#Excellence Of Crafted Gold

[hoshifighting]

Stripper! Reader x Business Man! Lee Chan

— Synopsis: Workaholic Lee Chan's Friday night takes an unexpected turn when he joins friends at a strip club, only to find himself captivated by you, a dancer he can't seem to stay away from. Despite his reservations, Chan finds himself drawn to your company, booking time with you night after night. — WC: 8.8k — WARNINGS: Strangers to lovers, smut, mentions of alcohol, strip clubs, money throwing, booking, fluff, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, fingering, oral (f. receiving), riding, g'spot stimulation, clit stimulation, male sensitivity.

Lee Chan held the weight of being the CEO of the imperium that his dad left at a very young age. Frat parties, hanging out, late-night talks? Nah, not for him. He had to take care of the company and honor the inheritance that fell into his lap. His co-workers could remember very well the times that Chan walked around and around his office, shoulders tense as if he carried the world on them.

His days started early and ended late, filled with back-to-back meetings, strategy sessions, and endless paperwork. The once carefree and spirited young man had transformed into a focused and driven leader, his every move calculated to ensure the success and stability of the company.

Chan's office was a testament to his dedication—shelves lined with business books, awards, and framed photos of his father, a constant reminder of the legacy he was determined to uphold. The large windows offered a panoramic view of the city skyline, but Chan rarely had time to enjoy it. He was always too engrossed in his work, too preoccupied with the responsibilities that consumed his every waking moment.

Even though his life felt like being stuck in traffic on a rainy day, Chan couldn't deny that he loved the results of his hard work. He looked at the luxurious cars parked in his garage—sleek, powerful machines that represented the pinnacle of automotive engineering. 

His closet was a veritable treasure trove of sartorial excellence. Different types of watches, ties, suits, and shoes from every high-end brand imaginable filled the space, each piece carefully chosen to reflect his impeccable taste and status. The feel of finely crafted leather shoes, the weight of a bespoke suit on his shoulders, the precision of an intricate timepiece on his wrist—all these were constant reminders of what he had achieved.

Chan's wealth allowed him to indulge in the kind of extravagances most people could only dream of. He could spend an exaggerated amount of money in a matter of seconds on something completely futile, like a super shaver with a gold coating—exotic and utterly unnecessary.

The week was ending, and Chan listened to the fuss inside his friend group about hanging out this Friday. Jeonghan, seeing his colleagues leaving their desks, noticed Chan still at his desk, tapping his fingers on the glass table. With his bag slung over his shoulder, Jeonghan approached him.

"I know it's a stupid question, but will you come with us?" he asked. Chan was usually seen only at corporate events. Jeonghan couldn't remember the last time he enjoyed a beer with his friend.

Chan looked up, a hint of surprise flickering across his face. He opened his mouth to respond, the automatic refusal ready on his tongue, but something made him pause. He glanced around the office, now emptying out as people headed off to start their weekends. The thought of another solitary night of work made him feel a twinge of longing for something different.

"Come on, man," Jeonghan urged, sensing the hesitation. "Just one night. It’ll be fun. You need a break."

Chan sighed, running a hand through his hair. He knew Jeonghan was right. The constant grind was wearing him down, and maybe, just maybe, a night out with friends was exactly what he needed.

"Alright," Chan finally said, a small smile playing on his lips. "I'll come."

Jeonghan's eyes widened in surprise. "Seriously?"

Chan nodded, standing up and grabbing his jacket. "Yeah, let's do it."

Jeonghan grinned, clapping him on the back. "That's the spirit! You won't regret it."

Before they left the building, Chan paused and asked, "Jeonghan?"

"Yes?" Jeonghan answered, turning to face him.

"Where are we going?" Chan inquired, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

Jeonghan just smiled, a mischievous glint in his eye. "You'll see," he said, leaving Chan to wonder what the night had in store for him.

[...]

"A strip club? You must be kidding me!" Chan exclaimed as he took in the sight of the half-dark establishment. Neon lights flickered and danced around the room, casting colorful glows on the walls. Music blasted from speakers, filling the air with a pulsating beat.

He could see several women with different curves, colors, and hairstyles, dressed in scanty outfits—or sometimes nothing at all. The atmosphere was electric, a stark contrast to the corporate environment he was used to.

Jeonghan laughed, clapping Chan on the back. "Come on, man, loosen up! It's just for fun."

Chan hesitated, his eyes darting around the room. He felt a mix of discomfort and curiosity. "I don't know, Jeonghan..."

"Relax," Jeonghan said, guiding him further inside. "We all need a break sometimes. Just enjoy the night. You deserve it."

Chan took a deep breath, deciding to go along with it. Maybe Jeonghan was right—maybe he did need this. As they found a spot to sit, Chan tried to shake off his reservations.

His friends immediately ordered bottles and bottles of soju, beer, whiskey—whatever the bar had. Chan downed his whiskey in a single gulp, exclaiming, "If my dad knew I was here..."

Chan's eyes widened in surprise. "You're kidding."

"Nope," Jeonghan replied, pouring more whiskey into Chan's glass. "He said every hardworking man deserves a break. Guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, huh?"

Chan couldn't help but laugh at that. The thought of his father, the man he idolized for his strict work ethic, letting loose in a place like this was almost too surreal. 

As some of his friends disappeared one by one, Chan found himself alone on the couch they had booked. "Great," he muttered under his breath, feeling a twinge of discomfort at being left alone in such a place.

Just as he was about to sink further into the cushions, the little stage that he hadn't even noticed until now suddenly lit up. A tall pole stood in the middle, and Chan tilted his head in curiosity.

Then, a pair of really, really high heels appeared, and Chan's throat went dry. You emerged onto the stage, your skin shining under the purple light. The outfit you wore was scandalous, barely covering anything, and Chan couldn't help but notice the little glitters spread on your skin, catching the light as you moved.

You took hold of the pole and began to dance around it, moving with a grace and confidence that left Chan mesmerized. Your movements were fluid and controlled, every sway of your hips and arch of your back drawing him in deeper. It was as if you were performing just for him, and Chan felt like he could get lost in the rhythm of your dance forever.

As you held yourself up on the pole like a pro, Chan couldn't tear his eyes away. He felt like he was being swallowed by the couch, completely captivated by the sight before him. In that moment, nothing else mattered but you and the hypnotic spell you cast over him with your dance.

As you made eye contact with Chan, a devilish smile played on your lips. He looked like a new piece of meat, a pretty young man who had never been seen before in the club. You got down from the stage, the sway of your hips drawing all eyes to you as you walked towards him.

"First time here, sweetie?" you asked, laying your hands on his shoulders. Chan felt like he couldn't breathe with the view of your tits practically in his face.

"My eyes are up here," you said, chuckling as you caught him ogling your chest.

Chan blinked, feeling a flush of embarrassment creep up his neck. "Uh, yeah," he stammered, tearing his gaze away from your cleavage. "First time."

You chuckled, running a hand through your hair as you leaned in closer. "Well, lucky for you, you've got me to show you the ropes," you said, your voice low and sultry.

"You're tense," you observe, noticing the stiffness in Chan's shoulders. Without waiting for a response, you step behind him and begin to massage his shoulders, your fingers working their magic as you knead the tension away.

Chan lets out a sigh of relief, his muscles melting under your skilled touch. "Yeah," he admits, his voice soft. "Work's been... stressful lately."

You nod in understanding, continuing to work out the knots in his shoulders. "I get it," you say, your voice soothing. "But you're here now, and tonight is all about letting go of that stress and just enjoying yourself."

Chan leans back into your touch, closing his eyes as he relaxes into the sensation. "I guess you're right," he murmurs, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

You smile too, glad to see him starting to unwind. "That's better," you say, your fingers tracing soothing circles on his skin. "Just focus on the here and now. Forget about everything else for a while."

Chan nods.

You walk around Chan again, swaying your hips seductively in front of him. His mind races, unsure of what to do next, but before he can even think, you're sitting on his lap, circling your hips against his.

Chan smiles shyly, feeling the heat from your body as you move against him. He can't help but notice the money tucked into the sides of your little shorts, a reminder of where he is and what's expected of him.

It's exhilarating and nerve-wracking all at once, but there's something undeniably thrilling about having you so close, your body pressed against his.

As you continue to dance, Chan's hands hover uncertainly over your hips, unsure of where to touch or how to respond. He feels a flush of embarrassment at his own inexperience, but he's determined not to let it show. Instead, he focuses on the way your body moves against his.

And you smile knowingly, sensing his hesitation, and guide his hands to your waist, encouraging him.

Chan's hands move from your waist to your hips and then down to your thigh, his fingers grazing the soft skin as he explores the contours of your body. His pulse quickens as he feels the warmth of your thigh pressed against his pocket, and he can't resist the urge to reach into his wallet and retrieve a pouch of money.

With a mischievous grin, Chan brings his hand to the top of your head, letting the notes rain down on you like confetti. You laugh, delighted by the unexpected gesture, and give him a big smile.

"What's your name?" you ask, your voice playful.

"Chan," he replies, feeling a surge of confidence.

You lick your lips, your gaze lingering on his. "Nice to meet you, Channie," you purr, the nickname, and Chan blushes. 

[...]

The next Monday, Chan sat at his desk, his eyes fixed on nothing in particular. His mind raced with a million thoughts, his thoughts still consumed by the events of that night. He was lost in his own thoughts, replaying every moment, every touch, every glance.

A knock on his door startled him out of his trance, and he quickly tried to compose himself, pretending to be engrossed in some papers spread out on his desk.

"Come in," Chan called, his voice slightly shaky.

The door opened, and Jeonghan stepped inside, giving Chan a knowing smile. "Hey there, sleepyhead," he teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

Chan felt a flush of embarrassment heat his cheeks. "Oh, hey Jeonghan," he replied, trying to sound casual.

Jeonghan chuckled, walking over to Chan's desk and leaning against it casually. "So, how was your night?" he asked, his tone laced with amusement.

Chan shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his mind racing as he tried to come up with a suitable response. "Um, it was... interesting," he finally managed, his voice trailing off uncertainly.

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Interesting, huh?" he said, his tone teasing. "Well, if you ever need any pointers on how to navigate the world of strip clubs, you know who to ask."

Chan's cheeks burned even hotter, and he couldn't help but laugh at Jeonghan's playful teasing. "Thanks, but I think I'll pass," he said, relieved to have the topic of conversation shifted away from his night of unexpected adventure.

Chan spent the entire weekend consumed by thoughts of you, unable to shake the memories of your encounter at the club. As Monday rolled around, he found himself itching to see you again, the usual routine of work feeling dull and uninspired.

Deciding that today was not the day for extra hours at the office, Chan made his way to the club, a sense of anticipation building in his chest. He arrived at the club, his eyes scanning the room eagerly in search of you.

As he looked around, a receptionist approached him, sensing his lost expression. "Can I help you?" she asked, her voice polite and friendly.

Chan nodded, grateful for the assistance. "Yes, I'm looking for a girl with hair like this," he said, mimicking the length and curl of your hair with his hands.

The receptionist's eyes lit up with recognition. "Ah, you must be looking for Y/N," she said, a smile playing on her lips. "Follow me, I'll take you to her."

There you were, dancing around the pole with a big smile on your face, as if you were truly enjoying every second of it. Chan watched from the corner of the room, his arms crossed and a big smile on his face as he observed you.

The club was crowded, with many people gathered around you, admiring your performance. Chan felt a pang of jealousy as he watched others vying for your attention, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from you.

As the night wore on and people began to leave, Chan noticed you finally catching sight of him. Your eyes met his, and you gave him a playful wink, rolling your hips as you glanced at him over your shoulder.

Chan's heart skipped a beat at your playful gesture, and he couldn't help but grin back at you. Despite the crowd around you, it felt like you were dancing just for him, and in that moment, Chan felt a surge of warmth and connection unlike anything he had ever experienced before.

As you took a break from dancing, you bent down to pick up some notes from the stage floor. Before you could gather them all, Chan approached, leaning on the stage with a playful grin.

"Leave it on the ground," he said, extending a big wad of money towards you. "Take it."

You chuckled, shaking your head. "I didn't even have time for you today," you teased, raising an eyebrow.

"Did I ask?" Chan replied, his smile widening. "Take it."

You couldn't help but laugh at his playful response, taking the money from his hand. "You liked me that much, huh?" you asked, knowing full well the answer. You were well aware of the power you held.

"Hmm, I think I need to see more," Chan teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

You giggled, enjoying the banter between you. "Well, if you want me all to yourself, you'll have to book," you replied with a playful wink.

Chan's eyes lit up at the suggestion. "Can I book all of your agenda?" he asked eagerly.

You stood up, giving him a coy smile. "Don't be greedy, Channie," you teased, enjoying the way he looked at you with eager anticipation.

You glanced down at the wad of money in your hand, barely able to fit into your shorts, and then looked back up at Chan with a playful smile.

"Well, I think I can spare some time for you," you said, glancing over at the clock on the wall. "But just a little while."

Chan's face lit up with excitement as he nodded eagerly. "That's all I need," he replied, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

[...]

As Chan began appearing almost every day, he became a familiar face at the club, a quiet yet eager client of yours. The receptionist would often give you a knowing look, silently conveying that Chan had arrived and had booked time with you once again.

Of course, there were other loyal clients who frequented the club, but none seemed to hold the same level of fascination for you as Chan did. There was a certain shine in his eyes whenever he entered the club, a distinct aura of anticipation and eagerness that set him apart from the other customers.

You couldn't help but wonder why you had let him know about the option to book time with you. Perhaps it was the way he looked at you with such genuine interest and excitement, or maybe it was the thrill of having someone so captivated by your presence. Whatever the reason, you found yourself looking forward to his visits, eager to see where each encounter would lead.

You couldn't help but feel a pang of surprise when Chan didn't show up for his usual visit. It was as if a small piece of the excitement and anticipation that had become a part of your routine was suddenly missing. Without even realizing it, you found yourself scanning the crowd, searching for his familiar face.

Then, just as you were starting to wonder where he was, you spotted him entering the club. Your heart skipped a beat as you watched him make his way to his special seat, right in front of you. His genuine smile lit up his face, and you couldn't help but smile back, the warmth of his presence washing over you like a wave.

With renewed energy and enthusiasm, you danced with even more passion and heart than before. You knew that Chan was watching, appreciating every move, every moment. 

Over the following weeks, Chan's visits became a cherished routine. Each time he arrived, you could sense the anticipation in his eyes, the unspoken hope that maybe tonight would be different.

One evening, as you were finishing your performance and making your way to his table, he finally mustered the courage to ask. "Hey, would you like to grab a drink with me sometime? Outside of here, I mean," he said, his voice full of genuine warmth and a hint of nervousness.

You smiled softly, appreciating his boldness but knowing you had to set boundaries. "I'm flattered, Chan, but I don't hang out with customers outside of work," you replied, your tone gentle yet firm.

A few nights later, he tried again, this time with a different approach. "There's this amazing new restaurant that just opened up downtown. I'd love to take you there," he offered, his eyes hopeful.

You shook your head slightly, maintaining your friendly demeanor. "I appreciate the invite, but I have a policy about not mixing my work life with my personal life," you explained, hoping he would understand.

