#Maiden Voyage Pictures

[demifiendrsa]

NOSFERATU (2024) - Official Trailer

Poster

Synopsis

Robert Eggers’ NOSFERATU is a gothic tale of obsession between a haunted young woman and the terrifying vampire infatuated with her, causing untold horror in its wake.

[catgirljaneway]

Voyager Text Posts: Strange Promo Pics Version

Voy + Textposts 3

(Voy + Textposts 2) + (Voy + Textposts 4)

[n3on-graveston3s-calling]

Dinner & Diatribes

Series: Think I Need Someone Older

Word Count: 4,840

Rating: E

Characters: Dracule Mihawk, Fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut. Pure smut. Mihawk is on his knees for you and he is hungry.

Tags: Smut, cunnilingus, eating out, squirting, fingering, Mihawk being a tease, cannibalism as an allegory for love and/or sex

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

The island was larger than you had initially thought. With how Dracule had explained it, the picture you’d painted in your mind was something more akin to Windmill Village. But this- oh, this towering city floating in the middle of the sea was everything and more. Canals that traced through each level, making essential roads that yagura-led -gondolas wound through. Water 7, the legendary floating city full of shipwrights, pirates, and civilians alike. One of the very few places without a strong Marine presence- a relief for you.

The two of you had met a few years prior. One thing led to another, which led to a room in an inn, which led to you sobbing and begging for him to not stop. Now, anytime the two of you having been in the same place at the same time, hitching a ride hadn’t been much of an issue. A break from your own crew for a “date night” as your First Mate had put it, much to your annoyance.

“Here,” Dracule murmured, reaching a hand down to grasp your own, helping you step down onto the dock. The sound of laughter and yelling drew your attention away, gaze trailing over the shipwrights and dock yards. You’d heard stories of Water 7, but had never found a reason to seek out the aid of the legendary builders. Yet here you were; as he led you away from the ship, you found yourself distracted by the large galleons that were being built, repaired, or setting sail on their maiden voyages.

“This is… Wow,” you breathed out a laugh, shaking your head at the craftsmanship. “Now that I’m here, I can only picture what’s wrong with my own ship,” not necessarily a joke, though your tone made it sound as such. Dracule hummed as he dropped your hand, his own gaze sharp.

A target on the back- one for each of you separately, and a much larger one for you two to be spotted together. But who would dare encroach upon Dracule Mihawk? Haughty swordsmen who thought themselves better than the Greatest, that was who. Luckily, it seemed that reputation did matter in Water 7, as the two of you were given a large berth. “I’ve business I need to attend to before our dinner,” his voice drew you from your thoughts; you glanced up, meeting the keen golden eyes of your not so secret lover. “The hotel I’ve booked is two tiers up. Take the yagura to this address,” always demanding, he placed a slip of paper into your grasp. “I’ll be there soon.”

“What, no time to stroll along with me?” You teased, stepping closer. He tensed, but didn’t push you away- no, rather, he drew you even closer with a hand upon your waist, pulling you flush to his own form.

“If I remained with you, I would get nothing done.” He leaned down, lips brushing against your own in a ghost of a kiss. “And I would much rather save that for after our dinner.” A nip of his teeth against your lip had you gasping before he pulled away, adjusting his hat. He turned sharply on his heel and ducked down an alleyway- and within moments, you lost sight of him.

Not even a goodbye.

With a sigh, you turned to flag down a yagura to ride on. While you wanted to spend time exploring the city- the knowledge of what this night could bring was sitting at the forefront of your mind, making you adjust your skirt to cross your thighs a touch tighter. Even so, you did enjoy the sights you were able to see: a grand water fountain, plenty of storefronts that looked promising, restaurants that you were certain were above your normal indulgence range.

It wasn’t long before the yagura- a sweet thing that had more spots than you’d ever seen on one- pulled up to the front of a large hotel. Nearly four floors tall, you felt your heart stop as you looked at the people coming and going from it. You were almost- no, you WERE certain- some of these people were famous. With their clothing, the way they had their own security detail- oh, Mihawk, what did you do? You stepped from the yagura onto the sidewalk and reached over to offer it a gentle pet on the snout before turning towards the front. The door was covered with a black awning- and had a red carpet leading beyond golden doors. The outside architecture was elegant- older, speaking back to a time before you had been born, but beautifully attended to.

You felt under dressed. Clenching your jaw, you made your way inside, ignoring the sideways glances sent your way as you approached the front desk. “I have a room.” You stated with confidence, chin raised, gaze level with the man behind the desk.

“Name?”

“It should be beneath Mihawk.”

“You-… You are his guest, I presume?” Stumbling over his words for a moment, the concierge leaned down to procure a golden key with the room number etched onto the body. “You will be staying on the top floor. The Garnet Suite.” He rushed to explain, gesturing to someone behind you to take your bag from your shoulder. “Please- let us know if there is anything- anything- you desire.”

“Thank you.” You glanced to the bellhop curiously- a petite woman whose eyes were wide in awe as she followed you to the elevator. “How long have you worked here?” You asked as she rang the elevator.

“Only a few months,” she answered quietly, her cheeks rosy. “Sure must be important to be… His guest.”

“You think so?” You teased, watching the way her mouth opened and closed a few times before she bobbed her head quickly, dirty blonde hair swaying with the movement. “I think you’re right. I mean- if you can keep a secret?”

“I can!”

“He isn’t the only one with a large bounty on his head.” You winked as you stepped into the elevator. She followed after with an expression reading of awe. It took her a moment to close the door and to select the floor- but that was alright. “You aren’t used to pirates, yet?”

“No, ma’am. I’m still… This is all new to me. I’m not even from here! I just- I wanted to see more of the world, and Water 7 is the social hub!”

“Where are you from?”

“The North Blue, ma’am.”

“You certainly are a long way from home, then!” You couldn’t help but smile fondly; she was sweet, this bellhop. She still had a lot to learn, certainly, but she would do well. “What’s your name?”

“Liliana, ma’am.”

“Well, Liliana- I think I can handle it from here. But thank you for helping me,” you opened the coin purse that hung from your hip, fishing out a few berries that had her eyes widening even further, if that were possible. “For your trouble.”

“Oh, thank you!” Her grin was bright as you stepped out into the hall. “Thank you very much!” She reached out to grasp the door, shutting it once more. Turning, you made your way to the room; plaques hung beside each door with the name of the room.

Ruby, spinel, jasper… Ah, garnet. They must separate floors by the colors of gemstones, you thought to yourself as you unlocked the door. Stepping in, you had to pause to take in the sight. It was breathtaking; a large balcony separated by twin glass doors, covered with semi-sheer, off-white curtains. The bed was a four poster with black sheets; golden detailing was etched into the wood, but that wasn’t even the show stopper. No, it was the rest of the room. The walls were painted a rich garnet tone with ivory pillars set into the walls with decorative filigree carved into both stone and wood. As your head turned, you realized with a flush that it was one large room- the claw foot tub sat across from the bed, a shower tucked into the corner. Twin sinks were posed on either side, though a large mirror ran across the length, framed by gold.

How much had Dracule paid for this room alone? You were almost afraid to ask.

Closing the door behind yourself, the lock clicked into place. You set your bag down at the foot of the bed and crossed over to the large mahogany wardrobe, opening it, only to find that no, it wasn’t empty. A garment bag hung with a note scrawled in Mihawk’s hasty handwriting:

“Wear this for dinner.”

Curiosity piqued, you unzipped the bag and slipped the cloth off to reveal a stunning gown of ruby, silken in it’s make. Your size, you noted; draped collar with thin straps, the back plunging and crisscrossed with thin straps you knew were only there for decoration. A slit clear to what would be mid-thigh, too-

“Sweet Aphrodite, Mihawk.” You hissed, shaking your head as you turned away. Now it made sense, why he’d asked you to bring heels. Well, in the meantime- freshening up would be nice. You strolled over to the bath, fingers trailing along the ivory lip of the tub. This close to the mirror, you noticed that it gave a perfect view of the bed. Your lips curled in a mischievous smirk as you turned the tab on the tub. A glance to the left to the windows that offered a lovely view of the sky. No one could see in.

Perfect.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Someone had come to retrieve you- one of the waitstaff for the hotel. You’d had enough time to bathe, apply makeup, and dress before the man had arrived. The dress was, indeed, your size- clinging to your form in a way that could almost be considered sinful. The ruby tone caught the light regardless of which way you turned. You’d paired your lips with the dress, the red stark against your skin. As you entered the restaurant attached to the hotel, you felt eyes turn to take you in.

In that moment, you felt like the most important woman in the world. Your lips curved into a slow smile as you spotted your date, who was slowly rising to his feet. He’d forgone his normal wardrobe, though Yoru was leaning against the wall behind him. His own suit was black, tailored to fit him. “This was a pleasant surprise,” you greeted as he reached out, taking your hand in his.

He leaned in, brushing a kiss against your cheek. “You look delicious,” he murmured in your ear before pulling back to pull your chair out for you. A shudder threatened to dance across your skin as you settled down into the chair. Somewhere in the restaurant, a piano played live. “I hope the room met your expectations.”

“Met and exceeded,” you replied with a shake of your head. “This was too much- all of this-”

“Nonsense.” He waved a hand through the air as if to dispel your words. “For you? It’s worth it. I hope you don’t mind, I ordered wine for the table.”

“Perfect.” A vintage red, perfect to pair with dinner. As you glanced over the menu, you tried to ignore the prices listed. Expensive tastes; of course he’d have expensive taste. “You seem familiar with the island. How often have you visited?”

“A few times.” The dismissive tone had you rolling your eyes as the waiter approached. You gave your order- a pasta dish with white sauce paired with a side salad. Mihawk ordered a steak- medium rare, some sort of a pasta dish you weren’t familiar with, and informed the man that the desert would be to-go. You raised your brow at that, head tilting to study him. “To go?”

“Mhm.” He hummed as he sipped on his wine, gaze trailing along your bare arms, settling on your collarbones for a moment. He was right; the dress had been the perfect choice for you. “I don’t intend to linger here longer than necessary.” The hotel was perfect, one he was more than familiar with. He only hoped it was up to your expectations. “Why?”

“Just curious.” Your gaze slipped away, cheeks flushing under the intense stare. Your legs crossed under the table, thighs pressing closer to offer some relief to the pressure you felt beginning to build. “Did you finish whatever business you had?”

He nodded before settling his chin upon his palm. The hat was still on his head, hiding his features from most everyone at the restaurant- aside from yourself. “I did. Some repairs that I required to be finished tonight before we left in the morning.”

“A shame we have to leave so soon. This truly is a beautiful city…” You sighed, lip jutting out in a pout.

Across from you, Mihawk chuckled, shaking his head. “I’ve business to attend to after we finish here, you know that.”

