#and also establish that my Lamb is a little bit fucked up actually
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I was possessed at 3 am
ignore the Lamb without horns it's 3 am-
#cult of the lamb#comic#Lamb cotl#Narinder#I know Narinder doesn't grin but I thought it was more fitting for these scenes/sentiments#so he gets to grin#playing with the hc that the Bishops were once mortals raised into their godhood from birth#I might clean this up in the future but for now have a messy 3 am sketch#Narilamb#<- kind of???#not exactly *happy* Narilamb but ey#Look I just wanted to write/draw about the young Bishops when things were Okay#the Bishops are hard to draw help#and also establish that my Lamb is a little bit fucked up actually
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i'd like to know more about madam im adam.... whomst is he
YES absolutely I’ve got you adamposting under the cut. Warning: it is long
So madam-I’m-Adam, through and through and through, is my ‘fine, I’ll do it myself’ character, by which I mean people Do Not tend to work like I do, and thus a lot of characters Do Not tend to work like I do which can get frustrating of course and so! Here we are.
At his core, Adam’s intended to be a character who understands the divide that exists between him and most people and chooses to lean into it; thus, he’s very comfortable with himself, but with other people and his environment at large? Not so much. He’s very isolated, and he knows it, and tries to play it off a lot with humor and of course all the word games he integrates into both his speech and his narration. Those are important because they form the basis of his character in that they a) illustrate connectivity in the way that he understands it b) simultaneously foster a bit of difficulty in terms of understanding things as they actually ARE, and c) thereby serve as something that connects and alienates him in the same breath, if that makes sense. metaphors aside, it’s meant to be a snapshot into the really fucking complicated process of accepting yourself and how you work when other people and the world at large might not. Also, I love language on a structural level, and I wanted a chance to freely fuck around with it.
Adam’s companion character god-dog is meant to be one of those places where his perception and like the rest of the world overlap. Not someone like him exactly, but a basis for identification and acceptance and just yknow the realization that there ARE people and things like you out there.
Also, Adam was conceived after god-dog, who in turn came from one of the nonsense poems I made up on a walk one day never wrote those down. I also remember the iamb lamb who was a walking pun that I can’t remember for the life of me. There’s no theological implications to their names other than that a) I wanted a palindrome to match god-dog and madam-I’m-Adam is well established and fits conveniently well, and b) I think it’s the funniest thing on earth to have my first real oc be named Adam.
Anyways, he still only exists as a concept and a few half decent lines, but I am proud of those lines so I’m gonna finish this off with a few more excerpts because honestly I feel like they get the point of him across much better than I managed to up there akjsjs
“I live down south, in a small house a half mile from all the other small houses, at the center of a series of backroads that wouldn’t even lead to Rome. On days like these I tend to walk a careful path back and forth between the trees, meandering my way from one pointless landmark to the next.
Today, however, I am feeling a little less kind. And as I can’t exactly take that unkindness out on anyone or anything else- I would much sooner die- I decide to do the next best thing and take it out on myself. Playing the martyr is and always has been the one thing that I’ve got going for me- it’s the curse of the chronically useless but ostensibly bearable. This is a long way of saying that I’ve got a pretty face.”
“Old Mrs. Jones is infamous for her hatred of the neighborhood children, her strange dog (this is important) and her sharp hearing. I am infamous for my tendency to do stupid things when I am bored.”
And, one last round:
“…then old Mrs. Jones will come roaring out her trailer with her broomstick and her hair pulled back tight as can be, and she’ll stand straight and tall and jab at the little black sign in the fence and, as a matter of course, she’ll put the fear of dog in you.”
And that concludes adamposting!! thank you for asking about him I was looking for an excuse to ramble cjxjhd. He is. My friend <3
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Heresy no Mara AU
This is deeply silly because without the need to sacrifice a ship's worth of people to build Mara a mortal avatar body, the shipwreck wouldn't actually have happened and so if Nic and Ayla got to know each other it would have been in prison (assuming they weren't executed) BUT
Let's pretend that Mara doesn't exist but the shipwreck still happens! For some reason!
So what happens is someone else has to accompany Nic on scouting expeditions, which probably means there are fewer of those and they are scarier, but on the other hand if they keep their heads down there's no way for the Arizedoans to know where they are. Ayla still takes charge of the farming and food gathering efforts, and Nic still takes care of the building and carpentry. Possibly ze goes out with more people than just one, like maybe ze has to take two or three people, like Danny and Eli or Eli and Fumi. Which would be pretty awkward and uncomfortable, actually; the Nic/Danny/Eli group is like. A trans, a homo, and a homophobic transphobe. Danny trying to explain that it is completely inappropriate to talk about Nic that way. Nic trying to explain that despite being interested in guys there is absolutely no way ze is ever going to fuck Eli. Eli like, Well if Nic's not really a girl then maybe that's what you need, Danny! A girl who thinks she's a guy! And Nic is like. Hey Eli quick question: do you think you would survive if we fucking left you here.
Later Danny is like. Okay please don't take this the wrong way Nic but the worst thing is that Eli's kind of right? And Nic is like WHAT. And Danny is like No no no, gods, not like. About the specifics. He is offensively wrong about both of us there. But I am kind of into you? Which I assume is because you're not a girl?
And Nic is like, Oh, haha, thank you. And they don't do or say anything about it for a while because like. A: they're busy, and B: Ayla.
Because Nic and Ayla are still like. Inseparable. They live together. They sleep together. Nic is more than a little bit in love with Ayla, but ze hasn't said anything because Ayla has been very clear that she's not interested. Except she also is like...clingy? Kind of?
But eventually things are going well enough that they have some kind of party, and Nic is. Well. I've established that Nic is actually a pretty horny person, even though ze started off Heresy a virgin who was Not Thinking About It, but Danny is a few years older than zem and was pretty clear that "kind of into you" meant he found zem attractive. And Nic is sharing a bed with a clingy woman ze's attracted to.
So maybe for the harvest they throw a party, which is later than Nic and Mara got caught and sent to prison in the Actual Timeline, so Nic has had longer to stew in In Love With Roommate, and Nic is like. Hey, Danny? Were you still...interested? And Danny is like Hell yeah.
The sex is minorly weird; Danny is like Okay the closest I have been to one of these before this is helping with a lambing, and presumably my own birth, I don't know how this thing works but also I don't know what you're okay with? And Nic is like lmao neither do I! But I figure in terms of actual sex acts, they end up following almost the same path Nic and Mara took, which is, well, making out is nice; can I grab your ass? Should I play with your boobs? Do you even want that? Eventually Nic is like okay if you're okay with it I would desperately like you to touch my cunt, and Danny is pleasantly surprised by how enthusiastic Nic's response to that is. They end up kind of giving each other handjobs and making out.
Again, they wake up in the morning. They're both like, how are you doing, any big regrets, was that okay, and then they make out some more and Nic is like. Actually would you be interested in putting your dick in me. And Danny is like lol that is not the role I usually take in penetration but sure! Why not! That's what it's made for, right? And they are both astonished by exactly how good PIV is.
I feel like Ayla would not actively interrupt them but more because she doesn't want to deal with that than that she isn't. Worked up enough to do so.
Because Ayla is experiencing every emotion at once when Nic leaves the bonfire with Danny. Everyone notices but does not feel comfortable saying something about how obviously upset and snappish she is, except for Eli, who doesn't have the tact, and Nan, who is kind of Ayla's best friend besides Nic.
