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#*points* BRITISH /derogatory
the-saddest-clown · 5 months
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Hello tobecky nation. Enjoy this terrible wip of smth that was funny to me in my brain. Becky is not going to finish that book anytime soon.
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fantome-sans-opera · 9 months
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Where.
Where is the tea?
I am not joking Canada.
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chilling-seavey · 2 months
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Enchanté (gr63)
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↳ A/N Desperate to get back into posting my writing on here. Please take this 25,000 words of straight filth as my first solo George writing on my blog. How the times have changed. How I have grown.
↳ Summary: On a brief business trip to Paris, you find yourself enamoured with this handsome stranger and the fleeting promises he offers in the city of love
↳ Pairings: George Russell x Fem!Stranger!Reader (NO use of y/n)
↳ Word Count: 24.5k
↳ Warnings: 18+, smut, basically pwp, one night stand, use of explicit language, oral (f & m receiving), rimming, exhibitionism, minor anal play, choking, spitting, spanking, some biting, squirting, overstimulation, use of derogatory names (slut etc.), George has a (very skilled) dirty fucking mouth, unprotected sex (and unprotected creampie...whoops)
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The crowded Parisian bar was riddled with tourists who strived pathetically to appear as locals. From your spot at the bartop, you had a view of the classy interior that surrounded you and you found yourself people watching over your icy alcoholic drink for some entertainment that wasn’t the lively jazz music that filled the quaint venue. Your black heels hooked effortlessly on the foot rest of the leather bar stool and you haphazardly stirred your straw around your glass as your gaze passed over the crowd aimlessly before you turned to look over your other shoulder. 
You weren’t overly familiar with traveling by yourself but when your company offered you an all expenses paid trip to Paris to network for the firm, you could never dream of declining. It had only been for a long weekend and as Saturday night was progressing, the realization that your short-lived trip to Europe was coming to a close was settling on your conscience. Although a little lonely, you had no complaints, and you decided to locate a bar to celebrate a successful business trip with a well deserved drink or two. 
When the bartender walked up to you on the opposite side of the bar top, you glanced up at him just as he set another glass in front of you. Before you could remind him that you didn’t order another, he gestured farther down the bar and told you politely, “From that gentleman.”
He disappeared and you followed where he had pointed to locate the stranger who had bought you another drink. The empty stools that lingered between you felt almost meant to be as the vast expanse of bar made the otherwise crowded place feel like it was only you present. Said gentleman sent you a warm smile as he lounged meticulously on his own barstool, nursing an icy drink of his own, with his light hair styled in neat perfection and his collared shirt ironed crisply and tucked into slacks. You felt silly that you hadn’t noticed him before - his handsome good looks were enough to take your breath away for a moment - but maybe the intrigue of pathetic strangers pitched more entertainment than anything else. 
You sent him a polite smile back and a silent slight nod in appreciation as you swapped out your nearly empty glass for the fresh one. He took that as his invitation and stood from his stool to make his way over to you and you looked away to keep from staring at him as he approached. 
When he was beside you, he spoke gently, his voice smooth and rich in an accent that was too British to be a local, “Hope that wasn’t too forward of me…sending a beautiful stranger a drink from down the bar.”
You allowed yourself to look up at him with a polite smile, finding yourself warm under his handsome gaze, and you replied, “Not at all. I’m flattered.”
He gestured to the free stool to your right, “May I?”
You nodded and permitted him to join you. 
Once he sat and set his own drink down on the bar, he offered his hand out to you, introducing himself as George. You politely took his handshake and introduced yourself in return, to which he let his hand linger in yours for a moment as a friendly smile pricked at his lips. 
“What brings you to Paris?” he inquired.
He was facing towards you on the stool as if in a subconscious way of telling you that you had his full attention. You nursed the icy glass in your hand and let the cold condensation seep into your clammy palm as you told him about your business trip and your luxury design firm that paid for most of it. He was tickled impressed by that and pressed on about how the city was treating you and how you were managing there for the weekend. 
“You’re talking to me like a local, but you don’t sound French.” you noted aloud, “So might I ask what brings you to Paris?”
George smiled faintly to the bar top as if he had been caught red handed, but he played it off with a modest shrug before looking back at you and answering your question, “Work, too. I’ve been here a few weeks just taking in the sights and letting the feel of the city feed my creativity.”
“Are you an artist?” you asked. 
“More of an appreciator.” he stepped over the question before turning the conversation back to you, “Have you been able to see much outside of your tight schedule this weekend?”
You didn’t press him further about his personal life but you didn’t mind sharing some of yours, “A little, but not as much as I’d have hoped. It’s my last night so I’m afraid I might have to book a separate trip to see the sights like a real tourist.”
“Too bad.”
“I know. Then I’d have to pay for the trip myself and no one has that kind of money.”
“Do they not?”
You sent him a pointed gaze but his borderline ignorant statement was countered by his wide teasing smile. 
He sipped his drink. You sipped yours. 
Despite the fact that you were virtually strangers, you found yourself trusting him and you didn’t turn away his questions about you or your life even when he stepped around your inquiries in return. You spoke about art and fashion and design and shared thoughts on recent events and fads. His answers seemed to be shallow and simple but he pressed for depth with yours, luring you into more descriptions of architecture and design and artwork that spoke to you. He was hanging onto your every word, resting on his arm on the bar top with his aquamarine eyes staring unwaveringly into yours like there was no one else in the room. 
Who was this handsome stranger and why was his attention sending butterflies through your stomach?
You found yourselves wasting an hour in that bar with the strangers you once watched fading into the background noise of the jazz music that surrounded you. After a weekend alone, it felt nice to have company and you made sure to tell him just that amidst a momentary lull in your conversation. 
George gave you a smile and dusted his fingertips over your arm, sending shivers up your spine, as he said, “Can I take you to see some sights before you have to leave?”
“It’s kind of late for things to be open, is it not?”
“Not when you know your way around.” he countered. 
You contemplated his offer since he was truly still a stranger, but you were in the city of love and he seemed respectful enough and you found yourself meeting his smile with your own, “Alright.”
George stood from his bar stool and took his wallet from his back pocket to slide his credit card over the counter towards the bartender. He then offered out his hand to you, “Shall we?”
You carefully set your hand in his, feeling the warmth of his palm against yours so naturally, and you replied softly, “We shall.” 
He helped you off the bar stool and the bartender returned his card to him and George thanked him, pocketed the card, and then gestured you towards the entrance of the bar. 
“I haven’t paid yet.” you protested quietly. 
“I paid for you.” George set his hand faintly on the small of your back, “Now come on.”
“Oh, you didn’t have to do that.” you replied bashfully as you made your way through the narrow bar and the crowds of late night patrons towards the door. “I wasn’t-”
“My pleasure.” he insisted, cutting you off with a smile. 
He opened the door for you and you stepped outside into the crisp spring air. George was close behind you and soon you were walking side by side down the Paris sidewalks and passing many closed storefronts and lively nightlife restaurants and bars that lined the streets. The dark sky above was polluted with the city light but you still inhaled the lingering scent of French pastries and wines that made up the city of culture and dreams. You habitually tucked your arms over your chest as you walked, trying to keep yourself in that moment.
“Cold?” George asked. 
“No. I’m okay.” you replied. 
“I’d offer a jacket but I don’t have one on me either.” he chuckled. 
You smiled to the cobblestones for a moment.
Your footsteps fell in steady time against the quiet streets together, walking among the gorgeous architecture side by side with the warmth of alcohol in your veins. With your arms still crossed over your chest, you looked over at George again to speak, “Do I get to know where you’re taking me?”
“Where’s the fun in that?” he countered. 
“Well, knowing that I have said yes to going out with some stranger in the middle of the night in a strange city…I wouldn’t be surprised if this was just giving you a perfect excuse to kill me.”
George replied without missing a beat, “You’re too pretty to kill.”
“Oh,” you scoffed, “thanks, I think.” 
You looked at each other from equal heights and you shared tipsy little smiles and he bumped your arm playfully so you knew he was teasing. 
He led the way through the historic streets of Paris and down a few blocks until you reached a spacious green area and he stepped off the path and onto the grass, helping you step over the short rope fence that divided the sidewalk from the gardens. You found thrill in the feeling of his hand in yours so you didn’t pull away, even once you were safely stable on the grass alongside him. George let you hold his hand and his other slid into the pocket of his trousers as you walked side by side slowly. 
The city felt so vacant and yet so full of life all in the same. It was dreamy. George tilted his head back to breathe in the nighttime air and he let it out with a hearty sigh. 
“Nothing like being buzzed while walking through the streets of Paris to make you really feel alive.” he announced. 
You giggled softly and nudged yourself against his arm, finding yourself staying warm from his presence and from the alcohol that had taken to your system, “Very true.”
Straight ahead, at the far end of the lengthy green space you strolled down, the Eiffel Tower stood out from the inky night sky backdrop out in its trims of gold lights and iron. It was nearly breathtaking and you felt the excitement in your chest as you mentally checked a sight off your bucket list. You had only seen it in passing on your short and extremely busy trip to Paris so this was your first time actually having a chance to admire the beauty of its architecture. Better late than never. 
George led you to a nearby bench that faced towards the monumental structure and, without letting go of your hand, you took a seat together. The silence was peaceful between you for a few minutes, both of you just staring up at the Eiffel Tower glittering before you, just living in the moment with a friendly stranger at your side. A few people strolled past in the dark, making their way to their own late night destinations and a couple groups even stopped for pictures of the Tower before continuing on. Seemed as though you were the only two willing to sit and appreciate the man-made beauty with your eyes rather than your cell phones.
When George's hand left yours, you glanced over at him just as he draped his arm over the back of the bench behind you without tearing his eyes away from the beauty of world-renowned architecture. But at the feeling of your eyes on him, he looked at you too, sharing a calm smile through the peaceful night and you naturally felt yourself ease back into the curve of his arm. 
“This okay?” you asked softly, hesitantly. 
“Yeah.” George answered just as gently. “What do you think of our destination?”
You tore your eyes away from his handsome face to look up to the Eiffel Tower again and, with a small smile, you responded, “It’s beautiful.”
“It’s usually so crowded during the day…it’s nice to come past at night and just take a second to sit with your thoughts.”
“I was worried I’d miss my chance to see it.” you confessed. 
“Good thing you chose to go drinking instead then.” George teased. 
You scrunched up your nose with a faint giggle, “Shush.”
He lifted his hand from the bench and gently brushed his fingers through your hair before setting his arm properly around your shoulders. You could feel the shivers down your spine from more than just the chilly night time breeze and you felt your attention drawing to his gaze again. Had he always been that close? Maybe you should have figured he would be since you had gladly leaned into him when you sat down but now you were much more attuned to the smell of his cologne and the warmth of his body. He was no more than a stranger to you but there was a pull in your chest to learn more, to figure him out. 
“Why don’t you talk about yourself?” you asked him quietly. 
He shrugged and glanced back towards the Eiffel Tower, “I don’t think there’s much to say. I’d much rather listen to you than drone on about myself…you’re much more interesting.”
He looked back at you with a calm smile.
You scoffed faintly, “I highly doubt that.”
“Miss big fancy designer on her all-expenses-paid international trips. No time for sightseeing but still has an unwavering appreciation for art and literature and everything good in the world. Everything that is just as beautiful as she is.”
His simple explanation of you had you licking away your bashful smile and looking away from him as if needing to hide your blush from the revealing light of the nearby street lamp. He danced his fingertips over your shoulder which sent shivers down your arm and you forced yourself to look back at him. 
“I wanna know more about you, mister knows his way around Paris. Buying tourists drinks in bars and sweet talking his way through intelligent conversation about fashion and art and all the greats. I wanna know why no one has scooped you up yet.”
George shrugged with a faint smile on his lips, “I dunno. No one’s really caught my interest. I’m not much of the settle down type. I like to have the freedom to roam. Today, Paris. Maybe tomorrow; Milan. Athens. Monaco.” 
“Ah, not a man to be tied down, are you?” you teased lightly. 
“I’m 26. I have lots of time.”
“I envy that mindset.”
“You don’t think the same? Taking these years to focus on your career and travel? It seems you do.”
“That’s true.” you agreed, lolling your head forward again to admire the twinkling Eiffel Towel in front of you, “I just sometimes crave to be craved, y’know? Work and travel can only satisfy so much.”
“Love?”
“Yes, but even less than that I’d be willing to have. No one has ever really taken an interest in me despite my best efforts. I want to be one of those summer-fling, no strings attached, live in the moment kind of girls but…I guess that is not me. Not written in my cards.”
You weren’t looking at him but you could feel him staring at you out of the corner of your eye. It felt weird to confess such things to a stranger of all people but at the same time, you would likely never see him again so what did it matter. His fingers scratched gently over your shoulder and that same arm gave you a little squeeze. 
“You cannot be telling me right now that no guy has tried to get with you.” he spoke in near disbelief. 
You looked over at him again, your body resting so close against his side, and you answered honestly, “Nope. And believe it or not, you were the first guy ever to buy me a drink like that.”
“Well, I’m damn proud of it then. I don’t shy away from gorgeous women…unlike clearly every single guy from where you’re from.” 
You set your hand on his thigh with a soft, “You flatter me.” 
He set his opposite hand on top of yours, “You…are beautiful.” 
One look into his eyes and your heart was thudding hard in your chest with a warmth that had to be more than just the alcohol in your system. You didn’t want to look away from him - not even to gaze upon the beauty of the Eiffel Tower just beyond. Instead, you kept your eyes on his and silently took in every inch of his handsome face as if to engrave it into a monument of your very own in your mind. You couldn’t help but worry about the night coming to an end, already getting so ahead of yourself. 
George lifted his hand from yours on his lap to dust his fingers over your cheek and he tucked some of your loose strands of hair behind your ear in the late night breeze. You shivered at his ghostly touch and your eyelids fluttered when he caressed your jaw and held your face in his warm palm for a fleeting moment. But your eyes stayed locked through the moonlit night, illuminated by the sparkling Eiffel Tower nearby, and when he licked his lips briefly, your insides flip flopped in giddy anticipation. 
“This okay?” he asked.
“Mhm.” you hummed contentedly without tearing your gaze away from his perfectly plump lips. You hadn’t realized how much you wanted to kiss them until that very moment. 
George's thumb gently dusted over your cheek and he guided you in slowly to let his nose bump testingly against yours, causing you to instinctively turn your face towards his a little more. Your breath shuttered slightly in your chest with your hand resting motionless on his thigh, not wanting to move an inch in case you scared him off; this was too good to be true. 
But in seconds, without hesitation, his arm around your shoulders pulled you closer just as his lips captured yours in a slow kiss by the guidance of his warm hand on your chin. Despite the cliché call for a swell of music and fireworks going off behind the Eiffel Tower, the silence that filled the Parisian streets in your reality rang in your ears with absolute perfection. You both stayed motionless for a few seconds, testing the waters, until George took the initiative to part your lips with his own and your head tilted just enough to go in for a deeper kiss. 
With your hand still on his thigh, your other lifted up to rest on the back of his neck just to make sure he wasn’t going to move away any time soon. He certainly wasn’t planning on it, and the way he kissed you was proof of that. His lips were so pillow soft against yours and they caused the most beautiful butterflies to erupt in your stomach and right down between your legs from only the gentlest kiss. He was so tender with it like he was almost nervous you were going to break at the first touch but then it was your turn to take initiative and you ghosted your tongue along his bottom lip. 
French kissing in Paris. Shamelessly, you mentally checked it off your bucket list once his tongue met yours. 
In the wide open greenery surrounding the illuminated Eiffel Tower, you sat together on a bench without a care in the world, letting the night around you swallow up your public display of affection. It was so out of character for you but it was thrilling all the same and you swore you could have stayed there all night just like that. He kissed you slowly and sensually, his lips fitting so effortlessly with yours and his tongue teasing against yours just the slightest amount. 
George gently took his hand from your face and set it blindly on your lap, sliding his warm palm over the hem of your tight pencil skirt and the outside of your thigh without taking his lips from yours for more than a second. Your body tried to arch against him from your spot at his side with his arm around your shoulders and you could feel him clutch you a little closer under his grasp, tilting his head to the other side for a change of pace through your kisses. 
You could taste the remanence of alcohol on his tongue as you licked your way deeper into his mouth, your fingers holding possessively to the back of his neck and along the high quality fabric of the collar of his shirt. But he fought back insistently for his control as if he were determined to keep the lead of your passionate French kisses and you would never have dreamt of declining him that. In fact, you found yourself so easily succumbing to him that your heart was racing in your chest and you didn’t want to let him go. 
His hand on your thigh left fire in its wake as he caressed you over the fabric of your skirt and dangerously close to the curve of your waist and your ass. In return, you slid your hand farther along the inseam of his slacks, earning a soft moan from his mouth into yours that you swore was the equivalent of angels singing. You couldn’t help but kiss him harder, desperate to taste more of him and those handsome sounds that you prided yourself on the ability to lure from his throat. 
When George started to pull away from your kiss, you leaned after him to chase his kiss for more with a gentle pull to the back of his neck to get him closer. His low chuckle fell against your cheek as he refused your kiss and you settled for a dusting of your lips across the corner of his mouth and his smooth cheek. He smelt so good, so manly, so fresh, so foreign, and you just had to breathe him in for a second. 
His hand rubbed over your thigh and then up your arm to gently grasp your bicep while he leaned his head back just enough to look you in the eye. Then, he offered with a voice so rich and smooth you felt it in your soul, “I have a complimentary bottle of champagne back at the hotel that won’t drink itself.”
His hotel was only two blocks away and neither of you really spoke on your walk over, and especially not about how you both seemed to walk a little quicker than before either. You were silently surprised by the five star hotel he led you into the lobby of, past doormen and sleek modern marble floors towards the elevators. 
Once you reached the sixth floor, his room was only a few paces down from the elevator bay and he pulled the key card from his wallet and opened the door for you politely. You could feel your heart thudding against your chest and in your ears as if your pathetic inexperience was thrilled with the concept of being ruined by whatever lay behind the closed hotel room door. 
The room itself was modest in size but decorated in modern finishes and furniture that matched the ritzy glamour of contemporary Paris filling the entirety of the well-known Pullman Hotel. He had kept his room generally neat with his suitcase resting closed on the floor beside the desk and only his laptop and a few belongings littering the surface. Just inside the entry to the standard hotel room was a mini bar where said bottle of champagne was resting in a half melted bucket of ice. With the door locked behind you, George stepped over to the bar and grabbed the neck of the green bottle to lift it out of the cold water. 
Your eyes were locked on him in his pink toned button up shirt and flattering slacks and you licked your lips before speaking, “I’m just going to freshen up for a sec.”
George glanced over at you and cracked a polite smile, “Sure. I’ll meet you out on the balcony.”
You smiled right back, “Okay.”
The bathroom was just adjacent to the entry door and you helped yourself, closing the door behind you to take a second to pull yourself together. You had never been so reckless with a stranger before and if the past half hour was any inclination of where this night was leading, you were really facing uncharted territory. But you still wanted it so badly and the faint haze of alcohol in your body was enough to mute your anxieties for a little while, just enough to get you to give into the temptation that pulsed within you. 
You took a moment to stare at yourself in the LED framed mirror and wiped the corners of your eyes free of the smudged eyeliner and mascara after a long day and then you fluffed up your hair a little, trying to buy yourself a few seconds before facing the rest of the night with your handsome stranger. He was waiting for you. 
Across the modest hotel room, past the neatly made king size bed and blue upholstered lounge chair, you could see his silhouette on the balcony through the floor to ceiling windows and sheer curtains. As if drawn to him, you were right away drifting across the carpeted floor to the partially open glass door. George looked up at you when you emerged from inside and he sent you a smile and held out a filled glass of bubbling champagne towards you. 
You thanked him softly with a polite smile of your own and took the long stemmed glass from his hand. Then, your attention was captured by the sparkling lights over the railing and, sure enough, the Eiffel Tower stood tall and proud over the darkened rooftops of the surrounding buildings, in perfect view from the balcony. 
“Holy shit.” you grinned, reaching a hand out to rest on the railing so you could get a proper look to the right about 30 degrees with the famous monument right beside you. It was even closer than when you had sat together in the park and you peered over the edge of the balcony to look down the street to see the looming shadows of where the large iron feet of the tower rested in the tree lined concrete only a block away. 
“Gorgeous, isn’t it?” George spoke from a step behind you. 
“Incredible. I don’t even want to know how much this hotel costs per night with a view like this.” 
George chuckled, “Worth it.”
“Seems so.” 
When the initial awe-struck shock of your view tapered off, the two of you sat on the outdoor chaise lounge together with your glasses of champagne. Like he had in the park, George draped his arm around the back of the seat so he could angle himself towards you slightly to engage in conversation as you saw fit. But you were perfectly happy just staring at him for a little bit, finally able to get a good look at him by the illumination of the balcony light above you. He was so gorgeous. You wondered if this was real. 
“Was it okay that I kissed you earlier?” he asked softly, reaching his thumb out from the back of the lounger just a few centimeters to ghost over your shoulder. 
“Yeah. It was really…really okay.” you admitted with a bashful smile. 
George mirrored your expression and then you both sipped your drinks. 
“Haven’t been kissed like that in a while. And especially not by such a handsome stranger.” you said honestly, hoping he couldn’t quite see the pink of your cheeks in the limited light you were both bathed in. Flirting wasn’t necessarily your forté but somehow, your comment had him scooting a little closer. 
“When was the last time you were kissed at all?” he pressed. 
“Over a year or two.” you answered. “Maybe even more than two…”
George’s eyebrows raised in surprise, “That long?”
“Mhm.”
“Certainly didn’t feel like it.”
“You were leading.” you protested softly. 
His fingers raised from the back of the chaise to brush your hair over your shoulder, “And you kept up effortlessly.”
You shared breathy chuckles before you pitched his same question back at him; how long had it been since he was kissed.
“Maybe a month.” he replied as he lifted his glass to his lips as if to hide behind it. 
“Okay.” you scoffed playfully, trying to ignore the feeling that lingered dangerously close to that of jealousy in your chest, “So you’re a handsome art enthusiast who travels wherever he wants thanks to an undisclosed job and hangs out in bars to take tourist ladies back to your hotel room. Starting to see why you don’t feel the need to settle down, mister bachelor.” 
“Hey now.” George tisked, “I’m not a player if that’s what you’re insinuating.”
“Oh no, of course not.” you assured him casually, “I don’t kiss players.”
His lips perked up at the corner and you sipped your drink behind raised brows. 
George’s head cocked to the side slightly, curiously, and he pitched a question to you, “Well, what do you think my intentions were when I invited you back here?”
It was a teasing inquiry that definitely put you on the spot but you had the wit to counter his remarks. You swirled your glass of champagne gently in your hand with an easy response, glancing out across the night covered city, “To try French champagne with a movie-esque view of the Eiffel Tower, of course.”
George stared at you with that sly little smirk, “Mhm.”
“Why?” you glanced back at him innocently, “Was there something else that you had intended from your generous hospitality?” 
You were sure he had shuffled closer when you weren’t looking and you were almost as close together as you were on the bench moments earlier. His index finger twirled through your hair and then the back of it caressed your flushed cheek as he spoke softly, “Just to show you how a real gentleman appreciates a lady as beautiful and as fascinating as you.”
“Oh yeah?” you licked your lips habitually, your gaze drifting between his eyes and his lips, “And how might that be done?”
“C’mere and I’ll show you.” he whispered.
His voice alone had the ability to make your insides twist with lust and you didn’t need to be asked twice before you were leaning in those few extra centimeters to meet him halfway for another kiss. Your lips locked effortlessly as if the practice at the park came in handy and after your first one, he was pulling away just long enough to move in for more. His hand danced around the side of your neck and the pad of his thumb pressed gently to your jaw to guide you into your sensual kisses on the private hotel room balcony. 
