#Cleaning Experts London

[ecoverdevaletingco]

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The best solutions for On-Site Car Detailing London: Car detailing is a technique that is for thorough cleaning of the vehicle. This is the essential step to ensure the best functionality, safety, look of the vehicle. Car detailing is for waxing, washing, cleaning of the car. The goal is to ensure the vehicle is clean from dust, dirt, germs that improve the hygiene of the vehicle. As per your priority, the car detailing would be tailored to offer you valuable results at the best price.

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[twgcleaningservicesltd]

Keeping your home or office space neat and tidy is essential, yet one area that commonly gets disregarded when it concerns the looks of a room happens to be carpets. Carpets, which are big investments in warm and comfortable rooms full of style, as dirty dirt, allergens and stains build up on them. It too needs regular cleaning. For London expert carpet cleaning, it is important to know what are the advantages of such a procedure — methods and how often one should do carpets cleansing.

[stanneshousekeeping]

London’s Top Commercial Cleaning Experts for Pristine Workspaces

In the bustling business environment of London, maintaining a clean and welcoming workspace is essential for productivity and professional appearance. With numerous companies operating within the city, selecting the right cleaning service can be daunting. London commercial cleaning experts specialize in providing top-notch services to ensure that offices not only look their best but also promote a healthy working environment. One of the key benefits of hiring commercial cleaning professionals in London is their commitment to high standards.

[salclean]

Expert Carpet Cleaning in London

At SalClean Service, we pride ourselves on delivering expert carpet cleaning services in London. Our experienced team utilizes advanced cleaning techniques and eco-friendly products to ensure your carpets are left spotless and refreshed. To learn more about our services, feel free to visit our online website.

[leatherrepairsleedsinuk]

Our expert team specializes in leather repair and restoration. We can bring new life to your worn-out, scratched, or faded leather furniture. Whether it's a tear, discoloration, or simply a refresh you're after, we've got you covered. Get in touch today and let us transform your beloved leather sofa into something beautiful again!

[masterdryclean]

MasterClean

Experience top-quality dry cleaning, laundry, and invisible mending services at MASTERCLEAN DRYCLEANER

[lovemomhatepolice]

gladiator - charles leclerc

navigation taglist requests

pairing: charlec leclerc x fem! reader

warnings: established relationship, cursing, pet names, slight! public sex, p in v English is my second language!

type: smut!

word count: 1k

belonging: NO NUT NOVEMBER

summary: did you have to wear that dress in public?

more content: formula 1 masterlist, charles leclerc masterlist

a/n: I encourage you to give requests in the Christmas marathon! click here :) and my first thousand celebration

The London evening was bustling with energy as the premiere of Gladiator 2 rolled out its gold carpet. Stars and fans gathered in crowds, cameras flashed in the dazzling lights of the city. Charles Leclerc stood at the center of it all, looking effortless in an elegant black suit and clean white shirt that fit his figure perfectly. His hair was neatly styled, and his trademark charm was on full display as he posed for photos, but his attention was constantly drifting to one person: his girlfriend, [Y/N].

You were radiant in an almost transparent floor-length gown that clung to her curves in all the right places. The larger material was on her breasts and hips, while the rest remained a bright shiny mesh. Charles couldn't take his eyes - let alone his hands - off you.

"You're going to be the death of me tonight." - he whispered in her ear as they stopped for a moment away from the cameras. His hand rested lightly on her back, and his fingers traced the exposed skin on her back with a light touch that sent chills down her spine.

She smiled, looking up at him through her lashes. "Behave yourself, Charles. We're in a public place," he said.

"I can't," he muttered, his voice low and full of desire. "Not when you look like that.

The tension between the two of you was enormous, and it only grew as the evening progressed. When it was after the movie premiere and Charles had given all the interviews, he grabbed your hand tightly and winked: "I need you. Now”

"Here?" you asked, raising your eyebrows.

He did not answer with words. Instead, he led you discreetly down a quiet corridor, away from the crowd. He found a vacant bathroom and pushed open the door, pulling you inside. He closed the door carefully behind you and his hands were immediately on your hips. And your lips joined in a heated kiss.

"You're unbelievable," you breathed between kisses, your hands entwined in his hair as he pressed your back against the cool tile wall.

"I can't help it," he murmured, and his voice was quiet as his hands roamed your curves, sliding down to grip your thigh and lift your leg around his waist. "All I could think about all night was you.”

You moaned quietly as he kissed your neck, his teeth brushing against your skin just enough to make it tremble. His hand moved down your leg, pushing aside its thin material.

Charles smiled under his breath when he felt your wet thong, and smiled even more when he matured that they were the ones he had given you himself.

"Mon dieu," he groaned as his fingers glided over the wet material. "You are death to me."

Charles growled softly, his lips capturing hers in another fiery kiss as his fingers slipped inside her, curling just right. Her moan filled the small space, and he couldn’t help but smirk against her lips.

“You’re so ready for me,” he murmured, his free hand sliding up to cup her jaw as he kissed her deeply.

[Y/N] couldn’t form a coherent response, her body arching into his touch as he worked her with expert precision. Her nails dug into his shoulders, and the sound of her pleasure was like music to his ears.

“Charles,” you gasped, your voice breaking as he added a second finger, his thumb brushing over your sensitive clit. “Please.”

“Not yet, baby,” he teased, looking straight into your eyes.

Charles' fingers worked inside you with precision, coiling inside you and hitting just the right spot, while his thumb circled your clitoris in perfect rhythm. The combination of his touch and the way he watched you - his green eyes darkened with desire - made your orgasm come faster than you could have expected.

Your hips bucked impatiently against his hand as waves of pleasure hit you. Charles didn't stop moving his fingers inside you, and his lips placed gentle kisses on your jaw and neck as you came down from your orgasm.

„That was amazing” you murmured, kissing his lips in steamy kiss. 

„That’s not the end” he responded. „Turn around for me pretty thing”

Obediently you turned toward the wall, moving more towards the mirror. You saw exactly how Charles stepped back just enough to undo his belt and pants, his movements quick and desperate. The sight of his ready and hard dick at your sight again amplified the wave of heat between your legs.