“Some big meeting with the World Government, I’m aware. Tell me, what is so pressing?” No news had broken yet, but there were tensions that had certainly gotten the seas astir. “Or is that some secret you’d have to kill me for?”

“You know the answer to that, darling.” Mihawk purred, leaning back in his chair, a small smirk curving the corners of his lips upwards. He watched you squirm in your seat, affected by the threat and the rumble of his tone. Your fingers drummed upon the top of the table, a telltale giveaway of how much you were anticipating the events that would follow this dinner, much to his delight. “How did you like the room?”

“Oh!” Your attention returned fully, gaze sparkling as you gestured vaguely. “It’s stunning! The latticework was so intricate- and the filigree? Oh, Dracule, you outdid yourself this time. And don’t get me started on the way the room is set up? That four poster is simply to die for! And the bathtub? It was big enough that I couldn’t touch the other end- a perfect soaking tub.”

“So you enjoyed it?”

“Oh, certainly. The balcony is a fun touch. I had the doors open while I bathed to get that warm sea breeze…” You trailed off, worrying your lip for a moment before releasing it. “The mirror is interesting. Such a perfect angle for the bed…”

“So you noticed.”

“That hotel used to be a brothel, didn’t it?”

“Perhaps, once, many years ago. It no longer serves that purpose.”

“Tell me, Dracule- am I just a high priced whore to warm your bed?” You teased, foot settling on the inside of his calf. Slowly, you drug it up the inside of his leg, watching the way he tensed, the way his gaze darkened. “Someone who can take care of you? Take away all of those stressors-”

“The highest.” He interrupted, sitting up straighter as his gaze shifted to over your shoulder. Food. You smile as your plates are sat before you. “Thank you,” Mihawk dismissed the waiter with less than a glance.

You could have sworn you heard the boy mutter “prick” under his breath.

Conversation lapsed into silence as you ate. You had to hand it to the chef, he certainly knew what he was doing with his pasta. But your mind wasn’t on the pasta- it was on the way Dracule kept looking at you, as if you were the meat on his plate that he was devouring, rather than the steak that was rare enough it still bled, making its own gravy. How long had it been since the two of you had any time alone? Weeks, at this point. Between your own crew, your own plundering, and Mihawk’s schedule, finding any time to be alone had been difficult- until now.

A bag was presented along with the check as your plates were cleared away. “What did you order?” You whispered as he came around, pulling your seat out for you. You had a bit of a sweet tooth, something he was well aware of.

“Something sweet.” He replied as he left payment on the table before settling Yoru on his back once more. Once settled, he took hold of the bag in one hand while his other settled on the small of your back, leading you through the winding tables. Couples of all ages paused in conversation as you passed, shock and awe spread across their expressions.

You couldn’t help the rush of pride that swept through you. Yes, that’s right- Mihawk was yours. He was the one at your back. His hand was the one settled just above the curve of your ass. The one who had rented the hotel room, the one who had paid for your dinner, who had brought you here for time away from your crew- time alone with him.

You were his- and he, equally yours.

Crossing the lobby to the elevators, you shifted, moving his hand from your back to twine your fingers together. A soft hum pulled free from him at the movement, though you paid it no mind. He didn’t care, really- as long as he could touch you, that’s all that mattered to Mihawk. His hand gave yours a gentle squeeze as the bellhop opened the door for the elevator. A man this time, you noted as you two stepped in- and he stepped out quickly, face paling dramatically in a way that had you laughing.

Mihawk looked almost amused as he pulled the gate closed.

Alone, his hand pulled free to reach up, settling at the base of your neck, just above your spine. A gentle squeeze had your eyes falling closed, breath stuttering. “I believe I’m still hungry,” Mihawk sighed, tutting softly. “I suppose I’ll need to have my desert sooner rather than later.”

“Is that so?” You breathed out, features flushing as you reached your floor. You opened the gate quickly, stepping out ahead of Mihawk- who still had his hand on your neck, not allowing you to turn. Leading, guiding you to your room. “And here I was, thinking I had the sweet tooth.” You taunted, pulling the key free from your garter to unlock the door. An old habit- normally, a knife would have been there.

A gentle shove in had you stumbling forward. Mihawk kicked the door closed, already setting Yoru aside with great care. “Do you have any idea how delectable you are in that dress?” He murmured, turning as he clicked the lock into place. Your breath caught in your throat as he removed his hat, hanging it on the door handle- a habit you learned was to know if anyone tried to jimmy the lock to break in. “How I was tempted to cut dinner short just to rush you back up here? To feel the way your skin had warmed the silk.”

“No, I- I hadn’t realized you were affected that much.” He had a remarkable poker face, really. You stepped closer, meeting him halfway as his hands settled on your hips, tugging you closer. His fingers rucked up the fabric with how he gripped you in that moment. It was exhilarating as you reached up, cupping his cheeks as he studied you. “Then why don’t you do something about it?”

And so, he did.

Lifting you up with ease, hands gripping your thighs as he carried you to the bed. A squeal had escaped you at the sudden movement, though you couldn’t help the laughter that followed as he tossed you down. It was rare that Dracule became playful, but oh, how you relished it. The way he crawled over you, trapping you beneath his body- and within his kisses. Full of passion, you reached up to tangle a hand in his hair. One leg rose, hooking around his hips, tugging him down against yourself.

He hadn’t been the only one affected, after all.

“I could devour you,” Mihawk sighed into the kiss, trailing more down your jaw, to your throat, where he busied himself with making sure the world knew who you belonged to by leaving bruise after bruise. When he reached the juncture of neck and shoulder, he paused, teeth scraping the sensitive skin before biting down. A surprised yell escaped you, prompting you to tug on his hair. “May I?” He breathed against your skin, soothing the bite with a swipe of his tongue. “May I devour you? My dessert?”

“Mihawk,” you were panting already, heart hammering within your chest. His pupils were blown with lust, you noted; no doubt your own were the same. “Gods above, please. Please- I need you. I need you so badly, I ache for you.” You whined, shifting your hips as he sat up on his knees, tugging off the tie he wore, followed by the dress shirt- all but ripping it to remove it, tossing the ruined fabric aside.

He moved back off the bed, only to kneel at the end. You reached back, grabbing hold of the pillows to make things more comfortable for yourself- and for you, too. You tossed one down for him to kneel on, drawing a genuine smile from him as he shook his head. You placed a pillow behind your head, and one under yourself to raise your hips up. A better angle, you’d learned.

Carefully, he removed your heels, taking a moment to massage one foot, then the other. An appreciative hum pulled free from you as you settled back against the bed, eyes falling closed to enjoy the feeling of calloused hands smoothing across the smooth skin of your legs. A kiss was pressed to your right ankle, a nip at your calf that had your leg tensing momentarily. His hand settled behind your knee, prompting you to bend it, to settle it over his shoulder. And then- a gasp was ripped free at the feeling of his tongue laving a slow trail along the inside of your thigh. You sighed, eyes opening to study the ceiling, expecting for him to dive in-

Only to receive a bite on your left thigh. Your leg tensed once more before a surprised sound escaped as his tongue- his damned tongue- pressed against your core through your underwear. “Mihawk,” you whispered, hands fisting the lavish duvet beneath you.

“You’ve already soaked through your panties,” he taunted, turning his head to kiss at the juncture of your leg and pelvis. “What were you thinking about?” He mused as his fingers crept forward. Something clinked- you didn’t register what it was until cool metal pressed against the skin of your thigh. The Kogatana, you realized. “Was it this?”

“If you rip this pair, I’ll never forgive you.”

“I’ll buy you five of the same.”

“… That’s a good deal.” The sound of fabric ripping, of the flat of the blade pressing against your skin had goosebumps breaking out. He tugged your underwear off and away, the ruined fabric joining its predecessor- his shirt- on the ground somewhere. You’d find them later, it wasn’t important right now. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you watched as he carefully slid the Kogatana back into its sheath before removing it entirely from his neck. He looked up, meeting your gaze as he guided your thighs to settle back upon his shoulders. With a tug, he had you laying back once more with a breathless laugh that morphed into a moan as his tongue licked a slow path along your core.

Once.

Twice.

Three times before his thumbs settled on your lips, spreading you for him. “It’s almost like the nectar of the Gods,” he murmured against you, tongue laving against you from entrance to clit in firm, broad, warm strokes that had you gasping for air quicker than you thought possible. “I could get drunk off the taste.”

“Dracule,” you whined, a hand coming to settle in inky tresses, tugging none to softly, drawing a growl out from your lover.

In retaliation, he turned his head and nipped at your thigh, though it only drew a startled moan free. He returned to his goal, licking like a man starved, as if he truly did intend on eating you. His lips settled around your clit, creating a momentary vacuum that had your toes curling and your back arching. He hummed around you, tongue flicking over your clit quickly, mercilessly. Where he’d learned how to pleasure someone like this, you would never know. But by the Gods, you were melting against his mouth. “Oh, sweet Aphrodite,” you whimpered, hips shifting to grind against him, craving more stimulation. You needed, wanted, craved more.

“Greedy girl,” Mihawk growled, pulling back from your pussy to settle an arm over your hips, holding you down in place. “You’ll take what I give you, when I decide to give it. None of this nonsense.”

“Oh, you fucker,” you huffed, but try as you might, you could never move his arm. As you looked down at him, you caught a glimpse of yourself in that damned mirror, giving you pause. The dress was rucked up around your hips, your skin flushed in the soft light that spilled through the doors. And Mihawk was kneeling between your thighs- oh, you could watch him. You could watch the way his head bobbed with each pass of his tongue, the way his other hand was between his thighs, moving quickly-

Touching himself.

The knowledge sent a shudder through your body. “Good girl,” he murmured against your core, voice ragged. How close was he? Too close- he turned his full attention back to you, his now-free hand settling on your thigh. “So fucking wet, all for me.”

“You’re- oh, fuck- vocal tonight, aren’t you?”

Instead of answering, one of his fingers slid in smoothly, clear down to the knuckle, drawing a loud moan from you in retaliation. Slowly, he pumped, crooking his finger on the draw out to brush against your walls in a way that had you seeing stars- only from one damned finger. “Should see yourself,” he sighed, shaking his head. “Greedy, greedy girl- already weeping around my finger. Do you need another one?”

“Please!” You cried out as he withdrew his fingers, only to replace one with two. The stretch was delicious; you thought you could handle three, but couldn’t find your voice- not with how he started fucking you in ernest, not with the way he focused his talented mouth solely on your clit suddenly. “Oh- oh, there, there, there!” You cried, tossing your head back against the bed.

Good, he thought to himself. If he played his cards right… Crooking his fingers, he pressed upwards, grinding his fingers in, deeper than you could ever manage by yourself. Tongue rolling against your clit in hard passes that had your thighs tensing each time, you felt that familiar ball of tension begin to form quickly. “Can feel you getting tighter,” he taunted, letting his tongue hang out as he lavished your clit in attention.