You both leaned into it at the same time, tilting heads and parting lips in unison with champagne glasses held forgotten in your hands. His soft moan into your mouth made your pussy throb and you gave him a little hum in reply, peaceful and content and not wanting him to stop. He read your non-verbal language perfectly as his hand cradling your face slid farther around the side of your neck and his fingers pressed in place there to pull you into him. Your free hand reached out to catch yourself on his thigh thanks to his insistence to get you impossibly closer but you gladly kept right up with his lips and his tongue that teased yours. 
The night air felt hot in that moment and yet you didn’t want to stray even a millimeter away from him. In fact, when he tried to take a second to break away from your kiss for a breath, you reached up from his lap to grab his cheeks in your hand and pull his lips back to yours. His chuckle was warm and low against your mouth and you could taste it on your tongue as his pushed back against yours in retaliation. Your kisses were lustful and full of silent desire but they were slow and savouring as if each single kiss had your entire heart and soul put into each one. You sucked on his tongue greedily, earning another pretty groan out of his chest and he nipped at your bottom lip and gave you one more off center kiss before he was dropping his face into your neck. 
Your hand that had taken to his cheeks slid around his shoulder instead and your mouth fell open, peacefully agape, as you stared out towards the Eiffel Tower in the near distance, sparking against the inky night sky, while your handsome stranger kissed up your neck. His lips were so heavenly and your eyes fluttered with bliss as he trailed open mouthed kisses across your tender skin, his hand still secure at the back of your neck, holding you in place. You could feel his warm breath leave shivers in its wake and you bit your lip instinctively as your senses were focused all on him. 
You never knew neck kisses could feel that good and you let him know through soft hums of appreciation and the way your fingers grasped the back of his button up shirt. No one had ever kissed you like that and any hints of nervousness that had once grazed your mind were thrown out the window by his effortless touch. He sucked gently on your supple skin before soothing it with a modest lick and you leaned your head back so he could take the hint to let up from your neck in exchange for your lips again. Gladly accepting, you shared a few more loud sloppy kisses before he sunk his teeth into your bottom lip and gave it a little tug as he pulled away. Side by side on the outdoor chaise lounge, your eyes met in your close proximity, pupils blown wide, and your half-empty champagne glasses were still held in your hands.
George licked his lips and you shifted your hand from the back of his shoulder to trace the shape of them with the pad of your index finger. He spoke to you quietly through your touch, “You said guys don’t really take interest in you…so how far have you actually gone before?”
“Such a salacious thing to ask a lady.” you tisked in mock offense before bringing your hand back to your lap.
“Just trying to set our boundaries for tonight.” he protested with a handsome grin that he licked away.
“I will be comfortable with anything we decide to do.” you answered honestly and almost too easily.
“You’re avoiding the question.”
“Annoying, isn’t it?” you pushed back at him. “I need a little sense of mystery too. You can’t be the only mysterious stranger here.”
He cocked an eyebrow behind a sip of his drink before answering, “Touché.”
“My experience is limited.” you elaborated slightly, “But I am more than willing to experiment.” 
George swirled his finger around the rim of his glass with his eyes focused all on you as if he were debating his next move. You waited, willing to make him work for it a little, tucked up beside him in the Parisian night with a gentle breeze in your hair. You were sitting so close together that you could smell him and you wanted to completely engulf yourself in him that instant. There must have been something about the French air that just ignited this unfamiliar lust within you. 
But apparently George was of the same mindset, undoubtedly sealed by the steamy kiss you had just shared, because his next question was so blunt that it nearly took the air from your lungs. He asked it softly, gently, with his hand trailing over your shoulder and your collarbones and down the neckline of your blouse, “So you’ve never had cum on your tits before?” 
You stared at how he stared at you, and you replied with a whisper, “I’ve never had cum on anything before, to be honest.”
“Well let’s change that.” he pitched, “You wanna?”
You bit back your smile and nodded without hesitation. 
He leaned forward to set his champagne glass on the outdoor table beside the bucket of melting ice and you rested yours down too, unable to smother the grin that was only growing wider across your face. The moment his glass was out of his hand, George was leaning back against the back of the chaise lounge and starting to unbuckle his belt. You tucked one leg up underneath you so you were facing towards him a bit better and you caressed down the front of his shirt with a gentle hand while leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth and, when he turned his head in your direction, you kissed his lips. 
The sound of his belt buckle clanking faintly as he unpinned it had your insides stirring with lust and as you kissed him like you had only a few seconds before, you reached down to help him out a little. You were both impatient for it and thus you both broke your kiss to look down towards his lap as he finally got his belt undone and you took the initiative to pop the button of his pants and tug down the zipper. His hips flexed up towards your hand naturally with him lounged back on the chaise and his feet flat on the ground, so willing to let you take to him however you saw fit. 
“Did you want me to suck your dick?” you asked softly as if nervous someone was nearby to overhear, with your hand still tucked around the waistband of his pants. 
George stared up at you with sweet blue eyes and a sultry smile to match, “Yeah. If you want to.”
You exchanged a genuine smile with him before you were standing up from the chaise lounge and pitching, “On my knees?”
“However you want, gorgeous.” he answered smoothly. 
You tucked your hair behind your ears and gently scooted the small outdoor table out of the way so you had room to sink to your knees in front of him. The floor of the hotel room balcony was cool and strenuous against your bare knees but your attention was focused on things other than your own personal comfort as you tugged at the waistband of his pants to start to shimmy them down his legs. George shifted slightly to help you take them off and he kicked off his shoes at the same time and discarded both articles to the side, leaving him in only his underwear and his button up shirt. 
Your warm hands slid up his thighs and to his waist, allowing you to lean in towards his lap with your eyes set on the sizable bulge in the front of his underwear. It was almost embarrassing how quickly your mouth was watering and you licked your lips before leaning down to kiss him through the fabric, raising your gaze up to his face when you dropped out your tongue to tease over the shape. With a shaky exhale of anticipation, George brushed his hand through your hair softly to keep it out of your way and didn’t dare to tear his eyes away from you as your gentle hand moved to the front of his underwear and your palm rubbed over him warmly. 
You could feel how hard he was already through the thin material of his briefs and your teeth sunk into your bottom lip lustfully to try and bite back the excited grin that came with the racing of your heart. In fact, you could easily wrap your fingers around the thick shape of his cock and give it a little squeeze just to feel it twitch in response with a soft groan from the man who laid before you. Leaning down towards him, you pressed a slow open mouthed kiss to the kiss of his pelvis that was peeking out from under his underwear and the hem of his shirt before giving him another one right over the Calvin Klein label across the waistband. 
“Didn’t know you were such a fucking tease.” George said quietly, draping his arms across the back of the chaise lounge. 
You smiled up at him proudly before linking your fingers in the sides of his underwear and started to pull them down his thighs, carefully lifting the snug fabric over his hard cock as you released it from the confines. His briefs were dropped haphazardly down his shins and he kicked them to the side to give himself free reign, unable to stop staring at the way you stared at him so wide-eyed and angelic. 
With your hands resting sweetly on his thighs, you were shamelessly gaping at the first hint of masculinity that you had seen in ages and the first one you so desperately wanted to see. You didn’t even realize you could think a cock was gorgeous, but his was. Perfectly shaped with trimmed dark brown hair around the base and down over his balls, you couldn’t stop gawking at him. It naturally rested up against the dip between his pelvis and his thigh from how hard he was, swollen so thick and large that part of you wondered how you were supposed to fit the whole thing in your mouth. And the tip was so pretty and blush pink that you just had to reach out and gingerly dust your fingertip across it, making his cock twitch at your ghostly touch. 
You then wrapped your hand around it to lift it up away from his body and angled it towards your mouth so you could purse your lips and let a thick string of saliva fall onto the head and it dripped down the side. George shuttered slightly and you looked up at his face again just as you dropped out your tongue and licked at the sensitive underside of his pretty pink tip. It was then quickly followed by another precise lick right up the shaft of his cock with your dragging your flat tongue wetly right along his flesh to taste every inch of him. 
Both of you let out soft hums of appreciation at the same time and as George’s lips perked up at the corner at your mirrored responses, you wrapped yours around the head of his dick and slowly sucked on it. His head fell back slightly with a tight groan from his throat at the first feeling of your mouth taking him over and you caressed it with your tongue in messy swirls at the same time. But then you were pulling off him with a wet pop and you tucked your hair behind your ears again before taking hold of the base of his cock again to keep him steady as you sank your mouth down around him. 
Like a true gentleman, your handsome stranger reached down with both hands to gently pull your hair away from your face and over your shoulders and into a snug make-shift ponytail in his grasp. With your hand still holding him steady, you gave him shallow testing motions of your warm wet mouth, making sure to hollow your cheeks on each up stroke to suck on him prettily. 
“God, you’re such a good girl.” George exhaled with that honey rich tone of voice that made your pussy throb under your skirt. 
You moaned around him at his praise and let yourself drool down his cock as you sped up your mouth a little with your hand starting to use your spit as lubrication to stroke him off at the same time. His grasp in your hair followed the motions of your head easily and he peered down at you through lustful eyes as you took his cock in your mouth like it was your day job. 
“You like praise, baby?” he pressed on quietly. 
You lifted up from his lap to look up at him with your hand taking over on his dick in quick pumps as you answered, “Yeah.” 
“Yeah?” George smirked softly back at you, his eyebrows raising when you dribbled more spit down onto his cock in your hand without tearing your gaze away from his. 
Then you were sinking your mouth back down around him and taking him in against your tongue through plush drooly lips, matching the pace with your hand until the faint wet rhythmic squelch filled the private hotel balcony. It was hard to believe that even after having him in your mouth, you were still salivating for more. 
George played to that perfectly as he kept holding your hair back in one fist as he spoke down to you in that velvet accent of his, “I know you can be a good girl for me and take more of my cock in your pretty mouth.”
Your eyes nearly rolled at his filthy words and you moaned in acknowledgement around him before gently shaking your head to get yourself deeper. Tears pricked your eyes slightly as you forced yourself farther down on him until the head of his cock was nudging into the tight confines of your throat. You gagged faintly around him but kept yourself bobbing your mouth along the length of his dick steadily until your spit was leaking over your hand and down his balls. 
“That’s it,” he exhaled, “Just like that, baby, fuck.”
George tucked one hand behind his head, looking so handsome in that button up shirt and nothing else, his legs spread on either side of you to give you a spot to kneel with your face in his lap. You slid your free hand up his waist and tucked the hem of his shirt in your thumb so you could push the fabric up and out of the way slightly, only moaning around his cock when you felt the faint arches and valleys of his abs under your palm. You just wanted to give him everything. 
The gags that were forced from your throat only got louder as you pushed yourself onwards and bobbed your head down on him a little faster, thankfully still quiet enough to stay within the open confines of the balcony you were on. Your grasp on his slicked up cock kept in time with your mouth in long twisting strokes, guiding your motions effortlessly. 
“Fuck, baby.” George groaned, “Your mouth feels so fucking good, holy shit.” 
Driven with lustful desire, you pulled off of him with your tongue dragging up the underside of his cock in your wake, and you gasped out of it filthily but still kept your hand around him securely as you pitched your plea, “Can I eat your ass too?”
His eyes nearly popped out of his head at the salacious request that you offered with such an angelic smile but he nodded, “Yes. Yeah, baby, that’s so fucking hot.” 
You grinned up at him and helped him lift his feet up from the ground so his body weight was resting back against the chaise lounge and he let go of your hair so both of his hands could grasp the backs of his knees to keep himself spread for you. You removed your hand from his dick to set both palms on his ass and spread his cheeks open, your heart racing in your chest and your throat as this handsome man laid spread before you, completely at your mercy. 
“Has anyone rimmed you before?” you asked. 
“No. But I’ve been curious.” he answered to the balcony above as if he were almost nervous to look at you. 
“Good.” you leaned down and spit loudly on his perineum, “We’ll each have something new to experience tonight.”
“What’s that saying? What happens in Paris…” George said playfully. 
You shared light laughter.
Then, he asked, “Have you ever rimmed someone before?”
“Nope.” you replied, “But you’re so fucking hot and it made me want to really badly.” 
He couldn’t get another response out before you were leaning in and dragging your flat tongue right over his asshole, smearing your spit right across it and up to his balls. 
“Fuck.” George lifted his head to look down at you.
You sent him a salacious smile from between his legs and slid your palms up the backs of his thighs before leaning in to swirl the tip of your tongue around his tight rim of muscle and you prodded at it gently. His mouth was agape as he stared at you in near awe, watching how you licked and kissed at his asshole until your right hand was reaching up to wrap around his hard cock to lazily jerk him off at the same time. He moaned lowly, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip to try and keep himself quiet in the open balcony you found yourselves on. 
Your hand around his swollen dick kept pumping him in messy flicks of your wrist angled up towards his abdomen while your tongue swirled and lapped at his asshole to pull another tight groan from his chest. It felt so good to bring him pleasure and you couldn’t help but drop your other hand down to gently grasp his balls in your warm palm, kneading them tenderly, and George’s head fell back against the lounge. 
“Fucking hell.” he exhaled shakily. “God, this feels fucking insane.” 
You giggled sweetly and kissed the doughy flesh of his ass and then gave him one last proper lick before you were rising up onto your knees properly and guiding his cock back into your mouth. He let out a tight grunt at the surprising feeling of your warm wet tongue taking to his aching dick and he heaved his head up from the back of the couch and reached a hand down right away to tangle in your hair again. But you were a step ahead and you were already starting to bob your mouth down around him in sloppy strokes, only made stronger by his little tugs of your head towards his lap that made you choke steady around him.
“I love how you gag when I push it deeper.” he said through his teeth, “Such a good fucking girl.”
You kept your other hand on his balls and cupped them in your palm and squeezed faintly, making his cock twitch against your tongue. You were honestly making a bit of a mess with the tears pricking your eyes and the drool slipping down your chin and over your hands that cradled him lustfully. George’s hand in your hair kept you going a little faster and his feet slipped off the edge of the lounger to rest back on the ground, spread nice and wide for your mouth to take as much of him as possible as his breaths fell heavier into the nighttime air. 
But then he was slowing you down with a, “Fuck, okay, stop a second.”
You pulled off of him right away with a gasp for air, a thick string of saliva breaking away from the head of his cock and it dripped down your chin for you to wipe it away with the back of your hand. He sat himself up a little more from his slouching position and his hand took your place around his dick in those quick pumps. 
“Can you take your shirt off for me?” he asked, although his tone had just the perfect hint of demanding. 
You licked away your grin at what you knew was coming and you hurried to unbutton your blouse in front of him from your knees. It was dropped to the side with his slacks and his shoes and you took the initiative to let your bra join it, too driven by the dangerous combination of lust and alcohol to overthink anything. 
“Fuck, good girl.” he praised with his eyes glued to your chest and his hand keeping strong strokes around his cock. 
You reached up to graze your fingers around your hardened nipples before groping your breasts in your full palms. George groaned lowly and shuffled a little closer to the edge of the chaise lounge, his feet still anchored on the ground with you kneeling prettily between them. His dick in his hand was right in front of you, just below eye level, and you pursed your lips to drip more of your spit onto the pretty pink tip for him to smear in with his secure hand in quick erotic pumps. 
“You’re so fucking filthy.” he whispered strongly, “You’re gonna make me fucking cum.” 
“Please.” you begged with a soft voice, peering up at him behind long lashes as your hands pushed your breasts together, “Please cum on my tits.” 
“Fuck.” George groaned through his teeth, his biceps bulging with how close he was getting himself and the slick sound of his hand pumping his cock was apparent over your shared heavy breaths on the balcony. 
“I’m your good little slut.” you breathed. 
You could literally hear him choke over his next breath but that fact only brought a proud smirk to your face as you watched him succumb to your simply crafted words, his hand tugging faster at his cock with his jaw clenching tightly. 
“Yeah, gimme it.” you whispered, “Cum all over me.” 
In seconds, George’s face was scrunching up and his hand was shuttering on his dick just before he came with a moan that was smothered by his bitten lip. You watched with wide eyes as the first pretty white spurt streaked across your chest as your hands held your breasts together for him, giving him room to paint you in ribbons of creamy white. 
“Oh my God.” you groaned heartily as you stared down at yourself and the mess he made, the last few drops slipping out of the tip and down the shaft of his dick towards his fist. Cheekily, you dropped out your tongue and lapped at the leaking slit at the head of his cock to clean him up a little and to watch how it made him flinch sensitively. 
“Oh my God.” George echoed, his chest rising and falling quickly behind his pretty button up shirt while your eyes met. 
You bit your lip excitedly at the realisation of what had just happened and the lust that had taken to your mind only flowed through you even stronger than before. You leaned up from your knees to push your lips on his in an off centered kiss and George gladly grabbed your cheek in his hand to keep kissing you. Both of you were greedy and sloppy with it without an ounce of politeness in sight as you French kissed overlooking the Parisian night sky and George’s hands ran up your hips and over your bare breasts that were still streaked in dripping cum.
You stood up between his legs without tearing your lips or tongue away from his, only mumbling into his kiss as you held yourself up on his bare thighs, “My pussy is so fucking wet.”
He danced his fingertips down your torso to the waistband of your skirt, “Can I feel?”
“Yeah.” you answered easily into his mouth. 
George’s lips locked with yours again as his hand helped itself up your skirt until it was bunching around your mid-thighs and he could glide his fingers over your panties. Standing between his legs and bent over at the waist towards him, you held his face in your hands to keep kissing him even as he moaned into your mouth at the discovery of the soaked through fabric. 
You didn’t stop him as he gently nudged your wet panties to the side to glide his fingers over your pussy, slicking them up in your warm arousal in taunting back and forth caresses. You shared deep moans into each other’s mouths, trying to stay quiet in the outdoor setting but it was hard when the lust that joined you together was unbearably strong. 
“You’re fucking soaked.” George mumbled into your kiss, rubbing his fingers a little harder between your slick lips. 
You sucked on his tongue as you pulled away from his mouth, offering bravely, “Wanna taste it too?”
He licked his lips behind his obvious smirk, “Yeah.”
You stood up straighter as if preparing to swap spots with him but George had other plans. 
He gestured across the balcony, “Lean forward against the railing.” 
It was an offer you couldn’t refuse. 
While you turned yourself around to face the edge of the balcony and the city of Paris beyond, the sparkling Eiffel Tower to the right of the hotel urged you closer to the railing for an idyllic view. The darkness of the night provided sufficient shadows over your exhibitionist scene on the sixth floor balcony for you to feel too shy from any potential onlookers at street level with you in absolutely nothing from the waist up. George was right up behind you in an instant though with his hands on your body and his lips on your neck, kissing right up under your ear to make you shiver and you reached a hand back to tangle in his hair over your shoulder, eyes fluttering shut. 
He had unbuttoned his shirt at some point as you could tell by the feeling of his bare chest pressing against your bare back and the sensation of his warm skin against yours was invigorating. But it wasn’t long before he was kissing down your shoulder and down your spine and sinking to his knees behind you, taking your skirt down with him in his greedy hands. You stepped out of it and let him toss it to the side before his hands were groping the flesh of your ass and he nudged his face right between your cheeks, guarded only by the thin lace of your panties. 
George kissed teasingly over the curve of your cheeks and then sunk his teeth into the fabric of your underwear gently, earning a soft mewl from you as you leaned farther over the railing and he gave them a tug. Then they were coming off next and you were standing naked at the edge of the balcony, guarded only by the night sky and the arch of your body in an attempt to keep yourself guarded behind the railing. George’s large hands pulled at your cheeks to spread you open for his hungry eyes and then he was leaning in and licking right up over your pussy. 
You shuttered with a soft gasp, flinching under the touch of his tongue, and your fingers wrapped around the smooth metal of the railing. He lapped at your pussy lazily for a few seconds, tasting his first indulgence of you until he was sitting back with a moan and a lick to his lips. 
“Fuck, you taste so good.” he breathed, giving your ass a jiggle before he was moving back in. 
You giggled softly through the Parisian night and sunk your teeth into your bottom lip as you focused all your attention on the feeling of his tongue gliding up between your folds and tasting how you dripped for him. He groaned against your pussy and kept his hands on your ass and your hips to hold you on his face as he parted his pillow soft lips to take more of you in his mouth in greedy suckles. 
Your eyes fluttered as you stared out across the rooftops to the sparkling Eiffel Tower under the sensations of his heavenly mouth on your cunt. Spreading your feet a little farther apart in your heels, you pushed back against his face to earn another hearty moan out of his chest and he gently shook his head to smother himself in your body as he licked you out with a skilled tongue. Your body burned for more and you moved a hand from the railing to reach back and tangle in his hair, pulling his face in where you needed him. George took your guidance and shifted a little lower to flick at your clit, pulling a soft gasp from your throat. 
He took a hand from your hip to slide two fingers in his mouth for a quick second before he was reaching between your legs and rubbing his fingertips over your swollen clit. Your moan was muffled by your bitten lip and you pushed back against his touch, drunk on the feeling of him touching you in all the right spots like he knew you so well. His tongue kept prodding at your pussy and licking up the sweet arousal that leaked out of you by his own mere presence, tasting you with pleasant moans of his own. 
You were trying to be quiet as you faced the city beyond but he certainly wasn’t making it easy. Your hand in his hair ended up making it back to the cool metal railing as you were desperate for something to hold onto to stabilize yourself. In the silence of the night, you mouthed a swear word to the sky and rocked your hips back slowly against his mouth and fingers. George hummed against you and then pulled away with a slurp for more quick flicks of his tongue across your cunt.
But then he was sitting back on his knees slightly to ask you quietly, “Can I put my thumb in your ass?”
Your eyes widened, “Really?”
“If you want it.” he kissed your cheek, fingers still ghosting over your clit as if comfortingly. 
You felt entirely trusting of him and you permitted him with a mumbled, “Okay. Be gentle though.” 
He kissed your hip, “Of course.” 
You heard him suck on his thumb for a moment and then pull it from his lips with a wet pop and then he was spitting loudly onto your asshole. This was so far into uncharted territory for you that you swore your eyes were nearly as wide as saucers as you stared across the city and focused on the twinkling starriness of the Eiffel Tower just to your right. The pad of his thumb swirled faintly around your tight rim of muscle before he was slipping it inside just a little, just down to the first knuckle. 
Then his tongue was on you again, lapping at your pussy eagerly with that added fullness of his thumb that had you biting harder on your bottom lip as the warmth cascaded through your body. It was only helped by his fingers on your clit and the way he rubbed quick precise strokes to the sensitive, swollen bud that eased you into this newfound world of lust you had never had the chance to explore before. 
“This okay?” he asked breathily against your cunt. 
“Yeah.” you answered quickly. 
He chuckled warmly into you and let his tongue do the talking, giving you long full strokes in quick succession that had you legs flinching for a second. You could feel yourself dripping down your inner thighs as the seconds passed, undoubtedly mixed in erotically with his spit as the filthy wet sounds of his mouth grew messier by the second. His cum was slipping down your chest and between your breasts too but what was once a feeling you would have hated was suddenly filled with a new sense of lust that made you feel claimed by him; this handsome stranger whom you trusted all too easily. The moan that fell from your lips was accidental. 
George pulled away from your pussy with a wet slurp and he took his hands back to squeeze your hips before he was dropping out his tongue and licking right up your spine until he reached your neck and his hand tangled in your hair and pulled your head back so he could get his lips on yours. You kissed him gladly, shamelessly throbbing under his obvious dominance, and you reached a hand back to pull him closer by the back of his neck, licking your way into his mouth to taste yourself on his lips and tongue. 
