#CoE Authors Answer

[costofeverythingaskblog]

WILL OVERHAUL KIDNAP SHINSOU!? I NEED ANSWERS! also i cant wait for your next post!

Wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy?

[monzabee]

what you do to me – lh44 (+18)

masterlist

Summary: The one where Lewis returns home to you – the one thing he desperately wants, but won't let himself have completely.

Pairing: lewis hamilton x fwb!reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: angst, feelings, friends with benefits relationship, smut!, slight choking, unprotected sex (wrap your willy, don’t be silly!), slight manhandling?, pwp, minors dni!!

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! my boyfriend forced me to watch hellraiser the other day, and there was this one scene that i could just not thinking about so i wanted to write something inspired by it, and who better to write it about than sir lewis hamilton?? also, i reaaaallly wanted to write a friends with benefits thing and it was so much fun, i honestly wasn’t expecting. the title of this fic is actually a john legend song that i love and i think it fits the vibes for this fic, so please feel free to give it a listen if you're interested! i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

It’s a shame Lewis doesn’t spend more time in his Monte Carlo penthouse during the season because it’s a space he enjoys spending time in so much. He doesn’t mind being alone in his home – if anything, it’s refreshing after spending so much time being the focal point of so many cameras during the season. Also, technically, he is not alone he supposes; he has Roscoe to keep him company when he’s home, after all.

Coming home from a successful season is rewarding, he feels as if he’s deserved the rest he looks forward to. On the other hand, coming home from a not-so-successful season? Well he feels like shit – both mentally and physically. That is not to say that he doesn’t appreciate the time off, though, he is more than happy to not drive for weeks and just enjoy the winter break. Coming home is also always kind of bittersweet. He catches up with some of his friends he didn’t have time for during the season, his family who always support him through thick and thin, but most importantly he tries to make time for you and your… well, arrangement.

He knows something is wrong the minute you reply to his text about him being home. A simple okay is not a response he is used to getting from you. Alas, he shakes off the unease and chalks it up to a hectic day on your end. The pitter patter of Roscoe’s paws on the hardwood floors is enough to distract him from the situation, given the fact that the puppy is impatient for his dinner and is looking at the driver with pleading eyes.

“Okay ‘Coe,” he mumbles as he motions the kitchen with his head, “let’s go.”

The way Roscoe wobbles towards the kitchen brings a small smile to Lewis’ face even though he is still hung up on your answer. After he’s done feeding the puppy, he decides to grab a quick shower to ease the tiredness that comes from a long travel day. The hot water cascading down from the rainfall shower does a good job of taking care of his sore muscles, and he is more than happy to stay under the warm water if it means the soreness will go away. That is until he hears banging coming from his front door. He has every intention of just ignoring the person on the other side of the door; however, as the knocks get more and more persistent, he gets out of the shower with a groan. Wrapping a towel around his hips, he marches towards the front door, and looks through the peephole only to end up opening the door quicker than he would’ve liked.

His voice is confused as he mumbles out, “Lovey?” But you just straighten up from your position of leaning against the wall and throw your bag on the floor as you push your way through his apartment and wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him into a hug. He doesn’t miss the way your breath hitches as you attempt to hide yourself in the crook of his neck, and he is not sure what he’s supposed to do with his hands for a moment. “Hey,” he calls out softly, “what’s wrong?”

You pull back slightly to look into his worried eyes, “Just kiss me.” Your voice comes out somewhere between a whisper and a sob, and you can see the hesitation in Lewis’ eyes, but you just pull him towards you as you press a soft kiss on his lips, “Please.”

“What happened?” He tries once again to get an answer from you, but you shut down his attempt as you press your lips against his once more, more assertive this time. And who is he to deny you your wishes? So, like the perfect gentleman he is, he reciprocates your kiss with a one of his own as he wraps his arms around you to signal you to jump. Thankfully, you are so tuned with each other that you end up jumping up anyway, and he picks you up as you wrap your legs around his hips. Closing the door, he starts walking back towards his bedroom as your lips start moving more frantically against his own. “Slow down,” he warns, pulling back to give both of you a chance to breathe, “we have all night.”

Whining at the loss of contact from his lips, and you let your dissatisfaction known by attempting to roll your hips against his bare stomach, “Don’t wanna.” There’s still a lingering sob in your voice, but it is more reflective of the neediness you feel now that you have him between your arms – and legs. Lewis lets his hands roam down towards your ass to give you a warning squeeze – a one, maybe you would’ve been threatened by it if you weren’t so lost in him at the moment. You try your best to ignore the look he gives you, one filled with sternness; so instead, you move your lips downwards towards Lewis’ neck with another roll of your hips. “I missed you.”

He stills the movement of your hips as he simultaneously releases an appreciative groan at the way your lips feel on his skin. “I missed you too, lovey.” He is careful as he approaches his bed and sits down on the plush mattress with you still in his arms. Wrapping a hand around your hair to tilt your head back so he can look into your eyes again, he attempts to keep himself from becoming hard from the mere prospect of you wrapping your body around his. His eyes search yours for answers as to your sour mood, “Tell me what’s wrong, bad day?”

“Try bad month,” you scoff, letting your hands slide over his, somehow, still damp torso. “You weren’t here,” you explain as you free yourself from his hold on your hair and take off your sweatshirt, “don’t wan’ to talk about it.”

“Well, I’m here now.” A sudden realisation that you are not wearing anything under your top comes to Lewis, and he has to mentally restrain himself from doing something rash. “Not wearing a bra?” He asks, one of his eyebrows raised.

You let out a confirming hum, “Not wearing any underwear either.” Giving him an innocent smile at the groan he gets out, you shrug your shoulders nonchalantly, “Thought they’d get in the way.” His hands feel warm on your bare skin as he drags them up on your body to gently cup your exposed breasts, causing you to brace yourself by hanging onto his shoulder for support. Whining as you feel his thumb make contact with your sensitive nipple, you decide to pull him in for another kiss, mumbling a breathy, “Kiss me,” against his lips. 

He obliges your request, of course, but he doesn’t let you control the kiss like you would’ve liked to. Instead, he stops the kiss by gently biting down on your lip before you can deepen it. With a small pat to your hip, he mumbles, “Get up, let me see you.” The look he gives you is just so full of adoration that you have no other choice to get up from his lap with the slowest moves you can muster. His eyes never leave you when you take a step back so that he can see you, all of you, and with the small nod he gives you, you begin taking off your leggings and shoes. That’s the thing about Lewis – for someone who is in the spotlight most of their time, he loves watching. And it is not only limited to the bedroom, you realise, he watches you even when you are doing mundane things together, like grocery shopping or walking Roscoe, domestic things that couples do together. But you can’t think about that, no, because both of you agreed that this was only physical and nothing more. Shaking the thoughts away, you straighten up from your bent position only to find Lewis looking you with a much darker look in his eyes. He’s dangerous, when he looks like that, you realise, he could break you into pieces with just his words, and the worst part is that you’d absolutely let him. “Pretty girl,” he whispers into the distance between you, and you take the hand he extends towards you for him to pull you against himself. The feeling of his lips on your skin almost feel feverish, and you find yourself releasing a gasp. “You’re the prettiest girl ever, lovey.”

“Lewis,” you brokenly whisper, your voice would be bordering on whiny with all the neediness that comes with it, “please, I need you.” The pleading look you give him is vulnerable, if not desperate.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs against your skin, his lips leaving another open-mouthed kiss, this time closer to your lower belly. His voice does a good job of soothing your erratic mind, his arms envelope you as he promises, “Whatever it is I’m here now, tell me what you want.”

He does a good job of putting you on the spot, you think, but unlike your usual self, you don’t have the patience for teasing tonight. “I want you to fuck me,” your voice comes off stronger than before, but it wavers as you also add, “please.” The last word brings a small smirk to Lewis’ face, and you let out a shriek as he quickly throws you onto the bed. “You almost scared me to death,” you complain, pushing out your lower lip in a pout.

