Is it okay if minors follow?
I mean, I'm not your mom, but I am an adult with interests that cover adult topics so my blog could be considered 18+ just based on that. If you think you can handle that, sure, but take care of yourself.
2 notes
·
View notes
brb, watching the entries for last year's liet international.
10 notes
·
View notes
This is an overhaul of an old post from 5 years ago, because I've added a bunch of stuff which unfortunately does not show up correctly anywhere but ON my blog.
Denmark, Scandinavia, and the Nordic region in Danish
Areas
The Nordic countries - De nordiske lande · Norden
Scandinavia - Skandinavien
Kingdom of Denmark · Danish Realm - Kongeriget Danmark · Danmarks Rige
The Kalmar Union · Union of Kalmaris - Kalmarunionen (1397 to 1523)
Countries
Denmark - Danmark
Sweden - Sverige
Norway - Norge
Finland - Finland
Greenland - Grønland · Kalaallit Nunaat (Greenlandic, lit. “Greenlanders’ land")
The Faroe Islands - Færøerne · Føroyar (Faroese)
Iceland - Island
Languages
Danish - dansk
Swedish - svensk
Norwegian - norsk · nynorsk · norsk bokmål
Finnish - finsk
(West) Greenlandic - (vest)grønlandsk · kalaallisut
Faroese - færøsk · føroyskt
Icelandic - islandsk
Minority languages
German - tysk (spoken by the German minority in North Schleswig/South Jutland)
Sámi - samisk (spoken by the Sámi people in large parts of northern Finland, Norway, and Sweden; the cultural region of Sápmi)¹
Inuktun · Polar Inuit - nordgrønlandsk · avanersuarmiutut (spoken in Northern Greenland, around Qaanaaq)²
East Greenlandic - østgrønlandsk · tunumiisut (spoken in Eastern Greenland/Tunu)²
Romani - romani (spoken by the Romani people)
Kven - kvensk (spoken by the Kven people in northern Norway)³
Sign Language - tegnsprog⁴
National demonyms⁵
Dane - dansker
Swede - svensker
Norwegian - nordmand (lit. “northern man”)
Finn - finne · finlænder (rare)
Greenlander - grønlænder · kalaaleq
Faroese · Faroe islander - færing · føroyingur
Icelander - islænding
German - tysker
Non-national ethnicities
Romani - romani
Sámi - same
Specifically Danish stuff
Places in Denmark⁶
Copenhagen - København
Aarhus - Aarhus · Århus (unofficial, but not incorrect spelling)
Jutland - Jylland · Hovedlandet (slang)
Funen - Fyn
Zealand - Sjælland · Djævleøen (slang, lit. “The Devil’s Island”)
Major dialects/regiolects based on location
Jutland - jysk
Zealand - sjællandsk
Funen - fynsk
Bornholm - bornholmsk
All islands (including Zealand + Funen, excluding Bornholm) - ømål (lit. “island language”)
Smaller areas that used to be Denmark
Schleswig-Holstein - Slesvig-Holsten⁷
Scania (Skånes län) - Skåne (around 970 to 1658)
Halland (Hallands län) - Halland (around 970 to 1645, legally 1658)
Blekinge (Blekinge län) - Blekinge (around 970 to 1658)
The Virgin Islands of the United States - Jomfruøerne · Dansk-Vestindien (outdated) · De Vestindiske Øer (outdated) (1672 to 1917)
Estonia - Estland (Hertugdømmet Estland 1206 to 1346, Øsel 1560 to 1645)⁸
Notes:
1) There are many Sámi languages and dialects, too many to list here.
2) Some argue that East and West Greenlandic are dialects of the same language and that North Greenlandic (Inuktun) is a dialect of Inuktitut.
3) Some do not recognise Kven as a separate language from Finnish.
4) Obviously, there is not 1 (one) Sign Language in the entire Nordic. There are Danish, Norwegian, and Icelandic Sign (which are all related), and Swedish and Finnish Sign (which are related to each other). Danish Sign is also used in Greenland and the Faroe Islands.
5) All nationalities and ethnicities fælleskøn (utrum)/common gender (uter).
6) These are just the major parts that you probably should know
7) The whole Schleswig-Holstein area has been much disputed and is hard to date. It was definitely NOT part of Denmark 1864-1920.
8) All of Estonia was never Danish, but various parts were.
If I screwed up or you have questions, feel free to shoot me a message!
12 notes
·
View notes
Hosta minor
Danish Botanical Gardens
2 notes
·
View notes
I never watch shows with subtitles cause it’s distracting to me but i just need you to know how absolutely fucking horrendous the danish subtitles for ofmd is
“Don’t debase yourself for a man who hasn’t a single tureen on board”
Becomes:
“Dont debase yourself for a man who didn’t invent the bowl”
Huh??
There’s also that scene in ep8 where ed says he’s mellowed a bit and the danish subtitles are like
Ed: you’ve mellowed a bit (@ Jack)
Again, huh???
9 notes
·
View notes
Sweden saying they'll vote against allowing the use of Catalan, Basque and Galician in the European Union Parliament because "there's lots of minority languages and we can't allow them all" is so funny because CATALAN HAS MORE SPEAKERS THAN SWEDISH
Catalan is the 13th most spoken language in the EU. It has more than 10 million speakers, which means it has more speakers than other languages that are already official EU languages like Maltese (530,000), Estonian (1.2 million), Latvian (1.5 million), Irish (1.6 million), Slovene (2.5 million), Lithuanian (3 million), Slovak (5 million), Finnish (5.8 million), Danish (6 million), Swedish (10 million), and Bulgarian (10 million).
Neither Galician (3 million) nor Basque (750,000) would still be the least spoken languages to be allowed in the EU representative bodies.
But even if any of them did, so what? Why do speakers of smaller languages deserve less rights than those of bigger languages? How are we supposed to feel represented by the EU Parliament when our representatives aren't even allowed to speak our language, but the dominant groups can speak theirs?
It all comes down to the hatred of language/cultural diversity and the belief that it's an inconvenience, that only the languages of independent countries have any kind of value while the rest should be killed off. After all, isn't that what Sweden has been trying to do to the indigenous Sami people for centuries?
2K notes
·
View notes
Kento Nanami [Masterlist]
[*indicates NSFW]
Series
A Bento For Kento - ✨COMPLETE✨
The Apple of His Eye - ✨COMPLETE✨
Sweet Like Honey* - ✨COMPLETE✨
past lives - ✨COMPLETE✨
Drabbles & Imagines
He Adores You
When You're Drunk
Coworker Nanami
When You're Sick
Calling for Backup
Pillow Fort
Weddings
Hot Chocolate
Everywhere
Drunk in Love
From the Start
Valentine
Love Like You
PDA Part 1*
PDA Part 2*
Before a Business Trip*
What You Need*
When He's Mean*
When He Scowls*
Giving You a Massage*
Trying to Make a Baby*
Insatiable*
Dry Humping*
When He Gets Jealous*
His Watch*
Fucking Him Stupid*
Vacation Mode*
Touch Starved*
Being Rough With You*
When You Go Out Dancing*
Just One More*
Fortunate*
Craving Dessert*
Ugly Sweater*
Company Holiday Party*
Mirror Sex*
Distraction*
One-Shots
Afternoon in Heaven*
The Perfect Remedy*
Out of Time Part 1
Out of Time Part 2*
Business Trip*
Catching You Doing Something Naughty*
Leaving Him a Voicemail*
Teach Me, Senpai! - [Ino x f!reader x Nanami]*
Eggplant Parmesan*
A Helping Hand*
Requests
When You're on Your Period
Craving a Danish*
Daddy Issues*
Froggy Scrunchy
Moles*
Foot Fetish*
Sock Fetish*
Willy Warmer
First-born
Sundress for His Birthday*
husband!Nanami - Daddy Issues*
Having a Creative Partner
Calling Him "Pretty Boy"
Playing Cat and Mouse
Cherry Tomatoes
y2k karaoke party
"Sk8er Boi" by Avril Lavigne
"Promiscuous" by Nelly Furtado*
"Work Song" by Hozier
"Love Never Felt So Good" by Michael Jackson
"Kiss Me" by Sixpence None The Richer
"Glamorous" by Fergie*
Most of my work is explicit and NSFW, so MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Do not plagiarize any of my works or translate without my permission.
1K notes
·
View notes
Propaganda
Betty Blythe (The Queen of Sheba)—no propaganda submitted
Asta Nielsen (Hamlet)—She played a version of Hamlet in which Hamlet was in love with Horatio because he was a woman raised to pretend to be a man, and nothing else about the story is changed. Her depiction has inspired countless people and did SHRIMP things to my gender and sexuality. A vote for Asta is a vote for queer goths everywhere 🖤
This is round 1 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]
Betty Blythe:
Asta Nielsen:
"One of the best Hamlets I've ever seen, she's so expressive I can feel her pain. Also, goth girl/boy realness."
