#the very idea of makeup and how women are “supposed” to look is accepted as fucking normal

[aalexan]

women have been conditioned to believe our oppression is “over”. I have had friends tell me they had “forgot” that misogyny even still existed. misogyny is there, every single day in society. our society has been built upon the very foundations of misogyny, of hate and oppression of women. don’t let anyone tell you that women and men are equal now and there’s nothing to be fighting against. we are still fighting.

[emma-needs-attention]

I don’t shave every day. It’s not that I don’t “need” to; I have very dark, dense facial hair that grows quickly and remains pretty visible after shaving. When I do shave, I don’t try to cover it with makeup (beyond some powder to reduce redness). In most other ways I present very feminine, but I always have fairly obvious facial hair.

And it makes me feel terrible.

I started electrolysis a couple months ago. It’s excruciatingly painful, expensive, and it takes forever. In an hour-long session, my electrologist is able to remove hair in only a small region (about 1 square inch). A few weeks later, much of that hair comes back. I am told that it will take two to three years of regular treatments to remove it entirely. On top of that, I apparently have a condition called Post Inflammatory Hyperpigmentation, which causes the skin in affected areas to darken after treatment. For nearly two months after completing a single pass over my upper lip, my mustache was more visible than it had ever been, despite having significantly less hair.

And it made me feel terrible.

I know this is the best way for me to permanently remove my facial hair, but I just canceled all of my upcoming sessions and at the moment I have no plans to begin again.

If I could pay to have my facial hair instantly and completely removed I would empty my savings account. I am intensely aware of it any time I go out in public. If it makes me so uncomfortable, why do I not do more to hide it?

I feel incredibly privileged for a trans woman. I have a loving, supportive family. I have a well-paying job. I live in a very accepting area. I have never had a single person say anything negative to me about my gender identity, which was certainly not what I was expecting when I came out. It is important to me that I be visibly queer, and in my privileged position I am able to do that without fear. A year ago I didn’t think I would ever transition; now I want people to know that I’m trans.

I am disappointed with myself for wanting to remove my facial hair, for changing my voice. I am determined not to have to do more work than a cis person does. Cis women don’t have to shave their face every day. Cis men don’t have to shave their face every day. Why should I? This is who I am, what my body does. Shouldn’t I be proud of that? Am I not supposed to love myself the way I am?

But by that logic, why am I even transitioning in the first place?

I am doing more work than a cis person does. Cis people don’t transition, and transitioning takes effort. I know that there are cis people, both men and women, who do shave every day. Am I lying to myself? I’m a trans woman; aren’t I supposed to want to get rid of my facial hair? Shouldn’t I be trying harder? Doesn’t this give me dysphoria? Am I pretending not to have dysphoria so I don’t have to put in the effort? Does the fact that I’m not trying harder make me… I don’t know, less trans? Non-binary? Is it ok for me to call myself a trans woman? Am I lying to myself?

As a woman who was a man until thirty, there are things about my body that I must accept, that I won’t be able to change no matter how much money I dump into my transition. I’m tall, I have broad shoulders, I have large hands. No amount of surgery or hormones will change these things.

But there are many things that I can change, and while none of them are requirements for being a woman, they may still be changes that I want to make. Where do I stop? Am I finished transitioning when I’ve done everything that is physically possible? My goal isn’t to “pass,” at least not in the way that word is generally used. In a time when cis women are being assaulted because people think they’re trans—because they don’t “pass” as women—the idea of what it means to pass becomes blurry. Often when we say that we want to pass, what we really mean is that we want to be conventionally beautiful.

I am a woman. Therefore, I look like a woman. My transition goal is to pass as myself. I’ve spent the last year trying to figure out who I am so I can look like her. I don’t care whether people see me and think “that’s a woman.” I want to be able to look in the mirror and think “that’s me.” But it can be extremely difficult to separate your own image of yourself from society’s idea of what you should look like. Am I self-conscious about the size of my body because it doesn’t feel like me, or because I’ve been told that women should be smaller? There are tall cis women, there are broad-shouldered cis women, there are cis women with large hands. Those traits don’t make them less womanly.

For the aspects of my body that I do have control over, I am stuck wondering whether I am changing things to become myself, or changing them because I have internalized that the way I am is wrong. At the moment, facial feminization surgery is something that I think I might like to do. But how do I know that I want to do it for the right reasons? I don’t hate my face, but when I catch a glimpse of myself from certain angles I can’t help but think that it isn’t feminine enough. What I should be asking is if it’s Emma enough, but how can I know that? How do I know who I’m supposed to be?

I feel like I was supposed to be a cis woman, but… why? Who am I to say that I wasn’t supposed to be trans? That I wasn’t supposed to transition at thirty, to have both a male puberty and a female one? Being trans has made me more self-aware, more open-minded, more empathetic. The totality of my experience is what makes me who I am. Maybe there’s a world in which I was assigned female, maybe there’s a world in which I was put on puberty blockers as a kid. But the girl in those worlds isn’t me.

Loving yourself and wanting to change are two feelings that can coexist. I tend to think of body positivity as simply accepting yourself as you are, but it is more nuanced than that. As a trans person, who I am inside is not the same as who I am outside. Which one am I supposed to love? I do love myself, but I also love who I could be. I’m transitioning so that someday they’ll be the same person.

Over the past year I have become both my biggest supporter and my biggest critic. I constantly tell myself how pretty I am, how brave I am, how fucking cool I am (hey, nobody else is saying it and it’s true). This forced positivity has been fantastic for me. I can confidently say that I truly love myself for the first time in my life. But I sometimes feel guilty that I don’t love myself more.

I can’t help but stare at myself in the mirror all the time now. I actually bought a new mirror so I didn’t have to walk as far to do so. I’ve taken more selfies than I did in my entire pre-transition life. After many months on HRT, I finally see myself in my reflection. But my eyes refuse to focus on my stubble. Sometimes I catch myself thinking “I’m going be so beautiful once I get rid of this facial hair,” and it feels like a betrayal. Fuck you Emma, I’m already gorgeous.

[spectrechosts]

Dark Ritual

One-off Vandalize prequel, giving a glimpse at a younger Lilith still figuring out what she is and a human... well, I'm sure you can figure out who she is before the end.

Also perhaps the most detailed physical description of a character that I've ever put in the text of a story proper. She can change how she looks on a whim so it's perhaps wasted on her, but I think she generally likes looking like this as a default.

Full Series

Amarezen is to be tribute to a goddess. Which is great! Nobody ever lets her help with anything important, and now she's the most important all because of how cute and lovable she is! She's going to be tribute to a goddess and she'll make her so happy she'll fix the drought they've been having, and everybody is going to be okay!

None of the other tributes seem very excited, and her mother cried when they took her away to prepare, but nobody seems to want to tell her why? Maybe they're worried that this is too important to put in her hands, that she'll mess it up somehow, but her father said that this was something only she could do, so…

She sits still as other women apply makeup to her face, massage perfumed oils into her skin. They style her hair, dress her in some of the nicest fabrics she's ever felt.

And then they bind her hands and feet.

She, uh, she doesn't know why they have to do that, but she's supposed to not say anything and just go along with the ritual and everything will be fine, so it must be fine. Her father said it would all be fine. It's just a little uncomfortable.

At least that seems to be the end of the preparations. Priests have her kneel on a platform and carry her out to the centre of town, all the other tributes carried on their own platforms behind her. They set her down and arrange the other girls in a circle around her, and begin to recite a prayer.

It doesn't take long to get a response. She feels a searing heat wash over her skin, and suddenly there's a hole in the world, and out of it walks the Goddess.

The Goddess is… incredible. She towers over all of them, and her head is adorned with a crown of several twisted horns. Her skin is such a deep, dark purple that it's almost black, and all of it is on display. Amarezen can see a glow, behind her eyes and beneath her skin, as if a violet flame burns within her. She can also see that the Goddess' chest puts her own to shame, which is impressive, but she supposes makes sense for a… fertility goddess?

She's probably a fertility goddess, given the other impressive thing she has on display.

Her father is speaking to the Goddess now on behalf of everyone, but Amarezen isn't listening. She can't take her eyes off her, she's never seen anyone like her before. On her back are huge, batlike wings and a long, thick tail that seems to snake through the air at her command. Her fingers taper into massive claws, and her shoulders and the backs of her arms are decorated with blackened spikes of bone. Her lower legs are plated with the same material, and her feet are those of some giant lizard, talons digging into the ground as she walks.

She is the most beautiful being Amarezen has ever seen.

And she looks so tired.

"I'm not sure what you think you've summoned, but you haven't." She says, lazily cutting one of the other tribute's bindings. "I will not water your fields with the blood of your daughters, nor will I do anything else for you. Do not offer me the souls of others for your own demands, I don't accept such sacrifices anymore."

She slowly walks along the circle, setting free each of the girls before settling on Amarezen as they all flee.

"Oh, look at you, all dolled up in the centre." She says. "Are you the boss' daughter?"

Amarezen nods slowly, and the Goddess frowns.

"How depressing." She says, cutting her loose. "Tell him to bargain with his own life, the next time he has such a foolish idea."

Amarezen nods again, unmoving.

"You can run off now." The Goddess says.

"Okay." Amarezen responds, but she stays in place, transfixed.

The Goddess observes her curiously. "Would you… like to run off now?" She asks.

"…No?" Says Amarezen. "I'm here to be tribute to you!"

The Goddess crosses her arms, and her tail whips through the air behind her.

"I'm not accepting tribute at this time. Your ritual is over, it's done."

"Oh. Okay." Amarezen says. "So… do I have to leave?"

"I… suppose not?" Says the Goddess, bewildered.

"Okay, good! Because, you're- I've never seen anyone as incredible as you, you're so beautiful!"

"You truly think so?" She asks, and then before Amarezen can answer: "You do, I can feel it. I'll have you know, I'm a vile creature. My appetites are endless, my touch defiles- You would desire such a beast?"

"Yyyyyyeeeah? Yeah!" Amarezen answers. "You seem nice!"

"Hmm." The Goddess hums, smiling for the first time since she's appeared. "Well then, you did go through all the trouble of preparing yourself for me."

She lifts Amarezen into her arms effortlessly, and turns her attention back to the crowd.

"I will be staying in your temple with..?"

"Amarezen!"

"-Amarezen. Bring us bedding and wine, perhaps when I am in a better mood I will see about your troubles."

~

"Goddessssssss-!" Amarezen mewls, as she cums again on the Goddess' long, pointed tongue.

"Not what I am." Says the Not-Goddess, between languid licks. "I'm as far from divinity as one gets, mortal. I told you, I'm a monster, born of the sins of man. I devour pretty little things like you."

She crawls up Amarezen's body, eyeing her expectantly.

"O… Okay, just-" She pants. "Just tell me what to call you then?"

The Not-Goddess delights in this answer, her grin showing off sharp fangs.

"You're such an interesting human. I just said I want to devour you, do you not listen? I do not save cities, I raze them to the ground. Your ritual was a terrible mistake. Understand?"

Amarezen pouts.

"Well, I wouldn't call it a mistake." She says. "I thought you were having a good time?"

"That's what you take issue with?" The Not-Goddess scoffs. "I'm having a great time with you, Amarezen."

"Okay, good, me too. And I know you can't end the drought, that's okay."

"Wouldn't if I could. What do I care what becomes of your people?" She says, rolling onto her side and stretching. "Summoning me and making demands like that, the impudence!"

"Rrrright. I guess that makes sense?" Amarezen continues. "And as for me-"

"Oh you, you I would give the world." Says the Not-Goddess, with the sudden intensity of a blazing star. "I mean it, anything in my power- if you desire it, it's yours."

"Really? Why?" Asks Amarezen, wide-eyed.

"Because I like spending time with you, Amarezen. I like the cute noises you make, your taste, the softness of your flesh-"

She punctuates this with the pinpoint pressure of claws digging into skin.

"But most of all, I like how utterly smitten you seem to be. You're not afraid of me at all, even though I keep telling you of my nature. Am I so beautiful that you would throw yourself upon me, knowing I will destroy you?"

"Well, no? I mean, yes but no. I mean-" Amarezen fidgets. "You're very beautiful, but also I don't think you'll destroy me? You keep saying you will, and then you're just nice to me, and so I think you won't hurt me probably."

"Ugh, you have no idea how delectable you are when you say things like that." The Not-Goddess hums sultrily, rolling back atop her. "How am I supposed to resist?"

She kisses Amarezen, and her tongue snakes out from her lips as she slides down her body, and Amarezen giggles and squeals. "Waaaa-iiiiiit! At least tell me what to scream if you aren't going to let me rest!"

"Pretty little mortals like yourself may call me Lilith. Or Mistress." Lilith says, placing a kiss on the inside of her thigh. "And I'll let you rest when you stop being so damned cute."

~

"There's someone outside for you." Lilith says nonchalantly a few days later, after pulling out of Amarezen's spent cunt and reclining into their makeshift nest on the floor.

She hastily makes herself presentable-

Well, half-presentable. The clothes she came in with are unsalvageable, but it's not like it's a secret what she's been doing. Besides, she was meant to be tribute for Lilith anyway, this is just evidence that she's doing a good job! She wraps herself in a blanket and hurries to the temple entrance where one of her former fellow tributes is waiting.

"Oh! Hi! Did you change your mind and want to join us?" She asks, and the other girl grimaces for some reason.

"No, I- We- Everybody was wondering how the Goddess was feeling about fixing the drought?" She asks expectantly.

Amarezen's eyes go wide. "Oh, uh, well-"

"I said I'd think about it when I'm in a better mood." Lilith snaps, appearing out of nowhere and clasping a hand over Amarezen's mouth. "Do you think it a simple thing, to bring the rain?"

"No, no Goddess, of course not-"

"Maybe I should leave, if Amarezen is the only one who enjoys having me here." She continues, her face a mask of godly disdain. "However, she has been very convincing on all of your behalf. Perhaps a minor blessing is called for."

She waves her hand theatrically.

"By my decree, your livestock shall breed and be plentiful. You're welcome." She says, before turning around and carrying Amarezen back into the temple.

"Uh… Thank you?" The other girl calls after them. "But- You're still going to make it rain, right? The livestock thing is really only helpful if you-"

"Yes, yes, all in good time. You mortals, so demanding, ugh."

"Was that true?" Amarezen asks her, back in the privacy of the temple.

"What, the livestock thing? Sure." Lilith says, yawning. "A rather boring use of my powers, but technically within my domain."

"And… the rain?"

"Impossible."

"Okay, so why didn't you let me tell her you couldn't?" Amarezen asks, and Lilith laughs.

"What, and let them run me out of here and sacrifice you in some other ritual that won't help?" She scoffs. "Listen, telling them won't do any good. There's no one they can summon to fix things, and in fact many who would make the situation worse. Why cause trouble for ourselves?" She asks. "Whatever happens will happen regardless of us, so come over here and have some fun with me instead of worrying about it, cutie."

Amarezen looks at Lilith, lounging without a care in the world, cock stiffening as she rakes her eyes over her in turn.

"I'm not worried?" She says. "If you knew how to help you would, right? For me?"

"For you? Of course! I told you, anything you want is yours, if I can give it. If you wish to waste such gifts on those imbeciles, that's your choice." Lilith replies, and Amarezen smiles.

"Okay. Good!" She says, letting the blanket covering her slide off as she mounts Lilith. "Then I won't worry. And I don't want anything else, just getting to be yours is enough, Mistress."

"Fuck, you are just the most perfect mortal." Lilith sighs, as Amarezen sinks onto her cock. "Where have you been all my life?"

~

"What's it like, where gods are from?" Amarezen asks one night, on the edge of sleep.

"Not a god." Lilith reiterates. "And I'm not allowed where one lives."

"Really? Why?"

Amarezen feels Lilith's grip on her tighten, squeezing her into her chest.

"I was cast out. Because I…" She stops, shaking her head. "Ugh, no, because god's a son of a bitch, is why. I don't want to talk about it."

"Okay." Amarezen mumbles. "What's it like where you live?"

"I… don't know." Lilith says. "You've summoned me at a strange time, it's- It was an awful, awful place."

"Why?"

"Because I made it one. I know I keep saying this and I know you don't believe me, but I really am an awful, monstrous thing. One of seven greater demons, made to torment humanity until the end of time." She says, quietly.

For the first time, Lilith seems… small. Fragile. And what she's saying is, well it's a lot, but…

Amarezen feels so safe in her arms. And she-

People tell her that she's too trusting, sometimes, but she's almost certain this isn't one of those times. Lilith looked so tired when they summoned her, and she's looked so happy while she's been staying here, and- Amarezen isn't good at a lot of things, but she's good at people. She knows, she knows, that-

"It can't be all bad, if you're in charge." She murmurs, and Lilith releases a shaky breath.

"Yes, it's- I don't know. I'm… changing, a lot of things. Trying to make it nicer. To be nicer." She says, finally relaxing her grip a little. "I decide what I am. Not him." She adds quietly, more to herself then to Amarezen.

"Sounds nice." She says, almost entirely asleep. "Maybe I can come see it."

"Hah! That's- I don't know about that." Lilith chuckles.

And then Amarezen sleeps.

~

It's raining!

Not a lot, not directly here anyway, but the river is teeming! The drought is ended!

"Yes, yes, you're all welcome. Thank Amarezen, she was very pleasing to my godly tastes." Lilith says, when celebrants come to the temple; and then later, when they're alone: "Fucking finally, we were getting close to an angry mob kills the false god situation there."

Amarezen giggles, but she feels… conflicted. She should be happy, but she can't help thinking that this means…

"You… have to leave now, don't you?" She asks.

"Oh, sweet Amarezen…" Lilith hums, gently taking her into her arms. "Not right away, but… yes. Your people were already getting sick of me taking over their temple, this is but a momentary reprieve."

"I'll miss you." Amarezen says glumly.

"I'll miss you too. In all my endless years reigning over my circle, I don't think anyone's ever made me feel the way you do."

"Then… can't we stay together?" She asks, and Lilith sighs.

"They'll drive me out, Amarezen. I'm not a goddess, how will they react the next time there's a problem I can't solve, when I've taken advantage of their hospitality for so long?" She asks.

"We don't have to stay here, you could take me with you!"

Lilith laughs, and then sighs again.

"My realm isn't somewhere people go by choice, Amarezen."

"Why not?" Amarezen asks.

"It just isn't."

"Well, I'm choosing!" She insists.

"Amarezen, it's not- You couldn't survive there, it is a place for those I have damned and those I have broken and twisted into my likeness."

Amarezen pauses for a moment.

"The twisting, I pick the twisting, that sounds better." She says, nodding thoughtfully.

"Amarezen, people don't want to- to be like me." Lilith says, through happy tears. "You ask me to destroy you, to drag you to hell, just to spend eternity by my side?"

"Yeah!" Says Amarezen, beaming.

Lilith sniffles.

"Okay. Okay! We'll- It might hurt, at first, and it might take some getting used to, but I swear, I won't make you regret this!" She says, hugging her tightly.

"I know you won't."

~

"You wanted to see me, Mistress?"

"Azaerixia! I have important business to discuss with you."

Azaerixia pouts.

"Oh no, did I mess up a contract again? I swear all the ones I've been making recently have been-"

"No, no, nothing like that, come here." Lilith says, evaporating her desk into a wisp of black smoke and opening her arms.

