fighting for our safety in the war against the barbarians of Omega Island when his father passed so suddenly. His Grace has inherited his father’s title that was bestowed upon the young knight twenty five years ago by King Radius, and a worthy inheritance indeed for a War hero who was released from duty with highest of honours after sustaining an injury. The Duke, who had spent his growing years from the age of fifteen in the City of Magix, studying the fine arts, will now officially reside in Solaria once again as he takes up his new role. All the best to the artist turned soldier turned Duke in settling into his new life, and my word of advice is to take advantage of all this season has to offer and find himself a lovely maiden to call his home.

With that, I shall bid you goodbye for now and let you continue with your preparations for tonight’s debutante ball. Good luck to the debutantes, may your beauty shine bright and lead the way to promising futures. Do not worry, my dearest readers, I promise to aid in keeping up with the debutantes when I return with new delicious stories of our society in a few days. Until then…

Yours truly,

Lady Eldora

#it’ll focus on florelia mainly with hints of other couples #yes it has references to covid #shoutout to kat @alwayswriting101 for the reuinted fic that i’ve reread all the time #now idk if this is spoilers but i think the story’s pretty similar (but not really) to The Duchess Deal by Tessa Dare #i havent read the book but ive been seeing it on tiktok and the story kinda feels similar #idk but the book’s on my tbr #anyways i feel like chapter is pretty confusing #ill explain it more in the notes when i post the chapter on the fanfiction sites #until then #i hope everyone likes this small snippet so far #also just so no one has any expectations there is no lady whistledown (lady eldora in this fic)#simply because I terribly wanted it to be bloom but the story i have for her just can’t seem to fit in with the whole #anonymous scandal paper writer #i need to stop rambling in tags #im sorry

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redheadspark · 2 years ago

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hi! idk if u are taking requests but could u do smth like ~ writer+political radical reader! + benedict bridgerton?

thank u and love everything u write! <3

A/N: This is very cute! Sorry for taking forever to writ it, real life got in the way! Thanks for the request

Read All About it

Summary: After Benedict stumbles upon one of your old pieces in one of the gossip columns, his reaction was not what you expected.

Warnings: Just some fluff

"Darling, what's this?"

"What, dear?"

You poked your head up and saw what Benedict was holding, a stack of old newspaper clippings in his hand. For a split second you didn't register the septic clippings he was harnessing, but then it dawn o you. Your blood went cold, your eyes going wide and nearly popping out of yoru shell as Benedict was scanning the article on the top of the stack, his eyes going back forth.

Within seconds, he was grinning.

"Is this--" He stared, but you glided across the room to attempt to snatch the papers from his grasp. He was quicker, his grin was infectious and almost enduring as he moved away as you tried to get it again.

"You're the Anonymous Pin Pal named Rog?!" He asked in a shocked tone, you blueing like mad and your attempting one more time before he took it out of your reach within a millisecond. It was something you thought you buried in the past, something you placed far away in the past memories that you knew were probably foolish in partaking in. Once you were married you thought they would never resurface again.

But your husband found them otherwise, you being carless as you were cleaning out one of your old trunks of writing pieces and trinkets you brought from your old home.

"They are not mine--" You attempted to intervene, but Benedict read a few lines from the article on the top.

" 'As for the Savington Family, their notorious balls and social parties have been the talk of the town with lavish food and political word wars amongst the men. There was no dull point in conversation, and maybe some chairs shattered to bits'....Are you kidding me?!"

Finally, you snagged the papers from his hands and held it against your chest, Benedict eying you with a raised brow as you were taking a moment to collect your own thoughts in what you were going to say to your husband. It wasn't that he saw you as the squeaky clean young woman who would be his perfect wife. He liked your boldness and quirky nature, which was perfect in his own bold family. But this was something you never told him, not even when he was courting you.

This was a well hidden secret you've had since you were a teen.

"Yes....yes it is me," You replied softly, Benedict grinning widely as he crossed his arms in front of himself and leaned back on the table behind him while you spoke, "It was merely a hobby that I started, and I knew the editor of that paper. I asked to write a snuff piece about the balls in the season, giving my honest opinion about them....and apparently I was popular,"

"Apparently?" Benedict asked, you freezing for a moment. You thought, for a split moment, that Benedict would hate you. He came from a family that went to balls during the social season, they were always in attendance and are always the talk of the ball. Of course there were a few hiccups with their family, one scandal and then another that seemed to make their name be smeared in the mud. At the time, long before you knew Benedict or any of his family, you were tempting to right such things about them.

Tempted is the word, but you never did.

You were more on the political stance, fighting behind a pen name for some of the social issues that were big at the time. The rights fo women, proper education for all whether rich or poor, government changes that better the people. That was what you thrived on, and your pieces that you wrote were both intense and smearing the faces of the government and it's racial system. People were eating up your pieces left and right, agreeing with your ideas and assumptions of what you thought should change. But you never thought in a million years that the rich and elite would want to read your own pieces since it was mostly aimed at the poor and the ons who wanted change.

"May I say something you and be frank?" Benedict asked, searching your eyes as you nodded your head slowly.

"Of course, please," You replied, watering what was going on in his head. Did he see you as radical? A fraud? A liar?

"I followed every article you've ever written," He explained, your breath was slowing down as he was smiling, "Every piece you're ever written and published, I read it word for word. What you've read and printed.... I found it fascinating and beyond moving."

"You....you liked what I wrote?" You asked, thinking it was too good to be true. Benedict moved up from his perched spot and over to stand in font of you, moving slowly to make your heads stop hiding the paper in your fingers against your chest. He cradled the papers, as if they were delicate glass, to have your joined hands hold the articles on the top of your palms and between the pair of you.

"I adored what you wrote," He softly stated to you, "I know plenty of others adored your pieces too. I can't tell you how many nights I've discussed with my brothers what you have written and how....raw and truthful they are. Your mind is vast and so knowledgeable...and to think that it was you,"

He paused, moved to place the papers on the table behind him to then come back and lace your fingers together gently.

"I already knew from the moment I met you that your mind and vass intelligence was one of the things that I would fall in love with first, along with your smile of course. You have a fire in you for saying what's on your mind and never hold back, and I admire that more than anything. Now I see where that fire came from, and I'm honored to see and hear a glimpse of that everyday."

You were grinning softly then, hearing the praises from Benedict and how he adored what your mind was like. He always liked hearing what was on your mind, you two were already engrossed in thought evoking conversations before you were even officially courting. Anything you talked about, Benedict listened whole heartedly. He didn’t mind hearing your views that seemed very specific or enlightening, asking more provoking questions to tap into your mind more.

It made courting him, later marrying him, seem so easy like breathing. You two match each other in your personalities and in your intelligence.

"And may I say, being married to one of the best radical writers of our age is quite....dare I say....beyond sexy," He said to you, his lingering tone almost made you blush as his hands went to slip around your waist, "Have I ever told you it was one of my fantasies to sleep with a writer?"

"Was? Not longer a fantasy I take it?" You coyly asked back, seeing him bit his lower lip as your reached up to release a few button on his waistcoat, "Maybe I can bring that fantasy back then,"

Benedict only chuckled as you pushing his waistcoat, tossing it behind him your old articles as Benedict threw off his shirt and pulled you into his arms.

The End.

#benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict x reader #benedict bridgerton #luke thomspon #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton fandom #fanfiction #writing #bridgerton

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haveyouseenthisskeleton · 3 years ago

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Hello I hope you’re doing well

What would the skellies reaction be to their S/O writing poetry and/or stories for them to display affection? Perhaps some that make them laugh, show their love and affection to the skeleton or to comfort/calm them? Hope ya have a nice day!

Let's go with some of our creative boys!

Undertale Papyrus - He's overwhelmed. He can't believe you wrote something just for him and his soul can't take it anymore. He is so excited that he got a little bit dizzy and needs to sit down for a bit. Doing little private things for him is one of the things he loves the most and he feels like he is an accomplished skeleton now.

Underswap Papyrus - Aw~. Honey is a big reader of romantic stories and the fact you noticed is both a bit embarrassing and quite remarkable. He doesn't know where to look anymore, but he thanks you with a very small voice. He keeps it into his bed table's drawer and you can sometimes catch him rereading it when he's in a sad mood.

Horrortale Papyrus - He's reading it outloud, but the more he is reading, the more he starts crying. In the end, you can't understand what he is saying anymore, but man, he is so happy. After that, he just hugs you and cries for several minutes.

Swapfell Sans - He finishes reading, then takes a pencil and corrects your paper lol. "here, you left a grammatical mistakes. and this could be reworded, and this part is a bit overdramatic, and that..." He stops and realises you are watching him with two big fish eyes. "... i guess it's not too terrible." Wow. He compliments you. You starts to cry. Nox sighs and pats your shoulder. Though, you still need to correct that poem.

Dancetale Sans - Aw, you didn't have to. He is blushing and tries to hide inside of his hoodie to hide it. Rambo is a good writer too, so there's a chance he might do something similar to you sometimes later. Though, he is very insecured about his writing, so he'll make sure to leave it anonymous, even if it's not so hard to guess who did this because of the litteral comic sans font he is writing with. But Rambo didn't think so far.

Dancefell Papyrus - He's doing a live reading on his Instagram account. You try to stop him since some scenes are quite hot and explicite about things the two of you did in bed, but he didn't realise, too implicated in the story. Yep, but his audience noticed it very well on the other hand. The next day, you are on the covers of every town's scandal newspapers. Congratulations.

Ink - He's asking you to read it for him, and he is watching you all this time with little hearts in the eyes, and then he kisses you savagely. Ink loves to see your creativity. It's one of the rare times you didn't see him jumps everywhere and gets exciting over anything. Maybe you should do that more often.

#undertale #underswap #horrortale #swapfell #dancetale #dancefell #ink sans #undertale ask blog #undertale asks #undertale imagines #undertale headcanons

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mumblingsage · 2 years ago

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I recently read Faramerz Dabhoiwala’s The Origins of Sex: A History of the First Sexual Revolution, which discusses a number of interesting trends in the 17th-19th centuries, but what scandalized me most was less the sex than the contemporary standards on publishing and reviewing:

The common custom of anonymous and pseudonymous publication and reviewing allowed authors surreptitiously to insert, in one pamphlet or paper, trailers and testimonials for another. Writers could clandestinely plug their own books, as well as employing the puffing services of their friends. Jonas Hanway penned an enthusiastic notice of his three-volume Advice from a Farmer to his Daughter (1770) and asked Elizabeth Montagu to submit it as her own... Mary Rudd described one of her publications, anonymously, as ‘one of the most spirited, and at the same time the most elegant and temperate compositions’ to have appeared in recent times. Although ‘this may be regarded as a puff for the book,’ she concluded, ‘it is however different from all other puffs in one respect -- it is literally true.’

