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pucksandpower · 4 months

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So Good to Me

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: Charles Leclerc is the perfect man for you … getting stopped on the street for a random TikTok challenge just serves to prove that even further

The warm Monaco sun beats down on you as you stroll leisurely along the bustling sidewalk, a canvas tote bag filled with fresh produce and flowers from the local farmer’s market hanging from your shoulder. The salty sea breeze wafts across your face, carrying with it the excited chatter and laughter of tourists admiring the luxurious yachts bobbing in Port Hercules.

You smile to yourself, relishing this perfect Mediterranean afternoon. Just a quick stop at home to drop off your purchases, and then maybe you’ll take a dip in the infinity pool on the terrace to cool off before Charles is done with-

“Excusez-moi, mademoiselle!” A young man’s voice breaks through your daydreaming. You glance over to see a twenty-something guy with a neatly trimmed beard, expensive-looking sunglasses, and a black t-shirt emblazoned with HUSTLE in white block letters. He’s holding a mini microphone and has his iPhone pointed at you, clearly filming.

A TikToker.

You sigh internally but force a polite smile.

“Oui, puis-je vous aider?” You reply in French.

“Ah sorry, I don’t speak much French! Do you speak English?” The TikToker asks eagerly in a British accent.

“Yes, I do. Can I help you with something?” You say, switching to English yourself. You just want to get home but you know these influencer types can be annoyingly persistent.

The TikToker grins. “Brilliant! I’m doing a social experiment for my followers. I was wondering — do you have a significant other? A boyfriend or husband perhaps?”

You raise an eyebrow questioningly but decide to humor him. “Um, yes, I have a boyfriend,” you answer simply.

His eyes light up. “Fantastic! And would you say your boyfriend loves you very much?”

You can’t help but chuckle at the boldness of this stranger’s line of questioning. “Yes, I would definitely say that. He loves me a lot,” you confirm, a soft smile playing on your lips as you think of Charles.

“Perfect! Okay, here’s the challenge,” the TikToker announces dramatically, staring intensely into his camera. “I want you to call up your boyfriend right now and ask him to send you some money. Doesn’t matter how much. But for every €100 he sends, I’ll give you €20 to keep for yourself. Let’s see how much he really loves you, shall we?”

You stare at this guy incredulously for a moment before bursting out laughing. Is he serious? He clearly has no idea who your boyfriend is. An amused smirk spreads across your face as you fish your iPhone out of your designer purse.

“Alright, you’re on,” you say confidently, already unlocking your phone and tapping on Charles’ contact. The TikToker looks surprised but excited that you actually agreed to his silly challenge.

“Put it on speaker phone,” he instructs, zooming his camera in on your phone screen which is now dialing Charles.

After a few rings, the warm, honey-smooth voice you adore comes through. “Allô mon amour, what’s up?” Charles greets you sweetly. “I’m just finishing up some simulator runs but I should be done soon to help with dinner.”

“Hey baby,” you reply, your voice automatically softening. “Sorry to bother you, I know you’re busy. But I’m out right now and I just passed by that little boutique near the casino, you know the one? And I saw the most incredible pair of shoes in the window. I swear they were calling my name.”

Charles laughs affectionately, the sound like music to your ears even through the cell phone speaker. “Oh yeah? The ones that were calling your name last week turned out to be, what was it, €900?” He teases.

You roll your eyes playfully even though he can’t see. “Okay, fair, but you know I hardly ever splurge on myself. I’m usually so frugal!”

“Mmhmm, whatever you need to tell yourself, chérie,” Charles says wryly and you can practically hear the smirk in his voice. “Let me guess, you need to go get these dream shoes right now? Or else they’ll haunt you forever?”

“You know me so well,” you gush dramatically. “I promise I’ll pay you back though! I get paid next week and-”

“Hey, hey, stop,” Charles cuts you off gently. “Mon cœur, you never have to pay me back, you know that. I love being able to treat you and spoil you. You deserve the world. Never forget that.”

You feel yourself melt at his earnest words, momentarily forgetting you have an audience. “I love you so much,” you murmur. “Thank you for always being so good to me.”

“Right back at you, ma belle. Je t’aime,” Charles says tenderly. “There, check your banking app. Let me know if you need any more. And have fun shopping! I’ll see you at home in a bit, okay? À bientôt!”

You glance down at your phone as a notification from your bank pops up on the screen. Your eyes widen slightly when you see the amount Charles sent over, but you recover quickly.

“Thank you, baby. See you soon!” You reply before hanging up. You turn back to the TikToker who is gaping at you in disbelief. Casually, you turn your phone screen towards him and his camera so he can clearly see the notification that €10,000 has just been deposited into your account.

The poor guy looks like he’s about to pass out from shock. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, rendered speechless. You just laugh good-naturedly.

“Well, guess I won your little challenge, huh?” You remark, slipping your phone back into your purse. “Tell you what, why don’t you donate whatever money you were going to give me to a local animal shelter instead? I think it’ll be put to much better use there.”

The TikToker finally manages to pick his jaw up off the floor. He laughs shakily and nods. “Yeah ... yeah I can do that. Wow. Um, thanks for being such a good sport about this. And congrats on, uh, winning, I guess?”

You give him a friendly wink. “Anytime. Have a nice rest of your day!” With that, you turn gracefully on your heel and continue on your way back home, feeling rather smug and deeply appreciative of your wonderfully generous boyfriend.

“Wait!” The TikToker calls out after you. You glance back over your shoulder curiously. He hesitates before asking in an awed voice, “If you don’t mind me asking ... who the hell is your boyfriend?”

An enigmatic smile plays on your lips. “No one special really,” you reply breezily. “Just a guy who loves driving fast cars.”

You leave the gaping TikToker in your wake as you saunter off, already daydreaming about showing your appreciation to Charles later for being the most incredible boyfriend imaginable.

Maybe you really will splurge on those designer shoes after all … and pick up a little something special from the lingerie boutique next door while you’re at it.

Your smile widens. Just as a little thank you to your man, of course. Life is good when you’re in love with Charles Leclerc.

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ln4madness · 4 months

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MY JEALOUS BOY - LN4

summary: y/n and lando visit a family friend of y/n’s who just so happens to be a boy

warnings: none

pairing: lando x fem!reader

You and Lando were sitting in your car. You were visiting the country you’re from and you decided to go visit as many people as you could.

You were sitting in your car with Lando, going to your family friends house. “So who are these people now?” Lando asked since you were visiting so many people he lost count of who everyone is. “They are our family friends, our moms were friends in college and now they’re one of our best friends.” You said as you pulled up to their house.

“Heyyyy! I missed you guys” You said as you got out of the car and gave f/m/n (friends moms name, idk how else to write it) a hug. “How are you y/n, tell us everything you’ve been doing in monaco!” she said. “Yeah i’ve been doing great, living with my boyfriend now, really missed home tho.” You said as Lando got out the car and stood next to you. “This is my boyfriend, Lando” You said. “Well aren’t you a handsome guy” f/m/n said as she hugged him. “Let’s go to the backyard terrace, everyone’s there” y/f/m said.

You went to the terrace and saw f/d/n (friends dads name). “Omg you’re so grown up since the last time i saw you.” He said as he hugged you. You let go of the hug and f/d/n turned to Lando to shake his hand. “This is Lando, my boyfriend.” You said as they shook each others hands. “F/d/n, nice to meet you.” f/d/n said.

You all were sitting down and eating when you realized that y/f (your friend) isn’t here. “Oh btw where is y/f?” You asked his parents. “Oh he’s gonna be here soon too, he had to work today.” f/m/n said.

You heard a car pull up to the house. “That must be f/n, go greet him, i’m sure he’s missed you as well.” F/m/n said to you. You got up to go meet your friend, and lando got up after you.

Way taller now, a mullet, a perm, your friend looked way different now than the last time you saw him. “Hey, it’s been a long time.” You said as you saw him get out of his car. “Yeah, hey, it’s so good to finally see you.” He said as he gave you a hug, which Lando didn’t really like, he would’ve preferred a handshake or a smile.

Hours later you were hanging out with f/n and Lando in the living room.

“You uhh wanna go on a drive? Like the old times?” F/n asked you. “Yeah, it’d be fun, god those were some times weren’t they?” You said.

As you got in the passenger seat of f/n’s car, leaving Lando to sit in the backseat, you noticed a bracelet hanging from the rearview mirror. “oh hey, you still have this here.” You said as you pointed to the bracelet. “Yeah, it’s been there forever” F/n said.

“Wanna go through the woods? Drift a little?” F/n asked you. “Obviously, that’s all we did back then, wasn’t it?” You replied as you smiled remembering the old times. “All you did huh?” Lando said as he looked at you and your friend.

“Yeah, every time i would come here we would go drive in the woods with this car. Can’t believe it’s still holding together” You said. “Well i’m planning on getting a new one soon, gonna be hard to say goodbye to this one” F/n said as he drove to the woods. “Awhhh, you’re getting rid of it? The memories in this car were amazing tho.” You said, which made Lando get even more jealous.

“What memories?” Lando asked, voice getting deeper and eyes getting narrower, you could tell he was getting jealous.

“This is the car in which i learned how to drive, Lando” You said as you turned back to look at him. “I thought you told me you learned how to drive with your sisters car.” Lando looked at you with a raised eyebrow. “Technically i did, but this is the car i learned all the basics in.”

You were flying through the woods with the car, drifting through certain corners, windows down, music blasting through the speakers.

“I know i drive cars super fast for a living, but this is fucking crazy.” Lando said as you flew through another corner.

“Yeah well f/n has quite a skill of doing this.” You said. “Yeah, been doing this since i was like 15” F/n said. “Oh I’ll never forget the first time we ever went for one of these drives, nearly broke the car.” You said.

You all were now back at F/n’s house. You, Lando, F/n and his parents and sister all sitting in the living room, catching up, sharing stories, having fun. Lando getting super jealous seeing you talk to f/n, the way you laughed and smiled every time f/n mentioned some of the things you used to do together, talking about all the fun you had on vacations you took together with your families as kids.

You could see and feel Lando get more jealous throughout the whole evening.

“Well i think it’s time for us to head home now.” You said. “Make sure to visit us more, can’t wait to see you again.” F/m/n said.

You and Lando were in your car now, driving back to your house. His hand on your thigh, holding on to it like he’s about to drop you off a cliff if he lets go.

“Lando what’s going on?” You asked him, knowing well what’s going on.

“Was there ever something going on between you and f/n?” Lando asked, getting straight to the point. “What do you mean?” You replied. “Oh come on, don’t act like you don’t know. You were talking with him, looking at him, like you are some kind of a married couple visiting your hometown.” Lando said. “There never was really anything between us Lando, except for a few times we’ve kissed” You said.

“YOU KISSED HIM?!” Lando was the tiniest bit away from yelling. “WHEN WE WERE KIDS LANDO, YEARS AND YEARS AGO.” You practically yelled at him. “I don’t like him, next time we visit this house i’m making sure he has to work even later.” Lando said.

You arrived home and immediately plopped down on the couch. “i’m so tired.” You said. “Go to sleep then, baby” Lando said. “No i don’t want to, not yet, come here.” You said. Lando went over to you and sat next to you, you leaned against his shoulder immediately and he put his arm around you.

“So you promise there was nothing ever going on between you two?” Lando asks. “Of course Lan, nothing was ever going on.” You said. “Okay okay, i love you baby.” Lando said as he kissed your forehead. “I love you too my jealous boy.” You said and giggled.

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blooming-violets · 1 year

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For Inexperienced Smut Prompts

“I can’t believe you’re this innocent…”

With Andrew! Peter Parker x reader ❤️❤️❤️ !!!!!!

Not So Innocent || Inexperienced Smut Prompts

[tasm!Peter Parker x fem!virgin!reader]

Warnings: Alcohol use and depictions of being intoxicated, a lot of dry humping and fingering

A/N: I changed the quote just a tiny bit to “I didn’t know you were so innocent" because it fit better. Same vibes though.

You weren’t used to being dragged along to parties, especially one’s held in a large penthouse overlooking the city. The host of the party was a friend of a friend of a friend. At least, that’s what your roommate said. She desperately wanted to attend with her boyfriend but was too nervous to go without you. She promised to find you a date so you wouldn’t be third wheeling despite your claims that you’d rather not attend at all. Somehow she had managed to convince you to get dolled up in clothes that weren’t your own and make an appearance. You trailed behind her and her boyfriend as the three of you walked out onto the wrap around terrace.