“You’ll be fine,” he lets out a breathy laugh while quickly getting rid of the towel still, miraculously, hanging on his hips. The smirk on his face grows as he watches you shamelessly checking him out, but he never breaks his gaze from yours when your eyes meet as he wraps a hand around his cock to jerk himself for a few times. You spread your legs to accommodate his body as he leans over your lying figure by using his free arm as support. Rubbing the tip of his cock through your slick slit a few times, you can feel his breathy chuckle hit your skin while his lips run over your jaw to leave small kisses. “You’re so wet for me,” he mumbles, and the whimper that leaves your lips when he makes a point to rub his tip over your clit wins another chuckle, “you’re gonna be good for me?”

“Uh-huh,” you mumble as you nod frantically, “yes Lu, I’m gonna be good, I promise. Please, just fuck me.” You try to tempt him by wrapping your legs around his hips and pulling him closer – either you are successful and he gives in, or he is just as desperate to get inside you as you are desperate to feeling him because he complies with your movements as he nudges the tip of his cock into you in a slow push forward. The stretch is burning every single time, and usually he gives you enough time to accommodate his size before proceeding to fuck your brains out. But this time, he doesn’t waste any time as he pushes himself fully into you until he’s buried inside you to the hilt. The gasp you begin to let out turns into a silent scream as the feeling of being full consumes you, “Fuck, Lewis–”

“Shh, it’s okay,” he soothes you through the initial pain, “you’re alright, just breathe th for a bit.” And you do what he tells you to because… well, you know he won’t do anything to hurt you. He brings his free hand towards your face to cup your cheek, which you respond by turning your head towards the warmness. “Tell me when the pain goes away,” he whispers against your skin – he finds he absolutely loves the way your skin flushes every single time he fucks you, and the thought makes him freeze for a second. Love? That is not something he should be thinking about, not especially when he’s buried inside you, because you both agreed–

Deciding to respond wordlessly, you press a soft kiss in the middle of Lewis’ palm, whilst also attempting to roll your hips, but then whining because of the additional pressure, “Please, Lewis, please move.”

That must’ve done the job of breaking Lewis out of whatever trance he was in, because once he hears your whiny voice pleading him to move, he starts thrusting his hip in and out of you in a rhythm that simply leaves you breathless in mere seconds. It’s the stress of the season, you think to yourself, but Lewis’ movements just get faster and deeper until he hits that one spot inside you that makes your whines turn into a scream and has you arching into him. You can’t see his reaction with your eyes fluttered close, but he stills his movements for a few moments as he looks at you as if you’re the most precious thing in his life. He waits until your erratic breathing to get back to normal before he starts rolling his hips against yours again, but this time the tempo he adopts is much slower, sensual, and almost… too intimate for it to only be considered physical between the two of you.

Your eyes flutter open as you look at him with confusion, “Wha– What are you–?” But he only cuts you off by pressing his lips against you to swallow your question in a kiss. The slower tempo is surprisingly more pleasurable then his usual style that you’ve dubbed fast and furious, and every time his hips roll at a certain angle, he brushes your clit in a way that makes your feet curl in pleasure.

He is breathless when he pulls away from the kiss and rests his forehead against yours, but then again, so are you. The way he seems to gaze into your eyes make your breath hitch, and if you thought that was Lewis showing his emotions, he decides to put them into words. “So good for me, lovey,” he moans, yes moans because one thing you’ve learned from the start is that real men moan, “you were made for me, weren’t you?” His accent gets thicker, which is a tell that he’s getting there, but he won’t let himself come before he makes sure you’re taken care of. “Look at how you’re taking me, reckon I can feel myself if I place my hand on your belly?” It makes him laugh when you whine as you attempt to slither your hand towards your stomach to test his theory, but one deep stroke of his hips and your arms envelope them around his shoulders to use him as a support. “Perfect, you’re just perfect for me, hm? My perfect, pretty, little girl.”

“Please,” you whimper out, the tears that form in the corner of your eyes threatening to fall, “I’m so close.” It’s been such an emotional day, and a shitty month that all you wanted was to be consumed by him –  and now that you have him in your arms, acting like you are more than just two friends who use each other for something so trivial and human as urges, you don’t want to let him go. Especially not when he makes you feel like you could love him for the rest of your life. Even if just the thought of it is enough to make your heart race. Needless to say, the sob you let out is unexpected on both of your ends, and you know he’s about to stop when he slows down even more, but you give him a stern look through your tears, “Don’t you dare stop.” You moan, loud enough for his neighbours downstairs to hear, once he picks up the pace again, but it’s still slow enough for it to be considered love making and not fucking by both of your standards.

He knows you’re close when your walls start clenching around him, which makes it much harder for him to compose himself. So, being the perfect gentleman he is, he starts rubbing your clit with one of his hands, his fingers work hard to bring you even more pleasure. He watches in amazement as you trash around under his body and as your whimpers and moans get louder gradually – until you are coming undone around him, starting to sob because of the pressure gets released in your tummy, that is. His hips still continue their languid movements, just like the faster movement of his fingers, as he fucks you through your release, mumbling sweet nothings and encouragements into your ear. Lewis does his best to kiss the tears that escape from your eyes, his breath fanning over your feverish skin.

“So good,” your moans get softer as you get calmer after a while, though your voice is still scratchy, “wanna feel you more, Lu.” Sliding your hand between your bodies to take his hand away from your clit, the loss of his touch makes you whine softly and he watches you in confusion while still continuing his movements slowly, but you see the way his eyes light up with a dark look when you wrap his fingers around your throat, and thankfully he understands the message as he tightens his hold just the way you like it. “Yeah, just like that,” you moan, encouraging him to pick up the pace. This time, it’s your turn to whisper praises riddled with encouragement, and you know it gets to him, because every single stroke his hips deliver end up making him fill you more and more, as if that was possible. The sobs coming from your lips transform into ones of pleasure, bringing Lewis closer and closer to his release.

“Look at me,” his voice is sharp, and it makes you immediately fix your eyes on his. There is an immense sense of wanting to please him, or rather make him proud within you, and he rewards you with a burning kiss that leaves you panting and wanting more as he spills himself into you. As he pulls away to moan out your name, his thumb dragging down your bottom lip. You gently bite down on his thumb while you manage to get out a satisfied moan, eyes closing ever so slightly as you feel him spill into you, and he keeps pulling you even closer to himself when he lets his body fall next to yours.

You have no idea how he manages to still stay inside you, but you can feel his lips pressing gentle kisses across your hairline, and brushing away the sweaty strands. “You feel better now, lovey?” Smiling at the tiredness dripping from his voice, you hum airily, a satisfied smile on your face while you move your neck to look at him.  “Good,” his whisper brushes your lips as he nudges the tip of your nose with his, earning a giggle from you while he wipes away the dry tears on your cheeks.

“Do you have to leave?” There is a whiny undertone to your question, and it makes him give you a gentle smile.

“Not for a while,” he assures you, then he presses his lips softly on yours in a small kiss, “I promise.”

He grabs your hand to weave his fingers through yours, pressing gentle kisses to your knuckles as he keeps silent for a moment – because he knows at that moment, just because you asked, he’ll cancel every single plan he’s made, just to spend more time with you so that he can make you smile like that. “Until you get sick of me, that is.” Your tired laughter fills his ears until it is interrupted by a yawn. He carefully moves you so that he gently takes himself out of you, and rolls you sideways so he can wrap his arms around as he pulls you close to cuddle. “Go to sleep, lovey, we’ll talk in the morning,” he mumbles as he presses soft kisses to your bare shoulder. You close your eyes with a smile on your face, burying yourself into his chest as much as you can, and hear him mumble, “My lovey,” before promptly falling asleep.

You pretend you didn’t hear him in the morning because the arrangement the two of you made was about keeping things causal.

But you respond by squeezing his hand three times in return anyway.