#Mary Rudd I admire your brass balls #whatever you think of current blurb practices this something else again

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dwellordream · 3 years ago

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“...The letters, biographies, memoirs, and diaries that recorded Victorian women’s lives are essential sources for differentiating friendship, erotic obsession, and sexual partnership between women. The distinctions are subtle, for Victorians routinely used startlingly romantic language to describe how women felt about female friends and acquaintances. In her youth, Anne Thackeray (later Ritchie) recorded in an 1854 journal entry how she “fell in love with Miss Geraldine Mildmay” at one party and Lady Georgina Fullerton “won [her] heart” at another. In reminiscences written for her daughter in 1881, Augusta Becher (1830–1888) recalled a deep childhood love for a cousin a few years older than she was: “From my earliest recollections I adored her, following her and content to sit at her feet like a dog.”

At the other extreme of the life cycle, the seventy one-year-old Ann Gilbert (1782–1866), who cowrote the poem now known as “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star,” appreciatively described “the latter years of . . . friendship” with her friend Mrs. Mackintosh as “the gathering of the last ripe figs, here and there, one on the topmost bough!” Gilbert used similar imagery in an 1861 poem she sent to another woman celebrating the endurance of a friendship begun in childhood: “As rose leaves in a china Jar / Breathe still of blooming seasons past, / E’en so, old women as they are / Still doth the young affection last.” Gilbert’s metaphors, drawn from the language of flowers and the repertoire of romantic poetry, asserted that friendship between women was as vital and fertile as the biological reproduction and female sexuality to which figures of fruitfulness commonly alluded.

Friendship was so pervasive in Victorian women’s life writing because middle-class Victorians treated friendship and family life as complementary. Close relationships between women that began when both were single often survived marriage and maternity. In the Memoir of Mary Lundie Duncan (1842) that Duncan’s mother wrote two years after her daughter’s early death at age twenty-five, the maternal biographer included many letters Duncan (1814–1840) wrote to friends, including one penned six weeks after the birth of her first child: “My beloved friend, do not think that I have been so long silent because all my love is centered in my new and most interesting charge. It is not so. My heart turns to you as it was ever wont to do, with deep and fond affection, and my love for my sweet babe makes me feel even more the value of your friendship.”

Men respected women’s friendships as a component of family life for wives and mothers. Charlotte Hanbury’s 1905 Life of her missionary sister Caroline Head included a letter that the Reverend Charles Fox wrote to Head in 1877, soon after the birth of her first child: “I want desperately to see you and that prodigy of a boy, and that perfection of a husband, and that well-tried and well-beloved sister-friend of yours, Emma Waithman.” Although Head and Waithman never combined households, their regular correspondence, extended visits, and frequent travels were sufficient for Fox to assign Waithman a socially legible status as an informal family member, a “sister-friend” listed immediately after Head’s son and husband.

In A Room of One’s Own, Virginia Woolf lamented that a woman born in the 1840s would not be able to report what she was “doing on the fifth of April 1868, or the second of November 1875,” for “[n]othing remains of it all. All has vanished. No biography or history has a word to say about it.” Yet as an avid reader of Victorian life writing, Woolf had every reason to be aware that in the very British Library where her speaker researches her lecture, hundreds of autobiographies, biographies, memoirs, diaries, and letters provided exhaustive records of what women did on almost every day of the nineteenth century.

One cannot fault Woolf excessively for having discounted Victorian women’s life writing, for even today few consult this corpus and no scholar of Victorian England has used it to explore the history of female friendship. Scholars of autobiography concentrate on a handful of works by exceptional women, and historians of gender and sexuality have drawn primarily on fiction, parliamentary reports, journalism, legal cases, and medical and scientific discourse, which emphasize disruption, disorder, scandal, infractions, and pathology. Life writing, by contrast, emphasized ordinariness and typicality, which is precisely what makes it a unique source for scholarship.

The term “life writing” refers to the heterogeneous array of published, privately printed, and unpublished diaries, correspondence, biographies, autobiographies, memoirs, reminiscences, and recollections that Victorians and their descendants had a prodigious appetite for reading and writing. Literary critics have noted the relative paucity of autobiographies by women that fulfill the aesthetic criteria of a coherent, self-conscious narrative focused on a strictly demarcated individual self. Women’s own words about their lives, however, are abundantly represented in the more capacious genre of life writing, defined as any text that narrates or documents a subject’s life.

The autobiographical requirement of a unified individual life story was irrelevant for Victorian life writing, a hybrid genre that freely combined multiple narrators and sources, and incorporated long extracts from a subject’s diaries, correspondence, and private papers alongside testimonials from friends and family members. A single text might blend the journal’s dailiness and immediacy and a letter’s short term retrospect with the long view of elderly writers reflecting on their lives, or the backward and forward glances of family members who had survived their subjects.

For example, Christabel Coleridge was the nominal author of Charlotte Mary Yonge: Her Life and Letters (1903), but the text begins by reproducing an unpublished autobiographical essay Yonge wrote in 1877, intercalated with remarks by Coleridge. The sections of the Life written by Coleridge, conversely, consist of long extracts from Yonge’s letters that take up almost as much space as Coleridge’s own words. Coleridge undertook the biography out of personal friendship for Yonge, and its dialogic form mimics the structure of a social relationship conducted through conversation and correspondence.

The biographer was less an author than an editor who gathered and commented on a subject’s writings without generating an autonomous narrative of her life. Reticence was paradoxically characteristic of Victorian life writing, which was as defined by the drive to conceal life stories as it was indicative of a compulsion to transmit them. This was true of life writing by and about men as well as by and about women. The authors of biographies often did not name themselves directly. Instead they subsumed their identities into those of their subjects. Authors who knew their subjects intimately as children, spouses, or parents usually adopted a deliberately impersonal tone, avoiding the first person whenever possible.

In her anonymous biography of her daughter Mary Duncan, for example, Mary Lundie completely avoided writing in the first person and was sparing even with third-person references to herself as Duncan’s “surviving parent” or “her mother” (243, 297). The materials used in biographies and autobiographies were similarly discreet, and the diaries that formed the basis of much life writing revealed little about their authors’ lives. Victorian life writers who published diary excerpts valued them for their very failure to unveil mysteries, often praising the diarist’s “reserve” and hastening to explain that the diaries cited did “not pretend to reveal personal secrets.”

Although we now expect diaries to be private outpourings of a self confronting forbidden desires and confiding scandalous secrets, only a handful of authenticated Victorian diaries recorded sexual lives in any detail, and none can be called typical. Unrevealing diaries, on the other hand, were plentiful in an era when keeping a journal was common enough for printers to sell preprinted and preformatted diaries and locked diaries were unusual. Preformatted diaries adopted features of almanacs and account books, and journals synchronized personal life with the external rhythms of the clock, the calendar, and the household, not the unpredictable pulses of the heart.

Diaries were rarely meant for the diarist’s eyes alone, which explains why biographers had no compunction about publishing large portions of their subjects’ journals with no prefatory justifications. Girls and women read their diaries aloud to sisters or friends, and locked diaries were so uncommon that Ethel Smyth, born in 1858, still remembered sixty years later how her elders had disapproved when she started keeping a secret diary as a child. Some diarists even explicitly wrote for others, sharing their journals with readers in the present and addressing them to private and public audiences in the future. By the 1840s, published diaries had created a popular consciousness, and self-consciousness, about the diary form.

In 1856, at age fourteen, Louisa Knightley (1842–1913), later a conservative feminist philanthropist, began to keep journals “written with a view to publication” and modeled on works such as Fanny Burney’s diaries, published in 1842. When the working-class Edwin Waugh began to keep a diary in 1847, his first step was to paste into it newspaper clippings about how to keep a journal. One young girl included diary extracts in letters to her cousin in the 1840s. Princess Victoria was instructed in how to keep a daily journal by her beloved governess, Lehzen, and until Victoria became Queen, her mother inspected her diaries daily.

Diarists often wrote for prospective readers and selves, addressing journal entries to their children, writing annual summaries that assessed the previous year’s entries, or rereading and annotating a life’s worth of diaries in old age. Journals were a tool for monitoring spiritual progress on a daily basis and over the course of a lifetime. Diarists periodically reread their journals so that by comparing past acts with present outcomes they could improve themselves in the future. A Beloved Mother: Life of Hannah S. Allen. By Her Daughter (1884) excerpted a journal Allen (1813–1880) started in 1836 and then reread in 1876, when she dedicated it to her daughters: “To my dear girls, that they may see the way in which the Lord has led me.”

Far from being a repository of the most secret self, the diary was seen as a didactic legacy, one of the links in a family history’s chain. Victorian women’s diaries combined impersonality with lack of incident. Although Marian Bradley (1831–1910) wrote, “My diary is entirely a record of my inner life—the outer life is not varied. Quiet and pleasant but nothing worth recording occurs,” she in fact devoted hundreds of pages to recording an outer life that she accurately characterized as regular and predictable. Indeed, the stability and relentless routine that diaries labored to convey goes far to explain why Victorians were so eager to read the poetry that lyrically expressed spontaneous emotion and the novels that injected eventfulness and suspense into everyday life.

Diaries and novels had common origins in spiritual autobiography, and diaries played a dramatic role in Victorian fiction, but although diaries shared quotidian subjects and diurnal rhythms with novels, they were rarely novelistic. Most diarists produced chronicles that testified to a woman’s success in developing the discipline necessary to ensure that each day was much like the rest, and even travel diaries were filled not with impressions but descriptions similar to those found in guidebooks. When something unusually tumultuous took place, it often interrupted a woman’s daily writing and went unrecorded.”

- Sharon Marcus, “Friendship and the Play of the System.” in Between Women: Friendship, Desire, and Marriage in Victorian England

#victorian #history #sexuality #sharon marcus #between women

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earlharcourt · 3 years ago

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CLOSED STARTER || @jeremiahtheyankee LOCATION || Hyde park

The season had barely begun when the new scandal sheet was making its rounds. No matter where Richard tried to escape it, either some poor lad was delivering the paper or the whispers from the members of the Ton had almost ruined any space that Richard wanted to spend his time. If it wasn’t for this Lady Whistledown, maybe the season would have been as dull as all the previous ones. Perhaps there was some silver lining to it.

