she runs a Bakery
One of the few things I haven’t minded about Frozen's success is the fact that it's helped Idina Menzel make a stronger leap from stage-fame to more mainstream-fame than the film version of RENT or her stint on Glee did.
Still, while “Let it Go” is a decent song - largely because of Idina’s powerhouse voice - it’s basically a poor man’s “Defying Gravity”.
So those of you who love “Let it Go” but have yet to hear the original Broadway recording of “Defying Gravity”, listen and experience a powerful, life-changing eargasm.
its not a good joke if u dont get smacked for it.
My first time writing this pairing, so I hope this is ok!
"Help me zip this up," Belgium asked, pushing her bottom into Hungary’s waiting hands.
Hungary brushed the hair from Belgium’s shoulder and kissed a path up the lovely curve of her throat, admiring the pretty picture they made in Belgium’s bedroom mirror, Hungary still naked and flush with the memory of those pretty green eyes gazing at her from between the spread of her thighs. Hungary shook her head and held on tight.
"I think I’ll pass."
Belgium narrowed her eyes, all too knowing and far too beautiful to be anything but as wicked just the way Hungary liked when she swiped two fingers over her kiss-bitten lips and murmured:
"Really, to be so uncharitable, I’m shocked."
Hungary watched Belgium’s fingers move to her ears, painted nails putting earrings in their proper place. She touched her lips the gold that now dripped from Belgium’s lobe and allowed a single hand to shift from swaying hips to the small of the back she’d tasted only hours ago, when Belgium had spread for her so sweetly.
"If you insist," Hungary said, pinching the zipper between thumb and finger, moving it up-up-up until the delicate line of Belgium’s back was hidden beneath red satin.
"I do." Belgium reached for her lipstick.
Hungary dropped her hand from the traitorous zipper, kept her eyes on the pink that now slowly licked its way across Belgium’s lips and curled her fingers around the hem of the dress that covered the expectant rise and fall of Belgium’s breasts.
"Its not like this is any sort of obstacle," Hungary said into the tilt of Belgium’s neck, hands dipping under the folds of the dress and sweeping up stocking covered thighs. Hungary stroked a fingertip over the wetness that she could still taste on the tip of her tongue.
Belgium’s eyes closed, painted lips fell open as she said, “You’ll make me late.”
Hungary laughed, slipped one finger inside and kissed the flush of Belgium’s cheek. “Probably a good thing, since you forgot to put on underwear.”
this is my linen closet, *shows you some towels*
and this is my lenin closet *shows you communist propaganda*
Fact: If there were a button I could press to make Sir Patrick Stewart a regular fake news correspondent I would never stop pressing it