#like… she best out evermore guys

[dearreader]

the way that maisie says “still don’t play the black key” then proceeds to play the black key to let us know she’s an unreliable narrator and that what she’s about to tell us through her album isn’t 100% truthful cause the past is a haunted house no one lives in but she’s trying to make it a past he could live in. so she’s actively lying to us all and letting us know

[acotarxreader]

Papertrail

Azriel X Reader

Synopsis: For months Azriel had gotten to know you through the intelligence letters you penned from the Autumn Court but finally meeting reveals your twisted reality.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, descriptions of injury as a result of domestic violence.

A/N: I hope you guys like this fic, I enjoyed writing it despite the nature of the beast. Please proceed with caution or not at all if you believe the themes in this lil guy to be upsetting.

P.S this got equal votes with the silly one in the poll but I'm listening to Evermore rn so ye're getting the angsty one hehe

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Azriel’s grin dashed across his face like a Cheshire cat as he tried and failed to tuck it away in the presence of his friends. He read through the words over and over again, a lighthearted quiet laugh leaving him. 

“What do you have there Az?”

“Nothing” he replied too quickly to Mor thrown across the sofa of the Town House, her eyebrow raising as he began to carefully fold it back away. 

“They’re his love letters” Cassian cooed from the hallway, shaking off his jacket as the Spymaster tried to do the same to the maroon growing in his cheeks. 

“Leave it Cass” the letter found safety within Azriel's jacket pocket again, usually these would be disposed of after reading but Azriel knew he’d need the comfort of your words again after this trip. 

“I think it's cute”

“It's not cute Feyre, it's intel” 

“Intel? Is that what you single people call it these days” Cassian smirked, finding his place next to Nesta on the couch, arm thrown over the back of the seat behind her. Azriel fought the way the word single made his heart twinge even if it was said in jest.

“It's none of your business is what it is, where's Rhys, we'll be late” Azriel tried his best to change the topic but it became like a cat playing with a mouse.

“You should see him when they arrive Mor, he blushes so much you'd swear he was from Dawn” 

“I do not blush!” A playful couch cushion met Cassian's laughing face, the group joining in, a smile escaped Azriel to his own annoyance.

“Tell us Az, do you have as much correspondence with your other insiders?”

“Yes”

“Liar” Mor laughed, the sound of Rhysand landing in the garden echoing through the joyous house. 

“You write her more than anyone, your face betrays you when you're writing”

“It does n-”

“Who’s face betrays them?” Rhysand flexed his wings gently after the long flight before planting a kiss on the top of Feyre's head and joining his family gathered in the living room. The group looked in unison towards Azriel, all grinning widely. 

“Ah, Az’ little love affair”

“It's not a love affair! I've never even met her, she writes me intel and I writ-”

“-That you love her on bathroom stall doors” The group laughed at Mor's quip as the group stood to leave Velaris for another laborious visit to the Autumn Court. 

“I don’t-I don’t love her”

“Sur Az, maybe try telling your face that” Cassian called back to him as he draped his coat across his broad shoulders once again. 

—------

The meeting with the Autumn Court had its usual turbulence but thanks to the information you had provided, no major surprises were brought before the Inner Circle. Azriel watched from his usual perch in the corner of the meeting room, Rhysand and Beron engaged in their typical vitriol. The Spymaster's gaze landed on Beron’s particularly brutish General as he stood to the side of his High Lord. 

“Kelvin, show our dear guests their way out, we've reached an impasse” Beron bit out to the tower of a male who stood obligingly, the negotiations reaching their usual stalemate. 

“Your High Lord seemed especially prepared for this meeting, Shadowsinger” Kelvin whispered to Azriel as the group made their way to the exit of Forest House. 

“That’s his job”

“Even still, interesting how there seemed to be a prepared argument for every notion that was put before him, I would hate to hear that people aren’t playing by the rules” Azriel didn’t let any part of the thinly veiled threat rattle him, only a scoff left him, brushing off the accusation. 

The group ducked out into the Summer air through a large door they were directed to, Kelvin stopping Azriel to continue their conversation just before the threshold. Azriels hand went into his trouser pocket in a practised nonchalant movement, his jacket draping over his scarred hand. A shadow leapt to the ground of the now empty hallway before Azriel even noticed, his beloved slip of paper meeting the ground with softness. Kelvin was quicker to retrieve than the shadows were to conceal, a rookie mistake Azriel cursed himself for mentally. 

“Hmm, your correspondence Shadowsinger” The paper sat slotted between the General's first and middle finger towards Azriel, he moved to take it back, much too quickly, it being pulled back from his grasp again.

“Hm, eager to retrieve?”

“It’s nothing” Azriel lied through his teeth, wondering how much damage to diplomacy would be caused by slaughtering Kelvin where he stood. Kelvin splayed his two fingers slightly, pulling the folded paper apart to reveal a small sliver of your penmanship, his face hardening instantly as a shadow shot to snatch the paper back. Azriel was just glad that that particular letter had been personal and not vital intel, no major security threat in its exposure could be achieved. 

“Right well, enjoy your night” Kelvin's abrupt, frosty end to the conversation was not lost on Azriel as he watched the giant male seemingly stomp down the stone corridor. 

“C’mon Az, it's time to go” Cassian's voice tore Azriels eyes from Kelvin's back.

-

Further meetings between the Courts were relatively uneventful, Kelvin kept his distance from the group and made himself unavailable for meetings with any of the inner circle. Azriel had contacted all the Autumn Court spies he had to ensure they stayed on alert, all had replied except for you. Every night Azriel would wait for the note he’d sent down the line to you to reappear, but it never did. After a month of radio silence, Azriel had become increasingly irritable and restless in his work, had even tried to contact the Fae who had initially put you in touch, but nothing came of that lead. He paced his small living quarters in the residence the Night Court used in the Autumn Court, unable to take his mind away from the imaginary scenarios in his head. 

“Az, you’re going to put a hole in the floor” Cassian stepped squarely into his brother's path, his arms catching hold of the paling Illyrian's shoulders. 

“We have to get downstairs, the ball is starting and if you’re not there, Beron will think you’re off snooping and get spooked” Azriel shook his head in agreement to the logic, moving from Cassian's grasp to fix his suit jacket. 

The two entered the already bustling ballroom with the coordinated power that comes with centuries of familiarity. The Autumn Court guests meshed in with the Court of Nightmares guests Rhysand had invited, this attempt at building bridges seeming to work, as long as the alcohol was freely flowing. 

An hour or so later, Azriel had managed to escape a particularly persistent fae in favour of a darkened corner of the space. His eyes traced over the various members of the gathering, all deeply swirled in an alcohol-induced truce. He watched the tower he knew to be Kelvin tip his head back in laughter at some comment one of his lackeys had made. His gaze was pulled back to the General with the sudden appearance of a much smaller fae at his side, a smile that didn’t meet her eyes gracing her face. Azriel’s shadows instinctively shot with quiet excellence to wrap softly around your ankles beneath your dress. You cautiously tore your attention from the conversation, locking eyes with the Spymaster across the dance floor. The colour drained from your face and almost as quickly reappeared, you just gave the smallest of nods towards the Illyrian. Azriel’s thoughts went wild at the sight of you, feeling every cell in his body confirm to him that you were who he’d spent all his time thinking about these days. He moved a step forward in your direction, your head ever so slightly shaking no to the movement. Azriel felt his nerves scream at him to walk towards you, fighting some level of primal instinct as he stayed fixed on the spot. 

“Drink Shadowsinger?” Eris’ voice caused his head to snap in the direction of the source. 

“Not poisoned is it?” Azriel took the flute of shimmering gold, some of his shadows returning to glass, swirling around it before confirming to him it was safe. 

“One day you’ll trust me”

“Maybe it’ll be the day you keel over and die” Eris laughed at the sarcasm before noticing Azriel’s eyes land back on you. 

“Ah, YN” Azriel’s head darted back to the eldest son of Autumn, his somewhat amused words confirming your identity to what his instincts had already told him. The female he had spent months learning so much about but never dreamed of meeting was stood in the flesh mere metres away and you seemed to want to keep it that way. 

“You know her?”

“In a social sense, she is Kelvin’s wife-” he took a deep drink from his glass, seemingly drowning a comment in the liquid. Wife. You were married. Azriel fought to keep upright, you had never mentioned anything about being involved with anyone, how could you be married to someone else, you both had shared such love through your correspondence, all for it to be a lie, Azriel thought. It became clear then how you had such unbridled access to the workings and plans of the Autumn Court, that you were married to the male who made them. 

“-She hasn’t been around much lately-” Eris continued “-she tends to avoid these kinds of gatherings, he must have let her out to play”

“Let her?” Eris necked the remainder of his drink, depositing the glassware on the tray of a passing server. 

“This isn’t the Night Court Shadowsinger, Kelvin belongs to a very relic-like line of thought, she belongs to him, he controls the reins and she has to go along for the ride. He probably has something to gain from her presence here” Azriel’s heat boiled in his veins, threatening to come out as steam from his ears. Eris rolled his eyes at Azriel’s silence, growing bored of the interaction and heading to find someone else to play with.

You stood at the edge of the circle of large males, seemingly enjoying the conversation alongside your husband. Azriel noticed the way your long dress clung to your bones, sleeves as long as your arms with a neckline that practically touched your ears, an odd choice for the Summer, even in the Autumn Court Azriel thought. You dipped your head slightly as Azriel watched you make your exit from the group, Kelvin’s eyes heating your back until you entered an adjacent hallway. Before Kelvin would notice, Azriel dissolved into the shadowy corner, his shadows eager to reunite with you. 

“Just a moment” you called back to the soft tapping on the bathroom door. You supported your weight on the counter of the sink, glaring into your own reflection as you tilted your head side to side to inspect the coverage of the make-up you had applied over any traces of betrayal. Your attention was taken from the mirror as a shadow slipped beneath the entrance, you watched it approach you with such gentle caution until you moved to unlock the door with a shaking hand. Hazel eyes looked deeply into yours, afraid to blink in case it was all a dream. 

“Hello stranger” You couldn’t find a reply to him, only reaching for his shirt and hauling him into the bathroom. 

“Are you fucking crazy?! Did anyone see you!?” You rattled out, pacing up and down the small space, Azriels shadows wrapping around you. You looked down at them with a loving smile, a sense of familiarity between you and them.

“No, no one saw me, I-I can’t believe you’re here and…and you’re married!” you stopped dead in your tracks at Azriel’s slightly raised tone. You dragged a hand down your face, trying to pull some control back to the tiled space. 

“I-I didn’t think it was relevant”

“Not relevant!?” Azriel rasped out, his hands partially flailing out in exasperation, and your eyes clung to their movement. 

“It-its a need-to-know basis”

“I would think I would be a part of that, fuck it we told each other practically everything else about one another!” His volume grew moderately, heat rising at the back of your neck.

“Don’t be mad at me Azriel, please” A shiver shot down his spine at the sound of his name on your lips, any semblance of annoyance fleeing the scene. 

“I’m not, I’m just glad that you’re okay, the radio silence frightened me” he closed the distance between you, the smell of mist and mint flowing around you as his hands laced into yours. 

“Azriel, I’m-I’m married”

“Happily?” he laughed out, it dying in the air with your lack of reply, worry starting to transverse his face.

“YN?”

“I-”

“YN!” Kelvin’s voice accompanied by heavy pounding against the solid oak door, your whole body flinching at the interruption. 

“Coming!” you called back, the rattle in your voice cutting into Azriel’s ears, your hands pulled from his soft hold. 

“Azriel please go”

“YN, I don’t like this” his hushed tone matching yours, Kelvin's footsteps haunting the hallway. 

“Azriel, please just go”

“I’ll go if you promise to meet me later”

“Azriel”

“YN! Come on!” the pounding on the door returning, the handle vibrating much like your bones. 

“Fine, fine, I promise, go” you rushed over to the door, your hand landing on the handle tremulously and after whispering where to meet you later, Azriel reluctantly dissolved into shadow once again. 

-

Azriel reentered the party like a bull in a china shop, unable to refocus after your encounter, he waited for you and your husband to reappear, but you didn’t, the party swirling around him. He counted the minutes down until the party had come to a natural stopping point and he could escape to meet you in the wooded area behind your house, allowing conversations to ebb and flow around him. 

Finally, he could make his excuses to head to bed, spending all of a minute changing into his training clothing for easier agility. He snuck through the shadows of Forest House as though made of their atoms, moving with precision through passageways until he found his way to the city, slinking through the dwindling crowd with ease. 

Azriel waited in the wooded area for nearly an hour, his shadows casing the vast forest for your presence with nothing to show for it. He decided to take things into his own hands as the depths of nights swaddled him. He moved closer to the two-storey property, the glow of the kitchen light filling the small patio beneath a colossal oak tree.

Azriel could make out the outline of Kelvin and a few others from the party, clearly having decided to continue the revelry in his home. Music flowed out through the opened window, his shadows sneaking through the cracks to scope out the ground floor, returning to Azriel with no knowledge of your presence in the private party. Azriels eyes landed on the flicker of a candle from the upstairs of the property, his shadows beginning to leap around him. Scaling the large tree was an easy feat for the skilled Illyrian and soon he was level to the window. 

The blood drained entirely from the Shadowsingers face at the scene through the window. You sat in a ball, knees split open and huddled into your chest, the dress that shielded you earlier now in tatters around your ankles leaving the cruel water colouring decorating your body on full display. The beautiful colours of Autumn coated your flesh in their brutality as crimson flowed from a gash, tinging your hair. 

Downstairs Azriel could hear booming laughter from the group, fresh new thoughts of slaughter entering his mind.  A shadow faintly tipped against the window, the sound rocketing through every cell of your body as you jolted with the fright. Your tear-stained eyes landed on the Night Court’s Spymaster who clung to the trunk of the tree outside your chamber. Your tremoring muscles lifted you from the splitting wood, over a shattered lamp covered in your blood. You delicately pushed into the hinges of the window until it gave in under your weak strength, the Summer air rushing in to meet you. Azriel skirted across the limb of the tree to slip into the space, your eyes fixated on the wood as he landed nimbly. 

“Y-YN?” he approached you like a wild deer stuck in a bear trap, afraid speed would cause you to bolt and lead to further injury.

“I-I’m so-rry I didn’t-didn’t come meet y-you” you managed through your quivering throat, the taste of blood and bile poisoning the words. Azriel gave you a small hush, his shadows surveying every stretch of your skin they could.

“We need to get you out of here” he spoke so quietly you almost missed it in the drumming of your ears.

“I-I can’t go with you”

“YN, theres-theres so much blood in your hair” his hand calmly raised to brush the maroon matting away from your face, the source at the crown of your head gleaming in the moonlight. 

“He-I shouldn’t have been so-so long away from him ear-earlier” You fought every urge to lean into Azriel’s touch, an unfamiliar sense of trust towards a male's hand growing in you. 

“Fuck that” Was all Azriel could think to say, moving quickly and quietly away from you again. His shadows wrapped around you to support you as you stood watching the fleet-footed Illyrian grab some things from around the room, the sound of the brutish males merrymaking downstairs covering his movements. 

“Azriel”

“YN, you’re coming with me” some of his shadows returned to his ears in almost an excited fashion.

“Good idea” he replied to them as they darted out the window again, your heartbroken eyes began to swell with tears of pain and anguish.

“Will you be warm enough in this?” He pulled a thick coat from the splintering wardrobe, Azriel getting the feeling it had been a heavy feature of your battlefield, wishing the thought away.

“Azriel, I-I can’t go, I’m his”

“No-” he turned to face you as he spoke, seriousness coating the entire word as he held out the coat to you again “-You belong to no one other than yourself YN”

“Azriel, that’s not how that-that works here”

“Well it is now” He sheathed your mottled skin, the thick fabric, its weight causing your exhausted legs to buckle slightly, Azriel’s arm instinctively wrapping around your chest to support you from the side. You sucked air sharply through your teeth, Azriel releasing you again.

“Sorry YN, I didn’t mean to hurt you” his eyes searched yours frantically as you folded your arms across yourself, your hand tracing the growing deep magenta along your ribcage.

“It's ok-okay Azriel” he turned back to the small satchel he had begun to fill, slipping it over his shoulders. He moved back to the climb to the reach of the tree, arm outstretched inviting you to take hold of him. 

“Azriel” 

“YN, either you come with me or we both stay” his soft but firm voice had you rocking from foot to foot trying to decide what to do, caught between your potential future and your definitive present.

You looked towards the destroyed room in front of you and back again at the Illyrian offering you the answer to your prayers. You exhaled as deep as your chest would allow you to, moving closer to the window, the sound of crunching ceramic beneath your feet the only sound in the room. The only sound in the room. The only sound in the room. 

The door swung screeching on its rusting hinges as the General of the Autumn Court crashed into the room in a drunk swirl of rage, amplified by the sight of his wife’s rescue. Azriel leapt from his perch to block you as a blood-curdling scream left you, instinctively hitting the ground for cover. Before Kelvin could reach for you, Truth-Teller found its home in the thigh of the male, his blood springing free from his network of vessels, reaching and mixing with your own on the floor. The giant hit the flooring with an almost deafening thud, writhing in pain, alcohol stealing any chance of a coordinated retaliation. Azriel retrieved the knife, hovering over his new greatest enemy. 

“You will suffer a thousand deaths for this, but not right now, not when it would be merciful” Venom dripped from his bone-chilling tone, a cadence you knew would never be directed at you. Shadows once again filled the room, scraps of paper in their grasp covered the space as Azriel crossed back towards you, pulling you back to your feet and into his arms. Swarms of multiplying shadow cascaded and concealed you both until they dissolved, leaving the two of you in the warmth of a small living area. 

