#they totally swear in hungarian

[sunny-honeytears]

I fucking love the concept of Tanz der vampire as a hungarian.

Because yeah it plays out in Erdély (too lazy to type out Transylvania every time) which is part of Romania now, BUT the show is set in late 19th century so preWW1 SO PRE TREATY OF TRIANON which means Herbert and Krolock are hungarians.

This also means they most likely speak hungarian as every character, expect Alfred and Professor

For some reason the hungarian production kept calling Sarah Sarah, but the og movie changed it to Sára which is as you can guess is the hungarian variant of Sarah.

But the best thing? As a hungarian, knowing whats going on around the Castle. For example, imagine the Count seeing the current Prince, Rákóczi GO AND ATTACK WITHOUT PERMISSION FROM THE OTTOMAN EMPIRE AND LITERALLY END THE GOLDEN AGE OF ERDÉLY BECAUSE HE WANTED TO BE THE POLISH KING

and now you lose a lot of wealth depending on your position, you get attached to the Ottoman empire and have to sit another couple of decades until Hungary gets claimed back, only now you arent actually part of the country anymore. But thats surely it right? NO BECAUSE GUESS WHAT A GUY FROM THE SAME FAMILY STARTS A WAR OF INDEPENDENCE -

AND LOSES.

And they just....sat through it.

Those two dudes watched the entire language get reformed by almost one guy.

They saw the ENTIRE war of independence in 1848-49

THEY SAT THROUGH THE AUSTRO-HUNGARIAN COMPROMISE

Like imagine the conversations they must have had

"Dad do you remember Zrínyi the guy who wrote bangers like Szigeti Veszedelem and Az török áfium ellen való orvosság?"

"Yeah what of him?"

"His son was executed for treason, his grand daughter was named the Bravest woman in europe by LOUIS XIV. oh and his great grandson started a war of independence"

"What the fuck Herbert"

Imagine hearing about this kid called Petőfi writing really good poems than you wake up one day and BUMM he started a revolution and then just disappeared into the fogg in one battle and still noone knows where he is.

I could, and will go on and on about this because I don't even have to stretch to say they're hungarian

[zabala0z]

Hi I listened to six episodes of S3 and I’m back. I have nothing to do and school starts on Monday so lemme give my thoughts 🗣️

MAG 81: A Guest For Mr. Spider

Happy that Jon’s safe and in hiding! I remember Georgie was mentioned in Melanie Kings first statement so I guess she counts as a friend. Another spider theme. There’s so many spiders and I’m wondering what entity that could like fall under. I’m curious on “The Eye” because it hasn’t done anything, it just watched. Which makes sense. But Michael mentioned before that Jon being protected by it so is it like…chill????

MAG 82: The Eyewitnesses

Oh I hate Elias that little bitch I swear to god. Also the fact that the recorder didn’t turn off when they tried during Tims statement was interesting. Is The Eye doing that?? I don’t know maybe it’s just going weird.

Feeling bad for Daisy. Like she’s a murderer yeah but I like her ☹️ and I hate Elias. Super curious on his backstory though

MAG 83: Drawing a Blank

Auughhegughf I hate mannequins. Especially in games when you look away and they’re like getting closer. I’m wondering what the hell the deal was with this. Cause sometimes you can kinda gauge a motivation but this mannequin kinda just did a lot of stuff. Although the circus theme kinda reminded me of that one circus mentioned before. Maybe it’s like an element of The Stranger. Cause like mannequins are faceless and kinda take on different identities everytime you dress them y’know?? Lana was found partially skinned. Maybe the mannequin wanted that. Now that I know about these entities, I’m totally gonna search for links with them. I’m a sucker for cool horrors of humanity.

Also Breekon and Hopes deliveries mention!! I’m thinking they replaced the OG mannequin.

MAG 84: Possessive

Kind of another disease/gross shit theme in here? Also chills when they said “Gordie’s Dump” like eugh that got me. I’m still trying to understand what Maggie was doing. Like the boy saw Gordon’s face out of newspaper in the mud but Gordon was also in the house, Maggie smoothing paper over his face. Is she making like clones out of paper. Is she paper machéing clones???? They said whenever Gordon came to school, he had dirt under his fingernails so I’m thinking like every day he’s like replaced or something and then Maggie buried him??? I think.

MAG 85: Upon the Stair

This one was a lil hard because it’s a very strangely narrated statement but I managed! It made me think of Cheating Death where someone will replace the other person in whatever (someone replacing death after beating them in a game-someone replacing the stair figure after calling for them)

Jon did mention this but might as well say it; very Michael-esque. Somehow I don’t think he’s involved though 💀 I don’t know who is sending the statements to Jon. My first thought is Elias since he actually knows where Jon is and who he is with. Or so he says. Also the comment on like people becoming warped creatures is so true now that I think about it. I don’t want Jon to be a warped creature he’s too boring for that guys

Also Georgie is real. Go get that Hungarian dinner girl

MAG 86: Tucked In

Eughhhh it moves when you look. I hate that even more then when it moves when you DONT look 😭Also Tim has some problems he probably needs to work through. I feel like he knows more than he lets on. Like he did say to Martin that something worse is happening to the institute than it being haunted. Also, love Melanie King 🫶 it’s funny she doesn’t know what Og Sasha looked like since she knows she looks different then Not! Sasha. She just doesn’t know how.

Scary ass episode. I’m wondering if the creature in this and the one in A Fathers Love and Exceptional Risk are like…cousins or something because the one in this left behind “a small patch of foul smelling water” and in the other ones, brackish water would come out taps when I think it’s like close I think? Bit a stretch but maybe they belong under the same entity. Like darkness I dunno

Okay that’s everything! So far season 3 is super good. I love hearing the stuff outside the statements, it’s super interesting and I’m excited to see what happens next

[thepastisalreadywritten]

From the bee-stung red lips to her trademark platinum curls, Marilyn Monroe was – and still is – the ultimate bombshell and beauty icon, who had a penchant for glamour that resonates with so many of us today.

On what would have been her 97th birthday, we take a look at the star’s Old Hollywood beauty routine.

She stayed out of the sun

“I’m personally opposed to a deep tan because I like to feel blonde all over,” explained Monroe of why she stayed out of the sun – despite the fact it was in “vogue in California.”

Forget the bronzers and fake tans many of us swear by today, she was all about the alabaster look.

She liked a very specific shade of blonde

If you’ve ever wondered what hair hue Monroe requested when she graced the colourist’s chair, you probably wouldn’t guess it was “pillow case white.”

According to the author Pamela Keogh, Monroe had her hair bleached every three weeks with a roster of hairstylists including Pearl Porterfield (who also tended to Jean Harlow’s pale blonde hair) and Kenneth Battelle.

To avoid washing it too much (which can affect the color), she swore by a makeshift dry shampoo – Johnson’s Baby Powder – applying every two days to keep her hair looking fresh.

A nifty makeup artist’s trick for plump lips

How to create the full, pouty lips Marilyn was so well known for? A clever use of lipsticks, no less.

Her make-up artist would apply up to five different red hues – darker, plummy reds on the outside, and lighter towards the inside – to create the illusion of dimension and plumpness.

A clever tip that many makeup artists still use today.

She knew the importance of sleep

A woman who enjoyed her sleep, Monroe took between five and 10 hours of shut-eye a night in a wide single bed.

"On Sunday? It’s my one day of total leisure. I sometimes take two hours to wake up, luxuriating in every last moment of drowsiness,” she said in an interview with Pageant magazine.

What she wore to bed

Monroe famously wore five drops of Chanel No.5 to bed, a perfume that she is also said to have added into her ice baths.

Yes… ice baths

While Wim Hof and numerous athletes have since popularized ice-cold showers and baths, Marilyn was well ahead of the curve.

It is said that she used to take ice-cold baths to keep her skin firm and tight.

How she looked after her skin

Monroe joined the likes of Audrey Hepburn in regularly seeing Hungarian dermatologist, Erno Laszlo.

Suffering from dry skin (she is rumored to have obsessively washed her face up to five times a day to ward off breakouts), Laszlo prescribed the actor a rigorous skincare routine, which differed depending on the time of day and occasion.

Her evening skincare routine began with an oil cleanse, using the Erno Laszlo Active Phelityl Oil, then she applied the Active Phelityl Cream and washed it off.

She finished with the Controlling Lotion.

All of these products are still available today.

Get the Monroe glow

While today we go wild for highlighter, Monroe got her glow in another, perhaps less tempting, way.

Deploying the K-beauty trend for “slugging,” she would apply layers of Vaseline under her foundation to help skin catch the light.

She was also a fan of cold cream, like Pond’s, and other iconic products we still use today, including Elizabeth Arden’s Eight Hour Cream and Nivea Creme, and even olive oil, which she also reportedly applied to her skin to offset dryness.

She wasn’t a natural exercise fanatic

“I don’t count rhythmically like the exercise people on the radio; I couldn’t stand exercise if I had to feel regimented about it,” said Monroe about her approach to working out.

Many of us will relate. Instead, she enjoyed a “simple bust-firming routine,” which involved lifting two, five-pound weights above her head 15 times, moving from a “spread-eagle arm position.”

She would do it bedside until she was tired each morning.

Originally published in Vogue.co.uk

[sylvienerevarine]

20 Questions for Writers

tagged by the wonderful, the elegant, the fabulous @blossom-adventures and @wispstalk! I love rambling about Literature (for the purpose of this exercise, Literature is defined as "stories about weird women in fantasy universes making bad puns")

I tag @elavoria, @bretongirlwrites, @thequeenofthewinter, and @oblivions-dawn <3

How many works do you have on AO3? 49, going back to the far-distant year of 2014.

