#i am esl so sorry for grammar

[plasticfangtastic]

American Royalty. Ch. 6

A Homelander x F!Reader and Dadlander fanfic

A/N: sorry for the wait lads, sadly I've had to put my other fic on hiatus (bcuz am overwhelmed irl from work and writing) but bcuz of that I'll be able to post this with more frequency. If you're interested in being in the taglist plz drop a comment with a request! Thanks to everybody who reads this work, you guys are awesome! also my masterlist doesn't have anymore space so I'll be making a list for this series soon, here's the previous chapter:

Tags: mild gore, angst, slow burn, fluff, oc characther, child neglect, dadlander, romance, toxic relationship.

Chapter Six

Loaded weapon.

Heavy puddles splashed all accross the floor under hundreds of steps, people panicked and yelled in fear as water burst in violent streams and the foundation of the wall eager to crumble. The dog had lost its professional cool barking madly as his owner tried to leave fast enough. Water pushing people and bodies crashing against the ground, Homelander was the first to notice the strain on her face as she tried to contain another sneeze, he looked at the mutt.

“GET THAT FUCKING RAT AWAY FROM HERE!!” He screamed, his eyes a bright red as he puffed his chest, the woman panicked picking her dog in a single swoop rushing out, splashing loudy and crying.

Behind him Helena held the flood, her arms held before her, creating a thick translucennt blue lit wall separating the thousands of gallons and the room, her body pushed back but she kept pushing forward, glass, debris and fish floating in front of her, the wall rippling around individual points, her face ready to sneeze, she was hurting, growing hot and red.

“Stop that! I'll get you out of here! Ryan!” He looks around trying to find his son in the diminishing crowd.

“The fishies!! I won’t kill the fishies!!” She cried.

“Fuck!” He cursed deciding between picking her by force and letting the chaos worsen or allowing her to continue– Y/N get Ryan, I’ll evacuate these people… can’t fucking believe I have to call Deep!!” He looked at Helena then back at you as you ran fidgeting with your bag– can… can she?”

You ignored him, splashing past him with a prescription blister.

“Is okay Helena, baby… open your mouth.”

She swallowed dried.

“She can hold it! Now do your hero shit!” You shouted at him.

The police and Vought came down, your schedule had been overridden and made irrelevant but you were glad both kids were okay, you both stayed there until the aquarium’s staff and the Deep had taken care of the fish as Helena refused to let the surviving fishes get injured, Homelander had been left in awe watching her eyes blinked a dozen shades of blue as she built stairs out of her own psionic wall for the rescuers to work with ease, getting an idea of how her powers functioned.

Smaller fishes and debri floated under the stairs, she adjusted the height of the wall to let people in, modifying for every request the teams had, as specialist vacuums pumped the water out, the outside was so loud with news vans, police and fire department doing their work, but she never broke concentration.

He had forced Deep to reassure her that the fishes were okay and weren’t angry at her, and Kevin wasn’t stupid enough to question anything about what was happening, he looked at the little girl and talked to her, turning to his freshwater friends to exchanged messages as the girl was filled with guilt and remorse, trying not to cry as to not lose her concentration.

Homelander felt prideful as he watched her work, until the moon was out and she could finally rest.

She passed out the moment the wall came down, after most of the water had been drained, she dropped instantly– Homelander caught her, his sight softening as he lifted her closely.

Ryan watched him with confusion as he carried this stranger in one arm so carefully, tucking her head into the crook of his neck, letting his chin drop against her head, to catch a whiff of her coconut shampoo.

“Is she alright?” Ryan asked, pushing her draping arm towards her stomach.

“I don’t know.” He looked at you, not wanting to hand her back– care to explain.”

“She must’ve turned off her radar… Helena is severely allergic to dogs. She can sneeze no problem” You lifted her sleeves not caring about how close you were to Homelander, her arm was covered in old darkened spots, from years of scratching, fresh hives and red streaks had settled even with the medication– but she can’t be around dogs… thank god she didn’t have an asthma attack.”

You stroke her hair checking for hives, around her neck.

“That’s why I couldn’t stay at friends for long…” You took her from him, he tried not to protest as you tore him apart– her babysitter had a mini poodle… and that was fine even if it gave her hives from time to time… she was getting better… it's my fault I didn’t check if she took her meds today.”

Homelander absorbed the information.

Some fish died and hundreds of thousands of dollars in damages had been incurred but Vought would covered it all, his only nuisance was Ashley that had come down to the scene, she tucked her chin down as she approached him wearily, she had never expected to get such a call from Homelander earlier in the day, making her panic that this had been serious and maybe news worthy.

Seeing him in human clothes was a first, he didn’t look any more approachable than before, Homelander looked at her with annoyance demanding her to ‘spit it out already’ without words.

“Everything is under control as you asked! The aquarium holds no ill-will, and Deep has reassured me… multiple times.” She signed– minimal fish lives were lost and all the fish are not holding any grudges. There’s just one probl—

“What!!?” he yelled.

“The kid!” she jumped trying to hide behind thin air– We… for insurance purposes we need her information.”

Ashley gave you and Homelander a second look, looking at his display of stealth wealth, at Ryan and the ketchup stain on his collar, at your tired look, how severely underdressed compared to him yet still trying to look stylish in your turtleneck, skinny jeans and indoor sneakers then finally at the little girl whom he had made such strange demands for, that her mouth made an ‘O’ shape. 

This was a date.

A date she was interrupting.

“You know what, sir. I’ll handle it all… you can just go and escort these civilians, we can talk about the details tomorrow when everything has calmed down.” She said knowing that a migraine was incoming– is that okay?”

She looked at you instead, trying to decipher who you were.

“I work for Homelander. Am one of his personal cooks… all my contact information– you blurted.

You looked down holding Helena tightly.

“Is okay darling! Just swing by when you come back from work and we can do all the ugly paperwork then. Is that okay?” If she squinted any harder she might go blind as she interrupted you, she smiled stroking your shoulder– just make sure this little bundle is feeling better in the morning. You know where my office is?” 

“Yes, Ms. Barrett… I don’t have to go to HR? or CM?” Your cheeks reddened, yet feeling somewhat relieved.

She gives Homelander a nervous look then back at you with plastic confidence.

“Is fine! We deal with so many little kids… lots of parents have gone thru the same thing.”

“I broke Ashley’s door the other week,” said Ryan nervously.

She nodded with half closed eyes, already stroking the kid’s hair to reassure him it was fine.

“Go get some rest, will you– am just gonna go over there and see what the Deep’s doing”

She could really speed up in those heels, not wanting to persue this any further just glad everything seemed fine.

You expected to part from him at this point, but he escorted you back to your car. His excuse was to keep the reporter or police from harassing you. The long walk was filled with awkward silence, interrupted by Ryan here and there who realized that he could never quite get that dog, if Helena was around.

The kid wasn’t stupid, he had catched his father kissing you earlier, nervous to ask the little girl if she knew what was taking place behind them, and even if he hadn’t he could see in the way he looked at you– that there was something different about you, and in the way he clung to her that made a knot in his throat grow bigger.

Ashley stared at her computer screen as other members of Crisis Management delivered the news, Analytics had removed the videos but they were still circulating, Homelander couldn’t catch a break as he sat in Ashley’s couch looking at the scene, some chump had been recording his trip when it all took place, the accidental power release and Homelander’s violent outburst. It was all too fresh since the sham trial, even if he had left the courtroom with clean hands, there were people waiting for bones to tear him apart, especially when nobody understood why he had lost his cool and nearly lasered down an emotional support dog.

“She’s severely allergic… takes arbinoxa and clarinex for it, even gets asthma on the worse times.” He rested his eyes under his glove, he had skipped sleep and gotten her medical files instead– she couldn’t control her powers– fuck I might need to get her immunotheraphy…” He mumbled.

Homelander had spent the night researching how to help her, reading countless websites and pestering the lab rats downstairs for information. He could in theory provide Helena with help but her skin proved problematic.

“Y’all get the fuck out I need to speak to this idiot!” He hit his arm rest.

The team left without question, Ashley crying after them internally as she foound herself in the same room with a predator.

“Everything okay? The videos we can–

“Tell the media that it was a fucking allergic reaction, keep her ‘anonymous’ understand!! I don’t want anybody knowing who the fuck she is” He snapped– It was an accident!”

He stood up heading straight for her shiny new desk.

“... Helena L/N is my daughter. You know our little issue downstairs in the writer’s room?” She nodded absentmindedly trying to process his revelation– I want her mother to pretend to be Ryan’s… they are both siblings so it's an easy sell.”

“She looks nothing like you.” Ashley’s voice was so low it was barely a peep.

“She’s mine… I triple checked… we can just say genetics are weird– god I already had this conversation! I just need to smooth some things here and there, but she cannot get in trouble! Not my daughter!-- and if the people wanna guess why I reacted like that… well tell them that that fucking mutt being there could’ve hurt people! There were tanks all around us...” Homelander sat across from her, his whole body exhausted a rare sight admittedly, somethign that intrigued Ashley– give that to the team but keep it on a waterproof seal, capiche?”

Ashley bit her lips nervously as she began to process his revelations, this was the odd 2nd penny she received from Homelander, already wondering if this promiscuous bastard had more children spread around, she made a mental note to double check any surviving laids to make sure Vought wouldn’t be hit with an embarrassing child support suit out of the blue. 

“And the mom…?” She looked at her notes– Y/N is she going to be a problem?”

“Look at you all serious.” Her sober expression gained some color, she might now sit higher on the ladder but he was still top dog, maybe it was the brand new plaque on her door or the view on 82 giving her attitude but she was no Edgar or Stillwell– careful with that tone.”

Ryan was a sweet boy, she had grown fond of him, the boy was as if all of his father’s humanity had been spat out and condensed into one innocent child, she had grown to like being called ‘miss Ashley’ and ‘auntie’– she was also aware that the kid had kept her alive on the occasion without noticing… so all those good things came with a price and that was that Homelander now had nothing left to give to mortals like her. She stiffen her back as her skin grew blotchy.

“I’ll have a team do a background check just to be cautious… I’m sure she’ll be a team player.” She forces a confident expression– she looks perfect for the role.”

He got up with a grin.

You headed downstairs to pick up your kid, as Ashley had promised nothing big had come out of it, you were given a business card and a registration application package-- you had missed a lot of paperwork by skirting on the edge of their radars, it seems. You walked mindlessly, your back aching and your feet sore, you couldn’t wait to get takeout and have some mocktails with your kid, when you were spotted.

A man you had never seen before pulled your shoulder gently, he had the nicest shoes you ever seen, you looked at his clothes and it was all sharp and smart casual and probably expensive.

“Hi. You must be Helena’s mom, right?” he asked far too casually to not feel threatening– I'm Nigel, Elmo’s dad.”

You turned pale.

“Nice to meet you… I’m Y/N… our kids are friends!" Your voice slightly shaky-- Sorry I didn’t introduce myself earlier!” You stretched your hand, forcing the best customer service voice you could muster– how may I help you?”

“Well… my little prince is finally showing interest in being a supe and he drew this yesterday” He took a folded drawing from his jacket– It seems our kids are making big plans together. I work in hero management so if this is something you’re interested in, give me a call.”

He wasn’t actually pleased, he sounded as if Helena had thwarted some grand vision– at least this wasn’t about your kids' numerous crimes together, with yours as the mastermind.

You took the page seeing a crude drawing of a little asian boy and what you assumed was Helena, their names drawn in crayon “Phantasma and Poltergeist” wearing matching black, white and red suits, your daughter in a mostly black-red suit with red gloves and boots and him in the white-red suit with black gloves and boots. It was crude but you could see the vision.

“We had some names but… it's catchy” He said mildly annoyed– your daughter is very cute, they could make a great tag-team, there is actually not that much competition at the moment.”

“I’ll talk to her and see what she wants but I can take your business card… I actually don’t have a caseworker for Helena, we weren’t really going to pursue this but she seems to be warming up to the idea.”

“Your husband wasn’t down for it?”  He seemed to want to coax information out of you.

“I am single… it's complicated.” He cringed but joined you as you walked towards the daycare entrance– Is it expensive to make a suit?”

He spoke to you of the basics, of the initial investment costs, and the importance of design and branding, he was over the moon that Elmo understood color theory. He told you about how he and his husband Sven adopted Elmo from Korea when he was five months old and you told him how you been a single mom since the start. You both shared bite-sized throwaway stories of dealing with kids with powers and all the broken stuff one had to clean up over the years.

The usually manic carer looked at you with horror as she spoke with two security officers with tears in her eyes, as you opened the doors.

“What did she do now?” You said already drained, already preparing yourself for asking Homelander to help you keep her in OSCH.

“Are you Mr. Cripple and Ms. L/N?” Asked the security officer– "you need to come with us.”

You both panicked but the people gave you no answers, as you were forcible escourted to an area that only Nigel seemed to be familiar with, the thick cement walls of the lower floors made you more than uneasy, even the air tasted stale, both of your kids had been locked in 42D, had those guns not been loaded you would’ve made a scene.

A man neither of you had met before, awaited you in a separate room– A prison cell with a unwelcoming little set-up.

The man looked up from his files offering you both to sit, obeying purely out of fear without protest or sound.

“Ms. L/N how much do you think a vial of compound V cost?” he asked with a menacing tone.

You looked at Nigel who had no reply.

“Did my daughter do something…?” 

“She did something indeed” The man in his serious black clothes who was probably one of the heads of security played you both normal and thermal camera CCTV footage, they didn’t look to be in the room at first until the filter was on, she kept to the corner and only moved to touch stuff after making them invisible.

You could see Helena scribbling on a notepad while fidgeting with the hi-tech equipment in the meantime Elmo sat keeping eye out or just bored out of his mind, exploiting his powers to go in and out at random hours during her care times, the footage compilations of at least one week’s worth of this nonsense.  

The scene culminating with her taking a whole dozen bottles.

“You think my daughter is selling V in the playground!?” You shouted.

“My son has nothing to do with that miscreant!”

“I will have to agree. I doubt he knows what’s happening” You squeezed your fist– I understand she’s done something wrong, but did you just put my seven year old and her friend in jail!?”

“Your daughter is a super. We are just taking the necessary precautions.” He defended his actions.

“My daughter could break out of that cell and she choses not to… you are overreacting!” Your nails dig into your skin, your legs jittery.

