#3 piece sectional living room set

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[mostly-imagines]

Guard Dog vol. II

jason todd x fem!reader

aka don’t fuck with jason’s gf pt. II

3 in 1 blurbs

warnings: mild standard gotham violence, in the 3rd section: attempted sexual assault and panicky thoughts afterwards from reader

“Sweetheart, this is…not good.”

You turn your head over to him, where he’s frowning, hands on his hips as he inspects your bedroom window.

You tilt your head, looking it over from your place on the couch. “What’s wrong with it?”

He sighs, “Well for one, the lock is broken. But even if it weren’t, this thing would be so easy to break.”

“It’s the lock the place came with.” You shrug. At least it has a lock. In Gotham that’s kind of asking a lot.

“Yeah, I can tell.” He frowns at the window once again, moving over to stand behind the couch. “I’m getting you better locks.” He looks to you, “I can install them tomorrow?”

You tilt your head up to look at him, “You don’t need to get me new locks, Jay…”

“Okay.” He kisses your head, “I’m getting them.”

You sigh in defeat, though your smile makes it lose its credibility. “Tomorrow’s fine. I assume you’re staying the night, then?”

He makes his way to the kitchen as he says, “Well, I’m not leaving you alone here with this piece of shit the only thing between you and Gotham.”

“I’ve lived here for two years.” You say flatly.

“Don’t remind me.” He mumbles as he moves behind the counter. “Actually, your door chain’s broken too, isn’t it?” It is, but that’s his own fault.

You had a long day a couple weeks ago and had a very long, very hot shower the second you got home. Unfortunately, it had slipped your mind to text him that you were home safe and he’d broken through the chain in one try to make sure you were okay.

You hum, “It wasn’t doing much anyways.” Clearly.

He grimaces as he heats up the stove for dinner.

You laugh lightly, “What?”

He looks back at you with a frankly adorable frown, “I don’t like that.”

You’d never thought much of it. You hadn’t had any—well, many—problems living here before, and you still had your deadbolt and handle lock.

“It’s okay. I’m safe here.”

He looks like he strongly disagrees. He comes back over, sitting next to you, taking your face in his hands. “Will you please let me set up some security measures around here?”

“Did Jason Todd just say please?” You say in faux-shock.

He rolls his eyes at you, “I’m serious.”

You sigh, contemplatively. “I don’t want my apartment looking like the Home Alone set.”

He laughs at that, “It’s not going to. You won’t even notice most of them. Just do it for me, please?”

“I’ll agree, but only because I know you’re going to do it anyways and I’d like to pretend I have control over this.” That’s not true, you’d agree to literally anything if he said please that sweetly again, but that’s your business.

“Fair enough.” He smiles, kissing your cheek.

No, it’s not fair at all.

It’s late. You’re not even sure how late but the city has calmed from its usual noises, indicating that your boyfriend will be home soon.

You’re coming up heavy on cramps tonight and according to the mockingly empty spot in your medicine cabinet, you’re out of ibuprofen. Yeah, it’s late, but the store on the corner is a three minute walk and fuck your stomach hurts. Jason wouldn’t like it if you went out without telling him though, so maybe you should wait until—

The sound of the living room window sliding open breaks you away from your thoughts, followed by a clatter of something hitting the ground.

You walk back into the dimly lit room, finding your boyfriend sliding the window shut again, holsters abandoned on the ground. He turns and collapses onto the couch face first, body immediately gone limp.

“Hey, baby.” You bite back a laugh, coming over to rub his muscled back from behind the couch. He groans into the cushion in response. “Why don’t you go get in bed?”

He hums almost imperceptibly, sitting up and rubbing his eyes roughly with his palms.

He stands and takes your hand in his as he passes by, tugging you towards the bedroom. The deep ache in your abdomen reminds you of your earlier train of thought. You pull your hand back, stopping in your tracks.

He turns back to you with a frown, wanting to know what could possibly be getting in his way of falling asleep, holding you close.

“I gotta go pick up some ibuprofen. I’ll be right back.” You say quietly, not wanting to disturb the quietness of the night for him. His frown deepens as you head towards the door, watching you.

You’ve got your purse in hand and are reaching for the handle when you hear his footsteps following in suit. “Hey, it’s okay. Stay here, I’m just going to the 24 hour store on the corner.”

He shakes his head, “You’re not going out in Gotham alone at two in the morning. Put your coat on, it’s cold.”

You do as you’re told, shrugging the coat on as you glance over at him. “Jason, it’s okay. You’re exhausted, go to sleep.”

He ignores you, throwing a sweatshirt on to cover up his armor, and follows you out the door; albeit far more sluggish than usual.

He was right though, the night air is bitter and slaps your face with every step forward you take. He lingers a few steps behind you, honest to god almost falling asleep mid step a couple times.

Frankly, you’re not even sure what kind of fight he’d be able to put up in this state. Though, he’s surprised you plenty of times before. In any case, his head snaps up every time there’s any sign of movement around, instantly on alert.

He trails behind you as you browse through the narrow aisles, hands stuffed in his sweatshirt.

As you’re standing at the store counter paying, his neck is craned forward, resting on your shoulder. You rub soothing circles into his hand with your thumb, though you’re sure it’s not doing anything to help his exhaustion.

You’re walking back home, the bite of the air a bit more forgiving in this direction. There’s another man walking down the sidewalk approaching, hands in pocket.

Jason’s too tired to bother with subtlety, glaring directly at the passerby before he could even think of trying anything. And it works, because the guy averts his gaze real quick and speeds up past you.

He continues working at his post from just behind you all the way until you’re back inside your apartment.

He takes the medicine container out of his pocket and cracks it open for you, wordlessly filling up a glass of water after. You gulp down a couple of the pills, and he takes the glass and bottle out of your hand the second you’re done, setting them on the counter.

He turns to you, eyes barely open, mumbling, “Can we sleep now?”

You smile at his fatigued state and take his hand, leading him to the bedroom.

Your neighbor likes you. You know it, Jason knows it.

The worst he’d done was flirt with you, badly, and shut his mouth real quick whenever your boyfriend emerged from your apartment.

And Jason let that go; he knows better than anybody that you’re heavenly and sweet and clever, of course this fucking guy likes you. Jason set an unspoken rule with himself, that he won’t get violent with any guys unless they put their hands on you. Something he knows for absolute fact your neighbor has not done.

At least he hadn’t until a couple of hours ago. You’d been in the hallway at the mailslots, your boyfriend nowhere in sight, when he decided it was the perfect time to make a move. Make several moves, actually.

You’re sitting on the couch, knees to chest, still trying to wrap your mind wround what had happened when Jason sees you. You stopped crying a while ago and you’ve entered the phase of…well. That happened.

Your hear keys jingling outside the door, followed by your boyfriend's entrance. He’s carrying some grocery bags and has a book tucked under his chin.

He lets the bags slide off his arms, and sets the book on the counter with them, beaming, “You’re never gonna guess what b—“ His smile drops when he sees you. “What’s wrong?”

You shake your head, “Nothing.” But your blinking feels off all of a sudden, and you can’t remember what you usually do with your face when you’re not lying. It doesn’t matter though, you could be an academy award winning actress and you’re still sure Jason would be able to see right through you with a single glance.

He frowns, “Don’t lie to me.” He moves towards you, kneeling down in front of you. “Please. What’s wrong?” His eyes are worried now, more than usual.

You don’t want him to worry about this. He already worries about you too much and he’s got all his vigilante stuff and…you just want to believe that this is a manageable situation and not a problem. Not something that affected you.

“It’s just…it’s not a big deal, okay? I can handle it—”

His posture stiffens and his voice suddenly goes low and serious, “What happened?”

You know where this is going. “Jason. Promise me you won’t do anything.”

His brow furrows, and his frown turns to something closer to anger. “Did someone put their hands on you? Who?”

“Jason—”

“Who did it?”

“The neighbor, b—” he immediately snaps to a stand and starts towards the door. You hurry to grab onto his hand before he can escape your proximity, “Jason. Please don’t.”

The break in your voice is enough to make his rage falter and turn back around to face you.

“Baby, if he touched you—” His eyes are pleading, begging you to let him go take care of this. If not for you, then for him.

“It wasn’t—he didn’t do anything. He didn’t get to. I hit him and he backed off.” Which is…sort of true.

He stares at you. “In the hallway?”

You blink. “…Yeah?”

He takes off towards the bedroom wordlessly. You follow quickly on his tail, watching him sit on the edge of your bed, opening his computer and clicking through it quickly.

You slide over next to him, and see that he's pulling up a file under the name of your building and today’s date. It takes you two seconds too long to realize what he’s doing, the thought only sinking in right as you see the hallway security camera footage on the screen.

“Jason—” you try to close the computer but he bats your hand away.

He forwards through the footage, as you scramble trying and failing to reach past him, various building occupants coming in and out of frame rapidly.

“—please just listen to me.” But he did listen to you, and he heard that someone tried to hurt you. That was all he needed to hear.

He stops when he sees you enter the frame, watching closely. He sees you flipping through the mail. He sees your neighbor slither out of his apartment and stand far too close to you. You take a step back only to be met with two steps forward by him. He says something to you, probably asking where your boyfriend is.

The angle doesn’t show his face, but it does see yours, and you look incredibly uncomfortable. You don’t answer him, which evidently was enough of an answer in itself.

Your neighbor tries to brush some of your hair out of your face but you snap your head away, stumbling back a little. He uses your lack of balance as an “excuse” to grab onto your waist, pulling you close to him.

Your hands are out in front of you and you’re shaking your head as he pushes towards you. His lips land on your neck and you try to move backwards, but he grabs your wrists and holds you in place.

You fight against his grip, and upon realizing that your struggling doesn’t matter to him at all, you dig your nails into his wrists so hard you draw blood. He groans in pain and his grip on you loosens.

You snap your hands away and push yourself away, locking yourself in your apartment. Your neighbor lingers for a moment, shouting something at the door before trudging back into his apartment and slamming the door.

Jason snaps the laptop shut, coming to a stand once again. His fists clinch at his sides. “That was not nothing.”

No, it wasn’t. But you feel so helpless right now. You sure as hell felt it in the hallway, and it keeps lingering in you and you’re not sure why. You couldn’t do anything then, you can’t do anything now…it feels like all the bad things in the world are closing in on you and you just have to let it happen.

“I…I don’t want anyone to die because of me…” your words aren’t quite matching your thoughts, but this is the closest you can get right now.

He pulls back to look at you, brows furrowed. “It’s—it’s not because of you. It’s because of him. Baby, if I were on patrol and saw him grab some other girl like that I’d do the same thing.”

You know that. You know that. But communication seems impossible right now even though it’s the only tool you have to stop things from closing in.

“No, I know that. I know…it’s just…” Things are closing in anyways. Alright, this is happening now. Your eyes start watering and your voice trembles.

“Fuck, baby.” His hand flies to the back of your head, other arm wrapping around your middle, pulling you to him.

You feel a bit silly, crying over the potential death of someone who tried to hurt you, in front of the Red Hood of all people.

“I’m sorry, I—I don’t know. It’s—it’s too many bad things. I can’t…”

“Okay. Okay. It’s okay. I’ll stay here. I’m staying here with you, okay?” You nod into his chest, tears dampening his shirt.

This is a temporary solution, you know that even now. But you think once it expires, it might be easier to accept whatever Jason’s going to do later.

He’s quiet for a few minutes, holding you in his arms as you sway back and forth lightly.

“Will you forgive me if I kill him?” He whispers into your hair.

You roll your eyes but smile nonetheless. “Don’t.”

“Is that a yes?”

You pull back to look him in the eyes, face setting. “I’m getting the feeling you’re going to do something regardless of how this conversation ends.” He says nothing. “Just, please, don’t kill him.”

He holds you tighter and you do the same, laying your head against his chest again. You feel him press a kiss to your head as he takes a deep breath.

You think on it for a moment, figuring it needs saying, “And don’t get in trouble.”

Your neighbor comes home late that night, trudging through the front door with a perpetual frown. He opens the door to his notably unlocked apartment. He drops his bag on the ground with a thump and flicks on the lamp next to the door. He shuts the door and turns the lock when the red elephant in the room pipes up.

“Hey, bud.”

He jumps, spinning around, “Who the fuck—oh, shit.” He freezes the second he sees him, sitting in the armchair across the room. The Red Hood nods, loading the gun in his hand.

Your neighbor stutters, “What—what are you doing here?”

He looks up at him, cocking the gun. “You put your hands on your neighbor, yeah?”

He looks fake-shocked at the accusation. “What? No, I would ne—which neighbor?”

He can’t see it, but Hood’s face drops into a deadpan. “That is really not helping your case.”

Your neighbor eyes the gun nervously.

