#tie that corset solo

[unicorrrrrn]

Shanaaaaaa please teach me the corset lacing hack!!! Thanks bestie!!! Hope you’re doing better 💕

While it's kinda hot to have someone yank those ribbons, it's very liberating to do it yourself! In fact, I now prefer to do it solo.

I taught myself this for conventions and it's super helpful. The main trick is that you pull the laces to the front of your body and then slowly pull the back parts one lace at a time and then tighten by pulling the ribbon forward.

This is a great video that shows it (skip to 1 minute and watch till about 3 minutes :)

[cheriewony]

boo, you whore — huh yunjin

genre; smut, smut with plot

pairing; mean girl!yunjin x fem!reader

warnings; mean yunjin, degredation, size kink, strapon use, cunnilingus, face sitting, voyeurism, mentions of filming

note; this is a repost from my old blog (cheriejen) i honestly loved writing this request, want jen to call me a whore and rail me senseless ♡ - would you guys like a pt 2? i was thinking of doing a foursome with the plastics-

minors ++ men, dni

huh yunjin seemed to have spawned her wretched way into this world with a silver spoon in her mouth, wearing perilously tall jimmy choos and a matching pink birkin. this hadn't changed much in university. you had thought that after the horrid interactions the two of you had had back in high school, university was going to be a fresh start.

you couldn't have been more wrong.

whilst yunjin's friends-since-birth miyawaki sakura and kim chaewon were studying elsewhere, she had been able to make a new trio of plastics quickly enough. yu jimin had been connected to yunjin's hip since she had stepped onto campus. she was the life of the party- organising mixers, socials and parties like this very halloween one. jang wonyoung, a fashion major and the titled prettiest girl on campus, had been an obvious choice as the final piece in the highly-respected trio.

just like she had cornered you in the cafeteria in her short little tennis skirts in high school, here she was, in a short pink slip dress that was hardly covering her hot pink lingerie, her glittery lip gloss smudged from an intense makeout session she'd just had with the captain of the university football team. oh, and the bunny ears that had been propped onto her college-blonde hair, almost like an afterthought.

you had learnt that college halloween parties were an excuse to dress slutty the hard way- after showing up, fake blood, teeth and warts as frankenstein's wife to your first halloween party in your freshman year. today, you were wearing the same veil you had to your first party, instead paired with a white front-tie corset, the shortest skirt in your closet and a wash of dewy tint on your lips.

yunjin's lip curled into that smirk she always had in front of you. despite years of witnessing her lip curl in that manner, you still couldn't really understand what it meant. disgust? irritation? amusement?

"who would've thought a little suck up like you would be at one of my parties?"

you hesitated to correct her. this technically wasn't her party- after all, it had been karina who had thrown the party. your lips remained shut; any party huh yunjin actually showed up too soon became her party.

your hesitation was interrupted by yunjin's perfectly manicured hand fastening around your wrist. she ends up tugging you along with one hand, the other hand sneaking another small tray of filled red solo cups on it, continuing to weave neatly through the throngs of drunken young adults before pushing you into the bathroom, not even bothering to lock the door behind you two.

she can only smile over at your flushed face, how your lips had pursed into pants after clumsily rushing into the bathroom behind her. yunjin props herself onto the bathroom counter top, draining one of the solo cups in one, squealing aloud once she finished.

"actually grew yourself some tits, huh?" she questions, that cheshire-cat grin still tugging at her lips. she steps forward to tug the bow holding the from of your top together loose.

part of you instinctively shielded your now bare skin, cheeks stained red as yunjin chuckled over at you.

"no bra? what a slut."

your cheeks could only get warmer at her words as she pushed you to settle onto the bathroom counter, moving to stand between your legs, lifting your skirt up to get a view of the lacy pink panties you were wearing. she smirked at the sticky patch that was beginning to form between your legs.

"what a fucking whore."

the next view was something you never expected; huh yunjin, propped on her knees as she pushed your panties aside and began to lap at your dripping cunt, playboy bunny ears askew on her halo of blonde hair.

your were obsessed with her. anyone would be with how her tongue teased your clit, drawing long licks against your sweet pussy. all you could do was moan, tugging at wads of blonde hair to force you closer, only causing her to bite at your inner thighs.

"do you know how much that stylist cost me? don't you fucking dare."

so you don't, your hands fiddling with your tits instead, rubbing the nub of your nipple to make your eyes roll, tongue propped out of your mouth as yunjin continued to lap at your pretty pussy. as soon as your legs begin to roll alongside her licks, she pulls away, lips shining with your wetness.

"it's that easy to get you to cum? fucking slut, bet you've thought about this for so long? what a creep-"

she moves to the side, removing her own clothes, only revealing more perfect curves. she was venus and you were under her spell as she moved out of view to put something on. by the time she arrived back in front of you, you were salivating. the strap on was huge. and glittery pink. obvi.

you immediately drop to your knees, eager to lap and suck at the tip of the dildo but yunjin only scoffs in disgust.

"i don't want your foul mouth anywhere near this. lie down."

and you did. she forces you to lay down as she aligns the pink dildo with your entrance, lubing it down with your own wetness. she slowly pushes in, the two of your moans sync. her hands find purchase on your hips before moving faster, ignoring any of your whines or demands.

"listen here bitch. i make the rules here. all i want to hear from you are those dirty little moans-"

your eyes become glassy, almost doll-like as she does as she pleases, grunting almost animalistically as her thrusts get more incoherent and shaky, your gummy walls tightening around her.

"f-fuck- keep taking me, don't make me stop-"

your whines are pornographic at this point, making your own hips move alongside her thrusts, your thumb teasing your clit as you reach your high. as if a puppeteer had dropped your strings, you collapse onto yunjin, hands gripping past her tits to rest on her shoulders.

yunjin groans in disgust, pushing your weak frame flat onto the counter before taking out her phone, beginning to film your twitching self, your pussy still quivering around her pink cock. you try to cover your face, which clearly doesn't please yunjin one bit. she pulls out in frustration, and grabs her stuff before glaring at you.

"boo, you whore."

@ cheriewony © 2024 | do not copy, repost or translate without the permission of the author

[marinedecoder]

got around to designing a second outfit for Karla as part of my quest to ensure all the RH/SH dolls get two sets of clothes to mess around with.

since Karla is apparently based around Karl Lagerfeld, which becomes real obvious once you know anything about how he dressed, i decided to take some elements from his designs, and combine them with her, like...office girl chic. the corset-style body suit is based around this mesh corset, the boots (whose colours i may inverse, looking at them now) are based on these boots, and her bracelets are based on this and this. the necklace is just based on the guy's propensity for layered necklaces.

not super sure about the suit jacket, but one feels necessary to tie stuff together, and i think the kind of...bewjewlled look RH/SH enploys on certain pieces would suit the other choices here.

the design choices here absolutely Do Not reflect my feelings towards Lagerfeld, but i'm trying to design second outfits from a couple of points of reference. one of these is trying to adhere to the style references that are implied by the first outfit's designs for each doll, which limited me a tiny bit to the Lagerfeld style here, and is why i pulled from 90s grungey skater style for Blu. the second point is that i want the pieces to allow for the mix-and-match elements of the earlier dolls' clothing, where each outfit worked as a solo set or could be blended.

the bodysuit would be a semi-translucent or mesh, pearly white tone, with sparkly signature-pink toned corset boning. the original piece is basically see-through barring the boning, but given that the RH dolls are teens, i tried to make it a little more modest while keeping the high-fashion elements, so the fabric and cut are a little altered, and it's a bodysuit instead of a corset to help keep it under her other clothes. the coat would be lined with satin, and...honestly, might be different in colour and exact cut when my mind's done rotating the concept and i get closer to being able to, uhh...actually make the things i'm dreaming up.

[scotianostra]

On June 27th 1937, Robin Hall, folk singer and musician, was born in Edinburgh.

Robin, had to overcome polio as a child inspent most of his early years in Glasgow and was a direct descendant of Rob Roy Macgregor, and of Mungo Park, the explorer. His mother had been an opera singer and Robin was nurtured on a generous diet of classical music and music hall songs. During his lengthy convalescence from polio his interest in all types of music flourished.

As a teenager, he played with a traditional jazz group, studied the piano, and spent his spare time digging up American folk songs and investigating the folk material of his native Scotland. Hall studied at the Royal Scottish Academy of Music and Dramatic Art, and worked briefly as in actor in repertory theatres. Robin went to London in 1957, armed with a large repertoire of folk songs and a guitar. While in England he recorded a series of EP's for "Collector Records", which are now very hard to find and highly priced. In the 60's, Robin became a bit notorious and controversial for insisting on wearing his Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament badge on the BBC's Tonight Show, for which he was widely criticized.

After Robin left the duo in 1981, he enjoyed a successful career in broadcasting—winning two national radio awards, for best presenter and best documentary, for Radio Clyde's The Sing Song Streets, a program about Glasgow told through songs, stories and children's games.

Sadly, Robin died on November 18, 1998, at the age of 61. Another great folk singer that lived life to excess, lost at an early age. Robin married and divorced twice and was survived by three children.

There's not many Robin Hall solo songs out there, Fitba Crazy, Coulter's Candy, Mingulay Boat Song and the likes are all with his long time singing partner Jimmy, but I did manage to find one song!

Dundee Weaver is a famous bawdy Glasgow street song

Oh, A'm a Dundee weaver

An A come fae bonnie Dundee

I met a Glesca fellae

An he gaed courtin me

He tuik me out a-walkin

Doun by the Kelvin Haa

An thair the dirty wee rascal stole

Ma thingumijig awa

An thair the dirty wee rascal stole

Ma thingumijig awa

He tuik me oot a-walkin

Doun by the Roukin Glen

He showed tae me a bonnie wee bird

An he showed me a bonnie wee hen

He showed tae me the bonnie wee birds

Fae a linnet tae a craw

An he showed tae me the bird that stole

Ma thingumijig awa

An he showed tae me the bird that stole

Ma thingumijig awa

Noo A'll ging back tae Dundee luikin

Bonnie, young an fair

A'll pit oan ma buckle an shune

An tie back ma bonnie broun hair

A'll pit oan ma corsets tight

Tae mak ma middle luik smaa

An wha wad ken fae ma rosie cheeks

That ma thingumijig's awa?

An wha wad ken fae ma rosie cheeks

That ma thingumijig's awa?

Come aa ye Dundee weavers an

Tak this advise fae me

Never let a fellae

An inch abune yer knee

Never staun at the back o a close

Or up agin a waa

For if ye dae ye can safely say

Yer thingumijig's awa

For if ye dae ye can safely say

Yer thingumijig's awa

[morethanaloveinterest]

A Detailed Look at Furiosa's Costume in Mad Max: Fury Road

With her solo movie coming out, let's revisit her first appearance and talk about Furiosa's costume and what it can tell us about the character.

