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#paris always is good idea
shortmexicangirl · 7 months
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i am not making a third option u have to choose between badrien making angsty playlists for emonette or toxigriffe aggressively making out everywhere.
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nicole-paints · 2 months
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La Vie En Rose
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wangxianficrecs · 1 year
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Paris is Always a Good Idea by Witch_Nova221
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Paris is Always a Good Idea
by Witch_Nova221
G, 4k, wangxian
Summary: Wei Ying longs for the day when Lan Zhan can finally show the clothes he designs on the great runways of the world. When the opportunity comes though, fate leaves Wei Ying the last to know, and he fears that Paris will be the end of his own dreams.
Kay's comments: Cute little modern AU featuring fashion designer Lan Zhan and model Wei Ying! I really loved their relationship in this and how earnestly Wei Ying is trying to make sure everyone around them knows how serious their relationship is, which he's doing in response to Lan Qiren and Yu Ziyuan making disparaging comments. The angst in this hit really well too and it was a very believeable misunderstanding, which made the conclusion work out really well!
Excerpt: 'Lan Zhan, you've never picked the wrong material in your life,' said Wei Ying, moving on instinct at the slightest touch of his hands, turning this way and that to let him better examine the fit, 'You won't offend me if you want to try someone else.' The look his words were met with were enough to silence him whilst bringing a small, self-satisfied smile to his face. It lasted only a moment though before the hands turning him became surer, manoeuvring him as though he was only a dumb mannequin and tugging at the fabric. With a slim flash of silver, Lan Zhan pulled a pin from the cushion attached to his wrist before he drove it into the material, a neat ruche set beside the collar and making the entire garment hang better on Wei Ying's frame. 'I only design for Wei Ying.'
modern setting, romance, established relationship, fashion & models, fashion designer lan wangji, model wei wuxian, hopeful, happy ending, mild hurt/comfort, @witchnova221
~*~
(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)
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2hoothoots · 2 years
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13 Misery Way sat in a dead-end cul-de-sac on the outskirts of a sleepy little town called Dreadford. Raz rapped sharply on the neat red door with his knuckles, and then stooped to peer not-so-subtly through the window as Dogen fidgeted with the cuff of his sleeve and watched a line of ants troop up the brickwork.
"You think she's in?"
"Mm," Dogen said. "Dunno. Maybe."
Raz pursed his lips. He spent another moment watching through the window, neck outstretched like a heron watching for fish. Then he raised his fist to knock again.
He didn’t get the chance. The chain jingled, and then the door swung open about a foot to reveal the home's inhabitant. She looked Raz up and down, and the sliver of her face that was visible from the outside (a vertical slice, from one ear to about one-third of her nose) crinkled into an expression of distaste.
"Oh," Elka said. "It's you."
i did get it up tonight after all! here is the fic i was alluding to in the last ask lol. as always it’s very satisfying to just write something short over a couple of hours and put a neat little bow on it
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cithaerons · 2 years
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do you ever meet someone’s (your own) parent (as an adult) and go oh that explains so much
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pinkabrinka · 2 years
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The chairs in the Tuileries* seemed to have personalities, both individually and in the groupings.
*I think this was taken in the Tuileries, but I could be off a kilometer or so in old Paris. Photographed during my 2015 trip.
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kneehighcargoshorts · 5 months
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wrote a sabrina 1995 fic featuring louis the photographer, if anyone is interested
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cystali · 6 months
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this week has been a little dead inside! it's partly daylight savings still, but some of it is random. it makes it hard to write what I wanted to this month.
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evilminji · 3 months
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"DO BETTER!" Says Now Televised Fanboy
He, Dash Baxter is a Phan-Stan!! It's kinda his thing. See, he's a fancy ass talk show host now. Married Paulie, moved out of Amity, actually DID something with his life. His parents? Did not approve. Long n short of it? He got kicked out.
Paulie's parents were PISSED.
Retaliated by giving him all the help he needed getting EVERY scholarship he qualified for. He went to a really nice college. Missed his girlfriend like mad. But she was off in Metropolis, terrifying weaker men. Conquering the fashion scene.
And SOMEHOW? Thanks to that long talk he had with Phantom (*incoherent fanboy gibbering noises* SO COOL!) he's worked to be... more of a LEADER, you know? Less of an asshole. Cause he's popular. People copy him. He can't be an asshole.
So, somehow, when he's punching out some try-hard that thinks he's hot shit for bullying a Nerd? He and the nerd get talking, right? Cause the guy got his glasses completely fucked up. And it's what Phantom would do.
But GET THIS? Guy's never HEARD of Phantom! Is super curious, cause he runs a small time Hero's show on the web. And, Dude? Is it your LUCKY DAY! Cause you just met THE number 1 fan of Phantom, hands down!! He makes his VERY spirited case, about why Phantom is THE best Hero to ever have lived. And this guy?
Entranced.
In AWE.
Just straight up BEGS him to join his show. Cause apparently? He was BORN for it. Which? Yeah. He HAS been giving speechs to the team for YEARS now. And Talking at fan meet ups. Leading fan meet ups. Hosting parties... actually, now that he thinks about it? He DOES do a lot of public speaking? Huh.
But still, he's about to say "no", when?
Dude mentions? He'll get to talk about Phantom.
SOLD!
It. Blows. Up. Absolutely EVERYONE is in love with his pretty face, hot bod, and STRONG opinions. But they ALSO have no idea who Phantom is! Paulie! This is CRIMINAL! Horrifying! What is going ON!?
Some bullshit information black out, apparently. At least according to her... friendly Nemesis? The Goth Dweeb. Who's engaged, apparently? So good for her. Unsurprisingly, it's too the OTHER Dweebs, but still. Bout time she started planning to drag them to a court house. She's the only one with any spine in that group! If she waited for THEM to propose?
Not even as Ghosts, man.
They'd get distracted by shiny nerd shit and whimp out.
Still... a world where NO ONE knows how Awesome, Phantom is? Not on HIS watch!
So he works it in. To every segment. It becomes "his thing". Oh? Super man saved a kitten from a tree? Cute. Well PHANTOM saved a bus full of Ghost Puppies from a shady, rouge, Goverment agency. Do BETTER, Superman!
The Flash, who is a cheap knock-off and stole his name, took down an Ice Villian? Adorable! PHANTOM stopped a Rouge WINTER SPIRIT with the help of YETI WARRIORS then assisted in giving FREE medical care for anyone who needed it! Here's a picture of him making GHOST ICE SNOWMEN for small children! Do BETTER, Knock-off!
What's THAT you say? Wonder Woman fought a GOD in down town paris?