(Eli is like, I thought you weren't Nic's girlfriend, why are you acting all jealous, and Ayla is like I'M NOT I'M JUST. UPSET. FOR. REASONS. Nan is like I hate to side with Eli but it sounds like those reasons are you don't want Nic being with someone else?)
So Ayla has had. A hell of a night. She's like, I definitely do not want to have sex with Nic. I ABSOLUTELY do not want to have sex with Danny, and he isn't interested in girls anyway so that's fine. But I am upset. I am upset and it does sound like jealousy but how can it be jealousy when I don't want to have sex with Nic? Nic has not made a secret of the fact that ze does like sex, or at least the idea of it. At this point ze's probably told Ayla ze's a virgin but not opposed to sex the way Ayla is, ze's just been, you know, busy. But Ayla knew it was likely Nic would want to have sex some day. Ayla is really upset Nic is having sex with Danny. But why is she upset when she wouldn't have sex with Nic herself?
She has not actually come to any conclusions about how to deal with these feelings. She's just like. Lurking outside Danny's house so when they come out she's right there.
Danny is like oh no, are we going to have a problem? Because he definitely thought there was not going to be a problem but "lurking outside his house" is kind of indicative of a problem, you know?
Nic feels like ze got caught cheating on Ayla, even though ze is not dating Ayla.
And Ayla just blurts out "Please don't date Danny I can't stand the idea of you dating anyone else."
Thankfully before they can get into a fight about not understanding their own feelings, Danny is like, Ayla, does it help to know that at no point did we talk about dating or feelings and just had sex?
Ayla is like. Yes, actually.
Nic is like. Kind of hurtful, but fair, I guess. Danny asks zem, Sorry, did you want to date? And Nic is like honestly I don't think so? You're a good friend and the sex was nice, but. I mean I wasn't thinking about moving in with you or anything. Danny says Great! Ayla, do you want to date Nic?
And Ayla is like. I. Don't know how to answer that question. I don't want to have sex with zem.
Nic is like Yes you have made that very clear, which is why I didn't think dating was on the table?
Danny is like, Okay but when I brought up dating you immediately mentioned moving in with me, so. It feels like maybe the woman you already live with and share a bed with wouldn't be impossible to date? Even if you don't have sex?
Ayla is like Is that a thing people actually do?
Nic is like Who gives a shit, is that something you would want to do?
Ayla is like Ummm can I think about it? Can you not date someone else while I think about it? Nic is like, I think I can manage that but can I have platonic sex with Danny while you think about it? Danny is like Good question!
So for a while they're in sort of a three way relationship with Nic as the crux, where Nic and Ayla are dating, and Ayla does mention she'd be okay with kissing, and cuddling, and maybe sometimes making out, as long as Nic knows it's not going to lead to sex, and Nic is like Danny my girlfriend is too hot can you fuck me about it, and Danny is enjoying sex with Nic, but he's maybe not as okay with not being able to date zem as he initially thought, and eventually he's like hey...I would kind of like to be able to date though. So maybe we should stop having sex so much?
And Nic doesn't want to get in the way of Danny's life, and Ayla is like. Yeah honestly I couldn't help noticing that he seemed pretty fond of you and I felt weird about that, but I already made it so weird for you so I didn't want to say anything, and Nic is like. Babe. I like having sex but you are way more important to me? And of course Ayla is like Really? Are you sure? You didn't even say anything until I did.... And Nic is like Oh my gods, I was trying to respect your boundaries, Ayla you're so smart and hot and my best friend??? If I realized you'd be okay with the parts of dating that don't include sex I would have suggested it way way sooner? Ayla is like Really??? And Nic has to be the one to embarrassingly smother her in kisses and compliments.
Eventually Ayla is like, Maybe it would bother me less if you were having sex with people who didn't live here? Or also had significant others? Or like, Chiamaka? Because Chiamaka has like. Six girls on various ships. (Chiamaka is like Nic you're great but you're not a woman. Nic is like. Very affirming refusal, thanks. Chiamaka is like I don't know what to tell you! I like girls! You're not Girl! I wouldn't mind sharing a girl with you, that could be hot, but I'm not into you!)
Nic is like. Why are you workshopping ways for me to have sex with other people.
Ayla says Because I would rather you have sex with other people than with me? The problem with Danny is that he started having feelings for you. You having sex is not the problem. You probably need to have sex.
Nic is like, it would be easier to go without if you weren't being hot all the time.
Ayla is like You are a freak, and that is why I need to find someone else to fuck you for me.
And the way she says that makes Nic freeze and turn red and Ayla is like ? Wait, would you find that fun? And Nic has to admit that ze would find that extremely hot, actually. And Ayla is like Hmm.
So the next time the trade fleet is in port, because they know and have a relationship with lots of those people, Ayla picks out a guy who has previously flirted a little with Nic and is like. Hey. Would you like to have sex with my partner? And he's like, No, I get it, ze's taken, don't worry--
Ayla interrupts and is like, No, I'm not asking if you find zem attractive, I'm asking if you would like to have sex with zem. Like, now. Or tonight. Maybe as long as you're in port.
The guy is like I thought you were dating???
Ayla is like I don't want to have sex, Nic does, and you're not going to be here long enough for me to get jealous. Ze thought it would be really hot if I picked people out for zem. Are you interested?
The guy is like. This feels like a trick.
Ayla is like, Well, I have no idea if ze's actually going to be attracted to you, or just turned on by the fact that I'm lending zem out like this, which I understand could be a downside.
He's like. Yeah that's personally hotter than it is upsetting.
Ayla's like, Excellent! Come with me. And she takes him to Nic and is like, Hi babe, here's your fuck buddy for the week.
(Nic is embarrassed enough by this exchange that the fleet guy is like, Uhhh are you actually okay with this? Your girlfriend said it was okay but I don't want to do anything you don't want to do, and Nic has to admit that this is the most turned on ze's ever been and that's just kind of embarrassing. He's like really? And Nic is like My asexual girlfriend is fucking me by proxy, how is that not the hottest thing you've ever heard of? Fleet guy is like, That's a good point, very few people have ever loaned me their girlfriends or boyfriends specifically to fuck.)
The next day Ayla asks Nic how it's going, fucking an acquaintance Ayla picked for zem, and Nic is like, It's amazing, i wish you wanted to fuck me yourself because you're clearly some sort of genius at it, but I can definitely live with this as a compromise. Ayla is like Good! And by the time the fleet leaves port, Nic has gotten less interested in sex with the random guy and is back to spending most of zeir time in the workshop, and fleet guy finds Ayla and is like I see how this can work for the two of you, and for the record I am totally willing to be a sex toy ze gets bored of after a few days the next time we're in port. Ayla is like cool, thank you. You don't mind that ze got bored of you? Fleet guy shrugs and is like, I mean. Ze's already got you. I'm not surprised ze wasn't super interested in me outside of sex.
Ayla sets this up for Nic a few more times, and one time someone hits on Nic and is surprised when ze's like "Oh, I'd love to, let me ask my girlfriend first though," and they get through a couple years like this, Nic having casual sex mostly at Ayla's direction.
Eventually they talk about how they both want kids, and Nic is like IDK how I feel about letting some rando knock me up though? And Ayla is like. Babe. Do you even want to get pregnant? A bunch of things that happen during pregnancy are like. Things you do not enjoy already. Nic is like well YOU'RE hardly about to get pregnant. And Ayla is like lmao no, I am not. But there are plenty of kids who need parents? Nic is like sure, and how do we get them without coming to the attention of the Church (because the Church still exists since Mara didn't dismantle it since Mara didn't exist) and Ayla is like Hmmmm. Good point.
Eventually Ayla is like. Hey Danny. How do you feel about impregnating Nic.