The night air was warm and the sounds of the heavy bass booming out of the speakers reverberated inside your heart. You couldn’t even make out what music was playing; it was too loud. You scrunched up your face in distaste, fidgeting with the bottom of the short skirt of your dress, and pushing your way next to your friend.

“Is this really worth it?” You shouted over to her.

She either couldn’t hear you over the noise or was choosing to ignore you, “Look! Over there!”

She grabbed your hand and dragged you over to an elegant, glass table in the middle of the terrace. It was completely covered with different types of alcohol. You weren’t really educated well enough to be able to tell the difference between them all. She poured you something clear and shoved the cup into your hand.

“Drink this!” She practically forced you to tilt the cup to your lips and held her hand under the bottom while you drained the contents.

You were sputtering and gagging by the time it was finished, “That was horrible!””

“I know, it was pure vodka,” she laughed. “But it will get you loosened up.”

You felt like vomiting. She poured you something else.

Her boyfriend leaned between the two of you to point over at someone. “Matty is over there. Why don’t you go talk to him?”

You turned to see where he was pointing. Matt was the guy who was supposed to be your date tonight. He played college football with your roommate's boyfriend. You gave an unenthusiastic smile. That was supposed to be your cue to leave the two of them alone so they could enjoy their night as a couple. You weren’t sure what the point of your coming was. It wasn’t like your friend was planning on actually spending time with you.

You reluctantly made your way over to Matt and gave him an awkward wave, “You’re Matt, right?”

He nodded, “Yeah. My friend’s call me Matty, though.”

“Great,” you replied. You weren’t a friend so you thought you’d stick with Matt. “Uhm, nice to meet you, I guess.”

He looked you over, overtly eyeing up and down your body. You curled into yourself under his gaze and quickly started drinking whatever was in your cup. It tasted like bleach and lime. You did your very best not to make a face of disgust and keep drinking.

“You’re supposed to be my date then?” He asked.

“I guess,” you shuffled the toe of your foot against the ground. “Do you-”

He cut you off, “I was told you were really hot.”

You laughed at that. It was a self deprecating, uncomfortable laugh. He was already heavily intoxicated, swaying on his feet. You wanted to go home. The forced smile faded from your face as you turned your sights to look out over the city.

“Sorry to disappoint you,” you stated, feeling like shit.

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched him shrug, “Nah man. It’s cool. You’re still hot but, like, a prudish kind of hot. Like how the pastor’s daughter is always smokin’ hot but you know she’d never actually go down on you, so you don’t even try to bark up that tree, ‘cause it leads nowhere. Not really fuckable, ya feel me?”

You didn’t feel him. You felt insulted for some reason. As if being called unfuckable by a drunk stranger was the worst thing you could ever be called. Matt was clearly looking for one thing tonight. He wanted someone easy. He took one look at you, uncomfortable in your roommates clothes, and could instantly tell you weren’t that kind of girl. She could dress you up but she couldn’t change your personality. You were self-conscious and fidgety. Even this dumb jock could see that. Before you could reply, Matt’s attention got pulled away by a group of giggling girls throwing heart eyes at him. He didn’t say a word as he stumbled away, already forgetting your entire existence.

And, just like that, you were left alone at a party you didn’t want to be at.

You finished the drink in your hand despite wanting to gag every time it touched your lips. You were already starting to feel the effects of the two drinks. You had never drank in your life so it didn’t take much to make you feel funny. Your skin sort of felt tingly and your thoughts were slow and lazy. Even though you were left on your own, you felt a sudden rush of happiness pushing away the shame. The music was starting to sound less terrible, too. It made you want to dance. You were beginning to feel invincible. Confident. Matty could go fuck himself. You were totally fuckable. You were hot. This dress was super sexy and slutty and short and you were an absolute babe with it on. You could do anything you wanted. You felt like if you stood up on these rooftop railings and jumped, you would simply sore away into the sky like a bird.

“I didn’t expect to see you here.”

A vaguely familiar voice popped up behind you before you had time to test your theory of flight.

You turned around to come face to face with Peter Parker. He was your lab partner for biology. You two usually only ever spoke about class related topics but it was still nice to see a familiar face. You always found him to be very sweet.

“I wouldn’t expect to see you here, either,” you responded with a big smile.

Peter laughed, “I guess us nerds don’t usually get invited to rich people’s rooftop parties.” Once the words left his mouth, his eyes widened, afraid that he offended you. He quickly added, “Not that I think you don’t belong here! Or that you’re a nerd. You’re very pretty. Not that nerds can’t be attractive. That’s just a dumb stereotype. I think you’re really smart and you have a nice smile and you look really pretty tonight. Not that you don’t look pretty other days. And not that it matters what you look like. Or…well…I mean…I don’t remember what I was originally talking about…I think I’m drunk.”

The crimson blushing over his cheeks was incredibly endearing. You found yourself leaning in closer. You knew he was always handsome but, tonight, he looked beautiful. Radiant. Mesmerizing.

You think you might be a little drunk, too. That first cup your friend made you chug was causing your thoughts to swim. The second cup only sealed the deal.

“Thank you!” It was all that needed to be said. Also, because you sort of forgot what he was saying, too. You got distracted by the way his lips formed each word. They were lovely lips to look at. “I think…”

His blush deepened and he hid behind the beer bottle in his hand as finished off the contents, “Do, uh, do you want to dance? With me, I mean. Or by yourself is fine too but I’d hope it was with me. That’s why I’m asking. For your hand. Not in marriage! To dance with.”

You weren’t a dancer but you didn’t think Peter was either. That made you feel more confident in accepting his offer.

“Okay,” you nodded, laughing at how he managed to out awkward you.

He took the cup from your hands and put it onto the first table he saw along with his own empty beer. Then, he took your hand and pulled you inside, onto the dance floor that had been set up in the living room cleared of furniture. The feeling of your hand in his, the way he easily maneuvered you through the crowd, sent an excited, pulsating electricity shooting up your spine. Peter found a nice spot off to the edge of the crowd. There, you two could still enjoy the energy without being trampled on by all the sweaty bodies.

An unspoken tension settled in the air between you and Peter. You were drawn to him. Captivated by him. You’d often spend the two hours of your lab huddled up close to his face while sharing a microscope but this felt different. Stronger. You couldn’t stop staring at the way his body moved. It might be the alcohol talking but he seemed to have a natural flow to his movements. You felt in sync with him. Your eyes shamelessly traveled down his body, much like Matt had done to you earlier. Only instead of feeling nervous like you had, Peter merely smirked, the smile flashing over his lips. Without his usual oversized sweatshirt, you could easily make out the strong muscles of his biceps as they pulled the sleeves of his t-shirt tight against his arms. You would have never guessed he was hiding those under there.

You got lost in the music, loving it a million times more than when you first entered the party. You were moving, swaying, and bouncing along to the beat. Peter was right there with you like he was reading your mind, or reading your body, able to anticipate which way you were swaying and following your lead. The rest of the party faded around you as your eyes locked with Peter’s. It was just the two of you and the unfamiliar sensual tension clouding the air, growing thicker with each passing second.

You were not a prude. You were not the preacher’s daughter. Matt could go fuck himself. He had no idea what you were like. All he did was take one look at you and thrust his own narrative on your shoulders. Yeah, maybe you were still a virgin, but you gave a guy a blow job. Once. In your senior year of high school. That qualifies you to be a part of a Non-Prude Club. Fucking Matty, that piece of shit. A big giant turd. That’s what he was. His brain had probably been hit one too many times during football anyway. You didn’t even think he was that attractive. Maybe he was the one who wasn’t fuckable? You bet he never thought of that!

Peter didn’t think you were a prude. He thought you were pretty and he wanted to dance with you. That means…well, it doesn’t mean much, but your vodka fueled brain was trying to connect some kind of dots together. Peter wanted to fuck you. That was probably it. Or maybe that was Matt who wanted to do that. Not Peter. You were getting them confused.

No, no, Matt didn’t want to fuck you. Or he did but he didn’t think you would let him.

And he was right. You wouldn’t have let him. He was kind of gross.

But, Peter…

“Am I fuckable?”

His eyes widened, “Excuse me?”

“What?” Did you say that out loud? Shit. “I didn’t say anything!”

His smile grew. He leaned down to speak directly into your ear, “Yes. You are.”

Heat flooded your face. Holy shit. A nervous, intoxicated laugh tumbled from your lips. The song changed to a new track and your eyes lit up.

“I know this one!” You excitedly bounced on the balls of your feet.

“Everyone knows Britney Spears,” Peter laughed at your enthusiasm as I’m a Slave 4 U blasted out the speakers.

Someone bumped into you from behind and sent you tumbling into Peter’s chest. He steadied you back onto your feet. Instead of moving away, you embraced the closeness, feeling bold, and wrapping your arms around his neck. His eyebrows raised, slightly taken off guard, but he quickly settled his hands comfortably around your waist. The electricity in the air heightened. You wanted Peter to touch you forever. There was not a single other person in this party except for him. You smiled up at him through hazy eyes.

“I never drank alcohol before tonight,” you confessed. Something in his eyes felt safe, like you could tell him all your secrets and he wouldn’t tell another soul. He would keep you safe. A protector. “I don’t think I’m too drunk, though. I think I’m just happy. I could still totally drive a car.”

That was a lie. You didn’t even have your license. It felt pointless when you grew up in the city.

Peter chuckled. It was a nice sound.

“I didn’t know you were so innocent,” he teased. “Never had a drop of anything before?”

You feigned a gasp at his comment, “I am not innocent! Why are people always assuming that about me tonight? What vibes am I giving off? My roommate told me these were some of her favorite slut clothes. Apparently they’re doing nothing to help my image.”

“Oh, trust me, they are,” He nodded with appreciation for her tight fitting outfit. Then added, “You’re at a happy drunk level. Me too…but that might just be because you’re here with me.”

Your stomach tumbled with excited butterflies. With Britney Spears cheering you on, you pushed your body closer, brushing against his. As you swayed to her hypnotic beat, you purposely rubbed your hips into his. The moment you made contact, you felt his arousal. Solid and hard against you.

You let out a tiny gasp, eyes widening in shock. You hadn’t been expecting that. That was because of you. You had given him that. You. Peter’s eyes had closed and his lips parted when you pushed against him. For a split second, it looked like he was going to let out a moan right there in front of everyone. His eyes shot open when he realized what was happening and a slew of slurred, bashful apologies tumbled out of him. Before he could get too embarrassed, you silenced him by repeating the movement. This time, locking eyes with him with a defiant stare, as you rubbed your pelvis over his erection as if you were daring him to stop you.

You would show him you weren’t innocent. You would prove him wrong.

He licked his steadily drying lips and swallowed the lump in his throat. He was completely speechless, utterly in awe. This was a new side of you, one you hadn’t even known existed before tonight. A horny, needy side. It only took him until the chorus to snap out of his stunned daze. His hands traveled up your sides, curving around your waist, then traveling back down. He hovered over your butt, watching your reaction to see if you’d object. When all he got a quiet smirk urging him on, his large hands cupped your cheeks. You could feel your dress riding up your thighs as he squeezed you, bunching up the fabric. He pressed you closer, holding you tightly against his erection. You tightented your grip around his neck, smooshing your breasts against his chest, and feeling the flood of wetness rush to your core.

I’m a slave for you. I cannot hold it, I cannot control it. I’m a slave for you. I won’t deny it, I’m not tryna hide it.

Britney was always right. You really were trying to have him dance up on you. You could not control it and you won’t deny it. Truer words had never been spoken.

You felt weak. A good kind of weak. Like your knees might give out at any moment and your head was spinning but everything felt wonderful. A happy drunk. That’s what Peter had called it. Or a horny drunk. Maybe both.

The more you held his gaze, the more attractive he became. You didn’t think that was possible but here you are. The flecks of sparkling light reflected off those beautiful hickory colored eyes. You were lost in them. Lost in his magnetic pull. His lips were centimeters from yours. He wanted to kiss you but he was letting you close the gap, giving you the choice. You took a shuddered breath and smashed your lips together. It might have been a little too eager and aggressive but Peter easily remedied your attack. He softened his lips and gently eased open your mouth with his tongue. The butterflies in your stomach turned to a frenzy at the feeling of his warm tongue gliding across yours. It reminded you of a dance. Much like your bodies were still pressed together and swaying to the music, your tongues were having their own party.

When your breath became short, you carefully pulled yourself back with a dazed smile.

