#if you are posting about how awful the met gala is and how the celebrities should be raising funds for gaza etc etc

[ardentperfidy]

.

[cowgurrrl]

since OFTM asks are being answered atm, I thought I'd come through with a few questions of my own about this WONDERFUL and LOVELY series because it's that good!

1. ik we're wayyyyyy past it but do rockstar!joel and actress!reader do anything for Valentine's day? have they done things early on the relationship, do they still celebrate now or maybe it's something simple like posting cute photos of each other on their stories??

2. okay this one is a fun one and I know there was an ask about how reader would potentially be a presenter at an award show BUT would she ever host at some point? if so, i definitely think she'd pull it off + she'd probably do some cute promos as well, maybe even do an announcement promo with joel in some way! i think it'd be fun for her if she did + joel and the kids would LOVE it.

3. as reader ever got to work with big name actors/actresses before or does she prefer more indie like things and working with more unknown actors and actresses?

4. idk if it was mentioned at some point but was reader ever pregnant during a project/role she was doing? how was her experience and what was it like? i def think there'd be times when joel visited the set and she was all smiles because "daddy's here! visiting us" haha, it'd be precious!

5. this one is ABSOLUTELY silly but i notice how some celebrities will be at big events or something such as a tennis game or whatever and some of the reactions are SUCH a mood so i feel like if joel and reader attended some type of event like that, their reactions would be so silly and REAL.

last one finally lmaooo, im sorry i just love these two lots but speaking of special events, i think of how sweet and nice it is to imagine joel just watching from a distance as reader is out doing her thing at a premiere or something like the met gala where she looks GORGEOUS and Joel's thinking "wow, there she is! that's my amazing beautiful wife" 🥹🥹🥹 because he's such a supporter of her HELLO and he's just an awe but also, imagine how reader feels whenever she sees joel on stage knowing that a song is being dedicated to her or just watching her husband from a distance knowing that's the person she's married and fell for.

ANYWAYS! this is so long, again so sorry 😭 but I'm curious to know your answers when you get a chance 👀💜💜💜💜

DONT BE SORRY THIS IS WHAT I LIVE FOR OKAY

I think at the beginning of their relationship, they definitely go all out for Valentine's Day. Nice hotels, dinners, heartfelt (and expensive) presents, the whole nine yards. I think when Sam and the girls are little, it gets harder to do stuff for Valentine's Day especially when you're bouncing between work, school, and helping your children make "Valentimes" for their classmates. Things calm down just a little and you two will settle for a nice, homemade dinner in your messy kitchen after the kids have gone to bed. Joel will send flowers to you at work and you'll humor him with a silly, giggly strip tease even though you're wearing sweatpants and a shirt with marker stains on it. It's pure, domestic bliss. Once the kids are older and they've been married for a long time, I think they would alternate between elaborate plans and low-key ones. After all, they definitely don't need an excuse to be grossly in love with each other.

I could totally see her hosting an award show! She'd be so busy but having so much fun and she'd recruit all her famous contacts to help her with promotion and what not. On the night of, if Joel's not there, he totally sets up a watch party at home with all of the Miller kids, spouses, and grandkids and cheers you on the whole time. If he is there, the kids are probably there too and help you backstage with awards, setting up different presenters, and keeping you calm. You'd all get dressed up and take nice pictures as a family. I see it being hectic but so rewarding (no pun intended)

I think it's a good mix of both! I have it in my personal canon that she does go on to do some Marvel, Greta Gerwig, Bridgerton type projects that have so much hype (and a huge budget) surrounding them but I also see her taking on some smaller roles from smaller production companies as long as the story is good. In my head, Red Dirt Girl (the movie talked about through much of the main storyline) is a smaller production and smaller actors but they all end up taking OFF after that.

I WAS LITERALLY THINKING ABOUT THIS TODAY GET OUT OF MY HEAD okay so I think with Sam, she is definitely pregnant in the middle of filming something but doesn't realize until she passes out at work or something and she gets taken to the hospital where they find out she's pregnant. They weren't trying but they weren't being careful so it's a little bit of a shock but they adjusted. For the first time in her career, she'd let them hire a stunt double for her and would take it easier than she had in the past. They'd definitely have to change some wardrobe and people would treat her like she's made of glass but it's all manageable. Joel would be the biggest change of pace. He'd been on set before but after they find out they're pregnant, HES THERE EVERYDAY. I think they'd fight about it a little bit just because she feels a little smothered and Joel agrees to back off a little. As she progresses, I think she'd be more okay with him visiting and would poke at her belly and be like, "your dad's here." With the twins, they find out relatively early on because her symptoms are so bad it's literally unavoidable and they try to keep it a secret for as long as possible BUT when she goes back to reshoot a scene where she has to be smoking a cigarette or something, she's like, "..... no." and they're like "we need this for continuity," and she's like "I'm pregnant. With twins." BECAUSE WHAT ELSE ARE YOU SUPPOSED TO SAY. I think she would've worked for longer when she was pregnant with Sam than when she was pregnant with the girls just because of the risks and Miller children are not known for being easy so I definitely think she'd have a harder time with the girls than she did with Sam but everything ends up okay!

It's canon to me that the Millers are a BASEBALL FAMILY it was actually one of the first things I wrote for the One for the Money universe! Joel is partial to the Astros (boo) while she's definitely more of a Cubs/Yankees fan because she lived in New York and did a lot of filming in the Chicago/Midwest area for a time. I think they would be able to compromise and cheer for the Dodgers together but when it comes to their personal teams, they don't play around. Sam also goes on to play baseball professionally so I see them going to baseball games together as a big, happy family. Being an actress, she DEFINITELY wouldn't be able to keep her emotions a secret and would regularly be caught yelling, cheering, and dancing along to whatever song is playing through the stadium. God Bless anyone in the nearest vicinity when the Astros and the Yankee's play each other in the World Series.

I 100% think Joel has these moments all the time at events. I see her off doing her own thing like interviews or individual photos and he's just staring at her like "that's really my wife." He's known to get teary or really affectionate on red carpets, giving photographers everything and more. She tends to do the same thing, especially if he's getting recognized for something, and will get choked up during interviews about him. They're just so in love and proud of each other they make me SICK

Thank you for all your fun questions about my little oftm family! I hadn't thought about some of these before and it was really fun to think about them so thank you!!!

[dumdrop]

Hi brain-rotted Tumblr folks! I've come back from the dead to spread awareness and rant about the racism at the 2024 Met Gala towards the K-Pop stars Stray Kids. I have included the original video, however it is not the full video and didnt capture every comment the paparazzi made. I'm thankful their leader Bang Chan handled the situation well and it could have gone a lot worse.

I'll first explain the situation and what exactly happened. Stray Kids were making history as the first K-Pop group to be invited to the Met Gala. This was a big deal and a time for celebration for both the guys and the K-Pop community. They got the recognition that they deserve, represent the K-Pop industry, and get Americans aware of Korean musicians and artists. Stray Kids got a sponsorship or PR deal with Tommy Hilfiger and received custom-made suits to wear on the red carpet. This was a very proud and exciting moment. However, once Stray Kids hit the carpet, they were bombarded and exposed to racist remarks made from paparazzi, shouting things like "they're robots" or that they're "unemotional" and demanding them to do something crazy and jump. One person even made a racist joke saying "oh no, im going to get covid." They even said "arigato" to them sarcastically as they left. This is blatent racism, extremely disrespectful and disgusting behavior, and the guys had to listen to all that. They are not circus animals for you to throw your peanuts at, they are grown ass men!

I don't know if this was an instance where they knew they were Korean so they thought they couldn't understand them, which is classic American thinking. Two members are from Australia and speak English fluently. I know the other members know some English or speak broken English, but even if they didn't speak English and they don't know what you're saying, they know when someone is yelling and being rude to them. They can read facial expressions and hear your tone of voice. These paparazzi crew have zero excuse for their behavior. They most likely don't give a shit and just wanted to trash on foreigners attending this American event.

Imagine visiting a country that has an entirely different culture than yours and a language that you can't speak and how scary that is. You would feel like an outsider, like you don't belong, feelings of anxiety and isolation. No imagine you're feeling all these feelings and standing on a red carpet getting your picture taken by a bunch of people (for which these photos will be seen by millions of people) and they're yelling racist remarks and belittling you, making you feel awful and guilty for being from a different country than them. I can't imagine what that must have felt like. I know Stray Kids have come to America multiple times, but that feeling of "you're in a foreign country" will never go away. This should have been an exciting, amazing experience for them!

Now, Stays and K-Pop lovers have found the paparazzi people that made those remarks and have flocked to their Instagram DMs and demanded an apology to Stray Kids. I know how most K-Pop stans have destroyed people's careers and lives, even for the most tiniest of things, but this time I think it's well deserved and justifiable.

No one deserves to be treated with disrespect and no one deserves to feel like an outsider and that they are not welcome. We must acknowledge that every person, regardless of their race or ethnicity, deserves to be treated with dignity, respect, and fairness. No one should ever be judged, discriminated against, or oppressed because of the color of their skin or their cultural background. I'm making this post because racism really pisses me off and to show how racism is still ever present in 2024. America is a disgrace and should be burned to the ground.

[lizardsfromspace]

Apparently there's a movement called "blockout2024" that is blocking celebs for many reasons, but I've seen it on here from people saying you should block every celeb at the Met Gala, and also a hundred more who nebulously "haven't done enough". This list includes everyone, including Gigi Hadid. You know, the Palestinian-American who is one of the most outspoken pro-Palestinian-freedom celebrities? In fact, it has several Palestinian and pro-Palestinian people prominently on it, lumped in with actual supporters of the genocide against them, and classed as one and the same

Obviously this is a stupid - no wait people are defending it

This isn't even thinking imperfect allies are worse than enemies. The idea that Palestinians who are extremely vocal about supporting Palestine should be dismissed as gross, awful, tone deaf people who need to be blocked and ostracized for attending an event that wasn't even being boycotted is just. What are you even doing.

Gigi Hadid, who donated all of her 2022 earnings to Ukraine and Palestine. Gigi Hadid, who has received death threats over her support for Palestine & who had family members doxxed. Gigi Hadid, who needs to be held to account for...attending a museum fundraiser? Eurovision was being boycotted for very specific reasons, this one is a bunch of people on social media saying "well it's a bit Hunger Games isn't it" because they have the secret BDS list that has all the celebrities they already hate on the top of it. In this case there's also evidence like "she was holding a Starbucks cup in one magazine photoshoot" & "she may be in the background of this photo someone took at a Starbucks", definite proof that she doesn't care and is secretly evil and lying about everything so she can maybe stand in the background of a Starbucks

How can the type of slacktivist that constantly calls everything a psyop look at a list saying "hey, go ahead and block all these pro-Palestinian activists! Make sure to trash them as awful people too. This is violating BDS guidelines btw" and go, this is legit and I need to defend it to the death. They're seriously not only not questioning that but coming up with reasons to justify it? Not the SLIGHTEST bit of pause about anonymous uncited internet lists telling them comrades are irredeemable scum? Everyone who is a slightly different type of communist than them is a Fed, but this anonymous internet list telling them to stop boosting anyone with a platform who supports their cause...that's the real thing baby

Also it is slacktivism. It is slacktivism to make a righteous cause out of blocking celebrities on Instagram en masse. It's funny that a lot of these posts say they don't care about celebrities when like. Yes, if you're attaching grave importance to methodically blocking thousands and thousands of famous people, you...are actually extremely celebrity-obsessed? Far, far more than most people. Literally no one else is still talking about the Met Gala, if it was a distraction, the one getting distracted is you. If your activism is about finding ways to justify silencing Palestinians and supporters for minor mistakes bc a random internet list told you to...I repeat: what are you even doing

If someone tells you to block and denounce people from the oppressed group you're supporting, your first reaction should be "are you a cop?", not "yes, I'll do this unquestioningly, and you're an awful person if you don't too"

Not that it's above criticism, it's not, but I feel your Met Gala take should at least acknowledge it's a fundraiser for an art museum with pay-what-you-want admission instead of vaguely presenting it as as if it's an event where everyone goes to dump their money in Scrooge McDuck pits and jump around in it

[riceybaby]

all about you #4 🤍 - spill your guts or fill your guts

synopsis: a game on a late night talk show leads to the world finding out a little more about you and mason

notes: italics indicate a flashback

“If I get asked about him I’m gonna scream the studio down”

You’re sat on the floor next to Lia, who’s in the middle of a slight mental breakdown it’s safe to say. The five of you are scheduled to appear on the Late Late Show with James Corden later this evening for a one off show in London, but one of the showrunners had just been to your dressing room to tell you the games you were going to play had changed; rather than doing some singing game like you had planned, you were now going to play Spill Your Guts, Or Fill Your Guts, which was just about everyone’s worse nightmare.

She was fresh of a breakup from a famous actor, and all anyone wanted to know was of how it went down. While Greg called it ‘perfect timing’, Lia called it ‘the most awful thing to ever have happened to her’ (although the tabloids somehow translated that to ‘woman can’t hold down a relationship, there must be something wrong with her’, Taylor Swift style).

“Babe, it’s fine. You know what, you probably are gonna get asked about him. But one - you don’t have to answer, and two - if there’s one thing I can bet on more than you being asked about him, it’s me being asked about Mason, so don’t worry we’re in it together.”

Mason. Greg sure as hell wasn’t lying when he said the two of you would be dynamite for the tabloids. It had been just two days since your staged dates and everyone had fell for it quicker than lightning. On every newsstand you walked past, every Instagram post you saw, every tiktok you scrolled upon was of those two now infamous shots of you making out outside a restaurant. Everyone was lapping it up and just wanted to know, what were the two of you going to do next. The pressure had been put off Mason and his club drama, and instead people were invasively interested in his love life, which was exactly what you were aiming for. And for you? It was like kaleidoscopes of rumours were booming around you, from how many songs about him were going to be on the new album, to if you had already wrote another one about him.

As Lia nods and takes a shaky sip of water, the showrunner pops his head back through the door. “Girls, you’re on in 5.”

——————

“Ok! Let’s see what we’ve got here” James says, spinning round a table of foods that just looking at wanted to make you throw up. “We’ve got cows tongue, bull penis, blood jelly whatever that is, bird saliva, hot sauce, beetle juice, and fish eyes.” A groan from the audience matches your own thoughts, however you had watched this segment before and knew there was a very high chance the questions would lead to you eating some of these foods.

“Ok Ellie you’re up first. So Rory do you want to pick a food to ruin the friendship with.”

“Hahah, I think cows tongue is the least worse one so I’ll be nice and give you that babe.”

Ellie’s face is green, and you can’t blame her. All you want to do is hear her question to know just how bad these are going to be.

“Ok Ells,” Rory says, chuckling when she reads the question, “is it the rumour that you hooked up with Andrew Garfield at last years Met Gala true?”

The other four of you let out laughs upon hearing that too, finding the rumour ludicrous when you knew that Ellie in fact spent the whole of the event going round and finding all the free champagne flutes she could find.

“No! No it’s not. I mean I would have loved it was was, but it’s not. So does this mean I don’t have to eat..that?”

A few more rounds take place, causing Lia to eat a fish eye instead of answering if she has spoken to her ex recently, Rory downed the hot sauce instead of telling who the rudest celebrity she’s ever met was, and Lottie spilled that the place she and Reece most recently had sex was the back of his car after training. Well, they’ve gone through everyone else, so it must be your turn.

“I’m sorry Y/N” Lottie laughs, spinning the table round to the bird saliva, “I think this should be good”

“There’s no way in hell I am drinking that. How do they even get it?”

However as she goes to answer, Lottie falls silent, gives you a look as if to say ‘good luck’ and then reads the question. “How serious is your relationship with footballer Mason Mount?”

Well fuck. You’re an awful liar, everyone knows it. You’re a musician, not an actress. But it’s time to put on your best performance.

“I mean, we’ve obviously been on a couple of dates as the entire world has seen it seems like” you give a shy laugh as you say this, carefully calculating the next answer you may have to give.

“No trying to squirm away from the question Y/N” James says, giving you a smirk. PR relationships are well known within the industry and it’s clear he already has his suspicions too. “So those two dates, the first one was a double date with you right Lottie?”

“Yep” she nods.

“Ok so what happened there.”

“Mason, Y/N. Y/N, Mason.” Reece says, pointing between the two of you. You’ve been told by your publicists that all you needed to do was order a drink, and then have the four of you seen walking outside. You were told this was more of a ‘warm up’ before tomorrow night, when you would truly have to be on a date alone with Mason. Reece gets up with Lottie to get their drinks, leaving the two of you alone.

“So uh, hi.” you mumble, not entirely sure what to do. Do you act like you’re in a relationship, or do you only do that when you can feel the incessant flashing of a camera lurking somewhere nearby?

“Hey” he chuckles, flashing you that smile you’ve thought about maybe one time too many since to say it was professional. “Can I get you a drink?” he hands you the menu.

“No no don’t worry, I can get it”

“Well if I’m gonna act as your boyfriend I might as well play the part, right?”

“Alright then, I’ll have a sex on the beach please”

“One sex on the beach coming up” he winks at you, getting up from his seat and walking over to the bar. You hate the way he makes you feel, while yes everyone else is supposed to believe you’re madly in love, this is a strictly professional act you have going on but all you want to do is let him take you to the backseat of his car and have you in any way he desire.