She wears this same costume throughout the movie, though she does add goggles and a mask when they go into the sand storm.

Starting at the bottom, she is wearing leather boots that, like so much in this movie, look like the combination of whatever could be found. They have a couple layers to keep them on her feet and are obviously adept at traversing the rugged terrain.

The pants are likely linen and have a lot of holes stitched together. This seems to be more for decoration, given the even patterning, rather than repairs she's made.

Next, the belt is a smaller version of what Immortan Joe wears in the same place. The symbol is clearly representative of him, likely indicating her status as Imperator for him. The chains coming off of it may indicate her status as well. The angle here changes what is basically a codpiece for him into something a bit more feminine, with the chains reminiscent of a skirt (the kind many women in lesser scifi dystopias have to wear).

Three belts secure her arm prosthetic to her body. Like the rest of her outfit, these feel cobbled together and do not match. There are connected to a piece of armor at the shoulder and a cuff around her upper arm.

The prosthetic itself matches her vocation as driver of the war rig - many of the parts are clearly those taken from other vehicles. It is a complicated device and she has some ability to use the fingers in place of her missing hand.

Her shirt is made of off-white fabric on the top with a dark, maybe leather, area resembling a corset. The off-white is similar to what the women she rescued are wearing and tie them all together visually. It has a lot more layers than they wear and can give the impression of bandages.

Finally, her hair is cut short like most of the male characters. She has painted her head black which might be because of the sun (at least around her eyes) but is probably a kind of pageantry to match the war boys and their silver paint.

Female Representation: 10/10 This is probably the best outfit I've ever seen a woman wear in a desert dystopia. She is fully covered, everything is very practical, there are a couple slightly feminine touches but nothing to single her out. She is the hero of this story and she looks like it.

Practicality: 10/10 Honestly, this may the most practical outfit I've ever talked about. She is ready for anything that may come at her and that is quite impressive in this society.

[hardcoreyiffmaster]

Heya :3

Just gonna introduce myself I guess, might update this when I feel like it I'm a switch/mostly sub from Germany, he/him. I'm heterosexual (although men are also really hot), demisexual, possibly polyamorous and a GaYmEr. Currently I'm doing a bondage kink solo challenge run, but am looking for a partner or partners to help me finish (hehe) my bdsm% speedrun because tying yourself up gets boring after a while. Not really interested in open relationships tho

So ummm I guess hmu if you're into that lol

I am into: bdsm, handcuffs (love the ✨aesthetic✨), metal shackles, ropes, ropemarks, leather, leather straps (fashion, restraints and strap-ons), belts, boots, corsets, goth fashion, collars, leashes, gags, blindfolds, assertive women, femdom, multiple doms/subs, brats (both being one and having a bratty dom), tied up cuddling (also leave me tied over night💤), tickling, spanking, edging, teasing

I'd like to try: hardcore bondage, bondage games (like with dice or something but also gaming and stuff yada yada🎲🎮), shibari, suspension bondage, long-term bondage (tie me up and leave me for hours🖤), cages, petplay, primal play, light roleplay, pegging, ball-busting(?), chastity (?), whipping, hardcore tickle torture (restrained with gag and all☠), sensory deprivation, overstimulation, being owned (locked collar, shackled to the bed, gagged when I talk too much🔒), shock collars, electrostimulation, nipple torture, different kinds of (kinky) torture in general

I'm NOT into: ageplay, permanent damage, body modification, bodily fluids of all kinds (sweat and saliva are aight I guess), scat, humiliation, degradation, voyeurism, exhibitionism (though I'm not opposed to outdoor bondage), cnc, pregnancy

So yeah that's me I may occasionally post gaming stuff or artwork I made (if I get back into drawing that is) but this will mostly be my horny blog because I'd like to keep that separate from my main Oh yeah and to reiterate: NO minors; this blog is strictly 18+ if you try to interact with me anyway then I swear, in the name of the Goddesses of the sun and moon, of collars, leashes and handcuffs, I will smite you and block you swiftly and without mercy.

Have a nice day <3

[high-quality-tiktoks]

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Fun fact corsets are really hard to tie solo

[honestsycrets]

The Phantom I: Think of Me | Ubbe x Reader x Ivar

❛ pairing | ivar x reader x ubbe

❛ type | multi

❛ summary | you're used to a life with the phantom. his company feels like home.

❛ tags | slight violence, phantom of the opera au, love triangles, original characters.

❛ sy’s notes | this piece has been a long time coming. each chapter will be named according to soundtrack pieces. the introductory scene is probably reminiscent of the movie, i really want to recreate those feelings for me. @alicedopey

The Opera was loud today. Usually, the flutter of shoes downstairs, the rush to change costume, or the giggles from flirtatious girls was typical. Sigurd would lower backdrops as beautiful ballerinas crossed him, dreaming of life not as the keeper of backstage: but as a musician. He loved the dancing girls. You rushed down the stairs to the bottom floor and binding it with soft ribbons passing rich crimson curtains of the stage. Madame Gunnhild reprimanded you for your heavy steps, reminding you that this was not folk music. This was ballet. Powerful, yes. But not unnecessarily loud.

The only loud one was the star whose voice rattled the stage. Her presence incited the glamour of a fat cat. Not that she was plump; perhaps she would be happier, rather than hungrily scrounging and screaming and howling for more and more. Signora Stella was insatiable.

“It’s because someone is coming for tonight’s gala. She wants to make sure he knows who she is. Didn’t you hear?” Adeline whispered. “Bjorn sold the Opera.”

“Is that really true?” The dancers convened on the stage for a final run-through of the opera Hannibal. For which your pink gossamer silk slave piece so appropriately draped off your hips while she stood donned in gold and red, strutting around the stage.

���It’s not FAIR!” Her eye was squarely upon manager Halfdan. His soft eyebrows bundled together as she berated him with her latest complaint. At his side, his brother stood with his hand settled nicely into the taupe pocket of his slacks. You recognized them. Bjorn brought them in the deep quiet of dance rehearsals. Harald especially loved the dancers. He loved to watch them spin along the stage like a top.

“Signora,” Halfdan’s sweet voice consoled. You rushed around her stony body, her beautiful blonde hair wrought in delicate curls. “La mia Stella,” he crooned. There was a softness to the way his dirty blonde hair framed his gentle eyes.

“I am the star, me! Me, me, me!” her foot cracked down on the hardwood floor. She gestured toward your ruddy-haired friend, then you, biting out her complaint. “Not one of these-- these dancing girls can sing like I!”

“We know, Signora.”

“Then who dressed-- them?”

Harald crossed his arms over one another, glancing toward his boots. It could never just be the voice. It was an experience. For a man like Harald, whose artistic expression was about in line with that of a straw doll, it meant costume.

“You will be the focus. We will give you a solo. Just for you!”

“A new song?” she turned, the wheels of her brain suddenly spinning again. She ran her ringed hand down Halfdan’s pressed deep blue suit, drawing her ruby nails up to tap him on the nose. “What kind of song?”

“Think of Me,” said Harald.

“Think of Me!” she squawked. “That is perfect. Perfect for a girl like me! Can you imagine me-- a childhood lover-- in Paris?”

No, you couldn’t. Even Paris was too muted for her taste.

“Well?” she looked toward your group. “Get off my stage. Especially you,” she pointed her finger between Adeline and you. You’re not sure who she’s talking about. “Fat little frog.”

It’s better not to push. You take Adeline in one hand and, with the other, the sheer fabric. The orchestra wretched alive again as the awful vocalizations filled the auditorium, reverberating your ear. Think of Me never sounded worse.

Still, it must be nice, you think, to be an opera star by virtue of birth. Sour with embarrassment but saved by the prospect of dance, you delighted in knowing that Stella would soon leave after her songs were sung to a T. A woosh of air hair threw your hair over your shoulders. It was compounded by her harsh scream and filling the auditorium. You glanced from the floor to the upper stage where, if you looked closely, you might have seen a shadow flitting across the bridge with the aid of the banister.

“Up up up up! Get me OUT FROM UNDER HERE!”

“Sigurd!” Halfdan boomed. “What are you doing up there!?”

“I wasn’t up there.”

Your fingers left your locket when Sigurd hiked up the stairs beside you. His dark trousers were stained with paint, as was his crisp white dress shirt, pulled apart with a pretty blue smear across his chest. You peered over Sigurd to see the black drop clattered over Stella’s back, pressing her chest to the ground and chin quivering in horror.

“So it fell on its own?” Harald accused belligerently.

“I never said that. Signora. The Opera is full of strange magic.” he stood upright, helping her stand on quivering heels, shouting in awful pain. He quirked his head. “Oh, she won’t be able to perform on that.”

She jabs her finger into Harald’s chest, deliberately on his fine silk tie. Then Halfdan, whirling a curse. Stella squealed with renewed vigor. “You see what you’ve done! I hate you! I hate you! And I hate this-- this phantom!”

“Not that again,” Harald rolled his eyes.

The light in her eyes burst, soaring through the surface like an explosion across the surface. How awfully she punched him, shouting about his indignation in not paying the Phantom his salary-- before flitting down the steps on a beating heel. She would be back. Maybe not today, but another. Sigurd dragged the fallen backdrop to the side, inspecting the thick-cut rope and all its seeming imperfections.

“Can we reschedule for next week?” said one.

“We need a new star,” said the other. “Every day is the same.”

Adeline leaned her aquiline nose into your curls, “Do you think it was him?”

An awful warmth flooded your belly. Should you rejoice in a woman’s abuse? No, but at the same time, it meant she would not be here to berate the ballerinas. There was no one there.

“She can sing it for you, Harald.” At that moment, Madame Gunnhild hooked her arms under your arms. Harald turned on his boot to Gunnhild, a sultry smile playing on his lips. “What? Her?”

“No, Madame. Please.” You choked on your own words in the attempt to process what she meant. She wove her spindly fingers in your hand, jerking you toward the middle of the stage. For a moment, your heart seized to beat, blood ran still, and you might have fainted by the curiosity in the brothers’ eyes.

“Shh,” she whispered into your ear. “I know you can sing Think of Me. I’ve heard you sing with him.”

If you ever have a moment, spare a thought for me.

Your stomach leapt with uncertainty in the silence of the room. Outside, gossip ran like a bolt of lightning across the sky. Stella’s replacement was never a position you hoped to have. Not for a day, nor an hour but here you were, dabbing your lips with a pink product after intermission in your father’s old room. His picture sat framed by photos of your family: Thyri, Siggy, and him. Your hand trembled as you seized it. Then, falling away, you looked toward the letter that sat square in front of you.

“You have a letter from the Opera Ghost,” Gunnhild had said. Usually, those words would have inspired anyone with fear. Instead, it filled your belly with fervor, a soft pinkness that dusted over your cheeks soften than any blush you could apply. “Open it when you’re alone.”

