#Large event venues London | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gloomwitchwrites · 2 months

Note

The 141 boys and the TikTok trend “everybody knows that I’m a good girl officer”

Firstly, I want to say that in this house, we say "fuck the police (derogatory)" every single day. However, I will indulge in this instance because it's our 141 boys and I think the trend with them would be absolutely smoldering. But I will change it up slightly, and pull from my Bodyguard!141 AU Post as well as lean into a security detail aspect for this one.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, suggestive themes, dirty thoughts, flirting, secret relationship

Word Count: 1.5k

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

Price adjusts the ear piece in his right ear.

The blasted thing doesn’t fit right. It keeps slipping. It’s irritating but it’s manageable. Not like Price is running anywhere. At least, he doesn’t plan on moving too quickly. His job is to stand and observe. To make look after a certain MP’s daughter, and to take her back to the hotel when she tells you she’s ready to leave.

You are no stranger. Far from it.

And it goes far beyond the grounds of appropriate behavior.

Price has completely stuck his foot in it, bedding you when he isn’t supposed to. Stealing kisses in dark corners, and fucking you behind closed doors. He was hired by your father to look after you, and instead, John has taken it much further than that.

But he doesn’t fucking regret it.

Not at all.

John adjusts his ear piece and scans the room from left to right. You’re not in sight but that doesn’t bother him. This ballroom is packed full of rich schmucks who couldn’t give a shit about him.

He scans the room again, and this time he finds you.

You’re walking toward him, hips moving in a sultry sway that steals John’s resolve. You’re gorgeous. Perfect. And he can’t stop staring.

The corner of your mouth quirks with amusement, and John straightens his shoulders, making himself appear bigger. He needs to look professional. He needs to look like he’s not thinking about all the ways he wants to fuck you.

But it’s hard to focus, and when you approach, you glance over your shoulder at him, words leaving your mouth that John doesn’t entirely catch at first. Your foot pops in the air, and the friend you’re walking with giggles, her hand pressed to her painted lips.

Everybody knows that I’m a good girl, officer.

A good girl.

Yes. You are.

You’re John’s good girl.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

High-stakes missions have always been part of Kyle’s life. It is what he knows. What he thrives on. But between the missions, Kyle keeps working, and not with SAS.

Kyle mostly signs up for security detail at different places around London. Sometimes he might work as a bouncer for a club, or be monitoring people entering a music venue. Sometimes the gigs are swanky, and sometimes they’re not. Kyle doesn’t really mind as long as he’s paid.

That’s the whole point.

He’s saving. Wants to buy a house. Maybe find someone to settle down with. Life is going by fast. He needs some stability amongst all the violence.

And tonight? Tonight, he’s nothing more than a glorified security guard.

He looks the part in all-black tactical gear, and he isn’t the only one. There is an entire group of them all lined up in front of large windows, creating a bit of barrier. The event coordinator expected protests. All there is are a handful of people across the street with signs. They’re harmless.

Kyle doesn’t pay them any mind.

He does watch the regular people walking by on his side of the road. Some people are here for the event and others are just passing through.

Standing on the corner nearby is a small group of young women. They’re all dressed up like they’re heading to the clubs. Kyle pretends he’s not looking, but that would be a lie. There is one he keeps glancing at.

You’re fucking stunning. A beauty.

But Kyle has to remain calm. Aloof. He’s not here for you or anyone except the job at hand.

“Go over there.”

“I can’t!”

“Girl. He is so cute. Do it.”

Kyle casually turns his head, only to find you striding toward him. His throat drops into his stomach, and you waltz past him, pausing just to his right, flipping your hair, and batting your eyelashes at him and then your friends.

“Everybody knows that I’m a good girl, officer.”

Your friends scream, and then you hurriedly run back to them as if you’ve done something you shouldn’t.

A good girl? Sure you are, love.

Kyle smirks and looks away, doing his best to hide a growing smile.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon sits in the driver seat of a large, black SUV. His fingers are itching for a cigarette. He needs the smoke—to feel the burn. To rid himself of some of this agitation.

It’s not annoyance. It’s not frustration. And it sure as shit isn’t anger.

No. Simon has a fucking rager in his pants, and his thoughts are filled with images of you. You—who he’s supposed to be protecting. Escorting you to and from events, pushing back the crowd, and keeping a firm lock on where you are at all times.

The black dress you’re wearing tonight is made of flimsy material. It clings to every curve and swell. Simon is hungry—a feral animal that couldn’t stop stalking you throughout the event.

Now, he’s about to take you back to your hotel. And he knows you’ll invite him in. He knows that the little black dress you wear will be nothing but a pile on the floor in due time.

But this need in his bones isn’t just Simon’s fault. You were a fucking tease all evening. You were bad. Openly flirting with other men in front of him, drinking more than you should have, and genuinely being a little terror to his sanity. All this behavior will only get you punishment. A punishment he’s happy to deal out once he has you behind a closed door.

A car door clicks, and Simon glances up, expecting to see you slide into the backseat. You’re not there. You’re next to him. In the front passenger seat.

“What the fuck are you doing?” asks Simon, his knuckles white as he grips the steering wheel.

You shrug and settle in. “Don’t know what you’re talking about,” you reply, leaning on the middle armrest.

Simon can smell your perfume. “Buckle up,” he growls, and you do so casually, as if you don’t hear his irritation.

He pulls out into traffic, and the moment the two of you are clear of the building, Simon feels your hand on his thigh moving dangerously close to his dick.

“This bad behavior needs to stop.”

Your body shifts and you sing-song the next words out of your mouth. “Everybody knows that I’m a good girl, officer.”

The words are bit slurred. You’re completely pissed, and Simon cannot help but laugh. No punishment then. Not tonight at least.

But tomorrow?

Absolutely.

John "Soap" MacTavish

This isn’t Johnny’s usual job, but it’s easy work.

Usually, hired security and local police take care of concerts and sporting events, but the military has been called in for this one, and Johnny is fine with that. Again, it’s easy work, and they’re paying him more for it.

He stands in one spot, scans the crowd, and acts casual while looking downright intimidating. The intimidation isn’t hard. They have him completely decked out in all-black tactical and balaclava included. All you can see of Johnny are his eyes.

It’s fun, actually. When he put it all on, he pretended to be Simon, only to receive a swat upside the head for it from the man himself.

Johnny has his hands casually resting on his bulletproof vest. No one is really looking at him, and those that do quickly look away. But there is one he can’t stop looking at.

You’re so damn cute, and you can’t stop glancing at him either. You’re with friends, and you keep smiling in his direction. If this were any other night, Johnny would approach you, flirt a bit, maybe even ask for your number. Might even take you home with him if you were open to it.

But Johnny is on the job, and he can’t afford to do that.

As you move closer to him through the crowd, one of your friends keeps saying something to you, moving their hands as if urging you to do something. Johnny isn’t sure what, but he’s curious. You don’t look like danger, and there is nothing about your demeanor that says that you’re looking to cause trouble.

Maybe it’s the balaclava. That seems to be a thing now.

As you approach, there is a pop of your foot, a quick flip of your hair, and a stunning smile. Your friend holds up her phone and you turn away from Johnny briefly to say “Everybody knows that I’m a good girl, officer.”

I bet you fucking are, love.

Your friends giggle with pleasure, and you quickly move away from him but not before you glance over your shoulder one last time, mouthing a silent “thank you.”

taglist:

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@enarien @saoirse06 @ferns-fics @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett

@ravenpoe67 @tulipsun-flower @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat @ninman82

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@haven-1307 @voids-universe @itsberrydreemurstuff @spicyspicyliving @keiva1000

@littlemisscriesherselftosleep @statixx-x @umno-yeah @blackhawkfanatic @talooolaaloolla

@sadlonelybagel @kadeeesworld @iloveslasher @sammysinger04 @dakotakazansky

@suhmie @jaggersinclair @jackrabbitem @lxblm @beebeechaos

@no-oneelsebutnsu @kidd3ath @certainlygay @thewulf @lovely-ateez

@arrozyfrijoles23 @gingergirl06 @eternallyvenus @smileykiddie08 @vrb8im

642 notes · View notes

leah-lover · 5 months

Text

Crossover. Leah Williamson x reader.

Based off this request. Thank you.

Exiting, that's how you would describe your life as a model. Yes there were the occasional hiccups but you mostly got to do very cool stuff and hang out with cool people. Your work took you everywhere but your home base was London. You started your career there and a large number of your followers come from there too.

The thing you loved the most about your job was the parties. They allow you to meet very interesting people, pick their brain and develop interesting g friendships.

Today was no different. Nike had a pretty high budget launch party for their new show line and you were invited. These parties were a little less formal than what you were used to going to, so you decided against a suit or a dress and settled for a black strapless and backless jumpsuit, a pair of black heels and some gold accessories. Your make up was elegant and your signature red lip was at its center.

Nike as always sent you a car to your house and you headed to the location of the event on time.

Upon arriving there you said hi to some people, talked to others, took some pictures at the event with some guests and drank champagne. The night was as regular as most of most launch parties were. Suddenly you were approached by one of the managers of the event.

“ Hey, so I wanted to introduce you to one of the faces of this launch. Miss Leah Williamson.” he says.

“ hi, nice to meet you, Miss williamson.” you say offering her your hand.

“ Hey, just Leah please.” she answers, shaking your hand

.” a fellow Brit I see. I haven't seen many of those tonight.”

“ glad i was among the few.” she answers. You two talked for a little while over a small table, each one of you nursing a drink. You both were making jokes trying to get one another to laugh or at least smile. There was definitely tension in the air and you both were flirtatious with one another.

“So Leah this has been one of the best nights I have had for a while. Thank you “ you say, squeezing her hand gently.

“Yeah it was fun for me too.” she responds with a disappointed tone. “Let me walk you to your car.”

While leaving the venue you hear a photographer say “ Miss Williamson would you like a picture?”. She looks over to you and you get into your usual pose instantly. While getting ready her hand slips perfectly on the small of your back applying the right amount of pressure.

While the photographer's flash was blinding you, you looked over to Leah and she did the same to you. You stood there getting your picture taken with a hot blonde after flirting with her all night. She made you feel safe with her hand on your back which you appreciated.She then walls you too you car.

“Tonight was fun.” You say leaning on the door.

“We should do this again sometime soon.” She replies with a small smile on her face.

“House about you come to one of our games. We will play in the Emirates soon. I think it would be a good experience.” She added.

“ Maybe.” You respond before getting in your car.

This night was gonna be unforgettable.

—----------------

Fact forward a few weeks you were back in England after being in Milan, Paris, and Japan for work. Well there first two were work , the last one was for fun since the F1 Japan grand prix was one of your favorites on the race calendar. You could say that that weekend was well spent. You hung out on the Ferrari paddock and did a lot of social media work. This work backfired on you because all people were talking about the whole weekend we're done moment that happened between you and a driver. Romers never bothered you, now it was different. Leah had followed you on Instagram after the event and you worried that she would believe them. As a result you decided to go to the arsenal game she talked about. Getting tickets was a Hassle because they were all sold out. But you managed to find a seat right next to the bench, very close to the field.

You showed up to the Stadium early. You hair was down, your makeup was simple, you wore jeans, a black button down and a Jersey over it, one that says Leah Williamson on the back, and you added a few gold accessories again.

Like Leah said the atmosphere was electric. You went to the VIP section first, got some food and a drink then you headed down to your seat. Leah didn't know you were coming; you wanted it to stay a surprise.

As soon as the players appeared on the pitch the whole strain erupted into cheers and chants. Those cheers only got louder when Arsenal scored 3 goals in 20 minutes which you were told was impressive.

After the half time break some players were running up and down the field. That's when she saw you. She held eye contact with you for a long time, a wide smile planted across her face. She had a look of pride, joy, and reassurance. You smiled back at her, clapped as she came on and sang and chanted loudly.

After the game was done the players were doing a lap around the pitch and when she saw you again. Another wide smile was painted on her face. She looked happy to be there and happy that you were there too.

She was then signing autographs, taking pictures and genuinely talking to people. She grew immensely in your eyes because of her thankful and humble demeanor. She then asked for you to follow her inside the stadium which you did.

“You clean up nice. I like your shirt “ she said with a cocky expression on her face.

“Well I saw a charming young lady at an event a few weeks ago and she hadn't left my mind ever since. I missed her and I thought I would come and see her. Turns out she is the best person in the world.” You respond.

“ Well I hope this girl gets to go have dinner with you because you two sound formidable.” She added

“ Maybe.” You respond

You wait for her to get ready and get out of the locker room. When she gets out, a few girls follow her and appear to be teasing her.

“ I swear if I hear from anyone you shit heads you won't like practice anymore.” She said to them. You simply wave to them as you two walk by then to Leah's car too which she opens the door.

“ Such a gentleman.” You exclaim.

“Well I have competition. That girl you were talking about is a catch.” She joked.

Leah was fun. She made you feel at ease and safe.

This was going to be a fun adventure.

#leah williamson #leah × reader #leah williamson imagine #woso request #woso couples #woso fanfics #woso #woso imagine #woso community #woso x reader

514 notes · View notes

mariacallous · 1 month

Text

Usually held in the two weeks after the Olympic Games in the same host city, the Paralympics showcase the best athletes with physical disabilities from around the world competing for their home countries. (The Paralympics are not to be confused with the Special Olympics, which feature athletes with intellectual disabilities.) This year, the Summer Paralympics will take place from August 28 to September 8 in Paris, France.