Hood sighs, “I’m not going to kill you. I’ve been told it’s bad manners to execute someone the first time you meet.” He glances down the nail marks on his arm and steels his jaw. “No. What’s going to happen is you’re going to break your lease and move out. Within the next week.”

The neighbors eyes widen, “A week? Are you insane?”

Hood tilts his head a bit before shaking it, “Nah, you’re right. By tomorrow night.”

“This is my apartment. I live here, I’m not going anywhere. And unless you’re secretly Saul the landlord under there, you can’t do anything about it.” He crosses his arms, clearly feeling very proud of himself. Well, killing him isn’t the only option, is it?

Hood stands, making his way across the room casually. “Yeah, I thought you’d say that.” He clocks him hard on the head with the frame of his gun. He goes down quickly and loudly, clutching his head, groaning. “The alternative is getting beaten half to death and hoping whatever hospital you end up at knows what they’re doing.”

Honestly, neighbor boy is pressing his luck as is. Maybe it was a bad idea for Jason to bring the gun.

“Fuck! Fine! I’ll go!” He wails.

Hood kicks his abdomen with the side of his boot, though not nearly as hard as he wanted to. “Shut up. You’ll disturb the neighbors.”

The neighbor groans again, quieter. He mumbles something about Hood being crazy but it gets lost under the grunts of pain.

Hood crouches down next to him, patting him on the head with the barrel of his gun. “Don’t worry, bud. I’ll check up on you. And if I ever see you so much as look in the general direction of another girl I’ll put a bullet in your head. Sound good?”

Your former neighbor drops his head to the ground, hand still clutching the growing swell on his forehead.

[mymindisneverhere]

FAVORS (3)

Part Three

warnings: 18+, MDNI!, no smut, sub!Terry, soft dom!black fem OC, explicit language, lots of dialogue, slow burn (forgive me if I missed any)

Masterlist

Terry stood in the large living room, looking at himself in the full body mirror as he tightened his tie. He stared at this version of himself for a long minute. He wasn’t the tuxedo wearing type but he had to admit it didn’t look bad on him. 

Khloé had managed to hire the perfect tailor to be sure the tux would fit just right. Terry spent hours being measured, trying on different jackets and pants, and walking back and forth to ensure comfort while wearing the tux. 

She was there for every moment of it, taking him in each time he removed a shirt and replaced it with a different one. She noticed the scar on his back near his right shoulder. She wanted so badly to ask him about being shot but she decided not to. She assumed that would be too much of a sensitive subject and she didn’t want to go that route.  

Terry looked down at his watch, a simple black watch that had to be approved by Khloé of course. He was big on being punctual as well, so he made sure to keep up with time even when Khloé wasn’t. 

“Your car is down stairs, everything is set and ready to go.” Olivia said, walking into the living room. 

Terry turned to face her unsure of who she was talking to. 

“I’m driving?” 

“Yes sir, a luxury sedan has been rented for the evening. Ms. MacArthur prefers not to have drivers, she’s very strict on privacy.” Olivia spoke quickly. “The destination is already in the GPS for you. The directions will begin as soon as you pull off.” 

“Thank you.” Terry nodded and proceeded to take a seat on the large sectional sofa. He looked down at his phone, reading the messages that were pouring in from Summer. 

‘A $16,000 check just came in the mail, I know you had something to do with it!!’

‘I can’t accept this, how am I going to pay it back?’ 

‘This is too good to be true, call me as soon as you can!’ 

He was so focused on the text messages, he didn’t notice Khloé enter the room until the scent of soft florals hit his nostrils.  

“How do I look?” She asked, staring at him, a bit of innocence in her voice. 

He eyed her, starting from her feet and making his way up to the crown of her head. The long red dress she wore accentuated her hips and brought in her waist. The details were subtle but didn’t go unnoticed by Terry. The strapless dress lifted her breasts, bringing out the natural shape of them. Her hair was pinned in a beautiful updo with a few pieces framing her face, a soft curl in each. And to top it all off her signature red lip, which was clearly her favorite… and his. 

The longer he stared, the more she felt herself wanting to shrink a bit but she did her best to remain unmoved. He hardly ever wore his emotions on his sleeve so reading him was becoming a bit of a challenge for her. The nervous feeling quickly began to fade as she saw his expression soften. 

“You look beautiful.” He stood. “Red fits you perfectly.” 

She smiled at him. 

“Well let’s go, I really don’t wanna be late.” She said, grabbing her small clutch purse. “My mother won’t let me hear the last of it.” 

They headed to the lobby of the condominium. As they passed through, they earned a few stares. People couldn’t help but to turn their attention to the two of them. Khloé strutting across the floor, Terry not too far behind her. They both had very demanding auras and together their energies swarmed the room without warning. 

“I have a question.” Terry said. 

“Ask.” 

“Is this something I need to get used to?” Terry questioned, referring to the looks they received a while ago. 

“Absolutely.” She smiled up at him. 

Their car was parked in front, a young man wearing a valet jacket stood by to be sure the car went untouched. The glossy black sedan sat already running, headlights shining bright. 

Without her needing to say anything, Terry walked ahead of her and opened the passenger door, waiting for her to climb in. 

“Ooh,” She started. “Keep it up and you might earn yourself a treat.” 

Terry smirked, trying his hardest to hide his amusement. He got into the driver's seat and adjusted the seat to his liking, scooting it back until he had the proper leg room. 

“A few things I need to go over before we get there.” She began. “If anyone asks where we met, we met on vacation.” 

“How long have we been together?” He asked, putting the gear in drive and pulling off. 

“6 months. Tell them you’re in real estate. They’re gonna wanna know if you make enough money to be with me.” 

He looked over at her as they approached a red light. 

“My family only sees money, they believe that’s the only thing that’ll keep me happy. They don’t care about love or any emotions for that matter. As long as the money flows, they will mind their damn business.” She said looking over at him. 

They stared at each other for a few seconds until the bright traffic light went green. Khloé went on to tell him how he should go about speaking to her parents, what to say and what to do. She filled him in on the latest drama with her siblings and her cousins and made sure to tell him who to look out for and who to avoid at all costs. 

“Anything else I should know?” 

“Lastly, my cousin Nia. She’s a bitch. I hate her, she hates me. She’s been in competition with me since we were teenagers. I get a car, she gets a car, I get a diamond bracelet, she gets a diamond bracelet, I go to Harvard, bitch breaks her neck to go to Yale.” She pointed a stern finger to him. “You can mingle with anyone at the banquet but stay away from that sneaky bitch.” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

The car ride the rest of the way was silent but the tension was impossible to ignore. Every now and then Khloé would sneak glances over at Terry while he drove, one hand on the wheel the other on his lap. She stared at his hands imagining what they’d feel like inside of her. Images of him playing in her pussy while he drove began flashing in her mind and she quickly tore her gaze from him.

He could feel her eyes on him but his expression never changed. If there was one thing he’d taken away from being a marine, it was keeping his poker face intact. There was no way she’d know what he was really thinking unless he decided to let it be known.  

“You have reached your destination.” 

They pulled up in front of the large banquet hall surrounded by guests and valet. Finally coming back into reality Khloé took a deep breath before exiting the car. 

“I got it.” Terry said, before she could grab the door handle. 

Khloé smiled to herself. ‘This one comes trained.’

He rounded the car and opened her door, placing his hand out for her to grab. She stepped out of the car and smiled at some of the guests who were entering the banquet the same time as her. 

“Ready?” She asked. 

“Ready.” 

They reached for each other's hands simultaneously, intertwining their fingers as they made their way into the building. The sound of soft music playing in the background filled their ears, along with light chatter from guests. 

They stopped at the double doors that were propped open, leading into the ballroom. Turning to him, she began fixing his tie, not that it needed fixing but to simply try and cover her nervousness. She tightened his tie, dusted his shoulders and tugged lightly on his collar. 

“I make you that nervous?” Terry smirked, staring down at her. 

“As pretty as your lips are, they're gonna keep you in trouble.” She smirked back. “Let’s enjoy the banquet.” 

Khloe held onto his arm as they entered the large ballroom. Each table was draped in white cloth, expensive tableware and champagne flutes. A large banner with the words “MacArthur Banquet” hung from the ceiling just above the small stage in the room. Khloé looked around the room taking in her surroundings. Unlike Terry, Khloé didn’t do that good of a job at hiding her emotions. 

She worried about what her parents' would think of her date. She’d hoped and prayed they wouldn’t go digging into his background to find out that not only is he a warehouse worker but that he’s also a bit of a rebel. 

“Princess!” Mr. MacArthur announced, snapping her of her thoughts. 

“Hi Daddy!” She ran to him, giving him a hug as he placed a soft kiss on her cheek. 

She greeted the woman standing next to him, placing a kiss on her cheek as well. Terry stood, admiring how they embraced each other. It was clear to him that this was her mother, the woman was a spitting image of Khloé just a bit older. 

“It’s so good to see you, you look so beautiful.” Mrs. MacArthur smiled, holding onto her daughter's hand. 

Her father tore his eyes from her and they landed on Terry. “Who is this?” 

“Mom, Dad, this is Terrance.” Khloé stepped back to stand next to Terry, placing a hand on his arm. 

“Terrance this is my dad, John MacArthur and my mom Angela MacArthur.” 

“You got a last name Terrance?” Mr. MacArthur asked, placing his hand out for Terry to shake. 

“Terrance Richmond sir, it’s a pleasure to meet you both.” Terry responded, firmly shaking the man’s hand and then her mothers. 

“The pleasure is ours. It’s good to see she has someone keeping her company. I just hope you’re a strong and patient man, my Khloé can be a handful at times.” Mrs. MacArthur smiled up at him. She turned her gaze to her daughter, bringing her into another embrace. “Don’t screw this one over, okay? You don’t want to be old and alone.” 

Khloé clenched her jaw before replacing the menacing look with a fake grin. Mr. MacArthur and Mrs. MacArthur excused themselves from the two as they made their way around the room, greeting guests as they entered. 

Terry noticed the sudden change in Khloés expression no matter how hard she tried to disguise it. 

“You okay?” He asked. 

“I’m fine.” She responded, running her hands down the length of her dress. “Let’s have a seat, they’re about to begin.” 

The family banquet began with greetings from Mr. and Mrs. MacArthur. The couple stood on stage thanking guests for joining them for another banquet and proceeded with their usual program. 

The banquet was yet another success as it had been for the past few years. There were small awards and acknowledgments being made all evening. From praises for large sales, increasing income and openings of new locations for the family business, the banquet had gone exactly as planned. 

However Terry couldn’t help but sense Khloés tense energy. It didn’t help that she had become a bit fidgety. Fixing her hair every 10 minutes, wiping invisible lent from his jacket and plastering an artificial smile on her face each time she would interact with the other guests. 

It wasn’t necessarily Terry's place to ask her about her relationship with her parents but he was very curious. He tried his hardest to remind himself of why he was even there to begin with. 

‘I’m doing her a favor, she’s doing me a favor.’ 

“I’m gonna go catch up with a few people, you’ll be alright by yourself won’t you?” She asked. 

“I’m a big boy, I’ll be fine.” He replied, taking a sip of water. 

“Stop testing me Mr. Richmond.” She warned, referring to his smart comment. 

He smiled, placing his glass back on the table. 

Khloé got up and made her way around the room for a bit, grabbing glasses of champagne as they were being offered to her. She mingled with family and friends, sharing memories of the past and hopes of the future. After a few glasses, she was really feeling the effects of the alcohol. A sudden boost of confidence washed over her, bringing her right back to her normal self. 

Remembering she had the finest gentleman in the room as her date, she wanted to make sure she was attending to him. She looked over to their table, hoping his eyes were already on her. Her excitement quickly faded once she noticed who he was talking to. 

“Excuse me, I hope I’m not being too forward but you are so handsome.” A woman said, causing Terry to look her way. 

She was tall, slim and snatched like a supermodel. She was a pretty woman but her style clashed with her looks. She wore a royal blue dress, bright gold accessories and red lipstick. Almost similar to Khloés but not quite. 

“Thank you.” He smiled humbly. 

“I’m Imani, I’m Khloés older cousin.” She held out her hand, palm facing down as if she was waiting for him to kiss it. 

He stared at it for a few seconds and decided to shake it instead. 

“Nice to meet you Imani, I’m Terrance.”

Imani laughed, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Respecting your girlfriend I see, but I understand. I’m sure if she found out I was talking to you she’d lose her shit. She’s been in a silent competition with me since we were kids but she’s my little cousin so I’m flattered.” 

Terry nodded, allowing the woman to speak freely simply because he wasn’t interested in speaking to her at all. There was just something about her energy that wasn’t sitting right with him but he didn’t want to be entirely rude to her. After all, he was a guest at her family’s event. 