And he responds.

[rockingreads]

Michael Streissguth: Outlaw: Waylon, Willie, Kris, and the Renegades of Nashville (2013)

Their records may not sound all that rough or dangerous to heavy metal fans like me, accustomed to much scarier musical horrors, but Waylon, Willie, Kris, and other 'Nashville Renegades' sure freaked out the respectable, conservative country establishment of the 1970s.

Inspired by the late '60s counter-culture and discouraged with the increasingly safe and slick "countrypolitan" sound taking over Nashville, the 'Outlaws' fought back against Music City's incestuous song-publishing consortiums and restrictive studio and radio politics.

Specifically, they roughed up their songs with grittier sub-genres like bluegrass, honky tonk, folk rock, country and western, Americana, and even rockabilly, topped them with authority-challenging lyrics, and then they got scruffy: swapping polyester suits for denim, and literally letting their hair down.

The irony, of course, is that the Outlaws were simply asking the same question that has both plagued and energized country music since time immemorial and unto the present day: what actually qualifies as "real country" and why.

The answer is out there ...

Author Michael Streissguth takes a comprehensive look at the Outlaw movement, covering other contributors like Merle Haggard, David Allan Coe, Rodney Crowell, Emmylou Harris, Tompall Glaser, Kinky Friedman, Jessi Colter, Jerry Jeff Walker, Cowboy Jack Clement, and, last but not least, Johnny Cash.

In fact, I feel kind of bad for not including the 'Man in Black' among my featured records, since he did so much to draw public attention to real-live outlaws, via his culturally-defining live albums recorded at Folsom Prison and San Quentin.

But have no fear because Streissguth justly gives Cash a leading role in this entertaining glimpse into perhaps the only country music style that most non-country music fans usually care about, let alone buy a book to read about.

You may want to do just that.

Featured Records:

Various Artists: Wanted! The Outlaws (1976)

Willie Nelson: Shotgun Willie (1973)

Kris Kristofferson: The Silver Tongued Devil and I (1971)

Buy from: Amazon

[senseandaccountability]

Sorry for a question out of nowhere but! Who are your favourite writers? What genre do you read the most? Do you have a favourite book of all time? I’m interested in my favourite fic writer’s faves! :)

Yay, more literature questions! I answered a related ask some months ago, but I am a librarian by trade after all, so I love to talk about these things and will try to rotate my faves a bit. Right now, for example, I’m reading a folkloristic book about the forest in Swedish mythology and culture, L’autre fille by Annie Ernaux and A Ghost in the Throat by Doireann Ní Ghríofa.  I try to read from various genres all the time because it keeps the analytical skill going. And because the whole finding your genre is a trap when it comes to fiction, lol. The brain is not meant to be that narrow-minded in its scope, it wants to stretch. I just finished a very moving children's book about grief and friendship, for example, that absolutely made me cry because of how factually and devastatingly it painted the immense confusion after someone you love dies. And the gorgeous thing is that since this is aimed at kids, you can show grief as a huge owl that moves in. Just like that. It's blue and it doesn't say anything, but it doesn't want to harm you, either. It watches as you make coffee and forget that you only need to make coffee for one now. You can scream at the owl that it should go away, but it doesn't. It sits there, huge and blue, in your house. The nerve! You will have to find a way to co-exist with it. In time, it may shrink and you may think it disappears but it just takes on another shape and starts wearing your loved one's clothes and help you clean your house and one day, when the sun shines again, you open your door and find another person there, who asks if you maybe want to hang out for a while. And the owl nods.

One of my absolute favourite genres is any kind of collective novel, which is often a combination of two things I adore: proletarian literature and modernist fiction. Novels or series of novels telling the tale of a city or a war or the fates of a huge family through the ages, mmmm. I also enjoy narrative history - Peter Englund (see image above) is a very literary historian, writes beautifully about little slices of life during wartimes which is right up my alley. Other than that, I read a lot of literary fiction (whatever that is), poetry and a very specific genre of gothic/dark academia that’s best represented by the early novels of Carol Goodman, I guess. There are a lot of books like that but so very few I truly like. Crime works best for me when I listen to it and then I typically pick something easy-to-digest read by actors I enjoy listening to (unfortunately I’m picky and elitist when it comes to narration) but there is one Swedish crime author whose books I devour the moment they are released and that’s Christoffer Carlsson. Introspective broody angst about tiny rural places in Sweden during the 1980-90s, anyone? Yeah, it might not translate super well, I don't know. I love him. I also enjoy Tana French though I haven't read that many of her latest. I don't want spies or cool agents or high stakes or serial killers or international crime syndicates, I just want gritty bleak accidental violence or authors who use the crime format to tell a story about something else. One novel that I always kept putting on top of my favourites list back when I did those is Possession: A Romance by A.S Byatt. I read that one while studying literature at Uni so it meshed well with everything for me and for that reason I’m not sure I’d love the book as much now. I’ve never read anything else by Byatt that has moved me. Around that time I also read What a Carve Up! by Jonathan Coe and adored it, but same disclaimer for that. As a teen, I would have put Wuthering Heights there, for sure and I mean, a gothic novel about class and prejudice dressed as a tragic love story with ghosts, what's not to love?

And finally, two books that made me look at things differently after reading them. Giovanni's room hurts in my soul still, and I think I must have read everything I could find by Jean Rhys after she tore Mr Rochester a new one in Wide Sargasso Sea.

[fangbangerghoul]

Hello, my lovely mutuals and fanfic readers! I am happy to be here again to share some of one of my current fics for Snippet Sunday!

Tagging: @eridanidreams, @silurisanguine, @atonalginger, @staticpallour, @5oh5, @booburry, @bearlytolerant, @lisa-and-shadow, @a-cosmic-elf, and @therealgchu (I'll leave some off, so the others have people to tag! As usual there is no requirement to participate!)

This is going to be a snippet from Chapter 9 of Fleeting Pleasures. I know my writing has been taking a bit longer than it did in the beginning but with my classes and winter taking a toll, it's been difficult to stick to a good writing routine.

Feel free to check out my tag #The Coemancer Crew to check out some other lovely Starfield fics and art while you wait for the update! If you are interested in joining a Starfield community I do host a Sam Coe Discord Server. Everyone under my The Coemancer Crew tag is a community member!

Chapter 9: bad decisions snippet

Ghoul exited through the doors and away from the noise to see the mess from the night before still lingering about. There was dried blood all over the place, glass bottles, and out of the corner of her eye she saw a pack of cigarettes left on one of the small crates. She swiped it before anyone else came walking by and immediately used the lighter that was with the pack to light one. Ghoul felt a small rush of relief when the smoke entered her lungs and the nicotine bled into her system. As she blew out the smoke, she saw Jessamine kick a bottle on her way out of doors from The Last Nova. She huffed something and that was when she noticed Ghoul standing there smoking the cigarette. Her dusty pink hair and yellow eyes akin to Ghoul’s always caught her attention in the bar but they never spoke much. Jessamine strode over with confidence and held out her hand, her two fingers stretched out waiting. Ghoul looked her over with a quick glance and then smirked, handing her the cigarette without protest.  “I heard Delgado is finally off your back. You must have really pissed him off.” Jessamine sounded amused at the thought and her accent sounded straight out of a Celtic fairy tale she was forced to read before. Jessamine puffed on her cigarette watching her with keen eyes. Ghoul was unsure what the approach this woman was trying to take with her, but she thought she could play along, as a distraction.  “From what I have seen, that isn’t too hard to do. He can be a real dictator sometimes.” Ghoul said with a smile they both started to walk forward as they spoke, their step-in rhythm.  “You gotta be with all the people who join, considered.” She shrugged and the slight draw on some of the vowels she pronounced were fun to hear her say. They had no destination set but aimlessly walking around The Key. It was a change of pace of what Ghoul usually did and it helped keep her mind off of her empty stomach.   “All hail the king, hmm?” Ghoul rolled her eyes at the thought. Though she knew at this point it wasn’t like she was in a position to say much, not after what she just did for Delgado.  “I wouldn’t go that far.” Jessamine laughed and stopped them in the center of the front end of The Key. The docked spaceships were on the other side of the door ahead and it seemed they were going to come full circle if they continued anymore. “When is the next time you are going on a run? Care to hire someone?”  Ghoul knew she shouldn’t be too surprised. She had heard Jessamine’s pitch a few times while drinking in the bar, but she never thought about it herself. Jessamine was itching to get off The Key which was the exact opposite of Ghoul right now. Ghoul thought perhaps maybe she should be itching to get off this damn space station. She had been locked in here for months, now she was starving again, and for that time was supposedly undercover for a government ran authority she didn’t give a shit about until she blew her own cover. Ghoul took in a deep breath and sighed before answering the eager face standing before her.  “I have a ship and that’s it.” Ghoul said with warning and her arms crossed. Her body was stiff, and she leaned back a bit with one foot pointing at Jessamine and the other out to the ships. “I didn’t ask for the ship, but Delgado relinquished it to me anyway. I don’t have any credits, but I guarantee we'll have some soon.”   Jessamine now was the one sizing her up. Ghoul could see the hesitance in her body language, and she didn’t blame her. Ghoul probably wouldn't take up her own offer.

