#but he's a RESPECTFUL arsehole

[askblueandviolet]

macaque, why do you keep using they/them for mayor? I heard from many people that when someone dislikes a person they ignore their chosen pronouns, (although of course that would not work with mayor because they use any pronoun)

MASTER POST

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[spywhitney]

Me: Fantasizing about posting an extensive Sydney and Carmy meta post on reddit.

Also me: Knowing the bear sub reddit is just a Richie Stan account in (poor) disguise, and it'll get little engagement or the comments will unsurprisingly swerve to the topic of Richie or be straight up dismissive.

[aspiringhorrorauthor]

You know, nearly getting bitten by dogs every day is a workplace hazard and I accept that. It’s fine, I wish it didn’t happen but it’s fine, it the risk of being a vet

What’s not fine is owners who do not appreciate that vets don’t *want* to be bitten and are more worried for their dog after it tries to attack me than they are for me.

[dreamescapeswriting]

Stray Kids Reaction || He Throws His Wedding Ring [Maknae Line ] [Mafia Edition]

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - February 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of blood, killing, sex trafficking (not involving the reader) murder and fighting.

JISUNG:

"I wasn't flirting with him! I don't know why you're accusing me of such a thing." You grumbled at Jisung who shook his head at you, watching as you walked toward the dressing table in your bedroom and took the earrings from your ears, the earrings he'd paid for and watched you wear as you flirted with other men. His anger was bubbling over as he stared at you,

"I saw the way you were looking at him, Yn, don't play games with me." You started rubbing your temples, getting tired of going through this again and again. Ever since you'd been dragged out of the party he'd been lecturing you about flirting, something you hadn't even done.

"I was being polite. I don't know what you want from me. First, I'm too standoffish, now I'm flirting?!" He'd told you to be nice to everyone at the party, that everyone there was someone who deserved to be treated with respect so that was what you'd been doing. You'd spoken to Dante a little longer than anyone else but you'd been helping pick a necklace for his wife - Vivian. 

"Polite?! It looked to me like you were ready to throw yourself at him. I can't have my wife acting like that, especially in our world." You stared down at the ring on your finger, feeling the weight of his accusation on your shoulders and you tried to hold back the tears.

"Jisung, I married you because I love you. I did not come into this marriage to be accused of things I didn't do." You told him, lifting your head to look at him and he was twisting the ring off his finger and placing it down onto the bed.

"Maybe you should find someone else who will let you flirt with other men," You shuddered a little at the sudden escalation of all of this. You just wanted him to understand that you hadn't done anything.

"I don't want anyone else, Jisung. I want you to trust me." You breathed out but he stormed out of the room leaving you alone you stared down at the ring on the bed, sniffling as you slowly sank down onto your knees,

"I don't think she would want you here," You heard Dante express as you looked up from the book you were reading. After Jisung had walked out on you, you'd packed a bag and headed to Vivian's for a few nights wanting to clear your head.

"Why are you here?" You turned your head to face Jisung who was seething with anger.

"Vivian invited me for a sleepover."

"Who's-" Jisung couldn't finish his question as Vivian came into the room with wine glasses, freezing when she saw Jisung standing there.

"I'm taking my wife home."

"She doesn't want to." You told him as you opened your book and went back to reading.

"She doesn't have a choice," Jisung grumbled as he took your hand and helped you up from the sofa.

"You come willingly or I take you, it's up to you, Sunshine." You hadn't heard him call you that in years and the nickname sent shivers down your spine.

"I can't be with someone who doesn't know how to trust me."

"I know how. I was an arsehole and I never should have said what I did."

"I have to see this," Dante whined but Vivian was quick to walk him to their private bedroom so you and Jisung could finish.

"I'm sorry," He stated, his voice full of concern and sincerity and you knew he meant it.

"I should have trusted you from the start but I just couldn't see past my own blind rage. Dante could take you if he wanted to."

"That would be kidnapping...I'm only interested in one man, Jisung and it's only ever always been you."

"I'm sorry," He whispered as you stepped closer to him, sighing a little as you ran your hands over his cheeks sweeping away the tears.

"Take me home." You told him before placing a gentle kiss on his cheek.

FELIX:

"You never listen, Felix!" You yelled out with a sharp whine, the two of you were in his office in a heated argument and almost everyone in the house had scattered after hearing you both.

"It's always your business, never a moment about us!" Your voice echoed through the room as Felix sat at his desk with his fist clenching around his glass,

"I provide for you, Yn! What more do you want?!" He finally yelled back, the final straw breaking the camel's back after listening to you yell at him for the last hour and still having no idea why you were fighting with him in the first place.

He'd only come home late and you were jumping down his neck about how he wasn't there for you.

"I want a husband that is there for me! That actually shows up when he's supposed to!" You yelled at him, shaking your head as you thought back on what tonight was supposed to be. A meal between families, your parents and Felix were going to sit down with you both for the first time in months and he hadn't even bothered to show up.

"Is this because I missed that stupid dinner?!" The fact that he was calling it stupid only further fueled your anger with him.

"Stupid? You didn't call it that when you asked your parents to come."

"Look, I'll make it up to you. I'll buy you whatever-"

"I want my fucking husband to show up when he's supposed to!" You cut him off, if you were anyone else in the world Felix would have killed you on the spot for interrupting him and you knew that.

With the argument intensifying Felix impulsively ripped off his gold band and hurled it across the room before it clattered at your feet. You stared down at it, soft sobs leaving your throat as you stared down at the ring that clearly meant nothing to him. 

"I mean that little to you?" You sniffled, turning your head to look at him and Felix was filled with instant regret but before he had a chance to utter an apology you were already fleeing the room.

It didn't take him long to find out where you were hiding and your parents let him in instantly, leaving you alone as you stared down at your wedding album.

"We used to be happy." You muttered to him, turning the pages and looking at what you used to be. Now there were nothing but cracks in your marriage and broken vows on both of your parts.

"We can still be happy..." Felix sunk down onto the floor beside you and you laid your head on his shoulder sighing a little.

"You work too much. You miss too much," You mumbled as he took your hand in his, his ring back on his finger as he stared down at your fingers that were interlocked with one another.

"I'll delegate the work, I'll take a step back." He promised, you'd heard the promises before but there was something behind his words this time that made you believe them.

SEUNGMIN:

You couldn't even believe Seungmin, after promising you that he'd stick to having fun tonight he'd snuck off to do business behind your back and at your party no less.

"What are you doing? Changbin said you were outside, you're supposed to be inside baby." Seungmin placed his hands on your shoulders but you shrugged his touch away from you, everything felt so cold with him later tonight. 

"Sixteen." You told him plainly, watching as a cab pulled up outside of the luxury hotel that Seungmin had hired out for your party tonight.

"Sixteen what?" Seungmin frowned not following along,

"You've broken sixteen promises in the last three months." You clenched the jacket around you tighter and stared at him as a storm brewed inside of you. Tonight was supposed to be special, both of you were dressed up to the nines and ready to party and he'd promised to keep everything fun.

"You promised, Seungmin that tonight was my night and you were off doing business."

"This is how things work, Yn. I needed to do this deal." He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose as if he couldn't believe you were upset over something so small. It was a business he'd been working on for almost a year now and tonight was the only night the man was willing to close the deal, it was his only chance.

"You promised." You whispered, trying to get him to realise the weight of his actions but it was as though he didn't care at all.

"You knew when you married me things were going to be like this." As if that was any justification for any of this, you shook your head at him and stepped toward the cab opening the door for yourself. 

"Did I? Because the Seungmin I thought I was marrying never broke a single promise to me." The whole nine years before the two of you had gotten married had been the best times of your relationship, it felt as though once he had you he didn't care to try and put in any more effort.

"Then maybe you never should have married me then," The words hung in the air as you both stared at each other, the DJ's music the only buffer between you.

"Maybe." You whispered staring at him, waiting for him to take it back or to at least take you back inside but he just took off his ring and threw it behind the cab. He locked eyes with you as you got into the car and told the driver to drive, anywhere but there and the gravity of his action began to weigh down on him.

"Yn! Wait!" He yelled out but the car was already speeding off leaving him in the aftermath of what he had just done.

"Why am I here?" You questioned Changbin - your personal guard - he'd dragged you out of bed that morning and down to Seungmin's home saying nothing to you.

"This will come as a surprise to many of you but it's come to my attention that I must step down." You stared at Seungmin as he spoke into a crowd of men.

"This isn't something I regret to inform you, in fact, it's something I'm welcoming with open arms." His eyes found yours in the crowd and he smiled warmly, 

"I'm leaving to spend time with my wife and eventually our growing family. I'll still be here but...mostly behind the scenes." With that he stepped away and headed over to you right away, you sniffled a little.

"Who said your wife still wants you?" You teased a little as he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you flush with his chest.

"If she doesn't I will spend every single day of my life trying to make her want me back," You smiled weakly before kissing him softly.

JEONGIN:

After the shot rang out you felt the warmth of blood on your face you knew what Jeongin had done and you felt sick as you stared down at the floor to see the man who had just been speaking about you on the floor. 

"W-What the fuck?!" You yelled out as you stared at Jeongin who was calmly making his way over to you and wiping your face with a tissue as if this was the most normal thing in the world for him to do. Which was in his line of work but he'd promised never to do anything like this in front of you, it was one of the conditions you had when you agreed to get married.

"He had it coming, he shouldn't have disrespected you," It was true he shouldn't have but that didn't mean taking the life of a man that neither of you knew.

