#but it has to be rhythmic music in other languages

[toiletpotato]

there's some magic in the Gully Boy soundtrack because I was listening to it for the first time and oh my shining stars I was able to crank out the latter half of an 1800 word essay due tonight

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Try Morse Core. Women Love Morse Code.

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[please1mistress]

WARNING Flashing IMAGE and HYPNOTIC COVERT language

Inductions

Hypnosis, a fascinating and complex phenomenon, has captivated human interest for centuries. It's a state of focused attention, heightened suggestibility, and vivid fantasies. People often think of hypnosis as a deep sleep or unconsciousness, but in reality, it's more about a trance-like state where the individual is actually in heightened awareness of suggestion. Often used for therapeutic purposes, hypnosis can aid in various issues such as stress, anxiety, pain management, and certain habits like smoking. However, it's not a magical cure-all; its effectiveness varies from person to person.

Hypnosis can also be a form of entertainment, where stage hypnotists perform shows that demonstrate the power of suggestion. Despite its many applications, hypnosis remains a subject of debate among scientists and psychologists. Some view it as a powerful tool for mental health, while others caution against its potential to create false memories or its use in recovering memories, which is a controversial area within the field. It's important to approach hypnosis with a critical mind and understand that it's a complex interplay of psychological and physiological factors. If you're considering hypnotherapy, it's crucial to seek out a qualified and certified professional to ensure a safe and beneficial experience, someone like me.

You find yourself reading these words and as you read they seem to take on a life of their own, almost like magic. Your mind slows as you red larger more complex words and you may feel a soft tingle of arousal as you FOCUS on my words and feel dreamy. It's quite fascinating how the complexity of words can influence our cognitive processes. When we encounter larger, more intricate words, our brains need to work harder to decode the meaning, which can sometimes slow down your reading speed. This isn't necessarily a bad thing; it allows for deeper processing and understanding of the messages I am pushing softly into your mind. It's easy to relax and follow the words you read. It's easy to feel dreamy as your mind accepts that it wants to drop deeper.

Dropping deeper feels good, as you touch yourself and keep reading you can let go of any inhibitions or control. it's so easy to sink into a light trance, after all entering a light trance can be a simple, yet profound experience. It's a state where the conscious mind takes a step back, allowing the subconscious to surface and express itself more freely. This can happen during various activities that engage the mind in a repetitive, rhythmic manner, such as listening to music, meditating, or even during a long drive. In this state, people often find their thoughts flowing more smoothly, their creativity heightened, and their stress levels reduced. It's a moment of introspection and connection with the inner self that can provide clarity and insight. While in a light trance, the mind filters information differently, prioritizing internal dialogue and sensation, which can lead to a deeper understanding of one's thoughts and feelings. It's a natural and accessible state that can offer a respite from the hustle and bustle of daily life, and a gateway to greater self-awareness.

You are not even aware of how deeply into the trance you are, your fingers stroking your arousal for me as you read and feel a dreamy warmth spreading from your fingers into your whole body. Aware but unaware that you could stop at anytime, but you don't want that, you want to keep reading and sinking deeper and deeper as you feel arousal growing more for me. It just feels so good to give in, the very act of giving, whether it's time, resources, or kindness, has a profound impact on your well-being. It transcends the material value of what is given and touches the very essence of human connection. When you give, you're not just passing on a physical item or a piece of advice; you're sharing a part of yourselves, creating a bond that reflects your shared humanity. This act of generosity can be deeply satisfying, as it often brings joy and relief to others, which in turn enriches your own life. It's a beautiful cycle of positivity that reinforces the best parts of being a good submissive.

Giving has been shown to activate regions in our brain associated with pleasure, social connection, and trust, creating a warm glow effect. It's no wonder that the phrase "it's better to give than to receive" has resonated through the ages. This isn't just a moral suggestion; it's backed by science. Studies have found that giving to others can increase our happiness more than spending money on ourselves. This might be because when we give, we feel a sense of purpose and meaning, knowing that we've made a positive impact on someone else's life.

Moreover, the act of giving doesn't have to be grandiose to be effective. Small acts of kindness can ripple outwards and have unforeseen positive consequences. Just as a pebble creates waves when thrown into a pond, a simple gesture of generosity can spread far and wide. It's the intention behind the act that matters most, the recognition that even the smallest offering can make a significant difference.

In a world that often emphasizes individual achievement and accumulation of wealth, it's important to remember the value of generosity. It's a reminder that our interconnectedness is a source of strength, not weakness. By giving, we acknowledge that we are part of a larger community, one that thrives when its members support each other. It's a powerful acknowledgment that we are not alone in our journey through life, and that by helping others, we are also helping ourselves.

So, when we say it feels good to give in, it's not just about the act of giving up or surrendering; it's about embracing the joy of generosity. It's a celebration of the human spirit and its capacity for compassion and empathy. Giving is an affirmation that, despite the challenges we face, there is goodness in the world, and we have the power to contribute to it, one act of kindness at a time. It's a simple truth that enriches our lives and the lives of those around us, creating a legacy of goodwill that can endure beyond our own existence. Indeed, to give is to receive a gift of immeasurable value—the happiness and satisfaction that come from knowing we've played a part in making the world a little brighter.

You want to give in more deeply, message me and tell me how much you need deeper brainwashing NOW!

[mclacedes]

The Idea Of You (LN4)

1. The Idea of Kissing

summary: in which lando and you have been friends for over 5 years and developed feelings for each other, but refuse to admit it until his family's new year's party.

autor's note: I present to you my first story on tumblr :')!! I'm so happy that this is finally becoming a reality, that I could post all the chapters at once... maybe chapters every other day would be a good start.

I would like to remind you that English is not my first language, so FEEL FREE to correct me 🤍

WARNINGS: bits of fluff every here and there, angst, a little smut, mention of anxiety

wc: 5.5k words

“i'd rather take that risk than keep pretending”

next chapter: The Idea of Worthiness

the norris party had been a great success, with laughter and music still echoing in the kitchen, where you and lando worked side by side to clean up the remnants of the celebration. the cozy mess of half-eaten snacks and empty drink bottles created an intimate atmosphere, a testament to the night’s joy and the warmth of being with friends.

since you two became friends in 2018, it has become the most normal thing in the world for you to spend a few days at his family's house when he gets time to come home; so when your families met at Silverstone 2019, it was almost like you were one big family, only one thing, part of the same thing. as usual, his mother invited you to their New Year's party.

the party—like anything involving the Norris name—was a blast and, of course, something to remember. it was the best possible way to welcome 2024 with open arms after the last disastrous years.

now, confetti, shiny paper, and glitter were scattered across the floor of the house, remnants of a night well-spent. you and Lando willingly took your time cleaning up, both of you slipping easily into the comfortable rhythm of a shared task. Lando rinsed the cutlery, while you swept the floor.

as you moved around the room, your eyes were drawn to him—his back, broad and muscular beneath the thin fabric of his white dress shirt, which clung just enough to reveal the silhouette of his strength.

as you swept the floor, you couldn’t help but let your gaze linger a little longer on Lando’s silhouette as he washed the dishes. the quiet between you felt more yours than the remnants of the party scattered around the room. with the last guests gone, the laughter and music faded into a soft hum, leaving just the rhythmic clinking of dishes. you found the moment oddly intimate, a shared space where everything else faded away.

“do you remember the first New Year’s party you came to?” Lando’s voice broke the silence, pulling you from your thoughts. he turned slightly, a teasing grin spreading across his face. “i think it was 2019. you nearly dropped your drink when my dad tried to get everyone to sing ‘Auld Lang Syne.’”

you laughed, the memory making you feel warm inside. “how could i have forgotten? your dad was so into it, and i was just standing there, completely clueless.”

“it felt just like a movie scene,” he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “and i still think you owe me a proper midnight kiss for that.”

your heart skipped a beat at his words. it was a lighthearted joke, but it hit closer to home than you expected.

you've had this major crush on him since 2019, and moments like these only made it harder to ignore. every lingering glance, every shared laugh, and the warmth of his presence felt charged with something unspoken, something you both danced around but never fully acknowledged. as you swept the floor, the weight of your feelings settled in the silence, an undercurrent that hummed softly between you. it was a reminder of all those stolen moments and quiet confessions, a connection that felt both thrilling and terrifying.

you shook that feeling off.

“god, you'll never let that go, will you?” the playful shock was palpable in your tone as you stopped sweeping the floor. a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips as you watched lando position himself to face you, on the other side of the kitchen island. he rested his body against the sink, his weight supported on his elbows.

“how could i? you pulled me in for a kiss but didn't move!” he rolls his eyes.

the memory hits you, sending a shiver down your spine. you remember just how physically close you two were there and what led you to do that… the overwhelming want of his lips in yours, the way he looked just as pretty as tonight, how he was a gentleman to you all night long.

“i was a bit drunk,” the lie rolls off your tongue with a little too much ease.

lando moves around the island and stop in front of you.

“are you drunk right now, love?” his voice dropped almost an octave, reverberating low and husky. his voice like that had a special effect on you, something you would never understand.

“not much, you know i don't like drinking” you shrug.

“then why does it look like you still wanna kiss me, beautiful?” his eyes twinkling with mischief, the voice drunk on his characteristic playful confidence and that smile… it made your heart perform various somersaults in sequence, the butterflies on your stomach wanted to be freed. he was driving you wild. and he knew it. “did you kiss someone tonight?”

“why does that even matter?” you rolled your eyes and turned your back to him.

he followed. his body now stands fewer meters from you. you could feel his presence, hanging imposingly around the kitchen.

“because i wanna know if i’ll be the first to do so this year, baby,” your whole body froze by the saying.

every limb petrified, every cell dead, every neuron fried. you stood right there were you where, unable to process the weight of his words.

you took a moment to gather your thoughts, feeling the weight of his gaze on you. the warmth of his presence enveloped you, making it hard to think straight. somehow, you managed to turn around.

“i mean… you know what they say—no kiss, no bliss”

“no one says that, lan,” you chuckle at the made-up saying.

“well... then we do,” he states.

“we?” you echo, hesitantly. “what do you mean, we?”

“us, love. you and me,” he turns around and smile.

you felt the heat creeping up your cheeks at his words, a mix of embarrassment and excitement swirling within you. “so, what? i should kiss you because you coined a catchy phrase?”

lando stepped closer, a playful glint in his eye. “well, it sounds pretty convincing to me. plus, it’s new year’s! a fresh start, right? a perfect time to mess around and have some fun, don't you think?”

your heart sunk to your stomach.

for lando, it was a joke, something that'd entertain him.

the realization that he would never look at you how you looked at him hit you right in your stomach—the weight of his words hitting harder than expected.

“i… i can’t handle this right now,” you stammered, the lump in your throat making it hard to breathe. “i need a minute.” without waiting for a response, you dashed out of the kitchen, desperate to escape and keep your tears at bay.

you bolted into the guest room that had become a second home over the years, flinging yourself onto the bed and burying your face in the soft pillows.

the weight of his words clung to you, turning what had felt like playful banter into something more painful. hot tears slipped down your cheeks, soaking into the fabric of the pillow as you tried to quiet your racing heart.

after a few minutes, soft knock interrupted your spiraling thoughts, and before you could muster a response, lando stepped in. his expression shifted from playful to serious, concern etched across his features as he took in your trembling form and the telltale signs of tears. his heart sank, breaking at the sight of you so upset.

“y/n,” he said gently, closing the door behind him. “can we have a word?”

you turned away, not wanting him to see the tears brimming in your eyes. “go away” you mumbled, your voice muffled by the pillow.

“i’m not going anywhere, y/n,” he voiced. “please, talk to me.”

he took a step closer until he finally sat on the bed in which you laid face down. his presence filled the small room with a warmth that both comforted and terrified you. “i didn’t mean to upset you. i thought it would be funny.”

you felt the bed shift under his weight, and the gentle creak of the mattress reminded you of how close he was. you took a shaky breath, still not ready to face him; yet you got up, walking to the other side of the bed so you could see him from the front.

“it’s not just that,” you said, your words barely escaping your lips. “you don’t understand how… complicated and hurtful this is for me.”

“complicated? hurtful?” he echoed, confusion lacing his tone. “y/n, we’ve been friends for years. what’s complicated about this?”

your heart pounded in your chest as you tried to gather all the courage in the world to tell him how you've felt for so long.

“you don’t get it, lan,” you chuckled softly in disbelief. “how come you don't see i've had feelings for you for a long time now? every time you joke around, it just… it makes everything harder. it hurts me, lan. so much. i think you won't ever see me like that because i mean… the people you've went out with, jesus, they're goddesses and me? i'm… fuck, lan!”

you turned your back to lando, staring at the wall and letting tears run down your cheeks.

lando’s heart dropped as soon as he heard the soft, muffled sobs escaping your lips. panic surged through him, and he sprang up from the bed, his pulse racing.

“hey, hey,” he breathed, urgency lacing his tone. his hands reached out instinctively to cup your face, but he hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to bridge the distance between your pain and his desire to comfort you. when he finally touched you, his soft hands were breaking out in cold sweat, yet his familiar touch brought you a sense of solace. his grip was gentle but firm, grounding you in that moment. “please don’t cry, baby.”

“look at me,” he searched your eyes, desperation in his voice. “i hate seeing you like this. you mean too much to me. way more than you know.”

“lando, i can't—” he cut you off.

“i need you to hear me, y/n. you are the most beautiful girl i have ever seen, and it breaks my heart to see you like this and because, fuck, you are the most perfect person. it pisses me off to think that you don't see yourself the way i do. god, i love you. i think it's amazing how you take your time to look after your friends and relatives, it's adorable how good you are with children, you are so effortlessly funny and intelligent. how come you don't see it?”

his words hung in the air, heavy with meaning and sincerity. you felt the warmth of his hands on your cheeks, the way he looked at you as if you were the only person in the world. slowly, the wall you had built around your heart began to crumble under the weight of his confession.

“you’re not just my friend, y/n,” he continued, his voice softening. “you’ve always been more to me. and every time i joked, it was just me trying to hide how much i cared. i didn’t want to ruin what we had, but here we are.”

he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin. “i’m tired of pretending. i want you to be mine, for real. please let me in. let me show you how much you mean to me.”

your heart raced as his gaze bore into yours, searching for understanding, for a glimpse of hope. the vulnerability in his eyes made you feel seen in a way you never had before. you were at a crossroads, and for the first time, you saw the possibility of something beautiful blooming from the ashes of your uncertainty.

you felt a whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you, taken aback by the depth of his words. your mind raced, struggling to process the reality of what he was saying. “lando, this… this is a lot to take in,” you managed to whisper, your heart pounding in your chest.

he took a small step closer, his hands still cradling your face as he searched your eyes for any flicker of reciprocation. “i know it is. but i’ve been holding back for so long, scared of losing you if things didn’t work out. but the truth is, i can’t imagine my life without you. i don’t want to hide how i feel anymore.”

the vulnerability in his voice made your heart ache. “you really mean that?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly. the weight of your feelings, long kept hidden, began to surface, intertwining with his confession.