You fluttered your eyes, hoping that the excitement in your belly was just a built-up from this corset that restricted your breathing. Breath swelled in your chest. You hooked a letter opener under the blotchy gold seal.

“Bellisima.”

The voice echoed through the room. Your physician Athelstan told you it was nothing: a figment of your imagination that you ought to hush about-- or they would send you away. Your angel was a kiss from God and nothing more. Your chest swelled with a heavy breath, fixing the earrings into your ear. They looked like the very stars that shone on the rooftop of the opera house. The voice filled the room, a soft sing-song that bounced from wall to wall and filled you with something like peace.

“Open it, my sweet.”

“It frightens me,” you murmured.

“Don’t be frightened.”

With a flick of your letter opener, you forced the crisp letter apart. In it, a square of parchment sat nestled between a glimmering gold chain. It was a glorious gold chain and, at the end of it, a singular heart locket. There was a knock at your door just as you inspected the inscription etched into its surface.

“May I come in?”

Whether or not you’d agree, Harald already came in. He was a man of tall stature despite his height. Wherever he carried himself, there was respect. You knew him to be in love with Gunnhild, and though she gave him no attention, you knew his intentions for her.

“Do you want to sit down?” you offered. Harald drew off his taupe jacket to figure with a tucked letter in his black breast coat. He held it out to you. You took it, bracelets jingling and saw that inside was a wealth of currency.

“Oh-- this is…” you murmured. “More than I can accept.”

“You knew the viscount, don’t you?”

The viscount Ragnar, you recall. Your cheeks warmed with his memory—a thin child with honey brown hair and a big heart. Harald kneeled before you, running his hand on top of your fluffy pink ball dress.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“It has been a while,” you gesture to your photo of your father, reminded by the memory of the land you left behind in Scandinavia. “He probably wouldn’t remember me.”

“I’d wager you’re wrong. Put in a good word for us. He’ll be hard-pressed not to notice you,” he pauses. He rolled his finger through your long curl. It slipped away from his finger as he took his bunched-up suit jacket and opened the door. “As beautiful as you look tonight.”

“I-- thank you.”

The door clasps shut. You didn’t need this money, you murmured. But perhaps the children could use bread. Your attention fell to the necklace around your neck. If you turned the gold pendant over and over again between your fingertips, you could calm the racing of your heart. Today, you would be Elissa. Tomorrow, maybe a chorus girl once again. It was your time. The Ubbe from your memory was just that: a memory.

“Sing it again.”

@tephi101 @alicedopey @supernaturalvikingwhore @tootie-fruity @titty-teetee @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla @ethereallysimple @deathbyarabbit @deathbyarabbit @readsalot73 @natalie-rdr @lol-haha-joke @lisinfleur @hissouthernprincess @marvelousse @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol @vikingsmania @wish-i-was-a-mermaid @lif3snotouttogetyou @gruffle1 @cris101071 @gold-dragon-slayer @babypink224221 @wonderwoman292 @naaladareia @beyond-the-ashes @generic-fangirl @chinduda @laketaj24, @peaceisadirtyword, @ly–canthrope @cris101071​ @daughterofthenight117 @unassumingviking @ladyofsoa, @inforapound @winchesterwife27 @feyrearcheron44@readsalot73 @squirrelacorngliterfarts @gold-dragon-slayer​ @medievalfangirl @sallydelys  @bluearchersstuff @affectionrabbitt @whatamood13 @notyouraveragegirl17 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @unacceptabletatertots @ivarandersen @stra-vage @tgrrose @cookies186 @learninglemni-blog @theleeshanotlouise @soiproclaim @msmorganforever @destynelseclipsa @soleil-dor @strangunddurm @superwolfchild-fan

[alecmagnuslwb]

No One Writes Songs About the Ones That Come Easy

Read on AO3

John feels the eyes of the women and a few men in the crowd crawling all over him as he dumps his red solo cup of vodka down his shirt just for show. He swerves back around to the microphone playing into it all as he sings one of their original songs. This one a track he wrote a long time ago, long before Mucous Membrane was even a thought traveling across his mind.

It’s one of the few songs he’s put to paper that’s not all fire and brimstone, it’s about a girl. About the girl and she doesn’t have a damn clue he wrote it. She probably never will after how things were left the last time they saw each other.

Fire and brimstone and broken hearts that was. He continues on pouring out the lyrics he wrote on an old napkin while he watched her sleep when he feels something in the air. He freezes up for a moment during Beano’s drum solo trying to place that feeling he’s having, like someone’s in the room like something familiar is falling over him.

He shakes it off when the next chorus comes around writing it off as nostalgia being brought back deep in his bones from the song.

“Alright, we’ve got one last one for you,” John says when the original track is done. “It’s a classic, not one of ours.”

The crowd goes wild, people fucking love cover bands. They have to be one part time to ever get a show that is in somewhere slightly less creepy, like this bar that’s more dingy than creepy. A big upgrade.

Beano, Les and Gary start the music leading John in on the first chords of Wicked Game. He gets through the first verse when his eyes catch on a woman far in the back. Long dark hair piled up on her head in two big buns her back turned to the stage. She looks so much like her.

Nostalgia can be a real bitch.

He keeps singing eyes straying back to the spot the woman stood as he moves into the chorus and the second verse even though she’s no longer standing there. Maybe he should stop singing that song it always has an effect on him.

He starts the next chorus when he spots her again, but this time he knows it’s not nostalgia and that that feeling he felt before wasn’t a memory tugging at the edges of him, it was her.

Zatanna Zatara is in the building ladies and gentlemen. She works her way through the crowd a long dark coat trailing behind her, one of her signature corset style tops decorated in gold and black lace, bow tie style bows at both her hips. Metallic gold shorts over those fishnets that have always driven him crazy. Gods, she might be more beautiful now than she was before if that’s even possible.

Every person she bumps into gives her an indignant look of annoyance before really looking at her and losing all train of thought. He gets that, he’s been that. Hell, he is that right now.

He trips up on the lyrics when she looks up to the stage, her eyes locking onto his. Her eyes go warm with a smile, her lips shining, and he forgets about the lyrics all together. Gary and Les both sidle up next to him Gary looking over the crowd while Les pushes the microphone just off to the side so no one else can hear.

“You alright, mate?” he whispers shouts into John’s ear and John vaguely nods, eyes still on Zatanna who’s swaying ever so slightly to the music. Gary must spot her because he presses an understanding fist to John’s shoulder before he taps Les on the arm and starts right into the interlude. Les eyes John warily before he falls in line with the song.

Zatanna gives him a look that he can read even from all the way up on the stage, it says ‘well are you gonna sing or just stand there?’ It shakes him out of his reverie just in time for the third verse.

“The world was on fire and no one could save me but you,” he sings throwing himself back into the lead singer persona he’s mastered. “Strange what desire will make foolish people do. I never dreamed that I'd love somebody like you,” he sings eyes still locked on Zatanna’s. Smirks up at him a shine from the stage lights catching on her lips. “And I never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you.”

He breaks from her eyes there throwing himself fully back into the song finishing it off with a guttural yell of the last line. He lets the microphone drop to the floor, looking back once at the crowd to find her long black jacket already going the other way.

John practically runs off the stage, eager to grab his shit and go find her wherever she may be out in that dingy bar or on the street outside every man and woman who’s piling out of here looking her over because she’s impossible not to linger on. The guys follow behind him, Chas with a knowing grin that matches Gary’s as he passes him by. Les and Beano hustle as well, clearly eager to find out what had John slip up on stage like that.

He busts open the door to the makeshift green room where they’ve stashed all their shit heading directly for the beat up metal chair he left his jacket on. He immediately grabs for the pockets pulling his lighter and his near empty pack of cigarettes out.

“What happened out there Constantine?” Beano asks tossing his drum sticks on the ratty old couch as he walks in. “Was it that girl who made her way up to the front?”

Les and Gary follow in next as John promptly ignores them sticking a cigarette between his lips, he just wants to get out of here and find her. Chas and Gary know enough to fill the two other nosey assholes in on everything.

“That’s not just some girl,” Chas says filing into the backroom last leaning back on the open door. Gary nods in agreement. “That’s the girl.”

“Is that what they’re calling me these days?” Zatanna says appearing in the doorway stealing John’s heart just by being there. The cigarette hanging loosely from his lips damn near drops, if he thought she looked good from afar while he stood up onstage, she’s a goddess up close.

Chas moves first though putting his big arms around her and lifting her up from the ground in a giant bear hug.

“Zatanna!” he bellows as she wraps her arms around him in return the best she can. Behind him he hears the boys whispering, Les saying something rather randy about her legs. John reaches an elbow back and hits him in the stomach causing him to crumble over.

“Hey, big guy,” she says fondly as Chas settles her feet back down to the ground. “It’s been too long.”

She reaches out straightening the collar of his plaid flannel before turning her head John’s way.

“Hey there, Zee,” John says finally lighting the cigarette in his mouth.

She steps into the room further just out of reach of him. “Good to see you, John,” she says. Not Constantine, John. Which he knows means maybe she’s not just here on business.

They hold each other’s eyes just looking at one another like it’s been years, because it damn near has been. A completely unsubtle cough from behind him drags their eyes away from one another unfortunately.

“Oh, um these are the boys,” John says pointing at them accordingly. “You know Gary,” he starts and Gary gives her a smile slipping around John to kiss her hand once. She rolls her eyes at him, but smiles nonetheless. “And these buffoons are Beano and Les.”

Beano and Les pull the same move as Gary, but Zatanna just snorts when they both wink at her flirtatiously. They realize pretty instantly they don’t stand a chance when she steps between them and clears most of the distance that still remains between herself and John.

“You got a minute to talk?” she says close enough that the spikes on the tips of her black boots almost make contact with him. Up this close he can tell now that the shine he saw on her lips was just a hint of gold lipstick.  

“For you? I got as many minutes as you want,” he says pulling the still burning cigarette he hasn’t even taken a single drag from yet from his lips.

She smiles at him and turns; John grabs his trench coat and follows her, Gary, Beano and Les making kissy faces and sounds as he goes. He flips them off as he steps through the door giving Chas a nod of gratitude for being the mature one here.

He guides Zatanna out through the back exit into the cool night air tossing his wasted cigarette into a puddle by the door. They walk side by side quietly for a few blocks neither of them breaking the comfortable silence, neither of them wanting to break this tentative moment between them.

They walk past a small park and Zatanna comes to a stop tilting her head towards a small picnic table covered in graffiti. John nods and they walk over to it, Zatanna sits first on one side of the bench stretching her legs out underneath it. John hesitates for a second wanting to sit on the same side of the bench, but not certain if he’s allowed to or not. She answers the uncertainty for him looking at him with a welcoming smile and a pat to the spot next to her.