[mariacallous]

The Council of Europe’s Committee for the Prevention of Torture and Inhuman or Degrading Treatment or Punishment, CPT, in its new report about Korydallos Psychiatric Hospital for prisoners in Greece, found that patients-prisoners are hospitalized under dire conditions.

After an ad-hoc visit to the hospital from 8 to 11 November 2022, the CPT found that the hospital remains a prison in design and functioning. Despite the government’s promise to transfer the hospital’s responsibility to the Ministry of Health, it remains under the Ministry for Citizens Protection.

Patients are held in overcrowded and dilapidated rooms and their treatment is based almost exclusively on pharmacotherapy. Prison officers run the hospital without relevant background or training on mental health issues. Some important issues that CPT underlined are the lack of a resident psychiatrist, the presence of only one nurse for 170 patients, and the way the patients’ deaths are investigated.

“Finally, what is really happening today in psychiatric departments in the public and private sectors is what we learn from the competent committee of the CPT. Despite the committee’s long-standing recommendations, the problems presented and the violation of the rights of the mentally ill continue to exist and even worsen, due to the lack of staff,” Yannis Alexakis, a lawyer and former member of the special monitoring committee for the protection of rights of people with mental disorders, told BIRN.

The CPT also visited the recently established transgender unit in Korydallos Women’s Remand Prison. The CPT noted good living conditions but also urged Greece to develop a clear policy framework for transgender persons in prison.

The CPT visited the Special Wing C in Korydallos Men’s Prison. Although the authorities had responded promptly to CPT’s previous recommendations, the cells were still filthy, dilapidated and severely overcrowded; each prisoner had less than 2 metres square of living space.

“More generally, the CPT reiterates the importance of taking vigorous action to tackle overcrowding in many of the prison establishments. The CPT also highlights once again the necessity to develop a revised Strategic Plan with clear timelines and financial costings,” it said in a press release.

Greek authorities informed the CPT of measures taken to improve prison living conditions while noting the constraints under which the prison administration is acting.

BIRN asked the secretary general of the anti-criminal policy of the Greek Ministry for Citizens Protection for a comment on the report but did not receive an answer by the time of publication.

[pratiksha-more]

How to Apply for an Australian Student Visa: A Step-by-Step Guide

Australia is a top destination for international students due to its high-quality education system, diverse culture, and excellent career opportunities. If you’re planning to study in Australia, obtaining a Student visa Australia is essential. This guide outlines the step-by-step process to apply for a student visa.

Step 1: Choose a Course and Institution

Before applying for a Student visa Australia, you must first secure admission to an Australian educational institution. Ensure that the institution is registered under the Commonwealth Register of Institutions and Courses for Overseas Students (CRICOS).

Step 2: Receive a Confirmation of Enrollment (CoE)

Once you’ve been accepted into a course, the institution will provide you with a Confirmation of Enrollment (CoE). This document is crucial as it serves as proof of your admission and is required for your visa application.

Step 3: Check Visa Eligibility and Requirements

To qualify for a student visa, you must meet the following criteria:

Enrollment in a CRICOS-registered course

Proof of sufficient funds to cover tuition fees, living expenses, and return travel

English language proficiency (IELTS, TOEFL, PTE, etc.)

Overseas Student Health Cover (OSHC)

Genuine Temporary Entrant (GTE) requirement to show that you intend to study in Australia temporarily

Step 4: Gather Required Documents

Prepare the necessary documents for your visa application, including:

Passport

CoE from your institution

Proof of financial capacity

English language test results

OSHC health insurance policy

Statement of Purpose (SOP) explaining your study intentions

Step 5: Apply for the Student Visa (Subclass 500)

You can apply for the Student visa Australia (Subclass 500) online through the Department of Home Affairs website. Follow these steps:

Create an ImmiAccount on the Australian immigration website.

Fill out the visa application form.

Upload the required documents.

Pay the visa application fee.

Submit the application.

Step 6: Undergo Health and Character Checks

You may be required to undergo a medical examination with an approved doctor and provide police clearance certificates to meet the character requirements.

Step 7: Attend a Visa Interview (If Required)

In some cases, the Australian authorities may request an interview to assess your intentions, financial capability, and study plans. Be prepared to answer questions about your course, institution, and future plans.

Step 8: Wait for Visa Decision

Visa processing times vary depending on factors such as application completeness and background checks. Typically, it takes a few weeks to a few months for a decision to be made.

Step 9: Receive Your Visa and Prepare for Travel

Once your Student visa Australia is granted, you will receive a visa grant letter with details on your visa conditions and duration. You can now make travel arrangements to begin your studies in Australia.

Final Thoughts

Applying for a Student visa Australia is a crucial step toward your educational journey. By following these steps and ensuring all requirements are met, you can increase your chances of a successful visa application.

For more details, visit MSM Unify and start your study abroad journey today!

[rhianna]

PREFACE.

This collection is intended to present, in a popular form, an account of many of the important naval battles of all times, as well as of some combats of squadrons and single ships, which are interesting, from the nautical skill and bravery shown in them.

In most instances an endeavor has been made to give, in a concise manner, the causes which led to these encounters, as well as the results obtained.

As this book is not intended for professional men, technicalities have been, as far as possible, avoided. But it is often necessary to use the language and phraseology of those who fought these battles.

In all there has been a desire to give an unbiased account of each battle; and, especially, to make no statement for which authority cannot be found.

A study of naval history is of value, even in the most inland regions, by increasing a practical knowledge of geography, and by creating an interest in the great problems of government, instead of concentrating it upon local affairs. At the time that this volume was first[I-VI] issued, some people wondered why such a publication was necessary. The answer was that it was to inform the people of the great centre and West of the necessity of a navy, by showing them what navies had done and what influence they exercised in the world’s history.

That they are fully aware of this now is also not doubtful, and the probability is that those representatives of the people who oppose a sufficient navy for our country will be frowned down by their own constituents. Commonsense shows that, with our immense seacoast, both on the Atlantic and the Pacific, the navy, in the future, is to be the preponderant branch of our military force.

About this eBook 

AuthorShippen, EdwardTitleNaval battles of the world : Great and decisive contests on the seaOriginal PublicationPhiladelphia: P. W. Ziegler Co., 1905.CreditsBrian Coe, Harry Lamé and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net(This book was produced from images made available by the HathiTrust Digital Library with additional images from the Internet Archive.)LanguageEnglishCategoryTextEBook-No.73068Release DateFeb 28, 2024Copyright StatusPublic domain in the USA.

[aquoteamusetheword]

THE INDICATOR OF PRAYER

One of my favorite stories on prayer, from one of my favorite authors...enjoy.