Standing together naked on the balcony, your silhouettes stood out against the illuminated hotel room to the Paris horizon, and he was so close to you that you could feel his hard cock pressing against the back of your thigh. Despite his obvious physical urgency, he was a gentleman and he let you pull kisses from his lips until you made the next move. Of course, it didn’t take you long since the arousal in your own bloodstream was driving you wild, and when you broke your kiss and his lips met your neck, you breathed your plea into the Parisian evening, 
“Please fuck me.” 
George’s groan against your neck was shiver worthy and you tangled your fingers in his hair as he kissed up under your ear. 
“Right here.” you added. “Right now. Please fuck me.” 
He nipped at your ear lobe, “Okay…I gotta get a condom.” 
“Just pull out.” you exhaled, pulling his lips back on yours hungrily by your hand at the nape of his neck. 
After sharing a few more feverish kisses, he asked, “You sure?”
“Are you clean?” you asked. 
“Yeah. Of course.” he answered respectfully. 
“Then yeah.” you wiggled your bare ass back against his cock, feeling the way it slipped so easily between your cheeks. Your teeth captured your bottom lip again as your hands fell gently onto the railing and you ground yourself back on him slowly, tauntingly, impatiently. 
George stood up straighter behind you and shuffled up closer, resting his left hand on your shoulder while his right slid the head of his cock along your pussy to collect more of that creamy wetness you were covered in. You arched a little more for him, bending right over until your forearms were balanced parallel across the flat railing and your ass was pressed right up against his body. 
“I can already feel how warm you are just like this.” he mumbled into the nighttime air. 
“So get inside.” you pitched. 
His hand tightened on your shoulder as he took your invitation gladly and carefully slipped the head of his dick inside you. The initial stretch had your eyebrows furrowing and your mouth dropping open at the stinging ache it pushed across your hips but you weren’t going to offer a single complaint. Especially not when his rich moan at his first feeling of your pussy gripping his cock had you set ablaze. 
“Shit, you’re so fucking tight.” he exhaled. 
You hung your head with a small whine as he pushed in a little more and both of his hands were at your shoulders before sliding down the curve of your back. You were afraid to speak as if he would be able to hear the quiver in your voice from the way he stretched you open so agonizingly. His palms caressed your hips and up the side of your torso and he gave you a few shallow thrusts. 
“Can I put it all in?” he asked softly. 
You lifted your head up and tried to look back at him over your shoulder in weak surprise, “This isn’t all of it?”
He chuckled, “No. I’m only halfway.” 
“Fuck.” you gaped before turning back to the skyline, “Yeah, gimme it all.” 
You braced yourself on the railing as he sank deeper inside your tight cunt, filling you up snugly until you could feel that aching pressure deep inside you. The soft whimper that fell from your lips when he fit entirely inside you and his skin pressed right up against your ass was involuntary and his hand pressed to your mouth right after. 
“This okay?” he asked against your ear as he leaned over you slightly. 
“Mhm.” you mumbled into his palm. 
“You’re such a good girl.” he praised you lustfully, “Taking every last fucking inch of me with the whole city watching.” 
You moaned quietly against his hand again and he gave you a slow testing thrust that made your eyes roll shut and your fingers tightened on the railing. George’s soft breath against your neck was warm and invigorating and as the strain across your hips faded into more pleasure than pain as your body grew used to it, you found yourself pushing back against him. It encouraged him to thrust into you a little faster, a little harder, and you arched your back a little deeper for him.
“That’s it.” he exhaled, keeping one hand over your mouth with his other grabbing the flesh of your waist to pull you back into his every thrust. “Fuck.”
In only a few seconds, your secret exhibitionist rendezvous on the hotel balcony was growing louder with the wet slap of skin thanks to your own slick arousal and his spit that had slicked you up at the same time, now only made worse by the pleasure he introduced to your body that made you drip down his cock. It was a consistent rhythm of gentle beats, punctuated by his balls hitting your clit at that perfect angle that had you moaning into his hand still clamped over your mouth. 
Your hazy gaze peered over the Paris rooftops and out towards the Eiffel Tower, dizzy with wonder as to how this was real life. It was an erotic movie moment, you were sure. How could a man so glorious as him want to take you back to his hotel like this? You weren’t willing to complain, however. Especially not when his strong strokes had any thoughts tumbling out of your brain and vanishing into thin air right before you. Balanced on your black heels spread shoulder width apart, you were leaning so effortlessly over the railing at its perfect height with that angle that allowed the head of his cock to plunge so precisely into you over and over again. 
“Oh my God, George.” you moaned into his hand, trying to turn away from his restricting palm but he kept a secure grasp over your mouth. So you were stuck muttering against his hand, “Feels so good.”
Your sounds of pleasure pulled a soft grunt from his chest, holding onto you has he fucked you over the hotel railing until you were both huffing with desire for more. But it was overwhelming and addicting and it was getting harder to hold back the moans that were born at the back of your throat, even with his hand covering your mouth. You couldn’t help yourself as you started to get a little loud, struggling to hold back amidst the pleasure he introduced to your body, and soon his hand wasn’t doing much anymore as your moans tumbled over the Parisian rooftops and to the street below. 
“Shh.” George reminded you against your ear, still thrusting away into your pussy just hard enough to keep those steady claps of his skin against yours going. He slipped his index finger past your lips with the rest of his hand still pressed to your mouth and as you sucked on it gladly, he spoke lowly to you, “Keep your voice down. Someone could hear you being a dirty fucking slut for me.”
But, of course, his little ‘threat’ only had you moaning louder with lust around his finger and you greedily dropped your other hand down from the railing to rub at your aching clit. The way your body pulsed around him had him dropping his head back for a moment, mouthing a swear word to the balcony directly above you without faltering for a second. 
Unbeknownst to the both of you, down on street level, there was a recreational park opposite the hotel at which a group of young men were playing soccer. The silence of the night and the vacancy of the street had allowed for the sounds of your attempted secret balcony rendezvous to be carried from the sixth floor and down to the park. One of them spotted you first, pointing up to the balcony to his friends to catch a glimpse of the salacious tourists. One stuck his pinkies in his mouth and whistled loudly, earning the quickly following hollers of his friends in your direction. 
Your attention was pulled from the night sky to the group of young men down below in the park and your eyes widened, “Oh my God.”
You could feel George smirk against your temple, “Wanna put on a fucking show, do you? I told you to be quiet.” 
Now having been found out, George removed his hand from your mouth to wrap around your throat instead and he pulled your head right back so his lips could graze against your ear while his hips shoved hard against yours over and over in quick succession. 
“This okay?” he whispered. 
You nodded, “Uh huh.”
“Yeah? You want me to choke you?”
“Fuck, yeah.” you breathed, staring longingly into his eyes over your shoulder while your fingers kept rubbing messily at your clit. 
George’s eyes darted past you before meeting your gaze again, “They’re fucking watching.” 
“Don’t stop.” you pleaded, keeping your stone grip on the railing. “Please, don’t stop.” 
“You’re so fucking dirty.” he spoke to you through his teeth, tightening his hand around your throat and you whimpered desperately against his lips with how close you were together, your body nearly bouncing on his cock with how strongly he was fucking you over the railing. “You gonna cum for me?”
“Fuck, yes, I wanna cum for you.” you answered obediently, drunk on lust as if the real world were universes away. 
“For me and those men down there watching you get fucked with my cum all over your tits?”
“Yeah.” you whimpered, twitching with pleasure and your heels scuffed across the concrete ground of the balcony. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck-” George groaned against your cheek, still keeping that steady pace of every thrust into your sopping body. “That’s it, baby, just fucking take it.” 
You could feel your pleasure building and building, trembling inside you with tight warmth that overwhelmed your senses that you didn’t even care about your public standing as you cried out for him euphorically. And he seemed equally enthralled by your desire to be loud for him despite your onlookers, fucking you a little stronger just to help you out a little more with his hand around your throat pulling your lips onto his for a few off-centered kisses. 
“That’s it. Yes!” you squeaked, pulling away from his kiss, “Fuck, I’m cumming!” 
The pleasure that tore through you was unbelievable and your breath caught in your lungs and your pussy gripped right up around him. George’s thrusts stalled for just a second as you tightened up so strongly around him that it was hard for him to move but he recovered quickly and kept fucking you right through your orgasm with hushed praised against your ear. 
You tore your hand from between your legs to join your other on the railing, gasping through the crisp night air as your legs quivered in your heels slightly, “Shit.”
“Good girl, good girl.” George took his hand from your throat to grab two hands of your hips to keep fucking into you, “Stay just like that.”
The feeling of him pulling out had you whimpering and the sound of his hand on his cock replaced it, jerking himself off in a few strokes before he was coming again, right across your ass and a little up your back. His moans were quiet but rich and full of life and your jaw fell slack at the sound like that was enough to finish you off again too. You gave him a little wiggle for emphasis as the warm splatters painted your skin until his hand was resting down against your waist and caressing your hip. 
“That was so good.” you admitted with a bashful smile, resting your face down on your arms that held you up against the railing. 
George leaned down over you and kissed your neck, “Glad you think so.”
“Are they still down there?” you asked in a whisper. 
He glanced over your shoulder down towards the park across the street before answering with a, “Doesn’t look like it.” 
You hummed flatly. He kissed between your shoulder blades. 
“Now what?” you asked. 
“I kinda wanna eat you out some more.” he confessed with his lips ghosting across your back. 
Your eyebrows raised as did your head and you tried to turn to look at him, “Really?”
“If you’re up for continuing what we have just started…unless you have to leave.” George said, leaving another fleeting kiss to your shoulder. 
“I’m all yours.” you answered giddily. 
“Okay,” his voice was smiling, “Then turn around.”
You obeyed and stood up straighter so you could turn to face him and right away his hand was sliding up the side of your neck and he was pulling you in for a kiss. Your hands rested against his torso that was only slightly exposed under his open button up and you greedily danced your fingertips down his abdomen and around to his waist to urge him closer. He smiled against your lips and then he was reaching down to grab you by the backs of your thighs and he hoisted you right off the ground. You shrieked in surprise and you shared laughter into your kisses as your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms around his shoulders and he carried you towards the balcony door. 
Despite the fact that you had already done plenty outside, your entire body felt giddy for more and his obvious desire to give you more was arousing in itself. George helped himself to the hotel room as you clung onto him and once the door was kicked shut behind him, he was dropping you backwards onto the king size bed just inside. Laying naked across the width of the neatly made bed that felt like you were draped across a cloud, you grinned up at him in the sparkling Eiffel Tower lights that leaked in from outside and from the addition of the warm bedside sconces. 
In nothing but that open button up shirt, George dropped to his knees at the side of the bed as if ready to whisper a prayer to you and his hands wrapped around your calves to yank you closer to the edge. With a lick to his lips, he stared down at your glistening pussy with how you were casually spread for him and he dragged two fingers right between your folds, lightly spreading you open for him to drop a thick string of spit right onto you. You were already plenty prepped but it was clear he liked it messy - not to mention the mess of his you were still smeared in over front and back - and you would never dream of complaining. You swore he could do anything to you in that moment and you would take it gladly. 
But at the same time, you were still quite sensitive from your escapades on the balcony so the first touch of his tongue on your pussy had your entire body flinching. He held your thighs back and licked right up from your ass to your clit in one strong solid stripe with his blue eyes finding yours as you gaped down at him from where you were resting back on your forearms against the bed. He licked his smirking lips and turned to leave a few slow wet kisses to your inner thigh before nipping teasingly at the skin and then soothing it with a lick. 
Then he was moving back in towards your pussy and he was lapping at it like a sweet kitten with his warm hands circling your thighs to hold you on his mouth. You whimpered to the ceiling as your head fell back and your fingers behind you grasped onto the tightly pulled duvet. You were just so sensitive that you tried to close up your legs and push yourself away from his mouth with pitchy moans that tumbled from your chest so freely. 
George wasn’t giving up without a fight and he shifted his hands around your thighs in exchange for his arms and he yanked you closer to the edge of the bed to keep you from squirming away, smothering his mouth right up against you and his tongue deep inside you. You gasped hard to the ceiling, nose scrunching up, and you dropped onto your back against the plush bed with a tight groan as your hand tangled in his hair. He ate you out like he had known your body his whole life, finding all the right places with his tongue while his nose brushed and nudged against your clit. 
“Oh s-shit-” you squeaked, desperately trying to push yourself away from his eager mouth with how sensitive you were, the intensity shooting up your spine in shockwaves. 
George pulled away from you with a wet slurp and another kiss to your thigh before he was instructing lowly, “Hold your ankles for me.” 
You easily followed his demands, taking your ankles in your gentle grasp and you wiggled your heels off your feet at the same time so they dropped to the carpeted floor dully. 
“Spread your legs as wide as you can for me and hold them there.”
George spoke like he knew what he was doing so you didn’t question it as you guided your legs out to the sides widely, held in place by your hands around your ankles. 
“Good girl.” he praised, running his hands up your hips and he gave them a gentle squeeze, “You’re such a good listener for me.” 
With his eyes on yours, he leaned back down towards your pussy and left a slow open mouthed kiss right over your clit, leading with his tongue, and you flinched at his ghostly touch. 
“Mm, do you wanna cum again for me, sweetheart?”
His voice was so buttery smooth, you could feel yourself pulse by only his words and he felt it too as his lips pricked into a smile and he took that - and your soft whine - as answer enough. George wrapped one arm around your thigh so he could dust the pad of his thumb over your clit in soft caresses while his tongue lapped at your leaking pussy. 
“Oh my God.” you groaned, tightening your hands around your ankles, “Keep that up and it won’t take me long.” 
“Mhm?” George smirked against you, turning his head slightly so he was almost resting his cheek on the dip of your thigh and your pelvis, still teasing his tongue along the slit of your cunt. Then his fingers were following and they were slicked up in his dripping spit and your warm arousal, sliding over your pussy and between your glistening lips and under his tongue and then he was slowly sinking two inside you. 
Your angelic “ahh” had him hushing you sweetly as he watched his two fingers sink deeper inside of you. His thumb pulled away from your clit and gave your doughy hip another tender squeeze as he praised you honestly, “Good girl, taking my fingers almost as good as you took my cock.”
You hummed in half appreciation, until his tongue was on your clit and you were gasping hard and arching against the bed. His hot breath on your wet skin was shiver worthy but the way his tongue dragged over your most sensitive spot had your eyes rolling. 
He started to thrust his fingers into you shallowly and as he did so, his tongue matched that pace on your clit. Your body rippled with pleasure again and you groaned loudly to the ceiling with your legs held wide for him until your hamstrings were aching. It was easy to hear how wet you were - and how wet he made you - with his fingers thrusting into you like that, nudging against your g-spot dead on with lewd squelches as you soaked his skin and dripped down his hand. His tongue flicked precisely over your clit in that same strong pace, desperate to please you as much as he could. 
You could feel that coil building inside you again and fast, and your chest heaved for breath as you struggled to keep yourself together. It was so much and so fast that you dropped your right hand from your ankle to tangle in his hair again to try and ease him up as you tossed your head back against the bed with a pleasured moan. 
Without that grip on your ankle, your leg naturally tried to close in to shut him out with the intense overwhelm. But George didn’t waste a second and, without faltering, he blindly reached out his left hand, grabbed your ankle, and shoved your leg back himself. Keeping you spread like that was just what he needed as his fingers and his tongue worked at that consistent pace that had you crying out loudly through the hotel room. He could feel you start to pulse around his fingers and he kept going even as his jaw was starting to ache slightly and your wetness was leaking down his hand. 
“Oh my God, I’m cumming!” you sobbed, gripping hard onto his hair as you felt the beginning of that pleasure wash over you fast. “Fuck, George!”
He moaned right up against you, keeping himself going even as you clenched and creamed around his fingers and you tugged at his hair, almost smothering him in your pussy that he took gladly with fingers and tongue. You shuttered through your strong orgasm, crying out his name breathily to the walls as your back arched off the bed and your legs trembled from where they were held wide open in mid-air. 
George pulled away from you with a wet slurp and he, too, was heaving for breath as he stood from the ground at the side of the bed. You lifted your hands up to run through your frazzled hair as your chest rose and fell quickly and you hid your grinning face in your palms. Your legs rested lazily down against the bed with only the slightest quiver to them as you came down from your orgasm. His hands ghosted over your knees and your shins and he stood between your legs almost proudly, staring down at your naked body laid out before him. 
“You sound so fucking beautiful when you’re so vocal like that for me.” George complimented honestly. 
“God, you don’t make it difficult.” you chuckled, finally removing your hands from your face to drop against the mattress above your head. 
“Can I fuck you again?” he asked. 
You bit back your grin in his direction, “Yes, please.” 
“Yeah?” he grinned right back as he finally pulled his collared shirt from his shoulders and dropped it to the ground alongside your heels, leaving him gloriously naked for your hungry eyes to devour. He was already hard again and you shamelessly were staring, naturally spreading your legs for him with that desire to be filled again. George tugged you a little closer to the edge of the bed and then propped his left foot up beside you so he could get nice and close. 
You stayed flat on your back as he dragged the head of his cock between your lips and your wide anticipatory eyes stared up at him lustfully, fingers twisting through the ends of your hair. Then he was pushing into you slowly, moving easier now with how much wetter he made you from your recent orgasms and the familiar size of him that your body had already taken once before. But it still pushed a tight stretch across your hips and you groaned to the ceiling, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as your hands grasped the sheets above your head. 
“Oh my God, you feel so fucking incredible.” you breathed. 
“Uh huh?” he set his hands on the backs of your thighs so your legs were pushed towards your chest and left you on perfect display for him to sink into as deep as he could go. Once his balls pressed against your ass, he was dropping his head forward with a breathy, “Motherfucker.”
With your pussy just teetering off the edge of the bed, you were in the perfect position for him to fuck you how he pleased although his first few strokes were slow and testing and he kept sinking into you with shaky sighs like you were a cup of tea after a long day. But he started to speed up as the seconds passed, as if his natural instinct started to take over, and soon he was thrusting into you properly in strong strokes. 
His foot that was propped up on the edge of the mattress allowed for a bit more leverage and he could get so much deeper that way, easily causing the hotel room to fill with that lewd wet smack of his skin colliding with yours again and again. You swore you could feel it in your stomach, letting him fuck the quiet breathy moans from your chest as your fingers tightened on the sheets above your head and you shut your eyes to focus on that pressure he pushed deep inside you with every snap of his hips. You dropped a hand down to press against your abdomen out of habit, desperate to feel more of him, and the way your palm added to that pressure made you whimper loudly as you stared up at him with a sweet pout. 
With each thrust, you could feel his cock nudge against your insides so strongly under your hand that it was hard to keep your eyes from rolling. You were fucking burning for it. Truly because of this, you had no choice but to reach both arms straight down to grip the edge of the mattress on either side of your body, needing something to hold onto. He wasn’t taking his eyes off yours, like he didn’t want to look at anything else for the rest of his life. Even when he wrapped his right hand around your throat and held your head down against the bed with just the right amount of pressure, he was staring dead into your eyes with his bottom lip between his teeth. He was so handsome that just the sight of his face staring at you like that had you fluttering around him.
You definitely weren’t going to be the first one to break your eye contact even as you struggled to keep yourself composed under his deep consistent strokes. Instead, you offered him the sweetest whimpers he had ever heard, the sounds falling from your pouted lips almost involuntarily at the thanks to his natural skills. The whole world fell away. 
Until he was pulling right out of you which felt like a sudden snap back to reality and you let go of the edge of the mattress to reach for him with a soft, “Give it back.”
“Turn over.” George ordered, licking away the cocky smile on his face that came from your gentle plea. “Hands and knees.”
“Oh my God.” you giggled and rolled over onto your stomach, “Yes, sir.” 
You got your knees under you and George’s hands were on your hips to adjust you where he needed you, pausing to give you a soft smack to your bum in the process. 
“You can slap me harder than that.” you encouraged. 
He tried again, getting a good spank across your ass as you were sitting back on your ankles and bent over at the waist, forearms holding you up on the bed. You looked back at him over your shoulder as he nudged the head of his cock against your pussy but you reached a hand back to grab his wrist, halting him. 
“Spank me like you fucking mean it.” you pressed strongly. 
Your demanding tone seemed to take him by surprise as he stared back at you with wide eyes for a fleeting moment before that arousing lust flashed across his face. He pulled his hand back and slapped it down hard against your ass, the sharp sound echoing through the hotel room and quickly followed by a squeal from you. 
“Yes!” you gasped, quickly cut off by another hit from his full palm, “Fuck, that’s more like it.”
“Holy fuck.” George chuckled lowly as he easily slipped his dick back inside you in one smooth motion and his hand held you down by the back of your neck, “You really don’t seem like such a fucking slut until your clothes come off, huh?” 
With your face held down against the mattress, you could only groan in reply and he gave you another hard spank with his free hand, already blushing a pink handprint against your skin, and right away he was picking up where he left off. You weren’t sure how he was so fucking good at turning you into putty in his hands but the way he fucked you kept your brain from doing too much thinking at all anyway. Your fingers bunched the sheets into your fists on either side of your head, the mattress capturing your moans into muffled sounds, and the hotel room welcomed the lewd clap of his skin against yours. 
George gave you another spank right across the ass before grabbing a snug handful of your flesh as he fucked you over the side of the bed, his balls slapping against your clit with every thrust and you couldn’t help yourself but spread your knees a little wider so you could feel more of it. You swore you were drooling into the sheets, toes curling, knuckles turning as white as the duvet, and you habitually tried to arch your back deeper for him. 
“Naughty girl.” he praised strongly, giving you another echo-worthy spank across your ass. “You just bend over so fucking easy for me, don’t you?”
“Uh huh.” you answered with your sounds muffled by the bed. 
When he took his hand from the back of your neck to hold your hips in both hands, you tossed your hair over one shoulder to stay resting with your chest against the bed, trying to peek back at him from the way you were bent over at the waist. It felt so good that you just wanted more and more and you ended up reaching back to grab your ass and spread yourself open for him to hit deeper. 
George slowed down a little in surprise of your action which only made you start to fuck yourself back onto his cock yourself with a desperate whine. He lifted one hand to slip his thumb in his mouth, praising you with a rich groan as he met your little motions with gentle short thrusts of his own, staying nice and deep inside you to keep that burning pressure across your hips. But then he was dropping his hand back down and swirling the moistened pad of his thumb around your asshole before slowly slipping it inside. 
The way your body tensed right up had him hushing you sweetly, even as you cried out his name breathily towards the bed and dropped your palms back down to grip the sheets. With his thumb hooked in your ass, he let his other hand come down hard against your cheek as he started to fuck you steadily. You stretched your arms out in front of you until your fingers could wrap around the opposite edge of the mattress and your forehead rested against the sheets between your arms, allowing you to let the pleasurable moans and gasps be fucked from your throat by his precise thrusts. 
You could only focus on the sounds he made in return; those handsome moans and panted breaths that expressed nothing but pleasure as he drove himself into you again and again. It drove you crazy in the best of ways and you silently prayed he never stop fucking you, raising your gaze to the ceiling as if you were really trying to speak to God. When he pulled his thumb out of your ass again and slapped his hand down hard across your blushing cheek, you didn’t hesitate to use His name in vain either. 
George’s hand in your hair started you and he yanked you right up from the mattress so you were on your knees and your back was to his chest. You barely got your surprised gasp out of your mouth before he was wrapping his hand around your throat and suddenly fucking you so hard that your breath completely froze in your chest for a second. Eyes rolling and head dropping back against his shoulder, you gripped his wrist around your throat with one hand while your other flailed through the air dumbly for a moment as you struggled to find something to grab onto. 
“Fuck!” you finally squeaked out, louder than the erotic clap of his skin against yours in time with his rapid thrusts. 
