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aphroditelovesu · 7 months

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Kinktober Day Twelve — Exhibitionism

❝ — 🍷 lady l: day twelve of kinktober!! I hope you like it!! Also, art is not mine, credit to the creators, unfortunately, I couldn't find them. Sorry for any mistakes ❤️

❝🍷pairing: yandere!dionysus x female!reader.

❝warnings: smut, NSFW, vaginal sex, exhibitionism, oral sex (male receiving).

❝🍷word count: 1,130.

In ancient times, in the leafy hills of Greece, a fervent worship followed Dionysus, the god of wine, the party and ecstasy. Each spring, when the first sunbeams began to heat the earth, his followers gathered in ecstasy to celebrate his God in a spectacle known as Bacchanal.

The place chosen for this celebration was a clear in the heart of the forest, where centenary trees rose majestically around a rustic altar. Dressed with purple tunics and vine garlands tangled in his hair, followers of Dionysus danced and intoned songs in honor of the god of wine.

As the wine flowed freely into ceramic glasses, joy and passion took over everyone. Musicians played flutes and drums, and the flames of a large bonfire crackled in the center of the circle, casting a dancing light on the ecstatic faces of the participants.

Dionysus was represented by a young man, often chosen for his beauty and grace. He personified the god, and his followers paid homage to him, offering him grapes and wine. In the midst of the celebration, a reverential silence fell over the place when the young Dionysus ascended the altar and, in a gesture of divine communion, shared the wine with those present.

As the night progressed, the atmosphere became more intense and liberating. Followers danced barefoot, losing themselves in an ecstasy that connected them directly with the divine. It didn't matter their social origin, everyone was equal before Dionysus.

The Bacchanal of Dionysus was a tribute to the joy, vitality and strength of nature. In those moments of celebration, followers disconnected from the concerns of the everyday world, surrendering themselves to the power of the god of wine, in a search for spiritual transcendence through the party. And so, every spring, the Greek hills were filled with the singing, dancing and euphoria of Dionysus' devotees, in a festival that reminded everyone of the importance of celebrating life and the passion it offers.

You always knew that Dionysus was an armed exhibitionist and never had problems with that. Part because you were one too, but the idea of letting him fuck you in front of his followers was at least strange and a little uncomfortable.

His followers are all drunk, as they were always in the festivities, and they would hardly remember that, but you were still not sure.

Dionysus, however, already knew what he wanted and he always got what he wanted.

You on your knees and sucking him until you beg for him to fuck you in front of his followers. And he intended to accomplish this fantasy.

Dionysus stroked your face and removed a lock of hair from your eye and admired their color for a moment.

"On your knees." He said in an authoritarian way and you, not knowing how to react, obeyed him and fell on your knees to your God. You stuck your hand under his chiton and you stroked him as you felt his cock hard.

You approached more and pulled the chiton's fabric to the side, giving the complete sight of his cock for you. You could feel your salivary mouth and, without caring about the others, you licked the tip timidly. Your tongue moistened to the glans of his cock and Dionysus gasped.

You took his cock with your hand and suck him, swallowing the maximum of the length of the god you could handle. What was not fit in your mouth, you took with your hand and made light movements from top to bottom.

"F-Fuck!" Dionysus moaned and stroked your hair. The vision of you on your knees for him and sucking his cock was very delicious. He looked to the side and saw his followers observe you with interest. He smiled at them and drank a sip of his glass of wine.

You removed it from your mouth with an obscene sound and smiled to the god, your lips wet. You squeezed his cock and licked all the length, your tongue lingering on the glans. Dionysus moaned loudly and pulled you through the hair, forcing you to stop sucking it.

"Take off your clothes." He ordered and you, hesitantly, obeyed and slid your chiton through your body, giving the vision of your nakedness to all presents. Contrary to what you imagined, it filled you with desire and your core throbbed.

Dionysus removed his own chiton and stood naked too, he sat in the chair and slapped it lightly on his thigh. You understood what you should do and slowly, you took his shoulders, balancing, and after adjusting a little, your pussy was dangerously close to his dick.

"Ride me, sweetie." He whispered and you went down slowly, your cunt swallowing Dionysus's cock as you thrust his cock on you. You took a deep breath and moaned, feeling full. Dionysus grabbed your hip and gave a little push up, causing you to squirm with pleasure.

You moaned and squeezed the broad shoulders of the god and without caring about the crowd that watched you intently, you ride him. Your breasts moved as you moved your body and Dionysus kissed your neck, still squeezing your hip.

You whined when the god sucked the skin with a little force, definitely leaving a mark. You squeezed his shoulders and ride his cock frantically. Your cunt sucking his cock, your body receiving waves of pleasure with every move.

Dionysus looked around and smirked at his followers, who faced you with lust. Some drank his wine, others ate grapes and others kissed and touched.But they all had one thing in common, they never took the gaze from you.

"Your pussy is so good, princess!" Dionysus moaned and squeezed your waist, his head tucked between your breasts and licking your nipple from your left breast. You whimpered and felt your climax approach.

Dionysus threw his head back and moaned your name as he came inside you, his cum filling your tight pussy. You moaned and moving quickly on his cock, you came, your pussy clenching around him, cumming on his cock.

You clutched to the god, your body shaking a little. You did not dare look at others, not wanting to know what they were doing.

Dionysus lazily began to move inside you, his hip pushing up slowly. You looked up and looked at him in his eyes. He smirked.

"Our joke is just starting, princess." He drank a sip of his wine and kept moving his hip slowly. You moaned and grabbed him harder.

His followers never ceasing to look at his body.

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #kinktober day 12 #greek mythology #greek gods #yandere greek mythology #yandere greek gods #dionysus x reader #yandere dionysus #yandere dionysus x reader #smut

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pusssydesigned · 7 months

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𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐚 𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐬

a/n: @cinnamoncunt came up with the lovely idea of an agora hills fic about joseph 🥹🥲 such a lovely idea thank you sososo much 🫧🩵🤍🪽 i sorta went off track coz ive wanted to write a loveydovey fic like this for so long 😭

warnings: smut (voyeurism, oral [m+f receiving], p in v. creampies, alll that good stuff) camcorders and cameras, sex tapes, just love and fluff and happy lovers doing what happy lovers do!!! no description of readers race, ethnicity, or career so feel free to insert yourself however you want! lowercase intended <3

“𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡��𝐩𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐮𝐬… 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭… 𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐟𝐟! <𝟑”

dating joseph quinn is not for the weak, and dating you isn’t for the weak either. bitter fans left and right, watching your every move. everywhere you go there’s paps or fans ambushing you to know the lastest details of your relationship. “are you and joseph gonna tie the knot?” “where’s joseph?” “where’s y/n?” “are yall still together?” “are you gonna knock her up soon?” opening social media (especially twitter) is like a death wish. none of his fans or your fans are flattered by your relationship, but you and joseph couldn’t give two fucks. your love for each other was so deep and intimate no one else could compare or come in between you two. month long trips around europe, beautiful dinners in private restaurants, constant gifts, red carpet events, and an out of this world sex life couldn’t compare to anything you’ve experienced in a relationship.

at some point you end up not caring. more paparazzi pics are spread around of you and joseph desperately kissing and grabbing onto each other, hoping to get caught. you want to show him off, and he most definitely wants the world to know your his and only his. his hands grabbing at your ass when your at events or clubs together. his love is always and forever, deep and intimate.

every post on your instagram is a subtle brag about your lovely, sexy, beautiful, and sweet man. you could go on and on for days about joseph. his eyes, his smile, his aura, everything about him.

the expensive (but thoughtful and meaningful) gifts he rewards you with never fail to blow your mind. tennis bracelets and rolls royce’s or a simple night out for holidays and birthdays never cease to amaze you. real gold chains coming together when he’s on top of you, smothering you in thousands of kisses. don’t forget the shopping sprees at any store you want, at anytime.

quiet dinners off the coast of greece at night. barefoot because you couldn’t stand wearing heels the rest of the night. feeding each other pasta and fish while you caress his calves with your foot. you hold hands and smoke your vogue slims, and he smokes his hand rolled cigarettes while watching the waves crash into the rocks. walking back home and slowly stripping down to nothing for a shower and bed. these nights always end with lovemaking and light touches and kisses.

your month long trips always include a camcorder and desperate moans filling your penthouse suite at least ten times. he eats you from the back so good and he always makes sure he gets your puckered hole to have your toes curling and your body shaking. your mouth always feels so good on him. sucking his tip and both balls into your mouth, leaving him shaking and losing control. fucking your face every chance he gets. getting fucked on the balcony while yall are moaning out i love you’s and groaning at the sheer pleasure of it all. you make sure to watch the tapes back so yall could do all over again, nastier and even more passionate. your birth control is a saving grace everytime yall get too lost in each other and joseph swears he’s “gonna fuck a baby into you” or “knock you up” after every creampie. and don’t forget the quickies in the bathrooms. a quick blowjob to get him ready for later in the day when y’all are alone… or have an alleyway.

you swear you’re gonna marry him one day. he’s so different from the rest. it didn’t matter if you had to get used to your fans or his fans treating your relationship as a spectacle to fuel their misery. the love you have for each other transcends anything else in the entire universe.