"I just think she is neat. She was the first real movie icon in Europe, known for her big dark eyes, 1,70m/5'7 height, and "boyish figure" which gave her an androgynous allure. She opposed the Nazi regime. Also, her role in Hamlet is not Ophelia. She plays Hamlet."
"I suspect the non-american silent movie stars are gonna be in the minority, so I'm gonna be at least throwing her name in the ring. Great danish dame, one of the very first female silent movie stars (wiki says "one of the first international movie stars")! Best Hamlet to ever To Be Or Not To Be and absolutely gender envy. Her career unfortunately did not survive the transition to talkies (she however lived pretty long)."
"I think she's not as iconic in America as she is in Europe, because her films got censored over there, but she really is the original sex symbol of film. I need everyone to take a look at her as Hamlet and to have watched this clip of her dance in The Abyss before you vote. It was hot then and it's still hot now!!!"
612 notes
·
View notes
Seasons of Grief
The reader comforts Kento as the anniversary of Yuu Haibara's death approaches, and after, as Kento faces the threat of losing her.
WARNINGS: 18+, Fluff, comfort smut and angry smut, hurt, angst, grief. You know what you came here for, you dirty birds.
+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+
You felt Kento change like the seasons, when Yuu Haibara's death anniversary approached. His signs of grief, the post-traumatic stress, and his guilt at being unable to save his best friend, showed in the most curious ways. Remaining, as always, so outwardly stoic, Nanami appeared to all others unaffected; but to you, who as his fiancée, loved and knew him best, your heart broke softly for him year after year.
Firstly, the holiday brochures. More and more of them, ordered online and addressed to Kento- Malaysia, Australia, New Zealand...and countries you knew he and Yuu had spoken about visiting together after qualifying from Jujutsu High. Backpack tours of Europe. Scotland and Ireland. The Americas. Sometimes Kento mentioned taking a holiday to you, and sometimes he didn't- but you had seen his notebooks and the itineraries he had written, all comfort blankets for him, all escape plans, all safety nets. In one instance, you saw where he had accidentally written Yuu's name instead of yours, then crossed fiercely through, and replaced. He had always insisted you were his best friend. It never upset you that Yuu had been his first best friend.
Second, the clumsiness. The sound of porcelain smashing to pieces on the kitchen floor as Kento tidied the dishes. The quiet swearing as he caught his belt loop on the doors. The increase in minor injuries from missions, and his hushed, subdued apologies to you as you cleaned and dressed his wounds, laying gentle kisses on his temples while his forehead rested on your breasts, quiet and still, shadows long against the evening sun.
Thirdly, the phone calls to his parents and grandfather. Usually a weekly event, they become twice weekly, then every other day, then daily. He could not face calling Yuu's parents; although they would never allow him to apologise, full of guilt, for his perceived part in their son's death, his thumb still sometimes hovered over his screen, the Haibara's name listed on his screen. So, he called his own parents, just to let them know he was fine, and safe, and that you were fine and safe. His grief, he shared with his grandfather, in quiet Danish, curled up in an armchair late at night.
Finally, came the nightmares. Kento would wake up gasping, bare chest coated in cold sweat as he reached out for someone he would never make it to in time. You reached out to take his hand when it flung out in the dark, and he would pull you to him and start comforting you, and start reassuring you, wholly unaware that you heard his deep voice breaking so slightly in his chest. Unaware that he had been crying out for help in his sleep- help that never came when he and Yuu had needed it so badly. He stroked your hair and hushed sweet reassurance to you, letting you know he would never leave you, alone and afraid in the night.
Except, for this night. The night before the anniversary of Yuu's death. Kento did not want you to visit Yuu's grave with him on the anniversary, not wanting to burden you with his regrets. Wanting to offer Yuu the one-on-one time that he offered just once a year.
Kento's nightmares on this night were his most vivid so far. Desperate to sleep dreamlessly, he had sunk his fears into a whisky bottle, wordlessly allowing it when you gently removed the bottle after five large glasses. He had fallen asleep fitfully, tense with terror for the night ahead, but taken by force, numbed by the sweet opium of the drink.
You had curled close behind him, spooning him to you. You fell asleep with your nose to his shoulder blade, your arm barely reaching round his barrelled ribs to his chest, where he had grasped you tightly with his upper arm.
Kento's panicked shout broke you from your sleep in the wee small hours of the night. Chest heaving violently now, you were pushed away to your side of the bed. His hair, mussed and soft sat scatteringly over his forehead, head tossing from side to side, his arm reaching out again. You took his hand, calling his name, but Kento's hand clasped and unclasped around yours, unable to gain purchase. Your heart clenched painfully and you began to panic, unable to wake him, unable to bring Kento back and feeling like he would die there if you left him--
"DON'T HURT HIM-- PLEASE--"
"KENTO!"
Kento woke, shuddering gasps and wide-eyed, seeing Curses in every shadow as he sat hard up in bed, leant back on his elbows, chest and abdomen lurching with exertion. You crawled to him instantly, straddling him and clasping his tear-stained cheeks in your palms. Your face, contorted with pain, all for him, filled his vision. He sat up fully, thick corded arms wrapping you to him completely, enveloping you against his sweating chest. This time, you held him, whispering reassurances that you wouldn't leave him and that he was safe in your bed. Fingers tangled in his hair, scratching his scalp softly, rhythmic, in circles. His breathing calmed, his bounding heartbeat beginning to slow against your breasts.
Gently leaning you away, he wiped his eyes with one large movement. He had never loved you more than when you held him during his pain. He knew he was never less of a man to you, for crying out in his sleep. He knew he could hold his head high outside of these four walls, wearing your love like armour as he headed to battle.
Kento pulled you closer on his lap, nuzzling deeply into your neck and feeling the heat of your core against his hips. In his shirt, and only his shirt, he noted. Sighing against your throat as you felt him begin to harden beneath you.
"Thank you...please-- I just need to sleep." He groaned as you rocked your hips softly against his, granting wordless permission. He shuddered, chest bursting with love and gratefulness, lips and tongue paying homage to your throat while he unbuttoned your shirt. Your pussy sat directly atop his hardening shaft, and you shivered, whining as your shirt fell open, and Kento's calloused fingers cupped your breasts, insistently rolling over your nipples.
Kento moaned softly as you rode him through his pyjamas, cock straining upwards against the soft material. Your hand reached downwards, snaking across his abdomen and trail of hair until you grasped his shaft, pulling him gently upwards out of his clothes. His cock rested against his abdomen, and you swiped your thumb against the drop of precum at its tip. Kento's shoulders tensed and rolled at the sensation, yearning to be inside you, to feel you closer.
Kento took your nipples into his mouth and hands again as you gripped his cock, feeling his pulse bounding there, and you began to stroke him, firm and practiced, from ball to tip. Kento's eyes fluttered closed in pleasure, reaching down to grasp your hand under his, obsessed with how exceptional your small hand felt gripping his length.
Kento's hands left your body to lift you upwards, and you guided him to you, rubbing him between your folds to coat him in your arousal. Still sat upright as your knees and thighs embraced his hips, Kento's hands grasped your waist and gently pushed you downwards. You whimpered at the stretch of his length and girth, feeling so full before he was fully sheathed in you.
He shushed into your hair as you fell forwards against his chest, your fingertips pressing hard against it.
"You're so good to me...just a little more," and his arms wrapped around you, forearms pressing your hips downwards until he bottomed out, groaning and bucking, lips firm against yours as he drank your gasps and cries.
Barely pulling out, you cried his name as you felt him rocking your pussy tightly against him. Kento allowed no space between you, chest tight with affection and holding himself back so as not to squeeze you too hard. His pulsing tip continually pressing against your cervix and deepest walls, Kento gripped your hair at the roots, tipping your head back swiftly to expose your throat, his second hand still effortlessly thrusting you down his length, trying to close the space between you until you were one. His head tipped sideways, teeth scraping down either side of your throat, and you stilled completely, at his mercy as he took his comfort and pleasure from you.
The constant pressure against your cervix, and clit rubbing against his pubic bone, had your orgasm building quickly, and you fell prone in his arms; his hand gripping the roots of your hair grew tighter, and you felt him growl against your throat as his own built.
"Kento...harder...please..." And you felt his hand lifting you on and off his cock quicken in response, his hips raising to meet them, feeling the pressure of his thrusts jumping in your belly now. Your cheeks flushed and your belly tightened as you rocked harder against him, taking the clitoral stimulation you needed to shunt you over the edge. You gasped and cried, his name tumbling off your lips in waves.
