#I grew up mostly watching what's the new and in one of that movies her hair went all over the face when she lacked headband

[honorarypines]

Earlier today I realized, much to my horror, that I've never drawn Daphne in my favourite era of hers

Gotta adore this look! The blazer? The more prominent amount of green? The simplistic style and smart, elegant vibe? Just drop-dead gorgeous

Oh and I've always loved her blue eyes, I mean no hate for Mystery Incorporated show but purple eyes for character that wears purple? really? (Also that Daphne was kinda meh in general if you ask me idk)

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Rita Moreno (Singin' in the Rain, West Side Story)—She’s an EGOT, an absolute legend for how she navigated her career as a woman of color in the fifties and sixties. Her performance as Anita in West Side Story is why I go back to that movie so many times. She is an icon and she is the moment.

Eartha Kitt (Anna Lucasta, St. Louis Blues)—My friend and I have a saying: NOBODY is Eartha Kitt. A thousand have tried, and they've all come up empty and will continue to do so. Everyone knows her for something: from "Santa Baby" to Yzma in Emperor's New Groove to Catwoman to making Lady Bird Johnson cry for the Vietnam War. She was a master of comedy and sex, an extremely vocal activist, and she aged like fine wine... I honestly don't know what I can say about her that hasn't already been said, so I'll stick to linking all my propaganda. Like what else do you want from me. She was iconic at everything she ever did. Literally name another. How can anyone even think of her and not want to absolutely drown?

This is one of two semifinals in the Hot & Vintage Movie Women Tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Propaganda is not my own and is on a submission basis. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Eartha Kitt:

"A hot vintage woman who was not just known for her voice, beauty, poise, and presence, but also her unapologetic ways of speaking about how she was mistreated in the show business as a girl who grew up on cotton fields in South Carolina in the 1930s through the 1940s coming to Broadway first and then Hollywood."

"Have you watched her sing?? Have you seen her face?? Have you heard her talk?? How could you not fall instantly in love. She makes me incoherent with how hot she is."

"She can ACT she can SING she can speak FOUR LANGUAGES she is a GODDESS!!! Although she is (rightfully) remembered for her singing, TV appearances (Catwoman my beloved), and later film roles, her early appearances in film are no less impressive or noteworthy!! She’s an amazing actress with so much charisma in every role. She was also blacklisted from Hollywood for 10 years for criticizing the Johnson administration/Vietnam War, so. Iconic. Also Orson Welles apparently called her “the most exciting woman in the world.”

"She had such a stunning, remarkable appearance, like she could tear you to shreds with just a glance- but the most undeniable part of her hotness was her voice, and it makes sense that it's what most people nowadays know her for. Nothing encapsulates the sheer magnetism of her singing better than this clip of her and Nat King Cole in St. Louis Blues, she pops in at 2:49. Also I know it's post-1970 but her song that was cut from Emperor's New Groove is likely to make you feel Feelings."

"Even with as racist as Hollywood was in the 1950s and 60s, Eartha Kitt STILL managed to have a thriving career. She also once had a threesome with Paul Newman and James Dean, and called out LBJ over the Vietnam War so hard that it made First Lady Johnson cry. Eartha Kitt was talented, sexy, and a total badass activist."

Rita Moreno:

"Amazing showstopping actress in her one big memorable role as Anita in West Side Story. She sings and dances with unmatched joy and energy, and then breaks your heart with her acting. Rita took a role that felt as a stereotype to latina women and made it compelling and multifaceted. Her subsequent career was filled with mostly side roles, but she still managed to excel in whatever Hollywood threw at her."

"It’s Rita!! The EGOT herself! She can act, she can sing, she can dance, a triple threat. Obviously absolutely iconic as Anita in West Side Story (her part of the Tonight Quintet is the sexiest part of the film, fight me). But before that she was the amazing Zelda in Singin’ In the Rain!?! Thanks Zelda, you’re a real pal."

"She continues to be amazing but also she's got legs for days."

"THEE iconic rita moreno, EGOT winner, civil rights activist, theatre legend. watch her documentary "Rita Moreno: Just a Girl Who Decided to Go for It". also her rendition of "fever" on the muppet show"

[gingiesworld]

It’s The Simple Things

Wanda Maximoff x GN! Reader

Warnings: Slight angst, fluff and a happy ending

18+ MINORS DNI

Word Count:3778

Taglist : @natashamaximoff-69 @canvascoloredin @wizardofstories @louxbloom @wandanats-goodgirl @the-ox-fan20 @ladyqueenxoxo @aemilia19 @wandaromamoff69 @mfd-101 @dorabledewdroop @marvelogic @dopeyouth @karsonromanoff @bimad (if you want to be added to my taglist, please DM me or comment)

AN: As per my girlfriend’s request as I apparently write too much angst and sad fics, here is one with a happy ending. Hope you guys enjoy

Y/N grew up being the awkward one, only having a small friend group in high school, which had only consisted of Pietro Maximoff, Monica Rambeau and Darcy Lewis. The four of them all had the same hobbies which were mostly gaming. The four spent most of their time at the Maximoff residence whenever they weren’t in school, which also meant that they would also see Wanda, Pietro’s twin who was also one of the popular girls, also on the cheer squad. It broke Y/N’s heart the moment they watched how excited she was in their junior year to start dating Jarvis Stark. But what they also noticed was when they had left school and headed to college was how she started to fall apart whenever Jarvis would stand her up. Coming up with stupid excuses as to why he had to cancel their dates and even the weekends they had planned together.

“I got you your favorite tea.” Y/N told her as they knocked on her bedroom door, their heart breaking as they saw her tear stained cheeks.

“Thank you.” She smiled as she took the hot beverage from their hands.

“Are you ok?” They asked her as they moved to sit on the edge of her bed awkwardly.

“It’s stupid really.” She waved them off as she sat up against her headboard.

“If it’s got you upset, it isn’t stupid.” They told her softly. “So talk to me, I’m not going anywhere.” Wanda smiled slightly at their words as she took a sip of her tea.

“He canceled again.” She stated, Y/N started to fill up with anger but thought it best not to act on it, knowing that Wanda needed someone since most of her friends had left to go to different colleges. “We were supposed to have a date tonight and he said he can’t drive back because he has another thesis to work on.”

“I’m sorry Wanda.” They spoke tenderly, placing their hand on her lower leg. “You don’t deserve this.”

“Maybe I do.” She admitted. “I was terrible in school. I was mean to everyone who didn’t fit in with us. I was mean to you.”

“That was high school.” They shrugged as Wanda shook her head no. “We were all children back then.”

“But that still doesn’t excuse my actions.” She told them as they rose to their feet, looking at her.

“Get dressed.” They told her, confusing her. “Just because your date was canceled doesn’t mean that you need to be stuck here all night alone. We can go have fun.”

“What about Piet?” She questioned as they just smirked at her.

“He has a date.” They told her. “With Monica.”

“I knew it!” She squealed as she jumped excitedly on her bed. “Okay, I’ll be down in a few minutes.” Y/N smiled as they exited her room, closing the door behind them and headed towards the living room to see Pietro finishing getting ready.

“Is Wanda okay?” He questioned as he spotted Y/N entering the room.

“She’ll be okay, she’s just getting ready.” They told him.

“Why don’t you tell her?” He questioned as Y/N shook their head, not daring to answer in fear of Wanda overhearing them. “Y/N?” He pushed as Y/N decided to change the subject.

“So where are you taking Monica?” They asked him, hoping he would just drop it.

“We’re going to the movies to watch that new romcom she keeps banging on about.” He told them. “Then we’re going to that diner we all used to hang out at for dinner.”

“Who knew my brother could be a gentleman.” Wanda teased as she appeared behind Y/N.

“Shut up.” He told her, making the two laugh before he walked out of the room.

“Ready then?” Y/N questioned once they turned to face Wanda.

“Where are we going?” She asked as the two exited the house, the two walking towards Y/N’s car.

“Don’t worry, you’re safe from falling in love with me.” They joked as they opened the door for her.

“You know, whoever you end up with will be one very lucky girl.” Wanda told them softly before they closed the door. Y/N’s smile fading as they made their way towards the driver’s side, knowing that they would never truly be with the one person they love. “So, where are we going?” Wanda asked again, watching as Y/N concentrated on the road.

“Just somewhere that I think would be good for you right now.” They told her honestly.

“Can we listen to some music?” She questioned as Y/N chuckled as they nodded, their ears perking up as they heard their dad’s old mixtape which was still in the stereo. “Seriously Y/N?” Wanda questioned.

“What? Asia’s good.” They defended as Wanda shook her head.

“It’s old people's music.” She told them as they shook their head.

“It’s classic rock.” They told her.

“It’s old.” Wanda started as Y/N turned up the volume.

“I’M SORRY, I CAN’T HEAR YOU!” They yelled over the music, making Wanda chuckle as they sang out of tune to the mixtape. A warm feeling spread through her as she realized she was having fun with one of the people she used to pick on, realizing that she had never really got to know the incredible person they truly are.

“A batting cage?” She questioned as they smiled, placing the helmet on her head before handing her the bat.

“My dad used to bring me here when I was a kid.” They started as Wanda listened to them. “It was a healthy way to get out any anger or frustrations I had, and I figured that with what happened tonight you might enjoy it yourself.”

“I have never played baseball in my life.” She told them, making them smirk.

“And why doesn’t that surprise me, Princess.” They teased, making her slap their arm slightly causing them to laugh.

“Don’t laugh at me.” She tried to sound stern but failed as she joined in with their laughter.

“I’m not!!” They tried in between laughs, trying to calm themselves down. “I’ll show you.” They said before they led her into the batting cage. That being the start of the friendship that neither of them knew they needed.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re stealing my best friend.” Pietro teased as he leaned on Wanda’s doorframe.

“We’re just friends, you can have your partner back when we come home.” Wanda told him before she walked past him. The two had planned to go to the mall, Y/N needing new clothes for the internship interview they had at Stark Industries. As soon as there was a knock on the door, Wanda was fast enough to open it and drag Y/N back towards their car.

“I guess I’ll see you later then.” Y/N yelled back to Pietro before they opened the passenger door for Wanda, once the two had pulled away, Darcy and Monica had arrived.

“What’s going on with them two?” Darcy questioned as the three sat down and started up their laptops.

“I think they’re friends.” Pietro told them honestly.

“You’re worried about them.” Monica stated as Pietro just nodded.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love my sister but I also know how Y/N feels about her and I just don’t want them to get hurt.” He told them honestly. “She’s going through a rough patch with her boyfriend and Y/N has been there every time to pick up the pieces but I’m afraid that they’re going to lose themselves.”

“I’m sure they’ll be fine.” Monica tried as Pietro just sighed.

“Let’s just play.” He spoke tiredly as the three soon started up the game.

“What about this?” Wanda spoke excitedly as she held up a pale blue shirt against Y/N.

“I don’t know.” They shrugged as she smirked.

“I’m the one who has the fashion sense, so we shall get this.” She stated as she started to pick out more shirts for them. “You need to look the part for the internship.” Y/N just shook their head at her as they watched her pick out their clothes before leading them towards the fitting rooms.

“They’re my size, why do I need to try them on?” They asked her as she ushered them towards a cubicle.

“They may be your size but they might not actually fit you right. It depends on the fabric and the style.” She told them before she closed the door behind them, before heading towards the chairs and scrolling through her phone. All of the time she has spent with Y/N has made her slowly forget how Jarvis has been making her feel, it’s like she had truly forgotten what it was like to have fun.

“I feel like a monkey.” She looked up from her phone to find them dressed in one of the shirts and trousers that she had picked out. “Why can’t I wear what I usually wear?” They questioned making her chuckle.

“Because it isn’t customary to go to work for one of the most prestigious companies in a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles t-shirt and worn out jeans.” She told them as she moved to straighten out the shirt. “You actually look really smart.”

“Thank you, I guess.” They said unsurely, making her chuckle before they went to try on the rest of the clothes. “Should we get some food?” They asked her as they exited the store, Wanda humming in thought before she grabbed their hand and dragged them towards a small cafe, barely anyone was sitting inside.

“You will love this place.” She told them, the smell of different spices and cooked meats filling their senses as she led them to a table. “This is the only Sokovian Cafe in New Jersey, they even do your favorite.”

“You know what my favorite food is?” They questioned, butterflies going wild in their stomach as she nodded.

“You always get excited whenever my mom cooks her famous paprikash.” She told them before the two decided to order.

“You’ve been watching me?” They questioned teasingly, making Wanda chuckle as she shook her head.

“You have been my brother’s best friend since we moved here when we were in middle school.” She reminded them. “You were the first person who spoke to him.”

“I remember that day.” Y/N spoke with a smile. “I also remember how you used to be very very shy and quiet.”

“I never was.” Wanda tried as Y/N shook their head no, a slight chuckle leaving their lips.

“You were, you even wore that power rangers t-shirt all the time, even though it had holes in it.” Y/N reminded her. “You used to be one of us.”

“Then I actually grew up.” She told them, making their smile falter. “I didn’t mean it like that.” She tried as they shook their head no.

“Let’s just finish here and I’ll drop you off at home.” They told her.

“I thought you were hanging out with Piet?” She questioned as they shook their head.

“I’m getting tired and I have to get ready for my first day next week.” They told her, taking the cheque and paying for it before leading Wanda back towards their car, still performing the small minor gestures even though she had insulted them. The drive back was silent, Y/N keeping their eyes on the road as Wanda observed them, feeling terrible for what she had said. Once Wanda entered the house, she found the three gamers still in their spots from earlier.

“Where’s Y/N?” Pietro questioned once Wanda entered the room and sat beside Darcy.

“They went home.” She told him, her mind still on the events that had just occurred between herself and Y/N. “They said they had to prepare for their first day on Monday.”

“They still could have hung out with us.” Darcy stated as Pietro watched Wanda, seeing how she sunk in her seat.

“What did you do?” He questioned, his eyes never leaving her.

“I just, I said something I shouldn’t have.” She told him. “I didn’t mean for it to come out but it did and I’m sorry.”

“It’s not me you should be apologizing to.” He told her firmly. “They have done nothing but be good to you, even when you constantly tore them down in high school.”

“I know.” She whispered before she covered her face with her hands. “I need to apologize.” She soon got to her feet and grabbed Pietro’s car keys and headed straight out of the door, racing towards Y/N’s in hopes to make things right. Knocking on their door frantically, waiting impatiently for someone to answer it.

“Wanda?” Y/N questioned once they opened the door.

“I’m sorry.” She started, not giving them time to say anything else. “I shouldn’t have said what I said and it was completely out of line, especially since you have been nothing but good to me and I don’t want to lose one of my best friends.”

“Best friends huh?” They smirked as she nodded.

“You are and I guess I am kind of stuck in high school, but you are one of my best friends and I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t have you in my life.” She told them. “You’re important to me Y/N, I just didn’t realise that until now.”

“It’s ok.” They spoke as they opened the door wider, allowing her inside as she soon followed them towards the kitchen. “Coffee?” They offered her as she just nodded. “Don’t dwell on it Wanda.” They told her. “I guess what you said kind of caught me off guard, but it’s not childish to love the things you truly love.” The two moved to sit down in the living room. “I guess I still love what I do because it takes me back to a time when things seemed so much better than they truly are right now. I guess it’s my way of running away from my problems and just pushing them away to try and forget them.”

“Why don’t you talk to Pietro or someone?” Wanda questioned as they shook their head no.

“They don’t need to know just how messed up my head really is.” They told her. “Besides, I have a pretty good coping strategy.”

“It’s not coping if you’re hiding away from the problems.” She told them. “You can always come to me if you ever need someone to talk to. You’ve been there for me so please let me be there for you.”

“Thank you.” They smiled as they picked up the TV remote. “How about a show?” They asked her as she nodded excitedly. The two being fans of The Dick Van Dyke show, and finally able to watch it without Pietro complaining all the way through the episode.

As the time went on, things seemed to have gotten better between Y/N and Wanda, that was until Stark Industries held a Gala, Y/N being invited but also Jarvis asking Wanda to be his plus one. The party was quite loud, Jarvis keeping Wanda on his hip as Pietro joined Y/N, the two of them watching the party from a quiet corner.

“Why do we have to be here again?” He questioned as Y/N placed their drink down.

“Unfortunately Mr Stark made it mandatory for every employee and intern to attend.” They told him.

“So now we have to watch Jarvis be all over my sister.” He stated with disgust, the two turning away from the couple as Jarvis started to kiss her. “I feel like I’m going to throw up.”

“I just don’t understand it.” Y/N spoke up, gaining Pietro’s attention. “He has done nothing since we all started college but make her feel like shit and that she’s worthless and now they’re both acting like they have never been apart.”

“I’m sorry Y/N.” He spoke sincerely as they shook their head.

“I’m gonna get some air.” They told him, heading towards the exit and ignoring a set of green eyes that had followed them.

“Are you okay?” Wanda’s voice sounded as she approached them.

“Where’s Jarvis?” They questioned as she shrugged.

“I’m worried about you, and I want to be here for you.” She told them.

“I just needed some air.” They told her, hoping she would take it as an answer and leave them alone.

“I know there’s more.” She pointed out as she moved to stand beside them. “Please just talk to me.”

“What do you want me to say Wanda?” They questioned as they turned to face her. “Do you want me to tell you what I am really feeling?”

“I do. I want to be able to be here for you but I can’t do that if you won’t talk to me.” She told them, watching as they stepped away from her, shaking their head.

“I am in love with you!” They yelled. “There, I finally said it.”

“What?” She whispered as she shook her head no. “You can’t be.”

“I am, I love you Wanda. I love everything about you, I love your freckles, I love your laugh and your smile is something that I just can’t get out of my mind. I love your eyes, I love that no matter how high I have my walls up, you always see right through them. I love how safe you make me feel and how I always feel light when I’m around you. Like there isn’t a thing that could ever tear me down, not as long as I have you in my life.” They took a deep breath as they glanced over at her. “But I know that you don’t feel the same way.” They started to walk away as she spoke up.

“I love you.” She spoke softly, almost impossible to hear but making Y/N turn back around to face her. “I do, I don’t know when it became clear to me but I love you. I guess it’s all of the simple things that you do for me, like how you always go out of your way to make me smile, even if you’re having a bad day. The small gestures like opening the door for me or bringing me a hot drink without me asking for it. The way you always take the time out to ask how I’m doing even though you’re only supposed to be hanging out with Pietro.” She took a deep breath. “You bring a comfort to me that I have never known before, like I don’t have to pretend to be someone I’m not when I’m around you. I just, I should have told you sooner but I didn’t want to tell you until I had ended things with Jarvis.”

“You have no idea how much I want to kiss you.” They told her as they stepped closer, their hand reaching up to caress her cheek as they gazed into her eyes. “But I’m not going to just yet.”

“Why not?” She questioned as they gave her a small smile.

“You’re still with him, as much as I have always hated him, I will not make you a cheater.” They told her honestly. “I’m going to head home. Would you be able to make sure that Piet gets home safe? He’s got my car keys.”

“Of course.” She told them before they disappeared into the night, turning back towards the building, only one mission in her mind as she looked around for Jarvis, finding him standing with his parents, laughing and joking with them. “We need to talk.” Wanda spoke firmly as she approached them.

“It can wait.” Jarvis told her before going back to his previous conversation.

“No, it can’t.” Wanda spoke loudly. “We’re done.”

“What?” He questioned as he turned to face her. “You can’t be serious?”

“I am.” She told him. “I’m sick of constantly being a second thought to you. I’m always last and I know I just don’t love you. I never really did.”

“Where is this coming from? This is some prank right?” He questioned as she shook her head no. “You know, no one will ever love you the way I did.” He seethed as she just smiled.

“I know they won’t, because you never truly loved me, and Y/N made me realise that.” She told him. “I am in love with Y/N.”

“That’s bullshit!” He yelled as she shook her head.

“No, you just loved the idea of having a girlfriend here for whenever you were finished fucking whoever you spent your nights with.” She told him. “And I am done being your little plaything.” With that she walked away, a smiling Pietro waiting for her. “Can you drop me off at Y/N’s please?” She asked him as the two made their way to Y/N’s car.

“Of course.” He told her with a smile. As they made their way towards Y/N’s, she spotted them still walking, before she could say anything, Pietro stopped the car. “Go on.” She didn’t hesitate to get out of the car, calling their name causing them to turn and face her.

“What are you doing here?” They questioned as she stepped closer to them.

“I broke it off.” Was all she said before she kissed their lips softly, Y/N’s arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her closer as the kiss slowed, breaking it with a smile as they rested their foreheads together. “It’s always going to be you Y/N. I just never realised it sooner because it was the simple things that made me fall for you.” With that Y/N kissed her once more before the two were rudely broken apart by the sound of a car horn.

“As moving as all of this is and all, I want to go home so either get in or get lost.” Pietro yelled, making the two laugh at him.

“Forever a classy man.” Y/N teased as they opened the door for Wanda, making her smile as she got in the back seat, the two of them with wide smiles on their faces.

“As much as I do ship you guys, I want to go home and sleep for a month because I have done enough peopling for a lifetime.” He told them before they made their way home.

[littledovesnow]

a snow wedding | young!corioulanus x fem!reader

a/n: you'll never guess who officiates their wedding lmao

word count: 1.8k (i could have gone on for like 10k honestly weddings are so fun to writ)

content warnings: ooc!coriolanus, coryo is nicer in my fics than the book/movie (more of the coriolanus at the start of the movie tbh), some hinting at bedroom festivites

You know,” you looked in the mirror at your maid of honor. “I always thought you and Coryo would be the two at the end of the aisle reciting vows.”

Clemensia choked on her mimosa, laughter bubbling over the glass. “The way he’s always looked at you? Absolutely no doubt in my mind you two would end up together.” She replied, setting the flute over and walking over to you.

You peered over at the pristine white gown hanging up, still just as beautiful as when you picked it out two months ago.

Coriolanus had proposed almost a year ago, wanting nothing more than to finally call you Mrs. Snow. “It would make me the happiest man in the Capitol, the country.”

You nodded furiously, watching as he slid the exquisite gold band adorned with a halo of small diamonds around a larger stone. It was a lavish ring, one you assumed he had ruminated over after securing a permanent position in the Citadel alongside Dr. Gaul.

A knock on the door broke up the conversation between the two women, Tigris popping her head into the makeshift bridal suite. “Just checking to see if you need anything before I go down to meet Grandma’am.”

“Tigris, this gown is to die for!” Clemensia praised the tailor, whose cheeks flushed like she had spent weeks in the sun.

“It’s just something I threw together.”

“Oh, don’t be modest, Tigris. It’s one of the most beautiful designs I’ve seen some out of your studio.” You smiled, pulling Tigris into the room more. “But I do have one thing you might have to help me with.”

“What might that be?”

You gestured to the gown, spinning to look at the two most important women in your life. “Can you ladies help me get into this dress? The corset looks like a game Coryo would make up in the Games.”

