#danish watches for men

[augustbergus]

Discover the Elegance of Men’s Serenity Watches by August Berg

[skitskatdacat63]

I've been stalking Javier Bardem's filmography, and I'm just dying at the fact that his typecast in the 90s seemed to be hunky male whore, I mean, well deserved but 😭

[rrait2q]

The Hunt (2012) / Mads Mikkelsen as Lucas

[friedmagazinebouquet]

Actually devastated that Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead is not talked about more often because that play is the single greatest thing ever and I WILL die on that hill

[finchers-ipad]

i bought two danish mads mikkelsen films on dvd for £5 as opposed to it costing an arm and a leg…live is sometimes beautiful

[ilonacho]

i keep thinking abt across the 🕷verse and burst into tears

[dreamings-free]

.

[thehmn]

I finally got to watch Viften (Empire) and it’s such a fascinating movie. It was written by Anna Neye who also plays Anna Heegaard, a rich free black woman who’s dating the Danish governor of the island.

It’s sold as an absurdist comedy and I think there’s no other way to describe it. There aren’t any real jokes but you often end up laughing at the absurdity of it all.

It’s extremely honest about the horrors Danes put the black population through but thankfully it only shows it in quick flashes of art as seen in the trailer. I once watched a video where they explained why most women aren’t into slasher movies and why black people generally don’t rewatch movies about racism and slavery. It’s because the the horrors shown are very real fears and a fact of life so the only people who can really enjoy watching a woman get horribly murdered as entertaining are men and only white people can watch a black person getting whipped to death with cinematic lighting and have a fun night out. By showing the horrors in art they get to be clear about exactly what is going on without coming off as exploitative.

But it’s also very honest about the ways a society based on slavery fucks with everyone. Most of the servants at the manor are slaves except the cook who bought her own freedom years ago. She tells the housekeeper Petrine that some day she too will be able to buy her freedom and get her own slave. That’s right, the freed black people aspire to get their own slaves because that’s the sort of values a society like this instills in people. And Anna tries to be as nice as possible to her own slaves but doesn’t take her own success for granted and is more afraid of an uprising than her white lover and ends up doing some really horrible things to her slaves to keep them down.

It also touches on how people viewed being black or white back then. That it wasn’t all about skin colour but also status. That’s why all the white people treat Anna as one of them. She’s a rich, educated lady so of course she’s “white”. Even Anna express contempt at being called black because she doesn’t work in the field. The poor freed black people also call Petrine white because she dress and acts like a Dane. Not as in “you are pretending to be white” but as in you are white.

And hats off to the director Frederikke Aspöck. There’s a scene where a woman buys her freedom and they put on a symbolic slave auction where she gets up on the podium and bids on herself. All the white neighbors have come to witness it because it’s seen as this joyous day and they all clap, she’s offered to drink with them and she’s all smiles. The director managed to make the scene wholesome while highlighting the absurdity of it and all you can do is chuckle because what the fuck? The white people think it’s a good thing that she’s free but continue to keep and mistreat their own slaves, and she no doubt dreams of getting her own down the road. It’s very much depicted as institutionalized racism and not just “a few bad eggs”.

And I didn’t know where to put this but there’s a lot of interesting symbolism going on with Anna’s dresses. She always wears dresses that match the colors of the rooms she’s in, establishing her as fully part of the system, but as she begins to realize that the Danish state will never see her as fully equal her colors start to clash with her surroundings.

I watched it on Netflix and it has English subtitles so it should be somewhere for English speakers to watch if you feel so inclined.

[mrs-stans]

Sebastian Stan

Words Natty Kasambala

Beloved for Captain America, I, Tonya, and his recent Emmy-nominated role in Pam & Tommy, Stan reflects on a career shaped by diverse characters. Now, with A Different Man and The Apprentice, he’s exploring deep questions about identity, ambition, and the complexities of portraying one of America’s most influential (and controversial) men, Donald Trump

Sebastian Stan wears Rag & Bone throughout. Photography Jim Goldberg

The first time Sebastian Stan tried acting, he hated it. At 9 or 10 years old, he played a Romanian orphan in an Austrian film called 71 Fragments of a Chronology of Chance (1994). Between the waiting around, night shoots, and general pressure-cooker energy, the whole experience had been pretty anxiety-inducing. “I think the idea of a set was just really terrifying,” he recalls. The 42-year-old mainstay admits to being a Leo, but a rather reluctant one, he says, not that extroverted or hypersocial. “I know my mom always thought I was creative simply because I would impersonate the people in our family, or birds or whatever I would see around me.” Nowadays, when he does speak, it’s with the compelling ease of someone who’s spent equal time commanding impressive rooms and in their own head trying to crack the great questions of the world – sounding off passionately about the perils of social media (“there’s so much noise in today’s world”) or the last incredible film he watched (Sing Sing and it was “pure heart”).

Born in Romania and raised in Vienna until he was 12, it wasn’t until immigrating to America as a preteen that Stan found his way back to the craft at all. Attending Stagedoor Manor summer camp aged 15, in the Catskill mountains of upstate New York, his spark was reignited. “That place was really magical and made me fall in love with (acting again); I couldn’t think of anything else as exciting to me as performing was,” he says. “Some of it was about not ever being sure of what to be when I grew up. I kept thinking that you could be a lot of things if you did this.”

So far, he’s been a wayward socialite, a cannibal, a space surgeon, a ski patrol villain, a heavy metal drummer, a supernatural student and a World War II veteran turned brainwashed Soviet operative, to n ame but a few. He’s not an actor you’ll find in the same role twice. With that said, his name has reached household status through a decade-long Marvel stint, with the two films Stan finds himself at the helm of this year being his most ambitious forays yet. 33 years on from his awkward beginning, the actor’s commitment to film appears to still be very much in bloom. “I think I’m at a point in my life where I’m trying to understand things on a deeper level,” he explains. “I can’t say I know everything, you’re always growing, always having to explore. I think it’s important to stay curious, to stay in a certain degree of healthy discomfort… I want to be part of important storytelling that’s asking important questions and reflecting our time.”

In A Different Man, an A24 production directed by Aaron Schimberg, Stan takes on the role of an aspiring actor called Edward with neurofibromatosis, a genetic condition that results in the extensive growth of benign tumours. He undergoes a clinical trial that cures him of his physical symptoms, but his new life turns out to be far from what he dreamed for himself. It’s a winding surrealist investigation into the social impacts of disability, alienation, representation and self-image: its gaze is unflinching, its narrative self-referential and its humour pitch-black. Stan has already won the Silver Bear for Best Leading Performance at the Berlin Film Festival for A Different Man.

The second release, The Apprentice, follows a wildly different arc. Directed by Iranian-Danish filmmaker Ali Abbasi, it tracks a young Trump as he falls under the nefarious mentorship of infamous legislator Roy Cohn. Dubbed ‘an American Horror Story’, it’s a sobering yet deeply entertaining snapshot of the making of one of America’s most influential men. Yet even within the dynamic, prescient story, the actor’s take on Trump is subtle and human, and the tone of the film is less moralising and more matter of fact.

Though the narratives of these two projects are starkly different, you can’t help but find the common threads. Both are set in New York and document a transformation, and both centre a feverish pursuit of some ideal imagined self. A Different Man was filmed back in 2022, and The Apprentice only wrapped in February of this year, but Stan agrees it’s a curious double-header. “I’m weirdly finding parallels between them that I never thought I would. Identity, self-truth, self-abandonment. This idea that we’re always chasing in America, whether it’s image or status or an inability to accept failure and to take ownership over mistakes.”

For the Trump film, that real-life denial was almost the ending of their work of fiction. After years of false starts, Trump’s legal team attempted to block the film’s release in the US altogether and they struggled to find a distributor willing to take on the risk of pissing off a potential President. “For to edit it and get it to Cannes in some finished version itself in five months was just insane. There was no idea if the movie was going to come out,” Stan says. On an individual level, the task felt equally murky and intimidating at first. “You’re trying to tell a story about somebody that’s so famous, who everyone has an opinion about: either extreme love and adoration or hate and animosity. And everyone’s got a version of the guy, so you think, well what do I…” he shrugs, “how do I find my way into it?” Ultimately, they landed on this film as a means of peeling back the layers of one of the most polarising figures of our time. It’s less caricature and more character study as it explores his relationship with his father, his ambitions, the man he was before the slogans and affectations.

Executive producer Amy Baer has spoken about the choice to call on a non-American director to provide a new lens on the intricacies of American culture, propaganda and patriotism. With Stan’s own immigrant story, his perspective adds another dimension to that prism too. Memories of walking down Fifth Avenue in awe and wonder as a kid, staring up at all the big buildings – he tapped into a hunger and drive to portray early Trump as a young man desperately trying to be a part of The Club. “I guess with my experience coming to this country, it was communicated to me even from Eastern Europe that this is the place where you can make something of yourself, you can have a good idea… and you could just succeed,” Stan says. The Apprentice asks, “but at what cost? What happens to a person’s humanity?”