You see the paparazzi in the bushes lingering, getting every shot and angle they possibly can from outside the building. The four of you get along like a house on fire, spending the rest of the evening telling stories about each other’s partners that no one else would have ever heard. After a couple of hours of eating and chatting, you figure you must have given the media the first sparks to ignite the wildfire of attention that’s about to come your way. You all make your way outside, hugging goodbye to your friends leaving you and Mason stood in a bubble of awkwardness and heart-pounding nerves.

“So? Same time tomorrow?” he jokes, knowing full well the two of you were already scheduled to repeat tonight tomorrow.

“Can’t wait loverboy” you tease, gaining a laugh out of him. It was different to the rest you had heard so far that evening, a shyer tone masking the rose coloured haze fogging his brain.

“Well I um, I guess I should be going. I’ll pick you up at 8 tomorrow?” He put his hand on your head at this, toying with the cameras but also was using this as an excuse to touch the hair you had nervously been twirling all night.

“See you then Mount”

“You know, the four of us just went out for dinner. We had a meal and drinks, a really good time.”

“Aw that’s lovely! Isn’t that lovely?” James says, more to the crowd than you, “and what about the second one?”

“He’s gonna be here in a minute”

You’re on the phone to Ellie, applying the last coat of lip gloss you can before Mason is supposed to arrive. Tonight you were going to a very fancy restaurant, and so you had dressed up to the nine’s. Your hair was curled, and you opted for a gorgeous little black dress, one that perfectly highlighted every one of your favourite aspects of your body.

“So what’s he like?”

Absolutely fucking perfect. And you had spent only three hours with him. You kept telling yourself that you couldn’t let yourself get involved with him; you’re not over your ex yet and plus, Mason’s not interested in you! He’s only in this for his personal gain, just like how you were supposed to be. But you couldn’t deny the way his eyes on you made you feel, like he had you wrapped around his fingers on strings making you want to say and do things a week ago you would have never dreamed of.

“Yeah he’s nice, very gentlemanly.” You were about to explain the way he had opened your car door for you the night before and given you a kiss on the cheek, but your doorbell started ringing.

“Oh he’s here, gotta go Ells, speak to you tomorrow”

“Bye lovey”

You quickly make your way downstairs, giving yourself one last look in the mirror to make sure you were looking your best before opening the door. There he was, stood in black trousers and a white shirt, leaning on the doorframe. In his hand were a bunch of red roses, ones you could tell just have been outrageously expensive.

“There’s no cameras around now you know, you didn’t have to bring me these”

“I know I just wanted to” he says, giving them to you with a hopeful grin, “I thought they would go well in your kitchen from that picture you showed me last night. If it’s weird then I can take them back or-“

“No, no that’s really sweet, thank you”

“No worries. Ready to go?”

The two of you get in his car, making small talk about how you were going to make this performance believable. You decided to discuss what you were both ok with, settling with that you would cuddle in the booth, kissing on the forehead at most, and then you’d have your big kiss moment outside after the meal. He pulls up outside, parks his car and turns to face you. “Let’s go make you the most talked about topic in the world.”

It’s killing you that he’s doing everything right. He holds open the door for you on the way in, pulls out your chair for you and tucks you into the table, orders your drink for you. Although you have to keep reminding yourself it’s all an act. You know he has to come across as the best boyfriend ever, and that’s what he’s doing. But for god’s sake is he good at it. Little do you know it’s not an act at all, he’s just genuinely lovely and chivalrous and from his perspective, if he’s going to have to go along with this lie he might as well be the best fake boyfriend you’ve ever had.

After having scanned the menu for what felt like forever, you just cant’t decide between two meals. On one hand you are desperate to try the pasta special, and on the other you really wanted the steak. “I tell you what” he says, locking eyes with you “you get the pasta, I’ll get the steak and then we can split it between us.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal there Mount”

“Are you ever gonna call me Mason? Or is it always gonna be Mount with you, Y/L/N”

Your hands come to rest under your chin as you give him your proposition. “You make this the best fake date I’ve ever had, and then I’ll call you Mason”

He looks at you, eyes sparkling brown and crinkled, his grin so sickly sweet you can feel yourself melting just looking at it. “You’ve got yourself a deal there Y/L/N.”

The two of you spend your time waiting for your food getting to know each other, you finding out the story of the time him and his best friend Declan got lost in the middle of the sea in Dubai, while he would end the night being able to name all your family members and your favourite memories of them. He well and truly was charming the socks off you.

“Your pasta?” The waiter has come along with your food, placing the two meals in front of you both. Immediately you get stuck in, but are met with a bitter disappointment when the idea of the pasta ends up being miles away from the actual taste. As much as you try to pretend you’re liking it, the grimace on your face doesn’t go unnoticed by Mason.

“Hey, don’t worry I’ll just have that, you have the steak” he says, putting his half of the meat on your plate and taking your pasta for himself.

“No you wanted the steak too it’s fine I can just eat half”

He shakes his head at you, letting you know that while he doesn’t want to be pushy, you’re not going to win your first argument as faux boyfriend and girlfriend. “Enjoy your steak” he laughs.

The complete nonchalance with which he swapped your food, even though you could tell he didn’t enjoy the pasta all that much either made your heart pound a little faster than it already was. “Thank you” you almost whisper, hoping the genuine nature of your words shone through. After more eating and laughing, an alert pops up on his phone, and you notice the little girl he has as his lockscreen.

“Who’s that?” you point down, showing him you meant the picture and not the message.

“That’s my niece, Summer.” His entire face lights up like you haven’t seen before, the sparkle that was in his eyes earlier now illuminating. “She’s the sweetest little thing”

“You seem to really love her”

“Yeah, she’s the best” he chuckles, “I set up an Easter egg hunt for her the other day, and she was so excited running around dressed up as a little bunny, her face when she found the eggs was just hilarious.” You let him ramble on a little more about her, becoming slightly infatuated with the way you could radiate his love for her in every word he said, it was clear he was a family boy.

Before you know it it’s 10pm, and you know you need to be seen kissing soon before the paparazzi get bored and leave. Despite your protests, Mason pays the full cheque for you both saying that it was nothing.

“So how do you wanna do this?” he asks, moving his body closer to yours. You place your hand on the back of his neck, slowly playing with the hairs on the back of his head. “Don’t make me ask you to kiss me, Mount.”

And with that, he leans in. The moment his lips touch yours it’s like the sparks have exploded into electricity running up your spine. He’s rougher than you expected, moulding yourselves together with more force than you knew he would be willing to. His tongue licks your bottom lip, the two of you giggling into each other like teenagers as his tongue meets yours, sucking it once or twice so he can hear that noise again. His right arm comes round your head to meet the right side of your face, until you physically cannot be any closer. You keep at it for the next couple of seconds, stopping only once he’s stolen all the air from your lungs.

“Was that a good enough show for them?” he croakily huffs, slightly out of breath.

“It was perfect, Mason”

“Was that a Mason I heard?”

“It just might have been” you say, sticking out your tongue at him as you make your way to the car.

“I don’t know what to say! We went out and had a really good time and he means a lot to me.”

“And was that date with..your boyfriend?” James asks, pushing you to label it for everyone.

“Quite possibly” you lure, sipping on the straw of the drink placed next to you to distract you from the cheers of the audience. So there it was. To the world, you and Mason Mount were officially boyfriend and girlfriend, and it was only about to get crazier.

[oneoftheprettynerds]

Belle Of The Ball: Dark! King! Steve Rogers x Reader

A/N: So this my first ever proper dark fic and I’m so nervous. I finished it but my mind thinks it’s garbage. so I’m gonna post this now when I’m feeling a random spurt of courage and am confident in my work. So here’s my masterpiece, cookies.

This is for Dark!MCU  Festive Fic swap hosted by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor  and @darkmcuficswap

My giftee is @hermesmaximoff Hope you enjoy it love!

Thanking @firefly-graphics for the dividers: both personalised and general.

There is also an amateur somewhat okay shitty poster I decided to make which is included at the end.  

WARNING: THIS IS A DARK FIC CONTAINING DUBIOUS CONSENT BORDERING NON-CON AND EXPLICIT SMUT. YOUR MEDIA CONSUMPTION IS YOUR RESPONSIBILITY. LOSS OF VIRGINITY, ABUSE OF AUTHORITY, BREEDING KINK ALSO PRESENT.

Summary: Invited to the Royal ball by the benevolent monarch, you could barely control your excitement to visit the Capital. While you were busy admiring his prosperous reign, King Steve was quite occupied getting enamoured by you. As you try to fulfil the King’s demands, secrets find their way out.

CHARACTERS + GENRE: DARK!STEVE ROGERS X READER, SUPERNATURAL STEVE ROGERS X READER (read to find out what), ROYAL AU, HALLOWEEN THEME (I tried for the request, hope you do like it)

King Steve Rogers invites the princes and the princesses of all Kingdoms, near and afar,

To celebrate his several years of reign.

He requests thy kind and noble presence

At the joyous regale

of his auspicious ball

On the thirty first of October,

after sundown, in His Majesty’s finest castle.

Challenging thy with the unique theme of

A Halloween Masquerade Ball,

The King expects exceptional indulgence from all.

 The Most Grandiose Halloween Celebration is being organised with the spookiest of events within.

Come here if you dare.

“We have been invited to a royal party! My day couldn’t have been better!” Your elder sister exclaimed, jumping quite unladylike in your chambers, as you went through the details of the venue. You chuckled at her antics, knowing rather well that she would be scolded if someone else was present. 

“Emma, Mother has to approve first. As Lady Ava always says, don’t count your chickens before they hatch.”

“As if mother would really decline an invite from the King, dear sister.” She rolled her eyes at you, not letting her enthusiasm die as you pondered over her words.

Your sister had a point though, the King summoning your presence was not to be taken lightly. The invitation came up handwritten in a scroll with the King’s wax seal atop it. It was placed elegantly beside a golden mask in a rectangular black box, that bore the Majesty’s sigil on the front.  

The theme of the ball wasn’t that peculiar if you reflected over it, the renowned monarch was also recognised for his distinct interest in eerie, unearthly beings. He was known for adventuring into haunted lands, mysterious manors and sinister soils, meeting up with people rumoured to be sorcerers and occultists.

Of course, the reason for his encounters was sometimes rumoured to be because of his familial distress, how he couldn’t find a mate to procreate with and conceive his own heir no matter what. Three females, who were pregnant with a progeny of his blood, none his wife though, had died during the first two or tercet months, reason unspecified why.  

Coming to You, you and your sister weren’t actual princesses, rather the daughters of one of the esteemed Ministers in the King’s cabinet. The benevolent King, however referred to the daughters of the town, more exactly, the Kingdom, as noblewomen. He held high reverence for the females and was the sole creditor to the improved condition of the women in this era. No matter how troubled his own life was, the King was the most merciful royal to be crowned to date, his people prospering under him.

Your sister nodded eagerly to your mother, drinking in her words like the fine tea you all had in the afternoons, while you just smiled at her advice.

 When you both met your mother for dinner, you were surprised to find her already informed about the invitation. Her conformity to the celebration astonished you even more, but Emma’s zeal was starting to rub off on you too by the end of the meal. 

Your mother continued, “Your father mentioned The Majesty is looking for a wife, quite possibly. He has been insistent in trying to get a successor the correct way this time, by courting the lady who piques his interest. Even though this might be a rumour, or some gossip spun by the ladies of the Cabinet, you both should try your best to be graceful and presentable. Among the hundreds of guests, he’d be having over, on the off-chance, if Gods allow, that either of you manages to entice him, it will only promise you the most pleasant of all forthcomings. It would also do me and your father some good, if you managed to find some other suitable bachelor, from a nice background to engage with.”

Your sister had always been one with the more overactive imagination out of you two, while you had been the more serene and poised one. When she’d be out playing with the children in your town, you’d be talking to the younger toddlers, drawing with chalks on the side. For every kid she splashed with water in the nearby sapphire river, you made tots flower crowns. These were the values you both grew up with, and these will be the values you’d die with.

After days of shopping velvet fabrics and silk textiles, and bothering your seamster to make sophisticated and stylish dresses, you both neared your day of departure. After some instructions to you both to represent your father and town well, your mother bid you adieu. It was nerve wracking to not have your mother by your side, for an event as big as this was, but since you both had passed more than twenty name days, you were expected to be proper, independent ladies. 

With a heavy heart and some self, positive affirmations, you and your sister embarked on the voyage, which was filled with her chitchat.

You only hoped that the gala was as exciting as your family made it out to be. That it was just a King trying to celebrate his sovereign with some western festival integrated together. That the event would not be as unnerving and creepy as the last line of his invitation made it out to be. 

For some unknown cause, it did not sit well with you. Your apprehensive intuition made you wary of the invitation for some reason, but you let your sibling’s zest take you over. What benefit would fretting get you?

The ball was far more pompous than anything you’d have imagined in your little head. All the ideas that Emma had come up with during your journey, to anticipate the extent of extravagance for the ball, were all exceeded with tenfold finesse. You had travelled to faraway, distant lands with your parents, but the King’s mansion, with all the festivity happening, was truly a sight to behold.

Entering The Capital had been the highlight of your excursion, you were sure earlier, but well you were proved wrong. Your father greeted you both when you had arrived, eager to see his angels after almost six moons, and had ensured you both got the best of the accommodations in the well-built, enormous fort. He introduced you to several of his comrades as well as their brooding, young lads and then, left you both to rest for the main event next eve. With two maids at your every beck and call, courtesy of your father, your time went smoothly and now you found yourself at the said Halloween themed celebration, staring around in awe of every little detail that had been so meticulously handled to make the event as dazzling as it was.

The servants were dressed rather ridiculously as cats, wearing some bizarre structure resembling cat ears, horribly short black dresses barely past their thighs and some whiskers draw using either coal or makeup, you weren’t sure. It was a poor attempt to make them appear feline. However, the food was as immaculate as everything else, entirely themed like only blood red wine, candied apples, chicken pumpkins, cheesecake brain, mummy muffins, some appetizer with bell peppers as jack-o-lanterns; these were the few that met your sights.

The hall was so grand, almost the size of three jousting arenas and playing fields combined with pillars having detailed architecture supporting the place. The walls were covered in scarlet, golden and black velvet drapes, the royal colours, and beautiful masquerade masks were pinned atop them, along the walls. Almost hundred round, white clothed tables filled the ballroom, with gold plated candlesticks and utensils upon them. The entire place had entertainers progressing around, the essence of it being magicians, clowns, contortionists, palm and tarot card readers. 

In the centre of the hall, was an empty space, reserved for the soon to be ensuing dancing. An orchestra on the side had beautiful instruments, playing soft melodies for now, reserving the upscale beats for later.

You had only read a few books on Halloween to be prepared but nothing could have geared you up for this. Your small-town self was gaping at everything with a childlike wonder while somehow your sister was quite composed and calm, somehow your roles had been reversed. 

Emma was wearing a blue gown, having several layers of nets and cloth, each a different shade of azure. She tried to dress as the mythical creature called mermaid, with crystal heels and a beaded neckline. Her masquerade mask had scales like fish, made using shining sequins. She looked so gorgeous, truly managing to look captivating.

You on the other hand were dressed like an angel, which you were against, finding it too mainstream and typical and wanted to dress like an enchantress with violet and jade colours, which your mother immediately negated. On demand of your sister, she let you wear a fluffy white ball gown, and had you made wings with dove feathers, an apparatus which was astonishingly light to wear. Using her art and craft skills, Emma made you a headband with two wires attached to a metal ring, shaped like an angel’s halo. The loop at top made of some special metal that glowed golden in the dark, making it look like a real, floating halo. Your mask had a fur lining on it, and silver sparkles were sprinkled all over you, with pretty makeup on your face, courtesy of your sibling.

The change in music brought you out of your reverie, as trumpets and harps began to hum, signifying the arrival of the King on the grand staircase. He had a crimson red velvet cape descending his broad shoulders, his tuxedo underneath could hide neither his long legs nor his bulging, protruding biceps. His black, shining shoes cost more than your entire apparel, you were certain. 

As your gaze ascended his masculine form, you were mesmerised furthermore with his high cheekbones, full lips tainted cherry pink, a Grecian slanting nose, sleek eyebrows, luscious blonde hair, a thick beard and the best of all yet, cerulean blue eyes, the prettiest you’d ever seen in the entirety of your small life. The ladies beside you, Emma included, had the same reaction whether they had witnessed his Highness before or not. Every female’s gaze seemed to flicker between his azure eyes and the Golden crown resting atop his blonde locks, flooded with rubies and emeralds and gemstones you weren’t sure your books had.

For a moment you felt his eyes land on you, which surprised you even more so, that you questioned yourself about it, but his cheeky grin and wink confirmed it, make you shiver involuntarily as heat spread through your face while a titillating stir ran through you, a first for you. His impeccably white teeth were clearly visible now, showing two elongated canines, which finally gave you a sense of his attire, paired with his blush lips, A Vampire.