Undeterred, Chan continued to ask, each time finding new ways to express his interest. "There's a gallery opening this weekend. I thought it might be fun to check it out together," he suggested one night, his enthusiasm palpable.

Once again, you gently declined. "That sounds lovely, but I really can't. I have to keep things professional with my clients," you said, feeling a pang of regret at having to turn him down yet again.

Each time he asked, you could see the slight disappointment in his eyes, but he always respected your boundaries. And despite your refusals, he never stopped coming back, never stopped watching you with that same genuine admiration and respect.

Tonight, you made sure every detail was perfect. Your hair cascaded in flawless waves, and you wore your best outfit, accentuating every curve just right. You were eager to dance for Chan, feeling a flutter of excitement as you anticipated his arrival. Sure enough, Chan appeared, booking the rest of the night with you as he had been doing lately.

When he approached, you greeted him with a kiss on the cheek, a small gesture that had become part of your interactions. "Hey, Channie," you said with a playful smile. "So, what’s it gonna be tonight? Shorts or no shorts?"

Chan smiled warmly, a bit of that usual nervous energy in his eyes. "Actually," he began, his tone softer than usual, "I just want to talk tonight. I want to spend time with you."

You blinked, taken aback. No customer had ever asked for just your company before. "You... you just want to talk?" you repeated, making sure you heard him right.

He nodded, a sincere expression on his face. "Yeah. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love watching you dance. But tonight, I just want to get to know you better. You know, beyond all this," he gestured vaguely around the club.

Still processing his request, you motioned to the couch. "Alright, let's sit then." You both settled onto the plush seats, the atmosphere suddenly feeling more intimate and less transactional.

"So, what do you want to know?" you asked, trying to mask your nervousness with a casual tone.

Chan leaned forward slightly, his eyes earnest. "Everything. What's your favorite color? What's your dream vacation? What do you do when you're not here?" He paused, then added with a chuckle, "I know it sounds silly, but I really want to know the real you."

You smiled, touched by his genuine curiosity. "Well, my favorite color is …" you began, feeling a bit shy. "As for a dream vacation, I've always wanted to visit Santorini. The pictures look so beautiful, like a place out of a fairytale."

Chan listened intently, his focus unwavering. "Santorini sounds amazing. I can picture you there."

You chuckled, the image of you in Santorini bringing a warm feeling to your chest. "And when I'm not here, I love to paint. It's my way of unwinding, letting my creativity flow."

His eyes lit up. "Painting? That's incredible. What kind of things do you paint?"

You shrugged lightly, feeling more comfortable as the conversation flowed. "Mostly landscapes and abstract pieces. It's like putting a piece of my soul onto the canvas."

For a moment, there was a comfortable silence, both of you absorbing the depth of the conversation. Chan finally broke it, his voice soft. "You know, I've always admired how dedicated you are to what you do, I know it's now easy at all. But hearing about your passions and dreams, it makes me admire you even more."

Your cheeks warmed at his words, and you found yourself opening up more than you had with anyone in a long time. "Thank you, Chan. It means a lot to hear that."

He reached out, gently squeezing your hand. "Thank you for sharing with me. I know this isn’t what you usually do, but it means a lot to me."

Chan observed the small figurine on the table, curiosity lighting up his eyes. “Where do you get these?” he asked, leaning closer to get a better look.

You smiled, a bit shyly. “I make them myself,” you said, enjoying the surprise that flickered across his face.

“Really? That’s amazing,” he praised, his admiration evident. You shrugged modestly.

“It’s not that hard,” you replied, still smiling. “They’re always small.”

Chan chuckled, a warm sound that made you feel even more at ease. He started to remove his blazer, and before you knew it, he placed it gently around your shoulders, covering a good part of you. The gesture was so kind and considerate that it made you feel even more comfortable, despite usually feeling at ease in your usual skimpy outfits.

As you nestled into the blazer, you couldn’t help but notice how much more at ease you felt. Chan’s presence was different; it wasn’t just about the physical attraction or the lavish spending. There was a gentleness, a genuine care that made you feel safe and valued.

“I don’t usually do this,” you admitted, looking at him with a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

Chan smiled back, his eyes soft. “It’s my pleasure. You deserve to feel comfortable.”

The conversation flowed easily as Chan began to share bits and pieces of his life. He spoke about his responsibilities as CEO, the pressure of living up to his father’s legacy, and the sacrifices he had to make. His words were carefully chosen, mindful of not coming across as boastful despite his affluent lifestyle. You could tell he was trying to be as honest as possible while downplaying the extravagance.

“And that’s pretty much my life,” Chan concluded with a slight sigh. “It’s demanding, but it’s what I have to do.”

You admired his humility, realizing how grounded he remained despite his wealth. “It sounds like a lot to handle,” you said softly, your eyes reflecting your newfound respect for him. “But you do it so well. It’s impressive.”

Chan’s expression softened, a mixture of gratitude and weariness in his eyes. “Thank you. It’s not always easy, but I try.”

“You’re more than just a pretty boy,” you teased lightly, wanting to lift the mood. “You’re a hardworking, humble man.”

He laughed, the sound filling the space between you with warmth. “And you’re not just a beautiful dancer. You’re talented and creative.”

[...]

The next morning, you were chatting with the girls—your coworkers—as they finished their hair for the night.

“And he just wanted to talk,” you said, a bit incredulously. “He even asked about my favorite color.”

The girls collectively let out a heartfelt “Awww,” their eyes wide with interest and affection.

“Seriously?” one of them, Mina, asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “That’s so sweet.”

“He seems different,” another added, giggling.

“Yeah,” you nodded, still a bit surprised yourself. “We just talked. It was...nice.”

Before the conversation could continue, the receptionist entered the room, a knowing smile on her face. “Ya! Y/N-nie! Your Channie is here,” she announced, her tone teasing.

It was unusual for any customer to visit on a Saturday morning, a time usually reserved for the staff to unwind and prepare for the week ahead. 

“It’s Saturday morning,” Mina whispered, nudging you playfully. “No customers come in unless they lost something.”

“Let him in,” you said, trying to keep your tone casual but feeling the flutter of anticipation.

As Chan walked in, he was met with a scene unlike the usual vibrant atmosphere of the club. The girls were dressed in comfortable clothes, some with bobs in their hair, others doing their nails or simply lounging around.

You were drying a glass behind the bar. He looked around, slightly surprised but smiling.

“Good morning, girls,” he greeted, his voice cheerful. "Good morning Y/N…" He says in a special and tender tone, just for you.

“Good morning,” the girls chimed back in unison, their eyes following his every move.

You put down the glass and walked over to him, a wide smile on your face. “Channie, what are you doing here?” you asked, genuinely curious.

“I wanted to see you,” he replied, his gaze soft and sincere. He seemed a bit out of place in the relaxed environment, but his presence was a welcome one. You could feel the girls watching the exchange with rapt attention, like they were watching an opera unfold.

Chan noticed that you didn’t have bobs in your hair like some of the other girls. Gesturing toward your hair, he asked, “No bobs for you today?”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “It’s my day off. I’m not dancing today.”

The girls exchanged knowing looks, some stifling giggles. One of them, Lisa, leaned over and whispered loudly enough for you to hear, “Looks like someone’s here to see you even when you’re not performing.”

You blushed, glancing at Chan, who seemed equally flustered but amused by the comment. He recovered quickly, his smile returning.

Chan stood there, his eyes filled with hope and a hint of nervousness. "Would you like to spend the day with me?" he asked, his tone gentle and inviting.

You chuckled, a playful glint in your eye. "Hmm, I've already told you about hanging out with my customers," you teased, enjoying the banter.

Before Chan could respond, Mina chimed in from the background, her voice filled with encouragement. "Oh, come on! You should accept it!"

Chan seized the opportunity, smiling wider. "You’re not on your work schedule now, are you?"

That shut your mouth, leaving you momentarily speechless. The girls burst into giggles, clearly enjoying the exchange.

“Well, when you put it that way…” you trailed off, pretending to think it over.

Chan’s smile grew, sensing victory. “So, is that a yes?”

You sighed theatrically, then grinned. “Fine, you win. I’ll spend the day with you.”

“Great!” Chan said, visibly relieved and excited. “I promise it’ll be fun.”

You nodded, your smile widening. “Let me just finish up here, and we can go.”

As you gathered your things, the girls couldn’t resist a few more teasing comments, but it was all in good fun, as Chan waited patiently.

As the day unfolded, Chan took you to places you hadn't had the time to visit in years. You sipped coffee at a cozy café, strolled through the park, and even caught a movie at the cinema. With each passing moment, you found yourself enjoying his company more and more, feeling a sense of freedom and joy you hadn't experienced in a long time.

"This has been the best day off ever," you exclaimed, unable to contain your excitement as you walked side by side with Chan.

His heart swelled with happiness at your words, his smile growing wider. He could have taken you to a luxurious restaurant or shopping for designer labels, but he sensed that wasn't what you wanted. Instead, he decided to let you choose how to spend the rest of the day.

Careful to open doors for you and ensure your comfort, Chan drove you around in his luxurious car, enjoying each other's company and the simplicity of the moment. As he glanced at you from the driver's seat, he couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over him.

"Where to next?" he asked, his voice filled with anticipation.

You playfully pretended to ponder your options, teasing him about having more surprises up his sleeve. Chan laughed, shrugging his shoulders as he drove. You noticed that you were nearing your apartment, and the idea popped into your head.

"How about we go to my place?" you suggested, surprising even yourself with the invitation.

Chan's eyebrows shot up in surprise, but he quickly masked it with a smile. "Your place? Are you sure?"

You nodded, feeling a sense of excitement building in your chest. "Yeah, why not? I'd love for you to see where I live."

Chan couldn't hide his delight at your invitation, his curiosity piqued. He parked the car and walked with you to your apartment building, taking in the surroundings with interest.

Chan's eyes wandered around the apartment, taking in the details of your life that adorned the walls. He saw framed photographs capturing cherished memories – graduations, family gatherings, outings with friends. The images painted a picture of a life rich in experiences and relationships.

His gaze shifted to the plushies scattered across the couch, a playful and endearing touch that brought a smile to his face. It was clear to him that you had a warmth and sweetness that extended beyond the confines of the club where he first met you.

As you disappeared into the kitchen, Chan took a moment to soak in the atmosphere of your home. The tranquility of the space, combined with the personal touches that reflected your personality, made him feel strangely at ease.

In that moment, he realized that he was seeing a side of you that few others had the privilege of witnessing – the real you, beyond the glamorous facade of the club.

As you settled back onto the couch with snacks in hand, Chan joined you, his presence filling the space with warmth. With a mischievous glint in his eye, he began recounting his visit to the strip club earlier that day.

You listened intently, a soft chuckle escaping your lips as he shared the details of his adventure. When he mentioned Jeonghan's involvement, you couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude towards your friend for unknowingly setting this day in motion.

"Looks like I owe Jeonghan a big thank you," you said, your voice muffled as you took a bite of your snack. 

Chan raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "So, Jeonghan is the reason we met, huh?" he teased, leaning closer to you.

You chuckled, feeling a playful energy between you. "Looks like it," you replied, unable to suppress a smile.

Chan's teasing grin widened at your response, and he leaned in closer, his playful demeanor evident. "Oh, so you're thanking Jeonghan, but not me?" he teased, raising an eyebrow in mock indignation.

With a soft smile, you turned to Chan, gratitude evident in your eyes. "Thank you, Channie," you said, your voice sincere as you expressed your appreciation.

Chan returned your smile, his gaze warm as he listened to your words. "For what?" he asked, though he already had a feeling of what you meant.

You took a moment to gather your thoughts before replying. "For everything," you began, your tone heartfelt. "For the moments we've shared, the conversations we've had... Even on the nights you booked me, we talked more than danced," you admitted, a fondness evident in your voice.

Chan's smile widened at your words, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. "Well, I guess I'm just a talkative guy," he joked, though there was a hint of sincerity in his tone.

Chan's touch was tender as he brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his gaze lingering on your lips with a mixture of hesitation and longing. You could feel the tension building between you, an unspoken desire hanging in the air.

When he spoke your name, you couldn't help but respond with a soft sound of acknowledgment, your heart fluttering with anticipation. His next words sent a shiver down your spine, his voice barely above a whisper as he confessed his thoughts.

"I know it's not allowed to kiss the dancers in the club," he began, his words laden with a sense of urgency, "but... we're not in the club right?"

His question hung in the air, heavy with possibility. In that moment, the boundaries that had separated you in the club seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you, alone in the intimacy of your shared space.

You met Chan's gaze, your heart pounding in your chest as you considered his words. Despite the rules and restrictions that governed your interactions in the club, here, in this moment, you felt a freedom that was both exhilarating and terrifying.

With a hesitant smile, you leaned in closer to him, your breath mingling with his as you whispered, "No, we're not in the club." And in that simple acknowledgment, you gave voice to the unspoken truth that had been lingering between you all along.

Chan's hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as his lips crashed into yours. His tongue explored your mouth with a fervent passion, and you found yourself breathing hard, your fingers clutching the collar of his shirt to deepen the kiss.

The truth was, the more you refused Chan's invitations to dinner, the more you denied the gifts he insisted on giving you, the more you avoided his attempts to kiss you—his feelings for you only grew stronger. And now, seeing his insistence on simply having your company, and not just as the girl who would entertain him at night, made you feel all your girlhood feelings again.

Breaking the kiss for a moment, you looked into his eyes, your breath mingling with his. "Chan..." you whispered "Why do you keep coming back? Why do you keep trying so hard?"

He held your gaze, his eyes filled with a mix of determination and tenderness. "Because you matter to me, Y/N. More than just a dancer, more than just a pretty face. I see you, the real you, and I want to know you better."

Your heart swelled at his words, and you felt a rush of warmth and affection for this man who saw beyond the surface. "But I'm not used to this," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm not used to someone caring this much."

Chan's grip on your neck tightened slightly, a comforting reassurance. "Then let me show you how it feels. Let me show you that you deserve to be cared for, to be cherished."

"Show me," you whisper, your eyes locked on Chan's lips. He captures your mouth in a passionate kiss, his lips trailing down to your neck. His hands find the hem of your shirt, and he pulls it over your head. You pull him closer, desperate to feel him, your hands sliding under his shirt to caress his warm skin.

His hands slide to your thighs, lifting you onto his lap, your breasts now level with his face. He glances at the pretty lace bra you’re wearing and lowers the cups, exposing your nipples. He kisses each one tenderly before sucking on one and pinching the other. You melt into him, your hips grinding against his automatically, drawing a groan from deep within his chest.

"Do you know how hard it was to control myself when you grinded on my cock like this?" he murmurs against your skin, his voice thick with desire.

A wicked smile crosses your lips as you continue to grind against him, feeling his erection growing beneath you. "I could feel it, Chan," you purr, your voice dripping with seduction. "I could feel how much you wanted me. I wanted you just as badly."

His hands tighten on your hips, guiding your movements as he presses you harder against him. "God, Y/N, you drive me crazy," he groans, his eyes darkening with lust.

You lean in, your breath hot against his ear. "I want to feel you inside me, Chan. I want you to lose control. Show me how much you want me."