Excellent work Wonder Woman. Flawless as always. But YOU, god-boy, are a disappointment! All that power! And WHAT do you use it for? Are you even supposed to BE here?? PHANTOM uses his power to HELP people! Is awesome and knows TONS of better gods! You're just salty you didn't make the cut!
DO BETTER!
And obviously? No one believes him. There's no record of this "Phantom" guy. The pictures look fantastical and vaguely glitchy/glowy. Not quite right. They GOTTA be photo shopped. Manipulated somehow. But? As a shtick? A fake "perfect Superhero" is kinda funny and unique.
And it's one hell of Fake Hero!
A Dead Champion? Who fights gods and monsters? Rouge agencies? Sassy and tragic? With a mysterious past? Pretty cool! There's even an Offical Comic from some guy that went to the same high-school as Baxter!
Of course, as Baxter get more and more popular? The "meme" hero, Phantom, get more well known? People get more interested in where Dash grew up. You know, just a bored Google. Maybe see if the hero was based off a local legend or something. But... huh...
The Town website?
Weirdly? Sanitized.
Like... like aggressively sanitized. All smooth edges and no details. Very "move along, citizen". Ha ha... it's part of the joke right? They get it! They'll just look up local restaurants or som-....
Wait...
Hey, guuuuys?
Are you finding ANYTHING?
And! Nothing. And I do mean NOTHING! Triggers the "oh? Secrets???" Instincts of a Hacker, like finding a hard blank wall of "KEEP OUT". Especially when it's somewhere it rightfully shouldn't BE.
All it would take? Is ONE person, of decent skills and an account on Certain Forums, getting bored enough to Google the Dude On The TV(TM)? For the GIW's lil walls to come crashing down. Because yeah, you can stop ONE hacker. Even two. Probably five or six.
But how about thousands?
Hundreds of thousands?
From every time zone. Competing. Just to see what you HAVE and don't want them to see. Maybe they do something with it, maybe they don't. But fuck it, you're being RUDE and now they're CURIOUS. And THEN? Oh. Oh holy shit.
Not a meme.
Very real.
Not a joke.
The walls come crumbling down, down, down. Ripped apart by hundreds of hands. Emails sent to every sort of agency. The JLU line inundated with emergency tips. Not a joke. Not A Joke. Holy Shit, IT WASN'T A JOKE!
Phantom is REAL!
And there, on TV, stands the Man. The signal FINALLY breaching containment. Fighting off the invading God of the week. Built like statue, hair like an aurora borealis of white fire held almost delicately in place by a CROWN of ice, a suit made of void and starlight. Inhuman. Beyond human.
Here to help.
A laugh that crackles like ice and the snap of winter, rolls through the air like coming storms, rich and somehow warm. A smile that bares teeth, yet turns so KIND when he looks upon humanity, as though we are precious and worth fighting for. A living star.
A... a once living star.
And in the center of it all? Wearing his BESPOKE, custome made, Number 1 Phan full body outfit? That's right. Dash Baxter. Ha! You fuckers doubted him! Behold his blorbo and WEEP, ya fuckin casuals! The BESTEST of boys! The FINEST of Heros! Superman? Could NEVER.
And now? The weather!
@babbling-babull @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter @ailithnight @hypewinter @hdgnj @mutable-manifestation
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monzabee · 1 month
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partition - lh44 (+18)
masterlist ||
Summary: The one where you and Lewis are stuck in traffic in Paris, and decide to make the most of the situation.
Pairing: lewis hamilton x reader 
Word Count: 4.0k
Warnings: smut!! sex in a car, unprotected sex (because when have i written something with condoms lol), pwp, cringey ass nickname (blame beyoncé), manhandling, took me a long time to write it so it doesn’t make sense most part, minors dni!!
Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! this was a passion project for me and you have no idea how happy i am with the way it turned out. There’s only one slight issue and it is that i wanted lewis to call the reader something other than peaches, but it is in the song, therefore please if you don’t like it blame the mother, aka beyoncé. Also, i was very unsure of whether i wanted to drag it out, or leave it as it is, so any feedback is appreciated. i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee
Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 
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It took you forty five minutes to get ready – Lewis knows this because he’s been keeping time on his phone since the moment you’ve went into the bedroom side of your hotel room to get ready for the party he’s taking you to. You’ve always like to joke that he takes longer getting ready whenever the two of you have to go somewhere, but now that he is staring the timer on his phone, maybe he should use it as an evidence that you’re, in fact, wrong the next time you tease him about it. Not that he actually would do that, he is a gentleman, after all.
He’s just about to call out to you to hurry up when you beat him to it, “Baby, I need help, please!”
The nickname manages to bring the smallest of smiles to his face as he, without shouting anything back in response, gets up from his place on the couch and makes his way towards the bedroom. And that’s when his eyes land on you, in front of the full-sized mirror struggling  to zip up your dress. In just a few more steps he’s right behind you, his fingers itching to dance against the smooth skin of your back. “I thought you were going to wear the suit you brought, Peaches,” his voice comes off muffled as he presses a few kisses to the expose skin on your shoulder.
“I forgot to bring the shirt that goes with it,” your voice comes off shaky as you feel his lips drag on your skin, and you can hear his soft chuckle. Craning your neck to give him a small smile, you join in his laughter, “Zip me?” With a yielding kiss, Lewis wordlessly grabs the small zipper between his fingers, and when the moves the zipper, it makes you shriek out another laugh, “Up, Lewis, zip me up please!”
“Alright, alright,” he chuckles, pulling the zipper upward with a swift motion. The dress seamlessly hugs your figure, and he makes a show of checking you out from the mirror in front of you before meeting your eyes. “There you go, all zipped up,” Lewis announces triumphantly, ignoring your disapproving headshake, giving you a gentle pat on the back. You turn around, facing him with a grateful smile, and he can't resist leaning in for a sweet kiss. The connection between your lips is brief but warm.
“You like my dress?” You ask him and his enthusiastic nod makes your smile widen in satisfaction, “You don’t think it’s too short?”
Instead of answering your question with words, instead Lewis tsks, letting his dissatisfaction with your question known. He gently takes one of your hands in his, threading his fingers through yours and prompts you to spin around to give him a better look of your dress. He wraps his arms around your middle, his hand still firmly intertwined with yours, and presses a kiss on your shoulder right where the strap of your dress meets your skin. “Wear any dress you want, Peaches, Miles and I can handle anyone who gives you trouble for it.”
Chucking at his protective, yet playful, response, you pat his arm around your middle with your free hand, “Speaking of the devil, we should probably get going if we don’t want him to kill us both for being late.” Lewis makes a sound of contest, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he pulls you closer to himself. “Lu,” you let out a faux-exasperated sigh, “there is being late, and fashionably late, and I’m afraid we are way past the latter.