"What if he had a family and he was their sole earner?!" You yelled at him but he shrugged, bending down and collecting the man's wallet so he could have his men do a background check.

"I'll provide for them. They're better off without the drunken low-life." You began walking away from him,

"That's not the way to the car, Beautiful." You ignored the nickname he had for you as you continued to walk in the opposite direction of him.

"You went too far, Jeongin." You using his full name was never a good sign and he swallowed the lump in his throat. 

"I didn't ask you to kill anyone for me." Your voice quivered with anger and fear as you shook your head at him.

"I did it for you. He was disrespecting you and I won't have it." You stopped in your tracks and turned to look at him, you couldn't believe that this was the same man you had once fallen in love with.

"So you'll kill anyone that even looks at me wrong?"

"If that's what it takes." He told you plainly, you let out a scoff and threw your hands up in defeat. The frustation finally took over as you stared at him. You needed him to see how wrong all of this was for him,

"You're disgusting. All of this power has gone to your head!"

"I do what needs to be done. This is our life and I won't let anyone or anything threaten it!" He yells at you, his face red with anger as you stare at him breathing heavily.

"I don't want this life anymore, not if it means losing you to the power you hold." You mumbled to him in the heat of the moment but Jeongin smirked at you, taking off his ring and throwing it to the floor. Silence hung in the air as you stared down at the ring in disbelief, the unbreakable bond you'd made together was now thrown to the ground as if it were trash so you walked away.

As it turned out it wasn't as easy as you'd hoped to walk away from Jeongin, you were forced to interact as a couple at events and the same with tonight.

"Will you ever speak to me again?" Jeongin whispered to you, 

"No, while you're a power-hungry weirdo," You mumbled before drinking from your glass, downing it and asking for another which was promptly brought to you.

"I'm stepping down." He told you as he watched you down another drink,

"I've heard that before." You grumbled only for him to place his hand on top of yours.

"Chan is taking over, I shouldn't be in charge," You stared at him and glanced over at Chan who was nervously waiting to speak to the party full of people.

"Is that what tonight is? You're resigning?"

"Stepping down, I'll still work but I won't...be in charge," He admitted as you stared at him,

"Why?"

"Because given the choice between my wife and work? I choose you, every time." He whispered before clapping for Chan along with everyone else in the room.

@chiisaiblog @sw33tnight @kaitieskidmore97 @laylasbunbunny @stayconnecteed @saymyspringrain @toplinehyunjin @katnisspeetaprim @acciocriativity @just-aelia @choisoorin @straykids5star @midnightfrog625 @beccaskz @scarletemeterio @halesandy @junhannies @gothic4under4lord @lixie-phoria @soulphoenix1618 @aerastus @jin-from-the-block @lensfilm @elizaschuyler18 @piratequeen-impact @kpopsstuffs @chaeyoungs @delulu18 @xyahrinx @katsukis1wife @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @blairscott @4-chan-inpadella @niktwazny303 @moonlight-the-writer @armystay89 @hadassahchan @yxngbxkkie @myyouthdonut @extrhotjne @ca11me3mily @elissasimp @xakx @sleepb @kittymaryam-thebrowniefairy @kpopmenace143 @minhosify @loveforred @b1nn1e-1s-cut3

[xyziiix]

𝘛𝘏𝘙𝘌𝘌 𝘐𝘚 𝘈 𝘊𝘙𝘖𝘞𝘋 ~ 𝘑.𝘗 & 𝘚.𝘙

PAIRINGS: Captain John Price X Female!Reader X Lieutenant Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

WARNINGS: SMUT - this is pure porn u guys - MMF threesome, unprotected P in V (wrap it please for the love of god) spanking, ROUGH GHOST, Price being an arsehole, being fucked over a desk, Eiffel Tower 😏, oral (m!receiving), creampie, kinda degrading.

A/N: I heard your pleas you little horndogs. You ask and you shall receive. (Sorry it’s a lil rushed and — surprise surprise, not proof read yet)

[could be read as a part 2 to ARDOUR, could also be read by itself)

It was Price that had noticed it first.

Of course he had. He was regardful. Observant.

He noticed it first a few days after you’d returned to base from Urizakstan. The way the Lieutenant’s eyes would linger on you when you were talking or just suddenly appeared — breathing life into the room, as you usually did. And it wasn’t just in a way one would be respectably paying attention to someone whilst they were speaking or doing something to gather their attention — No. it was the way his eyes — ones that always seemed devoid of emotion — would follow your body when you moved around, would watch you like a predator stalking it’s prey. Price recognised the look in his eyes.

Because that’s how he also looked at you.

While the situation you and Price were in was… delicate — and would definitely rouse misplaced reactions by the people in your place of work — he thought the idea of another man looking at you the way Ghost did would’ve angered him. Made him jealous. Irrational.

But for some reason it didn’t irk him as he thought it would.

And it wasn’t long after that he figured out Simon knew about you two. Perhaps the way Ghost seemed to be more observant and more silent than usual when the two of you were normally interacting with each other in front of the task force — keeping it strictly professional while you weren’t in the privacy with only each other. So that’s how Price figured he knew. Why would he be acting odd — even more than usual — about the two of you simply talking in the same room as everyone? It was like he knew a secret, a dirty secret.

Turns out he did.

In that battered down, sad excuse of a safe house in the Urzikstan dessert, it turns out not everyone was asleep that night while your Captain decided to fuck you.

You two had hidden it well — he’d give you both credit for that — so it was safe to say it had genuinely surprised him when he saw the sight in front of him that night. He was careful. Quiet. Like a ghost. Sticking to the shadows and moving silently — which was very surprising considering the Lieutenant’s looming height.

He had heard the noises — your noises — and it was obvious they were trying to be muffled. At first, he’d immediately thought of danger, that’s why he had been cautious to approach instead of just bursting into the room.

He remembers the feeling of his chest tightening in realisation when he saw what he saw. Price’s back was to Ghost — laying on his side on the ground. He couldn’t get a good look at your face, but he could see the glow of perspiration from the moonlight shining through the thin glass pane window and onto the dewy skin of your bare leg draped over Price’s thigh. Even just the silver of soft skin and the sound of your singing being trapped into the Captain’s palm had Simon hard, his pants tightening in his groin area — other than that he remained completely silent, even his breathing seemed nonexistent as he just watched the two of you. He didn’t even touch himself either, just watched. Like he thought if he looked away for a moment then the image of you like this would be gone.

But now it had been burned into his memory. The sounds you made. The soft and supple flesh of your thigh. And even the way your dainty hand had grabbed onto Price’s arm when he made you come. He wondered if you’d make those noises for him — except he wouldn’t muffle them with his palm. No. He’d want you to let everything out, every scream, every cry, every wanton moan while he fucked you dumb with his cock.

Price had brought up his observation of the Lieutenant one night a few weeks later. Both of you basking in the afterglow of sex in your rooms in the barracks.

“Simon.” He started simply, and you had turned to look at him quizzically.

“What about him?”

“Think he knows.”

Somewhere between then and now, you had discussed the possibility of this. To say you were very surprised when Price was the one that suggested Simon fucking you was an understatement. It wasn’t that Price wanted to be sexual with Ghost — as sexy as that would’ve been to see — he liked the idea of watching him fuck you. He couldn’t explain why, but just something that had been brewing in the back of his mind.

You had told Price that he wouldn’t have wanted that — that he was a closed off person who was hard to read, how could John have possibly conjured up that assumption that Simon was attracted to you?

Well, your captain always liked proving you wrong.

Because here you were, bent over the expanse of John’s desk — the desk you’d already had the pleasant experience of being bent over, laid atop of, and sat underneath while you sucked his cock as he sat in the desk chair — only this time it was infact, Lieutenant Simon Riley plowing into you with his intimidatingly large cock.

His grip on your hips was borderline painful — but it hurt so good. You worried he may make the desk topple over with how hard he was thrusting into you. You’d never been this stretched open before — feeling the too much, too full feeling of his dick inside of you, the blunt head of his length kissing the plug of your cervix with each steady but strong buck of his hips.

The masked man’s gaze was set of the globes of your arse, how the flesh rippled when his hips met yours, how every time it did so he got a glimpse of your little puckered hole — fuck, he wanted to fuck you there as well. But, he didn’t want to push his luck just yet. The only noises to be heard in Price’s office was skin meeting skin, the sound of your small cries and whimpers of ecstasy. You tried to stay quiet, you really did, but it was rather pathetic — your moans eventually interjecting through the room.

That’s when Price had changed his mind about just watching you. He had been painfully hard the last 15 minutes from having watched you already come on Ghost’s cock, your eyes glassy and lips red raw from biting them as you gripped onto the table for dear life. You didn’t even register him standing in front of you until you heard the sound of metal teeth being zipped open as well as the buckle of his belt.

“Gotta keep you quiet, love.” He excused with a chuckle while sliding his cock between your lips.

You really did have to keep quiet. And though the door was locked anyone walking by would’ve heard you — being fucked by your lieutenant while your captain watched.

You tried to focus on hollowing your cheeks around John’s cock. But you were utterly cock drunk, already feeling another powerful orgasm building in the pit of you abdomen while Simon continued to fuck you. Price had obviously noticed you struggling — as the bastard seemed to notice everything, he’d smugly remind you — so he had gathered your hair, using it to lift your head up as he started to fervently fuck your throat.

If you thought you felt impossibly full then you were beyond stuffed now, your jaw slack as John fucked your face and your pussy stretched almost painfully wide around Simon’s cock.