Quick history lesson: The origins of the Paralympics began shortly after World War II, during the 1948 London Olympics, where 16 wheelchair-using veterans participated. The first official Paralympic Games took place in Rome in 1960 and featured 400 athletes from 23 countries. Since then, the Games have taken place every four years and now feature 4,400 athletes in 22 sports (the Olympics have 32), with 549 gold medals up for grabs.

There are athletes competing from 177 countries (this year’s Olympics had athletes from 184 countries), including 10 countries that have never been represented in the Paralympic Games before, along with representation from the Neutral and Refugee teams. In case you missed it, at the last Paralympics in Tokyo, China earned the most medals, with Great Britain behind it and the US in third.

Since the 1988 Summer Games and the 1992 Winter Games, the Olympic and Paralympic Games have been held in the same cities and venues. Although Paralympians still strive for equal treatment as Olympic athletes without disabilities, there is a large gap in funding between the Olympics and Paralympics.

Where to Watch

This year’s Games will make history as the first Paralympic Games to offer live coverage of every one of the 22 sports played. Like the Olympics, every event at the Paralympics will be available to stream on Peacock if you’re in the US.

If you prefer going old school and watching on basic cable, a select number of events will be airing on the NBC channels NBC, CNBC, and USA Network, along with E!, Golf Channel, and Telemundo, which offers coverage in Spanish. In an effort to make the Games more accessible, closed captioning will be available for every Paralympic event (regardless of the platform). You can also watch highlights and athlete interviews on Paralympic.org.

In the UK, Channel 4 has more than 1,300 hours of live coverage scheduled. Folks can also watch through their streaming service or Channel 4 Sport’s YouTube channel, which will show the entirety of the Games for the first time. BBC, BBC Radio 5 Live, and the BBC Sport website will also air highlights and select coverage. The Paralympics website also has a complete list of where to watch by country.

Opening Ceremony

The Opening Ceremony will begin August 28 at 8 pm Paris time, 7 pm BST, 2 pm EDT, and 11 am PDT. Similar to the Olympics opening ceremony, the Paralympics opening ceremony will be held outside of a stadium at one of the major squares in Paris, Place de la Concorde, and the iconic avenue Champs-Élysées will be transformed into the opening ceremony stage.

The competition starts the following day, on August 29, at 11 am EDT (8 am PDT). Like with the Paris Olympics, the start times will be similarly early and continue throughout the day. The specific timing of some of the events might change, so check the schedule of events on the Olympics' Paralympics schedule webpage.

Blind Football (Soccer)

Blind football is an adaptation of football (or soccer, if you’re American) for athletes with vision impairment played with an audible ball. This men’s competition starts early on September 1 and continues on September 2, 3 and 5, with the gold medal match on Saturday, September 7.

Boccia

Boccia is one of only two sports with no Olympic equivalent. It was originally created for athletes in wheelchairs who have impaired motor function or coordination. To win, each team must get the most balls closest to the white ball called the jack, with athletes allowed to make modifications according to their needs. Men’s and women’s individual games start August 29 and go through September 1, with the gold medal individual matches on September 1 and 2. Mixed pairs and teams start September 3, with gold mixed pairs and teams matches on September 5.

Goalball

The other sport of the Paralympic Games without an Olympic equivalent, goalball is a team sport for the visually impaired and blind, in which players wear special black eye-covering-type glasses so they fully can’t see and are thus more equitable (and honestly, look cool as hell). If there’s anything that the Olympic Games have taught us, it’s that the people go crazy for some out-of-the-norm eyewear. The audience needs to stay as quiet as possible because the ball has bells inside. Thus, the athletes have to rely solely on sound, while they use their whole body to try to block the ball from making it inside the goal. (Lets see Neymar try to do that.) Men’s and women’s games start August 29 with the gold medal games for both on September 5.

Para Archery

The first game played at the early iteration of the Paralympics in 1948, para archery now has men and women’s individual and mixed teams, with wheelchair or standing, and with recurve and compound bows used. Men’s and women’s individual events begin August 29 and continue through September 5, with gold medal matches in individual, teams and with different bows across multiple days.

Para Athletics

One of the most beloved sports in the Paralympics is para athletics, which has been a popular fixture in the games since the inaugural Rome Games in 1960. Today, it spans a wide range of track, jumping, and throwing events, as well as marathons. Because of the wide range of men’s and women’s events, competition begins on August 30 and happens daily with gold medal matches until the Games end on September 8. Check the full para athletics schedule for more specific events’ times.

Para Badminton

Para badminton debuted at Tokyo 2020, although it has been hugely popular for decades. Like badminton, players compete as singles and pairs, as well as standing and in wheelchairs. Group play begins on August 29, with men’s, women’s, and mixed doubles beginning August 31. Gold medal matches take place September 1 and 2.

Para Canoe

The Paralympic Canoe competition features two types of boats: the kayak and va’a (traditionally used in Oceania for travel between islands). Para canoes are basically the same as those used in the Olympic Games, but just have a wider bottom for greater stability. The races begin September 6 with gold medal games on September 7 and 8.

Para Road Cycling

Throughout the years, like many other events, Paralympic cycling has grown to adapt to many disabilities, and uses standard bicycles, handcycles, tricycles, and tandems. In road cycling, there are road races, time trials, and relay events. Both the men and women’s individual and relay events and gold medal races take place daily September 4 through 7.

Para Track Cycling

Para  track cycling is similar to road cycling but takes place on a velodrome track (as the name suggests). Competition is divided into time trials, individual, and tandem or team sprints, using standard bicycles and tandems (all of which can be adapted for the specific athlete). The various track cycling events and gold medal races take place simultaneously August 29 to September 1.

Para Equestrian

Unlike the three equestrian events at the Olympic Games, the Paralympic equestrian program only includes the dressage competition. Para dressage essentially focuses on how well the rider and horse gel, with riders judged on their riding and performance with the horse. All the events are individual mixed, and each competition has gold medal rounds, taking place August 3, 4, 6 and 7.

Para Judo

Para judo is one of two martial arts competitions at the Games. The Paralympics judo follows the same rules as its Olympic equivalent, except it’s practiced exclusively by athletes with vision impairments—and is way more badass, in my humble opinion. (I think I’m allowed to make that assertion since I’m also disabled, don’t come for me.) With the athletes unable to see their opponent, they must use their sense of touch and careful listening—including slight differences in breathing and movement—to sense what their rival may do next. Men’s and women’s matches take place September 5, 6, and 7 and have gold medal matches at the end of each day.

Para Powerlifting

Para powerlifting is a men’s and women’s bench press competition that tests upper body strength where the athletes compete in different weight categories. All of the events are individual and there are gold medal rounds for each competition (which varies by gender and weight class) taking place September 4 to 8.

Para Rowing

A relatively new sport, rowing debuted at the Paralympic Games in 2008. Now, there are five rowing events, including three mixed events. Para rowing rules are nearly identical to those at the Olympics and rowers are eligible for different events according to their gender and impairment categories. The races begin across all categories on August 30, continue to August 31, with final gold medal rounds on September 1.

Para Swimming

Para swimming has remained one of the most enduring sports in the Paralympics since its debut at the Rome Games in 1960. Its popularity is due in part because athletes with all kinds of physical and mental disabilities can participate and doesn’t require any specific equipment. (Prosthetics aren’t allowed either.) Featuring different swims at different distances, athletes compete in breaststroke, backstroke, butterfly, freestyle, and medley. As one of the most popular sports, there are men’s, women’s, and mixed events virtually nonstop with gold medal races near the end of every day, August 29 until September 7.

Para Table Tennis

One of the OG Paralympian games, table tennis actually has a longer history in the Paralympic Games than its Olympic counterpart. When it began, it was only open to wheelchair users, although today athletes are placed into 11 different classes based on their physical and intellectual impairments. Men’s and women’s doubles, singles and mixed games take place August 29 to September 7, with gold medal games every day except September 2.

Para Taekwondo

Para taekwondo is a new competition that made its Paralympic debut at the Tokyo Games. Focused on athletes with upper limb impairments, they are split into two sports classes and divided into weight categories. Men and women compete August 29 to 31, with gold medal matches at the end of each day.

Para Triathlon

A relatively new sport introduced at the 2016 Rio Games, the para triathlon is held over the “sprint” distance, which is half the Olympic distance for individual competitions, where athletes swim 750 meters, cycle 20 kilometers, and run 5 kilometers. The competition is divided by men’s and women’s, with medals being awarded for each race September 1 and 2.

Shooting Para Sport

Shooters compete in rifle and pistol events from distances of 10-meter, 25-meter, and 50-meter in men’s, women’s, and mixed fields. Depending on needs, athletes compete in a kneeling position, prone, or standing (or in a wheelchair or shooting seat). The games take place August 30 to September 5, with medals awarded each day.

Sitting Volleyball

Sitting volleyball is pretty much the exact same as the volleyball we know and love, except as the name suggests, is a sitting variation of the sport. It’s played by two teams of six players who move around the court using the power of their arms, along with a lowered net that’s 3 feet high. The games start on August 29 and continue until the men’s gold medal game on September 6 and the women’s on September 7.

Wheelchair Basketball

Originally used for rehabilitation and exercise for World War II veterans—wheelchair basketball is quintessential Paralympics. Now, it’s one of the most popular and beloved sports for wheelchair users around the world. Games start August 29 and go until the men’s gold medal match September 7, with the women’s September 8.

Wheelchair Fencing

What’s more badass than fencing? Wheelchair fencing. In this sport that requires discipline (and ability to not flinch when a sword is coming at you), athletes compete in a special wheelchair frame designed for the sport which is fastened to the floor—meaning the fencers cannot move and are always close to their opponent. Just like the Olympic equivalent, wheelchair fencing consists of three disciplines: foil, épée, and saber. The men’s and women’s matches take place September 3 to 7, with gold medal rounds at the end of every day.

Wheelchair Rugby

Wheelchair rugby is a four-person team sport played in specially designed wheelchairs. It combines elements of rugby, basketball, and handball, with players using a round ball. Because it’s such an aggressive sport, it’s often referred to as “murderball.” Need I say more? You’re gonna wanna watch this one. Mixed games start August 29, with the gold medal games September 2.

Wheelchair Tennis

Wheelchair tennis pretty much follows the same rules of able-bodied tennis, except here the ball can bounce twice before the player hits it back. Athletes are divided into open and quad classes, along with men’s, women’s, singles, and doubles. Games start August 30, with gold medal matches September 4 to 7.

91 notes · View notes

labuenosairesfrancaise · 4 months

Text

Prestwald Hall

Hi guys!!

I'm sharing Prestwald Hall . This is the 9th building for my English Manors Collection, and I will add many more!

House History: Prestwold Hall was, for many years, the seat of the Packe family. Before that time, it was the home of the Skipwith family. After the death of Major Robert Christopher Packe (born c.1783) - one time Aide-de-camp to King George III - who was killed during the Battle of Waterloo, the hall passed to his nephew George Hussey Packe who held the hall and estate until his death in 1874.

The Hall was remodelled by architect William Burn in 1842–1844, incorporating the fabric of a mid-18th-century H-plan house. It was Grade I listed in 1951.

One of the finest rooms inside the house is the Entrance Hall with its richly coloured marbled plaster work in the Italian style. The painted ceiling was inspired by Raphael’s Vatican grotesques and incorporates miniature landscapes, showing the house before and after its remodelling between 1842 and 1844. Below the ceiling, wreathing the room, are small medallion busts of the poets from Chaucer to Scott, positioned in the spandrels and are likely inspired by Alberti's external arcade at the Tempio Malatestiano in Rimini. An arcade opens on to a vaulted corridor leading to a top lit inner hall: these spaces also marbled. Off the corridor, the cantilevered stone staircase survives from the eighteenth century house, and was given its bracketed brass balusters by William Wilkins (1751-1815) in 1805.

The Dining Room, added by Wilkins in 1805, was incorporated into the remodelling undertaken by the Scottish architect William Burn in 1842. The room is overlooked by two dramatic full length portraits of Sir Edward Hussey Packe, KBE (1878 – 1946) and the Hon. Lady Mary Sydney Packe (née Colebrooke, 1890 – 1973) by the painter Glyn Philpot RA (1844 – 1947). The portrait of Lady Packe, painted in 1911, was described by the art historian Robin Gibson OBE as an ‘amazing feat of virtuosity’. Its elongated elegance and introspective characterisation is totally without the fashion-plate vulgarity of much Edwardian portraiture. Other portraits hang in this room of the Packe family including a painting of Sir Christopher Packe (1595 – 1682) who purchased the house in the 17th century painted by Cornelis Janssens van Ceulen (1593 –1661).

The library extends nearly the entire length of the house when the large doors that separate it from the drawing room are opened, connecting the two rooms. With clever use of constructional steel, William Burn was able to create these long adjoining rooms. The windows rise from floor level and open onto the garden which enhances the notion that Prestwold was designed in the style of an Italian classical villa. The doors and bookcases in library were made for George Hussey Packe (1846–1908) by Gillows of Lancaster and London in 1875.

A conservatory fills the recessed central bay at the front of the house, and projects out towards the garden. Behind the glass and elegant Doric pilasters, are well planted raised beds with a number of exotic plants and flowers

More history: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prestwold_Hall

Virtual tour: https://www.prestwold-hall.com/virtual-tour/

Night pics

Floorplans

This house fits a 50x40 lot and features the following:

great hall

long Library

formal dinning room

family room

playroom

formal gallery

a winter garden

14 rooms for family/guests + 3 service rooms

several bathrooms

This time I decorated most of the rooms in the main floor for picture purposes, but as allways, you can make it your own!

The second and third floor (bedrooms) are not decorated, but finished.

