#just my opinion but I think they should have left the prices as they were :(

[mariasont]

Spoiled - A.H

a/n: felt feral writing this hope y'all enjoy it as much as i did

think im ovulating or something YALL IDK

anyhow happy reading let me know what yall think 🤭

masterlist

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: in which hotch overhears your conversation with penelope and decides to do something about it

warnings: 18+ MDNI, phone sex!, sex toy!, fem solo masturbation, penelope being a little instigator lmao, dirty talk, soft dom!hotch, established relationship, honestly a little bit of angst whoops, reader is slightly dramatic like hotch has been gone for prob 5 hours STAND UP!

wc: 3.3k

"Penelope Grace Garcia!"

Her comment earned her the full government name, igniting a burst of laughter that you attempt to smother behind your hand. Sinking deeper into the couch, you dismiss the absurdity with a shake of your head. You even find yourself glancing over your shoulder even though you know no one is home.

"You know, I really shouldn't be telling you this, but trust me, that's the least of our worries in this relationship."

"Look, whatever floats your love boat or rocks your bed frame is strictly your business," she comments as if that were the most casual thing to say.

You giggle, a warmth spreading through you as you tread across the kitchen tiles, the phone pressed against your ear. 

"Oh my god, Pen," you let out a laugh, feeling a soft crimson spread across your cheeks, while your thighs swell with the thoughts of your doting boyfriend. "No, no, like I said we're more than okay in that department. It just gets, well, lonely when he's away."

Your hand curls around the neck of your favorite bottle of red, easing the cork free with a satisfying pop. The liquid swirls into the glass, a little more than probably necessary, as the gentle hiss of water beginning to simmer breaks through the kitchen. 

"You, my dear, are a saint among mortals."

"Well, he makes it easy," you shrug, pouring the rice into the bubbling pot, a cloud of steam rising to paint the windows.

"Honestly, I don't know how you manage. I'd be itching for it, especially if it's as good as you say," Penelope admits with a dramatic sigh.

You laugh, propping the phone against the backsplash, its speaker projecting the conversation into the room. Aaron stands just out of sight, unnoticed, taking in your every syllable.

"When he gets back, trust me, every second apart seems like a small price to pay."

"Ever thought about getting yourself a toy? You know, for those long nights?" Penelope hints not (at all) so slyly. 

The wine almost sprays from your mouth as you stifle a surprised splutter. Aaron, still unseen, raises an eyebrow.

"Oh, um, no, I haven't really considered... a toy," you murmur, cheeks burning. You clear your throat, pretending to be engrossed in the simmering pot. "Aaron might have an opinion on that, I guess."

Your attempt at nonchalance was failing, you definitely knew that.

Aaron rested casually against the door frame, a soft smile touching his lips at the sound of your bashful laughter. He'd always had a soft spot for the way your cheeks bloom with color--a sight he wasn't afraid to go great lengths to witness. The idea of a toy seemed to pique his curiosity, drawing a pensive frown as his attention stayed fixed on you for a moment longer.

He slips away silently, his steps carrying him to the front door as you continue your conversation with Penelope.

The call disconnects with a soft click, and you're left in the quiet of the kitchen, unwittingly promising to keep Penelope updated. Turning back to the stove, you stir the sauce with a distracted hand, your lips downturned. Aaron should have been home by now.

The dining table is set, candles flickering, their glow falling on the chair he's yet to fill. You let out a sigh, stealing another look at the ticking clock. The food is ready, but with each passing minute, it grows cooler, just the unfamiliar feeling of disappointment settling in your chest. 

The audible twist of the key catches your attention, and you can't help but glance over your shoulder. Aaron walks in, his lips curving into a smile upon seeing you.

"Hi, my gorgeous girl," he greets, his voice a familiar sound that kindles a familiar flutter into your heart.

He places his briefcase down, the sound muted, and as he approaches, his lips brush a tender kiss against your temple. The annoyance that had been bubbling inside you melts away with his touch. Damn him.

You turn to him, a sheepish "Hi" fluttering out, your cheeks tinged with heat. It's a feeling that's always fresh, the way he still makes you feel like you're back in high school, hearts doodled in the margins of your notebook.

Aaron settles into his chair, the soft scrape of wood against the tile following his movements.

"Sorry 'M late," he offers, his tone warm, appreciative. "Everything looks and smells wonderful, honey. Thank you."

His fingers gently sweep a loose strand of hair from your face, his smile softening you, disarming you. He's so beautiful.

"You're welcome," you reply, your cheeks growing warmer with each word. "And, um, I hope it's okay. It might be a bit cold. I thought...I guess I assumed you'd be home sooner."

You voice trails off, leaving behind a trail of embarrassed concern, wondering if perhaps you'd somehow overstepped. 

Aaron looks at you, his eyes turning kind as he discerns the unease on your face.

"I'm sorry, baby, got held up with a little errand." He bites into the food, and a gratified hum indicates his approval. "This is delicious."

You find yourself beaming at the praise. He had a talent for that--praising you, almost as if he'd made it his life mission. This was a first for you in a relationship, and it's exactly why the late nights and time spent alone didn't weigh so heavily. 

After dinner, you're rinsing off the plates when Aaron's hands draw you close, his hands claiming your waist, the heat of his palms radiating through the fabric of your shirt. He plants a soft kiss on your shoulder.

"Let me help with that. You're spoiling me," he insists, his words spoken into your damp skin.

You lean back into his embrace, his chest flush against your back.

"I like taking care of you," you admit, heart skipping a beat under the weight of his gaze, the softness in his eyes dissolving your concentration on the task at hand. 

A deep, affectionate groan escapes Aaron as he pulls you even closer. But all good things come to an end, and the ringing of his phone seems like an icy intrusion, like a sudden draft into the kitchen.

"Hotchner," he answers, and even though the word leaves his lips, his fingers gently sketch patterns across your hip. 

You feel your heart sink. When he hangs up, his eyes lock with yours, brimming with an apology he doesn't voice. It's unnecessary, you already know.

"A case?" You hate how small your voice sounds, dipped in an understanding you wish you didn't have.

He nods, a simple stupid gesture that sends a lump of disappointment soaring up your throat, which you desperately try to swallow down. 

"Okay... just, be careful, okay? I'll miss you."

"And I'll miss you, angel. Be good for me."

There's a hollowness in the house that follows you through each room. You were well aware of Aaron's demanding job when you started dating--the unpredictable schedule, the sudden departures, the cases that required his immediate attention. Still, this awareness did nothing to soften to sting of his absence. At all. 

You found yourself wandering aimlessly, picking up a book only to set it down unread, starting a movie but not really watching. Eventually, you ended up in the bedroom, his bedroom, where the subtle scent of his cologne lingers. It's both comforting and heart-wrenching. God, you felt like you were being so dramatic.

You climb into the bed, the sheets cool against your skin, too big and empty without him. Your eyes darts to the phone resting on the nightstand. You've always been careful not to disturb him while he's working, but tonight felt different.

With a trembling hand, you pick up the phone, your thumb hovering indecisively over the screen. Reluctantly, you returned it to its place. There was no point in bothering him.

A sudden draft sent a shiver up your spine, reminding you of the blanket Hotch had bought for you a couple months ago. You sighed, rising from the bed and moving to the closet.

But your eyes skipped over the blanket, instead fixating on a shiny pink bag tucked away in a secluded corner. Compelled by a spike of curiosity, you grabbed the bag and pulled it open. Your eyes widened, cheeks burning with a sudden flush as you placed it on the bed. How long had this been hiding here? And the timing--just after your conversation with Penelope--felt almost too uncanny. 

You went back to your phone.

Hi

The message was simple. You hit send before you can second-guess yourself.

Almost immediately, your phone vibrated--Aaron's name illuminated the screen. You answer, and his voice was there, infused with immediate concern.

"Hi honey. You okay?" His question was straightforward, cutting through the noise.

You nodded, forgetting for a moment he couldn't see you. Shifting on the bed, you said softly, "Um, yeah, I'm fine. I didn't mean to bother you. Is it a bad time?"

His response is quick. "You could never bother me."

A blush flares on your cheeks, and a smile instinctively forms. You fidget on the bed, the sheets sighing with your movements, sounds that don't escape Aaron's attentive detection.

"Can't seem to find the right spot without me there, huh?"

"I can't seem to do a lot of things without you here," you grumble under your breath, intended more for yourself than for him. The bed emits a soft creak as you turn again, your breath hitching in a pout that he can almost see through the phone. "Aaron, I found something in the closet..."

You lost your words, fingertips tracing the toy's edge, as you fumbled with the strings of your shorts.

"Hmm? Care to enlighten me."

"You know."

You weren't in the mood for his teasing, because you knew he knew. You could sense his smugness, his voice dripping into that familiar, velvety register that prompted your lips to purse.

"I don't know, sweetheart."

Once again, you found yourself stirring against the linen, nibbling on your lip as a wave of exasperation washed over you, your eyes rolling into their sockets.

"Where are you?"

"Just got to my hotel room." You could hear the subtle movements in the background, accompanied by the soft groans of the mattress under his weight. "What did you find in the closet that was so urgent you needed to text me in the middle of my case?"

Your face was warm. "You said it wasn't a bother."

"And I meant it, now spell it out for me."

Your hands cautiously pushed over the toy, examining its buttons and sides. Subconsciously, your tongue swept over your top teeth. You lowered your voice as though someone else might overhear.

"The toy...is it for me? I mean, I would hope so. If not, well, we'd have a rather awkward issue."

"Yes, it's for you, baby."

You stifled a grin. How could he have known? That profiling business was really no joke.

"Why?"

His muffled chuckle filtered through, and you could almost see the flash of his pearly whites. You really missed him, so much so that you were conjuring vision of his mouth of his on places that should not be said aloud. 

"I just want to make sure my best girl is taken care of when I'm not home." You could practically hear the smirk on his lips.

You were deep in your fantasy now, your free hand sliding down your shorts as you envisioned him propped against the headboard of his hotel bed, tie hanging loosely, hair tousled just so.

"I'm always taken care of by you, Aaron," you said quietly.

You didn't know how to go about this, whatever this even was. You were treading into unknown territory; never having had phone sex with Aaron--or anyone for that matter.  It was a far cry from the occasional suggestive text.

"That's right." His voice flowed like honey in your ear, causing a shiver as your finger skimmed over your underwear, your breathing momentarily faltering. "You're going to be well taken care of for the rest of your life, yeah?"

"Yeah."

You could hardly breathe, squirming against your own touch, glancing over at the toy that sat beside your hip.

"I want you to know how much I appreciate your patience. You're a good girl, honey. Far too good for me." You weren't. It was the other way around; you didn't deserve him. You told yourself that every day. "I know you get lonely, and I know it's something you'd never admit to."

"Aaron..."

He didn't let you finish. "Why don't you tell me what you're doing right now?"

Your actions came to an abrupt standstill, thumb suspended above your clothed clit. You entertained the thought that this FBI gig might have been a front for a psychic, maybe one of those fortune teller types.

You were mumbling into your sleeve, a private conversation with the threads. "Just...um, well it's hardly worth mentioning, honestly."

Wow you're sure you fooled him.

"I'm not fond of dishonesty." The low rumble of his voice sent a tremor through your core. "I'm giving you a final chance. Tell me what you're doing, sweetheart."

A hard swallow passed your throat, your thumb rubbing idle circles into the band of flesh on your hip. 

"Well, I, uh, was touching myself." The words felt as awkward as they sounded, an internal wince accompanying each syllable at how unsexy you were speaking.

"Where, sweetheart?"

You exhaled sharply at the question, heavy with exasperation at his insistence on drawing this out. But the slickness between your legs was undeniable. Your hand slid back to the delicate skin between your thighs.

"Aaron, please," you breathed out so faintly it was almost inaudible.

He was playing a cruel game, and he knew it. You hardly cussed let alone talk about your lady parts so openly.

"I hope I've never given you a reason to feel judged, honey." There was a sweetness in his voice that masked his darker intentions. "Just tell me where. I want to help."

Your tongue flicked nervously across your lip, your finger dipping into the valley of your folds as you mulled over his offer. You were wet, far more than you had anticipated, practically coating your thighs in the process.

"No, 'course not," you said softly, biting back a sigh as your thumb worked slowly against your inflamed clit. "It's just, you're so far, Aaron."

"Why do you think I got you that toy?" Your gaze darted to the pink thing, resting against your hip. "I want you to use it. I'll walk you through it, just like I would in person."

You could melt. You could liquefy into nothingness on the spot. Your fingers pressed more urgently against yourself, a deep-seated wish for him to be here surfacing, knowing all the while it was a baseless hope.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah, okay."

"There you go, that's my girl."

You couldn't hold back the whimper that fell from your lips as you arched against the bed, fingers diving into your cunt.

"My needy girl," he repeated, his laughter resonating with a patronizing tone that oddly egged you on. "Alright, can you pick up the toy for me?"

You wedged the phone snugly between your shoulder and ear, your hand closing around the pink, curved object, scrutinizing its every detail with careful eyes.

"Okay."

It was big, not as big as Aaron, but its dimensions were nonetheless imposing. You felt your chest heave in anticipation, waiting for his instructions.

His silence was stretching your patience thin. You turned it on, and it came to life, watching as it vibrated, the soft buzz permeating the space. You let it trail over your stomach, fabric gathering as your shirt rode up. Nearing your clit, you braced, taking in a quick breath.

But that breath was released in a strangled moan as you pushed the toy firmly into your sopping hole, legs spreading expansively as a taut sensation gripped your center.

"Did I say you could use it already?" he questioned, his tongue clicking in disapproval as you strained against the device, the second prong vibrations coursing against your nub, your whole-body jerking in response.

"N-No, 'M sorry," you panted, your focus narrowing as you pushed to toy in and out, your lips rounding into an 'o'. "It feels really good, Aar."

"I'm sure it does, baby," he teased, his voice carrying a certainty that your own lacked. "Let me hear you fuck yourself with it.

You loved hearing him curse, it was rare, and usually reserved for intimate moments like this. It fueled your actions, your wrist quickening, driving the device deeper, your stomach twisting in tight knots, a loud moan escaping unrestrained, suddenly you were thankful for the distance between Aaron's house and the next.

It felt so good, and yet somehow still not comparable to how it was with Aaron. Weren't you spoiled?

"Miss you so much," you slurred, your movements stuttering as the device worked your body in ways you didn't know were possible.

"Miss you too, angel. You're doing so good."

"Can you, ah, come home, p-please?"

You weren't even sure of what you were saying, all your thoughts on chasing your high and pretending the toy was Aaron's cock. Thinking about how he'd fill you up right now, how he'd press you to the mattress, how his body would cover yours.

"Your present isn't enough?" His tone was taunting, your eyes welling with tears, clouding your vision as your hips bucked against the toy. "That's a shame, sweetheart, think maybe you've been a little spoiled. You can't have my cock all the time."

You were completely dazed, his sentences barely making their way through the fog as you'd like them to. You were crying, you think, hot and relentless tears carving a path down your face as you fucked yourself harder against the toy.

The noises coming from your pussy were obscene, soaked and squishing as you tried to respond to Aaron, but nothing but small hiccups were escaping your mouth.

"It's okay, baby, I know. You're doing so good for me. I can hear it."

Your cheeks and ears flared with a heat that spelled out your shame, but it was the least of your concerns. Your walls tightened against the device, the pressure on your clit suddenly all too much and not enough at the same time. Gasping for air, your breaths came out in uneven bursts. When you tried to call out Aaron's name, it emerged as nothing more than a choked sob.

"C-Can I? Please, need to so bad." You weren't entirely convinced you were speaking English, but Aaron understood. 

"Go ahead, sweetheart."

That was all you needed. Your cunt contracted again before vaulting over the edge, nearly losing consciousness in the process, a string of moans and half-said words pouring out of your lips.

You could hear the sound of his voice, but the words were just out of reach, not fully making sense. You felt your body twitch, and you blinked deliberately, once, twice, three times, in an effort to reconnect your body to your mind.

"You're so good, baby. So good. Miss you so much."

You pulled the toy, now soaked, from yourself, cringing at the lewd sound as you laid it beside you, making a mental note to wash the sheets later. Although if Aaron had his way that wouldn't happen.

"I miss you." You hated the way your voice betrayed ever emotion you had.

"Need you to go pee for me, sweetheart."

He sounded so soft and tired, but somehow still present. You let out a soft snicker as you curled onto your side. 

"Can't move my legs," you mumbled, the sound muffled by the way your cheek was squished into the pillow. "Need you to come carry me."

His laugh was something you wished you could bottle up. "Spoiled."

"And who's to blame for that?" You were ready for his witty retort, but it was cut short by the sudden flash of your phone. You squinted at the caller ID. "Sorry, Penelope is calling me, can I call you back in a second?"

"Course, honey. Thank her for the idea, yeah?" Your mouth fell open as you scrambled for the right words. Of course he had heard. "Also, I plan on spending a few solid hours fucking you when I get home, so I suggest you get some rest."

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

[pfhwrittes]

retail hell reader is being bothered by an uncomfortably friendly customer and tf141 handle it in their own ways.

warnings: female!reader (she/her pronouns) isn’t being overtly harassed but you know when a man is being too interested and too friendly? its that. egregious use of scots as inspired by still game, pet names “love”, “hen” and “bonnie girl” used to refer to f!reader.

word count: 1.5k

pairings: kyle garrick x reader, john mactavish x reader, simon riley x reader, john price x reader.

each reader x named character interaction should be read as a standalone but i stuck them all together as they were too short to post individually in my opinion.

- -

this customer is making you nervous as fuck. you don't think you've been inappropriate with him in any way, just polite and friendly as you sorted out his refund. the problem is that he's massive, easily taller than simon by a couple of inches and he keeps looming over you blaming his difficulty understanding english as to why he keeps getting closer and closer. he's practically mounting the customer service desk to peer down at you (and you have a horrible feeling he's trying to get a look down your polo top).

you're beginning to panic so you do the only thing you think to do (which admittedly is pretty stupid looking back on it) and make your excuses to leave the customer service desk to find one of your friends. or at least find a colleague who will act as a witness if this guy gets any creepier.

gaz handles it like a champ. as soon as he spots the creep following you around he's there. arm around your shoulders and tucking you into his side at the kitchen consultant's desk. his customer service smile is fixed on his face and he refuses to even acknowledge this giant arsehole of a man, just keeps talking to you softly and shows you the kitchen he’s working on. kyle’s beautiful brown eyes only briefly leave your face so he can point out another favourite part of his design, he never once looks over at the creep. it works to soothe you, especially being so close to him. after ten minutes of being blatantly ignored, the creep walks off muttering under his breath. hopefully he’s left the store but unfortunately it’s around that time that kyle has a couple walk up to him asking him if he’s free for a drop in consultation. before he agrees he checks in with a gentle “you alright if i take this appointment, yeah? come straight back if that guy is still hanging around. i’ll deal with him.” he looks so serious you believe him. you reassure him that you’ll be fine and he gives your arm a gentle squeeze before you separate from his warmth already missing the slightly woody scent of his cologne. before you’re completely out of earshot you hear the couple cooing over how cute kyle was with you and his reply of “well, it’s not exactly hard when she’s one of my favourite colleagues…” and the fondness in his voice makes your cheeks heat up. 