Ghost let out a prolonged, raspy breath when he felt you squeezing his dick in a vice. And in return, one of his hands left your hips in order to collect both your wrists with his single, calloused palm, pining them to your lower back as he fucked you impossibly harder, his pace quickening a little. His other palm landing a smack to your sore asscheeks — a crack of palm meeting flesh sounding in the office.

“Look at you, eh?” Price spoke, his tone annoyingly steady despite your mouth gliding up and down his cock. “Being fucked by your superiors. What would everyone make of you?” He asked with a gruff chuckle — and obviously you couldn’t answer.

About several moments later you felt yourself tumbling into another fierce climax, all but crying around John’s cock as your abused cunt squeezed Simon pitifully — which rewarded you with another slap to your rear, the skin red raw.

“Fuckin’ hell.” Simon grunted lowly — that adding to the short list of words he’d actually spoken this whole time.

Your arse hurt, your wrists hurt, your jaw hurt — your fucking pussy hurt — but you didn’t want it to stop, ever.

John pulled his cock out of your mouth, his dick coated in a mix of saliva and precum. His hand still buried in your hair — keeping your head up. Your neck hurt as well.

“Such a good girl.” Price praised as he bent his knees a little to see your face better, a smug smile curling his lips at the tears staining your flushed cheeks. “He makin’ you feel good?” He asks, there’s an edge to his voice.

The Lieutenant — being so full of surprises tonight — pushes his hand under you. The rough pad of his thumb cruelly flicking your clit. Your body seizing forward, a sharp cry escaping your lips while Simon still held your wrists pinned behind you.

When your eyes had widened at the overstimulating sensation, John had mirror your expression — but mockingly. “You like being used like this don’t you?”

You could only moan in response — unable to form a coherent thought let alone sentence.

Price tapped your cheek, your eyes focusing back on his smug face. “Asked you a question, love.” He reminded you. Arsehole.

“Yeah-“ you managed to babble out, your words shaking in tandem with your body, John’s smile curled into a Cheshire Cat grin — his goatee lifting.

“Yeah, you do.” He repeated.

Neither men had lasted much long after that. Price had gone back to fucking your face while Simon was relentlessly pounding into you. Your third orgasm was — quite literally — breath taking, it felt like your skin was on fire, yet numb at the same time. You definitely couldn’t feel your legs. Ghost came first, burying himself all the way to the hilt before spilling hot ropes of come inside of you with a groan — so much that it leaked out of you in a dribble of pearly white, you had let out a pathetic whine when he pulled out — the empty feeling had you quivering around nothing.

Price came a few moments later, filling your mouth with his salty spend before you swallowed it all. It tickled your raw throat.

Ghost had left soon after, not that he was ignorant in checking up on you, but because he knew that wasn’t his place to do so — not yet anyway. He had helped you up from the desk though, soothing his hands up and down your waist before Price took over. He had shared a look with you — his eyes saying everything his mouth wouldn’t.

@tapioca-marzipan @kanyewestburnbook @darksxder @louve-barnes @emodanoriddler @imonmykneessir @nightingal3-tales @ghost-2513 @fruitymoonbeams-blog

I tagged the ppl who commented on ARDOUR, if your name isn’t in grey then it wouldn’t let me tag you x

Call Of Duty MW2 Masterlist

[kymerawrites]

"You're such a bloody drama queen," Simon grumbled under his breath, smoking a cigarette as he watched her pace back and forth. He didn't move an inch from his spot on the couch, arms crossed over his chest. It was always like this with her; they argue, they make up, they argue again. It was a vicious cycle they couldn't seem to break free from. He took a drag of his cigarette before blowing out a stream of smoke, eyes still locked on her

"Can't you just sit still for a bloody second?" Simon snapped, his irritation getting the better of him. "You're giving me a damn headache with all that walking around." He tapped his fingers impatiently on the armrest, his gaze following her every movement. He couldn't help but feel frustrated by her constant need for motion, like a caged animal.

"I could if you'd stop being such a controlling arsehole," she shot back, stopping in her tracks to glare at him. "Sorry if my pacing bothers you, but I have the right to move around in my own home." She crossed her arms, her defiant stance mirroring his.

"Your home?" Simon echoed, a mocking edge to his voice. He snorted, extinguishing his cigarette in the ash tray. "Last I checked, we share this apartment. And believe me, I didn't ask for a fidgety partner who can't sit still for two seconds."

“God for fuck sakes Simon, you make me pace this way. Can’t you see that?!” I said irritated

He rolled his eyes, clearly unperturbed by her retort. "Oh, and it's all my fault that you're pacing around like a maniac?" He leaned back on the couch, his gaze sharpening. "Maybe, just maybe, you should try taking some responsibility for your own actions instead of blaming everything on me. Ever thought of that?"

I huffed in annoyance, not backing down from his gaze. "And maybe you should stop making me so bloody irritated that I can't stand still! You're always bossing me around, like I'm some sort of property and not a person with my own thoughts and feelings."

He stood up abruptly, his tall frame towering over her. "You know damn well that's not true," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "I don't treat you like a bloody object. I care about you, even if you can't see it. And if I come off as controlling sometimes, it's because I want to bloody protect you."

“Oh no, it’s you and your fucking lieutenant, commander whatever the fuck you are act in my space.” I scoffed

His eyes narrowed at her sarcastic remark. "Watch your bloody tongue," he warned, his tone more menacing than before. "You know damn well what I do for a living, and I don't appreciate your tone. But while we're on the subject, you could learn a thing or two about respecting your partner. Maybe if you weren't such a bloody pain in the arse all the time, I wouldn't have to step in and take charge."

That comment hit me, just a little to make me shift from mad to confused “so, if I’m such a pain to you, such a..liability why not leave me?”

He gritted his teeth, his frustration mounting. "Because goddamn it, I care about you," he snapped. "Despite all your attitude and stubbornness, I can't just walk away. Believe me, I've bloody tried. But deep down, I know I can't let you go. Even if you drive me mad with all your whining and dramatics."

I turned around not to face him “you can also just say you love me.”

He sighed, raking a hand through his hair. "Bloody hell," he muttered under his breath. He walked closer to her, his movements slow and deliberate. "I do love you, alright? But love doesn't make this any easier. It complicates everything. Because even though I love you, you still piss me off like no one else can, and it drives me bloody insane."

He grabbed my waist and hugged me from behind I just smirked “and yet I think you love all the sass and drama I give you don’t you?”

He let out a scoff, his fingers digging into her waist. "Bloody hell, you know me too well," he muttered. "Yes, there's something infuriatingly addicting about your damn attitude and all the drama you bring into my life." He buried his face in her neck, inhaling her scent.

He chuckled softly against her skin, his breath warm and tickling. "Bloody hell, you drive me wild with it. Part of me wants to strangle you, and the other part..." He trailed off, his hand roaming higher up her body, tracing her curves.

“Finish that sentence si..” I whispered

He nipped at her earlobe, his voice low and gravelly. "And the other part wants to do things that I can't even say in public." He spun her around to face him, his gaze dark and intense. "You have no idea the effect you have on me, how you make me feel. It's maddening, it's intoxicating and it's all your damn fault."

He pushed her against the wall, his body pressing against hers. His hands gripped her wrists, pinning them above her head. "You know what else is maddening?" he growled, his face mere inches away from hers. "How bloody irresistible you are when you're all defiant and stubborn like this. It's like you're begging for me to put you in your place."

He dipped his head, his lips brushing against her neck, leaving a trail of warm, open-mouthed kisses. "And the worse part is, you know damn well you have me wrapped around your little finger. Even when you're infuriating me, I can't get you out of my head." He nipped at her skin, his teeth grazing her sensitive spots.

He dipped his head, his lips brushing against her neck, leaving a trail of warm, open-mouthed kisses. "And the worse part is, you know damn well you have me wrapped around your little finger. Even when you're infuriating me, I can't get you out of my head." He nipped at her skin, his teeth grazing her sensitive spots.

He shifted his body, pressing his thigh between her legs. "You push my buttons on purpose, just so you can get a reaction out of me. And bloody hell, you always get the reaction you want." He pinned her even tighter against the wall, trapping her in his embrace.

His lips found hers in a hard, possessive kiss. He dominated the kiss, his tongue delving into her mouth, claiming her in a way that was both rough and passionate. He pushed his body flush against hers, his hands roaming down to grip her thighs, lifting her up against the wall.

“You’re too good for me si..” I laughed as he lifted my legs on the wall forcing me to embrace them around his waist

He grunted with the effort, his muscles straining as he pressed her against the wall. "Bloody hell, you're a menace," he growled, his lips finding her neck again, sucking and nibbling on her sensitive skin. "Bloody menace with your damn legs wrapped around me like this. Drives me wild to have you like this, all vulnerable and pliable in my arms."

He ground his hips into hers, his arousal evident against her core. "And you're damn wrong about that. I'm not too good for you. I'm just bloody addicted to the way you make me feel, like you're a poison I can't get enough of."

I rolled my eyes “just kiss me already lovebird.” I smiled

He chuckled at her cheeky remark, his eyes dark and intense. "Bloody smartass," he murmured, before capturing her lips in another fierce kiss. He devoured her, his tongue delving into her mouth and dominating the kiss. The kiss was rough and passionate, full of pent-up desire and frustration.