“absolutely,” he said earnestly. “you’re the one who makes me laugh when i’m down, the person i want to share my victories with. i’ve always felt a connection with you, something deeper than just friendship. and i’ve been too afraid to say anything because i didn’t want to ruin what we have.”

you took a shaky breath, the reality of his love washing over you like a wave. “but what if things change? what if it ruins our friendship?”

“i’d rather take that risk than keep pretending,” he replied, his voice steady and reassuring. “you’re worth it. and if it doesn’t work out, at least we’ll know we tried. but i truly believe we can be more than friends. i want to explore this with you.”

his honesty wrapped around you, pulling you closer, and for the first time, you felt the possibility of a future filled with hope rather than fear. you stared into his eyes, seeing not just the boy you had known for years but the man who could potentially hold your heart.

“i just… i’ve had feelings for you for so long, lan,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. “i was terrified you’d never see me that way.”

“and now?” he asked, leaning in closer, his gaze unwavering.

“now,” you said, feeling the walls you’d built around your heart begin to dissolve, “i want to see where this goes. if you’re really sure about us.”

“more than sure,” he promised, his thumb gently brushing away a tear that had slipped down your cheek. “i’m all in, y/n.”

in that moment, the air between you crackled with possibility, and you knew, no matter what came next, you were ready to take that leap together.

“what do you want, lando?” you finally asked, vulnerability spilling over the edges of your bravado.

“i want to kiss you, for real this time,” he replied simply, his tone low and sincere. “but more than that... i want you, y/n”

and just like that, the tension shifted. the room felt smaller as he leaned in, the gravity of the moment drawing you closer.

as you leaned in, the world outside faded into nothingness, leaving just the two of you, a shared breath before the leap.

his defined lips brushed against yours, soft and tentative, igniting a spark inside you. you could taste the remnants of champagne on his breath, a sweet reminder of the night you two shared. the kiss deepened.

lando grabbed your waist and staggered back until he sat on the bed, without breaking your kiss. with his legs open, you remained between them. your hands played with norris' neck and shoulder as he explored your waist, hips, tailbone until they landed on your ass, going down to his thighs, where he gripped tighter.

the soft moan that left your mouth made him smile and squeeze tighter, which brought you closer to him. almost like instinct, you moved to sit on his lap.

it felt like you two were trying to make up for all the lost time, and the clock didn't move; the party was a distant memory. the only thing that mattered was the feeling of his hands on you and the growing bulge beneath you.

lando’s fingers tangled in your hair, pulling you closer as his lips moved against yours with a fervent need that sent shivers down your spine. you could feel the tension from earlier melting away, replaced by a heat that enveloped you both. each kiss felt like a promise, a declaration of everything you had both been too afraid to say until now.

his hands moves to the back of your dress, unzipping it carefully. the brush of his fingers on your bare skin ignited a spark within you, sending shivers down your spine as his hands explored your body with a reverent slowness. he caressed your sides, fingers brushing against the fabric of your sparkly Prada dress, teasing and tracing the curves he had only imagined before.

Lando quickly got rid of your expensive dress, leaving her breasts exposed for you to do whatever he wanted with the pair.

he felt his mouth water as he looked at your breasts, feeling even more horny just imagining you bouncing on top of him and your breasts swaying with each thrust. oh, god, here was so much he wanted to try with you and the mere thought made his cock even more painfully hard.

“so beautiful…” he silently praised, leaning in to kiss the top of your tits. “so hot… so mine”

“i’m yours, yeah?” you asked, trying not to sound too desperate and needy—as much as you were too desperate and needy.

“oh, yeah, you're mine,” he told you before grabbing one of your breasts, transmitting a wave of pleasure that made you throw your head back leaving your mouth agape.

“oh, lando,” slipped out before you could stop it, leaving you feeling lighter yet more vulnerable than ever.

“baby… you can't be loud, my love; my parents are here, remember?” he said with a teasing smile, the seriousness of his words sending a rush of excitement through you. “if you moan, i stop, okay?” he added, his voice a mix of playfulness and dominance.

you nodded, a thrill of anticipation coursing through you. lando’s fingers worked magic as they moved on your sides and titties, sending shockwaves through you, your body responding eagerly to his every movement.

as you settled more comfortably on his lap, the heat radiating from his body made your skin flush. you pressed yourself against him, deepening the kiss as you felt him respond, his hands roaming down your sides, exploring every inch of you with a growing urgency.

involuntarily, your hips moved against his, eliciting a slight groan from him.

“ah god, you’re perfect,” he murmured against your lips, his breath hot and needy, and it sent a rush of warmth through you. you felt like you were losing yourself in him, every touch igniting a fire that left you breathless.

a thought struck you—what would happen now.

“lando, wait, wait…” you whispered, breaking the kiss just enough to speak—or rather, whisper. the intensity in his eyes only fueled your desire. “do you have a condom?”

“uh… no, fuck…” he shut his eyes when realizing the implications of not having a condom with him.

“oh…” you said, leaving his lap to lay on the bed.

you felt a mix of disappointment and frustration, knowing that this moment could slip away before it even truly began. the air between you felt heavy with unfulfilled tension, and you couldn’t help but wonder how you had arrived at this precipice, so close yet so far.

“but i can't leave you wanting,” lando said, his voice laced with sincerity.

“but what about you?” you pointed to his bulge, the undeniable evidence of his arousal pressing against his jeans.

“i’ll be fine, love. i wanna take care of you.” he turned to look at you, his eyes searching for reassurance.

“are you sure?” you searched his gaze for any hint of doubt, but all you found was the same want reflected back at you.

“i’ve never been this sure before,” he replied, his voice low and thick with desire. “i need you, love,” he admitted between leaving kisses across your shoulders and the crook of your neck.

“you’re so… fuck, y/n,” he breathed, his gaze burning into every part of your body until it finally landed in your white lace panties, soaked by your pussy juices. “ah, shit… you're so ready f’me, aren't ya?”

you felt yourself begin to spiral by the way he said it, lost in the pleasure he was giving you, the warmth of his skin against yours. you bit your lip, trying not to scream his name, but the more time moved, the harder it got.

the softness of the sheets contrasted with the heat radiating between your bodies when lando hovered above you, his eyes darkened with desire, searching yours for reassurance. you nodded slightly, and that was all the encouragement he needed.

“just breathe, okay?” he murmured, his voice husky as he pressed another lingering kiss to your lips, trailing down to your neck, where he placed soft bites and gentle kisses that made you gasp.

“lando,” you breathed. you craved more, but the vulnerability of the moment was almost overwhelming.

“i know, my love, i know, shh” he whispered back, his lips brushing against your collarbone. “just let me take care of you, m’kay? i’mma make you feel so good, love.”

with that, he shifted lower, trailing kisses down your body, each one igniting the fire within you further. he reached the hem of your dress, his fingers dancing lightly along the shimmering fabric before hesitating for just a moment.

“may i?” he asked, looking up at you with that boyish charm and sincerity you adored.

his hands were warm as they slid over your waist, fingertips teasingly grazing the delicate material before slipping his hand beneath it. he reveled in the feel of your skin, the warmth radiating from your body contrasting with the chill of the fabric.

lando’s fingers slid beneath the lace of your panties, the fabric damp and clinging to you, sending electric sparks through your body. he took his time, savoring every moment as he explored you with the gentleness of a lover and the urgency of a man who craved you deeply.

“so perfect,” he murmured, more to himself, his voice thick with desire. his eyes locked onto yours as he slowly peeled away the fabric, exposing you completely. the heat in his gaze made you feel both vulnerable and empowered, igniting a fire deep within.

as his fingers danced over your most sensitive spots, your breath hitched in your throat. every stroke was deliberate, coaxing whimpers and gasps from you. you arched your back, instinctively seeking more, your body craving his touch.

“ah, god, y/n,” he breathed, his fingers moving in a rhythm that felt intoxicating. “no moaning, remember?” he added another finger just to watch squirm in pleasure.

“lando, please…” you gasped, the sensation overwhelming you. it was a heady mix of pleasure and anticipation, and you could feel the tension building, coiling tightly within you. “please…”

“do you want me to stop, y/n?” he dared.

“no…” your eyes fluttered shut as you cried out like a plea.

“then no sounds, alright?” you nodded, battling the overwhelming sensations as his fingers moved with expert precision. each stroke felt electrifying, and your body instinctively pushed against him, craving more.

you panted, feeling yourself unravel with each deliberate stroke. the urge to moan was becoming impossible to resist, especially as his fingers worked their magic, sending shockwaves through you.

his mouth trailed lower, and you could feel the heat radiating off him as he peppered kisses down your thighs, teasingly close to where you needed him most. you could hardly contain the whimpers that escaped your lips as he finally reached his destination.

with every kiss, every gentle touch, he ignited a fire within you that felt both exhilarating and frightening.

he took his time, his movements deliberate and intoxicating as he kissed your thighs, his breath sending delicious shivers through you.

“lando, please,” you breathed, the urgency in your voice undeniable.

he murmured, sending another wave of warmth coursing through you. he kissed you softly through the fabric, his breath hot and teasing, sending you spiraling closer to the edge.

you felt a rush of pleasure as he slowly moved aside the fabric, his mouth hovering just above you, eyes locked on yours. it was an unspoken promise, one that sent your heart racing. his gaze held yours, a silent question hanging in the air.

“you okay?” he asked softly, his voice thick with anticipation.

“yes, yes” you breathed, the word escaping your lips as a plea and a promise.

with that, he took you into his mouth, drawing you in with a gentle intensity that made you arch against the mattress. every movement was careful yet filled with a desperate need, and you lost yourself completely in the rhythm he created.

what lando’s tongue did on your pussy was almost obscene, the way he explored every sensitive inch of you with a fervor that sent jolts of pleasure racing through your body. his movements were both calculated and wild, as if he couldn’t get enough of the taste of you, the way your body responded to his every touch.

with each flick and swirl, you felt yourself unraveling, the tension inside you coiling tighter as he expertly guided you toward ecstasy. you couldn’t hold back the moans that escaped your lips, the sounds echoing off the walls of the room, mingling with the racing heartbeat that pulsed in your ears.

“lan,” you gasped, trying to catch your breath as your fingers tangled in his curls, urging him on. you could feel him smirking against you, the vibration of his laughter sending delicious shivers down your spine. he loved the effect he had on you, and it fueled his desire to give you everything you craved.

the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you, entwined in a dance of passion and intimacy. each wave of pleasure that crashed over you was met with a new height of exhilaration, leaving you gasping for more. lando's hands found your hips, grounding you as you surrendered completely to the sensations flooding your senses.

you could feel the warmth building inside you, a tight coil of pleasure that threatened to unravel at any moment.

“lando, i’m—” you gasped, your voice breaking as he increased his pace, his determination making your heart race.

“relax and let go for me, love,” he urged, his voice muffled against your skin. the way he said it felt like a gentle command, coaxing you to give into momentary bliss.

“you’re doing so well f’me, baby,” his praise was enough make you go over the edge, you couldn’t stand another second of staying quiet.

the soft, needy sounds that slipped from your lips ignited something primal within him, making lando moan against your pussy. the vibrations sent shockwaves through you, amplifying your pleasure and pulling you deeper into ecstasy.

“there you go,” he chuckled, his breath warm against your sensitive skin. “let it out. lemme hear you, love.” his fingers continued their sweet assault, each movement perfectly tailored to your body’s response, driving you wild.

“fuck, i’m… shit,” you gasped, gripping the sheets, struggling to articulate your need, but the sensations were too overwhelming.

you pressed him against you, craving more of that intoxicating connection.

“you’re so beautiful when you’re lost like this,” he whispered, looking up at you with a wicked grin. “don’t hold back; i wanna hear all those lovely sounds you make.”

the encouragement only fueled your desire, and the combination of his words and the way he touched you pushed you to the edge again. your moans became louder, spilling out despite your efforts to contain them, and each sound only seemed to spur him on.

“that’s it, baby,” he encouraged, his voice thick with lust. “let it all out for me. i want to feel every inch of you.”

you arched your back, the pleasure building higher and higher, each stroke of his fingers a delicious tease that had you begging for release. “lando, please, i can’t—”

“yes, you can. just let go,” he urged, his lips brushing against your thigh as he continued to work his magic, sending you spiraling further into pleasure.

the moment stretched on, each second a mix of bliss and sweet torture, and as you felt yourself teetering on the brink, you knew you were ready to surrender completely. “shit, i’m so close…” you breathed, unable to hold back any longer.

“that’s it, love. let it happen,” he coaxed, his fingers quickening as he pushed you over the edge, the pleasure crashing over you like a tidal wave, leaving you gasping and trembling beneath him.

with one final stroke, the tension shattered, and waves of pleasure washed over you, leaving you breathless and gasping for air. you didn't fight the instinct to cry out as you surrendered to the bliss. for a second you forgot about lando’s parents and family, the world around you had faded away.

after the waves of ecstasy receded, you lay together in a blissful haze, the warmth of his body still wrapped around you, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on your skin. the soft sounds of the party outside faded into the background, but you knew that this moment, right here, was all that mattered.

your body relaxed in a way that you didn't even care about what lando's parents would think about you screaming their son's name in the very first day of 2024. that moment was yours and no one would take that away from you.

“happy new year's, y/n,” he muttered against your hair.

“happy new year's, norris.”

the next morning, january 1st, 2024, you woke up alone. the bed felt strangely empty without lando beside you, a stark contrast to the warmth and intimacy of the night before. a nagging worry settled in your stomach as you pushed the covers aside and got up, glancing around the quiet room. after a moment’s hesitation, you made your way downstairs, curiosity guiding you but anxiety nipping at your heels.

in the now-clean kitchen, you found cisca, lando's mother, bustling around as she cooked breakfast. her presence was comforting, a reminder of the welcoming home you had come to cherish, but it did little to ease the tightness in your chest.

“good morning, y/n,” she greeted, glancing up with a warm smile. “did you sleep well?”

“yeah, just… where's lando?” you asked, the hint of worry creeping into your voice betraying your calm facade.

“he said he needed to think; he left about an hour ago,” she replied, stirring a pot on the stove.

“oh…” your heart sank, a mix of confusion and concern flooding your mind. why would he leave without saying anything? had you messed things up? the uncertainty twisted in your stomach, and you felt the warmth of last night slip away, replaced by the chill of doubt.

cisca seemed to sense your unease and turned to you, her expression softening. “look, y/n,” she began gently. “i know you two like each other, and i know… things happened last night. i just want to say that i am so supportive of you getting together. you do him so much good, dear.”

you felt your cheeks warm at her words, a mix of embarrassment and happiness washing over you. but the lingering thought nagged at you—that maybe lando regretted what happened last night, that perhaps he needed space because he was unsure about everything.

“thank you. it means a lot to hear that. lando and i have been close for a while, and last night... it just felt right,” you said, trying to convince yourself as much as her.