But only seconds later, he was stopping completely and you were gasping for breath and trying to fuck yourself back on him to get him going again. You could feel his smirk against your cheek and his hot breath on your neck as he asked you outright, “Are you gonna ride my cock like a good little slut now?”
“Yeah.” you exhaled dreamily, sliding your hand up the side of his neck and into the ends of his hair to pull his lips on yours over your shoulder. 
You shared a few sloppy kisses before he was gently pushing you forward and he pulled out of you. Shifting on the bed to let him join you, your hand found its way between your legs and you rubbed impatiently at your pussy and the sensitive ache he left behind. Beautifully naked, George sat himself on the bed and shuffled towards the middle so he could comfortably rest back against the plentiful down pillows in a mostly horizontal position. He patted his thigh and held out a hand to guide you over and you happily tossed a leg over his lap to straddle him.
You weren’t sure how it was possible for him to look even better but the way he stared back up at you while you were on top of him was nothing less than thrilling. George’s hands slid up your thighs and over your hips and you reached between you to angle his dick up against your leaking pussy, easily able to sink down on him until your ass met his thighs. You shared breathy sighs in response and your palms rested flat against his chest to anchor yourself. 
“Fuck, darling.” he groaned with a lick to his lips and his hands went roaming up your torso to grab your breasts, “Why didn’t you get on top of me sooner? Look at you.”
You chuckled bashfully and gently started to bounce on him from your knees. With the pleasure that tore through you, your eyes fluttered closed and a soft moan fell from your parted lips, savouring each inch of him so deep inside you. 
“God, I love your fucking dick.” you spilled out honestly. 
“Yeah?” his hands moved back down to squeeze your hips, holding them a little tighter so you were forced to stop your shallow bounces. “Back and forth for me, sweetheart. Grind on it.” 
You started to rut your hips forwards and backwards on him with your hands still resting on his chest to keep yourself steady, giving you ample room to rub your clit against his pelvis while the head of his cock nudged against your g-spot at the perfect angle. Mouth falling open with pleasure, you gaped down at him behind fluttering eyes. 
“Holy shit.” you exhaled. 
“Uh huh?” he kept your eye contact as his hands on your hips started to speed you up, almost yanking you back and forth on his lap himself, “Just like that?”
“F-Fuck!” you gasped, “Yeah!” 
“Yeah, keep going, baby, show me how good that feels.”
“So fucking good, George-” you whimpered, keeping those strong strokes going yourself even when he moved his hands away from your waist. The bed was squeaking underneath you with how hard you were taking it, riding him with all the power left in you until the headboard was starting to hit the wall in messy time. The noise had you hesitating for a moment, slowing down, nervous about the neighbours for a fleeting moment. 
George just grabbed your hips again and tugged you back into the motions, “Did I say stop?”
“No.” you whined, pressing your nails into his chest as he took you over again. 
“Faster. Ride it as hard as you can.” he ordered. 
His hands grabbed your breasts as you kept going on your own again, ignoring the bed hitting the drywall and instead focused on the tingling pleasure that tore through you. Your head fell backwards and you let out a moan to the ceiling, straining from your knees on either side of his lap as your sloppy pussy squelched with each stroke on his cock that filled you right up. 
“Good girl.” he praised, “Show me who owns this cock.”
“Me.” you breathed, flicking your hips stronger on him. 
“Yeah, show me that this is your fucking dick.” 
Your eyes were struggling to stay open and the intensity that grew quickly within you had your body shuttering for a moment and you stopped yourself with a quiver. 
George’s hand slapped down hard on your ass, repeating a strong, “Did I say stop?”
“No, sir.” you groaned, ignoring the ache in your thighs to keep yourself going again. 
“That’s it.” his eyes flickered between your face and your position on his lap, his hands starting to yank you back and forth again, “Keep going. Don’t fucking slow down.”
Your face was screwed up in concentrated pleasure, whimpering for him, “I’m gonna cum.”
“More.” he ordered through his teeth, “Gimme more.”
“Yes!” you squeaked, leaning farther forward on your hands against his shoulders with your nails digging into his muscle, hips rutting hard on his lap. “Yes, fuck!” 
A few more seconds and your eyes were blurring with tears from the strain on your legs and the pleasurable pressure building in the pit of your insides, chasing that orgasm desperately. The whole world started to fall away again as he took over your senses and you were forced onto a one track mind. 
Then suddenly, George’s hands tightened on your hips and he halted your movements, “Stop.” 
Your body shuttered with the sudden change after getting you so close and you whined loudly in protest. 
“Oh,” George chuckled lowly, “feel you fucking throbbing for me.”
“So close.” you whimpered, trying to start moving again but he held you firmly in place. 
“Where are your manners?” he pressed. 
“Please?” you exhaled, peering down at him longingly with a look of desperation you couldn’t bother to hide, “Please let me cum on your cock.”
George gave you another spank, “Keep going.” 
You sat back a little more to rest one hand on his thigh while keeping your other against his chest still and you gladly took his invitation to get back to those addicting grinds. Your hair tumbled out of your face as you tilted your head back slightly, letting the uncontrollable moans fall from your pouted lips. 
George’s hands on your hips kept yanking you back and forth some more and he spoke up to you strongly, “God, you look so fucking sexy when you ride me.”
“Feels so fucking good, I wanna cum for you so bad.” you cried. 
“Show me.” he ordered, letting go of your waist again to let you take over and do it yourself. 
The lust drove you crazy as if it were some sort of out of body experience and you rode him harder, faster, stronger, despite the ache of your thighs and the sweat across your skin. You were almost dizzy and the feverish whimpers and moans that spilled from your chest were certainly no help. George was staring up at you with his bottom lip captured between his teeth, such a handsome man so willing to just let you use him. 
His large hands then grabbed your wrists, pulling you away from steadying yourself on his body so it truly was only your hips doing all the work. His blue eyes focused on where you were connected, licking his lips as the sight of you rutting yourself on him so hard that the headboard was hitting the wall, not to mention the sound of your wet pussy taking him to just prove how badly you wanted him. His fingers around your wrists tightened as he held your hands out to the side to let your hips do the talking. 
“Just like that, gorgeous, good girl.” he praised loudly, “Fuck, you feel so good.” 
“I’m gonna cum.” you whimpered, hands bunching into fists from where he held them. “Shit, baby, I’m gonna fucking cum!” 
George stayed quiet minus his few pleasurable sounds of his own, letting you draw yourself closer on his lap second by second. But then, just as you were tensing up, he shoved your hands aside and grabbed your hips hard, “Stop.” 
“Oh!” you shrieked at the sudden halt again, your body trying to bounce on him to make up for it but you ended up just rolling right off his lap, your legs trembling. Your knees curled towards your chest and your ankles linked together with your hand between your legs to try and ease the throbbing ache that pulsed through your cunt. With a shaky voice, you cried out a weak, “Fuck you.”
George just chuckled lowly and turned over after you, reaching above your head to grab the pillows and toss them to the floor to give you both free reign of the entire bed. His strong arms held him up on either side of you and he leaned down to kiss your neck wetly. You rolled over underneath him onto your right side, wrapping a hand around his forearm as your body trembled from being edged by him and you sunk your teeth gently into his flesh to muffle your displeased moans. 
“Such a whiny little cockslut.” George spoke against your ear before nipping at your earlobe, “Just wants to cum so fucking bad.”
You hummed in agreement just as he sat back from you on his knees and he straddled one of your legs with the other still curled up towards your chest. Your pussy was on clear display for him this way, glistening wet in the nighttime light of the city that streaked in from the open balcony curtains, and he dragged the slick head of his cock through it before sinking inside you again. Your mouth fell open with a hearty moan, eyes fluttering shut, and your hand tightened around his forearm. 
“Look at me.” George instructed as he took his hand from the mattress and, instead, pushed his index finger into your mouth. 
You turned your head slightly to open your eyes again and look at him over top of you just as he thrusted hard into you, making you moan around his finger. 
“Good girl. You’re doing so well.” he praised as he started to thrust into you consistently, “Such a good fucking girl for me.”
You were a mess of noises and you sucked and drooled around his finger without thought, gladly accepting his cock inside you powerfully over and over again. One of your hands reached down to tug at the flesh of your ass to try and open yourself up for him at your 90-degree angle of your hips, wanting to feel every inch of him entirely through you. 
“You tell me if it’s too much, okay?” he reminded you seriously. 
Pulling off his finger, you cried in protest, “It’s not enough!”
“More?” he asked. 
“Yes.” you pleaded, wrapping your hands around his forearms on either side of you. 
He fucked you harder into the bed, forcing that hot pressure to be felt deep inside you and you swore you could feel him in your stomach. You had never thought it was realistic for ones eyes to roll from pleasure but there you were, gaping to the ceiling with your eyes fucking rolling for him from the euphoria that rose a sheen sweat across your bare skin. 
“Yes, yes, yes, yes-” you chanted heartily. 
“Mhm?” George reached a hand up to the top of the upholstered headboard, giving himself more leverage to thrust into you, while his other grabbed your thigh and pushed your leg closer to your chest to spread you open wider. 
“Oh, fuck!” you squeaked, habitually turning your face away from him and into the sheets instead to muffle your overwhelming moans as your fingers clutched the linens. It was almost as if you were trying to claw yourself away from him, torn between wanting more and being overwhelmed with the intensity of it all. 
George put you right back in your place with a hand around your throat, pinning you back down against the mattress so you were staring up at him and his peaked brows as he ordered, “Look at me.”
“I’m-” you shuttered, “so close-”
“Look at me when you cum.” he demanded, tightening his hand around your throat, “Don’t fucking look away from me.” 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck-” you squeaked, your nose scrunching up with how quickly he was getting you there again. You pleaded with him without tearing your eyes away from his, “Please can I cum?”
“Yeah, cum for me, baby. Squeeze my cock and cum all over me.” 
You tried to keep his eye contact but as your body tensed up and the pleasure had your ears ringing, you had no choice but to scrunch your eyes shut as your head arched from the bed and your broken cry was expressed to the ceiling. George groaned lowly as you squeezed right around him when you came, creaming all over his cock as you shuttered underneath him, and in seconds he was pulling out of you. 
He shoved your leg to the side so you were flat on your back and spread properly for him and his hand took to his cock himself, stroking himself off in quick flicks of his wrist right over top of you. You just stared up at him with mouth parted in near awe at how he sparkled in the city lights through the window under that handsome sheen of sweat across his toned body. And his moans were something else, so erotic and angelic that you could have listened to him until the end of time, and you reached down to help him with your gentle hand. Only a few more pumps and he was coming right up your stomach with a broken groan and an extra little squeeze of your hand around the swollen head, pulling more pretty streaks of white out of him to paint your stomach and your pelvis in his essence. 
“Holy fuck.” you breathed, sliding your hand up his abs and his chest as he leaned down to kiss your lips. You shared a few hot breathless kisses before he was leaving one more to your collarbone and another between your breasts and then he was settling between your legs and guiding them up towards your chest. Your fingers raked through his hair with a gentle warning, “My God, George-”
His mouth was on your clit again in a fleeting moment, making your whole body jolt in sensitivity, but he held you securely on his mouth even as your strained moans reached all four walls of the hotel room. You were gaping dumbly to the ceiling as your arms straightened completely with your fingers tangled in his hair as if wanting to get him away from you, back arching off the bed and toes curling in mid air. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you squealed, only getting louder and pitchier as he sucked on your clit. 
George smothered himself in your pussy with his fingers pressing indentations into your thighs, taking you over with his tongue like you were his last meal. You were so sensitive too that it was hard to keep still and you were gasping and whining to the hot air of the hotel room, tugging at his hair until he was groaning up against you. 
“Christ.” he huffed as he pulled away from you with a filthy slurp, “You taste fucking incredible.”
You barely had a second to catch your breath before his fingers were gliding between your lips and shoving back inside your snug cunt, taking him in gladly. He stared at your body taking him in with all the lust in the world, you swore, and his teeth captured his bottom lip in near concentration as he fingered you possessively in precise purposeful thrusts. It was obvious how aroused you were by the squishy wet sound of his fingers inside you and it made him just have to lean back down to lap at your clit again. 
“Oh my God.” you said through your teeth, dropping your head back against the bed with your eyes screwed shut. 
“Too much?” he asked you as he pulled away from your pussy again, keeping his fingers going. 
“Little.” you confessed shakily. 
“Want me to stop?”
“No.”
The insistence behind your reply made him chuckle lowly and with his two fingers still knuckle deep inside you, he shifted between your legs to rest a bit more at your side. You took that brief moment to breathe and your hands pushed your tangled hair out of your face before resting on the mattress on either side of your head. Nude and spread for him, you let him do as he pleased to you in the nakedness of his own, loving how he took you over like he had known you for your whole life…like you were his to play with. And the way he so obviously loved to bring you pleasure was insanely attractive. 
Once situated slightly to your right and facing your body, George’s fingers were starting to curl up against that soft squishy spot inside you while his left hand raised to his mouth to suck on two more fingers. You gently grasped the fitted sheet under your head, lip captured by your teeth, staring up at him with blown wide eyes that held the expression that made him want to ruin you. He pulled his fingers from his mouth and set them down gently against your swollen clit, hushing you sweetly as your body jumped under his tender touch. 
“That’s my good girl.” he whispered, finding a matching pace with his two hands - one inside you and one out. 
You succumbed to him so easily, the soft moans tumbling from your bitten lip as you stared at him, still covered in his cum like he owned you. And honestly, it felt like he truly did. Every single touch he offered you felt like pure electricity, complete erotic bliss filling your senses all over again. 
“Feels so fucking good.” you exhaled, eyes focused on his face. 
“Uh huh?” George tore his eyes away from your pussy to meet your gaze, allowing his fingers to move a little faster; one rubbing at your clit and the other reaching that perfect spot inside you. “Think you wanna cum for me again?” 
“Yeah.” you exhaled. “You make me cum so fucking hard.”
“Mhm.” he licked away his smirk and looked back down to his task at hand, “And you take it so well, gorgeous.” 
He kept those consistent shallow curls of his two fingers inside you, caressing your g-spot right on until your breaths were falling shallower again. Your head arched back against the mattress with a small groan, your legs struggling to keep themselves open, and you grasped tighter onto the fitted sheet. George hummed in appreciation for how easily you took it and he shifted again at your side to rise up a little onto his knees for a new angle, removing his hand from your clit to hold your leg closest to him to the side. Then, with his occupied arm perfectly straight, he could really work those precise curls of his fingers against your g-spot in harder upwards jabs. 
“O-Oh-” you gasped shakily, dropping a hand down out of natural habit to try and lessen the intense feeling but you stopped yourself at your stomach, your hand haphazardly swiping through the mess of cum that was still streaked across your sweaty skin. Your middle finger inched to your clit where you rubbed yourself a little as if he needed any help. 
George’s jaw was clenched with how seriously he was taking it, fingering you strongly until his bicep was bulging and your thighs were trembling with the quick onset of pleasure. The heat was rising across your body again with the blood rushing to your ears until you swore you could hear ringing but the pressure that was building in the depths of your stomach took the cake. It felt tingly and dangerous and you tried to slide your hand down to cover yourself. 
“I have to pee-” you whimpered, as if in a futile attempt to stop him, barely heard over the ridiculously wet sound of your pussy. 
“Feels like it, huh?” he taunted strongly with his fingers still engraving him into that precious spot inside you with the power of his entire arm, “Give into that for me, darling.”
“I don’t-” your body shuttered, “I’m-”
“Cum for me, gorgeous. Don’t hold anything back.”
Your moans only grew pitchier and pitchier until you were literally squealing to the ceiling and your hands were flying out to grab onto his thigh and the duvet. The pleasure was insane until the whole world fell away and your vision went spotted for a second followed by a rush of relief. You cried out for him loudly as the first trickle slipped out of you and he was pulling his fingers out to let you squirt all over the bed and him. 
“Good girl.” he praised loudly through his teeth before shoving his fingers back inside you to keep you going through your orgasm. “That’s my good girl! Make a fucking mess for me, baby.” 
Your thighs curled up towards your body until you were nearly squeezing him out with broken pleasured sobs falling from your chest, grabbing his wrist between your legs to try and get him out of you as the pleasure tapered off. Writhing against the dampened sheets, you were soaked in sweat, cum, and your own liquids, and even the ghost of his breath on your skin had your whole body flinching with sensitivity. 
“That’s enough.” you panted, leaving your hand around his wrist even as he pulled it out of you. “Holy shit, I almost blacked out.”
“You okay?” George chuckled and shifted down beside you, laying half on top of you as he brushed your hair out of your face and let his eyes scan your features. 
“Yeah.” you lifted your head up to look down your body at your quivering legs and the mess of wetness you left behind across the perfect white sheets. “Fuck, I’ve never squirted before.”
George smiled proudly against your cheek and kissed the corner of your mouth, “My pleasure.” 
You slid your fingers into the back of his hair and guided his lips to yours, sharing a few sloppy breathless kisses before his head was resting against your shoulder with a content sigh. His arm laid heavy around your middle and even laying together in the nude, the air conditioning of the hotel room didn’t do much to cool your sweaty bodies. 
“I think I need some water.” you whispered. 
George was moving away from you and got off the bed right away, “I got it.”
He disappeared just around the corner to the small built in bar where he grabbed two glasses and then filled them in the bathroom sink. When he returned, your eyes couldn’t help but soak him up in his glorious nakedness in the moonlight and by the warmth of the bedside sconces. Never have you known a man so handsome and perfect that it made your heart skip a beat even when he wasn’t necessarily doing anything to justify your lust. But maybe it was those rose-coloured glasses talking since he had just given you the most erotic and pleasurable night of your entire life. 
The water glass felt heavy in your hands but you took it from him with thanks and you sat yourself up slightly before sipping the water with relief, not realizing how thirsty you were until that moment. George settled himself onto the bed beside you and leaned back against the upholstered headboard with a sigh and a drink from his own glass. It was almost surprising how quickly you downed your drink and soon you were setting the empty glass on the bedside table before turning to face him. 
With those pleasure hormones still swirling through your brain and your bloodstream, you just wanted to get closer and you slid your hand up his bare chest and around the side of his neck as your lips met his smooth jaw for a lingering kiss. George smiled and rubbed your thigh before gently guiding your leg over his just to keep your body as close as possible to his. Your sweaty skin stuck together faintly as if to remind you how you felt as one that night.
He turned his head to you slightly, nudging your cheek with his nose to silently urge your face towards his so your lips could meet in a slow sensual kiss. You lingered there for a moment together, motionless, lips locked, breathless and sweaty, until he was pulling away gently. He licked his lips habitually and seemed to inhale you contentedly with his eyes half closed in pure peaceful bliss. The moment of silence lingered between you as if the reality of your situation was starting to settle and yet your minds swirled with thoughts surrounding nothing but each other. 
Your hand on the side of his neck guided his lips back to yours and he leaned into you gladly, sharing in your dreamy kisses that had your insides curling with lust after he had given you the absolute most. It was crazy and unheard of to be so greedy, but he was a drug to you and you only craved him more. You exchanged slow open mouthed kisses that could pass as nothing but chasté if it weren’t for the setting and the circumstance you found yourselves in. The taste of his lips was addicting and the fact that the reminisce of your own arousal still clung to him and teased your senses as you dragged your tongue along his bottom lip was dizzying. 
George pulled away from you long enough to reach past you and set his empty water glass on the bedside table beside your own before he was licking away his smile and guiding you in by the chin to kiss you some more. Without the barrier of water glasses or clothes, you embraced each other urgently in warm arms and sweet kisses, sharing breaths as one amidst your dance of lips and tongues. And, with a sudden influx of bravery that coursed through you, you shifted at his side and tossed your leg over his thighs to straddle his lap. 
His hands guided you gladly, letting you sit rightfully on his lap as his tongue helped itself into your mouth and against your own while your fingers were tangled in his hair to pull him impossibly closer. Your body arched into his as if needing to feel every inch of his skin against yours and his hands on your waist wrapped tighter around you until your chest was flush against his. It was as if the previous escapades were forgotten about as the fire that burned between you was stronger than ever and you could start to feel his dick hardening underneath you and you ground down on him faintly to feel more of it. 
George’s soft groan tasted heavenly and you sucked on his tongue for a moment before pulling out of his kiss and dragging your hands down his shoulders and his chest. His fingers caressed your hips and along your spine and you stared at each other for a moment as you let the feeling of your body heat lure your hearts closer. But then he was leaning in again and capturing your lips in another feverish kiss that had you giggling into his mouth, your hands holding his face in your palms. 
Between his insistent kisses, you pleaded with him sweetly, “Please can you fuck me again?”
“Again?” he chuckled lowly as he broke your kiss, brushing his nose across your cheek as you held onto each other. “Blimey, has no one ever fucked you properly before? Never had a man as generous as me?”
“No.” you replied easily, ready and willing to butter him up to get that reward you craved. 
“Mhm?” he shifted underneath you without breaking your eye contact, turning you both over so you could be laid down on the bed again while he taunted you lustfully, “Or are you just that much of a slut that you just can’t get enough dick?”
“I’m your slut.” you answered with a giddy grin that you tried to bite back, pulling him down by your hand at the back of his neck to get his lips on yours again. 
His body rested heavily on top of you and your ankles tucked behind his calves to hold him close, slinging your arm around his back with your nails pressing greedily into the toned muscle of his shoulders. He spoke into your mouth with his lips brushing yours, his voice low and rich, “You’re fucking crazy and I can’t get enough of you.” 
“Fuck me.” you begged strongly. 
George pushed himself away from you long enough to grab your thighs and shove them up towards your chest so when he leaned back down over top of you, your ankles were resting against his shoulders. He licked his fingers and then dropped that hand down between your legs to smear across your soaked pussy before the head of his cock was taking its place. His eyes met yours, “You sure you can take more?”
You nodded, “Yes, please.”
He took your words as truth and then slowly pushed his stiffening cock inside you, catching himself with flat hands against the mattress on either side of your head and his eyes locked on yours. You held onto the side of his neck with your legs stretched messily up to his shoulders until your thighs burned just as much as your insides but you’d never dream of stopping him. 
You were so achingly sensitive and growing sore from your long night but you had missed the feeling of being filled by him until you were stretched out around the girth of his cock, mouthing to no one in particular, “Oh my God.” 
George’s lips were on yours again in an instant and you moaned happily into his sloppy kiss as he started to grind deeper into you. You clung onto him warmly and when you couldn’t get him close enough, he let your legs move from his shoulders to around his waist. That also gave him a bit more freedom of movement and he ducked his face in your neck as he started to thrust into you properly. 
Gasping into the hot air of the Parisian hotel room, you let your nails press into his back as he fucked you for the nth time that evening and it still felt just as gloriously good as the first time. He was still growing harder inside you until every thrust was delivered with strong curling precision that had your eyes rolling. 
“Holy fuck,” you whimpered, “How are you still so fucking hard?” 
George’s low chuckle fell against your neck and he shifted a little bit closer to you to thrust harder into your sopping cunt, “You don’t make it difficult.” 
You meant to smile but the growing intensity of his dick pistoning inside you had your face fluttering with waves of intense pleasure that teetered on the border of pain with thanks to how sensitive you were by then. You were trying to keep your breath steady but he had a way of fucking the air from your lungs until you were holding your breath to try and feel every ounce of pleasure from him as well as holding yourself back from the pressure of his cock nudging against your cervix. 
“Harder.” you pleaded to him. “Fuck me harder.”
“Naughty girl.” he pushed away from you slightly to get his hand around your throat again.
He pinned you down against the mattress that way with the perfect squeeze and your hands clutched onto his biceps as you peered up at him above you. He was getting rough with it again and those pretty moans found their way past your lips once more, blessing the hotel room alongside the rhythmic sound of the headboard starting to hit the wall. Your eyes were rolling for him, jaw clenched, your body tense with steadily rising pleasure. 