"I'm so close...wait for me," Kento whispered against your lips, breaths quickening as his hands thrust you against him hard just a few more times before he stilled, pouring deep inside you, breaths juddering, feeling the fear seep out of him, his own body and mind full of you, and only you.
Kissing you softly, Kento deftly flipped you onto your back in bed. You gripped him by the back of the head, kissing and nipping at his ears, and he gently pulled out of you, reaching to his bedside table and pressing a soft cloth between your legs.
"Stay," he urged. As he rolled aside again to close his drawer, you clung against his back, spooning him again. Kento hesitated, tears pricking in his eyes, suddenly overwhelmed by the love you gave. He allowed you to pull his back to your chest, falling asleep with you, shadows chased away, for now.
+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+
"I've been requested for a mission. I don't like to be away, not today. But..." Kento smiled gently at you, hand reaching out to cup your cheek as you straightened your mission-wear.
"I'll be alright, I promise." He assured you, on the day of his visit to Yuu Haibara's grave, "But will you be? You're going with someone?"
"As always. I'm supporting Ino. It's only a low-end Second Grade apparently. We'll be fine."
Kento's stomach clamped painfully for a second, but he urged himself to relax- she'll be fine, Ino would never let anything happen to her.
You left shortly after, Kento's lips lingering on your own a second longer than usual. He finished getting ready, lunch prepared to sit with Yuu and catch him up on his life and his love, and headed to Jujutsu High. Under Torii gates, past effigies and low soft willowy branches, he found Yuu's grave, surrounded by too many others. Relaxing, feeling the positive purpose of his visit start to wash away the pain, Kento sat, greeting his old friend.
Kento sat with Yuu for hours. He found it just as easy talking to Yuu now as he had all those years ago-- probably easier, mused Kento sardonically, he talks a lot less now. Brushing crumbs off his suit, and picking up his jacket, Kento placed a hand on Yuu's headstone, wishing with a pang that it was Yuu's shoulder instead. Quashing the feeling with firm resolve, he spoke to Yuu, with Yuuji Itadori, and all of his subordinates clear in his mind.
"I'd die before I let them go the way you did, you know. Gojo and I...he may be a moron, Yuu, but we can change the system. I'm sure of it."
Kento bowed deeply, bidding his friend goodbye. Fat drops of rain started to fall, his light suit growing quickly more speckled, a flick of hair loosening and tipping over his forehead. Heading up the steps to the school buildings, and hoping he may run into you there after your mission, he passed another pair of sorcerers, and he froze as he heard a snippet of their conversation.
"...Second Grades died on a mission today. Body's being brought in now."
"Oh man. Just one of them at least. Wonder who it was?"
Kento felt ice-water rush through his veins. A thousand violent, bloody images flashed across his mind, and a wave of nausea threatened vomit. He clapped a hand over his mouth as he lost his footing, staggering sideways into the red pillar of a gate. Vision swimming, rain and red mist clouding his vision, he yanked off his glasses and dropped them into the mud, brown shoes slapping into a run, spattering gravel up his trouser legs.
You. Ino. You. Ino. You. YOU. Your faces and voices flashed in Kento's mind as he sprinted towards the mortuary, feeling sick to his stomach as he hoped beyond hope to meet Ino's corpse there, and not yours. Full of shame and fear, he ignored everyone and every greeting along the way until traditional Japanese wooden corridors made way to clinical white floors, metal doors. Slamming through the final set of metal doors, the scent of chloroform and death hit his nostrils, and he found Shoko completing the sign-in of a single body bag.
Shoko's eyes met Kento's as she reached into her pocket for her phone. Thick eyebrows tilted in surprise, she took in Nanami's appearance, dishevelled, soaked, wild.
"Nanami," she started, hesitantly, "I was just about to call you. Why are you crying? Nanami? Nanami?"
+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+
It had taken a long time for Shoko to calm Kento down for long enough to tell him it wasn't you in that bag. Kento had fallen to his knees, hyperventilating, eyes wide and seeing nothing, as Shoko had shaken him by the shoulders and called for him.
There had been two second-grade missions that day; yours, and another. The casualty had been from the other, another young sorcerer slaughtered in combat. Your phone had been destroyed in your combat, so Ino had contacted Shoko at your insistence, for her to seek Kento out to tell him in person instead of interrupting his vigil at Yuu's grave. Just a misunderstanding, Nanami, Shoko insisted, she's alright, she's alright.
Fragile and exhausted, Nanami sat alone now in a quiet office, hands shaking around a mug of cheap coffee. Aside from the creak of passing footsteps on floorboards, Kento was in silence, only his thoughts for company.
"Nanamin? Can I come in?" Kento didn't answer, and a few seconds passed, before the door clicked open, Satoru letting himself in. His usual plaintive smile on his face, Satoru walked forwards to place a reassuring hand on Kento's shoulder.
"Nanamin. Shoko told me what happened." Silence, again, from Kento. Satoru continued, "Ino just messaged. They're in the car with Ijichi now. Both of them. She'll be back soon. Minor injuries apparently, Shoko can fix them right up, but..." Kento scowled up at Satoru, alarmed.
"I'm not in the mood for your games, Gojo. What is it?" Gojo's smile dropped, face uncharacteristically grim, and...disgusted?
"It wasn't some low second-grade they were sent to, Nanamin. It was a middle of the road first-grade at least. And the higher-ups who sent Ino and y/n knew that. I've suspected for a while that they've been bribing the administrators to rank certain Curses lower so they can justify sending in lower-grade sorcerers, and spare the big clan sorcerers. Saves them money, and it's handy when they don't have the higher-grade sorcerers to hand to deal with it." Satoru grimaced. "I'm going to deal with it, but I thought you'd want to bring them hell too. You and y/n deserve to know."
Kento was silent again as Satoru left. But, this time, he was wordless with rage. A red veil had descended over his thoughts, and Kento found himself close to collecting his blade and hunting down the Jujutsu Headquarters' higher-ups one by one.
How dare they, Kento seethed, up and pacing now, fists flexing pulse points in his temple and neck raised with fury, how dare they send you like a lamb to slaughter, to protect their wallets, to protect their own in the great clans.
His stomach churning, Kento realised now why the location of Jujutsu Headquarters was a closely guarded secret-- they'd have been murdered through spite years ago, he realised. He had only one connection to the higher-ups, and he had reached for his phone with shaking hands, when the door opened once again, and you walked in, scraped and bruised but undeniably, completely you.
Kento dropped his phone back into his pocket and crossed the room in three great strides, lifting you into the air with the force of his embrace. Putting you down, huge warm hands patting you down all over, Kento checked you- scrapes, bruises, but whole, alive. A shaking sigh of relief escaped him. You stroked his cheek, the look of sweet concern in your eyes nearly bringing him to tears. You opened your mouth to speak, but Kento interrupted.
"Get home. Now. Call a taxi, charge it to my card." You opened your mouth again to argue, but Kento silenced you instantly. You felt a chill in your stomach, Kento looming over you, an unstoppable force, undeniably livid, but not with you.
"Don't argue with me. Go home, clean up. Eat. Lock the doors. I've got something I need to do, then I'll be home. And you're never coming back here again."
Kento left the room, leaving you in stunned silence. You hadn't even been able to greet him. Shaken up, you called for a taxi, and made your way outside. The corridor was already empty, Kento's footsteps fading away from you.
+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+
"Principal Gakuganji?"
Yoshinobu Gakuganji sat in his office, a steaming cup of tea in front of him, and he is
prickled instantly at the tone of the voice on the other end of the phone.
"Speaking."
"Good. I'd like you to listen very carefully." Cold seeped into Gakuganji's stomach as the man continued to talk.
"You, and yours, at Jujutsu Headquarters, approved two second-grade missions today. Neither of these missions, as it turns out, were second-grade appropriate, were they, Principal Gakuganji?"
Gakuganji's grip tightened on the phone. He knew this voice.
"Nanami-san? I suggest you think very carefully before saying anyth--"
"Oh no, Sir, I suggest you think very carefully. One second-grade sorcerer died today, and you should consider yourself extremely fortunate that my fiancée was not the one brought to the school in a body bag. Because the next body bag would have been yours."
Gakuganji stood, appalled at being spoken to like this.
"And before you ask yourself how I'd have the audacity to call you like this, I'd like you to consider: would you like me as your enemy, after you take from me the thing I love most in the world?"
Gakuganji had dropped the receiver now, staring at it like it had burned him.
He heard the voice at the end of the phone hum, pensively.
"I could be quite the Curse-user, you know."
A faint click as the call ended, and Gakuganji was left alone with Nanami Kento's threats and a lingering dial tone.
