#also: taylor swift references everywhere

[morganee]

Byler Week 2023 - Day 5: Secret Identities

“Are you free tonight?” Will blinks and gapes a few times. “What?” “I’m going out with my sister and her best friend tonight. We’re going to a pub.” Mike moves forward, and Will’s breath hitches. “You could join us. It…could be fun.” or Mike follows his sister to England to write articles about the celebration of the Silver Jubilee. There, under the pale British sun, he meets Will.

title: a sad beautiful (tragic) love affair chapters: 1 of 4 word count: 14,450 link: chapter one - I was enchanted to meet you on ao3

[l-just-want-to-see]

devils that you know / raise worse hell than a stranger (THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT + Jason Peter Todd)

the black dog / Robin / Peter / the smallest man who ever lived / who’s afraid of little old me?

[weepynymph]

You best believe I lost my shit when I saw that Pisces constellation in the Lavender Haze video.

[dlscenarios]

How I Long For Our Trysts

Anthony Bridgerton x f!Reader SMUT

I finished reading The Viscount Who Loved Me & i'm already missing this fictional man like he's my husband that went off to war.

Also ofc the title is a Taylor Swift reference. What else is new?

Cw: AFAB Reader + a few brief mentions of Reader being a lady, Bridgerton-typical society talk, Reader & Anthony are pretty handsy, No foreplay, Unprotected sex + Creampie

You were going to be the death of him.

Anthony Bridgerton always knew he was going to die young, but he'd always thought it would be a similar death to his father's — sudden and perhaps by the stinger of a measly bee — yet the agonizing wait for you to appear in the doorway of his study might do him in first.

His mother had invited what felt like hundreds of singles in the ton for another one of her house parties at Aubrey Hall. The woman was relentless in her task of marrying off her children, although she seemed to focus more on Anthony than his brothers. To the viscount's dismay (he was ashamed to admit his simultaneous delight), you were one of the invited guests. Anthony's mother had no idea that you and her eldest son had already become well acquainted with each other, having met earlier in the season.

You had a distaste for society and its strict rules, something that both intrigued and infuriated Anthony. You conducted yourself in a way that haunted his very being. Had you been a smidge less cynical, you would fit Anthony's idea of a perfect viscountess exactly.

Since your first meeting, the viscount would see you everywhere. At the shops, the park, every ball, there was even a time Anthony could have sworn you were in his bed beside him only to find out it was just an all-too-real dream. In hopes of getting you out of his head, he began pursuing you. Not in hopes of marriage, Anthony had carefully planned out every minute you shared together to avoid such a thing, but in hopes of turning his dream into a reality. And it worked. It worked far better than Anthony thought it would. Every moment he spent getting lost in your body felt better than it had with any of the women he had slept with before. He craved you more than he had ever craved anything in his entire life. While your moments together were fleeting, he made every minute count and seared the memory into his brain. 

Now that you were under the same roof as him, he could barely hold himself back. His siblings had coerced you to join their game of Pall Mall earlier in the evening and each time your ball and his sat near each other, it took every ounce of Anthony's strength not to pull you to the side and kiss you senseless. After the game, he stepped closer to your side, inconspicuously whispering into your ear to meet him in his study at midnight. If everyone else in the house was asleep, he could have you all to himself for hours. As long as the two of you ended up in your respective bedchambers by dawn, no one would be any wiser.

While waiting for the clock to strike twelve, Anthony tried to keep himself busy by going over a few papers, but eventually the dry scratching of his quill and the flickering light of the candle beside him began to make his head spin. Tossing the pen to the side and rubbing his face with his hands, the door finally creaked open. Leaning back in his chair, a smirk grew on Anthony's face at the sight of you shutting the door behind you.

"Took you long enough." he quipped, gazing at you with tired eyes. You returned his smile and approached the desk.

"It is better to be safe rather than sorry, my lord. I did not want to risk someone catching me outside of my chambers like this~" Your hand began to fiddle with the hastily-tied knot on your robe. With a light tug, the robe was untied and fluttered open to reveal that you donned only a chemise under it.

Anthony sucked in a breath, dark eyes trailing over your figure. Yes, he had seen you in less before, but you looked too damned stunning in everything you wore, no matter how many layers it consisted of. Even at the social events both of your families "coincidentally" attended, he could not tear his eyes away from you.

You stepped closer to his side, his hand wasting no time in settling on your hip. He was looking at you like how a puppy eyed its beloved owner. You kept that analogy to yourself, knowing full well that he would rid it the moment he became aware of it, but it was perhaps the most beautiful look he had ever worn. Your opposing hand came up to graze his cheek before your fingertips peaked into his hair. Anthony's eyes fluttered shut, leaning into your hand and turning to press a soft kiss to your palm.

"Always so eager." you said, smiling down at your lover. You caught the faintest, briefest smile on his lips before he kissed your palm once more with a deep hum.

"You cannot blame me." Anthony's voice was low and filled with passion as he replied, "Not when I have the prettiest lover in all of Great Britain," he paused to squeeze your hip, his fingers digging into the fabric of your chemise, "Right at my fingertips."

"Aw..." you teased, leaning down to meet his lips. Anthony lets out a low moan into the kiss as his hand slides from your hip to around your waist, guiding you down to straddle him in his chair. Your warmth was the comforting sort, the image of you in his lap serving as a reminder that Anthony had you. You were his, sitting so prettily above him, and deep down, while it hurt his pride to admit such, Anthony knew he was yours.

In the glow of the fireplace, the two of you held each other close, hands exploring previously conquered patches of skin. You had tugged his vest open as one of his hands slid under your chemise to grab your ass. His lips had left yours to trail hot kisses along your neck. Your breathy pants fanned against his ear while he suckled your clavicle, wishing so desperately that he could leave a mark. Anthony knew he couldn't. You were out in society, someone the viscount had sworn to never rope into his rakish encounters. The last thing he wanted to do was ruin your reputation and find himself at the receiving end of your relative's pistol.

Anthony let out a low growl, pushing away the niggling reminder that he had compromised you. What a hypocrite he was. Had one of his sisters been in your position, he would have ripped their lover to shreds, but something about you felt different. A warm and welcoming feeling that Anthony had never experienced before. A feeling that was suffocating him as he lifted his head to peck your jaw before guiding you into another kiss.

You yanked at his shirt, ripping the top buttons out of their holes. Anthony groaned as your hand trailed down his clothed chest, grazing over his stomach and inching closer to his waistband. His lips leave yours, pressing a feather-light kiss to your cheek before his own hand slips down to meet yours, expertly unbuttoning his trousers.

Anthony Bridgerton was never a patient man, something you had known since your first night together. He was never selfish — in fact, he was quite a generous lover, always checking to make sure he wasn't moving too fast — he merely found it difficult to hold back at times. You were a drug. Perhaps the only thing that could make him completely drunk, aside from the occasional brandy. As he freed himself from the confines of his pants, he gazed up, his dark eyes shining with a lustful glint as they met yours.

You shifted above him and pulled up the skirt of your chemise enough for him to line up with your entrance. His free hand rested on your hip before slowly guiding you down to take him in. With a groan, he squeezed your ass as you situate yourself in his lap. His hands slid up to your hips, urging them to roll toward his.

Anthony held you close, enough for him to lean forward and mouth at your clothed chest. You always felt like heaven, so hot and tight. You made him feel alive. Anthony groaned against your chest as his fingers dug into your skin, mirroring the new grip you had on his shoulders. Your soft moans against his ear spurred him to help quicken your grinding, guiding you along the length of his cock.

Before you had met the viscount, you had known of his rakish ways from Whistledown's column. The woman had never been wrong so you had no reason to disbelieve her reports on Anthony's past conquests. Opera singers, actresses, several women in London's brothels, he had allegedly bed them all. He was the biggest rake in all of Britain, yet as he held you tight and fucked into you as if he loved you, you couldn't bring yourself to regret meeting him. It could have been your inexperience in these sorts of encounters, but you could have sworn the Anthony Bridgerton you saw during these nights was a better man than the one Whistledown knew. He was always so attentive and skilled and beautiful and...

You contracted around him, ripping a gruff moan from your lover's lips, his gaze focused on your connection as he controlled the movement of your hips. His short nails bit through the thin cotton of your chemise, his own hips thrusting up to meet yours.

"Fuck..." Anthony groaned almost too quiet for you to hear. He always found it hard to last longer than you, yet another difference between you and his past lovers. He was already close and, judging by the way your moans took on a higher pitch, you were not far behind. One of his hands left your hip to slip under the bunched front of your dress, thumbing your clit in the exact way he knew you liked.

You squeaked out a moan, your grip on the back of his shirt hardening. "Anthony...Oh god, Anthony..." you repeated his name like a prayer.

Suddenly, your orgasm hit, stilling your hips and moaning into his shoulder. Like he always did, Anthony coaxed you through your release, continuing his ministrations and pressing soft kisses to the side of your head. Once your moans subsided, the hand on your clit left to rest on your back. You kept your face buried in his shoulder as he panted into your ear, his own sounds growing closer together as he chased his release.

You lifted your head enough for Anthony to steal your lips again. With another groan, he thrusted up into you one last time before his come began to fill you. He held you tightly against him as he deepened the kiss.

You moaned and weaved your hand into his hair. You didn't want the kiss to end. The moment it did meant your time with Anthony was coming to an end. You would have to return to your bedchamber alone, knowing the man you had accidentally started falling for was under the same roof.