Clemensia laughed, and Tigris clapped enthusiastically, setting her purse on the pristine couch in the corner.

-----

Coriolanus messed with the cuff links he had purchased for the day exclusively, looking at the small photograph of his mother he kept in his wallet. It was new for him, carrying a wallet around.

He had only a few things in there, his Citadel ID card, a few hundred dollars­—pocket change for him nowadays—and the crumbled notebook paper he had written his vows on one day in the lab while Dr. Gaul met with President Ravenstill and Dean Highbottom.

They were messy, lines crossed out and words in the margins, and Coriolanus was fairly certain his sweaty palm had rubbed a few lines into illegible scribbles. He wouldn’t need them, though, he’s stared at this paper for weeks, the words engrained into his mind for the rest of his days.

He looked up when he heard a knock on his door, his best man stepping into the room.

“You just about ready?” Festus asked, looking around at the mostly bare room. “I think your grandmother is about ready to charge into the bridal suite and wed the two of you.”

If asked who he would think would be his best man at his wedding, Coriolanus Snow would never have said Festus Creed, but after the 10th Hunger Games and his short Peacekeeping stint, the two grew close, something akin to friendship.

“It was Grandma’am’s idea to have an evening ceremony.” Coriolanus muttered mostly to himself, but he tucked his wallet and vows back into his pocket, nodding at the curly-haired man.

“I am ready.”

-----

Delicately rubbing your sweaty palm on your dress, you peered through the small opening between two columns, trying to get a peek at your soon-to-be husband.

“Oh, you’ll see him soon enough!” Lysistrata Vickers smiled at you, bringing you into a hug.

You, Clemensia, and Lysistrata had all grown closer after your mentorship in the Games, going so far as to become friends and spend weekend trips in Districts One and Two on occasion.

“I haven’t seen him all weekend, Lyssie! He wouldn’t even tell me what color his suit is. All I know is that it complements his eyes, and I got that from Tigris!”

Clemensia and Lysistrata shared a knowing look, having seen Coriolanus’ tuxedo as they wished him a good morning in passing.

“He looks exquisite, I hope that makeup is waterproof because I know you’ll be a puddle as soon as you see him!”

Your grin nearly split your face in two, preparing to seal your fate as a Snow.

Clemensia took your hand and gave it a squeeze, stepping up to walk down the aisle with you since neither of your parents were able to.

Lysistrata marched down the split of chairs first, grinning ear-to-ear as she met up with her own husband, Festus downright devouring her with his eyes.

You took a deep breath as you turned around the corner, eyes dancing from one side of the room to the other.

You and Coriolanus wanted to have a smaller audience in person, with a majority of the Capitol and Districts tuning into the wedding live on TV.

Dr. Gaul, who you and Coriolanus had asked to officiate the wedding, had a positively radiant smile on her face, a rarity for the woman. But how could she not, her two star pupils were getting married today.

You finally locked eyes with your fiancé, you Coriolanus, your Coryo. Most would take the look on his face for a smirk, but you knew the man you were about to marry, you knew he was holding back a million-watt smile.

Before you knew it, you were at the end of the aisle, Clemensia squeezing your hand and taking the bouquet of red and white roses, giving you the chance to smooth the skirt of your gown.

“Hi.” You whispered, cheeks beginning to ache from your smile.

Coriolanus chuckled softly, taking both of your hands in his own, giving them a squeeze. “Hi, gorgeous.”

Dr. Gaul, who was perhaps the only one close enough to hear the small greetings, looked at you both to make sure it was okay for her to begin.

“Today, we are here to celebrate the union of two of Panem’s most important people, two people who I have gotten to know throughout their time at the Academy, University, and mentorship.”

The ceremony was shorter than some other weddings you had been to, with you and Coriolanus wanting to share vows in private, not wanting the nation to listen in, wanting to keep some things between the two of you.

Before you knew it, Dr. Gaul was announcing you two as the Snows, the crowd erupting into cheers as you and Coriolanus shared your first kiss as a married couple.

-----

With the ceremony over, you and Coriolanus had a short period of time before the reception, taking place in one of the grandest ballrooms in the Capitol. There would be more people at the reception than there were at the ceremony, with Coriolanus getting ready to run for election in the coming months, so you knew you had to be on your best behavior and help pull the votes in for your husband.

“What’re you thinking about, wife?” Coriolanus asked, lovesick smile on his face as he referred to you as his wife for the first time.

“Hmm?” You asked, shaking your head like an Etch-a-Sketch. “Nothing, just how lucky I am that you’re my husband.”

“Oh? I thought I was the lucky one.” Coriolanus replied, leaning in to kiss you in the back of the luxury car, which was taking you to the reception hall.

You couldn’t help the blush that tinted your cheeks. “Coryo,” you murmured, slipping off the bright red heels you had picked out to wear to the reception, Coriolanus grinning up at you from between your legs as you had brought the idea up one night a few weeks ago.

“How does it feel, to be a Snow?” Coriolanus asked, knowing glint in his eyes.

“Feels like I’m worth a million bucks.”

Coriolanus laughed, fixing his bowtie as the car pulled up to the entrance, groaning when he saw Lucky Flickerman and his parade of cameras.

You knew better than to say anything to the weatherman-turned-host, leaving it all up to Coriolanus, who greeted the cameras with a stiff smile and a “it feels wonderful, something I’ve always dreamt of” when asked how it felt being married.

Entering the reception, you and Coriolanus were greeted with cheers, clapping, and a few wolf whistles.

You two did first rounds greeting the more important people in the room, people you two had known since you were both children.

Tigris squealed so loud you and Coriolanus both winced at the pitch, but laughed as she clapped and hugged you two. “Officially part of the family! I’ve always wanted a sister!”

“Tigris, we aren’t even siblings.” Coriolanus chuckled, hand around your waist and thumb rubbing back and forth soothingly.

You lightly slapped the man’s chest. “Oh, hush. She’s been a sister to me since we first started dating.”

Tigris took your hand, admiring the new addition to your left ring finger. Next to the engagement ring now sat a white gold wedding band, matching the one that now adorned Coriolanus’ left hand.

You promised to have a girl’s night with Tigris as Coriolanus dragged you away, knowing you two would be talking all night if he didn’t break up the conversation while there was a lull.

The two of you ended up in front of Casca Highbottom, who was unusually well-groomed, beard tame and hair gelled. “Well, I guess you can thank me for this.”

“Pardon?” You asked, feeling Coriolanus tense at the elder’s words.

“If it wasn’t for my thinking of the Hunger Games, you two would never have spoken a word to each other.”

Coriolanus did nothing more than give a short smile to the man, thanking him for his wedding gift before you two left him to his morphling and posca.

“Why did you invite him, Coryo?” You asked, finally being able to sit for a moment.

“It would have looked bad to not have my father’s best friend here. The man technically did is the reason we’re where we are now.”

You shrugged, agreeing with Coriolanus. “Come on, I want some cake.”

Coriolanus laughed, following you towards the four-tiered red-velvet cake.

------

Collapsing onto the bed, you sighed contently as you toed off the red heels you had been dancing in all night.

“What do you think, shall we spend our first night married as we did the last night as an unmarried couple?” Coriolanus asked, already shedding his clothing.

“Oh, I like the way you think.” You smiled, sitting up. “But you have to help me undo this corset before anything.”

a/n: maybe some good angst next? what do you think my little snakes my little rainbow fiends

[harkermylee]

lee harker x reader | one bed trope :3 !!

warnings: none! besides lee being the cutest precious awkward angel there is?? HSNNDJEJDNSKA.

who knows how this happened, lee wasn’t really a people person. most of her days consisted of her going to work and coming back, always alone. she didn’t mind it though it’s what she preferred.

well.. that was until lee found herself with a crush. this was new! entirely new for lee. she never had crushes not once in her life and trust me she was definitely panicking when she found out she liked you in a different than she liked other people. her heart would skip a literal beat (sooo cheesy but this is how she explains it) whenever she laid her eyes on you. she would ask herself, “oh fuck why do i feel this way? i barely know her!” and then send herself into a panic.

you two grew close and close. mostly because you would strike up conversation and try your best to get to know her, and she would just sit there and reply. you didn’t think much of it and didn’t see it as something unlikeable, you thought it was sweet.

now the crush was obvious and gosh it made you giggle! i mean she would literally flinch or jump whenever you entered the room and you weren’t even trying to startle her. of course, no offense was taken and you just chuckled every time it happened.

her eyes would never stay on you when you guys talked, finding it incredibly and way more harder than usual to keep eye contact with you. once glance into your eyes and she was as red as a strawberry.

so, how exactly did this happen? you were hanging with lee at her house, just a normal and friendly hangout! but obviously she was freaking outttt. she hated people at her house but something with you was so different she didn’t want you to leave. a small frown on her lips as she would look at the time and see it was getting later.

the night was full of personal questions and answers, comforting and watching a movie before you had to head out. she walked you to the door until you stopped in your tracks, her body slightly bumping into you and followed by a quick apology.

“oh, this is embarrassing..” you spoke, chuckling and looking up at her. “i.. don’t have money for gas and i don’t think i can make it to my place before having to literally push my car..”

lee froze at these words, she stayed quiet and stared for a second before looking down at the floor. “i- uhm mm.. you could stay here for the night and i could drive you in the morning? or, i could drive you now. i dont think i have money uh.. if i did i would give you-“

“could i stay here? just for the night? i could sleep on the couch it’s fine really. i dont want to make you drive so late you seem exhausted.” you reassured her and enjoyed the offer of staying for the night.

“don’t sleep on the couch.” she spoke, almost sounding as if she blurted it out. “i mean- it’s not comfortable. you can sleep on my bed i can take the couch.”

she spoke in that small voice of hers, tugging at the ends of her shirt. she glanced at you for a second as she waited for your response.

“we can both sleep on the bed.” you replied.

oh! oh? oh!!! this made her heart basically LEAP! sharing the bed? with you? someone she’s had a crush on for months? oh she was definitely gonna fuck it up somehow. (she totally will NOT! she’s an angel but that’s definitely what her thoughts were.)

she slowly nodded, trying to keep her feelings contained as she turned around and started walking to her bedroom. you quickly following behind her.

you’ve seen her room before, it wasn’t decorated much and really just looked like lee rarely spent time in there. but it still had a cozy feeling to it and you seemed to enjoy it. you glanced around before sitting on the edge of the bed and kicking off your shoes.

lee watched you with nervous eyes and stayed quiet, taking off her shoes as well. she was already in clothes she could sleep in and didn’t have to change, she looked at you again. “do you need clothes?” she quietly asked you, fumbling again.

“ah no i’m fine, thank you. these clothes are okay to sleep in.” you replied and gave her a smile that would make her brain fuzzy. you scooted further onto the bed and got under the blanket. the room was cold and so were the sheets, very lee harker. you rested your head on the pillow and watched her, her movements and behavior.

lee got into the spot next to you and tried her best to stay calm, which she always did but for some reason it felt more challenging to do so in a situation like this. her head laid on the pillow and she stared at the ceiling, stealing small glances at you.

you chuckled to yourself and looked at lee. “it’s cold. i think, we should cuddle.”

lee swore she felt her heart leap again and she glanced at you again, she was quiet. she was scared and she was nervous and the way your tone sounded made her want to sink into the bed because why are you so bold and why is she going insane?!!!!

“oh.” was all you heard from her. you smiled to yourself and wrapped your arms around her, pulling her close to you.

she was as stiff as a board, her body tense and almost like she was frozen. she was screaming and panicking in her head, not knowing where to place her hands and not knowing what to say.

“g’night lee.” filled her ears and she looked at you, noticing how you already fell asleep. how long was she panicking for?? she gulped nervously (hehehehe) and placed her hand on your waist, holding you close. she slightly smiled and rested her head on your head.

she was still panicking but seemed to calm down, listening to the sound of your breathing. she didn’t know why she was so scared. she didn’t know why she didn’t try anything sooner. she wondered if this was platonic or if you liked her the way she liked you. these questions filled her mind but all went away as she just realized, you were in her bed. her favorite person was in her bed and in her arms.

and thats all she needed.

[togrowoldinv]

The Beach House

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader (and some Yelena Belova x Female Reader)

You spend your summers at a beach house with Natasha and Yelena. You’ve always had a crush on the oldest girl, but what happens this summer when Yelena starts crushing on you?

Note: This was fun to write! It’s partially based on the show The Summer I Turned Pretty, so if you’ve seen that you know things get messy and juicy 😂 It’s mostly Nat x reader, but Yelena can’t be ignored here. Enjoy it and let me know what you think!

Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 1, Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 2, Main Masterlist

For as long as you can remember, you have spent every summer at the beach house with Yelena, Natasha, and their parents.

Your parents had been friends for a long time and growing up together you have always been close with Yelena and Natasha. Especially Yelena.

The blonde girl is close to your age, and you’ve clicked since day one. Running around the beach and baking cookies together before watching movies have been some of your favorite pastimes every summer.

Natasha used to join in, but last summer you noticed a change in her. She is older, and fresh out of college while you and Yelena are only in your second year. Natasha started acting like she was too old for your antics.

But you missed her. During those moments, you kept wishing she was there. And you had to admit to yourself that you liked her. There had been a summer a few years back when you realized that you were attracted to her, but the crush continued to blossom.

And now, this summer, it’s in full effect. You arrive at the beach house with your parents and hop out of the car to find Yelena waiting for you.

“Y/n! You’re here!” she shouts, pulling you into a hug.

“I missed you so much!” you tell her, burying your face in her neck.

Yelena pulls away from the hug and looks you over.

“Damn, you got hot,” she says. A heat rises up your neck. Nat may be the one you have a crush on, but Yelena is far from unattractive. “Alright come on in. My mama wants to see you.”

You follow the girl inside and Melina is waiting by the kitchen counter.

“Ah, dorogoy, come here!” Melina says, her accented voice sounds nostalgic. “My goodness, you grew up even more than last year!”

She pulls you into a hug and you greet her happily. She has always been like a second mother to you.

“It’s good to see you, Melina. Where’s Alexei?”

“Oh, he’s out with Natasha. They are fishing today,” she says.

“Sounds fun.”

“It’s not,” Yelena says. Her head is buried in her phone, and you make a mental note to ask her what that’s about.

After all the greetings, you go upstairs to put your luggage in your room. It’s the same one you’ve been using since you were a little kid, and it feels like coming home every time you step inside. The walls are lined with pictures from every summer before. And the dresser is littered with movie tickets, seashells, and a stuffed bear that Natasha won for you at the summer carnival.

You were only 10 at the time and wanted it more than anything. She spent over an hour playing a game to get enough tickets to cash them in for the bear. You miss that version of her.

“Y/n,” Yelena barges into your room and interrupts your thoughts. She plops onto your bed. “Let’s go to the beach.”

“I’m just settling in, Yel. Maybe another time,” you tell her.

“Come onnnnn,” she begs. “I haven’t been today, and I waited for my best friend to go with me. Please, please, please!”

“Fine,” you relent.

“Yes! Meet you downstairs in ten,” she says.

You grin at her antics and get changed into a swimsuit. Most summers you have been modest, but this year you decided to try out a new bikini. Your friend Jane had convinced you that it was about time. You slip on a Hawaiian button-up shirt and go downstairs.

As you open the front door, you are met with two people on the other side.

“Y/n!” Alexei yells. “I would hug you, but I smell like fish!”

“Nice to see you, Alexei,” you say.

He moves inside and reveals Natasha standing behind him. She doesn’t look like she’s been fishing all day. She looks perfect.

“Hey- hi Natasha,” you say.

Her eyes rake over your body and land back on yours.

“You grew up,” Natasha acknowledges.

“Yeah, I guess,” you reply, not really knowing what to say. “I’m going to swim with Yelena, so excuse me.”

“Have fun,” she says. You walk by her, and she watches you go. She kicks herself for not saying something better to you, but she didn’t know how to react. You were always beautiful to her, but something felt different when she saw you this time.

You spend the rest of the day with Yelena on the beach laughing and catching up with each other. She tells you about this new girl she’s talking to, Kate, and how she doesn’t know if the girl feels the same. Yelena explains that Kate is going to be at a party and practically begs you to say yes to going.

The first day ends like every day at the beach house does, watching the sunset with your friends and family.

The next morning, Natasha and Yelena are up early to go help Alexei at the docks. They tried to convince you to go with them, but you got out of it. One time of getting seasick years ago and they accept your excuse that it could happen again.

Instead, you go to town and buy drinks for the party tonight. At the store, you run into a beautiful girl.

“Are you new around here?” the girl asks.

“I’ve been coming here since I was a kid actually. But this,” you gesture to the drinks in front of you, “is new.”

The girl laughs gloriously and sticks her hand out for you to shake.

“I’m Wanda,” she says.

“Y/n,” you reply. “Are you going to the party tonight?”

“I was thinking about it,” Wanda answers. “If a pretty girl like you is going to be there, then I think I’ll make an appearance.”

“I’ll see you there then,” you say. You’re not sure where the sudden wave of confidence comes from, but you’re satisfied with yourself.

You bid Wanda a goodbye and drive back to the house. Later when Yelena and Nat return, they get dressed and you tell your parents you’re going out. They don’t love the idea, but Natasha promises to keep a watch on everyone.

Natasha drives to the other side of the beach and there’s already a good number of people at the party. A bonfire rests in the middle as everyone talks and music plays from the speakers.

“Don’t get into any trouble,” Nat says, taking her own bag of drinks and disappearing into the crowd. You try not to feel disappointed that she’s not going to hang out with you and Yelena.

“Oh, god, okay there she is,” Yelena says. She turns towards you to avoid staring directly at Kate.

“She’s cute,” you tease her. “Go talk to her.”

“No way,” Yelena says.

“Why? Don’t you text her like all the time?”

“Yes, but that’s different.”

“Fair enough,” you say.

Yelena takes a long sip of her drink, and you laugh. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the girl from the store today. Wanda.

“Oh shit, she actually came,” you mumble.

“Who?” Yelena asks.

“I forgot to tell you,” you begin. “I met a girl today at the store and kind of invited her.”

“Well, well, well. Y/n, the smooth talker,” Yelena teases. “Where is she?”

You point to the girl who’s standing by the bonfire and talking to a guy.

“Fuck,” Yelena mumbles.

“What?”

“That’s Wanda Maximoff,” Yelena says.

“Am I supposed to know who that is?”

“She hooks up with like everyone, including Natasha.”

“Oh,” you say. The idea of someone else hooking up with Nat breaks your heart.

“Trust me, you don’t want to go down that path,” Yelena says. Her usual funny nature fades into a serious voice.

“I won’t,” you say. “Oh, look here comes Kate. You look great.”

The tall brunette approaches you and Yelena. She smiles at Yelena and the blonde’s legs threaten to give out.

“Hey I’m Kate, I don’t think we’ve met,” she speaks to you first.

“Y/n. It’s nice to meet you,” you tell her.

“Hey Yelena,” Kate says. Both girls blush.

“I’m going to grab another drink,” you excuse yourself.

Walking towards the drinks, you run into Wanda.

“There’s the prettiest girl here,” Wanda says. “I was looking for you.”

“Oh, hey yeah I was with some friends,” you say. You try not to sound too interested, but the woman is compelling.

You don’t notice Natasha’s eyes on you and Wanda.

“Nat? Are you even listening?” Maria asks the woman.

“Hm? Yeah, yes, I’m sorry,” Natasha says. She kisses the woman on the cheek quickly. “I’ll be right back.”

Natasha makes her way over to you and Wanda. Yelena notices and tries to interfere.

“Nat, I already told her to not get with her. She’s fine. They’re just talking,” Yelena says.

“I don’t fucking care. She needs to stay away from y/n,” Natasha says.

The redhead barges past Yelena. She places a hand on Wanda’s shoulder.

“Well hello Romanoff,” Wanda says with a grin.

“Don’t. Why are you talking to y/n? I thought I told you to stay away from these parties,” Natasha says.

“Natasha, hey it’s fine. I can handle myself. We were just talking,” you try to cut in.

“You heard the girl,” Wanda says.

“Leave her alone,” Natasha grits out. “Or I swear to god you will regret it.”

“What are you going to do about it?” Wanda asks, getting in the girl’s face.

“Alright, let’s just calm down here,” Yelena tries to diffuse the situation. “Why don’t you just leave Wanda?”

“I have a right to be here,” Wanda says.

The girl is taller than Natasha, but Nat doesn’t back down. Not even slightly.

They stare each other down for what feels like forever before Carol, whose party this is in the first place, comes over to the group of you.

“All of you have to go,” Carol says. “Come on, Natasha, I thought you were better than this.”

“Whatever,” Nat mumbles. You and Yelena follow her to the car. Yelena apologizes to Kate.

“Hey, you can’t just do that shit to me Nat! I was just talking to her!” You yell.

“Just get in the car,” Nat instructs.

“Get in, y/n,” Yelena says.

You relent and get into the car.

The next morning you see Natasha sitting on the balcony overlooking the beach. You take a deep breath and walk toward her.

“Hey Natasha,” you say. She lifts up her head from the book she’s reading. “Can we talk?”

She doesn’t reply but she pulls out the chair next to her and gestures to it.

“I don’t think it was cool that you interrupted me and Wanda last night,” you say. “Nothing was going to happen.”

Nat shakes her head. “You need to stay away from her.”

“I can handle myself.”

“I know. I know- it’s just that I have the urge to protect you,” Nat admits. “Maybe I did overreact though. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” you say.

“So, are you going to the carnival tonight?” Nat asks. It’s the first effort she’s made at small talk all week.

“I think so, yeah. Yel wants to go,” you say. “What about you?”

“Maria wants to go, but I would rather just stay here and read,” Natasha says.

“Are you- um- dating Maria?”

Natasha seems to think about it for a moment. “No, but we’ve gone out a few times. She’s pretty and nice, but it’s nothing serious.”

“Right,” you say. You see Yelena come towards the balcony, so you excuse yourself. “I’ll see you later.”

Before Nat can reply, you’re out the door and Yelena fills the empty seat next to her. She sits in it sideways, and half of her legs end up in Natasha’s lap.

“I’m sorry about last night,” Natasha says.

“I know you are,” Yelena says. “But I do want to ask you why you got so defensive of y/n. We’re not little kids anymore, you know.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Nat says. She looks out over the water and the morning sky.

“You do know.”

“I don’t.”

“Natasha,” Yelena says sternly.

“Yelena,” the redhead matches her tone. “Fine. I may possibly be somewhat into her.”

“I knew it!” Yelena says. “Ever since last summer you’ve been weird about her!”

“Shut up,” Natasha says. “It’s just a crush. It’s stupid.”

“I don’t think it’s stupid,” Yelena says. “She’s beautiful. I’ve even had my moments this summer where I think about her.”

“Yeah?”

“Yep,” Yelena says. “But liking your best friend is a shitty idea.”

“I don’t know about that,” Natasha says. “Odds are she doesn’t like either of us.”

“That’s probably true,” Yelena says.