Danny is like That's the weirdest way to open a conversation, thanks Ayla.
Eventually they manage to have a real conversation about it, and Ayla is like. I think I can be less jealous now. But also I can't think of anyone else I would rather contribute to our children than you. Danny is like, Aww. Yes, I will gladly come inside your partner until ze's pregnant. Ayla is like never say it like that again though. Danny is like, yes ma'am, gonna fill your Nic with my seed. Ayla is like I WILL KICK YOU OUT OF THIS VILLAGE SO HELP ME
It takes them a while longer to get pregnant this way, because Nic isn't fucking Danny multiple times a day the way ze did with Mara. Nan has Eka, and then a man moves to the village to be with her, bringing his "sister", whom Danny is immediately taken with. The timing of this potentially causes problems because Danny is like aaaaa I want to ask out Amora but I already agreed to get my friend pregnant!
(Eventually he just tells Amora this and she's like. I don't see a conflict here? We can date while you have sex with your friend in order to get zem pregnant. Zeir girlfriend's not going to knock zem up, after all. Danny is like you don't mind? Amora is like Ze literally has a girlfriend.)
There's no conclusion to this. Probably after they have a kid Ayla is like. I feel like we should be married now. Nic is like ugh if you want. Ayla is like ew no, I don't mean we need to have a wedding, I just feel like if we're raising a kid together I should be your wife? And Nic is like ohhhh yeah okay! Please!
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I was feeling bad about missing the first post, but apparently the next update is in MARCH so I'm not too late if you think about it?
One of the things that put me off reading Twig the first few attempts was that instead of joining on the premise of 'superheroes' or 'magic' I was instead slapped in the face with the premise of 'biology' which while I think Wildbow does an excellent job of mucking about with to create cool, horrifying, and other sorts of rad shit with, isn't exactly my personal cup of tea? I'm a fake wildbow fan, I'm here mostly for the Rad Shit and rely on other wormbloggers to present Themes and Ideas and such.
Sy this is a lizard. A snake with legs is just a lizard. Did you perhaps miss the second lesson, after 'life needs these elements' in which they go 'this is a lizard'?
The beginnings of Sy being a little shit. I don't remember him laughing a lot later on though? I've heard people (including wildbow) describe twig as a coming of age story, so maybe this is part of it.
Like I said earlier, do not expect particularly deep cuts in this liveblog lol.
Hello Fred-From-Scooby-Doo. I sure hope you don't rot away first when these child experiments are revealed to have expiration dates. This is also the second mention of the wax masks that I thought were going to be like, an Everytime thing instead of just something prepared for this particular outing. I dropped my first reading this very chapter because I didn't want to read about wax cracking just as often as taylor reached out for her swarm, given wyvern makes Sy watch peoples faces for tells or whatever.
Hello the girls! I'm sure the gender ratio of the team here will have no surprises later on. Lillian gets a smaller introduction here compared to the other lambs(? I'm not sure if they're called that at this point.) I faintly recall her being the unenhanced medic/intern on the team, and I wonder if Sy thinking about her less here is intentional.
Hello Helen, who's apparently the best lamb (And I found myself agreeing with this with what little I read.) I forgot you were a fucked up blonde little girl like bonesaw, with the 'bending body in odd angles' I had swapped your mental image to the girl from the ring after a bit.
I had to google Wallaces law, because I am dumb. I don't know if this is 'alt earth Wallace got more credit for shit than Darwin did' sort of thing or if Wallace's Law is also a real thing.
Is this the problematic yuri I've heard about or am I reading too much into things because the next chapter comes out in march?
Giving Sy the benefit of the doubt for now that he's doing this because he thinks it's funny to make her mad and genuinely doesn't think it's an issue, and is also twelve(?). May change my tune later given I've heard it doesn't really get better?
Mostly clipping this bit trying to burn the aesthetic into my mind given I forget it over time, replacing every location with a new Generic Brown Brick Building. Haphazard buildings with petrified trees holding them up. Not just Detroit but More British.
We live in a so-Sy-ety.
Oh yeah it was intentional. I remembered one thing about twig, woo.
Very good character establishing being done here.
Hi Jamie. Trying not to read too much into initial description seeing as I know some spoilers about them, but not liking how they look with short hair instead of being happy with long hair is relatable. Men's haircuts suck.
I wonder if we ever get details about the gangs previous monster of the week shenanigans. Also if one counts the kittens, this is two mentions of baby murder in the first chapter.
Sy doing his thing is fun. The fact he's like 12(?) and looking down on the ten year old is also fun.
Wildbow fixing his problems with numbers by introducing ten dollars as a lot of money to share between a few ten year olds. Any attempts to calculate how much anything is actually worth in the twigverse is going to be wrapped up in this murkyness.
So you were curious then.
And given Helen's manner of sitting it actually is a recurring problem. god damn it Sy.
Wollstone, after a google, is just a reference to Mary Shelleys mother, and not another real scientist I should feel dumb for not recognizing.
I could not picture Jamie's hiding spot or the way the door was propped up. Taylor and your omniscient swarm to make sense of wildbow tabletop RPG paced fights, I miss you. I'll even take Victorias 'thinker 1' power. Someone stitch echolocation bat ears on Sy or some shit I'm begging you.
Confirmation that Sy was being a twelve year old about the ten year old he was playing.
I guess I can let the lizard thing go if Sy is only calling that because they're giving all their cases dorky saturday morning cartoon names
I remember Sy calling himself dogshit at fighting and I really hope theres more of these moments where shit he tries just fucking fails like this.
The gang of 12 year olds watching a man be devoured by his own creation, and Sy is more interested in putting Lillian in the out group for covering her eyes. I think this is why I dropped twig the second time, I judged it by it's first chapter and thought with the 'monster of the week' type of plot, with the focus on hunting and food, pretty much every death was going to be indulging in vore instead of other fun ideas for death in a 'biopunk' setting.
Snake charmer is a decent starter antagonist, I'll probably have more thoughts about him once we have others to compare him to. Being against the academy but wanting to join it, spouting a few lines about
I don't know Sy well enough yet to know if he was lying to me, the reader about the fake fall he made sound natural in the narration, or if he's just actually bad at fighting. There's a post going around about 'real people falling for the acts that characters put on' and Sy might be doing that to me.
Hooray government created child murderers! You did it! See you again in March, apparently.
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Double or Nothing | Lee Minho & Han Jisung x Reader
pairing: jisung x reader x minho
genre: smut
warnings: non-idol au, dom! minho, sub! jisung, sub! afab reader, established polyamorous relationship, fingering, oral sex (f and m receiving), cum eating, humiliation, hair pulling, degradation, praise, pet names, sir kink, choking, swearing, edging, overstimulation
requested: nope
word count: 5.2k
proofread: yes :)
taglist: @bxngchxn @jisungsplatforms @hyunsluvv @qtieskz @etherealeeknow @arohabangtan @channelhan @minholuvs
(can't tag): @doyoungsjohnny
____________________
as soon as you read the message that your package was out for delivery, you were excited, practically waiting at the front door for it to arrive. you’d bought it four months ago, and when it was taking so long to show up, you’d started to think you’d wasted your money on something you weren’t going to get. but here it is, finallyarriving. you watch the postman place it on your doorstep, waiting for him to drive away so you can swing the door open and grab it.
as soon as you have the package in your hands, you rush down the hallway, almost running to the bedroom in excitement. you place the package on the side of the bed, shaking jisung’s sleeping form in an attempt to wake him from his sleep. it doesn’t work, you’re slumbering boyfriend continuing to snore away, barely even stirring.