“Oh, darling,” you hear his breathy voice whisper against your skin as he places a couple of open mouthed kisses onto your exposed skin, “maybe we should stay back, hm? I can show you just how much I like your dress.” With one of his hands splayed on your stomach and his lips greeting your skin ever so often, you gasp when his lips find that one sweet spot he knows that makes your knees week. “Imagine how much fun we can have on our own, here, in our room.”
Throwing your head back to rest on his chest, a breathy chuckle falls from your lips, but you give him a stern look. “As much as I would love to stay back with you, we promised all of our friends we’ll be there.” As you rise up to your toes to give him a soft peck on the lips, you manage to break free from his arms, leaving him with a perpetual pout on his face. “When we get back, Mister Hamilton, you can do whatever you want to me.”
With your offer, the look on his face changes from a pout to a smirk. “Is that a promise, Peaches?” He raises an eyebrow.
“Oh, darling,” you emphasise the word with an exaggerated version of his accent. “It’s a fact,” you return his look with a small smirk on your own as you add, “sir.”
Needless to say, the walk down to the lobby to get into your car is full of tension between the two of you. It’s not like Lewis can’t hold himself back, because he can. He has proven under many circumstances that he can withhold sex from you if he decides to do that. The most recent incident was when he caught you lurking around the Red Bull garage during the last race you’ve attended, which ended with you quite literally having to beg him to fuck you after a week of Lewis not even touching you. The walk down to the lobby is filled with stolen touches and knowing glances, with him trying to get you to kiss him every minute, not caring whether the people around you can hear him or not.
You give him a sideway look when the receptionist tells you that your limo for the night is waiting for you. “A limo?” You raise an eyebrow, looking at him for response.
He simply shrugs a shoulder, leaning down to mumble his response into your ear, “Miles was in charge of the car,” with his fingers giving your waist a firm squeeze, he manages to earn a silent shriek from you, “I’m sure we could do with the extra space, darling.”
“Behave, Lu.” You chastise him, but the corner of your mouth upturns nonetheless and you let Lewis guide you towards the car waiting for you.
Because he is the perfect gentleman he opens your door and helps you into the limo, pressing a lingering kiss on your hand before joining you. The inside of the limo is darker than you expected, but the city lights of Paris do a good enough job of illuminating the car. The condensation on the limo’s windows has your attention and Lewis watches and you trailing your finger along the glass, tracing the line a raindrop left behind. He contemplates, for a second, whether being jealous over a raindrop for commanding your attention could be considered weird or not, but he decides that he doesn’t really care.
He places a hand on your thigh, his touch is both reassuring and possessive, but when you turn your head towards him to look at him, the way he smiles at you and his thumb caresses your knee is incredibly sweet. He is a duality in himself, Lewis is. And you enjoy the way city lights illuminate his face, his smile soft as he leans over the middle of the seat to give you a sweet peck on your lips.
“What was that for?” you ask him, giggling as you place your hand over his on your thigh. He doesn’t answer, only shrugs his shoulders and grins as he pulls away from you, instantly making you seek him out again. You’re about to comment on his suddenly playful mood, when you realise the car is slowly coming to a stop, and you let out a breath of frustration when the driver informs you that you’ve hit traffic. And traffic in Paris on a Friday night? It’s safe to say that both of you know that you are not going anywhere fast.
The overall wait is not that bad, you think. Even though the traffic is crawling at a snail’s pace, you’re more than happy to be in the car where you can be with Lewis without the overwhelming sound of EDM music and sweaty bodies pushing you around in a crowded club. The same, however, cannot be said about your boyfriend.
As time passes and you’re, still, stuck in traffic, you can see Lewis getting more and more frustrated with the situation. You try not to comment on how annoyed he looks and let him have his silent moment of irritation. You gently squeeze his hand, offering a reassuring smile. “It's alright, Lewis. We'll get there eventually.”
He lets out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “I know, I know. It's just... I hate being late.” He lets out another frustrated sigh as he gently pats the empty seat between the two of you. “Can you just come closer, please?”
“Why?” you ask, eyes narrowed down in suspicion as he somehow manages to pull you closer to himself, not that you would try to get out of the situation otherwise – with the amount of times you’ve found yourself suddenly sitting in Lewis’ lap, it’s almost as if you can’t get away from him when he’s next to you. “We can’t do anything,” you whisper in warning when you catch him giving you literal bedroom eyes.
Smirking at the anxious tone of your voice, he lets his hand wander down to your hip as he quickly manoeuvres you into his lap, despite all your warnings, and calls out to the driver loud enough for him to hear his voice, “Hey mate, can you pull up the partition, please?” You hear the sound of the partition going up as Lewis fiddles with the couple of the buttons on the door handle, and soon after you hear the faint sound of music playing in the car. He meets your eyes when you give him a funny look, silently asking him what he’s up to, but he responds with a faint smile as he rests his hand on your lower back.
Rolling your eyes at the antics of the driver sitting, literally, under you, you turn your attention back to the scenery outside the window. Going back to tracing the raindrops falling onto the glass window, you choose to focus on the outside view as best as you can, given the current position you’re in. Although you’ve warned him against it, Lewis’ hand on the lower of your back drawing circles into your skin gives you other ideas you would otherwise choose to ignore in a public setting.
“What are you up to, Lewis?” you ask, lips twitching in a need to smile as you do your best to supress it.  
He grins, his eyes gleaming with a mischievous spark as he gives you an innocent shrug of his shoulder. “Just making the most of the situation, darling.”
Letting out a resigning sigh, you try to focus back on the rain outside, but with Lewis’ hand getting bolder on your lower back and the fact that you find yourself shuffling in your seat with every subtle movement of the car makes it almost impossible to focus on anything but him. Deciding to find out just how much you can get away with, you  tilt your head back slightly, your lips hovering near his ear. “Are you trying to start a scandal, Mr. Hamilton?”
He chuckles, the vibrations from his laughter sending a delightful shiver down your spine. “I told you we'd make the most of it, didn't I?” Hid hand continues its teasing dance, eventually dipping lower and even under your dress, and you have to fight the urge to let out a moan at the feeling of his skin on yours. “We can make it into a challenge,” he offers, his voice low as he suggestively whispers on your skin, “see just how scandalous we can be in the back of a limo.”
“What if someone sees?” You mumble, biting the corner of your lip to stop yourself from smiling.
His lips graze the curve of your neck, sending another shiver down your spine. “I thought you liked being watched, Peaches.” You can feel his lips curling into a smirk and a gasp leaves your lips as his hand grabs your thigh, making you shuffle closer to him as a result. “Is that a yes?” Your eyes glance over at the closed up partition, but you nod your head nevertheless, though that doesn’t necessarily satisfy the man beside you. “Words, darling.”