-

johnny nearly trips over you as you’re crouched behind the paint desk. “steamin’ jesus, what’re ya daein’ under there hen?” you hush him quickly and silently with a finger raised to your lips. you don’t want to speak because you know the giant is still out there looking for you, you thought you’d given him the slip near the paint brushes but then he’d rounded the end of the aisle so you darted for the relative safety of the paint desk. johnny crouches down next to you and whispers “are we hidin’ from someone? is it simon?” you shake your head and go to answer him but then your blood runs cold as you hear that familiar accented voice. “excuse me? i was wondering if you might help, i’m looking for the fräulein who was helping me?” johnny shoots a look at you and you squish yourself further into the corner of the desk hoping against hope that johnny won’t give you away. thankfully, johnny straightens up from behind the desk with his most charming customer service grin “sorry pal, i’ve no’ seen her. ‘s only me on the desk the day.” the creep sounds nonplussed at johnny’s thick glaswegian accent (you’ve certainly never heard it ramped up like that in all the times you’ve spoken with him) and a little crestfallen when he starts to reply with “oh, perhaps you’d be good enough to -” johnny interrupts him, voice still pitched in a friendly manner but you can hear an undercurrent of tension “naw, sorry pal. i’m busy pitin’ the hems oan the tins. is there anythin’ i can dae fer ye mixin’ wise?” there’s a moment of silence and you watch johnny’s smile slowly slip off his face, his lips thinning into a stern line. “ah, um. no thank you. perhaps she will find me.” the creep sounds a little nervous now if the uncomfortable laugh he lets out is any indication. “aye right. well i’d best be lettin’ you get oan then eh?” johnny shifts on his feet slightly so his calf brushes up against your arm. after another tense moment you hear the lumbering footsteps of the giant move away from the desk. johnny looks down at you with a mischievous grin, “i’ve got to say bonnie girl, you look a right sight down there.” you only feel a little bit bad when you punch him lightly in the leg and he yelps in shock as the blush on your cheeks spreads down your neck. 

-

simon is less than impressed when you duck under the chain across the warehouse doors and flatten yourself against the noticeboard out of view from the shop floor. “you stupid? chains up which means the forklift is out so you need to be too.” he’s pissed off and thinking about how much paperwork he’ll have to fill out now because you didn’t bother to think about the cameras in your dash for safety. he takes a big step towards you before swerving off to the side to block the customer that has just appeared at the chain. “the fuck do you want?” he practically snarls. ‘this isn’t the fucking caff.” simon squares his shoulders and glares at the oversized dickhead that’s wasting his time. “well? can’t you fuckin’ read? staff access only. and you’re not staff so fuck off.” simon barks at the man, not letting him get a word in edgewise to start bitching about stock or whatever it is that he wants. simon couldn’t give a shit, he just wants the customer (and you) to fuck off promptly so he can start moving pallettes around. the customer just blinks and takes several steps back before turning away. you let out a shaky sigh and thank simon quietly. simon hums in acknowledgement and sweeps a critical eye down your lightly trembling form. “he botherin’ ya?” at your nod he hums again before jerking his head towards the back of the warehouse “go put a hi-vis on and sit in the office, i’ll come get you when i’m done on the ‘lift.”. when simon comes back into the office two paper cups of tea in hand thirty minutes later, you offer him a small smile and catch his lips twitch up briefly before he turns away to plunk his cup down on top of a cluttered filing cabinet. 

-

price practically walks into you as you come flying around the end of the plumbing aisle. it’s unusual to see you so far away from the customer service desk and looking so flustered. “alright, love?” his hand is on your elbow as he asks. you crane your neck round to look behind you, too worried about that customer to enjoy his large warm hand on your bare skin. price straightens up and drops his hand away from you when he spots a customer behind you, in his opinion the customer is moving a little too fast to be considered casual. price bristles slightly when he catches the dark look on the gentleman’s face. oh no, he doesn’t like the look of this one at all. especially when you look at price and mouth “help” quickly. price steps forward and puts you at his back, blocking the creep from getting any closer. “can i help you, mate?” his gruff voice is just shy of sounding friendly and you watch his back muscles shift under the black polo top he’s wearing. “no thank you, i wanted to speak with the little woman some more.” god the customer is weird, you shudder a little at being referred to as a “little woman”. price shifts to block the customer’s view of you more fully as he does you notice the back of price’s neck has gone a little red. “not possible. i need her for a job.” price’s words sound like they’re being ground out through gritted teeth in response. “i’m sure simon would be more than willing to help you.” you jolt a little when you spot simon at the customer’s shoulder. a man shouldn’t be able to move so silently in steel toed safety boots. you catch a brief wince flicker across the customer’s face when simon’s hand comes down on his shoulder, slightly too hard to be entirely polite. “ah, um, yes. perhaps that’s for the best.” simon leads the customer away and you step up beside price to thank him. he looks deadly serious when he turns to face you “any time love.” his stern blue stare softens slightly and you’re sure you catch his gaze flicker to your mouth briefly before he clears his throat and turns away “c’mon then. back to the returns desk with you.”. 

- -

AN: i have very much hidden from customers in the warehouse and behind the paint desk at B&Q. don’t be like reader (or me) and hide in the goods-in area, you will get shouted at for it. 

translation for johnny’s scots: “pitin’ the hems oan” = putting the hems on, meaning to put something in order or to restrain something/someone.

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

Gossip: knight!price x princess!reader

The joust had been such a horrible mistake and you were paying the consequences, even if it was your mother’s idea.

The fact that your mother had started up another round of trying to find you a suitor added to a growing anxiety that hadn’t left you since you turned of age to get married. It made everything harder; your studies, your mood and everything else suffered and on top of it the joust added more to it.

You didn’t care for any of the lords who had competed that day, especially the one who had practically begged you for a gift that you felt pressured into it. Neither of them were particularly good men, you knew how much they jumped around from woman to woman from your ladies in waiting, and they only sought after you because you were a princess.

They didn’t like anything about you, saw you only as a pet or a prize to win to make themselves look better because they didn’t know you.

They would never know you so they would much rather beat on each other in the name of winning you over, when you would never watch it willingly.

“The captain is back to training today.” You heard your ladies in waiting behind you and you frowned. “I havent seen him in action yet.”

That was another reason why the joust had caused issues.

For the past week Sir John Price had been the talk of the court. He was the best knight in the kingdom, everyone knew it, but he had never performed in front of others, only fought in battles. His performance brought an uproar of affection towards him but you couldn’t see it.

What good was senseless violence? Especially in the name to impress you, as if you wanted to see people hurt each other for your entertainment.

You wanted to be impressed but you just couldn’t. It looked bad on him, the violence for sport rather than need, it was beneath him in your opinion.

He was much more refined than that. Much more chivalrous and mature, which is why you couldn’t hold your tongue.

Barbaric may have been a little harsh but you didn’t like to see him act in such a manner.

For some reason you didn’t want him to be like everyone else, you wanted him to be different.

“He trains the other knights so well.” Another lady swooned and you rolled your eyes.

You couldn’t escape him, not when you wanted to leave the castle to find alone time and now when he was gone. It was like he was tormenting you without him being here.

“And he’s incredibly disciplined.” One do your ladies in waiting, Katherine, said and you clenched your jaw.

Katherine was one of your closest friends so you knew that she was fond of your knight for a couple months now. She was beautiful and very high in nobility but she was well within the range that Sir John could marry her if he was interested in that.

They could be wed as soon as they both deemed it the right time, if he showed interest, and they’d be the most beautiful couple in the court.

The thought made your chest oddly tighten.

“Katherine, if Sir John were to propose to you tomorrow, would you accept?” You wondered and she immediately became flustered.

“Well…I think I’d ask him to court me first but I wouldn’t say no.” She explained and you hummed.

Would she say that if she knew him as well as you did? If she spent so many hours of her day with him as he stubbornly refused to give you space or become irritated when you teased him too much?

It shouldn’t matter to you. If they wanted to be together, they should be together. It wasn’t like you could marry a knight and it wasn’t like you wanted Sir John Price specifically.

Yet the thought…the thought hurt.

“You should speak to him soon, then.” You suggested with poise.

“Your highness, you flatter me.” She laughed and you smiled. “He’s married to his sword and his oath to you, to get in the way of that would be a disservice to the crown.”

“I implore you to please take him off my hands.”

You all laughed together and tried your best to ignore the rest of the conversation about him until you parted ways with the ladies.

For once you managed to get into the garden by yourself and though the idea of running into the nearby forest crossed your mind you didn’t moved from your spot in front of the pond.

Your mind was plagued with problems. The Queen’s pressure for you to get married, the countless suitors who treated you like an object, your lack of freedom, the weight of the crown and the country on your shoulders, the fact that your mother had told you she was the one going to choose your next suitor with or without your input.

Your life had never been in your hands but now it was being played with by everyone else.

And now the added grief of Sir John Price being married? Why did it bother you so much…?

“Should I be worried you’re still here?” Price’s voice caught your attention.

“Worry if you must, I’m just thinking.” You told him absentmindedly without looking at him.

He was worried. He had noticed the entire week that you had been more quiet and reflective than usual. He noticed the way your brow was constantly knitted and the way, despite the many years of practiced etiquette, you digested with your hands.

You were anxious and stressed, and while you were able to hide it from everyone else, he saw it. He had a few thoughts about what it may be but he never voiced it.

“You and Lady Katherine,” you said and he raised an eyebrow.

“What about her?” He wondered and you eyed him carefully.

“Tell me what you think of her.”

Price have you a confused look. He didn’t think about her, not really. Of course he was polite to her and had spoken to her on many occasions but it was never anything he would call personal.

Was she becoming an issue? Did he need to step in on behalf of the crown?

“Not much.” He said truthfully and regretfully that gave you some relief. “Is everything alright between the two of you, your highness?”

“Oh yes, everything’s fine.”

You hoped that your friend would find a better man to pine over, one that would be interested in her and treat her fairly.

It cleared your mind a little mc the fact that he wasn’t interested and you were able to focus yourself better. You took a deep breath and composed yourself.

“I won’t be needing you much for the rest of the day, I’ll be in library.” You told him and he gave you a look.

“Do you expect me to believe that?” He shot back and your eyes narrowed.

“I am not in the mood for your scrutiny, take it elsewhere.”

You walked away from him without letting him argue further because you were going to spend the rest of your day in the library.

Who would ever see anything in a man like him?

A/n: had to balance it out with jealous reader lol

@deadbranch @makayla-666

[dark-fics-4-you]

possible rafe request?! rafes gf makes him mad by being too friendly at an event w wards business partners so he fucks her at the event 😈

Golden Boy

Warnings: domestic violence, noncon, toxic relationship, jealousy,

You chuckled politely, trying not to glare at the thirty-something year old man in front of you. Despite your best efforts, you couldn’t help but put a little venom in your reply, “Well, I actually do have plans outside of my boyfriend. I’m going to college right now, and I’m actually in a paid internship that I got before Rafe and I met.”

The somewhat handsome, but definitely too old to be your type, business partner, whose name you had already forgotten, gave you an annoyed look, not expecting you to respond that way to his poorly hidden dig at you not belonging at this event.

It was true, in some ways. You were far from your side of the island, and no matter how much time you put into your make up and hair or the price tags of the many expensive clothes Rafe had bought you, the Kooks could always sniff out the people who grew up with nothing.

Before he could respond though, you heard your name being called from behind. Peering past the man in front of you, you could see your boyfriend waving at you to come over to him.

You didn’t even bother telling the asshole in front of you that you were exiting the conversation, you just did, quickly returning to Rafe’s side.

“Ugh perfect timing, that guy I was just talking to was a total jerk,” you whispered in his ear as you gave him a hug.

“Baby, didn’t I tell you to try to get along with these guys?” He seemed angry and you could tell that this event was already stressing him out a lot. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides and everything about him was somewhat jittery, like he wasn’t in his right mind.

“I mean, you know I need to look good in front of them while my Dad’s watching. It means a lot to him.” You looked into his eyes at his words and noticed two things. One, Rafe said it meant a lot to his dad, but you knew it was more about how how much it meant to him. And two, his pupils were much wider than they should have been.

Rafe had obviously done some coke before tonight, trying to calm his nerves and give him some confidence, but it was only doing the opposite.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to make you look bad, but I don’t think it’s fair that I can’t defend myself in front of the people here who are looking down on me.” You shot back at him, annoyed for more reasons than one. “I’m being polite to them, but it would probably be easier for me if you were by my side to stop them from being so rude to me.”

You lowered your voice before speaking again, “And also… I don’t think you should be doing so much coke right now.”

Rafe’s burning glare alone was enough to make you regret saying anything, the return of his tight grip on your arm was just a sick formality at this point, reminding you of the previous bruise he had left in that same spot that you had to cover with makeup for this event.

After being with your boyfriend for so long, you knew the lengths he would go to when he felt personally wronged.

You learned very early on that Rafe was never one to hold back on his verbal abuse, and his physical abuse was no different, although he always tried to keep both incredibly private due to the damage that could come to the Cameron name if it ever came out that Ward’s son, the golden boy, was hitting his girlfriend.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, Rafe. I just care for you, that’s all. I promise I’ll be polite to your dad’s friends.” Your meager apology seemed to be good enough for the moment, and your boyfriend gave you a silent nod after staring at you for several unnerving seconds.

“Be polite, don’t share your opinion, and just keep your mouth shut for the most part. Let them talk about themselves, and they’ll probably think it was the best conversation they’ve had all day.” Rafe grumbled, but his mood improved when he tilted your head up, pressing his lips to yours, large hand still resting under your chin. You kissed him back for what you thought was an appropriate amount of time, but when you tried to pull away, he held you in place, tightly wrapping an arm around your waist and forcing you to kiss him back.

By the time he released you, you pulled away to see several people staring at the two of you, and you felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

Rafe was always doing things like that in public when he felt like other men were threatening your relationship, he always needed to prove himself and stake his claim on you. Let everyone there know that you belonged to him.

“Remember what I said sweetheart. Just try to act like you belong here.” He smirked at his obvious jab at the very thing you felt the most self conscious about right now, before he calmly turned heel, approaching another group of stuffy, rich assholes across the large room.

Your huff of frustration must have been loud enough to be heard by someone standing near you, and you nearly jumped out of your skin when you felt a tap on your shoulder.

To your surprise, when you turned around you were greeted by a man who looked to be about your age.

“You’re Y/N, right?” He held out his hand, which you grabbed, giving him a firm handshake, just like Rafe had taught you.

“Yes I am, although I’m not quite sure if we have met before?” You lightheartedly responded.

“Ah, my apologies, you haven’t, I’m James, I work with your boyfriend at Cameron Development. He’s honestly a blast,” the man, James apparently, chuckled as he recalled several stories of work assignments with Rafe. This led to the two of you exchanging several funny work and college tales.

Despite never having met James before, you felt an instant chemistry with him, nothing romantic at all, of course, but you found him very easy to talk to, and to your surprise, after glancing at your watch, you realized that the two of you had been chatting for nearly 25 minutes!

At this realization, your blood instantly ran cold. Where was Rafe? Why hadn’t he checked on you? Had he seen you talking to the same guy for nearly half an hour, clearly enjoying yourself the entire conversation?

As if he could tell that you were thinking of him, Rafe suddenly appeared several yards away from where your conversation with James was taking place. There was a scowl on his face, and you could tell by the way he was advancing on you that he was pissed.

“Hey, Y/N, why don’t I give you my number, just so you have it?” James innocently asked, completely unaware of the anxiety coursing through your veins and the fact that your boyfriend was in earshot, pushing through the small crowd behind him to reach you.

Before you could even open your mouth to politely decline, Rafe was speaking for you, “She’s not interested.”

You didn’t have time to say goodbye, because your boyfriend was dragging you away from your new friend, his grip harshly digging in to your bruised arm.

“What the fuck did I tell you, Y/N?” His voice was even and calculated, but he couldn’t hide the rage simmering beneath the surface.

“You told me to-”

“I told you to get along with them, not to try to get into their pants.” Rafe growled, pushing you into the closest room with a door he could find, which happened to be Ward’s office. You landed on the carpeted floor, wincing in pain when your elbow absorbed most of the fall.

“Rafe, I promise, I was just having a good conversation.” Your voice was beginning to waver, the weight of the situation that you had found yourself in was beginning to sink in. “He’s your coworker, is it so wrong that I talked to him?”

“Stop lying! I know what I saw! You would have to be an idiot to not realize that he’s trying to fuck you too.” You would have been worried that someone could hear your boyfriend berating you, had it not been for the music playing throughout the house, and the thick walls of Ward’s study.

You realized how sad it was that you only knew that because Rafe had now loudly hurled insults at you in every room in the house he could at this point.

The blond stalked towards you, grabbing you by the wrist and yanking you upright. “I mean, did you seriously think I wouldn’t notice? You think that little of me, Y/N?”

“Rafe no, I-”

You felt the air in your lungs disappear as your head snapped to the side, a sharp pain in your cheek blossoming across the now reddened skin.

“You don’t get to talk back to me right now!” Your boyfriend yelled in your face. You had barely processed his slap when you felt him moving you again, although now you felt much more numb.

Numb to Rafe roughly manhandling you before he bent you over his father’s desk, numb to the feeling of the cold, hard wood on your face as Rafe held you down, numb to the feeling of him pushing your fancy dress up and rudely yanking down your panties before harshly pushing two fingers inside you, and numb to the tears that were now spilling onto Ward’s desk.

“Such a fucking slut! You’re soaked,” he darkly chuckled, but there was no hint of humor in his voice. “Is this all for me, or is it for James?” He bitterly wondered aloud, and when you didn’t give him a response fast enough, you cried out at the feeling of him smacking your ass.

“F-for you, Rafe,” you choked out through your tears.

You could hear him removing his belt, the sound of it hitting the floor was enough to trigger your body to begin quaking with fear and anxiety.

