shark vs the universe
The Bowery Presents
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
noise dept.
$LAYYYTER
hello vonnie
Product Placement
EXPECTATIONS
tannertan36
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NASA
Sweet Seals For You, Always
tumblr dot com
pixel skylines
izzy's playlists!
Jar Jar Binks Fan Club
KIROKAZE
🪼
#extradirty
Love Begins
seen from Palestinian Territories
seen from Germany
seen from Vietnam
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from Italy
seen from Spain
seen from Türkiye
seen from Portugal
seen from Bangladesh
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@chevalier-de-seingalt
About & Rules | Ask
Strictly 18+ for general RP and 21+ for NSFW.
Independent Will Graham & Steve Harrington RP. Heavily influenced by headcanons, based in the NBC Hannibal and Netflix Stranger Things universes, but also shaped by other media. Multi-ship and OC friendly.
Good morning and happy sinday! If you miss me, and wanna interact with more of my bisexual himbos, feel free to follow me over here on my multi-muse blog.
@chevalier-de-seingalt liked for a starter
“Aaaaand I think we’re in the clear!”
The Doctor grinned, hopping up from the ground and pulling the stranger to his feet. He started brushing the dirt from the other man’s clothes, chatting away happily all the while.
“Normally I don’t toss a man into a rosebush without buying him dinner first, but I tend to make an exception when there’s a Silurian war scout on patrol. Sorry about that, by the way. But it was either the bush, or letting you get dragged off somewhere and interrogated by lizards. Still! All’s well, as they say! That scout won’t be back this way again for a while… You alright? I’m The Doctor, by the way! Nice to meet you!”
Casanova wasn't a stranger to daring escapes, but being thrown into a rose bush without so much as a warning beforehand was certainly new. He'd suffered worse indignities at his own hand, of course, but he'd always managed to come out of those affairs with his silks intact — unfortunately for them, the rosebush had other plans. After a moment of careful self-soothing, Giacomo took the stranger's hand and hefted himself up out of the bush, with brambles and petals stuck tight to his head like a broken crown. "Giacomo Casanova, Chevalier de Seingalt." He offered as casually as he could, then fixed the queer (but oddly familiar) Doctor with a look of confusion. "I'm sorry, what on earth are you talking about? Interrogated by lizards?"
🛁+reverse~
🛁 For your muse to come across my muse in the bath ( “+reverse” to reverse muses)
From Cam's point of view, a bedroom and a bathroom were two different rooms. Hence the reason to have separate words for them, right? So what he had not expected, when he'd knocked his friend's bedroom door to check if he was in there, was a big cast iron, clawfoot bathtub in the middle of the chamber - with a very naked Giacomo inside.
"Jesus, Giac!" he complained, slapping a hand in front of his eyes even though the Venetian clearly wasn't bothered by his nudity. "Ye even said 'come in'! Ye coulda jest asked me tae wait until ye were done!"
To say Giac was unruffled by Cam's reaction would be an understatement — in fact, the Italian almost seemed to bask in his friend's dramatized show of discomfort, and made no attempt to cover the bits of skin that the bath's suds failed to conceal. After a beat of silence, Casanova shifted his weight against the side of the tub, then fixed his dear friend with a grin that could've shamed the devil himself. "When have you ever known me to be bashful?" A thoughtful look then marked his features with a noted suddenness, which by its very nature was a warning of lies to come. "Putting that aside, your visit might've been urgent, so I had a duty to let you in."
💞 cunnilingus or fellatio?
Well, I do happen to be the master of certain parts myself, which must bear some weight — my aptitude for pleasing the latter would likely be greater than the former, but only by the barest amount.
💞 sex in public, yay or nay?
Oh, 'yay'.
I can scarcely imagine anything more thrilling than a roust with an exhibitionist.
In the spirit of Sinday, feel free to send 💞 + any dirty questions you may have for them on anon, and they HAVE to answer honestly!
-
forgive me father for i have sinned in all the most intricate, exquisite and aesthetically pleasing ways i was capable of
Grimani: Might I ask, what are your plans while in England?
Casanova: Oh, I thought I might-
Grimani: Because I’ve heard about your exploits abroad, it’s the same pattern every time; You charm and flatter and lie through your teeth until idiots throw money at you. Let me tell you, Casanova, you won’t find it so easy here. I have considerable influence within the English court, I can demand an audience with King George the second himself. So go on, try your tricks and you will fail.. I’ll see to that.
Casanova: You’re just dying to kiss me.
Casanova (2005), directed by Sheree Folkson.
writinghannibal:
“It is difficult for us to reconcile our own observations of our behavior, our inner experience of our thoughts, and our expectations of others,” Hannibal tents his fingers over his chest as he speaks, “and more importantly, our concern for what others expect of us. The performances that we put on to be what we anticipate others expect of us get tiring. And yet, we find it difficult to stop this performance, despite intellectually knowing that others have a perception of us within their minds that is ultimately inaccurate to who we really are.”