Meanwhile, Anthony had no plans of letting you go once leaving your lips to catch his breath. He glanced to the nearby clock. It was only one in the morning, plenty of time to keep you locked in the study with him. He should be free to have you until six, when the maids would begin wrapping their wake-up calls on the residents’ doors. After only a few gulps of air, Anthony's lips were back on yours, keen on having you in every position he's dreamed you in.

Anthony Bridgerton never planned on catching feelings. Hell, his entire plan for the season was to find a wife he wouldn't fall for, yet as he admired you in the euphoric state he had put you in, he was starting to think his plan had failed.

[chuuyrr]

GORGEOUS — NAKAHARA CHUUYA

⊹ CW(s): f! reader, famous! singer! reader, strangers to lovers, crushing (you fall first but he falls harder), heavy references to taylor swift and her reputation album, 3.9k words

⊹ SYNOPSIS: in which you write your crush a song, and he finds out

inspired by: gorgeous by taylor swift !

applause and cheers flood your ears as you stand before the stage, a smile on your red-painted lips, albeit a little breathless as you bring the microphone to your lips, ready to deliver your speech and express thanks for the award bestowed upon you.

what began as a passion for music and songwriting has grown into stardom, as evidenced by the best female musician award you were now receiving on stage, surrounded by other artists in the business and, most importantly, your fans.

just as you were ready to begin when another music artist, much older than you, interrupted you. you stood there perplexed, but then the much older and taller artist grins at you, almost darkly and mockingly.

"yo, [name]!" he exclaims into your microphone, stealing as he addresses you with such familiarity, "i'm really happy for you. i'mma let you finish, but, she has won the best video award of all times!" he exclaims, gesturing at the other female music artist sitting on the sides, but she looks just as perplexed as you.

"one of the best videos of all time, i tell you!" he says into the microphone again, facing the crowd as if rubbing salt in your open wound, then shoveling the microphone back to you as if nothing happened.

in any case, the sudden interruption of the said male performer stunned the entire stage and audience. as you move about the stage, you find yourself uncomfortably laughing and unsure what to do.

the audience suddenly begins to yell "boos!" instead of clapping and cheers, and your hands shake so much that you nearly drop the trophy in your grasp. the shame seeps deep into your flesh, and the fact that cameras were flashing everywhere and this awarding was also being done live didn't help.

you couldn't find your voice, and the stage appears to be tilting as your eyesight blurs.

your great moment, your glory, vanished in an instant.

your reputation.

as you hold the glass in your hand, you sigh and tap the rim before giving it a quick, delicate spin, allowing the ice to clink against the glass before you drink the burgundy liquid, letting the addictive yet mild taste of fermented grapes strike your tongue and throat.

you twirl the glass in your palm one more as you recall the incident that occurred during your awarding. you recall the dazzling lights of cameras, the gasps and shouts from the audience, and what's more, that very artist who humiliated even stated that you owed him something sensual for making you famous.

a smile tugs at your lips as you shake your head and look at the music playing in the pub. it served as a gentle reminder that this was your current situation.

even if you remember it like it was yesterday, it has been a while since then. customers at the bar are singing along to the fairly spiteful yet powerful tune and lyrics of your song, enjoying the piano and beat.

"but i got smarter, i got harder in the nick of time. honey, i rose up from the dead, i do it all the time. i got a list of names, and yours is in red, underlined—i check it once, then i check it twice, oh!" the crowd of the bar sings, jumping up and about with their drinks in hand.

"look what you made do! look what you just made me do!" they continue to sing the lyrics, some even dancing to the choreography while others were just cheering and such.

your little revenge song appears to have polarized music critics, with some praising your new direction and hailing it as a fierce comeback, while others were disappointed with your change of style from your usual romance-esque and heartbreak songs to a dark electroclash and dance-pop, as well as the hidden message that underpins it.

"huh, that was a nice build-up to a crescendo build in the pre-chorus from the sparse verses," a voice next to you comments.

you blink, your eyes widening and your heart trembling slightly.

shit. did you got recognized already?

you slowly turn your head, and there stands a red-brunet with his hair framing his face and a black fedora on top of his head. he's dressed in a white button-up shirt underneath a gray vest, a black choker, a black ribbon bolo tie kept together with a little silver clasp, an open black cropped jacket with sleeves pulled up at the elbows, black slacks, a black belt dropping off his right hip, and black low-arch shoes.

you can feel your heart pounding. this man appears to be a big deal, possibly like you? was he a music critic, perhaps? you thought you heard him say something about your song, “look what you made me do”, playing in the background, but you couldn't be sure.

but there was something oddly appealing about this man, and you found yourself glancing at his face rather than his suit, and…

ba.. dump..

you feel the blood rush into your cheeks and your heart skip a beat when you notice he has beautiful blue eyes that remind you of the ocean.

your gaze ultimately settles on the creases of his face, from his brows to his nose and all the way to his lips. he is so gorgeous that you find it difficult to swallow the lump growing in your throat, your words becoming tangled in your tangle of thoughts and feelings.

for a brief moment, you've forgotten what you were drinking and thinking about because he—this stranger—has taken over everything in your mind.

when he finally turns to you, allowing you to be face-to-face with him as he sits on the cushioned stool next to you, you shift in your seat, becoming nervous once more.

"are you okay?" he says, and you notice him watching at you carefully, but with some concern, as he notices your flushed cheeks and how you appeared to be a little shaken in your seat.

"wha—?" you murmur out, blinking in confusion.

he blinks back before narrowing his eyes slightly, a look of uncertainty on his face, yet the way he does it is igniting feelings inside your chest right now.

"i asked if you were okay. is everything okay, miss?" he asks again, and this time a chuckle escapes his lips.

"o-oh, yeah. i’m fine, no worries," you exhale, a sheepish smile on your face as you manage a brief fit of laughter. you were still in awe of this man.

you assumed he was a music critic or a businessman wanting to interview you or get you into a deal for collaborations, but from the way he speaks and addresses you, he appears to be neither.

what's more unexpected is that he doesn't seem to even recognize you.

you were already expecting him to start bombarding you the instant he laid eyes on you and sat next to you, but it was something you didn't mind at all. it was a strange feeling for you, yet it was reassuring in some ways.

being famous always meant having eyes and cameras trained on you at all times, which you acknowledge was a touch stifling. you couldn't really blame yourself because you've made quite a name and reputation for yourself with the songs you've composed since you were a child.

you gently sit back, more calm now that he doesn't appear to recognize you, and order another glass of wine from the bartender, who kindly pours you some from the bottle.

"hey, is that a pinot noir?" you hear him speak again, commenting on the beverage you got.

you turn back to face him, "yeah, it is. why?"

"that's a great wine to have by itself," he explains, chuckling softly.

"you seem to know a lot about wine," you smile at him before taking a sip of your drink, welcoming the taste of the wine in your taste buds once more.

"and you seem to have a good eye," he says, smiling. at least, that's how you perceive it. the sort that you'd see from your fans, not the ones that reminded you of bad music critiques and certain people in your life.

he turns to the bartender to order himself a drink, which you see sends a little surprise from the bartender as you hear the bartender fumbling over when he orders a wine called petrus, oblivious of how ridiculously pricey it was.

"you have a problem with me ordering petrus? hah?" he asks, arching his brow at the bartender, and you find yourself giggling at the sound of his tone.

something about the way he spoke when he was agitated, the subtle growl in his voice, was sending you.

"oi, what's so funny?" huffs the red-brunet, staring at you with a little but not necessarily mean glare.

"nothing," you remark between laughter as you sipped your pinot noir, "you just sound like a cute but angry puppy."

"EXCUSE ME?!"

maybe you did drink a little too much that night.

the next thing you know, you're seeing the same man you saw about a week before, and strangely enough, you discovered him in the club doing who knows what.

it was bizarre, truly, but you felt drawn to this man you had no known about. you didn't even know his name when you met him in the bar, so you did what any normal person would have done.

you simply stay far from the crowd admist the blasting lights and music in the dimly lit room because you don't dare to approach him, but little did you know, he was here for a reason, and one thing he wasn't expecting was to see you again the moment he does.

"you again?" he asks as he purposely bumps into you when he walks across the crowd.

"i think i should be saying that to you, mister fancyhat," you say back with a smile tugging on your lips.

his eyes widen a bit at the nickname and for a second he scoffs, "the hell?"

"well, you never gave me your name," you playfully roll your eyes at his reaction, giggling and immediately saying, "i mean it though. your hat is pretty fancy."

"well, thanks," he shrugs his shoulders before asking, "so, would you like a drink?"

"you bet i do," you smile softly with a wink. how could you not accept this man's offer?

"well then," he says, a small grin tugging on his lips, "how does whisky on ice sound this time?”

"sounds good," you remark, shrugging your shoulders, but what he says next takes you by surprise.

"but do me a favor and get behind me real quick, sweetheart," he urges sternly, forcing you to move instinctively to do what he says.

small gasps fill the club at the unexpected ruckus, some even afraid by the red-brunet's sudden cruelty to this stranger, but all settles down when he states that the guy was snapping pictures of you without your permission.

for some reason, even though he was yelling and threatening the paparazzi, the manner he protected and guarded you from them was not alarming to you. it even made your heart skip a beat for some strange reason.

you never imagined that stranger you met could be that interesting. he definitely had a reputation, possibly as big as yours, if not bigger—and you were enamored like a schoolgirl with a big crush.

could he possibly be a spy? or even a mafioso? the possibilities were endless. you had no idea what it could be, but it gave you a rush of thrill and excitement. he was so cool.

