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#status: 302
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Hypermobile not as in "haha I'm extra bendy" or "I actually dislocate my joints a lot" but hypermobile as in "scrap everything you learned about moving your body 20 years ago and start over, you did it wrong"
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I wanna write a fanfic in news podcast format
Like Reply-All or Heavyweight or This American Life. But it's a fricken klance fanfic or some shit
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pdaliceliveblogs · 2 years
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...you know, I feel like he’d appreciate that.
Also, who the hell carved this, they did a great job. One of the Construction kids?
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ancientegyptdaily · 6 months
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ANCIENT EGYPT BY TRAIN (2023) — 1.01 Alexandria
POMPEY'S PILLAR (عمود السواري) is the name given to a Roman triumphal column in Alexandria, Egypt. Set up in honour of the Roman emperor Diocletian between AD 298–302. The giant Corinthian column originally supported a colossal porphyry statue of the emperor in armour. It stands at the eastern side of the temenos [enclosure] of the Serapeum of Alexandria, beside the ruins of the temple of Serapis itself. It is the only ancient monument still standing in Alexandria in its original location today. [source]
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absurdthirst · 1 year
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An American in Paris {Ezra x F!Reader}
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 14k
Warnings: Mentions of war/missing limbs, flirting, innuendo, oral sex(female receiving), body image issues, vaginal sex, loss of virginity, miscommunication, secrets revealed, angst, making up, happing endings
Comments: When you escape your family's expectations by fleeing to Paris, you meet an ex-pat named Ezra who stayed after the war. Touring the city with him, you fall in love until your past catches up to you.
A/N: Post WWII AU - set 10 years after war, mentions of finishing school but no mentions of skin tone or hair texture
Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers
**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.
|| MasterList || Ezra (Prospect) MasterList ||
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Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here
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Paris. The sounds of hammers and grunts of men working mingle with the hustle and bustle of the city. The sight and air of restoration and recovery nearly compete after the devastation of the war. There wasn’t as much as in some of the countryside, where the worst of the fight took place. Still, the scars of brutality of men can be seen on the roads and buildings, much like they can be seen when glancing at Ezra.
Finding comfort in the sounds and lights, he walks down the streets where he had once patrolled with a gun. No longer wearing the uniform of his former country, his now ex-pat status in this country is accepted since he can fluently speak the language. Almost feeling more at home here than he ever had in Tensa Parish, feeling a little morbid about returning to the city that had claimed his youth to the horrors of war, and his arm in battle. Over his shoulder, a bag contains the makings for a lovely, simple meal, and a bottle of wine to take the edge off the phantom pains that plague him from time to time, but it’s been nearly ten years since the war and he has gotten accustomed to dealing with the issues that come from losing his right arm. 
You glance up at the building, suitcase in hand, and sigh as you try to speak to the building owner in French. Your finishing school classes allowed you to speak well enough to get by but the owner doesn’t seem to understand you are his new tenant. A man approaches, a bag slung over his shoulder and the owner’s eyes widen. 
“Ah Ezra!” The man proceeds to rattle off French words faster than you can understand them and the man hums, nodding his head. 
He turns to you and tilts his head, “American?” He asks and you nod, “yes. From Boston. I just got here. I’m renting 302 and he doesn’t understand that I am the new tenant.” You explain and Ezra nods, turning towards the owner to explain who you are and Louis finally goes “ahhh.” 
He opens the door behind him and reaches for your other suitcases, helping you into the building. “Thank you so much. I’m not sure how I can repay you.” You tell Ezra but he shakes his head. 
“My pleasure, chérie.” He says and wishes he could assist with your luggage but he doesn’t have a free hand. You’re guided to 302 and Ezra follows, standing outside 301. “It appears we are to be neighbors.” Ezra says softly as Louis unlocks your front door and sets your suitcases down. 
“Then I must cook you dinner to repay you for your assistance.” You tell him and your eyes drift down to the hanging arm of his jacket, noticing his missing arm. You quickly avert your eyes, focusing on his handsome face.
Ezra notices your glance at his arm, or lack of one, and slides into a self deprecating grin of amusement. “Couldn’t pay my rent, one month.” He jokes. “Louis is a man who takes his pound of flesh.”
You giggle at his joke as Louis shifts to grab your key off of his heavy ring of keys. “I’ll be sure to pay my rent on time to avoid suffering the same fate.” You joke softly, “but I insist on dinner one night.” You tell him, wanting to make sure you know your neighbor in this new life you’re creating for yourself. 
Ezra nods, “very well, chérie. I shall inquire once you’ve settled into your new abode.” Ezra says and you offer him a smile. 
“Merci.” You tell Louis who nods and you step into your new apartment. 
“Another American.” Louis says to Ezra after you’ve shut the front door to 302. “And a pretty one at that. If you don’t go to dinner, then I will.” Louis winks and makes his way downstairs. Ezra chuckles, shaking his head at the sneaky old man. 
****
It’s been a few days since you arrived in Paris and you’ve spent that time organizing your new apartment. It needed some cleaning and you have ventured out to buy groceries. You are struggling with the bags up the stairs when you see Ezra again. “Let me assist you, ma’am. Well, as best as I can.” Ezra reaches for one bag and you thank him. 
“Anything helps. I am not used to the stairs just yet.” You admit and start to ascend the steps.
“One of the many benefits of living in Paris is the exercise you will become accustomed to.” Ezra follows you up the stairs respectfully keeping his eyes off your ass. Though he does get a few glimpses of your silky slip. You are a gorgeous little bird. No doubt about that, but he is sure you are not looking for a man like him to be eyeing you.
“I am sure I’ll be whizzing up and down these stairs soon enough. The cobblestones and my heels…now that’s a different story.” You chuckle, sighing in relief when you make it to the third floor. Ezra follows you to your door and you set the bags down as you reach into your purse for your key. “I appreciate your assistance, Ezra. For the second time. I really do owe you a dinner now. I have enough food. If you do not have plans, would you like to join me for dinner this evening?” You ask him, biting your lip as he sets the bag down next to your feet.
Your eyes are bright and almost pleading with him to accept your invitation. He wonders if you are lonely since he has not heard anyone knock on your door since you have moved in. “Only if you will permit me to bring the libations for this evening?” He asks, offering a small smile. “I know the most delightful champagne that will make you feel as if you are as light as a bird.”
Your answering grin makes his heart thump, unbeknownst to you, and you nod your agreement. “Very well. Champagne and I shall cook. See you at seven?” You ask and he nods. “Excellent.” You turn to unlock your door, “see you at seven, Mr. Ezra.” You smile and bend down to pick up your bags. “Don’t be late.” You warn playfully, stepping into your apartment. 
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He promises and you shut the door behind you. 
****
“Shit.” You hiss to yourself as the water boils over. It’s been hard to cook on a stove you aren’t familiar with and you struggle to make sure everything is ready as there’s a knock on the door. You sigh, rushing over to the mirror to check your appearance and you struggle to remove the apron around your waist before you compose yourself and open the door to Ezra. 
“Good evening, chérie.” He smiles and you can’t help but smile back, “come in.” You insist and step aside for him.
Stepping into the apartment, Ezra smiles at the way your own balcony doors are thrown open like his. “Dinner smells delectable, little bird.” He turns around with the champagne bottle tucked j def his arm. “Shall you show me the ice box to stow this in, or shall we open it now?” He doesn’t know how much longer you have for dinner to be ready or if you would rather wait to have the bubbly with the meal.
“Let’s open it now.” You tell him, “dinner is nearly ready. I just need to mash the potatoes.” You walk over to the cabinet to take out two of the four glasses that came with this apartment. “Not exactly ideal for champagne but it will have to do.” You tell him, setting the short glasses down on the table. 
“It all tastes the same.” He winks and manages to take the foil off of the bottle. You want to ask if he needs help but he tucks the bottle under his arm and twists his hand, popping the cork and you are surprised at how agile he is. He pours two glasses and you take the glass he holds out towards you. 
“A toast to two Americans in Paris?” You ask and he nods, “two Americans in Paris. Let us find what we are looking for in these cobbled streets.” He toasts and you clink your glass against his. 
Taking a sip, you hum in surprise at how delicious the champagne is. “So what brought you to Paris?” You ask him, curiosity getting the better of you.
He had known you would ask. It’s natural to be curious, just like he is curious of you. Setting his drink down, his hand unconsciously reaches for his missing limb, grasping the small nub that is left where his shirt is neatly pinned up. “I was here in the war.” He explains, his voice low and reflective. “I am sure you are much too innocent to remember the horrors.” You have to be in your early - maybe mid - twenties, just experiencing your first burst of freedom. “I came back two years later, feeling more at home here than where I am from.”
You aren’t surprised. Back home, a lot of men came back with injuries. Physical or mental. They were never the same so you can understand why he wanted to leave. “You’re from…Louisiana?” You ask, figuring out his accent, and he nods, “born and raised.” You smile, “that explains the accent. I like it. It’s smooth. Like whiskey.” You compliment him and take another sip of the champagne.
“What’s your story, little bird?” Ezra wants to change the subject, his heart aching at all the other information that you would have no interest in. “I must confess that I was surprised to find you alone with no chaperone, though times are changing.”
“Times are changing.” You echo, setting your glass down so you can drain the potatoes to mash them. “I - I wanted to escape.” You answer honestly, “to explore and find myself. All my life…I’ve been what my parents wanted me to be. I attended finishing school in London and after returning to Boston, I found that I didn’t belong there anymore. I decided to come to Paris, explore myself and this beautiful city. My parents weren’t happy but I had to grow up.” You confess and turn around to finish cooking the dinner.
