#Mirror work in dubai

[hoshifighting]

lee chan as your sugar baby!

— WARNINGS: sugar mommy x sugar baby relationship, smut, cock riding, overstimulation, oral (m. receiving). — (Seventeen as Sugar Baby's Series)

chan's fingers hovered over the keyboard, the couch under him squeaking as his friends shifted closer, eyes glued to his screen. the profile had been a joke, a dare born out of a boredom and too many beers. his bio was something ridiculous, like “lee chan, 25. likes dancing, long walks to the fridge, and avoiding adult responsibilities.” he doesn’t think much of it, just another one of those dumb things you do with friends that you forget about the next morning.

so when that notification popped up, he’d been fully ready to shrug it off.

“oh shit, someone actually bit,” seungkwan snorted, elbowing him in the ribs.

“no way,” vernon leaned in closer, practically draping himself over chan’s shoulder. “what, is it a granny looking for a toyboy?”

chan was already smirking, about to type back something half-assed, but then he clicked on the profile.

silence.

“bro…” was all soonyoung managed, voice dropping to something almost reverent.

you stared back at him from the screen, the photo set in dubai. expensive-ass bikini that screamed designer without being obnoxious about it, a pool so clear it could’ve been a goddamn mirror. every photo after that, some crazy tourist spot, one after the other. greece, italy, fucking bali. you were clearly someone who had their shit together, someone who probably had the same watch collection as his entire paycheck for the last year.

chan’s still staring at the screen, fingers hovering over the keyboard. he’s never seen anything like this before. you look like money, smell like money, like that fancy, understated kind of wealth that doesn’t need to brag.

“are you gonna reply or just keep ogling?” seungkwan’s voice snapped him out of it.

he glanced at the message again. just a simple “hi” but now another one had popped up.

“she’s typing again,” someone whispers, and chan snaps out of it, eyes darting back to the chat window.

“you’re real cute in that profile pic,” it read, followed by a winking emoji.

“well, fuck me,” chan muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair. “what the hell do i even say to that?”

“anything but something stupid,” vernon quipped, nudging him.

chan bites his lip, glancing at his friends who are all staring at him like this is the most important conversation of his life. and maybe it kinda is.

his fingers hovered again. you were out of his league in every way that mattered, but here you were, talking to him. and what was he? just some dude who loved dance and cheap beer. but fuck it. he wasn’t about to let that stop him.

“hii! you know, you look even better than all those tourist spots. might have to see for myself sometime...”

“oh my god, dude,” vernon whispered, trying not to laugh too loudly.

“he’s going in!” seungkwan half-yelled, covering his mouth in shock.

chan hit send and immediately regretted it, cheeks burning. “what? too much?”

“nah, man, that’s bold,” soonyoung said, barely containing his grin. “you might’ve just scored.”

seconds felt like hours, everyone staring at the screen, waiting. then, the notification pinged.

“lol, that’s cute,” you replied. “where you living rn?”

chan’s hands shook as he typed back. “seoul. just a humble dancer here. what about you? where you at?”

“imma bet she’s like, in some penthouse in new york or something,” soonyoung guessed.

chan rolled his eyes but waited, heart in his throat, until your next message popped up.

“france atm. here for work.”

“what the fuck?” chan whispered, blinking. “she’s in france? who just casually drops they’re in france?”

“she’s high-class, bro,” vernon chuckled, “better up your game.”

chan swallowed, typing back, “damn, france, huh? that’s far. what kind of work are you into?”

“bet she’s got some crazy job,” soonyoung mused, leaning in closer.

your reply came quicker this time. “i’m a director at a company. lots of traveling, lots of meetings, but it’s worth it.”

“right?” chan exhaled, trying to play it cool. “guess i better brush up on my french. so, when are you back in seoul?”

“soon,” you replied. “might need a tour guide when i get there. you up for the job?”

chan felt his heart skip a beat. “hell yeah, i’m up for it. i’ll make sure you see all the best spots.”

“even better if one of those spots is your place,” you teased.

his friends erupted into laughter, nearly falling off the couch as chan’s face turned beet red. “fuck… she’s smooth,” he mumbled, grinning despite himself.

“she’s gonna eat you alive, and you’re gonna love it,” vernon teased, leaning back into the couch, grinning ear to ear.

days passed, and his friends kept throwing out jokes, but none of them actually thought he’d go through with meeting you. it was supposed to be a dare, a laugh, nothing serious. but there chan was, pulling on the finest clothes he owned, trying to look like he belonged next to someone like you. black slacks, a crisp white shirt, the kind of fit that made him feel like maybe he could pass for someone with a little more class, some nice pants, and his best pair of shoes. it wasn’t designer, but it was the best he could do.

he paced in front of his apartment building, checking his phone every two seconds. his palms were already sweating, and his heart raced in his chest like it was trying to break free.

then, he saw it—a sleek black porsche 911 pulling up to the curb, the engine purring like a panther. “no fucking way,” he whispered to himself as the door opened and you stepped out, removing your sunglasses with a casual flick of your wrist. your gaze locking onto his. you were the picture of luxury, the kind of woman who had her shit together and didn’t let anyone forget it.

chan swallowed hard, his confidence from your messages feeling a little shaky now that you were right in front of him. “uh, hey,” he managed, running a hand through his hair.

you smiled, a slow, knowing curve of your lips as you approached him. “nice to finally meet you, chan,” you said, your voice smooth, like you were used to making people feel a little off-kilter.

“y-yeah, you too,” he stammered, trying to hold it together. “you look... wow.”

“thanks,” you replied, glancing at his outfit. “you clean up pretty well yourself.”

he chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “figured i should try to look the part.”

you gave him an appraising look before tilting your head towards the car. “so, you know how to drive?”

he blinked, caught off guard. “uh, yeah, of course.”

“good,” you said, tossing the keys his way. he barely caught them, fumbling a bit as he did. “why don’t you take us for a spin, then?”

“you want me to drive that?” chan asked, glancing back at the porsche, his nerves doubling.

you nodded, a glint in your eye. “you got it, pretty boy. show me what you can do.”

chan’s heart thudded in his chest as he walked over to the car, his hands still a little shaky as he slid into the driver’s seat. the leather was soft under his fingers, the kind of luxury he wasn’t used to, but damn if he didn’t feel like a king behind that wheel.

he started the engine, the car rumbling to life, and glanced over at you. you were watching him, your expression amused but with a hint of something else, something that made him feel like this was more than just a ride.

“so, where to first?” he asked, gripping the wheel a little tighter.

“how about we start with wherever you usually hang out?” you suggested, settling into the seat, your gaze flicking to him. “i want to see the city through your eyes.”

chan nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. “okay, i can do that.”

chan had never felt so out of his element, yet so at ease. he’d taken you through his world, showing you his favorite spots around the city—the dance studio where he spent countless hours perfecting his moves, a little-known art exhibition that he’d insisted on paying for, despite your amused protests. now, the two of you strolled through a quiet park, the late afternoon sun casting a warm, golden glow over everything.

as you walked, chan led you to a secluded spot where an old statue stood, slightly weathered but still striking. it was a simple piece, a couple entwined in an embrace, their lips inches apart, forever captured in a moment of almost-kissing.

“so, this statue,” chan started, his voice a little softer now. “there’s this legend that if you kiss someone here, you’re supposed to stay together forever. something about how the artist sculpted it after he lost his wife. he wanted to capture their last moment together, just before they kissed, so they could be like that forever.”

you stopped, staring at the statue, then glanced at him with a knowing smile. “and here i thought you were just a dancer. didn’t know you were into old romantic tales, too.”

he shrugged, a bit bashful. “yeah, well, this place is special. it’s got a vibe, you know?”

“i know,” you replied, stepping closer to the statue, your hand brushing over its surface. “i’ve actually been here before. in fact, i’ve been to every place you showed me today.”

chan’s eyes widened in surprise, a mix of shock and curiosity flooding his expression. “wait, you did? why didn’t you say anything?”

you turned to face him, your gaze locking onto his. “i just wanted to spend time with you. i wanted to see how you experience these places, what they mean to you.”

“that’s… actually pretty sweet.”

you nodded, stepping closer until you were right in front of him, your body almost brushing against his. “you think so?”

for a moment, neither of you spoke, the world around you fading into the background. chan could feel the words hanging between you like a challenge and an invitation all at once.

“well,” he said, his voice dropping to a near whisper, “there’s still one thing we haven’t done yet.”

“what’s that?” you asked, your voice equally soft, a teasing edge to it.

chan didn’t answer with words. instead, he slowly closed the distance between you, his hands gently resting on your hips. you could feel the tension in his muscles, the way he was holding back, not wanting to rush, but there was no mistaking the want in his eyes.

and then he kissed you.

it started slow, like he was savoring the first taste. his lips were soft against yours, but there was a firmness in the way he held you. the kiss deepened, his hands sliding up your sides, feeling the smooth, expensive fabric of your dress under his fingertips. it was like touching pure luxury, and it made his heart race even faster.

you responded in kind, your hands sliding over his chest, feeling the hard planes of his muscles beneath his shirt. he was strong, solid, and the contrast between his ruggedness and your refinement sent a thrill through you. you pressed closer, feeling the heat of his body, the way his breath mingled with yours.

he pulled you even closer, his hands now fully around your waist, one sliding up your back as if trying to memorize every inch of you. there was nothing between you and the world but this kiss, this moment, where time seemed to stretch and bend around the two of you.

the kiss was everything—soft and sweet, yet desperate and consuming, like neither of you wanted it to end. his scent surrounded you, a combination of something clean and musky, grounding you even as the kiss made you feel like you were floating.

you pulled back slightly, your lips lingering close to his. you could still feel the ghost of his kiss on your mouth.

chan’s apartment is exactly what you imagined—small, cozy, clean, and it smells like fresh laundry mixed with something musky that’s all him. it’s simple, a little too bare maybe, but there’s something comforting about it. like it’s a place where he can just be himself.

“it’s not much,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck as he leads you inside. “definitely not what you’re used to. not fancy or anything, but… it’s home.”

you smile at him, stepping further into the living room. “i like it,” you say, and you mean it. it’s a place that feels real, lived-in, and right now, it’s exactly where you want to be.

chan watches you carefully, like he’s trying to gauge your reaction, but when he sees the smile on your face, some of that tension leaves his shoulders. he looks at you, a little nervous, but you can see the desire underneath, the way he’s holding himself back.

“so,” you say, stepping closer to him, letting your body brush against his. he’s solid, all hard muscle and pent-up energy, and you can feel the heat radiating off him. “you gonna give me the full tour?”

his breath hitches when you press against him, your lips so close to his that he can practically taste you already. “uh, yeah,” he says, his voice low and a little rough. “i mean, it’s not a big place or anything, but…”

you don’t let him finish. instead, you lick his lips with the tip of your tongue, just a quick, teasing flick that has him groaning almost immediately. his hands twitch at his sides, like he’s not sure if he’s allowed to touch you yet.

“chan,” you murmur, your lips ghosting over his. “why don’t you show me the whole place?”

his eyes darken, his hands finally coming up to grip your waist, pulling you flush against him. “you mean… like, now?”

“now,” you confirm, giving him a slow, sultry smile. “and maybe we can start with the bedroom.”

chan doesn’t need to be told twice. he practically drags you down the short hallway, your laughter echoing off the walls as he fumbles with the door. the second you’re inside, his hands are on you, pulling you close, kissing you like he’s been waiting forever to do it.

you push him back toward the bed, feeling the mattress hit the back of your legs as you fall onto it together. chan’s kisses are hungry, almost desperate, and you can feel him trembling slightly, the anticipation building between you.

“fuck, you’re so hot,” he mutters against your lips, his hands sliding under your shirt, feeling the soft skin beneath.

you smirk, running your hands down his chest, feeling the hard lines of his muscles. “you’re not so bad yourself,” you tease, slipping your hand lower, brushing over the bulge in his jeans.

chan’s breath catches in his throat, his hips bucking up into your touch. “shit,” he groans, his head falling back as you palm him through the fabric.

you undo his jeans, sliding them down just enough to free his cock, and you hear the sharp intake of breath he takes as the cool air hits him. he’s already rock hard, thick and pulsing in your hand, and when you lean down to take him into your mouth, the sound he makes is nothing short of pathetic.

“fuck, oh fuck,” he moans, his hands gripping the sheets so tight his knuckles turn white. “shit, your mouth… feels so good.”

you hum around him, swirling your tongue over the tip, tasting the salty bead of precum there. chan’s hips jerk involuntarily, and you can feel how desperate he is, how much he’s holding back. you start moving your mouth up and down his length, taking him deeper each time, and the way he’s losing his mind over it is almost enough to make you lose control.

“i… i can’t—” chan gasps, his voice shaking as he tries to hold on. “i’m gonna… fuck, i’m gonna cum.”

you don’t stop, sucking harder, taking him all the way to the back of your throat. chan’s moans are getting louder, more broken, and you can feel his cock throbbing, his whole body tensing up as he gets closer and closer.

“fuck, i’m cumming, i’m—” he chokes out, his hips bucking up as he spills into your mouth. his whole body shakes, his moans turning into desperate, breathless gasps as he rides out the high, his fingers digging into the sheets like he’s afraid he’ll float away.

you don’t let up, even as he starts to soften in your mouth, your tongue teasing him, milking every last drop out of him. chan’s breath comes in ragged pants, his body twitching uncontrollably as you keep going.

“s-stop,” he pleads, his voice hoarse, almost broken. “too much… can’t…”

you pull back, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you crawl up his body. “too much?” you ask, your voice full of teasing. “we’re just getting started.”

chan barely has time to process that before you’re straddling him, your body pressing down onto his still sensitive cock. he gasps, his hands flying to your hips, but he’s too overwhelmed to do anything more than hold on as you start moving.

“fuck, fuck, i can’t,” he whimpers, his head falling back against the pillows, his eyes screwed shut. “i can’t, it’s too much.”

