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heartsofminds · 3 months

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i'm calling just to hear you scream - part i

"She’s tried to be positive. She’s tried to be kind. She’s trying to be the peacekeeper, but all of that falls out the window when her brother is bitching out everything that fucking blinks and breathes and Richie has slung a sledgehammer into the wrong wall that needed to be knocked down." or Natalie gets fed the fuck up and hires a hospitality attorney before everything else turns to shit.

a/n: i couldn't help myself at all and had to bite by trying my hand at writing for carmy! what can i say? i love men with trauma that need to be cuddled like newborns! please enjoy the beginning of enemies to lovers to enemies back to lovers fic with a workaholic chef and an overly empathetic attorney. angst is my brand! i hope you enjoy!

Being the peacekeeper of your family is never something anyone ever sets out to be.

One day you’re normal and live blissfully with the rose-colored lenses of naivety tinting life shades of bashful blush and magnetic magenta. The next day you’re diffusing a spitfire scarlett dispute between your anxiety-ridden mother and impulsively crude older brother while simultaneously taming the balloon of battered blue tears your baby brother sheds who observes from the corner; scared yet somehow unaware of the emotions sucking the oxygen out of everyone.

At first, it feels good. It feels nice to be appreciated and turned to in moments of darkness. Helpfulness defines your livelihood and gives you the nameplate of the gold star child who can never do any wrong and always finds a solution. But then you realize that is what you ever really are, and you’re both hated for your inability to let things sour and for always having an answer despite uncertainty plaguing every course of action.

Being the peacekeeper of your family is both a Medal of Honor, worn with pride and graciousness, yet a bullet wound wielded by shame and agony. The tenderness and hurt push on it until you can hardly stand it; half expecting pus to be seeping out in pale yellow heaps because the pain feels so real.

There are no exit wounds. There are no breaks. There is no humanity or personal identity or room for self-discovery.

A peacemaker is all you will be and all you will ever accomplish, and you’ll never say it out loud but it’s fucking exhausting.

Being the peacemaker is something Natalie Berzatto never fucking asked for, yet here she is, playing project manager to her haywire (and sometimes freakishly obsessive) baby brother’s blind-eyed throw of a dart that manifested itself in asking Uncle Jimmy for an eight hundred thousand dollar loan with the promise to have it completely paid back within eight months.

She’s not one to rain on a parade, but it’s hard to keep marching when your entire life has been putting out the fires of overly ambitious business ventures during unmedicated fits of mania. She had seen it with their dad, with their mom, and with Mikey. Carmen is the last needle needed to complete the fucked up haystack that engulfs their family.

She’s tried to be positive. She’s tried to be kind. She’s trying to be the peacekeeper, but all of that falls out the window when her brother is bitching out everything that fucking blinks and breathes and Richie has slung a sledgehammer into the wrong wall that needed to be knocked down.

Natalie has never thought of looking into Botox until now; when her face is set in a permanent scowl and her resting heart rate nears triple digits. Pete had been telling her for the past three weeks that she was doing amazing; that this was an impossible task to complete stress-free, and that the stress was “good” because it meant that she cared.

Sometimes she doesn’t realize that not everyone has a mom who drives the fucking car through the den during Christmas Eve dinner nor does everyone have a mom who moves all the furniture to the backyard before having to leave for their oldest brother’s high school graduation. Not everyone has an older brother who blows his head off and doesn’t leave a note and not everyone has a younger brother who would lose his head if it wasn’t attached to his body and had his mouth that was spewing hurtful insults by the dozen.

Stress does not mean that you care. Stress means that your eyes are staring at the fucking Sun trying to see where the other shoe is getting ready to drop because there’s always another disappointment and always another phone call to make to the pharmacy for more SSRIs.

Needless to say, Richie calling Neil “lard ass” on an antagonizing loop after he had pointed out the wrong wall was being destroyed was the last straw. Well, that and the fact she found a new patch of white hairs colonizing on her hairline the other morning. Constant shouted insults, gray hairs popping up overnight, and the colossal secret of a new infant making its arrival into the chaos in October weigh heavy on her. And she absolutely cannot afford to lose her cool and become the kind of bitchy and mean she knows that she’s capable of.

Your phone number sits inside the LED-lit text thread of a friend she had known in high school. Becca was the older sister of Claire Cantor whom her little brother may have or may have not had a pathetic crush on years ago when he was in high school.

She feels kind of grimy doing what she is; offering up information about Carmy to Becca to give to Claire who apparently thought her baby brother was the bee's knees (which, if she saw the way he was acting right now, Natalie knows she would run the other way). She doesn’t even think Carmen has the capability to think of anything outside of the restaurant and the menu and how royally fucked they all are.

She can feel the dull ache of guilt in her chest that comes with knowing how unlikely anything is to come from this, and how wrong she is for pretending like her telling Becca where he grocery shops or if he has a girlfriend or if he was currently looking for someone to date would somehow tether Claire to a world where her and Carmen are a “thing” (because apparently “boyfriend and girlfriend” is too permanent of a word for Chicagoan twenty-somethings to use).

But she’s doing it for the sake of everyone else! It can’t possibly be as gross and low-lived as she feels it is.

Becca Cantor is insufferable and can only be taken in small doses, but she’s also a big wig junior partner at one of the most lucrative law firms in Chicago. Natalie hates blowing smoke up people’s asses who don’t deserve it (and in Becca’s case certainly don’t need it), but she desperately needs help and knows that she needs to figure something out before she fucks herself in such a deep hole that she couldn’t attempt to unfuck herself if she tried.

Your official title is “junior associate” and you had been working at Becca’s firm following your graduation from Northwestern’s Pritzker School of Law a couple of years prior. Becca had said you were amazing; freakishly smart, funny, and hardworking. She also mentioned that you were the best kind of junior associate; the ones that know when to shut the fuck up and when to get the fuck out of the way. The addition added before the text conversation ended was how you were looking to get your foot into the hospitality legal field, and how you were willing to do anything concerning that for free fucking ninety-nine if it meant you would have some experience.

Natalie sits with her lower lip worried between her teeth and her hands one tick shy of shaking. Her heart beats erratically despite lounging on her couch with the lights off and a re-run of That 70’s Show playing softly in the background. She makes a mental note to bring up the high resting heart rate at her next OB appointment.

It’s because she’s pregnant. Yes. It has to be because she’s pregnant.

She shouldn’t be nervous. It would be absolutely ridiculous to be nervous. She’s not nervous.

She already ran the idea past Sydney and she agreed that they absolutely needed a lawyer in their back pocket. With all of the tax records fucked beyond belief, new workers being hired who actually knew their worth and wouldn’t tolerate not having an actual employement contract, and the lack of permits under their belt currently, a lawyer wouldn’t hurt if getting one turned out to not be as helpful as anticipated. Besides, Becca had said you were doing it for them pro bono which in turn meant free fucking nintey-nine.

But Natalie had lied to Carmen about how much some fluted cocktail glasses cost to ensure that they purchased the cheaper ones so that she could run the numbers and figure out a way to put you on the payroll. Pro bono or not, you’re doing them a huge favor and part of her can’t put the peacekeeping to rest.

Her fingers type and untype a novel of characters. She can’t seem to relax her mind enough to articulate what exactly she wants to say. She has one shot to not scare you off and not lose her mind in a fit of fiery rage and not have everything turn to shit and it be her fault. She has to be perfect.

Fuck. She is nervous.

Hi! This is Natalie Berzatto. I’m one of Becca Cantor’s friends and she referred me to you. I’m working on opening a restaurant and would like for you to swing by and discuss some things about it if you’re open to that! Please let me know. I’m looking forward to hearing back from you soon!

Nat’s finger hits the blue “send” arrow in the rounded box of her phone screen the same time she pushes a gag to the back of her throat. She used to work at a marketing firm for Christ’s sake. Cold contacting people isn’t anything new and she’s usually not one to shy away from reaching out to anyone in her personal life first. But she can’t help the fact that she’s never been able to swallow the artificial bubble gummy niceness of reaching out to a complete stranger for the first time. She feels stupid and knows that she sounds even stupider but tries not to think about it.

Besides, keeping everything together is never easy and she knows that she would be selfish for letting her discomfort prevent her from doing what she knows is best.

Her breath is stuck in her chest as she eyes the open text thread to an unsaved number; her blue text message staring at her menacingly and breeding contempt as the seconds pass. She gasps loudly whenever she sees the gray bubbles pop up beneath it. Pete pokes his head into the living room with a tea towel in his hand and one of the ceramic plates they had eaten dinner on in the other. His eyes wear concern but he knows better than to confront his wife. Natalie was anything but sugary sweet when she was stressed and the influx of hormones as of late have not been helping.

You see the message as soon as Natalie sends it. The unknown “312” number finds its way into your notifications and your eyes read over the words in a frenzy. You know that you’re intelligent. You graduated from law school for fuck’s sake, but for some reason you absolutely cannot comprehend the text you’re reading.

Firstly, you were sure Becca hated your fucking guts. She was a junior partner that everyone hated being assigned to because she pushed all her work onto the associates and nothing ever seemed to be good enough for her. Part of the reason you had to take work home tonight was because she sent you an email with enough passive-aggressive undertone to know that these edits needed to be done now; never mind the fact that the time she took to type out the seven and a half page report about the original report probably took up so much time that she could’ve done the task herself. But yet you replied kindly and have been working through your brain fog and finger cramps since arriving home at six in the evening five hours ago.