Hope you like it.

You will need the usual CC I use:

all Felixandre cc

all The Jim,

SYB

Anachrosims

Regal Sims

King Falcon railing

The Golden Sanctuary

Cliffou

Dndr recolors

Harrie cc

Tuds

Lili's palace cc

Please enjoy, comment if you like it and share pictures with me if you use my creations!

Early Access: August 15

Download: https://www.patreon.com/posts/prestwald-hall-104505183

#sims 4 architecture #sims 4 build #sims4 #sims 4 screenshots #sims4play #sims 4 historical #sims4building #sims4palace #sims 4 royalty #ts4 download #sims4frencharchitecture #ts4 #ts4 gameplay #ts4 simblr #ts4 legacy #ts4cc #the sims community #the sims 4 #sims 4

38 notes · View notes

389 · 1 year

Text

Jamaican Sound Clash Culture

Jamaican sound clash culture has its roots in the 1950s and 1960s, when sound systems first began to emerge in Jamaica. These sound systems were essentially mobile DJ setups that would play music at outdoor parties, dances, and other events. They were an important part of the local music scene, and helped to popularize a variety of different genres, including ska, rocksteady, and reggae.

As the popularity of sound systems grew, so too did their competitiveness. DJs and sound system operators began to engage in battles or "clashes" where they would compete against one another to see who had the best music selection, sound quality, and overall performance. These clashes often took place in outdoor venues and were attended by large crowds of people who would dance and cheer on their favorite sound systems.

In the 1970s, sound clash culture really took off in Jamaica, as a new generation of sound system operators emerged, including some of the most famous names in the business, such as King Tubby, Duke Reid, and Coxsone Dodd. These sound systems were known for their powerful sound systems, huge music collections, and their ability to engage in quick-witted banter and insults, known as "dubplate specials."

During this time, sound clash battles became more intense and competitive, with sound system operators often spending large sums of money on rare and exclusive records and dubplates in order to gain an edge over their rivals. These battles became a major part of Jamaican culture, with fans and enthusiasts following their favorite sound systems and DJs around the country to attend clashes and other events.

In the 1980s, sound clash culture began to spread beyond Jamaica and into other parts of the world, as Jamaican immigrants brought the tradition with them to cities like New York, London, and Toronto. Today, sound clash culture continues to thrive in Jamaica and around the world, with new generations of sound system operators and DJs carrying on the tradition and keeping the spirit of competition and creativity alive.

youtube

The rivalry between sound systems is intense and the rules dictate that only exclusive dubplates are played, which are usually rare or specifically cut for the clash. These dubplates are unique cuts of certain popular tunes or other material. Watching a sound clash is good fun and the audience decides who is better by cheering the most, and the energy is usually insane. In this case, Rodigan acts as both his own DJ and MC, but sometimes other MCs are present and the selecta (DJ) is separate. In Jamaica, the MCs are called deejays and the DJs are called selectas. Sometimes there are even special dancers on stage to make the show even more energetic. Sound systems in Jamaica were popular because people couldn't afford to buy records or speakers, so they would play music in the streets for everyday people. Then, they began to develop a rivalry and a following. It got crazy in the 80s when dancehall became harder and more violent in its lyrics. The sound clash is all about who has the best records, rarest collection, and most unique dubplates cut by artists. The artists usually voice a special message into the dubplates, hyping up the selecta/sound system. Hip hop may have also copied some of this culture, but it's not clear whether it developed on its own or was copied from Jamaica.

#history #jamaican #sound clash #culture #video #dubplates #djs #selectas

186 notes · View notes

oillydiya · 6 months

Text

Things Between Us | Cillian Murphy x OC

Chapter 14 : Accepting the Truth

Warnings: The following content may be disturbing.

On Sunday in London,

it was a day for Sansa to clear out her workspace and return the area to the gallery representatives. It was another busy day that left her feeling dizzy with all the tasks at hand. But amidst the chaos, she found herself missing Cillian deeply!

After their argument on Friday night, Cillian had asked her to fly to New York with him. However, due to her commitments to clearing her exhibition space, she was unable to accompany him. The distance made her heart grow fonder, as it had been almost a month since Sansa and Cillian had a relationship. Driven by her longing for him, Sansa decided to surprise Cillian by flying to New York. She thought it would be good for their relationship.

After making up her mind, Sansa hurriedly cleared the space by Sunday night so she could catch a flight to New York first thing in the morning. The film promotion event that Cillian was attending would start on Monday evening. Given the seven to eight-hour flight from London to New York, she would arrive just in time for his promotional event.

‘It’s going to be such a surprise for him,’ Sansa thought happily about her plan.

Excited for their first date outside London, Sansa quickly booked her flight and finished her work that night.

On Monday,

Sansa arrived in New York around 4 pm. She hurried from the airport to the venue where Cillian’s film was being promoted, located in front of a cinema in Times Square. She and Cillian hadn’t spoken since he left for New York, so if he saw her at the event without knowing in advance, it would certainly surprise and delight him.

As she arrived at the event venue, Sansa noticed the red carpet laid out for the actors and crew for interviews and fan interactions. Cillian, in particular, seemed to have a large female fanbase eagerly waiting for him.

‘He really is popular,’ she mused.

Sansa had brought along a Scarecrow poster and a Batman Begins scarecrow mask for Cillian to sign, hoping to bring a smile to his face. As people began to fill the event more and more, Sansa was glad she arrived early to secure a good spot near the barriers set up for fans.

Fifteen minutes into the event, celebrities began to arrive. Sansa saw many celebrities but didn’t recognize most of them since she wasn’t a huge movie fan.

And then...the crowd’s screams intensified, painfully echoing in her ears. She looked around with her bright green eyes, following the noise. There was Cillian, looking great in a black suit, styled just how Sansa liked.

But suddenly, everything felt dark and heavy for Sansa. It was like her heart sank when she saw Cillian walking into the event with his wife. The excitement turned into a shock, as if a shadow had fallen over her happiness.

Frozen in shock, Sansa stood there long enough to feel as if her breath had been taken away. She believed Cillian saw her too, as he was interacting with fans not too far from her. Their eyes met, and they both froze, shocked by each other's presence.

Cillian hadn’t expected to see Sansa in New York, especially since she had declined his invitation to come together. His participation with his wife matched the film representative's desire to have actors accompanied by their family members, reflecting the movie's family themes.

In that moment, Cillian felt paralyzed, overwhelmed by guilt and a heart racing with panic upon seeing Sansa’s tear-filled Green eyes. He wanted to say ... sorry, They stared into each other’s souls, an unspoken sorrow hanging between them as Sansa’s tears falling down her cheeks, a river of pain that nothing could hold back.

‘This is so painful’ Sansa cursed inwardly. She had known their relationship might end someday, but she hadn’t expected it to be so soon, and she was utterly unprepared for this moment.

‘I need to wake up from this dream and accept reality’ Sansa told herself, deciding then and there to end everything. Dropping her scarecrow mask, she walked away from the event, leaving a piece of her heart behind.

"The happiness I received from him was temporary, but the pain and suffering will stay with me forever."

Thank you for reading!

#cillian murphy x oc #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy fic

21 notes · View notes

thisisnotmeta · 7 months

Text

Million Dollar Man

Chapter 2

The train journey to London unfolded with a continuous hum, a rhythmic repetition of tracks beneath its carriage wheels. I leaned against the window, gazing into the passing landscape that morphed into its own mosaic of fleeting images. The city sprawling out before me, a canvas painted with the subtle hues of the afternoon.

Ben messaged me a couple of days ago inviting me to Jack Hatton’s (lead of streaming at Dirty Hit) leaving party in London - I made a mental note of the fact that he was leaving to move to Australia with his girlfriend - incase I needed a conversation topic… just for my socially anxious brain. As much as I was excited to meet more of the team and potentially the artists, my enthusiasm mingled with a thick layer of apprehension.

The city lights flickered in the distance, casting shadows on my skin as I considered the people I could potentially encounter there - industry insiders, artists of the label, potentially new… friends? The invitation felt like a pass into a realm where my burgeoning career could intertwine with the established echelons of the music industry and it made me feel slightly sick, especially since I was going in alone.

Stepping onto London’s turf, I deliberately chose a hotel in Canary Wharf, paid for by yours truly - this choice being highlighted by my newfound but still modest monthly income courtesy of Dirty Hit. With a sense of fiscal responsibility guiding me, I made a conscious decision to specifically allocate these earnings towards my career and music in general (ie. Travel, hotels, instruments) - the frivolous expenditures can be done by my part time job at home, I thought.

Unpacking with ease, I had some time to kill before needing to get ready. The hotel, strategically positioned just a 15-minute walk from the venue, became my new hub. The TV emitted a soft glow, casting an ephemeral light on the hotel room. Mindless reruns of “Victorious” played in the background, their laughter and scripted drama a distant hum. Perched on the edge of the bed, I idly observed the characters on the screen. At just 23, I couldn’t shake the subtle unease about the most definite generation gap I would be encountering at the party.

What am I getting into? I mused, scrutinising my own reflection in the TV’s muted light.

The likely attendees loomed in my mind. I always strive to never care about how I will be perceived in times like this but it gets the better of me here. Would they see me as a songwriter? Or just another one trying to get by as an amateur artist like every other angsty young adult. Am I truly just crashing a party beyond my years? Do I sound like an absolute idiot right now?

My apprehension found a bit of refuge in the idea that there’s a few youthful signings to Dirty Hit in the recent years - hopefully they don’t cancel like I was contemplating to do a few minutes ago.

In the lingering hours leading up to the event, I settle into a quiet rhythm, my fingers dancing across the strings of my guitar. Quietly strumming to not upset anyone next door, the melodies echoed through the room. Jotting down anything that resonated with me on my Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles notebook, I sought solace in the familiar embrace of my instrument, using it as my own vessel to get out the jumble of nerves and excitement within me.

My upcoming encounter with Matty Healy on the ‘songwriting getaway’ loomed large in my mind. He has a profound reputation for his creative mind, occasionally flirting with pretentiousness, but an intricate and enviable mind nonetheless. Would he see the potential in my songwriting?

The weight of his potential judgement fuelled my determination to impress him with the depth of my ideas. A fangirl moment interrupted my thoughts as the realisation struck - Matty might be at the party. It wasn’t even an outlandish notion either; after all, he was apart of the label, a big part at that. The mere possibility that the entirely of The 1975 might grace the event sent a shiver down my spine. Amid the brief reverie, I needed to refocus.

I want to show him good work.

A few more minutes of brainstorming and writing down ideas pass. “We all look for heaven, and we put love first,” was a phrase born from the introspective haze of my disassociation. I wrote down a few more ideas to pair with it - I liked it, it was earnest and real… hopefully others would think the same.

Glancing at my phone, the numbers told me there were still two and a half hours left. I nudged myself off of the bed and started the practical task of getting ready for the night. The shower became a sanctuary, the hot water cascading over me, it was a welcoming embrace after the lingering residue of travelling. As steam filled the bathroom, I closed my eyes, letting the warmth wash away not just the physical grime but the lingering nerves that clung to my skin.

Turning off the shower, I stood before the mirror, my damp hair awaiting transformation - fingers crossed. After drying, I curled and weaved strands into pin curls, a skill passed down from my mum. The familiarity of the routine was comforting. Makeup followed, the unfamiliar intensity of liner, mascara and slightly over-lined lips were a subtle nod at my newfound insecurity in my maturity. It made me look a little more mature, I guess. My hold-all offered a few choices of different outfits. I selected an off-the-shoulder black lace top, low-waisted jeans that hugged my hips and point-heeled boots to complete the ensemble. I surveyed myself in the mirror, definitely passable for the evening. With fourty-five precious minutes ticking down, I unraveled the pin curls, each strand dropping down into place showing a nice ‘blowout’ style. The air filled with the sweet embrace of my perfume, a final touch to my persona tonight.

Turning to my phone, I couldn’t resist the urge to take a couple selfies before heading out - I’m Gen Z, give me a break. Downstairs, the bar beckoned with the confident offering of liquid courage. I approached, I definitely need something strong. Ordering a double vodka, lemonade and a splash of blackcurrant, I winced as the contactless reader slapped me with a hefty £12.00 charge. Ah, London prices. The glass in my hand became my talisman, my elixir to bolster my resolve. As I sipped the time away, nerves tingled beneath my skin.

The party was likely in full swing by now, but my strategic calculations told me that arriving 30 minutes later meant most would be deep into their second drink, too dizzy to give me more than a fleeting thought. I nursed my drink, eyeing the clock, unwilling to dish out another £12 when a free bar awaited me at the venue. As I contemplated moving to a more comfortable spot a few feet away from the bar, my phone lit up with a message from Ben.

Eta?

Pre drinking alone at the bar haha. My university student brain is fried at London prices.

Nice lol, thought you weren’t coming for a sec. See you later.

Finishing the remnants of my drink, I relished the familiar burn as the liquid slid down. The hum of conversation and clinking glasses around me formed an antithetical soundtrack to the city’s docile pulse outside, excluding the occasional taxi driving past. I found a comfortable refuge in the short time i’d sat here, not really finding it in my feet to leave yet. The dim lighting cast a warm glow, creating their own little pockets of intimacy. A plush, but old-fashioned patterned carpet absorbed people’s footsteps, and the scent of aged wood and polished brass lingered in the air.

Pulling up the venue’s address on my phone, I looked at the walking journey on my screen. Google maps being my sacred guide through the labyrinth that is London streets - and oh, what I would do without it. And I know what you’re thinking: Camille, why the fuck are you planning on walking the streets of London at night alone? That is, my angels, because I am a cheap bitch and I refuse to spend £5 for a 3 minute car journey - I will just take my chances.

