#the english language... peak sexiness

[misiahasahardname]

"the secret to good hair? put lead in it. the poisonous lead, not the lead in your pencil."

- me in 2018, channeling my inner tudor

[0xstarzx0]

NDA: ENGLISH IS NOT MY NATIVE LANGUAGE!!

“Batman & Catwoman” (special Halloween)

+18

“No, Rafe, I’m not coming out of the bathroom!” you shout, as Rafe throws himself back onto his bed and sighs loudly.

“Y/N, it’s Halloween, you’re not really going to leave me hanging, are you?” says Rafe.

Tonight, Topper is throwing a Halloween party. Rafe had the brilliant idea for you both to dress up as Batman and Catwoman.

The problem is, when Rafe ordered the costumes, he got the wrong size and picked one a size too small.

You and Rafe haven’t been dating for long, and you’ve always been quite reserved and conservative, compared to Rafe, who has always been straightforward and doesn’t mind showing off his body.

“No judgment?…” you say in a small voice.

Rafe props himself up on his elbows and nods, even though you can’t see him. ���I promise, baby,” he says, sitting up.

You open the door and slowly lift your head.

The latex costume clings to your curves, highlighting your body, with your breasts spilling out of the neckline, and the fur details making the outfit WAY too sexy for your taste. The leather boots complete the look, and the cat mask makes you unbearably irresistible.

Rafe's gaze darkens, and you shiver slightly as goosebumps spread over your body

"I'm just going to put on a dr-" Rafe suddenly stands up and quickly walks toward you, grabbing you by the waist and starting to kiss you passionately.

He’s rough and so intense that you struggle to keep up with his pace. He pulls down the zipper of your costume and smiles when he sees one of the thongs he bought you.

He had regretted it, thinking you wouldn’t wear it because of your extremely shy nature.

"My pretty girl wore a thong for her Batman?" You say nothing, your cheeks red like a tomato. "I'll take that as a yes."

He grabs you and throws you over his shoulder, making you laugh like a child, and then he gives you a playful smack.

He pins you to the bed, placing your hands above your head. "Ma'am, you're under arrest," says Rafe as he holds you down on the bed.

"Why?.." you whisper, spreading your legs a little wider. He grabs a belt lying nearby and ties your wrists to the bed.

“For being too hot.” He puts your legs on his shoulders and then puts his head between your thighs.

your excitement flows, he looks at you before passing his tongue between your folds. "Mine." He says, causing your whole body to vibrate.

He begins to lick your folds, his tongue making a few back-and-forth motions between your hole and your clitoris. He catches your clitoris between his teeth and gently tugs on it.

You squirm with pleasure, moaning as he touches you. "If I had known you would react like this, I would have already fuck with you a long time ago."

He continues to tease your throbbing bud with his expert tongue, alternating between long, slow strokes and quick, little flicks. His hands grip your hips, keeping you in place as he devours your core like a man starved.

As he continues his sensual assault, your moans grow louder, your body trembling with building pleasure. He slides a finger inside your tight heat, curling it just right to hit that special spot within. His tongue never stops its delicious torment of your clit as he finger-fucks you with increasing speed and intensity.

You feel tears streaming down your cheeks. His finger is enormous - more than twice the size of your own, and you're not sure how it fit inside you. The stretch burns, but it feels so good you can't bring yourself to ask him to stop.

As he adds a second, then a third thick, your breath hitches. You can feel your body stretching to accommodate his size, the pressure intense yet exhilarating.

"I'm going to come, Rafe!" you moan through your tears. His response is a guttural growl, and he doubles his efforts, fingering you hard and fast as his mouth latches onto your peaked bud. 

Your vision starts to blur as the overwhelming sensation threatens to consume you.

“Ah- Rafe I-!“ Your words are cut off by a scream as your orgasm hits, your entire body shaking violently as you clamp down on his fingers. 

Rafe buries his face in your pussy, muffling his own groan of pleasure as he feels your inner walls spasming around his fingers.

Rafe lifts his head and chuckles before pressing his fingers, soaked with your juices, to your lips. "Open up," he murmurs, and you part your lips, tasting yourself on him as he slides his fingers into your mouth. He kisses you, sharing the taste of your passion.

"I love you, my naughty girl," he whispers, pulling his fingers from your mouth and replacing them with his tongue, cleaning you off as he holds you close. "And I'm far from done with you yet." He nuzzles your neck before biting down on your earlobe.

“And what about Topper’s party?” you laugh, and Rafe grumbles. “Who cares? I just want to be inside you,” he says, releasing your wrists so you can hug him.

MY REQUEST ARE WILD OPEN 🥰🥰

[eternalsams]

Scare Me If You Can ⇴ J.Seresin

pairing: Jake Seresin x fem!reader

warning/content: 15+, swearing, sexual tension?, fake blood, fake weapon, scare actress!reader,Jake is a kinky bastard, boner alert

summary: Jake wanted to scare his younger brother by going to the Horror Village, but he ended up being the one scared.

word count: 2.2k

a/n: English isn't my first language so please take that into consideration. I'm so sorry, this isn't as good as last year's, to be honest I don't think I'll ever make as good as last year.

tgm masterlist main masterlist

Jake has always loved Halloween. Since the early age of 5, when his dad told him he could dress up as a pilot, Jake was convinced Halloween was the best holiday ever. He then switched to dressing up as a sexy firefighter when he got into college. He actually slept with multiple girls thanks to that one shirtless firefighter costume. But when he got into the Naval Academy, he didn't have time or the energy to look for a new costume, so he forgot about Halloween for a few years. That until this year, when he managed to get some leave for the holiday, and now he was back in Texas with his family to celebrate the day before the return of the dead.

He only had the time to settle in his old room when his mom told him she was leaving to pick up his younger brother at the train station. Jake smiled and nodded, watching the woman who raised him leave the house. It had been a while since Jake didn't see his brother; with college and deployments, common free times were hard to find. But knowing Elijah would be there for Halloween made it so much better. So he waited patiently until his mom and brother came back, hid behind the door, and listened to them walk up the porch steps, talking about whatever. The door opened on him, and he waited for his mother to walk in before jumping on Elijah, shouting his name to scare him. The younger man cursed as Jake laughed before insulting his older brother. Jake wrapped his arm around his brother's shoulders, still chuckling. "Good to see you, Eli'."

"Come on, boys. Don't start." Their mom lectured them as she made her way to the living room. Elijah pushed his brother back and shoved him away, starting unintentionally a playfight with Jake, who locked his brother's head under his arm. "Boys, please. At least, do that outside." Mother Seresin sighed, her face peaking out from the living room. "Listen to your mother." Their dad's voice rang, and both boys stopped their heckling. "Well, I still need to welcome our young prodigy home!" Jake shoved his brother's shoulder. "If one of us is a prodigy, it's you, Jake." His mom chuckled lightly and Elijah's lips parted in shock. "Ouch, that hurts." He grumbled in fake hurt. "Well, Jake's the one with the nice house next to California beaches." Jake laughed and wrapped his arm around his younger brother's shoulders. "But we're very proud of you for getting into college, Elijah." Both Seresin parents laughed at the boys' banter, and the younger Seresin pouted. "Fuck off."

"Hey, watch your language in my house!" Their mom intervened before she walked up to them with a flyer. "Why don't you go see the attraction they set in town?" Jake grabbed the flyer from his mom's hands, and a smile stretched his lips when he read the words Horror Village. "Well, that seems fun!" Elijah snatched the piece of paper from his brother and nodded. "Alright, I'll go. Could be fun."

"Oh, you won't get rid of me that easily. I'm coming with ya!" Jake went to grab his jacket and Elijah's from the coat rack. "Only if I'm driving." The younger Seresin said as he caught his coat throw at him by his brother. "Not even in your dreams, buddy." Jake chuckled, grabbing his car keys and opening the door, letting his little brother walk out. He waved at his parents and joined Elijah in the car.

Jake had his hands sunk into his pockets, looking around like a little kid. The dim lights created the perfect Halloween atmosphere. He and Elijah reached the Horror Village's gates and multiple security guards were standing there, checking IDs and bags. "You sure you're old enough to be allowed there?" Jake asked his brother with a smirk, earning him a jab in the ribs. Both Seresin brothers passed the gates and a man came up to them to mark their hands and enunciate the guidelines. "No alcohol allowed. There will be actors in there, they can touch you, you can touch them. All the weapons you'll see or come in contact with are fake. If one of the actors goes too far, say 'blackbird' and they'll leave you be. Enjoy your night, gentlemen." The man explained and Jake nodded to the oddly specific rules.

The two brothers started wandering into the village, laughing when a scare actor would jump on a visitor and earning them screams. They eventually reached a food truck and Jake ordered a candy apple, curious when he noticed they made them black. "Aren't you too old for this?" Elijah asked when Jake thanked the lady in the truck as she handed him his candy apple. "I'll never be too old for sugar." He winked at his little brother and moaned in delight as he took his first bite into the sugar-coated fruit. "You're a child." Elijah scoffed as he noticed a cute girl a little further. Jake followed his gaze and chuckled when he saw the girl leaving with her friends. He also noticed the short skirt she was wearing and the way his brother's eyes lowered to her bare legs. "Trust me, buddy. You don't have time for this." He clapped his hand on Elijah's shoulder.

"Don't have time for what? Fun?" Elijah raised a brow with a smile. "For girls like her, trust me when I say she'd only play with you." Jake tried to regain his brother's attention. "Maybe I wanna play with her too." He grinned, a well-known spark in his eyes. Jake grimaced and groaned, seeing too much of himself in his little brother. "Gross..." He grumbled as he finished his candy apple, throwing the wooden stick in the garbage near them. "Come on, Romeo. We've still gotta visit that village." He gently pushed his brother forward and kept walking, passing by new actors who were running or staring at visitors.

"Isn't that one of those ladies from your game?" Jake asked, pointing at a lady a bit further. He recognized the revealing outfit from one of the horror games his brother often plays. Elijah sighed, convinced his brother got it wrong but when his eyes landed on you, he raised his eyebrows. "Well shit, you're right. It's one of the nurses from Silent Hill!" And just like you heard them, you turned to them, tilted your head to the side as your character would do. Only a blind person couldn't tell the blond guy was attractive, but unfortunately for you, you were working so no flirting. But you could still have a bit of fun with visitors. You put your hand on a woman's shoulder to hold yourself, startling her and wobbled to the cute guy. The younger man next to him couldn't help himself and looked you up and down but your eyes were only on the taller one. Your entire face was covered with dirty bandages and fake blood, hiding your face and adding realism to the costume.

When you finally reach the man, you faked tripping and held yourself on him, sneaking out a fake scalpel. His arms immediately supported you and as he was about to ask if you were okay, you brought the prop to his neck and a sound escaped your mouth. It was between a low whimper and a complaint. "I think she got you, Jake!" The younger man laughed as the cute guy watched you with wide eyes. "Alright, alright. You're good, I have to admit it." He swallowed and the tip of your prop grazed his Adam's apple as he did so. You smiled under your makeup and slowly pulled back from him.

You raised your hand to his face and ran your dirty finger down his face, leaving a trail of fake blood on his skin. You straightened your legs, appearing taller in your high heeled shoes and brought your face to his, another whine leaving your lips.