Secondly, hospitality litigation was absolutely above your pay grade. You had taken one elective course on it during your 2L year and did a two-week internship before the start of 3L simply because one of your friends wanted to go on vacation and needed to find someone to cover for them. You know jack shit about hospitality law and you don’t even know why Becca Cantor, of all fucking people, would be so willing to recommend you when she couldn’t care less if you lived or died.

But of course, you can’t say no. You can never say no, and if this Natalie person was desperate enough to reach out to you via text at 11 PM on a Wednesday, she definitely needed help and needed it now. Besides, you would tell her that you do not need to be paid and if whatever she needs proves to be way too advanced for you, you can always help her find an attorney that knows what they’re doing.

Right?

It definitely doesn’t mean that you’ll pull an all-nighter and research every aspect of hospitality law in Illinois that you can get your hands on. . .Or look up every department dealing with food and management regulations in the state. . .Or try and look at precedent cases. Your firm gave you unlimited access to West Law. Might as well use it for something slightly more interesting than trusts, estates, and contracts.

You’re unusually pensive for something you know you would love to do. The ongoing battle as of late has been the dispute between seeking joy and wading in practicality; happiness or falsified peace?

You rub your eyes with a roughness that would make your optometrist cringe. You know that staring at your computer screen five hours after your contracted work hours ended was the culprit for your dry eyes, but the hours you need are not going to bill themselves. Getting up to get your eyedrops will have to wait.

Replying to Natalie cannot.

Your fingers type and untype; the feeling of texting back an unknown number foreign and unnerving.

Thanks so much for reaching out and thinking of me! I would love to. What dates and times work for you, and where would it be best for us to meet?

The text stares at you on your phone screen. Why do you sound so. . . corporate? Boring? Infantile.

She could probably tell you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about at all. The feeling of defeat rises in your throat but you ignore it and hit send instead. You’re trying to be better about that; letting your fear of uncertainty keep you from taking action. You’ve come to realize that the hard part isn’t doing the thing. It’s actually sitting in the aftermath of the “thing” and waiting for the rest of the world to catch up.

You bite your lip so hard it begins to bleed and throbs with each pulse of watery blood that fills your mouth. The gentle suck you give it to stop the bleeding makes it partially numb.

Fuck you, Becca. Fuck you, Becca. Fuck you, Becca.

Natalie chirps when your text illuminates her screen. She gasps and sits up; startling Pete who had settled next to her after finishing the dishes. Her eyes curl up in the same way her lips do.

Fucking finally.

The world no longer feels like it’ll fall apart.

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beyondthesefourwalls · 9 months

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Something Worth Remembering

Summary: You were hopeful that you’d be moved into your new house before Christmas, but after another renovation delay, that’s not in the cards. To your credit, you make the most of the situation, and Bradley falls in love with you even more because of it. But he’s determined to make your first Christmas together special, and sets out to plan a surprise that ensures the holiday will be one both of you will always remember.

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader (no use of y/n)

(can be read as Forgetful Boy and Pumpkin from RYEWID, but not necessary to read that first)

Word Count: 3.7K

Warnings: Warm fuzzy Hallmark feelings. Language. Allusions to smut.

Notes: Some holiday action for my faves. Written for @bellaireland1981's Winter RomCom Challenge with the prompt "home for the holidays”. Also as part of The Forgotten Moments Collection, but can very much be read by itself.

—---

____

Bradley stopped short when he walked through the front door, eyes widening as he took in the scene in front of him.

“Um…Pumpkin?”

“You’re home!”

You popped up so suddenly from the other side of the counter in the kitchen that he jumped slightly in surprise. “Am I?” he asked slowly, closing the door behind him and bending down to unlace and take off his boots. You laughed brightly as you stepped around some of the shopping bags on the floor to get to him. He accepted the kiss from you eagerly, feeling the stress from another work day dissipate as he wrapped his arms around you.

“Contractors called,” you told him once you pulled back, resting a hand on his chest. Your ring sparkled in the light streaming in through the open curtains, and Bradley couldn’t help but smile before he registered the words. “There’s a delay with the electrician and the flooring.”

Bradley groaned, the familiar annoyance of hearing the word “delay” coursing through him. The home the two of you had purchased was a fixer upper, tucked into the end of a cul de sac in a neighborhood not too far from base. There was work that needed to be done to make it everything you wanted, but neither of you had anticipated all the headaches that would come along with that. It would be a long project, you knew, but the contractor you had hired had promised it would at least be livable within the first few weeks.

That had been nearly two months ago now, and the delays kept piling up. Barely anything had been done at this point, and he knew he’d have to call the administrative office tomorrow to extend the lease on the on-base apartment, again.

“Of course there is.”

You smiled gently, and Bradley couldn’t help but let some of the annoyance slip away at the soft look on your face. He took a deep breath and let himself relax, pressing a kiss to your forehead before releasing you. He gestured to the tiny apartment the Navy had provided you with, smaller than the shoebox you had called home back in DC, that definitely did not look like what it did when he left for work this morning.

“Is that why it suddenly looks like Christmas threw up in here?”

You threw your head back as you giggled. The sound caused a full blown smile to cross Bradley’s face, warming him from the inside out.

“I was holding out hope that we would be able to spend Christmas in our new house, even if it’s not finished. But since the electrician’s are delayed, the floor people can’t come until the 28th. So I decided to finally cave and decorate here instead. But I didn’t want to spend a bunch of money on nice decorations, because I want to save that for when we’re completely moved in next year.”

“So…”

“So I may or may not have bought out a good portion of the Dollar Tree Christmas aisle, and spent way too long deciding on white lights or multicolored lights for the $20 table top tree that I bought.”

Bradley laughed loudly, looking around your temporary home once again. Red and green and gold covered the minimal available surfaces, and a small lopsided tree sat on the corner table in the living room, a bag of what he assumed to be decorations sitting beside it. Your cat, Florry, was curled up on top of a pile of bright green garland on the floor.

"Who needs a fancy new house when we can have our own little tacky winter wonderland right here?"

Your eyes sparkled with delight as you spoke, clearly thrilled by the idea, or at least incredibly amused by it. Bradley knew that Christmas was your favorite holiday, and how much you loved the festive season. This would be the first one you ever spent together. When you had toured the house months ago, you had pointed out the perfect place for a tree and where certain decorations could go. You had been so excited to spend the holiday in your new home. As the delays started coming in you had adjusted just how grandiose your plans would be, but you had taken it in stride. Now you were only six days out from Christmas itself and you were once again just making the best of the situation that neither of you could control.

Not for the first time, he wondered how he had gotten so lucky.

"Alright, Pumpkin," he said, "Let me go change, and then I’ll help you make this the tackiest, most magical Christmas ever."

You grinned at him, a mischievous spark in your eyes. "Challenge accepted."

_____

The Dagger Squad had an impromptu and unofficial holiday party the next night at the Hard Deck, and it still blew Bradley away seeing you intermixed so perfectly with his friends, both old and new. You floated from conversation to conversation and when he wasn’t by your side, he watched you with a smile on his face. He knew you were perfect for him, but seeing you fitting in like this just reaffirmed it.

“How’s the house coming along?”

He looked over at Mav as he leant against the bar beside him, handing him a fresh beer. He was still getting used to being around his godfather after all this time, but they had settled into a peaceful kind of hesitancy as they relearned what it meant to be in the other’s life, and it was nice, even if Bradley had to remind himself to breathe sometimes.

“Slowly.”

His tone must have relayed how he was feeling because Mav shot him a sympathetic wince. “Another delay?”

“Yup.” Bradley let out a frustrated sigh as he ran a hand through his hair. “They can’t get the electricians in until tomorrow, which is when the flooring was supposed to go in. So now that got pushed to after Christmas”

Mav clasped a hand on Bradley's shoulder, offering a supportive squeeze. "It'll all come together eventually. How’s she taking it?”

He snorted as he brought the drink to his lips, taking another sip. “She handles stress and shit like this better than anyone I know.”

Mav smiled, nodding in what looked like approval. “You got yourself a good one.”

Bradley hummed his agreement and let his eyes stray to you, chuckling softly when he saw you dancing with Nat. Sometime in the last few minutes, you had stolen the Santa hat that Coyote had arrived with, the red and white material perched on your head. You twirled around with his best friend to the Christmas song playing over the jukebox, laughing merrily. You really did love this time of year.

You had told him that you didn’t care where you spent the holiday, so long as you were together. It was your first Christmas together, after all. But Bradley still felt guilty over not being able to get you into the house sooner. You had only been married for a few months, and you had given up your whole entire life to move out to California when he got permanently assigned here. It’s a decision you would make again and again, he knew, but he still wished there was something he could do, too. You had made far more sacrifices than he had. He wanted this holiday to be special. Memorable.

You were just a little bit tipsy when you got back to the apartment that night. You had clung to Bradley’s arm with both of yours the whole way up to the third floor from the parking lot, but the moment you walk through the door, you’re releasing him to go plug in the tiny table top tree. You plug in the string lights lining the kitchen counters next, humming a christmas song he can’t quite place under your breath as you do. You turned to him once the space was illuminated, the soft golden glow highlighting your smile.

“Pretty nice, huh? These cheap decorations aren’t so bad - I may just keep them for the new house, too.”

Your ability to make the most of everything made his heart stutter. He was in front of you in only three quick strides, one hand landing on your hip while the other cupped your face. He bent to connect your lips in a kiss. He could still taste the peppermint from the candy cane you sucked on on the ride home, and the taste of the champagne Penny had broken out at the end of the night for a toast. You didn’t hesitate to wrap your arms around him and return the kiss, both of you getting so lost in it that by the time he pulled away, he was panting.