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #joseph quinn #joseph quinn fic #eddie munson fic #joe quinn #joseph quinn smut #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn fluff #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn imagine #joseph quinn brainrot #joseph quinn blurb

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najia-cooks · 8 months

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[ID: Two triangles of baklava garnished with ground pistachio and whole cloves, with a silver Moroccan tea set in the background. End ID]

μπακλαβάς / Baklava

Baklava is a layered pastry consisting of a filling of chopped nuts piled between thin sheets of dough and sweetened with syrup. It is of contested and potentially ancient origin, with similar pastries attested in modern-day Turkey, Greece, and Assyria. Today, many regional variations of the pastry exist throughout North Africa and West and Central Asia.

This Greek-style recipe layers a spiced walnut filling between sheets of homemade filo dough, then soaks them in a sugar-honey syrup flavored with cinnamon, clove, and lemon. The resulting pastry is flaky, flavorful, and über-sweet.

Recipe under the cut!

Patreon | Tip jar

Ingredients:

For the dough:

4 2/3 cup (560g) bread flour

1/2 cup + 1 Tbsp (133mL) olive oil

1 Tbsp + 2 tsp red wine vinegar

About 1 - 1 1/3 cup (240 - 320g) lukewarm water

3/4 cup (165g) butter or non-dairy margarine, melted, for brushing

For the filling:

400g walnuts (or hazelnuts, shelled pistachios, and/or blanched almonds)

1/4 cup (35g) breadcrumbs

1 1/2 tsp ground cinnamon (1/2 cassia cinnamon stick)

1 1/2 tsp ground cloves (18 / 1.5g whole cloves)

Greek baklava most commonly uses walnuts, though pistachios are also used. You may experiment with nuts of your choice.

The breadcrumbs help to soak up the syrup evenly and prevent sogginess.

For the syrup:

2 1/2 cups (500g) vegetarian granulated sugar

1 1/2 cups (355mL) water

1/4 cup (80g) agave nectar or honey

1 tsp orange blossom water (optional)

Peel of one lemon

1 cassia cinnamon stick

3 whole cloves

Instructions:

For the dough:

1. Combine flour and salt in a large mixing bowl. Add the vinegar and olive oil and mix to combine.

2. Gradually add a scant cup of water and continue to mix until the dough just comes together. Continue to knead, by hand or with a stand mixer and dough hook attachment, until the dough becomes smooth and elastic, about five minutes. If the dough does not come together, add additional water 1 tsp at a time. The dough should not be sticky.

3. Divide the dough into small balls of about 40g each (for a 13" x 9" pan). You may decide to make the dough balls slightly larger if you’re a beginner at working with thin dough.

4. Coat each dough ball with some olive oil and cover. Allow to rest for at least an hour, to allow gluten to form and facilitate rolling out later.

For the syrup:

1. Scrub a lemon thoroughly and remove the outer layer of peel with a knife or vegetable peeler. Heat sugar, water, lemon peel, cinnamon, and cloves in a large pot over medium heat until simmering. Stir to dissolve sugar and continue to simmer for about 5 minutes.

2. Remove from heat and stir in honey and orange blossom water. Allow to cool to room temperature, then refrigerate.

For the filling:

1. Blanch almonds by boiling them for about a minute, draining, and pinching gently to remove their skins. Shell pistachios. Chop nuts, or use a food processor, to achieve a coarse grind (you don't want a powder!).

2. Toast and grind whole spices, if using. Combine nuts with breadcrumbs and spices in a mixing bowl and set aside.

To assemble:

Baklava is made by interspersing thin sheets of dough with butter and nut filling to create flaky layers. Several sheets of dough will be needed at the top and bottom to prevent the weight of the nuts from causing the pastry to collapse. Some cooks add all of the nut filling between two groups of filo dough, while others intersperse the nuts throughout.

1. Melt margarine in a small saucepan or in the microwave. Using a pastry brush, coat the bottom and sides of a 9 x 13" baking dish in margarine.

2. On a lightly oiled surface, roll out one ball of dough into a rectangle a little larger than the bottom of your baking dish (it will relax as it transferred). Place the sheet in the bottom of the dish, gently stretching it into the corners. Don't worry too much about small holes—there will be many layers!

3. Gently drizzle and brush melted margarine over the sheet of dough.

4. Repeat this process 4 more times, for a total of 5 sheets interspersed with margarine. I placed each sheet on top of the previous one on the counter and waited to transfer them to the pan until I had rolled out all four. You may need to re-oil your working surface as you go.

5. Add just enough nut filling mixture to form a thin layer.

6. Roll out another two sheets of dough and brush them with margarine as before. Add another layer of nuts. Repeat until the nut mixture is gone, making sure to reserve at least five balls of dough for the top.

7. Roll out and place the remaining balls of dough and brush them with margarine as before.

8. Refrigerate for 10-15 minutes to make the baklava easier to cut. Using a sharp knife, cut the baklava into diamonds by cutting in lines diagonally in one direction, and then diagonally in another direction to form points at an acute angle; or, form triangles by cutting lengthwise and then widthwise to form squares, and then diagonally to cut those squares in half. Stick a whole clove in the center of each piece of baklava, if you like.

9. Bake at 300 °F (150 °C) for an hour to an hour and a half, until the top of the pastry is golden brown.

10. Remove from the oven and allow to cool for about 10 minutes. Pour the cooled syrup evenly over the surface of the baklava. Don't add the syrup warm, or it may make the baklava soggy!

11. Allow the syrup to absorb for several hours, or overnight.

#baking #baklava #Greek #walnuts #pistachios #almonds #breadcrumbs #bread flour

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dracula-dictionary · 10 months

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Dracula Dictionary, July 18th

Varna: a large city in Bulgaria, on the coast of the Black Sea

Whitby: a seaside town in the north of England

silver sand: a fine white sand used in gardening

Bosphorus: The Bosporus Strait, cuts through Istanbul to connect the Black Sea to the Sea of Marmara

Backsheesh: a tip, or a bribe paid to expedite services

Dardanelles: a strait that connects the Sea of Marmara to the Mediteranean Sea

Cape Matapan: the southernmost point of Greece

larboard: the left side of a ship

eight bells: referencing the ship's bell that is rung to time watches, with eight strikes per four hour watch. likely meaning 8pm here

deck-house: a cabin on top of a ship's deck

companion-way: a stairway or ladder that leads from one deck to another

bows: the frontmost point of a ship

hatchway: an opening in the deck

allay: calm, put to rest

stem: the most forward part of the bow

stern: the backmost part of the ship

handspike: a wooden bar, typically used in a capstan to raise the anchor

helm: the ship's wheel for steering

abreast: side by side

#finally some good words that actually need explaining #words failed me on the handspike though so you get a picture #dracula daily #re: dracula #dracula dictionary #18 july #dracula daily 18 july #dracula dictionary 18 july

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bucky-barnes-diaries · 2 years

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By The Poolside

Pairing || TFATWS!Bucky x Female!Reader

Summary || You can’t help but drool over your man as he emerges from the pool like the sex God he is. His delicious muscles dripping and glistening with water has you wanting to lick him all up like the tasty snack he is.

Word Count || 937

Contents & Warnings || Smut & slight Fluff — NSFW, 18+ Only, Minors DNI, explicit content/language, sexual thoughts, slight Sub!Bucky, pet names (doll, baby), oral (male receiving), grinding, begging, body worship, praise kink, slight nipple action, teasing, cum swallowing, mention of bodily fluids.

Authors Note || It’s not perfect but I wanted to do a “summer” inspired fic, but of course being me, it has to be smutty :P

Disclaimer || English is not my first language so I apologise for any mistakes or misunderstandings!

TFATWS!Bucky Masterlist

I don’t do taglists anymore so please follow @bucky-barnes-diaries-library and turn on notifications to never miss out on my writing!

Mykonos, Greece || 1.37 PM || 32 °C

It was such an unbearable hot day today that the only logical thing for you and Bucky to do on the last day of your trip was to swim and lounge by the private pool that came with your hotel suite—shielded from the scorching sun and the other tourists.

You were laying on the sun bed in your pretty bikini, with a book in hand, while Bucky was swimming laps in the pool to cool himself down and get in his daily workout.

Every once in a while, you would sneak a peek at him from the top of your book—observing how his powerful and muscular arms drove him forward in the pool with each stroke.

Bucky was such a God of a man in every aspect—physique, sex, kindness, and everything else in between. You were so blessed and lucky to have someone like him you could call yours—your best friend, lover, partner, family.