“Yes, please.” The words escape your mouth and your hands slide down his body to work on the zipper of his dress pants. He gives you an amused look as you pull his zipper down, and kneel on the floor between his legs as elegantly as you can given the current situation you’re in. You hear him say your name in warning, giving you a way out, even though he was teasing you about your voyeuristic tendencies – and you might’ve considered taking it, if it weren’t for the fact that having him in your mouth is the only thing you can focus on at the moment. So, instead of pulling yourself up on Lewis’ lap and let him have his way with you, you carefully take his cock out, making sure to keep your eyes fixed on his during the whole process.
Giving him a few gentle strokes, you lean forward to lick the first few drops of precum that drips out of the head of his cock. The hiss he lets out when you take the head of his cock between your lips and suck on it gently makes you smirk, and so you swirl your tongue around the tip to get another reaction out of him. With the way his left hand grabs the door, you know Lewis is trying so hard not to just grab you by your hair and guide you the way he wants to. Humming at the taste of him, you widen your lips to fit more of him in your mouth and wrap both hands around his cock to pump the rest of his cock that you can’t fit into your mouth. As you slowly start bobbing your head up and down on his cock, the sounds leaving his mouth make you want to quicken up your pace, though you refrain from doing so. Maybe you shouldn’t be feeling so turned on by a mere sound of your boyfriend’s pleasure, but you can’t help yourself as you inadvertently rub your thigs together.
You continue the movements of your mouth, taking more of him every time you bob your head down, and Lewis gives in at some point, threading his hands through your hair and guiding you down until the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat. “Fuck, Peaches,” his low groan sends tingles down your spine, “just like that.” He looks so beautiful, you think, with his head thrown back and eyes closed.
Your hands work together with your mouth, picking up speed when you realise you have him at your mercy like this – it even makes you wetter, and you feel the wetness between your legs. Your eyes water as a sudden move from Lewis thrusting his hips causes your gag reflex to remind you both that it is there, causing you to pull back with a huff and send a glare his way. But he apologises by caressing the apple of your cheek and easing you back onto his cock.
Your power move, however, doesn’t last long, as Lewis lets out a groan, pulling your head off of him and leaning forward to lift you onto his lap. It’s not necessarily intentional when you grind yourself against his cock, causing both of you to moan simultaneously. Your head is thrown back when you feel his lips gliding on your feverish skin, and you even let out a breathy laugh when your head lulls to the side and you see the handprints he’s left in the mirror. “Lewis,” you whisper, trying to keep your voice low, suddenly very aware of the driver sitting in the front of the car, “if you don’t fuck me now, I think I might explode.”
“I got you, baby,” he murmurs, his hands on your hips lifting you up to position you over his cock. But you have other plans in mind. He lets out a breathy chuckle as you drag your lips over the skin of his neck, tracing his tattoos as you leave feverish kisses along the way. “What are you doing?” He asks, hands busying themselves to get you out of your underwear.
Nipping at his skin, which earns you Lewis squeezing your hip in warning in return, but you give him a pout as you pull back. “You didn’t let me finish you off, you impatient brute.”
“Brute?” He echoes, not able to stop himself from laughing at your choice of words, “Are you going to be a brat, hm?” He is more than happy to play along when you get into these moods, though he also knows how you can get when you don’t get something you want. So when you fix him with a glare of your own, he lets out a deep sigh as he wraps your hair around one of his hands and pull your head back to bare your neck to him. “And to think I thought you were going to be a good girl, I guess that’s my fault.”
The whine that leaves you would’ve been embarrassing if it weren’t for the fact that he has you in the in the palm of his hand. “It’s not fair,” another whine leaves you, and you attempt rolling your hips against his erection resting against you in between your legs, but before you can find a rhythm, he halts your movements by tugging on your hair again. Curling your fingers around his shirt, you huff a breath of annoyance, whining out his name. “I’ll be good,” you promise, and let out a relieved sigh when he lets go of your hair to give you more freedom to move; you thank him with a few kisses.
“I know you will.” Lewis mumbles, hands finding your underwear again, but he quickly becomes frustrated when he realises the position you’re in will make it hard for him to get you out of them. So, taking an executive decision, he decides to rip them off your body. He gives you a look when you whine at the loss of your favourite pair, and he tries to salve the situation with a promise of buying you another pair. When you feel him between your legs, without any barriers this time, he is not surprised to see your immediate reaction. Though Lewis enjoys when you take control, he is impatient as he raises your hips, despite all your protest, and positions you over his cock.
You only have a few moments to adjust when he eventually lowers you onto his cock, and the initial stretch has you gasping out his name. He gives you a few minutes to adjust before slowly starting to move your hips, each move making you take him deeper until he’s buried to the hilt in you. One of your hands is pressed to the window for support out of reflex, trying to keep still as he uses the grip he has on your hips to move you in the rhythm he wants. It matches the mood pretty well, you think, everything is rushed and the sounds of the traffic and the music playing surrounding you becomes muffled as the pleasure takes over your body. You have to physically stop yourself from screaming every time he slams you down on his cock, faster and harder each time, relentless as he watches your face contort with pleasure.
Trying your best to match his thrusts, you grind your clit on every down stroke, making him somehow go even deeper, and making you moan even louder. There is an arrogant smirk on his face that you would love to wipe off, but with the way he’s making you feel, you decide to get him away with it. Dragging your hands down his shirt, you suddenly feel offended by the fact that he is covering his chest, and decide to get him out of it. This plan would’ve worked better if it weren’t for the fact that you end up ripping the buttons rather than being gentler with it. Not that Lewis complains about it, since this is most definitely not the first time something like this has happened. Your hands work on their own as you glide them through the smooth skin, slightly damp due to the warm temperature of the car, but every contact with his skin seems to make you roll your hips faster and harder.
He has to close one of his hands over your mouth since the moans that leave you get considerably higher in volume with every waking second. His lips curl up in a smile as you silently beg him with your eyes, your movements becoming sloppier with every down stroke. “I’m going to remove my hand and help you come, but you’re going to be a good girl and keep quiet, okay?” His voice carries a warning tone, and you frantically nod, assuring him that you’ll follow his instructions.
Keeping true to his word Lewis takes away his hand, making you take a deep breath as he grabs your hips. His hold on your hips is bruising, and you’re certain you’ll have marks to remember tonight for a while – especially with the way he uses his hold to move you on his cock in a rhythm he wants to. It doesn’t take you a long time to feel the overwhelming pleasure starting to build up in your lower stomach. “Please,” you whine, nails biting into his skin as your other hand is splayed over the window for support, “I’m so close.”