“Oops, I should go, she’s staring. Don’t wanna get you in any trouble. Enjoy the night handsome.” She said flipping her ponytail off of her shoulder and twisting her hips as hard as she could hoping he was watching. 

But his eyes met Khloés from across the room. She didn’t necessarily look pissed but she didn’t look too happy either. The look on her face was stern almost as if he had done something he wasn’t supposed to. He quickly recalled the name of the person he was told not to mingle with. 

‘Nia.’ He thought to himself, shrugging because he was in the clear. 

He relaxed in his chair, sitting back and parting his legs from one another but she still hadn’t broken their gaze. It was as if they were communicating with one another without needing to say anything at all.

After a few moments, she smiled and made her way across the room to him.   

“Dance with me Mr. Richmond.” She stated, staring down at him through a tipsy gaze. 

Terry stood as she grabbed his hand and led them to the small dance floor. They joined a few other guests on the floor as well. Some were relatives of Khloés, others just friends of the family. 

Once they reached a secure spot, they embraced each other. Khloé wrapped her arms around his neck, silently thanking herself for wearing heels given his height. Terry’s hands snaked around her waist and they slowly swayed to the soft music. The longer they danced, the more Terry could feel Khloé slowly relaxing in his embrace. 

They rested their heads against the others, her forehead comfortable against this jaw. 

“Can I be honest with you?” Khloé asked.

“Of course.” 

“I didn’t tell you the full reason as to why I offered you the money to be my boyfriend.” She started. 

“Why am I not surprised?” 

“I mean yes I need you for events and to keep my family quiet but…” Her voice faded. 

“But?” 

She took a deep breath and told him all that he needed to know. 

“The truth is I want you in the worst way.”

She felt his jaw clench against her temple as she spoke.

“The moment I saw you, the things I began to see in my mind were so… vivid.” 

“What did you see?” He questioned, keeping his voice as low as possible. 

Khloés breath caught in her throat at his question. She thought her honesty would tear him from her. Her admitting that she was simply lusting after him should’ve bothered him but instead he leaned into it. 

“I imagined the view I’d have of you, from down on my knees. I imagined how much fun I would have edging you until you begged me to let you cum. I saw myself tying you to the bed and riding you for as long as I wanted.” 

Terry’s jaw clenched once more but he remained silent, still holding onto her waist.  

“You’d cum again and again and again.” The longer she spoke, the easier it was becoming to speak freely. 

She looked around the room to be sure no one was paying them any attention and she was right. They continued to sway back and forth to the soft music being played by the live band. She could feel his heartbeat increase as she held onto him. His breathing was steady but the rest of him was rising. 

“I felt bad at first because you seemed like a sweet and innocent guy. But in all honesty, I enjoy dominating men.” She admitted. “Not just any men but the ones who reek of dominance, men like you. The ones who walk around so unbothered, so unfazed. Always wearing a straight face because nothing can sway you. But I know you want to feel my lips around your dick. That’s why you get so stuck in a daze staring at them while I’m talking to you.” She spoke, her lips gently brushing against his neck.

Terry let out a deep breath but still remained silent. There was no need in denying any of what she was saying because all of it was true. 

“You know what I love the most about the male anatomy? It’s that no matter how much you try to hide it, no matter how still your expression is, I’ll always know how bad you want me.” She brought her hand to the back of his head and lowered it so her lips were level with his ear. 

“I can feel you through my dress.” She whispered. 

Terry tightened the hold he had on her waist, bringing her even closer to him. He was hoping that no one else would notice the “excitement” that she was feeling. Deep down, he wanted so desperately to drag her off the dance floor and find the nearest bathroom or utility closet, but he was at her command. He wouldn’t move until she gave the green light to do so. 

“Why are you so quiet Mr. Richmond, cat got your tongue?” She teased. 

“No ma’am, I just don’t have a lot to say right now. Only a couple of things I wanna do.” 

She giggled at his response. She had him exactly where she wanted him, craving her but unable to do anything about it. They were in the middle of the dance floor surrounded by dozens of people, there was no way he’d do anything to draw attention to the two of them. 

“I was looking forward to tasting you tonight but your behavior needs adjusting.”

Terry stood up straight, bringing his eyes to meet hers. 

“What’s wrong with my behavior?” He asked, his eyes shifting back and forth between hers. 

Before Khloé could respond, her mothers voice erupted through the speakers. Khloé turned to face the stage, pressing her back against his abdomen. She figured since she was the cause for his excitement the least she could do was help him conceal it. 

“Thank you all so much for another successful MacArthur banquet! Congratulations to all of the recipients of tonight’s awards.” Mrs. MacArthur spoke into the mic. “We love to see our family and friends grow in business, in love and in prosperity as the years go by.” 

Everyone applauded as she made her closing announcements. 

“Don’t forget to grab a goodie bag on the way out and please drive home safely. We will see you all next year, goodnight and God bless!” 

Khloé turned to grab her things from their table, she said her goodbyes to her family and made her way to the car. Terry was right behind her, replaying the night in his mind. He did just as he was told, interacting with little to no guests and speaking when spoken to. So what was she talking about?

“Do you have the ticket for valet?” Khloé asked him a bit nonchalantly. 

Terry dug into his pocket and handed the ticket to the man dressed in a red jacket. Within a few minutes their car was pulled to the front of the hall. Terry opened the door for her and then made his way to the driver's side. 

“What was wrong with my behavior tonight?” Terry asked, looking over at her. 

“Just drive please.” She spoke softly, not even bothering to look over at him. 

Terry took a deep breath before pulling away from the curb. They made their way back into the streets of downtown. The ride was silent once again. Terry was racking his brain trying to figure out what she was talking about but nothing was coming to the surface. Khloé sat quietly, not planning on telling him what he did wrong until they were back at her place. 

“You have reached your destination.” 

Terry unbuckled his seatbelt and exited the car. A few seconds later, he opened Khloés door and waited for her to step out. He handed the keys to the valet and they made their way into the building. Khloé walked a few feet ahead of him, enjoying the feeling of having this grown man following behind her everywhere she went. 

Khloé pressed the button to call the elevator and stepped inside once the doors opened. Terry pressed the button marked ‘30’ and they sat silently for the majority of the ride up to her condo. 

“When we get upstairs, take off your jacket and dress shirt and wait for me in the living room.” Khloé instructed, keeping her eyes forward. 

“Yes ma’am.” 

“30th floor” 

The two made their way down the long hall and entered her home. Terry did as he was asked and placed his clothes on the arm of the couch. He took a seat, only dressed in his undershirt and pants. While Khloé was off in her room, he took this time to respond to Summers' messages letting her know that he’d be by to explain everything to her. 

Khloé stepped into her bathroom to remove her dress. She wore a black panty and bra set underneath, already prepared for the night. She grabbed her black satin robe and slipped into it, not bothering to remove her heels. Taking one last look in the mirror to be sure she looked good, she made her way into the living room. 

“Stand when I enter the room.” She spoke, causing Terry’s head to snap up. 

He stood from the couch and eyed her from head to toe. Her body was heavent sent. Decorated in lace fabric, her skin slightly glistened from the mixture of body shimmer and the soft lighting in the room. His dick began growing in his pants again as she stood there staring at him. 

“Come.” She said, pointing her finger to a spot directly in front of her. 

Terry walked around the small coffee table, slowly approaching her until the top of their shoes were almost touching. She loved that he towered over her even in her heels. As intimidating as he could be at times, she enjoyed the fact that she was the one truly in charge.  

“Before I start, you do get a say in this, I’m not a completely inconsiderate bitch.” She started. “If you don’t want to do this just say so and I’ll call it off.” 

“Did you hear me say that?” He asked. There was that smart ass mouth again. 

Khloé smirked at his question. “I need your consent Mr. Richmond.” 

“You have my consent Ms. MacArthur.” He stared down at her with a sly grin on his face. 

“You’re familiar with these right?” Khloé held up a pair of handcuffs, loosely dangling off of her fingers. 

Terry let out a light chuckle, still keeping his eyes on hers. 

“Turn around.” She instructed. 

Terry did as he was told. 

This was the first time she was seeing him nearly undressed, up close like this. Her eyes roamed from his freshly cut hair, down to the back of his neck and landed on his broad shoulders. She licked her lips as her eyes continued down the length of his toned arms, and finally landed on his ass. She held her breath as she tried to restrain herself from saying “fuck it” and pouncing on him. 

“You gone spank me for being a bad boy?” He joked sarcastically, bringing her back to the present. 

“You’re not funny. Besides I don’t like to cause pain, at least not in that way.” She answered, placing the cuffs around his wrists and clicking them closed. She grabbed his arm and walked him to the end of the sofa. She turned him round until he faced her and took a few steps back. 

They stared at each other for a while. There was no need to speak because the amount of hunger in the room from both parties spoke volumes. Terry stood tall, hands behind his back, eyes low and rested on hers. The wifebeater he wore almost clung to him the way his toned body filled the thin fabric. Terry waited patiently for her next command, his expression remaining as calm as ever. 

The only sound in the room was their breathing. Khloé stood there secretly hoping that this would be her last partner or simply one that could last her a very long time. She doubted that she’d ever come across someone else who was crafted as perfectly as he was. His body, his voice, his eyes, his whole damn face and especially those damn lips. She only hoped that his skills in bed matched his looks. 

“On your knees.” 

to be continued… 

[em1e]

ᶻz feat. draken + mikey + ran !!

tokyo revengers && haircare

☓ they let u touch their hair !! ran's is a lil suggestive :3

ᶻz・ken ryuguji ‘draken’

⠀ ⬤ and helping upkeep his dark dye job.

“your roots are coming in.” you hum out with a tap to his forehead. 

draken swats your hand away with a grimace, standing from his kneeling position in front of the bike he was fixing while wiping his hands on the rag he keeps in his belt loop, “yeah? ‘ve been meaning to get some dye.” 

you smile, “can i do it?” 

“you gotta dying degree?, his eyes narrow to slits, quick to ask. 

“cosmetology degree,” you correct, unwavering, “and how hard can it be? you seem to do just fine.” 

“i’ve been doing it for a couple years.” he rolls his eyes, “and it’s so dark, i dunno how good of a job you’ll do.” 

“tomato, tomato.” you wave off, “what brand do you get? i’ll stop by the store and grab a box before you’re home.”  

he doesn’t have it in him to argue - not when you’re giving him such a big grin and those puppy-dog eyes - he can’t say no. 

“revlon,” he relents, “but if you mess up you’re never doin’ it again.” 

“aye aye captain.” you giggle, standing on your toes to press a quick kiss to his lips before you’re practically skipping out of the garage.

when he comes back to your shared home, you’re sitting in the living room, a towel in the middle of the floor with one of the dining room chairs set in the center of it. he raises an eyebrow at it, and you hold up the box with a smile. 

“ready?”

draken changes from his work clothes while you mix the bowl of dye. he ends up sitting in the chair while you drape an old hand towel around his neck and press a kiss to his nose when you’re satisfied with the placement. 

“try not to get it in my scalp, yeah?” he grimaces at how dark the color is, suddenly very aware of each stroke you put onto his head despite you being mindful of each part you section off before moving to the next. it takes you maybe thirty minutes before you’re satisfied, making sure to use what dye remains to blend it in with the rest of his hair. you give another kiss to his forehead when you’re finished, and grimace when your nose presses into the still very wet dye. 

draken wipes away the little dot smeared on the tip of your nose with the corner of the hand towel, smiling at how you perk up at such a little interaction. 

“‘kay, it has to stay on for 25 minutes and then you can rinse it out.” 

“i know,” he laughs, “i do this like once a month.” 

you pinch his shoulder with a huff, “i was just reminding you.” 

draken stays in the chair as the 25 minutes pass, worried about dripping dye on your brand new carpet, and lets you help him wash it out when the time comes, leaning over the edge of the bathtub while you run water and shampoo and conditioner over his hair. 

you towel it try while he sits on the toilet, pressing a kiss to his forehead when you’re finished and smiling at how well of a job you’ve done. 

“none on your scalp.” you hum out, stepping back when he stands to look at himself in the mirror. you adore him like this, hair down and falling over his shoulders. he runs a hand through the still slightly damp hair, examining with the critique of a college professor.

then he gives you a toothy grin, brushing some fallen pieces out of his face, “you did good. might have to make this a habit.” 