Instead of resisting the scandal sheet, Richard embraced it. After all, the woman seemed to be eerily accurate and it was not a bad idea to keep on top of the latest rumors. Richard paused at the Marquess of Halifax’s mention. The lad did not strike him as violent or power hungry during their pre-season meeting on the ice. Richard folded the paper and asked his footman to arrange his horse.

It did not take the Earl of Harcourt long to reach the marquess’s London residence. He brought two horses, one for himself and one that he found would be a suitable riding partner for the young man. A servant had took the horses while Richard was shown into the house and it was impressive. He sat with a cup of tea while he waited for the young man to meet him. “My lord Halifax,” Richard smiled and stood once the man entered the room. “I was hoping that you could join me for a ride around Hyde Park?” It would be perfectly reasonable if the man rejected the idea but Richard wanted to know the young man and not through the words of an anonymous writer. “I have two new horses that I wish to try out, if you wouldn’t mind doing me such a favor.”

#jeremiahtheyankee #jeremiah: 002 #hyde park

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strangely-radiant · 3 years ago

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Keeping the Crown Part 1- Steve Harrington x OC Henderson!Reader

This is one of my favorite series that I've written and I haven't given it a proper ending so if you like it please let me know and I can extend it to include season 3 content and potentially season 4!

Pairing: Steve Harrington x OC Henderson!Reader

Description: We all know about past Steve Harrington, King Steve. But what happened to his popularity once that all faded away and became a pretty damn good babysitter? Rilynne Henderson, Dustin's older sister takes shot after shot at Steve's royal title in the school's anonymous column. Finding it harder and harder to keep up with the ruse after seeing his transformation, Rilynne realizes that she herself has gained some popularity. None of that of course will matter since the Upside Down doesn't care about high school or popularity. Will King Steve steal the heart of the older Henderson or will it fizzle out just as quickly as it ignited?

Steve Harrington, King of Hawkins.

Well, when it comes to a kingdom, there is always a queen, and little to her knowledge Rilynne Henderson took that title. She was immensely popular and didn't even know it. Being part of every club and committee that Hawkins had to offer made her very well known. There were the girls that envied her, and wanted to be her, then there were the guys that saw her and wanted her. To put it in simple terms, Rilynne was unattainable.

Walking with her head down, headphones on, music on full volume, she didn't want to be approached. She was a writer, it was her favorite thing to do, so it wasn't surprising that she was part of the school's newspaper, not to mention she was the only reason people read it. Well, they didn't know it was her, but Ry's anonymous column was the most popular part of the paper.

Every week it was something different, from

relationship advice, to her spin on the basketball games. If a holiday was nearing, she would dedicate daily portions that related to each holiday. Even when Will Byers had went missing, her words were read and heard throughout the entire school. She made them feel things with her writing. Or when the news came out about Barb and the Hawkins lab, she crushed it. But she always put one liners in jabbing at the King of Hawkins.

Comments about how his castle was crumbling, and how a new ruler was up and coming, but she made sure to make it clear it wasn't Billy Hargrove. She was crafty and made sure she used the proper words and the right phrasing, so the advisor would print each edition.

Along with being a crafty writer, a popular asset to Hawkins, and the biggest pain in the ass to Steve Harrington, she was pretty kickass. She helped fight off the Demogorgons, and went to the Upside Down. There was a lot she knew about this town, but there was also a lot of insignificant things she didn't know, or care to know about. Like how Cassie was dating Ryan, or how there was a party a few months ago, and Steve and Nancy broke up. In her writing, she never put petty details about people in there, she felt that was wrong, and none of her god damn business.

This week's topic of discussion was the Winter Ball, and who would undoubtedly be crowned, such a drag. But she made her column thrive regardless.

To the Kingdom of Hawkins, your Royale speaking, ha, just kidding, it's only me, L. I am here, yet again, to give you the details you're dying to know. So, of course you all know about the Winter Ball, this Saturday, and believe it or not, yours truly will not be attending, what a scandal right? Although, I have some tips, advice, and some words of wisdom in the case of some common mishaps.

My queens, if you haven't been asked to the dance, I have some tips for you.

1.) You are beautiful, and if someone doesn't have the brain cells to notice and hasn't asked you, ask them!

2.) If you don't want to waste your time, or just aren't feeling the couple situation, you don't need the King of Hawkins to make you feel like a Queen, grab some friends and dance the night away.

3.) Be nice to your prince, they want to have a nice night too.

My princes, sorry, you have yet to reach king status, not even a certain King is deserving of the title he withholds, but that is completely a different column focus. If you don't have a date, or need the courage to ask one of the beauties here in this kingdom, I have some tips for you!

1.) You're a good person, and anyone would be lucky to have you as their date, so go and ask them.

2.) DO NOT EXPECT TO BE TREATED LIKE A KING IF YOU DON'T HAVE THE DECENCY TO ACT LIKE A DECENT HUMAN BEING, NO MEANS NO.

3.) Be kind, open doors for your queen, ask them to dance and just be sweet. The nice ones I swear are the winners in the end.

Enough about that, here are some helpful things to know in the case of any mishap.

 Benny's Burgers is open until 1am so be safe and eat some food.

 The corner store sells extra boutonnieres and corsages for $3

 Susan Archer alters both dresses and suits in under 20 minutes if it's a tear

 The dry cleaner on 5th street can get stains out of anything, yes, we can see your faded mustard stain on your white dress shirt from Spring formal last year, get it dry cleaned, please

 Amethyst park, off of Old Cherry Road has the best view of the stars at night

From me to you, be safe, have fun, and get a better taste in music. I heard the requests for the dance, and please for the sake of my ears add some different music. Oh, and to answer the anonymous question about my one liners aimed towards a certain "King", one, you're quite observant, and two, yes, it is exactly who you think it is. And to the other anonymous question about this up and coming "Queen", I was caught off guard that so many of you think she's your reigning Queen, but I support it. I hope she knocks the chip off the king's shoulder, and takes his throne because it's about time.

That's all from me,

"Have you read the paper yet?" A girl asked from her locker.

"Not yet, has L mentioned the dance yet?"

"Why can't we know who she is?" Another person whispered.

"How do you know that L isn't a guy?" I heard a voice say.

It was weird to hear so many people talk about her, and have the entire population not know it was her. She would walk into so many conversations about herself and people wouldn't stop talking, because she walked in, they would continue it, and then ask her to join the conversation. With the exception of Nancy and Johnathan, they knew or were very aware of your alias. It was an unspoken thing that three of them wouldn't talk about it at school.

"I noticed a certain writer took a few more jabs at Steve Harrington in the school paper." Johnathan laughed as he held the paper in his hands waving it a bit.

"Oh really, and what did L insinuate about Harrington this time?" She acted coolly taking the paper from Johnathan. Her eyes glanced over the paper pretending to read it.

"I'm sure you already know." A very familiar voice whispered behind her.

Steve Harrington had his suspicions to who L was, and typically, L avoided anything having to do with Rilynne Henderson. Not to mention how Ry liked to pick on his ego and his "King" status, even though now he didn't care about it.

"Don't make accusations so early in the morning, pretty boy, you'll only get shot down and your ego might shrink." Ry joked, after going through everything she had with the boy standing before her, and knowing about his genuine transformation, it was hard to think poorly of him. He was a good guy and she was completely aware of that. Which made it hard to keep inserting one liners into her writing, so quickly they were fading, but an unfortunate new royal was making a known path. Actually, there were two, but she refused to write about Billy in her alias form.

"It's the end of the day Henderson." Steve laughed pushing her playfully.

Everyone laughed at his stupid comment, but Rilynne noticed how Nancy gave her an involuntary side glance. It had been a few months since the gate closed and truth be told, Steve was hanging around Ry a lot more recently, he would have started hanging out with her without her rising new title. If he was being honest, he didn't want her to have the Queen status, because as his King title faded it was given to Hargrove and the last thing he desired was him with Rilynne.

Not that she would go for Hargrove, she actually wanted to beat the hell out if him after all the shit he pulled with her brother and her kids. Steve would argue that they were his kids, but he'd only make that argument when she wasn't around. He'd often have the kids vote on who was their favorite, to keep his ego intact.

"Yeah, it is, which means I have to go pick up the kids from AV Club, like a good baby sitter." She mocked with a smirk before turning on her heel and heading toward her car. Johnathan and Nancy could only laugh as Steve stood there his jaw ajar.

"I'm a pretty damn good babysitter." He yelled from behind her as he followed her in suit.

She leaned against the hood of his car which was next to hers.

"Don't lean on the hood of my car lookin' like that or people are going to think you're taking up that Queen status." He winked, because let's be honest, he thought she looked pretty hot sitting on the hood of his car.

"Ha, wouldn't want to take your crown." Oh, but she would, not in the sense of taking his king status or taking his "power" that he had over the school, but she wanted to take something that was his. And it wasn't because she didn't like him, because she did, a little.

#stranger things #joyce byers #steve harrington #dustin henderson #will byers #nancy wheeler #johnathan byers #lucas sinclair #max #eleven #mike wheeler #fanfic #romance #cute #funny

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merlinfic · 5 years ago

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Lights, camera, action...it’s a Merlin/Arthur rec list involving FAME! From being actors, musicians, athletes, to simply being rich and famous here is a (in no way comprehensive) fic list of some Merlin/Arthur fics of just that! And, as always, if there’s a fic you would like added to the list just let us know! Hope you all enjoy! :D

General Celebrity (rich, internet famous, authors, theatre, hosts, etc.):

But It's a Good Refrain by lady_ragnell

Call it 'Destiny' by theonceandfuturequeen

Cloudy With A Chance Of Something by donutsweeper

contained in a beginning by helloearthlings

Emroomie by supercalvin

The Fastest Clock In The Universe (Is Love) by Polomonkey

Fundamental Imperfection by Starlingthefool

How to Overcome Writer's Block: A Guide by Merlin Emrys by anivhee

I Am Gwen (the cutest cat on the Internet!) by gwyllion

Love in the time of the Internet by skullkidd

A Modern Manservant by Mamalazzer

Pairing Pendragon/Merlin by Anonymous

When was the last time you saw a penguin in England anyway? by Anonymous

Actors:

Acting can get the best of us by Jamallywaljaffa

All Eyes On Us by ambrosius

Camelot's Sweethearts by mariana_oconnor

Clickbait by rou, xancredible

Don't Judge a Book by It's Cover by InTheShadows

Fame and Fortune by Bounding-Heart (Brief_and_Dreamy)

Fan Favorite by harrycrewe

It's Nice to Finally Tweet You by Pendragons Dragonlord (PseudoAuthor)