His hands slid down your sides, gripping your hips as he pressed against you, his erection teasing your entrance.

"Charles," you moaned, glancing at him in the reflection of the mirror.

The man kissed your shoulder, slowly guiding his member to your entrance. He gently lifted your leg, holding it with one hand. You didn't take your eyes off him in the mirror, and as soon as he pushed into you slowly, filling you inch by inch, his gaze also caught yours in the mirror.

The stretch was perfect, and the way he fit inside you, maybe too much, but exactly what you needed. When he was fully seated, he paused for a moment, his forehead resting on your shoulder as he tried to catch his breath and be reasonably quiet. After all, you had risked a lot by making love in a public restroom at a movie premiere.

"Fuck, you feel amazing." - he muttered, and you could hear the admiration in his voice.

You pressed against him, and your body was already even aching for him to move. "Charles, please."

That was enough for him to do everything she wanted. His hips began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first, but quickly gaining intensity. The sound of skin touching skin filled the small bathroom, accompanied by your shared moans and heavy breaths.

One of his hands slid down to your front, and his fingers found your clitoris again and easily. You felt that you were moments away from the longed-for fulfillment that was to come a second time that evening.

"You're so perfect," he moaned, his voice strained as he pushed harder, deeper. "So fucking perfect.”

You looked in the mirror, perfectly seeing Charles enter and exit you. It was the best view and feeling you had ever experienced in your life. You were so perfectly matched that it was downright exaggerated.

"Come to me," he mumbled, brushing his lips against your ear. "Let me feel you."

His words accelerated your orgasm. You slid lightly across the mirror, one hand clinging to Charles. Your walls clamped down on him, accelerating his orgasm. Charles joined you, moaning your name as you felt his cum inside you fill you.

For a long moment you stood like that, trying to calm down. Charles continued inside you, but slowly came out and let you clean yourself up, and carefully fastened his pants himself, bringing them back into order. He also helped do this to you with your dress, placing gentle kisses on your body.

“You’re going to kill me one day,” he teased, his voice warm and affectionate.

You laughed breathlessly, turning to face him with a teasing smile. “You started it, Charlie”

“Well, you should have not worn that dress,” he murmured, placing his hands on your hips and pressing a kiss to your lips.

And even though you could hear knocking on the door all around you, and all that media hype a little further away, for you the world did not exist.

A/N: i swear!! charles and carlos looked so good at that premiere

please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

[geeksleather]

Leather Furniture Repairs Lutterworth - local leather experts

At Leather Furniture Repairs Lutterworth, we know that sometimes the damage to your sofas and chairs can go beyond the leather surface. That’s why our leather experts are also trained in a wide range of furniture repairs. Whether you need help with loose stitching, sagging cushions or worn springs and frames, we’re here to help.

[mad-scientist-enthusiast]

Real Rashid thought Daniel Molloy's book would be his big break. Once a well-respected agent of the Talamasca with a window office in the London HQ, Rashid felt that he had been demoted in a way by having to play butler in Dubai for the past 5 years. He really thought he could crack this Armand guy by appealing to his upbringing in the Islamic faith, however he severely underestimated just how long it had been since the subject was last human. Armand was alien to him; a creature he couldn't begin to understand. But still, Rashid tried his best to do so, eventually working his way up the penthouse staff until he became the personal assistant of the undead couple. He expected a breakthrough— maybe a promotion in the Talamasca, or a raise in his pay from the vampires—but none came. Instead he suffered through ushering purchased victims to their inhuman executioner, setting the table for a meal of freshly sedated rabbit, and sanitizing the bedroom after some particularly messy BDSM activities. Rashid quickly learned that all the blood he had to clean was actually his employers' ejaculate, which caused him to take a massive hit of psychic damage each time he rinsed it off of one of their silicone sex toys. All this is to say, Rashid really thought Daniel would be his ticket out. The man was an expert at pissing these vampires off; he knew just where to strike his blows, what questions to ask, what faults to uncover. Rashid knew this would end with a bang, however this was not the kind of bang he anticipated. Rashid had no problem with gay people; he hung out with a few queers in his time at Oxford. But there's a difference between being gay, and impersonating your staff member for a BDSM roleplay thing with your husband to psychosexually manipulate an old man. He thought the explosive divorce would be the end of these antics, but that was foolish of Rashid. As he walked to the bedroom door, iPad in hand, hoping to catch the vampire Armand in a moment of solace so that the two of them could finalize his divorce settlement with Louis de Pointe du Lac, he heard the faint sound of movement inside. That should have been enough to put him off, but in his defense, he really didn't expect to open the door and see his employer spreading a pair of 69 year old asscheeks and promptly sticking his tongue inside. Daniel Molloy, his one saving grace, was handcuffed to the bars behind the bed and decidedly very naked. His whole body was flushed and blood dripped from his neck and other places where Armand had undoubtedly bit him. It was then that Daniel Molloy looked over at him, and Rashid felt his blood run cold. All his hopes and dreams of getting out of this job flew out the window. He could see it already; Armand taking him with when he moves out of the penthouse, and he'd be playing butler for another 5 years—this time in America where Armand has moved in with Daniel Molloy. Rashid had witnessed more than his fair share of vampire genitals in his time with Armand and Louis, and he did NOT want to see any more wrinkled old man dick!! And so it was then that Real Rashid finally decided to quit his job. The Talamasca did not have good enough healthcare benefits to make up for the psychological damage he would have from staying under Armand's employment.

[blueiscoool]

Viking-age Treasure Came to Scotland From West Asia

Ten years on from the discovery of the Viking-age Galloway Hoard in south Scotland, experts have revealed that part of the collection came from West Asia.

The collection - described as one of the most important UK archaeological finds of the century - was found by metal detectorist Derek McLennan in 2014.

A lidded silver vessel was discovered still wrapped in its ancient textiles, which is extremely rare, and meant that the surface of the vessel could at first only be seen through X-ray scans.

Experts say the vessel is originally from what is now central Iran and it was transported halfway around the world more than 1,000 years ago. The vessel was found to contain other treasures, like silk and brooches.