ᶻz・manjiro sano ‘mikey’ 

⠀ ⬤ and letting you put his hair into different styles.

mikey was practically purring while you ran your fingers through his messy blond hair. 

the sensation of your fingertips against his scalp was magical, leaving him to bonelessly slumping against you while you part and section as you please, and despite you tapping his shoulder multiple times and mumble something about him needing to stay sitting up straight so you can properly fix his hair, he always ends up in the same position. 

it makes your job twenty times harder, tying up his pretty locks at an awkward angle and having to redo it multiple times when it’s uneven, and part of you suspects maybe he’s doing it on purpose - the need to have your fingers in his hair ever present with the sighs that fall from his lips. 

still, you do as well as you can, and press a soft kiss to the top of his head when you’re finished. 

he doesn’t have to look in the mirror to know you’ve done a good job. his body goes even limper to lean his full weight against you, sighing softly as you wrap your arms around his waist and hook your head over his shoulder. 

“how’s it look?” he asks more out of courtesy, since you did just spend the last twenty minutes doing whatever it is you’ve decided to do to his head. 

“cute.” you answer with a smile, “wanna see?” 

he hums, eyes closing when the warmth that radiates from you seeps into his back. he really doesn’t want to move.

and it’s as if you can see into the future - having already brought over a small hand mirror for him to look into when you grabbed the various hair ties and clips that are currently in his hair. you offer it to him gently, and he takes it with one eye open, head tilting as he takes in his new style. 

it is cute, he can admit. small colorful butterfly clips sat mixed into the usual half-up hairdo he normally wears. 

“you did good.” he turns his head slightly to give you a small peck on the cheek, smiling when he sees the blush that flares from the spot as if he’s burned you. 

“thanks.” your voice is quiet, but giddy. happy he’s happy. 

he sets the mirror face down onto his stomach, closing his eyes and letting himself relax in your embrace. some stray clips poke into the back of his head, but he can’t really find it in himself to care when the air around you brings such peace. 

he thinks he could stay like this forever, laying with whatever silly decorations in his hair if it means you’ll stay there, too. 

ᶻz・ran haitani

⠀ ⬤ and braiding his stupidly dyed hair.

“you are so annoying,” you groan out, undoing the entirety of the braid you’ve just done when ran turns his head to face you with a grin. 

“what?” he asks innocently, as if he hasn’t been the reason you’ve spent thirty minutes on his hair and still haven’t gotten a single braid finished. 

you replace the hair tie on your wrist, twisting him to face forward by his cheeks to restart, “we were supposed to leave twenty minutes ago. rindou is gonna kill me if we’re late to this stupid dinner.” 

his grin falters at the mention of his brother’s name, turning to face you fully despite your protests, “who cares ‘bout him. you ‘nd i can have plenty of fun without goin’ to that dinner with him.”

the look you set him with would send any normal person running, but ran haitani has seen it all. death doesn’t scare him as much as it probably should, and neither does the way your eyes are scanning over his face. 

“it’s his birthday.” you settle for instead, forcing him to turn back around so you can start over with a frustrated sigh. 

“he ‘nd i already celebrated.” he says dismissively, turning back around despite you clicking your tongue and dropping your hands into your lap with another sigh. 

your aggravation is palpable, clear with the crease in your brows, “ran, i’m serious. i still need to get dressed and the reservation is five minutes from now and the place is almost fifteen if we speed-” 

he shuts you up with a kiss, pulling you towards him with a desperation that has your eyes fluttering closed and returning it as if it’s something as natural as breathing. your hands come up to tangle in his hair, fingertips meeting the hair tie still separating the half of it from the rest, and you pull. far harder than necessary, and it has him pulling away from you with a groan. 

it’s enough to tug the hair tie out completely, and you’re satisfied with the way his mixed colors fall over his shoulders and frame his face. 

the grin he gives you is sharp, all teeth and teasing, and your eyebrows raise with a pointed finger, “no ran. you are going to this dinner with your hair down and i am going to get dressed.” you slide out from behind him as quickly as your body will allow, already in the process of stripping off your shirt to put on the clothes you’ve set out previously. 

“c’mon babe, we’re already gonna be late.” his arms wrap around your bare torso, teeth pressing into your shoulder from how hard he’s grinning, “what’s a few extra minutes? s’not like he’ll be alone, izana ‘nd the others’ll be there to keep him company.” 

“ran.” your voice is warning, but you’re letting him pull you towards the bed and your resolve falters with each second he’s holding you. you are already late anyways. what’s twenty more minutes?

[strwbabydoll]

Hey! 17 & 28 if possible please!!! x

Valentine’s Gifts and Surprises

hii here you go ! <3

talk to me • masterlist • request a valentine's prompt

- - - -

17- roses

28 - ribbons

- - - - 

Y/N’s never been on the giving side of all of Valentine's activities. She’s always been the one receiving the flowers, chocolates and cards from her past lovers. But this year, she wants to do something different, step outside of her comfort zones and do something nice. She stares at the variety of flowers lining the shelves and walls of the flower shop she stands in. They’ve never discussed their favorite flowers and how they want to celebrate Valentine’s, it’s not that they don’t want to celebrate it, it’s just not that big of a deal for the two of them. 

But she wants to do something for Harry, to try to show just how much she appreciates him. So here she is, standing in the flower shop trying to figure out which flower to get him. Her eyes scan over the walls until she comes across a beautiful bouquet of red and blue tulips and immediately she knows that these are the perfect ones for him. She doesn’t want to be basic and give him roses, although she did think about it simply because she knows he’ll be over the moon anyway. She quickly walks over to where they’re sitting and grabs them and not long after she’s heading to the checkout section and buying them. Y/N smiles as she thanks the lady and walks out. The flowers were the last thing she needed to complete his gift. 

She didn’t want to go all out for him, she knows he’s not that kind of person. He wants something intimate whenever it’s a holiday or something for the two of them. She had intended on spending the day at home, to share their love and just be with each other. He’s never been one to indulge in all of the big public displays of affection, he prefers moments to be shared privately. So she knew he’d prefer to keep their love just between them, no cameras or loud noises, crowded spaces and no awkwardness. 

She drives to their shared apartment and sits in the parking lot, sending a quick text message to let him know that she’s home and not to come outside so she can put his present together (she left his present part out but she’s almost positive that he knows what she’s been out doing.) Almost immediately she gets a text back with a thumbs up and him saying he’s glad she’s made it home safe and that he can’t wait to see her. She smiles to herself before she begins to assemble it. She places the medium sized wooden basket on her lap and sets the small red shaved pieces inside of them of the basket and begins to set his gifts inside.She sets the folded sweatshirt that has a picture of them together on the front in first, then she sets the heart shaped box of chocolates in, then a couple bottles of his favorite drink and then sprinkles some other snacks in as well. After all that is set, she puts a couple face masks in and the valentine’s card she’s written for him. 

She admires it for a couple of minutes before she sends him another text saying she’s coming in, she grabs the basket and gets out of the car; she makes sure to close and lock the doors before she begins to make her way to their apartment. She quickly unlocks the door and she immediately gasps at what she sees. There’s rose petals scattered all over the floor and ribbons in her favorite colors tied around their smaller chairs and hanging from the ceiling. There’s soft jazz coming from the speaker in the living room and candles lit everywhere. The whole scenery is directly from her pinterest board, something she wouldn’t tell Harry about because she knew he’d try his best on recreating it and she just wants him to do whatever he wants.

She can’t help but to smile lovingly at the effort he’s put into this. She makes her way inside and follows the trail of rose petal leaves on the floor, leading her into their bedroom. The door is opened and allows her to see the inside, more rose petals leading up to the bed and stops in the shape of a big  heart and Harry stands beside it. He’s holding a bouquet of roses, all of them in different colors, with several pink ribbons wrapped around them and a bright smile on his face. He’s dressed handsomely, a white button down shirt with the first three buttons undone to showcase a bit of his chest and his swallow tattoos, a pair of black pants and his hair beautifully styled. 

“Hi, my love.” He says and she smiles at him, soft and lovingly. 

“Hi, baby. What’s all this?” She asks and he shrugs. 

“It’s Valentine’s. Did you think I wouldn’t do anything for my girl?” He says as he walks over to her. She can’t help the heat that runs to her cheeks as she watches him. He softly takes the basket from her hands and kisses her forehead softly. 

“What’s this?” He asks and she smiles shyly. 

“Your valentine’s day gift.” She says and he shakes his head as he continues to smile brightly.

“Thank you, baby, but you didn’t have to. I appreciate you thinking of me, but you will always be my present for every holiday. You’re all I need.”

[vixstarria]

Kinktober Day 21 - Free Use

For every day of the month of October I will be posting a little snippet following prompts listed in this post. Most of these will not be full fics, but rather short snippets, set-ups, and, in a few cases, copied bits and pieces of fics I have already published. But, if there is a lot of interest and feedback on any of the snippets, they might just evolve into full fics, so keep that in mind.

Disclaimer / TW: Sex club shenanigans. And yes, yes, I know I'm late... It did take me a full 3 weeks to fall behind, at least.

The masquerade masks were, of course, completely inadequate for concealing anyone’s identity. However, they served a different purpose: acknowledging mask-clad acquaintances as such within the mansion, as well as mentioning their presence at the party outside the manor grounds was an unthinkable taboo, and would result in the irrevocable banishment of the offender and their immediate connections. Attendance at the events was a great privilege, one not to be squandered.

Astarion and Asmodea had been invited to the soiree by the owner of the establishment herself. They were encouraged to peruse and, if they so wished, partake, though the actual purpose of their visit was business, not pleasure: they were exploring the possibility of forging business ties between their cabaret theatre and the Scarlet Veil.

“Why this is even more strange than being on the paying end of a brothel,” Astarion murmured to Asmodea upon their emerging from the cloakroom.

"Are you sure you want to be here?" she frowned. "I'm happy to deal with the owner myself."

He waved a hand dismissively before responding.

“I will only ask two things of you: make no assumptions, and ask no questions you do not want to know the answers to.” Not waiting for her to respond, and likewise not giving her a chance to voice any more concerns, he sauntered towards a nearby room, sectioned off by a velvet drape.

"The Burrow," he read a plaque at the entrance. "Hmm, let me guess..."

Asmodea had no choice but to follow him as he disappeared behind the curtain.

Her eyes widened as she was immediately greeted by the sight of a splayed pair of legs protruding from a nearby wall at about hip height. The ankles were in restraints, bound to the wall. The rest of the body disappeared behind a window cut-out, concealed by strip curtains. The figure, or at least the visible part of it, wore absolutely nothing but a pair of torn silk stockings.

"...Ah," Asmodea blinked. "Gloryholes. ...Of a kind."

There was an entire row of these holes further along the wall, she now realised, most of them occupied by grunting, thrusting masked men, their trousers gathered unceremoniously at their ankles.

"Harengon holes, they're called," Astarion corrected. "Because harengons-"

"...live in burrows and fuck like rabbits, yes, I've gathered."

Despite herself, she glanced up at Astarion, and, perhaps reading the unasked question in her eyes, he elaborated further.

"If the manor events are run the way I think they are, the participants here are all thrill-seeking guests, not paid staff. Concealed attendants should be keeping an eye on things on both sides, in case anyone doesn't know how to behave."

They passed further along the wall, observing the activities around them. A halfling, scorning a nearby stepladder which must have been provided for those of their stature, simply stood with their face buried between the disembodied legs. A chorus of muffled moans and howls sounded from somewhere beyond the wall.

The scene appeared increasingly more comical the longer Asmodea observed it, and she bit her lip to hold back a titter.

"Shall we move on before we're kicked out..?" Astarion asked, seeing her reaction. "I don't believe this is intended as a comedy show."

They continued on to the next room.

My Kinktober masterlist and prompts post

[heybrine]

Jessie Livin' Pack - Part I

Hiii everyone! This is my first ever CC Pack that I made myself from zero, and I hope you enjoy it! ❤️

So this is the first part of this pack, which focuses on the living room. This set is the base of the living room and has everything you need, from sofa to fireplace with 22 items.

In a few weeks I'll be finishing the Part II of this pack focused in clutter/decor items.

Items include:

Sectional Sofa (all pieces)

Sectional Lounge Chair

3 Curtains for All Wall Height (Left, Right and Middle)

Curtain Rod (from EA)

Round Coffee Table (normal and smaller size)

Console Table

Circular End Table

Round Ottoman

Stucco Fireplace

Stucco Wall with baseboard

2 Bookshelves (Left and Right)

Ceiling Light

Early Access Now Available On Patreon

Public Release: 13th February 2023

[psycheetamore]

Preparing for a Giedi Prime Party - Kinktober

Nr 1 / 3 of my little contribution to @lady-phasma's guidance for Kinktober/Fangtober for day 3 (ejaculation)

Tags: MDNI, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen Is His Own Warning, explicit smut, Feyd-Rautha is phyiscially imposing, teasing, vaginal everything (f in v, t in v, p in v), oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, power dynamics, domination (m), implied non-consensual drug use, dubious consent, spoilers, and of course: ejaculation - the author regrets nothing

Summary: Feyd-Rautha has been enraptured by the fearless Fremen leader (f) while fighting on Arrakis. After she decided not to kill him, he has managed to capture her as he decided to make her his. After some initial struggles on both sides (as he understands she will never truly become his if he forces her), she is starting to be more comfortable in his presence, and is rising in Giedi Prime ranks. He is set on unlocking parts of her she did not know existed, and showing her everything (... this is as suggestive as you can interpret it - see the tags) his planet has to offer. This section shows part of their journey (again: meant in the most suggestive way possible - tags).

