#attestation guide

[attestationguide]

How to Get Your Documents Attested - Apostile Service Mumbai, Pune, Thane!

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[bentreznor]

ohh that reminded me

[alygator77]

── try again

a/n. i've been sitting on wanting to create a small scene like this for a while now. so here ya go! lemme tell ya'll... breastfeeding is not always this magical and beautiful thing that people make it out to be. it hurts like hell, my bloody nipples can attest.

cw: domestic fluff. angst with comfort. satoru's trying to make breastfeeding easier for you.

“Satoru,” you whisper, voice tight with frustration. “She won’t latch.”

You’re trying not to cry.

Looking down at your newborn, you can see her frustration—tiny fists clenching, soft, hungry cries spilling from her mouth as she wriggles restlessly in your arms. You shift again, adjusting her position, cradling her closer, trying—begging—for something to click.

But it doesn’t.

Her mouth bobs and searches blindly, cheeks flushing red with effort, and the desperation building in her fragile little body mirrors your own.

“I—I don’t know what I’m doing wrong,” you choke out, blinking hard as tears blur your vision.

You’re exhausted. Beyond it. The sleepless nights at the hospital. Your body aches in places you didn’t even know could hurt. And this—this thing that was supposed to be natural, instinctual, beautiful—feels awkward and impossible—like a test you’re failing over and over again.

“Please, baby girl…” your voice trembles as you guide her to your breast one more time. “Just—c’mon—o-ow!”

She latches, but it’s wrong. A searing pain shoots through your chest and you flinch, instinctively pulling her away. Your nipple throbs—red, sore, screaming for relief. With a shrill cry, your baby’s tiny face crumples in protest, and your own tears finally fall—hot and helpless.

“Why is this so hard?” you whisper, voice cracking as you hold her close, shaking.

“Hey, hey… it’s okay. You’re doing everything right.”

Satoru's voice is low behind you—steady, but laced with worry.

His hands come to rest gently on your shoulders, warm and trembling, his thumbs moving in slow circles like he can massage away the frustration knotting in your muscles.

“She’s only a few days old…” he murmurs, leaning down to kiss the top of your head, lips lingering in your hair. “She’s still learning. Fuck… we are too.” He exhales shakily. “You’re doing the best you can, sweetheart. Please don’t be so hard on yourself.”

He straightens, blue eyes darting around the room like he’s searching for something—anything—to help.

“What can I do? Do you need anything? Where’s that—hang on—where’s that damn pillow thing…?” he mumbles, and you watch through watery eyes as he scrambles, clumsily grabbing the nursing pillow, adjusting it like he’s trying to solve a puzzle without the picture on the box. His movements are uncoordinated, frantic—but full of love.

Satoru kneels beside you as you try again, baby blue eyes flicking between your face and your daughter’s, willing the pieces to fall into place.

"C'mon baby girl... be nice to your momma for me, yeah?"

But when your little one latches again and you gasp, pulling her off with a pained cry, your resolve shatters.

“I—I can’t do it Satoru!” you say, brokenly. “I can't get her to latch, and when she does… it just hurts. So much.”

You feel like a failure. How can you not feed your baby?

As you look up at him through watery lashes, tears clinging to your cheeks, Satoru's expression cracks. He nods quickly, white brows furrowing as his lips press into a tight line, like he’s holding back the helplessness swelling in his chest.

“I know, baby. I know. Just… wait one sec.”

He’s on his feet in an instant, practically tripping over the edge of the rug as he rushes across the room. A moment later, he’s back—dragging a stool with one hand and clutching a spare pillow in the other. Dropping down in front of you, he crouches low, gently lifting your legs and placing them on the makeshift footrest.

“There,” he murmurs, positioning the pillow with care. “Put your feet up. Maybe if you’re more comfortable…”

Satoru fluffs the nursing pillow again with extra care, tucks the baby’s blanket around her tiny frame, then grabs your water bottle from the side table—uncapping it as he gently places it in your hand.

“C’mon momma... gotta stay hydrated.”

His voice is hushed, but purposeful. You sniffle, taking a sip of water, and he's shifting back toward the kitchen, glancing over his shoulder.

“Um… do you want a snack? I think there’s some of those lactation cookies in the kitchen…" his blue eyes flick back to you, and you see the gears turning in his head. "Or... I can make you something? Or—shit—I’ll Postmate something! What do you want? Fuck, I’ll Postmate everything if it’ll help.”

A tired, wet laugh escapes you—half amusement, half relief. “Great..." you wipe the tears from your eyes, smiling softly. "Now you’re spiraling too...”

He huffs out a sheepish breath, dragging a hand down his face as he plops beside you again. “Yeah… yeah, I am definitely spiraling.”

Reaching up, he brushes a damp strand of hair from your face, fingers grazing your temple with featherlight tenderness.

“You’re in pain...” he murmurs, blue eyes shimmering with concern. “And... I feel helpless just standing here. I can’t feed her. I can’t fix this…” he pauses, lips dropping into an exaggerated pout. “My nipples are completely useless, by the way.”

A choked, breathless laugh escapes through your tears, and his entire face softens at the sound, like it’s the only thing that’s mattered all day.

“What?” he grins. “It’s true. I’ve got nothing going on up here. Decorative at best. Yours, on the other hand—” he gestures with a flourish, “—doing heroic work. Damn sexy, too. Just sayin'.”

You roll your eyes through the blur of tears, laughing again, and lean into the warmth of his palm as it cradles your cheek.

It still hurts. You’re still exhausted, still raw, still aching in every possible way.

But in this moment—wrapped in Satoru's love, soothed by his gentle chaos and relentless care—you don’t feel quite so alone.

And somehow, with him by your side, you find the strength to try again.

And again.

And again.

Until finally… you get it right.

[majestyeverlasting]

Hi there! I’m new to your blog and I love your writing! I wanted to submit a request if that’s okay?

Request: a joel miller x pregnant reader drabble where the reader wakes up Joel all excitedly because the baby is kicking?🥰

𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧

Fluff, no outbreak, 1.3k

Pairing Joel Miller x Pregnant Female Reader

A/N Welcome, anon! Thanks for waiting a few days for me to get around to this request. I was in love with it the moment you sent it in.

∘°∘♡∘°∘

Magic stirs beneath your skin. That’s the best way to describe the feeling. Something real and near that you still find hard to believe. Nevertheless, you do. 

“Joel? Joel, wake up,” your whispered words carry your smile. 

The first pass of your fingers through his silver-streaked hair doesn’t elicit a response. He remains still, arms tucked beneath the pillow as his breath fans past slightly parted lips. So you do it again, this time letting your nails scratch his scalp. The feeling coaxes him into partial wakefulness, his lips twitching as he shifts beneath the milky sheets.

You’re sitting with your back propped against the headboard, a pillow cushioned behind you so the rustic wood feels kinder. The hem of your shirt is pulled up enough to bare the skin of your rounded stomach, where your free hand makes slow passes. 

“The baby’s kicking,” you say. 

A small sound rises up his throat as you continue stroking through his hair with a practiced gentleness. 

After a week that seemed to stretch forever, with appointments for you and a few double shifts for Joel, the weekend had arrived with the promise of rest. The amount of light streaming into the bedroom attests that it’s well past your usual rising time. You can’t bring yourself to mind. 

Not when you can hear the familiar barks of neighborhood dogs outside, and the muffled sound of Sarah and Ellie laughing downstairs since they’re home for Winter break. All the little things your mind oftentimes tuned out had become precious in the absence of immediate responsibilities. 

After Joel fights off the remaining grasp of sleep, his bleary eyes flutter open to the sunlit room. In the process of turning over to face you, the sheets slip further down and reveal more of his broad, freckled shoulders. 