“Mi-Mihawk, oh fuck. Oh- oh my god, your fingers!” You whined, reaching up to palm at your chest, tugging on your nipples before raising it higher to settle around your own throat. “I’m close, so close, please-”

“That’s my good girl. Come for me,” he rasped, watching the way you rolled your hips as best you could, as your stomach tensed. It was like watching a living piece of art, the way your orgasm washed over you. How your jaw dropped open, how your cries spilled free as your release spilled over his fingers, onto the floor below. “That’s my good girl.” The praise fell upon deaf ears, your heartbeat racing within your ears. You shuddered as you began to come down, the feeling of his fingers still gently thrusting almost too much for you. Weakly, you reached down to push at his shoulder, the telltale sign. He sighed, leaning forward to press a kiss against your oversensitive clit as he withdrew his fingers.

“Gods, Mihawk,” you shook your head, chest rising and falling with deep breaths, trying to calm yourself as he rose to his feet. He used the shirt he’d ruined to clean his arm up before tossing it over the small mess made on the floor. At least it didn’t hit the pillow, he thought as he grabbed it to set at the head of the bed.

“Oh, I hope I didn’t tire you out,” he murmured as he rounded the side of the bed, leaning over to draw you into a slow kiss. You could taste yourself on his lips, on the brush of his tongue against your lips, against your own. His chin was drenched in you- in your essence. You rolled over, rising to your knees to reach him properly, dragging him closer, chest to chest. “Why’s that?” You breathed into the kiss, pulling back just enough to study your lover. His hands reached up, brushing your hair back from your face, his lips curving into a grin full of mischief. “Because, darling, I want seconds. I haven’t had my fill yet.”

[readerinsertsaremyguiltypleasure]

Heyyy I was wondering if u could write like a moon summoner x darkling smut . She could be disguised as the queens lady in waiting when in reality she’s the kings personal bodyguard . Alexander could find out who she is when she appears to help save Alina when she’s attacked on the way to the little palace .

thank uuuu

Hi. Thanks for the prompt. I took a couple of liberties with this one, so I hope that's okay.

First of all, I went with a sun summoner reader. Whenever I read "moon summoner", I just picture the reader conjuring a mini moon and hurling it at their enemies like a Poké Ball, which I'm pretty sure is not what you had in mind. So, seeing as moonlight is just reflected sunlight anyway, sun summoner seemed the best compromise.

Secondly, I couldn't quite make the lady in waiting thing work, so I made it that she is just part of the King's Guard, but that is where she is hiding.

Everything else fits with your prompt. I think.

Anyways, I hope you like it.

_____________________________________

You had known something was going to go wrong on this trip. You had felt it as soon as the King had told you that you were to accompany General Kirigan to oversee the latest skiff’s maiden voyage. You were Grisha, yes, but you were also part of the King’s personal guard; not officially part of the second army. Guarding the General was not your job.

It wasn’t like he needed the extra help, anyway. And as far as everybody else was concerned, you were merely an Inferni. The strongest Inferni in Ravka, but an Inferni nonetheless. As far as they knew, your power was inconsequential to that of the Darkling.

They were wrong.

But that was how you liked it. If they knew the truth about you, they’d give you a responsibility that you knew you couldn’t live up to.

But knowledge of your true power or no, the King had still wanted you on this trip - just in case - and now you were in the middle of an ambush.

A scream caught your attention, and you turned to see your newest charge, Alina Starkov, being dragged into the woods by a fierce look Fjerdan. You ducked behind a tree as more bullets came your way, and then ran off after them.

It didn’t take long to find them. They were in the middle of a clearing, not far from the treeline. The Fjerdan had Alina pinned to the ground, axe above his head and ready to strike.

There was no way you could get across the clearing in time to save her. And they were too far away to pass off your powers as that of normal fire.

But you couldn’t let her die. She was like you.

She was a Sun Summoner.

Willing up as much power as you could, you brought your hands together and then sent a bolt of light across the clearing. Your aim was true, and you burnt a whole straight through the Fjerdan’s chest.

You hadn’t realised you weren’t the only one who had come to Alina’s rescue until it was too late. If you had known the Darkling was right behind you, you would have let him deal with it. The cut worked just as well with shadow as it did with light, after all.

‘You’re no Inferni,’ said General Kirigan, staring at you like you were a jewel he had long searched for.

And despite the fact that your secret was out and your life was now changed forever, you couldn’t help but preen under his gaze.

Genya had always warned you to be wary of powerful men… but you’d always had trouble listening to her advice.

----

When you got back to the Little Palace, Kirigan had passed Alina off onto Genya and had then all but dragged you to his private quarters. The echoing of the door closing behind you both made you nervous.

You tried distracting yourself by surveying the large map of Ravka on the table, but Kirigan didn’t let you remain distracted for long. ‘An interesting day,’ he said as he slowly walked towards you. ‘I started out with no Sun Summoner. Now I have two.’

The way he moved was almost predatory, and it made something inside you stir. Something you didn’t want to analyse too much.

‘Why did you hide?’ he asked.

‘I can’t tear down the Fold.’

You figured it was best to get straight to the point. You may not have been under his command, but you knew he was not one to purposefully anger.

‘I’m not powerful enough, and if I failed, I would no doubt be punished.’

Kirigan regarded you, now close enough to touch you if he so chose. ‘So, to hide, you turned your sun powers into that of just normal fire. Clever.’

He took a step back, and a moment later, the room was filled with his shadows. You couldn’t even see him anymore, though you knew he was still right in front of you.

‘Show me,’ his voice came from the darkness. A command if ever you’d heard one.

You knew it was no use defying him, so you brought your hands together and conjured the biggest ball of sunlight you could, sending it up above your head. It was enough to light the area between you and Kirigan, but nothing more.

But then he stepped forward and grabbed your wrist.

The power you felt flowing through you was like nothing you’d ever felt before, and without you even realising it, your small sun blazed into an inferno, lighting the whole room as if it were the middle of a cloudless day.

The look Kirigan gave at your display could not have been described as anything less than hungry.

‘You’re perfect,’ was all he said before his mouth was suddenly on yours, devouring you with a possessive kiss.

High on the power of his amplification and the fact that this handsome man wanted you, you returned the kiss eagerly, and you soon found yourself being lifted onto the table behind you.

The moment Kirigan’s hand left your skin, your sunlight faded, but that was okay. So had his shadows, and you could still see him quite clearly as he deftly undid your kefta.

‘To think I had you under my nose the entire time,’ he said between smaller kisses to your neck and jaw. You were sure you were going to have marks in the morning.

You didn’t care.

Once he had your kefta off, your hands scrambled at his own clothes, but he grabbed your wrists, stopping you. He didn’t say anything, but you got the point.

He was in control.

Satisfied that you were going to comply, he released your wrists and got back to undressing you. It felt like mere seconds before he had you in nothing but your underwear.

He stroked his hands over the skin of your thighs, making the power inside you ripple. If this was what just his hands on you felt like, you couldn’t wait to feel the rest of him.

‘Do you want this?’ he asked, voice little more than a growl.

You unconsciously licked your lips as you watched him slowly undo the buttons of his trousers.

‘Saints, yes,’ you breathed. In that moment, you didn’t care that your life was never going to be the same again. In fact, you revelled in it. It felt good to no longer have to hide. It felt freeing.

It also felt good to be fully appreciated. To be wanted.

Kirigan groaned and pushed the material of his trousers out of the way so he could fist himself. You eyes remained fixed on him, mesmerised by the sight.

He gave himself a few pumps before stepping forward and pulling your underwear aside with one finger. He lined himself up and then used his free hand to grab your chin, forcing you to look in his eyes.

The lust you saw in them made you whimper, as did the feel of his skin on yours.

‘You and I are going to do so much together,’ he said, and he pushed himself inside you with one solid thrust. You gasped and resisted the temptation to close your eyes in pleasure.

Kirigan’s gaze never left yours, even as his hips set a brutal pace, and his lips curled into a smile that was full of victory.

‘Now you’re mine.’

[mariabtsos]

Unsinkable ||j.jk|| - Chapter 1

Index | Next ->

Description: The 1910s are the peak of passenger ships, it was also the peak of classism, Jungkook is a third class immigrant from Korea, and you are a first class “prisoner” not wanting to go back to a life of strict standards. Once you meet Jungkook, life seems worth living, but when tragedy strikes, will you guys make it out to live the life you planned?

Genre: Titanic AU, poor/artist!JK x rich!f reader, angst, fluff, very slight smut, forbidden love.

Warnings: S*ic*de attempt, mentions of knives and stabbing, smoking, near death experience.

Word Count: 1.8k+

You never pictured going back to America in your current circumstances. Engaged to a man you did not love, only to save your family's name after your father’s death.

You looked at the luxurious ship that was meant to take you “home,” White Star Lines biggest ship, the Titanic, your fiancé Namjoon — an heir to his father’s steel manufacturing empire — had been able to get the tickets for her maiden voyage.

“I don’t get the big fuss, it’s not bigger than the Mauritania,” you said, unimpressed whilst holding on to your navy blue, large, wide-brim hat. “Don’t worry honey, it is definitely more luxurious,” Namjoon said, “your daughter is very hard to impress, Irene.”

“She is, isn't she?” Your mother stood close to you, slightly pinching the back of your arm, making me straighten up.

As Namjoon assigned his valet — a young man not much older than both of you — you thought his name to be Yoongi, to guide one of the stewards to where your luggage had to go.

As he came back over your way he put his arm out for you, which you took, albeit reluctantly, as you walked up the platform, you looked down, seeing the water below you. Would your troubles be fixed if you jumped? Perhaps not. You didn’t understand why they called this the ship of dreams, it seemed like it was taking all your dreams away.

On the other side, a young man was counting on this ship to take him to his dream. Young artist Jungkook, was playing a heated game of poker with his best friend Christopher, against two German immigrants who had bet their third class tickets to the same ship you were boarding.

Jungkook had jumped around a lot, ever since his parents died when he was 12, he took the first ship out of Korea and hopped from country to country, from Australia where he had met Christopher, to France, to now England. They had been playing for about two hours now, both German natives had struck out. “Damn, talk about an unlucky streak, what do you have Chris?” Jungkook asked his friend, who looked disappointed and slammed his hand against the table, “I got nothing,” he answered bitterly. Jungkook hummed, looking at everyone and then back at his own hand.

“Well, Chris, I’m sorry,” the black haired man looked at Jungkook with despair. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN?! We bet everything we had and-.”

“I meant, I’m sorry because you won’t get to go back home in a long time,” Jungkook set his hand down and smiled victoriously at his opponents, he had a royal flush, he had won it all.

“AH YOU BASTARD!” Chris got up right away and hugged his friend tightly.

“Well, you young lads won’t be going anywhere,” the friends looked at the bar man who had a silly smile on his face, “the Titanic leaves in 5 minutes.”

