#Arianna Lace

[omnipointmuses]

Cue Arianna gently pushing your muse down onto the ground and making biscuits on them.

[b0t0xbrat]

[B0T0XBRAT]Coquette Angels

The winner of poll was the theme “coquette” so I wanted to make something that was reminiscent of old victoria’s secret lingerie and felt very ethereal and dreamy but still wearable!

This Collection:

-Arianna Dress

-Desire Dress

-Kate Dress

-Perfume Dress

-Plié Lace Heels

-Precious Top

-Princessa Top

-Soireé Bolero

Download

[onetimetwotimesthreetimess]

“Max, can you get some more cold water?” Rafael asks in a worried voice.

“On it,” Max replies and immediately runs to the washroom to get some more cold water.

The second he comes back, Rafael takes the bucket and dips the towel in the water. He places the towel on Ari’s head like he’s been doing for the past two hours to bring her temperature down.

“It’s not coming down, is it?” Max asks, his voice laced with concern as he touches his sister’s forehead which is still burning up. 

Rafael takes out the thermometer from her mouth and checks the digits.

“103.2 degrees.” 

“Fuck. I think we need to call reinforcements.”

“I’m fine,” Ari slurs from where she’s cocooned under a dozen blankets in the best, “Don’t call dad and Bapak.”  

Rafael sighs, “Arianna, we need to inform them. They’ll be so mad if we don’t inform them that you’re sick.” 

Ari’s been sick for two days and her temperature has only increased slowly. It doesn’t seem to lower any time soon even though they’ve tried everything. 

“I’m always sick, Rafe. There’s nothing new. But Bapak and Dad have gone on a vacation after a long time. Please don’t call them,” Ari requests and Rafael exhales heavily, he’s never been good at refusing her anything. 

She seems to know that and has exploited the information to her advantage her entire life. 

Max jumps into the bed next to her and snuggles close to her but Ari gently shoves at him.

“Max, no. You’ll get sick too.”

“I won’t. I never get sick. I’m superior than all you weak ass bitches.”

Rafael rolls his eyes at Max—knows that Max takes his health seriously and never lets himself get sick so that their parents never have to worry about him.

He’s been doing the same his entire life too. 

One child with a heart disorder is enough for dad and Bapak to deal with for a lifetime. 

Max forcefully cuddles against Ari’s side and she shifts to put her head on his shoulder, sighing softly.

Her face scrunches up in pain for her a second but she easily masks it, but Rafael notices it nonetheless. 

Ari has always been the best at hiding her pain. A lifetime of pain caused by her body has made her excellent at doing so. 

Rafael opens the drawer and takes out the next dose of medications and passes it over to her. 

“I don’t want more. They make me too drowsy.”

“You will take them or I’m calling Bapak.”

“Bapak and not dad. Rafael’s calling out the big guns,” Max comments with a grin on his face. 

They wait for another two hours for her fever to come down, during which she throws up three times. Rafael hates it. Max hates it.

Ari hates it as well.

The panic in his chest rises and he exchanges a look with Max, becoming him to come outside.

Max nods and excuses himself to get out of the room, but Arianna has always been too good at noticing everything so she calls them out. 

“I know you’re going to talk to me behind my back.” She complains. 

“We always talk behind your back, Ari. There’s nothing new there,” Max replies.

Ari huffs. “No you don’t. I’m the favorite sibling.”

Rafael snorts at that and replies, “Max is the favorite sibling. And we all know that.” 

Max snorts at that and a smug smile appears on his face, “Damn right, Rafe. Max Lightwood-Bane, the favorite child and the favorite sibling.”

“That’s pushing it too far, Max. Rafael would be the favorite child.” Ari retorts back.

Rafael shakes his head in fondness. They’ve been doing it since they were kids, trying to figure out who the favorite kid is.

According to Dad and Bapak, there is none. 

But everyone else thinks otherwise.

“What am I? Chopped liver?” Ari pouts. “Was I picked up from the trash can or something? I’m being discriminated for not sharing DNA with my parents,” she comments dramatically.

Max laughs at the words, “You cannot use that card on the two of us. We’re also adopted, Ari.”

“Funny that out of the three times, they only chose to adopt once and that turned out to be the worst headache for them.”

Both Rafael and Max’s head turn immediately at the words and a frown appears on their faces. 

“What?”

“What? Nothing?”

“Ari?”

“Rafe?”

“Max?”

“Why are we all taking each other’s names?” Rafael rolls his eyes.

“I don’t know.”

Ari puts up a hand in the air, “it’s weird that the two of you are named after dead people.” 

Max gives her a pointed look, “She’s deflecting.”

“I’m not.”

“You are,” Rafael says sternly. “We heard you.”

Ari rolls her eyes and fuck, Rafael thinks, she’s a spitting image of dad when she does that. 

Rafael suddenly misses dad and his warmth, he always misses dad when someone he loves says something dark and self deprecating—and he doesn’t know how to help them. 

He almost wants to call him but Ari is right, they’ve gone on a vacation after a long time.

They deserve the break.

And he’s fucking 19 years old, he should be able to handle a sick sibling. 

“Don’t give me that look, Rafael. You don’t scare me.”

Rafael sighs and gathers himself for an argument but Max intervenes. 

“Arianna Lightwood-Bane, I dare you to repeat what you just said,” Max threatens and Ari rolls her eyes at that. 

That girl is so fucking stubborn, Rafael doesn’t know how Bapak and Dad deal with her when she’s fighting with them to go on her adventure sports trips.

Max continues staring at her sternly and Ari finally sighs which means she’s ready to talk.

Rafael wonders how Max is the one who can always get Ari to talk. Not dad, not Bapak. 

It’s always Max.

“I’m just feeling a little dark today. Ignore me.”

Rafael opens his mouth but Ari interrupts, “Please. We can talk tomorrow. I just want Rafe cuddles right now.”

He knows she’s trying to manipulate him but he melts anyways and agrees.

“You are so weak, Rafe,” Max huffs.

“Shut up, Blue.“

Rafael and Max cuddle next to her and turns on the TV.

They’re currently laying in their parent’s bedroom so the bed has enough space for all of them to lie comfortably. 

He misses his classes for the next three days and Max skips his music sessions to care for Ari.