Peter’s smile matched your own. The alcohol swam in vision, giving him adorable bleary eyes. He looked more relaxed than you had ever seen him.

“Have you had your fill of dancing?” He asked once the song ended.

You had forgotten you were even in a room full of people. You glanced around you, noticing Matt eyeing you from the other side of the room. He looked impressed, wondering if he had gotten the completely wrong impression of you. He raised his drink and winked in your direction as if to apologize for his own mistake. It made you giggle. You flipped him off with a smile.

You turned back to Peter, the smile still lingering on your face. You were enjoying the tension between the two of you. You liked the dangerous excitement of rubbing up on Peter in the midst of a crowd. You were afraid of the moment ending if you left but your head was spinning and you needed some fresh air.

“Let’s go back outside,” you offered. “The music is just as loud out there.”

Peter nodded in agreement. You had the feeling he would have gone anywhere you asked him to. He took your hand and tugged you towards the terrace. The entire glass wall opened up to make a seamless transition from the inside of the penthouse to the out. The night air felt cool in your throat. It helped soothe the pounding heartbeat in your chest. A coiled up excitement resided in the pit of your stomach from your adventures on the dancefloor. You wanted more.

Peter pushed his way to the corner. It was the one place the lights failed to reach. It felt like a very purposeful spot to bring you. He turned around, leaning against the railing, and studying you with burning, passion filled eyes. His gazed forced your own downward, like he was a blazing fire, too bright and hot to stare at for too long. Except now you were now looking directly at what had been pressed against you.

His dark, skinny jeans left little to the imagination. While the stiff material kept him from achieving his full potential, the bulging outline over his inner thigh was more than enough to get the idea of what he was working with. Truthfully, you had no idea what was considered large or small when it came to dicks. Like with alcohol, your knowledge was limited. But Peter looked quite big to you. He was clearly very excited to be in your presence. That was the nice thing about men. You could always tell when they were attracted to you. You were enjoying the power it made you feel. You felt sexy. Fuckable.

You had been staring at it for too long. You needed to avert your eyes back to his face.

When you finally forced your gaze back where it belonged, Peter was smirking at you. He had enjoyed watching you get lost in the sight. He liked knowing that his body was showing you how attractive he found you. He wanted you to know. It wasn’t a secret. Before you could allow yourself to be embarrassed, you twirled around, letting your skirt flare up around your thighs and started dancing again to the music. The perfect distraction. He caught you in his grasp, spinning you away from him, and then pulling you close. He was more suave than you gave him credit for. He might actually have some decent moves.

You turned around in his hold, leaning your back against his chest. Peter’s arms naturally snaked around your waist to hold you to him. He tightened the hold so your bottom was rubbing once more against his bulge as you lazily swayed back and forth. Your dancing was more of a gentle rubbing at this point but you didn’t mind. Whatever kept you locked to Peter was okay in your eyes. You wanted to keep him excited.

His face leaned down, his cheek brushing against your hair, and you heard him inhale the scent of light, floral perfume. You could have sworn you felt his bulge twitch. You had to refrain from squeezing your own thighs together at the thought. Tingly, hot sensations were flooding your core. The need to thrust your hips or rub yourself on something was becoming stronger.

You swore Peter could sense the subtle change in your breath because, as if he knew how aroused you were getting, his hands started to travel. They slid down your thighs until they reached the bottom of your dress, gliding the material through his fingers.

“I’ve never seen you wear a dress like this before,” he breathed, voice ragged, in your ear. “I like it.”

Your ears felt like they were burning, your chest was tight, your toes wanted to curl in your flats. All from the sound of his voice. Of course he had never seen you wear a dress like this. The only other time he saw you was in your early morning lab. He was used to your oversized cardigans, comfy leggings, and a permanent sleepy expression.

His hand slipped under the loose hem of the dress. He hesitated, testing the waters to see if you’d say something, when no objects came he glided over your underwear to rest on your bare hips. The back of your skirt lifted with his wrists to expose the bottom cheeks of your butt. You could feel him lean back enough to get a quick look. He seemed to like what he saw because he almost immediately ground his hips against you.

You couldn’t stop the gasping moan that fell from your lips. Your body felt alive. You could feel the jolt of electricity shoot from your nipples down to your clit. You pushed back, grinding your bottom into his erection. You had no idea what had gotten into you but you couldn’t stop. His obvious arousal only fueled your own spreading fire.

Even your nipples were painfully erect. Your friend had assured you that this dress had a built in bra and you wouldn’t need to wear one. That was a load of bullshit because it was obvious how hard your nipples were poking out. Your breath was becoming labored. You were in the middle of a rooftop party, actively grinding on your lab partner, and drunk on whatever the hell energy Peter was giving off. It wasn’t even the alcohol that was making you act like this. It was all Peter Parker.

You turned in his grasp, throwing your arms around his neck, and finding his lips. He fell back against the railing with your sudden enthusiasm. He managed to keep himself from falling and slid his leg between yours. Without even thinking about it, you rested your core against his thigh. The wetness seeping into your underwear was now blatantly evident to you. Give it a minute and Peter would surely become aware of it, too.

His hands roved hungrily over your body without any more hesitation. You opened your mouth, letting in his tongue, as he fervently attacked your lips. You angled your hips downward and thrust them against his jeans. Your aching clit screamed in pleasure at the delicious friction. Peter was back under your skirt and cupping your bottom. He helped push you along, easing the aid of you grinding against his thigh.

His mouth left yours to leave sloppy, wet kisses along your cheek and down your neck until he found a spot he liked. He suctioned his lips to a pulse point and began sucking and nipping at your soft skin. Your eyes rolled back, mouth parted, at how wonderful it felt. A mix of pain and pleasure. He was bruising your neck, claiming you as his own with a visible mark. You let him dominate you, manipulate you however he pleases. You were his. A slave for Peter Parker.

When he slowly pulled back from your neck, a trail of saliva connected your skin to his bottom lip. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, the corner of his lips tugging into a satisfied smile as he admired his work. It was the sexiest thing you had ever seen in your entire life.

“Do you need a break?” He whispered, his voice hardly heard above the obnoxious techno music now playing.

You swallowed. You probably should stop. You should probably slow down. You were getting too lost in your own feelings. But you shook your head “no”. You didn’t want him to stop. You didn’t want to have to pull yourself away from him.

“I told you,” you whispered back, resting your forehead against his. “I’m not innocent.”

“Are you sure about that?” He asked, the amusement coating his voice. “If I dragged you into the nearest coat closet right now, what would you do?”

You didn’t hesitate in your reply, lust dripping with every syllable, “I would let you touch me however you wanted.”

That was it.

Peter shoved his way past any person who stood in his way. He lead you through the crowd, swerving and weaving between sweaty bodies. The penthouse was huge. The first door he opened was the bathroom but it left too much probability of someone potentially needing to use it. The next was a guest bedroom. That one was already taken. The three people inside of it weren’t too pleased to see two more show up unannounced. The third was nearest to the elevator. It was a narrow, walk-in closet filled with fancy coats and shoes.

“Jackpot,” Peter muttered under his breath.

He pushed you inside and shut the door behind him. It was decently sound proofed in here with all the jackets. The music instantly muffled into the distance. You tugged on a gold chain hanging from the ceiling to flick on a single bulb. It wasn’t much light but it was enough. You turned to face Peter, the spell from outside starting to crack as the nerves set in. You might not have been entirely truthful when you told him you’d let him touch you however he wanted. The thought of losing your virginity in a closet wasn’t exactly how you envisioned it.

Peter’s smile softened when he caught the apprehensive glint in your eye. He reached out his hand and tugged you close to him as he leaned against the door, making sure no one could enter. He placed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Remember when I told you were fuckable earlier?” He asked.

You nodded.

“Well,” he continued. “I didn’t mean to imply that you were nothing more than a quickie in a stranger’s closet. I hope it didn’t come off that way and that was the impression you got. This might have gotten a little out of hand. We might have gotten a bit carried away.” He took a step away from the door so you could leave if you wanted to. “If you want to go, it’s okay, I won’t stop you. I had enough fun tonight to last me a lifetime. Just being able to dance with you made my day.”

You gave him a light shove, pushing him back in front of the door to act as a human lock, taking back control, “I never said anything about leaving.” You took a deep breath, being brave, and trying to advocate for exactly what you wanted from him. “What I said still stands. You can touch me however you want but just with your hands. Okay?” You trailed a finger down his forearm, grazing over his wrist, and locking fingers with him. “If you want to go, it’s okay, I won’t stop you.”

His smile grew when you repeated his own sentiment back to him. To help build back up the same electric energy from outside, you pressed closer to him and grazed your breasts against his chest, letting him feel how erect your nipples were. He tenderly cupped your cheeks with his large hands and captured your lips with his.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time,” he mumbled against your lips. His kiss was slower than the other two like he was really savoring the moment. You felt special. Wanted. Beautiful and sexy all at the same time. The way he worshiped your lips made you feel like the only woman left in the world. Maybe you were. Maybe nothing existed outside of this closet. All that was left was you and Peter.

“Mmph,” was all you could manage back. Very articulate.

And, just like that, you were back under the Parker spell.

His hands made a slow descent away from your cheeks. They traveled down your neck, pausing for his long fingers to gently wrap around it, making you feel small inside his grasp. They brushed over your shoulders, toying with the thin straps to your dress, inching them to the side until they fell down the slope of your arm. The back of his fingers traced over the swell of your breast, letting the hard nub of your nipple feel every bump as he dragged each of his four fingers slowly over it. He was taking his time, carefully watching your every move and listening for every hitch of your breath. He was treating you like a precious piece of art that was meant to be admired and painstakingly inspected under a magnifying glass so as not to miss any precious details.

The pooling wetness between your thighs caused your soaked through underwear to cling uncomfortably to you. You wished you could remove them but still felt too nervous to make any moves and distract Peter from his work. You stood still as a statue, lids half closed, as he molded his hand to your breast. Your eyes gazed up at him, helpless under his touch, the sounds of your heavy breaths the only thing you were now able to hear.

A quiet moan whined in your throat when he pinched your nipple through your dress, capturing it between the knuckles of his middle and pointer finger. He shuddered at the sound, giving a sharp inhale. He wanted to hear it again. His free hand wrapped around your thigh to close the miniscule gap between your hips. He thrust his hips forward, rubbing himself against you, as he molded your breast in his hand.

“Can-” he breathed. “Can I?”

His fingers slipped into cups of your dress, starting to tug them down to imply what he was asking, and pausing to look to you for confirmation. You gave a silent nod.

Peter nearly stopped breathing as he tugged the top half of your dress down to reveal your naked breasts. His eyes were alive with flames while he took in the new sights. He tenderly cupped under your breast, giving it a gentle squeeze, watching as your flesh melded to his touch. His mouth opened and closed a few times, like he was begging to capture your nipple between his lips, but he stuck to the “only hands” rule, using his thumb to flick over it instead.

Your hardly audible moans hit his ear. The sound must have awoken something in him because he responded to it with a whimper of his own. You glanced down to his crotch. His erection was thicker than before. It looked painfully locked up behind the confines of his jeans. You wanted to unleash it, let it be free, but you were too scared to take that leap.

Peter didn’t seem to care about what his cock was feeling. He was too focused on losing himself in your body. He was more of a giver and a taker, you could tell. His hand still gripping onto your hip started to get more daring. You felt him sliding closer to your core. His fingers traced over the elastic band of your underwear, circling around the tiny, ribbon bow adorning the top. If you had known this was how you would end up tonight, you would have bought something sexier. That concern immediately flew from your thoughts as his fingers slipped between your thighs. His palm rested over your mound while the pads of his finger tips traced along the drenched material. His ragged inhale was all you needed to know to understand how turned on that feeling made him.

“You’re so wet,” he growled in your ear.

“Mm,” you croaked out, eyes closed. Words were no longer something your brain had access to.

You bit your bottom lip the harder he pressed your panties against your slit. The thin cotton material was the only thing holding him back from entering you.

Peter lifted his other hand to brush under your chin. He lifted your head so you were forced to look up at him. You pried your eyes open, staring at him through heavy lids. Your mouth hung open to accommodate your panting breaths. He locked eyes with you, looking into your soul, as he slipped the wet fabric to the side.

