#carpet cleaning tools

[dashmeshpowerloom]

Carpet Weaving Machine Manufacturers

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[luxshine-professional]

Our excellent house cleaning services to have a clean, tidy home. Trust in our skilled staff for extensive and reasonably priced cleaning services. Make a reservation

[clean-splash]

Residential Window Cleaning Services - Brighten Your Home Today!

Enhancing Your Home with Residential Window Cleaning Services

Windows are not just functional; they enhance the aesthetics and comfort of your living space. Clean windows allow natural light to brighten rooms and provide a clear view of the outdoors. However, regular maintenance is essential to keep them sparkling and free from dirt and grime.

When it comes to maintaining a clean and welcoming home, residential window cleaning service plays a crucial role alongside specialized services like carpet stain removal and autism screening tools.

Benefits of Professional Residential Window Cleaning

Improved Curb Appeal: Clean windows significantly enhance the exterior appearance of your home, creating a positive first impression.

Enhanced Indoor Lighting: Clean windows maximize natural light penetration, reducing the need for artificial lighting during the day and creating a brighter, more inviting atmosphere.

Prolonged Lifespan: Regular cleaning prevents dirt and debris buildup that can etch into glass over time, potentially causing damage and reducing the lifespan of your windows.

Healthier Environment: Removing dust, pollen, and other allergens from window surfaces improves indoor air quality, benefiting the health of your family.

Specialized Services Offered by Clean Splash

In addition to residential window cleaning, Clean Splash provides expert services tailored to meet specific household needs:

Carpet Stain Removal Melbourne

Carpets are a common flooring choice in many homes, offering warmth and comfort. Carpet Stain Removal Melbourne, they are susceptible to stains from spills, pets, and everyday wear and tear. Clean Splash employs advanced techniques and eco-friendly solutions to effectively remove stubborn stains without damaging carpet fibers. Whether it’s a recent spill or a set-in stain, their professional team ensures your carpets look as good as new.

Autism Screening Tools and Autism Screening Test

Understanding and supporting individuals with autism spectrum disorder (ASD) requires specialized knowledge and tools. Clean Splash recognizes the importance of creating a safe and inclusive environment for all clients, including those requiring autism screening. They offer reliable screening tools and tests to facilitate early detection and intervention, ensuring individuals receive the support they need to thrive.

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Environmental Responsibility: By utilizing eco-friendly cleaning products, Clean Splash minimizes environmental impact while maintaining high standards of cleanliness.

Conclusion

Investing in professional residential window cleaning services not only enhances the appearance of your home but also contributes to a healthier and more comfortable living environment. Clean Splash goes beyond traditional cleaning services by offering specialized solutions like carpet stain removal and autism screening tools, catering to diverse household needs with professionalism and care.

[flamagenitus]

The internet in my accommodation went out three times today and as a result I have cleaned my studio and begun a creative project I've wanted to do for nearly a year. Concerned about what that says of my daily habits

[toolreview68]

Steam cleaners are great for cleaning carpets because they use heat to kill germs, bacteria, and allergens that cause allergies in your home. They also use steam to loosen dirt and grime from your carpets so it is easier to remove them with a damp cloth.

[serviceerw]

Wet and Dry Vacuum NZ | Vacuum Cleaners Auckland | NZ Cleaning Supplies

Vacuum cleaners auckland - Window cleaning equipment nz — Are you looking for top-of-the-line window cleaning equipment, soap dispensers, sugar soaps, and other cleaning products? NZ Cleaning Supplies is your one-stop shop for all your needs! Our selection of high-quality products can help you save time and money when it comes to cleaning windows and other surfaces. We have the best selection of window cleaners and carpet cleaning machines to get the job done quickly and efficiently. With our team of experienced Auckland commercial cleaners, we guarantee

[redflagshipwriter]

Hot Ghouls in Your Area

Chapter 1

“A cult?” Jason blew out a bubble and enjoyed the disgusted face that Bruce made.

“Yes.” His voice was tight. Jason could tell that he wanted to turn back to the Batcomputer. “They’re operating in Park Row-”

“Crime Alley.”

Batman sighed and accepted the correction. “I would like to propose a joint operation.” He sounded so tired and not very optimistic.

Jason eyed up his on-again-off-again Father figure and popped his gum, thinking it over. Bruce clearly expected him to say no, fuck off, and take the information himself.

He could. There was nothing wrong with that.

“Sure, old man.” He clapped Bruce on the shoulder and finished screwing together the tool he’d brought in for maintenance. He’d had to fabricate a new part and the Red Hood didn’t exactly have the equipment for that in his two room apartment. “Thursday night alright?”

“They’ve a planned meeting on Wednesday, actually,” Bruce said, frowning slightly at him but looking soft around the eyes with confused hope. “Would that be possible? They seem to gather mid-week.”

Jason let out a sigh. “I can make it work. Ta, old man.” He made sure to toss off an especially insouciant salute as he sauntered away. Sure, he was willing to put a little effort into maintaining their relationship, but he couldn’t be too compliant. If you gave Bruce an hour of your time, he wrote you down on the schedule for an hour every day until one of you fuckin’ died in a warehouse explosion. Something like that.

He wasn’t that trusting, though. Jason took the information that Bruce emailed him and did his own legwork. He wasn’t stubborn enough to bother redoing digital work that Bruce had done or gotten from Babs. That would be a waste of his time, and he valued his time. But he scoped out the cult’s meeting place.

Of all the undignified things, it was a rented room in the community center. Jason found himself sheepishly breaking into the office to check on the reservation and poking around the room itself.

There was nothing special about it. It was a shitty room with shitty paneled walls and cheap, well-trodden grey carpet. It boasted a few too many tables, arranged in a U shape, and a whiteboard pushed up against the wall that hadn’t been cleaned off well enough to erase what he was pretty sure was a reference to their lord and savior, destroyed of worlds.

So. That was a point for Bruce’s cult thing.

He hadn’t really doubted it, if he was honest, given that this had originated in a tip from Zatanna. She had told him as a courtesy that some creep had moved their base of recruiting and operations into Gotham.

Apparently, recruitment was going pretty well. The room could seat like, twenty? Jason counted chairs and left.

He came back on Wednesday at 8pm with the Batman and an attempt at a good attitude. He probably wasn’t going to need any of the weapons on his person. They were going to check in so that this guy knew they had an eye on him and that he would be suspect number one if there was any hint of people or cats being sacrificed.

Bruce fucked off to peer in the windows, like the giant caped creep he was. Jason took the front door, nodded congenially at the old man in the office, and knocked at the room the cultists had reserved.

He could hear Bruce internally curse through the comm. It was silent, of course, but the quality of the silence changed. “Knock knock,” he called, since a literal knock hadn’t done it. He opened the door without waiting. “Just checking in, heard you’re new to town and that you tried to feed Zatanna’s shitty little cousin to the god of Death?”

The room stared at him. A whiteboard marker squeaked to a stop. He idly followed the sound to the board. A …. Huh. that looked like some kind of mystical bullshit.

“You’ve been touched by death,” said the fraud himself, a man in his fifties with a wildly pretentious robe that was wrinkled from the paper bag he’d clearly used to carry it in. He outstretched the hand that didn’t have a blue whiteboard marker in it. “You would be a perfect sacrifice to our Lord.”

“So will it be,” said about half the people there, at the same time a young woman said, “No shit?” in an impressed tone.

Jason rolled his eyes through the helmet, unintimidated by the room of weirdos standing up. The kind of people who gathered at a community center on a Wednesday night were not going to summon the God of Death. Light glinted off the window where Batman was clearly weighing the possibility of breaking glass and swinging in. Jason silently waved him off with a headshake. They weren’t to the point of property damage yet. He took a couple of steps into the room with deliberate swagger. “What a lucky guess,” he drawled. “The Red Hood has had brushes with death? No one but a legitimate prophet could possibly make such a statement.”

“I’m not a prophet,” said the man, and turned back to his white board. “I’m a devote.” He rubbed out a line with the meat of his hand and then hurriedly wrote in ‘The Red Hood’ in a tilted cursive. “The sacrifice!” he shouted, throwing his arms wide and accidentally making a big blue line through his evil little sigil or whatever it was. The elderly lady to Jason’s right opened up her bag, thrust her hand in, and came up with a fistful of -

“Salt?” Jason asked, confused and unimpressed as the silly twit threw her handful of salt at him. “Thanks, I’m better seasoned now,” he snarked. He pulled out a gun easily. “Alright, let’s get serious. I-”

The whiteboard was glowing. The blue letters were glowing green.

“What the fuck?” Jason said. The windows exploded with broken glass as Batman decided now was the time to make his entrance. He barely got to see it before something hooked unpleasantly on his body and soul and twisted it sideways.

The world was green now. Holy shit. Jason spun a circle on uneven ground and gaped. “...Egg on my face,” he said. “I’ve been sacrificed. Consider me embarrassed.” A quick check showed that his comm was useless. It was giving off a steady little eeee of static that kinda sounded like screams. Whimsical. Jason turned it off.

He wasn’t panicking yet. The void wasn’t that freaky. It was weird, sure, but there weren’t any demons or enemies. He flicked the safety off his favorite gun just in case and frowned into the darkness.

It was like he was standing under a spotlight with no light source. There was ambient lighting in all directions, but the world faded into darkness only a few dozen feet away. He took some experimental steps to determine that, yeah, the field of visibility traveled with him.

Well. Time to get moving. Jason walked. There was nothing for the first - hour, he was gonna call it an hour. He got antsy and started jogging. The green stretched on, placid and infinite in a way that was really starting to piss him off. “Hey!” Jason barked into the void. “Anyone there?”

There was an answering electronic whirr. He stopped in his tracks. Jason looked in every direction, including up, and only saw the fucking thing when it was basically on top of him.

The vehicle was probably most equivalent to a spaceship, he decided, as what was probably a 3-man craft at most parked. The top clicked. It opened from the top and someone bounded out. “Hey!” came an annoyed male voice. “What’s the deal, bud?” The stranger landed in front of Jason with crossed arms and a pissy expression. His white hair floated above his head as if he was the little fucking mermaid in the ocean.

Jason scowled, the back of his mind cataloging the other guy’s outfit as pristine and undamaged and his musculature as athletic. “What’s it to you?” he asked, defensive. He didn’t know if it was safe to give information to this guy. “I might be a little lost,” Jason conceded.

“A little lost,” the guy repeated, and then- okay, he flew in a weird little flippy circle, scowling all the while as Jason gaped. “A little lost.” He scoffed. Then he let out a sigh that made his whole body look smaller. He uncrossed his arms and ran a hand through his hair. “This is a weird question,” he said, making it sound more defensive than apologetic. “Did you uh.” He scowled, like the words were distasteful. “Look,” he tried again. “Are you delulu, or did you get caught up as the sacrificial bride? I told Frank to knock that shit off.”

Sacrificial bride. Jason felt his brain go offline for a moment. Say what now.

“Helloooo,” the… was this rando a god of death? He was impatient. He flew way up into Jason’s personal space and snapped his fingers. “Someone just smashed metal trash bins together at my grave to get my attention, basically. No, it’s more like one of those spam pop ups that says there’s hot girls in your area?” He made a gesture at Jason. “Only it’s loud. It’s ringing in my ears, and I had to come track you down. Do you think this is funny?”

“...Sacrificial bride?” Jason finally managed to croak out.

Weirdly, this made the other guy relax immediately. “Just found out, huh,” he said, sounding much more sympathetic. “Yeah, okay, we need to sort out a spiritual divorce immediately. And then you can go home and there will be no more hot girls in my area and I can get back to my ess- my work.”

Jason took a few moments of grief and confusion to accept his apparent status. “We’re married?” he said weakly.

The white haired man looked a little sheepish. “Marriage is probably not quite accurate,” he said, and Jason felt a little bit of relief before the guy continued, “It’s more like you’re my concubine?” He sounded mortified by this. “I didn’t want this!”