“I would argue that makes her more dangerous…” The man looked serious– We are waiting for some people from legal–

The door was ripped apart from its hinges, scrunched and folded, as he tried to speak.

You jumped under the table.

Homelander stood in the wreckage, concrete dust covering his hair and like thunder in a storm his eyes glowed violently like lighting, he lifted his hand and demanded the man’s attention with a wag of his finger, the man stumbled out of his seat as you and Nigel cowered inside.

There was no screaming, just an unbearable silence and faraway steps approaching-- then the sound of a skipping pebble echoing across the hall.

“Congratulations on the promotion, wank stain” Homelander spoke to one of the men that had come– you better pray that my Helena doesn’t have a single scratch.” He growled quite literally growled.

You emerged from beneath, taking meek weary steps towards the exit.

You were on the other side of those eyes, your chest palpitating, your skin tight, it felt as if you could be suffocating on clean air.

As you saw the rage in his face, a part of you that had been left abandoned clench, to see him irate on your behalf, for him to have hurt somebody for your child, it made you blush.

Just how fucked up were you? You shouldn’t find him handsome as he licked a callous splatter of blood off his lip.

But there he was looking at you with those piercing eyes, that you remembered he never was anything but a beautiful and untouchable beast you once tamed.

taglist-- @immyowndefender @fromforeigntofamiliarity @demodemo909

[laikabu]

re: my thoughts on laios’s sexuality (long post ahead lol)

let me start this post with this. first, this contains a lot of references to the new adventurer’s bible world guide book released last february. i can read japanese, but i’m sure they’re translated somewhere. general spoiler warning in case. also… i am ESL, so sorry for any grammar errors

second, if you’re on the team that insists laios doesn’t care about humans enough to form relationships, either read the manga again or at the very least read this thread.

last, please don’t chime in with your acearo headcanons on this post. there’s already a majority of posts here that insist laios is acearo and that anything else is impossible. i don’t like it the same way i don’t like when someone declares they hc marcille as bisexual to a poster who reads her as lesbian. i already have enough people here who declare he’s ace on my own art. at least people on twitter of all places don’t do this sort of thing to me. nothing in this manga is canon, you can headcanon anything i won’t get mad if you hc him as bi or something. just. don’t be weird on my post.

okay. trust me, i love women, and i love the idea of making my favs women lovers but the idea of laios being gay really appeals to me because of his background. this isn’t fueled by yaoi since i don’t even ship the only m/m relationship i bring up here, i just think it adds a nice layer to his disconnect with his own humanity

i do think laios has a very abstract relationship with his sexuality for a multitude of reasons. he grew up in a very conservative backwater village. he has a hard time recognizing his own feelings towards others just as much as vice versa. i don’t really care for the “laios is a monsterfucker” agenda people are pushing but i do think he’d engage in sexual thoughts in his own weird way, i won’t deny his deviantart fetish shit

as an autistic person myself, i relate to how he’d prioritize his special interest over social interactions. after all, he was fixated on monster food so he’s distracted from dark thoughts. he’s not an actual glutton

he’s shy around women, but i don’t think it’s out of attraction. i just think it’s because he’s awkward and doesn’t want to be seen as a threat. there’s a couple of times when, out of armor, he deliberately tries to make himself look smaller and nonthreatening.

he didn’t show any interest towards ashivia (the hubby hunter girl marcille replaced) and just humored her because she wouldn’t leave him alone. his other party members thought he was giving her special treatment so he had to tell her he “doesnt want to give her special treatment anymore”(even though he never did), so she left

ashivia did her best to butter herself up to laios and he didn’t care, but laios thought shuro was his bestest friend in the whole world because he was too much of a pushover to reject him. ironically… what ashivia did to him parallels what he was doing to shuro

also… yeah sorry i keep bringing up that one comic of laios saying if he were falin he’d marry shuro and then begging him to take him back to his country, or that comic of laios wondering why he doesn’t like him(and then the first two questions he asks the magic mirror was what if he or shuro were women). i don’t even ship them! but it’s not a reach to assume that he likes men because of this, even if it’s kinda played like a joke(after all,a lot of people like chilshi even though their ‘shippy’ interaction was played as a joke)

of course, given the setting, i don’t think knows he’s gay, he wouldn’t have the vocabulary to label himself. i do want to dance around with the idea of him forcibly confronting his own sexuality after years of yaad pressuring him to produce heirs lol. laios might not be cishet but he’s a king so he rdgaf about that right now. i’m open to him having female consorts for political reasons, but i don’t think he’s into women, is all.

before anyone brings up his succubus… god forbid an author makes hetbait. a part of the plot twist was that not-marcille wasn’t the only succubus enticing laios, his other party members were copied too. she was the only one who approached him. also… succubi aren’t always inherently romantic. once it realized marcille didn’t work, it switched to appeal to his desire to be a monster.

[roleplayerconfessions]

🌴 I recently took over a partner search forum for advanced literate roleplayers, because the old mods were inactive for a very long time and literally nothing was being moderated. Naturally, before I arrived, there were a lot of people who were taking advantage of the lack of moderation, and posting ads that were FULL of typos and terrible grammar conventions, and posts that didn't even qualify as semi-literate.

Once everything was set up, I started removing ads that were illiterate, because naturally, this was a forum for advanced literate roleplayers. Lots of advanced literate roleplayers were happy about this, because they previously had trouble finding partners among all the illiterate posts (and they couldn't go anywhere else, because no other forums curated their posts for advanced literate roleplayers).

And of course, the semi-literate roleplayers screamed bloody murder about this. One notable message was: "what the hell mind telling me why youre suddenly deleting my ads ? My ad wa always allowed before, why are you being dicks suddenly".

And another message: "The post was removed 2 minutes after it's post? What's worng with it? I can't spot any mistake in the first lines sorry". Their entire post was filled with spaces before punctuation, misspelled words, uncapitalized "i"s and uncapitalized words at the beginning of sentences (not a stylistic choice, it was inconsistent), and sentences that sounded like broken English. (Even if they were ESL, the end result still wasn't advanced literate by a long, long stretch.) When I told them the post was not in line with how the forum defined "advanced literate", and when I even spent five minutes circling all the errors to help them out, they came back all pissy and saying the errors were not worth removing the post for (I circled over twenty things), and they started arguing with me and saying I was ruining the forum.

Come on. First off, what's the name of this forum? And second, do you not see the big, "hi, I'm the new moderator, I am taking over for the inactive mods" announcement at the very top, which is impossible to miss? Or the new rules page at the very top, which is also impossible to miss? And, each of your posts have gotten an automatic reply mentioning how you should read the new rules, and how the forum is being run true to its name now. You were given more than enough information, and more than enough indication your posts wouldn't be allowed. If someone had been around to moderate last year, they would have taken them down too. Don't take out your butthurt entitlement on me, you clearly aren't even close to how the forum defines AL. You were just taking advantage of the forum's lack of moderation before when there was literally nobody around to sift through posts. You have OODLES of other forums to find partners, and I can see you're a user on them already. All you do is copy and paste your ads on every waking forum you can find, whether you actually fit the roleplaying type or not, and sorry, but that is not gonna work here.

...Sheeeeesh.

I do my best to be sensitive and polite about this crap. I understand that writing is a deeply personal thing, and a lot of people feel offended when their writing is declined on a forum, and I know how to be tactful there. If I didn't care, I would just ban them right away, and not give them any way to contact the moderators, certainly not proofread their ads like I'm a teacher when they ask me for specifics. So what the frick? Maybe this is why the old moderators left. I almost don't blame them. Some people are spoiled, entitled brats.

[meichenxi]

Hi!! I'm a college student about to graduate and my dream is to teach English in China and I was wondering if you could somehow help me and give me some advice. I have been studying Chinese during my years at university (and I love your blog!), along with my physics degree. I don't know if any of this is relevant but my level of Mandarin is not very high (HSK3), I study in the UK and I'm planning to get a TEFL 120 hour certification in June. Is this a solid plan? Love your blog, Isa

Hiii! Sorry it took me so long to get to this, I have my final exams at the moment and am on semi-hiatus. First, what an amazing dream!! You'll have a wonderful time :D

SO in general having a degree not in English language and a TEFL certificate is most definitely enough to secure you a job, but at the moment it is a rather 'special period', as every job advert says, and so finding a job is a little trickier because of visa problems.

Basically, there are no work or study visas available at the moment for people from the UK. The only people who can get into China are those who the Chinese Embassy deems 'foreign experts' and therefore 'crucial to China's progress', and your company or school will have to provide something called a PU letter. This grants you the ability to actually apply for the work visa, though itself doesn't grant it. At the moment there aren't that many companies available who can offer that.

Because of this, I'd recommend going through a recruitment company. I do not necessarily mean a graduate scheme (the ones advertised as such are not very well paid and you don't have much control over where you go), but a recruitment company. You can find these on any general site if you google 'ESL jobs China'.

In terms of actual jobs - generally speaking there are three categories, private language schools, state schools, and international schools. International schools are by far the best in terms of packages, but they rarely take graduates without 3 years of teaching experience. The good news is that if you do find somebody who is looking for recent grads (if you go to a particularly prestigious university like Oxbridge, for instance), you might be able to teach Physics or Science rather than English language. International schools will also be the easiest to deal with in terms of communication and visa applications, but the competition is quite stiff, and most people who apply will be teachers in their home countries already.

State schools are another good option if you want 'normal' teaching hours, good holidays, and older children. The position I have next year is in a good state school that has two programs, the Canadian curriculum and the GaoKao (the Chinese university entrance exam). The main disadvantage is that you may be the only foreigner in the school, and communication might be difficult. I don't just mean with Chinese but in general: you will be not told things, you will be excluded, you will turn up to your class and find someone else teaching it and be told just to go back to your office. If you can be flexible and have an open mind, state schools are great, but they may be quite exhausting especially if this is your first time in China. You will also have to teach to exams, and the curriculum might be tight. For me personally though, I would much rather teach in a state school than the next option -

Which is private language schools. These are very good - sometimes. This is the main problem: the quality of the schools, the teaching, and the ethos all vary from school to school. You may be teaching very young children, and you may be teaching exclusively in the evening. The schools may be very supportive of creativity in the classroom, or you may be literally forced to teach the flashcards they give you. The plus about these schools is that they often have competitive relocation packages, are not too bothered about how experienced (or not) you are, and that there will be a community of other English speaking colleagues (natives and not) to help you integrate.

The reason I add this is that it's so, so important. It's very laudable and easy to wish for immersion and want to make Chinese friends - and you should!! - but living in another country without easy access to internet you are used to can be exhausting at times and even the staunchest believer in immersion is going to be stressed and tired and teary far from home. Having colleagues who want to improve their English can also be a good basis for a (somewhat awkward at first) friendship.

Some general tips: brush up on your English grammar. Seriously. Because the amount of teachers who have no idea and bluff their way through it is shocking and disrespects those who try very hard to make it a proper profession. Also having students ask you when you use the present perfect continuous and the present perfect simple and not knowing the answer is a very special kind of pain!! I'd recommend bringing a reputable grammar book with you, and using it when making your lesson plans.

Re Chinese: if you already have a little, your Chinese will improve so much when you're there!! Don't stress about it because China is a wonderful environment for learning - it's literally perfect, few people speak English and EVERYBODY wants to speak to you as many people are direct and very curious - but at the same time, the more you can learn, the easier it will be. Don't neglect your characters!! Learning useful menu characters and signs will be hugely helpful too. You won't need Chinese in your job really, but you definitely will in your daily life, so well done for learning and keep at it!!

The other thing I would say is: sort out your music and your social media and your banking before going to China. This includes a good VPN. You can't download apps on the google App Store, and to make the transition to the Chinese internet easier, I'd recommend getting a Weibo account, any music app, Baidu translate and maps and so on, and accustoming yourself to that before going.

Re where you are going and the package: you should have your flight paid, help with your visa, and transparency about quarantine procedures. You should also have accommodation or an accommodation allowance of between 2000-5000 (2000 is more than fine). Public or international schools may pay for your food during school-time as well. Re cities: prioritise what is important to you. If you want to save, bear in mind that China is extraordinarily cheap and that even in places like Shanghai, you can still save a lot if you live somewhat sensibly. To give you some context: I lived in Tianjin, a second-tier city, and I got 'pocket money' of 2000 every month (with accommodation and food paid), and I managed to save enough to do martial arts for a month at an academy after 5 months. And I was living well - going out about twice a week, taking taxis, eating out almost every evening (cheap food). So don't prioritise one position over another solely because of money, and also bear in mind kindergarten teachers may only be getting about 2000-3000 a month - so regardless of whether you earn 10,000 or 15,000, it's a) SIGNIFICANTLY enough to live very well and save very well too, and b) considerably more than many of your coworkers will be earning.

Also, different cities have different costs of living: 10,000 somewhere like Hangzhou will go considerably further than 16,000 in Shanghai. Another thing to bear in mind is the air quality, and the environment, and the access to green spaces. DO NOT UNDERESTIMATE THIS. If this is important to you, go somewhere smaller or in the south with access to nature - I nearly went crazy living in such a big city with such poor air quality. The positions I had to choose between were one in Shanghai, better paid and at a better school, and a position in Zhuhai in a campus in the mountains, in a third-tier city by the sea. I know now how important green is to me, how much I prefer a more relaxed pace of life, and so I chose the latter.

Lastly, don't be intimidating and don't be afraid to ask questions about your job. Make sure that everything they say is in the contract, in both the English version and the Chinese version. This is important because only the Chinese version is legal, so if you have a friend, get them to check that the same stuff is in each bit of the contract. Communication might be difficult, but don't be afraid to be direct and press for answers, don't just accept what you're told. You might be messed around with a bit, so it's important to 'shop around' for positions - don't feel bad if you do so, and don't be afraid to turn things down that don't suit. Finally, don't feel terrified if you can't find information about a school online - a lot of stuff isn't on Google, and will also be better accessed via WeChat or mini programs. Not finding information about your school or city does not mean it doesn't exist!!

So be prepared for a wild ride - and enjoy! If you have any more questions about any of this, please feel free to ask at any time!

meichenxi out :P

[scoups4lyfe]

Hello I am translation anon(which is kinda of funny since i didn't translated anything but thanks for the nickname) and I had a small theory(i think you can call that?) where Tamaki(or maybe Aguillera in future episodes) started working at the bathhouse and end up enjoying working there. So in the end of the series Tamaki or Aguillera were to take care of the bathhouse(not necessarily inheriting just taking care for the igarashi parents) while Ikki would be able to take care of himself and follow his dream of playing soccer. (sorry for the bad grammar and the confusing post you don't need to answer and my english is pretty bad).