He takes the invitation leaning back on the table manspreading his legs out in front of him. Zatanna snorts at the choice and turns her head to him.

“So,” she starts blinking a couple of times. The tiny flecks of glitter in her black eyeliner shine in the flickering park lights. “You started a band, huh? Bit early for a mid-life crisis,” she jokes resting her chin on her hand.

John guffaws tilting his head back. “Yeah, I figured considering the trouble I get into I was due for one a little earlier than most.”

Zatanna laughs shifting so that one leg is underneath her mindful of not catching her spiked boots on her fishnets, turning her body full towards him.

“So you took that voice of yours put your ex-boyfriend on guitar, asked to Chas to add lifting musical equipment to his resume, and picked up a sleazeball and a guy whose name is also gas pill and started jamming?”

“Pretty much,” he says tilting his head to look at her. “I had some free time on my hands.”

He doesn’t say, after you left, she doesn’t deserve that even if it’s the truth of what happened. Leaving was justified he’d nearly gotten himself, Andrew and her all killed because his ego couldn’t take being outsmarted on a plan by Batman.

She looks at him softer than he deserves.

“You’ve been killing it on the stage too I hear,” he says diverting the attention off himself. Trying not to give away just quite how often he’s checked up on her name, checked to make sure she was safe and thriving out there away from him. She’s been on a world tour as the Mistress of Magic since he last saw her.

She nods. “It’s been fun, tiring, but fun. I get to actually see places instead of just fighting a giant Cthulhu from space in the middle of Paris and then being debriefed by Superman about it,” she explains.

“So you quit the League? Both of them?” he asks, he already knows the answer, but again he’s trying not to show too many of his cards.

Zatanna scrunches up her nose shaking her hand in a so-so motion. “Kind of, I still help when they need it and the JL Dark kinda fell apart after everything.”

After he blew it all to hell, she’s kind enough not to say it even though it’s true.

“But now I’m on break from it all maybe for a good while. I just finished a second leg of the tour, helped Dinah and the girls put Deathstroke back in jail for a while and I don’t know, I thought I’d take in some new music.”

“You could have found better,” he says with a chuckle. Mucous Membrane as hard as they may rock aren’t exactly topping the charts, their covers fair far better than any of their original stuff.

She just shrugs picking at her fishnets with one hand. “I always thought you had a nice voice,” she says reaching up a hand trailing a soft finger over the litter ring pin his right eyebrow not quite touching his skin.

“That’s new,” she says tapping it once before letting her hand fall.

“Got it on a whim,” he says. He got it the first night after she left, drunk and wanting to do something that would hurt just enough to distract from the pain inside he’d only cause for himself.

“Any new tattoos?” she asks.

John smirks. “Just the one of your name on my ass.”

Zatanna laughs out loud, strong and with her whole body. “It better be in a fancy font,” she says with a playful shove to his shoulder.

“Of course. I used the one you use on all your posters,” he says with a wink. “This is new for you,” he says twisting the one cluster of loose hair at the side of her bangs that’s bright white.

“Got scared,” she says seriously and John gives her a disbelieving look.

“Okay,” she says after a few beats. “One of my stage hands tried to get me go full blonde along with her and I refused, but I gave her this bit of real estate in compromise.”

John licks his bottom lip releasing the hair. “It looks good.”

She smiles in thanks and they go quiet again.

“So how are you, really I mean?” she asks.

John just shrugs facing back out into the dark watching as a few people pass by.

“You know, life of a rockstar and all that,” he says with a heavier sigh than he intended to let out.

“That sounds lonely,” she says sympathetic. The touch of her hand to his that rests on the bench near her knee turns his head back. She twines their fingers together loosely and it takes everything in him to not just kiss her right then and there. He’s missed this, he’s missed her so goddamn much. But he doesn’t know if that’s why she’s here, he doesn’t know if a touch back is welcome.

“It can be,” he says more honest with her than he is with anyone else. He takes a deep breath, itching for a cigarette to make him a little braver right now. “How about you, really?”

“I’m happy,” she says sounding and looking truly happy. He wishes he could be the reason she looked that way. She pauses looking off to the side for a moment before meeting his eyes again. “But the weirdest thing happened. I was going out with this guy,” she says and he bites his tongue trying not to be jealous.

“And it was going fine and then one night he took me this art show, boring as shit, definitely not my thing and we ran into this friend of his and he introduces me as Zatanna, ya know the superhero,” she huffs out a laugh. “And it bugged me so much and I couldn’t place why so I’m lying in bed that night and realize it’s because everyone does that.”

“Does what?” he asks genuinely uncertain.

“They label me, I’m Zatanna the superhero or Zatanna the stage magician or the great Zatara’s kid. Which I am those things, but people I date just always seem to boil me down to one. And maybe it’s a small thing and it shouldn’t bug me so much, but those little titles they always end up shaping so much about me in their eyes,” she sighs. “So when I do something off from that title they don’t get it. I broke up with him the next day.”

John only barely hides his pleased smile.

“And then I realized you’re the only one who’s never done that to me,” she says picking up his hand and fully entwining their hands together. “I’m always just Zatanna to you, you don’t expect me to be one of those personas that make up all of me. You don’t ask me to be anything but me. And I guess I just missed getting to be that with someone that way.”

“Zee,” he says not quite certain what to say back.

“Sure there are friends who see me and all that and it probably sounds like I’m just using you for something by showing up like this when I say it that way-”

“Use me,” he interrupts a smirk on his lips, flirting with her always comes easy.

Zatanna huffs out a little laugh, but largely ignores the comment. “I’m not for the record, I just,” she takes a deep breath biting her lips once as she collects her thoughts. “I just missed you and I know things went to hell last time, but maybe it doesn’t have too again.”

It will. John’s a mess, who simultaneously can’t stand to hurt her, but always does. He wants her more than anything, even if he can’t seem to keep her because of his own stupidity. It’s a never-ending cycle of knowing she’s too good for him and he should walk away and save her the grief and never being able to actually take a step back when they find their way back to each other. She doesn’t seem to be able to step away either.

Maybe they’re both insane. The definition being you repeat the same task over and over expecting different results and maybe they are, but at least they get to be insane together.

He readjusts on the bench straddling it and scooting closer to her. He’ll do anything to have her close, for as long as he can until their lives in general or he himself screws it all up.

“You sure?” he says taking both of her hands in his. “Because I miss you more than anything and Chas never lets anyone sit in the front seat, but I’m sure he’d let you.”

Zatanna smiles with her teeth her tongue poking out in that cute way it does sometimes the answer to his question a clear yes in her shining eyes.

“He absolutely would let me, he loves me,” she says tugging him forward just a bit by the hands.

John goes willingly pressing his forehead to hers. “He’s not the only one,” he says quietly like if he says it too loud he’ll shatter this fragile moment between. This tentative restart in a sea of restarts for them.

One of these days he’d like to get it right with her. Maybe today’s that day and if it’s not well the least he can do is make sure she knows how much he cares before he ruins it.

“You sure I wouldn’t be cramping your sexy rockstar lifestyle?” she says closing her eyes. “I saw at least two men and three women who were absolutely all about it when you poured that vodka down your shirt.”

John looks at her in surprise. He had no idea she’d seen that.

“I don’t need the sexy lifestyle if you’re around,” he says sincere. “Also, you saw that?”

She nods and opens her eyes keeping their foreheads pressed together.

“So you heard the song?”

She nods again.

“How long ago did you write that?” she asks.

“Six months after we met,” he says and she pulls back just a bit with a hitch in her breath. Yeah, that’s why he never told her about it. It’s a lot of emotion packed into three verses, a couple choruses and a bridge for six months, it’s especially a lot considering he didn’t say much of any of it out loud the first time around. Some of it he still hasn’t even said aloud.  

Zatanna doesn’t ask why he never told her; she can probably tell from just one look at him.

“I like it,” she says and the air feels heavy with emotion. “That girl you sing about sounds pretty hot,” she says breaking the tension making him smile.

“Oh, she is,” he says. She leans in first and he follows suit kissing her once slowly, he can taste the bite of the whiskey he’d bet she was drinking when he first spotted her over at the bar, and convinced himself it wasn’t her, and a fruity undertone that lingers with her lipstick. He must taste like cigarettes and shitty vodka, but she doesn’t seem to mind.

They pull back after a few minutes and Zatanna licks her lips. He barely controls himself from leaning in again and pulling her body even closer to his. He will later, later when they’re not in a park and three kids walking a dog aren’t passing by whistling and telling them to get a room.

“I got a room at the motel down the street from the bar if you want to stay tonight,” he says.

“And the rest of the guys share this room?” she asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Everyone but Chas, he says were all slobs,” John explains. Admittedly it’s not ideal, but he’s kicked them all out before.

Zatanna snorts. “He’s probably right,” she says slipping out from the picnic table to stand. She holds out a hand and he stands beside her taking it. “Come on the Radisson awaits.”

They leave the park turning in the opposite direction of his band, walking in comfortable silence that’s even better than it was earlier, because now there’s not the lingering tension or question of why they’re here.

“So that ass tattoo, I mean no offense, but my name is kinda long and you’ve got kind of a flat ass,” she says with a barely contained laugh.

He looks down at her offended and she busts out in laughter. He grabs her waist and lifts her up carrying her as he continues walking which makes her laughter grown even stronger.

It’s the exact kind of laugh he wrote about in that song.

[aliceaddellheidde]

Fatum

A/N: This is for @the-ss-horniest-book-club Lucky in love. March 22 – Recognition.

WORDS: 2403 (without translation)

WARNINGS: swearing, sex innuendos, death, fighting

PAIRING: Bucky Barnes x reader (eventually) {Soulmates AU}

DISCLAIMERS: Endgame happened, but only Thanos and his peasants died. English isn´t my first language so sorry for mistakes.

Moi, Rai and Parca are genderless & are using they/their pronouns.

This is soulmates au. When you get tattoo, your soulmate gets it as well on same spot. It glows when you touch.

This is multi-chapter story. 13/19

Today would be my grandpa´s birthday. I hope he's celebrating wherever he is.

Gif from here

Divider by @rainbowkisses31

„All right, gather up.” said Steve when you walked into conference room at 3 a.m.. You sat down next to Bucky and opened green binder in front of you. „Your next mission is in Florence, Italy.” „Yes!” you screamed happily. Men in room looked at you like you were a bad kid. „What? I never been in Italy.” Steve sighted and shook his head with smirk. „Back to mission. In Florence will be big ball for all wealthy people from around the world. We got echo that Hydra´s clients will be there too. You have to infiltrate in and get more info. Names, pictures, audio. For that, you will have those special contact lenses. As we know, they want to, or already started, with experiments on humans. Tony and Bruce made tests and analysis. It´s a gas that makes people obedient and comply every order they get. Tony made you new masks. It can look like nose piercing or birthmark. You put it on your face or behind your ear. When you touch it, it will transform into full head mask.” Just now you realised Steve had small silver gem on right side of his nose. He tapped it lightly and in mere seconds he was hidden behind similar mask like Iron mans´. „Cool.” Bucky was amazed. „It´s also bullet proofed. Same as your new suits.” Steve's face appeared again. „We don’t want to risk anything.”