“Don’t pass out on me.” he warned seriously with only a hint of teasing to his tone. 
“Mm mm.” you shook your head faintly with your eyes scrunching shut. Your hands slid up his biceps to grip his shoulders, pulling him closer the best you could. 
“Want me like this?” he asked as he lowered himself on top of you again, staying perfectly close with your legs around his waist so his every thrust hit as deep as possible. 
“Mhm, fuck.” you whimpered, tangling one hand in the back of his hair and dragging the other across his back. 
“You feel so damn good.” he exhaled against your cheek, breathless from the effort he was putting into you. “So fucking perfect I never wanna pull out.”
“Don’t.” you held onto him tighter. “Don’t fucking stop.” 
The way he fucked you into the cloud-like king size bed had you swearing it was all a dream, far too good to be true. He fit inside you so perfectly that you swore your bodies were made for each other, entangled as one, just like it was meant to be. You hardly knew him but you were so attached - a connection stemmed from shared pleasure and the most intimate moments of human nature. 
George wasn’t going to last much longer after the extensive night you had already shared and proof of that was only shown in the way his hips shoved sloppier against yours like he was chasing something hungrily, his arms around your head and his face in your neck. He was all over you. The erotic creak of the mattress underneath you made shivers tear up your arms as if in reminder of how well he treated you body, how he made you moan and writhe and sweat like you never knew possible. So many firsts given to this handsome stranger.
You couldn’t help yourself but want more. 
The words left your mouth in a soft tremble as he fucked you into the duvet, “You know something else I’ve never had?”
“What’s that, my love?” he replied breathily against your jaw without missing a beat. 
“I’ve never had someone cum inside me.”
George groaned and slumped his forehead onto your shoulder, “Fuck, darling-” 
“Please cum inside me.” the urgency made your heart race and you linked your ankles together behind his back as if physically trying to convince him.
“I-”
“Please? I wanna feel you cum so fucking deep inside me. Wanna feel your perfect fucking cock throbbing inside me while you fill me up.”
Despite your startling pleas, he didn’t stop fucking you as if driven by a desire outside of himself, even if his words tried to argue gently in reply, “That’s so fucking dangerous, baby.”
“Show me I’m yours.” you ignored him, dragging your nails across his back, “Please cum with me.” 
“Shit, are you sure?” 
“Yes. Please, sir.” 
“Oh my God.” he groaned through his teeth, wrapping himself in you as you shared the journey to that blissful conclusion. 
It wasn’t difficult for you to get there either as your previous escapades had left you terribly sensitive and the warm pressure that he pushed into the depths of your body with every sharp thrust was building that sensation inside you. You held onto him tightly, bodies moving as one, breaths shared, the hotel bed housing your desperate sloppy one night stand that was unlike anything else you had ever experienced. 
“Fuck, please don’t stop.” you squeaked out, fingers pressing into his back and raking your nails across his skin, “You’re gonna make me cum again!” 
“That’s my good girl. Fucking cum with me.” 
“Don’t pull out.”
“Won’t.” 
“Please.”
“Fuck-”
It was the first wave of your orgasm that sent him over the edge himself, that first grip of your pussy around his aching dick that shot pleasure up his spine until he was shuttering in your arms and moaning into your neck. You clung onto him tightly, sinking your teeth into his shoulder as if trying to keep yourself quiet as you squealed and cried out through your uncountable orgasm of the night. But the feeling of him coming inside you was even better than the dopamine hit and your heels pressed into his bum to tug him as deep as possible, whimpering against his cheek as he filled you with thick warm spurts. 
“Fuck.” you squeaked, barely heard over his own euphoric groans as his sharp thrusts died down into curling grinds to really make the most of it, giving you every last drop. You whimpered his name against his ear and his lips found yours blindly in an off-centered kiss that was more tongue than grace. You held his face in your trembling hands and he let his entire body weight rest on top of you for a moment as you shared a few more breathless kisses. 
“Well,” he exhaled out of your kiss, “What happens in Paris…” 
You let out a soft giggle and he carefully shifted away from you so he was sitting back on his knees before slowly pulling out. Your hand reached down to take his place, sliding your fingers along your slick pussy and just inside, feeling how wet you were thanks to the both of you. And as your muscles clenched and released from the ending of your orgasm, his cum was starting to be pushed out of you and you gladly let it drip onto your fingers. 
“Holy fuck, it feels so good.” you breathed, lifting your head up to look down your body to where your hand was positioned between your legs. 
George just smirked proudly down at you, gently caressing your quivering thighs with his fingertips as he watched you lazily play with yourself. He spoke to you softly, “Can I get you water and a towel?” 
His manners had you smiling up at him and you nodded, “Yes, please.” 
“Okay,” he patted your thigh, “be right back.”
He took your empty glasses from the bedside table and disappeared around the corner into the bathroom again, leaving you for a moment alone on the king size bed. Your fingers fell to a stop between your legs just coated in his cum while your head lolled to the side slightly to peer out the balcony windows to see the glittering Eiffel Tower in the near distance. It was such a dream. 
George returned to you shortly and joined you back in bed with your water and a towel. You took the towel first and shuffled it underneath you before using the edge to mop up the worst of what spilled back out of you; even if it was all too late for the duvet to be spared. The two of you then shared in the silence and the appreciated hydration, side by side. You were utterly exhausted and your head rested against his shoulder even as you slowly sipped your water and his hand rubbed innocent circles on your bare thigh. 
“Was this all okay for you?” he asked after a few moments. 
“Yeah,” you said, “It was so perfect.”
“Perfect?” he chuckled. 
“Mhm.” you wrapped your hand around his bicep to hold him close, “I swear to God, I’m gonna remember this night for the rest of my life.”
He kissed your head, “Me too.”
“I should clean myself up a little.” you shifted away from him and sat up a little straighter, glancing down at yourself and the mess of the night that was left behind between hand prints, hickeys, and drying ribbons of cum across various body parts. George let you go. 
While you took to the bathroom on wobbly legs to do your business and wipe yourself down with a cool damp cloth, George tidied up the hotel room and brought in your clothes and your drinks from the balcony. By the time everything was arranged and you were cleaned up, you emerged from the bathroom in your shy nakedness as he was putting the half empty bottle of champagne in its bucket of melted ice on the mini bar. He had the modesty of underwear by then after having snagged it from where his briefs had been discarded on the balcony earlier in your evening plans but he was unbothered by the vast expanse of your body and his hand inched around your waist to lead you closer. 
“You okay?” he asked, his thumb caressing the small of your back. 
“Yeah. I’m just really tired. I should call a cab.” you whispered. 
“Stay.” he offered, “I don’t want you navigating the city this late and this exhausted.”
“You sure?” 
“Yeah. Of course, I’m sure. I’d love it if you stayed.”
A small smile dusted over the corner of your lips, “Okay. Thank you.”
You both leaned in at the same time for a fleeting kiss before you were slipping past him and farther into the hotel room. He directed you to your clothes that were draped on the lounge chair in the corner and you followed his lead to just pull your underwear on and nothing else. The concept of spending the night with him was almost just as thrilling as the concept of hooking up with him as the promise of feeling his skin against yours made your heart race. 
“What time is your flight tomorrow?” he asked as you climbed under the heavy and well used duvet. 
“Noon.” you sighed, “And I still have to stop by my hotel to grab my things.”
“That’s not bad.” 
He joined you in the bed like he had been doing it every day of his life and you naturally shifted closer to each other under the sheets. Even though he was a stranger, you felt so safe with him and with his arms around you, sleep seemed to take you over all too easily, lulled by the sound of his heartbeat without another word spoken.
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You had fallen asleep with the curtains open so as morning rose, the bright light woke you naturally. Blinking away the faint headache from your alcohol infused night, you tried to place your surroundings and orient your dizzy brain properly. George’s arm tossed around your waist  brought you back to reality with ease and you smiled faintly at the memories that flooded your conscience. He was sprawled on his stomach and snoring faintly, his body tucked right up beside yours, and for a second, you just stared at him. His bare back was exposed under the slipping white sheets and you gently traced the red scratches you had left him as a souvenir across his caramel skin. 
The stiffness in your limbs was obvious and you soon had to shift and stretch, ultimately jostling him enough to rouse him slightly. He sighed heavily and reached a hand up to rub his eyes and his face as he rolled onto his back. 
“Sorry.” you whispered. 
“S’okay.” he mumbled, his voice deep and rich with lingering sleep. 
It made your heart flutter.
Laying on his back now, he draped an arm above his head and tousled his fingers through his messy hair, blinking his eyes open to look at you through the unpleasant morning light that had just started to peek over the horizon. He held his arm out again despite you shifting and invited you in, “C’mere.” 
You licked away your smile and shuffled closer to him so you could melt into his side with his arm around your shoulder. Laying together in that heavenly bed, you shared in the view of the Eiffel Tower blessed by the morning sun as it rose into the sky of pinks and oranges with teasing hints of brilliant blue. With his arm that wasn’t around your shoulders, George's hand found yours over the sheets that kept you decent, tracing your fingers with his and then intertwining them tenderly. For the uncountable time since meeting him, you silently swore that this was heaven. 
“You hungry?” he asked after a few long minutes of serenity. 
“Yeah,” you exhaled, not having thought about it until that moment, “starving, actually.”
George took his arm from around your shoulders and he leaned across the bed to his night stand where the hotel phone was. In a tangle of sheets, he lifted the receiver and dialed the front desk to order you both a huge breakfast spread from room service. As he did so, you greedily reached out to brush a hand through his messy brunette hair and down his muscular back, watching how you drew goosebumps in your wake. 
While your food was prepared, the two of you watched the Parisian sunrise in bed together, sharing kisses and caresses and perfect silence like this was your shared romantic vacation. For a fleeting moment, you had convinced yourself that maybe it was. 
George’s finger trailed down your neck to the hickey that stained your skin and he tapped it gently, “Airport security is gonna give you some weird looks.”
You hide your bashful smile into his shoulder, “We made some bad decisions last night.”
“I think we made great decisions.” he countered.
“Mm, yeah.” you agreed easily, “They were pretty great, huh?”
“You sore?”
“Quite. But in a good way.”
His hand captured your jaw and gently guided your lips to his for a few lingering kisses. 
When you pulled away and rested your palm against his bare chest, you confessed quietly, “I still can’t get over how you knew just how I liked it without me needing to tell you.”
“All in your body language, baby.” he replied modestly as your eyes met, “You’re so easy to read.”
“You’re such a gentleman.”
You both leaned in at the same time for more kisses, smiling into each other’s mouths. 
Room service came shortly after and George got out of bed to let the bellboy in with the rolling table filled with French breakfast, even if he was only in his underwear. He made sure to tip the young man and your eyes lingered on the €50 bill he passed over like it was nothing alongside his thanks. You sat in the middle of the cloud-like bed in a pool of sheets and George shifted all the plates onto the duvet so you could share your feast together in bed. 
Crepes and waffles and fresh fruit and sausages and mimosas felt never-ending but you swore it was the most delicious meal you had since arriving in Paris - but maybe it was your company and your well expected hunger that just made it feel so much more rewarding. The view of the Eiffel Tower certainly wasn’t anything to complain about either. 
With plates emptied and appetites fulfilled, you lounged back together against the headboard, cuddled up close. Your eyes were closed peacefully with your heads leaning together and George’s gentle touches to your arm with the back of his finger felt homely. You knew you had a plane to catch but it was the last thing you wanted to do. 
“Kinda don’t wanna get outta bed.” you confessed quietly. 
“Mm,” George agreed, “me neither.”
“Could stay here forever.”
“Me too.”
A pause. 
“Thank you for last night.” you said. 
“Thank you for last night.”
“Lots of firsts.”
George chuckled faintly, “Oh, yes.”
You shared peaceful breathy laughter and he turned his head to kiss your temple and then your cheek and then you let him kiss your lips. 
“You have a plane to catch.” he reminded you. 
A sad smile came to your lips and you replied with a barely audible, “I know.”
With another kiss and no complaint, you tore yourself out of his arms and out of his bed and walked across the carpeted floor to your clothes. He watched you dress from the bed with fondness in his features and you ignored the pit in your stomach that grew with your fast approaching parting. When you were dressed and ready to go, you turned to him. 
“Now what?” you asked. 
George slid out of bed to join you with that handsome smile of his, “Now what, what?”
“I’ve never…done this before so I don’t know the proper protocol for leaving.” you rambled. 
“You just kiss me goodbye.” he shrugged, guiding you closer by your hands. 
Part of you wanted to tell him that you didn’t want to say goodbye but your mouth abandoned you. So you kissed him once more, lingering on those heavenly plush lips of his, before time was pulling you apart. 
“You’re gonna make some guy into the absolute luckiest bastard on this planet some day.” George said like it was what you needed to hear. 
You gave his hands a squeeze, and let your gaze linger on his face as if trying to memorize the man you had no pictures of. 
“Good bye, George.” you breathed. 
He let your hands slip out of his, “Till we meet again, my love.”
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thebibliosphere · 3 months
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Hi! How are you doing? Sorry to bother you, but i dont know many scottish people and idk who to talk to about this book I found on audible. It's called Imogène, by french author Charles Exbrayat. Do you know him /the book? I've started reading it but I had to pause because, while being sold as a "humorous spy story" I find the protagonist, a "very proudly scottish" woman, to be... an offensive caricature? Like she acts like a fool, honestly. This book contains some interesting points about sexism (it was published in 1959), and ridiculous british habits (such as employees forced to give money for princess anna's birthday or being socially scorned). I'm sure the shared dislike / distrust the protagonist and her british colleagues feel are (were?) realistic. But she is so extra, and the story keeps telling how lonely she is, even after working 20 years in london. She has No friends, most acquitances dont talk to her for various motivations, her bosses hates her ... idk I feel this book is actually mocking scottish people? Or scottish women??? I was SO there for a "strong woman protagonist who gives cutting remarks to her boss or peers", but this looks wrong. Idk. I didnt know whom ask for inputs. Maybe i'm reading too much into it. Feel free to ignore this mega rant. Have a good day!
I think cultural and historical context and time of publication-- which was almost 70 years ago --are important factors to take into consideration when we look at fiction through our current expectations.
I can’t speak to the book as I’ve never read it, but speaking as a Scots woman who worked for an English publishing house for a while, being made to feel alienated by my boss and others due to being Scottish was unfortunately still something going on in 2011.
I’d get lots of “Oh but you sound so eloquent” remarks regarding my thinned-out accent (something I did on purpose to avoid being told to “speak properly” which was also something I heard a lot in school if I ever used my native Scots language instead of “Queen’s English.”) and one time my boss referred to me as “their civilized Scot” to an American author, whose Scottish romance book I was supposed to be fixing the dialogue on.
The phrasing was along the lines of, “Don’t worry, you’ll be able to understand her. Joy is our civilized Scot.”
The author laughed and made another derogatory comment about how they just loved Scottish accents even if it was unintelligible a lot of the time. I kept my mouth shut because I didn't want to lose my first career job.
I kept my mouth shut a lot in that job.
In that regard I could very well empathize with the character being lonely and not engaging with anyone, even after 20 years.
The proud Scottish woman can be a bit of a caricature, but that doesn't necessarily mean it is intended as mocking.
Again, cultural/historical context matters.
I wasn’t alive in 1959, but I know there was a lot of Scottish media about the time that leaned into the stubbornness and pride of Scots women both for humor and to make societal commentary on the fact that women were strong and more independent than they’d ever been following two world two and a lot of men weren’t happy about it and wanted them to go back into their boxes. As a result the mouthy, proud Scots woman became a mockable caricature that turned women into shrill, over proud scolds.
Get back in your box or we’ll make fun of you, basically.
So is this book being mocking, or is it employing popular tropes of the time, knowing that audience will understand what it means and that the female protagonist is being subversive despite what others expect from her?
I can’t say. Again, haven’t read it. It could be utter dogshit and making total fun of my culture. But I do think when looking at older media we need to put our thinking caps on and think, “How would the audience of the time, 1959, have viewed and engaged with this?”
Expecting a “strong female protagonist” as we know it from media today isn’t going to work with media that’s almost 70 years old.
Hell, the “strong woman protagonist” wasn’t even something any piece of media could agree on when I was growing up in the 90s.
Times change. Literary tropes and preferences change. It helps to keep that in mind.
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radkindoffeminist · 2 years
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Things I really want TRAs to get through their fucking skulls.
B*tch, c*nt, and wh*re are misogynistic slurs. This isn’t something I am ever going to debate. These are derogatory terms used specifically against women and using them against women doesn’t make them less of a slur. Using them because ‘in some places c*nt isn’t a slur’ doesn’t make them less of a slur. Also, I’m literally fucking British and have lived in Scotland for some years now so before you start with the whole ‘but in some places it’s completely normalised and used commonly’: it’s not. I have heard some men use it to insult their friends, but it’s not thrown around constantly and is still typically used to degrade women.
R*tard is an ableist slur which should also never be used. (And, to be honest, lots of radfems need to learn this one too.)
We don’t want trans people dead. We don’t want them to struggle and be without help. We just disagree on the help that they should get. You think the only way to help them is to validate their gender and help them to change their entire body in the hope that might make them feel better. We think that mental health support designed to help them cope with their body issues is a much more effective form of support. No situation involves killing them or letting them all commit suicide. We want those who are genuinely struggling to get help.
Slight caveat to the point above: the males who fetishise womanhood and being a lesbian and who aren’t struggling with their body and their identity but just get off to being in a dress and want lesbians to fuck them? They don’t deserve help. They’re pornsick men. But the ones who really are struggling and just trying to get by do need help.
Your community is homophobic as shit. Saying that it’s just a ‘small minority’ who support genital preferences and say rejecting trans people is transphobic and call lesbians TERFs for not liking dick does not fix the problem and only serves to diminish what those who have been at the receiving end of this hateful and homophobic rhetoric have been through. You need to start speaking up against this rhetoric and telling people that it’s not fucking okay. You need to start taking a stand anytime someone says lesbians need to learn to like (girl)dick or to have a sexless relationship with a trans woman to be inclusive or uses the term genital preference (certainly if they’re saying it’s wrong/that people can learn to get over a ‘preference’; but even saying that it’s okay is homophobic because an inherent sexuality is not a preference).
Your community is misogynistic. Even ignoring the fact that the idea that trans women are women and that they know exactly what womanhood is like is misogynistic in and of itself, trans ideology is deeply misogynistic. It’s not okay to use misogynistic slurs, even against women you don’t like. It’s not okay to send rape threats to women, even ones you don’t like. It’s deeply misogynistic to blame all transphobia on TERFs when it’s men who are typically in charge of laws being changed and men who are the ones going around assaulting and mustering trans women. And it’s deeply misogynistic to tell women to get the fuck over themselves and learn to deal with having trans women in their spaces. Women built female spaces for a reason and you are completely ignoring our sex-based oppression which is deeply misogynistic.
Oh, and trans inclusive language? That’s misogynistic to. Forcing women to refer to themselves by their organs and functions especially when women have been seen as little more than their organs/reproductive abilities; making this language completely inaccessible to many women, especially those who speak English as a second language; forcing this language almost exclusively on women while men are still called men (or sometimes just cis men to be a little more specific); and telling any woman who has a problem with it, regardless of their reasoning, to get over themselves? That’s all deeply misogynistic.
Self-ID will be dangerous. I don’t care what stupid reasoning you come up with it not being dangerous because it will be. Men have and will continue to pretend to be women to access those spaces and creep on women because self-ID means that all they have to do is claim that they’re a woman and suddenly it’s transphobic for them to not be allowed to enter. There is no ‘you can tell the difference’ because it doesn’t matter what your personal opinion of that person is: if they say that they are a woman, they have to be allowed into women’s spaces and creepy men will abuse that. (And, no, you can’t argue that trans women ‘have always used women’s spaces and it’s been fine’ because we both know that we live in a different time now. It’s no long a very, very small number of trans people who genuinely tried their hardest to pass as the opposite sex. So unless you’re happy to exclude non-transitioning and non-passing trans people from the spaces which match their ‘gender’, these are the only options.)
Keeping spaces sex-segregated is the only viable alternative to self-ID for most public spaces. I’m happy to hear any ideas of how you’re going to make sure that only trans women can access women’s spaces and that cis men will never be able abuse self-ID to get in, but I don’t think such a solution exists. Therefore, I will continue to defend these spaces being sex-segregated because that’s the best way to ensure that the women in these spaces are safe from the abuses of males.
Continuing to scream that we’re so worried about sharing spaces with trans women ignores what you’re actually asking for in regards to self-ID. As above, literally any person will be able to say ‘I’m a woman’ and access these spaces so while you may focus on the ‘genuine’ trans women who just want to use the bathroom and be more comfortable than they would be in the male spaces, we worried about every single male abusing the existence of self-ID in order to abuse women. Remember what self-ID is: anyone can identify as any gender at any time just by claiming that they are that gender.
‘You shouldn’t be scared of public bathrooms because the bathroom in your home is gender neutral’ is the stupidest fucking argument. Like, I’m sorry, but how fucking idiotic do you have to be to think that comparing a private and public space is not only a good idea but will also support your point? You share a bathroom in your house with people you choose to live with and invite over; you share a public bathroom with strangers. Do you not understand that people can be comfortable sharing a space with family and friends, but uncomfortable sharing with literal fucking strangers who don’t always have the best intentions???
Saying women are adult human females or that they have vaginas does not reduce women down to their organs and you are ignorant as shit is you continue to repeat this lie. Reducing someone to their organs (or any other feature) means that you think the only important/significant thing about them, that you view them as being only of value because of this feature. You know like conservatives saying that women are only valuable/useful for sex and giving birth to children? That’s what reducing women to their organs really means. Stating the common characteristic shared by a certain group does not mean you view the whole group as being valued for that one thing. It’s why no one says that lesbians are female homosexuals reduces lesbians to their sexuality: because, in this case, we recognise that we are stating the shared characteristic that lesbians have.
Radfems don’t believe in gender as a concept. If you’re talking about how radfems believe sex = gender then your argument is already flawed. If you’re talking about radfems believing in gender in any way then your argument is already flawed. We believe in the existence of biological sex and recognise its impact on people in current society, fighting for rights of women who are discriminated against on the basis of their sex. We use the words women and girls which describe people of the female sex based upon their age: adults are women and minors are girls. Men and boys work similarly. These terms are therefore sex-based, not gendered/gender-based. We believe that, functionally, gender is a set of misogynistic stereotypes which tells people (though especially women) how they are supposed to act and serves no purpose in society other than to make people continually question themselves and force people into little boxes. We believe that TRAs and conservatives have gone two different ways with gender and both are harmful: conservatives telling people that they must follow gender roles based on their biological sex and TRAs telling people to identify with a gender based upon what gender roles they like/take up.
Define woman. Please. All we want is a coherent definition of woman which doesn’t rely on stereotypes, debunked brain sex, circular reasoning, or calling it ‘a feeling’. No one has ever been able to give us a coherent definition.
Yeah, brain sex has been debunked after some fucking massive studies into it. Turns out, it was always rooted in misogyny and most of the previous studies were basically just confirmation bias to ‘prove’ that men and women are ‘wired differently’ to give a scientific foundation to all the misogynistic stereotypes surrounding women. Once you account for brain size, we’re really not all that different after all. So no, a trans woman cannot just be born with a female brain; a trans man cannot just be born with a male brain. No such thing exists.