They had never gathered their bags so quickly, running through the crowd, avoiding bumping into someone and them falling in the water. They made it to the third class gate just before they took away the ramp. They lied saying they did not have lice, when in reality they had no clue, but he was sure he didn’t have any, his head hadn’t itched in two weeks. And so they made it, making it to their cabin and settling in their bunks quickly.

They explored the ship after they started their journey, sitting down on a bench in the main deck, enjoying the ocean breeze. They met another third class Korean immigrant, Kim Taehyung; his grandfather had been part of the crew that built the ship, he died before it could be done, but he had made a promise that once the Titanic set sail they would move to America. Taehyung didn’t know what to do with the extra ticket so he offered it to one of his University friends, who was somewhere in the third class cabins sleeping.

They were all in the midst of conversation when he saw you, walking out on the first class deck, holding onto the railing and looking out to the horizon. Taehyung saw Jungkook staring off, so he followed his gaze and realized he was looking at you.

“You better get that thought outta your head, she’s way out of your league Jungkookie,” he stated, taking a long drag of his cigarette, “girls like that don’t look at guys like us.” But Jungkook couldn’t help it, you looked beautiful, the sun reflected off your skin wonderfully, and your hair looked gorgeous in that low bun. He wished he could be closer, he could only imagine your beauty up close.

You hated your life at the moment, having to be so prim and proper in front of all these rich, phony people. You even tried having a cigarette, but that was quickly shut down by your mother and your fiancé, who had ordered your food, your drink, and dessert earlier, and now he was putting out your cigarette.

Then they talked about your wedding, and what your life was going to look like, all like you weren’t there, everything was being planned and set for your life and no one seemed to want to ask for your input, so, you excused yourself and ran down to the third class deck that was on the stern, passing by young man who was sitting on a bench working on his drawings, and then hitting the railing. You got a sudden view below, the night was so dark, it almost looked like an empty void. If you jumped it would almost feel like you disappeared, and that would be perfect because that was all you wanted to do. So, you got your foot on the railing and slowly climbed over it, eventually holding on to it was the only thing keeping you from falling, it was the scariest thing you’d ever done, and as you were talking yourself into jumping, you heard him.

“You shouldn’t do it.” he said.

“What do you mean?” You replied in between sobs

“Jumping, you shouldn’t do it.”

“What do you know? You can’t tell me what I should or shouldn’t do.” You turned around and looked at the man who you were talking to. He was the most handsome man you’d seen, you felt your heart falter a bit; to avoid staring, you turned back around, seeing the void again, your eyes had adjusted to the dark and you realized just how long the fall would be.

You heard shuffling after a few seconds so you turned around and saw the young man had taken off his jacket, his socks, and his boots. “You give me no choice, miss,” he said.

“What?”

“You give me no choice, you jump, I jump.”

“Please, I could not ask you to do that…” you almost begged.

“I cannot have you do that,” you pleaded with him. “Hell, I don’t even know if you know how to swim!”

“Like I said, Miss, if you jump I jump,” he took a step, getting slightly closer to the railing where you were standing. “And, I’ll have you know I’m quite a good swimmer.”

You nodded and looked back down again, you gave yourself that same pep talk, telling yourself this was your only way to freedom. “I wouldn’t worry about swimming, the cold will be worse,” your jumping partner stated very matter of factly. “What do you mean?” You asked him. “Well, with how cold the water is at this time of year, it’d feel like five thousand knives stabbing each part of your body, it’d be painful,” You looked back at him, not shocked to find he was looking down. He met your gaze after a few seconds, “that’s another reason why I don’t want you to jump, I wasn’t planning on going through that kind of pain,” he chuckled bitterly

Hearing that made you think of the pain, the image of five thousand knives in every inch of your body, and it sent shivers down your spine, especially because he didn’t mention whether you’d die right away, you assumed it’d be a bit of a longer torturous process. So, you chose to get back on deck, extending your hand to the stranger after stating that you had changed your mind, he took it gladly, and you felt your heart falter one more time, it felt like a surge of energy went through your body.

“I’m Jeon Jungkook,” he smiled, shaking your hand, just like you he felt that same surge. Seeing you up close was like a sudden blessing, you had such expressive eyes, and he could see all the pain hidden behind them.

You reciprocated his pretty bunny smile, “Yn.” He pulled your hand a bit and asked, “are you ready to get back on deck?” You nodded enthusiastically, but things went wrong. You don’t know how but you slipped on your dress, barely able to catch yourself before meeting an untimely end, you started screaming whilst holding on to the rail. Jungkook jumped into action right away, trying to get a hold of your hand but you were too scared to grab it, he looked at you with pleading eyes, you could tell he wanted you to live, that he was worried. “Take my hand, please, I promise I’ll get you up here!” He screamed, and although you were terrified, you grabbed his hand just in time because your other hand had slipped, so he was now holding onto you by just one of your hands, you subconsciously reached to grab on to his wrist, and although it was a terrible scare, he pulled you up to the deck again, the way you fell he went on top of you, you were both looking at each other in shock, eventually taking a breath of relief.

Namjoon showed up with Yoongi and the Master-at-Arms shortly after. Needless to say things did not look good for your savior, as obviously he was on top of you, and parts of his clothes were on the floor, it looked like he had… But you shot that down quickly, with the excuse that you were trying to see the propellers and slipped, saying that Jungkook was, luckily, close enough to hear you scream. Everyone looked at the young third-class passenger to confirm this, he agreed with your story and was called a hero by the Master-at-Arms, which prompted Namjoon to only give him $50 and a cigarette.

“Isn’t him saving my life worth more than fifty dollars and a cigarette,” Namjoon looked down at you, and you made that one face you knew would get him to say yes to anything you wanted, and so he invited your hero to dinner, as you were leaving you mouthed a thank you to Jungkook, who held his hand up as way of saying goodbye.

“It’s interesting that Yn fell so suddenly but you had time to take off your jacket, socks and shoes.” Yoongi said, squinting at the younger man, Jungkook could tell he didn’t believe you.

AN: It's officially here! I'm trying to get on a schedule so I'll try upload this story every other Friday, let me know of any constructive criticism you may have and what you think of it so far!

[socialfakes]

the devils in the details- luke hughes

chapter 1; part 2: hard launching

nhl players x platonic!fem!reader

eventual luke hughes x fem!reader

nico hischier x fem!reader

the masterlist

Liked by bboeser, nicohischier, _quinnhughes and 4,209 others

yourinstagram | the sands of time will never wash away the love that i have for you ❤

view all comments

user06 this isn’t luke and now i am very sad 😔

elblue6 love seeing you happy, my dear ❤

user08 the dark hair kinda looks like quinn 🤔  | user13 no! not her being with the wrong brother 😭  | yourinstagram it’s not the wrong brother. in fact it’s not any of the hughes brothers 🤷🏻‍♀️

jackhughes you posted a snowy cabin landscape last week and now you’re posting about the beach? where the hell are you?  | yourinstagram right next to you, dumbass 😂 these pictures aren’t recent  | jackhughes right. i should’ve known 🤦🏻‍♂️

_quinnhughes why does everyone think it’s me when you post someone with dark hair? 😂  | user01 honestly thought it was actually vince or jamie

colecaufield was not expecting this pairing at all but glad you’re happy. it's all i could’ve hoped for 😃  | yourinstagram love you beyond words, my sweet sweet cole 🥰

trevorzegras happy 😊

user07 this is such a cute soft launch. can't wait for the hard launch ❤

nicohischier my favorite couple 😊

lhughes_06 this is the cutest thing i've ever seen 😊❤  | yourinstagram ❤❤

Liked by nicohischier, lhughes_06, _quinnhughes and 6,427 others

yourinstagram | over a year together and he still sends this stuff ❤ ladies, find yourself a man like this and you’ll live the rest of your life extremely happy 😃👍🏻

view all comments

user13 this is so quinn 😲

user04 I’m dying to know who this is 🤔

jackhughes ❤

trevorzegras ❤

jamie.drysdale ❤

_quinnhughes ❤❤

nicohischier ❤

lhughes_06 ❤

colecaufield ❤

edwards.73 ❤

user15 love how all the boys just commented a heart as if it would throw us off 😂

user03 anyone else thinking it’s quinn because of the double hearts? or is it just me?  | user07 guarantee it was to throw us off the trail even more

user06 I think I know who it is 😲  | user04 enlighten us 😃  | yourinstagram I love you guys and I promise you’ll know very soon 😊 if his team wins, we agreed to hard launch the relationship as a celebration 😊🥳

Liked by jamie.drysdale, trevorzegras, nicohischier and 1,715 others

yourinstagram | love you lovin’ me the right way ❤⛸ forever thankful to you for opening your heart up to me 😘    tagged: nicohischier

view all comments

lhughes_06 he better treat you how you deserve to be treated  | yourinstagram of course he is. wouldn’t be with him if he didn’t know how to treat a lady 🥰  | lhughes_06 well i'm glad you’re happy ❤

user05 but this isn’t luke 🥺

_quinnhughes happy that you’re happy, munchkin 😊

trevorzegras well this was unexpected 👀

nicohischier ❤

jamie.drysdale and my ship sailed away 😉  | yourinstagram to the middle of the ocean 😊

user06 was holding out hope for you and luke but if nico makes you happy, then congrats 😊

edwards.73 thought you and luke were together when we were all at school. guess i was wrong 🤷🏻‍♀️

rutgermcgroarty i freaking knew it! especially when you called me at 2 am and told me once that you were crushing hard on nico 😂  | yourinstagram what?!?! that never happened 🤫 | rutgermcgroarty you may have been drunk 🤔

colecaufield so this is why you wouldn’t date me? 😏😂  | yourinstagram no 😊

jackhughes my two best friends?!? i’m not sure how to feel about this 🤔  | lhughes_06 as long as she’s happy, we should be too ☺  | yourinstagram thank you lukey ❤

user07 was hoping hard for y/nhughes but that ship is gone  | yourinstagram sank before its maiden voyage 👍🏻

njdevils cap is happy!!!

taglist: @worldlxvlys @diorsluv

[thedivineerotic]

The 8th House Experience Pt.1:

(Don’t Bite the Hand That Feeds You)

Case Study: Rose DeWitt Bukater

“Don’t bite the hand that feeds you.” - Anonymous 

“He who feeds you controls you.” - Thomas Sankara

Two old sayings that have colored much of my experience as an 8th house dominant person for a good part of my life. Beyond the sex, occult and transformation themes, one of the most under-recognized signifiers of the 8th house is the connection to other people’s resources. It sounds mundane on the surface, and it is, but growing up and looking at my childhood and adolescence in retrospect I began to understand the depth of how it plays out. 

And one of my favorite movies and characters illustrated it before my very eyes. 

