#joyce cummings

[mariocki]

New Scotland Yard: Shock Tactics (1.6, LWT, 1972)

"Nobody's hurt. I went down to get the truth and I got it."

"The truth? Or a conviction?"

"Both. Well, alright, we already knew the truth, but this way we get our conviction too."

"Not 'our' conviction. And the Crown only gets it if this stands up."

"Well, why shouldn't it, it was voluntary. No duress, no threats, no promises."

"That's what you say."

[balderdasch]

WHAT THE FUCK

I WAS JOKING I WAS JOKING

theres no way that hey shitass wanna see me speedbridge was actually inspired by James Joyce's Ulysses chapter 15 Circe when the Motorman tells him to flip then when he does hes like "ur bad u suck close shave no thoroughfare must take up Sandow's exerciser again bitchass hattrick more like shoetrick"

this is fucking silly im in shock

@blossoms-and-petrichor ik ur like a person i dont know but u seem to have cool literature opinions

also the usuals @totally-not-allie @rat-daemon @parsleywrites @andi-o-geyser @jamifed ulysses just got like 10x better

im reeling

[letterboxd-loggd]

Blithe Spirit (1945) David Lean

December 12th 2023

[jonquilisms]

five poems for november

it's sunday morning in early november // philip schultz

my november guest // robert frost

who are you,little i // e.e. cummings

any common desolation // ellen bass

on the shortest days // joyce sutphen

[honey-flustered]

Kinktober Day 9: Body Worship

DBF!Jim Hopper x Artist!Fem!Reader

Summary: Hooper becomes your muse.

Warnings: age gap (Hopper 40s, Reader 20s), unethical relationship, cheating, c*ck worship, cum eating, cumming untouched, facef*cking, body worship, hopper has a big one (i know it), dacryphilia

You’re sitting at your dining room table sketching away when you felt a heavy hand on your head, tussling your hair. You quickly place your arms over your work, looking back at the unexpected guest with an anxious smile.

Hopper gives you a warm genuine smile. He’d come over for dinner by your father’s invitation with his girlfriend, Joyce Byers. When you learned of his relationship status, you were quite disappointed to say the least. You want to be happy for him as he appears to be a lot healthier and happier but because he’s not with you, it doesn’t settle right. Because of this you ignored him the entire night.

“Hey, kid,” He says with a soft chuckle at your startled look. His eyes squint at the way you hid your sketchbook. “Whatcha got there?”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” You sigh, trying to feign indifference. “You wouldn’t like it.”

“No, I’m really curious,” He insists, sitting in a chair to face you. “I always care for your art.”

You clutched the book to your chest before slowly releasing it for him to take. It’s erotica art. The male vampire lover similar-looking to Hopper feeding from the breast of a woman similar-looking to you.

“That’s pretty good stuff.” He says, much to your surprise.

“I-it is.”

“Yeah,” He laughs. “Is this why you were afraid to show me?”

Your eyes bug out of your head. Did he catch on that the drawing looks similar to him? It’s so obvious! Of course, he knows.

“Because of a little nudity?” He continues. So he didn’t catch on, after all.

“Well, yeah,” You follow through with his observation. “People tend to get a bit uncomfortable with nudity so I didn’t want to do that to you.”

“I don’t mind nudity especially when it comes to incredible art like yours. The human body’s a natural thing.”

“Exactly! That’s actually the concept I’m going for with my art. Natural bodies, sexualities, and kinks. It’s about what makes humans find beauty and attraction or lack thereof beyond the human flesh.”

“I think it’s brilliant. Maybe a little above my intelligence level but I know you’ve got it.”

“Actually, I think you might be the only one who understands around here,” You admit. “My parents…they just think this whole art thing’s unsustainable. But I think with this art installation project coming up, I can prove them wrong. Do you…do you think you can help me, Sheriff Hopper?”

“How could I help?” He asks.

“Be my muse, pretty please.”

And when he agreed he’d no clue what he’d signed himself up for. For you to be so bold to ask your father’s best friend to be your muse when it meant seeing him in the nude, he couldn’t fathom you asking such a thing. And yet now here he was in your small studio contemplating on whether he should go through with removing the remainder of his clothing.

You place your pencil down onto the canvas’s utensil holder, approaching his tall frame. “What’s wrong? Do you need help taking off your pants?”

He swallows convulsively. “When I said I’d be your muse, I thought you just needed me to hold a quick pose…fully clothed.”

“My art concept’s about natural bodies, Sheriff,” You grab unto the waist band of his jeans that had been slightly undone to reveal his white boxers. You drag his pants down a little to where his rather sizable member rests above the open fly. He’s growing hard. “You knew that though. It’s exactly why you agreed to becoming my muse—so I can worship you.”

You palm him through his underwear and he groans, taking your hand away to place them over his hairy chest.

“I knew you as a teenager.” He protests.

“I was 19.” You roll your eyes, using your free hand to hook into his underwear and pull him closer.

“Your father wouldn’t approve.” He argues, a moan bubbling in his throat when you begin to kiss on his chest and swirl a tongue around his nipple. He squeezes your hand a little, releasing as if it is an expression of his diminishing restraint.