“Come on,” Lewis encourages you, hands working you over his cock even faster to get you where you need to be, “give it to me, I got you.” And with him looking at you like that, using your body however he wants to? It doesn’t take long for you to feel yourself coming around him, head thrown back and lips parted in a silent scream. With a last thrust, you feel him also spill himself into you, the act being greatly intimate despite the current predicament you’re both in at that moment.
A sound of surprise leaves the back of your throat when he begins to move under you, positioning you to stand on all fours as he positions himself behind you. “Wha– What are you doing?” You ask, craning your neck to look at him with hazy eyes.
“Oh, Peaches,” he coos, one of his hands caressing your skin down your thighs and up towards your hip again, “did you think we were done? We still have a long way back to the hotel.”
“But, the club?” You find yourself asking, cheeks burning when he uses his finger to push the wetness dripping out of you back in.
“We were never going to make it to that club anyway,” Lewis drags his lips up your spine until he reaches your ear, pressing a gentle kiss to your neck before whispering, “what do you think? Should we make the most out of the way back?”
Your eyes slide towards the handprints left on the window, the Paris lights shining through the streaks both of your handprints have left behind. Maybe under different circumstances you would’ve insisted you go to the club to meet with your friends. But at that moment? You instinctively push your hips back onto his, and feel his smile on your skin as he runs his hands through your body, ready for another round simply because you two can’t keep away from each other.
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verstappen-cult · 1 month
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LOVE STORY, M. VERSTAPPEN.
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PAIRING. max verstappen x female reader.
SUMMARY — Going out on dates with Max means taking a lot of pictures to share them on Instagram. Max has never complained, in fact, he's more than happy to show the world just how much he enjoys every single one of those dates.
GWEN'S RADIO MESSAGE. requested by @amoosarte "reader and max go out a ton dates during winter break, with max posing awkwardly while reader is taking picture every second if they go on a date, so max switched it around and take a bunch of photos of her and it's just so adorable and he's so whipped?" i had so much fun looking for max and his gf's pictures because he's literally the 🧍‍♂️emoji in every single one of their pics. so sorry it took me so long to answer this, i hope you like it!
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yourusername
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Liked by maxverstappen1, gigihadid and 989,562 others
yourusername Hello, Paris! Winter break has started and what a better way to celebrate than with a first date in the city of love with this handsome man. 💋​🤍​
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user01 relationship goals
user02 forever grateful with for giving us max content
landonorris thanks for not taking your child with you.
yourusername what don't you understand about romantic holiday? we don't want u here ⤷ landonorris wait did you hear that? it was my heart breaking. completely shattered. 😞​ maxverstappen1 you're welcome! 😁​👊​ ⤷ landonorris i always knew you never wanted me
user03 the pov girlies of tiktok are gonna have a feast
user04 MY PARENTS
francisca.cgomes come and visit, i miss you!
yourusername just let me get rid of max first and i'll come to you, baby maxverstappen1 stop trying to steal my gf from me ⤷ francisca.cgomes she wants me
user05 the second pic is so pinterest coded
user06 max not wearing red bull merch? am i dreaming?
user07 the girlfriend effect is real
maxverstappen1 everyone needs to know that we walked around paris for hours trying to find that coffee place you wanted to try. i feet still hurt!
yourusername you love me ⤷ maxverstappen1 shut up
yourusername
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Liked by maxverstappen1 and 771,628 others
yourusername Everything's better if I'm with you.
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user08 omg im gonna cry they look so cute
user09 THE WAY HE LOOKS AT HER
user10 sleeping on the highway sounds like a good idea
danielricciardo disgusting
yourusername you're just jealous
charles_leclerc went on holiday without me? :(
landonorris they left me too ⤷ yourusername OH SHUT UP ⤷ landonorris NEVER.
maxverstappen1 you can join us in st. tropez ⤷ landonorris can i join too? danielricciardo already packing pierregasly count me in oscarpiastri @/danielricciardo pick me up maxverstappen1 I WAS TALKING TO CHARLES
user11 sick and tired of not having my own max verstappen
user12 obsessed with max "heart eyes" verstappen
user13 HE LOVES HER SM
yourusername
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yourusername We had a reservation at a fancy restaurant today but instead of dressing up, we chose to stay home and build a flower bouquet out of Legos. 🥺​🤍
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user14 they 😭​ stayed home 😭​ instead
georgerussell63 donuts are not on his diet.
maxverstappen1 SHUT UP GEORGE yourusername it's winter break ge, he's allowed ⤷ maxverstappen1 yeah baby defend me
user15 why is no one talking about MAX'S CHEST ON DISPLAY?????
user16 oh she knows what she's doing ⤷ yourusername no idea what you're talking about. 🤭​
user17 i am BEGGING you to stop i'm too single for this
user18 MY OH MY
user19 yn's comment section always delivers
user20 happy for them and not at all jealous
yourusername
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yourusername 🖤​🖤​🖤​
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user21 kill me now please i can't leave knowing i'll never find someone who loves me as much as max loves y/n
user22 THE WAY HE'S GRABBING HER LEG?
user23 MR. VERSTAPPEN WHAT ARE YOU DOING
alex_albon where did you two go
yourusername you've reached y/n's voicemail please speak after after the tone
oscarpiastri please remember i'm sharing a wall with you
charles_leclerc good luck mate yukitsunoda0511 i have earplugs if you need some ⤷ maxverstappen1 WTF YUKI
user24 WHAT IS GOING ON AAAA
user25 i can't keep lying to myself. i want a relationship like the one max and y/n have like you can clearly see how much they love each other
user26 OBSESSED WITH THIS DATE SAGA PLS DON'T STOP
maxverstappen1
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maxverstappen1 I just couldn't leave you without showing you my POV.
View all 998,2748 comments
user27 OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MYD SJDJHSDJKN
user28 all men should be like max verstappen
yourusername i didn't even notice you taking half of these. words cannot express how much i love you.
user29 "my pov" MY PARENTS
landonorris you actually made her look pretty
yourusername i'll cut the brakes of your car ⤷ landonorris THIS IS ATTEMPTED MURDER
user30 they're so adorable its disgusting
user31 i'm 100% sure their friends are so sick of them
charles_leclerc yes pierregasly you're right landonorris i throw up every time i see them georgerussell63 finally someone understands
user32 STOP THIS MADNESS
user33 oh she has him wrapped around her finger
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© verstappen-cult, 2024. — do not repost plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.