“wake up!” you shout, grabbing one of the pillows and smacking him with it. he begins to move slightly, and you can tell it’s working. you hit him again with the pillow, over and over until he eventually sits up.
under normal circumstances, you’d take a moment to laugh at jisung’s bedhead, but right now, there’s too much excitement running through your veins to even notice the way his hair sticks up at odd angles. instead, you pick up the package again, holding it up and smiling widely at jisung, waiting for him to notice it. but alas, he doesn’t notice, moving to lay back down and go back to sleep.
“hey, don’t you wanna know what i’ve got?” you ask, waving the package slightly.
“what have you got? just tell me,” he mumbles, eyes already closed once again.
“the outfits arrived,” you answer, and that finally wakes him up properly.
he sits up again, rubbing the sleep from his eyes before looking at the box in your hands. he grabs it from you, impatiently prying it open and carefully pulling out the contents.
“i forgot we actually ordered these,” he says, holding one of the matching maid outfits up to look at it.
“are we sure minho’s gonna like them?” you ask, a small bit of doubt creeping into the forefront of your mind.
“well, if he doesn’t, then that’s his problem. either way, we’re gonna look so fucking good,” jisung says, smiling wide as he continues to look at the item in his hands. “where is he, anyway?”
“he went out for lunch with his parents, remember?”
“oh yeah, that’s right.” he pauses, turning his head to you, and you can tell from the look on his face exactly what he’s thinking, especially because you’re thinking the same thing. “how long before he’ll get home?”
“not sure, i can text him and ask,” you say, already pulling out your phone and opening the messages between you and minho. you start typing, asking him how long before he might get home. it’s only moments before your phone buzzes with his reply.
minho <3: maybe an hour. why?
y/n: we just miss you, that’s all
he doesn’t respond, and you know that he’s aware of the real reason you’re asking. he can tell that both you and jisung are needy and waiting for him to come home.
“we have about an hour,” you say, turning to jisung, and he drags himself out of bed at your words. “where are you going?”
“to shower,” he replies, walking towards the bathroom. “because i’m not gonna be stinky when our boyfriend gets home.”
“ah, that’s a good idea,” you reply, deciding to scroll aimlessly through various apps on your phone.
“are you saying i stink?”
“always.”
he scoffs, but you can tell from the upturn at the corners of his mouth that he’s just pretending to be insulted. “well, you’re always stinky as well.”
“am not.”
“are too.”
it’s childish, the way you and jisung always banter with each other. but you wouldn’t change it for the world.
“just go shower,” you say, shaking your head.
“wanna join me?” he asks, a cheeky grin on his face.
“nah, your hands like to wander, so i’ll just shower after you,” you reply. “just don’t use up all the hot water.”
it takes almost 40 minutes for jisung to emerge from the bathroom, a towel loosely hanging around his lower half. but you don’t even take a moment to complain about how long he took, only opting to glare at him as you zoom past him and into the bathroom.
you shower faster than you ever have before, stepping back out of the bathroom, clad in a towel, in record speed. 10 minutes to be exact, which is quite quick for you, who usually showers for upwards of half an hour. as soon as you step into the bedroom, you’re greeted with the sight of jisung, already dressed in his outfit. he spins around upon hearing your soft footsteps, and the view of him is even better from the front.
you love it, the way his strong arms stick out from the short sleeves, the way the skirt rests around his thighs. the fabric hugs his torso perfectly, accentuating his tiny waist.
“how do i look?” he asks, and you respond with an approving nod and a thumbs up.
jisung smiles at your reaction while you grab the other maid costume. you quickly dry off the rest of your body, excited to put on the new clothing. if you look anywhere near as good in it as jisung does, then you’ll be super happy. you pull the garment on, turning to face the mirror once it’s in place, jisung walking to stand next to you, also looking at the reflection. he was right, about what he said earlier, you both look so good.
“what now?” jisung asks.
“now, we wait for our hot ass boyfriend to get home,” you answer, moving to sit on the bed. he follows you with a soft whine. jisung’s the impatient one, always getting himself worked up then complaining when no one helps him straight away.
you begin scrolling through your phone once again, jisung doing the same. and you can tell he’s getting himself worked up, judging from the way he keeps inching himself closer and closer. you, however, ignore him, determined to wait patiently for minho to come home. you fall into a steady rhythm, scrolling aimlessly, and the time ticks by quietly. or, at least, it was quiet until jisung lets out a frustrated groan.
“where is he? he told you an hour, and it’s already been an hour and a half,” he huffs, and you’re not surprised at his response. nor are you surprised when you face him and find his cock hard, pressing against the front of his skirt.
“he’ll be here soon, just be patient.”
“but i’m tired of waiting,” he pouts, placing a hand on your thigh. “what if we had some fun before he gets here?”
“you’re too horny for your own good, sungie,” you reply with a slight eye roll, feeling the way his hand rises up. a content sigh leaves your lips when his hand finally reaches your pussy, a lone finger running through your slick folds, already dripping with arousal.
“see, you’re just as turned on as i am,” he huffs, continuing to move his finger slowly, teasingly. and he’s right. while you’ve been waiting for minho to show up, your mind has been wandering, thinking up all the different possibilities for what he’s going to do when he sees you both, and you’ve been getting more and more worked up with every passing minute.
“but i, at least, know how to behave myself and wait patiently,” you retort, trying to hold back the whines bubbling in your throat.
“well, i don’t see you stopping me right now,” he says, his finger beginning to rub small circles into your clit.
“oh, shut up,” you say, voice somewhat breathless as you bring your hand up to jisung’s aching cock.
it’s almost instantaneous, the moan that he lets out when you wrap your hand around his length, slowly rubbing your thumb along his slit. you slowly pump him, and his hand stills against your clit, his brain momentarily short-circuiting at the stimulation you’re providing him. it only takes a few seconds for jisung to regain control of himself, moving his hand so that his fingers prod at your entrance. he slides the digit in, quickly adding a second while you continue to jerk him off leisurely.
he curls his fingers inside of you, causing you to let out a particularly desperate sounding moan. you pump jisung’s cock faster, losing yourself in the feelings of the moment, loving the way his fingers drag along your walls. you can feel the beginnings of your orgasm starting to grow, the knot forming deep in your stomach. but you can tell from the chorus of shameless whines and moans tumbling from jisung’s parted lips that his orgasm looms much closer. his cock twitches in your hand, so close to a release, but a voice speaks up from the doorway, halting your movements.
“well, well, well, what do we have here?”
you pull away from jisung, his fingers leaving you while you ignore the irritated whine he lets out from his orgasm steadily fading away. you stare at the doorway, eyes wide as you look at minho standing there, his arms folded across his chest and his expression none too impressed.
minho walks towards you, each step somewhat menacing, and it’s obvious that he’s not very pleased with what he found you and jisung doing. he brings his hand up, gripping your chin tightly between his finger and thumb, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him.
“tell me, lamb, which one of you was the impatient one?”
he doesn’t have to ask; he already knows the answer. it’s jisung, it’s always jisung. but you tell him anyway, finding some joy in telling on jisung. minho shakes his head in disappointment, frowning at the younger boy.
“was my pretty boy too horny to wait just a little bit longer,” he says, and you watch as jisung’s ears grow redder and redder. he cowers slightly under minho’s stare, the older man being entirely unimpressed with jisung breaking the rules. “what do you have to say for yourself?”
“i’m sorry,” jisung says, his voice quiet, meek, and he keeps his eyes trained on the bed underneath him, unable to look minho in the eye. minho just tsks in response, saying nothing more about the disobedience, knowing the best way to punish jisung is with actions, not words.