Its textiles have now been partially removed and preserved, and the vessel has been cleaned using lasers which removed any green corrosion and revealed details of the design, including crowns, fire altars, leopards and tigers.

This imagery is unusual in western Europe but it is linked with the iconography of Zoroastrianism, the state religion of the Sasanian Empire which was the last Persian empire before the early Muslim conquests from 632AD.

The hoard - which contained more than 5kg of silver, gold and other materials - was discovered on what is now Church of Scotland land near Balmaghie in the historical county of Kirkcudbrightshire.

Dr Martin Goldberg from the National Museums Scotland said the vessel was "further evidence of the cosmopolitan make-up of the Galloway Hoard".

He said: "We now know that the Viking-age silver that makes up most of the Hoard was melted down from coins and metalwork from early medieval England.

"Some objects, like the lidded vessel, stood out from the rest and the scientific analysis now confirms this.

"It is incredible to imagine how the vessel made its journey halfway round the known world, from Iran to this distant corner of southwest Scotland.”

The artefact from about 900AD is set to go on public display for the first time next week, on loan to the British Museum’s upcoming Silk Roads exhibition in London.

Other objects from the Galloway Hoard will go on long-term display at the National Museum of Scotland in Edinburgh, while a portion will go on show at Kirkcudbright Galleries.

Dr Sue Brunning, from the British Museum, said: "We're delighted that visitors to Silk Roads will be the first in the world to see this key object from the Galloway Hoard.

"Among its remarkable contents were Scotland's earliest recorded silk, and so it is a highly appropriate inclusion in the exhibition."

[writingfromasgard]

In-game Bio: Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish Masterlist

The Scottish born, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, is a fearless, self assured and instinctive hard-charger. He remains the youngest candidate to pass SAS selection in the Royal Army history. He earned the nickname "Soap" for cleaning house with remarkable speed and accuracy in room clearance techniques and urban warfare tactics. He is competitive, daring and always looking for a win.

Soap is a trained sniper and demolitions expert, often operating in isolation and under pressure, performing critically timed activities in support of clandestine missions. He is a risk taker, a fierce competitor and a fight in every sense of the word.

Soap has spent the last several years carrying out both covert and overt operations around the world. In 2019, he was chosen to be part of Captain Price's newly formed elite special operations unit known as Task Force 141.

In 2023, Soap was KIA responding to a terror attack in the London Chunnel led by Vladimir Makarov and his Konni group soldiers.

[ecoverdevaletingco]

Uncover how professional interior detailing in London preserves your car’s value and comfort. Listen to our podcast to learn why it’s a smart investment. Read More: https://www.articleezines.com/interior-detailing-london/

[thewritetofreespeech]

May I request Jack The Ripper and Hades with an s/o who's a seamstress?

“Jack, please hold still.” [Y/N] insisted as they stuck another pin into the seam line. “There’s a very good chance I could stick you if you keep moving.”

“Apologies, dearest. I am just excited.”

Jack knew of his lover’s skills with a needle & thread. Almost as deft and clean as his work with a knife. However, he had always been too shy to ask them to make him anything. Feeling it would be wrong to except a piece of their art just because they were a couple.

But when they offered to make him a new jacket, he leapt at the chance. Literally.

“I don’t know why you are so excited. It’s just a suit.” They replied with a chuckle.”

“Yes, but it is a suit that you made. By one of the finest seamstress/tailors in London.”

“I’m barely the finest in this borough.” [Y/N] said, sticking in another pin. “Not if Mr. Hertsmere has anything to say about it.”

“He won’t for long.” Jack commented off handedly, before he grinned again at his reflection in the mirror at his new suit.

“Ok. Now go take it off, carefully, so the pins don’t come out. I should have it later next week.”

Jack practically skipped off the dressing pedestal and took off the garment with expert care.

The suit was finished later that week, right on the dot, and Jack felt like he was the best dressed man in all of London. No, the world.

Mr. Hertsmere certainly thought so. Or, at least that was what Jack thought to believe when he was kind enough to spray his blood across the wall, and not his new fine suit.

“My love, you know I love you, right?”

“Yes.” [Y/N] replied. Continuing to read their book, despite hearing Hades come in the room. Their relationship was comfortable enough that they didn’t have to acknowledge each other every time they came into a room.

“That I would do anything for you and that you are the light of my life?”

“Yes….” This was getting a little suspicious, however.

“That I appreciate everything you do for me, and I treasure every gift you’ve ever given me?”

“Hades what are you….” They finally turned around and saw Hades standing there.

Battered and bloody, but physically fine, holding what was left of his jacket. “There was a bit of an accident when I was fighting the Titans…..”

[Y/N] sighed. “An accident, eh?” They asked as they stood up. “And how did you manage that?”

“Technically, it wasn’t me. I didn’t ruin it. The Titans did.”

“Of course,” they replied, and took the scraps in their hands. “There’s nothing left here for me to salvage. I take it you brought it back to show me it was damaged and not lost?” That might have been a subconscious way of thinking, but yes. [Y/N] sighed again. “I’ll make you another.”

“Thank you [Y/N].”

“Go wash up and I’ll have it finished by then. But Hades, if you ruin this one, I will never forgive you.”

Hades nodded and went to wash & get changed. He never let anything happen to his clothes again. Too afraid that his love would never speak to him again if he ruined another coat.

[celmian]

"Cooking for Alfred" Damian Wayne x OC's short fanfic.

/Adult Damian (University)

/warnings/ Dirty joke, (18+) language/

Hi, first of all this is just one of the part of the main fanfic I have been written. The oc is now dating Damian and she wants to cook for Alfred on his birthday. You can follow-up the main story in AO3. The fanfic is called 'Damian Wayne x OC : Hunting the witch'. English is not my first languages so, I hope I didn’t mess up anything.

Also, the oc name is Celine Constantine. She is John Constantine's daughter. Hope you enjoy.

_________________________________________

“…Celine, didn’t you used to tell me that you know how to cook?”    “Well, cooking is not baking...”    A picture of two teenagers approaching adulthood walking chaotically in the kitchen… Around the counter island there was powder and the egg panels all over were probably a strange sight that happened in Wayne Manor…a sight that Alfred Pennyworth would not have allowed to happen in normal situations because he wouldn't have to bother cleaning up the mess later. 