“No, no,” Jason said, meaning both that he believed it and that he needed this conversation to change directions immediately. “I- who are you?” He gestured at his– what the fuck was the other side of a concubine relationship? King was the associated word that came up, but that…

“I’m nobody, really,” said the white haired man weakly. “But I may technically be King of ghosts or whatever. The Infinite Realms.” He scratched at his face. “So… yeah.”

They stood in utterly mortified silence for a long moment before he seemed to remember something. “You can call me Danny,” he offered.

“...Call me Jason,” he said.

“Thanks, Jason,” Danny said genially. “So, uh, this is a mess, right?” He started floating away backwards. “I’m going to hunt down my mentor and advisor and get some uh- advice, I guess. Do you wanna come with? Or should I come back and check in once I’ve heard from him?”

Jason weighed up his situation, the conventional wisdom about getting in vehicles with strange men, and wondered how useless his gun was going to be in this situation. Danny had never reacted to it being pointed at him, so his guess was ‘utterly unhelpful’. He put it away. “I’d like a ride, thanks,” he said dryly.

They made some stilted conversation on the ride. Danny was clearly trying to hold back and give him no identifying information. That was fascinating, because it implied that there was something Jason could do from the human world to track Danny down. It was also reassuring because there was no reason to withhold information if he’d planned to keep Jason prisoner, so, ya know, that was a good sign.

Anyway, Jason got a lot of information from Danny.

Danny was a terrible liar and he misspoke like, all the time. Jason was pretty sure he was in the ghost equivalent of school, like college or something. He talked like someone in Jason’s age group would, so he’d probably died very recently. Maybe he had been a college student when he’d died and he just hadn’t given up on that degree yet, honestly. Jason managed to drag the conversation around to education. He got nowhere with asking about literature but he hit the jackpot with science. Danny was still babbling about a telescope when he landed the …ship outside of a wonky clocktower.

Jason took off his safety belt and froze in his tracks when Danny absently stopped him with a cool hand. Jason looked down at that hand.

“You had better stay here,” Danny said. He shook his head slightly. “Clocky doesn’t like everyone.”

He melted into the chair as if he had never wanted to get up. “Alright,” Jason said.

Danny was out of the spaceship by the time that Jason realized something was very wrong with that interaction.

He hadn’t decided to sit down. He hadn’t wanted to sit back down. Did- did he actually think it was reasonable to stay behind, or would he have argued and gone in normally?

‘...I think Danny did something.’ Suspicion swirled in his gut. Jason tried to take the safety belt off and stand up. He couldn’t. It was like his muscles wouldn’t respond to it.

Well, that was pretty fuckin’ evil. His pulse picked up in his throat. It… It was some kind of compulsion? He had to do what Danny told him to do? That was really fucked up. He was starting to feel really unsafe now. He wished he’d hung back with Bruce. He wanted someone to bring him home. And weirdly, he felt betrayed. He hardly trusted Danny, didn’t know the fucker well enough to, but he hadn’t gotten that impression off the guy–

‘It wasn’t him,’ Jason realized. ‘It was the binding ritual. Danny said it wasn’t like a marriage, it’s not equal. That’s why I did what Danny wanted me to do.’

Well. Well then. If Danny didn’t know that Jason had to follow his orders, Jason was most fucking certainly not going to spell it out for him. It was a grim calculation to make, but it seemed the safest. As it was, Danny seemed to want to get rid of him as fast as possible.

So that was it. He’d play along and get Danny to spit him back out into Gotham, a young hot divorcé free on the streets.

[nymphea0]

Until Death My Love

Part 3.

Yandere Husband X Wife Reader

Warning : violence, gore , mention of corpses, blood , guns and ciggarette.

Very long story, might have bad grammar,correct me if there are any mistakes in the words in the story I wrote.I hope you all enjoys my story . Last Chapter will came out, so stay always love.- Neva 🦋🦋

Word Count Around : 1593 Word

Story Part 1 : Until Death My Love

Story Part 2 : Until Death My Love

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Still at basement you only with yourself choose something that might make yourself regret.

However, your heart and mind are at odds which ends up you standing in front of the white door.

Swallowing your saliva roughly, you open the door slowly, the door opens and creates a sound that really disturbs your soul.

A foul odor can be smelled in your breath, this smell you are not sure what smell is even more smelly than a dead animal?.

The room was dimly lit yellow, when you entered the room, the walls of the room were decorated with many photos of yourself, from photos of yourself at school, at your house before you married Alex, and photos of yourself sleeping.

You were very shocked to see what you had just seen, covering your mouth and walking backwards only to feel a collision with an object hanging from the ceiling of the house platform.

Turning your body, you screamed softly looking in disbelief, falling slowly and retreating in fear behind the table that you accidentally hit.

There were 2 familiar faces that you often met, 1 was the gardener who always greeted you in the morning when you walked leisurely to breathe the fresh morning air.

The man, hanging upside down with a lot of blood dripping on his body, with his mouth agape and eyes bulging with wide fear.

You always believed that the garden man quit his job because he wanted to get married as Alex told you, only to see the man already died miserably there.

Then there was another man whose condition was even worse than the garden man, he was the driver who always took you to and from wherever you went somewhere.

You always knew that this man tried to flirt with you every time you went out, until because you couldn't stand it, you told Alex about your worries, Alex only responded with a smile and patted your head gently and said he would transfer the driver to another job.

You always believed Alex's words, but you didn't know that .... the man didn't change jobs but died.

Because you couldn't stand what you saw anymore, you ran out of the room, closed the door roughly, ran with all your soul while carrying the broom that you always held.

You even almost fell when climbing the stairs, when you reached the surface, you closed the wooden door roughly and put the carpet in the opposite direction.

With a strong push while trying to catch your breath, you close the bookshelf, and miraculously, the previously bent lamp returns to its original position.

Bringing the cleaning tools, you unlocked Alex's room, then you went out and ran fast towards your room leaving the cleaning tools in the hallway outside Alex's office.

Opening the door roughly, you entered your room and Alex's, there you saw your maid, Roana cleaning the bedroom window.

With a gasp you fell to your knees on the floor, Roana who was shocked stopped cleaning the window and approached you and asked if you were okay?

You who were too scared and nauseous just ignored it and Roana who was silent as if the woman knew what had just happened to you.

"Lady , did ... did you see that room?"

Very quickly you looked at Roana while glaring in surprise, while the woman, she just sighed and spoke tremblingly.

"Lady, you have to get away from Mr. Alex, he will kill you once he finds out that you entered the room."

With a slow shudder you just shook your head not sure about the plan.

Roana just took you to sit on the nearest chair and said something you never knew.

Roana said that Alex, the man you love, your husband, is a mafia from the underworld mafia association, a very scary power under Alex's leadership.

At first you tried to deny it but Roana said that this was the truth, Alex your husband, is a Mafia from the biggest mafia family in the underworld, the Hungry Lion, Arceint.

Roana tremblingly said that anyone who dares to enter Alex's secret room, whoever it is even including his wife, namely you, will die at his hands.

Roana only thought that you had read the important documents stored there, Roana didn't know that you saw something even worse than a document.

Panickingly you asked what you should do. Roana only said you have to leave this residence, just take important things like money and identity cards, leave your cellphone and clothes.

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That night, exactly the 2nd day has arrived after Alex went on his business trip for 5 days, you went away from the residence where you made love with Alex for 2 years.

Accompanied by Roana, the woman sympathized with you, married to a mafia who faked his identity and was not allowed to work and do this and that seemed to be just a display wife, Roana felt that your life was very sad and she tried to help you leave.

"Lady, promise me you won't look back okay? You have to live happily".

That night by taking a taxi you left your house and Alex.

But unfortunately you didn't know that, that night was the last time you saw Roana alive.

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The best quality leather shoes had just come out and touched the row of steps of a private jet.

Alexandrovic reigent had just arrived at the airport, the man couldn't wait to meet his wife again, his wife who was so cute, weak and also he loved very much was waiting for him at home.

Alex couldn't wait to kiss you, hug you and eat you until you couldn't think anymore and only thought about him and him alone.

Humming softly, he entered the black sedan and drove towards the house.

With the sight of a large pitch black gate decorated with a lion statue on each gate, the black sedan entered the residence.

Coming out with a happy look, Alex walked with steady steps where all the servants and guards bowed respectfully at Alex's return from his work.

This was beyond expectations, they thought that Alex would return on the 5th day, but not even the 5th day Alex had returned.

Entering the house, Alex realized your absence. Walking slowly towards the room, while smiling a little, thinking that you were his little wife was sleeping, only to see that it was empty.

Searching all over the house, Alex still couldn't find you.

There was only 1 room that he hadn't explored, his study, entering his study, the place was clean and tidy, Alex guessed that you cleaned the room.

With steady steps, Alex looked around and towards the bookshelf hoping to find you there, but unfortunately not.

Until something made Alex stop walking, a purple flower hair clip plated with gold fell right between the basement doors that he hid from you.

Kneeling slowly and picking up the hair clip, very quickly, Alex pulled the lever that was disguised as a light and roughly opened the cupboard shelf only to find a black carpet that was used to cover the wooden door on the floor in an upside down position.

With a stifled annoyance Alex could tell that you had seen the room that was the ground, including the white door.

With quick steps alex shouted angrily and called all the servants and also the house guards

"I pay you to work serving and prevent my wife from knowing about that room"

With his hand pointing up alex fired a gun in the air making the servants scared and the guards could only be silent.

"But look at what you all did, you are incompetent and unable to protect my wife by letting her leave this residence ?!"

"Do you still want to live?"

With great anger alex fired his shot towards one of the guards who bowed towards him, the poor man fell to the floor covered in blood.

"Come forward .... I know that one of you is helping my wife, come forward or I will speed up your deaths"

With the gun pointed at all of them, the servants panicked as did the guards.

Roana who felt this was her fault for asking you to leave the residence could only surrender and move forward.

Only to get a kick in the stomach.

"You, a country woman, dare to make my precious thing disappear? I think you really want to die, right? Then I will make your dream come true"

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That night, the reigent residence was accompanied by the sound of thunder and thundering rain, decorating the atmosphere of the house with the screams of a woman begging for mercy and also the sound of a gun.

That night was a night of hell for Roana, the servant who always faithfully served you.

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A tall man with black hair standing in his room study, facing out the large French window, accompanied by the sound of thunder and rain.

Alex, the man smoked nicotine in a peaceful state, but with a different heart.

With a soft voice and his crazy psychotic smile, Alex spoke

"Run my dear, run, hide, don't stop hiding, until when I catch you, don't expect to ask for forgiveness from me, my dear wife, because I, Alexandrovic Reigent Arceint will never let go of what is already mine"

Accompanied by the sound of thunder, Alex laughed psychotically with his hand holding a cigar. While imagining what punishment would be suitable for his little wife who was busy running away from her husband.

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©️Nymphea0 2024 , OG story . Project Dark Romance Story 1.

*Source image: pinterest

Please dont steal my work, or use without my permissions , Always be good people Dear. Much love , Neva🦋🦋.

@snowflakes666 @elleflying07 @cannyyyyy @f1sheeee

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Chapter 5 - Popped, Cool, and Ready to Go

Series Masterlist

Author's Note: If you want to picture me writing any part of this series, picture someone maniacally giggling to themselves the words “this is a surprise tool that will help us later” as they type. Chapter Title from Stand Up by The Revivalists.

Word Count: 9k...

Chapter Summary/Warnings: An opportunity to flip Sister Sage emerges. Contains usual tags.

Read on A03!

Chapter 4 - Chapter 6

Want to be tagged? Just ask!

“Everything is… disturbingly clean.”

Ben watched Cocksucker and Butcher in the living room, the former looking around in shock as the latter’s gaze bounced between Ben and Her with a half grin.

“Don’t tell me you two started bloody fucking,” he jeered, and Ben didn’t appreciate the speed at which She scoffed.