“do you like our outfits?” you ask, kind of annoyed that you’re not getting enough attention.
minho’s eyes scan over you and jisung, and you can tell that he loves the way you both look.
“of course i do, you both look so cute in your little matching outfits,” he smiles, gently cupping your face and rubbing his thumb along your cheek.
he leans in, pressing his lips to yours, and you smile into the kiss, enjoying the gentle moment. but it’s interrupted by jisung’s soft whines. he pouts his lips, silently asking for a kiss as well. minho rolls his eyes slightly, but you can see the soft smile on his face before he leans over to jisung and kissing him. minho steps back, grabbing the chair from the corner of the room and placing it at the end of the bed, ignoring the confused looks from you and jisung.
“now, my pretty pets wanted to play with each other, so you’re gonna keep playing. but you’re gonna do it the way i tell you to,” he says, sitting down. “so, y/n, as adorable as you look all dressed up for me, i want you to strip.”
“yes, sir,” you say, eager to please. you slowly stand up, reaching behind you to undo your outfit before slowly sliding it down your body, being sure to sway your hips enticingly as you do so.
“that’s my good little lamb,” he says, making you smile at the praise. “now, sungie, sit with your back against the headboard, and y/n, i want you to suck him off.”
you wait for jisung to settle into his spot before you move into your position between his legs, lifting up the skirt of his outfit to reveal his still throbbing cock. just as he did before, he moans the second you take him into your hand, slowly pumping him a few times before bringing him to your lips. you press a chaste kiss to the tip, relishing in the soft hiss he lets out at the minuscule contact. you can’t see minho, but you can tell that he’s smirking at you both from his seat, enjoying watching the way you tease the desperate boy in front of you.
“p-please don’t tease me, y/n,” he whimpers out, bringing his hands to tangle in your hair.
“shut up, sungie. you’re lucky i’m not trying you up in the corner to just watch,” minho spits, and jisung’s mouth instantly closes at the words.
you place another kiss along his slit before finally, licking a stripe up the underside of his cock. your tongue moves slowly against him, painstakingly slowly, and he lets out the most pathetic whine you’ve ever heard. it’s a beautiful sound, and you want to hear it again. you pause, waiting a few seconds before licking another stripe, moving just as leisurely as the first time, and you’re rewarded with another desperate whine, jisung wanting to ask for more, but knowing minho will stop you if he does. you lick once more before finally taking him into your mouth.
the only sound better than his whines is his moan upon finally getting to feel the warmth of your mouth. it’s low, guttural, bordering on being a groan. and it sounds like heaven. it sounds like a sinful delight that you’re all too happy to indulge in. you hollow your cheeks, sucking harshly on the tip of his cock before bobbing your head once, taking as much of him as you can before pulling away. you release him with a soft pop, swirling your tongue around him twice before moving back down his length, setting a calm pace with the bobs of your head.
you can feel him twitch in your mouth, his earlier lost orgasm already beginning to return. you hold your head down, feeling him deep in your throat. you moan around his cock, loving the way the vibrations make him rut his hips upwards, causing you to gag slightly. jisung’s legs start to tremble, his moans rising in pitch, and you can tell he’s getting close to his release.
“oh f-fuck, i’m gonna-” he stutters, eyes screwed shut and his hands tugging softly on your hair, a weak attempt to keep himself grounded.
“cum on their tits,” minho’s voice speaks up, and you’d almost forgotten he was even there, watching, observing the way you swallow around jisung’s cock.
“b-but-” jisung whines, wanting to cum down your throat.
“but what? you should be grateful i’m even letting you cum at all,” minho responds.
but, just like jisung, you also want him to cum down your throat. you want to taste him, want his release to coat your tongue. so, you don’t stop, continuing to bob your head up and down with new vigour, trying to make him cum before you can be stopped. but minho gets there first, moving from his chair to you in the blink of an eye, moving jisung’s hands from your hair and harshly grabbing a fistful of it himself, yanking your head back so that jisung’s cock falls free from the confines of your lips.
jisung is quick, taking his cock into his hand and pumping quickly, not wanting to lose his orgasm for the second time. minho presses one of his hands against your back so that you arch it, your chest protruding outwards. jisung pumps himself once, twice, before you feel the warmth of his release hit your tits. you hang your mouth open, tongue out in an attempt to taste at least a drop. but you’re out of luck, his cum only splattering across the expanse of your chest.
you watch jisung’s hand slow down, jerking himself off until he comes back down from his high. he lays limp against the bed, breathing heavily as he tries to catch his breath. minho lets go of you, moving towards jisung. he gentle strokes the younger boy’s hair, telling him how well he did. but the softness only lasts for a moment, minho yanking against jisung’s hair, pulling his head back so that they’re looking each other in the eye.
“lick it off,” minho orders, voice stern. jisung goes bright red, blood rushing to the surface as his face heats up in embarrassment, and you can practically feel the warmth radiating from him from where you’re sitting.
the look on his face is a marvel to behold, a perfect combination of humiliation and desire. so utterly embarrassed at the mere notion of it, but also so devastatingly turned on at the idea of licking his own cum from your breasts. he nods his head, moving so that you can take his place. you lie down, your head resting upon the pillows, jisung hovering over you.
minho stands up, returning to his chair at the end of the bed, watching as jisung’s head lowers to your breasts. jisung looks up at you through his eyelashes before pressing his tongue flat against the soft flesh of your chest.
there’s something so filthy, so dirty about watching him lick his own cum from your skin. something so entirely erotic about the trails of saliva he leaves behind. you moan softly when his lips wrap around one of your nipples, sucking softly on the sensitive bud. he’s quick to let go, though, moving his lips and tongue across, wrapping his lips around your other nipple as well. and it’s not long before his cum is cleaned from your tits, jisung turning to face minho, waiting to be told what happens next.
“good boy, sungie,” minho says, and jisung perks up at the praise, loving to hear that he’s doing a good job. “what do you say to y/n for making you cum?”
jisung turns back to face you, and it’s adorable, the way he looks so shy. but he says his thanks to you anyway, his cheeks a soft shade of pink.
“it’s your turn to give, pretty boy. y/n made you cum so now you can do the same to them.”
“yes, sir,” jisung says, moving so that his face is in front of your pussy. you’ve ignored the throbbing between your legs for long enough. and it’s only now, with jisung’s breath delicately hitting your dripping folds, that you realise just how desperate you are for some kind of stimulation. for any small amount of contact that can bring you the release you need.
his tongue darts out of his mouth, quickly swiping up from your entrance to your clit. you let out a broken moan, your hands flying to tangle in his hair and your eyes closing tightly. jisung’s always been good at this, making you feel good with his mouth. and as his tongue dips into your hole, you can’t help but feel as if you’re floating amongst the clouds.
he only adds to your pleasure, however, when he brings his fingers to prod at your entrance while he sucks at your clit. he curls his digits, working your g-spot for the second time today and it makes your back arch. you tug at his hair, pressing his face harder against you, greedy for more. and jisung is happy to provide. he thrusts his fingers into you faster, humming against your clit. and the vibrations feel like electricity, setting off every nerve ending in your body.
you slowly open your eyes, and you’re greeted with one of the best sights. minho sits on his chair, clothes in a pile on the floor next to him, his hand wrapped around his hard cock, jerking himself off to the sight of you being eaten out by jisung. jisung’s fingers pumping in and out of your walls feel divine, but the addition of knowing that minho’s watching, and that he’s getting off to it as well, is enough to make the knot in your stomach grow faster.
you look down at jisung, and you love the way he looks. his maid outfit still covering him, his eyes closed as he relishes in the taste of you. his hands wrap around your thighs, grip firmly holding you in place, and you can see the way his hips rut against the edge of the bed.
the knot grows, steadily coiling tighter and tighter until you’re waiting, with bated breath, for it to unravel. with a particularly delightful curl of jisung’s fingers, you’re cumming, your legs shaking on either side of his head. he works you through it until you’re only left trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm.
minho stands up, signalling for jisung to do the same, and the younger boy does, standing beside the bed awaiting instructions.