And ofcourse they kissed and made up just for the cycle to continue

[icarustypicalfall]

Hallway

Phillip Graves x Fem!Reader

MASTERPOST

Summary: Based on MW3, where you give the Arrogant Commander a cold shoulder as he teams up with your unit in the purpose of catching the bad guys.

Warnings: Cod usual violence, based on MW2 and MW3, mentions of Graves betrayal.

"Each day you rise with me , know that I'd gladly be the Icarus to your certainty."

Graves had returned.

The enthusiasm was tainted by the memories of his past actions. There was a time when he had almost taken the lives of everyone in the room. The tension was palpable during the call with General Shepard, and it lingered in the base as everyone awaited his arrival.

During his absence, you had been on a side mission. You never truly believed that Graves had died, knowing that he was not the type to go down so easily. If he were to meet his end, it would be in a more dramatic and tragic way, perhaps with a dagger piercing his heart, just as he had pierced yours when he nearly killed your teammates. Despite your disdain for the man, you couldn't help but longe for his presence. He relished in the power he held over you, ordering you around and demanding extra gym sessions to "maintain your strength".

Graves was back, "the American bastard" if you ask Gaz and an "the arsehole" as Soap added. Captain, unable to contain his contempt, had burnt half of his cigars to prevent himself from snapping the man's neck every time he opened his mouth. Ghost, true to his name, shot Graves his usual icy glares, though fortunately they were not lethal, or else Graves would already be rotting in hell.

Graves hadn't changed a bit. He still served that smug demeanor and spoke with a southern drawl that he seemed to inject into every word that fell from his lips. He smirked shamelessly, his eyes fixated on you before he confidently asked, "Missed me, darlin'? I know you did." Your heart tightened at his words, torn between wanting to slap him and kiss him senseless. However, you managed to maintain a neutral expression as he continued, "Where's my welcome back, sugar?"

Gaz, clearly unimpressed, intervened and pushed you away from Graves, dismissing his extended hand for a handshake. "Shove it up your arse," Gaz retorted, unyielding in his dislike and anger for the man.

Graves had been captivated by you ever since he joined TF141. You were a remarkable young woman, fierce and unafraid to speak your mind, earning the respect of your superiors. He couldn't help but feel drawn to you, despite his annoying smugness. His attempts to gain your attention often manifested as mockery and taunting. Deep down, he longed to hold you close and feel your touch. However, when you began to warm up to him, betrayal struck, driving a wedge between you.

He was determined to repair that breach.

"Aren't those weights a bit heavy for you, darlin'?" Graves remarked, his eyes fixed on you as you let the barbell fall to the ground. You hadn't even noticed his presence, so focused were you on your workout. Your chest tightened, reminiscing about the old days when he would taunt and annoy you. Though you had promised yourself to ignore him completely, he had broken your heart once, and you couldn't afford to let him reopen those wounds.

You ignored him, shooting him a cold glare before lifting the barbell once again. Graves smirked, amused by your icy demeanor. It was a challenge for him to see how much he could push you before you broke down and let your guard down. He relished in getting under your skin, even though it pained him not being able to approach you in any other way.

The room was thick with the scent of sweat and the heat of intense concentration. It was deathly silent, save for the sound of your shallow breaths and light paintings.

Graves stood there, unusually quiet, his gaze fixed on you like a predator stalking its prey. He swallowed the lump in his throat and spoke with a mockingly confident tone, his southern drawl becoming more pronounced. "You're hurting your hands, sweetheart. You're meant to look pretty and keep quiet, not fight men three times your size," Graves added.

Your eyes gleamed with a surge of adrenaline. You turned to face him, dropping the heavy barbell and walking towards him with a fiery glare. You snapped, your words laced with a fiery passion, a storm threatening to consume his very existence. "Want to see what these hands can do too?"

Graves smirked, folding his arms and exuding an air of confidence and arrogance. Yet, there was something else in his gaze. He yearned for your attention, scanning your figure from head to toe, as if watching you train or work countless times wasn't enough to memorize every inch of your skin. "Yeah, I'd love to find out," he replied eagerly.

In a swift motion, you tripped him up and landed a light punch, causing him to fall to the ground. The smirk never left his face. You pressed your knee against his ribcage, applying slight pressure as a warning. "I wouldn't hesitate to knock you out if you say something like that again," you warned, your voice filled with determination.

Graves let out a sharp gasp, feeling the weight of your presence pinning him down. His body tensed, his blood racing through his veins. He couldn't help but revel in the fire burning in your eyes. "I suppose I crossed a line, darlin'," he rasped, his voice low.

As you moved away, returning to your workout, Graves took a deep breath. He couldn't help but yearn for you even more, despite the cold shoulder you gave him. His eyes followed the contours of your body as you worked on the pulldown machine. Leaning against the wall, he shamelessly continued to stare, captivated by your every move.

He made no attempt to conceal the desire burning within him as he glanced over at you. Despite the potential risks of breaking a few rules and facing the consequences, he mustered the courage to speak up.

"Wouldn't you appreciate my help, darling? You seem quite confused."

You let out a sigh, raising an eyebrow as you observed the man. His face displayed an assured smirk that hinted at a superiority complex. His lips curled slightly, forming a subtle, knowing smile that added to the smugness radiating from his countenance. Clutching your water bottle, you muttered in frustration.

"Don't you have meetings or reports to attend to instead of wasting my time?"

"It won't take me long to finish those reports and meetings. Care to swing by my office and see for yourself?" Graves added with a teasing wink.

Your attempts to ignore him only fueled the fire burning in his heart and warming his soul. He folded his arms, leaning back against the wall as he watched you gather your belongings. A slight twinge of pain coursed through him, not wanting you to leave.

"Just leaving me here like that, sweetheart? You didn't even say goodbye."

"Why would I?" you scoffed, walking past him.

The scent of your perfume tormented his senses, and he found himself staring at the open door in shock. He followed you, feeling a wave of disappointment wash over him.

Why were you so distant now?

He longed to hold you, to kiss you, to embrace the burning sensation he felt. He called out your name, trying not to let his voice betray the desperation that consumed him.

"Darling, I..." Graves spoke softly, his eyes filled with pain.

You let out a sigh, finally stopping in the middle of the hallway. You didn't turn around, ensuring he wouldn't see the fire in your chest or the pain etched all over your face.

Graves experienced a mixture of emotions. His pride yearned to command you, to force you to face him and express your emotions. But he knew it was a losing battle, considering you had been ignoring him for the past few weeks. No one had ever treated him this way. He commanded, watching your calm figure in front of him.

"Look at me," he whispered, and you could swear you heard a hint of shyness and shame in his words. "Please...?"

You faced him, the venom and pain mixing in your heart, extinguishing any other emotions that remained in your mind.

"Of course, Commander. Why wouldn't I look at the man who once betrayed us?"

Graves gritted his teeth, his emotions in turmoil as anger and guilt battled within him. He was so close yet so far away, feeling himself being pulled towards you.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Graves finally met your eyes, his blue orbs filled with both desire and pain. A bittersweet serenity enveloped you both.

"You want me to acknowledge you as if you hadn't done anything. You've lived a long life, yet you still have no clue about the consequences of your actions."

Graves took a deep breath, his anger resurfacing, accentuated by his southern drawl, making him sound even more threatening.

"That was an order from Shepard. We had to take the base to ensure we could find the terrorists and make sure there were no survivors. As for Alejandro..." Graves hesitated for a moment but decided to be as honest as he could. "We were following orders. I didn't have a choice."

"They trusted you. I thought I could trust you," you whispered, your eyes piercing him with a cold, angry gaze.

Graves fell silent for a moment, feeling the sting of your words pierce his heart like a dagger. He cleared his throat before muttering, his tone tinged with weariness.

"I had to make choices I didn't want to. I couldn't refuse, not when hundreds of lives relied on me. Refusing meant their death. Someone had to die. This is war."

"Next time he asks you to bomb our base, you'll comply, won't you?" you challenged.

Graves's heart sank as you spoke. He hesitated for a few moments, trying to find the words to answer, but he had nothing to defend himself with. He spoke in a tired, exhausted tone, the fire that once burned within him now extinguished.

"No," he paused, his tone quiet and filled with despair. "I would rather end my own life than hurt a single hair of you."

Your head snapped up, confusion evident in your eyes. "What do you mean?"

Graves couldn't bear your cold words any longer. He turned away from you, his shoulders slumped as emotions began to overwhelm him. In his mind, he replayed all the moments he was forced to hurt and kill. His past and the pain he had caused were eating away at his soul. His voice was weak when he spoke, his Southern drawl a mere echoGraves couldn't hide his burning desire as he looked at you. Despite the potential risks and consequences, he mustered the courage to speak up.

"Nothing is more precious to me than you. I requested your captain to send you for gathering intel before my mission. I knew Shepard would use you as a threat, and my soldiers would try to detain you. Dralin, you are my only weakness, and I wish for nothing more than to protect you from harm," Graves said quietly, unsure if he was speaking to himself or to you.

You were completely shocked, taken aback by his words.

Was this his confession? What had you done to cause such a reaction from the usually composed commander?

Your mere presence seemed to have pushed him to the edge. But if it meant that you will embrace him and kiss away his sorrows, he was willing to accept that fate.

Graves continued, guilt evident in the way he cupped his left elbow. "Shepard is... influential. There was no time to ask for help. Besides, it was just me and my team against that army." He turned to look at you with a solemn expression. "It was impossible to fight them and survive..."

You looked down, your hand hesitantly reaching for his calloused palm, gently cupping it in your own. You squeezed his scarred flesh, silently murmuring.