He blinks up at you with those dark, warm eyes. “Mornin’, sweetheart,” he rumbles, propping himself on his forearms after shivering through a good stretch. “Everything okay—” 

“Gimme your hand,” you urge, your smile so compelling that his own, sleepier one begins to grow. 

Joel lets you guide his palm to rest over a specific spot on the left side of your stomach even though his long fingers cover way more ground. His touch is warm and steady against your skin, and you settle your smaller hand settle on top of his as you await his reaction. When he feels the first gentle press of the baby’s foot, the fact that it’s actually happening doesn’t quite register. For nearly five months, he’d been awaiting the day he could relish these more palpable signs of life. 

A small, focussed furrow forms between his brows, and it isn’t until the second press that a surprised chuckle escapes him, all breathy and disbelieving. He meets your gaze to confirm he hadn’t imagined it, and your sparkling eyes tell him everything he needs to know. 

“She’s kickin’...” his hand follows the gentle movements of your daughter. 

“I know. Thought I was gonna have to find an air horn to wake you up,” you say lightly.  

Joel’s cheeks warm as he chuckles, and the crinkles that form by his eyes are well worth it. 

“You’re too nice with it. Gotta jostle me next time.” 

A chuckle bubbles up your throat, but you shake your head with a certain sincerity. “I feel bad enough for waking you up,” you say. 

Joel’s hand stills against your stomach, and he looks at you more intently. “I wouldn’t miss this for anything,” he says. 

Especially with it being the first time your baby’s movements are so noticeable. Joel never had moments like this with Sarah.

Her mother got pregnant midway through their senior year of high school, and her family made her cut contact with Joel for her own sake. In their eyes, he was merely the guy who’d knocked up their promising young daughter. They didn’t know the two of them were in love. Or, at least, what Joel had believed was love. 

It had been an accident, he’d given them that. But he never saw it as an unfortunate thing, and quickly learned he was alone in bearing that belief. 

They were able to reconnect after Sarah’s mother was no longer living under her parents’ roof, but even then, that familial strain left a permanent mark. While she attended a four-year college, Joel took up a trade so he could start working as soon as possible to support them. As it became clear that she intended to rack up degrees in hopes of building the career her parents always envisioned for her, Joel stepped up to raise Sarah on his own. 

Scooting closer to you, he withdraws his hand and presses his lips to your skin in its place. They’re pillowy and warm, and the way you look down at him makes him prickle with a lovely, consuming warmth. 

He’d never cared for another person so deeply. Meeting you knocked him off his feet, and he never recovered. Then, on that quiet evening a few months ago, when you told him you were pregnant, the very fabric of his being shifted yet again. 

In roughly four months, he’d have another girl to hold, and just like with Sarah, Ellie, and you, his heart would stretch to accommodate the newness of it all. 

Terrifying is what it is. Terrifying, and wonderful, and something he wouldn’t trade even if the entire universe was up for a bargain. 

“Thank you,” he says against the skin of your stomach.

You comb your fingers through his hair. Even though you offer a soft smile, he can see the hint of curiosity in your gaze. 

“For waking me up,” he clarifies. “And for being so good to me and the girls.” You shake your head because you’d do it all over again if it meant finding your way back to this moment. “You’re gonna be the best mom. Already are.” 

A brief silence passes between the two of you as you chase after what little movements your daughter is willing to give you for the time being. In another life, you’d be able to say you envisioned being here with him back when you first met. When really, you’d been too scared to envision anything in fear you’d jinx an unseeable future. 

You’ve never been attracted to someone as holistically as you were to Joel. His wit is so endlessly funny that you find yourself laughing even when he claims he isn’t trying to be. And he’s the type of kind that never asks for permission but simply shows up and does. He has such a selfless willingness to ease the burdens of those around him that it seems like the rug is surely going to be pulled from under you, but it has yet to be. Being with him is easy.  

After having Sarah and later adopting Ellie, Joel reached a place where he was content in life. He never expected you to come along and enrich it beyond what he ever thought possible. 

“I love you,” Joel says to your belly, then flits his eyes up to you. “And I love you.” The fondness in his gaze makes you feel like you’re the only person in the world. 

“I love you more,” you reply softly, stroking his stubbled cheek with your thumb. 

Joel briefly purses his lips, but doesn’t counter like he usually does. Instead, he turns to kiss your hand. “What are you feeling for breakfast?” 

Your eyes take on a sparkle as a stray giggle escapes. Joel catches on immediately, shaking his head and losing the battle against his budding smile. 

“You,” you tease in a playful lilt, just to see the faint color that rises to his cheeks. “Don’t look at me like that, you walked right into that one.” 

“I did,” he admits, his grin widening despite himself. “What am I gonna do with you?” 

“You’ll figure something out.” You let your fingers trail gently along his jaw. 

Joel presses a final kiss to your stomach in hopes of hiding his lovesick smile.

He reckons he’ll figure something out. He always does. 

-

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. I promise I see them all. ♡

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[lets-try-some-writing]

Hello! I was thinking about natural disasters and that got me thinking…

What does the autobots do when face to earthquake, tornadoes, tsunami, ect?

The Autobots Guide to Earth Disasters

Earth is a strange and beautiful planet, but it has it's fair share of things to look out for. This document has been compiled to offer advice if anyone reading this should end up stuck in one of the following disasters. There are many potential dangers of being on this planet, but here are the most notable.

Earthquakes: There are several ratings to these disasters, but for us the rules are the same. Stay far away from the cities during these disasters. Behave as you would back on Cybertron and book it away from any tectonic plates. Buildings falling on you may not kill you here, but it hurts like slag. Just stay away from anything that could topple over and smack you and you should be fine. Contact your mission officer as soon as possible after you are out of immediate danger for extraction.

Floods: You don't have to worry much about this so long as you stay out of strong currents. Even if you get caught in a river or something of that nature, you are only likely to get dinged up a bit before you can get out of there. You will be wet and miserable, but otherwise unharmed. Don't stress too much and if possible, assist the humans who may or may not be drowning in their half submerged cars. They can't just wade through it like you can.

Forest/Wildfires: Evacuate the area immediately. Do not wait around and do not stop to observe. This disaster could actually kill you if you get too cocky. Fire is not to be underestimated, even on this backwater world. It may not burn as hot as energon based flames, but the scorching nature of earth fire will still sting, and if you let it, even melt your plating.

Tornados: Avoid if possible. Getting thrown around by these things is not fun and can cause damage during landing if not a flight frame. Smokescreen can attest to the pain of being tossed around after getting caught in one of these. It won't kill you unless you are exceptionally stupid, but it will certainly hurt. If you get caught, just stay calm and wait it out. There is no point in struggling.

Tsunami: Get the frag out of there. Is it likely to kill you? Probably not. Could it still cause serious harm? Absolutely. The threat level of this depends entirely on the area you find yourself in, but it is best to not get wrapped up in it.

Volcanic Eruptions: Again, just like with the fire, this could legitimately kill you. Move out as soon as possible and do not get wrapped up in the lava. You will lose a limb and there is no getting around that.

Storms: Don't go flying during a storm and don't be a moron and stand out in the middle of one. Both of these are just asking to get struck by lightening. No it is not lethal. Yes it is going to hurt and your optics will be on the fritz for weeks after. Optimus Prime himself can attest to this fact.