Jake looked away from you, feeling your body heat emanating from you and warming up his own body. He hated the way you made him feel. He swore under his breath and tried to remember the safe word the guy at the gates gave them. Blackbird. But it wasn't necessary because you pulled back, taking your hand off his face and your body off his. Jake felt like he could breathe all over again. He refused to look down at you, scared he might ogle right down your revealing cleavage. You waved off the two men and staggered away, blowing Jake a kiss before disappearing into the night. Jake exhaled loudly and calmed himself down while Elijah laughed out loud. "You should see your face!" The young Seresin clapped his hand on his brother's shoulder. "Shut the fuck up."

Elijah looked at his brother up and down and chuckled some more. "Forget I said that. You should see your pants!" He laughed as he discreetly pointed at his brother's pants. Jake looked down and noticed the slight bulge of his jeans and the straining his own body had against the clothes. "God damn it..." The pilot swore and readjusted himself discreetly, looking around to check nobody saw that. "The nurse? Seriously?" Elijah questioned, still laughing at his brother. Jake glared at him and looked over his shoulders to see where you went, but he couldn't see you anymore. "She was hot, okay? Now leave me alone." Jake cleared his throat and tried to think of something else than your body pressed against his and kept walking through the village.

Not even twenty minutes later, his eyes caught sight of you again. His breath got stuck in his throat and he stopped in his track. Elijah slowed down to check on his brother until he noticed you. A smirk pulled at his lips and he turned to Jake. "Why don't you go ask for her number if you like her this much?" Jake rolled his eyes at the suggestion. "She's working and in character, she'd never give me her number. Aren't you supposed to know the nurses don't talk in Silent Hill?" The pilot turned to his brother. "Maybe you could give her a reason to talk." Elijah shrugged and looked at something over the blonde's shoulder. Jake felt a slight tap on his left shoulder and when he turned, his right shoulder was then tapped. He turned around and fell face to face with a bandaged face he recognized immediately.

"You again!" He chuckled and felt his face warm up. He could practically hear his brother's smirk behind him. You stood there, staring at him, your bare legs looking like they could break with how fragile they looked. But again, it was all an act to stay in character. He watched you leaned closer, his breath becoming heavier as you got closer to his body. "Your costume is really great. Very accurate." He said, trying to fill the silence. You tilted your head to the side, notifying you heard what he just said. But loyal to your act, you said nothing, your mouth shut behind the bandages around your head. You watched him as he extended his hand to you with a nervous smile. "I'm...I'm Jake." He nervously chuckled, a soft blush creeping up his face. A low whimper escaped your lips and Jake's smile fell, realizing he couldn't have a real conversation with you. "Right..." He sighed, his hand falling back down along his body. Elijah tapped his shoulder and encouraged him to keep walking. "Come on, we need to finish the tour."

Jake nodded in defeat and took a last look at you before following his brother. You watched him leave, disappointed you couldn't talk to him or anything without risking losing your job. Your character wasn't supposed to talk so you couldn't mutter a single word to anyone in the Village. You only hoped he'd understand and not take it personally.

The next morning, Jake was waiting in line for his coffee, looking down at his phone and the stupid jokes Rooster was sending on the group chat. His fellow pilot travelled back to Virginia to spend Halloween with his wife and kid and now the whole squad had to witness the atrocity he called a home-made costume of him and his kid. Dressed as a chicken and baby chick. Jake quickly typed an answer as he took a step forward, feeling the line move. But he didn't stop in time and bumped into someone. He quickly looked up and made eye contact with a young woman before apologizing. "Very sorry." He apologetically smiled and the woman looked at him up and down. Jake knew he was handsome, he knew too well, but his mind was still on the masked lady from the night before so he didn't pay no mind. "Do I have to say blackbird for you to not do that again?" She smiled and Jake frowned in confusion. He took a long look at you and looked down at your form. His eyes opened wide as he recognized you. A smile stretched his lips as he finally got a face to put on your body. "It's you." He said, trying to learn the color of your eyes by heart. "It's me." You smiled at him and noticed how even more handsome he looked during daylight.

taglist: @hardballoonlove @blue-aconite @iliketopgun @callsign-hummingbird @roosterforme @senawashere @jessicab1991

@atarmychick007 @hangmansgbaby @callsigns-haze @callsign-magnolia @els-marvelvsp @djs8891 @phoenix-rising-starbird-one

@floydsglasses @hangmanbrainrot @selencgraphy @books4ever03 @shanimallina87 @averagewriter-inthedark @theglenaissance

[grimsonandclover]

first prev

Sympathy is a knife.2

or; Wake up, I'm sorry.

Stanford!Tashi x tennis player!reader

Song of the post 'when you sleep - my bloody valentine'

Tashi Duncan visits you at the hospital. It could have been her.

SFW

2.4k words

you know the drill. injury, medical shit to the best of my ability which isnt a lot, tashi duncan being kinda gay??? homosexuality? in front of my salad? if you squint, reader being emo but like come on, hospitals, nurses, knee splints, DRUGS (the medical kind and morphine), reader is generally unwell but she also just came out of surgery, suicidal thoughts, more mentions of vicera, its the hospital episode (again) (like beach episodes but less horny and sexy and fanservicey more painful and ugly and intimate so nothing like a beach episode), enemies to idk what this is! I'm a native english speaker but i play fast and hard with the rules of the language (meaning i fuck up tenses a lot and don't catch it all in editing, but i know they're there so i think that makes it better), minimal use of Y/N but there are some points where I had to.

The steady rhythm of the heart rate monitor was the only indication that you were alive.

Tubes in your arm. Tubes in your throat. Hues of purple and yellow peaked from under the immobilizer brace and pins covering your leg and drainage tubes, matching with the same shades of color under your eyes.

Despite it all, she couldn't help but think you looked peaceful. You looked dead. The nurse said you were still knocked out from surgery and would be for a while. Tashi wondered if you were dreaming.

Tashi wondered if you always looked so lifeless in your sleep.

Her sepia eyes couldn't move from that leg. The bandaging, the knowing what's right under. She saw your soul, and then she saw your bones and blood. Tashi had cried in her mother's arms when it had fully hit her.

Tashi Duncan won the match. Your injury meant your forfeit. It didn't taste as sweet at she wanted, more bitter and even vexatious. She wanted to win through skill, not... this. It almost felt like you did this on purpose. You pitied her.

No, she knew that wasn't it. It was easier to blame you than accept the fate of an athlete. These things just... happen, sometimes. It could've been her, instead. But it wasn't. It was your bones that reached for the sunlight filtering down on the court amongst the blooming crimson, not hers. Tashi was here, standing before your resting form, with two perfectly functional knees.

When the nurse came and told her it was time to leave, and Tashi gathered her things from the small armchair in the corner of the room where she watched you from, she felt... strange. Changed.

The fan of your eyelashes on the tops of your cheeks, your pallor, the halo of hair framing your face and resting head. Those tubes. The IV. The heart rate monitor. The surgical steel pins securing your knee in place. Her eyes land on the small tattoo on your inner wrist, one she'd never noticed before. Tashi recognized them as your father's initials.

There was the girl she hated, softly asleep despite her surroundings. You almost looked beautiful, and then she got this feeling in her chest, and it startled her.

She pitied you.

Waking up was miserable. Your throat was dry like never before, the lights hurt your eyes worse than any hangover you've experienced, and the feeling of the scratchy hospital gown made you want to claw your skin off. You could hear your heart rate monitor, and in that moment you wished it would just flatline.

The sob that broke out, despite how dry you felt, when you saw the state of your knee, was ugly. Your nurse, Nurse Amanda, was a useless piece of shit. You had major respect for healthcare workers and everything that they have to go through on a daily basis, but Amanda could go fuck herself to hell. She's the one that had asked you for an autograph when you requested your brother's music to be played.

"Oh, your knee." She'd say casually while writing things down on a chart as disgusting, fat, blobs of salt ran down your face and chin and you tried to remember how to breathe properly. "Some physio and you'll be right back on the court or in the club. I'm sure."

"How," hiccup, "How much physio?" You try to wipe the tears, but more keep coming. It's like your eyes were sucking any moisture from your mouth and lips just to supply a fresh batch of them. Wasn't Amanda supposed to bring you water?

Fucking Amanda looks down at her chart, tapping a pen to her chin. You were on drugs, but no amount of them could completely rid the feeling of your knee and it freaked you out. Every time the corner of your eye caught on the metal pins that poked from it, you felt a shiver run through you. "About a year, possibly more, possibly less. It was a brutal break."

She covered her mouth sheepishly like she just told you the secret ingredient in a family recipe. "Oh, I shouldn't have said that."

No, she shouldn't have. It just makes you stare at your fucked leg even harder. It just makes the tears fall even more. The collar of your hospital gown, one a powder blue, now soaked a darker cornflower.

When Tashi returns, you've calmed down considerably-- mostly thanks to the increased dosage of morphine. It's been two days since, and it's actually hard to remember anything that happened that day. Or the day before, or when you first woke up this morning. God bless morphine.

Though you can't tell, Tashi hasn't changed from what she wore when she visited you yesterday. Nobody even told you that she came earlier, and she preferred it that way. She didn't know why she came back, or why her heart fluttered when the nurse told her that you'd woken up.

Tashi stood still at the door, and you lay exactly where you would stay for the foreseeable future on that damn hospital bed staring back at her. She noticed how you had such pained eyes. The harsh hospital light cast shadows from your browbones to your cheeks, draining color from your pupils. How'd she never seen it before? Words dried in her chest like withered flowers before they got the chance to bloom, and she could feel them sit there. Tashi honestly had no clue what she wanted to say. She could say "I'm sorry" or "Are you okay?" but those were useless words. She didn't like useless things.

When you spoke, and you spoke first after a long stretch of awkward silence and staring, your voice was clearer than it was earlier-- because Fucking Amanda finally remembered you might need hydrating after sobbing for three hours straight and major surgery. Despite that, you still spoke low and broken.

"What are you doing in New York?" She's meant to be back in France.

A pull between her eyebrows, like an invisible string being yanked. "What?"

You look aside at the circles of cleared dust. She heard you, you weren't that quiet.

"Fuck you." She slowly shakes her head. What she means is fuck you for questioning her, because she doesn't have a good answer. You can read between the lines.

You laugh at the suddenness of it, and then your head spins a little more. In a nice way, even though you're meant to be scared of her. "It's a reasonable question. You're meant to be playing against..."

"La Lourie."

"Right. Her. So, what are you doing in New York?" What are you doing here.

Tashi doesn't move from the door, arms crossed as her fingers pick at a loose string of her zip-up hoodie. She doesn't answer for a bit, eyes moving down to a spot on the floor. "I pulled out."

Your breath halts, looking up at her when her words pierce you like an arrow. You don't say anything, because really, you can't. What is there to say?

She finally steps in, leaning against the wall next to the door. An easy way out, and escape hatch. Tashi swallows thickly as the thread on the hoodie is pulled more and more. "I couldn't, uh," she blinks hard, shaking her head, "I couldn't go back out there. Not after that."

What an un-Tashi-like thing to say. She could've been in your place right now and she'd still get up and hobble to the courts, demanding someone play her. Yet, somehow, you ruined it for her. At least for now. She was meant to hate you.

"Your blood is... like, they cleaned it, but I swear I can still see it there. I had to leave."

"It's the French Open, Tashi--"

"And I'll win it next year. But, fuck, I can't play it now." she shakes her head with finality. "I tried, I went on the practice court but I could only picture you on the floor like that, crying and bloody and calling for your dad--"

Your eyes widen and your head snaps up to her. "What?"

The medical team rush from their tent onto the court, surrounding you almost the minute you crash and fall. You can't hear the scared murmurs of the croud, or the shaking breath of your opponent, or your own sobs. Just the blood rushing to your ears and out your knee.