“you can take it,” you murmur, leaning down to kiss him, your hands sliding up his chest. “just relax, let me take care of you.”

chan groans, his hips bucking up into you even though every nerve in his body is screaming at him to stop. the overstimulation is driving him insane, every touch of your body, every movement making him tremble, his hands gripping the pillow like it’s his lifeline. he’s never felt anything like this before, never thought he could feel this good and this overwhelmed at the same time.

you can feel him trembling beneath you, his whole body tense with the effort of holding on. it’s almost too much for him, but you don’t stop, not yet. you want to push him just a little further, want to see how far you can take him.

chan brought out something in you that you hadn’t felt in years. it wasn’t just the excitement of being with someone young and full of life—it was how he made you feel, like every moment with him was a break from the weight of the world. he had this way of dragging you out of your high-stress life and dropping you into something simple, fun, and completely unpretentious.

like that time he took you to the amusement park. you hadn’t been to one in ages, but there you were, screaming your lungs out on roller coasters, laughing so hard you thought you’d cry, and holding his hand through it all. it wasn’t fancy, wasn’t anything like the high-end places you usually found yourself in, but it was exactly what you needed. chan made you feel alive in a way you’d forgotten was possible.

then there were the movie dates, sitting in those darkened theaters with him, your feet up on the seat in front of you like a couple of carefree kids. he’d always pick the cheesiest movies, and you’d groan, but somehow, they ended up being exactly what you needed. you loved watching his face light up during the action scenes or how he’d lean in close to whisper jokes in your ear, making you laugh so much you’d miss half the movie.

but it wasn’t just the dates. it was the little things. like when he’d have one of his fashion shows for you, parading around your massive living room in the new clothes you’d gotten him. the way he’d strike ridiculous poses, just to make you smile, or how his face would light up when you genuinely praised him, making him feel like he was on top of the world.

and you loved being by his side when his friends came over. they had this infectious energy, pulling you into their world effortlessly. you even found yourself spoiling them now and then, slipping one of them some cash or buying them a round of drinks, because they took care of chan so well, and you appreciated that more than you could say.

chan balanced you in a way that was almost scary. no matter how tired you were after a long day at work, he was your constant source of energy, always there, always ready to make you feel better. you’d stop by some luxury brand store on the way home, picking up a few things for him because you knew he’d love it, and because it made you happy to spoil him a little.

you knew that when you walked through the door, he’d be there, waiting for you. sometimes, he’d pull you into bed, his arms wrapped around you as he coaxed you to sleep, whispering sweet nothings in your ear until you drifted off. other times, he’d be more playful, those dancer’s hips of his working magic as he eased the stress out of your body in ways that made you forget all about the bullshit of the day.

“missed you,” he’d murmur, his voice husky and full of affection as he pressed a kiss to your neck.

“missed you too,” you’d reply, your hands finding their way to his hips, pulling him closer. “you always know how to make everything better.”

and it was true. chan wasn’t just a breath of fresh air—he was your escape, your balance, the thing that made everything else worth it.

[alienpossession]

Another continuation of the Dubai alien series

The model-bodybuilder Sander woke up from his proper sleep feeling refreshed. He opened the curtain to let the sunshine in as he walked around his apartment with no clothes whatsoever. After quick stretching session and several minutes of posing in the mirror, he walked past his sleeping bodyguard. He got the bodyguard as part of the scheme he worked on with the Prince as the alien that is now residing inside Sander has too close of an attachment with this particular bodyguard back when he was still a Prince, so he asked the new Prince to allow the bodyguard to be working for him still.

Sander wakes the bodyguard up, and with no hesitation, the fresh-from-slumber bodyguard quickly kneel and started kissing Sander's pubes. His tongue quickly explored the bushy and musky hair of his beloved Master before gently gliding across the veinous shaft of the bodybuilding powerhouse. Sander grunted in approval as his half-chubbed up cock started to snake into its full length, the tip emerged from the foreskin as it revealed its massive mushroom-head form that the bodyguard quickly serviced with his slick tongue. When he eventually made the move to let the 7.5 inches girthy monstrosity entered his mouth, Sander lost in euphoria as he grabbed the head of the bodyguard and jackhammered his cock deep into his throat. The majestic payload quickly released in the matter of minutes, making the devout bodyguard's throat slick with cum and his face looking like he's some kind of cum-guzzling twink when he is in fact a highly-trained martial artist and marksman that would never kneel to anyone, let alone allowing his face painted with sticky, salty cum. Satisfied, Sander gently tapped the bodyguard's face and then give him one big kiss before heading to the shower to clean himself

Sander of course didn't shower and instead basked in his glorious reflection and musky body odour.

He's going to the gym anyway so he can just shower later after his workout, so with no effort to clean himself thoroughly, he just wiped away some of the drying cum all over his body before donning his workout clothes

When he arrived at the gym, he started to put on the work, putting his muscle under so much stress, the veins started to pop and his grunts become increasingly louder as he racked up more weights and intensity to all his routine. As he just finished with hitting his personal best deadlift and decided to call it a day, he returned the massive weights to the rack and that's when his eyes caught on the two young studs he has not yet converted.

Newcomer? Tourist? Yeah, seemed like a fine looking pair of fit tourists. Based on the language spoken, these tourists came from Turkey but the way they talked, there's that unmistakably Germanic tonality to it, so....Turkish diaspora living in Germany then? Well, no need to guess, he will find out by himself when he shoves the slugs later to takeover their young brain.

So, what is the Prince really up to while his operatives worked to convert people left and right?

Prince Rashid, the eldest son of the local mid-level nobility, is looking at the alien as its tail-end finally slithered inside and left no traces behind. Then, he gently closed his tanktop back and smirked

"It's good to be back,"

The younger prince, who was practically responsible for the mass takeover of his own family, hugged his older brother as he then handed him his thobe to cover him more in-line with what an Emirati nobility should wear

"Good to have you with me here. Thanks for the fun night, it's been a while since we bonded, don't you think?"

"Will do anything for my younger bro. So, you will take care of them and all the clean-up?"

"Yeah, watch,"

The 9 Insta-hotties the young Prince called for the night suddenly wake up from their sleep and started to stand up as if they were some military recruits or something with their posture all straight and stiff. All this happened despite the fact that they were asleep soundly just mere seconds ago.

"Go clean up the apartment, whores. After that, get the fuck off from here and maybe start being useful and start marking all the men you all deemed worthy of my attention, understand?"

"Yes, my prince," all of them said in unison, their brain already fried by the slug and turned into bunch of bimbo puppets. Prince Rashid just laughed out loud

"Amazing, my Prince. Very amazing. I wish you would be generous enough one day to use my body to give such command, you know I'm more brutal than my younger brother. I'm quite the abusive jerk, even to my harem, let alone European whores like them,"

"Well, respectfully, I'm not really into all that. Besides, what's the point of you being all mighty and aggressive when you cannot even defend yourself by the end and turned into mere puppets anyway? Go get back home to your wife and kids before I humiliate you further, I don't want to see you anymore tonight," the tone of the young Prince quickly turned sharp with anger as he felt like his own subject dared to question his power and how far he could take things

The possessed Prince Rashid tried to be playful as he lightly punched the young prince on his shoulder while saying

"That's not how a younger brother addre---"

"Just get the fuck out before I make you soil your clothes with gallons of cum till your balls dry, I'm not in the mood for jokes," threatened the main alien using its real, coarsed voice. The older prince quickly retreated himself out from the penthouse in fear of triggering his progenitor's anger, while the younger prince sighed, feeling like in need of a new learning adventure and a form that will be more respected or provided him with excitement and thrilling life choices. That's when he remembered about the intel he already asked for Steven Barnett and all the preparation in regards to his takeover. Yup, that sounds hella tasty, slipping inside the son-in-law of an active General with strategic position in the United States? Maybe it's about time he executed the transference, it's been almost 2 weeks that Steven and his wife spent their time here, it wouldn't be too long before his return to the states. Looking at his phone, 5:44 AM, there's definitely still enough time for him to make the move right around this morning. But, it means he should really share the directives to the puppets all at once, the Prince cannot risk Steven to be able to get away from this. As the Prince stretched his body, he then sits down and decided to concentrate and pulling all the available memories from all the puppets that could be useful for the plan to succeed

As expected, Steven walked into the trap set-up by the aliens as he went to the gym recommended by them, not knowing it's basically a hub for puppets

The gym is surprisingly quiet despite the fact that it's morning in the weekend, but Steven is definitely not complaining. In fact, it makes the whole thing so much easier for him as he spent all his time to workout and not wasting time with some small talks with his friends. Yes he can comfortably called them friends, but it's not always fun to always have this sense of obligation to talk to them or mingle with them when the focus is supposedly the workout, so the quietness is a welcome change, especially noting the fact that he's about to go back home to the States very early in the morning

8.50 AM and the gym is still hella empty, except a few people that he never met previously. Probably some infrequent gymgoer judging from their body shapes, but hey, it's not like he needed to judge them. After putting all the weights back to its rack, he strutted to the locker room and started stripping. He kicked off his rank, size 15 shoes away to reveal a very sweaty socked feet, which he also quickly took off and tossed to the corner of the locker room. He scrunched up his nose, he should grab that foot spray he saw yesterday in the supermarket later before heading back to the hotel. Then, he stuffed his drenched tanktop that clung to his massive body and the sweat-soaked sweatpants to his duffel bag, only leaving his sweaty underwear on as he decided to cool down a bit while doing some posing practices

Enamored by the ripple of his own muscles and the music he blasted, Steven didn't realize the swarm of men that carefully entered the locker room, led by Craig and Olly. Steven practically posed in the far-end corner of the massive gym locker room and the rows of lockers blocked his view and hearing until it's too late.

Olly was the first that made the move as his sudden appearance slightly surprised Steven. The young blondie quickly apologized and acted normally as if he just arrived for a workout while complimenting Steven's pumped physique. Then, things take a wild turn when Olly decided to say that he wanted to get a taste of Steven's sweaty ass. That surprised Steven even more as he chuckled it off trying to pass it as some crude jokes, but when Olly literally stared at him like he's some kind of prey, Steven quickly reacted with anger on how he would never swing that way and he's not gonna let any man get close to his ass or dick! To his surprise, Craig, Olly's stepbrother, grabbed Steven's ass from behind which caused the much-bigger Steven to yelp in surprise. That's when Olly marched on as his stepbrother tried to held Steven's hand. Steven fought off the two brothers and even managed to slam Olly to one of the locker before trying to make his escape. But the severity of the situation and the dawning realization that he wouldn't be able to get away from here quickly engulfed him when he's faced with the reality as swarm of fit bodybuilders and gymgoers blocking his way from both ends. He tried to reason with them, asking them to let him go and start thinking rationally, but all effort went futile as their mission were clear, to convert him per the direction of the Prince.

"Convert me to what? Islam? Fuck, are you kidding me? All this just because of some religious fanaticism?"

One of them then said

"Oh no, Steven, it's better than that,"

Alarm bells quickly rang inside Steven's mind when all the men that surrounded him smirked devilishly as they opened their mouth and then spit out some gooey black slug from their mouth to their hands. As Steven's started screaming for help, all the men tried to muffle his mouth as they thrown and even shoved the slimy black slug down Steven's throat. His scream quickly drowned by the loud cheers of men that witnessed all the slug entered Steven's body from his mouth, nose and ears and quickly trembled as the alien seized control of his brain. But, the men quickly moved over as the Prince tried to approach the convulsing Steven. He already arrived at the gym and simply cannot wait to transfer. As the Prince retched out copious amount of black slug, the one that entered Steven's whole system earlier also moved out from his body as it did its purpose already to paralyze Steven temporarily. The slugs returned back to their respective bodies while the Prince slug slithered through Steven's gaped mouth and flared nostrils. After another seizure as the slug established control over his brain, Steven opened his eyes a brand new man

--

Add: I think this sort of act as a closure for this particular story. But if there's anything you wanted me to whip out, like more stories on Mike, or any of the characters, hit me up and maybe I can make some spin-off or something, but only if anyone is interested

[octuscle]

Expats

Gabriel was quite a freeloader. Of course he didn't come to Dubai as an expat because he was stupid or lazy. But he also knew pretty well that he would have had a much harder time in France affording the life he could afford here. Life in Dubai was luxury, pure luxury. He had a cool house with a pool, a gardener, a housekeeper and a chauffeur, and he earned a huge amount of money. He didn't necessarily work nine to five, but he didn't necessarily work himself to death either. In short, for him, life here was pure paradise!

Gabriel had heard the news that the climate had turned a little against the privileges of expats. But he wasn't interested in it. He would do his job here, he was saving a lot of money, which was safely invested in Switzerland, if necessary, he would be on the plane back to Paris tomorrow and look for a job in Riyadh or Kuwait. The United Arab Emirates were not the only place on this planet where he could make money. And besides, he didn't really care about it today. It was Saturday. Tomorrow he would have to sit in the office again, today he wanted to work out at the gym and then hang out with a few friends at the beach club for the rest of the day. A few cocktails, lobster for dinner and then to bed. The only problem was: his driver had the day off. And even though Gabriel had been living in Dubai for several years, he couldn't drive a car himself! He had forgotten how. That's why there were drivers. So he ordered a taxi.

The porter at his community had announced the driver. Gabriel took his sports bag. A quick check in the mirror: yes, he looked good. He opened the door. The brand new Toyota taxi was parked in front of the door. The driver got out and asked in English if Gabriel wanted to put the sports bag in the boot. Gabriel barely looked up from his phone and just shook his head. He didn't feel like having any more contact with the driver than absolutely necessary. The driver opened the back door for him, Gabriel got in, repeated his destination once more and continued playing with his cell phone. The driver remained quiet at first. But then he started talking. First in English. About the weather, about football, where Gabriel came from, whether he liked Dubai. Gabriel simply didn't react. The driver just kept talking. That he had fled from Syria. That he had been in Dubai for four years. That he had two children. He showed Gabriel pictures in his wallet. His English became more and more incomprehensible. A mixture of English and Arabic. Gabriel continued to pretend to be deaf. The driver kept talking. In Arabic. He was ranting about the expats. About the arrogance of the infidels, who thought they were better than everyone else, even though they were dependent on the mercy of Allah, who had given the Muslims oil.