Her temperature comes down a little by the time Dad and Bapak return from their trip to the Big Bear Lake. 

“What’s going on?” That’s the first words that leaves Dad’s mouth when he returns.

Considering the condition of their room, filled with tissue papers and buckets filled of vomit everywhere, it’s entirely valid on his part. 

Max jumps from where he’s sitting next to the bed, playing a soft melody on his guitar and rushes towards Bapak, who takes him tightly in his arms.

“Hi, Bapak.”

“Hi, Blue.”

Rafael exchanges with look a dad and it’s like he knows somehow. He rests his head against his chest for a second and Dad touches his forehead, a frown on his face.

Ari is fast asleep and doesn’t wake up by the commotion. Dad and Bapak moves towards the bed and kisses her forehead.

“She has a fever?” Bapak says with worry.

Max and Rafael avoids their gaze but Max finally sighs, already knowing that it will take all of five second for Bapak to get the information out of them.

“She had 103 degrees fever for four days but it’s down now.”

Dad’s face scrunches.

“And you didn’t think of informing us.”

“We didn’t want you to worry.”

“You don’t have to worry about Ari. She’s fine now. We did everything as you would’ve done,” Rafael points at the water and medicines.

Dad’s face change softly and he comes closer to Rafael, putting a hand on his forehead.

“Do you even realise that you have a fever too?”

“What?” Rafael frowns. “I don’t.”

Max puts a hand on his face and then his eyes widen, “Rafe, why didn’t you tell me you were sick too?”

“I am not.”

Bapak crosses the distance and stands infront of you. “You two are insufferable. Just like your dad.”

“What?” Dad whines. “How is this my fault?” 

“It is.” Bapak takes out his tongue like a child and dad rolls his eyes in affection.

“We’re not just worried about her. But the two of you, too.” Dad points out with fond exasperation.

Rafael sighs and nods.

“Okay. Sorry, we didn’t tell you,” Max tells them.

“Come on, I’ll crush the medicine in water for you.” Bapak points with a mischievous grin. 

Rafael pouts at that, “I don’t do that anymore. I can take medicines normally. Like an adult.” 

“No, you can’t.” All of them points out at the same time.

Traitors.

So what if he can’t swallow medicines and needs them to be crushed and mixed with water.

He’s an adult, okay?

“Anyways. How was your trip? Did y’all bang?” Max asks mischievously.

Dad groans at that because he knows what’s going to follow.

Bapak puts a hand on Max’s shoulder and speaks, “Oh, so so much. There was this one night where Alexander wore this—“

“Oh my fucking god. Keep your gay to yourself,” Ari suddenly wakes up from her sleep and comments. “Have you not heard that talking about this stuff can turn innocent kids gay?”

Dad chuckles at the words. “Apparently that worked considering you’re into girls.”

“Girls with tattoos only. I have a type, daddy” Ari replies. 

“How could we ever forget the gay panic you go through every time you see a girl with tattoos?” Rafael comments. 

“Also, what’s this I’m hearing of you getting sick?” Bapak says in a serious tone this time. 

Ari immediately hides herself under the blankets. “This is a hostile environment, your honor. Over and out.”

-I am finishing my masters thesis and writing one-shots during the breaks is the only thing keeping me sane. Also, can y'all believe I wrote something non-angsty for once?? You’re welcome.

[schlattsdoll]

right this might not make sense but something like a school event and you had to dance with another guy and schlatt comes to watch (big guys proud 👏) and doesn't realise u had to basically grind on him to fantasize (arianna grande unreleased I'm sorry bbs but its slaps so hard) and he's js pissed and can't do anything about it till he takes u home and goes 'pissed u had to dance on ____' with a grumpy face and you say summet like 'I could do it with u now' and u do the dance on him and him js holding ir hand if u have to slut drop xxx

dance is a mix between:

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGJp4CRKM/

and

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGJp4PcLe/

honestley this has been in my mind for a good few days

🍓🩷

schlatt had seen how worried you were about the dance recital, it was your first duet after all. “calm down doll, you’re gonna be amazing ‘nd i’m gonna be right there watchin’ the whole time. jus’ focus on me.” he’s seen you running through the moves slightly for the past week, but he didn’t know he was why you were nervous

you were waiting backstage with your partner, kevin, who was just as nervous as you were. “we got this y/n!” the announcer announced your names, and you walked out to places. the music started and your bodies moved together to the beat. your costume flaring up as you spun, your body pressing against kevin’s.

you peeled off the top part of your costume, revealing what essentially was a bathing suit top, tossing it off stage. your nerves all gone as you felt the music flow through you, the finale was coming up. you grabbed kevin’s shirt and pushed him away before you two both did the part you’ve been stressing, the dip. you nailed it, a flawless spin into his arms and his arms behind you to dip you. your boyfriend was the first one to start cheering for you. “that’s my girl! yeah wooo!”

after the show you were now in comfier clothes, and you ran to jump into schlatts arms. “you did so good doll! ‘m so proud of you.” he himself was a little upset that you were dancing like that with another man.

the car ride home was silent. “did you not like it baby?” you asked him, your voice laced with worry. had you made him uncomfortable? “no, i did. i‘m just pissed ya had to dance with kevin like that is all.” you pulled into the parking of your dorm and you sighed. “you know i could do it just for you?”

his face lit up like a christmas tree as he nodded his head. “yeah that’ll be great.” and so, you played the song from your phone and danced around your boyfriend, being a little more relaxed and following what was supposed to be the solo choreography before they added kevin to the number. schlatt was in awe of you, staring at how your body moved to the beat. instead of doing the dip you grabbed one of his hands and dropped down then slowly made your way back up, arching your back and rolling through. “goddamn doll.” he muttered under his breath.

[isay]

Almost there.

Slovenia, represented by Raven. Not from Ru Paul’s Drag Race. Camp, dramatic and see through body suit, very much drag Queen vibes.

Croatia, another of the strong favourites. It’s the Croatian metal version of My Lovely Horse, with added lace. The crowd go wild!

Nutsa from Georgia, serving Arianna’s big sister looks and giving it the big Eastern Europe drama and ethno Bond opening credits feels with the staging.

Et maintenant, l’ultimate la belle France. Slimane, wearing another of tonight’s all white outfits and surrounded by dry ice, he’s very intense but…Gallic shrug. Meh.