“Now, home again” Azriel breathed out in relief, you found a small smile grow, mirroring his ease as he pulled you to his side and over to a plush loveseat. 

“Azriel I-I can’t believe what-what just happened”

“And I can’t believe I had enough restraint not to murder him where he stood, but Rhysand hates paperwork and besides, I have bigger plans for him” Shadows nipped the side of his shoulder playfully as he retrieved a cup of floral tea from the kitchenette in his small studio apartment.

“Fine, we have plans for him, so praise starved my little friends. Go fetch Madja for me sweeties” he played back to them as they darted off happily. 

“And what exactly have you all planned?”

“Well, Beron is suspicious the Court has a leak and with some careful…editing, now he’ll find his leak” he passed the cup down to you, covering your legs in a throw blanket.

“You had the shadows plant letters in the house for Beron to find?”

“Well, in the morning we’ll send Eris word that you found the letters and he attacked you for trying to tell the truth” he slotted into the seat next to you, a damp cloth in hand to run along your tangled hair, freeing up the clumps of blood. 

“And when they ask why I’m here?”

“Eris will award you with an emissary to the Night Court position, so loyal to the Autumn Court, the perfect fae to keep an eye on us” You found a slight laugh leave you, the sound bringing a grin to Azriel’s face. The sound of light tapping on the front door accompanied by Azriels returning shadows signalled Madjas arrival.

—-------------------

You awoke the next morning to the plush fabric of Azriel’s king size bed, the fabric swaddling your freshly stitched skin. You reluctantly opened your eyes, afraid you had dreamed the past twenty-four hours as you forced yourself upright in the bed. You looked around the cosy well-loved space, hints of Azriel everywhere, except for the Illyrian himself. He had left his makeshift bed on his couch early in the morning, eager to begin his ruse. 

You crossed the room to the small kitchenette on your world-weary legs, a tray sat gleaming on the counter with fresh scones and the fixings to make the floral tea you loved last night. A smile grew as you heated water on the stove for the tea. 

While the water rolled to a boil, you wandered around the space, taking in the world that Azriel had let you into in his letters, still in disbelief, that this had all happened. Your hand crossed over the bag on his desk, the random assortment of wares Azriel had packed making you laugh slightly. The water hissing as it boiled over the rim of the saucepan had you rushing over to it, bumping into a tall tower of boxes as you reached for the stove. You jumped at the sound of crashing files from behind you, scrunching your face before reluctantly turning to the mess you had made. You cursed aloud, kneeling to collect the reams of paper as Azriel knocked before entering his own home. 

“Hey YN, all don- what’s going on here?” He laughed before panic started to dash across his face, rushing to conceal the content of the parchments. 

“Azriel…are these….are these my notes to you?” you held a small collection in your hands, Azriel reaching to snatch them from you in a protective manner.

“Don’t…don’t tell Rhys I’ve kept them” he said with almost shame, crouched across from you as he carefully folded the paper. 

“Wh-why did you keep them?”

“Because they’re you YN” he looked from the penmanship to the female who gifted him the words that kept him company for months. You leaned off the backs of your legs to reach across the piles of history between you both until you met Azriel’s mouth with yours. He leaned further into the kiss, the two of you still kneeling in the nest of paper. His hands traced gently across your waist as yours wrapped around his shoulders, your inner gravities pulling one another together with tender force. Scarred hands ran up the length of your back, meeting equal chasms and fissures, both of your marred stretches of skin feeling whole again. The feelings of true safety and security flowed between you both coupled with the energy of shadow and fire finding home in one another. It felt as time no longer existed, never-ending and final, like nothing beyond the pools of paper mattered. You separated as the need for air sailed towards critical, your hands slid down his chest as his slipped around the nape of your neck, you both leaning in to rest your foreheads together, careful to not reopen your wound. 

“YN, you’re my…”

“Mate” your glowing soft eyes landed on his smiling hazel as they seemingly sparkled. 

“I was going to say my everything but I believe those are both the same from here on in”  

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Whatcha think friends??

The lovelies: @milswrites @sarawritestories

[buckyownsmylife]

out of the woods (chris evans x famous!reader smut)

the one where Chris watches an interview of you on the Ellen show

Warnings: mention of small stature in comparison to Chris, smut thoughts, Ellen Degeneres trash talking/thinking, cursing, mention of prescription medicine, talk of age gap (reader is younger than Chris), jacking off, daddy kink

WC: 3k

A/N: this doesn't really have an ending, so if you all like it, I might make a series out of it - the idea is that you are also famous (for acting, singing, writing) and have been friends with Chris but there's always this underlying tension between the two of you. It goes without saying, but I'll say it anyway: no, he's not married in this story nor do I intend to feature Alba in any part of it whatsoever.

Chris’ P.O.V.

I was scrolling through Twitter when I realized some fans were tagging me in a short video of Y/N on Ellen DeGeneres’ show. I knew she had gone there by herself, mostly to promote her new album, but also to give some publicity for our movie, so I was aware that she would probably talk about me at least a bit… Curiosity got the best of me and I clicked the link to check the video for myself.

She looked gorgeous as always, her hair down in that way I loved so much and her skin seemed to be as soft as ever under the mini dress she chose to wear, her legs stretching out and making her look taller than she actually was. I chuckled, remembering just how small she looked by my side.

I remembered one time when I lifted her up, bridal style, and spun her around the pub we had close to the set, after the Patriots had won a game. Despite not understanding the game, she tagged along and celebrated every time I got excited, like the cute person that she was. I got so transfixed by her giggles back then. They were the sweetest sound and the only thing I heard, despite the fact that we were in the middle of a very loud bunch of dudes. 

I found myself imagining again, as I had then, what it would be like to have her under me, trapped by my arms in bed, or better yet, against a wall, only my thighs securing her in place while I made her moan with my touch. How would she sound? Or, better yet, how would she feel?

Christ. 

Shaking my head, I tried to gather my thoughts so as to not let them stray too far in that direction, something I didn’t have much success in doing, despite the fact that I had been practicing that simple habit every single day since I met her. But it was proving to be a nightmare. She was just far too tempting.

Shaking my head once more, I focused on the video in front of me. My heartbeat had sped up as soon as it started, but I tried to tell myself it was because I was scared for her, since I knew how Ellen could get invasive sometimes.

“So, Y/N…” She started, eyeing my co-star. “You have just finished working on a movie with someone we’re very familiar with, isn’t it?”

Y/N giggled, nodding at the blonde woman. “I suppose so. We have just finished the promotion for it, maybe you guys have already seen it?” She asked the crowd, who went nuts at her. It was sweet to see this kind of feedback, I truly believed in our movie and the fact that I got to know her was just an added bonus.

“For those of you who don’t know what we’re talking about, it’s called ‘Be Here Now’ and it’s currently in a theater near you. Y/N stars alongside Chris Evans, who we love so dearly here, and they play brother and sister as they try to reconnect after their parents' passing.”

More applause at that. I couldn’t stop myself from rolling my eyes at her idea of love. Last time I was there, she made me pretty uncomfortable, and I knew I wasn’t the only one who felt that way.

“So, how was the process for you? We know you’re familiar with the filming process, since you star in your own series ‘Evermore’, that sent you to stardom, along with your songs, but you had said before you’d never act outside of it, since your true passion relies on music. What changed your mind?” Ellen sat back as she said that, already comfortable with the fact that something good would come out of this interview, since Y/N had been pretty vocal about what made her decide to do the movie, even with me.

“Chris did, actually. Or, in fact, the fact that he was cast in it.” A chorus of “aws” echoed around the room and there was no way to know if they were real or prompted, but they were quickly interrupted by the host.

“So, you were a fan?” She instigated, as to what Y/N nodded again.

“Of course. Well, my mom more than me, but I was the one who introduced his work to her, so…” She poked her tongue out at the camera, to which my heart (and my cock) jumped in response. “Ever since I got into this, when I first had the idea for Evermore with James, I told him time and time again I would never act outside of this, because I had no intention whatsoever on becoming an actress. I have always been in this for the music. Well, the writing. I’m a writer, I like writing scripts and songs, I’ve fallen into this performer thing by accident. But I’ve always been adamant about the fact that if I ever had the opportunity to act alongside Chris, I’d take it. It doesn’t matter that I don’t think I’m good enough. It didn’t even matter if the script was terrible, which thankfully wasn’t the case, I just really admire him and his work and I would never live with myself if I turned this opportunity down.”

Even though I knew most of this, I couldn’t help but to gloat at the fact that this incredible woman actually admired me. She was so much better than me in so many things, even acting, and she still thought I was great enough to get her to participate in a movie. 

“So, what I’m hearing is, you have a little crush, that’s right?” And there it was. The coup. Of course. That evil wench…

“That’s what you took out of everything I said? Jesus, Ellen, has anyone ever told you that you listen like a man?” Ouch. That one was perfect. Being the ambassador for females and lesbians everywhere, it couldn’t not hurt her, especially coming from someone as angelical, sweet and universally-loved as Y/N. I appreciated the quick second her smile faltered before it became plastered on her again.

“No, I haven’t heard that before… But tell me, have you met any of the other Marvel actors? I mean, granted, there are a lot of them now, but especially those who have worked closely with Chris?” Y/N shrugged at that.

“I have been friends with Elizabeth Olsen for a very long time, we’re very close, but other than that, no. I haven’t had the chance to properly meet, or rather, hang out with any of them.”

“Who’s first on your list?”

“Anthony Mackie,” Y/N promptly responded, getting a few laughs and claps from the audience.

“My, you had that answer ready” Ellen teased, to which Y/N simply shrugged again. 

“We talk through social media sometimes and I know for a fact he’s hilarious. I hope we get to meet sometime. I might just have to bug Chris about it.” She had already, in fact. I couldn’t wait to introduce them to each other and I was already planning my next party just to be able to make that happen.

“What about Sebastian?” Ellen asked, a glinter of something extremely suspicious in her eyes.

“Sebastian Stan? No, we haven’t met, but I’d love to get the chance to someday. He seems extremely sweet and I know he’s very talented and Chris loves him, so I think it’s a matter of time until it happens.”

“I heard somewhere you had a bit of a crush on him, right? Even if you don’t admit that you have one on Chris?” This fucking woman. I could fucking kill her right now. But, to my surprise, Y/N simply laughed.

“Truly, you have got to check your hearing sometime soon, because that is absolutely false.” 

“Really?” Ellen pushed, to which Y/N beamed even brighter at her.

“Positive.” A beat as the two women stared at each other down. “I think what you meant is that I have had a huge crush on his character, Bucky Barnes.” Y/N explained, laughing at the host. “I admit that only happened after I saw Sebastian’s portrayal of him, but my attraction to a fictional character can’t be really connected to him.”

Ellen nodded, obviously not paying attention to anything she was just saying. “Well, let’s figure out who do you actually feel attracted to, shall we? Let’s play fuck, marry or kill!”

The audience screamed and, to my surprise, Y/N didn’t even blink, a patient smile painting her lips as she calmly watched the interviewer. “So, Y/N, between Anthony, Sebastian and Chris, who would you rather fuck, marry or kill?”

Y/N shook her head, still smiling at the older woman. “I couldn’t possibly answer truthfully to this question, Ellen, mostly because I am not capable of feeling carnal attraction to people I have never met, but I can 100% assure you that I would marry Chris without blinking twice if there was a choice.” 

My heart skipped a beat at her words. The crowd went crazy, obviously satisfied with the answer.

“And you’re sure you don’t have a crush on him?” Ellen’s eyes glistened with mischief, as she stared at the younger woman.

“Ellen, I think the question here is… Are you sure *you don’t have a crush on him?” The laughs from the audience was the last thing to come from the video before it stopped, and I found myself echoing them in the silent living room. Oh my, how I missed this girl.

I tapped my fingers nervously on my jean-clad thigh, looking around the room. I had been staying in Boston with my family for the last few weeks, since the movie premiered and we had finished promotion, and I had found myself constantly calling her to share funny stories from my nephews or to hear about her day. I knew she wanted to meet my family, she had always said she admired the fact that we were so close, despite there being so many of us.

My mom obviously loved her, having been a fan of hers long before I even heard about her existence. So what if…? 

Before I could second-guess myself, I pressed call in the name of the woman I had been thinking about. The phone rang three times before she picked up, stopping me from giving up on this crazy idea.

“Hey, Chris! How are you? I missed talking to you, it’s so weird seeing you everyday for four months and then suddenly not at all anymore.” I know I was literally forty, but I literally melted at this girl’s words.

“Did you now? Is that because you wish we were married, so we could see each other everyday?” Her breath hitched as she realized I had seen the video and I could just imagine the cute little embarrassed expression she was probably sporting right now. I tried to ignore the fact that my words and tone of speaking had suddenly become way too similar to when I was flirting with a girl.

“Fuck, you saw the interview.” I had never heard Y/N curse before, so the fact that I suddenly had no control over my mouth could be explained by the unavailability of blood in my head, since it had all gone south.

“Come stay with me for a while,” I spilled suddenly. Silence was the only answer I got from the other side of the call and my heart sped up in a way that only happened when I was truly anxious. I was already cursing myself out for scaring the poor girl when she finally answered.

“Are you serious?” She asked, her voice barely over a whisper. It was obvious how vulnerable she was feeling, and a sense of overprotectiveness overcame me. “Please don’t joke about this, Evans. This better not be a prank. ‘Cause I really do miss you a lot.”

Fuck indeed. There was no way something good would come out of this idea, but there was no way I would go back either.

“Of course I’m being serious. Come to Boston. You can stay with me, but I think my mom is going to steal you before you even settle in.” A large breath came from the other side.

“Okay. Okay! I’m going to pack my bags. Yay! I’m so excited!” She was clearly jumping up and down with the perspective of what was to come, and I couldn’t help the smile that painted my lips not only at her cuteness, but also due to my own excitement at her arrival. 

“Great! I’ll be waiting.” My heartbeat still hadn’t gotten back to a normal speed. “Text me the details of your arrival, I’ll pick you up at the airport.”

“Chris, I don’t think that’s such a good idea…” I knew what she meant. If someone caught sight of us together at the airport, or even the fact that she was here in Boston, all hell would break loose in the press.

“Shhh, don’t worry about it, baby girl. I’ll take care of it.” I froze, only then realizing what I had just called her. A few seconds ticked by while I silently freaked out, wondering how I could brush this over, when she intervened.

“Thanks, Chris. That was pretty much the best thing I’ve ever heard. I just might forgo my prescription medicine while I’m over there, because you’ve been able to completely relax me with just two sentences.” She giggled and if I was at first leaning towards thinking she was sarcastically teasing me, just by the nature of her words, the tone of her voice made it clear that she actually meant what she had just said.

Once again, I was at a loss for words, especially because I couldn’t help but to allow myself to imagine that this was her, flirting with me a little bit. The blood I so desperately needed in my brain had once again left to pump another organ full of life. I was saved from having to answer, though, as Y/N quickly wrapped up the conversation.

“I’ll text you the details of my flight in a little bit. See you soon, angel.” She hung up before I could process the nickname she had given me. 

“Fucking hell,” I whispered, finally relenting and getting up from the couch to take a shower to rub one off.

I had found myself in this situation more times than usual after meeting Y/N. Normally, I’d only do it out of boredom, preferring to fuck someone whenever I’d get sexually frustrated. But the last few times I had taken girls from parties into my bedroom, I could only see her. Y/N. And I hated how disgusting I felt after it was done, the fact that I didn’t care about the girl I just fucked and the fact that I imagined my younger friend.

So now I resorted to this kind of activity. As the warm water started to hit my body, I allowed my right hand to travel the extent of my body until I found my hardened member. “Fuck,” I found myself whispering into the bathroom as I tugged on my cock. Images that I had spent a lot of time concocting in my head flashed in front of me, all of them starred by Y/N. 

I imagined her nude body here with me, under the falling water. How her breasts would heave with every breath she took. Would she be as filled with desire for me as I was for her? I imagined the path the warm droplets of water would run across her skin and how I wished I could lick its remnants. 

Maybe she’d fall to her knees before me, looking up from under her eyelashes with that coy expression that drove me crazy. Her lips would softly kiss the tip of my cock and she’d still be watching me, analyzing my reactions. I would do my best to restrain myself, allowing her to get accustomed to my member, but my hands would eventually find their way to her wet strands, creating a makeshift ponytail that would facilitate my vision of her work while I still managed to control myself and not use it to guide her.

She’d kiss the skin all around my cock, quick little kisses just to tease me before going further down to suck on my balls. I’d throw my head back, begging her to do what I needed, and she’d finally succumb, wrapping her lips around my tip before slowly sucking further down my dick. She’d be relentless, eventually being able to swallow my whole member down her throat, and I would look down again to see her looking up at me with a proud gaze in her eyes.

“Such a good girl,” I would whisper, just before I finally snapped, using my grip on her hair to pull her from my cock until just the tip remained tightly squeezed by her lips, until I pushed her all the way against me again. “Take this fucking cock like the little perfect girl you are for daddy.”

And she’d take it like a pro, a satisfied smile on her lips as I fucked her mouth, eventually breaching into her throat, making her gasp for air, tears in her eyes as her hands flew to my hips in an attempt to slow me down. But she wouldn’t really, opting for simply carving her nails on my flesh as she took every single rope of cum I’d deposit between her eager lips.

Fuck. I let the water wash away the sin I had just committed while sending up a prayer for better control when Y/N arrived. The last thing I needed was to be stuck in the bathroom, touching myself while she was at my house.