Throughout the film, you witness Trump espousing about “bringing back New York”, even remarking on Reagan’s campaign slogan ‘Let’s Make America Great Again’ towards the end, an ideology he would go on to repurpose for his own candidacy. It’s a fascinating yet depressing origin story of a nationalistic rhetoric that echoes today as a Trojan horse for corruption and greed. “It’s complicated. That’s why I think there’s value in exploring it,” Stan urges. “This American Dream idea is a really powerful driving force that also comes with consequences.”

Perhaps the most complex part was the toxic relationship with his sometimes-partner-in-crime played staggeringly by Jeremy Strong. “I think he was the best partner I’ve ever had in anything I’ve worked on,” Stan declares with a smile. “You know when you’re standing in front of a fire and you feel the heat of it and there’s crackling in the air? That’s how it felt.” Amidst quite a gruelling, isolating filming schedule, it’s the aspect Stan speaks about most fondly.

Clothing Fendi, Necklace & Bracelet Cartier, Boots Givenchy

Swinging between dominant and intimate, transactional and paternal, from comical to devastating, both stayed in character throughout the shoot and undertook a colossal amount of research to be prepared for infinite possible improvised routes. “Creatively, makes things interesting is when you’re not in control. You do all this preparation to be prepared to be surprised,” Stan says. Shot documentary-style in moments, Abbasi might give each of them notes in private to shift the tone of a scene, and they’d find themselves responding instinctively within their roles. “The only way you can achieve that is if, to some degree, you find that person in you. And I can certainly tell you,” he pauses briefly to consider his landing. “There is a version of Trump that existed in me. And I’ll make the argument that there’s a version of Trump that exists in all of us. And that part of our job, part of our interest, should be figuring out what that is. I think we have to acknowledge and expose the things in us that are not so easy to admit, in order to further protect the things we need to fight for. You can’t ignore it.”

In that moment, it’s clear that it’s an argument as true of our discourse on Trump as it is of Stan’s other role in A Different Man. His character Edward is driven to obsession and madness when he witnesses the thriving life of a person with the same disfigurement he was quick to shed, the very thing he believed to be the root of all his misfortune. Right before his transformation, Edward has been ignoring a leak in his ceiling for weeks, and the damage is getting worse. When he’s finally forced to call for a repair, the super arrives and is appalled at how bad he’s allowed it to get. He tells Edward frustratedly, “you should have fixed this sooner”. In that moment, it feels as though he’s talking about a hundred things at once. From Edward’s own issues with doubt and self-acceptance that cling to him even when he is no longer ‘different’ to our own society’s discomfort with, and the misunderstanding of disability altogether. We cannot be afraid to look.

“Edward makes a decision that he thinks is going to improve his life, but he’s not making it for himself. He’s making it because he’s watched other people and he’s grown up in a society that’s told him this is what works,” Stan explains. “Essentially, he abandons himself and he spirals down trying to further live with that painful acknowledgement. I think we have to be conscious of when we’re making decisions that go against who we are and what we truly want.”

In true indie style, squeezing in around the schedule of their makeup artist who was on another project at the same time, Stan had some hours to kill most mornings in prosthetics before filming which he’d spend navigating the city he calls home: “one of the gifts that I was given which I’m very grateful for was the experience that I had walking around New York City as Edward.” With reactions to him ranging from invisibility to hypervisibility, it shifted his entire understanding.

“I’ve been there like everybody else thinking, oh, if I had that. Or you see someone on Instagram and you’re like, oh my God, look at that life, they have the best life; you get caught up in these things.” It’s both reassuring and a little disheartening that, unlike his superhuman alter ego, a star like Stan is still not immune to the very human insecurities us civilians face of joy-stealing comparisons. “There’s this idea I’ve been thinking about a lot with my therapist actually,” he laughs. “He was saying ‘I am me and you are you.’ I was like… yeah! But you forget. We have to understand our own experience and then understand someone else’s. But we have to try to understand it not through our own emotional… vomit.”

When I ask Sebastian what he does for fun, to unbecome his characters and shed their existential weight, he cites reading (mostly non-fiction) and travel (to see other cultures). “I always feel like I’m not learning enough,” he laughs. You get the sense that this year is a juncture for Stan, always revered for being grounded and likeable, but perhaps waiting for opportunities like these to enrich and express other sides of himself as an actor and voice within culture. “Both of these films came at an interesting time where I’m thinking about if I’m at mid-life, this second half of my life. What is it that I want to be a part of and one day look back and be proud of?”

And that’s not to say fun is off the table for Stan. He’s passionate about laughter as a release in a difficult world. “I think it’s just as important, we have to protect humour,” he tells me with an urgency. “I love comedies, romantic comedies, action.” In fact, there’s a top-secret action movie passion project that he has in the works and hopes will come together in the right way. “There are also things in Marvel I want to do and explore with ol’ Bucky Barnes,” he smiles, presumably in reference to the new Marvel film Thunderbolts, slated for a 2025 release, in which he stars alongside Florence Pugh, Harrison Ford and David Harbour. “Otherwise I just want to keep learning how to be a human being. I’m telling you,” he laughs, “I feel like it’s pretty hard.”

Photography Jim Goldberg Styling Reuben Esser Production Hyperion LA Hair Jamie Taylor using Augustinus Bader Hair Erica Adams Represented by A-Frame Agency

[kuwdora]

Saturday Morning Vid Recs - Women!

Back in January I told @poetikat that I wanted to share just a fraction of vids I’ve seen since I started vidding in 2007 that I love. Taken me forever to format the links into a post to share. I have several more posts half-finished and may show up on your dashboard in following weeks or months.

I'm reccing vids that are at least 1 year old, but most of these vids are 4 and 8 and 12 years old and sometimes older. These vids feature a variety of sources, characters, genres of music, genres of shows. Each of these vidders have their own style and the way they approach a song or a source. I love these vids, they're fun to watch, they're hot, mesmerizing, engaging, thoughtful, full of love and horniness and BAMFs and joy and struggle. I love. I love.

I give to you 23 vids for this weekend's theme:

Women!!

Learning to Fly by rhoboat. Beautiful Boxer (2004). A movie vid based on trans Thai boxer Nong Toom’s life. This song is so good showing her journey to learning to find herself and fly! Ako Te Reo by bironic. Rūrangi (2020). Ana learning Te Reo Māori. This vid is so wonderful! It's never too late to learn. Come on Feet by JinkyO. Pumzi (2009). The song choice and pacing is incredible for this Kenyan sci-fi film. Something has to keep us moving forward. Black Nails by fightingarrival. A League of their Own (2022). A Max vid that is a great look at her journey on the show. This vid makes me want to rewatch all her scenes all over again. Here, take this L. Damned if She Do by chaila. Borgen. This source is the Danish political drama Borgen. Birgette is so kick-ass and this song is perfect for her. She come alive when she dying. "Nearly all men can stand adversity, but if you want to test a man's character, give him power." Strict Machine by such_heights. Doctor Who. River Song. I’m in love with River Song so of course I have to rec this. I get high on a buzz then a rush when I'm plugged in you. Counting Stars by beccatoria. DC Animated Wonder Woman. Beccatoria has always done such a great job of vidding animated source and WOMEN!!!! Superstar by @heresluck. Buffy the Vampire Slayer. A Faith vid. This (one of many) epic Faith vids to come out of vidding fandom over the years. This vid lives rent free in my head. But I would pay this vid to live in my head because I love it so much. Never gonna be the same again.

Down & Dirty by @sweeter-than. Killjoys. A Dutch fanvid! A++ song choice for a character study showing her relationship with the Jacobi brothers and her general awesomeness. Make way. Cut Like a Buffalo by kiki_miserychic. Empire. Cookie Lyon fanvid! Cookie has all the skin in the game and she is so good at music, but damn there’s so much bullshit she has to deal with along the way. Yeah, you know I look like a woman but I / Cut like a buffalo / Stand up like a tower, tall / Then I fall just like a domino. Control: A Monstress Fanvid by garrideb. Based on the comic Monstress. You know this Halsey song + any woman who has been Going Through It is going to be a fucking ride. Great editing, amazing art. Fortunate One by @moocowmoocow The Expanse. CAMINA!!! DRUMMER!!!! A Sleater-Kinney cover of Fortunate Son is 10 million kinds of brilliance here for Camina and this source. I ain't no fortunate one. Celebrity Skin by @some-stars. Black Sails. This is an Eleanor and Max character vid. I repeat: Elenor and Max vid to Courtney Love’s music. Heed the warnings. This vid is so goddamn good. It better be worth it. Double Woman by starlady. Detective Dee and the Mystery of the Phantom Flame. So much awesomeness packed into this vid. Through the camera lens re-editing history gives imagination to the people. Wu Zetian and Shangguang Jing'er are awesome. Hooray for awesome ladies of the Tang Dynasty! Titanium by giandujakiss. Wonder Woman (the original tv show). She is titanium! Suffering Sappho.