“Aw baby,” he cooed, and you flinched when you felt his fingers in your hair, lightly brushing some of it out of your eyes so he could look at you. “Don’t act so scared. I promise I’m not going to hurt you. Well, at least, not until after the party’s over.”

His laughter made you feel sick, but even worse was the shock you felt when Rafe spread your pussy and sheathed himself inside of you without warning.

You saw stars for a few moments, the surprise catching you off guard and he was able to slide deeper into your tight walls.

“Rafe!” You gasped, unable to fight back, as your arms were pinned beneath you, and your boyfriend’s large chest prevented you from moving.

His fingers tangled into your hair, gripping a handful tightly as he pushed your face into the desk. His hips were snapping against your ass, fucking you harder whenever you futilely tried to break from his hold.

Every time you tried to escape mentally, to tear yourself from the reality of what your boyfriend was doing to you, he brought you back, snapping his fingers or groaning your name into your ear as he forced himself deeper into your wet cunt.

You were sure that your hips would be bruised from bumping into Ward’s desk as Rafe fucked you against your will. Another reminder of all the lessons he insisted that he had to teach you by force.

Every sharp thrust was a warning that this was him holding back. This was him being nice. And you knew better than to further aggravate Rafe when he was on a power trip.

And that was exactly what this was all about. The power and privilege that Rafe held over you, that he used to hurt you time and time again, without ever facing any real consequences. This was about reminding you that you belonged to him and at the end of the day, Rafe Cameron was untouchable and unstoppable, the Kook King, the golden boy of one of the richest families in the Outer Banks.

“You are my girlfriend, Y/N,” Rafe growled. “It’s time you started fucking acting like it.”

[ms-demeanor]

Hey! I appreciate your perspective on computer-based things. I think I need to get a laptop and would love your opinion on decent brands. If you don't have an opinion or want to answer please disregard the q.

Context: I'm often on the move and really want something small, light, and that will last a long time. I'm bad about buying new things or taking things to be fixed so ideally it's not something that dies quickly or needs frequent repairs. For a while I used an iPad for this but I need more of a keyboard than tablets have and the shelf life of an iPad is shorter than it should be for the cost. Mine is 7 years old and only works while plugged in... I liked my Macbook Pro I got for college but it's almost 15 years old and given I haven't needed a new one since I don't think spending all that on a Mac makes sense either. I use a gaming PC mostly but I'm going to need to travel a lot more in the upcoming year. I'm ok to spend up a bit since I want it to last.

I think you're going to have to adjust your expectations about the average functional lifespan of electronics. Seven years is a lot to get out of any tablet and fifteen years is way way way above average for a computer.

At work we estimate that the functional lifespan of a laptop will be around five years and the functional life of a desktop will be around seven years; we include upgrades in that lifespan, like adding RAM and storage.

It is not *unusual* to get more than five years out of a laptop or seven years out of a desktop, but if you are a heavy user of anything other than a browser and a word processor, that's about the time when you'll find that the computer feels slow enough to be frustrating. This isn't a hard limit, and it's not something that everyone experiences because people use computers differently, but if you're an artist and you use a drawing program that program will start to feel slow after a while because as updates and patches and drivers have been tweaked for newer devices they've slowly left your device in the dust.

This isn't planned obsolescence, by the way. Computer manufacturers try to "future proof" their devices to a certain extent, but you just can't anticipate certain kinds of changes. Maybe your laptop was manufactured before there were consumer SSDs available so its operating system doesn't take the advantages and limitations of SSDs into account. Maybe your desktop was built for DDR3 RAM and we're now on DDR5 and people aren't writing programs to the standard of the old technology, they're taking advantage of the standards of the new technology.

Since you were able to use your devices comfortably for such a long time, it sounds like you're not a very heavy user and don't need to worry too much about beefing up your specs. However it does sound like you want to keep your computer and use it as long as possible while paying a reasonable price for it (which is good! I think we should all try to extend the lives of our electronic devices as much as possible!).

I actually think you sound like a good match for a Framework laptop.

Framework is a company that makes laptops that are a lot more modular than what's on the market these days. They're mean to be easy to open up for upgrades and sturdy for heavy use. Most of the parts of the laptop are easily replaceable - including the screen - so you can use them for a long time and easily make upgrades that will help the computer feel fresher.

They're a bit more expensive than comparable PCs but much easier to repair if you aren't comfortable opening up your own computer (framework is intentionally built to be easy for people who are non-technical to work on their computers), and they are a LOT less expensive than comparable macs.

I still think you're probably looking at around 7 years of regular use out of a Framework and it won't *break* at that point, it will just. Probably be a bit slow and frustrating. You might not be able to get parts for it after a certain point. You eventually won't be able to upgrade the OS. But that's true of all computers.

I've still got my 2005 macbook. It still turns on, I can still use garage band on it. But it doesn't connect to the internet and uses such an old USB standard that it is extremely slow to transfer data on or off of and it cries and freezes if i try to use photoshop. It's not broken, it's just no longer useful as a daily computer.

What I'm defining as functional here is "Is able to run multiple programs (including at least one browser with 50+ tabs open and two office suites) at the same time for 8-10 hours a day without crashing, freezing, or losing data and restarting is not a major inconvenience."

In those terms, it does sound like you're probably in need of an upgrade (I can't imagine that your current machine is particularly quick) and I think that a framework laptop would suit your needs well.

If you're looking for something somewhat less expensive, you can generally find a decent thinkbook with a 12th or 13th gen i5 processor, 16GB RAM, and a 500GB SSD for around $700-ish, which is the low end of what I think you're going to pay for a decent laptop. I'm reccing lenovo here because I personally like them and have found them to be very easy to crack open for repairs and upgrades. Stick to the thinkbook over the thinkpad because that's the business line and is a bit sturdier and they are designed to be easier to upgrade over time.

Actually, here's a thinkbook with a 12th gen i5, 40GB RAM, and a 1tb SSD for under $700. That's a shockingly good price for that laptop; the reseller OEMGenuine is one I've purchased from many times before for work and I've found them to be reliable, though the reason those specs are so good is because they've added aftermarket parts, so your RAM and SSD won't be under warranty from Lenovo.

For Framework you're looking at at least $1000, but it's easy to plug and play with upgrades so you can start out with lower specs (except processor, don't cheap out on the processor) and upgrade later. The framework is a bit smaller and easier to travel with, but I have a laptop quite similar to the lenovo and it's not a huge pain to move around - it's very light but the 15" screen might be bigger than you're looking for.

If you're willing to spend a little bit more and you're very uninterested in doing your own upgrades and would prefer the most computer you can get for your money right out of the gate, this is a 12th gen i7 thinkpad with 40GB RAM and a 2TB SSD for $1150. (I've not ordered from this reseller before, so maybe check over their terms if you're considering purchasing from them.)

[shawtythatluvsurgut]

gunna have a video of me feeding my feedee up on my onlyfans soon. i’m thinking about starting it back up while i take a break from college because it was kind of empowering to get to own my kink in such a way. I also enjoy sharing that side of myself with all of you. subscription price will be between $8-$10/mo since my feedee is going to be collaborating with me on certain pieces of content. i will maybe begin gaining again once i get my health back in check, we’ll see. i want my muscle mommy build back, and to get that back i’ll have to pack on some weight. so we’ll see what happens with that. ;)

in the meantime and between-time, stay safe. especially on the internet. all of my old rules still apply for messaging me, but i will gradually get back to making regular content and posts. now that i am taking a break from school, i’m working more, but I also have free time on my hands when i’m not working. it feels really nice to get back into the swing of things. I’ve missed you all and I’ve missed the positive aspects of this community.

going forward, i’m just going to block people who talk shit to me or delete their comments (unless it’s of actual importance to discuss). i’m just done engaging with that shit. idk, i’m on new medication that seem to be actually working and i feel stable, so i feel ready to re-embrace this community with open arms.

a special thank you to everyone who continued engaging with me and communicating with me during my break. i appreciate all of your kind words more than you know, and if i didn’t respond to you it was because i didn’t want the answer to “hey how are you?” to be “i’m miserable. how are you?”. but I saw all of you - each and every message, comment, text, etc. - and i just want to say thank you. the people who still proceeded to message me with positivity are the reason I have decided I want to come back.

With all that being said, I hope you will all accept me back. I understand that some of you were upset that I left and didn’t understand my reasonings, but I hope we can reconcile our differences and i can gain your trust again. I’m not the angry person that I became when responding to hate messages, and that also influenced my time away. I could see that my demeanor on this hellsite was changing and I was getting more upset, angry and, honestly, afraid of going on here (let alone posting myself on here). However, that has changed. I’ve been working on being more optimistic and caring less about the negative opinions of others. Frankly, if someone doesn’t like me or my content they should just be an adult about it and either reach out to discuss that or ignore me. If they can’t do that, I believe they are childish and need to get a grip. There are some key things I’ve learned in life that I want to share with people who are as I described above:

- your comfort is not someone else’s responsibility. if it makes you uncomfortable, then don’t engage. It’s as simple as that.

- no one has to cater to your interests. everyone lives on their own agenda. your wants and desires do not take priority over the wants and desires of others. sure, there are some people who will cater to your every wish, but i’m definitely not one of them.

- similarly to above, your desires do not take priority over someone’s health. that includes both mental health and physical health. (death feedism is a thing if you are interested in someone wanting to gain while not caring about their health. this is not a death feedism page and i suggest you go search in the tags for that if it is what you are looking for. I do not want to kill my feedee, nor do I want him or I to gain enough weight to become immobile or at risk in any way. As hot as the idea is to me at times, we are both too active and work in active careers for that to be a realistic possibility for us. maybe someday i’ll get a stay at home job and get really big, or maybe someday he will. only time can tell. sorry for the length, i’m high. i’ll stfu now.

- people don’t care. no stranger online owes it to you to care that you don’t like their body, or that you don’t like this or that. it doesn’t matter because that person does not know you. there’s no point in wasting time caring about your negative comment unless it’s actually useful and constructive commentary.

So anyways, i’m back in business again. gonna post some FA art soon + start uploading to my OF again. I thank any of you who read this far and again I hope you can accept me back into the community.

Thanks,

Nico

[roznnreads]

Chosen not Fated Chapter 1

Eris x Fem!Reader

Tags: marriage of convenience, rhysand slander, depression, suicidal ideation

Summary: Tired of a life in the shadow among the inner circle, Rhysand’s younger sister decides to take her life into her own hands and makes a desperate grab for power.

Chapter Summary: After the battle is won the depression hits

a/n: writing this instead of uni coursework

last part, next part

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Inner Circle keeps to themselves. They are a reclusive group that rarely allows new people into their lives, let alone into their hearts. 

But even within the Inner Circle I felt separate, They found companionship with each other. My Brother, Azriel, Cassian and Amern, They could rely on each other,  yet here I am sitting at the dinner table in silence eating my food, surrounded by the loud illyrians. My mate, although brought into the circle through me, was suited to them better than I ever was. 

The war was won, the humans were pushed back to their land and a barrier was created, keeping the faerie and human races separate forever. Treaties forged and signed, a promise for peace that should last centuries

I should be celebrating, I should be happy. I am empty. My soul has been torn in two. We were to be married after the War was won, we were waiting for peace, for a chance to breathe, to make our love a celebration of being alive, of seeing another day. If he was here I would have someone to talk to at dinner, to make it seem like I am just like them.

“Do you think the treaty will last?” said Amren piercing through the noise

“I hope so, If anything it will last through many human lives so they won’t have the same knowledge as they do now, for us anything is possible.” replied Rhysand

“So we are never going to be done with war,” I say quietly, my throat hurts from the crying. 

“We are immortal, war comes with the the price of life”, Rhys sighed “I can’t know what you are going through, but I am truly sorry, but there is nothing that can be done”

My chair scraped against the floor, I stood abruptly.

“Excuse me”, I state, leaving the dinner hall. I walk slowly out of the room with careful consideration, once out of sight of the circle I run down the hall, to my chambers.

The large room full of ornate furniture and sweeping bookshelves was situated high above the city of Velaris, a darling view. All I can see is memories of my love, from the books he had gifted me, to his side of the bed that was left unmade. 

I can’t bare to sleep in the bed without him, to smell him and know that he will never lie his head on the pillow and hold me as I fall asleep. 

I wish I could fly, to gasp the cool fresh air, to feel nothing around me. To get away from it all.I walk towards the balcony’s edge grasping the fence. If I jumped from the balcony right now I would not feel the air pick me up, only the hard ground would find me. Maybe that would be the better outcome, to join him.

No. 

If I am to join him it shall be by another's hand, just like he was. In battle would be nice, then for certain I could be with him in whatever afterlife awaits us, me. 

Perhaps we don’t have an afterlife, what would be another eternity, would it be like our lives now, maybe this is the afterlife, where one lives forever and to die in battle grants you a new one. 

I lie in our… my bed. I clutch the bedsheets that would hold him, they’ve gone cold from disuse. I can’t cry, I have no more tears left in me. 

I need a purpose, I need something to spend my days, a distraction. It would feel wrong to find a lover to occupy my days, knowing my one love is gone. Maybe a friend perhaps, to share thoughts and opinions, to visit - on occasion.

A friend. I need someone not of this court. Someone who cannot be bought out or manipulated by the circle, someone who could not be persuaded to report back to Rhysand about our dalliances, someone powerful. 

[buterccup]

Okay so what about the 141 reaction to the M!Reader full blown laughing while fighting Ghost and when someone asks about it later the M!Reader says how it's because he's fought worst.

I hope this is what you asked and if it isn't then I'm always happy to rewrite the request, and I hope you enjoyed it! Thank you for the request as well!! (If only I could find a gif with them all)

Sparring with THE Ghost

Summary: You somehow convinced Ghost to fight you but you couldn't help but laugh during your fight with Ghost which did get a reasonable reaction for your boys.

Warnings: swearing, normal CoD violence(?) (Other than that I don't think there is a lot)

Character(s): Task force 141 x Male! Reader

FEM ALIGNED DNI

You were rethinking your life decisions. Somehow you got your 6'4 Lieutenant to spar with you. And now you found yourself in front of Ghost in a clearer area while the rest of 141 watched from the side, partially worried for you and came in case you got your ass handed to you but also for support.

Of course, you weren't the weakest but Ghost turned you down many times before for a reason but soon got sick of you pestering him and soon got curious if you would do well.

"Are you sure about this?"

"Of course." Hell no. Why did you say that?!

Before you could shout at yourself Ghost let out a grunt before getting into position, giving you a look, making you let out a little laugh before getting into a stance.

Price then stood at the side, yelling out the go-ahead. While you said a little prayer before seeing Ghost move closer to your right side making you sidestep and lunge at him. The voice in your head screamed at how well you were doing until you felt a sharp nudge at your side make you cry internally.

The side elbow from Ghost made you lose your balance but fortunately, you quickly regained it with a stumble. This made you relax your nerves but nut until you saw Ghost in the side of your eye causing you to bend one of your legs and dodged Ghost attack.

And if Ghost was going to be honest that impressed him but that didn't stop the Lieutenant from kicking your leg from under you once you got up and tried to punch him.

But before Ghost could do anything else a small snicker left your mouth before a full-blown laughing fit started to leave you.

"Uh...[c/n]? You okay?" Gaz would call out to you as you wiped small tears from your eyes. Your laughter never seeming to end as you tried to continue sparring with Ghost.

"Maybe we should stop..."

"Wha--ha- No! I'm- Haha! I'm okay!

"[Name]-"

"PFFT-"

"Ghost are you sure you didn't hit him too hard??"

Soap just looked at you concerned but still have a smile on his face. But once he felt a nudge from Gaz with a look saying they both had to stop you.

Meanwhile, Ghost just stared at you like he stared at soap and at Alejandro through the rear-view mirror back in Las Almas, a small chuckle leaving him as he watch you try to tackle him.

Price on the other hand just groaned and rubbed his temples as he went to light a cigar as he watched Gaz and Soap drag your laughing figure away from Ghost.

It had been a couple minutes after the little 'sparring' session with Ghost and your boys were still wondering what happened while you were getting yourself a drink while Price sat somewhere near you with Gaz, screaming at yourself in your head until you heard Soap's voice making you turn around.

"Sooo, [c/n] what was with that whole laughing thing earlier." He would ask, with a smile. Not trying to make you feel bad about what happened while Gaz made a gesture with his hand for Soap to stop.

You just let out a sigh as you leaned onto the counter.

"I fought so badly.."

"Ahh- Mate it's okay!"

"Ohh, don't worry about that-"

"He fought quite well in my opinion.." Ghost would then say out of nowhere making everyone look at him wide-eyed.

"GHOST-"

Requests: Closed

[skippyv20]

Long read, apologies for any grammar errors

This hysteria is getting out of control and is making the anti Sussex look somewhat deranged to an outsider. I’m just what I’m seeing and trying to bring the volume down.

I’ve seen Nigerians being called all kinds of things as being backwards as a result of practicing an unfounded vicious rumor of bestiality on females, when gender surgeries on childfen are on high demand in the west.

They’re are called corrupt, the poorest country in the world, no running water, electricity, kidnappings when human trafficking is on a large scale in the west, less we forget Epstein, Andrew and the other elites and lower elites. Epstein allegedly viciously SAed over 300 young girls. There’s a huge list of missing kids and adults in West? Where did they all go?

Yes, Nigeria like every other country needs help and by God’s grace the lord’s riches will solve all this unnecessary poverty wherever it exits.

Now, Meg’s 43% Nig, and as a Nigerian, I don’t believe, though I’ve gone to Nairaland to get peoples opinions on this visit and her so called heritage. People are more pro her, though there are some detractors with somr sense, though they easily drown them.

Her alleged new heritage is not a battle that a Caucasian will win. It’s best for Nigerians to believe whatever, and it explains how amongst other reason, colonization was easily done. It’s sad that some of my people can be got. People see a black, African, biracial in power and think they’ll be good for black folks. It’s one of the biggest scams in the world and black folks haven’t learned.

I didn’t really articulate myself on why Caucasians should stay out of this. It’s sort of a complex issue. I understand the Caucasians pov, but it’s up to Nigerians to accept it. Has anyone really seen that so called DNA? I have never heard anyone ask? It’s very impossible for a biracial to be 43% N, unless she has a one parent from Nigeria.

It tells a lot: Sussex drops her, but Nigeria welcomes her. I’m embarrassed to be Of Nigerian descent to be honest. I love that we live in the world where we can claim anything. I am now 25 % Antartican.

Imho, the best thing, would have been for people to voice their concerns, but ignore her. That’d have been the biggest humiliation. Just like low ratings of TV shows get canceled.