You pull away with a wet pop, a line of saliva connecting as you stare up at him with doe eyes. “When have I ever cared what my father approves of?”

“I have a girlfriend.” He counters.

You move your lips to his ear, hotly whispering, “So do I.”

Your lips find each other’s in a sloppy make out session of tongues and clashing teeth. Your hands roam his body, caressing his belly then slipping down his underwear to jerk him off. Even though, you can’t see it, you can tell that it’s not only deathly thick and long but super veiny, too, with a wicked curve. No wonder Joyce had been limping all throughout dinner that day.

You break away from his lips, peppering wet kisses all over his stomach and dipping your tongue in his bellybutton. When you’re finally on your knees, you rub the base of him through the fabric. You bite your lip in anticipation as you finally take initiative and pull him out of his confines, mouth dropping open at the look of him. Just as veiny as you thought with heavy, sagging balls to match. You’re drooling, licking your lips and staring up at him one last time before focusing your eyes on the leaking tip and enclosing your mouth around him.

He cradles the back of your head with one hand while the other pounds a fist against your not-so-high ceilings, a loud growl escaping his clenched teeth.

You bob your head quickly, dramatically gagging on him and its loud and messy but neither of you care. Soon, he’s fucking your mouth both hands interlocked on the back of your head while you do a mix of massaging his clothed thick thighs or raking your sharp nails down his pudgy tummy. Tears prick your eyes as you struggle to take him but you’ll take whatever he gives you even if it kills you.

You don’t even need to touch yourself as the juices flow out of you, streaming down your inner thighs. You’re humping the air, core contracting around nothing as his whines are the only thing fueling you to near your end.

“Fuuuck, I’m cumming.” He hisses, rapid final thrusts of his wide cock into your mouth. He holds you down, your nose embedded in his pubic hair and you taste his hot spunk shoot down your throat. Just from that, you cum untouched, the act of being used so filthily making it possible.

You’re limited in breathing as you inhale through your nose and your jaw hurts but it’s all worth it as your eyes roll back and you quiver as much as your body could under his hold.

He finally releases your head, pulling his cock out of your wet mouth with webs of saliva to follow as you gasp for air.

“Was I inspiring enough for you?” He asks cockily.

Your throat itches as you let out a low giggle. “You’re perfect.”

[hauntedwitch04]

Baby making with Daddy

Steve Harrington x Reader

Words: about 1.0k words

Warnings: smut, sexy time in the bathroom, and baby fever of Steve Fucking Harrington

Author’s note: Hi loves! I finally managed to write some more after the crazy week I had. It's note my best work, but I hope you like it, your witch Becky

Requests are open I Ask

My masterlist

Join the Taglist

If you like my works, consider to buy me a coffee - Patreon submission

KINKTOBER ...........-..........KINKTOBER TAGLIST 2023

DAY 3: Sex pollen

"Now be quiet baby, or everyone will hear you moaning for Daddy as he puts a baby in your lap. "

Whispers Steve, as he pulls down your panties, in the Hoppers' bathroom where you have been hiding.

You ended up in this situation because of your husband's baby fever, which now seems to have taken over his entire brain.

When you arrived at Jim and Joyce's house today, you knew right away that there was going to be a problem, because you saw that Jonathan and Nancy had brought with them, for the first time, the daughter who had been born to them a few months ago. Immediately you had gone to see the newcomer, and you couldn't help but immediately fall in love with those soft little cheeks of hers and her toothless smile, but you hadn't missed your husband's glances.

In part, you were shocked that it lasted so long, but then at some point in the afternoon, when everyone had decided to hang out in the garden for a while, he had said that he wasn't feeling too well, and he asked you to go with him, and right away you understood his intentions.

You were not even in time to close the bathroom door, that your hips were already pressed against the sink and his lips were already leaving a long streak of saliva that went from your right earlobe to the hollow of your breast.

"God, love seeing you with that little girl is driving me crazy. Seeing you with her in your arms, or playing with her, I can't help but think if she was ours. I swear you'll be pregnant by tonight, if it's the last thing I do." He whispers into your neck as he lifts the skirt of your dress and with expert fingers grazes your center, already in involuntary spasms of pleasure and wetness from his words and gestures.

"Feel how wet you are baby. Who made you so wet?" He asks rhetorically, as he massages one of your breasts from above your dress.

"You daddy, you did it." You gasp as you try not to lose your wits, though it may be too late now.

"That's right baby, and now Daddy is going to fuck you so hard that you even forget your own name, and then put a beautiful baby boy or girl inside you. Do you like that idea?" He asks as he unzips his pants, and slowly massages his member, to prepare himself.

"Yes Daddy, please make me a mommy and you a daddy, I can't wait to have a baby of our own." Moan as he spins you around and pulls down your panties, now rendered useless because of how wet they are.

"Now be quiet baby, or everyone will hear you moaning for Daddy as he puts a baby in your lap. " He says in a sensual voice as he bends you over the bathroom sink. You feel his cock graze your entrance, then enter hard.

Immediately, however, all I feel is pure pleasure, as from how aroused you are, his member has slipped inside you smoothly. Steve immediately begins to move at a brisk pace as he grabs your hair, previously left neatly gathered, in a rudimentary tail to pull you up next to him, causing me to arch my back. He, as I pull you closer, lowers himself, making sure to meet you halfway, to kiss you with all the passion he has.