“It is not your business to succeed but to do right: when you have done so, the rest lies with God.” ~ C. S. Lewis

One of my favorite adventures in prayer involves Doug Coe, who has a ministry in Washington, D.C. that mostly involves people in politics and statecraft.

Doug became acquainted with Bob, an insurance salesman who was completely unconnected with any government circles. Bob became a Christian and began to meet with Doug to learn about his new faith. One day, Bob came in all excited about a statement in the Bible where Jesus says, “Ask whatever you will in my name, and you shall receive it.” “Is that really true?” Bob demanded. Doug explained, “Well, it’s not a blank check. You have to take it in context of the teachings of the whole Scripture on prayer. But yes—it really is true. Jesus really does answer prayer.” “Great!” Bob said. “Then I gotta start praying for something. I think I’ll pray for Africa.” “That’s kind of a broad target. Why don’t you narrow it down to one country?” Doug advised. “All right. I’ll pray for Kenya.” “Do you know anyone in Kenya?” Doug asked. “No.” “Ever been to Kenya?” “No.” Bob just wanted to pray for Kenya.

So, Doug made an unusual arrangement. He challenged Bob to pray every day for six months for Kenya. If Bob would do that and nothing extraordinary happened, Doug would pay him five hundred dollars. But if something remarkable did happen, Bob would pay Doug five hundred dollars. Bob began to pray, and for a long while nothing happened. Then one night he was at a dinner in Washington. The people around the table explained what they did for a living. One woman said she helped run an orphanage in Kenya—the largest of its kind. “You’re obviously very interested in my country,” the woman said to Bob, overwhelmed by his sudden barrage of questions. “You’ve been to Kenya before?” “No.” “You know someone in Kenya?” “No.” “Then how do you happen to be so curious?” “Well, someone is kind of paying me five hundred dollars to pray. . ..” She asked Bob if he would like to come visit Kenya and tour the orphanage. Bob was so eager to go, he would have left that very night if he could.

When Bob arrived in Kenya, he was appalled by the poverty and the lack of basic health care. Upon returning to Washington, he couldn’t get this place out of his mind. He began to write to large pharmaceutical companies, describing to them the vast need he had seen. He reminded them that every year they would throw away large amounts of medical supplies that went unsold. “Why not send them to this place in Kenya?” he asked. This orphanage received more than a million dollars’ worth of medical supplies.

The woman called Bob up and said, “Bob, this is amazing! We’ve had the most phenomenal gifts because of the letters you wrote. We would like to fly you back over and have a big party. Will you come?” So, Bob flew back to Kenya. While he was there, the president of Kenya came to the celebration, because it was the largest orphanage in the country, and offered to take Bob on a tour of Nairobi, the capital city. In the course of the tour, they saw a prison. Bob asked about a group of prisoners there. “They’re political prisoners,” he was told. “That’s a bad idea,” Bob said brightly. “You should let them out.” Bob finished the tour and flew back home.

Sometime later, Bob received a phone call from the State Department of the United States government: “Is this Bob?” “Yes.” “Were you recently in Kenya?” “Yes.” “Did you make any statements to the president about political prisoners?” “Yes.” “What did you say?” “I told him he should let them out.” And he did.

How about you?

What are you praying for? Give it six months. I won’t promise you five hundred dollars, but I will give you a refund on the cost of this book. To the contrary, if something extraordinary does happen, you have to write and tell me about it.

‘Water-Walking’ ~ Joh Ortberg

‘And I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Father may be glorified in the Son. You may ask me for anything in my name, and I will do it.’ ~John 14: 13-14

[galadriel1010]

Fic Meme

Rules: tag the person who tagged you, always post the rules, answer the questions, and add the date!  

Tagged by the wonderful @taupefox59​

Rules: Post the fic, a brief summary/excerpt, and your feelings about the fic!

What are your five most popular works? (starting with the most kudos)

Surprise Me - Shadowhunters - Oneshot Maryse might be the last person Magnus wants to see after he's just told her son he loves him, but in the end she might turn out to be exactly who he needed to see. 

A Feet Finding Mission - Class/Torchwood - WIP Murders, disappearances and the occasional invasion have finally caught the attention of the authorities. Torchwood and the Bunghole Defence Squad unite to protect Coal Hill, but when Charlie is separated from them it's him who needs protecting, and in 1963 Torchwood isn't a protector for a lost alien. CoE didn't happen. 

Trials of a Timelord - Torchwood - Completed long fic When a young Timelord crosses paths with Torchwood, his life is foreverd. He is forced to adapt over and over again to a world he never thought he'd know. 

Trapped Sometimes the Bunghole Defence Squad find things that go bump in the night. This time the things found Matteusz, and he's at their mercy.  Tags: Tentacle Monster, Oviposition, Tentacles, Tentacle Rape, Underage, Rape/Non-con, Inflation, Alien Abduction, Impregnation, Eggpreg

Not As Planned - Torchwood - Short story collection. A love story told in twenty five prompts. Charts the progression of Jack and Ianto's relationship from the post-Cyberwoman days to the completion of their family unit. Contains: Schmoop, family, Torchwood getting in the way, sex, love, heteronormative concepts. Warning: Brush teeth after reading! Otherwise the sweetness levels will rot your teeth. 

What are your five least popular works? (starting with the least kudos)

To The End of the World - Torchwood - Oneshot Jack and Ianto watch the end of the world. 

Here and Now - Torchwood - Oneshot The past is just the road we took to the present. Jack, more than anyone, needs somebody who can understand that. 

The Clash Of Worlds - Torchwood - Longfic series Doctor Who universe mashup with Lord of the Rings.

Interview with Ianto Harkness-Jones, 14th October 2029 - Torchwood - Oneshot Random aside from a longer fic.

Afraid To Hold Ianto still has reservations and fears about his and Jack's relationship, which come between them even when it matters the most

Are you surprised? Why?

Optional: If you want to calculate this, what are your works’ average number of notes?

Today’s date, so you can see how your results might change if you do this again in a year.

14/10/2017

Tag six people to do this next!

[costofeverythingaskblog]

Yoooo I love your guys fic so much! I binge read it recently and it's so so so so good!

Hehe thank you!! We’re having so much fun making it! I do have to stop myself from posting chapters early though 😔 it’s never Wednesday soon enough…

[yourstrqly]

✰ LOSE YOURSELF, C. LECLERC + P. GASLY

[ preview ] the two pretty best friends are excellent in working together as a team for the shared cause: seeing you sing from their tongues and fingers

[ tw ] smut — threesome (mmf), fem receiving oral, nipple play, slight male on male action, soft dom!pierre, switch!charles

. minors do not read .

"relax bunny", the monegasque man whispers in your ear as he strokes the slightly sweaty skin of your cheek and grins at his friend, who's head is between your tights. "we're going to make you feel good."

pierre hums in agreement, already occupied with kissing the soft flesh of your inner tights, resulting in heat crashing throughout your body. you try to silence your moans, biting hard on your kiss swollen bottom lips while leaning against charles' bare chest.

he takes notice of your poor attempt to be silent, not to break in front of them and he hates it — charles hates when you do this, tuning down your angelic sounds. so he does what normally only pierre does; he slithers his right hand from your hip up to your throat, adding slight pressure to it and causing you to clench your legs around the french man.

"bunny, you dont you dare to shy away", the ferrari driver says, "be a good girl and give me a kiss."

you turn your head a bit, following his order. his kisses are different to pierre's — he kisses you like you're a delicate flower, soft and innocent, and pierre's are fire, wild and consuming, hungry. they're balancing each other seemingly perfect, driving you absolute mad.

pierre looks up, past you and into his best friend's eyes while kissing a trail up your right leg towards your growing slick pussy. the other man growls at that, shifting you slightly and making you feel his length. you quiver at the feeling of his dick pressing against your lower back, but you lose focus when pierre's hot breath contacts your needy cunt.