What’s your total AO3 word count? 356,015. Damn

What fandoms do you write for? The Elder Scrolls universe, the Tolkien legendarium. Side note: isn't it funny how many more Silmarillion than Skyrim fics there are? Skyrim was one of the most popular games of the 2010s and the Silmarillion is an incoherent LOTR prequel that reads like the Bible. Wild.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos? Guess Who's Coming to Mordor (477), Fraternity (300), Wrong Side of the Bed (286), Hubris (186), Uncles (181). These are all Tolkien fics. Don't worry about it.

Do you respond to comments? Usually, unless I can't think of a clever enough reply or I just forget to.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Considering that Saint Sylvie is basically just a collection of comedy shorts, it has a surprisingly angsty ending.

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? In the Tolkien Fandom, The Fine Art of Being Prepared. In the TES-verse, Land of Ash and Heart.

Do you get hate on fics? Very rarely. I occasionally get folks pointing out typos which is embarrassing but honestly, probably needed.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? ...yes, but I almost never post it on AO3.

Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? Ok bear with me here. I once wrote a crossover between my original novel, set in 1860s Vienna, and the long-ass Victorian Tolkien AU that occupied my entire brain from 2018-2020.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? No, and if I did, I'd summon the Constables.

Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes! I once had a Tolkien fic translated into Vietnamese. It was an honor. I do not speak Vietnamese.

Have you ever co-written a fic? Not exactly, though I have co-written a series! (aforementioned Victorian au)

What’s your all-time favourite ship? From TES, Sophrine/Roggi. I am the only person who has ever written for this pairing. I am a hipster.

What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I refuse to give up on any of my WIPs. Someday they will be done!

What are your writing strengths? Dialogue, comedy, romance, introspection.

What are your writing weaknesses? Fight scenes. I hate them.

Thoughts on writing dialogue on another language in a fic? I sometimes do, like if it's strictly necessary for one character to swear at another in Hungarian.

First fandom you wrote for? The Silmarillion.

Favourite fic you’ve written? Oooof.... Land of Ash and Heart isn't terribly popular but I love it, ok. It's weird and emotional and loosely inspired by Mamma Mia 2. Read it.

[szyszkasosnowa]

☯ (what do you love about your language?)

♡ (which languages do you speak/have you learned in school?)

Awww thank you! <3

☯ What do you love about your language?

Oh man. It's so elaborate. It makes it a hell to learn, but I love how you can play around with the grammar - for example change the word order in the sentence, or add the grammatical endings to the random words instead of the verbs.

I like hungarian loan words because we bros 👍.

I love the swear words!!! English could never!!!

Diminutive and augmentative forms. You don't need to add any epiteths to make it known how you feel about something. Also diminutives of the names and how for example Katarzyna, Kasia and Kaśka have totally different vibes.

Like a lot of European languages, we came up with an euphemism for the bear (because he scary), "niedźwiedź". But then! We got even more scared of bears and we came up wtith the euphemism for the euphemism! ("miś")

♡ (which languages do you speak/have you learned in school?)

I speak Polish natively, I learned English and French in school. I'm also learning Japanese right now.

[bakawitch]

The masses win!

It was indeed the horse one! I momentarily freaked out when people kept saying that that one was Fehérlófia because I've never seen Fehérlófia before, but now I know for sure that I didn't accidentally guess the plot of an existing film XD

As for the real films! I compiled a handy dandy list for you all who are curious about these films! (I must warn you that English dubs are notoriously hard to find for these if there are any, and most of the time, they are awful, in this case the sub is always better than the dub XD)

Hófehér (1984)

A farcical retelling of Snow White. Disillusioned Snow White isn't all that pretty or cute, her friends dwarfs aren't all that hospitable, her evil stepmother is an alcoholic and prince charming likes the ladies too much.

Macskafogó (1986)

(For the love of god, do not listen to the songs in english)

In year 80 AM (Anno Mickey Mouse), the mice of Planet X are threatened by humiliation and total apocalypse. The well-organized, fully equipped gangs of evil cats are aiming for the total obliteration of mice, not caring for the old conventions between mice and cats. But in the last moment, when the mouse leaders are beginning to consider leaving the planet, a new hope rises...

Szaffi (1985)

In the turmoilous 18th century, young poor Hungarian aristocrat Jonas helps Szaffi, a young pretty gypsy Romani girl and the illegitimate daughter of a Turkish pasha, get the treasure that's owed to her by the right of inheritance.

Vili a Veréb (1989)

When young Vili starts shooting at birds, a fairy decides to teach him a lesson and turns him into a sparrow.

Vuk (1981)

The story is about a little fox, Vuk, who in the beginning of the story becomes an orphan as the hunter comes and destroys his family. Vuk doesn’t know they are gone forever. Vuk's uncle, Karak, takes Vuk to live with him, and he teaches Vuk everything he ought to know as a fox. As Vuk grows up, he learns the truth about his family and swears to avange them.

The horse one doesn't exist. I just literally made it up on the spot. Also, don't ever watch Vuk 2. That is a soulless disgrace that we do not talk about.

Testing the masses....

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

“FEW CANADIANS OR BRITISH-BORN ASKING RELIEF,” Winnipeg Tribune. June 11, 1930. Page 1. ---- Ninety-Five Percent of Unemployed Men Registering Are Foreigners --- JOBLESS STILL FLOCKING IN FROM OUTSIDE POINTS ---- Heavy List of Deportees Expected to Follow Investigation Here ---- City authorities were preparing today for drastic action to check the rising cost of unemployment relief in Winnipeg. now nearing the $3,000 a day mark.

At 166 Princess street 1,900 men are getting meals and bed tickets. each one costing the eitly a dollar each one costing the city a dollar married men are getting groceri and relief to the tune of about $2.00 a day each. The single men get tickets for their meals for 25c good at any restaurant. Nearly All Immigrants Of all the men registered for relief since Friday only about five percent are British or Canadian born. declared V. Parrott, who with 14 men helping him, is in charge of the registration. "It is hard to tell where they are all coming from." an official stated "They are nearly foreign immigrants and not 20 English have come here since registration started "

They are mostly Ukrainians, Poles and Hungarians, who were brought out as immigrants for farms, the official stated. 

But among the unemployed them-selves there are protests that bands of men are coming in from all points in the West to take advantage of the relief.

No Way of Checkup Two carloads came down from Northern Manitoba Tuesday, another carload from the West and men who have come as far as from Vancouver are declared to be taking the meal and bed-tickets. There is no way of checking their domicile perfectly. The affidavit system, to make them swear that they have been in Winnipeg for at least 12 months, will be instituted immediately. If any of them give false information arrest or deportation will follow. 

While the registration continues authorities are planning for vigorous and thorough investigation. A heavy list of deportees is expected to be brought up soon.

To Make More Demands With the total amount given u by the city in relief nearing $300,000 for the period since December, continuance of the present plan is considered virtually impossible at the city hall. 

At 3 o'clock today a delegation of eight-six men and two women-wil call at the Parliament buildings and make their demands for monetary relief from the provincial government. For married men $25 a week and for single men $16 a week what they will ask from Acting Premier R. A. Hoey.

[my-only-way-tocooperatewithlife]

One more drink I - Pierre Gasly series

Hi, This one is a totally new idea from me, I used to write a lot, but never in English. So hope you will like it :) 

If something is written like this then it means that the conversation is on Hungarian.

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x fem!reader

warning: swearing, language, mention of depression, alcohol usage

¤ Masterlist ¤

--Next part--

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

I’ve never thought that after finishing university as a international relationship student, that I will find myself starting a business with my three brothers, and open a pub together in the middle of our capital city in Budapest, Hungary. Everything was crazy about it, the four of us all did different kind of things.

I have already mentioned myself, Gina, a 25 years old freshly out of the university young adult, who all she had are her brothers. My oldes brother Ádám he is in the military, in the past few years he was all around the globe, but thankfully he is finally at home with us. 

My second oldest brother Peti, he is the most eccentric out of all of us, he is a musican and the whole bar idea was his and we just could not say not to him. 

And I have my youngest brother Erik, he just turned 20 in a few month ago still trying to find what he would like to do with his life, but he is definetly a really talented mechanic. 

It’s pretty funny that even if the four of us do totally different things, we all have the same passion thanks to our family. It’s related to everything that has an engine in it, mostly cars, Really fast ones.  What comes for a love of fast cars, you would ask. The love for Formula 1. 

Since we were kids we were sitting in front of every weekend when the race was on an we were watching it, and rooting for our favourite ones. And this love did not fade away with the years, I think it got even more serious.

Our bar was in the middle of our capital city of Budapest, and it was a pretty small one, but it’s with a really good vibe, mostly the decoration is connected to racing and F1, but it would be a surprise if it was not connected to it.  The whole idea started as a joke, while we were pretty much drunk one night in my apartment. I just finished university at the time, I was talking about I have no idea what to do with my life, I was unemployed and pretty drunk. 

We have never imagined that it will blow up, and be that popular. First I was scared that maybe it’s a huge bite for 4 young adults, we don’t know anything about running a establisment like this. Okay I worked at bars and restaurants while I was in university but it was nothing comparing running one.  But people love it, I thought first maybe all we will have in our place are guys, but I was so happy when girls started to come to our place.  We have had pretty miuch every night fully booked, and totally crowded, everything was perfect. Of course COVID really fucked with us too, thanks to our savings we could survive that period but it was really hard.

But we needed to gather our savings back up, so we needed to expand our business, first it started with little festivals around the city, with a small stand. Then everything changed with one simple day. 

I was in the pub, we have already opened, but it was a pretty chill night. Mostly because it’s summer, so everyone is on vacation and if someone is not on one, than they are definetly sitting at some of the parks in Budapest, and having there drinking night there. My two older brothers were in the bar with me o that night, which was not rare at all, if one of us were not working we still liked to hang out in the pub, usually because if Peti was not working he was definetelly on the small stage in the corner of the pub, and he was playing on his guitar.  I was cleaning the bar top, filling up the fridges when my youngest brother Erik literally kicked the door in while screaming.