Everyone saw how you clung to your leg, rocking back and forth on the clay. There's someone asking if you can move, someone calling for a stretcher. You just rock and cry.

"D-daddy," you whimper, eyes on the clear blue sky and swirling clouds as your vision blurs and doubles. "Dad, daddy where are you? I want my dad, I need my dad,"

The pain got so bad you stopped feeling it.

Those in the crowd who knew about your dad gasped. Amber stood frozen, watching, not knowing what the hell there was to do. Tashi couldn't feel her legs and her stomach turned. She ran off the court into the player's tunnel, spilling out into the first trashcan she could find. When they finally got you onto the stretcher and off the court, you'd passed out.

Naturally, it was all over the news. Players get injured all the time, but it wasn't often that players like you crashed and burned so brutally. News sites discussed and speculated in detail about the match, everything before, and everything after. TMZ reached out to Amber, who declined to give them any information, and even Tashi got called by a few publishers.

Amber came to your room an hour after Tashi left, rushing to your bedside as bombarding you with questions.

"Oh, fuck," She mumbled, looking over at the mess you were in. "Oh, fuck, I'm so sorry I didn't-- couldn't come sooner. I- I don't," words failed her. Sure, Amber was hard on you, and maybe she considered leaving your career in the hands of someone more emotionally capable very often, but she did care for you. Like a sick, twisted mother-daughter relationship despite the fact she was only a couple years older.

You could tell how hard she tried to not look at your leg, to keep her eyes focused on your top half. You could almost hear the anxiety going on inside that head of hers. The job insecurity must be wild. Where'd she get her check now?

Patrick was next. He almost threw up from a mix of the jet lag and seeing you. "Jesus fuck, Y/N."

He couldn't walk all the way in at first, staying by the door like Tashi had earlier. It was so much. "I got on a plane the second I could. God, this is sick."

It took him a while to come in and not feel faint, sitting by your bedside and not letting his eyes zero in on The Knee. Patrick wasn't a religious man, not by far, but he felt like praying for you.

Your mother was last. Nothing much to note there, it was a silent visit only interrupted by a call she 'had to take'. She didn't return. Seline sent a card which now lies facedown and unopened on the bedside table.

A hand on her shoulder startles Tashi from her vacant staring at her knee, a soft "We're here, Tash." from the driver's seat telling her they're home. It's been a week, now, since your fall. Looking up at the passenger's seat mirror, Tashi can see soft circles darkening under bloodshot eyes, a testament to the night terrors she's been greeted with every time she closes her eyes.

She was meant to move out ages ago from her childhood home but never quite got there. Art said it was because she was secretly sentimental, but Tashi just assumed it was cause her bed only felt right in that room. Nothing felt right, now.

Tashi helps her mother carry in the groceries, Nat and Renee bickering at the table about one thing or the other instead of helping. The older sister doesn't really hear, the words just pass through her as one bag, then another is set on the counters. She's asked to pick a side, the answer is a dismissive hand wave, their mother tells the twins to leave Tashi to breathe.

They've been tiptoeing around her all week but she's too zoned out to bother to tell them to stop. The truth is, Tashi doesn't feel like Tashi. She feels replaced, swapped out. A part of her kicks and screams at her for withdrawing from the Open, and everyone around her can tell.

Every time she sees her knees, she thinks about how it could've been her on the ground screaming, crying out for her mom or dad. Tennis was her fucking lifeline, thinking of it being ripped away like that in a blink of an eye... something in her head throbs and Tashi flops back onto her bed, staring at her blank ceiling.

She feels like she's swimming through life in a pool of shock. Nothing sounds full, everything feels slightly blurry against her skin. Art keeps calling and texting, asking if she's alright, if he should come over. She dismisses him every time. Her mother knows she needs her space to process everything, but now it feels like everything is giving her space. Too much space. She's suffocating.

Tashi forgot to ask for your number. She really wants to talk to you, despite it all. God, she can't even remember why she decided she hated you. Was there a reason at all? Did she hate you cause she felt like she had to, because everyone else did? It was like with Britney or Amy, watching them go through shit and instead of sympathizing, criticizing. Is that what Tashi was doing? Wasn't she better than that? Losing to you hurt, that was for sure, and she didn't exactly respect the DUI, but everything else... why did it matter so much to her?

All the shit-talking, all the tabloids about you she read, all the gossip she'd listen to intently from other players. It made her sick to think about, because now, and only now, she saw you as the person you were. It only took you losing it all for her to see.

Didn't her mother raise her better than that?

She grabs a pillow, pulling it over her face to block out the world. Downstairs she can hear the argument between Nat and Renee heat up, her father in the next room on a work call, her mother making fresh juice in the kitchen. The neighbor's dog, Lucky, is barking outside. Someone's starting a car. Art's new text buzzes her phone.

Tashi thinks about how the whole world moves on while you're stuck in that bed, and how it could have been her.

first prev

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Bette Davis (All About Eve, Now Voyager, Jezebel)—She is a bitch and I like her so much. Also: unf. She does it all: rage, vulnerability, romantic passion, hauteur that invites beholders to say "step on me" under their breath. Her work in the 1930s, from melodramas to romantic comedies, is excellent, but I've mentioned 1940s films above because I feel that she really was at her best once the studio allowed her star image to get edgier. Also her decades-long platonic friendships with male co-stars (e.g. Paul Henreid, Claude Rains) are very important to me. Anyway: bow down before Bette Davis, HBIC.

Vanessa Brown (Tarzan and the Slave Girl)—Was fluent in several languages, wrote and directed school plays in high school, was a movie critic and feature writer for the campus newsletter while she was majoring in English; had a career in film, television, radio, stage and was also talented in painting

This is round 1 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Bette Davis propaganda:

"The absolute GOAT of vintage cinema. An icon. Her EYES. Any time you see Bette on screen you know she's about to steal the spotlight. Her range is incredible, she can play coy, shy, mischevious, innocent, evil, hideous, beautiful, cunning, and wise all with the same self assurance and talent. I live in awe of her ability. And, of course, she's gorgeous. I think she peaked in 1950 with "All About Eve", at the age of 42- she was in full control of her craft, she's a milf, and her scratchy voice makes me nervous in a good way."

"She’s Bette fuckin’ Davis! She had a great sense of humor and a lovely pair of eyes! She was a camp icon and fuckin’ knew it. And she wasn’t afraid to make fun of herself!"

"shes got a whole song of saying how hot someone is bc they look like her"

"She's got Bette Davis eyes! Incredible character actress, charming, witty as all hell. Her favourite accessory was a lit cigarette."

[miniisunshine]

~𝓣𝓮𝓪𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓻'𝓼 𝓹𝓮𝓽~

Warnings : teacher x student relationship, fem reader, age gap (not mentionned, but still), both consenting adults, slight humiliation, slight dom, inspired by the movie Miller's girl

You were always aware of the power you had on the boys your age, how you would make their heads turn as you entered the room. Almost every girl would have die to have this much attention, but not you. You wanted something else, something more mature.

Not a boy, but a man, someone with history, knowledge and wisdom. A man with long brown hair, round glasses who went by the name Samuel Lafferty, your english teacher. And somehow, you knew he wanted you too.

Being a bright student you quickly peaked Sam's curiosity, leading him to assign extra homework to you; a way to add a little more to your academic portfolio in hope of helping your university's admission application.

M. Lafferty's last assignment was to write a short story in the style of your favorite author, in which you chose Henry Miller: a man whose work was filled with explicit language and sex. A controversial choice, but also a provocative one, which is what you wanted.

You sat patiently in the back of the big auditorium, waiting for your teacher to finish his lesson so you could give him the somehow nasty tale you had wrote the night before. You made sure you looked your best for Sam, not too sexy, but also not too prude, just enough to satisfy his desire.

You fiddled with your papers standing by as the other students left the room. Heart almost beating out of your chest you made your way to his desk where he was focussing on his work, probably correcting some exams.

"Mister Lafferty?"

Samuel jumped from his chair, looking at you while chuckling.

"Ah! So sorry young lady, i forgot we had a meeting after class. So.. Which author did you land on?"

You extended your arm to gave him your assignment as he removed his glasses.

"Henry Miller."

He glanced at you with a confused yet intrigued look.

"Interesting.. I didn't even know kids your age knew about him. Shall i have a look?"

You nodded, smiling shyly as you sat in the chair facing his desk.

Fidgeting with your fingers, you already apprehended what he would say about your story. Sure choosing an author known to write sexual stuff was a peculiar choice, but writting a teacher/student relationship in his style was a complete different situation and that's what you chose to put yourself into.

You watched your teacher carefully reading every words you put on the papers he now had in hands. His body changed as the story evolved.

Samuel's straighten himself up, cleared his throat and looked at you, cheeks redder than usual.

"What were you hoping by making me read this type of work?"

"Im afraid i don't know what you mean M. Lafferty."

His tone hardened

"Stop acting so clueless, we both know what you tried to insuniate with this story and it is wrong, i can't accept that."

"But is it really wrong if both parties really want it sir?"

With that question, his gaze changed from neutral to angry, with a little envy behind his eyes, as he made his way to you, grabbing your jaw and forcing you to stand up

You were shocked, scared, but somehow kinda excited by this burst of brutality, your knees becoming weak.

You kept eye contact with him, trying to understand what was going on behind his as Sam's opened his mouth a couple of times to retort, but in vain nothing came out. He sighed, brushing your arm with his fingers as he slowly made his way to the lower part of your body.

You were heating up, excitement visible in your eyes, while you follow his movements. M. Lafferty then quickly grabbed your cunt with his hand, making you jumped and squeaked from the sudden move. You felt his fingers slowly rubbing your folds still hidden in your pretty panties, revealing the wet mess you were since the beginning of this interaction.

"Just like i thought.. Are you always this wet when you see me?"

You avoided his icy blue gaze, not wanting to face the embarrassing, but true, fact he just discovered.

"I'm afraid so.."

Samuel wasted no time as he made his way into your underwear and introduced one finger in your hole while rubbing circles onto your throbbing clit with his thumb.

Whimpering, you placed your hands on his shoulders, brassing yourself for the wave of pleasure he was putting yourself to.

"Is that what you hoped for?"

You nodded vigorously as you moaned his name into his ear. You didn't care to look if the classroom door was open or if people could hear you, all you care about was the blissfull experience you were now having with the man you dreamed so much of.

He grabbed your chin once more with his free hand, forcing you to look into his eyes as he pleasured you, before colliding his lips onto yours. The kiss was rushed but still passionate. Samuel removed his fingers from your now soaking cunt, leading yours to find his hardened bulge in his pants as he deepened the kiss to hide his own moans.

Feeling the power you had on him, confidence hit you and you pushed your teacher into his desk so you could climb onto his laps. He placed his free hands on your ass, slowly rocking your hips on him as you unbuckled his pants to reveal his throbbing member waiting to be taking care of.

You wrapped your fingers around his length, making his head sway back as he growled from the simple touch you offered him. Having choosen to wear a skirt today, you didn't felt the need to undress yourself, so you pulled your panties to the side and placed your entrance right to his tip, teasing him by grinding on it.

Not being a patient man, Samuel quickly guided you down on him, his rough but soft hand on your waist, making you both moan in unison. Realising the situation you were now in, he put his palm on your mouth, muffling the dirty sounds coming from it as you began to bounce on his dick.