In Titanic, Rose is showered in gifts, presents and jewels bigger than she can handle. She is gifted things from other people, from a lavish wedding on behalf of her mother to the Heart of the Ocean from her fiancé down to the first-class tickets onto the Titanic on its maiden voyage. While she can play it all up and she does appreciate it, one thing is clear; She never asked for any of it. The 8th House is the house of other people resources, opposite the 2nd house of our own resources.

Rose is never consulted for her opinion, takes or even how she feels about any of the things people shower her with. Her mother disregards the lavender color theme she wants with her wedding, talking about her when discussing it but never actually involving her in the conversation. 

The 8th House is opposite the 2nd House, the house of voice and speech.

She’s treated like a child, “meant to be seen and not heard.”

Her fiancé Cal orders her food for her like a child, down to the temperature of the meat. 

Her family and friends have celebrated her engagement and impending wedding. Her mother dotes on her fiancé. Her fiancé has their plans set for when they land. She seemingly has it made with the perfect man, wedding and life. But until Jack, no one ever asks her how she feels about the wedding or if she even loves her fiancé to begin with. She says “it feels like i’m standing in the middle of a crowded room, screaming to the top of my lungs and no one even looks up.” And that colors a lot of experiences with the 8th house, being on the receiving end of other people’s resources without being asked if you even want them or having any input in them at all.

And running the risk of being called ungrateful if you don’t want them.

Rose feels trapped. She describes the opulent heart of the ocean diamond necklace that many would have died for as a dog collar. But she still hesitates to leave. When Jack comes into the picture and her mother realizes she may be tempted to throw her plan out of wack, she accuses Rose of being selfish and threatens the idea of a poor, dishonorable, shameful existence with them losing everything they have and working as seamstresses. The 8th House is an extreme house, it doesn’t know nuance, it doesn’t know the middle ground.

The 8th House: you accept all the resources other’s have to give you or they threaten to rip the rug out from under you completely. 

In the 8th House, you run the risk of people gifting you things with the intention of controlling you. 

Dangling their resources in your face like a cat toy.

In the end however, it leads 8th Housers out of the dark into the 9th House, a house defined by independence, adventure and risk. A life very similar to Jack and the path he was able to give her a glimpse of.

The path that she ultimately took for herself.

In the most extreme examples, such as mine, it may even make one hyper-independent but for the better. At the conclusion, Rose was able to give it all up and go live the life she built for herself, based on choices she made for herself and define herself outside of the things given to her, but with things she gave and made for herself. 

As an 8th houser, like Rose, you realize people would gift you with things not for you, but for them. 

Also, eventually like Rose, you stopped being scared of refusing things people gave you if you didn’t really want it. You, cautiously, learn to trust others but most of all you learn to trust yourself and your own resources to get you ahead, your own resources physically and mentally. 

And they worked.

It worked for me

Give it a chance and it will for you too!

Signed, The Divine Erotic (8th House Sun, Mercury, Ketu (South Node), Uranus and Neptune)

[trillscienceofficer]

from Star Trek Monthly, March 1997

From Make-Up to Director's chair: lan Spelling meets the woman behind the Klingon forehead and finds out what's in store for the feisty B'Elanna Torres aboard the U.S.S. Voyager

“I'm sort of calculating the number of hours of my life that I've spent sitting right here, in this chair,” says Roxann Dawson with a laugh that rings simultaneously of amusement and resignation. Here, this chair, is in a make-up trailer on the Paramount Pictures studio lot, just a stone's throw from the sound stages and sets of Star Trek: Voyager. It is here that Dawson's daily transformation from pretty and petite actress into formidable half-Klingon/half-Human begins and ends. Truth be told, Dawson would probably need a calculator to figure out just how many hours she has actually spent in the chair.

As a make-up man alternately dabs at her face with a cotton swab and uses a blow dryer to set the make-up in place, Dawson chats away amiably about things past and to come on ST:VOY. “Several years have gone by already, haven't they?” she asks. “You know, it doesn't feel that way at all, to me, at least. Our first season was very short. We didn't do a full year of shows. The second season flew by. And right now, we're only part of the way through the third season. So, to me, it's still sort of new. Although I feel I know B'Elanna much better than I did at the very beginning, the whole idea of the show is still fresh for me. It's all still new. I like feeling that way. It means that I'm still challenged and interested in what we're doing on the show, in what I'm getting to do as this character.

“I love B'Elanna as a character. She's different from any Klingon we've ever really seen on a Star Trek series before. Being half-Human and half-Klingon gives her a lot of dimension. I think she's developing quite nicely, that the writers are constantly finding different layers of her to explore. I sometimes feel they're reading my mind, that they're doing the kinds of things that I'd imagined for her. They're exploring not just her tough and strong sides, but her feminine side, her vulnerable side. We've seen a bit of humour here and there, too, and I think we're going to see her romantic side. They are allowing me to stretch in a lot of ways, which is a real pleasure for me as an actor to be able to try.”

B'Elanna, of course, has figured prominently in a number of major episodes over the last two seasons, perhaps most notably Persistence of Vision, Prototype, Dreadnought, The Thaw, The Swarm, Remember and Blood Fever. Throughout these shows, viewers have seen B'Elanna seduced by Chakotay (Robert Beltran), witnessed her battle robots, deal with a computer that spoke with her voice, come face-to-face with an evil clown, develop a new respect for the Doctor (Robert Picardo) while trying to help him recover his damaged programming, and handle the implications of terrifying dreams. Blood Fever, perhaps the best of all the so-called B'Elanna episodes, finds the chief engineer not only experiencing the Klingon version of heat, but delving deeper into a relationship with shipmate Tom Paris (Robert Duncan McNeill).

Dawson reports that she is pleased with the development thus far of B'Elanna's relationships with the other characters aboard the U.S.S. Voyager. She considers B'Elanna's bonds with Captain Janeway (Kate Mulgrew) and Chakotay quite close. She thinks there have been a handful of nice moments for B'Elanna with Kim (Garrett Wang), Tuvok (Tim Russ), the Doctor and Neelix (Ethan Phillips). She's hopeful that the writers will eventually get around to giving B'Elanna more interaction with Kes (Jennifer Lien). But it's the relationship with Paris that has Dawson—who dropped her maiden name [sic, it wasn't actually her maiden name], the Biggs part of Biggs-Dawson, from her professional name just before the third season of ST:VOY commenced—most intrigued at the moment. “I really like the way that they're developing it. I'm actually here at the studio today because we're tacking an extra scene onto Alter Ego,” she explains of the episode in which Tuvok and Kim both find themselves attracted to a holodeck-generated woman (Sandra Nelson), who turns out to be a lonely alien that infiltrated the ship's computer system. “When they put the show together (in the editing room), they realised it came in about a minute short. So Robbie and I and Bob (Picardo, who is directing the episode) are back here shooting a short scene in which Paris sort of compliments B'Elanna as they're walking down a corridor. It will help set the stage for what happens in Blood Fever, which was definitely one of my most interesting episodes.

“B'Elanna goes through a lot in that show, and you get to see a few sides of her that we either hadn't seen at all before or that wed only hinted at in earlier shows. As far as Paris goes, what the writers are doing, which I really like, is they're exploring the process of the relationship rather than trying to define it right away. Is it going to be a love interest situation? Will B'Elanna and Paris wind up just being friends? The answer is I really don't know. There are so many ways we can go with it and I love that I don't know for sure where it's going to go. Hopefully, that will continue. I'll get a script and say, ‘Oh, we're going to do THAT!?’ As an actress, I like that element of surprise, and I think our fans will too. At least, I hope they will.”

Throughout her days on ST:VOY, Dawson has been put through her paces by a number of actors-turned-directors. Star Trek: The Next Generation veterans Jonathan Frakes and LeVar Burton have helmed episodes, as have co-stars McNeill and Picardo, Tim Russ is gearing up to direct an episode next season and, guess what? So is Dawson. Smiling broadly, the actress explains that she has “always” wanted to direct and that she had previously called the shots on a few stage shows. She's smiling so much, in fact, that her make-up man grimaces. “I'm sorry,” she says to him softly and apologetically. “I know. No smiling or laughing.” She glances at her interviewer and explains. “If I smile or laugh it makes the make-up crinkle if it's not dry yet.”

To prepare for her stint behind the Star Trek: Voyager camera, Dawson is in the show's training programme, watching other directors at work and picking their brains for advice and suggestions whenever she can. If she's really going to do it, she wants to do it well. “I'm so excited and so frightened, and I want to be perfect, I think,” she says. “I respect people that do it well so much. I respect the art of directing, and it really is an art. I want to make sure that I feel I'm ready to handle it. Hopefully, the producers will feel at some point soon that I am ready and perhaps it will happen. I'm looking forward to that day. I really am. It'll probably happen next year. I guess my ultimate goal as a director will really be to bring to life whatever script they hand me.”

Clearly, Dawson seems content with her life in the Star Trek Universe, although she's looking forward to outside projects—the actress recently starred in a short film called Seeing Through Walls, playing a scientist who implants a knowledge chip into a prisoner's brain. The film will air on the US public broadcasting system sometime in 1997.

Dawson sounds ready for another couple of years spent aboard the U.S.S. Voyager. “Oh yeah, definitely,” she says, fighting a smile. “If they keep me on my toes as much as they have been, why would I want to leave? It's always been a pleasure to have a character to hold onto, to create over a period of time, to keep exploring the different facets of.

“I'm having so much fun with this character. Also, I love the people around here, the other actors, the producers, our crew. It's a great group. So, I'm just having a ball.”

[victorian-wizard]

Yesterday I was in Whitby, the place in which Bram Stoker set the novel Dracula. It's a regular-sized seaside town with lots of interesting naval history as well as folktales of ghosts, ghouls and pirates!

To the interesting part! I went on a replica of the HMS Endeavour, which had its maiden voyage in 1768, commanded by Captain James Cook. Of course I took my camera with me and I took many pretty pictures (See below)

Now for the next bit. I could not stop thinking about @ganymedian the whole time I was there. One might say I got Ganymedian brainrot. i understand why they enjoy ships and naval history so much now. I may have unlocked a new hyper fixation.

Anyways I wanted to commemorate my day with a piece of art inspired by Ganymedian's art-style mixed with some touches of my own style. I painted this almost completely while in a pub so it's missing a few things I would've added if I was at home but, without further ado, here it is. A watercolour portait of Captain James Cook!

[your-resident-boat-person]

A BOAT PERSON YEEEEEES BOATS BOATS BOATS BOATS BOATS DO YOU HAVE A REASON FOR LOVING THEM? YOU HAVE A LIST OF FAVS AND THEY ARE GREAT ARE THERE ANY YOUD RECOMMEND PEOPLE LEARN ABOUT OR THAT YOU WANT TO INFODUMP ON SPECIFICALLY SORRY FOR THE CAPS I AM VERY VERY EXCITED

Okay, so, if I had to give a reason for liking ocean liners, the answer is probably that I'm a mega-autist. However, it started in the 5th grade. Like everyone else, Titanic was my gateway drug. That eventually expanded into other ocean liners.