Then wall opened and there were two mannequins on small stage dressed as woman and man. „These are your costumes.” Steve looked at you both. „You will go as spokeswoman for some rich billionaire. Buck will be your translator.” „You speak Italian?” you asked him. „Yes. There are many things you don’t know about me yet, doll.” he smiled at you and you blushed. He still couldn’t touch you, but since that incident at the gym he changed. He did small pranks on you and you to him but it was harmless. He wasn't as annoying as before. There was more teasing and fun between you two. Even your friends saw changes in your behaviour and were mocking you about it. You both said nothing to that. Steve cleared his throat. „Ok, back to work. Y/N, you're going to wear corset underneath your dress. It transforms into your suit once activated. There are more missiles and bullets. Bucky, you gonna have watch for it. Tap twice and you have your suit. Don’t forget to tighten up you tailcoat by pulling string inside of it. That's for your clothes. Now weapons.”

Steve picked up a bracelet with oval-cut blue gemstones. „Those are small grenades. You throw it and it explode in five seconds. Earrings are as trackers.” He put little oval gem on himself and it camouflaged at his shirt and become invisible. „It can change colours?” you asked. „Yes. For now it´s blue to match your dress. Bucky has grenades as cufflinks and trackers in waistcoat buttons. Bow-tie can be used as handcuffs.” And me? I don’t have them?” „You have! There is this reverse necklace. You put it around someone's wrists and if they wanna get out of it, it gets tighter.” „Great. And what I´ll do with dress?” „Rip it off.” „What?! It´s for sure expensive!” „I'm sorry. Tony couldn’t make ones that turns into trousers and your suit will be on them. It´s only solution.” You sighed. „Ok. But it´s not fair. Bucky will be dressed underneath his suit and I´ll be naked!” „There are clothes hidden in your car. So you can change. I´m sorry Y/N.” „Yeah, yeah. I´ll have talk about woman clothing with Tony after mission.” Both men laughed. „If mission goes south, your car will be ready to take you to safe house and we will pick when it will be safe. Clint and Natasha goes as your backup. Any more questions?” You and Bucky shook your heads. „Great. You are leaving in an hour. Everything you have in those binders F.R.I.D.A.Y. has too. If you will forget something. See you later.” He left and mannequins disappeared behind the wall. You sat in silence while you were studying and memorizing informations from papers in front of you. Bucky stood up at same time as you. „I'm gonna pack my things doll. Catch you in quinjet.” You nodded and walked to your room, quickly putting some necessities in bag.

You were ready to step inside Quinjet when Steve came to you. „Y/N! Wait.” „What is it?” „We got new info. There should be one of Hydra´s main men. We need to capture him. Are you ok to do it?” „Like seduce him and then knock him off?” Steve blushed. „Yeah.” „I´ll see what I can do.” He nodded and let go of your hand.

„Y/N, you have to see that! Come here!” screamed Bucky when you walked inside the Quinjet. You went down the stairs and found him staring at white car. „It´s Rolls-Royce ghost! Can you believe it?” He was happy like small child. „It´s just a car Borky.” You rolled your eyes and went back to main floor. „I'm gonna take a nap. Wake me up when we will be over France, thanks.” You said to Natasha. You were happy Tony listened to his friends and put beds into one part of jet for long flights. Bucky walked in minutes later, but you were already sleeping and he could watch you as he was falling asleep too.

„Ok, your make-up and hair is perfect.” Natasha was satisfied with her work. „Thank you. How long is it?” „Around ten minutes.” You quickly put your attire on and went to the car.

Bucky was there, waiting for you. „Ready Miss Holland?” he asked. „Yes Mr. Tom Walton.” „Great. I have to say our fake IDs look amazing.” „I agree. You remember our story?” „Yes.” He looked at his watch. „Five minutes. You look stunning by the way.” „Thank you. You are not bad yourself.” You smirked at each other.

Back door of jet opened and car moved forward and touched road with no problem. „Good luck you two.” you heard Clint´s voice in your comm. „You hear how quiet this beast is? It´s amazing.” Bucky started talking about the car, but all you could say was that it was white inside and outside and it had stars on the inside´s roof.

After thirty minutes ride and Bucky´s talking you stopped in front of huge building. He quickly walked around the car and opened the door for you. „Thank you Tom. I´ll wait inside.” He nodded and went to park the car. You walked into ivory-gold hallway. Two huge men stood next to glass door and glared at you. You smiled at them lightly and almost jumped when someone touched your arm. „It´s only me doll.” Bucky whispered into your ear. „Thanks God.” Together you walked up to guards, showed them invitations and they let you in. „Now lets mix in and find those douchebags.”

You followed some couple into ball room. There was so many people already. „I need a drink” you said to Bucky. You ordered Manhattan and Bucky had Martini. „You shouldn’t drink when you drive.” „First of all doll, I can´t get drunk. Second of all, our car has auto-drive.” „I forgot about F.R.I.D.A.Y.. You can´t be drunk?” „Nope.” he laughed at your face. „Lucky you.” He wanted to tell you something, but was interrupted.

„Mi scusi signorina. Posso avere questo ballo?” {Excuse me Miss. Can I have this dance?} asked handsome young man. You looked at Bucky. „He wants to dance with you.” You nodded and man softly took your hand and kissed its back. „My name is Fabio.” he said with thick accent. „Vivienne.” You gave your drink and bag to Bucky and nervously walked to dance floor. You were in this house five minutes and you were already dancing. Fabio started small talk and you played along. Every time you looked at Bucky, he was staring right at you. He looked angry or maybe jealous? But you couldn’t forget at your work. After three dances you had to have a break and also look for Hydra´s scams.

„I found five agents on second floor. Nobody interesting. I guess big fishes will come later.” said Bucky to you when you sat down to bar. „Having fun with your new friend?” „Nah. He's kinda funny, but his cologne is killing my nose.” He laughed and finished his drink.

You ended up dancing with three other men before you saw group of man with proud faces walk in. They had women next to them and you swore they were dressed too risky. One in white dress, next one with whole leg revealed and last one had some see-through parts. Lady-less men were probably bodyguards. You looked at Bucky. He was looking at women with wide eyes. Suddenly you felt too boring in your navy blue, backless dress with high thigh slit. „I need another drink.” you told him, but you weren't sure he heard you. He was too busy drooling over those women. Fabio found you at the bar and asked for more dances. And you accepted.

While ordering a third drink some man walked up to you. „Ciao tesoro. Sei solo qui?” {Hi honey. Are you alone here?} he asked. „I'm sorry, but I don’t speak Italian.” You looked at him and were shocked when you realised he's your target tonight. „It´s ok Love. I asked if you are here alone.” You smiled at him sweetly. „Yes. No man in my life. Except for my driver.” you laughed and he chuckled. „Dance?” „Of course!”

You felt uncomfortable with his hand on your ass, but you were hiding it perfectly. He told you straight away he's working for world organization and they will make world better. You told him your fake story about your boss and his desire to help them with weapons. „Beautiful, young woman and she knows her guns.” „Oh, believe me. I know how to use my other guns as well.” you flirted and pressed your breasts into his chest. He looked down on them and back to you. „Can´t wait to find out.” He pushed you more to him and his hand slipped underneath your dress on your naked arse. „So firm. I bet it will bounce so beautifully as I imagine.” You almost threw up. „How about small appetizer before main course?” he asked slyly and squeezed your hip. „Can we dance little bit more? I love holding on your muscles.” „Baby, they are even better without that tailcoat.” he whispered into your ear. „Hmmm, but you can be a gentleman and wait, right?” You batted your eyes at him and smirked when you felt his bulge against your thigh. „Merda.” {Shit} You laughed, turned your back to him and pressed your ass to his crotch. His hand was on your hip, the other one was ghosting around your breast.

You survived another dance and then he was dragging you upstairs. „Where are we going?” „I can´t wait any more.” „Can we eat now? I´m bit hungry.” „No.” he growled. „You had your chance pretty face. Now it´s time for real fun.” He harshly took your face into hand and kissed you. „Those lips will be amazing around my cock.” He pressed you into wall but you pushed him back. His face turned angry. „I don’t wanna be seen by others and ruin this painting. What is it?” „Number 5 by Jackson Pollock.” You repeated it aloud. „I bet it´s expensive. But we have something better, right? Lead the way.” He roughly took your hand and walked you into big room. His bodyguards behind you. „I thought it will be only us.” You innocently touched his tailcoat´s lapel. His hand circled around your neck and he threw you on chaise. „You really thought I´ll not share slut like you.” He smiled wickedly and undid his belt. His bodyguards as well.

„Get ready doll.” you heard Bucky´s voice in your comm. Seconds later he kicked out the door. Bodyguards turned to him and he smacked them with his left arm. Man next to you took out a gun and aimed it on you. „What are you?” „Avengers, mother fucker.” You changed into your suit and jerked gun of idiot´s hand before he knew what's going on. „General Jacopo Abruzzo, you're under arrest.” „Not so quick.” He pushed some button from his pocket and you heard people screaming downstairs. „Shit! What did you do?” „What was our plan. You all will listen to Hydra now!” You angrily knocked him out and searched his clothes. Bucky was warning Natasha and Clint. To your surprise they already had ten Hydra agents. „He´s clean.” „We have to take him. Get down!” Bucky screamed when more men came upstairs in masks. „Nat, we have to get people out of here! They can´t breath that gas.” „Working on it.” There was big explosion and building shook. „Done.” She said proudly. „We have it under control here. Police coming. You two get out of here!” „Ok.” Bucky was fighting last man and you shot him. „Thanks Doll.” There were more coming from foyer. „I´ll take him. Cover me.” With that he jumped out of the window with General over his shoulder. You shot one more man and jumped out too. „F.R.I.D.A.Y. car!” you screamed. „Ready Miss Y/N.”

You had time to put handcuffs on General before Hydra´s agents were shooting at you. You quickly put him on back seat and Bucky started the car. „Safe house F.R.I.D.A.Y. and get them off from us.” „Yes Sergeant Barnes.”

There were cars exploding and some city property damaged, but you managed to escape and come to safe house. Bucky took General inside, you took your bags and F.R.I.D.A.Y. turned car invisible. There was small cellar under the house where you tied Jacopo to a chair only in his underwear, blindfolded and mute.

Tired, you didn't even realised you still have your dress and suit on. You walked into single bedroom and found Bucky standing in the middle of it. „There is only one bed.” he said plainly. „I'm taking left side.” you said fast and hurried into bathroom before he could see your red face. What you didn't know was that Bucky had same problem and his suit was too tight for him now when he realized he´ll sleep with you in same bed.