Mirrors by @kuwdora. Snow White and the Huntsman. Queen/Snow. Lots of fantasy imagery and bdsm like themes since the Queen wants to suck the youth from Snow. Sex. Love. Control. Vanity. Lightning Field by bradcpu, a Legend of the Seeker fanvid of Cara/Kahlan. The imagery in this vid is outstanding, the tone the atmosphere. I have rewatched this more times than I can count. Strike me down, Give it everything you've got. Hands Away by chaila and beccatoria. Sarah Connor Chronicles/Fringe. Sarah/Olivia constructed reality fanvid that is constructed really really fucking well that you might forget that these are two different shows. I can't reach you. (Or, two messiahs walk into an alternate reality) Hurricane by @laurashapiro. Farscape and Battlestar Galactica, Starbuck/Aeryn.This vid is so epic and hot and incredible...Hot and sexy and can’t take your eyes off them. Two pilots walk into a bar. I Wanna Go by millylicious, a multi-source action vid Angelia Jolie tribute. This is fun and delightful. Space Girl by charmax. Multi-source space women and girls! My momma told me I should never watch Sci-fi but I did, I did, I did. Celebration by sweetestrain. Pop divas. Madonna, Rihanna, Lady Gaga, Beyonce, etc. Another one of my favorites of favorites. The connected imagery between all of these music videos still blows my mind, but goes to show you how pop music continues to build and evolve from each other. Plus sexy dancing. If it makes you feel good. Your Song by anoel. Multi-fandom. One of the most epic sapphic/wlw vids out there. I don’t wanna hear sad songs anymore, I only wanna hear love songs.

Hope you like these recs! Follow the tags to keep up #saturday morning vid recs and/or #kuwdora recs

EDITING TO ADD: How to Leave Feedback on Fanvids

[augustbergus]

Exploring Iconic Vintage Men’s Watch Brands: A Horological History

[hannibalruinedme]

More people need to watch Mads Mikkelsen's Danish films.

I'm an avid film enthusiast and also very picky about the films I watch. Then hannibal happened and the rest is history...( now you'd catch me watching Ads on YouTube cause it has Mads's shadow in it lol. Karma)

Once I fell in love with Mads Mikkelsen and Hugh Dancy I decided to watch most of their existing individual projects and I started of with Mads and HOLY SHIT!?!

Now I've always known that Mads Mikkelsen is a tremendously good actor but what I didn't expect is to fall in love with Danish films :").

I've absolutely loved:

- Another Round. (I'VE NEVER SEEN A MORE BEAUTIFUL ENDING SEQUENCE OF A MOVIE. I Can't-)

-The promised land. (IT'S REALLY GOOD)

- Adam's Apple. (Unexpectedly beautiful. Personal fav)

-Flickering Lights. (Heartwarming watch)

-Men and Chicken. (ELIAS IS A BABY)

-Riders of Justice (Heartwarming watch + DADDY MADS DADDY MADS)

So far and I'm planning on watching ALL of his films eventually! He's such a versatile actor 👏! HIS DANISH FILMS DESERVE MORE RECOGNITION Y'ALL!

[universitypenguin]

Summary: Lloyd delays telling Princess about her stalker’s identity. Vivian has a medical appointment, which leads to an episode of babysitting where Lloyd bonds with a three-year-old. Meanwhile, an unexpected event kicks the serial killer investigation into high gear.

Masterlist

Word Count: 6,866

Warnings: Smut, erotica level explicitness, impact play (Lloyd spanks Princess), and semi-rough sex. Criminal activity including stalking, kidnapping, and murder. Mention of child abandonment and dysfunctional family dynamics.

Chapter 22

From your perch on a barstool, you watched Lloyd stir a pot on the stove. He wore a snug pair of boxer briefs and nothing else. You decided this was your favorite look on him. Lloyd glanced over his shoulder and caught you staring. He smirked.

“See something you like, Princess?”

“Mmmhh. You’re like a real life Calvin Klein model, and you’re cooking me dinner.”

Lloyd snorted. “Their current poster boy is what, twenty-one?”

“I don’t know. Calvin Klein models were more of a middle school fantasy for me.”

“Which models, specifically?” he asked.

“The ones featured during the South African World Cup. The internet was plastered with their photos. You don’t remember?”

“Twelve years ago I was in Afghanistan. They don’t allow underwear commercials.”

“Well, I can’t remember his name, but he was a Danish soccer player, who was like three times my age.”

“You were drooling over thirty-six-year-old men when you were twelve?”

“What? He had really great abs.”

Lloyd shook his head, returning his attention to the pot of soup simmering on the stove.

“They were inescapable, and I had a lot of hormones, okay? All those delicious muscles slathered in baby oil was my sexual awakening.”

“Once you hit thirty, you’ll feel more comfortable thinking about sexual awakenings happening around the age of sixteen, or even better, seventeen.”

You laughed. “That’s not reality.”

He flicked off the burner and winked. “Once you eat something, let’s talk about these soccer player fantasies. I want details.”

“Don’t get your hopes up - I wasn’t old enough to fill in the details. Now, my highschool fantasies? Those are worth talking about.”

Lloyd caught you around the waist and pulled you into his lap when you moved to sit down at the dining room table. You giggled when his hands snuck under the hem of the button down dress shirt you wore, exploring the bare skin he found there.

“No panties?”

“Your dress shirt was all I could find. Someone must have stolen my clothes.”

“What a tragedy,” Lloyd murmured, nuzzling your cheek.

You giggled when his mustache tickled your neck. He kissed along your throat and across your jaw and chin, before finding your lips.

“First we eat, then you tell me everything,” he said.

Eating in Lloyd’s lap was surprisingly comfortable. He didn’t insist on feeding you and didn’t mind when you stole the spoon for yourself. After consuming half of the bowl, you handed it back to him and curled against him while he finished the dish. You sighed, content.

“See, this is even better than my fantasies. You can actually cook-”

“This hardly counts, it’s just soup.”

You ignored him, continuing, “-and you have chest hair. I didn’t know there was such a thing as a chest hair kink, but I definitely have one.”

Lloyd groaned as you traced the whorl pattern of hair on his right pectoral.

“Plus, you’re warm.”

“You’ll be all over me this winter, won’t you?” he said.

“Arm candy, bed warmer, and he’s smart? You really are the whole package, aren’t you?”

You stroked a zigzag pattern through the dark brown hairs of his happy trail just above the waistband of his boxers.

“Princess… you’re playing with fire.”

You smirked at his gravelly voice. “No, I’m not. You already turned off the stove.”

He grunted when you straddled him. The position put your breasts at the same height as his mouth. Lloyd nuzzled their upper swells as you sank your finger into his hair, petting the short strands at the back of his neck.

Lloyd unbuttoned your dress shirt and examined your breasts.

“Still sore?”

“They’re definitely tender.”

He rubbed one and you hissed.

“Yeah, that’s going to sting for a while,” he said.

“It’s not a bad sore, just kind of… raw?”

“Well, I did promise you raw nipples, didn’t I?”

“And a sore ass.”

Lloyd glanced up through his lashes. “I’m glad you brought that up, Princess. It reminds me… I only delivered on half of my promise.”

“Huh?”

“I gave you instructions, and you disobeyed me. That warrants punishment, don’t you think?”

“Lloyd, I’ve never let anyone paddle my ass, and if you think-”

He moved too fast for you to protest, manhandling you so you lay chest down, spread over his thighs. Your breasts pressed against his leg and you moaned at the pressure on your aching nipples. Tension coiled in your belly as excitement heightened your sensitivity, making the raw flesh sting.

“Lloyd!”

“Scoot up. I suggest you cooperate because if I don’t spank you, I’m going to have to come up with another punishment. I have a few ideas…”

The butt plug and lube in his nightstand drawer flashed through your head. You scooted forward.

“Good girl, so obedient. I think you want to be punished, don’t you?”

You whimpered at his velvety voice. “Y-yes…”

Lloyd ran a calloused hand over the back of your thighs. “I’ve been thinking of smacking this pretty ass for a long time, Princess.”

That piqued your interest. “How long?”

“Too long,” he said, caressing your bottom.

“The first day you met me?”

“The second day. That pencil skirt, the one that goes past your knees? It’s blue and tight.”

You suddenly regretted donating that skirt last year during a closet declutter, even if it was a size too small.

“On the day you gave me your first research file, that’s what you wore. I still can’t forget how good your ass looked as you walked away. Last chance to back out, Princess.”

You squirmed, but didn’t object.

Lloyd grunted. “Princess, use your words.”

“I don’t think you have the guts to-”

His palm cracked on your left ass cheek. You gasped, stunned by the blow. He slapped the other side with the same force and you cried out. He pinched the fleshy part of your inner thighs between his thumb and forefinger, hard, eliciting a yelp.