He senses that there is more to your story but he doesn’t push. Knowing that he is just a stranger and not a confidant. “You have chosen a wondrous time to come, little bird. Paris at night is magnificent. Have you gone out to explore the city so far?”
“Not yet.” You admit, “I find myself falling asleep while reading guide books and I suppose I need to summon the courage to get out there and explore. The museums, especially. The Eiffel Tower. The Arc de Triomphe. There’s so much to see.” You confess and mash the potatoes.
“If you would permit me,” Ezra hums, biting his lip before he continues. “I could extend my own presence as a makeshift guide? I have spent extensive hours roaming this fair city and speak fluently.” He smiles. “I can give you the experience you wish, if you can bear my poor company for extended periods of time.”
You plate up the meal and smile to yourself as you turn back towards him to set his dinner down in front of him. “I will certainly take you up on that offer, Ezra. I wish to see the real Paris. The tourist things too, but I want to know the true Paris. It’s people. It’s food. The secret places.” You confess, setting your own plate down and you sit down.
“It’s food is delicious and the people are not as unfriendly as some would claim.” He wishes he could help you, offer a hand, but he offers a toast. “To Paris being exactly what you want.”
You clink your glass with his, a smile on your face. “To Paris being exactly what we want.” You correct and he hums, taking a sip of champagne. “Please, dig in. I’m not the best cook, but chicken and mashed potatoes, I can do.” You tell him, picking up your knife and fork.
“Cherie, it is a meal that I did not have to labor over myself.” Ezra reminds you. “It will taste like the most delicate foie gras I have ever sampled.” The use of a fork and knife at the same time is impossible, but instead of asking you to cut up his food, Ezra picks up his knife to attempt to cut the chicken without pushing food around too badly.
You bite your lip as you watch him try to cut into the chicken. You decide to help and you haven’t cut into your dinner yet so you move fast to cut up the chicken. Once it’s all cut, you reach out to swap your plate with his. Acting fast once again to cut up your own chicken and you set your knife down, just using your fork like he is.
“Thank you.” His voice is low, slightly embarrassed by the fact that you needed to cut up his meal as if he was still a child. He had come a long way in the last ten years but he still couldn’t do some things without a second hand. “I apologize for any grief that it might have caused.”
You tut, “don’t be silly. I can’t understand how difficult it is for you. It’s nothing for me to help.” You shake your head and start to eat using your fork. You want him to be comfortable in your home and he’s the only person you know in Paris.
Ezra’s smile turns onto you with simple pleasure. “You should not have feared about your cooking, little bird.” He assures you after the first bite. “It is divine to sample your culinary skills.”
You smile, pleased that he likes your cooking. “Thank you. Looks like I got something for that God awful finishing school I went to.” You chuckle softly and watch him enjoy the food. “I will have to cook for us more often. A balance between savoring the rich food of Paris and some home comforts. I make a mean fried chicken.” You tell him with a wink, enjoying his company despite harshly knowing much about him. “So how do you spend your days? Are you working?”
“I do not work.” Ezra admits, shrugging slightly. “My check from the military covers my expenses, although I do write poetry, badly might I add.” His words are wonderful, but he had yet to master writing left handed. “Sometimes I will deliver papers if I am bored or wish to have more money in my pockets. Or translate.”
You lean a little closer, “I should like to hear some of your poetry sometime.” You tell him, “and if you ever need someone to write for you, I am more than happy to volunteer my hand.” You say and fluster slightly when you realize how that sounds.
His thoughts are more than obscene as he imagines your soft looking hand wrapped around his cock. It would look much better than his own. “I will have to take you up on that.” He murmurs, enjoying the way your eyes flutter in embarrassment and you look down at your plate.
You clear your throat and scoop up some mashed potatoes. “Have you found love in the city of light?” You ask with slight curiosity. “Perhaps a beautiful French woman to occupy your days when you aren’t writing poetry.” You muse, your gaze flicking up to him.
“I fear that love has eluded me.” Ezra murmurs quietly. “Perhaps I am not looking in quite the correct spaces.” Your lip pulls between your teeth and he has the urge to bite it, then kiss away the sting. “Although perhaps a muse is right in front of me.”
You playfully glance behind you until you turn back to meet his dark gaze. “Me? I am no muse.” You assure him, “but perhaps we will discover one during our sightseeing. I- I am afraid I am of no use. I’ve never been in love.” You admit with a sigh, “my experiences would not assist you in your poetry.”
“Then perhaps I shall be granted the glorious privilege of witnessing your fall into the depths of amorous pleasure.” He smiles. “You are a beautiful woman and no doubt many men will court you. Wine and poetry, dancing and romance.”
You fluster again at him calling you a beautiful woman, ducking your head, “perhaps. We shall see.” You hum, picking up your glass of champagne and you admire him. He’s a handsome man, weathered like so many after enduring the war, but his eyes are sparkling and you know it would be easy to fall into their depths. He mentions other men when your current wish is for him to court you. “Shall we begin our exploration of Paris tomorrow? Unless you have other plans.” You add, not wanting to push yourself onto him if he is busy.
“I am at your disposal.” He nods his head and smirks when you fluster again. Wondering what could be going through your pretty head. “Whatever you wish to do.”
You hum, “I would like to go to the Louvre. There’s so many wonderful pieces. Pieces I’ve read about and I want to wander the halls and admire the beautiful art.” You admit, picking up your fork to finish your meal.
“It is a date.” Ezra hums. “I know of a charming cafe where we can have lunch if you would like to join me. Let me provide a meal for you, although my own cooking skills are non-existence.”
You nod, watching him finish his meal. “It’s a date.” You repeat, heart beating faster at the thought and you imagine walking along the Seine by his side, enjoying the city and his southern drawl. “Now…I got an apple tart for dessert. You fancy a slice?” You ask, standing up to take the empty plates.
“I must confess I am in possession of an enormous sweet tooth.” Ezra groans at the idea of a sweet dessert, and he loves apple tarts. “I would be honored to sample your tart, chérie.”
You giggle as you carry the plates over to the sink, working fast to cut a decent slice of tart for you and Ezra. “I picked it up from the patisserie down the street, I hope it’s good.” You tell him as you sit down and pick up the smaller fork you had set out. “I love sweet things too.” You confess with a smile.
“Then we will get along perfectly.” Ezra winks and groans at the sight of the tart. “It is delicious looking, little bird.” He promises.
You and Ezra enjoy dessert with comfortable silence and when it’s finished, you gather the plates to wash. “I best be leaving you to your peace. I’m certain you want to be with your thoughts after so long of hearing me wittering on.” Ezra says as he stands up from the table. 
“Absolutely not. You’re a great dinner guest. If you wish to leave, I shall see you tomorrow for our lunch and Louvre date.” You giggle and Ezra nods. 
“I’ll call for you around eleven.” He says and leans in to kiss your cheek. “Thank you for the delectable dinner, chérie. I will return the favor with a less deadly dinner cooked by a professional lest I am unable to cook.” He jokes and you grin, shaking your head as you escort him to your front door. 
“Sounds like a plan. Goodnight Ezra.” You say as you lean against the door frame. 
“Goodnight little bird.” He returns and steps into the hall. You watch him for a moment as he retreats to his apartment next door and then you close the door, leaning against it to close your eyes. You’ve never met anyone like Ezra. Certainly never met anyone who makes you feel like he does. After you wash up, you’ll pick out your outfit. You want to look good for Ezra, and hopefully he likes what he sees.
The next morning, Ezra takes great pains with his appearance. Waking up early, he decided to treat himself to a shave and a haircut from the barber down the street, knowing that he can often miss small patches of hair and he wants to be worthy of your presence. He dresses smart, his button down shirts slightly larger than fitted so he can slide them on without fiddling with the buttons. Once eleven comes, he steps out of his door with a small clutch of flowers he had impulsively purchased on the way back from the barber.
You inhale deeply, adjusting your dress for the umpteenth time, and you take a beat before you walk over to open the door to Ezra. "Good morning." You smile when you see him, his hair slicked back and freshly shaven. He looks handsome and your heart thumps in your chest. "You look handsome." You tell him, wanting him to know you appreciate the effort he's clearly put in. You hope he likes your efforts.
“Little bird,” Ezra slowly peruses your appearance, enjoying the way your hips sway slightly as you twirl around. “For the first time in my loquacious existence, you have rendered me speechless with your exquisite beauty.” He proses breathlessly. “While I must apologize for my own humble appearance, you would outshine the brightest star in the night’s sky.” He extends the flowers to you. “A humble offering to a veritable goddess.”
His words combined with the look in his eyes has you breathless, your jaw dropping slightly and your stomach twists. "I - you are a wonderful poet, Ezra. Truly, you've - no one has ever been so poetic about my appearance. Especially when I will be walking alongside such a handsome gentleman. Thank you, these are beautiful." You take the flowers, your fingers brushing his, and you bring them to your nose to sniff them. "I will put them in water and get my things." You smile, turning to walk towards the kitchen.
He’s proud that he could put such a look on your face, the quiet pride of a compliment. He believes it to be true however, you are a goddess and he is fortunate that you speak to him. Many beautiful women have uncomfortably avoided him, as if his loss of limb at the scar on his cheek were from accosting a woman. When you return he offers his one remaining limb. “Shall we?”
"We shall." You smile, taking his arm after you lock your front door, and you let him guide you down the stairs and out onto the bustling streets of Paris. Springtime in Paris is beautiful. The breeze, the flowers, it's incredible. "No wonder you wanted to return here. Paris is...unlike any place I have ever known. It has an aura around it that seems magical." You sigh.
Ezra chuckles, "clearly you have not been to Boulevard de Clichy." 