With a final glance at my phone, I examined the reflection staring back at me - not bad. I absolutely didn’t look like I was overcompensating for being an absolute nobody/foetus at this party.

Popping off the high bar chair, I smoothed down my top, my fingers brushing against the lace. As I reached the exit, the city’s climate bared itself to me, pinchingly cold air wafted onto me. The initial opening of the door was bad, but once I was outside, I was able to absorb most of the coolness. The glow of the streetlights guiding my way, casting a golden hue on the pavement.

At the end of my very safe -actually- walk, I was greeted by the bright LED sign that boldly announced the bar venue - ‘Pergola On The Wharf’. The glowing letters ambient against the night sky, like a beacon to draw people in. I could hear the muffled laughter and music through the refined brick walls. Stepping underneath the halo of the sign, I took a moment to myself, letting the good vibes and energy seep onto me. I made a mental commitment to let go of any lingering anxiety and embrace what could be a really fun night ahead. Maybe I’ll find Ben or I could introduce myself to other producers, or maybe even talk to Holly or Jamie.

Putting everything behind me, I stepped through the door of the bustling nexus of a bar. Unfolding everything before me, it was flooded with an array of unfamiliar faces, each one adorned with a concoction of some type of alcohol in their hand, laughter bubbling from every corner.

Groups of people, all talking together to make a harmonious cacophony, were scattered across the contemporary styled and what looked like plant-filled botanical bar. Lush ferns, vines, and vibrant flora adorned every corner and ceiling pane, creating a natural abundance of decoration. The vast glass window at the back offered a panoramic view of the dock outside, hinting that this bar probably had an inundation of bright, natural light during the daytime - which was a stark contrast to the glowing, candle-lit evening tonight. The aroma through the air was an intoxicating blend of florals and oud. A faint hint of cigarettes clung to people’s knitwear and thick clothing, adding a touch of ease to the ambiance.

Navigating through the basically sea of people, I looked around for any familiar faces. Some people danced energetically on the makeshift dance floor, lost in the rhythmic allure of the older club classics spun by the DJ in the corner, whilst others gathered in clusters, sat and stood all around. Amidst the crowd, I saw someone at the bar that caught my eye - a girl, roughly my age, who I knew just recently signed a deal with Dirty Hit, just a couple of months before me. She was engaged in a conversation with an unfamiliar face as they were paying for their drinks.

Seizing the opportunity to make some new friends, I made my way over, introducing myself with a smile. “Hey, hope I’m not interrupting, but I don’t really know anyone here. I’m Camille, I just signed with Dirty Hit a couple of months ago.”

“Hey! No, you’re totally fine,” her thick Scottish accent welcomed me warmly, the girl next to her turning also with a friendly grin. “I’m Isla and this is Sorcha. I was signed a few months ago as well so I don’t really know anyone here, so I thought I’d bring a plus one.”

“I didn’t even realise you could bring someone,” I laughed. “I wish I brought someone from home because honestly, an hour ago I was debating not even coming.”

“Oh, there was no plus ones allowed,” Isla replied in a hush, leaning in closer. “I just hope they think Sorcha’s one of the interns!”

Isla, a girl with unmistakable Scottish charm, stood out with her gorgeous, curly, ginger hair that tumbled in a cascade of vibrant, thick waves. Her fair skin bore the artistry of delicately placed freckles, and a bright smile that creased her eyes. Next to her, Sorcha was a striking contrast with her tanned complexion. Her long straight black hair flowed with a sleek elegance, framing her face and adding a touch of shine. Sorcha’s features were chiseled, embodying a blend of modernity but classic allure at the same time. They both were gorgeous and looked like a dynamic duo only seen in movies.

We found a comfortable spot at the bar, and talked about what we were working on in our early days being signed at our label. Sorcha was still in University, studying media and radio in hopes to have her own radio show one day. Isla was found via TikTok and had amassed an impressive following of 70k for her covers before she was scouted. She had been working with one of Dirty Hit’s partner producers in Scotland to save the constant trips, and is looking at releasing her first single in the next few weeks, which is so exciting.

“It’s called ‘Do I Have Your Attention?’, it’s basically a slow, acoustic song about my relationship with my family. I’m really proud of it,” she beams, circling her finger around the glass top of her cocktail.

“Honestly, that’s so exciting,” I smile at her. “I’ll keep an eye out for it when it’s out!”

“Aw, yeah, you should give me a text and let me know what you think about it!” Isla replies as she grabs her phone out of her pocket and slides it over to me. “Put your number in, always good to stay in touch with each other!”

Whilst putting my number in her phone, it seemed like a perfect time to grab a drink. I perused the menu, green circular stickers next to certain drinks indicated what was and wasn’t apart of the included drinks tab tonight. Opting for a French martini, I joined the conversation again, mentally wiping the sweat off my forehead for finding people I could talk to.

“What are you working on right now?” Sorcha shifted the spotlight onto me.

“I’ve had a few sessions with a few producers to establish what sound I want to make, I think I’ve found my voice with one of them, so I’m excited to work with him again,” I say, thanking the bartender as he brought over my freshly made French Martini. “I actually got a call a week or so ago about if I was interested in going on a work getaway for a few days to make new music, so all I’m doing right now is just writing down anything I like or anything I think I could use in a song. The idea of showing off my ideas to them is so nerve wracking.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” Isla chimed in with understanding, acknowledging the pressure in the industry. “Everyone has so much experience and is so creative, that it’s actually really anxiety inducing to show them what you’ve been working on, honestly I’m completely in the same boat. But everyone here is just so lovely.”

Her reassurance carried the weight of our shared anxiety, and I found comfort in her words. As we moved away from the bustling bar, standing amidst the lively crowd, Isla's curiosity veered toward the details of my upcoming musical getaway. I shared the scant information I had – a countryside location, collaboration with Ben, and the unexpected mention of Matty from The 1975 expressing interest in working with me, for some unknown reason.

"Matty Healy?" Sorcha's eyes widened, leaning in with genuine awe. Isla, equally surprised, exchanged glances with her friend. "Are you friends with him?"

I chuckled at Sorcha's enthusiasm and Isla's teasing nudges into her friend’s arm. The playful banter lightened the mood as I clarified that I wasn't friends with Matty, but rather, the prospect of collaborating with him was a part of the upcoming getaway.

Sorcha, in her unabashed love for Matty Healy, couldn't help but gush over the luck tied to the opportunity. Her cheeky question, a typical Love Island-esque move, drew an amused look from Isla. I navigated the topic, acknowledging Matty's attractiveness and creative prowess while trying to gracefully sidestep the "do you fancy him?" inquiry.

"I mean, he's definitely attractive," I replied with a hint of laughter, unsure how to navigate the question diplomatically. Admitting my admiration while surrounded by his friends and colleagues required a delicate balance of honesty and discretion. "I saw him at Leeds once, and, well, he was quite a sight."

Sorcha’s unabashed admiration for Matty echoed through the buzzing atmosphere of the party, her eyes scanning the room as if expecting the man of the hour to materialise. She turned back to face me, a mix of awe and envy painted on her face.

“I think he’s fucking stunning,” she declared, her gaze still darting around the venue in search of, to her, the elusive rock god. “I’m gonna be honest; I am so, so jealous of you right now. I’m absolutely in love with that man.”

“I know, it’s so surrea-“ I begin to share my thoughts with her, only to be abruptly cut off by Sorcha’s relentless proclamation of undying love for Matty Healy. Isla, seated beside her, sank slightly into her wooden chair, glancing between the two of us with a mixture of amusement, embarrassment and concern.

“The fact that he could even be in this room right now is driving me insane,” Sorcha continued, fervently expressing her infatuation and getting her point across (very much so) to me.

“I know it’s—“ I attempted to respond, but Sorcha’s enthusiasm overpowered any chance of a cohesive conversation.

“When you’re on your ‘getaway’ with him, you need to FaceTime me or something, she exclaimed, her excitement escalating as she fumbled for something in her purse. Suddenly, her phone emerged in her hand like a prized possession, and the conversation took a turn that left me feeling a bit uncomfortable, if I wasn’t already. “Then you can be like, ‘oh, this is my friend; I think you guys would get on well’ - something like that. Here, let me get your number!”

With the commotion, Isla sprang from her seat, nearly toppling over a woman in a black fur coat trying to navigate past her. The two exchanged hurried apologies before Isla seized Sorcha’s hand, pulling her away from the table.

“One sec, come with me to the toilet really quickly,” Isla instructed.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sorcha replied, following Isla’s lead. Before disappearing into the crowd, she turned back, flashing a wide smile my way. “I’ll find you later, okay?”

“Yeah, of course!” I shoot her a polite closed mouth smile back at her, my attention then shifting to Isla. She mouthed a guilt-ridden ‘sorry’ before vanishing into the sea of people. Well, that was interesting. I couldn’t help but think that maybe avoiding Sorcha for the rest of the night might be a good idea, as endearing as her enthusiasm was.

Amidst that wild chaos of an interaction, I rose from my seat, scanning the crowded room for any familiar faces. At least I already filled an hour or so of being here.

Before I began walking around aimlessly, a familiar voice cut through the hum of the crowd, and I turned to see Ben waving from the back of the bar near the windows.

“Camille!” he called out, his thick curly hair falling just before his shoulders. His tanned skin was complimented by wearing a white button up and fitted dress trousers. I weaved through the pulsating mass of people, relieved to have found a familiar anchor in this place.

“How’s things?” Ben asked, taking me in a brief hug, careful not to spill his pint of cider in his hand. “Thought you were gonna bail.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “No, no, couldn’t miss out on a free bar, don’t be silly.”

“I know, think I’ve saved sixty pound already tonight,” he chucked, bringing his glass into the air, causing some of it to spill over the top. For someone who’s probably had 8/9 pints of cider now, he wasn’t overly drunk, just on a good wavelength I would say.

We caught up for a while, talking about what we’ve been doing since we last saw each other, which wasn’t long at all. Ben talked about the new audio interface that he’s just bought for the studio and how he’s excited to try it out with me. A lot of our conversation was about our upcoming getaway, touching on topics like our favourite takeaways and how we are actually going to the Cotswolds for a week to write, which was exciting as I’d heard that that place was one of the most beautiful places in the country!

“Do you smoke weed?” Ben asked casually, his gaze fixed on his now-empty pint of cider with a frown. “Totally fine if not, just I know Matty and I probably will be bringing some down with us… if you’re fine with it?”

“God, don’t even be silly, of course you can,” I reply with a laugh, fanning away his slight concern with my hand. I didn’t smoke a lot, but when I did, it would usually make my throat hurt the morning after, so I tend to stay away from it but edibles are another story. The amount of times me and my flatmates at university used up the last of our change in our pockets to buy laced Haribos after a long week of studying, I couldn’t count on my fingers. Those were the best times. “I’m not much into smoking, but I’ll fetch some gummies or brownies down as well, what do you think?”

“Honestly, that’s perfect,” he smiled at my offer, and we sealed our agreement with the clink of our empty glasses. “Think it really gets your mind going to places you can’t explore otherwise, great for writing, plus it just gets you chilled out, doesn’t it?”

I was about to reply when a hand was firmly placed on Ben’s shoulder, a black nicely fitting long sleeve and washed out blue jeans was the first glance I got of him. He excluded the smell of thick smoke and some sort of expensive alluring fragrance, he must’ve been outside for a cigarette and then reapplied his cologne just a couple minutes ago - that or the cologne was just that strong.

“Going to the bar, mate. You wanting the same again?” Matty asked raising his eyebrows, holding his empty glass and pointing at Ben’s with the same hand. His eyes briefly flickered to mine before doing a very obviously double take at me. “Oh hi, Darling, I should’ve introduced myself sooner. I’m Matty.”

“No, you’re fine!” I say quickly before I’m engulfed in a hug from him, his smell being even more intoxicating this close. Yeah, I get what Sorcha was saying now. “I’m Camille, how are you?”

“I know exactly who you are, I’ve been listening to your work with Ben for a bit,” he says, beaming between the two of us in front of him, clearly a lot more gone than Ben. “I’m great though, what are you drinking? I’ll fetch you back something.”

Before I could reply, Ben intervened by taking both mine and Matty’s glasses from our hands. “You’ve went and got my last two, Matty. I’ll get this next one. Same again?”

“Yeah, please, mate. Love you, mate, thank you,” he replied slightly slurring his words as he had both hands on Ben’s shoulders giving him an affectionate shake.

As Ben made his way towards the bar, it left us momentarily alone together in this hectic room of a party. I found myself just stood beside Matty, a subtle tension lingering in the air as if waiting for each other to speak first.

A sly grin crept across Matty’s face and I couldn’t help but return it.

40 notes · View notes

kijosakka · 6 months

Text

dramaturgy; celebrity manhunt, pre-london -- im going to make it easy on myself and skim through pre-london first, as the most divergence in this AU happens during and after the fact. part of pre-london is the pre-season itself, the celebrity manhunt special.

so action comes and goes, noah gets out of the season and remains as chris’ PA for the year break. in that time, months before it actually happens, chris finds out about the new season (with producer word both pushing for ‘more drama/engagement’ or smth along those lines, and *noahs actual involvement this time).

while something something contracts might prevent him from just outright telling noah, i’d imagine that he’d all but say there’s going to be a new season and heavily imply that noah wont be able to get out of it this time. not only that but he also implies that maybe noah should give opening up to people on the show a chance,, cause, yk, hes about to be stuck on a jet with them,, for weeks,,

of course, noah is pissed at first. but in so many weeks or whatever he begrudgingly accepts it and just resolves to throw it like usual. as for the ‘opening up to people’, he lands on owen.

owen was nice enough, genuine to a fault and the person least likely to use any of noahs bare slivers of vulnerability against him. hes safe.