“Not everyone only thinks with their downstairs brain, Butcher.” She said with an eye roll. “We’re not children you had to put in a time out until we could play nice, we’re adults who found a common ground.”

“The common ground of fucking?” Butcher’s grin spread widely across his face. At the deepening of her glare, he raised his hands in mock surrender. “I don’t doubt you, Love, it’s Soldier Boy who can’t damn well breathe without his dick in something.”

Ben opened his mouth to defend himself, but She somehow beat him to the draw. “Well, Ben’s down to only trying to fuck me twice a day, and it’s the small victories like that which have kept us from killing each other.”

“Ben?” Cocksucker looked between them in befuddled horror. “Since when do you call him Ben?!”

She returned Cocksucker’s stare with a flat look Ben had seen many times and was glad to not currently be on the receiving end of. “It’s his name. I can’t say ‘Soldier Boy’ all the time, that’s a fucking mouthful.”

“Fuck yeah, it is.” Ben winked at Her, a cocky grin spreading across his face as he was met with only an eye roll.

Butcher chuckled, giving Her an amused smirk. “Not fucking, my puckered arsehole.” He paused, his teeth showing as his delight in his own words grew. “Or should I say, your puckered arsehole?”

Cocksucker choked on air. “I’m going to be sick.”

“If he throws up on the carpet, you can not make me clean it, Sunshine.” Ben snapped, eyeing Cocksucker with a grimace. “His weak, pussy stomach ain’t my problem.”

“Oh, I’m sure there’s been worse messes in this room.” Butcher wiggled his eyebrows, and Cocksucker gagged again.

“There’s not much left after to clean,” Ben said with another smug look, unable to find it in him to care how his words fueled the accusations She so clearly wanted to rebuff. She’d live, and all the bitchiness she wielded like a weapon would hopefully circle around into admitting the clear attraction he knew she felt.

“What, you all dried up after forty years asleep?” Butcher sneered.

Ben scowled, taking a rough step in the man’s direction, the drum in his chest abruptly sounding in the distance of his ears. “You want to say that to my fucking face? I’ll show you how dried up I am—fuck!“ He lurched back as he felt a sharp sting on his arm.

She appeared at the side of Ben’s vision, Her fingers still smoking as she pointed at Butcher. “You. Never, ever make me visualize that again.” She scrunched her face in dramatic disgust. “And you.” She turned the finger to Ben. “He did ‘say it to your face’, stop being such a fucking baby. And both of you need to repeat everything you think in your head before you say it. We get it, your dicks are both huge, either suck each other off or put them away.”

“I second that,” Cocksucker mumbled, residual nausea on his face. “The shutting up thing, not the other part.”

“Thank you, Hughie. Now.” She gave Butcher a titled-head frown. “What’s the mission.”

“Don’t have to be a mission, Love, we could just be checking up on our two favorite-“

“Shut up,” She snapped. “Nobody has come to visit in two and a half weeks. And then, just after the news about Sister Sage, you two are suddenly, and I’m sure completely coincidentally, in our living room. So, what’s the mission?”

“How do you know about Sage?” Cocksucker, matching the surprise on Butcher’s face, asked.

“I have a phone, dummy.”

Ben looked around the room, trying to figure out where She could’ve possibly hidden a phone from him. “No, we fucking don’t.” He narrowed his eyes at Her, suspicion building in his chest as anger clouded his head. “Have you been fucking leaving without me?”

“When would I even have the time to leave without you?” She snapped.

“When you go to the fucking bathroom all the damn time for no fucking reason. If you’ve been lying to me-“

“Jesus Christ, I was on my period the past week. You can come do an inspection of the toilet bowl next time if it’s that important to you.”

“Fucking,” Butcher faked coughed to poorly cover his words. Ben was sure a deaf baby would’ve still have understood them, and She certainly did.

“Can it,” She shot at Butcher before turning back to Ben. “Phones aren’t big blocks on walls anymore, grampa, they look like this.” She pulled out a weird black rectangle and waved it in his face. “And you’ve definitely seen one before, dumbass.”

If Ben thought back, admittedly not even that hard, he had. Cocksucker and Butcher had both used them the first time around, he’d spotted them in the shows and movies he had been making their way through at Her direction, and even seen Her using the one invading his personal space at that very moment. However, he’d known he’d eat a fucking whale dick before he asked Her what they were then, in the exact same way he was now going have to pretend that She was the stupid one trying to pull one over on him.

“I think I remember if I’d seen something that fucking dumb looking, Sunshine.” She just glared at him and turned away, so Ben decided to count that as a him victory.

“If one of you doesn’t tell me what the plan is now-“

“Don’t get your panties in a twist, Love, we’re getting there. Hughie?”

“Gross,” Cocksucker muttered, his scrunched face of disgust turning into shock as Butcher pushed him forward. “What! Why me?”

“You use all those posh fancy words, mate.”

“He hates me!” Cocksucker gestured to Ben, before saying Her name in a pathetically begging tone. “He made you do it last time, right?! Tell Butcher he doesn’t fucking listen to me!”

Ben grinned as She gave Cocksucker one of the most half-assed apologetic looks Ben had ever seen. “I mean, he doesn’t. But I wouldn’t call him Butcher’s biggest fan either.”

“I’m right fucking here,” Ben grumbled. “I can speak for my damn fucking self.”

She gave him a sarcastic, simpering smile. “Ben, do you like Hughie, or Butcher? Is one prettier? Would one of them talking be better than the other?”

“No, they’re both ugly, pussy ass idiots who sound just as fucking boring as their pussy ass counterpart.”

“Who’s acting like who’s not here now?”

“We don’t sound the same at all…”

She ignored Butcher’s snark and Cocksucker’s weak protest. “Lovely. So if someone could answer my fucking question, that would be great. I, personally, couldn’t give a flying fuck who.”

Cocksucker sighed. “What did you read about the Sister Sage situation?”

“Is someone going to tell me who ‘Sister Sage’ is?” Ben grunted, giving Her an expectant look. Right now his best guess was some nun with plant-based powers, and he couldn’t think of a damn way that would be helpful.

“She's a supe whose power is intelligence. She’s the smartest person in the world, and a member of Homelander’s team.” She wrinkled her nose. “Well, she was. She got fired. I saw Vought’s press release about ‘creative differences’, but it’s painfully obvious bullshit. She made one appearance on TV where she spoke five words, most of the time she’d just hovering behind Homelander looking mad.”

“Yeah, we think she made Homelander upset somehow, which isn't hard to do, so he cut her loose.” Cocksucker nodded. “Either way, we want to try and talk to her. Flip her. Or-“

“Uncle Sam here is going to neutralize her.” Butcher spoke over Cocksucker with a smirk at Ben.

“Neutralize?” She looked between them with wide eyes. “Neutralize as in kill, or neutralize as in remove her powers?”

Butcher winked. “We’ll see where the night takes us. You two have fifteen to get ready, chop chop.”

She began to make her way up the stairs, but Ben remained firmly where he stood, glaring his best daggers at Butcher. “You better have brought my fucking shield this time.”

“What, you going to start crying if we didn’t?” Butcher jeered, and before Ben could move to punch him in the face, Cocksucker piped up from the side.

“Annie and MM are getting it now, they’ll meet us there.”

Butcher grunted in annoyance at Cocksucker’s affirming words, but Ben ignored it and turned to examine Cocksucker’s increasingly pallid face. His heartbeat was rising, yes, but it didn’t seem to be because he was lying, more likely the pussyfuck was just afraid. “Good,” Ben grunted, pausing to listen for a relieved stutter in Cocksucker’s chest. At the sound, Ben turned and marched up the stairs.

He wasn’t sure how it had happened, because he certainly hadn’t done it, but Ben’s suit had been cleaned of the dust and dirt from its last use. It was folded semi-neatly in his dresser, on top of underwear and socks. It was a quick change, he remembered being incredibly instant to the designer all those years ago that any needless, bullshit complications would lead to a forcerful reiterment and be fixed by their replacement, and made his way down the hall to Her door. He paused, unsure of if he should knock or simply walk in. He’d never knocked before, and She’d never bitched at him about it, but she’d also made it incredibly clear that, if he saw her naked, she’d “claw out his eyes like Jesus”. He’d asked for elaboration, in a way he thought had been quite fucking polite, and She’d left the room only to return a minute later with a copy of the Bible that was hurled at his head. Ben had not bothered to read it, but he quite liked his eyes, as did most women, so he had no interest in losing them to one impressively violent and crude one. However, knocking was also plain fucking stupid. As such he found himself just standing at the door, all the way until She opened the door and jumped back at the sight of him.

“Fuck, Ben, you scared me.” She’d placed a hand over her chest, fucking over dramatically if you asked Ben, and stared up at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he muttered. “I was just waiting for you.” And he fucking had been. Originally, the plan that had brought him here was to make fun of Her for clearly cleaning his suit and certainly going through his underwear drawer, now it just felt fucking stupid. She’d just caught him standing outside her room, she had too much ammunition to use against him now.

She tilted her head at him, giving Ben a look he didn’t understand or like, but just nodded. “Well, I’m ready. We should go.”

He nodded, stepping aside for her to pass him. She blinked at him a moment before doing such, and only after she was starting down the stairs did it occur to him that he’d let her go first. She hadn’t even asked. But she would’ve, he reasoned. He’d just been saving the headache of Her whining about it. Really, it had been a calculated move from his subconscious, which hated her finding every nerve of Ben’s to get on just as much as the rest of him.

Butcher and Cocksucker were right where they’d left them when Ben reached the bottom of the stairs, and She made her way to Ben’s side as they exited the safe house. Her body was less rigid and alert than last time, her heart almost perfectly calm, and though her eyes didn’t once leave him, she wasn’t vigilantly scanning his every twitch as they walked to the car. Even this car ride was more relaxed than the last, with Butcher not checking on them every damn second in the mirror, Cocksucker looking less like he was about to shit his damn pants, and Her body comfortably in the seat and not curled into the door. Ben appreciated that it was a real, windowed car this time, because that stupid fucking van had been deafening and fucking stuffy and boring to sit in. This satisfaction was squashed almost immediately when they pulled up to a warehouse that looked one fucking well-placed shit from collapsing, and Ben saw that same stupid fucking van parked beside where they stopped.

The back doors were open, and Ben could hear four moderately steady heartbeats from inside it. As they unloaded out of the car and made their way to join the others, Ben watched Her out of the corner of his eye, hearing the telltale warning sign of gnawing on lips and tapping of fingers in rhythmic movements. He’d noticed last week, then had his suspicion confirmed during their fight a few nights ago, that all her rapid, tense tapping was still controlled, always following the same pattern. For the fucking life of him, Ben couldn’t figure out what the pattern was, but he knew it existed, and it always went hand in hand with glassy eyes. Sure enough, when he turned to fully look at Her, clouds were forming behind her gaze, which had itself gone slightly slack. But before Ben could grab Her, ask her what the fucking problem was, if it was something he needed to worry about, She’d walked past him to sit beside beside the small, Asian woman he’d seen several times before. The woman smiled at Her, and she returned it without hesitation. She said a name, Kimiko, in a soft, kind voice Ben had never heard and though Kimiko didn’t say anything—thinking about it Ben hadn’t heard her speak once—the tapping slowed to a halt as they began a weird half-conversation with a lot of confusing fucking gestures.

Ben glanced around the van, looking for his fucking shield. When he didn’t see it, he turned to glare at Butcher, who’d moved to talk to MM.

“Hey!” Ben pushed himself into their conversation, ignoring their whiny glares. “You promised my fucking shield.”

Butcher rolled his eyes. “Technically, Hughie promised it.”

“Where is it.”

“Calm the fuck down, Gov, I’m sure it’s here somewhere. MM, would you give the giant cunt his stupid shield?”

“Nope.”

Ben’s head whipped to glare at the man, who wasn’t even fucking acknowledging him. “Give me my fucking shield.”

“Can’t,” MM said, meeting Ben’s glare with an angry, cold one of his own. “Didn’t fucking bring it.”