Which argument do you want: there is absolutely no difference between cis and trans people and therefore many people have probably had crushes on trans people without knowing it OR trans people are in danger of being abused/raped/murdered specifically because they’re trans? Because the first argument would suggest that trans people could never be targeted for being trans because people will always see them as their chosen gender and the only people who would know that they’re trans is people that they’ve told but the latter point means trans people are targeted because people can see that they’re trans and therefore many/most trans people don’t pass and so it’s unlikely that people have had all these crushes on trans people because it’s fairly obvious that they’re trans? Because I’m willing to admit that some trans people really do pass and I would not know that they’re trans unless directly told, but the percentage who pass that well is minuscule and hardly representative of all trans people.
Your community is racist. Stop leaning on the whole ‘black women had their womanhood denied from them like trans women are’. Black women weren’t seen as women because they were seen as less than human; they were still viewed as female which is why they were raped and forced through pregnancies. Stop saying that attributes we say are more likely to be found in men are more commonly found in black women therefore we see black women as men. That’s an argument used in bad faith and you know it. Like please learn the difference between ‘more commonly found’ and ‘exclusively found’.
Your community is intersexist. Intersex people are not pawns to be used in your argument. Like 0.1% of the population having a condition which genuinely makes their biological sex more complicated than male or female does not disprove the sex binary and, if anything, the fact that these people struggle with many health problems and are typically infertile goes to show that the sex binary does exist. Moreover, if gender is completely different from sex then conditions which make your biological sex complicated/mixed should say nothing about gender. (And yes, I said 0.1% of the population even though intersex conditions occur at a higher rate than that because most intersex conditions don’t make your sex more complicated than male or female so only a small percentage of intersex conditions overall make people’s biological sex complicated.)
Shut the fuck about PCOS. My condition is not to be used in your arguments. Radfems have never used my condition against me or called me less of a woman for it, so you don’t get to say I’m less female for it either or tell me that you somehow know that radfems see PCOS sufferers that way. You’re the one who abused the existence of my condition and implies that I’m not fully female to make some backwards arguments. You’re the ones abusing the existence of my condition.
Going one step further than PCOS, shut up about women without a uterus or ovaries or post-menopausal women. We know they’re fucking women, dipshits. They’re still adult human females, just ones who are older, went through some trauma which resulted in surgical removal of their sex organs, or had a developmental issue in utero which resulted in them not developing certain organs. (See that I said developmental issue? Because you know what we call people who didn’t grow a uterus but that’s not a problem/issue at all? Men.)
A lot of your views of gender are based on stereotypes. A lot more than you’re willing to admit. You can try to pretend that you’re above all the stereotypes and I’m certain that you genuinely believe that you are, but no one has been able to define woman without referring to brain sex (which is normally just down to stereotypes and debunked anyway) or just straight up stereotypes. And so many people list various stereotypes as one of the reasons they knew that they were trans or non-binary. Even when people say that they don’t ‘feel connected to womanhood’ or whatever as a reason why they’re NB, it’s often because they’re androgynous or not completely feminine 100% of the time. They won’t ever admit that as being the reason, but you can see from how they speak about womanhood and their disconnect to it that it’s true.
Not everything is a fucking dog whistle! A dogwhistle is an inconspicuous term/phrase/symbol which a group uses and only those who are within the group recognise. Like how 88 is a white supremacist number because H is the 8th letter of the alphabet so it’s HH which is Heil Hitler or how ‘I just want the trains to run on time’ is a fascist phrase because it refers to people saying that Mussolini was bad but at least he got the trains to run on time. The only thing that might be considered a radfem dog whistle is TIM/TIF, not because it has a secret double meaning that only we recognise, but because it’s a term which radfems typically use and often isn’t understood outside of radfem circles. It stands for Trans Identified Male/Female and we mean exactly that. We don’t have things that secretly mean that trans people should die. We say exactly what we mean but you just choose to believe the secret meaning you made up over what we are directly telling you, probably because ‘I hate all trans people and I want them to all die’ isn’t something we say.
Saying that we only care about what genitals we have is a simplification of our views which is basically incorrect and used to ignore all our actual issues while making us out to look like creeps. Do you also not understand the homophobic history behind it? Being used against gay people to ask why they were so obsessed with what genitals someone had and why they couldn’t be with the opposite sex? (I’ll answer that: of course you don’t give a shit because you don’t care about homophobia or using homophobic rhetoric which supports your ideology.) We don’t actually care about if someone has a dick or vagina. We care about the fact that the dick havers were raised with male socialisation and that means that they experience life differently from us. We care about the fact that the penis owners are much more likely to abuse women and that far too many will do whatever it takes to be around vulnerable women so that they can abuse them. We care about the fact that we have faced specific issues because we have vaginas both directly (eg: menstruation and childbirth) and indirectly (eg: period stigma, medical misogyny, catcalling, and other forms of discrimination) and we want spaces away from the very people who uphold this misogynistic system to be able to discuss our issues openly. But you constantly ignore all of these issues and make it out to be just about genitals because you ignore our arguments and want to make it out like we’re fucking idiots.
‘Here’s six women. One of them is a trans woman. Guess who’ Isn’t the argument that you think it is. Firstly, literally no one is saying that trans people cannot pass at all. No one. Of course we understand that SOME trans people do pass really well and we would never be able to differentiate them from actual women. Secondly, just because they appear like women doesn’t make them women. They are still biologically male and hence a man. It really doesn’t matter how feminine or well passing they are; they’re men. Thirdly, it is not representative of all trans people. Yes, some people pass well but the photos you show are almost exclusively of rich models who are wearing heavy makeup and who’ve had extensive work done which isn’t accessible to most trans people and you’re basically telling them that if they can’t pass so well then they must not be women. Isn’t that wrong by your own ideology? Fourthly, you really going to do that and then accuse us of saying that women must be feminine? Really? And finally, this is almost always used as a trap against us, hence why we often refuse to respond, but you’re not proving anything. You’re not fighting against any of our arguments; you just think you’re fighting against the whole sexual dimorphism and generally being able to tell women and men apart but being able to generally do something doesn’t mean that there aren’t exceptions? Exceptions don’t make the rule.
I’m not here to argue about what I would believe in some theoretical utopia. I’m here to argue about what is happening in reality. I’ve heard the line ‘but would sex be important if we lived in a society which didn’t discriminate against people by their sex/gender aside from when medically necessary?’ way too much. And the answer is no, but we don’t live in that world and that world is not going to exist within my lifetime at the very least, probably not for centuries. We live in a world where women are treated differently because of their sex. We live in a world where period stigma and medical misogyny and catcalling and rape and domestic violence and devaluation of women’s labour all exist, among other deeply misogynistic issues. So me fighting to get people to recognise that sex is an important characteristic and defending it’s legal protections is not because I deeply believe that it should be an important thing, but because the way in which women are treated by society, particularly at the hands of men, shows that we have built a world in which someone’s sex is an important characteristic and which will affect many aspect of our lives and hence we need to recognise the reality of the world in which we live in. If the end goal is to build a world in which sex is irrelevant outside of medicine then we first need to recognise why it’s not a reality now and work to fix that rather than pretending that everyone’s going to go along with us and misogyny will completely disappear overnight or arguing the what-ifs of this purely theoretical world that we will not live to see.
Radical feminism is about freeing women from their sex-based oppression and fighting for sex-based rights. As a result, males of all genders all inherently excluded from our feminism. To say that we exclude trans people completely is ignoring the fact that trans men and AFAB non-binary people are included in our fight for women’s rights because, regardless of how they identify, they have and will continue to be oppressed on the basis of their sex and they deserve rights to protect them from that discrimination. Your unhappiness that we’re only including people on the basis of their sex is not my fucking problem. Your unhappiness over trans women specifically not being included is not my fucking problem. Movements which seek to free people from their oppression don’t owe it to you to include everyone, they only have to include the oppressed people that they are fighting for. Your inability to understand that is not my fucking problem and only goes to show your entitlement.
If you don’t argue with me in good faith, don’t except me to argue in good faith either. If you’re going to twist my words, ignore what I say, tell me my sources are wrong with no evidence (or tell me that it’s not a source you like/trust enough), and refuse to respond to many of my points then don’t expect me to do the same. I have tried way too many times to argue in good faith only to end up having my points ignored, my sources dismissed, my words twisted if not just straight up having words put into my mouth. If you are not going to be open minded when you talk to me, don’t expect me to put the time in to explain things to you. If you are rude or dismissive or ignoring me or not asking questions, I’m not going to put in all the mental and emotional labour to explain concepts to you and you have not ‘won’ the argument if I have enough and stop responding. You are not owed our time and effort and you should never expect it just because you claim that you ‘really want to learn’.
Please learn some critical thinking skills. I know radfems say this all the time, but I really mean it. If not to understand radfems more, but to be critical of literally all the information that you absorb. I am tired of explaining to people that just because you don’t like or trust the source (like the Daily Mail) doesn’t mean that the actual story itself is untrue. Newspapers like this are incredibly bias and will publish stories which feed into their specific narrative, but it doesn’t mean that what they publish is actually false? Unless you can actually find a source which can tell me that whatever story I’m showing you never happened/was objectively false, I’m going to keep using it. A story which goes against your beliefs doesn’t make it a fake. Biases in newspapers come from the stories which they choose to publish (or not publish), the details they focus on, and the wording they use. My favourite example of this is a few years back when every newspaper was publishing articles about how the Labour and Tory proposed budgets were never going to work/actually balance because the assumptions they used weren’t right. The Daily Mail, however, published only that Labour’s proposed budget wasn’t going to work. Was the story correct? Yes. Did they purposefully leave out information which therefore gave a bias perspective of the two budgets? Absolutely. If you throw everything out which has any biases (which was a thing a TRA I argued with claimed you should do and said that was what they were taught to do), you would have to throw out literally everything ever written. Instead, it’s significantly better to be critical of what you read and understand what biases are in place and why.
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angel-gone-south · 7 months
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Oh dearest writer I am requesting (again) what do YOU think tweek, clyde, kyle, jimmy and pip would call the reader (if that makes any sense 😅) like ig "petnames" but I hate that word more then anything (even more then my mom 🤭)
🖌 anon (as always)
Nicknames for the Reader!
i did romantic AND platonic if that’s okay
Drug mention
【☆】★【☆】
Stan Marsh
Platonic: Dude, Bro, “Lil Homie” or “Big Guy” depending on your height
Romantic: Darling, Honey, Baby. Typical shit unless he’s in a goofy mood, then it’s something stupid like “booboo bear”
Kyle Broflovski
Platonic: Dude, Bro. Classic.
Romantic: Babe, Dear, Honeybun. He never calls you Honeybun in public though, that one is for him only.
Kenny McCormick
Platonic: Babes, among other things that are probably not normally platonic (doll, pretty, etc)
Romantic: Doll, Prince/Princess, Hot stuff (or hotcock/pusspuss when he’s stoned out of his gourd)
Eric Cartman
Platonic: This is Cartman we’re talking about. He calls you derogatory things based on your appearance and background no matter what.
Romantic: Same thing, mostly. But alone he’s much sweeter, or he just adds “my” to the beginning of whatever slur he calls you. He’s not used to love.
Butters/Marjorine Stotch
Platonic: Fella, Buddy, Bubba, etc.
Romantic: Baby, sweetheart, darling, etc. Constantly giving you the sweetest compliments too. “Handsome boy” or “pretty girl” or simply just “gorgeous”
Craig Tucker
Platonic: Dude. Bro sometimes but he’s a very Dude guy.
Romantic: We all know he calls his partners honey, but also I think he would call you cupcake or love. Maybe even just baby.
Tweek Tweak
Platonic: Bro, my guy. Uses your name a lot.
Romantic: Hun, Cutie, just the most sickeningly sweet shit. He’s smitten.
Clyde Donovan
Platonic: Dude, bro, guy. Regardless of gender.
Romantic: Something stupid. Little lady/baby boy/my darling when he wants to embarrass you. Bae in front of his friends.
Tolkien Black
Platonic: Simple and straight to the point, he uses your name. Occasionally dude.
Romantic: I’m sorry he’s the guy to say pookie unironically 💀 he also calls you “little bug” though which is honestly adorable
Jimmy Valmer
Platonic: My man/Little Dude/Miss lady. He’s a jokester, whaddya want?
Romantic: Sweetums, cutie patootie, lovebug.
Scott Malkinson
Platonic: Dude, your name. Very simple.
Romantic: He’s probably so nervous but I think he would call you sugar, hon, and babe. He’s also definitely fond of dear and darling.
Pip Pirrup
Platonic: Friend, Chap, other British things.
Romantic: Love, sweetie, baby, missus/mister/mx. He adores you to the bone.
Damien Thorn
Platonic: Puny, worm, other such insults.
Romantic: Mortal. Also refers to you as “the Tolerable One” and “Mine.” Sometimes, when he’s feeling extra sappy, he calls you his little angel or firestarter.
Gregory (of Yardale)
Platonic: He does NOT know what that means so prepare for a litany of Prince/Princess, My Liege, etc.
Romantic: Others include: My sweet, love, sunshine, baby, little flower, beautiful, gorgeous, etc.
Christophe “The Mole” DeLorne
Platonic: “Friend” is the best thing you could squeeze out of him.
Romantic: lots of French. “Papillon” (butterfly), “Mon cher/Ma chérie” (my dear/my darling), “Amour” (love). He prays you don’t understand. Never point them out he WILL stop.
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And another thing! Literally any queer story that takes place during the colonial age would have a huge gaping hole in it if it didn't have anticolonialism as a theme. Especially one that centers indigenous people. Like the reason that every culture had their own concepts of gender until something happened and then suddenly the gender binary was ubiquitous is because western European colonial powers made their view of gender the only acceptable one as part of christianizing and colonizing the world. You're not gonna have a show set in 1717 in the Caribbean where the love interest is a gay Maori man and the main deuteragonist is a non-binary mestizo catholic and just skip over colonialism. Like these are exactly the people who western gender roles are being forced on at fucking gun point during this era. Jim and Ed are both mixed race characters who's gender and sexual identities are in active defiance of the colonial powers that be. And this is the fucking Stede Ed and Jim show.
And there's something to be said for the fact that Stede's toxic masculinity plot line is internalized and Ed's struggle with toxic masculinity is largely external in the form a white guy who rubs elbows with the British Navy when Ed doesn't behave to his standard of masculinity. That choice didn't come out of nowhere and it shows a deep understanding of where homophobia comes from. That's not to say that precolonial communities of color were paradise for people that we today would consider queer but the rich tapestry of sexual and gender expressions that existed in those communities were erased in the name of colonialism. That's going to affect literally any queer person at the time when OFMD is set. These two things are inextricably linked.
Like when David Jenkins says a lot of what we're taught about being men is wrong, motherfucker who taught us what a man was. Who taught Ed what a man was? Who taught Stede what a man was for that matter? It's the white dad with the English accent who is violent (derogatory) and overbearing.
Like you get what I'm saying right? Like it's a silly little rom com but also it must necessarily be that deep because of who these characters are and when and where they exist.
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pleasecallmealsip · 18 days
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it's easy to say "let's not ignore the negatives" about the french revolution. it's not as easy to see just what the "negatives" were.
the french revolution did not bring about a "power vacuum". the legislative assembly was formed as soon as the constituent assembly completed a new constitution and dissolved itself. in the constituent, the legislative, and the national convention, at any time, a president would be elected every 15 days. the word "anarchy" carried with it very derogatory notions, and even marat and robespierre condemned it.
the "if violent, then don't" type of criticism to the frev is reductive, and risky of using double standards. a) it is reductive because "the frev" is a long period across a vast geographical area (if we say the frev spanned 1789-1799, then haiti was not independent during this time). are we talking the potential violence of the louis xvi's german and swiss guards, or the parisian urban poor running to seize arms in the bastille to protect themselves? are we talking the national guard shooting the peaceful petitioners calling to put louis xvi on trial for his fleeing to varennes on 17th july 1791, or are we talking about marat's strongly-worded condemnation of the national guard in response (l'ami du peuple no.524, 20th july, 1791)? are we talking the declaration of pillnitz was on 27th august 1791, where prussian and austrian armies vague-posted about forming a military coalition against the constituent assembly, or are we talking brissot and his friends' eagerness to declare war and even potentially to extend the revolution beyond metropolitan france, or are we talking the consequence of brissot's decision of rushing into war with an army so untrained, so underpaid, so unarmed? you get the idea. to vaguely condemn violence would obfuscate everybody's position, and nullify any discussion of just what course of action to take in order to build a republic from scratch. b) it is risky of double standards, because violence was not an exception, especially not in the late 18th century. before this was the seven years' war. after this was the empire. i strongly recommend reading about the united irish rebellion of 1798 and the british response to that, and see what violent injustice "some of the most famous names" of ireland in the same time period had to face.
as for the "original goal" of the french revolution, more well-read mutuals can brief you on just how many goals the jacobins had alone. the goals of the gironde were a very different set of goals from the very beginning, the goals of the monarchiens more different still. but in any case, the "original goal" was not "independence". france was (and is) an economically strong part of the imperial core. one of the goals of the haitian revolution was independence from france.
that the bourbons restoration happened at all says everything about bonaparte's failure to withstand the coalition wars that came back to him again and again and again, like waves on a shore (see my point on brissot above). it says very little about the Spirit of revolution, which in the end shall save us all. They say revolutions turn out badly. But they're constantly confusing two different things, the way revolutions turn out historically and people's revolutionary becoming. These relate to two different sets of people. Men's only hope lies in a revolutionary becoming: the only way of casting off their shame or responding to what is intolerable. (Gilles Deleuze, Negotiations, New York: Columbia University Press 1995,p. 171, which can be read here, in its entirety.)
just what name should be given to the period of july 1793 - july 1794 is a matter that is still not settled among historians themselves. the word "terror" got its negative notions from tallien, who was very biased, so biased in fact he tried to assassinate his opponents in the convention. tallien did not succeed despite the execution, without a trial, of his opponents (maximilien robespierre, augustin robespierre, aristide couthon, antoine saint-just, françois hanriot, and some one hundred others). he did not seize more power himself. he himself was denounced by his colleagues as complicit in violent excesses. he shifted blames onto his colleagues in turn. his career was more or less ended by the moderates he sought to please. and then the "reign" part was only added when this term entered the english-speaking parts of the world. so this name was both biased and non-universal. it is still biased and non-universal. i genuinely do not wish to tell anybody what to do, but if you say "reign of terror" uncritically, people are going to tell you that you are using a reactionary term, because you are.
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magewolf-the-artist · 2 months
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Yeah so I decided to update Susan's ref sheet because oh my god it's so fucking ugly-
But yeah, I'm much more satisfied with this one because I've developed my style for drawing these fuckers a lot better and the pose radiates more personality.
Old ref: https://www.tumblr.com/magewolf-the-artist/743345425139040256/on-this-episode-of-walten-files-brainrot-heyyyyyy?source=share
Here's her bio with a couple add-ons:
Apparently she's British (Her accent is still a mystery to me but I've seen a couple people say this so ehhhh). So my headcanon is that her family immigrated to the US when she was four, so while she does have an accent, she doesn't really say any slang. Occasionally she might call someone a twit (affectionate) or a twat (derogatory), but that's about it.
At some point during her fun little maze adventure, the neck cables that held up the animatronic head snapped due to the constant pressure of Susan's broken ass neck forcing her head to loll to the side. While at the facility she found that she can use metal ties to hold the cables upright. She has to tighten them constantly though or else her vision will be forced into portrait mode
Ashley fixed the cable while she, Kevin, and Hilary were there and Susan is forever grateful to her
She probably accidently breaks it again through something stupid like bumping her head against the door frame or something and boy oh boy was she PISSED
On that topic, she tries her best to upkeep her and everyone else's bodies but there's only so much she can do with limited tools and slightly worse motor skills (imagine doing a task that requires very precise movements through winter gloves and you'll pretty much get the idea)
She refuses to repair Bon though and tells him to figure it out himself.
She's become way more snappy, short tempered, and easily frustrated after her death. Trauma, baby!
Susan kinda acts as a shoulder to vent to whenever anyone needs to talk. She can’t really offer much in response or comfort since A, she’s the type to push things away and compartmentalize, and B… well, she can’t exactly promise everything’s gonna be okay, now can she? Still, sometimes it’s nice to just talk
Some days though she just kinda… shuts down emotionally. Just kinda lays on the floor and can’t find any motivation to get up or do anything. Thinking about everything and nothing at the same time, staring blankly into space
Charles usually stays with her during these episodes and depending on the day, he either just sits with her quietly or rambles about random shit like he did when they were alive
Her sleep schedule was super fucked up when they all came to the facility because she was used to being up and around at night. It's gotten better but she still sometimes wakes up buttfuck early and has come to appreciate the serenity of the nights
Probably the most casual about her death, as opposed to Rosemary's crying and Charles desperately trying to change the subject
She walks with a very distinctive shuffle, something she picked up from her fun little maze adventure because the weird shuffle walk helped lessen the pain she put herself through and conserved energy. It used to be a lot more pronounced but it's faded slightly overtime
Usually hangs out with Charles
Is constantly exasperated by Charles' antics
To pass the time she either plays card games with Charles or organizes the tools in the maintenance closet
She tried to talk to Rosemary when they were first brought to the K-9 facility but only got silence in return. She's kinda just given up now and mostly leaves her alone
Is the most familiar with Bon's abilities and didn't even bother trying to escape the facility because she knew it was futile
Helps coach everyone but Rocket on how to move
When helping Ashley figure out to move she probably made an off-handed comment like, "if you think that's hard, imagine having to learn how to do this while being alive" and only realized Ashley had no context for that when she gave her a very confused and worried look
Hates Bon's guts and is usually annoyed/angry with him
She also hates Felix's guts, but everyone does so it's not anything special.
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mim526 · 11 months
Text
Land of Confusion
There's too many men Making too many problems Can't you see This is a land of confusion? ~~ Phil Collins
It's clear as day the adult child lives in a fantasy world of illusion and delusion.
His brother's choice to stay, to live a life of service, of learning and relating to ordinary people are beneath him. Harry's children must be hidden from the world's eyes. No getting 'stuck in' working with locals on scout projects for his kids. The Wales family can walk along streets among regular people. They know about kitchens; they make cakes together at home while the literal prince and princess parents pitch in at charity kitchens across Britain. Not Harry...he's the 'Spare' don'tcha know.
William was a fool to quietly settle a legitimate electronic invasion of his privacy then donate the money to charity. Harry's going to teach the press a lesson, grind them into the ground...for Britain's benefit, of course. Because how dare the press be interested in royals or making money from the public's interest in them. Only Harry has the right to spin [what he remembers of] his life into traitorous trash talk gold dross.
Absent evidence to support his claims, Harry says he accuses the press on principle. This is one of the biggest lies of this whole farce because a man of honor and principle does not use a woman's name in court to serve his own ends. Harry says she left because of being in the press too much yet 118 times someone has counted he used her name in court filings. That is unprincipled or dishonorable behavior: that is a CAD who will use anyone and anything, even someone he purportedly loves, to get what he wants. Let's be clear, what he wants is control.
Jan Moir describes Harry's performance as "a combustible mixture of victimhood and arrogance...managing to contradict himself, behave like an entitled snob and make no sense, all at the same time." Some social media posts continue to explain reasons/motives...he's deeply flawed, damaged by childhood trauma he's never dealt with adequately, has no support to deal with, etc. Frankly, that dog won't hunt if justice is truly blind.
This is a court of law, not a therapy session or filmed interview for the purpose of airing 'his truth'. You either put up...as in hard evidence backing your claim of illegality and coherent testimony given on the court's timetable, not yours...or shut up, as in be prepared for the judge to rule against you for failing to make your case. If the justice system does not rule against you, the court of public opinion will.
It will be interesting to see in Harry's portion of the case whether more deference is given to the press per legal tradition or the royal family per cultural tradition. Harry obviously sees no irony in carping about the press' interest in royals while also ensuring his HRH and position as 'a member of the royal family' are in the court record. Nor does he disguise his contempt for "never complain, never explain" or those in his family who live(d) by that creed...including his deceased, highly respected grandparents.