Your eyes widen, aware that the Moulin Rouge is there. "I wouldn't mind going there. To explore all of Paris." You say timidly, hoping he doesn't think you are scandalous.
Grinning, Ezra wishing he could pat your hand. “Then we shall have to make plans to go one evening.” He decides. “Dinner and dancing. Allow me to show you the more….jubilant side of the city.” He hums, imagining the wonder in your eyes. Would you be scandalized or enchanted with the display of eroticism? He feels the passionate side of you would be enchanted. “Perfectly respectable with an escort.”
You smile, pleased he isn't scandalized by your request. "That's a date." You squeeze his arm and he winks at you, making your heart stutter. You've never felt like this before, so smitten by a man so quickly. You know you must remain friends to preserve the only friendship you have managed to discover thus far in the city. 
"Here we are." Ezra declares when you arrive outside of the cafe, reluctantly letting go of your arm to greet the cafe owner. 
"Bonjour, Monsieur Ezra." The owner greets him and Ezra nods, unable to shake his hand. You are escorted to a small table in the window and Ezra uses his hand to pull your chair out. 
"Thank you." You smile as you sit down and take the menu.
“As you might have deduced, little bird, I am a frequent patron of this establishment.” He hums, nodding towards the menu. “Everything is splendid, although the quiche and Croque Monsieur are particular favorites of mine.”
You hum, “the quiche sounds good.” You look over the menu for a few more moments before you set it down. The waiter comes over and Ezra orders a glass of white wine, asking if you want the same and you agree. The waiter takes your order and you listen to Ezra order in perfect French and you fluster as you try your best to order. When the waiter leaves, you glance out of the window, admiring the Parisians leaving.
“Do not fret, little bird.” He assures you, watching as you turn your head to look at him again. “Your French is solid and you will only improve as you are immersed in the language.” He promises. “Often I do translations and I will assist you however I can.”
You reach for his hand, squeezing it. “I appreciate your help.” You say and release his hand when the wine glasses are set down in front of you. “To new friendships.” You toast, clinking your glass against his.
Ezra nods, smiling as he takes a sip of the wine he always enjoys. Somehow improved by your company. “So the Louvre today. I feel like we should be able to spend a lovely afternoon there.”
You nod, sipping the wine before you set it down. “Yes. I am excited. I studied art at finishing school so it will be wonderful to see so many famous pieces in real life. I am sure you’ve been before and are going to be utterly bored.” You joke, keeping your eyes on his.
“I assure you, every visit to the Louvre is special.” Ezra smiles. “But this visit might be the most special. The company is much better than my own.”
You fluster once more at his words, aware that you barely know the man but you can’t deny that he makes your stomach twist with desire. The food arrives and you start to eat, groaning at how delicious it is. “Oh my God. This place is a gem.” You tell Ezra after you swallow your first bite.
Your groan is sensual, almost erotic and Ezra’s cock twitches at the sound. He grins at you. “Do you see why I enjoy it so much, little bird?” He muses, picking up his own sandwich and taking a bite before setting it down to wipe his mouth. Just because he had one less arm does not mean he is lacking manners.
“Absolutely. I love it.” You promise, “it’s going to be a favorite of mine in days to come.” You assure him, taking another sip of your wine. After you’ve both polished off your delicious lunch, Ezra pays despite your protest. 
“You made dinner last night. It’s the least I could do.” He tells you and you nod, “fine but I’ll be making dinner again.” You promise and he nods, “and I’ll bring more champagne.” 
You stand up after he pays the bill. “That sounds like a fine deal to me.” You wink and take his arm as he guides you out onto the street.
The line for the Louvre isn’t incredibly long and soon the two of you are walking into the cool interior. The smell of the building always makes Ezra sigh. The scent of thousands of paintings and pieces giving the air a heady tone. “What shall we take in first, little bird?” He asks, curious to see where your interests will lead you.
You bite your lip, guiding him towards the nearest hallway, eager to see it all. “I want to see everything.” You tell him and he chuckles. You look up at the ceiling in awe of the paintings and the tapestry and you smile at Ezra. “This is incredible.” You exhale in amazement. “Thank you for coming with me.” You tell him as you start to admire the first piece of art.
“You are most welcomed.” Ezra watches you. Smiling as you get lost in the wonder of the museum. Lips parted as you gaze at the beauty in front of you, though he doesn’t even know what you are looking at. Too busy staring at his own version of art.
You don’t notice him staring at you as you admire the piece, in awe of the detail and you turn to finally catch him watching you and you reach up to pat down your hair. “Is there something on my face?” You ask, touching your cheek, feeling self conscious.
“Every hair is in place and your skin is as clear as a cloudless sky, chérie.” He assures you, smiling softly. “Forgive my lack of manners. I found your reaction to the art breathtaking.”
You fluster, shaking your head at his insanely generous compliments. “You flatter me too much, Mr. Ezra. I am a mere woman, not a goddess.” You reprimand him softly, “Now, let’s continue before I have no choice but to melt into the marble from your kind words.” You tell him and pat his hand, continuing to walk and admire the art.
“I am mistaken.” Ezra hums, his steps jaunty beside you and he grins when you cock your head in curiosity. “You are an angel, fallen from heaven to walk among us mere mortals.”
You playfully roll your eyes, “then you are the devil himself come to tempt me. With his perfect jaw and that gorgeous nose.” You compliment him, “come to shower me with flattery when it’s he who looks like Adonis.” You murmur, wanting him to feel just as flustered.
He preens, just every so slightly, at your compliments. Shaking his head and winking at you. “Adonis, huh?” He asks, smirking. “I can accept that. As long as my own fair observations are taken as the gospel truth. You know the devil was God’s perfect angel, until he wasn’t.”
You slap his hand playfully, “let’s agree to disagree.” You tell him and he hums, “very well. I am nothing but a gentleman.” 
His words still have your stomach twisting and you realize it feels like you’ve known Ezra for your entire life instead of one day. “And when the devil fell from heaven…he was temptation incarnate.” You add playfully.
“And what can I do to tempt you?” He teases, frowning slightly when he realizes how sordid he sounds. “Apologies, little bird,” he murmurs sincerely. “Please do not allow me to make you uncomfortable if I overstep.”
“Do not fret, you aren’t making me uncomfortable. In fact, I like it. I like our banter. As for tempting me…you’re already doing a fine job.” You assure him with a smirk, glancing at the piece of art you stop in front of, feeling his gaze burn into the side of your face.
Ezra hums, wondering what kind of temptation he’s providing. Since the war, his own companionship has been the occasional woman he has paid for a night between her thighs, not ashamed of that, but he knows that he is not a man most would look at as a potential partner. Especially after his return to the states.
You see his curious face and you giggle softly, “come on Ezra. Let’s continue. I want to see the Mona Lisa too.” You stroll through the museum, knowing you won’t be able to see it all but you want to see the pieces you’ve seen in books, that you’ve longed to see in person.
The two of you debate. A friendly conversation about pieces that you come across and observations that have you both in stitches as you continue into the museum and Ezra points out some of his favorite paintings. The hand tucked around his arm slowly morphs into your hand in his, allowing him to point as he brings up your hand with it. Standing in front of his favorite, ‘The Battle Between Love and Chastity’, he hums as he lifts your hand to press a kiss to the back of it.
Your heart thumps at his soft kiss and you offer him a soft smile. “Something you have experience with?” You joke softly and he winks at you, “perhaps.” You giggle and shake your head, looking back at the piece. You’re enjoying holding his hand and admiring the art beside him.
Ezra explains why he loves the piece in great detail, shrugging slightly at his impassioned he had become. “There is something about throwing away society’s expectations that I enjoy.” He tells you with a smile.
You smirk, “that I can already tell and I admire it. Being outside of the social norm. That’s what I wanted to escape. I didn’t want to conform or be a puppet.” You sigh, revealing slightly why you came to Paris. You squeeze his hand, “shall we continue?” You ask, clearing your throat when he starts to open his mouth, clearly wanting to ask questions you don’t want to answer.
“Of course, little bird.” You are not comfortable sharing and he would not dream of pushing you. Nodding, he guides you on to the next exhibit, simply enjoying being your escort.
You explore as much of the museum as you can, spending far too much time exploring the Louvre and soon you are back out on the bustling streets of Paris. “Thank you for today, truly. It’s been a day to remember.” You tell Ezra, squeezing his hand.
“I should be extending my gratitude to you, little bird.” Ezra protests, smiling at the way the low sun shines off your hair. “I cannot recall a more enjoyable or relaxing day.” He tucks your hand back around his elbow. “Perhaps we can reproduce the experience another time?”
“Absolutely.” You assure him, “I would be honored to be escorted around Paris by a handsome man.” You wink at him, “hardly a difficult thing to agree to. Next time though, lunch is on me.”
He shakes his head, knowing that you will argue with him if he insists he pay. “Then I will show you the best little cafes in Paris, you will be astounded with how much there is to offer in just our little neighborhood alone.”
“That sounds like a deal.” You smile at Ezra as he escorts you back to your apartment building. He’s charming and intelligent and you know it’s dangerous to feel this way so quickly but you can’t help it. He’s enchanting. “Today was incredible.” You sigh when you arrive outside of your door, “thank you for spending today with me.”
“The sublime pleasure was exceedingly mine, little bird.” Ezra reaches for your hand to kiss softly. His thumb rubs the skin before he presses his lips to it as he looks up at you. “Your beauty still surpasses all of the greatest works in the Louvre.”
Your heart pounds in your chest and you look at him, “you flatter me far too much.” You softly reprimand him, “especially when you are carved like the Greek statues.” You return his compliment and you love the way he ducks his head shyly.