...but today is Alfred's birthday. 

  So Celine has a crazy idea. As a resident, she wanted to give him a surprise. So, they have Bruce take the old man into town while the two young men,Celine and Damian, prepare a homemade birthday cake for the butler. The witch Constantine claims to have worked behind the stove at Fine Dining restaurant before...Damian doesn't know in which position. But from the looks of it, she isn't a dessert chef definitely... 

“...Okay, I'm just one of those people who helps prepare the cold kitchen where they serve appetizers and such...but back when I'm in London, I always cook for myself. I just never made dessert. That’s all.” The girl immediately defended her cooking skills. “The pasta with grilled vegetables that you ate the other day was made by me...” With that, both of her hands are now placed on the hips..    “Really?”    Damian Wayne had known that his girlfriend liked to help Alfred prepare food…but he thought she might just be chopping vegetables, preparing meats, whatever like that. Instead of making her own menu like she claimed. 

…The other day, the pasta that Damian packed to eat at university for lunch was so delicious that he asked Alfred to make it a daily menu. The old man smiled suspiciously. It wasn't him who made it, but it was the witch. 

“…Shall we make pasta instead then?” the young man suggested as his head recalled the rich flavor of the fresh pasta and grilled mushrooms, he had eaten the day before…    “It's Alfred's birthday, Damian. We must make a cake...”  

“But the others will come here soon…we have to prepare other kind of food anyway. Why don't you go take care of the savory and leave me here with the cake?” Both Richard Starfire, Raven the witch, and Stephanie Brown...including Tim Drake will be here today for the old man’s birthday. So, if they both waste time on one cake, they won't get anything done into pieces. The young man waved his hand and chased his girlfriend away from his dessert making area, earning a look of pouty face from Celine Constantine. 

"..You? Are you sure you know how to bake?" The girl looked at her boyfriend's face judgmentally... 

“Better than you do.” His hand moved towards the first cake that had been baked, which was so crumbly and incomplete that the whole thing had to be thrown into the trash… Only then the black-haired witch calms down and walked away to do her own duties as well... 

A long time had passed and the whole kitchen was quiet…no sound except the sound of boiling water, the sound of beating eggs, and other sounds of cooking. Celine walked back around to find her boyfriend in the dessert kitchen area, which was also quiet. She saw him in an apron Standing and squeezing cream into a round disc of something. With diligence and expert look. The young girl watched as those slender, beautiful fingers gently put the round plates together. so, she couldn't help but tease him about how skilled he was. 

“You make macarons? Wow. I didn't know that I slept with the Master Chef of dessert every day.” ...This French dessert is so hard to make. Even Celine couldn't make it through just baking a cake...but this Baby Bat showed off his skills in making macarons? Why he’s so annoyingly talented? 

Damian didn't answer…he shook his head and wiped the sweat from his chin. That's when the young girl came to help. using the handkerchief that was placed on his shoulder to wipe away the sweat that was flowing down the small frame of his chin before smiling at the face's owner.    “..Does this mean that if we get married you will be the househusband? Hmm? Dami?” 

“Dream on.” Damian shook his head, expanding his words as he looked proudly at the work on the table. “...Housework is a duty that we must help on both sides. And I have to go to work…Father's company will soon be mine. If I only act as your butler, who will run the company? Hmm, Celine?” Those words weren't very serious... The young man kissed his girlfriend's head as a thank you for helping him wipe his face before walking off to explore the savory side..    “…You....You make a heck lot of pasta.” Deep voice hurriedly commented on the amount of fresh pasta that the young girl had prepared in a pot for the people coming to the party to eat.   “Well, don't you remember the last time Dick ate the entire pot of meatballs by himself?” Celine reminded the young man of Bruce's birthday back in the middle of the year when the eldest of the family accidentally ate a meatball that Alfred had made for everyone all by himself.  “You’re right. Richard must have eaten it all by himself.” Damian Wayne immediately agreed…he nodded before quickly helping his girlfriend clean up the kitchen. Prepare a plate for the guests who will be coming to the old butler's birthday dinner in a few hours. 

In the evening, Bruce, Alfred and Stephanie, who went to help Bruce, arrive at the manor with Damian, Dick, the two girls from Titans, and Tim Drake is waiting. Of course, Damian briefly relents with Tim to stop his eldest brother from eating all the food before the birthday owner arrives.    The old man walked into the house, filled with joy. Starfire and Raven were the ones who brought out the cake. The remaining people sang songs of blessing to the talented butler. Damian stood and applauded silently. Dick sings off-key and loses his voice as Stephanie tries to save the song from crisis but failed. And after Alfred blew out the candles, they all gathered around the grand dining table of the mansion that was full of guests today…    “..This pasta is very delicious. Miss Celine, did you do it yourself?” The old butler was happy… that today he didn't have to prepare huge quantities of food himself. But what will the condition of the kitchen be like? This is something to worry about.    “Yes.” Celine smiled as she proudly watched Richard gobble down her pasta from the pot… 

“...What about macarons? Did you make it yourself? It's just as delicious as the one my friend brought from France.” Tim tried to compliment the new girl in the Bat House that he hadn't talked to much before Damian put down his fork and a smile curled his lips. It was then that Red Robin knew exactly who the person that made this tray of macarons was. “Oh my gosh…”  Tim shook his head, his hand hurriedly put down the dessert… but after a while he reluctantly picked it up and ate it again.    “Wanna bet on who made the cake?” On Dick's side, his hand was still holding the fork around the pasta. Turning to Bruce, who had been eating quietly by himself for a long time… The Dark Knight shook his head. Looking at the large chocolate cake with candles that had been sliced ​​up by Raven and Starfire for the party. Those blue eyes looked at the cake for just a moment and then responded immediately. 