The two sisters laugh and start talking about other stuff. You didn’t mean to overhear their conversation. And you definitely shouldn’t have stayed once they started talking about you, but you did, and you can’t believe both girls like you. You don’t even always like yourself.

For the rest of the day, you mostly avoid the girls. It wasn’t too hard since Melina and your mom asked you to go shopping with them. Melina always does too much and buys you more clothes than you could ever need. But it’s a fun day, nonetheless.

When you get back to the house, Yelena is waiting for you by the stairs. She is wearing a swimsuit and you can’t pretend not to notice. You never let yourself think of her like this, but God she is beautiful. She follows you up the stairs.

“Are you still down to go to the carnival tonight?” Yelena asks.

“Yeah. Who else is going?” You ask.

“I was thinking just us. Like old times,” Yelena responds. A cute smile is on her face.

“Sounds perfect. I’ll get changed.”

In your room, you wonder what you should wear. It’s just two old friends going to the carnival, you remind yourself. You slip on a dress and go to Yelena’s room.

You knock on the door frame. “You ready?”

“Yes,” she says, turning from her vanity. “You look good.”

“Thank you,” you reply a little shyly. “So do you.”

She’s wearing high-waisted blue jean shorts and a green crop top. Her eyes are perfectly accented by the color.

Yelena drives to the pier and you two enter the carnival. You play all of the usual games and eat way too much food. She asks you to go on the Ferris wheel with her.

“I’m scared of heights,” you remind her.

“It’ll be fun! I promise I’ll keep you safe! Please!” the girl begs.

“Alright, fine,” you relent.

You wait in line and sit in the seat together. It starts going up and you hold her hand.

“You’re good, detka. You’re good,” Yelena says.

“What does that mean?” You ask before you bury your face in her neck in fear.

She laughs and soon you come to a halt at the top.

“Y/n, look,” Yelena says. She uses her hand to pull your head from her and you peak out at the view. “Look how beautiful it is.”

“Oh, wow,” you say, looking at the way the moon falls over the ocean. You accidentally glance too far down and scare yourself again.

“Woah, hey you’re alright, malysh. Relax,” Yelena says. “Just look at me.”

And you do. You look at her eyes. And her perfect lips. Her hands on either side of your face brush softly against your skin.

“Yelena-”

You’re cut off by her lips on yours. They’re so soft and gentle. It doesn’t feel odd at all to kiss your best friend, but you’re not sure if sparks are flying either. The kiss breaks when the Ferris wheel starts moving again.

“That was-”

“Yeah,” you interrupt Yelena this time. “I didn’t know you- um- liked me like that.”

“I honestly didn’t realize it until this summer,” Yelena explains.

“Look Yelena, maybe we should just be friends?”

“Oh.”

“Not that that kiss wasn’t amazing or anything! But I just don’t want things to get fucked up, you know,” you explain.

“Right. No, you’re making sense,” Yelena says. She wonders if maybe Nat was right.

“You should text Kate,” you tell her. The ride is over, and you hop off. “I’m going to head out.”

“I’ll drive you,” Yelena says.

“That’s okay. Kate is here and you two should hang out.”

Yelena pulls you into a long hug. “I love you, y/n.”

“I love you too, Yelena,” you say.

You catch a ride with another friend of yours, Monica. She takes you to the beach house. You thank her and catch sight of Natasha in the pool.

“So, you didn’t make it to the carnival?” you ask her.

“Nah,” Nat says. “You did?”

“Yep,” you say.

You sit on the edge and put your feet in the pool. Nat swims over to you. Her red hair looks beautiful as it falls over her back.

“How was it?” Natasha asks.

“Eventful,” is all you supply. “How was your night?”

“TBD,” she says.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Join me?” She asks.

“In the pool?”

“Where else?”

“I’m not in a swimsuit,” you say.

“So? Like old times, come on,” Natasha says. The alluring smile on her face doesn’t leave you room to argue.

You let her pull you into the pool. She holds you under the water like she did when you were kids.

“Hey!” you splash her with water when you come up to the surface. “Meanie!”

“Meanie? What are you seven?”

“Shut up,” you say.

Natasha tries to grab you to pull you under again, but you escape her grasp. She pushes you against the wall and you’re pinned by her. Her legs intertwine with yours. Natasha’s lips hover just inches from yours.

“You’re so beautiful,” Nat says. Her voice is barely above a whisper. “Can I kiss you?”

Your heart is screaming yes, but your mind is in dilemma.

“Y/n?” Nat tries.

“Yeah- yes please,” you say. Fuck it.

Natasha smiles and pulls you by the neck into a kiss. It’s rougher than the one with Yelena. It’s hungrier and more handsy. Nat’s hand slips under the neckline of your dress.

“Wait,” you say into the kiss.

Natasha pulls away and looks at you. “What’s wrong? I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. I just- I can’t do this right now,” you say.

You get out of the pool quickly and leave Natasha there confused. And Yelena was watching the whole thing from the driveway.

God, what kind of mess have you gotten yourself into?

[sserajeans]

i'm a chef

kang haerin x fem! reader

synopsis: minji left haerin and y/n (mostly y/n) in charge of food for the group's mini new year celebration, and y/n just wanted to give her girlfriend a chance to redeem herself.

others + genre: fluff, established relationship that the members know about, 6th member reader, y/n kinda the designated chef of newji, like shes so good she puts hanni to shame

notes: requested!, kinda proof read, hope this was what you had in mind!!

"and don't burn the dorm down!"

you sighed. you liked the idea of being alone with haerin for a while. she was always more open that way, but having to cook a meal for all 6 of you alone while she sits and looks pretty for your moral support? the rest of the members went out for last minute shopping and cake-buying, leaving you and haerin to prepare dinner.

despite being together for almost a year now (yes you got together predebut), you've never found yourself in a cooking situation with haerin. you preferred working with hanni, not that your girlfriend minded anyways, she avoided kitchen duty with her life.

but haerin's cooking can't be that bad.... right?

"unnie said you can fry eggs at best." haerin shot a glare your way while rinsing the vegetables you picked out from the dorm's fridge.

"okay sorry! you can't blame me though... you don't help me out when i cook." you held your hands up in the air as you kneeled to pick out the raw chicken from the freezer.

"you make me sound like a bad girlfriend..." the cat-eyed girl muttered, turning the sink's faucet off once the bowl of vegetables was full of water.

you chuckled and crept up behind her, whispering "well you're helping me now, aren't you?" as you reached for the kitchen knife in the drawer beside her. a light blush grew on her face from the proximity as well.

"besides, you always seem to have bathroom troubles whenever i ask for help."

the side comment sent haerin and you bursting into laughter. she left the bowl of dry and now-rinsed vegetables beside you as instructed. you refused to let her help with the chopping in fear she'd get hurt, especially since she wasn't used to preparing the dish you were making.

"anything else you need me to do?"

"can you preheat the oven? there should be instructions on my phone."

she nodded and skipped to the living room where you left your phone charging by the tv set. after spending a solid minute staring at your lockscreen (a photo of her that you took from a night walk when you guys were filming in spain), she typed in your password and briefly read the instructions before placing it back down.

after turning knobs on the oven that haerin hoped were the right ones, she sat on one of the countertop's chairs and pulled out her phone, taking what seemed like a million candid photos of you chopping vegetables.

"hey i didn't know paparazzi made it in the dorms!" you looked up with a wide smile after chopping the the last potato. you playfully reached over to cover her camera, by which she fought back by leaning over side to side as quick as she could.

the little chasing game had the couple giggling endlessly before you got tired and gave up, muttering a "you win". you walked around the counter and leaned on haerin's back, head on her right shoulder and arms loosely wrapped around her waist.

you watched intently as your girlfriend opened twitter with the group account.

"yah don't post the video....." haerin began giggling again, pretending to not have heard you as she began composing a caption on the tweet.

"baby please omg..." you faced her side profile as she still seemed like she wasn't going to budge. "please i can't have tokkis thinking i'm a loser.."

your plead turned only into a caption idea as she began typing "BREAKING NEWS: our cool y/n is a loser" on the tweet.

"baby that's so funny.... haha you know what else is funny? you picking the films.... for our movie nights next month haha.... ha.." your arms' grip around her waist grew tighter as you began showering her whole head, and i mean, whole head with kisses in between your sentences.

haerin was now laughing uncontrollably, typing the "#해린 #YN #뉴진스" tags on the tweet and attaching the video she just took. in between laughter, she managed to let out a "sorry pretty... it was too funny not to share."

you stumbled over to the couch and threw yourself on it face first, mumbling about how your cool girl image was over and that you'll never be the same again. this went on for a solid minute before you stood up and walked back to the kitchen, remembering the task your leader left you with in the first place.

"you were able to preheat the oven a while ago right?"

"yeah. the knobs dont go all the way to 600 though so i just left it at the highest possible."

"....600?"

"like the instructions?"

well fuck.

you ran back to your now fully charged phone, unlocking it quickly and reading through the instructions. after confirming the information, you ran back to the oven and twisted the knob to 250, like how it should've been.

a sigh of relief escaped your lips as you slowly walked back to your confused girlfriend. "rinnie... it didn't even say 600 it said 60."

haerin looked at you with a mix of amusement, remorse, and shock. "oh...."

you rolled your eyes playfully before leaning over and kissing her cheek. "yeah. oh."

the two of you shared another couple of minutes laughing at what just happened, and how you both almost actually burned the dorm down. she leaned her head on your shoulder as you fiddled with the ends of her hair, slowly dropping another kiss on her forehead.

"you're never going near the stove and oven again."

"i'm not saying i'm not complaining, but... yeah i'm not complaining."

later that night hyein bursted through the dorms asking why "haeyn" was trending all over twitter. haerin giggled while you read through tweets under the tag, coming across the follow up tweet you didn't see haerin post as well.

[steddieasitgoes]

@steddiemas Day 21 Prompt: Home and/or Dinner

I honestly think this is my favorite one yet!

Tags: Pre-Relationship Steddie, Eddie Munson Has A Crush On Steve Harrington, Holiday Parties, Overstimulation (the bad kind, not the fun kind), Steve Harrington Is A Sweetheart

wc: 2215 | Rating: G

Read on ao3 | ao3 collection

The holidays were always a quiet affair at the Munsons.

A few gifts, wrapped in week-old copies of the Hawkins Post, placed under a modest tree from Merrill’s. Wayne’s famous (well, famous to Eddie) chocolate chip pancakes in the morning with a questionable amount of syrup and a reheated casserole from Ms. Jenkins down the street for dinner.

No church or family plans, just the two of them, a couple of beers (root beer in Eddie’s case until a few years ago), and whatever movie Eddie had insisted they watch before he turned the TV over to Wayne and the Christmas basketball game.

It was good. Great, even.

Eddie loved his holiday traditions with Wayne.

He did, but sometimes he’d catch sight of Ms. Jenkins welcoming her brood of kids and grandkids into her cluttered trailer or spot Gerald loading the passenger seat of his pickup with toys for his nieces and nephews and wonder what it would be like to have a big family to spend the holidays with.

Turns out, it’s loud.

So, very, loud.

The Hopper-Byers’ new house is bursting at the seams with guests. The entire We Survived The End of the World gang is here along with some guests — Wayne and Ms. Henderson. Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair stopped by for about an hour before excusing themselves to finish up holiday shopping (said in a hushed tone to not ruin Santa for Erica — as if she still believes, Eddie had thought). But mostly it was just the usual gang.

Eddie learned, in the form of Dustin’s “you’re being stupid” voice that it's become a tradition for them. Gathering a week before the holidays to pig out on food and dessert, play games, and exchange presents. Celebrate the year coming to an end and them making it.

As the apocalypse gang grew every year, the celebration got bigger and bigger until they were tripping over each other inside of the Byers house. That is, until this year when Joyce and Hopper got their shit together and finally moved into a decent-sized house on the outskirts of Hawkins. It’s no Loch Nora mini-mansion, but it works for them — even if it's still a tight fit when everyone is together.

Murray, Joyce, and Ms. Henderson are gathered in the kitchen — arguing over when to take the turkey out of the oven and the proper milk-to-cheese ratio in macaroni casseroles. A small radio sits in the corner, attempting to play Christmas music over the static. That’s the con about living farther out, Eddie supposes.

El and Max have claimed a fold-out table on the outskirts of the kitchen where they’ve been decorating cookies for hours, it seems. El’s simple and artistic, Max’s a chaotic mess of spilled-over frosting and candy sprinkles. (Eddie’s stolen one from each and thinks they’re both delicious much to their delight.)

The den’s been co-opted by Hopper and Wayne, and the TV volume turned all the way up (“We can hear just fine! It’s you kids that are making it hard,” Hopper gruffed when one of them pointed out the volume). They’re switching between basketball games while nursing beers and pretending not to hear the argument going down in the kitchen.

Jonathan and Argyle are hiding out in his room — smoking and trying to drown out the noise with whatever record he managed to pick up from the store he’s working at. Eddie thought about joining him, but the scowl he earned from Wheeler Jr. had him changing course.

The rest of them have taken refuge in the spacious basement. It’s too chaotic for Dungeons & Dragons so the boys and Erica have taken to playing an intense game of Monopoly. The threats he’s heard hurled at each other have been clever and downright terrifying. Way worse than anything they’ve uttered at his DM table. Those heathens.

For some reason, Steve’s taken on the role of the banker. Something about Dustin skimming from the top last time he held the role and played. Now, house rules say the banker has to be an NPC, and well, Steve fits the bill. Unfortunately, he seems to be struggling with the math of it all judging by the scoffs and annoyed eye rolls thrown his way. Eddie would go help, but he doesn’t think he’d be much help. Godspeed, Steve.

Nancy and Robin are there too, sprawled out on the couch and lost in their own little world. Occasionally Robin gets up to flip the record on the record player, but mostly they sit together, gossiping and talking about who knows what in hushed voices. Eddie might understand every little thing about dungeons and hobbits, but girl talk? That’s an alien language if he’s ever seen one.

As for him? Well, he’s hovering in the middle of it all. With Steve occupied, he’s taken on his babysitter role of sorts. Racing up and down the stairs to fetch whatever snacks the gremlins demand, rustling Max and El’s hair on the way in, and nodding at Hopper and Wayne on the way out. He narrowly escapes being sucked into being the official judge for the impromptu Murray vs Ms. Henderson pie off and almost makes it up to Jonathan and Argyle’s room before Dustin is bellowing for him.

It’s fun, mostly.

Getting to see everyone relaxed and having fun. A far cry from the last time they were all together like this back in March.

In some ways, it's what Eddie’s always dreamed it would be like. Being part of a big family, a cog in a never-ending machine of noise and organized chaos.

But it’s also becoming a lot.

Lucas is about to put a hotel on Boardwalk that has everyone shouting and throwing their own pieces at his head. Steve’s trying to keep them under control but it's a losing battle. One that pulls Robin and Nancy from their own little world to join the chaos.

And then there’s even more noise.

A crash from upstairs, the blaring voice of Joe Strummer coming from Jonathan’s room, more shouting, Wayne and Hoppers stopping, and giggles from Max and El.

Suddenly all Eddie can hear is noise.

It gets louder and louder and louder until finally, he’s certain his eardrums are going to explode.

Taking the stairs two at a time, he pushes through the chaos going on upstairs (dropped pies and frosting stains and shouting at TVs) and makes his way onto the wrap-around porch.

The crisp cold air is the first thing that hits him. Like an idiot, he ran out of the house without a coat or scarf or hell, even the warm hat Ms. Henderson knitted for him earlier in the month. He shivers, rubbing his hands up and down his bare arm as he tries to take deep breaths, watching as his warm breath twirls in the breeze.

As his body adjusts, so do his ears. He can still hear the chaos going on inside, but it's muffled now. Distant. He can hear himself think for the first time in hours and for once, it’s nice.

The snow is falling in slow but steady flakes, dusting the backyard in the white. Or, it should be white, but the hoard of Christmas lights decorating the house illuminates the backyard in reds and greens. It’s a real Christmas wonderland out there, now.

Reaching into the pocket of his jeans, he pulls out a pack of cigarettes and his trusty lighter. The first inhale of nicotine warms him from the inside out, sending the goosebumps packing as he focuses on his steady and slow inhale and exhales.

At some point he zones out, so focused on the snow falling and the repetitive nature of lifting the cigarette to and from his lips that he doesn’t hear the creak of the door or the heavy footsteps that follow until the intruder is standing shoulder to shoulder with him.

“Figured you might be needing this,” Steve says, hand outstretched with Eddie’s coat.

“Thanks, man.”

They swap, Eddie takes the coat from Steve and Steve takes the lit cigarette from Eddie, keeping it safe while he shimmies his way into the monstrosity that he calls his winter coat. When he’s finally situated in the plaid nightmare, he reaches a hand out ready to take his cigarette back only to find it perched between Steve’s lips.

Oh.

That’s different.

Sure, they’ve smoked together before. Bummed off cigarettes in the ally behind Family Video and in the parking lot of Palace Arcade waiting for the gremlins to be done. But they’ve never shared the same one. Never pressed their lips to the same filter. Felt the dampness of their mouths on their own lips.

“Sorry,” Steve says, lips turning up in a small smile as he removes the cigarette. “Couldn’t help myself.”

Eddie nods, unable to say much else as their fingertips brush when he takes it back. Is it weird if he puts it between his lips right now? Is he supposed to wait a minute? Let Steve’s taste linger for a moment. God, he’s being so weird right now. In the end, he brings the cigarette to his lips and takes the smallest inhale, nearly coughing as the smoke floods his lungs because he’s so distracted by the way the filter feels different now that it’s been in Steve’s mouth — as if that makes any sense.

“You okay? You sort of booked it out of the room.”

“Yeah,” Eddie sighs, before leaning against the banister of the porch. “Yeah, m’good. It just—“

“Got too loud?” Steve supplies, mirroring his position. “I get it. I remember my first holiday dinner. There were a lot less of us in ’83 but shit. It was still so loud.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m a pretty loud son of a bitch.” Eddie’s caught off guard by Steve’s snorting. Stealing a glance, he finds Steve lit up in reds and greens, a smile etched on his face so deep he can see the spot where smile lines are going to emerge in the next ten years, catching the way his eyes already wrinkle in the corners. Fuck, he’s beautiful. “But, uh, yeah, I don’t think I’ve ever been in a house that loud before. Not even when I’m fucking around with the Corroded Coffin boys.”

“Well, I doubt that. Your music is very loud.”

“Uh, yeah, ‘cause it's metal, Steve.”

“So I’ve been told,” Steve says, smiling that soft, private smile again.

If Eddie was braver, he’d close the distance between them and press his lips to his. But if this year has taught him anything, it’s that he’s not. Not really. So he lets a quiet fall between them instead. They continue to stand shoulder to shoulder, passing the dwindling cigarette between them despite the pack in Eddie’s pocket being brand new, and watch as the snow steadily starts to pick up.

“You know,” Steve says, then stops.

Eddie turns, watching the gears tick in Steve’s brain as he decides what to say next. It’s magical watching it all pass on his face — the knit of his brows, his pupils dilating and returning to their normal size, letting the hazel shine through. The way his lips open and close like some gasping fish.

“If it ever gets to be too much, you can tell us. Tell me. Hell, I know I need a break after a few hours with those shitheads. Maybe we could come up with a code word or something.”

“A codeword? That’s might nerdy of you, Steve.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve says, waving his hand through the air as he bites back a chuckle. “But yeah, a code word. It’d be easier to say than “hey it’s too loud and I can’t think” you know. Plus, it would annoy the shit out of Henderson.”

“Well, then. Count me in. You know I love annoying the shit out of that kid. Gotta keep that ego in check somehow.”

They spend the next few minutes going back and forth trying to decide on a word that could work. Steve wants something common — a fruit or a vegetable. Eddie disagrees, saying it has to be something uncommon so they don’t accidentally say it, but common enough that it doesn’t sound weird casually being dropped in conversation.

They wrack their brain, throwing out silly words left and right until there’s a crash from inside. Their heads swivel in tandem toward the source of the noise. A flurry of shadows passes on the other side of the window as Steve shakes his head and sighs.

“Come on,” he says, handing the cigarette back to Eddie. “If we’re not at the table the minute the food gets served, we won’t be eating. The gremlins know no manner.”

Eddie laughs, stubbing out the cigarette on the ashtray precariously balanced on the banister, “Teaching ‘em manners seems like a job for their babysitter.”

“Nah,” Steve snorts. “Maybe one for their Dungeon Master, though.”

Just as the words leave Steve’s lip, there’s a shout from inside followed by another crash.

“Think it might be a job for both of us, actually,” Eddie laughs. “Together?”

“We need all the help we can get,” Steve says. “Together it is.” 

[ray-ray-writings]

My Cinderella AU with Schlatt

Welp... Who would have thought that Schlatt would be the one out of all of the MCYTs to NOT be outed as an abuser....

Anywho, I watched the Cinderella movie with Camila Cabello and instantly wanted to write an AU of my own of Cinderella but I didn't want to put in the work to create my own new characters and establish them and all of that fun stuff. So I did what I do best, toss already established characters into a storyline. What a weird piece of work to post on my blog after several years...

But here you go, 16.3k words of a Cinderella AU with reader as Cinderella and Schlatt as Prince Charming. If you read, I appreciate you. Consider leaving a like, comment, and/or reblog and tell me whatcha liked about it. No pressure tho <3.

Summary: A Cinderella AU in which reader is a baker and Schlatt is a Prince. the two meet in a market square where the reader in turns insults Schlatt to his face without realizing who they're talking to and the story of the relationship that then ensues.

Pairing: JSchlatt x Gender Neutral!Reader (I tried to keep in gender neutral but I may have slipped here and there, if you notice any parts that happens let me know and I'll fix it!

Mostly fluff with a touch of angst

Content Warnings: all warnings that typically come with cinderella: ie dead parents, shitty step family, reader being told she doesn't deserve good things, the word papi... like twice... you'll see. The use of "Jonathon" being Schlatt's "real" first name, Swearing, second person POV, when the text is in italics it's as if it's following Schlatt in third POV, i hope that makes sense, shitty writing at the end because I still haven't figured out how to end stories uwu.

Please let me know if I missed anything.

Once Upon a Time,

You lived with your stepmother and two stepsisters. Your mother died when you were young. She died after being thrown from a horse, hitting her head off the ground, and never waking up. 

Your father had remarried within a year, but had swore to never love again. He married simply because he knew he was sick and didn’t want to die and leave you alone if he were to die when you were a minor. Sure enough, he passed when you were 15. 

One thing your parents had gifted you before their passing is your love for baking. You could bake like nobody’s business. You had tried to get a job at the bakery when you had come of age but the baker didn’t appreciate your helpful tips on what to improve on and what would make his baked goods taste better. So you just bake and hang out in the square, selling to those that know you and know of your business. 

You did your best to spend most of your time out of your home as your stepfamily was not kind to you. They teased and taunted you and made your life hell. You would have left the moment you were of age, but you had nowhere else to go. This was your family’s home, you didn’t make enough money baking on the side to justify moving out. So you were just waiting to meet someone who would sweep you off your feet and carry you away from here. 