His thrusts continue to be strong, and you struggle more and more to hold back your moans. You feel your orgasm coming faster and faster and more and more violently, and you can't help but tell your husband, who immediately chuckles with amusement.

"Cum baby, let go, don't worry." He says, speeding up his thrusts, knowing that her orgasm was also now in the home stretch. "But know that this is not over, when we get home, I will fuck you so hard that besides being pregnant, you will have left the mark of your body her our mattress." He continued.

His words are too much, and immediately you are hit by an endless wave of pleasure. You feel every nerve in your body relax under that rush, as your pussy clenches tightly around his cock, wanting to squeeze every single drop of semen inside him into you. Your orgasm affects his, causing him to release everything inside you. You feel him lean against your back, before leaving a kiss between your shoulder blades.

"What's the word?" He asks rhetorically as he gives one last thrust, matching his cock for the umpteenth time against your cervix, making you moan.

"Thank you, Daddy." You whisper, while your voice is still slurred with pleasure. He slides his cock out of you, then continues talking

"That's my baby girl, now put your panties back on and let's go outside, I wouldn't want them to start suspecting something." He tells you, as he closes his pants, and looks one last time at your pussy, where some of his seed is starting to drip out, to pick it up with a finger and put it back in.

"Like they didn't hear you." You comment looking for your panties, to find them thrown across the bathroom, trying not to be distracted by his gesture.

"Watch your mouth baby, because it's not a given that you cum tonight if you don't play nice with Daddy." He says, slapping you on the ass, after you just put on your underwear, before leaving the bathroom.

Eventually a few weeks later it turned out that Steve had kept his promise and actually succeeded that night, even though you believe it had been the time in the Hoppers' bathroom.

TAGLIST

@digitalhearts @samanddeansannoyingsis @minkiles @ash04w3 @123345566 @the-house-of-rose-and-ember @nightfiress @theyluvtrinity21 @supernatural-lvr @starsval

[cultreslut]

joan baez, baptism, 1968

a collection of songs and poems recorded by joan baez, featuring poetry by william blake, e.e. cummings, federic garcía lorca, james joyce, and walt whitman

archive.org / discogs

[silver-screen-divas]

Film and TV beauties. JOI LANSING

Joi Lansing was born Joyce Renee Brown on April 6, 1929 in Salt Lake City, Utah.

She was an actress, model and singer.

Lansing's film career began in 1948, and in 1952, she played an uncredited role in MGM's Singin' in the Rain. In 1955, Joi landed a recurring role as Shirley Swanson on the television series The Bob Cummings Show (1955). It was this series that showed everyone that she could actually act well. Because of this series, Joi began to get larger roles in films such as The Brave One (1956), Hot Cars (1956), and So You Think the Grass Is Greener (1956), all in 1956. In the opening sequence of Orson Welles 's Sed de mal (1958), she appeared as Zita.

After appearing in the comedy film Who Was That Lady? (1960), Joi landed the role of Goldie in the television series Klondike (1960). However, most viewers remember her as Lester Flatt's wife in The Beverly Hillbillies (1962), in which she appeared from 1965 to 1968. As Gladys Flatt, her beauty even surpassed Donna Douglas as Elly May Clampett.

Lansing has a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame in Los Angeles for his contributions to television.

[romanscoming]

RUE’S PORN LINKS -VOL. 1

INSPIRED BY DAISY’S LINKS; HERE

^ I JS NEED JONATHAN.. CRAVING HIM, MY LITTLE SUBBY BABY BOY 😋.

NEW TAGLIST | REQUEST | WATTPAD

REQUESTS OPEN FOR ANY CHARACTER.

________ jonathan all pussy drunk and weak,, while humping his dick in between our thighs, all subbed up and doesn’t even know where to touch us& cumming all on the back of our thighs and a little on our ass? 🤭.

we love to js praise him while pumping his cock up and down, all wet and sticky as we cover his mouth not letting him get to say anything just listening to us praise him and tell him how much a love “our cock”

the dreams jonathan has 😖.

he’s so touched starved, wanting to be buried inside of you, and touching every single body part of ours.. but reminders we gotta stay quiet.

It’s either him or you jerking his dick as he cums all over your chess and making you rub it in or eat it up.

finding season 1 jonathan in the forest taking pictures, and surprising him by pushing him on the floor and bouncing on his dick.

he just please us, spatting on our pussy and ass, licking it back up and playing in it.

cumming onto our shirt and chess as he shoves himself into our mouth and cumming inside that too 😛.