"Oh—", you gasp, head falling on charles' shoulder. he gently touches your jawline, tilting your head to the side to expose your neck, which is covered in love bits. he licks the bruised skin, knowing it bought you adding pain and pleasure.

"charlie, give me a kiss", you plea sweetly, making the french between you legs groan.

the monegasque fulfils your wish, molds his lip to yours, swallowing every whimper and moan. his free hand lays on your stomach, before moving it to your breast, kneading the flesh and rolling your nipple between his rough fingertips.

all together is too much for you; the head given by pierre and the message from charles — they're both dead send on making you cum.

pierre flattens his tongue over your clit, two fingers curling and stroking your inside. you legs shake and your lower muscles clamp around his fingers. once again he searches the other man's eyes. "she's enjoying herself, don't you think so, char?"

"indeed, she is", charles answers, and twists your nipple, coeing a high pitched whine from you. "fuck, listen to her singing."

gasping, you stutter "can I come?". tears spill from the corner of your eyes.

charles watches pierre's reaction, waiting for an answer; between the two pierre has always the final decision in his hand. the french adds a third finger, sucking on your clit, as he gazes at his friend.

"cum for us bunny", the monegasque groans, holding you tightly against his chest. you lose yourself within the lust; your toes curl, and you heave as the knot unties. you're dizzy as your body calms down, and a lazy smile is spread across your lips which mirrors pierre's.

charles grabs his friends hand and brings it to his lips, licking your slick off pierre's fingers with a deep moan.

"sweeter than anything i've ever tastet."

author's note: first time i've ever written female recieving oral and threesome but I enjoyed it!

[coeluvr]

Wait wait wait. Outra autora de uma das séries IFs mais interessantes (para mim) do momento que também vive em Portugal? LOVE IT 😂

Eu ADORO a premissa desta if, estou tão entusiasmada por tentar todas as routes AAAHHHHHHHH. Mas anyway, era só isto 😭

Por isso, bom trabalho!!! Sending hugs ❤️❤️❤️

Omg obrigada, Rita. 😭💗 É sempre bom falar com pessoas daqui na net!

Fico feliz por saber que estás a gostar 🫶 espero que consiga continuar a escrever algo que pessoas gostem.

Hugssss 💗💗

[amourology]

AFTERGLOW — levi ackerman

ʚ ɞ pairings: levi ackerman x strong!reader (you’re able to lift levi, just go with it—strong soldier over here, people).

ʚ ɞ synopsis: aftercare with tired, clingy and adorably needy sub!levi.

ʚ ɞ author’s note: this is purely self-indulgent. i just want to cradle his face in the palms of my hands and tell him everything’s alright :( just wanna take care of him and give him a kiss on the nose :(

ʚ ɞ warnings: light descriptions of sex, i use the word cock maybe once—it’s basically non-sugarcoated fluff, implied dom!reader, implied sub!levi, reader dotes heavily on levi bc he deserves it. oh, and—let’s pretend they have sinks & running water in paradis for a sec, okay?

ʚ ɞ word count: 2.8k. 

Levi Ackerman has always been pretty, always been so beautiful. With his pretty, plump and oh-so-kissable lips, and his pretty, silky-smooth dark hair, and his pretty, button-like nose—nevermind forgetting his pretty, blue-grey eyes carrying the winter season within them.

Yes—he’s always been utterly gorgeous. Still, you’d make quite a strong case arguing that him during the day wasn’t even close to him at his most beautiful. For he was prettiest whenever he laid in front of you like this.

On your shared duvet, with his head thrown back and his ink-black eyelashes fluttering while his chest heaved up, down, and up again. With his fingers twitching at his side, and with a few of his bangs sticking to his sweat-decorated forehead. With his legs opened, and his abdomen sticky with the mess he made of himself. And with one of his arms outstretched, hands grabbing around nothing as he beckons you to come closer.

“You did so good, Levi,” you coe at him. Abiding by his request, you adjust your position on the bed and crawl up towards him. When at his face, you delicately brush your fingers across his forehead—pushing aside the fallen strands of hair. “So good for me. Always so good.”

Your stomach flutters upon seeing him lean into your touch, relishing the words of praise as he always does. As if he has to make due with what you were willing to give him today, never knowing when he’ll earn them again. As if you won’t shower him in it whenever he so wishes.

“Thank you,” he croaks out. His head rests in-between the soft, whiite pillow beneath him and the even softer skin of your hand. “Felt really good.”

“Yeah?”

He nods against your hand, placing one of his own over your wrist to keep it in place. “Yeah,” he whispers. His voice gives out soon after; still a bit shrill after granting you all those pretty sounds.

“Hey.” You hum softly, bringing your face close to his. You nudge his nose with yours, withholding a smile. Levi scrunches his nose up after you place a kiss on it—a sight so adorable it made you wonder how people could ever fear him. “Want me to clean you up first? Or should I get something for you to drink?”

A tired sigh passes his lips; an indication he’ll sleep twice as well as he normally would in a night. “Clean,” he decides, because of course he does.

The predictable answer makes you chuckle. “Alright,” you say. You pretend not to notice the offended frown on his forehead as soon as you take your hand back. “I’ll be quick.”

You really are intending to hurry, knowing he doesn’t like to be alone for too long after such acts. And so, you rise from the bed—frowning when you don’t make it quite as far as you’d hoped. You turn back around, looking down at Levi who now holds a grip on your wrist. He pulls you back towards him.

“You okay?”

He looks up at you, cheeks still slightly damp from the tears he’d shed for you today; tears he allowed to flow after you kept bringing him to that edge over and over again, pushing him over it so many times until it started to hurt—until he couldn’t decide if he wanted you to stop or give him more, more and more. As always, he’d chosen for more. Only stopping when you’d milked him dry.

“Kiss,” he demands. “Gimme a kiss first.”

Your eyes soften. “Oh,” you breathe. No, you truly didn’t get why his subordinates were so scared of him. You smile, and start leaning down. “Come here, then.”

Levi hums contentedly when your lips finally engulf his. One of his hands reaches for the back of your head, keeping you in place for just a little bit longer—for just a second more of this feeling.

You chuckle against his lips, and one of your hands finds his cheek. “I’ll be back soon, Levi.” You tell him, caressing his cheekbone with your thumb.

His love-filled eyes wander around your face; first at your brows, then at the tip of your nose, then your lips, even your cheeks, until they finally find home within your eyes. “You promise?” He asks, voice no louder than a mumble.

You cup his jaw. “I promise,” you say, kissing his forehead.

He closes his eyes while you shower him with affection, enjoying it while it lasts, and sighing when you pull back. Knowing you have to leave eventually, Levi settles back down on the duvet. His eyes fall shut rather quickly, and for a short second it looks like he’s fallen asleep—though, you knew he was wide awake. He always waits for you to hold him before drifting off.

However—he seems quite tired, which means you’ll have to hurry. Quickly, you walk into his bathroom. You gather a washcloth and rinse it underneath some lukewarm water, walking back out and into the bedroom shortly after.

The bed shifts beside Levi, and he hazily opens one of his eyes to look. Once fully confirming it’s you, he closes it again. A soft groan escapes him, relishing in the way you so, so carefully and with such heavy affection, start cleaning him up.

Levi sighs quietly while you go to work, wiping all residue of his release away from his stomach, his thighs—he squirms a bit as you get closer to his cock, which makes you smile. He’s always so sensitive, so keen to your touch. Surely, it’s the most endearing thing you’ve ever seen.

Once you’re sure you’ve cleaned it all, you pull back. “There,” you mumble. One of your fingers starts delicately trailing upwards alongside his thigh.

Levi shakes his head. “M still dirty,” he says; you briefly wonder how much those words pained him to say.

You hum in acknowledgement, still focused on trailing your hand up his body. It goes along his stomach, making out the shape of his abs. He shivers underneath your touch.