It’s not ideal, but that is the way that life is. 

Across the land, Prince Schlatt was born and raised in the castle. He was waited on hand foot, life served to him on a silver platter. But the boy grew to a man with a kind heart, even if it tended to hide behind sarcasm and taunts. His father, King Philza, had done his best to teach Schlatt how to be a great ruler while his mother, Queen Kristen, had done her best to teach him how to be a loving man. 

Schlatt loves his parents, but sometimes wanted to be his own man without his parent’s hovering over his shoulder telling him who to be. To be who he wanted to be, without the weight of the kingdom on his shoulders.

King Philza has been harping on him for rejecting so many marriage proposals, lecturing him on how important it was for him to find a suitable match before his coronation so that everything was in order before it was time for him to take over the throne. 

Schlatt has always given the same response, “I don’t to marry just anyone. I want to marry for love, father, just like you.” 

Philza would roll his eyes but say nothing more on the subject until the next day. Kristen was always proud of the way her son would respond, but never interrupted the two. The supportive smile she always sent Schlatt as he left was incredibly telling though.

One of the only good things about your stepfamily was that they stayed out of the kitchen. Your stepmother learned quickly about how well you could cook and bake from how you always made meals for your father that she never felt the need to cook herself. Instead, she found it easier to boss you around and force you to cook for her and her daughters. 

You found you didn’t mind it though, the kitchen was your happy place. It was one of the only spaces where you knew that you wouldn’t be bothered, that for a moment while you rolled out dough or poured some batter you could pretend like everything in your life was perfect.

You needed more ingredients. For baking and for dinners. You had left the house with the small amount of money that your stepmother had given you and made your way to the market square. In your basket, a number of sweet treats to sell for your pocket cash to your normal customers after you run your errands. 

The sun feels nice on your face. You’re used to heat pressing into the as you stand over a hot stove or an open oven, so the sunlight shining on you makes you feel slightly at home. Comfortable even. Maybe a bit too comfortable and unaware of your surroundings because it’s not too long while you’re lost in thought before you slam into someone. The basket flies out of your hand and tumbles to the ground, several of the treats falling to the ground. 

You let out a gasp as you fall onto your butt on the ground. The man you have bumped into lets out a quiet “oh shit,” before reaching down and picking up some of the treats that have fallen out. 

“Sorry about that,” he murmurs, reaching out a hand for you to take. You carefully take his hand, allowing your eyes to scan the stranger. The first thing that you notice is his eyes. They’re fucking beautiful. The pools of dark chestnut brown bore into yours so deeply it momentarily takes your breath away. You’re able to see the way they fill with concern all the while they flick down and examine you, if you were of more a mind, you would blush. 

The next thing you notice is the mask that covers the lower half of his face. You stop your brows from furrowing at the sight. You continue to observe him. You note the way that his brown hair is pulled back, which is what allowed you to see his eyes so strikingly before. His clothes are a bit on the fancier side of those that come to the market. He’s strong too, you can tell by the way he pulls you up from the ground with no real effort exerted. His hands are on the softer side. He feels familiar but you can’t place where you know him. 

Oh fuck. You’re the prettiest person Schaltt has ever seen. He’s been introduced to countless nobles, never ending royalty, long lines of commoners, but none of them could compare to how absolutely stunning you look right now. And he’s just made a huge ass full of himself by running into you and sending some of your baked goods AND you flying to the ground. At least he was smart enough to wear a mask to hide his face and therefore his identity. He knows his facial hair is incredibly recognizable. Even if he wasn’t presenting as the crowned prince, he better make this right. 

“It’s alright,” you respond once you’ve shaken yourself out of your stupor, reaching for your basket. He quickly hands it back to you. You do a quick inventory and note that about a third of your stock had fallen to the ground. “Great, just great,” you murmur quietly to yourself. 

“Again, I’m so sorry about that… let me replace what you’ve lost. Allow me to walk you to the bakery so you can buy more.” The stranger says, motioning toward the bakery, his eyes never leaving yours. 

The laugh you let out causes the man’s shoulders to deflate, causing you to clear your throat and instantly start explaining. “No, no, sorry. I’m not laughing at you. Rather laughing at the thought of me buying anything from that fucking guy.” 

His brows furrow as he looks at the pastries. “You didn’t get them from the baker? Where did you get them from then?” 

“I made them myself.” You answer simply, giving a small shrug. “The baker didn’t want to hire me and so I bake them at my house and sell them on the square to a few people.” 

His brows hit the top of his forehead. “Oh shit, really? I guess I just made you lose income then, huh? Let me pay for them then.”

“Oh, no really it’s okay. It was an accident. Don’t worry about it.” 

“No really. I insist. Please. It’s the least I can do.” He states before digging into his pockets and pulling out 5 gold pieces and pressing them into your hand. 

You stare at the gold in shock. “Sir, I can’t accept this. I only charge 2 copper for one cookie. This is far too much, please take it back.” 

Schaltt panics. It’s been forever since he’s had an economics class and he isn’t sure how much money is a lot of money to common folk. He realizes 5 gold is probably a bit too much, especially after you tell him of what you usually charge. It’s too late to back out now. 

“Nah,” he answers. “I guess it just means you have to give me the rest that’s in the basket.” 

Without hesitation, you hold the basket out for him to take. He’s surprised by your quick movement but carefully takes the basket from your hands. He grabs the cloth that covers the basket gently and carefully pulls it back, revealing a plethora of baked goods, the sight makes his mouth water. “Woah, these look professionally made.” 

You let out a huff and puff out your chest a bit more. “Well I am a professional. And they would look better, but someone caused the basket to hit the ground.” 

His laugh may be the most beautiful thing you have ever heard. It makes your heart flutter and you have to will the heat to not flood your cheeks. “I apologized for that already,” He teases. 

“Yeah well, it still happened didn’t it,” you shoot back. 

He laughs again, which surprises you. Most people would have called you rude by now and left you to stand here alone. But not this strange stranger. You don’t mind his presence though. “You’re funny…” He trails off

You realize he’s waiting for your name and you supply it to him. He echos it back, stating it slowly as if to savor every syllable, to test how it feels on his tongue and his teeth before he hums. “I’m charmed to meet your acquaintance,” He states, reaching out grabbing your hand, bending at the waist, and pressing the back of your hand to his masked lips. It takes everything in you to will the blood to NOT rush to your cheeks. 

He drops your hand before straightening up. “Now if you don’t mind, I will be trying one of these delectable looking desserts.” 

He reaches into the basket and pulls out a chocolate chocolate-chip cookie. “Oh fuck yes. These are my fucking favorite.” 

You can’t stop the grin and giggle that escapes you.

The stranger turns from you and for a moment your heart falls and your stomach turns as you think that he’s walking away from you. But you’re able to see his hand move up to the lower half of his face and you realize he’s pulling his mask down in order to eat. You quickly look away to give the man his privacy. You may be curious as to what he looks like, but you value respecting his choices above all else. 

Holy fuck it’s one of the tastiest things he’s ever eaten. His eyes close as he groans at the taste that fills his mouth. He’s glad he had the sense to turn around and his face and expression from you. He couldn’t imagine how embarrassing he looks right now. 

You hear him let out a groan of approval and you can only assume that something has hit his tongue. “This is delicious.” Your assumptions are confirmed as his voice comes out muffled from the food in his mouth. 

“Don’t speak with your mouth full,” you chide, looking at the bustling people of the market stalls.

Schlatt chuckles, pulling the mask back up and turning back to face you. He’s stunned for a moment to not meet your eyes. Realizing why you’re angled and looking the way that you are. His own heart skips a beat before he clears his throat. He takes a moment to chew and swallow before softly letting you know you’re good to look. 

You’re slightly disappointed to find the mask still in its place but you understand the want for privacy perhaps more than most. “So it was good then?” You ask. 

He nods enthusiastically. “It was fucking amazing. I can’t wait to get back to the castle and try the rest of them.” He says, realizing a moment too late his slip. 

Your brows hit the top of your forehead, “The castle? Do you live in the castle?” You can’t stop the question that falls from your lips.

“Yeah, I’m a guard. I live in the castle, and I’m a guard. Today’s my day off.” He explains. His words are rushed, but who are you to question a man you just met.

You give a couple nods, “I see,” you state simply, “That makes sense.” 

Internally Schlatt lets out a loud breath of relief that you bought the lie. The castle has been his home his entire life and he wasn’t thinking when he spoke so he’s glad you easily bought his excuse of being a guard.

“It makes sense considering you just handed me 5 gold like it’s not more than I will make in two months and King Philza makes sure that the guards get paid an excellent salary… not that he makes sure the rest of the citizens get paid the same. But that’s neither here nor there.” You huff. 

The stranger’s brows lift. “What do you mean by that?” 

Your face burns as you catch what you just admitted. “Oh nothing.” You rush. “Sorry you probably are more than happy with the decisions the king makes. Not to imply anything. Sorry.” 

“No, no it’s alright. I want to hear it.” 

And want to hear it, he does. No one has the guts to speak so plainly to him when they’re around him. So he wants to hear it. The good, the bad and the ugly. 

You clear your throat and square your shoulders. “Well if you insist. Often it feels like the king, the whole royal family really, doesn’t care about those that do not live in the castle. I can’t get a job because no one can afford to hire anyone because everyone is just barely scraping by. It’s like he can’t see past his own front lawn. Which sucks because everyone talks about what a great guy he is, but sometimes I don’t think he’s a very good king.”

Schlatt hums in acknowledgement. You bring up some really good points. He also sometimes feels like his father forgets he’s supposed to be ruling for the people and isn’t supposed to be ruling his son’s life… speaking of. “Well I’m sure you can’t wait for his son to take over the throne then? Schlatt?” He is instantly startled by the loud laughter that bubbles from your throat.

“Schlatt? That big, petty,  man-baby? Yeah. Sure. I’m excited to see how that big man-baby decides to rule the kingdom. You know, I heard that he grew those mutton chops to make himself more unattractive to potential suitors. I think he didn’t realize how fucking good he looks with them. At least from what I’ve seen from a distance. I think he makes them work, and I’m definitely not the only one in the kingdom that agrees. I think he just needs to bite the bullet and just… I don’t know. Do it.” 

Schlatt once again thanks his past self profusely for the idea of wearing a mask to hide his face because he can feel the way his cheeks heat up to what he is sure is a bright red. You’re not particularly wrong. That was the original thought. To make himself look unkempt and not put together in an attempt to drive away potential suitors but he grew to like how they looked and grew fond of the hair. 

“I don’t think he should just bite the bullet and marry the first person that asks for his hand” he defends, “I think he wants to marry for love. Not for some political alliance. I think that’s admirable.” 

“Oh I agree. My apologies. That’s not what I meant. I meant he needs to bite the bullet and be fucking honest with the kingdom. The news that we get from the castle is that he’s the one that’s been rejected. That he wants to find the perfect alliance. That he wants what’s best for the kingdom. And while I agree that maybe he does, he needs to be fucking honest with us and tell us the truth. That he’s looking for love. Not what would ‘be best for the kingdom.’ We don’t mind that’s what’s happening, it’s the fact we’re being lied to, ya know?”

“Huh, so that’s the news that is coming out of the castle… I’ll have to talk to someone about that.” 

Your breath catches slightly. “Shit. Sorry. I don’t want to get either of us in trouble. Forget me and my words. I know not of what I speak.” 

“No, sweets. You have valid points. They deserve to be heard. I won’t mention your name if you wish. But I will make them hear me. I’m actually rather close with the prince.” He can’t help but internally snicker to himself. Closer than you know. 

The blood drains from your face. “Of course you are. Of course I complain about the prince to someone that has direct connection with him… fuck. Okay. Cool. Good to know. Well… I have to go. I have to get my ingredients still and I must be home before stepmother gets there. It was a pleasure meeting you.” You state quickly before attempting to rush past him. 

You're stopped by his hand grasping your shoulder gently, causing you to turn around to face him. “Will I ever see you again?” 

The way he asks is so soft and gentle. It causes your heart to pound loudly and the breath to pause in your throat. “Maybe,” you breathe out. 

The two of you stare at each other for a moment more before it hits you. “I have a carrier pigeon. I’ll send it with a letter to the castle and we can talk like that. Maybe sometime we can meet again. Maybe on one of your days off.” 

The man’s beautiful brown eyes light up with delight. “That would be amazing. I look forward to hearing from you.” He allows his hand to trail from your shoulder, down your arm, to your hand, and he lifts the hand to his lips before placing a kiss to it. He gives you a soft wink as he drops your hand. You turn away as you blush, willing yourself to calm down. 

“Oh!” You startle, “I forgot to ask your name-“ the words die on your lips to find the spot next to you vacated with the tall stranger nowhere in sight. “Great. Just great… well. I better get going. Those cookies won’t bake themselves.” 

Schlatt has never felt so giddy. He can’t wait to hear from you. He also realizes he never gave you a name, he’ll just have to keep his eye out for a new and unfamiliar carrier pigeon.

 

You debate with yourself when you get home what the proper waiting time is for sending a stranger a letter with the pigeon. Because you wrote one as soon as you got home and it was ready to send within two hours of meeting him. Sending one that quickly may spook him. It could cause him to think you’re weird. 

You decide you’ll wait a couple hours, bake cookies and make dinner and then when your stepmother allows you to retire to your room, that is when you’ll send it. And so that is what you do. You check over the letter a thousand times before you tuck it into the envelope and hand it to your carrier pigeon. “To the castle pigeon, look for a man with brown hair and brown eyes… well that’s specific huh?... I really should have gotten his name. Okay… well… I guess we will half to wing it.” You scribble down something on the envelope and hand it to the pigeon who takes it with its foot and flies off to the castle. 

Schlatt is taking a stroll in the gardens, kicking himself for not asking for a better way to contact you. He hadn’t heard anything from you and at this point he’s worrying he never will. He’s spent most of his time analyzing the conversation over and over again in his head and realized that he probably came off too strong and too weird and he will be lucky to ever see you again. 

He jumps as a pigeon lands on his shoulder,to his head snapping to the side to meet the wide, vacant eye of the bird. It gives a soft coo before shaking and moving its foot, drawing attention to the letter in its grasp. His heart leaps to his throat in hope before he swallows and carefully takes it. 

He grins at the writing on the front of the envelope. “Sir Charmed, lover of chocolate chip cookies.” Instantly all his worries melt away as he plucks the letter from its hiding and he reads the words. Once. Twice. A Hundred times. Schlatt rushes inside to carefully compose his response. 

You don’t go a day without hearing from each other for the next couple of weeks. You exchange letters. You tell him about your life and how you got your love of baking, and your want of leaving the house. He tells you the pressures of his job and how sometimes he just wants to run away from it all and explore the world. You make him promise that if he does, he’ll take you with him. He promises. 

You forget to get his name and at this point you’re too embarrassed to ask him for it, instead electing to call him a bunch of nicknames, mainly being Sir Charming, hoping he never catches on. He never seems to. 

The two of you agree to meet up once more, somewhere a little more quiet than the market square, but still public (because you have to be proper.) You’re sure to wear the cutest outfit you can manage to put together and bake the best batches of cookies you’ve ever baked. 

“Where are you going?” Ted asks with his brow raised, watching Schlatt with his arms crossed as Schlatt sneaks through the castle halls. 

Schlatt freezes and slowly turns. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Sureeeee,” Ted draws, not convinced at all. “You’re just creeping through the halls in one of your best outfits going… nowhere.” 

Schlatt sighs, not being able to hide from his best friend. “I’m going to meet them.” 

Ted raises an eyebrow. “Them? The one you’ve been writing all those letters to? Are you sure that’s a good idea” 

“I know that it is. Please. Cover for me?”

Ted sighs but can’t deny Schlatt has been happier in the past couple weeks than he has been for the past couple months. “Okay fine. But you’d better bring me back one of those sugar cookies.” 

Schlatt gives Ted a toothy grin. “We’ll see.” 

You give him a shy smile as he appears. “Hey, you,” you greet standing, wiping your hands on your pants. 

“Hey sweets,” he greets back, his voice muffled through the mask still adorned on his face. You didn’t mind too much. He explained that it made him more comfortable, especially because in his work he has to wear something to cover his face under the helmet, it’s just easier for him to wear it. As much as you want to see his entire face, you were willing to respect his choices. 

“How are you?” 

“Can’t complain, especially now that I get to see your beauty standing before me.” 

You can’t stop the blush that floods your cheeks. “Oh hush. Here. I’ve made you something special.” You tell him, turning and grabbing the special baked good that you made him. “It’s a chocolate chocolate-chip brookie. Or a double chocolate chip cookie baked inside a brownie. I remember you said that you loved brownies and cookies and sometimes can’t choose which to have so I made you both… well two in one.” 

You raise your hand with one of the treats toward him, facing the basket still, still trying to will down the blush on your cheeks.

“Well, don’t mind if I do,” you have to hold in the jump as you feel his soft breath against your hand. You will yourself to stay in place as his lips brush against your outstretched fingers as he gently takes a bite out of the treat in your hand. A loud groan escapes him, similar to the one you heard the day the two of you met. “Okay, I take back everything I’ve said… This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten.” 

All of your hard work is ruined as the blood rushes back to your cheeks into a blush. “What have I told you about talking with your mouth full?” You deflect 

The treat is removed from your hand, his fingers brushing against your palm. “My apologies, your highness.” His words are even more mumbled, telling you he shoved the brookie all the way into his mouth. 

You scoff. “Careful now, you’ll get me hung for treason with that nickname.”

His laugh garbled out around the baked good. “Surely the king isn’t that cruel.” His hand rests on your shoulder and turns you to face him, the mask sitting on his face once again. 

You laugh back and shrug, “I don’t know. I’ve never met the man.” 

“Well I have. So I guess you’ll just have to take my word for it.” 

“Is that so?... I guess I’ll just have to trust you then.” 

You stare into his brilliant and beautiful eyes for a while longer before he moves, clearing his throat and gesturing forward, “Shall we then?” 

“I am getting sick of these games you’re playing, Jonathan.” King Philza booms loudly. 

Schlatt rolls his eyes and crosses his arms in front of his chest. “I’m not playing games with you father, I’ve told you. I want to marry for-”

“For love. I understand. But how can you marry for love when you push away every single option I give you. You haven’t given yourself a chance to fall in love with anyone I have brought before you and I am growing tired of it. If you do not pick someone within the next month, I will be choosing someone for you. End of story. Am I understood?”

Schlatt internally panics. He knew this day was coming. He knew he was pushing his father too far. He had held out for too long. His stomach drops… There’s only one person he could see himself marrying at this point… 

Assuming he had been understood, Philza turns to walk out the door. “Let’s throw a ball,” the words tumble from Schlatt’s lips. 

Phil turns back around with an eyebrow raised. “A ball?”

“You want me to marry quickly. I want to marry for love. So what better way than to throw a ball, invite everyone in the kingdom, emphasizing the invitations for single people, and then I’ll be able to talk and dance with people all night. And I swear to you, if we throw this ball I will find a betrothed by the end of the month.”

Phil is silent for a while. Tossing the words over in his head for a moment before giving a single nod. “So be it.” He then turns and exits the room. 

Schlatt lets out a harsh breath. Well that was easier than expected. Now to convince you to come to a ball. 

It takes less convincing than one might think. 

You get a letter from your Sir Charming, who tells you there will be a ball and that he wants you to come as his guest. He tells you that you’d be able to bring some of your baked goods to give out to nobles to promote your baking, plus you’d be able to see him. You hate to admit how much the latter of the two sold you on the idea. You sent back your acceptance of the invitation. 

The money you’ve gotten from selling your baked goods is supposed to go to a moving out fund, but you can’t help but take out a couple of the gold pieces that he gave you in the first meeting, finding it only fitting that his money buys your outfit for the ball

It’s a really pretty outfit, it fits you well enough, you had to buy it a size larger because they didn’t have your size and you didn’t have enough money to get it tailored. But it didn’t matter that much to you. Your mystery man had seen you in grubbier garment, anything would be a step up from what you met him in. 

The news of the ball gets announced to the entire kingdom, and your stepmother is perhaps more excited than you are. She thinks at least one of her daughters will win the heart of the prince. When you voice your want to go, she forbids you. You tell her that you don’t even want to be in the presence of the prince, you just want to see the snack table, she sneers at you but says nothing further, making you believe that perhaps she will allow you to go. 

You find yourself in your kitchen, finishing up some of the baked goods you were to take to the ball tonight. The loud clacking of your stepmother’s heels echo on the tile, the door swings open, your stepmother enters in a rage. Your heart stops as you look up from your desserts and see your outfit clutched in her hands. 

“What is this?” She hisses, waving the fabric at you as she gets closer. 

“My outfit for the ball,” you answer as calmly as you can, speaking around the lump in your throat. 

“Oh!” She lets out in mock surprise, “Is it now? I thought you said you were not going to be trying to win the attention of the prince.” 

You furrow your brow and remain standing straight with your shoulders squared back, “I am not. I have no intention of wooing the prince, stepmother.” 

“Then why have you chosen to wear such an attention seeking outfit? Surely you were planning on going behind my and my daughter’s back. I should have known you were going to do something like this.”

“Please, stepmother. You must believe me. I have no--” 

“I do not believe you, you little wench. You’ve always have looked for ways out of this house, to one up me and my daughters. I will stand for this no more.” 

You want so badly to lash out, to rip the outfit from her hands, go running from the room, and get dressed. But you can’t move. You can barely breathe. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, your stomach turning, and your body locking up. You can only watch as your stepmother glides over to the stove. Her eyes glide over the stove top before smirking. She dunks the outfit into the melted chocolate you were going to use to cover some of the treats. 

To make matters worse, part of the cloth flops over the edge of the pan and lands directly on the open flame that was on to melt the chocolate. Your stepmother lets out a triumphant laugh as the outfit catches fire, turning around and leaving the kitchen.

The sound of the door closing behind her causes you to leap into action finally. You rip the outfit out of the pot and toss it in the sink, dousing it with water, extinguishing the flame. The chocolate clings to the fabric, refusing to let go easily as you put your entire being into scrubbing the outfit. 

Sobs begin falling from your lips as you realize, even if you get all of the chocolate out of this outfit, it will never dry in time for the ball. Plus. you don’t have fabric to sew up the part where the flame ate part of it. Your outfit is ruined. Your plans are ruined. The night is ruined. 

You barely register your stepmother calling for your stepsisters, telling them it was time to go, and the door opening and closing behind them. The world seems to spin around you, sinking you to your knees as you sob loudly, clutching the soaking web fabric to your chest. 

The cool tile welcomes you, the warmth of the oven soothes you, and the wetness of the outfit grounds you. The sobs turn into soft hiccups then to silent sniffles as you stare in front of you. Mentally you begin to write your apology letter to Sir Charming about your abscess from the ball. How you were going to go, you really were, you just didn’t have anything suitable to wear. 