[poisonsage808]

john munch proposing hc’s

for my other 5 john munch lovers <3

• the little black box weighs heavy in his pocket. there’s four ex wives to attest to the fact it never brought him luck before. john’s cynical and paranoid, sure, but not enough to think he’s cursed. and below the surface of skepticism, he’s hopeful— more so since he met you

• he’s thought about this for a long, long time. back when you were convincing him how you were positive that you wanted him, instead of an age appropriate and less sarcastic man, he threw out that he wouldn’t want to deprive you of the marriage experience because he wasn’t going through it again

• damn it, if you didn’t change his mind

• there was a few perfect opportunities to pop the question before he finds the balls to ask it

• once was the least impulsive of them all, he planned a romantic dinner “just because”. then he realized the damn ring box was back in his desk at the precinct. if he didn’t know any better it was a warning from the universe

• another time was on a snowy evening where you two were snickering, tipsy off spiked hot chocolate and judging tourists who couldn’t handle the cold. john thought you looked radiant with snowflakes all around you, your nose and cheeks lightly blushed from the biting air. but his tongue was stuck and the question jumbled in his mind. not even liquid courage helped him then

~

The way you gasped nearly made him drop his coffee and reach for his gun. Dramatically, he put a hand over his heart and sighed heavily.

“What time is it?”

“You’re trying to send me into cardiac arrest over the time? I already told ya, you won’t be late.”

“Time!” You insisted, skipping ahead of him and not bothering to see if he was following.

Rolling his eyes with a faint, but fond, smile, he checks his watch and answers, “5:52. Make sure to tell the coroner when he— Hey!”

You’d missed his snarky reply, only turning around to grab his jacket and yank him to your speed. It was as if you were on a mission, bolting across the street and dragging John all the way. Still holding his arm, you peel back his sleeve to check the time on his watch.

“Yes!” You should victoriously, a crazed smile splitting your face in two, “Look!”

“Sweetheart, you can’t just grab a guy like that! What if someone thought you were muggin’ me!?”

You were missing all his good quips this morning.

Ignoring him, you pointed insistently at the green street name, “Look!”

John’s brows pull together in utter bewilderment. Looking from you to the sign, he shakes his head.

“Doll, I love ya, I do, but you’re not making much sense—“

“Munch!” That name’s reserved for when he’s getting on your nerves, so he couldn’t figure out why you still looked so damn excited, “This is the exact spot when we first met! The exact time too! 5:55 in the morning, I remember because those are the angel numbers for change!” You sighed fondly at the memory, shutting your eyes as if reliving that moment. Your smile was sweeter and your tone softened as you squeezed his hand, “And you changed my life.”

His chest constricted dangerously and his throat threatened to close. He squeezed back desperately, as if letting go meant the end. Dropping his coffee to the ground, his hand flew to cup your cheek and guide you into a passionate kiss that you wouldn’t expect from John in public. By the time he pulled away, his spare hand reached into his pocket and pulled out the velvet box.

“Je regrette rien.. but I would if I didn’t ask you this.” His voice trembled with sincerity. “Will you marry me?”

[dadcred]

hi! it's been a bit since i've shared any french ffxiv playthrough notes, but i've been making my way through endwalker recently, and while there have been quite a few differences i've noted, this is the one i want to share most so far. please excuse any spelling errors or missing words!

the scene: upon meeting hydaelyn after completing the aitiascope dungeon, she speaks directly to each scion.

to alphinaud:

en: thou dost pursue an impossible dream, yet knowing this, you pursue it nevertheless. and thou has learnt to depend on others as they do thee.

fr: your world fell apart when you realized that there was no absolute justice, and yet, your friends extended you a hand

to alisae:

en: thy yearning for the power to save the powerless hath ever driven thee to greater heights, thou hast grown strong.

fr: your strength on its own has sometimes revealed itself not to be enough to achieve your wishes, but whenever your powerlessness tourmented you, your idol was there totake you along in their wake.

to thancred:

en: though those closest to thee no longer walket by thy side, their love remaineth thy guiding light

fr: despite your grief of not having been able to protect the person whom you cherished the most, you never relinquished the love that lived in you and it has led you to find a new hope.

to urianger:

en: for duty's sake, thou has been bound by truths unutterable time and time again. yet thy heart never wavered, as they companions will attest.

fr: as for you, you suffered from not knowing how to express the essence of your emotions. fortunately, those whom you surround yourself with didn't need words to read into your heart.

to yshtola:

en: in thy pursuit of mysteries great, all thou believed was called into question. undaunted, thy thirst for knowledge remaineth unquenched.

fr: the truth is often deformed, sometimes forgotten. but even after having accepted this as fact, you never abandoned your quest for wisdom in the hopes of finding that which you searched

to estinien:

en: the fires of hatred that once burned in thy heart burneth no more. from their ashes doth spring light and love, warm and pure.

fr: hatred scorched your earths and consumed your people in great numbers, but a glimmer of hope surged forth from the white ashes to reveal an azure future

to graha:

en: as witness to black calamity, thou despaired at man's helplessness. resolved, thou didst unite a distant world on the brink of collapse.

fr: you endeavored to do the impossible to save a world from an unprecedented catastrophe, and after that, having convinced a whole people that they could write their own destiny, you accepted to live your own adventure.

[c-o-t-o]

Veiled Whispers - Xavier (Part 2)

(Part 1 here)

Author: c-o-t-o

Character: Xavier x fem reader

CW: 18+ only, sexual content/smut, explicit language, drunkenness, dubcon, teasing, light bdsm (some CWs apply to other parts)

Misc: ~1.8k words, Part 2

About: After your date, once Xavier draws the curtains closed, he wants to show you how good he can make you feel

*Do not remove info or credit from posts when reblogging or sharing!*

"Xavier…” you respond back with slight embarrassment in your voice. You can feel your face getting warm, not sure if it's from being flustered, drunk, or a mix of both. But your train of thought is cut short when you feel Xavier’s lips against the nape of your neck. His lips are so soft and melt into your skin as he kisses you. You can feel his hot breath tumbling down onto your skin, raising goosebumps in its path. Between every kiss you hear him exhale lazily, drunkenly, lustfully. Each moan becomes less breathy and more gutteral.

Xavier’s kisses move down your neck to your shoulder while he slowly begins to circle around you. You're still kneeling on his bed, the top of your dress hanging at your waist. Your eyelids so heavy from sleepiness and the alcohol, but trying so hard to stay awake so that you can burn this into your brain forever. Xavier had always flirted with you, he wasn't really shy about how he felt. But you didn't think the night would lead to this, and you aren't going to let yourself be too drunk to remember it.

Once Xavier makes it around to your front, he cups your cheek, eyes lingering on you for what feels like forever. Even in this darkness you can see how red his face has become. He really is drunk… you didn't think it was possible, but then again you don't recall him ever drinking much. You see him blinking slowly, eyes trying to focus each time, another sign attesting to his drunkenness.

Xavier sighs as his fingers drag down from your cheek, down your neck, to your chest.

“How did I get so lucky to be spending a night like this with you?" Xavier puts his hand in the small of your back, and gently guides you so that you lay back down onto the bed. He crawls up over you, staring at your exposed chest. He leans down and kisses your collarbone, then your sternum, and eventually the top of your breast.

“Tonight is all about you, my love," Xavier says as he kisses your breast again, his lips sinking into the suppleness of them. “Let me show you how good I can make you feel." Xavier whispers before leaning down to gently lick your nipple. You feel your nipple harden immediately with just one swipe of his tongue. Xavier moans quietly as he sucks it gently in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it, like he's tasting something sweet and enjoyable. As he massages it with his tongue, you also feel his hands running all over your body, wanting to feel every inch of you.

Suddenly you feel Xavier’s kisses trail down to your stomach, pulling your dress down as he moves. He pauses for a moment to lay his face down on your tummy.