Word count: 2.1k

Based on chapter 17 of Choosing to Follow Destiny, Pre-Party Excitement:

After she came back from yet another day studying, she found a gift in her chambers: a beautifully crafted box, covered with dark leather, holding a pair of well-balanced daggers. Brown handles with beige veins to her surprise, almost as if he knew.

They fit her hands perfectly. It contained a handwritten note: “Dearest, I promised to have you experience all that Giedi Prime has to offer. Tonight, you are invited to attend a small get-together as my esteemed guest. You will receive appropriate attire. Please ensure you take this gift wherever you go, as I trust you will keep yourself well. FR”

After she read the note, trolleys were brought in by her servant girls bringing the attire mentioned.

One of her servants explained that the small get-together referred to, was actually an annual fête organised by the na-Baron. With only in-crowd present, invites were heavily coveted and a token of benevolence from leadership bestowed upon one. As dictated by Harkonnen culture, also this fête would erupt into pandemonium, a drug laced orgy that claimed lives every year. The girls have not witnessed it before, and spoke based on gossip only. It was stressed that receiving an invite, and especially as the guest of the na-Baron himself, was a special honour. This was the one party to attend, organised by the Harkonnen playboy himself.

She considered that this was perhaps one of the parties mentioned during a seemingly boring meeting she was dragged into.

The other servant offered her a piece of candy, explaining it was tradition to eat this before attending the event. With thoughts of caution, she ate it.

[…]

The attire consisted of a black overlay skirt to be hanged on her hips, a white see through wrapped blouse consisting of two parts starting from her neck and to be wrapped over her breasts, leaving her mid-rift exposed, an a-symmetrical harness to hold her new daggers to her sides, a fire red silk cape that touched the ground, closed black heels with straps to cover the calve, a broad black leather choker with a metal ring at the front, two wrist and two ankle bands identical to the choker, an eye covering mask made of black feathers and black lace underwear. Not the typical outfit she was used to, and she could only imagine what he was planning.

The girls started working on her hair. The typical low braid was removed. Her flowy black hair was put in a tight high bun and braided.

While she started to remove her clothes to settle in this new outfit, Feyd-Rautha entered the room. He was already dressed in his outfit for the night.

He wore clothing made of a thin, flowy and black fabric, covering his entire body. A wide shirt that was tucked into high wasted trousers, that seemed to be tied together by a broad belt of the same material also holding his ceremonial daggers. The broadness of his shoulders and the narrowness of his waist were accentuated. Through the tailoring of the shirt, that was tied together with hidden buttons, it gave the impression that he was even broader than he was. The neck being covered with the fabric tightly tied, nearly up to where the head started. The legs of the pants were wide, while consisting of overlaying parts - they could be mistaken for a skirt. His pants were tucked into black boots. A cape was attached to his shoulders, laced with red fabric on the inside to complement her cape.

After she had taken this sight in, she taunted: “the girls you allocated to me can help me get dressed”, knowing that Feyd-Rautha came in to either witness or participate, and would not remove himself from her room anytime soon.

He smirked and set himself on her couch, making himself comfortable. He raised his finger in the slightest way and pointed to the doors. Within seconds they were gone. “I don't see them here, pet. And someone needs to help you” he said with an intense voice.

She thought he probably expected her to refuse his offer, or try get him out of the room. She wouldn't be giving him that pleasure. As sense of playfulness took hold of her.

She walked over to him, sat on the couch next to him, held her arms up high and said with a high-pitched voice, pouting lips and doe eyes: “please be so kind to remove my breast band, lord Harkonnen. I cannot do this without help.” Although it took him off-guard, he obliged to the mocking request with a muted moan he couldn't prevent from escaping, placing his hands on her hips and gliding them along her flanks to the height of the band. He moved his hands to her back, smelling her scent, pushing his fingers under the band and having them flow over her skin to her breasts. While cupping her breasts, he released his thumbs from under the band and shifted it over her head while having his mouth helping her nipples acclimatise to the newer colder surroundings. His hands slid the band over her arms, holding them straight up while his mouth travelled to her neck.

With her band removed, and noticing how he indulged her in her mocking play, she stood up to stand between his legs, turned around and asked with the same voice and eyes, while looking over her shoulder: “oh, lord Harkonnen, I need your help again. Can you please help me take off my panties? I can’t do this by myself”, while having difficulty in containing her laughter. Despite the wideness of his clothing, his bulge couldn't be hidden anymore. “Woman, you will be my death” he responded with a deep sound, as he grabbed her hips, pushed her to step forwards, fell on his knees and tore this last piece of wardrobe covering her modesty down as far as possible using his teeth. He pushed her to lean over the nearby cabinet, spread her legs as far as possible considering the still present undergarment, and started tasting the source of sweetness to which he had found himself addicted.

This wasn’t entirely how she thought this would have played out, but it was pleasing all the same. Soon, tasting became slurping, as her body decided to prepare her for what it desired to come. She pushed herself towards him as far as her balance allowed her, removing one leg from her underwear to give him better access. The positioning on the cabinet and his support of her legs allowed her to indulge fully. His long tongue entering her repeatedly caused a new sensation, bringing her to newfound heights.

He couldn’t just have his mouth experience the pleasures presented to him. He stood up behind her, while pressing on the small of her back to keep her bend over. Before he could enter, something broader was required. As he uncovered himself, he pushed his fingers in her. As his longing needed to come to an end, it did not take long before she was taking three of his digits. He removed them a few times, to moisture himself. There was only so much this man could watch passively. Once he felt that she was ready to receive him, he removed his wet fingers and pushed himself in her cautiously, noticing she went to stand on her tiptoes to welcome him.

He heard her gasp. They always do. Even if prepared, even if they have encountered him more than once, no-one ever got fully adapted to take the volume of his presence from the very first entry. While her gasp was replaced with moans, and she became more accommodating to him, he started to thrust into her, holding her hips to exert more force in the process.

Considering this must be a dream again, as this was completely out of character for her, she decided to see how it would play out if she would vocalise her inner thoughts: “lord Harkonnen, you are peerless. My god” while throwing her arm back, and driving her nails in in whatever pale flesh she could grab.

“Don’t refer to me as lord while I fuck you. Use my name. You know better” he said punishing, pushing her legs further apart and pushing his fingers deeper into her flesh.

“Whatever pleases you, lord Harkonnen” she responded playfully, as if she was drunk. He responded less playfully, pulling her deeper onto him and grabbing her throat with one hand: “I don’t like to repeat myself, pet” he growled near her ear. She was contemplating yet another sassy response, but his continuous thrusts prevented her from responding in any other way than moaning in his ear. She wanted to have her upper body fall on the commode, but could not as he continued to hold her. In that position she could not do anything else than come again, completely under his spell.

After he felt that she had road out that wave, he removed himself, turned her around and picked her up to put her on the cabinet. As she sat before him with her legs wide open, placing a finger in her mouth and covering herself with her other hand – more to recover than anything else, he tried prying his trousers off. “Don’t do that. Don’t block my view darling” he growled, as he wouldn’t have this appetising sight be taken from him.

But she did not listen. His clothing wasn’t coming off quick enough and he needed to enforce his ignored instruction. No other options was left than to use his hand to push hers away and allow his fingers to explore the environment that had grown even moister since they deserted this dessert. With his other hand he continued to struggle until his pants lay on his feet.

Entering her again, he needily moaned: “you feel so good, your pussy fits so well over my cock, it longs to hold me” as he let one of his hands wander over the sight in front of him of him entering her, thrusting in her, burying himself in her. Seeing himself claiming her, a deadly woman, reduced to a girl, his girl. Feeling himself while his fingers touched where their bodies merged, it was breath-taking. Feeling her quiver around him and pulled apart repeatedly at his touch, it was intoxicating. He knew how to render her helpless, the power he had over her was addictive. He grabbed one of her hands and had her experience the this feeling he knew was new to her. He slid in and out of her with very low speed so she could observe how he was making her his, one push at the time. She spread her legs wider to welcome him deeper, in anticipation if what was to come. Her hair getting undone, breathing rapid and narrow as he felt by touching her chest, there was no need for her to repeat that message. He felt she was ready to die for yet another time.

She opened her eyes and looked at him. His face spoke volumes of the emotions running through him. His jaws clenching together. Eyes rapidly searching. Greed, possession, aggressiveness. His body spoke of passion, a distorted form of gentleness and consideration. Seeing him labouring hard above her, autonomously within his own world, sweat forming on his pale bold body, his blue yet dark eyes, his composure, his clothed physic that exemplified a perfect as a triangle a male torso could achieve to be. His knowledge of the ways of the female body. He was trained in everything. He was allowing her to get to learn her body in ways she never expected were possible. “Fucking hell... Feyd-R...” as her head crashed to back to take in another wave.

He decided this was an excellent moment to join her in her high, to reward her for doing, or at least trying to do, what he had demanded from her. He spilled himself deep in her during his last and deepest push.

+++

After a long moment to recollect themselves, Feyd-Rautha removed himself from her. She wanted to stand up, but he prevented her. While walking away to collect her clothes, he informed her: “I truly came here to help you dress, despite your distractions.” While she was still sitting on the low cupboard, he fitted her new panties designated for the party. Only after these were in place, he helped her back on her feet again and kissed her earlobe: “I want you to smell me the entire night. I want you to feel me the entire night, think about me. I want to smell myself the entire night. That I claimed you, you delicious creature.”

She knew that this was how he showed his affection, in his very own peculiar way.

[cloudyeventss]

141 x female assistant Part 3

Y/n POV

Laswell is helping me settle into the unit. She said the team was in the middle of training so I'll get the chance to meet them later. I don't have much just some clothes and books I brought with me. This place somewhat resembles a dormitory. At least what I'd think one would look like. I had my own apartment in college so i have been lucky to never have to have a roommate. As soon as I walk in I see the common area it's nothing much just a flat screen maybe 55in and a grey sectional couch. There's a coffee table in the center that has seen better days. Connected to the living area is a small kitchen. Kate shows me to my room down the hall. I walk inside setting my bags on the twin size bed .There's a dresser across from it and a bedside table. I sigh with relief when I notice the private bathroom attached to my room. " the boys should be done within the next hour. I'll give you some time to settle in before we go meet them" turning back to face Kate. " thank you, Laswell". She gives me a soft smile and closes the door behind her.

.....

I spent the next hour putting my things away and getting dressed. I decided on a short sleeve black shirt with black pants paired with a white belt and white kitten heels. I kept my makeup light today only applying some blush and mascara. I'm already starting to jitter, my nerves are trying to get the best of me, but I'm determined to make this job work.

.....

                        Ghost's POV

"Ghost, ghost are ye listenin"

I ignore johnny, I'm already pissed. We've just finished running drills with the recruits, when Price called everyone into his office. He hasn't told us why we're here yet and I'm starting to get restless. I lean forward in my chair resting my elbows on my thighs when a soft knock comes grabbing our attention. Johnny and Gaz's conversation falls short when Laswell and someone else walks in . My back immediately straightens turning my spine to steel. My eyes meeting the woman standing behind Laswell. Her hair is tied back in a bun with two pieces framing her face. She's fidgeting with her hands looking down, clearly nervous. It's cute really such a pretty bird. I smile underneath my balaclava. She's going to be trouble. 

   Laswell greets the team " Boys, this is Ms. (Y/L/N), she'll be working closely with the team. Call on her for any work needs. Her office will be just down the hall"

  Captain reaches to shake her hand 

"Pleasure to 'ave you Ms.(Y/L/N)"

      The little thing brushes down her pants, wiping her palms before grabbing Caps hand. " please call me y/n" . Prices hand practically engulfs her smaller one. Soap jumped from his seat to introduce himself next. The bloke is acting like a puppy who finally found a friend. Grinning ear to ear, no doubt waiting to make a cheeky comment about how great her ass looks. The man couldn't stop staring at it while she was speaking with Price. Gaz saves her from Johnny's ramblings, telling her he would be happy to show her around. Then all eyes turn towards me waiting for me to say something, some formal introduction.. she's not going to get that from me. Not today.. I stand up and walk out, I need to clear my head.