He’ll probably ask you why you didn’t plan better. He’ll probably be angry. He may not want to speak to you again. You’ll just have to deal with it and beg for forgiveness. And if he decides not to forgive you…. You’ll just have to live with it. 

A soft knock echoes from the front door. You’re so in your own head, you’re not sure it’s a real sound, but then it comes again, a little louder this time. You muse it may be one of your steps who forgot something and didn’t think to bring a key. 

In a zombie-like fashion, you let the fabric drop from your hands before standing up slowly. It almost feels as if you’re floating as you move to the front door. Your hand somehow finds the doorknob, unlocking it, before turning it and opening it up. 

You startle slightly at the sight in front of you. A frail looking older man stands before you. He has grey hair, a hunchback, and a shawl that comes up and covers the top of his head and shoulders. “Oh… hello. Can I help you?” You ask softly, looking out past him wondering where he came from. Your house wasn’t necessarily in the middle of nowhere, but you definitely had your privacy from neighbors. You lived on the edge of the kingdom, no one ever really comes out here. 

“Hello there, deary.” His voice is kind and his lips turn upwards slightly. “I am sorry to bother you at this time of night, but I was just on my way home and my stomach let out an awful grumble and I was just wondering if you could spare a bite to eat? I won’t take much, I promise, just something to get me home.”

You don’t know what made you trust this stranger, maybe it was just your deep need to help those around you, maybe you were still in shock from what your stepmother had done minutes… an hour? You’re not sure. But you give him a smile. “Oh yes, of course. Please come in sir. Lucky for you, I was just making something sweet. So you can snack on that while I make you dinner.” 

You move out of the way and let the man enter your house. 

“Oh, please deary, no need to make me a whole meal.” 

“Nonsense,” you answer, guiding him into the kitchen, “I want to make sure you’re well fed for your journey home.” You hand him some of the cookies from the counter. “Here, make yourself at home.”

The man takes the cookie from your hands gently before sitting himself down at the counter. “You are far too kind… I wasn’t even sure anyone would be home. I heard the royal family is throwing a ball, and everyone is invited.” 

You can’t help the laugh that falls from your lips as you begin making dinner for this kind man. “Yes, well, my stepmother believed me unworthy to attend… went as far as to destroy my outfit…” you take a moment to look down at the outfit, still soaking at your feet. You snap yourself out of the stupor, “Sorry. Not to dump.” 

The man hums as he takes a bite of the cookie. “I see…. Oh this is delicious. You should run a bakery.” He exclaims. 

A shy smile plays on your lips as you plate his food. “That’s the goal…One day. Thank you… Anyway, dinner is served!” You place the plate in front of him, your smile growing. 

The man instantly digs in and hums in delight at the taste. The two of you converse as he eats, he talks about his life and you give him more insight into yours. Telling him of how you got your love of baking and your hopes of owning a bakery, but not working for the baker in the village. 

Soon, he’s down to his last bite of dinner. He pops it in his mouth before leaning back into his chair. “Wow, that hit the spot. Thank you again deary, for dinner and the delightful conversation…” 

You give him a smile, “Of course, it’s my pleasure… I just realized I never got your name.” 

“You can call me Quackity…AKA” 

Suddenly golden light surrounds the man in front of you, forcing a gasp out of your lips. “What’s going on?” You exclaim as the light draws closer to the man, glowing brighter. 

Through squinted eyes, you watch the wrinkles fall from the man’s face. It’s as if an ink pot spills from the shawl the rests on his head, his hair turning black. The fabric morphs into a dark grey beanie that remains covering the top part of his hair. His spine straightens, his outfit morphing into a sharp tuxedo with golden wings protruding from his back. His piercing eyes, suddenly getting covered by black sunglasses. 

The golden motes of light fade from existence, the old man no longer in front of you, a young man now sitting before you. 

“Your fairy godmother…father…papi? Ah who knows.” 

You stare wide-eyed, mouth agape at the man that now sits in front of you. “What the fuck?” You whisper. “Who are you?”

The young man tilts his head and gives a playful grin. “I just told you, silly. I’m your fairy god-Papi. You can also call me Quackity. But I’ve watched over you, and I had to make sure you were still a good person. We don’t have time for the full backstory, we have a ball to get you too, dulces.” 

You stare at him, your mouth moving like a fish out of water. “What are you talking about? I can’t go to the ball, my outfit is ruined, I don’t have a way to get there. I can’t… Don’t you have to get home?” 

Quackity laughs causing you to pout to play on your lips. Quackity notices, “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to laugh, you’re just too sweet. I know you think we just met, but you have to trust me. You’ve already let me in your home, you may as well trust me to do this as well.” 

You puff up your cheeks with air as you toss your thoughts back and forth, debating his words. Maybe you’re asleep. Maybe you crashed and fell asleep on the kitchen floor and this is all just a dream. At this point, that would make the most sense. You pinch the skin on your thigh, flinching but looking around. When nothing around you changes, you’re forced to take this situation as reality. Incredibly weird, fucked up reality. 

You meet Quackity’s bright eyes again, his kind smile never fading. “Okay.” You speak softly, letting your shoulders relax. “I trust you.” 

His grin grows bigger and he claps his hands once in delight, holding them in front of his chest for a brief moment, looking you over excitedly. “I knew I chose you for a reason. Let’s get this done then, shall we?” 

Quackity claps twice and the golden light fills your vision again, this time though, they’re surrounding you. Your clothes shift and change, the fabric changes and gets tighter to your body. Your hair moves around on its own, which feels weird at first, but then you realize that it feels like someone is doing your hair and you think back to your mother and father doing your hair when you were little. You feel the flour and the sugar fall from your face and your fingertips as the light cleans you up. 

Your gaze moves down to your feet and your breath catches at the shoes you now adorn. They’re breathtaking, literally apparently. They’re made of glass, the majority of the shoe being see through, but a gorgeous pattern of color, as if spun sugar swirled throughout. They’re insanely comfortable too. You’d think that shoes made of glass would be uncomfortable, but they’re not. They’re perhaps the most comfortable shoes you’ve ever worn. 

Soon, the light fades and you turn to find Quackity holding a mirror. The outfit is beautiful and truly made for a ball. It’s actually your size and fits you well in all of the right places. Your hair is beautiful as well, pulled back to show your face, but is done up in an intricate way. Your face, as you felt, is clear of the evidence of your baking. 

“I look good,” you whisper, turning slightly, examining yourself from different angles. 

“I know, I did well, didn’t I?” Quackity boasts, the feathers of his wings ruffling at the slight praise. 

You look from the mirror to catch his gaze. “You did. But I still don’t have a way there, I don’t want to walk.” 

Quackity shakes their head. “Oh yee of little faith. Grab those boxes of treats and follow me.” 

You whip around and find all of the baked goods you were working on packed neatly in your boxes. The magic must have moved them while you were getting dolled up. You blinked away the happy tears and scooped up the boxes and scurried out the door after Quackity. 

You stand back and watch as Quackity waves his hands around, the golden magic illuminating the dark night. It swirls around a pumpkin in your garden you were planning on using for a pie when it got ripe, making it grow larger and larger, changing from a thick orange pumpkin skin to a brilliant white carriage with golden details. 

The sheep that wanders your small farm gets surrounded by the light and is transformed into a beautiful woman who bends at the waist in front of you. “My lady,” she speaks. You curtsy back at her, giggling. You can’t believe this is real. 

Two field mice get transformed into a carriage driver and their assistant. Your carrier pigeon you’ve been using gets enlarged into a giant pigeon which the driver and assistant immediately move to get the pigeon hooked up to the carriage. Quackity moves over to stand by you, grinning as the golden light fades away as everything comes to order. “Ta da!” He says, holding his hands out and wiggling his fingers towards to new carriage and humans there to take you to the ball.

You can’t stop yourself from turning to him and throwing your arms around him, pulling him closely to you. He lets out a soft “oof” but wraps his arms around you, squeezing you tightly. “Thank you so much… fairy god….papi.” 

Quackity barks out a laugh but squeezes you tighter. “Of course, dulces. Now, this magic doesn’t come without a downside.” He says, pulling away and looking you in the eye. “Nothing too bad, but the magic will fade at midnight. The carriage will go back to a pumpkin, the footman back to mice and your sheep lady to a sheep. Your outfit will fade. It will all end at midnight. So, go, have fun at the ball, eat, drink, make friends, do it all. But when that clock strikes midnight, run like hell little lady.” 

You give him a short nod. “I understand… thank you. Will I ever see you again?” 

Quackity smiles softly, his hand moving to cup your cheek. “I’ll never be far away from you, dulces.” 

You know that means probably not, buy you decide to ignore it as you give him another hug. 

He hugs you back before  pulling away again. “Enough sap, you have a ball to go to. Go on! Get!” He pushes you toward the open door of the carriage. You giggle, gather the boxes of baked goods you had set down, and move to the carriage. 

Puffy, the lady in waiting, climbs in the carriage after you, closing the door behind her, before hitting the top of the carriage, causing the driver to give a shout and the carriage rocks forward. 

You glance out the window toward the house and find Quackity watching the carriage leave, his hands pressed to his chest. You bring your hand up and give a small wave. Quackity raises his hand and waves after you, until you cannot see him any longer. 

Schlatt was going a little crazy. It was as if the entire kingdom had shown up. Everyone was here. Everyone but you. You had promised that you would come in the letter that you sent a week ago, but maybe you had changed your mind. He hopes you hadn’t though. Afterall, he swore to his father he would be betrothed by the end of this night. 

He had met countless single village people, all trying to bat their eyes hard enough to make him take a second glance, but none of them were you. He found himself slumping down in his throne, brushing off the glare his father threw over his shoulder. Pretending not to hear the, “This is what you wanted. At least act like you want to be here.” He hissed over. Schlatt just rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. 

It becomes apparent he has met everyone here tonight and still no sign of you. Until there’s a large commotion by the snack table. His gaze shoots over and his heart picks up at the sight. It’s you. You look so different from the other times he’s seen you, but it is you. He’s on his feet in an instant and rushing over. 

You arrive later than everyone else at the ball, but honestly you’re totally okay with that. Less attention to yourself. You give a small bow to your servants for the evening, giving your carrier pigeon a few scritches before ducking into the castle. You hope you’ll be able to find your Sir Charming quickly so you can stick to him for the entire night. You decide you’ll first hit up the snack table to set up your baked goods and sign for the other nobles to taste just like Sir Charming said to do. 

You find the table is already packed with baked goods from the bakery. You take it upon yourself to begin moving some of the treats over to make room for your treats. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” A familiar voice booms from behind you. 

You roll your eyes at the voice but turn around and face the baker, Mr. Lou Hamani. “I was invited to display my baked goods at this ball. So I’m simply making room.” You answer before turning back around and putting more desserts out. 

Lou moves to stand beside you at the table and begins to grab at your treats. “I think not you disrespectful child. I am being paid by the king’s advisor himself for these desserts. I will not have you screwing over my chance to impress the nobles that are here today at this ball. You will pack up and leave at once.” 

“I will do no such thing, I was invited to set up shop here by a castle staff member and I intend to do so.” You huff. Lou pays your words no mind and continues to gather up the things you’ve baked in his arms. “Hey, put those down. Give those back.” If he hears you he pretends like he doesn’t and cotiunes what he’s doing. It’s then you begin to try and grab your treats out of his hands. 

The baker snaps at you, “get your hands off of me.” 

“Give me my things back!” 

You’re so invested in what is going on in front of you that you don’t realize that the entire ballroom’s eyes are on you. 

In the middle of your squabble, someone loudly clears their throat. You then realize you’re in public and everyone can see you. You decide to still not care and face it with confidence. The baker looks over his shoulder and seems to pale at the sight. Your brow slightly furrows and you turn around. 

Deep pools of chestnut brown lock with yours and they’re just as fucking beautiful as the day you first met them. They fill you with a sense of calm, but at the same time nerves as butterflies fill your stomach. You think you will never tire of looking him in the eyes. 

You find your eyes drifting down and you feel your stomach lurch and your heart stop. You’re seeing his face uncovered for the first time. He’s so fucking handsome… 

So fucking handsome with those god fucking damn mutton chops. 

“Your highness,” you hear the baker greet shakily from behind you. 

Your thoughts are confirmed. The man you met that day in the market, the one you’ve been sending letters to, the one you met once more, the one you’ve been slowly developing feelings for. Is Prince fucking Schlatt himself. Of fucking course he never told you his name. Of fucking course he never showed his face. It’s been him this whole time. 

Oh fuck. 

You’ve shit talked about him to his fucking face. 

You’re fucked. 

Gods. You look beautiful. He didn’t know anyone could ever look this good. He’s so fucking happy you came. 

His eyes meet yours and he can tell you’re in shock. He was a bit surprised you figured it out, that your Sir Charming was actually the prince. The other part of him feels fuzzy that you can recognize him just from his eyes. He can only hope that you forgive him for lying to you. 

“Mr. Hamani,” He greets easily, his eyes not leaving yours. He’s trying to decipher what it is you’re thinking, but your shocked expression masks any else you may be thinking. “Would you kindly unhand my favorite baked goods from my favorite baker? You’ll have to forgive me sir, while I find your treats delicious, I find theirs simply irresistible. I invited them and told them to set up shop here. I apologize that no one informed you in advance.” 

The baker stutters but gives a quick bow. “Of course, your highness. No need to apologize to me. I was simply surprised at their appearance is all. They have always been rather disruptive and I wanted to ensure it wasn’t something of that sort happening again… I apologize, your highness.” 

Schlatt gives a simple wave of his hand. “Forgiven.” He speaks. 

The baker dumps the treats from his hands back on \to the table and scurries away. Schlatt strides over and snatches up a double chocolate chip cookie and takes a bite, moaning at the taste, before turning to face you. He gives a shy smile. 

“Hello.” 

“Hello,” he states softly as if nerves have invaded his entire stomach. As if he has a right to be nervous after the shit he let you get away with. 

“Hello,” You answer tensely. 

The two of you stand there, staring at each other for a moment. You haven’t even noticed that the entire ballroom is still at a standstill, staring. 

You’re the first to move. You charge forward at him, your finger rising in the air, pointing directly at him. “You. I can’t believe that you-” 

Prince Schlatt grabs your hand out of the air, bows, and brings the back of your hand up to his lips. The feeling of his soft lips on your hand sets the flesh there ablaze. You feel your face flush with searing heat along with the heat that floods your entire body. He mutters your name softly, lips still pressed to your hand, sending butterflies soaring in your stomach. 

“Prince Schlatt.” You utter, curtsying slightly. 

He stands back up to his full height and gives you a soft, lopsided grin. “May I have this dance?” 

All of the heated words you wanted to sling his way die on your tongue. You can’t help but wonder if this is all a prank. Like if you accept, he is going to laugh in your face and you’re going to be tossed in the dungeon. 

But then you meet his eyes. 

Those damn fucking eyes. 

They tell you so much, you’re surprised they didn’t tell you who you had been speaking to this entire time. 

They tell you to trust him. That he truly means what he is saying. That he wants nothing more than for you to say yes, because he wants to dance with you. Truly, deeply, wants to dance with you.

Hope. 

His eyes fill with hope. 

And how can you say no to hope. 

“You may.” 

Schlatt is probably the happiest he’s ever been when you accept his offer to dance. His grin widens significantly before he leads you to the middle of the ballroom. He bows to you and you curtsy. The band strikes up a beautiful waltz song and the two of you begin to dance. 

He notices that you’re working hard to follow his moves. It dawns on him that you are indeed a commoner and so you don’t have the dance training drilled into you as he has. He slows his pace down and smiles brightly as your shoulders sag in relief as you catch up with him. 

“Sorry,” you mumble for a third time as you step on his toes once more. 

“Please stop apologizing. I do not mind. Truly…” 

He stares at you beaming, trying to make you see the truth. You seem to only slightly believe him. He clears his throat and pauses for a moment. “Here, step on my feet. I’ll move us around the ballroom.” 

He smiles through you raising your eyebrows as if to ask if he was serious. He nods encouragingly. 

You realize that he’s not going to move again until you comply. So you do. You carefully step both of your feet onto his, praying the glass shoes are as comfortable on top of his feet as they are on yours. If they’re not, he makes no show of it. His smirk grows impossibly wide and begins to move around once more. 

The rest of the room fades away. He can see no others in the ballroom. His gaze is focused on you and you alone. He whispers jokes to you and feels his heart warm when you toss your head back in laughter. 

With you, he’s not the prince. 

He’s just Schlatt. 

He couldn’t be more thankful for you.

You couldn’t help but feel slightly embarrassed as Prince Schlatt dances you across the room. Your father always told you not paying attention to your mother’s dance lessons would come back to bite you. You never thought you’d see the day that would come to fruition. 

But he moved you around with such ease that it made you feel as if you were floating. It didn’t matter you didn’t know how to dance, he was there. He was helping you through. He was there for you. 

Your mind takes that thought and runs with it. 

You think back to you waiting everyday eagerly for his letters to arrive. The way you blossomed under his praise, both of you and your baking. Ever since the moment you met him, he always was there to catch you. You can’t think of a single moment in the past couple months where your mind wasn’t filled with the thoughts of him. 

He has always been there. 

The music ends and the two of you bow to each other. A round of applause startles the two of you out of your bubble. You look around and find several other couples had joined you on the dance floor, but most people had stayed pressed on the sidelines, watching the dances. Those are the ones that were now applauding. Your face flushes once more and you duck your head down as you step off of Prince Schaltt’s feet and away from him. 

If the prince notices you trying to put distance between the two of you, he doesn’t make it known. He instead grabs your hand once more, pressing another kiss to the back of your hand. 

“Come on, I must introduce you.” He states simply before moving towards the front of the room where his family sat. 

Your heart leaps to your throat, eyes widening as the royal family draws nearer and nearer. Somewhere in your brain had registered that if your Sir Charming was the Prince Schlatt, then his father would then be King Philza. But that didn’t actually click until now. 

Until the King, Queen, and other Prince were rising to meet you. 

“Father, Mother… brother,” Schlatt greets with a wide smile giving them a bow. “It is my honor to introduce you to my guest of honor for the evening.” You can barely believe it’s your name that then falls from his lips. 

Through the fog in your head, you thank yourself for remembering to give a deep bow to the royal family of the land. “Your majesties. Thank you for allowing me… everyone into your home. Everything about this ball is beautiful and perfect.” You give yourself a pat on the back for sliding in that compliment. 

“Everything except the pastries from the local baker it seems.” King Philza’s tone is so deep and regal it’s incredibly hard to register the joking tone. 

You swallow hard. “Forgive me, your highness. Mr. Hamani and I have never gotten along. I should not have brought our feud inside your home.” 

King Philza gives a dismissive wave. 

“It’s quite alright, dear.” Queen Kristen speaks up, her tone soft and gentle. “Sometimes men allow their egos to get in the way.” 

You can’t help but giggle along with her and nod along. 

“Dear!” King Philza lets out in a slight aghast tone. 

“Oh do not tell me I am wrong, my love. You should know this better than anyone.” 

The King does not have a response back for that. He instead turns back around and catches your eye. His gaze is so piercing you cannot help but look down at your feet. “We will not keep you any longer. Please, enjoy the ball.” 

“But I haven’t had a chance to talk with them yet!” Prince Tommy whines, stepping forward to stand with his father. 

The King rests a hand on his back and opens his mouth to speak but Prince Schaltt cuts him off. “Nor will you ever. We are off to enjoy the ball now. Farewell.” 

Before anyone in his family can get a word in, Prince Schlatt pulls you away. He beelines to the snack table, the people around it parting to allow him access to the table. Almost all of your baked goods are gone, stuffed in the hands of the attendees, all wanting to see just what made Prince Schlatt deny the local baker. 

Schlatt snaggs two of the double chocolate chip cookies and one of the brookies from the table and continues on his way, still pulling you away. Instead of stopping somewhere in the grand ballroom, he pulls you completely out of the castle and into the royal gardens. 

He stops in front of a bench in front of a fountain. He takes a seat and pats the bench next to him, silently inviting you to sit down. 

You do not sit down.

Instead, you take a couple paces back and forth in front of him, before you turn on your heel to face him. “I cannot fucking believe you!” You finally let out all of your nerves and frustrations into the sentence. 

Prince Schlatt startles slightly, coughing as a crumb of his cookies go down the wrong pipe. He clears his throat and goes to speak up but you don’t give him the chance. 

“You fucking asshole. You let me talk shit about your father… about you to your face the first time we met. Let me talk about your mutton chops. Never stopping to correct me or let me know who you were. You let me call you Sir Charming, never once stopping to tell me your name. How did I let this go this far? You let me write you letters everyday and you wrote me back! You told me so much about you and your life, but didn’t tell me this? This seems pretty fucking big, your highness. Oh my fucking gods. Oh my gods. I can’t fucking believe you. Holy fucking shit. You’re such a fucking asshole.” 

You can’t stop your hand from coming up and slapping his shoulder, pushing him back, not hard enough to push him off but hard enough to prove a point. 

He says nothing for a few moments, letting you breathe through it and calm down, before a grin splits his face. “Yeah. But it was hot. I liked being put in my place during our first meeting. It was interesting to hear your perspective. Someone talking to a complete stranger, not trying to kiss my ass and make me feel good about myself… though with the way you were talking about my chops, maybe you did just a bit of the latter anyway.” 

You let out a frustrated groan as the heat floods your cheeks. “Fuck you.” 

He reaches out and cups your cheek, bringing you down a bit to press a kiss to your forehead. “Yeah, yeah.” 

You take a few more deep breaths before allowing yourself to plop down beside him. You rest your head against his shoulder, forgetting your properness for a moment, taking another deep breath. “I can’t fucking believe you.” You mutter one final time. 

Schlatt turns and presses a kid to the top of your head before resting his head on the top of your head. He lets the silence sit for a while before he clears his throat and speaks again. “I am sorry, by the way.” 

You don’t speak, which he’s partially grateful for, it allows him to process his thoughts further. But on the other hand, he can’t see your face so he can’t tell if the silence is back. 

“I am sorry for not telling you. For lying about who I am… I… You didn’t know me and yet I wanted to know you…but I knew I wouldn’t get that chance if I was honest about who I was. You had a preconceived notion about who I am and I wanted a chance to show you that’s not all of who I am… I didn’t mean for the lie to go on this long. And I do feel back for lying. And I really am sorry.” 

Your silence kills him. His heart hammers in his chest. But then he feels you turn and nervously press a quick kiss to his cheek. “I forgive you.” The three words are the sweetest he’s ever fall from the lips of another. “I get it. I appreciate your apology and I forgive you, Prince Schlatt.” 

“Jonathon.” 

The name escapes his lips before he can stop it. 

“Hmm?” You hum, pull your head from his shoulder to look him in the eye, your brows furrowed. 

His eyes meet your and his heart pounds quickly in his chest. His stomach turning over and over again, churning with nerves. “Jonathon. My name is Jonathon. Call me Jonathon.” 