You gave a silent, wide eyed cry when his finger grazed over your bare slit. Your stomach seized, nearly doubling you over, in excitement. You felt your folds open to his touch. His leg resting between yours nudged your ankle, telling you to spread your legs open a little wider for him. You clutched onto the front of his shirt, grabbing a fistful of it into your grasp. Without it, you felt like you might collapse. The look of lust etched into his features caused you to nearly orgasm on the spot. Your body was trembling, craving more, nodding your head as if that would make Peter work faster instead of slowly dragging everything out at a crawling pace.

He leaned down, whispering in your ear, “I’m going to make you cum for me.”

That nearly did it. You whimpered, letting your eyes close again. Peter tugged your underwear down your legs. They stopped at your knees, the width at which you were standing not allowing them to go any further. It was enough. His hand cupped between your thighs, rubbing you, teasing you. You grind your hips, thrusting your clit against his palm. He gave a soft chuckle, enjoying how desperate you had become.

“Fuck, you’re pretty,” he mumbled to himself.

His long fingers moved gently on you, caressing your wetness, feeling how easily they slid through the slickness you were creating for him. All for him. He continued to simply feel you until you gazed back up at him. He was waiting for your eye contact. Your heart was pounding, waiting for the inevitable, and surrendering yourself over to him. The moment you locked on, he eased his middle finger between your parted lips while his thumb brushed slow circles around your clit. It was the first time a man’s finger had ever touched your sex. You felt the pressure, felt the fear, felt the excitement and the slight searing of pain at how tight you were. You whined as the pain and pleasure mixed to create an intense, swirling storm deep in your sex. Your pussy felt like it was sucking him in, trying to eat him whole, the deeper he sank into you.

You clung to the front of his shirt, balled up fists, and tears spiking in your eyes. It felt so good. More intense than anything you’d ever felt. You’d touched yourself before but Peter was different. Better. You were sharing the moment, giving up control, and letting someone else learn the intimate details of your body. Your legs were shaking. Your knees felt weak.

You buried your head into Peter’s neck as he started a steady, slow rhythm of easing his finger half way in and out of you. He focused most of his attention on servicing your throbbing clit. He could tell you were a virgin, he could tell how tight you were squeezing him, and he wanted to go as slow as possible so as not to hurt you. Even a single finger felt like it was filling you up. You were moaning against his neck, whimpering, whining, beginning for more. Your hips worked with each small thrust of his finger, trying to push it deeper. You thrust your clit against his thumb. Your body was taking over as you tumbled towards a climax.

Peter’s lips were pressed against your ear. He whispered quiet words of encouragement, urging you on, praising you, comforting you. The night was all starting to meld together. The slutty dress, vodka, the obnoxiously loud music, how easily Matt rejected you with nothing more than a few words, finding Peter, dancing together, Britney Spears, the passionate terrace make out, the closet and how sweet Peter had been to quell your obvious fears, the way his finger felt so big inside of you. The entire night was swirling around your thoughts. A tornado building inside your brain. Ready to wipe out anything it touched.

“That’s it,” Peter whispered over your pathetic whines. “There you go. Cum for me. You’re right there. Let it go. Let it happen.”

You gave a sharp cry as light exploded in your vision. The tornado tore straight through you, ripping your mind from your body. You were floating in the air. High above everything else. You had no control of the way your body jerked and spasmed, held tightly against Peter’s chest. You’d never experienced an orgasm this powerful. It would have brought you straight to your knees had Peter not been holding you upright.

He wrapped his arms around you, tracing his fingers over your back and up your neck. He soothed you with a quiet humming until your mind came crashing back down to earth. You were shaking, shivering, eyes glued closed. Peter was your one tether to cling on to. He kept you grounded as you let the tornado fade off into the distance.

When you finally managed to get your bearings once more, you took a shaky step back from him. He kept his arms outstretched in case he needed to suddenly catch you if you decided to crumble. You shrugged the straps of your dress back up and adjusted the chest so your breasts were back to being concealed.

Peter had given you a gift you didn’t even know you were looking for. You wanted to repay the favor but you didn’t think your body could handle anything more tonight. Instead, you slipped the underwear still clinging around your knees down to your ankles. You carefully stepped out of them. He watched in a silent curiosity as you closed the gap between you two, stuffing them into the pocket of his jeans.

“To give you something to remember me by,” you stood on your tippy toes, planting a kiss on his cheek. A sweet, innocent kiss.

He looked at you with an awe, loved filled gaze as you pushed open the closet door and stumbled into the hallway.

When he didn’t follow, you glanced over your shoulder with a sly smirk, “Well? Are you coming?”

#tasm x reader #peter parker x reader #tasm #the amazing spiderman #peter parker #tasm peter parker #tasm peter #tasm peter x reader #tasm peter smut #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker smut #andrew garfield #spiderman #tasm fic #peter parker fic #blooming violets #blooming violets fic #not so innocent

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johnconway · 2 months

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Hey Everyone, TetZooCon is happening again, and this year is going to be amazing. As well as the usual TetZooCon fun and nerdery, we have an absolutely spectacular venue. If you want to feel like a like some sort of superstar star sipping champagne* on a rooftop terrace overlooking the river in central London, looking down on puny kings and Prime Ministers while you geek out about animals, this is the event for you!

We also have palaeoart superstar Greg Paul coming over from America to give a talk and a Q&A, and TV's Chris Packham, among many other great speaker and guests.

TetZooCon 2024 will be held on September Friday 27th (evening reception only), and the weekend of September 28th and 29th. Our venue is once again Bush House, King’s College, London

Fort the truly hardy TetZooCon-er, we also have the TetZooTour, starting on the Monday following, where you will be guided to Darren Naish through some of the zoology and palaeontology sites of the UK.

More about what's planned for this year here:

*Well, Prosecco

#animals #zoology #tetrapod zoology #events #london #conventions #paleoart #palaeoart

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fayes-fics · 8 months

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When The World Is Free: Chapter 1 - Sous le ciel de Paris

MASTERPOST | NEXT

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, WW2 AU.

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: Welcome to the start of my new multi-chapter fic based on a request by the lovely @amillcitygirl! Please see the masterpost for a synopsis of this story. Please note that while I do have a plotted outline, I will be posting chapters as I write them, and I expect that process to take quite a few months. Please bear with me! This first chapter sets up the story - reader moving to Paris in the summer of 1939 and bonding with her new flatmate, Eloise Bridgerton. Please note that Benedict won't be turning up for a couple of chapters yet. Thanks to @colettebronte for beta reading. Enjoy! <3

August 1939

Emerging from the underground Trocadero metro stop, you round the corner of the recently completed, gleaming Palais de Chaillot and stop dead in your tracks. There before you is the most iconic landmark of Paris. Perhaps all of France.

La Tour Eiffel.

Breathtaking in its metallic magnificence, glowing in the setting sun. A sight that buoys your travel-weary soul seven days after you left New York: boats and trains finally bringing you to this wondrous spot. A light breeze even dances over your neck in greeting, a balm from the cloying subterranean heat of the metro.

It's a light elbow check to your arm that pulls you back from a state of reverie.

“A beautiful sight, but one you’ll get used to,” your uncle Robert chuckles, shaking your heavy leather case to indicate it's time to move along. “In fact, I've been told you will be able to see it from your appartement…”

He has accompanied you to Paris and will see you settled into your new adventures before continuing on to visit friends in England. He spent the roaring 20s living right here in the 16th arrondissement himself and, indeed, has arranged for you to share living quarters with a young British lady, a relative of his English friends. It's a comfort to know you’ll have at least one English speaker to chat with as you dive headfirst into learning proper French as you go.

Robert leads you away from the amazing sight and into the bustling streets, alive with cars, trams, bicycles and pedestrians buzzing in all directions. It's all at once like New York City, but yet so different as well, cafe terraces filling the wide pavements with all manner of people gathered to sip robust cafe au lait and refreshing limonade.

Within minutes, you are on a quieter side street and stopping outside a handsome honey-coloured stone facade with wrought iron window balconies and window guards, teaming with colourful, fragrant flowering pots. The number 14 gleaming white on a traditional navy blue tile. Your uncle pushes the enormous wooden door open, beckoning you into a cool whitewash wall corridor with mosaic floor tiles.

“Ahhh, Robert!!” a sophisticated middle-aged lady bustles from a nearby doorway and greets your uncle warmly, kissing both cheeks. It would appear they are friends of old.

“Y/n, this is Madam DuLac, your landlady,” he explains as you offer a handshake, admiring her boucle jacket and chic bun.

“Qu’est-ce?” she signals with a good-natured frown, obviously finding your polite greeting lacking, pulling you into a hug and two-cheeked kiss. She smells like Chanel perfume, cigarettes and baked goods. “You are in Paris now, ma chérie; this is how we greet one another,” she counsels in heavily accented but perfect English.

“You speak English?” you sigh, relieved, your French decidedly lacking.

“Bien sûr,” she smiles. “And please call me Solène,” she adds with a friendly smile.

“Eloise should be home from the library maintenant; the perfect time for you to meet,” she gestures towards an elevator cage surrounded by a sweeping grey marble staircase.

“I think I would prefer to take the stairs,” you admit, nerves flaring at the idea of such a contraption.

Your uncle laughs. “Well, I am taking it; I am not hefting this case of yours up five flights of stairs,” he adds dryly as you gaze up the swirling stairwell.

“Five storeys?” you squeak.

“The view is the best from the top,” Solène advises as she rattles back the cage entry and steps in, looking at you expectantly.

Reluctantly, you follow, all three of you and your luggage crammed into the metal cage as it jerks to life and begins its ascent.

“You will get used to it,” Solène smiles as she reads the apprehension on your face, your vice-like grip on your small vanity case and handbag.

Luckily, the lift reaches your destination safely. One shudder before it stops, and the door concertinas back in Solène’s hand to reveal a sweeping hallway with doors left and right.

“Ici,” she signals, the last door on the right-hand side.

But before you can knock, the door peels open, and a pretty, petite brunette jumps in surprise, dropping the book she is holding.

“Pardon,” she offers in perfect accented French, and you wonder for a split second if it is the correct apartment.

“Eloise, this is y/n,” Solène gestures.

“Ohhh, hello,” she grins, and the whiplash back to a plummy British accent is momentarily confusing. “I was about to go read in the courtyard, thought you might not be turning up today. Anyway… come in, come in!”

You shake her proffered hand as she ushers you into the apartment. Instantly, you feel a warmth spreading in your belly, like you have come home. It's light and airy, with large windows looking out across the Parisian rooftops, and yes, to the left is indeed the Eiffel Tower, still gleaming in the fading evening light. But the place also feels homely, that sort of messy that is lived in, comfortable. A large velvet sofa with tumbling stacks of books around it, a little kitchenette awash with colourful enamel cookware, and a jumble of art deco posters and random paintings adorning the walls.

“Solène, I don't suppose you've baked any more of those rather delicious madeleines, have you? To welcome my new housemate?” Eloise pipes up with a chipper, conspiratorial wink your way.

You already like her.

“Effronte!” Solène exclaims with fond exasperation before pausing. “There may be some…”

“I remember those!” your uncle adds with a tinge of nostalgia as he drops your suitcase. “You are in for such a treat, y/n.”

“Well, while our landlady decides if she’s willing to share the treats she has obviously baked but is being coy about…”Eloise raises a pointed eyebrow at the woman before returning to you. “...let me show you your room, then maybe a drink? I'm sure it's been a long journey.”

You nod and, with an exchange of grins, follow her down a corridor. She sweeps open the door to a lovely room, a large double bed with matching bedside tables and a dresser. But best of all, french doors onto a Juliet balcony overlooking a quiet courtyard filled with a riot of birch trees, their leaves gently rustling in the evening breeze.

“Mostly, it’s pesky pigeons down there, but you do get the occasional blackbird singing in the morning,” Eloise smiles as if intuiting your thoughts.

You spend some moments wandering the room and checking out the various fixtures, running idle hands over the furniture, already feeling remarkably at home with your new housemate and, indeed, your new home for the next twelve months.

“I'm just next door,” Eloise reveals, pointing a thumb over her shoulder.

Your uncle appears in the doorway to announce that he and Solène are off to catch up as you unpack and suggests you all reunite for dinner later at a local bistro. It all sounds so very Parisian chic; you cannot wait.

“So tell me about yourself,” Eloise flops onto your bed, already wonderfully casual in your presence, as you open your case and the wardrobe to unpack.

“I’m y/n. I'm from a little town on Long Island called Patchogue, about fifty miles outside New York City. I'm 22…”

“Me too!” she interjects, then signals for you to proceed.