“strip,” he says to jisung, and he does, quickly ridding himself of the maid outfit, tossing it unceremoniously into the corner of the room.
jisung stands still, cock hard once again, and you can see on his face how much he’s struggling to stop himself from wrapping his hand around himself. minho ignores him for a moment, helping you manoeuvre yourself so that you’re laying sideways across the bed, your head hanging off the edge. he climbs on the bed, positioning himself between your legs before finally acknowledging jisung once more.
“you’re gonna fuck their throat again, sungie,” he says and is quick to continue when jisung pouts. “and don’t complain. if you were good earlier, then you might’ve gotten to fuck their pussy, but you weren’t. so, you’re gonna take what you get and be grateful for it.”
jisung huffs slightly but says nothing further as he lines himself up with your opened mouth. he takes himself in his hand, rubbing the head of his cock along your lips, his breathing uneven from the knowledge of the pleasure that is in store for him. minho does the same, sliding his tip up and down your entrance, gathering your wetness. and only when you whine softly, a quiet beg for more, do they finally both push into you.
it’s kind of funny, the way they both simultaneously pause when they’re bottomed out, catching their breaths, needing a moment to recover from how good you feel wrapped around them. it feels like a lifetime before they begin to move, and it’s immediate euphoria, the way minho’s cock drags along your walls, every single one of his thrusts deep and purposeful. his hips move slowly into yours, wanting to truly feel the way you clench around him. and jisung’s thrusts are the same, calculated, determined, savouring the way your throat constricts his cock in just the right way.
you keep your eyes closed, just letting yourself feel the way they’re making you feel, the almost overwhelming pleasure you’re being provided. you can feel the drool dripping from the corners of your opened mouth. you can hear the grunts and groans from both of your boyfriends, you can smell the unmistakable scent of sex in the air. and you can taste jisung’s precum on the back of your tongue.
you’re careful of your breathing, being sure to take breaths at every opportunity. you lift your hands, gripping tightly onto jisung’s thighs while minho’s hands do the same to your hips. his fingers dig into the flesh, and you know that the skin there will be littered with a bunch of tiny bruises. but you don’t care, bruises are a small price to pay for total pleasure, especially when they don’t hurt at all.
jisung’s hands cradle your head, and he watches the faint outline of his cock in your throat. the sight alone draws a moan from his lips and sends a shudder through his body. your attention is brought back to minho when he begins to slowly rub at your clit with his thumb, and your body jolts slightly from the pleasure. you clench tighter around him in response, making his hips stutter for a moment before he regains his steady rhythm.
“fuck! c-can i cum? please? i n-need to,” jisung pleads, his thrusts into your mouth growing sloppier and sloppier as he gets closer to his orgasm.
“of course you can, sungie. go ahead and cum for us,” minho says, and you pick up on the tone with which he speaks. you can hear the almost sinister undertones in his words, but it’s obvious jisung doesn’t, because he releases down your throat with a moan.
he thrusts a few more times until he comes down from his high before stilling inside your mouth. he’s panting, trying to catch his breath before minho speaks up again.
“now, keep going.”
“huh?” jisung’s confused, it’s written all over his face. and there’s slight fear in his eyes. he’s well aware of what minho’s order means, but he doesn’t want to believe it.
“you wanted so badly to cum earlier, even breaking the rules to try and do so. so that’s what you’re gonna do. you’re gonna cum again.”
jisung’s frozen in his spot, and you press your hands harder against the back of his thighs so that he can’t step away. you take the chance to catch your breath as much as you can, taking deep breaths in through your nose while you wait for him to move again. but he doesn’t, each time he tries to thrust again his body shivers in overstimulation, and it stops him. minho takes matters into his own hands.
he thrusts into you with more force than before, causing you to moan around jisung as well as lurch towards jisung. you swallow around him and the younger boy whimpers from the overstimulation, his knees almost buckling beneath him, but you can tell he loves it.
minho grips your thighs, lifting your legs so that they wrap around his torso, and he’s able to thrust into you better, the slight change providing the perfect angle for him to reach deeper inside your tight walls. you can hear his breathing getting ragged, the warmth of your pussy starting to get to him, and his hips stutter every few thrusts.
minho lets out a shaky moan, and you clench around him as tight as you can, beginning to grind your hips up against him for some added friction, while jisung finally regains control of himself, managing to restart shallow thrusts into your throat.
all the nerves in your body are alight once more, and you can feel the knot forming again. you continue moaning around jisung’s cock, and the vibrations are sending him hurtling towards another release of his own. you can tell that minho is also nearing his end, his breathing is heavy, his thrusts are getting sloppy. but he doesn’t want to be the first to finish. he slides one of his hands up your body, leaving goosebumps in his fingertips’ wake before reaching your neck. he wraps his hand around your throat, and jisung’s the first to feel it. he feels the way your throat envelops him tighter, and he lets out such a desperate whine before cumming down your throat without warning. you swallow around him, feeling the way his thick cum slides down the back of your throat. his legs shake when he steps away from you, and he’s quick to lay down on the bed beside you.
minho’s hand stays around your throat as he continues to thrust into you, and he rolls his hips expertly. you’re close, so damn close to your orgasm. but you need something more, anything more, and jisung and minho can both see that. they both know what to do, minho leaning down and bringing one of your nipples into his mouth, while jisung wraps his lips around the other.
they both work in tandem, almost in sync as their tongues flick and swirl over your buds and it’s mere moments before they have you right there, standing on the precipice of ultimate pleasure, teetering on the cliffside, so close that a small gust of wind could push you over. but you fall, of your own volition, into an earth-shattering orgasm.
your entire body moves on its own, writhing, trembling. your head is thrown back, eyes squeezed shut, legs shaking and twitching around minho’s torso. your back arches, your hips buck up and down over and over again. you’ve never had an orgasm so good, so exquisite, before. minho can tell from the way your walls grip his cock tighter than ever before, the way your mouth hangs open in a silent moan that just can’t seem to escape the confines of your throat.
the almost unbearable tightness of your pussy sends him over, triggering the orgasm that he’s been fending off for longer than he’d like to admit. you’re still lost in the pleasure, blissed out from the best orgasm of your life when minho releases inside you, painting your wall white. it’s only when you both have come down from your highs that both boys detach from your chest, jisung flopping back against the pillows while minho gently pulls out of you.
“you guys good?” minho asks, leaning back, propped up with his arms. you and jisung nod, happy smiles on both your faces. “good, then i’ll go grab us some water.”
he slowly stands up, catching his breath before heading out of the room. you use the moment to quickly go to the bathroom to clean yourself up. and by the time you return to the bedroom, minho is already there, two glasses of water in his hands and one more in jisung’s. minho hands one to you as you sit back down on the bed. it’s not until you drink the cool liquid that you realise just how much your throat aches. it’s faced a lot of use over the course of the session, but you know a scratchy throat is only temporary.
“i really liked your outfits,” minho says, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled in the room.