“Dude you will never believe what happened!” - screaming and running to one of the barstools. He looked like a maniac, his brown hair was everywhere, some of his hair was stuck to his forehead due to that he was sweating. He was a panting mess. When he reached the bar, he bent over, puts both of his hand on his knees and started to catch his breath.  He was looking at us with huge eyes, waiting for something. 

“Erik was is wrong with you? You scared the shit out of everyone, why can’t you just walk in to the bar like a normal people. You scared our guests also.” I scolded my brother while putting the used glasses in the washing machine under the desk. 

“I don’t give a fuck and you guys won’t give a single fuck too, if I tell you what have happened!” He was gesticulating everywhere with his armed, nearly knocking down one of our guests glass.

“Erik, just tell us!” My other brother Ádám shouted at him, he was definetly over with this situation. 

“Okay, you don’t need to scream at me, Jesus” Erik was rolling his eyes “ Okay so, you guys know that I’m working at a car reparing place for a guy”

“Yea, that shady dude with the tons of tattoos right? “Ádám asked

“Yep, that one. So I was at the workshop and a guy came in and he was really trying to get us to do some repair on his car because he needs it for a some kind of event. And no one wanted to repair his car, and I was like yea I can do it for you. And he was really happy about it and we started to talk, and turns out he is an event organiser. And we talk about that we have a pub and the past few years how sucked, and he said he knows an event where they would need a few bars. And you guys will never know which event is he organising? Guess”

“ Dude you just said that we will never guessed” I was sighing and rolling my eyes at him

“Yea sure but whatever, I’m gonna tell you guys because you guys are no fun. So, this guy is organising the list of entertainment services for the 2022 Hungarian Grand Prix on the Hungaroring. You will ask why is it important, right? “ He was looking at us with big eyes while we were looking back at him dumbly and nodding our heads waiting for the answer from him “ He hinted that he is really looking for an extraordinary and unique bar for the event, and I said to him if he needs one we are more than happy to go there. And he may or may not give us a contract I have with me on our business email where we are invited for the Hungarian Grand Prix. “

We were totally shocked and quiet, our mouth hanged open while our little brother was looking back on us with a huge grin on his face waiting for our response.

“Come on, you guys say something! It’s the best news I think from the past years we have had” showing the contract on his phone into our faces

I was the first one that came back to the real life, and started to jump up and down clapping hands together. “You are not joking right?” I was asking him, and he shocked his head.

“Nope” his mouth was from ear to ear while popping the last p on the word he just said.

I pushed both of my older brother’s arm to wake them up, while jumping up and down and screaming

“ Guys, we are going to the Hungaroring!” And finally my two older brothers came back to reality and started to shouting and hugging me and my young brother.

[tetralea]

AU: Max can speak Italian ( bc he's a sweetheart and loves GP lol )

GP had forbidden Max from speaking Italian ever again. According to GP 'If you don't want non Italian speakers to assume you're talking dirty to them in public then don't.'

But since when is Max an obedient 'child'? So obviously when he finished P2 in Monza and the interviewer jokingly asked him to give a message to the Tifosi, he decided to be a rude ass fucking man and spoked in Italian.

Charles is shocked, the interviewer is shocked, everybody is shocked, GP facetabled.

Charles is shocked, **i said that already** and Max sprayed his champagne down Charles' back. *ooh that rhymed*

...

Im so sorry...*not really*

Looool! So just to put it out there me as a Hungarian speaking person, I totally abuse the language thing abroad. I swear like a bitch and openly trash things in Hungarian knowing no one would understand 😂 it’s a National trait. Kind of awkward when I forget I’m back home for a second and express my disliking towards something and everyone understands 😂

Anyway, okay, but Max speaking Italian and Charles doesn’t know it, he thinks Max doesn’t understand what he is saying so maybe he hints at a few things he wouldn’t in English. 😳

After Max speaking to the Tifosi in Italian Charles would let him spray something other then champagne on him, also not on his back but on his face, ass and all over his body.

Take my phone away, Jesus.

Then he would just dirty talk Max in Italian in bed. Charles topping for once. And it’s so hot! 🥵🥵🥵

I also have this head cannon that Max loves to come on Charles’ body. Like he is so beautiful and he loves to make Charles look absolutely ruined and debauched. Coming on his ass, his chest, between his thighs, but his absolutely favourite is Charles sucking him and then finishing on his face, he just loves it and can never get enough of the sight, his cum dripping down on those beautiful lips and cheeks.

It got wild, anyway. Send help.

[projectilecry]

as someone who has done ballet to all of the songs listed in this post, orpheus in the underworld was the most fun to dance to. it’s incredibly high energy and just for that one number you really want to fucking punch. it just keeps going and going and going and going. taking a bow after it? one of the most satisfying and fulfilling experiences known to man. it’s the can-can song/music, or at least the one specific part of orpheus that is being mentioned here is, so that’s probably what most people know it as. can-can is fun. really fun. it also reminds me a lot of hava nagila for some reason which makes me a bit partial to it.

hall of the mountain king is a classic and absolutely reminds me of a bunch of bees. like a swarming hive of bees. progressively getting more angry. it’s a great tension building composition. it’s great, it’s just not quite as fun as orpheus to me because it feels more organized.

shostakovich’s waltz no. 2 probably works the best ballet-wise and is the easiest to work with, but it’s just not as fun as the others (although it still is fun, there’s a lot of opportunities for mysterious and mischievous tiptoeing in this one like the beginning of hall of the mountain king). it has a nice like “lady out for a nighttime stroll in the streets of seville” vibe to it. waltz no. 2 like really musically enforces the lightness you want to have in your feet dancing, whereas the other two make it really easy to let yourself be heavy and have heavy landings if that makes any sense? i’m not too good at explaining, this is all just stuff i sorta feel in my body after so many years. also feels very ragtime to me which is one of my favorite generes in general.

for my addition to the Songs To Put To Internet Drama List, i will raise korsakov’s flight of the bumblebee. everyone knows it. we all probably know it as the classic song for prodigy children to learn and perform on piano, but it’s good in full orchestra and probably even better for the drama vibe than you remembered.

i have a few extra ones i thought were of note too, but not as worthy i suppose as they don’t quite fit the exact vibe.

- rossini’s william tell overture finale. again very chaotic and victorious. has the building tension we’re looking for.

- verdi’s requiem: dies irae. incredible chaos vibe with this one. just absolute pandemonium. it does get quiet in the middle and end which is a little bit of a downside. but it was written to be part of a funeral mass though which is kinda really cool.

- mussorgsky’s night on bald mountain. it’s more for when you’re starting out with a clearly defined and obvious evil, but it’s good.

- mancini’s the pink panther. this one is obvious and less angry and more mysterious, but i can’t pass it up. if you haven’t heard it please go listen now. i swear listening to a proper orchestra play this is a life altering experience. it will permanently boost your personal irl suaveness stat.

- johann strauss’ spring waltz. upbeat and cheery, but great. has a “i’m just floating along passing by observing the chaos” vibe.

- joplin’s maple leaf rag. it’s a classic for a reason. i do love myself some scott joplin. like a lot. one of my favorites. sure he’s not classical, but he’s worthy.

- wagner’s ride of the valkyries. it’s another one with the total drama vibe but it’s maybe a little bit too star wars. it also does slow down a bit.

- tchaikovsky’s 1812 overture. not the whole thing, just the ending portion. not quite the vibe here but it is similar. it also will never fail to make me think of art van furniture (rip in pieces you are missed my king) because it was the backing for 90% of their commercials.

- brahms’ hungarian dance no. 5. it really gets that kinda like “everything is happing all at one and coming from entirely different directions and places” thing imo.

polka is a great genre for this kind of vibe by the way, so if you’re ever looking for new songs with the internet drama backing track vibe polka classical is a good place to start.

[mypoisonedvine]

Love, Theoretically | Sebastian Stan x reader (chapter 10 - FINALE)

series masterlist

series summary: having lost your husband, sister, and best friend all to the same extramarital affair, you ran away to a secluded villa in the Hungarian countryside to write and get a little time away from the life you’d left behind.  you were only looking for peace and perhaps some inspiration for your novel, but instead you found an unlikely connection with the immigrant repairman– even though the two of you don’t speak the same language.

word count: 6k

warnings: implied smut, angst, fluff, romcom tropes, lots of swearing, pregnancy mention/minor breeding kink

note: click the asterisk for a hyperlink to a translation when the time comes

Six months later...

“It’s good!” she beamed, setting down the last chunk of pages and taking off her reading glasses. “Oh man, that ending hurt, but it’s really, really good!”

You leaned back into the plush chair and sighed with relief. “You think so?”

“It’s best-seller material,” she assured. “With some editing, of course. God, I can’t believe you were sitting on this for so long.”

“What are the biggest changes you want to make?” you asked.

“Well, I’m thinking we’ll cut the romantic subplot,” she mentioned in passing, like it was no big deal. “It’s distracting.

“Distracing?” you repeated. “Nia, it’s the story. It’s a romance.”

“I thought it was a thriller,” she frowned.

“A romance disguised as a thriller,” you corrected.

“Listen, I get what you mean, but I didn’t get this—” she tapped the nameplate on her desk: ‘NIA BROWN, HEAD PUBLISHER’ in shiny letters— “for nothing. I know what I’m talking about, and I know what your readers want. Violence, gore, drama!”

“It has all that!” you defended. “But it’s all there to talk about the real love he finds in her!”

“What do you mean ‘real love’?” she pressed flatly.

“I mean…” you pondered. “I mean love where you feel like a version of yourself that you actually like. Love where you feel unjudged, no precedents or caveats or back-up plans. Love that fucking hurts because you never wanted to rely on anything or anybody. Love that lives in silence because you don’t even need words.”