“I wanted to see the world before I settled down. And I’ve dreamed of living in Paris since I was a little girl...” You feel your eyes misting at the fact it's now finally coming true as you continue. “So my parents agreed to pay for me to come to Paris for a year. Under the strict agreement, I get married when I return…”

“You have a fiancé?”

“Yes. Well, sort of. Stanley. We practically grew up together, and we’ve been going steady since we were eighteen.”

“Going steady? That's so American,” Eloise chuckles.

You nod with a giggle, then continue. “He hasn't proposed formally yet, says he is saving up for a ‘real nice’ ring, but it will happen. He is the son of my dad’s business partner. They run a construction company. So, while I'm here, they are building a home for us to live in when I return. We will get married next summer and move right in.”

“You don't mind?” Eloise frowns.

“Don’t mind what?” you query as you hang up your favourite dress.

“That your future is so… plotted out. I couldn't bear the idea. It's why I think my mother let me move to Paris. She was so fed up with me refusing to settle down.” Eloise laughs, idly flicking through the magazine you were reading on your journey.

“I suppose I've never really expected anything else,” you shrug, pausing as you put away your hosiery, but her words make you contemplative. “You don't have a boyfriend back home?”

“God, no. Too many pretty Frenchmen to entertain me here,” she winks. “I’ll introduce you to some, just in case you change your mind,” she breezes, climbing off your bed and drifting to the door. “Wine?”

“Oh… well, why not? When in France, etc,” you agree and close the drawer on the pile of cardigans you have just safely stacked.

“That's the spirit!” she effuses over her shoulder as you follow her back into the living room, the Eiffel Tower still glittering in the dusk.

“This place is so lovely,” you sigh, transfixed by the view as she wanders over and hands you a glass.

“It is a pretty magical view,” she agrees, staring at the skyline with you, watching as each window seems to illuminate in soft yellow with the dying light.

“And the decor, too; I see you love books as much as me,” you smile, tilting your head to the piles before taking a sip of red wine. It's the perfect balance of refreshing, mellow fruitiness and tart tannin coating your tongue, so much better than any wine back home.

“Oh god, yes! I work in the library. I can bring home as many as I want,” she enthuses.

“So, are there actually any left on the shelves?” you jest, lightly, savouring your drink and wandering to take a closer look at a smaller painting that catches your eye. It's very different to all of the others.

“My god, this is beautiful,” you breathe, hugging your wineglass to your chest as you stare transfixed at the art. It appears to be a large country house, probably British, bathed in the warm pinkish light of dawn.

“That's home. Aubrey Hall in Kent. I think the family made me bring it in the hopes it would make me homesick,” Eloise deadpans.

“It’s a wonderful piece,” you breathe, fingers reaching out to lightly trace over the heavily oiled brushstrokes. Something about it is so captivating and intimate.

“I'll be sure to let the artist know,” she smirks. “Although I'm reticent to give him any more praise, seeing as, unfortunately, he is my brother.”

“Your brother painted this?” taken aback by the revelation, assuming it an heirloom.

She nods and comes to stand next to you. “Yup. Benedict. Second eldest. I'm fifth of eight, by the way. Hence ‘E’ for Eloise. It's a thing,” she rolls her eyes.

“Wow. Big family. I just have one brother...”

“Lucky you. Although, as much as he is irritating, if I could only keep one sibling, it probably would be him,” she admits, taking a swig of wine.

“I love art,” you sigh, finally tearing your gaze from the canvas but already knowing it is something you will return to again and again. A pull you can’t quite understand.

“Oh, then I know the perfect job for you! There’s a gallery around the corner from the library, and I saw a sign saying they wanted an English speaker to assist international visitors! You would be perfect!”

“I would love that!” you extol, even as a tiny part of your brain lingers on the idea that it would be too good to be true if it all worked out, that fleeting sense of foreboding in paradise.

“Excellent!” Eloise’s enthusiasm pulls you back to the immediate. “So let’s get your glad rags on! It's time to hit the town for your first night in Paris!”

And thus, you find yourself being bundled back into your room to refresh and change for your first night in the city of your dreams. Indeed, as you find yourself being led by Eloise, arm looped in yours, through the bustling evening streets to a little bistro, your uncle and Solène already waiting at a table with smiling faces and drinks in hand, you can't help but feel this really is the only place in the world you could ever want to be…

Your adventure is just beginning.

Benedict taglist: @foreverlonginguniverse @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb @sya-skies @balladynaaa

#benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x y/n

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featheredclover · 14 days

Text

September Rain

Chapter Eight

Also on Wattpad

Read from the beginning

Chapter Seven> <

She was like a dream. She was like September rains. She was his.

He had known when he saw her that fateful day, clutching her red skirt, her deer-like eyes skirting around nervously. He had felt the disappointment weigh heavily in his chest as he found they were not in the same house. He remembered buying the soda bottles and running across the grounds lest she waited too long for him on the stairs.

His innocent affection had deepened over the years. Sitting in his favourite spot on the red house terrace, his eyes always found the green rooftop, a splinter of longing burning within him.

He had been thirteen when his tonsils were removed. Surgery was a scary thought, and the doctor had told him to take a deep breath and think of “happy thoughts”.

And when his mind had turned to thoughts of her, he knew.

Raizadas and Guptas had become friends, after a few clever manoeuvres by Akash and Payal. A few parties and dozens of dinners later, they were spending the summer together.

——

“Guess what papa got me!” Khushi brandished a shiny, jet black camera at him.

“Nice!” He smiled,sitting up straight, afraid of tilting the hammock over.

“No, no ,no! Just lay there!”

She clicked the button, her hair fluttering against the wind. He smiled awkwardly, as she clicked several more.

“You look pretty Arnav!” She teased with a smile.

——

That summer, Khushi had created an album. An album of just their photos. He had bit his lip, hiding his joy at finding the album packed with more than half with just his photos.

But things were changing. He could sense it. He couldn’t help but feel the electricity hum beneath his skin, when his shoulder brushed hers, when he held her hand, feeling skin against skin. Seeing her dance was like watching an angel trapeze.

——

“Can’t believe it’s raining!”

He hid his smirk behind the book he was trying to read.

“Arnav, you are boring me now”

“We can’t go out Khushi “

“I know that! But can we have fun?”

“Fun?” He set his book aside with a sigh.

She walked up to his speakers. After a few minutes, soft music filled his room.

She smiled, “It’s ‘These dreams’ by Heart”

She moved gently, mouthing the words.

“And the full moon that hangs over, these dreams in the mist” she sang as she extended a hand towards him, tilting her head.

He slipped his hand into hers, as she pulled him off the bed.

Her arms entwined around his neck, and his hand found them on her waist.

He breathed out, as they swayed to the music. The lyrics were far from clear to Arnav by this point. His senses were on an overdrive, as he felt enveloped by her warmth, by her floral smell, by the heart beating against his own.

——

He was in love with Khushi Gupta.

He felt no jolt, no shock. He felt like he had been in love forever.

He looked at her across the table, as she took bites out of her cotton candy.

They had been on five rides so far. Dhruv had taken the seat beside her on two, Lavanya had insisted on him being with her on two, and one had single seats only.

A frustrated frown revealed his feelings, as he watched her laughing at something Mona whispered into her ear.

This just won’t do.

“Anyone want ice cream?” Aman stood up.

“You stay here, I’ll go get it” , he said, leaving the table without waiting for Aman’s reply.

——

“Hi”

Arnav startled as he heard the whisper behind him.

“Lavanya, what are you doing here?” He turned towards her.

“I couldn’t let you stand in line alone, could I ?” She smiled and tilted her head.

Annoyance creeped up on him, like a wave.

“We talked about this, Lavanya. You can’t make friends by sticking to me. You need to talk to others.”

Her eyes widened in shock. Probably at the harsh tone he had used.

“I don’t want that, Arnav. No one gets me like you do”

“Well I want to be with others! You can’t get through school like this, Lavanya. And I know that my friends have been doing everything to make you feel comfortable”

“Come on Arnav! They are your friends, not mine. We have fun together, just us two! I don’t want anything more”

He ran a hand through his hair roughly.

“I wanted you to be well settled in because the teachers asked me to. But you have been looking at it all wrong. I like you Lavanya and I want to be your friend , but I cannot be with you all the time!”

“Whatever! You can leave if you want,” she rolled her eyes.

Arnav walked off, his brisk steps taking him away, leaving a scorned girl behind.

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

On public demand 🙈 I realised that Arnav's pov was needed at this juncture ~ let me know what you think!

Tagging:

@hand-picked-star @phuljari @msbhagirathi @thenainitaldisaster @thedupattaknowswhatsup @jalebi-weds-bluetooth @barshifan @andli @shiyaravi @chutkiandchotte @laad-governess @minpdnim @bigfatreader @arshiradio @simplycurlz @scorpio-smiles @bengudill @exosexosekai @0218fm

Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the tag list!

#ipkknd fanfiction #ipkknd ff #ipkknd fanfic #ipkknd #arshi #arnav singh raizada #khushi kumari gupta #iss pyaar ko kya naam doon #ipk 13th anniversary fiesta #arnav x khushi

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monstersinthecosmos · 23 days

Text

Vamptember Day 3 - Slice of Life

{gavin luke - come spring}

It’s pouring rain and smells like lightning outside. Darker than it usually is this time of day, so that when Marius wakes he’s already missed the last bits of the sunset behind the heavy storm clouds.

He craves it sometimes. Even two millennia in—perhaps because it’s two millennia in—he keeps wondering if he can trick the Blood, even just for a few seconds. He wonders, as he gets older, how much earlier he can wake, how much he can push it. How long before his eyes stop hurting when the sky is still red.

But it’s nice, for now. Soothing to wake to the thunder.

He leaves the balcony doors open and turns on Rádio CBN as he wanders about, running through his early evening routine. He dresses, and stands in front of the bathroom mirror for a little too long, trying to decide if he should cut off his hair tonight. He has been, recently. It feels lighter when he and Daniel go out. Tonight he thinks he wants to stay inside. Maybe just sit on the balcony and enjoy the rain. He stares at his his hair for a moment, tilts his head to see the way it gleams in the artificial light.

Sometimes he wonders what Daniel sees in him.

More to do. He shuts the lights off, takes a trip down to the front desk to check their mail. Daniel has been waiting on a book he ordered from the internet, but it’s not here yet. A postcard from Benji, though, and Marius smiles down at it as he rides the elevator back up.

Then he gets the incense lit, checks his emails, tries to remember where he left his new mobile phone. It’s the third one he’s bought this year. Keeps leaving them places.

Excitable Portuguese spills through the radio speakers, recapping a sporting event from earlier in the afternoon. Marius raises an eyebrow, glances towards the bedroom, listening for clues that Daniel is awake. He’s gotten into the local team and DVR’s the day games. He hates getting spoilers before he can watch. It’s still quiet, though, a little early for him.

The radio is nice, as he paces the suite. Fills the space a little, the voices blending with the rain. Less lonely, while he waits for Daniel to wake up. He pauses in the doorway of the bedroom, tempted to go wake him, staring at the shining mahogany doors of the walk-in closet.

Daniel’s made them a little nest in there, where it’s light-tight. Marius had found it silly at first, told him it wasn’t a good solution if they were to live here. Told him they could find another place. Daniel had insisted, though. Called it a pillow fort.

Marius can survive in the large bed during the day—the heavy curtains are enough for him now—but he finds himself in there more often than not. Sort of cozy. Reminds him of the early years, with Pandora, curled together as the sun pulls him under every morning. It’s been a long time since he woken in another’s arms.

He considers calling her.

No real reason. Just feels nice to sometimes, now that technology allows for it. But he can’t remember where she’s been lately, isn’t sure about the time zone.

Can’t remember where he left his phone, either. His eyes sweep across the suite, half-heartedly open to spotting it, but he doesn’t try harder than that. She probably finds him boring, anyway. It’s fine.

Just wait for Daniel.

He shrugs to himself. Shakes the energy out of his hands.

The room came stocked with a decorative Gisele Bündchen coffee table book, and he picks it up to bring outside. He tucks himself into the loveseat on the terrace, safely beneath the awning where it’s dry. He’s looked through this book every night since they’ve been here.

Something haunting about the photographs, and he keeps studying them. The dramatic lighting, the use of color, the way she steels herself and challenges the camera lens. Marius makes eye contact with the glossy paper, wondering about her, and this character she plays.

Humans are so strange.