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yoyokalicent · 4 months
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soon you will be mine, oh, but i want you now.
pairing: felix catton x fem!reader
summary: you're felix's favorite girl, you had been since you were young. what happens when you're all he needs?
warnings: cursing, mentions of fucking and alcohol, felix is a freak and in love with his best friend.
a/n: this little fic is based off fallingforyou by the 1975 bc its arguably one of their most heartbreakingly good songs so!! (lyrics in bold)
。°✩⋆。°。°✩⋆。°。°✩⋆。°。°✩⋆。°。°✩⋆。°。°✩⋆。°。°✩⋆。°。°✩⋆。°。°✩⋆。°。°✩⋆
i'm so excited for the night all we need's my bike and your enormous house
the strobe lights were almost blinding as you search the large house for felix. felix, who all but got on his knees to beg you to accompany him to the house party you now wander around aimlessly.
"princess!" you barely hear felix over the booming sound of music being pumped through every speaker in the house, "lost you for a minute there, you ok?"
his hand finds yours immediately walking with you toward the sliding glass doors, "just need some air, fi."
"me too, i'll go with you." i'll go anywhere with you, he means.
his hand leaves yours and felix can't help the bout of disappointment he feels in the pit of his stomach, wishing he could hold your hand just a little longer.
felix watches you intently as you open the door with the hand that not long ago was occupied his own, and once the door is open enough for you to exit your hand slots right into his own.
"do you have a cig?" what a stupid question, you see he has a full pack in his back pocket, you don't know is that he wants to share one with you, to see the red smudges of your lipstick around the end of it before he takes a drag of his own.
"f'course." you rake your hands through your black handbag, the handbag he purchased for you while his family was on holiday in paris. once you pull out your worn pack of cigarettes you follow up with your light pink lighter, "hm?"
it was your signal for him to light it for you, he takes the lighter out of your hands and cups a hand around your lips, lighting the cigarette for you. maybe its the drinks, the cups of liquor you had poured for him making his head spin, or maybe it was you, the thought of you being his one day. just one day, but he wants you now.
after your long drag you pass the cigarette to him, blowing out the smoke and looking out toward the backyard where friends were dancing, and lovers were making out in the dark corner by the trees.
"i've always loved nights like this, its so easy." you say, reaching your hand back out for the cigarette.
"me too, fun." he responds, as you flick the ends of the cigarette and watch the ashes fall onto the concrete, "always have fun with you, princess."
the nickname fell from his lips easily, something he had called you since you were a princess on halloween in grade school, never failing to pick on you for it.
"wanna get out of here?" felix asks looking for your confirmation, just wanting to be alone with you, not having to deal with farleigh's knowing glare.
"i do, fi. walk me back?" another stupid question, but this time coming from you, "or am i staying with you?"
"you'll stay with me, princess."
i'm caught on your coat again you said, "oh no, it's fine"
the weather in oxford was completely contradictory to felix's mood. the grey sky with icy winds had no comparison for the light reflecting from his smile. he was sat in some dingy diner (somewhere that only you could get him to step foot into) waiting for the check with you beside him.
he completely rejected your idea of sitting across from him, arguing that, "i haven't seen you in ages, why would i want you to be anywhere but my side?"
your lips were wrapped around the straw of the strawberry milkshake you swore you needed, shamefully felix can't help but think about your lips. the way they break into a smile, the way they sing your favorite songs, the way they'd look wrapped around him.
you're his best friend for goodness sake.
"fi?"
fuck the thinks, "princess."
"do you think we could go to the corner store? i wanted to get those crisps you like. i've been wanting them since the other night." you ask him with hesitation, as if he has ever denied you anything, as if he ever could.
"yep," felix pops his p, mirroring something you had always done, "quite a walk, sure you want to in the cold?"
you take one last sip of your milkshake before responding, "i've got you to keep me warm, don't think that's enough?" he wraps his arm around you to pull you closer to him.
his silence is telling, for as long as you had known him he was never one for comfortable silence. but, with you he could sit for hours without talking, just to be with you.
once the check is payed, by felix, you are bouncing out of your seat, forgetting the jacket that was resting by the end of your back.
"forgetting something?" he holds the jacket up, opening it for your arms to slip into effortlessly.
before your hands have the chance to zip up your jacket his are working at the zipper, toward the middle of the jacket the zipper stops.
"huh?" he says, trying to find where it went wrong.
his mind is racing as he tries to find the flaw in your jacket, when he finds the culprit it almost warms his heart. the fringes of his own jacket were caught in the teeth of your own. a piece of himself was caught in a piece of you.
"sorry bout that, princess."
"oh, no s'fine." without hesitation he zips your jacket all of the way, not wanting to risk you catching a cold. going as far as to giving you his own scarf and putting your hood up for you.
"and what would i do without you?" you ask, hooking your arm in his own and resting your cheek on his bicep as you walk down the street.
"freeze, and possibly have to buy your own food."
feeling of your arms i don't want to be your friend, i want to kiss your neck
felix loved the feeling of your bed. the soft linens your mother had sent from southern italy, the fluffy blankets, firm pillows, the feeling of your arms wrapped around his waist with your head lodged between his shoulder blades.
he loved it, right now, he longed for it.
farleigh was next to him talking to some guy at the pub and all he could think about is what you were doing. felix truly tried his hardest to get you to go with them to the pub, but you swore up and down tonight was your night for rest and relaxation.
stupidly, so stupidly, felix thought he would have more fun at the pub entertaining girls he'd never go home with instead of entertaining you.
"wanna get out of here?" a girl asks, pawing at his chest. all he can do his feign disgust, why would he want to leave with anyone but you?
"no," he responds, and sees the look on her face drop, "thanks" his words are slurred and all he can do is think to count the drinks he's had. the liquor really has affected him, usually he has you mooching off of whatever he has in his cup.
but, not tonight.
"farleigh, i need to go." felix pats farleigh on the shoulder, signaling his leave of absence.
"tell princess i said hi." farleigh responds, mocking his nickname for you, and felix can only open and close his mouth with a nod. felix starts his walk out of the bar with a slight wave to farleigh.
the walk to your dorm was quick, and his legs moved in a brisk walk, quickly starting to border a jog. wanting to get to you, get into your shower, get into your bed as quick as possible.
he dodges groups of partygoers and their judgmental glares skillfully, if they knew what he was running to he's sure they wouldn't be looking at him the way they were.
he arrives at your dormitory and ditches the stuffy elevator that would take too long, he doesn't have time for waiting. his legs move up the stairs, slower this time. almost savoring in the excitement of seeing you.
the many cups have him thinking, what if he told you now? he waits in front of your door, waiting. not knocking, just thinking. thinking about happy he could make you. thinking about what he could do for you, what you could do for him.
just before his mind could catch up with his movements he's knocking on the door. reeling in what he could say to you, and then you open the door.
your hair is in your rollers, and your body is drowning in your light yellow nightgown. ignoring all signs of sleepiness you smile, "felix?"
"i do not want to be your mate." your smile immediately drops, and your eyes open wide, suddenly he wants to jump down the flight of steps he had just climbed.