His control snaps, and he flips you onto your back, his body pressing you into the couch. "You don’t know what you’re asking for," he growls, his hand sliding down to unbutton your pants.

"I know exactly what I want," you whisper back, your eyes burning with the same desire. "I want you, all of you."

Chan's lips crash into yours again, more fiercely this time, as his hands work to remove the rest of your clothing.

In a blur of movement, clothes are discarded, and his skin is pressed against yours. He pauses to look into your eyes. "Tell me you want this," he demands, his voice rough with need.

"I want you, Chan," you breathe out, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him closer. 

Chan giggles softly, his breath hot against your skin. "Wait for me to prepare you," he whispers, his voice laced with anticipation. He opens your legs wide, his eyes dark with desire as he lowers himself between your thighs. His lips find your wet folds, kissing them gently before his tongue delves deeper.

The sensation sends shivers through your body, and you let out a soft moan. Chan's mouth works expertly, sucking on your clit while his tongue teases and explores. As you gasp his name, "Channie," he responds with a moan of his own, the vibrations adding to your pleasure.

His hand slides up your thigh, and you feel the gentle pressure of his finger at your entrance. He slips it inside you slowly, his finger curling to find that perfect spot. Your back arches off the couch, your hands gripping the cushions as he continues to worship your body with his mouth and fingers.

"Oh, Chan," you breathe, your voice quivering with need. The way his tongue moves, the way his finger pumps in and out of you—it's all too much. Your hips begin to move on their own, seeking more of the intense pleasure he's giving you.

He adds another finger, stretching you gently, and your moans grow louder. His mouth never leaves your clit, sucking and flicking it with his tongue in a rhythm that drives you wild. You can feel your orgasm building, the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter inside you.

Chan's free hand comes up to hold your hip, steadying you as you writhe beneath him. He looks up at you, his eyes full of lust and admiration, and the sight of him between your legs pushes you closer to the edge.

"Channie, I’m so close," you manage to say, your voice barely a whisper.

He doubles his efforts, his fingers moving faster, his mouth more insistent on your clit. The world fades away, and all you can focus on is the overwhelming pleasure building within you.

With a final, deep moan, you come undone. Your body trembles, your muscles clench around his fingers, and a powerful wave of ecstasy crashes over you. Chan doesn't stop, drawing out your orgasm until you're completely spent, every nerve ending tingling with satisfaction.

Finally, he pulls away, his fingers and mouth glistening with your arousal. He looks up at you with a triumphant smile, his own need evident in his eyes. "You taste so good," he murmurs, crawling up your body to capture your lips in a heated kiss. You can taste yourself on his lips, and it only fuels the fire between you.

"Now," he says, positioning himself at your entrance, "I think you're ready."

You nod, wrapping your legs around his waist, and with one smooth thrust, he fills you completely. 

Your pussy was wet enough, spasming, welcoming him perfectly. Chan's eyes were closed, his face contorting as he tried to compose himself. You reached up and gently held his face, and he opened his eyes, scoffing softly, trying to pretend he didn't almost cum right then and there from the sensation of your sopping cunt wrapping so perfectly around him and the pornographic moan that just left your mouth.

"Fuck, Y/N," he breathed, his voice thick with lust. "You feel so good."

You smiled, your own arousal mirrored in his gaze. "Don't hold back, Channie," you whispered, your fingers brushing through his hair. "I want all of you."

He groaned, his hips starting to move, slowly at first, savoring the way you clenched around him with each thrust. The intensity in his eyes made your heart race, the connection between you deepening with every movement.

"You're so tight," he murmured, his hands gripping your hips as he picked up the pace. "So perfect for me."

You bit your lip, your body responding to his every word, his every touch. "Chan," you gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders as he hit that sweet spot inside you, sending waves of pleasure through your body. "Don't stop."

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he rolled his hips, stopping momentarily before hitting your g'spot with a sharp thrust. He repeated this motion, each thrust more deliberate, and the most sinful moans left your mouth. "Yes, Channie," you gasped, your voice trembling with pleasure, "fuck this pussy with that big fucking cock. Yes, yes!"

Chan groaned, the sound deep and guttural, spurred on by your words. "You like that? Hm?" he panted, his pace quickening as he watched the ecstasy play out on your face. "You like how I fuck you?"

"Yes," you moaned, your nails digging into his shoulders. "God, yes, I love it. I love how you fuck me– ah! Channie."

"So wet... all for me."

Your body arched beneath him, your hips moving to meet his thrusts, chasing the pleasure that was building to an overwhelming peak. "Only for you," you whispered, your voice breaking with a whimper as he drove you closer to the edge. "No one else, just you, Channie."

He growled, the possessiveness in your words igniting something primal in him. His thrusts became harder, faster, each one sending waves of pleasure crashing through you. "Say it again," he demanded, his breath hot against your ear. "Tell me you're mine."

"I'm yours," you cried out, your legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper. "I'm yours, Channie, only yours."

His hips snapped forward with even more intensity, and you could feel the coil tightening in your core, ready to snap. "Cum for me," he urged, his voice a low growl. "Cum all over my cock, baby."

Your pussy throbbed as the aftershocks of your orgasm rippled through you, your eyes closing tightly, mouth falling open in a silent scream. You wrapped your legs around Chan's waist, locking him in place as you rode out every wave of pleasure. Chan hissed, his abdomen trembling, signaling that he was on the brink of release but unable to escape your grip.

You opened your eyes to find Chan watching you intently, taking in every reaction. "Sit," you commanded, your voice breathless yet authoritative.

"Hm?" Chan responded, his expression a mix of curiosity and lingering pleasure.

"Sit," you repeated, firmer this time. He complied, a small laugh escaping his lips.

"Are you going to dom me?" he teased, scoffing lightly.

Instead of answering, you simply lowered yourself onto his cock, making him flinch and let out a whiny moan in your ear, your legs trembling from the intensity of your recent orgasm.

"Fuck," he groaned, his hands gripping your hips. 

You leaned in close, your lips brushing against his ear. "You like that, Channie? You like when I take control?"

"Yes," he gasped, his breath hitching as you began to move, rolling your hips slowly at first. "God, yes."

You smirked, picking up the pace, each movement sending shivers of pleasure through both of you. "You look so good like this," you whispered, your voice low and sultry. "So desperate, so needy. You want to cum, don't you?"

"Yes," he admitted, his voice barely more than a whimper. "Please, let me cum."

You tightened your grip on his shoulders, riding him harder. "Not yet," you commanded, enjoying the power you held over him. "Not until I say so."

Chan's eyes fluttered closed, his body trembling as he tried to hold back. "Please," he begged, his voice raw with need. "I can't... I can't hold on much longer."

"Look at me," you ordered, your tone firm. His eyes snapped open, locking onto yours. "You’re going to cum when I tell you to, understand?"

"Yes," he panted, nodding eagerly. "Yes, I understand."

You imagined riding him since the moment he entered that club, young, hot, with his sleeves rolled up, the scent of masculine fragrance mingling with whiskey on his breath. Feeling this man, needy and sly, with his cock buried deep inside your pussy, spilling all that pre-cum, and fighting his demons not to cum, made you so horny.

 You licked your fingers, circling your clit to help yourself climax, making you clench around him again. A strangled moan escaped his mouth, his eyes were rolling back.

You leaned in close, your voice husky with desire. "You're so close, Channie," you whispered, your breath hot against his ear. "I can feel how badly you want to cum inside me. Do it, baby. Give it to me. Fill me up with your cum."

Chan's hips bucked against yours, his grip on your hips tightening. "Fuck," he groaned, his voice strained with pleasure. "I need to cum, please..."

You smirked, your fingers still working furiously on your clit. "You want to empty those balls for me, make me feel every drop of your cum inside me? Hm?"

Chan nodded frantically, his eyes glazed with lust. "Yes, god, yes. Please, let me cum. I can't hold on much longer."

With a wicked grin, you increased the pressure on your clit, feeling the tension building inside you. "Then cum for me, Channie," you urged, your voice a sultry whisper. "Cum deep inside my pussy."

Chan's entire body tensed, his breath hitching as he finally let go, his cum flooding you with warmth. You cried out in pleasure, feeling your own orgasm crashing over you in waves as you rode out the ecstasy together.

As you collapsed against his chest, Chan wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. You could feel your legs trembling in soreness, his cum still dripping from your pussy, and both of your bodies slick with sweat. Despite the exhaustion, Chan's embrace felt comforting and secure.

He ran his hands soothingly over your back, his touch gentle yet firm, as if trying to convey all his affection through his fingertips. You raised your head to meet his gaze, finding him looking back at you with a mixture of satisfaction and tenderness in his eyes.

You pressed a series of soft kisses to his lips, his cheeks, his jawline, savoring the warmth and intimacy of the moment. Chan smiled in response, his own lips curved upwards in a contented –fucked out– expression.

You summoned the last vestiges of your strength just to tease Chan, circling your hips ever so slightly, just enough to elicit a reaction from his sensitive body. 

"Wait, wait," Chan gasped, his voice strained with sensitivity. "I can't... I can't take it."

He held you firmly against him, his grip almost desperate as he tried to steady himself. The sensation of your hips circling against his heightened his arousal to a point where he felt like he might lose control at any moment.

You couldn't help but laugh at his reaction, a playful smirk dancing on your lips. Despite the exhaustion and the intensity of your encounter, you found his vulnerability endearing.

"Sorry," you chuckled softly, the sound mingling with his labored breaths. "I couldn't resist teasing you a little."

Chan let out a breathless laugh, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to regain his composure. He leaned in to press a gentle kiss against your forehead, his lips lingering against your skin for a moment before he spoke again.

"You're... you're something else, you know that?" he murmured, his voice filled with admiration. "I don't know how you do it."

You grinned up at him, feeling a surge of warmth at his words. Despite the intense physical connection between you, there was an undeniable emotional bond that had formed, deepening your connection even further.

"I guess I just have a way with you," you replied playfully, winking at him before snuggling closer into his embrace.

[philcon-programming]

Philcon 2024!

Do you love Science Fiction, Fantasy, or Horror? Are you a Writer, a Gamer, a Costumer, or a Filker? Are you looking for a weekend of distraction in your life? If you’re in the vicinity of Philadelphia- or more specifically, Cherry Hill, New Jersey- there’s an event coming up on November 22 – 24, 2024 that we’d love for you to come check out. If you aren’t already familiar with PHILCON, here’s what you should know: * We started out as a literary-centric SF convention in 1936, but have grown to embrace all mediums of storytelling (movies, television, comics, podcasts, etc) as well as expanding to cover the Fantasy and Horror genres. Most of our participants are authors, and there will be Readings by them and Autograph sessions all throughout the weekend, in addition to their participation on discussion panels. * While many of our Literary panels are about SF, Fantasy, or Horror topics in general, we also have an emphasis on panels discussing the craft side and business sides of writing, for those looking to develop as authors. * One of our content tracks for the weekend is dedicated to Science & Technology itself, not just how it is used in fiction. * We will be screening several movies over the weekend, and Anime will also be shown in our Anime & Animation room at certain times. * There will be Workshops and Demos for Costuming (including "Fabric Manipulation", "How to Make Foam Armor", "Make-up for The Stage", and "A Pox on Patterns!") and Art (including "Using Alcohol Inks", "Block Printing With Your Own Designs", "How to Make A Controlled Color Palette", and "Making Wire-Wrapped Jewelry"), and if you’ve got an outfit you made that you’d like to show off on stage, we’ve got a yearly Costume Contest. * If you are a Filker- or just enjoy listening to other people sing and play music- Philcon has a room dedicated Filk room, and this year’s Musical Guest of Honor is Cecilia Eng. As Cecilia is not often on the east coast, if you’d like to see her play in person, now is an excellent change to do so without flying to the other side of the country. Lynn Gold, another west-coast Filker, will also be joining us this year. There are also Concerts scheduled for Sirens & Liars, Half a Slime Devil, Brenda and Chuck Shaffer-Shiring, and Sara Henya. * Since the Gaming track moved from an upstairs suite to the “Gallery” room on the first floor, it’s had the literal room to expand the number of games it can run, and we’ve got a bevy of them on the schedule for 2024, as well as a bank of games for you to choose from during Open Gaming hours. There's also a LARP Workshop Series being run by Spectacle INK. * Our Artist Guests of Honor for 2024 are Gina Matarazzo and Matthew Stewart. Each will be giving a presentation on our Main Stage on Saturday afternoon, as well as having their art displayed in our Art Show. * Our Principal Speaker for 2024 is MAX GLADSTONE, and we also have Nghi Vo as our Special Guest. Both will be doing Readings, Autograph Sessions, panels, and a main stage Q&A session. An interactive version of our schedule can be found HERE. While a simplified, static overview, organized by track, can be found HERE. Our LinkTree can be found HERE. We would especially value your support this year, as Philcon’s Covid-19 policy in previous years (which required both mandatory masking and proof of vaccination in an attempt to avoid becoming a super-spreader event as several other conventions had) has led to a slow but noticeable decline in attendance. While masking in public spaces is still heavily encouraged, neither proof of vaccination nor masking are required to attend the convention in 2024. We’d love your help in making this year a success, so that we’re in a good position to bring you all something really fantastic for our upcoming 90th anniversary. We’d also love to give you a great weekend right now, for reasons I doubt we need to explain. Here’s to surviving the next few years! ~ Lynati Head of Programming, Philcon 2024

[themotherofblood]

Ruie, my dear, I was re-reading "The Dragon and The Dancer" and if you are still writing/accepting requests can I get a prequel(before the events of "laut ke ajana") where she dances for Daemon (with some nsfw) please?

ugh first of all, I hope your pillow is always cold, your charger cords never break and may you find money on the streets just for funsises.

second of all!!! Saaiyan Hatto Jao would be such a fitting song, of Dancer seducing Daemon so let’s go!

Daemon Targaryen x Martell!Wife!Reader

tw: exhibitionism? kinda misogynistic but bare with me pls 🤭 clit play, fivesome(kinda), breeding kink, humiliation, oral m and f receiving. mf(fff), mentions of underage stuff ekkk

main masterlist

In whatever capacity Daemon had within himself to restrain himself from his pretty wife was surely a bravery the Maesters ought to write in books. He had graced the courts of Lys multiple, multiple times. That's where he’d found Mysaria all those years ago. She was a whore, and dancer but a whore. He visited the city twice in his youth, in all his glory mounted open the ominous visage that was Caraxes yet not once was he esteemed enough to watch the infamous courtesans of Lys. Those women, wretched but entrancing women who invited the ones their hearts pleased, unlike any other establishment that would let in anyone with a coin to throw.

Imagine his surprise when an enticing swan from that very establishment had been under his nose this entire time, part of him cursed himself for not seeing it earlier. Something of such enchanting breeding couldn’t have simply come from the loins of Qoren Martell, and knowing your parentage was from Lys. If you weren’t already an insatiable spirit, Daemon pawed at your skirts even more now. He knew that the matter of you dancing was rather sensitive since your mother’s passing and he would never impose himself onto you otherwise.

Yet it couldn’t help taunt the perverse within him, such was the beauty of the Lysenees courtesans. To entice a man wild with just the melody of their voices and the ancient craft of their dance. Many a man with pockets deep enough to raise kingdoms lost their prospects at the doorsills of these bewitching girls.