“Don’t hold your breath. If you do, you’ll pass out,” Lloyd said.

Then his palm cracked against your skin. The sides alternated: left cheek, right, left, left, right…

“Lloyd!”

You surged up, only to have his forearm shoved into the small of your back, pinning you down.

“Arch your back, Princess. Keep your ass in the air, practice makes perfect.”

“Ow, Lloyd! That hurts!”

“It’s supposed to. You can’t follow instructions, then you pay the price, my naughty… little… fucktoy,” he hissed, punctuating the last three words with a smack.

Your back arched.

“Please! Fucking hell, Lloyd! Damn it, oh!”

You struggled to get enough leverage to escape, but he was too strong.

“Next time you’ll arch your back just like this, won’t you? You’ll be a good girl and keep your chest down and your ass up, huh?”

“Gaaahhh!” you screamed when he peppered a series of blows on a spot that was already aching.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…! Lloyd, please!”

He wasn’t holding back and despite the pain, his spanking was having the strangest effect on your body. It was turning you on. Your protests were born from shock and confusion, because you hadn’t expected this to hurt so much. The pain was the shocking part; the confusing part was that you hadn’t dreamed it would feel so good.

Yet, your toes were curling and your legs stiffened with each stinging swat. Every strike aroused you further. The harsher the sting of his hand, the sweeter the pleasure in your pussy. It was like the sting traveled through you, racing through nerves and transferring the heat of burning slaps on your skin to the inferno deep in your core. Your pussy was throbbing with a fire that was more intense than pain. Then his next blow triggered a cry that had nothing to do with discomfort.

Your thighs flexed and your toes curled as your shriek tapered off into a needy, hungry sound.

“Oh, fuck… Lloyd…”

You whimpered and rocked against his thigh, groaning at the overwhelming rush of pleasure, mingled with pain.

Lloyd cooed. “That’s my girl. Your pussy’s dripping down my leg.”

Your nipples tingled, still raw from their earlier treatment. You were panting and shivering, sweat trickling down your neck. He switched hands, and you squealed at the next barrage of unrelenting slaps. The line between what was pleasure and what was pain ceased to exist. You were acutely aware of the pulsating heat in your nipples and the hardness of Lloyd’s cock pressing against your belly.

The feelings his spanking elicited now were sharp and hot, causing your moans to drop into a lower register as you rocked back to meet each blow. Slowly, he eased into a gentler pace, delivering milder smacks.

Your chest was heaving as darkness danced on the edge of your vision.

“Breathe, Princess.”

You gasped.

“That’s it, good girl.”

His fingers brushed your sex, and you wailed, shuddering at the intensity of the sensation. Your back arched when he stroked your abused skin. The gentle caress made you keen.

Lloyd hauled you upright, turning you so your back pressed against his chest. Without his support you’d have slid to the floor. Your body buzzed with an urgent need and you mewled as he gently palmed your breasts.

You moaned, caught in the grip of a sensation somewhere between pain and immense pleasure.

“There, there, Princess. You’re okay. Next time, what are you going to do? Hmm?”

“Keep… my ass… up,” you sniffed, fighting back tears.

He rubbed the backs of his knuckles against the side of your breasts. “You’ll keep your ass up, and?”

“Chest down,” you whispered.

“That’s a good girl. We’ll try again when your nipples aren’t sore and you can show me what an obedient little fucktoy you are.”

You whined, thighs clenching. Tears were falling and your ass stung but you were so turned on that the pleasure was acutely uncomfortable. Lloyd’s hands drifted from your breasts to roam your body, tracing your waist, belly, and hips. He skimmed your thighs, tugging them apart until you spread them wide, giving him unrestricted access. His fingers dipped into your sex.

“Aw, fucking hell. That pussy’s drenched for me. I knew you’d like your spanking, naughty girls always do.”

He pinched your tender nipple, and you keened, tipping into a state of delirium. Your head fell back against his shoulder as your body went lax. Lloyd murmured something approving, but the words were lost in the buzz of euphoria that echoed in your ears. You couldn’t stop trembling.

Lloyd’s fingers breached your cunt, probing your g-spot.

“Yeah, gush all over my fingers. That’s my Princess, so fucking responsive. You’re spent, but this creamy little pussy just can’t get enough, can it? She’s throbbing. I bet it aches worse than your ass.”

He used his free hand to tease your clit, and you bucked, sobbing from the intense pleasure. You grasped his wrist to ease the friction and Lloyd snarled.

“Cut that out, or I’ll put you over my knee again.”

He spread your pussy open and stroked your entrance, collecting juices and swirling them over your clit.

“Come on my fingers, Princess.”

After issuing the command, he worked your clit hard. Within seconds you jackknifed from a lightning flash of pleasure that almost made you surge out of his arms. Lloyd nipped at your neck and the unexpected sensation made you shudder. His teeth sank into your skin as your body rolled with waves of ecstasy.

When you came down from the high, you felt the hardness under your thigh and squirmed. Lloyd allowed you to slide off his lap but caught your hips to steady you when your knees wobbled. After taking a second to get your bearings, you turned to face Lloyd, then sank to your knees between his legs.

Surprise flickered in his eyes but he lifted his hips, cooperating as you pulled down his boxers. The thick, ruddy cock sprang free, and you grasped it by the base, then licked at its weeping head. Lloyd groaned, shoving himself past your lips in a silent demand. You accepted him eagerly, wiggling your tongue against the underside of his cock.

“Yeah, just like that…”

He guided your head, showing you the tempo he preferred, then let go once you’d adopted the pace.

“Harder,” he murmured, voice rough with arousal.

You hollowed your cheeks and gripped him tighter. He hadn’t tried to push into your throat, which only made you more excited to perform the act. Relaxing your jaw, you inhaled through your nose and took him as deep as you could.

Lloyd gasped. His cock twitched in your throat, and you swallowed reflexively, moaning. When you couldn’t hold the position anymore, you pulled back, gagging. After another deep breath, you braced your hands on his thighs and repeated the maneuver. He was restrained, and that emboldened you to swallow harder, pushing yourself out of your comfort zone. You kept your hands on his thighs out of caution, aware that his good behavior might end at any moment.

The self-protection didn’t prove necessary. Going down on Lloyd was fun. He wasn’t pushy, and he was vocal about his pleasure. The slurred praise he offered when you took him deep made you quiver with excitement. When your jaw needed a break, you ran your tongue over his balls, laving the swollen sac and basking in the rough, male noises that rewarded your efforts.

You chipped in surprise when Lloyd hauled you to your feet. He jerked you onto his lap, cupping your ass while he aligned your bodies. His thick erection grazed your clit. The sensation was so intense that you jerked away. Lloyd growled, hauling you back down.

“Come on, relax for me, Princess. I know you’re desperate to be filled.”

He was right. Sucking him off had triggered a fresh wave of arousal that had fire licking at your core. Lloyd captured one of your battered nipples in his mouth and sucked, purring when you trembled in response. He released it and caressed your hips, then stroked his palms over the tender skin of your buttocks.

“Ready, sweetheart?”

You pressed your forehead against his and whimpered as his cock probed the entrance to your pussy. “Yes… Please, fuck me.”

He thrust up hard, impaling you with a single stroke. You screamed and dug your nails into his shoulders.

“Ah, fuck! Lloyd!”

“Shh… relax. Let me in. I know, I know. This is a new angle for you, isn’t it?”

He felt huge like this. The girth was too intense and you scrambled to adjust, hooking your ankles over his knees and raising your hips. Lloyd kneaded your ass, causing a rush of pleasure and pain that flooded your pussy with juices and allowed you to sink down a little further.

You groaned, thighs quivering as you struggled to hold yourself up. You were afraid your legs would give out, and you’d be impaled again. Lloyd claimed your mouth and kissed you. HIs mouth was slow and sensual and coaxed you into relaxing. You rolled your hips and whimpered when he slid deep, brushing a spot that made you quiver. He grasped your hips and pushed them back, then drew them forward.

You gasped at the sensation.

Lloyd paused. “Too deep?”

“N-n-no… Oh, fuck…”

You squirmed and tried to mimic the maneuver. Lloyd moaned.

“Atta girl, baby. Get yourself off on my cock.”

Your hips snapped harder at his encouragement. When he sucked delicately on one of your nipples, you keened. You lost your rhythm, but it didn’t matter because Lloyd took control. He used your body’s weight to guide your hips in quick tempo, rooting himself as deep as possible with every stroke. Your legs shook violently and when the orgasm hit, you screamed, unraveling into sobs of overwhelmed pleasure.

Lloyd took advantage of the deep angle. The ripples of your channel seemed to aim his cock right at the sweet spot that made you quiver and turned your muscles to Jell-O. His thrusts became rougher and harder, and your pussy creamed. You cried, disoriented, helpless against the unrestrained response of your body. All you could do was hang on and shudder as your eyes rolled back in your head and Lloyd’s hands guided your hips through the last of the orgasm.