And finally Austria, Kaleen. Her hips don’t lie, even if the song is basically Rhythm is a Dancer remixed.

[starlghted]

𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘱𝘪𝘥 𝘤𝘶𝘱𝘪𝘥 ft. the njbc

" it won't be long, will you stop fussing! " the princess mused, as a badly manicured hand laced with the petite croatian's perfect manicure. the blind fold had been for ' dramatic effect ' all to aid the surprise ⸺ now secrets and an overly honest norwegian usually didn't mix, she was the girl who'd accidentally told her english cousin her best friend ' died ' ( the very same best friend, she held on to now ) when madlena had uninvited alice to her birthday tea party, when they were 10 years old. not one of her finer moments, but she had promised and a promised to a wide-eyed gorgeous american with raven curls, was in arianna's book, the sacred sort. " it's a blind fold lena, pretend you're getting a facial. " separate private jet flats and the ' keeping apart of the new reconciled love-birds ' had proven a challenge, but one quick text to her boyfriend as the blonde led the brunette towards her destination ( a little mermaid themed royal suite, playing ' kiss the girl ' ) surrounded by everything, madlena would deem a favorite ( yes even paulo the cannoli much to aria's dismay ) " here. " she positioned the girl who's romantic dreams she was sure, she'd help come true. " not yet, it can't come of yet. " gesturing towards her boyfriend, she watched the american pull a reluctant third wheeling italian forward.... " hold on to this.. " hands were placed together. " and.... 3.... 2.... 1 "

" the third person, is supposed to be a stranger! " massimo protested, his mind having gone to the ' dirtiest ' possible scenario the italian could possibly think of ' and the giraffe is not my type, i've had blonde and crazy already ' and boy had he, the boy still woke up frigid cold from nightmares of his ex standing over him with a knife. ' that could mean something good right? ' he remembered asking the american more than once. a question he didn't really want an answer to. " the blindfold.... kinky, wayland. " he teased his now blushing best friend. " i'm proud. " he added once again, before he was sushed and just like that, massimo found himself being pulled into the middle of what to him was the tacky ' rapunzel suite ' arianna had been obsessing over from the moment it had been announced. his hand was placed over another's and the united ' now ! ' from both the american and norwegian, startled him but not as much as the sight that befell him the moment eyes met a familiar gaze. mouth ajar for more than a minute, the boy quickly dropped the croatian's hand. " well KISS ! " the excited blonde clapped as lightly pushed her best friend forward. " do not be useless massimo. " that earned a glare, and the avoidance of his ex girlfriend's own surprised gaze... consequence of a secret they had wordlessly agreed on. " uh... " more stumbling words. " i'm shy, maybe if you turned around. " performance anxiety, that was a first but nonetheless it was all he could think of. " you truly, truly shouldn't have. "

[nann-the-explorer]

Arianna listened to ituith’yriel, he was sounding weird. Hes never mentioned having many voices before and it left her feeling even more confused.

She knew that ituith’yriel didn't like her and he didn't like his space being invaded. She wasn't his biggest fan but she wanted to try to have some semblance of a friendship. For Nanns sake.

Also there was something about that eldritch creature she couldn't help liking.

“I'd Like to leave but I can't seem to…” her gentle voice was barely above a whisper, full of uncertainty. The space she was seeing was almost entirely black. Was this really Nanns mind? it felt like a different plane to her, one of darkness, silence and a bitter coldness that seeped into your body.

Her elven ears prickled, a wisp of voice, spoken in an ancient tongue barely audible. Was this in this strange place or in her cabin?

She tried to will herself out of the sterile place, a feeling of nausea and suffocation hit her. Arianna struggled to breath, it was as if her breath was being stolen. Colours began to swim in front of her vision, a roaring sound overtook her hearing.

She was about to die.

Her eyes snapped open. She was back in the cabin, a cold sheen covered her body and her white bed clothes clung to her body. She couldnt hear ituith’yriel anymore, a small mercy.

Ras heard the seductive tone in Andreis' quiet voices. Her cheeks were flushed and she looked delectable. Releasing her from his pin, Ras sat on the forest floor. The wind blew his silver hair softly and a smell like fresh rain and mint caught Andreis nose. It was his scent, how did she not notice it before? 8

He patted the spot next to him and she sat.

“There are many things in the world's that a vampire can hunt. Animals are pointless. Their blood won't keep you strong, in fact it will slowly kill you. It's like slowly starving.”

Andrei could tell he was talking from experience. A pang hit her, she understood hunger all too well. She laced her hand with his, giving it a squeeze.

Ras squeezed back. A soft smile graced his face before he schooled it back into a more neutral expression.

Once again his fingers stroked her neck, turning her hand over to then stroke her veins.

“The best places to take blood are, the neck, wrists and the thighs. Of course you need to ne more intimate to get that one.” He smirked.

“the trick is to get your target to willingly give you their neck.”

That sounded impossible, Andrei didn't think she knew anyone who would willingly give their neck, except for maybe Nann or Tostain.

“vampires have an ability to charm others, unless you're a total bastard that is. It's a difficult thing to explain so if you don't mind, I'll show you?”

His voice held an allure that was missing a second ago. Andrei couldn't help looking up at him. The feeling of attraction intensified as Ras looked into her eyes.

“won't you come a little closer?”

Any coherent thoughts evaporated from her mind. Rass’ suggestion was all she could think of, it was the greatest idea she had ever heard. Moving, she settled on Ras’s lap as if it were the most natural thing in the world. His lips ghosted hers. “you're like a bright flame in the dark on that ship.”

Andrei didn't notice the way Ras tilted her neck, a small gasp sounded as his lips touched her throat in a soft kiss.

His lips found their way to her pulsing artery, his mouth watered.

“Embrace the pleasure I give, taking blood isn't always painful.”

His fangs sank into her skin, her blood flooded his mouth, sweet and spicy.

Andrei didn't even feel the bite, there was no searing pain, no feeling her life-force being pulled from her body. Instead a feeling of pure pleasure spread throughout Her body. Ras wrapped his arms around her as he drank.

Andrei felt the cool air on her neck as Ras's lips left her neck, his tongue gently licked the twin puncture marks.