“Your skin is so soft, I could take a nap here," Xavier says while gently rubbing his cheek against your stomach. “I love this part of you, too." But Xavier fights the tiredness and continues kissing your body. He makes it down to your underwear, and you instinctively reach out to stop him.

“Xavier, wait, I… are you sure? You don't have to…” you say, realizing what he was about to do.

"I know I don't have to,” Xavier whispers, even though the two of you are alone. "But I want to. I want to kiss and taste every inch of you.” Xavier says, but giving you no time to respond before his face ends up between your thighs. Your back arches in response, hands shooting forward and fingers spread. Xavier reaches up with one hand and laces his fingers with yours, wanting so much to hold your hand, even now.

He begins by laying gentle kisses on the inside of your thighs, sometimes nuzzling his face on them. His kisses start closing in between them, when you finally feel his hot tongue on your most sensitive area, causing that spring inside your tummy to tighten. You immediately moan out loud and you hear Xavier chuckle gently to himself against you.

“All those times you'd poke and prod at me, I told you I'd get you back… catch you after sundown…” Xavier says between licks. While he speaks to you teasingly, you feel his fingers run through your wetness and gently start circling you clit. "You're so wet,” he says almost in astonishment, since he really only just got started.

"Because it feels so good.” You manage to say between your breathy moans.

"That's all I want,” Xavier says, kissing your thigh again. He suddenly slides his fingers inside you. Suddenly, but so delicately. How does he know how to do all of this so well? You start to wonder, but think maybe it's for the best if you don't know. You don't want to start getting jealous now.

“Is this okay? Does it hurt at all?" Xavier asks while looking up at you like a puppy, his eyes wide open and eyebrows narrowed, waiting for a response. After you shake your head no, Xavier moves back down between your thighs and starts licking you while his fingers are buried inside of you. The double stimulation is almost enough to send you over the edge, just like that.

You instinctively reach down to run your fingers through Xavier's hair, not quite sure what to do with yourself because of how good it feels. You momentarily giggle to yourself though, because you can feel how hot Xavier’s ears are, and wonder how red they've become from the alcohol. His tongue feels so hot against you, his saliva pooling below you on his bed. Normally you’d worry about that, but right now you’re too drunk and too turned on to care.

Eyes closed and head sunken into Xavier’s bed, you can hear every sound in his room amidst the complete silence. The gentle ticking of his clock, the softness of his pillows as your head sinks into them, and the absolute wet lapping of Xavier’s tongue against your clit. You can feel yourself clenching down there when you suddenly hear Xavier trying to suck up some of the wetness that’s dripping down you. Xavier… sucking it all up, yes his saliva but also your own wetness. You feel your face turning even more red now at the thought of it. Xavier suddenly starts moaning almost pleadingly as he licks and sucks you.

“You taste so sweet,” he says trying to catch his breath, “I couldn’t help myself.” You feel Xavier pull his fingers out of you and look down expecting him to stop, when you lock eyes with him. He slides his fingers into his mouth and closes his eyes, moaning. “So sweet.”

You cover your face in embarrassment for having watched him do that, even though it was really fucking hot. Does he really like the taste? Or is he just really drunk and lustful?

Xavier crawls back up over you, chest moving in and out quickly as he starts panting. He looks down at you, and momentarily averts his eyes, covering his mouth from embarrassment himself. He eventually looks back at you though, and his cheeks and ears are entirely beet red. You reach up to touch his face, but Xavier takes your hand and kisses it. He takes your hand and puts it on his chest over his heart, eyes never leaving your face.

“My heart has never beat so fast before.” Xavier admits. “This shows how much I…” his eyes look away again as he blushes more. When he looks back at you, he cups your face with his hand, placing his forehead down on yours. “How much I love you.” He whispers, then chuckles at himself faintly, as if relieved to have finally said it.

“Xavier…” you say while putting your hand over his. “You’re… just drunk…” Xavier’s head snaps up to look back at you, eyes looking at you pleadingly.

“No, I… I mean, I am… but I mean it. I really do.” Xavier slowly leans in and kisses your lips so softly, making a gentle smacking sound when his lips pull away from yours. “I love you, and I love every part of you. I want to be close to you… to make you feel good.” Xavier kisses you again, even deeper this time. He breathes heavily and you can feel his body almost squirming above you.

It’s now that you notice the bulge that has been pressing up against your thigh. Xavier has been trying so hard to not keep rubbing against you, but he’s losing that fight. If this was any other person, you’d think that they look pathetic above you the way Xavier looks right now. Eyes looking at you desperately, hard on rubbing against you almost involuntarily now, panting out loud. But because it’s Xavier, all that’s doing is turning you on and making you want him even more,

“Can I,” he pants, speaking between each breath, rubbing against you each time, “please… show you… how much… I love you?”

Mere seconds after nodding your head yes, Xavier grabs your face and pulls you into the deepest kiss you’ve ever had. Not needing to hold back anymore, he immediately starts moaning and panting while he kisses you, every second turning him on even more. You feel Xavier start licking your lips between kisses and you feel your clit start burning from arousal.

He breaks free from your lips for just a second to take off his pants and underwear, the last of his clothes, as you slip the rest of your dress and underwear off as well.

Your eyes have adjusted to the darkness, but his room was still extremely dark. You couldn’t really see very well between that and your hazy drunk vision. But you do see Xavier’s slim and extremely toned body moving towards you. Not able to wait any longer, Xavier runs himself through your wetness. He’s already incredibly hard from going down on you and kissing you.

As Xavier gets ready to enter you, he leans down again and starts kissing you deeply. He wants to hear you react to him entering you, to know how good it feels. When he finally slides inside of you, your head falls further, a loud moan escaping through your lips into his. You feel him throb inside of you after you moan. Xavier starts off gently pumping in and out of you, assessing how much of his length he can fill you with. Once he starts getting into a good pace, he grabs your hand, locking eyes with you.

Xavier holds your hand to his chest, light starting to shine out from both of you. You suddenly feel the heat from your arousal spread further into you, Xavier feeling even hotter and more engorged inside of you. You moan out loud, covering your mouth with your other hand in surprise. Xavier grins slyly and chuckles, pumping into you a little deeper and faster now.

“Are you ready to see those stars?” He moans into your ear.

[yamayuandadu]

I remember reading that Mesopotamia doesn’t really have vampires or anything close to that is this true

The notion of a “Mesopotamian vampire” called ekimmu appears to be widespread in assorted vampire lexicons of questionable quality (ex. Bob Curran, Vampires: A Field Guide to the Creatures That Stalk the Night, p. 26-33 - I barely made it past “god Irkalla”; Stuart A. Kallen, Vampire History and Lore, p. 12-14; Brad Steiger, Real Vampires, Night Stalkers and Creatures from the Darkside, p. 1) - typically with no sources cited, or with the only sources being other similar publications.  None of this has any value.

Simply put, the ekimmu is a mirage. No such an entity is attested. More under the cut.

The last time anyone used the term ekimmu in an assyriological publication was in 1952 - in René Labat’s review criticizing the use of outdated, incorrect readings in a book written by a non-specialist relying on at best secondary sources - in this case, a mistaken old reading of the ordinary Akkadian word etemmu (p. 128). The term etemmu is the Akkadian word for what a person becomes after death - “spirit” is probably the optimal translation. It is fascinating how often the alleged “vampire” is automatically labeled as “Sumerian”; the Sumerian translation - which could actually be used as a logogram to write the Akkadian word - is gidim (Tzvi Abusch, Etemmu in Essays on Babylonian and Biblical Literature and Religion, p. 87).