“I was promised I’d get my shield back. If you pussies can’t get it, I’m certain I could fine someone who will.” Ben threatened, the drums starting to sound once more. “I don’t have to put up with bullshit-“

“Yeah, you do,” Her voice called from behind him.

Ben turned to look at her, and saw Butcher and MM do the same.

“This doesn’t concern you, Sunshine.” Ben snapped.

She just shrugged. “You want a private conversation? Lower your fucking voice. And I feel like any conversation where you start saying you’re going to leave does concern me, because I’m the one that’s going to have to smite your face when you try. And that’s just going to be a fucking bummer.”

“My face too nice to burn?” He taunted, barely noticing the fade of the pounding against his chest.

“No, I just would have to fill out a fuck ton of dogshit CIA paperwork after. So just suck up being away from your blankie for another week, and sit the hell down.”

“I don’t have a fucking blankie,” Ben scowled at Her, but she only smiled back at him and returned her attention to Kimiko.

“You heard her,” Butcher sneered from behind him. “Listen to your mommy and sit the fuck down.”

“Don’t make it weird, Butcher.” She called, not looking back at them for a second.

Ben turned to give Butcher one last, venomous glower. “If I don’t get my fucking shield next time, we’re going to have a fucking problem.”

“We’ll get you your shield, Gov, don’t loose your damn mind.”

Ben grunted, turning to take the seat next to Her, but carefully listened to Butcher and MM’s hushed whispers as he moved.

“Bloody hell, MM, you had one fucking job.”

“I am not helping him, Butcher. Don’t send me to do your damn dirty work.”

Butcher scoffed. “I’ve had you do much dirtier work, mate. This was a fucking cake walk, and you still fucked it up.”

“I’m going to tell you one last time, and it better get through your thick, dumbass head. I am not doing anything, fucking anything, for that racist piece of shit.”

Ben opened his mouth, subtle eavesdropping was a fucking overrated pussy move anyways, to defend himself. Collateral damage fucking happened, it wasn’t his fucking fault Vought was always sending him-

“What’s the big deal with the shield?” He heard Starlight mutter behind him, a question clearly addressed to Cocksucker.

“Dunno, but he was really weird about it last time, almost threw me out a window cause I touched it-“

“I can fucking hear you,” Ben twisted roughly to face them. “What is it with you pussies and pretending I’m fucking deaf?”

Starlight sighed, giving him an annoyed glare, as Cocksucker responded weakly.

“We just, we don’t think you want to talk to us-“

“Shut the fuck up,” Ben grunted.

“Don’t talk to him like that!” Starlight’s eyes started to glow, and Ben rolled his own in response.

“Fucking try it, Bitch, I’ll blow you back to Vought. If you have a question, fucking ask it.”

“Fine,” Starlight held Ben’s anger with her own. “What’s the big deal with your shield? Are you compensating? Do you get performance issues without it?”

“Annie,” Cocksucker’s heart had picked up, and he was grabbing Starlight’s arm tightly. “Don’t make him mad.”

A thousand, perfect insults pushed against Ben’s head. Fucking amazing hits that would have Starlight crying to Cocksucker for weeks. But he could hear Her heartbeat behind him, stuttering for only a second as she listened to the argument. He heard that rhythmic tapping again, and so he pushed the words down, and gave Starlight a taunting sneer.

“Listen to your little cocksucker.” Ben taunted. “I’ll let it fucking go this time, because I’m feeling fucking generous. But next time? I kill both of you pussies.”

Ben turned away, and once his back was fully to them, he pulled out the crumpled list that now always sat in his pocket, trying to figure out if She had added “broad” at any point. While the bottom was filled with Ben’s own scratchy, hastily written additions, the top to middle of the paper was written in her neat, clipped handwriting, and close to the top was the sentence loose broad with the doll face - Buttercup from the Princess Bride??? Ben frowned at it—why couldn’t She have underlined the word—and leaned to the side, nudging Her shoulder with his own. When she didn’t turn from her soft conversation with Kimiko—how She could possibly be so invested in a conversation with a woman Ben was pretty fucking sure was mute was beyond him—Ben shoved it under her face.

Her voice died off, hands pausing mid-air, and she slowly turned to stare at him. “What are you doing.”

He pointed roughly to the sentence. “What does that mean?”

She squinted, grabbing it from him to hold closer to her eyes. “I was probably confused why you’d call Buttercup that. She’s famously not loose for like, the whole story-“

“No,” he tugged it back. “Why did you write that sentence down? What’s so bad about ‘loose broad with the doll face’?”

Her lips quirked up. “That’s what’s so urgent?”

“Is it loose, or broad?” He ignored her amusement.

“I think both together. Loose isn’t great, but I’d be lying if I said I never called my mother loose. Broad is just…” She frowned. “I don’t think I’ve heard the word ‘broad’ out the mouth from anyone who doesn’t have an active memory of at least one world war.”

“So broad is fine?”

“If you want to sound a thousand, sure. I’ve definitely heard you say worse.”

Ignoring the age jab, Ben locked and loaded his next insult for Starlight. He would let the “compensating” comment go, he was forgiving like that, but there was no fucking way she wouldn’t say something else soon. And he’d be fucking ready for it. He shoved the list back into his pants, where it had stayed since he first caught Her using it. At first it had been going to take a one way ticket down the toilet, but then he’d noticed how when he used those words on the paper, She’d frown and not talk to him for a damn hour. It was a fucking annoying, inconvenient, bitch move because during that time she wouldn’t laugh at his jokes or tell him how stupid modern technology in movies worked or bombard him with annoying comments that made him want to grab Her pretty, taunting, insufferable face and teach her some manners. She’d just be quiet and mad, and it was like he was alone, and suddenly he would hear the drum. So he’d kept the list and, whenever he noticed the bitter silence showing its ugly head, he’d write down what coxed it out. Eventually She’d noticed, and started to help him. If it hadn’t proved an effective strategy to keep her off his ass about stupid fucking shit, he’d have lied up, down, and sideways about keeping it. But they hadn’t had any of those moments he’d grown to detest since she had, so he’d kept in his bitterness about the stupidity of the whole thing in check and counted this a win.

“Look alive, fuckers.” Ben looked up as MM stood, one of those alleged “phones” in hand. “Sage will be here in five minutes. She’s agreed to meet me, Starlight, and Hughie. Frenchie and Kimiko, I want y’all outside, nearby, and ready in case she’s pulling one over. Butcher, go home.”

“Nah, mate. I’m a part of this, Mallory said so. Could make me go home if you tickled my balls and topped me off.”

“Well, then you’re going to have to stay in here.” MM turned as he said Her name. “You’re staying in here with Soldier Boy. If we need you, you’ll hear the signal.”

She hummed in acknowledgment. “What’s the signal?”

“The Deep’s massive tits.” MM gave a tired exhale as Her mouth fell open in amusement. “Frenchie made the signal. Make sure they,” both Ben and Butcher receive rough jabs in their direction. “Don’t fuck this up.”

Before either Ben or Butcher, whose mouth and protesting words had somehow begun faster than Ben’s own, could argue, MM was following the rest of the already mobilized team out of the van, and the doors were slammed behind him.

Tense, angry silence was in the air for only a minute before Butcher spoke.

“Now that everyone’s gone, will you two admit you’re fucking?”

Her heartbeat picked up slightly, and Ben leered at Butcher.

“Watch it, Dick Van Dyke, I’ll cut your fucking face off.” From beside him, Ben heard Her snort. “What do you find so funny?”

Ignoring his angry look, She gave another small giggle. “I don’t think that insult is as good as you think, Ben.”

“It was a fucking amazing insult-“

“Dick Van Dyke is American.”

“No, he was in all those stupid fucking British movies, like that one about the magic fucking nanny-“

“You’ve watched Mary Poppins?” Butcher laughed, and Ben considered ripping off his lips and feeding them to him. One bitchy, melodramatic woman who constantly cut off his words was more than enough. He didn’t need another fucking asshole, whose comments were not nearly as unwelcomingly entertaining, doing the same.

“Only because your hound dog bitch threatened to burn off my fucking dick if I didn’t.” Ben grumbled, and She gave another laugh.

“You enjoyed it, you cunt. And you told me a story about how you met Dick Van Dyke in the 60s. When he was, as he is now, incredibly American.”

“Sunshine, are you going to let me defend your honor or not?”

“My honor?” She gave him a face of giddy disbelief. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“He said we’re fucking!” Ben waved wildly at Butcher. “I’m not going to let him talk about a lady like that-“

“You literally goaded him on barely an hour ago. And called me a ‘hound dog bitch’ like, five seconds ago.” She pointed out. “Even if that wasn’t true, you’d have a whole lot of misplaced faith that I have ‘honor’ to begin with.”

“I don’t think you’d know honor if it ate you out ass to cunt.” Butcher made an exaggerated face of thought, and was met with only a flat look.

“So taint? Ass to cunt as in taint?” Her voice was bored, arms crossed in front of her chest.

Butcher shrugged. “No lady with honor knows the word taint.”

“Then we’re lucky I lost the title of ‘lady’ years ago,” She said with a toothy, fake smile. “And you,” a glare was shot at Ben. “Are not helping the ‘we’re fucking’ allegations by defending my honor, dumbass.”

He wasn’t, he knew that. But her heartbeat had settled, no longer clawing into Ben’s brain, so he just grunted. “Fuck me for trying to help.”

“I won’t,” she smirked. “That’s the whole point.”

“Bitch.”

“Cunt. Butcher,” She turned away from Ben once more. “What time did MM say Sage would arrive?”

“He didn’t.” Butcher answered, making an angry face at the closed door. “Something about not trusting us to stay here.”

Just then, Ben’s careful ear on Her heartbeat, which had slowed fully in the past minutes, was distracted by steps, followed by voices.

“I’m glad you agreed to meet us.” A man’s voice, too low to be Cocksucker, had to be MM.

“Well, even though I know what you’re going to say, I’m still intrigued by how you plan to say it.” Ben didn’t recognize that one. It sounded calm and controlled like Hers usually was, but only had the edge of anger. Her voice was always lined with vague amusement, at everything all the time. This woman didn’t sound like it was capable of laughter, even mockingly.

“Well, if you know what we’re going to say, can you just tell us your answer now?” That one was self-righteous and insufferable. Starlight.

“No.”

“Is that… your answer to what we’re going to say or whether or not you’ll tell us now?” Unsure, nervous, pathetic. Cocksucker.

“The later. I’m not going to tell you the answer until everyone joins us. Do you think I’m fucking-“

“Ben?” A pair of fingers snapped in his face.

Eyes refocusing, Ben realized She had moved so he was face-to-face with her concerned glare and frown watching him carefully.

“If that cunt fucking blows his bloody lid, I’m going outside, MM can suck my-“

Ben scowled at Butcher over Her shoulder. “I’m not going to fucking explode. I have a fucking handle on it-“ She gave Ben an incredulous look that he ignored. “And I’m trying to listen, so shut the fuck up so I can listen to what those pussies out there are saying.”

“You can hear them?” She dropped back to her seat, leaning forward with an intent stare. “What are they talking about?”

“I could tell you if you would shut the fuck up.” He grunted, and she rolled her eyes but didn’t move back. Ben paused, no longer hearing voices at all. “They moved.”

Butcher pushed off the wall. “What do you mean they moved? The fuck did they go?”

“I can’t tell you if you don’t shut-“

The door of the van was pulled open, and Ben jumped to his feet, hearing Her heartbeat start to rise as she did the same. But, instead of the blood and chaos Ben expected, was ready for, a short woman with a gleam in her dark eyes stood on the other side.

“Butcher, you look just as shitty as I expected. Should’ve listened to MM about staying behind.” Her voice was the cold, methodical one. Ben hated it, and hated how it matched her smug, stone-like face.

“If you’re as smart as you claim to be, Sister, you should know I do what I bloody want.” Butcher gave the woman a hateful, mocking smile.