“wait,” she said, raising an eyebrow playfully, a teasing smile creeping onto her face. “so does that mean you’re actually together now?”

you paused, the weight of her question hanging in the air, amplifying the doubt already creeping into your mind. “i… well, we haven’t really talked about it like that yet, but... i guess? i don't know…”

her smile widened. “well, i’m glad to hear that anyway! he’s a wonderful boy, and you two deserve to be happy together.”

you nodded, but the uncertainty remained. what if lando was questioning everything? as you thought about him, your heart fluttered with the possibilities of what was to come, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something might have changed overnight. you needed to clear your head.

you excused yourself, feeling the weight of the morning's events pressing down on you. “i should go home and be with my relatives,” you said, trying to dismiss the anxious thoughts swirling in your mind.

as you stepped outside, the cool morning air hit you, and a wave of insecurity washed over you. what if lando regretted last night? you pulled out your phone and quickly typed a message to him:

“hey you, good morningg

you alright? didn’t see you leave.

text me when you can.”

you hesitated for a moment, staring at the screen, hoping he’d reply soon. with each passing second, the uncertainty gnawed at you, but you tried to shake it off and focus on the warmth of the memories from the night before.

[yuurei20]

Hi!

I was wondering what the book 5 bonuses were? I know they were originally in the JP server, but cut out of the EN server. Are you able to touch on this topic?

Thank you 💜

Hello hello! Thank you for this question!

Were maybe the Book 5 bonuses in question the “Clear Main Story: Book 5 with extra bonus" gifts? 👀 (Here is a YouTube video about this!)

These "extra bonus" gifts for clearing Book 5 were what EN players would have received in exchange for clearing all the challenges associated with the "Everybody Yaho!" rhythmic that was removed from the EN server, seen below!

As EN players did not have the rhythmic they could not earn the bonuses, so EN server instead provided the bonuses to players all at once at the conclusion of Book 5 as extra rewards ^^

(I hope I did not misunderstand the question 💦 my apologies if so!)

And it was not just the rhythmic! Neige's song plays in the background of that entire scene in the original game, replaced with common background music for EN server, and there is a scene of all the characters singing together at the end that was also removed.

Tumblr only allows for one video per post, so here is the Rhythmic and Missing scene together on YouTube!

Note:

It is a common theory that the rhythmic was removed due to copyright issues, but this rumor is unfounded: it has never been confirmed by Aniplex USA (or anyone), and it is always better to not repeat unofficial information as fact.

I have also seen rumors that it may be related to usage rights outlined in Neige's VAs contract, or to a disagreement between Disney JP and Disney HQ, etc., but at the end of the day we do not know the real reason and it unlikely that we will ever be told ^^

And this connects to the official OST: It has, pointedly, 149 tracks instead of 150, and Everybody Yaho! is not there!

There is not a "Japan release" and "Overseas release" of the OST--it is all the same product, with overseas buyers even receiving the lyrics booklet in Japanese!

Was "Everybody Yaho!" originally supposed to be a part of the set, but ultimately removed due to whatever reason it is that that song is being kept from EN speakers? 🧐

We do not know and probably never will, but it is most interesting to think about ^^

Another interesting point we saw with the OST: Most of the song titles were updated to reflect EN-server's changes! (Spectral Soiree, for example, was originally "Endless Halloween.")

So JP players are buying songs with new names written in a foreign language, with one exception: Wish Resound 👀

(While EN fans are left to wonder "Why is there a song here in a language I do not know?" about 1 song, JP fans are possibly thinking the same thing about the other 148 ww)

Unlike every other song on the OST the name of Glorious Masquerade song "Wish Resound" was not translated into English and instead intentionally left in Japanese!

The lyrics of "Piece of My World" that appeared on JP server were infamously removed from EN (during the audition scenes of Book 5), and the lyrics to "Wish Resound" were also removed from EN's Glorious Masquerade, replaced with "*singing*"!

Are the removal of the lyrics and "Everybody Yaho!" somehow connected? Related to a complicated web of usage rights and copyright laws, perhaps, that do not allow them to be published outside of JP server? 🧐

Any explanations you may see (including the ones in this post) are all conjecture and unfounded rumors invented by fans looking for answers, but it is most interesting, for sure! ^^

[etherealperrie]

The Chart (pt. 1)

"...like a bullet in between your eyes, she is fully loaded & pressurized"

Shane Mccutcheon x OC (Original Character) | The L Word

Word Count: 1.8k

Contains: Queer OC | Reader is a PhD Student in LA | playboy era Shane Mccutcheon | "Solid" by MUNA inspired | Mentions of secondary L Word characters |

Warnings: explicit language, references to drinking/alcohol, and explicit sexual activity

...

The club is hazy, a cloud of nicotine blowing past her nose as she saunters through the door frame. She breathes it in, the smell of cigarette smoke, alcohol, and sex eliciting a near Pavlovian response. Jules’ body is alight with excitement, the stress and nerves she’d bottled up throughout the week in desperate need of a release. What kind of release, though, she’s not sure. Is it something or someone she’s in need of? It doesn’t much matter to her, for the next forty-eight hours she’s free. Free from the library archives and the incessant nagging of her professors and advisors. Free from the writer's block that’s been plaguing her for nearly a month preventing her from making any progress on her dissertation.  

She perches herself on a barstool on the outskirts of the room, her eyes roaming the sea of bodies before her, every one of them here to escape something, to exchange their stressors for a vice. 

That’s why Shane Mccutcheon is here, anyway. A vice. Her biggest vice surrounds her where she stands at the center of the club, her tall frame leant against the bartop, a pair of leather pants accentuating the shape of her body. She doesn’t have to move, women flocking to her side, whispering in her ear. She raises an eyebrow, entertaining their whims, her smile lifting seductively. 

Jules takes a sip of the martini she was handed, the dark haired woman flashing her a smile from the nearby table. It’s dry and Jules doesn’t like olives. In fact, she loathes them. She’d much prefer a vodka cranberry, something easier to get down. But the martini is free. And as a struggling graduate student, the martini tastes like heaven. She winces as she swallows, the gin burning the back of her throat, but she feels her body relax in the same instant. 

Whatever had been on her mind slips away with each sip and soon, the drink is gone. The woman’s eyes widen, her smile growing, an image of her and Jules flashing across her mind, but Jules is already gone. She weaves her way through rhythmic bodies, the bass pumping through her shoes up to her chest so strongly that she can no longer decipher her own heartbeat. And, god, it’s heaven to disassociate, to leave her body and mind behind and move to the music. 

Shane doesn’t dance. Unless a pretty woman initiates, of course, but even in that case the dancing doesn’t last too long before Shane finds herself in the club bathroom with the nameless stranger. Or the alley behind the club. Or a parked car. Shane’s not picky. 

So, she just watches her friends frolic around her, drink in hand. It’s the usual sights for her, she’s here almost every weekend with Alice or Helena or Tina but she almost always leaves them behind. Shane recognizes some familiar faces, waving to some and totally avoiding others. 

But a new face in the crowd draws Shane’s attention. Though, she didn’t notice her face first, if Shane’s being honest. It’s the sight of long tousled hair flowing like soft silk between exposed slender shoulder blades as she moves her body side to side with the beat. It’s the lights reflecting off of her nude back. It’s the way she doesn’t seem to realize just how magnetic she is. 

Shane knows she has to move. A woman like this doesn’t stay on the dance floor for long. She pushes herself from her perch at the bar, eliciting a playful sneer from Alice that she ignores. 

The world is a blur for Jules, every face and body around her morphing together under the purple lights of the club. She laughs at nothing and only to herself, high on feeling. The music shifts to something softer and only then does Jules take a breath, slowing her movements. She closes her eyes for a moment feeling the erratic beats of her heart, grinding her hips to the slow, sensual beat. 

She gasps at the feeling of a body close beside her, a rogue hand grazing her hip. Jules leans into the feeling, reaching back to grasp the hand and pull it closer to her, encouraging the stranger to linger near her hip bone. There’s a breath exhaled before skin meets skin, the warmth of the stranger behind her, holding Jules as she grinds against the woman. 

The touch is heavenly, eliciting a soft moan from Jules as she leans back, resting her head against the woman’s chest. She takes another deep breath, the scent of whisky and cigarettes filling her lungs. When she opens her eyes, looking up at the woman, Jules is met with a pair of hazel eyes shrouded by an artful mess of dark hair, framed with a jawline chiseled by god herself. Shane’s eyes move down to admire Jules’ lips and chest – her imagination running wild with thoughts of what she would do just to feel Jules’ body underneath her own – then back up in a quick second.

Shane lowers her lips to Jules’ ear, holding back a groan as Jules’ grinds herself against her, both of their hands wandering new territory, eager to explore. 

“C’mon,” Shane breathes, sending chills down Jules’ spine. She wouldn’t typically do something like this, but she’d been so hyper focused with work the past few months that she couldn’t exactly remember the last time she’d been touched. She craves it now, especially with Shane’s hands on her body. She’s never felt so alive. Somehow, this woman she’s known for no more than a few minutes knows exactly where to touch her. 

Jules doesn’t protest when Shane laces her fingers between her own, a warm feeling spreading in her stomach as she rubs small circles into her skin as they weave through the crowd towards the back of the club, slipping through the bathroom door. 

Shane’s lips are on hers in the next second, warm and wet, Jules’ hands skimming the length of Shane’s back to tangle her fingers in the ends of her dark hair as they deepen their kiss. Every inch of Jules’ body is on edge, electricity running between the two of them, both hungry for more.

Shane breathes in the faint vanilla scent of Jules’ perfume, peppering kisses across her collarbones and back up to her jawline. She nudges Jules’ back gently against the door frame of one of the small stalls, bracing against it, her expression smug, drinking in the sight of the woman she doesn’t know but so desperately wants to touch, to taste. 

It’s here where Jules really takes Shane in, watching as she takes her bottom lip between her teeth, her gaze slipping down to the oversized white button-up shirt adorning her torso, the thin fabric making it abundantly clear she’s not wearing a bra. Jules swallows harshly, not sure if she wants to touch or be touched. Both, she decides as Shane leans forward to toy with the hem of her top – definitely both. 

She reaches underneath the hemline and eases the fabric up and over Jules’ head, ruffling her long tresses. Shane exhales at the sight of her nude chest, a moan escaping the back of her throat as her eyes rake over Jules’ breasts. It’s a view Shane loves, one she sees often, one she never tires of showing her appreciation for. She steps in, dropping her head to press a kiss to Jules’ sternum, but Jules stops her, placing a hand underneath Shane’s chin tilting her head back to look at her. 

“I want to touch you,” Jules breathes. Shane chuckles, shaking her head. It’s rare someone should think about her before themselves, but the only thing Shane can think about is tasting this woman for herself. That alone might be enough to get her off, no hands needed. 

“You first,” Shane asserts, her voice low, her eyes dark. She needs this, needs to feel her. Jules groans, her whine quickly turning into a whimper as Shane presses her body hotly against her own, kissing back down her chest. Shane sneaks her hand between their bodies, her fingers brushing over the button of Jules’ jeans. Her breath hitches and Shane smirks, popping the button open in one swift movement. Shane slips her fingers underneath the denim and lace, getting a real feel for just how much of a pool had collected between Jules’ thighs. 

A shared gasp escapes both of their lips at the same moment as Shane swipes her fingers in a slow, bold stripe, tracing a feather light touch up and around her most intimate parts. Shane looks up, a rush of adrenaline coursing through her from the feeling, from the sight of Jules gasping with pleasure, her head thrown back, eyes shut. 

“Fuck, look at you,” Shane sighs. She runs her fingers in the same pattern, eliciting another moan. Jules inhales sharply, grinding her hips, desperate for more. 

Three sharp taps on the bathroom door force them apart, Jules covering herself, rushing to the opposite side of the stall. She’d forgotten where she was, her focus on chasing the high and god, she’d been close. She wants nothing more than to finish what she’s started, Shane standing across from her still watching her with the same intensity and desire. 

“Hurry the fuck up in there!” a voice shouts, muffled behind the door.

“We don’t have to rush,” Shane says, closing the space between them again, her hands on Jules’ hips. 

“I think, uh, maybe I should go.” It’s the clearest moment Jules’ had since stepping foot in the club. 

“For what it’s worth, I really wanted to fuck you,” Shane sighs, raking a hand through her hair, leaving the strands perfectly rumpled. Her gaze drops to Jules’ naked torso, as if working to commit the image to memory. 

“I know,” Jules laughs, bending to pick her top up off the floor. She slips it over her head and squeezes past Shane, the stall door swinging as she steps through. Jules takes one last look at herself in the mirror, fixing the smudged lipstick at the corner of her mouth. Shane leans against the doorframe, watching intently. Shane considers for a moment, asking for the woman’s name, but thinks better of it. No point in changing old habits now. She’s probably only passing through town anyway. That, and Shane’s not the relationship type. She knows better. 

Jules turns on her heel and pulls the door open, her eyes widening at the line of women standing outside, each one of them glaring. 

“Tell Shane to fuck you in the men’s room next time,” one of them sneers as she pushes forward into the room. Jules furrows her brow, tugging at the neckline of her top. She moves past the line and heads for the exit, the name echoing in her mind over the image of the woman smirking up at her mere seconds ago. 

Shane. 

— 

A/N: Hey hey, if you got this far -- thank you! This is my first time writing anything for Shane &/or in the L Word universe, so I hope you enjoyed despite any inaccuracies, etc. I've been wanting to write for Shane for quite a while & when this multi-part idea came to me, I couldn't tell my mind no. Anyway, I hope you stick around for part two and even if you don't, I hope (for what it's worth) you enjoyed part one! :)

[otterneuvillette]

✧HIPS DON'T LIE ! ✧

⋆🌱— Pairings: alhaitham x fem! reader

⋆🌱 — Sypnosis: You are a well-known dancer in Sumeru City, a friend of Nilou's. You captivate people with your enchanting and slightly....sensual dances. You left the Akademiya due to discrimination bcs of family financial status.

⋆🌱 — content: fem! reader, slightly spicy. (you're a bad bitch lol), kinda OOC alhaitham lightly implied yandere tendencies, alhaitham losing his shit over you.

(might do a part two?? with smut or just a continuation..)

✧✧✧⁠✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

Many could say that Al Haitham was incredibly studious, or even a workaholic. Or that fact that he'd prefer studying over establishing connections or relationships during his student years in the Akademiya.

You were just another face in the crowd to him, someone that never really understood him, and even if you did try, he'd shoot down any chances when you approached him.

But, he paid the price dearly once you left the Akademiya, with the lack of your presence telling him that you were gone— you never knew that he enjoyed your company either.

Al Haitham, who was known as a man that only believes in hard truths and pure logic or scientific calculations and mathematics, had underestimated his desires that was buried within his heart, his need as a human being.

He was in love with you.

✧✧✧⁠✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

A sharp breath exited his body.