Kneading your ass with his other hand, Samuel burried his face into your chest, whimpering as your picked up your pace. It was hot, really hot, neither of you could comprehend how you ended up in this situation but you both couldn't deny the attraction you felt from one another.

"Lay on my desk"

Commanded your teacher out of breath. You did exactly as he asked, climbing down from dick, whining a little as a void took place in your lower area. Now on your back, this was the perfect position for him to admire your pretty pussy, carressing it slowly with his long fingers.

"P-please.. M. Lafferty.."

You couldn't take this teasing anymore you needed him to fill you up once more. Grinning he inserted himself once more, slamming his length into you. A loud gasp escaped from your lips even if you tried to stay quiet.

Hands on your hips, nails digging in your flesh, Sam kept pounding mercilessly, feeling your wet walls slowly clenching onto him.

"You're gonna cum for me young lady?"

You nodded, replying with a soft cry of pleasure.

"Use your words"

His pace slowed down as his thumb made his way to your engorged pearl, rubbing steady circles on it.

"Y-yyess.."

He chuckled before increasing his speed, making your vision blurry. You could no longer hold back your orgasm as you came undone on his dick, bitting your lips hard, enough to drew blood, to hold back the scream who would have come out.

A few thrusts later, Samuel followed you, filling your cunt with his white hot liquid.

Out of breath, you both looked at each others, contemplating the damage you had done. He helped you cleaned yourself up, as he did the same for him before giving you back your papers.

"Your story was beautifully written, but i still can't accept it for... obvious reasons."

I'm kinda proud of this one!

Also i can't lie anymore, i think Sam has become my favorite character, its a problem!!

Also pt.2 thanks to @kappasbbgirl for the idea

Tell me what yall think! <3

[writershapeholeonthedoor]

Skin

Pairing: Elizabeth Olsen x Fem!Reader

Summary: There are times when you need Elizabeth to consume you

Disclaimer: SMUT! NSFW! Also, English is not my first language.

MASTERLIST

You squirmed, whimpering when the fingers inside you moved. It wasn’t enough to allow you any relief whatsoever - in fact, it only made things worse - but you needed to move or you would actually go insane. You tried to play it off as an accidental movement, a moment where you tried to adjust your knee and your leg slipped, but you knew you had done a poor job when your girlfriend arched one eyebrow at you.

"Do I need to restrain you, baby girl?"

Her voice was like liquid fire running down your veins. Deep, husky, sexy. It made your head spin and a shiver ran down your spine. It made you want to moan, to try to move your hips again, to scream in frustration. You didn’t, though, because you knew she wouldn’t allow you to cum if you acted like a brat.

"No, ma'am," you replied with a shudder in your voice.

"Behave then, baby."

To add more intent to her words, Elizabeth grabbed a handful of your ass cheek. She didn’t pull you closer, nor did she push you down on the fingers that were inside you, but you felt her nails digging into your skin and that alone made your eyes roll back before you could stop yourself. You were sitting on her lap, open legs and knees resting on the cushions of the couch, naked from your waist down and wearing only a tank top on your upper body, two of Elizabeth’s fingers buried deep inside your cunt and a fog in your head induced by pleasure. Elizabeth, on the other hand, was sitting on the couch as relaxed as she never did, fully clothed and smirking at you while her green eyes kept focused solely on your expression. She was watching you as if you were her next meal, something you wouldn’t complain about.

The problem was that you were in that same position for God knows how long now. It felt like ears, albeit you had the piece of mind to know it couldn’t be more than an hour or your legs would already give out on you. However, Elizabeth has been edging you for a while, leaving you desperate and needy at the same time you knew your best option was to wait for her to get tired instead of trying to sneak another wave of pleasure.

Every once in a while, Elizabeth would curl her fingers inside you or prompt you to ride her fingers for a few seconds. She would draw some moans out of you and then she would stop before you reached your peak. And you knew you weren’t allowed to complain.

You shouldn't. That was the agreement. That was the first thing you established after you admitted there was something inside you that wanted to be possessed by her. Devoured. Ruined.

If things got too much, you could ask her to pause or stop, of course, but you weren’t supposed to complain and you couldn’t beg unless she told you to. That was the power dynamic that had made you cum countless times before.

(You wondered, even for a second, if people would ever believe that the woman who spent her free time tending to her garden, picking up strawberries and grapes, was the same woman that made those things with you behind closed doors. Well, sometimes not behind closed doors too.)

For now, you kept sitting on her lap, praying to any god that might exist that your girlfriend would get tired soon. You were dripping down between your legs, you knew she could feel it on her thighs, and you didn’t think you could get wetter than you already were, although you were proven wrong many times now. Your body was begging for a very needed release and you were kind of afraid of how hard it would hit you once Elizabeth decided to stop her teasing.

You were pulled away from your thoughts by the feeling of her thumb rolling over your clit roughly. "Look at me," Elizabeth demanded and you almost - almost - argued saying you couldn’t help rolling your eyes.

It would do no good, however, and you wisely remained in silence as your eyes slowly focused back on her as your entire body shuddered. She said nothing else, but she stopped the touch on your clit and her free hand let go of your ass to roam through your body. She caressed your thighs first, running her palm up and down your skin, before she ran them up. Under your tank top, nails scratching your stomach and bringing goosebumps on your skin, the tip of her fingers under your breasts. You weren’t wearing a bra and your nipples were definitely fighting against the tight material of your top, and you whimpered again when she brushed one of them with a finger.

"Look at you," she said while she removed her hand from under your shirt. It had been torturous like that since the beginning - the light touches that were taken away as soon as you started getting off on them. Even if she said those words, Elizabeth’s green eyes didn’t leave yours and her stare only softened a bit when you bit your bottom lip to stop yourself from shouting. "Don't hurt yourself, baby girl," Elizabeth whispered and used her thumb to free your lip from its torture.

Your own hands had long ago found the back of the sofa behind her and your knuckles were white from holding it too tightly, but you almost wished you could use them to hold Elizabeth’s face and pull her in for a kiss. You would love that because you were sure the feeling of her soft lips against yours was the only thing capable of keeping your sanity at that point. You were almost reducing yourself to a whimpering mess, almost allowing pleas to slip from your mouth, but you didn’t want to cause a change of mood in Elizabeth.

You couldn’t be punished tonight or you might actually really die.

Elizabeth’s hand lowered from your face and, to your surprise, her finger hooked on your tank top to pull it down enough to free one of your breasts to the hot air of the night. You gasped at the feeling, something you couldn’t hold back especially after her hand drew the curve of your breast to touch it while she leaned over to take your nipple between her lips. There was nothing in the world able to make you hold your reaction to that.

With a deep moan, you brought one of your hands to hold Elizabeth’s head in place and you were even more surprised when she curled the fingers inside you. You could have cum just by that alone, but you knew you weren’t supposed to give in so soon, even more so when Elizabeth curled her free arm around your waist and started to suck your nipple as if her life depended on that.

Your hips started to roll on their own accord, trying to chase the orgasm that was boiling inside your belly, but Elizabeth was quick to strengthen her hold on you to keep you in place. You knew Elizabeth loved the teasing, the edging, to drive you crazy like that.

And you also liked it so damn much.

“Babe,” you moaned out even if you feared it might get the wrong reaction from her. “I’m so close.”

It was your lucky day, apparently, because Elizabeth’s reply was just a slap on your thigh, sharp and fast - a warning. She didn’t stop though and the mouth sucking on your nipple merely moved to the side to suck on the delicate skin of your boob. She was trying to leave you a hickey, you knew that. Elizabeth wasn’t one to enjoy that type of demonstration - the mark always seemed a bit crude to her - but she always chose your boobs to leave a hickey when she was in the mood for that. You loved it, loved to carry a mark in your skin made by her.

The feeling of her lips sucking your skin got your hips bucking again and a whine scaped through your hips when your clit hit her hand. That alerted Elizabeth of your little adventure trying to be sneaky though, and she pulled her mouth away from you at the same time her hand raised to grab a handful of your hair. She didn’t pull too hard, just enough to show you she could, and it drove you crazy.

“You behaved yourself so well today,” Elizabeth said calmly as if you weren’t trying to ride her fingers. “You don’t want to let me down now.”

This time, your whimper held another reason behind it. No, you didn’t want to let her down. You wanted to be her good girl, you wanted to make her proud and happy. You would endure all torture if that’s what she wanted, even if you felt a step away from imploding, because you wanted to be good for her.

So you stilled your hips, bit the inside of your cheek to stop any more sounds from escaping you, and your hands gripped tighter on the couch behind her. Your body screamed for you not to stop, but you did. You did, and then you looked at Elizabeth with wide teary eyes and waited for her gentle guidance.

“That’s it,” Elizabeth cooed with a grin. “I knew you would listen to me, baby girl. You always do, don’t you?”

You felt the fingers inside you moving again. It was slow - oh, so very slow - and it gave you enough pleasure to keep on edge, but not enough to push you over it. You kept your eyes trained on hers even when you shuddered or when your muscles contracted on their own accord. Elizabeth’s green eyes were mostly back by now, her pupil so blown out that it swallowed most of the color, but her lips kept curled in a satisfied smile that made your head spin. She took her hand from your hair a couple of minutes later to slide her hand down to your thigh, just letting it rest there.

You were about to break the rules again - to beg and plead and humiliate yourself if you had to - when Elizabeth leaned closer to you, brushing your hair to the side, and whispered in your ear. “You were so good for me. So good. My beautiful girl.” She kissed the skin right under your jaw and your breath got stuck in your throat. “You can ride my fingers now. Come on, make yourself come. Work for it.”

Elizabeth didn’t have to tell you twice. As soon as she said the words, you started bouncing in her lap. With one boob out going up and down with you, you couldn’t care less as you closed your eyes, threw your head back and started to ride her fingers for real. You were afraid she might end up changing her mind and stopping you again, so you would waste no time trying to get what you needed. Elizabeth was wisely keeping her hand angled in a way that your clit wasn’t getting any attention, although you were starting to be sure you could come even without that stimulation.

“Tell me what you need,” Elizabeth asked while she kissed down your jaw and neck.

“More,” you breathed out. One of your hands left the couch again to hold onto her shoulder and, if you held her too tightly, she didn’t complain. “I need more, please.”

What you heard next wasn’t what you wanted to hear, though. “Stop.”

“No,” you cried out in pure desperation. “Please, don’t. I’m so close, please.”

“Shh,” Elizabeth tried to calm you down, also running her hand up and down your thigh now. It did very little to appease you, although you enjoyed the soft touch. “I just want to slide another one in. Can I?”

You whined and your entire body shredded like there was an earthquake happening inside you. Honestly, it almost felt like it. However, you did stop and raised your hips enough to give Elizabeth enough room to slip a third finger inside your pussy. You were wet enough for her not to find any resistance and for you to go back ridding her fingers immediately after that. You moaned loudly at the delicious stretch, at the feeling of Elizabeth's lips on your nipple again, and, finally, of her thumb circling your clit. It was slow at first, but she noticed that you were about to cum and then she decided to help you get there by speeding up.

“Cum, baby,” she said - demanded, ordered, provoked it.

You came hard enough to make your vision go white for a moment, for your toes to curl, for your breath to hitch, for a loud, almost animalistic, moan to leave your lips. When you finally recovered your senses, you blinked your eyes open and glanced down at your girlfriend, only then realizing you had thrown your head back at some point. You tried to move as little as you could since you could feel how sensitive your entire body was feeling.

“Don’t look so smug,” you told her while rolling your eyes at the smile she was sporting.