She furrowed her brow. “That… sounds nice, I guess, but I don’t think anybody really has that. Everybody needs a back-up plan. Everybody needs words— a writer should know that.”

“Oh my god. Oh my god,” you groaned, your face falling into your hands. “I’m so fucking stupid. Jesus Christ, I’m a moron.”

“What? What’s going on?”

“I had that! I had that, and I let it go! I’m the dumbest bitch on the fucking face of the Earth.”

“Don’t say that,” she soothed, but you were already standing up.

“No, I need to find him,” you decided as you grabbed your coat and briefcase. “I need to go back and try to fix this. I love him, I’ve never— I didn’t know I could love like that, I didn’t know I could be loved like that… oh my god, I need to find him. It isn’t over.”

“It isn’t over?” she repeated incredulously. “You said Michael signed the papers!”

“It’s not Michael,” you rolled your eyes as you stormed out of the office. “It was never Michael.”

You ran into the first telephone box you could find, slamming the door shut as you searched your purse for the business card that probably wasn't even in there.

After a moment, you gasped with delight when you pulled it from a very bottom pocket and began punching in the number as fast as possible with shivering hands, long-distance charges be damned.

“Hello?” the confused voice on the other end answered.

“Mrs. Alberti, hi— does Sebastian still work for you?” you asked hastily.

“No, dear," she sighed, apparently recognizing you by just your voice (and likely your request), "he quit recently, and moved away.”

“Moved?" you repeated with a wrinkled brow. "Where?!”

“I assume back home, sweetheart; to Bucharest.”

“Shit,” you sighed. “Shit!”

“Are you having your ‘run through the airport’ moment, sweetheart?” she realized.

“Yes, I think so— do you have his address?”

“Well, no, but I’ll see what I can find.”

You waited rather impatiently as she shuffled through papers in the background, mumbling to herself as she apparently searched for information that could help you.

“All I’ve got is the address of a previous employer… a carpenter,” she finally explained, breaking the silence. “It was his only reference when he came to work here," she explained.

"Wow, you really did just hire him for his looks," you blurted out.

"He was desperate for work, that boy had nowhere else to go,” she defended.

“Right, well, I guess if that’s my only lead then I’ve gotta go for it,” you decided. “Thank you, Mrs. Alberti.”

“I told you to call me when that book was a hit. Did it happen yet?” she piped up.

“It’s not published yet,” you explained. “It needs some more work… but I think it’s almost ready.”

“I think so, too, dear.”

Learn Romanian in 10 Weeks! A practical language guide.

Week 1, Day 1: Greetings

Hello                      Salut

Goodbye                La revedere

Thank you              Mulțumesc

You’re welcome      Cu plăcere

Good morning         Bună dimineata

Good afternoon       Bună ziua

Good evening          Bună seara

Good night               Noapte bună

You brushed your hair back out of your face with a sigh, turning the page as you mumbled the phrases to yourself. Broken Hungarian and your high school education in Latin were not getting you as far with this as you had been hoping.

How are you?          Ce mai faci

I love you                 Te iubesc

“Te iubesc, te iubesc, te iubesc,” you repeated over and over in a whisper.

Each day you had a new routine: practice Romanian for an hour, check flight prices online (or call the airline), research what you knew about Sebastian and the address Mrs. Alberti had given you, and then get back to practicing Romanian again.

Oh, and occasionally you worked on the edits Nia wanted for your manuscript. You were focusing on the minor changes— grammar errors, rearranging sentences— and putting off her big request for the removal and replacement of the romantic aspects. More than ever, they seemed like the most important thing the book had to offer.

You had a small apartment, just a place to sleep and shower really; much too small to fit everything you’d already taken from Michael’s house (you know, the one that used to be your house) along with what he’d shipped to you that you forgot before. He included a letter in the package as well. You threw it out, unopened.

Truthfully, you never really fully unpacked. As much as you realized you probably should, in order to really feel like you had a real home, you couldn’t bring yourself to empty your suitcases when you knew you’d be packing them again any day now.

You also realized how outrageous this all was. Ignoring the unlikelihood of even finding him in the first place, Sebastian probably wouldn’t want anything to do with you after you broke his heart, left, and then randomly tracked him down after over half a year. But to be totally transparent, you weren’t really doing this to get him back, necessarily. You knew that was probably never going to happen. You were doing this because you needed to try. You needed to go there, and get hurt, and come back knowing you did everything you could: you’d never be able to live with yourself if you did anything less than that.

You couldn’t start your new life until you had put everything else to bed. And if that meant being 100%, painfully certain that you and Sebastian could never be together, then that was just how it needed to be.

After two weeks of looking, there still weren’t any reasonable flights to Bucharest, so you booked another trip by train, figuring you could use the three day trip to brush up on the key Romanian phrases you were going to need as well as prepare your speech.

Yes, your plan was a speech. You didn’t have a back-up plan. You didn’t even have a return ticket back to London yet.

A passage by Yeats came to mind; But I, being poor, have only my dreams. I have spread my dreams under your feet. Tread softly, because you tread on my dreams.

In all your life, you’d never understood before why someone would want to only have their dreams. But now, here you were… and yes, it felt terrifying and vulnerable and uncomfortably naked, but it felt pretty damn good, too.

With a sigh, you scribbled out the last sentence you’d written, tossing the trash paper aside. You looked up out the window at the scenery flying by in a blur, worried that if you didn’t look out from the train every once in a while you’d get motion sickness.

The sun was beginning to set already, the green of hills and trees tinted orange. You only indulged in it for a moment, though, before getting back to this god-forsaken speech you were deadset on finishing before you arrived in Bucharest tomorrow. At first, you’d figured the translating would be the most difficult part… but writing in English wasn’t exactly a piece of cake, either. You had so much to say, and suddenly so few words for any of it.

You’d probably done more editing on this than any of your novels combined; the crumpled up pages spilling out of your wastebasket were proof enough of that.

“And I’m a fucking writer!” you groaned aloud, to no one in particular. “How is anybody else supposed to be able to do this, if I can’t?”

Other people aren’t as emotionally constipated as you, the voice of your inner critic reminded you plainly, making you roll your eyes at yourself.

A rap at your door made you sit up straighter and turn around. A stewardess slid open the frosted glass slightly to give you a friendly smile. “Is everything alright, ma’am?”

Your brows furrowed at the sound of her accent. “Is that a Romanian accent?” you asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” she nodded.

“So you’re fluent in Romanian and English,” you concluded.

“And Portuguese, yes ma’am,” she agreed.

“Could you come in here for a moment and help me translate something?”

She seemed slightly confused at the request but stepped forward, sliding the door most of the way shut behind her. Leaning beside you on the desk, she picked up your handwritten letter and blinked her wide, brown eyes a few times. You felt slightly embarrassed knowing she was reading such intimate thoughts, but that was how it felt the first time someone read anything you wrote so you were pretty much used to it by now.

“I usually ask the passengers what brings them to Bucharest,” she mumbled after a moment. “This is the most interesting thing so far. Am I reading this correctly, that you intend to confess your love to someone you met—” she scanned the page quickly— “during a vacation in Hungary?”

“Yup,” you smiled awkwardly, popping the ‘p’ at the end of the word.

“And he doesn’t speak English?” she assumed; you nodded. “And… you don’t speak Romanian?”

You nodded again, and she breathed in and out quickly, sitting beside you as she stared at the letter.

“I’ve never seen anything like this before,” she explained.

“Sorry for sucking you into the entropic vortex that is my life,” you chuckled.

“I don’t mean to pry,” she sighed, setting the letter down, and you laughed a little internally at the idea that she was worried about prying when she just read the most personal piece of writing you��d ever put to the page, “but do you think this is… enough? I mean, to build a relationship on?”

You just gave her a shrug. “I have no idea. But, you know, I spent my whole life worrying about stuff like that. I dated my husband for seven years before we got married, because I wanted to be sure. I was initially interested in him because he was successful and ambitious, and it made me feel like this was a really secure relationship that I could rely on. I double majored in English and Computer Science because I wanted a more stable career to fall back on in case being a writer didn’t work out, and even though it did, I’ve spent most of my career publishing what I thought people wanted to read instead of what I wanted to write, so I’d have a better shot at a good paycheck. I grew up thinking the best thing I could ever have was security. And now I’m divorced, watching my royalties shrink every month, more insecure in every way than I’ve ever been, and I’m realizing that the choices I made didn’t give me what I wanted. I gave up so much in the name of safety, and I let the one good thing I’d ever found go, so I could go back to being the same person I always was. I’m ready to settle again, if this doesn’t work… I’m ready to accept that this is just the way life goes, and be thankful that I got a taste of the kind of stuff I thought only existed in the sort of books I’d read but never write.”

She swallowed as she looked at you, and you felt your eyes water as you stared out the window towards the dimming scenery one more time, smiling at the sight of a distant village, a church with a steeple, vineyards and farms. Someone’s whole life is in that little town, you imagined, and they’re just watching your train go by like they see every other day.

“Sebastian gave me more security than I’d ever had before, even though the whole thing was such a ridiculous little whirlwind, and nothing like I ever imagined my life could be. But he made me want to be honest and raw and write sappy letters like the one you just read. He doesn’t have any money, at least as far as I know, and I haven’t known him for seven years, and on paper it makes no sense… but you would understand if you knew him. If you felt that joy that he radiates, if you saw him live his simple little life like it’s the best thing in the world. You would understand if you knew how much I needed this. You would understand if you had been just as miserable being who I’ve been for so long, and finally had a chance to be somebody you think you were maybe meant to be the whole time. So, if I never see him again, I hope I just get to thank him.”

You waited for her to say something, but furrowed your brow at the long moment of silence, looking back from the window finally and finding her staring at you with a tear running down her cheek. When you met her gaze, she quickly wiped it away with a sniffle and looked down at your desk again. “Let’s get to translating, shall we?” she announced with a half-smile.