Azaerixia eagerly jumps into her, holding her tight and snuggling into her chest.

"Oh, wonderful Azaerixia, first to touch my blackened heart…" Lilith hums, and Azaerixia's cheeks turn a deep scarlet as her tail begins wagging.

"Ohmygod stooooop…" She giggles, squirming. "Any of the girls could have done the same! I'm not special, I'm old!"

"You're not old, you're what, 19?"

"Plus eight or nine thousand years, yeah." She says.

"And still as beautiful as the day I met you." Purrs Lilith.

"Stoooooooooop I can't blush any harder!!!" Azaerixia whines. "What's gotten you all sentimental?"

"You remember when we met?" Lilith asks, and she shrugs.

"Well enough, sure."

"And I promised you I would give you anything you desired, for being with me?" Lilith says, and Azaerixia nods.

"Yeah, and I said being with you was all I wanted..?" She says.

Lilith grins, giddy. "You did!" She says. "But you can want more than one thing, and I keep my promises."

"Okay?" Says Azaerixia. "Where are you going with this?"

Lilith grins even wider as she gently pushes Azaerixia off of her and gets out of her chair.

"I had to call in some substantial favours, for this. And if anyone asks, you lie through your teeth, okay?"

"Okay???"

Lilith holds out her cupped hands, and from a tiny portal a soul falls into them. She sets it gently upon the ground, and it begins to project the body it had in life, ghostly light knitting together into physical form until between them stands-

Azaerixia gasps with delight.

A puppy.

She has no words, she just shakes her hands out in front of her as her tail wags up a storm. It's the cutest little yorkie she's ever fucking seen and she can't even begin to-

"How?" She manages to squeak out, as she nervously stills one hand and holds it out for the puppy to sniff.

"Substantial favours, significant rulebreaking- I mean it, if anyone asks, this is not a real puppy. Call it… extremely deep, full-time puppy play. This thing is very much not supposed to be down here."

"Oooooh you're just the cutest little guy!" Says Azaerixia, as the puppy licks at her knuckles. "I'm gonna show you to everyone and they're all going to love you so so so so much!!!"

"No, you- Listen, no one outside of the palace, okay?" Lilith asks, nervously.

"Yeah yeah totally oh my god Liliiiiith you're the best I love you so much a puppyyyyyyyyy!" Azaerixia squeals, petting it. "His fur makes it look like he has a widdle moustacheeeeee…"

She coos at it for a bit longer, before dispelling the projected body and spiriting the soul off somewhere else.

"Wait, why-" Lilith starts.

"No puppy should see the things I'm about to do to you." She says, pulling her underwear down her legs under her skirt. "Clear your schedule for the next few days, I mean it."

Lilith snorts.

"Glad you like it, darling."

[sapphos-darlings]

https://www.tumblr.com/sapphos-darlings/675496447908675584/imagine-that-when-you-were-born-your-entire-family?source=share the issue is, i kinda was raised that way. my parents were happy to have a daughter. i was given the toys i wanted, and i liked both "girly" and "boyish" ones. i was praised for my curiosity, creativity, pursuit of knowledge. i was called a leader type. my period was celebrated (and when i got my first period, my mom bought me a huge pizza). yet i am still traumatised by femininity standards. it's great when your parents treat you with kindness, but there will always be people who don't. not to mention that, for some reason, my mom was all i described above, yet still forced feminine appearance on me when i was a teenager (makeup, hair, clothes). the issue runs so deep it's horrifying. i also have adhd, and i was pretty much the "boy" standard, loud, hyperactive, disrespectful towards teachers... but for some reason, that didn't give me an early diagnosis...

Hello, Anon!

I've been expecting and sort of hoping for a message like this! The thing is, that post is one of my (as in, by mod Lavender) most popular posts, it circulates a lot whenever someone finds it, and it's also sparked a lot of commentary. But despite this, I personally don't consider the post a very succesful one.

I've been reading the tags and comments, and many have shared their experiences, not very different from yours. Stories about how no matter how great the home was, there was still the wider world with its prejudices waiting; that getting a good and loving upbringing didn't undo gender stereotypes pushed on female people outside the immediate family.

The post has genuinely moved some women, which I'm happy about, while others have been deeply frustrated, some even offended and angry. I suppose when a post like that gets a lot of notes, that's inevitable.

But the reading the post has been getting isn't one that I was aiming for.

My original idea was to imagine a girl growing up in a matriarchy. Matriarchy would have its own set of norms that would be just as accepted and natural as the current ones we live under. So what would a society where the girls are a priority look like? That would mean no concept of patriarchal femininity. I think she would be valued for her inner qualities, encouraged to explore and learn a wide range of skills, and free of fear and shame targeting the female body and sexuality. She would enter adulthood ready to live her own life to its full potential, without being weighed down by expectations of servitude or fear of being out of line. So seeing so many readers focus only on the personal level, I can't help but feel that my original intention didn't come through like I had hoped.

While writing, I was thinking of various things I've read about how girls and boys are raised differently. On such thing was a study that showed how adults are more likely to pick soft toys for female toddlers, while male toddlers were given stuff like building blocks and toy cars even though they all had the same selection available to them. I vaguely remember the study pointing out that heavier toys made with hard materials and moving parts are more interesting and help develope fine motor skills, whereas plushies don't provide the same benefits. And of course, socializing boys to take interest in mechanical stuff, being creative, and taking initiative starts already at this stage, while girls are directed towards playing the nurturer and being cute. So, in my mind, the points about how a family would raise the girl, what kind of toys she gets, and how the teachers and peers would react to her growing up, connected to society as a whole, not simply to choices made by an individual family.

Many women in the tags and comments have shared, like you, that their family gave them pretty much all that my original post lists, but that didn't mean they were immune to societal and cultural influences. Which I definitely agree with: it is a very valuable insight to just how much power society outside of family units holds. How just one family - or even just your mother - can't undo what the society and culture as a whole pushes.

And because I agree, I thought I had succesfully imagined that it's not just the family that celebrates the girl, but the culture as a whole. The culture would be what guides the family, instead of the family desperately going aganst the culture.

In the end, I'm happy that so many women have been so moved by the image I painted with that post. I'm also glad it's sparked so much conversation, and even debate. My original intention didn't come through like I wanted to, but that's fine. For some time I've thought about adding commentary to the post itself, but ultimately decided not to interfere with it, but leave it to the community as it is. Regardless of what I intended to do, I think that the conversation the post sparked is so valuable it deserved to unfold without me cutting in to explain myself.

So thank you for your message, and for this opportunity to say something about it! Thank you for sharing your experience, it's all very valuable to women as a whole.

-Lavender

[hypnolurker]

Brand New Barbie

ORIGINAL IMAGE HERE

Rihanna could hardly believe it when she was contacted by a representative from the illustrious toy manufacturer Mattel. They genuinely wanted her to become their next barbie! That’s exactly what they said. She had heard that they were expanding the range of toys finally to showcase beautiful women who don’t fit their dumb blonde bimbo stereotype and they actually wanted her to model for a new barbie! Ever since she was a little girl she wished she had a doll that looked like her and now her dream was coming true.

Her pearly white teeth sparkled as she beamed out a great big smile to the receptionist at the design studio they sent her to. She wondered if it was a coincidence that the receptionist looked almost exactly like she was one of the company’s old dolls. Everything from her platinum blonde hair and pouty round lips to her frankly oversized breasts which strained against her top, just begging to burst out. Not that Rihanna was staring or anything they were just difficult not to notice, especially with the way she stuck out her chest and made them bounce slightly as she giggled like a schoolgirl.

“Omg you are totally lucky you get to be a pretty barbie doll! I’m jelly! Like, go through that cute pink door there and the super cute makeup guys will get you ready!” The receptionist its chirped in a high pitched voice.

Still smiling, Rihanna thanked the receptionist and made her way to the other room, still trying not to think about the bubbly bimbo’s bouncy breasts as she entered into what seemed to be a pink fog. Immediately her head was swimming as the door was closed behind her and men began to surround her. Various makeup implements were thrust into her face and an explosion of powder blocked her vision and flooded her lungs as she inhaled. Breathing out a pink mist she quickly grew lightheaded and her body started to sway.

Hands reached up to grab her. Propping her up or…no…groping her flesh…she couldn’t really tell what was happening. The pinkness swirled and whirled around her vision and her perception of time was thrown out of sync. All she could seem to do was gasp and sigh as she felt the hands all over her. Squeezing, rubbing, fingers running smoothly over her bare breasts, little pink bubbles popping in her head as they flicked her nipples.

Wait, when had she become topless? How many hands were there? What was she supposed to be here for again? Everything in her mind was mired in a gooey pink marsh, so thick a hard to dig out any sensible thought. It was easier to just push her chest out and let the strong masculine hands do their work. Let her eyes roll back as her blurred sight was completely overwhelmed by the pretty pink colour.

With a deep exhale of pink mist Rihanna came back to her senses. Her eyes rolled back down and she slowly adjusted to her environment, still somewhat dizzy and very confused. A man (one of the ones whose hands were all over her?) approached and handed her a small, plastic doll. It had shiny skin with a slim figure, rounded hips and large, perky tits. The hair was blonde and the expression was that of a ditzy bimbo. It looked just like any previous barbie, in fact maybe it was.

“Our new barbie is finished.” The man explained confidently. She wasn’t sure why but Rihanna found his voice strangely penetrating. Trustworthy. Just the idea that it was a man talking seemed to make her feel at ease and accepting.

“B-but this isn’t…uh…it doesn’t look like me.” She stuttered out, trying to put her finger on what was different about her voice. It was…higher…more breathy and seductive perhaps? Not to mention her lips seemed heavier and fuller. They rested naturally in a slightly open O-shape that she hadn’t noticed until now.

“What do you mean, Barbie? You look exactly alike. A perfect copy. Such a pretty little doll.” He said with a grin.

“Pretty little doll.” She mouthed silently in response as she tried to get her head straight. Something in the back of her mind was concerned but for some reason his words slid right into her brain like well lubed cock into a slick pussy…where did that thought come from? What was he even talking about her looking like this dumb bimbo dolly.

“Have a look for yourself, Barbie.” He said, pointing her towards a large mirror.It almost slipped past her again but this time she noticed….he called her Barbie! Before she felt like she should just accept it. After all he was a smart man and she was just a pretty little doll. Uh wait that seemed wrong. Plus her name wasn’t even Barbie! It was Ri…no uh…Hannah? That wasn’t right. Whatever she did the name Barbie kept floating around her head. Whatever, he called her Barbie and something told her that she should obey him.

In bewilderment she gawked at the mirror, not recognising the woman staring back. She was young and petite with a glazed over, dull eyed bimbo type of look. Inflated tits almost popping out from under the small top that just about stretched far enough to cover her nipples. The rest of her body was naked, a sheen on her skin she had only seen in photos or on dolls and even a droplet of clear liquid rolling steadily down the inside of her thigh.

“Who…who is…” Barbie trailed off as she ran her hands up to her tits and fondled them softly, moaning sensually as her freshly manicured fingertips played with her hard pink nubs. At the same time the airhead in the mirror copied her every move and Barbie quickly realised that it was definitely her reflection.

“That’s right Barbie. You’re such a good doll. Men will love to play with you.”

His voice was honey. Words trickling through her hollow head and clinging to the sides. Good doll. Barbie was a good doll. She continued playing with her nipples and emitting long, high pitched moans from her glistening pink, parted lips as the man reached down to his zipper. Barbie didn’t know what was happening until she felt the fleshy throbbing head pressing against her pillowy lips and sliding easily into her hungry throat with a smutty slurping noise. In moments she was eagerly swallowing his dick with vigorous bobbing motions and sloppy suction sounds.

The newest Barbie was complete.

[catsniffer420]

i never understood the “joke” about “take her swimming on the first date”. like if you don’t like makeup, how about just don’t date a woman who wears makeup? i could go deep into this but i’m supposed to be doing data analysis rn but it just irked me. and i don’t wear makeup and largely consider myself anti cosmetics (i used to wear it all the time and had a very dysmorphic/insecure relationship with my appearance due to beauty culture!!) because i believe it’s an industry that profits off of insecurities and selling the idea that you Need to consume/purchase products in order to “be yourself” “look your best” etc. but like damn if it really bothers you just don’t date people who wear it.

or is it not about the makeup itself and rather more about humiliating a woman who is clearly already insecure. it’s so much kinder to respect someone wherever they are at in their journey, and encourage unconditional self-acceptance rather than promoting ideas of “ makeup=good / bareface=humiliating/ugly” UGH

it’s so bizarre seeing the partiarchal push to make women feel Pressured to conform to beauty standards whilst simultaneously hating them and humiliating them for conforming to those very standards. the only way to win is to opt out of the fuckery altogether in my opinion but i know it’s not that simple for everybody

[the-firebird69]

Her Majesty (Remastered 2009)

He wants to put a replica of one of the abbeys and is about everybody fighting to trying to send I think it's a good idea it's going to be on Abbey road in New Vegas but it's going to have her full name and they might be another road Abby road design input it's after her and she was saying it and it's a great idea. Las Vegas is kind of a dumb cuz you can't get there you can't get to the casinos it takes too much effort and you're walking and walking and visit maybe 20 ways to get across and there's ways to take tunnels and a seven or more or so Cross roads from the express lane in the middle it sounds like enough. Cuz in the strip is like roadways and parking lots and park and ride it's probably the way to go and there's two strips he's thinking about an outdoor people mover or a tunnel that's top side it's like a corridor safety glass and you could get on and off just like the airport or you can walk through it and then Clement weather. Now you don't have to have security and to make that happen is going to have scooters to rent we can buy drinks and food newspapers having a shoe shine anybody outdoors with the carts too. And the wall is like a shrine and it's for her input and she would decide where it would go and how big it would be or they said they would get together on it it would have to be a certain casino of course it might even be ours and now she's excited about it. And she's from Ben Arnold's side and she looks like our son's great grandma. So people are wondering and yeah she's still around and may have been the one with a knife at the bowling alley and she has a good ideas and she helped with the lawn mower that's what worked and they work together and stuff so now Abby wants to and she's made a name for himself and her mom is actually pink and it's been Arnold's wife and not his sister. And yeah they'll look almost identical great grandma and her so she's going to have to have the same thing and be immortalized for the idea and it's the minis. They both have odd names she's pretty big almost 9 ft really that's why she's chunky. Do you have a street name is a very big input and there's an area that has these cars these minis in Britain like a block, with several mini dealerships and we're going to offer her one and she'll probably accept it Jesus and a casino opportunity just dropping chips on himself and she says the moulin rouge and now that was what he was saying. Aren't you says nothing rude so she has to come up with it and he thinks the women were going to have something and Hera is in on it and Abby is now in on it thank you casinos yeah somehow attached to a shopping area there's a lot of women's necessities in upscale items a Gucci bags Paris Hilton makeup decenza diamonds and so they get that. They like certain cars too but they would be elsewhere but you can put one in the lotus esprit and cars like that high performance mini the jazzed up mustang certain Ferraris and then we put them in there any requested dealer and the dealer would have to make a deal cuz they be selling cars.

We're going to put this in print in preliminary agreements and pink has an idea additional to the dealership. You make a lot made for minis and he didn't wait till she finished and it says sub contact and it's true never a real small cars and need to put a rental place there for rent minis and renting mini homes and cottages and also he says about time people are using the cooler it's not supposed to be warm inside a morgue and it's true. It's on the TV show NCIS San Diego and also they'll be sales of tiny homes and mini homes mobile homes we might try his relocatable homes and they're laughing and have like a showroom with all this mini stuff in it but the sales place would be down the road and it would show what they have all sorts of stuff trailers campers attachments accessories doodads upgrades travel carriers sticker kits anything to think of they're going to put this up and they're thinking of a casino for each of them I don't know maybe we should do it as a consortium and do the jewelry accessories necessities and a spa and our son said the last part

Thor Freya

We like these ideas they like to go to places like that and buy our ladies things I need to be the most likely hanging around with us cuz he be forced to. Trying to start my ideas and one of them is to head up Big Joe's pancake House and have the big cup of joe coffee brand and everything and Mac wants to help so I get that

Big Joe I think the ideas are wondrous and we should pray

That's terrific and we should

Pink

Olympus

[genetierneysattorney]

i dont think they made ally sheedy any more or less feminine at the end of the breakfast club - her character's outfit at the beginning was just as feminine, really. just because it was darker and more layered doesn't make it less feminine, unless you believe the only indicators of femininity are pink and lip gloss. the reason people are unhappy with the change isnt that "oh pink is bad and makeup is wrong >:( " its that allison had a unique style and personality - that the other characters learned to accept and even like - and then at the end we get this washing out of her unique traits. the story took what was a very unique character and style and then at the end went "anyway now that we've all learned to care about and respect each other even with and indeed because of our differences, here's the fun unique quirky girl! we've taken the cinematographic indicator of her uniqueness (her clothing style) and removed it to look like the other female character. isnt that great!"

it has nothing to do with a hatred of femininity or misogyny and more to do with the fact that the transformation is at odds with the whole point of the story - that being different from each other is good. also, allisons style was very cute and it was sad to see it go.

As someone who related pretty hard to Allison when I first saw it, it never occured to me that I should think the makeover erased her individuality. I never got the idea that brushing your hair and wearing some color is so powerful it completely transforms your identity, particularly in someone like Allison who already had a very strong sense of personhood (although admittedly it's not as standout as her look before). Maybe because I don't limit myself to one style. Although I admit I have no idea what the guy in the tweet is talking about 😭

But the whole point was Allison was unhappy, insecure and used her look as a shield against others- so her accepting a new look from Claire was letting her guard down and accepting this toke of friendship from someone she didn't think she had anything in common with and it was a touching moment between the two. I suppose you're right and not all the critics hate it bc it's girlier, but it's inarguably a more femme look, and in my experience people who bash femme things or anything associated with women do tend to do it bc of their own issues with femininity. Some of the hate mail I've gotten seems to back that up. But to me it's as silly as, for example, those people claiming that Lola Bunny not having big boobs anymore makes her masculine. Maybe if we get a reboot, Claire can do something that fits better with Allison's own aesthetic while still being new?

(It also wasn't for Andy, and that's what gets me, how people are dishonest and pretend it was "just for a guy" when Andy had nothing to do with Claire offering to do it. 😕)

Plus, she can just change whenever she wants- the shirt at least is clearly her own too- and probably will. Unlike Sandy's which seems to be more permanent as well as not for the better (and people always seem less bothered by her radical change that Allison's for some reason).

Thank you for being respectful, btw. You've changed my perspective more than the other people who've been just insulting me ¯_(ツ)_/¯

[kaypeace21]

Big brain moment for me: is realizing one of the main reasons Mike dislikes Max is because she's (subconsciously) a constant reminder that he isn't straight.

Dustin and Lucas are immediately into Max . And Mike questions this (since they don’t even know her). Mike"awesome??!you haven't even spoken a  word to her! " Dustin (already crushing): " Hey! I don't have to . I mean LOOK at her." 

*MIKE LOOKING HELLA CONFUSED XD

Troy (the homophobic bully, talking about el): "her head's shaved . She doesn't even LOOK like a girl." 