"hey, um," you manage to say, blinking out of your sight as chuuya scoffs at the person taking pictures without your permission—you didn't know how to explain to him that the guy he had just nearly beaten up was your paparazzi, but you were grateful.

"what? you okay? that guy was following you, ever since i saw you in here, actually," chuuya adds, pulling you by the wrist to take you somewhere secure in the club, unaware that he was also there for another reason involving his line of work.

"yeah, i'm fine," you admit with a sheepish smile, "more than fine, actually. let's just drink.”

chuuya sighs and scoffs a little, but smiles at you, "just try not to get drunk and make fun of me like last time, okay?"

you can't help but quietly giggle as you recall getting drunk on your wine the last time you met in person at the pub. to be honest, the growl of his voice and the way he says his r's as he becomes irritated at the bartender's answer to his request for a petrus tickles your brain in a hilarious manner.

"i'll try not to then, but no promises~"

"you better not damn it."

from the moment you met chuuya a spark ignited in your very heart. as you spent more time together in secret, the ember grew into a flame, fueled by shared laughter and late-night conversations.

it was in those moments that you discovered the layers beneath chuuya's tough exterior, the vulnerabilities that made him undeniably human.

one evening, inspired by the depth of your emotions, you found yourself sitting with a guitar in hand, fingers strumming gently. the lyrics flowed like a river. each word echoed with sincerity, a testament to the connection you had forged. you wove a tapestry of emotions into the song, from the subtle nuances of his laughter to the way his eyes held the oceans of stories.

lyrics always came to you naturally the minute you felt inspired to write a song, but this time was different.

instead of simply focusing on your reputation, past painful experiences, those who had wronged you, and even past lovers who now serve only as heartbreak and lessons, this time it was all about him.

you found the sweet whisperings of love gently tugging at the strings of you heart. as you navigated the complexities of your emotions, you stumble upon a connection that felt like destiny—a love story in the making.

with pen in hand and heart wide open, you pour your emotions onto the blank pages, each word a declaration of the feelings blossoming within. the verses were a canvas painted with shared moments, laughter echoing in the lyrics, and the subtle nuances of chuuya's essence woven into the melody.

as the melody and chords resonated with the rhythm of your emotions, you realize that in writing a love song for chuuya, you were not just creating another song; you were navigating the path to love once more.

and each lyric became a stepping stone, leading you towards a renewed understanding of affection and the beauty of opening one's heart to another, and it was a celebration of the love that had rekindled within you after everything.

late into the night, you penned the final verses, pouring my feelings onto paper. the melody became a vessel for the unspoken, a silent confession wrapped in the chords of a heartfelt song of bubblegum pop.

it was a labor of love mirroring the evolution of your feelings for chuuya, and as the last notes faded away, you knew you had given voice to the emotions that had taken root in your heart.

chuuya was in his office at the port mafia headquarters, having completed his report for the boss.

he was merely looking out his office window with a glass of wine in hand, a neutral and albeit weary expression on his face, letting out a tired sigh as the radio playing from his desk said the following words just before a new song came on,

"here we have next is a new single from the one and only, [surname] [name], entitled gorgeous!"

chuuya's eyes widen as he hears your very name on the radio. he may have only recently learned your name, but he remembers it vividly, as the song begins.

there was no doubt that was you and your voice singing on the radio, and this song doesn't simply tell about someone who is in love with a new love interest in a promiscuous manner in an attempt to attract the attention of a prospective lover.

“ocean blue eyes, looking in mine. i feel like i might sink and drown and die—you're so gorgeous! i can't say anything to your face.”

chuuya stands in stunned silence as the melody filled the atmosphere when the bridge comes in. the song was a heartfelt composition, capturing every nuance of his personality and the shared moments between you two.

“you make me so happy, it turns back to sad, there's nothing i hate more than what i can't have. you are so gorgeous it makes me so mad. you make me so happy, it turns back to sad. there's nothing i hate more than what i can't have and, guess i'll just stumble on home to my cats alone.. unless you wanna come along?”

the drum beats, synthesizers, and the gentle cadence of your voice resonated with emotion filled the air. it took chuuya a moment to register that the words were meant for him, a love letter crafted in the form of a song.

as more of the lyrics unfolded, he felt the weight of your affection settle in his chest, each note a testament to the depth of your feelings. it was a revelation that left him breathless, realizing that someone had taken the time to compose a symphony of emotions just for him.

the lyrics danced between vulnerability and strength, capturing the essence of your connection. in that moment, chuuya understood the magnitude of your love, and a warmth enveloped him.

chuuya feels his face grow hot, only because of he was too oblivious for a mafioso to not recognize you, to not realize he had been speaking to a famous artist like you out in the open just like that, thinking you were just some beautiful girl in the bar and club he'd go to. no, you were more than that.

and now, going back to it, it makes sense as to why he would constantly find people trying to take pictures of you, as to why you would seem quite tense at times, or even why you would keep staring at him.

"fuck," chuuya curses to himself, "oh, fuck."

the final chords of the song lingered in the air, not long after, and without hesitation, he reached for his phone, fingers tapping with urgency as he dialed your number.

the phone rang, each tone echoing his anticipation. when you answered, he could hear the warmth in your voice, a familiar timbre that matched the melody he had just experienced.

"was that... you?" he asks, his voice a mixture of awe and genuine curiosity.

there was silence for a moment, before you answer, "so you heard it on the radio." you says softly in the call.

as you confirmed it was indeed your creation, chuuya couldn't help but smile, a rare and genuine expression breaking across his face. the connection between you two deepened with every word, the song serving as a bridge that brought your emotions to the forefront.

in that moment, over the phone lines, chuuya felt a profound connection, grateful for the beautiful revelation you had shared with him.

the warmth in his voice betrayed a mix of emotions as he spoke, "it was... incredible. you wrote that for me, sweetheart?"

there was a brief pause, filled only by the static hum of the phone line, before he continued, "i never knew. i... i don't know what to say, but i had to hear your voice, to tell you that it meant everything."

a playful chuckle escaped your lips as you tease him, "took you long enough to connect the dots, didn't it? turns out you've been with a famous artist all along." there was even a lighthearted tone to your words, a mixture of amusement and affection.

chuuya's response was a hearty laugh on the other end, a sound that resonated with genuine delight.

"well, i guess i’m not the fastest at catching on," he admits, the hint of self-awareness in his voice. but then, a sincerity washed over his words as he continued, "but damn, you just made me fall harder for you, sweetheart."

the exchange of laughter and genuine emotions continued, bridging the gap between the revelation of your identity and the newfound depth of your connection. the melody of your shared feelings played on, a harmony that echoed between two hearts that had finally found each other.

excitement radiated through the phone as chuuya declares, "enough of phone calls, i need to see you right now."

there was now a newfound sense of urgency in his voice, a genuine desire to bridge the physical distance that remained between you two at this moment, "where are you right now?"

you share your location without any hesitation, without waiting for another response, he swiftly made his way.

as chuuya reaches the familiar spot, his eyes scanned the surroundings eagerly, searching for the person behind the melody that had woven its way into his heart.

and then, there you were, standing under the soft glow of a streetlamp, a smile playing on your lips as you locked eyes with chuuya.

the world seemed to fade away as he closed the distance between you, the anticipation building with each step. without a word, chuuya pulls you into a tight embrace, savoring the reality of your presence after the emotional journey of hearing your song on the radio in his office.

in that moment, the bustling world around you melted away, leaving only the two of you enveloped in a shared understanding and newfound depth of affection.

chuuya whispers in your ear, "i needed to see you, to feel this. no more hiding behind melodies and phone calls, damn it. just you and me, together."

his arms held you in a comforting embrace as the world around you embraced the quietude of the night. the streetlamp cast a gentle glow on both of you, and the soft hum of the city formed a distant backdrop to the shared moment.

breaking the silence, chuuya gazes into your eyes, a mixture of gratitude and genuine emotion reflected in his intense gaze. "i can't believe i've been so blind to what was right in front of me. how could i have not known who you were, and that song.."

you smile softly, a tender acknowledgment of the connection that had finally blossomed between you two, "i meant every word, chuuya. you have no idea how much i want you."

he brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch a gentle reassurance. "well, i'm done letting things slip through my fingers. i want this, with you," his breathy words hung in the air, carrying the weight of a promise.

and so, beneath the canvas of the night sky, chuuya's lips met yours in a gentle, yet fervent kiss. it was a collision of emotions, a fusion of longing and realization.

as you melt into the kiss, the embrace held a promise of a beginning, a tender affirmation that echoed louder than any song you've written before, and the melody of your hearts played the sweetest tune, and the night whispered secrets of a love that had finally found its voice.

⊹ a.n.: thank god my finals is finally over because i finally got to finish writing this !! *literally cries* i also think i went all out for this one too because it ended up reaching 3.9k words, which is crazy. oh, and to the anon that requested this, i hope you enjoyed reading this one, in fact, all of you who made it this far—i love you and thanks for reading (honestly felt like i wrote a bit too much for this fic but oh well lol) <3

[honeybeefae]

Coronation Day (Eris Vanserra x Reader)

Eris Week Day Two: High Lord

Summary// The day of Eris's coronation is finally here and while everyone is getting ready you realize your mate is nowhere to be found. After searching everywhere you finally find him in the gardens and you see a side of him that he rarely ever shows.

(I’m sorry that these are so short but I hope you guys are still liking them! This fic was one of my favorites to write and I think it’s just the detail and imagery that really ties it in. I also love writing about vulnerable Eris so it has definitely been fun for me! <3 Thank you guys for reading!)