Gabriel was annoyed. He wanted to work on a few e-mails and not talk about politics. What did he care about politics? So he snapped at the driver, "Rakkiz 'ala al-siyaqa, ana mashghul!" The driver smiled. He looked in the rear-view mirror. God's plan was working.

The taxi driver's language began to change again. Arabic with a French accent. Gabriel sat in the back on the worn imitation leather seats of the old taxi. In the front, Ayoub couldn't stop getting worked up about the last few games of Olympic Marseille. Djibril grinned. He knew the feeling. When Ayoub was in a rage, he was in a rage. Fortunately, they were almost at the wholesale market, then his brother would let him out. Ayoub would drive his shift to an end. And Djibril would see what kind of job he could get. He and his pals ironically called themselves the expats. It was true in a way�� His brother and he had immigrated from Morocco ten years ago. They had family in Marseille. Djibril had really tried hard at school, but at some point he stopped going and started working as a day laborer at the wholesale market. He was doing well. By now, Djibril had his network, he knew his way around. And he was strong and fast. He saved what he earned. He was proud of his brother Ayoub, who made it to get a taxi license and his own taxi, which was also Djibril's goal.

He checked his messages. It was still dawn. Ayoub was on his way to the banlieue to sleep. It was good when he drove the night shift, then he and Djibril didn't have to share the small bedroom. So far, no one had contacted him to request Djibril's services. If necessary, he could help out in his aunt's café in the kitchen. There was no money for that, though. But a café and a lunch. Life as an expat wasn't so bad.

[theragethatisdesire]

"nel bene e nel male" - eren x reader, 18+!!!

i have several other wips working right now but i fell in love with the "ti penso" universe so i wanted to follow this eren x reader a little further down the road. i wouldn't call it a series but....i love them. this is from eren's pov, so we get to see how he thinks of reader, their relationship, etc. and it was SO fun to get in his head. i love ti penso eren sm and he's adorable, so i hope u guys like this one as much as the last!

pairing: eren x afab!reader

wc: 4.8k

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.

CWs: smut (duh), knife (not in a sexual way like a cooking way bu still), consensual hook-up, established relationship, unprotected sex, rough sex, biting, dirty talk, oral sex (fem!receiving) penetrative vaginal sex, swearing, use of names (baby), crying, cheating (don't worry it's a trick), multiple orgasm, creampie, aftercare, eren being a nervous wreck

title means "for better or for worse" in italian i LOVE these two mwah xxxx

Eren isn’t really a middle-ground kind of guy. The world’s black and white the way he sees it, so he either loves something, or he hates it. He hates the soreness settling in his bones, loves seeing the familiar city lights again after the last few days.

He’s been in Dubai on business this week; loved the food, hated his hotel room, loved the locals, hated the plane ride, and while the loves outweighed the hates enough to make the trip great, it didn’t compare to what was waiting for him in New York. Eren’s fortunate enough to be coming home to a little slice of his own personal heaven, ready to open his apartment door to find you in his favorite position: wearing one of his old t-shirts, snuggled up on the couch, reading if he had to put money on it. Maybe he’ll get lucky, and you’ll be cooking. God, he’s so sick of hotel food and airport food he could cry. 

In the elevator, sliding up through the building to the seventy-first floor, he gets a rush of elation at the familiarity of it all. He studies the mirrored wall, smirking to himself when the memory of him pressing you against it, two fingers deep in you, surfaces. That’s something else he loves: unraveling you where someone could see, watching how flustered you get. Eren’s first order of business, he decides, is to shower. His second order of business will be to bury himself between your legs: cock, face, fingers, whatever you prefer. He’s feeling generous and homesick.

The smell of garlic and oil hits his nose when he opens the door; Eren has to bite back a groan. After Ymir and Historia’s wedding, you two developed a bit of a love affair with Italy, and had returned enough times for you to master the cuisine. Italian food now reminds him of you, of that first indulgence in years against the wall of his villa apartment, and his legs nearly buckle at the sensation of it all.

“Missed you.” Your back is to him when he ambles into the kitchen, cutting tomatoes, so he settles for pressing himself up against your back, cradling your hips in his hands. Your little sleep shorts rub against his crotch, and Eren hopes he has the willpower to at least make it through dinner without tearing you open.

“Mm,” you hum noncommittally, letting him grope you. Eren frowns into your hair; that wasn’t exactly the enthusiastic welcome he was expecting.

“You okay?”

“Fine,” you shrug. He peeks around your shoulder; your cheeks are wet.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Eren grabs your shoulders and turns you to face him. When he recognizes the look in your eyes, he almost wishes he hadn’t.

When you’re angry, you shout, you cry a little, normal stuff. When you’re really angry, you’re cold. The look in your eyes tells him he’s done something very bad, a look of icy apathy, disinterest. He hasn’t seen it since you left him on the sidewalk outside of your last apartment together, before Italy, before the last two years of domestic bliss he’s enjoyed with you amidst your crazy work schedules. Eren’s heart drops to his stomach.

“Baby…”

“Who’s Anna?”

Your question nearly knocks him on his ass. He’s vaguely aware that his face must show that feeling, making him look more suspicious than he really is. How the fuck is he supposed to explain Anna without ratting on himself?

“Who?” Idiot, Eren thinks to himself. Who? is never the right question when your girlfriend asks about another woman in your life, Eren knows that by now. The pure shock has turned the sensical part of his brain off.

“Who,” you repeat, scoffing and turning back to your cooking.

Very aware that you have a knife, Eren rounds the counter so he can see you, monitor that look in your eyes while also putting some space between himself and the nine-inch blade in your right hand. “I know it sounds cliche, but it’s not what it–”

“Looks like?” You cut him off, eyes down towards the cutting board. “I’m sure the nine zoom calls I found on your personal laptop are nothing, nothing at all.”

Eren swallows, thick around the lump in his throat. He should have had his fucking assistant do this, he thinks, shouldn’t have been so picky with everything, but it was something so special, so personal, he couldn’t bring himself to ask for help. Hell, he hadn’t even told Armin and Mikasa yet.

“She sent you a very vague email, but I’m sure you’ll get the message. She said she has some ‘really special’ things picked out for you, if you missed it,” your gaze finally meets his, chilling him to the bone and boring into his very soul, “La Perla or Agent Provocateur? You’ve always preferred the Perla, but–”

“It’s nothing like that,” Eren mumbles, twitching where he stands. “I’d never cheat on you, you know that.”

“I’m sure,” a mirthless laugh slips from your pretty lips. Eren wants to cry; if only you knew, if only he could bring himself to tell you, but that would ruin the point of it. If you’d just understand– “My bags are packed either way. Booked a flight to London, too. I’ve always wanted to live there.”

Eren’s heart drops further from its tight pit in his stomach; it’s surely fallen out of his ass onto the floor now. “Bags? Baby, no, just let me exp–”

“Let you what?” Here’s your anger, refreshed and fiery in your eyes, rearing its head. Eren balks.

“Well, I– I can’t really explain, but if you just trust me…”

“Trust you? I did trust you, all the way back in Italy!” Your voice cracks at the same time as Eren’s heart. “I took a chance on you, and you fucked me. Do you remember how afraid I was to dive back into you again? And look where it fucking got me.”

Another furious, disbelieving chuckle. Eren hates that laugh, hates it so much he can feel his skin prickle. Against his better judgment, he scowls.

“You actually think I’m cheating on you? When the fuck would I even have time?”

“Is she from Stockholm? Paris? Skinny bitch from LA, maybe? You spend an awful lot of time on the go,” you hiss. Eren rolls his eyes.

“I fucking love you! You’ve never been able to get that through your thick-ass skull,” his voice is getting louder, but he can’t stop himself. If he was thinking rationally, he knew he could make you understand, but he’s not thinking rationally. Eight days of jet lag and work are catching up to him, and his temper leaps out ahead of his words.

“Well, I hope Anna does. I hope you love her, and I hope she fucks you good,” you sniffle, another hot rush of angry tears streaming down your face. Eren hates that too; can still feel the visceral pumping of his heart where it’s sitting discarded on the floor.

“She doesn’t love me,” he grits out, “and she definitely doesn’t fuck me.”

“Well yeah, I’d assume you fuck her,” you snap, chopping into a tomato furiously. Maybe it’s your tone, maybe it’s the tears, the finality in the chopping, he doesn’t have time to acknowledge what breaks something in him, but he feels it tear into two. He can’t stop himself.

“She a fucking ring designer,” he nearly shouts, hearing the cabinets rattle from the timbre of his voice, “a ring designer from Tiffany. That’s who Anna is.”

He’s hardly even aware that the words have left his mouth until he sees your reaction. Everything in your body tenses, your hand clenches down tight around the knife. Your mouth– Eren can’t help but sigh inwardly at your perfect little mouth– drops slightly ajar, the tears themselves seem to freeze where they’re rolling down your cheeks.

“A…what?”

Eren’s defeated now, and his sigh shows it. He rubs a hand over the back of his neck, not feeling any better now that he’s been forced to ruin his own surprise. “Didn’t want to tell you this way, but yeah.”

“Like, a…”

“An engagement ring designer,” Eren says quietly, barely able to force the words out. Sure, he may have solved the initial issue of his nonexistent cheating, but now he has your commitment issues to work with. His breath is lodged firmly in his throat and not a sound passes between you two. He can see the gears in your head turning, brow furrowed in concentration as you try to think through your feelings.

Ordinarily, Eren loves that look, thinks it’s so sexy how your forehead wrinkles, your tongue darting out between your teeth while you write or do your morning crossword. Now, he’s watching you with that look on your face, not able to breathe, feel, or even think.

The hesitation is setting in, panic gripping him. What was he thinking, proposing to you? You hate to be tied down, married to your work. He’s hurt you so many times; God knows it was an uphill battle just getting you to let him love you again. You’re a flighty, easily-frightened creature, but he does what he can to keep you with him, keep you as happy as he can. He lives and breathes you, doesn’t know if he would survive you leaving him again.

He couldn’t help himself, though, never could when it came to you. For years he’s been needing more, more touching you, more fucking you, more loving you. This is just that in a new sense: seeing if he just could get the right ring, make the right plan to keep you forever. He’d never admit it, but he’d even gotten hard at the thought of you wearing his ring day in and day out for the rest of your life. He couldn’t resist making you his wife, his life partner, putting his babies in you–

Eren pockets that thought as soon as it crosses his mind; now is not the time for an erection. He knows you inside and out, knows how your chest rises and falls while you sleep and has the scent of your shampoo burned into his olfactory nerves for the rest of his life, but you manage to surprise him, just this once.

A small smile toys at your mouth. “An engagement ring designer?”

Eren’s chest decompresses so violently he thinks he might pass out. “Yeah. I was thinking–”

“About proposing? You’re serious?” Your face is still puffy and wet, but the grin growing on your face is worth everything Eren could ever think to own, eyes practically glowing.

“God, of course I’m serious,” Eren rasps, the air gone from his lungs, “fuckin’ love you. I’ve wanted this since the day I met you, how do you not know that by now?”

“Are you like…” you trail off, looking meaningfully at him, then the floor. Is he proposing?

Eren doesn’t even know if he is, brain foggy after the whirlwind ten minutes that’s just gone by. A lifetime with you flashes behind his eyes: a beautiful wedding, definitely in Italy, signing the papers and buying a home together, filling it with as many curly-haired babies as you’ll give him. When Eren comes back to reality, his body’s moved without consulting him, and he’s on his knees, holding your thighs– God, your perfect thighs– in his hands. He’s fairly sure he’s supposed to just be on one knee, but he doesn’t care; he’s not asking, he’s begging.

“Yeah– fuck, I think I am,” Eren laughs at himself, breathless, “I am.”

“Oh my God,” your hands are over your mouth, holding in the wet little hiccups shaking your frame, “oh my God, you are.”

And right there, all of Eren’s anxiety melts off of his body in a clean sheathe. Looking up at you, the fresh tears welling in those beautiful eyes that turn him to putty whenever you need to, he’s sure. Even if you say no– which now, he doesn’t think you will– he has to try. He owes you that, all of himself.

“You know I love you, I– I live for you. Want you to be mine, forever. Will you have me?” Eren’s voice has a waver to it, bending and wobbling under all of his emotions. The slightest inclination of your head gives way to an excited nod, and Eren practically leaps to his feet, grabbing you around the waist and spinning you, just like a movie.

“Eren, ow– s’tight,” you giggle, wheezing in his grip.

“Can you blame me?” Eren laughs back, feeling like a child instead of a full-grown man who just made the biggest commitment of his life, but as painful as it is to release his grip, he sets you down. “You're fucking serious? You’ll really marry me?”

“Yeah,” you grin, “yeah, I’ll marry you. You better get me a big-ass rock, though.”

“I’ll get you the biggest one in the world, spend every dime I have,” he says, and you’re in his arms again, legs wrapped around his waist and arms thrown around his neck, his face might burst, “you can show it off to all your friends, show ‘em just how much I love you.”

“Oh, Eren,” you trail off, kissing him in lieu of words. Eren doesn’t think your lips have ever been so sweet against his, doesn’t think he’s ever been so hungry for your body.

He’s got the path to your bedroom memorized, especially under his current condition: wrapped up in a tangle of limbs, stumbling clumsily and desperately trying not to lose his footing as you kiss your way down his neck. A low groan rumbles in his chest as he fumbles with the knob, throws the door open, practically tackles you onto the plush bed. Eren doesn’t even care that he stinks like plane and airport and travel; the scent of you envelops him.

“Love you so fuckin’ much, baby,” he mutters offhandedly against your collarbone, pausing from the bruise he’s sucking into the skin, “now you’re all mine, forever.”

“Forever,” you agree, chest heaving beneath him. Eren makes quick work of the silky sleep set you’ve chosen, has a brief moment of clarity to think how funny it was that you picked a sexy pajama set to argue with him. He loves you, God, he’s overwhelmed with love, dizzy with it, out of his mind.

Eren mouths his way around your tits, palming with one hand and pressing the other against the small of your back, pulling you up to him. He hates the idea of space between you two. You’re his forever now, his to push and pull and kiss and bite. 