2 subs, jonathan and us,, rubbing clothed.. leaking and wetting both panties and boxers.

he just fucking loves to help us, grabbing ahold of our ass, waist or hip helping you bounce and ride his dick.

using modern!jonathan as our cam-boy,, our own personal fucktoy.

us jacking him off with his boxers on to tease him, while his hand thrown back against our shoulder.

him telling us he gonna cum while we js jack him off even faster while praising him, “there he is..😁”

dress up and play house but doctors addition with johnny!?

while will and joyce is away we like to play around with jon on the sofa.

sometimes jonathan is rewarded to cum inside of our cunt❤️.

we’re both just horny, touch starved and needy..

pegging him by letting him ride us while you jack him off.

letting him coat our chess and breast with ropes from his cock,, all of that cum :).

jonathan has gotta b one of the best head givers in hawkins.

being his gamer!gf and stuffing his head between our legs making him breathe in your scent.

he js loves being a goodboy doing whatever he is told,

jonathan has a breast kink, he loves looking and touching and suck and kissing him. || AND THIS TWO

high jonathan, all needy, sleepy and touchy

gamer boy!jonathan and gamer girl little pictures.

original position just in reverse 😖.

missing each other, being away hawkins and california miles and miles, finnaly seeing eachother and getting to have sex together and put him fully down.

[convoloutedinjoke]

Rating Disco Elysium characters based on how funny I think their kinks have the potential to be

Harry: the DSM of getting off on things. He likes piss he likes feet he likes the idea of being soooo small and tiny you could step on him like a bug, and while none of these things are funny on their own they are when he does them on account of his being a clown. He would also fuck a clown, incidentally. 8/10, knocking two points off because this lacks the element of surprise.

Kim: Leather and uniform fetishist. No wise guy shenanigans here. Will fuck you serious will fuck you professional. His strap is extremely normal, his daddy/boy dynamics are not a laughing matter. 4/10 because he wants to have relations with his car and is embarrassed about it

Jean: No idea what gets him off but he genuinely believes whatever it is means he’s evil and weird, making him the proud owner of The Worlds Funniest Kinks. 9/10, steals mustard from the homeless without remorse but has a moral crisis every time he cums while fantasising about getting gangbanged in a holding cell. Sad!

Trant: not funny. too passionately open about the things hes into. if you tried to make light of his trampling fetish, he would recite the wikipedia entry on cock and ball torture to you from memory and look delighted to be sharing his interests with you the whole time. 3/10

Klaasje: not funny to most on account of being conventionally attractive and good at billing her sexual encounters as suffused with romantic, literary ennui but it SHOULD be funny to be such a Lana Del Rey motherfucker in the sheets so I’m pulling rank and saying 7/10

Joyce: cringefail class dynamics fantasies. Bodice rippers and the opposite of CEO erotica feature heavily here. This wouldn’t be funny if not for the fact she literally owns a yacht. Also wants to get stabbed a little bit. 5/10, probably read the elysium version of lady chatterlys lover as a teen and still jerks off about it.

Garte: a normal man if there ever was one. has kinks but they aren't funny. wears a bra sometimes and it looks cute. 1/10 probably fun to hook up with and a decent communicator

The Deserter: given the 5 decades of loneliness, im willing to bet his brain has rewired itself into having some interesting potentially bug-related reward pathways but whatever he's got going on is too sad to laugh about. 0/10 :(

Sunday Friend: his kinks would be funny on anyone else, but he’s very very very boring. 2/10, you can pay a twink to do raceplay with you, but it wont dispel the grey miasma of being a mid tier government employee

evrart: I don’t know honestly, the lying and manipulating and petty power plays scrambled my brain despite the rube-Goldbergian elements of all his little tasks. Maybe he’d do predicament bondage? Uh. 3/10. Id let him hit, but he also has kind of a Wallace n Grommit thing going on so I can’t say 0

Steban: big on role playing but isn’t very good at it. Starts giggling halfway through when it becomes apparent how silly the fake muttonchops are. 4/10, less funny than it could be because he has a sense of humour about it

Ulixes: probably has a guro thing but also hasn’t had sex since he started focusing on reading theory and feints at the sight of real blood. This should be less funny than pretending to be Kras Mazov in bed, but he takes himself extremely seriously. 6/10 until he starts getting laid again, then still 6/10 but for other reasons

Gary: cuck chair. 10/10. I am not elaborating because I’m tired now, but someone else made a convincing post at one point

[lauren-ce]

Olivia and Joyce bdsm sessions but instead of ropes and whips and etc, Olivia installs pc games on Joyce's software and plays them, gradually cranking the graphics output higher and higher until Joyce overheats and cums from Olivia forcing her to ray-trace a cyberpunk city made out of water and endlessly reflecting neon

(And to cool down after play, Olivia loads up doom or a similarly retro game)

Alternatively, a co-op fps game where every kill gives Joyce electrostim

And for edging purposes: Joyce is only able to nut when she kills a Soulsborne boss. By the time she beats Malenia, she's [REDACTED]

[sweetblinginrose]

𝒑𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒕,

(Jonathan Byers x PlayboyModel fem!reader)

summary: Jonathan's first job in California is not what his friend promised, being a little more... dirty.

word count: 3,3k

warning: +18 small age difference (Jonathan is of legal age), nudes, porn magazine, embarrassing erection, blowjob, cum on face.

a/n: well, like, what can i say about this? obv, i wasn't inspired by anyone. it just popped into my head while thinking about another fanfic. ig it's like a headcanon that Jonathan used to work as a nude photographer or something. idk, just enjoy, ig lol ;p

masterlist

━━ ✧♡✧ ━━ ✧♡✧ ━━ ✧♡✧ ━━

He was holding the letter with a mixture of hope and nervousness. The rough texture of the paper contrasted with the smoothness of his fingers, which caressed it almost unconsciously while his mind wandered between the possibilities that letter represented. It was more than just a piece of paper; it was the key to a future he longed for, a job in California that could change his life and that of his mother, Joyce, forever.