+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+
You had been home just long enough to shower and pull on a dressing gown, worry clawing at your insides over the state you had found Kento in. His voice, cold and gravelly, had chilled you, and you needed him home and happy with you to feel certain you had done nothing wrong. Stomach roiling, you couldn't bring yourself to eat. The door clicked, and your heart leapt into your throat. Stepping into the hallway you found Kento, trousers and shoes coated in dried mud, jacket slung on the hooks by the door, tie already off and hanging from his pocket. You could feel the rage still rolling off him in waves and your hands went cold, pushing them round yourself and under your arms.
"...Kento? What's happened?"
Kento's jaw-clenched. He was quick to reassure you, "You've done nothing wrong. I'm not angry with you. I could never be."
You visibly relaxed, and Kento continued, "But you're never going back to that place. They don't care about you. Hand in your notice."
Filled with indignation, you began to argue back.
"You think you can order me to leave my job without an explanation? Please, Kento. I'm not a child."
"An explanation?" He spat, striding towards you now, "Here's your explanation. It has come to my attention that the higher-ups are routinely under-ranking Curses to send inappropriate sorcerers to manage them. You and Ino dealt with a First-grade Curse today, so congratulations to you, but another Second-grade sorcerer came to Shoko in a body bag today, unsuccessful."
You felt cold to the pit of your stomach. You had been convinced the Curse had been an innocent misclassification. You had been overwhelmed, your life very much on the line, and you and Ino had succeeded through luck and teamwork alone. Suddenly, you understood Kento's rage, but couldn't allow him to make rash decisions on your behalf. You inhaled deeply, and let out a shaking breath. Kento was inches from you, cursed energy bounding off him in hot pulses.
"Be that as it may, and we can address this so it doesn't happen again, I'm not leaving my job over thi--" Kento snarled at you, backing you into your bedroom now.
"This is what you want?" He inquired coldly, slamming the door behind him, "For me to bury you? Or, what's left of you? We only had half of Yuu's body, you know. I wonder, did they know that Curse was a First-grade?"
You continued to back away from Kento, unable to quell his rage, the backs of your knees bumping against the bed.
"Is that what this is about? What happened to Yuu? Kento, be reasonable--"
Kento's hand pressed over your mouth. "Enough," he rumbled, voice low and dangerous. You felt heat pool in your belly now, feeling the heat, anger and possessiveness radiating off him.
Kento removed his hand and tilted your chin forcefully up to him, crushing his lips to yours, so different to his usual tender kisses, and his hand slipped under your dressing gown, squeezing your breast hard. You mewled against Kento, pleading again for him to be reasonable--
"I am being reasonable," he purred at you, hands now undoing your dressing gown, stripping it off you, tossing it aside and leaving you naked and vulnerable in front of him, "because you and I both know I wouldn't want to live without you. Why do they deserve you more than I do?"
Kento spun you away from him, tossing you face down onto the bed. You gasped, opening your mouth again to tell Kento off, and as you began to lift yourself off the bed, you felt Kento's knee on the small of your back, forcing you down, and his hand over your mouth. Your breath hissed from your nose in surprise, and you felt Kento, powerful and completely immovable, caging you in.
"So if I am being reasonable, and we know I am, how else can I make you leave that place?" You felt his tongue on the back of your neck, licking a bold stripe up to your ear, before biting your earlobe a little too harshly. You mewled behind his hand again, growing wetter, pussy aching despite your indignation.
"How about I put a baby in you?" You squeaked in shock behind his hand, and he laughed dryly, "Come now. It's not like we haven't spoken about this. Would that be enough to take you off the battlefield?" You felt Kento palming himself through his trousers now, completely unhinged in his anger and desire to protect you, and heard the zip of his trousers, feeling his bare cock dropping, throbbing and huge between your thighs, wet with your arousal.
Kento hummed at you, prone and gagged by his hand beneath him, and slipped his length between the wetness of your thighs, groaning as you clamped them together in surprise. He began to slowly thrust into the tops of your thighs, groaning lowly and wettening his cock. He felt your panting breaths from your nose against his hand, rage still coursing through him at your refusal, his irrational mind placing your safety above all else.
You nearly fell apart at his next question, asked slowly, millimetres from your ear; "Should I be gentle?" A moment of hesitation from you, before you shook your head. Kento chuckled darkly- "Good. I wasn't going to be."
With no warning, Kento angled his cock upwards and thrust deeply into your prone body, instantly bottoming out, grunting with the pleasure. You squeaked behind his hand, arms reaching round instinctively to grab at Kento. Now your body was pinned completely by his, his other hand swiftly collected yours together and pressed them hard to the bed above your head.
You mewled and whimpered behind Kento's hand as he pounded into you relentlessly, owning you, marking you as his own with harsh lovebites to your neck that no amount of make-up would hide. You were dizzy from his pace, cockhead slamming against your cervix and sweet spot, now unmoving and completely succumbing to Kento, allowing yourself to be so used, as he panted and groaned above you.
Kento felt only a spark of guilt as he continued to bully his way into your pussy, feeling wholly justified in his rage, needing you to know how serious he was about keeping you home and safe.
His hand left your mouth to reach under your body, sliding between your folds and pinching your clit harshly, "Loud as you like now, my love." And Kento was rewarded with you gasping his name, before crying out like a song, music to his ears, and his pace picked up again, determined to hear you call his name again.
Your orgasm crashed into you with little warning, Kento's harsh ministrations on your pussy and clit rushing you through your orgasm rapidly to overstimulation, and you squirmed and writhed beneath him, only spurring him on more.
"Again," Kento ordered, growling into the back of your neck as within seconds, you cried his name out again, begging him now for relief.
Kento continued, and you lay spent as he continued to pound you into the mattress, pussy now fluttering weakly around him, and he reached under you, holding your lower belly as he came with a roar, holding you up to him as he spilled himself inside you. You panted, duvet tear stained beneath your eyes, and Kento pulled out to a whimper from you. He appraised his work, using his fingers to push drips of his cum back inside your pussy.
You lay in silence as Kento dropped back onto his knees, head tipped back and cracking his neck from side to side.
"Alright," he spoke slowly, as you laughed into the mattress at his strange duality, "we can talk about it now."
+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+
Love you all, MWAH
656 notes
·
View notes
Tiaras of the future Queen Mary
I love a good list and @duchessofostergotlands requested one of the tiaras that Mary will wear as queen. As usual I had a lot to say.
Crown Jewels
Queen Caroline Amelie's Emerald Tiara
Denmark is unusual among modern monarchies in that they still have wearable jewelry in their crown jewels. There is a diamond set, a pearl and ruby set, and of course the beautiful emerald parure. This tiara cannot be taken outside of Denmark and is only worn by the queen. I really hope Mary wears it for her first official portrait as queen.
Major Tiaras: Non-Restricted
Princess Louise's Pearl Poiré Tiara
This tiara has only been worn by Queen Margrethe during her reign but previously was worn by crown princesses and princesses. It is a very important tiara but I wouldn't mind Queen Mary loaning this one occasionally to other people like Christian's future wife.
Queen Désirée's Ruby Parure Tiara
Queen Ingrid kept this tiara even after her husband passed and then left it to Crown Prince Frederik for his future wife so it was never worn by Queen Margrethe. I expect Crown Princes Mary will continue wearing this tiara for now as the parure was extensively remodeled to suit her. When Christian marries, she may decide to pass it on to his wife establishing it as the de facto crown princess tiara, keep wearing it herself, or ideally keep wearing it while also loaning it the future crown princess.
Minor Tiaras
We don't yet know how Queen Margrethe will handle passing on her jewelry. In other countries with recent abdications, Queen Beatrix of the Netherlands still attends tiara events but Queen Paola of Belgium and Queen Sofia of Spain do not. If Margrethe decides to keep attending them she may hold on to some of these for a while.
Grand Duchess Louise of Baden's Palmette Tiara
This isn't my favorite tiara in the Danish vault because of the way it ends so abruptly instead of tapering off. Queen Mary's going to have to pull off some great tiara hair to cover that up.
Crown Princess Margaret's Turquoise Daisy Tiara
Queen Mary looks good in turquoise but I'm really looking forward to seeing this tiara on Princess Isabella and Princess Josephine.
Queen Ingrid's Floral Aigrette Tiara
I've loved the way Queen Margrethe played around with this tiara but I am looking forward to Queen Mary putting it back on a tiara frame like Queen Ingrid wore it.
Queen Margrethe's Naasut Tiara
Queen Margrethe was given this tiara by Greenland in 2012 and I have been waiting for day it is worn by Queen Mary. I think the delicate gold flowers are really going to look great against her dark hair.
Personal Tiaras
Wedding Tiara
Queen Margrethe gave this tiara to Crown Princess Mary as a wedding gift and Mary later had optional pearls added.