You noticed the way the other passengers looked at you as everyone was in line to deboard from the train car; you stuck out like a sore thumb, since everybody else was carrying heavy luggage and all you had was a backpack.

In your defense, you really had no idea how to pack for a trip where you knew neither the duration nor the true final destination. So, it was mainly filled with your essentials, a few clothes for any kind of weather, and enough leu to buy anything else you needed along the way.

The stewardess was waving goodbye to everyone as they shuffled out into the train station, occasionally stopping to shake a hand or give directions to nearby destinations. When you were just about to pass by, though, she pulled you into a tight hug.

“Good luck,” she whispered, holding you just a moment too long before pulling back and giving you an encouraging look. “If he doesn’t take you back, feel free to blame my translation… because if he knows what’s in your heart, I know he’ll say yes.”

“Yeah, that’s the hard part isn’t it?” you laughed weakly. “Thank you for your help. I guess if I come back alone for the return trip tonight, you’ll know how bad it went.”

“Then I hope I don’t see you again,” she winked.

It being a major train station and all, cabs were waiting around every corner so it was pretty easy to grab one and give them the address you already had written down for this exact purpose.

“This is pretty far,” the driver explained, “on the edge of town. Not a tourist spot.”

“Good, because I’m not a tourist,” you nodded, already only giving him half your attention as you pulled out the translated speech to practice.

“And you can afford this?” he pressed. You sighed and dug through your bag, pulling out a haphazard stack of bills and handing them through the plastic partition.

“Is this enough?” you asked, and he didn’t answer, just taking the money and starting the car as you smiled and leaned back in your seat.

As much as you had tried to convince yourself to not get your hopes up, the butterflies in your stomach felt more like whole birds at this point, demanding to break free as you practiced the words hand-written on the page over and over again, committing it all to memory.

“What are you reading?” the cab driver asked after several minutes.

“Oh, nothing,” you mumbled, “sorry if I’m bothering you, you can turn on the radio.”

“No, it’s not bothering me, but what you are saying… it’s very odd. It sounds like something from a play, or movie,” he explained.

“Um, it’s not,” you replied, a little embarrassed. “But does it sound like it’s from a good movie? Like, if you heard a character say this to another character, would you think they should get together?”

“I… don’t know,” he answered, sounding confused. “I mean, it depends on what happened, right? How they met, how well they get along…”

So, you told him the whole story, as succinctly as possible (which is not very succinct at all). By the end, he was actually giving commentary as you spoke.

“Why the hell did you leave?” he interjected, clearly irritated with you. “You loved him!”

“Yeah, well, sometimes love isn’t enough! I loved my husband too, and look how that turned out,” you defended.

“But that’s different. That was love for all the wrong reasons.”

“I promise, it felt very real at the time,” you shrugged.

“And now?” he countered. “You realize that this man— Sebastian, right?— is real.”

“I hope I’m right this time,” you offered. “But even if I am, he may not agree.”

The driver scoffed, taking a hand off the wheel to wave dismissively. “If he’s anything like you said, then he will still be completely in love with you. After all, you still feel the same way after all this time apart, don’t you?”

“If anything, I love him more every day,” you admitted, your heart beating quickly just to say it aloud.

“You know, when I met my wife, she was engaged to another man. He was rich, good-looking, and he wasn’t even a bad guy unlike this husband you describe. He was a good man, but he wasn’t right for her. They were… content together, but she wasn’t truly happy. Every night I would come to her window and beg her to marry me, because I knew that she knew we were meant for each other, but she was scared because her family wouldn’t approve and she would be a poor man’s wife.”

“How did you convince her to marry you instead?” you asked eagerly, sucked into the story already.

“I didn’t. On the day of the wedding, some people told me to go and break it up but I didn’t. I thought it would be wrong, to try to ruin her happiness and take it for myself by making a scene at the wedding. I realized she was her own woman and if she wanted to choose him, I had to let her. I had locked myself in my house, not wanting to see anyone that day, and she appeared at my door. I didn’t need to convince her because she knew the truth in her heart, and called off the wedding herself.”

“Wow,” you smiled.

“She was still in her dress!” he recalled with a hearty laugh. “She looked like an angel. We were married just a few days later. And next month will be thirty years,” he added as he lifted his left hand to show the golden band on his finger.

“Thirty years, that’s… a long time,” you sighed.

“It wasn’t always easy,” he admitted. “But it was always worth it.”

Just as you wondered what you could possibly say to that, you felt the car slow down to a stop.

“This is the address you gave me, this is it,” he explained, pointing out his passenger-side window. You leaned up against the glass and gasped in dawning fear as you saw the storefront dark and empty inside.

“No, nonono,” you whispered rapidly to yourself as you swung open the door and hopped out, pressing your face against the glass to try to get a look inside and finding what was undeniably a closed carpentry business. There was a note on the door, taped on the inside of the glass, and you knew enough Romanian to know it said something about a vacation and three months.

“Shit!” you yelped, holding your face in your hands, wondering if your journey had come to an end before it really began.

“Are you alright?” the driver asked, rolling down his window to speak to you.

“This was my only lead, I don’t have his real address,” you explained. “He used to work here, I thought maybe someone would know him…”

He sighed, giving you a sympathetic look. “Get back in, we can search nearby. You came too far to give in yet.”

But getting back in the car felt like giving in, too, which you realized as you looked back at the note taped to the carpenter's door. This was the closest you'd gotten, and it felt wasteful to leave with nothing.

Just as you were ready to hop in the passenger seat and start searching aimlessly through suburban Bucharest, or maybe look around for a Romanian yellow pages, you heard a noise from behind you, across the street; a laugh. His laugh. But it couldn’t be because it was too good to be true… and yet you found yourself whipping your head around and hoping beyond all reason that it was Sebastian.

Across the street was a restaurant, with a large patio where patrons were dining and chatting as they sat at wrought iron tables, and your eyes searched the crowd for any signs of him.

And then your gaze landed on a head of thick brunette hair, red and gold highlights so obvious now when the sunlight hit it this way. Broad shoulders wrapped in a white button-up shirt. He was facing away from you but he was looking to the side so you could see his face; he was smiling, laughing at something someone had said. And it was his smile that you recognized; it was like everything else faded away, and in that moment you thought maybe you could almost be happy with just this, just seeing him be happy even if it had nothing to do with you.

“Sebastian,” you called out to him, but he didn’t react. “Sebastian!”

His whole body turned, his eyes met yours, and you couldn't help but let the tears well in your eyes as you ran across the road to him.

He looked, understandably, stunned, and you realized he was actually waiting on a table at the moment; he said something to them, apparently excusing himself, and stepped closer to you.

But he stopped walking, not coming any closer, not exactly dragging you into his arms like you might've preferred, but with a breath to try to soothe your racing mind, you summoned your memories of the practiced letter and began. *

“Când am venit în Ungaria…” you started slowly, doing your best to remember the words and hoping your pronunciation wasn’t too awful, “nu căutam dragoste. Căutam spațiu, claritate și poate o idee de carte de un milion de dolari. În schimb, am găsit tot ce am căutat toată viața mea…”

You did your best to bite back tears, especially when his expression was nearly unreadable and you had no idea how well this was going.

“Ești tu, Sebastian, bineînțeles că ești tu,” you sighed, laughing slightly. “Ai fost acolo pentru mine când nici nu știam ce vreau de la nimeni. Ai fost prietenul meu fără să spui vreodată un cuvânt - cel puțin nu un cuvânt pe care l-am înțeles. M-ai iubit și nu știam ce să fac cu asta, pentru că uitasem cu mult timp în urmă cum se simțea să fii iubit. Și ce simțeai să iubești cu adevărat pe cineva. Dar te iubesc. Și am fost prost să te las să pleci, atât de neconceput de prost. Vreau să fim noi, Sebastian. Lasă-mă să te iubesc, mai dă-mi o șansă și îți promit că nu te voi mai lăsa să pleci niciodată.

The first thing he said was your name, and just the way he said it made you fall in love with him all over again.

“I… I dream that you would come back,” he shakily replied. “But now I cannot believe. You are my dream.”

Tears were openly flowing at this point and you wanted to run into his arms, but you tried to stay calm and hear him out. He stepped closer, almost hesitant, like you would run away if he got too close too fast.

“I love you, very much that I am sure I am insane person,” he explained with a grin, and you giggled. “We will live anywhere, do anything you would like— be my wife.”

You gasped as he pulled you into him, gripping your arms tightly as his desperation became apparent.

“Marry me?” he asked softly.

“Da,” you nodded, “yes, of course, anything—”

He kissed you suddenly, but gently, and it said more than any words in any language could.

It was a small wedding, in the Hungarian countryside by the lake. You could remember diving into that lake for lost pages of your manuscript; you could remember looking out over the water and dreaming of this moment you were living right now, thinking it was impossible.

He didn’t have much family, but they welcomed you with open arms.

Your family, well, they were too busy with planning another wedding, for your ex-husband and your ex-sister. A few of them sent cards but the rest were suspiciously quiet. You honestly didn’t even notice… you had a new family to attend to, anyhow. And it wasn’t like you didn’t have any guests, since you were able to track down and invite a stewardess named Maria, and a cab driver named Andrei and his wife, Paola.

Sebastian’s cousins weaved flowers into your hair and his grandmother tailored her dress to fit you like a glove. A picture of his parents was hung nearby in tribute; he told you they would’ve wanted to see him get married but that he felt, in some way, they were able to even if they had passed away quite some time ago.

You realized you’d never seen him in anything even mildly formal before; in fact, the suit he wore was rather casual, all things considered, but he looked so painfully cute in it. Sometimes you thought he actually looked a bit out of place wearing a shirt, though, especially one that was buttoned up all the way.

Luckily, the shirt was halfway unbuttoned about ten minutes into the reception.