But right about now, all you could think about was the sex God aspect of him as you enjoyed the show in front of you.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Your pussy screamed as he emerged from the pool in slow-mo like they do in movies. The water dripping down his toned and muscular body had your pussy dripping as well. His arm muscles became more defined and pronounced as he pulled himself up by the handles on the pool ladder. The vibranium arm was shining as the sun reflected on the metallic surface.

And his abs… absolutely delicious. You wanted to run your fingers from his chest and down his abs—feeling every crevice of the muscles underneath your fingertips… and then feel him down even further.

He combed his fingers through his hair, making it slick back, as he approached the sun beds. He noticed your ogling eyes at him, and he couldn't help but chuckle at your expression—like you were looking at the most perfect masterpiece that ever existed (which you were).

“Like what you see, doll?”

“Mhm.”

“Well,” he plopped down on the bed next to yours and gestured to his body, “it's all yours, baby.”

Yeah, it was—all yours to take and taste as you pleased.

You got up from your bed and straddled him. Legs on each side of his hips while your clothed core came in contact with his covered bulge. Bucky moaned when you found your place on him. His colossal hands took a tight grip on your luscious thighs.

“You look so pretty in your bathing suit, doll….”

His hands travel from your thighs, over your hips until they reach your waist. His touches made shivers run down your spine. You slowly start to rock back and forth on his clothed cock—moaning at your clit being stimulated and him letting out a grunt as his cock hardened beneath you. Bucky’s hands find their final resting place on your ass, gripping the flesh tightly, aiding your movements on him.

“…and so sexy like the fucking Goddess you are.”

You leaned down to kiss him, tasting his tongue against yours. “I want to taste you, all of you, Bucky,” you whispered against his lips. The tip of your tongue poked out to lick his bottom one.

Bucky closed his eyes in delight as you graced his jawline with your lips and peppered kisses on the tender spot of his neck before you began your journey downwards.

You gave each of his nipples a kitten lick, making a groggy groan sound in his throat. You giggled at how responsive he was to your touches.

“You want me to keep going?”

“Oh, p-please, doll.”

You continued down his torso, altering between licking and kissing his wet skin as you went lower and lower—towards the end goal. Your fingertips slowly traced his muscles as you went along.

“Oh, Bucky,” you found a comfortable place between his legs—face inches from his clothed cock and your ass poking out behind you, making Bucky have the best view of his life, “already so hard for me? I barely touched you,” you teased.

You wasted no time taking off his swimming shorts—wanting to see his full and hard cock. He always had you in awe, never getting used to how perfect he was for you.

Bucky let out a long, satisfying sigh as you grabbed his base and licked his tip to collect the pre-cum with your tongue.

Not wasting any more time, you took his whole length into your mouth, making Bucky suck in a deep breath. You hollowed your cheeks as you sucked him like a delicious icy popsicle. His hand rested on your head as he slightly forced you down with each stroke. His eyes struggled to keep open to watch you work that magic on him.

You moaned around him, sending vibrations through his spine, making him shiver on the sun bed. You loved having him on your tongue as much as he did—living for his taste.

As you bobbed your head on him, hand fondling his balls, his sensitive tip hitting the back of your throat repeatedly sent him over the edge.

“Fuck,” he deeply cried as his cum coated the inside of your mouth—trickling down your throat. You didn't stop until he was completely satisfied—swallowing every single drop of him.

His cock left your lips with a pop, and he groaned when you showed him your empty cavity—no trace of him left.

“You taste so good, baby.”

You grinned up at him while he had the biggest smile on his face—so happy and content.

“You're so incredible, doll, you know that?”

“I know.”

Thank you for reading 🖤 Feedback through a comment is highly appreciated! Or let me know through an anonymous ask if that feels more comfortable. As well as a reblog to share my work with other people!

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ausetkmt · 10 months

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Video shows migrants waiting before ill-fated migrant boat voyage

03:41 - Source: CNN

CNN —

The hull of the fishing trawler lifted out of the water as it sank, catapulting people from the top deck into the black sea below. In the darkness, they grabbed onto whatever they could to stay afloat, pushing each other underwater in a frantic fight for survival. Some were screaming, many began to recite their final prayers.

“I can still hear the voice of a woman calling out for help,” one survivor of the migrant boat disaster off the coast of Greece told CNN. “You’d swim and move floating bodies out of your way.”

With hundreds of people still missing after the overloaded vessel capsized in the Mediterranean on June 14, the testimonies of those who were onboard paint a picture of chaos and desperation. They also call into question the Greek coast guard’s version of events, suggesting more lives could have been saved, and may even point to fault on the part of Greek authorities.

Rights groups allege the tragedy is both further evidence and a result of a new pattern in illegal pushbacks of migrant boats to other nations’ waters, with deadly consequences.

This boat was carrying up to 750 Pakistani, Syrian, Egyptian and Palestinian refugees and migrants. Only 104 people have been rescued alive.

CNN has interviewed multiple survivors of the shipwreck and their relatives, all of whom have wished to remain anonymous for security reasons and the fear of retribution from authorities in both Greece and at home.

One survivor from Syria, whom CNN is identifying as Rami, described how a Greek coast guard vessel approached the trawler multiple times to try to attach a rope to tow the ship, with disastrous results.

“The third time they towed us, the boat swayed to the right and everyone was screaming, people began falling into the sea, and the boat capsized and no one saw anyone anymore,” he said. “Brothers were separated, cousins were separated.”

Another Syrian man, identified as Mostafa, also believes it was the maneuver by the coast guard that caused the disaster. “The Greek captain pulled us too fast, it was extremely fast, this caused our boat to sink,” he said.

The Hellenic Coast Guard has repeatedly denied attempting to tow the vessel. An official investigation into the cause of the tragedy is still ongoing.

Coast guard spokesman Nikos Alexiou told CNN over the phone last week: “When the boat capsized, we were not even next to (the) boat. How could we be towing it?” Instead, he insisted they had only been “observing at a close distance” and that “a shift in weight probably caused by panic” had caused the boat to tip.

The Hellenic Coast Guard has declined to answer CNN’s specific requests for response to the survivor testimonies.

Direct accounts from those who survived the wreck have been limited, due to their concerns about speaking out and the media having little access to the survivors. CNN interviewed Rami and Mostafa outside the Malakasa migrant camp near Athens, where journalists are not permitted entry.

The Syrian men said the conditions on board the migrant boat deteriorated fast in the more than five days after it set off from Tobruk, Libya, in route to Italy. They had run out of water and had resorted to drinking from storage bottles that people had urinated in.

“People were dying. People were fainting. We used a rope to dip clothes into the sea and use that to squeeze water on people who had lost consciousness,” Rami said.

CNN’s analysis of marine traffic data, combined with information from NGOs, merchant vessels and the European Union border patrol agency, Frontex, suggests that Greek authorities were aware of the distressed vessel for at least 13 hours before it eventually sank early on June 14.

The Greek coast guard has maintained that people onboard the trawler had refused rescue and insisted they wanted to continue their journey to Italy. But survivors, relatives and activists say they had asked for help multiple times.

Earlier in the day, other ships tried to help the trawler. Directed by the Greek coast guard, two merchant vessels – Lucky Sailor and Faithful Warrior – approached the boat between 6 and 9 p.m. on June 13 to offer supplies, according to marine traffic data and the logs of those ships. But according to survivors this only caused more havoc onboard.

“Fights broke out over food and water, people were screaming and shouting,” Mostafa said. “If it wasn’t for people trying to calm the situation down, the boat was on the verge of sinking several times.”

By early evening, six people had already died onboard, according to an audio recording reviewed by CNN from Italian activist Nawal Soufi, who took a distress call from the migrant boat at around 7 p.m. Soufi’s communication with the vessel also corroborated Mostafa’s account that people moved from one side of the boat to the other after water bottles were passed from the cargo ships, causing it to sway dangerously.

The haunting final words sent from the migrant boat came just minutes before it capsized. According to a timeline published by NGO Alarm Phone they received a call, at around 1:45 a.m., with the words “Hello my friend… The ship you send is…” Then the call cuts out.

The coast guard says the vessel began to sink at around 2 a.m.

The next known activity in the area, according to marine traffic data, was the arrival of a cluster of vessels starting around 3 a.m. The Mayan Queen superyacht was the first on the scene for what soon became a mass rescue operation.

Human rights groups say the authorities had a duty to act to save lives, regardless of what people on board were saying to the coast guard before the migrant boat capsized.

“The boat was overcrowded, was unseaworthy and should have been rescued and people taken to safety, that’s quite clear,” UNHCR Special Envoy for the Central Mediterranean Vincent Cochetel told CNN in an interview. “There was a responsibility for the Greek authorities to coordinate a rescue to bring those people safely to land.”

Cochetel also pointed to a growing trend by countries, including Greece, to assist migrant boats in leaving their waters. “That’s a practice we’ve seen in recent months. Some coastal states provide food, provide water, sometimes life jackets, sometimes even fuel to allow such boats to continue to only one destination: Italy. And that’s not fair, Italy cannot cope with that responsibility alone.”