YOOO???

AYEEE????

Aguilera and Tamaki bath house babysitters so Ikki can live his life..... aiiiiiaiiaiaiaiii

I'd loooove that bro,, but also my, G

Ikki has such a long way to go before he'd be able to accept that :'))

My guy really tied all of his self-worth to how well he can take care of his family ,,,,,:'0

So if they took over and everyone was like 'Okay, bYEEE' I think he'd have a mental breakdown. (At least where he's at currently) I know I put this in my analysis posts starting HERE ; but since Ikki's a 'parentified child' he's learned to suppress his own identity in order to be the main pillar of support for his family, all the while thinking

"maybe if I silence myself, maybe if I put myself last, they'll notice all of me and love me as I am"

but that never happened (hoochow) and since Ikki's role in the family (Filling in for the absentee-father spot; yeah the dad isn't 'absent' but no one really puts him in the 'father position'....lol)

So Ikki as of rn would have a high likelihood (if he wasn't needed at the bathhouse anymore lol) to see this as abandonment -- and I would not doubt in my mind that the next place he'd search for companionship, comfort, 'home' would probably be a toxic relationship where he's back in his caregiving role :')))

and WHATTT???? bruhhh your english is fine, yo

ngl wouldn't have even known you weren't a native speaker until I read your last sentence about it being a confusing post hahahaha. I didn't see anything weird or wrong grammar wise? But also its like 4am and I'm like -7 braincells rn so idk english all blurs together after a certain point

(forgive any spelling errors or sentences that don't make a LICK of sense. my sleep-drived mind literally doesn't see sh#t and I don't proofread lmaOOO)

BUT ALSOOOOOO---

Dawg, english fluency (imo) is a myth. Americans (idk about the other English speaking homies lol) can literally say whatever they want no matter how grammatically incorrect or nonsensical--

but if its said with the confidence of a King, ppl are just like 'yeah, that tracks'

I kno cause I type nonsense every day. I also speak nonsense. And honestly its a miracle anyone understands me lmaooo. Kinda like how with French (not that I'm fluent in French in anything <33)

I forgot how to say "what" (lmao pourquoi) in french, so instead when my friend asked me something I responded with

"Quand"

But I said it dead-serious, and we laughed for like 15 minutes about it right after LOL

Anyways Translation-anon, unless its hieroglyphs I'll read and respond to the posts :33.

I worked at an ESL center for a bit during college, so you wouldn't bELIEVE how manY fcvKING engLIsH paPErS I had to help edit

ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

[mafaldaknows]

I've been thinking about Armie and hoe. All I can think of is that they had a brief sexual relationship, or not at all. Last time, he might have answered her letter. Lawyers say all communication between him and his partner is voluntary, perhaps just to restate his position. There was no rape or coercion, and if there was sex, it was voluntary. (but that doesn't mean it happened.) In any case, a long-term relationship is almost impossible. If she has been having an affair with him for many years, there will be more photos of two people or his, not just photos of fans, and her statement will not change again and again, because all she has to do is to tell the truth of the affair, and the only thing that can change again and again is lies. The date of her rape case was also very delicate. At that time, his chest muscle tear had just recovered and it was difficult to beat and rape an adult woman for four hours, which cast a shadow on the authenticity of her accusations. Unless the date of the rape was real and could not be changed (but there were other signs that it was unlikely), she could have chosen a better date to avoid these things, which I think was because she didn't know enough about his life. But if the relationship lasts for years, she will know more about his life.

DMS is easy to forge. Considering that the wrong grammar and stupid wording are far from what we know as Armie, he is unlikely to flirt with hoe and become a fool. Lawyers also issued subpoenas to Facebook and instagram. If the DMS is true and there is no forgery or tampering, then the lawyer does not have to do so. In my opinion, if the case of rape (DMS) is true, Armie should admit and apologize before the scandal further damages the public image. There is no better way to end the scandal than to admit. After all, it was futile to argue with the truth, but he hired a lawyer to fight confidently. In short, I think it's almost impossible to have a long-term relationship. She may have had sex or had no sex. She is a stalker and is more likely to harass him for many years. When he refused her, she angrily forged the DMS, forcing him to admit her and destroy him.

Sorry, it's a rush. There could be a lot of typos.

Hello, Anon:

No worries, you’ve made a clear statement, with which I agree and understand, mostly.

My mind is swirling at the moment, so please forgive the haphazard assemblage of thoughts that I’m about to throw down, as I struggle to make sense of a nonsensical situation:

I am still on the fence about whether or not they actually ever had sex, but I’m definitely sure they didn’t have any sort of long-term entanglement. I think you’re correct about HOE being a stalker and harassing Armie for years, perhaps after a one-night-only performance.

Armie’s DM released by his attorney is authentic, unlike the ones HOE wrote as dull and witless ESL Armie, but it could be taken out of context by some to make it seem like they had a legitimate connection of some kind. The more I read it, the more it sounds like someone trying to appease an obsessive fan with whom they had previous obtrusive encounters, and is merely playing along with their game in order to de-escalate a potentially dangerous situation. That’s not the tone of someone who was ever in love with the person receiving that message, or even remotely likes them. The underlying sentiment of that message imho seems more like “How do I get out of this without hurting anyone? What if she has our address?”

If they actually had a legitimate relationship, she would’ve known the facts of his injury, surgery, and recovery process, and would’ve chosen a more believable date for her allegations. She also would have more than one photo of them to show, in more intimate settings and locations than on the street in front of WME. A meet-and-greet is not a relationship, despite what moony fangirls might want to believe.

As for his attorney’s statement, I think it leaves too much room for interpretation, and was not as definitive or forceful as it could be, thus only adding to our confusion. But that may have been intentional, as this is still a fluid situation and anything is possible. Wiggle room is better than backtracking. Because backtracking looks like lying, as we’ve learned from HOE’s example.

If any of HOE’s allegations prove to be true (which I doubt highly) then, of course, remediation is in order. But the fact that HOE is not filing charges or taking Armie to court says a lot about the validity of her case, at least to me.

So, you may be on to something, Anon. This could end up being a incredibly complicated case of simple stalking.

Thanks for your comments. 😊

[haxyr3]

Привет!

I've got to read ~40 poems from 1800-1950 for my russian class... After just 8 weeks of class. Our teacher has admitted they'd be a bit difficult 😅 but I'm struggling loads. Do you have any ideas as to how I can work through this poetry with so little knowledge? Example poems are Поэт, Арион, Exegi Monumentum from Pushkin and then other poets like Федор Тютчев, Осип Мандельштам, Александр Блок...

I've got to be prepared to discuss them in depth in January and to discuss linguistic features and meaning, but I'm struggling even with the language.

Do you have any tips for managing poetry in russian or wrapping my head around it? Sorry that this is a bit of a messy and undirected ask but I'm really struggling :/

Привет!

Wow, I don’t even know where to start.

First of all, this is not a surprise that you are struggling with the Russian classic poetry. Many native Russian speakers struggle with classic Russian poems dated back 1800 a lot! Obsolete vocabulary, outdated grammar, and the events they referred to are way out of the sight of the modern readers. To put in mildly, I would never use those poems to teach my students, unless they are advanced students with strong background in Russian history, literature and linguistics.

For example, in the poem Арион that you mentioned the following words are not familiar to the modern readers, because they are either obsolete or uncommon:

челн - a boat;

кормщик - helmsman (he who is responsible for steering a ship)

лоно  - bosom;

риза - clothe.

Some words are spelled in an obsolete way:

- вихорь instead of вихрь, whirlwind

There are a few short adjectives used:

полн - instead of полный, full

мощны - instead of мощные, strong, powerful.

Even if you knew these words, you wouldn’t recognize them in their short form.

Add the outdated syntax, adverbial participles and other rare piculiarities - and you get a puzzle rather than a poem.

Though the poem depicts a ship being wrecked in a storm, it is a metaphor for the Decembrist revolt. Many friends of Pushkin were exiled, and some were even executed, but somehow Pushkin survived relatively unharmed,  - and hence, the image of the poet who survived a fatal accident. If you don’t know the Russian history and the complicated connections between Pushkin and Decembrists, you wouldn’t understand what this poem is about even if you could decipher the outdated vocabulary and weird syntax.

And this is just one poem...

Let me be blunt: If I were you, I would look for another teacher. Unless you are not doing your major in Russian literature.

Many Russian филологи are kinda obsessed with the Russian poetry and wholeheartedly believe that it is the best Russian culture ever produced. Which could be true, but it doesn’t mean that non-native speakers should use it as a learning materials after just 8 weeks of studies.

If switching a teacher is not an option, then here is what I can suggest from the practical point of view:  

- Try to find a translation for each poem you have in your list; this is how you could understand what it is about.

- When possible, try to find notes, explanations, analysis - many poems require deep knowledge of the cultural background, and the notes, explanations could be very helpful. (Native Russian speakers use notes, too, if they want to learn more about a poem).

That would help you to get prepared for the discussion.

- Write down all “dark“, unclear phrases and expressions - and bombard your teacher with your questions. This is how you demonstrate your sincere interest and let the teacher know that the poems are not quite adequate for the learning purpose.  

- Maybe, start with more modern poems and move backward in time. (Maybe not, because Мандельштам and Блок often refer to Пушкин and other classic poets, and somehow you are supposed to catch those references). Well, at least, the language would be easier.

Honestly, if I were to teach Exegi Monumentum to Russian kids, I would start with the dictionary! WTF is Александрийский столп? Who is пиит?  What does “И назовет меня всяк сущий в ней язык,” mean? (hint: язык = tribe, ethnicity, an obsolete meaning of this word) etc.

I am very sorry that you have to go through all of this. Definitely, this is how the language should never be taught. Imagine an ESL teacher offering The Canterbury Tales to students on the week 8 of the course! I can only hope that you won’t lose your enthusiasm for learning Russian.

Please don’t hesitate to message me, and the best of luck!

[btsiguess]

Wait I am confused, how can grammar be racist?

Okay so, grammar as a concept isn’t racist but. the way that academia uses it ends up being racist and classist. so in the US schools in lower income neighborhoods have less access to the resources that they need in order to properly educate all the students on “proper” grammar. Oftentimes, students are simply discouraged from writing because teachers will focus on the students grammar errors (covering their work in corrections instead of trying to fix patterns of error within the work which is a much more successful way of teaching writing.) These schools are often in places which have larger populations of people of color (because of bigger systematic racism) and so people of color/ESL students in these neighborhoods/generally poorer people are disproportionately impacted by this lack of access to education. so then when these kids get to college (if they choose to go) they are STILL discouraged by being put into lower level courses that patronize them and STILL don't fricken teach them anything. so by holding grammar/spelling as this huge important thing, we’re creating a really specific idea of what makes a piece of writing good and its really annoying to me. I constantly had students who would be like “I suck at writing I hate it” when literally their ideas were good and interesting but their high school teachers had told them that because they didn't write perfectly they didn’t matter.  This doesn't even start on things like how crazy racist it is that there's such thing as “Proper/standard English” like???????? people on some Caribbean islands speak native English but because it’s with a dialect ??? it’s not right? YIKES!!!!  My belief is that if a work can be understood by the reader, even if some effort must be put in on behalf of the reader, then it’s fine work. the ideas are what’s important.  Sorry if this makes no sense I'm p fucking drunk...

[plasticfangtastic]

Cozy Corner Kintober Day 8 (Day 2 for me)

Prompts: 12. Nursing/lactation, 4. Overstimulation, 11. Double penetration, Alt. prompt: Switch (dunno if bdsm switch or vers, so I went with vers)

No codiciarás los bienes ajenos

A Homelander x Ashley Barret x Butcher fanfic.

A/N: told myself this would be a short thing but no... hope y'all like it!

R18: Homelander ‘nuff said, threesome, smut, porn logic, R18, Bottom Homelander, Bottom Butcher, Pegging, dudcon, love triangle, everybody is Bi, slow burn, angst, not proofread sorry.

Word Count: 8K approx.

God had funny ways to speak directly to his favorites, it hadn’t registered at first and frankly he hadn’t care– but the larger she got the more and more difficult it became to ignore, building a slow burning anger spreading inside America’s favoritein return– it was a cheap knockoff of what he had endure with Madelyn but instead of bitter jealousy and rage, he was upset and mad that she would dare to act without his authorization..

Ashley was his property… She was not her own, she was not Vought’s, she was not of her family… she was Homelander’s– she should have asked him permission before spreading her legs like the town’s wench, he thought grinding on his teeth.

As her stomach engorged, the defiance of her actions brought him closer to a boiling point.

Ashley had simply opted to play stupid, acting as if her actions hadn’t threatened to cause a riff in their relationship, as if she wasn’t actively being hostile against him after all the good that he had done for her– how could she dare hurt him like this?

Homelander was the first to informed her, smelling the cocktail of hormonal changes taking place within, peeking under her skin to catch the despicable clumps of cells forming, she had been stunted, running towards her assistant to get her a test for something Homelander had already confirmed with more accuracy than any piss soaked stick… she had been a nervous mess for the remaining week, even more than what Homelander was accustomed to.

 He had approached her after a meeting, cornering her with a stiff look on his features.

“You getting rid of it?” He would’ve made a demand but at the time, he didn't think the idiot would’ve jeopardized her career to play with dolls– the labs downstairs can do it discreetly and free– just so you know.” 

She stared at him with her big round exhausted green eyes, and for a moment Homelander was left speechless for she held back a sob, just shaking her head lightly and thanking him for his concern.

Leaving him behind as her kitten heels clicked on the polished floors.

But with every passing week the thing continued to grow, and grow, and so did Ashley… their relationship hadn’t changed, he was still behaving the same around her but as she got closer and closer to the end of the race, he was forced to held back in public– he couldn't be seen as the bastard yelling at a pregnant woman, he had to watch his tone, never raising his voice if people were around, and Ashley knew just how dangerous this was becoming, worried that one day she wouldn’t make it to her apartment in one piece, feeling she would be in a freak accident that her own people would cover up.

Ashley had stared at her fourth pregnancy test in the comfort of her own bathroom…

Thinking heavily on Homelander’s words she stumbled into her bedroom, her mother’s picture taken at 16th birthday watching over her– her mother would get diagnosed a few weeks after that party. But there she was smiling, her hair a light brown and her eyes just like hers, still so happy and loving as she held her daughter.