Ruby & Spinel Necklace Tiara
Mary bought herself this tiara at an auction and debuted it 2015. I think it was a very smart move because it was only 8050 EUR (probably less than some of her gowns) and it will be a great piece for her children to wear in the future.
Every country and monarch handles jewelry a little differently. Queen Margrethe gave each of her daughters-in-law a tiara but did not share any of her tiaras with them. She did share with her nieces (the daughters of her two sisters) when her sisters didn't have enough tiaras to loan them for events. I would like to see the future King Frederik X and Queen Mary change how the jewelry is dispersed.
First of all they need to stop giving away jewelry. The mainline has already lost the Queen Alexandrine's Diamond Drop Tiara to the Countess of Frederiksborg and Princess Dagmar's Diamond Floral Tiara to Princess Marie. Those are both beautiful, versatile tiaras that would have served the family well in the future. In the previous generation, Princess Benedikte was given Queen Sofia's Star & Pearl Tiara and her Floral Birthday Tiara made from other jewelry and Queen Anne Marie was given Crown Princess Margaret's Khedive Tiara and her Antique Corsage Tiara made from other jewelry. There's no reason to give away tiaras anymore to people whose descendants will have little reason to wear them.
Then to make up for not giving away any jewelry there needs to be more sharing! I don't want to see the same person wear the same tiara to every event. Queen Mary will have the Emerald Tiara exclusively and then may choose to keep the Pearl Poiré Tiara and Ruby Parure Tiara to herself but everything else should be shared among her daughters, daughters-in-law, and other members of the extended Danish Royal Family. It would make things so much more interesting.
288 notes
·
View notes
Second Circle Of Hell - Osferth (The Last Kingdom)
I got this idea while I was in church...because my pastor is kinda good looking...cough. i'm such a sinner, i must corrupt the babey
Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), dubcon, femdom (mostly), corruption kink, innocence kink, virginity loss, religious conflict, religious guilt (not me projecting🙈), think that's it?
2.9K Words🤙🏻
Ever since pious and devout Christian monk Osferth joined the party of Uhtred, you've had your eye on him in deep intrigue.
The young man seemed so innocent, too innocent. You often wondered what dirty secrets he could be hiding.
Now, you may have just been a lecherous heathen that everyone who wasn’t a Dane said you were. You were practically a whore in your own right, so maybe anyone who acted relatively kind was innocent to you.
You never shied away from being yourself, especially in front of your group of men. Perhaps it was the way you were raised. You had no trouble changing in front of people, knowing that you could protect yourself if any of them would be stupid enough to make a move. Uhtred had already made that mistake once, but he never did it again after you put your dagger to his balls. You also never feared to bathe near the group, plus it was safer than going off on your own and you didn’t care if they saw you. You loved making your boys uncomfortable as well.
A memory that always stuck with you is when you were bathing in a river one day and Osferth accidentally saw you. He spoke apology after apology until his face turned beet red, but all you did was laugh. You had asked him for your clothes but he handed them to you with his eyes closed. That was the only moment when you were disappointed a man didn’t try to take advantage of you for once.
There was a day in Winchester where you, Finan, and Osferth were sitting outside a tavern. You could see how nervous and shy the boy was around women, and then Finan said it. He joked that Osferth was a virgin. He did that thing where he denied it so much that it must’ve been true, and that’s what you had your idea. You knew you’d want to be the one to deflower him, lest Finan actually bought him a whore one day like he said he would. No, you wanted to claim him for yourself. You just had to find the right moment.
Thankfully, there came a time when Uhtred had asked you and Osferth to spy on a Danish camp. It would be dangerous obviously, but you couldn’t help but celebrate in your mind when you realized the two of you would finally be alone together. It looked like Osferth was just happy he was being trusted with such an important task, although you would be there too.
You both set up camp a good distance away from the Danes’ campsite, some ways deep into the woods, making sure there would be no way they could spot you or hear you. You watched them all day, returning to your own campsite as the sun started to set. The trees blocking the light of the moon that you had to build a campfire to see as well as keep warm. But, you soon started thinking of other ways you could keep warm.
Osferth was nervous, you could tell. He didn’t look you in the eyes unless he had to. He probably would have preferred to go on this mission with Finan or Sihtric, but he had to deal with you alone now.
You tried your best to make conversation, but it never lasted more than a few sentences. It was frustrating. So, you did what you usually do best: make people uncomfortable.
“Have you ever been with a woman?” You asked suddenly, amused at the way Osferth immediately went wide-eyed and a wild blush coming to his cheeks. “I heard what Finan said at that tavern the other day, you seemed flustered as you are now.” He stuttered, no full words leaving his mouth due to your boldness. It gave you your answer. “So, I suppose Finan was right. You are a virgin.” You smirked teasingly.
Osferth finally quit his stuttering and sighed in defeat. “So what if I was?”
“You are a handsome lad, surely there have been offers from women before?”
“I mean…yes. Some.”
“And you never thought to take up those offers?”
He looked down in embarrassment. “It’s not like I didn’t want to, it’s just. I dunno, I feel like I wouldn’t want my first time to be with a stranger. Someone I don’t care about or know.”
“So would you hump someone you cared about?”
“When we were married, I suppose.”
You scoffed. “Why wait till marriage?”
“Because it’s a sin to be with someone before marriage, that’s what the Scripture says.”
“And what if you never get married?” You asked with an exasperated chuckle.
“Then I guess I’ll always be a virgin…” He shrugged, “Do you think me less of a man, my Lady?”
You shook your head with a smile. “No. I’m actually kinda glad you are.” He furrowed his brows in confusion, not understanding what you meant. “Because I wish to be the one to deflower you.” As if he couldn’t get any redder, he managed to do so, especially when you moved closer to him so you sat right beside him. He blinked a few times in shock, holding the cross attached to his necklace tightly.
“My Lady, I-I just told you, I can’t.”
You snickered. “Of course you can. I’ve seen the way you look at me, Osferth. I saw how your cock swelled when you saw me naked in the river that day. Did you even relieve yourself afterwards?” He stayed silent, and you hummed in disapproval. “What? Is it a sin to make yourself come too?” He nodded curtly and you rolled your eyes, placing your hand on his knee, slowly trailing up his thigh until he pushed you away and stood up from his spot on the ground.
“Stop. I made a vow, to myself and to God.”
You frowned. “Do you not like me?” And you tried to hide your smile as he immediately assured you that was not the case. You stood up and reached for him cautiously, seeing his internal struggle. “You’ve killed, betrayed your country, your home. Do you think breaking a simple vow will be any worse than all that, hm?”
“I never wanted to kill anyone.” He whispered, allowing you to run your hands up his chest and wrap around his shoulders.
“Then maybe you shouldn't have joined up with a group of heathens.” He was such a sheltered man, you wanted him to experience all he could. You wanted him to be with someone he knew and cared about, you weren’t going to let him be with some whore or stranger. He was looking down at you with confliction, eyes traveling from your own to your lips. You knew what he wanted, you just had to give him a little push.
Osferth let out a surprised hum when you pressed your lips against his without another word, catching him off guard so that he couldn’t reject your advances right away. But even as you kept kissing him, he never made a move to push you away nor did he intensify the kiss in any way. You tangled your fingers in his short hair, pulling hard enough that he gasped, allowing you to deepen the kiss. You smirked as he let out a breathy moan, you could already feel his hard on pressing against you. Your tongues touched briefly, but it seemed that shook him back into focus as he jolted away, his back turned to you. “You shouldn’t have done that, my Lady…” You heard him whisper shakily, you could see his hands trembling at his sides.
You said nothing as you walked to stand in front of him again, his innocent pleading eyes looking up at you, silently begging for you not to continue. But you did not listen, the throbbing at the apex of your thighs would not let you. “Please, Osferth…I can make you feel good.” You kissed his cheek cautiously, kissing all over his face until there was one spot left. He leaned in to kiss you himself this time, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing you against him tightly. You could feel a wetness on his face and you pulled back to see that he was crying.
“God, I want you so bad, I do.” He sniffled. “It hurts.” He winced.
“Then let me make the pain go away.” You cooed, removing your clothes until you were bare to the elements of Wessex. You shuddered as the wind hardened your nipples and cooled the slick that was already gathering at your cunt. Osferth moaned at the sight of you, not looking away this time like he did at the river. “Touch me.” You commanded softly, gently bringing one of his hands to cup your supple breasts. He squeezed them experimentally, looking to see if it brought you any discomfort, but it did quite the opposite. “I need you, Osferth.” You kissed him again passionately, your limbs going shaky as you felt desire overcome you.
He wordlessly allowed you to strip him naked, saying a silent prayer in his mind as his stiff cock was finally freed of its confines. You brought him to the ground, where you had laid furs for the night, seeing him look up at you on his back made you drool.