Money had always been a delicate subject at home. Joyce, with her job, managed to make ends meet, but always just barely. Jonathan wanted more than just survival; he wanted to live. That's why when Argyle, his long-haired friend with a scent of cheerful herbs, suggested that he apply to that photography agency, he didn't think twice. Argyle, who knew more about plants than people, had seen something in Jonathan, a creative spark that deserved to be explored and shared with the world.

The letter was from 'California Play-graphy', an agency unknown to the boy, with an incredible eagerness to know the answer it contained. Jonathan remembered Argyle's words: "Brother, your photos tell stories that words cannot. You have to show that to the world." And so, with a resume full of dreams and a letter that weighed more than gold, Jonathan found himself on the threshold of his future.

With a deep sigh, he broke the seal and unfolded the letter. The first words danced before his eyes: "Dear Jonathan, we are pleased to inform you...". A shout of joy escaped his lips, resonating in the small room, where Willy and Jane were also making a school project, and surely in the heart of Joyce, who eagerly awaited a package in the kitchen. Jonathan had landed a job, and with it, the promise of a fresh start.

The days leading up to Jonathan's first photo shoot at the agency passed slowly, each second filled with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety. As the appointed day approached, Jonathan's nerves intensified, and he found solace in the company of Argyle, his friend and mentor in the art of calm. Together, they sat on Argyle's old leather sofa, which creaked under their weight, sharing stories and laughter. In their hands, a joint, which they lit with the solemnity of a ritual. Smoke wafted in spirals, carrying away some of the tension Jonathan felt. Argyle, always the philosopher, told him, "Relax, brother. Photography is like this plant, you have to let it flow."

And so, with the background sound of Peter Tosh singing about freedom and struggle, Jonathan allowed himself to let go. The lyrics of "Legalize It" or "Equal Rights" filled the room, and for a moment, everything seemed possible. Argyle, with his street wisdom and heart of gold, reminded Jonathan that life was more than just worries and that every photo he would take would be a reflection of his soul.

When the day finally arrived, Jonathan rose with the dawn. The first rays of sun filtered through the window, bathing the room in a golden light that promised a new beginning. With his camera hanging from his shoulder and the rest of his equipment under his arm, and a nervous smile, he bid farewell to his brother and Jane. He stepped out, and there was Argyle, the one responsible for bringing him to the studios and bringing him back. They drove while Argyle smoked until they reached the giant buildings, causing the long-haired guy to take off his sunglasses and lazily look up with his red eyes, seeing a giant Playboy logo, but since he was so high, he didn't pay much attention.

When they finally arrived, Argyle got out and started looking around, completely taken by the desserts of half-naked women, giving Jon a friendly pat on the back and telling him, "Go and capture the magic, brother."

Jonathan entered the gigantic building, having to go through two checks by giant security guards, reaching his destination. The room Jonathan had found was the epitome of minimalist elegance. The walls, painted in immaculate white, reflected the artificial light emanating from the wide spotlights, creating a serene and almost ethereal atmosphere. There were no paintings or decorations; the beauty lay in the simplicity of the space.

In the center, an asymmetrical velvet sofa stood as the centerpiece of the room. Its modern and daring design invited contemplation as much as rest. The light gray velvet seemed to change with the light, adding depth and texture to the environment. Despite its luxurious appearance, the sofa promised comfort, with soft cushions that seemed to embrace the body. Next to it, on a low glass table, rested a transparent cube. Inside, a pile of bright red cherries, each one a little balloon of sweetness, awaited to be enjoyed. The simplicity of the cube contrasted with the richness of the cherries, creating an intriguing and tempting focal point.

To the right, a producer stood, his gaze fixed on you, the woman who would be Jonathan's model, quite beautiful. His posture was that of someone accustomed to making quick and precise decisions, and his presence commanded respect. By your side, you shone like a golden vision. Your long, flowing robe cascaded from your shoulders to the floor, the golden fabric capturing the light and making you sparkle with every movement. The elegance of your attire contrasted with the informality of the producer, but together, they formed a dynamic and complementary duo.

Jonathan knew that this room, with its atmosphere of calm and careful aesthetics, was the perfect place for his first photo shoot. Here, his art would come to life. Or so he thought.

The producer, with his refined air and delicate gestures, glided through the room with the grace of a dancer. His eyes lit up at the sight of Jonathan, and with a warm smile, he approached him. "Bonjour, mon cher Jonathan," he said with a French accent that enveloped each word like a hug. Their cheeks met in a traditional greeting, two gentle kisses, one on each cheek, that resonated with a resounding muah.

As he spoke, his hands floated in the air, drawing shapes that accompanied his words. "Your talent is magnifique, and we are très excited to work with you," he continued, mixing French with English in a way that seemed almost poetic. Jonathan, although surprised by the effusiveness of the greeting, couldn't help but feel a little uncomfortable.