(Not to mention all the people who also thought she looked like a boy and specifically thought she was Will- aka hopper, benny, and the diner customer).

We also know Dustin is remarking about Max’s physical appearance in that ep1 scene since this videogame-scene  also occurs in s2e1 (the same ep Max is introduced) . This videogame- scene has  lucas and Dustin fight over princess Daphne -and Lucas mentions how “princess daphne” is his. Foreshadowing the ending of  the love triangle between the 2 boys (in relation to Max) .

 What’s interesting is that historically dragon’s lair (was a nototriously difficult game)- and they used princess daphne’s attractiveness to convince straight-boys to continue playing the difficult game and waste their money .This is because, if the player finished the game- they would save and also marry  princess daphne. 

 But what’s interesting is - Dustin plays it, and it’s implied Lucas has played the game the most (and even finished the game to get Daphne). However, we never see Will or Mike play the game or get sucked into Daphne’s ...appeal. In fact (right after this) Mike instead puts his arm around Will and suggests they get the top score in dig dug TOGETHER (and beat madmax’s top score instead). Not to mention in s1 Mike wrote a whole d&d story for Will-inspired by star wars/the events of s1 and replaced  princess Leia with a king (aka Will). The king has a medal ceremony for the heroes since they k*lled the 7 headed monster for him ( Will: ”it was a 7. The demogorgan it got me″). Mike is not into princesses (he literally replaced a women crushed upon by nerdy/star wars fan boys) and replaced her with a king. connecting it even more to his lack of interest in the princess videogame/girls in general (and interest in Will) .

* These little details in ep 1 show how Mike isn’t like Dustin or Lucas. He doesn’t understand Lucas/dustin’s immediate attraction to daphne or Max in ep 1 (based on their feminine looks). Some people may claim he was attracted to El in Nancy’s dress/his grandma’s wig but i think this had more to do with the fact at that time El looked like the blonde popular girl jennifer hayes (who Lucas/Dustin were into). And so the idea of a girl who liked him (who looked like the most popular girl in school- who his friends were into )was appealing to his ego. Lucas (to Mike, referring to el while she is in her wig,dress, and makeup): “you’re just blind. Blind cause a girl isn’t grossed out by you.” Mike  in s1 even later specified he preferred her without the wig/makeup. He says in the wig/dress she’s “pretty” but when El removes all of it she asks “Still pretty?” And he says YEAH! pretty. REALLY pretty.” And sorry his compliment to her at the snowball seemed pretty rehearsed/forced. Just like how he refers to her fem look in s3 as “cool” (like how Hopper says El’s new punk look is “cool”).  In s3 we even have Lucas dress like the karate kid (cause max has a crush on him), nancy dresses based on 'new age' music (jonathan likes), so why does max imply El dresses in baggy male clothes for mike ? Saying about picking clothes " chose stuff that feels like you...not mike." Maybe cause mike prefers her dressing in a more masculine way?

Anyways, back on topic.  s2e1 shows Mike doesn’t understand his friends immediate attraction to Max and Daphne’s feminine appearances and this ties back to Mike’s animosity to Max in the following s2 eps.

 Later mike yells at max "hate you? How can I hate you? i don't even KNOW you!" (Mirroring what Mike said earlier to the smitten Dustin -when Dustin remarked on how he doesn’t really have to know her to think she’s awesome because he found her physically attractive). Mike says this comment to Max- when in canon Mike knew both el and Max for the exact same amount of time -a week . So somewhere in his subconscious he realizes crushing on el (who he ‘doesn't even know’) based on her then "boyish" look /will like appearance (after only knowing her a week) means something. Cause his straight friends (at least initially) are into Max for her more feminine appearance (after also only knowing her for a week) .And Dustin and Lucas were never into the boyish looking El (in s1- like they were with max in s2). So yeah every time Mike sees her - he's reminded that (in canon) he unlike his friends has never crushed on a single girl (except one who resembled a boy/ his male bff). Which (at least subconsciously) agitates him to think about. Max in response to him saying he doesn't hate her. Max: but you don't want me in your party! Mike: correct! Max: why not? Mike: CAUSE YOU’RE ANNOYING!To mike- max's very presence is a constant reminder he's not straight. Her presence makes him at least subconsciously start to think about things- he'd rather not. Like why he was attracted to the boyish looking el (who resembled Will) but not max, princess daphne, or any girl prior?

In s1 we know Mike knows what "gay" , 'fairy', and 'queer' is- all words he heard as insults towards Will . And eventually Mike snaps and attacks Troy for a specific  hom*phobic comment making fun of Will being dead. Where Troy says,  “Will’s in fairy land now. flying around with ALL THE OTHER FAIRIES. All happy and GAY!” . He attacks Troy in the school gym for subconsciously reminding him he’s gay -same place he yells at Max for doing the same thing. EL EVEN attacks both Max and Troy in the gym using her powers! (cough next time Mike saw Troy he literally flew from where Will ‘died’. (aka like ‘all the other fairies’. Troy even told Hopper Mike “flew” . That is another  Mike is gay hint ) . So he probably doesn't even want to fathom the possibility he may be gay or in love with his male best friend (when taught it's something 'bad' by his peers and 80s society as a whole ). Especially when he sees how people already malign Will over such rumors.

So to Mike - Max is the personification of the thing he lacks - the ability to be attracted to girls-the innate ability to be what most deem 'normal'. The ability to be like his friends. And he sadly resents her for this.

Then in s3 max encourages el to dump him ( and says to Mike it's not just a break). And constantly points out how mileven just isn't that great- she yells at Mike about how he doesn't trust el nor respects her ability to make decisions. And tells el that he lied to her. And she also points out to Mike- how el was the one who decided to spy on him (and disrespect his privacy/boundaries). And even worse for Mike's straight facade with El (max gives El a feminine makeover in s3). Something he’s not genuinely attracted to.  

 To Mike(at least subconsciously)- she is a constant reminder that he’s not straight (in s2). And in s3, she points how the flaws of his comp het relationship with el .Which infuriates him .

So when Mike starts to accept his queerness- I suspect their relationship will improve.

Heck The fact MAX & Will also have a lot in common (but he’s only attracted to Will- a boy and not Max) could be another subconscious reminder he’s not straight (Which causes an additional layer of resentment).For max & Will: Both are poor,  their bio dads both abandoned them leaving them with their respective mothers, both like horror films, comics and videogames, both are the youngest of 2 siblings.  And both use bats in anger when emulating their ab*sers ,and both are heavily associated with rainbows (Max literally has a rainbow shirt collection/ Will's rainbow ship and the many other rainbow refs).  Both also yell at Mike about how sh*tty they think the mileven relationship is in s3. Both have posters relating to beach films (Will has jaws /Max has endless summer).Costume designers said his s1's vest was supposed to be in homage to Marty mcfly (from back to the future). They gave Max Marty mcfly's skateboard in s2.And on Halloween she even dresses up as a movie-character who as a child dressed up as a clown on Halloween (Will’s fear/ what triggered him on Halloween) and whose surname is Myers (Byers?)  

I also think Mike was a bit jealous and initially thought Will was into her too. But I think the prior reasons I just discussed was actually the main reason for the animosity.

UPDATE

*this annon pointed out a detail that pretty much just verified my first assumption.To mike- max's very presence is a constant reminder he's not straight-similar to troy doing the same thing (albeit for very diff reasons ). Her presence (and his inability to have a crush on her-like Lucas &Dustin do) makes him at least subconsciously start to think about things- he'd rather not. Like why was he attracted to the boyish looking el (who resembled Will)? And who he barely spoke to, and in his own words he “didn’t even know’ cause he only knew her for a week? But NOT max (who he knew for the same amount of time),and who Lucas/dustin have immediate attraction to/ think is “awesome”  without talking to her (because of their feminine looks) .To Mike - Max is the personification of the thing he lacks - the ability to be attracted to girls-the innate ability to be what most deem 'normal'. The ability to be like his friends

We see this by the use of one word....

Having Max in s2 mention how Mike thought El was “awesome”  . Is just icing on the cake- showing she’s a reminder to Mike he isn’t straight (and his romantic feelings for El aren’t genuine). She literally threw Mike’s words back at him-where Mike was judging his friends for thinking Max was “awesome” because of her looks-not words.When Mike did the same to El.

Lucas even says the ‘no/yes’ line next to Mike’s heart sign (which has a rainbow propelling a heart on it). In s3 (when dating el) he removed this sign.  But symbolically we see it follow him everywhere -via El’s room having a drawing with a rainbow propelling a heart on it- with Mike’s name on it.  Which is shown when he’s kissing El- showing no matter how hard he tries to act straight-he can’t escape his rainbow/ queerness.

In fact,in s3, when Max points out the flaws in m*leven she is wearing  rainbow shirts (illustrating that she -like the rainbow-sign & drawing is a constant reminder to Mike that he’s not straight -which  follows him everywhere). Similar to Troy who (in his rainbow shirt) interrupts Lucas claiming Mike has a crush on El- only to announce Will is gay/ and to only target Mike with such remarks after this .

Not to mention this whole -Max reminding him he’s not straight and can’t like girls in s2-3 just ties in to my theory Mike was projecting when telling Will “it’s not my fault you don’t like girls.”-here. And the whole theory Mike is emulating his parent’s  loveless marriage with El-mentioned it here.

[tressasinterlude]

𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐓 #𝟑: Female Public Figures Dating Men with Questionable Views That Contradict Their Image & Alleged Politics

𝗗𝗜𝗦𝗖𝗟𝗔𝗜𝗠𝗘𝗥: These rant blog posts are really just reflective of my thoughts at the time that I make them and are posted here because I need an outlet to release all of this shit I have going on my busy ass mind. That’s it and that’s all. Now let’s get into it..

This rant was greatly inspired by none other than Ms. Robyn Rihanna “Tell Your Faves To Pull Up [in regards to social injustices directly affecting black people]” Fenty and her openly colorist boyfriend, A$AP Rocky. Aside from the fact that Rihanna tends to slip under the radar and is never held accountable for her problematic ways due to her conventional beauty (i.e. Her heavy usage of anti-Asian slurs, particularly targeted towards Chris Brown’s ex gf, Karrueche), it’s very alarming that a woman who has an entire makeup brand with a campaign based around the inclusivity of ALL black women is publicly flaunting a beau who once said that DSBW do not look good with red lipstick.

And yes, I’m very much aware that Rakim said this tasteless comment over 8 years ago but from the looks of it, not much has really changed with him. Don’t @ me about it neither because I don’t care.

Also peep how he compares a hypothetical darkskinned woman to a man (Wesley Snipes) while trying to explain how his antiblackness isn’t wrong because he said something about white women as well. Gaslighting at its finest. Don’t you just love it! 😀

Furthermore, you would think that somebody of Rihanna’s level of stature would know not to associate themselves with someone as messy as A$AP Rocky but... Stupid is what stupid does, I guess! I can’t even begin to place the blame on him anymore because he’s revealed his true colors and we all have made the deliberate choice to either accept it or don’t and have discontinued all support for him. Unfortunately, misogynoir is never the dealbreaker for most people and the hatred for [dark-skinned] black women is so engrained in society that it’s frowned upon when we publicly speak out against it. Very ass backwards if you ask me but that’s society for you. Now, enough about that. Let’s focus back on Ms. Vita La Coco.

As a woman who claims to be a girl’s girl and is always presenting herself to be someone who is the epitome of a pro-black feminist bad ass, it just makes her alleged activism come off so disingenuous when she’s also laying down with the same man that actively attacks the demographic she’s supposed to be standing in solidarity with. It’s “Black Lives Matter” on the IG posts but your vagina is getting moist for a man who openly stated he doesn’t relate to what goes on in Ferguson because he lives in Soho & Beverly Hills. Ferguson being the exact place where a 17-year-old black boy’s lifeless corpse laid on the hot concrete for FOUR hours after he was murdered by a police officer. He couldn’t 'relate' to the fate of so many black men, women, and children who are murdered or seriously injured from state-sanctioned violence because they’re poor and he is not or so he thought.

But then again, what can I really expect from a woman who identified as being “biracial” until as recent as roughly 6 years ago? What can I really expect from a woman who called Rachel Dolezal a ‘hero’ for cosplaying as a black woman? I’d be lying if I said my expectations for her were high in this regard because sis has always shown us she was lacking in this department. And just for the record, this is not a personal attack on Rihanna at all for the die-hard Navy stans in the back. I admire her latest fashions and bop my head to her music just like the next person but she’s getting the side-eye from me on this one.

Trust and believe me though, she’s not the only woman who I can call out for being a hypocrite. Of course not! This stone can be cast at a few others. So without further ado, why don’t we bring Ms. Kehlani Parrish to the front of the congregation? Prior to Kehlani’s recent declaration of identifying as a lesbian, her last public relationship with a man was with YG. Yes, the same YG who felt it was necessary to say him & Nipsey had ‘pretty light-skinned’ daughters to raise in the middle of his deceased friend’s memorial. By the way, Nipsey’s daughter is not even light (or at least not in my book anyways.) She’s a very deep caramel tone just like her father which makes what he said even more moronic. Yes, the same YG who thought it was clever idea to use slavery as an aesthetic for a music video to a diss track about 6ix9ine. And yes, also the same YG who has derogatory lyrics targeted at bisexual women. Just to end up sweating the red carpets with one. I swear the jokes just continue to write themselves.

This raises the question once more; How high of a pedestal can I really put a multiracial woman who has a song titled ‘N*ggas’ and when received backlash for the song in question, she used the ultimate ‘I’m mixed’ copout while not having a visibly black parent in sight?

It’s also kind of suspicious to me that many were not privy to Kehlani’s secret romance with Victoria Monét (pictured bottom right) until Victoria did an interview with Gay Times revealing she fell in love with a girl but they subsequently broke up because Victoria had a boyfriend and that girl was pregnant in a polyamorous relationship. Fans began to speculate because both Victoria & Kehlani previously candidly spoke about their sexual orientations, Kehlani had just had Adeya and they both were seemingly close. Their short-lived fling would later be confirmed when Victoria released the song ‘Touch Me’ on her last project and Kehlani hopped on the remix. Meanwhile, Kehlani’s relationship with Shaina (pictured bottom left) was very overt and all over her Instagram feed from my recollection. And as you can see, Shaina looks absolutely nothing like Victoria. They look like the complete opposite of eachother in every aspect which is kind of alarming(?) to say the least because why is it that the women she proudly claims as her partners tend to have a very racially ambiguous look such as herself but her ‘sneaky links’ on the other hand are undoubtedly black women? Again, it could just be me jumping conclusions. You know, I’m kinda good for that however something tells me I’m not. Y’all be the judge of the material though.

Last but not least, I’d like to touch on Ms. Raven Tracy very briefly. I was very weary about even including in this segment and if I should just put her in a entirely separate blog post with other women who openly date abusers despite their checkered past (alongside Nicki Minaj & her r*pist murderer of a husband, India Love & Sheck Wes etc.) being this particular blog post was based around the theme of lightskinned/mixed women dating men with extremely problematic views about DSBW. Raven obviously isn’t lightskinned or mixed however I refused to ignore how contradictory her [former] relationship with an alleged (I used this word very loosely and mainly for legality purposes.) serial r*pist while promoting a brand that is all about feminism & body positivity. This also traces back to A$AP Rocky by default being that Ian Connor is his very close friend and he came to Connor’s defense when several women came forward detailing accounts of Connor allegedly s*xually assaulting them. (I wish I could place the actual video of what A$AP Rocky said verbatim but Tumblr only allows one video per blog post. 🙄)

Back in June of this year, Ian & Raven had a back & forth on Twitter after Ian tweeted about Raven “fucking everybody” behind his back. I can only assume that he was alluding to Tori Brixx posting a video of her ex, Rich the Kid & Raven kissing on her story. Disgusted is not even the word to describe my feeling when she admitted she stuck by Ian despite of his many allegations of s*xual abuse because she loved him and her being a empath causes her to want to help everybody. Imagine aiding and abetting a predator and even paying for his bail & legal fees just to turn around and expect sympathy because this same individual cheated on you and exploited you all over Twitter for the public to see. The same man that you would get back with not even a WEEK after the fact & turn off your IG comments because it isn’t our “business” after making it our business...

That being said, I just genuinely want to know: Why do these women completely go against what they stand for in regards to these men? Maybe it was never genuine from jump street and if that’s the case, why jump on the bandwagon of performative activism? Is it because it’s profitable right now? Is it because disrespecting black women is not an immediate death sentence to your careers and more often than not actually helps you advance even further? I guess that’s the billion dollar question that’ll never truly be answered. I just want the world to stop using black women as their stepping stool to get to where they need to go and then discarding of us when we’re no longer beneficial. Support us all the way or don’t support us at all. We deal with enough disrespect as is so we’d appreciate if y’all would stop straddling the fence and partake in your misogynoir out loud if that’s what you choose to do. We have no use for fake allyship and quite frankly, it’s doing more harm for us than good. Please and thank you!

Sincerely,

- 𝙼𝙸𝚂𝚂 𝙴𝙳𝙶𝙰𝚁 𝙰𝙻𝙻𝙴𝙽 𝙷𝙾𝙴. 💋

[wri0thesley]

hi! please do not talk to me! i am just as disappointed in myself as you are!

arrangement - naoya x fem!reader (3.7k)

warnings: naoya is just an asshole lmao, misogyny, arranged marriage mentions, degradation, humiliation, spitting, unhealthy ‘relationship’. afab reader, fem pronouns

despite your clan elders’ best intentions, you are clearly not a good match for someone as well placed in the world as naoya. still. that doesn’t mean he can’t have a little fun with you. 

You should have known that it was a fruitless endeavour.

No matter how nicely your hair might be set and your clothes might be chosen, how intricately and carefully your makeup applied – how pretty your manners might be . . . This was never going to go anywhere. Oh, your elders might have thought this was a good idea, and sure it would be – if it were possible. If your clan wasn’t hanging on by the skin of its teeth already. If you’d been blessed – if that was the right way to put it – with more cursed energy than you had been.

But you were not. It had been clear to you the moment you had been – cordially, politely – introduced to him. You hadn’t looked him in the eye – you’d been briefed on what he was like enough to know that – but you’d still sensed the flickering of his gaze over your form. You’d still seen the curve of his mouth into a cruel sneer.

“What a pity,” he’d said, tone not belying an ounce of the pity he mentioned. “I’m far too busy for acts of charity.”

You should have left it at that. You should have accepted it was not to be and went back to your own clan with your tail between your legs, just another failure – or perhaps, you should have looked up into his eyes and spat at him and insisted you were worth more than that. If you had been braver, if you had talked back--

But you do not. Inside, you are meek and quiet. You are cowed by what you know is the power that is at his fingertips, not just physically but also in the sheer luck of having been born as he was born. You duck your head. You feel your cheeks warm. Something about the sneer on his face, the mocking tone . . . sends a curl of heat right to the centre of your belly that you desperately try to ignore.

Tripping over your words, you apologise to him.

For wasting his time.

And it’s that which sets these particular events in motion.

Naoya sees how easily you bend under just his words and the weight of his gaze on you – and though, of course, you are not fit to be his wife the way that your clan elders clearly wanted you to be . . . he likes the idea of your eyes, downturned on the floor. He likes the idea of you on your knees before him. He likes the idea of being able to throw you around, and you, deferential as you take it.