She just gave a small nod back. “Well, I am ‘as smart as I claim to be’, and you are ‘doing what you want’. Reliable as always, William.” Her gaze turned to Ben. “I can’t say I’m surprised to see you, Soldier Boy. I knew they would be going for some sort of Hail Mary, and even though I was hoping for something more intelligent, maybe flipping Neuman, this will work fine. And you…” Her voice trailed, and a disarming smile grew across her face. “I don’t know you. I know everybody.”

Behind Ben, Her heartbeat was like thunder. “Glad to be an exception to such a weird and creepy rule.”

“Who are you? No, wait.” Sage titled her head. “I want to guess.”

The tapping had begun, and the drums had started their march from Ben’s chest to his head.

“You’re not Butcher’s friend, he doesn’t have any. You’re not CIA… not Vought. Not with Nueman, she wouldn’t be that stupid. I’ve seen pictures of all the supervillains Homelander tried to make, and-“ A first, true smile split across Sage’s face just as Her heartbeat became deafening. “Oh! Interesting. That hit a nerve, but how?”

Ben stepped forward, fists clenched, as Sage’s eyes scanned Her closely. “I don’t know what kind of big shot you think you are, but I’d shut the fuck up now before I make your mouth fill up with blood.”

“I’m good,” she gave Ben a sideways look. “Although that’s also interesting. Now, you aren’t military, or a terrorist. You don’t seem quite as idiotically rage-blind as the others, you might even be intelligent. Or, well, intelligent by human standards.”

“You going to keep shooting in the dark, and waste all our time?” Her voice had moved closer, and Ben knew he’d only have to turn his head slightly to see that glassy-eyed stare focused on Sage, who only hummed.

“I’ll get it, don’t worry about that. My shot in the dark has floodlights compared to yours. But time is a finite resource, especially now. You just have to come on out to join the party, and we’ll get started.”

Ben twisted to find Her exchanging doubtful looks with Butcher, who spoke first.

“How do we know you ain’t just killed them, and are luring us out to finish the job?”

“Because that’s fucking stupid.” Sage said with an annoyed frown. “And I’m frankly a little insulted you think I'd do something that plainly dumb. You would’ve heard it. In fact, Soldier Boy can probably hear them, alive, right now. I just told them to stay there and be quiet or I’d start screaming about Starlight trying to kidnap and traffic me. People would hear me, we’re at a warehouse in Queens, not fucking Montana.”

Ben gave an eye roll as all eyes turned to him. “Why do I have to fucking check? There’s a goddamn window right there. Just fucking look outside. Or those pussies can just grow some fucking balls and tell us they’re alive.”

“Ben,” Her voice was tired, and he could still hear the pressure of her heart against her ribs. “You can hear them anyway. Just fucking tell us, please.”

“Fine,” he grunted. He could hear them anyway, so he gave a tight nod after making a whole stupid fucking show of listening for signs of life, but fuck him if this was going to become a regular thing. Ben was not, threat of dick-burning be damned, going to be reduced to recon.

But Her stopped trying to claw out of her when he confirmed Sage’s words, and Ben felt an odd, satisfying rush through him when he heard it.

“Can we move?” Sage stepped aside with an exaggerated sweep of her arm.

Butcher left first, and before Ben could follow, a hand grabbed his arm. He turned back to see barely-contained panic on across Her face—panic he could feel with the tightening of her grip.

“Sage can’t know,” She whispered to him. “Don’t tell her.”

“About what?” Ben frowned, trying to ignore where she still held his arm. Firmly. Unflinchingly.

She didn’t even pull back as she spoke. “Me. If she knows about me, she’ll tell Homelander. He’ll know I’m in New York. He’ll know I’m working with Butcher. He’ll find me and bring me back. Don’t tell her.”

Disturbingly, it wasn’t only the angered acceleration of her heart eating at Ben. It was realizing that her face wasn’t full of panic. It was fear—real fear—in her eyes. He’d never seen her just afraid. He’d seen her infuriated and nervous and exhausted but never simply, rawly afraid. He didn’t like it. She hadn’t become that hollow shell he’d seen at the beginning, or that unbearably tragic picture, looking far away as she told him about Homelander. She was just as unbendable as he knew her, but paralyzed. Made of only pure, useless fucking fear.

So he meant every fucking word he spoke. “I won’t. We’re not going back there.”

“We?” She didn’t let go, her face unreadable.

“I’m not going back in the fucking box, you’re not going back to that pussy Homelander. I’m going to kill them, and you’re going to let me leave. That was the fucking deal.”

She nodded, glancing down at her hands on his arm, and her hold on him loosened. “That was the deal.” She echoed, and walked past him without another word.

They stepped out onto the street and began to follow Sage into the warehouse, Butcher’s Pussysquad walking ahead of them. The moment Ben was at the door, MM turned, raising a flat palm to halt him. “No, you stay right fucking there. You are not a part of this.”

“I’m not listening if he’s not.” Sage said smoothly, looking Ben up and down.

“Great, you two can bond over hating convenient conversation.” She muttered from next to Ben, glaring a hole in the floor.

“Fuck off, Sunshine. I’m charming and endearing, not a bragging, self-assured bitch.” He muttered back as the argument about where he should stand stretched on for far too fucking long.

“You are the most braggadocios, self-assured bitch I’ve ever had the displeasure of knowing.”

“I’m not the bitch that just used ‘braggadocios’ in a sentence like an asshole pussy.”

“At least I know the word at all. I think you came out of the womb knowing only pussy, bitch, and fuck and decided that was more than enough.”

“You sound like a fucking bitch right now.”

“You sound like a cunt who wants to fuck his mirror all the time.”

Ben looked back down to see a thin-lipped, but painless, smile creeping across her face. “One day you should ask my mirror how it is. I’ll receive a fucking amazing endorsement, and you’ll beg me to give you a fucking chance.”

“Endorsement’s a pretty big word, pretty boy. Are you sure you don’t need to sit down now?”

He did a double-take. “Did you just fucking call me pretty-“

“Oi, either fuck right now or come and do your fucking jobs.” Butcher yelled from inside, the argument apparently over with a victory for Sage.

“Please don’t fuck right now,” Cocksucker mumbled, and She rolled her eyes, leaving Ben’s side to stand amongst the group.

“I think I’ll manage to keep it together.” Sarcasm dripped from her tone and was painted across her face, but she didn’t flinch away as Ben came up behind her.

Sage was eyeing Her still, and Ben liked the woman less by the second. Even as Starlight spoke, Sage’s attention didn’t move, remaining locked on Her as if trying to pick her apart.

“We know how Homelander screwed you, Sage. He’s screwed all of us.”

“Screwed feels like a bloody generous term for ass-fucking to completion and then cutting off our balls.” Butcher muttered.

“Butcher,” Cocksucker sighed. “Unnecessarily gross.”

“I don’t know,” the French Prick, having apparently re-joined the group when Ben hadn’t been paying attention, mused. “The visualization helps.”

Cocksucker gaped at him. “How?”

“Well, either way-“

“It raises the stakes, no?” The French Prick cut off Starlight, a look of impossibly genuine concentration on his face. “Screwing is gentle, possibly playful. Monsieur Butcher's words make the issue far more…” As he searched for the words, Kimiko made another weird fucking gesture, and a smile spread across the French Prick’s face. “Oui, Mon Coeur. Fucking urgent. Far more fucking urgent.”

“Great, more urgent.” Starlight blinked, clearly giving a pathetic attempt to regain control. It was glorious for Ben to watch. “Now, we think-“

“It was still gross, things can be urgent and not gross.” Cocksucker frowned at the French Prick.

“Hughie,” Starlight hissed.

“Shit, sorry Annie-“

“No, petite Hughie, the gross nature of the words is what makes them so urgent.” The French Prick argued. “It makes them more difficult to ignore.”

MM gave an attempt to push back that didn’t involve nearly enough shouting or threats for Ben’s taste. “The words don’t matter, now just listen to Annie-“

“Words fucking matter, Mate." Butcher interjected. Ben agreed, if they didn’t then the whole stupid fucking list would have been for nothing.

“Not right now, Butcher, right now all that matters is we listen to Annie-“

“Well, Butcher’s technically right. Words do really fucking matter.” She chimed in from Ben’s side. “Language is a pillar of culture, and different words will have the same translations but different meanings across cultures.”

MM gave Her a disbelieving stare. “You too?”

“What words have different meanings across cultures?” Cocksucker asked, sounding somehow genuinely interested.

“More often than not, it’s symbolic changes, such as colors and animals having different connotations or there being a wide variety of words for one language that only has a few.”

“This can’t wait?” Starlight asked, throwing MM a hopeless look. Ben hoped it couldn’t. As utterly boring as the words coming out of Her mouth were, he’d never seen her so enthusiastic about something that wasn’t a piece of media to be explained. Her heartbeat was rising, yes, but it was beating like a drug, not a gun, against Ben’s head. This, this was tolerable, and if Starlight fucking stopped it he might have to kill her.

It was MM though, who said Her name firmly. As she trailed off, he looked at her with raised eyebrows and a frown. “You done?”

Ben could hear the chew of Her lip, and she nodded apologetically, shooting a nervous look to where Sage was watching Her with narrow eyes. If Ben was smart about it, he was pretty sure he could kill Sage, MM, and Starlight in one move. Unfortunately, that would probably make Her all bitchy and angry at him, which was exactly what he was trying to avoid. Maybe he could make it look like an accident.

“Great,” Starlight sighed. “Sage, Homelander has fucked all of us.” Butcher gave an approving grin as Starlight threw him a dirty look. “He needs to be stopped.”

“And what makes you think you can stop him? You’ve tried numerous times, and every attempt has blown up in your face more spectacularly than the last.”

“We have a plan.” Starlight said, standing up straighter.

“Then you don’t need me.”

“That’s what I fucking said.” Butcher grumbled.

“But they didn’t listen to you, which means whatever you’re trying isn’t a revenge-blind, foolish Butcher special.”

“Love, if you’re implying I’m a fucking idiot-“

“Wasn’t implying. Outright said it.”

“We can still bloody kill you-“

“Butcher,” MM said with a glare. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Well, I ain’t bloody wrong. Her power is ‘smart’, she’s not a fucking threat. We got the real threat on our side.” Butcher gave Her a wide, smug grin.

Right at Ben’s side, She froze.

“The ‘real threat’?” Sage asked, and turned slowly to examine Her once more.

“Soldier Boy,” MM said, looking between Her and Sage. “You know what he can do. We didn’t bring him back for nothing.”

“No, but you did bring him back… Why?” Sage wondered aloud, and Ben could hear the insufferable gears of her bitch brain turning. “Because you had the real threat. Not him, something worse.” Sage’s mouth turned up just the gleam in her eyes returned. “The Anomaly.”

“I- what are you- I don’t know what-“ Ben didn’t need to see Her eyes to know that the fear had returned. It was in every word She spoke, and he wanted to rip it out of her and shove it into Sage. “You don’t- I don’t-“

“He told me you died. Horrible accident, fourth shot of V didn’t take, and you combusted. I knew he was lying, I just thought he’d decided he wanted more secrecy and moved you, killed you himself, or you’d escaped and were on the other side of the world. Very, very stupid of you to come back.”

“If you know what happened to her, you should know what a fucking monster Homelander is.” Starlight said. “You should listen to what we have to say.”

“Not interested anymore.” Sage gave a dismissive gesture, another fucking smile creeping onto her features. “The Anomaly, alive and working with Starlight and Butcher? Working with Soldier Boy? This is good, this changes things.”

Ben braced his arms at his side, his anger feeding into the beat against his chest, moving forward as She took a weak, stumbled step further behind him. “You listen, or lose your fucking life.”

“I think I’ll just go. I had a much more dramatic reveal, but you have been set up, and this building is surrounded.” Sage sighed. “I would say I wish I could’ve played into the theatrics you all love a little more, but I’m actually incredibly fucking relieved I don’t have to. I’ll see everybody soon, and good luck with whatever you’re planning. I’m sure it will be entertaining.”