He hissed your name and his seed flooded your womb, triggering another orgasm that wracked your exhausted muscles. After the final burst of ecstasy, your head fell into the crook of Lloyd’s neck and he wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you tight.

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

Lloyd broke from his usual routine and silenced his alarm at 4 a.m.

He nestled against you, grateful that you were sleeping deeply, and therefore accepting of his intrusion into your side of the bed. When you were half-awake and still trying to cling to sleep you were very territorial about your personal space. He relished the victory of getting to hold you like this and pressed his forehead against the back of your neck. You slept soundly in these early hours, which sometimes allowed him to indulge in the affection he craved without disturbing you. Although he’d only intended to cuddle, he succumbed to sleep within minutes.

The buzzing of his phone woke him. Scowling at the time - it was just after six - he answered the unknown number.

“What do you want?”

“Hello, Lloyd.”

Lloyd’s nostrils flared. “Why are you calling me?”

“Is that how you greet an old friend?”

“We aren’t friends.”

“Fair point. Wait, don’t hang up. I have a new lead,” Court Gentry said.

Lloyd hesitated, his finger over the end call button.

“Go on.”

“The spy is trying to access files from B&H’s patent department. If they do, it’ll pose a threat to national security - a significant threat.”

“Then call Clayton Bishop, or the FBI - anyone but me,” Lloyd replied.

“Trust me, if I could, I would. You’re the only person I’m sure isn’t involved. The latest efforts to access the files prove this guy has hacking skills. He’s trying to exploit weaknesses in your cyber security and someone’s helping him. I know something is going down this week. I need your help.”

“No. I’m not a spy. Don’t call me again.”

Lloyd tossed the phone on the nightstand and sighed. The Chinese spy wasn’t his problem. It wasn’t even Court’s problem, but Gentry wasn’t the type to keep his nose out of other people’s business.

You murmured and rustled in the blankets, stealing the covers he’d loosened his grip on. Lloyd watched as you coiled yourself into a cocoon of blankets and wondered how you didn’t smother yourself by sleeping like that. His phone buzzed again. The sound made your lashes flutter and Lloyd rubbed your back. He was inordinately pleased when you settled immediately, your breathing evening out again.

Lloyd silenced the phone and checked his text messages.

There were three new messages, all from Jake. One had just arrived. The other two had come in around 5 a.m.

Hey. I need to upgrade the security on your guys laptops - work and personal. The stalker’s been trying to hack them. It’s mainly Princess’ work computer, but I want to cover all the bases just in case.

What time can I come over?

Lloyd? R u awake?

He responded, letting Jake know he could come over after eight, then went downstairs to make coffee.

Between the call from Court and Jake’s texts, the morning had gone sour. His anxiety was flaring back up and he was halfway through his first cup of coffee when it occurred to him that caffeine probably wasn’t the greatest idea right now. He poured the rest of his coffee down the sink and rubbed his jaw, wondering what problem to tackle first. There was the matter of telling you about Nguyen, reviewing your notes from the interview with Aliyah, catching up with Jake about the attacks on your laptops, and… Lloyd frowned.

The conversation with Court was still echoing in his head. Could the cyber attacks on your work computer have something to do with Nguyen? Did that fit the stalker’s profile? Aiden might be behind the latest attack. That would make sense… kind of.

Lloyd leaned against the counter, scowling, and wishing he hadn’t thrown the last of his coffee down the drain. Maybe Nguyen was the serial killer. Bishop still believed he was, and while Lloyd wasn’t keen on his boss’ blind faith in that theory, he suddenly wanted to take another look at Nguyen. His gut said that he’d missed something - something critical.

“Do I smell coffee?”

He turned to see you standing at the foot of the stairs, wearing his robe.

“Yeah, creamer’s in the fridge.”

Lloyd waited while you doctored your coffee and took a few sips. He’d figured out what he needed to say, but instead, he grabbed the files Landon had given him yesterday.

“Princess. We need to talk about your stalker.”

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

You sat at the dining table, reading the files. Each one was labeled with a name: Georgina Rochester, Aiden LeDoux, Shun Nguyen, and finally, Juan Medina.

Picking up Juan’s file, you frowned.

“What’s this?”

Lloyd cleared his throat. “We investigated all potential suspects we could think of.”

“Really? Investigating Juan would’ve involved talking to me. That never happened.”

“Given the circumstances, I can’t expect you to be impartial.”

Your gaze sharpened. “I’ve known Juan for a decade.”

“Princess, you’re too close to him to see him as a threat, and you know it.”

“And maybe you’re too far removed to see that he’s harmless. Everything in here is technically true - Juan got into bar fights and took anger management classes - but there’s more to the story.”

“Then explain it.”

“Juan’s little brother just turned twenty-one. He’s always had a bad temper and alcohol exacerbates it. Juan’s tried to keep him out of trouble but-”

“There’s no arrest record for the brother,” Lloyd interrupted.

“Not yet, but it’s only a matter of time. Juan is the complete opposite of his brother and he’d never do anything to harm his family.”

“He’s been charged with multiple misdemeanors.”

“Two nights in jail hardly makes him a hardened criminal.”

“Princess, you’re one of the most loyal people I know. You’d defend someone you love even if they were guilty.”

“Maybe I would, but the idea that Juan would hurt me is ridiculous. He’s not angry or dangerous.”

“We can’t afford to dismiss any leads,” Lloyd said.

“But this lead isn’t significant. You should’ve discussed this with me.”

“I didn’t want to put you in a position where you had to defend him.”

“The impression you get of Juan from this file is totally wrong and knowing the backstory changes everything. Letting me explain would’ve saved time and resources.”

“No, it wouldn’t have. We’re running down every lead in this case - especially after what happened two weeks ago. I’m not risking your safety on a blind spot.”

“You’re not listening to me. I know Juan and I trust him. I’m absolutely sure he isn’t the stalker.”

“I don’t even trust myself to be objective right now, Princess. Neither of us should try to unravel the stalker’s identity. If Juan made the suspect list, he’s on it until Landon decides he isn’t.”

“Then I need to talk to Landon because investigating Juan is a waste of time.”

“I’m sorry this makes you uncomfortable, but we should turn over every stone.”

“You’re being unreasonable on purpose, aren’t you?”

Lloyd’s expression softened. “I’m sorry I waited to tell you about this, but please, leave the investigating to Landon. He’ll figure it out. If Juan is as squeaky clean as you think, it won’t take long.”

You sighed, rubbing your neck. “You’re right. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to fly off the handle. I’m just…”

Suddenly, you were on the verge of tears. Your voice cracked when you tried to speak and you buried your face in your hands.

“Hey, it’s okay.”

Lloyd stood up and moved around the table. His arms wrapped around you as he let you bury your head in his chest.

“I’m here, Princess. Everything’s going to be okay. We’ll get through this and things will go back to normal. You’re safe.”

“How can I be safe if Nguyen is in the country?”

Lloyd squeezed you. “I won’t let you out of my sight. Also, Jake’s coming over to update the security systems on the house and our computers. We’re taking every precaution and then some, okay?”

You pulled back and looked up at him, lips compressing in a grimace.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you about something… Vivian has an appointment with her obstetrician. She asked me if I could watch the kids this afternoon.”

“That’s not a good idea,” Lloyd said.

“I agree, but she needs my help. If you came with me, you could search for evidence on Juan. Think of how much time that would save Landon. Can we take evasive measures and sneak over, or is it totally out of the question?”

He hesitated. “It might not be safe.”

“The last thing I want to do is put Vivian’s family at risk, but if there’s a way to make it happen…”

“Have you discussed this with Vivian?” Lloyd asked.

“I can talk to her.”

“Explain the situation and if she’s okay with it, I’ll figure something out. Just don’t say anything about Juan, please.”

You kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

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

Lloyd sat at Juan Medina’s desk in the upstairs master bedroom, preoccupied with Juan’s laptop. He kept an ear out for sounds that would warn him of an approaching toddler or the jangle of tags from the family dog, Chewy. The tan and white Cavalier King Charles spaniel had taken an instant dislike to Lloyd at first sniff, which he considered to be very insightful on the canine’s part.

The house was fairly quiet. The only sounds from downstairs were of you cleaning. He could hear the rumble of the washing machine, along with the frequent buzz of the dryer and the dishwasher. Your efficiency was unrivaled. He’d listened to the sound of you tackling a mountain of household chores while keeping the smaller toddler - the boy, Sam - occupied. Meanwhile, the three-year-old, Alyssa, had escaped to the backyard. From the window over the desk, he could see her playing in the yard.