No, even though you would walk three steps behind him and be behest to his whims, you lack the impressive lineage and the splendour of a great union that Naoya is looking for in a wife. But that does not mean, he thinks, as he watches you leave, his eyes following the suggestive curve of your body beneath the layers of fabric, that he cannot have a little fun with you first.

You come to his rooms without an ounce of hesitation. You must know, surely – after the way he treated you at your introduction – that he has no pure intentions. Certainly, the servants milling about his estate know as you’re shown to where he wants you.

Good. Your eager acquiescence just cements the fact to him that he has made the right decision; you will be weak-willed and desperate to please, and though he has no intentions of honour when it comes to what he’s going to do to you, he knows you will do it anyway.

“You came,” he says to you, as you stand across the room, where he’s lounging, entirely at ease, against the pillows on his bed. Your entire body fizzes. You know you should not be here.

(There is something about him that your body cannot deny.)

“I shouldn’t have expected anything less from a whore.” You flinch at the word, though that strange curl of heat returns to your middle. You fight it off as best you can. He sees how you swallow, the way you respond to the name – and he is smirking again, rising from the pillows, walking over to you with all of the grace of a predator. His fingertips reach out, tracing the line of your chin (your skin is pleasingly soft beneath them). “That’s what you are, right? Your clan elders sent you here to see if that’s what you’d be for me.”

He tips up your face. It’s the first time that your eyes have been anywhere near his, and he’s delighted to see the flair of panic and confusion in your gaze. Cute.

“That’s not—” You say, your voice very dry. You struggle with the words, knowing despite yourself that part of him must be right – if you were not, surely it wouldn’t have been as simple as him summoning you and you going there--

“You can’t honestly think you’d have made me a wife, hmm?” He lowers his head, too close to you – your entire body feels like it’s thrumming with energy, buzzing with unrestrained tension. “You’re pathetic.” The word is practically a purr, and your body responds in kind – Naoya, seeing how your eyes cloud over, how you have to stop yourself biting your lip, is delighted.

“I-I’m sorry,” you say, desperate, miserable. You don’t understand why your thighs feel slick and your legs feel shaky, or why your head seems to have clouded over with thoughts that refuse to take proper shape.

“Aww.” His thumb slides across your lip – and you find yourself opening your mouth without meaning to, letting him slide the tip of his thumb in and press down on your tongue. “That’s right. You’re cuter when you don’t talk.”

You don’t say anything. You’re not sure you could, anyway – not with how dry your throat feels. Naoya clicks his tongue.

“Suck it, then,” he tells you, with the air of an impatient man giving orders to a puppy dog. You suppose that’s what you are, really – because you do close your lips, and you do lathe your tongue across the pad of his thumb. He’s still smirking at you, damnably attractive if only for the air of self-assured cockiness. “You’ll want to get used to having something in your mouth.”

His other hand comes up and pushes the kimono you’re wearing (too formal of a kind, really – but your clan elders had wanted to show deference to the Zenins, and they had hoped that perhaps you would be meeting your future husband, and everybody knew that Naoya would prefer a traditional young bride--) to one side, exposing too much of your collarbone and chest.

“Not bad,” he tells you. “Not good enough for me, of course but . . . you’ll do for this.”

You hate that you know what ‘this’ is. You hate that you have no protest to give as he pulls his thumb out of your mouth and turns his back on you.

“Take them off,” he tells you. “Be quick about it. I don’t have all day. Women can be so slow.”

Your hands are shaking as you go to untie your obi. Your self-preservation instinct is telling you to run. Naoya stops where he is and turns his head, his lips still tilted as he sees you’re doing as he asked. Oh, but you’re fun – he feels like a cat playing with a mouse.

“Hurry. Up.” It’s a snap, all pretence – he’s rather enjoying the shaking and the trembling. He can’t help but look at you hungrily as the fabric pools about your ankles in your clumsy undressing. “Before I change my mind, and send you back out into the estate like that.”

Why are you still doing what he asks? You finish undressing and shiver in the cool air, standing there, waiting for whatever he’s going to tell you to do next.

He reaches the bed and turns, sitting on it. He’s entirely casual about the whole thing, his elbows resting on his knees as he steeples his hands together and just looks at you. You burn under his gaze.

“Yes,” he repeats. “You’ll do. Come here--”

You take a step forward, only to stop as he holds up his hand. He takes the patient tone of a man talking to an animal once more.

“Not like that. Think about it, come on. Your head is above mine. That’s not very respectful of you, is it?”

He swathes the words in velvet, making them sound like a question – but you can hear the steel inside of them. The order. He doesn’t need to tell you twice, before you’re sinking onto your knees with your throat dry. Your thighs press together, slick friction making you shiver as you crawl towards Naoya. He tips his head to one side and smiles coldly as if his smile is a reward.

(He watches the way your ass moves as you crawl. He can hear your laboured breathing in the quiet room. In the low glint of the light, he can see the hint of wetness between your thighs.)

You’re so eager to please, even knowing that Naoya is going to use you and discard you. Just as you should be. You feel lucky he’s giving you the briefest time of day.

“Stop,” he says, and you jump to his command as if it’s law. Perfect. He takes a handful of your hair and drags it, pulling you forward so that your face is close to the stiffness that you probably can’t tell he’s sporting through the loose fit of his hakama. He jerks your face so that it rubs against his thigh through the fabric. “Well?”

The bob of your throat as you swallow. You look up at him with your eyes filled with confusion.

“As much as the position suits you,” he says, tone clipped, “are you so stupid you don’t know what I want you to do?”

Oh. Oh.

You are still on your hands and knees. You go to bring one of your hands towards the ties and are stopped with a ‘tch’ of impatience, Naoya kicking at it and trapping it beneath his foot on the floor, with little care about how you wince. He doesn’t hold back his strength.

“You’re going to touch me with that after it’s been all over the filthy floor?” He asks, arching one thin eyebrow. “I don’t think so. If you’re going to be as gormless as an animal, you may as well act like one. Your cheek.”

Heat floods your cheeks once more as you realise what he wants. By now, the strange feeling in the pit of your stomach that’s making you wet has become all encompassing, not at all helped by the friction of your thighs or the way that Naoya is talking down to you. You should not be turned on by it. You should be disgusted by him, glad he doesn’t want you as a wife--

So why do you let out a soft whimper as you lean your cheek forward like a docile animal. It presses against something hot and hard, obvious even through the fabric. You don’t let yourself look at him, embarrassed by how easily you let him tell you what to do – if you were looking, perhaps you’d have seen the brief way his teeth dug into bottom lip, seen the softest exhale of his breath. (It’s better you didn’t. He does not like to show weakness.)

He lets you nuzzle against his cock for a few moments, enjoying the sight of you on your knees, your head bowed – but it is not enough for him. Not when he knows you’ll let him do whatever you want.

The hand still in your hair drags you back unfeelingly, letting go of you on the back swing. You almost overbalance – but you have been well-trained in the art of grace. That would have been something he’d have looked for in a wife, if you had been better placed.

Almost a pity, really.

“I’d ask you to undo it,” he says, as he goes to untie his own complicated knots. “But you’re shaking. Are you that eager to suck my cock? Slut.”

He’s right, you are and you are and you are--

There. There’s no going back for you now, as Naoya lets the hakama drop and then rests back on his hands, unconcerned, as if this kind of thing happens for him every day. Hell, for him, maybe it does – surely you’re not the first poor young woman who has been sent by people more powerful than her to try and please the Zenin clan. For some reason, the thought that you’re not the first, that you’re not special, makes another ricochet of heat twist low between your thighs.

“Well?” He asks, mockingly. “It’s not going to suck itself.”

You’re shaking as you approach it, opening your mouth.

“Not too much teeth, now,” he says lightly. “You don’t want to see me get angry.”

(Maybe you do? But you want to please him just as much, so you open your mouth wider, try and let your lips relax--)

He lets out a sigh as your mouth engulfs the head. He tastes salty and musky – you do not have anything to compare it to, but it’s not exactly unpleasant. You experimentally lick across the head of his cock, where the slit is leaking pre-come – and for that, you win a fluid hiss of pleasure. The idea that you’re pleasing him makes you squeeze your thighs together in search of stimulation and friction, a dull jolt of pleasant warmth spreading through your sex. Oh, you don’t think you’ve ever been this wet in your life.

“More of your tongue,” he says to you, and you do your level best to accommodate – your tongue lapping at the veins of his shaft, travelling along the underside. Your jaw feels stretched wide, and you know you are drooling a little. You shift on your knees without being asked to, taking him further down your throat – you sense a twitch in his cock, the slight relaxing of the muscles in his thighs, and a shiver of pleasure runs through you at the idea that he is enjoying what you’re doing.

Pleasing Naoya suddenly seems the most important thing in the world to you – and certainly it feels the most important thing in the world to that emptiness inside you that you feel sure would be filled perfectly by Naoya’s cock. You take him further and further. You hum low in the back of your throat and Naoya’s fist on the bed flexes – you delight in it.

Every time you do something that makes his body respond in even the smallest of ways, you feel a full body thrill run through you that starts in your cheeks and makes it’s way to the junction between your legs, soaking you, making you vibrate and twitch with need. You have never felt so hungry for anything as you do the idea of Naoya touching you--

The crown of his cock bumps against the back of your throat, making you gurgle wetly – tears springing to your eyes at just how much of him is stuffed in your mouth. It’s this that finally spurs Naoya himself to action, once more returning to grabbing at your hair.

His hips begin to piston, thrusting his cock in and out.

“You’re . . .” He breathes, in between great pumps of his hips. “Almost good at that.”

(It’s the closest he’s come to praise so far and the sound of his voice, thick with hunger and lust, is locked away inside some secret part of your mind – you know you will not be able to touch yourself without his voice, the hitch of his groans, coming back to you in a cadence finer than any music you’ve ever heard).

He uses your mouth like he’d use his own fist, pumping fast and hard, his cock kissing the back of your throat with every glide. His breath begins to get shorter, and as you feel the flesh of the shaft twitch beneath your tongue, pulsating, you ready yourself for the salty rush of his release coating your mouth. You’ll swallow everything he gives you, maybe he will call you a good girl for your troubles--

He doesn’t. The hand wrapped around your hair (so neatly arranged, when you’d arrived at the estate – now, a mass of tangles, nothing more than a handle for Naoya to grab onto) jerks.

You cough at the sudden tug. You know he was close, you felt it – so why had he pulled you off of him? The noise that escapes you is half wounded-animal, half confusion – Naoya is sneering down at you, his hand around the base of his cock.

“Open your mouth,” he tells you – and you obey. You want him to come in your mouth! You want to be good for him, you want to swallow down every drop. “Do you really think you deserve to taste my seed? When you’re so . . . inferior, in every way? So . . . inadequate?”

“Please,” you whimper, through the haze of neediness and the ache in your jaw. “Please, I want to, I’ll be good--”

“You’d take anything I gave you, wouldn’t you? You really are pathetic.” You nod, frantically – if you agree with him, maybe he’ll do something about this all, you’re too far gone to have anything close to rational thought. He laughs at you, a sound like a bark – and then, he’s spitting directly onto your mouth, the mess landing on your tongue. “Swallow it.”

Disgusting, you’re disgusting, why isn’t the way he’s acting doing a thing to dampen your desire? You swallow.

The curl of his lip is unfairly attractive. You think he’ll pull you even closer to him, make you open your mouth again and come directly down your throat until you’re coughing all over the floor – but he doesn’t. He moves his hand, pumping his cock – and then, he’s coming, his shaft twitching in his own grip--

And his come spurting across your face, painting your cheeks. You close one of your eyes to stop it getting in there, but it’s a feeble task – you feel it on your face, dripping down your nose, you know some of it has gotten into your hair. Through the one eye still open, you see Naoya’s smug face.

“Did you really think I’d come in your mouth?” He asks, all cruelty. “You don’t deserve to have my seed inside you. In fact . . . Hmm.” He relaxes, looking at you where you’re a mess on the floor. Your kimono and all the ephemera of what you were wearing lies in a discarded pile across the room where you’d taken them off. “You can put on your clothes, I suppose. But . . . don’t clean yourself up. Not even with your sleeve. You should be proud a nothing like you gets to wear it.”

He flaps his hand at you, clearly dismissing you.

“I—I--”

Your voice sounds cracked and strained and small in the room. Pathetic. Just like you. But more pathetic is the heat that seems to cling to every inch of your skin that you know will not go away until you’re touched.

“You . . . you . . . you what?” He mocks you. Your face, all heat, your big blown out eyes darkened by lust . . . He narrows his eyes and smiles, but it’s a smile that’s utterly mirthless, cold as dawn frost. “I’m not going to lower myself to touching you.”

(You think you were expecting it; but still, your sex clenches around emptiness, practically pulsating as he derides you again. Perhaps you are a glutton for punishment.)

You bow your head. You know, if you stand up, Naoya will say something about your head being above his again – so you stay on your knees, crawling towards the pile of clothes. Naoya is drawn once more to the way the slick is dripping down your thighs, the inviting slit of your sex--

“You’re so wet I can see it from here,” he jeers. “Disgusting. You really are a slut, huh?”

Your fingers fumble with the fine fabrics. If your clan elders knew how you had left your formalwear here, on the floor of his room--

You tie the knots. You cannot do anything about the mess on your face, drying too quickly, sticky and uncomfortable – but part of you wants to wear it like a badge of honour.

You finally let yourself stand up, stopped only by a mocking little sing-song of your name, the mocking inflection of the cute honorific at the end that he shouldn’t be using for you--

You turn to him for the final time, too embarrassed, too wet, too hot and aching to meet his eyes. You concentrate on his mouth instead (you know that mouth will haunt your daydreams, blanket quiet night-times when your hands delve between your legs and you have to bite your lip to stifle your sounds.)

“Perhaps,” he says, with the air of a man bestowing a great honour, “perhaps your clan elders need not know I’ve rejected you yet.” A brief flare of hope in your chest, that he sees and takes a fierce, primal kind of pleasure in snuffing out. “Oh, don’t get me wrong – I’ve no intention of lowering myself to marrying you. But . . .”

That grin, barbaric, cruel, cold, heartless.

“It’s only proper for a man of my stature to have a mistress,” he tells you. The idea should disgust you. Why doesn’t it? You need to find a quiet place to hide in the Zenin estate, where you will not be interrupted – where you can press your fingers inside of yourself and imagine they are his. He takes great pleasure in adding; “And I like a woman who knows her place.”

One more flap of his hand – this time, a final dismissal.

“I’ll see you again,” he says, as you slip out of the door--

It sounds like a threat.

[hops-hunny]

What’s in a Name?

Pairing: Blaise Zabini x Chubby!Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 3.6k

Request: N/A

Summary: When two beautiful people fall in love, everything can go right. Or, the one where Blaise gets the girl of his dreams.

Warnings: None?? Mentions of past self hate, positive use of the word fat.

A/N: I had so much fun writing this. Enjoy!

Fat. It was a word (Y/n) had thrown at her from a young age but had grown to become neutral with as she got older. See, the (y/h/h) was fortunate enough to grow up in a household with her dear aunt Marlene who brought her up on the principle that ‘fat and ugly were not synonymous’ which she found herself quite fortunate of. You see, Marlene herself was an extravagant woman. She never stepped out of the house unless she was runway ready, long acrylic nails, hair curled in the prettiest of waves, and a face of makeup that could put anyone to shame. Marlene found her niece to be reminiscent of herself when she was younger. But, she also knew no matter the great example she showed her and the encouragement she’d give her, the world around her would affect the way she viewed herself until she reached a certain age.

However luckily for (Y/n), that age was when she hit the ripe age of 14. She was sick of it. Sick of feeling like a prisoner of her own body. Sick of hiding from mirrors, sick of wearing clothes that fit her like potato sacks just to hide the figure that she was naturally born with. Why should she have to feel bad because the world wasn’t ready to accept her for who she was? Why should she have to hide away due to a bit of extra weight and fat? So, after a long night of crying she decided from that day forward she would do her absolute best to at least accept her body for what it was. She didn’t wanna skip meals anymore just to make everyone around her comfortable. She didn’t want to avoid clothes that made her figure less of a figure. She wanted to live and be free in the body she was currently in.

If she could go back to where she was when she was 14, she’d tell herself she had exceeded that limitation. She was far beyond just accepting herself for who she was, she loved who she was. (Y/n) found herself falling in love with a new thing about herself every time she found herself blessed with the fortune of time to look in a mirror. Whether it was the way the rolls of her back reminded her of the ocean or the bumps and lumps around her hip area that were reminiscent of clouds, she loved every bit of herself. Even though it took her time to get there, she didn't regret it one bit.

Her confidence and demeanor attracted a lot of positive attention wherever she went. Her friends adored her and so did many other people around the castle! There was always a few wronguns here and there but that goes without saying. Even if you change your outlook on life, in a society where fat is a sin there will always be your self proclaimed saints. The more popular opinion shared throughout the castle though was ‘if she could find love in herself, why shouldn’t I be able to as well?’. Although it’s hard for one girl to change the world, she came quite close to it, always offering a shoulder to anyone in need and a helpful word of advice to anyone on the path of self acceptance and love.

There was one person who noticed her much more than that. Some would say it was a crush but no, it went quite deeper than that. He found himself being absolutely enamored by her. Her confidence, her positivity, her ever radiant beauty. All those things he found to be addicting, entrancing. Never had he come across a woman of any sorts who was so sure of herself, so proud to be in the skin she was born in. (Y/n) knew who she was and honestly? It was fucking hot. Blaise Zabini wasn’t one to make wild claims which is why when he thought about how he felt, he was very sure of the feeling. He absolutely adored the goddess that was (Y/n) (L/n). So why was it so hard to say it to her?

The way she made him feel had him in a whirlwind of emotions. A lot of the times, he was infuriated. Not by the way she made him feel, but the way she made him act. Blaise was always a hit with women from all houses around hogwarts. Why wouldn’t he be? When you’re a tall, dark, and handsome man with oodles of charismatic charm and yes, a fat load of cash, who wouldn’t wanna be yours? He could have any woman he wanted wrapped around his finger before he even opened his mouth. But around her, around her? His mouth would close as soon as it opened. He’d feel a rush of heat move to his face and his ears would start ringing. What was this feeling? This feeling that made him act so idiotic. This feeling that had him awake late at night, wondering what it would be like if he only said-

“Hi.” his head snapped up at the sound of a familiar warm voice. The same voice that made his heart race wildly, the same voice that made him act like one of those stupid fucking Hufflepuffs. All nerves and scurrying to find something, anything to say. There she was right in front of him, looking uncharacteristically shy. She had her arms behind her back one hand gripping at her other wrist as she looked up at him through thick lashes. “Have I wronged you in any way?”

“Hm?” he hummed out, still dazed as he looked down at her with a soft look present on his face. He cleared his throat slightly, pulling at the collar of his shirt that was suddenly too tight. Too constricting, too-

“Have I wronged you? I always see you staring at me quite a bit.” she repeated, gaining her confidence back some. God was he always this bloody gorgeous? Well, to her he was. She had her eye on him ever since she’d ran into him on the train back in first year. “I know I’m quite pretty, but I don’t think your girlfriend would appreciate that. No?” she questioned, taking a step closer to him. She felt her hands grow sweaty at the smell of his aftershave, a sharp smell in comparison to her own strawberry body mist.