“My pretty little wife,” Eren feels a grin stretch over his face, sinking his teeth into the flesh of your breast. You moan under him, music to his ears. Eren loves a lot about you, but the little simpering sounds you’re making might be his favorite.

“Like that,” it’s just a whisper above him, but it catches his attention.

“Like what? My mouth?”

“Like when you call me that.”

Eren’s grin grows wider, feral. “Call you what?”

“Eren!”

“Say it,” he slides back up to your mouth, licking into it, “want to hear it out of this pretty mouth, not mine.”

“Your wife,” you give in more quickly than he expects, warmth radiating off of your face. 

“So mean to me,” he hums, giving you one last kiss before traveling down, letting his hand come down to rub insistently at your clit. He swallows a throaty groan; you’re wet, soaked even. Just for him.

“Fuck, Eren– ‘m not mean to you,” you’re pouting through the little whimpers coming out of you, eyebrows knotted on your forehead.

“You are,” Eren insists, nosing at your clit. Jesus Christ, he thinks to himself, you smell delicious. He plants a kiss on the inside of your thigh, nibbles a little at the sensitive skin. “Picking a fight with me, thinking I would ever, ever, go looking at anyone else. How could I? Already got the best pussy in the world right here.”

That earns him another long moan from you, your hands coming to his hair and shoving him insistently towards your center. He’ll make you wait, he decides, still in control enough of his faculties to engage in his favorite pastime: teasing you to the point of tears, leading you to your breaking point and shoving you up against it.

You urge him to you, still pulling on his hair. Eren, a devious grin across his face, resists, blowing cool air on you instead. You whine, hips canting at him temptingly. Eren’s willpower falters just slightly, and he gives you a quick, tentative lick up your center, earning himself a satisfied whimper.

“Need more, baby?”

“You know what I fucking need,” you grumble. Eren chuckles.

“See? Always so mean to me. Can’t have what you want when you’re mean, you know better.”

“Please,” you breathe from above him, voice urgent at his threat, “please, Eren, I can’t take it, I–”

“There you go,” he settles himself in between your legs, pulling you to his face by your hips. If Eren loves one thing in his black-and-white world, it’s having his mouth on you. It’s probably embarrassing how often he asks to sink his tongue into you, how pitifully he begs day in and day out, but he’s beyond caring. It’s well-established in your daily routine: you have your crosswords to keep you content and clear your head, and Eren has your pussy.

He’s gone eight long days without it, and he licks into you like a starved man, hell, maybe he is. Eren groans into you, echoing your own pathetic simpering.

“Can’t wait to put a ring on this pussy, my beautiful pussy,” he speaks into your folds, tickling them in a way that you evidently like, giving him a garbled agreement. Eren relishes your cunt, sucking on your clit and tickling just at the entrance to you with his tongue, working you the way he knows will have you spiraling towards your end.

Without fully realizing it, Eren’s hand is sliding down to palm himself over his pants. Before he knows it, he’s rutting into his own hand like a fucking teenager, couldn’t keep himself together with his face between your legs. Eren prides himself on his stamina, but with the heightened emotions and the week without you, that's gone right out of the window. He’s riding a little too close to the line; he desperately wants you to cum on his face, but at this rate, he’ll blow in his pants if he lets you.

Steeling every ounce of willpower he possesses, Eren pulls his face out of you, takes a deep breath. You whine, reaching for him unsuccessfully.

“Sh, I know,” Eren shushes you, chest swelling with pride at your open need, “so needy for me, aren’t you?”

“Please,” you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling his mouth to yours.

“Gonna fuck you, okay?” You nod urgently into his shoulder, legs already hooked around his hips. Eren’s head’s spinning like it never has before, drunk on you. He manages to get half of his cock into you before he has to stop, grinding his jaw and trying to think about anything other than how your cunt’s milking him.

“Eren,” you plead, trying to urge him forward with your ankles. A deep inhale rattles practically his entire body.

“M'trying not to cum, hold on.” He’s created a monster out of you, he thinks, and maybe out of himself, too.

“I need– fuck, need to…” you slide one hand down your body, rubbing frantically at your clit. Eren’s stuck watching, watching your perfect body swell and shrink with your heavy breaths, watching you try to make yourself cum only half-full.

“Do you think you can?” His words are hardly a breath; he winces when you clench around him harder. You’ve always had trouble cumming without being full, usually finding your release with Eren buried fully inside you, nudging at your cervix. You’re always begging for more, just one more finger, want to be fucked a little harder. The fact that you need him so badly you’re willing to try, make the most out of what you have, makes his heart and his cock pound in tune. Poor thing. 

“Yeah, I, I need to cum so bad, Eren, it’s– shit, so bad, I just–”

“Go ahead, do it then,” Eren firmly interrupts your babbling, a bit of a tell that you’re getting close. If anything gets you off, it’s authority. He leans down, painfully aware of the extra inch of him the new angle pushes into you, trying to focus, trying so hard not to cum yet. He takes your face roughly in his hand, forcing your heart-filled eyes to bore into his. He bares his teeth in a disbelieving, probably half-crazed grin. He loves you so much, needy little thing that you are.“Make yourself cum on me, fucking brat. Can’t even give me two seconds, can you?”

Your bottom lip trembles as you shake your head, more tears welling in your eyes. Eren can feel the quivering of your legs around him, any second now.

“Love me so much, don’t you? So impatient,” He tsks, thumbing at your lip and throwing in a couple light smacks to your cheek for good measure. “Can’t wait to be mine, can’t wait to cum, can’t wait for me to marry you and fuck you everyday, that’s it isn’t it? Gonna fuck you as much as you want baby, my perfect little wife.”

That does it; Eren has to close his eyes when you cum, cunt tightening vice-like around him, but he can feel you squirting on his lower abdomen, feel the cum practically gushing out of you. God help him. You squirm and tremble underneath him, crying out for him to fuck you. He knows you need him, need him to move, and somehow, some way, he does.

He bullies his way into you, feeling you pulse around him and growling deep in his chest. Your eyes fly open at the movement inside of you, flitting between his face and where he's rolling his hips into you.

“Yes,” you hiss, “yeah, please–”

“That’s better, right?” Eren’s in heaven, losing his grip on anything around him that’s not your pussy. “My girl needs to be full, yeah?”

“Mhm,” your eyes are rolling back into your head, drunk on the way he’s pumping in and out of you. Eren’s in awe of you; you’re such a perfect, needy creature, and now you’re all his forever. Shit, he’s not going to last, he can feel it. He slides a hand down your stomach, thrumming insistently at your clit, making you squeal.

“Fuck! Eren, I just– shit, I just came, s’too much.”

“You can cum again, right? Can't be selfish, now,” Eren huffs, stomach tightening with the signs of his impending orgasm. “I’m gonna spend all my money on your fucking ring, and you can’t even cum one more time for me?”

“Eren…” you’re whimpering, damn near crying at this point, tears streaming down your temple. He feels you clench, somehow makes himself thrust faster. Eren loves this part. He’s got you now, and he knows it.

“You say love me, now you gotta show me,” he just needs a few more seconds, come on, “if you want that ring so bad, you gotta cum for it baby.”

Your back arches so violently that had he not known better, Eren might think you’ve been shocked; your pussy squeezes the life out of him, triggers his orgasm along with you. The sound he emits is inhuman, but he’s too lost, too gone to care, shooting rope after rope of cum deep in you. He collapses mid-orgasm, clutching your convulsing body to him, some unconscious part of his brain is directing him to kiss your shoulder, bite into it, and he does. He tastes that salty sheen of your skin, eyes rolling back into his head.

Neither of you speak, just lean into each other for a minute or two. Eren’s vaguely aware of the cum leaking out from where you’re still joined. He hasn’t bothered to pull out yet; pulling out of you is on the hate list. His cock twitches painfully, though, still interested in where he’s buried so deep he can feel your heartbeat. His dick might be aching for a round two, but Eren’s pretty sure he’d knock out in the middle of things if he tried. He groans and rolls off of you, sliding out with a pang of regret.

He props himself up on a shaky elbow, tucking a few of your stray hairs behind your ear. He wants to see your face, your perfect face, sweaty and blotchy and fucked out. You grant him a sleepy smile– oh he loves that face, quickly takes a mental picture to file away.

“You good?”

“So good,” you answer, stretching your arms. “Shower?”

Eren wrinkles his nose, not entirely thrilled at the prospect of washing this gorgeous, post-sex shine off of you. Your face grows insistent. “Shower, Eren.”

“Fine,” he pouts.

“What? You stink.”

“Not that bad,” he lifts an arm, sniffs. Oof, yeah, “not that bad” indeed. He lets you lead him to the shower, waits patiently as you test the water, even lets you rub some of that scratchy body-scrub crap that you swear by all over him.

“Better, right?” You raise your voice over the high-pressure water cascading around you, grinning knowingly. Eren hates conceding, hates admitting when he’s being a bit of a brat, but God, does he love you. He smiles crookedly.

“Much better.”

“So, about before…” Eren’s heart skips a beat, his throat closes. Is this the part where you regret saying yes? Thought he was joking? He should have found a different way out. No, damn it, he should have stuck with the plan, the flowers, the sunset, the quartet– “Can I meet the ring designer?”

Oh. “Um, if you– yeah, if you want. Thought you would like it better as a surprise.”

You cock an eyebrow. “What do you know about my taste in diamonds?”

“Mm, big?”

“Well, yeah,” you giggle, “but do you know what carat I’d prefer? Cut? Setting?”

Eren blushes, frowns. So he has been doing this all wrong. Figures. “That’s what the ring designer’s for, isn’t she?”

“You can still help,” you soothe him, a soapy hand brushing over his cheek, “I’d just like a say, if you don’t mind.”

“Are you mad?” He gives a voice to the fear thudding inside of him, the insecurity clawing at his ribs. You cock your head at him, confused and cute, but even that’s not enough to make him feel better. It’s a black-and-white world, and he needs to hear you say it, perfectly clear.

“Mad? Eren, this is…the happiest day of my life. Why would I be mad?”

“Because…” he scrambles for the words, suddenly sheepish, “I had this whole thing planned for it– for you. We were gonna be on the Empire State Building with a rose wreath and singers–”

“Eren,” you cut him off, serious as he’s ever seen you, “are you actually being serious? Like, actually?”

His face is hot, God it burns with embarrassment. “I mean, sort of.”

“It was perfect,” you sense his discomfort, running a stray hand through his hair, “okay well, not perfect per se, but it was us. We aren’t…we aren’t flowers and Empire State Building people. We’re stupid fights and long distance and hot sex people. That’s our life, and I am beyond okay with that.”

All of the unease evaporates from his body. How do you always have the answer, the words he needs to hear? You’re always right. The quartet may have been a bit much, he reflects, pulling you to him.

“If you’re happy, I am,” he means it, and places a kiss to the part of your hair. You hum contentedly against him, purring against his chest.

The shower goes on as all of your showers together do: you manhandle Eren into shampoo and conditioner (hate list: burns his eyes, slimy), grab miraculously toasty towels from the warmer by the bathtub (love list: cozy), convince him to climb into bed still half-wet, limbs heavy with exhaustion (hate list: his side of the bed’s going to smell like wet dog tomorrow), throw on the Kardashians’ new show (love and hate lists: depends who's asking).

You knock out before him, unaffected by jet lag, drooling into the cavern between his pecs and making a very unflattering face that he makes sure to snap a picture of. You need an updated contact photo in his phone anyway.

He feels unusually contemplative, staring out at the big city from your own little corner of it, making a mental list of all of the people you need to call tomorrow, and what order they should go in. Eren’s world might be big sometimes as he jetsets around, might be small when he’s buried inside of you, focus narrowed on the heat pulled tight around him. It’s always one way or the other, though, and tonight, practically his entire world is laying on his chest, glowing a bright, bridal white.

- tagging @philliamwrites as u requested for my next piece! hope u love it bestie <3

[smutty-ki113r]

🛩Masky🛩||Toxic

NSFW||~ One shot x afab gn!reader, includes- vouyerism, pleasure dom masky, mirror play, teasing, edging, pilot masky, minors—dni (3.4k)

Inspired by: Britney Spears

(Fun fact I wrote this on the plane 😗)!

Working as a flight attendant was such a hassle, keeping you up at ungodly hours and having you deal with customers that complained about their seat. But it certainly had its perks, learning how to balance 4000 ft in the air and ending up in some incredible places, layovers in Hawaii, Dubai, Spain. Out of all these things you never would have imagined joining the mile high club…

You had an hour to get from terminal 1 to 3, your last flight was to Miami, so you were at MIA, looking around for a bathroom. Fixing up your hair quickly and adjusting your uniform before reaching the gate.

The other attendants were also waiting to the side, you were early. Of course you had to board the plane beforehand to check the seats and restock the drink cart.

There was only a few passengers waiting around too, you swayed against your luggage. Looking around to see the two pilots that would be driving the plane walking towards you, one of them you had flown with before, Brian Thomas.

The other one, particularly, caught your eye- probably because you had caught his first. Your heart skipped a beat and you gave him a friendly smile, then averted your gaze to avoid being awkward.

You had never seen him, he was probably new, laughing at something Brian said, but his sight was on you.

The corner of his lip was raised just slightly, he was practically undressing you with his eyes. You couldn’t even complain, he was hot as fuck, and he was flustering you. But his face remained innocent, nobody noticed but you.

He had this dark brown hair and defined features, he was classy, wearing his white uniform and a tie, you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander to how it fit him so perfectly. His build so defined- you stopped from staring at his pants.

If there’s one thing you loved it was a man in uniform.

Nobody had ever flirted with you on the job, and while no words were exchanged, you could feel his burning gaze.

You gulped and tried to look ahead, relieved when they called for all the attendants to board, it took the pressure off.

You took your post at the front of the plane and awaited for the passengers to board to then do the safety demonstrations and make sure everybody had their seatbelts on.

Soon enough zone 1 people started coming and you greeted them all, the door to the cockpit opened and you found yourself face to face with the pilot, glancing at his name embroidered in gold.

“Wright” you said softly, meeting his gorgeous eyes.