“Perhaps by the profile with the hawkish nose.” Ezra chuckles. “Although my hair does curl when longer than its current styling.
“I’d like to see that sometime.” You tell him and you lower your hand from his, reaching into your purse to pull your keys out. “Thank you for today, Ezra.” You repeat and lean in to kiss his cheek, taking a beat until you lean back, turning to open your front door. “I’ll be inviting you to dinner again soon.” You warn him playfully, “you’ll be sick of me soon.” You joke, getting your door open and turning back to look at him.
“I am most dubious about that assertion, little bird.” Ezra nods and smiles at you. “May your evening be soft and luxurious.”
His words wash over you, calming you like a warm bath, and you offer him one last smile before you disappear into your apartment. He has wiggled his way into your mind and heart after a ridiculously short amount of time. You know it would be easy to fall in love with him. 
****
“Good evening Ezra.” You greet your neighbor when he opens the door  to your apartment and strides in. You’re at the stove finishing up dinner and he comes over to set the bottle of wine down on the counter. You’ve spent the past month getting to know the man and you’re in love. He’s smart, charming, and devastatingly attractive. It’s a combination that has you thinking of him nearly every moment of the day.
“Good evening, little bird.” Ezra smiles as he notices the glasses are already set out. “I will pour us a generous serving of wine and set the table if that is agreeable with you?” He has insisted that he help in some small ways since you are feeding him, never allowing him to help clean up.
You nod, “that sounds like a plan.” You turn back to the stove to stir the sauce, wanting him to enjoy this piece of home you’ve decided to cook for him. He works fast to set the table and soon enough, he’s sliding a glass of wine into your hand.
“It smells divine, chérie.” Ezra groans, leaning over to get a better whiff. “I must confess I will need to have the local tailor let out my trousers if you continue to feed me such scrumptious meals.”
You chuckle, “we can always walk more now that the evenings are lighter and the weather is better.” You compromise and he hums, “very well. We can indulge and then walk it off.” He winks and you sip your wine, setting the glass down before you bend over to check the meatloaf.
He can’t help but admire your shapely bottom as you lean over the little oven. Groaning quietly as the racy thoughts filter through his mind and he reminds himself that you are his friend and neighbor.
You stand up, unaware of his internal battle, and you get to work on the mashed potatoes. “Go take a seat. It won’t be long.” You promise and he nods, making his way over to the table with his glass of wine. It’s only another five minutes until you’re plating up the meal and Ezra groans as you set his plate down in front of him. After you’ve sat down with your own plate, you pick up your glass, “to home comforts.” You toast playfully, liking his answering grin as he clinks his glass against yours.
“I must commend you, chérie.” Ezra groans after just one bite of the meatloaf. “When we first met you claimed to be lacking in the culinary arts, yet every meal seems to be near ambrosia.”
You shake your head, “you flatter me far too much. Soon, I won’t be able to fit my head through the door.” You joke and he chuckles, “I am merely stating the truth.” You hum, chewing your first bite and after you swallow you say, “then I guess finishing school wasn’t the waste of money my parents think it was.” You half joke, knowing your parents must be furious at you for leaving without a word. “It’s nice to cook for you. I- I cook with passion instead of duty because I want you to enjoy it.”
“Passion instead of duty is always preferable.” Ezra acknowledges, tilting his head at mention of your parents yet again. You speak of them in a way that makes him believe that they are ashamed of you. “If you will give me your parents address, I will write a strongly worded letter telling them exactly how your finishing school has benefited and that you are a model lady.”
You smile sadly, “I appreciate that but I highly doubt they would believe you.” He chuckles softly, “I said strong worded, little bird. I can be quite convincing.” He assures you and you snort, remembering the time he convinced you to try escargot and you hated it. He had made it sound so delicious. 
“Yet you didn’t convince me to enjoy snails.” You retort and he chuckles, shaking his head, “touché.” You continue eating and once you’ve finished, you carry the dishes to the sink and Ezra stands, wanting to help you clean. “Leave them to soak. I want to go dancing tonight. You did promise to take me dancing.” You remind him with a playful nudge.
“If we are going dancing, little bird, you must change into your finest dress.” He hums, wanting to make you smile. “I will change into a suit better suited for escorting a lady as lovely as yourself.” He smirks at his words and winks at you again.
“Meet in twenty minutes so we can get freshened up.” You pat his shoulder and he nods, making his way out of your apartment to get ready. You rush around, changing into your finest dress. It’s bright red and hugs your curves, wanting him to be taken back by your appearance. You’ve known him for a month now and it’s hard to deny that you love him. You’re in love with him. He’s handsome but he’s so much more than that. He’s clever, funny, and he manages to make you feel like you’re walking on air. You fix your hair and makeup and grab your purse, heading to the door after you hear Ezra knock on it.
His hand shakes, pulling it back from the door so he can check his hair once again. He had checked in a charcoal gray suit with a red shirt and back vest. Slicked his hair back and dragged his razor over his jaw so that his skin is smooth, beside his mustache. The cologne was the finishing touch, and he hopes he is presentable for you.
You open the door to him, a wide smile on your face when you see him. “You look so handsome.” You coo, reaching up to caress his cheek, and he reaches for your hand, bringing it to his lips to kiss the back of it. 
“You look like Aphrodite herself. A true vision.” You fluster and squeeze his hand when he lowers it from his lips. “Shall we go?” He asks and you nod, turning to quickly lock your door, and he guides you down the hall and down the stairs, out onto the streets of Paris.
“Now chérie, I am going to take you to a club that is rather….risque.” He announces, grinning at you. “Is that agreeable? You will be perfectly safe, I assure you.”
You nod, “I came to Paris to experience life. I am most agreeable.” You promise and he guides you along the still bustling streets. “Where are we going Ezra?” You ask, curious now that you’re heading out of your normal walking paths.
“Folies Bergère.” Ezra chuckles. “There is also a dance floor after we are inspired by the cabaret dancers.” He wants to take you to a place that is famous and fun. One that you will remember your first experience. “We will drink champagne and dance the night away.”
It sounds like the perfect night and it is. When you arrive, you are escorted to a small table off to the side of the rows of seats and Ezra gestures for you to sit, immediately calling the waiter over to order champagne. “Now this truly feels like Paris.” You declare as you look around the ornate theater, in awe of its grandeur.
“Wait until the performance starts, chérie.” He hums, reaching for your hand as if it is second nature. “I know you are aware of the female form, but the act is nearly erotic in nature and I hope you enjoy it.”
You bite your lip, a little nervous to see what the show will bring and you sip the champagne after it’s poured and Ezra toasts to “new experiences.” You offer him a nervous smile and he winks at you since he’s holding his glass. The lights go down after everyone has taken their seats and you anxiously await the start of the show.
As soon as the music starts, Ezra turns towards you. Wanting to see your reaction as the scantily clad women rush out onto the stage and immediately break into a very perfectly choreographed dance. Every step is perfectly struck and position posed, fun and flirty, sexy and thrilling.
Your eyes widen as the women come onto the stage, starting their routine, and you’ve never seen anything like it. Back home, your parents would’ve had a heart attack at just seeing a woman wearing a dress that clung to her curves. This is beyond that and it’s thrilling. “Oh my God.” You grin, watching the dancers with delight. This is what you wanted, to see things you’ve never seen before.
You are entranced, bewitching to look at and Ezra happily falls under your spell. Watching the lights shine across your face when the spotlights move and your laughter and clapping is the music he hears. He’s fallen in love with you, completely and totally in love. “You’re gorgeous.” He blurts out, flushing slightly when the music is quiet and his proclamation was louder than intended.
There’s a moment where Ezra could have pulled back or rethought the idea that rushes through his mind. He doesn’t though. Caught up in the moment, he lunges forward and presses his lips to your urgently. As if he would expire if he did not sample your lips. Watching your eyes widen in surprise and then start to flutter closed as you moan quietly against his lips.
You reach up to cup his cheek, letting his lips press against yours while the music continues to play. When he pulls back after several moments, you smile and he nudges his nose against yours. "Ezra." You whisper so only he can hear with the music coming to an end and the crowd claps the dancers, making you pull back to look into those dark eyes.
By the time the show is over, Ezra feels tipsy. Not from the champagne, he is drunk on you. The feeling of knowing that his romantic feelings are reciprocated has him flying and he stands, still holding your hand and smiling down at you. “Chérie, would you permit me to escort you to the dance floor, where I might hold you closer than socially acceptable for the duration of as many songs as our feet can tolerate?”
You stand up, letting him guide you to the floor after you say “I’ll dance with you all night, my love.” You let him escort you to the floor where the band is playing and you inhale sharply when his arm pulls you close. You reach up to grip his shoulders, leaning on towards him until your forehead is pressed against his, as tight as you can get while the song plays.
“Little bird, I must confess something.” He whispers, swaying with you gently and wishing that he had his other arm so he could hold more of you. “I must admit that I have fallen for you. Hopelessly and desperately in love with you. With no possible end in sight.”
You giggle, almost drunk off of your emotions, and he leans back, hurt clear on his face but you quickly cup his cheeks, barely swaying as you force his eyes to meet yours. “I’m yours, Ezra. You have my heart, my soul, my body. I love you. Every part of me loves every part of you.” You vow. He’s told you the horrors he endured during his service and it didn’t change a thing.
He closes his eyes and leans into your touch, nuzzling your hand. “Perhap, when you are ready, we might….explore the art depicted in my favorite painting at the Louvre?” He ventures. He would never dream of pressuring you, but he aches to touch you, to caress your skin and lose himself in your body.