“You must really like the cheap decor,” you breathed, and Bradley huffed out a laugh at your joke.

“I just really like you,” he quipped, and he enjoyed how a shiver went through your body at his response.

As you changed into pajamas and settled on the couch together, an idea started forming in his head. He thought he might know just what to do to make this holiday memorable for you after all.

_____

“Are you sure you don’t mind me running out for a bit?” you asked for what was probably the tenth time as you slid your sweater on over your head. Bradley groaned to himself as your body was covered from his view as he lounged in bed. He had been watching you get ready, enjoying not for the first time how getting dressed was almost always the last step in your process.

“I’m positive,” he said, also for the tenth time. You gave him a dubious look and he couldn’t help but laugh. “Pumpkin, I promise it’s okay.”

“I know, but it’s our first Christmas Eve together!”

Bradley moved so he was sitting on the edge of the bed, holding his arms open. You stepped between his spread legs and let your hands rest on his shoulders as he looked up at you, squeezing your sides through your red sweater. “Technically, it’s Christmas Eve morning. And I think you getting brunch with Nat and Coyote’s wife will be nice for you. You’ve been so busy with work and the move that you haven’t really had time to make friends.”

“I was already friends with Nat.”

He rolled his eyes at you fondly. “You know what I mean.”

You sighed again, fingers playing with the hair on the back of his head in the way that always calmed him down, even when he wasn’t feeling stressed out. He thought maybe the motion soothed you, too. “I think it’ll be fun.”

“Yeah,” you admitted slowly, nodding hesitantly. “I do too.”

“Then go. Have fun. I’ll be here when you get back, and we’ll spend Christmas Eve together. The morning doesn’t count.”

You snorted, but nodded nonetheless. He accepted the kiss you gave him right as your phone started ringing from the bedside table. Nat was there to pick you up, just like he had requested her to when he asked for her help with pulling off this surprise by getting you out of the apartment for a few hours today.

He gave it ten minutes after you had left before he jumped up and started taking down all of the decorations you had strewn throughout the apartment. It was easy work considering how small the place was, only taking him a few trips to and from the Bronco. He grabbed the small tree last, carrying it delicately so that none of the ornaments fell off and wouldn’t have to be reconstructed.

It didn’t take too long to get to the house at the end of the cul de sac that was now in both of your names, traffic light despite the holiday. He let himself in with the key that was still shiny with how new it was. He let out a sigh of relief when he flipped the switch and the overhead light in the living room actually turned on - with everything that had gone on, he wouldn’t have been all that surprised if it hadn’t. He made quick work of bringing in everything from the car, including the items that he had purchased and kept in the trunk without you seeing them this week.

He knew he had limited time, as Nat could only commit to a few hours of keeping you distracted, but it would be more than enough with what he needed to do. His phone buzzed right as he was finishing up a little more than an hour later, your name flashing up at him.

Pumpkin🧡: Getting the check! Back soon❤️

He sent back a response telling you he’d see you soon, quickly finishing up. He locked the door behind him and jogged to the Bronco parked in the driveway, and he was only back at the apartment for less than 10 minutes when you walked in the door with a large smile on your face that quickly morphed into horrified confusion.

“What happened to our decorations?”

“Hey, Pumpkin. How was brunch?”

“Were we robbed?”

Bradley barked out a laugh, shaking his head at your wide eyes. “Of our dollar tree Christmas decorations?”

You just gestured wildly around the space, devoid of any hint of the holiday cheer that had existed in its space earlier in the day. He laughed again, closing the distance to where you stood at the still open front door. He reached around you to push it closed before pulling you into him. He kissed your forehead, your nose, and then finally your lips, pursued in an adorable pout. “We weren’t robbed,” he assured you. “But I do have a present for you. Go get changed.”

“What?”

He squeezed your hips, smiling warmly. “Trust me?”

You eyed him closely for a moment before your pout eventually settled into a soft grin, and you let out a long sigh before you nodded. “Always.”

He kissed you again, a little deeper this time, but pulled away before he could get totally lost in it. “Pajamas are on the bed.”

“Pajamas? It’s 2pm!”

He only chuckled in response, playfully smacking your butt when you started walking back toward the bedroom. “Trust me.”

You got even more suspicious when you emerged from the bedroom and saw that he had Florry in her carrier at the door and had changed into his own pajamas. He twirled his keys around his fingers and then held open the door for you. Once you were in the Bronco, cat meowing at your feet, he held out a red silk piece of cloth that made your eyebrows shoot up.

“Seriously? A blindfold?”

“Think of it like a Christmas adventure. Now let me put it on.”

You huffed a breath but he knew you weren't actually mad - you loved surprises, and there was a smile tugging at your lips as you turned to allow him to tie the silk at the back of your head. He kissed your hair when he was done and turned to start the vehicle.

“You know,” you said casually, just as Bradley was pulling out of the parking lot, “this blindfold might come in handy later. We should make sure the headboard we pick out has appropriate accommodations.”

He groaned at the implication, a flush creeping up his neck on instinct. You giggled happily, knowing the effect you had on him. He rested a hand on your thigh as he drove, yours covering his in a familiar move. The feeling of your ring on his skin was one he had grown to love in the last few months since you’ve gotten married.

You threw out guesses the entire drive over, each one more extravagant and ludicrous than the one before. By the time he pulled into the driveway that one day will be an everyday occurrence, he was grinning so hard that his cheeks were starting to hurt.

“Don’t move,” he said when he saw you reach for the door handle. He jogged around the Bronco to the passenger side, opening your door. He helped you down before reaching back in for Florry’s carrier, pressing it into your hands so you could carry her, while he focused on you.

"Alright, Pumpkin," he whispered, his voice laced with eagerness. "Keep your blindfold on, and I'll guide you." His hand tightened around yours as he led you out of the car and towards the front door of your new home. Excitement coursed through him as he thought about your reaction, and he loved that he knew instinctively that it would be positive.

He loved that he knew you so well.

“Stay here just a second,” he instructed once he got you through the door. He moved away from you to quickly plug everything in, coming back to you once the room was cast both in the sunlight streaming through the windows and the artificial LED lights.

He stood in front of you, a grin playing on his lips as he watched you fidget with anticipation. Your blindfold was still securely in place, blocking your vision from the surprise he had prepared. You were so damn beautiful, and he would never understand how he got lucky enough to call himself yours.

"Okay, baby," he said softly. He gently took the carrier out of your hands, setting it on the floor and letting the cat out to wander the new space that he had cleared of anything that might hurt her, before moving to stand behind you. Your back flush against his front, he moved his hands up your arms in a smooth caress, settling on your shoulders and squeezing in affection. "You can take off the blindfold now."

With trembling hands, you reached up and slipped the silk cloth from your eyes, revealing the scene before you. Gasping in awe, your eyes widened as you took in the sight that unfolded in the living room.

“Oh my God. Bradley.”

The room was still very much a construction zone, but he had moved all of the decorations from the apartment, plus a few more that he had gotten, to decorate the barren space. The tree you had bought sat on the floor in the corner. Blankets lined the unfinished floors, as well as humongous cotton puffs to replicate snow. An air mattress covered with bright red sheets and a green blanket was in the middle of the room. Everything looked straight out of a tacky high school Christmas play, but it was so bad that it was almost good - whimsical and unique.

He watched as you took it all in, feeling his heart beating double time in his chest. When you turned to face him, there was a wide smile on your face, and tears shining in your pretty eyes. You didn’t have to ask for him to know what you were thinking.

“I wanted our first Christmas together to be in our home, even if it’s not finished yet. I figured we could camp out for the day. You-” The words were knocked out of him as you launched yourself into his arms. He held you for a long moment, pressing a kiss into your hair as your laughter settled. “You deserve something special, Pumpkin,” he finally finished, voice softer than it had been.

You pulled back just far enough to meet his eyes, your hands cupping his face. “All I need is you, baby. You know that?”

He turned his head just slightly to press a kiss into your palm, nodding once. “I do.” A smirk twitched at his lips, his mustache twitching with the expression. “Does that mean you want me to pack all this up and return your gifts, too?”

The gasp you let out was damn near scandalized. "Oh, no you don't!" you playfully swatted at his chest. You motioned toward the tacky decorations with a mischievous grin. "We can't let these go to waste. It's our first Christmas, after all."

Bradley chuckled, arms secure around you. "It sure is," he whispered, his voice filled with affection. He leaned down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss, the taste of anticipation lingering.

“Besides,” you murmured quietly, your eyes sparkling with a familiar look that had him warming from the inside out. “This gives us a jump start on christening the place. That air mattress looks mighty comfortable.”

Desire flared through him, and he wasted no time in scooping you up in his arms, carrying you bridal-style towards the makeshift bed. Your laughter echoed in the space as he laid you down.

“You know I’m gonna make you pack all of this back up and put it back up in the apartment until at least New Years, right?” you asked him, slightly breathless as he moved his kisses from your lips down to your neck, nipping at the skin.

Bradley chuckled, his hands pushing your shirt up, revealing soft skin that he loved to touch. “Oh, of that I have no doubt.”

Later, you lay nestled together underneath the green blanket, the crackling sound of a virtual fireplace playing from his laptop on the floor beside you while Christmas music played lightly from your phone. You were basking in the glow of the makeshift display as your breathing calmed. You pressed a kiss to his chest, right over his beating heart. He was sure that it skipped a beat at the gesture, but if you noticed, you didn’t comment on it.