[t34-mt]

maanul colony, a rough idea of how the build against the cliff parts looks like, the rest of the village is on top of the cliff. These are flexible plant fiber that creates platforms/structures, and there are also tunnel systems. also, black sand! More text and information under ->

this is a western colony (maak'thao), other colonies have that same similar structure but have regional differences in architecture/ the way of making certain things. This is just one side, id imagines it expanding widely on the side cliffs. Maybe kilometers long for the largest colony of each wind? (west, north, south, and East all have a "main colony" which is just the biggest of the region. Cardinal directions are called "the 4 winds" for maanuls.)

while a portion is on the side of the cliff, build against roots or just on the top of the cliffs as regular houses, a part of the structures is hidden. And is directly carved into the rock, as tunnel systems to access some specific parts easier. Carved storage rooms, small gathering places, rooms for religious practices like wall painting, and so on. this is roughly how the tunnel stuff would look like ->

id also imagine some tunnels being decorated with shells, sadly the examples I found are not the exact color I imagined because i think they would pick stupidly colorful ones since they are very fond of shiny things with color(like a magpie!). And once they start losing their color for x reason they would repaint the shells. A main tunnel leading to an important place would be highly decorated, while smaller narrow tunnels would have just a little bit of shells on the sides if none.

now with specific details id like to point out from the bottom part!

First, the statues (in yellow). The statues are placed all around in front of the habitations, they are deeply set in-ground and are lightly carved in, enough to tell a specific shape but still retain a square figure. here's a closer look at them, with additional text!

Now onto the roots (red) and the bottom platforms (white), these root-like structures are actually a sort of tree that grows down to the cliffs, not every colony has that these are mostly found in west and south. Colonies that don't have these growing around will have bottom platforms made out of wood and will be raised up from the sand floor.

The bottom platforms here are also made out of somewhat flexible but strong plant fiber. These large platforms are not made to live but more for some community gatherings. like for example teaching young ones about sea navigation! Down there is used to store some fishing equipment and boats. And when I say boats you should think of canoe-like ones, used for fishing.

And last is that large fish-net decoration in blue, that thing is used to attach many things, like sand down glass pieces that with the light give a fun colorful reflection effect around. But that fishnet thing can also be used to mourn. By that, I mean in the West if they lost a loved one to the ocean they can take a personal shiny belonging and attach it there. So they will always be remembered by everyone even if they didn't have a body and couldn't do the usual way of mourning.

now for the middle section, starting with these "flags"

the enormous "flag", takes decades to make and are a thing you find in each "main colony" of the 4 winds, the immense rope will harbor at least 3 of those and the things represented in it can sometimes be related to a local folkloric tale, symbolic drawings that each bring a good thing to the colony. Like for example one drawing of fish and waves to bring good luck to fishermen! these are much more like tapestries than flags.

extra images about the nest-like structures, id think of them being made out of leather, various plant fiber, and a bit of wood for support.

and a bit about the top layer, which extends much more but on this drawing you only see the beginning of it.

now with the high tide, there it does not get high enough to swim but still enough to take off to the sea with a canoe, id say it arrives at waist level for an adult maanul. Not every village/large colony have the tide flooding around like this, sometimes it might stops where the statues are placed. since altuyur has 2 moons (maanuls and kyhuines say 3 moons but in really the third, or also called "the infant" is an asteroid caught in the first moon, also called "night mother") i was thinking it would affect the tide cycle tho im not sure yet how it does that since im not that good at astrology.

thank you for reading!

[homestuckreplay]

kill them with bladekindness

(page 575-586)

9/3/2009 Wheel Spin: Parent Bad :( Verdict: It’s The Background Texture

9/4/2009 Wheel Spin: Long Pesterlog Verdict: Dave Should Pester John About This

Not much actually happens in these pages, just picking things up and putting them down, so I re-read all Dave’s POV sections so far to experience his uninterrupted slow descent into puppet madness. And it was actually very enlightening and is probably a good way of re-reading for character development/analysis now that character switches are happening so regularly.

But today I was just trying to figure out how the fuck hash map works.

Dave brags to John a couple times about being a super hardcore genius sylladex user, and he’s exaggerating, but not totally lying. As well as already having his strife specibus allocated, on p.576 he does a smooth box catch after seeing the fireworks ejected out the corner of his eye, and on p.579 he shows off by intentionally ejecting and then dodging about ten shurikens. Even though there’s way easier ways he could have accomplished that – such as GENTLY GATHERING (5) the shurikens to free up card 5, then taking the box.

Except, it makes sense if we assume Dave is practicing. In the past we’ve seen Dave mess with his sylladex in his room and in the bathroom, but this is the first time he’s used it in the public areas of the house – and with the Dude Dodge and demonstrations of using different words for the same item and dealing with collisions, it’s almost like he’s putting on a performance. On p.386, he tells John: ‘you should look into weaponizing your sylladex. my bro is always getting on my case about it but man its not as easy as it sounds.’

We’ve now learned that Dave’s bro stocks the kitchen with weapons, which could be there specifically for sylladex practice. Dave’s bro, who it’s been implied also uses hash map, could have been practicing the shuriken-dodge maneuver for years, to use if he ever gets into a real fight. (Or is there a league? Is sylladex usage a sport and Dave’s bro is like a former high school football player who’s trying to train up a younger family member to relive their glory days)?

These kitchen violence pages pair well with Dave reading the Midnight Crew on p.329-331. ‘A familiar feeling stirs. That feeling is overwhelming, soul-blackening rage. It's the sort of rage that'll make a man feel totally justified in sporting an unnecessarily elaborate assortment of fancy blades’ is a line referring to Spades Slick, but Dave lives with a man who sports an unnecessarily elaborate assortment of fancy blades, so I wonder what soul-blackening rage Bro is feeling and why. It makes me think about how a hyperviolent character in a piece of media can be very fun and likeable, but that same trait in a real person, especially one you live with, is terrifying, and certainly gets different reactions from Dave.

Page 585 shows some different options for hash map point scoring, and I wonder which is most user friendly. Scrabble points is fun, but only helpful if you’ve memorized the Scrabble score system. 2-point consonants and 1-point vowels, which Dave has been using, is pretty easy to calculate numbers for, but certain cards seem like they come up a lot more than others. A short, 3-5 letter word will probably occupy cards 5 through 9, and it gets harder to fill up those low numbered cards when calculating in a hurry. The system where A=1, B=2, C=3, etc, probably solves that issue, but involves working with much bigger numbers, which (if playing TTRPGs has taught me anything) lots of people struggle with. A good hash map needs to be easy to calculate and leave items naturally well distributed among cards.

The most effective hash map, I think, wouldn't depend on function but would have a standard set of 20-30 items that you regularly captchalogue and know the values for, along with ways of retrieving them. So when leaving the house, I could have my KEYS in card 6 and use them to OPEN the front door, plus my WALLET in card 0 to EXCHANGE MONEY for goods and services, but when I go home I can switch them out for a BAKING TRAY (6) that I could use to COOK dinner, and a LAPTOP (0) to easily BROWSE the internet. (If I wanted to leave the house with my laptop, I could captchalogue it as a PORTABLE DEVICE (2) for SURFING THE WEB). Getting to know these items really well, and the ways they might be used as weapons, would probably be way easier than just figuring it out as you go.

Of course, when losing a sylladex battle, you can just hit that eject button for a near guaranteed win. It’s possible this counts as a forfeit or is just bad conduct, but with a sylladex full of shurikens it might just be worth it. ‘detect collisions,’ in this context, feels like using training wheels on a bike or those railings over the bowling lane gutters. You should do it to learn, but some assholes will look down on it, and it’s totally not allowed in competitions.

I also noted on this reread how it’s very common for Dave to have the tiny flashing exclamation point above his head when he gets a sudden shock. This might have happened once or twice with John or Rose, I’d need to reread more to check, but it’s definitely a lot more common with Dave. He could be easily startled, it could be an artistic way of showing his emotion when he wouldn’t show it on his face like other characters do, or this could be where Dave stores his unused exclamation points that he’s too cool to put in chat messages.

Finally. I love the bit on p.581 when the picture of Sweet Bro or Hella Jeff gets knocked off the fridge and slowly floats to the floor.

[bluepotion85]

The Golden Ratio - Chapter 3

(The following story contains male weight gain, food play, BDSM, kidnap, encouragement, and feeder/feedee scenarios. If that's not for you, then go to church or something vanilla dude.

This takes place during and after the events of the One-Piece film GOLD. For a better experience see the film on your local streaming service.

This story is written in collaboration with @bee-wg )

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

Tesoro

We see ourselves as special, separated from the world we live in. When the pirates burn a neighboring island, we don't think of it as our problem, not until they come and burn everything here as well. Then we know the truth, we can all experience despair, slavery, or death. 

I have rid myself of the shackles of the world with the one true power, money. Those too weak to change their realities or too stupid to realize these are the rules of the world; are destined to be used by the powerful. 

And the man dangling from my wall right now is no different. While Roronoa, Zoro tries to keep a strong front, he is getting micro-dose with particles of gold that enter his body with every meal. With every day that he stays here, the pirate hunter and swordsman of the straw hats becomes more of my personal plaything. I’ll transform him in every way so everyone can see that he is nothing but mine.

My pheromone fumes in the room are already firing his head, keeping him aroused at every waking moment. Not to mention the golden rod deep within him, it will edge him until his brain is scrambled with the need for release. While they do their job, I’ll get to destroy the body he so tirelessly worked.

“How is my wall trophy doing? Enjoying your alone time?” I said.

“I’ll get that shit-eating grin off your face when I get down off this wall,”

“It's hard to take that threat seriously when you are about to bust a nut,”

He struggles against his restraints, yelling at me for a “proper fight.”

“There have already been enough fights. You haven't gotten any closer to defeating me, pirate hunter. Admit that you can't win against me,”

“I'm the man who will cut through everything, even you,”

“Mmm, maybe your brain is not getting enough food to see the truth. Let's have breakfast then,”

“I’m not hungry,” he replied.

“I wanted to take you out to a popular restaurant, but if you would rather stay in the wall, suits you right,” 

I wave my hand at him, making the golden rod speed up. The vibrations shook him to his core, he then looked at me for a second before answering “Fine, just get this thing off me,”

It was a bit unexpected to see him accept so easily, in any case, he was following the plan.

“Of course,”

I got him off the wall and gave him a set of clean clothes. Once he changed, we went to the garage, where our ride awaited. 

“Why does anyone need so many cars?” he said.

My garage is filled with multiple models of turtle cars.

“It's about the kachow!”

“What?”

I didn't bother explaining my superior taste in cars to him. My limo arrived anyway. We got in and drove through the city.

“And why so many cars if you make someone else drive for you? It's a waste.” he said, pointing at the driver.

Ugh, peasant.

We arrive at The Gold Pearl. The structure is a massive sphere built into the ship. The center of the sphere has a stage where live performers entertain the customers, with tables taking the sides of the structure. The roof is a rendition of Skypiea from the most renowned artist in the new world.

That's only the general admission section of the restaurant, which takes up to two-thirds of the space, leaving the upper third to the VIP section. Inside it, a group of golden droplets hang from the ceiling moving slowly, giving the illusion of waves in the sea. The sides of the sphere in the VIP section are see-through. Add to that the slowly rotating floors, and you have a great panoramic view of the city. Of course, the ungrateful ass didn’t spare a glance.

The waiting time for a table in the VIP area is over a year, or that's the case for everyone else. I made a call and reserved the whole section. Nobody was allowed to interact with Roronoa but me.                                 

“Get seated pirate hunter. The meal is about to begin,” I added.

He reluctantly sat at a table meters away from me. 

“What the matter, afraid I will bite?”

He looked at me with the utmost rage and resentment before standing up, walking to my table, and sitting across from me.

“Hahaha! You are learning after all!”

The waiter arrived handing me the menu. After inspecting it, I say, “Give me the steak with porcini butter and charred onion, and for him, the Sea King treat, white wine as for the two of us.”

“Of course,” said the waitress before leaving.

“What's the Sea King treat?”

“Since we encounter so many Sea Kings through our voyage, we have lots of their meat. It gets distributed across the restaurants at the Gran Tesoro. With each restaurant offering a full run of their best dishes with that meat, they all name it the Sea King treat,”

“I’m not that hungry. It’s too much for me even if I was,”

“There is no such thing as too much here,”

“I won't eat that much,”

“Once you try it, you will see it differently, one taste and you won't be able to put your fork down,”

“If it's like the rest of the food here, I doubt that,”

We wait for a while and the waiiter came with our drinks. She set both glasses on the table and before she could pour the drinks, Roronoa snap the bottle of wine off her hands. 