"I believe you..."

Graves' gaze remained fixed on you. The warmth in your voice and your attempts to comfort him stirred something deep within his heart. He stepped closer to you, speaking softly.

"I was afraid of losing everything... I couldn't bear to imagine what would have happened to all of you if I had chosen to side with you instead of Shepard." Graves whispered, his words sounding like a confession.

Standing before you, he felt vulnerable. The touch of your cold hand in his made shivers run down his spine, reminiscent of the feelings of young love. Graves had fallen for many women, but none had ever made him lose his mind and experience the intoxicating bliss that you brought to his life.

"I'm sorry, darlin, my decisions are never perfect... I have blood on my hands... so much blood... I just..." he murmured, his head lowered and his eyes downcast.

Summoning the little courage you had, you brushed away a few strands of hair that had fallen on his face and leaned in to join your lips together. At first, he was still, shocked by the gesture, but soon his warm lips met yours, and the two of you became lost in a passionate embrace. It was enchanting, like two intertwined swans, their souls merging into one.

As you pulled away for a breath, your lips still lingering close to his, his hand cupped the back of your head, gently stroking your locks.

"I forgave you... a long time ago..." you whispered against his lips. A small twitch at the corner of his mouth revealed a genuine smile, not the usual smug grin or fake laugh. It was a smile that only appeared when you complimented his hair or his skills.

He hugged you tightly, holding you close to his chest, seeking solace in the curve of your neck. Finally, he let go of all the painful emotions that had been eating away at his soul, allowing you to embrace him and experiencing a sense of peace that he hadn't felt in a long time.

You kissed until you were breathless, leaning against the wall and savoring the eternal elixir of each other's lips. It was a divine moment, shared in the empty hallway.

Graves cupped your face, a smile spreading across his flushed features, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. Nothing else mattered to him now. Once a sorrowful man, believing he had lost everything, he had come back to life with you in his arms. Your sweet face smiled softly as you continued to kiss him, over and over again.

[treason-and-plot]

Roy slides off the bed and stands staring disconsolately at his pendulous cock. Crystal sits up, her expression one of confusion. Roy would be reassured, except he knows what a wonderful actress Crystal is. It’s one of the many skills that has enabled her to stay at the top of her profession for so many years.

“Sweetie, I’ve never laid eyes on him before tonight,” she says. “Cross my heart.”

“I wish I could believe you,” says Roy.

“Of course you can believe me,” she says, a crease of irritation appearing between her eyebrows. “Why wouldn’t you?”

“Because you’re a consummate professional, Crys,” says Roy. “And I mean that with all the respect in the world. It’s part of your job to maintain your clients’ confidentiality. It’s also part of your job to make your clients feel good. Obviously you wouldn’t admit to seeing that dipshit in the room because you know it would creep me out. “

“I have never seen that man as a client, Roy,” says Crystal, lifting her eyes heavenward and enunciating every word slowly and clearly.

“It doesn’t even matter anymore,” says Roy. “The fucking prick’s gotten into my head and completely ruined my night. Again. “

“What do you mean, again?” says Crystal.

“Don’t worry about it, " says Roy bitterly. "It’s a long and depressing story and I can’t be bothered going into it right now. I’m just going to have a shower and go. Christ almighty. Fuck that prick and his fucking Jedi mind tricks. He'd better sleep with one eye open, the goddamn arsehole....“

"Leave the water on for me, please Babycakes," murmurs Crystal.

[zeta-in-de-walls]

TommyInnit Times article

Hey, so Tommy apparently did an Interview for the Times. I’m copy and pasting the whole Times article for those who can’t access it. It’s a nice read. Enjoy!

If you’ve never heard of Tom Simons — aka TommyInnit — your children most definitely have. The 18-year-old gamer from Nottingham is one of the world’s most successful online streamers, with 40 million followers across all social platforms hanging on his every (loud) word and anarchic in-joke. You know, the kind of shouty Minecraft-related banter that tweens and teens find hilarious but leaves their parents baffled.

There’s no doubt he’s a master of his craft, with Guinness world records for most viewers of a Minecraft livestream on Twitch, the gamers’ platform, and most followed Minecraft channel. His net worth is estimated to be $10 million. His live show in July at the Brighton Dome sold out within 24 hours and he had a book published this week. Not many gamers make that crossover, or have their first interview in The Times come to that.

Simons must be one of the richest self-made 18-year-olds in the country and has a running joke with his subscribers that he’s a billionaire. (It’s presumably a joke, but he won’t be drawn.) “It’s cool I’m set up for life, but it doesn’t feel relevant to who I am. I don’t spend very much,” he says. “It hasn’t changed how pissed off I was when they upped the cost of the bus fare by 10p to £1.30.” He seems to mean it. This summer he visited fellow YouTube millionaires in their mansions and on private jets in LA, but he’s content living in the two-bedroom flat in Brighton he bought from his landlord, and his mum still orders him a Tesco shop occasionally.

He’s definitely got one over on the kids at his secondary school in Nottingham who made fun of him after they discovered Channelnutpig, the first gaming channel he set up on YouTube aged 11. He was mortified and took it down immediately. “You want to fit in and make friends, and in year 7 you’re beginning to understand that girls exist,” he says. “So it wasn’t that cool shouting, ‘Hello everyone, it’s me, Tom!’ on my channel every week and have people play that back in front of you.”

Two years later he migrated to Twitch, again streaming Minecraft videos and filming banter with his online friends, and at 14 began the TommyInnit YouTube channel that now has 11.8 million subscribers. This time he kept it secret. “Every time we’d be in a science lesson and they’d show an educational video my eyes would be glued to the ‘recommended’ on YouTube in case I popped up and people found out. I kept that secret for so long. I had 100,000 subscribers when people started finding out. “When I got to 100,000 there was this weird new respect everyone had for me. I’d walk through the hallway and they would still glare at me, but no one would shove me. It was like I had a force field around me. It was so strange. I remember a week before someone getting me in a headlock and shoving me around. I thought, ‘Wow, I’ve levelled up!’ ”

Was he bullied at school? He pauses. “Just normal arseholes, not anything more than anyone else. I was quite quiet. I just teetered on the edge of being funny enough that people wouldn’t beat me up. If someone was shoving me around I’d just make jokes and they’d leave me alone. But also funny enough that no one thought I was cool. At all. Which is the exact place I’m in now really.”

Simons is more quiet, thoughtful and endearing in person than he is on his channels or in the book, a collection of silly quotes and zany ramblings. He’s a self-confessed nerd (“My dad and I are massive nerds”) and says that his audience are mostly “the people I would hang out with at school, who were awkward like me”. He adds, “I’m quite anxious in real life, but I’ve always been very social on the internet. If you message someone and they ignore you, who cares? It’s not real life.”

He believes that most of his fans are aged between 14 and 20, but he knows that a lot of younger kids tune in for the Minecraft banter (or possibly the swearing). A year ago he started a YouTube channel under his own name to make real-life videos that now has 5.6 million followers. It’s free to subscribe — his earnings come from the advertising. He recently spent a month in New York vlogging his daily antics, such as I’m literally Spider-Man, in which he dressed up as the superhero, and Making 100 Friends in 1 Day.

Why does he think he’s so successful when there are others creating content along the same lines? He’s perceptive in his answer. “I think it’s the loud funniness — me having fun with my friends. But there’s also this element of warmness. It’s welcoming and safe,” he says. “It’s never toxic or preying on other people. Nothing is at the expense of anyone else. It’s better for the world not to say the easy, rude joke or the put-downs. There’s so much of that on YouTube.”

He says that his parents have always been supportive. His dad, Iain, was in the gaming industry, owning an arcade in Nottingham before setting up the GameCity festival. He now works with his son.

Simons’s mum, Sarah, is an actor-turned-English teacher for adults with disabilities who set up the further education group, UKFEchat on Twitter. “She was on Twitter long before I was,” he says. “Now she has a cool internet personality advising people how to keep safe online.”

She was less cool, he admits, when his GCSEs were approaching in 2020. “She sat me down and said, ‘Right, you have 100,000 subscribers and that’s really good, but you need to take school seriously. I know you’re not revising and your grades are dropping.’ She was right — I was getting grade 3s in science. Then that week we went into a global pandemic and I didn’t do a minute of revision as the exams were cancelled.” He ended up with a very respectable collection of GCSEs, including a 9 (the top grade) in English language. “It was the perfect amount of ‘mum points’ I needed to spend the [lockdowns] in my bedroom making videos.”

He then went to college to study for a BTEC in film and TV. By now he was vlogging and would spend time out filming. “Near the start of the second year I remember saying to my tutor, ‘I’m sorry, I can’t make it in very much.’ He said, ‘Listen, I shouldn’t say this, but we’re teaching you the thing you’re already doing so if I were you I would drop out.’ So I did. I started college with a million [subscribers] and ended it with ten million.”

When his schoolfriends were studying for their A-levels this summer, Simons already had his own flat in Brighton, renting then buying it. However, he says: “A lot of people want to live a lavish life and I just don’t. Mum still orders me a Tesco shop occasionally and will say, ‘I knew you needed groceries.’ I’ll say, ‘How on earth did you know that from Nottingham?’ ”

He says that his parents were no pushovers when he was younger and his dad refused to let him play Grand Theft Auto 5, even though his friends were allowed. “He said: ‘It’s got strippers in; you murder in that game. You’re 12, you can’t look at that, I’m sorry.’ They were really on top of it because they understood [gaming] and they communicated with me about it. When it turned into a career, they said, ‘OK, it’s important. We get it.’ But they’d still make sure I didn’t stay in my room all day. I’d still have to walk the dogs and [we’d] have dinner as a family.”