(I also had pictured what the dress, crown, and shoes looked like so here are the references but of course I want you all to picture what you like! It is you, after all :))

Your Dress / Crown / Shoes / Eris's Outfit (but gold instead of silver) / Garden Gates

(Also I listened to Safe and Sound by Taylor Swift while writing!)

@erisweek2023

WARNINGS: None

You look up at the grand clock as the seamstress puts the final touches on your gown, your stomach in knots as you look over yourself in the mirror. It was Eris’s coronation day and everything had to be perfect, including you. The gown was exquisite, the exact dress you would expect from a High Lord’s mate, and your hair and makeup enhanced your entire aura into royalty.

The gown was the color of golden leaves with large sleeves and beaded foliage around the top to pay homage to your court. It swept the floor and had a grand trail, almost like a wedding dress, while the crown that was atop your head matched perfectly to Eris’s. 

“There, my lady, you are perfect.” The seamstress beamed in the mirror as she stepped back, taking in the entire outfit as you matched her smile with your own. “I have never seen a more beautiful and deserving woman to be our Lady of Autumn than you.”

“You are too kind, Cressida.” You blush, stepping off the pedestal and testing out your specially made-heels. “All this beauty is truly owed to you. I was but a blank canvas to your brilliant mind.”

“Now it is you who is being too kind, my lady.” She bows while she gathers her things and walks towards the door. “I will see you at the coronation!”

“I’ll be the one on the throne!” You laugh, waving to her before turning to your handmaidens with a nervous sigh. They all gush over your outfit, their voices intermingling into a crescendo before you shush them. “Have you heard from Eris?”

“Well…about that…” Luci begins, her mouth twisting down as she looks to the others who immediately look to the ground.

“What? What is wrong?” 

“Nothing is wrong, my lady, it’s just-” Luci tries to explain before Nikolet steps forward, finally caving. 

“No one has seen him since this morning!” She confessed, her hands wringing together in front of her. “He was getting ready and when the seamstress came to check on everything he had vanished. They didn’t want to tell you since you were also in the middle of-”

“They didn’t want to tell me that my mate was missing…on his coronation day?!” You raise an eyebrow, trying to control your anger as the girls sheepishly nod. You pinch the bridge of your nose and take a deep breath, shaking your head. “I will go find him, just finish getting ready.”

“But my lady-” Luci tries to interject but you hold out a hand, silencing her. 

“He is my mate. Wherever he has run off to and why he has run off is nobody’s business but our own. Now please, get ready. I will see you all there.” You urge, shooing them, before picking up your skirts and walking out the door.

The castle is bustling with activity while you try to find him. People were running around making sure everything was in its place, that the flowers were set and the food was prepared. You try to look neutral as you pass everyone, barely acknowledging their bows and awes of beauty as you search everywhere. You weaved and waded through the crowds of fellow court members, peeking through the doors of rooms and studies until you stopped at the grand entrance doors.

Where on Earth could he be?

You bite your lip, looking side to side, before you catch a glimpse of sunlight coming in from the window above. As you turn to see its path, noting how it hits the painting of the garden so beautifully, you get an idea.

The pace of your steps picks up as you hold your skirts tightly and all but run through the kitchen, apologizing to the staff as you almost run into the cake. They shout out, wondering where you are off to in such a hurry, but you ignore them as you push through the back doors and glide down the outdoor steps.

Leaves rustle above you as the autumn air greets you like a lover, wrapping around your bare shoulders in a soft caress while your heels click against the cobblestone walkway. The trees grow thicker as you make your way to the very back of the estate, to your and Eris’s small garden of Eden.

Tall stone walls and oak trees guard it from prying eyes, secluding it for everyone except the two of you as you slow your pace and walk through the iron gate. Autumn leaves cover most of the pathway leading to the small bench at the back of the garden where you spot Eris with his head in his hands, the tree above rustling and whispering things you think only he can hear.

“Eris?” You say softly, smiling softly when he raises his head to look at you. He looks beautiful in his dark red suit, golden embellishments lining the wrists and collar, with a white shirt and dark pants to match. His hair was styled neatly, as always, but what stood out to you the most was his pained, troubled eyes. “Oh, Eris.”

“You look beautiful, Y/N,” He says, watching as you walk over to him and crouch in front of him. Your dress rustles against the ground but you don’t pay any attention, all of your focus is on him. “A true Lady of Autumn.”

“What’s wrong, love?” You ask, grasping his hands in yours. “Cold feet already?”

He gives you a small smile and your heart flips. “You could say that…though it is very hard for me to get cold.” Eris chuckles though his voice falls flat at the end as he looks down, frowning. “What if I can’t do this? What if I can’t lead an entire court?”

“You can do this. If anyone can, you can, Eris.” You squeeze his hands tightly, bending down until you catch his gaze. “I have never had as much confidence in anyone leading as I do with you. This court has been through so much and you are going to bring it back to life.”

“This court has been through so much because of my father,” He scowled, standing abruptly while you sighed and stood with him. He began to pace back and forth as he continued his rant. “My father almost ruined this court and I know what the people think of him…what they probably think of me. I am my father’s son and what if, what if I become him? What if that is my destiny?”

The air stood still as he stopped in his tracks, looking at you with fear and sadness and doubt and vulnerability. You had only seen him like this once before when your mating bond had snapped. He hated to show weakness, especially when it came to his family, and your heart broke at his confession.

“What if I am no better than my father? A monster’s prodigy?”

You walk to him slowly and cup his face, caressing his cheek with your thumb as you pull him towards you and wrap your arms around his neck. Eris immediately crumbles at your touch and pulls you as close as he can, burying his face in your neck as your hands run down his back soothingly. 

Something wet falls against your shoulder but you don’t draw attention to it nor to the shuddering of his shoulders. You just hold him as tight as you can while you whisper your truth into his ear.

“Eris Vanserra, I want you to listen to me.” You begin gently. “You are more than your father’s legacy. You are the creator of your own story, the holder of the pen, and right now is the first chapter of it. You have more kindness, bravery, and leadership in your pinky finger than your father ever had.”

His shoulder slowly came to a stop as you continued, pulling back so that you could press your forehead against his and look into his eyes. “My love, I wish you could see yourself as I see you. Because do you know what I see?” You ask, placing a finger under his chin when he tries to look away. “I see a man who is brilliant. A man who is loyal to his court and saved them from war. A man who may hide behind a mask but cares more than he cares to admit.”

“I see my mate, my handsome soon-to-be High Lord.” You smile, kissing his cheek. “The mere fact that you are afraid tells me, tells everyone, just how worthy you will be for this crown. You will do amazing things for this court, for all of Pyrthian. I have never had more confidence in anything in my life.”

“Y/N…” Eris trails off, lost for words, but you shush him with a finger to his lips. 

“And if you happen to falter just remember I will be right by your side ready to set you straight.” You grin, giggling when he nods in agreement. “But seriously, you are going to be a wonderful High Lord.”

Eris takes a deep breath and whispers, “Have I ever told you how lucky I am to have been given you?”

“You could do to remind me more often…” You trail off teasingly. “Perhaps tonight after your coronation?”

He smirked and tried to give you a kiss but you cheekily turn at the last second, letting his lips land on your cheek and smiling when he let out a huff of frustration. You grab his hand and begin to walk out of the garden, turning back to him and saying, “Now, now, High Lord, we mustn’t keep everyone waiting. Come, let’s start this journey together.”

The two of you walk back into the Forest House, smiling and laughing, while everyone looks on in confusion. You arrive quickly at the doors of the grand hall where you can hear everyone talking, wondering what was taking so long. The advisors look worn out as they get in their places, just glad that Eris has been found, while you turn to look at him adoringly. 

“Ready?” You ask.

Rays of sun shone through the windows again, catching him in just the right light to give him an ethereal glow that highlighted his amber eyes and cheekbones. “As long as you are by my side.”

“Always.” You promise, kissing him tenderly before pulling away as the doors open. “Let’s go get your crown.”

As the doors open the applause nearly deafens you, everyone cheering and smiling as the two of you walk into the room and down the aisle. At the end sits two thrones of equal size, both of your crowns sitting on the cushions as you walk hand in hand towards your destiny. 

[celeste444spacey]

FAMOUS SP SCENARIOS: SINGER/RAPPER BF VERSION

Hi loves! I'm back with a fun post for 2024!

So like super long ago i did this poll for more famous sp scenarios and a lot of people voted for singer/rapper/rockstar bf scenarios.

And by popular demand, here you go! Take these scenarios and visualize to manifest your fun little fame life!

BUT PLEASE SERIOUSLY LET ME KNOW IN THE COMMENTS IF YOU GUYS LOVE THESE POSTS IT MIGHT MOTIVATE MY BRAIN TO COME UP WITH MORE !!!!!!

OH and i might get super specific 🤭

and i'm writing a lot of scenarios for my girlies that are manifesting fame for themselves too! So keep in mind you might also be famous in some of these scenarios.

SINGER/RAPPER BF SCENARIOS

Your sp posts a picture of some woman's silhouette as the cover of his new single on his story and fans are quick to point out that it is actually you and trace it back to a rare image from one of your photoshoots

Your sp hires someone who looks so much like you, if not, EXACTLY like you for his music video ( the weeknd save your tears inspired)

You guys hang out at his studio one night and you guys have so much fun laughing all the freaking time and you say something super funny and your boyfriend samples it in one of his songs.