With his teeth he remove the cork from the bottle and took big gulps of the wine. The waiter looked with wide eyes as he downed the bottle in front of her. I laughed and asked her to bring more alcohol for the both of us. At least now I know of something he is weak to.

Our food arrived after the third bottle of wine went down Roronoa’s throat. The waiter placed plate after plate of meat at our table.

Roronoa looked puzzled at me before he asked, “You can't possibly expect me to eat all this?!” 

“Bon appetit,” I said.

We started to eat and by the end of his first plate, he looked ready to finish. So I moved my hands and manipulated the gold inside him to my will. Expanding the walls in his stomach, his expression changed as he felt the sudden void inside of him.

“Still hungry? Why not take another cut of meat, there is plenty,”

Before he could reply his stomach rumbled loudly. He evaded my eyes as he took another plate of food. He ate it faster than the last one, and again before he was finished I expanded his stomach capacity. He holds his stomach with a tormented look before taking another plate. Yes, pirate hunter, enjoy the meat, fill your guts to your heart's content, because I will make sure you only leave this place stuffed to the brim!

Zoro

What's going on with this food?

It's been an hour since we got here and no matter how many plates of food I eat, I don't seem to feel satisfied. 

The cuts of meat are savory, rich with grease, and saturated with sauce. They are so tender they melt in my mouth like cotton candy. Maybe that's why they don't fill me. They're all taste and have no substance. 

I finished my third plate with a burp, looking at Tesoro who finished his food. He looks pleased from his meal but that miserable grin of his gave me the creeps.

“Why don't you try the duck a l'orange, It's one of my favorites,” he said, extending me the plate.

I'm about to reject it when my insides churn, a belch comes up from deep within me and my stomach rumbles all over again. The smell of the duck mixed with my appetite makes me swallow my pride. I take the dish and get to work on ripping pieces of flesh and bringing them to my mouth. 

Not a day ago I was making an effort not to eat from this psycho, but my stomach roared like a wild tiger for sustenance. Also, if they wanted to poison me with something the damage is done. 

I pick the bottle of wine and down it in a few gulps, at least this is good. Some good booze is just what I needed to withstand this mess. Once the bottle is empty I ask the waiiter for more and I bring close a plate with sea king brochettes.

My attention is drawn in double-fist them, only stopping to breathe. All concerns besides filling my stomach are now out the window. Sushi, salad, meat, everything passes through my lips with a storm of grunts and burps filling the silence of the room. 

I took one last bite of churrasco when I felt the wave of fullness hit me. As if my brain suddenly realized I was stuffed beyond belief. I lowered my eyes and found my stomach tight and distended, strained against my clothes.

“What the-?”

“See, once you have one bite, you can't have enough of them,” he said. 

He stood from his seat and started to walk towards the exit.

“Come on, we wasted enough time here,”

“Give me a minute. I can barely breathe.”

“It's not my fault you made a pig of yourself. Unless you want someone else catching you like this, I suggest you get going,” he replied beside my ear.

Selfish prick, he is the one that orders enough food to feed an army. It's not my fault they were so light, except for that last dish. Trying to stand up I managed to see the rest of my body with more attention, grease, sauce, and pieces of food were scattered over my clothes. Fuck- I did let myself go. At least whatever got into me here won't happen again.

I accepted Tesoro’s invitation to get out of the room and its awful smell. But if that means eating like a pig for over an hour I’ll stay at his office. I'm already messing up my training schedule, I don't want to add fatass to my list of problems.

“What do you say? Do you want to do the same for dinner? I know you loved it.”

“I would rather die.”

The probe made itself known, vibrating deep inside me. It must have stayed there even after Tesoro got me off the wall. But after twenty four hours of it inside me, I must have gotten used to it. Now back to shaking my inside, I try to keep myself together.

“Fine, I will, just make it stop,”

“I don't know what you mean, but I'm sure you made the right choice,”

While we made our way back to the office, I could only nurse my complaining stomach and wonder if the walk to the Limo would offset the meal I just had.

We got into the car and drove back to Tesoro´s main building. When he opens the door, we are met by a pitch-black room,”

I thought we were going to this office. Where are we? 

“Don't lag, you don't want to get lost, do you?” he said.

“I can make my way back without your help.” 

With a sigh, I walk into the room. The door closes behind me, and I catch up to him. He snaps his fingers, and the space is illuminated, revealing a long white corridor. A tiny door on the wall opened with a Lemur coming out of it. His big, colorful eyes focused on Tesoro before he said, “Project Scenario 1.” 

The creature quickly got back into the hole, we waited for a few seconds. Then the white walls of the corridor changed into a rainbow of twirling colors. 

“What is this place?”

“It's a Lounge,"

“That answers nothing.”

The walls of the corridor start to change, now showing a deep cave. The image is so clear I would believe we teleported. I even stretched my arm to where the wall should be to make sure it was still there.

Tesoro continued to walk through the now cave-like corridor, and I followed his steps. 

“There are cast lemurs behind the walls. In the wild, they can project images from their eyes to scare predators. Here, they are great for making this augmented reality experience,” he said.

We continued to walk. The corridor changed into views of Fishman Island, Skypiea, Dressrosa, The Goa Kingdom, Alabasta, and even a land made of sweets.

“A candy land? They are imaginative,” I mumbled.

“Oh, all these places are real. We took the lemurs to memorize the landscapes and use them here,” he replied.

“To the candy land? You can't expect me to believe that.”

“It's Whole Cake Island. What? Would you like to go there even after that meal?” he said mockingly.

“Of course not! It's hard to believe something like that exists, more people would talk about it,”

“It’s the territory of Big Mom, no pirate in their right mind would go there. Don't blame me for your ignorance pirate hunter,”

I was about to try and strangle him when he suddenly stopped walking, and I crashed into his massive back.

“Oi, Why did you stop?”

“We are here. I told you this is a Lounge,"

He moved to the side and revealed a circular room. The walls looked like a night sky filled with stars. Inside, a group of beanbags filled the room. 

Tesoro sat in one of the beanbags at the center of the room, and I followed suit, knowing he wouldn't let me sit anywhere else. 

“Why are we in a Lounge anyway?”

“Just Shut up and enjoy it,” he said, closing his eyes and laying back against the bean bag.

I look into the different projections, trying to relax, but my stuffed stomach keeps groaning in pain. While I clutched it, Tesoro looked at me and said, “The bean bags have a massage setting. There is one mode that could ease your belly,”

“I do not have a belly! I'm just bloated from all that trashy food you pushed on me,”

“If it was so bad, why did you eat it all? I didn't tell you to do it. That was all you,”

“I-”

He cut me up and said, “Do you want the message or not? I wanted to come here and relax, not hearing your gut groan the entire day,”

The idea of the chair starting to massage me like the table brought mixed thoughts. I don't want to give Tesoro more opportunities to mess with me, not to mention If it starts going inside of me like the table I will die. But anything that could help me with the pain is worth trying.

“Fine,” I replied.

The beanbag sprouts two arms from its sides and starts massaging my shoulders. The gold bastard’s beanbag also starts massaging him, and I calm down for a second. The arms move to my chest and neck, the tension from the day leaving me slowly. Finally going to my stomach, they make circles over it, applying pressure now and then. I would burp occasionally, releasing some space, and before long the pain had subsided. 

They continue like this for a while, the feeling soothing alongside the images of the walls. I started to feel drowsy when images of Whole Cake Island started to show again. I could almost swear the smell of the sweets was real.

“Hey, wake up. I didn't bring you here to sleep all day,” said the golden jackass slapping in the face.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!”

That's when I noticed the smell of all kinds of food filling the atmosphere. The room now looks like a jungle of food, with donuts sprouting from trees and spaghetti waterfalls.

“So, is this place also real?”

“Yes, the Boin Archipelago has a series of islands that flourish food from their plants,”

“I owe an apology to Usopp. I thought this was another one of his lies,”

He looked at me with curiosity, and I added, “A crewmate said he went there, but he is the king of lying, so nobody believed him,”

His laugh thundered around the room “Not that many people go there and come out to tell the tale, he managed to do it and nobody believes him? That's just perfect” he said.

“Enough off time. You had your rest,” he added.

“Wait, can't we stay for longer?” I asked, not wanting to go back to the wall. 

“You are the one who fell asleep. Next time, try to enjoy the few seconds you have off the wall with your eyes open,” he said before walking towards the exit.

After fighting to get up from the cursed beanbag, I caught up to him. The corridor keeps playing images of the Boin islands with their respective scent. I guess the room also produces artificial smells to match the images. 

My stomach roars out of a sudden, and Tesoro looks back at me with a sinister grin.

“Hungry already, Roronoa?” he said.

How am I hungry? When I fell asleep, I was still so full I felt like a stuffed turkey. How long did I sleep?

“You are in luck, food is almost ready, and we can have an early dinner,” he added.

While I think of rejecting the offer, the images of the food and the enticing aroma make my mouth water. 

“Just this one time,” I say reluctantly.

<< First Chapter / <Previous Chapter /

[write-here-n-now]

What to do when you've crossed a line?

C.(S). Jeonghan x Reader | WC. 1240 | G. Angst| Pt. 6/? | *Jeonghan's POV*

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

He arrives at the parking lot of a riverside park that the two of you often frequent. In a little spot tucked away from the children's play area and picnic areas lies a bench covered by the draping branches of a large old tree. With the water flowing in front, it made for a perfect place to just sit without a thought. None of your other friends knew of it and it was nicer that way, a secret little hideout away from everyone for just the two of you.

He runs to the hidden spot hoping to see the familiar sight of you already sitting on the bench but, it's empty.

Sitting down, his hand hovers over the small engravement you made on the bench seat during a particular stressful vent session. The car key you had used to carve out “onwards” wasn’t that successful as the finished product looked like a very poorly looking carving of “awards”. He runs his fingers over the carving, remembering how you two made eye contact and then just simply burst out laughing at your “penmanship”.

All the memories you two created at this spot flood his mind one after the other, times where you talked each other’s ear off and ones where you found contentment just coexisting and admiring the flowing water.

He sat waiting for you to come, letting the sun’s bright yellow rays dim into soft orange and pink hues around him.

How long had he just simply been sitting there waiting? As the sky is a sliver away from completely turning pitch black, he pulls out his phone that he luckily remembered to grab in the rush out of his apartment.

When he switches it on, the screen flashes him “5:37” in big white numbers but below those, he’s greeted by you.

The lock screen is one of the many pictures he snuck of you sitting on the floor, Lego pieces splayed on the floor as your head is tilted downwards grinning at a completed section of your Lego model.

------

Your hair tied back, out of your face, brows furrowed, and lips pursed in concentration, unaware of Jeonghan’s eyes admiring your side profile.

You two had been sitting in his living room making new Lego sets all afternoon and now the evening, bringing snacks and meals to eat on the floor just to finish that last part of the model.

Sitting cross-legged for such a long period of time had Jeonghan’s legs aching, so to stretch them a bit he stood up and decided to head into the kitchen to also refill on some snacks, passing a quick glance to his side where you sat, focused and silent. When he returns, you’re still hunched over attaching piece by piece of the Lego.

He catches himself staring, eyes tracing the features of your face. Each crinkle, each mark moving alongside your changing expressions of focus.

Smiling to himself; how he wished he could just simply watch you forever, his heart fluttering at the very idea.

He reaches into his pocket to fish out his phone, angling it to capture you still unaware of his presence.

If the world ended right then and there, his last moments would be spent with his eyes full of you and he wouldn’t have it any other way. His hesitations over admitting his feelings for you, even to himself, were slowly but surely convincing him—especially when he felt the need to always have you in front of him, never out of sight.

Right as he’s about to click some more photos, you smile triumphantly over completing a section of your Wall-E model; the candid moment of your success becomes the permanent lock screen on his phone.

------

He stares longingly at the photo, how he missed seeing you in person.

He had been seated on the bench for some hours and now that the sun was going down, he realized you probably weren’t going to come.

He begrudgingly stands up and begins to walk back to the car, unsure of where to look next.  

Driving around, he stares aimlessly at the bustling of the city. People getting off work, couples walking hand in hand for date night, stall sellers cooking their dishes. He racked his head for any memorable spots that you might have opted to go to, but nothing was coming to mind.

Driving around, his brain recounted all your memories together at whatever he laid eyes on.

A bus stop? That time you ran after the bus when you bent down to tie your shoelace. A random gas station? That time you both got sick from eating too much candy during a road trip.

Following a familiar route near your university, he spots your favourite chicken restaurant.

The familiar sight transports him back to the moment of heartache reliving the memory of realizing how deep his feelings ran whilst eating chicken with you on a random and relatively mundane Tuesday. 