Deference may be a habit learned, but it is definitely earned. The points Elizabeth and Philip earned for the BRF over 70+ years of steadfast service to Britain are diminished with Harry's every derogatory utterance and self-focused, dishonorable action. It's not enough for other working royals to make the silent case the rest of the family is different. He's stated in court under oath that the press and specific journalists are "utterly vile", the British government is "rock bottom".
According to the Daily Mail, no senior member of the BRF (Harry is 5th in line) has ever openly attacked elected politicians in the history of Britain's constitutional monarchy.
With all due respect to His Majesty, it is past time to deal with your second son. No more trips out of country or to the country to avoid being hit up for $$ when he's in town. Or appearing to appease the masses by getting Parliament to add Anne and Edward while you quietly issue letters patent formally naming Harry a Counselor of State in your absence. Or conferring titles and places in the line of succession for children whose secretive births have not been publicly and medically confirmed as all other royals in the LoS have been.
Decisively deal with him, publicly and permanently, or see your deference erode so far that not even this beautiful spirit can save the BRF.
#Harry #WitnessTestimony #MirrorGroupLawsuit
75 notes · View notes
kingshimura4872 · 8 months
Text
Mutt
Happy Friday, chitlins.
Completely forgot what day it was, but worry not, for I have more garbage for you to consume at your leisure.
Paring - (Kinda-ish) Bakugou Katsuki Bakugou x GN! Reader
Word count - 5.2K
Warnings - Arguing and strong language a little bit all throughout the story, bakugou learning, cursing, dark themes, derogatory slander, if I missed smth big lemme know :]
____________________________________
His blood ran cold just at the sight of you. Now here you were, in front of him. The same uniform as he. A glare colder than he remembered. His heart ached at the memory of what he used to do to you. What he put you through. The things he said, the things he did. His skin paled the closer you got. Everyone was watching.
   “You seem less than enthused that I’m here.” Your voice sent knives into his spine as his hands were beginning to become clammy. They clenched in his pant pockets as he nervously swallowed.
   “I…” No words came to his mind, leaving him speechless. Mouth every so slightly agape. 
   “Speechless, I see.” An empty smirk spread across your features as you once again closed the distance. He unconsciously stepped back stiffly, sending shock and gasps through the audience of his fellow classmates. Bakugou knew the new transfer student? 
   “(Y/N)?” A new member joined the conversation as you effortlessly glanced away from the startled blonde.
   “Ah. Midoriya.” A more genuine smile replaced the last as a familiar mop of green hair made its way to the front of the group.
   “I wasn’t expecting to ever see you again.” He spoke, clearly shocked at your presence. 
   “Well, start expecting to see it every day. I'm real. I'm here.”
You took another careful glance at the other boy, seeing him still staring with that stupid dumbfounded look on his face. Your own twisted in annoyance.
   “Since when did Bakugou stop talking all the time? Thought that was all he knew how to do.” You scoffed.
   “U-Uhm, maybe now’s not the time for that.” Midoriya laughed nervously, coming up to you and placing a gentle hand on your arm. Your posture stiffed a little at the sudden touch and you looked away, letting out a sharp sigh. “Whatever.”
The greenette let out his own sigh, his of relief, leading you away from Bakugou slowly.
   “Where’s your dorm? I’m sure you haven’t unpacked completely, so why don’t I help you out? It’d be a nice chance to catch up.” His tone had lightened substantially and you couldn’t help but follow as you nodded and lead him off.
   “Who was that, dude?” Kirishima, a friend of Bakugou's, asked suddenly once you were out of ear shot. He looked over to the still startled blonde, who was now staring down at the floor. He strutted over to him, laying a calming hand on Bakugou’s upper back, tilting his head closer.
Bakugou was silent for a moment. Then he opened his mouth, finally finding the words he’d been needing to say for so long.
   “Someone I need to apologize to. Badly.”
_________________________________
   “So you’re just, like…A dog hybrid?”
   “Well if we’re specific, my ‘breed’ so to speak is very adjacent to the Canis lupus occidentalis. They’re more commonly known as northwestern wolves or Makenzie Valley wolves.” You explained. You decided to sit down with a specific group of people during lunch, and even with the selection, more people couldn’t help but flock to you to learn about you. You had big wolf-like ears and a big bushy tail that you’d learned to make appear and disappear at will. You often found it more comfortable to let them out, but you knew when to make them go away and it looked as if you were completely human. 
   “So what do the wolves themselves look like? If you’re okay with a little history lesson.” 
   “I don’t mind at all, Sero.” You smiled. “Northwestern wolves are one of the largest subspecies of wolves. In British Columbia, Canada, five adult females averaged forty-two point five kilos or ninety-three point six pounds with a range of thirty-eight point six to forty-five point four kilos or eighty-five to a hundred pounds and ten adult males averaged fifty-one point seven kilos or a hundred and twelve point two pounds with a range of forty-seven point six to sixty-one point two kilos or a hundred and five to a hundred and thirty-five pounds, with a weight range for all adults of thirty-eight point six to sixty-one point two kilos or eighty-five to a hundred and thirty-five pounds. In Yellowstone National Park, adult females were averaged at about forty kilos or ninety pounds and adult males average about fifty kilos or a hundred and ten pounds, with a mean adult body mass in winter of forty-six point four kilos or around a hundred and two pounds. More recent studies have reported the average range of height and weight in the north-west of the United States, both sexes were between sixty-eight and ninety-one and a half centimeters or twenty-six point eight and thirty-six inches tall at the shoulder. Here the weight of males was reported at between forty-five and seventy-two kilos or ninety-nine to one hundred and fifty-nine pounds, while the females were reported at thirty-six to sixty kilos or seventy-nine to one hundred and thirty-two pounds. The Northwestern wolf is also one of the longest wolf subspecies as its length usually ranges from five to six feet or one hundred and fifty-two to one hundred and eighty-three centimeters, and it can also reach as long as seven feet or two hundred and thirteen centimeters.” You began, pulling out a small notebook to show everyone. It felt scripted, but it was only because you’d memorized every detail there was to know. It was after all a part of you. Why wouldn’t you want to know everything about yourself? “The Northwestern wolf is native to the arctic tundra regions of northern Alberta, Northwest Territories, Yukon Territory, Nunavut and Alaska where it prefers cold climates and open meadows for hunting. It is easily distinguished from other North American wolves due to its longer muzzle and larger body size, however some individuals may also exhibit white fur coats which helps them blend into snow-covered landscapes during winter months. Its diet primarily consists of large ungulates such as caribou or moose but can also include smaller prey like beavers or hares depending on availability. Its fur color can vary from light gray to black, but commonly exhibits shades of brown and white. The coat texture is thick, with an undercoat designed for insulation in colder climates. I personally have a much darker coat when I need to change.” You added in. “It makes me a lot harder to find in the shadows and that personally is a bonus for me.” A small giggle escaped you as you flipped a few pages throughout your explanation. They were soaking in everything you were telling them and it felt amazing. They were actually interested in what you had to say. 
   “What about partnerships?” Someone piped up.
   “Hm? What do you mean?”
   “Well, I mean - Oh, I’m Kaminari by the way - but, I think I read somewhere that some canines do the whole mate for life thing. Does that track to you? Or is it just the actual animal?”
You looked down at your notebook, silently gulping.
   “Uhh, w-well…” You stuttered. “Uh, I’m not entirely sure!”
   “Huh?” This came from multiple people this time.
   “Well, I’ve never found the one if you will, so I’m not sure. I’ve never really been one for dating, so I never bothered with it, so I can’t really give you an explanation on that one.” You laughed stiffly, shifting in your chair. 
Everyone seemed satisfied with your answer and backed off of it, so you smiled and let it go.
   “Uhm, excuse me, (Y/N)?”
   “Oh, what’s up, Midoriya?” You hummed, turning your body to full face the boy.
   “Would you mind if I bugged you later about your quirk? It feels like we haven’t seen each other in so long, I wanna update my notebook if it’s okay with you.” He outlined. You smiled once again and nodded eagerly.
   “Of course, you can! I’d love to compare the notes.”
He gleamed, spewing thanks for the rest of lunch.
All the while, Bakugou sat a few seats away, his eyes glued to you. He couldn’t believe it was really you. He couldn’t believe it.
________________________
“(L/N), you’ll be paired up with Bakugou, Kirishima, and Kaminari in group five. And that should be all your groups. Is anyone missing a partner group?” 
Aizawa stood in front of your class, explaining how today’s training session would work. Today was a rescue and recon with a neighboring class. Everyone shook their heads, all having their respective groups and Aizawa nodded, turning his back.
   “Alright then, there are five groups of ‘civilians’ all trapped within different kinds of issues. One of you from each group has a card with the patch of land that your neighboring classmates are in. You have twenty minutes to locate and retrieve every member as well as bring them back here to the starting area safely.” He continued, pulling out a stopwatch as everyone got into starting positions. 
   “And….Go.” And with that, everyone took off down the hill, into the large expanse of land. There were different terrains, showing that the area itself was most likely man made. There were woods, lakes, mountains, a small area of broken buildings and more. Your group took off northwest in the direction of a deep patch of forest. You were faster than most, your feet carrying you effortlessly through deep rich trees, while the others struggled to keep up.
After a few minutes of running, you all stopped by a fallen tree to talk strategy. 
   “So what should we do once we find them?” Kirishima asked.
   “Well my immediate response would be to let me carry the majority of the casualties. I can carry about five people at a time in my canine form so that will definitely make for light work. It all depends on how many there are.”
   “Oh, I know! We can make a big sled for everyone who doesn’t fit and we’d make it back in no time!” Kaminari beamed.
   “Yeah but…How would we make that sled?” You laughed, glancing around.
   “I have rope in my rescue bag and Kirishima is definitely strong enough to break off a big piece of tree.” 
You looked at each other, Kirishima glancing at Bakugou, who was being uncharacteristically silent.
   “You okay, man? We could really use your input here.”
   “I’m fine. Just do whatever, I’ll go scout to see if we can find the casualties.” The blonde huffed, climbing over the fallen tree and looking around. You rolled your eyes, looking into your rescue bag.
   “If we can make that sled people safe in the next ten minutes, we can still make it back in time.” You hummed, pulling out some electric tape. “Riot, you think you can make a big enough board flat and smooth?” You questioned. Kirishima lifted an arm, rolling his shoulder and holding his bicep with his other hand.
   “Won’t know until we try.”
“Wow, six minutes, that’s really good. Good job, guys.” You smiled, tugging on the rope to make sure it was secure. “Dynamight, did you find which direction we need to go?” The question came out a little impatient, but you did your best to remain civil. You may not have liked the bastard but it didn’t mean you couldn’t work with him to pass this training course.
   “North-Northeast about forty degrees.” He sighed, leaning against the fallen tree. It had become the official landmark for the rest of this training session. 
   “Good. Boys, hop on. I’ll make it there faster if I know none of you are falling behind.” You added, cracking your neck and knuckles.
   “Ooh, ooh! (Y/N)! (Y/N)! Can I ride on top of you?!” Kaminari shouted, getting a bit flustered when you and Kirishima began laughing. “You know I didn’t mean it like that!”
   “It’s fine, it’s fine. You better know how to grip hard though. I’m faster than you think.” You laughed, squatting down to stretch a little more. Been a hot minute since I did this now that I think about it. You thought to yourself. “Riot, you hope the rope. It may be sturdy now, but it’s better safe than sorry.”
   “Will do. Kaminari was giddy as the other two boys climbed on your makeshift sled. You leaned forward in your squat, digging your shoes into the dirt and placing your palms flat on the ground. You took a deep breath, black smoke beginning to envelope you while the other watched in awe. In a moment’s flash, there you stood, covered in fur and looking like a real wild wolf. You towered over the boys, body reaching their heads as you knelt down a bit for Kaminari to climb up. You barked to get his attention, as he was stunned still. It was deep, loud. More assertive than Bakugou remembered. You were bigger than he remembered you being. You were stronger now. 
Kaminari giddily climbed up onto you, gripping two big patches of fur on your shoulder blades tiger after another bark. Once everyone was prepared you leaned down, digging your claws into the dirt and charging forward. Kaminari and Kirishima almost fell off from the sudden change of pace, yelling and laughing a bit.
   “This is so freaking cool!!” Kaminari cried, laughing. He looked like a child seeing his idol for the first time in person as you sniffed the air for scents. You smelled an increase in scents, meaning you were close. You took a sharp left turn, jumping over a rock and stopping dead in your tracks when you saw a small group of people. Obviously they weren’t actually injured, but they had dirt on them and some of their clothes were ripped. You assumed they wanted to go for realism.
You barked for everyone to get off and get to work securing the ‘civilians’. Kaminari worked on counting heads and making sure everyone was secure on the sled while Kirishima and Bakugou were on carrying duty. It took a total of five minutes to get everyone ready to move, some laughing with their friends and some looking at you in awe.
   “You’re that new 1-A transfer right? My name is Pony!” One of the girls grinned, running her fingers through your coat. You gave a sharp nod, turning your snout back to see if everyone was prepared. 
   “I don’t think we can fit everyone on the sled, (Y/N).” Kirishima sighed, looking to see there were two people left in the rescue group. There were a total of seven people in the group and with your own group added, it totaled ten bodies. You yourself were excluded, as you were the one doing the carrying, but with Bakugou and Kirishima on the sled, you could only fit seven people safely on the sled. You nodded and kneeled down, barking three times.
   “Are you sure you can fit the rest?” Kaminari asked, a little worried now. You once again nodded your head, nudging his side for him to guide the last two rescues on. “Alright, we trust you.”
Kaminari helped the other two up, staying in front so he could keep the strongest grip while Pony and another 1-B student sat behind him, Pony wrapped her arms around his waist and the other student did the same with her as you stood up with ease. 
   “When were you able to do that?” Bakugou muttered to himself under his breath. 
You gave everyone another bark and they all tightened their grip as you took off back to the starting area. You made it back with your teacher’s scent and when you did make it back, you were congratulated on being the first group back. 
   “Sixteen minutes, good job. I see you made a rescue item by yourselves. Smart.” He drummed, a small smile on his tired face. Everyone dismounted from their positions and another small cloud of black smoke turned you back to your normal self. You decided to relax and let your demi features stay out in the open to air out. 
   “All we need to do is wait for the rest of the groups to return, so relax. You’ve earned it.” 
He left all of you to chill out by a large rock wall as he made his way back to the front of the starting area.
   “That was so cool, (Y/N), You’re really something!” Kaminari chimed, sitting down right beside you. You smiled and tapped his nose with your tail, which he quickly took in his hands to fiddle with.
   “It was nothing. I’ve trained for this for years. I’m just glad I was able to transfer so late. Switching high schools in the middle of your second year isn’t exactly an easy feat.”
   “Speaking of which, how were you able to transfer so late?” Kirishima pondered, taking a spot at your other side. You shrugged.
   “Not really sure. I put in my admission papers and I went through the entrance exams like everyone else, but I never got the paper telling me I got in. So I kinda just cut my losses and went to my second choice school that was closer to my home. Went through my entire first year and half of my second just living my life. But there was one day where I went to my second period and my teacher randomly started letting everyone congratulate me on being admitted to U.A. It was a shock to me, but I sure as hell wasn’t gonna let it slip out of my hands, so we had a big goodbye party with a couple of my other classes and next thing you know I’m given a uniform and a schedule.” You explained, looking up at the clear midday sky. It was a beautiful blue. 
   “Well then, how’s your new school in comparison. It’s been a couple weeks already. Have you been able to adjust?” Kaminari piped up.
   “Eh, I don’t wanna compare schools, they’re both awesome. I made some really good friends in that school and I’ve made some really good friends in this school. It was actually pretty easy to adjust with awesome guys like you two with me.”
The boys gushed and laughed with you for the rest of the training period, talking about nothing in particular and making random jokes. 
__________________________
“You’re joking, right?” Your words were like boiling venom to Bakugou. He stood in front of you in the common room, fists clenched in tight balls as he bit the inside of his lip.
   “..No.”
   “Since when do you ‘Just wanna talk’?” You scoffed, putting air quotations up. He could feel his ears getting hot with embarrassment. He was asking you to go outside with him to have a short chat, only almost everyone in the class was in the common area as well. Watching silently.
   “Since now. Can we just…Go to the hall or something?” He asked again quietly. You huffed, crossing your arms and leaning against the back of the couch.
   “Why?”
   “It’s…Private.”   “Then why am I the one that has to go with you?”
   “It’s important.”
   “So you’ve said. I still have no fucking reason to believe you.” You spat. He looked down at his shoes, unable to speak again.
   “Maybe you should just go with him.” Midoriya whispered to you from on the couch, gently putting his hand on your arm. You glanced back at him. “Just for a moment? I doubt he’ll physically keep you from leaving. You can always just walk away if you don’t wanna talk anymore.” He reasoned, his ever calming smile getting to you. You were quiet yourself for a moment.
   “Ugh! Fine. You get five minutes max. Lead the way.” You barked, dropping your head back in annoyance and sticking your hands into the pockets of your sweatpants. Bakugou silently nodded and walked to the front door that led to the hallway.
   “I’ll be back, I guess.” You muttered, following hesitantly.
Once the two of you left, Sero spoke up.
   “What’s up with those two? Do they got history or somethin’?”
Midoriya sighed, looking at the closed door. “You could say that. (Y/N) was around during a time where Kacchan was less…agreeable. I suppose the tension didn’t ease when we parted ways.” He spoke softly. The others took in that information, not asking anything more. They understood that it was both a personal and touchy subject, so they didn’t push. 
You followed Bakugou down the hallway outside into a small benched area. It had a few flower bushes with concrete pavers snuggled into the grass. A large circle with a few paths in different directions sat under your feet as he led you closer to the center. In front of you stood a solid granite garden fountain. It had two lifted tiers with a larger depression at the bottom to hold the water spewing off the upper levels. It stood proudly at around six feet in height while the largest part of it was almost eight feet wide. It was filled with clear cool water, most likely cleaned daily or weekly. The fountain was in pristine condition, sitting in a quatrefoil edition, the natural granite displayed many beautiful patterns in itself. 
Bakugou finally stopped walking, halting you in his own movements. He turned his body to face you, an unusual softness in his gaze. It took you back if only for a split second and you couldn’t help but swallow silently.
   “Well?” You snuffed. “What was so important that you had to bring me out here so close to curfew? I was kinda busy, y’know.” 
   “It’s important.”   “You keep saying that and it doesn’t get any more believable, dude.” Your words were filled with malice for the man in front of you. But even you couldn’t deny the ever so obvious fact. This was not the boy you knew from before. He was different. Something happened.
   “I’m sorry.” He finally mumbled, sending icy chills up your entire body. You visibly tensed at the two words, eyes widening and hands getting clammy.
   “What?”
   “I’m sorry. Both for taking up your time so suddenly and for everything I’ve done to you. You didn’t deserve any of that. I’ve been working myself up to admitting everything that happened and that it was no one else’s but my fault. Nothing I ever said to you was true, I know that. The things I did to you and the things of yours that I destroyed will never be erased but the bottom line I can give you is a proper apology like you’ve deserved the whole time.” 
The words spewing from his mouth weren’t what you were expecting. Why here? Why now? What was he planning? Did he just want to get on your good side in order to humiliate you again? No. I’m not letting him get to me again.
   “I don’t give a fuck what you have to say about the past, you piece of shit. You think you can just waltz out here and say sorry and it’ll all be happy go lucky?!” You snapped, your gaze hostile and burning into his own. 
   “I didn’t come out here with the expectation that you’d forgive me. I wasn’t even expecting you to come out here with me at all if I’m honest. I just thought the least you deserved was an apology for all the stupid childish shit I pulled.”
   “Well I don’t fucking care! You ruined my life, asshat!”   “I know.”
   “You made me feel like something worse than dirt!”
   “I know.”
   “You told me to kill myself!”
   “..I know.”
   “Then tell me something you don’t know! Or shut the fuck up and stay out of my way! I didn’t come here for you, I did this for me. You’re nothing more than a number to me.” 
   “I know that’s not true. I may not be able to ever fully understand the pain I put you through for so long, but I know that as much as you hate me, I’ll never just be that background character. And I hate that even now I’m still hurting you.”
Your hands and lips trembled and your eyes burned. This motherfucker.
   “That’s bullshit and you know it!”
   “No, what’s bullshit is the fact that you’re trying to deny it. I may have ripped up those letters but it doesn’t mean I didn’t read them.”
You gasped with shaky breaths. You thought he didn’t. No, you know he didn’t.
   “Bullshit.” You utter. Your voice was getting more uneven by the second.
   “I kept the pieces and taped it back up when I had gotten home. I don’t know why I did, but I did. And I kept it.” He reached into his pocket and pulled a folded piece of paper out. He unfolded it, revealing an absurd amount of scotch tape holding the fragile item together. “I looked at it everyday, rereading the rods and I couldn’t help but want to kick my own ass for being so shitty to you. You didn’t deserve it when all you wanted to do was follow your instinct.” His voice was getting smaller. You couldn’t stop yourself from getting closer to keep hearing it. He slowly held out the paper to you and your brain didn’t stop your hands from taking it. Your fingers brushed his and a sudden rush of energy shot down your spine. You shivered light, turning the paper and reading it. There in your middle school handwriting - A confession letter addressed to the fiery blonde. It explained how the wolf in you had chosen him to be your one. You hated the word mate, you always have. You even explained that in the page and a half of writing. You told him you didn’t expect him to love you back, but to at least let you be around him a little more often. You told him you couldn’t help but feel safe around him, even if he was a bit mean to others sometimes. You told him you didn’t like that he bullied Midoriya but would help him calm down if he accepted you. You told him you’d be there to protect him day and night. That you’d always be there if he needed you. That you would help him whenever he felt down or angry. You’d help him with quirk training, you’d help him with homework, you’d help him study for exams. You just wanted to be near him. That’s all you ever wanted.
And yet when you almost tripped over yourself to hold the note out to him, he took one look at it and burst out laughing. He and his friends laughed at you and taunted you to no end. He snatched the letter from your meek hands and ripped it up in front of you. They kept laughing as you began to cry and pulled your tail back rather harshly when you tried to leave. They tripped you, letting you cry on the floor as they kept laughing and spewing insults at you.
   “I’d never wanna be with a mutt like you!” He guffawed. “You’re so weak! All you’d do is cry my ear off. You’re always so annoying!”
   “You called me a mutt that day.” You whispered, staring blankly at the paper.
   “I did.”
   “You called me weak…”
   “I did.”
   “You called me annoying.”
   “I know.”
   “You told me I’d have a better chance at meeting a man if I jumped off the school roof. But not even the EMT’s would wanna touch me because I was so disgusting.” 
He was silent.
   “You told me to stay out of your way. If I ever came back, you’d put me in my place. Do you remember?”
   “I do.”
   “So? Was this part of your plan? Get me all mopey and beat the shit outta me again?”
   “No.”
   “Then why?...” You grit your teeth and threw the paper to the ground. “WHY DO THIS TO ME?!”
He took a step towards you. You stood your ground. He took another step. You didn’t. He took another. He was right in front of you. Your fists were balled tight, knuckles white. Your body trembled.
   “I’m sorry.” He whispered, voice barely audible. You growled, lifting your right arm and hooking him square in the jaw. He hit the ground with a thump. He didn’t try to get up. He didn’t stop you when you climbed over him, screaming profanities and hitting his chest in a way you both knew didn’t hurt physically. But it did hurt. He didn’t stop when your attacks ceased and all you did was sob into his chest, curling in on yourself. He didn’t stop you when you began spewing apologies for different things he knew you shouldn’t have to apologize for. All he did was lay there, back against the cold concrete as clouds began to roll into the night sky. You didn’t notice the way water began to drizzle onto your back. You didn’t notice the tears in Bakugou’s eyes and you didn’t notice that you’d begun to curl yourself into him. What you did notice was the feeling of his warm arms wrapping around you. You didn’t want to feel this way again. You hated how safe his hold felt. You hate how warm he was. You hated how soft the both of you were feeling. 