Simons doesn’t know how his career will unfold. He’s also getting used to being recognised. “Walking through Brighton I can hear my name being whispered all around me. It was a big adjustment. I became a bit scared of people after being inside for a year [during the pandemic]. I forgot how big the world was beyond my screen, but I’m loving it now.”

TommyInnit Says . . . The Quote Book by Tom Simons, curated and edited by Wilbur Soot, is published by Quercus, £14.99

[ellievickstar]

Is this Love?

A/N: So I wanted to do an an enemies to lovers and I thought: What better character to start with then Cardan Greenbriar. I really hope this is okay I know that @aroseinvelaris love the cruel prince so this is for you love <3

Summary: The king is the most infuriating person alive. But every time he looks at you, you feel your skin burn and your heart skips a beat. You hate the way he makes you feel alive, but you especially hate his obnoxiousness and horrible addiction to partying. However, after a night of drinking and reveling, what will you do when the King of Elfhame seeks you out?

Request: N/A

Pairing: Cardan Greenbriar x noble faerie!reader

Warnings: !!!Disclaimer!!!This does not follow the actual storyline, I’m kinda just winging it since it’s been some time since I’ve read the books and also I wanna get comfortable with the character first!!! Enemies to lovers, a bit toxic, intoxication, physical contact, being held against ones will

~*~*~*~*~

You wanted to kill him. “What. Did. You. Say.” You asked again, glaring at the King you were supposed to respect. You curled your fingers into a fist as they dug crescents into your palms. The king lazily smirked at your frustration, the papers you had given him falling out of his hand onto the floor.

“Your idea is dismal at best. It lacks any intellectual reasoning at it is also by far one of the worst that your family has ever presented me. You may be the representing noble, but honestly this presentation is just sad and pathetic,” You gaped, rolling your eyes as you snatched the papers from the ground, storming out of the room. That asshole. How dare he!? How dare he insult your ideas like that, knowing that you and your father had worked hard on those proposals together. How dare he insult your intelligence when he can barely even go a day without becoming intoxicated and doing something stupid at those parties he holds!

Fury bubbled within you as you stormed to your home. Waving your hands in the air as you ranted and raved about the King, you mumbled strings of curses and insults to yourself. That- That arsehole. That empty headed, intoxicated, narcissistic, egoistic, think-skulled arsehole. Start praying that he becomes sober because one more word out of that mouth will get him killed, either by your hands or some pissed-off royal from another far away powerful land.

Slamming the papers onto the table of your office, you sighed heavily, collapsing onto the armchair behind you. Being one of Elfhame's few females that is a representing noble for her family was far from easy. Especially when that lazy dumbass king that sat on his ass and drank all day already had prejudices against you since you were both children. You might have to reconsider killing him because, well, why not? Cardan Greenbriar is one of the most incompetent people in the entire kingdom and he still dared to insult YOUR intelligence. A scholar, the same lady who literally saved him from being murdered at the coronation. The absolute audacity!

You growled impatiently as you ran your hands through your hair. Sure, you might not be the oldest noble, but he hadn't even spared you a thought before tossing your ideas down the drain. What was so terrible about giving free education to poorer families in Elfhame? Was he so narrow-minded, so spoiled, so entitled, that he didn't realise that there are still fae out there suffering!?

"I guess it's back to the drawing board huh!?" You whipped your head around to your father. He smiled at you, crows feet appearing at the corners of his eyes, his hair white, his skin sunken and wrinkled. Human. Your father was human. Your mother had been the fae one, though she died at birth. However, you never felt her absence as your father had never let you doubt for one moment that you were absolutely loved. You softened at the sight of your father. He was old, weak. Definitely not things that were valued by the fae. And if it hadn’t been for your fae heritage and your father’s deep-rooted connections, you could be living a very different life.

“I’ll worry about that, you just rest, Pa,” Prompting your father gently to go to bed. He nodded, pride shining in his eyes, as he walked out humming a simple tune. Your heart broke at the thought of living a life after he dies, but it was inevitable. You had to figure this out on your own. Lest, Mr. I-hate-everything, would be breathing down your neck.

Sighing, you turned to your desk, riddled with stacks if loose papers and books. You had to figure something out, present something, you promised yourself. You would not let the king trample your idea of a better Elfhame.

~*~*~*~*~

You were…..so tired. Well that was one way to put it. How did some humans do this their whole lives? You had pulled an all-nighter to rewrite the reports that the King wanted and you couldn’t believe how truly exhausted you were. When you heard from your father that some humans do this from the time they are in middle school, you wanted to faint. You could barely hold it together as you changed clothes into a formal gown.

Regardless, it was done. Thankfully, you were finally done with the piles of work that you had delayed for so long. If you were lucky, the King would give you a day off. Trudging to the Palace of Elfhame, you let out a sigh as you smoothed down your skirts once more. Approaching the doors, you flinched when you heard laughter and the cacophony of a party from the inside.

“When will someone finally have a vendetta against me and murder me in my sleep,” You mumbled as you pushed open the doors, faltering slightly as you noticed the insane amount of people dancing and laughing under the influence. At the centre of it all, Cardan lazed on his throne, grinning as he held a goblet of what you guessed was a mixture of his favourite alcohols.

You were about to turn around and leave, however Cardan spotted you and promptly called out your name above the loud and jarring music. Realising that he was probably drunk and wouldn’t remember this anyways, you continued walking, huffing to yourself when you heard footsteps following you. Cardan’s footsteps.

“Wait! Would you listen to your King and just wait!?” You ignored him, despite your efforts, he still caught up to you, stepping in front of you to block your path. He reeked of alcohol, and….was that substances?

“Are you high!? And drunk!? It’s not even a weekend Cardan!” You yelled in his face. If he was both of those things he wouldn’t remember this anyways, so might as well get it off your chest. “You are so infuriating, you are not responsible, you barely make right judgments without your advisors, you are always a little bit drunk. You are not fit to be King. Let’s not even mention the fact that you always look down on me for being half-human! I hope yo-,” You couldn’t finish your sentence as you kept trying to shove Cardan, because as you tried to continue screaming at him, he caught your wrist and pulled you in roughly, meeting your with a kiss.

~*~*~*~*~

A/N: I don’t know about this….but eh. No harm no foul in trying. Honestly, I don’t think this is the worst fic I have ever written. So- I hope you had fun reading this. I had a little fun writing this. See you next time <3

(ALSO THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR 400 FOLLOWERS)

tag list: none for this character yet

[hyperfixatedoncrimminalminds]

Can I request an Aaron Hotchner x autistic!daughter young adult ideally but any age. Or even she’s on the team and he’s a father figure to her because her own is so ableist. My dad is so ableist and I have so much autistic trauma from him even though my autism is from him too. He thinks that gives him even more rights to say whatever he wants to me and bully me even more. I just need to know what it feels like to have a good dad who cares about my autism. Who cares about me ❤️❤️

Aaron Hotchner x Autistic! Young adult reader

Of course I can, I'm sorry you have to deal with that, my parents have trouble understanding my Autism as well but they are getting better. I will write this for you!

Summary: Y/Ns ableist Dad comes to the BAU and starts being an Ableist arsehole to his daughter, her father figure (Hotch) steps in and saves her.

Third Person pov...

It had been 3 years since Y/N L/N joined the BAU, she was 21 when she joined and instantly became the baby of the team and Hotch became her Dad, Y/N is autistic and has sensory issues.

Ever since she was little her father was ablest and would bully her and verbally abuse her saying how her being Autistic meant something was wrong with her and that she needed fixing, the man caused her to have so many meltdowns and sensory overloads that it made others concerned her teachers as school.

He was later arrested for child abuse and was sent to prison, Y/N was then left with her neighbours who were a nice loving family and always liked her but hated her dad and were glad she got away from him after suffering for years, her Mum was out of the picture.

The young girl had so much trauma from her childhood when she joined the BAU that Hotch became her father figure, their relationship helped mend Y/Ns trauma from her bio dad and she was able to live comfortably knowing he wasnt in her life anymore, she was treated with respect and was always told that her autism wasn't a bad thing.

From being with Penelope and Spencer (who are also Autistic) her relationship with her Autism was mended and she was able to be herself, while with her dad she could stim or doing anything 'autistic' but with her new found family she was free to stim and had all her accomedations, if anyone disrespected her or called her weird they would have to deal with an angry Hotch and the rest of the team.

It was a normal day for the team, they weren’t on a case and for once they all got to relax and fill out paperwork, well aside from Hotch and Spencer no one was doing any paperwork, Derek and Emily were sat giggling loudly like children as they kept throwing rolled up pieces of paper at their second youngest member.

The laughter increased as they kept hitting their mark, Spencers head, the genius was none the wiser as a pile of paper was forming around him at their many failed attempts. From the side JJ and Penelope sit and watch as Spencer doesn't realise, opposite the genius sat Y/N she was busy spinning in her chair with her headphones on and watching the scene play out.

She had the perfect poker face for when a paper ball hit Spencer's head, as the children in the bull pen play the two adults Hotch and Rossi where actually getting work done, , well Hotch was at least the Italian was drinking and watching the kids outside keeping an eye on them as someone responsible needed too.