He spoke a few words, eyes unsteadily wavering, observing different members of the gathering. He let the dances commence, partnering with his most suitable match at the festivity, the daughter of the wealthiest lord. After the first song was over, other couples joined alongside him while you stood at the side, observing everything. Only mere moments ago had your sister been courted by a young man, the two of them shooting each other coy glances since they had entered. 

A tap on your shoulder had you puzzled, you turned around focus landing on warm, brown eyes. You recalled him to be Lord Stark’s son, Peter, having met him yesterday at dawn. His familiar brown eyes gave you sense of comfort, which you liked, not being alongside Emma now.

“Shall we?” He asked, his cheeks ruby like yours were, as he extended the palm of his hand towards you. You giggled, smiling like a little babe who got extra cookies for dessert, and accepted his hand. Sauntering to the dancing arena, you only prayed to The Heavens above that Lady Ava taught you enough to embarrass neither yourself nor your guild.

Tracing his steps and following his lead, you did manage to dance without falling, which was a surprise seeing how spread out your wings were. You and him made easy conversation, about your hometowns and interests.  You saw your Father proudly looking at you and Emma, dancing with lads, you guessed, he approved of.

As the song ended and the orchestra played a transitioning tune between the melodies, a cough sounded beside you as you and Peter stopped. Your eyes widened as you nervously curtsied beside Peter, A ‘Your Majesty” falling from both your lips.

“If it’s not too much trouble, may I share a dance with the most stunning dame here?” 

Peter politely stepped back, letting go of your waist, as The King’s wide stature more than filled his place. Your heart was beating rather loudly, blood pumping to your ears as you tried to make sense of what was happening. In your peripheral vision you could see the prying eyes of others looking at you both, ready to criticize you for one wrong move. Your father watched intently, a slight warning in his eyes to not mess this opportunity up while your sister comfortingly smiled at you. You tried to even your breaths and make sense of what he was saying, to not just stand and gape like a fool in court.

As the harmony played out, he swayed you around, lifting you up and twirling you around. Compliments spewed out from his lips, making you crimson like freshly ripened apples. You couldn’t keep up with your expression of gratitude through your words as he admired your eyes, your elegance and your ensemble which just couldn’t make him shift his eyes from you. 

After two songs had played out, he left as suddenly as he had come, with a promise to meet you later. You watched him dance with other maidens, who approached him when you were dancing together, entertaining every approaching lady like an excellent host.

You made your way to the side, hoping to get some liquor, or at least some fluid in your veins and not faint right there this moment. Emma came up beside you while you were having wine, and rubbed your back in a parental way. Her eyes communicated her understanding of how overwhelmed you felt at the instant. Her date and Peter soon came and kept you both company for the rest of the night. As duos danced and people got intoxicated, you had to call it a night on behalf of your sister, her incessant giggling make you worried for her inebriated self. 

You slipped her out before your father caught her and gave her a stern talking to and tucked her in her bed keeping a glass of water and some fresh fruits for her on the bedside wooden bench. You concluded retiring for the night yourself but only after assuring your father of your whereabouts and well beings. Before returning to the hall, you took off your wings and the halo, also opting to leave the mask behind as the fur tickled your skin. Your makeup hadn’t ruined in the heat of the hall, it was a miracle. You made your way to the Hall, hoping to find your father, assumingly drunk with all his entourage.

Two hallways before the decorated ballroom were you pinned to the wall, one hand of your attacker covering your parted lips while the other held your face delicately, with a lover’s touch. A split second was all it took for you to be immobilised by this man and another by your wavering form to recognise the cobalt blue eyes and blonde curls. When The King was certain you wouldn’t scream, his hand left your mouth slid upwards, mirroring his other hand, with thumbs in front of your ears and palms resting on your cheeks.

“Your Majesty?” You mumbled back, your voice somehow even lower, afraid for yourself and even more so terrified to offend him.

“Say, would you come for a while to my chambers, the view of the creek from my balcony is splendid.”

His choice of words gave you an option, but his eyes, almost hypnotically told you there was only one correct answer.

“You are the one, I can feel it.” He whispered lowly but your heightened senses gladly picked it up.

You meekly nodded, your inner self surprised at your body moving of its accord alongside him, as your mind started voiding of thoughts like reporting to your father, checking up on Emma. You felt like you were trapped in someone else’s form and fought with an invisible force to take over the reins of your own body.

You did not fail to notice the lack of guards outside the King’s chamber and how every entrance managed to open itself. The King wasn’t lying about the picturesque scene though, as you stood in the balcony, hair getting ruffled by the strong breeze that seemingly came from nowhere.

Your body stiffened as King Steve came uncharacteristically close to you and slid his hands around your middle, his nose nestled in your locks, inhaling deeply.

His lips descended your neck, laying feathery kisses on his path as you stood there, unable to even move your hands or turn around. This out of body sensation was broken when you felt intense pain on piercing of your skin where your head met your torso. You suddenly gained all wits and enough strength to flail your limbs around but all your might wasn’t enough to even stir the man from his task. Your throat couldn’t gather enough energy to scream, though you doubted anyone would come. You started getting light headed and only then did he stop, carrying you in his arms to his widespread four poster bed, mattress as soft as sponge and sheets as silky as butter. Too weak to fight him off, you harvested all your energy in staying conscious as your gaze danced around, trying to make sense of every object present but not awake enough to notice too many details. The wine you drank did not make it any better.

As you laid on the stranger’s bed, you felt his body sit beside you, holding your neck; leaning down, his lips meeting yours for the first time. You did not reciprocate, neither did you have the strength nor the will, while his tongue slipped inside your mouth, roaming around like a traveller in foreign land.

As the kiss drew on, you felt some energy sidle inside you, enough for your mind to function again but not ample enough to fight off the brawny thief who robbed you of your first kiss. King Steve broke off the kiss and connected your foreheads together, his indigo eyes turning black in want, leaving you a frightening and gasping mess.

He backed away, sitting more straighter now as his hand drew back from around your neck and slid along your stomach, nearing the most intimate part of your body, even though there were still layers of cloth present. His hands did not stop there, however, and made their way downwards only stopping at the hem of your gown and slipping inside.

You shrieked out suddenly, becoming aware of his intentions quite late and grasped his wrist that rested now on your knee. 

“Your Majesty, I……I can’t-”

“Do you wish to refuse your King?”

You looked down, caught in the dilemma of wanting your safety and offending him once again. Your virtue had to be preserved till marriage, your mother had taught you, but on the other hand, the King’s words were the law.

“Answer Me.” The King’s cold voice broke through your thoughts, not a shout but still scarier than a yell.“

Your Majesty, I’ve never engaged in s-” You started tearing up, lower lip wobbling and body shaking at the thought of the future. You did not see this ending beneficial in any scenario. If you lost your virtue, you would never get wed but if you refused the King and he felt insulted, your family and your connections would be in the ruins, he held that much power over you.

Cradling your face with his other hand, he began again, “You think I’m not already aware, pretty one?” The man who was reprimanding you only few moments ago upon not answering him, had a smile on his face this time: not assuring or comforting, but malicious and sinister to its very core. “I could smell your untainted scent from my room, before even descending the stairs.”

“Your e-eyes..” You gaped again as colours morphed in his eyes, red now swirling around in the pools of darkness, his words lost on you as you felt your fear rising due to the inhumane action.

“For an intellectual, bibliophilic girl, you sure are oblivious, sweetheart.” He scoffed, looking unimpressed at you, “Come on, prove to me you aren’t heedless like the rest, draw the conclusion." His eyes held yours, again altering into hues of different colours, seemingly mocking you now. 

You don’t know how the thought jumped into your head, maybe because the two holes on your neck stung suddenly or because the automatically opening doors entered your mind, the contemplation that his fangs appeared so realistic and authentic the more you stared at them paired with the blood on his collar, not just the fresh red stain of your plasma but also the burgundy stain present there, giving his lips the cherry red shade you admired hours ago on his arrival at the event.

“This is not a co-costume, no-” You inhaled a quick breath, “you are a vampire.” Your face paled in realisation while he smirked proudly, tapping your knee in a weird, twisted form of appreciation.

“Tremendous, my dear. But only half, you see. My mother was one, yes, but my father, he gave me an even better ability, he was an Incubus.” You shuddered as the words sunk in, your only worry being staying alive now, when your life was in the hands of this sex demon, having the greatest of powers and strength. Your mind did not spend any time mulling over the existence of supernatural beings, only dwelling on possible escapes now.

“That is why even your untouched body couldn’t help but react to my form and it is also the very reason, that I can read what goes on in your mind, all your memories, your hobbies, every book you’ve read, your precious sister, Emma isn’t it? So please, do not even think about fleeing if you don’t want your family to suffer.”

The threat loomed in the air, nasty sobs wracking your body as his thumb came to wipe the tears off. His hands started undoing the lace on the front of your bodice as you sniffled. Managing to quieten down just a bit, you begged, “Please don’t do this, I’ll have nowhere to go if my family found about me partaking in this unholy deed before marriage.” You had little hope about him seeing reason but there was optimism nonetheless. 

“Darling, do not fuss that I’ll leave you unhinged and deserted after finding pleasure in your body, you are to be mine now. Essentially, you already are.” His lips claimed yours again as the front of your dress slackened, bundling around your waist.

You pulled back, surprised at his promise, “You mean that?” He nodded, coming to kiss you again. You turned so that his lips met your neck, tongue licking the salt residue of tears there. “In what sense?”

“In every sense you could think of and more. I’ll give you everything, make you my queen, would you like that?” He mumbled in your neck, tongue now soothing the two punctured cavities residing there.

You could feel yourself crossing your legs involuntarily, trying to caress the abrupt yearning in your intimate part, your underclothes dousing with wetness somehow. Steve smirked in your neck, sitting upright and playing his trump card.

“I’ll marry you and we’ll rule together with the plenty of successors you’ll give me. Won’t that make your parents proud? Isn’t that what your parents taught you? Catch the King’s eye?” You meekly nodded, his charisma of an Incubus winning you over. “I’ll make your father The King’s Hand and send your mother the finest of jewels and gems, satins and silks.” He looked over at your submissive form, looking at him with the innocence of a toddler, swayed by his promises.

“I’ll let your sister have a grand wedding with the man she dears. All you have to do is surrender yourself to me and be my Queen, rule alongside me. So I ask, will you?” You cut him off, your lips pressing against his as you tried to mimic his earlier movements. He held your waist, surprised but pleasantly so, crushing the layers of the rolled top half of your dress underneath his hands. You had very little idea about what bedding someone meant but you had this primal urge to not have any skin of yours covered or untouched by him.

Steve shed his cape and threw every cloth on his torso away, almost as eager as you to get skin to skin contact. Your hands tangled in his hair as he lifted you up and sat you in his broad lap, not before sliding your dress all the way down. As he broke the kiss and took in your body, parts of you hidden under the smallclothes, he let out a growl that frightened yet excited you with another shiver down your spine. 

He made quick work of his bottoms, his cock standing and reaching his muscled chest almost and you gaped. Your sister, Emma had informed you of men’s parts being far much smaller than what you had just witnessed. His member stood erect and proud, glistening as he pumped it with his fist. His eyes drank in your surprise and trepidation, getting amused and turned on even more. 

You still laid stretched across the bed, legs straight ahead of you while your torso rested on your elbows, eyes wary of his every next movement.  He eyed your scantily clad body, gaze filled with lust and nothing more and climbed between your legs, one hand coming down on your waist while the other grabbed the back of your head and pulled you into a possessive kiss, robbing you of your breath. Your mind was slowly registering the reality of it all, this was going to happen no matter what. You were going to sin by engaging in fornication. But is it really wrong if your benevolent king demands that of you?

His hand sliding from your face to your bosom distracted you from your chain of thoughts. He slid the cups of your garment revealing your nipples and took one in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it while his other pinched the abandoned one. You didn’t know if you should be more surprised at his actions or the rush of the feelings that ran through you.

He slowly released your nipple and trailed soft kisses down your stomach to your most intimate part yet, kissing it through the cloth there. His delicate touch was abruptly contrasted with him grabbing the fabric, tearing it into two and revealing you bare. 

You closed your legs out of instinct but his heavily muscled hand took them apart in a single push. He eyed you with a warning, to not obstruct him anyhow anymore.

“Let me taste that sweet nectar of yours, sweetheart. I really want to find out if it is as addictive as my senses picked it up, as sweet as the aura that surrounds you.”

And with that he dove into your pussy, his tongue roaming your wet cavern. Neither did you understand what he spoke of nor had you sister told you about the activity happening right now. But all you could do was focus on the astonishingly pleasant shivers running through you as you had an out of the body, more accurately an out of the world experience. You had no sense of the time that passed and how long you laid there clutching the silk sheets letting out mewls. But out of nowhere, something in you snapped and all your energy left you. 

As your blurry vision cleared and your eyes found his face, he licked his still glistening lips, his beard moist and wet but erotically so. He dove right into kiss again and you tasted your own sweet nectar for the first time ever. His hand roamed your body, grabbing your curves and caressing your soft flesh. 

One of his hands made its way down furthermore and spread your fluids along your folds, and then lined up himself along your hole. With a sudden push, you felt yourself being full like never before, and a sudden pain hit you as your face visibly flinched. Steve swallowed your grunts of pain with his kisses and started rubbing your bud above your linked bodies. 

The shudder that ran through you once again made you incapable of thinking, the ache slowly subsiding behind the pleasure you felt. When your moans filled the air, Steve kissed your collarbones and sucked leaving bruises there, and started thrusting again. As his movements became faster and consistent, and his callused hands rubbed you and pinched your intimate flesh, you ascended to another world. Each action of his introduced you to a new star in the wide galaxy. The same unknown descended upon you again as something snapped in your abdomen and you experienced pure bliss. 

“Going to make you the mother of my children, you will carry my seed and bring the Kingdom several heirs. This time I’ll succeed, you will be mine, my Queen in every sense.” His words made you clench around him and that was all it took for him to achieve ecstasy as well.

Your head lolled and your eyes met his sweating frame lying across the silk sheets as a sinister grin adorned his face again, “I need to fuck a successor into you tonight, you ready?”  

[prettysurethatsakidney]

Wow just wow first on my other socials I post non stop about Palestine Sudan Congo etc etc but I don’t post as much here since I don’t exactly understand how tumbler works all that well and “white feminist” is a term people use to describe a type of feminist who only focuses on the western world they live in or even just the country also my post isn’t misogynistic literally didn’t say anything that isn’t true it’s not my fault that Taylor Swift isn’t a perfect idol

second I don’t have the money to pay for people’s legal fees I couldn’t even afford to bring my own rape to court I’m not a billionaire I’m dirt poor but Taylor Swift is a literal billionaire and has such a huge influence I’m not hating on her I’m just saying if she calls herself a feminist she should probably “prove” it by doing something or at the very least saying something about women who aren’t in the western world

And thirdly I do try I try my best I do as much charity work as I can I volunteer when and where I can I just don’t post it on my socials cause then it just feels superficial and I’m not denying that Taylor Swift has done good things she has she’s done a lot of work more then other celebrities all I’m saying is that if Taylor Swift spoke up or shown support of women in Palestine Congo and Sudan there would be so many more people speaking about it Taylor Swift had a big influence idk if y’all remember but when Taylor Swift posted about the election a few years ago telling people to vote there was hundreds of new registered voters she has done good but with her money and her privilege she could do so much more

Fourth am not holding Taylor Swift responsible for fucking world peace that’s ridiculous please use your media literacy skills I’m just saying when you have such a big platform saying something can make a big change also by your logic non of us should do anything since we aren’t responsible for role peace like we all have to do our bit it’s not all on one person

Also your just extremely rude like all those insults are so unnecessary idk why we can’t just have a civil debate without name calling like we’re not in play school anymore we can be respectful and talk

I just think that if you have a platform you need to speak up about injustice like tbh (and this part goes for all billionaires or rich celebrities) it feels like the hunger games these rich celebrities dressing all up for the met gala and all while children are literally being murdered and raped is dystopian im not saying Taylor Swift is an awful person and should be burnet at the stake I just thing she could do more with the platform that has been given to her

Also you said she’s don’t more feminist humanitarian work then I ever will I got two things to say to that one I’m not denying that she’s one good I’m just saying she’s a billionaire she has the money to do that while not a lot of us do and the and the other thing is this isn’t a competition of who’s done more good deeds these are real people with lives and families they have dreams and wants they have likes and dislikes t they are not a point in your good deeds competition they are actual people in need of support and help

Anyway please go donate and share the charity this person had linked as it helps pan African woman and girls go to school so they can go on to live good lives and be influential people in the future no one should have to miss out on an education

been thinking about this bc of the bit in the folklore speech about watching tv during the pandemic

let me know why or why not in the tags!

[sturchling]

Salt-Fic September Day 13: He Is Handsome, No, Hot!

Damian was planning on causing chaos at Marinette’s school. From what she had told him about what was happening at the school, he was sure it was full of idiots. He wanted to take down the liar that was the root of all the problems. Marinette had mentioned that this girl was nothing but a pathetic social climber, desperate for fame. That kind of person is the most hated of Damian’s life. But he knew the liar would not pass up the chance to try and date the Damian Wayne.