Survivors who say the coast guard tried to tow their boat say they don’t know what the aim was.

There have been multiple documented examples in recent years of Greek patrol boats engaging in so-called “pushbacks” of migrant vessels from Greek waters in recent years, including in a CNN investigation in 2020.

“It looks like what the Greeks have been doing since March 2020 as a matter of policy, which is pushbacks and trying to tow a boat to another country’s water in order to avoid the legal responsibility to rescue,” Omer Shatz, legal director of NGO Front-LEX, told CNN. “Because rescue means disembarkation and disembarkation means processing of asylum requests.”

Pushbacks are state measures aimed at forcing refugees and migrants out of their territory, while impeding access to legal and procedural frameworks, according to the Berlin-based European Center for Constitutional and Human Rights (ECCHR). They are a violation of international law, as well as European regulations.

And such measures do not appear to have deterred human traffickers whose businesses prey on vulnerable and desperate migrants.

In an interview with CNN last month, then Greek Prime Minister Kyriakos Mitsotakis denied that his country engaged in intentional pushbacks and described them as a “completely unacceptable practice.” Mitsotakis is widely expected to win a second term in office in Sunday’s election, after failing to get an outright majority in a vote last month.

A series of Greek governments have been criticized for their handling of migration policy, including conditions in migrant camps, particularly following the 2015-16 refugee crisis, when more than 1 million people entered Europe through the country.

For those who lived through last week’s sinking, the harrowing experience will never be forgotten.

Mostafa and Rami both say they wish they had never made the journey, despite the fact they are now in Europe and are able to claim asylum.

Most of all, Mostafa says, he wishes the Greek coast guard had never approached their boat: “If they had left us be, we wouldn’t have drowned.”

#‘If they had left us be #we wouldn’t have drowned:’ CNN investigation raises questions about Greek coast guard’s account of shipwreck tragedy #greek coast guard #greece #brown skin #white privilege #racism in immigration #africans #european racism

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gfawkesphoenixchokingonashes · 14 days

Text

The Shield Bearer - Rated E, WWII Stucky, Canon era, Hurt/Comfort

It wasn’t that Bucky was staring at Steve’s ass, per se. It was the item in the man’s back pocket that held his gaze; the paperback Steve read whenever they stopped to rest, eyes gone distant as he pondered its contents. Bucky couldn’t help but see his Steve Rogers in that dreamy face.

The book was there now even as Steve graciously and generously doled out handshakes and cheek kisses. Bucky observed that his hand went to it exactly twenty-two times to reassure himself it was still there. He also noticed that Steve seemed completely sober.

He’d always been a lightweight, literally, back home. One good swig of a beer would damn near make him tip over. Two cans in, and he’d have been falling down on his face. Bucky had lost track of the times he’d picked Steve up by the scruff of his neck and marched him home before he picked a fight he couldn’t win.

“Whatcha doin,’ Buck?” he’d complain, tripping over his feet to keep up. “I’m fine, I tell ya!’ Fine!”

Bucky would shake his head and guide Steve out of traffic and back onto the sidewalk. “Sure ya’ are, pal.”

It wasn’t like that now. Bucky had witnessed with his own eyes as the man downed six cans in a matter of minutes to quench his thirst. And then a glass of something that smelled stronger than gasoline was pushed into his hand. Then another. And another. And still Steve looked out of the clearest blue-green eyes as he checked for Bucky’s location.

It was unnatural.

It was also infuriating. Why did Steve have to keep looking at him like that? He had everything he wanted; fame, money, admiration. Everyone thought him a hero; he could practically take on the whole of the Axis countries himself. What was so important about a loser he once knew back in New York?

Bucky moved further away, stationing himself by the exit behind a chattering, guffawing group of soldiers. They were leaning against each other and laughing, racing along in their own tongue and ignoring Bucky.

But Steve found him once again, with that large hand on his hip, checking that the book sat snug in the tightness of his stupid uniform. He’d repositioned between two men who had begun to sing at raucous decibels, trying to connect with Bucky’s soul.

And Bucky felt it then, the twist in his chest that had nothing to do with hunger. He’d skipped the alcohol and figs and bread, knowing full well that others needed it more than he. No, this was something to do with matters of the heart.

Bucky was proud of Steve. The bastard.

The woman who grabbed Steve’s arm next was gorgeous. In fact, every woman they’d met since arriving in Greece was. Her hair was a sleek brown and her eyes warm and she gazed up at Steve like he was —

Bucky had to get out of there. Fast.

It was cooler outside between the two-story buildings. The alley was narrow and open to the stars. Bucky hurried to the end, turning onto the dusty street, hoping Steve had been too preoccupied to see him go.

He walked fast. It was dark now. The city was under the protection of the rebels, so he needn’t worry about running into the enemy. The problem was the enemy was also himself.

Maybe he could lose himself for a while. Find an unoccupied corner for a few hours, a patch of ground that was his alone. Maybe he could unscramble these feelings he had. Get a grip on something he didn’t understand at all.

A few streets away, he encountered a woman with sun-wrinkled skin, her gray hair covered in a shawl, carrying a lamp and a full bag swung over her shoulder. She took one look at Bucky and froze. Her hand covered her mouth and she began backing away. But not before she gave him a lashing at the top of her voice.

Bucky held up his hands to signal he wasn’t a threat, but it was too late. She’d already determined he was untrustworthy. Around them, people began gathering. Apparently, she’d sounded the alarm, and they’d come to her rescue.

Two stern-looking gentlemen approached without fear while the woman continued to shout. It was clear they intended to confront him. Bucky struggled for the words that Gabe had attempted to teach him.

“Friend!” he tried in what he knew to be a horrible accent. “America! Soldier!”

The men recognized the last word, for their intent to protect solidified on their concerned faces. If Bucky didn’t identify himself soon, if he wasn’t successful in convincing them he meant no harm —

Too late, he was caught. Strong hands held him back as the crowd approached. It didn’t look good at all.

And then?

A voice. Impossibly deep, a rumble of thunder that parted the throng and commanded their attention.

Eyes swiveled, heads turned as the newcomer pushed his way through. He was speaking their language, and they were listening. And when the man slapped a gigantic hand to Bucky’s shoulder and smiled like the fucking sun, the two men released their hold and stood as if dumbfounded.

Bucky didn’t dare move for fear of breaking the spell. This was Steve, but it wasn’t. He’d been approached by an imposter, a body double, an unknown.

The old woman, shorter than most of the others, pushed her way through to the middle. There, she glared up at Steve, challenging him in her loud, gravelly voice. Rogers listened, nodding his head, and then spoke again. He squeezed Bucky’s shoulder. The street went quiet.

The woman’s face quite suddenly shifted into disbelief, whipping her head around to study Bucky. She looked into his eyes first with fright, then with pity, and, finally, with kinship.

She shoved her pack into Steve’s arms. He nearly dropped it from the shock. She turned to Bucky and snatched at the pack strap, tugging so hard he nearly lost his balance. There were more words with Steve, and then more pulling. It appeared she was taking Bucky with her.

A glance over his shoulder showed Steve smiling and nodding, mouthing, “It’s OK.” He fell into step after the woman. Bucky didn’t know what to think.

She let go of the strap yet continued to walk, waving her hands and bubbling over like a boiled pot. Every few steps, she would turn and shake her finger at Bucky, lowering her voice and frowning deeply.

Then she resumed her quick march up the street.

Steve fell into step beside him, and Bucky opened his mouth to ask. But the Captain shushed him and lifted his chin, indicating they should follow without question.

Eventually, the woman stopped in front of a building that was probably quite handsome at one point. She spoke to Steve for a few moments, tone scolding as he nodded enthusiastically. It looked in need of a paint job and a few window panes were cracked.

When she turned to Bucky and grabbed his chin with a dry, gnarled hand, her eyes were kind. She whispered something, patted his cheek, then motioned for him to follow her inside.

Steve bumped shoulders with him. Well, Bucky’s shoulder to his bicep, anyway. “Come on. She’s invited us to dinner.”

They entered the building to more sounds of shouting. The woman was bellowing as if she intended to wake the dead. From the innards of the house came four people; two men, a woman, and a pre-teen boy. They met Bucky and Steve with the same expressions; fear, sorrow, then eagerness.

The older man took the bag from Steve, and the younger one followed him into an open space with a large, worn wooden table. There, the two began to unload the packages; cans, ration packets, bandages, and the like. Meanwhile, the older woman chattered at Steve, who responded in turn, and then she pushed the boy out the front door with some sort of order.

The younger woman had a similar face to the older one; Bucky deduced it was her daughter. Mother and daughter shared an animated exchange, and then they, too, disappeared into the kitchen.

Bucky took a moment to catch his breath as Steve crossed his arms over his broad chest.