The Kingdom of the Blaggers by hackthis

Marked by Anonymous

Master Shot by rotrude

No Business Like Show Business by lady_ragnell

Pull You Into Me by evereda

a question to which the answer is not by ctimene

to slay the monster first speak its name by Camelittle

Would You Be Mine, Could You Be Mine by lady_ragnell

Athletes:

Bringing On The Great by Detochkina (need ao3 account)

Caught in a bit of a scandal by quiet_ghost

Champagne from a paper cup (is never quite the same) by anna_zee

Complications (With Spiderman T-Shirts and Optimistic Outcomes) by herbeautifullie

The Dare by Seravia

Game, Set, Match by ingberry

oh, darling dear by crookedemrys

Rainbow Laces by fifty_fifty

Snowboarding Is More Fun With Two by AidraMyrdin

Stepping Up by fifty_fifty

Straws In The Wind by i_claudia

There Are No Gays in Football by Malu_3 (Grainne)

This Is Not What I Came for (It's Better) by GeekLover

This Silly Ol' Dance Is Perfect for Two by SlantedKnitting

Three lions on a shirt by bunnysworld

twitterature by cominupforair

Musicians & Singers:

.and i am alive by thisissirius

Chasing the Dragon by Camelittle

Father and Son by Clea2011

Feel the Chemicals Kickin' In by supercalvin

In My Cardboard Walls by tinylilremus

No Business I Know by 55sunsets

Now That I'm Rich They Give Me Coffee by lady_ragnell

An Old Knot in the Heart by maarzanna

Public Image by orphan_account

Sorcerers & Knights, and their long-lost Prince by DracoWillHearAboutThis

Step By Step by eldee (need ao3 account)

Turning Page by mightypretty

We Are All Diamonds by Footloose

#merlin fic rec #merthur fic rec #fic list: fame #arthur: famous #merlin: famous #arthur: actor #merlin: actor #arthur: athlete #merlin: athlete #arthur: musician #merlin: musician #~graphic design is my passion~#mod danielle

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mortedeveles · 4 years ago

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A Letter To My Love.

P1: Chaotic Interviews. ALTML MASTERLIST.

NOTE: PLEASE READ THE NOTES IN THE MASTERLIST !

SUMMARY: Tamaki Amajiki, also known as the Pro Hero Suneater, has been your friends for years. You’ve known each other since U.A. During his entire life, Tamaki has fought against his internal demons, insecurities, and voices that rage in his mind. With the help of his friends Nejire and Mirio and you, he was able to overcome his fears and become one of the most successful Pro Heroes in Japan.

In the last few years, writing has become an outlet for Tamaki when he feels troubled. And being a Pro Hero comes with great luggage- including hyper fans and their strange romantic theories. One of them being 'TamaY/N', a romantic ship created by his fans. As an anonymous writer, Amajiki can finally express the love and affection he's harbored for Y/N for several years through fanfiction when he has spare time. But when Y/N discovers the infamous fanfiction after an awkward interview, drama, heartbreak, and confusion are bound to break loose.

PAIRING: ProHero! Tamaki Amajiki x Fem!ProHero!reader

THEMES: pining, fluff, angst, etc. [SERIES]

TW: cursing, sexual innuendos, mature themes.

a/n: my requests are open for business lovelies! i proofread this but if i made any mistakes, please let me know! as always, please leave a like, reblog, follow and/or comment if you enjoyed! i appreciate the support and feedback <3

''His heart sings in joy in her presence. Around her, he's blessed with a sudden warmth that soothes his bones and washes over all the tension and strain in his muscles.''

_______

''Good morning!'' you greet hurriedly to all the workers you leave behind as you race towards the third floor.

Shit, shit, shit! You had an interview with an important press with Tamaki today and it was about to start in three minutes! Luckily, you'd managed to make it to Tamaki's agency on time, but you were yet to arrive at the designated floor. Once you reached the elevator, you let out a sigh of relief. It was empty and while you waited for the elevator to open, you began to pat and smooth over your Pro Hero costume.

It consisted of a sleeveless loose black top with a pair of black shorts, with silver armor that started from your shoulders up to your elbows, paired with black combat boots and silver gloves with some metal and gadgets that allowed you to improve the use of your quirk Liquify.

Before you knew it, the elevator dinged open and you quickly stepped out, plastering a bright smile on your face. The third floor had been emptied- and the equipment from the press stood in the middle- two elegant chairs, cameras and lights, and a few dozen reporters mingling. At the back of the floor, you noticed Tamaki, wearing his Pro hero suit. He was facing the wall- he tended to do when he was nervous.

''Good morning!" you greeted the reporters, who smiled in response. ''I apologize for my tardiness.''

''It's okay. It's a pleasure to meet you, Pro Hero Unda,'' a busy looking woman approached you. She glanced towards Tamaki. ''Do you think you could get Suneater ready for the interview?''

You shoved down a stressed sigh and nodded. ''I'll get him right away!" with one last smile, you stepped away and approached the nervous blue-haired man.

''Tama,'' you spoke in a soft voice and pressed a hand on his shoulder. He was slightly trembling and was muttering something along the lines of 'I want to go home.'

''Y/N,'' his voice was trembling. ''You're late.''

''Ma'am?'' you called out to the lady that had approached you earlier. ''We're ready.''

You sighed and pinched your nose. ''I know, Tama,'' your heart felt heavy. ''I'm really sorry. I was busy doing paperwork and time flew by. Can you forgive me?''

He nodded and turned around and you nearly jumped with joy. The two of you approached the press and sat down on the chairs.

All of the workers quickly surrounded you and you clenched your fists on your lap. Now that they were all crowded around you, it felt like all of them were studying you, nitpicking and silently judging you in their eyes.

You glanced towards Tamaki. It wasn't a surprise that he looked like he felt the same as you. Offering him a small smile, you squeezed his shoulder comfortingly. He offered you a weak smile.

''Good morning, Japan! This is your favorite reporter, Hirano Chizue! I'm live with our two favorite Pro-Heroes, Suneater and Unda!" the smile on her face was so dazzling you were sure it was fake.

''Alright! Let's get started!'' the businesswoman clapped her hands and sat down on the seat in front of you. ''Camera crew, get in position! We're live in 1..2...3!''

You heard several workers move behind you-most likely the ones with cameras and the lady in front of you held a microphone as she smiled towards the camera.

''How are you two doing this morning?'' She pointed the microphone towards both of you.

''Fine, thank you,'' you smiled softly. Tamaki swallowed and raised his gaze towards the businesswoman.

''I'm feeling okay, thank you for asking,'' his voice was somewhat low but at least he replied.

''Good, good!'' Hirano said. She pulled out a clipboard with a neat stack of papers.

''We're honored that you accepted to the interview. Do you mind if we start? The questions are fan-submitted and others are from our crew! Since the two of you are new rising heroes, Japan is eager to know the two of you!''

You didn't notice how Tamaki froze at the word 'fan'. You were barely a few minutes into the interview and you already felt exhausted. Nevertheless, you smiled and nodded.

''Not at all. Ask away.''

Hirano grinned- you didn't miss the hungry glint in her eyes- what type of questions had she chosen?

''This question is for Suneater!'' she shot him a brief smile before trailing her eyes on the paper. Hirano's smile grew.

''What's your relationship with Unda? Are the two of you dating?''

You coughed awkwardly, averting your gaze towards the floor.

''N-no,'' your friend sounded nervous. ''We're good friends, that's all.''

When Tamaki said the word 'friends', you couldn't stop the painful ache that throbbed in your chest. You knew that he meant well but you had hoped for years that one day, the two of you would be more than just friends. Clearly, today wasn't that day.

Hirano hummed in response, but she didn't seem convinced.

''The two of you have a beautiful friendship,'' she complimented. The two of you muttered a 'thank you'. Hirano's beady eyes focused on you.

''This question is for Unda! Tell me, your fans are dying to know more about your quirk! Could you give us a brief explanation of your quirk, Liquify?''

A good question, you thought with a smile. Even though it was modern times, the oppression of women and misogyny hadn't been fully eradicated- and it showed during Pro Hero interviews, asking women nothing but shallow questions while the men received interesting ones. Her question was quite refreshing.

''Of course!" this time, your smile was more genuine. ''So, my quirk Liquify focuses on the state of matter of an inanimate object. I can turn any inanimate object- it doesn't work on plants or animals- into liquid and bend it to my will! I can also return the material into its original state, but I can change its figure and volume,'' you waved your hands as you explained.

''That's a marvelous quirk! Would you mind giving us a demonstration?''

''That was an excellent demonstration, Unda!'' you shot Tamaki a glance. He was staring at the ground but when you glanced towards him, he met your eyes and smiled. You smiled back.

With a nod of agreement, you rose and grabbed the closest thing- an empty mug and wrapped your hand around it. When you opened your palm, the once red mug was now a red liquid hovering about your palm, sloshing side to side.

The press gasped in amazement and applauded. You smiled gratefully and returned to your seat.

''Thank you, miss.''

''Now,'' she flipped a page. ''Ooh. This is another question for you, Unda. It's quite a juicy question,'' Hirano bit her lip and grinned.

''Have you ever read books about TamaY/N?''

Next to you, Tamaki flinched in his seat and coughed lowly. No one seemed to notice, the attention was on you.

You furrowed your eyebrows and shook your head.

''I'm sorry, is it a book? What's TamaY/N? I haven't heard of it before...'' you trailed off and glanced at Tamaki, hoping for some kind of help, but he wouldn't meet your gaze. You noticed that the tip of his pointed ears was turning red. Was he feeling okay?

Hirano cackled and shook her head. ''No, TamaY/N is the ship name for Tamaki and you. The fans seem to like seeing the two of you together. It's called fanfiction.''

''Oh...'' you said, feeling clueless. Once the information sunk in, you felt your cheeks bloom with warmth. ''Oh.''

''Oh indeed,'' Hirano agreed. ''It's quite scandalous, you should read some on your own! You'd understand what I'm talking a-,''

''Oh, um, well...'' you nervously played with your fingers.

''Isn't this a professional interview?'' Tamaki snapped. His voice was loud and firm and Hirano flinched in her seat.

''I appreciate the support of fans but we are Pro Heroes and have a right to main-maintain our privacy. The status of our romantic experiences is private and will remain that way.''

You nodded in agreement, remaining silent as you had nothing else to add. Hirano looked surprised- she cleared her throat and quickly recollected herself with a smile.

''My sincerest apologies, Suneater, we didn't know you felt like this about your... relationship status. Here, let me find another question for Unda...''

The interview continued for half an hour- but the tension was much more tense and awkward than before. Tamaki gave short and clipped answers.