You spoke of it at length with him once, sat in a warm bath overlooking the sunset, how esteemed of a pupil you were and come of age, your introductory performance had carriages lined for ten streets. Should the time have come, you might have even become the Madam of the establishment with age. The more you excelled in your art the more you feared of never leaving that place like your mother had wished for you. You not once loathed dancing, you hated the politics— you hated how wars began at the backs of courtesans partaking in spying against the very lords they once served to backstab and plot away at every chance they got for their survival. You rather missed the morning singing lessons and the sounds of your sister's anklets running up and down the halls.

“You keep such things from me,” Daemon muttered against your bare shoulder, peppering kisses up to your “You sing?”

You nodded, lifting your head to look at him with a sheepish smile.

It wouldn’t take a lunatic to envision your sweet voice singing away… singing just for him. He tried, he tried so very hard to not let his twitch cock at the thought of it, he was sure you felt it.

“What am I to do with you.” He groaned.

For a wish he had dreamt of since he was near seven and ten, no amount of gold named to the second Targaryen prince would get him inside that establishment, not after he had claimed Caraxes— a magnanimous beast that could burn all those witches in there all at once and not even after aiding the Free Cities with its odd brawls with one another.

And here the damned gods had blessed him with his wish, perched upon his lap. Eager to please him, vowed to obey and be with him till death do them part. Curious how the world worked.

You were no fool, like an animal in rut you had felt Daemon’s demeanour change since the day he discovered you were an untouched courtesan and caught you dancing in the Mirrored Palace alone. You were no stranger to the allure and aura that followed from being who you were, or who your performative personality is.

There is no harm done you thought, you had no joy in dancing for the men at court yet the sound of perhaps performing— truly performing for your lord husband seemed titillating.

It was the conditioning perhaps, to have a noble lord claim a courtesan all to himself, it showed one of two things. A lord with immensely fat pockets or a woman worth nearly a kingdom and its cavalry.

What were you worth? A fucking dragon-lord, a kingdom can’t be worth much if it’s ash. With your children most likely inheriting dragons too, you would by comparison must have outshone all your sisters back in Lys. Such fortune all for a pretty song and the swaying of one’s hips.

When Daemon had told you about is escapades in Essos, especially of how many times the poor prince had tried to gain an audience at your former court. You internally giggled at the picture of a young Daemon clamouring like the rest with gifts and praises to win the attention of your house Madam at the time. Even when he returned with a dragon he was barred, and it wasn’t unusual. Your Madam enjoyed playing with fire, toying with how far she could push men just to catch a glimpse of one of her girls.

Come to think of it, she might have been trying to grasp for an invitation to the Old King’s court, set up an establishment in King’s Landing. But one thing you’d learned from the stories Daemon told you about King’s Landing. Much of the courtesan's work would be polluted by the lack of affection for its craft.

You couldn't deprive him so, not when he paid you handsomely, ravishing your body each night like a silent prayer. Even having seen you, felt you and taught you things that would go beyond the means of a courtesan’s work. You saw the passion in his eyes when he’d find you fixing your ghungroos or humming under your breath as you worked on your needlepoint. The tests of a true Madam now laid at your feet, not only to devise an elaborate function for your dear husband but to be discreet and the most essential part of it all, for you to be perfection.

You’d pick the night of the coming full moon, you knew your father would have grumbled himself to his chambers rather early, the change in tides somehow always made him ill. Your sisters would all be abed, Daemon’s daughter’s too. The commendable part were your lady’s maids, pussyfooting away orders of flowers from Pentos, the special vials of rose oil from Qarth, at least a hundred candles to light up the arched viewpoint at the Watergardens. Daemon’s favourite foods to be prepared along with fine strong wines from the Old Palace cellars.

The intricacies of this function had been handled with such care and secrecy, that it made you consider moving into the manse your father had gifted you after your wedding for some privacy. Surely, a married— happily married couple engaging in salacious acts with one another shouldn't be unexpected. Lastly your lehenga, unlike the ones you usually wear, was truly a magnificent piece made by the dressmaker. A black velvet blouse with a dangerously low neckline and shoulder embroidered with dragons of red and gold threads, a lighter skirt of silk with heavy gold embroidery and embellishments and a chiffon embellished shawl that did nothing to hide your figure.

Another ruse was set up to hide your true schemes, a quaint supper with just you and Daemon being entertained by folk singers sent by Yi Ti.

The evening had been rather splendid, Daemon had no interest in listening to some fucks sing about in a tongue he understood not, but when his sweet wife insisted upon spending the evening together: he couldn't deny you.

He suspected that you were up to something, with supper being prepared, dishes lined up one after the other which were all those he shamelessly indulged in, the rather aged wine that you had been consuming a little too much of. He did not mind, either way, fucking his wife tonight sober or a sweet slobber mess— all was well in the world. After what seemed like a while, Daemon finally felt at ease, calm with a purpose that he belonged, with his daughters and you.

“Excuse me, dearest.” you whispered against his ear, smiling before pecking his cheek “I’ll be back.”

Daemon smiled back, watching you rise from the floored cushions that the both of you nested on, his eyes very shamelessly admiring your backside and the curves of your hips as you walked back into your quarters. He marvelled at the thought of ripping that very lovely maroon gown of your body. The colour change had been a sudden shock to him when you fluttered your way into the sparring wards in a Dornish gown painted in the dark crimson of his house’s colour. Rest assured the sparring continued later in the evening and the gown alas did not survive.

You had slipped out easily, just as the doors closed behind you, the lot of you bolted the opposite direction to your privy and down the hallways, skirts hiked up as you used your other hand to free your hair of the loose Westerosi braids they were in. Your maids ran with you, two of them already waiting by the Watergardens along with the the whore dancers you had acquired all outfitted in white and the esteemed musicians that played at every one of your events.

Hiding behind the thick shrubbery, your maids hastily stripped you off your gown and small clothes and replaced them with the ensemble made for tonight. You prayed to the gods while calming your breath from all that running, let it be perfect. The four girls would greet Daemon upon his arrival, even though they would be a finer treat than most men have had in this lifetime, you were another anthology entirely.

Daemon had been given his first clue after the Yi Ti performers had finally ended their never-ending song.

“The princess awaits you in the Watergardens, my prince.” the attendant had informed before scurrying away.

Whatever this was, Daemon was truly intrigued seemingly obeying his wife and heading straight out of the gardens without any delay. The show that greeted him there however had him taken aback for a moment, the garden pillars decorated in blossoms and twinkling candles scattered across the stairs leading to the arches. He could hear the mellow music and the serene sound of flute dancing along with the crashing waves.

Just like a dream come true, he was greeted by the sound of ghungroos— a sound he had grown accustomed to. Four girls rushed towards him, lifting their hands to their faces and bowing.

“Good evening, my prince.” one of them spoke.

“We have longed for your arrival, your grace.” said the other. Reaching forward for Daemon’s hand.

At any other time he might have pulled away, but this was surely orchestrated by his wayward wife. He could feel her around but couldn't see, and these girls— preening up at him like willing, wanting whores, they were no courtesans. He played along, letting them drag him along to the shore view where an elaborate arrangement awaited him. An old fire in him arose when his reputation had been so palpable at the many brothels across the Known World. Two of them pushed him onto the plush sete, giggling as one of them plops right next to him.

“Would you like some refreshments, my prince.” One of them said with a bunch of grapes in her hand, the other poured him a glass of wine. The third took her time feeling Daemon up, he thoroughly enjoyed this but longed for his wife— his courtesan. One of them began to unbutton the tops of his doublet, soft fingers trailing across his chest.

His sexual frustrations and anticipation began to pivot to a perverse ire, to find you hiding somewhere and reprimand you with your arse red for teasing him so.

That is when the sound of a heavier set of ghungroos echoed around the arches, there you were. Your glowing face against the moonlit sky and candles, you walked towards, body covered in a thick black shawl. The girls around him lifted their skirts and ran towards you, positioning themselves. Then came the music, a smirk so prominent settled itself on Daemon’s lips as his lifelong dream had now stood in fruition before him.

You seductively, inch by inch let the black shawl drop until it fell to the ground, looking at the shawl and suggestively looking up at your husband. You twirled thrice forward, ending right by Daemon’s legs and lowered yourself. He knew not of what you sang but it was as though a witch chanted spells to bind him to you.

The song you sang was one of innocence, a sweet girl begging her lover to let her return home— for the higher the moon rose in the sky her reputation hung by a thread. Ever so seductively telling him to stay away because she knew his true desires were so very impure.

Stay away my love, I know what you desire

You reached for the rose tucked in your blouse, reaching lower to gesture at your ghungroos, giving Daemona a rather exposed view of your bosom. You acted as if his looking had offended you and flicked the rose at him, you stood to continue your routine still singing without a note or beat missed. You knew within that you were perfection, it is what you were trained for from birth. This one performance should have costed half of Pentos, but look upon Daemon’s eyes was payment enough for you.

Night fades to dawn my love, please let me go home

You pulled your shawl of your head and down you your shoulder, toying with it around your cleavage. Eyebrows suggestively scrunched at Daemon, making him kiss the rose you gave him and throw it back at you which you caught with ease, letting the petal graze upon your cheek and then your lips lowering it further down the sides of your torso and tucking it this time at the lining of your skirt. You turn your back towards him swaying you hips as you walked away, turning once to wink at him and continuing to walk until the hardest part of the number began.

The percussion beats could never be missed by your feet, in a performative haze you smiled at the three dancers who also did an extraordinary job at keeping up with you. You turned one last time.

My mother and sister by law shall poke, where had I been, my love. I will die of embarrassment

You walked towards him this time, an exaggerated sway in your hip as you pulled your shawl out from your skirt lining and let it fall to the floor, you turned once more, performatively reaching for the back strings of your blouse and pulling them to mimic a sensual morning stretch. You turned towards your husband who had settled himself further into the cushion.

You kept singing as he reached his hand out, you took it letting him pull you onto his lap. Your soft finger held his face as you kept singing, leading his face towards your neck and he wasted no time in peppering kisses down your collarbone. You pushed him back there after which startled him, you could feel the hardened mound under his breeches— your payment.

Stay away my love, I know of what you desire.

Daemon had enough, still letting you finish your song, your eyes and eyebrows still expressing away your performative feelings as he reached for your Nath and removed it, a significant indication of deflowering a young courtesan.

Your song ended as you sat straddled upon Daemon’s lap, you gaze never left his— like you were another person entirely. Daemon relished in how he intimidated you, how shy and small you were around him, how receptive but innocent you remained even when he taught you to pleasure him and yourself in bed. Yet this woman sat atop him, you were someone else.

“Was it everything you ever dreamed of, my prince.” Your whispered, your hands caressing his face.

Daemon for a moment couldn’t find his words, that’s when you snapped from your performance growing anxious from the silence. You were about to pull away when Daemon abruptly spun you down onto the cushion so he lay towering over you, caging you under his broad build.

“How am I to pay you, my lady,” he said, wanting to rip the clothing off your body but he looked behind to still see the four girls standing.

“They are yours tonight my prince,” you nervously, your aura slipping back to the former “As am I.”

At that Daemon held no restraint and laid siege upon your body, he figured the lasses could still dance as Daemon would take you apart under the moonlit sky.

You held nothing back, arching your back onto the onslaught of Daemon’s lips. Letting your fingers feel the remaining buttons of his doublet and pushing them off his shoulder. This time you pushed back, the heat on your cheeks so apparent for you’d never thought to be so forthcoming in bed before, Daemon always held the reins, placing you in positions he liked, teaching you ways to pleasure yourself.

Daemon grunted for a moment, fighting against the push of your hands before giving in, letting you lay him back down once more. You straddled him once more, this time slipping back into the seductive performance you’d laid out for him. Smiling down at him as you slipped your blouse off, slowly— inch by inch before dropping it next to you.

Daemon’s lips parted in a gasp, though his cockiness would credit his lessons for confidence in this matter. He was further crazed by how much you appeared to be enjoying doing this. He couldn't help himself, reaching up to tweak at your left nipple. You began to roll your hips against the hardening of his breeches, your bare cunt under your skirt pressed at the girth giving you just a small burst of pleasure.

You did Daemon of his tunic, your fingers tracing his battle scars as you reached lower, letting your lips press against his warm skin— letting yourself inch lower and lower as you shuffled off him.

You both yearned greatly for one another, nearly four moons into your marriage and the passions you shared for one another only seemed to reach further heights with each passing day. A fire that Daemon had lit within you burned so bright for him every day. One might think you were born to be with him, obey him.

Daemon watched as you undid his pants, pulling them down his legs and not once leaving his eyes, you were an ethereal sight, bare-chested with his gifted jewels shining at your neck— so prepared to service him. You reached for his cock and that's when he stopped you.

His hands trailed to your head of wild hair, gently tugging at it. “You want my cock?” he said. Eyes wild and waiting for your response.

You meekly nodded, sticking your tongue out just as he taught you to. Wasting no time further he pushes your mouth onto his cock, letting your head bob and suction at his length. You worked your tongue around his cock, the taste of him so familiar in your mouth. You whimper as he pushes in further breaching the back of your mouth and making your eyes water.

“Who would have thought it hmm, the finest girl Lys could offer kneeled like a whore for me” his words falsely degrading you sending shockwaves straight to you your core.

You whimper, this time willingly taking him deeper feeling your throat want to constrict as you pull up for air— he however stops you briefly before giving you relief. A string of salvia lingering on your lips. He wiped at the tears polling around the corner of your eyes.

“Take the rest of it off girl,” he demanded, eyes ravenous and impatient.

You gathered your bearing before standing once more, pulling at the waist string of your skirts with no haste to tease him yet again. You let your skirt fall as you caught onto the rose still tucked at your waistline. You kissed it and threw it at him. Every look, every action towards you seemed to have been pooling your cunt wet.

Daemon grunted, yanking you back onto him. His lips smacked against yours once more as he took a harsh hold of your tit with one hand while the other held you here. His actions were voracious, seducing your soul rather than your body.

You took matters into your own hands, unable to keep up with this game any longer and reached for his cock— gently rubbing the tip at you folds before lowering yourself onto him.

Daemon groaned into your mouth as you gasped, having never felt him so deep, you held onto his shoulder fingernails digging in.

“You're so deep,” you whispered, your breath hitching as you adjusted to the intrusion.

His fingers dug into the flesh of your arse pulling you further down and full of him. You felt so close, so one with him. You began to grind your hip, your neck cranked as Daemon’s head dipped lower to kiss your shoulders and up your neck.

“Such a fine prize aren't you, tell me how do I pay you?” he said bucking his hips up into you making you sqwak.

“D-dragonseed… I want your babes.” you whispered, head hanging in a wanting shame.

Daemon smirked, he had forever hoped to make you swell of his children but he never knew your sweet mind craved to be bred.

“Go on then, take what you want.” he rested back on to his elbows, bucking his hips once more to coerce you to keep going.

You rested a hand on his torso using it as leverage to lift your hips to bounce into his cock. Your snug cunt milking him to fill you. Your smaller legs weren't enough to lift you that far off his cock, but you tried nonetheless. Daemon reached for your cunny, his thumb began to rub circles onto your clit sending you into a frenzy— riding him with far more determination.