“What the hell was that?”

Steve smiled crookedly, watching the activity in the other room instead of facing Bucky’s questioning gaze.

“Easy. I saved your ass. They thought you were some kind of militant, and they were about to lock you up in a barn somewhere without any food and water, and then ransom you off to the highest bidder.”

Bucky gaped at him. “They what?”

Steve nodded, still smirking, as if he were enjoying this. “Yep. Turns out, these people belong to a community of local Jews. They were tipped off by a German businessman about the Balkans being taken away by train. They’re working with the Rabbi in Volos to save their compatriots in Greece. I convinced them you were my brother, and that we’re from the Jewish part of New York. They insist we stay to eat and share news from home.”

Bucky blinked as he watched the family set about stashing the rations and getting to work with pots and pans. “So you just convinced them that Captain America is Jewish?”

Steve laughed and slapped a hand to Bucky’s shoulder, shaking him vigorously. “Yeah, I guess I did.” He uncrossed his beastly thighs and pushed away from the wall, preparing to join their hosts.

But Bucky wasn’t finished. “How did you do that?”

Steve turned slightly but not enough to see his whole face. “Do what?”

Bucky so wanted to punch him just then. “Speak to them!”

There was the briefest hint of eye contact before Steve put his hand on his back pocket. He retrieved the book and slapped it hard against Bucky’s stomach.

And then he walked away.

After recovering from a good solid hit to the bread basket, Bucky looked inside the tattered cover of the book.

Greek words and phrases for beginners.

“Oh.”

The chaos that ensued left Bucky feeling like an outsider. Three different conversations happened over the preparation of food, none of which he could understand. He pulled up a chair next to Steve and watched with growing interest as his friend tried to help wash vegetables.

Bucky caught the man’s pants pocket and reeled him back in. This he knew about.

“Hey,” he hissed into Rogers’ ear. “What happens at my house when you try to help?”

The confused expression on Steve’s face fell into recognition. He was used to living with Sarah, single mom for a long time, before the fend-for-yourself that happened in their apartment. “Your Ma’ would box my ears.”

“Uh-huh. Now sit your ass down and be polite. These people are starving, yet they’re willing to feed us like honored guests.”

Sheepish, Steve obeyed with hunched shoulders and bowed head. Bucky thought he saw a glimpse of his small friend inside.

Just as the food was about to be served, more people arrived. The boy who’d been sent away returned, carrying Steve and Bucky’s heavy packs, no less. He’d also brought with him three other boys, all of which had been needed to haul the supplies from the celebration hall. They beamed at Steve, who flashed a radiant smile and pulled something out of his shirt pocket for each of them.

The patch all of the Howlie’s wore: the shield with its wing.

Before Bucky could ask, Steve explained. “Stark gave them to me. I’ve been handing them out to kids for months. They’re spread out all over Europe at this point.”

Something twanged inside Bucky’s chest. There was so much good in him.

It was a fabulous meal (a bone broth with various vegetables to make up for the lack of meat), punctuated by the guilt Bucky felt for taking it. But Steve promised he’d fill their stash with more staples in the morning.

They’d also been offered a room for the night. “They want to give us a quiet night’s rest. They’ve offered to sit up in shifts to make sure nothing happens.”

Bucky’s heart clenched with appreciation for these strangers.

The conversation switched from shouting and hand waving after the meal to quiet, intent faces as Steve spoke to them about their missions. Bucky watched emotion play out on the family’s faces as he told his stories. It appeared they wanted the bad news with the good. They asked questions and nodded with serious frowns.

They were frightened.

Bucky showed them the small pictures of his mom and dad. The old woman, whose name was Nina, patted his cheek fondly and pointed at his mother. Bucky didn’t need to know the language to understand.

They had a son, twenty, who joined the local defenders and hadn’t been home in weeks. Steve took a picture and promised to pass it around. Maybe someone would know something.

It was late by the time Bucky and Steve were shown to the guest bedroom, a ten-by-ten space with one metal bed. Steve thanked them repeatedly and before the door was closed, Bucky got a hug from Nina.

The two men stood facing each other but avoided the others’ gaze. Steve spoke first.

“I suppose we’re going to fight over who gets the bed, too.”

It was a good, honest right hook.

Bucky sighed heavily and swiped a hand over his face. “I don’t want to fight, Steve. It’s just —“

He looked into that face, the same eyes and nose and lips and —

“I’m just angry at everything.”

Steve didn’t move. Didn’t nod or shrug or anything. “The guys mentioned it. A few times.”

Bucky groaned. “Of course they did.”

The piteous look Rogers threw him was harsh. “They care about you, Buck.”

Bucky knew this. But the way it was said made it sound as if Steve was the worried one.

He studied the bed and remembered how they shared one for years in the apartment. It was a comfort thing. It was a heat thing. It was a — a Steve thing.

“We can share,” Bucky said, resolving himself to accept this monster of a man as his friend. The heart of him had swelled along with his body, and Bucky found he couldn’t justify staying angry with him.

They undressed without speaking, removing boots and socks, belts and trousers. Steve unbuttoned his shirt with fat, clumsy fingers, and Bucky was struck with the idea that Rogers wasn’t used to his body yet, either.

Stripped to their bvds and undershirts, they moved side by side near the bed. The quilt had been pulled down and the pillows propped against the head stand. They sat together as they stood. Steve’s knee bumped Bucky’s, their elbows connected. And the bed?

Creeaaaaaakk!

Steve and Bucky burst into laughter at the sound.

“I ain’t sleeping a wink on this thing,” Bucky said.

Steve’s laugh sounded so, so good. “Me neither. How about we camp on the floor?”

“Sounds like a plan, Cap.”

They unpacked their bedrolls and stole the pillows and quilt from the bed. Bucky turned out the light as Steve sank onto his side, turning his back to Bucky’s roll.

They lay side by side for a long time, Bucky on his back and Steve on his side, facing away. Neither slept, neither moved or made any attempt to. For Bucky’s part, his mind was racing with the events of that night.

Finally, Steve spoke. “What’s eating you, Buck?”

In the dark, Bucky could have easily believed it was his Steve, home after a long day, with Bucky lost in thought. Steve constantly worried about him. Whether he was happy or sad, angry or fired up. The night always seemed to make his anxiety worse.

Bucky’s mouth was dry. He traced over the knuckles on his own hand, lying over his heart, trying to put it into words.

He settled on, “I miss you.”

Steve’s inhale was sharp and rang like an echo in the small room. “But I’m right here.”

Bucky shook his head. “It’s not you who’s missing. It’s me.”

The bedroll beside him rustled as Steve shifted onto his back, too. Before he dove into deeper worry, Bucky continued.

“I lost part of myself in that Hydra Facility. I’m not the same person now.”

Steve grunted as he rolled again. Bucky could feel warm breath on his cheek. “I’m sorry I didn’t get there sooner.”

So that was it. Rogers was trying to atone for something entirely out of his control.

Typical.

“You don’t have to keep protecting me,” Bucky said, feeling the crushing pressure in his chest now. “Just like I need to stop looking after you.”

Something moved in the dark, and a large, warm hand found his. Bucky froze.

“That’s not what this is about. This is about friends watching out for each other, not because we’re supposed to. Because we want to.”

And, oh, did that hurt?

More silence followed. Steve’s hand was hot and heavy over Bucky’s, just lying there, unmoving.

“I saved your Brooklyn butt twice today,” Steve finally said, voice lighter, trying to soften the mood.

The old sense of competitiveness raised its head, and Bucky snorted in reply. “If we’re going to keep track, I think we have to go all the way back to the beginning.”

They did, go back. Silently. Each following a path inside their own heads, remembering what they had been through. Childhood friends. Teen rivals. Confused young men who sometimes weren’t that great to each other.

And now?

Steve’s hand moved, sliding over Bucky’s chest to the opposite side. He moved closer, shifting sideways until he was so close that absolutely no one in the world would see them as brothers.

“Shut up now and get some sleep.”

Bucky’s heart thundered in his chest and he feared that Steve would feel it. He turned away, but Steve followed. His heavy arm draped over Bucky’s ribcage, chest pressed against Bucky’s back, sturdy chin bumping the top of Bucky’s head.

Steve chuckled, and Bucky’s stomach did a flip.

“What?”

More chuckling, low and deep. “There was a time when my head fit under your chin.”

Finish reading on AO3

#stucky #wwii stucky #steve rogers #bucky barnes #howlies

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ladytesla · 3 months

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The Great Faerun Baking Show (part three)

For those of you who are just stopping by, I had a horrible idea a while ago and this is the result. I have no idea what's going to happen or who's going to win. I’m just going to roll a D20 ‘bake check’ for everyone and write out the results, including what everyone rolled so y’all know I’m not cheating just so my druid boyfriend can win. The person with the lowest total score (out of a possible score of 60) goes home.