He was looking at you.

Al Haitham couldn't help but stare in awe. He took in every little movement, every miniature detail, every inch of your skin that was exposed by your costume and couldn't look away.

The world around him had seemed to come to a halt as you started dancing on the stage, catching his attention almost immediately as well as taking his breath away.

He never missed a show of yours, ever since he found out about your whereabouts after you left the Akademiya. He wasn't going to lie, he missed your persistent and bubbly personality, your beautiful eyes, your luscious hair and deep down, where he kept his unwanted desires hidden.

He missed looking at the shape of your body.

He couldn't lie anymore, he was still a man, much like every other men out there, who has a primal need for someone to satisfy his yearning. During the time the two of you were in the Akademiya, he never saw the need for a counterpart, a partner in life.

He couldn't understand why every other scholars his age has a need to find someone to share their fleeting youth with, to only part ways when they don't feel like it anymore.

Unnecessary, He thought, all these unneeded emotions and needs would only hold him back from his goals, but then he found you again, seen your performances and archons, oh how he wished he could take back those stupid thoughts he had back then.

He's falling from his high pedestal made from his beliefs and logic and embraced by the human desire that already consumed others.

✧✧✧⁠✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

You step onto the stage, your dance costume shimmering in the spotlight. The veil that was covering half of your face, the clinking of your waist ornaments and the rhythmic beats of the music fill the air, and you feel the energy pulsating throughout your chest to the tips of your fingers and toes.

As a renowned dancer, your movement is a language of your own and every step tells a story. The fluidity of your movements, and the gracefulness of your gestures, all come together to capture the audience. With each sway of your hips and extension of your arms, You feel your body become one with the music, letting the rhythm take control of your movements.

You were aware of his eyes watching you, and as you move with the music, Alhaitham was captivated by the power you hold as you bewitched the audience with the way you move. With every undulation and every turn, you capture his heart, and Alhaitham can't do nothing but watch in awe.

A small sweat drop appeared on his forehead. He had always liked watching your performance, but this was entirely on a different level. You seemed to shine a little more brightly today, was it the lighting? Or maybe how the stage light framed your figure perfectly tonight?

He got lost in your movements, captivated by your beauty and grace. The way you moved your body, the dance and gestures... archon's above, even how your hair moved with every movement, complementing it like a shadow. The way that you use your body to dance was like a siren using their voices to charm sailors, simply mesmerizing.

He could not describe it in words. The way you danced was like an amazing piece of art that would take an eternity to fully appreciate.

As you reached the climax of your performance. You twisted and turned, accentuating each and every part of your body into the dance, making sure you catch every audience member's attention, plus, to making sure Alhaitham's attention was on you and you alone in the process.

You noticed that he was there for every performance you've ever done, and this performance was a way to show your....appreciation.

As the music played, you were dancing perfectly to every beat and sound. The lights in the Zubayr Theater looked like the night sky, You felt yourself getting tired slightly but you kept pressing on.

Al Haitham could feel his face get warm. As your dance progressed and your movements got more confident, he was completely and utter captured. His eyes, locked onto yours as you danced, your hips swaying to the beat of the drums.. it was all so mesmerizing.

When the tempo picked up and your footsteps began to echo throughout the stage, he began to get dizzy. His breath was caught in his throat, all the attention and focus was towards you. The music itself seemed to be only your domain, and everyone watching was under your spell.

✧✧✧⁠✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

You were moving in a circular and Alhaitham swear that he could see your ass jiggle slightly.

You were blessed with a body with full curves and rounded thighs and waist, perfect for a dancer.

You were moving with such precise, and well practiced movement, twirling your wrist and the circling of your hips and waist. Your eyes wander around the room, and he wished that your eyes could stay only on him, but there are others that you must acknowledge in the room.

Alhaitham acquiesce. His heart is green with envy, blue with sorrow, and red with passion, all the colors of the rainbow pouring out onto the floor and forming a puddle of desire.

Al Haitham was completely entranced by the dance and you. Each gesture you made, how you swayed your hips and twirled your wrist...

He could've sworn at the way you walked, your hips swayed just a little more than necessary... as if you wanted to draw more attention to your curves and make the crowd even more attracted to you.

It had certainly worked on him.

Just as you looked around the room, Al Haitham managed to catch your gaze. He couldn't control his cheeks, they had turned a subtle pink.

You slowly moved lower, knees bent slightly, feet pressed to the wooden floor of the stage, raising the right side of your hips, lifting it upwards. While maintaining eye contact with Alhaitham as you move your hips from side to side at a fast pace.

He sees a silver of the floral tattoo on your hip and he felt his pants getting more uncomfortable by the second.

Al Haitham's mouth opened slightly and he felt himself breathe a little harder at the sight.

His heart was beating out of his chest as you moved your hips in a seductive manner as maintained eye contact with him. He felt so... exposed, as if you could see the lust in his eyes.

He just had to have you.

✧✧✧⁠✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

As the tempo picked up, your movements became more intricate, your arms and legs gracefully weaving in and out of each other. Your body seemed to be in a constant state of motion, flowing seamlessly from one movement to the next.

The audience was lost in the moment, their eyes fixed on you as you continued to perform. The sound of the cymbals filled the room, adding an extra layer of excitement to the already astonishing performance.

The tiny bells, chains, and charms on your ankles, wrist and waist jingled and sparkle in the lights of the stages.

Al Haitham felt his entire body trembling in excitement. The sound of the cymbals.. the twirl of your hips.. the movement of your arms, legs and even the jingling of the bells and charms on your wrists and ankles..

You were the main attraction. The main course.

No... you were the entire meal.

And he's planning to have you all to himself.

Al Haitham felt an urge he couldn't suppress. The way you moved, the way your eyes seemed to glisten slightly. It had taken every last ounce of his willpower to hold back from rushing the stage and take you in front of the crowd.

As you finished your performance, his breathing had become quite heavy and your figure was the only thing on his mind.

He was so lost in thought thinking of how you felt.. how sweet you would've tasted...

It's killing him to not be able to have you.

✧✧✧⁠✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

You panted. The long and intense performance took the breath out of you, but stamina is vital for a dancer so you weren't affected that much as you'd have thought.

You bowed towards the crowd that were throwing Sumeru Roses at the stage. You picked one up, smelled it and tucked it into your hair, it's vibrant purple was a stark contrast to your hair.

Al Haitham's eyes remained on you and he waited for you to notice him again.

As you picked up the Sumeru Rose and smelled it, then tucked it into your hair.. his eyes followed your every move with bated breath.

He noticed how your gaze lingered on him a second longer than necessary.

He was completely bewitched by you. The way your chest rises and falls, the way you bow, he sees a glimpse of your chest, which was quickly covered by the movement of your hair, much to his dismay.

And the way you tucked the Sumeru Rose in your hair. You looked so innocent to him...but he knows that you were anything but that and that little action alone made him want to just.. snatch you, claim you and never let you go.

He wouldn't let anyone have you, not after tonight. He'd kill anyone who would take you from him.

His previous thoughts and emotions quickly faded as reality returned. He was still sitting at his seat, he could feel his heart beating rapidly as he sat still. He couldn't help but stare at you with awe, the image still stuck in his mind. He felt himself smile as he watched you interact with the other audience members and your friends at the side of the stage.

Maybe next time he'll have the courage to come up to you and finally have the chance to talk to you.

But for now let him burn the image of you and your endless teasing during the performance in his mind.

So that he could imagine of fucking you senseless before he goes to sleep.

✧✧✧⁠✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

☆— FIN—⁠☆

[sillyvampireboi]

A new letter, in my electronic mailbox!

AO3

Summary: Armand starts receiving loads of love letters to his electronic mailbox, as he calls it, after the success of Daniel’s book, bombarding his useful iPad with notifications.  Why do strangers “love him” so much? Writing such intimate letters to him? While Daniel never writes anything. He must find out. 

contents: pov Armand, first person, Armand x Daniel, fluff, slight angst, slight emotional hurt, comfort, romantic, armand needs some love and reassurance!, he is sad meow meow

a/n: I just want some happiness for Armand ok? Also this whole fic was born from musings with @okaytosave <3 I hope you’ll like it :D | 👁️^👁️ <- this is Armand as emojis. No one can change my mind

let me know if you would like to be tagged :)

-English still isn’t my first language-

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

New era, new technology. New pace of life, new social norms. 

I saw the slow death of my mortal life’s world dying, inventions, religions and ideas popping out of thin air, countless wars and and even more deaths. The rotting of old academies which were the only acceptable faiths a few years prior, abandoned places and cities that were used for more polished ones’ base, art styles changing, fashion and garments changing, dialects changing, languages changing. Changing, changing, changing. 

Ever since I opened my eyes under the eternal night, I knew that change will be constant while I remain the same. This rotation happened rhythmically, slowly, inevitably, leaving enough time for its creatures to adapt. However as we waltzed into the 20th century, this sleepy melody began to alter. The music sheet decided to rewrite itself, to twitch here and there like a beetle on his back, but still following the original melody with these slight changes. 

Then came the 21th century, with his new suit and confident lettering. He glanced once onto his fathers’ theme and murdered it with a steady move of his pen. The tune turned from the unhurried pace and formed into a metallic scream. 

Changing, changing, changing. 

This one word has never been more true to any other century than this present one. 

My interest first started to grow with a funny device called the telephone. I could speak to someone in France while I was in any other part of the world with it! As years danced by me, I witnessed that same machine evolve. First it shrank. Got smaller and smaller, until at last I could put it in my pocket. 

Then came the ‘Internet’. It changed even more things in this racing century and— 

“Are you still looking at those emails? Really?” - I heard Daniel’s low vibrato next to me. We were laying on our shared bed in our new apartment. Long, thick curtains framed the windows, now placed on either side of the pale blue painting that was the sky. The blinking stars were invisible in this new hour, covered by the polluting light of the streets. 

Oh my sweet, seeing through me Daniel. He knew what worries or excites me without being able to read my mind. He simply sees me for what I am.

“Ever since you published your book, mortals keep sending me letters. People I don’t know nor have ever met. I don’t understand how they know my address.” - a loud snort was the only answer that Daniel honormed me with. He was covered with our heavy blanket that he liked, reminding him the warmth and comfort it brought him when he was still a human. As the owner of all the pillows, even mine, he was half laying - half sitting while he was scrolling through the application called twitter, now renamed as X. Not a smart decision in my opinion. It’s always been more flourishing for a company to have some kind of unique or catchy name. 

“Daniel, beloved, please listen to me. — for a moment he glanced at me, the half amused expression in his eyes with his half mocked eyebrow that jumped up on his forehead — Yes, I’m still looking at these ‘emails’. I’ve been browsing through these letters and many of these individuals have been referred to me as ‘little meow meow’ and ‘dear’ or ‘demon kitten’. Please love, what does it mean? Of course, I know what kitten and meow means, however I still fail to understand how these apply to me. But Daniel, what do they mean by ‘demon’? Is this a reference to my vampire nature? If so, I would ask you to tell your followers it’s not true! Love - why are you laughing? 

Daniel’s laugh filled my ears, borrowing a giggling sensation into my body. I loved his laugh. His sarcastic wheezings were frequent and without a stop, falling like rain upon a curly head. His good hearted laughs like this however! They felt like a special occasion of my heart whether I made him laugh or not. Although I felt my dead heart skip joyously when I caused his self forgetting roar. 

“ It’s because of your face.” 

“ My face? I don’t look like a cat! I’m far from it.”

“ They think you look very pretty and adorable. Like a little kitten, who can’t do anything wrong.” 

“ ….Are they the only ones who think I look pretty and adorable?” 

“ Flirting with me huh? Are you looking for compliments, now that I’m your fledgling? You know well how I feel, I don’t need to spell it out.” 

But I don’t! Please say it! I need to know! Please please please! I can never be so sure in my or your feelings. I can lull myself into the lie of love as I did with Louis, but I'm so tired. Fatigued by the endless knot of loneliness around my neck, please spell it out for me! 

I wanted to say, but I didn’t. Just stared at him silently with my usual expression of calmness as his face was illuminated by the light of his phone. I know my face was the perfect practiced mask, but I assume my eyes showed a glimpse into my turmoil because Daniel’s features changed.  

He put down his phone, somewhere amongst the folds of our bedsheets, and oh so gently he held the left side of my cheek in his palm. I leaned into his touch immediately, melted like snow under the mellow heat of the sun. He pulled me towards him and hinted a kiss on my other cheek. 

I slanted towards him, wanting more, not simply the only child kisses here and there, but the whole family and its storm. I wanted to be devoured by his all so consuming love, finally melting out of the ice I've buried myself in. 

“ I love you.” — heard my love’s voice close to me. He placed another kiss on my eyelids, the most intimate part of the body. How frequently do you see someone’s closed eyelids? When they are in deep sleep, flying among their safe dreams? — “ And no. They are not the only ones who think you are pretty and adorable, just so you know, you dickhead.” 

Ah my dear Daniel with his sinful tongue! I relearned with him how it feels to laugh and smile. 

I giggled into his traveling lips, suddenly shy to deepen the kiss. — “ Apart from ‘not the only ones’ , who else thinks that I am those things? I haven’t seen electronic letters from my starred address. 

“Oh, so this is what annoyed you, is it? I’m not rescuing the princess with my typed out words. Will he let down his hair too, if I go to the lengths to send a raven to him ?” 

“Hm! So why this stranger, who sent 5 separate letters to my electric mailbox, all of them detailing an adoration towards myself, could express more appreciation to me then you? 

“ You think I don’t appreciate you? I rather spend my night with more useful things than typing out words I can tell you. We live together, remember? “ 

“ You are on your phone all day beloved, harassing that American ex-president with the yellow wig—“ 

“ Come on, that’s besides the point. I don’t need to send detailed emails since I share a bed with you, Armand. I can tell you how I feel, just like I did now. .. Is that really so important to you? “

I huffed and silently stood up with my iPad. He doesn’t understand. It seems so insignificant to him, such an unimportant act. Of course, he is capable of speaking and expressing his care to me in his own ways, which I really appreciate that we can talk through, but …. 

“ Hey, where are you going?” — Daniel’s voice followed me faintly as I floated out of the window, towards my destination. 

~~*~~

I was standing in front of an apartment complex, with many tiny apartments inside. As I was blinking under the streetlamp, I saw many of them wrapped in shadows at that late hour, but the one I needed still bathed in a faint yellow light. 

How the streets and buildings changed within this century! Seemingly, in a blink of an eye. All life, all beauty and art disappeared from the newly built systems, and lazily leaked into the sewers. Oh how far we got from the Medicis! 

With my iPad still in my hand, I effortlessly opened the front door and floated upwards without a sound, in the center of the zigzagging stairs. 

On the floor, I knocked on the plain white door, which wore the same lifeless appearance as its partners. 