Why was she alive?

She was a ghoul clinging to her unlife, as she stroked her stomach thinking of what was germinating within, Ashley thought of her life… What was she living for? Work? What else…? Everyday felt like her last when Homelander was around, everyday was just another day she was allowed to continue existing, always caught in his grasps, surrounded by wicked souls that had taken almost all of her humanity, she had to become like them in order to survive… but why was she surviving, for? She had no boyfriend or girlfriend, she could barely maintain friends, her father had remarried some bitch twenty years younger than himself and now had kids he liked more, she had no siblings, and her cousins lived on the other side of the country, she dedicated her life to the grind, her best days behind it seemed– she was climbing the ladder just like her mother had always hoped for, for she thought of her as brilliant… Now she mingled with people of importance as a member of their flock… but above all she was in Homelander’s very small social circle, which was amazing!

But why did she live for? To be afraid of Homelander? That’s all? She thought.

Looking around at the house, at the empty rooms, and the lack of life– it was just an expensive oversized shoebox holding nothing, nothing to come back home to… she could sleep on a park bench and it wouldn’t be that different from her current state of being– maybe I could live for this? She mumbled wondering if it could hear her.

The money and her career were good but now she had something that she could dedicate her life for… something other than Homelander.

It was stupid and selfish to bring a child into this poisonous paradise, but she could be her anchor, to keep her from steering into the iceberg, to keep her holding on to life.

She only had a single name in her head, only one man responsible for this conundrum.

William Butcher had tracked her, appeased to her decaying humanity for assitance with the Homelander dilema, she wanted to run away from him but the bastard was just as bad as Homelander when it came to taking no for an answer, in this brief exchanged Ashley was finally able to speak her mind, years of torture flooded out of her chest and this man the devil’s priest sitting in its mold infested confessionary box listening to her, absolving her in the process– she was so afraid of him, so scared of Homelander’s heart, and for the first time there was somebody she could speak to, who understood her pain and had been doing things against him, in a sense this was the closest she would get to personal retribution against her demon.

Somehow during those brief moments (possibly do to the whiskey) both had woke up with their entire bodies sore, William turned on her sheets glad to have a soft mattress under his back, feeling the sharp pain of raw flesh where she had bitten and clawed, letting a soft chuckle thinking about how hard and frantic she had fucked the brit, she was so demanding William couldn’t believe she wouldn’t dare give the caped cunt some lippy, after spouting all her exigencies to Billy eagerly without care.

They didn’t see each other much after that, the Brit had found the hard way that Ashley for all her hatred and fear… was loyal to Homelander, terrified of ever leaving his side, of knowing what lay on the other side of the river.

William had to give it to Homelander, he had completely brainwashed her into pure misplaced devotion.

So as she let the city fall asleep around her, she dared not contact Butcher.

The more it felt real, the more she gave herself something to wake up tomorrow for, even if now she had to deal with Homelander, but it would be alright… it would be alright, she kept praying that it would work out.

“You taking maternity leave?” Homelander had entered her office slouching on her couch while pretending to read some marketing reports for an upcoming hair product line with his name on it–I need to know how long– have to find your replacement.” he said with sharp snark.

“Only one month. I already have been interviewing nannies.” She said meekly, fidgeting with her pen as she stopped work to give him undivided attention– "can't afford too many setbacks– especially those I caused.”

“Why?” He looked so confused.

“You’re also my priority.” She hadn’t meant for it to sound so personal, but she was so exhausted, pregnancy insomnia had devoured her brain and these piles of paperwork didn’t shrink any further– I’ll be back before you know it.”

Her sheepish smile didn’t even register on her own brain, Homelander fixed his posture, pursing his lips back and forth between a wobbly smile and anxiety, as he looked at Ashley and her glowing skin.

As he stood in the Seven’s boardroom looking down at his kingdom, Homelander thought of Ashley’s words, like a knife in his back… how could she? How could she dare toy with him?

As he looked at the bipedal ants beneath… Homelander could only wonder who was the ill-born shithead that had dipped; Ashley didn’t smell of anybody other than herself and her perfume– all hypoallergenic goat soap and sea-salt shampoo mixed with adrenaline and hopelessness, he had heard the tinder notifications go off from time to time tho… was it perhaps a one night stand? Of course ‘His Ashley’ would be so irresponsible– he recoiled at his own thoughts… His… was she his? Of course she fucking was! She was his property! The louder voice in his head reminded him of what he was and what she ultimately was… a lackey, his servant, no different from a dog… He had been a good owner so why did she stabbed him? He mused on the thought.

The whole month her replacement had been tempted to quit five times, cried fourteen times, writen a 2-week notice three time, almost attempted suicide once and considered twice. 

Homelander had let out months of frustration on the poor man, he was no Ashley… so fucking weak and pathetic, never dressed properly and stinking of axe and hugo boss, no amount of telling him that the smell was irritating got thru his thick skull, never speaking the way Homelander could bare to listen to, never fast enough or efficient enough in his eyes… he quit the same day Ashley showed up back in the office, baby in hand… and that’s when the nightmare truly began… payback for his mistreatment of her substitute.

God must’ve been laughing.

God must’ve been inviting the devil to the watch party.

Homelander hadn’t had a second to admire the bodily changes before, so angry to notice… It wasn't like Madelyn whose every inch and line he had registered… every inch made to hurt him as she abandoned him for somebody he could never hope to replace.

Ashley wasn’t ugly, just a step above average, but plain compared to every other woman in his life, and her eyes were just so big and weird to him.

But as he caught her breastfeeding in her office… he noticed just how much her breast had grown… maybe 2 ½ sizes bigger, they were so swollen, so heavy and that tiny little girl didn’t want anything to do with them. She much rather the bottle much to the first-time mother’s frustration, who assumed she would just latch immediately, it was the most natural thing for a newborn after all, but there she was getting frustrated– she really couldn’t do one thing right, she cried.

Homelander just closed the door behind himself trying to look away, Ashley jumped slightly covering her baby and herself with a cloth.

He licked his lips, swallowing sand, as he tried to distract himself from the smell of fresh milk waltzing towards his nose… he looked at his boots, trying not to beg for the forbidden.

“Try tickling her mouth with your finger… give her a breather then try again… don’t force it” Homelander said gently, putting the flowers down the table, his ears a dark shade of pink– I’ll come later…”

“Oh” She looked at the arrangement shocked that he had brought her a present to congratulate her on her delivery, albeit a bit late but...god this was somethign remarkable– is okay… just give me 1 minute to get the bottle.”

“Is not good to give up so easily, Ashley.” His voice had an odd firmness to it.

The impromptu meeting went smoothly Homelander doing everything in his power to look away, to hide his face as the smell of milk and the sounds of that baby drinking mocking him– god it smelled so fucking delicious, his mouth filling with spit in between words.

This was punishment.

If watching it wasn’t an adrenaline rush… his ears were plagued by the sounds of her breast pumps, of the sloshing of her milk as she shook the plastic bottles before packing them, every other time she was in the building, coop in her office.

Homelander would find himself planted firmly on the spot as he caught the sound of the machine sucking… of her little whines and moans of relief as the pressure on her tits loosen.

God must’ve been pissing himself laughing when he watched him grow unbearably hard to the sounds of Ashley tasting a little drop of milk off her wrist that had spilled… her tongue’s quick flick provoking him.

Ashley was his property… she had no right to tease him like this.

That night Homelander waited ‘til Ashley left the building before heading in the dead of night to wander into her office, and here he could almost hear the angels giggling as he looked into her fridge and found himself in a very familiar scene.

He tucked his arms behind his back hiding the bottle with his cape, as he hurried upwards– in the solace of his penthouse, undressed one hand pumping his cock, caressing the lenght of his shalf as his pre-cum slicked the tip of his cock, he moaned with every short sip, letting it pool in his mouth and mingle with his spit– Ashley cradling him in her arms and her breast in his mouth, fantasizing of his hollowed cheeks sucking on those swollen breast, who gave a shit if it was Ashley of all people!? Not him… not when she tasted so freaking sweet. Not when she was all he could smell, all he wanted to smell, all he wanted to cover himself with, just to fill his stomach with… he laid in bed with his twitching cock, cum all over his abdomen and a light head.

He had come so hard his eyes had grown unbearably heavy, he dared not wash the taste of milk off his lips, he looked at the chewed up nipple and the light puddle of milk at the base of the bottle before just passing off with a full stomach.

He would have hated Melody had he actually given two shits about her, but with her arrival he at least had an excuse to satisfy a craving, glad that the baby would latch but still prefer plastic… not knowing how lucky she was.

On the occasion Ashley brought the child, he gave her deadstares which the child seemed to find amusing, squealing in approval.

Melody Barrett didn’t bother him until now.

Curiosity got the best of him, and maybe Ashley hadn’t been as clever as he had given her credit because there she was arguing with him… with HIM!!! in her apartment, this traitor, this wench, this bitch had never been loyal! He wanted to burn her down, and shower himself on her ashes.

All it had taken was her coming to work one day with something more than unusual clinging to her dress… cigarette smoke, he had smelled this flavor before, he had smelled it on Maeve, but above all he had smelled it on William Butcher.

Cheap cigarettes.

So he flew to her apartment just past 10 pm, in all their years Homelander had never once actually seen the 2 bedroom loft, it was big with high ceiling most likely an upgrade from her previous residency, not that it mattered… the building could come down and he wouldn’t care about all the broken kitsch or its residents… What mattered was that his property was interacting with his mortal enemy… and killing them both right now the only thing in his mind.

William had calmed down, demanding to know if the parasite was his or not which Ashley was so hesitant to answer, squirming in her skin trying to deliver the news without the other man snapping, as she spoke Butcher dropped to the nearest chair, pressing his hands into his face trying to wash away his disbelief, he let a light chuckle out murmuring to himself before ignoring her completely as he headed to the baby’s bedroom– all pink and girly, within laid a sleeping baby, her hair just a light shade of brown and her eyes now that Homelander thought about were… hazel green. He signed and gave up on the spot slouching on the bar not daring to touch her.

How sweet, Homelander thought.

Butcher emerged telling the woman that he wouldn’t be around for the kid if Ashley continued to be bound to Homelander, he didn’t want a new wife or a sex friend but he was fine with being there if she returned to the living.

Ashley just stood there twisting a strand of hair, nervous, her skin covered with goosebumps at the thought of running away– Melody was that bridge to freedom, but in all the time she’d known of Butcher he hadn’t succeeded at harming Homelander… who was he fooling? He was a failure just as much as she was! But he still believed he could win… he still refused to give up… that’s all she needed to believe.

“I… I wish I could.”

Homelander saw red.

How dare she think she could leave?

No… she couldn’t… no… not to him… don’t run to him… he thought, as Butcher's whole demeanor changed, the woman he could barely stand now looked so frail, he dared comfort her, trying to poison her mind with hopes.

When had Homelander enter the home? When did he break the handle off the balcony door that he still had scrunched in his hand? All he knew was that Ashley was cowering behind her arm chair and Butcher was standing in the way.

“why…?” Homelander’s lips shivered– why…w-hy wou-would y-you leave?”

He pushed Butcher out the way, flinging the man right into the other end of the living room, dragging his feet towards Ashley, she dropped backwards crawling away from him as his hand reached after her.

He lifted her effortlessly feeling how thin her neck was around his gloved hand.

“Why would you leave, Ashley?” 

Ashley sobbed lightly, not putting any resistance just clinging to his wrist without any force.

“I will never let you go.” he let go of her neck, his arm took her shoulder pushing her right against his chest, the faint glow of his eyes looking at her face– you’re mine… there’s no world out there for you if you leave me.”

Her heart was so obnoxiously loud, but he liked the sound.

His nose touched her own, their lips so close she could almost feel his smile kissing her.

“Is that clear?”

She nodded, holding back with every ounce of will she had left her tears, he cradled her in his arms, cooing and stroking her back, forcing her into a tender embrace, watching Butcher as he emerged bloodied.

“Was he a good fuck? Did you have fun?”

She could’ve tried escaping his grip but the thought of putting any resistance terrified her, the thought of dying and not knowing what would happened to Melody was enough to keep her still– yet the man wanted an answer as her shoulder began to ache, as she winced and cringed from the agony.

He let her go, throwing her into the ground just to meet Billy head on.

“Was Maeve not enough? Did taking her from me wasn’t enough for you, William?”

“Seems to me she was never yours, cunt.” he spat into the carpet– can’t blame you for being attached… She could bend a pipe with that pussy.”

He couldn’t say that of the mess trying to collect itself behind the boy scout.

“You want a list? Do you want a list of all the women I’ve fucked just so you can rub it on my face, you cretin!”

“Man I really missed out on fucking Madelyn, I bet you would’ve thrown a bigger tamtrum.” Butcher tried to get a step towards the door, but Homelander took him by the arm– keep the bitch I don’t want your sloppy seconds.” He growled.

Homelander was silent, ignoring Butcher’s complaints as he tried to free his arm, Ashley barely regaining her composure as she watched Homelander lost in thought.

Punishing Ashley would be easy, she was easy to scare back in line but Butcher… this was the second time… if he let him go there would be a third time and then he would be nothing but a fool for the rest of his life.

Butcher who had promised him so much, who devoted his life to him, who molded his whole being to him… Homelander scoff at the perversion… much like Ashley… William was his… he was HIS enemy… the closest thing to an equal… his equal if he crossed the line and took the V.

Butcher struggled putting his whole weight trying to free himself, knowing his bones  would break if he pulled any harder– Homelander turned his head around just to dare look him straight in the eyes..

Butcher was a dog… all dogs needed an owner… just like Ashley was his dog… He had the space for another dog, the voice susurrated.

Homelander tugged at the arm bringing them so close, now it was Butcher in a strange embrace.

“You’re a stray mutt that needs to be fixed… you got my cute widdle Ashley pregnant… leaving me a half-mutt to take care of… so William what should I do with you? Should I take you to the shelter or take care of you myself?”

Butcher growled, punching him and bruising his hand instead.

“Don’t you dare touch the kid, you sick fuck!”

“I won’t touch the kid. I’m not an animal– you two on the other hand…”

Homelander took the man’s chin pushing his thumb in between his teeth, chuckling as he tried to bite the gloved finger teasing a broken tooth in return.