We've got the main 6 companions, Jaheira, Halsin, Minsc (and Boo), Minthara, Dammon, and my tav Medora (who y'all can just pretend is Alfira if you don't want someone else's tav in the story, since they're both female bards)

Week One, Cake Week: Star baker was Karlach, Minthara went home

Week Two, Biscuit Week: Star baker was Halsin, Shadowheart went home

Week Three: Bread Week, or "No you can't use Mage Hand to knead your dough"

Signature: Cottage Loaf

Astarion: Sun dried tomato and paprika. Unfortunately somehow he never turned on his oven, so all he had when time was called was a big ball of dough that wasn't able to be judged.

Dammon: Greek spices and olives. Or whatever the Faerun equivalent of Greece is. Maybe Waterdeep? Anyway, there were a few too many olives and it was a little underbaked, but it wasn't too bad.

Gale: He really wanted to keep with a magical purple theme, but ube and red onion really don't vibe with each other. It was way overworked thanks to the mage hand he totally didn't use to help with the kneading process.

Halsin: Rosemary and wild mushroom. All of which he'd gathered himself, of course. Nearly perfectly done, and beautifully decorated with little sprigs of rosemary.

Jaheira: Cinnamon pumpkin bread. Very autumnal, but the moisture in the pumpkin threw off the consistency of the dough and left it underprooved. The decorative pumpkin seeds on top could only hide so many sins.

Karlach: Jalapeño cheddar. Just the right amount of heat, from someone who's an expert on it. She even decorated it with a few slices of jalapeño for presentation.

Lae'zel: For some reason she decided to put smoked salmon, herring and tuna in the same bread to make a fish loaf? It was also underbaked, and didn't go over well at all.

Medora: Saffron, rose and pistachio bread. The rose was a bit too overpowering, and the loaf was overworked. It looked nice, though.

Minsc: He used Indian spices in his bread like garam masala and curry powder, which gave it a really unique flavor. It was slightly overprooved, but overall a successful loaf.

Wyll: Gluten-free garlic and herb. He wanted to challenge himself to make a classic flavor more available to those with dietary restrictions (because he is a Very Good Boy) and it was a resounding success. He earned a Hollywood Handshake for his efforts.

Technical: Baguettes

I was surprised to find that the lowest roll for this round was an 8! So they all did pretty well. I think that, from now on, if there's a tie I'll roll for them a second time. The second roll won't contribute to the score at all, it'll just determine the order in the technical.

Worst to best:

10. Halsin

9. Dammon

8. Astarion

7. Karlach

6. Minsc

5. Jaheira

4. Lae'zel

3. Wyll

2. Medora

Gale

Showstopper: Bread Sculpture

Astarion: He recovered from his disastrous signature round to make a masterfully-done sculpture... of himself, with a dagger in one hand and a glass of wine in another. He had to reference the face from a sketch someone had made of him, but thankfully it had been a skilled artist. Paul and Prue had to look really hard to find a flaw.

Dammon: He made a bread dinosaur. A stegosaurus, to be exact. And thanks to its sturdy bread-roll legs, it was able to stand upright unaided. The tip of the tail got a bit burnt, and to save it he'd had to take it out of the oven underbaked.

Gale: He made Elminster's hat, and colored the bread with paprika and cayenne to get the red color. It ended up being quite lopsided, unfortunately, and overworked.

Halsin: His owlbear was incredibly detailed, and the garlic chip decorations he used for some of the feathers accented the flavor of the bread wonderfully. Some of the chips had browned a bit too much on the ends however, so it wasn't perfect, but it was close.

Jaheira: She had a rough time this round. Dropped one of her doughs so she only had two to work with and underbaked her sculpture of a tree so badly that it had to be propped up to stand upright.

Karlach: She made a tower of bread skulls, with one of four different flavors. And tiny grassini breadsticks to represent swords and spears. A mammoth undertaking that she pulled off very well.

Lae'zel: Unhappy about her gingerbread dragon, she was bound and determined to make a dragon right this time. And thankfully, she succeeded. Otherwise she would have continued to make dragons until she got it right. The bread was quite spicy and had chili peppers in it for good measure, but the heat wasn't overpowering at all.

Medora: She attempted to make a lighthouse on an island. It was really precariously tilted to one side, and the bread making the lighthouse was underbaked, but the bread the island was made of tasted fine.

Minsc: He made a giant bread version of Boo the Miniature Giant Space Hamster. Which he presented next to the real thing. It was a huge loaf of bread so it was underbaked in the middle, but it was visually impressive.

Wyll: His bread version of the Ravenguard family crest had a braided border which took a lot of time. However, with the added colors in the dough to bring the crest to life, Wyll was still able to make something delicious and very nicely baked within the time constraints.

The Results:

Our star baker for the week, with a score of 52/60, is Wyll!

Unfortunately, with a score of 23/60, Jaheira has to leave the tent.

Feel free to play along in the comments! How would your tav or favorite npc compare?

Let's fuckin go we're doing pies and tarts next.

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tinyidle · 2 months

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HMU, The reveal of Hongjoong collaborating with Chungha made me horny. Nothing but ruthless sex between them. Trading places when the one on top gets too tired to dom.

i like how you think, anon. i had an entire mini fic i was writing on, but tumblr refreshed and now im back to square fucking one. so ill try my best to reiterate what i wrote earlier.

nsfw, fwb, rough sex, dom/sub dynamic, mutual free use, all fiction ofc

chungha would see hongjoong in the slew of artists she was given to collaborate with, and she peaked his interest the most. when she and he would meet each other (first in kq and then in more vision), they realized that they have a lot more in common than they thought.

once they mutually agreed to get to know each other more, i was pure lust from there on.

one day, when they were doing voice runs to see how well their voices would fit, the end of the day would produced a file entitled 'tri4alo3.mp4', which was filled with moans and whines as hongjoong chungha to the point of near (pleasurable) insanity for her.

another day, hongjoong would be more-or-less pinned to the bed, sobbing uncontrollably as chungha rode him to her completion. even after cumming for- what- three times?? his dick as still hard inside of her and she was still very much energetic.

ahh, and the days they take mutual turns. it would be about three months since they've had this little sexcapade, and they've become pretty close friends. both were watching tv in chungha's small living room. out of nowhere hongjoong would put his hands from his lap to chungha's bare breast.

knowing exactly what he wants, the older woman would take her hoodie and sweats off, leaving her in nothing but her thin panties that were quickly starting to stain. shifting so that she could lay down, she'd push hongjoong's own sweats down, with him lifting himself off so that she could also lower his boxers.

despite the tv having a pretty interesting program about the rise and fall of ancient rome and greece, chungha was busying herself with hongjoong length while he had his hand occupied with the waterfall that was the older's cunt.

with chungha shivering as she came almost too easily from the younger's four fingers reaching the depths of her sweet spot, he pulled her off and made her ride him until she came a good two more times.

then chungha, feeling that her junior needs to get off, would suck him off to completion whilst tasting herself. orgasm one. then she'd jack him off while saying the most dirtiest things to him, hongjoong face flushing red as he moans almost uncontrollably. orgasm two. then she'd ride the slightly taller male until his las orgasm filled her up, racking both their brains.

even when a typical fwb duo would be tired and chill, throughout the end credits of the 2 hour documentary, the two would have a spooning session; hongjoong occasionally pressing his tip to her spot and chungha occasionally squeezing onto him as she rolled her hips back. the last orgasm of the day. they'd turn to each other, kiss a "thank you so much, i platonically love you" kiss (more like make-out as they rutted into each other), and slowly detach from each other before showering quickly.

let's just say that in both hongjoong's studio and chungha's apartment, they had extra clothes and toiletries. but they're just friends! who want to be in sync with each other.

this might be slightly better than what i was writing on earlier.

#ateez smut #hongjoong smut #chungha smut

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forever-rogue · 2 years

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Hey hey, so I'm going through a lot of stuff right now. I'm trying to balance kids, looking for a job, an apartment and finishing my last class of school. I'm feeling so overwhelmed and exhausted.

Long story short, could I maybe get a Steven/Marc one-shot of floofiness? Thanks 🥺

AN | Marc just deserves the world and I want to give it to him!! 🥰🥺

Pairing | Marc Spector x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Allusions to spice but nothing explicit, slight language

Word Count | 1.5k

Masterlist | Main, Moon Knight

── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

“Let’s get away,” the statement was uttered into the dark but you knew it was meant for you to hear. Despite the quiet stillness that fell between the two of you, he could sense that you were awake. You rolled over so you were facing him, finding his face in the dark, his eyes intently watching you.

“What do you mean?” you knew what he meant but you felt like if you gave in and offered him a response, reality would step in and remind you that this was all a dream. But when you felt his hand on your face, the tips of his fingers mapping out every last little detail, you knew this wasn’t a dream. You really were in bed, right next to Marc, where you always wanted to be. The world was still, quiet as people slept - peaceful.