He arrived in Paris, making sure his presence was well known. For his plan to work, everyone, including the liar, had to know who he was. It worked and Lila quickly found out about the VIP’s arrival. She started crafting her stories, so she could make Damian fall for her. She knew that if she was on his arm, she would have fame, fortune, and anything else she desired.

 The next day at school, Lila anxiously awaited her first glimpse of the new student. No one had actually seen him before, the Waynes were notoriously private. No pictures of Damian had been posted online before. When he entered the class room, Lila was in awe. He is so handsome, no, he is so hot. She knew right then she had to make him her boyfriend.

 The plan started wonderfully. Lila was thrilled with how easy it was to trick Damian. A few honeyed words and he was putty in her hand. It was almost sad; she had expected more of a challenge. Soon they were going on dates and were the talk of the town. Lila was living the life she always dreamed of. She was becoming famous and had a rich boyfriend. Everyone was talking about her. And best of all, Damian hung off her every word about her ‘accomplishments’. What she didn’t know is that the more stories she told him; the worse things would be for her later.

Damian played the part of adoring boyfriend perfectly. When it was time, he invited Lila to a gala in Gotham. Lila was thrilled. She would spend all night chatting with the rich and famous. At the gala, Lila was having a fantastic time. She had met so many celebrities tonight that she would have so many new stories to tell the class. This time they would all be true.

 Towards the end of the night, Damian climbed the stage to speak. Lila thought that this would be some boring speech thanking the guests for coming, but she was surprised. “Everyone, I wanted to speak to you tonight about a wonderful girl. Her name is Lila Rossi. She is an incredibly kind girl who has already done so much for the world.” Damian went on to list Lila’s accomplishments. Lila grew more and more horrified. She watched as all the celebrities around her listen to the lies and quickly realized that she was losing everything.

  Everyone around her knew these were lies. She rushed to the stage to speak to Damian. “Please stop Damian. This is embarrassing.” Damian gets a cold look on his face that Lila hasn’t seen before. “Yeah, I’m sure having all your lies exposed is embarrassing. You shouldn’t have messed with Marinette. Once you threaten a friend of mine, you become my enemy. You should have been more careful.” Lila stood in shock as Damian revealed everything about her. He even filmed the exposure to make sure the class saw everything. Lila fled from the gala and hoped that the class wouldn’t believe what he had said, but they had believed everything.

 Lila had lost her control over the class quickly. She ended up transferring to a different school in the hopes that she could gain control of a new class. But the video from the gala had gone viral and everyone at her new school knew she was a liar. She never got the fame and fortune she wished for. Marinette was ecstatic that the liar was gone from her life. And she was thankful to Damian for enduring the liar and making her exposure happen.

Hope you guys liked it! @maribat-central-official

[strawberrielarrie]

Music Industry Stunts and why they happen

Stunts are a big part of the music industry, you may not know it, but they are.  The purpose of stunts is to push a certain narrative to the general public. Now this could mean many different things, PR relationship; coverups; or to peak the publics interest. Why? You may ask, why would the artist do this, why wouldn’t they just be truthful? Well, many don’t have a choice, the music industry is a place that I wish no one would have to be in, it is a cruel and awful place to be if you don’t know how to get around it, or if you don’t have the correct connections. In the past (and still now), many big brand music industries, such as Sony Music and Warner Music have controlled artists immensely.

George Michael

As a legend in the music industry, George Michael is a well-known name in the average household. From his time in the hit duo “Wham!”, Michael’s music was distributed through CBS, but in 1987 Sony took over and that’s when things went downhill. Michael reveled in the popularity of his hit album “Faith” in 1987, and so did Sony, because he was earning them money.

But that ended quickly with the news of his next album “Listen Without Prejudice” in 1990, Sony refused to promote the album and appear in the music videos for it. Michael in turn, disputed his contract with Sony, but he could not do close to anything, because Sony possessed the power of approval over everything that he put out. Meaning, George Michael could not release music without it going through the board of Sony, and if he did, he could get sued and fired.

(Sony is a whole other world of fucked up, they fucked MJ up so badly, Sony Kills)

During this whole time, George came clean, saying that the board of Sony, used many different homophobic slurs against him, and wouldn’t let him release any music that seemed to allude to the fact that he was gay.

George Michael brought Sony to court in 1993, claiming that between 1987-1992, he had made worldwide profits of £7.35 million ($9.8 million) compared to Sony making £52.45 million ($70 million). Ultimately, the case lasted till June 1994, and Michael had lost, the judge claiming that it was fair. Michael retaliated saying how Sony is “Professional Slavery”.

Suzanne Kessler, Entertainment attorney at Bone McAllester Norton and former in-house attorney at A&M Records and Universal Music Group stated, “There are two sides to this tale,” she said. “The music business is a relationship business, and he was uneasy with what was happening. A label often wants an artist to continue to trade on their established brand with the public. But after “Faith” Michael was trying for a new direction, to be taken more seriously as an artist instead of just as a pop star sex symbol.”

This brings me to my next point,

 Closeting in the Industry

(Now I could go on for day about closeting in the music industry, but I will only give you the basis and then I will link another post that goes further in depth.)

Closeting is not a rare thing in the music industry, it in fact happens more than you might think. Many different artists have come forward, saying how their management said they should remain closeted to the general public, in order to maintain the brand that has been established. A popular example of this would be Sam Smith, they were offered multiple times by their management to have a beard. More closeting in the industry comes from Colton Haynes, who has been open about how his management closeted him because he “could not be gay and work in the industry”.

Colton link

Beard: A woman or man who fake dates a person of the LQBTQ+ Community, to hide their real sexual orientation or identity

 The Types of Stunts and Stunt Songs

“Pap Pics”

Stunts are common, we all should know that. From the amount of staged paparazzi pictures and videos that get posted to twitter on the daily it is not surprising that stunts happen. One of the main reasons stunts happen is for publicity, I can tell you now, living in LA for as long as I did, the paparazzi aren’t at every corner just waiting for a celebrity to walk past. They are called to meet at a place where the celebrity is going to be, in order to get pictures. This call is made by the artists management normally, and many times it is done against the artists will.

“Relation-shit”

These types of stunts are the relationship stunts, normally it is two popular celebrities dating to gain publicity for a movie or song that they are doing. A popular reference to this would be Joe Jonas and Demi Lovato, Joe was approached by a head of Disney, who asked him to date, at the time, co-star Demi Lovato. This stunt was to push the new Disney movie that both were starring in, Camp Rock 2: The Final Jam. Now at the time Demi was unaware that Joe was approached to do this, so when Joe and hid dad approached her about it… wow that must have hurt.

Another example of a relation-shit would be Shawmilla. Now before you attack me for this, let’s look at all the facts. Everything that relationship has done has been staged, let’s look at the timeline.

 August 2015

-       the first time they publicly hung out (at the 2015 VMA’s), sparking rumors of them dating

September 2015

-       pictured together at the iHeart Radio Festival, sparking rumors of Camila branching off of Fifth Harmony

November 2015

-       “I Know What You Did Last Summer” was released and performed many different times, Camila was still in Fifth Harmony at the time

June 2016

-       Shawn and Camila win an award for IKWYDLS and accepted together

-       Camilla ultimately starts her solo career

December 2017

-       Shawn is pictured with Hailey Baldwin (Bieber)

February 2018

-       Camila is in a serious relationship with Matthew Hussey, confirmed by a trip to Mexico together

April 2018

-       Shawn and Hailey go to the Met Gala together (Iconic)

December 2018

-       Camila hints at music between her and Shawn on twitter (6 months before Senorita)

https://twitter.com/Camila_Cabello/status/1070381510740598785?s=20

May 2019

-       Matthew and Camila last spotted together, returning from a vacation in Italy

-       Met her family on May 14th

June 20th, 2019

-       Senorita is released, now this had been in the works for over 6 MONTHS, so this was all very planned out

-       On release day, the Senorita music video was also released, which is literally soft porn, I do not know how it is still on the internet, gross

-       But, Camila? Aren’t you still dating Matthew? Why would you release this very VERY touchy music video with Shawn, if you are still dating Matthew?

June 21st, 2019

-       Shawn and Camila in V Magazine, still very touchy

June 26th, 2019

-       Breakup articles about Matthew and Camilla, Weird since he met her family only a month before.

July 3rd, 2019

-       Staged photos of Shawn and Camila out and about

4th  

-       more staged pics

5th

-       Camila at Shawn’s Concert

6th

-       Shawn denies that him and Camila are dating

 https://twitter.com/PopCrave/status/1147700409919778816?s=20

7th  

-       Shawmila in San Francisco all day

12th

-       That god awful making out pics that shook the entire internet

-       More pics in SF

 Ok you get the point, they are pictured together only when one of them has music to promote, In this case its Senorita. Now for more recent proofs of this entire relationship being a sham. Shawn just released an album called “Wonder” and guess what we wonder Shawn? Why do you not post any pictures of Camila until you have an album to promote? And now you have a puppy? Pulling an Elounor are we?

Senorita is a total stunt song to “prove” to the public that they are together.

“Style”

Now this type of stunt gets its name from the queen of stunt songs herself, Ms. Taylor Swift. The notorious song Style, supposedly about “Ex” Harry Styles, is probably one of the most stunty stunt songs I have ever heard. Like come on! “James Dean Daydream look in your eyes” if you didn’t know, here is a short recap on the icon himself James Dean.

Taylor has time and time again written amazing songs, I would be lying if I did not call her one of the greatest lyricists on the 21st century, the woman can write extremely well. So why would she put a nod to James Dean, a famous actor, who was a closeted, RAGING bisexual in a song so clearly about Harry Styles? She knows what she is doing.

Talking more about the “Haylor” stunt, can we please end that? It was a 3-month PR stunt that happened 5 years ago, please just get over it, they never really dated. And to the hardcore Haylor fans, there is no chemistry between them.

Haylor; The Stunt

“I hate you because I’m getting paid to!”

Now I do not go into this one much, but basically it is when you see two artists publicly fighting and releasing diss tracks. A popular example of this would be, Machine Gun Kelley and Eminem, with their songs called “Rap Devil” and “Killshot”. Their “beef” was totally staged to boost views on both sides, its even more prominent because they have the same record label, INTERSCOPE.

Eminem v. MGK

 I will be adding to this the more things happens, but it you have and questions feel free to ask them!

[theformoffashion]

Rick Owens

This Mexican-American designer has taken a grip on the fashion community and fashion enthusiasts because of his minimalistic yet intriguing pieces. He is a man dedicated to his art, from the way he designs, to the way he dresses, and even her muse and companion Michel Lamy. Who is a force of her own, so we’ll dedicate another post to her.

The way he creates is very interesting, since it’s really is not for everyone, yet all his designs are very sellable and the sales are a huge success. Everyone wants some Rick Owens.

Human Backpacks: Rick Owens SS16

“Loving Ribbons” as he called these women bound together, was a show that symbolizes the feminine bond between women, as bizarre as it looked, it was his way of expressing sisterhood and nourishment, of course, accompanied with his well known clothes in a minimal palette such as black, white, gray and nude, with interesting hugging silhouettes.

This show, as per usual, gave something to talk about, to enjoy the shock factor with a meaning past the eye, as well as admiring his new and intriguing pieces for that collection.

https://www.dazeddigital.com/fashion/article/26840/1/what-you-need-to-understand-about-rick-owens-human-backpacks

Owens always combines the minimal with the extraordinary. We can see that through his furniture too. There are pieces available at some of his stores and they look like this:

https://twitter.com/streetfashion01/status/1293167469931171840?s=21

https://i.pinimg.com/750x/cf/90/dd/cf90dd64a2030550706122a81886ceee.jpg

In the picture of the chairs, we can see the contrast between the piece of art that are his chairs yet the minimalist space of the store, with few clothes hanging, and the choice of color palette.

Owens is very successful at giving people something to always be in awe, to make them have an experience or bond with their product, is something more than just a piece of clothing, what represents, and the mind where it comes from, yet they are versatile pieces that can be worn to give a show or just enjoy a night out. We can see how some celebrities have worn his pieces to red carpets and several other events, they look amazing, the clothes are beautiful, and yet he is able to express his message.

Rosalia wearing custom Rick Owens at the 2021 Met Gala

Kim Kardashian wearing Spring 2022 Ready To Wear

Kendall Jenner wearing Rick Owens Spring 2020 Ready To Wear for the cover of Architectural Digest

https://twitter.com/sadaboutchiffon/status/1437597062149787651?s=21

https://www.google.com.mx/amp/s/footwearnews.com/2021/fashion/celebrity-style/kim-kardashian-paris-hilton-wedding-black-rick-owens-dress-1203210057/amp/

https://www.google.com.mx/amp/s/footwearnews.com/2021/fashion/celebrity-style/kim-kardashian-paris-hilton-wedding-black-rick-owens-dress-1203210057/amp/

[flamehairedwritings]

The Fiancé: Chapter Two

Characters: Steve Rogers x Female Plus-Size Reader

Rating: E, 18+ Only

Summary: Based on the prompt ‘Character A’s ex will be at the Christmas Party A is attending. Character B poses as A’s fiancé ,’ by @alloftheprompts on tumblr. Now edited and extended!

A/N: I couldn’t get this idea out of my head recently, so here we are a year and half later. Yay!

This story includes swearing and alcohol with more tags to be added!

Masterlist

The Fiancé:  Chapter One

Read on AO3

Please don’t copy or steal my work, and please don’t post it on any other sites; credit does not count.

Good Morning, Washington!

Any minute now.

Any minute.

Your face is starting to ache from having it scrunched up so you can stare through the peep-hole properly.

3... 2... 1...

He still doesn’t appear.

How is that possible? You take the briefest of pauses to glance at your watch before swiftly returning your eye to the peep-hole. It’s 7:31. He’s always out of his door every single day at 7:30 for an hour long jog, and you’ve known that for three years because the sound of his door opening and closing is basically your alarm clock. Except for today. Today, you’ve gotten up before the opening and closing of the door because you want to make damn sure you don’t encounter him on your way to work. 

He’s always on time, how is he not out yet? Oh, no... Is he dead? Don’t be silly, of course he isn’t... No, he can’t be. Oh, just go.

Standing back, you exhale a short breath, adjust your bag on your shoulder and open your door. Closing it as quietly as possible behind yourself, you lock it and turn, pushing your keys into your bag.

Then you hear his door opening.

Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

You can do nothing else but freeze and stare at Steve Rogers stepping out of his apartment. As he closes and locks his own door, his keys going into the pocket of his sweatpants, he then turns to you and gives you that warm, wide smile that has you instantly smiling in return.

“Well, good morning. I didn’t know you even knew this time of day existed.”

You tilt your head, arching an eyebrow even as you unsuccessfully try to stop your smile from widening. “A-haa, you’re so funny, they keep ignoring my emails to have that little fact put in the museums.”

A corner of his mouth lifts higher than the other as he chuckles, his hands in his pockets. “How rude of them, I’ll bring it up at the next gala commemorating me.”

You snort as you walk together, him slowing a little so you can enter the elevator first. “Please do, I can’t wait to watch the live-stream of that.”

The elevator doors close as he leans his shoulder against the wall, your hands holding the strap of your bag as you face the doors.

“That reminds me actually...” Your gaze shifts to him as he looks to you, raising his eyebrows slightly. “... Tony’s throwing a party this Saturday to celebrate Christmas, ‘super-secret boy-band style’, I believe the invitation says.” Amusement and exasperation drips from his tone. “As you can imagine, I couldn’t think of a better way to spend my weekend, but I have to go, SHIELD and Stark orders, so, I was wondering if you wanted to come with me.”

Your mouth had already opened to make a quip at Stark’s expense, and now it just stays open.

Oh, God...

The nervousness that had vanished at the ease with which he can put you instantly returns.

“Uhm...” You can’t lie. You can’t say no, because A) That’s rude, and B) you’ll just have to give him a reason why, you won’t be able to stop yourself, and you really don’t want to give the truth. “... Yes. That sounds like fun.” You don’t know how you managed to say it without sounding completely like a robot.

He tilts his head, arching an eyebrow. “Easy, you know we both wouldn’t exactly call it ‘fun’, but I just thought you might want to see some of the guys, too, I know they’d love to see you.”

Oh, I do miss Sam and Nat, when was the last time we hung out... Right, so... Okay, that’s fine, then, that settles it, it’s just a friends thing.

Your smile is a little easier to maintain now as you nod. “Sure, yeah, that does sound like fun. Closer to our kind of fun, anyway.”

He looks slightly relieved, straightening as the elevator slows and the automated voice announces, ‘Ground Floor’.

“Great. Having you around will make it a little more bearable.” The doors open and he gestures for you to step out, his smile widening. “And I do reckon you owe me for Saturday.”

Oh, shit. 

You have to tell yourself to keep fucking moving and actually walk out of the elevator to the main doors of the building.

He means... Saturday. As in two days ago. As in when you were at your office Christmas party. As in when you bumped into your ex-boyfriend. As in when you told said ex-boyfriend that Steve Rogers is your fiancé. As in when Steve went along with being your fiancé. As in when he had his arm around you, called you ‘my girl’ and kissed the top of your head.

Swallowing, you quickly plaster on a smile as he catches up to you and gets the door, my God, just stop being so polite, letting you exit first.