[*noahs involvement within the show as something that the viewers are very interested in. he could be ratings gold and they know it.]

now im a little bit torn over the whole ‘chris’ assistant’ bit; similar to the awakeathon i would imagine it might just be missing entirely and he would be fired before the fact. or it could happen, as a way to give his on-screen character some information. as a ‘look everyone, i have Depth. stop prying into my life please’

either way, whatever. *total drama dirtbags show up, chris locks them out of the venue, they dont win any awards, bus chase etc.

^ note here, per usual noah comes off as his usual uncanny self around the cast. sierra is there as well, im sure thats Something for her. however he does take notice of one (1) alejandro burromuerto, recognizing him and focusing on him. < this comes back during introductions, where he notes his behavior towards the cast.

[*total drama dirtbags existed as the original ‘new TD season’ that noah found out about and worked on for a little bit before he finds out that it was not in fact a real show and a coverup for something else (a grab for an extra contestant for WT) < hence, he knows josé from interviews/auditions he helped with, but doesn’t know alejandro since he decided one brother was Enough]

^ and just for extra clarity on the TDD thing bc ive kind of muddled it, say noah finds out about dirtbags, helps out whatever. and then the news breaks that its a fake phish for a new contestant for an actual show — fine enough, he’s already behind the cameras, so he can just stay there, right?

no, actually. its kinda just slung at him that he has to be part of the cast (smth smth his job is threatened under ‘contractual obligation’ like its not wildly unconscionable). and he is soooo pissed off, so incredibly angry at the circumstances he’s landed himself in somehow.

< but he is aware that he cant just bottle everything up because it will spill over; chris said he needs something to his character, so maybe he can funnel his anger into playing the game a little more. as the most outlet he’ll get before he can throw it and just be done with the show entirely.

^ and then,,, alejandro.

while the actual events of pre-london remain largely unchanged, his dynamics are changed with the presence of four different variables: alejandro, izzy, owen, and sierra.

alejandro i’ll get into more later with a longer post detailing what they think of each other mutually, but im gna touch on alejandro a little; with picking off team victory and believing heather is the only person who’s noticed his facade, he just,, doesnt really distinguish noah as a threat worthy of focusing on.

^ throughout the game and the events of, he does single noah out as the most tolerable of all his teammates but doesnt offer much intrigue beyond that until *new york. (to note, he’s a lot more comfortable with [oblivious to??] noahs detachedness than the rest of the cast since that empty demeanor is p common among whatever diplomatic events hes been a part of)

izzy is someone who’s character i established mostly in the long post i had about her?? but it is worth mentioning now though that she does stick very close by to noah throughout her time on the show, and routinely interacts with him where most of the cast had given up trying altogether.

^ it builds,, a kind of rapport between her and noah?? in some way after the fact he’d recognize it as a nice, ‘i-want-to-know-more-about-you-and-also-befriend-you’ thing, but during he reacts more like a yowling cat tbh. he’s built up this reputation and facade that make people stay away from him, and now izzy wants to stick around him and threaten his defense mechanism? no thanks. (< further reasoning for why he belays insults towards her during WT under the guise of his own facade)

owen is a special case — in the bus chase before the season, noah took the time to sit by him and build up the proper beginnings of a friendship, which owen is thrilled about < during his time on island, owen was really fond of noahs quips and ‘just wished he would open up a bit more!!’,, he thinks some friends would b good for him and hes right

^ and again, owen is noahs safest option to 'endear' himself to the audience with a friend. hes so genuine and understanding of where noahs projected character falls flat, and like izzy keeps interacting and wants to interact with him where the rest of the cast gave up (and noah the person becomes very fond of owen and the reprieve their friendship offers him very quickly)

and finally,,, sierra. i actually want to talk more about the Audience as an entity in this AU in a later post and sierra ties into that heavily. as established, noah is the one cast member she just doesn't know anything about. of each blog she runs dedicated to each member of the show, his is the emptiest; the most baseless. being in proximity with the man of mystery is exciting!

^ noah still comes off as very uncanny valley to sierra and his detachedness is immediately clear. but the key difference to her and and cast is that she has the Audience perspective --- he's intriguing moreso than offputting. (and also theres definitely Something there about the meta-analysis of panopticon as an in-universe topic and how sierra would relate/connect that once it becomes clear to the cast why noah acts as he does)

[*new york (same time space as the aftermath?) as the moment when sierra prattles off information about the cast but comes up with nothing on noah that his own interest is piqued just a liitle bit, and he starts building a proper relationship up with noah as the straightmen to the cast. < also come after london is something he looks back on as a Hmm. moment wondering what noah knows about himself.

^ alejandro does believe their rapport is one-sided bc of his own facade, which i want to mention simply bc he's wrong. it is no-sided. both of them r faking.]

now getting to the episodes themselves -- minor changes/additions:

in the yukon, he doesn't try to cuddle bridgette

^ also in the yukon, he shivers less visibly than the cast (think when in cold weather you get those microtremors that really fucking hurt after a few seconds). this is only because it feeds into the android joke-turned-conspiracy for the folks watching on the aftermath set

in new york, he was not actually asleep in the carriage nor did he explicitly pretend to be. he just Kept Quiet when heather did her thing

in germany, he doesn't go up to alejandro when he falls off the platform, but he does prompt owen to ask something along a similar line [to his canon ones]

in the amazon, he's the one to point out owens absence

in paris, the line of 'this totally works on my dog' he changes to smth like 'totally works on dogs',, for his own exercise of privacy really

in the space of the jamaica aftermath, he again disappears from the rest of the cast à la playa des losers save for owen. owen gets a hello during mealtimes and hes the only one.

and finally, the episodes of 'significant' development with noahs intrigue in alejandro:

beginning before any real events of the show during introductions

^ kicked off in germany similarly to canon, emphasized by newfoundland and the grab for DJ's alliance

and cemented completely [his interest in unmasking him] in jamaica, continuing onward with london around when he discovers that alejandro is acting skittery towards him because of his own suspicions

#i definitely meant to go more over the actual episodes and events here #but somehow got possessed and wrote all of this instead #i genuinely dk what happened. i blinked and had 1.5k words of whatever This is #i really need to copy paste all of these posts onto one document and try to organize it properly hmm #if theres any inconsistencies pls tell me but also be nice :(#i feel like i muddled a lot of things here hmmm #dramaturgyAU #total drama #td noah #total drama au #< scary have i tagged that before #i re-read this and had grammar changes but looking at it i cannot be bothered umm. sorry

15 notes · View notes

wheels-of-despair · 1 year

Text

Always Worth It | Ralph Penbury x You | Series Masterlist

Christmas in July Summary: Mr. and Mrs. Penbury get another chance at a perfect kiss under the mistletoe at an unexpected time of the year. Words: 1.7k

"Mail's here," Ralph announces, sinking into the sofa next to you. He hands you half the stack, and you begin sorting through it together.

You find twin envelopes in your pile, large and red, and hold them side by side to compare. Once you realize what they are, you scoff.

"What is it, love?" Ralph leans his head on your shoulder to see what you're seeing.

"Something from London's most respectable gossip group."

"They sent two?"

"I love how they used my new address, but my old name."

"Why would they… oh. Your mother."

"Of course."

"Well, what's inside?"

You hand Ralph your envelope with a smirk, and begin tearing into the one addressed to him. What's yours is mine, right?

You soon hold in your hands two matching invitations to the Christmas in July Ball.

"Why would they host a Christmas Ball in July?" Ralph asks.

"It was called off last year, on account of everyone being ill. They probably wanted to use the decorations before they go out of fashion," you hazard a guess.

"The decorations were out of fashion when they bought them," Ralph snarks, causing you both to snicker.

"Shall we go?" you ask, dropping the invitations in your lap and reaching for his hand.

"Do you want to?" Ralph counters, giving your hand a squeeze.

"I asked you first," you lean your head against his, where it still rests on your shoulder.

"Hm," he hums, staring at the invitations in your lap. "Why not?"

"Alright," you smile.

"You know, I was going to ask you to last year's Christmas Ball."

"You were?"

"I was. I was so nervous. I planned it for a month… and then it got called off when the flu struck. I was devastated."

"But you worked up the nerve to ask me to the Valentine's Day dance," you remember fondly, playing with his fingers.

"And was turned down."

"I seem to recall all that working out for us in the end," you tease.

Ralph lifts his head from your shoulder, and you turn for a kiss.

"My darling, would you do me the honor of attending the Christmas in July Ball with me?"

"Oh, I'm… I'm sorry, Ralph. I wish I could. But what would my husband think?"

Ralph lets out a low growl, then lurches forward and tackles you sideways. He crawls on top of you on the sofa, in your half-lying position, and begins peppering kisses on your exposed neck.

"Alright! Alright! I'll go with you!" you laugh. "But if we get caught, you'll have to be the one to explain our love to my husband!"

He grins down at you and plants one final kiss on your cheek before clamoring off the sofa. He holds out a hand. "Shall we visit your dear Anna and discuss dresses?"

As always, Anna came through. You'd looked through a catalog together, and found the perfect dress for a Christmas in July event - festive colors, but styled for summer. You had no intention of suffering through a heat stroke at this event.

The last Christmas Ball you'd attended had been a disaster - Ralph's night hadn't gone exactly the way he'd wanted either - and you both saw this as a second chance to get things right.

You were putting the finishing touches on your make-up when Ralph entered the room in his tuxedo. You watched him in the mirror with hunger, forgetting all about what it was you were meant to be doing. His tie and the detailing on his dark jacket matched your dress perfectly. He was breathtaking.

He caught your eye in the mirror and came to you.

"You look beautiful, love," he whispered, bending over to ghost his lips over the side of your neck. You were temped to call off the outing right there. If only you hadn't already gone through all this trouble.

You somehow finished the task in front of you and made it out the front door on the arm of your handsome husband.

"This looks an awful lot like the last Christmas Ball," you whisper as you enter the venue. You honestly couldn't spot much of a difference: the place was still lined with red and gold.

"So much for not going out of fashion," Ralph giggles in your ear.

"Hello, dears!" You both wipe the wicked grins off your faces when Ralph's mother greets you. "Doesn't it look fabulous? Feels just like Christmas!"

"Yes, Mother, it's lovely," Ralph says with a fake smile.

She pats him on the cheek and goes to greet someone else, and you share a look.

"Punch, my darling?" he asks.

"Who, dear?" you joke.

Ralph laughs and escorts you toward the refreshment table. With two cups in hand, you find an empty table and settle in to watch people for a bit. You sit close and sip your drinks, muttering comments to each other under your breath. Ten minutes later, you were prepared to declare this the best mother-sponsored event you'd ever been to.

Well, perhaps the second-best; that first Valentine's Day together would be tough to top. But any event with Ralph is automatically ten times better than one without him.

You and Ralph decide to be sociable and mingle a bit, and when that grows tiresome, he asks you to dance. When you step onto the dance floor and lose yourself in the most mesmerizing pair of eyes you've ever seen, the rest of the room melts away. You move as one, in perfect harmony, for what feels like hours. When you finally return to your seats, you notice that the room has become considerably more crowded.

Ralph drapes his arm over the back of your chair, and you sit close and watch the other couples dancing.

"Look," Ralph says, nudging your thigh with his. You follow his eyeline to see the back of a big blonde head belonging to Donald Andrews.

"Oh, no," you groan.

Donald turns, and you see that he's dancing with a short redhead.

"Isn't that…"

"The girl who humiliated me in front of everyone on Valentine's Day?" Ralph grumbles. "Yes."

You lean into him and sigh. "I almost think we should thank them. If those two hadn't made us so miserable, we might never have found each other."

Ralph gives you a squeeze with the arm around your chair, and you watch the dancing couple peacefully. Maybe there really is someone out there for everyone. You're glad you've found yours.

"There you are! Mother told me you were here somewhere!" You both straighten as Victoria and her crew of gal pals start noisily pulling chairs toward your once-quiet little table. "We've only just arrived. We met this fabulous band who invited us to another shindig later on tonight, you must come with us! Or are you too boring to enjoy parties now? Has marriage sucked all the fun out of you? I haven't seen you in forever, dear brother!" Victoria pouts, then catches sight of someone in the crowd. "He's coming home with me tonight."

Victoria gets up to pursue the man who caught her eye, and her minions follow.

You and Ralph look at each other with amusement.

"Well, that was a thrilling conversation," you chuckle.

"Almost like our presence wasn't required at all," he grins, glancing at the clock. "Would you like to go home and be boring together, or wait for Victoria to capture her prey and drag him back here?"

"I can think of a few things to do at home that wouldn't be boring," you wink.

A wicked glint appears in Ralph's eye, and he drains the last of his drink. "Shall we, my love?"

"There's one more thing that needs to be done before we leave. Let me visit the powder room, and I'll meet you under the mistletoe?"

Ralph's eyes brighten, and he nods in understanding.

"Be with you in a moment, pup," you whisper, planting a kiss on his cheek that leaves a faint lipstick stain.

You dodge dancing couples on your way to the restroom, freshen up, and remember the last time you were here. You'd been on the worst date of your life, not in your right mind, and were desperate to get home. But still… fate had put Ralph Penbury in your path. Literally.

Your only regret was that it took you so long to realize it.

Checking your appearance once more in the mirror, you pushed through the door, determined to right that wrong.