If I had to recommend one to learn more about, it would easily be the SS America.

She had a long and storied 55-year-long career. I highly recommend the documentary by Oceanliner Designs on YouTube. However, I will give an abridged version of her story beneath the cut. It's a thrilling story, so if you're interested, don't read this; go watch his video. Its better:

Designed by the famous naval architect William Francis Gibbs, she was launched on August 31st, 1939. The day before World War II began. She was actually part of FDRs new deal program, meant to help the United States recover from the great depression. Her construction employed thousands of people, and nearly every state contributed to her in some way. She was built to a 3 compartment standard, meaning with 3 of her 14 watertight compartments flooded, shed stay afloat. This is actually better than most modern cruise ships, I might add. She was completed on April 16th, 1940, but given all the U-Boats everywhere, she couldn't exactly serve as a transatlantic liner. So the maiden voyage of this ocean liner was actually a Mediterranean cruise. United States Lines actually painted two giant American flags on each side of her hull, with the text “AMERICA UNITED STATES LINES” in big, bold letters, just in case they somehow did encounter a U-Boat.

America was a neutral country at the time, so that kind of thing was important to advertise. Eventually, the US got pulled into the war, and the SS America was requisitioned as a troopship and renamed the USS West Point. I don't know if this is confirmed, but I suspect that it's because if she were lost in the war, announcing that a ship bearing the name of our country had been lost to enemy action would be a huge blow to morale. When her running mate, the SS United States, was constructed, the US government tried to pressure William Francis Gibbs into giving her a different name for this exact reason. It didn't work. I love him. Anyway, here's a picture of her during her service.

The SS America carries the honor of being one of the few ships to never have a single death occur on board during the war. She might have actually been the only one. Anyway, in 1946, she was returned to United States Lines and renamed back to SS America. This time, when they repainted her back to her civilian colors, they ditched the name and flags on the sides of her hull. (Thank god.) Her career with USL was successful, if uneventful. In 1952, the SS United States was introduced. The Big U was about 267 feet longer, twice the size, and twice the speed. Given that the SS United States is still, to this day, the fastest passenger ship of all time, America had a little bit of trouble keeping up. America's passenger numbers fell after this, but she still had many loyal passengers who preferred her. The SS United States’ interior design was a tad lackluster compared to the SS America.

With rising operating costs and competition from air travel, she was deemed an unnecessary part of the USL fleet. In 1964, they put America up for sale. She was bought by Chandrice Line, which serviced the postwar emigrant run from Europe to Australia and New Zealand.

America was renamed Australis and served them until 1977, when, faced with ever-increasing fuel costs, could no longer compete with air travel. She is remembered to this day by many of the emigrants as being a very happy ship, but Chandrice didn't exactly maintain her very well. On one voyage, part of her hull opened up, and a compartment partially flooded. The crew was unable to fix it, and for the rest of the 3 week voyage, she had an awful list over to one side.

Now comes the most shameful part of her career. In 1978, she was bought by Venture Cruise Lines for 5 million dollars. Seeking to capitalize on nostalgia, they offered 5 day cruises to nowhere. To prepare her for this new role, they repainted her in what was definitely her second-ugliest configuration, and they gave her her old name back.

And then they kinda… stopped. They made no effort to modernize her (a ship constructed in the 1930s), and her interiors were, for lack of a better word, a dump. The swimming pool was full of garbage bags, toilets were overflowing, and there were rats and bugs everywhere. It was a nightmare. Truly, a predecessor to the poop cruise from hell. The passengers on her first cruise actually mutinied, and the ship barely made it past the Statue of Liberty before the captain turned her around. The health inspection board was called in, and they examined the ship. They gave her a score of 6.

Out of a possible 100.

Venture went bust, and America was put up for sale again.

Shockingly, the ones who bought her were Chandrice Line again, for 1 million dollars. Meaning they profited 4 million dollars while also getting their ship back in the process. She was renamed AGAIN to Italis, and her forward funnel was so corroded that it had to be cut off, giving her an extremely ugly and unbalanced profile. Even to the lay person, most can tell at this point that she looked very sad.

Her final years with Chandrice were short and uneventful, only lasting 2 years. Chandrice wanted to completely modernize her and have her serve as a modern cruise ship, but this never happened. She then bounced around from owner to owner. First, she was the Noga, intended to become a prison ship. Then she was the Alferdoss, but only the port bow was the Alferdoss, because they only put the name on one side of the hull. So the starboard bow and the stern were still the Noga. She was nearly sold for scrap, but after they scrapped the lifeboats, they defaulted on their payment and pulled out. Then, she was bought by a Thai investment firm, which intended to completely restore her and convert her into a 5-star hotel, much like the Queen Mary had in the 1970s. After a short period of drydocking, it was found that, despite the neglect, her hull was in remarkably good condition. The trip from New Zealand to Phuket, Thailand, was a long and dangerous one. Approximately 100 days. A Ukrainian tug won the contract, and in 1994, they set off…

only to immediately turn around due to the weather. They tried again, and again the weather turned against them. The tow line snapped, and they sent crew aboard to try to reattach it, but it was no use. They were airlifted off by helicopter, and the SS America, now named SS American Star, was set adrift. There was no one aboard, and the ship had no power. Seemingly tired of the years of neglect and mistreatment, the SS America decided to go out on her own terms. She went aground at Playa de Garcey, off the west coast of Fuerteventura in the Canary Islands. Within 48 hours, the pounding waves broke her in two.

She was declared a total loss and promptly abandoned. The waves quickly ate through the stern, causing it to deteriorate very quickly. The bow, however, remained standing, up until about 2008, when it began collapsing into the sea.

It's difficult to imagine that at one point, this was the grand old lady of the seas.

By 2013, nothing of her was left standing above the surface.

Along with her eye-achingly beautiful appearance, she had an extremely long and storied career. So that's why she's my favorite liner of all time. Most liners only last 25 to 35 years. Hell, the SS United States was only in service for 17 years. The SS America had a 55-year-long career. 74 if you count the time she spent wrecked, as she frequently got visitors. She was a truly outstanding ship, and I'm devastated that she couldn't be preserved. If it's any consolation, Phuket was struck by a major typhoon in 2004, so America was probably doomed regardless. If I could pick one liner from history to undo the fate of and magically preserve, it would EASILY be her.

[clove-pinks]

A few more pictures from my visit to the Col. James M. Schoonmaker, a freighter museum ship that began her life at Great Lakes Engineering Works of Ecorse, Michigan, in 1911. She carried coal on her maiden voyage from Toledo, Ohio to Sheboygan, Wisconsin.

She was actively sailing the Great Lakes until 1980, and of course she was updated and refitted to work for so many decades. But a lot of furniture on board is original: they never bothered to replace her apparently indestructible, very heavy wood furniture from before the Great War. You wouldn't know it was so old. The table and chairs are 1911 orginals, the captain's cabin and few guest rooms are still nicely appointed.

[demifiendrsa]

NOSFERATU (2024) - Official Teaser Trailer

Synopsis

Robert Eggers’ NOSFERATU is a gothic tale of obsession between a haunted young woman and the terrifying vampire infatuated with her, causing untold horror in its wake.

[nightghoul381]

Jude Jazza~ Luxury Liner Event ~Part 1

This a fan translation so it is definitely not 100% accurate. I do not own anything related to Ikemen Villains. Support Cybird by buying their amazing stories!

The port, bathed in pleasant sunshine, is bustling with large numbers of passengers.

Today, the weather is perfect for travel.

Jude: “What’re you doing?”

(No way, I didn’t think my companion would be Jude…!)

—Flashback—

It was yesterday morning.

Kate: “The maiden voyage of the luxury liner ‘Orellus’… I love it. It’s a dream come true.”

I looked at the newspaper with pictures of the luxury cruise ship that would finally set sail tomorrow and muttered to myself.

William, who was elegantly drinking tea, gave me a meaningful smile.

William: “Do you want to ride?”

Kate: “Fufu, yes. I guess I’ll be lucky if I get to ride it even once in my life.”

William: “Then you should go. I happen to have one ticket left.”

Kate: “Eh?”

—End Flashback—

(“Other members of Crown are also planning to board, so you’ll be together.” William said.)

Kate: “…By any chance, Jude, will you be on this ship too?”

Jude: “Why else would I come here? Ta wave goodbye and say have a nice trip?”

(I would like to see that.)

I tried imagining it, but immediately after Jude waved his hand, the image of the ship being wrecked came to my mind and I gave up.

 Jude is looking down at me with a look of genuine astonishment.

Kate: “…What is it?”

Jude: “Why’d ya come here knowin’ nothing?”

Kate: “Nothing, what…?”

Ellis: “I think it’s a mission.”

Kate:: “Ellis…!”

In contrast to Jude, Ellis appeared with a gentle smile on his face.

Ellis: “I heard from Will that you’re going to board with us… Is that okay? It’s a pretty dangerous mission.”

William’s meaningful smile and condition of boarding “with the Crown” finally made sense.

Kate: “What is your mission?”

Ellis: “Actually—”

On the maiden voyage of the luxury liner Orellus, the boss of a gang that has been rocking Britain lately will be on board.

I got that information a few days ago.

The police were supposed to move in with a chance to take him into custody, but,

The police were denied access to the ship due to pressure from the aristocratic member of the House of Lords who would be boarding.

Ellis: “This Congressman, Blackwood, was taking donations from gang bosses…”

Ellis: “He’s covering it up, facilitating, and helping to do all kinds of bad things behind the scenes.”

Kate: “That sucks…”

When I heard Ellis’s explanation, those words came out of my mouth without thinking.

Gang activities range from extortion and robbery to illegal gambling.

People involved with crimes ranging from unreasonable violence to murder make daily headlines in the newspaper.

(You let it go unchecked just to line your own pockets…)

Ellis: “Victor said ‘If you’re dealing with money and power, and you’re on a boat trip, Jude is the man for the job.’”

Kate: “So, Jude easily accepted the offer…?”

Ellis: “’It’s like a hobby to torture people like that arsehole, so sure.’ He said.”

Kate: “I see… so your bad taste matches the mission…”

Jude: “Oi, you say that.”

(In other words, this ship has a gang boss and a congressman on board who backs him…)

For a long period of time, I’ll be with them on board the ship, where there’s no escape.

(Without a doubt, this won’t end as a peaceful voyage.)

--For a moment, I almost feel frightened, but—

Jude: “Don’t do it, princess.”

Jude: “People like you, if ya throw ‘em into the den of these bastards, they’ll eat ya straight away.”

As soon as I saw the arrogant sneer of contempt, I felt more frustrated than afraid.