“If you wont leave my Ashley alone… I guess I have to take care of you too… I know you… I know your weaknesses… you won’t leave that kid alone, you’re not heartless… you are soft.” He said with genuine mockery and malice in his tone.

Homelander stroke Billy’s temple, gentle fingers trace his face returning to those lips, so soft looking, he could see the charms that tried to steal his Ashley away, that seduced Maeve into the dark side and that kept Becca so devoted, behind the gruff and scars the man was cute, handsome even– but ultimately soft looking, those eyes so dear and pretty.

“I’ll take care of you both.” He smiled leaning closer until his lip brushed Butcher’s lips– you’re mine too.”

Butcher tried resisting but Homelander was too much, no pulling on his suit could get him to move as he intensified their kiss, his tongue forcing his open, his lips bruising his, leaving them tender and sore, Homelander moaned and shuddered as he felt the resistance, tasting him to the core, rejoicing as the man slowly lost his footing and will– Butcher tried to pull him by the hair but all he gained from the man was a loud moan, the more he ran out of breathe the more he realized Homelander reaction were abnormal. He let him lead rubbing his nail behind the blond’s ear catching the moment Homelander shivered and let out a whispy moan, how much he liked it when Butcher pulled at his hair and tickled his bare skin... whatever was happening here– Butcher had a plan on how to make it out alive, make it out unharmed, to make sure that Ashley and the baby could get out in one piece, he would find a way to get Mallory to help them but first… first he had to sink low.

He had to play along and sign him praises, he would be a martyr if he had to for the child he should’ve never had– why did he do this to himself? He should have drank those questions instead of confronting the chihuahua, why did he need to know? Now he was here about to degrade himself, as punishment for his curiosity.

Homelander was shocked awake from this maladaptive dreams by Butcher wild kisses, he moaned, panting into the supe’s steel silky lips, one hand had left the scalp and found himself digging into the supe’s tights already a couple fingers touching bare back.

Homelander whined separating them finally, his toes squirming as he felt Butcher’s calloused fingers try to reach his ass.

“Ticklish aren’t we?”

Homelander dare not humor him, but as the man managed to find treasure Homelander gasped… his fingers were so rough, it was like sandpaper, no wonder Ashley fell for his trap, his hand was so masculine and rough… it was domineering… he squeezed him– Butcher wouldn’t admit it outloud but Homelander had a perfect ass, it was so big and squeezy, so heavy yet malleable… why hide all these cheesecake behind the cape, idiot? He thought.

“You want to own me don’tcha?” He growled into Homelander’s lips– "you want to be my owner then play with me, young master.”

Homelander nose flare-up, feeling small in the arms of the taller englishman.

“I got a lot of pent-up energy,” he purred.

“I guess… I guess… I guess we can p-play” He mumbled.

“Please not in the living room…” Ashley muttered, now collected and looking annoyed as she picked a large piece of a broken trinket, and admired the broken door swinging lightly– William… Homelander, sir.”

“Of course… my bad” Homelander freed himself from Butcher, dragging him by the hand as he complained, picking Ashley and heading towards her bedroom on the way – let’s have fun!”

The personality switch obnoxious.

Okay he had not anticipated this, Butcher thought, blaming a possible concussion for his lapse of judgment and poor planning.

The moment that door closed behind Homelander, he jumped Butcher once more, throwing him in the plush bed, surprised to see just how soft and bouncy it was, Homelander examined the older man beneath him, and the scowl in his face.

“Ashley you pick”

“Excuse me?”

She looked at them both perplexed, biting on her thumb as she caressed her wrist.

“Pick who fucks who, silly.” His smile creeps her out– you want to see him pinning me down and fucking me like the wild dog he is, or you want to see him bouncing on my cock like a good bitch?”

It must’ve been a trick question, but something in her brain must’ve been broken by Homelander ages ago, so she fixed her composure and gave it a real thought. Either picture was good… in her bed were two beautiful older men, two men who clearly hated each other whoul whould be sinking into a violent and heavy dirty hate fuck session… looking at Butcher she had an inkling that the man would rejoice at the thought of making Homelander into a sow and she herself would like to see that man begging for mercy and his enemy’s cock, but on the other hand… did she want to risk pissing Homelander off if she didn’t let him top first? The way he worded things made it seem there wasn’t any real choice… and Butcher had the look that he would turn to putty if that happened… After all, the man had been more than willing to make her happy during their exchange.

“Give her a minute you can almost hear the porno playing in her head” Homelander whispered with a shit eating grin.

Butcher rolled his eyes.

“You top first, sir.”

He smiled in approval, it was a trick question after all.

“Prep him… like you did the last time.” He dismounted resting on the bed by his side– don’t look at me like that William– is her making the decisions… don't worry it’ll be your turn next!” he winked– bring the toys I wanna see them!” he said playfully.

Ashley was almost robotic as she took to the night stand and took her toys and lube out, Homelander counted with both hands at the amount of stuff she kept, running out of fingers by the time she was done.

Butcher had nothing to say as Homelander picked the silicon anal beads, watching him with mild disgust as the man licked one of the beads.

“Aren’t you forgetting something, Ashley?”

“What?” she said weakly.

“The ones in the closet… Jesus did you go during a closing down sale?” he looked at the toys on the bed, all the vibrators and dildos.

“I think this enough, mate.”

“Ashley get the ones in the closet.” His voice is sweet but firm.

The woman obeyed heading to grab the box in the walk-in closet, she took it to the bed blushing hard as Homelander waited to see the contents.

A double sided dildo and a themed strap-on.

“You are freaky” Butcher chuckled unable to look at the spread and believed it belonged to her… no wonder she was eager to eat his ass that time– so if you’re fucking me… what is she doing?”

“Me or you…”

He hopped out the bed smoothly and began to undress, letting the suit thud by his foot.

Something about it registered poorly for Butcher, it was abnormal to see, but he gave it little thought as she caught the sounds Ashley was making on the other side of the bed.

Ashley's mouth watered slightly as she took the double sided dildo in her hand then looked at Homelander as he turned around to take his thighs off, then back at the Brit mouthing an apology that he didn’t want.

She should’ve picked the secret third option which was herself.

Ashley took her silk nightgown off with ease, and that confident arrogant prick jaw shook as he saw those swollen breasts, as he looked at her curves and the little drop of milk falling off her nipple.

His gaze fixated as she moved to the bed pushing some of her toys aside to take the lube bottle, Butcher took to removing his shirt, kicking his shoes off towards the Supe, Homelander dare not budge from his spot content to just watch for the time being.

Billy pulled on Ashley letting her naked frame fall on him, and as if Butcher pressed the wrong button the woman was quick to let her plastic dick take over her brain… Butcher was a manly man, much better than her usual cheap cock, he was rough, his muscles firm even if his stomach was getting soft by age, his chest so hairy-- a thrill to squeeze and pull. His sight focused on the other man in the room, watching Homelander irritation and then sudden amusement as Ashley started to pull down on Butcher’s pants.

She wanted to fuck this man and make him call her ‘daddy’-- mostly ‘cuz  Homelander would probably like that, and not for devious reasons, she negotiated with herself there.

Homelander let himself sit on the edge of the bed watching with detachment as William 's arms were pinned over his head as Ashley grinded herself gleefully, biting on his lips, and Butcher’s plan was simple make the bastard happy and find a moment to get the baby and run, Ashley would survive, she was always resourceful otherwise how else had she made it this far under his thumb, and he would get her help, Homelander wouldn’t care for the baby, afterall.

“You've done this before, haven’t you?” 

She turned to him a thread of spit still connecting her with Butcher, she nodded lightly following Homelander as he moved behind her.

“Get him nice and wet for me while I take care of you.”

Ashley mewled as his hand pulled her hips upwards and towards himself, Butcher hated himself as his cock throbbed at the sight, her face was elated she was starting to let go, getting drunk on their kiss and the manly musk of William– Butcher shimmied upwards as Homelander pulled them away, knowing the man was secretly envious from the look on his face.

She was still plump from the baby, her body had more meat to hang on and squeeze, he gave her cunt a light slap, watching her shudder and jump from luscious pain, Homelander chuckled pulling her silk panties aside, spitting on his fingers before teasing her cunt, Ashley had never expected his fingers to be so freaking smooth yet so fucking warm, as he slid a finger into her folds, it was as if he had boiled his hand before touching her, it was so hot it made her writhle in pleasure, her juices coating his fingers instastenously, as he increased the speed of his strokes.

Butcher took his pants off finally regaining her attention, he adjusted himself in the bed as he threw the pants to the side and spread his legs unsure if this was the right position or not.

And just as Homelander teased the entrance, Ashley hopped forward looking back at Homelander for permission which he quietly gave as he teased her further.

“Lay on your back some more” She said to Butcher.

He followed instruction glad that she owned a king size bed, laying down with just a couple pillows and his arm for support, the other giving his cock a few tugs just to start building friction, His cock blocking half her face, her hands reached out after him caressing his thighs as Homelander fingers entered her, spreading her inside, rejoicing at the sound of her pussy drenching his fingers, sloshing sweet juices around– she was reacting better than he expected… that he had ever wanted… just for him… it made him happy that Ashley continued to be so good for him, pulling at his fingers as he drew them back, moaning under her breath with pure neediness, he looked up watching the back of her head bob up and down as she took Butcher thick rod into her mouth, it was salty, the smell drowning her, she let go letting Butcher jerk himself as her hands forced his hips upwards, forcing himself to take one of his legs, pulling his knees closer to his chest as her mouth kissed his cunt.

She slobbered all over, licking every inch of his mancunt as if it was a delicacy, the taste was strong but addictive, licking and teasing the entrance and his folds with her tongue all while Homelander did the same to her, his fingers going faster and faster, her pussy weak to his relentless abuse as he pumped another finger into her opening, his other hand caressing her ass after “mellow” tap after tap, her whole body electrocuted with each slap, feeling a hand-print burnt on her skin.

Homelander couldn’t believe just how good this was, hearing Butcher grunts and hisses as Ashley reduced him into a slave to his sexual desires, bucking his hips lightly to get her to reach further, she lifted herself spit down her chin reaching after the bottle of lube and a bullet from the spread.

Taking the tip of the bottle towards his entrance, she smiled as she squeezed the cool gel around his ass, Homelander begrudgingly let go of her to let her work.

Fingers and toys digging into Butcher, the Brit trying to contain his enjoyment but his body was betraying him, he hated having to admit that Ashley was making him feel good, his cock leaking heavily into his happy trail, as he chocked as the toy teased the tip of his cock.

“That’s enough.”

Butcher almost brays as she lets go, wanting to feel her massage his prostate even further.

It was Homelander’s turn, picking her up just enough to put her on the man’s chest, she looked back after being put down shocked about how easy it was for him to lift her, Butcher had a hard time breathing for a second until she perched above him, before Butcher could say something Homelander pulled him slapping his hips against Butcher’s lifting him long enough to place a cushion under hips, placing Butcher’s face mere inches from Ashley's pussy.

Butcher had no time to protest before he felt the heat.

His whole being writhe, pulsating as the man let a sharp wet hiss… Homelander filled him, resting his forehead against Ashley’s back as he felt the soft insides. Butcher was divine so warm and soft, so forbidden, so perfect.

Here he was fucking him as he gasped and croon into Ashley, his body assaulted from both ends, glad he couldn’t see the man fucking him so roughly and deeply, glad he couldn’t see the man making him feel so good.

It must be some divine joke that this bastard would have no issue turning him into a woman, if he had wanted him from the get go.

He sped up, knowing his cock had gotten thicker, he was about to finish.

Ashley was screaming behind her hands, not wanting to wake up her kid, but Butcher was eating her better than any of those Spaniards ever did.

“Turn around Ashley!” Homelander growled, his voice hiding the desperation in his heart.

She didn’t hesitate, and before she could say a word there he was– her personal demon kissing her fiercely, pumping his hips and handling Butcher like a pocket pussy, lifting his legs into his shoulder to hit his prostate spot on with every rough trust, as he kissed her he melted into her. Fuck he loved kissing, his whole body twitching as her tongue made a home in his lips, somehow she had gained the confidence to pull at him, to demand him to kiss her harshly moaning as Butcher had his fill with her pussy, sucking her lips, and pulling on the folds, as Homelander squeezed at her breast and twisted her nipples just hard enought to make her squeal and squeeze at Butcher’s tongue.

Dangling by Homelander’s shoulders as he kissed her, drowning in his taste, leaving Butcher further and further behind, pulsing lips taking a breather, sore and raw, but William doesn’t want to stop… so his hand chases after her, fucking her selfishy.

Homelander had slowed down giving his lover slow and deep trust, making sure to fill him to the brim as the two sudden lovers turned selfish too, above him.

She looked down seeing the bouncing twitching cock leaking all over his stomach.

“I have an idea…” she whispers, leaning into the blond’s ear away from Butcher.

He lowers the leg, manhandling Butcher with a glint in his eyes as he helps Ashley, taking the older man into the edge of the bed, he grins making sure to never let Butcher free, her sopping pussy kisses the tip of Butcher’s cock, the man whines biting his lip squeezing at the sheets as she drops and takes him effortlessly, sheathing him with her wet warmth that he had worked so hard to give her, she’s gasping into Homelander’s ear as the man pulls her by the neck.

Biting into the flesh sucking at her pale skin, leaving a trail of hickeys to mark her with, letting Butcher know this was also his.

Butcher saw white as both ends of him were tormented with pleasure, sweating profusely and ready to cum.

He let out a loud grunt as his body lost the battle.

Crying as his cock was squeezed and Homelander's thick cock kept pumping, Homelander wrapped his arms around Ashley as he cummed feeling Butcher tightening around him so suddenly, breathless as he rolled his hips deeper wanting to mark Butcher the same way he had marked his loyal plaything.

Curving her hips as she rode her orgasm, a dazed smile crossed her lips as Homelander kissed her so lovingly, as his hands eager to explore her curves, giggling as Butcher lifted himself to kiss her body the moment Homelander pulled out.

Feeling the warmth enveloping from inside and out.

“My turn…” He mumbles into her chest and Homelander catches it, unable to control his amusement– get in the bed you cunt.”

Homelander jumped into the bed, his knees a little weak at first.

Ashley almost falling into the ground as Butcher gets her off of him, he was eager to fuck Homelander, staring with her mouth dropped as Butcher took one look at the younger man and took a dildo from the spread, giving it a few licks.