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Do it for Us | Jeon Jungkook

Summary: Mr. Jeon has got your mind all mixed up and you don't have the strength left to say no. Pairing: fem!reader x Father in Law Jungkook Word Count: 2.3k Warning: Yändere sumt, manipulation into cheating, suggestive and explicit language and an excessive amount of crying lol a/n: This is part two of Do it for Him requested by @coralmusicblaze I hope you guys end up liking it! I got so many new followers and notes after the first part so thank you so much!

As my lips move against his I can't help but let the tears continue to fall. "It's okay love, there's no need to cry" he says pulling back a bit and brushing a few of them off my cheek while studying my features. "I wish you wouldn't cry but you really do look gorgeous when you do, I'll have you crying for other reasons soon though, don't worry" he says caressing the side of my face before taking my hand and leading me out of the room. My whole body cringes at his words but I follow him blindly nonetheless. The tears never ceasing while my heart breaks with every step we take. 

Crossing the doorway into the bedroom I share with my husband I stop dead in my tracks, the guilt overcoming me, the gravity of what I'm about to do finally sinking in. "Mr. Jeon I don't want to do this anymore" I say trying to wipe the tears off of my face, proving useless as they continue to fall evermore. "Darling we're already half way there, let me take care of you" he says turning back around to face me, closing the distance between us. 

He caresses my face again and laces his fingers through the hair at the nape of my neck, gaining a better hold on me to keep me in place. I reciprocate the kiss as best as I can but I can't stop the trembling of my lips, still so disappointed in myself. He pulls me in against him by my waist and walks us closer to the bed without parting from my lips. Once we do he softly guides me down onto the mattress, placing his hand on the small of my back, making sure I land softly. 

"You look so pretty laying there, being so good for me" he says while loosening his tie and throwing it on the bed beside me. "You know you're doing something amazing for our family right? My son will be so happy, finally giving everyone what we've always wanted. The child will be beautiful, just like their mother" he says while unbuttoning his dress shirt and taking it off, my eyes automatically tracing his figure, making me want to vomit once I've realized what I had done.

"Baby, eyes up here please" he coos sitting next to me on the bed encouraging me to look in his eyes. "Don't call me that" I say glaring up at him "and stop talking" I say sadness dissipating, irritation taking it's place. "Aw there she is, the brat I've always taken you for" he continues, still cooing at me despite my defiant nature. "I'd keep my mouth shut if I were you" he whispers in my ear as he gets on the bed hovering over me. 

"Play nice and I'll make this pleasurable for the both of us darling" he continues, tracing his hand down my figure, his fingers now coming in contact with my bare waist, my shirt having risen up a bit from when he had laid me down. I flinch at how cold his fingers are and he smirks knowingly. "I'm sorry angel, I'm sure you'll warm me up soon" he says and gets up to take off his belt, the clanking of the metal making me feel sick since I had heard that same sound just hours ago when I was with my husband, being in this same position. 

I can still smell his scent on the pillow next to me, the thought of him close helping me escape for only a moment before I feel the bed dip, signaling the presence of his father next to me. "Will you let me undress you?" he asks, his fingers trailing up my shirt and drawing circles on my waist. "I'll do it myself" I say getting up off the bed, giving my back to him and doing so as quickly as I can, wanting to finish this as soon as possible. 

I can feel his eyes following my every move before I feel his hands on my hips while he places kisses on the back of my shoulder "Gorgeous" he whispers in my ear, nose nudging into the side of my neck, taking in my sent. "I'm not doing this for indulgence Mr. Jeon, I'm doing this to take the pressure off my husband. That's it" I say feeling myself get slightly breathless feeling one of his hands rubbing over my stomach almost caressing it. 

"You're going to look so gorgeous when you're pregnant with my child. Watching you stomach swell day by day, knowing that it's mine. It'll drive me mad knowing that I won't be able to have you like this again" he says starting to kiss and bite on my skin. "No marks, he'll notice if I have new ones" I choke out and feel tears forming again, hating that I have to worry about something like that. I despise cheaters and I swore never to become one but I'm not doing this for myself, I'm doing it for him, for my husband and for our future. 

"They'll fade by the time he get's back love don't worry, and if they haven't I can make his time away last even longer if you would like me to" he says before biting down on my shoulder making me let out a moan that I wish I could take back. "There you go, keep making those pretty sounds for me" he says and places a kiss where he had just bitten to soothe the pain before guiding me to lie back down with little to no fight left in me.

I have small burst of it left but nowhere near as much as I need to stop this so I lay motionless and wait for him to finish getting undressed, his boxers the only item left on him. Once he takes them off he comes back to hover over me once more, trying to kiss me again but I turn my head away. "I don't think kissing is necessary Mr. Jeon" I choke out and I see him tilt his head to the side but ultimately agrees. "Too intimate for you? I understand, I can respect your boundaries" he says and settles on kissing my neck, setting my body and mind at odds. 

I try to hold back any noises I may make but it's impossible since the skin there is so sensitive and he seems to know it. "You don't have to hold back, you can be as loud as you want. No one will be able to hear you scream, it's a natural thing to do you know," he says trailing his fingers up my inner thigh "a way to thank the one that is giving you pleasure" he finishes using his hand, urging me too open my legs for him. 

He decides to slide back down on the bed and takes his time ravishing my body. "Been thinking about this for so long" he says looking down at my cunt which is already wet but not as much as he would like it to be. He sticks a finger in and watches as I whine softly "Aw this pretty cunt has already been fucked today hasn't it? You're still sensitive, I guess he has been treating you well" he says nuzzling his nose in against my clit leaving my body jolting at the contact. "But not as well as I can treat you" he says and licks a long stripe along my slit paying special attention to my clit. 

Although his kisses on it are tender and almost loving in a sick and twisted way it still drives me into over sensitivity. "Please" I whine more, hating the sound of my voice right now begging him to stop. "Please what Pretty?" he says looking up at me through his lashes. "Please just do it already I don't want this to go on longer than it has to" I say looking up at the ceiling, hating the sight of him between my legs like this. 

"Alright" he says sounding as if he's been denied something he's been craving for for so long. "But don't you think for a second that I won't be coming back here to eat that pretty little pussy the next time we do this" he says regaining his positing on top of me. 

"Next ti-" I start questioning but am cut off by my own moan as he shoves himself inside of me. "Fuck, you're still so fucking tight. One dick wasn't enough for you today sweetheart?" he taunts, brushing a hair off my face. "Shut up" I say through gritted teeth before he thrusts in harder this time. "What was that love? Couldn't hear that" he says clearly doing so in punishment for my disrespect. As if I could ever respect him after this. 

I stay silent and don't dare to make eye contact with him and angle my head up to the celling, closing my eyes trying to block everything out. "Fuck no wonder he wanted to marry you. Between your pretty little face and this addictive cunt I wouldn't dare to let you go either" he groans, prolonging my torture. "Stop saying things like that, please" I say blinking back the tears. 

"Why? You don't want to be reminded of the fact that you're cheating on your husband with his father? Is that it?" he ask and thrusts into me harder this time "Yes" I cry, tears falling again from all of the combined emotions and sensations he's giving me. "The deed is already done love, why not enjoy it?" he taunts, wanting me to give in to him and again, I'm losing the battle. 

He slows down his thrusts and changes them into something more sensual, more intimate. "Stop! Just go faster please, just finish already" I beg wanting to keep at least some form of intimacy left untouched by him. "If that's what you want" he says and picks up the pace again showing me no mercy anymore. "You like being fucked like this? Having your cunt ruined, leaving you sore, barely able to walk straight" he taunts and I cry out, feeling nothing but pain, the pleasure never enough to overcome the anguish I feel for betraying to only man I've ever loved. 

"Shit, are you close?" he questions a few minutes later, having kissed and sucked and bitten all over whatever parts of my body he can reach while inside me. "Yes" I lie, clenching around him purposefully. "Fuck do that again" he says his thrusts stuttering and I do as he asks. "Y/n look at me" he says using my name for the first time since we've started. "Say my name" he say holding himself back from his release. "Who is giving you this much pleasure?" he says sticking him fingers in my mouth for a moment, getting them wet enough so he can bring them down to play with my clit. 

"No please I don't want to" I sob, the pain getting to be too much for me. "Say it! Say it or I won't cum inside you" he say which brings my eyes snapping back over to his, scared to be denied what I had been searching for, the only reason I'm doing this. "I-" I start but he thrusts inside me harder again leaving my back arching off the bed and before I'm able to think twice I do as he says. "Jungkook! J-jungkook please, please just finish already" I yell sobbing from being so close and also begging for this to be over. 

"Look in my eyes and say my name again. Fuck-" he groans through gritted teeth and I look over at him eyes glossy from all of the mixed emotions I'm having. "J-jungkook" I sob one last time which has him cursing and thrusting in as hard as he can and a few seconds later he's stuffing me full of his release, finally getting what I wanted, the only thing I wanted. He lets out a chant that sounds like a slur of my name, the rest incoherent fucking himself into me to ride out his high, mine still on the edge not having tipped over. 

He pulls out of me, watching as he does so and sees some of his cum start dripping out of me. "Can't waste any of it now can we?" he says using his fingers to gather it up and stuff it back inside me. "You never came" he says brushing the hair out of my face after opting to sit next to me on the bed. I flinch at his motions, wanting to be as far away from him as possible now. "It's fine, just go" I say placing both of my hands over my eyes trying to get them to finally stop shedding tears. 

He reaches over and kisses my waist which again has me flinching, opening my eyes and snapping them back to him, surprised by the gesture "Ease your mind" he whispers,  "It's all over" he finishes and places one last kiss on my stomach. "See you soon" he says mumbles to my stomach, taunting me with the fact that I'll soon be carrying his child. "Get out!" I yell, picking up the first thing I find and throwing it at him, with him narrowly dodging it. 

"I'll come back tomorrow to see how you're doing since you won't let me take care of you now" he says and grabs his clothes and walks into the bathroom in the hallway to get dressed, but once he emerges I call out to him before he goes. "Jungkook" I say having him stopping in his tracks, coming back in and leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed. "Not a word" I say while glaring, repulsed with everything about him. 

"Not a word, just trust me".   

Read the epilogue here I did it for You

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[ptolemaeacles]

♡ being hazel callahan’s cheerleader gf hcs

pairing: hazel callahan x cheerleader!reader

synopsis: what it’s like dating hazel (post huntington fight)

notes: unofficial part two to this !! if you guys have anything to add, feel free to hop into my inbox or comment, i love interacting with you guys !!

word count: 1k

after the huntington fight, she finally took you out on a date. she completely wracked her brain for days trying to find the best place to take you.

most likely, asked josie where she would take isabel since the four of you seemed to be parallels of each other (nerdy, loser lesbian and her super hot, preppy gf)

going back to the first date though, i would imagine she took you to an arcade or maybe a diner (like josie and isabel were at). and of course she shyly asked you if that’s what you wanted.

hazel and you were sat in your english, making usual conversation since the both of you had finished your work. hazel realized it was probably a good time to ask you about that date.

“so i wanted to ask you, um, about the date. i know it’s been a few days and i’ve been planning it but what do you think about the diner? you know, after school, you can pick the day if you’d like, or if you changed your mind, we can just not go at all, it depends on you-”

“haze,” you stopped her with a soft smile and putting your hand on top of hers, “i’d love to go to a diner. that’s perfect. and tomorrow is good with me if it’s good with you!”

hazel sheepishly smiled back at you.

“yeah, it’s good with me.” she murmured.

after the third or fourth date, she wanted to pop the “will you be my girlfriend” speech badly. she wanted it to be romantic but not cheesy, heartfelt but not corny, cute but not cliche. god she was over thinking this like a motherfucker.

and to her surprise, you popped the question before her.

hazel was lounging on the loveseat in the corner of your room while you were sitting cross legged on your bed. the both of you had decided to study at your house after school. (not much studying was done so far. often getting distracted by making out with each other. so much so, the two of you had realized that nearly an hour had passed which resulted in hazel moving to the loveseat so the two of you could get some actual studying done.)

“so did you divide both sides by 6 or by 4? i don’t get that part.” hazel lifted her gaze from her notebook to you, who was already looking at her.

you decided to just blurt it out.

“haze,” she hummed in response, “do you want to be my girlfriend?”

hazel felt her mouth go dry. she really did want to be the one to ask you but it was so much hotter that you asked her.

“yeah, uh, yes, fuck, i’d love to.” she exclaimed.

now onto the actual BEING hazel’s gf (i love to over explain things, sorry)

hazel’s love language is definitely physical touch or gifting-giving. not super into pda but will put her arm around your shoulders or a hand on your lower back when you’re walking. if she’s feeling risqué, then an arm around your waist.

no matter how long you guys have been dating, she still gets nervous around you. doesn’t matter if you woke up with horrid morning breath, messy bed head, and/or a puffy face, she’d still look at you starstruck, as if you held the entire world in your palms. she’s a hopeless woman in love.

she does have a lot of money (probably one of those kids who refuses to say she’s rich, she calls herself “comfortable” …..) but she loves to make gifts for you. i can see her being into welding or wood workshop. (not sure if all schools have these types of classes, i’m american soooo)

100% makes wooden sculptures or welding a ring with the both of your initials on the inside. she made a wooden sculpture of the two of you holding hands (you nearly cried when she gave it to you)

very big music lover. listens to divorced dad rock. pearl jam, metallica, nirvana, etc. probably a minor swiftie (really obsessed with folklore and evermore but not a big fan of her other albums) definitely listens to boygenius (she listens to ‘leonard cohen’ and thinks of you). likes r&b/rap from time to time. (frank ocean, mac miller, a bit of tyler the creator.) oh and some 80s r&b like sade. her playlist is very diverse to say the least.

not really a gf headcanon but she’s definitely got some irregular allergies. strawberries, i would say. walnuts too.

PLAYS GUITAR. both acoustic and electric, she's interested in drums too and she tried learning how to play but it was too loud for her so she quit. writes songs for you but you would never get her to perform them or even show you in a million years.

LOVESSSSSS to nap and cuddle with you. a lot of the time, she invites you to her house under the guise of “studying”. you’ll be grabbing your backpack ready to pull out your english homework and she’s grabbing her blanket and asking you to just lay in her bed with her for “5 minutes”. you guys end up falling asleep (exactly like she planned) and wasted 2 hours. it was worth it.

“okay so i think we should start with our english homework because we need to brainstorm for the ess-“ you opened your bag, ready to study with your girlfriend.

“we can do that later, babe,” hazel grabbed your bag and set it on the ground, “aren’t you tired? i mean you walked all around campus, which is huge, might i add-“

“not really-“

“doesn’t matter. we should lay down and rest a bit so we can have clear minds, and we’ll be ready to study.” hazel had already kicked off her shoes and crawled into her bed, lifting her blanket and silently asking you to lay down with her.

“only a few minutes, okay, and then we have to get to work.” you breathily chuckeld, not impressed with your girlfriend’s antics.

hazel giggled and ushered you under her blanket, wrapping her arm tightly around your waist and tucking your head in the crook of her neck.

you knew what her plan was but she was too cute to say no to.

[funficwriter]

A Wolf and A Snake (Wriothesley x Reader)

Chapter 2: Will the Chaperone Approve?

A/N: WHO'S READY FOR C2?! I hope you guys enjoy this :D

Taglist: @yue-caelum, @reyy-chanx, @mis-disaster

Synopsis: Being a noble meant that marriage was a chess game, not an affair of love. Unfortunately for the pristine Balthazar family of Fontaine, Y/N has long been enamored with love and sought it out before their priorities. After her grey, boring time of courtesy, she meets Duke Wriothesley, who makes her yearn for the first time in her life, and it's the same for him. Threatened by the idea of losing this first, it seems they'll stop at very little to be together...

Warnings: Controlling/abusive parents, discrimination (towards Wrio), sexism, reader has a breakdown, yandere themes.

Your parents loved the idea of you taking a vacation not to rest, but because 'absence makes the heart grow fonder'. They were clearly referring to the nobles, who would only pine more if you were unavailable for a while.

Last night, you all returned from Belleau, warmly welcomed by the main manor's staff. Your favorite among them was your governess, Agatha; Though she generally listened to your parents' instructions, she occasionally broke some rules for you. That night, she waited until everyone else was asleep to bring you some cake, in exchange for you telling her about the nobles.

"And what about Duke Arya? I know you looooove braggarts!

"No way! All he does is talk about himself like he's Focalors!".

And you'd both laugh. You loved how Agatha has evolved to be a mother figure to you. It was unfortunate when she had to go and let you sleep, but oh well.

You knew this time would come; It was the morning, and you saw a servant bring tea to the room where your parents read the declarations of courting that were received over the vacation.

"Pierre, please call my daughter here. We must discuss something of the utmost importance.".

The servant would nod, your status as a young maiden really hammering home the point. You walked in, a little unnerved by the warm smile your parents sported, but better that than scowling.

Your mother was the first to talk: "Ah, good morning Y/N. You look as beautiful as you ever did.".

Your father, always thinking ahead, had to add on: "Indeed, so beautiful to make half the Court's dukes turn their heads!".

He let out a loud, victorious laugh. Maybe it would take you a while to get used to this pride for you. You sat down, looking over the small stack of papers. It was truly fascinating, in a weird sense: All these crests and emblems, clearly signaling many different gentlemen... And they all shared the same recipient sitting right in front of them.

"So as per custom, your mother and I have looked over most of them. We've already scrapped the ones from barons, since you can clearly marry up with your amount of choice!".

Was there choice? While it was true that you had a smidge of a say, it was just that. Furthermore, that smidge had to be based on standing, finances and the criteria deemed 'important' for your marriage. Love was not on the list. Maybe a word tossed around or an act indulged in, but nowhere near the other criteria.

How would they react if you told them who you truly wanted to marry? How would they like their daughter throwing away business owners, legacy holders and other 'fancier' nobles for the one who dealt with the backdoor business of Fontaine? No matter, you decided to use that 'smidge' to the best of your ability.