His thorough search of Juan Medina’s laptop had yielded nothing of value. The man’s internet search history was full of hockey, nerdy online card games, and researching which fantasy novels he wanted to buy next. Judging by the bookcase, your brother-in-law’s primary hobby was reading. His offline commitments included a weekly Dungeons & Dragons meetup at the library, helping his mother with yard work, and taking the kids on monthly field trips with a local father’s group. Juan was probably pretty normal by regular standards, but to Lloyd he was the most boring person on earth. He was also envious of the man and that drove him nuts because he couldn’t pin down a reason why he felt that way.

Lloyd brushed off the feeling and closed Juan’s laptop.

Downstairs, the transformation in the family room startled him. The clutter of kid’s toys, piles of books, jackets, blankets, and empty drinking glasses had vanished. He barely recognized the room. In the kitchen, the countertops gleamed. You’d swept and mopped the floor and conquered the overflowing pile of dishes. The family room, the kitchen, the living room, it was all spotless. Even the sliding glass doors that had been covered in Chewy’s nose prints was now clean.

He noticed the basket of folded laundry by the couch and shook his head. How had you managed all this in just a few hours?

Lloyd walked out onto the deck where Sam was playing with a toy tractor. The little boy was so absorbed in his own world that he didn’t spare the man a glance when he walked by. Lloyd headed down the steps to the yard and headed to where you were crouched in the middle of the yard, looking frustrated.

“What are you doing?” Lloyd asked.

“I’m trying to fix this sprinkler head. Juan left Vivian a note to have Dad take a look, so I read a how-to article, which made it seem easy enough. I think I was lied to.”

Lloyd squatted down. “What step are you on?”

“Taking off the sprinkler head. I’m afraid if I use any more force it’ll break.”

“Do you have a screwdriver with a longer handle? You need more torque.”

You gestured to the tool box beside you. “Take your pick.”

He found the right tool and loosened the troublesome screw. Once it was free, you took over.

“It’s okay, I’ve got it.”

After knowing you for three years, he recognized the look on your face and easily handed over the sprinkler head. It was better to just get out of the way when you were on a mission. Besides, he wasn’t about to get grass stains on his freshly dry cleaned Tom Ford chinos if it wasn’t necessary. He scanned the yard, taking in Sam playing on the deck and then turning to the rock pile where Alyssa seemed to be digging a hole to China.

“What’s your niece doing?” Lloyd asked.

“Digging up rocks. Don’t ask me why, because there’s a perfectly good sandbox on top of the hill. She’s always in that rock pile.”

He left you to the sprinkler repairs and headed toward the rock pile. When he saw who was approaching, Chewy, the cocker spaniel, positioned himself between Alyssa and Lloyd. He gave the suspicious dog plenty of space and crouched down on the other side of the rock pile, leaving a large space between them to appease the dog.

“Hey, Alyssa.”

The three-year-old glanced at him, then stabbed her yellow plastic shovel into the dirt. There was a pile of stones next to her right foot. Lloyd watched as she sorted them, examining each before keeping it or tossing it back into the pit. He spotted one he recognized in front of him and picked it up.

“Do you know what this is?” he asked Alyssa.

She stopped digging and examined the rock he held out for a moment before shaking her head.

“See how smooth it is?” Lloyd scraped his thumb over the surface. “When you can scratch a rock with just your fingernail, that means it’s soft. The color and shape are also big clues.”

The little girl looked at him expectantly.

“It’s slate,” Lloyd said.

She held her hand out, and Lloyd dropped it into her palm. He watched as she searched her red bucket and then handed him two more rocks. Lloyd examined them.

“Yeah, these are slate, too.”

Alyssa dug into the bucket again. She paused, as if something had just occurred to her, and extended her hand and wiggled her fingers at him. He passed back the two pieces of slate she’d given him, and the one he’d picked up. She placed them carefully into the red bucket before offering him another rock.

Lloyd studied the specimen, hiding his grin. When he realized what she’d handed him he raised an eyebrow.

“This is agate. Sometimes people make jewelry out of these.”

Alyssa continued to pass him different rocks, though she only allowed him to handle one at a time. She was like a strict librarian who only allowed single book check outs and enforced the return policy with the zeal of a Mutaween. He identified limestone, quartzite, agates, and several pieces of granite for her.

“Which ones are your favorite?” Lloyd asked.

She reached under a dense fern and pulled out an old Folgers coffee container. It surprised him when she took off the lid and handed it over. Lloyd inspected the contents. There was a chip of Mica, easily identifiable by its flakey structure and pearlescent shine. Several of the greenish rocks looked like Sandstone, though one of them had the striations characteristic of Gneiss. Looking at the collection, he realized that Alyssa’s criteria for special rocks focused on color and shininess. At the bottom there was a gray rock with a dusting that looked like blue powder.

He rubbed it with his thumb and inspected it in the light. Chrysocolla or Amazonite?

“This is an impressive collection,” he said.

Alyssa reached under the fern and dug around, searching for something and brushed it off before passing it to him. At first he thought it was just a piece of limestone, but when he flipped it over, there was a clear impression on the other side.

“Wow. This is a cool fossil.”

It looked like a prehistoric crustacean, with lots of ridges and segments in the stone that showed the shape and structure of the animal’s body.

“Is this why you’re digging over here?” Lloyd asked.

The plastic yellow shovel she was using made sense, considering the fossil. He handed it back and watched as she packed the rocks into the Folgers container.

“Why don’t you pick a few rocks to take inside? You could display them on your windowsill or something,” Lloyd said.

Her lips pursed as she considered him, then glanced over her shoulder at you. Lloyd followed her gaze to where you were filling in the hole around the sprinkler head.

“Hey, Princess. Have you seen the fossil Alyssa found?”

At his announcement, Alyssa hissed, shoving the red plastic container underneath the fern. She glared furiously at Lloyd and grabbed the spaniel’s collar. He watched as she stalked across the yard to the deck, dragging Chewy along with her. Lloyd realized he’d committed a betrayal of great magnitude but wasn’t sure how.

When you’d finished with the sprinkler system, he asked.

“Why is Alyssa so protective of her rocks?”

“What rocks?”

“She collects rocks. She’s got a good eye for it too, but I guess she doesn’t like sharing them.”

“Oh, you mean the rocks she smuggles into her bedroom? We try to keep them in the yard because she stashes them in her bookcase and it gets all muddy. Vivian tosses them back in the rock pile when she finds them.”

“That must be frustrating,” Lloyd said.

“Yeah, Vivian can hardly keep up with it.”

“No, I mean that she’s finding interesting stuff. You should have them tumbled. One of her rocks is probably Amazonite or Chrysocolla and she has a really cool fossil, too.”

You stared at him like he’d grown a second head. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. She knows what she’s looking for. I think it’s the colors in the rocks that attracts her attention. Blues and reds seem to be her favorite. Does she have any books on rocks?”

“No, she can’t read yet.”

“They have picture books,” Lloyd said.

“Huh. That’d be a great Christmas gift. Do you think I should re-seed the lawn?”

“What?”

“It might be too early, and I don’t know if Juan is planning on aerating,” you mused.

“You already did the dishes, the laundry, cleaned the house, and fixed the sprinklers.”

“Oh, crap! I forgot about the dryer. Sam! Come inside, it’s getting late!”

Sam launched a valiant protest when you tried to herd him inside. You tended to the toddler’s outburst while Lloyd went to find Alyssa. She was upstairs in her room. Chewy was curled into a ball on her bed and when he saw Lloyd, the fluffy spaniel growled. Lloyd stopped short, respecting the warning, and leaned against the doorjamb.

“If you pick out some rocks from your bookcase, I’ll help you polish them,” Lloyd offered.

Thirty minutes later you walked into the kitchen to find Alyssa standing on a stool next to Lloyd at the sink. A paper towel full of wet rocks sat next to a pile of used sandpaper.

“What are you two up to?” you asked.

“We’re polishing Alyssa’s rocks. Look at this one, it’s a carnelian.”

You examined the bright red stone and smiled at your niece.

“That’s beautiful.”

She looked down, shrugging, but smiled. Lloyd picked up another one.

“This is a blue lace agate.”

After he showed it to you, he handed it back to Alyssa, who snuck it into her pocket instead of laying it on the paper towel.

“Did you find these in the backyard?” you asked her.

She didn’t respond, so Lloyd answered for her.

“I think she might have, but I’m not sure. There’s enough variety here that I think she collected some of them from other places.”

“You should put them on display in your room. Your Mom will be home soon and she’d like to see them - especially now that they’re clean.”

Alyssa beamed. “Mine.”

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

The quiet hum of the Mercedes’ engine filled the car as you drove west towards the cabin. Lloyd glanced over and you sensed his scrutiny.

“You’ve been awfully quiet,” you said, breaking the silence. “Is something on your mind?”

He turned his attention back to the road, flexing his fingers on the steering wheel.

“Tonight, at your sister’s place…”

“You really hit it off with Alyssa. I was impressed.”