Mrs. Alberti cooked a massive dinner for everyone, and even grew the flowers that you carried down the cobblestone aisle.

And wow, can Romanians drink. You had to be careful not to try to keep up with them, because if you had you would’ve been blacked out halfway into the night and the last thing you wanted was to forget even a moment of this.

As the night started to wind down to a close, you and your new husband retired to the lakehouse, running up the stairs and finding them as creaky as always.

He wrapped his arms around you in the hall and kissed you eagerly as you stumbled back into the bedroom, tripping over the doorway and falling onto the bed together.

It felt so right to have his weight on top of you, to feel his smile against your lips, to wrap your arms around his neck.

“This room,” he mumbled into the kiss. “Do you remember first time?”

“Yes,” you nodded, “da, I remember, how could I forget?”

He grinned and moved his lips down to your neck. "I thought of you every day… I love you,” he whispered.

“Te iubesc,” you whispered back.

It was almost like the first time in so many ways: passionate, yet oddly hesitant as you rediscovered each other. It was comfortable, though… you couldn’t think of any other person you felt so comfortable with, somebody who finally got you out of your own head and who made you want to experience everything life had to offer.

You were sure you’d never gone so long without worrying about something in all your life.

“My wife,” he whispered against your skin. “This is all I had wanted… from seeing you in very beginning.”

“You’re all I ever wanted,” you sighed in return, “ești tot ce mi-am dorit vreodată, Sebastian.”

Life with Sebastian was beautifully simple. You spent most of the day writing, usually, while he built furniture to sell and occasionally gardened with his spare time. You could always tell how busy you’d been with a new novel lately by how perfectly groomed the hydrangea bushes were.

You’d told him once that you’d come to Hungary looking for a million-dollar book idea. A Killer in Disguise performed alright, but not anywhere near that. The Language of Love, on the other hand, was definitely a million-dollar idea… about eleven times over. Sebastian didn’t seem to worry too much about how much money you made, though; he was just proud to say that he was the inspiration for your hit novel. You secretly suspected that he was more proud of your work reaching enough international notoriety to be translated into Romanian.

His English still needed some work, but you found it endearing. He was determined to get better and spent at least a half-hour each day practicing, but you hoped he wouldn’t get too perfect because you would miss the silly little mistakes he made. At least you could be sure he’d keep the accent forever… damn, that accent; and he knew exactly what it did to you, too.

In fact, you were crossing through the hall in your robe one evening when your husband’s voice stopped you.

“Darling wife,” you heard Sebastian call from the bedroom in a playful sing-song.

“What is it, Seba?” you asked with a smirk.

“Come in here, please…”

You opened the bedroom door to find most of the room covered in rose petals: most of all the bed, which was surrounded by candles, and topped with a shirtless (as per usual) Sebastian, laid on his side seductively with a long-stemmed rose (one you recognized from his very own garden) between his teeth.

“What are you doing?” you laughed. “Is this some sort of special occasion I’ve forgotten?”

You were already searching your mind for what it could be, but your two-year anniversary had passed a few months ago already and since it was spring it couldn’t be the anniversary of when you first met since that was late in the summer.

“Iss not quite a thpecial occathion yeth,” he answered before taking the rose from his mouth so he actually made sense. “I was considering it could be a special occasion, when we’re done…”

You smirked and climbed over the candles and into bed with him, taking the opportunity to run your hands over his chest. “And what occasion would that be?”

“A year from now, it could be the anniversary of when our child was conceived,” he answered.

Your breath caught in your throat, your voice reduced to a whisper of surprise. “Seba—”

“If you’re not ready, I will be understand,” he instantly added, stern yet soft. “Only if you want this, I just thought that maybe—”

You silenced him with a kiss, lacing your fingers into his hair and letting him roll you onto your back. He pulled back just enough to let you answer, but your noses were still bumping into each other and you smiled.

“I’m ready, Sebastian. More than ready,” you whispered.

He grinned and kissed you again, deeper and slower as he held your face with one hand and gripped your waist with the other. As his lips trailed down to your neck, you were interrupted with one pressing thought.

“Can I ask you something?”

He popped up and looked down at you with a smile. “Sure!”

“Why are you wearing ratty old jeans?” you laughed.

“Hey, these worked on you the first time,” he defended.

You gasped. “You don’t mean those are the jeans—”

“Yes,” he nodded, “the jeans that I had been wearing when I was working on Mrs. Alberti’s cottage. And, truly, when I was finding an excuse to work outside your window.”

“Wait,” you sat up, “did you actually work outside my window on purpose?”

He laughed, hanging his head quickly before looking back at you again with a sparkle in his eye. “You are very smart, my love, except for those times when you are— how do you say? Oblivious.”

You chuckled, unfortunately very aware that he was right.

“Didn’t you ever wonder why I was building a window frame, nearly a dozen metres away from the window it was for?”

You thought for a moment before dropping your face into your hands and laughing. “No, I didn’t notice that. I was too busy giving you a thorough eye-fuck,” you recalled.

“Yes, because I was not wearing a shirt and this distracted you,” he pondered, sounding suddenly like a scientist explaining a theorem or something. “See, that’s the beauty of wearing the jeans and no shirt. The body distracts you while the jeans seduce you.”

“How about you take the jeans off and put that body on me, capisce?” you pleaded; not that you didn’t love his humor or anything, but maybe his funny bone wasn’t exactly the bone you were interested in at the moment.

He grinned devilishly and suddenly pulled your legs apart, settling his body between them as he kissed your neck again, nipping at your jawline and ear. “You’re being impatient, dragă,” he purred. “You want to have my baby that badly?”

You whined involuntarily, arching your back as his hands roamed your body and finally began to untie your robe and push the silk out of the way. “Yes, Sebastian, please—”

“Let’s just say, theoretically, I wanted to have more than one? Would you have another of my children?” he asked softly as he reached up and palmed at your breasts, teasing your nipples which were already much too hard and sensitive for how little he’d touched you. The rough denim rubbing against the inside of your thighs was oddly arousing— maybe it was the sensation itself, or maybe it was just that this was almost like the first thing you imagined when you saw Sebastian all those years ago.

“Yes,” you moaned out your answer, “yes, you know I’d do anything for you.”

“What if I wanted a big family?” he pressed. “Really big? Like, Catholic big?”

“We can have our own fuckin’ Brady Bunch, Seb, I just need you right now,” you begged, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him into a hot and desperate kiss.

He decided to wait until afterwards to ask what a ‘Brady Bunch’ was. You decided to wait until afterwards to ask when he’d learned how to use the word ‘theoretically’.

sfarsit; the end

[orlissa]

Can you guys promise me something? Promise me that if you’ll ever happen to come to Hungary, especially Budapest, you’ll try chimney cake (kürtőskalács in hungarian). This is what I’m talking about:

The dough is first formed into a ribbon, then wrapped around a wooder or steel cylinder, sprinkled with sugar, and baked over a heat source (traditionally coal embers) while being slowly turned around. Once it’s done, it’s taken off the cylinder and rolled in different toppings (cinnamon, cocoa powder, crushed walnut, cocunot flakes, etc.). Because of the sugar, it has a sticky, crispy outside, and a soft inside that basically melts in your mouth. And the smell! It’s divine. You just cannot walk past a chimney cake stand with starting to salivate.

You can buy it at fancy places, but you shouldn’t. It’s totally street snack, and you can find great chimney cake stands all over the city in the most unexpected places (today I bought a piece at a metro station, from a stand that is literally between the southbound and northbound platforms). A small piece there is like $1 (290-320HUF), while a bigger one usually goes for less than $2 (500HUF). (There is also no open air festival without a chimney cake stand, but it’s way more expensive at those places, so stick to the metro station kind.)

You won’t regret it, I swear.

[edengarden]

Hi! May I have a romantic heaven box BNHA matchup, please? :)

I'm Flo, a 19 years old bisexual girl.

Appearance: I'm 164 cm(~5'3) tall, with slim, kinda athletic body. I have medium long brown hair and same coloured deer-eyes(probably most attractive part on me), I also wear eyesglasses. I have thin mouth unfortunately. Also, I have a tiny little scar above my right eyebrow(I opened our car's door on my head years ago lolol), it's barely visible. I'm vain and always dress like a lady: so dresses and skirts, I have a classy, elegant or cute style, depends on my daily outfit. I wear light makeup, but not all the time.

Personality: Ambiverted, Virgo with Leo ascendant and Pisces moon. Slytherpuff. Needless to say, these already represent how confusingly dual my personality is. My behaviour constatntly changes, depending on who I am with: I try to sell myself, being two-faced, wearing a mask(sometimes I appear to be talkative, other times full-stoic), but to people I really do love, I'm quite blunt. Most of the time I'm caring and relatively kind person(but can be an asshole&harsh if tired emotionally). Highly critical, opinionated and rational-thinker, and I usually analyze everything: movies, books, other people, myself. HATE small talk, I always want to talk about some deep shit, sharing my opinions, thougts(only if you ask for it). Enjoy debating. Also, I'm the REALLY clumsy, like clumsy af and I have an invincible talent in getting myself into the most embarrassing, cringe situations. Hate appearing to be weak or crying in front of others(I never do), and generally I can get melancolic and depressed easily. I don't really trust even my loved ones, I always hide my deepest emotional(or whatever) issues, I just can't stand the fact being emotionally vulnerable. Also, I bottle up feelings well. But I can be soft sometimes which suprises people. One of my best friends said, I am suprising, always doing something unpredicted. Additionally, I stress over something all the time. About my humour, it's kinda ironic, dark, morbid, troll-ish; roasting, teasing people 24/7. Don't worry, despite my sometimes serious act, I can be a total dumb idiot. Selfish, vain, lazy,  snobbish hahah. Quite liberal, and I almost never judge people, I mind my own buisness. When I can talk about something I love or just sharing my opinion, I am passionate and be ready for a LONG rambling. Oh, I love alcohol and going out with friends, also I smoke those occassions. Plus, I have god-like hands, everyone told me that I could earn money bc of my massaging skills(I just know by instict how to touch people lol). Oh, and I daydream and zone out a lot. I love going out and drink alcohol with my friends(and sometimes somoke too), the drunken me can be a real asshole, but also hugs out of the blue, I get softer. Oh, and I curse fucking much, I have a disgustingly flithy mouth, bc of my rather innocent appearance and behavior ppl are suprised how much is... cruse.