“I can’t wait until we’re in here for good,” you whispered instead.

He hummed in response, tracing lazy patterns on your bare back. “Me too.”

You snorted after another moment, propping your head up to meet his eyes. “Hell of a first memory to make here, don’t you think?”

Bradley laughed lightly, a contented smile spreading across his face. It certainly was, in all of the best ways. “I’ll remember this forever,” he said, voice filled with warmth and conviction, because he couldn’t fathom ever forgetting any moment with you, especially something as perfect as this.

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

Main Masterlist :: The Forgotten Moments Masterlist

Notes: It's been far too long since I wrote anything for these two. I hope you enjoyed it! Likes/comments/reblogs are always appreciated if you did🧡

Thanks to @roosterforme and @mak-32 for all their help!

Tag List: @roosterforme @mak-32 @wildxwidow @gretagerwigsmuse @lilyevanswhore @too-fangirl-to-fuction @fav-fanficssss @notroosterbradshaw @teacupsandtopgun @sometimesanalice @sunflowersteves @littlezee80 @je-suis-prest-rachel @khaylin27 @infamous-reindeer @yanna-banana @avengersfan25 @wkndwlff @sylviebell @lt-spork @indynerdgirl

@mssleepy876b @kassieesworld @mizzzpink @a-serene-place-to-be @sexualparkour @sadpetalsstuff @almostgenerallyalways @alilstressyandlotdepressy @ccbb2222 @taytaylala12 @shelbycillian @mavrellover91 @vici111 @lunamooncole @blackwidownat2814 @pisupsala @bellaireland1981 @jynxmirage

@greatszu @na-ta-sh-aa @callsign-magnolia @chaoticassidy @thedroneranger @cherrycola27

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aster-daydream404 · 6 months

Text

Sipping Tea Under the Wisteria Blooms

Materials:

(Homemade) Air dry clay

Needles

Carboard

A4 bond paper

White acrylic paint

Gold acrylic paint

Violet poster paint

Blue poster paint

Clear nail polish

Dollar store wisteria flowers

Lavender gina cloth

lilac colored paper

A lovely three seated teaset based on the Purple Bloom Teaset from days of bloom— most commonly known as the Wisteria Teaset. It is complete with a dainty set of three tea cups, a gilded sugar bowl and creamer jug, a lovely tea pot with wisteria petals painted on it, and a tower of golden tea cakes for skykids to enjoy! The white gilded chairs are toped with soft plush lavender pillows, and the table (of similar design is lined with a gilded lavander tablecloth whose design resembles the petals of a wisteria flowers. This tea set is perfect for skykids to relax and idly chat in while the wisterias bloom.

I made this entire teaset for the SoraSky discord server’s Art Prop-ject contest. And although I wasn’t able to join due to forgetting to put in my description and submitting late (EUGHH THE CENTERPIECE KEPT ON FALLING APART ON ME!!!) I am still incredibly proud of how this project turned out 🥹🥹🥹 I wanted to make the purple bloom tea-set because it was a prop that I’ve been wanting since I was still a moth on sky. It was a memorable time for me, especially when me and my friends would chat under the wisteria tree in Forest’s social space🪻✨ This tea-set was made of love, struggle, sleep deprivation, and lots of planning. It was via this project that i was also able to appreciate the little details and intricacies that sky’s purple bloom tea-set has, giving me a deeper appreciation for the item and the artists behind it 🥺 So despite feeling a bit salty of how it ended, i hope this piece brings happiness to those who see it, just like how we feel when anticipating spring ☺️ 😉 🏞️ 🌱🕊️✨ [insert moomin reference ahsjshjahaha]

#sky: children of the light #sky: cotl #skykid #that sky game #sky children of the light #sky cotl #sky cotl days of bloom #days of bloom #spring time #wisteria #wisteria bloom tea set #purple bloom teaset #DoB purple bloom tea set #sky cotl DoB purple bloom tea set #my art #aster’s art #springdove #teehee #sky cotl fanart

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paper-mario-wiki · 7 months

Note

hi, i'm not the person who asked you about the life update, but could you elaborate on how being a creator means to live in a world of ideas instead of the real world? i'm just really curious about your reasons for quitting, specially because i want to create things in the future (not necessarily streaming, but anyways), hope you have a good day!

i'll be talking mostly about streaming for the sake of this answer, but this is similarly applicable across a wide range of platforms:

the job of the streamer is, effectively, to be the life of the party every single day. your goal is to be the person that has something interesting to talk about, and is quick with a joke, and has nuanced understandings of certain things, without actually obtaining any sort of "expertise" in anything lest you alienate viewers. short of having a stated goal for a stream, the only goal of the streamer is to let people relax with a voice they enjoy, saying things they like hearing. you can become very strong in different aspects of streaming, like in the production, or as someone who focuses more on a skill they've honed like art or speedrunning, but the demographic of streamers which pulls, by far, the most significant viewership, is personality based streamers.

this becomes more complicated when, for example, you are very interactive with chat, or you stream with multiple people at once. now, to maintain this charismatic sway you have (the one that got you the job in the first place), you must be able to adapt to and bounce off of other people, as you are now no longer performing alone. naturally, there's a need to not only manage your own flow of consciousness, but also to be at least partially in sync with someone else's.

beyond these complications, you must also consider drawing in new viewership. when i was a streamer, i was quite successful, relatively speaking. pulling 300 viewers consistently is something a very slim amount of streamers can actually do, and even then i was still making under 50k a year, which is not bad, but also not good. in paying for my apartment, my insurance, my travel fare, and all the other stuff that living independently draws money out of you with, i was more often in the red than i was in the green. hence, the need to draw in new viewers, which cannot be done without something eye-catching.

think about this: there are, at any given time, TENS OF THOUSANDS of streamers live in your native language on twitch, and they are all FREE TO WATCH. the attention market is sparse because the streamer market is oversaturated. and considering all of THEM want new viewers too, everyone is constantly refining and improving their craft, which requires everyone to move creatively in tandem with each other lest they get left behind.

if you are a streamer making ass-dollars and ass-cents, it becomes easy to begin resenting people like jerma, solely because everything he touches seems to turn to gold. i personally found it easy to feel very disappointed in myself when peoples projects that seemed so simple would take off. it was a constant "why didn't i think of that!" situation, at least for me. and when you don't have the energy to keep that up, or the social stamina necessary to figure that all out while also being upbeat and happy in front of people near daily, it can become very draining.

what i mean specifically when i say the "world of ideas", is like. there would be times where i could schedule out my failures weeks in advance. i'd be so in my own head about the process, i could see the exact path i could see myself taking that would lead me directly to ruin. how playing games i actually enjoyed would steadily drop viewership, or how focusing on my studies would make people forget about me. and of course this is augmented by my anxiety, i know this is absolutely not the case for every streamer, but that overwhelming feeling of needing to find a new game to play, or a new gimmick to use, or a new ploy to get money that doesn't make you feel guilty even though your source of income is mostly queer and mostly poor young adults and your rent is coming up and you're $200 short but you also just had a fundraiser last month about a DIFFERENT emergency but you cant make it a bummer or else people wont want to tune in so you have to make it something fun like "you laugh you lose!" or "$1 art request streams!" while feeling nothing but anxiety while youre trying to sound like youre enjoying yourself even when youre asking 250 people to donate every 30 minutes or so and nobody seems to want to and chat is moving slowly and. and and.

well, it starts to eat away at you.

#anon

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totheblood · 1 year

Text

superposition. (five)

pairing: dealer!ellie x best friend!reader

summary: ellie goes to bloomingdales and gets a little brown bag, and you come over

warnings: 18+ sm*t! cursing, drug/alcohol mention and use, ch

a/n: this is not proofread! i am writing this on like six benadryl.. so don't hate me.. ok I love u and I am happy I wrote this also reblogs, asks, and replies are so appreciated and encouraged! thank u kisses

wc: 3.4k

masterlist for previous chapters

"no matter what we do, i'll be there with you."

Ellie was over this.

Sooo over this, she told herself as she found herself trailing behind Dina in a Bloomingdales, stopping at the Tom Ford counter to smell your perfume. Hands tucked in pockets as she glanced up at the sales associate that eyed her, a polite but forced smile on her face. In her blue and white flannel, Ellie was sure she wasn’t the target demographic.

“Are you looking for anything specific?” Her voice was sing-songy and Ellie was internally cringing at how she knew this was going to go.

“I’m uh-- looking for a scent,” Ellie awkwardly spat out. Obviously, she was looking for a perfume… at the goddamn perfume counter. “It’s um… sweet… or fruity.”

“Does it smell like a specific fruit by any chance?” The lady asked, it looked like she was in pain behind her smile. Ellie was sure she was just projecting. Her own nose scrunched up, indicating she didn’t know the answer to the question.

“I don’t know… it’s um…” Ellie looked around as if she was searching for the answer, “Maybe it’s lemon? I don’t know… it’s for my girlfriend. It’s in a white bottle with a gold label.” Ellie knew you weren’t her girlfriend, she wasn’t even sure if you were friends anymore but it couldn’t hurt to pretend.

“Oh, Soleil Blanc!” She practically yelled, picking up the bottle in front of her and spraying a bit of it onto a testing strip. She handed the flimsy paper to Ellie and Ellie had to mentally prepare herself before smelling it. Ellie brought it up to her nose and took a deep breath in, eyes fluttering closed as she did. If she closed them for long enough she could imagine you here, and instead of the annoying sales lady, there would be you. You would probably be smelling every perfume imaginable and holding tightly onto Ellie’s arm, but when Ellie opened her eyes you weren’t there. There was just the annoying sales lady and her.