“It’s Damian, obviously.”    “But I think it’s Celine,” Dick quickly bets against…    “..Ahem, Master Bruce, Master Richard. Gambling is not a good behavior to do on this kind of celebration....”  The birthday man sitting next to Bruce couldn't help but cough after hearing that conversation… He took the cake from Starfire and held it in his hand before considering it without tasting it. “I think they both do it together.”    “Accept the bets” Nightwing gave the old man a challenging smile before turning and asking to the two young men who the winner of this bet would be… “Hey! Little D! Celine! Who made this cake?”    “It’s Damian.” …and the answer from the young witch made Alfred stunned because even though he was the one who taught Damian how to bake, he had no idea that the boy would be able to use what he had taught him to do it all by himself. Dick was annoyed but managed to get a smile from Bruce as the old butler and Nightwing took a cash from their pockets and paid the manor a bill each. 

…and soon after the cakes, pasta, macarons, and all sorts of food were eaten by the people in the house, most of whom was Dick, the guests gradually left. They left Alfred a gift. Stephanie left the baking equipment. Damian gives him a cookbook. Dick gives him a new suit. Raven and Starfire buy him a new portable oven. Bruce gave him gloves and a winter coat, but Celine unexpectedly gave the same book as her boyfriend… 

“Damn, I didn't know we were going to buy the same book... and it's the exact same one but in a different language,” the young witch complained about when Alfred has to have the exact same gifts but in difference language without nobody knowing it beforehand. “...And why are you buying a Chinese text cookbook? Shouldn't those things have to be transported by ship?” The two young men were cleaning up the house while Alfred was sent to sleep by Damian. Meanwhile, Bruce handles company work before leaving on late-night patrol. And Celine complains loudly about the gift she has just given the old butler. 

“...Chinese recipes should be read in Chinese. Do you think Pennyworth couldn’t read Mandarin?” Damian frowned at the witch's question. She usually likes to buy books about the same story but in different versions or sometimes in different languages. But today she suddenly complains to him about it… “You can't read Chinese? Can’t you?” So, the young man made this assumption.    …and damn, Damian Wayne really has good instincts for matters that don't matter. 

The girl rolled her eyes, and the young man knew immediately that she was complaining about the whole Mandarin language stuff because she couldn't read it herself…    “I swear to you. Damian…if you start speaking Chinese to me. I'm going to suck your dick until it's rotten-”    “-下流 (Xia Liu)” …and of course, the mouthy young man wasn't easily fazed by that threat. He chuckled before starting to spit Chinese at the other person after knowing that she wasn't good at it...well, he's always been like this...loves competition like a psychopath.    “坏蛋 (Huai Dan)” But then the black-haired witch immediately shot back… she put down the powder box she was holding and put it on the countertop with a look of trouble on her face amidst the young man's bewildered expression.    “..I thought you couldn't speak Chinese?”    “When did I say I couldn't speak Chinese? I just couldn't read it.”  Celine raised her eyebrows with a defiant expression on her face…    “Then from now on, I'll send you a text in Chinese-”    -wad!    And then the box of powder that had been put down in the first place flew towards Damian Wayne immediately as he continued to annoy her. The witch already knew that an ex-assassin like him would definitely be able to catch that thin cardboard box. So, she crossed her arms over her chest, as her boyfriend caught it with precision and looked towards her.    “Did you know…one of your bad habits is throwing things when you don't get what you want?” Damian had seen Celine throw a pillow or sometimes an entire cigarette box at her father...sometimes she had a good reason for doing that. Sometimes there is no reason at all. Celine Constantine was spoiled rotten by her irresponsible father. But she is a spoiled person who knows that she has a bad personality…so Damian can accept it in somewhat of of way.

Because he's like that too.    “..So? Do you want me to describe your bad habits too?” The girl folded her arms across her chest and raised her head to look at her boyfriend with another look of trouble. 

“Go on…” The young man looked at those expressions. He didn't feel annoyed. Instead, he slowly walked towards his lover... a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as his girlfriend smiled back and knew that he was definitely going to find something to get back at her... 

“Let's start with what? The size of your dick? I think it should be illegal-”  

“-Celine, we are talking about my bad personality, not what you like but denies that you don't like...” Damian, on the other hand, quickly used his strong hands to gather his girlfriend's mischievous body into an embrace...watching her laughing, pretending to run away but not getting anywhere.    “..So... What about your competitive personality? I swear, if I say I like a horse's cock, you will definitely going to lengthen it to compete with the hoarse-” 

Phew!!    ...and Celine's foul mouth made the arrogant boyfriend unable to bear it anymore. He took the box of powder in his hand that his girlfriend had thrown and dumped it on her head. He knew that Alfred would definitely curse him if he saw the kitchen floor right now. But believe him, it was very satisfying to see a person with a good mouth become silent because of the amount of flour stuck in her throat. She choked, the powders are now all over the sweet face attached to that bad mouth... 

But Celine Constantine wasn't the type to give in even in the most demanding situations… She turned and smeared the powder on her boyfriend's face. Smeared white powder on his perfect body. Damian is inferior. His hands scooped up the powders that had flown onto the counter and threw them all over his girlfriend's face, causing a small war in the kitchen. The one that ended up with Alfred walking in… The old man wanted to come get some water to quench his thirst after waking up late at night. Before coming to see his nightmare come true. Two young people threw cooking flour at each other. Rubbing each other's hair like it was a fun idea...Even Richard, at his most naughty age, had never done anything like this before...Then both young adults get warned by Alfred. Damian Wayne, who even used to be a child with a loudmouth that caused a lot of troubles, but he never caused any mischief like this before. So, he gets warned too. 

…but hey! At least this time Celine didn't start it.    Didn’t she?            “I got 1 point, and you got 0…” 

After fighting until they both were satisfied, the two young people came to take a dip in the water to clean themselves together after the war ended before Damian had to go on patrol with his father... Celine acts like a little kid who likes to play with a duck. She lets the plastic ducky float on the water in the tub. Damian was forced to watch her play with it while having his lover sit on his lap in the tub. 