[shiisiln]

I'd love to hear any stories you might have from your time in Don Giovanni, if you've got any to share. I love watching the opera, but I've never heard what it's like to perform it.

Oh heck yeah! 

I was in the chorus for productions with the Cedar Rapids Opera Company 4 years in a row. They would bring in professional opera performers for the lead roles, and then audition for the chorus and bit parts from the community and the local college theater programs. My voice teacher got me into the auditions and they liked me enough to bring me back to sing alto parts (because there are never enough altos)

Don Giovanni was fun because there wasn’t a lot of chorus material, so we didn’t have a lot to memorize. In the first section, we played the rich socialite groupies who hung around ol’ Gio, in the second part we played the ragged poor, and in the last part we were basically zombies dragging him down into hell.

(At one point they wanted to film some promotional material so we made a video called “How many zombies can fit in a smart car?” where we all piled into one of the chorus member’s tiiiny ass car and sang our part from the finale, in full zombie regalia. Fun times.)

We had costumes and wigs provided, but we had to do our own makeup, which was always fun. My favorite memories of the opera are from just dicking around in the changing room with the other chorus members, joking and helping each other change quickly, and occasionally rocking out to Queen music in full period dress.

(I still know how to tie a bow behind my back because of all the experience I’ve had putting on faux corsets, lol.)

The dude who played Don Giovanni was great, amazing charisma and presence. (Pretty much every single Lead that we had in every production was super nice and friendly. I’m still friends with some of them on facebook, and it’s wild to see national news coverage of people who I got to be on stage with.) There was one scene where I was in a group of beggars that he casually tossed a chicken bone to, which was our cue to get offstage, and one night he accidentally chucked it with into the orchestra pit. Poor guy was very embarrassed about it, and we all had a good laugh at his expense.

I thiiink that was the year we worked on a raked stage, which meant that it’s tilted towards the audience, to give the illusion of more space. That was also the year I first had to wear heels on stage, and I was terrified the entire time that I would tumble into the pit and spear myself on a piccolo. Thankfully that never actually happened.

That was also the year that the opera got protesters! A local church group got all up in arms about it being blasphemous, and while I can understand their angle- (we had a scene where Gio is dicking around in a church and mockingly gets up in front of the cross to pretend he’s Jesus) like... the whole POINT of the story is that he’s a bad person and gets what he deserves, right? He literally gets dragged to hell in the finale.

They handed out cards saying “the wages of sin are death” and I joked with the other chorus members that that LITERALLY could have been the tagline for the whole play. 

The music is all fucking amazing too. I never really appreciated classical music until I got to sing it. It’s not very accessible to a wider audience but I absolutely recommend giving opera a try to all my listeners. Watching it live is the best experience but with covid that’s obviously not feasible, so if you can find filmed productions that would also be good. The music is definitely more enjoyable with the context of the story and characters.

(I recommend Carmen as a starting point. It was my favorite to perform and probably remains my favorite in terms of music and story.)

I’ll end this long-winded rant with a story from my last production, Turandot. The male lead sings Nessun Dorma, which Pavarotti was famous for performing (and is one of my absolute fucking favorite pieces of music). As the chorus, our job during that part is to support the lead’s voice, then fade out when he delivers his solo.

During one practice with just the chorus, we got to that point, and then every single tenor in the audience just went OFF singing the solo. It was hilarious, but also really heartwarming. You could feel how passionate they all were about the music, and about the performance. It’s a really special environment.

Thank you so much for asking! I have a very genuine love for opera and I love getting to reminisce on those performances~

[staytiny-angel]

The Demon's Lair - Part 1

Rating: E overall T for this chapter

Main Pairing - Seth Rollins/Becky Lynch (be prepared they aren't monogamous quite yet)

Warnings: Mentioned Kidnapping, Murder, hints at symptoms of PTSD, Flogging,(super vague tho, )

Summary - Seth returns to The Lair after a month away on a mercenary mission to learn things aren't quite the way he left them.

Authors Note: I don't know what the fuck happened, I swore I was just gonna write a bunch of kinky smut. That was the plan but it grew a damn plot. A real one, not just a flimsy frame but a whole ass mansion. So I'm just gonna write a story and see where it takes me. Probably gonna come up with some sort of update schedule for this, Chase and Safe Haven.

Taglist: @askauradonprep @swifteforeverandalways @rxllynch @riottbliss @nothingbutmeworld @axelwolf8109 @biforbecky2belts @neversatisfiedgirl @superrezzy00 @nicolewoo

Seth exited his town car in the dim Brooklyn alley stretching and cracking his neck, stiff after an 11-hour day behind his desk, followed by 7 hours passed out on his office couch "Pick you up at 3 like always Mr. Rollins?" his driver asked.

"Yes, thank you Joey" Seth responded, handing the man a hundred dollar bill, "Why don't you pick up Jamie and the two of you have a nice dinner on me while you wait?"

"I think he'll like that, thank you, Mr. Rollins, Sir" Joey replied before pulling off and leaving Seth at a blood-red door with black script reading The Demon's Lair.

Seth both loved and hated the Lair. In many ways, the kink club was the only place he felt like himself. Where he could drop the facade he wore in his professional life and even with his family to an extent, but he hated it too. He hated that even though he felt so at home there and had plenty of wonderful friends and sometimes lovers…nobody seemed to want to keep him.

Breaking out of his increasingly morose thoughts, Seth used his member's card to unlock the door to the Lair and slipped inside. He'd been in the Middle East for several weeks, meaning he'd been 'On' the entire time and was absolutely looking forward to taking off his mask and letting the real Seth out to play.

"Sethie!" The pink-haired girl at the front desk yelled in happiness "I missed you!"

"Sup, Livvy" Seth replied with an easy grin as all the tension seemed to drop off his shoulders as he mentally locked the corporate shark in its tank for the next 6 hours.

The hyperactive submissive had standing permission from her Domme to hug on Seth whenever she wanted so she dashed around the desk and practically tossed herself into the older man's arms. "Miss Ruby said you were in the bad place for the last month so all the hugs for you," she says quietly

"Thank you sweetie pie," Seth whispered in her ear. "I'm just glad to be back," He says louder letting go of her. "So what I miss, any dirt?" he asks as he strips off his suit jacket and tie and then rolls up his sleeve.

"So we finally met Master Balor's mysterious protege." She tells her friend as she takes his cuffs out of a locked case beneath the desk.

"He told me he had asked her to come here. Something about a bad break up." Seth replied, "What's she like?"

"Miss Rebecca is here tonight tending the bar since Devvie is back in school right now, she has a thicker accent then Master Balor's, bright orange hair and she's really pretty. " Liv continues

Seth easily buckles the black leather cuffs with their inlaid red hearts onto his wrists, brushing his thumb over the words worked into the leather "Who's around that might want to play with me?"

"Master Balor and Miss Violet are waiting for you. Miss Renee tattled on you, babe." Liv says with a smile "Naughty Sethie you were supposed to go home and sleep." She teases wagging a finger at him "Now you're in tro-uble" she sings

Seth huffed and muttered under his breath "Bossy fucking Doms." While he, Finn and Violet weren't a permanent triad, the two switches did take care of him, trying to make sure the workaholic took care of himself at least somewhat. And since the pair had quite literally kept Seth from drinking himself to death after his 3 tours in Afghanistan, he did try least try to listen to them. Not that it always happened but at least he TRIED.

Liv shook her head and giggled "Yeah, have fun with that. I've got the desk for another hour and then its Moxie's turn.

Seth walked into the club properly and looked to see who was around, heading over toward the fireplace when he caught a glimpse of his Personal Assistant sitting in a club chair, her two submissives sitting at her feet. Easily kneeling alongside Roman and Mox, he smirked up at her "You are a goddamn tattletale, Miss Renee."

Renee Moxley tapped her boss's nose with the riding crop in her left hand, "You were supposed to go back to the penthouse and sleep when you got back from Saudi Arabia. Instead, you spent 11 hours in the office, of course, I told them"

"Finn and Violet are waiting for you downstairs, you have a demon to contend with."

"Son of a bitch, really?" Seth's head dropped. "Fuck, Fuck, Fuck. He's THAT pissed at me?"

"You passed out in the office from exhaustion AGAIN." Roman told his best friend quietly "I had to pick your ass up off the floor and put you on the couch. Did you really think no one was gonna tell the only two people you MIGHT listen to?"

Renee gestured with the crop for Seth to stand up, "Go on, don't keep them waiting" the Domme told him sternly

Now knowing that he was in deep shit, Seth quickly headed to the stairs, only casting a distracted look at the orange-haired woman behind the bar talking to Master Orton and Ember Moon.

When Seth entered Finn and Violet's private dungeon he gulped audibly because sitting in the plush red and black throne like a chair with Violet on his lap wasn't his slightly goofy friend Finn, but King Balor in full on warpaint.

"Oh…look Mon Roi, it's a naughty kitten," The blue-haired woman dressed in a black and red corset, stockings and tall heeled boots said quietly

"Kneel, Little Prince," Balor orders "and explain why Lady Renee called to tell me you disobeyed one of the few things we ask of you"

"My Liege, I slept on the plane on the way home. By the time I arrived in New York my inbox was full, I figured I would work for a few hours and then go home, but I lost track of time and the next thing I knew Moxley was waking me saying you had requested my presence"

"Kitten, we are not your Masters, but you requested this arrangement to help you stay healthy and safe after last summer's incident," Violet says quietly "Yet you disobeyed. Lady Renee said that Roman had to pick you up off of your office floor because you passed out. She had your private doctor come and check you and you didn't even wake up. You aren't taking care of yourself"

Seth opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by Balor "Not another word Little Prince, you know very well you've earned yourself quite the punishment"

'Well, fuck' Seth thought to himself as he knelt in front of the throne after having been stripped of his black dress shirt and his hands cuffed behind his back as Violet circled him holding a flogger, Balor still sitting there watching avidly.

"This was supposed to be your welcome home present." She sighed "But someone decided to be a bad little prince"

"I'm sorry my Queen" Seth mumbled "This last mission…it was a lot."

"You are supposed to tell us when you feel these urges to work yourself half to death. Especially after solo missions, was that not the agreement that was made after you almost….left us last year?" Balor says quietly, voice filled with emotion

Seth winced at the mention of last summer, It had been a workday much like today but instead of someone picking him up, he'd tried to drive himself home. Seth had fallen asleep at the wheel and the subsequent accident had nearly ended his life. Now Seth never drove himself after long days at work and he'd hired Joey and his husband Jamie to be his drivers.

"Do you know how scared we were? Renee called us and said you were on the floor, not moving" Violet told him "Are you injured from your mission other then the scrapes and bruises I see?"