After the interview, Hirano quietly thanked you for your time and the press quickly left. After an hour, the only ones left were Tamaki and you. He was sitting in the corner of the room. He didn't look particularly nervous but the scowl on his face made you frown with worry.

Slowly, you approached him and sat down next to him. You spent a few minutes in silence before speaking up.

''Are you okay, Tama?''

You shook your head. ''It's okay. If you want to keep those inquires private, that's perfectly fine. And to be fair, it's better that way. The press feeds on any source or evidence of romance in the Pro Hero industry.''

Tamaki was silent. You noticed how he clenched his fists and lowered his head.

''I'm sorry,'' he mumbled. His shoulders slumped. ''I was being very rude and distant...''

Tamaki smiled at you- but the look in his eyes was distant.

''Yeah...''

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

After the exhausting interview, Tamaki and you had worked for hours in his agency- racing outside to save civilians, filing paperwork, until it was eight o'clock- his agency would be closing early today. The two of you walked towards Mirio's department- he said a celebration was necessary.

''Helloo!'' Mirio yelled loudly. You laughed as he grabbed Tamaki and you into a tight bear hug, squeezing the air out of your lungs. Even though he wasn't a Pro Hero, he was immensely strong.

''I saw the interview!"' Nejire popped up behind the blonde. ''It's your first interview, I think we should celebrate!"

''Congrats, Tama and Y/N!'' Eri said and joined the bear hug, along with Nejire.

''I-I can't breathe!" you complained and Tamaki groaned in agreement. Nejire and Eri giggled in amusement as the hug feel apart and everyone stepped back. Mirio jogged towards the dining table and brought a tray with four bowls with delicious takoyaki.

''I think we should celebrate with takoyaki. I've put on a movie that I think everyone will enjoy. Dig in!''

Immediately, Tamaki snatched the bowl and raced towards the sofa. You laughed in amusement and followed, holding your bowl of takoyaki.

You spent the rest of the night huddled next to Tamaki and Eri on the small sofa, eating takoyaki. Maybe it wasn't a fancy or expensive celebration, but you wouldn't trade anything in the world for moments like these- lively nights with your best friends. All previous thoughts of the awkward interview and whatever that lady had mentioned washed away, only to be brought back tomorrow.

a/n: well!! this is my first time writing for my baby tamaki!! what do you guys think? should i make a tag list for this series? dm me if you’re interested! xx

#mha tamaki #tamaki x reader #amajiki tamaki x reader #amajiki x reader #bnha amajiki #tamaki amajiki #mha x y/n #pro hero tamaki #fem!reader #pro hero! reader #fanfic series #my hero academy fanfiction #my hero fanfic #my writing #A Letter To My Love #mha fanfiction #veles' writing

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 years ago

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Fiction is the lie through which we tell the truth

Warnings: noncon sex (oral, m&f, intercourse)

This is dark!Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: The reader is a fic writer and her number one fan can’t get enough.

Note: This is probably the most meta shit I’ve written but for all the fic writers out there, this one if for you. Hope y’all get the good d you deserve but until then, here’s this!

Please let me know what you think in a reblog/reply! <3 please and thank you.

You let out a sigh of relief and hit ‘post’. It was almost pathetic but it was the best part of your day, or most days. Having something to share with others was nice. The fact that they enjoyed your work and your boredom-induced work made it worth the frustration.

It wasn’t real writing. You knew that. Fanfiction was a genre to be laughed at. You didn’t admit it to anyone but there was a sense of pride to go along with the shame.

That part of you was kept online. The darker parts; the lust, the angst, the fear. It all went hand in hand and no one would guess that the bookshop assistant was stevies-doll. It felt almost scandalous to have a virtual alter ego.

You closed your laptop and checked the time. More than enough to get ready for work. Plain blouse, grey pants, mary jane flats. You were the typical bookish girl with dreams that would never come true.

The bus was late. Oh well. You’d still be there in time you’d just have to forego your usual espresso. Afternoons were draining and you often needed the boost to keep from nodding off in the last hour. You really weren’t sure why the shop stayed open so late; not many came out after five for books but traffic was relatively steady in the hipster village.

Nina met you with a frown. She preferred you at least ten minutes earlier. Tardiness had seen several other clerks fired and you had been the only to make it more than a year in the shop. Three in fact. This place was like a second home. A garden of ideas to plant the seeds of your mind.

When Nina left, you rearranged the desk. You moved aside her ledger and replaced it with your notebook, two pens to the right of it. In between the chime of the door and the rare customer queries you did most of your writing. When you reached a block you’d read, but today you felt particularly inspired.

The world was saved again. The news reports had shown footage of the daring rescue. As grim as the situation was, you couldn’t help but fantasize. The first avenger with his golden hair and sharp jawline was every woman’s Adonis. At least, you thought he was the very picture of perfection.

It wasn’t obsession. That was your mantra. You often argued with yourself. As much as you thought of the great Steve Rogers, it was only admiration. It wasn’t the possessive infatuation often found on social media. It was a hobby. An escape from the world.

You bent over the notebook. The shop was empty. The dulcet tones of indie folk floated along the shelves. You set pen to paper and waited for the ring to draw you away from the world behind your eyes.

You leaned on the counter and scribbled the first line in ink. That was always the hardest part. Then again, the beginning was always more exciting than the end.

‘The day the earth went dark, there was but one beacon left to shine…’

It was amusing at first. The thought of another person spending so much time writing about him. That someone would fabricate an entire universe in which he was entirely different. Somewhere out there was a woman who wore the pseudonym ‘stevies-doll’.

Steve knew he should have been perturbed by the fact. The idea of another so consumed by him that they would post almost every other day about him. He couldn’t remember how he stumbled on the small blog. A decent following but nothing close to viral.

The first story he read was cute. It even made him feel warm. The second was very much the same. He clicked through to another, this one more serious. Grey and daunting. A few more and he stumbled upon one he found most interesting, the letters NSFW emblazoned across the top. He googled the acronym and clicked back to the tab. Excited almost.

When he finished, he was warm in another way. Hot, almost. The things he read, the idea of him doing them, was almost arousing. Of course, he had never done any of it. Had never been more than the perfect gentlemen. Sweet and doting. That was how love should be. But that wasn’t love, no, that story was sex. Pure, unadulterated fucking.

He forced himself away from the computer after that. He needed to sleep. He had intended to browse his email quickly but he often found himself in the oddest rabbit-holes. That was definitely the deepest. He shook his head and chuckled. It was funny.

The next morning he awoke and went about his usual routine. He was out the door by seven. Off to save the world. Or wait around for it to need saving. At Stark Tower, he listened to Tony with his eyes on his phone. It wasn’t anything important. Some recounting about how he had scared Pepper with a nano-spider.

Steve gave a half-hearted chuckle and Tony went back to his screen. “Tough audience,” He muttered to Bruce who merely shook his head.

Steve leaned against a stool and squinted at his phone. He stared at the google search. Why had he typed it in? Somewhere in the tedium of Tony’s chatter, he had keyed in the name. He hit the first link and his phone loaded slowly.

His own face stared back at him. The banner was a press photo he had taken over a year ago. His bright eyes were staunch beneath the mask as he stared off into the distance. She had posted again. His thumb hovered over ‘read more’. Did he dare?

He looked up to make sure he was not being observed. The two scientists were too distracted to care about his online activity. He stood straight and cleared his throat. “I’m gonna hit the gym,” He lied. A grumble from both scientists as they squinted at the floating screens. “Right, have fun.” Steve said dryly as he left them to their work.

He stepped out in the hall and pressed his thumb to the screen. He bent his head over the phone as he walked blindly down the halls. Neither Tony or Bruce noticed through the window that he had gone entirely the wrong way. Steve didn’t either as his eyes flitted over the screen.

‘The day the earth went dark, there was but one beacon left to shine…’

You couldn’t believe how much your blog had grown in the last few months. You didn’t know if it betrayed your unexciting life or your one-track mind. Both, maybe. But it made your everyday responsibilities a little less tedious.

And the messages were even better than the hit count. Several had messaged to say they loved your work and went so far as to call you an inspiration. It was flattering but it was easy to remember who you were. No Stephen King or JK Rowling. You wrote silly one shots with limited development.

Today your inbox had been steady. Every time you found yourself bored at work, you opened the app and you had another message. Most of them short or even just emojis but nice nonetheless. And there was one you were waiting to answer

So long and in depth you had to give it more than just a thanks. You opened it several times and reread it.

‘Your story is really interesting. I think the way your portray Steve is believable. In this type of writing you rarely find anything realistic but your writing feels genuine if not entirely accurate. I would say you capture the essence of Steve perfectly and his actions at least make sense.

I always enjoy your updates and even look forward to them...especially the NSFW ones. ;)’

It was one of the few users who didn't use the anonymous feature and also left a complete comment. It was refreshing and you had come to look forward to their commentary. They went by CapUSA. Another Steve fangirl who was surprisingly inactive outside your blog. Her page was almost a clone of your own. They liked every post, reblogged, and commented. What more could a writer ask for?

Original characters maybe and not just fantasies of someone who’d never know of her existence. You closed your laptop and sighed. It felt like time. You could feel the block at the back of your head. The little thrill you got was wearing off and it felt like a phase better left to fade with your emo days in high school and that month in university when you dyed your hair purple.

You readied for work. Back on days that week. Opening was always easier. It didn’t feel so drawn out. Nina would be in at one and you’d keep her company until four. It meant little time for writing. Maybe that was for the better. You needed to start planning. For the future. For something truly your own. A fantasy so detached from reality that it would make market and maybe even a dime.

That was your dream. You didn’t want to be the listless fangirl forever. Ugh, how you hated to even call yourself a fangirl. No post today, you resigned. Maybe none tomorrow. You’d have to work up the courage to announce your hiatus. Life was calling and for once a sliver of genuine inspiration.

And the bookstore. It was Shakespeare’s birthday, which conveniently was also his death day. This meant two for one on all of his works. Nina also hired actors to stand outside the shop and re-enact famous scene from the playwright’s repertoire. They wouldn’t arrive till noon but you had a lot of set-up to do. Enough to keep you from thinking of the disappointed messages that would fill your inbox.

Steve scrolled through the pale pink blog for the dozenth time that morning. It had been two weeks since stevies-doll posted. The longest two weeks of his life. He wasn’t sure when it had become a staple in his life. A ritual almost. He’d read her latest fic as he laid down and try to clear his head of blood and grime. Lose himself in the person she dreamed he was. The man he had come to envy. Fictional but all too real in his head.

But there was nothing. At first he re-read and read again. But that grew old. He knew almost every story by heart at this point. He could recite the intro line to most and he fell asleep as his imagination reconstructed the things he had never done.