“Is that what you were looking for?” She asked, fake smile still on her face.

“Um… yeah…” Ellie smiled as politely as she could, but she could feel herself shaking. It was almost as if she was on the verge of a panic attack but never really crossed the threshold. She never really flipped out or cried, she just shook for a bit and moved on. “I’ll take it. How much is it?”

“It’s only 295 dollars.” The sales lady said with a straight face as Ellie practically choked on her spit. How the fuck did you afford this? And why was this bitch saying ‘only’ as if that wasn’t an absurd amount of mone-

“Yeah, I’ll take it,” Ellie pursed her lips as she handed over her card. If she was being completely honest she had almost too much money and nothing to spend it on. And if she was being brutally honest with herself, the 295 was worth it right now. She didn’t want to admit it, but she needed you right now, and Tom Ford had your scent bottled up.

“Your girlfriend is a lucky lady,” She laughed as she rang Ellie up, putting it in a gift bag without asking Ellie if she wanted it wrapped in the first place.

“I’m the lucky one,” Ellie said instinctively. She was already playing the role, so she might as well commit to the bit. Ellie had honestly never been a girlfriend, so she didn’t know if she was doing it right, but she assumed this was how it went.

Apart from her domestic fantasies about you, she hadn’t really thought about being in a relationship. The idea made her sick to her stomach, but now she didn’t know if it was because she couldn’t imagine being with anyone but you or if her fear of commitment was out to get her.

She wasn’t a complete idiot when it came to relationships though. She had dated this one girl her sophomore year in high school which abruptly ended when the girl's father found out about them. Ellie was sad about it for maybe a week but moved on when she found something else to fill her ever-running mind.

Ellie wanted to be your first girlfriend, that much she knew, but that dream had taken a quick and bitter ending. Her face soured at the idea that she would never get that opportunity. She could never call you her high school sweetheart or any straight and corny crap she could think of. The sickly sweet dream was now something rotten. She was buying your perfume for fucksake.

“Aw, that’s so sweet,” She smiled again, tucking the receipt into the bag and handing it over to Ellie, “Have a good day!”

Ellie found Dina looking through clothing racks somewhere in the back, approaching her and leaning up against the wall, knowing they would be there for some time. Dina had to do a double take when she saw the little brown bag in Ellie’s hand.

“What did you buy?” She breathed out a laugh before turning back to the racks and holding up what looked like a leather jacket.

“Nothing,” Ellie sighed, rolling her eyes. She flexed her feet, looking down at them, anything to avoid eye contact right now.

“Why are you being weird?” Dina asked, deciding to put the jacket back and continue looking through the mixed clothes, “Like what did you buy at Bloomingdales that you don’t want me to know about?”

“It’s just..” Another puff of air from Ellie’s lips, “It’s a perfume. I just spent a ridiculous amount of money on it and I don’t want you to make fun of me for it.” It was a half-lie.

“What perfume?” Dina looked at her temporarily, causing Ellie to shift uncomfortably, but she quickly turned to another rack of clothes.

“It’s this one from Tom Ford…” Dina stopped in her tracks as Ellie spoke, “Called Soleil Blanc or whatever.”

Dina was frozen for a moment before she turned to Ellie, her hand on her hip and face serious.

“You bought her perfume?” Dina’s voice was sharp. She didn’t really know what was happening between the two of you but she knew that you hadn’t talked in a while and Ellie was barely leaving her apartment. It didn’t take a genius to complete the dots, but if it did Dina would still qualify.

“I-I,” Ellie stuttered out, green eyes wide as she looked around, “No, it’s not for her. I-It’s for me. I like the scent. It’s nice.”

“You’re so full of shit, Ellie.”

“I’m not.”

“You fucking are,” Dina rolled her eyes as she started heading towards the door, Ellie hot on her trail, “You’re probably going to spray your pillow and hump it while you pretend it’s her.” Not a bad idea, Ellie thought.

“I’m not!” Ellie followed her as her footsteps picked up, “It’s just a nice scent, and I like it. It’s not weird… I’m not a creep or anything, okay? The scent soothes me.”

“Yeah, cause she’s your fucking pacifier!” Dina whisper yelled as they approached the car, “She’s been your pacifier since junior year.”

“My pacifier? The fuck does that mean?” Ellie swung her door open, got in the passenger seat and buckled herself in.

“It means you practically rely on her to remain calm,” Dina explained, hopping in the car and breathing out a laugh as she shook her head, “I used to think it was just a weird friendship thing but I’m starting to believe you’re actually in love with her.”

The air in the car changed for a moment as Ellie stared blankly at Dina. She didn’t know what to say. Any claim that she wasn’t in love with you would come out in a stuttered mess and admitting to someone else that she was in love with you was something she didn’t feel like doing today.

“Oh my fucking god,” Dina sighed, rubbing her face with the palms of her hands, “You’re fucking in love with her.”

“Yeah,” was all Ellie said as she leaned back in her seat and let Dina drive her home.

She didn’t want to think about it anymore. That night when she got home and got out of the shower, skin still damp and hair still wet, she soaked herself in the perfume, put on ‘The Office’, and ate a frozen pizza. This was pathetic, all of it. The pining, the wallowing, the perfume. She fell asleep after pitying herself for a while, the day finally getting to her.

She was woken up by loud knocks on her door, jolting her awake. She was honestly pissed as she stumbled over to the door wiping the sleep from her eyes. She opened the door without thinking, the possibility of someone bursting through the door only to murder her sounding more than tempting right now, but when she opened the door she was met with your face.

Your bare face, tired eyes, and tied-back hair. No smile on your face, but your eyes had the creases in them that they had when you did. You were in your pajamas, like you had decided on a whim to come over here. Wait, why were you here?

“Uh,” Ellie said awkwardly, shifting to lean against her door frame as she looked at you.

“Can I come in?” you asked.

“Why?”

“Ellie, let me in,” and she had already moved to the side, allowing you to slip past her as she closed and locked her door. Someone could murder her, but if you were here the door was staying closed.

“Why are you here?” Ellie sighed, rubbing her face with one hand, voice raspy and deep from sleep.

“I…” You took a deep breath and steadied yourself, “Are.. are you wearing my perfume?” Ellie’s eyes widened as she shifted uncomfortably.

“What? No,” Ellie quickly defended, “Just tell me why you’re here before I kick you out.”

“I just was thinking about what you said to me at the gala,” you began, “I can’t get it out of my head, I can’t get you out of my head.” Ellie’s heart was already racing at this. Pathetic.

“So?”

“So?” you repeated back to her, “Stop being a bitch, Ellie. You got to confess now it’s my turn. Don’t ruin it.” That shut Ellie up real fast.

“I just didn’t know why it wasn’t the same with… her,” you looked down at her feet, fluffy socks covering them. Cute, “I just didn’t understand it, but I think it’s love… or love adjacent,” you sighed, “Fuck, I don’t know.”

“What about your girlfriend?” Ellie reminded you.

“She’s not my girlfriend anymore, it’s not completely over but we aren’t dating.”

“Not completely over? What the fuck does that mean?” Ellie knew she sounded like a bitch but she couldn’t help herself, all of it was too confusing.

“I don’t know, Ellie! I don’t know what any of this means, I didn’t know what it was like to be with someone else until you kissed me. This was your bright idea and it,” you took a long deep breath, rolling your eyes, “and it was a fucking dumb one. I already liked you at that point and it confused me, okay? I mean, what the fuck was that? You were going to fuck me to ‘teach me’, I mean?”

“Pe-”

“And stop with that shit! My fucking pet name? Seriously? This isn’t normal, this wasn’t normal and now you’re acting like I did something wrong by dating someone, who you helped me date? I didn’t know what was even happening until you were telling me you liked me days after she asked me to be her girlfriend!”

“Did you come here to yell at me?” Ellie said calmly. It was only making you more angry.

“I came here to tell you I liked you and you’re being an asshole so I get to yell at you!” You huffed, your nostrils flared and your hand had found its way to your hip. Ellie hated how much she was attracted to you at this exact moment.

“I’m not being an asshole, I just don’t know what you want me to do,” She pinched the bridge of her nose, looking you up and down, “You’re still seeing her, and I’m done sharing you.”

“I won’t see her anymore.”

“Are you serious?” She laughed.

“Dead fucking serious,” you scrambled to pull out your phone, “I’ll block her number right now.”

“You don’t have t-”

“I will.”

“Why?”

“Cause I want you,” you sounded exhausted like you had said this a thousand times before, “And no matter how hard I try no one will ever be you and I’m tired of acting like this isn’t what I want. Like you aren’t who I want.”

Ellie licked her lip, pulling her bottom lip in between her teeth as she rubbed at her chin. She was acting like she was thinking, but she had already made up her mind. She wanted you.

Ellie didn’t have it in her to be upset with you anymore as she saw the genuine desperation in your eyes. She wanted to kiss the worried look off your face, nip at your skin as she told you it was okay, that you were forgiven. She wanted to do that but instead, she walked over to you, closing the distance between the two of you.

"You better not be fucking with me," she warned, her voice coming out in a whisper, as her eyes flicked down to your lips.

You shook your head, your own eyes looking down at her lips as you stepped closer, "I'm not. I promise."