The producer, with his silk shirt and matching pocket square, was the embodiment of Parisian elegance, even thousands of kilometers away from France. "We are going to create art today, do you understand?" he declared confidently, guiding Jonathan to the set while continuing to give instructions, his voice a melodic murmur that promised an unforgettable session. "This work should be a dream come true for a jeune homme hétéro like you, no?" he laughed as he pointed at what Jonathan had to do. With his watch marking the rhythm of a busy day, he apologized with hurried elegance. "My apologies, I have an urgent matter to attend to," he said in his charming mix of French and English. With a gesture of his hand and one last approving glance at Jonathan, he slid out of the set, leaving behind a trace of his distinctive perfume and the promise of returning soon.

Jonathan and you, a few years older than him, with your golden robe, were left alone, surrounded by the pristine whiteness of the room. The absence of the producer filled the space with expectant silence. You turned to Jonathan, your eyes shining with a mixture of surprise and complicity in the unexpected situation. "I guess it's just you and me now," you said, with a smile that exuded confidence and grace. Jonathan nodded, feeling the weight of responsibility settle on his shoulders. However, your calmness and imposing presence gave him strength.

"We are going to make this session memorable," declared Jonathan, adjusting his camera with steady hands. You nodded and took your position on the set, your golden robe reflecting the light as if woven with threads from the same sun.

Jonathan began the session, with a sense of normality, although he sensed that something was not right. Suddenly, you raised a hand, requesting a pause. "The session is without the robe," you said in a soft but firm voice, quite seductive. Jonathan stopped, a little surprised, but nodded in understanding, thinking that you would be wearing an outfit underneath. You gracefully slid out of the golden robe, revealing your fully exposed chest, as well as your entire torso, wearing only a transparent thread-like fabric that 'covered' your intimate area, if that can be called covering.

In the warmth of the light emanating from the spotlights, your bronzed skin and your generous breasts merged into an illuminated tone, with no trace of bikini lines to disrupt the harmony of your smooth and sinuous skin. Every curve of your body was carefully sculpted, leaving no room for imperfections. The absence of hair left your skin impeccable, highlighting its smoothness. Your generously sized breasts stood proudly, crowned by pink nipples that contrasted perfectly with the tone of your lips. Jonathan, captivated by the vision of this goddess in front of him, could barely tear his gaze away from your abdomen, slowly descending until it met the tiny thread-like thong that barely covered the essentials. Without showing any hint of discomfort, you approached Jonathan with overwhelming confidence, asking him if he was truly prepared for the photo shoot.

Without waiting for a response, you reclined on the sofa, unleashing a wave of anticipation in the photographer. Every movement you made was calculated, every pose was a game of seduction meant to ignite the viewer's imagination. Your breasts, as they moved gracefully, seemed to whisper secrets to the wind, tempting the camera to capture your provocative essence.

Jonathan's tent, unable to contain his growing excitement, began to rise, oblivious to his will. Desperately seeking a way to hide his agitation, he crouched slightly, justifying the gesture as an attempt to improve the angle of the shot. In that moment, amidst the visual ecstasy, he was lost, unsure of what to do to conceal his growing desire.

His choice, palpable against his thighs, was a blazing reminder of his desperate need. The absence of female companionship for so long had heightened his desire, leaving him in a state of almost uncontrollable excitement. Jonathan's labored breathing did not go unnoticed by you, your attentive gaze, who, concerned about his sudden distress, placed a soft and elegantly manicured hand on his shoulder. The slight brush of your hand against his skin sent waves of electric sensations through Jon, moistening his underwear slightly with the pre-cum escaping from the tip of his sensitive bulge. The slight friction against his underwear only intensified his ecstasy, plunging him into a state of overwhelming pleasure.

From your point of view, Jonathan seemed on the verge of fainting, a concern that soon became a reality as the boy lost consciousness due to overexcitement. Skillfully, you held him as best you could and placed him on the sofa, watching him with concern as you considered your options. The idea of seeking medical help crossed your mind, but before you could act, something caught your attention. As you stooped to pick up a fallen object, you inadvertently exposed your buttocks and inner thighs close to the photographer's face. A nervous cough escaped from the boy's lips as he pretended to be asleep, trying to hide his growing excitement. However, once again, his tent gave him away before your eyes, who now faced an uncomfortable and tense situation.

After the awkward moment, you chose to act as if nothing had happened, aware that these situations were quite common in your profession. You decided to give Jonathan a few minutes to calm down, although you noticed that this boy was different: shy, charming, and respectful, as he made no comments about your body, which you quite liked.

After some time, you returned to face the camera, but this time the session took an unexpected turn. You incorporated cherries into your poses, strategically placing them on your nipples, causing the pink juice to seductively slide down your skin. With sensual movements, you bit the cherries and slid them over your abdomen, even above your intimate area. For Jonathan, this was completely different from what he had imagined photographing, but at the same time, it was exciting and fascinating. You, without averting your gaze from the camera, began to lightly touch yourself with the cherries, asking Jonathan if the image looked good. Unable to articulate a coherent response, Jonathan simply nodded with a "uhu" between his slightly parted lips, completely absorbed in the tempting vision before him.