Her banner flashed across his sight when he woke, the image of his blue eyes staring beyond him. He’d come to think of her Steve as an altar ego. The beast buried deep inside of him. He was tired of being the nation’s golden child. Their unwavering moral beacon. He wanted to be him and she had helped him figure out who he truly was.

But she was gone. No green dot above her name in the chat window, her last post dated fourteen days ago, her blog like a time capsule. The ice that had preserved him for seventy years. Where was she?

Then a thought struck him. A devious one. He had been on enough missions to know his way around a computer. He considered himself quite savvy after living nearly a decade ahead of his time. It was simple enough. He tracked down many a drug pin this way and they were often concealed behind walls of encryption. He doubted she had more than a store-bought antivirus, if that.

He climbed out of bed and booted his computer. His leg shook impatiently and he tossed his phone just beneath the corner of the monitor. He rubbed his palms together as the home screen loaded and he clicked on the browser.

Her IP was simple enough to find. Right-click, inspect. When he found it, he felt his heart jump. This was a line. A very clear one. If he did this, there was no going back. He let go of the mouse and leaned his chin in his hands. He stared at her page, split by the window of code, and his jaw ticked.

He hit back and went to the messenger. He clicked on her name and his fingertips ran over the space bar. He didn’t know what to say. He’d send her little asks about her fics but he never messaged her directly. Would she respond?

‘Hey,’ He typed slowly, his fingers sped up with each key, ‘I’m a fan of your work. I think it’s excellent. I just wanted to check in and see if you were still writing for this blog.’

He hit enter and waited. He focused on the grey dot beside her name. If she saw this, it likely wouldn’t be until morning. He checked the time and sighed. It was late. He had an early briefing with Tony and he should try to sleep.

He hovered the cursor over the x but the dot turned green and he paused. The little ‘...’ blipped in the bottom of the chat box and the ding of her reply was music to his ears.

‘Hey, sorry. I know I’ve been quiet lately. I’ve just been so busy with work. I’m a bit behind at the moment. Thank you though for following me. I always enjoy your comments :)’ He read it several times before he could reply. Before he could even think of the words to.

‘It’s okay. We all have responsibilities. Take your time.’ He wanted to tell her to hurry up but who knew? She might be someone important, like a lawyer or teacher. He could wait. As long as there was hope.

‘Thanks. I appreciate that. Really.’ That response was quicker. Curt, almost.

‘I don’t want to overstep but are you okay?’ His cheeks were hot.

‘Ah, you know, life.’

He scratched his chin as he leaned back in his chair. Slowly he sat forward and typed. It took him three tries to get it right. Concerned but not pushy. ‘Anything you wanna talk about?’ He waited. The three dots appeared then faded. Several times before her answer blipped up.

‘I don’t wanna trouble you but I appreciate you asking. Nothing I won’t get over.’

‘Ok, no problem. Just know that if you need it, I could listen. It’s could to talk about stress.’ He laughed at himself. He should take his own advice. He had a horrible habit of letting things pile up until he burst at the seams.

‘Thanks again. I’ll ttyl. I gotta get some sleep. Have a good one.’

‘You, too,’ He replied a bit too quickly. ‘Talk to you then.’

You were ready to post again. It had been almost a month since your last fic and you had been reluctant to return. You couldn’t help checking in daily to see your notifications and scroll mindlessly through your own content. And your offline writing had come to a halt. You were stuck and you didn’t know how else to cope but fall back on what you knew.

Your new friend had helped too. CapUSA had quickly become a stalwart of your blog. She, or he, you still weren’t sure, spoke to you almost everyday. They encouraged you to try one more fic as you mulled over a certain prompt. Why not? It would be like a writing exercise. Maybe it would help you with your original writing. Take some of the pressure off.

And you didn’t just talk about writing. You talked about the bookstore and Nina’s incessant complaints. You talked about the stresses of your lives. Friends, or lack thereof. Cap seemed a popular person and recounted stories of the latest drama. A close knit group of friends who acted more like adversaries. It was amusing and made your forget that your life was rather empty.

You hit post and smiled. That familiar rush rolled over you and you snapped closed your laptop. You were already dressed and ready for work. You crammed in the quick editing session before the bus was due and now you’d have to run for it.

Back on afternoons. It was rainy and you were soaked by the time you got to the shop. The weather always helped traffic and you ducked behind the counter where Nina was tending to the line with Cara, a new addition. The curly-haired blonde reminded you of old Hollywood. Her high cheekbones and rose lips rivaled Monroe’s.

“Do you want me to start early?” You asked as you tucked your bag under the counter between them.

“You better. I’m gone in ten and Cara’s only on til three.” Nina muttered. “We got a new shipment. Boxes are at the end of the aisles. We’ve not had a chance to touch ‘em.”

“Okay, I’ll get right on it,” You pin your name tag on and stepped back around the counter. She was in one of her moods and all the better that you avoid her until she left. You went to the end of the history aisle and opened the box against the wall.

‘You working?’ The vibration drew your attention from re-arranging the non-fiction section. The message floated in a bubble on your lock screen. You smiled. This faceless stranger felt like more. Of course, virtual friendships were often fleeting.

You glanced down the aisle, both Nina and Cara were squinting at the computer as a customer waited patiently for them to figure out their conundrum. You swiped away the lock and typed swiftly with your phone hidden behind your leg.

‘Closing. Here all night.’

‘Oh :( you got company at least?’

‘For a couple more hours. But no shortage of work. :/’

‘Damn. Should I leave you alone?’

‘Up to you. My responses might be sporadic. Boss isn’t very pleasant today.’

‘Cool. I just read your new fic.’

‘Yeah? Sorry I haven’t checked my notifications just yet.’

‘No problem. I left a comment is all.’

‘What are you up to?’

‘Taking a break from driving. I should actually get back to it. It’s a long trip.’

‘Where are you going?’

‘To see a friend.’

‘Ah, ok. Well, drive safe.’

‘I will ;) See ya later.’

‘ttyl :)’

‘Nina’s Nook’. Steve read the crooked moniker several times over. He couldn’t believe he was actually there. That she was inside. He made good time on the road. An eight hour trip in six. Of course, he hadn’t exactly abided the speed limit. His impatience had turned to recklessness. So unlike him.

The sky was dim. The summer nights came later and later. She’d be done in an hour. The streets were dying down and the door hadn’t chimed in almost as long. He felt nervous all of a sudden. He tried to shrug of his anxiety and took a breath.

She wouldn’t know it was him. Well, she might recognize him but she wouldn’t know he was CapUSA. He couldn’t wait to see her reaction. Steve Rogers in her bookshop. In this town. It would be a story she would recount for the rest of her life. An encounter she would never forget.

Oh, he’d make sure she remembered it.

He crossed the street. A single car passed as he stepped up on the curb. It was much quieter than New York. No honking, no shouts, no hissing sewers. He liked it. It was quaint. He stood before the door and peeked through the glass. There was no one behind the desk. But the sign read open and the lights shone in welcome.

He pushed down the handle and slowly opened the door. The bell announced his entrance and a small voice called from the corner of the shop. “One moment, please.” He heard the shuffle of books and light footsteps. She emerged from the far shelves and his lips parted at the sight of her.

He had seen her before. Her few photos on Facebook and Instagram. He had found those shortly after he ferreted out her IP. He couldn’t see much but her privacy settings allowed him a glimpse into her real life. Her smile was nicer than in her pictures.

“Sorry, I was--” She stopped short as she saw him. She blinked. He closed his mouth as hers fell open. Her voice was higher when she spoke next. “I was just sorting some stuff out. I--How can I help you?”

“Um, a friend recommended a book to me and I was passing by, I thought maybe by chance… you might have it.” He kept his voice even. The same one he used for his press conferences.

“Do you have a title?” She asked. He could see her fingers tremble. The guilt as her eyes rounded. She was thinking of all the things she had wrote about him. He was thinking of those too.

“Jeez, you know, I’ve totally forgotten but the author was, uh…” He pretended to think and his eyes drifted down her body. Her flowered blouse was boxy but her pants hugged the curves of her hips and legs. She clasped her hands together and the gesture pushed her chest together between her arms. “Margaret Archer--er, Atwood.”

“Hmm, she’s done a lot. Do you know what it’s about?” She pulled her hands apart and wiped her palms on her dark pants. His eyes followed the movement. He wanted his hands there. Wanted to feel her thighs against him.

“Something about an apocalypse...um, a character named...Snow--Snow something.” He acted like he coudn’t remember. Couldn’t recall that it was stevies-doll who had recommended the very book.

“Oh, Oryx and Crake, I think it is. It’s an interesting one.” She smiled, proud to have figured out the riddle. “If you will, it should be with our most popular books.”

She hesitated as she passed him. He followed her as she went to the shelf just beside the counter. She hovered her finger before the titles as she read them. She bent as she got lower. He admired her ass as she did. He tucked his hands in his pocket before he could reach out.

“Yeah, I think it’s in sci-fi.” She stood and peeked over her shoulder. “It’s just over here.” She led him down the narrow aisle to the end. “Starts just here so Atwood…” She scanned the shelf, “Here.” She pulled out the book and held it out to him. “We have it in hardcover too.”

He took it and felt the raised letters on the cover. “Thanks.” He didn’t even acknowledge the book in his hand. The aisle was so tight she was trapped between him and the wall. She gave a sheepish smile and he turned to press his back to the shelf. “Sorry. Go ahead.”

She nodded and squeezed past him. Her chest brushed against his torso and she pretended not to notice. Once past him, she cleared her throat. “If you need any help, I’ll be up front.” She turned before he could respond and her watched her go. He never would’ve guessed the mousy shop assistant would have such a lurid imagination.

You were in disbelief. It couldn’t be. Steve Rogers in your book shop? No, you were dreaming. Or was it a nightmare? Oh god, why had you written all that stuff? You needed to delete. Now. You could hear him. The floor creaked as he moved slowly down the aisle. You hoped he would’ve taken the book and gone. The longer he stayed, the worse you felt. Your cheeks were on fire.

Your phone vibrated. You swiped the screen and found a new message from CapUSA. You sighed and rubbed your eyes. You should just pretend you didn’t see it. You unlocked the phone and read the message.

‘Hey, how’s work?’

‘It’s fine.’ You answered. What could you say? Who would believe that Steve Rogers had walked in your door?

‘I just was thinking about your last fic.’

‘Oh yeah?’ You peeked over at the far aisle. The floor no longer whined with his weight.

‘Yeah, I’d love to re-enact the last scene.’

‘Sorry?’ You sent the message and it went unanswered. ‘I don’t get it. What do you mean?’