“Hard not to,” Elizabeth replied happily. “After all of that.”

“I would walk out if I could get my legs to work right now.”

That made Elizabeth giggle - a giggle, so cute and innocent, the opposite of what the woman had been a minute before. “I will run you a bath to make it up to you,” she promised and then kissed the corner of your mouth.

You always thought that the best part of letting Elizabeth consume you like that was the way she treated you like a princess afterward. There was no way you weren’t the luckiest girl in the world.

[mj0702]

I saw your manager said yes to the sneak peak 👀

does that mean you’re giving it to us?? 🤞🏻

-🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟

“Less.. Toons.. Alexia “Don't touch that” Putellas... two times Ballon d'Or...” you started before getting big eyes as you frantically looked for Mapí

“... Winner, cariño... I won that trophy twice...” Alexia laughed as you stopped mid-sentence

“Yeah... sure... winner... twice” you said as realized that she had no idea that there was in fact just ONE whole Ballon d'Or... and one broken one

“You sure are something cariño” the blonde spaniard smiled as she hugged you

“Ew... go away... you're all sweaty” you faked disgust trying to push her off “AND you wear the wrong jersey...”

“I'm very sorry” Alexia said “apologetic” and hugged you even tighter “You want my jersey?”

“Nope” you snorted “But Lessi over here is a BIG fan”

“You want to swap?” the spaniard smiled at your friend who – in true Less fashion nodded frantically and tried to get her jersey over her head just to get stuck in it

You knew the second you saw her tuggin on it the second time that there definitely will be a clip of it – and it definitely will go viral.

With the help of Toons and you you managed to get her out of her jersey which she embaressed offered to a smirking Alexia

“Come on Stooges” you heard Lucy yell from the place she stood with Ona (and Mario for cover) “Time for huddle”

“But I didn't see Mapí” you whined back

“And it will stay that way” Alexia quickly said firmly

“We're on english soil... you can't tell me what to do in me home” you whined

“Lucia?!” Alexia didn't even bother to give in to your whine “you're hermanita wants to spend time with María”

“Absolutely not” Keira yelled from your other side where she was talking to Irene and Patri

“Tweedledumb” you yelled happily skipping over to the trio leaving Lessi and Toons awkwardly standing next to Alexia

“I was tweedledee” Patri said confused

“No... I'm pretty sure you were tweedledumb” you mused

“Bitsy... don't you have someone else to annoy” Keira pressed a soft kiss to your temple

“I would... but pretty spaniard won't let me go to colorbook spaniard” you whined

“Wrong.. I... won't let you go to Mapí...” Keira laughed

“But whyyyyy” you whined again

“Really?” the blonde raised her eyebrow at you

“Ugh...” you huffed before you suddenly perked up

“What have you seen now?” Keira immediately felt the change in your body language

“Not what... who” you smirked “Hola sexy spaniard”

“Hola little One... you behaving?” Jenni grinned at you as she came over

“Never... good game Hermosa”

All the players around you stopped talking looking at you confused as Jenni began smirking.

[mistydeyes]

tuberose and rose tinted glasses

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summary: A work trip to France lands you in a bar in Grasse. But it's the actions of a masked British man that puts him next to you with brandy in your hands.

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!Reader

warnings: swearing, harassment

a/n: literally writing this on my lunch break, pining over the idea of taking a trip to grasse and submerging myself in their fields of jasmine

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Grasse, France the world's capital of perfume. As you walked the late-night streets filled with fragrant, floral air, you couldn't help but feel melancholy that you were here on business and not for pleasure. Your head flooded with the smells of the city as you noted the various notes of tuberose and jasmine as you walked. Despite your frequent trips here, you still fell in love with the rows of flowers in peak bloom.

Your heels clicked on the ground as you saw a red awning with the letterings of a bar on it. You sought refuge after a long day of discussing new fragrances with your colleagues and creating the perfect blend for another company.

You pushed the doors open and sat at one of the velvet cushioned seats in the dimly lit place. As you patted the soft fabric with your fingertips, you admired how the bar was lit with a warm rose light. You noted only a small amount of patrons in the place. It looked to be only you, the bartender, and maybe three other men in this entire pink atmosphere. However, you paid them no mind as the bartender approached you.

"Qu’est-ce que je vous sers?” ("What can I get you?") He said, giving you a moment to comprehend what he was saying. You couldn't blame him, you were far from a stereotypical French woman. Maybe it was the way you carried yourself or just looked so typically American that tipped him off to your presence. However, your years working with your company and traveling from the US to France made you thankfully bilingual in the romantic language.

Just as he was about to ask the answer in English, you responded, "Je prends un un verre d'Armagnac Aristocrat, s’il vous plaît." ("I'll have a glass of Armagnac Aristocrat please.") Your clientele had refined your tastes. Never one for wine, you preferred a strong drink to accompany you.

"Fille chanceuse, je viens d'ouvrir une bouteille pour le monsieur là-bas," ("Lucky girl, I just opened a bottle for the gentleman over there") he replied and signaled to a man also sitting alone on the far side of the bar. Unknowingly, this man had luckily ordered a bottle of the spirit and allowed for your drink to be served immediately, the Armagnac being perfectly oxidized in the French air. The man in question was broad and had his head down. As the rose light illuminated his figure, he seemed more interested in his drink than the atmosphere around him. His eyes looked concentrated on the caramel liquid in his glass. You wondered what his full expression was as, despite his eyes, his face was primarily obstructed by a black mask.

Your eyes left the man as the bartender gently set your drink down on a scarlet napkin. "Merci," you said gently and he left you to enjoy your purchase. As you sipped on your drink, you savored the smokiness of the brandy coupled with the sharp bitterness of the Lillet. You swallowed the liquid, enjoying the subtle sweetness of the ginger ale. This was a drink to be sipped, not greedily drank as you enjoyed how the flavors came together to create a perfect beverage. You gently traced your fingers on the edge of the glass and smeared your reddened lipstick on its rim.

However, your moment of solace would soon be interrupted by a man who took an abrupt seat next to you. You could tell by the way he was swaying and leaning on the counter that he had one too many. He smelled like cheap cologne, probably something he bought as a souvenir and beer.

"Ma chérie, tu es very sexy" ("My darling, you are very sexy") the man leered over you. You couldn't help but roll your eyes. His poor mixing of French and English made you feel embarrassed for him. He acted like this was the epitome of flirtation and almost expected you to throw yourself on him.

You attempted to ignore the man, turning your body away and protectively hovering over your drink. He was determined, grabbing your shoulder to face him. "You smell expensive, tell me do you put your perfume where you want to be kissed?" he spoke sultry in another crude attempt at flirting.

"Not interested," you said, waving your arm in a dismissive motion. You just wanted to enjoy a night with some liquor and the smells of the town. Your gold bracelets clanked as you brushed him away. However, they soon clattered together as he aggressively grabbed your wrist.

"Oh so you speak English, sweetheart," he began, breathing his hot alcohol-laced breath in your face. "Lucky for you, I can speak French between your legs," he finished as you tried to free yourself from his grip. You pushed against his chest and elbowed him but he was relentless. Your eyes looked wildly around as you tried to receive any help, but seemingly the bar had emptied and the bartender was nowhere to be found. "C'mon sweetheart, let me show you a good time," he said and pressed harder on your wrist. Your arm pricked with pain from his grip. Suddenly his hands were pried off of you and he was thrown back.

You turned to see it was the man from across the bar, now standing next to you and glaring at the downed man. "She politely said 'fuck off, asshole', do you understand that?" he barked at him in a deep voice. The drunk man looked ready for a fight as he stood up. But something about the masked man's aura made him rescind. As quick as he came, the drunkard left. He ceremoniously flipped him off and with a string of profanities, exited the bar in a huff.

"Thank you," you said and motioned for the man to take a seat, "I think I owe you a drink." He briefly glanced over to where he sat and you both saw the empty glass. "Looks like you need a refill, anyways," you remarked. It seemed like he agreed as he took a seat to your right.

You signaled to the bartender, who for some reason had not acknowledged the entire fiasco that just occurred. He came over and you asked, "Un autre de ceux-ci pour moi et le monsieur," ("Another one of these for myself and the gentleman") and pointed to your dwindling glass. He nodded and went behind the counter to prepare both your liquid vices.

"So what brings you to Grasse? You don't seem like a Frenchman to me," you asked turning to face your new companion. In the bar's lighting, you could see him slightly better than before. His light eyelashes glistened in the light and contrasted with his amber eyes. You also noticed how his face mask had some kind of skull design painted on it.

"Business," he answered plainly, a man of few words you presumed. Somehow when he spoke, you were comforted by the smell of cigarettes on his lips and hints of brandy as they mixed in the air. "Me as well, but I always love coming here," you sighed. The bartender quietly came back with your drinks and you cheered the mysterious man next to you.

After savoring the liquor for a few moments he sparked up another conversation. "What is this? It's strong but good," he asked. "An Armagnac Aristocrat, bitter orange Lillet Blanc, and smokey Armagnac topped with a refreshing, crisp serving of ginger ale. C'est manifique" ("It's magnificent") you finished and gently placed the chill crystal glass on your bruised wrist.

"Well that is quite a description, I would guess you have these a lot," he joked and you could see the corners of his eyes crinkle as he smiled. "I'm a perfumer, my whole life is based on knowing the key elements to an ingredient and being able to illustrate it for others," you replied, practically telling your life story to this stranger.

After another long string of minutes, he spoke up again. "Makes sense why you're here, beautiful city," he said quietly. "Yes, it is. If you ever get a chance, a perfume tour would be worth your while." With that, he shook his head slightly and you knew this was a way of saying he was on his way out of the town.

"Next time, love, I appreciate the recommendation though." Maybe it was the inclusion of the nickname but you picked up on his British accent. London you thought, maybe Manchester, regardless it was as intoxicating as the liquor that was warming your insides.

As the time waned on, you ordered another drink. This time it was his recommendation, a Brandy Smash. Feeling slightly tipsy you joked, "Mhmm, I can taste the smokiness of the Armagnac with a subtle hint of cooling mint leaves and the sweet tang of sugar and lemon."

"And I would've thought perfumers are only good for the sense of smell," he replied. With his mask pulled up to his nose, you could see how beautiful his smile was. As you talked, his rosy lips formed into a calming curve and you could see some silvery scars dance in the bar's overhead light.

"I'm much more than that-" you stopped short. You realized after two hours of talking about yourself, you had not even asked his name. He noticed your hesitation and replied, "It's Simon."

Simon, meaning 'to listen' you thought to yourself, what a perfect name for a man who let you occupy his time with botanicals and knowledge of scents. "I'm Y/N," you said, "And thank you, Simon. This has been a perfect evening," you smiled gently.

"Yes it has, a perfect evening with perfect drinks," he replied and clinked his glass with yours. As he finished his drink, he slowly prepared to leave. He signaled the bartender over and you both paid your respective tabs. As he adjusted his jacket, something about Simon made you want to see him again. Maybe it was his chiseled features or his attentiveness to your words but whatever it was, it made you gently place a hand on his arm.

"I know this is a little forward but mind if I give you my number? Maybe I'll run into you here again or stateside?" you asked, preparing for rejection. This chance encounter was a plot device in movies, almost too good to be true. "Sure, love. Let's find you a pen," he said and pushed a napkin toward you.

"Puis-je avoir un stylo s'il vous plaît?" ("Can I have a pen, please?") you asked to the bartender who was polishing glasses. He slid one over to you and you wrote on the small red napkin you had been given. As you wrote on the napkin, you could feel Simon's eyes on you. He knew you were writing more than just a number based on the various lines written on the cloth.