"No your majesty" Seth answered quietly

"Then 20, Little Prince. 10 from each of us" then we'll go upstairs to the bar and you can meet Rebecca. You will be nice about showing her your ways. Or we'll end up right back down here. Understand?" Balor commanded

"Yes My Liege" Seth replied quietly

Seth barely heard the whistle of the flogger before the first blow hit his back.

His King and Queen didn't have to know that at least for this time he'd pushed himself on purpose, wanting to not think about what he'd had to do to get a young girl back to her family, He rarely took on mercenary missions himself anymore for this very reason. The damage the killing and violence took took on his mental health was terrible and he wasn't coping well but his mother…his mother had asked a favor for a friend of a friend who's daughter had been kidnapped.

So Seth went and a month later he'd returned. The girl alive, her captor and his people very much dead and he with more blood-soaked memories he'd prefer not to have.

[kbericadurancehotmt-blog1]

Mad Style

Wonderland is a brand new scene. Alice's waking life was set securely in the Victorian era with lace chocked corsets, perfect curls, and spotless gloves. But just a few bunny hops away, the scene down the rabbit hole was getting wild. Nothing is boring in this underworld.  Those buttoned-up Victorian morals? They simply don't apply. The world is full of vibrant talking flowers, magical cookies that will change your size, and power enraged queens, they don't have time for salad forks and fainting couches. And the fashion-forward leader of this kaleidoscopic kingdom? The Mad Hatter! The Mad Hatter has a crazy look with checkers, hearts, and vibrant colors.This is someone who knows how to rock a mad look. She's shaking things up in this underground dreamworld. When you're dressed in this Mad Hatter costume any party you hold will be a tea party that no one is ever going to forget. 

Product Details

You'll feel like a mad boss in this gorgeous dress with its layered skirt with a purple peplum topper, diamond-patterned fabric, and a retro card pattern that matches the card patterned train. The velvet bodice has a diamond-patterned front inset panel with purple polka doted decorative buttons. The dress is topped with a purple-trimmed brown velvet shrug with attached card patterned bow tie that ties the whole ensemble together. 

Rocking Wonderland

It doesn't take long to feel at home with the March Hare and the dormouse when you're wearing a look as wild as this one! It's perfect for Wonderland themed parties, performances, or a Halloween costume that you could wear solo or with a group. Pair up with Alice and the Queen of Hearts to make the most of this season's whimsies. And for once, you can let your freak flag fly freely. After all, everyone knows that you all are mad down in Wonderland! 

[sushigirlali]

The Politics of Dancing - Part II (Reylo Fanfic)

Part I - Part II - Part III - Part IV

Summary: Ben has known Rey most of her life, but when things change between them one tumultuous night, can he convince her that they have a future? Or will secret legacies, scheming parents, and fetching suitors get in the way?

Parings: Rey + Ben Solo|Kylo Ren, Finn + Rose Tico

Continuity: Regency AU

Rating: E

A/N: Sorry for the wait, friends, I haven’t been feeling very inspired lately. The Tumblr apocalypse and subsequent drop in activity has got me down. On the bright side, this story is now going to be a three-parter. This chapter was getting really long, so I decided to split it up. Enjoy!

Master list –> AO3 | ff.net | Tumblr 

——————

The Politics of Dancing - Part II

By: sushigirlali 

——————

London, December 1818

——————

Peering over the rim of her crystal wine glass, Rey slowly sipped the sweet red liquid in lieu of answering Lady Shara Bey’s probing questions. Poe’s mother could be a little pushy, but Rey was too used to Leia’s brand of brazen self-confidence to be excessively offended by her lack of tact.

“Really, my dear, you must come visit Yavin after the new year,” Shara simpered. “We have the most picturesque landscapes and historical homes, not to mention a great number of fashionable neighbors to dine with.”

“Thank you for the invitation, but my father and I have plans to stay in town through Easter,” Rey said noncommittally, finishing her glass and signaling Artoo for another. I wonder if anyone would notice if I just kept the bottle. “Maybe another time, though,” she added, not wanting to sound ungrateful.

Appearing disappointed but not discouraged, Shara tried a new approach. “Did you know my son was recently titled Viscount of Yavin? His father will retain the title of Earl until his death, at which point the name will be bestowed upon Poe.”

Rey slanted her friend a look, trying not to laugh at his pained expression. “Congratulations, my lord.”

“He’s also incredible marksman, you know. I don’t think I’ve ever seen his equal. In these dangerous times, it would certainly be reassuring to have someone as capable as him by your—”

“Rey can shoot just as well as any man,” Poe interrupted brusquely. “So, I don’t think she’s in need of a protector.”

“And what would you know about the needs of women?” Shara snapped, putting Poe on the defensive.

“Mother, can we not—”

Covering her friend’s hand where it rested on the table, Rey stepped in to head off a confrontation. “Poe understands me quite well, and I him, so there’s no need to be insulting, madam. He’s a credit to your house, whether you want to acknowledge it or not.”

Lady Bey rounded on Rey, but their hostess cut her off before she could make a retort.

“Shara, would you mind switching seats with my husband?” Leia requested, seeming to materialize out of thin air. “I would so love to catch up with you.”

Leia’s tone was friendly, but her steely gaze made it clear that she wasn’t asking.

“I—yes, Leia, that would be lovely,” Shara said stiffly, dropping her napkin as she stood. “If you’ll excuse me, Lady Niima.” She gave her son a small nod. “Poe, I’m…I’ll see you later.”

He inclined his head, but didn’t speak again until she was out of earshot. “Thanks, Rey,” he said under his breath.

“No problem,” she returned, giving his hand a comforting squeeze.

Following Leia and Shara’s progress toward the head of the table, Rey was unsurprised to find Ben staring in her direction. What did surprise her, however, was the automatic rush of heat that raced up her spine just from making eye contact with the man.

Tilting her head, Rey studied his unique features, admiring the way his inky black hair fell wild around his pale face, the silky strands sticking out at odd angles were her searching fingers had sifted through them earlier. He wasn’t classically handsome, not in the way Poe was, but Rey found his too large ears and deep-set eyes and slightly crooked nose ridiculously tempting.

Not to mention that scar, she hummed, tracing the faded mark with appreciative hazel orbs.

He’d been a hellraiser in his youth, and she’d idolized him because of it. So many society men were afraid to be themselves, to be real, but not Ben Solo. He was outspoken and honest, even when he probably shouldn’t be. If she’d been a man, Rey liked to think that she would have followed in Ben’s footsteps.

Well, maybe not literally, she allowed, sizing him up. His height and build were so far out of the norm that he stood out in any room. Especially tonight.

Ben looked dashing in his neatly tailored black coat and trousers, the custom-made vestments showing off his long legs and broad shoulders to perfection. Still, Rey couldn’t help but picture his powerful body stripped of all finery on black sheets, just the way she’d seen him last night.

So manly, so beautiful…

The longer she surveyed him, the more she wanted to crawl across the table and slide into his lap; to feel his thickly muscled arms wrapped around her again as she devoured those sinfully full lips…

Get ahold of yourself, Rey! she chided, feeling her nipples stiffen behind the thin fabric of her chemise. Now is not the time to be letting your imagination run wild!

But it was too late. As if sensing her wicked thoughts, Ben’s dark gaze fell to her breasts, scraping across her taut peaks like he owned them. Why did I decide to forego a corset again? Cursing her lack of appropriate undergarments, Rey crossed her arms and prayed that he was the only one who’d noticed her wanton behavior.

Stop looking at me like that, she mouthed, fighting down the heat rising in her cheeks.

No, he replied with a smug smile, obviously amused by her blatant response.

Why, you—

“Hey, kid!”

Rey jumped as Han dropped into Lady Bey’s empty seat. “Uncle!”

“Sorry about that,” Han chortled, patting her on the shoulder, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s quite alright, sir,” she said, playfully wrinkling her nose at him. Maybe I should tie a bell around your neck just in case, though. That’s twice now you’ve snuck up on me tonight, a third time could be disastrous.

“And you, Lord Dameron, how is your evening going?” Han courteously inquired.

“Whatever the opposite of festive is,” Poe deadpanned, lifting his glass in salute.

“Yes, the atmosphere is rather tense for a yuletide celebration,” Han said jovially, reaching past Rey to click his glass against the Viscount’s. “I apologize for any consternation you might have felt due to my wife’s meddling. She can be a bit overzealous when it comes to the art of matchmaking.” He threw a wink at Rey. “Especially where my darling niece is concerned.”

“Uncle,” she groaned, “not you too!”

“Now, now, Rey, I just think—” Han stopped short as See-Threepio dragged a serving cart laden with at least five different cuts of meat and several sauces into the room. “I just think we should talk about this after dinner. Heaven forbid we let all this incredible food go to waste!”

Saved by the second course!

Rey thought irreverently.

Good thing Han prefers food to lectures…

——————

Gripping his goblet tightly enough to shatter it, Ben glared at the perfect picture his lover made sitting next to Lord Dameron: her pretty white dress and sun-kissed complexion playing nicely off his black hair and formal attire. Rey and the newly appointed Viscount looked good together and he hated it.

Since when are they more than mere acquaintances, anyway? he sulked, annoyed by how well they seemed to be getting on. What could they possibly have in common? Ben’s brow furrowed as Rey slid her hand over Dameron’s. And why the hell is she touching him?!

While they weren’t enemies per se, the older man had been a thorn in his side since university. Popular more for his personality than his wealth, something Ben had always been sensitive about, Poe had been his rival in everything from fencing to making friends, but up until tonight, they’d never pursued the same woman.

First Johnson, now Dameron, Ben frowned. Is Rey friendly with every eligible bachelor in the county? How many other men do I have to compete with?

Unused to feeling anything but supreme confidence, Ben tried to reign in his riotous emotions. It wasn’t Rey’s fault that he’d been supplanted as her dinner date, after all, that honor belonged to his interfering mother. Having long given up trying to arrange the love life of her only son, it appeared that Leia had moved onto her niece. Unfortunately for the Skywalker matriarch, Rey had a mind of her own.

Good luck, mother. That little spitfire has an independent streak a mile wide and I very much doubt you’ll be able to exert influence over any facet of her life. Ben took a thoughtful swig of ale. Besides, Rey would never allow herself to be bullied into anyone’s bed. She’s always been adamant that only the deepest love would induce her into…into…oh!

All at once, Ben realized that sneaking into his room had been a declaration of sorts, an admittance of Rey’s feelings and intentions toward him. At the time, he’d been too eager to possess her to pick up on the significance of her actions, but now, recalling the way Rey’s beautiful body had tangled with his, practically shouting how much she loved him, Ben felt like a fool for not being more perceptive.

We made love from one side of the room to the other, locked together for endless hours in our own little world and yet, somehow, I failed to see the sentiment behind her surrender. Ben marveled at his own stupidity. But what does she want long-term? To become my mistress? My wife? Or was last night just a passing fancy?