Your bf makes a whole another insta for his photography and 90% of them are just candids of you

You become his muse long before you guys even date. He drops hints about you in his songs/raps. For eg: references from your movie ( actress manifestation girlies), references from your iconic songs (singer girlies) or even just about your looks ( model girlies can use this too!)

You guys release a song together and release a music video and it goes viral everywhere and your sexual tension in the video drives everyone craaaazyyyy (señorita inspired)

You guys are nominated for the same award at an award show (beyoncé and jay z inspired)

You are at one of his concerts in the front row and while he is singing a song that's about you he brings you onto the stage and by the end of the bridge of his song you guys are both at the centre of the stage and as soon as the bridge ends he kisses you (for us attention wh0res).

He releases a song with your middle name being the title ( if u don't have a middle name, just a word everyone associates you with)

You guys write the most heartbreaking song for no freaking reason (taylor swift- joe alwyn inspired)

WELL THATS IT!

HAVE FUN AND PLEASE DO LEAVE COMMENTS CAUSE I WANNA SEE WHAT U GUYS THINK

XOXO

[jennyboom21]

Last week, the New York Times ran a nearly 5,000-word piece about Taylor Swift in its opinion section. The thoughtful essay, by editor Anna Marks, specifically considers the superstar’s creative output by asking the question: What if, as so many of the references in them suggest, some of Swift’s songs are about being in love with women?

Marks is only about the millionth person to suggest that Swift might be dropping clues that she is gay in her work, a theory known as “Gaylor”: Here’s a 2022 feature about the fan theory that ran in Jezebel; here’s an explainer from later that year in Vox that gets into it, which, oh, also references a Vox deep dive from the height of the COVID-19 pandemic on “the queering of Taylor Swift”; here’s a Rolling Stone piece pegged to the release of Midnights; here’s a piece that ran in Slate after the re-release of Red that explored similar theories. I could go on and on. You get it. The Times is not exactly breaking new ground here.

Marks’ piece does stand out in a few ways: It’s very long. It’s in the New York Times, the “paper of record,” and that apparently confers some vague special responsibility to every word it publishes. It does not report on what the fans are saying but instead identifies Marks herself as the fan with the corkboard and red string. If it’s even a conspiracy theory at all, the piece openly muses about its subject: “There are some queer people who would say that … she has already come out, at least to us.”

The opinion piece has “prompted a fair amount of outrage online,” writes Danielle Cohen in the Cut, “where even those of us who enjoy the occasional Gaylor theories found these assertions—and the fact that they were made in an esteemed national newspaper—a few steps too far.” Among the outraged are Swift’s “associates”: “Because of her massive success, in this moment there is a Taylor-shaped hole in people’s ethics,” a “person close to the situation” told a CNN reporter, noting that, were Swift a man, this article “wouldn’t have been allowed to be written.”

Leaving aside that this very same author wrote a piece about Harry Styles’ potential queerness, it’s true enough that Swift isn’t a man. But she’s a cultural phenomenon. Her songs were streamed over 26 billion times last year on Spotify alone. Her celebrity is everywhere you look right now. It has made her a billionaire, and boosted the economy to boot.

[littlexscarletxwitch]

── ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎ 𝗺𝗶𝗱𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗿𝗮𝗶𝗻

paring: florence pugh x fem!reader

tag(s): angst-ish, hurt/comfort, sfw

warning(s): grammatical errors, unedited, mentions of alcohol (don't drink kids lol), swearing

word count: 1,700

note: this was inspired by 'midnight rain' by taylor fucking swift, I just love this song. I tried my best but I don't know if taylor would approve of (💀). I added a marvel reference which I'm kinda proud of. Also, writing angst is so much fun. I'm not a native english speaker, so please let me know about any sort of mistake. Hope you enjoy <3

You were sad, drunk and sleepy.

Sonya told you to go home a while ago, but you were too tired to move for yourself. She noticed that, so she called the only person she knew would come in an instant. The problem was that it wasn’t one of your friends, or any of your siblings, hell, you would have preferred she had called your mum. But it wasn’t up to you.

“She is here for you, sweetie.”

In your half drunk half asleep state you couldn't tell what Sonya was saying. She saw you struggling to understand her words, so she just pointed to the front door of the bar. And there she was. Even in your current state, you could recognize her everywhere. How could you not? You spent hours looking at her, engraving every little detail of her face on your mind. You could tell by the look on her face that this wasn’t how she planned on spending her saturday. To be fair, it wasn’t entirely your fault. Sonya, your friend and bartender, was the one who called her. Although, deep down you thanked Sonya for calling her, even if it hurt you would always love seeing her stupid pretty face. 

“Thanks for calling, Sonya. I’ll take it from here.” Said that raspy low voice of hers, one of the many things you loved about her. 

“Take care of yourself, hun.” Sonya whispered to you and nodded to Florence. 

“Okay, let’s go.”

Now that was embarrassing —being carried by your ex to her car so she could drive your drunk ass home. This was not how you expected to end your night, but you should have thought things through. You should have thought better than getting so drunk that you couldn’t move for yourself. How stupid of you. 

You both were silent the whole car drive, you could read the room, she was mad. But she didn’t have the right to be mad at you, she broke up with you. She had no right to feel anything for you. She caused this whole thing. You just wanted her, you wanted everything from her, but you knew she was a Hollywood star in the making, she was making her own name, how could you blame her? You only wanted what was best for her, so you let her chase that fame. As a consequence, you two fell out with each other. You tried your best to not let her slip away from you, but she had her mind elsewhere. 

Florence never wanted to break your heart, you were nice. One of the nicest people she’d ever met. You meant everything to her, but she didn’t want to hurt you anymore. She knew she had become distant, that she was too caught up with her career, and it did you no good. So she did what she thought was best for you and let you go. It was the hardest decision of her life, but she thought you were better off without her. She thought you would build your life back up again. And when Sonya called her, after a month of breaking up with you, she knew that she had made the wrong decision. Florence wasn’t mad at you, she was mad at herself, for letting you go, for not making things work out with you. She missed you and hated herself for what she had done —what she had done to you. 

She was surprised when Sonya called her, she didn’t expect a call from the bartender at 1am but she knew it had to be important if she was calling her of all people. However, she was even more surprised when she told her you had gotten drunk. You weren’t the type of person to get drunk in a bar. She immediately knew that something was wrong with you. And when she got to the bar and looked at you, she knew you were there because of her. The sad look in your eyes made her hurt ache. 

Once in your apartment, she put you to bed. You thought that was it, you were never going to see her on, except for when she would be on tv. You didn’t like that thought. You wanted her with you. You wanted her to take your pain away, even if she had caused it. 

“I miss you.” You whispered. You hoped she would say she had missed you too. 

“You’re drunk. You don’t know what you're talking about.” she couldn’t take you seriously, not in the state you were in. Even though she really wanted for it to be true. 

“Haven’t you heard that a drunk mind speaks a sober heart? And that’s how my stupid sober heart feels. I miss you, Florence.” Florence’s heart missed a beat. 

Hearing her name falling out of your mouth, caused a revolution inside of her. Truth was she never stopped loving you, but she thought you would be better with someone who wasn’t like her. Someone who could give you their full attention. Seeing you like this, broken hearted, made her hurt burn, since she was the reason you were like this. She caused this whole thing. 

“Okay, how about we talk about this in the morning when you’re no longer drunk, huh?” she needed to leave, seeing you like that was killing her. She was afraid to make things even worse.

“Stay,” you said, so low that she barely heard you, but loud enough to stop her from walking away from you, again. She thought she imagined it, but then you said it again. “Please, stay. I miss you, just come back to me.”

“Y/n, i’m sure you’ll regret it in the morning.” She didn’t want to take advantage of the situation. It wouldn’t be fair to either of you. 

“I need you. Can you at least hold me until I fall asleep?”

“I’m not sure–”

“Please, it's the least you can do.” Even when the only light in the room was coming from your window, she could see the pleading in your eyes. She could never say no to you. 

She lied next to you, unsure of what to do next. Should she say something? Should she do something? She missed this, being this close to you. She missed your scent, even now when she could smell the alcohol on your lips. She missed your warmth, your touch. She wasn’t sure if you were already asleep, she couldn't see your face since you were on your side, but she had to try. 

“I regret letting you go.” There she said it, she thought it would make her feel a little bit better, but it didn’t. The burning feeling still in her heart. 

You turned to face her, letting her know you were listening, she took it as a sign to keep on talking. 

“Things haven’t been the same since you left. I feel hollow, all of the time, as if something is missing. And it's you. I know that I hurt you, and I hate myself for that. I just thought I was doing what was best for you.”

“Did you really think that you leaving me would be good for me?”

“I now realize that, I just thought–.”

“No, I don’t think you actually know. You broke me into a million pieces. The one person that I love the most in this whole word, and you just pushed me away as if I was no one. Do you know how fucked up that is? We were supposed to talk to each other when things got complicated, not just push the other away.” Venom spitting from your mouth, And Florence couldn't blame you. You had every right to be mad. 

“I know I fucked up, big time. But I want to make things better now. I can’t live without you, Y/n. I want you back, I need you back. I’m, I’m not giving up on you, on us. I will go through hell and back if I have to prove to you how much I regret this.” Tears were forming on your eyes, could you trust her again?

“You hurt me.” 

“I know, baby. I know I did,” Tears rolling down your cheeks, Florence hated seeing you cry, especially because of her. “Just let me make it better, okay? Give me a chance to prove myself to you.”