He took the head of the pink toy towards the Supe’s mouth.

“Make it nice and wet for daddy because that’s all you’re gonna get from me.” His voice so low and guttural.

Homelander doesn’t hesitate taking the toy into his mouth, spooking the older man by his eagerness.

Watching him as he hollows his cheeks, watching him attentively as his tongue brushes his fingers, licking every nook with such technique Butcher almost threw the toy aside and shoved his cock into those thin lips, his free hand pulling at Homelander’s nipple, delighted to hear the man moan loudly as he pulled at the sensitive nub.

Homelander took the toy out with a wet pop, his hand already looking for the real thing.

“I rather have this” he stroked him– let me see what made my Ashley betray me.”

“Oh you’ll see.” That was more threat than flirt she noted.

Butcher wanted to record this for prosterity, the sight of his blue eyes rolling back into his skull as he fucked his mouth thoroughly, pre cum and spit bubbling in the corners of his lips, old cum spilling from his nose, and lose pubes stuck to his face, but Butcher didn’t allow him to stop sucking him, always reaching the throat, glad to feel it tightened around him, glad to see his hands wanting freedom but those glazed eyes were too good to watch.

Wanting to always have this image of Homelander playing with his nipples, pulling on them until they were pink and puffy, and crying as Ashley gave him a lazy blow-job, glad to see the twitching cock begging for more friction and kisses.

The sight of the most loved man in America, covered in cum, all flushed and needy, his hair just a complete mess– that made this whole ordeal worth it for Butcher and Ashley.

Homelander was pinned to the bed, his body shuddering, he whimpered as the two bastards teamed up against him, it had been an experiment, dragging his nails on his back as he fucked him with the vibrating toy, Homelander flounder, biting on the sheets as Butcher teased his sensitive skin.

He had been foolish to undress, to expose himself, Butcher had thought it was a powerplay, to make himself appear harmless and approachable, to make Butcher comfortable with the idea of fucking him… and it probably was but now Homelander wished he would stop, that they both would stop, the moment she touched his sides he was begging her to stop, but Butcher wouldn’t let her, licking his chest, and sucking on his nipple rolling her tongue on the swollen nub.

His skin prickly and hot and the light in his eyes blinking back and forth as Butcher pressed another toy into his entrance as his chapped hand massaged his member, he clung to Ashley as she came up to kiss him, as Butcher teased him more and more, as he grazed his skin with those jagged nails.

“Just fuck me please!!” He begged.

His skin had betrayed him, punishing him for taking the suit off, for being so bold.

Butcher grinned licking his lips, watching the tears building in the corners of his eyes, the unbelievable sight of Homelander fucking himself on those toys but wanting more, Ashley looked back at Butcher feeling sorry for the blond, and eager to see this play out.

“I guess I am soft.”

He took the toys out, watching it gape and beg for him, Butcher gave himself a couple strokes.

And the man almost cried when he finally felt Butcher inside him.

Butcher was rough. squeezing at him, slapping his ass, pushing him down and lifting him.

If he slowed down Homelander would roll his hips back at him, biting down on his arm, staining the sheets with his blood as Butcher marked him.

The sound filled the room as Butcher pounded him. 

The two had been so consumed with each other that Butcher had ignored the other person in the room, surprised when Ashley came behind him, teasing the wet entrance with her perfectly manicured fingers.

“Let me help you out, baby.”

Butcher felt the tip of something big pressing against him.

A nervous smile crossed his lips, and all he could do was adjust the position.

Guess he couldn’t complain about being too spoiled.

Homelander grinding himself in the front, kissing Butcher, his hand pulling on the older man drowning on his tongue, it didn’t matter if it was Butcher or anyone else, he wanted to feel loved no matter how twisted it was, no matter if Ashley helped the gentleman keep up.

Butcher gave up.

Relenting to the pair.

Never did he imagine he would be so drunk on Homelander, unable to stop himself from biting and licking at the man’s neck, letting him crook his neck in every angle he could to get a taste of the older man, he tasted so clean– only now had he began to sweat, even the rare salt tasted sweet, looking at his enemy reduced to nothing but a man controlled by nothing but hunger, his hair messy and stuck to his forehead, his eyes glowing back and forth but so loving and sweet, this was somebody else’s wearing an enemy’s face, now there was some meek man looking at him with pure adoration.

This must've been a taste of heaven, Homelander thought.

Feeling Ashley, tug and pull at Butcher's hair, squeezing his sides and biting whenever, she was mad with power as she fucked him harder than her hips would prefer, but she wouldnt slow down no matter how much pain it caused, not when she was so close to the edge, when her pussy was squeezing so hard.

Billy cursed falling into the crook of John's neck.

“Please cum inside me” Homelander cried into Butcher’s ear.

Butcher let the pleasure take the lead, let Ashley fuck him into her orgasm and let Homelander wrung him dry.

William melted into the blond’s arms, melted into their kiss as his cock charged into him– filling him with his thick hot seed, Homelander could feel his cum travel inside, coating him, feeling his feeble attempts to breed him, glad it was Butcher doing this so boldly.

Ashley cursed behind his back, dropping behind him satiated and exhausted, enjoying the heat coming from Butcher’s, listening to his heartbeat, swayed by his breathing.

The woman took it out, falling to his side looking genuinely happy with her life.

Shifting closer wanting to stay warm, Homelander stretched his arm offering her space, as Butcher took to one side.

She took her place by his side, the man was a hot water bottle in winter, perfect for any cold night, at this moment with his messy hair and his tired eyes this wasn’t her terrifying boss… this was just a hot guy she worked for. 

“Give me a minute before it’s your turn,” he said, trying to catch his breath.

“I’m too old for this, you two have fun.” Butcher spoke too exhausted to move from the spot, his hips painfully sore.

Homelander could only offer a placid smile.

“I’ll take care of you, don’t worry about your hips… daddy.” he said with a short laugh.

Butcher would’ve loved to rest, to fall asleep and begin his plan but those two had too much pent-up bullshit to deal with.

Ashley seemed over the moon as the supe showed her what it was like to fuck the world’s strongest and fastest man, drooling as he fucked her and stuffed her spare empty hole with one of her toys, pulling on the toy as he trusted inside her with his actual being, being stuffed so compeltely by his cum and her toys she wanted to be left empty... Homelander wanted one thing and that was for this woman to understand that she was owned.

Fighting the exhaustion drifting in and out of consciousness, Butcher would wake to his penis being kissed and licked, Homelander sucking with gentle force, wafting in the flavor, savoring his precum and his own leftover taste, his hand pulled harshly on the scalp letting himself be lost in the feeling, enjoying the long wet tongue exploring William as the redhead joining him seconds later.

There wouldn’t be an inch the two weren’t enjoying.

In a lost second Homelander would mount him, fucking himself as Ashley squeezed at his chest and grazed her teeth on his shoulders.

He could only smirk at the sight of Homelander… at the drool on his chin, and his lost stare.

He could only smirk as the man felt forward covering them both with holy milk, as Butcher’s seed was cleaned out of him by her tongue.

The night became too heavy for the trio.

Butcher had only one thought in his mind but as Homelander nuzzled his side, wanting to feel him as he slept, as Ashley wrapped herself from behind him, Butcher postponed his plans… just for a night.

One night wouldn’t hurt.

By morning they all would realize the enormity of what they had done… the magnanimity of their actions, he thought.

Instead…

There she was cooing, looking refreshed and delighted, she shushed at Butcher as he woke up groggy and sore, the man looked down gaining awareness, remembering what had transpired.

One look and he was more than just awake and sober.

Homelander latched on her breast, sucking shamelessly, suthering as she caressed his ear, his other hand softly massaging his free breast, well aware of the milk spilling as he gave light squeezes.

Bliss.

That’s all he could feel, the taste all consuming, all divine, his body reborn as he enjoyed the taste of her, Ashley had only done so by accident, joking as he stared at the milk he had accidentally managed to squeeze out from her moments before while titty fucking, he had come and almost passed out to the sight of his cock covered in milk, coming so hard he had cringed and cried for how good he felt-- instead of runnign away Ashley hadn’t hesitated to showered him with affections as she moved upwards... offering him what he had dreamed off...as his tongue took the soft pink nipple into his mouth, he smiled.

Quivering as he took those first few gulps, as he squeezed her nipple with his tongue and found gold.

Wanting more and Ashley was glad to provide.

This was all he had ever hoped for… feeling the swollen bud on his lips… savoring every drop as the woman cooed and caressed him with all the loving tenderness she reserved for her child just now lended to him, seeing him like this brought an euphoria unlike anything before, seeing him so small and needy, whining as she adjusted herself to help him feed, seeing his nose nuzzle and press on her chest as he seeked her out… to know she could exert so much power over him with just a simple action, was a rush.

Homelander was in heaven squeezed between the two lovers, Butcher smirking to himself as he squeezed the man’s side, knowing he could use this ammo for the rest of his life.

Then the baby woke up.

Somehow it had slept peacefully the entire night, and Homelander could smell the reason for her interruption, he cried as she parted promising to come back, Butcher took to homelander mockingly offering his chest as a pacifier, staring at him with lost blue eyes before taking on the offer afraid that Butcher would change his mind.

He squeezed at those big beefy pecs seeking nourishment but finding nothing, Butcher drowning in the wanton of Homelander’s, how much the man wanted his mouth to be filled, sucking on fingers that dare try to part him from his comfort, it was strange but refreshingly good sensation for William.

Butcher would think about escaping another day… This was something he could use against him.

A trap designed by its victim, so he smiled and copied Ashley.

Homelander rested… happy, content, eager to wake up later, knowing that he had done a good job teaching them that they belonged to him.

[dutch-polyglot]

3,6,7,9,10,23,24,30,36,38,41,46, for the langblr asks-- that's so many i'm sorry you dont have to do them alll have a wonderful day, whenever it arrives~~~~

3. What other languages do you speak and on what levels?

I was basically raised bilingual in Dutch (true Native) and English. I like to think I’d be able to communicate in German pretty decently by now but it’s probably A1 or A2 haha. My Esperanto has faded but if I polished up on it a bit I’d maybe be at A1 level.

(just putting the rest under a cut bc this is pretty long 😂)

6. Do any of your family members or relatives speak a language you don’t?

I know some of my relatives speak Indonesian, and my heritage makes me want to learn it (bless Duolingo having it now), I think my cousin learned some French in school though he hasn’t done anything with it. There’s a possibility that on my dad’s side someone speaks Surinamese or Hindi, but I don’t know for sure yet.

7. If you want any children, do you want to raise them multilingual?

Yesss! I don’t know what languages yet, but definitely English, and of course the language of the country I’ll be living in then (+ the language of my wife if that’s not the same). Whether I’ll have kids we’ll have to see though :p

9. When and why did you start learning the languages you’re learning?

German I started in school, 2011. I hated it but the teacher was really lovely which is why I picked it up again. Esperanto I picked up about a year ago due to an interest in how simple it was said to learn, and that it helped with understanding grammar, which is true!

10. What languages would you like to learn in the future?

Oof, I have a list of all the languages in my about page which I will probably never finish whoops, but the most important ones are definitely Indonesian, Irish, any form of Sign Language, and Surinamese/Hindi if indeed part of my family came from there.

23. What methods and techniques do you use to study languages?

For German I used a course from a school where you can just study yourself at home, and memrise is perfect for vocab for me. For Japanese I used JaSensei which was really useful and helped me learn the hiragana and katakana which I still know to this day! With Icelandic I also used icelandiconline, though the site isn’t of great quality, it throws you right into the deep end which can be good for those who find that a useful way of learning. Other than that I listen to a lot of songs and try to practice in my head whenever I can.

24. Do you prefer to learn languages at school or by yourself?

I used to hate school because of the languages, but now I’m okay with it. I still prefer learning myself but having someone correct you is the most beneficial help you can get imo.

30. What advice would you give someone who is trying to learn a foreign language for the first time?

👏 expand 👏  that👏 vocabulary👏  you’ll never have enough vocabulary, and when learning a language actively for the first time it’ll be harder to pick it up as when you’re learning your native language(s). If the words have grammatical gender, learn them with them as well because it’s easier to learn that it’s “das Buch” then learning “Buch” and later having to figure out that it’s a neutral noun.

36. What is your favourite thing about the country/culture where one of your target languages comes from?

Bread. I love bread, and so do Germans, so it’s a perfect match:’) Not to speak about the actual irl mountains they have :0 My Dutch self loves me those views. Also a slight guilty pleasure but those high ways where you can go as fast as you want? Awesome. There’s nothing like going 210 km/h down a highway with almost no one around except you and your friend.

38. How does your personality change when you speak another language?

Hmm I think in English I’m more open than in Dutch (from what I’ve heard ESL speakers seem to often feel that speaking in English makes it less hard to open up, I tend to agree). I don’t know how I am in German yet due to lack of speaking experience but I felt quite confident while speaking it during summer school.