Ellie didn’t want to wait any longer. Without another word, she grabbed you by your hips, pulling at you but ultimately balling the material of your sweatshirt in her hands. She pulled you into her, pressing her lips to yours, slow and sweet. Like always, her eyes fluttered closed, as she felt you loosen up in her grip. Your own hand reached up to grab at her arms. You were just as touch-starved and desperate as her. The taste of your lips was making her dizzy, a mixture of sweetness and desire that made her head spin. She could feel the heat radiating between you, coming off you in waves. It smelled like lemon.

Her hands roamed over your body, grabbing at anything she could. Your ass, thighs, tits. They were all hers. She could feel herself growing wet as you stuck your tongue in her mouth and was only met with a moan. All she could taste was mint and all she could smell was lemon and she was certain she was going to pass out.

With a sudden surge of urgency, Ellie pushed you against her kitchen table, helping you sit on it as she pushed her unopened mail to the side. She pulled away for a moment to look at you. You looked so pretty with swollen lips, tip of your nose slightly red from her own brushing against yours.

“You’re so fucking pretty, Petal,” she pushed a stray hair out of your face smiling as she gently kissed your lips. It was short and sweet and made your heart race. The initial thrill was gone and you were left with heavy breathing and an intimate stare. Her hands dipped into the waistband of your sweatpants, pulling at them gently, “Can I take these off for you?”

She smiled and kissed you again as you nodded. She pulled them down and let them fall to the floor, leaning down to press a kiss to your thigh, making you shiver. You weren’t wearing anything special, just some grey briefs that betrayed you by showing the damp spot between your legs.

“Sit back for me,” Ellie instructed, moving you backward so you could put the soles of your feet on the table. You did as you were told, leaning up on your elbows to get a good look at her. Ellie pulled a chair up, sitting in front of you. Her hand grabbed at your ankle, rubbing the skin as she leaned forward to lick you through your underwear. The sudden contact made you gasp and close your eyes. She looked up at you and smiled, before licking again, and closing her mouth around your clothed clit and sucking gently.

All of her movement was excruciatingly slow as she pulled at the hem of your underwear, dragging them up and over your legs and throwing them to the side. This wasn’t the first time she saw you like this, but every time she did she felt her own clit aching. She leaned down again and slowly licked up your cunt, from your entrance to clit, sucking again as she flicked her tongue against you. As she did this her own hand traveled lower, sticking into the waistband of her pants and circling her clit. It didn’t help that you were whimpering beneath her, words that sounded like her name coming from your mouth.

She wasn’t being vocal this time, though. She was focusing solely on you and how her own pleasure was growing.

You moaned out loud this time as she slid two fingers inside you, her fingers curling upwards as she did so. Ellie's touch was both gentle and demanding, her fingers brushing a sensitive spot inside you, causing you to gasp out again. The rhythm of her movements never sped up, they were slow and calculated and she had only pumped her fingers in and out of you a few times before she was pulling them out and licking them clean.

Ellie stood up and guided you to the edge of the table, pulling one of your legs off the table and leaving one firmly planted on the table.

“You’re okay?” She checked in momentarily, placing her hands on your hips as you sat up.

“More than okay,” you smiled leaning forward to kiss her again. She groaned into the kiss and took a step back, stripping her pants from her body and pulling off her underwear, and throwing it into the pile where yours was. You decided to be bold and reach forward to circle her clit with your fingers, causing her to groan, throw her head back, and grip at the edge of the table.

“Fuck,” she cursed out, grinding into your touch almost forgetting her plans. Almost. She grabbed at your wrist stopping you, and pulling your hand off of her.

“Was that not,” you mumbled out, “was that not good?”

“No, shit…” Ellie cursed under her breath, “It was too good. I just.. I had other plans, okay?”

“Okay,” you smiled, still unsure of yourself.

Ellie lifted one of her legs onto the table, so her cunt was positioned right on top of yours. Her gaze locked with yours as she slowly ground her hips into you, earning a loud gasp from you as you grabbed onto her, your own juices mixing with hers. You could tell how wet she was which only egged you on, making your eyes roll back into your head as she ground faster into you, her own breathing heavy and shallow. She was panting as she gripped onto your thigh, nails leaving marks there. Her other hand reached up to reach the back of your neck as she sped up once again.

“Came back to me just for this…” She breathed out, “She couldn’t make you cum… She could never make you look like this.”

As both of your moans grew louder, Ellie’s grip only tightened on you, the phrase “you’re mine” falling from her lips multiple times. The pleasure and pressure was overwhelming, a deep knot in your stomach was begging to come undone.

“Ellie, I’m going to-”

“Cum,” she demanded as her movements sped up and became more sloppy. She was about burst. As your moans grew louder and faster, and she could tell you were about to cum, she pressed her lips to yours, moaning as her hand that was gripping your thigh rested on your table. You came as she kissed you.

She pulled away, her leg falling from the table as she leaned against the table, both of her hands gripping the edge. She didn’t want to look up at you, scared that you would have decided by now that you wanted to leave her. Reluctantly she looked up at your sweaty face to see you smiling at her, toothy grin and all making her smile back.

“Oh, you soooo have a crush on me,” you teased.

“Oh, shut up. So do you.”

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams x reader smut #ellie williams the last of us #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fan fic #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams oneshot #modern!ellie williams #college!ellie williams #ellie williams one shot

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starlaindisguise · 1 month

Text

sorry 4 forgetting i could post here X___X life is lifeing! but the fixation wheels never stop turning……I GOT SUPER INTO LEGO MONKIE KID AGAIN AND NOW I AM MAKING IT EVERYONE’S ISSUE :D !!!

here are my traffic light trio human designs!! i thought really hard about all of the little details soooo lemme just yap about those for a sec :3

MEI )) Han Chinese (based off of her English dub voice actor) !! I gave her lots of piercings, particularly nose piercings (in recent artworks of mine I have drawn the nose piercings with more of a dragon shape) and this cool like…ear chain piercing that connects to pink diamond earrings! I made her jewelry gold to represent how much of a boss she is, and also just because yk, gold, winner, first place, status, AMAZING? I feel like she deserves to feel like a million dollars but that’s just me! Also, fun fact, pink diamonds are one of the rarest and most expensive diamonds in the world. Maybe she got those earrings as an offering, or made fake ones to look cool. It’s your choice! I gave her bright green dragon scales around her face. Her nails are pink and blue because it looks good with her outfit haha,, I also gave her an ace ring because I PROJECT. She has a few cute bracelets (M.A.D. being the most notable) and necklaces I feel like she’d like!! Honestly I just gave her my dream fashion sense

MK )) White + Chinese (Up for change. I like a lot of different interpretations of MK!) I gave him hair clips to push back his side sweep! I also gave him little earrings but not a lot. I don’t think he could handle too many piercings wjsjsjs- I gave him a trans pin and an aroace pin, just my lil headcanons (I guess one canon. TRANSMASC SWAAAAG) I also gave him patches on his jacket; I like to think that Pigsy taught him how to use a sewing machine and he’s addicted to it. That’s why he has the iconic symbol on his back in my heart !! He has a heart and a dragon that Mei gave him :) On his hands he has some eczema scars and hot oil stains from dropping the noodles he delivers,, and that’s pretty much it!! His design is pretty minimalistic because I had the least big ideas for him :3

Red Son )) Black + Chinese !! I gave her lots of piercings as well, but I made them silver and black to contrast Mei’s gold! There’s a whole bunch of them he’s saur pretty !! He has some scars on his hands :(( I wanna also shade in his arms to give him more like,,, burns?? From the impact of the Samadhi Fire?? That almost look like magma? Like the dark fade that a lot of great artists do (one of them being @mariiilume to follow them NOOOOWWWW) except BRIGHT RED…well I don’t wanna describe that any longer because I didn’t even draw it HA UUUUH…Gave her bull ears and cute teeth !! He also has some cute square black nails!! Plus I lengthened their hair. They have such majestic hair it deserves to shine.

#lego monkie kid #lmk #lmk mk #lmk mei #lmk redson #traffic light trio #lmk fanart #lmk red son #HOORAAAAAYYYYYYYY #I LOVE THE #M #AAAAGGH

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foone · 1 year

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on the one hand, rocketry is really hard and it takes a lot of experimentation to nail down a rocket design, this is why we launch so many rocket prototypes, and a good rocket design can stick around for decades because it's proven. like, the russians have launched 430 protons because it WORKS, and even that gold-standard rocket has blown up or failed to make orbit like 50 times. you really can't avoid just having to occasionally blow up a rocket because it turns out something went wrong and in a way you didn't expect, in a way you won't expect until you try to launch it and it goes wrong. That's why you have range officers, after all. They're in a room with a big red button labeled "EXPLODE THAT SHIT" and they slam it the instant the rocket goes wrong in any way, because otherwise you have a missile deciding to go somewhere you can't control, and it's way better to blow your rocket up in mid-air than to have a couple thousand pounds of fuel slam into an apartment block or school for orphaned puppies. rocketry is hard, and the starship is clearly undergoing a rapid development cycle where they're throwing tons of money at it to try and get it working FAST, by building and blowing up a bunch of rockets, rather than doing all the testing on the ground to save money. if they have the money to toss at it (and reportedly the US military is funding this project, and they have some fucking deep project) then it's an effective and fast way to build a rocket. NASA doesn't do that, because they can't. They don't have the money. They have to do cheaper testing methods because they can't afford to just throw millions of dollars away with every failed test.

but on the other hand, it is absolutely hilarious when elon musk's big rocket goes kaboom, because LOL.