“Why did I get 0 points when I really am the one who started it?” His thin lips gently kissed the shoulder of the person on his lap. His eyes looking at his wet girlfriend, he is frowning while asking...    "..It's easy because I'm the one giving the scores." Celine pinches her boyfriend's nose at the same time as squeezing the duck in her hand...it very well triggers a feeling of annoyance from her lover. A strong hand squeezed that round cheek, causing her to scrunch up until he had to let go before the two of them could continue their war in this bathroom.    “I think Pennyworth looks very happy… I have to thanks you for organizing this event for him today.” After pounding his girlfriend's face until he was satisfied, Damian Wayne hurriedly changed the conversation to the serious subject before Celine could react… Her expressions changed and nodded her head softly. Continue squeezing the duck in her hand instead of getting revenge on Damian... probably because she was thrilled that her idea made the old man smile this much. 

“...Come on, don’t act like you guys have never done this before…” Celine pouted a little while Damian's smile twitched slightly at the corners of his mouth before he looked away. 

“Actually… Normally we are all busy that no one takes the lead in this matter. Richard and Drake would just stop by for lunch on the day. Gave things to Pennyworth and left… We never got together like this. Until you are the one who suggested it.” ...It was probably the nature of Bat House to always forget the most important matters outside of their night duties… They often forgot the daily lives of those around them. It's something that almost every Bat member been.    “..So, I'm glad you chose to be a normal person and stay here with Pennyworth.” Ever since Celine Constantine entered the mansion, things had started to change a little… Even though she is that kind of person who don't celebrate her own birthday but she did it for others. After receiving Damian's first birthday present. She organizes a party for Bruce. And this time it was Alfred. She comes from the house of an occult detective but doesn't want to continue being the occult detective. Like she knew how lonely their careers were…she chose to be a normal person and spent her time doing things that Damian and the other Bats couldn't. Both are things that John Constantine couldn't do either. 

She chooses to spend time with those who she loves.    Celine gently touched her lover's face when she heard that. Her hand slid down his face before embracing it. 

“...Don't worry. Damian…Whatever you feel like you can't do or find it difficult to do. I will do it for you. You don't have to say or express everything to me. Just be with me, be happy…and I will do whatever you want to do for you.” A sweet voice whispered softly, kissing her boyfriend's forehead once...it was a voice that the young man felt calm after listening to. It felt like he didn't have to try so hard anymore…it felt natural. That would be more accurate to say... 

…Damian Wayne closed his eyes and immersed himself in that embrace for as long as he could. 

______________________________________

P.s.: Damian in this fanfic became softer after dating Celine and she moved in his manor because she decides to study at Gotham's university. Her back story made her father doesn’t celebrated her birthday because John Constantine didn’t celebrate his own birthdays too. Hopefully I will post more of them in the future.

P.s.2 : Yes, She has a foul mouthed like her dad lol

[lumosinlove]

Christmas Eve Will Find Me

One: Finn

King’s College

London, England

“So, to wrap up…”

It was nearly a half hour too early, but Finn was tired. This class wasn’t clicking with him, not like his 11:00 o’clock. Maybe it was because it was nearly Christmas holidays. Not even a week left. The students were sluggish. They were giddy. They wanted to go home so badly—homemade meals and presents and holiday markets—that it didn’t even occur to them to think anything other than that Professor O’Hara would want to do the same.

Finn didn’t want to go home. Home wasn’t there to go to. Just a building now. Just a room.

“Um.” He scratched the back of his neck. “I know this is the last reading of the semester guys, but let’s at least try to be a little comprehensive. Austen is badass, okay?” They laughed. Somehow, swearing always worked to crack open a class’ shell. And Finn was an expert. “Give the ending what it deserves.”

He looked up when no one said anything. Hands were on bags, poised to go, and it ticked something wrong inside of him. He wanted out, too, but he didn’t know where. “All right. See you on Wednesday for our final class.”

Even before he finished speaking, people were leaping out of their chairs. He’d expect half attendance. Tops. He tried to clean up his desk quickly. Tried not to forget anything here.

You’re always leaving something, mon amour, aren’t you?

“Professor O’Hara?”

Finn looked up. “Oh, hey, Martha.”

Martha. He could always count on Martha. She was a third year, took almost all of his classes. She was smart, if not a little eager and quick to cut her classmates off.

“I just wanted to say that I won’t be here on Wednesday. I have a pretty long way to go, and the flight was cheaper. I hope you don’t think I’m ditching.”

He could almost always count on Martha.

“Nah, of course not.” Finn picked up his books. “Have a good break.”

“Thanks. Um. And this is for you.”

She was holding out a tin. Cookies, probably. Or, biscuits, as they called them here. It was always something with her. Last year, she’d given him a scarf and he really had thought he’d have to sit her down and firmly say that, not only was he her teacher, but he had a husband.

Finn almost laughed. Almost.

Mon Rouge, they all have crushes on you. Don’t even pretend you don’t know that. Hands in his hair, familiar mouth on his cheek. But you always come home to me. All for me?

“Thanks that’s really kind of you.” He dredged up a smile. He took the tin. “Happy holidays.”

“Are you and your husband doing anything special?”

A strange cotton-buzz started up in his ears.

Martha blinked, a little confused, and pointed tentatively at the background on Finn’s phone, which had lit up with an email.

“That’s your husband right? You always mention him—or—sometimes you do. And he came to our class once, remember? Last year. I think he’d just gotten back from a business trip and he surprised you. It was so cute, everyone was talking about it for ages.”

Finn remembered that. Logan had been gone for a month. A month. Remember when he thought a month of spaced out phone-calls from strange numbers was difficult to deal with? Last week, someone had gotten a wrong number at 9:30 at night and Finn had sobbed himself to exhaustion on the kitchen floor. Hope was stubborn, it was so stubborn.

“Yes,” Finn said. “I remember.”

He stared at the phone background. Logan, early in the morning. About a year and a half ago now, Finn had received a ticket to Spain with a little heart drawn on it. It had brought him straight to Logan and the most luxurious hotel he’d ever set eyes on. Private suit. Private pool. A whole week, just the two of them. No sudden phone calls, no pulling the go-bag out from the back of their closet, no apologetic smiles, and no last kisses that Finn knew, despite all of his efforts, would fade eventually.

Logan, early in the morning. On the balcony, softer than the sunrise. Oh, that smile. Finn couldn’t do this. How was he doing this alone?