Was she flirting with him? He couldn’t tell. Why couldn’t he tell? He always could tell. Many upon many times he found himself rejecting women before they could even get the chance to confess how they felt. So why now, why with her could he not? Was this- was this nerves? “My girlfriend wouldn’t appreciate that. I-I mean I don’t have a girlfriend!” he stumbled out, cursing under his breath slightly. He felt himself grow quite warm as he heard her giggle. He looked up at the sound once more wishing he hadn’t. She looked radiant in the glow of the late evening sun. Her round cheeks prominent as her face turned up in a smile before she quirked a brow at him.

“Ah I see then. You don’t have a girlfriend but you were staring?” she questioned, feeling a bit guilty about how she was enjoying the usually calm and collected boy lose his composure. His face fell straight before processing what she said. (Y/n) could see a whirlwind of emotions happen behind his eyes in such a short period of time. ‘Isn’t it funny that only a few years prior this would have been me? I can’t wait to tell Rose-Marie about this later.’

“I-I.. you know what? Yeah I do stare at you quite a bit. More often than not, I find myself staring at you.” he closed the distance between them, her soft frame pressing against his tone one. He lifted two of his fingers up to her chin, lifting her head softly. “How could I not? You’re an absolute work of art. Only the most worthy of men should be able to gaze at such a rare beauty and I find myself to be very worthy.” he whispered softly, his dark umber eyes staring into the (h/c) haired girl’s (e/c) ones.

It */was crazy how with such few words, he could make her feel so breathless, so woozy. Was she awake right now? The moment she had been waiting for since first year was currently right in front of her. The years spent dreaming, pining from a distance all gone in a few words. She smiled up at him, placing a soft hand on the man’s toned chest. Even through his clothes she could feel that he had a nice build to him. “I suppose you’re worthy. I mean look at us, we’re both beautiful. Imagine the gallery of art we’d be together.” she said, confident in her words as she bat her eyelashes. (Y/n) would be damned if she was the only one left breathless and flustered after this exchange.

“Well, why imagine dear? I’ll be taking you to Hogsmeade this weekend.” He said, turning around as he began to walk off. She was stunned. Was this the infamous charm she had heard him having? As much as (Y/n) had heard about how charming and suave Blaise was, she had never heard of him asking anyone out for a date. Knowing this gave her her own boost of confidence.

“You will be? What makes you so sure I’ll be there?” Blaise froze, turning his head back at the girl’s teasing words. He smirked. She really was something else.

“Oh I know. I wasn’t the only one staring all this time, I saw you too.” he winked laughing some before turning around walking off. (Y/n) felt herself smiling some as she shook her head before her eyes widened.

“Wait, what am I gonna wear?!”

----------------------------------------------------------

There was exactly 30 minutes until Blaise was meant to arrive and (Y/n) was nowhere near ready yet. See, she had planned on being ready early, even going as far as to get up at the time she usually did for class. However, after an impromptu dance session in her underwear her luck had run out. She wasn’t completely unprepared though, her hair had been done the night before and her makeup not taking much time, the main cause of concern was her outfit. 

The problem wasn’t a lack of clothes, it was quite the opposite. She had so many clothes that she had absolutely no idea of what to wear! She frustratedly slammed her fist on the pile of clothes in front of her letting out a few choice words. In a moment of defeat, she looked up at her empty wardrobe- wait a second. (Y/n) quickly scrambled to her wardrobe, slipping and sliding on the sea of clothes that lined the way before quickly yanking out the clothes covered hanger. On the hanger was a two piece set.

 The top was a wisteria purple crop top with puffy short sleeves, the skirt the same exact shade with a ruffle hem. “This is perfect! Where did this come from?” she said, checking herself out in the mirror. The outfit clung to her plush body, every curve visible and apparent. The girl smiled, smoothing her hand over the outline of her stomach that was apparent through her skirt. Years ago she would’ve been bothered by the entire concept of the outfit but now the outline of her figure made her smile like an old friend. She quickly put on a pair of white chunky sneakers, accessorizing the outfit with a few necklaces and rings as well just in time to hear a knock on the door. She did another once over in the mirror before quickly running to the door pulling it open to reveal Blaise standing there. She felt her face grow warm at his appearance.

He wore a form fitting maroon sweatshirt that he had rolled up to his elbows, a pair of jeans that weren’t skinny but fit to his figure in the most flattering of ways, and a pair of expensive shoes from some brand she couldn’t even begin to try and pronounce. In his hands were a bouquet of flowers composed of forget me nots, baby’s breath, and daisies. Blaise was in awe. He had seen her outside of her uniform a plethora of times but knowing that she had dressed up so nicely just to go on a date with him made his heart soar. “Wow, you look breathtaking. Look at you!” he hyped her up, grabbing her hand. He held their entwined fingers above their heads, signaling for her to spin around. “Lovely, absolutely divine. I can’t believe I’m going on a date with a deity.” he said, smile growing more as (Y/n) grew shyer.

“You’re not so bad yourself, Zabini. You look great, maroon is definitely your color.” she gushed, closing the door to her room. She looked down at their still entwined fingers, squeezing his large calloused hand with her small chubby one before bringing her gaze up to his face. Unsurprisingly, he was already looking at her.

“Thank you, dove. Let’s get going shall we? I’ve got a ton I wanna do with you and such a short amount of time. Let’s get to it, shall we?”

“We shall.”

-----------------------------------

The first place they arrived at was a building she had seen many times during her visits to Hogsmeade but had never been in. It was an old brick building with a paintbrush on an old rusty sign above it.

“An art store?” she questioned, looking up at him confused but not against his choice. They both walked in, a sound of a bell dinging as they did so. She looked around in awe at the abundance of supplies. The store was sort of stuffy and crowded but that was a part of its charm. Blaise scratched at the back of his neck nervously as he watched her roam around.

“Yeah I don’t know if I mentioned it before but I enjoy doing art in my freetime. I thought I’d take you to one of my favorite places first.” He said, walking up behind her as he placed a hand on her shoulder. “A-and well, everytime I imagined going on a date with you, I always pictured the two of us showing each other our favorite hidden gems. We can leave if you wa-”

“That won’t be necessary. This is really cool and I’ve always wanted to learn more about art! I’m more of a reader and writer myself.” she said, grabbing his hand. Blaise let out a huge breath that he didn’t even know he was holding in in the first place before dragging her off in the direction of his favorite brand of oil paints. The two walked hand in hand, exploring his favorite parts of the store. When he’d see something he used himself or was familiar with, he’d explain it to her, rambling off about it excitedly.

Blaise wasn’t normally the type of guy to speak many words but being around (Y/n) brought out that side of him. It wasn’t that his friends were bad per say, they just weren’t very fond of listening to things that didn’t pertain to them which he was more than fine with. However, it was nice having an outlet to share his interest for once. He loved that she would ask questions about things and even let him talk about his own work. Most girls he talked to never really cared to listen to what he had to say, often spending more time kissing him breathless than listening to the words that flew from his lips. But (Y/n) was very attentive, listening to everything he had to say, eyes full of the same excitement he held.

“Alright, I think I’ve bought everything I’ve needed from here. Your pick, where do you wanna go?” he questioned, grabbing the girl’s hand again as they walked out of the small art store. He offered the old man behind a small smile before turning his attention back to his date. (Y/n) thought about it, humming as she tried to figure out before her eyes lit up.

“I have the perfect place! Come on Blaise, you’re gonna love it.” she exclaimed before taking off down the street, dragging him along with her. He smiled fondly at her letting her lead the way.

“This something I could get used to.” he muttered, trying his best to keep up with her pace.

-----------------------------------

About 10 minutes later, they arrived in front of what looked to be a bookstore. Blaise looked around, swiping his fingers across the dusty books. “Welcome to the place where I spend most of my time when coming to Hogsmeade. It may look like just a bookstore but you’ll see why it's not in just a minute.” she said. Blaise watched as the girl got on her hands and knees and began to crawl making a ‘spspsps’ noise. He was confused, rightfully so but he didn’t question her actions. All of a sudden, a floof of white fur came crawling over to the girl purring as she scratched behind its ears.

 “It’s a cat bookstore! How cool is that? There’s a bunch of these little guys just running around here.” she said, standing up with the kitten in her hands. Blaise’s heart beat wildly at the sight. She looked too cute with the kitten in her hand, holding it gently against her soft chest. He was brought from his thoughts as he felt something brush against his leg. He had to stop himself from losing it at the sight of the little calico cat brushing against his leg.

“Hi there little guy.” he cooed softly, reaching a hand down to pet the cat’s head. The cat jumped up to meet his hand before it could land, nuzzling its fuzzy little head against the boy's head as he purred loudly.

“That’s not the only thing. They also carry some muggle literature too! Don’t tell anyone though, it’s a secret.” she said, placing the kitten down as she began to browse the books on the old wooden shelves. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t.” he promised, eyes never leaving her curvy figure. She looked right at home in the book store, reading the titles like they were old friends. “I’m a bit of a muggle literature fan myself. Ever heard of Shakespear?” he asked. (Y/n) looked at him with wide eyes before nodding. She would’ve never expected that from the man, knowing how against all things muggle related purebloods slytherins were. He walked over to her tilting her head up as he looked into her eyes. “ What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell just as sweet.” he whispered, dragging his thumb along her bottom lip. Her breath hitched slightly as she began to scowl as he walked off laughing some.

“Jerk! That was not funny.” she said, punching him in the arm as she glared up at him.

“Wasn’t supposed to be, love. You just look too cute when you’re nervous!”

---------------------------------------------------

It had been a few weeks since their date and (Y/n) was starting to grow nervous. She and Blaise hadn’t been on another one and it confused her deeply. She had an amazing time on their date, in fact it had been the best one she had ever been on! Did he not feel the same? Maybe he had commitment issues? It couldn’t have been her. No, she had done everything right. She spoke well mannered, bantered back and forth with him, and she looked bloody amazing.

She sighed, opening the door to her dorm. It had been a long week. She threw off her robes before turning to her dresser before gasping. On top of the dresser laid a huge painting surrounded in a beautiful antique golden frame. She hesitantly walked over to it, brushing her fingers along it before looking at the note attached. Opening the wax sealed envelope she began reading the note out loud.

“My dearest rose, how are you? I apologize deeply for my lack of presence. Not being near you for so long deeply hurt me so but it was not in vain. You see, after spending such a lovely time with you that day, I felt extremely inspired. Your beauty deserves to be captured in something far more grand than a simple photograph so I painted you this. I hope to see you soon. To my greatest muse, Blaise Zabini.” she smiled as she read the words, goosebumps going up her arms. Blaise was indeed a talented artist. In photo realistic detail was a large painting of her smiling with the white kitten from before in her hands. She was lost for words. Never had someone done something so amazing for her. “Do I really look this beautiful? Is this how he sees me?” she asked no one in particular.

“It is and you are. You’re absolutely gorgeous.” she jumped at the sound of the deep voice. Turning her head she saw the man she had been thinking of for weeks. Slowly she walked over to him, smiling before wrapping her arms around him hugging him tightly. Blaise froze for a bit, not used to receiving such gentle forms of affection. He pulled back before placing a soft peck on her lips.

“Let me take you out again tomorrow, yeah?” he asked her in a soft tone. She simply nodded before standing on her tiptoes initiating another lovely kiss. Blaise wrapped his arms around her soft waist, bringing her closer to him.

“I really am one lucky bloke.”

[harryspet]

welcome to eden | steve rogers

[Warnings] dark!steve rogers x reader, stepford wives au, wife!reader, marriage au, institutional misogyny, wealthy!steve, housewives au, stepfordization, mind control/brainwashing, forced gender roles, breeding kink, oral sex (male recieving), vaginal sex (wear a condom, kids!), bad editing :)

A/N: i just love the concept of this! i was told this was done before but I hope you all like my interpretation!

THIS STORY CONTAINS TRIGGERING CONTENT

In which the neighborhood you and your husband Steve move into isn’t like anywhere else on earth. The women are flawless and the men are way too happy. 

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taglist: @lovelynerdytraveler @buckysbunny @hollandsdream @micki-smiles @buckybarnesplumwhore @arts-ismything @saharzek @lovemassivelybeautifulbouquet @what-is-your-wish @marvelslut-musicalnerd @brattypeony @hermayone @buckysugar @cherienymphe @peterztinglez @darkficsyouneveraskedfor @charmed-asylum @fishwaterr @marvelsswansong​ @nsfwsebbie​

word count: 4.8k

“Now that we actually own this place it feels different. You still don’t think this is all a little much?” 

Steve lifted the cardboard box you were holding from your hands, starting to make his way into the house, “It’s perfect, pumpkin.”

Eden. 

You were now homeowners in the most luxurious and exclusive neighborhood in upstate New York. Howard Stark created this safe haven in the sixties and people now knew it as “heaven on earth”. 

You followed him inside the fortress of a house, knowing he was smiling wide. Even in your wildest dreams you never imagined that you would live in a place like this. There were so many rooms that you’d run out of ideas for what to do with them. The massive foyer was twice as big as the home you grew up in. 

Perfect marble floors, a winding staircase that reminded you of a castle, and a ginormous chandelier that was no doubt made of real diamonds. You followed Steve as he made his way into the kitchen which was, again, made for the Gods. You’d never been good at cooking but now you felt you had to start giving it a try just because of how nice it was. 

It had three ovens! Who in the world needs three ovens? “I don’t think we even have enough stuff to fill the house, Steve.”

He set the box onto the counter and you were reminded of the small number of things inside compared to the amount of cabinet space, “We’ll buy more things. Lots of things! You have my card, you can order whatever you want online,” You took a deep breath, feeling overwhelmed even by the thought of decorating this place, “Hey now, c’ mere. This is supposed to be a happy day.”

You walked into his embrace, letting his strong arms wrap around you as you leaned your head against his hard chest, “I am happy,” You made sure to say though you weren’t convinced this house would ever feel normal, “And I’m grateful. I really am, Steve.”

Steve’s big promotion in security at Stark Industries was unexpected but of course, you were happy for him. You just didn’t expect he’d suddenly be making millions and, since the two of you were married now, that you’d have to make the move with him and start looking for new jobs in the city. He’d do the same for you so you felt it was your duty to suck it up and try to make things work. 

You looked up at him and a soft smile was on his kind face. He leaned down to press a comforting kiss to your forehead. You tilted up to kiss him. He deepened it and, like you always liked, the passion you’d felt with him escalated the situation. 

Suddenly, Steven lifted you onto the kitchen counter, his hands on your waist and started to explore beneath your shirt, “This is going to be so good for us,” He spoke huskily against your lips, “What do you say we christen the new place?”

You nodded eagerly as he began to kiss your neck, “One good thing is we’ll probably never run out of places to have sex in a house this big,” Steve chuckled at your words. For a moment, his kisses took away the anxiety you were feeling. Change is only a part of life and it was something you’d just have to get used to. Luckily, you had Steve by your side to get through it all. 

“Plenty of space for kids as well,” He said and you assumed it was an attempt to turn you on. You gripped his muscular arms tightly as he 

“Mhm, put a baby in me, Steve,” You played along, knowing that you were on birth control and that was unlikely to happen anytime soon. Steve was dying to be a father but you agreed before you got married that you would enjoy your marriage to each other before you considered having kids, “Please, Steve.”

You knew that would send him over the edge and only seconds later he was pulling down your bottoms and pushing himself between your legs. Before you two could get really hot and heavy, the doorbell rang and left you both frozen. 

Steve helped you off the counter and you were quickly trying to pull up your yoga pants as Steve zipped up his jeans, “Edith, who’s at the door?” Steve asked which caught you off guard. The mansion was also a smart house, equipped with artificial intelligence that Mr. Stark had developed. 

“James and Natasha Barnes, sir. Would you like me to let them in?” There were small monitors throughout the house including the kitchen. It lit up when the door rang with a picture of the couple standing at the front door. 

“Yes, Edith. Thank you,” Steve turned back to you, not with frustration that their moment had been interrupted, but with a mischievous smile, “We’ll finish what we started later.”

You nodded, forcing a smile as he grabbed your hand. The two of you walked to the foyer which was a trip within itself due to the size of the house. 

Bucky was one of Steve’s friends that you were never quite sure of. He’d known Steve for way longer than you so you never thought it was your place to ask questions about their relationship. Bucky just seemed to bring out Steve’s impulsive side and you preferred Steve when he was cool and level headed. 

Nat, on the other hand, you loved her. 

“Welcome to Eden, Rogers family,” Bucky announced, his voice booming through the foyer as they came into view. Already, something was off and it wasn’t because of the new environment. Bucky was clad in his suburban husband get-up, like he’d been golfing all day and Natasha looked like she was preparing to go to some old-fashioned garden party. You’d never seen her wear a sundress and never seen her smile so wide. 

“Thanks, Buck,” You heard Steve say, going to hug his best friend. 

As you walked up to embrace Natasha, she even felt different. As you pulled back, you searched her face for something missing, “Wow, your eyes are beautiful,” She said, still beaming. Her red hair was now blonde and reached down past her shoulders. Her skin was bright and her makeup, which she didn’t normally wear, was done to perfection. 

“Thank you,” You spoke, unsure of why she was just now noticing. Besides that, you didn’t think they were anything special, “You look great … so new.” You laughed awkwardly as you took a step back. Bucky placed a hand on the small of her back and she gazed back at him lovingly. 

“Honey, you act like you haven’t met Y/N a million times,” Bucky grinned towards you, trying to ease the awkwardness. 

“Of course,” Natasha agreed immediately. You couldn’t help but think her tone was lacking a certain emotion, “I love spending time with Y/N. It’s so nice to have girl friends, isn’t it?”

Suddenly, appearing from basically nowhere, she pulled out a dish. It was a pound cake and she presented it to you with a smile that was now starting to make you uncomfortable, “A house warming gift,” Bucky added as you accepted it, “Natasha has been taking up baking.”

“That’s very sweet,” You said and Steve added a thanks.

“You two should stay. Let us give you a tour!” Steve clapped his hands together in excitement.

“Sure,” You agreed, “Stay for dinner. We can order pizza.”

“Order? Pizza?” Natasha was smiling but her head cocked to the side in confusion. Bucky responded by grabbing her hand and, again, she looked up at him with loving eyes. 

“That sounds delicious, Y/N,” Bucky said, ignoring his wife. 

+

You rubbed moisturizer on your face as you looked back into your bathroom mirror. The room was the size of a regular room and the closet was basically an apartment within itself. Steve came from behind you, his hands on your waist as he pressed himself into you. 

“Should we continue where we left off?” He asked as you grabbed a hold of your toothbrush. 

His hands were still roaming over your body as you began to brush your teeth before bed. You didn’t answer his question, your mind far away, “You don’t think Nat was acting super off today?” You asked after spitting toothpaste into the sink, “I mean, quitting her job. Suddenly wanting to be a stay at home Mom? She just got a promotion a few months ago.”

Through the mirror, Steve gave you a look that told you he was about to play devil’s advocate, “She didn’t seem that different to me. I think she realized what she actually wanted after the move.”