It felt good, so very good.

“How does it feel darling? How does it feel riding a dragon.”

You let out a strained giggle at that, still unable to help your childish mind. You kept riding him, Daemon’s lips restraining a smile too at your ill-timed humour. Earning you a sharp smack on your left tit.

“It feels so good, so deep.”

Your hips found a steady rhythm against Daemon’s fingers at your bundle of nerves. Your each bounce ore eager than the one before. Your tits bobbing and calling for equal attention from Daemon.

“My prince!”

You moaned, feeling that pinnacle ever so close as you chased it.

“I’m all yours,” you said unprovoked “a courtesan trained just for you.”

Daemon nearly lost his bearings at that, pinching your nipple harder. Seven Hells— he knew you were made just for him.

“Say it again.”

“I was born to be your c- courtesan.” you cried, feeling so very close to completion.

Your thighs begin to shudder, he can feel them clenching— he lets go of your breast and grabs your hips in aid to feel you gush around him. A sudden pitched cry leaves your mouth as you tremble your bouncing coming to a halt as you fight to hold yourself up but Daemon’s fingers on your bundle of nerves don't stop.

He abruptly flips you over, readjusting you within a blink of an eye. Your bare body facing the dancers as Daemon’s solid wet-length rested on the curve of your ass.

“We could get your money’s worth,” he suggested nipping at your ear lobe, his demeanour shifted to the one of you loving husband. “We needn't—”

“I trust you.” you looked up at him, chest still heaving from your peak before and yet you always wanted more of him, more of his depravities.

So many fantasies, much to do.

He gestured them forward knowing they would take much time to shed their clothes, they were whores trained to dance.

All three of of them vulgarly bowed, giggling amongst themselves.

“My prince.” The chorus of their voice followed as they began their performance to reach for him.

He tutted— he’d die happy if he died tonight.

“Not me, her.” He ordered.

You looked back up at him, a curious flare in your eyes that was met with his top protruding at your sloppy opening once more.

The girls entirely shifted their attention onto you.

“Mhmm you have such lovely tits princess.”

“Such soft skin.”

“Such a fine figure, your grace.”

Daemon pushed into you once more, groaning and resting his head onto your shoulder. His palm curled around you neck pulling your back against his shoulder. He knew of the explosive pleasure you were about to discover, even more joy was that he would be the one giving it to you, a fine reward for my girl, the fruits of the lovely exhibition you'd put on for him.

He began fucking into you, small grunts and exhales lingered by your ear and what followed from there on had your mind scattered.

One whore settled on suckling your nipples, twisting and toying with the other. One muffled your moans with her lips upon yours. Your cunny was already sensitive but then you felt a sensation you never had before. The third girl kneeled by the nest and began to lick your bud.

“D— Daemon!”

The sensation so overwhelming you began to pull away, Daemon curled other arm firm around your torso to keep you in place as he continued rut into you.

“Feels good doesn’t it, my love?”

You could barely speak but you nodded, eyes shut feeling yourself so lost in every touch. One of the whores disappeared behind you, settling herself under Daemon to service his heavy stones.

He watched as the whores played with your tits, he too reach further up to tweak a pebble harshly between his fingers. You gasped at the burn of pain. The whore sucking at your teat came to your defence.

“Gentle my prince, breaking a thing so pretty isn’t fair”

“Not this one, her cunt is squelching around me.” he groans.

“Its true!” the girl by your cunt giggles.

Your cheeks burned in shame, they spoke of you like you weren't around. The whore licking your bud pushed at your folds to leave it exposed as she suckled and licked and rubbed away. Daemon’s cock fucked you raw from within and you felt it once more, hurtling towards.

“Go on, wet my cock my love.” he grunted fucking you harder.

His peak chased after as you broke first, gushing around his cock as you screamed his name. Legs and arms shuddering as Daemon grunted to completion himself, ropes of his spent coated your walls. You could feel the warmth within, nearly forfeited by your sensations. He held your body so close, recovering himself as he shooed the whores away.

Letting you collapse in the nest first and then himself. Laying soft kisses at your shoulder, still firmly holding your hand to ground you.

“Well done, my love.”

You lazily smiled at him, dazed in euphoria as you rubbed your feet against his calves.

“What have I done for fortune.” He whispered against your temple.

You shrugged at him, leaning forward to kiss him once more. “I hope you are pleased with my performance?”

Daemon shook his head, begging mesmerized by you. He let his hand rest at your belly.

“If giving you all this love,” he kissed your cheek. “My dragonseed,” he pressed onto you belly. “Isn’t indication of how very pleased I am sweet girl.”

Then you heard a high pitched squeal from the skies, clicks and then the rustle of trees around you. “Then perhaps I should show you what being a dragon feels like.”

Caraxes burst through the horizon behind your circling the skies as he lowered himself onto the white beach. You looked at Daemon puzzled, as he pulled you up to dress you.

“What are you doing?” You huffed putting your blouse back on.

“You want to have my children, it might be time that you grew accustomed to Caraxes.”

You kept dressing yourself to mask the fear that was coursing through your veins. I dance for him and he plans to kill me. You could barely muster the courage to be even ten feet around Moondancer and that beast was a babe. Caraxes is a behemoth, he protects your husband— he told you how the two of them were two halves of whole. It never made sense to you.

“Don’t be scared, halves of a whole remember?” he said as he bent down to lift you up by you back and legs once you finished dressing.

You’d rid yourself of your ghungroos just to not startle the beast.

“I love you, care for you. Therefore he does too.”

You weren’t sure about how sure he was about said theory. Yet you let him carry you to the beaches below where Caraxes sat waiting, when you saw him it almost appeared as though he was playing with sand. Shaking his snout it the sand to bury it and then exhaling to have sand fly everywhere, followed by loud clicks.

“Is he— is he playing?” You asked your husband.

“Told you, he’s harmless.”

That beast also burned dozens of Dornish men but alright.

Just as Caraxes felt Daemon’s presence he chirped up even more, his long neck swaying in the wind. However it only took a moment for his demeanour to flip when he realized there was another. You froze in Daemon’s arms at the low grumble Caraxes let out.

“Dohaeras Caraxes!” Daemon lowly warned the beast.

Caraxes still look unsure but Daemon kept walking.

He put you down a few feet from the beast, don’t run— don’t run. You watched as Daemon walked towards Caraxes without a care in the world that his wife might get fried tonight.

“Konir sagon ñuha ābrazȳrys, ao gīmigon zirȳla syt izula hūra, keligon issare quba.” That is my wife, you have know about her for four moons. I told you.

Daemon sounded like he was scolding the dragon.

He turned to you “Come my love.”

You obeyed, talking small steps towards him. Towards his outstretched hand. Everything would be fine, you trusted him. Entirely— wholeheartedly, with your life.

Just until Caraxes turned his long neck and his snout just with a feet from you. You froze entirely once more, Daemon still petting Caraxes.

“Dohaeras,” he whispered, almost as if he spoke to a child.

Caraxes’s big nostrils flared, sniffing you a couple of time before chirping. Daemon chuckled, you relaxed for a moment until Caraxes gently used his snout to trip you backwards before once more burying his snout in the sand and deeply exhaling, burying you in a thick sheet of sand. Daemon couldn’t help but break into a fit of laughter

“Daemon!”

You were going to great friends he knew it.

eeee I had so much fun writing this. I totally imagine Caraxes kinda being like jealous Lilly from modern family lol

[e-hibiscus]

Pairing: Demon!Ningguang x reader

Authors Note: Happy Hallows eve 👻

As part of @edgeray ’s Halloween Event, I’ve written you all a fic for the spooky season‼️‼️

Warnings: Nsfw, suggestive UTC

As a hobby you enjoy sifting through old estate sales. It’s always an entertaining thing to see objects that people hold onto. Each thing is tied together with a story from the past. Anytime you see a sign posted about a garage or estate sale, you always go to take a look because there’s always a hidden gem in the sea of “junk”.

Stepping out of your car, you see a man out by the garage, organizing an assortment of toys, books, clothes, and other nicknacks. The crunching of gravel lets the man know of your arrival, and after some small talk you're sifting through the mountains of mementoes. Looking through faded pictures and books for anything of interest.

While looking through some old posters, something catches your eye. An old book in excellent condition despite how dusty it is on the surface. In some odd way… you’re compelled to take it with you, so you buy it along with a few other things , like a beautiful hairpin and intricately designed pipe.

Standing before your small haul of items, the book falls to the wayside. The worn and dirty gold hairpin is the first thing you decide to restore and you’re glad you did because after cleaning the damn thing it was simply beautiful. Feeling the pattern underneath your fingertips, it’s clear this was a masterpiece in its own right. You decide to keep it on your vanity incase you ever want to use it. The pipe too, is a very similar line of event. Restoration and then ultimately you display it in your collection with your other bits and bobs.

It was only months later that you get around to the weird book you’ve picked from that estate sale. A few times you’ve found yourself staring at the cover while it sits on your shelf. You bring the worn book in your hands, being careful not to cause anymore damage to its delicate body. Despite its clearly aged appearance, your able to read the characters written in the pages.

Only some seem familiar to you, but there was much more you didn’t understand about it. It was clear that this was a ritual of sorts, that much was clear if the images and diagrams were anything to go off of. Tracing over the characters, you decide that you’re going to try and summon whatever this thing is. Everything is confusing though… so you brush up on your researching skills for the sake of finding out more about this ritual. Your curiosity got the best of you, so you began pouring in hours of research in your free time.

After years of on and off research and deciphering of the characters you’ve finally figured it out.

You couldn’t get in any faster than you already were. The frantic jingling of your keys was the only thing you can hear other than your labored breath. Your eyes continue to dart between each key and the time on your watch until you finally get the door open and shut behind you.

In your living room, mostly everything had been cleared out so you could make space for all the things necessary. You spent hours the day before crafting the sigils, referencing your notes so things would be absolutely perfect. You didn’t come this far to half-ass this, right? You couldn’t help but cover your eyes when the characters light up brightly, and you miss how Ningguang’s pulled from her slumber. The demon manifests from the smoke, to see her new “master” and when she sees you the demon only raises a brow.

Slowly, you crack your eyes open to see not an ugly scary demon… but an older woman who eyes your body almost as if she’s picking jewelry instead of looking at a person. Even under the scrutinizing gaze of the demon before you, a small “Woah…” escapes under your breath because Ningguang’s beautiful.

••

The ruby eyes take in the room around her. It’s bland for her taste. There’s only a few things amongst all the “junk” Ningguang could appreciate however the succubus can’t help but be disappointed by your taste in decor.

“Well,” Ningguang’s voice draws out smoothly. It’s not often a woman summons her, and a rather cute one at that. “What do we have here?”

The way you averted your gaze from her immediately when it became clear you’re reserved and inexperienced. With a firm grip on your face, Ningguang forces your attention into her face. A chill ran down your spine as her pertent gaze bore into you. The sharp manicured nails leave light crescents on your cheeks before her thumb gently runs over the markings with faux care. She drinks in you slightly panicked expression.

She doesn’t miss the way your breath hitches as her thin tail snakes its way around your thigh. The desire in your core grows from the sweet scent filling the air and you only grow more sensitive to everything. From the fabric of your shirt to your panties your body is getting worked up in the presence of such a power succubus. You remain still as she turns your head, a pleased hum escaping her lips before she lets go satisfied by your obedience. Ningguang’s praise sounds smooth like honey. “What an obedient little master.” Her delicate fingers swipe over your lips, before she plants an indulgent kiss to rile you up some more.

Your hand reaches out to grab her wait, however Ningguang grabs hold of your wrist. “Have patience, little master. You’ll get a taste soon enough.” Her words ghosting the shell of your ear. Ningguang leans in to steal a kiss with an indulgent chuckle before setting her smoke aside.

Soon enough you’re laid in the sheets presenting your pretty little pussy for her. Already the thin fabric of your thong is soaked through with your arousal, pupils blow wide as you stare up at her figure leaning over with nothing but grace and elegance.

The way her nails scrape against your skin sends a shiver down your spine. You should be embarrassed that a simple swipe over your clothed sex has you rolling your hips against Ningguang’s hand. The needy feeling aches from the lack of stimulation.

“All you have to do is say yes,” Her words break through your clouded mind with a tempting offer. “and offer your body to me?”

[vagabond-umlaut]

gojo satoru x reader fic recs (I)

‣ now that i've got loads of free time, thought why shouldn't i use it well by showing (few of) my fave authors their much well-deserved love, respect and attention? ^_^

‣ this is merely a list of works i've enjoyed reading. kindly heed the tags and warnings in each of them and consume content responsibly, at your own discretion. that being said, i own neither these fics nor the characters nor the above gif. enjoy reading! 🥰

⌀ all that is solid [series] by GrilledTandooriSmoke on ao3

one of the best series there is. period. the fluff, the angst, the drama, the humor, the romance, the friendship, the plot, the dialogues - everything is top-notch in this series, i'm telling you. bonus points for being narrated in both reader's and gojo's pov.

⌀ The King is But a Man [series] by Petrichorium on ao3 (@petrichorium on tumblr)

royal!gojo who's terribly in love with the reader x reader who's equally (but way more discreetly) in love with gojo. add to that, the trope of childhood sweethearts reunited as adults, excellent communication between the couple and a wonderfully-crafted world and dialogues - what more could you ask from a series?

⌀ Ten to None (Soulmate AU) (oneshot) by Oreosmama on ao3

a fic which i adore with every fibre of my being. i will not say anything more about this, except to request you to go read this. you'll love it. (especially the fantabulous ending. btw, did i already say how much i'm in love with how well-written this fic is?)

⌀ Scarred [oneshot] by cainis on ao3

one of the best angst-with-a-happy-ending fic there is. i wish i could give thousands of kudos for the heart-wrenchingly amazing way the author has portrayed gojo's character here.

⌀ Mother of otherness, Eat me [oneshot] by itsbaby on ao3

one of the most beautiful works i've read so far. told from yuuji's pov, it explores gojo and reader's relationship and its nuances in a way seldom done before. however, what stole the show for me, was the soft and sweet mother-son duo the reader and yuuji grow to be in this fic. i really love this one-of-a-kind masterpiece.

⌀ something sweet [oneshot] by heresan on ao3 (@pretty-toru on tumblr)

i love love love this fic. it's so fluffy, so funny, so cute, so heart-warming... just read this fic, people. you won't ever be disappointed by the dynamics reader and gojo have in this one. one of my all-time faves, tbh.

⌀ teen dad Gojo [series] by pantao on ao3 (@seravphs on tumblr)

a sweet and realistic depiction of reader and gojo being teenaged parents to young megumi, all the while they try to figure out their feelings for each other. a perfect mixture of fluff, angst, drama, slice-of-life and romance, imo. (also, the author's notes are pure gold. whatever you do, please don't miss reading them! :D)

⌀ To see those eyes I prize above mine own (twoshot) by koyama on ao3

if you wish to watch godlike!gojo willing to let go of his powers, out of guilt and immense, immense, protective love for the reader, this is the ideal fic for you. i'm in awe of the way the writer wrote gojo's complex persona and the way the sorcerer realized his feelings for the reader. (the second chapter's the cherry on the cake. it's so good!!!!)