According to Atrahasis, etemmu was something humans by default possess since their creation - a punning etiology derives this term from the ṭēma (“understanding”, “intelligence”) of Wê-ilu, who at least in this myth serves as the source of “raw materials” for the creation of mankind (Alhena Gadotti, ‘Gilgamesh, Enkidu, and the Netherworld’ and the Sumerian Gilgamesh Cycle, p. 112)

The fact that every single dead person was an etemmu alone should be enough to show that this term does not primarily designate a malevolent being. An etemmu whose family made sure to follow the appropriate funerary rites - burial, offerings, etc. -  would then integrate into the “society” of the underworld; this was the standard fate, reflected in a plethora of literary texts. Sometimes dead ancestors of this sort could even be invoked in exorcisms to protect the patient (Etemmu…, p. 87-89). Problems could arise in absence of a burial or funerary offerings, or in the case of the destruction of a body. An unburied, forgotten etemmu would eventually lose the grasp of their original identity, and drift towards the formless, generally poorly defined state of being associated with demons (Etemmu…, p. 88). They were simply designated as eṭemmu lemnu - “evil etemmu” (Daniel Schwemer, Any Evil, a Stalking Ghost, and the Bull-Headed Demon, p. 150). There is some evidence that such an entity could be imagined with a bull’s head, as best reflected by the description known from the Underworld  Vision  of  an  Assyrian  Prince (Any Evil…, p. 154-155). Since there is evidence that in certain situations the bellowing of a bull - or noises resembling it, including tinnitus-like symptoms - were an ill omen. Making the evil etemmu - whose appearance was a bad omen in itself - capable of emitting such noises by providing them with bovine traits would then likely reflect the widespread idea that malevolent supernatural beings were capable of making animal noises (Any Evil…, p. 158). Some sources indicate that a roaming etemmu who lost their original identity could potentially become an utukku (Etemmu…, p. 88). However, it should be noted that utukku is a notably vague category which also encompassed benevolent entities (Markham J. Geller, Udug in RlA vol. 14, p. 274).

In any case, even if we were to limit the meaning of etemmu to the most malevolent specimens - which would obviously be disingenuous and outright against the actual meaning of the term -  nothing here is really “vampiric” in any meaningful way. Doesn’t matter whether you apply this term to refer to the vaguely defined category of entities from European folklore, to movie monsters based on them, or more broadly as an umbrella term for blood-drinking legendary creatures. I suppose everything starts to look like a nail if all you have is a hammer, though - and that’s how all that vampire literature reads to me…

Granted, I am under the impression this is generally not the most rigorous of disciplines (if it’s even fair to call it that). Note that one of the very few examples to make it to jstor - James Craig Holte’s Not All Fangs Are Phallic: Female Film Vampires - couples the ekimmu claim (explicitly based on the author’s questionable interpretation of an almost century old publication) with speculation about some universal mother goddess or the like then demonized into female vampires (of the sort which really only goes back to 19th century novels), somehow (p. 163-164).

[itspheenixbaby]

RIDICULOUS GROUP SCENARIOS i scripted for my kpop dr

now playing . . . "mas que nada" by black eyed peas

A big, smelly ass rat found itself on stage mid way through an encore...guess who ran off stage crying?

male member gets struck by lightning after saying God should "strike him down" if he's lying about denying his crush on a female member. he went in a coma for two weeks.

got stranded on a rich members gifted yacht in south east asia. then the ship started sinking and we knew we were cooked. but luckily got saved by...pirates...? and hustled to an event in singapore via carpooling in a basically totaled car for four days straight.

doing the pacer test as a challenge on a high school themed variety show. it wasnt planned by the show makers but our managers requested it to fuck with us.

the group went on a "team building retreat" (fancy word for vacation) in Brazil and got lost in the Amazon rainforest because somebody forgot to book a guide and some others were convinced we didnt need it. rescued by our managers in their chopper (which nobody knew they had?? because who tf just has a chopper). but it seemed like they just ran into us on their way to do something.

big paintball match with a bunch of other idol groups. like group v. group. but we took it way too seriously! military strategizing and everything. we won tho.

performed a cover of "jailhouse rock" by elvis in orange jumpsuits a day before our CFO got arrested. no we did not know that he was getting put behind bars.

the group has a fleet of cars (since were too cool to get driven around...or something? the logic is stupid, whatever it is) some shared some private. almost nobody in the group save for like five people should be let on the road. none of us can drive. nearly every idol in our age group has been in a car with the shitty driver line and can attest to it.

the group split into two and bet against if two members would end up together by the end of the year. the group who lost had to give the other group fifty dollars each and eat dog food. (in my dr my intuition is crazy good so no, i was not in the loosing group)

a member got his bedframe and mattress off of temu for like fifteen dollars. it broke down on a livestream a year later. like nobody was even sitting/ laying on it, it just broke.

[babyrdie]

Okay, I've recently been reading some academic interpretations of the parallels/connections between Achilles and Apollo, Achilles and Patroclus, and Achilles and Neoptolemus (I think, as is notable because of the inclusion of Achilles and Neoptolemus, I'm talking about sources in general and not just the Homeric texts). The interesting part is that some of these interpretations seemed to connect with each other, even if unintentionally.

The thing about Achilles' birth is that either a son of Thetis was destined to possibly be a cosmic threat (see Aeschylus' Bound Prometheus for an example, but there are other sources) or else Achilles' existence is a product of an offended Zeus at being rejected (e.g. Apollonius Rhodius' Argonautica). Thetis is forced to marry Peleus and the wedding takes place on Mount Pelion, in the home of the centaur Chiron and in the presence of the gods. This is a constant element of mythology, with a long list of sources attesting to such a scenario. Apollo is particularly heavily emphasized as one of the members present. We see this in the discussion between Apollo and Hera in both The Iliad and Posthomerica, for example. Apollo was there. He is described doing the following activities, depending on the source: 1) leading the choir/playing/singing 2) pouring libations 3) prophesying. As far as prophecies go, Apollo notably prophesies positive things about the child of this marriage for Thetis (see, for example, Plato's Rebuplic and Aeschylus fragment 189). From the beginning, Apollo was linked to Achilles. Not only like the other gods by being present at the marriage that would produce him, but by bringing him into by telling a prophecy to Thetis. And as we know, Achilles is a figure very much guided by the prophetic context surrounding his life, so Apollo, as a prophetic god, being linked to him seems to make some sense.

Well, now let's talk about Patroclus-Achilles. I've already talked about this in more detail in another post (although still briefly), so I'll keep it short in this one. To put it very simply, there is an interpretation of Patroclus = Achilles. What does that mean? It means that Patroclus is supposed to assume a kind of "dual identity" with Achilles, in which they're as one. This is, of course, mainly supported by Book 16 of The Iliad, although it isn't the only text used for this argument. Anyway, Book 16 Patroclus personifies Achilles. He not only wears his armor, he also assumes a personality quite similar to that of Achilles and even receives the same epithets. For a moment, he IS Achilles. And I'm not saying "he's Achilles because they thought he was Achilles", I'm saying that, symbolically, the narrative treats him as if he were Achilles. But not entirely, because Patroclus isn't LITERALLY Achilles, which is why he can't lift Achilles' spear (no one can, only the owner) and why he dies to Hector, while the real one kills Hector. But while the circumstances of Patroclus' death set him apart from the one he impersonates, they also bring him closer to him. A major figure in Patroclus' death is Apollo, who at one point says:

“Give way Patroclus, seed of Zeus; it is not fated that the city of the noble Trojans be sacked under your spear, nor under that of Achilles, he who is greater by far than you.”

The Iliad, 16.707-709. Translation by Caroline Alexander.