“She’s a sweet kid, but I was actually wondering about all the housework. You did everything from the laundry to fixing the sprinklers. If your sister had hired a whole cleaning crew, they wouldn’t have done as much as you did.”

You sighed. “Vivian is juggling a lot right now. I was just lending a hand.”

“It’s not just tonight, though. You’ve always helped her out, even before, when you were in college. I’ve never seen her do the same for you, especially not to this extent.”

“She’s my sister, and she needed help. Besides, you never complain when I do things for you.”

“I pay you to help me,” Lloyd pointed out. “She didn’t even say thank you.”

You chuckled. “That’s just what having a sister is like.”

“Well, from my perspective, it seems like she’s taking advantage of you.”

“Lloyd, I can’t explain this to you.”

“What’s to explain?” he growled.

“I’m the oldest, it’s different. You wouldn’t understand, you’re an only child.”

Silence fell and again, the gentle hum of the engine filled the car.

“Actually, I’m not.”

“What?” you stared at him.

“I have two younger sisters.”

“You never mentioned… Lloyd, I didn’t realize… the articles about you never said...”

“I haven’t seen them in thirty years.”

“Why?”

His grip on the steering wheel tightened. You watched his shoulders rise and fall on a deep breath.

“My mother left when I was eleven. She took my sisters, but left me.”

“She abandoned you…? And left you with your father?”

“Yeah.”

“Lloyd, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

He shrugged. “It was a long time ago.”

“Did you ever reach out to them?”

“No.”

You frowned. “Why not?”

“I wasn’t even sure they were alive until recently. I doubt they’d want to hear from me. They’ve built lives of their own. What would contacting them do except stir up bad memories? If they can forget… that would be better.”

Better for who? You held back the question, unsure if he was ready to answer it.

Lloyd sighed. “I don’t know if they’d want to see me and talking about them isn’t easy. That’s why I’ve never mentioned them before.”

His face was stony but there was a quiet ache in his voice that hinted at the hurt hidden behind the composed mask.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For assuming. For not asking you about your family.”

He shrugged. “Who could blame you? Sharing isn’t exactly in my nature.”

You turned away, gazing out the window. You tried to imagine having your siblings ripped away but couldn’t manage it. What was wrong with Lloyd’s mother? How could she have done such a terrible thing? There were reasons, of course - desperation, fear, psychosis. None of those answers softened the anger you felt toward the faceless woman who’d snatched Lloyd’s siblings. Why would she leave him behind, sentencing him to live with the man she’d chosen to flee?

“You’re wondering why she took them and left me, aren’t you?” Lloyd asked.

“I can’t imagine what kind of a mother would do something like that. It’s awful.”

“She was crazy. That’s a solid reason, but if you ask me, it’s because I looked like him.”

You were confused. “Him?”

“My father.”

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

The cabin’s porch light glowed in a cozy welcome as Lloyd turned into the driveway. You pretended to look out the window to hide the tears in your eyes.

Lloyd’s childhood couldn’t have been easy. You’d known that already, but what he’d revealed tonight was crueler than your imaginings. He parked and shut off the engine, silencing the quiet hum.

The shrill scream of his phone pierced the quiet, making you jump. He frowned at the caller I.D.

“It’s Roth.”

You watched as he answered and lines of concern creased his face. The words on the other end of the line were muffled but the furrow between Lloyd’s brows suggested the news wasn’t good. He listened for a long time before he spoke.

“Alright. We’ll be there as soon as possible.”

“What’s going on?”

“There’s been a disappearance. Another woman was abducted in Harmony.”

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Next - Chapter XXIII

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Masterlist

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Taglist:

@denisemarieangelina @before-we-get-started @buckysteveloki-me @patzammit @badassbaker @meetmeatyourworst @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @thiskindahotkindamusic @jesgisborne @charmingprincess @amiets2 @seitmai @elle14-blog1 @chaoticsteverogers @kaleidoscopepov @fangirl-and-doctor-help @jesevans @openup-yourmind @kandierteveilchen @adoreyouusugar @awkwardgiraffe726 @pono-pura-vida @mysweetlittledesire @liecastillo @marantha @babyevansblog @lizzzaaaaaaaaaaa @thegirlnextdoorssister @ladygrey03 @cynic-spirit @rosedpetal @jeremyrennermakesmesmile @bambamwolf87 @yiiiikesmish @calwitch @peachiestevie @texmexdarling @here4thefanfics @rogersbarber @spikeluv84 @dear-fifi @crayongirl-linz @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @andydrysdalerogers @mrsbarnes32557038

[snowbunnywatching]

Why're Norwegians/Scandinavians so into American tv and culture? Our culture's lame and our tv sucks.

(On an unrelated note, please keep posting pics of Black Men and white girls touching tongues. I don't know why but they get me SO soaked.)

Denmark has a population of about 6 million, less than New York City.

This means that the talent pool is tiny compared to the entirety of the US. And given that most films are only watched by a Danish audience, the budgets are similarly tiny.

Which is why most Danish films are about two people sitting in a room and talking to each other. Very artsy, but hard to eat popcorn to.

Oh yeah, here you go:

[diyahatnight]

Genshin men head cannons

Warnings : Small warning. Complete fluff and a little suggestive!

Pairings: Venti, Zhongli, Ayato, Childe, Cyno, Xiao, Diluc, and Itto as your boyfriend/ husband.

Any audience

Summary: These are just head cannons and and how I think they’d actually act if they were your boyfriend.

Notes: This is a modern au with phones and sending text messages. Please excuse my grammar mistakes <3

Venti would send you random pictures of stray cats while he’s casually strolling around Mondstat.

Before Venti preforms on his Lyre, he would send you videos of him playing that specific song so he can get your feedback.

Venti is constantly drunk so he sends you drunk texts very often. That’s when you know it’s time for you to go and walk him back home.

Zhongli likes to spoil you with the money he does not have. Before you wake up he’d go out and get you coffee and danishes for breakfast. But because he’s old and needs his beauty sleep you still wake up with him by your side with your sleep mask on, but food on your night stand.

Zhongli never has his wallet on him, so the one time he took you on a date and actually payed, the entire restaurant applauded like he just proposed.

Zhongli loves you enough to let you play with his long hair even though it’s not professional. What’s professional about letting your wife touch you anyway? (definitely loves you enough to put a ring on it!)

While Ayato is busy with work he’d send some guards to check on you while you’re out on a walk in Inazuma.

The way Ayato proposed was weird. He sent a guard to do it with an expensive ring and note reading “(imagine me down on one knee) will you marry me my love?” you said yes obviously but you didn’t understand why he couldn’t do it when he came home.

When Ayato is getting ready for work, you would see him in the bathroom with your headband on to keep his hair out his face while he is doing his skin routine.

Childe would send you photos of him pulling his shirt up to show his abs and his pants pulled down enough to see his hips and his re growing happy trail. Messages read “Is it orange down there too?” and he replies with “You should know by now;)”

Childe makes his Fatui co workers set up cute dates for the two of you. He either beats them up or gives them money.

Childe likes to be little spoon.

Cyno texts you to tell you what time he gets off and when he gets home y’all are sleeping together. You text and ask him “baby what do you mean by sleep together?” he replies with “Whatever you want it to mean, i do as you please.”

When Cyno first met your family he made a joke and your father absolutely loved him and his dad jokes.

Cyno didn’t confess to you before you two started dating. Candace had to force him by telling him that she will hide his tcg cards.

Xiao loves it when you touch him. Anywhere. Even though he knows his Karmic debt can harm mortals he knows you’re different so he doesn’t warn you as much.

Xiao doesn’t like when you do commissions on your own so he’ll ask Venti to watch over you for him if he can’t.

Xiao is new to love so he is trying his best. He’s just happy you are patient with him.

Diluc Likes it when you play in his hair and put it in a ponytail for him.

While Diluc is closing up the winery he sits you on one of the counters and makes you wait for him to finish cleaning up.

Once Kaeya switched Diluc’s grape juice with red wine. He kept asking for more without realizing, and he came home drunk. After taking a warm bath with him you two sat on the couch as you babied him.

Itto let’s you know how much he loves you by sending pictures of him beetle wrestling and saying “Fighting for my one and oni” it’s corny but cute.

Itto doesn’t wear shirts often so you tried to get him to wear a dress shirt and it nearly ripped off of him.

Because Itto stays shirtless he’s constantly cold and sick “My extremely large man baby.” is your name for him in your phone because he acts like he’s dying when he’s sick.

I hope you guys enjoyed! i’m probably gonna do genshin girls or genshin 4 star men! :)

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

“1000 Gange” (Fluff)

MM!Michelangelo x reader

A/N: I’ve been feeling for a songfic for some time, and I finally got the inspiration I needed to do it.

Song: “1000 Gange” by Caroline Henderson.