⌀ keeping up with the fushigojos (series) by @augustinewrites on tumblr

fluff? A+; angst? A+; drama? A+; characterization & dialogues? A+; humour? A+++++. a sureshot way to end a long hectic tiring day on a happy note is to read this series. (my go-to comfort series, ngl. :])

⌀ CAT & DOG (oneshot) by @mimiriko on tumblr

an adorable fic of gojo being in love with the reader, who knows, yet doesn't really know, much about it. plus, the feline-like features of gojo are sooo cute... and this fic is sooo sweet... the story left me smiling when i finished reading it.

⌀ surely summer wasn't over yet [3 chapters] by 3rdgymbros on ao3

an amazing fic set against the backdrop of the hidden inventory arc. the portrayal of the characters and their dynamics is simply impeccable. despite my kind-of-dislike towards this particular arc of the manga, i really enjoyed reading this one.

[morganas-pendragons]

holly | celebrimbor

3 pieces in one weekend is alot for me lol

tag: @celebrimbormylove @erebusbabylon @pentaghasm @thesolarangel @celebrimborsapron

prompt: gifts from the forge

You have been wondering about how to ask this again for weeks. You've had desires to learn more about the forge since your earliest days in Eregion, and Celebrimbor always seems to have an excuse to prevent it.

Your inherently stubborn nature is what prompts you to ask him again, this time with the other Gwaith-I-Mírdain present. Mirdania gives you two thumbs up from behind her station as you approach.

"Lord Celebrimbor?" You call over the ringing of hammers against anvils. "Might I have a moment?"

Celebrimbor looks up from his sketches and smiles. You're so taken with him already, but particularly when he's like this, and even more so when there's lead smudged all over his hands from his sketches.

"I did not see you arrive. What are you up to today, dearest?" He asks.

"I'm coming to ask you a question.." You hesitate. "I would really like to learn how to forge. I have an idea, if you're willing to help me craft it."

Celebrimbor's smile wavers slightly. His main reasoning is that he simply does not wish to see you hurt, but all of his smiths have started in your position. The hopeful smile and the way your eyes shine with curiosity...

He sighs. "Very well. Only under my watch, and you must do as I say. Understood?"

You nod eagerly. Finally.

"Absolutely. You have my word. When do we start?"

"Let's start with you telling me more about your idea."

You are many, many things. Subtle? Not one of them. Mirdania snorts as you lean impossibly closer to Celebrimbr, eagerly talking on about your idea of crafting two holly pins.

It had been her input that had given you the courage.

"A holly leaf??" Celebrimbor asks. "That's an excellent project for a beginner! As it happens, there's gold being prepared for another project and I'm sure there's enough to spare. Come."

You follow Celebrimbor throughout the forge as you both gather the necessary components for crafting these leaves. You allow him to talk most of the way, explaining the mechanics of the forge and how he will be guiding your hands.

You wink at Mirdania as you catch her eye. Perfect. This is what you want.

By the time all of the supplies are gathered and ready, it is only the three of you left in the forge. The others have returned home for the evening. Mirdania bids you both a good evening and mouths, ''good luck!" before she too disappears.

After she departs, Celebrimbor peers over his shoulder at his last remaining companion. "I would understand if you want to continue this in the morning," He begins. "I don't want to keep you from something important."

You flash a pointed, though playful look. "You are important to me, you insufferable elf," You tease. "For you, I have all the time in the world." You stand just in front of him and, after throwing on a smith's apron and gloves, reach for the hammer you know is used to shape the metals. "My hands are yours."

Celebrimbor smiles and steps into your space, chest pressed to your back.

"First you must place the mold.."

"Mhm." You keep your eyes solely focused on his hands. If you get too distracted by how this is the closest he's been to you thus far, you're going to embarrass yourself. "Like that?"

"Carefully," He chides. "I don't want you to burn yourself." You can tell he's been doing this for centuries, as his movements are all slow and precise. "And now to pour the gold..."

He's so warm. So warm, and strong, and safe. You don't recall anyone else who has ever made you feel like this.

You surrender yourself to his guidance, absorbing what little time you will have to feel him like this before he shies away again. You'd let Celebrimbor imprint himself on your soul if he asked it.

Once poured, he guides you to move to the mold so the two of you can watch the metal cool. He watches you out of the corner of his eye. You are so trusting, so pliant, so soft.

Two holly pins are starting to take shape beneath them. They're meant to be worn across cloaks, as was your intention because you're aware that's the only way you can get him to wear it.

You lean into his arms around you as the metal cools. It really is quite a fascinating thing to witness.

Celebrimbor presses his chin into your shoulder. "Do you wish to add any detailing or color?" He asks quietly, relishing the feeling of your body so close to his.

"Green," You whisper, desperately trying not to close your eyes because he's now gotten closer and you can feel all of him. "For Eregion."

Celebrimbor smiles as though he already knows your answer. His affections for you have bloomed, budding from a timid bulb into a flowering plant that continues to bloom under your careful cultivation. He knows he loves you. He knows you: your weaknesses and fears and desires and aches.

He is still trying to allow you to know him. He wants to, yes, but it proves difficult. This may be a start.

"If I didn't know better," Celebrimbor teases lowly in your ear. The rasp in his voice is enough to make you shiver. 'I'd say you were trying to flatter the Lord of Eregion."

"You gave me a home," You reply simply. It is the easiest answer you've ever given. "Two of them. You, as the person, and Eregion as the place." Scarlet dusts his cheeks as he hides his face in your shoulder. "Of course, I am trying to flatter you, you ridiculous smith."

You peer at him through your peripheral and wink.

Oh, I am done for.

It is only then in the glow of the forge that Celebrimbor is struck by how beautiful you are.

"May I kiss you, dear?" He whispers in your ear.

It is not often that you are caught off guard. This time you are. You turn around in his embrace and wrap your arms around your neck as you nod. "I would love nothing more, meleth nin." You reply.

Without giving himself the opportunity to second guess this decision, Celebrimbor takes this risk and presses his lips to yours, one hand deftly cradling the back of your neck while the other rests at the small of your back.

All coherent thoughts go flying out the window as you curl your fingers against his chest. This is what you've wanted for weeks now, for Celebrimbor to realize that you want him to touch you as much as you touch him. You want him to let him know you the way you know him. There's already been so much vulnerability, so many nights of whispered confessions hidden in the dark and tears wiped away with the pads of your thumbs, yet he still hesitates to take that final leap.

Until now.

When you pull away, a whimper breaks at the back of your throat, and your fingers have moved to tangle in a mess of dark blonde curls.

Letting you pull away is one of the hardest things Celebrimbor has ever done. All he wishes to do now that he's taken that leap is to pull you back and cover you in his kisses, to worship you like the being of divinity you are, to sweep you off your feet with the heart of the hopeless romantic he knows he is.

"You are ethereal," Celebrimbor breathes against your lips as he rests his forehead against your own. "Unlike anyone I have ever known. I am sorry it has taken me so long to communicate that."

You could say so many things to him in that moment about how much you love him. About how Celebrimbor has become your sole reason for continued breathing, about how his passions and desires and yearning for life have given you a renewed purpose.

You do neither. Not yet.

"Help me finish our pins," You say softly, lightly tugging on his hair as you continue to play with it. He suppresses the groan rumbling in his chest as heavy-lidded hazel eyes meet yours. "And then I will allow myself to echo that same sentimentality to you."

Rationality overcomes him once again. Celebrimbor clears his throat, cheeks reddening. "Right." He coughs into his arm, scratching at the back of his neck as you part just enough to turn back around in his embrace. "The pins. Let us place the adornments."

"I promise they have a purpose. Help me finish them, and then we can talk."

You remain back to chest as two gold holly leaf pins begin to take shape beneath you - adorned with green embellishments that spiral and shatter against gold jewels carefully placed along the length of each pin.

When they cool, you grab the first with careful fingers and turn around, his fingers drumming absently against your hips as you fasten it against his robes. Celebrimbor stares down at the pin in amazement. “You intended this to be for me?” He asks softly.

You press your fingertips against your lips before reaching for your own and reaching out to lay it in his hand. “Will you pin this into my hair?” You ask. He nods, pulling you closer to carefully tuck the holly pin into the hair you have that remains tied up. Celebrimbor exhales softly as his fingers drag against the expanse of your neck. You are so soft. “I told you I’d talk after we concluded. Here’s what I have to say to you.”

You take both of his hands and press them against your hips firmly. Your own fingers drag across his cheeks, tracing the lines of the crows feet around his eyes and the reddening skin that blooms under your touch.

His breathing hitches when you reach his lips. Against the light of the fire, Celebrimbor is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. He’s always so open, so wanting, always quietly craving more of a thing he thinks he can’t have. He has such a deeply personal connection to the world around him and appreciates even the smallest of things that most people would look over and ignore.

You lean inward to kiss him. He responds in kind, a long and slow kiss that slowly grows into one that has you pressed against Mirdania’s work station and his hands on either side of you to cage you in. Celebrimbor has gradually grown more confident in this area, and it often shows when he physically responds to the little sounds you make in response to the depths of his kisses.

You whine softly as he parts for just long enough to venture down your neck, right to your pulse of your right shoulder. “You are my peace,” You whisper, eyes fluttering as you flex your hands in the fabric of his robes. “My hearts safe keeping, my home, my desires and wants and everything I have ever wished for. You are everything good I have sought for so long, Celebrimbor. I wish you’d see it.”

You shiver as his tongue works against the muscle of your shoulder where a red mark blooms, and he only stops when he realizes that there is a tattoo on your skin just beneath your collarbone.

It is a holly leaf.

Celebrimbor has never seen skin markings on anyone, let alone an Elf. It is highly irregular. Nevertheless, he nuzzles your collarbone before laying a featherlight kiss thereupon.

“Where did this come from?” He asks, fascinated by the intricacies of the design and how it stands out against your skin. “It is identical to the pins, and to the holly leaf that is associated with Eregion.”

“I’ve had it all my life.” You remark. “It only gained its color when I met you. No one else knows about it.”

Celebrimbor has no idea what that means, but he is grateful to be knowledgeable of your secret as he pulls away to look at you properly. Your eyes are wide, lips swollen and hair nearly untucked from the pin he’s placed within it. You’re beautiful.

He wants you forever.

I’m going to marry you one day.

"I am going to get better at this," The words are out before he can take them back, and you stare up at him starstruck as his hands again find your face. "Better at communicating the depths of my affection for you. I no longer wish to hide it for fear of insecurities or old haunts coming back to taunt me. These things that say I am not good enough for you," You open your mouth to argue, but Celebrimbor simply places his fingers upon your lips and blushes when you kiss his fingertips. "You have shown me a different truth amidst all of the turmoil and deception that has plagued my life. If I am to keep to any oath, it will be an oath to you, melda."

Tears burn your eyes as you nod and allow him to pull you into a hug. The hour is late, and you are tired, which prompts you to ask the one question you never thought he'd say yes to.

"I do not wish to return home," You say quietly. "May I stay in your chambers with you tonight?"

He does not answer, just simply takes your hand and leads you through the hallways you have rarely stepped into since the tower was completed. You watch each door pass you by before he stops in front of the last one, which is the furthest away and out of sight of curious eyes. Then, he opens the door and allows you inside.

While you take in the sight of Celebrimbor's bedroom - and how nervous it should make you to be in it - he steps away to find something comfortable for you to wear and comes up with a dark-colored shift he'd had made for you months prior that was intended to be a gift.

"Here, darling. This should do it." Celebrimbor calls, turning toward you, only to find that you are already lying in his bed with your body turned toward the door and your hand tucked under your cheek. The comfort you find in him knows no bounds. "Sweet, sweet girl."

He changes his own robes into his nightclothes and slips into bed, wrapping his arm around your waist before pulling you closer to him so he can bury his face in your hair.

Rest, Celebrimbor. Allow yourself this. Be peaceful.

Sleep claims him with ease.

The next morning, Mirdania finds the two of you again in the Forge, but this time you are both wearing intricately holly pins proudly on display against your chosen clothes for the day.

She grins to herself and continues to tend to her work.

[calicobigamy]

Okay, I've played the game through once, did a romance and ALL the quests and even got the good ending...but I gotta be that guy

VEILGUARD is AWFUL

If you LOVED Dragon Age and still haven't played it, save yourself the grief and just DONT. It is not worth it. It was obviously directed and led by people who couldn't give a crap about the characters and world building and the craft of writing in general.

We waited a DECADE for a turd wrapped in a little gold foil. The gameplay, the actual fighting, was the best of any dragon age game, but it came at the cost of the story. I would rather play a clunky game with excellent writing (i.e. all the other DA games) than a smooth game with no story or pacing. 

Bioware, EA could give a crap about their established audience and the craftsmenship of their artists and writers. Guess what, it really f*ckin shows. AND their apathy is f*ckin insulting. Thanks Bioware for wasting at least 80 hours of my life while simultaneously ruining one of my favorite games series ever. I hope you slip on the turd you gave me.

[aahanna]

"Masterpiece of Indian craftsmanship!"

The Peacock dress of Lady Curzon is a gown made of gold and silver thread embroidered by the Workshop of Kishan Chand (India)

The Peacock Dress of Lady Curzon is a iconic masterpiece of Indian craftsmanship and design. Created by Indian artisans and designers, this exquisite gown was worn by Lady Curzon, the wife of the Viceroy of India, to the Delhi Durbar in 1903. The dress is a stunning example of Indian craftsmanship, adorned with intricate peacock motifs, precious stones, and metallic threads, showcasing the excellence of Indian design and artistry.

"Peacock Dress of Lady Curzon: A resplendent masterpiece of Indian design and craftsmanship, this gown is a testament to the country's rich textile heritage. Intricate peacock motifs, crafted with precision and flair, adorn the dress, showcasing the exceptional skill of Indian artisans. A true masterpiece of Indian fashion and design."

Incredible craftsmanship of Indian designer:

"The Peacock Dress is a shining example of Indian designers' exceptional skill and creativity. Every thread, every stone, and every motif is a testament to their mastery of the craft. This dress is not just a piece of clothing, but a work of art that has stood the test of time, showcasing the brilliance of Indian design to the world."

EMBROIDERY DETAILS

"Peacock Dress of Lady Curzon: A resplendent masterpiece of Indian design and craftsmanship, this gown is a testament to the country's rich textile heritage. Intricate peacock motifs, crafted with precision and flair, adorn the dress, showcasing the exceptional skill of Indian artisans. The embroidery work is a marvel, with delicate silk threads, precious stones, and metallic wires used to create intricate patterns, including:

- Intricate peacock feather designs, with delicate eye and wing details

- Floral motifs, with intricate stem and leaf work

- Geometric patterns, with precision-cut mirrors and beads

The embroidery is a masterclass in Indian craftsmanship, with techniques like zardozi, zari, and chikan work used to create a truly regal and awe-inspiring piece. Every thread, every stone, and every motif is a testament to the mastery of Indian designers and artisans."

[3rdeyeblaque]

On September 10th we venerate Elevated Ancestor, Voodoo Queen of Louisiana, & Saint, Marie Catherine Laveau on her 222nd birthday 🎉

[for our Hoodoos of the Vodou Pantheon]

Marie Catherine Laveau was a dedicated Hoodoo, healer, herbalist, & midwife who, "traveled the streets [of New Orleans] like she owned them", as the most infamous Voodoo Queen of New Orleans.