Or, not at all. He supposes it’s the most normal thing in the world, since antiquity, no different from the drama and fantasy of ancient texts. This old play-pretend, as if she’s some ethereal creature, and not a soft mortal child.

He stops on a photo where she’s draped in green fabric, her figure timeless, like the marble statues from when he was alive. Then there’s one taken with a camera flash, quick and messy, where she’s laughing, hair thrown back, color warm and utterly mortal in her face. The next she’s wearing a tiger head, and then painted black, unnatural and dangerous behind a string of barbed wire. Some are high fashion and some are raw human mess. She stands in a garbage pail on one page, then sprawls across the ground with flowers growing from between her legs on the next.

Marius hadn’t wanted to go out tonight, but he wonders if he should go paint. Find someplace quiet and dry, ponder these facets of a human life.

Too deep in thought to hear the wardrobe open. And he doesn’t hear Daniel’s bare feet, his light steps through he suite. It startles him when Daniel flops into the loveseat.

“Mornin,” he says, and kisses Marius on the cheek.

Marius shuts the book, hugging it to his chest as he looks out over the balcony, towards the ocean. Lightning flickers in the distance, and the bass of a car radio floats up from the avenue below, and he loves the charge of humidity in the air. Loves the tactile embrace of it on his skin. Daniel teases him about it sometimes, keeps saying he’s like having a pet lizard, but he doesn’t comment on it now, just snuggles in where he’s supposed to be. They barely fit on the couch together, and Daniel shifts sideways to drape his legs over Marius’s lap.

“That book again?” he asks.

Feels silly, for some reason. Marius shrugs. “She’s very interesting to me.”

“There’s one in there that kinda reminds me of Piss Christ.”

Marius rolls his eyes. He won’t admit it, but he knows exactly the one Daniel means.

“It’s a strange book to provide in a hotel,” he says. He taps his nails against it, watching the shape of the clouds over the ocean. “Or. Maybe not. Maybe I’m being old fashioned.”

Daniel shrugs. He’s got his phone out now, face glowing in the electric light as he thumbs through his evening reads. It seems like he isn’t paying attention, isn’t interested in the conversation, absorbed in his phone for a few minutes before he lays a hand on Marius’s thigh and indulges him.

“I mean, it’s like you’re always talking about the value of art. Who gets to call something art, how much is elitist social construct, yada yada. It’s cool that some snooty buyer for the hotel wasn’t afraid to see it as fine art, yeah?” He laughs at his phone, and before Marius can ask he flips it around to show a meme from Imgur. Marius isn’t sure what it means, but Daniel’s laugh is contagious.

“Yes,” Marius says. He drops a hand to Daniel’s shin, strokes it back and forth as he watches the storm, drifting further and further away from them as the time passes. “You’re very right.”

#vamptember #marius/daniel #marius de romanus #daniel molloy #vampire chronicles

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thetommoway-oioii · 2 months

Note

For Buddie, what about an established relationship prompt where they tell Christopher they're engaged? 💕

Hi @iced-coffee-jesus (love the pfp)!!! thank you for the ask! since there aren't many details I'm gonna assume you want me to take creative liberties! :D

anyway here it goes! apologies for any mistakes, I'm not a native English speaker or a good editor.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You and Me Until The End

Buck paced a hole into Eddie's living room. It was like watching a clock pendulum. Eddie was sat on the sofa, warily watching Buck. Buck came to a halt, gave Eddie a look that either read 'I'm nervous and scared' or 'I'm about to punch something'. Eddie was about 87% sure that it was the first one. Buck went back to pacing around. Eddie continued his brainstorming for making Buck stop.

"It's gonna be fin-" Eddie started but Buck was staring at him as if daring him to continue.

"Don't you dare tell me it's gonna be fine." Buck stated and continued walking around nervously, his hand now at his mouth, biting nails. Not a thing he often did but a bad habit he'd picked up as a kid whenever he was scared.

Eddie raised his hands in surrender. He was fond and worried about how much Buck was overthinking. Fond because he couldn't believe that the blond loved him enough to be this anxious and worried because he was certain Buck was overthinking too much.

"Babe" Eddie spoke gently and patted the empty couch space beside him.

Buck stopped in his tracks and contemplated what to do. He sighed heavily and plopped down next to Eddie, immediately leaning on his shoulder. Eddie wrapped an arm around Buck and pulled him closer, running his fingers through the blond's curls.

"You know he loves you to death right?" Eddie started, pressing a kiss to Buck's temple.

"I know.. what if he thinks I'm trying to replace Shannon though?" Buck hid his face into Eddie's abdomen. He loved Christopher so much. He didn't wanna lose the boy. He had been scared to tell him about his relationship with Eddie even though, rationally he knew Chris was secretly rooting for it. Relationship was one thing, engagement was another. This was serious now. He was afraid that even though Chris loved him, he wouldn't feel comfortable having someone replace his mother's place.

"Honey, he knows how much you love him and respect him and that you'd never ever try to do anything that he wasn't comfortable with. Plus he already sees you like a second parent Buck. You're not replacing Shannon in his mind or heart, he is gaining another extra parent. Someone who will love him just like I do and just like Shannon did. Please stop worrying so much." Eddie continued stroking Buck's hair, trying to comfort the man.

"I hope you're right because I canno-" Buck stopped when he heard keys rattling behind the front door. He sat up straight and immediately took off his engagement ring and slipped it into his pocket. He took a deep breath in as Carla opened the door and Chris walked in, his face lighting up immediately seeing both Buck and Eddie at the couch.

"Sorry boys, can't come in, I'm running late." Carla said from the front door before slipping out and shutting it behind her. Chris slowly made his way toward the both of them. Buck moved to the side and made space for Chris between him and Eddie. Chris sat down and gave a hug to each of them.

"Welcome back buddy. Did you have fun at school?" Buck asked, all his anxiety carefully placed behind a unbreakable mask.

"Yeah! We worked around in school's terrace garden today. It was really cool and fun!" Chris said enthusiastically.

"That's great buddy! Listen, there was something Buck and I wanted to talk to you about." Eddie sat up a straight, the mood shifting to a more serious tone.

Chris looked between Buck and Eddie and nodded, "Is it about the engagement?" He asked, shocking both the firefighters.

"You.. uh you know about that?" Buck asked, the mask slipping ever so slightly.

"Yeah," Chris nodded. "I saw the ring besides the kitchen sink a few days ago. I figured you'd tell me soon." He smiled brightly. If his expressions were anything to go by, he didn't seem upset at all.

Buck let out a half relieved sigh, though not completely sure if this was gonna end badly or not. "And.. how do you feel about that? Like are you okay with me and your dad getting married?" Buck asked tentatively, not sure if he was ready to hear the answer.

Chris looked at him with a weird face before turning to Eddie and giving him a look that read 'Is he serious?' Eddie half managed to contain his chuckle at Chris' expression. Chris turned to Buck and gave him a big smile.

"Of course Buck! I love you and Dad loves you too! I'm happy that you're officially gonna be my family now. I can have two dads now!" Chris moves closer to Buck and gives him a hug. He wasn't sure why Buck looked so scared but hugs always made everything better so he decided to give his Buck one too. Maybe now he'll be more at ease.

Buck slowly relaxed as he held Chris in his arms. Logically he was about 90% sure that this was gonna go well but his mind had spewed all kinds of doubts all day. Now, seeing the smile and love on Chris' face, he could let go of those doubts. Buck looked over to Eddie over Chris' shoulder and saw the most adorable, softest look on the man's face. He beckoned him forward to join in the hug as well and when Eddie held them both in his arms, Buck knew, nothing in the world could ever take this away from him.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

(title from The Greatest by Louis Tomlinson)

that's it! I hope you like it. if you have any other requests or prompts please don't hesitate to send an ask.

again apologies for any mistakes.

#buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #christopher diaz #evan buck buckley is christopher diaz's father #911 #911 abc #buddie fic #prompt fic #prompt asks #stiles writes #ask reply #contributing to the Eddie calls Buck Babe AND Honey agenda

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hannahssimblr · 5 months

Text

Once, years ago now, Aunt Maureen took me to visit her eldest daughter, Karina. In the midday heat, beneath the shade of a fig tree we sat in a Venice restaurant, where bougainvillaea draped over the front of flat roofed houses and fragrant blooms edged the terrace.

I loved Los Angeles. The food was always better, the people happier, the streets more colourful and picturesque than in Albuquerque, where everything was brown and beige, blending with the dust land. Karina laughed when I said this, sitting back in her chair in her oval sunglasses, a cigarette balanced between long slender fingers.

“You should see where I live downtown, then I’ll ask you again how much you love it here.”

I didn’t know what she meant. I was thinking about those cool guys I’d seen on a basketball court earlier with their hats on backwards, the loud, bass heavy music they played from a speaker, and the skaters who dropped lazily into concrete basins on their boards. I wanted to be one of them, though I knew Maureen would never buy me something dangerous like a skateboard. I played things a bit fast and loose at the best of times and once almost rollerbladed clean off a pier, so she’d developed a fear that I might one day die of pure stupidity. Maybe when I was older and she wasn’t watching me from the kitchen window anymore I would move to LA, get myself a board and skate around on it without wearing a shirt, and get muscles and a deep tan like everyone else here.

These were the kinds of thoughts I lost myself in as Maureen and Karina had conversations that either weren’t interesting or which I was unable to understand, but I was content sipping on my Fanta with ice, lurid orange, and so fizzy that it stung the back of my throat and thinking about being a grown up in LA while Maureen had her white wine and Karina her cigarettes. Soon they would order a plate of oysters that looked too much like boogers for me to sample and speak more about things happening, things that had already happened, and plans they’d made for the summer.

“What’s your favourite time of year?” Karina said to me suddenly, snapping me out of my thoughts. I knew this is the sort of question you ask a seven year old when you don’t know how to speak to children, but I thought hard about it anyway to make sure I gave her the best answer I could. She was my cool, mature cousin, and I always wanted so badly to impress her. November and December, I told her, because I got presents on my birthday, then time off school on Thanksgiving and both these things on Christmas. I was still reeling from the PlayStation console that Maureen and her husband Mario had bought me last Christmas, slotted perfectly within its square, silver box, which I still had, stored carefully beneath my bed just in case I ever needed to pack it away and move it.

“What about you, mom?” She said, and Maureen didn’t have to think.

“The spring,” she said, “I just love to be out in my garden then, with all the flowers and that lovely sun, it’s not too hot. It feels like everything is just on the brink of bursting to life.”

I thought about that later as we passed the canal, all the beautiful spring flowers that erupted from the banks, and of home too, where by now, in the hazy days of mid May, the desert was blanketed with spring grasses, with violets and golden poppies and bluebonnets, burning a trail of vibrant indigo all the way to the mountains.