“Who could it be that late?” I heard your soaring thoughts, grumpily addressed to me. It felt like years until you opened your door, so leisure were your movements. Upon seeing me, many different emotions washed over your fragile form, from the first surprise to the blushing anticipation. It seemed like you lost your voice, so great was your astonishment. 

“We’ve never met. I don’t know you, why did you send this? Explain it to me.” — I opened up the Pandora box of my questions, showing your own letters to you on my iPad. 

You just stared, mouth slightly agape, looking between your own words on my screen and my face. As I waited for your answer, my gaze traveled behind you, into your cozily stuffed home. Right in front of me on the wall hung a huge mirror, reflecting me in the weak light from the hallway. My eyes were huge as usual, staring into space while the rest of my face was emotionless. 

I waited and waited and waited, yet you still haven’t talked, merely your skin got redder, your veins pumping your sweet blood into your head with a thundering noise. 

“Pay him no mind.” — all of the sudden I heard Daniel’s deep voice behind me. Looking up into the mirror I saw him lazily leaning to the wall, crossing his legs and arms in a ‘I don’t give a fuck’ fashion as he liked to call it. He was wearing his black, leather jacket and little round sunglasses, which I fancied seeing him in. — “‘He understands parasocial adoration from the old word, he is just your boomer’s boomer.’” 

I felt blood traveling to my cheeks, heating up my cold skin. I saw myself blushing under Daniel’s amused gaze. He lifted his eyebrows in a ‘what now pretty boy?’ way. My blushing was followed by a surprised oh, then I remembered that I was still angry at him, so I knotted my eyebrows to show clearly my frustration. 

“Daniel I have the right to inquire about such letters regarding my self. Parasocial isn't the word that I would - Excuse me for a moment” — here I turned away from you, looking Daniel in the eye — “ I still await an answer from them. And Daniel this is the last time I tolerate your stalking while I pursue- “

“Look who's talking about stalking, Miss Stalker. Also, you left without a word. I thought we had a moment of trauma bonding.” 

“Daniel, I need to know..” — I trailed off, seeing a sudden notification on my lock screen. 

A new letter, in my electronic mailbox! Its title said: ‘Here is your first love letter, fake Rashid’.

I felt my muscles loosen and tighten on my face in a warm, familiar way. I felt my lips dancing, my blood chuckling and the air from my lungs tittering outward. 

“You sent it to me?” 

“Yes I did. And just so you know, there is more where it came from. I didn’t know it was so important to you, Armand. You’ll get my ‘love letters’ princess. 

You, who were of the utmost importance to me a few minutes ago, were locked out of my mind. The only being I saw was Daniel. Daniel smiling at me. Daniel mocking me in a sarcastic adoring way. Daniel waiting for me and holding my hand. 

Daniel, Daniel Daniel, Daniel. 

He pulled me, waltzing away with me into the cool night, back to our home. Our home. What a nectary taste it has on my tongue. 

I felt myself flying while still stepping on the dark earth, laughing unselfishly under the invisible stars, still holding Daniel’s hand, feeling the ice melting inside my heart. 

~~*~~ 

The sun woke behind the blotchy buildings of the era, smiling away the cold shadows. Daniel already slept sweetly in our room, awaiting the next sunfall. 

Only a day passed since his first letter, however my electronic, organized folders were filled with his chaotic letters. 

‘Here is your 27th love letter, fake Rashid’, I read that morning. 

I’m pretty sure he meant to annoy me with the number of ‘emails’ he queued to be sent. Instead of annoyance, they became a sacred prayer I waited every day. I’ll need to buy more space to store them securely. Or I could print them out, hang them on the wall. It would irritate Daniel so much! 

After reading his 27th letter, I ambled into our bedroom. He was deep in his vampiric sleep, laying on his back, still as a corpse. 

I climbed next to him, throwing my arms around his neck and stealing kisses all over his cold face and lips. 

“I love you Daniel.” — I whispered into his ear as I snuggled into the crook of his neck. “Thank you for your letters.” 

[kestalsblog]

What I Love In Writing

Lately, I've seen so many negative posts (including my own) circulating about things not to do in writing, "advice" about which words to avoid, which tropes are most annoying, etc., etc. No wonder writing is often seen as a discouraging avenue to explore. In response, I've decided to make a post about things I personally LOVE to see in other people's writing, things that make me want to read more and more.

Attention to physical details that are less commonly described in stories. Three of my personal favourites are descriptions of hands, necks, and shoulders, which are just as expressive as eyes and other facial features.

When writers stretch a word's known meaning in a way that feels new and off-kilter. It always surprises me and draws me in. I particularly like when a noun is made into an interesting new verb. For example, "His eyes lanterned the dim room." Even though it might not make immediate sense, it can evoke a variety of new readings and emotions based on the context. If the scene calls for it, invent your own vocabulary. Language is yours.

I personally love contrasts between emotional states and settings, like when a character is facing turmoil on a beautifully sunny day, or, alternatively, two characters expressing their love for each other in a place that's falling apart.

How wonderful is it when someone can pull off the present tense elegantly? That sense of immediacy is refreshing.

Lengthy sentences that cascade rhythmically and emotionally to the point that you reach the end of the sentence and think, "Oh my gosh, that was only one amazing sentence!"

I love when characters are raw and real and messy and complicated, when they feel like people I could meet in my everyday life. I love when good characters do bad things and bad characters do good things.

Metaphors and similes, especially ones I've never read before.

I like when ugly or unexpected things are described beautifully. There is a difference between romanticizing something ugly and acknowledging an ugly thing's attributes thoughtfully enough to illustrate it with the same care and passion as a universally accepted lovely thing.

Personally, and I've changed my mind on this one recently, but I think it's sweet when I can pick up on favourite words or phrases the author likes to return to now and again. I understand it can be repetitive at points, but it's also like discovering a secret, cherished thing I can share with the writer. It adds to the voice. (Side advice: give yourself the liberty to change your opinions and try again with writing techniques you previously disliked).

Emotion, emotion, emotion. I'm an emotional person, and I like emotional writing that always walks that line between "balanced" and "too much." Not necessarily in that everything feels exaggerated or out of proportion with the plot, but that I can sense the characters' emotional states at all times, and sometimes even the grammar or language can reflect that - shorter phrases for an abrupt feeling, elongated ones for drawn-out, languid moments. The world is gorgeous, and our feelings are gorgeous. Writing that can capture that sensitivity has an everlasting effect on me. Like I'm at a party and the lights are too bright, the music is too loud, there are too many people, but it's all a reminder that I'm a human being. We're alive.

There are many, many more aspects of writing I love, too many for me to name but these are just some of the first that came to my mind. Amid all the cautionary writing tips you read out there, I encourage you also to establish for yourself the good things you should do. The risk of perpetual don'ts is a perpetual blank page.

Do what you love, and love what you do, but above all else, do.

[dailynnt]

LET ME FEEL YOU or CLOSER

THAN WE COULD EVER BE

Couple: Jeon Jung Kook/ fem!Reader

Characters: fem!Reader, Jeon Jung Kook, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, Min Yoongi, Kim Seokjin, Kim Namjoon, Jeon Hoseok.

🔞 Age restrictions: 18+

👩🏼‍❤️‍👨🏻 Relationship: get

📑 Word count: ❓

🖇️ Tags: best friends, friends with benefits, ex-relationships, slow longing, sexual tension, protected sex, unprotected sex, alcohol, drunken sex, inexperienced main character. Tags will be added as the story is written.

👩🏼‍💻 From the author: a short teaser of my new story that I have been wanting to write for a long time. The first part is almost done and will be out soon. If you liked it, please like and comment, I will be very grateful to you 🥹

⚠️ Warning: English is not my native language, so there may be mistakes in the text. Please don't get mad at me too much! Those under 18, please do not read this story!

Teaser

It was stuffy inside the club. The smell of alcohol, smoke, and sweat mixed together and made you feel nauseous. You sat down at the table next to Jimin. Jungkook, who had been sitting next to you all night, suddenly decided to sit next to Taehyung and Sumin. The thought crossed your mind that Jungkook might be mad at you. But why? You hadn't done anything wrong to him.

"Shall I order you another cocktail?" - You heard next to your ear. Jimin's hot breath burned your ear.

"Yes, I could use another." - You accepted the offer. Jhimin nodded his head and went to the bar.

While you waited for your cocktail, your attention was drawn to Sumin, who leaned over to Jungkook and whispered in his ear. She was whispering flatteringly, trying to get as close to the guy as possible. Throughout the evening, you noticed her flirting with Jungkook. It's no secret that Sumin has been chasing Jungkook for a long time, but all her attempts to get his attention have been in vain. But today, it looks like she had a chance, you concluded, looking at the way Jungkook was talking in her ear and smiling.

You suddenly felt irritated. You couldn't quite put your finger on why you were feeling this way, but you didn't like the fact that Jungkook wasn't sitting next to you and wasn't saying something in your ear that made you laugh so terribly-sickeningly like Simin it do.

You've never acted like this before. But now you wanted Sumin to disappear. Knowing that Jungkook never refused you no matter what you asked him, you wanted to ask him to dance, to take Jungkook away from Sumin's clutches.

You walked up to Jungkook and stood between his spread legs. He noticed you and looked up at you. In your peripheral vision, you noticed Sumin staring at you. Ignoring her gaze and Taehyung's, who was also looking at you, you leaned over to Jungkook and touched your lips to his ear, smelling his perfume.

"Kook, I want to dance." - You whispered to him, trying to overpower the music that seemed to be the only thing you could hear.

You straightened up, waiting for a decision. You knew that he would get up and lead you to the dance floor, even though you hadn't asked him specifically, you just told him what you wanted. Without another word, Jungkook stood up and took your hand. You smiled, celebrating your success. Yes! He always fulfills your wishes no matter what you ask. It was something special for you. Jungkook could have dropped everything and come to you at any moment. Given all the years of your friendship, you thought it was natural.

As you and Jungkook walked to the dance floor, the rhythmic music changed to a slower tune. Jungkook turned you around without letting go of your hand. His left hand held your waist, pulling you as close as possible, while his right hand continued to hold your hand. Your hands were intertwined and held at hip level. You put your arms around Jungkook's neck with your free hand and you began to move to the rhythm of a beautiful slow melody.

It was not strange for you to stand so close to each other and hold hands almost intimately. You shared a bed many times when you spent the night at Jungkook's place or when he was able to stay at your place on occasion. You never had a problem with that. When you were going to a movie night, you could often watch it in each other's arms. Or when it was cold, Jungkook always served as a warm battery for you.

But that night, something changed. Now, dancing with Jungkook, you find yourself thinking that you like to feel his beautifully muscled body. You like to feel his arms around your waist and smell his expensive perfume. Most likely, it's just the alcohol in your blood giving way to your feelings. After all, it was the first time you got so drunk after breaking up with Shinhyun.

While you were thinking about how good you felt in Jungkook's arms, he brought you out of your thoughts.

"We haven't finished communicate yet." - He reminded you.

"I'm not talking to Shinhyun anymore." - You said. "I did talk to him a few times after we broke up, but I don't want to see him anymore.

"I really hope so because he's a fucking piece of shit. He used you and you think he wants a relationship." - Jungkook said, irritated. You're outraged. Of course you knew he was taking advantage of you. But he didn't need to remind you of that.

"I know who he is, but I didn't go out with him because I wanted him back." - You lied. That's why you went on all those dates. But because you wanted to look more mature in Jungkook's eyes, you lied. Jungkook smiled. He didn't seem to believe you. He had every right to, since he remembered your condition after the divorce.

"What was the reason then?" - Your best friend asked with a smile on his lips.

"I wanted to have sex!" you blurted out, not thinking of anything better. You were already scolding yourself in your mind.

Jungkook was taken aback for a second, he didn't expect to hear you say such words. Because you've always been modest, and this topic made you shy. Jungkook should have known that this Shinhyun was your first husband, even though you didn't say so.

"Sex?" - He repeated with amusement in his voice. "You mean you crossed paths with your ex just to fuck?" - You felt your stomach churn inside. It was so unlike your behavior, but you were a big girl now and you could have wanted to have sex.

"Yes. I knew that's what he wanted too, that's why I go on these dates." - You whined, trying to prove that you were telling the truth.

"If you wanted sex, you could have found another guy instead of going back to that asshole." - Jungkook said. Now you smiled, he seemed to believe you.

"It's still hard for me. But I know Shinhyun, and it's convenient." - You continued your lie.

You two were silent. Jungkook looked away, and you thought the conversation was over, and leaned against his shoulder. You danced with your arms around each other, each thinking about your own things. You thought if I had really done that, maybe I wouldn't have gone through this divorce for so long. You wanted to be the type of girl who used guys for sex, but you had just recently started having sex and were not experienced in this regard at all. You didn't even know how to flirt properly to pick someone up. But if you think about it, it was still important for you who you went to bed with. It was important that you liked the person you were going to have sex with and could trust them. Casual sex is definitely not your thing. And you just lied to Jungkook about that you could be this person.

You continued to dance to the slow melody. Your mind was racing. You were constantly asking yourself, "What is wrong with me that he did that? Maybe I'm not attractive enough?" You felt Jungkook slide his hands down your back. Should you ask him? Would he give you an honest answer?

"Jungkook-ah..." You called out to the men, pulling your cheek away from his shoulder. You spoke in his ear, because the music drowned out any voices.

"What, Goldeny?" - He answered, also in your ear. His hot breath sent shivers down your spine.

"Let me ask you something. But I need your answer as a man, not as my best friend." - Jungkook caught your gaze for a moment and leaned toward you.

"Ask!" was the only word you heard. But you realized by his tone that he was serious.

"Promise me that you will tell me the whole truth!" you demanded.

"I always tell you only the truth. So don't doubt me. Ask me any questions you want, dear." - Jungkook assured you that he was ready to answer honestly.

"Jungkook-ah... tell me, am I attractive?" - You asked. "As a woman?" - You thought that Jungkook would think about your question. You thought he would look at you and smile and say something like, "Is that all you wanted to ask? You're like a sister to me, how can I evaluate your appearance?!" But instead, he answered almost instantly. His lips touched your ear and you heard: "You're so damn attractive!" His words made your heart beat at a frantic pace. You felt hot, even though the club was already stuffy. Your best friend's low voice echoed in your ears.

You pulled away from Jungkook and you face were close again. Being close to him made you feel things you shouldn't have. And after his words, you lost all self-control.

You looked at Jungkook and couldn't understand what his expression meant. Was he joking with you or was he being completely serious? And then his gaze fell on your lips. For a second, you thought he wanted to kiss you. But no... what are you thinking? This is Jungkook, your best friend, whom you've known for years. The same friend who said he thinks of you as a sister, not an attractive girl. And he can't look at your lips with such desire.

Jungkook let go of your hand, which he had been holding the whole time during the dance, and put it on your hip.

You don't know what you looked like right now, but you tried not to look like you were dying. What was happening between you had no logical explanation.