“thank you,” you and jisung say in unison. you both giggle before you continue.
“i bought them months ago and started to give up hope that they’d even show up.”
“then it’s a really good thing they did because they just might get a lot of use,” minho replies, smiling. “did you both have fun?”
“of course! it was really good,” jisung responds first.
“yeah, i really enjoyed it,” you say.
“i’m glad.” minho grins wider, happy that you both enjoyed it. it always makes him happy to know you both had fun. “what shall we do now? get in the hot tub or watch a movie?”
“who says we can’t do both? hot tub and then a movie,” jisung says.
“i second that motion,” you add.
“alrighty then,” minho replies. “then that’s what we’ll do.”
all three of you make your ways out of the bedroom, stopping to grab a towel each on the way to the backyard. and as you all reach the hot tub, jisung and minho both pulling back the cover, you’re just excited to sink into the nice hot water with both of your loving boyfriends.
#stray kids smut#skz smut#lee minho smut#lee know smut#han jisung smut#skz jisung smut#skz han smut#skz lee know smut#skz minho smut
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Marauders #22
I absolutely hated this issue, so be warned that’s a lot of salt here, and my usual whining, so skip this post if you’re not in the mood for that. Also spoilers below.
First impression - what absolute, self-indulgent horseshit. I hesitate to use “fanfic” in a derogatory way, but a lot of Marauders has read as being very “fanfic” in terms of self-indulgence, and greatly favoring certain characters while denigrating others. I actually don’t think that’s a bad thing in fanfic. It can be annoying to read if that’s not what you’re looking for (or it can be wonderful, if it IS what you’re looking for), but ultimately, fanfic is all about self-indulgence. It’s about writing what you want to see in a story, and if Duggan’s Marauders was someone’s actual fanfic, I wouldn’t have anything bad to say about it. I might dislike the characterization, and probably wouldn’t read it, but it ultimately wouldn’t matter because it’s fanfic. Frankly, I’m just as bad about constantly centering everything around Pyro (and finding ways to work him into stories where he doesn’t even belong), because I’m writing just for myself, so I can be self-indulgent. But I’d expect much better from a professional writer. I’d expect much better from someone being paid to write a team book. I’d expect a god-damn balanced book that actually pays attention to the whole cast and gives a thoughtful interpretation to ALL the characters, even the villains, rather than a book dedicated to shining a spotlight on two already well-established characters, and treating them like queens who step all over the rest of the cast.
So, we ignore almost everything set up at the Gala, including the attack on Christian and the Marauder (the ship) being set ablaze. Why aren’t the characters handling that, Duggan? Is that really being saved for another month? We don’t even know if Christian is dead or not, you can’t even spare a panel for Iceman reacting to this? Instead, we tell a flashback story that eventually reveals that Lourdes Chantel is still alive, and Emma helped her fake her own death to escape from an abusive Sebastian.
What exactly is the point of this story, in terms of the overall Marauders arc? Will Lourdes show up later to play a role? Is this meant to further push Sebastian along some kind of path to redemption (recognizing that he drove Lourdes away with his actions). Because so far, Duggan doesn’t seem the slightest bit interested in rehabilitating Sebastian. This seems like yet another story establishing Emma GOOD, Sebastian BAD, the same message that’s been getting pounded into the readers’ heads for 22 issues. Like, we KNOW, Duggan. We know that you think the sun shines out of Emma’s ass, you’ve already well-established that you think she’s a brilliant, wonderful, compassionate, badass queen, through 22 issues of centering the entire series around her, at the expense of EVERY other fucking character in the book (even sometimes Kate, the other obvious favorite). It’s gotten beyond tiresome at this point. Like, I feel like even people who love Emma and hate Sebastian are getting bored by now, because it’s not even good storytelling to have a strawman villain who is no real threat just getting repeatedly knocked down.
So, Duggan has taken both Sebastian and Emma, and further removed any kind of complexity or nuance from them. Sebastian can’t have a kind or tender side, he can’t ever be shown in a positive light. His relationship was Lourdes was previously part of his tragic origins, pushing him to be a worse person than he’d been in a past, but no, lets retcon him to be a controlling abuser, whom Lourdes is desperate to escape. Because it makes Sebastian look bad and Emma look good. Honestly, it would have been more interesting and powerful to have Lourdes come back from the dead, and be disgusted by the person Sebastian has become. That would actually have an impact.
And by the way, why did Lourdes need Emma’s help in establishing her new identity? She was already part of the Hellfire Club, she’s the one who brought Sebastian in, she’s rich as fuck. Lourdes should be well capable of getting away from Sebastian on her own. She might need Emma’s help for faking her own death, but the rest of it? Emma should just do a little hacking to access Lourdes’ personal fortune and transfer it into a new account, and then she’s good to go. But no, Lourdes has to be treated like a little lost lamb, a helpless battered woman for Emma to rescue. And Emma’s deal with the Kingpin further exonerates Emma for her past crimes, because obviously, she’s just working off the debt she incurred helping poor, innocent Lourdes! It can’t be that Emma did bad things in the past because she was ambitious, cruel, vain, and power-hungry, she has to be a woke queen who was always there to help other women.
I think Duggan thinks he’s being feminist with all this, with the “women help each other,” message, and either ignoring or villifying all the male characters. But he’s not. It’s not feminist to take a very complex, interesting, powerful woman like Emma Frost and completely remove all responsibility and agency for her past crimes by turning her into an abuse victim and repeatedly retconning her to be better than she actually was. (To be fair, Duggan is just continuing a trend already started by other writers). Emma is ambitious, power-hungry, cruel, callous, self-absorbed, vain and snobby. But she is also brave, intelligent, compassionate, kind, protective, heroic, and self-sacrificing. All of those things are part of Emma. She is a teacher who loved her students, and the love for those students is part of what sent Emma on her long, difficult path towards redemption. Yes, she’s a badass queen, but she is also a flawed individual, who has worked to overcome those flaws and become a better person. And constantly re-writing the past to make her an “always good” abuse victim who only ever committed crimes because the big bad men forced her into it cheapens that redemption.
Speaking of cheap redemption -
The Wilhelmina subplot: Wow, Duggan really will prioritize ANY character over Bishop, Iceman and Pyro, won’t he? I know this is me throwing a tantrum, because “Wah, Duggan is writing someone other than my favorites!” but after 22 issues I feel justified in this whining. Iceman, Bishop and Pyro are supposed to be regular cast members, and so far Duggan has given more serious development and emotional scenes to Callisto, Forge, Dolores (the human contact at the X-Desk), Masque, Jumbo Carnation, Magneto, the Cuckoos, and now Wilhelmina. I don’t mind the development for many of those characters, I like Callisto and Forge and Jumbo (although I’m a little annoyed at the Magneto stuff, since he’s already front and center in the Krakoa era, and about to star in a mini-series, does he really need more time in the spotlight?). But honestly? Fuck Wilhelmina. I was never that interested in the Hellfire brats, and I’m not the slightest bit interested in watching the retcon redemption of a character that murders animals for fun. Why does she get a spotlight story while the three dudes on the team STILL haven’t gotten anything more than vague background hints of character arcs. I mean, compare the very emotional flashback and Wilhelmina’s breakdown to the half-assed, mostly taking place off- panel “redemption” that Duggan has given Pyro. Just a single line of “maybe this crew is bringing out the best in me,” with no lead-up, no further reflection, no hints about Pyro changing his ideas before then. Why did you even put Iceman, Bishop and Pyro on the team if you’re not going to use them, Duggan? Because you’ve made it quite clear that you’d rather write ANY character other than them. I can’t even look forward to Tempo and Banshee joining the cast next issue, even though I like them (and I really want to see more development of Tempo), because I know they will be yet more characters that get pushed into the foreground, while Iceman, Bishop and Pyro remain the underdeveloped background clown trio.