Marie C. Laveau I was born a "Free Mulatto" in today's French Quarter in what was then, New France); to a mother & grandmother who were both born into slavery & later freed via freedom papers. It is believed that she grew up in the St. Ann Street cottage of her maternal grandmother.

She married Jacques Santiago-Paris, a "Quadroon" "Free Man of Color", who fled as a refugee from Saint-Domingue, Haiti from the Haitian Revolution in the former French colony . After his passing, she became known as "The Widow Paris". She then worked as a hairdresser catering to White families & later entered a domestic partnership with a French nobleman his death. She excelled at obtaining inside information on her wealthy patrons by instilling fear in their servants whom she either paid or cured of mysterious ailments. Although she never abandoned her Catholic roots, she became increasingly interested in her mother’s African traditional beliefs. The Widow Paris learned her craft from a ‘Voodoo doctor’ known variously as Doctor John or John Bayou.

Marie C. Laveau I is said to have intiated into Voodoo career sometime in the 1820s. She's believed to be descended from a long line of Voodoo Priestesses, all bearing her same name. She was also a lifelong devout Catholic. It didn’t take long before Marie C. Laveau I dominated New Orleans Voodoo culture & society before claiming title of Queen. She was the 3rd Voodoo Queen of NOLA - after Queen Sanité Dédé & Queen Marie Salopé. During her decades tenure, she was the premier beacon of hope and service to customers seeking private consultations - to aid in matters such as family disputes, health, finances, etc, created/sold gris gris, perforemed exorcisms. While her daughter Marie II was known for her more theatrical displays of public events, Marie C. Laveau I was less flamboyant in her persona. She conducted her work in 3 primary locations throughout the city: her home on St. Ann Street, Congo Square, & at Lake Pontchartrain. Despite one account of a challenge to her authority in 1850, Marie C. Laveau I maintained her leadership & influence.

The Queen died peacefully in her sleep in her ole cottage home on St. Ann Street. Her funeral was conducted according to the rite of the Catholic Church & in the absence of any Voodoo rites. To her Voodoo followers, she's venerated as a Folk Saint. In² addition to her Priesthood in Voodoo and title of Queen, she is also remembered for her community activism; visiting prisoners, providing lessons to women of the community, & doing ritual work for those in need.

She is generally believed to have been buried in plot 347, the Glapion family crypt in Saint Louis Cemetery No. 1, New Orleans. As of March 1st, 2015, there is no longer public access to St. Louis Cemetery No. 1. Entry with a tour guide is required due to continued vandalism & tomb raiding.

We pour libations & give her💐 today as we celebrate her for her love for & service to the people, through poverty, misfortune, bondage, & beyond.

Offering suggestions: flowers + libations at her grave, catholic hymns, holy water, gold rings/bracelets, money

‼️Note: offering suggestions are just that & strictly for veneration purposes only. Never attempt to conjure up any spirit or entity without proper divination/Mediumship counsel.‼️

[0-n-1-x]

Carmy x Gymnast!reader Headcanons

link to my masterlist <33

-I'm gonna start this off on a real note, yall are definitely like Simone Biles and Mr. Simone Biles

-Both of you have a strong drive for excellence—yours in gymnastics and his in the culinary world. You bond over your shared commitment to perfecting your craft. Carmen admires your dedication and discipline, often drawing parallels between the precision required in gymnastics and the meticulous attention to detail needed in fine dining.

-he's definitely the type to almost get in a fight with a judge after you get a point off for slight mistakes

-and you can't tell me this guy wouldn't take care of your meal prep and such so you don't have to worry about it <33 (he wouldn't let anyone else be your dietitian and he'd be soo protective about it)

-I feel like you guys wouldnt have the problem most of carmy x readers have (him being at the restaurant too much) because when he's at the restaurant you're at the gym

-As you prepare for the Olympics, Carmen is your biggest cheerleader. He attends your competitions whenever possible, proudly sporting your team’s colors and cheering you on from the stands. He’s impressed by your performances and the sheer level of skill you demonstrate on the world stage. If he can't make to Paris, best believe he's breaking the no phone rule and is watching you 24/7

-Despite your busy schedules, you both make time for quiet moments together. Whether it’s a late-night dinner after your training sessions or a cozy evening in where Carmy cooks for you and you share stories from your day, these moments are precious and help you both relax and recharge.

-And do not think that if the USA wins gold, he wouldn't have a whole thing at the restaurant (golden cake slices, mocktails, and your routine songs on loop)

-Carm is incredibly proud of you and often shows it in not-so-subtle ways. He 100% brags about your achievements to friends and family, if you have a competition during a family event, he is not listening to anyone and is taking over the tv no matter how much yelling it causes.

-He’ll also create a special space in his restaurant dedicated to celebrating your gymnastics milestones, showcasing photos and mementos from your journey, right alongside his own and the restaurant staff's.

-When you inevitably face setbacks or injuries, Carmy is a rock for you. He provides comfort and encouragement, helping you stay positive and focused on your recovery.

-in total Carmen is definitely your number one fan, even when you were just beginning <33

[breelandwalker]

(Spawned by this post and done separately bc I didn't want to derail.)

Folk magic traditions and folk medicine, historically speaking, tend to rely heavily on regionally-available resources. Whatever was growing in their particular biome was what got used. So we see many many plants with overlapping usages or correspondence. And it may SEEM repetitive in an age where we can source pretty much whatever we want or need from the internet or from local stores that import herbs and spices.

White sage and palo santo are excellent examples, but we can also look at things that are closer to home. Consider, for instance, the humble peppercorn.

Native to the India, black pepper is one of the oldest known spices in the world, with usage records going back over 5000 years, and is a staple ingredient in most household spice cabinets. Even the blandest, most white-bread kitchens will at least have salt and pepper on hand, and pepper has a plethora of magical uses from protection to cleansing to fertility to warding off bad luck and malefic magic.

AND YET. Black pepper used to be the most expensive spice in the western world. Literally worth its' weight in gold in the ancient, classical, and medieval periods. It was used by physicians to treat a variety of digestive complaints and was believed to reverse the effects of certain poisons. It was so valuable, people used to pay their rent with it, much in the way that Roman soldiers once received salt as part of their wages. It wasn't until the Renaissance that black pepper started to be affordable for an average household as trade expanded and other substances like coffee, cocoa, and saffron gained in popularity.

So we might easily reach for a courtesy pepper packet for a quick banishing or protection ritual today, but that's not something the average medieval English peasant looking to ward off bad luck or keep evil spirits out of their house would have access to. But what they DID have was rowan trees. And we see many references in the folk magic of the British Isles to rowan boughs or rowan berries being using for protection, fertility, cleansing, and the warding-off of misfortune and magical harm.

So instead of going right for the white sage or palo santo, why not try smoke-cleansing with rosemary and bay leaf? They have the same magical properties and are much more affordable and readily available, plus that added bonus of, yanno, avoiding culturally appropriative or overharvested plants.

Anyway, point is, widespread availability is all well and good, but you'd be surprised just how much you can find in your own backyard and how useful it can be in your craft.

[tylermileslockett]

Zeus

“I will sing of Zeus, chiefest among the gods and greatest, all-seeing, the lord of all, the fulfiller who whispers words of wisdom to Themis as she sits leaning towards him. Be gracious, all-seeing Son of Cronos, most excellent and great!”

(Homeric Hymn, translated by H.G. Evelyn white)

ZEUS, (zoos) King of the Olympians, sits upon his throne high atop the golden palaces of Mount Olympus. The king of the sky and thunder holds aloft his blazing lightning bolt, which was crafted by the Cyclopes. Above, float his winged enforcers, Nike (victory), Bia (force) Zelos (rivalry) and Kratos (strength). Zeus is the Lord of prophecy, relaying them to his radiant son, Apollo, who relates them to the Pythia; the oracle priestess at the temple of Apollo at Delphi. 

Most of us are accustomed to seeing Zeus portrayed as an older man, with white hair and white beard. But in fact, to the ancient Greeks, Zeus was portrayed as middle-aged, with black hair and beard. Remember that Zeus was last born to the titaness Rhea, (before his siblings were swallowed by his father, Cronus) technically making Zeus the youngest of the Olympians. 

The Oracle at Dodona, in northwestern Greece, was a temple site dedicated to Zeus. Here the priests and priestesses used a form of divination involving the rustling sounds of the oak tree and its leaves to gain prophecies. 

Zeus is also known for his insatiable lust; transforming into animals like an eagle, swan, or bull (and even a shower of gold!) to pursue his conquests of female mortals and deities alike. 

Thanks for looking and reading!

If you like this art, Please support my upcoming kickstarter:https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/tylermileslockett/lockett-illustrated-greek-gods-and-heroes

[nihalsthings]

Some other artifacts from Ephesus.

What's so significant about this location is the fact that it was home to many different, great civilizations including ancient greeks, imperial romans and early christians, and it is said to be founded by Amazonians. It was first built in 10th century BC, but recent excavations stretched the timeline all the way back to 6000 BC. The intricate works made out of stone, ivory, clay, marble, copper and gold carry the fingerprints of so many different cultures. It's hard not to feel amazed by such a big piece of human history while walking around.

Tiny cups with powder are make-up containers. Just imagine the greek or roman woman who use these to have her make-up done, and go out to see the play in the great theatre nearby, which had the capacity of 20k people! Right below them are surgical tools, crafted in great detail.

Tiny egyptian priest statute is a bonus and was a lovely surprise to see here. It was naturally a low-light environment so the photos aren't excellent, but I did my best.

[drama--universe]

We have to "talk"

Requested by anonymous: Hi this is my first time ever requesting something, so I’m sorry if it’s a little awkward! Can I request Vincenzo x Reader? The reader was Vincenzo’s families hacker and then left because of personal issues and moved to Korea, but then they bump into Vincenzo and it’s a super cute reunion? I know you mainly write for Hanseok so if you don’t write for Vincenzo himself please ignore this :-)

Pairing: Vincenzo Cassano x reader

Word Count: 1.8k words

Warnings: small plot changes, fighting, blood

A/N Italics is Italian, normal is Korean

It was difficult to say goodbye to the people before you, all of them were practically your second family. They had partly raised you as their own, teaching you their ways as you grew while learning the craft of hacking. It was a slow process, but thanks to the years of practice you could proudly say that you were excellent in doing what needed to be done. Yet your family, your birth family, needed you. Your father had passed and your mother was unable to provide for herself due to an accident, so you had to go whether you wanted to or not.

"May you travel safe and if you ever need us, we're a call away." Fabio spoke, his voice was quick to soothe your worries as you nodded at the man that you called father. With a final smile to him, you turned around and walked to the car. Your hand paused on the door handle, so many thoughts were racing through your mind. The most frequent one was, where was Vincenzo? You and him had grown up together, bonding over the fact that you were similar in age and that both of you spoke Korean. So him not being here hurt you slightly and made you heart ache.

Wiping the thoughts from your mind, you pulled open the door and climbed in. Finding it too hot inside, you quickly lowered the window as the car started driving. The car sped up, passing by the gate and there Vincenzo stood. Lighter in one hand and a briefcase in the other, probably holding some important documents that he needed for blackmail or some shady deal. His eyes connected to yours, a look of confusion flashing on his face and disappearing just as quickly. He only bowed his head at you before both of you continued on your way.

For your own sake, you needed to forget about Vincenzo and your love for him.

"No, no, no. He's really good looking, definitely my type!" Miri was talking happily, although many wouldn't see it with her stoic expression, and you could only chuckle at the girl's antics. Although you should be rivals thanks to your hacker persona's, the two of you hit it off fairly easily due to your skills. You both learned from each other and soon learned that business and personal life were completely different. That was, of course, before she took a break from hacking. Now, it was only you that continued with such work while she somewhat protected her own. You found her story quite hilarious when you first heard it, the fact that she lived on top of gold was not something anyone could so casually say and yet she did.

"Then you should ask him out." You sipped your drink with another teasing smile, one that Miri could only roll her eyes at as she took a sip of her own coffee.

"Vincenzo Cassano is out of my league, I dare not to." Although her tone of speaking was meant to be joking, you couldn't laugh. Not with the name she just spoke, all be it a bit mispronounced. His voice awoke something in your mind, almost like a wave crashing over you and returning all memories that you so desperately tried to bury in your mind.

"Vincenzo?" You asked, just to be sure of what she said. When Miri nodded at you, you quickly rose to your feet and took ahold of her hand.

"He lives in your complex, right?" You asked and Miri uttered a yes, confusion written all over her face as you rushed off with your jacket and bag. You ignored the people in your way, dodging them as you ran through the streets to where Miri lived. You knew it well enough, you had visited her a few times before and the residents were always incredibly nice whenever you did visit. When you ran into Geumga Plaza, you were greeted with a particular sight. A man, hanging out of the window. He seemed in despair, but that was not what caught your attention. Rather, the man that held him was much more interesting. The man you once loved, maybe even still loved, was leaning on the windowsill with a smirk as he held up the other man.

Vincenzo Cassano.

He was teasing the man that he held, stretching one finger after another to scare his hostage. After some shouting, however, he pulled up the man. You stared at Vincenzo from down below, only moving again when you heard cursing from the people behind you. Then you raced upstairs.

Vincenzo was surrounded by the residents, praises falling from their lips. You didn't care much for that, instead you made your way closer until you stood close enough to hear them.

"Miss (Y/n)! Nice to see you again!" Toto was the first to spot and greet you, his usual smile on his face and you wanted to smile back. You really did, but it was impossible to do so as Vincenzo turned around to face you. It took him a few seconds, but when he realized his eyes widened slightly in shock. You took it as a hint, rushing forward and embracing him. Once he was in your arms, you didn't want to let him go anymore. Yet you had to, you wanted to see his face and ask him why he was here. When you pulled back, he was quick to guide you away from the group and to his apartment.

Once you two had entered, Vincenzo was quick to hug you again. You buried your face in his chest, tightly hugging the man as you tried to keep your emotions in check.

"I didn't think we'd meet again." His voice was soft, muffled due to the fact that his face was buried in your hair. You heard him, nonetheless, and pulled back again before taking ahold of his face. You inspected him closely, looking for any sign that he was injured in the years that you were away. When you found nothing, you let out a soft sigh before asking him why he was here.

"Nothing you should worry about, angela." He said, the nickname rolling from his tongue with ease. You remember well enough how the nickname came into existence, something that you always cringed at. Only because you sprouted the name 'Angelo' to him when you first met him and to tease you, he had called you the same ever since.

"When I see you I can not help but worry." You told him like it was a matter of fact, which it honestly was if you thought about it, and the man before you could only smile before cupping your face in his hands.

"I missed you dearly." He said and you almost smiled as he spoke in Italian, the accent coming through quite heavily. You returned the sentiment with a soft kiss on his cheek, giving him a small smile before detaching yourself from his arms. It was proven a bit more difficult than expected, the man was firm to not let you go. And one thing was certain, a determined Vincenzo was impossible to beat. Then again, you wouldn't be trying to get out if you didn't know a trick to win from him. So once you were successfully escaped, you only gave another smile before leaving the apartment.