Your eyes narrowed at him as you rinsed off your toothbrush, “Are you being serious, Steve?”

“Hey, don’t get mad at me,” Realizing he was not getting anything tonight, he stepped back with his hands in the air, “You never know about these things. People change. Who knows, maybe our priorities will change too.”

You scoffed, turning off the water, “My only priority right now is landing the Cosmopolitan contract. I can think about priorities once I’m working again,” You walked past Steve, standing on the tip of your toes to kiss his cheek, but he still had a defeated look on his face, “Let’s go to bed, it’s been a long day.” 

+

You barely had time to enjoy your bowl of cereal milk before there was another ring at the doorbell. Without looking up from his bowl, Steve explained that he made plans for you and Natasha to spend the day together. You knew he was working on convincing you that this entire move was a great idea. Of course, you didn’t have time to protest because the new blonde was now impatiently honking the horn of the golf cart in your driveway. 

As soon as you stepped out of the house, you realized you were underdressed once again. Her attire today was a sundress full of blue flowers and beautiful pearls to go around her neck, “Good morning, sunshine!” She beamed as you climbed into the passenger seat. She looked over your regular t-shirt and jeans with a smile but you could tell she didn’t understand the way you were dressing, “It’s such a lovely day, isn’t it?”

“Yeah-”

“I know! I love gardening on days like this,” She suddenly pressed the gas and you were on your way. You were still figuring out what exactly happened to your friend since the last time she saw you but she could only seem to talk about gardening, “Bucky loves the flowers I plant. I put them in this gorgeous vase so he can look at them while he’s eating his favorite breakfast. It’s nice to have nice things to look at.”

Natasha showed you every house in the neighborhood, explaining what nuclear family lived in each house, “How come you know everyone who lives here? You never seemed like the type to ... “

“Oh, we all know each other in Eden. It’s like a family! Isn’t that sweet?”

You couldn’t even bring yourself to nod this time. You were starting to notice that every person we passed seemed … flawless. All the wives were perfectly dressed, wearing heels, and had neatly pinned hair. All the husbands looked way too happy. 

You passed a golf course and soon arrived at the clubhouse where you’d be attending a book club meeting. You were a reader yourself so the idea of that gave you some hope that you wouldn’t feel totally out of place today. 

That hope dissipated quickly when you stepped into the room. On a landing overlooking a pool, a group of flawless looking women sat in a circle like they were having a tea party rather than a book club meeting. 

They were all happy to meet you and Natash introduced you to everyone. Instead of their names, she started with their husband’s. There was Sam’s wife Sharon, Vision’s wife Wanda, Thor’s wife Val, Clint’s wife Laura and most importantly-

“Pepper!” The group of women erupted with cheers as the matriarch entered the room. You’d recognize Tony Wife’s anywhere just from the tabloids. She was pretty much America’s favorite wife, writing self-help books, and posing on the cover of home decor magazines. 

“Good morning, ladies,” She moved like a cloud, floating through the room as she commanded everyone’s attention. She took a second look at you as she made her way to her chair, “Steve’s wife Y/N, it’s lovely to meet you and, wow, you have such beautiful eyes. Welcome to the book club!”

The room erupted in giggles and clapping once again. You felt you were in some sort of simulation, like a social prank and you were waiting for some tv show host to come out and reveal that all these people were paid actors. 

Pepper continued, crossing her ankles as she flattened out the skirt of her purple colored dress, “I hope you are all feeling like I am. My husband is happy, the kids are happy, my friends are happy and that. Makes. Me. Overjoyed,” Her words put them in a trance and they seemed even more robot-like than they already were, “I only want to add to that feeling so today we are discussing a highly anticipated book.”

You weren’t sure what you were expecting but you clearly weren’t on the same page as everyone else. Natasha nudged your side, giddy as ever, “I present to you ladies, Melanie Winkle’s Christmas Baking Book!” Now you were positive that you were in a simulation, “Christmas is a few months away but the season is so busy that I think we should get an early start this year. Who knows how many dance recitals, charity fundraisers, and Christmas parties we will all attend this winter? Too many to count! This book is going to change all of our lives.”

Natasha leaned into your ear, “I love Christmas, don’t you?”

“Nat?” Her eyes widened with curiosity, “Blink twice if someone is holding you hostage.”

She didn’t blink at all, “You’re silly, Y/N. You always make me laugh, don’t you?”

+

The next week passed in a blur. You had no idea how many brain dead women you had met or how many times Steve had told you that you were crazy for stressing over the Natasha situation. Tomorrow, you had an interview and you could finally leave the neighborhood and be around people who didn’t only care about knitting and Christmas decorations. 

Before you could have your sweet escape, your limit was met. 

You were attending a yoga class led by Pepper that Natasha had brought you to. It was an otherwise normal experience despite Pepper chanting about how true peace is reached when your “home is happy”. 

The class was in a cat’s pose when Wanda suddenly fell down to her stomach. The class froze and you rushed to her side. Your heart racing, you placed a hand on her back to check to see what was wrong. You brushed her hair from her facing, seeing that her eyes were wide open and she was saying, “I love my husband. I love my family. I love my husband. I love my family,” She kept repeating those two phrases over and over, her gaze completely empty. 

You felt Natasha’s hand on your arm, trying to guide you away.

“She’s going to be just fine, girls,” Pepper said calmly like the woman wasn’t having a nervous breakdown, “Us women are so delicate, with the yoga and the hot weather outside, she must be overheating. Natasha, will you lead the girls into the other room?”

“I think she needs medical attention,” You interjected, staring around the room to find a like mind. 

“Tony can help her,” Pepper smiled.

“She needs a doctor!” The room went silent before the wives began to whisper. 

“I love my husband. I love my husband. I love- I love- It’s a lovely day outside, isn’t it? Isn’t it?” 

“We will get her the help she needs, do not worry,” Piper continued, folding her arms in front of her. 

Natasha pulled your arm harder this time, “Y/N, let me walk you home. It’s a lovely day for a walk.”

You left the room with a feeling of complete uncertainty and as soon as Natasha was out of your site, you stormed up the spiral stairs to find Steve’s office, “Steve!” You shouted his name as you speedily walked through the long hallway. You pushed open the two, large, oak doors that led into the study and stormed inside, “Steve Rogers, I am done!”

Steve looked up from his desk and Tony turned to face you from his place in the chair in front of his desk. 

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” Steve stood from his chair, concerned. 

You stared at Tony Stark, not with awe because he was the most famous engineer in the world, but with anger, “I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting you, Y/N,” Tony stood next, fixing the buttons on his suit jacket, “Steve tells me you’re a photographer. Quite a talented one.”

You eyed him carefully, somehow knowing that he was the source of all that was wrong here, “I need to talk to my husband, alone, if you don’t mind.”

Steve’s eyes darkened as he looked at you, “Y/N,” He said with a warning, trying to tell you not to be rude, “This is my boss-” “It’s quite alright, I know an angry wife when I see one. I enjoyed our conversation, Mr. Rogers, and I think we’re on the same page now,” Tony approached you, a smug look on his face, “I hope to see you around, sweetheart. Oh, and again, welcome to Eden.”

As he left the room, you became even more frustrated, “You can’t talk to me like that in front of my boss, Y/N.”

“Steve,” You walked closer to his desk, “Listen to me. It’s only been a week and I am losing my mind. The people here are … are robots! They’re old-fashioned and daft, especially the wives. Nat used to be smart and cunning and now all she can talk about are gardening magazines!”

“Gardening is a very relaxing hobby-”

“Oh, please,” You crossed your arms, “That woman was on her way to being a CEO and now she’s … she’s a shell.”

Steve walked around the desk to you, grabbing your hands while they shook with anger. The look in his eyes was sincere, loving, and brought you back to a simpler time. When you were first dating, living in a tiny apartment in the city, the two of you were so in love. 

“I know this move has been hard on you and I don’t want you to see this all as a mistake. I’m trying hard, I really am,” You nodded, trying to let his words soothe you. You pressed your head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, “Everything here is new to me too. They do things here differently than any other place I’ve been.”

“Yeah, it’s like a cult,” You felt his chest rumble as he chuckled. 

“I’m not sure about that. I do know that things are simpler here,” You felt his heartbeat quicken, “I always wanted the white picket fence, the two kids, a boy and girl, and a doting wife. She wouldn’t be bogged down by the stresses of modern life, I would take care of her … we’d be happy-”

You pushed away from him, tears pricking your eyes, “Steve, you can’t be serious,” You took a few more steps back. 

Steve sighed, “I wasn’t sure before. Bucky made it sound like a crazy fantasy but now that I’ve seen Nat and … now that I’ve talked to Tony…” 

You kept walking backward, your heart was now racing, “You kept saying she and her. Not me … I’m not the wife you want, am I?”

Steve stepped forward now. There was pain in his eyes like he didn’t want to hurt me but he had to keep pushing himself further, “You could be, pumpkin,” He tried to be endearing but his voice was weak. 

As soon as your back touched the door, you turned and yanked it open. You took off down the hallway and you cursed the fact that you let Steve by this crazy house. You looked back to see Steve standing at the top of the stairs as you hurried down them, “Y/N, please don’t make this hard!” Steve tried to plead. 

“Fuck you, Steve!” You shouted back, practically throwing yourself at the door. As you turned the lock, it didn’t budge, “Edith, open the door!”

“Only Mr. Rogers has command of my controls, Mrs. Rogers.”

Your face fell completely as tears streamed down your cheeks.

You felt him behind as you continued to pull at the doorknob, “Steve, I’m begging you …” He placed his hands on your hips, leaning down to whisper into your ear. 

“I promise it won’t hurt one bit, pumpkin.”

+

When Steve awoke a week later, he was dreading the day. It had been a week since Tony started working on you and Steve was nervous to see the final product of the reprogramming. He’d spent the week emailing your friends, family, and associates, making excuses about your whereabouts and your new change of career. 

Whatever problems he ran into, there was nothing that money couldn’t solve. 

As he made his way down the stairs that morning, he smelt something unusual. Steve had never woken to the smell of bacon and he had certainly never heard you humming sweet songs before. He saw the back of you first as he walked into the kitchen, knowing you were whisking away at some mixture in a bowl. 

Steve moved cautiously but you easily picked up on his movements. Part of Steve was surprised to see that you were still you. He hadn’t seen such a happy look on your face since the two of you had been engaged, “Hey, honey bear,” You greeted him and Steve could now see you were whisking pancakes, “Did you sleep well?”

Steve moved closer and you heard yourself say, “Don’t be shy, I’m making those pancakes you like from our favorite brunch spot.” 

“I didn’t think … how did you …”

You guessed what he was thinking easily, “I did a bunch of research and I found the recipe online. I hope I can make them just like you like them,” You set down the bowl, walking over to peck his lips. Your lips still felt the same which comforted Steve, “Why don’t you sit down at the table? I’ll bring them to you!”

“Oh,” Steve perked up, “I can help you. Where’s the recipe?”

“No need. Let me take care of you, please,” You searched his eyes for permission, “It’s the first day of our new life together and I just want to show you how much I love you.”

Steve nodded and you pecked his lips again. You smiled, knowing how much telling him that you loved him had please him. 

In the little breakfast nook, there was already a table full of food, the sunlight streaming in from the tall windows and illuminating the feast. Steve estimated that you had probably been cooking for hours at that point. A glass of orange juice as well, a cup of hot coffee was and today’s newspaper was waiting for him at the head of the table. 

You were completely focused on following the recipe, having measured everything precisely and you were now making perfect circles of batter in the frying pan. 

Steve watched your dress swing from side to side as you moved your hips, humming to some classical song. He had just realized that you’d chosen a blue dress, his favorite color, and you were wearing your hair just like he preferred. When you brought the tray of pancakes over to the table, you had an excited but expectant look on your face. You were probably as nervous as Steve was earlier. 

As you placed them in front of Steve, you stepped back and folded your hands over your apron, 

“You aren’t going to sit down?” Steve asked, grabbing his fork. 

“Would you like me to sit down?” You asked, a pleasant look on your face. 

“Yes, please,” Steve emphasized the seat beside him. He had a look of surprise on his face as if he hadn’t expected you to ask that. You maneuvered into the seat, neatly flattening your dress as you made yourself comfortable. 

You looked back at Steve, still expectant, “You don’t want to eat?”

“Of course, if that’s what you’d like, my love,” You started to fill your plate with scrambled eggs and pieces of fruit from the bowl you prepared. Even as you spooned the food into your mouth, the taste not registering in your mouth, you watched him. You made sure to push the syrup closer to him as you waited. 

When his fork finally picked up the food, your eyes were wide. 

“It takes just like the pancakes at Orla’s,” Steve complimented and you felt your heart race. You touched your chest, your cheeks feeling warm, as happiness flooded you, “They’re delicious, Y/N.”

“I’m so glad,” You beamed, “Eat more, please. Would you like a muffin? Sausage? I can blend you up a fresh smoothie.”

Steve placed a hand over yours, trying to stop you from ranting, “No, everything is perfect.”

And Steve meant it. 

When Steve finished his plate, you brought it to the sink despite his wishes to help you with dishes. When you came back to the table, you leaned in for what Steve thought was another peck on the lips. He was surprised when you deepened the kiss, resting your hands on the armrest as you leaned into him. 

When you pulled away, you weren’t even breathless, “You look very handsome this morning, Steve,” You told him, adoration in your eyes as you memorized every feature of his strong face, “Would you let me have the honor of pleasing you?”

“I’m already feeling pleased,” Steve grinned not expecting your hand to run down his chest and then over his boxers, “.... oh.”

“Please?” You pouted, feeling him through the fabric. He grew harder against your grasp and, by his pupils, you could tell he liked it, “Just let me touch it. Please, Steve?”

Steve cleared his throat awkwardly, nodding as he was left speechless. You reached into his boxers, grabbing his member which made Steve melt back into his chair. You freed it from its confinement, leaning down to let a trail of your spit coat the sensitive tip, “Just like that, Y/N,” You up and down his shaft, twisting and rubbing your thumb over the tip. 

You moved down to kneel in front of him, “I wanna taste it, Steve. I wanna taste you so bad,” You moaned, moving your mouth closer to him. 

“Put my cock in your mouth, baby,” You smiled before tasting the tip with your tongue, “Good girl. Oh, you’re an angel.”

You took him all the way into his mouth, your tongue trailing down his shaft as you went deeper. You bobbed your head up and down, your tongue creating a swirling motion. Despite your eyes watering, you kept perfect eye contact, trying to show him how much you were enjoying the privilege. 

When your mouth tired, you used your hand to continue the work though Steve didn’t seem to mind at all. When you felt he was close, you slowed your motions, “Steve, please cum inside of me?” You begged, your hand still stroking his cock.

He nodded eagerly, knowing you hadn’t taken your birth control for an entire week. You got up from the ground, lifting your dress skirt as you climbed on top of him. Your eyes were locked on each other as you slid your panties to the side, sliding down on his cock. He was already close, you knew that, and you were desperate to feel his warmth. 

“You want me to put a baby in you?” Steve grunted as you began to ride him. He grabbed a hold of the back of your neck, pulling you further into him. Your forehead pressed to his, your moans and pants began to mold together. 

“Please!” You moaned. 

“You want me to make you a Mommy, huh?”

“Please! Yes, please! I want you to make me a Mommy, Steve,” You smiled, the idea only filling your virtually empty mind with happiness. You'd try your best to be a wonderful mother and wife. “Oh, thank you-”

As you felt his warmth fill your insides, it was confirmation that you had pleased your husband properly. He slowly let you go so you could feel every inch that you just took.

“Jesus Christ,” He swore, panting as he leaned back in the chair, “This was the heaven on earth they were talking about.”

Steve could only imagine what came with lunch and dinner.

Suddenly the sun outside caught your attention, “It’s a lovely day, isn’t it?”

+

hope you enjoyed! 

[therealvinelle]

So as of right now who would you cast to play in twilight? And it’s subsequent movies?

You’re making it really difficult for me, anon. This is… well this movie would be ridiculous. You see, I watch very few modern movies. Notice how much of this cast is taken from tumblr, "Little Women", and the MCU.

At least there’s no Ben Barnes.

Alice: Shira Haas

Had to consult a friend for this one.

Shira Haas had her growth stunted by childhood illness, she's a teeny tiny woman. She's the right age too.

Aro: Timothee Chalamet

This one is actually great as far as facecasting goes. Chalamet has the perfect vibe and face for “polite but maniacal ancient, frail-looking over-curious vampire”.

I’m not sure he has the charisma or gravitas needed for the part, I think is Paul in the upcoming Dune movie will tell.

Bella: Freya Allan

She’s very beautiful, the right age, and more importantly she looks delicate and protectable. She nails the vulnerable beauty aesthetic. I think she could pull it off.

Caius: Samuel Jackson, because he’d have so much fun with it. That, and he accepts just about every gig so I might actually get him.

Jackson can put the fear of God into a man and very effectively communicates that he has no time for your nonsense. Caius would be easy as breathing. Also he'd look killer in a white wig.

Carlisle: CGI Henry Cavill

Is he too old, yes, he could be Carlisle's father. Does he look like what I picture from Carlisle, no. But he is insanely good looking, the kind who makes you want to go rethink your life because if you can’t look like that, or have that man’s children, then what’s the point of it all.

His physique fits Carlisle, tall and strong, and he has the charisma for it. He’s one of those who can have no lines in a scene and still be an important part of it.

Besides, in my movie I’d use CGI and a trunkload of makeup on all the actors anyway (we’re assuming I have a ridiculous budget), they’re not supposed to look human.

Edward: I looked up current boy bands, none of the images loaded, then thought about CGI Johnny Depp because my god that man has the range, but then a friend tipped me off to some guy called Finn Wolfhard.

He is the right age, he has very interesting and extreme yet symmetrical features, I don't know if he has the range but he appears to be my best option.

Emmett: Two guys in a coat muscle suit. The one on the top is Tom Holland.

You didn't give me a lot to work with, anon.

CGI and the makeup department will have to bail us out for this one.

Esme: Emma Watson.

She’s not a very good actress, but it’s a small part so she doesn’t have to be. She has the right aesthetic and the right age, I can see her pulling it off.

James: Brad Pitt.

He’d nail it, I’m sure, the guy is a character actor who tragically got lost in the blockbuster scene. I’d be so down for Pitt as James, you people have no idea.

Jane and Alec: Dafne Keen.

She’s amazing, looks the part, and as Alec is a bit part she gets to play both.

Jasper: I’m sobbing, but… Clint Eastwood.

Yes, he’s in his nineties, no I don’t care. No CGI either, just Clint Eastwood as is.

Laurent: William Jackson Harper.

Come to think of it Harper could have made a very compelling Carlisle, but if Carlisle were black he wouldn’t be able to become a doctor in the States in the first place. Twilight would have to be set in another part of the world. It’d be a different story period.

I digress - Harper gets Laurent because he is great at panicking, and that’s really what Laurent has been doing in the face of his life going downhill for the past three hundred years.

Marcus: Margot Robbie.

Look, I have to cast her as somebody in this franchise, but I’m running out of current male actors whose names I know. Robbie is very talented and more, I genuinely think she would relish being swathed in petrified vampire makeup to play this super depressed ancient 19-year-old male vampire.

Mostly I’d cast her to see what she made of the part.