“You want me to run you a bath?” You offer.

His eyes are fully open when your finger makes it up to his face, his line of sight fully locks on you while you start tracing the features on him.

“Please,” he says. His breath hitches in his throat as you glide your thumb over his bottom lip. “Would you?”

“You’re not too tired?” You ask, your index finger now finding its way towards the bridge of his nose. “‘Cause I’d hate to run a bath, only to drain it again right after.”

Levi frowns. “That was one time,” he grumbles. His nose scrunches up again after you lightly tap the tip. “”S hardly fair to hold it against me.”

“One time too many,” you muse. A smile settles on your face upon seeing his puffed out bottom lip, his eyebrow still pulled down into that frown and a slightly annoyed look in his eye. “I’m joking, love. I’ll go and get it ready for you.”

Again, he stops you from leaving. “Stop forgetting my kiss,” he complains. His fingers reach for yours and he pulls you towards him.

“I’d argue I’ve been kissing you all over tonight,” you mumble against his lips. You add another peck to them.

“‘S not enough,” he answers. This time, he allows the kiss to linger for a bit longer. When he pulls back, he looks you in the eye. “It’s never enough.”

“Well, aren’t you a little greedy thing, hm?” You hum, a slight smirk taking over your lips as you notice the tips of his ears and the apples of his cheek change in colour. “Suppose it’s a good thing I can never get enough of kissing you, then.”

“Yes,” he whispers, his peppermint-scented breath hitting your face. “I suppose it is.”

Levi sighs and lets you kiss his forehead again. The next time you stand up to run his bath, you’re met with less of a protest.

You gather the stuff you know he likes; making sure the water is absolutely scalding hot and smells of lavender and honey. When you deem it good enough, you go to get him. The sight you’re met with is enough to tilt your head to the side in amusement.

“Levi.”

He hums. “Just a minute.”

You’ve heard that one before.

The sheets crinkle underneath Levi’s figure, courtesy of you shifting him around on top of them. Once your arms are securely wrapped beneath him, you take a deep breath and lift him off the bed.

Never before were you so grateful for the ruthless training he puts you and the others through on the daily—if it allows you to carry him around in your arms like that, you’re quite confident you’d more than willingly participate in them. Perhaps even twice a day, if this would be your reward.

You stop walking once you make it to the tub. “Careful,” you say. “I’m gonna put you in, okay? It’s gonna be quite warm.”

He doesn’t move in your grasp. A mere “Okay.” Is all you get back.

Very carefully, afraid you might hurt him if you went too fast, you place him down into the newly-filled bathtub. Levi lets out a soft moan at the warmth surrounding him, allowing his arms to rest alongside the edges of the tub.

“Thank you,” he says quietly.

The sudden vulnerability in his voice catches you off-guard, but you’re thankful for it nonetheless—forever grateful he trusts you enough to show it to you.

“Of course,” you answer. “Tell me if you need anything, okay?”

Once again you turn around to leave, now planning on quickly changing the stained sheets in the other room. Knowing Levi, he doesn’t like sleeping on them after the both of you made such a mess on them.

“You.” He calls out quickly, this time succeeding in grabbing your hand instead of your wrist. He looks down at them, and intertwins his fingers with yours. “You, too.”

His voice sounds so perfect; such a balanced mix between scratchy, whiny and pleading. You cup his chin, cherishing the way he looks up at you. The liking towards his sound reminds you of the soreness he must feel.

“Here, drink something first.” You say, using one of the glasses next to the sink to gather some water for him.

Levi accepts the glass, fingers curling around it while he quickly brings it to his lips. Before you realise, he gulps it all down—then he hands it back to you.

“It’s fine,” he says. “My voice is fine.”

“Okay,” you said, slightly amused at his eagerness. You nod towards the space behind him. “Scoot over.”

He does as he’s told. You briefly take your eyes off him to place the now-empty glass back on the sink. Soon after, you take your place behind him. The water feels unbelievably hot on your skin and it takes you a few seconds to get used to. Once you do, you nudge Levi’s body backwards.

You adjust him in-between your legs, and he lets you. The biggest sigh of relief passes his lips while he lays his head to rest on your chest, eyes closing as he hides his face in the crook of your neck. A featherlight kiss gets pressed to the side of your throat. Trying to fight off your smile at the gesture seems to be futile.

Your fingers dance along the skin of his arms, the toned muscle and faded scars feeling rough beneath them. Slowly but surely you fall into a pattern, drawing soft circles on his bare skin. Your other hand cups the back of his head, tangling your fingers in his dark locks.

The both of you sit like that for a while. Only when you realise he’s well and truly falling asleep this time—in your hold—do you nudge him awake.

“Levi.”

“Hm?”

“I’m gonna wash your hair, okay? We’ve gotta get out and go to bed.”

Levi nods. It does take him a while, but he’s very well aware that he’ll have to sit up if you want to wash his hair—and so, he eventually succeeds in doing so. After a couple minutes, of course.

“There you go,” you mumble proudly.

As soon as he’s properly seated, you reach for the shampoo next to you. You slather your hands with it, rubbing your palms together to let it emulsify before you nestle your hands in his hair.

He tilts his head backwards, letting out a satisfied groan here-and-there whenever you scratch a particularly nice spot. Your fingers comb through the locks, massaging certain spots a bit longer whenever he lets out a slightly louder sound at the specific placement.

“There.” You say once you’re done.

Your arms wrap around him, one of your arms around his waist while the other crosses along his chest and with your hand resting on his collarbone. You pull him in closer and press a kiss to his shoulder blade, and then one to the back of his neck.

“Is it okay if you wash yourself off?” You ask, letting your chin rest on his shoulder. “I’ve got to change the sheets.”

Levi hums in agreement. Another kiss gets pressed to his cheek, and you immediately miss his warmth as soon as you stand up and hoist yourself out of the bathtub. You reach for a towel, tightly wrapping it around your body.

Just as you were to leave—you stop, and turn towards him. Crouching down, you cup his chin upwards to make him look at you. Then, you kiss him on the lips.

Levi huffs once you pull back. “You learn.”

“Seems like I do,” you answer, smiling. “I’ll get started on the bed, okay?”

He nods at you, allowing you to leave only after stealing another quick peck. You laugh at him, the laugh diminishing into a smile as you walk back into the adjoined bedroom.

After you’re dressed, you begin the task at hand. All current sheets are taken off the bed, discarded into the hamper in the corner. The linen cabinet is hoisted open, and the new, freshly-washed duvet covers the bed in a mere few minutes.

As soon as you’re finished, you feel a pair of arms wrapping around your waist from behind. Levi holds you against him for a while, then he kisses your shoulder.

“Thank you,” he whispers. “Thank you so much.”

Carefully, as not to scare him with sudden movements, you turn around in his hold. “There’s nothing you need to thank me for, Levi.” You tell him, both hands cupping his cheeks—they squish slightly against your palms as you hold his face. “If there’s anyone out there deserving of such treatment, it’s you.”

He exhales shakily, never looking away from your eyes. The love and admiration within them makes him feel more than fulfilled. “I’m—I’m not sure I believe that…” He trails off, clearing his throat. “But, still, thank you.”

You smile, the bridge of your nose softly bumping against his as you bring both your faces closer together. “You wanna go to sleep?”

“Please,” he says.

Before you, those were words he never thought he’d use to answer that question.

Levi didn’t like sleeping—couldn’t like sleeping, considering his insomnia never gave him the chance to enjoy it.

But on such nights as tonight, where you tire him out so good, where you crawl into bed with him and hold his head against your chest, where you wrap your arms around him so tightly as if you wish to protect him from all and everything bad out there—all while fully knowing he doesn’t need it but doing so, anyway.

…Yeah, Levi loves sleeping, then.

You do exactly that now, too, and he eagerly follows your guidance towards the bed. The very much welcomed smell of fresh linen hits him as soon as he lays down underneath the covers. And it’s as if he can’t reach out for you fast enough, arms outstretched and ever searching—until he feels yours wrap around him, one around his waist, the other on the back of his head.