It is a Danish song from a Danish Christmas calendar, but I’ve always loved the song, and it gives me more lovey vibes instead of Christmas, lol. English translations are provided🧡

Warnings: Nothing, just cuteness and a pretty adorable song. Absolute teenage fluff stuff🧡

1000 gange har vi stået, op og ned ad gader gået, kysset på hinanden i vinden / Før du skulle hjem / Mmmh / Før du skulle hjem.

(1000 times have we stood, up and down streets walked, kissed each other in the wind / Before you had to go home / Mmmh / Before you had to go home).

There was almost something magical about having a boyfriend like Michelangelo. Well, other than the fact that he was a mutant turtle, but his personality. He was always so happy, always finding something exciting to do. Rarely you and him had any plans on date nights. You would just meet each other, either outside of your apartment building, or by the man cover closest to his sewer home. And from there the plans and ideas for the evening would be flowing, often leading to you and him running up and down the streets of New York City, before finding a secret place where you would be alone.

In the cold night air you would hold each other close, either somewhere in the park, at the top of some random building or down by the water, and talk about whatever was on your mind, with small kisses peppered in between every single topic. You would stay with each other for as long as possible, before the two would have to make the journey home. Though Mikey’s father had become more accepting of humans, he still didn’t like his sons to stay out for too long, which meant that Mikey did have a pretty strict curfew to follow. And though the two of you dreaded whenever you would have to call the end of the date, it did not stop from talking about the next.

1000 gange har du lagt din hånd ind på mit maveskind og varmet dine hænder i mørket / Når du var kold / Ahh / Når du var kold.

(1000 times have you put your hand in on my stomach skin and warmed your hands in the dark / When you’ve been cold / Ahh / When you’ve been cold).

The last few moments of your date would often consist of you and Mikey sitting or laying close, enjoying the warmth of each other’s company, mumbling sweet nothings as you watched the few stars that was visible in the sky above. During especially cold months, Mikey did like to put a cold hand under your shirt, feeling the warm skin of your stomach. This would make you yelp and pull away with a smile, your laughter loud, sounding beautiful in Mikey’s ears. But every time you would wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer so that you could keep each other warm for the night.

1000 gange har du sagt, du elsker mig, men ikke nu i nat / 1000 gange har du sagt, du elsker mig, men ikke nu i nat / For du skal hjem / Mmmh, du skal hjem.

(1000 times have you said, you love me, but not tonight / 1000 times have you said, you love me, but not tonight / Because you have to go home / Mmmh, you have to go home).

There was one evening where you and Mikey had been too caught up in each other’s company to notice the time. It was during December, where the snow was covering Central Park, and the two of you had decided on a last minute snow fight. In your thick jackets and beanies covering your heads, the two of you had been running around, threatening the loser with kisses and banter.

In the middle of your loud laughter, Mikey felt his phone vibrate in the pocket of his orange winter jacket. After throwing his snowball he pulled his phone out, just to make sure it wasn’t anything important. But when he saw the name of his father at the top of the message, along with the time of night, he was horrified.

“Dad’s freaking out!”, Mikey told you, looking at his phone. “I was supposed to be home half an hour ago!”

“Oh no!”, you exclaimed, knowing very well how Splinter could get when he was worried. “You better hurry home!”

“But I usually walk you home-”, Mikey was about to protest, but you cut him off.

“Not tonight. You have to get home”.

Mikey knew that you were right, and that it was not worth starting up a discussion about it. Instead he put his phone back into his pocket and pulled you in for a quick kiss.

“Text me when you get home”, he said, still not walking away.

“I will”, you smiled. “Now, go! Before your dad sends the whole sewer out after you”.

And with a quick second kiss, your boyfriend was running, his feet quickly carrying him to the nearest manhole.

1000 gange har vi siddet i de bløde sæder, i det bagefterste af biografen / Og holdt i hånden / Hmm / Og holdt i hånden.

(1000 times have we been sitting in soft seats, in the back of the cinema / And held hands / Hmm / And held hands).

Not all of you and Mikey’s dates have been outdoors. As time processed, you and Mikey started to expand your dates from sudden ideas on strolls, to actually make plans. One of those plans being going to the cinema together. That had been a great experience for the both of you, so you had decided to do it more and more often. Watching anything from comedy, action to horror. Anything that gave you and Mikey the excuse to hold hands while taking in your favorite form of entertainment.

1000 gange har vi drukket te, og stenet fjernsyn, i den sofa, som du har derhjemme / Og det var dejligt / Mmmh, det var rart.

(1000 times have we been drinking tea and stoned television, on the couch you have at home / And it was lovely / Mmmh, it was nice).

But constant cinema going can become expensive, which led you to the next best thing - watching movies at home. Normally you would do that at Mikey’s place, where the two of you would take up the whole couch in the middle of the lair, and watch movies from him and his brothers’ large collection.

You would usually do it so late that Mikey’s mutant family would have gotten to bed, leaving you and your boyfriend with the living area to yourselves. However, before going to bed, Splinter would usually take the time to make both of you tea, before leaving the two of you alone for the night. So with your legs tangled together, and two cups of hot tea, you and Mikey would have all the whole night to yourselves.

1000 gange har du sagt, du elsker mig, men ikke nu i nat / 1000 gange har du sagt, du elsker mig, men ikke nu i nat / For du skal hjem.

(1000 times have you said, you love me, but not tonight / 1000 times have you said, you love me, but not tonight / Because you have to go home).

But there had been times where you would have to watch movies at your place. Either because one of Mikey’s brothers or extended family members had to use the television that night, or because the two of you just needed a small break from them. Your parents had nothing against it, letting Mikey into either home with open arms. Though they did not make you tea, it wasn’t uncommon for them to leave you some sort of snacks for the movie.

First time you had Mikey over for movies, neither you nor him had thought about asking your parents for permission to let him spend the night. Not that your parents would have anything against it, but Splinter did not like sudden last minute changes like that, fearing the worst. Still a bad habit from the days he and the turtles used to hide away from the surface.

So when it began getting late, and you fell asleep against Mikey with the movie still running, he didn’t have it in him to wake you up before he left. He waited until the last minute, not wanting to leave you, before finally getting up. He turned off the television and made sure you were tugged in, before sending you a message you could read when you finally woke up. He then pressed a kiss to your forehead, before making his way home.

When you then woke up many hours later, you were confused until you found Mikey text, reading it with a bright smile;

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty!💕🌹 Sorry I just left without saying anything. I just couldn’t bring myself to wake you up. Anyway, I love you, and I hope you’ve been sleeping well😍💕 Call me when you’re up😘”

And with a smile still plastered across your face, you called him while getting up from the couch.

Vi kunne få det så fedt, men det bliver til for lidt / Det er ikke særlig smart, du skal altid hjem, når vi har det rart / Når vi har det rart / Der er meget mere vi kunne dele, vi kunne dele det hele / Har du forstået, så snart du er gået, så mangler jeg noget? / Jeg savner dig.

(We could have it so cool, but it becomes too little / It’s not very smart, that you always have to go home, when we feel good / When we feel good / There’s so much we could share, we could share it all / Have you understood, as soon as you’re gone, I’m missing something? / I miss you).

To say that you and Mikey wished that you could have more time together, was an understatement. When you for some reason couldn’t spend time together, you would text each other all the time with sweet words and hearts. Even during school, you would do whatever you could to eat lunch together, spend time alone during breaks, or send each other sweet glances in the library, even texting each other in class when you hoped that the teacher wasn’t looking.

Though you and Mikey may be young, you couldn’t help but dream of the future together. A future where you could spend all your time together, without worrying about curfew or annoying things alike. A time where you could hold each other close the whole night, without having to miss each other at all.

1000 gange har du sagt, du elsker mig, men ikke nu i nat / 1000 gange har du sagt, du elsker mig, men ikke nu i nat / 1000 gange har du sagt, du elsker mig, men ikke nu i nat / 1000 gange har du sagt, du elsker mig, men ikke nu i nat / For du skal hjem.

(1000 times have you said, you love me, but not tonight / 1000 times have you said, you love me, but not tonight / 1000 times have you said, you love me, but not tonight / 1000 times have you said, you love me, but not tonight / Because you have to go home).

But after a year, your luck would finally turn. Splinter, seeming to understand how you and Mikey wished to spend more time together, finally relented. His sons were teenagers, teenagers accepted by the human world above. And as teenagers they wanted to be with their friends or other loved ones, for longer than a clock would allow them to. And so Splinter finally decided to get rid of the curfew during weekends, letting his sons stay out for pretty much as long as they wanted to, on the condition that they texted him, letting him know wherever they went. Unless it was a school night! Then they had to be home at the set time!

Even this was seen as an absolute win for the boys, and each of them decided to celebrate it in their own ways, going out with their own friends that evening. Mikey decided to celebrate it with you, finally spending a full night at your place. From Friday to Saturday he spends the night, with the two of you sleeping soundly in each other’s arms. And never would there come another night, where you couldn’t tell that you loved each other.