Beginning // Prev // Next

Ty to @scrapplesims for suffering living in LA once upon a time and for answering my weirdly specific questions about what it was like

#lucky boy 2009 #another flashback!#these are too fun to do tbh #any excuse to get out of dreary dublin (san sequoia)#and chilling out in LA (DS Valley)#hopefully I'll be back to regular updates soon!#it's been BUSY friends #tw: smoking #tw: alcohol

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clarabowmp3 · 5 months

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here's what I love about loml: the melody and lyrics fit together so well that nothing sounds clunky, but she's still not compromising on artistic value. in fact, i'd say the shorter lyrics enhance the quality as its just sucker punch after sucker punch. the cadence of most of the song (as per the line fragments) sounds like someone taking short breaths, as if debilitatingly encumbered by emotion. or, if we take it further in the context of the funeral motif, like someone taking their last breaths.

there is this 'duality' (opposites) to the song in sooo many ways: first in the lyrics (never before/never since, one kiss/getting married, alive/cemetery, low-down boy/stand-up guy, all time/momentary, "I'll never leave"/"never mind") then in the first chorus she paints a picture of a wedding but its almost unnervingly unclear because of all the funeral diction (cemetery, killing time, (holy) ghost). as the song shifts from 'love' to 'loss,' the wedding image gets juxtaposed by one of a funeral, and YET there are parts where the two blur together (suit and tie, at some point that glow starts to feel like a hole) -> which I feel so perfectly represents the tension in that relationship where there is such a fine line separating the two harsh extremes.

even as the duality starts to dissolve past the first chorus (more emphasis on the 'loss' --> con man, get-love-quick scheme (scam), hole), the tender melody and pleasingly smooth vocals remain which creates this unsettling effect since that quiet peace has been flipped on its head to be turned into this quiet devastation. taking it one step further, the fact that this song is phrased to be written completely in hindsight (past tense throughout) it makes the quiet unassuming joy the speaker gets from their fictional wedding feel even more tragic.

by the time we get to the second chorus there is minimal ambiguity in her tone, it is 100% fully one of mourning and bordering on anger (as seen in the bridge). even in her contemptuous 'Mr. Steal Your Girl,' she follows it up with how hurt she feels over him calling her the love of his life as if she can't even be properly/fully angry at this person. in fact, that line is at the end of the chorus, almost symbolising how she can feel as angry as she wants at him, but despite all that there's this underlying grief and despair over his inability to follow through with his love-of-his-life promises. as the message gets clearer, the message/feeling of the song hits harder as there is less confusion or ambiguity.

in the bridge, there's this fantastical image of 'dancing phantoms' which reignites that confusion in the song with the added instability from the sinister image of the phantoms, plus the cadence of the song increases, she's talking faster now and there's less 'empty room,' indicating more pointed/stronger emotion. with the song's tone of this bone-deep grief, the 'terrace' might be a very very subtle nod to suicidal ideation, emphasis on the might. throughout the song she rattles btw love and loss, so this sudden suggestion that it was 'counterfeit' casts doubt on the validity of her emotions in the first place.

here we also start to move past from the duality as indicated by the three tiers of legendary -> momentary -> unnecessary, as if she is washing her hands of the whole affair ('should've let it STAY BURIED'). this lyric also indicates her moving past the duality as letting something stay buried implies that it has already been buried, ie its 'funeral' has passed, and the funeral motif was used as part of the duality representation from earlier.

anyways all this to say for most of the reasons above ^^ this song also gives me STRONG corpse bride vibes of which i made an edit here if anyone's interested :)

#this has been a loml appreciation postTM #this analysis is my baby i'll be pinning it for a while #loml #taylor swift #ttpd #the tortured poets department #lyric analysis

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digitalproductsautomation · 7 months

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ramayantika · 1 year

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Nataraja (mystery academia)

You accidentally stumbled into an old temple located deep within a forest. There is a large bronze idol of a dancing god shrouded in darkness except a single diya illuminating the face of the idol. Did his eyes just gleam at you?

It's 4.30 in the morning. The whole world is asleep, but you are on the terrace dancing in darkness. For anybody else, it would be scary seeing how the giant trees sway their branches in sync with the rhythm of your ghungroos until you sit on the floor in exhaustion. Eyes closes, chest too heavy to breathe in, sweat drips down from your forehead until you hear a distant jingle of ankle bells from the staircase.

You are the last one to leave the dance class. Your guru has left the premises, leaving you the keys because you wanted extra time to practice the new piece you are to perform on Mahashivratri. The speakers were working just fine until out of the blue they screech horribly and emit the sound of a damru (a small two headed drum)

Your class is going to start in a while. You were among the early comers so you decided to offer the pranam and sit until the others come on time. Your touch the floor and a strange sensation runs along your fingers. The floor definitely wasn't metallic. When you open your eyes, you see a man holding large flames in his hand. You blink and he disappears.

The old grandmother in your neighbourhood is narrating the story of Nataraja, the God of Dance by whom every Indian dance form has been inspired. Her body is old, but her eyes sparkle as if she were young. You see her finger movements, they move with a skillful precision as if she were dancing the story out. You were heading towards your tution when her gaze lands upon you, and she blesses you with her hand upraised. "Shivoham shivoham"

"Look far, look within..." The sound fills your ears until you feel a soft touch on your forehead. You look up and see a man's face effused with peace and serenity. A large fiery circle moves around him. The fire enchants your eyes. Could flames appear this beautiful? The radiant colour of yellow blue flames dances across your face and you see them glow even more yet the flames don't hurt your eyes. As a small child who is attracted to colourful flames, you stretch your hand to touch them. A voice brings you away from the man and the fiery circle. "Beta, are you okay? You fainted midway through the song."

"No, beta I am not able to see Shiva in you. I want you to portray his stillness, his divinity, him as the overseer of all. Your stance has to match of a God. Take a break and we'll get back to it." You are tired. Your clothes are drenched in sweat and your limbs are about to surrender if you even move an inch. You close your eyes. The sound of your heartbeat deafens your ears. The sound of your heart starts sounding similar to a drum. It doesn't cause yout breath however to accelerate any further. It calms you down and a breeze of cool air brushes your face providing you a moment of respite.

Dark patterns swirl around you and you feel yourself getting lost in them. You hear the juniors chattering about the new movie and the sound of the nattuvangam in another class. You are aware of the present -- this isn't a dream. The dark swirling patterns start clearing like a mist and you see a strange yet bewitching sight. There is a large stage in front, but no audience. There is no roof but the endless night sky filled with countless stars. You see yourself dance. There's no music, no nattuvangam or any instrument playing around. Your body yet moves to some unknown rhythm played by nature. The same man with pleasant looks joins you. He wears the fiery circle as a garland around him. His large feet sports ghungroos same as yours and a beautiful smile graces his lips.

He dances around you, beside you. When you strike a pose, he takes up the same. When you pause and gaze afar at the darkness, he stops and acts the same. You don't feel fear or anything unusual about him. You dance as if he were your dancemate from class. Your head feels a sharp pain and you clutch it to catch one last look at the elegantly dancing man before you lose you consciousness again. You strike the famous Nataraja pose, and the man joins you too, but stands behind. You look at your dancing self from front and the sight is astounding. He appears as if he has merged into you. The space where he stands glows and the same whispers circulate around your being. 'Look far, look within..'

The stage lights are on. The chief guest are bus with their speeches while you blast Nirvana Shatakam in your headphones. You can't understand the loud noise in your head. There is a strange restlessness in your heart. You are anticipating an event, with no idea of what could it be. Worried, if you would give justice to the dance piece, you sink back and close your eyes. 'Neither am I the sky, nor the earth, neither the fire nor the air, I am Shiva.'

It feels as if an ocean of bliss surrounds you. You can't see the audience nor the musicians. You don't even hear the music nor the chime of ghungrus. Darkness surrounds you which isn't unsettling. You are aware that you are dancing and then a voice rings from somewhere above or is it your heart? Have you known this truth from so long?

Everything dances. The universe, the galaxies, the stars, the planets and the living. There's a silent music everywhere. It never stops not even when you stop dancing. With the birth of creation to its death, the dance of Creation and Destructions keeps going on. The stage is infinite. Look far! The great void stares back at you. It holds answer to your questions and you. Who are you? What do you seek? Who are you in this ever continuous dancing circle? How many births did you take to understand this simple truth? You are limitless -- you are me. I am you. We are one.

The audience burst into an applause. The sound deafens your ears. Some of the old people are in tears as they stand up and bow down to you. You realize that the dance music is still playing. 'Shivoham Shivoham' You bow down at the audience when your eyes catch sight at a silver gleam amongst the crowd. Matted hair, a crescent moon on the head, skin as white as camphor, rudraksha beads around his neck and arms. He raises his hands with a smile in blessing. Your eyes tear up, as you chant, "Shivoham"

#desiblr #writing #shiva #nataraja #mystery academia #hindublr

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deliciousangelfestival · 1 year

Text

How To Deal With Satanic Relatives - Lloyd Hansen Series

Character: Lloyd Hansen x Rich!Female Reader

Summary: After discovering the truth about your parents, you became more ambitious to get back at your so-called relative.

Warning: Tortured scenes, harsh language, 18+.

Words Count: 3,200,-

This is a series. Check out Part 1 and Part 2 , Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Extra Story

Series Masterlist.

Also, my MASTERLIST.

Author Notes: Part 3 finally arrived !!! Thank you for the incredible feedback from the previous post.

And I didn't give names to her relatives. I used 1st uncle, 2nd uncle, 3rd aunt, etc. Cause our readers to have a big family tree.

Don't be shy if you want to be tagged in the series and for the next part. 😄💕

Reblog, comments and any feedback are appreciated.

Any idea for the story will significantly help me get more inspiration.

After knowing the truth about your parents' accidents, your mind went blank. You didn't hear when Lloyd or Jimmy called your name.

You went to the garden near the fountain. Only the sound of water could calm you.

You sat down on the side of the fountain. You looked up to the sky and sighed.

To be honest, you don’t see your cousins as a threat.

Even now, it hurts you, knowing someone related to you by blood, desperately wanting you dead.

From the outside, they made their image as philanthropy and a saint.

What’s the point of them going to church every Sunday if they want to kill their niece?

Are they asking for forgiveness for sending assassins to kill their niece or praying to God to take away their life?

While you were alone, Jimmy and Lloyd looked at you from the second-floor terrace.

From afar, Jimmy could feel your sadness; he sighed, "It hurts her. Deep down, she hoped they could change."

“Do you want to tell me why they gave me a deadline to kill her before Wednesday at 1pm?"

Jimmy clicked his tongue. "Next week, there's an important meeting with the shareholders. If Y/N attends the meeting, her position will be secured."

“Didn’t her grandfather choose her?”

“Yes. But there’s a flaw. She only granted the name CEO. Her job is only as a spokesperson or the face of the company. She couldn’t make a decision or take part in a meeting.”

"The truth behind the former chairman's will is there's no free food. He wants Y/N to work hard to earn everyone's trust."

“That's why the meeting on Wednesday is critical. Y/N will present new projects that are worth around 500 billion dollars.”

Lloyd almost choked on his breath. 500 billion?! He starts to feel lucky to have you as his wife.

"It's supposed to be a secret but her relatives found out and they want to steal the project from her. If she attends the meeting along with the presentation, her position as CEO is not just a name.”

Lloyd chuckled. "I have got to say her family is more complicated than any mission that I ever had.”

"Well, you’re part of it now. And you fit perfectly."

Lloyd was silent; he didn't deny it after signing the contract. He wondered what happened when a lunatic met with greedy people.

Jimmy noticed Lloyd kept looking in your direction. "Go to her."

When he finds you, you look paralysed. You didn't even show any reaction when he sat beside you.

There was a moment of silence until he heard you say, “I bet they are happy right now if I'm dead.”

"Hmm."

He doesn't want to tell you, but they are. Since you look like a corpse, he thinks it's too much for you to handle.

At the Tech room after you left.

When you were alone, Lloyd ordered the Tech team to hack your cousin's phone and listened to their conversation.

Your cousin is in France right now at a ski resort. Celebrating your death.

"Finally, she's dead."

"Our prayer has been answered."

From the speaker, they sound joyful, laughing, and singing.

One soldier couldn't believe there was a family like that. "Boss, from the satellite the snow is quite thick. If there's an avalanche, no one will suspects anything."

Another soldier said, "Our assets in France has a lot of TNT."

Lloyd smiled. "That will do. Bonus for you both."

*Sniffed* "My mother just donated money to the church cause she's too happy." *Sniffed*

Lloyd shot the speaker; he couldn't continue the conversation.

"The one who snorted the cocaine just now is a police officer."

Lloyd smiled, "Anyone who got their deepest secrets will get a bonus this year."

"Yes, boss!!!"

Lloyd was surprised to see his employees become excited. "Wow, anyone became excited because of money."

'Like you don't?!'

“I thought maybe they would change because blood is thicker than water. But to my family, money is number one.”

Lloyd doesn't understand why he became sentimental when he saw you sad like this, perhaps because of his new title as your husband. You became his responsibility, and he wants to help you.

He grabs your chins "You’re not alone. Did you forget you got yourself a husband? You didn’t have to endure it by yourself.” Lloyd was into his role as a husband and then laughed like a naughty child.

The sad atmosphere faded away because of him. Your stress finally calmed down.

You slipped a small laugh "Pfft."

"Something funny?"

You nodded. "Being encouraged by a contract killer like you is far more effective than talking to my psychiatrist."

Lloyd liked it when he heard your laugh. So this is what it looks like when you don't carry a burden.

"Now that you look alive again, we need to go inside since we have a little time before Wednesday."

You walked out of the maze together; you didn't bother telling Lloyd to release his hand holding yours.

"If we do this plan, your company name could be ruined"

"Well at least I still have a husband. He just made a deal worth 3 billion."

Lloyd smirked at your answers, "That's right, and he's willing to kill for her."

Yup. You choose a perfect man.

Wednesday

At the L/N Office Headquarters

Inside the conference room, every shareholder was busy discussing where Y/N was. Some of them prefer your relatives, and some of them are on your side.