41. What do you think about the statement “learning languages is cultural appropriation”? 

Personally, I don’t agree unless it’s a language that’s part of a culture that wants you to ask to learn it beforehand and/or is closed. Other than that I feel it’s fine though. I don’t see why anyone wouldn’t be allowed to learn Indonesian or any other language, as long as you’re respectful it’s all good in my book:)

46. How do other people react to your language studies?

Most people around me are pretty supportive so I haven’t had many negative reactions yet! I’ve mainly heard people say that it’s impressive I’m putting so much effort into languages because they wouldn’t be able to do that. (which I disagree but that’s a different discussion haha)

Oof I should get back to homework now 😂 Thank you so much for all the questions though! You have a wonderful day as well

[honeyvoicehwang]

absolute random ramble about esl im so sorry /pos(?) /neutral

so im taking education courses at my college to become a teacher and we can’t go into the schools and observe the teachers at the local schools because of covid, so my professor gave us a bunch of videos to watch of various grade levels and classes and teaching styles so we can write reflections about what we did and didn’t like about the teaching styles (gflkjfl last week i got really passionate about how much this one teacher pissed me off because he was treating his 9th graders like 3rd graders or younger and i ranted about him for like a whole page) and the one video im watching rn is an esl class and english is my native language -- im from the united states -- and ?? ive never considered what it would be like in an esl class because ive never had to take one and it’s so strange because they just cover a variety of topics and we havent seen a class going over grammar so it’s just like stuff they’re covering and idk how to describe it and its so strange to watch but then i thought about it and ive been taking french in school since 6th grade and ive been learning it informally since 2 and i’m at low b2 level.  i was like “this has got to be what it’s like for someone who speaks a different language to watch something like this if they needed to.”  because i can think about it and be like “yeah this makes sense to me because im in this class and i know (for the most part) what’s happening” but then i understand english so its just so strange to watch it.

we had to watch another esl class last week as well and i didn’t see that it was an esl class when i clicked on it and the title gave nothing away about it being an esl class so i was like “wtf am i watching” because it was a bunch of adults and i went to the comments and like someone literally thought it was a special ed class.  like if you know the language and you aren’t given a ton to go off of (that last video was “who is xyz?”  “who is abc?” “how do xyz and abc know each other?” “repeat after me” and made them repeat several times and it was a smaller class so if you didn’t know it was an esl class when you clicked on it (which -- how would you there was nothing about it in the title?? and i forgot to check the descrip. so idk if anything was there but), i can see how they thought it was for a special ed class and i was just like “huh.  this must be what its like for someone fluent in another language to watch our language classes.  covering a mush mash of topics and sprinkle in some grammar and vocab while switching between said language and english” but like

the students are in the class im sure they mostly get whats going on and it makes sense to them but fnljfldfjsdlf

im not saying esl classes are bad idk how to word my thoughts im literally just typing im just saying its so weird to see it because ive never had to see it before so ive never consdiered what kind of stuff they go over.  especially since these are adults/likely college/night classes so its not even like theyre really covering grammar because the teacher is speaking in only english so they likely know a lot, if not most to all of the grammar, so it’s just like my current french class but less focused.  my speciific course right now is for francophone countries and their cultures and some history about them and stuff while these classes the best way i can describe them (the ones ive watched -- esp the current one) feels like 6th grade social studies -- which isn’t bad at all.  thats not what im saying.  it’s just the topic they covered (voting) and what they had to do and me aligning it with my memories of what/how/when i learned things.

its just so fascinating because as ive said several times, english is my first language so i know the language very very well so its just interested to watch an esl course because id never even considered what or how they would cover topics.

tbh i kinda wish my prof would include some other languages but we still have 10 weeks and like 3-5 videos a week so she might bc i just find that absolutely fascinating.

if not i might search them up myself lmaoooo.

anyways if u read this im so sorry my mind is a jumbled mess -- this reflection is due in 3hrs and instead of watching the videos i spent 15 minutes writing this hggjrgj but nothing im saying is trying to imply that english is a better language than others or that if you aren’t on the same level as an english native at the same age you’re less than for whatever reason, im just saying its strange to watch an esl class because im so used to being able to put classes into boxes in terms of topics and i just cant do that with an esl class because it doesnt fi into those topics and oh my g-d i didnt even realize i thought that way :0 but once again esl classes are not a bad thing and this has a generally positive/neutral tone to it nfjdljfl

thanks for reading if u did im so sorry

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[fanfictionlive]

Shame and disheartening comment

Hello, it is me again. Once again. You know, I am always here because this is the only place where I can get support. So thank you in advance!

Currently, I've got a problem. Again. A big, mean problem. The biggest problem I've ever had.

I am an ESL writer (as you can see heh), so it means I do have typos in my work and texts, and I am trying my best to find and fix them. I've proofread my story like four times by now.

Anyway, I got a 'nasty' comment, where the person (or bot) stated that I shouldn't write fanfiction in English because it isn't my mother language. Maybe someone trolled me, or they were grammar na**es and just hated my writing. (I'm sorry if I did hurt you with my skills.) But it discouraged and disheartened me so much that I can't bring myself to write the next chapter — not even one shot.

I am really ashamed of myself.

The truth is, we all need criticism. I crave constructive criticism. Haven't got it yet, I do not have many readers, few people leave lovely comments and rest of them are silent. But that comment wasn't constructive criticism or even negative criticism. It was personal. They threw a spear of 'do not continue your story, your English sucks' straightly to my heart.

And guess what. It worked.

I put my story immediately on hiatus. I can't write anything now. I don't know, can I write anything never again. I despise a thought of writing; I despise a thought of continuing my story now. It just... I don't know. I fear writing now. I'm afraid of sharing my work. I've improved my English and writing since chapter one, and I am proud of myself because of that.

I wrote a separate Author's Note 'chapter' where I apologised from native speakers and told about my feelings, but no one hasn't seen it yet. Now I'm thinking should I add it into my multichapter fic? Though I know most of the subscribers will not like it. They expect a new chapter, not 'hello this story on hiatus because of reason X'-notification. I just want them to know. They follow my story, not my user. Don't really know what to do.

Thanks for hearing me out.

❤︎ Someone who is a writer like you, but took an arrow to the knee.

submitted by /u/hannamary [link] [comments] from FanFiction: Where Magical Ponies battle Imperial Titans https://ift.tt/35k3yDI

[impageddon]

Space Race - Chapter 1: Prologue

A PvZH Fanfiction

I miss writing fanfics so I hope you don’t mind if I uhhh start posting one. Here are the Important Notes:

PvZ franchise belongs to Popcap.

I’m an ESL student. Plz don’t be mean if you find grammar mistakes. Point them out so I can fix them ‘u’

I am doing this for my own fun. Don’t expect me to post fast.

Based on headcanons.

Hope you like it ‘u’

    - Beta-Carrotina, we have an incoming transmission from Earth! - Said Lieutenant Carrotron, surprised with the situation. The other two carrots in the room looked at him with the same expression of astonishment.

    Earth. That was unbelievable. It had been so long since the last time the Plant-etary Guard had any information about that planet, and now they were being called.

    Beta-Carrotina and Ensign Uproot were frozen for a period of time, trying to remember their last contact with the L.E.A.F. agents, but it didn't took long for them to hurry up and approach the taller carrot, the sound of their jetpacks breaking the silence.

    - Accept it! - She shouted as soon as she could see the computer screen.

    Lieutenant used his body to press a button, and an holographic screen popped up.

    - Hello! - Said a male voice. The screen was glitching, and annoying sounds could be heard. Yet, they could see Crazy Dave looking at them.

    - Crazy Dave! - Beta-Carrotina started. - It's been a long time! How is Earth doing?

    - Earth? Well, uh… A lotta things happened, but I would say neutral. The signal is pretty bad, huh?

    - True... Uproot, check our radar, there must be a satellite nearby. Try to approach it.

    - Okay, Miss! - The shorter carrot replied, leaving the room.

    - A fun thing is that we have superheroes now! - Dave commented.

    - Wait, what?! Superheroes?! How?!

    - Let's just say one of Zomboss' inventions ended up giving powers to some folk, because the full story is very long.

    - That's awesome! - Beta was amazed, but her feelings quickly changed to jealousy. SHE was the one supposed to make plants stronger and powerful, not the zombie team's leader, but her experiments about genetic amplification didn't end up very well... No, it wasn't time to think about that.

    - Yes! Let me tell you about them, they're…

    - Dave, we're calling them for a reason. - Crazy Dave was interrupted by another voice.

    - Oh, sorry. I got distracted.

    - I can take place if you want to, I don't know, do something else…

    - That's a good ideia. Guys, this is Citron! - Were Dave's last words before leaving, getting out of the screen. Some kind of orange wearing sunglasses took his place.

    - Nice to meet you, Citron. How can the Plant-etary Guard help?

    - The thing is… Our spies found out that Zomboss discovered a meteor called Meteor Z. It seems like there are powerful zombies in there, and the meteor itself has some kind of source of power in it. Today he sent some folk there. We are worried; if everything works well for him, the zombies will get so buffed and strong…

    The carrots listened to the story, looking as worried as Citron. They were about to comment when, all of a sudden, a boom noise was heard, scaring everyone. the hologram went black and closed itself.

    - We lost signal! - Lieutenant pointed out.

    - What was that?! UPROOT?! - Carrotina shouted. They both flew around the station, looking for their friend. They knew their space station was safe because there was no alarm, but the explosion was in fact a big worry.

    - BETA!! The satellite was attacked!! They escaped!! - Ensign Uproot was finally found. He approached the window and used his body to point at a spaceship, already far away.

    - We're going after it!

    They all went through several hallways and rooms untill they finally reached the door for outer space.

    - What are we going to do about that Meteor Z thing? - Lieutenant questioned as he left the station.

    - I imagine this is the ship Zomboss sent there. They must be zombies to attack L.E.A.F.'s satellite, right?

    - Uh… What Meteor Z thing exactly are you two talking about? - Ensign Uproot looked confused.

    Beta-Carrotina was telling him what she heard from Citron as they followed the responsibles for the explosion, but as the story continued, all those words slowly started to have a new meaning for her.

    Meteor Z, according to the orange, had a source of power.

    Beta remembered her failed experiments. The times she tried to improve a plant's genetic code and make them stronger, and all the times she ended up doing nothing but hurting them.

    Could that be the missing piece?

[bookofmirth]

Hey, I was wondering if you have any tips on getting fluent in a foreign language. I like to think my English is pretty decent (I tend to get A's in English for school) but I know that if I want to get into an American college I need my English to be perfect. Also because I need to do the SAT's and those have an English part (side note it costs 90 euros to do then, what???)

Hi! So based on your message, I think you’ll have no problem getting along at a university in the States. I teach mostly international/ESL students, anywhere from freshmen to juniors, and frankly some of them have a much lower level than you seem to. Of course I can’t say that with any confidence, based on one paragraph, but… you don’t need perfect English anyway. It might help you if you have one of those dick professors who grades grammar strictly, but that isn’t common unless you are in a business program (based on what I’ve seen at my uni). tl;dr about that - I might want to talk to you more to gauge your level better, but I think you would be fine.

But your main question was about fluency. This honestly takes time. And you could focus in a couple of ways. Reading is a fantastic way to improve vocabulary. There are a lot of learner podcasts out there (I don’t know of any for English specifically, but if anyone wants to comment that’d be cool?) if you are concerned about your listening skills. I’ve used them for French in the past. They aren’t lessons necessarily, but one I listened to was news, it was just paced a bit slower and was intentional for non-native speakers. I have studied French going on 8 years now? And I still wonder when I’ll ever hit that point where I would confidently say I am fluent. And that’s with a lot of formal education.

I think you just need to decide on your goal, because native-like proficiency for a non-native speaker is so, so rare. Literally, those people get written about in research articles. So you should decide, I want to use English for this purpose (e.g. going to university in the US) and shoot for that. Which honestly, it doesn’t need to be perfect for that. Native speakers mess up all the time, and they still graduate. And I know it can feel like you are being held to a different (higher) standard, as an international student. I think this is probably why my international students do better than my American students, tbh. They just try a lot harder. But don’t hold yourself to a native-speaker standard, as much as it might be tempting to, bc that is... not realistic. You just need to be able to navigate the situation you see yourself in.

(Sorry this took me all day to respond to and I feel like my response was all over the place, let me know if you want more info about anything in particular.)

[plasticfangtastic]

Can We Be Lonely Together? Ch.7

A Homelander x Stalker! fanfic

This is a long chapter so beware.

check my blog for prev. chapters under #my fic tag or the title of this fic. this is a slow burn fic

This is a GN fic, and technically also a supe! reader fic... I leaned a bit on a male reader if am honest as this is a crack ship fic of sorts.

Author's note: I'm glad to be posting this again, had been on a holiday and it was kinda hard working on this fic, altho will say that editing a fic with smut in a plane next to a stranger is not a fun experience.

Sypnosis: You're a mind reading supe who has become enamored by Vought's number 1 supe, he just won't like the lenght you took to make yourself his favorite

R18+ blood, smut, anal play, stalking, murder mention, bit of fluff and Homelander is OOC in this chapter.

Chapter 7

Acts of Savagery

Edgar’s shadow loomed ever present inside the tower, Homelander felt trapped in a maze of monsters seeking his demise lurking on every corner, the list of those loyal to him slim, and there wasn’t a conversation gone unnoticed, the sudden bouts of background music filling offices had increased to a noticable degree even to non-supes. 

Everybody seeking to file him as incompetent and cause him ridicule, his only solace had become Ryan and the more days turned to weeks the more anxious he became, finding something abnormal in the way some watched his son– their fake politeness or over the top niceties kept him weerie, unable to confide with anyone his worries.

But then there was you… it was meant to be a mechanical exchange at first, these interactions nothing more than massages with happy endings, but at no point did you complained, your willingness to indulge him was beggining to break his brain.

Coming no matter the level of inconvenience, watching from afar across a dozen walls to study your reactions, expecting eye-rolls and bemoanings– witnessingnothing but tired grins and squeaky steps. Homelander began to act like a child testing his parents' limits, seeing just how far he could abuse you, seeking lines to cross but all had been drawn in sand by the shore. You were eager to meet him, making your schedule wrap around his, as if you already understood your place in this hierarchy, even Ashley and the remaining Seven offered resistance in these matters.

The more he studied it the less confusing it became in a sense... Your schedule consisted of working, eating good, working and him.

You made sure to keep a low profile, to not stand out.

Your home tastefully decorated, he had made a game of trying to figure out where the money went, your home had plenty but also nothing, you were boring on purpose but only on the surface.

Homelander entered thru the balcony, your home smelled like vanilla and your floors relatively clean, your pantries stocked with the fanciest ingredients money could purchase in this city, your cooking equipment just as expensive, a cursory look at your knife set online had set you back four figures-- letting out a loud ‘yowza’ after seeing the price tag, Homelander hurriedly placed the knife back, in this brief moment of free time in-between his daily patrols, Homelander found strange pleasure in invading your enclosure, feeling the softness of your velvety couch against his palms, touching your knick-knacks, and admiring the few art pieces. 

He made the way to your bedroom.

Your bed was smaller than he expected, your blankets disheveled , and your menu of pillows excessive– nobody needed more than six pillows to sleep.

A pile of clothes rested by the foot of the bed, catching himself before taking a whiff of your clothes looking for peeping-toms before bringing your shorts up his nose, the scent just as he remembered, from here he could see a handful of perfumes that didn’t match the scent he had grown familiar with, even spotting a half-used bottle on the rubbish bin offered him a clue of your decision process.

You had no photographs of family in this spacious two-bedroom loft at all, only a single photo of you and a latina by the kitchen wall as proof your existance,  Waltzing around back towards your kitchen Homelander opened your fridge.

He took a step back, spotting a note left inside.