There is an apparent connection between Patroclus and Achilles being made by Apollo here. Apollo prophesies his death, claiming that he isn't destined to sack Troy and that neither is Achilles. In this interpretation, Apollo, as the god of prophecy, is indirectly predicting Achilles' death through Patroclus' death. The connections between Patroclus' death and Achilles' death are reinforced at other times, for example when the horses, moved by Hera, while mourning Patroclus also prophesy Achilles' death in Book 19. The ghost Patroclus' request that Achilles mix his ashes when Achilles dies in Book 23 also foretells this. Symbolically, by killing Patroclus, Apollo kills Achilles. And when Hector prophesies that Achilles will be killed by Paris and Apollo, this is how Achilles responds:

“Lie dead. I will take death at that time when Zeus and the other deathless gods wish to accomplish it.”

The Iliad, 21.356-366. Translation by Caroline Alexander.

While Iliadic Achilles was always portrayed as being neutral about the idea of ​​dying because he already knew about the prophecy, in this moment we have an Achilles who undeniably doesn't care about death. Patroclus' death made him not care. Because by killing Patroclus, a part of Achilles was killed as well. Achilles was killed, symbolically.

Later, Apollo actually kills Achilles, which is a common feature in the traditions. The way this is done varies. Sometimes it is just Apollo (e.g. Hyginus, Sophocles, Quintus), sometimes it is Paris (most sources, already indicated in The Iliad because of a line from Hector), but the point is: Apollo kills Achilles. Ironically, the prophetic god is the one who fulfills the prophecy that Achilles is fated to die young in exchange for undying glory. Also ironically, Achilles' death makes him more similar to Apollo. They were both already healers, both lyrists, both had similar physical appearances (even in visual representations) and Achilles was already close to the divine sphere, which is particularly reinforced by the fact that in The Iliad a word for anger that is only applied to gods is also applied to Achilles and only Achilles. But now that Apollo has killed him and Achilles died young, he will be eternally young, just as Apollo is, being a deity associated with young men (just as Artemis is associated with young women). Not only that, but he will be immortal in the sense that his achievements will be remembered forever, just as he wanted. Achilles is eternally young and immortal, reflecting the image of Apollo even though he isn't literally immortal.

But Apollo wasn't done killing Achilles, in a way. After Achilles comes Neoptolemus. It's pretty clear that Neoptolemus is supposed to be a sort of "new Achilles." It's even present in the character's name: Pausanias says that Phoenix renamed Phyrrus Neoptolemus (new + war) in honor of Achilles, in reference to both being young when they set out to war. In Posthomerica, the moment when Odysseus and Diomedes arrives on Skyros reminds Deidamia of when they went for Achilles, and she fears for Neoptolemus' life as she feared for Achilles', superimposing the two of them. When Neoptolemus leaves, it's because he has been promised glory, a glory he craves as he pursues the ghost of his dead father. In Sophocles' Philoctetes, Neoptolemus is an opposition to Odysseus' methods in the sense that Odysseus prefers cunning while Neoptolemus prefers honesty (albeit with greater use of force), which in some ways recalls the interaction between Odysseus and Achilles in Book 9 of The Iliad (although there is some debate about that Book, but let's ignore that and focus on what matters). In Euripides' Andromache, the cause of Neoptolemus' death is indirectly his dissatisfaction with Achilles' death. But the point is: Achilles dies without accomplishing what was supposed to be accomplished (sacking Troy), his son comes and finishes the "job" (he sacks Troy). Achilles killed Hector, Neoptolemus often kills Astyanax (sometimes it's Odysseus). Achilles killed Andromache's family, Neoptolemus enslaves her. Even if negatively, Neoptolemus is supposed to be guided by what he thinks Achilles was and is willing to finish what was started. Just as Achilles killed Troilus in the temple of Apollo, Neoptolemus killed Priam in the temple of Zeus and, at times, such visual representations appear in the same piece. There is even the possibility that Troilus represents Troy and, therefore, by killing Troilus Achilles was "killing Troy" and Neoptolemus, by repeating an action so similar to his father's but with Priam and in the temple of Zeus, was confirming that yes, Troy is dead. Both are precocious warriors who become violent to the point of committing offenses against the divine, seduced by the idea of ​​glory that will immortalize them.

Apollo was right when he prophesied that Achilles wouldn't sack Troy, but in some ways an extension of Achilles (Neoptolemus) did. Because that's it: Achilles may not have been the one who broke down the gates, he was still the one who for years did a considerable amount of the work to keep the Achaeans advancing. He is still responsible for the fall of Troy, even if he died before. And this can be symbolized by Neoptolemus himself, a reminder that Achilles as a person may be gone, but his legacy not. Later, Apollo also has a relationship with the death of Neoptolemus. Thus, even with Achilles already dead, Apollo kills him for a third time by killing, directly or indirectly, Neoptolemus.

And the interesting part is that all of these deaths are deeply connected with Apollo's prophetic domain. Apollo prophesied about Achilles to Thetis in more than one source, there was also another prophecy about Achilles' death and one about Patroclus' death (as told by Achilles in The Iliad), Apollo prophesied the fate of Patroclus and Achilles to Patroclus himself, the horses prophesied Achilles' fate to him, Neoptolemus became the "new Achilles" because a prophecy from Helenus (whose prophetic gift comes from Apollo) said he was needed, Neoptolemus used prophecy to escape divine punishment (he is said to have used Helenus' prophecies to escape the punishment by sea that the Achaeans were receiving. See Pausanias for an example), but still receives it when he is killed in the temple of Apollo.

If we consider the disguise version (the earliest attested source for this version is a lost painting by Polygnotus), then Neoptolemus is conceived at a time when there is an attempt to avert a prophecy: Thetis hid Achilles at the court of Lycomedes to prevent the prophecy of his death from being fulfilled, in the process Deidamia became pregnant with Neoptolemus. Neoptolemus, ironically, has a prophecy about him that is connected with the prophecy of Achilles, I believe. After all, his role as the "new Achilles" implies that the "old Achilles" is no longer there, i.e. dead… i.e. the prophecy has been fulfilled. The prophecy surrounding Neoptolemus depends on the prophecy surrounding Achilles, and the birth of Neoptolemus, in the disguise myth version, ironically happens in an attempt to avert it. In Euripides' Andromache, by offending Apollo because of Achilles' death, Neoptolemus gets his own death. The fates of Achilles and Neoptolemus are connected, even if they never actually interacted while alive (I say "while alive" because Achilles' ghost interacts with Neoptolemus in some versions, such as The Little Iliad).

Where Patroclus was supposed to be a more "controlled" part of Achilles, Neoptolemus is the more "wild" part of Achilles. And Achilles is somewhere in between. Apollo, however, eliminates all of these symbolic aspects of Achilles. He repeatedly kills Achilles, who somewhat ironically bears enough similarities to Apollo that some academic have claimed that Achilles is supposed to be inspired by Apollo to some degree. And that one of the main destroyers of Troy has a connection to the main protector of Troy is really intriguing.

Well, I rambled a lot. Just wanted to share some ideas I've read around for a while. These are interpretations, so anyone can disagree with these suggestions, but I still think it's interesting. I hope I have synthesized these interpretations/theories in an understandable way.

[attestationguide]

Navigating Oman Embassy Attestation: Your Comprehensive Guide to Hassle-Free Certification

If you're planning to work, study, or do business in Oman, you'll likely need to go through the Oman Embassy Attestation process. This is a crucial step to ensure your documents are recognized and accepted by the Omani authorities. In this comprehensive guide, we'll walk you through everything you need to know about Oman Embassy Attestation, making the process as smooth and hassle-free as possible.

What is Oman Embassy Attestation?