Ituith'ryel sensed Arianna's struggle to leave his very personal space inside Nann's mind, but he couldn't quite grasp why it was so difficult for her. Maybe it was Geiger's doing, as he shielded this space from the outer world, reducing Ituith'ryles movement radius to merely a little black box on the ground of Nann's consciousness or the elf was really more effected by the presumed illlness, that had befallen her, than the old eldritch could fathom. Maybe even both.

He let out a loud reliefed sigh anyways when he finally couldn't hear her anymore on Nioth’luyia's wavelength, the druid seemingly gone. "Lucky for you." he thought, feeling a strange kind of ease. Again, it wasn't as if he was concerned for Arianna … he couldn't possibly be worried for her, now could he? … but it was good to know that she now wouldn't fall into the grasp of Nioth’luyia. So, in that regard, he maybe liked Arianna even a little more … or rather, hated her a little less … than his psychotic sibling, he had to admit at least that much to himself. Besides that, he could think of thousand better ways to kill that druid himself than to simply hand her over to Nioth’luyia, he had some semblance of pride to uphold, hadn't he?

Ithiuith'ryel's sibling on the other hand found the absence of the strange being rather disappointing.

"Ah, what a pity, that little thing seems to be gone now. You've got interesting friends there, big brother." Nioth’luyia chirped in a rather unpleasant voice. "Can I talk to them sometime again?"

Ituith'ryel growled internally, scuttling around like a huge cat before laying down flat again.

"Don't you dare … and now get lost! Why don't you go talk with your host instead and leave me be with mine?"

Just as he said that, a small light flickered in front of what could be called his nose, sending a flash of comprehension and anticipation through him … Nann was about to awaken again and it seemed, that Geiger couldn't send them back to sleep immediately this time. And really, Geiger was increasingly worn out, slowly losing his stamina to hold Nann in that unconscious state for much longer. Ituith'ryel flashed a toothy grin at this unexpected revelation, forgetting about bothersome Nioth’luyia promptly as his claw shot forward to prevent the little hole of light in Nann's mind from closing again. It was his chance to finally get outside of this prison after all and he wouldn't let it pass by unused.

"It's playtime …"

-

Tostain stepped closer to the creature, that sat in that large pitch-black room, looking at him and gesturing with its free hand to join it. With a questioning look on his face, Tostain looked back and forth between the entity and the ball of glimmering light in its hand. But the voices from the glowing ball seemed to be gone now and a part of him wondered now if he had really heard them.

"Are you by any chance … Yicth‘ararc?"

The creature cackled, a raspy sound. With a soft pat, the creature sent the small glowing ball of light flying upwards and joining the other lights, that softly blinked scattered in the vast space.

"Indeed … I met your Captain and Ituith'ryel's host Nann before. I am the Sentinel at the Threshold, the keeper of the many worlds."

The creature gestured around them with a protruding wave of his hand, looking at the billions of small glimmering lights that surrounded them. Obviously these weren't simple lights than but rather all the worlds and universes the creature could oversee from here. The creature looked back at Tostain, his hands offered towards him.

"And you are one of the many warriors in many worlds that I have lend a fraction of my power to."

Tostain raised an eyebrow. So, his power over time originated from this entity then. He had never expected more of these creatures involved in this constellation between the powers of the crew and Ituith'ryel, who could possess Nann's body completely if necessary. Tostain furrowed a brow, contemplating as to why it had been necessary to send Ituith'ryel as a possessor then if they all could lend their powers to them partially. He filed that question away for later, now he just wanted to know, what this was all about.

"What do you want from me, Yicth‘ararc? Why am I here?"

Yicth‘ararc made a little smacking sound, his hand with the long fingers coming up in an exaggerated dramatic gesture.

"Why so hostile? I merely wanted to make yure you're alright after that afwul sickness."

Now, the creature leaned forward, his head tilting ever so slightly.

"And … if you're interested, that is … I wanted to ask if you would like to have some more of my powers?"

Tostain's expression changed to surprise. Where was this coming from and why? Why now? These questions and more swirled around his mind as he contemplated the proposal. Something told him to be cautious about this generous offer, but there were some other thoughts, that overrid his wariness. With more power, he would be able to protect Arianna better, maybe even going against this Lucan. His hand clenched into a fist at his side as he asked the one question, that took forefront before everything else.

"What would I have to do in return for that?"

Yicth‘ararc grinned contented, his long tongue split into many smaller ones, licking independently over the teeth of his maw. This was exactly going according to plan.

-

A small shudder of arousal rushed through Andrei's body as Ras licked the bite marks and she could feel her body reacting to it, belying her usual power over her carnal desires. The feeling of him drawing blood from her was unlike anything she had experienced before, and anyone else would have reacted quite differently. Hell, she would have moaned loud if it hadn't been for the last remnants of her physical control. She blinked a little, confused at how easy he had charmed her to sit on his lap - yes, Ras was quite attractive, just a complete fool or a blind person would have thought otherwise. But Andrei wasn't one to be swayed that easily, she had way too many bad experiences from her past for that. For the slightest moment, it irked her to no end, that he could twist her around his finger like this and, even worse, she reacted like a mindless puppet to that. Andrei looked at him with a pout.

"Looks like I am not that bright, if I get charmed so easily by you, am I?" She smirked, answering to his little pick-up line from before. But now, she was tempted to try this whole charming skill thing of a vampire as well. She knew, Ras wouldn't probably fell for it as easily as she did … she deemed him too experienced for that and she was merely a bloody beginner in that context. But she was hopefully not a complete bastard like he had put it before and therefore completely unable to use it. Besides, there was no one else around to try with.

She leaned a little closer, her eyebrow lifting as she raised her hand and traced his jawline with her fingertips in a tantalizing way. She managed a seductive smile, revealing her pointed canines while a progressively growing thirst for blood and physical intimacy were at war inside her.

"I see, what an unexpected pleasurable experience … well, Ras, you had your fair share of my blood … and I have plenty of pleasure to give to you myself. So, why don't we swap roles now?"

[gypsymarket26]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Arianna by Howard Top SZ - L/XL.