Rosalie: I would have gone Sophie Turner, but she's just not a very good actress. Not good enough for Rosalie, at any rate.

I think I'll say Anya Taylor-Joy instead. I haven't seen her in anything so I can't attest to her talent, but she has the face for the part.

Victoria: Zendaya

I DON’T KNOW A LOT OF CONTEMPORARY ACTRESSES.

Zendaya has a face, she’s an actress, she’s younger than 30. She gets the part. And I do sincerely think she could really look the part. Besides, London has always been a racially mixed city so Victoria doesn't have to be white. Red hair is not an exclusively caucasian trait.

-

All these actors would be slathered in copious amounts of makeup and CGI, and good use of lightning and costumes (think the elves in Lord of the Rings), but yeah, this is... well it's a list. Make of it what you will.

[petalsmooth]

Ok.

Let’s talk Lili.

First off we only know what stars put out about themselves or other people say about them. We are not friends with these people. We are not in their homes. We don’t usually hear what they say in unguarded conversation. What we know is what is out on social media with some highly distorted soundbites from chats or DM’s with her mother that were exposed.

We were initially presented a portrait pushed by her and her family no less of a middle class family with the standard girl next door hit it big narrative. Down to earth, relatable, somewhat quirky. Strong two parent supportive household. All that was missing were the apron and pearls.

This girl came out of the gates talking about a modernized Riverdale with two girls who would be actually close and not vying for the same redhead. Feel free to add/or correct along the way of course...especially early on when not following as closely.

We got very little in the way of insight into Cole and Lili because they were trying to keep it quiet even if there were hints together. Mostly during this period what fans were fed was that she was slightly awkward socially, maybe not the most intellectual but nice and harmless. She spoke of empowering women, independence, she constantly shut down the idea of Barchie and praised Bughead. Along through the year’s she would speak to social bullying or bullying in general. She would openly talk about struggles with mental health. She’d talk and show her cystic acne and share photos not all airbrushed in ode to body positivity. She’d talk about not having an hourglass figure, and cellulite and often go out in ratty shorts and a bun sans makeup. You see she’d talk about it then follow through by showing lived the walk or calling out photoshops done of her.

Again this is “relatable girl next door quirky Lili” we told was the REAL Lili.

She would frequently talk and post about her family and dogs at home and how much she loved and missed them...though oddly not so much her older sister.

At a certain point it became undeniable Cole and Lili were together to even the hardest deniers. Of course also the Met gala eventually made official for media.

We get have her liking posts such as Miley’s about how lucky she was to have a man who checked off all the boxes. But at times there were glimpses all wasn’t kosher. People have mentioned various cons where she’d be caught flirting somewhere else, or she’d be in a bad mood giving Cole a cold shoulder. We recently saw an old video of them walking and her basically demanding he drop the fans and attend her. We have the con were Camilla is sexually harassing Cole everywhere and Lili doesn’t shut it down until Camilla tries to grind on him. It was so bad even Mads intervened. We have the interview where she is talking over him or rolling her eyes and basically being the unprofessional brat her fans claim she is not. Even though it’s ON CAMERA. Snapping at your co worker/boyfriend and rolling your eyes during a professional interview is not deniable.

Flashforward to the trip to Italy because for me there was always something off about that. That trip was obviously planned far in advance. Clearly Lili was supposed to be there. Her fans quickly blamed Cole because Lili was working. Lili didn’t have to work. It wasn’t a career changing move to do that film. It did not do well. I’m not entirely sure what was happening around that time but I have the sense Cole was disappointed/a  little angry she prioritized it over him accepting very likely the offer AFTER the trip was planned.

Lili spirals during this time. Cole comes back to clean up mess. They are quiet on social media for a long time then slowly emerge again and eventually get the photo booth shots, the wedding and her mingling with NY friends for once. Turns out close to the end for them.

I don’t want to make this a Sprousehart post though although some relevance to bring part of it up. The point is Lili put her career over her relationship. It was a calculated decision. It was also the wrong decision. Her fans talk about her being this warm giving person but that was a cynical call and a pretty lousy thing to do to your boyfriend of several year’s. I’m all for supportive partners but there are time’s where you make sacrifices if you really care for someone and this was a special trip planned long in advance. She blew it off. If I’m the partner she does this too, I question why I’m putting in the effort if it doesn’t mean to them what it means to me. 

TBH I think the bad choices she made there is why tried to make it up by meeting with his friends, the wedding etc...

Something than clearly happened because by January they were done. Not sure we’ll ever know but it looked like they were trying to fix things given the happiness hadn’t seen on Cole’s faces in a long time in those booth pics and then...it was done. We didn’t know at the time, but this is timeline Cole gave. There was a brief attempt at reconciliation where she babysits him at a photo shoot and posts a photo of them in bed and then shortly after...Cole calls it off. 

He heads to LA, she follows him there but not without making sure to shove Casey’s face into her chest to post and rent a place close to where he is staying. She posts weepy messages about the world ending etc....and weird new photos mimicking old shoots with him so naturally people think this means whatever happened they worked through. Around same time she and hers manipulated her fans to try to cancel him earlier because she misunderstood a picture of Kaia....although flat out if he had been with Kaia he was SINGLE and it was no longer her business.

She tries to walk back the firestorm she unleashed on him by “defending” him from a lesser twitter trend after realizing misconstrued the Kaia picture, All summer she weirdly seems to be trying to avoid the topic if they are together or not despite saying once if they weren’t she’d tell people. She finally puts her foot in her mouth one two many times' and Cole confirms they broke up which she doesn’t acknowledge. Because she doesn’t want to be broken up.

As we know know it wasn’t all rainbows on the set even before all this happened as in the musical she’d launched an object at him hard enough to have the crew concerned. Lili fans keep saying Cole is abusive but the only evidence we have of abuse is her towards him. We also had her suddenly doing a 180 from past 4 year’s and excusing cheating with Archie and promoting everyone in her live recaps except Cole/Jughead.

Back to the events following Cole’s post....then we get a sudden string of interviews taking shots at Cole, doxxing him, implying he could have strayed (just to resurrect hate against him) but can’t say he actually did because she has no proof. We know this because in those chats admit it was just suspicion and paranoia and never did have any names.

We learn that Lili has been funneling news and gossip and photos to keep her mother’s hold on the fandom in check and her mother in turn has been bullying people who would stand on Cole’s side. They sought to ruin him. This is not debatable.

For year’s people had made fun and called Bree out for being an obsessive stalker unable to let a relationship go, then Lili starts doing the same. We know she has tried to copy Ari’s style, her mother made a snide comment about breast size, Lili tried to taunt Ari from on set and Ari shut her down. A girl who almost never was in the line of sight of paps suddenly is snapped everyday following break up even before the public new. That doesn’t just happen. She wanted the attention.

I’m not going to go into all of it, you all know it. Suffice to say revealing she has a bitter vindictive attitude she has submersed herself in ever since Cole made it clear no reunion. She won’t even broach the topic of Bughead/Jughead unless forced. You can spin all you like but the split screens was not an artistic choice by RD. It was spurred by need to keep them apart.

Lili last summer was doing precious little other than a post or two of Black Lives matter and then when Cole gets arrested suddenly she jumps on the me too and sets up impulsive lives. Maybe she meant well but a part of me thinks she did it to attract his attention. Notice once she got praise for it and the initial protests faded she more or less doesn’t bring it up anymore. Cole never intended to get attention, it just happened because he’s a star and got taken in to a jail cell. He never put himself on camera for notice. 

Lili also co-opts the murder of a girl to flaunt she thinks she looks good naked. Completely tone deaf. 

Lili very rarely is seen in fan photos, only usually when she’s getting flack for it online. She, a girl who talks about bullying, went on a  midnight tirade against a guy who dares to critique or poetry setting her fans on him. Then deleted it probably because publicist in her ear.

She first said poems not about Cole, than said you could read into what you wanted to sell them. Now she doesn’t want to talk poetry or sequels because it flopped and was critically panned.

There are constant rumors about Lili on sets of productions to point they even had someone on her newer movie try to downplay. Yet we see in a video the cast barely talking and looking tense on a boat. 

The girl who used to talk about body positivity now lets them airbrush abs onto her.

The girl who used to talk of therapy and mental illness now promotes OTC supplements for $ and cults.

If she mentions cellulite she uses other tik toks of people showing not her own. 

She said she would never be on tik tok, yet now has her own and post old videos that aren’t funny.

Lili once tired to attack Cole by talking about losing yourself in drugs or alcohol or sex yet we’ve seen her drug paraphernalia because she advertises. Her friends post and laugh over her being drunk. She was in an off and on relationship with Wallis that doesn’t seem to be about anything but sex.

We were told Coles friends are bad influences but Taylor is out there solicitating questionable clients and making videos slamming LILI’S COWORKER as a bad actor and his brother,

The majority of Lili’s posts no longer feature Sunny or her family/Addy. 

She insulted Vancouver, compared to a prison, and made it clear her creature comforts were of more importance than a pandemic. Not quite the attitude of an empath. Which she claims she is with intention to be a master which require sucking more gullible people into the cult.

She brags about being a “rich man” without understand the context. She went from artistic photos to modeling pinups to fuel her lack of self esteem.

She’s in her mid 20′s, claims she had grown and matured in the last year but there is no evidence of it. Still can’t work with her ex without buffers which still influences show direction though her fans deny.. Still lives off junk food and hangovers. Those glasses aren’t just for sun. Her timeline is mostly an ode to her vanity with pictures of herself and then her dog. She doesn’t seem to have any causes she’s deeply involved in on the side apart from her cult. She’s still stalking Cole as her impulsive makeup tutorial showed. She said she cut out of her life anyone who doesn’t service her. I highly doubt she is receiving quality therapy on the regular right now. She still does not seem to possess the ability to own her mistakes and apologize when warranted, rather deflects or erases when heat becomes too hot.

The content she puts out about herself post break up is very different than the bill of goods fans were sold before. She is a far cry from that quirky girl next door that stood FOR something more than vanity and shallow affirmation. So no, I don’t see what you see in her stans. Everything that once seemed to distinguish her from other spoilt princesses has long faded. 

[candy-and-writing]

What A Triple Lutz Can Do

part iii

Dark! Bucky x Ice Skater! Reader x Dark! Steve

Summary: Steve and Bucky have found each other again, after everything they’ve been through. When Steve meets you at the Winter Olympics, he decides you’re the perfect little doll for their plan.

General Warnings: non con/dub con, stalking, drugging, kidnapping, male masturbation, pet names—kitten, princess, ie; oral sex (female and male), fingering, (forced?) poly relationship (m/m/f), somnophilia, light bondage, more to be added as the story goes on

Chapter Warnings: non consensual touching and kissing, non consensual drugging, mean! Steeb, soft bois, stucky fluff

I am NOT responsible for your media content consumption. This work is not intended for those under the age of 18 due to explicit sexual content and/or dark themes. By reading this work you agree that you are at least 18 years of age. I do not consent to have my work posted on any third party app or website; if you are seeing this work anywhere other than tumblr and archiveofourown, it has been reposted without my permission.

Part Two // Part Four

Masterlist

It took you fifteen minutes to gather the courage to take a shower. Another ten to undress. You hated how exposed you felt, how at any moment Captain Rogers or Sergeant Barnes could walk in and see you naked.

The shampoo smelled heavenly, and as you dried your hair you marveled at how soft it was, how the scent lingered in your hair.

You clutched the towel to your body as you rummaged through the dresser drawers, searching for the least provocative set of underwear. You settled on a pair of lacy briefs that showed more of your ass than you initially thought and a matching bra.

You sorted through the wardrobe five different times, trying to find something to wear. Should you wear a dress? Did they want you to dress up? God, why were you complying with them?

You decided on a white sleeveless dress with a pink floral pattern and a flattering neckline. You paired it with a light pink cardigan, pulling the sleeves down past your wrists.

Looking in the bathroom mirror, you find what you need to style your hair, applying a quick layer of mascara to your lashes. While contemplating whether or not to put on some lip gloss, you grabbed the Chanel perfume bottle, examining it carefully before spritzing a little on your neck. It smelled like jasmine and roses. You liked it.

You shouldn't like it.

You're looking through the extensive makeup collection when you hear the door unlock. You turn your head and watch Bucky close the door behind him, balancing a tray with three plates of food in one hand. He spots you in the bathroom and his jaw drops.

"Wow, doll, you look—you look amazing."

You give him a timid smile and watch as he moves out of sight. You follow him to the threshold of the second room, the one you hadn't yet looked in. A small dining table sat in the middle of the room, with an absolutely gorgeous diamond chandelier hanging above the table. A large bookcase filled with books lined the wall. Skimming the titles, you realized that most of them were books that you had at home—or at the very least the same authors. Some were books you've never heard of before, a few were ones you've always wanted to read. Others were older, classics like the Oz series by L. Frank Baum and the Lord of the Rings series. Books that Steve and Bucky would have read in their childhoods.

"That was Steve's idea," Bucky says, walking up to you after he set the plates down on the table. "Wanted to get you something a little more personal."

You hummed in response, not knowing what else to say. Were you supposed to thank them? For what, for kidnapping you? For buying you expensive luxuries you didn't want?

Bucky hooked his finger under your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.

"You look absolutely stunning in this dress, doll," he murmured, his voice low. You swallowed before finding your voice.

"It's just a dress. . . ."

His eyes were gorgeous. Tantalizing blue-grey like the sky at the first signs of a storm. You found yourself lost in them, at the little specks of a deeper blue, of green. You didn't realize he was closing in on you until his lips touched yours.

He smirked against your lips as you squeaked in surprise, your shoulders tensing as your hands flew to his chest to push him away. You felt like you were pushing against a brick wall; the solid mass of muscle beneath your palms wouldn't budge. When Bucky seemingly got tired of your resistance, he gathered your wrists in one of his hands and pinned them to your chest.

He moaned against your mouth, coaxing your lips apart as he dipped his tongue in. You stayed frozen in your spot, letting his tongue roam within your mouth. His hand trailed down to your breast, squeezing softly as you whimpered. His lips moved to the corner of your mouth, then to your jawline, kissing and sucking his way down your neck.

"You're wearing the perfume," Bucky commented, murmuring against your skin. "Do you like it? It reminded us of something women would wear back in our day. Something that fits you."

You shut your eyes, biting back a whimper as he nibbled on your neck. He intertwined his fingers with yours, pinning your hands flat against the wall and he suckled at your pulse point. You let out a weak mewl as he licked over the dark mark he created, his knee pushing against the apex between your thighs.

"Bucky asked you a question, sweetheart," Steve said suddenly, standing in the threshold, holding a bottle of wine by the neck and three glasses by their stems. Your eyes go wide at the sight of him and you try to push Bucky away, but he doesn't budge.

"When one of us asks you a question, you answer it." Stave's voice was surprisingly stern, sending a shudder down your spine.

It took you a moment to gather your voice. "Yes. . . it smells very nice." If either of them heard how shaky your voice was, they didn't acknowledge it. Steve hummed, setting the wine down on the table.

"Buck, dinner's ready."

"Mmm, I got dinner right here," he mumbled. Bucky grabbed your hips and pulled you down on his knee, grinding your core against him. You yelped, pushing against his chest in desperation.

"Bucky."

Bucky grumbled in response, fingers digging into the divot of your hips as he licked a stripe up your neck before finally relenting.

Your knees were shaking so much you could barely keep yourself upright, your hands plastered against the wall for support. Mascara streamed down your cheeks as Bucky held his hand out to you.

"C'mon, doll, let's eat."

Steve pulled out a chair for you, Bucky guiding you to sit down. Steve wiped your stained cheeks with a napkin, shushing you as you whimpered.

"Buck and I made your favorite, sweetheart," Steve beamed. "Fettuccine Alfredo with broccoli. We even got a bottle of Cabernet to share."

You nodded, mumbled a small 'thank you', and let Steve set your plate in front of you.

"Eat up, sweetie."

You were allowed one glass of wine during dinner, which was barely filled a third of the way up. You wanted to drink from the entire goddamn bottle—it seemed appropriate, considering the circumstances.

The fettuccine was good, admittedly, which made you sick to your stomach. You weren't very hungry, you had hardly taken four bites of your pasta, and Steve and Bucky had noticed.

"What's the matter, doll?" Bucky asked. "Do you not like it?"

"No!" you rushed. "No, it—dinner's wonderful. . . I'm just not very hungry."

"You haven't eaten all day, sweetheart," Steve chided. "And you didn't have very much to eat  yesterday, are you feeling okay?"

You scoffed at that. "Other than the fact that a couple of psychotic superheroes have kidnapped me?" you muttered. "Oh, yeah, I'm great."

"Watch the attitude," Steve warned. You bit the inside of your cheek, looking down at your uneaten food.

"Steve." Bucky looked at his friend, giving him the puppy eyes he couldn't ignore. "Give her a break."

Steve sighed. "If you really don't want to eat, fine, we'll go over the rules instead. Buck, you mind cleaning up?"

Bucky downed his wine, sighing as he and Steve stood. You were hesitant to follow, but when Steve held out his hand for you to take, you realized you didn't have much of a choice. He threaded his fingers in yours, guiding you back to the bed.

"Sit," he told you. You took a seat on the edge of the bed, Steve standing in front of you. "Good girl."

You couldn't stop the involuntary shudder that ran down your spine at the pet name. Steve smirked at your reaction.

"We're going to go over the rules, okay? There aren't many." He waited until you nodded to continue. "First off: We won't tolerate disobedience. You'll do as you're told when you're told, and you'll drop the backtalk. Got it?"

You couldn't understand the fear that settled in your gut. You should be angry—furious—at him for trying to control you, but you were just unbelievably scared. They held all the power here. You were helpless.

"Second rule," Steve growled, "you answer when Bucky or I talk to you."

"Okay," you forced out. Steve's expression relaxed a little.

"Good. Until you can show Bucky and me that you're ready to move upstairs with us, you'll stay down here. We bought you some books already, but if you want anything else to keep you entertained, just tell us. We'll get you anything you want, within reason. And you can make as much noise as you want down here—we soundproofed it. Doesn't mean you won't get punished for causing a ruckus, though."

Your lower lip wobbled a little as you responded with, "I understand."

"You will treat us with respect. You'll use your manners, you'll be sweet. You will accept what we give you, and you'll do as you're told when you're told.

"You disobey us, you will be punished. And trust me, Bucky and I can get pretty creative when we want to be. Your attitude at the dinner table was your only warning."

"I understand," you said quietly. "I'm sorry."

The apology slipped past your lips before you could stop it.

"Buck and I will do everything we can to make you happy and comfortable. That's our job, sweetheart, to make you happy." He gently cupped your cheek, his hand so warm you had to stop yourself from leaning into his touch. "You already make us so happy, we just want to return the favor."

You frowned at that, confused. Steve could see the wheels turning in your head, an amused smile on his face.

"What's going on in that pretty head of yours, princess?"

"Why am I here?" you asked carefully, your shoulders tense as you avoided his gaze. "I just—I don't understand."