“yeah like the Wright brothers” he joked, looking you up and down and giving you a subtle smirk.

“That’s fitting” you told him. “Nice to meet you…”

“Tim” he finished, catching your name as well. “We’re about to take off, be a dear and get me some water will you?” He requested.

Nodding obediently and scurrying off to find him some water, he watched you go. Knocking on the door to the pit to alert them of your arrival and handing him the drink.

“Thank you gorgeous” he said, your face turning red at the compliment and instead moving to greet the other pilot, Brian nodded to you and you left.

Your thoughts remained on the beautiful man and you mindlessly did your rounds before the plane took off. Strapping in and listening to the men over the intercom.

“And we are ready for departure, flight 113 from MIA to JFK”

Smiling at yourself at the thought of your one day vacation in New York City. You wanted to go shopping and maybe visit the Statue of Liberty.

It was two hours into the grueling flight, your ears had already popped from the altitude, you never did get used to that.

You sat at the back, passing around the cart once and letting your other fellow flight attendants do the rounds for trash and such. You were all alone, looking out the window, your head in the clouds, and being almost startled as you saw the handsome man approach.

“I thought you were driving this thing” you whisper-hissed.

“Brian’s doing it, I’ve been at the wheel for almost three hours” he said, stressed. Flexing his arms out and stretching, leaning against a wall.

You couldn’t help but stare at his hands, his thick fingers, how you wished he could fill you up and make you pant out his name and-

Shaking yourself out of your thoughts and getting up, “you can have my seat if you want” he was probably exhausted.

“Sit back down” he said, his tone low. You did as he said; a tingle in between your legs at how commanding he was.

“I just came here to get a- snack” he said slowly, smiling as if he wasn’t looking at up and down you when he said that.

“I can make you something if you like” you offered, his tense posture relaxed.

“You’re a godsend, yeah, I’ll take a black coffee” you nodded attentively and got up to make his drink. Focusing on making sure it didn’t spill and stirring it for him.

Turning to him and handing him the drink, he took a sip and set it down on the counter. “Thank you beautiful”

You shook your head, it was nothing, “yeah of course” you laughed nervously, “whatever you need” you told him in a passing tone.

His gaze pierced through you, “whatever I need?” He said, his voice teasing, dripping with desire.

Right then you knew you had made a grave mistake, gulping and looking away. He approached you, his lips so close to your ear, tucking hair behind your ear and letting his fingers brush upon your neck.

God damn turbulence betrayed you, swaying the plane and making you lose your footing and slide right into him. His hand at your waist to keep you upright.

“Now that you mention it” he whispered in your ear. “There was something else…and I’m still hungry” his gentle touches were making you weak at the knees.

You glanced behind him but nobody was watching, you were afraid of what would happen if you were caught, he seemed to notice.

“I’ll be careful” he promised, his head an inch away from being buried in the crook of your neck, and he smelled so good, like this expensive manly cologne.

“We’ll be quick” his words so soothing and convincing you. There was already a feverish throbbing at your clit that you severely needed to attend to. A wave of desperate heat at your lower abdomen that you craved for him to satisfy.

You couldn’t resist this man, he had a mesmerizing effect on you. So you focused on his lustful gaze as he walked you back into one of the bathrooms, locking the door behind him and wasting no time in leaning down to kiss you.

Tim sealed the small space separating the two of you, a knee already in between your legs because of how compact the space was. You let out a few pants at the way he rubbed you, unable to stop yourself even though there might have been people just outside that door.

His kisses passionate and needy, like he had been craving you ever since the moment he laid eyes on you. And everything he did was intoxicating, you were so receptive to him, slick already gathering in your panties as he met your lips in an open kiss and bit down on your lip, nibbling and teasing you,

There was barely any space in that bathroom, moving around and escaping him would be difficult, it almost didn’t give you a choice, but Tim felt so good, you couldnt help but whisper his name in need.

“Oh fuck” he cursed, “your kisses are so delicious” he reached a hand down to your stomach, trailing it down your torso to your most intimate area, replacing his knee and pressuring your cunt gently through your skirt, “I wanna know if the rest of you tastes just as good”

Your breath hitched when he hoisted you on the small counter, your pussy embarrassingly wet at every one of his touches. He spread your knees open and bent down to get to work.

“So this is what you meant by hungry” you said in the middle of the heated moment.

His eyes met yours and you gulped at the mischievous glint swirling his pupils. Feeling a throb at the view of the captain on his knees. “Exactly” He chuckled lowly and pressed his lips to your thighs impatiently, sinking his teeth into your soft skin and leaving marks nobody would know about but him.

You whined, having to bite your lip to stop yourself from letting any lewd noises escape. “Oh god” you whispered, when he finally got to your pussy. It was too much tension, his hot breath lingering where his teeth marks lay, and now- right on your clit.

He hooked his fingers to your panties and brought them down, amused at the wet spot on them. Now there was nothing else below that short skirt. Your body involuntarily bucked forward, and his big hands held you in place. “Impatient are we?”

But he was just as rushed as you, it was supposed to be a quickie in the bathroom not lovemaking. If you wanted to do that later he would gladly lay you down in a proper bed and do so, but for now all he was focused on was your pussy glistening with your juices that he so desired.

Bringing his lips to you and lapping a stripe up your slit before opening you up and tasting you in full. Groaning at the sensation of your sex clenching around his tongue while he fucked you with it.

His fingers digging into your skin to bring you closer to his face and encourage you to ride as wildly as you pleased. You weren’t one to resist, your knuckles white as you held onto a handle on the wall and the roof above you. Praying that the passengers on the plane thought the rough movement was from turbulence and nothing more.

Tim ate like a starved man, in a way you had never felt before. There was no stopping him either, he wouldn’t cease his tongue fuck until he was satisfied, and nothing would please him more than you gushing over him enough to let him know you were ready for something much larger.

Besides, he couldn’t get his eyes off you, he was particularly enjoying making you squirm at the brink of your first release. He liked teasing you this much, it showed him that he held all the power, and you were wrapped around his finger. Technically you were, when he slipped one in and curled it in your soft spot.

His lips sucked at your bundle of nerves hard enough to make you spasm and clench your legs around his head, everything was going according to his plan. “Yeah? Does that feel good?” He asked, taking a breath and dipping another digit inside your dripping pussy.

You struggled to keep your voice bellow a whisper, but he didn’t seem to care about a possible audience. All he was focused on was pulling more of those pretty cries from your swollen lips. “Yes-yes” you repeated.

Your brows furrowing at the pleasure he was providing you with, and Tim himself was getting off at just the taste of you. His cock twitching in his uniform pants, he was painfully hard so he had to take himself out and stroke when you creamed on his tongue.

“You taste so sweet honey” he praised, “I love it when you struggle to speak because I’m making you cum with just my tongue” he smirked. The flat of his tongue once again swirling your swollen clit enough to make you let out a mutter of incoherent nonsense.

Too drunk off the bliss you couldn’t argue back, you didn’t want to. It was like you were in heaven, preforming acts that were so sinful they would have led you to hell.

“T-Tim” you gasped, “I’m close” you warned him, “gonna cum”

Once again he started eating you like you were his las meal on earth, your eyes rolled back in delight. But he wasn’t going to let you get off that easily, you should have known. “Not until you ask for permission”

He pulled his touch away slightly, enough to keep you just at the edge of your orgasm for a bit longer.

“Please” you cried, tears in your eyes. “Can I please cum, captain?”

The man saw the look on your face but just cooed, “you haven’t said my name” he reminded you.

“Captain wright” you babbled “captain wright”, again and again because once you spoke the magic words he just kept going faster. Pumping his thick fingers in and out of your sopping hole hard enough to make you come undone. Crying out for him and gripping onto the edge of the counter to restrain yourself.

“That’s right, just like that” he coaxed, helping you ride down from your climax so perfectly, You were thankful that he was there to hold you steady. Lapping at your release before standing up again and pressing his bare cock to your entrance.

“Gonna need you to beg for this one too” he said, to fuel his ego and also for consent reasons. His lips to your neck now. You had barely managed to come down from such ecstasy before registering what he was asking.

But you were far too gone, your cunt still clenching for him. There was nothing you wanted to do more than to satisfy him like he did you. Nodding and letting a few “please’s” to let him know you craved it too.

“Mhm that’s what I thought”, you could hear the cockiness in his voice, looking down to see if he had the package to back it up but your jaw hug open once you felt it. Prodding at you and letting his precum mix in with your slick.

“‘S not gonna fit” you said in a hiccup, eyes wide and narrowed at his heavy cock that pressed against your slit as you dripped on him. “It’s too big” you squeaked.

“Oh it’ll fit” he panted, mimicking the motions of sex but just grinding himself raw on you. “I’ll make it fit” he hissed. Finally rolling his hips into you in one swift movement. “Fuck” he cursed under his breath, it was quite a tight fit, enough to make him pause because he didn’t want to cum instantly.

A stray groan fell from your mouth but he caught it with his own, meeting you in a heated embrace. His hands on either side of you, pressing prints onto the mirror behind you. He pulled out and thrusted back in, working a good pace. You slowly acclimated to his thick girth with every stroke in your pussy.

Even with the stretch it felt so delicious, your hands clutching his once ironed uniform into wrinkled bunches. There was barely any space in that god forsaken bathroom, but it just gave him the excuse to stay closer to you. That and he just had to give smaller, quicker thrusts.

His big cock splitting you open time and time again, his tip reaching your cervix, thudding against your g spot in a way that made you squeeze him like a vice.

A hand keeping your knee open while he fucked you, practically pounding you. Making you lose your breath and your head go fuzzy. “You’re so tight” he hissed, “practically milking me”

He was panting, pulling out momentarily to turn you around and fuck you doggystyle. Except now, you could see your reflection and his own. The whole image of the captain pounding your pussy till it turned red on full display for you. A grin making its way to his lips, he liked seeing you struggle to fit him fully.

But the look on your face and the way you gripped around him told him that you wanted it, that and those obscene noises you were making every time he hilted. “Thats a good, pretty baby” he rasped, “servicing all your captains’ needs”

You looked at his eyes in the mirror, a pout on your lips from how he was acting. A hand making it’s way to your chin to redirect your gaze to your own body. “Watch yourself” he whispered, his breath hot on your ear.

“Look at yourself while you take all of me” he panted, and you felt yourself melt at the obscenity of his words. “I want you to see how good I’m fucking you”

Doing as he said and feeling his balls clap against your ass, it was almost more unholy to watch your expression and the way he made your body bounce back and forth on his cock.

“Do you see it?” He asked, “that fucked out look on your face from how deep my cock is right now”, a gentle touch at your lower abdomen to press where he was bulging. “Here, all the way inside that slutty little hole of yours” he teased.

It was all too lewd, you felt yourself sizzling with desire, about to burst again if he kept whispering those sweet words in your ear.

“You look so hot when I’m inside of you” he praised. “Mhm with me stretching you out, you’re so hungry for it” he growled. “Isn’t that right?”

“Yes sir”, You were struggling to piece together your words, the ones you could were just ‘more- more more more”, so thats exactly what you said.

“Please” you cried “please sir, more”,

Your noises getting a bit too out of control, he had to discipline you. A hand moving to your lips to hold your mouth as he told you to be quiet, but that almost made it worse. Now the sound of the lewd squelch and clapping of balls was the only thing that could be heard along with your muffled groans and pants.

“Shh that’s right” he said, softly. “Just keep taking it, just let me take care of you” you nodded at the finger at your lips telling you to be silent. “stay and let me fuck that pretty pussy just a bit longer.”

You bit your tongue and did as he instructed, trying to hold on but the throbbing at your cunt was aching. “Please captain, let me cum” you whispered.

Meeting his eyes through the mirror and he seemed to relent, it’s not like he would hold on much longer either. You were squeezing him too tight, and he couldn’t pull out too much, there wasn’t any space in that damn little cabin.

His hand gripped the rails to steady himself, the other at your ass to take a handful of. “You’ve been good, go ahead, you can cum” he whispered in your ear.

It felt like such a relief, shivers going down your spine and directly to your pussy. “I’m cumming-“ you warned, fluttering around him as you found your release.

“That’s a good baby just let yourself go” he said in a raspy tone, his fingers digging so deep into your ass there would definitely be marks. “Let your captain take care of you”

Your legs were weak, trembling as he hilted and spilled deep inside of your hole, groaning into your shoulder as he filled you up.

His cock twitching as you squeezed him until his balls were empty. Eventually he pulled out, his release dripping out from your hole and down your legs.

His big hands helped you pull up your panties once again, it wasn’t much help concealing the act, your hair was all disheveled and your cheeks rosy.

His release still inside of you a lewd reminder of what had just transpired on the planes bathroom.

“You did so good for me” he praised, making sure you were good before sending you off.

He put your skirt in place, “welcome to the mile high club” he whispered with a chuckle, “have a safe flight now”

[nelyo-s]

Armand and making eye contact with Louis

this is just something i noticed when watching. i was motivated to put it into a post after reading the comments on a gifset of the 'get into the coffin face down' scene, and some people apparently interpreting it as bad pimp Louis forcing former sex slave Armand into complying.

Armand has no problem holding eye contact when he's feeling sure of himself, like in every scene in Dubai up until e6, or with the coven. like he knows he's the most dangerous predator around.

he's different with Louis though. of course there's the really obvious arun/maitre thing and both times it happens he reacts the same:

lowers his eyes, blink rapidly, look back up but seems as if he's afraid to make eye contact while the rest of his demeanor mirrors that. he submits.

they might have their d/s power dynamic going on, but Louis hasn't somehow turned Armand into a mindless puppet just following his orders. in the scene where Louis first wants to kiss him he refuses, and later when Louis kind of demands he turn madeleine into a vampire he refuses again (although not as convincingly).

he still looks down, but fully this time. not like he's respectfully lowering his eyes in front of a person with more power than him. still blinks, but much more naturally, looks back up and holds eye contact. most importantly he stands his ground, even though he might be uncomfortable and possibly ready to submit to Louis after all, should he ask again (sacre coeur scene).

and then we have these scenes.

in both Louis is more or less ordering him around in the context of their relationship. left gif is at the very beginning. Louis asking/telling him to come upstairs, where Armand is most definitely nervous about giving love another chance after Lestat. he might be exhibiting the looking down and blinking unaturally thing but he's still very much in control of himself, he's making a choice here and the choice is to look back up and do what he wants to do. and then time passes, and he's more secure in their relationship when Louis orders him to get into the coffin. he looks back up, makes eye contact. he does not shut down like he does when the arun thing comes up, he's very much in control of his actions and going by the expression on his face and the way he gets up and starts working on his clothes he is enthusiastically consenting to the whole thing lol.