------

Some people could only truly let loose when they had some liquid courage in their system but for you, it was when you knew you had nowhere to be in moments of pure happiness, and also when you were fighting off sleep.

You, Jeonghan and your group of friends had been at the chicken restaurant for the past four hours, revelling in the freedom of finishing another year at university and not having to worry about completing another module or a cursed discussion post.

You sat across from him, he could see you progressing into a sleepier state by the minute and leaning onto the people beside you but then startling yourself out of sleep every so often to join in the conversation.

He pretends to focus on his own food and conversations, but his eyes stray towards you, not a single worry of someone catching him—not that any of your tipsy friends were paying attention.

Maybe it was the dim lighting of the restaurant, maybe it was the way you were chuckling at any small quip. Maybe it was the way you kept blinking, trying to push out any drowsiness or perhaps it was the way your responses started to jumble into one another, turning into a cute incoherent mess of phrases littered with poor attempts of suppressing yawns. At one point, he simply ignores whatever the conversation beside him is happening, his sole focus on you.

The final nail in the coffin, he realizes that he is utterly and completely head over heels for you. More than just a tug at his heart, more than butterflies in the pit of his stomach and more the happiness of your adorably sleepy state was his longing. The world around him was a blur of fuzzy faces and twinkling lights but you, you’re clear as crystal to him.

Still battling out sleep, you turn your head to meet Jeonghan’s eyes already placed on you. The two of you lock eyes, allowing yourselves to hold each other’s gaze, unwavering.

It’s as if the world is a little brighter around one another, the outside world a mere background. The two of were frozen in time trying to convey the uncertainties hidden deep past the surface of your hearts in your gaze.

A loud BANG and CLUTTER of cutlery and glass startles you out of the silent game of yearning. The moment dissipated, the wave of reality washes over you both—unsure of what exactly to do past it.

TAG LIST: @jjeongddol | @i-luv-stuff

[allgeek-sims]

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[gojo-enthusiast]

Chapter Three: New Home

mlist<3

My Serial Killer — Suguru Geto Series

It had been 2 months since you moved into Geto’s estate, despite the both of you sharing a bedroom, which also meant you both shared his king size bed, he had not taken advantage of you. He would graze his hands around your waist when he passed by you, or when he went to grab something that you were standing in front of, at those times you would mutter; "Do you have to stand so close?" With a scoff. You were natrually shy, but the tall broad man was calloused, and sweet in speech, yet you would ask yourself— “why would he deserve such pretty words and a timid attitude from me?” Despite all the time and little grazes, he did not touch you more than that.

"Don't be so sour." He growled into your ear. "Ah! Get out of my ear." You waved him off. You heard him chuckle to himself, as he grabbed a cup and walked away. "Fucking asshole." You thought to yourself, rolling your eyes. You began to see this silly side of him, he would come home covered in blood, or his face would look disgusted, or tired. Yet when you appeared in front of him, he would smile, and jokingly play with you, like as if you had become comfortable with him.

You were not.

Later on the day you were sitting on his big sectional, watching some tv show, eating ice cream. You spent a lot of your days doing that, all these shows you never had time to watch, you zombied yourself to the couch. "Hey pretty girl." One of Suguru’s new followers said to you. He was not allowed in the living room, you knew that for sure. "You're not allowed in here." You said plainly, but your hands began to shake. "I had to come see the nice piece of ass Sensai picked up. Are you as innocent as you look?" He smirks. "Please leave me be." You said standing up, to leave the room. "Hey hey hey, it's just me and you. I can take you away from here, let me just taste that pretty pus-" The man said, but was cut off by Geto slamming him down to the ground. "You like messing with what's mine? You know what I did to the last guy who touched my bride?" He growled. "I slit his throat, cut off his dick, and stuffed it into his mouth as he was chocking on his own blood." Geto muttered into his ear. "Now should I cut your tongue out, or cut your hands and feet off? You won't be able to take her anywhere with no feet and hands" Geto questioned. "Please no, I won't mess with her." The man cried. "Choose." He hissed. The man cried, and begged for mercy.

"Y/n, you get to choose. Tongue or limbs?" Geto peered up at you. You stood there frozen, you were not going to influence this behavior, you understood why he did what he did, but taking it to this extreme was beyond wrong. "Let him go. Please Suguru." You huffed out, trying control your tears. "Let's make a compromise, he touched your shoulder with his index finger. I get to cut it off, and the tip of his tongue." Geto eyed you. "Please please let me go!" The man cried out. Suguru stuck the knife into his mouth. "Shut the fuck up!" He hissed. "What about it y/n?" He asked again. You stood there frozen, you couldn't be apart of this. "Please just let him go." You looked away, trying to hide the fear. Geto stiffened up, the last thing he wanted was for you to fear him. Removing the knife from the mans mouth, he lifted the man up from his shirt. "Quit your crying, if it weren't for y/n kindness, I would have gutted you. Today you will walk out here with 9 toes and 9 fingers." Geto scoffed as he drug him out the living room, and disappearing to god knows where.

"Why won't he just be mean to me so I can hate him." You thought to yourself. You felt yourself become soft overtime for the man. By month 5, when everyone thought you were dead, and stopped looking for you. You became used to living at the estate. You loved gardening, so Geto built you a green house, and helped you set up different pots, and beds for your growing plants and foods. You baked like you did back when you ran the bakery. You cooked new things, enjoying having a huge kitchen to move around and cook foreign foods. "Try this." You held the spoon with a homemade sauce you made. Suguru opened his mouth, letting the sauce sit on his tongue. "Good, spicy." He swallowed, and smiling softly. You could see the way he was softer around you, and kept his violent ways, away from your sight. One day especially, one of the guards had started a fight with the other, over money to be exact. And Suguru snapped his neck the moment you were out of sight. You heard a yelp, then silence. You didn't ask, he didn't tell.

"What are you making?" He questioned. "Hehe." You giggled. "Ramen." You chuckled. "Ramen?" He questioned. "Yep, it's my comfort food." You smiled. You were making it the way your mom made it. "My mom used to make it for me when I was living at home. Anytime I had a long day, or just not feeling my best, she would make me this receipe and it cheered me up." You smiled from the thought of your mom. "You wanna see her?" He questioned. You perked up, "What do you mean?" You asked. "Do you... Want to... See Her, your mom?” He chuckled from his emphasizing. "I mean of course." You said. "Okay." He said plainly. That was the end of that conversation and you both sat there, eating ramen in silence, but you were convinced your heart was beating so loud that Suguru had to hear it. You felt the pulsating in your eyes, you were growing soft and drawn to this criminal, yet he seemed to love you in a way that made you feel like you would always be safe.

[thenationaltreasuregazette]

I'm In: Abigail's Arc, pt 3

Part 1 | Part 2

First, we looked at what Abigail's arc in the first National Treasure movie actually is, and how it compares to Elizabeth Swann's in Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl.

Then we followed both our ladies into the alluring peril and chaos that comprised their respective adventures.

Now, the epic conclusion!

I was gonna feel bad about this being three parts, but it actually parallels the three acts of each movie pretty well so...neat.

Part 8: From Bad to Worse

Elizabeth promises herself to Norrington to save Will, and Abigail promises the treasure to Ian in order to save Ben.

Both of these are pretty big sacrifices.

Said third parties hold up their end of the bargain, at least for the moment: Ian's crew orchestrates Ben's escape and the British Navy mounts a rescue attempt for Will.

And then, the double crossing begins!

Ian double crosses Ben! Everyone in POTC double crosses everyone!

The plans our ladies have orchestrated to get their guys out of a jam has led, temporarily, to a bigger jam.

Ian has kidnapped Patrick (and Abigail and Riley) to use as leverage to force Ben to find the treasure.

While the British Navy is waiting to ambush the pirates, Barbossa's crew goes on a curse-fueled fantastically badass undersea march to wreck what's left of the Navy ship.

Elizabeth frees the pirate crew with the aim of rescuing Will and Jack, and when they refuse, she sets off alone to get the job done.

Abigail is a little more just along for the ride at this point, but into the third act battle they go.

Something significant happens here in both arcs: I think I'll call it the, umm, Values Sync Battle Time?

Part 9: Values Sync Battle

In POTC this is a literal battle. As Jack duels with Barbossa, Will and Elizabeth work together to fend off the rest of the cursed pirates remaining in the cave. And not just, like, both fight at the same time, they are fighting together. They are passing weapons back and forth and teaming up to outsmart their enemies without even having to talk about it.

They are in sync. They are on the same page. They make a great team.

In NatTreas it's not a battles against an antagonist, but it is a fight for their lives. I am referring of course to the stair sequence.

Abigail pulls Ben onto a stable section of the staircase and then they both board the second elevator. The pully mechanism gives way and the elevator swings dangerously over the pit with Abigail hanging over the edge. And the Declaration is about to fall off the side.

ABIGAIL The Declaration. BEN Do you trust me? ABIGAIL Yes.

They may be two of the only people in the world who would make this choice drop/be dropped in order to save a piece of parchment but damn do they both want to do this. Talk about being in sync and sharing the same values.

Riley, obviously, had other thoughts.

RILEY I would have dropped you both. Freaks.

Part 10: Rock Bottom

Now, both parties outsmart their antagonist and earn...a huge loss and near-certain death.

The treasure room is empty and there's no other way out; the Black Pearl is gone and Jack is sentenced to the gallows.

Ben and Jack resign themselves to this loss.

But Patrick and Will step in to say no, we keep fighting. Patrick encourages Ben to keep searching for the treasure—which is a huge character turn from where he started—and Will rescues Jack, which is an act of piracy. Also a major character turn, although one that's been building steadily throughout the film.

Then our ladies get to announce that they've made the same turns themselves.

Elizabeth steps in front of Will and Jack, defending them from the British Navy and rejecting Norrington's proposal in the process.

NORRINGTON So this is where your heart truly lies, then? ELIZABETH It is.

Elizabeth is finally declaring her loyalties, which honestly she's held since the start of the film; she's always been pining for Will and infatuated with pirates, but she could never say so out loud before. Now she can:

GOVERNOR SWANN After all, he is a blacksmith. ELIZABETH (lovingly) No. He's a pirate.

And by extension, so is she.

Elizabeth will have two more movies to complete her transformation into the pirate king, but her position for now is clear: yay pirates.

Abigail, similarly, completes her character arc with two simple words.

ABIGAIL I'm in.

Part 11: I'm in

Admittedly, when I was first into National Treasure as a kid, this line didn't really register with me. I don't even think I liked Abigail all that much as a character?

But now I find this one of the most interesting character lines in the film.

Sure there are lots of more iconic, more quotable lines:

I'm gonna steal it. I'm gonna steal the Declaration of Independence

Who do you have? Him??

If you're not a steak you don't belong here.

Sir, it's the Hudson. Nothing is visible.

Look. Stairs.

Just to name a few.

But I find "I'm in" so fascinating because she doesn't really need to say this, right? Patrick is helping a rather despondent Ben get back on the proverbial treasure hunt horse.

PATRICK Okay. So we keep looking.

Abigail doesn't have to follow this up with "I'm in." She could say something the ensures Ben she believes in him without directly involving herself in the future of the treasure hunt. But instead, when presented with the opportunity, she jumps in.

Just like the lemon juice.

Just like calling Ian.

There is a part of Abigail Chase that has always been fascinated by the idea of treasure hunting. That curiosity kept her indulging Ben's claims back in her office, up to a point, and inquiring more about the pipe at the gala. It drove her to be the one to put lemon juice on the Declaration and get excited about the result.

Again, there are lots of ways out of this scene without her promising she's going to continue searching for the treasure. She could even be considering the idea of dating Ben and not being directly involved in any more treasure hunting herself. She could say, "wow what a crazy weekend, glad that's over," but she doesn't.

Instead, when the demands of the life she's built for herself are removed—she thinks she's long past lost her job at this point, not to mention they've been left for dead in a giant pit—when she has no obligation to be any specific kind of person and nothing left to lose, she chooses treasure hunting. She wants to stay involved in this. She likes treasure hunting. Other than the life or death peril, who wouldn't?

It must be so exciting for someone whose spent most of her life studying American history to suddenly have that history come to life. To be tangible, to be interconnected, and to be affecting the present in such concrete ways. Abigail has an office full of revolutionary era artifacts; she works with antique documents for a living. But she has never used them. Not in the vibrant way the treasure hunt demands.

Conclusion

Through the treasure hunt Abigail finds freedom. Maybe a freedom she didn't even realize she was looking for.

Like Elizabeth, she had been going about her respectable, if perhaps slightly narrow, life until something—and someone—calls to her.

Pirate gold.

Freemason pipes.

Throwing off the confines of your socially acceptable life in order to chase the freedom and adventure that had been whispering at you through the seams of your high status existence.

Something, something, two nickels.