[vinterhjerte]

@sunlightswallowed : "I have a gift for you, Elsling," Arianna offers it to her with a smile: A shawl. Not a thick, woolen one, like the one Elsa had inherited from her mother; but lighter and in a thinner yarn, in white and silver and blue, with a complicated, lace-like pattern. "I made it with my own hands. I know you aren't troubled by cold like the rest of us, but you must forgive an old woman her worries for her niece."

Her immediate reaction was to take the delicate thing with careful hands, one underneath to hold the – admittedly small – weight of it, and the other the brush over the stitches, intricate and undoubtedly time-consuming. For a few seconds, she just ran her hand over the soft stitches, eyes wide but stinging slightly as she sucked her lips in between her teeth, her chin shaking slightly.

With careful movements, as it were made of glass and not yarn, Elsa placed the shawl aside, before throwing her arms around Arianna's shoulders. They had embraced since the thaw, of course they had, but this was more like when she had been a little girl, exuberant in her affection. Squeezing, she let her cheek rest on a shoulder. There was a sense of safety in holding her aunt, a comfort in the familiarity.

"Thank you," she murmured, voice a little watery from unshed tears but the smile bright on her face. "I love it. It's beautiful."

[omnipointmuses]

Arianna with a gut full of obese beauties.

You can't see them cause how well her steely abs are compacting them down but judging by her coy smile and pulsing shaft she was hosting quite the gathering inside herself.

[berezina]

"Sunday, April 13, 1986"

Arianna's wedding [on Saturday, April 12] was a diary classic. The whole world seemed to have assembled at St. Bart's Church as if for a royal occasion. The bride and groom were preceded down the aisle by a sound boom (which Harry at first thought was a cross) held aloft by a prancing sound man. Arianna herself looked amazing, a cross between Callas and Queen Alexandra. Galanos had made her a skintight, high-throated white lace gown with a coronet of orchids and her hair was scraped back to reveal the regal nose. She was anorexically slim. To get to this size she must have lived on nothing but communion wagers for a month. The groom is a mystery really. A tall glass of water with a weak smile.

Since the service preceded Ann Getty's dinner dance, all the guests were dressed to the nines, each row bursting with taffeta and silk. Aileen Mehle was in her Belle Watling getup of two thousand bows on her head and a giant skirt. The starlet Leigh Taylor-Young was wearing a flouncing salmon tulle ball gown. Reinaldo Herrera, after saying for weeks that he refused to wear a dinner jacket because it made him feel he was in Prizzi's Honor, gave in and wore one but watched with heavy consternation as the service swerved from High Church to Greek Orthodox, with crowns held aloft over the bride and groom. 'What will the psalms be in? Aztec?' muttered Henry Kissinger. Zuckerman trudged up and down the aisle, cracking gags as he performed his usher duties. 'I'm available for bar mitzvahs, too,' he hissed at Howard Kaminsky, the Random House publisher and CEO. The tiny figure of Arianna's old flame from London, the Times columnist Bernard Levin, ambled by, flanked by two taffeta amazons, one of whom was Princess Michael of Kent. Anne Getty looked shapely and unconstrained in a yellow silk dress that looked good with her cloud of abundant titian hair. Barbara Walters carried off her unfortunate lavender bridesmaid dress extremely well. Afterward, a total of nearly eight hundred went on to the reception at the Metropolitan Club. There was a big posse of predinner floaters who seemed not to have seats. Most of these were Arianna's old friends. The receiving line went on till ten p.m. Harry caught sight of Anna Murdoch, who fled across the room. Rupert was more poised. He broke out of the group he was in and bounded over to greet Harry. They conversed cordially about the state of Fleet Street and the triumph of Rupert breaking the print unions at Times newspapers with his new printing plant at Wapping, a feat Harry genuinely admires and almost forgives the rest of it for. It's ironic. The union strikes that killed so many brilliant editions of The Sunday Times were the misery that made the Thomson family sell to Rupert in the first place. Perhaps it needed his brutal expediency to end the impasse. [The carnivore liberating the herbivores, as Murdoch later put it.]

At dinner I was at a great table, between Henry Kissinger and William Safire, along with Barbara Walters, Dick Snyder, Lally Weymouth, George Weidenfeld, and Princess Michael. George Weidenfeld spent much of the evening in plump reverie, puffing on his inevitable cigar. I'd love to have got inside his head. He has long been Arianna's sponsor from the days in London when she and I, as girl-about-town graduates from Cambridge and Oxford, respectively, used to go to his wonderful publishing salons on Cheyne Walk. As a combination of sophisticated cosmopolitan intellect and émigré Viennese huckster, he's always been a champion of unconventional upward mobility, especially when allied to a beautiful girl. It was his genius idea to have Arianna play the Greek card and write her biography of Callas in 1980 (which Harry extracted on the front page of the Sunday Times review section, launching her author career). At the wedding he must have been thinking, Look how we've pulled it off. Only three years ago Arianna, looking for new Horizons, was working the party circuit in New York and George was about to go broke at Weidenfeld and Nicolson. But their two-pronged seduction of Ann Getty means that both he and Arianna have landed in a giant pot of honey; he's wooed Ann into underwriting his publishing company and become her business partner, and Arianna has an influential new best friend and a new husband oozing with money from Texan oil.

George's speech was an encomium to Arianna, slightly marred by its strong commercial thrust promoting her forthcoming book on Picasso. Arianna herself gave longest and most profuse thanks to Ann Getty. At one point, according to Marie, Mrs. Huffington was seen pounding down the street away from the Metropolitan Club pursued by a solicitous Mrs. Stassinopoulos, who, after much gesticulating, persuaded her to return to the wedding party. Mrs. Huffington's umbrage could have been on any number of counts—the placing, the toasts, the cameras. In the receiving line, Arianna broke away to give love to Charlotte Curtis, which will ensure good coverage in The New York Times.