[claudiablogger]

armand is definitely the reason louis doesn't consider himself a victim or abused at all bc back in new orleans and paros claudia reminded him over and over it was literally why she plotted to kill him it ran their lives there was no getting around it. besides to ignore the abuse lestat inflicted on him was to ignore its effect on claudia + how she faced lestat's abuse as well, so at the very least he had to face the truth of the horror he was living in for claudia's sake. he's gotten tired of us the housewife and the mistake. no louis we're his slaves and i will free us both. when he gets to paris and armand asks him if he's broken, if lestat broke him (mirroring how claudia later tells madeleine even through the aftershocks of the violence she commits there's something broken in her) he's aware enough of his past and lestat's effect on him to waver, and of course aware enough of the danger armand posed five minutes ago to him that lies latent still, to hesitate in replying in the affirmative. even in san fran he's angry enough at lestat and daniel is sharp enough (well. of sorts) for the violence and the disappointment to be just as much part of the story as the love. but by the time the dubai interview rolls around and daniel is asking all these very obvious questions abt their power imbalance, already brought up by claudia, that louis had no trouble accepting in rue royale, louis is not only self possessed, calm near to the point of sedation (vacuuming on valium.....), but also in full denial abt the abusive nature of his relationship with lestat and the deep love he had for him. s2 as I've said before is abt louis picking the option he's supposed to w regret and bitterness and shame at how it ended w lestat driving the understanding that love will never work for him and he wants to seize back the protective cover of posed masculinity. by dubai this has relaxed, somewhat, but he's still rigidly controlled (i apologize for my outburst -> one single tear) and conflates agency for a denial of what was done to him. bc how'd it go the first time around........the name. unuttered in their home for decades. the harm he caused louis brushed under the rug to salvage armands pride. who holds that leash

[baeksqt]

𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐇 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑— valentina giacinti

valentina giacinti x fem!reader

(a/n: had this small blurb sitting in my drafts since feb/march? idk but I think I might do a pt. 2 of this vale piece but anyways enjoy my luvvies ^_^)

word count: 434

genre: fluff with an angsty tendencies??

The air hung comfortably silent in the living room, as you and Valentina huddled around your suitcase. With her sitting on the blue hardshell as you were on your knees trying to close your luggage, tugging at the zip. 

“Mia Rosa, move your legs for a moment.” Tapping Val’s calf gently so you can drag the zip around the suitcase, letting your girlfriend attach the lock. As Val clicked the lock into place, you couldn't help but notice the dejected look on her face. Her lips formed a slight pout as the curls of her hair cascaded across her face.

“You know, six months will pass by in the blink of an eye,” you said with a soft smile, gently brushing the overgrown hair out of her face. “We’ll see.” she huffed, plopping down on the carpet across from you, leaning against the overstuffed suitcase. “What time is your flight?”

“5:15,” you answered shortly, “it’s now 11, so I’m going to get ready.” Standing up to head to the bathroom.

Valentina had been quiet all morning as you hurried around the apartment frantically, trying to collect last-minute items for your flight. The airline you worked for wanted you to relocate to Dubai and that meant turning your relationship with Valentina into a long-distance one. As the moving day approached, it became evident that Valentina struggling to come to terms with the idea of relocation. Every time the topic was brought up, she seemed to dodge it, perhaps in the hope that you might reconsider the opportunity and decide to stay in Rome with her.

As time went by, you eventually found yourself in front of the hallway mirror with only a couple of minutes until you needed to head off. You meticulously adjusted your hair parting, making sure to smooth down any stray hairs and ensuring that they stayed in place. The lingering scent of hairspray filled the air as you worked on perfecting your look.

Valentina sauntered over to you, her steps deliberate and graceful, the aroma of her coffee trailing behind her. As she took her last sip before setting it down on the coffee table, her gaze lingered on you, assessing you from top to bottom. As she reached out a warm hand to straighten the lapels of your blazer, you caught a glimpse of her intent expression in the reflection. The subtle movements of her hand and the furrow of her brow hinted at the whirlwind of thoughts racing through her mind.

“You’ll be back before you know it.” her voice exuded a sense of calm reassurance. You hum in agreement, your eyes gazing over the tiny bumps of her freckles. “I promise you it won’t be long and you have many matches to play whilst I'm away,” your voice cracking slightly as you pulled her into a tight embrace, hearing her small sniffle by your ear, holding in her tears.

[rapha-reads]

IWTV rewatch

(this show and these books are insane and inspiring - spoilers for both seasons)

Season 1 episode 5 [A Vile Hunger For Your Hammering Heart] - part 1/2

- Previously... Trouble in the Unholy Family.

- Hey, did y'all notice that the intro card, the red sky with the skyline, actually changes? I was rewatching some parts of s2 and noticed that the skyline is different cities, but some buildings disappear from one episode to another.

- *wheezes* What the hell is this opening. Loumand indulging in some exhibitionism for Daniel while Daniel's going through Claudia's exploits. Hilarious. This show is a comedy, I swear. Holy shit, look at Armand's face, he's having the time of his life. And Louis doesn't give a shit, man wants his blood and that's it. Freaks. I love them.

[Daniel] "I'm trying to think of something more fucked up than this." - I don't know, what's going on in front of you maybe? *dies of laughter*

- [Rashid/Armand] "'And how is your work any different? Well, what do you think will happen to Mr du Lac when you publish this book, when the other vampires of the world get their hands on it?' [Daniel] 'As long as they pay full freight.' [Rashid/Armand] 'They will make their way to Dubai. They will scale the sides of this building, force their way inside, and paint the walls with his blood. You are chronicling a suicide. Do not look down on Claudia. Look in the mirror.'"

... Hey, Armand? Pot meets kettle. Don't pretend you care about Claudia. You could stop this any time you want. You're enjoying this, you're enjoying Louis' pain, you're thinking that the book will never see the light of day, that you're in control of the entire narrative, that you can stop this any time you want, that nothing will come out of this enterprise. You're thinking that if, if it comes to this, you'll get to play hero and "save" Louis' life again, and thus tie him even more to yourself. You're assisting that suicide, Armand. You just think that you're in control of the dosage. Look in the mirror.

- [Louis] "Honey and pineapple. He stuffs himself with both for days before he offers himself to me." - Lou baby I love you but you are insane. And also there are things you'd do better to keep in your head, actually. This whole roleplay thing is crazy. I'm imagining Daniel thinking back on these moments after he's turned and just going "what in the seven hells was that".

- [Rashid/Armand] "I care for him more than I care for himself." - oooh, did you guys notice that quick side glance Louis throws at Armand there? That line is Armand being genuine and Louis going "hey dear that's not in the script, what are you saying". Louis is done with both Armand and Daniel, he's being very bitchy and mean.

- What'd that bird do to you, Louis? Leave the poor birdy alone.

Aw, how the tableturns have turned, or however that expression goes. Now you're trying to get her to feed when you made Lestat's life hell refusing to eat yourself...

- Lestat reading and mocking Claudia's diary = Damon Salvatore reading and mocking Stefan and Elena's diaries (my first vampire show was Vampire Diaries, sorry, can't escape your past and all that).

- Oof, Claudia shattering the mirror and Louis being the cautious, angry one for once. Family's in trouble. And then the river of corpses... Oh, trouble, trouble all around.

- Ugh. Tom fucking Anderson is back. When does he die again because he's ugh.

- [Anderson] "Every single one of those corpses had some soft part of it lopped off. Finger here, a foot there... a toe." - yeah, I'm good with blood, but body parts? Claudia's trophies? That is actually stomach turning.

- [Lestat] "One each" - power couuuuuple. Look at them go! Unstoppable when they finally work together, and so in synch. That's what we like to see! Also let's just get rid of Anderson now, thanks.

- Oh, man, Claudia being drunk when the cops are searching the house, half comedy, half horror show. And then the real horror starts as she gathers her trophies. Ah, fuck, I had forgotten about the half dead guy in the closet. She craaaazy.

- [Lestat] "You wanted her, you fix her!" - when one of your parent tells the other "that's your child" when you do or behave in a way they hate. Classic parent stuff.

[Louis] "'We're doing this together.' [Lestat] 'Do you remember our life, how happy we were before her?' [Louis] 'Happy? We were not happy!' [Lestat] 'An anvil, tied around our ankles, pulling us towards the pitch-black ocean floor.'"

Ouch. You ever hear your parents fighting because of you, blaming you for their issues? Yeah... Can't say I blame Claudia for going off the rails.

- [Claudia] "Who am I supposed to love? You two have each other. Who's my Lestat? Who's my Louis? I'm not human. What human would want me? Perverts? Like the uncle at the rooming house who used to watch me pee? Or little boys? And 40 years from now... still little boys? How are you gonna fix it, huh? Which one of you gonna fuck me?!"

Hey, more of Claudia's fucked up backstory. 'You broke it, you fix it', except they can't even begin to understand what's broken, because she's right, they've got each other, even when they fight, that's Louis-and-Lestat, Lestat-and-Louis, they can't even understand why she's so mad and so sad and so angry. Kinda like when allosexual alloromantic people tell you, an aro ace person "but you don't love?" - bitch, I do love, I just don't wanna date anybody, thanks. L&L to Claudia: "but we're a family, we're rich and we're powerful, why are you not happy". Claudia: "bitch, maybe because I'm stuck as a kid for the rest of eternity while my mind and spirit age and I gotta see you two romance each other every fucking night while knowing that nobody will ever want to romance me?".

- [Claudia] "'I'm gonna go out there and find other vampires.' [Lestat] 'If you could find them, which you won't, they would shred you to strips, because you are build like a bird, because you are a mistake.'"

Bedside manners, Lestat. You know the worst thing, Lestat does warn here that she'd be in danger, but he does it in such a mocking, cruel manner that obviously she doesn't believe him and doesn't even take him seriously.

- Louis' dejected scoff when Lestat tells him he's killing Antoinette soon. These madmen are so bad at communicating.

- [Louis] "We made her out of remorse, out of selfishness." - ah, the self-awareness brought by a century of reflecting on your past. But what's that "we", Louis? You wanted her out of remorse, as your penance, your redemption for your sins and mistakes. Lestat made her out of love and pity for you.

- [Daniel] "'Poor dear. She wasn't held enough in between ritualistic murders.' [Louis] 'She spent every night for half a decade with no friends, locked in the emotional storm of puberty.' [Daniel] 'Look, Charlie Manson wrote a couple of beautiful songs. Still, he was Charlie Manson.' [Louis] 'Is that all you think of her?' [Daniel] 'Mostly. I also think she makes you and Frenchy look like a couple of whiny, existential queens. Probably why she's a fucking goldmine. The girl who moves a million books.' [Louis] 'I won't have her exploited.' [Daniel] 'Won't matter what your intentions are. It's the world out there now. She's the - the... single-shooter, Xbox, mouth-breather shit they crave.'"

Daniel's right. Look at us, we fucking love Claudia. She's a psycho, she's murderous, she's cold-blooded... She's our babygirl. She's our bicon. She's the moment. We love her because she's unhinged and feral and unapologetic about her pain and anger.

I love this writing, how it totally recontextualizes the whole story in the 21st century. Book!Claudia is disturbing, little blond angel with blood on her teeth, the eternal child with the wisdom and anger of a grown woman. Show!Claudia is pure attraction and mass adoration, the symbol of teenage angst with all of a lifetime of anger and rebellion. We relate to her, we the generations that have had to grow up so fast while simultaneously stunted, can't find jobs but expected to be way more qualified than our parents, can't buy a house but gotta be way more independent and resourceful and crafty than our elders. The whole world at our fingertips but completely unable to reach it, stuck in an eternal loop of doom and gloom as we watch the world burn without having the slightest power to stop it.

And of course Daddy Lou still wants to protect her from that, even in death, still sees her as his precious little daughter/sister who needs sheltering and safeguarding, even after she tells him she's not that kid anymore.

Well, that was heavy. Doom and gloom indeed. Don't think part 2 will get any better.

episode 1 | episode 2 | episode 3 | episode 4 | part 2 | episode 6 | episode 7

[melanieph321]

Ruben Dias x Reader - Fake Love Part 4/8

⚠️ Warning ⚠️

18+

Reader is a kindergarten teacher. Nothing more nothing less. But following an accident whistle vacation in Dubai she somehow makes her boyfriend believe that she does somthing else for a living, something that earns her way more money than she has. Her boyfriend, Ruben, is just happy to have found someone who understands him so well, someone who doesn't want him for his money since money isn't an issue for neither reader or himself. Or so thinks. Would finding out the truth ruin their newfound relationship? Readers thinks so, and does everything to keep up the lie, although it has some bad people from the middle east looking for her.

Enjoy!

"Taxi!"

You called for one outside of the airport in London. You were tired from the journey and longed for a hot shower back at your apartment.

"Taxi!" You shouted, quite desperate for one to pull up.

"Y/N, chill." Alicia said. "Our ride will be here in a minute."

"Our ride?" You frowned.

Alicia nodded, phone still pressed to her ear. "I'm consulting the Siddiq family right now, see if they can send us a...."

Alicia's eyes widened with terror as you lunged for her phone, forcing her to hang up.

"Whatta fuck Y/N!"

"Are you crazy?" You hissed

"Am I crazy, are you crazy Y/N? Give me back my phone for fuck sakes."

You held her phone behind your back, refusing to return it. "Alicia we are not doing this. We can not continue spending somone elses money. It has to end. Right now."

"Why? They owe us don't they?"

"No Alicia, they owe us nothing, especially not you." It was not her leg that grilled in the fire. "The Siddiq family has shown us enough kindness then we deserve, this will not go on any longer, agreed?"