“Let’s go someplace new,” he whispered, his low voice sending a shiver down your spine, “take a break and relax. We both deserve it.”

“And just where did you have in mind?” your eyes grew wide with curiosity as you leaned in so your nose brushed against his. You could feel him smiling against your lips as you sighed contently.

“I don’t know,” he mused softly, “Greece, Australia, Brazil, Spain-”

“Sevilla,” you grinned at him, “I’ve always wanted to go. There’s so many things to do there and it looks beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as you,” he joked as you groaned at him, gently pushing at his chest, “well, then, let’s go.”

“Okay,” you readily agreed, “let’s plan it and then go soon.”

“Let’s go right now,” he insisted as you sat up in surprise. He was so calm and collected that you weren’t even sure you had him correctly. You turned on the bedside as you looked at him, and found nothing but a smirk on his face, “what’s wrong, baby?”

“What do you mean let’s go right now?” you crossed your arms over your chest as you raised an eyebrow at him. His smile just grew wider as Marc sat up and quickly kissed you.

“I mean it just how I said it,” he started sliding out of the bed and headed towards the closet, planning on grabbing out the suitcases that you both had stashed in there, “what’s wrong with a little last minute adventure? What happened to being fun and spontaneous?”

“Flights, a hotel, figuring out what we actually want to see or do,” you walked over to him as he threw the suitcases on the floor and opened them to shove clothes into them, “are you crazy, Marc Spector?”

“I am a lot of things - crazy isn’t one of them,” he grinned as he opened the top dresser drawer and started going through his clothes, “just living on the edge. Come on baby, it’ll be fun. When’s the last time something went wrong-”

“Last week-”

“Not what I meant.”

“Then what do you mean?”

“Not that.”

“Marc-”

“Baby,” he stood up and put his hands on your shoulders as you just raised an eyebrow at him, “I promise it’ll be okay. Just relax, and I’ll handle it all. We’ll go to the airport and it’ll be simple to find a flight. We’ll get to Sevilla, find a hotel and figure it all out as we go. Nothing is going to go wrong, it’s just a little adventure.”

You looked into his eyes for a few moments and you could see the pure excitement that was in them. You did always say there was nothing like an adventure with Marc…maybe this time would be okay too. Things were better now - calmer, peaceful - and you really did want a reprieve from everything. Realistically nothing would go wrong; the worst thing that could happen was that you weren’t able to get a flight right away or you’d have to crash at some sketchy hostel if, for whatever reason, every hotel in Sevilla was booked. And with the way he was watching you with the softest eyes, who were you to say no to him?

“Fine,” you agreed and he practically bounced on his heels. He kissed your cheek before deciding he wanted more. Instead he gently took your face in his hands and pressed a deep, meaningful kiss to your lips. Marc was and had always been your weak spot and before you knew you were practically leaning into him, chasing his lips with yours, “if anything goes wrong, it’s on you.”

“Nothing is going to go wrong,” he promised with a little smirk, “but if for some reason something bad happens, I’ll protect you-”

“I can protect myself,” you grinned despite your best efforts, “but you’ll take the blame.”

“I’ll do whatever you want me to,” he winked before slapping your bum and turned back to the dresser, which earned a small sound of surprise from you. You liked seeing him this way; more carefree and happy. It was like the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders and he could breathe again. Before his joys had been few and far between, they felt stunted and obligated. It had been so long since you’d seen the light in his eyes and now it was an everyday occurrence. The soft umber eyes that had long been your favorite suddenly had nothing but life in them. You went to the drawer to help him and started gathering your own clothes but he nudged you out of the way with his hip, “I’ve got this, baby.”

“You sure?” you asked as sat back down on the bed and he nodded eagerly, “you better use some good judgment. You know what I like.”

“You look good in everything,” he huffed lightly, “you don’t have to worry. Why don’t you get a little rest while I finish everything up?”

“Like I’m going to be able to do that,” you laughed as you laid back down and stole a glance at the alarm clock. It was nearing three in the morning and yet you felt wide awake as ever. It was the adrenaline rush surely, but you’d worry about the crash later. You could probably nap on the plane if you really needed to, “I feel wide awake as ever. Don’t forget our passports.”

“I won’t,” he promised, pausing for a moment to make a mental note to do just that. Before he could go back to what he was doing, he turned to look at you. His mouth almost ran dry at the sight of you sprawled on the bed, arms outstretched and looking completely at ease. There was a peek of your midriff showing from where your pajama shirt (his shirt originally of course) was riding up and he couldn’t deny the little bit of excitement that ran through him. He dropped the shirt he had been folding into the suitcase before stalking over to you, “baby.”

“My love,” you held up your head and grinned at him as he stood between your spread legs, “can I help you? You’re supposed to be packing.”

“I will, I will,” he leaned down so he was looming over you, his strong arms on either side of your head. You turned your head so you could press some kisses to his forearm as he made a small sound in the back of his throat, “how am I supposed to get anything done when you’re over here looking like that?”

“Looking like this? I’m in my old ratty pajamas and my hair’s a mess and I probably really need a shower,” you playfully rolled your eyes as he leaned down and kissed you, “Marc.”

“Yes?” he teased as he nudged your chin with his nose before trailing soft kisses along your jaw and down your neck and stopping at the hollow of your throat, “tell me what you want, baby.”

“You’re the one that started this,” you groaned as he slid his hands under your shirt, letting his warm hands splay over your hips, “I just wanted to sleep, and then you enticed me with a trip, and now you’re trying…to what exactly?”

“You know what I’m doing,” he rasped in your ear, causing you to bite your lip as warmth started to blossom and bloom throughout your entire body, “the question is - do you want it too?”

“Fuck you,” you laughed, pulling him down and pushing him onto the bed so you could straddle his lap, “you’re the worst. The absolute worst.”

“You don’t mean it,” he was grinning from ear to ear as you kissed him slowly, softly, attempting to pour as much love into him as possible, “but I can stop, if you want to.”

“No,” he could feel you smiling against his lips as his hands found purchase on your hips, “don’t stop now, my love. Finish what you started. Then we’ll go and have our little adventure.”

“You’re perfect,” he whispered in your ear, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Marc,” you promised, “always and forever.”

#marc spector #marc spector x you #marc spector x reader #marc spector x fem!reader #oscar isaac #oscar isaac x reader #oscar isaac x you #moon knight #steven grant

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goexploregreece · 8 months

Text

The Ultimate Guide To The Top 7 Things to See In Athens.

So, what exactly are the top things to see in Athens? Ancient temples? World-class museums? Mediterranean sunshine and deep blue skies? Athens has it all and brings together the best of ancient and modern. It is dynamic, indulgent, and exhilarating.

#goexploregreece #exploregreece #greece #travel #mustsee #mustvisit #europe #athens #holiday #explore #wanderlust #travelling #acropolis #parthenon #top tips #travel guide #travel tips

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polysprachig · 7 months

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I hope you haven't answered that somewhere on your blog already (if you have I do apologize for the question), but how much time do you spend learning each of your target languages?

Thanks for the question, anon!

In pre-2019 days I tried to learn multiple languages at the same time, often in a way which was stressful and wasn't suitable to my timetable. I was in love with the idea of spending 2-3 hours per day studying and allocating certain days of the week as x-language days, or establishing months where I'd only plan to read/watch series or films/listen to music in one language.

Tip: don't stress yourself out with nonsensical study checklists. They quickly become uninspiring and lose all the fun.

In 2019 I decided to go about things in a different way entirely, both shifting my focus to solidifying specific skills in my main 5 languages (English, German, French, Irish, Greek) and going from rigid/timed practice to project-based learning. Basically, I made up some silly, yet important goal (with a methodology behind it, considering I teach and assess language levels and can do the same for myself).

Ex. In 2019, I set myself the silly goal of practising my Greek in secret so that I could surprise my family when I visited them in Greece that summer. The plan: keep quiet about it and only learn while at my American grandparents' house (I was staying there overnight at the time to help them back to bed in their old age) so that my direct family wouldn't notice. The methodology: meet 2x or 3x per week for 30 minutes with my teacher, rather than 1x per week for 1 hr, as frequency is better than duration when trying to build speaking confidence at lower levels (and, I would especially argue this is true for passive bilinguals).

Given the types of projects I've worked on in my top 5 languages (and also some others which needed to join the mix to support these 5 over the past few years), I might start out intending to spend 6-8 months one main language project, but have easy access to 2 less intensive (but more long-term projects) so that I can easily go between them based on where my interests have taken me.

#long post #language learning #my polyglot projects #answered anon #asks #polyglot things #my language learning philosophy is much different than it was before and im less of a perfectionist about it now

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lifeofkaze · 1 year

Text

Where All Stories End

Warning: mortal injury, major character death

The wind was howling around the ancient walls of Fraser Hall. The storm that had been building over the Scottish Highlands had broken earlier in the evening, the leaden clouds looming so close to the ground that it looked as if the sky were caving in on itself.