"what the fuck, felix?"
"no, no, no, princess, not like that." his large hands take your face into them, so tightly that your cheeks are smushed together, not to hurt you, never to hurt you.
"then how felix? you come to me in the middle of night to tell me what?" your words are slurred to the grip he has on his face.
you can smell the whiskey radiating off of him, making this all the more confusing, his hands fall from your face to his sides, "i don't want to be your friend." he takes breath, a deep breath, "i wanna kiss your neck"
"huh?" you ask again, slowly getting at what he means, but needing him to say it. say what you had been thinking for the last year.
"there was a girl at the bar, and she wasn't ugly. at all. she wanted to go home with me-"
you cut him off, "felix."
"sorry. but, i didn't want to go with her, all i thought about was you. coming home to you, maybe even kissing you, hugging you, fucking yo-"
you cut him off again, "felix."
"i just-"
"you what, felix?"
"i really love you. i love you so much i only think of you, i only think about you so much i can't hear a song without thinking about you. i love you so much i've started to lose my mind! i love you so much, princess." his lips smash into yours, and you taste him. the whiskey, the mint lip balm, the cigarettes, you taste him.
you kiss him until his hands start to trail toward the end of your night gown, "can't give the neighbors a free show, fi."
"can't have them seeing what's mine."
your eyebrows raise teasingly, "yours?"
"you're mine princess, finally."
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zodoods · 4 months
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sabotage chapter 1 part 1 (tell me your thoughts!
masterlist | next
transcript under the cut for clarity
Ladybug and Chat Noir: Pound it!
LB: 10 minutes. I think thats a new record!
CN: All thanks to the AMAZING ladybug.
LB: I couldn't do it without my partner, though!
CN: Speaking of partners...do you remember how you told your best friend that you're ladybug?
LB: You know at first I said it was really risky but it's really helped me out. You can tell someone too, remember? I assumed you already did.
CN: I never did, actually. I always thought the person I fell in love with would know. BUT my civilian identity is hard to date. So I haven't really met anyone who's fully stuck--which is why I had a BRILLIANT idea. I'll date people as my HERO persona.
LB: Wait, wait, wait. What do you mean your civilian identity is "hard to date"? Aren't you a total casanova?
CN: I think you mean...cat-sanova. Heh.
LB: oh my god.
CN: I guess you could say I'm sooort of in the public eye?
LB: Like...famous?
CN: Well...
LB: Chat. On a scale of one to ten, 1 being some averaje joe and ten being darling of Paris, Adrien Agreste.
CN: [nervously] Uh...seven?
LB: Oh, so pretty famous, huh. Well, I trust you, minou. Just don;t do anything stupid and make me look bad. Anyways, it's kind of a good idea.
CN: Really?
LB: Yeah.
Later, at home.
Marinette: Alya. Chat just had the WORST idea I've ever heard. And GUESS WHAT--
OKAY BYE HOPE U ENJOYED :D
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ladyofthenoodle · 6 months
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fic idea from 2020 that the paris special unearthed from the archives of my brain:
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So far, there wasn’t a single thing about this new reality that wasn’t terrible. She was grounded, for some reason, which she didn’t know about, and was therefore double grounded for breaking the rules of the grounding. Which she hadn’t known about!
To make matters worse, when she’d gone to text Alya to complain about the unfairness of it all, she realized she didn’t have Alya’s number. In fact, she didn’t have anyone’s number except her parents, Nadja Chamack, her grandmother, and someone called The Supreme.
She next turned to Tikki to vent, but when she checked her (admittedly cool) purse, she found her kwami wide-eyed, terrified, and most horrifiyingly, muzzled—which Marinette couldn’t figure out a way to undo. 
So she was stuck in the bakery on a Saturday morning with angry parents and no one to talk to and no ideas on how to get out of the worst version of Paris possible.
Which is when Adrien Agreste’s bodyguard walked in. Brief hope flared in her heart before extinguishing just as quickly when she saw he was alone.
Which she should’ve expected. With how awful this world was, she wouldn’t be surprised if Adrien didn’t even exist here. She couldn’t imagine a world this awful with him in it.
She bagged up the Gorilla’s order with a heavy heart and sent him on his way before looking out the bakery display window with a sigh.
Only to spot Adrien Agreste himself, with an asymmetrical haircut and thick kohl around his eyes, staring back at her. He was different than her Adrien—and she couldn’t say she was a fan of the hair—but he was just as handsome, and his eyes even more striking with the eyeliner.
When he noticed her looking, his eyes widened and his cheeks started to turn pink.
Was he blushing?
Marinette could feel her own cheeks heating up as he stared. She ventured a small, embarrassed wave, and he—he!—
He lifted his own hand, brought it to his lips, and blew her a kiss.
Crash!
Marinette, along with about 300 macarons, toppled to the floor.
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“Good morning, Marinette!” said Adrien Agreste, during a time that was decidedly morning but far too early to be described as ‘good.’ 
She scowled at him.
“Girl, you okay?” said Alya Césaire, who was—who was speaking to her.
Right.
Alya Césaire was speaking to her. Because Alya Césaire, Hesperia’s favorite lackey, was apparently Marinette’s best friend.
And Adrien Agreste was the boy Marinette was in love with.
She plastered a smile on her face. “I’m great, Alya! Super dee duper. Absolutely swell. What a beautiful morning with all the sunshine and the…. morning.”
Alya looked unconvinced.
“And the Adriens!” Marinette added hastily. “I mean, the Adrien. Because there’s only one Adrien and he sure is… here. Hello Adrien! Your face is looking very attractive this morning, because you are an attractive person. And that’s… something positive I can say about you.”
“Thanks, Marinette!” said Adrien with a dopey little smile. She wasn’t sure if he was mocking her or just deeply stupid. If her diary entries were to be believed, it was probably the latter. “Your face is looking attractive this morning as well. Did you do something new with your makeup?”
Marinette had done her makeup the same way she did every day, but she supposed his Marinette opted for a boring girl next door ‘no makeup makeup’ look.
Alya squealed next to her before giving her shoulder an excited squeeze.
Marinette took several deep breaths.
“Yes, I thought I’d try something new.”
Adrien smiled and nodded.
Alya shoved her forward.
Marinette barely managed to restrain herself from sending Alya a patented Toxinelle Death Glare. Instead, she smiled wider at Adrien.
Her cheeks hurt.
“Thank you soooooo much for noticing my makeup. That is a thing I am excited about. I love putting on makeup to impress cute boys, tee hee!”
Adrien’s face fell. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply—I know you always dress for you, Marinette! That’s something I really admire about you.”
His eyes were so earnest, so sincere, and for a second, she almost—
Marinette cleared her throat. “That’s so nice! You can leave now.”