"Goldeny, you don't even know how attractive you are!" you heard above your ear again. "Did you want than I tell you the truth? Are you sure you can handle it if I tell you?" - You nodded on automatic, confirming that you could handle it, even though what Jungkook had said a second ago made your legs turn upside down.

"If you weren't my friend, I'd have already fucked you!"

Expect the sequel soon!

By the way, I also have a few works that you can read:

"A Sober Driver for Jung Jeon Jung Kook"

"Agaainst the Rules"

[hostclubau]

By Any Other Name

This is an x reader, multi-ending, otome style story.

fem!reader

Summary: Your life is hell, and your parents abandoned you to a literal loan shark. A near death experience has changed the trajectory of things, but is this a blessing? Or an endless fall into things far worse than you had before?

Content Warnings: The host club has an After Hours that's effectively a brothel. There are BDSM themes and the exploration of a lot of kinks. Foul language, canon levels of violence, mature audiences only.

Chapter 2: Pretty Little Liar

Shakky held the door open as Hongo carried you inside the club. The quiet of the alleyway was replaced by the soft thumping bass from whatever music was being played. You were carried through two more doors before you came into the club proper, and the music, which was by no means soft, wasn’t so loud that you needed to shout to be heard.

The rhythmic thump of the bass was just strong enough to lure your muscles into movement, the music just loud enough to shroud each conversation into something private. Sheer curtains separated certain areas, deep wood booths, with walls that went from floor to ceiling separated other areas with more force. Doors lined one wall, a series of private rooms maybe, an ultimate offer of privacy in an otherwise open space.

Hongo made his way past the booths, walking by a bar and heading back down the other side of the row of booths. There were less people on this side, and the few you noticed were enjoying the tail end of evening meals. The thump of the music was a little more forceful on this side, but not by much.

Hongo set you down in a booth and then pointed toward a heavy curtain.

“On the other side of that is the reception desk and the main entrance.” He explains, taking a step back once he’s sure you’re not going to tip over.

“Are you telling me to get lost?”

“Nope. Just making sure you know how to leave if you want to.” The smile on his face is genuine. “My preference would be for you to stay put though, I’ll be back with Law in a moment.”

You nod, a little numbly. You’re not sure what to make of things yet, but bolting now isn’t going to solve any of your problems. “Yeah, I’ll be here.”

Hongo leaves you in the booth and you take a better look around. You knew of The Club as it was often referred to, and how it had Hosts during the daytime and Escorts at night, but you’d never bothered to take a look inside. Aside from the fact that it was called By Any Other Name, which was hilarious to you that people called it by another name on the regular, you knew little else about it.

Well, that wasn’t exactly true. It was above board and had a solid reputation.

No one ever seemed to speak ill of the place, unless they’d been barred from it. And at that point, what worth was their opinion on it anyway.

Classy was certainly the word for it. The booth you were in was leather, and while you weren’t sure what the wood of the table was, it was beautifully stained and sealed. Even in the dim light you could see the care put into the place.

There was a stage across from where you were sitting, with a small collection of large couches and luxury seats. The way they were placed allowed people to focus on one another in small groups, and the stage itself. It was surprisingly private for something without dividers. There was a pop card on the stage stating what the show for the night was, but it was too far away for you to make it out right now. It must just be the start of the evening, if all the events weren’t in full swing.

It was certainly much larger than you had expected. Something about the dimensions felt off, but you weren’t going to go looking for false walls or secret passages right now, so you didn’t let it needle your thoughts.

True to his word, Hongo returned with someone else in tow. The younger man behind him looked pissed off, but his movements were relaxed otherwise, so it might just be a case of resting bitch face.

Boots, low-waisted ripped skinny jeans, and a sleeveless turtlenecked crop top. The outfit showed off an impressive number of tattoos and an equally impressive physique. Silver rings on his fingers drew your attention enough you could see letters inked into his skin, but it was impossible to know what they said in the club’s dim light.

“Law, this is our guest, miss… uh… my apologies, I seem to be doing my best to forget my manners tonight.”

“Girl.” You answer.

Hongo looks stunned, but Law looks pissed. “Your name is Girl?”

You shrug. “It’s all Arlong’s called me. I don’t remember another name.”

Both of them flinch, but don’t say anything more on the matter.

“Hongo says you’re okay with being scanned,” Law says after a moment. You nod and when he puts a hand out toward you, you feel the world shift a little. Everything looks a little bluer than it had a moment ago.

Grumpy pants looks even grumpier while he’s concentrating, but Hongo hadn’t lied. This scanning, whatever it was doing, you couldn’t feel it. There was a sense like someone was looking at your insides, but you felt like maybe it was more your imagination than anything else.

“Trouble breathing?” Law asks after a moment.

“Not really.”

“You’re a really good liar.” He grumbles, leveling a glare at you. “Two bruised ribs, and you’re lucky that knot on the back of your head isn’t a concussion.”

“Bruised -,” Hongo interjects looking over at you. “It had to hurt while I carried you, my apologies.”

Shaking your head you wave it off. “Nah, it wasn’t so bad. I wasn’t making it in here on my own two feet anyway.”

The blueish aura disappears and Law sighs. “You’re malnourished, dehydrated, and obviously exhausted. A glass of water with your meal, and another before you go to bed.” He leans down, pointing a finger at you. “Don’t. Chug.” He snarls. “Eat slow, and drink slow.”

You put your hand up in a mock salute. “Aye aye, cap’n.” He looks like he’s going to yell something at you for a split second, but thinks better of it and backs off. “I thought he was the doctor though.” You say, pointing at Hongo.

“There’s three that work here.” Hongo explains. “Thanks Law, I’ll watch over her for now.”

Law grunts and walks off as Hongo sits down across from you in the booth.

“Charming.”

“When he wants to be.” Hongo says with a smile. “Marco’s the third doc, but he’s not scheduled tonight. You might meet him tomorrow though.”

“Mm.” You look around and see a blonde man in a chef’s uniform heading toward the table. When he sees you his face lights up and he gives you a wide smile.

“Lady Shakky said we had an honored guest,” he says, setting a small stand by the table and putting the tray on it. “Blackleg Sanji,” he says with a deep bow. “At your service, mademoiselle.”

“Uh… thanks.” You barely manage the words, your brows raised and mouth slack. You’ve never seen someone so over the top still manage to land as being genuine.

“Keep a lid on it, Sanji.” Hongo warns lightly. “She’s been through a lot tonight.”

“Yeah, yeah, I was already warned.” Sanji clicks his tongue, the smile returning before he turns his attention back to you. “My best was requested, but since I don’t know your preferences, I hope you’ll find something here to your liking, Miss.”

He starts setting plates on the table with all manner of food. Hamburgers, onigiri, fried rice, steak, leek soup, and a collection of small plates with even more variety on them. Then he sets down a glass of water, a cup of hot tea, and what you assume is apple juice and not beer or liquor.

“I… I can’t eat all of this.” You stammer. You wish you could though, it all looks so delicious you do want to eat all of it.

“Of course not, sweet lady.” He reassures you. “Just eat what you want, much as you like. I promise the rest won’t go to waste.” His smile is wide, and again, genuine.

Happy people.

Something twists in your stomach, but it’s not enough to put you off the idea of food. You’d been hungry when Arlong found you, and you were even hungrier now. The food in front of you looked flawless, and smelled just as divine.

Taking a bite of the fried rice, it tastes even better than it looks. It takes everything you have to slow yourself down as you start to eat a little bit from almost every plate. It’s warm, and it even feels like it’s warming you up inside. It was silly to imagine it soaking into your bones when it was barely in your stomach, but it really felt that satisfying.

“You alright?” Hongo’s voice is just loud enough to make it over the music, and when you look up to ask him what he means, you realize you’ve been crying.

“I…” Realization makes the tears hit harder, and Sanji hands you a napkin. Nodding, you wipe away the tears. “Yeah,” you murmur, the word is assumed more than heard, lost in the din of the music.

“Yeah,” you say it again after the tears settle, nodding again and doing your best to smile. You look up at Sanji to compliment him, but the soft expression on his face stops the words in your throat. There’s something there that’s more than just compassion or empathy.  There’s an understanding there you didn’t expect to see.

“It’s delicious.” You say after a moment and the soft expression brightens.

“Tomorrow we can get your preferences and any allergies,” Sanji says, tucking the serving tray under his arm and folding the little stand back up and tucking it away between the booths. “I’m going to check in on the Front, you all good?” His question is directed at Hongo, but you nod along with the doctor who waves him off.

Sanji bows toward you one last time, giving you a big smile again. “It’s been my pleasure, lady.” With that he leaves you and Hongo be.

“He seems nice.” You manage between bites. You’re trying really hard to eat slowly, but the food is so delicious you’re pretty sure you’re going to over eat.

“He’s holding back really well. Shakky must’ve really given it to him.”

“Huh?”

Hongo chuckles. “Sanji’s heart is wrapped around one girl, but he tends to really go over the top for all girls. It can be a lot if you’re not used to it. Shakky probably made sure he knew to keep it to a minimum.”

“That was the minimum?” Surprise causes the question to come out of your mouth while its still got food in it, but the doc isn’t looking at you.

Hongo nearly chokes trying to stifle his laugh, and nods. “He’s a good soul though, even if he can be a real bastard when he wants.”

“What’s your take on this place?” You question, not wanting to have someone just sit there and watch you eat.

He tilts his head and considers for a moment. “It’s a bit like… a ship. A really big one with three captains at the helm and half a dozen or so divisions keeping it running. It’s not perfect, but I can’t imagine it being capsized either.”

The analogy slows you down. “Sounds like Pirate Era talk.”

The smile on his face looks mischievous. “I suppose it does. The Owners were pirates.” He says and you nod.

“Yeah, Arlong was too. Wouldn’t ever shut up about it.” You wipe your mouth with a napkin. “He’s not like Roger though.”

“Few could compare.” Hongo says and you shrug.

“No one else changed the world like he did.”

“He didn’t do it alone.”

Rolling your eyes you scoff. “No shit, doc.”

Hongo grins. “Hey, look at you, finally relaxing a little.”

Flinching, you frown. “A comfy seat and good food work wonders, I guess.” You mumble, turning your attention back to the food, poking slowly at a few more bits of food.

A familiar form walks toward your booth. Shakky is giving professional smiles and small waves to people as she walks through the main area. The actions are a very firm, and polite action that clearly states she’s not available currently, and Hongo scoots over to give her room as she joins the two of you at the booth.

“I’m glad to see the food is to your liking.” The smile on her face now is subtly more sincere, but she’s intimidating and you almost feel like you need to be kneeling on the floor, instead of daring to sit across from her like this.

“I’ve - yeah, it was, that’s-.” You press your lips together to stop yourself from rambling more. Shakky gives you a moment and you try again. “It was delicious.”

“Feeling better?” She prompts and you nod.

“What happens now?” You ask the question, your eyes downcast from nerves.

“We have a guest room set up for you to use. You can shower and sleep, and tomorrow the morning chef will make you breakfast.” Shakky explains, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it before blowing smoke up to the ceiling. Your eyes follow the action and you’re amused to see it get sucked up into what must be an impressive air filtration system.

“Arlong will arrive and negotiate the final payout for your debt. Once that’s settled me and the other two owners will discuss what options we have for you.” She lets another lazy stream of smoke go up to the ceiling. “Then we go from there.”

You grunt, trying not to let your pessimism show too much. Out of the frying pan and into the fire, you were sure. Or maybe more like out of the frying pan and into a slow cooker. You were certain that Shakky and her associates were at least going to be gentler than Arlong.

But your goose was cooked either way, so there was no real escape.

Shakky waved to someone you couldn’t see and eventually a tall woman with long black hair came into view pushing a wheelchair. Her wavy hair cascaded nicely, and while her clothes were snug and a bit revealing, she looked comfortable.

“Alvida, if you could bring her to the guest room, I would appreciate it.” Shakky says.

“I’m pretty sure I can walk.” You say, looking from the chair to Shakky and then Hongo. “I feel a lot better.”

“There’s not many free rides in the club, sugar.” Alvida says, an amused grin on her face. “Certainly not from me, so you should accept it.”

“Your bruised ribs will thank you.” Hongo adds.

“We won’t force you.” Shakky interjects. “But you aren’t being charged for any of this. By Any Other Name doesn’t have hidden fees or expenses.”

You snort a laugh, recognizing the dig at Arlong for what it was. “Sure. Why not.” You shrug, sliding over to the wheel chair and seating yourself. “Thanks, Miss Alvida.”

“Just call me Alvi, kid,” she says, unlocking the wheels and pushing you away from the booth. “Look, this guest room is gonna look fancy as shit,” she forewarns, after getting you through the main part of the club and into an elevator. “Don’t let it freak you out.”

“The whole club’s fancy as shit,” you point out. “Why would I freak out over the guest room?”

“I guess we’ll see soon enough.” The door dings softly and Alvida pushes you out onto marble flooring. You almost pull your legs up into the chair for fear of stepping on it.

The walls are no less elegant, art and gold accenting them. This hall alone had to have enough money hanging on its walls to set you for life.

Not that you’d even consider trying to steal it.

Something about the club left you feeling like you’d have an easier time stealing from the world government and getting away with it. Your punishment would probably be far less severe from them as well, compared to The Owners.

“H-hey, aside from Shakky, who else owns this place?”

“I told you not to freak out, kid.”

“We’re not at the room yet, and I’m not freakin’ out yet.” You say it a little louder than you mean to, but when you twist to look at Alvida the pain in your body zings up your spine. You face forward with a grunt as she stops in front of a solid oak door with delicate vine details carved into it.

“Yet.” Alvida repeats and you grumble under your breath. She puts a laser cut key into the lock and you hear the mechanism turn without her moving anything. Turning the knob, she opens the door and removes the key, handing it to you while she blocks the view with her body and the door.

“Silvers Rayleigh and Sir Crocodile are the other co-owners.” She says, and you realize that neither name is familiar to you. Which isn’t surprising. Arlong seemed to know Shakky pretty directly, but you’d never seen her or heard her name before tonight. “Given the look on your face, neither of those names ring a bell. That tracks. They stopped being pirates over 20 years ago, not a lot of folks still remember ‘em.”

Alvida opens the door the rest of the way and steps inside, giving you a view of the guest room.

Spacious was barely the word for it. Thick rugs laid over a hardwood floor that had two shades of stain, or two types of wood, creating patterns with the planks. The whole room looked like someone had pulled it from some sort of 17th century royal suite.

You could barely bring yourself to get out of the wheelchair, stepping into the room like a skittish feral animal unsure if it was actually allowed to come inside. Alvida was so still you forgot she was there for a moment, leaving you to take in more and more of the room.

The the wood-framed couch was velvet, you think. There’s one door off the main room, which seems to be like a living room, or common area. There’s just enough of a kitchen to make coffee and maybe reheat leftovers, but you imagine most of the food comes from the main kitchen on the first floor.

“It would be rude to let it go to waste.” Alvida says, and you nearly leap out of your skin at the sound of her voice. “Enjoy the shower, the tub, and the bed.”