You already knew the second she lied beside you that you would forgive her, no matter how bad she had hurt you. Florence had this power over you, yeah, she destroyed you in a million pieces, but she also could make you hold in just seconds. You needed her just as much as she needed you. 

“Okay.” That was all Florence needed to bring you closer to her. She kissed your tears away, holding you tightly as if never letting you again. 

“Now go to sleep, baby. You must be exhausted.” She smile at you. 

“I’m scared that if I do, when I wake up you won't be here anymore.” You mutter, scared to admit that to her. 

“I promised you this is not a dream, baby. I’m here now. It 's okay. You can rest now.”

You rested your head in the crook of her neck, it made you feel at ease. You have been longing for this feeling ever since the break up. A smile formed on your lips once your nose was filled by her intoxicating scent. You missed this, you missed her. But she was here now, ready to amend every wrong she had made. 

Florence promised to herself that night she would never hurt you again. If things got complicated, she wasn’t going to throw in the towel. She would find a way to make things work. She was never going to give you up. She had peered through a window, all the love she unraveled and the life she gave away, and she didn’t like it, not even one bit. She was relieved when you gave her another chance, and she was going to make it worth it. Because you were her sunshine to her midnight rain, and she couldn’t live without you.

Likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated! <3

-M

[madeofcc]

➯ Simblr question (not of the day hihi):

↳ Do you have real life faceclaims for your OCs? Share them with us ❥ ҉ (If you dont have an OC, pick a sim you liked the most) feel free to ignore this ask if you dont want to reply for any motive ೃ ✦ ✧ ask round!

Hey nonny :) Thanks a lot for this ask ! I actually never really thought about it, except for Destiny but I took some time for you and here we go ... DH3 perfect cast if it could be real :

Want to know why ? Read below the cut !

Destiny / Zendaya : I always pictured Destiny in my mind as a mix between Rue in Euphoria/Ellie from The Last of Us and Buffy the vampire slayer. Zendaya would obviously be the perfect actress to be Destiny.

Aïssa / Angelica Ross : I highly recommend you to watch Pose and American Horror Story to see her at her best ! She really has a powerfull energy and a lot of style. Though she's a bit older for the character, she would totally slay.

Leïla / Camélia Jordana or Lyna Khoudri : Both of these artists are french and arabic and both of them can be as sweet as super badass so they would be the perfect choice.

Milo / Logan Lerman or younger Jake Gyllenhaal : Both of them have brown hair and bright eyes. Also, totally random but I wouldn't mind seeing them be a gay man :p Jake did it already perfectly once so ...

Hiro and Renji / Manny Jacinto : I know he's not even japanese (but does Hollywood really care ?) but I really love how sweet and tough he can be. So perfect for the both of them.

Chloe / Nicola Coughlan : I know we see her a lot because of Bridgerton lately (and good for her !) but I discovered her talent watching Derry Girl and Barbie and she's absolutly perfect everytime !

Mindy / Jenna Ortega : I actually wanted Mindy to look like Jenna because I couldn't picture someone else for this part. Jenna has become a new horror queen and I can't wait to see what she'll do next. One of my favourite actress from this generation.

Julia / Taylor Swift Reputation mode : I always pictured Julia as Taylor's evil representation of herself. This image actually really amuse me and I wanted to play with the "perfect highschool bitch" archetype for the best of the story. Also, Taylor would totally slay in this part. I forgot to include Emma Robert as Chanel Oberlin in Scream Queens, main reference for Julia's mind and behaviour !

Paul / Glenn Powell as Chad Radwell in Scream Queens : If Julia is Chanel then her boyfriend must be Chad right ? So Paul is basically based on this character but with a sweeter and cleverer side I guess this time :p

And that's all for now I guess :) Thanks a looot for asking ! I will give you more lore about DH3 because I put a lot of references everywhere

[sagesolsticewrites]

Sweet Nothing | Austin x Reader

You serve as a sweet domestic escape for Austin when the fame gets too much

a/n: I had originally planned this as sort of a sequel to another fic I’m working on right now (working title: Lavender Haze 👀) but this can also be read as a standalone! Highly recommend listening to Sweet Nothing by Taylor Swift while reading ☺️ Reader in this one is fem, referred to as Austin’s girlfriend.

Word count: 928

Warnings: mentions of paparazzi/media being rude, I think that’s it? As always, please let me know if I missed anything!

Please like/rb if you enjoyed! 🤍

Masterlist | add yourself to my taglist!

Austin sighs as he enters the apartment, kicking off his boots at the door. He had just wanted to go for a walk and enjoy the cool fall weather, but the paparazzi had been particularly aggressive today, and while he’d tried to avoid them as politely as possible, it had turned his mood sour as vinegar. 

His heart lifts as the sweet smell of… what was that, cinnamon?… reaches his nose, and he follows it to the kitchen to find you at the stove, removing what looks to be the first of several batches of cookies from the oven. You haven’t noticed him yet, and he takes a moment to drink you in: your hair is thrown up in an adorably messy bun, a maroon apron tied around your waist, remnants of flour scattered on your hands, in your hair — pretty much everywhere, from what he can see — and he practically melts as you start humming along to the song crooning from the speaker on the counter. 

“And I’m crazy for loving you,” Patsy Cline croons from the speaker as you hum along, transferring cookies to the wire rack you have set up nearby, and it’s such a sweet, soft, domestic scene that Austin’s almost afraid to move, afraid that he’ll break whatever spell is at work here. As much as he loves your attention, he loves these moments, too: the simple ones, where you’re not Austin Butler’s Girlfriend, you’re just Y/N, puttering around the kitchen on a cozy fall day.

Inevitably though, you turn around and practically jump out of your skin once you catch sight of him leaning against the wall at the entrance to the kitchen. You recover quickly, the startled expression on your face melting into a bright smile as he approaches you.

“Hey, I didn’t hear you come in!” You greet him brightly, leaning up onto your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek, “How was your walk?”

“It was alright,” he chuckles, quickly changing to topic, “Whatcha working on here?”

“I found a recipe for gingersnaps, and today seemed like a good day to try it out,” you explain cheerfully. You keep your eyes on him, scanning his expressions carefully, and something tender flashes across your face.

“Did something happen while you were out?” You ask gently, setting down the spatula still in your hand and turning to give him your full attention.

He should’ve known he wouldn’t be able to hide his sour mood from you; you’ve gotten very good at picking up on if he’s feeling down, no matter how hard he tries to hide it. 

“Just the paps,” he shrugs, allowing some of the gray mood he’s in to show through, “They were more… I dunno, aggressive? Today for some reason.”

You let out an aw and pull him in for a hug, “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

He shakes his head from where it’s resting on your shoulder, stray strands of hair that came free from your bun tickling his nose.

“It’s not a big deal, I mean… it’s kinda what I asked for, being an actor, right? But it’d be nice to just take a walk in peace every now and then.” He says lightly, though some of the bitterness seeps through in his voice.

You pull away abruptly and take his face in your hands, forcing him to look into your eyes.

“Austin, listen to me,” you say gently but insistently, “Just because you’re a little famous,” your voice lifts to a teasing lilt for a brief second before returning to its urgent tone, “doesn’t mean you don’t deserve some sense of privacy, or at the very least the chance to walk around without a bunch of people with cameras hounding you. You got that?” Your eyes search his until he nods in understanding, “Good. You deserve to have a normal life, don’t forget that.”

Well-intentioned lecture over, you hop up to sit on the counter, picking up the spatula again. “Wanna help me with these?” You ask, gesturing with the utensil to the remaining cookies on the tray.

Instead of answering, Austin steps forward and wraps you in a hug. Though you’re eye-level with each other now, thanks to the height of the granite counter, Austin dips to rest his head on your shoulder, his nose brushing against your neck. He closes his eyes and inhales, taking in the scent of brown sugar and cinnamon mixing with your vanilla lotion to create what might possibly be his favorite scent on Earth.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” He breathes against your skin. 

He doesn’t need to say for what.

“Always, Aus,” you whisper in response, lips brushing a gentle kiss to the shell of his ear as your hand comes up to stroke through his hair.

The two of you stay like that for a while, wrapped in a gentle embrace in the kitchen that smells like all the good things in the world put together, only stepping apart when the oven timer goes off to announce that the next batch of cookies is done.

Without prompting, Austin takes out the tray, all traces of his previous sour mood gone as the two of you dance around each other in the kitchen in a perfect display of sweet domesticity.

The outside world might be constantly demanding things from him — the price he had to pay for his dream career — but he could always count on coming home to you: the one person who asked for absolutely nothing but his love, which he happily gave freely and unconditionally.

Taglist: @queenslandlover-93 @anangelwhodidntfall @austin-butlers-gf @butlersluvbot @killerqueenfan @kittenlittle24 @beauvibaby @kingelviscreole @justjacesstuff @sweetheartlizzie07 @coldonexx @londonalozzy @kaycinema @annamarie16 @adoreyouusugar @djconde58 @mirandastuckinthe80s @luke-my-skywalker @tubble-wubble @apparently-sunshine @kisseskae @whotfatemywaffles @gyomei-tiddies @friedwangsss @shynovelist @sassy-ahsoka-tano @she-is-juniper @hallecarey1 @adoreyouusugar @iheartcbe @nora-nexus-34 @finelineskies @dontbesussis @fangirl-imagines

[parkitaco]

hi!! i just wanted to say i love your fics and i love you so so much for writing them and i hope you’re having the best day ever if it isn’t too much of a bother can i ask for 19, 22, (taylor swift reference fr) 27 and 55 for the touch prompts?? i’m sorry 😭😭 that’s so many but thank you!! have the best day ever!!

thank you so so much <33 ficlet below the cut :-))

Will has long been adamant that school dances are pointless and boring, and prom is no exception, but he has to admit, this one is maybe slightly less so.