You shiver at the suggestion, your body lighting up at the mere thought of him touching you. You slide your hands down to his chest, “I’m ready. I’ve been ready for a while but there’s something you should know.” Your eyes flick up to meet his, “I have never…it’s - you’d be the first.”
Ezra’s breath catches and he stares into your eyes solemnly. “I am honored you would trust me with such a wondrous gift, little bird.” He murmurs softly. “I can assure you that nothing will be done without your enthusiastic approval.”
You nod, trusting him implicitly, and you stop moving as the song ends. You stare into his eyes, “take me home and make me yours, Ezra.” You demand, wanting him tonight and to give him all of you.
“I- yes.” Ezra breaths. “Whatever you wish, chérie.” He takes your hand and brings it up to kiss the back of it. “Let us make our way back to our abodes and we shall begin to become more intimately acquainted.”
You let him escort you through the crowd and out onto the now chilly streets of Paris, walking a little faster than you have known him to walk before as he guides you back to your building. “We have all night, mon amor.” You giggle playfully and squeeze his hand, “I’m yours for tomorrow too, not just tonight.”
“Forgive me, chérie.” Ezra flushes slightly. “It has been awhile for me and I must admit that I am eager to learn what makes you moan.”
You fluster, glad he’s eager to be with you. “I have wondered many nights what your touch would feel like. I’ve…explored my own body and know what feels good but I want to feel you, I want to hear you moan my name. I want you to feel pleasure.” You murmur, leaning against him as you turn onto your street.
“My little bird is a seductress.” Ezra groans, his cock twitching in his suit pants and he wants nothing more than to feel your heat around him. “Tell me, have you ever heard of fellatio or cunnilingus?” He asks, his voice dropping. “Using my mouth on your cunt to make you feel like you are flying?”
Just his words make your cunt bottom out and your stomach twists with anticipation. “I- I’ve read about it in my books. Novels. Books my parents didn’t know I had.” You confess to owning erotica and his voice has your cunt dripping and you walk a little faster, eager when you see your building in sight.
He chuckles, watching you pull away in your eagerness. “Then you won’t be scandalized when I tell you that I want to slide my tongue through your cunt until you are crying out my name and soaking my face.”
You gasp at his scandalous words but not because you are shocked. No, you are turned on. His words send a wave of arousal and need through you and you are practically sprinting to the front door of your building. When you fumble to open the door with your key, Ezra’s hand slides down your back to squeeze your ass and you drag him inside, pushing him against the door to press your lips to his, uncaring of your neighbors possibly witnessing your display.
Ezra groans and when he can, his tongue slides inside your mouth, drinking down your moan. His cock is swelling, rapidly hardening against your body as you press yourself against him. Wishing again he had both arms so he could pick you up and carry you to your apartment.
You kiss for several moments until a door slams from the floor above and you pull back, giggling as you start to climb the stairs to your apartment. Ezra struggles a little due to the situation in his trousers and you are fumbling with your lock when he comes up behind you, caressing your back. “Are you sure, little bird?” He asks, his voice rough and full of lust. It’s enough to make you shiver. You open the door and step inside, reaching for his hand. “I’m sure, Ezra. I want you. I love you.”
Nodding, he doesn’t insult you by questioning you again. He steps into your apartment and kicks the door shut. “Chérie, you tell me if there is anything you do not like.” He demands. “I wish for this to be nothing but joyous.” He will do his damndest to make it exactly what you want. “Now show me your bedroom.”
You take his hand after you set your purse down to guide him to your bedroom. He’s never been in here before and you fluster at the clothes that are on the floor from your rush to pick an outfit for going dancing with him. “Sorry about the mess.” You murmur and he chuckles, shrugging off his jacket to drape it over the chair in the corner. 
“Do not fret little bird, I’ve seen far worse.” He assures you and you swallow harshly, the quiet of the room brings the seriousness of this night but you still want him. You reach up to unclip his tie, knowing he uses those since he can no longer tie his own, and you reach for the hem of his shirt after you toss the tie to the chair. “I want to see you.” You request, keeping your hands on the hem in case he doesn’t want you to remove it.
“My arm-“ he swallows nervously. “It is not pretty.” He fears that you might still turn him away. “They did the best they could, but it is still a missing arm.” He holds your hand for a moment and then lets go. “But if you wish to see me, there is nothing I would deny you.”
“My love.” You let go of his shirt to reach up and cup his cheeks, “I want to see all of you. Let me love all of you. I do not care about your imperfections. I have my own. I simply wish to see the man I love. All of him.” 
Ezra nods, a lump in his throat, and you reach down to lift his shirt over his head. When it flutters to the floor, your eyes meet his until they shift to his body. The scars that scatter his skin from battle and the jagged edge of his missing limb. You aren’t repulsed, in fact, it makes you love him more for enduring such hardship. You lean down to press your lips to his shoulder, kissing along the scars that lead to his amputation.
He shudders, inhaling a ragged breath as you show him more acceptance than anyone ever has before. Standing before you in his trousers, he stands proud, enjoying the heated look in your eyes when they find his again. “I only wish I could assist you out of your dress, little bird.”
You shake your head, stepping back to reach behind you and pull the zipper of your dress down. “Do not worry about that, Ezra. You can take my panties off.” You wink and try to cover up your nerves as you let your dress fall to the floor after you kick your heels aside, revealing your underwear to his hungry gaze.
“Aphrodite herself.” Ezra groans, his eyes drinking in every inch of skin you have revealed to him. “I am a mere mortal in the presence of a goddess.” He declares, stepping closer and caressing your waist as he leans in to kiss you. You are still wearing a bra so he slides his hand around to try to unclip it while you kiss.
His tongue slides against yours and you can feel him fumbling so you reach behind you to help him unclip your bra, letting him drag it down your arms until it’s falling to the floor. You caress his chest, sliding your hands up until you are wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your chest against his. His hard cock digging into your hip and you want to see all of him. Your hands let go of his neck so you can reach between you to undo his pants, shoving them down and he kicks his shoes off so he’s only in his briefs and socks. 
“Can I?” You ask, wanting him to be comfortable and when he nods, you hook your fingers in his underwear to drag them down. Your eyes wide when his thick length bounces free in front of your face. “Oh my God.” You gasp at him and reach up to wrap your fingers around him instinctively.
“Shit.” Ezra hisses, his length pulsing in your grip. “I- I have imagined your hand around my cock many times, little bird.” He confesses. “And yet I find that my imagination was sorely lacking in the realization of how good you would feel.” He doesn’t want you to be fearful so he reaches down and grabs your hand so he can help you back to your feet. “I wish to taste you.” He croaks. “Lay down on the bed so I can strip off your panties and lay my eyes on heaven.”
You don’t deny him. Shifting back to lay on your bed, head on the pillows, and you watch him as he kicks his briefs off his ankles and is left only in his socks as he kneels on the bed. Your heart pounds in your chest as he reaches out to hook his fingers in your panties on one side of your body and he carefully manages to shimmy them down until you are naked. Once he tosses them aside, his hand slides along your calf until he’s gripping your thigh and you grant him his silent wish, spreading your legs for him.
“Heaven.” Ezra proclaims, his eyes fixed on the thatch of neat curls that cover your sex. “I will be washed clean of all my sins in the pool between your thighs.” He traces lines over your skin with his fingers and he bends down to press a kiss to your knee. Shuffling down, he lowers himself down as he kisses along your thigh.
His words seem too poetic for such a naughty act but your chest heaves as his kisses get closer to your cunt. When his breath washes over the sensitive skin, you whimper and his deep chuckle echoes in your bedroom. “Ezra.” You gasp when he leans closer and his tongue dips between your folds, sampling your tangy arousal, and your eyes close as the pleasure tingles over your body.
Ezra groans, the sound vibrating directly into your core and immediately he’s entranced. Addicted to you and the way your thighs tighten around his head. Flicking his tongue over your clit, he wishes he could spread your legs wide and hold you open while he devours you like the feast you are.
Your head is thrown back when he sucks on your clit, the pleasure making your head spin. You’ve never experienced anything like this. His wet mouth on your cunt has your heart pounding in your chest. “Fuck, Ezra.” You curse, panting as he pushes his tongue inside of you. “So good. It feels so good.”
Moaning, he loves the way your walls pulse around his tongue, trying to draw him deeper. He shuffles down until he is flat on his belly, turned slightly so he can lay on his right side. It doesn’t hurt to lay against his amputation and it allows him to still stroke your thigh and stomach with his left hand. Wanting to make this amazing for you and get you ready to take him.
"Shit. You - you feel so good baby." You sigh, reaching down to run your fingers through his hair, and your heart pounds in your chest when his dark eyes meet yours. "Oh God. So good." You pant when he slides his hand down, gathering up your slick, and he pushes a finger inside of you.
He has practiced this. With the women he had paid, so he is not fumbling like he might have been. Though you would not know there was finesse to his touch either way. Your cunt squeezes his fingers and he groans before he pulls his head away. “I am going to prepare you for my cock, little bird, you might feel very full but it is so I do not hurt you.”
You are nervous but you know he would never hurt you. You watch him, eyelashes fluttering as he scissors his fingers inside of you. "Oh God, Ezra." You whimper when he resumes sucking your clit. It's more pleasure than you've ever known and you love the man giving it to you. "Please." You beg, not sure what you are begging for but you feel the tension building in your belly.
“I’ve got you, I’ve got you.” He coos, pulling off your clit before he dives back into your folds. His fingers pump and curl up inside you, pressing against the spongy spots until your hips jolt up and you cry out letting him know he’s found it. Determined to make you cum, he presses against that spot again and again while he sucks your clit into his mouth.