She didn't agree. However, she could tell how serious you were about this. "Fine." She said, stretching out a hand, demanding her phone back.

"Who are you gonna call?"

"Well, it's not Ghostbusters, is it? I'm calling a taxi."

You handed her back the phone, a sly smile on your face.

The days passed quickly there on, like your time in Portugal never happened. The burn on your leg healed but roughly, the skin not as smooth on that part of your leg. The only times it bothered you was when you got out of the shower, standing naked in front of the bathroom mirror. However, no one was gonna see you naked, at least not for some time. Yes, you felt guilty for giving Ruben a fake number, but you held your ground when it came to not live off of some rich business man in Dubai. It was the only reason Ruben was interested in you in the first place, because he thought you were rich like him. But no more lies. Meeting Ruben was a lie and even though falling for him felt real it was built on a lie and no relationship could ever flourish from somthing like that, right?"

"Miss?"

"Miss?"

"Yes, Simon?"

You snapped out of your daydreams, peering over your desk to see one of your kindergarten students with a pen up their nose."

"It's stuck." He said.

You sighed, rising from behind your desk. "Let's go to the nurses office shall we?"

"Okay."

You had one of your colleagues come in and cover for you whilst you escorted Simon to the school nurse. Yes, your life was really back to it's glamorous self.

"Hey, Y/N? Need a lift?"

It was Byron, seen crossing the school parking lot to get to you. You were really not in the mood, still adjusting being back to work. All you wanted to do was go home and lay in your bath.

"Sure Byron, why not."

He was considered a friend, although you know he never really got over your brief hook up in university.

"The kids are glad to have you back."

"Oh, thanks Byron. That's nice of you to say."

He drove you home the long way, avoiding the highway that would only take you ten minutes to arrive.

"Not only the kids." He added. "I missed you too."

Your smile was stiff, but at least it was something.

"When Nina told me what happened to you in Dubai I got so worried that I had to take a day off just to calm myself down, not to worry the kids that their teacher wasn't coming back to work."

"That sweet of you Byron. But it wasn't a serious thrid degree burn, my skin heald pretty quickly." Your boss Nina made it seemed like you lost a limb or something. Mainly because Alicia's dramatic Tik Tok's had people assuming the worst. Even your parents called you in concern after your brothers came across one of Alicia's vlogs from the hospital in Dubai.

"Well, I'm just glad you're back."

"Thanks Byron."

He was a sweet guy, not relationship sweet, but a descent human being sweet. You appreciate how much he cared for you as a friend.

"I have no problems giving you a ride to and from work, I mean we're basically on the same schedule."

"Thanks Byron, but I don't think that will be necessary."

Alot of people had offered to help you out,  even your boss suggested you'd cut back on your hours a work, however, it wasn't necessary. You needed something to take your mind off things. With things you meat, your agonizing thoughts of what could have been between you and Ruben.

Arriving home, you grabbed yourself a light snack from the fridge whilst waiting for your hot tub to fill with water. Once it did you, stripped yourself of your clothes, slipping I to the scolding water, allowing the heat to relax your muscles. You did not stay relaxed for long though, seeing as there was an incoming facetime call from your phone. "What?" You grunted, since now was not the time to hear about the latest gossip at Alicia's workplace.

"Hey, gorgeous,"

You stiffened at the sound of his voice.

"Ruben?"

You were looking into the screen of your phone, in disbelief of who was staring back at you. It was Ruben, with his hair sprouting in every direction as he looked to lay back in a bed, one arm draped behind his neck. "Um...hi." You stuttered, not really sure how any of this was possible.

Ruben smiled "I just wanted to see how you're doing and see if you're missing me as much as I'm missing you."

"Um, how...?"

"Did I get your real number?" He chuckled.

Heat rose to your face.

"Well, after calling "your number" over a hundred times, Fabio let me get in touch with your friend who told me what was going on."

"Alicia gave you this number?"

"Mhm." He nodded, tossing what looked to be a grape, into his mouth. "She told me that you thought that I wasn't that into you, that perhaps I was only out to screw you over or something."

"She did what?"

"It's ridiculous, I agree. How do you even come up with something like that? I mean you're the one who screwed me over by letting me call a fake number like an idiot."

There was a jab in your stomach as his tone was serious, laced with sincere hurt. "Ruben I'm so sorry. I didn't..."

"Let's not play the blame game." He waved. "Your friend made it clear that you haven't been dating for a while and that your game might be a bit stiff."

"Pardon?"

Ruben laughed.

"I am not stiff."

"I believe you." He said, although he had trouble talking between laughs. "I mean you look pretty relaxed in that bathtub back there."

You gasped when you realized. "Oh my god. Ruben I'm...." Embarrassed. You were terrible embaresssed, sinking deeper into the water to cover yourself. You and Ruben hadn't talked for days and the first thing he sees is you slipping him a nipple.

"It's okay, Y/N, really. The view is great from here."

"Oh shut up."

You put the phone away, letting Ruben have a good view of your bathroom ceiling. The tub needed more water, and bubbles, lots of of bubbles.

"There you are." He exclaimed, once you returned to the screen, now neck deep in in the water. "Thought I lost you for a sec."

"Ruben, maybe now is not the time." You said, tormentented by how stupid you must come across to him.

"Y/N." He said, his voice now restrained.

"What?" You muttered, trying to stare at anything but the screen.

"Look at me."

Your eyes looked up, meeting Ruben's kind gaze.

"You're good, okay. Sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable by calling unexpectedly. I just...." He sighed, a hand running through his already messy hair. "I can't seem to get you out of my mind."

You sunk deeper into the water,  biting down on your lip. "Me too. I can't stop thinking about you either."

"Well, when can we meet?" He seemed excited that your feelings were mutual.

"Ruben, I'm not sure I'll be going back to Portugal anytime soon. I mean I have a job to do and..."

"Y/N." He said. No. Chuckled.

"What's so funny?" You frowned

"You really don't watch football do you?"

"What do you mean?"

Ruben sat up in bed, showing off the tracksuit he was wearing. "You said you've heard of Manchester United, no?"

"Yes, the English team that you told me played in the Premier League."

"Right. Well I play for their arche rivals Manchester City, meaning I live in Manchester, England."

"Wait what?"

"Yeah."

"So, you're not from Portugal?"

He chuckled. "I'm from Portugal Y/N, I was born and raise there. But just like you I was just on vacation. I got back to Manchester yesterday."

"So what you're saying is that we're both in England as we speak?"

"Yes. And my team has fixtures in London all the time, meaning I'll be able to come see you between games."

"Right."

The problem was that you had once again lied to Ruben when he asked you were in England you lived. You figured London sounded more suitable abode for a business woman, not Chells Way, Stevenage.

"Y/N, you alright?"

The downside about facetime was that your emotions were all on display. Ruben clearly caught your reaction to his offer and it was not what he had expected.

"Of course, there is no pressure for us to meet." He said, clearing his throat. "I just thought, that it was something that we both wanted."

"I want to meet." You nodded, although your voice betrayed you. "I just...my job, you know?" It was another lie. You were piling lie upon lie on this fake love of yours. Nevertheless, Ruben ate it all up, nodding understandingly. "I get it."

He was so kind. He didn't deserve this from you, from anyone.

"Ruben?" You whispered, following a moment spent in silence.

"Yes."

"I really missed you."

A muscle jerked in the corner of his lips. "I missed you too."

"Tell me." You sighed, leaning back against the tub, splashing water around yourself. "Tell me how much you've missed me."

Ruben froze for a brief moment, seeing you redirect the camera angle in a way that revealed more of your body.

"Alot." He gulped, watching you dip a hand between your legs.

"Yeah? Tell me more."

He couldn't see all of you through the murky water. But as the layers of bubbles disappeared with your slow shifts, the swell of your breast resurfacing.

"Oh, baby don't do this to me." Ruben's head fell back against his pillows as he too adjusted his camera angles. You watched him slip a hand down his sweatpants and stroke whatever he was hiding in there. "I missed you so much, wishing you were here, with me." He moaned, chest heaving up and down with his heavy breathing.

"Ruben, please. Tell me what you want to do to me." You up the pace of the movement between you legs. You we drawing small circles against your clit, the sensation sending chocks of lightning to your body's nerve endings.

"I want to fuck you, hard." He groaned.

"Yeah, and?"

"Fuck you hard and watch your tittes bounce when you ride me."

"Yes, and?" You were squinting your eyes, primitive moans leaving your mouth, echoing throughout your bathroom.

"And..." He grunted on the edge of something. His movements down his pants were faster than yours, unable to contain himself.

"And, Ruben? Please tell me."

"Baby, I can't. I'm close." Ruben's camera shook with the bouncing of his bed. You watch him please himself, please himself to the image of you.

"Me too baby, me too." You arched your back in the tub, one of your legs going over the edge, opening yourself up wider. "Look at me baby, watch me come for you."

He seemed unable to multitask, having to slow down as not to make himself come before you. He watched you please yourself to the point of screaming his name, you're fingers buried deep inside of you.

"Fuck." He groaned, staining his bedsheets with the erruption of his cock.

"That felt good." You smiled, regaining your breath, coming down from the high. "I can't believe I just did that."

"Me neither." Ruben said, no longer in his bed. He looked to be in a small bathroom, washing his hands. "Sametime tomorrow?"

You shook your head, unable to hide your smile. "Goodbye Ruben."

He smiled, a cheeky smile. "Goodbye Y/N."

[sarahowritesostucky]

Ultimate Vacation Home: Lloyd

All of your five guys like to take you abroad for short getaways, usually lasting anywhere from 2-5 days. Lloyd is very comfortable in old-world European cities, but his absolute favorite place to get away with you is his house in U.A.E.

Let's start with this: Lloyd is fucking rich, okay?

You're not 100% sure, but you think he does something illegal for work.

He's got the kind of money, and the kind of unwillingness to talk about how he got said money, that suggests to you he is involved with crime for profit in some way. (also, he seems very comfortable with force and violence in a way that lends credence to this theory.)

Whatever it is that he does, it is a high-stress profession, of that you're sure. So his ideal get away is a remote location.

Of anywhere in the world, Lloyd likes to get away with you at his isolated, cliffside estate on the coast of United Arab Emirates.

You'd never really considered U.A.E, before Lloyd. You knew that Dubai was there - a place where rich people often jetted off to, but that's about it.

Lloyd's house is an oasis of luxury, built into a rocky portion of the desolate coastline between Abu Dhabi and Dubai, facing out to the azure waters of the Persian Gulf.

The only practical way to travel there is by private plane or helicopter (of which he has both, along with a small private airfield)

Lloyd loves the combination of luxurious isolation, and being able to take a 5-10 minute plane ride to enjoy a night of partying in the big city.

Lloyd's usual style is quite obnoxious and grandiose: massive fish tanks, lush carpeting, mirrors on the ceiling--that kind of stuff. So you were surprised that his U.A.E. house is so serene and tasteful.

Even still, he's managed to fit in a bunch of outlandish features. Such as the custom-built sunken heated swimming hole in the BEDROOM.

Another thing about staying in the U.A.E. property with Lloyd, is that it is SO remote, that he usually insists the two of you stay completely nude most of the time you're there. You're either naked, or in robes, that's it.

Lloyd's vacations with you tend to be on the shorter of the short side (it isn't uncommon for him to fly you out there on a Friday and fly you home on a Sunday)

And this is probably for the best, as he isn't capable of being consistently nice for much longer than that. He also isn't super gentle in the bedroom. 2-3 full days with Lloyd is about all you want to take in one go.

Besides, he brings you in and sends you out on first class luxury flights, so it's not exactly a pain to do all that flying.

Of all your five guys while on vacation, Lloyd is the only one who hasn't either A. directly asked you to run away with him for good, or B. at least waxed poetic about how he'd like to be with you and only you forevermore.

[yoshirage]

Body Swap Diaries: Tristyn

My sweaty body glisten under the Dubai sun after a hard workout session with my brother Tyler. “Hey bro, I’m gonna go back to the room, are you almost done?”

“You go on ahead, i have some more sets to do.” I said

“Ok Bro! Sounds good” Tyler leaves.

I looked at the mirror and pleased to see the amount of work i have put in this body coming together from my huge social following which i learned from from my past life as a CEO of an advertisement company to my strict workout and diet regiment i learned while winning multiple Olympia as Ronnie Coleman; further pushing away his dreams of being a soccer player ever since i accidentally swapped bodies with him when he was thirteen.

I picked up a barbell to do some curls when i hear a text coming in from Blue. He told me he was coaching this guy named Ryan and was ready to switch to a new body.

Hey shortie, how do you like my new body? the text said with a picture attached

I feel myself hardening. Damn Blue! You really outdid yourself this time!

How about you Cyan? You ready to switch bodies? Now that the body your in is at least 18 years old, you should be able to?

Nah i’ll stay! It was great reliving my high school days and being a kid though experiencing puberty again was a little weird, but now ive been enjoying my large social following and im taking this kid to the top!

Ok Man! Sure! Lets meet up again once you come back to the States.

Ok bro! Nice talking to you!

Standing alone at the hotel’s outside gym, I looked at Blues new body and my 7 inch cock fully hardened as I remembered the times ive fucked him when I was Ronnie and he he was still Jay, and now imagining him moaning like a little bitch in his new body as my hard cock rams his hole and finally cum all over that new pretty boy face of his. The suns ray heating up my body even more as sweat formed as I stroke my cock. I couldn’t hold it much longer as i came all over my phones’s screen covering Blue’s picture with my cum. I breath deeply wiping the cum of my phone and cleaning my self up. I looked at the clock to see that its almost 12:45 pm, and finally leaving the gym to meet up with Tyler and continuing our dubai vacation.

[bandedbulbussnarfblat]

Hi again.😊 I've run into something... odd? when trying to figure out how to fit all twelve years of Devil's Minion into the show timeline. I'd really like your input.

So I'm trying to make sense of Daniel's "kids-and-marriage" timeline. Alice being his first wife and the car seat thing muddies it up for me.