~Tina Brown [buy]

[365filmsbyauroranocte]

Sei donne per l'assassino (Mario Bava, 1964)

[rawberry-preserves]

This cosplay is making me wanna die

But that's okay cause it's at least gonna be pretty

[wildbornsiren]

After Midnight | Rhett Abbott x F!Reader

After Midnight Synopsis: It doesn’t matter if he’s won or lost, just that he’s home.  Drabble: 1060 words AFAB/ female reader.   Warning: Explicit MINORS DNI: sex.  Notes:  Comments and reblogs are so appreciated. Likes are loved. Just a little something for @yespolkadotkitty because I adore her. Thanks to @hederasgarden​ for the set of eyes. Thank you so much for reading. It’s appreciated and really means the most.  Tagging in:  @a-reader-and-a-writer   @writercole  @evansrogerskitten   @arianna-bradshaw @roses-and-grasses @robertcallsignbobfloyd  @letsfvckingdance @green-socks @skvatnavle @a-reader-and-a-writer     @mayhem24-7forever @callsign-phoenix @yespolkadotkitty​ @princessmisery666​ @cowboybarbie​

Light seeps out from under the closed bathroom door. You woke up when you heard his footsteps on the stairs, and the gentle brush of his fingers against your leg as he passed the bed made you smile. And worry. It was rare for him not to wake you when he returned from the rodeo, even if it was late. The shower turns off and you can hear him fumbling around with bottles in the medicine cabinet. Your feet hit the ground, and you’re knocking lightly on the door before opening it. Rhett is standing in front of the sink, a bottle of antiseptic and a cotton pad in his hand, towel around his waist. “Rhett?” He turns to look at you, a bruise starting to bloom on his jaw, his knuckles split and still oozing blood despite his shower. There’s scrapes and cuts on his chest and torso, he’s favoring his right hip. “Sit,” you point to the toilet, and he takes a seat on the closed lid. “Jessie bring you home?” “Yeah,” his arms circle your waist, pulling you to him. He rests his head against your torso, and you take his weight as he leans against you. “Concussion or just sleepy?” Your fingers card through his damp hair. “Sleepy,” he murmurs, nuzzling against you softly. “Let me help.” He squeezes lightly before he’s pulling away. He looks up at you, eyes closing when you lean in to kiss his forehead. “Missed you.” “I missed you too.” You say as you pour antiseptic on the cotton pad and start dabbing at the cuts and scrapes. “Your mom had me come around for dinner earlier, there’s leftovers in the fridge.” He hums in response, body curving away when you find a tender spot. “Had somethin’ on the road.” You drop a kiss to his shoulder. “All done, come on handsome, let’s get you in bed.” You offer your hand, and he takes it. His fingers lace with yours, and he tugs gently, pulling you against him. “What if I said I wasn’t tired?” He kisses your temple, that warm drawl rumbling in his chest. “Rhett, you’re asleep on your feet.” Your hands smooth up his back and he arches, a soft sound coming from him. His hands slide from your waist to your ass, groping hard enough that the fabric of your sleep shorts bunches, his fingertips brushing skin. You can feel the shift in his breathing, the press of his erection against your stomach. “Please?” His lips brush your ear, along your cheek. “I missed you so bad, sweet girl.” You laugh softly against his mouth before he’s kissing you. It’s slow and easy and you can’t help but pull him closer. It didn’t feel like home when he wasn’t there, but now that he was here, pressed against you and kissing you, all is right in your world. “Come on then. Let your girl take care of you.” He groans, kissing you again. He leads you into the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling you between his legs. “What do you have in mind darlin’?” The smirk is present though it’s sleepy and on this edge of a sweet smile. “Lay back,” you nudge him gently. He scoots back, laying out on his back. You toss the towel aside, hands mapping his body. Normally when you tumble into bed with him after he’s been gone its harsh kisses and wandering hands. You keep your touches light, soft, fingertips brushing along the angled planes of his frame, tracing his tattoo and old scars. A low chuckle comes from him, and he squirms when you catch that one spot high up on his side. “Sorry.” You press a kiss to his collar bone. “Couldn’t help myself.” His hands rest on your hips, his fingers rubbing soft circles on your skin, sliding slowly under your worn tank top to cup your breasts, thumbs teasing your nipples. “Rhett….” “You didn’t say I couldn’t touch you back.” He’s looking up at you through heavily lidded eyes, lips parted as he moans, when you grind against him “It’s hard to keep my hands off of you.” Lifting your weight just enough, you wiggle out of your sleep shorts, kicking them to the ground. “I wasn’t complaining.” You lean in and kiss the tip of his nose. His hands return to your hips as he sits up under you. Strong arms cord as he adjusts you in his lap. “I need you darlin’” “I know.” You kiss him softly, shifting so he’s sinking into you. You groan against his lips, hands tangling in his hair. He lets you set the pace, slow and easy, one of his hands at the back of your neck, the other at the small of your back, urging you on. “I missed you.” You murmur, the scruff on his cheek rough against your lips. “I missed you.” The phrase spills from you over and over, an acceptable (to you), stand in for what you really want to say. His breath hitches against your neck, hips rocking up with just a bit more force, but keeping the gentle pace you set. Soft kisses peppered against your collar bone, then back up your neck. His mouth closes over yours, swallowing your moans when his hand slides between you. His fingers ease over your clit, rubbing gently. “Come for me, please.” His voice is so low, full of gravel. “Ain’t nothing prettier than seeing you fall apart for me.” His coaxing and the way he moans your name, and it’s not long before you’re coming for him. He watches you, hands sliding up and down your sides. “You’re so beautiful.” He murmurs when you collapse against him, your face pressed against his neck. He’s spilling into you with a quiet sound, holding you close. “I missed you too darlin’, more than I can say.” He’s lifting you off him, settling you properly in the bed, before he’s sprawling out next to you. You manage to pull a blanket over the two of you, even as he’s scooting closer, his head resting on your chest. His slow, deep breathing lulls you back to sleep, wrapped up in the man that you, admittedly, had fallen for. And maybe in the light of day you’d be able to say it out loud.

[portaltothevoid]

Masterlist

hey friends! my collection of writings lives here. under the cut you’ll find an eddie munson vampire au one shot, an eddie munson x ofc fic (multi parts and chapters and she’s a total bad ass, you’ll love her), and a fic revolving around lore from the band ghost! if you take the time to read any of my work, you’re amazing and i’m grateful that you’re here. enjoy!

and don’t be afraid to message me i’m just shy

you’re losing me — Terzo/Papa Emeritus III x reader and Copia x reader — heavy angst with a sprinkling of smut (in progress) — ao3 link

You were in a years long relationship with the leader of the Satanic church, destined for greatness at his side. Or so you thought until he became a serial cheater. However, while your relationship with the Ministry's current Papa had been tumultuous for some time, you were finally pushed to make the choice you'd been avoiding - leaving him for another senior clergy member (and Papa's half-brother). This ignited a battle to balance the scales of power which Papa Emeritus III had tipped heavily in his favor to the point of abusing it. From there, you’re set on a cataclysmic journey that reveals your true self. Your current and former relationships are put to the test when your destiny, which is far more important to the church than you could have ever imagined, is finally revealed.