“Jonathon.” You echo. 

Schlatt takes back his previous thoughts. Several people have called him his given name before. But this? Now? When it falls from your lips? It is certainly the sweetest it has ever sounded. 

He gives a small nod with a shy smile. 

“I forgive you, Jonathon.” 

He could pass away right then and there. 

“I’m sorry I had to step on your feet so you could dance me around the ballroom.” 

“I forgive you… would you like me to teach you how to dance?”

“Would you?” 

“I would. I wouldn’t offer if I wouldn’t.” 

“I don’t want to dance in front of everyone.”

“Who said anything about going back to the ballroom. We can dance right here.” 

Schlatt leads you through several steps very slowly, picking up the pace only after he was sure you were comfortable with the steps. 

Soon enough you were dancing like a pro. So much so that you could focus on the conversation between the two of you rather than the steps you were taking. 

The two of you talked and danced privately in the gardens all night. You offered several times to go back to the ballroom, the man throwing the ball should at least be in there for longer than a couple moments. He ignored that and said he would rather spend time with the one he threw it for. You can’t help but blush at that. 

You’re having such a fun time that you almost forget about the magic’s stipulation. Almost. 

 Jonathon spins you around once more, and pulls you in close to his chest. When you look up at him, you see he’s suddenly a lot closer than you realized. “Oh!” you let out softly. “Sorry,” you apologize, going to move away. 

Jonathon’s hold on you tightens, keeping you in place. “No need to be sorry… I like having you close,” he whispers. Your eyes stray down to his lips as he speaks. They look so soft… so plush… so kissable. 

“I like being close to you,” the confession uttered before you can stop it. 

The corners of his lips up turn in a small smile. The two of you stand there, frozen in time for a moment before he begins to lean in. You move to meet him. Your lips are about to meet when the grandfather clock that sits across the garden echoes out a loud chime. 

It causes you to jump and turn to look at it. 

It’s midnight. 

“Oh fuck.” You let out. “Is that clock accurate?” You ask, pulling yourself from Jonathan’s arms. 

He frowns, brows furrowing slightly, following your gaze. “Oh that old thing? Uhhh, just about. It’s 15 minutes fast. Why?” 

You ignore his question and begin to move back toward the inside of the castle. “Fuck. I have to go. I’m sorry. I’ll see you later. I have to go.” 

“Wait,” He calls after you, calling your name. “Slow down. Come back. Please. You don’t have to leave.” 

“You don’t understand,” You call back, picking up your pace. “I do.” 

Without paying attention, you burst back into the ballroom. Several eyes falling on you, eyebrows raised. You pay no mind still and run, trying to push your way past everyone in the room, but people keep coming up to you to talk to you. 

A hand on your wrist spins you around and you lock eyes with those beautiful chestnuts you’ve grown so fond of. His eyes scream worry and panic, silently begging you to stop running. 

You yourself must look panicked and frantic in a different way. Like a wild animal that has been caged and is about to start lashing out. 

“Please.” You whisper. “Help me.” 

The grip on your wrist loosens. Schlatt may not understand, but he will always do everything he can in order to be the person you need at any given moment. 

“Everyone!” He calls out loudly, moving towards the refreshment table. “Please come over here and join me in a toast to celebrate this evening.” 

The crowd instantly leaves you, allowing you a path to exit the room and then the castle. You’ve never been happier to see the grass as you are now. 

“Stop! Wait! Halt in the name of the Prince!” You turn slightly and look over your shoulder and find a knight with fluffy brown hair and square glasses chasing after you. In the moment, you recognize him as Charlie, one of Schlatt’s best friends/knights. 

“Oh fuck!” You shout. The magic was starting to fade already, you can tell, because all of the sudden it was hard to run in your glass shoes. You bend down and kick them both into your awaiting hands. You turn for a sharp moment, throwing one of your shoes at the knight. He lets out a loud startled scream, stopping for just long enough for you to run to your carriage. 

“Go! Go! Go!” You shout at your footmen and lady. They waste no time before kicking up and bolting out and away from the palace. You look out the window and find Charlie has stopped chasing you, one hand on his hip, the other holding your glass shoe up to the light in an inspection. 

You slump back in your seat, letting out a deep sigh. 

“That was way too close.” 

After getting all of his guests to make a toast, Schlatt books it out of the ballroom. He races to the front lawn. His head whips back and forth, peering down the road to try and see any sign of a moving carriage. 

Footsteps sound from either side of him. His head turns and he meets the eyes of Ted who gives a pitying look and a shake of his head. Schlatt looks to the other side and meets Charlie’s eyes who also shakes his head. His eyes drift down to Charlie’s hands, and there was the shoe. Your beautiful glass shoe. 

Schlatt slowly reaches out and carefully takes the shoe from his friend’s grasp and clutches it to his chest. He turns his eyes back down the main road, staring off letting out a soft sigh. Hands clasp on both of his shoulders in a silent comfort. 

The magic faded when you were nearly home. You had to herd a sheep, two mice, and your carrier pigeon back home all while carrying your big ass pumpkin in slightly damp clothes barefoot as you had thrown your one shoe and taken off the other. Your shoe though did not fade with the magic, you weren’t sure if that made you happy or sad. By the time you made it back, you were exhausted. You quickly put everything back where it was supposed to go, taking a quick shower, tucking the shoe under your bed, and collapsing in your room. 

You’re not sure how long you were asleep for before the door to your room slammed open. It startles you awake from your deep sleep. You look up and in a silhouette from the hallway light, is your stepmother. Your heart leaps to your throat, trying to take deep breaths in through your nose trying to calm down. 

“Stepmother,” you greet groggily. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

“You insolent child.” She hisses. “I thought I made myself very clear. You were not to go to the ball. And what do you do, but steal the prince away for the whole evening?” 

“I do not know what you’re speaking about, stepmother.” 

She shoots a sharp glare at you. “You know exactly what I speak of… No matter. With the way you went running from the ball I’m sure the prince realized his mistake. Choosing you to dance and spend time with. With the way he let you go, I’m sure it’s that he realized you are not and will never be good enough for him. You? A low life orphan baker? Royalty? Never.” 

Her words sting like the venom they are. But you can’t help but realize she’s right. No matter what you do, you’ll always be an orphan that so happens to be good at baking. You would be an awful royal. 

Maybe that’s why he chose to help you escape rather than continue to chase after you. 

Maybe he realized it too. 

You will the tears to not fall as you stick your chin out a little further. “I do not know what you’re speaking about, stepmother. Now if you don’t mind I’d like to get some more sleep.” 

She is a touch surprised at your instance, certain that her words would break you. She gives you another glare, but grabs the doorknob and slams the door to your bedroom. 

You flop back on your bed and stare up at the ceiling for a long moment. You don’t realize you’re crying until the tears pool in your ear canal. You bring your hands up and wipe them away, rolling onto your side and clutching at one of your pillows. 

You had to end it… whatever it was. 

The clock on his wall warns him it’s 3 am, but Schlatt ignores it in favor of pacing back and forth in front of a table where the shoe was perched. Every so often he paused to look over the shoe before pacing again. 

“Why did you run?” He asks the shoe, staring at it as if it will give a response. “Where did you go… why did you throw this shoe at Charlie’s head?” A small smile breaks on his face as he pictures the scene Charlie described to him three hours ago. “I would have given anything to see it… to be there myself… to stop you myself.” 

He stands still for a moment longer before pacing again. 

“Maybe… maybe you found it all to be too much…” He speaks, slowing down his steps. “It all caught up to you… didn’t it. It all sank in. You realized truly who I was and you had to get out… You… you don’t want me.” 

He stops again, plopping down on the edge of his bed. “I suppose I can’t fault you… But I deeply wish you hadn’t run.” He flops backwards and stares up at the ceiling. 

It was going to end… whatever it was. 

Schlatt didn’t realize that he had fallen asleep until he wakes up. He spends a good amount of time staring up at the ceiling. Every knock on the door gets a “go away” as he lays in bed wallowing in his own self pity. The knocks stop for a couple hours. But then they’re back again. 

Schlatt startles out of his thought spiral and this knock on the door, this one louder than all the others. He groans at the sound, rolling over on his side and tugging a pillow over his head, blocking out most of the noise. “Go away,” He calls out, tucking himself into his bed further. 

The silence makes him believe whoever was outside listened to him. That is until the door opens and shuts behind him. He groans from the back of his throat, rolling himself over and sitting up. “I said, go away-- father-” He interrupts himself as his eyes meet his father’s green ones. 

Philza raises an eyebrow and the corners of his lips turn up slightly at his son’s behavior. “Good day to you too, Jonathan.” 

“Good day, dad.” Schlatt mumbles, sitting himself up properly. Schlatt moves his feet up slightly to make room for Philza as he moves and sits down on the end of Schlatt’s bed. 

Philza’s hand smooths over the blankets as he gives a glance around the room. His eyes catch on the shoe, still propped up on the table. “They gave you their shoe?” He asks, amusement lacing his tone. 

Schlatt huffs a laugh. “More like, threw it at Charlie’s head.” 

Philza doesn’t hold back and lets the laugh escape his lips. “Oh I knew I liked them. You picked well son. An excellent love match.” 

Schlatt sighs and turns to lay on his side, back facing his dad. “Apparently not. She ran away. I assume because she couldn’t handle me… who I really am. I don’t blame her after all the time I spent lying to her.” 

Phil furrows his brow and questions what Schlatt means by that. With nothing left to hide, Schlatt divulges the entire relationship. How they met and met again (which Phil was not happy about but decided now was not the time to bring it up) and how they sent letters to each other nearly everyday and how he knew they didn’t know his name but never told them his name or who he really is. How he had thrown the ball hoping they’d come and they did and how it has all been for them but it’s all been for nother. 

Phil nods along, listening carefully. He lets Schlatt take deep breaths after his rant. “I knew something was up.” Schlatt meets his eyes, curious but does not speak. “You’ve been so much happier in these past few weeks than I can remember… And you were so insistent on a love match. Deep down I knew… So my only question is why the hell are you moping around this room when you should be out there looking for them?”

“Didn’t you hear me, dad? They don’t want me. They ran away.” 

“Did they tell you they didn’t want you? Look you in the eyes and say ‘Prince Schlatt I do not want you?’”

“No but--”

“No buts, son. I haven’t seen you this happy in years. I know that you’re in love with them, whether you realize it or not. I know because you look at them the same way I look at your mother. And they wouldn’t have spent the whole night with you if they didn’t love you too. They wouldn’t have given you a clue telling you to come get them if they didn’t.” Philza motions to the shoe. “So again, I ask you. Why the hell are you moping around this room when you should be out there looking for them?”

The words resonate with Schlatt, filling him with hope, that maybe, just maybe you love him like he loves you… damn. Yeah. He loves you. 

“You’re right… I have to go dad, I have to…” Schlatt shoots up out of bed and digs through his closet and throws on a random outfit. “I have to get Ted and Charlie and a whole group and we have to go looking. Door to door. I have to find them. I am going to find them.” He runs a hand through his hair before whipping around to face his father with a grin. He rushes forward and presses a kiss on his father’s cheek. “Thanks, dad.” 

You sat staring at the blank piece of paper in front of you. What to say to the man that makes you feel everything. You twirl your pen in between your fingers a couple times. Letting out a sigh, you lean back for a moment, looking out the window. Your attention gets caught by the pigeon beside you who lets out a coo. You sigh again, reaching out and giving the bird scritches. “Hey there,” you murmur. The bird leans into your fingers, rubbing against you more. “Yeah… I know this letter won’t write itself.” The bird cocks its head and coos. “Yeah, just one more letter… a goodbye. I know you must be excited, you won’t have to carry my messages anymore.” Another coo. “Well, of course I’ll let you fly around outside. I’m not a monster.” It blinks at you. “Well I have to tell him something! I can’t just stop speaking to him. I need him to know… It’s quite literally not him. It’s me. I’ll never deserve him… no matter how much I care… for him.” The bird lets out a sharp and short coo. “Fucking hell. You’re right. I love him. Gods damn it I love him so much. Oh this is going to be a nightmare.” 

Schlatt sighs in frustration as he and his knights trudge to the castle. They’ve knocked on every single door in the kingdom and not a single one did you stand behind it. The sun was setting the knights stomachs were grumbling so Schlatt decided to call it a day and head back to the castle, determined to start again tomorrow. 

He picks at his dinner, tossing and turning it over with his fork, giving half hearted replies to questions that he’s really not paying attention to. He can’t help but replay every interaction he’s had with you over again, followed closely by several notable interactions he had throughout the day. One where the woman had caked her face in flour hoping to prove herself to be the baker. Another that when she answered the door said “I am not interested!” with a smug smile, as if she really did something, and then slammed the door in his face. As if he would be interested in her? He very clearly was looking for someone. 

His head is heavy with everyone he’s seen and spoken to today, he’s just ready to turn in for the night. 

And then he hears it. 

That beautiful coo he’s grown accustomed to listening for every day. The tell tale sign that you have sent him a letter. It’s Bob. Your carrier pigeon. 

And he has a letter attached to his leg. 

Schlatts posture instantly straightens and he holds out his finger, letting out a soft coo of his own. Everyone turned in confusion and watched Schlatt. Ted was about to speak before Bob landed on his fingers and stuck out his leg. Schlatt carefully took the rolled paper and fed the pigeon a couple nuts

Schlatt carefully unrolled the letter and began to read. 

My dearest, Prince Charming, 

I guess now that I know who you truly are it is only correct that I change the sir in your title to Prince. My prince… I had the most magical time last evening with you. Dancing around in your private garden is certainly something I will never forget and will always be grateful for. It was so incredibly sweet of you to give me your undivided attention. 

It unfortunately has come to my own attention that I am not good for you. I do not deserve you my sweet prince. I could never be someone that you deserve. I am a simple orphan that happens to be good at baking. No matter how hard I would try, you would always be way out of my league. 

I hope you find the love match that you seek. I hope you find someone good and kind, with a loving heart that will deserve you and be someone worthy of your love and care. Someone worthy of you throwing an entire ball for them. I don’t know how I ever thought I could be that person. I am so sorry…

I love you, Jonathon. 

But you deserve so much more than me. 

Yours, 

Your name is signed at the bottom of the letter as it always is. He reads the second to last line, once, twice, a thousand times, until he’s convinced himself that it’s real. That you really wrote that you love him. He didn’t care about the other stuff that you wrote. Well he kind of did. But he knew it was bullshit. If anything it’s him who doesn’t deserve you. 

If only he could find you to tell you this….

And then it hits him. 

He springs up from the table and rushes out, startling everyone in the dining room with him. The pigeon flaps its wings and lands on his shoulder, used to being carted around. Schlatt runs to his room where he grabs a pen and paper of his own. He scribbles “I love you,” before snatching the shoe off the table and rushing outside. Ted and Charlie rush out behind him, confused at the rush. 

“Schlatt, what are we doing?” They ask. 

Schlatt elects to ignore them as he hands Bob the messily rolled piece of paper. “Here, Bob. Show me the way to them.” Bob takes the paper, coos softly, and takes off. 

Schlatt instantly begins to race after the bird, Ted and Charlie following close behind. How relieved he was to finally find a way to find you. Bob would certainly lead him to you. He could only hope he could keep up with the bird. 

Schlatt was feeling winded by the time he reached the small house on the edge that borders the kingdom and the forest. He hadn’t thought to make his way all the way out here, thinking you lived closer to the village with the way you walked to the market. Obviously he had been wrong. 

Either way, he could only pray that Bob had led him to the right place. 

He couldn’t tell if the tightness in his chest and the shortness of breath was just from him running all this way or if it was his nerves. He decided to call it ‘a bit of column a and a little of column b’ and call it a night. 

The three approached the door, each taking deep breaths calming themselves from the journey taken to get here. Schlatt looks over his shoulder apprehensively at Ted and Charlie. He had knocked on over a hundred doors today, it didn’t make sense that this was the one he got nervous on. 

His best friends each gave him an easy smile and a kind and encouraging nod, eager for the prince to knock. Schlatt turned back to the door, letting out a breath, shaking his arms out, before reaching up and giving a sturdy knock. 

It’s silent on the other side of the door for a long moment. Schlatt’s heart pounds so hard in his chest he has to swallow hard to get it back down to his chest. The door know turns quickly and the door is pulled open and an older woman stands before him. He tries to not let his disappointment show, especially as surprise and utter delight paints her face. 

The woman drops to a quick curtsy. “Your highness,” she greets. Her voice sounds like nails on a chalkboard and it takes everything Schlatt has to not visibly recoil. “To what do we owe the pleasure?” 

A small bout of hope flutters down his spine causing Schlatt to stand straighter at the word “we.” “I am not sure if you have heard, but have been searching the entire kingdom for the one I danced with last night. Do you have any children, my lady?” 

The woman brightens up even more and squares her shoulders back. “As a matter of fact I do. I have two.” The woman turns and cups her mouth. “GIRLS,” She hollers, causing the boys to shutter at the loud call. 

Footsteps race across the wooden floor and two younger women appear. Schlatt feels a huge wave of disappointment was over his being as he looks at their faces and realizes they’re not you. He doesn’t hide his distaste as the girls push each other, trying to stand straighter and puff out their chest larger than the other.

“Neither of these young women are who I am looking forward… Does anyone else live here? A servant or a stable hand? Perhaps a cook?” Schlatt asks, taking a single step forward, looking around the room hoping for some kind of sign of you. 

The woman’s face sours at the question before her mask gets put back in it’s place. “No one else, your highness. Although I can assure you, my daughters are perfectly suitable--” 

“What’s that?” Schlatt interrupts as a noise sounds from one of the adjacent rooms. It sounded like metal being set down on a counter. “I thought you said no one else lived here.” 

The woman swallows harshly and moves to stand in front of the door. “That… that is just the cook your highness, they do not live here… or at least soon will not,” she mutters the latter part with venom before turning back to Schlatt, a perfect smile posing on her lips. “No one to concern yourself with, truly.” 

Any sense of trust for the woman is washed away when the scent hits his nose. He would be able to pick that scent out of a million different ones. It’s one of the best things he’s ever smelled. 

He would be able to recognize the scent of your double chocolate chip cookies. 

And he knows you’re in there. 

“By order of the king, I demand you step aside.” He barely recognizes his voice as it escapes his lips. It’s deep and authoritative… damn as each day passes he sounds more and more like his father… he’ll have to correct that. 

The woman opens his lips to protest. 

Deciding he wants to hear no more of his voice, he gently pushes the woman’s shoulder out of the way. His hand finds the door knob and he throws open the door without care. He breath is ripped from his lungs as he sees the person who stands in the kitchen… in front of those unmistakable chocolate chocolate chip cookies.

“It’s you.” 

The door slamming open scares the shit out of you. 

The entire day you had been lost in your own head. You finished the letter and gave it to your pigeon to take to Schlatt. As soon as it had left your sight, you made your way to the kitchen in a daze where you let yourself begin baking whatever your heart was feeling in the moment. 

It was only when you were beginning to clean up the batter dishes did you realize what you had made… and who you had made it for. You let yourself drift back into your head as you watched the cookies bake  through the oven window. You knew you would probably never see him again. Especially not after this letter. 

You took them out of the oven and let the pan clatter to the counter without much of a care. The soft cooing of your pigeon drew your attention away. You turned to greet it when you caught sight of the paper on it’s leg. Confusion fills you as you carefully take the paper. 

I love you.

It can’t be. 

The door bursts open, causing you to jump and whip around. Those damn fucking beautiful eyes. They always seem to follow you. To haunt you. Especially in your own house, those fucking chesnut brown eyes that say everything that you want to hear all without saying a word.

“It’s you.” 

Oh fuck he’s actually here. 

What the fuck? 

What is he doing here???

“What are you doing here?” 

His eyes don’t leave yours as he surges forward. One of his arms wraps around your waist, the other moving behind your neck, hand moving up to cradle the back of your head. “What are you doing here? Why did you run away?” 

You stare at him in disbelief, mouth opening and closing a few times. “Did you not get my letter? I’m no good for you, Jon--Prince Schlatt, I do not deserve you, your highness. You deserve someone much better than me. Surely you--” 

“Don’t you understand,” he whispers, cutting you off. “There is no one better.” 

“But your highness--” 

“Don’t call me that.” 

“What?”

“You know what. Don’t call me that. That’s not my name. Not to you.” 

You let out a sigh and rub your flour coated hands on your apron. “Jonathon.” 

The smile that spreads across his face nearly makes you melt into a puddle. “There it is.” He murmurs, drawing his face closer to yours. “That’s my name.”

“Jonathon,” You repeat, trying to pull your blushing face away from his to no avail. You clear your throat and continue. “As per my letter, you deserve so much better than me. I am sure you can find someone-” 

“Did you mean it?”

You look at him partly confused, partly annoyed at him continuing to interrupt you. “Mean what?” 

“Did you mean it when you signed that you love me?” 

Your heart stops in your chest. You forgot you said that part. You don’t think you would have said it had you known it would have caused him to come bursting into your kitchen. You look at him in disbelief, is he not hearing your words? He surely read the letter. Why is he being so insistent on this? 

You could never lie to him though. 

You clear your throat and move your shoulders back. You meet his eyes head on. “Yes. I did. But-” 

“I love you too.” 

The world stops again. “What?” 

“As per my letter,” he says, a shit eating grin playing on his lips. The shock flowing through your body stops you from rolling your eyes. “I love you.” 

You remember the small piece of paper that was surely on the floor now that you took from the pigeon just moments ago. Obviously that’s who the paper was from. You swallow hard. “Sure you can’t-” 

“But surely I can. I think I’ve been in love with you ever since you called me a big petty man-baby who looked hotter now than I did before.” 

“I… I…’”

“I love you,” He utters, moving impossibly closer to your face. “I always have. You are all I want. You deserve so much better than me… But I’m hoping you’ll lower your standards and settle for me anyway.” 

His eyes shine so brightly. Those damn, fucking, beautiful eyes. They stare at you, hopeful, waiting with bated breath for your answer. They stare so intensely at you… You never want them to look away. 

It’s you that closes the distance and presses your lips to his. He instantly responds, tugging you closer to his chest and kissing you back. The kiss makes your body sing in delight. The spark starts at the base of your spine where his hand connects to your body and shoots out, encasing you completely. From the tippity top of your head to the bippity bottom of your toes. 

He consumes you. Completely. Totally. Entirely. 

You pull away breathless from the kiss, meeting his eyes. “I love you, Jonathon. I want to be yours. Please. I want to be yours, if you’ll have me?” 

Jonathon lets out a breathless laugh and shakes his head once. “Oh sweets, you’ve always been mine. I’ve always been yours. From the moment I met you. I’ve been hooked, sweets. You’re mine, and I’m never letting you go.” 

He leans forward again and presses his lips to yours. You eagerly respond, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer. 