Jonathan's excitement drove him to want to explore further, so he proposed to you to strike more provocative poses he had seen in old magazines. You readily accepted, but it soon became clear that you did not understand Jonathan's instructions, leading you to ask for help. With some hesitation, Jonathan approached you and asked permission to touch you, eliciting a playful giggle from you. No one had been so considerate with you before. With delicate, long hands, Jonathan positioned himself between your thighs, gently parting them to leave you fully exposed. With his other arm, he tilted your torso slightly towards the sofa, causing your buttocks to inadvertently brush against his erection, which was now vigorous again. You made no comment, as you were not at all displeased with the size, on the contrary, you began to find it attractive, especially now that it was positioned this way for the photos.

Jonathan lamented with great embarrassment, moving away from you.

He was preparing to take the photo when you removed the scant fabric covering your intimacy, leaving it completely exposed in front of Jon, who felt all the tension in his body melt away. The intimacy shared in that moment created a special bond between you, a connection that went beyond the photo shoot.

Confused but intrigued by your proposal, Byers asked you what you were doing. With a mischievous look and a suggestive smile, you responded that you wanted to experiment even more and find out if Jonathan was really the best. This statement ignited a spark in Jonathan, who let the camera rest on his neck and approached you, his palpable excitement filling the air. "What do you mean?" he murmured.

Your response unleashed a wave of desire in Jonathan, whose breathing became faster and shallower at your passionate touch on his tight and erect jeans. His hips instinctively moved closer to you, eager for the intimate contact you offered.

Far from rejecting him, you responded to Jonathan's desire with equal passion, touching and kissing every inch of the fabric covering his manhood. However, a question lingered in your mind: Was Jonathan just another virgin?

Without wasting time, you began to caress Jonathan's thighs, ascending from his knees to underneath them, causing an overwhelming sensation in Jonathan, who was on the verge of exploding.

With deliberate slowness, you proceeded to unfasten Jonathan's worn-out belt, while licking your lips with anticipation and watching him from below, enjoying the expression of desperation on his face, craving more of your expertise.

Finally, Jonathan's pants fell to the ground, revealing boxers stained by the pre-cum escaping from his overflowing excitement. The feeling of constriction around his member was evident, so you didn't hesitate to lower them, freeing Jonathan's thick cock.

Jonathan couldn't believe it. He was going to be sucked by a girl with a scandalous body.

His cock was firm and throbbing, generously sized, and adorned with prominent veins that marked its vigor. The head was swollen and glossy, dripping with the essence of his uncontrollable desire. With each beat, it seemed to throb with a life of its own, eager to be caressed and adored by the goddess before it. Some spasms caused the cock to rise slightly.

With a lustful gaze, you leaned forward, bringing your face closer to Jonathan's thick cock. Your breath became irregular, anticipating the taste and texture of the throbbing member that was about to be explored. With deliberate movements, you wrapped your lips around the swollen tip of Jonathan's cock, savoring the prelude to his excitement. The sensation of warmth and moisture enveloped every inch of his member, sending waves of pleasure throughout his body.

With expert skill, you began to slide your tongue along Jonathan's long shaft, tracing tempting circles as you slowly descended towards the base. Each suction was a promise of ecstasy, each movement of your lips an invitation to deeper pleasure. Jonathan clung to the sofa, overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensations that engulfed him.

When Jonathan's cock disappeared completely into the warm cavern of your mouth, a guttural groan escaped from his lips, lost in the ecstasy of the moment. Your movements were expert and coordinated, alternating between gentle sucking and quick thrusts that made Jonathan quiver with pleasure.

Time seemed to stand still as you continued your work, bringing Jonathan to the edge of the abyss of pleasure. Each stroke of your tongue, each passionate suction, brought him closer and closer to the precipice of orgasm.

And then, just as Jonathan felt he could no longer hold back, you intensified your movements, bringing him to the most glorious climax. With a muffled cry, Jonathan surrendered to the wave of pleasure that overwhelmed him, releasing his load of ecstasy into your mouth, gripping your head tightly, restricting your movement. In that moment, he didn't think about Nancy or any other model, only about you.

With skill, you received every drop of his cum with devotion, allowing Jonathan's essence to slide over your tongue and fill your mouth with its intoxicating flavor. But when it seemed to be all done, Jonathan shot another stream onto your face, causing a mischievous smile from you, thinking that it would be the perfect moment to take a photo, finding yourself damn sexy.

And when Jonathan finally finished, you moved away slowly, allowing your gaze to meet his, your faces bathed in the And when Jonathan finally finished, you moved away slowly, allowing your gaze to meet his, your faces bathed in the shared ecstasy of a moment of unbridled passion.

"You've got a good cock, photographer," you whispered, giving him a spank, winking at him, and wiping your face with your golden robe, leaving it covered in traces of that hot liquid.

—> Plus.

"Brother, look at the cover of the new PlayBoy!" exclaimed Argyle, entering his van and throwing a magazine at Jonathan, surprising him. "I just stole it from the gas station attendant while he was peeing, so we should go now..."

On the cover, your lustful eyes stared directly at the camera, while the liquid rested on your face, causing a familiar sensation in Jonathan's pants.