Adrien blinked. 
“Bye!” She shooed him.
“Oh, um, bye Marinette,” he said with a sheepish wave, and then he left.
Nailed it.
“Girl, what the actual fuck?”
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norrisleclercf1 · 18 days
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Idk if youre open for requests but ignore this if you are sweets!
James Vowles fic where his wife is a famous super model and its her first time on the paddock and everyone is like, youre married to him??? Im down bad im sorry😔
A/N: He's out of his timeout.....for the time being also reader is Adriana Lima type famous for models, also major girl crush on her, damn
"I'm sorry, you're who?" The guard gawks as you smile back, you were used to this but honestly a little irked he thought you were far to good for your husband.
"I'm Y/n Vowles, James Vowles wife." The guard makes a noise of disagreement and shakes his head. "Okay, um sure," He lets you through and you wave as you walk through the paddock. Stopping to let fans take pictures but some just stare in shock.
Of course you get stopped by reporters and answer there questions. "So, why are you here Y/n, we had no idea you're a fan of F1?" The reporter asks you just keep your smile on your face. "My husband James Vowles is the team principle for Williams." You smile, loving when you get to gush about him.
"Seriously?" The reporter quickly covers their mouth and tries to make up for what they said but you just give them a tight lip smile and tell them to enjoy the race and walk off. Williams comes into view and you get giddy as you've been busy in Paris for Paris Fashion Week and James with traveling the world.
Walking in, people obviously stare, but you ignore them and make your way to your husband's office smiling. "Knock knock, is there a Mr. James-" You get cut off as James moves quick and pulls you into a hug and closes the door. Giggling you hug him back and take a deep breath of his cologne and relax, feeling at home.
"Did you have trouble getting in?" He pulls back, kissing you gently and you shake your head yes. "I'm world famous, so of course I had trouble, but no one would believe me that I was married to you, kept saying you shot out of your league," You pout, having always hated when people said this.
Because too you, you're the one who traded up. You found this wonderful, smart, loving, man who loved spoiling you and didn't treat you differently because of your job. Some guys don't like it when you model different clothes, or had built your career off of wearing lingerie.
If anything James loved it, and not in a weird way, in way that made you proud and not self-conscious, he made you feel powerful and loved when he got to see you walk the runway, he's your biggest supporter.
"Well it's-" No it's not," You stop him, making James chuckle and nod his head pulling you back into a hug. "It's not true, if anything, I'm the one that traded up." You whisper, James smiles kissing your forehead.
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art · 3 months
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Creator Spotlight: @jijidraws
Jiji Knight is a latina pinup illustrator. Her work is overall geared toward thick ladies and dedicated to fat positivity out of a purely selfish need to create art she wished she had seen growing up. She often features sexy and soft macabre themes on vibrant or sweet colours and takes great joy in making folx feel good about themselves with her work. She holds a Bachelor of Fine Arts in Illustration and operates out of her very sunny hometown of Las Vegas.
Check out our interview with Jiji below!
Have you ever had an art block? If so, how did you overcome it?
Oh my gosh… I have art blocks all the time. My favorite way of overcoming it is by making fanart. Funnily enough, that’s something I don’t do in my own work anymore. But there are still IPs I return to that still bring joy to my heart. I love returning to drawing Sailor Moon like when I was in first grade. Or I’ll even look up the last fashion week and start drawing the fashion week outfits from the Paris or New York show. Stuff like that is what gets my creative juices flowing.
What medium have you always been intrigued by but would never use yourself?
Resin. Resin art is so stunning. People make the most amazing and beautiful sculptures using resin, and I don’t think I could ever bring myself to play with something so complicated. There are a lot of ways to cure it, and sometimes, it doesn’t cure properly…I already work with enough chaos as it is! I respect resin artists, but I don’t think I would ever touch it. I’ve admired it from a distance. There is an artist I follow who does these resin layer paintings. So they’ll paint a layer of resin, then cure it, and paint on top of the cured layer. They build up these amazing paintings using resin…I could never. Maybe one day!
What is one interaction you had with a fan of yours that has stuck with you over the years?
I still remember…It was my first and only Flame Con in New York. I had a fan come up to my booth. They didn’t say hello or that it was nice to meet me. They started to cry! They cried, and the first words out of their mouth were, “I’ve never seen myself in artwork before.” So, of course, I started to cry! So we were just crying across the table at each other. It was just one of the sweetest interactions, and it really sticks with me still to this day.
What is a recent creative project that you are proud of?
My latest collaboration with the artist Missupacey. We’ve been collaborating for two years now, and our last collaboration was for Midsummer Scream. It was two very cute clown girls, and I designed our T-shirt. It was one of the most fun projects we’ve done in a long time. We love doing collaborative work because it keeps working in the art industry fresh—being able to bounce ideas back and forth. So we do it where someone picks the color palette, and someone picks a theme. We’ll get references together, put them on a big board, and send each other sketches. It’s really nice to work with somebody else.
How has technology changed the way you approach your work?
Honestly, it changed everything. I mean, I used to draw for myself a lot. And while I still do that, I now predominantly draw for my Patrons. For a while, I was drawing for the internet. So I was drawing stuff people wanted to see in terms of plus-sized versions of characters—a plus-sized Poison Ivy or a plus-sized Sailor Moon. My Patrons have allowed me to start drawing for myself again. But technology, for a while, essentially dominated what direction I was taking with my art, so I’m grateful to take some of that power back.
If there is one thing that you want art enthusiasts to remember you by, what would it be?
Body positivity. I would love for them to remember that there is an artist making work that is making people feel good about themselves and about the way they look at themselves.
Top tips on setting up an Artist Alley booth?
Have a method of taking money, have a method of displaying your work, and have a way to take a break. I have a plastic picnic cover that costs like a dollar at any store. All I have to do is clip it to my display grates, and it covers up my entire display. I feel secure enough to take time for myself in a 10-hour workday to eat something, go to the restroom, or even take a moment to breathe and reorganize my inventory. So it’s so funny that this one-dollar piece of plastic is like the most life-saving item in my display of items.
Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?
@mayakern comes to mind. She is another body-positive artist who expanded into making body-positive clothing. She’s amazing, and just to see someone else out there promoting body positivity. Maya’s been doing it longer than I have, I believe. It feels good to know that I’m not alone. Her work is always stunning, and I love her body-positive DnD characters and the fact that she’s still plowing through the clothing industry. For example, she’s expanded from skirts to button-downs and even custom-wrap shirts. I love to see what she’s doing, and it inspires me to pursue different avenues with my own work.
Thank you so much for stopping by and sharing, Jiji! Be sure to check out their Tumblr blog over at @jijidraws.
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