Oman Embassy Attestation is a procedure that involves verifying the authenticity of your documents through various authorities before they can be recognized in Oman. This process is essential for educational certificates, marriage certificates, birth certificates, and other significant documents. Without proper attestation, your documents might not be valid in Oman, potentially leading to delays or rejections in your applications for visas, jobs, or educational admissions.

Why is Oman Embassy Attestation Necessary?

The primary reason for Oman Embassy Attestation is to ensure that the documents being presented are genuine and legitimate. This helps in preventing fraud and ensures that only authentic documents are used in official proceedings. Whether you are moving to Oman for work, higher education, or personal reasons, having your documents attested by the Oman Embassy is a mandatory requirement. This attestation serves as proof that your documents have been verified and approved by the relevant authorities.

The Process of Oman Embassy Attestation

Step 1: Notary Attestation

The first step in the Oman Embassy Attestation process is getting your documents attested by a notary public. This step ensures that your documents are verified at a local level. The notary will check the authenticity of your documents and provide a seal and signature, confirming their legitimacy.

Step 2: Attestation by the Home Department

After the notary attestation, the next step is to get your documents attested by the Home Department of your state or country. This attestation further verifies that your documents are authentic and have been issued by legitimate authorities.

Step 3: Attestation by the Ministry of External Affairs (MEA)

Once the Home Department attestation is complete, the documents need to be attested by the Ministry of External Affairs. The MEA attestation is a crucial step as it confirms that your documents are genuine and can be used internationally.

Step 4: Oman Embassy Attestation

The final step is to get your documents attested by the Oman Embassy. This step involves submitting your documents to the embassy, where they will be reviewed and verified once again. After the embassy attestation, your documents will be legally recognized in Oman.

Common Documents Requiring Oman Embassy Attestation

Educational Documents

Degree Certificates

Diploma Certificates

Mark Sheets

School Leaving Certificates

Personal Documents

Birth Certificates

Marriage Certificates

Divorce Certificates

Death Certificates

Commercial Documents

Power of Attorney

Company Invoices

Trade Licenses

Memorandum of Association

Tips for a Hassle-Free Oman Embassy Attestation

Prepare Your Documents in Advance

Ensure that all your documents are complete and in order before starting the attestation process. This includes checking for any discrepancies or missing information that could cause delays.

Hire a Professional Attestation Service

Consider hiring a professional attestation service to handle the process on your behalf. These services have experience and expertise in dealing with the attestation process, which can save you time and effort.

Stay Updated with the Latest Requirements

The attestation requirements can change, so it’s essential to stay updated with the latest guidelines from the Oman Embassy. This ensures that you have all the necessary documents and information for a smooth attestation process.

FAQs about Oman Embassy Attestation

What is the average time required for Oman Embassy Attestation?

The time required for Oman Embassy Attestation can vary depending on the type of document and the processing time at each stage. On average, it can take anywhere from a few days to several weeks.

Can I get my documents attested if I am not in my home country?

Yes, you can get your documents attested even if you are not in your home country. You can send your documents to a trusted person or an attestation service provider who can handle the process on your behalf.

How much does Oman Embassy Attestation cost?

The cost of Oman Embassy Attestation can vary depending on the type of document and the service provider you choose. It’s advisable to check with the embassy or a professional attestation service for an accurate estimate.

Is Oman Embassy Attestation required for all types of visas?

Yes, Oman Embassy Attestation is generally required for various types of visas, including employment visas, student visas, and family visas. It ensures that your documents are recognized and accepted by the Omani authorities.

Can I expedite the Oman Embassy Attestation process?

Yes, some professional attestation services offer expedited processing for an additional fee. This can significantly reduce the time required for the attestation process.

Oman Embassy Attestation is a critical step in ensuring that your documents are valid and recognized in Oman. By understanding the process and following the necessary steps, you can make the attestation process smooth and hassle-free. Whether you are moving to Oman for work, study, or personal reasons, having your documents properly attested will save you time and avoid any potential complications. If you need assistance, consider hiring a professional attestation service to handle the process for you, ensuring that your documents are attested accurately and efficiently.

[feasibilities]

Forsaken | Thomas Shelby x Reader (NSFW) ⚮

Synopsis: Thomas eases his loneliness with a famous burlesque dancer. Warnings: False Imprisonment (technically), Assassination Attempt, Spanking, Pet Names, Exhibitionism, Desperation Author's Note: S6 Thomas Shelby? My man, my man, my man. Enjoy.

“Sorry, sir, but the show is over.” You said aimlessly, feeling the presence of a man. 

“Not for me, it isn’t.” He retorted, rubbing a cigarette across his lips & lighting it. 

Your head snapped back to the British gang leader turned MP, Thomas Michael Shelby. He looked quite different from the first time you saw him. He was starting to grey on the sides of his head and he sported wireframe glasses. 

“A Member of Parliament coming to see a burlesque show. How appropriate.” You chided, crossing your legs. 

“Just came to see what the buzz is about.” He said while looking you up and down. Your mink fur shawl sat low on your chest and Thomas hoped it incidentally fell to the floor. 

“Well, you’ve came and seen. Have a good night, Mr. Shelby.” You dismissed him. You watched him stand there for a moment and then walk towards you. He lifted your chin and caressed your cheek lovingly.

“I’ll have you, and that’s the end of it. See you tomorrow.” He said. 

——

Hearing a knock at the door, you opened it believing it was your car service. You met the somber gaze of one of Thomas’ goons. He took your suitcases from your hands and gently led you to the 1927 Bentley out front. He politely opened the door for you and guided you inside. You stared at Thomas with hatred. He smiled warmly and moved your hair from your face. 

“No way to greet your beloved, eh?” He said.

“You are no beloved of mine.” You scorned.

“I will be in time.” He retorted as the car drove away.

You spent the long drive ignoring Thomas as he took you in. He had seen you many times on stage, but you were captivating up close. He had no qualms about taking you as Lizzie was long gone. What better way to alleviate a man’s loneliness than to spend time in a beautiful woman’s bosom? 

Arriving at Shelby Manor, you were taken aback by the size of his home. An MP’s salary in addition to gang activity must pay well. You were greeted by friendly waitstaff and Thomas’ dog, Cyril. Thomas thanked everyone and told them to leave you two alone. 

“Want a drink?” You asked while walking to the unnecessarily fancy liquor cabinet, feigning cordiality.

“I don’t drink anymore, but I appreciate the offer.” He said, admiring you from behind. Pouring yourself a glass of whiskey, you sat on the plush sofa. You sighed and stared at him intently.

“I’ll stay for the night if you pay me. We can negotiate starting with £1,000.” You explained. 

“You’re staying for as long as I want.” He attested.

“Who do you think I am? Some harlot to keep you busy since your wife left you?” You questioned.

“I would’ve taken you over the vanity in your dressing room If that’s the case.” He said, adjusting his glasses. You couldn’t deny how attractive he was but you had to hold out to rile him up. You simply rolled your eyes and finished your glass in one go. 

“Let’s head upstairs then.” You said, standing up. Thomas scooped you and carried you upstairs into the master bedroom. Your heart sped up at the feeling of his hands holding you securely. Laying you on the bed, he stared down at you as he removed his suit jacket. His gorgeous eyes were illuminated by the faint candlelight. You noticed the gun in his holster, but you wanted to distract him from it. You beckoned him to you with your index finger. He crawled on top of you and kissed you delicately. Taking a handful of his hair, you snatched the gun and held it to the side of his head. You pulled the trigger. 

The revolver made clicking noises as you grew frantic. You wondered why his brains weren’t staining your silk blouse. Thomas laughed sweetly and took the gun from you. 