“Oh shit.” You hiss, back arching as the tension coils tighter until you’re falling apart. Clamping down on his fingers, you moan his name and wonder how on earth you survived without his touch. Soaking his fingers, you grip the sheets and squeeze your eyes shut as the pleasure surges through you.
Liquid gold. That is what rushes over his fingers as you fall apart. Coating them and his wrist while your walls squeeze his fingers like a vice. Making him groan at how tightly your body will hold his cock as he works you through your high.
“Oh God.” You pant, slumping against the mattress as he withdraws his fingers and you open your eyes, shifting to look down at him, loving the smirk on his face after he sucks his digits into his mouth. “Kiss me.” You beg, wanting to feel him over you.
Crawling up your body is not as graceful as it might have been before the war. He cannot pause and kiss or nip here and there as often as he would like. When he finally settles between your thighs, his cock against your mound, he smiles softly at you. “You wish for a kiss, little bird? I will grant you all the wishes you desire. Just call me your genie.”
You chuckle at his smooth words, your hands caressing every inch of his body that you can touch. “I love you.” You murmur before he leans in to kiss you. You feel his smile against your lips and you love how happy you feel in this moment. His weight is braced on his forearm and you reach between you to grip his cock, wanting to stroke him but you don’t really know what you’re doing.
He grunts, closing his eyes slightly. “Loosen your grip and slide your hand up and down.” He breathes out raggedly. “Feel how the skin moves over the hardness underneath?”
You follow his order, amazed at how he feels like velvet despite the hardness beneath. You slide your hand up and down, your thumb swiping over the leaking head unknowingly and he groans in response. “You’re big.” You tell him despite not having anything to compare him to. He’s big in your grip and that’s all you can go by.
“It will fit, most assuredly.” He groans. “The clutch of your cunt will be like the hottest glove I have ever worn.” He rocks his hips into your grip and twitches in your hand. “Little bird, I fear I am much too enthusiastic for you to continue. Otherwise I might cause myself great embarrassment by finishing before we can truly begin.”
You loosen your grip and he sighs in relief, making you smile. You’re pleased he’s just as affected by you as you are of him. “Put me in.” Ezra orders and you swallow harshly, suddenly nervous as you guide him towards your cunt. When he’s notched at your entrance, he starts to slowly push inside of you and your hands grip his back, eyes closed as you brace yourself for the pain you’ve heard about.
Ezra takes his time, breaking you forward an inch at a time. His jaw is clenched and his arm trembling from the effort to take it slow. When you close your eyes, brows knitted together, he drops down to his elbow and kisses you. “Relax, little bird.” He promises, feeling your walls tighten in anticipation.
You slide your hands up to cup his cheeks, keeping his lips against yours, and you whimper when he pushes deeper, trying to relax when he tells you to. “God.” You pant, half wishing this was over and half wishing this would last forever.
“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” He promises, pushing his hips slightly deeper into the crevice of your thighs and smoothly through your innocence to completely fill you.
You gasp in pain but he soothes it away by leaning in to kiss you, distracting you, and you kiss for several moments, tongues tangled while your body adjusts to the intrusion. “Please, Ezra.” You whimper when his cock twitches inside of you. You want him to move, the pain now transforming into the beginnings of pleasure and your heart pounds in your chest at having the man you love take your innocence.
“We have all the time in the world, my love.” He assures you, not wanting you to feel like you have to rush towards bliss. His kisses keep you occupied for another moment and when he feels your inner muscles start to quiver, that he knows he can move without any resistance. “You feel perfect, the feeling cannot be described.” He is nearly speechless as he starts to pull his hips back slowly, keeping the movement measured when he slowly sinks back into you.
Your chest feels tight with emotion as he rocks into you, making you lift your legs higher. His groan vibrates into your chin after he presses a soft kiss there, and you slide your hands along his back. "It feels so good. Never- never imagined it would feel like this."
“Love making is supposed to feel good, like you never want it to end.” His words roll out, groaning slightly at how perfect you are. “I want you to feel nothing but pleasure with me.”
You chuckle softly, "I never want this to end." You confess, kissing along his neck as he moves inside of you with measured thrusts and when you lift your leg higher onto his hips, you whimper at the new sensation. "No one else I want to feel like this. Only you. I love you." You murmur, loving how you feel like the only people in the world.
“I adore you.” Ezra groans, closing his eyes as he rocks in and out of you. “My perfect little bird. So beautiful and trusting, so giving.” He kisses along your shoulder and groans when you squeeze him tight.
His honeyed words wash over you, making you feel like it's a struggle to breathe, but you pant out, "all yours." You feel that tension coiling in your stomach but it's slow, not as intense, just building with each rock of his hips. "Oh God, Ezra. I need-" You don't know what you need, just that it feels good and you want more.
“I wish I could do it, my love.” Ezra huffs, wanting to be the one to bring you all your pleasure tonight. “But reach down and rub your little button. The one I sucked on so satisfyingly.”
You reach down between you, your fingers finding your clit, and you whimper as you get the pleasure your body craved. His cock moves inside of you, hitting the right spot to make you whimper, and when he shifts his hips again, your head tilts back into the pillow as you cry out his name.
“Magnificent.” Ezra grunts, clenching his teeth together as your walls clamp down on his cock and you soak him in your pleasure. “Good girl. Good girl.”
Your eyes are closed and Ezra is leaning down to kiss along your neck, making you whimper, and you want Ezra to cum. “Baby. Oh baby. I want you to - please. Inside. I don’t care. I want to feel all of you.”
He shudders, imagining that feeling of filling you up and even though he knows it’s risky, he does. His pace picks up and he rocks into you with less measured thrusts. Half a dozen more times before he is moaning your name, pushing deep as his cock throbs and he paints your walls with his seed.
You close your eyes, loving how it feels to be totally consumed by him like this, and you whimper when he works himself through his orgasm, his seed pushed out of you, and you tangle your fingers in his hair to bring his face to yours, pressing your lips against his.
Ezra sighs against your lips. Enjoying the feeling of his high and he shifts so he can move his weight off his left arm, lowering himself onto you so it is not too uncomfortable for you. “I love you.” He murmurs against your lips.
“Love you too, baby.” You smile against his mouth, your hands shifting to caress his back. You love all of him, even the parts he’s missing. You adore him and you know you want to be his. You shift so he can lay on his side and you immediately move to curl around him, his cock sliding out of you at the move, and you don’t care about his seed dripping out of you as you breathe him in.
“I must confess that words are failing me, little bird.” His arm wraps around you, caressing your back as he tries to catch his breath. It had been such a long time since he had felt this way. Like he is whole. Not because of a missing limb, but because of your love.
“No words. Just us.” You murmur, closing your eyes as the events of the night catch up on you. He kisses your hair and you know you made the right choice coming to Paris. “Sleep, little bird.” Ezra urges, knowing you are exhausted. You hum, breathing him in and you fall asleep surrounded by him. 
****
* knock knock * 
The front door is shaking with the knocks, several in a row, and you are still asleep. “Coming!” Ezra calls out, struggling to pull his trousers on as he walks over to open the door before it can wake you up. “I think the door just about survived your incessant attack. How can I help you, sir?” Ezra asks, his shirt barely pulled over his head and untucked and he feels the other man’s anger as his eyes assess Ezra. He announces that he’s looking for you. “She’s thankfully still asleep right now, no thanks to your monstrous knocking. May I inquire as to whom is seeking an audience with her?” Ezra asks. 
“Tell her it’s Jacob. Her fiancé.”
Ezra’s stomach drops, his mouth parts but for a moment no words come out. “I believe you might be mistaken.” He manages after a moment of disbelief. “The lady is not engaged, she is unattached and has been for the duration of her time in Paris.” This is some kind of mistake. It has to be. You would not lie to him and keep a fiancé a secret.
“You are the one who is mistaken. She accepted my proposal. Her parents and my parents are close friends. She escaped to Paris and we thought she’d come back but it’s been a month and she’s - it looks like she has kept herself busy.” Jacob says in disgust as he looks at Ezra. 
You come out of your bedroom, robe hastily tied around your waist and your eyes widen when you see Jacob standing at your door. “Jacob? What are you doing here?”
“You are acquainted with this man?” The shock on your face is answer enough and Ezra feels like he has been played for a fool. He hears Jacob scoff and he can’t even remember to excuse himself before he is pushing past you to gather the remainder of his clothes so he can leave. You are engaged. What was this? Some kind of power trip for you? Making the poor fool fall in love with you before you go back to your life in America? Ezra growls, pissed that he doesn’t have two hands as he shoves his feet into his shoes without socks and grabs his tie and jacket.
“Ezra. Wait. Let me explain. Please.” You beg, trying to reach for him but he shrugs your hand away, spinning to push past Jacob and he storms down the hall. “Ezra. Please!” You beg, pushing past Jacob to follow him. 
“What do you want?” Ezra growls as he faces you. 
Your lower lip trembles at the disgust you see in his eyes. “Please let me explain. It’s complicated.”
“It is not complicated.” He hisses. “You led me to believe that you were unencumbered. When you have a doting fiancé waiting at home for you to warm his bed.” He is so hurt that he feels like he is going to lash out at you. “Go back to your fiancé.” He spits. “You can tell him that you slept with me out of pity.” Turning back around he tosses his jacket over his shoulder and quickly opens the door to his apartment, slamming it shut behind him.
Your eyes sting with tears and you turn to make your way back onto your apartment where Jacob is still waiting for you. “Looks like you’ve settled into Parisian life.” Jacob scoffs and you shut the door behind you. 
“I- I can’t go home with you. I love it here. It’s my home now. I belong here. Please Jacob. Don’t - don’t make me go home.” You plead and he shakes his head. 