“Oh... Yeah, well, you know...” You hope he knows because you don’t bloody know.

Letting the door swing shut and electronically lock behind him, he pushes his hands into his pockets again as you both pause on the pavement.

“Like I said, it wasn’t as awful as you painted it to be, and neither will this Stark party be, but I reckon fair is fair,” he smiles, tilting his head.

Oh. So we’re still not addressing the fiancé thing. Okay. Absolutely bloody fine.

You laugh quickly as you realise you’ve been quiet a second too long. “Oh, yeah, well, I think this party will be a lot more glamorous and the buffet a bit bigger.”

“That it will be. And a free bar, I’ve been told.”

“Oh, perfect!” You sound far too jovial about that. Hang on, that might actually help. Widening your smile, you gesture behind you. “I’d better get going, I have an early meeting.” Lies. “Thank you for the invite, though, I’d better dust off my glad-rags, see what wonders they can do for me.”

He chuckles and he’s still smiling and, oh, that smile. “Wear whatever you like, you look lovely in everything.”

You just laugh, slightly forcing it as you feel heat rise on your cheeks but, thank God, he’s already turned away, jogging off down the street. You meet a passing woman’s brief gaze and quickly drop your slightly maniacal smile, clearing your throat. It must have been really maniacal, actually, as her eyes quickly dart back to you and she frowns.

All righty.

Turning on your heel, you start to stride down the street, your mind buzzing. 

Oh, God...

You have a crush on Steve Rogers. Of course you have a crush on Steve Rogers, who doesn’t? But the absolute last thing in the world you want to do is ruin your friendship. You’d moved to D.C three years ago, on pretty much a whim, well, and a job offer, and a friend insisting it would be the best thing for you, not just your career... and it had been. You’d made such a good friend in Steve, and others, you loved your job, and... God, you really did not want to ruin any of it.

At the party, you’d nearly blown it, you still can’t believe you’d even said it. Steve had had every right to just laugh or frown at you or say his version of ‘what the fuck’, (’now hang on a second’), and you would have completely understood and forgiven him... Except he was the kindest man in the entire universe, so of course he’d just gone along with it, cracked one joke afterwards and not mentioned it again. Granted, it had only been an evening and a full day ago, but you were always messaging each other and it still hadn’t come up. Even on the ride back from the party, he’d driven, you’d just talked about the changing weather, sung along to a few songs on the radio and chatted about how you were each going to spend your Sunday.

Well, maybe, actually, it had been you talking about the weather, you singing along to the radio, and you talking about your Sunday. You had asked him how he was going to spend the next day, though... and asked question after question. Oh, he was going to watch a game at Sam’s? And Bucky was going to be there? How nice, how were they, by the way? Oh, how nice, that’s good, oh, look, back at the apartment!

Even when you’d messaged him yesterday it had just been to talk about the game, how the boys were and to send pictures of Sam’s new TV. Steve was either being very gracious and just letting it pass, or it just didn’t bother him at all, or even occur to him to talk about it.

Either way, you certainly weren’t going to bring it up.

With two weeks to go until Christmas, the weather was certainly colder, and, boy, did you feel it. Wishing you’d remembered your gloves in all the rushing around, you quickened your pace, shoving your anxieties away and dreaming of the hot drinks machine in the office kitchen.

Oh, hooo, I’m coming for you.

—

Stepping out of the elevator, you breathe a sigh of relief as the warmth of the office instantly washes over you. It’s a quiet space in a large building that houses everything from a law firm to a high-end fashion magazine, so you love this little floor of peace.

Book-publishing wasn’t something five-year-old you had dreamed of going in to, but you loved it. You loved discovering and meeting new, exciting authors, making their dreams come true, spreading their voice and imagination to the masses, and, hey, getting to read the proof-copies before the rest of the world is definitely a perk.

People in your office are lovely and calm, too, and despite the running joke that they’d have first dibs on Captain America’s only authorised biography should it ever come to fruition, no one really brings your friendship up unless you do. Smiling at the receptionist, Dolly, she returns it with a wide beam, which isn’t so unusual, she’s the happiest and most positive person you’ve ever met, until you realise she’s shoved her chair back and is darting around the desk to catch up with you.

She probably got up to something exciting at the weekend and can’t wait to tell me. She’s always doing exciting things, I wish I had the energy to do exciting things.

Walking along with you as you pass desks, only a couple of people here as it’s only 8:27 a glance at your watch tells you, Dolly is still beaming.

“So...”

“So...?” you prompt after a few moments as she just looks at you, exhaling a laugh.

You can always have a laugh with Dolly, she’s always ready to.

“Is there something you want to tell me?”

Oh, shit, it’s not her birthday, is it? No, it’s in May, we went to the Mexican restaurant across the road and got free tequila shots.

Raising your eyebrows as you smile in bemusement, you laugh again. “Uh, not really. Oh, I’m happy to see you, as always?”

She laughs, shaking her head. “You’re so coy!”

Pushing your office door open, you frown even as you continue smiling because what the hell is going on. “About what?”

She raises her arms as she stares at you, watching you place your bag on your desk and shrug your thick coat off. “’About what’?! Are you kidding me?”

Am I dreaming right now.

Sitting down in your chair, you raise your hands slightly, palms up. “I don’t actually understand what’s going on right now.”

Her hands go to her hips as she looks at you, amazed. “You’ve always been so damn good at keeping secrets, SHIELD should recruit you, I’ve always said it.”

“Well, that’s very kind of you to say, but I really don’t know what’s going on, Dolly.” Turning your computer on, you raise your eyebrows.

A wide smile breaks out across her features as she raises her arms again. “Your engagement, you secretive little secret-keeper!”

Your mouth drops open as you stare at her, one hand hovering over the keyboard, the other on your mouse.

“... I’m sorry?”

“Gwen heard you telling Joe at the party!” She’s grinning. She’s beaming. She’s delighted. “I get why you’d want to keep it a secret, but I’m so pleased you’re deciding to tell people!”

“Oh, my God... Dolly—”

“Oh, is it still a secret?” Her arms drop as she glances at the rest of the office but luckily no one’s close by. “Okay, all right, I’ll make sure no one gossips, I’ll put a stop to it if I hear any.” She grins again. “Until you tell people that is.” As you open your mouth to speak, she gives a little squeal and presses a hand over her heart. “I’m just so, so happy for you, babe, I can’t wait to hear all about it!”

I’m not dreaming. This is actually a nightmare. Or hell. Hell would be more deserving.

“Dolly, I, uhm, I actually—”

“Oh, shoot, sorry,” she interrupts, pulling a face as you hear the phone at her desk ringing. “Guess the day’s started.” Beaming, she blows you a kiss as she heads out of the door, pulling it closed behind her... but not before mouthing, “I love you, I’m so happy for you.”

You just watch her through the large window. Watch her march down the aisle in her heels. She always has great heels. Unique and stylish ones. Ah, yeah, she has a friend at the fashion magazine on the 21st floor. And you’re down here. On the 11th floor. Staring out of a window at your friend. Having an out of body experience.

You blink a few times as you sit back, frowning at yourself before you exhale a laugh.

Oh, come on, now, get a grip. Just call her once she’s finished with whoever she’s talking to, and then it’ll be fine, you’ll laugh about it, laugh about it some more when you have lunch, and then maybe laugh about it a bit more later. It’ll be hilarious.

Clearing your throat, you sign-in to your computer and open the internet browser. You usually check your phone first thing in the morning, but having been too preoccupied frantically running around trying to get ready to evade a certain someone, you haven’t had the chance yet. As Head of Marketing, you like to know what’s going on pretty much every second of the day on social media, see what trends there are and see what people are saying about the company’s books.

The browser opens onto a round-up of the news stories of the day, as it always does so you can get a quick overview of what’s going on, and you start to glance over them.

And then you freeze.

Oh, fucking hell.

Fucking Jesus Christ.

Headlines are jumping out at you, screaming.

Cap’s New Flame!

Who’s On The Guest List For The Wedding of The Century?!

Downtown NY Wedding Boutique Says It’s Already Making A Dress!

I Pledge Allegiance To... Who?!

You click on a random article and instantly start to read, your mouth open.

Good morning, Washington! What news we have for you! Previously linked to former SHIELD Director Peggy Carter in the 40s, then her niece, Sharon Carter, a few years ago, Cap’s love-life has since been as still as the ice he was found in... until now! Who is the mysterious lady who’s rumoured to be Steve’s fiancée? There’s no word yet on her name or even what she looks like, but we’ll keep you up-to-date with minute-by-minute re-caps (pun not intended!) and updates! Click the alarm for notifications, or subscribe... 

That’s why the woman on the street had stared. Quite a few people had stared actually. Some had even whispered. You’d just chalked it up to your usual anxieties but... Oh, God.

There’s a knock on your door.

Your gaze drifts up to find Dolly opening it, biting at her lower lip as she leans in. She’s not smiling anymore.

“Uh... It’s the, uhm, editor of the Washington Post on line 1, she, uhm... She’d like to schedule an interview.”

You stare at her, frozen, feeling hot and cold all at once.

Oh my fucking God.

—

Comments, reblogs and likes make my day in a way I can’t describe.

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged or untagged in this series!

Tagged: @herb-welch​, @jobean12-blog​, @gifsbysimplysonia​, @multireality​, @saltyspiceduh​, @sergeantangel​, @sarcasm-is-my-native-tounge​

Some accounts have been removed as they weren’t working! Apologies!

[agentamethystelf]

Sixth times the charm

Peggysous week day 2: five times (and an optional +1)

Summary/ notes: Five times they didn't get that drink (and one time they did)

Next stop on the peggysous train: Pining Station!

Also posted here on AO3

1.

The first time was an offhanded gesture, more out of friendly chivalry than anything else.

Peggy was more than a little happy at being directly invited for after hours drinks and Daniel was right there, looking like someone had dragged him backwards through a hedge. He declined politely, but there was something in his smile that she couldn't put her finger on.

(She realised what it was when he confronted her in that back alley.)

2.

The second time, Daniel was the one to ask.

He approached her bare, without his crutch. It felt more authentic somehow. She knew her value, and nobody else's opinion really mattered. Still, he cared and, sure, he had idolised her but he promised himself that he'd work on that.

"Uh, hey, I was gonna grab a drink."

"Right at this moment? It's nine o'clock in the morning."

"No, no, after I clock out. Wanna join me?"

It was soft enough to be taken as a friendly invite yet real enough that it could become more. Daniel didn't expect anything of the sort but he definitely wasn't opposed to the idea.

"Maybe another time, alright? I've got to meet a friend."

Another time would have to do.

(It wouldn't come for quite a while.)

3.

The third time almost doesn't count (undercover work being what it is) but since they nearly drank together and didn't, it does.

They were sat together at some new politicians charity gala, keeping a low profile as security. They mingled in the beginning, dressed to the nines and introducing themselves as Mr and Mrs Park, before retreating to a seat with a good vantage point of the venue.

Peggy sat with one hand around a wine glass, the other keeping a tight grip on her purse. "I assume we can't actually drink these?" she whispered, just loud enough to be picked up by Chief Thompson through her headpiece.

"Marge, the last thing we need is either of you drunk and slipping up. So no." Jack's voice crackled over the radio, feeding directly into her ear.

Daniel glanced over at Peggy just as she rolled her eyes at Jack's comment, going back to scanning the floor a moment later "Can we negotiate for a sip or two?"

"One singular sip, agents."

Peggy pushed her glass away all the same. "I'd need something stronger than wine to get through this anyway."

(They were there together but not together, not like their personas. It was nice to pretend, even just for one night.)

4.

By the fourth time their feelings for each other were nearing the point of no return but, for spies, they had some god awful timing.

"It seems the west coast is stealing away all of my friends," Peggy joked as soon as the rest of the office was done congratulating the new chief. "I'm expecting a call from Angie next, letting me know she's set her sights on the bright lights of Hollywood."

"Ah damn, I forgot Stark was moving to California too. Sure it's not too late to reject the promotion?"

Peggy laughed, laying a hand on her hip. "I'm sure Howard will grow on you. Eventually."

"I wouldn't go marking that date just yet Peg," Daniel retorted, leaning into his chair.

Peggy wasn't sure when he'd progressed to just calling her Peg. She liked it when he did.

That sent a little pang of something through her. Longing? Disappointment? Somewhere in between, maybe. Peggy would miss having him around as a friend in the office. She would miss having him around entirely.

"How about you and I grab a drink to celebrate?" Peggy asked. "Are you doing anything after your shift?"

Daniel looked down at his hands. "I can't tonight Peg. I promised my sisters I'd have dinner with them and if there's one thing I know, it's that you don't break a promise with the Sousa women."

There was that pang again. Of course, she wasn't jealous that Daniel already had plans with his sisters; it made perfect sense that they would want to spend time together as a family before he went away. Now, all she had to do was come up with a responsible answer without inviting herself over for dinner.

"Well, I hope you have a nice night. Will you tell them I said hello?"

"Yeah, I will."

Peggy nodded and suddenly the reality of it all was too much to bear and she needed to go. She grabbed a file she was done with and went to leave, but then...

"Peggy, wait."

"Yes?"

She turned and Daniel was stood at the end of his desk, just watching her.

"I- nevermind. It's nothing. I'll see you later."

(She walked away, and the next week he was gone.)

5.

Sixth months apart and Peggy asked again.

"That was quite a night. God, I could do with a drink," she said, as casually as she could. "How about you?"

Daniel paused for a moment, and Peggy realised this was a terrible idea. "I can't tonight. Maybe another time?"

"Yes, of course." She took a moment to just watch his reaction, from the way his gaze kept jumping from her and then back to the floor to the awkward nods as she reeled her invite back in. "I've forgotten my jacket, go on without me."

"Oh, night."

"Night."

She felt her face fall marginally.

A moment later her heart stopped.

"Daniel! Over here!"

Peggy heard him laugh sweetly. "What are you going here?"

She got to the window and pinched the blinds apart just in time to watch him wrap his arm around a woman across the street and kiss her soundly. Peggy watched them walk away, arm in arm, and she silently cursed herself for being so stupid. Of course he had found someone, he was a good man and any girl would be lucky to have him.

Daniel had sounded happy, so she would be happy for him.

(She met Violet the next day and she was absolutely deserving of his love.)

+1.

Finally, they had a quiet moment alone.

They were sat together in the gardens of Howard's villa, both with a glass of Dr Wilkes' criminally good wine in hand. He had left a bottle as his parting gift to the SSR folks.

At some point Peggy's hand had wandered to Daniel's and he hadn't needed any more prompting to intertwine their fingers, holding on like it was the last thing he would ever get to do. Peggy could feel the warmth coming from his body next to her but inside she yearned for more.

Slowly, she let go of Daniel's hand. Peggy wrapped an arm around his waist and used it to pull herself closer. She sank into him and let herself really relax for the first time in weeks. Daniel's arm snuck around her waist and then pulled her in further. With her right side now flush with his left, she felt almost scarily at home.

So many things had gone wrong and so many things were yet to be fixed, but having each other to lean on would be enough to get them through.

[harry-pottery-barn]

As Your Future...

Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff!Reader

a/n: This is part one of a mini-series I’m doing – look out for part 2 and possibly a part 3. This is also my first one shot, so any feedback/constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated!

word count: 4.1k

warnings: light cussing, some French words (google translate works well for these but knowing the meaning isn’t necessary for the storyline)

requested by @fenxiaomao​ on tumblr

posted on tumblr and wattpad august 26, 2020

art: https://www.reddit.com/r/Pottermore/comments/fovxjq/draco_malfoy_artwork_by_me/

********

“Looks like we got paired up again, L/N.”

“What a coincidence,” you groaned sarcastically as Professor Slughorn smiled at the lot of you. “We get paired up for everything, don’t we?”

You clenched your jaw as the white blonde boy sat down in the stool next to you. You hated the British mannerism of calling everyone by their last name. You didn’t dare look at him while you flipped through your crisp copy of Advanced Potion Making.

“You say that as if I wanted this to happen,” spat Draco, his awkward smile now curled into a scowl.

You despised everything about Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The teachers, the classes, the weather, the uniforms, the houses, the castle, and especially the students.

The students who never paid you any attention unless you were involved in a rumor. The students who shot sideways glances at you in the halls. The students who didn’t bother lowering their voices when they gossiped about you because they assumed you didn’t understand a speck of English… even when all of your classes were conducted in English.

Even the students of your own house seemed to keep you on the sidelines, so much so that you had given up on trying to become friends with anyone.

At least they acknowledged your existence, you kept reminding yourself.

You spent a lot of your time wondering why the so called “kind and caring” Hufflepuffs didn’t go any further than simple pleasantries with you. Perhaps it was false that they were all accepting, or perhaps they thought someone of your lineage would be better suited in Slytherin.

It was utterly clear, even to you, why nobody seemed to bat an eyelash at you. You were the prestigious, pretentious, pure-blood transfer from Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. Or, as you knew it, Académie de Magie Beauxbatôns.

Of course, nobody knew why you had transferred so late in your education. Your parents advertised their desire to move to England to their friends, co-workers, and even the school administrators. It was extremely plausible that they simply wanted you close by while you were at school, instead of in another country. What people didn’t know, however, was that you just so happened to move to Wiltshire – more specifically, a mansion that was just down the street from Malfoy Manor.