"Where is she? I called her phone and her secretary doesn't even know where she is."

"If the rumor were true, she died because of a car accident, her oldest uncle will replace her."

"If he becomes the CEO, I will sell my share."

"Everyone, the meeting will start in a minute. Please take a sit with your name on it."

After every guest was seated, two people stood from their chairs and walked up to the stage.

Both of them are the eldest child of the chairman. And the 2nd son, who became a priest after his business failed.

Under the bright light, they could see 1st uncle and 2nd uncle looked like they were grieving. It seems like the rumour is true. Their niece Y/N got into an accident.

1st Uncle stood at the podium, his face moving closer to the microphone. "I have to say thank you to anyone who attended the meeting. But I have sad news that I need to share."

He took a deep breath and said, "Our dear niece Y/N L/N got into an accident two days ago."

He grabs a handkerchief from his chest pocket to wipe his fake tears and hide his smile.

Like his brother, 2nd uncle also clenches his fist to hold his laugh, and their sister, who sits, also acts their crocodile tears.

People on your team couldn't accept the news because they trusted you.

"That's a lie!!!"

1st uncle sighed. "I know it's hard to accept, but we must move on."

To silence the noisy guest, 1st uncle waved at his brother to speak in front of the microphone.

2nd uncle sighed. "It's unbearable, but I'm glad everyone here cares for our niece. Let's take a moment to pray for her."

Their strategy worked because everyone inside the room became quiet.

"Heavenly Father, we ask for your mercy and grace for Y/N’s soul as they begin their journey into eternity. Please bring them into your loving arms and grant them peace and rest. We also pray that those left behind will find comfort and hope in your presence and the promise of eternal life.

At this moment, we also pray for my dear brother who will replace our niece as the company's new leader. Heavenly Father,-"

A sudden female voice interrupted his prayers. "I have decided to hand such a person over to Satan for the destruction of the flesh, in order that his spirit may be saved on the day of the Lord."

That voice made everyone shiver because they knew who the voice's owner was.

2nd uncle opened his eyes and looked at the door. Not just him but everyone was shocked looking at you standing and alive.

"I'm not surprised anymore, you guys pray for my death."

"Y/N!!!"

Your 3rd aunty was quick and clapped her hands. "It's a miracle. The French police told us they couldn't find your body."

You didn't say anything to her and walked to the stage, making Benjamin, whose knees were weak, fall.

You looked down at him with a mocking smile. "What is it, uncle? It felt like you see a ghost."

"All of you should go before you embarrass yourself."

1st uncle dragged his brother and left the conference room. Your aunties also followed him.

Every guest was silent, but they knew what had happened in the family.

You spoke through the microphone, "I'm sorry for being late. I will cut to the chase. Everyone may check their phones to read the proposal documents. The project is worth 500 billion dollars."

You did the presentation as short and straightforward. After you finished the slides, you were worried because it was just silence. But then you could hear them clap their hands.

You bowed your head to hide your tears. Finally, after four years, you got the approval.

After the successful meeting, you walked out of the company building. There's Lloyd, who's waiting in his black van.

"Congrats, CEO Y/N."

You smiled and sat beside him. "Everything's ready?"

"They're waiting for you, sunshine."

When your relatives leave the conference room somewhere at the warehouse, Lloyd and his team kidnap them to an empty warehouse big enough for three aeroplanes.

“Where are we?” 3rd aunt woke up from her nap and saw her siblings tied to the chair. And there's a group of men with a gun standing behind them.

“Remember the failed project that your son operated?” Your voice echoes inside the warehouse.

“This is the land. It’s perfect for a satellite city but because of your son's stupidity… What a shame.”

Your relative turned their head and saw you walking with a man they'd never seen before. Except for your first uncle, he knew who it was.

"Shit…we are fucked."

4th aunt asked, "Who is he?"

1st uncle whispered, "The guy that I hired to kill her."

5th aunt screamed "Y/N you bitch!!! Let us go!!!"

'BANG'

"AARGH!! Why me? I didn't say anything." 6th aunt screamed because the bullet hit her leg.

Lloyd put down the gun. "No one talks rudely to my wife."

"What?! You're married? With him? And without any ceremonies?" 3rd aunt was in disbelief.

Lloyd was offended, but you spoke first. “I’m disgusted with your concern. FYI, I felt safer with him rather than with you. In your eyes, I’m just a fly that you wait to kill.”

7th aunt tried to be sweet towards you. “Y/N that I know won’t be this cruel.” She never talks to you with respect; this is the first time she's been nice.

You smiled and leaned down. “Aunty, that old Y/N is dead. And this Y/N is out of patience with all of you.”

1st uncle clicked his tongue. "So what now? You're going to kill us ?"

You looked at him for a minute and nodded.

"You ungrateful dog!!!"

'BANG!'

"Fuck!!!" 1st, uncle screamed because of the pain in the shoulder he had never felt before.

"Once again, whoever disrespects my wife will get shot in the head."

You whispered thank you to Lloyd, which made him bow to you.

You sit on the chair facing your relatives. "Here's a thing about grandfather's will. He left me another note.

He wrote, "If Y/N got the approval from shareholders, she's free to do whatever she wants like get rid of the rotten part of the company."

You raised a pointed finger to them. "Do you understand what he meant? The rotten part is you, my dear aunties and uncles."

Your relatives were hurt when they heard that, even after their father's death, he was able to hurt their feelings.

"Grandfather knew from the beginning that you did not fit in the company. He built this company with sweat, tears, and blood. All of you except my father did a terrible job.”

There was silence until the 7th aunt laughed like a maniac. She said, “Father blames mother for giving birth to stupid kids.”

“While his illegitimate child is the smartest one."

You didn't show any reaction, but inside, you were shocked.

“You didn’t know, did you?”

No way, you didn’t know this fact.

You know your grandma always gave a side-eye towards you and your parents every time you visited.

You always wondered why she never invited you to her tea time. She asked all her grandchildren except you.

You never spend time with your grandmother because you are always busy with the tutor.

Your grandfather's house was big, but you felt suffocated. That's why you choose to study abroad. You felt free.

After your grandmother died, you don't mind studying at Harvard. When she died, she didn't leave you anything. While others got jewellery, a plot of land, her yacht and her villas.

You don't care cause your grandmother says hurtful things about your mother cause she's not from a wealthy family.

So all of this is because they are jealous.

“That’s why we hated you. If he gave you 5% of his fortune, we don’t mind. But you, who is not 100% related to us, got all his wealth?” He scoffed. “It’s not fair.”

“That’s why you killed my parents?”

"Your father acts like he doesn’t want to, but he accepts the offer. Your mother, I hated that smudged face when she found out she won.”

Your relatives were waiting for your reaction since you put your head down.

“Thank you for telling me.”

You start to walk away from them. “Now I have no regrets about making your life miserable.”

1st uncle gritted his teeth, "Our children will get you, Y/N."

"Ah, do you want to know where your kids are?”

You snapped your fingers, and a few people appeared to set the projectors.

The projectors show the news of an avalanche at the ski resorts.

Ten victims and still counting, and many people are digging in the snow to find other victims.

7th aunt had a cold sweat because she recognised the place. Her fears become a reality when she sees someone being pulled out from the snow.

“Alex?”

“Christopher?”

That’s when they knew their kids were buried under the snow. They screamed in agony.

While you look unbothered, “They got into an accident. Just like my parents."

"Fucking bitch."

'BANG!'

Before you know who got shot, your eyes are covered with someone's hand. You knew who the owner was because his moustache tickled your neck.

"I think it's enough. You shouldn't see what happened next."

"But…"

"Shh…shhh… let your husband do the dirty work." He still covers your eyes with his hand and brings you to Jimmy.

"Don't let her hear anything." Jimmy nodded and got you outside, far from the warehouse.

After Lloyd was sure, you had left. He snapped his fingers, and immediately his soldiers got into their positions. While others dragged the 7th aunt's body.

1st uncle wasn't ready to watch his youngest siblings get shot between her eyes.

"You crazy bastards. You're supposed to kill her, I already sent you the money."

"Ooh, that one." Lloyd opened a briefcase and showed them, "Here's the money, along with the penalty."

"Don't tell me,-"

Lloyd nodded. "Yup. You niece offered more money, and she's right. She's worth more than 40 million dollars."

"We could give you more money."

Lloyd shook his head and grabbed the screen tablets. "You have no more money. And it's nice to be the good guy for once. Usually I become the executioner."

He stands before the 1st uncle and reads the file, "You really don't give a shit with poor people do you? The collapsed factory and buried hundreds of workers?"

"It's not my fault."

"Yes, it was your sign who gave the permission to build with low quality material."

2nd uncle "You use the church money that supposed to widows and orphanage and gave it to your son who addicted to gambling."

3rd aunt "You stole the insurance money that was worth 1.5 billion dollars. And made a fake charity for breast cancer patients."

4th, 5th aunt "Wow, two of you made a fake investment, killed your in-laws and stole their assets."

6th aunt "And the last one, the most evil one. You tortured your maid because you thought she stole your pearl earring. Turns out, it was you who forgot. Always blame someone for your mistakes. And to make it worst, you and your two sons like to torture animals. Gosh, you guys are disgusting."

Lloyd shook his head. "Y/N were right, you are far worst than devil." His hand grab pincers from his pants pocket.

Other soldiers also follow his suits. Each of them stands in front of the elders.

Lloyd holds the 3rd aunt's fingers. She was scared, but screaming was useless because their mouths were taped.

"I always hate long nails."

He pulled one nail that made the 3rd aunt cry, "Mmrghh!!!"

Lloyd looked at his soldiers. "Pull the nails slowly to make them remember the pain."

"Yes boss!!!"

A few hours later, Lloyd came out from the warehouse. He wiped his hands from the blood. Then he walked to the black van and knocked on the window.

The car door slid open, and Lloyd jumped to sit beside you. He saw you were busy typing, "What are you doing?"

"Decorated a retired home for them. Since prison can't hold them."

And here he was, worried, so he went to check on you. Lloyd was amazed that you are not affected knowing your half relatives were tortured.

He shook his head with disbelief. "You're one in a billion Y/N."

"That's right."

Few days later,

After the fiasco with your aunt and uncles, you had a peaceful day. You finally could go back to your own home.

But Lloyd told you to buy a house together to make it more believable that both of you are husband and wife.

You agreed since your old home is the most valuable thing because of the memories you had with your parents.

Everything is going well. You also felt more comfortable with Lloyd.

Lloyd went to the company with you. Because of the contract, he needs to follow you everywhere you go.

He is okay with it since he was curious about your work.

But you hoped he would just stay at home or something like that. Because he won't stop whining.

"Honey, I'm bored." Lloyd rests his body on the chair inside your office.

You didn't bother to look at him because you were busy signing some documents.

"I'll be done in a minute. After this we have to visit construction sites."

"Urrgh." Lloyd rolled his eyes and continued playing with his phone.

You chuckled, seeing him being childish. Office life doesn't suit him.

"You are very welcome to help me."

He shook his head. "Do you have other relatives you want me to kill?"

"No."

He sighed, "I need more action, I don't want to be a house husband."

"Lloyd you are not,-"

"Y/N!!!"

Suddenly a man barged into your office and hugged you. Lloyd immediately stood in his position and held his gun.

But what he saw was the mystery guest hugging you.

"Excuse me wife, are you cheating on me?"

"What?! No…"

You were confused like him. Lloyd pushed the uninvited guest away, making the person fall to the ground. He pulled you close to his side.

After you take a breath, you finally recognise who it is. Blonde, tall, with broad shoulders, has cute dimples every time he smiles and is the man who broke your heart.

You cleared your throat "Lloyd, let me introduce you. Ethan… my ex-fiance."

Lloyd wasn't surprised anymore. He whispered in your ear, "Should I kill him?"

Author note: Finally, our reader is free from her family. But what happened next? See you in part 4. 😘💕

Tell me if you want to be tagged for this series and the next part. Also, if you have any ideas like fluff or spicy for the next part. I will welcome any ideas. It will be such a tremendous help to me.

Taglist : @jasminxts @alchemxx @imsolatetothegame @thorinmistress @bree-lyrie @another-tblr-fangirl @buckysteveloki-me @motivation-idontknowher @cherrybubblebullet @supraveng @avery-1999 @evansce1 @ridingthehotmessexpress @hoely-maria @katymae12344 @g-c-e @rookiemartin @my-regrets @chibijusstuff @openup-yourmind @ara-theo @rebeccapineapple

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