“Tell me, Giacomo, are you tired of performing?”
Whatever preconceived notions he had about therapy and taking care of one’s mental health, he certainly hadn’t been expecting this. There was no whimsy or fun to be had, but perhaps that’s why, ultimately, his hand was forced.
Doctor Lecter had great points, naturally, but Giacomo still couldn’t help feeling - stripped? Degraded? No, those words went too far, and yet failed to reach deeply enough to reach the root of it. The feeling was something akin to that; his vulnerabilities were laid bare before his ever watchful therapist, like upturned cards upon a table, so that was only reasonable.
“Who am I if not a performer?”
writinghannibal:
Hannibal noticed the mirroring immediately and tilted his head slightly.
“You don’t believe that,” he responded immediately, “but you would like to.”
Dark blues narrowed with some air of suspicion about them, but he gave no voice to his theories on Hannibal’s powers of insight, wild as they were.
“Perhaps. It’s difficult to reconcile.”
boeshaneposterboy:
“I would be very pleased for your company,” Jack told him. And that wasn’t just flirting, he actually would. “I’ve never been to Venice before, so having someone who knows the city would be a great boon. Besides, such pursuits are always best with company.”
This could certainly be interesting. Jack flirted as easily as he breathed, but he also did just genuinely enjoy people. Regardless of sex, race, gender, species, or any other factor. He just liked people.
“So tell me, what are some of your favorite places in the city?”
Jack’s open honesty was a refreshing note to their meeting, as so many in that city tended to be a pretender in one way or another; so much so that truth had become something of a rarity among them. “You are quite right, signore Harkness.”
The Italian’s unoccupied arm swept out from his side, but remained bent at the elbow, hopeful that the captain might take hold of it as many ladies (and gentlemen) before him had done. “I may no longer be part of the clergy myself, but I am still quite fond of the basilica Santa Maria degli Angeli. It certainly isn’t as grand as Saint Mark’s basilica, but it does have its charms.” Giacomo might be a proud sinner, but he could appreciate fine art when he saw it, even if it happened to be tucked away in the many houses of God.
ooswcld:
from @chevalier-de-seingalt
“and what astrological purposes were they? i’m definitely curious after seeing such a thing.” she will forever be a suspicious woman - though at times her suspicions may be dormant. meaning, if clara got distracted by another important factor.
“Oh, just sorting out the romantic lives of others based upon their astrological signs.” Most of the horoscopes he gave were well researched, but probably meant less than the services an actually astrologer could provide. He raised a hand, and turned one of the rings within the sphere with a quiet creak, showing her one of the facets of the device. “Are you looking to become an astrologer yourself?”
❝I’ve never seen such a thing.❞
“What, this armillary sphere? It’s a tool I’ve used for Astrological purposes.”
guadnahd:
“No, Giac, I love his work. It’s Liszt’s… attitude that I don’t like. You can hear it in his work. The… the smugness.” Allen continued to ramble as his fingers gradually came to a halt. This was a piece he had played a thousand times, and the thousandth time had him feeling awfully weary of it. Frowning, he thumbed through the sheet music left on the stand, occasionally eyeing Casanova.
“If your fingers sting so much, it means you don’t practice enough. It’s not like you to slack off.”
“You’re reading too mush into what he’s tried to do. He clearly has a complicated mind, and it comes out in..” He paused, waving his free hand in the air, hoping it might aid him in gathering the right right words. “the complexities of the scores he writes. S’not about smugness.” With that, the aiding arm dropped down again, thumping against the fine upholstery he laid atop.
“I practice plenty! I’ve just got to keep my hands soft, y’know... S’better than scraping a woman’s breasts with callouses.” He did have calloused fingers from playing, so what he was on about was really anyone’s guess.
guadnahd:
“You know… you know what I hate most about him? His pretension,” Allen slurred. “Just had to make things difficult for us poor pianists, the bastard.”
He made a wide gesture with his hands that nearly turned the white wine out of his glass. The evening was young, but the young man had already done more than his share of partying. His fingers lazily brushed against the piano keys, slowly settling into a deep and gentle rolling melody.
“Not so terrible as what you go through, though,” Allen continued, squinting and tensing every so often as the song gained momentum. “You violinists have it far worse. We get interpretations of Paganini; you get Paganini.”
Giacomo was probably equally inebriated at this point, but seemed to be in far better spirits, even laughing at his old friend’s imagined plight.
“If you hate his work so mush, why the hell do you put s... so mush effort into playing?” He met the younger’s wild gesticulation with one of his own, highlighting how his hands still danced over the keys with wild abandon. “However you feel about it, you make it sound beautiful.”
With compliments given, Giacomo’s lanky form rolled from its seated position on the edge of his chaise lounge, sprawling over the entirety with a half empty bottle of white wine clutched lovingly to his chest. “I don’t hate Paganini as sush, his work just... makes my fingers sting sometimes.”