Once meg, announced she was Nigerian, I knew it wouldn’t have been long for her to claim physical territory in Nigeria. The rf should’ve been waiting and anticipated this, and put those titles in abeyance, and held on to the titles of their children and just said they were sorting things out. My gut is telling that it’s too late for that. It’s like not treating an infection early to prevent amputation of the foot.

Charles on the other hand is serving what?. All I hear from thr rf is the silly nonsense about who invited whom to stay where, who couldn’t see whom, and some other nonsense. When did GB, become like this? When have they lost the courage in acting right? Where is Churchill, Baldwin?

Edward the 8th and wallis could do whatever, but then the difference was that they were no longer part of the firm, kicked out of England, and didn’t leave on their own accord and visit at anytime like harry. That was a reality check. The RF has left this rogue, evil, scheming son get this vicious, and the price to pay is very painful.

Thank you.  The rumours you hear about Nigeria don’t come from this blog or other blogs here on Tumblr.  We have one focus, and that is Harry’s wife.  I do agree that we have a difficult time understanding the love anyone has for her.  But let me be clear….the fact that she is claiming to be 43% Nigerian hits us hard. (Note an author named Georgina Lawton claimed to have her DNA done and announced she was 43% Nigerian, not saying she isn’t, but rather it explains where Harry’s wife arrived at this, as usual she steals from others, including their DNA results).  She has claimed to be part Maltese as well, because a great great grandmother lived on the island of Malta.  She has claimed to be Jewish and Catholic.  She has implied she was Canadian when in fact she is American…I could go on and on.  This is what we all take issue with.  She uses and abuses, people and places, countries, religions etc.  She has always gotten away with these lies because no one would call her out.  We have worked so hard for so many years to expose her.  Now we finally are seeing results, people see what we see.  I am in complete agreement the BRF should have stopped this long ago, I shake my head as to why they have not.  I do appreciate all you have said, and again I will ponder.❤️

[plasticfangtastic]

American Royalty. Ch. 10

A Homelander X F! Reader/Dadlander fanfic.

A/N: sorry for the delay, I wrote another fic and that ate my time, hope y'all like the chapter, there's only 3 chapters left and the epilogue and now that kinktober its done I should be able to post the remaining chapters on time, if ya like to be on the taglist plz leave a comment with a request. prev. chapter here:

Tags: mild gore, angst, slow burn, fluff, oc characthers, child neglect, dadlander, romance, some spicy and murder.

Chapter Ten

Reconsidering

A lavish prison.

More rooms than ideas to fill them with– mere latrines for kisch. 

Floors that screamed ugly opulence, the kind that made you yearn for the simplicity of owning nothing, of forced minimalism... or tasteful decor.

When you cracked your neck to witness the enormity of the seven story mansion (not counting the cellar basement and the terrace) the price tag had frightened you to the core more than the height, making you feel more than inadequate in visitation, as you had come in jeans and an ironic t-shirt to accompany him (not that you had a choice)--  as Homelander pulled you around from floor to floor, forcing you to walk alongside him from beige rooms to white rooms, past rich dark wood doors. So heavy they hurt your wrist, you worried for your future.

These were the things you could only witness in pictures.

“I hate the carpet.” He said coyly, trying to stand close to you without frightening you.

Looking down at the rug you’ve taken your shoes off for-- it was luxurious, it was nice for the somewhat dark library, the smell of curated cedar and walnut genuinely intoxicating. From a second glance it matched his taste in your mind, but you guess he was a lot more finicky than he already was– perhaps it wasn’t soft enough for him, you thought.

“I'd rather we just have the floors bare– it’ll be easier to clean.”

“Concerned about the maids already?”

“Maids?”

“Honey, you don’t think I expect you to clean this thing by yourself?” He gave you a playful pat in the back– even with superspeed you’ll wear yourself out…”

The real estate agent who kept rubbernecking at your direction, raised his eyebrow as he saw how stiff you were next to your fiance.

Pressing yourself against the aged stone of the terrace fence, the city seemed so far away as you looked down from so high up, wondering if you could fall quick enough, if he would catch you right on time or make it easy for himself and play the tragic broken hearted hero. The cold breeze kissed your temples as you processed the jarring passage of time.

Kaleem, his wife Alessia and your co-worker Chrissie dropped what they were doing when you broke the news that you’ve gotten engaged, they’ve already gotten it from the breaking news report and online but actually hearing it out of your mouth cemented it, it wasn’t a lookalike sharing your name marrying Homelander! But you! Their hardworking and worn out cook. 

Who never once mentioned him before, who never described your baby daddy, who gave no hints… yet to them who thought were your friends–if not confidants, felt betrayed.

They were friends of yours but the fear of Homelander’s and Vought had been so great you never wanted to disclose who’s Helena’s father was to anybody, they had formed very strong opinions over the time they’ve known you but at the sight of half a dozen black suits entering their pizza shop– you probably would have never been able to tell them on your terms, anyways.

 You had no choice now but to divulge.

After having been made to lose a day’s work and being informed they would have to agree to some sketchy stuff regarding selling your situation to the public, you owed them an explanation– at least the financial compensation for their cooperation was generous.

Right now you were a stranger.

You told a version of your story, adding to what they already knew, like everybody else their image of Homelander was firmly cemented after 20 years of exposure to the bastard, it was hard to view ‘The Nation’s Favorite Dad’ was the one who threw you on the streets, nobody spoke much while you melted into the booth, your sight so far away, as the light’s buzz drilled into your brain.

“Is the dick at least good?” Chrissie slurped loudly on her coke– I mean go get your bag bitch, just don’t let him make you sign a prenup and when you get divorce take half his shit.”

“Slightly above mid… his mouth tho…” You did smile there.

“Is it little?” 

“I wish… shit hurts. Can’t sit straight afterwards... he's just so quick! Thank god his mouth isn't just good at speeches” You chuckle dryly.

Chrissie began spacing her fingers until you rolled your eyes in embarrassment, poor Kaleem sat in his corner pretending to be blind.

You both shared an ugly snorting laugh, cackling from the absurdity of the situation.

“You wouldn’t be the first woman to marry for benefits– trust me I seen a lot of ‘90 day fiance’ and my aunt Lucia’s been married to my uncle for 32 years– she met him a month before the wedding and only for the green card.”

“32 years?” That was dreadful.

Alessia was quite relaxed about the whole ordeal, if anything it was the most stimulating thing that had happened in recent years and seeing a six-year- old tutor her teenage son was exhilarating.

“She said he has a big dick and uncle works the night shift… works great for her– pretty sure 2 of their 7 kids are his” 

“Is this the aunt Lucia that came and did our light fixtures? I feel sorry for your uncle.” Chrissie said.

“Yes– she's happy, and don’t be… Uncle Frank may have a whole other family in Mexico, but that’s a whole other business.” She said loudly– look you had it rought, and fuck him. I thought killing the dude at that rally was a bit much, but dumping you in the streets– way worse than murder! Look, we got three kids and if this dumbass died on me– I don’t know how I would cope and if some hot rich asshole asked me to marry him… I might ‘cuz college ain't cheap.” You could laugh, watching Kaleem agreeing he would do the same if she died– Homelander is cute and has money. You said it yourself– you don’t have to love him. He’ll meet somebody else and end it, but Helena it’s your main priority here not him, and I mean after everything you’ve been thru you deserve to cruise thru life.``

“I don’t think John is going to let me fuck around…” You groaned, resting your head on your forearm as you sunk deeper– I don’t have to be happy, right?”

“It’s overrated.” Chrissie said– Helena would probably finish college by 12, and that if she takes her time.”

“Thank you guys for encouraging me in my new ‘Sugar Baby’ journey– I always knew I had it in me to be an amazing hoe.”

It wasn’t what you wanted to hear… to them who just like you had to break their backs to keep the roof over their heads, it was an enviable golden opportunity and in this economy one couldn’t really afford to miss out on such opportunities… 

“Just pretend you like him if he’s ever around, I guess.” you mention.

“It’s gonna be hard ‘cuz I like Noir more.” Chrissie says leaning across the table to pat your shoulders.

So here you were admiring the Upper East Side, in the nicest street, in a coveted building that he had every desire in the world to make you ‘Lady of the House’, it was beyond extravagant it even had an elevator… so there was some appeal.

Ashley followed him like a lap dog as he listed a billion much needed remodeling decisions to bring back the home into the office spaces by force, in case he decided to purchase the edifice.

“So you like it? This is the fifth house we’ve seen… you said you wanted a yard and space.”

“Needs more plants… is a great location…” you said softly, still looking down, pretending to not notice Ashley was writing that down too.

“But do you love it?” he pressed rubbing your shoulders– we can still get the penthouse… even if it's only four bedrooms but great open concept! Or the condo right in front of Central park– but that one is only 3 bedrooms which might tamper with our plans… although the one in 63 street, classy and it has a cinema.” 

He kissed your forehead, after speaking quickly.

“Do you love it?” You asked, fixing his hair once he got too close to you– this will be your home too.”

“Is pre-war” He whines playfully– is so pretty… the brownstone… the history…” He gives you the most pathetic attempt of ‘puppy eyes’ you’ve ever seen, a smile creeps onto your face without permission which he takes graciously– I can see us here.”

“You’re not hanging a giant american flag anywhere in this house!”

“A small one?” He pouts.

“In your office… and it better be small, John.” You rested your head on his chest– The kitchen… is awful.”

He was touchy, your skin numb to his touch at this point, he wanted to kiss you and hold you until you cherished him, but he wouldn’t force it. 

You just had to keep smiling and thwart most of his approaches, but you know if you gave him just enough affection he would be unable to notice the wicked game you were playing– forcing him to move at your dictated pace, to keep him on his toes yearning that you would turn and pamper him, never knowing if his affections were welcomed or not, but knowing you gave yours to him and he welcomed it.

You could see Ryan and Helena growing up happy, and safe. 

You and those two children sitting by the fireplace, enjoying hot chocolate and opening Christmas presents.

You would in fact not choose this house just to spite the man, who had fallen in love with his grand vision– not that the chosen house was worse, just one floor shorter, just as massive as the other and still in a great location… so Homelander didn’t complain too much… just a little.

The boxes increased but there was still so much to fill up, even with his stuff it wasn’t enough to fill the gaps… he would not spare you from the American flags, tragically as it sounds. 

At least it was framed and matched the decor of the gallery and dining room. As you unpacked and watched the movers bring the beds while the kids argued about who kept which floor– Helena demanded the fourth floor already making executive decision to turn the empty rooms into labs and  offices for her future endeavors, while Ryan wanted to be normal child and stay in the same floor as his sibling, ultimately pushed to the fifth floor after multiple rounds of rock-paper-scissors, and a paternal mediator who said they had to settled it with another round of games which sadly Ryan lost.

After a laborious day, you two just sheepishly laughed as you stared at your bedroom, both leaning against each other as you laughed, staring at the wooden cross dividing the two beds and matching nightstands– all so very circa 50’s catholic chic. 

You two just laughed about how absurd this was in execution, a part of you wished to just put the beds together instead of making your great-grandmother proud.

“Y’know we could’ve fit two kings in here…” He said while staring at the space.

“I thought you wanted me close-by.”

“Double’s were the perfect choice.” He replied quickly.

It took weeks before you reached a boiling point with your live-in situation, to see him walk around your home in that stupid suit, his mind longing for the familiarity of his abandoned penthouse was frustrating, he himself didn't expect to miss it either– He felt like a guest that refused to leave instead of your fake fiancee, this wasn’t him staying overnight at your previous domicile levels of awkward, that had been a challenge on its own, even if now you skipped the pillow walls and sleeping on the floor… God knows how many times he picked your unconscious self up from the ground and laid you to bed, while he sat next to you reading a book in the dark– this was an alien living in your house calling himself the owner. 

Before you knew it your heart stung as you dragged the two kids to the nearest Target to bulk buy the man some loungewear, both from exasperation and as request from his son who mentioned he didn’t really own much clothes, and what little he did own he didn't feel like washing every 2 days just to chill around the house... and as his future wife you gave yourself automatic permission to buy him clothes… just anything that would get him out of that suit.

Ryan had never been to many stores before, much less a Target, it hurt a tad to see him fascinated by the colorful aisles and the abundance of people…knowing he had grown in a compound, the mother in you just wanted to squeeze him and apologies for it all, but you instead just squeezed the handle bars and let him pick snacks that caught his fancy.

It was hilarious that you would find yourself doing this again– back then buying for him had been difficult, he wore very little but he liked your input, he simply wore what you told him, but after so long you had no idea what he liked anymore– this wasn’t food… this wasn’t easy… so the plainest sets were your best bet.

There was something fresh about this, as you perused the aisles with the kids in tow, thinking of buying him some jeans and clean button ups, Ryan picking up colorful socks while Helena opted to pick him a shirt just to fit in.

You had fun, you looked forward to sprousing his wardrobe, watching this scene play out made you feel as if you were normal, until somebody took your photo at the checkout in your least flattering angle.

It took another week before he opened up to being undressed and exposed in cheap pajama pants and white t-shirts, it would take three weeks for him to do so without being told to– plus enough complaints about people trying to photograph them after seeing the Homelander lounge in the terrace, served as added motivation.

You told yourself it wasn’t too bad to cohabitate, as you saw him slowly get more and more comfortable in his new environment, as you watched him become softer with your kids, as you found yourself having pleasant breakfasts, found yourself being welcomed home and conversed over coffee about your day or his day– not even bringing up his concerns about you still choosing to work in Lucci when you could do so much better too often, giving up on teasing you with buying you a restaurant, or upcoming publicity stunts when you weren’t in the mood to listen to the drivel.

Staring down from the roof garden looking at the brownstone buildings around and the pale light, pleased by the subtle fragrance of flowers behind you, he seemed so normal as you watched him from across the coffee table.

He kept sipping on his latte looking miffed before turning around and asked about why Elmo had been staying over for the last 3 days, to which you reminded him he sent his dads to sort some business in Singapore.

“Does he have no other family?” He thought of Singapore– it was quite urgent… they decided to fuck us up.”

“You and them booked them for acting classes plus they have their first suit fittings tomorrow… easier for them to leave Elmo here and have us take care of that– they’re a team-up. They should be close.”

“I know! But why does he have to sleep here? He’s a boy.” He seemed concerned.

“‘Cuz we got the space…?”

“It doesn’t seem appropriate.”

“Oh you freak.”

 He was still stiff around the edges but you could bear with it, as you saw him and Helena bond you knew your daughter was handling him well– your target was Ryan now. 

You asked him to help you around the kitchen more, taking your time to teach him without pressure, scolding his father when he acted like it was undignified of him to help around the kitchen and forced him to eat whatever he'd made, making him feel proud when he took charge of dinner even if it was slightly too salty at times and his impenetrable skin resulted in chipped knives… 

 You helped him make those cute films and took him out to the cinema, buying him books on the subject, encouraging him to join art clubs, to try as many extracurriculars he was interested in and to ignore his father as he pushed Ryan to join sport related clubs, when all he wanted was to make dioramas with his new found friends, instead. 

Homelander didn’t have any issues with Helena for her selections were sparse, just the chess club, and some science club she was quickly losing interest in… if anything he was being pushy about piano– and god knows how he managed to bring that piano to the fifth floor without breaking anything.

Is not as if she was already taking too much in-between physics, science and math classes… and working casually at Vought, but he didn’t seem to care. Helena assured you she could handle it, telling you to focus on your tasks without worry and you listened.

Ryan liked your support, it helped you get closer as you allowed his friends to enter the house for his little projects, he liked when you twisted his father’s ear to let him be just in case he began to disapprove, he began to trust you.

Helena wasted her afternoons in the office between daycare, superhero training and shadowing her father or Ashley, reading his meeting notes, writing them for him, or as he called it assisting him, learning about the company and the labs from her privileged position– the whispers of curious passerby wondered why Homerlander would keep his daughter so close, it had taken the building by surprise to learn that this little girl had been his child all along even if rumors had spread prior… but the once cute anomaly began to gain a insidious reputation in the underbelly of this company, something that made them more uneasy than just her strange demeanor from before.

“What’s that on your dress?” You noticed a brown stain on the hem of her dress.

“Iodine.” She said while taking her clothes off, Homelander said nothing as he picked after her.

Homelander gave you a stiff smile as he scrunched the clothes into a ball before your kid ran up towards the bathroom, mentioning she’s a tad clumsy with the equipment as he walked past you.

You didn’t need to know that the duet had some quality father-daughter time to the misfortune of some lab rat.

He stared at the chunky bloodstain sliding down the wall.

“I can explain.” She panted, staring at her work as her eyes spun around the room.

“It’s pretty obvious what happened, no?” He said stepping on top of the unidentified– "I'll have somebody come clean it up, darling.”

“You’re not mad?” She asked, genuinely nervous, fidgeting with her fingers as her head throbbed.

“Why did you kill him?” He stared at the smashed patty with curiosity.

“He resisted termination… forcing me to defend myself… he took my assistant.”

Homelander looked at the other corpse and its mangled remains, spilling around her boots.

“Why?” He spoke with a boor.

“Self-defense.”

“You took your time doing it… you could have cut his oxygen supply and killed him in a few minutes, instead you” He kicked a shattered bone– made it agonizing.”

“Tch… if he attacked me I would’ve lost control of the bubble…” She gasped lightly trying to kill the headache inside her– the math… the math makes sense. My formulas make sense. But it's them… these samples aren’t fit, they aren’t meant to be like us. They are worthless!”

She leans towards the wall, smacking her forehead against the wall full force, Homelander jumps on his heel but doesn’t reach her as she mutters incoherent curses under her breath, his hand stop just inches from her.

 “This one wasn’t too bad… I thought I cracked it but then I noticed…” Helena was pensive looking at images he wasn’t privy to, as she spoke with a light airy voice as her lungs emptied for her to speak once more— I cull it.”

She squatted picking up a loose tooth from the ground, examining the perfectly structured canine, for the first time Homelander felt uneasy about her.

“Is not often that I feel…”

Homelander raised a curious eyebrow, taking a step closer towards her, Helena tilted her neck to look at him, her sight so detached it didn’t seem possible for a child to make such an expression.

“Excited. The simulations always succeed but the human variant poses an interesting angle I hadn’t previously considered… truly successful adult specimens… V24 almost recreated the perfected serum but with nasty side-effects… programming the serum is obtainable but adult humans continue to reject it or somehow create variants as if the host alters the code live”  She flicks the tooth– Is like Frederick left me a puzzle.”

“So are these just pieces” He waved his fingers nonchalantly at the messy remains.

She scoffed standing up and patting her knees clean.

“You know why I play piano?”

He shook his head.