"I should have asked for her number before I got kicked out for fucking the model," Jonathan thought, sighing and throwing the magazine back. The page opened to a photo taken by him, where he played with the cherries and they dripped on your nipples.

[thehobbitchronicles]

You should date a girl who reads.

Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes, who has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.

Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag. She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she has found the book she wants. You see that weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a secondhand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow and worn.

She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.

Buy her another cup of coffee.

Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.

It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas, for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry and in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.

She has to give it a shot somehow.

Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.

Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who read understand that all things must come to end, but that you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.

Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilight series.

if you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.

You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.

You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.

Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.

Or better yet, date a girl who writes.

— Rosemarie Urquico

[hekateinhell]

OH you rb'ed the ship ask thing too omg PLEASE I NEED TO KNOW #2 HOW LOUMAND'S LOVE LETTERS LOOK LIKE i know we already talked about it but pretty please can I get an example of what Armand might write to him 🥺

Anything for you! 🥹

If I calculated right LOL it's been over a year now since I opened my mouth and said Armand and Louis's love letters would 100% be of the James Joyce variety--depraved and filthy in a way that's almost wholesome in their extreme intimacy. And I stand by that. And I absolutely looked up James Joyce's love letters to his wife to serve as inspiration for this, because this level of florid is beyond my natural limits.

Without further ado, from Armand's hand...

My darling beloved: your last letter has made a beast of me. You have me so tightly wound--for three nights in a row, I have ended up prowling the docks the docks for any dark-haired, light-eyed young man I could find. And how I take them, Louis! Violently against the pier, my fangs in their veins, their hard cocks pressing into my stomach while I take all they have to give. And I imagine it is you. Your blood on my lips, your cum desecrating my silk shirt. How I envy Lestat in that he was fortunate enough to experience your mortal spill, even if it were just the once! I would have had it burning from the source or licked cold off the ground like a starving creature. Just to carry your aching wretchedness inside of me. I would have you too, my greedy whorish love! I would have your glorious essence in my mouth, my body, staining the core of me for all eternity.

Well, that was a creative exercise lmao. Always remember: Armand may look like an angel, but he talks like a thug. ♥️ (I took liberties with Lestat getting Louis off before he turned him just for you and Reb, babe 🫶🏼).

[whateverbrunettewants]

Date A Girl Who Reads by Rosemarie Urquico

(In Response to Charles Warnke’s You Should Date An Illiterate Girl.)

You should date a girl who reads. Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes, who has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.

Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag. She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she has found the book she wants. You see that weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a secondhand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow and worn.

She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.

Buy her another cup of coffee.

Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.

It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas, for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry and in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.

She has to give it a shot somehow.

Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.

Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who read understand that all things must come to end, but that you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.

Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilight series.

If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.

You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.

You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.

Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.

Or better yet, date a girl who writes.

[afrotumble]

Dawnn Jewel Lewis (born August 13, 1961) is a songwriter, film, television & stage actor, and a series TV creator/producer. Lewis is best known for her role as Jaleesa Vinson–Taylor on the NBC television sitcom A Different World from the series beginning in 1987 until the end of its fifth season in 1992, in addition to being on the show; Lewis co–wrote the theme song. Dawnn Lewis was born in Brooklyn, New York City, to Carl and Joyce Lewis, who are of African-American and Guyanese descent. Lewis began singing at the age of four and acting at eleven. At sixteen, Lewis graduated from the High School of Music & Art in New York City, now known as Fiorello H. LaGuardia High School. In college, she majored in musical theatre with a minor in journalism, graduating with a Bachelor of Music degree, cum laude, from the University of Miami in Coral Gables, Florida, in 1982. From August 1, 1985 to July 6, 1986, Lewis performed and understudied in the National Tour of the Broadway musical The Tap Dance Kid under the name "Dawnn J. Lewis".

In September 1992, Lewis began starring in ABC''s Hangin'' with Mr. Cooper alongside Mark Curry and Holly Robinson. Lewis and Holly Robinson, along with R&B quartet En Vogue, performed the theme song for season one of Hangin'' with Mr. Cooper.

Lewis provided additional voices in the video game, True Crime: New York City. She portrayed Deloris Van Cartier in Peter Schneider''s Sister Act the Musical, which opened at the Pasadena Playhouse on October 24, 2006. Lewis has voiced Storm of the X-Men in three games, most recently Marvel: Ultimate Alliance 2. She also voiced Granny Grim on The Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy, and voiced the female Shokan (Sheeva) in Mortal Kombat: Defenders of the Realm. Lewis has also done voice work as LaBarbara Conrad, wife of Hermes Conrad, in the animated TV series Futurama, Detective Terri Lee on Spider-Man: The Animated Series, villainess Di Archer on Bruno the Kid, and voiced a number of characters on The Boondocks. Additionally, she voiced the character Sharona on King of the Hill.

In 1988, she was in the movie ''I''m Gonna Git You Sucka'' as Cheryl Spade. In 2006, Lewis starred as Melba Early in the film adaptation of Dreamgirls.

In March 2016, Lewis was cast in Disney Junior''s animated series Doc McStuffins as the voice of Grandma McStuffins.

--Lamar (Facebook)