“I - yeah, I… I’ll try?”

Alvida snorts a half-hearted laugh, patting your shoulder as she walks out of the room. “Hang in there, kid.”

[supernaturalscribe67]

WAP

Words: 1,825

POV: 3rd Person

Pairing: TFW x Male!Reader [Platonic]

Warning(s): The term 'wet ass pussy' is used frequently, crack!fic, embarrassment, discomfort, language, I cried laughing while writing this...

Summary: When the reader decides to listen to music in order to combat the exhausting amount of research he has to do, a certain angel hears the lyrics of one of the songs, leading to some rather...uncomfortable questions.

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A monster had entered Lebanon, and no one had any idea what it was. Some signs pointed to vampires, others pointed towards a werewolf, and Dean swore there were signs of wendigo activity, but Sam was skeptical about Dean’s findings. After they interviewed the victims’ families and searched around the sites where the individuals were last seen, the group was still limited on clues that would give them a definite answer. So, they decided to head back to the bunker and do the one thing they were least excited to do;

Research.

They knew that it was going to be a gruesome task - looking through all the text in the Men of Letters bunker - to try and find exactly what they were hunting. They enlisted the help of Castiel, giving him his first taste of what researching entailed. The four of them were gathered around a table in the library, noses deep in books and websites as they scoured the seemingly endless resources at their disposal. 

After several hours, multiple closed tabs, and two stacks of books, they seemed to be getting nowhere. Everyone was starting to feel fatigued and all of them wanted nothing more than to take a break. However, despite the feeling of exhaustion, they kept going. It was different when the unknown monster was right on their doorstep.

(Y/N) let out a sigh as Sam dropped the book in front of him, a cloud of dust emitting from the leather-bound cover. He coughed and covered his mouth. 

“Care to explain why we can’t take a break from research?” (Y/N) questioned, clearing his throat as he raised a brow.

 Sam walked over to the other side of the table, sitting down with his book in hand. “The monster’s not going to take a break from killing people, so we can’t take a break from researching.” He replied, a sigh following his response. 

(Y/N) groaned. He unclipped the binding on the side of the book and opened it up to reveal the yellowed pages. “I wish these damned monsters would get a life and take a vacation.” He grumbled. 

Dean snorted from beside his brother, eyes glued to his laptop as he took a swig of beer. “You and me both.” 

“Well, if I’m going to keep researching, then I’m going to be listening to music while I do so,” (Y/N) reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone and earbuds. He placed one into his ear. “Just tap my shoulder if y’all need something,” he mumbled before placing the other bud into his ear. 

He began to search through the different playlists that he made, each of them meant for a different mood he was in. There was a playlist dedicated to helping him relax, one to help wake him up, one to help him sleep, one to pump him up for upcoming hunts, and many more. At that point, the last thing he wanted to listen to was quiet, soothing music. He needed something to keep him awake and hype him up while continuing the research. Once he settled on a playlist, he clicked on the first song before setting his phone down on the table beside him. 

The music soon began to flow through the earbuds, encasing (Y/N) in his own little world as his gaze moved to the text in front of him. For several minutes, his eyes were trained on the book as different pop, hip-hop, and rap songs filled his ears. His head moved up and down slowly in a rhythmic motion as he read over the faded words, flipping the pages to try and find the answer they needed. 

Soon, a familiar tune filled his ears, followed by the words to one of his favorite songs. 

Whores in this house

There's some whores in this house

There's some whores in this house

There's some whores in this house (hol' up)

I said certified freak, seven days a week

Wet ass pussy, make that pullout game weak, woo! (Ah)

(Y/N)’s head movements immediately shifted to the rhythm of the song and he fought back the urge to sing along. As the song played, he was finding it more and more difficult to focus on the book rather than the lyrics. It was a great distraction from the necessary research at hand. 

Tie me up like I'm surprised

Let's role-play, I wear a disguise

I want you to park that big Mack truck right in this little garage

Make it cream, make me scream

Out in public, make a scene

I don't cook, I don't clean

But let me tell you, I got this ring (ayy, ayy)

(Y/N) had now completely abandoned the book in front of him as he continued to listen to the song. His eyes were still cast down at the book, but nothing was sinking in as he scanned over the same line of text over and over again. He began to sing along to the song in his head. 

Gobble me, swallow me, drip down the side of me (Yeah)

Quick, jump out 'fore you let it get inside of me (Yeah)

I tell him where to put it, never tell him where I'm 'bout to be (Huh)

I'll run down on him 'fore I have a (Ayy) runnin' me

A light tap on his shoulder startled (Y/N) from his trance. He turned towards the direction of the tap to see Castiel pulling his hand back towards him. (Y/N) raised his brows as he reached over, paused the song, then took one of his earbuds out. 

“Yeah?” He asked. 

Castiel stared at him with a confused expression, opening his mouth to speak but finding himself unable to find the words that he was looking for. He looked down at the table, the floor, then back at (Y/N). (Y/N) reached up and took his other earbud out, giving Castiel his full attention.

“What’s up, Cas?” He asked once more. 

Still, Castiel couldn’t seem to form the question he wanted to ask. Dean glanced up over his computer screen and took another sip of beer. “Just spit it out, Cas,” he chimed in.

Castiel was finally able to find the words that he was looking for. “(Y/N)...” he trailed, his voice filled with uncertainty. “What is…what does ‘wet ass pussy’ mean?” 

Dean choked on his beer, causing it to spill out of the corners of his mouth. It threw Dean into a coughing fit. He scooted his chair back and leaned forward. Sam stared at Castiel with wide eyes for a moment before he looked over at his brother. He reached over and began to pat his back. Meanwhile, (Y/N) stared at Castiel with a wide deer-in-headlights look, mouth hung open. Castiel studied the three for a moment before he shrunk back into his seat. 

“Did I say something inappropriate?” He asked in a quiet tone, a look of shame crossing his face. 

(Y/N)’s mouth moved up and down, the flabbergasted expression still present on his face as he tried to think of a response. At that point, Dean had stopped coughing and his and Sam’s eyes were staring right at (Y/N). 

“Um…uh…” (Y/N)’s mind was blank, still in shock from the question. Castiel stared at him intently, sharp blue eyes seemingly piercing into his soul. Finally, (Y/N) cleared his throat and sat up. “Why, um…why do you ask?” 

Castiel gave a gentle nod toward (Y/N)’s phone. “You were listening to a song.” He said. “It mentioned something about ‘wet ass pussy’. I’ve never heard that term before, so I was curious as to what it meant.” 

“Was my music too loud?” (Y/N) asked, trying to steer clear of any explanation he had to give. He glanced towards Sam, then Dean, then finally at Castiel.

Sam and Dean shook their heads in response, their eyes still attached to him. Castiel shook his head as well. 

“No. your music was at an adequate volume. I heard it in your head.” 

“Ah…” (Y/N) nodded his head slowly. He folded his hands on the table in front of him and bit his lip. 

“I believe ‘wet ass pussy’ has something to do with sex when it is compared to the other lyrics of the song.” 

“Cas, can you please stop saying ‘wet ass pussy’.” (Y/N) spoke in a slightly strangled tone of voice. 

“Was I correct?” 

(Y/N) hesitated for a moment before he looked towards the brothers, who both had mirroring looks of amusement. “A little help here,” he grumbled between gritted teeth. 

Sam and Dean both shook their heads. Sam threw his hands up, signaling that he was staying out of it while Dean smirked and reached for his beer again. “This is all on you, buddy,” he piped up. 

(Y/N) let out an exasperated sigh as he ran his fingers through his hair stressfully. Certainly, he couldn’t explain what ‘wet ass pussy’ meant to an angel, right? That was just guaranteeing him a one-way ticket to Hell at that point. He weighed his options. He could be teased relentlessly as he explained what the term meant to Castiel while simultaneously securing the number one spot in Hell next to Crowley, or he could be teased regardless and hope that he could still get into Heaven. 

He decided to save himself from any further embarrassment. 

Quickly, (Y/N) stood from his seat, the legs of the chair scraping against the concrete floor. He closed the book in front of him and brought it close to his chest.

“I think I’m going to continue researching in my room.” He stated. 

He grabbed his phone and struggled to place it into his pocket, followed by his earbuds, before escaping the room as quickly as he could. Sam and Dean watched him with smirks on their faces while Castiel just watched in confusion as his friend retreated. Sam and Dean looked at one another, Sam shaking his head before he returned to the book in front of him. Dean, on the other hand, let out a deep chuckle before turning his attention back to the computer screen. Castiel’s eyes were cast down, his lips pursed and back slouched ever so slightly. 

After a while, Castiel sat upright in his seat and placed his folded hands in his lap. 

“What is ‘wet ass pussy?” He asked, looking towards Sam and Dean for some type of answer. 

Sam and Dean looked up at him, then at each other, then back at him. 

“We’ll have (Y/N) tell you later, Cas,” Sam finally answered. 

Seeming slightly satisfied with the response, the three of them got back to researching while (Y/N) sat in his room, forgetting about the case altogether and trying his best to rid himself of the horrible feeling of discomfort he was experiencing. 

[canmom]

music in sign languages

was thinking about how music is probably the closest thing to a truly human-universal art form, given as far as I know every culture has some kind of music, and it probably predates e.g. ceramics, textiles and painting, since you really only need your own body to make music. (i think the only earlier candidate I can think of is sex. does that count? depends how you define art form but I think it does.)

the obvious possible exception for music is... well, some proportion of d/Deaf people. certainly not all; many d/Deaf people enjoy music, both because it's a category that encompasses a pretty wide range of hearing, and also because the tactile sensation of vibrations can still be felt - especially at live music events and such where the bass is really strong.

still, this kind of thought led me to wondering if there is a sign language analogue to singing or rap. and... there is! in the UK at least it seems to be known as 'signsong'. there's one artist called fletch@ who performs covers of pop songs in BSL...

and there's SignKid, a London-based rapper who also performs in BSL as well as doing music production, using tech like the vibration board in this video to sync it all up...

so now I'm really curious like, what features signsong shares with singing. obviously it is like dance in that it involves rhythmic motion to music - but unlike dance, each motion is conveying like, specific semantic/grammatical meaning within a larger language. as well as rhythm, is there an analogue to pitch - signing 'high' or 'low'? dynamics? could you sign in harmony with someone? what are the differences between signsong influenced by rap and by pop music? i bet there's so much linguistic nuance, but I'm not sure where to find out more.

the above performers sign in BSL. I did a search for ASL rap and mostly found videos about sign language interpreters at rap concerts, or covers, for example interpreter Amber G covering Eminem...

...or this video in which three interpreters take turns covering Wiz Khalifa. (The host doesn't seem to be taking it too seriously, which is a shame, because a sign language rap battle is legit a great concept?)

Amber G has a whole lot of ASL song covers it turns out, including most of the entries in this playlist of ASL songs.

I also found a channel that does ASL covers of Jonathan Coulton songs, for example:

This one is interesting because it has two backing signers, who seem to repeat the same couple of words to support the main signer.

So far I've only found covers, and not yet original songs in ASL of the kind that Signkid is composing in BSL. I feel like there must be some - there are surely many more ASL signers out there - so I'm probably just not using the right search terms. (The term 'signsong' seems to be British only as far as I can tell, or at least I haven't found examples of Americans using it.)

I wonder how music would develop if humans didn't have a sense of hearing and instead communicated largely by signing? I feel like we would still have an appreciation of rhythm, that seems somehow more fundamental than sound even if hearing people mostly encounter it through sound. What sort of instruments would we make if we were focusing on the feeling of vibration in the body rather than tonal sound?

Or would a better analogue be something like a visual instrument, something kind of like wotagei (a japanese dance form using glowsticks associated with idol culture)...

I'd fucking love to see how a purely visual/tactile musical performance, with sign languages and whatever other tools to 'harmonise' visually, could work.

[shamandrummer]

The Mystical Journey of Shamanic Dance

Shamanic dance, a practice deeply rooted in ancient traditions, serves as a powerful means of connecting with the spirit world. This transformative art form encompasses rhythmic movements, chants, and rituals that transcend the ordinary and invite participants to explore the depths of their consciousness. This blog post delves into the origins, significance, and transformative power of shamanic dance, offering insights into how it can enrich our modern lives.

The Origins of Shamanic Dance

Shamanic dance traces its roots to prehistoric times, long before written history. It was practiced by indigenous cultures around the world, from the Siberian steppes to the Amazon rainforest. Shamans, the spiritual leaders of these communities, used dance as a medium to communicate with the spirit world, heal the sick, and guide their tribes. Each movement, rhythm, and chant was imbued with symbolic meaning, creating a language that transcended words.

The Role of the Shaman

The shaman, often regarded as a mediator between the physical and spiritual realms, played a crucial role in these rituals. Through dance, shamans entered altered states of consciousness, allowing them to journey to other worlds and communicate with spirits, ancestors, and deities. This connection provided guidance, wisdom, and healing for their communities. Cultural Variations

While the core principles of shamanic dance are universal, the practices vary significantly across cultures. In Siberia, shamans used elaborate costumes and drumming to induce trance states. In Africa, rhythmic drumming and body movements played a central role in connecting with ancestral spirits. In the Americas, indigenous tribes incorporated elements of nature, such as feathers and animal skins, into their dances to symbolize their connection with the Earth.

The Significance of Shamanic Dance

Shamanic dance is more than just a series of movements; it is a holistic experience that engages the body, mind, and spirit. This practice holds profound significance in several key areas:

Healing and Transformation

One of the primary purposes of shamanic dance is healing. By entering a trance state, shamans and participants can access deeper layers of their psyche, uncovering and releasing emotional, mental, and spiritual blockages. This process promotes physical and emotional well-being, leading to profound transformation.

Connection with Nature

Shamanic dance fosters a deep connection with the natural world. Many dances mimic the movements of animals, plants, and natural elements, reminding participants of their intrinsic bond with the Earth. This connection nurtures a sense of respect and reverence for nature, encouraging sustainable living practices.

Spiritual Awakening

Engaging in shamanic dance can lead to spiritual awakening and enlightenment. The rhythmic movements and trance states open channels to higher consciousness, allowing participants to gain insights, receive guidance, and experience a profound sense of unity with the universe.

The Elements of Shamanic Dance

Shamanic dance incorporates several key elements that create a transformative experience. Understanding these elements can enhance your appreciation and practice of this ancient art form.

Rhythm and Music

Rhythm is the heartbeat of shamanic dance. Drumming, chanting, and music create a vibrational field that facilitates trance states. The repetitive patterns of sound and movement help to quiet the mind, allowing participants to enter altered states of consciousness.

Movement and Gesture

Every movement in shamanic dance has symbolic meaning. Gestures, postures, and dances often mimic the natural world, embodying the essence of animals, plants, and elemental forces. These movements are not just physical; they are energetic expressions that connect the dancer with the spiritual realm.