"I'm glad to see I can marry up.".

"Yes, yes. Now look here, my dear. Your mother likes Count Evermore, since he seemed sweet with you...".

And off your parents went off, comparing this Lord and that important person to the other. There was whose business would last longer, which last name had more history, which was cleaner... After the third new name, your mind fazed out to Wriothesley. You wanted to be courted by Wriothesley. You wanted to say yes to Wriothesley. Screw the Evermores, Archadelles, Demauris... Being a queen itself did not compare to being his Duchess of Meropide.

"There are still a couple of unread letters, though...".

"Eh, I don't know. My heart's already set on Archandelle or Evermore... But we'll see these too. There's Dukes and Viscounts, which is good...".

It was as if timing synced up. Your mother grabbed an envelope featuring a wolf crest. No, the wolf he wears right under his shoulder.

It seemed relatively short, but the text must be good. Your mother looked pleased for a minute.

"Oh, my! Gentlemen who are this sentimental about their potential wives are quite rare! Oh...".

When she got to the sender's signature, the dreamlike effect waned off of her. It was as if she was hoping someone else had sent this one. Your father took one look at the crest and understood it all. Nevertheless, he still read it. For now, playing a little dumb (as any good girl should be, in their opinion) sounded like the best option to prod.

"Who is that, father?".

He took a deep breath and looked at it as he answered: "Duke Wriothesley of Meropide. (he chortled) I wonder if he took writing classes while we were away?".

You didn't know how to feel anymore. At first, your despair was replaced by the sheer joy his name brought you. Yes, that was the one you loved best! And you saw some of his past written inquiries, he was always well-spoken and eloquent. Why was your father insinuating that the opposite was normal? You wanted to see it and compare it to what he wrote to your grandfather.

"By the way, Y/N, there's something we must ask you. During our last party, you were seen chatting in a rather... Animated fashion with him. What were you talking about?".

Crap. You should have expected gossip to fly around and narrow your parents' eyes at you. You went with the safe answer: "Mostly books and music. He likes going to the opera whenever he can.".

"But we don't see him often, so I'm presuming he's not always free, is he dear? I was frankly shocked that he even came to the party.".

You knew they'd be nitpicky about even nobles who fit their bill, let alone someone considered 'atypical'. But did anyone see you two leaving? Heart thumping in fear, you prayed to Focalors that they just heard of you two talking and nothing else.

"I mean... Mother, father, while he may not be the most typical Duke, he's still an important component in Fontaine's justice and security. Haven't you noticed crime rates have plummeted ever since he took over? Just like Count Evermore, he holds justice close to his heart.".

Your mother nodded, seeing your point of view, before turning to your father: "I prefer other gentlemen, but she's not entirely wrong. We want her to be with someone who exemplifies Fontaine's core values, just as she embodies them.".

"Yes, yes. We might take that into consideration, but listen to me, Y/N...".

You were so sick of these lectures, but it seemed like your point might hold weight. Grin and bear it. Grin and bear it for him.

"We'll want to consider as many as we can, then narrow down the choice, which will happen after the next event. However, we've raised you to know the best options. You know there are many, many better options laid out to you right now. Unless something happens and they fall from grace, for example, keep the bulk of your attention on the Dukes we have discussed most.".

"...Yes, Father.".

He called out to his wife: "Aren't I right? Isn't what I'm saying the core of successful marriage?".

"Yes, yes, my dear. Though she'll entertain many conversations, she'll focus on our best options. And I must say, it's entertaining how we didn't have to do that much narrowing down, since she's got choice.".

He smiled fondly at you: "Indeed. I know we've raised a fine, young lady. Only at her social debut and she's already brought us so much praise.".

For years, you had yearned for this moment; Your parents smiling like the ones in the fairy tales, kindly praising you and reminding you that they loved you. Had you had this recognition a couple of years ago, you'd readily accept whatever husband they threw at you. But at this stage, it was too little, too late. Your heart has already been captured by Wriothesley, your thoughts invaded by him and no amount of love (Which, conveniently, only arrived after their 'investment' paid off) could change that. You focused on the bright side of seeing him again, and the chance he'll get of putting a good impression to your parents. A Duke was well-versed in that, especially if he liked the lady in question.

The servant knocked: "Forgive me for disturbing this important discussion, but young Lady Y/N's tutor has arrived and inquired as to whether she has lessons for today or not.".

"Oh heavens no! You should get going, my dear. Skipping lessons would be the last thing you need!".

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

"That sounds like quite a feat of courage on your part, Duke Archandelle!".

"Indeed, Baron Balthazar. But it might not be courage so much as enjoying the hunting season.".

You did not like this arrangement; Your parents and yourself were with Duke Archandelle, the two men chatting away. Within its course, your father seemed happier and happier, which was bad for you. He's looking for any Duke to pick over Wriothesley, and if Archandelle is 'too good' per say, you know who you're getting paired off with and it's not the one you makes you swoon, laugh, or question the deeper nuances of life. Not the one you love.

"You remind me a bit of myself in my younger years. It's a rite of passage to go after the largest deer your group can find.".

"And the night that followed was equally as thrilling. (he gave you a slight glance) We watched a gorgeous ballet number at the Opera. The Lady of Cooler Waters, I believe.".

The mention made your parents more excited. Here was a kind, courteous gentleman who helped you watch your step, who enjoyed the hunting season and the arts in the same day. Manly, but not brutish. Basically, a perfectly adjusted and balanced gentleman.

A knockoff version of my Wriothesley. How thrilling.

Speak of the devil, tufts of black and silver hair appeared in the sea of blondes. They were twisting around, as if their head was turning around a lot to look for something. In the end, it was someone, and there he was, looking so broodingly handsome and making every other man in the room look average at best. His blue eyes scanned the room, and once they landed on you, it was over for the both of you.

You wanted to swim in those cold eyes until you got hypothermia. You wanted to be thrown into their cool pond and feel the temperature restart your system. But what a paradox took place; Once he found you, your heart felt ready to explode on the spot, and your temperature was rising rather quickly. The once-light dress now felt stuffy. If you fainted, how would you explain this to your parents? You saw his own pupils dilate and his stoic expression break out into an enchanted smile that meant a million more than your parents' or that stupid Archandelle's.

He's here. He looks so handsome. His smile is so cute and gorgeous. Why can't he just come in and join our conversation? Stupid high society social codes!

You could tell that he was trying to get close, already in conversation with a few others nearby. Though they were trying to focus on what he was saying, they were gazing - either in surprise or in prejudice - at his wolf ears.

So rude! So ignorant and incapable of realizing that he's far more handsome that he ever will be!

Once Archandelle left to catch up with a friend (not before obnoxiously letting you know that he wants to talk to you again), a bit of freeway opened up for Wriothesley. Ever the go-getter, you didn't doubt that he'd take it.

"Ah, Baron Balthazar, you picked quite the lovely night to plan this.".

Your father smiled, although it looked rather forced. You bet he wouldn't look like that if it was any other noble: "Duke Wriothesley! What a pleasant surprise, we were worried that you might not make it!".

"Oh? Well, I've always had a penchant for surprising people. How do you do, Madame Balthazar?".

Your mother exchanged pleasantries in the same tense way your father did, her eyes narrowing down on his ears. No wonder he was so happy when you expressed appreciation for lycanthrope culture; Everyone else was being such a jerk about it, and you wondered how he lived side by side with it. Maye you can ask that later.

Though he talked to your parents, you couldn't avoid his gaze. He didn't like a lot of the people here, them included (not that you could blame him). He didn't come here for them, but for you. Enough with the pleasantries, he decided.

"I think by now, you know of my feelings regarding the beautiful young Lady Balthazar. And so, I couldn't let myself show up without a present for her.".

He handed you a small, silver box; Sleek, minimalistic but with a beauty that didn't need the other nobles' gaudiness to shine. You opened it to find a silver bracelet (how did he guess your wrist size, anyway?!) adorned with the same wolf emblem he wore.

Deep breaths! Deep breaths! Don't faint or blush, act normal!

After one, you finally got to talk: "Oh, Your Grace! I-I... Forgive me for my lack of speech, it's splendid!".

Your original plan was to not be too excited by him, but could you really help it? A few other nobles got you presents, too, but you had to question your class' taste in what a lady would like. This was just perfect. If it weren't for your parents, you'd wear it right now, but you had to control yourself.

Your father coughed: "Hem! Er- Thank you for the thoughtful gift, though one would deem it a bit too confident to have their crest on it... Say, how are things at the Fortress?".

He had the urge to punch this annoying old man. Here you were, happy and frickin adorable over wearing his crest, already so eager to demonstrate who you belong to, then here comes the Baron to shut this moment down.

"Pretty stable for now. We aren't receiving many new inmates. Perhaps people are losing interest in crime, in which case, that's a victory for Fontaine.".

"Mhm. Yes, indeed. We have much to thank you for, especially your service. I can imagine it's a hard job.".

He chuckled a little, stealing whatever gaze he could at you (man, he felt like he was reverting to his young thief self): "Not necessarily. Most people behave, and you learn quite a bit. I'm still rather young for a Duke, but ever since I started, I've become much better at protecting what matters to me.".

As he talked, it was more obvious that by 'what matters', that included you. Now the image was stuck in your head: You, in danger for whatever reason, and him dashing in to save you and proclaim that you're his drive, his love, what matters to him the most. This sounded like your fairytale prince. Did anyone in your manor think that way of you? Did you even matter to the other nobles beyond potential unions with a historic and important name?

"I'll cut to the chase, Your Grace, since my daughter is the biggest reason behind the last two events. Say you two married; Would she always be what matters to you? Do keep in mind that that's a heavy proclamation.".

The beautiful thing about Wriothesley was that he was ready for such questions. Most nobles hired a conversation coach to 'deal with the maiden's father' so they could speak well in front of him, thus swaying his opinion in their favor. Wriothesley was genuine. Earnest. He only needed himself to back up his claims.

"I said it, and it will always apply. If you know me well, you'll notice, dear Baron, that I'm a man who finds principles that work and sticks to them. The same applies to deciding my priorities, even if other people may not see what I see.".

"What do you mean by that?".

"I myself was always interested in being married, but you know how the start of a career is; So hectic, you can barely think of anything else. I could see where the rumor of me losing interest in companionship came from. Now that I'm more established on several aspects, I can focus on my own personal goals, including being a good husband."

"Yes, indeed. It does take a gentleman a while before he gets married. And considering your important position, I can presume my daughter will be taken care of?".

Perhaps you should look into a Kamera, to always have a picture of that sweet smile: "Without a flicker of a doubt. And I know courtship should take a while. Please take all the time you need to decide. Should you want to know anything that you think might impact the process, please let me know.".

You wanted to declare victory; He could stand against Duke Archandelle and (at least) make the choice harder for your father.

"Do forgive me suspicion, dear Duke, but does what matters to you extend to... you know... People who aren't, of your ilk?".

Oh no. Oh no, no, no please...

As he said 'of your ilk', he pointed at his own head, referring to Wriothesley's wolf ears. You could feel your love tense up, but keep his cool for another reason besides you; Hybrids were held to such an unfair standard. One trace of annoyance or anger from them and everyone would talk about how 'they're too dangerous to live in human society!'.

"Pardon, my ilk? We're all noble Fontainians here.".

"Oh, I can tell you only come with chivalry and good intentions. But I must point out that even if I'm just a Baron, 'Balthazar' is among Fontaine's oldest and most noble names. People look up to us even more than the average noble family, including our unions and bonds. So marriage has always been a very tricky thing for us, even with close humans.".

Both of you tensed up, and you had to fight back tears. While there was still a chance, technically, you father was alluding to rejecting this pairing, possibly in favor of another Duke.

This is unfair. This is so unfair, and you never wished to not be a noble until tonight. No, you wished you had no parents, that way you could control your fate a bit more, even if people gave you the side eye. Even by noble standards, he was husband material! You wouldn't have to move a finger as his wife. You'd be touted as important, as 'a lady of justice' since that's what your husband is involved in. But no, your parents just have to shut their eyes and ears and call all the shots in relation to you-

Oh, Focalors, what did I do so wrong for you to let me be born as their daughter? Wouldn't it be better if I were just his prisoner? Even now, a prisoner is more his than me!

BOOM!

A loud sound resonated from one of the gardens. The music's abrupt stop further panicked many people, some leaving the ballroom to see what's going on, others peering over the balconies. Your parents belonged to the first camp. A hand immediately grabbed yours; It was Wriothesley's.

"Quick, we're on limited time!".

You both made a dash for a spare room nearby. He closed the door and finally caught his breath. Before you could ask what he was doing, he lunged to embrace you in his arms, the sheer strength making you gasp.

"Okay, listen. I need to tell you two things, okay? They're very important...".

He stopped to pant again.

"Wriothesley, what's going on?".

"A friend of mine made a diversion to buy us time. I can't say these things in front of your parents.".

You nodded.

"First of all, starting tonight and per usual courtship processes, your parents might be spying on what mail you get, so our communication will be halted if they find out... If they find out what we say to each other. But I have a way to keep it up. Can you stay up for a bit to see it, maybe around 12 or 1 AM?".

"Certainly, certainly! If it helps us keep talking, I will!".

Even with the stress rushing through him, your eagerness brought on a multitude of emotions. Gosh, you were so cute. It wasn't enough for you to be so adorable early on, and his own personal type, was it? Your reaction made it clear that he wasn't the only one feeling this way. He was glad that the first plan would work out.

"Thank you. It's vital if we wish to be together. It doesn't sound like I can hold up to the competition your Father has for me-".

The allusion to him not being enough was the last straw for tonight.

"Don't say that, don't say that again! He doesn't know anything about what makes a good man, alright? He demonstrated that enough tonight! You're worth a million more of these stupid other men, okay?!".

He knew ladies were capable of being angry, but something about seeing it in real life, for the first time, was astounding. And yet deep down, he saw the outburst coming. Between your shaking hands and teary eyes, and how much you had to hide them from your father... His heart broke a little at seeing the love of his life so anguished, her tears dripping down quicker than she could wipe them.

"It's so obvious he doesn't care! He'll gladly excuse poor table manners or slimy behavior in general, but when someone just happens to be a bit different, that's when he says 'no sale' and shuts me up! 'We care about good repute and you', my foot! It's all about his name and what he wants... Why does my say not matter? Why?".

You didn't want Wriothesley to see you in this state so early, but after tonight's tension, you just couldn't. You were so sick of living with your shots being called for you. For so long, life was horribly dull, depressing through the lens of a growing child. When you finally found someone who washed away that grey and exposed you to the color of life, you were told you were forbidden from having it ever again. You had to follow the life script your parents wrote, your happiness be damned.

Your sobs racketed up and down, before quieting when you felt his weight on you; Slowly, warmly and lovingly.

"Star of my life... I'm so sorry for how tonight went. Believe me, I wanted to punch him. I hate how rigid this social code is, even more on you...".

You just realized that this was the first time he touched you beyond holding your hand. When you were young, you imagined your favorite chimney in the house to be the warmest place in the world. Oh how wrong you were, but to be fair, you couldn't have known before he took you in his arms; A fortress and a hearth all at once.

"I'm so sorry... You know, I was about to tell you the second thing, which I believe may help you...".

"What is the second thing?".

He slightly detached himself, though still holding you, to look deep into your eyes and silently swear upon those beautiful orbs: "By the name of Focalors and my own as the Duke of Meropide, you will be mine. We will end up together and you'll forget the names of the other men. Yes, we'll face some hiccups along the way. But in the end, all your other suitors will fall, one way or another. And once that happens, we'll be looming over them, with you in my arms for the rest of our lives.".

"Wriothesley... Forever?".

"Yes. We'll never have to face a dull day again. Forever. Forever, until Fontaine keels over and becomes dust.".

Your breath slowed down. He sounded so serious, and you wanted to believe in it. This man's caliber was an exceptional one, and something told you that once he made a promise, he kept it until he withered.

He leaned in a little and so did you. Your time was probably out, but you'll be damned if you can't enjoy it. You were closer, and closer, taking in his scent of cedar and myrrh until...

"That explosion was scary!"

"Shows you that commoners have no concept of watching over their kids.".

The nobles were slowly filing back into the ballroom. Wriothesley let out a quiet 'Goddamnit!", before looking through the door. Once the camp was clear, you left earlier, armed with the lie he gave you: "Oh, I lost my parents and I was so scared!". Perfect for a fragile, innocent maiden. The party went on, and you started questioning what the new way of communication would look like. The 'spying' aspect brought a bit of amusement to your mood, which you needed.

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

12:49 AM

Wriothesley ended up being right about your parents controlling your mail. One letter from a male classmate ended up opened and half-torn on fear that he was a rival suitor, before they read the hasty message asking you about a homework assignment. You presumed he's seen many courting processes (perhaps wondering when did he get to be the groom?) and understood their workings well.

The letter you were writing was almost complete. You felt a little clearer in the head after venting out on paper, albeit still very sad. Your father really, really wanted to pair you with Duke Archandelle. But Wriothesley was so determined, even risking his friend - and himself, should they snitch him out - to tell you to not lose hope. For now, all you could do is wait for the 'new method of communication'.

In the meantime, you tried to play a little guessing game to keep your mind off of everything, but to no avail. You also wore the wolf bracelet, its sheen reminding you of his piercing eyes and silver tufts. Your thought of train was about to restart until you heard a small bark.

"Huh?".

Save for the security Dobermanns you often have, dogs were not allowed in the manor. Were you perhaps just thinking about your own dog-like lover too much?

"Arf!"