Ralph was standing beneath the mistletoe, just like you'd asked. His eyes were on the dancing crowd, which allowed you to surprise him.

"Excuse me, sir, but I couldn't help but notice that you're standing under the mistletoe."

Ralph fights back a grin and glances upward. "So I am, miss."

"I believe the laws of Christmas in July state that you must kiss me."

"Oh, I'd love to. But I'm married, you see," he flashes his wedding ring at you and returns his gaze to the crowd, "and my wife would never allow it." He's putting so much effort into keeping a straight face through your little charade, you expect him to burst at any second.

"What if we don't tell her?" you ask deviously.

"I'm sorry, miss, but I must decline. I'm quite in love with my wife, and would rather die than betray her." Ralph sticks his nose in the air and looks in the other direction. "I bid you good evening, and ask that you please leave me be."

"Ralph," you laugh with a good-natured roll of your eyes, wondering how long he's going to keep this up. He turns his head toward you, does a dramatic double-take, and lets his jaw drop in surprise.

"Oh, it's you!" he giggles, finally coming down for a kiss. You wrap your arms around each other and don't break your mistletoe kiss until you hear the familiar sound of your mother clearing her throat.

"Merry Christmas in July," he breathes when you part, your mouths still only centimeters apart.

"Are you two finished?" your mother snaps through clenched teeth.

"Not quite," you answer, coming in for another peck, then two, then three... since she asked. Ralph doesn't seem to mind.

"You are making a spectacle of yourselves!" she hisses, before whirling around and putting distance between herself and your scandalous display of affection.

"Ready to go home and be boring, love?" you whisper.

"My plans for you tonight are anything but boring," he grins.

#writings of despair #ralph is worth it #ralph penbury #ralph penbury x you #ralph penbury x reader #ralph timewasters #ralph timewasters x reader #merry christmas in july in august #totally didn't start writing this months ago and just remember it this week #that's not what happened at all

41 notes · View notes

lotusevents · 4 months

Text

Top Large Event Venues in London for Unforgettable Gatherings

London, a city rich in history, culture, and innovation, is the perfect setting for hosting large events. Whether you're planning a corporate conference, a grand wedding, or a major exhibition, London offers a diverse array of venues that can accommodate sizable gatherings while providing top-notch facilities and services. Here, we highlight some of the most impressive Large Event Venues London in the capital, each with its unique charm and capabilities to ensure your event is a resounding success.

ExCeL London

ExCeL London, located in the bustling Royal Docks area, is one of the city’s premier large event venues. With over 100,000 square meters of versatile event space, it can host everything from massive trade shows to international conventions. The venue boasts advanced technological infrastructure, including high-speed internet and cutting-edge AV equipment, ensuring a seamless experience for both organizers and attendees. Its proximity to London City Airport and excellent transport links make it an easily accessible choice for global participants.

The O2 Arena

Known for its iconic dome shape, The O2 Arena is not only a famous concert venue but also a superb location for large-scale events. With a seating capacity of up to 20,000, it’s perfect for major conferences, sporting events, and live performances. The O2 offers a range of customizable spaces, from the expansive arena to more intimate suites and lounges. Its state-of-the-art facilities, combined with numerous dining and entertainment options within the complex, make it an all-in-one destination for unforgettable events.

Alexandra Palace

Affectionately known as "Ally Pally," Alexandra Palace combines stunning architecture with expansive event spaces, making it a favorite for large gatherings. The Great Hall, with its impressive 10,400 square meters of space, can accommodate up to 10,000 guests. This historic venue offers a unique blend of Victorian grandeur and modern amenities, including excellent AV and lighting systems. Its picturesque location atop a hill in North London provides breathtaking views of the city, adding a special touch to any event.

Olympia London

Olympia London is a historic venue that has been hosting events since 1886. It features seven distinct event spaces, the largest being the Grand Hall with a capacity of 10,000. Olympia is renowned for its stunning Victorian architecture, including its iconic glass roof, which floods the space with natural light. The venue is equipped with modern facilities and offers exceptional support services, making it ideal for exhibitions, trade shows, and large conferences. Its central location ensures easy access for both local and international attendees.

Wembley Stadium

Wembley Stadium is synonymous with major sporting events, but it also serves as an impressive venue for large-scale gatherings. With a seating capacity of 90,000, it is one of the largest event spaces in London. Wembley offers a variety of configurable spaces, from the expansive pitch area to more intimate conference rooms and hospitality suites. Its world-class facilities and iconic status make it an ideal choice for high-profile events, including large corporate functions, concerts, and cultural festivals.

Choosing the Right Venue for Your Event

Selecting the perfect venue for a large event in London involves considering several key factors:

Capacity: Ensure the venue can comfortably accommodate your expected number of attendees.

Accessibility: Look for venues with excellent transport links and nearby accommodations for guests.

Facilities: Consider the technological and logistical amenities provided, such as AV equipment, Wi-Fi, and catering services.

Flexibility: Choose a venue that offers versatile spaces that can be tailored to your event’s specific needs.

Budget: Ensure the venue fits within your budget while still offering the essential features and services required for a successful event.

London’s diverse array of Large Event Venues London ensures that every gathering, regardless of its size or nature, can find the perfect setting. By carefully considering your event’s specific requirements and the unique attributes of each venue, you can create a memorable and impactful experience for all attendees. Whether you're hosting a grand gala, a major conference, or a large exhibition, London's event venues provide the ideal backdrop for success.

#Lotus Events #Large Event Venues London

0 notes

ginandoldlace · 6 months

Text

As vast housing estates went up all around London in the 1930s, creating what most of us now think as London’s suburbs, all of the community buildings were going up too. The Church of England for example built about 45 new churches in London in the mid 30s with this one, the John Keble Church being one of them. What is unusual about this place though is the architecture. Whilst a lot of synagogues were designed in a modernist style (perhaps because of the amount of leading Jewish architects that had fled to England from Europe at the time) most churches were built in a more conservative and familiar way. Not so the John Keble, which was designed by D F Martin-Smith in what must have been a very daring style back then. John Keble himself was a 19th Century church reformer so perhaps it’s appropriate that 100 years later a radical new type of church was built in his name?

Although this building was officially opened in 1936 there was a temporary wooden shed on the site for about four years serving the growing new estate’s ecclesiastical needs as the permanent building went up next to it. After four years waiting and with great anticipation, on the cold December night of its consecration, 800 local people packed the building waiting for the Bishop of London to turn up and do his bishopy things to make things official. Unfortunately that night there was a full on London pea souper of a smog covering the area making the Bishop quite late and the large crowd were left waiting wondering if he was going to text his ETA at any point or just leave them hanging. He did eventually turn up and went straight to the church hall next door and casually donned his robes and bishop stuff and then eventually made a grand entrance into the main venue and started the show as if nothing had happened. It is believed by some that the events at the John Keble that night and the Bishop’s very late arrival on stage went on to influence almost every Guns n Roses concert some 50 years later. History is amazing eh?

9 notes · View notes

celticcrossanon · 1 year

Text

Astrology of the Coronation Day

This is the astrological chart for 11.00am in London on May 6th, the start of the Coronation Service.

Very Amateur astrology comments below the cut:

The first thing I look at is the angles.

The midheaven, the MC angle, shows how things appear to the general public, casual acquaintances etc. In this chart Chiron, the asteroid of wounding, is conjunct the MC. This means that the Coronation Service will display some or all of the wounds of the King and it may be his attempt at healing some of those wounds (which we have seen already with the behaviour of Charles and Camilla).

The MC and IC angle, at 15.02 Aries and 15.02 Libra, is conjunct Charles's MC-IC angle at 13.15 Aries and 13.13 Libra. The Ascendant and Descendant angle at 6.32 Leo and 6.32 Aquarius is conjunct Charles's Ascendant-Descendant at 5.23 Leo and 5.23 Aquarius. This means that the ceremony is a good fit for Charles. When your angles match with another person, the way that person approaches the world and how they are seen or want to be seen by the world feels familiar, as it is the same as what you experience. It is a similarity of outlook that gives harmony between the two individuals. Similarly, with this event, having the angles conjunct means that this event is a reflection of how Charles wants to be seen and perceived, his approach to the world, etc. The image of the vent matches the image that Charles gives out to the world. The Coronation will fit him; he is not being forced into a way of thinking or expressing himself that is unfamiliar to him.

The Coronation Nodes at 4.03 Taurus and 4.03 Scorpio are conjunct Charles's natal nodes at 4.55 Taurus and 4.55 Scorpio. The Nodes of the Moon show your path in life. With the North Node in the 10th house, the House of Public position, conjunct Charles North Node which is also in the 10th house in his natal chart, this ceremony is a strong declaration of the culmination of Charles's destiny to be the holder of a prominent position in his public life.

The Coronation Sun is at 15.38 Taurus, the degree of astrological Beltane. As the service progresses, the MC is going to move across all the planets in Taurus - Jupiter, the North Node, Mercury, the Sun, and Uranus. It will be very interesting to see what planet is on the MC as Charles is anointed, and then as he is crowned. I am wondering if the actual crowning has been timed for when either Jupiter, the planet of the chief god, is on the MC or for when the Sun, the symbol of the King, is on the MC. If Charles is crowned when the Sun, in the degree of astrological Beltane, is on the MC, then he will truly be a Beltane King as per the Green Man on his invitation.

The Coronation Sun is conjunct Uranus, the planet of unexpected events, so I expect Charles's reign to be rather unsettled and/or to have some large unexpected events marking it. It could also be very modern and forward thinking, as Uranus is also the planet of innovation and progress - as well as being a free spirit. We can see this progressive thinking in such things as the inclusion of the leaders and representatives of different faiths in the Coronation Service.

The Coronation Moon at 24 Scorpio in the 4th house shows that family, roots, ancestors are important emotionally in this event (e.g. following the traditions is important). The Moon is also closely conjunct Charles's natal Sun at 22 Scorpio in the 4th house. When you have the Sun and the Moon together like this, the dynamic is that the Moon supports the Sun, especially with emotional support, so this ceremony (the chart with the Moon) is going to be emotionally supportive to Charles (the chart with the Sun).

Coronation Venus is in the 11th house, the house of groups, friends, the collective, working together etc. Venus, the planet of love, relationships, and values in the 11th house says to me that this is a person who cares for the values of the collective group and who wants to be liked or loved by the collective group.

The Coronation Venus indicates a reign where the relationship focus of the reign will be building a relationship with the collective group, being part of a group, working together with others and so on. (As a comparison, Queen Elizabeth's coronation chart had Venus in the 9th house, the house of foreign lands and foreign travel, and the relationship focus of her reign was building relationships with other nations, as seen in the Commonwealth of Nations).

Coronation Venus is in the sign of Gemini, a sign that generally likes to communicate their ideas to other people. There could be a lot of communication with the general public and adapting ideas to fit the mood and values of the general public in this reign, although the adaptation may be only on the surface (Gemini has a silver tongue and can adapt to fit in to almost any group, but doesn't necessarily believe the values that it proclaims to fit in with others).

Coronation Mars is in Cancer in the 12th house. Mars is the planet of drive, energy, willpower, anger, and this combination is not a good fit. Mars is in fall in Cancer, which means that it is weakened in Cancer, so it is easier to express the negative aspects of this combination - such as whining, being passive-aggressive, avoiding confrontations , behaving like a child when thwarted - than it is to express the positive aspects.

Planets in the 12th house are usually unconscious, meaning that the person with that planet is unaware of how they express that energy, although everyone around then can see it perfectly clearly, and they will not recognise that behaviour in themselves when someone else talks about it. So with Mars in Cancer in the 12th house, this ceremony and/or Charles's reign may see a lot of passive aggressive behaviour when it comes to desires and having to modify those desires, with the King being completely unaware of how he is behaving, and not believing it when someone points said behaviour out to him.

Two other planets are in fall in this chart: Uranus is in fall in Taurus and the Moon is in fall in Scorpio. This means that for both these planets it will be harder to express the positive energies of the planet/sign. It can be done, but it will take work. The Moon is boosted by being in its natural house, the 4th house, so it may be easier to overcome the Scorpio Moon's tendency to hold grudged and exact revenge for past slights. Uranus has no such support from its house, the 10th house, and so Charles will have to watch the tendency to embrace 'progress for the sake of progress' rather than 'progress for the good of all'. Not all traditions need to be thrown out to make way for the new.

Finally, both the Sun and Jupiter are in the 10th house in this chart. This is an excellent sign for a coronation, uniting the planet of the self, the Sun, and the planet of good fortune/excellent luck, Jupiter, in the 10th house, the house of public life and public position.

22 notes · View notes

ilovecupcakesandtea · 6 months

Text

Chapter one Chapter nine My master list

Title: Chapter eight

Word Count: 1027

Archive Warnings: Smut in future chapters. Slight angst. Alcohol misuse.

Rating: E

Pairing(s): Eddie Munson/Steve Harrington Robin Buckley/Chrissy Cunningham

Character(s): Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, Chrissy Cunningham, Benny, Uncle Wayne & The Party

Tags: Smut. Angst. Steddie. Buckingham. Steve Harrington. Eddie Munson. Robin Buckley. Chrissy Cunningham. Band AU. TW Alcohol use.

Summary (optional): Two different styles of music, two boys that really don't like each other. What could possibly go wrong?

Beta Reader: Thank you so much to my beautiful beta readers @slippy-slip @ladydarklord & @dontwasteyourchances

Art link and credit: Art is by the wonderfully talented @pink-luna-moth (as is the banner)

Fic link and credit: Ao3 Link

AN: First off thank you to Alex for the art and being just amazing to work alongside. Thank you to Slip for dragging me back from the edge so many times over this. I really am so excited to have this out here!!