“Your parents wanted me to bring you back. You know they are anxious for us to be married. When you left, they were frantic until they got your letter. They have been looking for you for weeks. They sent me here to bring you home so we can get married.” He tells you and you shake your head. 
You walk over to him, reaching up to cup his cheek. “You know I love you, but as my friend. Our fathers…they always wanted us to marry but - you didn’t even propose. It was - it was arranged and I didn’t want that. I want love. Don’t you want love?” You ask him. 
Jacob swallows harshly, reaching for your hand to lower it from his face. “I have love. Her name…Cheryl. She’s perfect and I- I want to marry her.” He admits for the first time out loud. 
You grin, squeezing his hand, “then marry her. You and I are good friends but that’s it. I love you but I’m not in love with you.” You tell him and he nods, “you’re in love with him.” 
He jerks his chin to the door and it’s not a question, its a statement. You nod and Jacob sighs, “your parents are gonna be pissed at me for not bringing you home.” 
You chuckle, “when have we ever cared about what they think? I ran away because they have controlled me for too long. My father is still engrossed in war time but we are at peace now and I want to live, to love. Tell them I’m sorry, but I’m happy here.” You tell Jacob who nods, 
“I’ll tell them.” He leans down to kiss your cheek, “be happy.” He murmurs and you nod when he pulls back to look at you. 
“You too.” 
He lets go of your hand and walks over to your front door, knowing he’s going to have grief when he gets home but it will be worth it if he can marry Cheryl. You watch him close the door and decide to get dressed and find Ezra.
In his apartment, the few tears he had shed have been replaced by stifling anger. Scowling and ripping through his closet, the bag on the bed lays open to be stuffed with clothes. He cannot live here any longer. The furnished apartment had been a very comfortable place to be but he will be reminded by your betrayal. Curses hissed out from under his breath accompanying his hurried packing, hoping that he gets done and leaves before the sounds of love making come through the walls.
You open Ezra’s apartment door that he neglected to lock in his rush, and you find him packing a bag. “You’re leaving?” You choke and he doesn’t even look at you. 
“Aren’t you? Heading back to your pre-planned life in America? What was I? Just a joke? Seduce the one armed man so I can titter about him when I have luncheons in Boston?” Ezra hisses and you shake your head. 
“My love-” 
“Do not call me that.” He growls and you swallow, “Jacob and I were arranged to be married. Our families have been close friends for our entire lives. Our fathers served together in the Great War and they wanted us to be a family. Jacob never proposed properly. I never received a ring. It was on paper. That’s why I ran away. I didn’t want to marry him. I love him as a friend and nothing more. I swear to you, I wasn’t engaged to him in my heart, only in the eyes of my parents. I love you. I’m sorry I lied. I didn’t - I thought that it would brush over and Jacob would get married and I’d be free. I should’ve told you. I should’ve disclosed why I was here.”
He doesn’t believe you, shaking his head, he scoffs. “Yet there was a man on your doorstep, disgusted to see me in his place.” He reminds you. “I do not believe you little bird, I regret that you believe me to be so gullible. You’re just like her.” He hisses. “Pitying me and believing my lost arm has rendered me addle-brained as well.”
You shake your head, "just like who? Baby, I love you. Please don't do this. I love you and I - I'm so sorry I lied. I didn't - he isn't - we aren't engaged. Not in the traditional sense." You urge him to believe you.
“She was my fiancé.” He reveals, his frantic packing paused and he looks up at you with anger and sadness mixed together. “She told me in letters that she didn’t care that I had lost my arm. She loved me. She wanted me. Until I went home. She had been sleeping with my best friend. Told me that she hadn’t thought of us engaged once I had been wounded.”
“Oh God, Ezra. I’m so sorry.” You choke, fingers twitching with the need to comfort him. “Baby. I- oh God. I know you must hate me now and I understand. I get it. I- I’ll go. I’ll go. I’m sorry. Just - just know that I love you. I’m so in love with you and I’ve never felt this way before. I know you think I’m a whore and just like your ex fiancé. I’ll go.” You choke, tears now streaming down your cheeks because you know it’s over. He can’t forgive you.
Ezra closes his eyes, his shoulders slumping and he sighs. “Little bird….” He chokes out, gripping the shirt he had been packing in a tight fist. “You- swear to me that you are telling me the truth.” He demands. “That you never wanted to marry this man and he felt the same towards you.”
“I never wanted to marry him. He’s my friend. Nothing more. I swear to you.” You sob, “he - he’s in love with a woman called Cheryl. He - we have been friends our entire lives. He’s protective and I - he didn’t know that I was in love with you but when I told him, he agreed to leave me here.”
Ezra swallows, hating to see the tears in your eyes. He drops the shirt and moves towards you hesitantly. “I am sorry.” He whispers, ashamed that he had made you cry. You are telling the truth, you love him and you never wanted to marry that other man. “Are you staying?”
You nod, “if you’ll have me. If not…I guess I’m heading home.” You murmur, glancing back at the door after you wipe your eyes. Still dressed in your robe, you feel vulnerable.
He takes another step towards you and cups your cheek, guiding your eyes back to him. “If you stay, I wish for you to be my wife.” He murmurs softly. “I want to be your husband. Not to own you or to make you unhappy. But to build a life with you here.”
Your eyes widen as his response, and you are surprised he wants to marry you. If he’d asked last night, you would’ve said yes without hesitation. “You want to marry me?” You ask softly and he nods. You lean forward to press your forehead against his cheek, “I love you. It would - I’d marry you right this second if I could.”
“I do not think we could find someone to marry us at this hour.” Ezra hums, lowering his hand so he can wrap his arm around you. “There is also the small matter of procuring you a ring. I am a man who believes in tradition, and will be wearing my own with pride.”
You let him pull you into his chest and you swallow harshly, “you want -” You’re speechless as you reach up to cup his cheeks. “I love you. I want to marry you as soon as possible. I want to be yours in every way.” You murmur, pressing your lips against his.
“You will have me, little bird.” Ezra promises, smiling at you softly. “Every bit of me. I love you. I want you to be mine and I will be yours. Forever.”
You nudge your nose against his, “forever. Maybe we can get a chateau in the country and I can have your babies?” You suggest playfully, sliding your hand down his chest to feel his heart pounding beneath your touch.
“You wish to live the life of a French country woman?” Ezra grins, “chérie, I will make sure you have your chateau and your babies. We might have even started our little family tonight.”
You sigh in bliss, “I hope so. I love you, Ezra. I am so glad I met you. You’ve changed my life and I - I hope we spend the rest of our days together.” You murmur, knowing you would never regret coming to Paris to escape your family. You are going to create your own family with Ezra. 
****
“Mon cher, come in. Lunch is ready!” You call out to the garden where your son is playing. Your daughter on your hip as you place the bread on the table. “Ezra! Lunch is ready!” You call out to your husband who has been painting in the garden.
Looking up from his painting, Ezra smiles. Setting the brush in a cup of turpentine, he calls out to André. “Come, we must eat.” He tells him as he walks over to kiss you and take his darling little girl out of your arms. “Thank you, chérie.” He murmurs, not just talking about the lunch. He’s talking about the life he has with you, something he had never hoped to have after the war and now he couldn’t imagine anything more perfect.
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lookismstuff · 1 year
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UPDATED: The Forms of Lookism as Portrayed in Lookism Manhwa/Webtoon
A list of the forms of lookism as portrayed in the webtoon from the beginning to this day (Episodes 1-508). I made this list as a companion to this post and this post. This list is cross-referenced against the arcs, so this might not always fit with the specific episodes that I mentioned.
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Bullying and labelling based on appearance (face, body shape, weight, skin color, perceived social status) (Eps 1-14, 46-50, 58-62, 139-148, 199-213, 83-90, 91-95, 153-157, 163-171, 264-265, 370-371, 452-453, 460-462, 481-492, 498, 507-508, 501)
Concealment of and discrimination against disability (Eps 255-257, 250-251, 258-263, 300-301, 399-410, 460-461, 481-498, 500-501)
Appearance-based exclusion in the labor market (Eps 96-109, 330-346, 360-369, 372-393)
Commodification of beauty in the entertainment and media industry (Eps 21-27, 28-33, 71-72, 96-109, 287-299, 360-369, 443-447, 474)
Stigma on scars and tattoos (Eps 17-18, 51-57, 178-179, 266-284, 411-429, 360-369)
Misuse of beauty in crimes (Eps 41-45, 75-80, 174-177, 214-218, 287-299, 330-346, 354-359, 430-431, 448-453, 479)
Stigma on parental or familial resemblance in children (Eps 302-318, 432-441, 466-467)
Body alterations and its various physical health, mental health, and legal consequences (Eps 320-324, 394-398, 443, 460, 466, 470-474)
Ageism, including prejudice against senior citizens and teenagers (Eps 186-187, 399-403, 443-447, 452, 453-454, 489, 491)
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i love this vid i'm laughing so much ♥
The Crows (But Mostly Jesper) Being Comedic Geniuses in Shadow and Bone S2 (SPOILERS)
https://twitter.com/ThisIsGSage23/status/1637361176097988608?s=20
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ayPKzlkWP7c&list=LL&index=9&t=302s
youtube
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thegrapeandthefig · 11 months
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This weekend was the Great Komaia, where I honour Apollo Komaios & Dionysos Komastes together.
The Great Komaia is one of the festivals attested in Thasos through inscription SEG xix 415.