This one was much louder, and on the left side of the table. The source of the barks was an adorable husky puppy, smiling and approaching you. He wore a collar with the Duke's crest on it, and a sort of paper backpack which you presumed had Wriothesley's message for you.

"Awwwww, you're so cute!!".

You weren't often exposed to dogs, but nevertheless you took it in your arms to pet it. His color scheme reminded you so much of Wriothesley, you wondered whether it could be him in his animal form. The collar was double-sided: The back had 'Frosty' written on it in clumsy handwriting that you knew wasn't the Duke's.

"Frosty? Were you sent by Duke Wriothesley of Meropide?".

He barked again, as if confirming your questions. You took out the 'backpack' to find an actual letter, a whistle wrapped up in another note which read:

ABOUT FROSTY

Y/N, excuse my handwriting and format, I'm writing this in a hurry. Before you ask, Sigewinne named the pup. She wanted to name him 'Wriothesley The Second', originally, then settled with 'Frosty' since that was the closest compromise we found. I rescued him from drowning two weeks ago and planned to hand him over to a reputable shelter, until I noticed his smarts. He's delivered my mail efficiently, even if it was his first time going to a new place. He knows where we both live, and answers to the whistle enclosed with him. Use it if you need to send me anything, especially something urgent. You will be my wife soon, so we should get into the habit of good communication. Don't hesitate to tell me anything, especially if it terrifies or excites you. I always have an ear for you.

Wriothesley.

Archons, Wriothesley was so cute. He looked so tough but you could always count on him to decide on such a way. You attached your own letter and pet Frosty one more time before he disappeared into the night.

'You will be my wife soon...' Will I, Wriothesley? Will I really see a day where I'll wake up with you by my side, and not bemoaning my being alive, but thanking my stars for the arrangement?

You two will be together. You weren't sure how many more boring dates you had to go to with Archandelle, but as Agatha told you: All was in due time. It had be a matter of when, not if, the promise was fulfilled and you would no longer belong to your father. Oh, you could hardly wait for that day. For one you'll be wearing the bracelet he gave you. That day would also have sweets, love and definitely not him.

[joesalw]

Hi, I'm an ex swiftie and I have so much to say about taylor swift. I have a lot bottled up inside and this felt like a safe space to get it out. I hope you don't mind.

I feel like taylor as an artist doesn't have an identity of her own anymore.

like billie, lana, sabrina, ariana, beyonce, shakira, britney, avril, olivia they all make a specific type of music. Although many of them have made genre bending music but It's common knowledge that not everything is for everybody. Now this is where miss swift comes in.

she was going great with her first three albums but then the shift from country to pop to alternate to pop again and now whatever the hell the toilet paper department is supposed to be has lost her off the rails. Her albums are more suitable to her boyfriends than herself.

red- jake gyllenhall ( indie record that's much cooler than mine) but red is actually a very cool indie record

1989- calvin harris (or one could say harry styles), he is known for making upbeat electro pop music

folklore, evermore- joe (listening to his interviews and the type of intellectual, introverted personality he has, not to mention he actually worked on the albums himself with her seems like the type of music he would listen to).

and TTPD about matty healy ( which is not the most flattering album)

her dating life isn't about her finding a soulmate or true love. It's about finding a temporary muse. she sticks to them like a leech and sucks until she's done and then moves on to the next victim.

I was actually very excited about midnights because it was painted as her "seizing her own identity" and "returning back to pop" especially with anti hero, lavender haze, mastermind and yoyok I felt like this time it was about her and her demons. not some villain in her life. It felt refreshing after her constantly victimizing herself. I loved the stupid "I'm the problem, its me" thing.

Now, after every breakup, her latest ex boyfriend has to pay the price for breaking poor little taylor's heart. But since she had been with joe the longest and during that long period of her time, she never said anything bad about him, put him up on a pedestal, she was so in love and content that we, the audience who have been with her journey with her numerous boyfriends felt like he was the one. he's the best one. there are no more problems. but then this does not last either. At first neither of them revealed the reason for the breakup. which was fine and it probably should've stayed that way because when taylor started to reveal more about it, that's when things started to go south for her

she tried to paint him as the bad guy. like he was such a terrible boyfriend, he didn't want to marry her because he was depressed boo fucking hoo. being depressed is not as big of a crime as she tried to make. It also doesn't help your image when you confess to emotionally cheating on the alleged love of your life about a fucking nazi.

Miraculously this time taylor didn't get away with it. She didn't get to date the nazi. so she proceeded to throw a tantrum on her latest "masterpiece" about how she hates her fans and she's so miserable and depressed. again boo fucking hoo. dragging old drama with kim and kanye out of which she came out the winner but also dragging their child into this?? (like what did the kid do to you?)

I hate how everyone conveniently forgot that taylor dated connor kennedy when he was still a minor (she was five years older than him) and immediately after his mother died, bought a house in his neighbourhood to get in his circle and crashed his cousin's wedding and when the groom's mother asked her to leave, she ignored her??(what kind of psychopathic behaviour is this?)

Not to mention the lack of support for palestine, after wanting to be on the right side of history, per formative activism, fake feminism, stealing candy from olivia who's like half her age or something, using sabrina to rub salt on her wounds, blocking charlie in the uk charts, and now trying to re-write history like "I wrote folklore and evermore alone on the phone with aaron and jack" Does this woman ever stop?

She lost a lot of respect with that one. The excitement i felt for midnights is gone. she hasn't changed, she will never change. But I'm tired. I can't keep up with her anymore.

Now what's going to happen? I'll tell you what. she and travis will break up and then she's going to drop another "masterpiece" and bitch and moan about how much of a terrible boyfriend her was. And its going to be in the genre that travis likes because taylor doesn't make music about herself, always about her boyfriends. She's not going to grow up. But I have. I can't put up with her anymore.

!!!

[herejusttosufferalong]

(Re: About Joe Alwyn, Similarities with Nic, and Acquaintance with Luke Thompson)

Response to your shock about Ratty Healy : Hahaha as a swiftie myself I SIDE-EYED tay so hard when she had her rebound with him, like gurl he's nasty and disgusting with all of his past troubling behaviors no matter how sweet he might appear to you.

If you wanna know a glimpse of JoeTay relationship, it was officially started in September 2016 and ended in early April 2023.

They first met at Gigi's bday party (April 29th 2016, References: High Infidelity-Midnights, Gorgeous-Reputation, Dress-Reputation), then met gala (May 1st). She previously and was still dating Calvin Harris- long story short he was a D, she wanted to leave him. I didn't know what prevented things to go further between her and Joe but in met gala she also met Tom Hiddleston and danced together. They had a brief getaway car moment or rebound (Getaway car-Reputation), officially known to public from June to September.

Then Joe and Tay started their relationship on September 28th (Ref: September - Cover by TSwift).

2016-2017 was the hell of year for Tay because of the whole Kanye Kim drama and lies. The whole world turned their back on her and she was at the lowest point of her life. She disappeared for a year then came back with a new album Reputation released in 2017.

Albums that give us many insights about her life and love story with Joe are : Reputation 2017, Lover 2019, Folklore 2020, Evermore 2020, Midnights 2022, The Tortured Poets Department: The Anthology 2024.

He had part of writing and producing some songs with Tay in Folklore, Evermore, and Midnights in the pseudonym of William Bowery.

In TTPD, songs about Joe are So long London, I Can Do It With a Broken Heart, loml, The Black Dog, How Did it End, and Peter.

I'm sad when people have to refer Joe only as Taylor Swift's Ex. He's a talented, low profile, and private actor. He's rarely active in SM. (Alwyn keeps his personal life private, which he described as a "knee-jerk response to the culture we live in". GQ labelled Alwyn a "notoriously low-key actor".)

Alongside with Paul Mescal, he is one the male leads of Sally Rooney Novel Adaptations. Paul in Normal People and Joe in Conversation with Friends. (I really would like Nic to have a project with him. Maybe another Sally Rooney adaptation would be great😭 *manifesting*)

Some of his projects are The Favourite (2018), Boy Erased (2018), Mary Queen of Scots (2018), Harriet (2019), The Last Letter from Your Lover (2021), Stars at Noon (2022), Catherine Called Birdy (2022), Conversation with Friends (2022), Kind of Kindness (2024), TBA projects: The Brutalist and Hamlet.

He is also friends with Lukey T. He ever talked about him in interview.

Similar with Nic, he is very vocal about activist/social movements and always stood on the right side of history. Nic came from her background as an Irish people and her late Dad with his humanity and military works to keep peace in middle east. Joe family also has deep connection to activism, particularly in Palestine, his late great uncle is a peace activist and patron of the Palestinian solidarity campaign. And both are private about their personal lives. But Joe is really silent and not chronically online as Nic.

I just love when Nic has so many connections and fully booked. She deserves it. And I would like the same things to happen to Luke too. They both deserve the best to not put their talent in waste. I wish my parents all the best.

DAMN ANON

Are you on his payroll????

No but seriously thank you for sharing 💜

I know nothing about the guy but I have seen multiple movies listed above with him in it

Will have to rewatch and check out some of his other work 🥃

[ghostfacd]

ANYWAY, DON’T BE A STRANGER. — LUKE HUGHES

— “WILL YOU COME VISIT ME EVERY YEAR?” “OF COURSE I’LL VISIT YOU EVERY YEAR!”

pairing; slytherin!luke x hufflepuff!fem!reader

summary; graduation had finally came for you and luke, which meant closing doors and new beginnings. a summer on his lake house should’ve been fun, right?

genre; fluff, angst, hogwarts!au, one mention of sex but no actual smut, lots of crying, mentions of cheating and insecurities, mentions of past luke x kielle, to sum it all up, ynluke deserves better 🤲

author’s note; im gonna apologize in advance bc this one is gonna HURT.

✸ SLYTHERIN!LUKE MASTERLIST

The day of Grad had finally came. You knew everybody in your year was excited, having spent 7 years at Hogwarts and were ready to move on.

“You look so pretty!” Kielle says as she enters your room, her voice buzzing with joy. She had her graduation gown and cap on, her makeup looked amazing.

“Have you seen yourself Ms. Kiels?”

“Oh stop it,”

You had put your phone on Do Not Disturb, not wanting anything or anyone to interrupt your getting ready process. You had to look perfect, this was the last time you were going to be at Hogwarts.

“Babe, I’ve been calling you.” Mark enters your room along with Luke, who looks absolutely entranced by you.

“Sorry Marky, you know I don’t like distractions when I’m getting ready.”

Over the past year, you and Luke’s relationship had grown greatly, and so has Mark’s and Kielle’s. You four were no longer immature teenagers who couldn’t handle criticism, but now newly blossomed adults.

“Are you guys ready?” Luke comes up from behind you, pulling you into a small back hug.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

When Professor McGonagall all called you up to receive your diploma, you could’ve swore you were gonna breakdown right then and there.

You couldn’t believe you were actually graduating from the one place you had called home to for 7 years.

When you turn around to hug Kielle, you could see tears filling her eyes, something that quickly brought tears to your eyes as well.

Man, you hated this part of graduating. The goodbyes, the crying, and the reminiscing.

“Hey, don’t cry,” Mark says as he takes Kielle away from your arms. She sobs into his shoulders, and Luke is quick to pull you into his arms.

“You okay lovie?” He asks, eyes searching yours for any sign of crying.

“I’m okay Lukey,” you turn around to give him a tight hug.

“Guys! Don’t be so sad!” Luke says when you pull away, arms wrapping themselves around his two best friends, “we four are spending the entire summer together, so quit the crying, alright? You’re gonna make me cry,”

Kielle wipes her tears, giggling at Luke’s words. Him, crying? Never in a million years.

The only time Luke has ever cried was when you two were broken up and he had regretted ever making that decision.

You all waved a final goodbye to your classmates, knowing in the future, you might run into them in the grocery stores with their own families and greet them and laugh back on the days spent at Hogwarts.

Luke even gave a small hug to Teddy Wellings, a boy who had been his partner in Potions prior and whom Luke had scared the complete shit out of.

“Good luck out there Wellings,” Luke says as he gives the boy a small grin.

“Wow, I never thought you would smile at me,” Teddy jokes, “but thank you Luke. My favorite Potions partner.”

“I was your only partner,”

“It’s the thought that counts!”

You silently make your way over to Evermore, one of the first girls you had ever befriended at Hogwarts.

“Hey Morie,” you say, slinging your arms around her shoulders.

She quickly turns around, giving you the brightest smile ever. “YNNN!”

“The one and only,”

She pulls you into a tight hug, chin on your shoulders as she rubs your back in a comforting motion.

“Thank you Morie.”

“For what?”

“For dragging me to the Quidditch match that one day. If it weren’t for you, I would’ve never had the courage to approach Luke, and we probably would’ve never dated.”

Evermore laughs, wiping away a few tears that had came down her cheeks. “Well I’m glad that Luke has such a wonderful and caring girlfriend like you, and I’m grateful that we became friends, YN. You’re always welcome into my life anytime, okay?”

Her words make you let out a sob, nodding as you two hug each other even more tightly.

“Alright, are we ready to go?” Kielle appears from behind you, giving you and Evermore a small smile.

“Yeah, I’m ready,” you give one more hug to Evermore, intertwining your hands with hers one last time before you leave. “I’ll miss you Morie.”

“I’m always just one call away Y/nie,”

- -

You all decided to spend the summer at Luke’s lake house. His brothers weren’t home the entire summer—Jack being with his girlfriend while Quinn was overseas. It was a perfect getaway.

“Hi darling,” Luke takes a seat next to you on the dock, admiring how pretty you looked with your sunkissed skin.

“Lukey,” you pull him into a small hug, one that he doesn’t pull away from until minutes after. He loved being with you in the sun, it was warm and made him feel a million times better just being by your side.

“Cannonball!” The loud voice of Mark runs throughout the entire house. You and Luke quickly part away to make space for the running boy, who, annoyingly so, cannonballs in the water, splashing you and Luke with a bunch of water.

“Mark I’m so gonna kill you!” Luke screams jokingly through soaked eyes.

“Uh huh, come join me in the water Lukey boy, it’s cold!”

You see your boyfriend roll your eyes, but extends his hand towards you so both of you can take a dip in the lake.

“Where’s Kiels?” You ask, wondering where the blonde girl was.

“She’s making BBQ for us right now! Said she didn’t want to get her lash extensions wet, whatever that means.”

Luke and Mark start splashing water on each other, making you laugh silently. Suddenly, Luke gets out of the water, shaking his body of the remaining droplets.

“I’ll be right back,” he says to you and Mark. “Mark, don’t drown my girl.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it Hughes!”

It’s about twenty minutes later when you realize that your boyfriend isn’t back yet. Confused, you dry yourself with a towel before making your way to the backyard, where Kielle was grilling the marinated meats.

“I don’t know Kielle,” you hear Luke say in a hushed tone.

“Lu, you’re gonna have to tell her sooner or later,” Kielle sighs, turning around to place a hand on Luke’s shoulder. “The more you drag it on, the harder it’ll be.”

Your eyebrows furrow. What were they talking about? Was Luke cheating on you?

It couldn’t be. Kielle loved Mark too much to do that—and you know Luke would never do that to you. But the words that came out both of their mouths said something different.

It didn’t help that Luke and Kielle had kissed once at a party during your sixth year at Hogwarts.

You walk quietly back to the dock, not wanting Luke and Kielle to have seen you. Your head was filled with questions that made it difficult for you to think properly.

“Hey, you okay?” Mark leans his chin against the dock, looking up at you. “Did you find Luke?”

“Yep,” you mumble underneath your breath.

Mark raises his eyebrows, but doesn’t further question. He pulls himself out of the lake, “cmon YN, let’s get to eating!”

The lunch was pretty awkward for you, since everybody else was talking while you were sitting in silence. Luke, being the observant boyfriend he is, notices your discomfort and intertwines his hands with yours.

You should feel comforted—you should feel better now that you were holding his hand, but were you the only one that had the privilege of doing so? Or was Kielle another person that also had those rights?

It wasn’t until the sun set and the sky was dark that you and Luke were able to get some alone time at the lake. Mark and Kielle had practically kicked you both out of Luke’s own house, but they said it would only be for an hour.

“They’re totally banging,” Luke says, a grin plastered over his face. If you weren’t so insecure, you would’ve laughed along, but instead you chose to stay silent.

Luke’s smile quickly disappears when he sees this, and he pulls you into a side hug, your bodies now touching. “What’s wrong lovie?”

“Are you cheating on me?”

Those five words make Luke choke, eyes widened and face flushed. “What?!”

“Luke Warren Hughes, are you cheating on me?”

“Of course not!” Luke stands up, flabbergasted at such an accusing question from you, “why—why would you even think that YN?”

“Because I heard you and Kielle talking about how you had to tell me something! I don’t know Luke—you guys are pretty close.”

“Yeah that’s because she’s like my best friend since first year,” Luke brings his hand to his hair, ruffling it in distress. “No YN, I’m not cheating on you.”

“Then what was it that you were gonna tell me that was so hard to say?”

Luke sighs, eyes looking directly into yours. “YN, I’m moving to Michigan.”

You could’ve swore your eyes popped out of your sockets in this very moment.

“Michigan? Why?”

“Well, when we were in our fall semester of our last year, I decided to apply to some muggle universities. I looked at UMich, and I really liked it YN. I want to do something with my life outside of Quidditch. They have this hockey program that is just amazing. So I applied and I got my congratulatory letter back in January. I’m sorry.”

It feels like your brain completely halts, forgetting how to speak or think.

“Lovie, please say something.”

“I don’t know what to say Lu,” your legs almsot give out onto the dock if it weren’t for Luke catching you and gently sitting you down. Even at times like this, Luke always knew how to take care of you. “I’m proud of you—I am. I just always thought we would go to uni in England, you know? Michigan is so far.”