After you break apart again, Schlatt tells you to pack your things. You don’t have much here anyway so it doesn’t take you long. Your step family could only watch with crossed arms as you moved about, taking your things. You would miss the house you grew up in, but you were more than excited to begin your new journey. 

Schlatt made Ted and Charlie help carry your things. Ted cursed at Schlatt for not thinking to grab a carriage or at least a horse in the pursuit of you. That spun a whole argument between the two, leaving you to converse with Charlie. 

You gave the man a shy smile. “Sorry for throwing my shoe at you… I panicked about someone following me. 

Charlie gives a chuckle and a smile. “It’s no worries. I’m just glad you made it home safely.” 

“Yeah me too! The magic gave out and I was left carrying a huge ass pumpkin home… My back hurt like hell this morning.”

Charlie tilts his head and gives you a curious look. “Not what I meant… but I do want to hear more about this magic.”

“What did you mean then?”

Charlie doesn’t answer, his head simply moves to where Schlatt and Ted were now in a physical altercation, Schlatt attempting to put Ted in a chokehold. 

A fuzzy feeling floods your chest.

He is your home… isn’t he?

Small Epilogue 

The two of you marry quickly. The royal family welcome you with open arms. They help teach you the ways of the royals but never make you feel less than for being a commoner before the marriage. You never stop baking, you think Schlatt would throw a huge fit if you ever did. He constantly blamed you for his “twink death.” And although you’re not entire sure what that means, you’re sure that happened way before he met you. 

You two love each other openly and loudly. It brings smiles to everyone’s faces to see the prince this lovey dovey with someone. There will always be those that disapprove, but Schlatt is there to hold your hand and tell them to fuck off. 

He reminds you he loves you every single minute of every single day… you think maybe he lays it on a little thick in particular when he wants you to bake something in particular. You never mind though. It’s your baked goods that brought you together in the first place. 

Who are you to deny your love the thing that the two of you bonded over first? 

Especially when he loves you with every fiber of his being… 

…and maybe even more so when you make him chocolate chocolate chip cookies…

And they lived happily ever after.  The End

As per usual, I am shit at writing endings. Thank you for reading my 16.3k word self indulgent fic <3

Leave a like, comment, or reblog if you enjoyeddddd

okay byeeeeeeee back to my several year hiatusssss

im still on tumblr even if i don't post my writing so you can always message meeeeeeee <3

byeeeeeeeeee <3

[spookieloverslittlemind]

Their favourite movie…

includes: Michael Myers, Pinhead, Brahms Heelshire, Art the Clown, Sun and Moon (fnaf), Marta (Outlast 2)

spoilers: mentions of Saw and LOTR endings but tried to keep it vague just in case

Michael

I wouldn’t say he’s “happy” to watch anything, because Michael doesn’t really express “happiness” in any context, but he is content to sit completely still for hours on end, watching whatever you choose. He doesn’t form opinions on films so doesn’t have a favourite, but when you watch a gory horror film together, the SECOND the end credits are rolling he is up and grabbing his knife, heading for the door; Mike loves some inspo x

Pinhead

Fascinated by human media, having long forgotten that aspect of humanity. Pinhead enjoys films that he finds mentally stimulating, thrillers and mysteries mostly (gory films have him scoffing because he could easily make a far more gory scene in the blink of an eye). That said, Pinhead doesn’t like rewatching films because if they have a mystery and he’s solved it, he has no interest in seeing it again because “It is done; an experience that cannot be repeated”. His favourite film is Saw because he was completely blindsided by the plot twist at the end - obviously, a body on the floor of the entire film is nothing more than furniture to Pinhead, so when bro GOT UP?? Pinhead was losing it. Had to pause the film to pace for a few minutes. Couldn’t comprehend how he didn’t see it coming.

Brahms

Every Barbie movie from the early 2000’s, classic animated Disney princess films, and Peter Pan; Brahms thinks the princesses are very pretty (often comparing them to you regardless of your gender because he romanticises every fibre of your being) and believes himself to be the boy who never quite grew up, ironically. Doesn’t mind gory films, but doesn’t like complicated ones because he gets very frustrated; prefers to cuddle up with you and watch something wholesome. Will get pouty and is not above begging to start a movie over the second it’s finished.

Art

He’s pretty casual about the films he likes, he prefers classics that have decent remakes and his favourite is Carrie - a revenge plot with magical powers that cause a gory rampage? Count Art in. What he is passionate about, though, is the film he hates more than any other that fits the same criteria of a classic with a decent remake: It. And it’s literally because Art thinks he himself is the best scary clown. Sometimes you put it on (either the classic or new, the reaction is the same) just to piss him off and Art will come storming in, signing angry gibberish with flailing hands until he’s sulking on the couch beside you because he will insist on watching the entire thing again so that he can complain throughout.

Sun and Moon

Sun likes exciting films with happy endings, a very big fan of action movies. Contrary to this, his favourite movie isn’t just one, but the full Lord Of The Rings trilogy - Sun loved reading the books in between watching the films to digest every scrap of lore, but after watching the end of Return Of The King? Couldn’t bring himself to read the last book, because it was too sad. Sun is adamant he will never rewatch the trilogy because it upset him but objectively, that’s his favourite. He’s overjoyed to watch anything with you, because he loves spending time with you, but you have to tell him in advance it has a happy ending or he wont watch it, and if you lie? Moon pending.

Moon prefers quieter, calmer and darker films, with a particular love for gothic horrors based on the supernatural rather than slashers/gorefests. His favourite is An American Werewolf In London, the negative aspects of the transformation being very relatable to Moon.

Marta

Say hello to the biggest film critic of all time. Marta will insist that watching movies is a waste of good time that could be spent praising God or eradicating heretics, so will turn her nose up at almost every suggestion you make, but when you show her John Wick? Oh, Marta’s sense of justice is PREENING. She’s all about that. By the end, her internal monologue is begging God not to let her joy show on her face. As long as you tell her a film is like John Wick, she’ll give it a chance, but John Wick remains her favourite.

[ashleyfilm]

Seeing Clearly - Chapter 5. Movie Night

Please leave comments, I'd love to know your thoughts. And if you feel inclined to reblog, that would be so nice.

Chapter Warnings: cursing - Minors - DNI

Characters: Jackson!Joel Miller x F!Reader Plus Size. F!OC was recommended to me since there's a lot of description of her but I'm writing her as You (Reader) so hopefully you can still imagine yourself. Black hair, glasses, tattoos, big body, wears dark clothes, won't stop talking. Joel is tv show Jackson Joel.

Story Summary: Joel just saved your life, begrudgingly. He doesn't know exactly why but he brings you back to Jackson and you ingratiate yourself into his very small circle and his life. This takes place after season 1 of TLOU and season 2 doesn't exist in my brain because no.

Chapter Summary: You start your job at the library, meet a new resident of Jackson and Joel takes you to the movies. 1.8K

Thank you to @saradika-graphics for the book line divider. :)

Chapter 1 Here Chapter 2 Here Chapter 3 Here Chapter 4 Here

Chapter 5. Movie Night

After stopping by the clothing swap, Joel walks you to the library in your “new” old black t-shirt, with the faded logo of Guns n’ Roses, one of your favorite bands from childhood, you can still remember most of the words to the entire Use Your Illusion II album. Your eyes lit up when you found it and it actually fits you, even a tiny bit loose, your favorite. Joel couldn’t help the smile that formed on his plush lips seeing you full of glee, like a child that never went through any of this shit. At the library, you meet an older gentleman named Doc, long grey hair, warm smile and a sparkle in his eyes. He’s hoping to retire this year and you’re just in time to learn the ropes and take over. He walks you through the stacks and what he’s been able to do with the last three years he’s spent there. Organizing, cataloguing, working out distribution to the townsfolk. He even encourages you to suggest your own ideas on how to facilitate the place. You take your time walking around and looking at the books, all in various stages of use, but mostly well held up. Sometimes there are even multiple copies of something where the beginning is in one and the end in the other.

It's magical, being surrounded by all these stories, all these means of escape. And you haven’t even gotten to the VHS tape section with the movies. You grew up going to the video store every Friday with your parents, picking out something for them and something for you. Sitting in your room and watching the stories unfold before your eyes. You even worked in a video store before the outbreak, studied filmmaking in school. This place is already healing you. You can feel it. “Ash, got a visitor here, needs help finding something,” Doc says to break you from your reverie. You walk to the front desk and find a young man, probably in his early 30s, blonde hair, average height, good looking, but kind of like the asshole in your high school that’s on the soccer team and makes fun of you in front of his friends. “Ash, is it? I heard we had a newbie in town. I’m Ryan, nice to meet you,” he says as he takes your hand and gives it a squeeze. You still at the touch, people don’t really touch like this anymore and you haven’t been touched since you got here except for Joel and that was …different.

“Hi, uh, what can I help you with?” You say curtly. “Well, I’m looking for something to read, maybe something sci-fi, think you can help me out,” he says with a smirk. This guy isn’t here to read, he’s here to get the info on the new girl, ugh fuck off. “Um, sure, follow me.” Even though you’re new, you’ve quickly made a map in your head of the library space and the way Doc has taken to organizing and grouping things. You head straight to fiction section, which is currently just by author last name, you’ll change that. Wanting to get this over quickly, you look for H.G. Wells, and find The Invisible Man and hand it to the guy. So, Brad or whatever the fuck his name is will get away from you. “A Grotesque Romance,” he says reading the subtitle on the cover. “Interesting choice,” again with the smirk. “Yup, hope you enjoy it,” you say not really looking at him anymore. “I’m sure I will,” he says looking your body up and down. “See ya around, Ash.” You smile quickly and turn to walk away. Well, that’s the first person you’ve met that you immediately dislike, you guess it was bound to happen in a town with this many fucking people. A very obvious downside.

At the end of your shift, you say goodbye to Doc and start on your walk to the dining hall that will be turned into a movie theatre for the evening for a viewing of Jurassic Park. Your tote bag, courtesy of your new boss, filled with three books. Carrie by Stephen King for you, a graphic novel called, Somewhere in the Stars for Ellie, and No Country for Old Men by Cormac McCarthy for Joel. You wonder if he’ll like your old man joke or not. And like you’ve manifested him; he’s standing outside the library leaning against a lamppost, waiting for you. He’s stunning, standing with his arms crossed against his chest, in a green flannel with red lines and the sleeves rolled up to reveal his thick forearms and his hair wet and slicked back. And he’s there for you. He looks up and notices you walking towards him, you bite your lip to try and hide your smile. “Well, how’d it go?” He asks with his mouth in a line but his eyes, they’re different, warmer. “Good,” you answer, “Doc’s really lovely and it’s amazing how many books you all have.” He watches you speak, and you think he might see something new, and you feel it too, invigorated. You begin to walk in step with one another to the movie night.

“I got Ellie something,” you say as you dig into your bag and retrieve the graphic novel, handing it to Joel. He smiles warmly, probably thinking of Ellie and says, “She’ll love this.” After he hands it back you put it away and reach for the book you got for him, “And this …is for you.” Your hold your breath hoping he likes your choice. “Old Men, that a crack on me, sweetheart?” He says with a chuckle. Sweetheart, he just called you sweetheart. He continues, “Thank you, that’s real kind. Always wanted to read this one, never had the chance, always workin’ too much before everything happened.” “Good, well now you can.” He hands it back and your fingers brush just slightly and like this morning you feel a bolt of electricity run through you. You look away and hope he can’t see the blush on your cheeks.

When you walk into the theatre together, quite a few people look your way with curiosity. You don’t know if it’s because you’re new in town or because you’re with the big, bad Joel Miller. But soon, you don’t care because you smell the popcorn and hear people laughing and see the big projector screen. And you almost sob right then and there. Joel’s watching you in wonder. He lightly touches your shoulder, leaning in close he whispers, “Go pick out a seat wherever you want, I’ll get us some snacks.” A shiver runs down your spine and he’s gone. You find what you deem the perfect seat, close to the middle and along the center aisle. You see Ellie who gives you a wave and wanders after a pretty, dark-haired girl around her age. She looks so happy, and it makes your heart clench in your chest. You start to worry how much you’ve gotten comfortable here, it’s a lot so soon. And you worry that it could all be taken away, like everyone and everything in your life already has.

Before you can spiral too far into your mind, Joel sits next to you. “You couldn’t pick a place a little less surrounded by people?” he says with a grunt. “Hey, you said anywhere I want,” you pout at him. “That I did, I guess I shouldn’t leave it up to you next time,” he says with another hint of a laugh. Did he say next time? Did you really hear that? The movie starts to play, and you and Joel share popcorn, he holds it for you and offers it over to you every couple of minutes. You hear the music by John Williams, and it takes you back. When you were a little girl and your parents would sit you between them and watch you as your eyes lit up taking it all in, so enthralled. Popcorn now long forgotten, it comes to one of the parts you’ve never forgotten, when the girl, is about to fall through the ceiling and the velociraptors are underneath her dangling body and they snap at her legs. You jump out of your skin and grab onto Joel’s hand. After the jump scare you start to laugh, still holding onto him, then you look over at him and he’s already looking at you, a soft smile on his face, until both your smiles fade replaced with a longing gaze until he drops your hand and turns back to the movie. You worry you’ve gone too far, asked for too much, too soon. You clasp your hands back in your lap and try to enjoy the rest of the movie in silence.

As the T-Rex screams and the banner falls, the room is filled with applause. Everyone loved this movie; it didn’t matter who you were. The lights come on and everyone begins to make their way out into the night air of Jackson. Joel says he’s going to find Ellie and for you to “stay put.” Eyeroll. Unfortunately, that’s when Brad or whoever the fuck from earlier decides to come and say hello. “Hi there, Ash. How’d you like the movie?” he says while again looking you up and down. “It’s great, one of my favorites but I guess you weren’t born when it came out, huh?” You don’t even know if it’s true you just want to infantilize him, so he’ll go away. Instead, he laughs and touches your arm, “You may be right about that one.” Suddenly, Joel is back at your side with Ellie, “Time to go.” He says to you gruffly. Ellie is looking between you, Joel and what’s his name wide-eyed like she’s waiting for fireworks or a fight to break out. “Oh, hey Joel, I didn’t know you knew our girl, Ash here,” he says with a smirk, looking only at you. “She’s staying with us, Ryan.” Joel says, fist clenched at his side. Ryan, oh that’s his name. “Okay, well maybe you can save me a seat next time, Ash,” Ryan says with a tip of his hat gesture, the dumbass isn’t even wearing a hat. Idiot. “Bye,” you say as you turn to walk after Ellie and Joel. Ellie hangs back with you as Joel darts off ahead of you. With a grin Ellie says, “What was all that about, huh?” You look at her with a disgusted look on your face, “I honestly have no idea.” Over the next several days, you avoid Brad/Ryan like the plague. Haha, plague. And sadly Joel barely speaks to you, but he does leave out your wolf mug by the coffee machine every morning.

[tomtenadia]

Rowaelin Month - day 7

Hi all, a bit late with this but inspiration did not until an hour ago.

It's a very short fic with a lot of fluff. Hopefully you will love it For some reason is very mostly in Rowan's POV.

@rowaelinscourt

THE LUCKY ONE

The room was chaos. Dresses and shoes lay scattered on the bed and floor as if a tornado has swept through the room. That natural disaster was called Aelin and Rowan stared at his wife planted in front of her dresser with a disgruntled expression.

“Fireheart, not to put you any pressure on you, but our taxi will be here in half an hour.”

Rowan was an architect and his firm had won the contract to rebuild the Opera house that had been destroyed ten months prior by a fire. 

That night the place was finally reopening and of course they had been invited. The venue would officially open to the public the following night, that evening was a high end affair with the high end of the society and famous people. 

He was not a big fan of black tie events. He was an introvert. His company had won the contract and then asked some of the best architects to design a new venue. His project had won by a landslide, he got a promotion and became project manager. It had been a dream but he would have been happy to stay in the background and watch people enjoy his vision.

But unfortunately he was meant to go on stage make a speech and cut the ribbon with the mayor.

Aelin, always the extrovert, had been delighted at the idea and of bragging with her friends of how famous her husband was.

But her next grunt made him realise that even Aelin at that point would have gladly stayed at home in sweatpants with their kids and a movie and a lot of ice cream.

Aelin was three months pregnant with their third child and had reached the stage where clothes had stopped fitting.

“ Can I just show up with one of your hockey jersey and sweatpants?”

Rowan walked closer to his wife and puller her to his chest. She was just in his underwear and his hand gently covered the small bump that has just started showing “Fireheart, you are stunning.”

“I am fat.”

A gentle kiss on the spot behind her neck “Get dressed and tonight I will show you how hot I think you are.”

Aelin turned, facing him “you are biased.”

“No, I love you.”

Five minutes later he had manged to help her in a stunning black dress that showed all the curves he loved so very much. He had not lied. She was stunning. Stretch marks and all. 

They were finishing getting ready when the door of their bedroom opened and their two children appeared and Rowan smiled. Maya, their seven years old daughter, was wearing her princess dress with tiara and all. But the best view was Thomas, their five year old son all dressed up with his sister’s princess clothes too. He had a pink fluffy dress with a puffy skirt, a few fake pearl necklaces, clip on earrings and a red hair wig that Maya had used for Halloween. While his sister was wearing a tiara he had a big crown that was too big for him.

“Dada, we are ready too!” Screamed Maya.

“Mama, dada, look! We pwetty!” Thomas added while showing his attire proudly. 

Aelin burst into tears and knelt in front of both of them “you are both stunning, I am sure auntie Lys will give you a wonderful party for tonight.

“No,” said Thomas “We go with mama and dada.”

Rowan sat down near his son “Tom, you and Maya will have to stay with auntie Lys and uncle Aedion tonight. It’s grown up boring party,” explained Rowan who, all of a sudden would have preferred to attend the party his kids had in mind.

“But we dressed up,” protested Maya.

“I know my love,” added Aelin grabbing their kids hands then she looked at Rowan “what about you and Tom plan a party for tomorrow? Dad and I will dress up with you both.”

All of a sudden the kid’s smile grew “can I keep crown?” Asked Thomas timidly.

Rowan hugged his son “anything.”

The two screamed in joy and ran out of the door.

Rowan helped Aelin to stand up and she melted against his chest “Their party sounds much better.”

“I know, Fireheart. Tomorrow.”

“Can I be your queen for a day?”

His mouth met hers “you have been my queen every day since I met you.”

*

The following day the Whitethorn-Galathynius’ household was transformed in a fantasy wonderland. Aelin had transformed in queen and had sat all day on the armchair that Rowan had converted in a throne. He had dressed up as knight and both kids had put up a fashion show. Maya’s room had exploded and all her clothes had been everywhere while she had her brother paraded in front of their parents. It had been the perfect day. Rowan had even let Aelin and Thomas paint his nails while Thomas tried to braid his hair. 

Yes, the event the previous night had been the celebration of a career.

But this, with his family around him, was the only goal he really cared about. 

He stood and grabbed Thomas in his arms, "come on, let’s go and make mama and sis tea and biscuits."

And with his son still dressed like a fairy in his arms he waltzed to the kitchen thinking that he was the luckiest man in Terrasen. 

taglist

@rowaelinismyotp @swankii-art-teacher @whimsicallyreading @elentiyawhitethorn @aelin-bitch-queen @bruiseonthefaceofhumanity  @mis-lil-red @thegreyj @sailorsassley @leiawritesstories @clairec79 @morganofthewildfire @sv0430 @heartless--aromantic @autumnbabylon @rowanaelinn  @susumaus98  @gracie-rosee @mybloodrunsblue @tanvee1231 @avenrebekah @whoever-you-choose-to-love  @theywillnotsingforme @universallytreepost @black-daisy-water @goddess-aelin @whispers-in-the-darkest-heart @lovely-dove-zee @athena127 @mariaofdoranelle @yashiw @renxzs  @aelin-gods-killer

[i-magines]

Wildest Dreams: Chapter 3

Pedro Pascal x fem!Reader

CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 4 | CHAPTER 5 | CHAPTER 6  | CHAPTER 7 | CHAPTER 8 | CHAPTER 9 | CHAPTER 10

synopsis: You’re an assistant director in an indie movie set and fate makes sure you keep crossing paths with a certain Chilean actor.  

disclaimer: This is my first Pedro Pascal’s fictional work + the first fanfic I write in English, as it isn’t my first language. Unfortunately, I do not own Pedro and this is all a product of my imagination.

rating: M (keep scrolling if your under 18 please)

warnings: age gap, mature content, fem!reader, eventual drinking and drugs, a little smut but nothing crazy (yet), a bit slow burn but not really.  

word count: 1,509

Over the first month, your friendship with Pedro only grew stronger. You were afraid once the production set was moved to the country, he was going to just disappear, as you were no longer roommates. You’d be lying to yourself if you said he didn’t make you feel anything, especially with how charming and flirting he was. You both had shared a lot of personal stuff over smoking joints and you were already used to hanging out together after a day of filming. But today things were going to be different, because the producers had organized a little happy hour for the crew.

Speaking of them, you had asked Pedro to keep your friendship on the low, at least during the job. You knew what everyone would say and think, mostly about you alone, so you were looking after yourself. He understood that and apparently didn’t care to be sneaking out like a teenager to spend some time with you.

“There you are”, Pedro happily greeted you on the corner of the happy hour room, about two hours into the event. “I almost didn’t get the chance to see you today. How’s everything going?”

At this point, you were certain the director hated you, but thank God he was the only one. Everyone else seemed to really like you and your work, which helped a lot with your anxiety.

“He spent the day trying to drive me crazy… Again”, you told Pedro. “You?”

“I would definitely rather be directed by you, if I’m being honest” he said in sympathy. “But yeah, it won’t take long for me to tell him to fuck off. Super nicely, of course.”

You both laughed. You could see he had been drinking and so did everybody in the room. Somebody turned up the music and Pedro dragged you to the improvised dance floor. You danced for about half an hour, until you saw him going to talk to Donna, one of the producers. They seemed friendly— too friendly, if somebody asked your opinion. You noticed it before, how close they acted sometimes, but at the end of the day, it was none of your business. Flo, the make-up artist that got you the job, got your attention and you walked to her.

“What’s up with that face?” She shot you the question. Flo was in her mid 40s and you got to know her in your first gig, since then she was always trying to connect you with people. You really liked her and, most importantly, trusted her. “You looked like you were about to commit murder on the dance floor. I know Dave is giving you a hard time, but honestly he is doing this to every single soul.”

“I was just wondering, is Donna taken?”, you asked as if you had no intention behind it.

“Yeah, I think so”, she told you. “Why? You gay too?”

“Someti— wait, what?” You stared at each other for a few seconds. “Is she?”

“As far as I know”, she said simply. “And by that I mean I’ve known her for about 10 years now. Sorry to disappoint you.”

“No, you didn’t. I mean, good for her, right.”

You decided you need to put your shit together now on. You excused yourself and went to get another drink — you can be a new woman tomorrow. You took some shots and got a drink to hold while you watched everyone dancing and having a good time. You tried to force yourself to stop thinking about your crush on Pedro.