Levi closes his eyes the second his head makes contact with your chest, the second he feels your slow-and-steady heartbeat rising beneath him. His figure curls into yours, and he smiles—and you do, too.

“Good night, Levi,” you whisper into his hair.

A kiss gets pressed to the crown of his head shortly after.

He nudges his nose against the base of your throat. Then, a soft, lingering kiss to your collarbone follows. “Good night,” he exhales.

At that moment, Levi falls asleep quicker than he ever has before.

taglist — join here.

@beautyofthcdark @local-hrs​ @smol-book-nerd​ @instabull​ 

[ramonag-if]

Has hatred against the Ishari people start with the new age Aedes, or did it start when Erlan became King? Also, did Erlan's predecessor do anything noteworthy?

Ps: (it is absolutely criminal that when I look for twine games on itch that COE is not in the top ten at least, please don't get discouraged from that because your story is absolutely amazing🥰🥰!

Good question! 😊 Each age lasts roughly 4000 years, so the hatred is fairly new - think the last 25-30 years or so. It started with Erlan, officially - you can learn more depending on a certain choice in Chapter 2 which will give the player to learn more lore regarding the leaders in an interlude section added in Chapter 3. I'll answer under the cut for possible spoilers 😊

Thank you for being so king and supportive! 💖 I'm not too fussed about where it ranks on itch.io, because I've noticed that some days it appears higher up in rankings/placements than other days - it really depends on the traffic the game gets. As long as there's at least one person who plays the game and enjoys it, I'm more than happy 🌼

The Blood Guard was formed a few years before the war against Ishari broke our, but it ultimately was caused by Erlan. You'll learn that Erlan inherited the throne from his father, who inherited it from a cousin who died without leaving any heirs. Up until this point, Ishari was part of Cyre and was treated more of the religious capital of the kingdom - governed by high ranking nobles who were advised heavily by the priests and priestesses. The hate is triggered after Erlan perceives certain guidance by the religious authority in Ishari as meddling in political affairs and his pride and anger gets the better of him, leading to the hatred and war against Ishari.

[rekarra]

Brain Break #43

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Rating: NSFW

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 1248

Warnings: Fuckgirl!reader, COE!Taehyung, good boy Taehyung

Author’s Note: Okay, but this gif. O.O

My Masterlist

It had been a week. One week. 7 fucking days, and you still couldn't get him out of your goddamn head. You didn't have time for this bullshit. Relationships and repeat "customers" were beneath you. He'd been a one-night stand, someone who didn't matter. He had been disposable. Case closed.

Checking at your reflection in the visor mirror, you adjusted your lipstick slightly before stepping out of your car. Doing your best to shake the thoughts of how his hands had felt on your skin, you stepped out of your vehicle, feeling your long dress fall into place around your legs. Heeling clacking across the pavement, you climbed the stairs that lead into the hotel, smiling politely at the doorman as he held the large glass door open for you.

It wasn't the first time you'd been here since most benefits ended up here as it was one of the better hotels in the area. Given how much you'd spent to be here tonight, you were hoping to network better connections for your charity.

You stopped by the table just inside the doors to the large ballroom, finding your name and the number for the table. You were only mildly impressed with the decor as you made your way around the room. The round tables were set with low centerpieces, not a distraction when trying to talk to the other people you had to be seated with for the night. Deciding to find where you'd be for the night, you started to look for your table before trying to mingle. You rolled your eye at the thought, only a tiny slip of the mask you had to wear while you were at an event like this.

Sure, you might get some people interested in throwing money your way, but you could think of better ways to spend your Saturday evening. Sighing heavily, you found your table, glancing at it as you look for your name card. You'd only just sat down when a charming waiter came to ask for your drink order. Smiling deceptively sweet at him, you answered him, allowing your eyes to roam his face, surprised that the hotel or catering company would allow him to work such a high profile event with the eyebrow and lip piercing. Unable to stop your eye, they followed down to where he was writing your order, raising a bow as you saw the ink on his knuckles. Quickly, you met his eyes as he repeated your drink order, and you couldn't help your smile as he blushed prettily for you.

"I'm Jungkook. If you need anything else, please let me know." He spoke quietly but with assertiveness in his voice.

"Oh, Jungkook. If I can think of anything you can help with, I'll be sure to let you know." You winked at him and could help the chuckle when he gulped.

Still thinking about how much fun that waiter would be as he walked away, you hadn't noticed when you'd someone had joined you at your table, his seat next to yours. Turning, you were about to introduce yourself and froze. It had to be a hallucination because he couldn't be here. Your mind was still playing tricks on you. There was no way that the man you'd been thinking about earlier was here. He hadn't looked your way yet and, if you were careful, he wouldn't notice you standing to leave.

Turning in your seat, you had just started to stand up when you heard his deep, husky voice call your name. Hearing him call you flooded your brain with images of how he'd sounded when he had been deep inside you, how his mouth looked between your leg.

Quickly plastering a smile on your face, you twisted back in his direction, trying to cover how you'd been able to leave. "Taehyung. A pleasure to see you again." You responded politely through gritted teeth.

"Mmm, it is?" Taehyung cocked an eyebrow at you, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Didn't think I'd see you again."

"Oh?" You felt heat rush to your neck. "And why is that?" You tried to regain your composure at being faced with him again. In all your years of doing what you did, it seemed like the luck you'd had at never running into a past conquest reached its end.

"Well," Taehyung leaned in, keeping his voice low. "You left before I woke and didn't leave your number."

"That's kind of the point." Unable to stop the roll of your eyes as you huffed back at him. "Listen," You braced yourself for the speech you'd planned for so long but never had used until now. "The only reason that night was great was that it happened once. We get to be who we want for that one night." Seeing the cute waiter approaching from the corner of your eye, you had to rush your words. "If I had known you ran in the same circle, it wouldn't have happened in the first place."

Taehyung sat back in his chair, his brows furrowed as the waiter sat your drink down. Smiling up at him, you leaned forward, letting Jungkook get a get view of how the dress you'd worn showcased your chest. "Thank you, Jungkook." Chuckling, you watched the pink spread to his ears this time as Jungkook cleared his throat before turning to the man seated next to you.

"And for you, Mr. Kim? Your usual?" The way the waiter spoke to Taehyung with such familiarity, you raised a brow. You picked up the drink the attractive Jungkook had brought you, and immediately you almost spit the sip you'd taken back out as you felt strong fingers grip your thigh. Looking down, you found a hand placed perfectly through the slit on your thigh. Whipping your head up, you stared incredulously at how brazen Taehyung was acting as he talked with Jungkook. This is part of why you didn't do relationships. You couldn't stand the positiveness.

Rolling your eyes, you muttered an "excuse me" before standing swiftly, heading to the restrooms. Contemplating on whether you should stay and suffer through the evening next to Taehyung or just call it for the night, you had made it to the long hallway that led to the bathrooms.

Just as you were about to push the door open, long slender fingers wrapped around your wrist, pulling you away, you hitting softly against the wall opposite the entrance. "What the actual fuck, Taehyung?" You seethed at the man standing tall before you.

"What do I have to do to get you to leave with me tonight?" Taehyung whispered, pressing in and slotting his thigh between your legs.

You couldn't help the gasp you made as his muscular thigh made contact with your core, sensitive from how much thoughts of Taehyung had affected you earlier. Pushing back against his firm chest, he took a step back. "You want to take me home, Tae?" You narrowed your eyes at him as he nodded. "Then kneel."

A dark look flashed across his face, and heat filled his eyes. Slowly, he took another step back, and there, at your feet, Taehyung dropped to his knees. Pushing yourself up from the wall, you closed the space between the two of you, your legs grazing his front as you rub your hand down his cheek, cupping his chin and pulling his chin up sharply, forcing him to look at you. "Good boy."