“I know lovie,” Luke places a few strands of your hair that had gotten in the way behind your ear, “but Umich is a great place. I think I’d really fit in.”

Of course you couldn’t ask Luke to stay in London with you. That would be selfish. Your boyfriend seemed so passionate about going to Michigan that if you had cried at this very moment, you would feel incredible guilt.

“That’s great Lu, that’s great.”

Luke sighs as he watches you fall apart in his arms. Instead of talking more, he decides to rub your back comfortingly, placing tiny kisses on your tanned shoulders.

“We can do long distance can’t we Lu?”

Luke places his hand under your chin, making you look up at him. The sad look on his face already telling you what you didn’t want to hear.

“Lovie. I thought about this for a while, ever since I got my acceptance letter. I love you YN, don’t you ever doubt that, but I think it would be unfair for the both of us to do long distance when our time zones are so different and we have so much going on in our lives,”

You shake your head quickly, your tears making your vision too blurry to even look at Luke clearly. “No Lu, I’m willing to do whatever—”

“But I’m not,” Luke holds the both of your hands in his, eyes glossy and red. “Lovie, I can’t keep the promise that I will have time for you when I go to Umich. I’ll be so busy with hockey and studies and with our time zones, we wouldn’t even be able to call properly. I just can’t have anyone holding me back, and I most certainly don’t want to hold you back either. There’s just no way that I’ll end up being with you.”

“Is this what this is all about?” You scoff, wiping away your tears furiously. “You think I’m going to hold you back Luke?”

“It just wouldn’t work—”

“No Luke, it’s fine.” You pull away from his arms, now standing up. “You’re right. You’re completely right. This long distance thing will just fuck us up in the future, so we might as well end it now right?”

Luke gulps, not expecting you to be so upset with him. This was the last thing he wanted.

“YN,” he practically begs. “Please don’t make this harder than it already is.”

“I won’t Luke,” you sigh, “I guess we’re over then. Thank you for everything.”

You walk away that night with your heart broken and tears streaming out of your eyes. This night was the final day before summer was over, and while your original plans were to spend the entire night with Luke by your side, you ended up sleeping in the guest room of his house.

Mark and Kielle were painfully aware of the tension in the room the next day. Both not wanting to add fuel to the fire, Mark decides to take Luke out swimming to calm his nerves while Kielle stayed with you and made fruits for the both of you.

“I take it that he told you he’s going to Umich.” She says, handing you a bowl of cut watermelon.

“Yeah, yesterday night.” You take a bite, too upset to properly enjoy the sweetness of the fruit. “I feel bad, you know? I’m proud of him for getting in—it’s just, I thought we would spend our lives in London together. I never thought he’d go off to the States and we’d break up.”

“I know honey,” Kielle pulls you into her arms, letting your tears soak onto her top. “If it makes you feel better, Umich didn’t only take Luke, but they also took Mark.”

“No way,” you say, “Mark got in too?”

“Yup, our boys are gonna be playing hockey together.”

You wince at her mention of “our boys”, knowing that Luke was no longer yours.

“Oh I’m sorry YN, I mean Luke and Mark are gonna be playing together.”

“It’s fine Kiels,” you reassure her. The bowl of fruits seemed to be more interesting to you than anything else in the world right now. You just wanted to go home and cry it all out.

“I’ll still be in London,” Kielle speaks up after a while. “You’ve still got me,”

You give her a small smile, nodding slowly.

Curse you Michigan, for taking my boyfriend.

- -

The day for Mark’s and Luke’s departure had come quicker than ever, the two boys now standing outside the gate to board for Michigan.

Even though you and Luke were now exes, you couldn’t miss the chance to say your final goodbye to him. If you had stayed home, you knew you would’ve regretted it for the rest of your life.

“Flight 380 now boarding,” the microphone says. “Flight 380.”

It was Luke’s flight. You had memorized the number when Kielle first mentioned it after your breakup with him.

“Hey,” you say as you approach Luke, who’s currently rechecking all his luggage.

“Hey.”

The silence between the two of you is awkward, and filled with so much longing. But neither of you are able to speak up, too afraid to do so.

“I’ll miss you, you know?”

Luke cracks a smile at that, his eyes sad. “I’ll miss you too lovie.”

You swore you almost cried when he had used the pet name that he’s been calling you since the beginning of your relationship.

“Will you come visit me every year?”

“Of course I’ll come visit you every year,”

You couldn’t help but pull the taller boy into a tight hug, not wanting to ever let go. You let your arms wrap themselves tightly around his waist as you bury your head into his chest.

“Don’t be a stranger, alright?” You say, tears rolling down your cheeks.

“How could I ever be?” He sniffles, laughing slightly.

“Alright Luke, we have to head on now,” Mark says, slightly pulling the boy back.

Luke gives you one final smile before leaving, but your eyes never leave him. Not until the gates are fully closed, and the loss of Luke’s presence starts to hit you.

“It’s okay,” Kielle comforts you as the both of you make your way back to her car. “I’ve got you.”

[steppin-on-the-last-train]

cowboy like me

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: As a part-time criminal and a full-time escape artist your first priority was always to keep people at arm's length. When you meet someone who also knows what it's like to live from day to day, you're not so sure you want to let her slip away.

Foreword: Title taken from the Taylor Swift song cause it’s evermore season y’all

The first time you met the Black Widow was aboard a train heading south toward London. 

You sat, facing the window and watching the people mill about the terminal outside. Your cheeks were still red and wind bitten from your commute to the station. The car was almost full now, most everyone dressed in Manchester United jerseys and hats and the like. You blended in just fine among them. Another fan headed home after the match with a scarf and an old pair of trainers. 

You rehashed the details of your current mark in your head like a mantra. Jameson Harris. 42 Malcolm Rd. Wife was Anna Harris. Two children, Marcus and Emily. 

“All aboard. The 5:00 train from Manchester to London is off in three minutes,” the conductor announced from a speaker overhead. You could barely hear it over the excitement of the crowd. A little boy ran screaming down the aisle, his mother giving a futile chase. 

In the set of seats facing you two men about your age sat down. They were clearly drunk, laughing like hyenas and shoving each other in a manner that bordered on real anger. At least one of them smelled like heavy smoke.

“Hey, mate,” the tall, lanky one with a bad neck tattoo waved at you. “How about that game, eh?” 

You grinned widely as if you had one too many drinks coursing through your veins. “Fucking wild.” You stumbled over the words as if your tongue didn’t sit correctly in your mouth. “Best match of the season, if you ask me.” 

The other guy, fitter and dark-haired took out a lighter and a cigarette. He lit it and pulled a huge drag. The exhaled smoke blew right into the face of a passing attendant. 

She coughed stiffly into her hand. “Sir, there is no smoking allowed onboard. I am going to have to ask you to step out or please put it out.”

“Are you talking to me, sweetheart?” You averted your gaze, scrolling mindlessly through the contacts in your phone. If the woman was looking for a hero, you were a false beacon of hope. 

“Yes. Now, please. There is truly no smoking allowed in the car.” The acrid stench of nicotine once more assaulted everyone misfortunate enough to be in the general vicinity.

The man took a deep breath and stood. Elaborately he stubbed the cigarette out on the back of his seat, little bits of ash flaking into the air. The attendant moved on and he dropped back into the chair. “Fucking cunt,” he swore loud enough to cut through the din. 

You closed your eyes to shut out the cloudy winter light intent on piercing your retinas and the jerky movements of the other passengers, high off the energy from the match. You swore you would take a break after this job. You had made that exact same promise to yourself last week in Bogota, and the time before in Cairo. No, you wouldn’t stop. Just as relentless as the blood rushing through your veins, stopping would be tantamount to death.

“Excuse me.” A voice caused your train of thought to come to a screeching halt. Innocence dripped from the words like honey, and you could tell the woman’s voice was pitched up from her normal tone. “Is anyone sitting here?” A slender hand gestured at the seat next to yours. 

You pushed yourself up from the slouch you had been lounging in, feeling self-conscious. “No. Go right ahead,” you answered, cockney accent shining right through. She was pretty, you noted; about your age as well. A hitch tugged at the back of your brain. An evolutionary alarm from living your entire life on the move. This woman was not to be trusted. Underneath the wide eyes and the girlish smile was a viper coiled to strike. 

“Thank you,” she said, looking quite small against the backdrop of the raucous train car.

A wolf whistle pierced the air, looking for trouble. The bloke who had been smoking flashed a predator’s grin at the blonde beside you. “Where are you traveling to all alone now, girlie?” 

You watched the exchange from the corner of your eye. Why did conflict seem to follow wherever you stepped foot? The woman merely glanced up from her book, unwilling to feed the fire. 

“Oi. Why don’t you go ahead and look at me when I’m talking to you? I know you can hear me.” The train had begun to depart, ushering in a wave of quiet to the car as passengers settled down. The demand was impossible to ignore. Even as parents hushed children and drunkards passed out in increasing numbers, his voice only gained intensity. 

“This train is headed for London, is it not?” She asked, face as innocent as a blank sheet of paper. 

“Hey Jack. She’s a witty one,” he said, slapping his friend on the chest. The woman flicked her gaze at you. Your attention wandered to her like a moth to a flame. You stomped down on any inclination to help her. You weren’t going to lose this game of chicken.

“Sweetheart.” The man so called Jack joined in the instigating. “How about you come home with us, eh? I’ve got a real nice flat. I bet you’d like the bedroom.”

“No, I’ve got a better idea. Why don’t you come with me to the bathroom right now?” The dark-haired one surged forward, grimy hand outstretched toward the woman. Caution gone with the wind, your arm darted out on its own accord. You intercepted his wrist, tugging harshly enough for him to stumble closer to you. 

The blonde’s eyes widened and she shrank in on herself in her seat. You saw right through the act. An elderly man with a newsboy cap across the aisle watched the altercation like a deer caught in headlights. You prayed he wouldn’t call for help.

The entire damn point was to not draw attention to yourself. Today though, electricity charged the air with biting energy. The presence of the mystery-shrouded person beside you drove you past the gates of reason. 

You squeezed the man’s pinky until you heard the crunch of bone pushed too far. He screeched like a cat. “Go and find yourself another seat. I don’t care if the car is full. You’ll throw yourself out the rear if you have to. Don’t let me see your fucking face again,” you whispered in his ear. The words leapt flaming from your tongue.

Eyes wild with adrenaline and the courage of alcohol, he swung at you with his free fist. You caught the clumsy punch, seized the man by the wrist, and snapped it clean. He screamed, turning the heads of the other passengers. Your gaze swept like a searchlight through the crowd, promising more hurt to anyone who might even think about interfering. 

He crashed back into his friend’s lap before staggering to his feet. His sniffles and shuffling footsteps echoed through the silent traincar. “Go on,” you directed his buddy, who wasted no time before similarly scrambling from his seat. A final burst of dauntlessness flared up your throat. “What the fuck are you all staring at me for?” You broadcasted to the intrigued onlookers.

Half of these people weren’t sober enough to remember this in the morning. For those who did, you would be a completely different person the second you stepped foot off this godforsaken vehicle. 

“Thank you,” the woman said, sickly sweet.

“Don’t mention it.” You admitted beating up assholes wasn’t an entirely cumbersome task.

“I feel obliged now to ask what your name is,” she continued.

You raised your eyebrows, turning in her direction. “What about stranger danger? How do you know I didn’t just stop them so I could be alone with you?”

“How do you know I needed your help?” She batted the question back at you.

“Touche.” You knew she didn’t. But she had indeed wanted to keep her cards close to her chest at the expense of you revealing yours. You offered a hand. “I’m Sam.”

“Nadia,” she replied, conceding the handshake. Her palms and fingers were lined with ridges of calluses. 

“That’s a pretty name.” But not one that belonged to her, you thought.

She was so close now. The setting sunlight streamed through the window and coaxed the vibrance from the green of her irises. You stopped yourself from lingering there too long. You imagined all the people who had lost to her siren’s call before.

You cleared your throat and broke off the staring match. “Can I ask what you’re doing in England? Excuse me assuming that you’re not from around here.” If she wanted to play this game, you didn’t see the harm in joining in. 

“I’m visiting a friend.” Her American accent drew attention. Odd for a thief or a spy or whoever she was to forgo language assimilation. “What about you, Sam? Did you grow up here?” 

“I did. Never been out of the country meself.” Lies to you, but truths for Sam the football fan.

“Got anyone special at home?” She smirked, looking up at you from a downturned face.

You scoffed. She was messing with you. “No. Not for me. I like to keep available. You never know when an opportunity might come around. I’m not usually one to let a good thing pass me by.”

“And what makes a special opportunity? How do you know one when you see it?” How fitting that smoke still lingered in the air. 

“I guess,” you started slowly. “Some people just have this spark about them.” 

She wet her lips. “Do you think I have it?” If some people sparked with electricity, she certainly blazed with the sun’s heat. 

The corner of your mouth lifted in a smile. You rolled your eyes with playful mirth. That was all the answer she needed.

Good thing as soon as the train pulled into the station in London you would get your ass as far away from her as possible. And with any luck, as the moon eclipses the sun your paths would cease to cross for a very long time.

—

Prime Minister Jameson Harris had an expensive taste in liquor. You were alone in his house, save for a half dozen security agents scattered about various entryways. Tonight you doubled as the man himself while he and his family had been whisked away to another secure location. You owed a friend in MI6 a favor, so you played the sitting duck amidst rumors of an assassination plot. Just another average night.

You snagged a crystal bottle of mystery alcohol from the shelf. Twisting the cork off with a pop you smelled it experimentally before taking a swig straight from the jug. Mister Harris had a fine taste in whiskey indeed. You rounded a giant mahogany table and sat, polished leather squeaking in protest. 

The study lights weren’t overwhelming thanks to the dimmers you had spent way too long fiddling with. In addition you had lit a couple of candles. The room had smelled too much like mothballs and stale paper for your taste.

You raised the whiskey bottle in a toast to an imaginary gathering. “Long live the United Kingdom. To the prosperity of humankind. May all mutant scum drop dead,” you pronounced with the fanfare of a juvenile king. No one had stuck around to tell you your birthday, but you still had a good year or two before you were of drinking age. That much at least, you knew.

You didn’t follow politics, not keen on allying yourself with a particular nation, but the anti-mutant sentiment reached you anyhow. Hate and fear for you and your kind served as a rallying point for human leaders. They ceased pointing their guns at each other and instead set their targets on you. 

Bottle in hand, you stood abruptly and turned toward the giant bookshelf behind you. Classic novels, history collections, and political theory publications lined the entire wall. You traced your fingers down their spines. You had to stay the night here, but thought it may be wiser to resist the call of sleep lest you don’t wake in the morning. 

You pulled a relatively thin volume down. Between the stealing and fleeing and occasional strong-arming you didn’t have a lot of time to read. Tonight, you could start playing catch up with The Scarlet Letter. 

You meandered back toward the desk. Glancing up, a cool breeze rushed at you from an open window. Your stomach dropped, heavy with an iron pit. The curtains flapped in the wind, taunting you for letting your guard down.

You set the whiskey and the book down on the desk and instead wrapped your hand around the slick steel of a pistol hidden beneath. “Show yourself,” you called in the voice of Jameson Harris. “Don’t think I won’t shoot you for breaking and entering.” 

The study was by no means cramped for room, but even still there were few places to hide. You cleared the room in less than a second before realizing the door was ajar too. 

You stalked out into the hall, only to find a guard passed out on the floor. You dug your fingers into your temple. Someone was clearly amusing themselves with the game they were playing. Even so, a chill ran down your spine. You weren’t used to being the rat in the maze in these situations. 

Outside the study, the rest of the house was blanketed in darkness. For you, the absence of light made no difference. You could see just fine with the barest hint of sunshine. From above the bannister, you peered down the sight of the gun at the foyer. The ground floor lay still, as if holding its breath. The security guard posted at the front door sat slumped against the wall. You couldn’t tell if the dark spot pooling beneath his body was born of shadow or something much more sinister. 

A cold hand on your shoulder jolted you from your search. Before you could turn around, meticulously sharpened steel carved a grinning line across your throat. You clamped a hand around the wound, panic fluttering in your chest like a trapped canary. From the corner of your warping vision you saw a figure, wrapped in a shawl of shadows. The light from their eyes waited eagerly for the one in yours to wink out.

You stumbled, choking on your own blood. Pink froth bubbled from your mouth, burning with the chase of death. Your attention slipped and you shifted from the body of Jameson Harris and back into yourself. Well, almost. What you imagined you might look like without the lizard eyes and cobalt blue skin of a freak. 

Beneath your palm your skin grew unnaturally warm. The waterfall of blood ceased its torrential flow. Slowly your skin sewed itself back together. You sighed in relief. You knew you could heal, but had never tested your powers to this extreme.

Behind you a voice muttered in Russian, “What the fuck?” 

You stood straight up, flicking blood absentmindedly from your hand. Surprise gripped your heart. Standing in the corner, as still as a statue was the girl from the train that had brought you here. Nadia no longer looked the picturesque part of a wonderstruck American teenager visiting London. Blonde hair, that you now decided had definitely been dyed, lay neatly down her back in an intricate braid. She wore a black form-fitting tactical suit. Not military issued, you thought. 

You blinked and found yourself staring down the muzzle of a pistol. You raised your hands in surrender, assuming the form you had been posing as on the train. A familiar rush raced from the top of your head to the ends of your limbs as your skin reformed itself. “Remember me?” You asked, spitting out a glob of blood and exposing red-stained teeth.

She cocked her head ever so slightly and just a moment of opportunity presented itself. You lunged for the gun while she grappled with the fact you’d been three completely different people in less than a minute. You let yourself shift back to your common appearance and vaulted across the floor. Muscles wound tight, you straightened your torso and kicked at the weapon.