The cult of Apollon Komaios is of Ionian origin. It is attested in Naukratis (Athenaios IV 49d) and Thasos (SEG XVII 415; LSCG Suppl. 69: Μεγάλα Κωμαῖα). The related personal name Κωμαῖος is mostly attested in Ionic cities. The cult was brought from Paros to Thasos and thence to the Thasian Peraia and Philippi. Macedonian colonists brought it to Seleukeia in Syria, whence the god’s statue was transported to the Palatine Hill in Rome. (Chaniotis, Angelos. "Epigraphic Bulletin for Greek Religion 2010 (EBGR 2010)." Kernos. Revue internationale et pluridisciplinaire de religion grecque antique 26 (2013): 241-302.)
The offerings are loosely based on the example of Naukratis, which is transmitted to us by Athenaios in Deipnosophists IV:
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I have made the personal choice to add Dionysus according to the closeness of the an epithet of his, komastes/κωμαστής, which has led some scholars to be unsure about who the Great Komaia was for. Dionysus and Apollon being the main contenders. So I have (quite lazily, I might add) blurred the lines even further by placing the Great Komaia on the same day as the Athenian Pyanepsia and Oschophoria, which also celebrated Apollon and Dionysus a day apart.
Because of the ambiguity of the epithet/name of the festival, where it is unsure if it comes from "kome" or "komos", the purpose of the festival is not certain. In the former case, it could refer to the ritualized procession to the music of the cithara or the flute. But if it is the latter, it would refer to Apollo as the patron of villages.
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joemerl · 29 days
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Writer's Month 2024, Day 23: "Lost"
Fandom: Harry Potter Status/Word count: An incomplete bit that I'll expand on later. 302 words.
"The Malfoys never lose."
It was something that Lucius heard ever since he was a child. The first time that he could remember was when he was about six, and learned that his father had quit his job as an advisor to the Minister for Magic.
"But why?" he asked. "I thought it was really important."
"Because Ignatius Tuft is an idiot," Abraxas said baldly. "Doesn't have half of his mother's brains, and soon he'll only have a quarter of her popularity. Mark my words, Lucius," he said, leaning forward and shaking his finger. "If Tuft gets reelected, I'll eat my hat."
Sure enough, the Minister was forced out of office before his term was even finished. "And not just him," his father noted at the breakfast table, folding his issue of the Daily Prophet. "Half of his cabinet members are disgraced as well. Look at Tullia McPherson. If you had asked anyone a few years ago, they would have said that she was an obvious choice to become the next Minister for Magic. But she decided to back up all of Tuft's fool ideas, and now she couldn't get elected if she Confunded half the voters. Meanwhile, I can step right back into politics and get cozy with Tuft's replacement. Let this be a lesson, Lucius," Abraxas continued, leaning down to his son once again. "Do you know why the Malfoys have been so successful for nearly a thousand years?"
Lucius shook his head. 
"Because we do not aim for the top spot—that is the easiest place to fall from. And when we see someone else falling, we get out of the way, rather than trying to catch them. And that is why," he straightened up, dark eyes twinkling, "no matter what happens to anyone else, the Malfoys never lose."
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Can y'all help me find the words to explain to someone why writing off my statement of my physical limitations (eg, "I can't move a couch") as "just ocd/perfectionism/brain stuff" is absolutely unacceptable? And why "just ask someone for help" is a dismissive response?
Need to educate someone but I'm at my fucking limit with them and would appreciate the response of someone who can put this into words instead of breaking down into tears of rage like I've been for the past two months.
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This was supposed to be a fun little summer fic
I'm 3 scenes in (out of 10) and I'm at 5,850 words. That's double my average per-scene rate.
The third scene is at 4,500 words on the dot. That's 77% of the length of the draft so far.
What. The actual. Fuck?
I think I just got possessed by the combined spirits of BØRNS' "Electric Love" and like ABBA songs and just spit out what is very likely my longest singular scene of all time? It's taken me 2 weeks to write?
I'm not even at the getting together part yet? It's just pure romantic tension?
Is it even any good?? I couldn't fuckin tell you
Honestly good luck to whatever klancers dare to read this fic when I drop it at like hopefully the end of the month cause y'all might need it
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innerchorus · 1 year
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Chapter 18 Narsus and the implication that he's seen Hilmes's face before he got burned.
The novel scene is very similar in that Narsus is also not entirely satisfied with the explanation that the mask is solely to cover Hilmes's burn scars, but also (apparently operating under the assumption that Hilmes is Lusitanian?) can't see why Hilmes would need to hide his identity: 'One reason to wear a mask was so that others would be unable to recognize his original appearance, but when among complete strangers in a completely unfamiliar land, such an excuse ought no longer hold. If it weren’t for those burn scars, perhaps even Narses himself would have unexpectedly recollected something with ease…' (Book 1, Chapter Five, part iv)
Meanwhile, Hilmes in Chapter 27:
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???
If he ever met Narsus before Chapter 18, he clearly doesn't remember him.
So a young Narsus (and presumably Daryun) may well have seen Prince Hilmes at the palace. Hilmes would perhaps have no reason to remember their faces all these years later, but his status would render him important enough for them to have paid a bit more attention to him. (And as Hilmes doesn't look identical to Osroes or that similar to Andragoras, I think it's hinting that Narsus would have recognised something more than familial resemblance here...)
Looking at timelines because I hate myself
Daryun and Narsus first met in Pars year 300. There's an anecdote of them playing a practical joke in the palace that took place around two or three years later (Pars year 302-303ish). The palace fire occurred in Pars year 304. So they were definitely at the palace during the time when a young Prince Hilmes was still there.
I wonder what their memories are of hearing of the palace fire? The three of them are roughly the same age.
(Also this post has set my mind wondering... I wonder what Hilmes's accent is like? It'd obviously mark him as a noble / of high status, but does it bear traces of regions other than Pars, given that he's spent so long out of the country?)
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xnote08 · 1 year
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302  -  Qiqi (Genshin Impact)
2/5/23
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myscrap · 3 months
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Xユーザーの歩井田さん: 「302~307枚目 遊園地🎡 #白瀬咲耶を398枚描く2 https://t.co/8AJTbz2Tg3」 / X
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tododekucrumbs · 1 year
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Jump+ App preview images for various MHA chapters!
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243 - Off to Endeavor’s Agency!
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247 - Status Report!
248 - One thing at a time
249 - The Hellish Todoroki Family
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286 - The ones within us
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293 - Hero Saturated Society
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302 - The wrong way to put out a fire, part 2
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321 - From Class A to OFA
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338 - The story of how we all became great heroes, part 1
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352 - Ultimate Moves
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fastmusclecar123 · 6 months
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New Post has been published on https://fastmusclecar.com/5-of-the-best-australian-muscle-cars-ever-built/best-muscle-cars/
5 Of The Best Australian Muscle Cars Ever Built
While American muscle cars usually command the spotlight in terms of V8 vehicles, Australia also has its fair share of classics. We will delve into five of these classic vehicles which have stood the test of time. All of these vehicles are being shortlisted from a balance of collectability, performance, and general reputation.
1. Holden Monaro
The Holden Monaro is a legendary nameplate in the world of Australian muscle cars. Originally introduced in 1968, the Monaro quickly gained a reputation for its sleek design and formidable performance on the road and the racetrack. With powerful V8 engines under the hood and a timeless coupe silhouette, the Monaro captured the hearts of car enthusiasts across generations. Its iconic status was cemented with the release of modern iterations, including the Monaro VZ and the limited-edition Monaro CV8-Z.
2. Ford Falcon GT
The Ford Falcon GT is possibly the first Australian muscle car, depending on who you ask. The initial XR GT performance version housed a 4.7-liter, 289 ci V8 engine, with 68 and 71 eras having a 5.8-liter, 351 Cleveland V8 producing 300-350hp. The first Aussie-made version was the 1972 XA Falcon which came as a two-door coupe, with a top speed of 142 mph and a 0-60 time of 6.4 seconds. Over the years, the Falcon GT has evolved to become a symbol of Australian performance engineering, with each new generation pushing the boundaries of power and innovation. Models like the Falcon GT-HO Phase III have achieved legendary status among collectors and enthusiasts, Adding to the Falcon GT’s status.
3. Chrysler Valiant Charger
The Chrysler Valiant Charger was based on the Dodge Dart and Plymouth Valiant, but entirely Australian-made. With its long hood, short deck, and aggressive styling cues, the Valiant Charger stood out from the crowd and became a symbol of rebellion and freedom on the open road. Standout versions include the RT model with a 4.3-liter, 265 ci Hemi 6, producing 302 hp, with a 0 to 60 time of 6 seconds. For those wanting more luxury, the Charger 770 SE came with a 5.6-liter, 340-ci V8 and 275hp, Today, well-preserved Charger models are highly sought after by collectors, with the early 70s models being the most desirable.
4. HSV GTSR W1
Developed by Holden Special Vehicles (HSV), the HSV GTSR W1 is a limited-edition super sedan that pays homage to the classic muscle cars of yesteryear while incorporating the latest in automotive technology. With a supercharged V8 engine producing over 600 horsepower, advanced aerodynamics, and track-tuned suspension, the GTSR W1 is capable of tearing up the track with ease. Its aggressive styling and menacing presence make it an instant classic, destined to be remembered as one of the greatest Australian muscle cars.
5. Holden Sandman
American Australia had similar problems in the early 1970s. Huge distances to cover, while needing a vehicle to haul a decent amount of daily items. America solved a problem with the Chevrolet El Camino and the Ford Ranchero, while Australia came up with the ‘Ute.’ A regular muscle car upfront with a van at the back. The top version of the Sandman came with a 5.0-liter 308 engine, with a top speed of 125 mph. Standout features include the radial tuned suspension – leaf springs in the rear, coil springs for the front wheels to address the radial tires.
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