He needed to start telling people. More than their families, people in his daily life. He had been given a story by the agency and everything. It was the story given to Logan’s family. His parents. His three older sisters. God, Noelle’s voice on the phone, the two of them crying to each other. The one Finn had stumbled through for his brother Alex and his parents. He needed to. Logan Tremblay had died in a freak accident while overseas for work. He’d been killed on impact and had felt no pain. He had died overseas. Finn had seen the body, that was how the story went. Finn had seen it off the plane and he’d correctly identified him.

But there had been no body.

Only silence, which felt just as dead.

“I don’t know.” Martha shrugged. “Beach trip?”

Finn managed to shake his head. “No.” He swallowed. He put his hand against his chest. Logan’s necklace rested there. It was a ritual that he guessed was dead, too. Logan put the fleur-de-lis pendant, silver, around Finn’s neck every time he left. Finn placed it back around Logan’s every time Logan came home. “The usual.” That wasn’t really an answer at all. “Family.”

“Oh, lovely.”

He was planning on going to New York. His brother Alex and his family would be there. His parents. He thought his mom’s sister, too, maybe. What he would do there, he didn’t know. It would all be absences. One after another. Oh God.

“Have a great vacation, Martha,” Finn said. He grabbed his phone, and his notes, not bothering to even put them back in his bag. The tin of cookies. “Don’t worry about next class. You’re ahead anyway.” He didn’t know if that was true.

In his office, Finn shrugged into his jacket. He paused, looking at the green scarf on his office’s coatrack.

Two hands pulling him in.

“I didn’t know you were back,” Finn said against Logan’s mouth.

“No one ever knows where I am.” Logan smiled into their kiss. “That’s kind of the point.”

Finn came to—and it was like that, like waking up from a horrible sleep every time—from the force of catching himself with his palm against his desk. His chest hurt. He should tell someone about this. About losing time like this to memories he knew better than his own present. The tears came like this sometimes, too, unstoppable. He sent a glance towards the the small window in his door, but the blind was shut. He kept it that way now for this exact reason. The first breath heaved out of him and he sucked it right back in, dropping to a knee.

Happy holidays, happy holidays, happy holidays.

It was cold enough to feel like Christmas was coming. Finn hoped he didn’t look too horrible in the evening light as he made his way towards the Underground. His bag felt heavy and his eyes still felt warm from crying. Had it been crying? Part of him wondered—and sometimes he dreamed—that he was reliving Logan’s death somehow. Like if Logan had had to go through something, he needed to go through it, too. Maybe he had drowned. Or suffocated. Killed by someone? An accident? A cover-up, dragged through an backroad, buried in a shallow grave—Finn was about to get pulled under again, hand already against the brick wall, when a voice said his name.

He looked up, the wind brushing his hair off of his forehead. It was snowing, he realized, very lightly, and he had to blink against it to see who had called to him.

He actually didn’t recognize them at first. He supposed that was their job. Shifting shadows. A million different identities at once, depending on what they wanted a target to see. Not that he was a target. Their clothes were unimpressive, nothing to be remembered. No long dark coats, no hats. James didn’t have his glasses on and Sirius’ black hair was ruffling back in the wind. He might remember how handsome they both were, if he was a stranger.

But he wasn’t. Those were Logan’s team members, and Finn wasn’t supposed to know that.

Finn couldn’t look them directly in the eye as he approached. They waited for him.

“What are you doing here?” Finn asked. Logan?Logan?Logan?

James said nothing, but Sirius took something out of his pocket and handed it to Finn.

It was a photograph of Remus Lupin. Remus. Finn had really liked Remus, and so—he looked up at grey eyes—had Sirius.

“This was captured on a bank security camera in Athens,” Sirius said.

That’s where Remus and Logan had been. Accident. Not recovered. No more information. Back road? Shallow grave? Shot in the back of the head? Bruised wrists from tight ropes? Plastic bag struggle—

“What,” Finn began but had to cut off. It was happening—was it? Again. The panic. The sick sadness. The air just…went. Disappeared. Just like Logan. “Does this tell us what happened?”

He couldn’t stand the way Sirius hesitated. He reached out and gripped his arm. He didn’t feel like a ghost like Finn had expected him to.

“Does this tell us how they…” Finn whispered.

James stepped forward, hazel eyes looking so different without his glasses. “It was taken five days ago, Finn.”

[thorarms]

On asgardian subcultures

Aka ive been thinking about this for months and youre all finally gonna hear about it

Obligatory disclaimer of im not an expert in any of this, ive mixed ideas from the movies comics and myths together so if thats not your thing im sorry, a ton of this is my own headcanons about asgard so ymmv, correct me if i get any facts wrong, this is an oversimplified look at asgard and how countercultures develop (theres no way I could cover everything), consider this post a jumping off point, etc. etc.

Subcultures Primer

Ok so, subcultures dont form in a vacuum. They tend to develop as a response to dominant cultures, and often aim to subvert the political and social norms of their time (see 70s punk, the us anti vietnam war movement that gave rise to hippies). They also tend to form in specific geographical locations, usually a city or county, and then spread further out (see the london 00s grime scene that spread through pirate radio stations before reaching mainstream success in the late 00s, 90s grunge forming in seattle and taking aesthetic cues from the clothes that were cheapest and most durable in seattle at the time). The other place alternative scenes tend to crop up is in music (see pretty much every subculture ive previously mentioned, plus goths, emos, mods, ravers, metalheads, northern soul, etc). This is not something I'll be covering about asgard because music history just isnt my area.

The only other thing i really need to mention here is the dilution of subcultures, aka the set aesthetics of a movement being co-opted by people outside that movement and diluting it's original message. While this is a real thing that eventually happens with all movements that have a set aesthetic, im not gonna touch on it here. Because quite honestly thats way too much worldbuilding for one post. You'd be asking me to invent like, all of asgard. In a tumblr post. Im not doing that.