As Y/N continued to spin around her in chair she didn’t hear the heavy footsteps off someone walking up behind her, the H/C woman was suddenly yanked off her chair and onto the hard floor by a man, in the process of being manhandled her headphones when flying off her head.

“What did I tall ya about doing that Girl!” exclaimed a voice that haunted her nightmares, gasping in terror Y/N stared frozen at her Father who was suppose to be in prison, the large man had a sickening grin on his face as he saw the terror in his daughter eyes.

“Yes its me!” he laughed that horrible laugh that had Y/N holding her hands overs her ears, the 21 year old was still frozen on the floor while the others were staring at the scene before them guns raised, by this time Hotch and Rossi had heard what happened and were out of their offices.

“bu-but your supposed to be in jail!” exclaimed Y/N finally finding her voice stuttering, the man looked down at her crumpled form, he then grabbed the front of her blouse pulling his daughter close. “they let me out for good behaviour, did ya miss me!” he semi whispered as Y/Ns face grew a sickening pale white, she scrambled to get away but the man wouldn’t let go instead he raised his hand and slapped her.

Y/N cried out in pain. “you really didn’t think I could be held for long did ya you retard! You really are still a fucked in the head as you were years ago” yelled the man, Hotch had had enough, he rain down thw ramp arms raised, gun in his hands. “Get your hands on hr now, you do realise you just assaulted a federal agent” growled out Hotch as the man teared his eyes away from the shivering form of his daughter.

He spat at Hotch. “your not her father I am, this waste of space in am Agent HA!”!” he laughed again and kicked Y/N hard in the ribs, Penelope gasps tears in her eyes as she witnesses her friend get beaten. Y/N holds in her cries of pain and raises her head from the floor glaring at the man.

“your not my dad you never have been!” she cried tears rolling down her face, the sadistic man smirked at the tears rolling down his daughters face, the sight reminding off when she was a kid and he would verbally abuse her, he had never hit her before now, it felt good.

Her words made him angry. “I am your father retard, though I hate to admit it you share my blood, your as stupid as I remember crying on the floor like the child you are to stupid to do what I say” he goes on on berating Y/N and saying how stupid she was once again verbally abusing her, as he went on his rant Y/N managed to stand up.

She was then pulled behind Hotch, his finger close to pulling the trigger. “you Bastard, you shut the fuck up now, you have crossed the line now get out of my building and away from my Daughter before I pump your body full of bullets!” yelled Hotch threw clenched teeth, he was so close to pulling the trigger instead he stormed up so he was chest to chest with the man and pulled back his fist.

When he lets go his right hand connected with the nose he was satisfied to feel it shatter, a smirk on his face before gesturing to a couple of agents. “now don’t ever come back or I will kill you” Hotches hand was burning but he felt satisfied when Y/Ns Dad freeze before he tsked and stormed out not before calling Y/N the R slur before he was detained by two agents ans forced into handcuffs.

Hotch crossed his arms before turning around to hug Y/N was had collapsed, the stress from her dad coming in draining her, she was then sat at her desk with Hotch hovering around her looking at her injuries, E/C eyes locked on his brown ones.

“Im your daughter” she whispers hoarsely, this made Hotch smile and run his hand through her hair. “of course, you are sweetie” he smiled softly kissing her forehead still smiling when she smiles back.

The end!!

Hoped you liked this oneshot so sorry for the wait! As usual sorry for the grammar and spelling mistake!

Requests are open!

Word count: 1366

[mercy-misrule]

I've been vague posting about hating shovel talk fic but I'll go on the record now

I've been reading bucktommy fic from 911 and I wish more people would tag shovel talk so I could filter that shit out.

It's such a miserable trope, I do not understand why it's so popular.

It's rooted in misogynist bullshit like a dad threatening the boyfriend of his teenage daughter. It got a quirky makeover in Buffy, but that's where it comes from.

It's always out of character, it's always condescending and paternalistic, and it just makes loved ones look like arseholes.

Like, obviously I think about what it would look like irl, and if anyone was like 'if you hurt them I'll hurt you,' even in a jokey tone, I would immediately break up with my person. Like, that's the sort of energy or thinking that their friends and family are bringing? Awful.

In a fictional sense, people keep writing Buck's loved ones threatening Tommy and it's like...you realise how awful the optics on this are, right?

The idea that a man comes out as queer and the first thing his friends and family do is threaten violence against the man he's gotten involved with? It's awful. It doesn't matter that it's jokey.

The concept that a relationship with a man needs to have the threat of harm hanging over it is insane to me

And it's so disrespectful to Buck. His loved ones have so little respect for him that they feel the need to threaten his new romance? Just because he's dating a man?

But yeah. Families and friends threatening to beat up a queer man, destroy his life or whatever other bullshit form the shovel talk takes...it's bad..it feels bad to read.

[sserpente]

A/N. Request by @eleniblue. This turned out a lot darker and more demanding than I anticipated. Best example for “characters do what they want”. Oh well! ;-)

Words: 1356 Warnings: President Loki being President Loki, implied dub-con smut, lots of talk of politics

Loki—no, President Loki—flicked through the pages of your file filled to the brim with several arrests from your countless protests, articles you wrote for non-profit organisations and all of your previous demands and proposals to the White House, all of which had fallen on deaf ears. The United States of America was one sexist country when it came down to it. You clenched your fists. How was it a man got to decide over your body? Where did the notion of men being smarter come from? Because they could pee standing up with a fleshy noodle?

“You have caused quite a stir among my male senators,” he said without looking up. Rude. And what was even ruder was the fact that he was outrageously handsome and charming.

“Oh yeah? Did I make them uncomfortable?” You lifted your chin, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Loki chuckled. “Very much so.”

“Good.”

“So much so, in fact, that they begged me to muzzle you when I first brought you up, did you know?” Finally, the new head of the country met your piercing gaze. “Your file is impressive. You have made quite a name for yourself.” You shivered when he spoke your full name. “I have been looking forward to finally meeting you.”

He made it seem like it had been his idea to meet you and listen to what you had to say and that pissed you off. Arsehole. You scoffed.

“I can’t say the feeling is mutual considering how you came to sit in that chair in the first place, Mr. President.”

But the truth was, you had requested an audience with the God of Mischief. Perhaps it was selfish, insane even… but when everyone’s life got turned upside down and a literal god declared he would now be ruling this realm as its king, part of you had seen the tiniest glimmer of hope. Hope that he, unlike the human presidents, would listen to reason and support the idea of feminism rather than fight it and act all hurt like a lost little puppy.

Loki smiled at you—almost as if he knew something you did not which was probably the case. He was making you nervous, you were not going to deny that. But then again, the whole point of your visit was to convince him of your opinion. For that, you had to be confident. It was surprising enough he had agreed to meet you in the first place.

“Is that so? I must admit, I did expect a little more politeness and respect. You want something from me, do you not?”

You cleared your throat. “Yes. I came here to tell you about me. About us. Hundreds of women have already joined our cause, thousands more online across the country.”

“And what do you want?” he asked as if he already knew.

You sat up straight. “We want equality. We want the same pay for the same work, we want autonomy over our own bodies and we want fairness in all aspects of life. Most importantly though… we want you to end the abortion ban immediately.”

Loki considered your words for a moment. “Well, I will need some more details than that to change the laws in your favour of your… what is you mortals call it? Feminism?”

“You could at least let me explain… wait, what?” You paused, processing his words. Make changes to the law?

“I see here the reasons for your protests and marches are quite legitimate. In fact, it baffles me women appear to have fewer rights in this realm. If they are dependent on men when it comes to reproduction, it does not surprise me you demand your voice and scream it from the rooftops.” Your lips parted. He… agreed? “Your work has been impressive so far. You are a born leader it seems, and you have a way with words.”

With a start, excitement rippled through your entire body. “I… I can help. I have spent months drafting new and adjusted bills…”

Loki lifted his hand, silencing you. “It will take time. The senators are quite terrified of simple equality merely because it would threaten their privileged status.”

“Let them be,” I breathed out.

Loki smirked. “I cannot forgo them all, you see. That would be very unwise of me to do. Most humans are quite narrow-minded but the senators are amenable and I intend to rule this realm your trusted way, whether you like it or not.”

“They already know about all of my proposals and they know what I stand for. How long do you expect us to wait?” Gosh, this was brilliant… this was the furthest you had ever gotten! Had you just called him an arsehole before? You hadn’t meant it, you…

“Let that be my concern. But rest assured it will be done. You will see the results soon. Ambition and persistence such as yours should be rewarded. I admit it was quite bold of you to request a meeting with me.” Your heart skipped a beat. What you didn’t expect was that your pussy would clench at his praise.

“Oh my god… thank you. Thank you! You have no idea how much this means for our progress. We have been fighting for our rights for years. The abortion ban was such a setback and now…”

“Stop,” Loki interrupted you, surprisingly gentle. “We haven’t spoken about what you can offer me in return for my generosity yet.”

Your smile faded.

“Now, now, don’t look so frightened, pet. All I ask for is your support. A lot of people look up to you. You will tell them you support the new president and that you will serve him with pride. Can you do that for me?”

You gnashed your teeth. “I’m not going to lie to anybody.”

“I am not asking you to. I want you to show them the excitement you have shown me just now.” He leaned forward, looking you directly in the eye.

“F-fine.” You were so close. You had nothing to lose at this point.

Loki chuckled. He stood, slowly walking around the massive mahogany desk. You swallowed when he grabbed your chin faster than you were able to react. “Good. Then let us seal the deal, shall we? Kneel.”

“W-what?”