Before Ben could give in to the drums, or even more to grab her, the warehouse was flooded with men in black suits.

“Fuck,” Butcher shouted, pulling out a gun from thin fucking air. “What’s the point of having a super-hearing supe if you can’t fucking hear a warehouse full of enemies?”

“Sound-suppressing suits,” the French Prick yelled, taking a step behind Kimiko as he too pulled a weapon from nowhere. “I was developing them with the CIA, Vought must have gotten their fucking hands on them.”

MM pulled out his own gun, and Ben was now pretty fucking sure they were all keeping them up their asses. “Does Mallory know about them?”

“Oui, but they must have just gotten their hands on them, I finished them only two days ago.”

“When we made the fucking plan to meet with Sage,” Cocksucker had, like the cowardly pussy Ben knew him to be, moved behind Starlight. “But she can’t have known we had Soldier Boy, why would she spend time to get them?”

“Sage is nothing if not careful,” MM fired up at the descending men. “We need to get out of here, right fucking now.”

The words had hardly left MM’s mouth when the warehouse lit up with bullets.

“Are you just going to let Sage fucking get away?” Ben yelled, remaining firmly planted where he was, bullets bouncing off him like rain.

“Excuse us, Gov, not all of us are bloody immortal. And we quite like living, so shut the fuck up and be useful.” Butcher ran past Ben, firing back as he did.

Ben scowled at nothing, punching one of the men backwards like a bowling ball when he got too close. “She’s going back to Homelander, that feels pretty fucking important-“

“The doors are fucking blocked!” Cocksucker’s shrill, pussy yell cut Ben off. “They’re everywhere!”

“Then move them, you fucking pussy!” Ben threw another up into the ceiling.

He felt fucking alive. All around him, Butcher’s team was being the most useful they’d ever need in their pathetic pussy lives. The French Prick was holding something weird and long that Ben would very much like to use later, Butcher and MM were firing with an intent to kill that Ben appreciated, Kimiko ripped off a man's head with ease, and Ben was starting to hate her a little less than the rest of them. Even Starlight and Cocksucker were vaguely helpful, even if Starlight was mostly invested in keeping Cocksucker and his weak punches safe. It was fucking perfect, right until  Ben threw another man into the wall, leaving a dent in the concrete, and saw Her.

She was right where they’d left her, smoking but not yet burning, men trying to grab her but falling back with screams as they did. Her bloodless, frozen face was trained on where Sage had stood, and despite the chorus of gunshots and shouting through the warehouse, her heartbeat was as loud as if Ben were right next to her. The tapping was fast—faster than he’d ever heard it, her eyes were unblinking and glazed, and blood was dripping from her lips as she chewed through skin.

She was going to fucking blow.

Another man, in almost slow motion, grabbed Her. But not on the arms or shoulder like the others had attempted. Right on the fucking neck. Ben watched as the idiot's hand landed on Her throat, watched her eyes widen and clear, and watched the man let out an undignified, pussy-like shriek as he recoiled back. But it was too fucking late. The smoke stopped, for only a second, and Ben could’ve sworn the ground fucking shook.

Everything went up into flames.

“Fuck!” Ben heard MM roar from somewhere behind him. “Everyone out! Get the fuck out!”

Ben sent another man flying back, directly into the fire, as he kept his eyes on Her. Still frozen, eyes no longer clouded, looking almost fucking oblivious to the flames around her. She didn’t seem to be burning anymore, only standing in the fire that had burst from her. Her eyes were full of that fear again, shooting upwards as the first piece of the roof fell down with a crash.

“The doors! Open the fucking doors!”

Ben turned to find Butcher shouting as Kimiko and MM struggled with the warehouse entrance. Ben glanced back at Her, but his line of sight was cut as another piece fell. Somehow, over all the noise, Ben heard Butcher once more.

“Soldier Boy, get your cunt ass over here and be fucking useful. Open the fucking doors!”

Ben grabbed one of the idiotic men who hadn’t either burned or tried to scramble away, throwing him directly to the warehouse door. The man shot right through the building, clearing a hole to the outside with a crunch. In the momentary shocked silence of the groups struggle, fire crackled, and another piece of the warehouse fell.

“Out!” Out of the corner of his eye, Ben saw MM practically push Cocksucker through the hole. “Now! Get out!”

Ben stared at the hole, Her heartbeat ripping into him. He could leave her. The building would fall, and he could fucking run in the time it took to pull her out. He could be fucking free, ahead of schedule, no killing Homelander and saving a stupid fucking world full of backstabbing pussies required. They’d find another way to kill Homelander, or not. It wouldn’t be his problem. Ben couldn’t even see her through the smoke and debris anymore. It would be so fucking easy to leave, kill Butcher, and escape.

But Her heartbeat wouldn’t fucking stop. It would keep going and going into his head. And the drum hated it, every time it sank into him, it fed the fucking drum.

He wasn’t moving. He needed to fucking move, or they’d realize his plan and try and knock him out. He wasn’t going back in the fucking box.

And She wasn’t going back to Homelander.

“Fuck!” He yelled at no one, partially hoping she’d just walk out, or someone would call him forward. But all the team had left them, and now the warehouse was just Ben, Her, and a bunch of ill-fated Vought shit-eaters.

Ben turned, throwing the wreckage as he did. It probably wasn’t helpful to the general state of the building the way he did so, but he wasn’t in the mood to be a fucking careful or gentle pussy. He reached Her, and found her passed out, face almost empty. If it weren’t for the sound of her breath, the still-quick flutter of her heart, Ben would’ve thought her dead.

“If you don’t become at least 10% less of a bitch after this Sunshine,” he grumbled at her unconscious body. “I’m throwing you right back in here.”

But he hauled Her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, ignoring the way she seared into his skin, and walked through his previous path to the exit.

———-

The ride back from the disastrous mission made Ben want to blow everyone’s fucking brains out of their heads. There were weird looks, hushed questions about what happened that he had to pretend he couldn’t hear, and a whole lot of self-righteous, sad faces. It was made worse by the fact that She didn’t even wake up until they were fully back in the safe house, meaning Ben had to fucking carry her inside. Butcher offered, but Ben had just glared at him—as far as Ben was concerned, the dick just wanted to take advantage of one of the only “safe” times to touch her—and refused to even respond.

Ben dumped Her in her room, and marched back downstairs to find Butcher still in the fucking living room.

“What the fuck do you want?” Ben grumbled, pushing past him to the kitchen.

“Well, I would usually tell your girlfriend, but seeing as she's taking a bloody little nap you’ll have to do.”

“She’d cut off your dick if she heard that,” Ben snorted. “Take it from my personal experience.”

“Good thing she can’t. Just tell her we’ll be back in a few days for operation Quick and Bald.”

"Operation Quick and Bald?" Ben huffed a sarcastic laugh. “I am not fucking saying those words.”

Butcher smirked. “Your head, Gov. See you in a few days.”

And Ben was left alone in the kitchen.

It took all the way to morning for Her to wake up. She stumbled into Ben’s room with a frown and a determined look.

“Teach me how to fight.”

Ben gave her a lazy half-grin from the bed. “Welcome back, Sunshine. Anything you’d like to say to me? A thank you, for instance. Though I would also accept acts of gratitude.”

“I’m not sucking your dick. Teach me how to fight.”

“I’m good. Not in my job description.”

She glared at him. "Technically, you don’t have a job. We’re not paying you. Teach me how to fight.”

“They’re not paying you either, Sunshine. We’re both victims.”

“I’m legally dead, they can’t pay me. And you’re the farthest thing from a victim, Mr. Body Count in the Thousands. Teach me how to fight.”

“No.” Ben had no interest in doing more for these fucking idiots. He’d already saved her life once in the past day, that should earn him enough fucking gratitude to coast for at least a damn month.

“Please, Ben, this can’t keep happening where I lose control, someone could really get hurt.” She rubbed her eyes in obvious distress. “People did get hurt.”

“So? Hurting people is what we do. You shouldn’t be in the field if you can’t fucking handle it.” Ben repeated the words he had so often told himself through the years. It had always fucking worked for him. She shouldn’t be any different.

“I can’t fucking handle it?!” She scoffed in disbelief. “That’s a mighty stupid thing for the pot to say to the kettle.”

Ben shot her a cold look. “I know how to fucking hold my own, Sunshine, I don’t need someone to fucking save me. You can’t fucking control yourself at all, and it’s a goddamn problem.”

“Nobody made you go back, you could’ve just fucking left me.” She hissed.

"Well, I didn’t,” Ben growled. “Don’t make me fucking regret it.”

“I could say the same for you. You’re only out of the box because I wanted you here-”

“Aw, Sunshine, you wanted me?” He mocked.

“I wanted your powers here. You’re just the vessel.”

“I saved your fucking life, bitch.”

“And I’m sure you’re not going to be a fucking cunt about that forever.”

“You need me.” He shot to his feet. “Don’t fucking forget it.”

She took a step forward, her face venomous. “No, you need me. What do you think happens if they decide I’m a ‘problem’ now, huh? They send me home, and just trust you not to go all revenge-fueled vigilante? If I burn, you burn, Ben. So fucking teach me how to not be a ‘problem’, or it’s your fucking head.”

He bared his teeth at Her. “If I teach you how to fight, will you stop being a fucking pussy and thank me for saving you?”

“Teach me how to fight, really fight and not just throw a punch, and I’ll buy you a fucking fleshlight.”

“What the fuck is a fleshlight?”

She gave him a mocking smirk. “Trust me, you’ll love them.”

Ben paused, examining Her face, angered but firm. “I want three of them.” He still wasn't sure what they were, but She had been frustratingly fucking accurate about what he would and wouldn't like.

“Deal.” She extended her hand, and he glared at it.

“If I hate them, you’re cooking me something.”

“You’d volunteer to be poisoned?” She laughed. “Your funeral, dumbass.”

He ignored her words, and shook her hand as aggressively as he could. “Meet me in the kitchen in three hours. I’m going to make you fucking cry.”

She grinned. “Looking forward to it.”

[flowerbetweenfangs]

Traditions

This was posted a while ago under an old account of mine. I spruced it up and changed a few things. It features one of my most popular characters, a minotaur named Rosso. Here he and the reader discuss traditions.

CW: Pregnancy. Injury (Rosso + hammer = ow)

Metallic clanging echoed through the house when you entered. Then, it was followed by a meaty smack.

“Chronos’ Balls!” Another smack, then a thud of something hitting the carpet. “Gaea’s Tit!”

Pausing in the kitchen, you double-checked to make sure the burners were off. Whatever had been prepared was still in the pots, but it smelled good. At least you didn’t have to worry about the house burning down.

Sucking in a breath, you set down the groceries and prepared herself for what you were about to find in the second bedroom.

Hunched over the floor, was your fiancé. Rosso pulled back, sucking on his index finger. As he cradled his hand,

You took in the mess.

There were blood splatters on the floor, but he’d thankfully put down a tarp. Your eyes followed the chaos, seeing a broken screwdriver, warped hammers, splintered nails, and stripped screws. A bag of tools was spilled over the carpet, thankfully none stuck in it.

His project was a pile of scrap metal and leather. It had started to form some sort of foundation, but it wasn’t obvious where it was headed. Papers were scattered all over the outside of the tarp, spared from the mess.

Looking down, You saw the diagrams. They’d been hand-drawn. The pictures were clear enough, showing a breast and shoulder plate, with a few pieces of leather. Apparently, it would form a sort of bassinet that could be converted into a pen. There seemed to be additional instructions written in Ancient Greek, the print big enough for the Minotaur to read.

Rosso bandaged his finger, and there were several more dressings on his hand and arm.

“You know, if you wanted a crib for the baby, we could have bought one.” If they could find one big enough it. Getting one custom-made would be costly. You tried to do mental calculations, but your thoughts were interrupted by the occupant of your womb kicking.