Snapping back to reality she snatched the gun away just in time. You stood before she could re-aim and cut at her wrist. The gun clattered to the floor and you kicked it further down the hall. 

You craned your head to avoid a viscous elbow to the nose. Sweat began to build along your hairline and drip down the back of your neck. You didn’t fight often, preferring to run into the foliage rather than confront the enemy and run the risk of being caught. You missed the rush.

She fought like a dancer. Momentum built from a lunge forward charged a stinging jab at your ribs. You pushed her two steps back and she went for a low sweep at your legs. You moved so fast you could hear the rush of cloth through the air, the sound of a fist soaring at your gut. A knife appeared in her hand, opening a surgical gash along the length of your tricep. 

Hot blood ran down your arm. You weren’t sure what the limit of your healing factor was, but as the cut refused to close, you realized you might have spent it for tonight. 

Your heart thundered in your chest. You couldn’t lose, no doubt that if she caught you she wouldn’t hesitate to snap your neck and unload an entire round into your head, just in case. But you had to think five steps ahead even as a boot came flying hairwidths from your face and lightning fast slashes struck at any spot you left unprotected. 

She flipped herself and suddenly you were flat on your back, staring up at the ceiling. You pulled air back into your spent lungs, gasping as your fingers dug into the floorboards. From the corner of your vision you saw her bolt for the discarded gun. Panic flared through you and you sprung yourself up, tackling her off course.

The both of you crashed through the bannister and went soaring onto the ground floor. She managed to maneuver herself midair so that she would land on top of you. The impact shot up the knobs of your spine, your head whipping painfully against the cool floor. Her shoulder dug into your collarbone, breaths coming in steady little exhales. You lost your focus for a split second, the pain radiating from the back of your skull overwhelming everything else. 

Involuntarily you transformed into your natural appearance, attention split in so many ways you couldn’t hold onto maintaining your looks. You grit your teeth and shoved the woman off of you with all the strength you could muster, which admittedly beat the strongest of humans even on your worst days. She flew back and smashed into a side table, residing lamp tumbling down and shattering on the floor. 

You hurdled over the staircase railing at the halfway point and cleared the rest of the steps in one bound. You normalized your complexion, hoping the dark had shielded you from her seeing the momentary exposure. 

You scooped a gun up from the ground and whipped around, catching her at the top of the staircase. Strangling the grip, you tensed the muscles in your forearms and leveled it at her chest.

“Where’s Harris?” She asked, voice as harsh as the blade caught in her fist, still drip, drip, dripping with your blood. 

“A safe place. Somewhere far away from pretty women with sharp objects.” Your pointer finger ghosted over the trigger. A voice in the back of your mind urged you to pull it. Return the favor.

She arched one eyebrow. “You think I’m pretty?”

“I think you’re good.” You’d never tell her, but even with your enhanced strength and agility she’d had you on the ropes the entire fight. If you had so much as breathed differently you were sure the roles would be reversed right now. 

“But not good enough for you,” she finished. Even as she bowed completely at your mercy her expression gave nothing away. A long time ago, you thought, she sculpted her face from marble, and the mask had been cemented in place since.

You lowered the gun. You weren’t a killer anyhow.

Blood crusted under your fingernails and in the lines of your palms, your shirt was starting to stick to your skin. You slid it over your head and tossed it on the floor, well aware of the woman’s lingering gaze. 

You turned your back on her and strode into the bedroom, stealing a new shirt before locking yourself in the bathroom.

With a sigh you stopped holding a normal appearance and shifted back into your innate form. Staying in shape had become easier as you’d grown and fully navigated your powers but the process still ate up much of your concentration. Exhaustion slogged endlessly at your mind. 

You eyed your arm which had thankfully stopped actively bleeding, but the flesh still gaped open in a deep red valley. You pulled all the cabinets open, coming up with a roll of gauze and a bottle of rubbing alcohol. Catching your lip between your teeth you washed the stinging wound, a hiss escaping as you flushed it out. You wrapped the bandage tight around your arm, ripping the extra with your teeth.

Methodically you cleaned yourself up. Filling your mouth with cold water from the tap, the sour coppery taste flushed away from your tongue. Then you scrubbed at your face, neck, and chest, trying hard to ignore the blue ridged flesh of an aberration. As the adrenaline started to drain from your system, the realization that death had been seconds away from stealing your life weighed on your mind like a wet blanket. 

You scrubbed harshly at your hands until the water ran clear and then some. Staring at your reflection you slowly recomposed yourself. Freakishly red hair gave way to a more muted color, the yellow in your eyes faded to white, and bit by bit, the blue scales that cursed you with this power overturned into ordinary skin.

You curled your lips into a careless grin lined with a protective amount of cockiness. The great Mystique smiled back at you.

There you are, you thought.

The first time you had ever lied you were small and alone and desperately hungry for food. You had stolen a loaf of bread from a baker’s cart and bolted around a corner before shifting into someone else. When the seller asked you if you had seen a child run off, you looked him in the eye and told him no. 

You weren’t sure how that one little lie had consumed you until there was no you left. Every morning you woke up and put on a charming show at the cost of further warping the person you ought to be. You’d die in your castle of lies, alone and bitter. 

You walked back out into the hall, finding your attacker right where you left her. She stared down at the pool of blood staining the wood floor as if maybe she had imagined the entire ordeal.

“Unfortunately for you, I am still here,” you said. Unease churned in your stomach. Perhaps she was simply lying in wait, like a predator crouching in the tall yellow grass. “Made quite the mess though, don’t you think? The Prime Minister might have to look at new flooring.” You cringed as you stepped over the dark, coppery smelling spot. The warm light from the study spilled out into the hall. You walked into it, boldly turning your back on the woman. “Come on. I know you have questions.”

You leaned against the desk, next to a little bobble head of a dog. She walked in a few moments later, looking infinitely more at ease than she had in the hall. The knife had disappeared from her grasp. You saw right through the veil, having constructed a similar one in the privacy of the bathroom. 

“So you’re not Jameson Harris, and you’re not Sam from London’s east end.” You shook your head, flicking at the toy. “Then who are you?” She stopped a respectable distance away, standing with her shoulders back and chin high.

You told her your name. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d done that truthfully. Yet this stranger managed to coax it out of you with one question. Faith was a funny thing. “And you?” You asked, tracing the curve of her jaw with your eyes.

“Romanova. Natalia.” She told you so almost robotically, as if the name was reserved for other people to use against her. As if she did not have the right to define herself.

“Nice to meet you, Natalia.” You took another sip of the whiskey before offering her the bottle. She eyed it suspiciously. “It’s not poisoned, I promise. It’ll get you damn drunk though.”

She took the bottle, fingers brushing yours momentarily. “I prefer vodka,” she said, drinking as if she’d been denied water for the past week. She passed it back, staring at you as if searching for something. “How?” She asked, your expression denying her any plausible answer.

“How what?” You asked, failing to suppress a growing smirk.

“The disguises.” The firm line of her lips told you she wasn’t entertained by your antics. “You’re wearing some kind of suit, are you not?” You could imagine the gears turning in her head, trying to explain the impossible.  

You slid yourself back until you sat fully on the desktop. “Nope. Fanciest piece of technology I own is a little flip phone,” you said, tracing the smooth lip of the desk with your fingertips. “And I don’t wear tacky suits.” 

“I’m offended,” she said lowly, not sounding the slightest bit bothered.

“Don’t be. The whole dark assassin thing suits you,” you said, waving your hand. “Not me though. I mean, could you imagine me in a skin tight suit?” 

“I wouldn’t sell yourself short. I think you could pull it off.” She raked her gaze over you and heat rose to your cheeks. 

You transformed into an exact copy of her, inspecting your hands in wonder as if she wasn’t standing an arm’s length away. “You’re right,” you said in her voice. “I do look good.” You threw a toothy grin her way before shifting back with a woosh. 

Realization dawned on her, green eyes brightening. “You’re one of them,” she said.

“Yep.” You swirled the alcohol around, watching how the light played off the bottle. “One of them.”

“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just I’ve never—I’ve never met a mutant before.” She seemed awestruck at the revelation. You were so used to being met with fear and disgust. 

“I’m sure you have. Especially with all of the traveling you do,” you said. You remembered the window, still propped open from earlier. “Those of us that can try to blend in with everyone else. Take any street in a big city, for example. If you walked around for a little I guarantee you’d pass at least one of us.” You gazed up at the night sky, dotted with a billion brilliant stars. The estate sat well removed from the city and its hungry lights. “Most of us learned pretty quickly how to adapt, how to stay safe and hidden in the crowd,” you explained. 

“And those of you who can’t?” You looked over your shoulder at Natalia, so curious yet so far from innocent herself. 

“We go underground to survive. Or run the risk of being killed, or worse.” You’d heard the rumors. Missing mutants spawned stories. Stories of various governments and other organizations abducting your kind for experimentation. A shiver crawled down your spine.

“Sounds like a lonely way to live.”

You slammed the window shut with more force than necessary. “Takes one to know one.” You guessed people in her life were nothing more than fleeting moments either. “My turn,” you said. “What’s got you sneaking around in the middle of the night, attempting murder on the British prime minister?” 

“That’s none of your business,” she said as if speaking to a child. She took another long drink, fingers twitching at her side as a nervous tic. “What’s got you sitting in his house playing body double?” Her voice had taken on a defensive edge.

“A friend,” you replied smoothly. “And money, of course. Turns out protecting politicians pays almost as well as stealing from them.” 

“Well I’m not a sellout.”

You narrowed your gaze. “No, you just slit throats because you’re told to, then.” Natalia furrowed her brow. “Unless you’re telling me you got bored and picked up a new hobby.” She stayed quiet, your words seemingly falling on deaf ears. “What?” You asked. Her lips were slightly parted. She stalked closer, eyes flickering over your face. “Hey, hey,” you stuttered, tripping over your feet as you backpedaled. 

You huffed as you slammed into the wall. She reached out, so close now you could feel her breath on your face. You froze, heart thundering in your chest. She cupped your cheek tenderly, thumb brushing your flaming skin. 

“Your eye,” she whispered as if it were something holy. 

You blinked, taken aback. “What?”

“It’s yellow. They weren’t different colors before.”

You broke out of her hold, forcing yourself not to run to the mirror on the wall. The frame was a golden oval, hung in between a family portrait and a pair of framed university degrees. Sure enough your right eye had slipped back. You blinked and it fixed itself, but the damage was done. 

“I should go,” you muttered, staring at the floor and beelining for the door. Too much alcohol and too little sleep and this was what you wound up with. 

Natalia snagged your wrist and held you from taking off. You knew if you pulled away she’d let you go. You untensed the muscles in your back and let her spin you around. 

You tilted your head down and met her in a slow kiss. She had you hooked and you didn’t care. You couldn’t think straight, the taste of her lips clouded your head like a powerful drug. 

You threaded your fingers through her hair and undid her braid while her hand wandered down to your belt. You pulled back, breathless. “I’m not looking for nothing here,” you insisted, even if only to try to convince yourself.

“Me neither,” she agreed. “One night.” She kissed your neck and a low grunt wound its way up from the back of your throat. “You’ll never have to see me again.”

You didn’t know why a pang wracked your chest still her words. That was the plan, after all. You knew you weren’t cut out for more than tonight. And with the way Natalia dragged her nails down your back, you guessed she wasn’t either.

“Bedroom,” you demanded, stepping out of your pants that now lay pooled around your ankles. You stumbled down the hall, blinded by her body as she lost her suit, and deafened by the way she panted your name between desperate kisses.

God, you were screwed.

—

You didn’t sleep, knowing you’d lose grip on your appearance if you did, but with each passing minute you found it harder and harder to stay awake. Natalia lay pressed into your side, so close that you could feel her heartbeat in your ribcage. Her body radiated heat, not the kind that made your face flush with infatuation, but the kind that felt like finally finding shelter after an eternity in the freezing rain. Her breaths wound in and out as if she were sleeping, but you knew she couldn’t. No. Someone who led her life had to be hardwired to never let their guard down.

Finally, after catching yourself almost dozing off for the tenth time you peeled back the covers and forced yourself to leave the confines of the mattress that seemed intent on sucking you back down. Goosebumps immediately rose along your skin, but you didn’t dare to glance back at bed and the woman feigning slumber. You stood and stretched, working the stiff muscles in your back and shoulders. Don’t look back. You followed the trail of hastily removed clothing down the dark hall and back to the study, candles still alight. 

You buckled your jeans and grabbed your bag, lingering by the door. Don’t go back. Hastily you rummaged through the desk drawers, finding a pen and pad of paper. You scribbled down the address of a PO box that you checked quarterly along with a note that read, For another one night. 

A/N

If you didn't catch it, R is a shapeshifter like Mystique from the X-Men. I wrote this piece with the intent of having it serve as the first chapter in a longer story. I wasn't certain of the amount of interest in a series though... I fear Tumblr may be drying up some.

Let me know if you'd like to see more and I can post up the second chapter, otherwise I'll leave it be as a one-shot.

As always, thanks for reading and just a reminder, my requests are open.

[taylor-swift-fosters-it-again]

Omg Taylor Swift and kotlc

YESSS I ALWAYS LOVE THIS

so i’ve always headcanoned that sophie was a swiftie before coming to the lost cities, but given the timeline i saw, it was probably taylor’s older music. her ipod probably has some classics like picture to burn and should’ve said no. she’s definitely a fearless gal at heart (*jumps off a cliff to teleport* “head first fearless”)

fitz feels like a red guy, purely from all the angry vibes we get from him. also the revenge side of reputation, which i know isn’t much but it still feels like something he’d scream his heart out to with mr. snuggles

keefe, however. buddy, you are a reputation guy. he’s such a hopeless romantic (in my head anyway) but like your mother wronged you? your father hates you? your crush is dating your best friend? *turns volume all the way up* THEY SAY I DID SOMETHING BAD *you kiss her* THEN WHY’S IT FEEL SO GOOD???? he’s also a ttpd guy because of the ✨ emotional damage✨

biana feels like a speak now girl. independent and she knows her own self worth!! also i feel like she’d be a good singer, so she could totally do the high notes in enchanted. and she’d definitely jam to better than revenge after nightfall!!

dex is probably evermore because they’re both getting forgotten (i’m sorry). also after the crush cuffs fail he’s sitting on a bench in coney island wondering where did his best friend go. that’s all because i need to stop 😭

tam. we may all think he’s a reputation guy, but he’s a total softie and a huge folklore stan. but i won’t sit here and tell you folklore is so light and happy! there’s some dark stuff on folklore, but also that “i know i miss you” kinda stuff. not to mention that element of always being there and watching (official tam cam activity)

linh however feels like a lover girl. i’m so sorry but she is a hopeless romantic 🩷 i love her. again there’s also the “i hope i never lose you” aspect. but she also just feels so happy and optimistic that i can’t not say she’s a lover girl.

marella feels like a midnights girl, and it’s not because of all the gossip and the song paris (ok maybe it kinda is). also her flavored air. that stuff has to be, like, kid-friendly smoking. she also gives off the vibe that she never sleeps.

stina is debut because i feel like i’d give her a country accent. (“so yer fearless moonlark ain’t got no plan, eh?” i’m so sorry.) and she SO gives off picture to burn and should’ve said no vibes! read: angry country

maruca gets 1989 for two reasons. a, we haven’t had a 1989 yet, and b, she just feels like the kinda gal who’d live in new york and be a city girlie. i don’t know that much about her so i’m sorry i feel like i didn’t do her justice 😭

*checks to make sure i didn’t miss anyone*

bored? send me an ask!

[unbotheredalwyn]

I just have to say how disappointed I am in allowing myself to fall back into the Taylor trap. I started listening to her music in elementary and middle school and followed and genuinely liked her music until Red. I dropped her music because I got tired of all of drama with Jake and how everything was about a guy and then 1989 dropped and I got even more of an ick with all the Harry styles drama and after that I genuinely stopped hearing about her and her drama until midnights. I genuinely liked the vibe of it and then listened to lover, folklore, and evermore and was like Omg?! When did she mature? When did she grow this much? Folklore became my favorite album especially because it resonated so much with me while I was struggling. I went to the eras movie with my friend and we rekindled our girlhood memories and made friendship bracelets and even traded them with the few people the cinema and it was so cool to have had that moment watching the film and reliving our childhood with these people who we didn’t know but bonded with BUT THEN I got hit with the Joe break up, the Travis nonsense (like I didn’t stop seeing this man’s face no matter how hard I tried to avoid it) and then the Joe trash talk, Ratty, and worst of all-Taylor seemed to revert back to this immature, catty high school mean girl persona and I was shocked! I was so mad to find out that she contributed to this narrative against Joe and then TTPD admitting she cheated and blasted Joes mental health and her fans just justify all of it? They went from saying Joe was jobless and poor and used her to Joe being too rich to have mental health struggles and if he hadn’t been “so sad” she wouldn’t have cheated. Well which is it? Did he use her for money or did this rich man just ruin her vibe and deserve to get cheated on? And which is it from Taylor? Does she even have a real personality because it feels like she just picks up whatever suits her for the time being and I hate it.

I totally understand how you feel. I find myself sometimes missing her music.

One of the best times was the eras tour in cinemas for me too. My girlfriend surprised me with tickets we got flyers and it was a genuinely good time we were all dancing and singing along, people were handing out friendship bracelets, doing the fan chants etc but genuinely this entire thing is making me genuinely so sad because I really thought Taylor was a better person but she is just not.