You came from a very well known family – the longest line of pure-blood wizards in all of France. Your family line had only been “muddled” by a Squib who married a Muggle and started a Muggle family back in the 1400s. Besides that one branch, every single bit of your family tree is pure-blood. Your parents strived to uphold the so-called purity of the L/N bloodline. And, as two of the most ambitious and determined people you knew, you were aware of just how far they would go to keep it that way.

As members of one of the largest pure-blood families, you and your parents often attended French, as well as international, galas, balls, and fêtes for those with similar bloodlines. This, of course, is how your parents first met the Malfoy’s.

The night you first saw Draco had to have been ages ago – nine years to be exact, when you were both only seven. It was a rather private event, celebrating the 90th birthday of some old man, in the manor that you were destined to live in about a decade later. However, you had no idea back then.

At the time, Draco religiously slicked back his hair, had chubby cheeks, and was a couple inches shorter than you. He didn’t say more than a simple “hello” before hiding behind his mother’s leg, staring at you the entire time. You ignored him and had a conversation with his sweet, almost warm mother, while your parents discussed something rather serious with his father, who you were genuinely terrified of.

Now, nine years later, you were sat next to Draco Malfoy in a potions class with the task of successfully brewing a Wound-Cleaning potion within an hour.

Wordlessly, you stood up and gathered your ingredients from the pantry. With your arms full of jars of honey-water, dittany, boomslang skin, stewed mandrake, asphodel, and lion fish spines, you made your way out of the store and to your desk, where Draco was turned towards Blaise Zabini, laughing. Just before you reached your table, someone very tall and massive bumped into you.

There was a loud, earsplitting shatter that echoed through the stone dungeon, silencing any small talk. The large bottle of honey-water had fallen from your arms, and the entire bottom half of your uniform was soaked.

“Bloody hell, Goyle,” giggled Pansy Parkinson, who peered from behind Gregory Goyle.

Gregory’s feet and shins were also covered in honey-water and shards of glass. He glared at you, pure anger in his eyes.

“Bet she did it on purpose,” he muttered. “Wasn’t my fault Beauxbatons wasn’t looking where she was going.”

“Knock it off, Goyle,” said Draco sternly from your desk.

You shot him a quick glare before rolling your eyes.

“Is everyone alright?” said Professor Slughorn from his desk, looking over his glasses at us.

“Nobody’s hurt,” you said.

You leaned to the side and set down the rest of your jars on a nearby table.

“Beauxbatons dropped a jug of honey-water,” Gregory said, glaring at you all the while.

“It’s Y/N L/N,” you said clearly, pulling your wand from your robes.

“Bloody hell,” gasped Pansy.

Gregory took a step back, stumbling into another table. He scrambled for his own wand and pointed right at your neck, gripping it in his gigantic hand.

“Mon dieu! I’m trying to clean up the mess!”

“Watch where you’re going, Goyle,” muttered Ron Weasley, a Gryffindor whose cauldron had tipped over and rolled across the table.

“Pfft,” said Gregory, pocketing his wand. He continued, fake coolness dripping from his words, “I knew that, Beauxbatons.”

Pansy cackled from behind him. She passed you, whispering loudly to Gregory, “You should’ve hexed her; then perhaps she’d go back to where she came from.”

Without another word, you waved your wand at the floor. The glass bottle pieced itself back together, while the honey-water evaporated from the stone floor and your uniform. You didn’t bother with Gregory’s. He slammed his giant shoulder into you again as he trod into the pantry.

“Connard,” you said under your breath.

“Let me get a new one.”

Draco had already leapt out of his stool and passed you, following Gregory. You rolled your eyes, knowing you were perfectly capable of getting a new jug, before gathering your other ingredients and finally sitting back down at your cauldron. You began preparing the ingredients, glancing at the textbook only once to confirm a measurement. You seamlessly cut, ground, and poured each ingredient from memory by the time Draco finally returned with a new bottle of honey-water.

“How did you prepare them so quickly?” he asked in awe, the jug hitting the desk with a low thud. He added, with his trademark smirk, “switch ingredients with Granger, did you?”

“My school specializes in healing,” you scoffed.

You lit the fire underneath your cauldron and measured the honey-water, immediately pouring it into the cauldron.

“I’ve known how to brew this since I was thirteen. What took you so long?”

“Had to have a conversation with Goyle and Parkinson,” he said.

“About?”

“I think you’re smart enough to know what it was about, L/N.”

You glared at him, unsure whether to feel exhausted or exasperated.

“I can handle myself without your chivalry, Draco.”

“What was I supposed to do? Let him walk all over you?” he asked aggressively, yet barely louder than a whisper.

“He didn’t walk all over me,” you replied in an equally quiet voice. “I just didn’t pick a fight with him. At least I can go a day without insulting someone’s family, wealth, or appearance.”

“Stop acting so high and mighty, L/N. We both know you’re in a more damning situation than you like to tell.”

You kicked Draco’s leg under the desk before peacefully continuing with brewing the potion. You could tell, even without looking at him, that the Slytherin was bright red with anger.

“We also know that we’re not supposed to bring it up around other people, don’t we?” you whispered in a sickly sweet voice, trying to be as demeaning as possible.

You didn’t like being rude, but you would rather play Draco’s little game than run the risk of Hogwarts knowing why you had transferred. Draco fumed in the stool next to you, then began to jot things down in a notebook for the rest of the class as you silently finished brewing the Wound-Cleaning Potion. Your mind began to wander as you added and stirred in each ingredient.

You had only met Draco three more times before attending Hogwarts. After your very first meeting, you saw each other again about five years later, at a gala for Quidditch sponsors in Germany. Just like the first time, your parents began talking; however, you and Draco were left alone.

It was awkward to say the least.

He was much cockier and more confident, and he spent most of your time together talking about himself and his successes as Seeker on his team at Hogwarts. You probably managed to squeeze in five sentences during the hours you were stuck alone with him at that table.

The third time you saw each other was in Marseilles, France, at the housewarming party for your parents’ beach house two years ago. Luckily, many of your friends from Beauxbatons were there. You couldn’t help but feel bad for Draco as he stood awkwardly with your friends, nodding his head while clearly not understanding a single word that was said. You decided to start speaking in English, which you eventually regretted. Draco took the opportunity to talk about how great he was once again. Your friends all gaped in awe, asking questions and fawning over him. You passively listened as Draco got an ego boost, answering question after question like a celebrity.

The last time was in Malfoy Manor last July. You had been out of school for no more than a couple of weeks when your parents decided to take a trip to England. Once you arrived, the Malfoy’s had happily invited your family over for dinner last-minute. Or at least, you thought it was last-minute at the time.

That dinner, as well as the trip itself, was all planned by your parents and Draco’s parents years before. And just as they had planned on the first night you and Draco met, they gave you news that would change your life.

“You’re kidding,” you said, no other words coming to mind.

“We are not,” said your father sternly, “and we would appreciate it if you would hold your tongue while Mr. Malfoy is speaking.”

“Thank you, Mr. L/N,” drawled Mr. Malfoy.

You fell silent as you clenched your fists under the giant dining table.

“In the winter of 1998, after you are both eighteen, you will be married here in Malfoy Manor,” explained Mr. Malfoy. “This, of course, is to ensure that the L/N and Malfoy bloodlines are secure from any filth that would accompany half- and mudbloods.”

“As you are both only children, we deemed it was only fitting to merge our two families together, creating an even better bloodline for the future,” continued your father. “This also allows the opportunity for the two of you to marry someone who is not a cousin of any sort.”

As you panicked, your eyes fell on Draco, who was sitting next to you at the table. His blank face stared at the wall in front of him, without a single reaction.

“And, so the two of you do not enter a marriage without knowing each other first, we have decided to move to England, and Y/N will be transferring to Hogwarts in the fall,” said your mother.

“WHAT?!” you shouted, standing up abruptly. “I am most certainly NOT transferring to Hogwarts! And I am not going to marry Draco! This is absolutely absu--”

“You will learn to keep your temper under control in the presence of others, Y/N,” growled your father.

What felt like two large, invisible hands pushed down on your shoulders, forcing you back into your chair.

“Of course, Y/N, you do not have to do anything. You have choices,” your father said.

A sense of relief flooded your system.

“Either you can transfer to Hogwarts for your last two years of school and marry Draco the following winter, or you can explain to the Dark Lord why you will not be doing so.”

You felt your heart stop. There was no way in hell you were about to try to tell Voldemort himself why you didn’t want to keep your bloodline pure by marrying Draco.

“That’s what I thought, ma fille,” said your father with a smile, before continuing to discuss details with the Malfoy’s.

You didn’t remember much else from that night. Your mind began to wander just as it was now, while you were brewing this simple potion.

The potion was purple, but not smoking, in just under forty minutes. You called Professor Slughorn over to inspect it, causing Draco to jolt. He seemed to have dozed off while you were working.

Figures, you thought helplessly.

After Professor Slughorn joyously celebrated your potion, he allowed you and Draco to leave class for lunch as soon as your station was cleaned up. You quietly replaced all of the ingredients in the pantry, emptied your cauldron, packed your things, and left the classroom.

“That was brilliant, L/N,” said Draco, who had caught up to you in the empty corridor. “I didn’t have to lift a finger.”

“For the last time, Draco, it’s Y/N. You know I hate the whole last name thing,” you said, not looking at him.

“Perhaps I hate the whole first name thing.”

“Then perhaps you shouldn’t speak to me at all,” you fired back.

“If I had the chance to never speak to you again in my life, trust me, I would take it,” he snapped.

You weren’t quite sure why, but his words stung in a way no insult had hurt you before. You remained silent for the rest of your walk, until you reached the Great Hall. You didn’t even feel hungry anymore.

“I’m going back to my common room,” you muttered, turning away from the massive oak doors and walking towards the Hufflepuff Basement.

“Ah, she speaks,” said Draco, in a tone that was maddening.

You stopped dead in your tracks. You looked at him again, contemplating if it was worth getting into a quarrel over.

“It’s just that-- well, you’re an awfully quiet person.”

“Really? Hmm, I haven’t noticed,” you deadpanned.

A group of first years passing by suddenly stopped walking. They started whispering and giggling amongst themselves, very clearly about you and Draco.

“What are you looking at?” spat Draco. “Go before I give you all detention.”

With small screeches, they rushed past you into the Great Hall, still whispering and giggling.

“C’était superflu,” you mumbled to yourself.

“Unnecessary? They were laughing at us!” said Draco. “If I had the chance, I would’ve straightened them out!”

“They’re first years! They’re barely eleven! You truly expect a group of eleven-year-old’s to pass by two teenagers who are alone and not be immature?”

“I was never that immature.”

You scoffed. “Never that immature”? Did he know how he acted at parties? “Never that immature”, my ass, you thought.

“Do you have something to say, L/N?” he demanded, daring to take a step closer to you.

“Putain de bâtard, it’s Y/N!” you shouted.

You turned swiftly on your heels, noticing the odd stares and whispers of students going to lunch, and marched down the corridor. You didn’t look back while you sped to your common room, only stopping to tap the barrel that opened the door. The large circle door swung open. You scurried through and slammed the door, relieved to be in the Hufflepuff common room.

Merlin, how Draco pissed you off. As if having no real friends at school wasn’t terrible enough, the man you were destined to marry was always there to make you angry on an already bad day.

It took all of your willpower to not fight back. The way he was treating you, as well as everyone else, was just plain wrong. On a regular day, you might have made a couple of comments back, but you never called him names or raised your voice. You kept your temper in check, letting him berate and poke at you every day.

You sat down in a large, golden armchair and stared into the fire, finally realizing what you had said to Draco.

A wave of panic rushed over you. Draco was surely going to tell his father of this incident, and if Draco’s father heard of it, he was surely going to tell your father.

Your father scared you more than Voldemort himself. He knew how to get to you, and he managed, without hesitation, to discipline you from the longest of distances. You honestly never had a clue how he always found out about anything slightly wrong you had done, but he did… every single time.

The uneasy feeling lasted throughout the rest of the day, clouding your thoughts and ruining your appetite. By the time dinner rolled around, the last thing you wanted to do was eat. Since you had missed lunch, you forced yourself away from your library desk, without a single assignment completed, and to the Great Hall, hoping you didn’t run into Draco along the way.

Once you were a single turn away from the Great Hall, you heard your name echo through the empty stone corridor.

It was Draco.

You sighed heavily, strong feelings of anger, fear, and exhaustion overwhelming you.

“Please, not now, Draco,” you groaned.

“But you don’t know what I was going to say,” he replied, confused.

“Honestly, I don’t care.”

“Y-you don’t care?”

That was odd. You tried to recount another time Draco had stuttered, but your mind was blank.

“I know it’s going to be something either insulting, negative, or inflammatory, and quite frankly, I don’t want to hear it. You’ve probably already told your father I cursed at you, and I’m sure my father’s punishments will begin promptly tomorrow morning, so thank you,” you said without taking a breath. “I need to force myself to eat something, so if you’ll excuse me--”

“Why would I tell my father you cursed at me?” he asked plainly.

“Don’t you tell your father everything?”

“Well, not everything… just when someone needs to be discipli--”

“Disciplined or punished, yes, I know. You sound exactly like my father.”

Draco suddenly became very shy. You had never seen him this way before. He was so thrown off his game, his act had completely dropped.

Suddenly, you felt very lightheaded and dizzy. You quickly stumbled towards the wall and caught yourself before you fell. You pressed your fingers to your temples as you leaned back against the wall, sliding down until you sat on the ground.

“Merlin, Y/N, are you alright?”

“Oh, just a little lightheaded.”

“Why’s that?”

“I didn’t catch breakfast this morning, and then I didn’t eat all day today because I’ve been nervous about what kind of fresh hell my father would put me through if he knew I called you a bastard,” you explained with a weak laugh.

Draco slid down the wall and sat on the cold stone floor next to you.

“You don’t have to act like you care about me,” you groaned, resting your chin on your knees.

“Who said I was acting?” asked Draco, in a soft voice he had never used before.

He glanced around the corridor, as if making sure it was empty.

“You are my future wife, after all,” he continued very quietly. “Might as well try to get along.”

“Could you sound any less pleased about it?” you chuckled.

“I’m sure we can both agree it’s a rather unfortunate situation to be in, but is it so terrible for me to care about the general well being of the person I’m going to be spending the rest of my life with?”

You fell silent. This was the first time he had ever said something remotely nice to you. You were very taken aback, searching for something, anything to say. You and Draco sat in peaceful silence for about a minute, completely uninterrupted. His words rang in your mind: Might as well try to get along.

“Do you ever wish you could do what you wanted?” you asked abruptly.

“Excuse me?” Draco asked, bewildered.

“Oh, come on. Don’t pretend your parents don’t control your every move and your future. Do you ever wonder what things would be like… what your life would be like… if you were the one in control?”

Draco didn’t answer. You turned your head, laying your cheek on your knees, and glanced back at him. He looked as though he had never considered a life with his own decisions before.

“Personally,” you started, catching his attention, “I would want to own a potion shop. In the southern French countryside. I never decided on where specifically. I figured I would have the rest of my life to imagine a village that was big enough to not know everyone but small enough to be quaint. My shop would be a cottage on a plot with a few acres to grow my own plants and herbs. All of my ingredients would either be locally sourced or imported from humane places with the best quality potion ingredients. My potions would be brewed by myself and a couple other potioneers – preferably from different countries in order to bring new perspectives to the table. It wouldn’t necessarily be a lavish way of life, but it would be mine, and it would be helping others as well.

“I’d want to be able to fall in love and get married on my own accord,” you explained further, “regardless of their blood status, but preferably a wizard so the potion shop could work out as well. We’d either live in the second floor of the shop or in a different cottage a short walk away. We’d have a dog and a cat, and perhaps children if it felt right and we were old enough. I would be able to be my own person without walking on eggshells, trying to do what would make my parents the happiest. I would leave the stuck-up, grandiloquent snob my parents raised me to be, and I wouldn’t have to live up to the generations of standards put on me. I would have nothing to do with my parents, nothing to do with the Ministry of Magic, and nothing to do with--”

You caught yourself before you said the name of the castle you were currently in. You sighed, knowing that this fantasy you concocted for yourself would never become a reality. That you were stuck in the narrative your parents wrote for you, unable to pick up a pen and rewrite it yourself.

You leaned your head back against the stone wall with a small thud, breathing deeply. You saw Draco tilt his head toward you out of the corner of your eye. You looked back at him, studying his face.

His white blonde hair fell down in front of his eyes ever so slightly. His expression was just as woeful as yours. You couldn’t help but notice the faint tinge of blue in his light grey eyes.

“That’s the most I think I’ve ever heard you say,” he said with a slight chuckle.

“Believe it or not, my friends back at Beauxbatons call me loud and outgoing,” you admitted.

“I promise you,” he said in a determined tone, his eyes never leaving yours, “that, as your future husband, you will one day have that shop. I will make sure of it.”

A smile crept onto your face – the first genuine smile of yours in a long time. You leaned your head on Draco’s shoulder. The smell of expensive cologne and green apples washed over you as you stared out the large, arched window that looked over the school grounds.