Knees weak, you sucked in a breath and put a hand on your stomach. The movement must have pushed on your bladder because you needed to pee.

Once you came out of the bathroom, Rosso was laying on his stomach, having cleaned up the worst of the mess. His chin rested on the back of his hands as he stared at the diagrams.

“It’s tradition.” He said, frowning.

“To brutalize yourself with a hammer?” you looked at the tools, your back hurt at the thought of leaning down and picking them up.

Sighing, he looked up. “No. We break down our armor. Melt it to scrap. Tear up the leather. That way a small piece of us is there to protect the calf. Then, we get new armor so we can be a better fighter for them.” His ears flapped in irritation, tail whipping through the air. You had to sidestep to avoid it.

“I tried with the hammer and kept breaking the nails. I broke the screwdriver and stripped all the screws. And the drill’s too small for my hands.” Sitting up, he rubbed the length of his horns. Squeezing the points, he let out a long breath.

“I wanted to surprise you. But I just made a mess.” He sighed and knelt in the mess of papers and metal. “The Herd wanted to help, but…” His tail whipped again. “It’s hard enough to move around this place on my own.”

Staring at the scrap, you put a hand on top of his head, fingers tangling in his hair. His ears flapped and he let out a soft grunt of enjoyment.

“Why don’t I help? “you took the remaining nails and frowned. “Are these even long enough…?”

Holding them next to the bandages, you rolled your eyes. No wonder he kept smashing them. They were shorter than his fingers were thick. Some dents in the metal told you he’d tried to hammer without holding them.

Athena had not been his Patron Goddess.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea?” His eyes went to your stomach, ears drooping.

“I’m pregnant, not helpless.” Picking up the diagrams, you tried to match the pieces. “Besides, it’s my baby too.”

“Here.” You passed the papers to Rosso. “You brains. Me brawn.”

He looked at the diagrams, sucking in a breath.

“What?”

“… I was reading this upside down.”

“I keep telling you that you need glasses.” you chided.

Picking up the least broken hammer ,you begin to try and make sense of the mess.

“That puff machine… I don’t trust it.” He rested his chin on the back of his hand, picking up the heavier pieces and beginning to move them around. When you shot him a look, his ears flicked back.

“You ain’t helpless, but this is Asterian armor, baby.” He rapped his knuckles on the metal, wincing and shaking his hand. “Heavy and sturdy.”

Rosso showed you what pieces went where, and you want to work. When your hands shook trying to hold something, he’d steady it for her.

The leather was easy enough, but it would go last. Metal to metal was another thing entirely, and you had to throw your full upper body strength into the swing and pray the nail didn’t give out before the armor.

Eventually, you were able to drown out his wincing when you brought the face of the hammer down close to your hands without injury. Your palms ached, but you didn’t want to stop. The armor had been Rosso’s most prized possession. This meant more to him than you could even fathom.

One of the few things he had left from his side of the Blend. And he’d used it to make something new.

You managed to get it looking similar enough to the final picture, albeit more dented and scuffed than probably intended. The family crest was at the head of the bassinet. She’d have to buy blankets and pillows to make the thing actually comfortable for the future occupant.

Putting a hand on the side, you shook it. The structure held. Rosso mimicked her, smiling when it didn’t fall apart. If Earthshaker himself couldn’t break it, then it was safe for a baby.

It was a lot bigger than any she’d seen before. But if Rosso was anything to go by, the baby would be huge. Even at five months, many thought you were due any day. The visits to the doctor had shown a large fetus, but thankfully no horns. Possibly a tail.

The thought of four more months of this…

Sighing, you put a hand to your stomach, letting it rest there.

“Kicking again?” Rosso put his hand on the bump, ears flicking with excitement. Then, he frowned, his disappointment palpable.

“No, just thinking. “you looked at the structure. “Seeing this makes it feel more real, you know?” It was all coming so fast. The months had seemed like an eternity, but each day seemed to slip by faster and faster. It had only been six months, but the doctors said that due to the baby’s size, you would likely have to induce and possibly cut them out. you didn’t like the idea but, after a bruised rib, your body was ready to evict.

Taking your hand, Rosso bent down to kiss it. “I know he wasn’t planned, but between us and the herd, that’s going to be the most loved calf this side of the Blend.”

“So they’re a boy? “you teased.

Rosso shrugged. “Boy. Girl. Something in between, they’re gonna be the luckiest kid in the world.” He chuckled. “If they’re twins…”

She seized the front of his shirt. Despite your own strength being no match for his own, he allowed himself to be pulled so their eyes were level. He held perfectly still so his horns wouldn’t accidentally puncture her.

“If you Cassandra another baby into me, I will make what happened at the Labyrinth look like child’s play.”you released him, “It’s hard enough with just the one.”

Clearing his throat, Rosso smiled apologetically. Then, he snapped his fingers and went to the diagrams. Picking up a folded piece of paper, he turned it over and dumped something into his hand.

“One more tradition.” He showed your four pieces of scrap, grey and small. Well, small for him. “I was going to take these to the silversmith tomorrow.”

“We don’t exchange rings. Isn’t too practical with how much you’re going to be punching and moving things.” He lifted it up and held it in front of his ear, where an earring would go.

“If you want, we can get it engraved, but if we have a matching set, then everyone’s going to know…” He placed two pieces of the scrap in your hand. You turned it over, running your finger along the length.

“I know we’ve been open about the relationship, but this is… It makes it real. And it’s…”

“Important.” you finished, smiling. Putting a hand to your lobe, you nodded. The metal was heavy, but would probably be more manageable post smithing. “Just make sure these won’t rust.”

His eyes widened, and you realized the thought hadn’t occurred to him. Closing his fist, he nodded.

“I’ll take care of it. I promise.” He fiddled with his ear. “I’ve never been pierced before, so it’ll be interesting.”

Taking the metal back from her, he secured them in the envelope and smiled, placing his hands on his hips, looking around the room.

“Next question.”

“Hm?” you let your breath out.

“Who’s going to be your fellow sacrifices?” He said it so plainly, you wondered if he’d said something else.

She blinked rapidly, shaking your head. “I beg your pardon?”

“Minos had seven maidens and seven striplings sacrificed to the minotaur each year.” He paused, rubbing his chin. “Or was it nine years?” He shrugged and shook his head. “But it’s a tradition, just a spectacle, and a simple foot race, because… Greek.” He chuckled. “And then I’ll have to carry you to the altar.” 

“Am I going to have to run from you with this?”you gestured to your stomach. “I think that’s a short race.” And knowing Rosso, he’d break the venue apart.

Picking you up, he kissed you.

“You know I’d always catch you anyway.”

“Implying I don’t let you.” You wrapped your arms around his neck. “And at the rate this baby’s growing, I’m going to be the size of seven maidens, anyway.”

“Aphrodite would be jealous of your beauty.” He nuzzled you, “She’d send you right to me, intending you to be a sacrifice. But that punishment would be a reward.”

“You’re playing with fire.” You warned, but couldn’t help but smile. His mood was a lot higher than before.

He kissed you again, setting you down and pulling out his phone. “I’m going to call the Herd and see if we can get something set up.” Holding it up, he began to snap pictures of the bassinet.

“Going to show them what we did?”

“Yep.” He frowned. “We still have to pick out a name…”

“One thing at a time.”

[iluvangel]

🖇·˚ ༘ ┊͙[Cleaning with the Akatsuki] ! ˊˎ {Akatsuki x reader}

FT - ITACHI, SASORI, PAIN, DAIDARA

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

𝑰𝑻𝑨𝑪𝑯𝑰 🥀 :

⭑ would love to clean the living room, the scene when he chases the chicken while trying to make food imagine that but he’s running around the living room vacuuming

⭑ he would despise having to clean the bathroom it would gross him out

⭑ he would have a bad habit of trying to do everything multiple times to ensure it’s clean. After his first time vacuuming he would walk around staring intensely at the carpet to make sure he didn’t miss a single thing, and then even tho he didn’t miss anything he would still go over it again just in case

⭑ he would be a psychopath and not listen to music while he cleans, however; when he cleans with you he dosnt mind when you put on a calm playlist (he definitely loves classical music) - If you did choose to put on a playlist then after his vacuuming and and ur dusting or organizing he would take ur hand and spin you to face him. He would start to slow dance pulling you in to follow his lead

⭑ after intensely running around the living room and giving the carpet a good stare down, he would make sure ur done as well and help if needed - then you both shower or bathe whichever you prefer - finally you both can relax in bed and watch a movie or simple hold each other as you both drift to sleep

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

𝑺𝑨𝑺𝑶𝑹𝑰 🪆 :

⭑ he wouldn’t particularly like cleaning but he would enjoy organizing (his tools and such) when he does get into the productive cleaning mood he would need a body double. He would appreciate you helping him clean but he wouldn’t want you moving his stuff around so most likely he’d ask you to sweep or dust

⭑ as I said he wouldn’t really like cleaning so it’s not what he doesn’t like to clean it’s what he does and what he will actually be willing to do

⭑ he would have a bad habit of getting easily distracted, not in the worst way but when he cleans and organize his tools he would think of new ideas for his puppets and start working on that instead (thus why he needs you to be there as his body double)

⭑ he would enjoy having music on but it would need to be low so he dosnt get distracted by it, when cleaning with you he would let you put on whatever playlist you want as long as it’s not on full volume

⭑ after organizing he would ask if your done, if you say yes he would go right back to cleaning signaling for you to sit on his lap to keep him company as he enjoyed it while cleaning more than he thought he would. If you say no he would let out a sigh and ask if you need help and what he can do to make help you get it done

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

𝒀𝑨𝑯𝑰𝑲𝑶 (𝑷𝑨𝑰𝑵) 🪦 :

⭑ if he’s in the mood for it he would go ham when cleaning, he would love to clean the kitchen as he finds doing the dishes and moping calming, but only when he’s in the mood for it

⭑ there’s nothing in particular he would complain about when it comes to what he would clean but if he doesn’t want to he won’t. He is pain, after all. No one can really tell him what to do

⭑ his bad habit would be spacing out just randomly as he’s mopping he would just stare at the floor

⭑ he wouldn’t really like music in the background, he would let you put your music on tho. However, he would prefer listening to you yap about whatever came to mind, he would find ur voice easy to get lost in

⭑ after cleaning he would lean against the wall and wait for you to finish, then as your done we would take you by the arm and bring you to the bathroom so you both could shower. And finally he would go back to work allowing you to stay with him only if you’re quiet. If you asked, after showering he would agree to a small nap or one movie before returning to work

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

𝑫𝑬𝑰𝑫𝑨𝑹𝑨 👅 :

⭑ he would hate cleaning, no such thing as a cleaning mood for him. You would have to do a lot of convincing and nagging for him to help you

⭑ his least favorite thing would be the bathroom, which is why it would be the room you force him to do first

⭑ “eww EWW! I can’t do it! It’s too gross” his bad habit would be complaining about everything because he knows if he does it enough you’ll let him go do something else as long as it’s cleaning related

⭑ he needs music if he’s going to be cleaning he would love listening to your playlists and hearing new artists

⭑ immediately after cleaning he would drag you into the freshly cleaned shower. Then you both would cuddle in bed and watch whatever he wants “you made me clean now you have to watch what I want, it’s only fair”

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

Click here for 🎀 Part 2 🎀

[catharusustulatus]

Steddie Drabble, sequel to this post.

TW: child abuse.

Steve doesn’t have much. Eddie had made them a list of things to grab before they’d headed over to the Harrington house, a list of clothes, toiletries, basics and such, with “shampoo” underlined and “bowling pin” circled. They’d borrowed an extra duffel from Marianne across the way, since they didn’t know if trash bags would be enough, and thank god they had, kid sure had a polo collection. But moving it all out of that place - nice car parked yet nobody home, they found, blood still on the carpet - and seeing it stacked up next to Eddie’s exploding menagerie were two different things. And it just seemed to Wayne, well, when Steve was up for it, maybe they’d go to the thrifty mart together.