“I need professional help”, you whispered to yourself.

“And why is that?”

“Shit, Pedro!” You jumped, realizing he was right by your side. “You scared the shit out of me, you shithead.”

“Wow, language, sweetheart”, he laughed at your reaction, putting his arm over your shoulder. “What are you up to?”

“Not much, just enjoying the free drinks”, you replied, also enjoying the proximity of his body. “I can see you’re enjoying them yourself.”

“Nah, I’m thinking about getting out of here, people are starting to get too drunk and God forbid I witness anything I can’t unsee”, he was being playful and seemed happy when he got a smile out of you. “Care to join me? Or you already have plans for tonight?”

“Yeah, you know me, Miss Popularity herself”, you both laughed. “Seriously, though. I’m ready whenever you are.”

“Is it okay if we leave together? Considering your privacy policy”, he whispered in your ear. Only if he knew how weak that makes you. You just nodded. “After you, mi princesa.”

Fuck you, Pedro Pascal, you thought as you made the effort to move your shaking legs. Two options: first, he had no idea of his effects on you, or second, he did know that and he just liked to torture you. However it is, you were not willing to make a move to figure it out. 

The location of the shooting was a huge farm, so you walked together through the open field, towards his cabin. You got inside and took your shoes off.

“Hey, mister ‘I’m just a common worker as everybody else’, tell me again why exactly you are the only one with a private hot tube”, you teased him. He laughed. “Is it because you’re such good friends with Donna?”.

“So that’s what it was about back in the happy hour?” Pedro looked deeply into your eyes. “Such a jealous little girl, uh?”

You looked away, embarrassed. You can’t deny your brain formulated that sentence, but the alcohol spilled it out your mouth.

“Answering your question, I’m not really friends with Donna, but her partner is one of my closest colleagues in the industry”, he said in a patient tone. “And you’re welcome to use the hot tube whenever you feel like it.”

You could feel your cheeks burning. Fuck.

“I didn’t mean to— to be honest, I don’t even know what I meant, so don’t mind drunk Y/N”, you breathed out strongly.

“Why don’t we forget about it and instead go chill in the hot tube?” He offered you a smile. Pedro was so easy to deal with, always trying to make you comfortable. “I have more of that nice whisky you like.”

You quickly put on your bikini in your room and head back to Pedro’s cabin. You could hear the happy hour turning into a party on the back, as you joined him inside the tub. You did your best to not stare at his toned, tanned body. He was smoking a cigar and handed you a glass.

“You know what’s funny”, he started, you already knew you wouldn’t find it funny at all. “This is the second time I see you in a tub.”

“Well, fuck you very much sir”, you held a serious face before letting a smile scape. “That was traumatic.”

“Why is that? I would say you made quite an impression”, he laughed, something different sparkling in his eyes. “Would it bother you if I said I still think about it?”

You felt your body hot, as if the water was on boiling point.

“God”, you whispered. He never took his eyes off yours. “I don’t know what to say, Pedro.”

“It’s a simple question, sweetheart”, he replied, coming a little closer. You got chills all over your body. “Honestly, I don’t know if you only see me as this friendly, older, disgusting man—”

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” you cut him before he could finish. “Feel free to think about whatever you like.”

“Good”, he said quietly, his body even closer, but still not touching yours. “Tell me what you were doing on the tub that day, sweetheart.”

“I-I was, uh,” you felt like you were about to explode, your brain trying to process if this was really happening. “I was touching myself.”

“Finally, princesa”, he let out a deep breath against your neck. “You don’t know how many times I wanted to hear you say this, to be sure my memory wasn’t fucking with me.”

He touched your waist with his hand, putting the cigar away with the other one. You felt delirious.

“What are you going to do now that you know?” The question popped out of your mouth.

He grabbed your arm to move your body, making you sit on his lap. Face to face. He was hard as fuck.

“I will take you back to your cabin, give you a goodnight kiss…” He made a pause. His stare was deep down your soul. “Come back to mine and think ‘bout you while I mind my own business.”

He was dead serious.

“I’m too horny to go to sleep”, you cried to him, all your blood concentrated between your legs. You moved on his lap, rubbing against his cook.

“Trust me”, he said as his hands firmly held your hips down, making you stop and yet feel him ever harder. “I feel the same way.”

He gave you a little forehead kiss.

“C’mon, let’s get you to bed.”

CHAPTER 4 AVALIABLE NOW

TAGLIST: @kyuupidwrites @omg-its-typical-aesthetics-fan @vivibabiez @ivyohmy @sebastianstansimp @tubble-wubble @28cnn @3zae-zae3 @technicallysassyfox @bellatrixyoass @mandolover86​ (edit: i’m not sure why i wasn’t able to tag everybody i’m trying my best here)

[swiftieblyth]

Tangled start

warnings- long but cute

a/n- feel free to skip some of the dialogue, it’s mostly the Tangled script, just Tom and Y/N. Don’t worry, not the full movie

You and Tom were in the recording studio, it was the first day and you were going to do voiceovers and songs.

You were so excited to sing with Tom. Not just at home or karaoke. Tom didn’t give himself enough credit when it came to singing.

“Okay,” the director called from the other side of the glass with headphones on, knocking you out of your thoughts, as you and Tom stood up. “Okay, Tom how about you start with your opening monologue then we’ll go from there.”

“Cool.” Tom smiled, walking to the microphone, as you sat back down, ready to watch him.

“Ready when you are,” the sound guy said.

“This is the story of how I died,” Tom started in his American accent. You couldn’t help but smile as you watched him. “Don’t worry, this is actually a very fun story. And the truth is, it’s not even mine. This is the story of a girl named Repunzal. And it starts, with the sun.

Now once upon a time, a single drop of sunlight fell from the heavens. And from this small drop of sun grew a magic, golden, flower. It had the ability to heal the sick, and injured. Oh, you see that old woman over there? You might want to remember her. She’s kind of important. Well, centuries passed and a hop skip and a boat ride away there grew a kingdom. The kingdom was ruled by a beloved king and queen. And the queen, well she was about to have a baby, and she got sick, really sick. She was running out of time. And that’s when people usually start looking for a medical. Or in this case, a magic golden flower. Ahh, I told you she’d be important. You see, instead of sharing the Sun’s gift, this women, Mother Gothel, hoarded its healing power and used it to keep herself young for hundreds of years. And all she had to do was sing a special song.

All right, you got the gist. She sings, she turns young. Creepy, right?

The magic of the golden flower heals the queen. A healthy baby girl, a princess was born,” Tom explained looking at you, which made you smile even more. “With beautiful golden hair. I’ll give you a hint. That’s Repunzal. To celebrate her birth, the King and Queen lunched a flying lantern into the sky. For that one moment, everything was perfect. And then, that moment ended.

Gothel broke into the castle and stole the child. And just like that…gone. The Kingdom searched and searched, but they could not find the princess. For deep within the forest, in a hidden tower, Gothle raised the child as her own.

Gothel had found her new magic flower. But this time she was determined to keep it hidden.

Butt the walls of that tower could not hide everything. Each year, on her birthday, the king and queen released thousands of lanterns into the sky in hope that one day, their lost princess would return.”

“Cut!”

“Tommy, that was amazing!” You smiled, getting up to walk to him.

“Thank you my love,” he smiled, kissing your cheek as you hugged him.

“It was so beautiful, my very own Flynn Rider.” You smiled, kissing his lips.

💜💜💜

“Okay, and now for the final monologue, Y/N, you’re in this too.”

“Okay,” you smiled, as you and Tom walked over to the mic.

“Well,” Tom started in his American accent. “You could imagine what happens next. The kingdom rejoiced. The lost princess had returned. The party lasted an entire week. And, honestly, I don’t remember much of it. Dreams came true all over the place. That guy went on to become the most famous concert pianist in the world. And that guy? Well he eventually found someone to love. As for this guy, well, I assume he’s happy. He’s never told me otherwise. Thanks to Maximus, crime in the kingdom disappeared almost over night. As did most of the apples. Pascal, never changed. At last Rapunzal was home, and she finally had a family. She was a Princess worth waiting for,” Tom smiled, wrapping an arm around your waist, making you smile. “But above all, she lead her kingdom with all the grace and wisdom that her parents did before her. And as for me, well. I started to go by Eugene again. Stopped thieving, basically turned it all around. But I know what the big question is; did Rapunzel and I ever get married? Well I’m please to tell you. After years, and years of asking, and asking, and asking. I finally said yes.”

“Eugene,” You let out, rolling your eyes.

“All right,” Tom cut in, tickling your rib. “I asked her.”

“And we’re living happily ever after,” you smiled, looking up at him, so see his baby blue eyes looking at you.

“Yes we are.” Tom said, leaning down to give you a kiss.

“And cut!” The director yelled. “Great job!”

You and Tom pulled away from each other and took to your headset. You opened the door and walked out and were met by Lady running up to you both.

Her little tail was wagging, and her tongue was out, as she jumped up on yours and Tom’s legs.

“Hi, darling,” Tom smiled, picking her up. Lady barked and licked his face.

“Hi, my sweet girl,” you smiled, kissing her, and rubbing your face against hers.

[18250mm]

Clint’s Stray | K. Bishop

Gif not mine, credit to creator

Pairing: Kate Bishop x GN!Barton!Reader

Word Count: 1,255

Warnings: None. Just pure fluff!

Summary: Kate Bishop catches your attention and you quickly become smitten with her.

---

"Brought home a couple strays," Clint announced as he entered the house and gave Laura a hug.

Kate ran in after her mentor, Lucky tugging at his leash so enthusiastically that she had to let go before she fell flat on her face. "Hi," she greeted with a wide smile.

The way she stood by the door, gripping her backpack tightly, made you undeniably fond of her the moment she caught your eye. "Hi," you waved, gesturing for her to take a seat beside you on the couch — which she did.

Clint sat down too, handing the younger ones their presents while Laura headed into the kitchen to fix everyone some drinks.

"Kate, this is Y/N, my eldest. That’s Cooper, Lila and Nathaniel," he pointed to each child as he spoke. "And that’s my wife, Laura, in the kitchen."

"Nice to meet you, Y/N," the younger archer greeted, seeing as the rest were too preoccupied with their new toys. "I’m Kate. Kate Bishop."

You nodded and shook her hand. "It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Kate."

…

That Christmas wasn’t the last time you’d see Kate. In fact, between training and going on missions, the brunette spent a lot of her time at the Bartons’ home since it was most convenient for her and Clint.

Of course, that made it easy for you to get to know her too. The two of you got along well, as did she with your younger siblings. As time passed, your feelings for Kate only grew stronger, but you didn’t have the heart to tell the girl — mostly because you were afraid she didn’t feel the same way.

"This is me literally saving Christmas," the young Avenger announced, stepping through the front door with presents in one hand and boxes of pizza in the other. Lucky trailed behind her, his little hops an obvious sign that he was trying to get a slice of his favourite treat. "Uh, Y/N/N? A little help please?"

You laughed, shaking your head fondly as you got up from your spot at the grand piano to help the girl. Taking the presents from her, you placed them under the Christmas tree before walking into the kitchen where Kate had disappeared to.

"Wanna watch a movie before my parents get home?" you asked hopefully, pouring yourself a glass of water. "Coop, Lila and Nate are at Nat’s place. They’ll be back in a couple of hours with ‘Lena too."

"Sure, I’m down for a movie. Only if you agree to watch The Lion King, though," Kate teased, taking the glass from you and drinking from it. Your heart skipped a beat when you noticed she’d taken a sip from the very spot you did a minute ago.

Snapping back to reality, you rebutted, "But we’ve seen that a million times, Katie! Can’t we watch anything else?"

"Nope!"

Little did you know, Kate had purposely picked The Lion King because you’d both seen it so many times. That meant you could take your eyes off it anytime to do whatever you wanted to.

And boy, did she have something in mind.

…

"Y/N, I have to tell you something."

Your head snapped in your best friend’s direction, slightly irritated by the fact that she’d chosen to speak in the middle of Simba’s ‘I Just Can’t Wait To Be King’. You’d never admit it to Kate, but you were loving every second of the movie.

"What’s up?"

"I… uh, I’m going to tell you something very, very important. But you have to promise that you’ll still love me either way, okay?" the brunette treaded lightly, testing the waters and trying to gauge your response.

You stayed silent as a million thoughts raced through your head. What was she going to tell you? Was she going to reveal that she was in a relationship? Perhaps, she’d finally decided to move into the Avengers Compound, so she was going to tell you that she’d be spending less time in your home.

‘Calm down, idiot,’ you mentally scolded yourself. ‘Maybe she finished the last packet of Oreo’s. Yeah, that’s all.’

Okay, that might’ve been the worst assumption of the three.

"Y/N/N? Are you okay?" Kate waved her hand in front of your face, effectively bringing you back to reality. "Oh, good. I lost you for a moment there," she said nervously.

"No– I mean, yeah. I’m– I’m okay. What did you want to tell me?"

This was it. The moment of truth.

Taking a deep breath, the archer quickly spoke the words you’d been wanting to hear for the longest time, "I like you," she revealed, squeezing her eyes shut like it would save her from embarrassment.

Neither of you spoke for a few minutes. Why was it so hard to pick the right words to say when you’d imagined this scene a hundred times over?

"I understand if you don’t like me back," Kate finally tried again, placing a hand on your shoulder. "I don’t expect you to, Y/N/N. I don’t want to ruin our friendship but I couldn’t stay quiet about it any longer. Please, say something… or like, reject me so I can move on," she joked, but anyone could tell her heart was pounding in her chest.

Finally, a smile made its way to your face and you pulled the girl in for a hug. "Oh, Katie…" you gushed, cupping her face when the two of you detached yourselves from each other. "I guess this is the time to tell you that I’ve had a crush on you for a while too."

Blue eyes lit up upon hearing your words. "Shut up. You’re pulling my leg, aren’t you?"

You chuckled and stroked Kate’s cheek sweetly. "This is the most serious I’ve ever been, sweetheart."

"Then… can I kiss you?"

You nodded and soon enough, the archer leaned in and pressed her lips against yours. The movie soundtrack had long ended by now, but the both of you were too busy enjoying each other’s company to care about Mufasa and Scar’s squabble.

Kate tilted her head slightly to give you more access and you nibbled on her bottom lip gently, to which she responded with a soft whimper. When air became a problem, the two of you finally pulled away, foreheads touching.

With your eyes still closed, you couldn’t help the smile that appeared on your face. "I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time," you admitted sincerely.

"Hmm," Kate hummed in agreement. "Me too, Y/N/N. And… I would like to… do it again?" she asked, hope evident in her eyes.

That’s how you the two of you found your noses touching and lips pecking once more. Before either of you could take it a step further, you heard the front door open.

"We’re here!"

It was Natasha. That meant your siblings and a certain nosy blonde had arrived too. If you weren’t downstairs to greet them in the next thirty seconds, all five of them would practically break your door down to see what you and Kate were up to.

"Guess we better get down there," you said sadly, causing the young archer to groan.

"I guess you’re right," she sighed. "One more kiss before we go, though."

You grinned and let her pull you into her arms. Relaxing into her touch, you allowed Kate to hold you tight as your lips met for another kiss, this one more passionate than before.

That’s when you knew: Christmas would only get better from that year on.

[butmakeitgayblog]

I shouldn’t speak on anyone else’s behalf, but I’d like to hear about the new angsty not-fake-dating au idea please

Ok 👀

Gonna preface this by saying Clarke's overall character in the first half is... questionable. But listen just, set that aside for a minute and think of Clexa and also endgame 😅

So I was thinking something along the lines of Lexa gets recruited by a friend of a friend of a friend/distant classmate/ad in the college paper? Idk, whatever. But anyway, someone she's not at all close with or really has any ties to, and she's basically hired to pretend to be this girl's girlfriend for a group vacation her and her friends are going on (She's a nice girl, but a lonely gay/bi in a group of party girls/ habitually dating girls who always have Someone™ dangling off their arm, but this girl does not. Always looked over, the eternally single friend, etc. You get the gist.) And Lexa's hot. And kind of intimidating. Has that whole smokey eyed badass, femme fatale aura about her. It's... a reach, but also kind of perfect because it'll make this girl look fantastic to her friends in the street cred department and also possibly give her confidence the little boost that it needed. And considering Lexa grew up the only gay in her town, and didn't grow into her very gangly and awkward body until senior year of high school, she gets what it's like to always be the one passed up. Plus she could use the cash. So she's more than down for this. Everything's great, right? Right.

Except for the fact that one of said girls on the trip is in fact, Clarke. Who does have her own date. Now, I can't quite decide if Clarke would know about the arrangement or not, but regardless, Clarke has always been the main one in the group who is this girl's cheerleader. Very "you're better than how you treat yourself. You deserve everything, and it's not fair that people don't see it. The right person will fall in love with you in an instant, believe me. You're worth it." Very that supportive friend. She's ride or die until the end.

Now, Lexa's technically "on the clock" so to speak the entire trip, which means she is laying on the charm thiccc af. It's not exactly a stretch by any means because she is naturally a doting girlfriend in relationships (when she has one), but ya know, she's giving this girl her money's worth. She wants her feel like a princess for the entire trip. Yes it's a job, but it's also nice just making a girl feel special when she's not used to it.

The only problem is... Clarke is also seeing all of this. All of Lexa's sweetness and all of her thoughtful actions. Her attentiveness and her softness beneath the edgy exterior. The little presents Lexa surpises her friend with, the way she remembers her friend's little quirks. Always remembering her food preferences, her favorite drinks. Lexa's got this girlfriend thing down to a science. She's just so goddamn thoughtful and charming to boot. And also hot. Can't forget hot. Like really, unfairly hot. But mostly it's the way she's so gentle and sweet.

The other issue is, Lexa sees that in Clarke too. She sees that out of everyone, Clarke is pretty much the only one who actually treats this girl with kindness and respect. Never talking down to her or placating her, never just treating her like an afterthought. Clarke is so damn sweet and thoughtful, beautiful and fiery sometimes to a fault. She's funny, and warm, and just... the entire package. She understands why Clarke is never single.

But. It quickly becomes A Problem™. Because it's in the moments that Lexa is trying very hard to just focus on her "job" that she constantly finds herself in Clarke's orbit. In the mornings when she's up early making ~her girl~ her fancy coffee, late at night when she's tinkering around in the kitchen making her a lil snackie snack so they can watch a movie before bed. Those stolen interacting becomes moments of them just talking, Clarke on the counter as they chat while Lexa feels her eyes on everything she does. Them lounging by the pool while the others run into town for supplies. Dinners out with Clarke sat close on one side,,, while the girl sits on the other.

And there's flirting. Way too much flirting whenever they're in private. Effortless flirting that Lexa isn't really aware of until it smacks her in the face that they're both just idiots smiling. But it's all very cloaked in joking and throwaway moments because, technically, they're both supposed to be attached.

And as most things are, everything is fine. Until it's not.

The whole situation comes to a boiling point when they just get lost in one of those moments. A night of too many drinks and way too much flirting, finding themselves entirely too close in their villa's bathroom. It feels dangerously like the period on the end of a sentence that was written the second they'd layed eyes on each other. Before they realize what they're doing, Lexa's hoisted Clarke up onto the bathroom counter, her fingers pumping between Clarke's legs. It's a heated rush of moans and licks to sex-sweetened skin, both grabbing at each other through messy kisses meant to leave bruises. Both way too far gone into the release of all the tension to realize that... Clarke's being kind of loud...

It's a fucking catastrophe after that because yeah, well, Clarke definitely just cheated. In front of everyone. Including her "boyfriend". Though granted she'd only been seeing the guy for like a month so it's... it's not as earth shattering for her as it could be. But the real issue, the real vomit inducing kick in the moral gut is that she's just ruined the entire facade for het friend. Made her a look fool in front of everyone. Basically fucked the entire thing up for this girl who had only wanted to feel like she fit in. Just once. It honestly makes her feel awful. It's not like she just accepts it and feels ok with it, she is thoroughly disgusted with herself.

Obviously Lexa returns the money, letting herself be branded a homewrecker and cheater rather than embarrassing this girl further with exposing the truth that they were never actually together. She can carry that stigma as long as it means she's not doing anything to hurt this girl worse. She's caused enough problems as it is.

In the end everyone goes home. Pissed off or hurt or with a new bit of gossip to tell. Clexa going their own separate ways, without a single other word to each other.

The girl never talks to Clarke again when they get home and despite Clarke's efforts to try and make amends, she doesn't blame her. It was the single worst fuck up she'd ever made in her life. Which is why she takes the time to stop dating altogether and start really working on herself. Because she didn't like the version of herself who would do something like that to anyone, much less her friend. Feelings or not. Tipsy or not.

Lexa also never hears from the friend again, though that is not even remotely a surprise after everything. But she still wishes she could have done something to make things right. Some gesture or, or... something to fix what she'd fucked up so royally. It's a guilt she carries with her for a long, long while.

Eventually though, a few years down the line when it's more just a distant memory that still stings but doesn't burn quite as bad as it used to, the friend reaches out to Clarke in the form of a very opulent and beautiful wedding invitation that says she's... getting married to the guy Clarke cheated on that weekend. Clarke doesn't want to go, at all, but kind of feels obligated because not only is this the first olive branch she's ever gotten from her old friend, but also like,,, tf??? You're marrying that guy?!??! What the hell happenesd??? So she's gotta go. She has to, just to make the final amends for what she did.

Which works out well because the girl is all smiles and that bubbly laughter that comes from real, true happiness. She seems so easy and free when she tells Clarke that she is total over it. That they'd found the love that they'd been searching for in each other while commiserating through the pain of that trip. "Eh. Burnt toast theory and all that," is how she puts it with a lift of her champagne in response to Clarke's very thought-out apology.

So it's good. It's not great, and it doesn't make up for what Clarke did, but at least she now knows that her friend is at peace with what happened.

And then aND THEN Clarke catches a glimpse of Lexa at one of the tables across the room. Looking awkward and unsure and still disrespectfully hot in her formal wedding attire. And her friend, in all of her wedded blissed out glory, is like "Oh right. So. Speaking of blasts from the past. I invited another old friend... You should go say hi."

With the bride's blessing, she does exactly that despite her absolute terror at the prospect of seeing Lexa again. They have drinks and reminisce over wedding cake about that fucking shitshow of a vacation, catching each other up on where they are in their lives now and how they've been. They talk about how stupid they were. How awful and, honestly, immature. But through their embarrassed commiseration and disgust with their past selves, they both carefully (and not so carefully) toe around the subject that while they both do regret the way it happened... neither actually regret that it did. Because the sex had meant something. Because the feelings were entirely real. Those late night talks and time spent together still mean something today. Even through the messiness and the people hurt in the aftermath, the connection had been real, and in the end it had always sort of felt like the other was 'the one who got away'. So, drinks turn into dancing, which turns into Lexa catching a ride home with Clarke in a designated cab. And before either of them know what's happening, it's Clarke that Lexa is making breakfast for in bed 👀