Don't feel bad or disappointed because I promise you the fact that you see her bullshit and just does not blindly follow her like all the others says a LOT about you as a person and it shows your character so don't worry anon 🤗

I really am proud of Joe regardless what swifties say about him and honestly I don't think he gives a shit 😂 my unbothered king

I hope he sues them though about the ai shit and I hope Emma and Alison sues the people who spread she shitty rumors around tbh

[sami-guinea-arts]

OC Relationships - (Template by Marshallowo)

All witches respect Moloch as a higher deity!

^ Lucy: Loves Carmen (also besties), friends with Lila, Evermore and Richard. Her and Evermore are both prideful and self absorbed, so they get along well.

I figured as she loves Carmen and is best friends with her, she wouldn't be friends with Jaune obviously and would be hated by her, like Carmen. Her and John's hate is mutual. She HATES Bob the most.

^ Wendy: Loves Bob, finds big guys (Rick, Frank, fat thief) hot and is also friends with 'em. Also friends with Patty, John and Aaron (he's the only one able to survive her work outs). But she has no bestie...yet.

^ Louhi: Loves John and also besties with him (I love opposites attract trope). Friends with Streber and Ethan, due to the goth theme! She works at Boys n Grills, but has no romantic feelings for Bob.

^ Azura: Besties with Patty, loves Rick...he however doesn't know. She has trouble connecting with people, so she only has Kevin as an actual friend. Roy and the thieves are scared of her, they were unfortunate enough to see her powers in action. Due to her pyrophobia, she is scared of Moloch and Ignacio.

^ Natalie: Natalie never judges others based on their looks due to her bad vision (aside heat-vision), mainly on the experience with them. She crushes on her co-worker Patty, who unlike Azura doesn't mind her attitude.

[notyouraryang0dd3ss]

hi, indian anon here ( I think I used the ⏳️) ig you can say I'm an ex swiftie, but in the sense that I was never exposed to western music until evermore and I listened to it and loved it. I never engaged with the fandom or anything, and didn't even know all these things taylor did, and I thought taylor was a decent person because of the documentary. This was until ofc, the matty healy incident which opened my eyes to her behavior, but idky I felt like I couldn't openly dislike her. Everyone in my school was obsessed with her and if you're a girl, and you hated her, or even disliked her, you were a pick me, and I didn't wanna get hated on more by my classmates (long story there). The last straw for me was prolly when 1989 tv was released (after the mh incident I just called myself a swiftie cuz I liked her earlier work) and I had joined an online swiftie group chat, and the people there were so vile and hateful. I remember saying it's wrong hating on harry styles for cheating on her cuz she did the same, or that Joe alwyn is just a regular dude, and so are all her other exes, except prolly matty and the John Mayor guy for dating a 19 y/o (SHE ALSO DATED MINORS THO??? no one talked about this shit) and I mentioned that she's not god and that she has done bad things, and the gc, which had 50 active members everyday, collectively not only hated on me, but also these people had access to my private insta acc. My face, my friends, my address, they knew it all. It was so scary, and while I have been in plenty of toxic fandoms before (my first death threats were by the hp fandom, which I've left long back), I actually felt threatened. It actually felt like a cult, and it was scary until my insta acc got shut down (idky), and the ppl couldn't find me anymore. The swiftie fandom is weird at best, and potential criminals at worst, because wtf. They don't have any sort of individual thinking, and if someone does, they will find a way to shut it down. Even now, when I interact with a swiftie and taylor Swift comes up, and I say I don't like her, their behavior is just like the ones online. Ik ppl get more confidence to do bad things online cuz of anonymity, but swifties are the same irl, too. They completely believe it is okay to treat ppl terribly, harass and spread disgusting rumors and even doxx a Palestinian woman and give her details to Isreali organization. Like that actually happened. I regret that I didn't leave the fandom sooner because I can't believe I was associated with something like this. Ik celebrities make mistakes, and that fandoms always have one toxic portion, but this is too much.

Sorry for the long rant tho 😅

- ⏳️

sorry it took me a while to respond, there is SO MUCH HAPPENING in this ask. like 3 diff asks rolled into one omfg

1. peer pressured into “continuing” to like taylor swift you are a different kind of victim im so sorry you went through that (and all to prevent you from being bullied…im so sorry)

2. THE SWIFTIE GROUPCHAT: that is horrible and TERRIFYING. all you did was practice critical thinking and you feared for your SAFETY. their reactions are not logical nor rational and speak to how dangerous her fanbase is.

if you feel like you cannot call out your fave for their behavior without your safety being threatened, that is not a fanbase, that is a cult. i think we should actually did a venn diagram of swifties and cults we’d have a perfect circle.

3. SWIFTIES IRL: this is so true about how they behave. ive had friends tell me theyre scared of saying they hate taylor IRL cause of the backlash they’d receive. THAT IS NOT NORMAL. even when BTS was at their peak ppl never felt threatened by the ARMY to that point 😭

you NEED to send more info/links/ss about the doxxed palestinian. i need the #SwiftiesforPalestine to see wtf their mutuals are doing. that is ABHORRENT behavior. that poor woman!

thank you sm for this ask, u are truly one of god’s strongest soldiers cause wtf!!!! is wrong!!!! with swifties!!!!!

(p.s. if you are a repeat anon go ahead and sign off your asks with an emoji so i can keep track! thank you!)

[iivantablackii]

Evermore

Chapter 4 - Seeing Stars

Adam x Eve Story (Hazbin Hotel)

A/N: Took a while because I went into a rough patch because life has been a rollercoaster. Hopefully this is good, but who knows I am not the best writer but I just hope you guys can see my vision with these two, eventually we will have our first song of the series.

Security was almost a guarantee in the garden, untouched by the unpredictability of the outside world, a perfect ecosystem where the great experiment of mankind could be observed and adored. 

And yet Adam would say he had never known it before Eve. The feeling of isolation he felt almost daily disappeared, she was truly a gift to him, of course, he was not so selfish to assume that was her only purpose in life. Just watching her now, anyone could tell heaven took their time making her, each small peculiarity purposely handpicked to make a vivid picture of a woman.

She was warmth, his better half, someone he could not stand to be without.

Laying under the stars, the night was slightly frigid, but with her hand in his own, nothing but warmth engulfed his being. Blades of grass frame their figures, as they stare up at the twinkling lights in the skies. Eve always found it so strange how the heavens seemed to dim out at night, trading their brilliant blues and fluff clouds for a raven sky. Perhaps they purposely did so for those down on earth to notice the little things, to see patterns amongst the celestial bodies above. She pointed above to show Adam, wishing to share every beautiful thing this world had to offer with him.

“Look, you can draw images in the skies, just as you showed me with the clouds- the stars also hold life in them.” Moving closer to him, to the point her shoulder had touched his, she began to trace the stars in his vision. 

Unconsciously leaning into her, he listened and watched intently to her words. Allowing her to paint pictures up above, with each movement and word she continued to shape his world, unknowingly allowing it to revolve around her own. Even when he could not keep up with the speed of her ideas, he could not help but just let his focus be strayed by the melody of her voice.

“...I wish to count all of them one day, or that maybe those after us could eventually find every shape the stars have to offer.” Eve’s smile turned soft, as she looked at Adam. That look that never failed to capture his heart, every time her eyes met his own.

Adam couldn’t help but snicker a little to himself, his smile turning playful as he raised an eyebrow at her, “You’re so strange…you will probably be the only person who likes to think Eve.”

She only rolled her eyes, chuckling to herself. Knowing full well somehow that would not be the case, “Oh, and now you’re telling me you don’t like to think?”

“Of course I don’t.” He fired back jokingly, which immediately got Eve to give a mischievous smirk.

“That explains so much…”

“Oh, you little-”

Getting up slightly, he found that Eve was quite sensitive, probably the first human to ever be so ticklish. He was naturally stronger than her thanks to his stature, so it was easy to overwhelm her with his jestful attacks. Eve was practically roaring loudly with laughter as the sound carried through the clearing, no longer as melodic but the way she laughed so wildly like this, to the point her stomach began to hurt from how she didn’t seem to have the air to breathe.

How could someone not adore such a funny sound? Adam couldn’t begin to imagine.

Eve had tried and failed to pull him away, but had to settle for tapping his shoulder to get him to stop, wheezing too hard to form proper words. Her gut was now sore from how loudly she was howling with laughter, it felt like she couldn’t breathe but in the best way possible.

“Had enough?” Adam said proudly, watching as the woman huffed out for air next to him with a dopey smile on her face.

“You are only upset because you ran right into that one-”

“Oh shut up.”

Catching her breath, she pushed herself with one arm up and leaned back against it, propping herself up as she tilted her head curiously at the man in front of her. Eyes narrowed as she watched him, his mind was so much different from hers. It was delightful truly, he had the kind of grin that brought the corners of her lips up along with him, coy and teasing, it made her wonder if the crescent moon was envious of how his smile shined brighter in the night.

“You asked me if we would be able to soar through the skies, like the birds?” Adam looked at her, his eyes always seemed to make their way back to her. Even if they strayed for her, it was always for a moment, as if the only sight he could never grow tired of was her.

“I did.”

Eve looked at him, observing the rise and fall of his chest as he brought his gaze back to the heavens. The twinkling lights captured beautifully in his arctic blue eyes, the only fragment of the day in this late hour, he wanted to question as well. Perhaps curiosity was the entrance to the world Eve seemed to live in.

“Do you think the two of us will ever get to dance among the stars?”

Eve did not look up when he asked such a thing, she wanted to say yes, that it was possible- but she did not know that. Not for sure. A part of her wished for that certainty, many blessings came with this life, but knowledge of what is and what will be was not something either of them had. 

Letting out a shaky breath, she did not want to rain on this event with her indecisiveness, looking among the trees around them, she caught something in the distance. Her eyes widened a hint of something new, something she had not yet experienced in this world she and Adam lived in. She was brought to her feet, her eyes were fixed.

Adam felt his heart clench in his chest, watching her stand, this feeling he could not put a name to. But it felt as if the world just stopped, where the only thing he could hear was the sound of his heartbeat and how the rhyme seemed to grow uneven when he watched her get up to run.

He did not realize he had grabbed onto her hand until rosy eyes looked back at him. Confusion in her features, Adam brought to his knees as he held onto the woman, it was clear something was clouding his mind now, Eve could see it. Azure shadowed over the normal soft blues of his gaze, his eyebrows furrowed with the slightest quiver of his lip.

“Adam? What’s the matter?”

“You did not answer my question…” He spoke, his voice stripped of its usual bravado, it was airy, vulnerable.

Eve stepped closer, to look down at the man as he seemed uncertain as well, but perhaps his was deeper than hers. Different, dare she say it was pain that caused him to hold onto her like this. His grip was not harsh, it was desperate, for what she did not know, “I will answer it soon enough, but I can tell that’s not why you cling to me, so I will ask again. What is wrong, dear?”

“You…” Adam’s hand shook, he looked down to the grass beneath them. He couldn’t form the words, his thoughts he was afraid to unravel, it felt exposing to try and find words for what he was thinking. For why he was afraid, “Are you trying to leave me too, Eve?”

“What are you talking about, I would never want to leave you?”

“I know you say that, but I-” He let out a frustrated sigh, he was not angry with her, he was just vexed at his thoughts. His doubts. She never gave him reason to be weary, and yet he could not shake this feeling. 

But she waited, the serene air around her calming the storm in his mind, he took a moment to hold onto her hand tightly. It was not as if he wanted to be possessive of her, keep her only for himself, he loved to see her roam freely. He relished in the radiance that was her own, not his, but with her freedom slowly grew the seeds that she would run too far from him. He knew nothing of companionship before her, loneliness was only solitude before he knew Eve, but now that he knew what it felt to be comforted by her presence he was fearful of being on his own again.

“I am sorry…I just, I don’t mean to be unfair to you, it just scares me. It scares me to be alone, Lilith, she was the woman before you. Sure I did not have a bond with her like I have with you, but it didn’t make her leaving hurt any less, her fleeing to another. Yeah, we didn’t get along, at all, but sometimes I wonder what I lacked to cause her not just to leave, but run from me, I just…don’t ever want you to do the same. Run from me. Am I not interesting enough? Am I too harsh? You are so much different than me, your world seems sometimes unlike my own, and in all honesty, I find it hard to keep up sometimes. What if something else captures your gaze, and you never look back to me again?”

Eve took a moment to process his words, her expression hard to properly gauge. Adam brought his other hand to hold onto hers, but he brought her hand to his temple as if he were praying to her. Pleading with her to not leave him, and internally hoping she did not find this display of vulnerability pathetic. He did not wish to let these doubts out, not to her, he didn’t want the world around him to have such power to hurt him if he let his sorrows free.

“I am afraid of loneliness, I know it’s weak to be but I am. And I am not trying to compare you and her, I know you have never given me a reason to not trust you. But I- just…I can’t find the words to say what it is that bothers me so much.” Eve softened, she was not angry, not even for a moment. She was not upset with him, but for him, “I will not pretend to know or understand exactly what it is that you fear, but please let me try to ease your fears.” With her free hand, she brought his chin up so his eyes could once again meet her own. He looked frightened, she was not going to blame whomever this woman before her for his circumstances, but it caused a deep ache in her chest to see him in such a state. But she smiled down at him, just as she always did, she did not see a pathetic or hurt man, only Adam.

“This world is wonderful, there is so much beauty I see and hope to dig for. Each discovery I find makes me want to rush to you, each new wonder I find I bring back just to see that shine of your eyes. To make you smile, to make you laugh, to confuse you, I adore you, Adam. You are by far the best thing my world has to offer.” 

Her hand let go of his face, as she stood tall once more, the handheld in his beginning to slowly pull and slip from his grip, “If I ever stray too far from you, if I ever stray too far from you...Adam, promise me you will chase after me?”

It was a question that did not need to be asked. He longed for her, only her. So when he brought his lips to the back of her hand, he happily sealed that promise as well as the doubts that plagued his mind constantly for once became silent, “I promise.”

One last smile, one last laugh she offered to him before she ran off to the forest. Running to obtain something he could not see until he could no longer see her. The ache in his chest was still there, but thoughts of her kept him occupied. 

A few minutes felt like an eternity, an eternity where he could only think of her. He forced himself to his feet, to stand proud until she returned to him, just as she always did. She was never far from him, that’s what he had to keep reminding himself, and he was not wrong for believing that. A contrast to his darker thoughts that said she would run and never return, he did his best to remain certain of her, as she trusted her words more than his mind right now.

As he saw movement, unlike earlier Eve was walking back slowly, but her excitement was still evident. The grin on her face was one he had seen a million times before but never grew tired of, her hands encasing something he could not see. Creating an entrapment for the unknown, standing in front of Adam the wind softly blew her hair back, a chill rolled down Adam’s spine as he kept his eyes fixated on her fingers as they gently held a sphere-like shape to whatever discovery Eve wanted to show to him.

“To answer your question of if we can dance among the lights above…”

Releasing her hands, his eyes widened and small glowing orbs seemed to fly from the palms of her hands. But they did not return to the skies, instead, he watched as they all glided slowly through the field around them. He did not know of such little creatures that could mimic the constellations, but for a moment Eve seemed to bring down the heavens just for him.

“Thankfully you and I have practice dancing together...” Looking back at her, she grasped his hand again, her other landing on her shoulder. And instinctively, Adam’s hands went to her waist, the two fitting perfectly together as they began to slowly waltz among the living stars around them. Her head against his chest, she shut her eyes as she spoke softly again, “It is only you, I would bring the stars to, Adam.”

It was all breathtaking, she was breathtaking. Dancing the night away, among the twinkling lights, Adam could not help but let out a soft laugh, she did have a way of bridging a way of her world to his, so he could forget the dull life he had before where all he had was himself. Bringing her hand to his lips once more, he could not help but speak softly against her warm skin, “My Eva, you are everything.”

A display of something that had not yet been properly explored, this world was new, and the idea of them was new. The two souls continued to bask in the feeling of being in one another's arms, longing to only be with one another. The sound of Eve’s voice softly humming throughout the air, along with Adam’s slowly joined her in this song with no name, and yet the melody held weight. 

The only word that could describe it was love. They loved each other, romance was not yet explored, but to the world, these two’s romance was the start of it all.

And the one said to ruin it all, was near. As the two danced, the serpent watched with curious eyes.

[likeadevils]

in your opinion what's the most midnights song on evermore, im thinking maybe coney island but i need some other opinions and i think you're the best to ask

i guess theres a lot of songs on evermore that kind of have their parallel song on midnights but im trying to find the one with the entire concept of the album

oh this is so interesting. there are a lot of thematic similarities between the two albums-- evermore is about endings, and so is a lot of midnights. midnights is, on its face, looking back on stutations that have ended, and in the benefit of hindsight, an album about deciding whether or not to break up with the (then) love of her life. she also plays the bad guy on evermore and midnights in a way her earlier work shied away from (obviously back to december did this but you know what i'm saying). champagne problems, tis the damn season, ivy, anti-hero, midnight rain, high infidelity, arguably maroon-- like, theyre all her unapologetically being the villain, the cheater, the one who leaves a relationship for no discernible reason. so, i think there's a lot of options here

my first instinct was closure. which is ironic because it was one of the first songs made but like. there's an anger there, an acceptance of her flaws, and a commitment to her dignity that are all like. the ideas that midnights is circling around

it's time to go is another contender to me. i think midnights is really grappling with what it means to leave a person, how your past hurts stack on top of each other to make the person you are today. "that old familiar body ache that snaps from the same little breaks in your soul" is sorta the heart of midnights

and then tis the damn season is like. like i made a joke when midnights came out that "this whole album is just. fame and the expectations that come with has ruined almost every relationship i’ve ever had, including my relationship with myself…. however i’m hot as shit xo" and like. that's tis the damn season