This fact is mostly to do with the fact that he’s here with Mike Wheeler, aka the cheesiest, sappiest person on the planet, who also happens to be Will’s boyfriend, and that’s- that in and of itself is probably enough to turn any typically-shitty experience into something magical. 

They can’t dance together, of course, not in the way Will wants to, because this is Hawkins and two boys dancing together is basically a death sentence, but he can lean into Mike’s side, and he can shoot him small, secret smiles when their friends aren’t looking, and it’s not a lot, okay, but it’s more than he’s ever had before so he’s willing to take it.

They argue mindlessly with the Party about something, and when the two of them ultimately win out over Dustin and Lucas, Mike holds his hand up for a high five that lingers a beat longer than strictly necessary. If they were alone, Will thinks, locking eyes with Mike and shooting him a small smile, he’d lace their fingers together, maybe tug Mike in for a kiss, tuck his face away against Mike’s shoulder. But they’re in public, and it’s prom night and their friends aren’t even supposed to know about them, so he settles for the glancing contact of Mike’s palm against his, and everything is okay.

They dance to bright, poppy music together, arms brushing as they jump around with their friends, and Mike sings along in a loud, obnoxious voice, and Will rolls his eyes at him, and it’s okay.

They chat with classmates side-by-side, arms bumping, and Will wants to wrap his arm around Mike’s waist, but he can’t, so he presses his elbow against Mike’s instead, and Mike presses back, and it’s okay.

Then a slow song comes on, and Lucas and Max pair off, and El and Dustin arrange some sort of platonic dancing deal, and suddenly it’s not okay. There are couples everywhere, boys in stuffy suits and girls in flowing dresses, and they’re dancing, and Will doesn’t care about prom, he really, truly doesn’t, but there’s a lump in his throat anyway, and he mumbles an excuse about needing air before fleeing the scene.

Will slips outside quietly, the cool night air welcome against his reddened cheeks, and takes a deep breath as he leans against the outer wall of the school. It’s been months of this, the secrecy and the stolen glances and the sweet moments behind closed doors, and some part of Will almost doesn’t mind it. He likes having Mike all to himself, likes having such a wonderful secret to share with him, but there’s a big difference between having a secret for the sake of having one versus having a secret because you don’t have any other choice.

And Will’s lucky, he knows - his family knows the general idea of the thing, even if maybe not so much the Mike aspect of things, and they support him. Will knows that, eventually, when he and Mike tell their friends the truth, they’ll be supportive too. He just- he gets tired sometimes, of having to question that support in the first place.

“Hey.”

Will jumps, leaning away from the wall as Mike appears in front of him, hands tucked into his suit pockets and smiling sympathetically at him.

Will huffs out a breath, managing a small smile back, and Mike steps closer, in the safe darkness of the outdoors. “Hi,” Will murmurs, as Mike reaches out and links his pinky finger through Will’s, just lightly enough that he could play it off if someone walked out here right now. 

“You okay?” Mike asks, because he is sweet and kind and perfect and Will- Will wants to shout his love for him from the rooftops, in all honesty. It kills him a little that he can’t. 

He takes a shaky breath. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he gets out, and feels it when Mike’s eyes narrow at him, seeing through him like always, “I- sorry, I’m being stupid.”

Mike presses his lips together, glancing back at the gym doors, unmoving and solid, and all at once he’s lacing his fingers through Will’s properly and pulling him close, public environment be damned as Will’s chest bumps against his lightly. “You’re not stupid,” Mike says, with a quiet sort of conviction that leaves no room for argument, “This sucks.”

Will huffs a laugh, pushing aside and anxieties about being spotted as he lifts a tentative hand to Mike’s neck. “Yeah, it kind of does. I mean, I don’t even care about prom but it’s-”

“The principle of it,” Mike agrees with a grimace, free arm wrapping around Will’s waist, “I know.”

Will hums in agreement, and he tilts forward to rest his forehead against Mike’s shoulder, pushing down the lump in his throat and focusing instead on the sweet scent of Mike’s cologne, the gentle sway of him in Will’s arms as they move just slightly to the music drifting from under the gym doors, not dancing and not not dancing but something in between. Boys like them always have to exist in neutrality, Will thinks bitterly, before deciding it’s not a productive thought and pushing it away. 

Mike releases a quiet breath, hand pressed firmly against Will’s side. “One day,” he says softly, lips brushing the top of Will’s hair, voice soothing every last one of Will’s nerves, “We’re going to leave Hawkins, and we’re going to go to some big city that has way bigger things to worry about than whether two boys are dancing together, and we’re going to be- free, okay? Three more months of this shit and then we get to be done with high school forever, and I know that it doesn’t make up for the bad stuff right now but- one day we’re going to go to some event, and we’re going to wear suits that aren’t hand-me-downs from family members and we’re going to dance together and- and the world is going to be better, so. We just have to make it a little longer.”

Will takes a shaky breath, face pressed firmly against Mike’s shirt, and a few stray tears escape into the fabric as he nods, clinging to Mike’s hand like a lifeline. “Yeah,” he whispers into Mike’s chest, and he’s not going to cry for real, he’s not, but- it just sounds nice, is all. Being free. “Yeah, we’re- we’re gonna be okay.”

“Of course we are,” Mike murmurs, a smile in his voice. “We’ve survived way worse, right?”

“Right,” Will laughs, lifting his face from Mike’s shoulder, and Mike smiles sweetly at him as he lifts their joined hands to his lips, kissing Will’s knuckles as his thumb traces gentle circles over the lines of Will’s palm, and it’s-

-not enough, Will decides, and just for tonight he’s reckless, pulling Mike in by the front of his jacket and, after one more quick scan to make sure no one’s watching, presses their lips together.

It’s short and sweet, because it has to be, but it still feels like a small victory when Mike hums against his mouth, swiping his tongue over Will’s lip before pulling back and smiling at him.

“I love you,” he whispers, hand still in Will’s, “It’s gonna get better.”

“I love you too,” Will replies, quiet in the night, “And I know it is.”

---

Will’s only half-awake to hear the Party’s conversation later, when they’re all curled up in Mike’s basement half-watching a movie and recounting the night. His head rests on Mike’s shoulder, remnants of the bravery from earlier manifesting, and it’s- a good place to be, he thinks. Mike is warm, and his hand rests just beside Will’s knee, close enough to brush his thigh but not quite, not daring. They’re being incriminating, probably, but Will can’t find it in himself to care as he drifts in and out of sleep.

“Are they asleep?” Dustin murmurs quietly, shifting on the floor near Will’s feet, and Will can only assume that Mike is drifting off too, from where his head is resting over Will’s.

“I think so,” Max replies quietly, more somber than usual, “Don’t- let’s not bother them, okay? Not tonight.”

There’s soft murmuring, and if Will were more awake he’d try to parse out the meanings, figure out if he’s been found out, but he’s relaxed, with Mike beside him, and it’s just their friends. He lets this one go.

“-tell us eventually,” El is saying, from where she’s seated beside Will on the couch. “When it is safe, right?”

“Yeah,” Lucas agrees quietly, and then there’s a soft weight being placed over Will and, presumably, Mike, one of the throw blankets that’s kept in the corner of the living room. “Let’s- give them some space.”

Dimly, Will’s aware of the sounds of four people climbing to their feet, switching off the light and heading up the stairs to head home, and the anxious, scared part of him wants to wake Mike, to tell him that they know or maybe we should tell them or something along those lines, because he wants to tell the Party, actually, he realizes. He wants them to know for certain. He shifts, Mike’s breath warm against his face as he readjusts into Mike’s side, scooting closer now that their friends are gone, and he’s about to speak when Mike’s arm wraps around him, and he draws him in closer, and Will forgets what he was so stressed about.

“Love you,” Mike mumbles, half-asleep.

Will can stress in the morning, he decides, and settles more comfortably into his boyfriend’s side. 

“Love you too, Mike.”

[jakeperalta]

not a gaylor but i also don't know why but travis+taylor seems sooooooo fake to me???

and neither of these people need it so again i'm left like whaaa???

but something about it just seems soo not genuine and idk overplayed? maybe it's the attention that they get (which is mostly not their fault but sometimes i don't get how taylor can be so private in some situations then have papwalks that conveniently all make her and her friend of the night look good)

and i don't dislike her for it cause kudos to her for knowing what narrative she does want to partake in but idk maybe i see too much celebrity theories on the interwebs

I don't think it's fake in that I do believe they are genuinely dating, but I don't think it's much of a conspiracy theory to also acknowledge that they're no doubt well aware of how they can work the publicity of it all. and whilst people are always like "she doesn't need a man to be famous!" or whatever, obviously it's not about being more famous but there's still a clear benefit — leading up to an album drop there's photos and articles of her everywhere (because we all know that relationship gossip gets more engagement than any other celeb news), most of which frame her as cool/fun/hot/aspirational and also plenty of which will incorporate promo (like how articles will bulk out their content with a mention of 1989tv coming out soon or refer to her as like "the shake it off hitmaker"), plus there's a bit of image management following all the bad press from matty — a lot of people were very critical of her for that (and imo the way it was handled was a whole mess too) but now if anyone looks back at the tour the memorable guy who she invited to shows and shouted out on stage is going to be travis instead. then the benefits for him are obvious (suddenly people outside of nfl fans care about him and his podcast — at the start of the year I'd never heard of him and now I know which drinks company he invested in because we conveniently saw taylor drink it).

like you say I don't dislike her for it, I just think ultimately when the clear choice is made to be so public that does mean there's an interplay between taylor (girl who's smitten with her new guy) and the Taylor Swift brand that she and her team project

[penroseparticle]

1, 2?