“Please,” Osferth begged, his cock already throbbing and you hadn’t even done anything but whisper your enchanting words in his ears. “don’t make me break my vow…”
“Shh, it’s okay. Just relax for me.” You whispered, throwing your leg over his waist, straddling him. Your pussy was already slick with anticipation of his sweet corruption. You could only imagine how pretty his lewd moans would sound.
Osferth hissed as you took his cock in your hand, rubbing the tip in between in your folds before lining him up with your entrance. You both moaned loudly as you sunk down on him, he stretched you out more than you anticipated. “Gods, you’re bigger than you look.” You whispered breathily.
“Am I hurting you?” He panicked instantly, but you simply smiled and shook your head. Such a sweet gentleman. You were so warm and wet, your walls clenching around him due to the intrusion, but he would be lying if he said it didn’t feel so damn good; like heaven on earth. “Oh, my Lord God, have mercy on my soul…” He begged as he clutched his cross in his hand tightly as you grinded down on him. He looked up at you in awe as if you were an angel, he could practically see your halo as he suddenly came.
You giggled as he filled you up, watching as his eyes rolled to the back of his skull, his mouth opened wide as he let out a long, pained moan. “That was quick. Was it that good?” You smirked, loving the way his face flushed with embarrassment.
“I’m sorry, my Lady.” He stuttered, but you silenced him with a kiss.
“Don’t be.”
Osferth’s eyes filled with tears, the light from the campfire making his piercing blue eyes shine as he stared at the cross in his hand. “What have I done, Lord?” He whimpered pitifully, and you almost felt sorry for him if it wasn’t for the fact that he was still rock hard inside your cunt.
“Ready to go again so soon?” You chuckled darkly, moving your hips back and forth, causing him to let out a whine.
“No, don’t, not again-”
“You’ve already broken your vow, sweet monk. What more harm could you do now?” He looked up at you with a remorseful expression, the weight of what he had done heavy on his chest. You slowly lifted yourself off, slamming back down on him to elicit a cry from his soft lips. “So sensitive. But I suppose since I got what I wanted, I can stop-”
“No!” Osferth interrupted, surprising himself and you. He looked entirely conflicted as he placed his shaking hands on your hips, keeping you in place and not allowing you to remove himself from you. “No…you’re right. I’ve broken my vow. I can’t change that now. I suppose...I can enjoy this?”
“Yes, sweet baby monk. Let yourself enjoy this. Indulge in the feeling of me.” You moaned, continuing to rock your hips, a gasp escaping your lips as your clit brushed up against his pelvis as the head of his cock started to rub up against that sensitive spot inside you that always made you see stars. “Gods, you’re perfect. I wish we had done this sooner.” Osferth moaned at your words, his cock twitching inside you and making butterflies swirl in his stomach. You raked your nails down his bare chest, hearing soft whimpers escaping his mouth as you rode him. “How does it feel?” You asked, struggling to keep in your high pitched moans.
“Good, my Lady.” He stuttered. “So good.” You moaned as Osferth started to buck up into you, losing himself in his own pleasure and making you feel amazing in return. “Does it always feel so heavenly?” He groaned, tightening his grip on your hips, the dull pain making a shock of euphoria reverberate through your entire body for a split second.
“No, not for women at least.”
“Is…is there anything I can do to make it feel good for you too?” He asked innocently, but his eyes expressed something else, a slight darkness to them, his pupils so blown out you could barely see his bright blue irises anymore.
You grinned as you took one of his hands off your hip, bringing it to your cunt. “Rub circles with your thumb right here.” You guided him to your clit, even what little pressure he put had your head reeling.
“Like this, my Lady?”
“A bit more pressure.” You cried out as he listened to your instructions diligently. “Yes, yes, gods, just like that.” Osferth smiled proudly, helping you ride him as he rubbed your clit attentively. You threw your head back as you were nearing your own peak, the man beneath you learning faster than anyone else you’ve ever been with. “Such a good boy.” You whined, your hands grasping and scratching at your tits.
You squeaked as Osferth suddenly flipped you over onto your back, knocking the breath from your lungs as he pounded into you with abandon. Like a switch finally flipped inside him, he was taking pleasure for himself, finding confidence just like he found the courage to fight and kill alongside everyone on Uhtred’s team. You hoped you had created a monster. The way he was fucking into you, if you didn’t know he had only been a virgin half an hour ago, you would have believed he had experience beyond your years. He still had the decency to continue caring for your sensitive nub, forcing your body into overdrive as you kept climbing and climbing to reach that peak. Now you were the one whining and whimpering, how the tables turned.
With his cock continuously hitting that special spot inside of you and your stimulated clit, accompanied by the sound of Osferth’s skin slapping against yours wetly along with his soft moans in your ear, you felt that intense ecstasy you had been craving wash over you like a tidal wave. You prayed to the gods that the Dane’s camp, however many miles away, would not be able to hear your loud strained moan as you came. “Gods, Osferth!” You cried out, your hands holding onto his shoulder with a vice grip that would surely leave bruises just like he must’ve done to your hips.
“Christ-!” Osferth groaned, gripping one of your breasts as he fucked a second load into you, his vision going blurry as his second orgasm was much more powerful than the first. It was too much and not enough, all he could do was ride it out until the feeling went away.
When it seemed he came back to your realm, you were looking up at him with a proud grin. He couldn’t help but grin back, the afterglow making him dazed and giddy. “You made me come, sweet Osferth. Not many people have achieved such a feat.”
“I don’t believe you, my Lady.” He smiled, pulling out of you with a hiss and laying down beside you. It was true, but even if it wasn’t, you still wanted to stroke his ego just to see the blush on his face. “Now I understand why some take a vow of celibacy.”
You giggled, turning to lay on your stomach, resting on your elbows. “Why?”
“Because I think I could worship you now, and the Scripture says that you shall not have any gods before Him.” He smirked boyishly, trailing his pointer finger across your jawline, stopping his path to rest the finger on your bottom lip.
You gently kissed the tip of his finger, his eyes watching you intently. “As much as it might be fun to be worshiped, I have no intention to steal you away from your god.”
“You already have, my Lady.”
Needless to say, your mission for Uhtred went well. You managed to signal the rest of the group when the Danes were off guard, slaughtering everyone you all could before they retreated. And your recent lover Osferth had just the way to celebrate the newest victory.
i am such a heathen, something me and Uhtred have in common i guess
1K notes
·
View notes
This is for a Danish assignment. so, I gotta go with the Danish age of consent ^^
85 notes
·
View notes
I Want a Little Sugar in My Bowl
Title: I Want a Little Sugar in My Bowl
Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI
Pairing: Napoleon Solo x Reader
Fandom: The Man from U.N.C.L.E.
Word Count: 2.5K
Summary: Napoleon wines and dines.
Warnings: barely any 60s references so if you were looking for that I'm sorry, incorrect table manners, a little bit of Daddy kink, unprotected p-in-v because these are fictional characters
A/N: The title is taken from the song “I Want a Little Sugar in My Bowl” by Nina Simone. Literally the naughtiest and sweetest title at the exact same time. A very sexy song, if you have never heard it, do yourself a favor!!! Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.
Dividers by: @saradika
Support/Reblog banner by me
Cover Art by me
My Masterlist
“What is a lovely little rose like you doing all alone in a place like this?”
The voice startles you as you sip your espresso at the corner cafe. Of course, being alone in a cafe had its downsides. This wasn’t the first time you were approached here. This wasn’t the first time you were approached today, even. You look up to see who the voice belongs to and you almost drop your teeny cup.
The jawline alone had your panties in a cinch. But the eyes, those are what draw you in. The blue of his eyes was like out of a painting, and you could hardly say you’d ever seen anyone with a tiny golden-brown spot in their left eye. Was that his only flaw? From here, it appeared so. The suit he wore was perfectly tailored. His shoes were shiny like a new penny. You were shaken from your ogling by his voice again.
“Have I passed inspection, Miss…?” You give your name and he tests it out on his tongue. “A beautiful name for a beautiful rose,” With a flick of his wrist, a gorgeous and very real rose appears in his hands and he hands it to you.
You sputter out a laugh as you reach for the rose. He tilts his head as he watches you lift the flower to your nose, inhaling its sweet scent. He walks around the table and sits across from you, almost daring you to tell him to get lost. But, of course, you don’t. You are delighted to see where this may lead.
“So, what is a man dressed so well doing talking to a girl like me? Surely, you must be on your way to some type of important, or at least, fancy meeting?” You sit back, eyeing the man whose name you still haven’t caught.