“Because in order to be good at it… you have to foster talent… but no amount of practice can’t beat those blessed with a gift… supposedly. So I have to solve his puzzle because I cannot believe that that coward was blessed more than me.”

“You think Vought has beef with you? So what will you do with all your failures? Murder them?”

“Is it murder to cull a deformed goldfish? No… that’s just mercy.” She stands up fixing her hair– It’s not beef. Is a challenge he left us with.”

His smile is so wide his skin creaks as it stretches. 

He picked her up to plant a kiss on her chubby cheek.

“You’re such a messy child.” He kissed her again– you got your pretty dress dirty.”

“Sorry.” She moped– sorry about all of it… you must think I'm a hack.”

“Is okay princess… daddy will just buy you a new one… and a new dress.”

You didn’t question the stains on her dress, god knew what sort of chemicals and stuff she had to play with, and how much of it wasn’t built for the size of her hands.

The more you saw him return to that man you once loved, you felt down the spiral of considering giving him a second chance– Helena was happy, she was smiling, she was playful, your quiet daughter had blossomed under your mutual care, seeing him domesticated, seeing him interact with genuine joy with her had began to melt your heart. It didn’t help that he look so delectable in compression shirts, as he came back with the kids without a sweat on his brow, Ryan just as dry with nothing more than messy hair and then your daughter dropping to the ground half-dead from the walk… what you had stared at mostly had been his ass in those black tights.

“Honey it was only 20 miles.” He sounded a bit frustrated– gotta get her fit otherwise she will get outperformed.” He turned to you sounding a tad aggressive– she’s my daughter she should be able to handle it just like me and Ryan.”

“Mommy!” she cried.

“Most humans can’t even do twenty!”

You picked her up, not caring she was covered in sticky sweat but as you draped your child over your shoulder kissing her head as she whined, you caught an improper glimpse at him, no doubt he caught a couple looks from passersby on his way here– even by this city standards he was wearing too little.

“Go change…” You said with a light blush on your neck– don’t be a dick to her, she wasn’t born a copy of you.”

He pestered Helena for the rest of the evening, giving up once she barricaded herself in her bedroom.

“Spending all her time inside books is not gonna do her any good… she needs exercise.”

“I think you got the kids mixed up, dear.”

He moped in the living room pursing his lips, one sentence away from crossing his arms and whining like a child.

“Look I think it’s great that you want to train her but… she’s not like you. I would love for her to have inherited some of your physical skills– it's just not gonna happen.”

“I know. I don’t know why she’s so different from me… yet she has to get better…” His sight lingered on the roof– You think she’ll move her dresser out the way.”

“She’ll move it when she wants to– and don’t think about getting in there thru her window!” He almost complains but chooses to stay quiet scooting closer to you on the couch– What?”

“You seem mad…”

“You harassed our kid all day and made her upset… but I was mad before it...I made the mistake of googling myself after somebody at work made mention–  have you seen the shit that people are saying ‘bout me online ‘cuz of you.”

Homelander shook his head lightly.

“I only google myself.”

“People are saying nasty shit. Hurtful shit… saw my mom getting interviewed… that was nice… she certainly made me feel like shit.”

“Want me to kill her?” Homelander spoke in such a bored tone, his head finding his way on your lap with the smoothness of a cat, unconsciously your hand took to his hair– Or something else?”

You stared at him and considered it, your mom sort of had it coming if she was going to paint herself a saint for her 15 minutes of fame.

“Don’t kill my mom, John. I just don’t want people saying I’m a bad mother because my kid went to a “shit public school” in the projects.” you said annoyed.

“I’ll see if Vought can write you a fluff piece.”

You believed him, choosing to put your anxieties away as he nuzzled into your stomach and let you watch TV without care as long as your hands kept pampering him making little commentary as you watched true crime videos.

Rolling in your bed you turned to see his back on the bed beside you, you signed readying to play dirty, your body awoken to something sickening.

“I know you ain’t asleep, John.”

His ears perked, he turned to see your silhouette in the dark.

“I can’t sleep.” You whispered– mmm…so” you signed lightly– can you get your dick up?”

His ears perked up, lifting himself by his elbows as he adjusted to face your darkened silhouette, your cheeks reddened, mildly embarrassed, your mind wandered back to the sight of his clothes, to the tussling of his hair and the glint in his eyes as of late… and of that last sudden night of intimacy.

“Oh. O-okay… might need some stimulation is not like I got a crank down there.” he faked being annoyed by your request.

“I stopped taking the pill…” His piercing eyes illuminated the room for a brief second just to catch a sly smile ‘bout to fade away off your face– so you wanna put the mommy in MILF or not?”

He tripped out of the bed to jump into yours, clawing his way back towards you, as the little voice in his head blared sirens.

Latching on your neck, ripping your clothes open as you tried not to chuckle at his messy desperation to fuck you, you closed your eyes and thought of nothing but the hundred different pleasurable sensations prickling you– it had been so long… your body sensitive, writhing over his hungry touch, wherever his hands and his lips got to taste you felt it twice as strong.

Whatever he was imagining in his head was happening none of it was relevant– this was simply a mutually beneficial exchange. Nothing but lust, it had to be lust because you didn’t see Homelander underneath you, as you rode him, as he let you fucked him just as hard as he wanted to fuck you– you saw the John that he had killed so many years ago... but somehow you didn't hate the sight.

He wanted to devour you, he was needy and pent-up and you took it all graciously, for one night you two used each other equally.

Finding himself delighted and more aroused at the squeals and mewls coming from your delicious lips just as much as you enjoyed the moans and guttural grunts that came from him as he cried against your chest, crying for your kisses and directions, liking the way he craved your scent once again.

You were better than his molasses drenched memories.

Homelander teeth gilded over your neck, the thought of him ripping and gnawing on your flesh lingered as he brought you to an orgasm. 

To be so close to death as you touched heaven… you heaved, melting into the mattress letting him lumber atop of you, too delighted with the end result to complain… looking down to find him kissing your chest, whispering sweet grunts as your hand pampered his hair, you tried not to smile at that satiated goofy expression on his face, at the flickering light illuminating your skin as he purred around your touch.

He was so easy to win over… it scared you.

My Taglist-- @demodemo909 @immyowndefender @fromforeigntofamiliarity @ghqstfqce

[teaberrii]

Chapter 2: Plan of Attack

You've been Cupid for as long as you can remember. You've brought countless soulmates together, yet you've never found love.

When you're assigned to bring two childhood friends back together, it should be simple until you unexpectedly catch feelings for the mysterious and cold Ph.D. student, Dan Heng, the man with a soulmate… the man with answers to your past.

Dan Heng/You

Notes:

Cross-posted on Ao3

Female reader

Chapter index at the end of chapter one

“He��knew?”

You and Pom-Pom are sitting at a campus café where workers aren’t humans but slightly floating robots. One of them glides by just as you finish telling Pom-Pom about what happened earlier with Dan Heng and Gepard.

“Apparently,” you answer.

Maybe you shouldn’t be that surprised. You and Pom-Pom were getting a lot of curious stares.

Pom-Pom slightly leans forward and says, “Look on the bright side. We’ve made such an impression he won’t be able to forget us now!”

This isn't the first time you followed someone around to get some more information on them. You just never got caught. But, hey, there's a first for something. It's all about how you proceed from here, and you have a relatively decent idea.

"You're right. But it won't help if we keep sticking together like this. You're human now, Pom, which means you can do a lot more than you usually can."

He smiles. “Oh, I think I know what you’re trying to say. So, while you take on Mr. Tall and Handsome, I’ll take on Ms. Sunshine and Smiles. But, do we have a plan of attack?"

Well, first things first. You need to become more than just acquaintances with Dan Heng. 

“...We do."

“We do?”

It happened when he was staring at you. You got a glimpse into his deepest desires.

It’s one of your many tricks. By staring into someone’s eyes long enough, you can choose to see their deepest desires. And, with a snap of your fingers, you can bring them to life. 

There’s only one downfall.

It doesn't last, and when the magic starts wearing off, the person is left to fend for themselves in the aftermath. You've seen people try to save their relationships and salvage the riches you granted them. But without your magic, they lost it all anyway.

"He wants to find a cure for an illness called The Withering," you say.

"What in the world is that?"

"Good question, my dear Pom. That's what I'm going to find out. But, before any of that"—you take your two phones from your bag—”you need to learn how to use a phone.”

He takes one of your old phones you kept from a past job from you. “Easy-peasy!”

“We also need to figure out where we’re going to live while we’re here..."

"I'm always down for a five-star hotel."

You give Pom a deadpan look just when you hear, "...Yeah, I’m having trouble renting it out.”

You look over your shoulder while Pom-Pom looks past you and sees two students sitting at the table behind you.

“It’s probably because you priced it too high,” her friend says.

“But I have to if I want to get a return on it. It’s in one of the best neighbourhoods in the city. Of course, I’m going—”

The girl suddenly stops. She and her friend turn and see you and Pom-Pom smiling at them.

"Hi," you say cheerily. "We… heard you have a place you want to rent out."

The girl raises a brow. “Are you two students here?”

“Are you only renting it to students?”

The girls look at each other. “...Can you afford the rent?”

“What if… I can offer you something better?”

By the end of the conversation, you and Pom somehow talked your way to a new place while granting this girl a temporary fix to her grades to get her into the program she wants abroad.

Once you and Pom leave the café, it’s almost evening.

“You go ahead. I have something I still have to do," you say.

“Are you going to prey on more innocent mortals?"

"If it means getting what I want, then yes."

"I’ll see you back at our new apartment then!”

And then you and Pom-Pom part ways.

You spend some of your time familiarizing yourself with the large campus, which in your opinion, is far too big. You also make sure to drop by the student registration office.

“Can I help you?” a dull voice asks. The man at the desk doesn’t even look at you.

“...I want to register as a student here.”

That gets his attention. He doesn’t raise his head but looks up at you. “...Riiight. You do know there’s a process, right? And it doesn’t involve waltzing in here just asking to be admitted. Who are you, anyway?” You put your hands on the table and lean slightly closer. Startled, the man quickly asks, “What are you doing? Don't make me call security.”

A small pause.

“Sir, is it just me or are you unhappy with your job? You think you deserve a promotion, a raise, but management doesn’t think you’re doing enough.”

The man quickly stands. “Sec—”

“I can get you that raise if you do me a favour, that is.”

The man narrows his eyes. “Who the hell are you?”

“Would you believe me if I said I was a God?”

◆◆◆

Dan Heng is looking at his textbook, yet his mind keeps wandering… to you.

He’d sensed something was strange when he saw some odd looks on some of the students’ faces when he walked by. They looked like they were curious or focused on something. So, Dan Heng had subtly turned and caught a glimpse of you and a tall man dressed in a butler suit.

Were you students rehearsing for something? Was that why you were dressed so… uniquely? Dan Heng shrugged off the thought, but it was when he sensed you were following his small group of friends that he knew something was off. What did you want? Why were you following them? He thought about calling you out, but he didn’t want to make a scene. Not when you didn’t seem threatening.

It wasn’t until you talked to him at the store that he saw it.

A sparkle? A shine? Dan Heng still doesn’t know how to explain it. Whatever it was, it had appeared in your eyes, and he suddenly felt… naked. Yet, it was also strangely compelling. It drew him in and aroused his curiosity.

“...Hey!” Dan Heng looks forward and sees Gepard looking at him. “You okay?”

“...Yeah. Did you say something?”

Gepard then repeats his question, and Dan Heng helps his friend solve the question he's stuck on. That's when Gepard asks, "Are you thinking about that woman today?"

“What woman?”

Gepard smiles slightly. "Don't play dumb. You know who I'm talking about. The one at the store."

“...What makes you think I’m thinking about her?”

“Well, you kept staring at her after she left.”

Dan Heng closes his textbook. “Did you see something in her eyes?”

Gepard raises a brow. “Um, no?”

“...Her eyes. They were… I think they were sparkling.”

“Whoa, there, Lover Boy.” Gepard laughs. “You don’t even know her name yet.”

Dan Heng frowns. “Don’t call me by such ridiculous nicknames.”

Gepard looks past his friend. "Here's a thought." Then, he nods toward the library entrance. “Why don’t you go ask her about it?”

Dan Heng looks over his shoulder and sees you do a facial recognition scan to enter the library. He turns back and sees Gepard smiling at him.

“...No.”

“From what I saw today, you made her feel uncomfortable,” Gepard reasons. Dan Heng sighs and awkwardly looks away. “Maybe you can make up for it.” Gepard packs up his things. I should get going. I’m meeting my family for dinner tonight. I’ll see you back at the apartment.”

As Gepard leaves, Dan Heng sees you walk into one of the aisles.

You’re looking through the rows and rows of books when you find one that sounds useful. If you’re going to pass as a student here, it’s time to brush up on your knowledge about this place. You reach for the book, but it’s just a little out of your grasp. That’s when someone reaches out behind you and grabs it off the shelf. You turn around, surprised at who you saw.

“So now you’re the one following me?”

“...I guess we’re even.” Dan Heng hands you the book, and you take it from him. Then, without looking away, he says, “I apologize if I made you uncomfortable today.”

Your eyes widen slightly. Huh. That's not what you're expecting. Well, you don't know what to expect, but certainly not an apology.

"...I apologize, too. I shouldn't have followed you, but I do have my reasons."

Is that a small smile you saw? Well, whatever it was, it's gone as soon as it came. 

You clear your throat and say your name. “I’m also a chemistry major. One of my professors recommended talking to you if I wanted to know more about The Withering.”

You’re hoping to get a reaction out of him. But nothing. Absolutely nothing. His poker face hasn’t changed, making you wonder why that was the desire you saw as they are normally secrets the person doesn’t want others to know.

“It's for an assignment,” you continue.

“...You aren’t going to find much on it.”

“Why not? Surely there must be something—”

“Information is very limited. It only affects a selective amount of people, not enough to get decent funding for substantial research.”

Before you can stop yourself, you ask, "Then why are you researching it?" He looks at you, and you stiffen. "I, uh, I heard from the other students."

His gaze hardens. Did you say something wrong?

He steps toward you, and your back hits the bookshelf behind you. “What if I told you that’s impossible?”

"Are you prepared to face the consequences?"

"...That sounds like a threat, Professor," Dan Heng said.

His professor sighed. "Don't get me wrong, Dan Heng. You're one of our best students, but there's too little information to work with. You'd be risking your graduation if you don't provide valuable research results."

"I understand what I'm getting myself into. But, I still want to take this on. There's been improvements and additional research on diseases similar to The Withering. I won't be starting from nothing."

A small pause.

His professor nodded once. “As long as you understand and agree to the risks, you have my permission. But I do recommend you do one thing. Keep your research private until you have something substantial."

“That information isn't public knowledge," Dan Heng says. "In other words”—he slightly leans towards you and puts one of his hands beside your head and on the shelf just above your head—“you somehow know something that you shouldn’t. How is that possible?”

You hold his gaze, and then he sees it again. That sparkle in your eyes.

“...Your eyes,” he says quietly.

“...What about them?”

Hang on. Does this mean he can… see it? But that’s impossible. You know about the brief flash of light in your eyes when you work your magic. No one has been able to see it. No one but Pom-Pom.

“If you come any closer, I’ll scream.”

Dan Heng steps away from you. “You’ll have better luck doing something else for your assignment.” Then, he turns around and looks over his shoulder. “...See you around.”

As he walks away, you cross your arms.

Who is this guy?

◆◆◆

Pom-Pom looks to the right. To the left. Then, he spins around. Where in the world is he? He takes his phone out of his pocket and taps it.

“Thank you, Cupid, for giving me a dead phone,” he deadpans.

He slides it inside his pocket and takes another look around. People are everywhere, but no matter how much Pom-Pom tries to get their attention, people either avoid him or politely say no.

Just before he leaves the busy square, he sees him. Pom-Pom squints his eyes and almost bumps into someone when he walks toward the blonde-haired man in front of the restaurant.

Pom-Pom almost gasps. Is he saved? Maybe.

Gepard has just parted ways with his sister and parents at the restaurant when he sees a familiar man run up to him. Where has he seen him before? 

“Um… can I help you?” 

“Gosh, I hope so! I’m friends with the girl you met today. Um... the one at the store?"

Girl…? Gepard suddenly thinks about you, but he doesn’t have a name. “The girl with Dan Heng?"

“Yeah!” Pom takes out the phone you gave him. “My phone's dead, and I’m kind of lost. Could you, well, help a guy out?"

When Gepard learns of the address Pom-Pom needs to get to, he says, “That’s the same apartment I’m staying at.”

Pom gasps. “Really? Then, I'm definitely saved!”

Soon, as the two men walk together, Gepard asks, “Are you going to give me a name?"

"Oh, how rude of me. You can call me Pom."

"Gepard." Then, he asks, "Are you a student?"

“I… graduated already. I was just accompanying Cu—her today.”

“Ah… what did you major in?”

Pom can feel his palms sweat. “...Animal studies.” If Gepard is suspicious, he doesn’t ask. Instead, he smiles. So, Pom takes the opportunity to ask, “Do you know what happened at the store earlier today? I saw your friend looking at her.”

“Oh.” Gepard chuckles. “Beats me. He was telling me about how he saw something in her eyes earlier today.”

“Something in her eyes?”

“Yeah. Like a sparkle or something.”

“...You don’t say.”

Gepard glances at him. “Something wrong?”

“Oh, um, nothing. Did he say anything else about her?”

“Not really. But why are you so interested?”

"Because… she… she told me she wants to be his friend."

Gepard raises a brow. “Is she interested in Dan Heng?”

“Oh, no! Not like that!”

Gepard laughs. “Or… is it you who’s interested in him? Sorry, but he—”

Pom looks almost flustered when he says, “I’m not!”

As they pass a large LED screen, a trailer for a movie starts playing. That’s when Pom sees Stelle. It looks like it’s a trailer for her upcoming movie.

“Are you a fan?”

That’s when he notices Gepard looking from the screen to him.

“Of Stelle? Um, I don’t know a lot about her,” Pom says honestly. “Are you a fan?”

"Would you believe me if I said she, Dan Heng, and I grew up together?"

Pom almost gasps. Does this mean he can use Gepard as a resource?

“Really? What's she like?”

“Quiet and reserved. She’s similar to Dan Heng.” Gepard chuckles.” Fun fact… She got into acting because of him.”

“Did he encourage her?”

“Something like that.”

As much as Pom-Pom wants to keep asking, it might come off as suspicious... if he isn't already.

Gepard points to a tall, extravagant building just across the street. “We’re here.”

Pom looks in that direction. So, that’s going to be you and his home for the next little while.