Dominant Asgardian Culture

For asgard in specific, to figure out what the alternative scenes look like, you first have to figure out whats going on in the mainstream. Dominant asgardian culture (for me at least) brings to mind:

War and warrior culture, aka fight and die for asgard and be rewarded with eternal life in paradise, before fighting and dying again at the end of the world. Asgard doesnt have a huge military for nothing

Gold, and the wealth and political power it signifies. The fact that gold is concentrated in the palace at centre of the city is not an accident (gold actually has some really interesting chemical properties, including its inability to rust or degrade over time, it's many uses in scientific equipment, etc. Idk where else to put this, i just think it's really neat that gold doesnt rust, it's eternal, it makes total sense for asgardians to be obsessed with it)

A monarchy and rigid class system (see rigsthula/the high fantasy genre in general)

Extreme technological advancement, and a rise in scientific rationalism. In particular I feel that asgardians would look down upon the other realms, and consider themselves more sophisticated and rational, and less prone to superstition (of course this is merely a belief; how asgardians see themselves is not always reflected in reality).

A general sense of immortality and eternity. Lives stretching out unchanged for thousands of years. The preservation of youth from enchanted golden apples. It's all very reminiscent of an insect trapped in amber, or a city of immortal vampires

Aesthetically, this manifests as

sleek, shiny, very new looking tech, particularly in richer areas of the city. Think silicon valley or high concept supercars

art deco style architecture (whoever on the design team at marvel came up with that i am kissing you on the mouth it's fucking inspired)

gold armor/jewellery/ornamentation on buildings etc. primarily concentrated among the wealthiest citizens and districts

highly decorated buildings (specifically with very neat, clean lines and patterns, controlled curves, very mathematical and scientific designs, almost reminiscent of the art of the islamic golden age, also fucking inspired btw, seriously theres some great design choices in those early movies, like it was genius for the artists to pick architectural influences from great scientific ages throughout history and mix them with traditional viking age motifs and patterns, really great design work i feel like people dont talk about this enough)

The architecture of asgard itself also plays a role in the formation and maintenance of it's cultural norms. The palace is located in the centre of the city, centralising the wealth and power among those who live there, and leaving behind citizens who live further out from the centre.

The immediate areas around the palace would be home to asgards wealthiest families, as well as politicians/diplomats/ambassadors etc. Very wealthy landowners may have private lands here, which they use as gardens, vineyards, or for fancy rich people hobbies like foxhunting and horse riding. There would also be a high military presence in this area due to proximity to the palace.

The areas fairly near the centre would likely be relatively wealthy, and be home to a greater diversity of professions (engineers/doctors/etc). They're likely to contain big cities with big city amenities, such as music halls, universities, more niche and specialist shops, etc. These areas would be densely populated, with modern apartment complexes and a decent transit system.

Further out, more industrial areas would likely start appearing, with larger industrial cities forming particularly close to mountains and forests. More rural areas will start to crop up too, and will consist mostly of farmland and smaller towns.

The outermost edges of the city would likely be mostly port cities, with docks and large fishing communities (asgard is an island after all). Some of these cities would likely see some trade from fishing and beach tourism, but many may also be struggling financially. There may be some small islands off the coast in some areas, with their own small communities largely cut off from the mainland. Whaling would likely be fairly common here, alongside other forms of fishing.

In addition, the bifrost is the only way in and out of asgard, and is only open to a select few, meaning the vast majority of people living in asgard will never step foot outside it. Even some rich asgardians may never leave the realm once in their entire lives. This means that most of asgardian culture would develop mostly in isolation from the other realms, with very little cultural exchange outside of traders and extremely wealthy citizens.

Countercultures: Formation and Aesthetics

Rejection of technology and scientific thinking in favour of the supernatural/wisdom of old/outright cults (see 19th century gothic literature as a reaction to the industrial revolution). Would be expressed as returning to old technology (anything from drop spindles to whatever the asgardian equivalent of cassette tapes is). Potentially this could also give rise to pseudoscientific thinking as a backlash to scientific reasoning. Things like contacting the norns to have them read your fortune, or having your consciousness travel through the branches of yggdrasil, would be fairly common. I can imagine there would be a fair few grifters claiming they can "realign your spirit with the branches of the world tree. For a small fee of course".

Whilst subcultures can form anywhere there's people, they most often tend to form in places with dissatisfaction with cultural and political norms. In asgard, these would be places with little influence over the crown, aka areas far away from the palace that may also be struggling financially. These countercultures could manifest from a variety of things, including:

Anti war and warrior culture. It's likely that, during its long and storied history of wars with the other realms, asgard would have had at least one anti war movement. I reckon it would spring up during a particularly long war that funnelled resources meant for poorer towns on the outskirts of the city, decimating the economy and potentially even creating food shortages. The main focus of the movement would be class related, but may have some more general hippy style anti violence sub-movements.

Rejection of the promise of eternal life in valhalla and by extension a permanent state of self, with a focus on natural processes of death and the cycles of life (i can see so many weird teenagers being told that they'll be feasting in valhalla forever with their high school bullies, and i doubt that would go down well with them, like "fuck that i would rather literally rot in hel than see any of you ever again"). Aesthetically it would include rotting fruit, the life cycles of animals (particularly insects, which violently change forms throughout almost every stage of life), animal and human skeletons, mushrooms growing from dead and rotted trees, scavenging animals that eat corpses, etc. More hardcore members of the scene may develop a fascination with transformation of the self, and use seiđr to alter their bodies (think extreme body mods but with magic).

The sea!! Asgard is an island!! Theres no way they havent tried exploring the oceans surrounding the entire realm. Fear of and fascination with the unknown, combined with proximity to the ocean, would very likely result in a deep love and appreciation of deep sea life, and much speculation of what creatures and monsters might be lurking just out of sight. Almost certainly a couple of small cults will spring up worshipping some ancient sea monster that definitely exists for sure i saw it with my own eyes it was thiiiis big.

Rust. Any asgardian subculture worth its salt is going to reject gold and everything it represents. Rusting discoloured metals with thick patinas and flaking paint will likely crop up alongside every other point in this list.

Anyway this is all a very long winded way of saying that, by asgardian standards, loki isnt actually a goth he's a poser. He's a rich kid that buys £150 'goth style' clothes from ye olde asgardian punk rave but hasnt heard of bauhaus. He doesnt even care about rust.