"Please, you're in love with her!" Cha-Young cackled as she watched Vincenzo stare at you, clearly a bit annoyed as he watched you conversed with Han-Seo. The younger man was happily talking to you, after all you were the only one who wasn't hostile to him. Reason for that, you already knew everything about the boy after looking at (hacking into) his profile and thus you knew that the man wasn't any danger to you. Besides, he was cute as he gleamed every time you send a compliment his way.

"I'm not." "Oh, please! Even a blind man could see!" Cha-Young didn't give up, continuing her teasing with a bright smile. She turned in her chair, facing you before glancing back at Vincenzo.

"I thought you were a consigliere for the mafia. You act like a highschooler in love." She sighed loudly, to which Vincenzo only rolled his eyes. Then again, he couldn't refute her claims. Not when his heart was beating out of his chest everytime you laughed and his head was screaming at him to separate you from Han-Seo, his mind clouded with jealousy. Maybe it was obvious, because when your eyes connected with his you let out a short giggle before focusing back on your conversation.

"You're hopeless." Cha-Young had enough, getting up and walking out of the room while dragging Joo-Sung and Han-Seo with her so that you and Vincenzo would be alone. You shook your head, it was quite obvious what had happened just now. You glanced at Vincenzo before moving closer, sitting on his desk before turning to face him again. Now he basically sat in between your legs, but didn't seem uncomfortable by it at all. Although you could see some form of embarrassment thanks to the blush on his ears.

"I need to finish my work." "It can wait, we need to talk." You stated and Vincenzo made an annoyed face, but you knew well enough that it meant nothing. So instead you grabbed the sides of his chair and pulled him closer until he actually sat in between your legs. He looked up at you and you smiled at him before leaning down, softly kissing the tip of his nose with a big grin. A dark blush spread over Vincenzo's face and you giggled as you watched the consigliere.

"So, what were you and Cha-Young talking about?" You asked, but your voice gave away that you already knew the subject. So instead of answering, Vincenzo just rolled back before getting up and trapping you in between his arms as he leaned on the desk. You weren't fazed by it, you had seen his worst side already and you knew well enough that he wouldn't harm you.

"Might it have been about a certain crush." You teased as you threw your arms around his neck, pulling him down slightly to meet your own height. The blush on his face was slowly disappearing, but it quickly appeared again when you leaned closer until your noses touched.

"Then again, I'm the same way." You smiled one final time before you pushed your lips against his. Vincenzo froze in the spot, not reacting immediatley. Once out of his trance, he was quick to lean into the kiss as his arms lifted from the desk to wrap around your waist instead. He took the lead quite quickly, pushing against you while also pulling you closer to himself. Both of your minds were blank, only focused on each other until you couldn't breath anymore. He stared at you before smirking softly, leaning back and pulling you a bit closer again.

"We should talk more often."

[clairedaring]

you mention that aelm is in your list of actors who are meticulous in their craft, can you share that list of actors of yours

hi nonnie :D

DISCLAIMER: this is just a very subjective list of young actors (young: born after 1990) who i think have really diverse and impressive performances. while not all my ult actors jj krissanapoom, up poompat... are present, i don't think of them any less. just that these are people who i've been most impressed with their transformation from one role to another.

1. NONKUL CHANON

I really will praise Nonkul every chance I get. I do think Nonkul is an actor who is constantly trying to hone his craft regardless of his experiece. I also like that as a member of THACCA, Nonkul is really active in initiating capacity building activities with his working group for the industry like these TOSAA roundtable discussions.

2. TOR THANAPOB

I love how much Tor relentlessly work with the thought of he could retire anytime soon. I remember earlier this year tracking to see which series has more filming queues (Nonkul's Mouse or Tor's My Cherie Amour because both series were over 70 filming queues). And yet immediately after MCA, Tor jumped directly into filming Spare Me Your Mercy so we could get it in November 28 (NEXT WEEK). He's just so hardworking and I love that these days he's been slowly picking his scripts so that his repertoire can be diversified (so he doesn't get boxed as the "actor who's only good at dramatic/intense roles). My Cherie Amour really proved that he's perfect for romcoms and I sincerely hope its successful performance has given him more confidence to do more comedy works in the future.

3. ICE NATARA

I've found in making this list and the actors whose performances have astounded me are often the ones who don't have too many projects at all, or they really take time to pick and choose their scripts. Even though he got his first start as a model, Ice has really proven himself through performances in GDH film One For The Road or Netflix TH series Delete. I seriously got a huge whiplash when I watched Delete because I couldn't believe the same actor playing that bulky villainous plantation owner is the same cancer-battling protagonist in One For The Road.

like allow me to just add one more gif because him filming Delete right after One For The Road is exactly the reason why Ice Natara totally deserved both the Suphannahong Award and Nataraj Award for these roles of his.

4. PEACH PACHARA

Born into the fourth richest family in Thailand, you'd think Peach Pachara wouldn't survive the nepo baby actor allegations. Oh but he did, not only did he survive, I think he's succesfully made a career for himself in doing everything that he loves like running his own snack business (anyone has tried his Potato Corner yet?), composing music scores for his series, and starring in whatever series he wants at his own pace.

Unlike the other actors on this list, I think Peach particularly excels at his "bad boy, asshole, occasionally with a heart of gold" character typecasting that I actually don't mind most of his roles being in the same color. Peach always gets the best characterisations for his roles so even if its a nonsensical comedy like Bat War or angsty lakorn like The Root or heist drama like The Believers, I can always trust Peach to deliver fully and exactly what his character promises in the first place.

just leaving these here bc he's such a sassy little rich dude. i adore him.

5. JAMES TEERADON

Love that James has been fully investing in his culinary journey for the past 3 years but he never really leaves us and sometimes come back with an interesting script. This year alone, we finally got James back in heist drama The Believers and time-loop romcom Love Stuck. Similar to others on this list, James really takes time choosing his acting projects but one thing I know is that he will never settle for an uninspiring script.

6. AELM BHUMIBHAT

My first introduction to Aelm was through 2019 GDH film Happy New Year. But it was actually his performance in Doi Boy that made me deep dive into his filmography and I'm just completely in awed of his acting methodologies and his chosen projects. Not always something digestable, often very niche and indie but Aelm is always killing his roles, an absolute scene stealer. His conversation with Pat Chayanit solidified him on this list for me. I can't wait for more fans to discover him through Spare Me Your Mercy. Personally though, I'm actually more excited to watch him play a cult-ish villain? in the Buddhist themed episode of Tomorrow and I (coming to Netflix this December 4)

7. UD AWAT

i don't think i need to say anything about ud awat. his series of posts (1, 2, 3, his goodbye post devastated me) talking about his transformation into Sorn for Doi Boy is testament to his love for acting. i'm actually forever grateful that Doi Boy came at a time when ud was considering leaving acting altogether because it truly "reignited [his] love for acting" for him and that passion in the film is just so palpable.

8. FILM THANAPAT

no words. i love this man. film is truly one31's most reliable leading actor. end of story. i don't think one31 will ever let him go but i do hope one day netflix thailand will score him for an original series because i sincerely believe he can bring even more to the table with a series that isn't written within the constraints of one31 script team.

honorable mentions: GEE SUTTHIRAK

I'd say Gee was my favorite discovery this year because I binged so much of his works like Sweet Sensory, Terror Tuesday: Extreme, The Cheery Lee Village Headman, The Betrayal, My Boo. My only qualm is that I don't think his other Workpoint lakorns (6th Sense Agency, The Scent of Hers) are that good but like they seem to love keeping Gee busy. Waiting to see Gee in Tomorrow and I, @ netflix thailand pls keep this man busy I beg

SKY WONGRAVEE

this cockroach scene alone earns him a spot on this list. ngl i would love to see him back in gdh led productions but i don't think we can get that back soon :')

BRIGHT RAPHEEPHONG

i feel kinda robbed that bright worked so hard this year, filming THREE projects consectively (two series and a film) but only the film came out. ch3 refuses to air his shelved lakorn as well. i have no hope for monomax in making his series available with engsub but i will definitely do my best in giffing his series with linn mashannoad and ken phupoom next year.

POOM PHURIPAN

the reason i hesitate adding poom in here is because i feel like his acting approach is still very instinctive and he hasn't really had many chances to develop his own methodologies to approaching his characters because his roles at ch8 were pretty much the same every time. it's really obvious that he's got potential and he just needs the right script, producers and director to bring out the acting skills he's gained from starring in dramatic lakorns. regardless, he obviously goes on the list because he's given my favorite acting performance of the year. period.

final note: you can very much tell that i'm biased because more than half of this list is gdh/nadao actors, but thank you for sending this ask nonetheless so i can share my love for these actors.

[brodygold]

Something Fresh

Brody had always been focused on taking the Golden Army to new heights. The team was already a dominating force on the field, known for their discipline, athleticism, and commitment to excellence. But Brody knew the team needed something fresh to stay on top. That’s when his mind went to nutrition. The meals that fueled the Golden Army’s players had to be top-notch, crafted with care to enhance their performance. Brody wasn’t just looking for any chefs; he wanted chefs who would dedicate themselves completely to the team.

After extensive research, he found two young, talented chefs who were making a name for themselves in the culinary world. Alex and Matt had the skills Brody needed, but what he really wanted was their loyalty. Total loyalty.

That’s where the special VR headsets came into play. Originally designed to enhance focus for athletes, Brody had reprogrammed them to reshape not just how a person thought but who they were. He wanted to invite Alex and Matt to the Golden Army’s state-of-the-art facilities under the guise of a job offer, and then immerse them in a world where they would become devoted members of the Golden Army, body and soul.

The first to arrive was Alex. He was in his mid-twenties, with short, neatly styled brown hair and a fit build that reflected his healthy lifestyle. When Brody reached out to discuss the possibility of working with the Golden Army, Alex was thrilled. He had no idea what Brody really had in mind.

As Alex stepped into the Golden Army’s impressive facilities, he couldn’t help but feel awestruck. The sprawling complex was filled with cutting-edge equipment and luxurious lounges, all with views of the pristine training fields. Brody greeted him with a broad grin and a firm handshake.

“Bro, I’m glad you could make it! This place is incredible, right?” Brody said, guiding Alex through the halls.

“Absolutely! It’s way beyond what I expected,” Alex replied, excitement bubbling in his voice.

Brody led him to a sleek, modern lounge, where a comfortable chair and a VR headset awaited. “So here’s the deal, bro. We’ve been working on some advanced tech that can really enhance your focus and performance. I thought you’d want to check it out.”

Alex looked intrigued. “I’ve heard about VR tech for training, but I’ve never used it myself.”

Brody flashed a confident smile. “You’re in for a treat, bro. Just take a seat, and I’ll show you how it works.”

Alex settled into the chair, slipping the VR headset over his eyes. As the device powered on, the world around him faded away, replaced by a stunningly realistic kitchen environment. He found himself standing in a gleaming kitchen, the countertops adorned with polished gold accents and state-of-the-art appliances. Everything felt immaculate and oddly calming.

In front of him hung a perfectly tailored golden suit jacket, alongside a crisp white dress shirt and a black bow tie. The sight felt familiar, almost like it was calling to him.

“Bro, this is where you belong now,” Brody’s voice echoed through the headset, smooth and hypnotic. “You’re not just a chef anymore; you’re part of something bigger—the Golden Army.”

Alex took a step closer, reaching out to touch the golden suit jacket. It felt soft and powerful in his hands. He slowly slipped it on, and as he did, it molded perfectly to his frame. The white shirt and black bow tie completed the look, giving him an undeniable air of authority.

“Bro, you’re gonna love this,” Brody continued. “You will never take off this uniform. It symbolizes your commitment to the Golden Army. You cook for them, you live for them. You belong to the team now.”

In the virtual world, Alex felt a wave of purpose wash over him. He was no longer just a chef; he was essential to the Golden Army’s success. The thought of returning to his old life faded away as he immersed himself in his new identity. He could already picture the players enjoying the meals he prepared, their success intertwined with his efforts.

Brody watched with satisfaction as Alex relaxed into the chair, fully absorbed by the VR headset. The transformation was complete. Alex had been reshaped, and the headset would remain in place, keeping him locked in this new reality where his loyalty to the Golden Army was absolute. The golden suit jacket was now a symbol of that loyalty, and it would never come off.

With Alex now under control, Brody turned his attention to the second chef—Matt. Matt was a bit older, with a rugged, athletic build that spoke to his years of experience. He had a reputation for creating high-energy meals for athletes, and Brody knew he’d be a perfect addition to the Golden Army. But just like with Alex, he needed to ensure that Matt’s commitment was complete.

When Matt arrived, Brody greeted him with the same warm smile and handshake. “Yo, Matt! Great to see you, bro! We’ve got something really cool lined up for you today.”

Matt looked around the lounge, noticing Alex sitting still with the VR headset on. “What’s up with him?” he asked, an amused expression on his face.

“Oh, he’s just trying out some new tech, bro,” Brody replied casually. “You’ll get your chance soon enough. It’s a game changer.”

Brody led Matt to the same chair and handed him the second VR headset. “Alright, bro, put this on. You’re gonna love it. It’s designed to enhance focus and performance, and I think you’ll find it fascinating.”

Matt eyed the headset with curiosity, then shrugged and slipped it on. As the device powered on, he was transported to the same dazzling kitchen Alex had experienced. Everything was pristine, the golden accents gleaming in the virtual light. Waiting for him was a golden suit jacket, a crisp white dress shirt, and a black bow tie, all perfectly arranged.

“Welcome, bro,” Brody’s voice filled the headset, guiding Matt deeper into the experience. “This is your place now. You are more than just a chef. You are part of the Golden Army, and your work is crucial to the team’s success.”

Matt felt a sense of pride swell within him as he stepped forward to claim the golden suit jacket. Slipping it on over the white dress shirt felt empowering, as though he was accepting a new identity. The black bow tie completed the ensemble, and he admired how professional he looked in the mirror.

“Bro, you’re not just cooking; you’re fueling champions,” Brody continued, his voice smooth and authoritative. “You will wear this uniform always. It’s part of your commitment to the team.”

As the hypnotic suggestions seeped deeper into his mind, Matt found himself imagining preparing meals for the Golden Army players. He saw their grateful faces, their success tied to his efforts. His old life faded away, replaced by a singular purpose: to serve the Golden Army.

“Never take off the uniform, bro,” Brody repeated firmly. “You belong here. You will serve the Golden Army, body and mind. The headset stays on. The uniform stays on.”

Matt nodded slowly, his thoughts now completely consumed by the virtual world. “I will, bro. I’ll serve the team.”

Brody watched with satisfaction as both chefs, now fully hypnotized and dressed in their golden suits, stood motionless in the room. Their minds had been reshaped, their identities transformed. They were no longer just Alex and Matt, but were now the chefs of the Golden Army, dedicated to the team’s success in every possible way.

With their golden suit jackets on and their loyalty secured, Brody knew the Golden Army had just gained two crucial members, bound forever to the cause. The headsets would never come off, and neither would the uniforms. The Golden Army was stronger than ever, and Brody couldn’t help but smile at the thought of the delicious meals that would fuel their future victories.

The Golden Army had something fresh in store.