#rocketry

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insanityclause · 6 months

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When Tom Hiddleston landed his career-changing role in Marvel’s Thor back in April 2009, he never dreamed he would be playing the character for nearly 15 years. To be fair, no one did—except maybe Marvel’s mastermind Kevin Feige, who had begun laying the cinematic groundwork for a multi-billion dollar franchise. At the time, Hiddleston happily threw himself into extensive research and prep to play the duplicitous brother of Thor (Chris Hemsworth). “I was cast in April 2009, and I had about eight months to build the character from the ground up,” Hiddleston says on this week’s Little Gold Men. “So that was a deep dive into everything Loki from any comic book, any Norse myth, any saga, everything—from the whole run of Marvel comics to the ancient Scandinavian stories, and how he pops up in The Ring cycle for Wagner, and Jim Carrey is wearing the mask of Loki in The Mask.” Hiddleston was trying to discover “this sense of, what's Loki's impact on human imagination and culture? And then synthesizing all of that into the story we’re telling. That was such a delightful period of discovery and curiosity.”

Hiddleston’s scene-stealing portrayal made him an instant fan favorite, laying a formidable foundation for a character who went on to appear in six more films and the stand-alone series Loki. The two-season series threw the character into a new dimension and timeline, stripped him of all his creature comforts, and gave the actor new challenges to tackle.

“In successive iterations, [my approach] has been, how do I keep it interesting?” he says. “I genuinely say this to myself and to others: ‘We're not reheating yesterday's meal in the microwave. We're cooking up something new.’ It's trying to find new ingredients or new challenges for the character, for us as actors, so that it feels like the same person is growing. Because that's what human beings do. They don't stay the same, they grow. Sometimes they regress, but there's always movement.”

Hiddleston has gone on to star in a wide array of projects outside the Marvel universe, of course, from his Emmy-nominated, Golden Globe-winning work in The Night Manager to Jim Jarmusch’s acclaimed romantic vampire drama Only Lovers Left Alive and Steven Spielberg’s epic War Horse. But he’s definitely spent the most time with the God of Mischief. And though no official announcement has been made, the final episode of Loki season two strongly indicates the closing of a formative chapter.

The actor and executive producer stopped by Little Gold Men for a thoughtful discussion about the gift of developing and playing a single character for so long, the surreal fun of working with drama school classmates turned costars Gugu Mbatha-Raw and Wunmi Mosaku, and getting to come up with the character's last line (for now). Listen below, where you can also read excerpts from the conversation.

Vanity Fair: Did the series version of Loki feel a little more stripped down, or did you have the same kind of mindset playing him as you did in the films? Tom Hiddleston: Yes. I think it was stripped down literally in the sense of taking away the costume, but stripped down spiritually and in his soul. I thought [the concept] was such a brilliant idea, and it wasn't mine. It was [executive producers] Michael Waldron and Kevin Wright, and the great and the good at Marvel Studios. I thought for any character, if you were presented with your life and watching a kind of highlight reel of it, what would it add up to? Would it be satisfying? Would it be meaningful? Would it be amusing? Would it be disappointing? And I thought to do that with Loki especially, as it's the journey of a life that the audience is familiar with, but he hasn't seen it. I just thought it was a brilliant conceit. And then I leaned into this idea of the leopard being challenged to change his spots. Because you'd have to if your life ended up in murder by Thanos and humiliation. You'd want to try something new.

And that was really fun, developing a story which was actually very philosophical. It asks the question of Loki, as I hope it asks the question of all of us: Are we in control of the course of our lives? Do we have any free will, and can we break free from any kind of predetermination? It seemed like a great question, and a fun way to ask it.

You’re also an executive producer on the series. How did you take on that role? What did you get to do?

Honestly, it was such an honor and I loved it. I loved the extra imagining and problem solving. I was invited into the writer's room really early, season one, even earlier on season two. And to borrow the words from Lin Manuel Miranda, to be in the room where it happens, and to sit around the table and break story and crunch through the great creative ‘what if’ questions—what if Loki did this? What if Mobius [Owen Wilson] did that? What if they couldn't find Sylvie? What if the TVA ran on an energy source, and it wasn't energy, it was time?

Can you take any credit for bringing Ke Huy Kwan or your RADA buddies Gugu Mbatha-Raw and Wunmi Mosaku on board? I love that that was a little bit of a through-line, that you all got to work together.

Well, when their names came up, Gugu and Wunmi particularly, I was able to say, those guys are great. And Ke was just an amazing idea because actually, [his character] Ouroboros was coming to life on the page. Somebody suggested Ke, and Everything Everywhere All At Once had just come out. And I was like, genius: somebody call him now before we lose him. He was so joyful and optimistic and happy to be there, so honored to be there. He'd wanted to be in a Marvel project his whole life, I think, and, and he brought everything and more to that character.

The day he landed, he came from the airport straight to the studio, probably thinking, ‘I'll just say hello and go back to my digs.’ And Owen and I were actually rehearsing the scene before Mobius and Loki meet OB for the first time. And he came in and he listened. And then we got to the bit where we were like, ‘You're in the next bit. Do you want to do it?’ He said ‘Okay!’ And he stayed and rehearsed for three hours. I think he felt completely crazy having just [traveled] across the continents, but it was so brilliant. And the chemistry was so immediate between the three of us, and so funny. We all love Ke.

Thinking about your journey with this character and all the places he has taken you, has there been a surreal aspect to it? I think about you being in drama school with Gugu and Wunmi—now you're getting paid to play.

It's a wonderful question, and I'm never unaware of the great gift that this job is. Especially because it happens all the time,: I go out into the world and I meet young people or children, and they're so amazed that they’re meeting Loki. I'm obviously not Loki, but the response is so immediate and so emotional and so joyful. What a gift. It's the best job in the world. And I never dreamed back then that I would be part of something with such reach and for so long. It just is the most unlikely, surprising, delightful thing. And we—Wunmi and Gugu I've known for a long time. It is amazing to look and go, ‘Can you believe we're here, we're doing this?’ It is exciting too, because it feels right in some way and they're great actors. They are brilliant.

Do you get recognized as the character, or are people starting to recognize you for your other work?

Oh, it's always different. I went to a friend's birthday party the other day—a friend and his wife, both turning the same age. They got a taco stand. I went to get my taco and the guys were like, ‘Only Lovers Left Alive, man. Love that film.’ And I said, ‘Thank you very much. That's very kind.’ Some people say The Night Manager. Some people stop me in the street and go, ‘It's you! You're the dancer.’ And they're referring to some talk show, some bit of dancing I did on a talk show from like a thousand years ago, which really tickles me.

Speaking of dancing, I wanted to bring up your physicality. With the most recent season of Loki in particular and that time slip, did you have to have massages and stretch after? Because it seems like such a jarring movement.

It's jerky, yes. I had to put my body under a kind of relentless physical stress. But I think it pays off in the way it's presented. In terms of movement and physicality, it comes from my own admiration for other performers when I sense that there is a really, alive and visceral physicality in the performance. Some of people are great actors, very cerebral, very intelligent, but sometimes not always fully embodied. And I love the actors who are giving me a sense that the whole body is occupying whichever space that is. They could be on a horse, they could be driving a car, they could have just run in through the jungle. I don't know, it could be anything, but a real sense of physicality is always something I admire in other actors.

One of my favorite things in doing a little research about your work on this season was that you got to craft Loki’s last lin,e and it also maybe came from going on a run. Can you talk about that? Well, first on running, I love it and it is a big part of my life. And a big part of my creative life. Running outside, in space, in the world with only your own legs to carry you and your own breath to fuel you, I find incredibly freeing. And it's where I do some of my best thinking and dreaming and imagining. Things bubble up from inside you. So I often run at the beginning of a day, very early and with an awareness of what's coming, what the scenes of the day are. Sometimes things will bubble up. And maybe that's just extra oxygen in the brain, who knows?

But to the point about that last line: one of the things I kept trying to guide our team back to was that the whole series, both seasons, was really about finding purpose, or re-finding, re-defining, re-discovering a sense of purpose. And I think a primal need in all of us, is that we need our lives to mean something. So I kept coming back to this line from The Avengers, ‘I am Loki of Asgard and I am burdened with glorious purpose.’ And we kept thinking, well, if Loki has a second chance, he gets to redefine his purpose or re-imagine it. I went for a run and was listening to some film scores, and it was a beautiful day. I was thinking about the journey of playing this character and where it started, and all the people that I have had the great good fortune to work with and become friends with—that completely unique kind of soul-sharing relationship where you make something together. And I remembered the end of the first Thor film, and how emotional that felt and. I just suddenly thought, that's what he should say—but it should mean something completely different. Loki's last line in Thor, directed by Kenneth Branagh, is, ‘I could have done it, Father. I could have done it for you, for all of us.’ And of course his effort to gain his father's pride has been misguided and ill thought-out. And then at the end of Loki season 2, 14 years later, he turns to Mobius and Sylvie and says, ‘I know what I want I know what kind of god I need to be. For you. For all of us.’ It felt very resonant somehow. I hope the audience picked up on that.

Are you able to just say goodbye when it's wrap time, or do you have any sort of meditative, formal way of saying goodbye to a project or a character?

That's such a good question. I think it's a very honest, immediate feeling of relief, which they say is the most intense human emotion. You'd think it was anger or grief or something, but actually relief is—the way relief kind of washes through you, and a sense of finality that some finish line has been crossed and there are no more miles to run. And for me anyway, huge amounts of energy have been stored inside myself which had been poured out over time—over maybe 20 weeks or however many months.