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv | part v | part vi | part vii | part viii | part ix | part x | part xi | part xii | part xiii |

Between Breaths (An XXX Perspective) — terzo x reader smut — ao3 link

You're the Head Witch at the Ministry. Arguably at times you hold more power than the current Papa, Papa Emeritus III. You've always hated him and you assumed the feeling was mutual. But what happens when he calls you out on it?

God Called In Sick Today — copia x oc, mafia au — ao3 link

When a mission goes south, Copia is left scrambling to figure out a plan to get the mayor-to-be in favor of the Emeritus family. That’s where Arianna Diodati, the Mafia Princess of his (very Catholic) rival, comes in. He plans to use her as a bargaining chip to get what he wants. Did he place the right bet or did he take more than he bargained for?

Console the Griever — Copia x GN!Reader — one shot where Copia gives reader the comfort they need to help them as they grieve loved ones.

Love Bites — Eddie Munson x OFC — Vampire AU one shot

Foolin’ — Eddie Munson x OFC — slow burn, angst, fluff (completed)

Kat Ramsay was forced to move to Hawkins for her senior year, which she planned to get through with her head down, so she can go back to her rock’n’roll life in Los Angeles. She never expected her world to be turned upside down as she learned to open her heart, let others care about her, and accept herself with the help of the Freak of Hawkins High.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 |

A Very Kat Ramsay Christmas Special — Eddie Munson x ofc — fluff (completed)

Kat surprises Eddie with an epic Christmas gift he’ll never forget.

Part One | Part Two

For Whom the Bell Tolls — Eddie Munson x OFC — established relationship, fix it fic (completed)

Eddie and Kat’s relationship is put to the test as they join forces with everyone to take down Vecna. (It’s season four, only with Kat, and Eddie lives.)

1. Lullaby | 2. Voodoo Dolly | 3. Chains of Misery | 4. Metal Meltdown | 5. Veteran of the Psychic Wars | 6. Warning | 7. Youth Gone Wild | 8. Crazy Train | 9. Detroit Rock City | 10. Living Bad Dreams | 11. Leather and Lace | 12. Somethin’ to Hide | 13. Road to Nowhere | 14. Got the Time | 15. Renegade | 16. Symphony of Destruction | 17. Run To The Hills | 18. Friends Will Be Friends | 19. Pull Me Under | 20. The Thing That Should Not Be | 21. A Forest | 22. Demon’s Night | 23. Turn on Your Light | 24. Break On Through | 25. Everybody Wants to Rule the World | 26. The Final Countdown | 27. Breaking the Law | 28. Never Tear Us Apart | 29. Separate Ways (Worlds Apart) | 30. Master of Puppets | 31. The Four Horsemen | 32. Die With Your Boots On | 33. The Last in Line Holding Out for a Hero | 34. For Who the Bell Tolls | 35. Spellbound | series playlist

[morgansmoreid]

Do You Still Love Me • Derek Morgan • Chapter Six

Chapter Name: "Take My Mind off All the Bad"

Fic Masterlist

Italic writing stands for flashbacks.

Content/Trigger Warnings: Slightly Detailed Smut, Implied Drug Usage, Talks of Child Molestation (very brief/Derek's past)

Smut Warnings: Cunnilingus, Praising, Overstimulation, Begging, Orgasm Delay, Penetrative Sex, Daddy kink (slight), Unprotected sex, Handjob

Bold Italic stands for the talking between phone calls

---

"I don't push people away," Y/n mumbled as she pulled into the hotel parking lot.

She grabbed her jacket from the passenger side and headed to her room, ignoring the kind worker who said hello to her.

Y/n stepped off the elevator and pulled her key out of her back pocket, the 'ding' filling the hallway silence at that moment.

Closing the door quietly, Y/n walked towards the small light from the lamp on the left side. As she whipped her head around the corner, she was met Derek's bright smile.

"Hey," He nodded, muting the bad hotel show he was watching.

"Hi, baby," She slipped off her blazer and threw it onto a nearby chair with her jacket.

Walking to the bathroom, Y/n turned on the shower and looked at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were red, and her cheeks started to puff.

So many tears spread for the ones who don't care.

Stripping the rest of her clothes, Y/n stepped into the shower, the hot water flowing over her body. She just stood there for a while, the water the only thing filling the silence in the bathroom. The time moved slowly, leaving Y/n trapped in her thoughts.

"Ms, Feilds, please take off the sunglasses," The math sub called Y/n during the work period.

Y/n scoffed and slouched down as her heavy eyelids began to betray her.

"The sunglasses," The sub asked again, this time more demanding.

Before Y/n could say anything, Arianna turned around and grabbed them off Y/n's face.

"Fuck!" Y/n winced at the added sunlight.

The teacher took one look at Y/n's dilated pupils and took her into the hall.

The knock at the door pulled Y/n out of her thoughts.

"Bae?" Derek called out, the shower curtain blocking his concerned expression from Y/n's eyes.

"Hm?" Y/n hummed, poking her head out of the shower, not leaving much to the eye.

"You ok?" Derek leaned in.

Y/n shook her head in reassurance, a chill filling her body as Derek's thumb swiped across her cheek.

"So why are you crying?" He pulled back.

Y/n just stares at him.

"You don't see them, you won't get it."

"You might leave, I don't want you to."

"I hold up my past with strong walls, it only takes one hit though. One hit and it's all gone."

"I have habits that are calling my name and yet you are the only thing that keeps me from giving in."

That's what Y/n wants to say. She wants Derek to know, she wants him to listen.

"Sad day, that's all. Pass me that towel?" She changes the subject instead.

He looks back and passes her the towel hanging off the bathroom door. She wraps it around herself and steps out, turning off the shower from the outside. She walks out of the bathroom, Derek following behind as she pulls out a shirt and some underwear from her go-bag. She throws the towel to the bed, her body now exposed to Derek. He watches as she slips on the black underwear and one of his oversized graphic tees before throwing the towel over to the same chair her jackets were in.