According to gaypiratedivorce's Chronological timeline on Ao3, (found it through your bookmarks, so thank you❤), car seats became mandatory in America in 1986. The excerpt that Louis reads aloud from Daniel's memoir states: "I am in my Buick, staring in the rearview mirror at my daughter in the car seat, (...). My editor reminds me, it's seven years before car seats are mandatory. My ex-wife reminds me, I never owned a Buick." This means his first daughter was born before 1979. Based on Daniel's comment in 01x06, he was 20 years old in 1973, so he must have been a father by the age of 26.

We don't know whether the ex-wife referenced here is Alice or his unnamed second wife, but we do know that one of them must have been around already to remember what cars he owned (and didn't) at this time.

We also aren't given any indication if he was in any relationship with the mother of his eldest child at this time, or ever.

In 02x02 we learn that Alice told Daniel she was pregnant in 1985. From my understanding this was immediately after she had turned down his marriage proposal, so he and Alice are not married at this point. We are told that Alice was his first wife, so the second marriage happens sometime after this.

This makes the minimum age difference between Daniel's two daughters 6 years. His daughters don't appear to have the same mother, since when talking about Alice telling him she was pregnant in 1985, there was no indication that this would be their second child.

By June 2022, when the second interview takes place, he's twice divorced, with two daughters. His oldest daughter would have to be at least 43 years old when he goes to Dubai, and his youngest would be 37-38.

From 1979 to 1985 the only information we have about Daniel is: 1) he was working, (02x05: "I was never so messed up I couldn't hold down a job"); 2) he is not married; 3) timing of irl. law that might not be the one used in the show indicates that he already has a child, but we know nothing about them or their upbringing. Seems unlikely that he was a single father, but we know nothing about the mother.

Thoughts?

Ok, so I have thoughts on this.

Like, first off, I think Armand was full of shit when he said Louis asked him to make him forget what happened in San Francisco. He said Louis asked three days later, after getting out of the shower. And there is no way he was healed up enough to take a shower in three days, even if he was slurping up Armand's blood often. he was only a vampire for 62 years. less than a century. the sun would burn the shit out of him. I think Louis had to do that thing vampires do in the book, and take a power nap for a few years.

Cue Armand being all alone. And he hates that. Plus, he still has to find out what makes Daniel fascinating. He literally said to Daniel in 2x05 'teach me how to be fascinating'. like that may not be the exact wording, but you know what i mean. so he starts to stalk daniel.

daniel, of course, does not remember him bc Armand literally mind-wiped him. all Daniel has is vague memories about being bitten. so maybe Armand goes on his whole 'i won't kill you as long as i find you interesting' bit. or maybe he says something else entirely different or nothing at all. until eventually they start to talk, and debate, and fight, and fall in love.

i think the chase timeline from the books was shortened, and Daniel and Armand were probably in a relationship by like, somewhere in the back half of 74 or the first half of 75. And I think it probably went from zero to sixty pretty fast.

based on what we know so far, we have no info on Daniel publishing anything from 1974-1978. So I think Daniel and Armand could have had a relationship those four years.

then something happens, and they break-up for awhile. (daniel had this thing about leaving then coming back in the books) so maybe during that time he meets Alice. Maybe even gets genuine feelings for her. And then he gets her pregnant sometime in 78, bc the kid is born by 79.

Daniel remembers a car seat. And while car seats weren't required, General Motors did make one in 1969. Here is a picture of what one looked like in 1977:

And most people didn't really start using them to around the late 70s, when different states started making laws. So Daniel could have a car seat in his car in 79. Likely Alice's idea, not his, since he is literally buying drugs from some guy with his daughter in the car with him. Not dad of the year material.

Here's what I think, at some point Daniel's relationships with Alice and Armand overlapped. He remembers being in a Buick with his daughter in the back seat bc he was with Armand in a Buick at some point. Probably not with his daughter, but it could be possible. (There could be some scenario where he's taking care of the baby alone and Armand shows up and they go on a wacky adventure together. But that scenario probably only exists in my imagination.)

I don't believe Louis was aware of their relationship, bc he showed no real signs of remembering something like that. That means that Armand either hid it from him, or made him forget it. Maybe Louis was asleep through the whole thing, and Armand never told him about it.

Or maybe Louis did wake up. And his waking up put pressure on Armand and Daniel's relationship. Bc Armand would have to divide his time between them. Daniel isn't stupid, he probably figures out there's someone else. And maybe he demands that Armand make a choice. And Armand chooses Louis. But he wants to choose Daniel, only Daniel hasn't given him reason to trust him. Like, Daniel having a kid with someone else may have been enough to end the relationship.

I think the relationship with Alice comes after they break-up some time in 78. In the books, when Daniel becomes a vampire, he's 32 and has left Armand for six months. (It's also 1985 there, but roll with it) The longest he ever had. Some maybe he leaves Armand for an extended amount of time. It doesn't have to be six months, but it's probably at least two or three. And during that time he could have met Alice, been having his rebound fling with her. Then she gets knocked up. So you know, he sticks around for the kid. Kinda sorta. Bc he's still seeing Armand. I think that he would have to know about Louis, to bother starting a relationship with someone else. Bc the book says that him leaving is a thing that happens more than once. So maybe the first time he leaves is bc he finds out about Louis, and he meets Alice and knocks her up. Who knows? I think it's been left vague on purpose so they can tweak things as they need to. Or maybe he just takes up with Alice after leaving Armand 'for good'

I'm not entirely clear on the timeline. But I do believe something happened between Armand and Daniel sometime 1974-1978/79. At that point they either break up and Armand erases his memories.

Or their relationship shifts into an affair on both their ends. Like that line about them being secret lovers from the book is taken literally. Daniel has Alice and Armand has Louis. But they can't quit each other, and keep seeing each other secretly. Daniel proposes to Alice in 85 and she says no. Probably bc Daniel was a shitty boyfriend. As one tends to be when they are in love with someone else.

But he likely does propose bc she's pregnant. After he's 'gotten his shit together' I can imagine his not marrying Alice after getting her pregnant the first time is something that could have caused resentment from Alice. Maybe she implied she wanted Daniel to propose before this. Maybe she didn't trust him bc she suspected he was cheating. But I do think that Daniel didn't propose until after he lost his memories of Armand.

So like, somewhere between 78-85 Daniel and Armand break up for the final time. But exactly when I'm not sure.

But I am 100% sure that Armand is going to fuck that old man. They are going to get together. And I will feel that comes from seeing something I've shipped over two decades kiss on screen. Or like, bite each other.

[o0anapher0o]

The prayer scene in ep 4. Once again there is so much going on.

For one it’s the only time we see ‘Rashid’ in a non-professional capacity. In every other scene he’s there as Louis right hand/blood bag; this is the only time we see him not working. Which means there is no immediate practical purpose for it (intradiagetically). In his other scenes Armand is organising/arranging things, keeping an eye on Louis, managing the household/the interview/Daniel’s treatment, making cocktails, guiding Daniel places. There is always a practical and obvious reason to why he is in the room at any given moment. They might not always be particularly good reasons (otherwise he couldn’t just leave at a whim whenever someone isn’t happy for him to be there), but you can bet if asked why he’s there he’d have an answer.

When he’s praying there is no reason at all. There isn’t even a reason for why he would be praying. Even if we assume this version of Armand is a devout Muslim who does pray regularly (for which we have no evidence, nor any against it. Only being brown doesn’t automatically mean he has to be hereditarily Islamic.), why would he do it in the room next to Daniel within hearing range of the old man. Surely he has his own room somewhere in the penthouse where he could go about it undisturbed. And if it’s just a part of the Rashid persona why include it at all. Because Daniel would expect a servant from Dubai to be a devout Muslim? Then why immediately undercut it by admitting he’s not from Dubai (ref back to not all brown people…)?

For some reason he wants Daniel to see him pray. Of course, the obvious answer is to mess with Daniel some more. The thing is though none of the incidents of Louis and Armand messing with Daniel are random. They always fit with the part of the story Louis is telling in that episode. The deliberately disturbing dinner parallels/illustrates Louis’ struggle with vampirism and provides conversational anchor points to his increased struggle with the morality of it all. Louis feeding from Armand at the beginning of ep 5 mirrors Lestat force feeding on Louis at the end.

In that regard I do not believe for a second that it is a coincidence that the episode in which Rashmand starts to become more than ‘guy behind an iPad’ (and starts blatantly flirting with Daniel) is the episode that introduces Claudia.

I do think the praying goes beyond that though. I think it’s also a way of testing Daniel. Hear me out: Asr namozi.

Again I don’t believe for a moment that Armand saying those words with Daniel in the room was an accident. That didn’t just slip out. He said it and looked to Daniel for his reaction. And that reaction is in fact the interesting part. Because I’m calling complete and utter bullshit on Daniel being able to identify the geographic origin of a language he has heard a total two short words in with any precision. Yes, I know Kazakhstan is ginormous but Crimea isn’t (it’s also nowhere near Kazakhstan. At least not anymore than England is near Italy). That’s a pretty specific location.The only way I would believe that someone could do that is if the were an insane polyglot or if they had had significant exposure to that or similar languages. According to Daniel’s official biography he falls into neither category. However, if we assume that official biography includes a couple vampire induces gaps…

It seems like the vampires are constantly testing Daniel’s memories, or rather the ones he shouldn’t have. Two episodes later Louis asks him point black what he remembers of their first meeting. And the Tintoretto conversation in ep 2 could be a similar thing. I wrote in another post how weird I thought it was to use Tintoretto as a reference (especially seeing the dates are off) and someone argued Armand would know that Daniel has the background knowledge to find that reference useful, but the thing is we don’t have a lot of indication that Daniel, as he remembers himself now, would have that knowledge (and I don’t count the puzzle at the beginning as such an indication. Just because you’re doing a jigsaw of a famous painting doesn’t mean you know anything about art. It only means you thought a picture with lots of figures on it would make a good jigsaw. Obviously not counting Daniel’s subconscious decision making here). I could go on a whole other tangent about that scene but this is already way too long.

The TLDR is Armand is praying in that scene because he decided that for some reason Daniel needed to see that and I think at least part of that reason was that he is testing Daniel’s memory, as he and Louis do this in different ways throughout the season (Other instances include ‘remember the best you ever had’, the proposal ice cream and reading from Daniel’s memoir, maybe even ‘I wasn’t sure you’d remember me’. All those refer to points in time that could conceivably have happened during or very close to the Devils Minion timeline. Most of those prod at the memories Daniel has as supposed to the ones that are missing). Which is interesting because it implies they don’t fully know the scope of the memory wipe.

[mariacallous]

One of the world’s most wanted men, a notorious narco kingpin whose gang is implicated in multiple murders, has left a trail of Google reviews providing valuable new insights into his movements and whereabouts over the past five years.

Christopher Kinahan Sr is the head of the notorious Kinahan Organised Crime Group, which originated in Ireland and is otherwise known as the Kinahan Cartel. Irish police believe the gang has amassed profits of over $1 billion through the trade of illegal narcotics, arms trafficking and money laundering over the years.

The US Government is currently offering a collective $15 million bounty for information leading to the financial disruption or arrest of Kinahan and his two sons (Daniel and Christopher Junior). All three are reported to be based in Dubai, which has so far refrained from extraditing the wanted trio. 

Multiple media reports have suggested that Kinahan Sr has sought to reinvent himself in recent years, using his first and middle names “Christopher Vincent” given the notoriety now attached to the Kinahan name. 

Surprisingly, he has left behind a significant digital footprint linked to this identity which has made it possible to gain valuable new insights into his activities and movements.

Kinahan Sr’s LinkedIn account used the Christopher Vincent alias, something that was first identified by Ireland’s Sunday World newspaper in 2022. Now, it appears the owner of an identically named profile has been freely posting his thoughts via Google reviews since 2019. The account boasts of international trips to the likes of Spain, Hungary, Turkey, The Netherlands, Hong Kong, Egypt, Zimbabwe and South Africa. Perhaps less surprisingly, the account has left reviews for a number of establishments in Dubai near to where Kinahan Sr resides. 

Some reviews are short and mundane, such as a comment left for a restaurant in Istanbul in August 2022: “The restaurant is chic and plush, the service was good but not outstanding.” Others, however, reveal interesting clues about his apparent activities in recent years. Some comments detail attending “business networking” conferences in Zimbabwe and of watching a sunset with colleagues in South Africa as they “discussed some business”. Another states Kinahan Sr is a “Platinum Ambassador” on an international hotel group’s reward program. 

No reviews for locations outside of the UAE have been posted since the US wanted notice was announced in April, 2022.

Bellingcat, working with The Sunday Times, was able to confirm the profile was Kinahan Sr’s given an email address associated with the account belonged to him and was connected to a physical address detailed in US sanctions documents. His reflection also appears in windows or mirrors in several of the images posted to the profile.

[cosmicanger]

“NFTs are dead”, is a provocation intended to stimulate reflection on the speed with which trends in the digital art world are perceived by the public. This statement, imbued with provocative immediacy, echoes the dialectic tension inherent in contradiction.

This work, exploring the future of digital art in a world that is constantly changing and whose future is decidedly impactful. The phrase ‘NFTs are dead’ emerges not as a denial but as an incitement, a provocative stimulus pushing us towards the liminal spaces of thought. In this provocation lies a strong principle of contradiction.

The juxtaposition of the ‘death’ of a medium as embryonic as NFTs presents such a striking paradox that it’s like witnessing the birth of a star and declaring it extinguished. In a digital age where even our identities find a mirror existence in bits and bytes, the declaration of death becomes a philosophical conundrum. Contrary to appearances, the textual work is not a critique of the medium, but an invitation to look beyond the horizon of the present.

In a world increasingly dominated by digitalization, where virtually every aspect of our lives from communication to identity finds its parallel in the digital realm, it’s almost unthinkable that art, a fundamental expression of human experience, wouldn’t embrace this transformation. This move to digital mediums, especially evident in the rise of NFTs (Non-Fungible Tokens), marks a significant shift in how we conceive and interact with art.

The concept of this work was first introduced by Skygolpe during his solo show at FOUNDRY in Dubai, 15.11.23 / 07.01.24.