“I’ll let you in a little secret. I’ve seen you here before. I know you go to the local college and after class, you like to stop here for an espresso before boarding a train back to wherever it is that you live. You’ll be happy to know I have not followed you back to your home. But, sometimes you get a sweet treat. A cinnamon roll on Mondays, perhaps a cherry and cheese danish on Wednesdays, but on Fridays? You spring for something devilish.” He ends his sentence just as your slice of devil’s food cake is set in front of you by the waiter.
“You really have been watching me. A girl with a different head on her shoulders may be nervous knowing she’s being watched. But, you don’t scare me,” you smile at him and start to dig into your cake, “If anything, I’d love to know why you find me so interesting. I mean, there are girls here with shorter skirts than mine.”
“The skirt wasn’t exactly what I was after,” his eyes linger on your mouth as your fork slowly glides back out of it, “Company. That’s mostly what I’m after. Your company. Not theirs.”
“I don’t even know your name, Mr…” You eagerly wait to hear the mysterious man’s name.
“I’ll give you my name, but I’ll need a promise that I may cook you dinner. No dinner, no name. And we act like this little conversation never happened,” he licks his lips, watching you watching him, “So, what do you say, my little rose? Will I introduce myself or will I walk off, doomed to enjoy dinner alone?”
You set down your fork, suddenly uninterested in the last bite of your cake. But instead of pushing the plate to the side, you run your pointer finger through a bit of the icing left behind. Raising your hand and pushing your chair back, you saunter over to the man’s chair. Sitting in his lap, much to the chagrin of the other couples on the terrace. You wipe the icing on his bottom lip. Leaning in while keeping eye contact, you lick away the chocolate until you take his bottom lip between your teeth. His eyes close for but a second and the slightest grunt escapes between his lips and into your mouth.
“I believe I’ve made my intentions clear but I’ll make sure they are crystal. I’m not some delicate flower, I can handle myself. And as handsome and mysterious as you are, if you try anything I don’t feel comfortable with, I’ll handle you as well. We have an understanding, I presume?”
“You presume correctly. And please, I didn’t call you a poppy or a tulip. You’re a rose. A beautiful flower, but the thorns are treacherous. I’ll make sure you keep those at bay.”
“You owe me a name, pretty boy.” You insist, adjusting your seating in his lap and feeling a hefty bulge underneath you.
“Napoleon Solo.”
“Let’s go, then, Napoleon. I’m famished and I could use something a bit more substantial than that tiny slice of cake.”
Napoleon rises, his hands on your hips as he sets you on your feet. He waits for you to pick up your belongings, walks around the table, and grabs your hand to lead you off the terrace. He walks you to his car, opening the door for you to get in. This was your last chance to change your mind, but, you were having way too much fun.
You ride to his apartment building, and a valet takes the keys to his car before he opens the door for you to exit. A swanky place where it looks like the only people who can afford to stay here must have Esquire or some kind of title attached to their name. You decide to toss caution to the wind because it isn’t like you are staying here. It’s Napoleon who is, and you are is his guest.
You take the elevator up, making out with the tall and gorgeous stranger. The elevator rises as well as his hand up your skirt. Just as his hand reaches the top of your thigh, the elevator signals your arrival on the fourth floor. Napoleon takes your hand and leads you to Apartment 412. He unlocks the door and lets you enter first.
“So, my little rose, I was thinking for dinner I will make us Beef Bourguignon. And for dessert, what say we make it up as we go along?”
“As long as you don’t expect me to do all the cooking, I’m happy to sit back and eat and be merry, Napoleon.”
“Perfect, my little rose. Feel free to make yourself a drink, and do turn on some music. I do better with a bit of background noise.”
You busy yourself with making an Old Fashioned, finding everything at your fingertips and ready to go. You take a sip and groan inwardly as the bourbon warms your insides. You walk from the little makeshift bar into the kitchen and offer Napoleon a sip. He applauds your drink-making skills and ushers you back out to the record player as he dons an apron and begins to cook.
You busy yourself with looking at records while soon the smells of sauteed beef reach your nostrils. You only refresh your drink once while listening to Nina Simone Sing the Blues. Her dulcet tones woo you as the bourbon in your drink loosens you up. You don’t notice that you are being watched as Napoleon walks over and fixes himself a White Russian.
He watches as you sway and sing along with Nina. It’s only a matter of time before the timer in the kitchen sounds and he leaves you to your enjoyment of the music. He makes your plates, sets the table, and lights the few candles that sit therein. He pours you both a glass of pinot noir. His last step is to come and beckon you to your dinner. He does so by sidling up behind you and placing his hands gently on your shoulders as his lips dip down to your ears.
“Dinner’s ready, my little rose.” He takes your hand and leads you to the table, pulling your chair out for you in a gesture that wasn’t necessary but is quite romantic. If you weren’t already a bit light-headed from the Old Fashioned, that would have done it!
“Napoleon, this smells amazing. Are you sure you didn’t have some minions in the kitchen helping you to prepare this?”
“I promise, it was just me. Try it, tell me if it needs anything.”
You take a bite of the aromatic beef stew and it melts in your mouth. You can’t exactly help the satisfied groan that escapes your lips, much to the enjoyment of Napoleon.
“I take it you like it then?” The smug smile looks good on him, damn that man.
“Oh, I like it, Mr. Solo. You sure know your way to this woman’s heart. And that is through her stomach.”
He raises his glass of wine, and you raise yours as well. “To my little rose, may she only leave here satisfied. In every which way she chooses to be.”
You clink your glass against his and take a sip, knowing full well that you are going to sleep with this man before the night is over. Or at least, you hope to. You’d like to see what his face looks like in the throes of passion. And there is nothing sexier than a man who knows how to engage all of your senses in one meal.
You finish dinner and wipe your mouth, feeling for all the world like a stuffed pig. You were happy and you were tipsy and you wanted Napoleon to know just how grateful you were. But weren’t you promised dessert?
“So, dessert then?” You ask.
“You stay seated, I’ll get these out of the way before we start on dessert.” Napoleon wipes his own mouth and comes to collect your plates and take them to the kitchen. When he comes back to the table, he easily pulls your chair back and lifts you easily onto the dining room table. At your look of confusion, he smirks yet again. “Did I not tell you that I would be enjoying you as dessert, my little rose?”
“No, I don’t believe you mentioned that. But, I do believe we both will enjoy that. Do your worst, Mr. Solo.” You position your thighs for Napoleon to remove your panties. He sits in your chair, pulling himself up to the table and setting your legs over his shoulders.
He kisses your thighs slowly until you are whimpering for him to take you out of your misery. He obliges by pulling your ass to the very edge of the table and using the flat of his tongue to lick a strip up your sex. An inhuman sound exits your mouth and you have absolutely no fucks to give at this point.
“You taste like Heaven, my little rose,” he kisses your swollen nub and looks up at you, “but how do you feel?” He uses a single finger to circle your button a couple of times before drawing a line to your entrance. He enters your core slowly and his finger is a perfect fit. Not too much, not too little. Just enough to start to open you up. He starts to kiss and suck at your clit until your hand finds purchase in his chestnut locks. He lets you pull him down into your pussy, savoring every little spasm of your canal.
Before long, a second and a third finger join the first and your moans bounce off of the walls. With one curve of his fingers, he finds your inner bundle of nerves and you reward him with a squeezing of your cunt and the melody of your orgasm. He licks up every drop of your nectar off you, and as he pulls out his fingers, he sucks them dry as well.
He stands, unbuttoning his slacks and fisting his cock while looking at your sweet blissed-out little face. “Can my little rose take some more dessert?”
“Yes, Daddy, please?” You whine, wrapping your legs around Napoleon’s waist and drawing him closer.
“That’s my good little rose,” he praised, lining himself up and entering you swiftly, “Ohhhhh, you take me so well. Best dessert I’ve ever had.”
He leans down to kiss you as he pulls out slightly and slams back in, swallowing your moans. Holding your face in his hands, he begins a steady rhythm inside you and hits your spots as if you had created his dick in a lab in some odd science experiment.
Soon, he drags orgasm after orgasm out of you until all you can say is Daddy and Yes. An endless stream of nonsensical noises comes out as well, but Napoleon is all too happy to commit those to memory while not commenting on them. He just continues to pound into you mercilessly, chasing his own release now that your juices cover the front of his slacks.
“Are you ready for Daddy to fill you?” He asks, a bruising hold on your hips as he plows into you.
“Yes, Daddy, yes!” You gasp, tears falling down your cheeks as you are overstimulated.
“Fuuuuuck, such a good little rose!” He exclaims as his hips settle flush against yours.
You can feel every twitch of his dick as he empties inside you. You watch as the sweat from his brow drips down his temple as his eyes close. You hear his breathing pick up as he tries to steady himself. The heady scent of sex in the air intoxicates you. You grab him by the tie and pull him down to kiss you. All five senses are ablaze with Napoleon Solo.