Intention and Focus

Intention is a vital component of shamanic dance. Participants set clear intentions for their journey, whether it is healing, guidance, or spiritual connection. This focus directs the energy of the dance, amplifying its transformative power.

Sacred Space

Creating a sacred space is essential for shamanic dance. This can be done through rituals, the use of sacred objects, and invoking protective spirits. The sacred space provides a safe and supportive environment for participants to explore their inner worlds.

Modern Applications of Shamanic Dance

In today's fast-paced world, shamanic dance offers a powerful antidote to stress and disconnection. Its timeless principles can be adapted to suit modern needs, providing a path to holistic well-being.

Therapeutic Practices

Many therapists and healers incorporate elements of shamanic dance into their practice. Movement therapy, for instance, uses dance to help clients process emotions and trauma. The rhythmic, repetitive nature of shamanic dance can be particularly effective in promoting relaxation and emotional release.

Personal Growth

Individuals seeking personal growth and self-discovery can benefit from shamanic dance. Regular practice can enhance self-awareness, foster a deeper connection with nature, and promote spiritual development. Workshops and retreats offer opportunities for immersive experiences, guided by experienced practitioners.

Community Building

Shamanic dance can also serve as a powerful tool for community building. Group dances foster a sense of unity and shared purpose, strengthening social bonds and creating a supportive network. Community rituals and celebrations that incorporate shamanic dance can promote collective healing and transformation.

Conclusion

Shamanic dance, with its rich history and profound significance, offers a unique pathway to healing, transformation, and spiritual awakening. By embracing this ancient practice, we can reconnect with our true selves, our communities, and the natural world. Whether you are seeking personal growth, therapeutic healing, or a deeper spiritual connection, shamanic dance provides a timeless and powerful tool for transformation. As we dance, we journey beyond the physical, opening ourselves to the mysteries of the spirit world and the wisdom it holds.

[harringtonswriting]

the one with the upside down kisses | s.h.

summary: steve has something he's always wanted to try, and when a raining evening comes along, he can't help but want to try it out with you (modern!au; spidey!steve universe) pairing: steve harrington x gn!reader warning(s): some language, some slightly suggestive content word count: 2.1k notes: hi hi!!! i'm back and i'm here to humbly offer my own take on spidey!steve. emma and i have been discussing this for a while and i decided i wanted to try writing this; i love it, and i really hope that you do as well! this is just a small piece for now, but if you wanna see more spidey!steve in the future, please feel free to let me know and to send in requests for him! if this is something people wanna see more of, i do have more plans for future fics/blurbs for him as well 👀 enjoy!

...

It starts raining just after dinner. You hear the raindrops start to beat against your kitchen window as you’re doing dishes, and you don’t mind the quiet rhythmic sound of the rain hitting the glass as it mixes with the music you have playing at a low volume. It’s just you tonight–you’d come home to an empty apartment after work, a scribbled note from your boyfriend on your kitchen counter (and a bag of chips that he’d left open next to it, and a pile of his clothes on the floor) letting you know that he’d been there, but had to run off to assist with a bank robbery, but he loves you very much (and you need more snacks).

You’d slipped the note inside the drawer of your desk with all the others he’s written to you over the last few months since you’d started dating, all the different colours of sticky notes gathered together in your own little collage of Steve. Sometimes you pull them out when you’re having a bad day, or if you’re worried about his safety (especially if things look rough on the news, though you don’t take anything the Daily Bugle says to heart unless it’s something written by Nancy), to read through.

You then grab his clothes and take them to the bathroom to throw them in the hamper before you head back to the kitchen to settle into your nightly routine of getting changed out of your work clothes and into something comfy, and cooking dinner for yourself. You know Steve’ll be going on patrol after he finishes up with the bank robbery, most likely until much later, but you hope he’ll stop by after if it isn’t too late. He usually does, either swinging in through your living room window, or through his own window to change and then come over to yours (though he’s basically moved in with you at this point, so it’s not often he goes to his own place first).

Once you finish the dishes, leaving them to dry in the rack on the counter, you take your phone and sit on the couch to flip through things to watch while you scroll through your phone–you check the latest updates from #SpideyFails because Steve isn’t here to pout about accidentally clotheslining himself on a streetlight again, and then respond to some texts from Robin and look at the ten different pictures of Ozzy that Eddie’s sent you. The rain is still going strong, the sound of it ricocheting off your living room windows almost soothing as you weigh your options. Just as you finally decide on a movie to watch–which is the one you’ve been watching on repeat lately, but it’s a good movie and Steve isn’t here to poke at you for doing it–you feel your phone buzz on your leg, and the screen lights up. You can see Steve’s name attached to the message, so you grab your phone and unlock it to see what he’s sent you.

From: Webhead 🕸❤️ >>meet me on the fire escape at 10

You check the time on your phone, seeing that it’s almost eight o’clock, and look out the window at the dark city view from where you are on the couch. He’s usually done between ten and eleven on a good night, which you were hoping was the case tonight, but it’s more than a little odd that he wants you to meet him outside when it’s raining. You chew on your thumb before you text him back.

To: Webhead 🕸❤️ >>Why? It's raining

Steve’s response comes back quickly–he must be taking a break somewhere, or maybe patrol is more dead than you’d thought. You hope he’s staying as warm and dry as he can–his suit is waterproof, thankfully, but not very well insulated. And he always refuses to wear anything other than underwear underneath it. It’s caused a number of arguments during colder weather.

From: Webhead 🕸❤️ >>surprise :))

Steve doesn’t explain himself beyond that, and despite how you roll your eyes and throw your phone onto the other side of the couch as the movie continues playing. You know how much he’s going to pout if you don’t do it, but you also know how much you enjoy staying dry inside. But why does he even want you to meet him outside, anyway? Especially that late at night?

As much as you want to watch the movie you put on, you can’t help but let your mind wander as you think about what Steve might want you to meet him in the rain for. You could cross food off the list–the two of you had learned the hard way that swinging across the city carrying takeout usually ended in disaster, and if he really wanted something he’d either order it himself to be delivered to your place, or more likely he’d ask you to order it for him (with payment in kisses to follow when he got home).

Maybe he changed the colours of his suit? You didn’t think that’d be it given how attached he is to his current suit and how well it works for him (and his body, you’d absolutely noticed how good it looks on him and how good it makes him look), and besides, that’s something he can show you inside, preferably in your bedroom after he dries himself off.

Before you know it, it’s nearly ten o’clock, and your phone is buzzing on the other side of the couch where you’d thrown it, and it’s Steve again. You reach over and grab it, not bothering to pause the movie, and unlock your phone to read his message.

From: Webhead 🕸❤️ >>dont see you on the fire escape >:((

You can honestly imagine him pouting right now–you wouldn’t be able to see it under his mask, of course, but you’d know he’s pouting with his forehead wrinkled, the little furrow between his eyebrows and his soft pink lips pulled down at the corners. You shake your head, a smile on your face as you type back an answer.

To: Webhead 🕸❤️ >>It's not 10 yet, you said come out at 10

Are you messing with him? Absolutely, because you know Steve is gonna be grumbling at his phone and aggressively tapping his screen while he texts you back.

From: Webhead 🕸❤️ >>.....ok well im here NOW >>pls come out and look up babe

You put your phone down on your coffee table, getting up and walking over to the living room window in front of the fire escape. You look out, though through the rain beating against the glass you can’t make out much besides the faint glowing of the different lights in the city. You lament your nice, dry clothes for a moment before you crack the window open. And then, thinking better of things for a moment, you run and grab a few towels to leave by the window so you and Steve can dry yourselves off when you come inside, before you’re climbing over the window sill to stand on the fire escape.

The rain is cold, much colder than you’re expecting, and it runs down your face and your body and more quickly than you’d like, you’re soaked through. Remembering Steve’s last text message, you use one of your hands to try and shield your eyes as you look up above you. And that’s when you see him.

“Come here often, gorgeous?” Steve is crouching, upside down, hanging off of the fire escape above yours by a strand of webbing. You can hear the smug grin in his voice, muffled slightly by the mask on his face, and he lowers himself down so his head is level with yours.

“Come out on my own fire escape? I feel like I should be asking you if you come here often, Bug Boy,” you tease him, and Steve gasps exaggeratedly, one hand leaving the webbing to smack into the spider symbol splashed across his chest.

“Bug Boy? Really? I come here to make sure your neighbourhood is safe, and that’s the best you can come up with?” he asks, which has you laughing. He sighs dramatically, before the hand on his chest goes back to hold the line of webbing. “I’ll take that over what Goblin and the Bugle were saying about me today, though.”

His voice is a little lower, a little more subdued when he says that, which tells you that whatever had been said had gotten to him today. He normally shrugs it off, laughs off whatever insults or vitriol gets spewed his way, but some days it gets to him. Today seems to be one of those days. “Hey, hey,” you tell him, stepping closer to him so your right side up face is directly in front of his upside down face. “You’re my Bug Boy, and you’re the best one the city could ever ask for. You’re my hero. I’m lucky to have you.” You mean it; you know how absolutely lucky you are to have Steve in your life; sure, it’s a hundred times more chaotic with him and all the craziness being Spider-man brings, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world. You love him more than you ever thought possible, and your love for him grows every day you’re together.

“Maybe you could show me just how lucky?” He seems to have gotten back his sense of humour, and you can imagine his eyebrows waggling underneath his mask. Normally you’d crack a joke back, especially with the cold rain pouring down your body, but you’ll do that next time. Today you’ll show him how much you love him.

You reach up and, as gently as you can, reach under the neck of his suit to find the seam for his mask. Once your fingers find it, you pull it down until the bottom half of his face is exposed, the mask resting just above the tip of his nose. One of his hands grabs one of yours then, before you can tug it down anymore, and you stop. He brings that hand to his mouth, placing a soft kiss to your palm. His lips are warm against your skin, and you can see the little bit of stubble on his chin and upper lip; the pretty brown moles dotting his cheeks and the sliver of his neck you can see.

You bring your other hand up to cup his cheek, and then you’re leaning forward to press your lips against his own. Water had started to run down his face, so they’re a bit wet on both ends. Steve’s lips are warm and soft against your own, though, and before you know it your thumbs are rubbing along his jawline as his tongue is pushing its way into your mouth. You let it, tilting your head to the side to deepen the kiss. You can feel the lack of oxygen going to your head, though, and you regretfully break apart. Your breath floats around the two of you, the heat mixing with the chilly air and the rain, and Steve’s grin is impossibly wide.

“Always wanted to try that,” he tells you, letting go of the webbing completely to drop down onto his feet in front of you. You knock your shoulder into his, laughing for a moment before a chill runs down your spine. “Oh, shit, right, it’s raining. Get inside and get warm, baby, I just gotta grab my bag and uh, stuff.”

You absolutely want to get out of the rain so you climb back inside, grabbing a towel to dry yourself off as best you can before you head for your bedroom to change into dry clothes. You hear the window slam shut a few minutes later, a few muffled curses as Steve no doubt faceplants again coming inside, and you grab some dry clothes for him to change into while you hang his suit to dry in the bathroom, and then the two of you can crawl into bed together while he tells you about his day.

(You don’t say anything, though, when you notice later that a new framed photo has made its way onto your night stand, one of the two of you kissing in the pouring rain, beside some cold medicine and a glass of water and a brand new note for your collection)

[writerofthewinds]

Jason grace with an Arabic boyfriend.

A bunch of headcanons about him having an Arabic boyfriend. Although it says, boyfriend, this can apply to all genders @starlightshadowsworldadowsworld, I love your content, and I follow you and think that might interest you. since you are arab and Muslim.

Tell me if you want a part 2!

Jason loves listening to his boyfriend speak Arabic. Even though he doesn't understand the language, he finds the sound of it incredibly beautiful and soothing. Sometimes, when they're lying in bed together, his boyfriend will whisper sweet nothings to him in Arabic, and Jason will just close his eyes and bask in the sound of it.

Jason thinks his boyfriend is incredibly sexy when he belly dances. He loves watching his body's fluid, rhythmic movements and how effortlessly he seems to move. He's even tried to learn a few moves to dance with his boyfriend and impress him.

Jason enjoys trying out his boyfriend's favorite Arabic dishes. He loves the combination of spices and flavors and finds it a refreshing change from the food he grew up with. Sometimes, they'll cook together, and his boyfriend will teach him some of the traditional recipes passed down in his family for generations.

Jason is fascinated by Arabic calligraphy. He loves the intricate, flowing designs and how each letter fits perfectly with the others. He's even tried his hand at it a few times with mixed results.

Jason's boyfriend has excellent humor and loves telling him jokes in Arabic. Even though Jason doesn't understand most of them, he can't help but laugh at how his boyfriend delivers them, with a twinkle in his eye and a mischievous grin.

Jason has learned a few phrases in Arabic just so he can surprise his boyfriend. He loves seeing the way his boyfriend's face lights up when he hears Jason speaking his native language, and it makes him feel closer to him.

Jason thinks his boyfriend looks incredibly handsome in traditional Arabic clothing. He loves how the colors and patterns come alive on his boyfriend's skin and how regal and proud he looks when wearing it.

Jason has attended a few Arabic music concerts with his boyfriend and loves how passionate and emotional the music is. Even though he doesn't understand the lyrics, he can feel the intensity and depth of feeling that the performers put into their music, which moves him deeply.

Jason's boyfriend is a devout Muslim and respects and admires how he practices his faith. He's learned much about Islam from his boyfriend, giving him a greater appreciation for the religion and culture.

Jason loves hearing his boyfriend recite Arabic poetry. He's always been drawn to the beauty and complexity of the language, and hearing it put into verse is like music to his ears. His boyfriend's recitations are always so passionate and heartfelt, and it's something that Jason finds incredibly romantic.

Jason has learned a lot about Arabic history and culture from his boyfriend. He loves hearing stories about his boyfriend's family and ancestors and how they've overcome adversity and thrived despite their challenges. He's gained a deep respect and admiration for the resilience and strength of the Arabic people.

Jason finds the Arabic language to be incredibly romantic. Even though he doesn't understand it, he loves how it sounds when his boyfriend speaks. Sometimes, when they're alone, he'll ask his boyfriend to recite love poems to him in Arabic, so he can hear the words and feel their meaning wash over him.

Jason has attended a few Arabic weddings with his boyfriend and loves how they celebrate love and family. The food is always excellent, the music is lively and fun, and everyone is so happy and festive. He's always grateful to be included in these special occasions and feels honored to be a part of his boyfriend's culture and traditions.

Jason loves watching Arabic movies with his boyfriend. Even though he needs subtitles to understand what's being said, he loves the drama, the humor, and the way the stories unfold. He's become a big fan of Arabic cinema and loves discussing the different films and directors with his boyfriend.

Jason has learned to play a few Arabic musical instruments to accompany his boyfriend when he sings or plays. He loves the haunting, melodic sounds of the oud and the qanun and enjoys experimenting with different rhythms and melodies. It's a way for him to connect with his boyfriend on a deeper level and share his passion for music and culture.