‘The one with the girl on her knees. Begging to be fucked.’

‘Okay? I still don’t understand.’ Your heart jumped. This was really weird.

‘Or maybe and I could fuck you on that counter you’re standing behind.’

You hit close and locked the phone. You dropped it and looked around the shop. You rushed out from behind the counter and glanced out the window. You turned the latch and the floorboards groaned. You turned and pressed yourself to the door. You forgot he was there.

How could you forget something like that?

“Sorry, uh, we’re closing up,” You felt around for the lock, “I was just--”

“That’s okay. I think I’m just about done.” He slapped the book against his palm and placed it on the corner of the counter. He set his phone on top of it with a flourish. “Why don’t you flip the sign and we can get started.”

“What are you--”

“Do you prefer I call you by your real name or stevies-doll?” He leaned against the counter and smirked. “Or I can just call you doll. I know you like that.”

“No,” You exhaled shakily, “Y-you can’t be…”

“You’re not happy to see me?” He asked. He didn’t sound like the hero you saw on the news. Barely looked like him now. His pupils dilated to darken his blue eyes and the shadows of the shop cast his face in sinister tones. “You can call me Stevie if you like.”

“I...What I wrote, it was just...” You spluttered. “I’m s-sorry.”

“You don’t have to be.” He pushed himself away from the counter. “I’m not mad. Intrigued really.”

He stepped closer and your ears pounded as the adrenaline coursed through your veins. You turned and fumbled with the lock. The door opened an inch before his hand slammed it shut again. He easily flipped the lock back into place and spun the sign with a flick of his thumb.

“You can close early and we can have some fun...maybe inspire a new fic.” His arm was around your waist and you grabbed onto his thick wrist.

“They’re just stories.” You kicked as he pulled you away from the door. He tugged the blind down over the window. “Stupid fantasies.”

“Well, consider this a dream come true, doll,” He spun and let you go. You collided with the desk and gasped as the air was knocked from your lungs. “I think you remember this scene.”

“What do you want?” You clung to the desk as you turned to him.

“You know, I’m everything people think I am. Straight-laced, valiant, boring.” He planted his feet and stared you down. “Or was...until I found your blog.” His tongue ran across his bottom lip. “It gets lonely on the road. At first, your blog was like a secret companion. It gave me something to look forward to but then it made me think. So many things I never even knew I was missing out on.”

“Please, I don’t know what you want from me,” Your voice cracked. Your fear surged and left you shaking against the counter.

“I want…” He tilted his head and his eyes flashed, “You.” He paused and pushed his shoulders back. “On your knees.” Your eyes rounded, “Oh yes,” He raised a finger, “Naked.”

You stared at him. You were frozen in place. The counter your only support from melting into a puddle. His nostrils flared as he exhaled; long and drawn out.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” He snarled and his hand balled into a fist.

You gulped and held yourself with one hand against the counter as you bent to unlace your oxfords. You kicked them off with your socks and mustered your strength. You stood on your own and unbuttoned your shirt. You kept your eyes on the aged carpet stretched across the hardwood.

You dropped the blouse onto your shoes and unzipped your fly. The wool trousers slid halfway down without help and you untangled your legs from them. You added them to the heap and stood straight.

“Look at me,” Steve ordered. Your eyes snapped over to him. “Good.” You reached back and he raised a hand. “Stop...I wanna do it.”

He waved you forward and slowly you stepped away from the counter. He bared his palm in a gesture for you to halt and you hung your head. “Eyes up.” He corrected as he came closer. He walked around you and stopped just behind you.

His thick fingers touched the band of your bra and ran along it until they met at the hooks. He carefully unclasped it and the cups fell loose. He tickled your arms as he pushed the straps down them. He took it and flung it away from him. His hands came up to cup your tits and he pushed himself flush to your back.

“You always wrote so vividly of me but...I never knew how beautiful you truly were...how good you feel.” He squeezed and slowly lowered his hands. He dragged them to the side of your panties and slipped his fingers beneath the elastic. He bent as he guided the panties down your legs. “God, that ass.”

You shivered and his hands cradled your ass. He ran his rough palms along your cheeks and up your back. They settled on your shoulders and he pushed down firmly. “On your knees.”

He stepped back and you unsteadily got to your knees. He walked another circle around you. You could hear his dusky breaths. Glimpsed how his hand ran over the front of his jeans.

“Now ask, like a good girl,” He stopped before you and stared down with a smirk. “Go on, doll, I know you want it.”

You closed your eyes and swallowed. You grit your teeth and gather what was left of your wits. A story. That’s all this was. The letters could be backspaced and no one would know better of it.

“Please,” You recalled the last scene you had posted. The tingle which had flowed through you as you hit the button. What had she said? You opened your eyes. “Please, I want to...I want to make you happy.” You shuddered as the words whisked from you. “Can I?”

“Can you...what?” He taunted.

“Can I suck your dick?” It was barely a whisper.

“Oh, well, since you asked so nicely,” His hands were on his belt as he spoke. “But I have a different scene in mind for tonight. A new one.” He unbuckled his belt and cracked his neck. “I want you on the counter. On your back.”

You made to stand and his hand went to your head. He held you down.

“Crawl.”

You weakly dropped forward and turned. You crawled on hands and knees as he followed, stopping just in front of the desk as you followed his pointed finger to the other side. You stood and lifted yourself onto the counter and laid on your back. He guided your head over the side as he pulled you close and his hands found your tits again. He tweaked your hard nipples and you bit your lip.

He rescinded his hands and finished unzipping his pants. You tried not to watch as he pushed his pants down, his briefs too. The blur focused and you gaped at the size of him. He gripped himself and you snapped your mouth shut. He grabbed your chin and squeezed.

“Now, now, don’t act like this isn’t what you wanted,” He pressed his cock to your mouth and you were forced to open as his fingers threatened to crush your jaw.

He slid inside and your gasp was stifled as he met the back of your throat. He forced himself further and you threw your arms out. A clatter of books and papers as you swept them off the counter. He lingered at his limit and wiggled his hips. You arched your back as you choked and he grabbed your tit, kneading it as he slowly pulled out.

He pushed back in just as you gulped down air and you writhed atop the desk. He thrust in and out of your mouth. You gagged and groaned. The noises only fueled his fervour and he sunk in over and over until your head pulsed. The spit smeared around your lips and his balls.

He pulled back and slammed back in suddenly. His motion slowed as he came. He grunted, his breaths stuttered by the staggered rock of his pelvis. You clawed at the counter top and kicked until you could breathe again.

He slipped his cock from between your lips and his cum leaked from your mouth. You sat up and coughed. His hands were on your shoulders again. His fingers danced along your throat as if to ease your struggles.

“Come on, that’s just the first act,” He drew away and you glanced over your shoulder. “Turn around.”

You turned on the desk and he pulled your legs over the edge. He pushed your knees apart and stepped back to admire the view. You dug your nails into the lip of the counter to keep yourself from closing your legs.

“I know you’ve been dying to see this,” He grinned and pulled his shirt over his head.

His cock hung out of his pants. It twitched as he tossed his shirt at you. You caught it. It smelled like him. He shoved his pants down without pause and he hardened again. You dropped his shirt and looked away guiltily.

Had you not written this scene a dozen times over?

He was completely naked when you looked again. He came close, his hands on your knees as he knelt before you. You tried to pull your legs together but he held them apart. He shook his head and tutted.

“Just sit back and enjoy,” He licked his lips. “Trust me, it’s better than you could ever imagine.”

Your shock took over completely. You watched as he bowed his head and you felt his hot breath on your thighs. When his tongue met your pussy you gasped. He delved between your folds and swirled around your clit. Your nails went deeper into the wood and your thighs shook. It felt good. It shouldn’t, though.

He buried his face deeper and you watched his golden locks from above. He reached over blindly, his large hand found yours, and he guided it to the back of his head. He held it there a moment before letting go. You clung to him as he hands glided up your thighs and he framed your vee with thumb and index.

You arched your back and moaned. It was your declaration of surrender. You couldn’t resist it any longer. The heat stirred inside of you, the flames licking at your thighs and back. You urged Steve closer though he couldn’t possibly go any deeper.

His hands slipped down to the outside of your thighs. Your legs closed around his head and held him there. He tipped you slightly and you curled around him as he continued to lap. Your breaths mixed with throaty hums and you fell back.

You had one hand still on his head and the other in your hair as you cried out in a mighty climax. He didn’t stop until you were shaking across the counter. When at last his mouth left you, you shivered. A sudden coolness washed over your body. He stood and you looked at him through the haze.

He grabbed your waist and pulled you to your feet. You wavered and he spun you quickly. You caught yourself on the desk and he slapped your ass. “That’s it,” He purred. “You’re getting it now.”

He nudged your shoulder until you were bent entirely over the counter, your toes barely met the floor. He rubbed your ass and pulled your cheeks apart. His cock poked you as his hand slipped lower and he tickled just below your ass. You squirmed and he chuckled.

He felt around and his cock slipped lower as he bent his knees. He dragged his tip along your folds before prodding at your entrance. He shoved his hand between your legs and forced them apart.

He pushed inside and slowly stretched you around him. Your head shot up at the strain. A mix of pain and pleasure as he got deeper and deeper.

You whined as he bottomed out and his hips bucked almost instinctively. He hit your cervix and you cried out. He eased out and pushed back in. He repeated this again and again, his motion careful. Deliberate. He brought his pelvis flush to your ass and groaned.

“Fuck,” He slapped your ass again.

He drew back and slammed into you all at once. All restraint was lost and he thrust mercilessly. His pace was wild. You reached out to grab at the edge of the counter, your hips hitting the other painfully. The spark had caught and you felt the flame about to burst.

Your orgasm was surprising. More agony than pleasure. You whimpered and pushed your head into the counter as you heaved. You could barely breath as Steve never wavered. He fucked until you until your walls ached. Until they turned numb and you were nothing but a mewling fool before him.

He bent over your, his muscled torso against your sweaty back. He rutted atop you frantically. His hips jerked as his grunts deepened. His breath caught and he swore. He lifted himself off you and you felt the warmth spill down your ass and thigh.

You laid breathless as he panted behind you. He rubbed his cum into your skin with two fingers and you shook. You tried to push yourself up from the desk. He caught your hip and shoved you back down.