Your hand through his hair is what allows him the strength to open his eyes again. He looks at you as though you hung the moon. He remains inside you as he slots his lips against yours before resting in the crook of your neck.
“Gotta love a man that cooks. You can always stuff me twice.” You laugh, not being able to stop yourself from accidentally pushing Napoleon out of you.
“Really? A joke right now?” He laughs, standing to his full height and looking down to see his spend leaking out of you.
“I couldn’t help myself, Mr. Solo. It just…came to me.”
“I bet, my little rose.” He helps you down from the table and ushers you to the bathroom as he cleans the rest of the table up.
You clean yourself up and meet Napoleon back in the living room as he sits on the couch. You enjoy listening to some more music and having a few more drinks with him, forgetting all about your train home.
You wanted a little sugar in your bowl, after all. And you got it and then some. This man was sweet enough to give you cavities ten times over and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
**Tag List**
@brattymum96 @ambinxe @avengersfan25 @kebabgirl67
@astheskycries @enchantedbytomandhenry
[@mayloma @littlefreya I tagged you both because of the reblogs earlier lol]
**Let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list and for what plz 😁**
390 notes
·
View notes
Mk, so, how about Liu, and any other characters of your choice with an S/O who has selective-mutism, but one day they just randomly decide to say something, but it’s in a completely different language. Idk where I got the idea from.
a/n: i saw liu's name and i couldn't restrain myself. i'm monolingual so i had to use various translation sites so if these are incorrect then i am so sorry. nd i opted to just have the reader randomly say 'i love you' because that seemed like an easy phrase to not butcher. except for liu. with what i wrote, i did have to give a full phrase other than 'i love you' and i put it through multiple translation sites so uhm fingers crossed that it's accurate uhm if you speak danish and it isn't then first off i am so sorry and second off can you please tell me what the actual translation is anyways this is a long note sorry fdhjfh hope you enjoy!!
with a selectively mute s/o that speaks in a different language.
includes: homicidal liu, the doll maker, nurse ann, and clockwork.
warnings: gn reader, it's honestly mostly just sappy, liu downplays a stab wound but that's really it.
HOMICIDAL LIU.
Liu doesn't really think about your selective mutism. You'll talk to him whenever you're comfortable, and if that's never then that's fine with him. All he cares about is your comfort.
Besides, if you ask him, he does enough talking for the both of you. At least... he thinks he talks a lot. It definitely feels like it. And who knows, he probably just teaches you morse code so you two can communicate like that.
And little did either of you know, today was the day you'd speak to him for the first time. And not for good reason, sadly. You see, Liu... isn't necessarily a careful person when it comes to his own safety.
So he may or may not have gotten hurt. But it's not like it's a life-threatening injury or anything like that! Besides, he's taught himself how to treat minor wounds like this. Really, it isn't that big of a deal.
You think otherwise, because, uh, he was fucking stabbed. Who the hell considers a stab wound a 'minor' injury?!
So when you saw him cleaning and stitching up a stab wound, this obviously led to some bickering between the two of you. Liu is telling you that he's okay, while you're aggressively telling him via morse code that he's been stabbed and that he needs to get professional medical attention. But Liu was fine. He's gone through way worse than this, so you really don't have to worry.
But him saying that just leads to you throwing up your hands in frustration as you say, "Dammit, kan du ikke se, at jeg er bekymret, fordi jeg elsker dig?!"
And... well... Liu doesn't really know what you just said but he feels really bad knowing that this is what made you speak to him for the first time.
He'll sigh and apologize for not taking his injuries seriously, and he promises to get professional help rather than just treating it himself. He... is legally classified as dead, so he can't go to a hospital but... I mean... he knows a guy who was studying medicine. And a very suspicious doctor.
THE DOLL MAKER.
Vine's native tongue is Russian, so more often than not he'll mutter to himself in his mother tongue rather than any other language.
He doesn't really care if you speak or not, mostly because he feels more comfortable in the silence. He's not the best at holding conversations.
He was busy making a doll with non-human parts this time around. And you were roaming around his little workshop, inspecting all his half-finished projects and sketches of future dolls he planned on making.
Vine trusts you to be around his work, so he's not worried about you accidentally making a mess or breaking anything but he does find himself feeling a little nervous.
Dollmaking is his passion, it's something he loves doing. And he loves you as well and values your opinion more than anyone else's. What if you think he's not doing a good job? What if you think he could make something better?
You've never given him the impression that you dislike dolls or find his creations and passion to be 'childish' but it's still a thought that lingers in his mind nonetheless. Thoughts like this constantly plague his mind.
But when he glances away from the doll he's working on to see you gently straightening out the dress of another one that's on display, a small smile gracing your lips as you admire his creation...
"Я тебя люблю." The words just sorta slipped out of his mouth, and it took him a moment before he went to repeat what he said in English but you spoke before he could even open his mouth.
"Я тебя тоже люблю." And oh. That's the first time he's ever heard you speak, he thinks.
NURSE ANN.
She too is selectively mute, though she doesn't speak because it physically hurts to more often than not, and also... she sees no real reason to talk, to be honest.
You two probably communicate via sign language or writing, though she'll quietly whisper to you if she has to.
Ann doesn't care if you talk or not. She gets it, even if you two have vastly different reasons for your selective mutism.
She's not going to have that big a reaction when you do talk, though she will tilt her head to the side a bit when you speak in an entirely different language.
It'll probably happen while the two of you are spending time together in silence, Ann doing her own thing while you're sitting nearby.
She was caught up in her own little task, mind empty. She was vaguely aware of your gaze on her, but she only really came back to reality when she heard you sigh and softly murmur to yourself.
"Ich liebe dich."
She blinks, taking a moment to process your words. She... doesn't understand German, but the way you softly spoke the words, and the way you were looking at her with such fondness... well, she had a vague idea of what you said.
And very quietly, she whispers back, "Love you too."
CLOCKWORK.
Natalie seems like the type of person who wants to learn a new language, and even begins starting to, but her motivation for it just evaporates two days after starting and she stops trying to learn. And it's just a cycle that rinses, washes, and repeats itself.
Anyways, she overthinks a lot and needs constant reassurance more than she would like, so at the beginning of your relationship, communication was probably a little rocky.
But you guys manage to come up with other ways to communicate rather than vocally.
She'll catch herself wondering what your voice sounds like, and she'll sometimes wonder if you'll ever feel comfortable enough around her to speak but she doesn't push you to talk.
She understands, trust me.
But she's definitely surprised when you wake her up from her nap just to look her in the eye and bluntly say, "Anh yêu em." and you don't even give her a chance to process it before you walk away.
She's just baffled and confused. What the hell did you just say to her? You just spoke. What the hell did you say? Is she dreaming? She feels awake. She's definitely awake.
Natalie has to dig around for her phone to try and search for the translation of what you said, and it takes her a few tries before she finally manages to type it out correctly. She definitely buries her face in a pillow when she reads the translation. And she ends up falling back asleep.
It's only when she wakes up again that she'll go and find you. She'll wrap her arms around your waist and rest her forehead on your shoulder before placing a gentle kiss there and tiredly murmuring, "I love you too."
123 notes
·
View notes
Propaganda
Asta Nielsen (Hamlet)—She played a version of Hamlet in which Hamlet was in love with Horatio because he was a woman raised to pretend to be a man, and nothing else about the story is changed. Her depiction has inspired countless people and did SHRIMP things to my gender and sexuality. A vote for Asta is a vote for queer goths everywhere 🖤
Maude Fealy (King Rene’s Daughter, David Copperfield)—She served cunt all the time
This is round 2 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]
Asta Nielsen:
"One of the best Hamlets I've ever seen, she's so expressive I can feel her pain. Also, goth girl/boy realness."
"I just think she is neat. She was the first real movie icon in Europe, known for her big dark eyes, 1,70m/5'7 height, and "boyish figure" which gave her an androgynous allure. She opposed the Nazi regime. Also, her role in Hamlet is not Ophelia. She plays Hamlet."
"I suspect the non-american silent movie stars are gonna be in the minority, so I'm gonna be at least throwing her name in the ring. Great danish dame, one of the very first female silent movie stars (wiki says "one of the first international movie stars")! Best Hamlet to ever To Be Or Not To Be and absolutely gender envy. Her career unfortunately did not survive the transition to talkies (she however lived pretty long)."
"I think she's not as iconic in America as she is in Europe, because her films got censored over there, but she really is the original sex symbol of film. I need everyone to take a look at her as Hamlet and to have watched this clip of her dance in The Abyss before you vote. It was hot then and it's still hot now!!!"
Maude Fealy propaganda:
225 notes
·
View notes