The sky, which was bright pink from the sunset, gave the trees and rolling hills a beautiful warm glow. The clouds were painted orange and dark purple, and you could see the silhouette of an owl soaring from one side of the window to the other.

You felt content and at peace for the first time in what felt like your entire life.

And suddenly, the world didn’t seem so dim anymore.

[dianapana]

SasuHina Month 2020- Day 13

Prompt:  Met Gala + Indirect Kiss.

Prologue 

Sasuke POV

I wake up when my phone just won’t stop ringing. I’ve ignored it for about 15 minutes but the damn thing just won’t shut up. With my eyes still closed I roll on my side and blindly search for the phone on my nightstand. It stops ringing just as I get my hand on it but it starts again the moment after. Without looking who it is I pick up and place it to my ear.

“Have you seen it?” my agent asks sounding part annoyed and part tired.

“Seen what?” I ask and take the phone from my ear to check the hour, it’s barely fucking 7 a.m. It’s my time off, I can’t believe he woke me up at 7 fucking a.m.

“Twitter. You have gone viral” he says; I can already picture him; his teeth are clenched and the vein on his forehead is about to pop.

“Why? How did I go viral when I did literally nothing?” I have no notifications on my phone besides the billion missed calls from him. It’s true most people aren’t awake this early in the morning and I always turn my internet off on my phone before going to bed; the notifications wake me up otherwise.

“Check it and we have to have a meeting. I’ll call the other agents and talk about how this should be handled.” He says and disconnects.

I’m tempted to ignore his call and go back to sleep but I know myself and now that I am up, I won’t be able to fall asleep again. Still instead of checking twitter right away I get up to take a shower and have some breakfast. Only after I’ve finished eating and drinking my coffee do I turn on my internet and I am immediately spammed from every social media app there is. I have been tagged and mentioned in a lot of posts. I click one of the tweets and it simply says “@SasukeUchia @HinataHyuga

#SasuHina

That’s it. That’s the tweet”

There are many other tweets similar in notion and they all have the #SasuHina, and each of them has over 70k retweets and comments and 150k likes. I am still extremely confused by what is happening. I keep scrolling until I reach a tweet that has pictures, the pictures are from last night’s Met Gala.

I start recalling my memories from last night

We were barely in the car when the night started going sour. Sakura was texting away on her phone with a speed I had never seen before, she was frowning and her mood was just…awful. Naruto kept sneezing, before we started getting ready, he had a fight with his and Hinata’s agents; he didn’t want to attend because of his cold but they pushed him; Hinata kept looking at him with sympathy and offering him tissues. We were 5 minutes away from the venue when Sakura put her phone away, no longer looking angry but more tired. Her shoulders were lowered and she burst into tears. Neither or us knew what to do for a moment before Hinata moved and rubbed her back for a moment.

“Sakura what’s wrong?” Hinata asked softly and did her best to dab her tears away without smudging her make-up.

“She broke up with me.” The air fizzled with anxiety for a moment. Sakura and her girlfriend whose name she never revealed to us, had been having problems since the fake dating thing started back in November. Honestly, I had never expected them to last that much; does that make me a dick? Maybe. But almost 5 months had passed and that’s a long time to be fighting with somebody. The car stopped and we had to get out and do the red-carpet walk. Sakura’s eyes were red just as Naruto’s nose. All in all we were a mess.

For a second, we all stood still, I was considering telling the driver to just take us back to the hotel but Sakura took the initiative and told us to move; so, we did. Naruto exited first and helped Hinata out. Her dress was massive so she needed a helping hand. I waited for the two to take a few steps away from the car before I got up and helped Sakura; thankfully she didn’t have a huge dress on but a pantsuit so it was easier for us to walk around and move.

As usually reporters kept screaming their questions at us even if we never actually answer any of them. Paparazzi too followed their normal routine and kept asking us to kiss but we didn’t. It didn’t feel right; Sakura was heartbroken and I’m pretty sure Hinata didn’t kiss Naruto because she didn’t want to catch his cold. After a hundred flashes blinded us, we made our way to the inside of the venue. Despite the fact that they had forced Naruto to come, our agents were kind enough to say we could leave early if we wanted to; I was quite sure, actually I was certain that we would.

The night went on as normal for a while, we chatted among ourselves, with other celebrities we did all you were supposed to do at this type of event. Sakura went to the bathroom to “check her make-up” but I heard her phone rang so I put one and one together and assumed she’d be in there for a while talking on the phone. Naruto and Hinata had split for a moment to go talk to different people and I took the opportunity to get myself some water. When i returned with my water, I walked back to where Hinata was sitting alone.

This is where apparently the night went wrong; the first pictures are from this following 5 minutes

As I’ve mentioned before Hinata and I aren’t close so even when I went to stand by her side we didn’t really talk. I took another sip of my water and looked around the room thinking we had stayed long enough and that we could leave soon. I turned to Hinata to tell her my idea and she too seemed eager to leave. I put my glass of water on the table behind us.

“You don’t want that anymore?” She asked and I shook my head, putting my hands into my pockets. She took the glass and drank the rest. I saw nothing weird then and I see nothing weird about it now, the past half year we’ve been shoved together so much that despite not knowing each other we were comfortable. Naruto finished talking and he was looking for us; I nodded towards the door telling him silently that we were ready to bounce and he nodded back.

“I’ll go look for Sakura so we can all leave” Hinata said and took a step forward, she hadn’t held onto the skirt of her dress and stepped on it and stumbled, so I did what everyone would do in that case; I caught her. I held onto her waist and arm until she was back on her feet and stable. She looked up at me with red cheeks; probably from the embarrassment that could have been and thanked me. I let go of her and she went on to find Sakura. The two of them returned soon; Sakura had cried some more, it was obvious from the redness of her eyes and the smudged make-up. The two girls walked in front of us and we all moved quite fast so the paparazzi couldn’t take clear pictures of us. We got into the limo and left. Instead of going to the hotel where we all got ready, we asked the limo to take each of us home. Sakura lived the closest; than Naruto; Hinata and I were last. We were alone in the limo a maximum of 10 minutes which she spent with her eyes closed her head tilted back. When we got to where she lived, I got out of the limo to help her with the dress and walked her to the elevator so she wouldn’t fall again. We hugged good night and I went on my way. I got home took a shower, put on some boxers and went to sleep. I slept until I was woken by my agent and now, I’m looking at the pictures on this twitter thread.

The first one is me holding my glass water, the second is of me drinking, then the glass is on the table and the final one is Hinata drinking from it. The most liked comment under these pictures is the one saying “So they just swapping saliva like nobody’s business. Can I get and ‘indirect kiss’ please? Anyone?”

The next pictures are of me when I caught her; my arms around her waist and her looking up at me flushed. I know how that looks out of context…The comments on this one vary, but most of them have the word ‘swoon’ in them.

The next pictures are of me helping her out of the car, me walking her to the door, us hugging but the angle on the last one is weird and I have a suspicion that whatever scumbag paparazzi followed us did that intentionally. It doesn’t look like a simple hug. It looked like a kiss. This tweet has the most likes and comments and as I’m looking at it, people keep liking it and retweeting. It has over 170k likes.

I scroll for a while longer and I keep seeing the same few pictures and just people making up something that really isn’t there. I stop when I see a picture of us leaving. Hinata looks at Sakura with sad eyes; Sakura’s eyes are visible you can tell she has been crying; Naruto is behind and he had just sneezed and they caught him with a weird expression on that looks similar to disgust and I just look tired. That certain post has the SasuHina hashtag but it’s a hate post. The thread goes on and on saying how disgusted this person is with me and Hianta for breaking Naruto and Sakura’s heart. How we’re cruel for doing that in public and so on. Another person points out the fact that unlike normally we did not kiss for the paparazzi. They keep on piling up evidence from nothing.

I keep scrolling and scrolling and even after almost 2 hours I can’t reach the beginning of the hashtag. We returned home at about 1 or 2 in the morning. How could this happen in 5 hours?

I walk to my bedroom, put my phone down and lay down. My phone keeps buzzing with each notification. I only looked on twitter. But the notifications come from every social media platform that I am on. I don’t know how we are going to fix that. We could tell the truth that nothing is there but misleading pictures. We could even go as far as to tell everyone that the dating was fake all along. That would be a huge relief for all of us I am certain.

My phone rings a few moments later and I see it’s Naruto. The fact that he’s awake at 9 in the morning is concerning.

“Dude. People took 7 pictures out of context and made a literal drama. I had like 25 texts from random actresses telling me that it’s such a shame Hinata and I broke up and that they are there for me if I need the comfort”

“Yea it’s all a mess.” I say and sigh loudly.

“Did you get any kind of shade?” He asks and he sound concerned.

“No, what do you mean?”

“Well I just talked to Hinata for about 30 minutes. She was really upset. Apart from you and hers ship name trending and most of her accounts gaining a lot of new followers she said she got a shit ton of hate too. People messaging her telling her she’s a whore and shit like that. People are disgusting man”

I clench my teeth and just say that I got nothing. I can’t fucking believe they are slut shaming her. I mean I do believe it I know that people suck but it still feels so wrong and unfair. They are shaming her only and not me. She’s the female and society has decided she is the bad one, she is the one with the fault, the one to blame. I hang up with Naruto and look for Hinata’s number in my phone. I want to text her and see if she’s ok. I feel bad and responsible.

I start laughing like a maniac when I realize I don’t even have her fucking number. We’ve been coworkers from 8 years and I don’t have her number, I know literally nothing about her. And three interactions have been blown out of proportions by people and fucked with our lives.

A couple hours later all 4 of us and our agents are in a meeting. Hinata looks ok, maybe a little annoyed, I was worried she’d be crying or throw a fit. Naruto’s cold seems to be worse; he looked like a zombie and Sakura has sunglasses on, inside so I can only assume she’s feeling peachy too.

“We haven’t yet decided how to handle this but the damage is done I don’t think we can simply deny the pictures and go back to normal, nor do we really want to. The SasuHina thing is bigger than anything we’ve seen in a while” My agent states and looks to the others to go on.

“Maybe the best course of action is to come clean, tell everyone that the two couples split up a while ago but you guys are still really good friends and on amazing terms which is why you didn’t want to make it public yet and create any sort of drama” Sakura’s agent is the one to speak next and he does look to be a bit regretful. Had this happened a few days faster maybe Sakura and her girlfriend wouldn’t have broken up, pretty sure most of us are thinking that.

“But we won’t be addressing the SasuHina thing yet; if someone asks about it during an interview in the following weeks you all have to say ‘no comment’” My agent added.

“Why? Won’t that make them think we are dating…?” Hinata asks and her agent nods.

“It’s vague. You don’t say no and you don’t say yes either. The amount of exposure you two are getting right this moment is huge. We even got a few shows calling asking for the two of you to be the protagonists” Her agent says and stops for a second for, what I can only assume is dramatic effect. “One of the offers is a really huge movie that people have been waiting for a long time but it kept getting postponed, it is after a book and the writer has the last say when it comes to casting and she never liked any of the actors but this time she is the one that contacted us not the casting director. All you have to do is go audition and the roles will be yours”

I haven’t really started looking into new roles yet, despite Naruto being done for almost half an year we’ve still been very busy with other things still about it. There’s even a talk about them wanting to film a documentary with us actors talking about the journey and how we think we differ from our character and such. But having options is always good and even if I do get casted and don’t really enjoy the role, I can always turn it down. I look to Hinata and she too is in deep thought but her eyes raise to mine and I rise an eyebrow towards her and she shrugs and nods.

Just when I thought the fake dating was over with…We both say we’d like to audition for this movie and our agents start moving on super speed making phone calls, organizing conferences, booking plane tickets and hotels. The buzz of the Naruto ending was just starting to fade a little and I thought I could have a few weeks off but it seems that’s not in the books for me.

[anywhozits]

Quiet, Princess

thank you so much @thehonestgoods for hosting this I had a blast and am no longer paralyzed with fear of posting my fanfics online anymore BIG WEEK woooo

Rating: M

Words: 2780

Pairing: Kristanna

Prompt: Wild Card (I went for “public” hehe) 

Verse: Canonverse pre-Frozen 2

***please note this has more fluff / “plot” than the last few but like still essentially PWOP***

Sometimes Anna can’t hold herself back when she locks eyes with her sexy mountain man… even at important, stuffy, uppity parties filled with dignitaries and ambassadors and villagers…

Late March marked time for the annual Gåsunger Ball, this year held with high esteem in Arendelle. Elsa was up to her neck in preparations and seemingly oozed stress at the very thought of having to plan and then throw this epic Norwegian gala. Arendelle hadn’t hosted for at least a decade and the pressure threatened to crush Elsa’s chest. 

 Anna had offered her services and actually ended up planning the majority of the details of the ball. The first gåsunger flowers had just started blooming, signifying to the entirety of the northern kingdoms that spring was inching toward them finally, after an especially brutal winter. Working closely with the cooks and bartenders, Anna had solidified the perfect menu, the perfect decorations, the perfect everything. Elsa was grateful, of course, that her paralyzing fear had not gotten in the way of a successful ball, but she felt especially guilty that the only reason this was the case rested on her sister’s shoulders. But Anna didn’t mind. In fact—Anna loved it. She hadn’t been feeling well for the past few weeks and welcomed the party planning distraction with enthusiasm, especially now that the sickness had finally started to go away.

 Wearing a full ball gown dotted with both red and blue flowers, hair braided intricately into a bun, Anna strutted through the ballroom, eventually taking off in a full-fledged run once she saw the elaborate flower and ice patterns that adorned the bar. akevitt, Glogg, and fruit ale were featured most prominently, serving as some kind of a bridge between winter and spring. Anna’s eyes became wide with excitement as she grabbed a tulip-shaped glass of akevitt. And then she shrugged slightly, giggling to herself, grabbing a second glass and pouring it into the first. This ball was her doing, after all. She wanted to celebrate.

 Akevitt was meant to be sipped, but Anna liked to do things her own way. Five big gulps later and she could swear she felt it already. A tap on her shoulder startled her suddenly and Anna spun around to see her dashing boyfriend, Kristoff, standing there with a goofy grin. She noticed immediately that he had dressed up for her, wearing some black and blue tailored suit that someone from the castle must have put together for him. He looked ravishing in a way that made Anna take in a breath.

 “Hello, beautiful,” he said. Purred, more like. Kristoff had a sultry air to his voice that Anna couldn’t deny, and it only made her breath that much more ragged. He leaned in closer to her and gave her a kiss. A brief, quick, somewhat chaste kiss that did nothing but leave Anna wanting more. It was like a flash—a tease. For a split second, Anna felt something shooting between her legs. But then it was gone. As quickly as his lips left hers.

 “You’re—it’s you who’s beautiful, Kristoff.” Anna bit her lip. Smiling at him through her eyes, trying to tell him what she wanted without coming right out and saying it. She took another few gulps of her drink. “This is—delicious. You want some? You should have some. I made sure they brought the very best from Lyshom.”

 “Don’t mind if I do,” he said casually, walking over to get himself a glass. Anna felt the exact opposite of casual. She was antsy. She had something zipping through her body at the very thought of locking eyes with her boyfriend again let alone touching him or kissing him… she took a few more gulps of the akevitt, finishing it with a shudder. Satisfied, she took another deep breath, eventually focusing back on Kristoff. The second her eyes focused on his she felt the familiar sensation again. There was a fire in her belly. A desire that needed to be quelled, with only one certain way to quell it.

 Dropping her empty glass on a nearby table, Anna made her move. She swayed her hips slightly, strutting with purpose up to him, wetting her hungry lips. As her body closed the gap between them, she brought her hand up to caress his cheek gently. Her lips brushed his, innocent enough at first. But then something intense ignited in her core and she could do nothing but deepen the kiss, swirling her tongue around his with a fiery fervor. As she pulled away from him, her teeth bit down on his bottom lip, tugging it with her as she looked at him with all the passion in the world. She smiled at him then, moving closer until her pelvis met his pelvis. She grinded into him, subtly, somehow, and put her right hand between them, stroking him ever so slightly, enough that she felt him growing hard from her touch, enough that she saw him close his eyes and inhale sharply, clearly enjoying himself… that same desire bubbling within his body.

 This didn’t feel fully appropriate. The ballroom was filled with dignitaries and ambassadors as well as Arendellian citizens. While it was possible they paid no mind to the princess and her suitor, Anna also knew that the whispers and gossip around town meant that everybody there was more than just curious about what exactly they did behind closed doors. If, even, they were allowed to be behind closed doors together. The answer, of course, was no. Not technically. They were meant to never truly be alone. But over the years Anna and Kristoff had found a way around the rules.

 On her tiptoes, Anna whispered in Kristoff’s ear, so close that it tickled him, “What do you say? Alcove by the library?” Her hand stroked him again. Top to bottom. Kristoff closed his eyes again. Focus. Don’t get too excited too quickly.

 He couldn’t even find the words. He just nodded ever so slightly, eyes wide. Anna had a characteristic rosy hue to her cheeks that Kristoff recognized as nothing short of tipsiness. She looked brilliant.

 “I’ll meet you there,” she said. They couldn’t leave together or it would raise suspicions. Elsa would probably send Kai or Gerda or … really anybody after them. Or maybe one of the many gala guests would get too curious. But who was Anna kidding? This is what made it fun. This is what made her feel restless, eager. 