“Oh, we’re not even close to the finale,” He pinched your ass and you squeaked. “Not to mention the epilogue.”

tags to be added in reblog

#steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers x reader #fic #steve rogers fic #au #marvel #mcu #captain america #dark!steve rogers #dark steve rogers #steve rogers #dark!fic #dark fic #dark!verse #darkverse

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pollyssecretlibrary · 4 years ago

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“When Hugh Winthrop, the future Earl of Albury, decides to advertise for a wife in the London paper, he never expected an anonymous response from a woman who matches him wit for wit. Their back-and-forth letters on the true nature of love, something they disagree on wholeheartedly, leave him shocked—and intrigued. But then the woman he’s been corresponding with shows up on his doorstep, enticingly beautiful and offering a marriage of convenience in exchange for his protection…” . When I requested this book on Netgalley I really didn’t have any expectations of being accepted because I never have luck with writers that I like (it’s not up to them to approve or deny requests) so imagine my reaction when @entangled_publishing sent me an email with a ‘yes’ message. I read a book by @stacy_romanceaddict not long ago and I loved her writing. It was “Accidentally Compromising the Duke” which you should totally read because it is such a sweet book, especially if you like the single father/uncle/guardian trope (which I love). I want to read everything Ms. Reid has written and everything she is yet to write. . The blurb for ‘When the Earl Met his Match’ follows the essence of books like ‘ To Sir Philipp With Love’ by Julia Quinn, the pen pals who fall in love through written words and who surprise each other one fine day. I am so sad that writing letters seems to be a thing of the past, I find them quite romantic even if they’re not love letters. Sitting and writing and thinking carefully of the right words to convey your thoughts and feelings, or trying to describe the events of the day in a way that the other person can relive them in their mind. . Is it me or the man on the cover looks like Eddie Vedder? So sexy! . ‘When the Earl Met his Match’ is the fourth (4th) book in the ‘Wedded by Scandal’ series by Stacy Reid and it ond Kindle (Worldwide) on September 14th, 2020. (en Spain) https://www.instagram.com/p/CETmn1CAijS/?igshid=1xk3hxj56e81y

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maddie-grove · 5 years ago

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Bi-Monthly Reading Round-Up (July/August)

PLAYLIST

"Breakaway” by Kelly Clarkson (The Wonder)

“The Lusty Month of May” from Camelot (Between a Highlander and a Hard Place)

“Blood on My Name” by The Brothers Bright (Vampires in the Lemon Grove)

“Too Good at Goodbyes” by Sam Smith (A Prince on Paper)

“All I See Is You” by Dusty Springfield (The End of Everything)

“Your Song” by Elton John (Patience and Sarah)

“Reach Out and Touch (Somebody’s Hand)” by Diana Ross (Touchy Subjects)

“When You’re Young and in Love” by the Marvelettes (Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda)

“No Sleep Tonight” by the Faders (Can’t Escape Love)

“Take Me in Your Arms (Rock Me a Little While)” by Kim Weston (Bury Me Deep)

“Cold Bread” by Johnny Flynn (Fludd)

“Thunder Road” by Bruce Springsteen (The Rest of the Story)

“How Can I Meet Her?” by the Everly Brothers (Someone to Honor)

“A Matter of Trust” by Billy Joel (The Scandalous Secret of Abigail MacGregor)

BEST OF THE BI-MONTH

The Wonder by Emma Donoghue (2016): Lib Wright, an English nurse who worked with Florence Nightingale in the Crimean War, is hired to observe Anna O’Donnell, an eleven-year-old Irish girl who claims to have not eaten for four months. Initially exasperated at the everyone’s credulity, Lib gradually realizes that there’s a lot more going on with Anna, her family, and her village than she thought...and that the girl may be in serious danger if she doesn’t intervene. Despite my love of Donoghue’s work, I put off reading this one for a while because the subject looked so grim. Although Donoghue does deal with difficult material, the growing relationship between prickly Lib and bright-but-haunted Anna makes the novel transcendent.

WORST OF THE BI-MONTH

Between a Highlander and Hard Place by Mary Wine (2018): After her highborn suitor shows his true colors, Athena Trappes sets fire to his house in self-defense and flees to Scotland. There she attracts the attention of Symon, Laird Grant, a melancholy widower. This Elizabethan romance has its moments, notably a lovely meet-cute at a May Day celebration, but it’s mostly dull with some irritating tropes.

REST OF THE BI-MONTH

Vampires in the Lemon Grove by Karen Russell (2013): In this collection, Russell tells the stories of various oddities, including women who turn into silkworms, presidents who are reincarnated as horses, and, yes, vampires in the lemon grove. The collection is remarkably consistent, and Russell shows enormous range in it. My favorites are the utterly chilling prairie horror of “Proving Up,” the hilariously absurd “The Barn at the End of the Term,” and the heartbreaking “The Graveless Doll of Eric Mutis.”

A Prince on Paper by Alyssa Cole (2019): Nya Jerami has existed under a cloud of suspicion and gossip since her abusive father, an adviser to the king of Thesolo, was sent to prison for poisoning his political rivals. Eager to start her life properly but unsure how, Nya finds unexpected help from Johan van Braustein, the seemingly devil-may-care stepson of the king of a European micronation. This is my favorite contemporary romance I’ve ever read, with two dynamic, endearing protagonists and a strong sense of setting. Cole expertly blends realistic modern-day concerns with frothy wish fulfillment (plus a dash of fairy-tale Gothic).

The End of Everything by Megan Abbott (2011): When her best friend Evie disappears, thirteen-year-old Lizzie only has scanty clues regarding where or why. As she becomes more and more consumed with finding the answer, she discovers dark secrets underlying her seemingly placid 1980′s suburb. Of all the Abbott novels I’ve read, this is the simplest and perhaps the most disturbing. I didn’t love it, but it’s very effective.

Patience and Sarah by Isabel Miller (1969): In 1810′s Connecticut, educated “spinster” Patience White finds herself intrigued by sweet, rough-hewn Sarah Dowling. Although their families contrive to keep them apart, they eventually make it to New York and start a farm together. Of the five f/f romance novels I’ve read, this is my very favorite. Miller captures the feel of early American literature very well, and the romance has a nice balance of tension and sweetness.

Touchy Subjects by Emma Donoghue (2006): This collection of short stories is, naturally enough, organized around “touchy subjects” like babies, domesticity, strangers, desire, and death. There are some jewels in this collection: the sad/funny “WritOr” (about a struggling author who takes on a resident-writer position at a rural college), the bittersweet “The Welcome” (about a naive young lesbian with a crush on a reserved trans woman), and the strangely uplifting “Enchantment” (about a rivalry between Cajun fishermen). There’s a lot of chaff to separate from the wheat, though; many of the stories are very slight.

Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda by Becky Albertalli (2015): Simon Spier, an upper-middle-class teen in suburban Atlanta, isn’t 100% sure why he hasn’t come out as gay to his liberal family or friends, but for now he prefers to keep his sexuality (and a flirtatious email correspondence with an anonymous boy called Blue) under wraps. When a classmate finds out the truth and blackmails Simon into setting him up with his friend Abby, that task becomes a lot more complicated. Despite the rather disturbing premise, this is a super-cute YA novel that I would have loved when I was a YA. (At twenty-eight, I still liked it a lot; it’s just got a sense of immediacy that was a little lost on me thanks to my relatively advanced age, but would’ve been very appealing to me at sixteen.)

Can’t Escape Love by Alyssa Cole (2019): Regina Hobbs, highly successful proprietor of a website about nerdy stuff, has it all together, except she’s suffering from a wicked case of insomnia. She’s convinced that only the voice of Gustave Nguyen, a puzzle designer she got to know after tuning into his livestream, can get her to sleep, so she contacts him to see if she can have a recording of his voice. Even though they both think it’s kind of weird, her request gets them talking...and MORE. This is a short but absolutely delightful novella about two neat people hooking up. The stakes are low, but the tensions stemming from Regina’s family keeps things interesting.

Bury Me Deep by Megan Abbott (2009): In the depths of the Great Depression, Marion Seeley finds herself alone in Phoenix while her morphine-addict husband chases redemption in Mexico. Working an administrative job at a local hospital, she falls in with party-girl nurse Louise, her TB-afflicted girlfriend Ginny, and (much to her sorrow) corrupt, handsome Joe Lanigan. Abbott’s historical crime novel takes a little while to heat up, but once it does it’s a very satisfying thriller. However, I was never convinced of Joe’s attractiveness even at a surface level, which was kind of an impediment to enjoying the story because Marion sure is.

Fludd by Hilary Mantel (1989): A mysterious stranger comes to a deeply Catholic, determinedly miserable English village in the 1950′s, claiming to be the new curate. While there, he greatly affects the lives of an alcoholic priest, his prim housekeeper, an unhappy young nun, and a pompous bishop. This is a highly peculiar, often enjoyable fable, although it drags quite a bit in the third quarter.

The Rest of the Story by Sarah Dessen (2019): Emma, an anxious seventeen-year-old who lost her mom to addiction five years ago, ends up spending part of the summer with her seldom-seen maternal relatives, who own a downscale motel in a lake town. While there, she learns about her mother’s secret history, observes the tensions between her family’s working-class community and the upscale resort people across the lake, has a low-key romance with a childhood friend, and practices her driving. This novel isn’t among Sarah Dessen’s best--the ending is a little rushed, and the romance feels perfunctory--but the setting is cool and Emma is an interesting protagonist.

Someone to Honor by Mary Balogh (2019): Years after her dad’s bigamy was revealed, resulting in her de-legitimization, reserved Abigail Westcott shows no interest in trying to re-enter society, instead opting to hang out with her convalescing Napoleonic War veteran brother. Unfortunately, his surly friend, Lieutenant Gilbert Bennington, is also intent on keeping her brother company to avoid his own problems, and he and Abigail don’t exactly get along. They come to understand each other, though, and decide to take a chance on marriage when Gilbert finds himself in trouble. I found this Regency romance to be solid but overly somber (not an infrequent issue with Balogh). I never got a great sense of who Abigail was and, while I sympathized with Gil, I also found him very irritating at times.

The Scandalous Secret of Abigail MacGregor by Paula Quinn (2015): In the late 1700′s, Queen Anne summons Davina MacGregor, secret eldest daughter of James II (and, were she not Catholic, rightful ruler of Great Britain), to court. Because Davina is sickly, her daughter Abigail, who has ambitions of being clan chieftain, goes to court in her place. She’s accompanied by Captain General Daniel Marlow, a Jacobite-hating English soldier and close friend of Anne’s. He’s got some trust issues and a stalker. This romance had a lot of potential, but too much of it is spent on the road and not enough on juicy court drama. The straight-version-of-Rachel-Weisz’s-character-in-The-Favorite villain was also, unfortunately, usurped by her much more boring lover.

#theme: gayer than usual #books #reading

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