Kate: “…I’m in… if it’s a mission, I also need to record it as a ‘fairy tale’”.

Kate: “I myself would like to like to help with the mission for the sake of peace in Britain.”

Jude: “That’s a great cause.”

Jude: “The ya can’t complain even if ya lose yer life for that, right?”

(As  Jude always says, I may be too ignorant of the dirty world.)

Kate: “Since I was given a ticket,”

Kate: “Doesn’t that mean William thought I should accompany you on this mission?”

Kate: “If that’s so, then I want to try as hard as I can. Also…”

Kate: “It’s frustrating that you’re looking down on me all the time.”

(That… I)

It wasn’t until I said it out loud that I realized that the reason I added at the end was the primary motivation.

(Why…How does  Jude see me?)

(I wonder why I care so much.)

Jude: “…”

Jude remained silent and put his hand on my chin.

His cold amethyst eyes narrowed fiercely as he leaned closer.

Jude: “…Look at that cheeky face of yours, yer a mess.”

(…)

My heart fluttered at his teasing gaze.

Deep within the knife-like coldness I feel it’s filled with heat—an unidentifiable shiver ran through me.

Jude: “Well, why not? It’s a lousy boat trip where yer stuck breathin’ the same air as a bunch of shitty people for days on end.”

Jude: “At best, I’ll enjoy torturing you.”

Kate: “Wha…”

With a provocative whisper, Jude let me go.

(Torture me… What are you going to do?)

Riding the sea breeze, the scent of Jude filled my nose.

When I’m with Jude, I somehow forget myself.

My heart was beating a strangely fast rhythm.

(This is…I’m going on a dangerous mission, so maybe that’s why I’m nervous.)

(There’s no other reason why my heart is pounding…)

The luxury liner I boarded was beyond my imagination.

Like a first-class hotel, it’s glittery and eye-catching.

Man with a scar on his face: “Hey look… It’s Jude Jazza.”

Good-looking aristocrat: “Heh… hmm, hide it, please.”

When Mr. Jude passes by, rough-looking people stare at him and the nobles turn pale and dodge to the side of the room.

With a cool look on his face, Jude rushed through without hesitation.

Kate: “Umm… Where are you going?”

Jude: “It’s a given, isn’t it?”

Jude: “Where princesses scream.”

(Uh, scream…?)

I almost stop walking for a moment, but Ellis quicky answered my question.

Ellis: “It’s okay, it’s just a casino.”

Kate: “…Thank you, Ellis.”

(You’re trying to threaten me into going home again… I won’t take it anymore.)

Kate: “Come to think of it, you didn’t get lost, but it’s the first time you’ve been on the ship.”

Ellis: “Jude told me to memorize the floor plan of every place we go for a mission.”

Kate: “You’re surprisingly thorough, aren’t you?”

Jude: “Luxury cruise ships’re full of blind spots and closed rooms. I dunno what kind of person would go on a luxury liner without knowing the layout.”

Kate: “As long as I’m not as hated as you, Jude, I should be fine.”

Jude: “You don’t understand.”

Jude: “Like I said before, someone like you’ll be devoured immediately.”

Jude: “If ya let yer guard down ‘cause yer resentful, you’ll be dragged in.”

Laughing through his nose, Jude bent down slightly and put his lips to my ear as we walked next to each other.

Jude: “I guess yer dressed up all ‘cute’ for the luxury liner ride,”

Jude: “but it’s like yer askin’ ta be served up.”

Kate: “…Huh?”

(Wha…)

The word ‘cute’ suddenly thrown into the conversation caused my body temperature to soar.

Kate: “That is NOT true!”

Jude: “Why don’t you try that on someone who flinches when ya say somethin’ like an accusation?”

Jude: “During the voyage, everyone gets as jumpy as a monkey, try not to get caught in the middle.”

Ellis: “You never know what kind of people are out there, so be careful.”

Kate: “Uh… yes, thank you.”

(It would be nice if Jude would give me kind advice like Ellis…)

Holding back my pounding heart, I quickened my pace so I wouldn’t be left behind.

(Wow…so hot…)

The casino was crowded not only with aristocrats, but also with rough people.

A fistfight broke out at the table next to us, and the people around us were stunned when they started cheering happily without stopping.

Kate: “Is this what you mean by shitty people…?”

Jude: “Huh? O’course not. If they’re shitty people then eighty percent of the world is shitty people.”

(…In Jude’s world, really rough things happen on a daily basis.)

Jude quicky exchanged a large amount of chips, walked over to the baccarat table, and bet everything on a draw.

The crowd surrounding the table suddenly roared.

Kate: “What kind of game is that?”

Ellis: “You bet on whether the player will win or the dealer.” 5124

Ellis: “Add up all the cards dealt to you, and the one who’s last number is closest to nine wins.”

Ellis: “If you bet on a draw and you win, the payout is multiplied by nine, which means your chips are multiplied by nine.”

Kate: “N-nine times…?”

(Even now it’s a lot of chips, but nine times that amount…)

Ellis: “But the chances of a draw are very slim, and if we lose, we lose it all…”

(Wha, everything…!?)

Just imagining how much money is being bet with what the probability is makes me dizzy.

Kate: “Maybe you should think about it more…”

Instinctively, I walk up to Jude and whisper in his ear, but—

Jude: “Ye can’t be stingy when yer tryin’ to ear a bunch’a money ya know.”

Kate: “But…”

Jude: “Besides, if I wanted to make money, I wouldn’t be gambling.”

(Huh…?)

(So there’s… some other purpose?)

Despite my worries, the game was soon over and the result was…

Kate: “It’s really a draw…”

Ellis: “Jude’s used to winning, you see.”

(Why is that…?)

I couldn’t help but stare at Jude, his expression cool.

(Jude… he really lives in a completely different world.)

His standard of right and wrong, his sense of money, everything. Everything is so different from my common sense.

That, for some reason, pricked my chest.

Jude used his nine-fold increase in chips to gamble wildly here and there.

Jude: “What’s the matter with ya? Is there anyone who can make a worse bet?”

(Saying things like that is like picking fights indiscriminately.)

(What is your plan, Jude?)

At that time, a man sat down on the chair next to Jude.

The middle-aged man with a cigar in his mouth was dressed like an aristocrat, but his eyes were fixed and there was an air of unease about him.

Noble with the cigar: “Cigar?”

Jude: “…I’ll take one.”

Jude took a cigar and lit it.

(You smoke cigars too… I didn’t know that.)

(Even so, this person is… who?)

Jude: “Yer a member of the House of Lords. Blackwood, right?”

(…! This man is the lawmaker who receives money from a gang!?)

Tension ran through my body at once.

Blackwood: “…I like gambling too, you could say I’ve devoted my life to it.”

(…I see.)

(Jude, you knew this guy liked to gamble, so you were gambling to lure him out.)

(I can’t believe you lured him out so brazenly…amazing dexterity and courage.)

I am secretly impressed—

Blackwood: “But, it’s boring to just bet money.”

Blackwood: “You have to bet something more important to make it… exciting.”

Jude: “Heh, yeah.”

Jude: “If ye do, I’ll bet all of my fortune and… this woman.”

Kate: “What!?”

Part 1 | Part 2 | Premium End | Epilogue

[flatoutin-eaurouge]

Those are my portrait rights

Pairing: Mika Häkkinen x Michael Schumacher

This fic is dedicated to the lovely @schumi-honey who provided the plot and the lovely @kimizilla who provided the picture 💕💕 I had such a blast writing this! Thanks! 😭

As rumours would have it, Mika Häkkinen was a bit of a chaotic guy. Over the time span of two weeks he had forgotten to bring his wallet to a lunch with his manager, he had locked his unicycle to someone else's bike and he had panicked about losing his tortoise while the animal was still in the wooden box he had put it in minutes before. If his head wasn't connected to his body he would probably lose it too.

It wasn't the case that Mika was afflicted with a youthful kind of Alzheimer... the boy just didn't busy his mind with anything beyond racing. It was both a weakness and a strength. A weakness because he actually forgot the most basic things in life. A strength because he could fully focus on his racing career. It resulted in Ron Dennis and Keke Rosberg constantly meandering around him to help him be a functioning adult. Booking hotel rooms, planning taxi rides. Everything to help the talented boy develop into a merciless racing machine.

This afternoon, in his haste to double check if his beloved "turtus" was still in its box, Mika had forgotten to lock the door of his motorhome. It left an oppertunity for burglars looking for money, crazed fan girls wanting to look through his undies or... mysterious pranksters trying to set him up.

The silhouet standing in front of Mika's opened closet was one of the latter. The person wasn't looking for money or expensive watches. No... the mysterious burglar needed one, just one, particular piece of clothing. A piece of clothing Mika was seen wearing on a certain picture... a picture that made a certain person's heart skip a beat or two everytime he looked at it.

Johnny Herbert grabbed the tight black shorts with the blue, white and red accents from Mika's closet and grinned smugly. It were the shorts Mika was wearing in the picture that Michael Schumacher had "accidently" stumbled upon. Johnny knew Michael had kept the picture. He had seen it inside one of the drawers of his night stand when he was searching Michael's motorhome while the latter had gone to the bathroom.

It hadn't been a surprise to see the picture there, lying between Michael's socks, slightly frayed at the sides as if it was touched, held and admired a lot.

Johnny grinned mischievously as he replaced Mika's garment with a Benneton issued t-shirt that read Michael Schumacher's name on it. Not subtle at all, but then again, Michael's crush on Mika wasn't subtle either.

Johnny sneaked out off Mika's motorhome and beelined to the motorhome of the Finn's rival a few hunderd meters further down the paddock. Johnny knew Michael always left a window ajar for fresh air... and wouldn't that be a great way to get those shorts inside his motorhome!

Johnny was baffled by his own ingenuity. The set up was perfect. Now he only needed his former team mate to take the bait.

While Johnny was stuffing Mika's shorts through the window - giving the garment a little flick in order to make it land on a very prominent spot on the floor - Michael was gently holding the picture again surrounded by the - what he thought - privacy of his own motorhome.

"Oh you handsome son of a bitch," he mumbled at the pictured blond, as his hands caressed the shiny surface of the image adoringly. "How did you end up in my mail box?"

Michael wondered if Mika had put it there himself. But if he did... why would he use this picture? If Michael were to shove a picture underneath the doorframe of Mika's motorhome, he would use a picture of himself with a pretty smile and a glimmer in his signature emerald eyes. Not a picture of himself in ridiculously small shorts, sticking his tongue out in concentration while his hair was flopping around like an airborne bird chick on its maiden voyage.

Michael grinned. Peculiar choice or not... it was the most wonderful picture he had ever seen! He could picture the blonde hair bouncing on Mika's head and covering his eyes like a golden curtain before it was swiped sideways in the - according to Mika - position it belonged. Michael wanted to play with that hair. He wanted to curl it around his fingers and give it a gentle tug.