“Maybe I’m crazy but if you do come while I ain't around feel free to eat? I always make too much. xoxo.”

He had been caught in a small felony, yet the victim welcomed him. Hunger was nothing he was entirely familiar with, his needs quite minimal in that department, he used to joke that all he needed came from the sun but his stomach spoke.

Neither could recall when was the first or last time somebody had cooked for him just for the sake of it, he opened the tupperware to find some leftover chicken marsala, plated even within the container, now the random fork and knife left by the breakfast table made sense, lasering it until the meat sizzled correctly he eat alone, making an impromptu treasure hunt for hidden messages addressed to him– had he missed other notes? He sat on your couch, a blanket bundle under him smelling of sea salt, and cherry blossom, the meal heavier than what he preferred but he had finished it all before he knew it.

He picked the remote, finding another post-it.

“Neighbors bitch too much about the volume.” Your sound system made him a tad jealous– leave the TV on so I know you came in.”

He left it off.

“You don’t think this is just a little off?”

“Though we established that Y/N was special.” John mentioned cringing at the end of his line.

“Oh they’re trying to sweeten you up…”

“Perhaps… this wasn’t too bad, either.” He places the dirty dishes inside the dishwasher– what do they want from me? They already got the trophy fucks… nobody is this strange if they don’t want something more”

“Talkign about Y/N or you?” His reflection spoke.

“Is a fantasy… we don’t need anyone else… not anymore. We have a family now!”

“But you still want the wife barefoot in the kitchen… making sunday roast and pies.”

His distorted self shrugged with a big smug smile from inside the faucet.

“You talking about me or you?”

He called you later that evening while Ryan trained downstairs under The Deep’s supervision, carrying a fistful of guilt in his stomach as he called you. Never mentioning why a copy of his house keys had found their way to your desk, simply showing up rushing straight into his arms, your weight always lighter than he expects, kissing you had become a minefield of strange sensations, your tongue eager and needy, and your lips always soft, your hands caressing his hair, never leaving it alone, pushing Homelander’s shoulder towards you desperately working to fade away all distance down to a cellular level.

This was supposed to be a cynical event… a simple release… now precious, you welcoming him at his neediest, Homelander testing your limits as he bit, nip, suckle and squeezed, it remained with him how your fading wounds appeared to be nothing but gifts from him to you, watching you attentively as you allowed each brand– a pit caved his chest, growing with anticipation, both itching to witness your rejections. How could it be that no matter how much he teased your paperthin flesh you appeared to encourage it? Homelander had a difficult time accepting this urge to see you deny him, to deject him, to despise him.  When you so tenderly spoiled him, cooing him lovingly, as he threw his tamtruns.

Always so easy to make pretty birds run away, he was too much, too heavy, too suffocating for them– just not to you… both men agreed you had the patience of a buddha.

He kissed your whole body with unspoken apologies, cradled you gently as he fucked you in his couch, praying that nobody could hear your guttural growls as he forced himself deeper into you, your legs intertwine to the matching pattern of your fingers on his scalp, not wanting him to breathe on his own without a taste of you, tasting your clean sweat, sniffing your hair, everything of you was so clean, nothing to bother him, nothing to overwhelm him, eagerly resembling him, leaving the room scented with him alone– leaving  apart of him trembling with fear… this had to be a vivid hallucination, another fabrication of an overactive imagination– too good to be true.

Breathlessly panting in his ear, as he fills you.

Your eyes are so wide, so adoring, so scary to him. 

Homelander had craved affection his whole life, he had craved attention, devotion, company… Why didn't this feel right? Had he secretly been lying to himself? 

Falling into your lips, tasting a sprinkle of your blood, your arms wrapped themselves around him, humming sweetly into his temple as you attempted to regain your strentght, petting him all the way down his neck, until both your heartbeats synched in relaxation.

“Would you like me to cancel your meeting?” 

He watched you dress, tidying your hair before one of the many mirrors holding your tongue as to not mention the remodelations.

“I can be late to my own meetings… like the dining table?”

“Eight seater, nice. This a single slab of Brazilian Rosewood?” 

He nodded pretending to know what that was… presumably you were correct, for he simply said ‘grand’ to the interior designer.

“Love these lines… I’m jealous. Is there something you wanted by the way?”

Caught against the wall, navigating aisles in his mind looking for urgent matters to discuss with the only soul he could confide with at this stage.

“I want Ryan to go to a proper school… tutors are all over my place, and those vultures hovering around are annoying. I’ll let you hand something special to your owner if you can give me a suitable list of schools for Ryan. Nothing public, we aren't savages! Dunno if there’s any Supe schools other than Godolkin.”

“Unlikely…” your brows furrowed, giving him a dirty look– finally liberating him, his was the fucking moment you showed your true colours– nothing wrong with public school… but Ryan is a special child… he’s yours. So he deserves the best your name can get him– I’m sure any school would beg for the honor. I’m sure the boy would be happy to see kids around him instead of boring salarymen.”

Your heart rate is steady.

“Ever wanted kids?” what the fuck did you just say you stupid– forg–

“Happy either way… assuming I live long enough to consider the possibility.” 

Watching you come to him, cupping his cheeks, he puffed his chest wanting to make himself appear calm.

“Thanks” your kiss was short and playful, nothing but butterfly wings against him– It will take me a while with your request, chief.”

“No pressure.” he fixed his posture as your hands left him– the chicken was good.”

It took you a second.

“Glad you liked it.”

You didn’t react at all.

“You don’t care I entered–

“Next time call me so I can cook for you, you need to try my carbonara is very indulgent”

Always leaving him confused.

Staying true to your words, boundaries made of glass and drawn in flowing rivers.

This emptiness all too familiar now felt crowded.

Loving you should be easy.

He bet it would be easy.

Walking in opposite directions catching the sound of your bones turning to catch a last glimpse of him.

Flying to your direction just to catch a final glimpse of you as you make it to the kitchen, looking around searching for his mess then signing happily as you find it in the dishwasher.

Homelander wanted to say the right things, to wooe you, to impress you if he could…

Entering the dark room you called an office, you type looking on information regarding some run-of-the-mill scumbag.

“Busy?”

“Just confirming the location of some human traffickers. It would be lovely if you could just fly all the way down to Laredo afterwards and just wait ‘til… seven? When they bring a truck full of hopefully not dead bodies. But not really”

“Sounds like you're busy.”

“It’ll be so good for your ratings. I got the address, or do you want me to call some local hero so they can look good instead of you? Mind you I’m just doing this to make the FBI look incompetent.”

“Mutually beneficial, then?” He leaned forward holding his weight on the back of your seat, catching a whiff of your perfume– Did Roman like my treat?”

“He wants your head on a platter. Didn’t do much but I told him I got something big brewing… I told him I thought you were unto me.”

“But I am.” He kissed your twitching aorta– what do you want to fuck me with?”

His kisses increased, painting a collar on your pristine neck, your eyes closed relaxing your shoulders letting him peck, one hand on your chin, and the other creeping under your shirt. 

In his mind just looking at you was enough to bother him, wanting every spare moment to both test you and relieve him, sex a tool against theoretical boundaries, you smiled… he was cute when he acted so childlish.

“Something nice and girthy.” You wouldn’t tell him of the thoughts swimming in the board members heads, you wouldn’t mention the bad room videos, you wouldn’t mention the not so unnamed women, but he could smell the adrenaline coursing through your veins– might be nothing… mi sol.”

Two words set him ablaze. 

Even as he rocks his head back, eyes struggling to stay open rolling back into his skull, even as your fingers and your hand fondle the most sensitive parts of his body, as he edges with your tongue elevating his shaft as your fingers squeeze ruthlessly, and pump him eagerly.

Twitching with excitement whenever somebody walked past the door, knowing of the spectacle the stranger would witnessed, as your mouth lubed his entrance, your hand eager to fill him, the stain in your pants growing wider, his head becoming light but awake regardless.

He wants your rejection.

Afraid of old habits.

Pleading to gods to stop teasing him with false hopes.

As his hand pushes your head lower, wrapping each ungloved finger with fistfuls of your hair, as you pull him closer unafraid of the creaking of your arm rest, he cannot bring himself to believe you’re a real person.

With a wet sharp whine he fills your mouth with thick cum, shaking himself clean on your lips, tapping your tongue with a now glistening tip, Homelander looks at you and those hazy eyes, wanting to kiss you.

“...y/n do you want to take a break with me?” his voice struggles to stay steady– I want to go check on Ryan… after I go stop those human traffickers of course.”

You nod, cleaning your lips.

“Its strange having somebody other than me to talk to?” his brother asks after the cameras stopped rolling– to look forward to talk to?"

This had been beyond a success this whole event resulting in a small amount of casualties, red and blue lights, and soon to be deported illegals, both could hear the ratings going up. 

"Not that Y/Ntalks much.”

“You like talking to Y/N too… this isn’t good isn’t it?”

“We can’t get attached. I don’t think they’ll be as bad as Maeve but… maybe… possibly.”

He’s flustered, shaking his head before departing. 

Homelander is already flying back home, knowing he will still get an attempt of an earful for entering  some other hero’s territory, but good luck telling him off– after all the CEO just saved a dozen people from a cartel, sure that had to count for something, fuck protocol.

He found you still on your desk, meandering on your screen while on company cent.

Your head turning before the doors even slid open, he caught a whiff of that oddity and shelved it for later.

“You wanna go watch a movie? I dunno what Ryan likes but this one has good reviews!” your voice sounded so eager it took him by surprise, Homelander didn’t even had a chance to reply before you leaped off your seat towards him– there’s a session at 8:20 so there shouldn’t be too many people, but you should definitely change”

“change what?”

“Your clothes? I mean you don’t wanna get your suit covered in oil and salt” You raised your eyebrow while picking up your stuff– there’s this amazing dumpling place I think you would love, we can catch a bite and then head to the movie.”

There’s an eagerness building in his throat, observing you carefully as your eyes glimmer in the fantasy, you seemed desperate to leave work.

“After we go pick Ryan of course…” you say.

“I’d like that”

You wrapped your arm around his elbow pulling him away, there’s a buzzing on your phone but not coming from your pocket, it hadn’t stop shaking in your cabinet once, he stared at it spotting an old cellphone surprised more by your hands pushing his cheek to look away– this gesture of intimacy as you playfully dragged Homelander out of the office without care for cameras outside, made his heart race and forget about the phone.

Ryan had been eager to go out, unsure as to whom his father friend was, but by now he had gotten accustomed to strangers hovering around Homelander, far more weirded out by his changed in attire, beside Vought issued pj’s and some sweatpants this was the first time he’d ever seen jeans on him.

Homelander hands squeezing at the fabric of the varsity as if it itched, feeling nude with these thin layers, the way the fabric draped around his body and sagged around his physique was exotic and not in a good way, the way the cool breeze touched him covered his skin in goosebumps, his hat compressing too tightly it squeezing his brain, his breath shuddering lightly as they walked around the city. Around these strangers he felt ignored and watched, his eyes behind shades and his hair a mess under his cap. He felt like a cartoon character in this costume– everybody should recognize him, he was a god, his face more recognizable than Ronald McDonald… but no.

Nobody noticed him, the discomfort growing too great to be ignored, the ringing in his ears increasing, as food arrived by an indifferent elderly waitress.

How could he not be recognized? his face in a billion objects, he was reduced to nothing as not even curious glances were offered his way, his heart ringing in his ear and his brother nowhere to be found, for the first time he felt absolutely invisible, never once did he imagine he would be pleading for flashing lights, as his ears ringed, louder and his tongue sat uncomfortably in his mouth.

Your sudden touch on his forearm soothes him, bringing him down, the ringing replaced by a cacophony of voices and dishes, you talk about the food swearing on the pan-fried goodies, making sure to offer greens to Ryan, laughing at his observations as you ask him to share about his day. 

The mundanity of this exchange, of your casual touches, of your constant need to make sure he had food in his mouth– has food ever tasted like anything but bland? For once he perceived the depths of a dish, the chewy but slippery texture of dumpling skin, the bok-choy crunch mingling with the salty-sweet mince, and the umami of the vinagre sauce pinching his taste buds, this whole scene should’ve felt fabricated but for once he existed in the now, just as himself, not as a walking billboard for Vought.

you half smile asking him about tomorrow’s plans, ensuring your fingers always touched some part of him.

 Looking around he saw other families acting just like this, couples and friends just talking and munching, the kitchen loud as the waitresses yelled to the cooks in mandarin, and even if the low plastic seats were uncomfortable, he didn’t mind. 

This was all he had ever wanted in a sense, lacking all the glamor he was accustomed to.

Sitting in the dark watching the movie feeling his finger turn oily, he felt your weight shift as you leaned your head against his shoulder, your hand touching his as it seeks popcorn. 

Settling yourself against him. 

He cracks his neck lightly catching Ryan completely focused on the movie, hearing around to spot many empty seats, a non-committed smile paints across his face, resting his cheek on the top of your head turning to plant a chaste kiss earning him a quiet chuckle, your other hand wraps around his arms in a frankly uncomfortable manner but for the remaining sixty-plus minutes he bears it.

This was a date. A proper date… even in disguise Homelander was out in public with his date, so this had to be a normal… mundane… simple… date.

One of many, no?

So who was him? Who was this gangly man from Arkansas that commandeered your time away from him, who took you from him, who you entertained and conversed so intimately– if you leaned any closer you might as well be dry-humping him, he thought.

He saw florid reds.

Then just red.

Here he was covered in blood catching the speedy shadow of his son moving away from him.

His ears ringing and his heart thunderous, bile burning his throat and his ears prickly with heat, pacing himself half-assedly around his home, fine leather now smudged with red streaks and his brother doing his best at damaged control, John was too emotional to handle this but sure he tried, his decisions lacked pragmatism, but even Homelander had no point of reference other than himself on how to deal with mentally scarred children… and just look how well that turned out asked John from within the mirror.

Terrorized by anxiety he had never noticed you coming in, your aroma hitting him only once you entered the living room, only opening his mouth with ignored menace as your hands took his face, your eyes blooshot on the edge of tears, and your sleeve damp as it tried to wash away this evening crime.

“Are you alright?” your voice failed to disguise any panic.

He watched you holding everything you were against his weight.

Watching his own eyes blur inside yours.

You looked at your broken phone still on the floor, thinking of everything wrong that I had done, thinking of the awful things I would do, unable to wash away the ache.

I certainly had a knack for ruining things.