   “I’m sorry.” He repeated. It felt like a mantra at this point. The only words that held any meaning from him tonight. “I’m sorry.”
   “You’re awful…” You whimpered into his shoulder.
   “I know.”
   “You don’t deserve this…”
   “I know.”
   “You mean it….Don’t you?”
   “I do.”
   “Dammit…” You couldn’t help the soft laugh that left your lips and he couldn’t either. And within the span of a few seconds, you were both having a laughing fit as the rain came down harder and harder with the passing time.
   “I hate you.” You giggled, sitting up and wiping your eyes.
   “I know.” He smiled, sitting up with you. You got off him and held out your hand, which he mindlessly took.
   “You know this doesn’t mean I forgive you.”
   “I do. I don’t expect you to. I just wanted you to know.”
   “Good. Now let’s get back inside before Aizawa grasses our asses.” 
You both kept a firm hold of each other’s hand as you led him back inside. When you got to the hallway outside the hallway, you saw a very worried Midoriya pacing back and forth. You slowly let go of Bakugou’s hand and tiptoed up to the green haired individual, tapping his shoulders and laughing a bit at the rise you got out of him. 
   “There you are! I was getting worried, I had half a mind to get Aizawa out here to get you two to come back! Did you notice the rain?!” He cried, shaking your shoulders.
You only then noticed that you were completely drenched and you couldn’t help but burst into another laughing fit.
   “I didn’t even notice it was raining!” You sang, leaning your body against his as he only sighed and led you back inside.
   “Kacchan? You coming?” He asked, peeking his head back out the doorway.
   “Yeah, yeah, nerd. I’m comin’.” He hummed, hands in soaked pockets.
It wasn’t much. But it was a start.
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Text
ranking doctor whos, having never seen an episode, based entirely on this image
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15. fifth doctor
📳📳 what's that? 📳📳 hello? oh, it's princess diana, she called and she wants her hair back. brideshead revisited called they want their wardrobe back. the fifth doctor called he wants his eyebrows back!!!
14. ninth doctor
I understand this was probably a result of the same cultural context that produced the dark knight and casino royale but I absolutely HATE everything about this guy's vibe he looks like someone james bond would throw off a train in the first act
13. eighth doctor
alan rickman wax sculpture looking ass mf. dressed like a hobbit in the 1840s
12. twelfth doctor
2010s bbc gritty crime drama side character (derogatory)
11. thirteenth doctor
YAASSSS QUEEN GIVE US NOTHINGGG she looks like whatever the british equivalent of a soccer mom is, she looks like she idolizes kate middleton
10. sixth doctor
they tried too hard and as a result she's giving wonka
9. tenth doctor
I love you dt but you look SO bland just brown on brown on brown
8. second doctor
excuse me sir um I think your wig is on sideways
7. first doctor
did I do early us history in college for like a year yes but if you told me that this guy was president in the 1840s would I believe you also yes
6. fourteenth doctor
massive w for dt, the tie, the collar, the jacket, all slightly weird without going full victorian willy wonka hobbit
5. fifteenth doctor
*squidward voice* OH NO HE'S HOT. I can absoLUTEly feel the kenergy
4. third doctor
I'm a sucker for ruffles ok
3. seventh doctor
a cane with a question mark are you fucking kidding me?? and that gay little scarf and gay little hat?? she's giving—nay, SERVING nathan lane characterl
2. eleventh doctor
that man is literally an alien where did they even find him. this looks like you gave an AI image generator the prompt "eccentric alien man attempting to be a human but his only point of reference is jimmy neutron's dad"
1. fourth doctor
scarf guy!!!! nothing screams doctor who like twelve foot striped scarf in a muted autumnal palette
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Doctor Who, but Chronologically: 40
Okay, here we go boys: jumping ahead six years from Partition to 1953, the coronation of Queen Elizabeth Two, and wow, this episode hits extremely very differently when the last thing you watched was the Tale of the British Empire (Derogatory).
It's the Idiot's Lantern. At one point a character declares that even though they're losing the Empire, at least the coronation can still give us pride. Yikes.
Anyway, happily, we get Tennant and Rose, who have a lot of chemistry, but unfortunately this is a Mark Gatiss episode. Fortunately, it's edited by RTD, so it is much more interesting than it might have been. Unfortunately, it's still Gatiss trying to write a Spunky Woman, so inevitably, Rose has a shining moment of brilliance where she immediately spots that Evil TVs are stealing people's faces and wanders off to interview the guy responsible, only to be immediately imperilled and then absent for the rest of the episode, trapped inside a telly. Ah well. Could be worse, this could be Amy or River with Smith. Rose can at least pass the sexy lamp test. And doesn't get subjected to sentences like "Of course you're a psychopath, you're a woman."
So yeah, there's an alien that was executed, but rather than dying it made it into an electrical form and thence to 1950s televisions (this is not really explained.) It feeds on the electrical signals of human brains, which is pretty stupid, since it's inside TV sets which have a far higher voltage, but okay. It's planning to feed on the 20 million people who will watch the coronation, and thus have a body again. The Doctor thwarts it by... idk it's really unclear, just electrocuting it somehow in an extended scene that was way too thin on explanations to justify the number of "plot twists" it attempted. "Plot twist! Your wiring hasn't worked!" Okay but we are not electricians and this is fantasy electrical wiring, so this means nothing to us, Gatiss. Honestly though, as sci-fi plots go, it's... fine. Not amazing, but there are much worse.
The side plot revolves around one family - mum, dad, son and grandmother, except the grandmother is fed on and so doesn't have a face. In a series of very poorly acted and directed scenes, it is made painfully clear that the father is a violent domestic abuser, at one point promising to beat the gay out of his son. Nonetheless, in an absolutely baffling and utterly gross scene at the end, as his wife throws him out and he leaves in shame, Rose and the Doctor both tell the son that he nonetheless must forgive his abuser and make amends because "He's your dad." Rose even straight up says that not forgiving his abuser would make the son stupid. It is utterly, utterly unnecessary, and I am entirely baffled by what moral I was supposed to take away from it. I can only assume Gatiss was watching too much American telly when he wrote it? It's the sort of thing you see super commonly in American telly over here - "He's your dad! You have to forgive him, because he's your dad! Let's reconcile the strained father-son bond!" It's almost as common as a boxing episode, which American telly always has. Even Babylon 5 had a boxing episode. Even Leverage. They all do.
Anyway it's wank, and it takes what was otherwise a blandly inoffensive showing to Fuck Me What An Awful Episode.
Still no proper sign of why Rose is particularly special! I mean they have GREAT chemistry, but it's all in the acting, really, though it's increasingly clear that she's maybe the most people-focused of all of them (except Donna). Sigh. Maybe we'll get a non-Moffat/Gatiss Rose episode soon, and then we can finally know.
Meanwhile, shout out to the best actor of the whole episode: Cardiff, doing amazingly in it's starring role as Totally London, Honest. Funny story! I remember this episode being filmed, because my mate Emyr accidentally wandered into the street they used to film the street party, and had the surreal experience of going "Hang on... why are there flags? Why... is it the 50s? Am I in the 1950s? How has this happened? What's that box - oh it's the TARDIS I see what's happened."
(This has happened to me TWICE in St Ffagans and once in the Brangwyn Hall. Common South Walian experience.)
Ummm... no plot threads! I don't think. None resolved, none added. Well, that's about right for Gatiss.
“She” (an unknown person) is returning (perhaps River returned as Missy. Maybe Me? Maybe Clara???!)
There is something on Donna’s back
An entire planet, Pyrovilia, just… disappeared, somehow. (Maybe because the TARDIS is exploding??? Saturnine was also lost, and that WAS because of the TARDIS exploding. The lion man’s planet was also lost but he was a bit of a knob about it if I’m honest. The Thijarian planet was destroyed by some sort of impact)
Amy is maybe dead (she’s not)
The Doctor has been cubed (he’s out, but how?)
River is possibly blown up  (unless she’s Missy. Nope: she is definitely not blown up)
The TARDIS has blown up  (It’s fine now. Except it’s sort of melting now because it’s corrupted, but it’s fine again)
The universe appears to have ended  (the universe is back again)
The Doctor has employed(?) Nardole
(And Nardole was “reassembled???” Nardole had glass nipples and invisible hair?? WHAT THE FUCK IS HE)
There’s a vault in the TARDIS and it contains Missy but we don’t know why (sometimes she knocks for the bants)
There’s an immortal Viking girl now. Her name is Me and she’s now looking after the people the Doctor abandons
Why was Rory entirely unconcerned by the entire world suddenly going silent when that is Not Normal and should have been, at the very least, extremely disconcerting?
What did the Doctor do to Queen Lizzie One?
Why is Amy seeing a one-eyed woman in a vanishing window? (She’s with the Silents, but we don’t know why Amy saw her)
Why is Amy’s pregnancy inconclusive? (Maybe because the baby had Time Lord DNA?)
Who is Sarah-Jane Smith?
How is the Doctor Bill’s teacher and why/where does he have an office?
What is going on with the Cyber War and the Cyberium???
What happened with the Other Cyber War?
What happened with the Third War that deleted the void?
Why does Rose seem particularly important?
What order do these Doctors go in? (Eccleston, Tennant, uncertain, Smith, Capaldi, Whittaker)
Which companion just… forgot the Doctor, and how?
Yaz and Vinder are about to die as Mori/Mwri/Muuri
There is a Lupari shield around Earth.
What’s a Time War?
What’s the Rift?
What’s Bad Wolf?
In which war did the Doctor become a war criminal, and how?
Who is the Master?
Why has Amy forgotten Rory? How did she forget a Dalek invasion?
Is Rory plastic or not?
Why is the Doctor sulking on a cloud?
How exactly does the Doctor have a cloud?
What exactly happened with Strax to, uh, tame him?
Which friend killed Strax?
Which friend brought Strax back?
Where did this lesbian lizard and human couple come from?
What happened with Clara as Souffle Girl and the Daleks?
How does Clara actually join?
Why so many Claras?
Why is Missy apparently in robo-heaven?
Why is probably!Missy pushing Clara and the Doctor together?
What is Trensilor and what happened there?
Who is Handles?
The Doctor is about to be dissolved by a beautiful geode man
The universe is being crushed by the Flux
Will the Doctor open the fobwatch?
Sontarans are invading Earth again
Who is Kate?
Who is Osgood? Another name of Clara’s again?
The fuck is the deal with the Grand Serpent
Does Martha get to go to an ice cream planet with 12-fingered massage aliens?
How did the Doctor forget Clara?
Who is Bill’s puddle girlfriend Heather?
How did Nardole die?
When does Bill get Cyberman-ed and die?
When does the Doctor shrink and enter a Dalek called Rusty?
Whittaker is falling to her death rn
Was that ring relevant?
Does anyone know the Doctor’s name?
When did Yaz talk to Dan about fancying the Doctor?
When did Dan talk to the Doctor about fancying Yaz?
What’s happening with the bees?
What happened with Donna’s ex and a giant spider?
What war wiped out the Daleks, and is it one of the ones already mentioned?
What did the Doctor mean when he said “The (Daleks) always live, while I lose everything?”
If Dalek Caan is the last Dalek left why are there more now?
How did the rest of the Time Lords die?
How and why did Amy melt?
What’s the question that will make silence fall?
Why do the Silents… want silence to fall?
How and why are Silents at war with the Doctor when he… hasn’t even heard of them?
How does Hitler get out of the cupboard?
What’s the significance of fish fingers and custard?
Why does the Doctor feel guilt about Rose, Martha and Donna?
What happened with the space whale?
When does Rory defend Amy for 2000 years?
How does the Doctor survive River
How does he erase himself from history
Did Captain Jack lose his memories to the same people as the Doctor? What did he lose?
When did the Doctor send the Daleks into a void to save the universe?
What’s with the weird crack in the wall and is it affecting memories?
Why do Amy and Rory think the Doctor is dead?
Is Matt Smith’s Doctor a tree racist?
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variousqueerthings · 5 months
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I've just been spending the last few hours thinking about this ending that I haven't even thought about the whole rest of the episode, I've gotta. I've gotta just
oh boy I've gotta just fuckn
nothing about donna or fourteen or fifteen here just all the rest
1- at first I was thinking that the toymaker was defeated in kind of a simple way, but then on the other hand it's more a setup for some of the things we know is coming in ncuti gatwa's era, with classic!who gods. so the toymaker, yes, gives the opportunity to wrap up this past era and for DT to do those big sad wet eyes of his, but is far more for the next story's benefit in the long run from the sounds of things. also the behind-the-scenes for the game of catch is hilarious. NPH was so good, would be cool to see the toymaker make a reprise just with gatwa
2- ohhhhhhhhhh the Puppetry in this episode! PUPPETS! I am soooo into puppets, I could have spent a million episodes with these creepy fucking puppets, I hope we get more puppets
3- AND speaking of the toymaker, the master in the toymaker's tooth???? I haven't seen dhawan yet, so idk how that all ends, but I did not expect master setup, and I am very happy we did because the master is my favourite (derogatory, what a bitch)
4- RTD talking about the puppet that was broadcast on TV, I knew about that puppet (from getting a quiz answer wrong relatively recently lol), but giving that little historical Moment, now we all know a bit more, I just think it's neat
5- I am still not a fan of UNIT. every time we meet them they're a military force with weaponry that has the potential to do so much harm and... then they lose control of that weaponry. and also do weapons-related stuff that often makes the situation worse. I feel similarly of classic!UNIT who do manage to help out more on the whole, but still are fundamentally military and several times have people who do Bad Shit. dunno, still trying to figure out their place in this narrative other than convenient guns when we need guns. I want them to be more complicated if they come back for the next era, I'd be interested if shirley-ann bingham became a liz shaw type and really questions the limitations and biases that exist within UNIT
6- wait no, going back to point the first I'm soooo excited for the things they've hinted at, stories about gods are my whole damn jam, it's going to be amazing!
7- them playing the prime minister saying he doesn't care about anybody and donna goes "same as always" (or however she says it), listen, it's low-hanging fruit and I am eating it, anything dragging the british government and right wing sentiment is good and necessary for my soul personally
8- one really big Thing is no martha. will never get that closure RIP. argh though freema agyeman and ncuti gatwa could do great things together I think, cmon. one day
I'm sure more things will come up as I think about it, but off the top of my head
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ukrfeminism · 2 years
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A whistleblower has said orgies in the army are fairly common as she warned the recent incident at Merlville Baracks points to a wider culture of misogyny in the armed forces which views women as “lesser beings”.
Speaking exclusively to The Independent , the woman, who previously worked in recruitment for the British Army, said the institution often felt like a throwback to the 1950s.
It comes after a group of paratroopers were put under military police investigation after footage surfaced of them having an orgy with a civilian woman at Merville Barracks - a military base in Colchester.
Video clips, seen by The Independent, show a woman having sex with troops from 16 Air Assault Brigade while others watched. Some of the soldiers can be seen laughing.
In other clip, a man asks “have you had a go yet?”, while another troop salutes while having sex. The video, which includes some half-naked and fully naked soldiers, shows sexual acts occurring in both communal places and private rooms, but it is not immediately clear when it happened.
Talking to The Independent from a military estate where she lives with her husband who is in the army, the woman said an ex-soldier, who she hadn’t heard from in months, had sent her 11 unsolicited highly graphic videos of the incident at Merlville.
She found the footage “extremely distressing and disturbing” and said it gave her nightmares, explaining that even if the encounter was consensual, the fact the soldiers can be heard “laughing” and mocking the woman was “degrading”.
“It is misogynistic,” she added. “It is an embarrassment to the army. It shows a serious lack of professionalism and decent human behaviour in general.”
Her comments come as General Sir Patrick Sanders, the army’s new head, announced hundreds of paratroops were barred from a Nato deployment to the Balkans following the incident, because he was unwilling to “risk the mission or the reputation of the British army” by sending the troops abroad. 
But the whistleblower said stories of group sex similar to what occurred at Merlville, were commonpace in the army, claiming some soldiers would say such incidents were “normal”, insisting “it is just boys being boys”.
She added: “I find raising children in this environment very scary. Among many men in the army, there is the assumption women are joining the army for sex, or at least they must expect that to happen if they do join.
“I’ve seen a lot of slut-shaming. In general it is assumed that females in the military must be sleeping with multiple members of the Battalion.”
She described the armed forces as having a “very sexually charged culture” plagued with the commonly held view that women are “objects for the pleasure of men”.
The whistleblower said: “In my experience, the sexual culture is really rife when soldiers are young and living in the block. Sometimes women are snuck in inside the boot of people’s cars. The drinking culture is something else.
“You hear stories of single soldiers living on the block drinking every weekend, fights consistently happening, and property being damaged. When soldiers get married then it can move into swinging.”
Discussing her own negative experiences of working in military recruitment, she said she stepped down after facing sexual harassment, sexism and gender-based discrimination.
She said it felt “hyprocritical” being asked to encourage women to join the army given her own experiences.
The whistleblower added: “I’m not surprised women face sexual harassment and assault in the army given it starts in the recruitment process.
“The people who are doing the recruitment process are biased. They have judgements about women being in the army, they don’t believe they can do it. They refer to women in derogatory ways. They think the standards for women aren’t as high. They talk about the fact women have their periods.”
She claimed most of the male soldiers she encountered did not believe women should be in the army. The whisteblower said she was aware of around half a dozen women submitting complaints about sexual harssment, sexism and gender-based discrimination at one recruitment centre in particular
The whistleblower said she had met five women who say they were raped while serving in the military. She said women in senior roles were often referred to as having got their position “by sleeping their way there”, and explained when she made “an effort” with her appearance she was subjected to degrading sexual comments.
“Although the army has made all roles open to women, the army itself is not open to women,” she concluded. “You have to be willing to act like a man to be accepted. This means put up with discrimination, sexism, sexual harassment, and misogynistic jokes and banter about rape.”
She said the army fostered a culture where soldiers are expected to keep their wives or partners in line and tell them what to do. While her husband loves his job, he also thinks army attitudes towards women - both military and civilian - are outdated, the whistleblower said.
She added: “He will tell me before we go to a function, if higher ranking men are doing a speech, I must not go to the toilet, otherwise he could be given extra duties - which means getting crap jobs to do.
“When my husband helps with parenting, he is commonly told this should be my job and he is mocked and fellow soldiers question my motherhood skills.”
Issues within the army are easily concealed due to it being an insular environment, the whistleblower added, noting the armed forces take on many young men and women who are escaping difficult backgrounds.
She added: “It can be make or break. That environment can save them. But it is also very easy to teach an unacceptable culture rather than nurture them into decent human beings. 
“If you are brought up in an environment where abuse was normal, and then you join the army and nobody is saying: ‘No that is not okay’, or are actually actively allowing bad behaviour or not taking it seriously, it is very damaging to the soldiers.”
The woman’s comments come after senior figures previously told The Independent progress on tackling sexism and sexual harassment in the armed forces has been too slow and women in the military often face a sexist culture of “laddish behaviour”. Meanwhile, MPs have rasied concern that convictions rates for rape and sexual assault cases remain “shamefully low” in the military.
A troubling report released last year found sexual harassment, bullying and physical assault of women is prevalent in the armed forces.
Researchers, who polled 750 women veterans, discovered almost a quarter reported having experienced sexual harassment, while almost a quarter said they had been subjected to emotional bullying. The report, published in BMJ Military Health, found five per cent were sexually assaulted and three per cent physically assaulted.
Women make up around 11 per cent of the armed forces in the UK, according to Ministry of Defence data.
The army did not want to comment on the whisleblower’s allegations.
But in response to the Merlville incident, General Sanders said: “The recent conduct of some members of the battalion has fallen short of that which we all expect of our army”.
A spokesperson for the army added: “The army expects the highest standards of behaviour from all their personnel. Anyone not maintaining these standards will be investigated and appropriate action will be taken against them. The army is clear that all forms of unacceptable behaviour, including those of a sexual nature, have no place in an inclusive and respectful armed forces.”
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vampirevatican · 22 days
Text
Obey Me Headcanons
part 1: Language and Race/Ethnicity
DISCLAIMER: keep in mind this is with the thought of them being humans, or mainly for fun nd adding more melanin and culture specifics to the cast
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Lucifer
german white, no debating.
he knows every language and long dead languages
but don't you dare try to get him to understand slang
the second he uses it, it sounds weird coming from him and almost corporate
not that he doesn't know or understand the slang, it just doesn't suit him
Mammon
this is a black man. a light skinned black man.
not even talking on canon at this point, bc that's obvious
the confidence and amount of flirtation he exudes?? yeah this mfer knows he's pretty and therefore he's a light skin
because it's mammon, i think he knows languages from the richest countries or countries with the most casinos or game money related things?? (which could easily be all with how much he's been to the human world)
multilingual but ik this bastard doesn't practice and probably only knows how to get himself out of trouble, get around and flirt
Leviathan
who am i if i didn't say he knows english, japanese and korean
and obviously it's for the fandoms and content he enjoys
anyway he's blasian bc i make the rules, and there's enough stuff in canon to make me think this
either he's blasian or it's social/cultural osmosis from mammon, but he doesn't use aave wrong...
don't ask me how ik, you just had to be there
anyway if he was white he'd be pasty af, but bc of my blasian headcanon he's a bit tanned and yet not a lightskin
Satan
another given but he is multilingual, even knowing dead languages (overachiever/in the pursuit of knowledge)
white, but slavic
russian specifically
as badly as i wanna say he's pale? i can't bring myself to do that, so average
Asmodeus
white yes, but french
yes it's because the french language is associated with love why else
i wanna say he knows living languages bc i can see him meddling with humans quite often
this mfer started a war just to goof
skin tone?? a little bit of color to him, bc he's not a homebody
Beelzebub & Belphgor
Hispanic, specifically afro-latinx
They know spanish, latin and english
Now do i like the concept of one of them being lighter toned? yes but not light skinned
these two don't have that energy so
beel is brown, belphie is dark
bonus points for vitiligo belphie (yes cowboy/bull things and demon transformation)
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Diavolo
latin. hispanic... this one is a no brainer
ofc he speaks latin, spanish and english but mainly uses english bc he hears that it's the most used language
he is, technically, lightskin but it's not lightskin (derogatory)... do you understand??
he has a charm but it's not like he knows that for certain and is flaunting it the way mammon or asmo would
Barbatos
because of a name like this... id like for him to be black, but a dear friend raises the thought of him being asian
so yes another blasian or just asian, specifically from china
this suits him not only because he looks good in a montsuki (male kimono) but because of age
he is simply, one hell of a butler
if we're going with just asian, i wanna say not pasty skin tone but like... definitely fair
if blasian? then dark skin, i just think it'd go nice on him with his color palette
Simeon and Luke
A dark skinned mother and her black baby
Luke is a sassy but sweet child, i wanna say he's brown skinned or the same tone as simeon?
Simeon is a dark skinned, beautiful, man and you will never take that from me
Luke is learning other languages but he knows english, spanish and japanese
Simeon is multilingual, it only makes sense to me
Solomon
and... solomon is white
definitely learning dead languages at this point but please don't ask him to translate everything
he knows english easily bc it's his native tongue, specifically BRITISH/OLD ENGLISH
but anything else takes the gears in his mind to start churning so he can't just take something in mandarin and quickly translate it to english
he's pasty... again im biased so not as pasty as levi (if we go with white levi canon) but he's close
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