“Kneel before your king. You want my support, you give me your submission, pet. And don’t deny it. I have seen the way you first looked at me when you entered the room. Ah, was that… lust I just saw flickering in those pretty eyes?” Your eyes widened, the atmosphere in the entire room shifting within a fraction of a second. His dominance nearly knocked you backward, his sudden interest in you intimidating and… exciting. Or had he just been hiding it before? Was this why he had agreed to meet you in the first place, you thought, panicking?

“You wish,” you choked out, pressing your legs together in a desperate attempt to hide the effect he had on you… and your body. Because he was right. Something had been wrong with you since the very moment you had walked into the room and you hated yourself for it. You had prayed Loki wouldn’t notice but it seemed the God of Mischief was incredibly perceptive.

“Hmm… I believe my price for your proposal just… increased.”

Your eyes widened. “You… you fucking wouldn’t.”

“And you have quite the mouth on you.”

“That defeats the entire purpose of what you just agreed to help me with!”

“Does it now? Your body begs to differ, pet. But be that as it may…” He forced you to your knees with a start, an invisible force pulling you toward the marble floor. You gasped, looking up at him. “You would do well to remember I am not one of your precious Avengers. Self-righteousness is not my style. You came here with a proposal, pet. And I will give you what you need the way I see fit.”

You swallowed. You had a feeling he wasn’t talking about women’s rights anymore and the worst part was that part of you was enjoying it.

A/N: Check out my blog for more Imagines and my original novel(s)! ♥

[batsplat]

We were a good team. And we had a lot of fun in that 1996 season. Or rather, I had a lot of fun. That was me at my craziest. I really was an absolute pest. I had no respect for anyone on the track. To me they were all the same, it made no difference if it was a veteran vying for the title, or a debutant like me. I just wanted to go fast, very fast, and if I saw an opening, I went for it. I wanted to overtake everyone, come what may. In other words, I made people uncomfortable. I was fast, but I made mistakes. Too many times I threw away decent positions. I think I must have fallen fifteen or so times that season. In the very first race, I got into an argument with Jorge Martinez. We were at Shah Alam in Malaysia. I was making my debut and had secured a spot in the third row. I started very well and I'm not sure how, but I somehow found myself alongside the leaders early on. I was cruising along somewhere between seventh and eighth position. At one point, Dirk Raudies was in front of me and Martinez just behind me. Raudies' engine seized up, and, to avoid him, I instinctively braked, changing trajectory. Martinez was unable to avoid me, hit me, and fell. That was the year in which Martinez, riding the "official" Aprilia, was heavily favoured in the race for the title. I had just upset one of the darlings, one of the "untouchables" of the world championship. I finished the race in sixth place and was quite pleased. In fact, everyone around me was pleased, we were all celebrating. Then, suddenly, I came face to face with Martinez and Angel Nieto. "Son of a bitch!" they shouted. "We're going to tear you a new arsehole!" That's when I realised they probably did not like me very much. So I slipped behind the mechanic, who was a big guy, using him as a shield. The two Spaniards were rabid, they looked as if they wanted to beat me up, so the big mechanic did come in very handy, as a deterrent. But I soon started enjoying the scene, rather than being frightened. The pair of them were absolutely furious, but they also looked so funny, in the way that only short people can look funny when they get really angry. And both of them were tiny, unintimidating in every way. I was not really worried at all.

Valentino Rossi in his 2005 autobiography, What if I had never tried it

he went on to beat jorge martinez for his first ever race win - from the rec list:

[amuseoffyre]

ngl, I love that Stede goes from "You complete arsehole" to "but you've got a head and you should look after it" with Izzy after the double-whammy of Izzy's revelations of how bad things had been and his plea to help him protect the crew.

And likewise, Izzy going from "you prancing prat" to "I just wanted to thank you" when Stede could have had a quick and easy vengeance and let them all die, but he listened to Izzy and understood why they had been forced to kill Ed and saved them anyway.

This isn't out of nowhere either. In 1x04, Izzy had snapped about the loss of life of crew members and Ed had replied "that's their job, they're pirates". Stede's first reaction when he woke from fever-coma was to seek out his crew out of fear they'd been harmed.

Both of them can respect someone who risks their own life and protects their crew, even if they don't necessarily like each other.

(And yup, still salty we don't have the Co-Captains and their First Mate, but I remain deeply, deeply sus about the fact they kept him with them >.> )

[monstersandmaw]

Male vampire x female character (Țepeș x Adriane - Full Moon Motorcycles) - Chapter One (sfw)

Hello all! While I'm finishing up this month's Patreon exclusive for you (m. dragonborn!), here's nearly 7k words of what was supposed to be the first in the Full Moon Motorcycle 'universe'. It's set before Demon's, Oats', and Pumpkin's stories!

I hope you come to love Țepeș as much as I have! He's got an interesting backstory, and although he looks intimidating, he's actually a huge softie under all that muscle and height. If you know Demon from his story, you get to see a different side of him in this, and you'll see why he was so keen not to introduce his human love interest to the gang after this (shitty) behaviour...

This is going to be up on Patreon on early release, but I'm keeping Demon's story back until it's finished so it doesn't spoil things, so keep that in mind if you leave a comment please :)

Content: plus size female character (unaware of the supernatural) is given a helping hand by the owner of a motorcycle shop, and returns later in the day to thank him, only to find half of the Full Moon Motorcycle bikers standing outside the shop that evening and goofing around. When she's offered a ride home, the tall, darkly-clad, silent biker nicknamed Țepeș volunteers to take her on his massive, black Ducati Streetfighter V4...

Wordcount: 6809

Extract:

A dark, scuff-sided delivery moped — unsurprisingly missing its left mirror — clipped her elbow as it sped down the side street, spewing a cloud of nasty petrol fumes strong enough to make her cough. As she cradled her arm against her chest to rub at her elbow, Adriane’s heavy, cotton bag jolted down off her shoulder to catch painfully in the crook of her arm, and she cursed elaborately.

“Watch where you’re going, arsehole!” she yelling after the moped a second later, but they were long gone.

To add insult to injury, she snagged her boot heel on a crack in the pavement and tripped backwards to land hard enough on her ass that all the breath left her body in an inelegant grunt, and she was lucky she didn’t bite her tongue off when her jaw clacked shut under the force of the landing. The straining seams of her ancient and over-full tote bag finally ruptured on impact, and loose sheafs of paper fluttered up and away like white doves into the blustery autumn air.

“Shitting fuck!” she shouted and scrabbled to catch the remaining ones. If all of those pages got away, she’d have nothing to show at the interview — for which she was now probably going to be late — and there was no way they’d take her seriously without some kind of portfolio. And boy did she need this job.

“You ok there?” a rough, bass voice asked from right behind her. “Here, lemme help you.”

“My stuff,” Adriane choked out around a sob without turning around. “Shit…” Tears of raw frustration, tinged with exhaustion, filled her eyes and she bowed her head, willing herself not to burst into tears on the sidewalk outside some gritty-looking motorcycle shop in the back street of this new and relatively unfamiliar town.

“Here, come on. Let’s get you up.”

“What’s the fucking point?” she groaned, but she did get her legs under her and let the stranger help her to her feet with a kindly hand at her elbow. He released her and stepped back, and she smoothed the floaty, floral-printed, chiffon skirt down over her curvy thighs and tugged irritably at the hem of her cropped denim jacket before looking up at her rescuer for the first time.

She found an older man moving away to a respectful distance now that she was upright, and she regarded him a little warily. He wasn’t particularly tall or threatening though, with his wavy, salt and pepper hair falling scruffily around his ears and just brushing the collar of his blue-and-white-checked shirt. He had a short, grey beard, kind, smiling brown eyes and a significant barrel-belly. He also looked like maybe the kind of guy who rode a Harley and took no nonsense when pushed, but he seemed harmless enough as he steadied her and then stepped back another pace.

Adriane looked along the street and saw that one of the pages of her portfolio had landed face-down in a puddle, and the rest were lost to the wind. “Fuck,” she said again. She was forced to clutch the torn remnants of her bag to her chest to keep its remaining contents together, which felt like a metaphor if ever she’d known one.

“What’s wrong?” the man asked, raising his head slightly and breathing in as if he’d caught the scent of a familiar perfume. As he did, his hazel brown eyes caught the light oddly and seemed to flash amber. “You hurt yourself?”

“I’m good,” she said automatically, then added with a gesture at the soggy pages, “That was my portfolio though. I just got it printed this morning, and I don’t have the time or the money to get it printed again. My interview starts in —” she glanced at the old, analogue wristwatch on her left wrist. Only now, after the fall, it was cracked. Well, at least it wasn’t some fancy smartwatch. None of those for her with her bank account idling somewhere in the low double figures. “— twenty-eight minutes.”

“How fancy are we talking?” he asked and she frowned, confused. The man jabbed his thumb over his shoulder and explained. “I’ve got a fairly decent printer in the shop for flyers and stuff. If you’ve got a thumb drive with the files on, you can print it off here.”

She blinked. Miracle of miracles, she did actually have the USB drive in her jacket pocket. “You serious? I can’t pay you.”

“I didn’t ask you to,” he said with a hearty smile. “C’mon. Time’s wasting and you ain’t got long.”

Adriane bit her lip, moved by the kindness of this complete stranger, and followed him into the bike shop.

Read the whole thing right now over on Patreon, and consider joining the Little Ghosties tier for access to this month's Patreon exclusive story, as well as my entire back catalogue of Patreon exclusive content.