The man in the library wasn’t aware of the clattering raindrops against the windows. He was pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace, as he had been for hours - back and forth, back and forth. His gaze was directed inwards, his fingers toying with the chain of the pocket watch adjusted to his waistcoat, quietly mumbling to himself as he went.

Presently, Henry Lovecraft stopped at the heavy oak desk the lady of the house had moved there for his convenience. Picking up the quill and dipping it into his inkwell, he set the feather to the paper. Before the tip could touch it, however, Henry paused. Frozen, he watched as the first jet-black drop formed on the quill’s end, growing bigger, heavier, laden with all the words of all the worlds. Eventually, it fell, landing on the pristine parchment with a quiet thud. It was a soft sound, nothing compared to the beating against the glass outside, but to Henry’s ears, the impact sounded deafening.

With a sigh heavier than the mountain on his heart, Henry dropped the quill again, turning away from the desk and the empty parchment staring at him. The whispers, which had been quiet for the time he’d stood at the desk, returned, begging him, luring him, asking him to tell their story - no, their story - no, their story.

Henry shut his eyes, too weary to keep the whisperings at bay. He didn’t know what was happening; as long as he could remember, the stories of the past had talked to him. They had always invited him, like friends, lovers, making the past his playground and the present his stage. It was his gift, his singular talent, the one thing that had set him apart from everybody else. Lately, however, his gift had turned into a curse. The stories wouldn’t stop haunting him, calling for him louder than ever before, but every time he tried to put them to paper, they would vanish like the ghosts time had made them. The words slipped through his fingers like fog, only to return and envelope him again as soon as he turned his back.

Henry let himself sink into the chequered armchair close to the fire, stretching out his long legs with the worn, slightly too big slippers Selene had given him on his feet. He took out his pocket watch and flipped it open, studying the familiar face of the token that had once belonged to his father. It had stopped working earlier in the evening, and Henry fiddled with the button on top, watching the hands of the clock turn at his will. He brought it to his heart, but, of course, there was no sound. The clockwork wasn’t ticking, as if the watch was stuck in an eternal moment in time.

A smile flickered across Henry’s face. A strangely comforting thought.

“Uncle Henry?”

The sound of a small voice made Henry break from his musings. Looking up, he saw that a little girl had slipped into the library. She was dressed in a nightgown, her dark hair held in place by a haphazard plait and the bow Henry had brought back from his latest trip to Greece.

“Caitlin,” Henry smiled. “Why are you up at this hour? It must be close to midnight. It’s far too late to wander, especially in a storm like this.”

“I know,” Caitlin Fraser sniffed and shuffled closer, “but I cannot sleep. The wind is howling so loudly. Will you keep me company?”

Henry hesitated. “I shall if you wish it so. But wouldn’t it be better if you found your mother?”

Caitlin made a dismissive noise that made her sound more grown up than a girl of five.

“Mother is in one of her moods tonight.” She lowered her voice in a conspiratorial manner. “She locked herself in her study again, and I swear I can hear her pacing. What is the matter with her, Uncle? Why must she always be like this?”

Henry suppressed a sigh. Storms had always made Selene feel restless, trapped inside without a means of escape. And it wasn’t only that; it had been almost six years now since…

“Come here, little Cat,” Henry said, closing his arms around Caitlin, who rested her head against his chest. “Leave your mother be. She has her own ghosts who haunt her.”

“There are no such things as ghosts,” Caitlin wrinkled her nose. “Everyone knows that, Uncle Henry.”

“I think Alan would like to disagree.”

Caitlin frowned, as if she hadn’t even considered her mother’s undead pet ferret up to this point.

“That’s different,” she declared eventually. “Alan was always like this.”

“Was he?” Henry had meant it as a joke, but somehow, the thought made him contemplative. “What do you think ghosts are, Caitlin?”

“I don’t know,” Caitlin said, looking at him quizzically. “Do tell, Uncle Henry.”

“Judging by the ghosts I’ve met,” Henry said, ignoring Caitlin’s doubtful look, “ghosts are a little like memories. They linger in our world because something’s keeping them. Something that’s too important for them to let go.”

“Like what?”

“It depends. Some have unfinished business to attend to. Some are too scared to move on. And some… some just don’t want to be forgotten.”

Caitlin hummed thoughtfully. “That sounds dreadfully sad, don’t you think? Why wouldn’t you want to go to Heaven when it’s your time?”

Because some people die before their time, Henry was about to say but held the words back; Caitlin was too young to learn this dire truth.

“I don’t think it’s sad at all,” he told her instead. “For some, maybe, but there’s something beautiful in getting to pass on your story, don’t you think?”

“But that’s what you are for, Uncle Henry. You and your books. It’s what you do.”

“It’s what I do,” Henry echoed, trying not to think about the empty parchment on his desk, “but a thousand lifetimes wouldn’t be enough to tell all the stories of this world, little Cat.”

Caitlin giggled, sheepishly covering her mouth with her hand. It was one of Henry’s favourite sights; it made the stern little girl look more like the child she actually was.

“You will need to become a ghost yourself, Uncle Henry. Then you’ll have all the time in the world. Oh, just imagine! The first proper ghost I would know. Apart from Alan, of course.”

Henry laughed quietly. “Of course. I do hope I shall be here for a while longer, though.”

“But one day, maybe.”

“One day, maybe.”

The two of them sat silently for a while, listening to the fire crackling and the wind beating against the window panes.

“I asked Mother about Father today,” Caitlin whispered presently.

Henry exhaled slowly. “What did she say?”

“Nothing, like always. She forbade me to ask about him again.” She raised her face away from where she had snuggled against Henry’s chest. “Sometimes, I wish you were my father.”

There was a dropping sensation to his stomach as Henry gently adjusted the bow on Caitlin’s hair. “Don’t say that.”

“But why? Why can’t you be?”

“I am your Uncle Henry, am I not?”

“I wish you were it, though,” Caitlin stubbornly insisted, her jaw set in the same way her mother always did. “I don’t even know my real father, and I bet Mother doesn’t know him either, or else she would have told me. How can you not know something like this?”

Henry shook his head. “The story of your father is not mine to tell.”

“How entirely unfair.”

“It might appear so, but there is nothing I can do about it, I’m afraid.” Taking Caitlin by the shoulders, he lifted her to the ground. “But there are other stories I could tell you. Do you wish for me to read them to you?”

Caitlin’s face lit up. “Will it be one of a princess in a castle and her handsome prince?”

“If you wish it so.”

“And you will stay to wait out the storm with me?”

“Of course, little princess.”

“Thank you.” Caitlin flung her arms around Henry’s waist. “You and your stories are the best.”

“There’ll always be a story for you with me,” Henry smiled, biting the insides of his cheeks as those big eyes, which reminded him so much of her mother, looked back up at him. “Hurry along now, Your Majesty. I’ll select a book and be right with you.”

Caitlin smiled and flitted away, her light footsteps drowned out by the thunder rolling outside. Henry stared after her for a moment before gathering thoughts and turning toward the bookshelves lining the walls. He knew exactly which book to get for Caitlin; he could already feel it calling to him. Its lure was oddly strong, much stronger than Henry knew it to be. He trusted the feeling to guide him deeper into the darkness of the room, not bothering to take a light. He knew where he was going.

An almost dreamlike smile on his face, Henry climbed the ladder to reach the top part of the bookcase he had been headed for. He thought of how Caitlin’s face always brightened at the part where the prince would rescue the princess; she would look exactly like her mother then, only that Selene had always preferred the dragon to the knight in shining armour.

Thinking of the two women he considered family, Henry extended his hand. A shudder ran through him as his fingers brushed the worn edge of the storybook. It felt strange, like a cold whisper breathing down the exposed skin of his neck.

Caught off guard by the sensation, Henry’s foot in the too-big slippers lost hold on the rack of the ladder, and suddenly, there was nothing beneath him but emptiness. Sudden panic struck him, making him cling to the first thing Henry could get hold of - the upper edge of the bookcase. His feet kicking against it, the ladder fell away, and for one horribly long moment, Henry Lovecraft hung there, his fingers slowly slipping off the polished wood. The thought of his father’s watch flashed in his mind, set for one moment in time, forever and all eternity.

Then, the bookcase began to topple, pulled forward by Henry’s weight. He screwed his eyes shut and let go as he rushed towards the ground, spinning around as books and whispering pages rained down around him. As the thunder rolled outside, the bookcase collided with the back of his head with a final-sounding crush.

Raising his eyes one final time, Henry saw the book he had wanted to bring Caitlin just beyond his fingertips. He reached for it, his vision already fading, fingers just so grazing the old spine. Another shiver.

Then, darkness.

#hphl #hogwarts legacy #henry lovecraft #caitlin fraser #kill you darlings they say #okay -^^-#you get a writer’s block #you kill a dude #works like a charm lol

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