Steve is quiet, on account of the pain he felt moving his face and the shyness he had shrunken into, having been quickly and sharply beaten and disowned and then thrust into a new life, a new space. Wayne knew it was different, going from a frequent guest who got to put on the charm to a hurting ball of need. To feel like a burden. He saw the same thing happen to Eddie, when he was a child; he changed from an energetic ragamuffin who’d visit Wayne once every couple months to a sad, angry teen who he had to figure out how to live with. But it had worked out. And seeing how gently Eddie cleans Steve’s bruised face, how he changes his whole schedule to take care of Steve, how he cuts fruit for Steve, hearing Eddie whisper Steve to sleep, he thinks it will work out again.

Wayne learns a lot about Steve over the next couple of weeks. He learns how good a cook Steve is, how good he is at making scrambled eggs, tuna melts. How his hair is a source of pride but also seems to show off how he’s doing, like it’s connected to his mood. Some days it’s sky-high and some days it’s flat until Eddie starts whistling up the walk. Wayne loves watching Steve’s hair puff up, his smile grow, and Eddie seems to do the trick. Wayne learns just about every shirt he has is striped, that he can’t hear that well on his left side, that he likes his toast burnt to a crisp.

One morning, a couple weeks after Steve becomes his second duckling, they’re both up early in the kitchen waiting for Eddie to rise. Steve is making bacon and pork sausage, shuffling the meat around and shuffling himself around, like he’s scared to say something. Finally Wayne says “what is it, son?” And Steve starts to cry, one slow beautiful tear down each cheek. He’s been looking better, lately, seeming brighter, but he’s still been holding his breath. It’s time to exhale.

“Thank you. For saving me,” Steve moves the pan to the back burner, meat cooked, looking away. Wayne turns the stove off, and folds Steve into his arms, chuckling. Steve smells like Eddie. Steve smells like Wayne’s tobacco.

“Ain’t no thing about it, boy,” Wayne whispers to Steve, trembling and clutching the spatula. “You’re safe. You’re family.” And he pulls away before he goes softer himself, coughs, turns the stove back on for Steve’s eggs. A small little smile creeps up on Steve’s lips, still shy but an agreement nonetheless. He’s home, making breakfast for those that love him. And later, they’ll go thrifting, get Steve a thicker winter coat, more kitchen tools, some striped pajamas.

[iapislazuli]

If there’s any other transgenders out there who (like me) used to hate showering bevause of dysphoria what helped me overcome it was encouraging neutrality in my brain about my body. No positivity or sugarcoating anything. I started thinking of my body as being like a car. My car needs to be cleaned and needs matinence and gas to work properly. Washing myself doesn’t hold any greater weight than, like, vacuuming the carpets in my car, or cleaning gunk off the windshield. It’s just something that has to be done. A car doesn’t feel weird about being washed, it doesn’t care, because it’s a car. Nobody thinks washing a car is weird, either. It’s a neutral activity. On a deeper level treating my body as “it’s not me, I just drive it” also helped with self perception issues. It maintains the important parts of needing to take care of myself (after all, if you let a car fall into disrepair, it’ll be hard to fix, and you won’t be able to drive it anymore), while not strictly tying who I am to what others see when they look at me (because my car isn’t me. It’s just a tool I use and maintain to accomplish important daily tasks). I’m sure I could word this more elegantly if I gave it more time but, yknow. You’re a car.

[l33bang24]

Clean Freak (One Shot)

Chan x Fem Reader x Minho

Summary: When cleaning becomes the top priority on Y/N’s to do list, sometimes eating becomes the least important thing. Thankfully, she has two people to remind her otherwise.

⚠️Warnings⚠️: cursing, OCD tendencies, little fluff, bug paranoia?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Not many days do I get like this, but when I do, I go out. It all started when I found a bug on our mattress pad when removing the bed sheets. I have this paranoia about finding bugs in places where they shouldn't be, and I go through this deep cleaning phase to potentially get rid of it and any eggs of its species. I stripped the whole bed, throwing all the sheets, comforter, and mattress pad in the washer and dryer. I pulled out my steamer and cleaned the mattress. Vacuumed the room, disinfectant it, anything I could do.

At this point, I've been going at this for hours but I couldn't stop. I wouldn't stop until I was satisfied. I didn't know when the boys came home until I heard someone speak out. “Oh no. What did you find?” I turn to see Minho there with his bag in hand. Before any words come out of my mouth, Chan appears. “Honey, why is the bed completely stripped and you scrubbing the hell out of that floor?”

“She’s in her cleaning mode. This one is worse than the others.” Minho tells Chan just from the look of the house. There are cleaning supplies scattered everywhere, along with cleaning tools. The laundry room is full of bedclothes and their everyday clothes. Y/N’s OCD just hit the fan and they came home to the aftermath of what she discovered.

Sighing, I turn to both, “When I stripped the bed, I found a carpet beetle on the mattress pad. I stripped everything and have been washing them. I was almost finished, but I just found and killed a dog flea.” I turned back to my cleaning since I wasn't done yet. Chan comes over to take the scrubber out of my hand. “Have you eaten today, baby girl?” I shake my head. Minho appears next, “Jagi, you need to eat something. I bet you only had a cup of coffee this morning, didn't you?” I tried denying it, but all three of us knew I would be lying.

“Baby, you need to go eat something. Let us take care of the rest of this, okay?” I nod, and before the following words come out of my mouth, Minho beats me to them. “We’ll make sure to put the bed sheets back on how they're supposed to go.” I can't help but smile. “We learned our lesson after last time.” Chan smiles at me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As all three of us lay in bed to sleep, I asked, “Did you remember to empty the vacuum?” Both of them stiffen on either side of me. I couldn't help but smirk to myself. “I knew you'd forget something.”

[haveyouanytime]

nsfw alphabet - tommy miller | minors + ageless blogs dni! it's my 19th birthday today (6/2) and i wanted to share this quick little thing i did for tommy both as a study and a way to get my groove back lol

౨ৎ daily click to help palestine 🍉

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) He’s sweet. He’ll just smother you in kisses, and for sure has accidentally started himself up again just from the amount of kisses he gives you. TBH he’s not the rush and clean-up guy, he’ll prefer to lay down with you and just chill with the vibes. Like, fall asleep naked type of chill. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) He takes care of his hair, I just know it. He lives by “look good, feel good,” and he knows his effort makes it look good. Extra bonus, he knows how good it feels when you run your fingers through his hair. On his partner, I feel like he loves hips. He just loves to hold and grab them. Whether they’re full or have some dips, he’s grabbing onto them. Steering you with them, both in and out of the bedroom.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) He absolutely refuses to cum before his partner does. Takes it seriously like it’s his life’s mission. You joked once saying he was edging himself when he did this, and he just chuckled it off, internally knowing it was partly true LOL! I think he prefers to cum inside of his partner, partly because of the intimacy of it all, partly because there’s no mess. 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) Methinks his dirty secret is that he kinda wants to fuck you in the woods post-outbreak LOL!!!! Of course, if he knew there were no infected in the area and nobody on patrol would catch you, yeah, I think he’d be down. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) I feel like he’s moderately experienced— he hasn’t slept with a crazy bunch of people, but he definitely had a mix of short and long-term girlfriends. (maybe a few one-night stands?) BUT when he’s with you it feels like he’s a sex god, just because of the dedication he has towards you and your body. We’re talking hours of dedication to finding what scratches your itch. 

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) I think it depends, same with his seriousness. If the sex is for pleasure and just having a good time, I think he likes doggy style. If it’s more a serious, loving, intimate manner, I think he likes anything where he can see your face and give you some kisses. 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) He can be reaaaally sweet and loving and intimate, but oh my god he is such a tease. Pre-outbreak, he’s doing anything to get a smile on your face. Maybe the same post-outbreak? Just a bit more of the serious. 

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) Preoutbreak, I can see a shave a little more often, but majorly trimming. Postoutbreak, I can see a trim, maybe a little shave just to keep it from going crazy. 

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) Pre outbreak, he can be romantic, but he’s a lot more fun. Post outbreak? I think he just uses it as a time to pour all his love out, to remind you that you’re his one. Everyday is a risk when he’s out on patrol, and he uses it as a grounding tool to feel your warmth when he’s back. 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) Very rare. I mean veeerrryy rare. Only if you’re apart for a while, or he’s really pent up or frustrated while you’re perioding or just not in the mood. 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) Breeding. He loves his niece, and he loves the idea of being a dad-- almost as much as he loves the idea of you round, carrying his child. And I don’t think he’d keep it a secret, I think he always tells you how much he loves the idea of starting a family. 

L = Location (favorite places to do the do) Bed, for both pre and post-outbreak. Pre-outbreak, I feel like he’d be a little adventurous and get you into the backseat of his truck as most. Post-outbreak, I think he’s a little (a lot) more cautious and prefers the confines of your house. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) YOU! Quite literally everything about his partner. From the sway of your hips, the curve of your neck, your eyes, lips, nose, hands, thighs, voice, tone, words, EVERYTHING! 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) I think he goes as far as his partner is comfortable, so anything that makes you feel uncomfortable is a no for him. Also, scorching-hot take apparently, but he would NOT share (especially with his brother tf.)

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) He’s such a man so he loves to receive, right, we get that, but when he gives…? Stars. Five stars, actually. Tens across the board. Gold metal. Top of the chart. And like I mentioned before, he’s practically studying your body and your reactions to see what to do correctly, so every time it’s like he gains more and more power. 

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) Depends? Depends. Pre-outbreak, he’s such a killer and prefers to pick up the pace and have fun while also mixing in slow and sensual nights. Post-outbreak, like I said, I think it’s majorly slow and sensual. But, maybe if he’s stressed or frustrated with the commune, or just needing a little quickie, then he’ll pick up the pace. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) Like I said before, quickies are rare post-outbreak. Maybe pre-outbreak they were just as rare? A little more often in comparison, when he just can’t get enough of you before he has to leave for work or something like that. 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) I think I’ve clarified what I think already, Tommy had to mature a lot post-outbreak. Not saying he wasn’t already mature, he was a grown man, but his want to experiment is gone. Like before, maybe he was down for a quickie in the backseat of his truck. Now, with the infected, his number one priority is keeping you safe. He can’t do that when he’s caught with his pants down, y’know? 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) He’s a military man, he’s a carpenter, he’s got some stamina. He can go a while, depending on the night. Some nights after long days of working with Joel on framing a house, he just wants to rest. Other nights, you seem like one of those Super Mario 1-Up mushrooms because he’s sprung back to life (in more than one way). 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) He’s such an ass omg— If you had any toys and he found them, he’d be so fussy and pouty saying that he can do even better than the toys do for you, and he’s right! 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) Oh. My. God. If there’s one thing that stayed, it’s how much he teases. He’s so the type to be walking past you, pull you in for a kiss, and keep walking past while you’re itching for more. Once he’s got you in bed, he’s even worse me thinks. And when he sees you weak in the knees, holding onto him, he just calls it his “southern charm.”

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) He groooaaannnssss. I just know it. Source: trust me and my delusions. I feel like certain moves or flicks of tongues could drive a whimper out of him-- which he will sternly deny ever happened. 

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) He got painfully hard when he taught you how to shoot his guns. He took you out to the range, set up his sniper rifle, taught you the proper position, and just the sight of you made him stiffer than a board. 

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) Call me Goldilocks because I can’t can’t explain it other than just right. His size isn’t too big, nor too wide, but I know he can steer that ship. My source? Trust me. 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) He could go on a while without any, he is a military man, after all… but why would he? LOL! But yeah, he can’t go long without it before whining but could go on a while longer without it before becoming SpongeBob thirsty. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) Preoutbreak, he’ll stay awake just as long as you do. He’s not a stranger to staying up later, just watching some TV, eating some food, bathing or showering, or just talking. Post Outbreak? My old man, he’s out like a light. He’s tired, okay!