You finished writing and leaned forward towards him, gently tucking the red item into his jacket pocket. If you had been any closer, you might have heard his rapid heartbeats and quickened breath. "Au revoir, Simon," you said and saw yourself to your hotel for the night, savoring the smell of jasmine and lavender in the air.

Simon took the napkin out of his pocket, the color reminding him of your sanguine cheeks and burgundy lipstick. His calloused fingers gently held the note as he read, "Pleasure to meet you, Simon. Thank you for listening and sharing a drink. Just a recommendation but a refined man like you should try, Gentleman by Givenchy. Until we meet again," followed by your number. He too walked out of the bar to embrace the late-night air. But as he walked the quiet streets, he now had a new appreciation for the intoxicating scents of Grasse.

[yuyu1024]

Hide and seek

Pairings: Seonghwa x Y/N

Genre/tags: childhood friends

Warning: 🔞 smut/angst, cursing, fingering, first time, semi public, fetish/kinks, jealousy [lmk if i miss anything]

Words: 1.5k

Disclaimer:

- this story is just made up

- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊

Note: repost. Check pinned post for more 🫶🏻

Likes and reblogs are much appreciated 😊

***

Seonghwa's parent have invited you to stay for a few days in their home for the holidays. You are supposed to be at home yes but since your parent's are currently in abroad for their work, its fine. Plus their family and yours are very much close. You and Seonghwa basically grew up together.

"Want to watch a movie? Or play a game? We'll have the house to ourselves for a few hours." Seonghwa says as the two of you are busy cleaning the kitchen.

"Where are your parent's going again?"

"Mom and Dad is going to visit our neighbor who got hospitalized a few days ago. She's a close friend of Mom."

"Oh... I see..." you answer as you finish wiping the table. "A movie sounds good... I'm not good at playing game."

The first movie he puts on is a rom-com. Both of you are giggling and smiling at the movie. You both love this genre. You two are laying down on the sofa, snuggling whilst he's arm is around you. Pretty cozy.

You two are obviously comfortable with each other. You are friends for years now and a little skinship here and there is nothing to you guys. Well, it is nothing not until when raging hormones kicks in. Plus the movie gets a bit steamy.

Both of you felt a bit stiff when the light hearted movie turned into something a bit romantic in a sense. Yes it is rom-com but you didn't expect to see extreme and sexy scenes.

The male and female lead in the movie started making out which is very good. However what woke up your horny sensations is when the male lead started to sensually touch the female lead in secret. That scene peaked both of your attention. The thrill of not getting caught whilst in public.

"That's..." you sigh trying to comment or break the ice but you are lost with words.

Seonghwa starts to shift on his position so you could not notice the hardness forming inside his pants. While you on the other hand, you begin to slightly close your legs together coz' you are starting the feel the need to scratch the itch in there.

"Fuck." Seonghwa hisses under his breathe, nervous. You didn't heard him because you are still floating in your dream, your imagination where you are the female lead in the movie getting fingered.

But just a few heart beats after as the movie continues, you felt something tickle you sending goosebumps to your spine.

You look down and you see Seonghwa's delicate finger touching the hard tip of your boobs that's peeking through your top. "Aaa-" you exhale, your mouth opens as he continue circling his fingers on it. "S-seonghwa?" You raise your head up to look at him.

He is looking at you, watching your reaction. His face filled with a soft expression and yet alluring gaze.

"Do you like it?" He whispers seductively and then continues to slide his hand lower reaching the special place between your legs.

"I..." he cups your core making you wince. "S-seo..." you begin to blush as he starts to caress you down there. You grab onto him and burry your face on his chest.

"Want me to stop?"

You shake your head vigorously. "Please... no.. I..."

"Look at me..."

You wrap your arms around his waist. Your ears on his chest. You could hear the loud bang of his heart. He is as nervous as you are.

"Please... look at me. I want to see your face when I make you feel good."

Slowly you adjust yourself for his benefit and to yours. You spread your legs a little bit more and got closer to him so he could embrace you.

"You're shaking..." he kisses you on the temple.

"I'm scared..."

"Of me?"

"No...I'm scared... we'll get caught..."

He smiles and kisses you this time on your cheek. "This is your first time... I'll make sure we'll not get caught..."

Yes. This is your first time. You've never tried anything more than a kiss before. You are scared. Plus you don't want to give it to just any guy. You wanted it to be special. So you've been holding on to it for quite some time now.

"I am getting horny watching this damn movie..." he adds

"Me too." You answer honestly

He smirks after hearing you answer and then he lowers his head and kisses you on the lips.

Of course, He knows. He is touching you down there and you know how wet you are.

"Can I do the honor of being your first?" He asks as he pulls away from the kiss

You didn't even think about it. It's Seonghwa. Your friend and also at the same time, the guy you've been crushing on for years. If you are going to loose your V card... its to him. He is worthy... right?

"Please..." you answer

He moves the duvet over the two of you, to hiding what he's about to do.

"We'll do it slowly... I will not rush it. But.... would you like to unzip my pants...?" he asks you

You are shaking but also excited as you are start to reveal the length he have been hiding in there.

"Oh fuck." You are stunned at how it looks. The veins. How red, curvey and warm it is.

"Touch it." He whispers and then kisses the back of your ears. "Feel it... be familiar with it."

You feel like your heart is in your throat. "Wow..." You wrap your cold hands around it and start to caress the tip with your thumb.

You are doing it slow as you are amused seeing a dick this close and actually touching one. You are gentle and yet holding onto it tightly which is making him react.

"I'm leaking already... we haven't even done anything yet." He slides his hands in your jogger pants and went straight into you. "Fuck.. you're so wet." He snarls. "Damn it. You're making me more excited..."

You breathing starts to shake as he massages your core.

"Aah... shit... aaa... aaaa..." your cries are music to his ears.

"Fuck... you're turning me on even more..." you feel his dick twitch

He is very sensual to you. He's not just being steady and touching you. He is literally kissing you every chance he could get. On your neck, your shoulder, your cheeks, your forehead, and your lips. He is very intimate whilst he is talking to you. This makes you feel like this is not just a fucking or one heck of a make out session. It's special. Atleast for you since it is your first time.

And then as you continue to enjoy touching him, a thought came to your mind. "Will... you... fit me? I mean... You are long... and...and thick."

He snorts a smile, "We'll take it slow as I said... plus... I can losen you up a bit."

"How?"

"Like this..."

He then enters one finger in you catching you off guard. You yelp because of the surprise. At first it felt weird but then as soon as he gently moves it in and out, your eyes starts to relax and roll in pleasure.

"One more..." he insirts one finger again and it makes you want to scream for dear life.

"Oh shit!" You close your eyes and allow your hips to move along with his rythm. "I'm... aaaa... nngggghhha..." you cover your mouth with one hand trying not to scream

He hisses as he speeds up his pace. "You're so fucking hot!"

You lower the duvet covering you as he asks you to pull down your tank top. He wants you to pull out your boobs out.

"Perfect. Beautiful tits." He lowers his head and let his skillful tongue tickle your nipples.

"Haaaa... Seonghwa!" You moan holding onto whatever you could grab. He is finger fucking you whilst pleasuring your tits.

What a fucking good holiday for you.

You're almost there. About to reach your peak but then both of you got surprised when you hear a car screeching outside. His parents are back.

"Oh god..." you panicked, breathing heavily. "Seonghwa, what do we do?" You still have tears in your eyes, asking him

He pulls his fingers out of you and licked it. "Hide in my room... I will seek you there.. I'll welcome them and tell them you went to bed early."

"In your room? Will they not be suspecious?"

He smiles and grabs your face to kiss you one more time, biting your lower lip at the end and says, "I'll tell them I'm sleeping on the floor... don't worry..."

You pout. "Are you really? Sleeping on the floor?"

"Of course not." He smirks before he pulls his briefs and pants up, hiding his length from your sight. "You still haven't had a taste of what I can give you."

[a-spicy-reader]

THE SHOW

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

English is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes

----

Synopsis Behind the scenes of "The Show," a makeup artist and host Xiaojun engage in a game of teasing and desire. When tensions reach their breaking point, backstage work will never be the same again.

-----------------

O estúdio do "The Show" estava agitado com atividade, como sempre. Como maquiadora da equipe, Mia tinha se acostumado ao ritmo frenético. Mas desde que Xiaojun começou a apresentar o programa, a rotina parecia um pouco... diferente.

That Monday, as Mia was touching up one of the guest's makeup, she felt a heavy gaze on her back. Turning discreetly, she saw Xiaojun leaning against the wardrobe bench, watching her with that smirk that seemed to be keeping secrets.

"Something wrong?" Mia asked, arching her eyebrows.

"No, nothing," he replied casually. "I just thought you were more focused than usual today."

"Is that bad?"

"Not at all. Focus is sexy," he said, winking before walking away.

Mia rolled her eyes but felt the heat rise up her neck. He was always like this – carefree, charismatic, with a charm that seemed tailor-made to unsettle.

On Tuesday, he was sitting in the makeup chair, as he did before every broadcast. When Mia approached with the brush, he smiled, tilting his head slightly.

“Are you going to make me look pretty today?” Xiaojun teased, his eyes fixed on hers through the reflection in the mirror.

“That would be impossible,” Mia replied, feigning indifference.

“Impossible because I’m already handsome?” He arched one of his striking eyebrows, the movement making Mia's stomach churn. She laughed softly. “Impossible because even makeup can’t do miracles.”

He laughed, but there was something else in the way he looked at Mia at that moment – ​​a challenge. She tried to ignore it, focusing on her work, but the tension between them seemed to grow with each touch of the brush on his skin.

Later that day, he appeared in the dressing room while Mia was packing her things. “Did you forget something?” she asked, not even looking at him.

“No. I just wanted to say that I liked your answer earlier. But… I still think you think I’m handsome.” He moved closer, standing close enough that Mia could smell his perfume – fresh, yet woody.

She pushed him lightly, laughing. “Good night, Xiaojun.”

By Wednesday, the game between them had already reached another level. During lunch break, he walked past the corner where Mia was sitting, scrolling through her phone.

“You look tired. Want some coffee?”

“No, thanks.”

“Are you sure? Because I have enough energy to cheer you up,” he said, bending down slightly so that their faces were level.

“You really think all your pick-up lines work, huh?” Mia teased.

“Com você, ainda não sei. Mas estou gostando de tentar.” Ele piscou e foi embora, deixando-a com um sorriso involuntário.

Mais tarde, enquanto retocava a maquiagem antes do show começar, ele segurou a mão de Mia por um segundo a mais enquanto ela ajustava o delineador em seus olhos. "Suas mãos são sempre tão firmes?"

“Only at work,” she replied, trying to keep her tone professional.

“Then I need to see you outside of here to find out how they look.”

Mia let out a short laugh, but the impact of his comment lasted much longer.

On Thursday, the tension reached its peak. Since the morning, the gazes between you and Xiaojun had been charged. He would lean a little closer when he spoke to you, and you could feel the heat growing with each interaction.

By the end of the day, the studio was almost empty. Mia was organizing her materials when she heard footsteps behind her. Turning, she found Xiaojun, already without his blazer, his white shirt slightly open, his striking eyebrows arched in an amused look.

“Are you avoiding me?” he asked, casually.

“No.”

“Then why do you seem so nervous when I’m around?”

“You’re imagining things,” Mia replied, but her voice wasn’t as firm as she would have liked.