She bit her lip, then, satisfied. Ready for some real, palpable risk.

 Anna pivoted in her heels to walk away from him, leaving Kristoff with his half-finished glass of akevitt, with a slightly stunned look on his face. As much mischief as they would get into during these events, he still never quite believed it. Out of all the eligible bachelors in the castle on a night like this, somehow Kristoff was the one the princess of Arendelle wanted to fuck in a dark corner. He smiled mischievously to himself and gulped down the akevitt quickly, hoping all of the guests had moved on from ogling his stolen moments with the princess so he could slip away with ease. Thankfully, they had. But hopefully in the meantime they hadn’t noticed how tight his pants looked.

 Slowly he walked until he finally made it out of the ballroom, sprinting the second the wooden door slammed behind him. He effortlessly located the alcove, one of their favorite mid-party spots, fairly out of sight from the party goers without being completely private. 

Kristoff hardly had time to gather his thoughts before his girlfriend jumped him. She pushed him against the dark wood paneled wall, sucking on his neck, grating her teeth onto his sensitive skin. A primal instinct overcame him, and he yelped. Instantly covering his mouth the second he did. People were a few paces away, walking through the nearby corridor. He could feel the buzz, as could she, and that only made them more excited. That only made this all the more urgent and exhilarating. They couldn’t waste their time. More time meant higher risk. And if anybody saw them… the risk was… extraordinary, to say the least. Kristoff’s knees almost buckled at the thought.

 “Shh…” Anna said, motioning with a finger to her mouth. It was usually Kristoff who had to remind Anna of this. In the safety of the woods or the stables, Anna could fully embrace the fact that she was loud, but during times like these, she had some tricks that helped her reign it in. Kristoff, on the other hand, wasn’t quite as naturally loud, but also lacked almost all control. “We’ve gotta make this quick. I have a feeling Elsa’s looking for me. Call it … sister’s intuition.”

 “I can do quick,” Kristoff said, pressing against her now, showing her how ready he was just from the sight of her.

 Anna sighed quietly into him, reaching down to stroke him again over his breeches.

He let out a small moan but then zipped his lips tight together. Quiet. Right.

 But he was ready and any more of this would take away from the fun he knew they would have a bit later. He pushed her away from him first and then slammed her into the wall. Quickly, he dropped to his knees, clutching the skirt of Anna’s dress and lifting it over his head, scooting under the fabric and letting go, the skirt ultimately falling around his waist.

 He looked up at her, prepared to pull down her drawers ferociously, but his eyes widened in awe as he noticed that she hadn’t worn them at all. She was on display for him, her womanhood there, open, prepared for him and only him. More excitement shot to his member and he felt it pulsating slightly, aching for her. But not now. Not before he gave her a little bit of pleasure first. Perching himself further up on his knees, he took one large hand and pressed it to her clit, rubbing quick circles as his mouth kissed her thighs. His kisses grew closer and closer to his hand and then when they just about met, he moved his hand away, sticking first one and then two thick fingers into her, feeling her growing wetter around him.

 Anna had started rolling into him, her hips moving in a natural rhythm. Her knees felt weak and wobbly, unsure how much longer she could take this. How much longer she could even stand up as he made her feel closer and closer to bursting wide open. Her hand gripped onto the wall to stabilize herself and she inadvertently let out another sigh. Too loud. Her other hand shot up to her mouth and she bit the back of it, knowing this was the only way she had a chance of holding in the sounds she so desperately wanted to let out completely.

 Kristoff’s other hand had found its way to her thigh, and he grabbed on tightly, squeezing, and then moving it backwards, cupping her ass, squeezing again, still working his tongue over her clit, now three fingers inside of her. Anna bucked against him more, feeling waves crashing around her. So close.

 He licked her again, slower now, pulling back slightly and then harder, pushing his fingers deep inside of her, curving them so they hit at just the right angle.

 Anna thought she might scream. She bit down hard on her hand. Not another sound. Quiet. Her legs trembled and she almost whimpered but held it together.

His tongue flicked her clit again and all she wanted to do was scream. Kristoff. Kristoff, Kristoff, Kristoff! But her hand muffled her moans. Almost breaking free when Kristoff sucked gently on her nub, lapping harder, making her dissolve into his touch.

Her knees once again threatened to buckle, her muscles bubbled and twitched and quaked from her toes to her nose. She was left breathless. Complete, whole. Full. Her head fell back to hit the wall behind her.

Kristoff moaned as he felt her body tense around his fingers.

“Kristoff! Shh!” Giggling, Anna kicked him on the thigh.

 But he paid no no mind. 

Trousers newly balled up at his ankles, Kristoff emerged from under her dress, his erect cock hard, pulsating, ready to burst. Anna licked her lips. She needed him inside of her. She needed him to fill her up with his warmth. Kristoff’s hands seized her waist in sheer resolve and he lifted her up as she hiked her dress up around her waist and he rammed her harder into the wall behind her. His arms were hooked around both of her thighs, holding them up so he could find the perfect angle. He teased her, then. Rubbing his cock along her entrance, around in circles, and then pulling away.

 Anna shook her head. She both loved this and hated this. She needed him in that moment more than she needed anything else in life. Her body was crying out for him to complete her. “Kristoff…” She couldn’t stop herself from letting him know exactly how much she desired him. She threw back her head in a moan as the sensation of pulsating between her thighs returned full force. “I need you to—"

 “Quiet, princess,” he purred. Happy that this time he wasn’t the one making the commotion. “You need to be quiet.” Kristoff couldn’t help but smile. He loved that she lacked some control tonight. It made him giddy.

 But Anna couldn’t control herself. She didn’t just want him--she needed him. Today more than any other day. Tonight more than any other night. She needed him so badly. With all the urgency in the world.

 So she said just two more words. “Inside me.”

 He obeyed his princess. He entered her slowly to start, and Anna bit her hand again, feeling a sense of completeness as he filled her. As Kristoff felt her heat surround him, he bit his lip, trying to contain his own moans.

 He picked up speed, thrusting in and out of her quickly, slamming her further into the wall, tensing his buttocks as he did so. Harder. Faster. Faster!

 Kristoff gripped harder on Anna’s thighs, feeling the urge again to cry out, suppressing it only by feeling her smooth skin in his hands. His pelvis had continually hit against her clit, and she felt it again as it crashed through her, lower this time, making her feel exactly like she was dead weight. Like she could sink into the floor and collapse for hours after such a high. When Kristoff felt her waves of pulsating pleasure around his cock, he just about lost himself. The thought of making Anna come again was enough to send him over the edge. He thrusted into her once more, hard, deep… as deep as he could go.

 And then he slowed down, he rolled his body into hers, close now. His body started shaking, overcome by feelings, overcome by joy, overcome by … euphoria, deep inside of her as he filled her with his warmth.

 They stayed there, Anna against the wall, thighs still held up by Kristoff’s ice harvester arms, panting together for what felt like a few minutes. He finally pulled out of her and as his juices started dripping down her thighs, Anna softly cursed to herself.

 “I should’ve worn my drawers…”

 Kristoff laughed, probably a little too loudly. Now that he wasn’t as distracted, he again heard the commotion of the ball and the clattering of busy feet walking in the corridor that was only a few feet away. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll get you a cloth.”

 Zipping her legs together to try to not leave any evidence all over the floor, Anna smiled at him. Noting how rosy his cheeks were now. How flustered and full and … beautiful he looked.

 “I love you, Kristoff,” she said, kissing him as deeply as she could in her current position.

 “I love you, too, Anna.”

 He left her, then, to find her a handkerchief and hopefully not raise too many suspicions. 

But then she was all alone, briefly reflecting on the night. To reflect on him, Kristoff Bjorgman, the man she loved. She hadn’t thought she would be ready to get engaged again for a while. She had told him as much—the time with Hans had been scarring to put it lightly. But now… now she felt ready. She wanted to marry this man. She wanted to marry Kristoff Bjorgman and it both terrified her and made her feel calm and protected all at the same time.

 Even if the rest of the guests didn’t think so, the Arendellian Gåsunger Ball for Anna at the very least was now officially a resounding success. Because it gave her the confidence to have and imagine a future. Somehow, while pushed against a wall in the alcove next to the library, Anna had found her trust again.

[irndad]

lessons in love- b.b.

a/n: unofficial entry for @sgtjbuccky and @jaamesbbarnes follower celebration! i wasn’t able to snag a prompt in time, but i love you guys so much!!

summary: the things bucky barnes has learned while being in love, and the woman who taught him them. (it’s really sweet ur gonna finish w cavities)

wc: ~2k

In the mornings, she glows like starlight.

His mornings are different than they used to be. There was a time, not long ago (especially in the reference of his life), where time wasn’t an object, where days and nights would pass, and he would stay the same, stay in pain, stay chained or frozen or doing nothing he wanted but everything he was told.

It’s a strange kind of lovely, to wake up when he pleases, with sunlight falling all over his body, in the warmth of his own home. Stranger to have this woman, this tiny piece of heaven wrapped up in his arms. It’s golden all over, warm light and sweet vanilla lotion, the memories of laughter and knowledge that more is to come when she wakes.

She wakes as he thinks of it, and turns to look up at him, and he is as in awe of her as he always is. She smiles at him, her hands neatly folded over on her chest, propped up just a little bit. Her little sleepy grin- it’s the prettiest thing he’s damn never seen. Her smile is always so lovely, the first thing he noticed about her. The starburst of her eyes when she laughed, how she did it with her whole body, how she let the joy pull her in like a tide she couldn’t resist.

“Hey there, you,” she says, her finger tracing over his flesh arm. She’s on her back, next to him, and his metal one is on her back.

“Hey,” he says back, dragging her closer. She’s smiling still, warm fingers running up and down the length of the metal, a certain sort of warmth written across her features. SHe’s always been open with him, see, letting her thoughts paint her face like those green lights in the sky.

“What do you want to do today?” her voice is light, soft and sweet like warm butterscotch, and this is a thing she teaches him.

From the moment they met, she offered him the world. Let him decide things, small things, the type of tea they’d drink, which restaurant they’d go to. He’d never had sushi before, and on their third date, when she laughed at him drinking his nose because wasabi is spicy, okay, he felt like-

He felt like it was 1940, like he was the kind of man who knew how to love a girl right, how to be the kind of man who could be what she deserved.

She picks too, all the time, but the luxury of choice, of taking a beautiful girl on a date, in places like a sushi restaurant or a dive bar or a show-

She taught him normalcy isn’t out of the question, in fact- it’s in reach. Healing his happening, before he could even see it coming.

“I don’t think I really want to do anything, today,” he says, “I think you’re all the plans I need.”

____________________________

There is a certain kind of joy that is buried so far within the Winter Soldier, wrapped up in Bucky Barnes, so far from the man anyone could see.

He remembers things, sometimes, in dreams. The way his ma used to laugh, how she’d look at his father like a miracle, how she’d hum and dance while she cooked, and this simple, kind, forgiving love was something he’d known, something even then, had cherished.

And he’d forgotten.

More had it stolen, really. Time’s hard to grasp, and more often than not, he’s not sure if he’s ready to do any of what he does. Not ready to be an Avenger, not ready to be what everyone needs.

And he’d fallen in love, and on a summer day, heat wrapping around their home like a vice, the woman he loves is there.  She is humming, mixing something over the stove, wearing shorts and a tank top, humming something light, along to the radio. They have a little tabletop one, something she found in a vintage shop (which is honestly insulting because he’s pretty sure the thing is younger than him so fuck that). And she’s dancing to some song, and she spins around, dancing slightly to her own music.

She’s really- she’s the stuff stars are made out of, and, everyone is, really.

He knows, cognitively, that she is not so special. She is not the result of some omnipotent being blessing his life with something incredible. He knows she curses too much and burns her mouth on coffee and gets carried away easily.

She’s not perfect. God knows 70 years have taught him nothing is.

But she’s his girl, his girl who laughs too loud and loves too much and dances like no one’s watching even though he’s everything to her.

When he kisses her, he realizes something he maybe already knew. No one feels like enough, no one feels ready or worthy.

But she pulls away, and looks at him like a miracle, and he knows. He knows what’s truly possible.

___________________________

The fact of the matter is, she’s not the kind of woman who sits til, who’s only job is to look pretty and attained galas and be on his arm.

No, she is much more than that, strong and brilliant. She is more than the man she loves, more than her beauty, more than what people see.

But she is only human.

So on the days when she comes home and every over breath is a sigh, a heave of a weight too heavy to carry, he knows this. There are days like this one, where she is tired, and her bright eyes are dampened by stress and a clear sadness. She’s his whole heart, a piece of him, and he wants to gather her up in his arms, love her whole.

She couldn’t do that for him, no one could. He can’t for her.

So instead, he walks closer to her, brushes his left thumb over her cheek, standing between her parted legs, looking down at her with the ghost of a smile crossing his face. She’s sitting, on her desk chair, and he swears he sees tears welling up in her eyes

“Hey, you,” he says, as tender as he can muster. All he can think is give me a smile, please. As if a simple upward curve of lips could fix everything. Fix anything.”

“Hey sergeant,” she says, and there’s the teary voice. It’s his girl though, the one he loves so much, still flirting with him, a bit silly, when she’s the one who should be romanced, swept off her feet.

Because he’s a super soldier, he pulls her up, in a swift motion, and god it’s worth it to hear her quick giggle, and for her to be eye to eye with him.

“I look like a mess,” she says, wiping her eyes quickly, a stray tear or two escaping, rid of like they’re poison.

“You look beautiful.” He says it like an oath. She gives him another smile. “You always do.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re legally required to say that.”

“Didn’t you hear? No governments have control over my brain or anything anymore. I can decide what I want to say,” and he places his hand on the small of her back, pulls her in closer, “And I think you look gorgeous.”

She grins, the littlest thing, and leans her forehead against his.

She trusts him, when he wraps his arms around her middle, and she reciprocates. She trusts him, when he kisses her temple, lets her decide what she’ll tell him and when she does it.

“I love you for so many reasons, though.” He says, because he wants to, and he can. “You’re the loveliest thing I’ve ever known.”

And he taps her chest, with his metal finger, and it’s all so silly, so dreadfully sentimental, his girl crying in his arms and him tapping her heart and telling her what she’s worth to him.

But when she kisses the tip of his nose, and hugs him back, it’s the kind of sentimental, the kind of richness you can excuse having, because it’s worth the sweetness.

Maybe 100 years ago he wouldn’t have known how to do this. He was young and stupid, and even then, he didn’t know how to love right, didn’t know how to be the other half of someone’s heart, how to be what someone like her needs.

It’s an ability he holds close to his heart, and just like so many things, he wants her to have the best of it, best of him, and with any luck, she will.

_________________________

One morning, it occurs to him, slow as the sunrise and warm as the sun. They’re watching something on TV, her head on his chest, her fingers distractedly brushing up and down the length of his arm. She smells like vanilla and gold, and her messy hair is a halo across his chest.

It’s not particularly interesting, the show they’re watching. It’s some random show on Netflix, and she’s focused on the screen, her eyes trained on the characters, and he swells with fondness.

It hits him, her so close to him, wrapped up safe in his hold, that she is the best thing that ever happened to him. He can imagine what the shrill cynic in him would say that he doesn’t have the best of experiences to compare it to.

But she’s a work of art, from the way she laughs, to how she fumbles with her phone to take a photo of him, how they text in post mission meetings, how she calls him Sergeant, how if he ever nicks himself on anything, she puts a band-aid on it even though they both know he will heal within hours.

It’s care and kindness that fills his life, with her in it and the warmth she provides. There’s lessons to be learned about healing and changing and how to love when being whole seems like an incorrect concept. Maybe it is.

“You’re staring,” she says, and it’s a testament to how welcome her presence is that the sudden appearance of her voice is soft like waves upon the sand. Never anything but welcome.

She’s baiting him to do the thing they always do, easy conversation of love and dosmeticity and-

It’s not the right moment. He’s got the ring, and he really should take her to some fancy place, do something that matches the amount of joy she brings to him every second of every day. This is a moment on the couch, watching shitty TV. It’s not the right moment. The ring’s in a different room.

“Marry me,” he says, like it’s the most sacred thing he will ever say.

Her eyes are wide, bright and gorgeous like she’s surprised, but he’s not sure if she’s happy-

“Are you- are you serious?”

“I have a ring- I know I should’ve taken you somewhere, I actually have a reservation and I had this whole speech,” and he’s losing it, what he hoped this would sound like, smooth like vinyl and romantic and what she deserves,  “I just- I want to be next to you. Like this. Forever.”

It’s not enough. Not like the stories she reads. He’s not telling her her smile is the best thing in his world, how the way her hand feels his is the closest thing to peace. He hasn’t told her how she makes him a better man, how he loves her for everything she is, for all the things she’s taught him about life and love.

But when she gives him a watery smile, he has more to be grateful for, because she knows. She’s like that. She knows him.

“I’d be honored to, Sergeant.”

She kisses him then, laughter and tears and messy, hardly picture perfect, but perfect.

Perfect in all the ways a thing can be. In all the ways he’s learned to love.

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