I wrote this for the @strangerthingsreversebigbang event and had a lot of fun doing so!!

Divider links: reblog and music notes

July 2006 saw The Spitfires doing a 7-date tour in the UK. Chrisy’s mom had taken even more of a role as their manager now with them getting bigger and had made all of their travel arrangements, making sure that they had somewhere to stay in each city. The party had also decided they were going to join as it was the summer holidays. Dustin, Max, El, Lucas, Will, and Mike all joined the band as they flew into London Heathrow ready for their first gig at the O2 Academy in Brixton 3 days later.

They spent time seeing as many sights as they could whilst they were in London and had free time. The first full afternoon they were all in there, they headed to the London Eye. The sun was high in the sky and they were all full of energy. They went around the London Dungeons where Eddie spent the whole time trying to scare the others, successfully making both El and Max scream, earning him a punch in the stomach from Max. Worth it, he’d grunted at the time.

After the Dungeons, the group went onto the London Eye. Looking out over the city from the top of the Eye as the sun was setting was beautiful. Everyone was excited to look out and point at different things such as the Houses of Parliament, Westminster Abbey, Big Ben, Buckingham Palace, St Paul's Cathedral, The Tate Museum, Tower Bridge, and The Shard.

The show that night afterward in Brixton was amazing. The crowd was loud and the band was on fire. The party loved being backstage and then mixing with the crowd.

“Thank you Brixton, you’ve been amazing tonight! And you know what, I reckon we have too!” Eddie shouted into the mic at the end of their set, laughing. “Thank you and good night!”

“Good night, we love you” Chrissy shouted as the band walked off stage.

As the band left the stage, the party ran at them, shouting about how amazing their performance had been and how awesome it had been to see them on stage doing ‘their thing’. To say it had been a great start to the tour was an understatement. The venue cleared out and the band packed their things up before loading it all into the large car they had hired.

The best part of the night came totally unexpectedly as they were finishing putting their instruments into the car. As they were closing the trunk up, Steve noticed a group walking towards them, clearly excited.

“Hi! We’ve just been to your gig and we all absolutely loved it! Can we grab a few pictures and autographs before you head off?” One of the girls in the group asked.

“Sure! That’s fine by me if it’s fine by everyone else.” Steve answered, turning to the rest of the band who all nodded.

Lots of pictures were taken on various different digital cameras and autographs were signed by the whole band.

“Do you want to grab a drink at the pub around the corner?” one of the girls asked Steve.

“Sorry to butt in but we really need to hit the road if we want to make check-in at the next hotel” Eddie interrupted before Steve could answer.

“Sorry, guess that’s my cueto go.” Steve laughed.

The band waved to everyone and said their goodbyes to the group before getting into the car to join the party, Eddie and Steve up front, with Robin and Chrissy in the back.

“You’re so hot when you’re jealous, baby,” Steve whispered into his boyfriend’s ear as they were setting off before settling back and resting his hand on the inside of his thigh.

“ ‘m not jealous” Eddie responded, hands tightening further on the steering wheel.

“Sure, whatever you say” Steve chuckled. He couldn’t push Eddie's buttons like he was itching to do whilst they were in the car with the party.

“Stop trying to fuck the driver whilst he’s driving please, I’d like to get to the hotel in one pieceplease, we have a while to go still” Robin interrupted Steve’s thoughts of how far he could push things whilst he could. It had been a few days since they hadn’t shared a room with someone and Steve was determined to make the most of it.

The rest of the drive went smoothly. Music turned down low and everyone else asleep gave Steve and Eddie a moment together. Robin and Chrissy were as curled up together as they could safely be and the rest of the party was curled up under blankets.

The following day, after a late breakfast, the group went and had a look around Oxford, sightseeing on the river and exploring Oxford castle and prison at Eddie’s request. He walked around with his campaign notebook and wrote many details of the castle and prison down, much to the excitement of a lot of the party.

The rest of the tour followed a very similar pattern, typically driving to the next city in the morning before having some time to sightsee before the gig. Each gig was just as electric as the last; it seemed as though each night there were fans waiting for them as they packed up and sometimes even before the gig as they arrived at the venue a couple of hours before doors opened.

They played the O2 Institute in Birmingham, the O2 Academy in Liverpool, the O2 Apollo in Manchester, the O2 Academy in Leeds, and finally the O2 Academy in Edinburgh. Taking in as much of each city as they could in the packed schedule they had.

A couple of days after the final show they returned the car and flew back home. They had a couple of weeks free from shows and didn’t plan on having any band practice or writing sessions during most of that time either. Some real time to relax, which naturally meant that, according to Steve, this was the perfect time to house hunt. He and Eddie had decided to buy a place together as they both still lived at home and they wanted more privacy than that allowed.

#eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie #robin buckley #steve x eddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #chrissy cunningham #buckingham #smut #tw smut #tw alcohol

3 notes · View notes

dankusner · 6 months

Text

Starck contrast

The year was 1984.

A rich kid from Preston Hollow created a Studio 54 for the landlocked on a dicey stretch of McKinney Avenue.

The stories were legendary: People had sex in the bathroom. They did ecstasy, which was legal, and cocaine, which was not. The place was designed by Philippe Starck, aFrench architect who’d given his name to cool chairs that were wildly uncomfortable (the place had a few).

Stevie Nicks was part owner, though people rarely saw her during the club’s five-year run.

They did see Prince, Oliver Stone and Rob Lowe.

Clubgoers lined up to get inside. They wanted the scene, but they needed the music.

Punk, post-punk and new wave, spun on vinyl by real, living humans who knew more about obscure artists and B-sides than Casey Kasem could ever hope to learn.

The live shows were epic: Australian noise band SPK, New York art monster Grace Jones, the Red Hot Chili Peppers.

Video was projected onto the walls, because avirtual dreamworld still felt like a novelty.

Nobody knew screens and media would rise up like atidal wave and swallow us whole. You should have been there. And for one night only, May 12, you (sort of) can be when the Starck Club returns for a 40th anniversary party, thanks to the good folks behind the Longhorn Ballroom and the Kessler Theater, which is the far more civilized setting for this bash.

Of course, the event is already sold out, giving wannabe clubgoers the familiar experience of getting shut out ofthe best party in town.

Details: 6-11 p.m. May 12 at the Kessler Theater,1230 W. Davis St., Dallas.

Stalling for time FROM THE ARCHIVES In 1985, the now-acclaimed Texas Monthly writer Skip Hollandsworth contributed astory toThe Dallas Morning News about how men's rooms in Dallas were having amoment—avery opulent moment. He noted the upholstered walls ($70 per square yard) inside the gentlemen's lounge atCafe Pacific inHighland Park Village. He praised The Mansion on Turtle Creek's "hand-cast sink fixtures and commodes with comfy seats."Buthewas most gobsmacked by the facilities at the city's hottest dance spot: "The newly opened Starck Club downtown may be the only nightclub in Western civilization that has gotten national attention for its bathrooms. The facilities look like a combination video game, church parlor, hair salon and somebody's idea of a great practical joke. "The mirror-encased lobbies of both themen's andwomen's rooms arecoed. Everybody sits around high-tech couches and talks and smokes cigarettes. Occasionally,someone may get up to actually use the facilities. "There is a television monitor abovethecathedral-likedoor thatleads to the stalls.Likearrival-departure screens at the airport, the monitor tells you which stall is occupied. Each stall is setoff in its own separateroom large enough to startan impromptu game of handball." Hollandsworth spoke with valet attendant Herman Babers, 60, who worked the men's lounge at another showy nightclub, Mistral, inside the then-Loews Anatole Hotel. "I always thought you were supposed to pop inand out of abathroom," Babers told him. "But these men today like to come in and brush their hair and think about things, I guess." Christopher Wynn"The facilities look like a combination videogame, church parlor, hair salon and somebody's idea of a great practical joke."

For One Night Only, the Kessler Theater Turns Into the Starck Club The infamous night club in the West End opened its doors 40 years ago. The Kessler Theater is bringing it back to life, briefly. The scene at the Starck Club during its peak.

New York City had Studio 54, London had the Hippodrome, and Dallas had The Starck Club. The West End venue, named for its Parisian designer Philippe Starck, defined the nightlife scene in Dallas throughout the 80s and reveled in the excesses of the decadent decade, powered by a new and curious drug called ecstasy. DJ Mark Ridlen says there’s more to The Starck Club than meets history’s narrow eye, a cultural touchstone that meant far more than the unchecked libido of the clubgoers. “All they talk about is the drug busts, ‘Who shot J.R.?,’ and the 80s but you’ve never seen a club with such an eclectic lineup over the years whether it was a band, fashion shows, plays, performance art,” Ridlen says. “You name it. They had it.” The Kessler is bringing back The Starck Club for its 40th anniversary reunion by transforming into the venue for five hours on Sunday May 12 into a new version of the influential Dallas nightclub. Kessler Artistic Director Jeff Liles said the event sold quickly: it took less than a week to sell out. It is not dissimilar to the venue’s tribute to the long-gone Video Bar, a room that was influential in the avant-garde scene of the 1980s. “We love paying homage to the venues that made Dallas culture what it was,” Liles says. “It was happening right at the same time as the emergence of the Deep Ellum scene.” Club founder Blake Woodall opened his vision of a hip, technology-filled nightlife spot in 1984 under a Woodall Rodgers overpass near the West End in a converted warehouse space. The first official show for the club’s investors brought Grace Jones and Fleetwood Mac’s Stevie Nicks to its stage. They were the first of many celebrities to walk through its doors, early adopters before Rob Lowe and Princess Stephanie of Monaco. Talking Heads’ David Byrne dropped in while in town to film his movie True Stories. Members of the famed Brat Pack who starred in movies like The Breakfast Club and Pretty in Pink spent evenings there. Prince even hosted an after party at Starck one night that went “well into the morning,” according to David Hynds, who ran the club’s video and art department with his then wife, Suzie Riddle. Word of mouth spread mostly by hairdressers to their clients helped build the club’s reputation as a fashion hot spot for the late-night partier. The Starck Club’s popularity started with some exclusivity but eventually, it wasn’t a place where you had to argue with a bouncer to convince them you were important enough to go past the velvet rope. “Initially, it seemed to have an upper-end feel to it but as time went on, we attracted a much broader range of customers,” Hynds says. “Part of the design and desire was to have a complete mix of all spectrums of people.” The space wasn’t just used for live music, dancing, and the occasional hit of what we now call Molly. The Starck Club was one giant canvas that a got a new coat of paint every evening. “We had these funky theme parties,” Ridlen says. “We would make it look like a grocery store or we would make it look like a rodeo. We’d have these fun themes with appropriate music. We’d always have video exhibits, people showing their art videos. We had events just for that.” ADVERTISEMENT

The club’s first theme party took on the psychedelic. Hynds asked Ridlen if he would create a band that fit its far-out theme. Ridlen’s band was named Lithium X-Mas and the group stayed together long after the club’s closing. “It was only meant to be a one-time deal but a few months down the road, they decided they would carry it forward under that name,” Hynds says. The Starck Club served as a kind of zeitgeist thermometer for its time that reflected changing trends and new sounds. “It was the beginning of the DJ culture in Dallas,” Liles says. The events on the club’s calendar weren’t just concerts. The Starck Club would host fashion shows, plays, and all kinds of performance art. “It was a hotbed of all kinds of just really cool activities under one roof,” Ridlen says. “You would come and see that and then, of course, stick around the music.” No ideas was too off the wall for the Starck Club. Hynds had everyone on the staff pitch ideas for shows, theme nights, and artistic expressions. “One of the things we did was a furniture fashion show,” Hynds says. “It had the basic design of a fashion show instead of clothing, we had people dressed as furniture movers bringing up furniture. Me and Suzie and [Greg Snyodis] from Lithium X-Mas had the idea of doing a band but instead of audio or music, it was visual. Instead of musical instruments, we used visual instruments.” So no recreation of the Starck Club would be complete without a reconstruction of its eclectic style. Camron Ware, the owner and founder of Lightware Labs who provided the visual tech for The Kessler’s recreation of the Video Bar, will work with Hines to turn the Kessler into a visual recreation of the Starck Club. “It’s going to feel like it’s all really immersive when you come in,” Liles says. “There’s going to be a red carpet and everything. We’re really gonna trick out The Kessler that night.” The Kessler turns into the Starck Club for one night only, from 6 p.m. to 11 p.m. on May 12. Tickets are sold out, but keep your eye on this page. 1230 W. Davis St.

youtube

#Youtube

3 notes · View notes

tarithenurse · 2 years

Text

Bookish - Epilogue

Fandom: MCU AU Pairing: Loki x fem!reader Content: Wedding fluff, and smut. Lots of smut. In fact 2/3 of this is smut. A/N: I was asked to and liked the idea of writing and epilogue to Bookish...but thi really is the end of the story.

Epilogue – The Wedding(night)

Looking at yourself in the mirror makes it even harder to believe that it really is happening.

“Is this the one?” Frigga asks with baited breath, eyes twinkling with excitement at the vision before her.

She and your own mother are sitting on a low couch behind you, both equally obsessed with the idea that you’re trying on wedding dresses. Personally you’re thrumming with anticipation of what’s to come.