He laughed, leaning even closer. “I’m sure I’m not.”

He leaned against the makeup cart, so close that Mia could feel the heat of his body. His fingers brushed lightly against the edge of the table behind her, and his breath, warm and rhythmic, touched her skin.

“Three days,” he began, his voice low and husky. “Three days of you driving me crazy with this game. But if you want me to stop now, just tell me.”

Mia didn’t say anything. It was as if the words had been ripped from her throat. Instead, her fingers instinctively gripped his shirt, pulling him closer. He chuckled softly, but there was something different about the sound now. It wasn’t playful or teasing—it was something darker, thick with anticipation.

“I knew it,” he murmured, his eyes boring into hers. He tilted his head, his lips inches from hers, but he didn’t kiss her right away. Xiaojun wanted to savor every moment, watch her every reaction.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispered again, almost like a challenge.

“I don’t want you to stop,” Mia finally managed to say, her voice coming out huskier than she expected.

It was like a signal. In one swift movement, he turned her around so that her back was to the mirror, pressing his body against hers. His heat was almost unbearable, and the strength with which he held her was a clear reminder of who was in control at that moment.

His fingers slid down the curve of her hip, up the side of her body as he pressed his lips against her neck. He started slowly, kissing and nibbling the sensitive skin, each touch sending waves of heat that made her entire body react.

“You have no idea how much I’ve thought about this,” he said between kisses. His voice was so low that Mia almost didn’t hear it, but the weight of his words was undeniable.

His hands began to explore, sliding down her thighs until they reached the hem of her dress. He pulled it up slowly, his fingers tracing patterns on her exposed skin, while his eyes, reflected in the mirror, were fixed on hers.

“Look at us,” he ordered, his voice firm.

Mia tried to look away, but he held her face, forcing her to look at the reflection. “I want you to see what you do to me.”

Looking into the mirror, she saw the intensity on his face, his lips parted and his eyes dark with desire. He slid one hand around her waist, while the other gripped her thighs tightly, making it clear that there was no more room for resistance – not that she wanted to resist.

Xiaojun leaned forward, pressing his hips against her. The movement drew a low moan from her lips, and he smiled, satisfied. “I knew you liked this game,” he murmured, his fingers finally reaching the delicate fabric of her panties.

He pulled them aside, the teasing touch eliciting an involuntary gasp from her. “You’re wet,” he commented, his voice almost a growl. “I haven’t even done anything yet.”

His fingers began to play with Mia’s clit, movements precise and calculated. Her body arched involuntarily against him, and a cocky grin appeared on Xiaojun’s face. “Like this,” he encouraged, his breath coming in short pants.

When Mia tried to turn towards him, overcome by an impulse to see him closer, Xiaojun held her hips firmly, keeping her in place. “Stay like this. I want to see you in the mirror while I make you cum.”

His movements became faster, more intense, as her body reacted wildly to his touch. Her moans filled the small dressing room, muffled only by the sound of Xiaojun’s heavy breathing in her ear.

“You’re going to cum for me, aren’t you?” he teased, biting her earlobe lightly. Mia nodded frantically, unable to form any coherent words.

When her climax finally hit, it was like an overwhelming wave that stole all the air from her lungs. Her muscles trembled under his touch, and Xiaojun continued until he was sure she had enjoyed every second of it.

Xiaojun remained against the closed door, his eyes fixed on Mia, as if he was still absorbing every moment of what had just happened. His breathing was heavy, but a slow smile began to form. “You have no idea what you just started,” he murmured, taking a step forward.

“You’re shaking,” he commented, his voice low and teasing. “I’ve barely started.”

Mia tried to regain her composure, but the desire was still palpable. Xiaojun reached out, lightly touching her chin to lift her face. “You know this isn’t going to stop here, right?” he said, his voice a husky whisper. “Every time I see you, it’s a reminder of what I want. And right now… I want it all.”

She shifted, trying to regain control, but his gaze burned, promising more than words could say. He stopped beside her, his fingers running lightly down her arm, sending shivers down her skin.

“Finish your work,” he said, his voice low and commanding, “but this conversation… is not over.”

Com um último olhar penetrante, Xiaojun abriu a porta e saiu, deixando o espaço vazio, mas ainda preenchido com a energia do momento.

[cepetriwrites]

Behind the Chapter (Into the Eye Ch 32)

This chapter was a doozy and involved a lot of research wormholes. Let's get cracking.

Language

Trying to depict a different language using italics or valyrian for every foreign language Helaena might encounter was driving me crazy. Also Helaena may or may not be going to other places in Essos and I was having a difficult time conceptualizing how easy it would be for Helaena to understand the languages so I got my anthropologist sister to assign languages to the different places of Essos, on the basis High Valyrian would be latin. Behold her wonderful language map:

(in case you can't read it:

Braavos – Quebecois

Lorath – Dutch

Norvos – German

Pentos – swiss german  

Myr – Italian

Tyrosh – Spanish

Lys – Portugeuse  

Volantis – French

Qohor – Polish

Sarnor – Czech

Mantarys – Hungarian

Dothraki – Russian

Lhazar – Monogolian

Meereen – Slovaki

Yunkai – Yemeni

Omber – Ukrainian

Rhoynish - Gaul

Common/Westeros - English

First Men Language - Welsh

So the Lyseni will be written in Portuguese, if you see Latin that's high Valyrian. I plan to still use High Valyrian words, but this method was helpful with writing. Plus I get to use different languages :)

Mendigo Inspiration

One of Mendigo's inspiration (can't reveal the other due to potential spoilers ;) ) was the character Mary Faber from the Bloody Jack series by L.A. Meyer. Another is the Artful Dodger from Oliver Twist.

Her name was originally going to be Urchin but after Portuguese became the language of Lys I changed it to the translation "mendigo"

Helaena’s Hair

Reference for Helaena's new hair cut

Pearl Diving

I cannot begin to describe the amount of time I spent researching pearl diving and free diving. Details like the fact that only certain families were allowed to pearl dive where inspired from this article. Along with the tools pearl divers would use.

I also learned about a terrifying thing called "surface blackout" where your blood becomes too hypoxic and you can pass out at the surface and potentially die. I used this article to write about the proper recovery breath holds that help prevent surface blackout.

Also I learned there are different types of pearls based on the location you harvest them from.

Festival of Love

This is a piece of world building I made up. The Festival of Love is a seven day festival that is dedicated to the different types of love based off of the Greek forms of loves. These are the seven different types celebrated in Lys:

Eros (sexy time)

Philia (friendship)

Agape (god worship and charity)

Storage (family)

Philautia (self love)

Ludus (playful love)

Sacrificing goats, making a goat-date marinade dish, and the practice of men running around naked and whipping women with goat hides is all inspired off of the real life Ancient Roman festival of Lupercalia. This video provided the recipe and interesting facts about the ancient festival.

Pillowhouse Wine

"It was a tart, almost bitter flavor, it lacked sweetness like other wines Mendigo had stolen before. Mendigo tried another swig, it did not improve, only making her face feel warm."

This sentence is a little personal easter egg inspired from a different fanfic. Alicent Reverses the Hourglass by Reddish on AO3. If you my blog you probably know I'm obsessed with it as I've made a ton of memes about it. Non spoiler. One chapter mentions a wine called Lover's Lips.

“This wine was known for one thing. Men in Lys would drink a copious amount of it the night before they were to spend with their paramour as it would keep a man ‘at his peak’ for longer during the act.

One would only need about half a cup before being able to sustain himself for at least a few hours. Any more than that and the man would experience a fever-pitch of ravenous desire that would confound the senses completely. Too much of Lover’s Lips could make a man impossible to satiate for sometimes an entire day long.” - Alicent Reverses the Hourglass

It's basically Viagra wine, which is basically vasodilator (opens up your blood vessels) which is why it makes Mendigo's face feel warm, because her blood vessels are dilating.

Oyster Bake

This was the recipe that inspired Mendigo and Helaena's oyster bake:

Ironically I spent a lot of time researching seafood recipes despite not being the biggest fan of seafood.

Mendigo's Fracture

The "crushing syndrome" complication Mendigo experienced is called Acute Compartment Syndrome in the medical field. It is when there is increased pressure within a muscle compartment and is a medical emergency. The pressure will deprive muscles and nerves of blood flow and will cause permanent muscle damage, paralysis or death if not treated.

Symptoms include:

Pain - unrelieved by pain medicine (which is why Mendigo complains the milk of poppy does nothing)

Pallor

Paralysis - early sign that starts with numbness and tingling

Pulseness (late sign)

Poikilothermia

Edema

Treatment is a fasciotomy, where they cut through strong connective tissue to relieve pressure.

I had to study fractures and their complications for one of my nursing finals and it's 100% the reason why it was included in the chapter.

This was the video of a fasciotomy I watched to write the scene (don’t watch if you’re squeamish)

Mendigo's Illness

Mendigo contracted mono. Her description of her condition is based off of my mom's quote when she caught mono: "it feels like you got hit by a mac truck, it backed up, hit you again, and then the driver got out and beat you up."

I wanted a disease that would make you feel awful but not kill you because antibiotics don't exist.

Menina uses Kudzu root - a plant from Asia - to treat her fever and mallow root for sore throat.

Philia Bond

I already knew I would have the philia bond, but there is some similarities between it and matelotage. A type of civil union used between European sailors, particularly pirates. There is debate about whether it was platonic or romantic. In Mendigo and Helaena's case it is platonic.

Painting Inspo of Mendigo & Helaena

John William Waterhouse - The Rescue (1890)

[depressopax]

Dale Cooper NSFW Alphabet

Part 3 - L - P

Fandom - Twin Peaks

|| Part 1 || Part 2 ||

Pairing: Dale Cooper x gender neutral reader Genre: Smut, headcanons Warning(s): Sexual content! MDNI! Words: 600 Summary: Part 3 of my "Dale Cooper NSFW alphabet challenge". L-P (Location, motivation, "No", oral, pace) English is not my main language, if I make any spelling mistakes please let me know so I can improve my writing! <3 || Masterlist || Request ||

(HOLY SHIT THE GIF GOT ME ACTING UP-)

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Bed! Dale likes privacy. He wants you alone and to really take his time together with you. 

…And he wants to be able to cuddle afterwards. Homeboy tired af after sex lmao

It is also the most “hygienic” place. 

He is not a fan of doing it against a table etc

…His office is the only exception ;)

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Dirty talking. He loves it when you tell him all the things you want to do with him/the things you want him to do to you.

In a modern time AU… I’d say nudes, too. 

Nothing better than getting nudes from you. It awkward, but he likes the thrill of you teasing him with sexy photos whilst he works. 

He blushes like crazy 

Dale would probably have a whole private album on his phone with you.

Not necessarily nudes, just any photo you look hot/cute in to keep his fantasies going.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Dale is pretty “vanilla” in bed.

Sure he likes trying new things nut he gets really shy and uncomfortable if it’s too kinky.

He wouldn’t enjoy anything to do with pain and blood. 

He hates the thought of seeing you in pain. It doesn’t matter if it’s part of the act, he wants to pleasure you - not hurt you.

Same thing goes for him. His job is dangerous enough in all they ways he can end up hurt. With you, he wants to feel safe and in bed he wants it to be all about pleasure and maybe intensity.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

LOVES giving.

Man… I could talk about this for hours.

…But I’m not gonna do that. Unless…

In your relationship, Dale was insecure at first.

But after the reactions from you when he used his oral skills - he was hooked.