Relationship: I don't really have a 'type' but I get bored easily: I takes a lot for me to really like in long-term a person, so I fall easier for complex and charismatic ones(but like I said, I can fall for other personalities too!!). I'm a quite difficult person to be with and to love, so I'm suprisingly flexible in a relationship. Only thing I need and without it wouldn't work at all: DEEP CONVOS AND SOME INTELLECT. Also, I have a quite roasting-bullying type humour, so my lover should understand and being able to handle that. Anyways, I'm not much of a PDA person(but I don't mid handholding, short hugs etc. if my partner really want to), and not romantic at all(also cannot flirt hehe), and for a long time I can be bit distant. Love language is words of affirmation&quality time, and if I have to express my feelings I'm best with acts of service. I love cuddling, ppl are suprised when I initiate hugs but tbh I love physical affection. I'm probably more likely the 'friend' lover. I need a lot, lot, lot alone time.

Hobbies/Likes: classical literature, theatre, politics, hiking, sightseeing, mysteries, reading about disappearances(crimes), trying out new things, yoga, running, horse riding, table tennis, listening to music, cats, thunderstorms, rainy days, cider, tequila

Music taste: Oh man, MIXED. I listen to literally everything except techno, it depends on my mood honestly. But if I had to say something, I think indie, alternative rock, electronic and psychedelic songs are the closest to me, but I've grown to listen more and more rap. Most of the songs are depressive as fuck, I mean I can be at my happiest, but I'd still listen some dark shit. But still, I enjoy pop(2000s pop at parties FUCK YEAH), jazz. Also, some occassions all my ears and mind need is some good ol' classical music. Some faves: Tame Impala, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Jack Stauber, Fink and some Hungarian bands that no one knows unfortunately. :(

Sorry if I was too long and more sorry if I've already requested before(my brain just rots lol), then just ignore me, hehe~♡

Did you,,, did you just copy paste like 3/4 of who I am

Man when I was reading your persona I was going “RinRinRinRinRinRin-“ but I decided against it UwU

ALL IN ALL you honestly sound like my type of person?? Like deadass I’d wanna befriend you. Fuck them small talks tell me what you think of the expansion of the universe and let’s talk about what if drugs are illegal bc they make us perceive true reality-

I’m going to match you up with... Shindo!

This one is a Battle of Wits, I swear. You didn’t trust him a single bit when the two of you first met, no one even thought you’d ever become friends. Shindo could practically see the gears turning in your head and quite frankly he was impressed?? You’re a highly intelligent individual who was able to keep your guard up and seclude yourself from others while not appearing TOO unapproachable? Boy was whipped and he didn’t even realize it. While others thought you were sort of cold and pragmatic, he thought you were the most well-balanced human in the world.

You guys 100% had an enemies to lovers thing going on, but it was slightly different. YOU started off completely uninterested in him, but while he made you think the feeling was mutual, I think Shindo found himself gravitating towards you. You can bet he secretly celebrated every little victory and step forward he made with you. Boy did NOT let up.

I seriously think he’s entertaining enough for you to keep interest in him. Shindo is as two-faced as you are (if not more), and he WILL change his behaviour within a second to keep your interest (somehow no one noticed his habit of doing that when he was crushing on you?? SUSPICIOUS). Also not a big fan of small talk; if he’s interested in you, he wants to know how you tick. He wants to know what you enjoy, what you like and what you dislike. And when you tell him while trying to still keep an emotional distance from him, he takes it as a challenge. No, he doesn’t think your relationship is a game, but he does think it’s highly entertaining and interesting.

When you start softening up to him, he won’t even grow bored. He’s worked so hard to get close to you and it finally pays off and he’s so happy??

But he won’t ever initiate PDA, just because he too has an image to uphold lmao if others don’t personally know you they’d never know y’all are falling for each other.

Songs!!

- One of My Turns, Pink Floyd (“don’t look so frightened this is just a passing phase one of my bad days” just hits different for the two of you?? I’m not saying your relationship is toxic bc it really isn’t but the VIBE is there)

- Do I Wanna Know?, Arctic Monkeys

- Dollar Days, David Bowie

- You Give Love A Bad Name, Bon Jovi

[iamdorka]

I Couldn't Be More In Love

Colson and the reader have been friends since high school. “Friends”. Maybe they were more than that but before they never really spoke about it… and everything was okay until Colson started to act quite strange because the reader started to spend more and more time with his co-worker Harry Styles.

This is a piece of writing I already have finished in Hungarian… so my only work is to translate it for you and make it enjoyable for you too. Hope you like it. (The inspo behind the title was the song from the band the1975 and if you don’t know this song you should definitely check it out.)

- Colson Baker… if you touch that… I’m gonna cut you in half. – I threatened him at the moment when I saw that he was trying to taste the almost perfectly done cake on which I was working on the last couple of hours. He was tap dancing on my last nerve and he was enjoying it you just could simply see in his eyes that he was really enjoying it.

- On a scale from 1 to 10… how much do you want to kill me? – he asked when his finger was almost touching the cream on the cake. We were staring at each other in a way that it looked like we just could kill each other any moment.

I felt I could not breathe; I could not blink because if I would have done that then everything would have been ruined. I wasn’t the best cook neither the best baker so when I decided that I would make an eatable cake which somehow would not look like just a piece of shit it was a real challenge for me, a challenge I gladly accepted from myself. To be honest it didn’t really help me when Colson was nonstop by my side trying to sabotage all of my hard work.

- I just don’t understand why are you doing this. – he stated referring to the fact that I spent most of my free afternoon in the kitchen preparing this birthday cake for Harry.

I didn’t want to order a cake (which would have been so much easier) I wanted to do it myself. I spent quite lot of time with Harry, with who I became really good friend lately, so I think it was quite a nice thing to do.

- Because his birthday is tomorrow? – I asked not that he didn’t know the answer. He was acting clueless which was so not him.

- And? – he asked back and then all of the sudden he picked up the cake from the table. That was the time when I thought that my heart gonna sink or break into pieces.

- Put that cake down… for God’s sake… Colson… put that motherfucking cake back to its place because…. – as I started to get closer to him, he started to go backward with the cake in his hand but the moment he almost lost his balance I thought that I’m gonna drop dead… like I saw in my mind that he just lets that cake out from his fingers and everything turns into dust mostly my hard work.

- You are so beautiful when you are angry. – he smiled at me holding my treasure firmly in his hands. It was still safe, but Colson couldn’t say this about himself because I was planning to murder him soon.

- Then prepare yourself because I’m gonna be so damn gorgeous because I’m gonna kill you now… - I smiled awkwardly. - I’m being serious… I’m gonna die if you continue this… its not funny. – I painted him the situation in my head, but he was just still smiling. – But you have to know… If I die… I’m gonna haunt you forever, it will be my number one priority to mess your life up…. really, really bad. – I was really thinking that and by this moment there were only centimeters between us. The cake was safe and I could carefully put my hands below it but not really touching it yet.

- I would really enjoy your company… you can trust me. – he just didn’t give up.

My hand was now below his and he could have thought that I was going to grab the cake now…. but in reality, I really grabbed something else below that cake. Something that had more power over him.

- PUT THAT CAKE DOWN. – I said it again, the last time, I think. This time I think he could not misunderstand me.

- Because… what you gon… - he couldn’t finish his sentence because my fingers just got tighter on his… favorite body part.

- PUT IT DOWN. – now that the control of this situation was literally in my hands it started to get funny for me too.

Why? Because the surprise on his face was the best gift for me. Like I felt so damn powerful that I could surprise him this way that it made me incredibly happy. He could not move… he could not say a word. I enjoyed it. I enjoyed that this game backfired on him. Finally I could put a honest smile on me too.

- Okay… I will give up. – he finally put that cake back where it belonged. – You know… you can let me go too… - he leaned closer to me with a rogue smile on his lips because he was right…. somehow I did not let him go.

- Go fuck yourself. – I stated, staring in his eyes then grabbed the cake and went straight to the pantry just to put that gift in a safe place… and just to cool myself down too.

I swear to God for some minutes I literally blacked out there because I don’t know how but after a few minutes I just realized that my forehead is against the cold wall and my fingers still feeling that they are holding something. I got goosebumps all over my body, my body started to ache intensely, and I don’t even want to mention my heart race.

- AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. – I started to frisk, jump and scream just like a little girl having a tantrum kinda melt down but before I really lost my mind I stormed out of that place.

- Cheers to that! – he said with a mischievous smile sitting on the counter with a spoon in his mouth because he was just eating my ice cream enjoying everything around him… mostly my suffering, my unexplainable behaving. Only if I could read his mind sometimes… only if…

- I want some of that for me… - I pointed at the ice cream… which was right between his thighs which after my surprising act wasn’t the best place for me to point at... I just could not take it no more so before I started to embarrass myself more and more… I started heading to my room.

- Okay boss, okay… - he nodded, and I was glad that he didn’t commented on the fact that I was starting to sound and behave like a total mess.

I just needed a good damn ice cold shower and not just because the cake cream was all over me because yeah I was that good damn talented in the kitchen that on my back was cream too but because my body started to act up in a way in which it should have not. It was like it started to realize it had some kind of new deadly virus which was released just a few minutes ago.