Unironically I knew you would ask me the two best questions on this whole damn list, thank you Izzy for being the GOAT.

Song of the year? God what songs even came out this year. I don't think this year was a year where new music happened for me. (One of the biggest hits this year was... Fast Car. Do you remember that??? What???) I'm a little tempted to say Fast Car, but that's cheating on Ms. Tracy Chapman, who is unimpeachably the best version of the song (And wouldn't it kind of suck if the song of the year was just. An inarguably well done but ultimately less meaningful rendition of a song from like 45 years ago) If I can pick songs that I encountered this year but didn't come out this year, I could go on for a while. Lonely by Jamila Woods, All My Girls Like To Fight by Hope Tala, Get Down by Woozy. I think Van Gogh by Mette is great but not the song of the year for me, certainly. Rush by Troye Sivvy? It's more honest but doesn't feel right to me totally. Is It New Years Yet has new toy syndrome, AND it's a holiday song, AND it's a Sabrina Carpenter song that complains about overplayed music. Like. Self aware much? And also means it can kick rocks because that is NOT song of the year material. But I like music with a groovy influence, I'm a little corny, and I can't lie about this kinda thing. I categorically refuse to put Build a Boat on my top anything list, regardless of Spotify telling lies about my listening habits. (This is me lying about this kinda thing). I don't want to repeat a year in review song, either, which kinda makes this harder. I guess I gotta give it to You Wish by Flyana Boss, because it's the only song that's not 1. on my year end list, or 2. a song that had a reservation/caveat/well, actually attached to it.

Album of the year? My two top albums of this year were Something To Give Each Other and Jaguar II, but I have to give it up to Victoria Monet honestly- I didn't take to a piece of music this fast since when I saw Young Empires open for Reptar and fell in love on the first song of the set. I listened to Smoke and I was hooked- maybe it's the drug culture references but joyful and openly honest, maybe it's the slick production and variety on the album, maybe it's that it's not afraid to be goofy as hell ("I'm so deep in my bag, like a grandma with a peppermint" is quite possibly an all timer goofy lyric that still hits the right timber for the braggadocio it's placed as in the song, "It's a bisexual blunt it can go both ways" is just. so fuckin stupid, I love it.), maybe it's the features (Lucky Daye? EARTH WIND AND FIRE???), maybe it's the touch of old hollywood glamour at the end and the clear love of motown sensibilities juxtaposed with her talking about her 4K titties. I don't know man, it just rewired my brain but in a good way. More than that, Victoria made me cognizant of her in the stuff I already liked. Like. She has writing credits/backing vocal credits for Ariana Grande. I CAN HEAR HER IN THE SONGS SHE HELPED WRITE. She's goofy and sexy and has some fun production preferences, and I can hear her sometimes now even when she's composing/producing for other artist. I haven't been able to peg a pop writer this hard since good ol' jackie, and that's because he's everywhere and also in like 3 solo projects and also Taylor Swift's silver bullet. But like I can directly point to how much she worked on Thank You Next and the all time greatest Ariana album, Dangerous Woman. She helped write Body Count, Sin City, On The Way... all songs I liked by other artists, but didn't realize who, you know, helped make. This is not to say I didn't love Troye Sivan this year- and both these artists made my year end retrospective. I really dig Troye's album (Though I run into the issue I have with a lot of albums where I like but don't love the second half of it, which is why Victoria took the W.). Give the songs In My Room or What's The Time Where You Are a listen for sure. It's just. so hard to find an album you unironically vibed with. Unashamedly and openly. I honestly don't care if anyone else likes this album, because I loved it. I'll stream it enough for all of us, a bitch might buy it on vinyl Anyways sorry for running on so long, it's Jaguar II by Victoria Monet, because if we have to say Goodbye, let's make it a Good Bye is something I want to live by now that I've heard it.

[ellegreenawayslover]

for the meta author asks 1, 18 and 20 :)

1. Tell us about your current project(s) - what's it about, how's progress, what do you love the most about it?

I have more, but 3 that I'm working on more right now.

The first is the 7th chapter of Hope. I'm a little stuck but also really excited about it because this fic is my baby. I have a couple of ocs in here that have become so dear to me, so it is even more special to me. Also, this is the Elle fic I wanted to read about what happened after the fisher king and when she left, and I got to the point where I can write her being soft and happy, so I love getting to write a happy ending for her because she deserves it.

The second one I've been working on a lot recently is an Elle/Emily au where they grew up in the same small town and fell in love when they were teenagers, but then Emily left, and Elle wasn't ready yet. 15 years later, Elle works in the bau, and on a girls' night, Penelope recommends Elle a book she has read, and when Elle sees Emily's name on the cover her heart stops. The book turns out to be about her and her relationship, and Elle doesn't know what she feels when Penelope suggests going to a book signing where she will see Emily again. I love it so much and I'm so nervous about it at the same time. I just have to change a few little details so I'm super excited.

And the third one is sad jemily fic inspired by Is It Over Now by Taylor Swift that has been on my mind since the first time I listened to it. I haven't written this one in the last couple of weeks, but I think about it constantly, and I have so many ideas for it!

18. Do any of your stories have alternative versions (plotlines that you abandoned, AUs of your own work, different characterizations)) Tell us about them.

YES!!

I have a few of my fics that have a couple of versions in my docs, although they change in just a few things, and they usually end up becoming one if that makes sense.

Also, my Hope fic was supposed to be a one-shot and very different, but I fell in love with the idea of the current version of it. But I might write the other version someday!

20. Tell us the meta about your writing that you really want to ramble about (symbolism you've included, character or relationship development that you love, hidden references, callbacks or clues for future scenes?)

I love exploring Elle’s and Emily’s characters, and I have a few fics that are just about that and exploring different versions and character developments for them. 

In most of my fics, there aren’t many references or symbolisms, mostly because I haven’t written many long/multichapter fics. They have little references to songs, some of my other fics/headcanons, but they are minuscule.

The fic where I have let myself write with a lot of hidden references is in Hope. Like that fic is where I give myself free rein to write however I want, so that’s one of the reasons why it is so dear to me. There are clues for future scenes EVERYWHERE. I have a list of scenes I want to write in future chapters and references to past/future scenes that I need to write. I also have a playlist that I take care of so seriously. The songs are in a very specific order of scenes that they remind me of, and I write some of the scenes with those songs in mind, so the playlist is like a part of the fic itself, haha. I also started to explore different ways of writing, including trying to create images with my writing if that makes sense, but that is a work in progress, mostly in the last couple of chapters.

So, yeah, Hope (is a dangerous thing for a woman like me to have) is the fic where I let myself explore all of this and try new things in my writing.

I forgot about this and ended up being so long haha :)

Thanks for the ask!! <3

[hop3wrlds]

notes (rules).

astrology journal. / hop3wrIds diary.

about me.

my name is ana. you may call me hope.

i've never had an alias or nickname, but recently i had someone refer to me as "hope" on here due to my @ . i found it cute so feel free.

my pronouns are they/she.

if you are able to, please refer to me by my name(s) as it is preferred. as far as gendered terms, they don't offend me but if you can refrain from them, please do.

i am in my early twenties.

currently i am twenty, turning twenty-one soon. as per stated in my notes, this is an 18+ blog. while i don't usually post any explicit adult content, i do not want children on my blog (i do check). i urge y'all to be mindful of this.

my languages are eng / esp

i am latino 🇪🇨🇲🇽 from the southern u.s n am fluent in both english and spanish.

likes and dislikes.

misc. i love: writing. herbal studies. astrology. iced matcha. true crime podcasts. boba tea. novels. algebra. pilates. the newspaper. baking. law of assumption. doing my nails. perfume. running. my best friend. virgos. dinosaurs. scented baths. yoga. manga. reading the back of cereal boxes. winter. flower bouquets. anime. marine life. pinterest. my film camera. snoopy.

music i love: taylor swift. mitski. sufjan stevens. ariana grande. elliott smith. phoebe bridgers. ethel cain. ichiko aoba. wave to earth. the poles. the rose. fleetwood mac. mazzy star. lamp. jpop. boygenius. kpop grps such as, bts (ults), stray kids, le sserafim, ive, enhypen, txt.

series i love: my hero academia. tokyo ghoul. nana. mo dao zu shi. one piece. jujutsu kaisen. sk8 the infinity. haikyuu. the untamed.

cinema i love: ponyo, everything everywhere all at once, love letter (1995), her, la la land, breakfast at tiffany's, spirited away, scarface, the shape of water. singin' in the rain.

dislikes: assholes. bts antis. insects. pickles. any math that isn't algebra. summer. instagram comment sections.

a gentle reminder.

i have been studying astrology as a hobby for the past four years but i am not a professional astrologer, nor will i ever claim to be one. please note i practice tropical astrology and mainly traditional/hellenistic astrology. i do not charge for any type of astro reading, however, please keep in mind i currently do not do full natal chart readings. asks are always welcome.

further details.

i created this navigation for both my personal organization and also to create my own corner of astrological knowledge! if you wish to send an ask, for whatever reason, please do! i would love to make close mutuals and ramble about our interests ♡.

last updated: 1.24.24