Once they're standing in front of the entrance, Pom says. “Thanks for your help.”

“Anytime.”

As Gepard watches Pom walk into the building, he slightly narrows his eyes. Animal Studies, huh? Their university doesn’t have a major like that. Gepard thought about calling him out on the lie. Gepard hoped he’d get a slip-up or a hint why, but then Pom brought up you and Dan Heng.

Do you have something to do with it?

Gepard walks into the building and heads up to his floor. When he enters the suite, he sees Dan Heng at his desk with his desk light on.

“You’re back,” Dan Heng says without looking at him.

Gepard closes the door. “Don’t tell me you spent almost the entire evening hunched over your desk. Did you eat? I brought you some food."

Dan Heng closes his notebook and stretches. Then, he spins his chair around to face Gepard, who puts the bag of food on the table. “I spent some time at the library with her.”

“...And?”

“I thought you’d tease me about it,” he deadpans.

Gepard sighs and sits on the couch. “You know that guy she was with? The one who was dressed like some kind of butler?”

“...Yeah.”

“He lives in the same building as us.” Gepard turns to his friend. “...He said he graduated, but his major doesn't exist at our university."

Suddenly, they hear a loud thud coming from the floor above.

"Well, he's not the only one who's suspicious," Dan Heng says. "This woman knows things she shouldn't." 

“That doesn’t sound eerie at all.”

“She knows I’m researching The Withering.”

"How?"

“My question exactly.”

Another thud. The men look up but decide to ignore it again.

“...While I was talking to her, I saw it again,” Dan Heng continues.

“That sparkle?”

He nods. 

Gepard sighs. “They’re suspicious… but it doesn't feel like they’re dangerous. Does that make sense?”

Regardless if it does or not, Dan Heng thinks the same.

Another thud.

Gepard looks up. “Geez, what’s going on up there?”

◆◆◆

Pom stumbles with the couch he’s helping you move, and it lands with a thud on the floor. Unable to hold onto it anymore, you carefully let it go, except it still lands with an audible thud.

"Wow, Pom, I never thought you'd make such a useful friend so quickly."

Pom has just finished telling you about his encounter and conversation with Gepard. Then, Pom smiles. "I guess it's my charm."

You almost roll your eyes. Then, as you start mopping, "Well, this makes our job easier."

"You know... what if Dan Heng and Stelle are already seeing each other?"

You set the mop upright and lean against it. "Then, why would Himeko assign this to us?"

Pom sighs. "Yeah... I guess you're right." Then, he chuckles. “Maybe you can pretend to be Stelle's biggest fan and get Dan Heng to introduce you.”

"I doubt that’d work.”

“Why?”

“...Dan Heng doesn’t seem like the type who’d do something like that.”

You nod at Pom to take the other side, and the two of you start moving the couch back but not without it gently hitting the floor a few times.

“You only met him once! How do you know?”

“Well, we had a little chat in the library.”

Pom gasps and almost lets go of his side of the couch.

“Pom!”

“Oh, sorry!” He quickly picks it up. “...That reminds me… Gepard said Dan Heng saw a sparkle in your eyes.”

“...Yeah. He mentioned that.”

“But how is that possible? I thought I'm the only one who can see it. Do you think this means something?"

“I don’t think this is happening without reason,” you say. "You were the only one who could see it, but we never figured out why. If we did... maybe we'd have a hint as to why this random human is able to see it."

"Here's a thought. What if... Dan Heng isn't human?"

"Then, what is he? A robot? A God? I doubt it, Pom. If he was a God, he'd be on the Astral Express."

"But, I'm not a God! I still don't know who I really am, but I was on the Astral Express."

You slowly put the couch down. "But the point still stands. If he isn't human, he'd probably be on the train."

Suddenly, you hear a knock at your door. You and Pom glance at each other.

"...Do you have any idea who that could be?" he asks.

"No idea," you say, walking over to the door. "But why are you picking up a pillow?"

"For self-defence!" Then, he walks over but stays behind you. "I got your back."

You almost roll your eyes. Then, you open the door, and you instantly freeze.

The shock on Dan Heng's face is gone as quickly as it came, but it's as if you're reading each other's minds.

“What are you doing here?”

Chapter 3

End notes:

I keep writing Gepard and Geopard, and I can just feel it's going to sneak into one of my chapters one day... and I'm going to miss it.

Also, I don't know why, but I strangely feel pressure when writing this. Maybe it's because it's after MBIMC. But I'm afraid it's not going to be as interesting, but I'll try my best. :>

Tag list: @suoshiii @lordbugs @seirenspinel @lxry-chxn @tanspostsblog @theprinceofkhaos @nqctre

[nrdmssgs]

Congrats on your (well deserved) 500 followers! ❤️❤️❤️❤️

May I request...

10+21, with Nik and Zhar please?

Thank you!!

I LOVE THIS ONE) thank you so much!!! "Shut up before I kiss you." + "Am I your lockscreen?" \\ "You weren't supposed to see that."

Masterlist List of prompts Another answer from these series

Lips sealed

"Price! Here is my favorite Captain!" despite Nikolai giving him the biggest bear hug - John looks straight at Olga, standing in the distance.

"What is this one planning?" Price asks her, completely ignoring Niks muffled grumbles.

In any other situation she would tell on Nikolai right away, but this time her lips were sealed, so she just shrugs vaguely and steps into the Captain's house.

It was Zhars fault: she shouldn't have gotten so sentimental around Nik. From them two it was her, who was always reserved, even reticent about their relationship. She tried hard to not react to his lingering touches, play it cool, when he leaned closer and whispered something very personal in her ear. Not only it never stopped Nikolai - it seemed to sparkle some kind of ardor in him. Every time, they were out - he played this little game of 'ok, how many buttons I can push, before she ends up all flustered and panting?'. Eye contact, smirks across a crowded room, raised eyebrows, teasing, lots of it. Today, she herself gifted him yet another 'button', giving him her phone to call Price.

"Am I your lockscreen?" Nikolai tilted his head, inspecting a background picture on a display.

"Oh fu-, give me that back!" She tried to pull a phone from his hand, but Nik didn't let it happen. "You were never supposed to see that!" Zhar facepalms and looks away, hiding a growing blush.

"I was never supposed to see, someone's secretly fangirling over me?" Nikolai clearly exaggerates, because her lockscreen is just his hands. But he can't deny himself in ravishing in this moment. "Ok, if it's not for me to see - how about we send it to straight to John? You know, he too has a soft spot for me - maybe you could organize a little cozy fanclub together?"

"You are walking on a very thin ice, Nikolai. One more joke about you and Price, one slightest mention of this, while we are there, and..."

"And? You'll need a rope, my treasure? Or you'll just convince me to be still and obedient for you?" Zhar only hissed incoherently in return. The evening haven't yet started, and she already felt, that a few next hours of her life won't be the easiest.

"So, I guess, we are discussion your next mission with Price, after all," added Nikolai, still not letting her have her phone back. "And if you have another opinion - feel free to change a topic and tell him, how I made his former Lt swooning with my charm."

And just like that, Zhar now couldn't stop Nikolai from dragging Price into a plan, that she specifically tinkered so accurately, that all that Chimera would be risking is her. To her relief, Nik wasn't reorganizing the whole operation - he just wanted to hide her somewhere for one night, to give her some time to rest.

"So, do you think, you have anyone in Scotland?" Nik smiled benignly, stretching in his chair.

"Anyone? Nikolai, we have MacTavish, and it's the very best, Scotland could ever offer you." Prices velvety voice mixes with a thick cigar smoke in the air.

"I know, but..." Zhar tenses, waiting, how Nikolai concludes his phrase. This is a very delicate matter, and he should think twice, before telling Price the whole truth.

"...but i would very much like to put a good distance between our pal Johnny and a car full of what can in theory be considered as weapons of ma-"

While Captain was fighting to not spit out the last sip of whiskey, he took, Zhar jumped up and dragged Nikolai away from the room.

"Price, we'll be back in a minute!" She hisses, leading Nik deeper in Johns house so eagerly, that his comment 'Price, we WONT' is left unheard by his friend.

As soon, as she sees an open door leading to the bathroom - she pulls Nikolai there and slams him against the wall. It's soft enough to not harm him, but harsh enough to make her point.

"Someone's feisty today," Nik chuckles, his hands snake up her spine. "Should I mention, that I do indeed have a rope in my trunk?"

"You should shut up for good. This is my plan, my operation, and only I get to decide who will be involved there. Telling Price, what exactly am I going to transport there is making him involved!" If she could, she would burn a hole in him with her eyes right now. But that seems to not bother Nikolai.

"You are forgetting, who is the boss here, Zhar." He doesn't try to break free - only pulls her closer. "And as your superior, I'd like to conduct a masterclass, nebo moye*. You see, when you have someone trapped like me, and you need them to do something for you - you should also make it clear, what happens, if they don't follow your orders."

Zhar freezes, not believing her own ears. Somehow, Nikolai seems to not care for a secrecy of Chimeras plans, when it comes to his best friend. The only thing, he seems to be interested in right now is her bare skin under his fingertips, as his hand slipps under her coat.

"So if you want me to shut up..." He leans towards her ear. "... make me."

Her breath hitches. Looks like there is one man on this planet, that can make her forget, how angry she was just a moment ago. And she was lucky enough to end up with this man. She fights her beating heart, fights the blush appearing under his satisfied and mischievous gaze. But if there's anything, she learned after months spent with him - It's that she loves, what he is doing to her. It makes her feel alive, wicked, wild, almost almighty.

"Shut up, or I'm kissing you right here," she whispers.

A wide grin spreads on Nikolais face. Not breaking an eye contact with Zhar, he addresses to Price, who still sits in a dining room. "Hey John, you know, what I found on Olgas phone this eve-"

She cuts him off, bringing her lips to his. Their kiss is hungry, full of desire, suppressed from both sides. Nikolai is the one pinned against the wall, but he still stays the one in charge, not letting her go as long as she doesn't surrender completely, and her body starts lightly shaking.

"Horoshaya moya, tak bistro uchishsya*... Ok, you wanted my lips sealed - be it your way." Nikolai exhales, melting under her hot breath on his face.

When they both finally come back to Price, he asks Zhar if she still takes any medication.

"Ehm-m-m, no... no, i'm fine." She is genuinely taken aback by this question, not understanding, what is Captain getting at.

Instead of an answer, John takes out another glass, pours whiskey in it and hands it to her.

"You two crazy Russians are not leaving my house, till you confess, what are you tinkering there, with weapons of mass destruction behind my back." Prices tone brooks no objection.

Zhar throws a desperate glance on Nikolai, but that scoundrel is just making himself comfy in his seat. "Sorry, nebo moye, it's your call now - my lips are sealed..."

nebo moye - my sky/my heaven

Horoshaya moya, tak bistro uchishsya - my good one, learning so fast

[ciaossu-imagines]

What are some of your favorite horror movies? And which ones you like to recommend to people?

Holy shit! This question makes me so happy but also so…wow, how do I organize this! How can I narrow them down…there’s just so many horror movies I definitely love and would recommend. The different sub-genres within horror and what’s the best to watch from those was considered, but that leaves out some solid horror movies that don’t fit into any particular sub-genre. So I kind of went chronologically, throughout the years…I might be wrong in some of these years, so please forgive me for that. I’ll also definitely have left off a lot of really good ones, so excuse the incompleteness of the list.

So, as mentioned on my other post, gotta start back in the roaring 20’s, when horror really kind of hit the mainstream, with 1922’s Nosferatu. It’s going to seem really boring if you go in expecting a gore-fest like what we get now, but I think it’s a really stand up film for it’s time, with a great atmosphere and feel to it.

All of the classic Universal monster film’s from the 30’s should be checked out. They’re classics for a reason and the horror genre really owes a lot to these early films.

As far as I know, the original that came out then is impossible to find, but you can find versions of 1932’s Freaks and it’s definitely worth checking out. That movie kind of fucked me up, though a lot of the horror in it was the mass exploitation of people who dared to differ from the norm.

As far as I know, the 30’s version of Sweeney Todd was the first time it was on film? Definitely worth checking out, comparing and contrasting to the Johnny Depp version of it. Both are decent in their own ways (though, of course, the stage renditions are the best).

To me, Son of Frankenstein, while considered a horror at the time, was the first horror comedy. At least, I very much have that feel watching it.

While there were a lot of 40’s horror films, the only one I still remember and enjoy is the Abbott and Costello film I recommended in the previous post.

In my opinion, the 50’s had a lot of really great horror films. Watching them now, they do feel campy and kind of B-grade, but I really do think that is part of the appeal to them and it’s also fun to see some of the tropes in horror that are still used to this day. So from that era, I recommend Donovan’s Brain, I Was a Teenage Werewolf, Attack of the 50 Foot Woman, anything with Vincent Price, and Teenagers from Outer Space.

1960 brought us Psycho. Any horror fan should check out Psycho – I consider it a classic and a must watch. I also think that might have been the year The Little Shop of Horrors first came out on film. The original wasn’t bad, though I recommend the later version with Rick Moranis. It had a really great feel to it and was a little more fun than the original.

From the rest of the 60’s…oh, you guys know this one was going to be on here. Rosemary’s Baby, natch. Night of the Living Dead is also one that was obviously going to show up on this list because again – should be considered must-watch for any horror movie lover. Romero and horror – goes hand in hand and especially in terms of zombie tropes…it set up a lot of those. For a surprise from the 60’s though, I do recommend Blood and Black Lace.

The 70’s were great for horror. I definitely recommend the 70’s Wicker Man. If you start to watch Wicker Man and you see Nicolas Cage….press back or do whatever you need to do to turn it off. Then go watch the Wicker Man without Nicolas Cage. You will thank me for that tidbit of advice. Tales from the Crypt, The Exorcist, Jaws, Alien, the OG Carrie, The Omen, the OG The Hills Have Eyes, the OG Suspiria, Dawn of the Dead, I Spit on Your Grave, Invasion of the Body Snatchers, Black Christmas, and The Amityville Horror were all fantastic movies from that decade. Plus, the Halloween and Texas Chainsaw Massacre franchises started in this decade and I really recommend those franchises as a whole. Did both of them have some terrible sequels/prequels/remakes? Oh boy, did they! But overall, the franchises are solid. Young Frankenstein is a solid horror comedy and while technically a miniseries, Salem’s Lot from that time is still something I rewatch at least every year or two.

The 80’s brought Freddy fucking Krueger and boy, do I recommend watching the Nightmare On Elm Street franchise. The Chucky franchise also started at that time and I love the really kind of campy, horror comedy feel to that franchise, with some genuinely scary scenes. The Evil Dead is a classic for a reason and definitely a must watch. Just watch every movie in the franchise because at the worst, they’re hilarious, at their best they’re so, so GOOD. Pretty sure Poltergeist is also from the 80’s but if I’m wrong, it’s late 70’s. I love The Lost Boys, at least the original one.  Motel Hell was weird as fuck but pretty decent horror comedy? My favourite horror comedy from the 80’s though has to be April Fool’s Day – definitely one I recommend everyone see at least once. Fright Night from the 80’s was also really good and I actually also enjoy the remake with Colin Farrell. The 80’s also brought a lot of Stephen King adaptions and where I love his writing, I watched a lot of them – Christine, Cujo, Silver Bullet,  Children of the Corn (the OG one is my favourite, though the remake wasn’t absolutely fucking horrific), Pet Sematary, Creepshow…notice The Shining is missing? It’s because I actually don’t really like the movie. I found the book more genuinely scary. One that does have to be mentioned but which I will personally NEVER watch again – Cannibal Holocaust. Don’t eat going into it and be aware that it gets very, VERY violent. If you consider Gremlins a horror movie, it’s on there. I just say it’s a classic Christmas movie you should definitely check out around the season. I watch it every Christmas season.

From the 90’s, starting with a miniseries but the version of IT that still scares me the most? The 90’s miniseries with Tim Curry. It will legit make me cry but that’s because clowns freak me out royally.  But legit, the 90’s and the 00’s was the era I really was just getting into horror, so I struggle to figure out what is me viewing it with a lot of nostalgia and love and what is actually good so I’m going bullet points for these decades:

Se7en – even non-horror fans know THAT scene from this movie, let’s be real, and I think that  makes it have to be on this list.

Village of the Damned

From Dusk Till Dawn

The first Scream came out this decade, as did a couple of the others, but please watch all the franchise except the newest ones. I watched them, not as great as the original run but 1-4…fucking amazing and probably my favourite horror franchise personally.

I Know What You Did Last Summer

The first Blade movie came out in this decade, but I recommend all three.

The Faculty

Urban Legend

House on Haunted Hill

The Sixth Sense really did have an amazing twist, though it looks cheap and played out rewatching or looking back on it. For the time period though – it was an amazing twist.

Sleepy Hollow

American Psycho

Final Destination. Any of the movies in the franchise kind of give me the happy but the first one is probably the best.

Jeeper’s Creepers

Misery

The Leprechan franchise is great horror comedy. I love Warwick Davis.

I recommend the Buffy the Vampire Slayer movie, only because it led to the show and the show was so, so precious to me.

The Silence of the Lambs, naturally.

Candyman, also naturally.

The Frighteners was a fun horror comedy. I just like seeing bad things happen to Michael J. Fox

Sometimes They Come Back

Cube

Cannibal! The Musical is frigging fantastic and a great black comedy

The Craft

Idle Hands is frigging amazing as well for horror comedy.

From the 2000’s:

Ginger Snaps

Thirteen Ghosts

Valentine

28 Days Later

Cabin Fever

Resident Evil as a franchise is hit or miss, but I like the original

The Ring

Wrong Turn

The Grudge

The Saw franchise

Hostel

House of 1000 Corpses and the follow up movies to it

Shaun of the Dead

House of Wax, just for being able to see Paris Hilton die

When a Stranger Calls

1408 (have an odd crush on John Cusack)

30 Days of Night

The Mist

Dead Silence

Repo! The Genetic Opera

Coraline

Zombieland

Cabin in the Woods is from around that time and still one of the best meta-horror comedies I’ve ever seen.

[mariana-oconnor]

The Six Napoleons pt 2

Last time many people had plaster busts of Napoleon, which one of the owners admitted had no value. It was very strange.

And Lestrade is getting a bigger role, which I will always support.

For the first time our eyes rested upon this presentment of the great Emperor, which seemed to raise such frantic and destructive hatred in the mind of the unknown.

Do not understand why Napoleon is being referred to with such respect. Historically the British have not had the most positive relationship with the French. It's been super messy. But I guess if you rule enough places in the world and fight enough people then... Victorians thought you were cool? Even if you were French? And some of the people you fought were their grandparents?