Derek walks over to the bed, sitting in the same spot he was in before. Eyes follow down Y/n's body, almost habitual, a small grin appearing on his face at his marks that were starting to clear up from a few nights before. Y/n walks toward the bed and sits next to him, the hotel mattress providing little to no comfort at all.

"Are you ok?" She asks as she lays her head on his shoulder. It's a small gesture, but that's all Y/n wants and needs.

"Just tired, been a long day." Derek kisses the top of her forehead.

"You got that right," Y/n laughs.

It's a genuine laugh, a happy one.

Wrapping an arm around her torso, Derek pulls Y/n as close as he could. She's hiding something. Derek knows what it feels like to go through the lengths of keeping a secret. He was willing to go to jail for a murder he didn't commit if it meant no one knows what Carl Buford did to him. If it meant he didn't have to relive those memories once more.

Except even with the team by his side, Derek felt alone.

And when the memories resurface, when Derek can feel Carl's touch, he feels alone. Y/n pulls him out of that but he still feels alone. He doesn't want her to feel that.

It sucks to feel that.

"I love you," He mumbled into a comfortable silence.

Y/n looked up, her head almost hitting his chin, and just smiled.

"I love you too," She kissed his lips.

His soft, warm, comfortable lips.

Neither one could tell you what happened. Derek pulled Y/n in, leaving her straddled on his lap. Their kiss grew hotter as Y/n pulled herself closer to Derek, his forming boner giving her the friction her body desired. Hands gripped her sides as they moved down to her ass, a small moan leaving her mouth into his.

Derek's hands moved up Y/n's bare back as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Derek pulled the tee off of Y/n, throwing it somewhere in the room. Her skin was warm against his chest. His lips kissed and marked down her body before coming back up to hers.

"I love you," He said one more time.

"I love you."

Wrapping one arm across her back, Derek repositioned them both as a grin appeared on his face at the sight of his girlfriend under him.

Legs wrap around his waist as Derek marks Y/n's neck. He taps the side of her thigh, signaling for her to unravel her legs. As they fall to the side, Derek resumes his travel down her body again, this time taking the black underwear with him.

His arms wrap around her thighs as he pulls her all the way to the edge, eyes searching her for consent to continue.

She nods but it's not enough for Derek. He raises an eyebrow at her, getting an eye-roll in return.

"Tell me what you want." He mumbled.

"You." Y/n bluntly stated, staring him down.

"Can't hear you," He taunted, his fingers moving closer to Y/n's wet arousal.

"Please daddy," The words rolled of Y/n's tongue.

That was all it took for Derek. His lips attached her clit, a loud moan coming from Y/n in response. Her hands grabbed onto the bedsheets, squeezing them hard as Derek quickly quickened his pace.

To silence her moans, Y/n brought her hand to her mouth, the method only muffling the sounds to the bare minimum. Frowning at her actions, Derek added two fingers into her slit and pulled her hand down, her moan like a medley in his ears.

Small curses and names left Y/n's mouth as her orgasm started to build up.

"Derek..." She cried, her muscles tensing.

Instead of responding, Derek's tongue quickened its pace as his fingers curled inside of her again and again.

Throwing her head back, Y/n felt her composure wearing off as she called Derek's name one more time, only it came out in a breath, relieving how close to her climax she truly was.

As his fingers continued to thrust inside her, Derek pulled away and smirked at the begging Y/n.

"Go ahead," He growled in her ear.

He moved up to her face as his thumb came into contact with clit, throwing Y/n completely off the edge. With their chest's now in complete contact, Y/n's nails slid down Derek's back as she came down from her high.

Removing his hand, Derek ran his other one against Y/n's face, leaving small kisses as her breathing returned to a normal pace. His other thumb swiped across the tip of his tongue, Y/n's sweet arousal to taste.

He loved every part of Y/n. Take one look at them together and the feeling was clearly mutual.

Both of them wanted more.

Both of them craved more.

Turning her head to look at him, Y/n pressed her lips against Derek's, the taste savoring and sweet. His own muscles relaxed to the calm touch of her nail against his shoulder and her body goes soft at his hand to the side of her leg.

It's just the two of them in this moment-and they know it.

The kiss deepens fast as both tounges fighting for dominance. Y/n gives in and pulls the drawstrings of Derek's grey sweatpants, losing them out of the small knot they were in. Derek's figure points out just from under the band, a low grunt comes out as Y/n palms him.

His eyes meet hers, glassy and lust-filled as she lets at a patronizing smile. Pulling the sweats down, Y/n's hands rub on Derek, the action causing him to grip the sheets above her head with no mercy.

"Keep doing that and you'll ruin the fun," He said, his tone assertive and demanding.

"Like this?" Y/n fastened her pace as she batted faux innocence to Derek.

Instead of giving her a reaction, Derek used his hand to spread Y/n's leg farther away from his. Two steps ahead of him, Y/n made his job easier and braced herself for what was next.

"Ready?" Derek lined himself up with Y/n. He was aware of his size, he was aware of what he could do to Y/n.

And he loved it.

Slowly thrusting into her, Derek gave her a second to adjust before lacing his fingers with hers. He loved when it was just them. He loved when she was all his, all for him. He loved the way her eyes rolled back as his thrusts got harder. He loved the way his name rang out her mouth in pleasure.

He loved everything when it came to Y/n.

Especially her nails dragging down her back.

Y/n's fingers tightened around Derek's as she felt her second orgasm coming. Her body was sore and tired from the first time and she was getting closer and closer.

"You can do it," Derek praised in her ear.

"Come on do it for daddy," He kissed her lips, the words enough to send her past her limit.

Walls clench around Derek as her free hand drags down his back, Y/n's leg shaking violently as a result. His body fully covers her second later, one more thrust ending both of them.

It's like home to both of them. Their bare skins in contact with each other and only each other, the words that he mumbles in her ear, each syllable spent expressing his love for her.

They take away each other's bad.

Taking all the warmth with him, Derek head to the bathroom and comes back with a damp cloth.

"A shower will do us both good," He presses the fabric onto Y/n's body.