“It’s not loaded, love. See that?” He said softly, flicking out the empty cylinder. He was eerily calm.

“Thomas, I-“ You started, fearing what could happen. 

“Shh. You think you’re the first woman who wanted me dead?” He hushed you. You two stared into each other’s eyes for a moment. Suddenly, you kissed and rutted against him. He responded by shoving his hands underneath your blouse. A faint whimper emitted from you from his intensity. 

“Need some discipline, yeah?” Thomas whispered against your lips.

“Not at all.” You fired back. 

He snatched you up once more and put you over his knee. He slid your skirt up to reveal black lace panties with a tiny silk bow at the waistline. You felt him massage the supple flesh of your ass. You pushed back against his hand to antagonize him.

“Little bunny…” He purred. A series of harsh smacks landed on you as silent tears fell from your eyes. Arousal began to pool in between your legs. An inflamed imprint was left on your cheek. Thomas slipped his hand between your thighs and brushed his fingertips against your clothed cunt. Rubbing small circles, another faint whimper came from you. Then, he pulled aside your underwear and plunged two fingers inside of you. The silver band on his ring finger brushed against your clit as he pumped them slowly. 

“Christ…” You moaned. He curled his fingers slightly making an indecorous noise leave your mouth. You wondered how he knew your body so well. 

“Hush now.” He said, pumping his fingers faster. He grew hard at the squelching noises from your arousal. You were on the verge of climaxing before he removed his fingers and sat you up. 

“What the fuck, Thomas?” You said annoyed. 

“Stand in front of the window.” He ordered. You rolled your eyes and followed his directions. You watched him undress in the reflection in the glass. His body was amazing for a man in his mid 40s. You hurriedly shed the rest of your undergarments before he turned around. Walking to you, he pressed you uncomfortably against the glass. Despite being a burlesque dancer, you were deathly afraid of being seen by his colleagues or waitstaff. 

“Stay just like this, yeah?” He said, voice slightly beyond a whisper. He kissed your shoulder gently before pressing his tip against your folds. Both of you sighed in delight when he bottomed out. He stilled for a moment to compose himself. You rutted against him out of impatience. Thrusting deeply, he buried his face in your neck. Your mewls progressed to screams of delectation. Restrained groans occasionally left Thomas’ throat as he held you tightly and nipped your ear. Thomas snaked his hand between your legs once more and rubbed your clit vigorously. His loneliness became an afterthought as he finished you off. 

[dramaticallytotal]

TDWT Headcanons: PT. 6

Part 1 Last Part

• Lindsay definitely is bringing some of her Admiral Lindsay Her Hotness attitude back for this season, just not as intense. She liked being respected for once, and she liked being relied on. So this season, she vowed she would find the in-between for herself.

• This season, she is even wearing a navy blue jacket that looks kind of like her admiral jacket along with a thick navy blue ribbon headband to replace her usual blue bandana.

• Heather actually has friends this season! Because as much as I love her Queen Bee, lone wolf thing, I think she deserves to make some friends. Leshawna is, of course, one. Harold is surprisingly another. And Noah.

• Leshawna and her have gotten closer, though there are still moments when they argue with each other. Harold respects her game, and they both relate to each other about their siblings, not liking them. It's sad, but it's nice to have someone relate to. Noah was a surprise for her, but it was a little after Action that he reached out and gave her his sister Nila's contact info since she knew what it was like to go from super long hair to short very abruptly. Plus, Nila had tips for growing her hair! Plus, plus, the two like to talk shit about other people with each other.

• It's why Heather hates Alejandro so much. Like, yeah, they need to try and pretend to have crushes on each other, but it's hard to do that when he got Harold to vote himself out. When he got Leshawana and her to fight worse than they ever have before, and when she could tell Noah had a crush on him and the guy flirted with him only to go and flirt with her. It created a lot of space between her and her favorite snark.

• No one is supposed to know about their separate deals with Chris to make the show more interesting, but some people have guessed who has a deal and who doesn't. Though Noah has guessed most of the deals, he doesn't know that Aleheather is scripted.

• Yes, Lindsay and Beth got attested in Paris, but not for what Celebrity Manhunt reported. She never touched the Mona Lisa, but Beth did trip over the ropes, and the security guard was yelling and Beth looked so scared, so Lindsay reacted, and by reacting, I mean , she slapped the security guard.

• Beth's mom, Clara, did bail them out because Lindsay's family were on their own vacations, and she couldn't get a hold of them. When they did hear what happened they of course, paid her back, but Lindsay felt like it's her responsibility to do it, so she agreed to pretend to forget what Tyler looks like and his name. It's to get the money to pay Clara back.

• Courtney, Noah, DJ, and Sierra are all published authors.

• Courtney writes guides on how to make study guides and other self-help type books. Noah writes video game guidebooks as well as coding books. He's actually paid to make the video game books. He's also a beta tester, but no one knows that. DJ writes cookbooks with his Momma. Sierra wrote, of course, books on Total Drama. Basically, guides for those just starting to watch. Like the who's who, the challenges, the teams, secret little Easter eggs she found.

• If Noah gets hurt during an episode, Chris makes sure to call his family and tell them how he's doing. He is friends with Noah's parents, so he feels like it's his duty to let them know how their kid is. (He definitely doesn't count himself in that 'their' no siree.)

• Alejandro is definitely trying his best to make the showmance happen, but every time he goes to flirt and make it seem like he and Heather have something going on, he gets distracted by Noah. Like the way he only wears his glasses when he's sure the cameras are off even though he looks positively adorable in them. Or the way he pouts when something in his book displeased him. Oh! Or the small smiles he gives Alejandro when he strikes up a conversation with the bookworm about his thoughts on books he himself has read.

• At some point, he does want to tell Noah that the showmance between him and Heather is just that, a showmance, but then London happened, and Noah was voted off, and maybe Alejandro feels guilty for letting his emotions take over seeing as Noah was actually a strong competitor.

• He also overheard Chris and Chef talking about how Noah had planned on getting voted out and how the kid did great! "I mean, he saw an opportunity and took it, Chef!"

• That's when he realizes that Noah had planned to get out and used him to do it. Now, normally, that would have probably pissed him off, but nope. It basically makes him swoon. He's whipped.

• Owen does actually hold a grudge against Alejandro for voting off his little buddy. (He doesn't know Noah was planning on it). Noah had told Owen that Alejandro didn't like being called Al before he left, and Owen knows his friend didn't tell him so Owen could mess with the guy. His little buddy told him and asked him to go easy with the nickname since he didn't want Owen to become a target. Target be damned! Owen made it his personal mission to call Alejandro, Al, as much as possible.

• Chris and Chef pseudo adopted Noah together, but Chef definitely pseudo adopted Izzy in his head.

• Izzy has shown Cody her hiding place she made in the vents for when he needs space. Look, she may be crazy but she draws the line at stalking/stalkers. (I know in her biography it says she's stalked boys, but I have elected to throw that out of my canon)

• Yes, Noah planned to get thrown off, but when he realized the producers/network wanted him to basically be a miracle worker after he was done with Aftermath, he was like, "What if...no? UwU" and wanted them to suffer, so he won his way back onto the show. Oh, he'll come back to his job after the show, but he expects a big raise.

• Trent feels bad about Noah being voted off because he finally realized that someone else was suspicious of Alejandro, but Noah told him to vote for him so he wouldn't be made a target. He made a real convincing argument, but Trent still felt bad.

• Trent is trying to lay low, but he does warn Gwen about his suspicions, but everything gets crazy with the cheating plot. Which pisses Trent off because he knows there is no way Gwen would cheat on anyone given what happened with her mom.

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