This whole thing is strange to me.

Apart from the fact someone is dead. That I got.

“The most practical way of getting at it, in my opinion, is to identify the dead man."

That does seem like an important step in the investigation.

“No doubt; and yet it is not quite the way in which I should approach the case.”

I know that this is because Holmes doesn't think the dead man is linked to the case beyond being there at the time, and he cares about the puzzle here. But I do still believe that identifying the body is important.

"Tell him from me that I have quite made up my mind, and that it is certain that a dangerous homicidal lunatic with Napoleonic delusions was in his house last night. It will be useful for his article.”

Don't give my favourite character a false lead, Holmes!

"Let us make for Mr. Morse Hudson, of the Kennington Road, and see if he can throw any light upon the problem.”

This time I will not be taken in. Those are both surnames. I am sure of it!

"Disgraceful, sir! A Nihilist plot, that's what I make it. No one but an Anarchist would go about breaking statues. Red republicans, that's what I call 'em."

How times have changed! It's definitely the republicans who smash the statues of military dictators. Lolol.

"Do I know that photograph? No, I don't. Yes, I do, though. Why, it's Beppo. He was a kind of Italian piece-work man, who made himself useful in the shop. He could carve a bit and gild and frame, and do odd jobs. The fellow left me last week, and I've heard nothing of him since".

The 'no, I don't, wait, I do' is very realistic. I appreciate that. And clearly Beppo is a bad guy here. He just left his job right before all of this started to happen. He's either on the run from our Napoleonic Bust Buster or he is the Bust Buster himself.

"...we came to a riverside city of a hundred thousand souls, where the tenement houses swelter and reek with the outcasts of Europe."

So it's an immigrant area. And it's a shitty place to live. Surprising absolutely no one.

Their wholesale price was six shillings, but the retailer would get twelve or more.

Maths time

I believe that should be approximately £60 RRP per bust. So that doctor spent the equivalent of £120 on busts of Napoleon that were destroyed.

Sucks to be him, I guess.

The work was usually done by Italians in the room we were in.

Ooh, where did we last see an Italian? Or not see him, actually, because he had mysteriously and suspiciously disappeared a few days prior.

Beppo, what have you done?

"Beppo was his name—his second name I never knew. Serve me right for engaging a man with such a face."

Excuse me?

Oh, this is the guy that Watson compared to an ape, isn't it. Oh good grief. Seriously? I'm kind of on Beppo's side right now. Sure he killed someone, but you're clearly a dickhead. In fiction, the second one is definitely a worse crime.

If you weren't conventionally attractive according to Victorian values, you just died, I guess.

"No, I have never seen this face which you show me in the photograph. You would hardly forget it, would you, sir, for I've seldom seen an uglier."

People really need to stop saying things like that. If I were Beppo and I had to put up with that constantly, I would have knifed someone in the street, too.

"His name is Pietro Venucci, from Naples, and he is one of the greatest cut-throats in London. He is connected with the Mafia, which, as you know, is a secret political society, enforcing its decrees by murder."

The fact they have to explain what the Mafia is. 😂

And it should be noted, that Lestrade is at least also on the Italian path through his investigations. Yes, he's ignoring the busts, which is strange, but he's definitely sniffing up the right kind of tree.

I assume that whatever was hidden in the busts after the infamous knifing of June 3rd has some connection to Mr Venucci.

“Is a very simple one. I shall go down with Hill to the Italian quarter, find the man whose photograph we have got, and arrest him on the charge of murder."

OK, now he has skipped out a number of steps in the 'proving Beppo committed the crime' process.

Lestrade, I was rooting for you!

"I can't say for certain, because it all depends—well, it all depends upon a factor which is completely outside our control."

All the best plans rely on things that are completely outside of your control. I assume Holmes' plan is to lie in wait at the house of one of the other bust owners and hope that Beppo didn't find what he was looking for in the last bust he smashed.

For my own part, I had followed step by step the methods by which he had traced the various windings of this complex case, and, though I could not yet perceive the goal which we would reach, I understood clearly that Holmes expected this grotesque criminal to make an attempt upon the two remaining busts, one of which, I remembered, was at Chiswick. No doubt the object of our journey was to catch him in the very act...

It seems like you do, in fact, perceive the goal, Watson. The goal is to catch the criminal in the act. You don't perceive the criminal's goal, which is an entirely different thing.

I was not surprised when Holmes suggested that I should take my revolver with me. He had himself picked up the loaded hunting-crop which was his favourite weapon.

How does one load a hunting crop?

Oh... it has a steel core.

Well that doesn't seem very nice.

But I suppose neither is a revolver.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

The Dark Passenger - An EZ Reyes/OC Story.

So besties, I have folded spectacularly and decided to post the first chapter, just to see what the reaction is. Cue me sitting here now chewing my nails to bits as I wait to hear if it’s any good! If you enjoy it, please do let me know, and since I haven’t written a full length story for EZ yet, if you want to be helpful and put the word out to any EZ lovers out there who you think might enjoy it too, please feel free! 

Oh, and just to reiterate going on from my announcement post, this fic will centre around dark!EZ. He will be manipulative and toxic. The boy scout has died, but eventually, there will be a redemption arc. Until then, though, don’t expect a smooth ride with him! 

Words - 4,459

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, minors DNI!

Tag list - In the comments. Please DM to be added/removed

Heavy is the head that wears the crown.  

Maybe, if Ezekiel Reyes hadn’t been so consumed by an unquenchable thirst for revenge against the Sons of Anarchy, maybe if he hadn’t instigated calling a kill switch vote upon Marcus Alvarez with quite the gusto he had, he perhaps might have left time for El Padrino to warn him of such, before he was ousted from the head of the table.  

Heavy is the head that wears the crown. At that moment in time, the crown was a weight upon his head unlike anything he’d previously known, but he would not relent. He would not cease, not until the Sons had been pushed down via the clout of the Mayans, made to fall in line, their necks tethered like fierce guard dogs upon heavy chained leashes, each link a Mayan brother yanking back should they stray too far, ever reminded of the power they had over them.  

That power? Heroin.  

They now moved huge quantities for the Lobos New Generation cartel, their product giving the Mayans the footing they needed to crush all others beneath their weight. The streets were flooded, the prison supply now pushed exclusively by the MC, the once aptly named poison charter now standing tall and strong above all. Santo Padre led.  

The poison still swirled, though. For one man, he was only too happy, it would seem, to let it infect his veins. Yet it did not weaken him, or rather, it did no harm to the man he now was.  

The old EZ? It had all but killed him. Poisoned to death by power, greed and bloodlust. It was an opinion shared by everyone who had a seat at the table, as five pairs of dark brown eyes flitted between one another, and the large bag upon the table, placed there by their president. El Rey Oscuro, they called him in the safety of the shadows, out of the reach of his ears. The dark king. There was little light left within EZ, and they all knew it, saw it, felt it. Yes, they were back on top, untouchable, but at what cost?  

There upon the table sat the price they knew each of them would likely be set to pay for, sooner or later. The top rung of the ladder they stood upon was not without its complications, of which EZ was attempting to iron out.  

“I dunno, man,” Angel began, each other man silently thanking him for being the first to speak. “Heroin is one thing, but getting into this shit? Naw, I ain’t seeing the benefit in moving it.”

EZ rolled his tongue around the inside of his mouth, his forearms flexing as he knitted his fingers together before him. “Fentanyl is more powerful than heroin, many, many times over. We aren’t moving it, per se. We’re cutting our product with it.” He paused, lifting his chin a little more, the dim templo light catching the golden tones of his irises, hues the others were surprised did not burn red. It was as if hell itself had begun to swirl within him at times, after all.  

The dark king continued. “Since the unfortunateness of the warehouse fire, our first shipment for the LNG destroyed, forcing us to move an inferior quality replacement as you all know, we need to earn points with our supplier, build further trust, show initiative. We might have the heroin trade sewn up, but it’s with garbage. It’s moving, but not as quickly as the LNG would like. This sets us apart and transforms the product to one of superior quality, if we supply it to them in order to do the cutting. It’ll bring in more cash for us, too.”

Everyone remained quiet, the men shifting uneasily in their seats, their leather kuttes feeling heavy upon them, the hard wood of the chairs stifling, binding, reminding them of their place. Everyone else was held down beneath their force, but them? They were beneath the boot and the unshakable will of one man.  

It didn’t mean, however, that they would remain unquestioning in their fealty.

“EZ, while I agree we need to show such, we gotta be careful with this shit,” Bishop began, lighting a cigarette. “That stuff is deadly. If it ain’t cut correctly, it’ll set us apart in the fact that there’ll be a trail of dead bodies all leading back to us, thousands upon thousands of croaked junkies. That’s the kind of shit that gets us watched by certain governmental department eyes more so than we already are.”  

The words of his VP were, as usual, steeped in fact and good sense. EZ was, if nothing else though, a man who covered all his bases.  

“I have a chemist, one who not only is prepared to work exclusively for us in order to synthesise the fentanyl, but once moved across the border, be there to examine the cutting process and make sure it is precise enough to give the product the correct edge, thus eliminating the overdose danger. If it’s voted in, I will take him to meet with Galindo and Soledad personally, since I already broached the latter with this suggestion. She was keen, of course I told her I would need to take it to a vote, so that is exactly what we are assembled here tonight to accomplish.”

He waited expectantly, his eyes scanning the faces of the five men who sat around the table with him. Bishop spoke first.  

“No. It’s too much of a risk, especially with the eyes on us since Creep’s arrest. The heroin is moving, and that’s all we have to worry about, EZ. You’re talking about quality of product like it’s our name on the line, like we’ll be affected by it. We won’t. We’re the mules. Let the LNG worry about whether anyone thinks it’s garbage or not. We still get our cut regardless.”  

Hank was next to weigh in. “It’s a no from me, too. It’ll bring too much heat. That chemist might know what he’s doing, but can you really vouch for every single person cutting the heroin to get that kind of delicate balance right, thousands of times over? It’s way too much risk.”

“I think it’s a good idea. I vote yes.” Of course, Nestor would. Angel rolled his eyes, muttering something well under his breath. When it came to their president, the newest member of the club was nothing short of sycophantic in his eyes. Some might disagree, and state that his opinion was tainted by the fact that he disliked him, that Nestor was simply playing safe by showing loyalty during his fledgling months as a newly patched brother.  

Gilly and Angel’s votes were both against the idea, EZ’s demeanour changing in a nanosecond as he brought the gavel down, defeated, and extremely displeased by such as they all filed out of templo. The men who had voted against him could only hope that he would see the sense in their reasoning eventually, but until then, they knew El Rey Oscuro would be like a bear with a sore head.  

Picking up a beer and a bourbon from the bar, Bishop walked over to join Angel on one of the couches, sitting down with a sigh, handing him the beer. “He’s getting worse.”  

Angel’s eyes widened, his jaw twitching as he bit down, grinding his teeth slightly. The VP had noticed him partaking of that a lot of late. “You’re right, Bish. I know we all voted for war, but shit, mano. I live in the biggest fucking regret for voting that kill switch in. He ain’t ready to be at the helm.”

“I’m not gonna sit here and pretend like all of his decisions have been bad, I have to give him a little credit,” Bishop began, his thumb picking at a slight flaw in his bourbon glass. “We’re back on top because of him and his choices, but when he brings ideas like fentanyl to the table, I wonder where the fuck his mind is at. He’s reckless, and you’re right. When he behaves like that, he isn’t ready for it. We gotta try and keep a firm pull on his reins. He might be the head, but us, brother, we’re the neck.”

Angel had heard this before. “And the neck turns the head in whichever direction it wants, right?”

“Right.” His eyebrows fluttered, Bishop taking a deep breath before raising his glass to his mouth. “For as long as we possibly can. The weight of the head can always break the neck.”  

That statement didn’t fill Angel with much hope, but he had to hold a belief that somehow, his brother would settle more, and the days of him being labelled El Rey Oscuro would become a thing of the past.  

While they sat drinking and discussing, the man himself left a half-drunk beer at the bar, the headache he had coming on only exacerbated by having to share space with the men who had voted against him. He was pissed off, and sought a distraction from it, somewhere where he could feel like he was the one in charge, somewhere he could relax, preferably with something pretty to look at.  

Heavy is the head that wears the crown.

Yes, he needed a distraction.  

The Luna Lounge was a relatively new enterprise within Santo Padre, the owner of such wanting to offer punters a classier feel to the surroundings in which they viewed the scantily clad women twirling around poles along the long, elevated stage that ran along the back of the bar. It didn’t matter how much he dressed it up, it was still a place to drink beer and see tits and ass. Except the beer was mostly imported and the tits and ass were of superior quality to those within the smaller, grimier establishments dotted around the bleak back streets of the border town, so it had that going for it, at least.  

EZ took a seat, a guy who looked like he was all but ready to finish his shift greeting him with a tired smile, taking his drink order. Once furnished with a beer, he moved around to the stage side, scanning what was on offer as women of various appearance clocked him, all brandishing the same warm smiles full of sensual allure, those smiles not quite reaching their eyes.  

And then he saw her.  

She was breathtaking, and he could tell as he sat down before where she slowly shimmied around a pole that she had absolutely no idea how stunning she was, but god, how she worked what she had. She should have been on the front of a magazine cover, not swinging around a pole in platform shoes and underwear much too cheap to be befitting of her beauty. She was, as the other girls were too, a little lacking in lustre behind the eyes, likely wondering how life had led to them strutting around a stage for their cash, ones and fives thrown up, tens and twenties from the more generous clientele.  

Camille could feel his eyes on her before she even turned around to view him. Tall, dark, handsome. Not many of his type frequented The Luna Lounge. In fact, she wagered he likely didn’t need to pay girls to take their clothes off and dance for him at all, looking the way he did. A mere click of his fingers would be all it took, she thought to herself, sauntering over before any of the other harpies she shared the stage with clocked him.  

“Well,” she began, crouching before him, her full lips curving in a way that made something very pleasant run through him, “aren’t you the most handsome thing to walk in here all night.”

Taking a bill from his pocket, he reached for her thong, tucking it into the elastic. “Hmm.” The noise he made confirmed he agreed with her statement; of course, he did. He’d seen himself in a mirror, he knew what he had.  

Camille looked down at her hip, seeing the bill was a twenty, turning back to him with a smile full of promise. “That’s very generous of you, handsome.” Running her perfectly manicured nail slowly down his cheek, she felt a little ripple of excitement when he turned and kissed her fingertip, his dark gold eyes focusing in on her. She liked it when they made her feel special.  

“How much time does that buy me with you dancing right there in front of me?”  

“Just enough to keep you throwing up those bills if you want more.” With a wink, she slowly rose to standing, her feline glide taking her back to the nearby pole, hoisting herself up and locking her legs around it, leaning back gracefully as she slowly turned, her blonde curls tumbling, the shining blue of her eyes fixed upon his.  

He watched her intently, focusing on the way the black lace of her underwear accentuated her body, her breasts obviously not her own, but well done enough that they didn’t look ridiculous. Not like the bad boob job currently grinding into the next pole down with the kind of uncouth gusto that didn’t exist in the blonde who was captivating his attentions with her elegance. She’d accentuated her tanned skin with little sparkles, sweeps of glitter highlighting the curves of her hips, the rise of each breast and the lithe muscles in her long, slender legs.

She was immaculate, even down to her matching mani and pedi, glittery black fingers and toes, the sooty smudge of her smoky eye makeup the same, care and effort put into her appearance. Yes, she was most definitely too good for twirling around a pole for a living, but EZ wasn’t about to tell her that. It was her job to make him feel good, after all.  

“So,” he asked after a while, Camille returned to right in front of him. “How much to get you by yourself?”  

“A standard lap dance will cost you forty. A full nude version, sixty.”  

He licked his top lip, nodding. “I think the extra twenty is worth it.”  

She smiled, gracefully getting down from the stage. “Give me a couple of minutes, and I’ll meet you just over there by the blue curtains, Mr President.” She winked, running her hand down his arm, her pulse fluttering. God, the muscles. She loved it when they were gorgeous. And he was the president of an MC, too. A man of power, she noted. She liked that even more; it made her feel special that he’d chosen her.  

Returning to the dressing room, she changed into a nude-coloured set of lace undies, a matching dress too, leaving on the peach toned sparkly nipple pasties she wore beneath her bra, fluffing her hair, spritzing on her favourite perfume, adding a few more sparkles before changing her shoes to match. Clear lucite with pale peach ribbons tying each one to her delicate feet and ankles.  

Leaving his almost finished draught beer on the side of the stage, EZ was on his way over to the curtained area when he saw the shimmering light of the blonde appear, Camille reaching for his hand with a soft smile that was one hundred percent allure, leading him through the curtains and into the private room. It was decorated all in dark blue, with thousands of twinkling lights strewn across the ceiling, looking like a starry sky, small booths dotted around, four other girls present, all in various stages of undress as they worked their charm for the respective men who had paid for their time.

EZ took a seat in the circular booth, Camille leaning forward, resting her hands on his thighs, her lips tickling the outer edge of his ear. “Get comfortable and enjoy, handsome.” She rose slowly, her body beginning to sway softly to the beat of the music, the song unfamiliar to him, but the tones just as sensual and richly delicious as the blonde who danced before him. Her striptease was natural, unhurried and sensually suggestive, enticing him every step by the way she made a show of something as simple as removing a dress.  

He tried to fight against the spell he felt himself falling under, the enchantment of her reveal, wanting to remain in control, the one who had others bend to his will, in order to redress the shifted balance that the lack of success at templo had left him feeling. She was here to soothe the stinging within, but he would remain objective, and her his subject.  

Perhaps someone should have explained the finer details of the purpose of a lap dance to him. He was the one paying to relinquish control, and let a beautiful woman distract him with fantasy, if only for a short time. His stance over such was certainly telling over where his mind was on the subject of losing even one ounce of control in any aspect of his life, though.  

Camille felt it, too. While she didn’t know his inner thoughts, she knew he sat there tense, fighting against himself somewhat. She leaned into him, her bra clad breasts brushing his chest through the grey, long sleeved t shirt he wore, soft meeting hard, hoping to coax a little of the tension out of him. Once again, her body dipped against his, a soft, sweet moan spilling from her lips, turning on her heel and seating herself in his lap, gently rotating her rounded butt against his crotch.  

She timed it, waiting for just long enough for his pulse to escalate, standing again, her hands smoothing over her body as she unhooked her bra, the front fastening then secured by her palms as she turned back to look at him over her shoulder, a smouldering pout accentuating her lips. Turning back to him, she moved in a graceful glide to the last bars of the song, the room quiet only for a few moments before a song he recognised instantly began to play.  