He is amazed by how amazing he can make you feel, just by using his mouth and tongue.

He’s passionate doing it, too.

Slow, teasing movements and eye contact.

He likes it when you push him around a bit - like grabbing his hair, holding him in place or squeezing your thighs gently around his head etc etc…

He also knows how to use his hands during oral. Double pleasure it is 👀

Your moans, squirms and the way you taste on his tongue… Sometimes that’s honestly enough for him to cum undone. 

How can he not? Everything about the situation is arousing.

He’ll literally beg to go down on you. 

Yk what? Fuck it, Ima write headcanons for this. REMIND ME PLEASE, SOMEONE

Ofc he likes receiving too.

He’s not the head-pusher type. 

It’s totally up to you how you want to blow him. 

…Giving him heads under his desk when he does paperworks 👀

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He prefers slow, sensual and loving.

He likes long, deep strokes and really savoring the feelings of being inside you.

This way, he can take in the feeling of your tightness and warmth, and feel your insides hug around his dick 

Although, fast and rough is a good way to release tension.

If you are more of a sub/bottom, he will not say no to fucking you hard and fast

…And he gives some DAMN GOOD (pun intended) aftercare after rough sex <3

If you are a dom/top, he will sometimes ask you to show him no mercy. 

Sometimes there’s no better stress-remedy than to get fucked dumb by the person he loves 🥹

*sigh* *opens character ai*

[ystk-archive]

Hi! Do you ever think you'd write longer form essays/works? I would def be interested on your more in-depth thoughts on some of the stuff you touch on in answers lol. I wanted to follow up to your response to that Meg ask to ask why it seems like things were different with coltemonikha despite Kate Sakai being in a similar position (not primarily a musician/idol, actually involved in being creative in their work with Nakata)? Like i feel like people were/are generally fond of clm?

Honestly I'd love to write some kind of a book about all this buuut J-electro was a niche and now severely forgotten brief moment in Japanese pop (i.e. how do you pitch this idea) + book is a big undertaking (if you do it right, and the last thing I'd want to be is one of those gaijin who writes a questionably accurate or downright untrue English-language book about Japanese music or something that's just a boring puff piece altogether). At the same time I've thought more and more about just writing again in general about whatever -- doesn't have to be about Nakata necessarily. Though I've also thought about dipping into YouTube video essays since the one about him that's on there is...anyway.

COLTEMONIKHA was just a completely different thing from the core: Kate and Nakata were an actual duo unit, they didn't have much funding so pretty underground (only performances were really at club venues and then Kate did a show by herself at Sanrio Puroland for the best-of compilation in 2011; none of it was ever filmed and sold), music was different, and Kate's style of singing was more palatable to a wide audience. They also conveniently ended in 2007, so Kate was spared from any scrutiny moving forward into Nakata's peak years.

I'm not gonna mince my words here, a lot of people just disliked MEG because they found her singing grating and/or they thought she was ugly. Her image (and Ami's, coincidentally) while she worked with Nakata was also pretty sexy, whereas Perfume and especially Kyary were the total opposite, so it was just a lot of dull virtue policing.

[user-needs-new-hyperfixation]

Sk8? Love to see that you like Matchablossom. Literally my favourite ship in sk8. Peak dynamic.

They're SO good, I love them! Here, have a half-complete domestic confession scene.

Kojiro isn’t much taller than Kauru, but he’s a lot broader. So the stolen hoodie that Kauru’s wearing -- in a dark purple that sets off his hair beautifully – falls to mid-thigh. And then it’s just miles and miles of bare, toned legs ending in hideous fuzzy socks covered in emojis, which presumably Miya is to blame for. He’s punch-in-the-gut stunning: sexy and beautiful and so very silly. “Madre di Dio,” Kojiro mutters, and Kauru snorts derisively, reflexively, the way he always does when Kojiro breaks out the Italian. It doesn’t manage to halt what comes out next, unstoppable. “I love you.” Kauru blinks at him, bleary, then yawns so hard his jaw audibly cracks. “Me getting hurt freaked you out more than I gave it credit for, didn’t it?” Kauru shuffles around and flumps down on the couch, throwing his feet up on the coffee table next to Kojiro’s leg. He’s wearing unfairly tiny blue pajama shorts with little sleeping sheep on them, and Miya probably can’t be blamed for that. He knocks his foot against Kojiro’s thigh. “I love you too, banana brain, but don’t get used to hearing it.” It’s an out, an escape route. Kauru is sleepy and slightly concussed and hadn’t caught the meaning in the declaration, and it would be so easy to leave it at this; an uncommon but pleasant exchange of affection between dear friends. Kojiro finds, to his own surprise, that he has no interest in escaping.

*one of the reasons I can't actually bring myself to publish fic for stories set in non-English speaking places is that it's SO easy to have them make no sense. For example, I know very little about Japanese, but I know that a lot of languages have different words for different types of love. So there's a very good chance that this doesn't work at all. One of the reasons I love Yuumori; I am very English-speaking and I'm less likely to make myself look ridiculous writing about Brits. 😅

[theintrovertbean]

The Night is Ours

Aka my poor attempt at writing smut.

WE ARE SMASHING THE COUNTESS TONIGHT BOIS!!!

Hello, hi, and welcome back. It is I, Esz, the biggest Nadi simp ever known to exist. This time, I bring you some sexy stuff. I actually haven't written smut in three years, and tbh, I did have to step out of my comfort zone to write this, so yeah, please, be nice because, man, when I tell you that my bitch ass struggled 💀

It's kinda short, like your dad's pp, but this is what I was thinking about while listening to this song on repeat. It's straight af, I know, but we're going to ignore that. Listen to it while reading if you'd like, but I think that it eventually stops fitting the lil spicy story? Idk.

I should probably say that English isn't my first language (which is true) because that makes every spicy writing better. And it's also probably not your usual smut, but you'll see. I tried to be a bit poetic.

Nadia is afab and MC is as gender-neutral as they can be.

Enjoy, babes ;)

Minors DNI

The Night is Ours

The door closes. They waste no time, and their lips find each other without any hesitation, tender and loving. They have been thinking about the same thing: as soon as it is all over and when they are all alone, they will get lost in each other's arms. And that is what they do, their hands now freely roaming in an effort to feel as much of the other person as they can, to blindly memorize the feeling of every inch of their bodies.

"Hmm…" Nadia breaks the kiss with a small sound, her eyes red with lust. "You are irresistible, my dear. What am I going to do with you?"

"Everything," MC whispers, allowing themselves to run a finger along the Countess' bottom lip. "We are alone now; no one will interrupt us, my love. The night is ours."

She smiles with nothing but love and adoration dancing on her features. "And you are mine, MC. And I am yours." Then the Countess leans down again, capturing MC's mouth in another sensual kiss.

Their attention focuses only on each other, the love, and the passion they share. They are lost in their maze of love, in the feeling of first their hearts and soon their bodies becoming one.

Hands brush against skin as they reach under layers of fabric, lazily shedding them and allowing them to fall on the ground like leaves of silk. There is no rush, and they both let themselves succumb to a slow pace.

The magician's eyes fall on Nadia's body. They have seen her naked before in the baths and while she dressed, and yet never so bare and vulnerable before. She is always so confident in her appearance, as she should be, for she is the most beautiful woman to ever live, but she can't help the blush that appears on her cheeks under MC's gaze.

She is the woman, a goddess meant to be loved and worshipped. Her body must be appreciated, showered by not only MC's eyes but their lips too. Every caress, every faint touch of hers sends a shiver running down MC's spine.

And MC. Precious, dear MC. A work of art, the embodiment of beauty and perfection. A magical creature in both looks and nature. It is no wonder that the Countess is mad with desire.

Minds clouded by lust, they fall on the bed without ever taking their hands off each other, not even for a moment. They both moan, breaths heavy, their need reaching its final peak.

She descends on them first, leaving trails of kisses on MC's body. Her lips burn their skin like fire, but without the pain, for tonight is only about love and pleasure. Nadia explores them thoroughly, and her mouth lingers for a moment more when she finds a spot that earns a particularly good reaction from them. She allows herself to wander, to explore the map that their body is with a hunger for the grandest of treasures.

"Countess..." The magician exhales when Nadia finally rewards them with a single, gentle kiss between their thighs, but she immediately withdraws. She looks at them expectantly, and MC quickly corrects themselves. "N-Nadia..." They stutter, unable to control themselves any longer, but she knows that. The past few days have been a constant torture, nearly getting caught on multiple occasions, always having to stop for whatever reason, and while she loves to tease them, now it is not the time.

Her eyes stare into their soul like a snake, penetrating their mind, body, and soul with sweet, maddening poison while her mouth pleasures them. Nadia is like poison. Delicious and addictive, setting MC's veins on fire whenever she makes a sound, low hums, or even moans that vibrate through their core and rush through MC's entire being, spreading inside them.

She sucks and licks at all the right places, her work intense and purely focused on reliving MC of days of torment. Some of her memories might be lost, but Nadia knows what she is doing, and now, with the magician squirming under her, she makes good use of her talents.

And when MC finally reaches their climax, they can feel her smirk against their flesh; she is pleased with herself. She takes the same route while kissing up their body, with MC still a trembling mess beneath her.

When her mouth reaches their face, she kisses MC again but soon finds herself on her back with the magician straddling her waist. Her eyes widen in surprise, and then she smiles, feeling a sense of pride in her chest. Her MC is not only smart, adorable, and gorgeous but also exceptionally capable. More than worthy of a Countess' affections.

MC's lips brush against Nadia's skin, their hot breath making her shudder, and her hand reaches for their back. When they reach her breast, she inhales sharply, then Nadia whines when their tongue makes contact with her nipple. She tries to grab onto something, her nails digging into MC's back. Her royal composure falls apart, and she is now at MC's mercy, craving every touch they have to offer.

Then they move, going lower until they are on their knees, where they belong, at the feet of the goddess they are so determined to worship tonight, and they find her slick and wanting with desire for them.

The first touch of their mouth makes her whimper, and then she bites her bottom lip, attempting to silence herself quite unsuccessfully. And as MC continues, they feel ecstatic, completely lost in Nadia and desperate to please her, their hunger almost driving them crazy.

Her scent, her taste, the feeling of her, and her, her, just her. Nadia is not only a person but also a feeling. She feels like experiencing love for the first time. She is a sensation in MC's chest that almost makes them cry happy tears. She feels strong, almost overwhelmingly so. She is joy, almost more than MC can bear. She is the sudden realization when all logic is gone, and then it suddenly hits that this...this is what love feels like.

MC gently grabs onto her thigh, gripping and caressing her flesh there and slowly moving upward. Two fingers are now entering her, and her back arches off the bed. She cries out, her voice making the magician groan into her. Her eyes are closed, but her mouth is open as the most delicious of moans escape her lips. With one hand, she's gripping the sheets, and with the other, she's holding MC's head, fingers tangled in their hair, beckoning them to give her more and guiding them towards her sweetest of spots.

The slightly increasing tremble in her thighs is only an encouragement, and they keep going. Her breaths have turned into short pants, and she can no longer focus on anything but her MC and the divine, wicked combination of their mouth and fingers working towards her orgasm. She comes with a loud moan, her legs squeezing the magician's head between them.

Then MC climbs back onto the bed, settling next to their Countess, and despite the darkness, they can see that she is smiling, happy and content, their heart melting at the sight.

Soon, their lips find each other again because the night is still young and far from over. They still have time to further explore their love for each other.

That night, even the moon is shining only for the Countess and her Magician.