How dare Mika let his hair bounce so freely! Why wasn't he containing that luscious golden mop with a head band like normal tennis players. Like Roger Federer or Rafael Nadal!

Michael let his eyes roam over the picture and stared at those tight tiny shorts. The garment was stretched taut over Mika's smooth, hairless legs and accentuated certain parts of his atonomy in all the right places.

Fuck. Did Mika really put that in his mail box?

He stared at the picture again, and again, and again... savouring ever square inch of it and bit down on his fist to distract himself from the tooth rottingly sweet soft spot he had developed for the Finn.

The thought to put the picture in a heart shaped frame nagged at the back of his mind, because he should protect his little treasure from fraying. What was stopping him? Maybe the fact that his crush was supposed to be a secret!

Oh how he hoped it was Mika who had put the picture in his mail box, because the thought of someone knowing about his little crush on his rival, frightened him beyond measure.

What if the paparazzo who took the picture wanted to distract him from racing? What if that paparazzo wanted to write a juicy story about secret paddock crushes? Should he put the picture in the trash can?

No! He cuddled the picture to his chest. "You don't belong in the trash can, mein Hübscher."

Then his thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door of his trailer. Michael quickly but very carefully hid the picture underneath his pillow and hurried to open the door for the unannounced visitor.

Michael expected someone irrelevant at his door, like Johnny Herbert or Ross Brawn... but when his handsome blonde rival suddenly showed up on his doorstep, he was bereft of oxygen. It was as if someone had set him on fire and the sparks from the glowing source traveled down his spine and reached his legs with unforgiving fury, causing his limbs to tremble. Why Mika? Why now? Why now, when I am hot and bothered?

Mika was staring at him with an adorable pink blush adorning his cheeks. His eyebrows were knit together in a puzzled look, as he shook a very recognisable Benneton-blue garment in front of Michael's face.

Before Michael could open his mouth to ask Mika how on earth he had ended up in possession of his garment, Mika interrupted him, more or less asking him the same thing.

"Michael, where are my black shorts and why is your clothing in my closet?"

The Finn didn't sound angry or offended, but he definitely sounded perplexed. If anything, his little blush betrayed as much.

Michael would have enjoyed that adorable look on him even more, if he wasn't so flustered and at loss for words himself.

"Wh...wh..what? I didn't... I don't have your shorts. What are you talking about?"

"Well, your t-shirt was in my closet in exactly the same spot as my stolen shorts!"

Michael swallowed audibly. What the hell was he talking about? "I don't have them, Mika. I swear."

Mika frowned at him. "Don't play games with me, Michael. I need to wear it tonight, because I refuse to go to the gym in my jeans!"

"You only own one pair of gym shorts?"

"No. The other one is in the washing machine! But that's not the point!"

Michael stared at the flustered Finn who seemed to be slowly losing his patience. He watched sheepishly as Mika set foot over his threshold.

"If you don't have my shorts then you don't mind me looking around a bit."

Michael froze on the spot. Scheiße! He remembered the picture of Mika wearing those exact same shorts hidden underneath his pillow and felt the sudden panic take over his body. He could handle Mika Häkkinen inside his trailer, but there was no way he could handle a Mika Häkkinen on investigation inside his trailer.

"Stop!"

Michael grabbed Mika by his arms and halted him. The sudden skin contact and the close proximity of the Finn caused the butterflies inside his stomach to fly up, to flap around inside his body and bump against his insestines.

"You're wasting your time here."

"Let me be the judge of that."

Michael stared into Mika's deep saphire blue eyes and swallowed. His hold on the Finn's wrist started to loosen. It was as if the Finn had enchanted him into cooperation.

Mika took the oppertunity to wriggle his wrist out off Michael's hand.

"Your clothing was inside my closet. You can make it easy for yourself and just tell me you have my shorts. There is no other suspect really."

Michael held his hands up in front of the Finn. "Mika, I don't know how my garment has ended up inside your closet!

"Oh no? What is that then?" Mika pushed Michael's hands down and pointed at a black object lying on Michael's floor. "There is no way you own exactly the same shorts as me. I bought it in Woking, England."

Michael felt the goose bumps form on his skin and the cold sweat trickle down the back of his neck. How the hell was that possible? How did Mika's shorts end up on his floor? Did he do weird shit like this while sleep wandering or something?!

"Mika, I didn't steal it. I feel like we are being played by someone!"

Mika quirked up an eyebrow and threw him a confused look. The Finn didn't seem to believe him.

Michael decided he could better put all his cards on the table, and prayed that it would not make the situation any more awkward than it already was.

"Mika, it's true! Let me explain! I found a picture of you in my mail box. Someone put it in there the same way someone sneaked your garment inside my motorhome! I have nothing to do with it!"

"Why would someone put a picture of me in your mail box? Where is it?"

Michael felt all the blood draw towards his face, colouring his cheeks a deep red. How the hell was he going to show Mika the hidden picture underneath his pillow and convince him he didn't find it himself?!

Then he would have to explain why it was so carefully stuffed underneath his pillow like some dirty secret. Thank God, he didn't actually put the picture in a heart shaped frame!

"I will give it to you if you close your eyes and promise me not to look."

"Why?"

"Just do it, alright!"

Michael made sure Mika had his eyes covered with both his hands, before he sneaked towards his bed to fetch the picture.

Mika secretly peeked through his fingers and gasped when he noticed where the German retrieved the picture from. His cheeks burned even brighter than before. Under his pillow? Really? Why under his pillow? What did that mean?

"Here it is."

Michael handed Mika his picture with the most stoic face he could muster, acting as if he hadn't admired the the image for days.

Mika looked at the picture of him playing tennis and pulled an amused face. "What a strange picture of me," he chuckled. "When did you find it in your mail box?"

"This morning," Michael lied. "I meant to give it back."

"But why would you hide it under your pillow?"

Michael's eyes widened, his hands started twitching next to his sides. Time seemed to slow down. He could only look into Mika's breathtaking eyes as the Finn was waiting for a reply.

"You promised not to look!"

Mika shrugged. "I thought it was kind of a weird proviso. A bit childish."

"That's so unfair!" Michael gave his Finnish rival a shove.

"Calm down, Michael. That's my face on there, those are my portrait rights. Don't you think I have the right to know why you're being supicious about my picture? I don't even know what you think of it?"

Michael stared at Mika's grinning face and blushed so deeply he was afraid his face would stay red for the rest of the day. As red as Mika's McLaren jacket.

"What I think of it?"

Mika nodded.

Michael swallowed, his adam's apple bobbing up and down in his throat. "Well, if you want to know... I think it's a nice picture of you."

"Just a nice picture?" Mika teased.

Michael pressed his lips together in a thin line. His cheeks were burning like an oven. What was he trying to convey? The beautiful bastard!

Mika was just as flustered about the situation, but the difference between him and Michael was that he was the one in control. He had nothing to clarify. He wasn't the one with a picture of the other under his pillow.

Michael didn't dare to speak his mind, so Mika thought he needed a bit of convincing.

"Michael, could you close your eyes for a moment?"

"What? Why?"

"Just do it, alright."

Michael did as he was asked and waited for what was to come. He expected Mika to run off with his shorts and his picture to never return, he expected him to punch him in the face for violating portrait rights... but he did not expect to feel Mika's soft lips on his own, giving him a small peck and sending Michael to outer space with the touch of his lips. The heat of his blush was now even painting his ears a fury red.

He felt his knees buckle and quickly grabbed the Finn by his McLaren jacket, hanging on to him as his legs turned into spagetthi strings.

"Mika..." he breathed out.

"What did you think of the picture, Michael?"

"The picture is... gorgeous. You are... beautiful."

Michael's hands let go off of Mika's jacket and started to crawl upwards. One of his hands grabbed the Finn's sharp jawline while the other planted itself in his luscious blonde hair, slowy angling Mika towards his mouth.

Mika closed the distance between the two of them and kissed Michael again.

Michael hugged his rival closer and deepened the kiss, while swerving his hands over Mika's body.

His lips trailed down to plant kisses on his jaw, then further down to kiss the alluring skin of his neck.

"May I keep the picture?"

Mika chuckeled. "Yes, you may."

"Mika?"

"Yes?"

"You should wear a head band when you play tennis. Your luscious hair is very dangerous for the weak-hearted."

[heavenboy09]

15 YEARS AGO TODAY, ON MAY 8TH, 2009

PARAMOUNT PICTURES, SKYDANCE,  & BAD ROBOT PICTURES PRESENTS

THE REBOOT OF A SCIFI CLASSIC PHENOMENON THAT HAS SPANNED OVER 4 DECADES SINCE 1966

DEEP IN THE OUTER REACHES OF THE VASTNESS OF SPACE 🌌

ABOARD THE USS ENTERPRISE 🚀, THE MOST-SOPHISTICATED STARSHIP EVER BUILT, A NOVICE CREW EMBARKS ON ITS MAIDEN VOYAGE. THEIR PATH TAKES THEM ON A COLLISION COURSE WITH NERO😈

A ROMULUS COMMANDER WHOSE MISSION OF VENGEANCE THREATENS ALL MANKIND.

IF HUMANITY WOULD SURVIVE, A REBELLIOUS YOUNG OFFICER NAMED JAMES T. KIRK👨‍🚀  AND A COOLLY LOGICAL VULCAN 🖖 NAMED SPOCK

MUST MOVE BEYOND THEIR RIVALRY AND FIND A WAY TO DEFEAT NERO BEFORE IT IS TOO LATE.

SPACE 🌌 THE FINAL FRONTIER. 

THESE ARE THE VOYAGES OF THE STARSHIP 👨‍🚀

ENTERPRISE 🚀

IT'S 5 YEAR MISSION TO EXPLORE STRANGE NEW WORLDS 🌎 🪐

TO SEEK OUT NEW LIFE 👽 AND NEW CIVILIZATIONS 🏙,

TO BOLDLY GO WHERE NO MAN HAS GONE BEFORE ....🌌🌠

HAPPY 15TH ANNIVERSARY TO PARAMOUNT PICTURES, SKYDANCE, BAD ROBOT 🤖 PICTURES PRESENTS

STAR 🌟 TREK  🚀👨‍🚀👩‍🚀🌌👽👾🛸 🖖

#StarTrek #JamesTKirk #Spock #Uhura #McCoy #Sulo #Chekov #Scotty #Nero #StarfleetAcademy #UFP #USSEnterprise #SpaceTheFinalFrontier #LiveLongandProsper #BoldyGo

[theirishaesthete]

A Vanishing World

Many people will be familiar with the photographs taken during the last century by the Jesuit priest, Fr Francis Browne, both those of the Titanic (which he boarded for its maiden voyage before disembarking prior to its ill-fated voyage across the Atlantic Ocean) and those depicting everyday life in Ireland. Much less well-known are the series of country house pictures that Browne began to take…