Steve sighed, squatting down so he was level with you. "Because, sweetheart, we need you. You are perfect for us, baby, I knew that the moment I first saw you on the ice. The way you danced was so—so beautiful, you know? Like you were walking on water. I saw the way you seemed to relax, like every burden was being lifted off your shoulders. It's the only time you've seemed truly free. You're always so busy, sweetheart; between classes and practice, when do you have time for yourself? You're gonna work yourself to death, baby. We can help you, we can make you happy. I know you don't understand right now, but we are what you need.

"And you'll make us happy. We want you with us, want you in our relationship. We love you, sweetheart, we just want to show you that we love you."

You didn't realize you were crying until Steve brushed his thumb against your cheek to wipe away a tear.

"I know it's a lot, baby, but it's the truth. We're gonna take care of you, princess. You'll be safe here."

Your hands shook as you folded them in your lap, wringing your dress through your fingers. The fearful pout on your face had Steve trying to stop a smile. The crease between your brows was just too cute.

"But—I was happy," you sniffled. "I love skating, I love dancing. . . I was going to graduate in the spring. You're taking my life away, why can't you see that?"

"We know it's tough, doll," Bucky said, leaning against the threshold, his arms crossed against his chest. "We know it'll take some time for you to acclimate to your new life, but if you're patient with us, we'll be patient with you."

"No. You don't understand—" Your fear was quickly dissipating into anger. They weren't listening to you, they weren't going to listen. "I don't want to be here. You say you care about me? That you want to make me happy? Then let me go, please."

Steve sighed, looking back towards Bucky. His gaze turned hard as he looked back at you. "You're staying with us. We'll talk about some things we can get you to keep you from growing bored."

Your face fell at his comment.

"My ma used to cross-stitch," Bucky commented. "I would watch her and my sister go at it for hours. I'm sure it isn't too hard to figure out."

"Or knitting?" Steve piped. "You ever knit, sweetheart?"

You shook your head after a moment, appalled that they were having this conversation so nonchalantly. Rage radiated within you, angry tears threatening to spill past your lashes as you dug your nails into the palms of your hands.

"There anything you like to do, princess?" Steve asked.

You shrugged simply, looking down at your hands. Steve frowned, opening his mouth to speak when Bucky stopped him, resting his hand on his shoulder.

"It's okay, doll, think about it for a bit." He gave you a small smile before giving Steve an exasperated look. "Stevie and I'll take the dishes upstairs, why don't you go ahead and get ready for bed?"

You swallowed thickly, nodding.

"Good girl, we'll be back down in a bit."

You watched them leave, the big heavy door locking you in behind them. You felt numb—fuzzy—like you weren't actually there. Or maybe you were just hoping you weren't. That maybe this was all some drunken-induced nightmare. Maybe you had drunk too much and wound up in an alcohol-induced coma.

You stood, stiffly walking toward the dresser. You shuffled through the drawer, looking for something suitable to sleep in. All you could find were silky slip ons and vintage nightgowns with lace on the hems and little bows—you hated it. You hated how they picked your wardrobe like you were a doll, how they were keeping you down here like a. . . a pet. Like you were a puppy they chose to take home from a shelter, keeping you in the basement to acclimate you to the house.

You groaned in frustration, slamming the drawer shut. You pace back and forth between the width of the room, pulling at your hair as you tried to put your thoughts together. Your head was spiraling, completely overwhelmed as you drowned in rage and fear and stress until you felt like you couldn't breathe.

You jumped as you heard the door unlocking, turning your head just in time to see Steve enter the room. You frowned, watching him wearily as he smiled at you, closing the door behind him. "Hey, sweetheart."

"What are you doing here?" It slipped past your lips before you really thought about it, mouth clamping shut as soon as you saw the way Steve's jaw clenched.

"Made you some hot chocolate," he said, holding up a mug. "Sprinkled some cinnamon in it, just how you like."

You felt your stomach drop. You blinked once, twice, swallowing the bitter disgust that was threatening to overflow your senses. "Oh, um. . . thank you."

He moved to set it down on the nightstand, turning back to you. "Why haven't you changed yet?"

"I—uh—I just—" You looked down at your florally dress, eyes flitting back up to meet his. "I couldn't decide what to wear," you lied.

Steve watched your eyes flick to the side, your hands playing with the fabric of the skirt of your dress. He smiled, stepping close to you and hooking his finger under your chin to tilt your head up. "Why don't we go find something, huh? Come on."

He wrapped his hand around yours and guided you to the dresser, opening up a drawer. He started to shuffle through the clothing. "Let's see. . . how 'bout this, sweetheart?"

He pulled out a little black silk slip-on, holding it up by the straps. Your jaw dropped, completely appalled as tears quickly began to well in your eyes in panic. You had just started to stutter out an answer when Steve chuckled.

"I'm just kidding, sweetie, relax."

Your stomach flipped as you watched him smile—a genuine smile that split his lips and showed off his pearly white teeth. You blinked, stunned, taking in the smile lines in the corner of his eyes and the barely-there dimples on his cheeks.

"How 'bout this one?"

He showed off a modest nightgown with strings laced up the neckline, doily lace trimming the hem of the collar and the skirt and pink bows decorating the fabric. You scowled, barely stopping a grimace from spreading across your lips. Steve caught it anyway, huffing out a laugh.

"Not that one either, huh? Okay. . . . What about this one?"

He pulled out a sleeveless silk sleep-dress with lace tracing the neckline and the straps. The color of the silk reminded you of something a newly wed would wear on her wedding night, that off-white ivory that many women dreamed of. Knowing that was probably the simplest nightgown you had, you let out a sigh, your shoulders dropping.

"That one works," you told him.

Steve beamed, his eyes sparkling as he shut the dresser drawer, handing you the nightdress. "Alright then, go ahead and get changed."

You nodded, giving him a small smile back as you went to turn. He caught your arm, his grip firm yet gentle. "Where ya goin'?"

You frowned at him. "The . . . bathroom? To change?"

His grip on your arm tightened for only a second, enough to send a shudder down your spine. You bit the inside of your cheek to try to steel yourself, hoping you didn't look like a dog with its tail between its legs.

"You don't need to go to the bathroom to change, doll. You can do it right here."

"But—"

"Now, sweetheart. I won't ask again."

You nodded, shuffling the sweater off your shoulders. You ducked your head, your hands wringing the sweater tightly. "Could you—um—could turn around, at least? Please?"

Steve sighed and you dropped your gaze. "Fine. But you're gonna have to learn to get used to Buck and me eventually."

You nodded and watched as he turned, thanking him. You were quick to unzip the dress and let it pool at your feet. You struggled to unclasp the bra, grunting in annoyance when it wouldn't come undone.

"You need some help, sweetheart?" Steve taunted. You could practically hear the smirk in his voice.

"No."

You decided to just slide the straps off your arms and shuck the bra down your body until you were able to step out of it, dropping it on the floor and pulling the nightgown over your head. It was shorter than you anticipated, the hem reaching mid-thigh instead of your knees.

"Okay, you can turn around."

Steve took two steps and he was facing you again, smirking down at you.

"You should drink your hot chocolate before it gets cold," he said.

"Oh, uh—right." You sat on the edge of the bed, wrapping your fingers around the mug before you took a small sip. Steve watched you intently, the corner of his lips twitching into a smirk. "So —um. . . where's Sergeant Barnes?"

"He's finishing the dishes," Steve told you. "Should be down here soon. Why, you miss him already?"

You felt your cheeks heat up, your fingers tapping against the ceramic of the mug as you sputtered out your answer. "N-no, it—it's not—I was just curious, is all."

Steve chuckled. You swallowed nervously, taking a prolonged sip from your mug—mainly as an excuse to avert your eyes from Steve's gaze. You kept silent, focusing on the warmth that flooded your chest every time you took a sip of your hot chocolate. You blinked lazily, your body feeling heavier. Steve sat down next to you, and as you turned your gaze you realized for the first time he had changed. Before, he was wearing trousers and a button-up shirt. Now, though, he's in sweatpants and a plain white shirt.

"Bucky thinks you'd like a record player down here," he said, "something so it isn't so quiet. We could get you some cd's, some records. Does that sound good?"

Not how does that sound? or would you like that? But does that sound good? He wasn't giving you any other option but to comply. To be okay with his decision. You blinked again, finding it harder to open your eyes this time as you nodded, muttering a soft, "yeah."

Steve smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple. You jumped, spine going rigid as you felt his lips split into a grin against your skin.

"You're too cute, babydoll."

You swallowed, sucking in a shaky breath, bringing the near-empty mug to your lips. You couldn't tell if it was the trembling in your arms or if your hands were really shaking, but you gripped the ceramic tighter so you wouldn't drop it. You had never been called that before. Babydoll. You always hoped you would have a partner who would call you by that pet name, but the few boys you dated in high school and freshman year of college were. . . shallow. Your second boyfriend hardly ever told you he loved you. But—even still—you never thought the first time someone would call you that would be a situation as fucked up like this one.

The loud click of the lock broke you from your thoughts, the solid steel door opening slowly. Bucky Barnes stepped in, shutting the door behind him, smiling at you as you heard the dreaded lock click again.

"Hey, doll," he greeted. He ran his flesh hand through his cropped hair, smiling down at you as he crossed over to you and Steve.

You honestly couldn't tell if you acknowledged him or not. Your vision was clouding and your eyelids felt heavy like you could fall asleep in a second if the two men would let you.

"She drink her hot chocolate?" you heard Bucky ask.

"Practically chugged it," Steve answered. You frowned, not understanding their words. You looked down at your empty mug precariously, your brow furrowed as you tried to look for something obvious. Like a roach.

You shivered as Bucky took the mug from you, his fingers ghosting over yours and he smiled. You shuddered again, goosebumps rising upon your skin when Steve started combing his hand through your hair.

"What's the matter, baby?" Bucky asked. "You cold?"

It took you a moment to answer, your eyelids closed, as you mumbled out a soft, "yeah."

You felt Bucky's hovering presence leave for only a moment before it returned; you cracked your eye open to see him holding out a cardigan sweater.

"Go on."

You took it with a soft 'thank you,' and pulled the woven wool over your shoulders. It was so soft against your skin, you hugged your arms around your body as the plush fuzz tickled your bare arms, letting out a sigh. Your head started to droop after you closed your eyes and Steve had to nudge your chin up with his finger. You heard him chuckle.

"I think that's our queue to go to bed," he said. Your world was spinning then, as two hands came under the crooks of your shoulders and lifting you. You let out a lazy yelp as Bucky plopped you down on the center of the bed. You bounced on the mattress a few times before you settled, your eyes falling on Steve as he pulled his shirt over his head.

"Wha. . .wha're ya doin'?" you slurred, heart racing as you felt the bed dip.

"We're goin' to bed, baby," Bucky said like it was obvious, crawling into the bed beside you. You frowned at him, your mind foggy as you tried to wrap your brain around what was happening.

"I. . . no—I don't want—"

Steve shushed you, climbing into bed on the other side of you. His hand pressed against your chest, the width from his thumb to his pinky finger spanning across your entire front as he pushed you back with little effort. Your back landed on the plush mattress with a soft 'oof'. "You're just tired, sweetheart," he smiled. "Go to sleep."

You couldn't fight it. Their body heat engulfed you like a typhoon engulfing the mainland; it was overwhelming. You were imprisoned between the two supersoldiers and being forced into a slumber so violently it was like you were being smothered with a pillow. You let out a breathy whine as Bucky wrapped an arm around your torso.

"Hush, doll," Bucky cooed. "You're okay. Just close your eyes."

You fought some more, sluggishly flailing your arm and trying to bat away hands until Bucky had pinned you down, hugging your body flush to his. He crooned your name softly against your ear, his hot breath sending a violent shiver down your spine.

"You're alright, baby," he hushed. "Just relax, Stevie and I are right here. Just go to sleep, princess."

You didn't know if it was the drug or the cozy heat that radiated off of the supersoldiers—maybe it was both—but you drifted off soon after, your body feeling like maple syrup was running through your veins. Steve and Bucky watched as you settled down, your shoulders dropping as your breathing evened out.

"Is she asleep?" Bucky asked softly, lifting his head to look at Steve.

"Yeah, she passed out quick, I might've put too much of the sedative in her drink." Steve was on his side, arm under his pillow as he looked down at the girl curled against his chest.

"I told you, she isn't very big—half a dose would've done the job just fine."

"I just want her to be comfortable," Steve pouted, letting out a sigh. "She was so scared earlier. I just wanna show her she doesn't have'ta be afraid."

"It'll just take some time, Stevie," Bucky told him. "Soon enough, she'll see that this is what's best for her, I promise."

"Yeah." Steve paired with your hair, listening to your soft snores as silence filled the room.

Steve agreed with Bucky—it was too quiet down there. Apart from your small breaths, Steve could only hear the quiet buzz of silence. He thought about records he and Bucky could get you; you liked soft music—acoustic and folk/indie. You really liked an artist named Taylor Swift. Steve tried to ask Bucky if he knew who she was, but he didn't, so Steve ended up downloading her entire discography onto his phone—with Sam's help, who refuses to leave him alone about it. Steve actually liked a lot of her songs; he thought they suited you.

"Do you think it's too dark in here?" Bucky's low voice seemed to echo throughout the silent room.

Steve had been thinking the same thing. There was only a little night light plugged into the bathroom, so you had a little bit of guidance, but they'd have to get you another—maybe in the other room, if they got one bright enough. You were used to the city noise, the light seeping through the cracks of your blinds.

"Yeah," Steve whispered back. "We could get her another nightlight?"

Bucky hummed in response. "Maybe something that sits on her nightstand? It'd be a little brighter than a plug-in."

"Yeah, we'll look for something in the morning."

They stayed quiet for a while, both supersoldiers admiring you while you slept soundly between them. Steve ran his fingers through your hair while Bucky's traced shapes over your bare thigh under the blankets.

"This is perfect, Stevie," Bucky smiled, breaking the silence, reaching over you to grab Steve's hand.

Steve lulled in agreement, still watching the way your chest rose softly with your quiet breaths. "We waited so long for this, Buck, to have her here. She's gonna learn to love us, We just need to be patient."

"I just. . . she's right here, Steve. We're holding her and all I wanna do is fuck her until she can't think—but she's so scared. I don't wanna scare her."

"I know," Steve sighed. "But soon we won't have to control ourselves, she'll be begging for us soon enough."

Bucky had to stifle a groan just thinking about it — about how your little voice would sound begging for his cock, begging him to fuck you silly.

You shuffled between the two of them, letting out the smallest grunt as you readjusted. Bucky gripped your hip to still you, his thumb rubbing small circles into the divot of your hip. You stopped squirming, letting out a small huff before you relaxed.

"She's restless," Bucky noted quietly like he was talking to himself.

"Side effect of the sedative," Steve said. "We'll have to play around with the dosage. Maybe try half a dose tomorrow night, see if even that's too much."

Bucky nodded. "She'll need to eat more tomorrow, too. What she ate at dinner wasn't nearly enough."

"She had a big day," Steve countered. "She was hungover, for one. And she was a little shell-shocked, poor baby couldn't wrap her pretty head around all this."

Bucky huffed out a laugh as Steve grinned.

"I love you, Stevie."

"I love you too, Buck."

--

Your body protested the first time you woke up. Your senses were fuzzy, only half awake as you protested with a high pitched whine, curling in on yourself. You were so warm, so comfortable, it was lulling you back to sleep as you were struggling to wake.

"Shh, babygirl." There was a hand carding through your hair, drifting you back into slumber. "It's alright, go back to sleep."

You were too tired to actually comprehend the voice, or the hands in your hair and on your hip, running up and down your waist. You were too lagged to feel the two bodies crowding you between them, trapping you between their heat.

You drifted off again just as you felt the lingering touch of lips on your cheek.

The second time you awoke, you were much colder. Maybe that's why it was easier to open your eyes. It was pitch black in your room and for a moment you worried it was still the middle of the night—until you felt the bedsheets. It wasn't nighttime, there just weren't any windows in your prison. It could be noon and you wouldn't be able to tell.

You forced yourself into a sitting position, groaning when your head started to throb so violently you thought it was going to explode. You leaned forward to search for the edge of the bed, yelping as your hand never touched the mattress and you went toppling off the edge. You landed on the floor with a dull 'thump', pulling the covers down with you. You weren't able to catch yourself in time before your head smacked onto the floor.

"Fuck. . . ." you whimpered, shakingly bringing a hand up to your forehead. The lights flipped on, and two pairs of hands were on in less than a second.

"What happened, doll? Are you okay?" It was Bucky. His hands rested on your forearms as he pulled you up, cradling you to his chest. Steve's fingers grazed the bump that had started to form along your hairline and you winced, trying to escape the pain that jolted through your head. "C'mon babydoll, use your words."

"She hit her head," Steve said gently.

"M'fell," you grumbled, clutching at your temples.

"Why don't you let Stevie look at it, princess?" Bucky coaxed, hooking his finger under your chin and turning you to face Steve. You let out a high pitched whine in protest as you were forced out of the darkness the crook of Bucky's arm provided, your eyes closed as your head throbbed in the light. Bucky shushed you, his fingers running through your hair gingerly.

"She might have a concussion," Steve mumbled to himself, his thumb just barely grazing the contusion. "Nothing major."

You grumbled out a garbled response and burrowed your face back into the crook of Bucky's arm.

"No, baby, I need you to look at me."

When you refused to move your head, Bucky kissed your hair, whispering to you, "C'mon, precious. All you gotta do is look at Stevie for a little bit, then we'll turn the lights back off. Can you do that for us?"

You were quiet for a moment before you looked back up at Steve, cracking your eyes open. He smiled at you, sneaking a quick look at Bucky before he returned his focus to you. He holds his pointer finger up in front of your face and tells you to follow it with your eyes. He glided his finger to the left first, and your gaze followed until the appendix left your vision. He did the same thing to the right side. Your head was pulsating under your skull and you had to close your eyes, squeezing the bridge off your nose to alleviate some of the pressure.

"She has a small concussion," Steve confirmed. "We'll just have to keep an eye on it. Nothing else we can do about it."

"Get off me," you scowled, shoving yourself out of Bucky's lap. You were shaky as you stood, tripping over yourself before you found your balance.

"We're just making sure you're okay, doll." Bucky grabbed Steve's hand to keep him from shouting at you.

"You're the reason I fell in the first place," you grumbled, scoffing as you rubbed your temples. They were the ones who brought you to this basement, it was their fault you couldn't find the edge of the bed when it was so god damn dark.

"What'd you say, sweetheart?"

"Let it go, Steve," Bucky pleaded. Steve didn't listen.

You didn't have time to even blink before he was on you, hand gripping your jaw tightly and shoving you against the wall.

You winced when the back of your head collided with the wall, his fingers digging into your jawline.

"You wanna try that again, sweetheart?" he scowled.

A whimper escaped your lips, your small fingers wrapping around his large wrist.

"St—stop."

"Last chance, Sweetheart."

"I'm sorry," you squeaked. "I—I didn't mean it. . . I'm sorry."

Steve closed his eyes, inhaling like he was physically restraining himself, and stepped back. He let go of you and you gasped for breath, doubling over and wheezing.

"I'm not gonna tell you again," Steve glowered. "We won't tolerate your attitude. That was your last warning."

You nodded furiously, tears welling in your eyes and streaming down your cheeks.

"Get dressed," Steve ordered, motioning for Bucky to stand up. "We'll be back down with breakfast in a few minutes."