Looking at the dress, you like the way the fabric flows and falls from your hips after having hugged the curves of your torso. The back is bare, making you feel sexy although a bit exposed. Maybe it’s too much? You like that the fabric is not bright white (as many of the previous wedding dresses you’ve tried on have been) but rather slightly broken, creamy. Tiny emerald crystals embellish the bodice, growing denser and bigger to highlight you waist, a nod to your betrothed's favourite colour and it’s one of the reasons you had picked the dress. Turning again to see your reflection from the back, you trace the green trail that drips down the skirt, the distance increasing between the fragments the further your eyes descend along the expanse of fabric. Carefully, you begin to twirl, feeling the swish of the silk and real organza.

“Oh, darling,” your mother gushes, fishing out a tissue from the box on the table next to the couch and rushing over with it, “here you go.”

Surprised, you dab under your eyes and find the tissue wet with tears of joy. This is the one.

...

You kept the secret about the wedding dress throughout the planning of the wedding (long live the competent wedding planner Loki had insisted on hiring). There were a few compromises along the way but Loki basically let you arrange your dream/princess wedding exactly the way you liked it. That had brought you to finding pictures on the internet from London where the most perfect venue resided with a large park and Loki just smiled and said ‘of course’ when you, as a joke, suggested the place. You took a trip to London simply to survey the place and talk with the catering there before finding possible accommodations for your families.

And now...now you’re ready to pass through the doors of the venue to enter the chapel and stride up the isle towards Loki. You love the place because of the birch and maple that are visible through the tall windows, the summer’s golden light that enters passing through the green leaves and granting an ethereal atmosphere...but right now all you can think of is your husband to be.

“Are you ready?” the ceremony master, your best friend Natasha, whispers behind you as she begins to arrange your veil.

“Yes.”

There’s no waver in your answer, no doubt in your heart. That is not to say that your heart isn’t beating rapidly in your chest and your hands that are clutching the bouquet are sweaty...but this is what you want. At the other end of the isle stands Loki, your love through the last five years and many more to come, you’re sure.

“Okay,” Natasha smiles, “I’ll go ahead and you come after the first refrain of the song.”

As if you don’t know the plan. After all, you’ve rehearsed it, practised walking just right so it fit with the music and for the song to come to an end when you reached the centrepiece and Loki. As Natasha slips in you can hear the murmur of people quiet because they’re just waiting for you now.

Okay...this is it.

You wriggle your toes in the pretty green pumps, happy to have found something that’s actually comfortable to wear for the entirety of the event. Looking down at your hands, the long stems of white orchids bow to you, as if nodding their acceptance and comfort. Then the music starts. The doors open. And all you can see is Loki waiting for you with a huge smile in his eyes as he gasps at the sight of you.

You’ve chosen to walk the isle alone, breaking with tradition yet again. First you abandoned the stark white of the virgin, now the notion of someone having the power to give your away. No. You’re going to Loki of your own volition and this is the way of showing it although the first steps are made on wobbly knees until the power of the music grants you strength. Its all you can do not to rush to Loki’s side, but take your time instead to parade past the rows of chairs, each adorned with clusters of orchids and emerald ribbons.

Everything is a blur and you’re surprised as the wedding officiant “suddenly” asks you if you would take Loki Laufeyson to be your wedded husband. You look into Loki’s eyes, taking your time to feel the moment as it rushes in over you.

“I do.”

There’s a smattering of applause.

“Do you, Loki Laufeyson, take [Y/N Y/L/N] to be your lawful wedded wife?”

A tear is glimmering on Loki’s cheek as he looks upon you. “I do.”

“Then I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the officiant declares.

The kiss starts chaste enough although soon Loki pulls you flush against him, sweeping his tongue past your lips as a low hum that only you can hear rips from his chest.

...

“Now I got you all to myself, Mrs Laufeyson” Loki purrs as he closes the hotel room’s door behind you.

It has been a long day but a perfect one. Everything had gone according to plan and thankfully everyone had gotten along well.

Now your feet are sore after dancing and you’re tempted to plump onto the bed unceremoniously.

But not yet. “Why, yes you do...dear husband.” You like the way the word tastes in your mouth.

Reaching for his emerald tie, you pull him in for a searing kiss, finally no longer having to be chaste for the sake of the wedding guests. Now it’s fiery enough to distract you from the nimble fingers that begin to search for a way into the dress.

“Mmm-no,” you pull away, playfully slapping at Loki’s hands before he can succeed.

“But darling,” he complains bewildered.

“You first, babe.”

He allows you to pull of the slate grey suit jacket. Underneath await a vest but you know how to deal with that quickly and Loki helps as best he can because you keep promising him that he’ll get to undress you once he’s naked..however that means that his own disrobing is a bit hasty.

“I’m not gonna run away,” you mumble in between kisses as you slide the shirt off his shoulders.

“No,” he admits, “but you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I got plans for you for tonight.”

“Oh? Is that so?”

You can feel him smile against your throat. “Yes, Mrs Laufeyson.”

So do I. Sinking to your knees before him, you unbuckle the belt and open the pants to slide them down his legs, reluctantly waiting for the man to step out of them before you, quite literally, grab him by the balls to guide him closer to you. Already, his cock is half-hard and it fits snugly in your mouth and responds happily to the kitten licks you bestow it.

“Oh fuck,” Loki groans above you.

Getting there. Perhaps it’s a good thing your mouth is getting full or the pun would have slipped out. Instead you just hum around his cock and roll his balls gently in your fingers. You can sense that he’s trying to find purchase, something to steady himself by and you release him with a wet pop.

“Sit on the bed,” you order and he complies.

Lifting the skirt around you, you crawl between his knees and continue where you’d let go. You slide a hand up his thigh and over the sharp hip bone, trail across the tensed abdomen until you finally reach his chest...and then you push, ensuring that he has to lean back on his elbows and granting you better access. Forcing yourself a bit, you manage to take his cock past your gag reflex.

“Damn, it feels so good, babe.”

You can only hum in response which makes Loki groan louder.

Carefully, you take him deep again and again, before returning to the more shallow sucking where there’s room to run your tongue along the shaft and flick to the frenulum when you almost pull off.

Loki’s hands have found the covers of the bed and are wringing them tightly. You know his tells, knows the signs of when he’s close to coming and it only takes a few minutes before all of his body is thrumming with the energy of being right on the edge. You pull away, placing a last sweet kiss to the weeping head of his cock, and wipe your mouth before standing up.

“Darling?” he pouts but then he’s smiling at you too, knowing he finally gets to see you undress.

Smiling, you twirl one last time before him before you stop with your back to him, showing how you slowly pull the little zipper the rest of the way down. It’s a considerable amount of gravity-defying goodwill that has kept the dress in place all day so it’s easy to let the bodice fall forward leaving you upper body free in the cooler air.

You can hear Loki gasp behind you, and you glance over the shoulder to see him fisting himself in pure anticipation. You smirk. Then you drop the dress completely, revealing what little you’re wearing underneath: emerald string and garter belt to hold up the sheer stockings.

Stepping out of the cream fabrics that have pooled by your feet, you know you look sexy because Loki has gone completely still. Bending down with your ass to him, you pick up the dress and lay it over a chair before finally, finally turning to face him.

“Are you okay, love?” you ask him sugar sweet. His sitting with open mouth, just staring at you and completely forgotten about the cock that’s twitching in his hand. “Loki?” He’s in front of you quicker than the blink of an eye, hands and twitching finger inches from your skin as if he’s waiting for permission to touch you. “You like?”

“Very,” he sighs, fingertips brushing the smooth material around your hips, “I like it very much...in fact...you’re not taking this off...but this...” He slips a digit under the silk of your string, gently stroking towards your clit and you can feel the anticipation building.

One by one, he unclasps the garters, allowing him to pull down the underwear to your knees before he reattaches the stockings. Only then does he slide the string down to you ankles and lift your feet, one at a time, to step out of them.

“Ahh,” he presses the emerald silk to his nose, “how I’ve longed for this scent.”

“Well then...come and get a taste too.”

You walk past him, making sure to sway your hips more than normal, and lie down on the bed. Beckoning for him to come to you, you spread your legs to show your glistening arousal and he looks like a thirsting man who finally has found water.

Crawling between your legs, he kisses his way up. Small nibbles at the ankles, wet and sucking kisses on your inner thighs before he finally places a chaste kiss on your bud. It sends shivers racing through your body.

He looks up at you with lust-blown eyes. “Please allow me, Mrs Laufeyson?”

And of course you nod your approval hands already reaching for his locks in the hope of somehow finding anchor through what is about to happen.

Your husband’s skills are golden, lapping with broad strokes as he hums into your cunt in delight. Kitten licks, flicks with the strong tip of the tongue, and sucking on the clit. You’re hurdling towards the precipice when Loki inserts a couple of fingers, bending and wriggling them until he finds the right spot and he has to hold you down because you’re thrashing at the heavenly sensation.

All of you is burning with desire and the knot in your womb is growing, hot and heavy and ready to burst if he’d only allow you...but instead he stills. Languidly, he licks around your clit, too slow to tumble you over the edge while his fingers are immobile within you. You wine and beg, but he just chuckles at your desperation.

“Please,” you cry out, pulling a bit harsher at his raven strands which makes him growl, “I’ll do anything!”

That gets his attention and he lifts his head to study your features. “Really?” A thumb rolls over your clit, sending new waves of pleasure through you.

“Yes, gods, please!”

“Will you promise me to go shopping for new toys with me?” he asks without batting an eye but while wriggling the fingers against your g-spot.

Of course you agree. How could you not?

But as a reward for your acceptance and obedience, Loki takes to lapping at your cunt and clit once more, fingers pumping in and out, sure to rub against the sweet spot. It doesn’t take long before you quake and moan once more and as he latches on to your clit, sucking and flicking harshly against it with the tip of his tongue, you cum with his name tumbling from your lips.

He rides you through it, allows for you to breathe as he eases his finger out and licks them clean. He gets to his knees, proudly showing his weeping erection and already your body yearns for him again so you don’t protest as he pulls you towards him with a strong grip.

Lifting your hips, he can lower himself enough to meet you and for his cock to brush through your folds with a promise of filling you up.

“Please, Loki,” you whisper.

He fits you perfectly even though the first inch or two always makes you gasp at his size. After that, you’re gasping at the satisfaction it brings to have him sheathed within you.

“So tight,” he groans.

His hands find your hips and he moves you back and forth on his cock, using you as a fuck-doll to derive his satisfaction from and you can see he quickly gets close as your cunt flutter around him with the promise of another orgasm.

“Almost,” you moan, hand reaching for where his cock slips in and out.

“Don’t touch yourself,” he growls.

A bit disappointed, you remove your fingers that just had connected with your clit...but then he angles you differently and his cock keeps gliding over the perfect spot just like his fingers had and you find you don’t need to help the orgasm on the way.

Your eyes roll back and your body locks up as you cum. Vaguely, you can hear Loki swearing as he pulls out, but you’re still riding the high and can barely find it in you to whimper at the emptiness.

But you must have, because he whispers in your ear: “Does my love want more? Then I’ll give you more.”

Flipping you, you have the wherewithal to brace yourself against the headrest of the bed seconds before he rams into you, his hand snaking around to find your clit.

It’s not that you come again. No. He rather prolongs the orgasms by rutting into you hard, cussing every other time as your cunts flutters to try to milk him. His hips stutter but you have plans and so you collapse forward, effectively sliding off his cock.

“Not like that, hon,” you explain with a smirk to him, “lie down.”

Loki complies, lying down with his hands behind the head as he looks up at you. His chest is rising and falling rapidly, beads of sweat adorning the muscles.

Slowly, you crawl over his body and bend to kiss him, savouring the lingering taste of yourself on his lips. And as you kiss him, you reach a hand between your thighs to grab his cock, guiding it as you sink down upon him. You can feel him gasp into your mouth as you do so.

Slowly but surely, you begin to ride him, fighting against the urge to solely focus on whatever pleasure you can obtain but rather what has Loki gasping and groaning beneath you. Your hands are fondling your breasts, tweaking the already pert nipples and sending little ripples of delight into your stomach. It makes your thighs shiver and protest because you’re already thoroughly fucked but you persevere, riding Loki to his own brink.

Pleading eyes look up at you. “Please...cum with me?”

You don’t have the air to answer, so you have to make do with nodding and you snake a hand between your legs to play with yourself. Delighted, Loki grasps your hips and begins to buck up into you.

“Count me down, love,” he gasps.

“Three,” you moan.

The knot in your womb is tightening again and your pearl is throbbing.

“Two.”

For a moment your cunt relaxes, allowing Loki to enter deeper, completely bottoming out and finding a spot that has you seeing stars. His eyebrow crease as he tries to restrain himself just a bit longer.

“One.”

Your fingers are moving rapidly, rolling and tweaking your clit.

“Fuck!” You groan in unison.

Loki’s hips stutter as your cunt clenches again, milking every last drop from him while your backs arch. For a moment you can’t move, can’t free yourself from the bruising hold Loki has on you...but you don’t want to either because all you care about is the blinding bliss that is surging through you.

When you finally do come to your senses, you collapse onto Loki’s form and nuzzle into his neck, content to feel his spent cock within you as it still twitches, dragging out the time you need as you come down.

“I have plans for you, dear wife,” Loki confesses in a murmur against your hair.

“Kinky plans?” you mumble with hope.

“Oh, yes.” He kisses your nose. “But for now...let me help get you cleaned up and ready for bed, my love.”

#Bookish fanfiction series #Loki AU #Loki MCU #Loki smut #Loki x reader #Loki x you #Loki Y/N #Loki Sugardaddy #Bookish #loki fluff #Loki fanfiction #Loki fanfic #Loki #Loki Laufeyson #fanfiction #fanfic #writing

68 notes · View notes