It was really nice from Colson that when he knew that I was gonna spend some time in Los Angeles he offered me to stay at his place. I was spending some time here because I was in the studio with Harry and had some appearances in the region. First, I wanted to stay at a hotel, but he convinced me that his place has way much rooms and I could easily spend my LA time there. I can thank him a lot. He teached me a lot of the industry, of this whole crazy world we are currently living in and honestly, he was the only one I had connection with from the old times, from our high school Cleveland days. Our passion for music was a bond between us that could not be broken like ever.

- Move your ass a bit… - I said this when I was back in the living room where he was laying on the couch occupying the whole place just for himself. - I was talking to you… lazy ass. – When I was in front him, he still didn’t move a bit like he was pretending to be deaf or something.

- Okay, okay… bossy. – he laughed and satting up he made place for me too so I finally could sit down beside him.

- As I can see your ugly face needs some help too… so le me see if we can do some miracles with what I got here… - I said with a box full of face masks and creams on my lap.

- That was harsh… you hurt me girl. – he whined just like a little boy.

- Dear God… I did not say that you are not handsome… I just said that you have an ugly face. – I rolled my eyes smiling.

- What a logic we have here. – he mocked me. - So… you think I’m handsome? – he asked while I choose some cream or his skin and started to work on him a little bit.

- Just like the devil himself…. – I put out my tongue just a little bit.

- You have to be careful girl… because that devil will come for that tongue… - he said and this was the time when I decided to make him shut up, so I put some mask on his lips too.

His face mask really looked like some kind of swamp kinda thing but maybe he still looked kinda cool this way too. How could he pull this off too? Meanwhile I looked like a monster myself who could scare people away instantly.

We decided to stay in and watch some movies because we both had a long day and it was some long time ago that we could spend some quality time together so hours ago we already knew that we gonna end up here just chilling.

The thing I didn’t know was that I just would not find my comfortable place there like something inside me just could not let me be. First, I just sat there… but then I wanted to lay down, but I could not do that because I had my mask on. I didn’t even know what we were watching because if I was honest with myself my mind was on some kinda trip that it didn’t wanna share with me, so I was there in my body not really being there actually.

- Okay, please stop this because you are making me dizzy and you will fall of this couch soon… come here instead. – he put a towel on his lap and asked me to lay there instead of moving constantly like an idiot which could been annoying for him too.

- Thank you. – I murmured as if I did something wrong then laid there. There where I finally found my peace like literally. As I put my face down my body started to calm down instantly.

- Do you know until when you gonna stay in the city? – he asked, and he started to stroke my arm gently.

- It all depends how much time we gonna need in the studio… but if we see the current situation… I won’t leave the city soon. – I admitted thinking that we were already behind with the recording sessions. You can plan things out but then l comes and ruins everything.

- I wouldn’t mind if you were closer to us… - he said, and I moved a bit so now as I looked up and opened my eyes his face was right above of mine.

- You are saying this if you weren’t constantly touring yourself… - I said knowing that his schedule is hectic too. – The only thing I know that on Monday we gonna travel somewhere with Harry because we are gonna shoot our first video together… also we need to record our second song too which by the way… is a bomb. – I was really excited about working with Harry he was an inspiring soul to work and to be with too.

- I don’t know what is so special about that boy… - he shook his head not understanding a thing.

- If I think about it… he is less a jackass than you are right now. – I said it quietly than decided to close my eyes as if I were gonna mediate or something. This movie night was kind of a dead idea by now but at least we had some background noise.

- Do you like him? – he asked. I knew this is coming I felt this in my bones because the last couple of days when he knew that I would meet with him he started to act quite strange, like he was another person, not really himself.

- Like him how? – I knew exactly what he was referring to… but I just had to ask him this. He knew I liked him, that’s why we were working together… but this question had more meaning than just pure words.

- I’m just asking… you two spend so much time together… I wouldn’t be surprised if your wo were together… if you were in love with him. – Colson really lived in an alternative universe where he could really think that this is the way things are between me and Harry. If I spoke about Harry, I always referred to him as a friend… if something would be between us Colson would have knew that.

- You are right… totally right Colson. – this was the last drop I could take. I just could not lay in his lap anymore, so close to him. – I was always like that… if I started to talk with a boy the next minute, I was in his bed… it’s so typical from me. It’s so nice from you that you really think this of me… - not even thinking I was already whipping the mask off from my face.

- I didn’t say this… - he stood up too trying to reach out for my fingers, but I didn’t let him touch me.

- But it came out this way…. I don’t know what’s your problem with Harry and why is such a big problem that I’m spending more and more time with him and not always because of diversion but because we are fucking working together… which as it seems is a new information for you. – I already had everything packed in the box and I was heading back to my room, but he could easily keep track with me because his long legs helped him a lot.

- Y/N… - he tried to reach out for my hands again, but I still didn’t let him close to me.

- Just tell me one fucking good reason why you are acting like this…. why all of you are saying isn’t straight up bullshit…. – we were already in the door of my room, but he was dead silence. He could not say a word, he just didn’t move… he was just staring in my eyes as if he was debating with himself. if we wanted, we could have cut the tension between us. A sparkle and all of us would have burnt down. Just a sparkle would have ended all. – I thought the exact same thing. – he just kept his silence, but I didn’t really want to be there no more. – Good night Colson. – I nodded and stepped inside my room and headed immediately to the bathroom from where I could clearly hear that after I closed the door… his fists also met with the door… quite strongly.

[thembo-x]

4% and 5%

4% What’s the best sex you’ve ever had?

Best sex was with a Hungarian guy with a dick like a plantain. like thick, long but also kinda twisted. Anyway, he was super fun to ride. God I swear I am vers, but I’ve just been through a lot of bottom phases in my life. But I do top sometimes I promise

5% What’s the worst sex you’ve ever had?

So this is my favourite - I used to work at a provincial theatre when I was at uni and we got a lot of touring shows. One night I was late for work and was frantically bringing my bike in when one of the touring actors said hi, I was polite and said hi and ran to set up the bar, thinking nothing else of it. Anyway, later that shift, I get a call from stage door saying that the actor had asked for my number and could they give it to him. I said sure, totally confused because back then I had no idea how breathtakingly cute and twinky I was. Anyway, we texted a bit and he invited me for a drink after the show. It turns out hes been in a popular period drama, and we go back to his digs. We make out for a bit and he gives me the most uncomfortable and violent handjob I’ve ever recieved. Like I literally limped home and couldnt touch it for a day and a half. Nice guy though, he texted me to wish a merry christmas last week.

[yourbespokeartisanalapocalypse]

The Bloody Pit of Horror (1965)

Last night’s film was the 1965 Italian...er...classic...The Bloody Pit of Horror! The director, Domenico Massimo Pupillo, gave up film making eventually, apparently announcing his “disgust” at his own films, and the lead actor - Mickey Hargitay - is on record as saying that at the time he "wasn't any more of an accomplished actor than a taxi driver", but honestly, I thought it was a silly, campy, fun film that I’d happily watch again sometime.

 This film is ridiculously campy, trashy fun. Read on for gifs and a review...

The film claims to be based on the Marquis de Sade’s writing and opens with this quote...

Apologies for the quality of these gifs - it’s because the film is in desparate need of restoration. I had to play with my sound settings too to try to minimise a continual hiss :/

The “based on the writings of” is quite a claim, given that the film is about a photographer and a trashy novelist breaking in to a castle with a group of models so they can do a photoshoot for a horror novel.

Jaunty music plays as the models pose and the whole thing has a feel of a Carry on...film.

Until their sordid cavorting upsets the pious sensibilities of the castle’s resident ghost! Yes, the castle was once inhabited by the infamous ~Crimson Executioner~ and now he has returned to punish those whose spirits and bodies are not pure!

Just in case, somehow, that sounded even remotely menacing, here is what it looks like...

The Crimson Executioner is played by the Hungarian actor Mickey Hargitay, who was a former speed skater, WW2 underground fighter, and 1955′s Mr Universe. He was cast in a lot of strongman type roles - he’s Hercules in The Loves of Hercules (1960) which was featured in an episode of Mystery Science Theater 3000, and here he is on the cover of Strength Magazine:

Anyway, back to The Bloody Pit of Horror! Our masked menace goes about his business with gusto and begins setting diabolical traps...

It’s a bit like if you were to cross Cube with Carry On or a screwball comedy. His Girl in the Spider Web maybe or Carry on Dying in Ingenius Ways?

Anyway, the Crimson Executioner also gets his torture dungeon back up and running to the edification of all...

A good portion of the second half is just the masked villain running around his dungeon gleefully pulling on levers and expounding on his own perfection. It’s quite something to behold and honestly, his glee is a little infectious. There’s no gore, just splatterings of vivid fake blood and moans and screams that I swear are more orgasmic than anguished.

As a whole this is not a film you can take seriously at any point. Nothing about it is objectively good per se, but honestly as a whole it was not a bad way to spend 87 minutes.

I should note that according to its Wikipedia entry, one reviewer - Louis Paul - called the film "an exercise in homophobia and the debasement of women masked as entertainment". I haven’t been able to get a copy of the full review so don’t know Paul’s reasoning there. Certainly I think my gifs alone make it clear that the film is strongly invested in showing women first as sex objects and then being tortured which is hardly a feminist ethos, but I think it’s unlikely anyone’s going to read the premise and start the film without expecting that.

The homophobia might be present but if it is I totally missed it. I wonder if Paul is thinking of the villain as an expression of homophobic fear? The Crimson Executioner makes a few comments about women sullying the purity of his body or something to that effect, but I didn’t see any obvious gay coding or spot any hints that he is gay. Rather, it felt to me more like if Hulk Hogan played the Witchfinder General - a mix of strongman vanity (”My body is perfection!”) and puritanical piety (”Sex is evil!”). Anyway, I wanted to note that other viewers have seen it differently because forewarned is forearmed.