I love that feeling of completeness. The great joy of what I do for a living is that it involves very intense, very close working with a team. And the pride that you can feel with your teammates, with your crew, with your cast—you just hang around and say goodbye, but it never really is goodbye. And there's just a sense of, like, “that'll do, pig,” you know? Yeah: that'll do, pig.

#tom hiddleston #loki #little gold men #emmy fyc interview #babe

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floridensis · 1 year

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Miami Wilds would be bad for families and wildlife. Commission should hit the brakes

On Sept. 6, Miami-Dade County commissioners will vote on one of the worst projects they have considered in years. The Miami Wilds waterpark project is a taxpayer boondoggle that is as environmentally destructive as it is bad for Miami families — with a taxpayer price tag so high you would think it was a waterslide made of gold.

Bat Conservation International asks the commission to stand up against this deeply flawed project — and we are asking taxpayers to call their commissioners ahead of this critical vote to encourage them to not to rubber stamp something not in the interests of local residents and their families.

The Miami Wilds water park would be built in endangered species’ habitat next door to Zoo Miami. Millions in taxpayers dollars would subsidize a project that makes it more expensive to visit the zoo and jeopardizes one of the most important biodiversity hotspots in Miami-Dade County.

Bat Conservation International (BCI) has been working with our Miami-based staff and local partners for nearly 20 years to save the rarest and most endangered bat in the United States — the Florida bonneted bat — from extinction.

Zoo Miami is a biodiversity hotspot, hosting overlapping critical habitats for several federally endangered species and the largest fragment of pine rockland outside of Everglades National Park. Because the project’s location is an active study site for the Florida bonneted bat, we know conclusively that the area is not only currently occupied by the bats but is heavily used when the bats need to find food. The land proposed for development is a large, dark, open space, which is exactly what the night-flying Florida bonneted bats need to survive.

In the proposed location, the Miami Wilds offers inadequate financial return for the county, jeopardizes Miami’s unique natural environment and increases recreational costs to families visiting the zoo.

And the taxpayers of Miami-Dade County have an opportunity to stand up for Miami’s environment, economy and families by voicing their opinion before to the County Commission’s Sept. 6 meeting. Tell commissioners to put the brakes on Miami Wilds.

#miami #conservation #ecology #florida #bats

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lovelytsunoda · 21 days

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chateau ( feel alright ) | kyle kirkwood

summary: powers out in andretti house. stuck working together on a project for their business marketing class, kyle and yn find themselves stuck in his dorm with no lights and no heating

pairing: college!kyle kirkwood x college! reader

warnings: you’ve heard of only one bed, get ready for only one ✨blanket✨ santino slander (and rightly so). kyle is such a himbo my lordy I love him. kinda slow burn since they don’t kiss right until the end (sort like in my other Kyle fic lmao)

there was a certain kind of charm to kyle kirkwoods dorm room at andretti house.

sure, the florida panthers jersey hung above the couch screamed ‘frat boy’ and he had an impressive collection of shot glasses lined up underneath the tv, and since he and his roommate were both hockey players, the main room tended to stink of sweaty locker room as they liked their gear in a corner, but it was proof that people lived there.

kyle never would have been her first choice as partner for this assignment, but she didn’t have many friends left in the program, and they’d all paired up with each other. lest she get paired with santino, who was so much of an asshole that she would rather get hit by a bus than work on a mid term with him, she’d turned to the boy who was sitting behind her and asked if he had a partner yet.

kyle thought he was crazy for saying yes. typically he paired with colton and the two of them somehow wrangled their way to an a-minus. everybody knew that professor rahal was a hardass, so every choice in partner counted.

but when he saw her pretty, pleading eyes behind those wire rimmed glasses, he couldn’t find it in him to turn her down.

“according to the simulation, social media interaction including view counts is higher when we post reel-like content.”

kyle was barely listening, watching as her delicate fingers tracked across the keyboard. her earrings were little gold pumpkins, they complimented her skin nicely. everything about her was warm and inviting.

he’d let her connect to the dorms small speaker system, and she’d chosen a britpop playlist, an early oasis song playing softly in the background. it wasn’t something he’d thought she’d listen to, but now that he could see her tapping her fingernails on the keyboard while she hummed along, it just seemed to make perfect sense, fitting in perfectly with his vision of her.

kyle kirkwood was totally and utterly infatuated with her.

“kyle?” she asked softly “are you listening to me?”

he blinked rapidly, trying to remember what she had asked. “yes, right, you were talking about short form video content and engagement.”

“I’m impressed.” she smiled. “you’re smarter than you look, kirkwood.”

“I aim to please.”

“good. now give me a hand with this next bit.”

she beckoned kyle over with two fingers, making space for him in the rug next to the coffee table. their mismatched dollar-store mugs of coffee were empty on the table behind her laptop, papers and notebooks spread out across the table.

“now, for this part here-“ she was cut off by an ominous beep, all the lights in the dormitory shutting off one by one.

the clocks on the stovetop and microwave shut off soon after, the living room illuminated only by her laptop, which now proudly displayed the “no internet” message.

“shit.” she cursed, leaning back against the couch. “the outage crashed the simulation.”

“well,” kyle tried to stay positive. “there’s got to be something that we can do in the meantime. truth or dare? never have i ever?”

she laughed, head in her hands. she could smell his cologne from here. well, she was sure it more like aerosol deodorant. something strong, like axe or lynx.

“what are you, five?”

all kyle could smell was her. vanilla and cinnamon. she was intoxicating.

“yeah. five heads taller than you.”

she paused, looking at him with a confused glance before she burst out laughing. god, he loved hearing her laugh. “kyle, that’s so bad!”

kyle laughed along with her until he felt the temperature in the flat had dropped markedly. he could see her shiver, his protective instincts jumping out.

he pushed himself up from the floor, disappearing into his small room. there wasn’t much in there. just some hockey gear, a desk, a twin bed and a rickety bookshelf. there was a plush blanket folded up at the foot of the bed, which he grabbed after pulling a cable knit sweater over his head.

he went back into the living room, gently draping the blanket over he shoulders.

“better?” he asked quietly, feeling some kind of intimacy that definitely wasn’t there before. his hand still rested on her upper back, warm and grounding through the blanket as she pulled it around her shoulders.

“warmer, yeah.” she turned to face him, rubbing at the corner of her eye. “what do we do now?”

“we could watch a movie or something until the power comes back on.” kyle suggested. “logan isn’t supposed to be back until later, you can stay as long as you want.”

he really didn’t want her to leave. in fact, he wanted her to stay forever, turn his silly dorm into a home. he wanted to be with her for as long as possible.

“I suppose so. It’s not like we can do anything constructive, and I don’t want the night to be a total write off. do you have a dvd player?”

Kyle raised an eyebrow. “you do?”

“it’s to watch my criminal minds box set.”

“I was just going to use my cell phone data. I have unlimited.” kyle said, switching on netflix. “what did you want to see?”

“how much do you like matthew mcconaughey and have you ever heard of the lincoln lawyer?” she grinned. “it’s one of my favourite legal thrillers.”

Kyle pulled up the movie as she shut her laptop, propping the phone up against one of the empty mugs. they settled in next to each other, hands resting on the ground with a conspicuous gap between them.

she yearned to reach over and take Kyle’s hand in hers, but the idea of being flirted with just made her fell so awkward and uncomfy. she just wanted a warm, comfortable love, but she supposed she had to start somewhere.

she inches her pink in finger towards Kyle’s multiple times before eventually bringing her hand back and settling it in her lap, pulling the blanket tighter.

Kyle turned to look at her, the way her face was illuminated in the soft blue light. on the screen, tv lawyer mickey haller was meeting with a new client in the county lockup. Kyle was mesmerized at the soft concentration on her face, the way her face was gently scrunched with focus.

a shiver ran through his body, and he found himself reaching for a corner of the blanket.

“Kyle.” she laughed. god, Kyle would do anything to hear that laugh again. “this is my blanket. go get your own.”

he was so fucking whipped.

“what if I miss something important?” he tried to give her his best impression at puppy dog eyes. “you’d have to explain the whole movie to me, I’d be so lost.”

she smiled, rolling her eyes. “fine.” she unwrapped herself, tossing one end of the panthers blanket to the man next to her. “but don’t be a blanket hog.”

“I make no promises.”

they had to move closer together to be able to properly share the blanket with each other. their Jean clad legs were almost touching, a nervous energy surrounding the duo as they kept their eyes trained on kyle’s iphone.

“Kyle?” she asked quietly, voice barely audible. “would it be strange if I said I wanted to kiss you right now?”

Kyle turned to face her, reaching over to pause the movie. “I’d actually like that a lot.” he smiled nervously, reaching out to hold her face.

her skin was soft, and she keener into his touch, biting back a sigh.

when he kissed her, it felt warm and inviting. a comforting addition to her life, rather than fireworks and burst of electricity that would have disrupted it. his lips were soft as they moved against hers, and it felt like coming home.

she sighed under his touch, reaching out to gently run her fingers through his hair.

she didn’t want to stop kissing him.

and he didn’t want to stop kissing her.

Kyle’s face was rosy, or it would have been if she could see anything.

“you’re really good at that.” he whispered into the dark, totally in awe of the woman in front of him.

“I dunno, I think I need a bit more practice.” she joked, hand resting on his knee. “maybe you could help me out.”

“gladly.” he beamed, leaning in to kiss her again.

#the cozy collection 2024 #kyle kirkwood x reader #indycar x reader #indycar rpf #kyle kirkwood imagine #indycar imagine #kyle kirkwood #Spotify

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