Venus in Furs was one of Camille’s favourites to strip to, internally beaming to herself as she moved fluidly, her hands working in tease over her breasts before finally revealing them, the glitter of her pasties catching the dim light, sinking to her knees to crawl toward him, hands grasping his thighs and slowly stroking upwards as she brought her body up between them.  

Mounting his lap once more, she locked her eyes onto his, gently gyrating against him a few times before bending back fully, her hips rolling slowly, her hands coming up to pull at each pastie, casting them away before she sat back up again, each blush nipple stiffening a little, trailing her fingers down his cheeks as finally, she saw the corners of his mouth upturn.  

“Got him.” she thought, watching his shoulders relax, knowing it was only a matter of time. Bare naked tits usually did the trick, though. Continuing to grind herself against him, she felt his breath hit her neck, knowing she was escalating him, giving him a few more seconds before she stood, moving back to her floorshow dance, leaving him feeling as if someone had yanked at the rope of his resolve... and unravelled it completely.  

The way she’d just moved against him had utterly blown his mind, ensnared him further than her enchanting display so far, pulled him away from himself and, what he needed most, made him forget. Here, he didn’t need to be in control. Finally, he got it. But fuck, how he wanted more.  

And that was exactly her design.  

“This no touching rule is getting more difficult to stick to by the moment,” he blurted, not able to prevent the words from leaving his mouth. Her allure, her scent, her moves, her body. Her. She’d got her hooks into him, and he couldn’t help but let the complimentary statements keep on rolling off his tongue. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”  

She smiled, smoothing her hands over her breasts, placing a foot up on the back of the booth to the side of his head, her body undulating, EZ inhaling a sharp breath. Oh, the urge to turn his head and skim a lick over her ankle. Camille saw it, too, the state she was working him up into. “I bet it’s the only thing you can think about, isn’t it? Running those big, powerful hands all over me. You have to be good, but me? Mmm, not so much.”

Lowering her leg again, she seated herself in his lap, wiggling against him, her body moving in a serpentine roll, turning her head, her breath fluttering against his cheek as she felt something very big beginning to harden against her butt. A gorgeous, jacked Latino guy with a big dick; he was definitely one hundred percent her taste, but he was work, and she had to remind herself of that.  

One more seductive dance before him, this time undoing the ribbon ties of her thong, and she was back astride him, grinding herself into him harder this time, her body pressed tightly against his, EZ physically moving his hands beneath his thighs, the temptation to grasp her almost too much to resist.  

“Yeah, do you want me, gorgeous? I can feel that you do. God, it’s so big,” she purred, her hand gently grasping his jaw as she rotated against him, EZ feeling himself spinning. There they were, client and lap dancer, and the heat that escalated between them was very, very real. More potent than either of them could have anticipated. There it was, the first thread of connection linking between them, and it crackled like a live wire.  

“You could pull my cock out and get on it right now, and I wouldn’t stop you, and no one would know. You want it, don’t you? Yeah, you wanna fuck me.”  

And god, how she did. It was unmistakable, the heat of her want as he watched the fire of it dance in her eyes, a blaze of lust that was unmistakable, that wasn’t an amped up bluff performance for the purposes of allure. However, she was in control, and she remained that way, working him up, and up... and up, until he felt his cock twitching against her, hot and hard, dying for release, tingling violently until... no she wasn't going to make him... fuck. Yes, she was. She’d actually made him cum in his pants, while staring him right in the eye entire time.

God... fucking... damn.  

He certainly hadn’t expected that, Camille climbing off him, picking up her underwear and sliding them back on, her dress following. He took her money from his pocket as he stood somewhat uneasily, adjusting his jeans, tucking the bills into the corner of her bra, eyeing her appreciatively. “What time do you finish?”

“1am,” she confirmed, fluffing her hair, resting her hands to her hips.  

“Good, I’ll wait,” he spoke, leaning to her ear. “Because the next time you make me blow my load, I want to actually be inside of you.”  

She smirked, running her fingernails down his chest, her face nearing his, still teasing him with the allure, the promise of more, until it ground to an abrupt halt. “I’m not that easy, big fella.”  

As she sauntered away, for the second time that night, EZ felt frustrated at not being able to attain the goal of having others to bend to his chosen will. While he knew the table vote would remain resolute, the same would not be said for the blonde stripper.  

He’d make her comply, because he knew she wanted him just as much as he did her. It was only a matter of wearing her down, but he would. Being on top of everything in his world was the only acceptable place for Ezekiel Reyes, and before the week was out, he very much intended to be on top of her.  

Exiting the private room, he walked back to the bar while Camille headed for the dressing room, sitting down in front of a pale beauty, with long black hair and a plentiful collection of tattoos.  

“Evening, sexy,” she purred, sinking to her knees and leaning close to him in brazen fashion.  

He replicated the lean, looking her up and down. “How’d you like to earn a hundred dollars?”

The corners of her mouth tilted. “You just came out from a private dance, and you want another? Shit, Camille must be slipping.”

“No,” he confirmed. “That girl I came out with, Camille, you say? I wanna know when she’s working this week. You tell me what hours, and the hundred is yours, babe.” To show he wasn’t bluffing, he pulled the bill from his wallet, sliding it across the shiny surface, his finger remaining. Raven looked down at it and back up at him, figuring it to be the easiest hundred she’d make that night.  

“Wednesday, seven ‘till two, Friday and Saturday, six ‘till one.”  

His finger left the top of the bill, using it to tickle under her chin with a wink. “Thanks, gorgeous.” Armed with the information he needed, he left, all the while planning his return.  

Ezekiel Reyes; he was a man who got what he wanted in the end. And damn, he wanted Camille. Meanwhile, the lady herself sat in her chair in front of her makeup mirror, sinking a shot of tequila from the bottle she always had stashed in her bag for emergencies. The owner didn’t allow the girls to drink while they worked, but in this case, she needed a little jolt of strong alcohol.  

God, the way he’d looked at her. Sure, she was in the business of having men look at her like that, especially when she was grinding herself into their lap, but there was an intensity to the man with a chest about as wide as the hood of her car, and a cock that felt so big, it likely had its own zip code. The intensity of that stare, though, a stare she knew she’d reciprocated with honest intent, it was burned into her mind. There’d been a connection there, and suddenly, Camille cursed herself for not being quite as easy as he presumed her to be.  

Because of her profession, she’d always been a little uptight about the speed with which she had sex with a guy, though. Two hours later, while she was alone in her house watching a pan of pasta bubble, she closed her eyes and saw him there, the dark, sexy man whose name she didn’t even know.  

What she did know, though? He’d be back.  

[polygonsexual]

A whole pecking essay on why I love Garten of BanBan and my perspective on it

____

So I bought and played all the chapters. I did watch the gameplays and Then finished all of them, twice! And Even from the first chapter, I actually never thought the game is bad! In fact, I very much enjoyed it.

I’ll go over three, maybe?.. topics in this silly essay. I’m sleepy, it’s 4 am so I don’t know for sure but I really want to express my opinion:’D

Ps. Spoilers will be outlined with this color, sorry if I left something out, you can let me know tho!

The topics are:

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1. Style

2. Gameplay

3. Character writing

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So Style is the first thing people found off putting and lazy about this game , from the first chapter I actually kind of enjoyed it. Yes it’s simplistic and used some free stock models, but there was something about it..this simplicity is well organised. Starting with the Main cast(BanBan’s friends) they look very simple from afar. But if you look closer you see how many little veins and details they have, and as mutants made out of unknown substance it makes sense! It’s only an illusion of simplicity, they are terrifying biological monstrosities that were made to look like kid’s mascots, adds up , doesn’t it?

Now for the free samples, I don’t know if there’s much of them in the chapter 3 or 4, as those two are where the quality really starts to rise, but I can excuse it for the first two chapters, each chapter costs like 3 dollars , considering there’s only two devs working on the game and they also have college. I respect the prices and don’t regret spending my money, after all, it’s not that much and helps them make each chapter better then last one, considering that, they did start using less free samples with the 3 and 4 chapters, You can correct me if I’m wrong, but I can tell that I didn’t notice anything that felt out of place in those two chapters and that’s what makes a difference.

Overall surroundings are more polished now too, it’s a mix of a facility and kinder Garten, they worked with children but they had to keep it professional with the huge void under the facility. It can explain the amount of bottomless pits in the game and odd mix of professional and childish ornaments in the rooms. Also the safety hazards can be explained too! BanBan did talk about “we should have spoken up sooner” and that really makes it seem like the heads of the facility didn’t really care for safety of their workers, so much they ignored the countless containment breaches of the specimens , death of facility workers and maybe even children..

Im getting a bit sidetracked with the lore here, but with such simple yet memorable style, I think they did a great job. It doesn’t fit well with the established mascot horror quality, but it has it’s charm and I think a game about a scientific facility turned into a kindergarten wouldn’t feel the same with some complicated high budget textures.

Talking about high budget textures.. I don’t really like what the two weeks remaster of Garten of BanBan did with the game, maybe yeah it added more detail to the surroundings, but it stopped giving away this too polished and deeply fake childcare center feeling, and man, Opila bird does look much better in the original, mutants don’t even have blood and are supposed to look like cartoons, not whatever this guy did to them.

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Gameplay

[Puzzles]

That’s something I heard complaints about a lot, but In my opinion, I didn’t see anything wrong with the gameplay, it’s easy yes, but that’s what makes it good, you can easily fly through the game without getting stuck on some task you just can’t figure out(Except snail hall we all suffered there at least for two tries). In fact, the tasks are actually enjoyable, specially in chapter 4! They are more fast paced and give you more to work with, but I can go as far as to say that I liked puzzles even from the second game, as Yet again, they are simple but still make you think a bit, which gives you a satisfaction of solution without getting stuck in one place for hours. The simplicity of the puzzles fits with the overall kindergarten style, in fact some of the tasks were made as entertainment for the workers, which explains why they are supposed to be more entertaining then difficult, obviously Chapter 4 has the best puzzles, specially when you have lil beak around and can take her everywhere. But looking back at the older ones, they were neat too!I liked the first puzzle in chapter 2 where you have to press buttons depending on the worker’s rate on the board, it’s extremely simple but satisfying non the less, plus I kinda failed it..twice on my second run because I was rushing.

[Drone]

The drone is a nice puzzle tool if you get the hang of it, people rush a lot when using it and usually that’s what makes it an annoying experience, (Drone is indeed good mental support, you can’t prove me wrong>:)) Maybe you could call it a useless unreasonable problem maker, but those are not more then another puzzles you have to solve, maybe you don’t like to solve so many puzzles, well that’s your opinion I don’t judge, but it’s kinda a base game mechanic that devs wanted to space out the main events and puzzles with. And I think it works quite well, with all the different tasks you have to do here and there, getting back to a mechanic that you recognise and is used to is a good thing to keep you busy but not overwhelmed. It was kind of unnecessary in chapter 2 but I think devs did a great job on the new ones, they don’t use it to open each door and manage it quite well with other more differing puzzles.

[Chase sequences/Boss fights]

I must say the chase sequences in this game are quite boring most of the time, the main issue is how extended and slow paced they feel, sprinting doesn’t really feel like sprinting and there’s not much dynamic in the chase, it’s a quick time event, but even for how simple BanBan is, those are just too simple, it would be nice if the boss fights had more to them then dodge or run away and stuff, I must say, if you know what to do in a kittyzaurus fight, it’s quite enjoyable! But the chameleon-turtle one is just meh, it’s just too long and doesn’t have much going on, main focus is only the attacks that happen very slowly, kittyzaurus fight is good because it gives you less time to prepare for the Kitty’s dash into your direction, so you actually have to constantly move and keep focus on the boss. For good side, the snail hall(chapter 2) nabNab chase in the werehouse (chapter 2) and bird riding(chapter 3) were a highlight, they had a challenge in them, an additional task that makes the running away process much more entertaining and I hope that the devs will do this more in the future!

[additional thoughts]

What I also hear people complain about is how spaced out and long the backtracking is, and sadly I have to agree here, as I said before sprinting in this game doesn’t feel like sprinting, and you become quickly frustrated by going through so many hallways over and over again, like the distance between Queen’s lobby and elevator is painfully long, it didn’t had to be so big. I hope there will be shortcuts in the next chapters so players could skip the long walks in the empty hallways:’) Also want to leave a thought here that chapters 2 and 4 final chases felt meh, but the build up on the 4th is something worthy talking about! That’s what next topic is about.

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Character writing

A LOT OF SPOILERS stop reading here and go straight to conclusions if you don’t want to get spoiled

BanBan

That’s probably going to be my favourite topic, as Chapter 4 really opened my eyes on the character’s situation, relations and interactions, and again I really hope they’ll do more in the future! Let’s begin with Banban, as I see his storyline as the most interesting one. It’s said in the notes that BanBan is “the devil” who believes to be a human and completely ignores his mutant appearance, in chapter 4 we get his inside oh now his friends betrayed him, looked at him like he’s a monster and didn’t talk to him at all , leaving him when all in the facility started to crumble. First, BanBan’s DNA is mixed up with a DNA of one of the workers, which could very well explain his tired , careless and very human voice. BanBan believes he is human, he acts like one, cares for others like a human, feels betrayed because he always thought he is one. His friends looked at him like at a monster because he was created one, but he never realised that, thinking they turned their backs on him for no reason, as he still thinks he’s one of them. That could also explain why he is the only one who’s actually willing to help us find our children outside of Queen and Sheriff..maybe he’s willing to help, I can’t really tell. But if you think about it, BanBan’s situation is frocking sad and very much understood, with his sudden switches to devilish hunger and thirst for organs, he is trying to get out of the facility and help the mutants at the same time, maybe he sees them as humans too?… He surely tried to fix NabNab, as he said several times, he’s genuinely trying to help and bring back senses to them , refusing or just not knowing it’s impossible. It can explain his trauma when he killed NabNab in chapter 4, it’s his snap and finale , he tried to save them , but ended up hurting with this “devil side” , and it’s obvious he regrets every time it happens, he was very sorry when we meet him in the hospital and he even wanted to help us again , he finally felt like he can hold it and be useful, he said this himself. Be there for us in person!..but yet. It happened again. And this time with someone who he was always finding excuses and ways to help for. In chapter 2 he acts selfish and fishy, but you can see how he starts to care for NabNab, seems like his human senses come back to him more with each chapter, and it breaks my heart to just leave him in this room with dead NabNab alone with his did, I hope there’s a way to help him out, and I can tell that this is a good character writing, maybe Im not a professional. But with all of this I said just now, he does seem more attractive as a personality, doesn’t he?

It reminds me of Stinger Flynn’s dream sequence in chapter 4, surely the ending was..crazy and out of place , but what happened before it made me chuckle and wonder about the other characters too, it’s kinda cute and very natural of BanBan to say lIm not good with this stuff” when Stinger Flynn needed comfort with his.. endless sorrow. His “not again” really made me chuckle, relatable man…

Stinger Flynn

Despite being the most deep sounding and biggest in all meanings character of the game, his goals are very simple, to be a normal jellyfish and aimlessly swim in the real sea. I could understand his exhaustion with all the knowledge he somehow got, and it seems like he struggles to control the most unpleasant emotions there can be, anger and sorrow. No wonder he wants a life where those can’t exist at all! Did you know that Jellyfish is like the simplest organism there is? Peck they can live forever but they have no brains, that’s the life you would definitely want as a huge mega mind depressed jellyfish. He is aggressive often , but he seems to keep us alive for some purpose, from that many encounters he didn’t even once actually hurt us, but instead we had a glance at his beginnings with every dream sequence he gave us, maybe there’s something he tried to tell us? In his dreams we also can have a better look at other characters, know them better and see them actually interact, they are chaotic but I must say that the dream from chapter 4 is really good at giving us insight on him and BanBan, even NabNab(rest in peace lil bud) as NabNab actually shows us a kind gestire, which could be a hint at the fact that NabNab actually has potential in being “fixed”. I hope he’s alive and there’s still a chance….

Bittergiggle , sheriff Toadster and the Queen

Well well well, I can say that chapter 4 had the best character showcase in comparison to all the previous chapters. Bittergiggle is simple in his nature, yet he just clicks with those two. All three are playing their roles, they are the caricatures given life and their purpose is their life. Toadster protects his Queen and the Queen rules her kingdom of one, something they were made or believe they were made to do , but Bittergiggle wasn’t satisfied in his need, as he couldn’t make the Queen laugh, something he was made to do. When there were humans around, maybe he was satisfied but now there’s none, and without making someone laugh he didn’t feel like he’s living, he wasn’t doing what he was made to do, then what is the point? He said himself that he desperately tried to prove himself that there’s things more important then laughter( said it himself) but the existential crisis couldn’t make him keep his mouth shut for long, it’s unfair that everyone get to play their roles but he can’t, and it’s a good motivation, maybe one we won’t understand fully, but it makes him am reasonable villain of our story and when he finally gets what he wanted, oh did it hit hard. The chase sequence after the escape of “naughty ones” was not living up to the build up, but I’m surely invested in what will happen in the next chapter

And I feel very bad for lil beak, hope we’ll get to meet our kiddo some time soon…

Also some additional stuff I like, BanBan hides his horns under the party hats, maybe when they go off he automatically gets into his satanic side? I’m really curious on how Stinger Flynn managed to make him evil for that moment and how he turns back, but maybe that will always be left out of scene, still, that’s a cool ahh detail for the little amount of details that they have!

Other characters are simpler in their nature, but I must say that Snail, Banbaleena, NabNab and Sheriff are good to, I can’t really do the analysis here as this essay is huge already, sorry:’)

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CONCLUSION

All in all, Garten of BanBan is not for everyone, but it surely doesn’t deserve to be called the worst mascot horror. If you take a look at the game from the inside and not from the perspective of those who keep listening to how shit the game is, you really can find it very much entertaining and interesting if you throw all this rumble away!

I don’t make you go and buy the game or praise it, it has it’s flaws and I’m a bit disappointed in Dev’s complaints about people refunding the game , people should do with their money whatever they want. But I hope the devs learned from backlash and won’t do this again:’D

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The game is becoming better and better with each chapter, Devs are good at choosing on what to improve and it’s respectable, I wish them to keep doing what they’re doing and please restock the Plushies or make new ones Im 😭😭😭😭😭 for them. Thank you for the game too<:3

And thank you for reading this! Hope my rumbling gave you an interesting perspective, I’m terrible at essays and is often flying in the clouds and getting sidetracked, but I really wanted to share my thoughts and put them out in this world,,, Get well BanBan, I’ll be waiting for the next chapters and putting them all on my shelf so they’ll look pretty 💗