He supposed he should be wary of getting in too deep too fast, but he wasn’t. Beyond her boldness in the bedroom, Rey’s jealousy on the dance floor and subsequent ardor on the veranda gave credence to the notion that she felt more than simple desire for him.

Is this love then? he mused. It could be. We’re good together. Ben paused. No, better than good. We’re fantastic together. Amazing, even. Hell, we barely took time to breath let alone consider the consequences, and I…I…oh, shite! Ben cursed as realization struck. I completely neglected to take precautions with her!

Regardless of who bewitched whom, Rey had come to his bed untouched, putting the onus on him to protect her from potential repercussions. But he hadn’t; he’d put her at risk. She could be carrying my child even now. I want her, but am I ready for that kind of responsibility? he wondered.

Only vaguely aware of his mother standing up beside him and moving around the table to speak with Lady Bey, Ben allowed himself to envision what life would be like with Rey by his side. They could ride together, like when they were younger, read to each other in the library, have hours long discussions over dinner…and make love every night. There was so much he could teach her, so much she could teach him…and if she was pregnant, well…

The more he mulled over the idea, the less terrifying the prospect of fatherhood became. We might have twins, a boy to going shooting with Rey and a girl to practice calligraphy with me. They’d have freckled cheeks and dark hair and big hazel eyes…

As the appealing image formed in his mind, Ben decided that irrespective of what his mother or Luke had in mind, the only way Rey was getting engaged to someone other than him this holiday season was over his dead body.

——————

For as long as she’d known Ben Solo, he’d never been one to wear his heart on his sleeve. But in the past few hours, he’d admitted to being jealous of Finn, nearly seduced her on the dance floor and then on the patio, and now he was giving Poe dark looks as well.

What is going on? Rey stared down at her plate, pushing her venison around without really seeing it. It’s not like we’re engaged or anything, and he hasn’t once mentioned love, so why is he acting so territorial? I need to get him alone again and—

“I wonder what’s wrong with Lord Ren this evening,” Poe said, voicing her concerns.

Rey schooled her features, hoping no one else had noticed Ben’s strange behavior. “I have no idea what you mean.”

“Don’t you? Ren looks like he’s contemplating murder every time he glances in my direction. Have I done something wrong or is the wild mushroom soup not to his liking?” he inquired.

“Well, he does hate mushrooms,” she said drolly. I’m not sure how he feels about you, though.

“I’ll just assume the soup is the most likely culprit, then,” Poe chuckled. “What a relief! I wouldn’t want to be on the wrong side of my old schoolmate; he’s a real fire-eater.”

“You have no idea,” Rey mumbled, knowing full well how it felt to burn up in Ben’s arms.

Something in her tone must have given her away because Poe looked suddenly suspicious. “Is there something you want to tell me about you and Lord Ren?”

“There’s nothing to tell,” she denied, glad that Han appeared to be lost in conversation with Baroness Kanata. Please, keep him busy for me, Maz, because I don’t think Poe is going to let this go.

“No? Judging by your behavior, and Ren’s, there seems to have been a development in your relationship since the last time we spoke,” he said speculatively.

“You’re just imagining things,” Rey gulped, reaching for her wine. He’s definitely not going to let this go.

“Careful, love,” Poe cautioned, gently steadying her hand to keep her from knocking over the nearly full glass of claret.

“Thanks,” she said sheepishly, setting it down again without taking a sip.

“You’re welcome.” Then, more seriously, “Even if you don’t want to tell me now, just know that you can always confide in me, Rey. I’m no gossip.”

“I know,” she replied solemnly. “You’ve trusted me with so much about your own life, but I—I’m scared. I did something brash last night, something that could have lasting consequences...”

“Rey, I’m sure whatever you did is—”

“I seduced Ben,” Rey confessed in a rush. “I don’t know what came over me, but I went into his room and took my nightgown off and I—we—and it was wonderful—but now he’s acting strange and possessive and I don’t know what to do!”

Poe hid it well, but she could tell that she’d shocked him. “You went to him?”

Rey squared her shoulders, determined to take responsibility for her actions. “I did.”

“And he didn’t turn you away?” he said in surprise.  

She shook her head, puzzled. “Should he have?”

“Not necessarily,” Poe said without judgement. “Ren must want you very much to risk being ostracized by his own family, though.”

“How do you mean?”

“I can’t imagine Lord Skywalker will be pleased that his nephew deflowered his adoptive daughter,” he said bluntly.

“But it wasn’t Ben’s fault!” she protested. “I seduced him, remember?!”

“Rey, Ren is a man. An experienced man, at that. I can assure you that it will matter very little to your father whether you initiated the situation or not,” Poe said plainly. “Skywalker may not be very traditional, but he’s still your guardian.”

“Oh, I…hadn’t thought about it that way,” Rey grimaced. “What should I do then? I can’t imagine not seeing Ben anymore, but I don’t want to hurt Luke either.”

“As long as you’re discreet, I wouldn’t worry about it too much about it for now,” he offered. “Your father doesn’t strike me as particularly perceptive when it comes to matters of the heart.”

“No, he’s not,” she agreed. “There’s always been something between Ben and I, a special connection as it were, but I don’t think Luke has ever noticed.” Rey relaxed a little. “Thanks, Poe.”

He waved away her gratitude, looking mischievous. “So…” he muttered, leaning close, “did you enjoy yourself?”

“That’s none of your business!” she blushed, surveying the table to make sure no one was listening, least of all her wayward relatives.

“Of course it’s not,” Poe conceded, lowering his voice. “But did you?”

Rey bit her lip, vacillating on whether or not she should answer.

“Oh, come on, it’s not like I’m going to repeat anything you say, no matter how raunchy.”

“I know you won’t,” she sighed, playing along. “Alright, yes. I enjoyed myself. Immensely.”

“And he didn’t hurt you?”

“No!” she exclaimed. “No, the experience was…umm…satisfying.”

“Good.”

“Is that all?” Rey said sarcastically. “Any other personal details you’d like to know?”

“Just one,” he said dryly. “Do you want to sleep with him again?”

“Poe!”

“In for a penny, in for a pound?” he grinned.

“Well, I—I wouldn’t say no,” she stammered.

“And what about him? Do you think he still wants you too?”

“I don’t know,” she said evasively.

“Rey.”

“Maybe?”

“You don’t know?” he teased. “I could always go ask Ren directly, I suppose.”

“Don’t you dare!” she yelped. “Yes, okay?! Happy now?”

“Are you?” Poe asked rather pointedly.

Rey was quite for a moment, caught off-guard. “You know, I think I am,” she said in amazement. “I think Ben’s wanted me for a long time; maybe even as long as I’ve wanted him. He was careful to never let on, you see, but by the way he performed last night…”

“Then you know what you have to do,” he said with a playful wink.  

“I do?” she said bemusedly.

“Really, Rey?” Poe rolled his eyes. “If you’d like to continue your…relationship, I suggest you ask Lord Ren to make an honest woman out of you first.”

“Marriage?” she gasped.

“Is there another word for satisfying your natural urges without societal contempt?”

“But I’m nobody,” Rey asserted. “Why would Ben want to marry me?”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” he said sternly. “Earl Johnson said you’ve been made Luke’s legal heir. If that doesn’t make you more attractive on the marital market, I don’t know what will.”

“But I don’t want him—or anyone—to fancy me simply because I may or may not be inheriting a fortune,” she frowned. “And I really do wish Finn would stop spreading that rumor around. I haven’t even discussed it with—”

Rey stopped speaking as Artoo came around to remove their dinner plates and set the table for dessert.

“Buck up, darling.” Poe pushed back his chair. “You’ve always felt a special connection with Ren, right? I’m sure he feels it too.”

“Perhaps, but where are you going,” she said sharply.

“The loo,” he laughed. “Sorry, love, but nature calls.”

Rey worried her lip. “But what if Ben approaches me while you’re gone?”

“I’m sure you can handle him, Rey. You’re no shrinking violet.”

“I know,” she snorted. “It’s just…he makes me so crazy sometimes that I want to—”

“Kiss him? Marry him? Bear his children?”

“Now that would be telling.” 

——————

A/N: I’m actually kind of hoping that the title to EPIX is such a spoiler that they’re not even going to tell us what it is! I don’t know, I just think it would be super exciting to go into the movie with a little surprise dropped into the title scrawl XD Thanks for reading! Please review! 

[alvadee]

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The song that follows after Elisabeth visists a madhouse in Act II and encounters a female patient there who believes she is the Empress of Austria.

 Maybe my personal favorite solo song by Elisabeth because it expresses a more complicated inner turmoil than “Ich gehör nur mir” does and I find it fascinating with which striking metaphors it achieves that. 

Irrenhaus Ballade // Nichts Nichts, gar nichts

Madhouse Ballad // Nothing, nothing, absolutely nothing

I really wish I were you, In a straitjacket instead of a corset. They only tie up your body but they enchain my soul. I have fought and gained everything I have through stubbornness, and what have I achieved?

Nothing, nothing, absolutely nothing. Because the only solution would be madness and the only salvation would be to fall. Now the abyss tempts me. I would like to let myself fall -why do I shudder to jump?

If I were not doomed to be Elisabeth I would be Titania. And would smile when they say, "She is crazy!" I walk a tightrope and fear makes me sick, for when I look down I see nothing, nothing, absolutely nothing.

I feel my way forward with a searching step and am always afraid of the nothing, nothing, absolutely nothing! The only possibility of becoming truly free is probably madness. But for madness I lack the courage. So I play the strong one and do what I do, as if this life were more than delusion, falsehood, deception. As if nothing, nothing, nothing at all were enough.  

[tworking711]

Dua Lipa's Brit Awards outfits channel UK pop icons

Dua Lipa channeled UK pop icons Geri Halliwell and Amy Winehouse as she sported both a Union Jack ensemble and a towering beehive at the Brit Awards Tuesday evening. The singer seemingly paid tribute to two of the awards' most iconic outfits, arriving in a look that evoked one of Winehouse's red carpet appearances before nodding to Ginger Spice's famous British flag dress during her performance.Dua Lipa performs on stage during at the 2021 Brit Awards. Credit: Dave J Hogan/Getty ImagesLipa won British Female Solo Artist and British Album of the Year, for "Future Nostalgia," at the annual awards, which are the UK's equivalent to the Grammys. She also performed a medley of hits wearing a Union Jack-printed outfit that appeared to reference one of the most memorable Brit Awards moments of all time.Lipa's Union Jack overcoat and wrap miniskirt bore a strong resemblance to Spice Girl Geri Halliwell's famed micro dress, which became an international sensation in 1997. She later removed the jacket to reveal a corset layered over an oversized black tie and white collared shirt.เว็บพนัน