Also, it seems kind of offensive to have a cruel, murderous female character, and then say that her cruelty is entirely due to sexual abuse? What kind of message does that send to sexual abuse victims? That it will turn you into a monster? Why do female villains keep getting sexual abuse as part of their backstory? Why can’t they just be bad? Or have something else going on? So the Cuckoos flip a switch in Wilhelmina and she’s magically “fixed,” or at least on her way to better? Again, I think Duggan thinks he’s being feminist with this, but he’s not.
At least Wllhelmina has been a recurring villain in this series, so I can kinda see how her potential redemption may move the plot along, but Duggan is still introducing new plot threads, while leaving so many others dangling. What about Christian? What about Shinobi and Fenris? Will Bobby and Christian ever even speak to each other again? Will the supposed main cast members of Iceman, Bishop and Pyro ever, EVER get a proper character arc?
Or will we get an entire issue of Emma, Kate and the Cuckoos giving Wilhelmina a redemptive make-over, because girl power, amiright?
#not tagging on purpose#not trying to gum up the tags with my extreme salt#but seriously this was my least favorite issue so far#at least the revenge issue just destroyed Sebastian's body not his character#really fuck this nonsense it was terrible
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I really love ur headcanon about Hijabi Mc with the brothers! I really love it cuz there is no one writing about us in any fandom =(
I was thinking would u do the (un)datebale characters with Hijabi Mc if u can ? =3
If u don’t want then u can ignore the ask 🖤
Hello there, angel! I assume you meant the chaotic Hijabi MC headcanon that I wrote, so I hope you enjoyed these xx
she/her pronouns!!
The (Un)Dateable Characters' + Luke’s Reactions to a Hijabi MC That Looks Extremely Pious and Quiet but is Actually a Chaotic Mess
Diavolo
As future king of the Devildom that wishes to strengthen the relations between the three realms, prejudice and discrimination against the human exchange students’ choice of religion is a HUGE no-no
Diavolo would not mind the fact that she is wearing a symbol of her devotion to God on her head, but he would be so intrigued by this human at first meeting
Not about her religion, of course, he is well aware of all the religions in the world; Abrahamic religion being the one he is most familiar with (obvi)
What excited him was the fact that this human was so. friggin. hilarious.
He’s not even sure if this human is doing it on purpose because something would happen that would catch her off guard and she would just say?? the most random shit???
Like say, she got jumped by Mammon and her response to that would be a monotone scream and a “sTOP i could’ve dropped my croissant!” but she was actually genuinely startled
He’d be so fascinated like wow! Go girl, give us nothing!!
He would invite her over for tea so many times just so she could explain slang to him
Diavolo: Tell me MC, what is the meaning of DILF?
Due to personal reasons, MC will now be passing away
He would abuse the usage of slang everywhere and he would be so excited to finally understand what Leviathan is talking about
Lucifer: Diavolo, we must talk about the student council budget
Diavolo: That wasn’t very cash money of you
Lucifer: ....excuse me?
Diavolo: Periodt okurrr slay queen
MC has to go hide to avoid being slaughtered like a sacrificial lamb by Lucifer
Diavolo would be also be curious and impressed at the intricate planning of each and every one of her pranks
Like sure, it may be annoying to be the one at the receiving end of it, but understanding the details behind it?? All the logic, physics and patience put into it just to ensure a flawless delivery??? Absolutely stunning
MC has him mesmerised
He would absolutely want to learn the art of pranking from her
Honestly, at this point it’s no longer the human exchange student and the Devil King, it’s now the mentor and the mentee
Lucifer has to demand MC to stop teaching him these things for the sake of his sanity because it’s taking him away from his royal duties that’s keeping the Devildom from falling apart
They still meet up in secret though screw you, Lucifer
Barbatos
This is another demon whom would not mind the fact that their chosen exchange student is a Muslim
Lord Diavolo’s reputation hangs on this exchange program going extremely well, he would not let simple prejudices put a smear on that
He has prepared himself well to receive people from different walks of life just so he can provide all students a comfortable stay during their term in the Devildom
But wait...what is that human doing?
Oh...this poor man
Not only does he have to keep that ginormous labyrinth of a castle spotless and immaculate at all times and ensure that every event being hosted by the castle is going perfectly without a hitch, but he also has to take care of an overgrown man-child that is also known as the future king of the Devildom
Now, he has to make sure this...mess of a human doesn’t go stir up trouble anywhere?
Barbatos is a calm and collected man, but he’s still a demon; virtues aren’t exactly something they practice
He would need to down three cups of melancholy coffee and squeeze a stress ball whenever he catches MC in her antics whether it is alone or with someone in tow
Somehow he’s the only one whom MC would find almost impossible to prank
Like she managed to catch Lucifer off guard once (that was her proudest achievement) but BARBATOS???? yeah, it’s like he has a pair of eyes on the back of his head or something
MC: *tries to sneak up on him*
Barbatos, not even turning back: Enough of that now, MC, come enjoy this tea I’ve made
Pranking Barbatos will become her number one mission during her entire term in the Devildom
Barbatos would be really amused and impressed at the lengths she would go through just to see that shocked look on his face
Why, it might even be—dare he say—endearing
Though MC will cause this man stress and grey hairs, Barbatos couldn’t help but appreciate her company every time she came around
When she’s not up to her daily shenanigans, she would simply opt to help Barbatos out with some of the chores or preparing the treats for a tea party with the student council members and the exchange program, even though he’s mentioned that she should do no such thing
But knowing that this girl is constantly energetic and restless, Barbs agreed to let her help since he would not want to deal with her breaking some priceless antiques or getting herself in trouble with Devildom law again
She helps to remind him that it’s okay to be laidback once in a while and that he doesn’t need to be so uptight all the time
These two have an unusual friendship but it’s only good vibes all around ^^
Before she leaves the Devildom though, he would pretend that she actually managed to startle him with her last grand prank and the look on her face was worth his reputation taking a slight hit
He totally has a soft spot for her
Solomon
OOOOH THESE TWO
THESE TWO ARE THE EMBODIMENT OF CHAOS ITSELF
Solomon and MC would be the best of friends man
The minute this shady sorcerer laid his eyes on her, he KNEW...this would be his new BFF
They would wreak so much havoc together that they give Lucifer a migraine the size of Lord Diavolo’s castle because they’re rUiNiNG tHe iNtEgRiTy oF tHE eXcHanGe pRoGrAm
Psh, as if that’d stop them
Honestly, it was like they each have one braincell that cancels each other out every time they get together
Lucifer: You two better have an explanation for this
MC: We have three actually.
Solomon: Pick your favourite
Lucifer hates it whenever they get together and he would always try to prevent them from meeting up
But his wits are no match for the power of their friendship!!
Solomon would defff try to persuade MC to get more pacts with other demons
Solomon: C’monnnn MC, we could be powerful! :c
MC: Bold of you to assume we’re not powerful now, bestie
So we have established that MC loves to pull pranks right?
She would have so many ideas on the top of her head that she would never use because 1) they either defy the laws of physics or 2) she would need magic to pull it off perfectly
So imagine her excitement when she found out Solomon is the greatest human sorcerer
She would 100% reel him in her plans and schemes and NO ONE (except the angels, they have immunity bc they’re babies :] ) would be safe from them
Despite all the fun they would have though, Solomon definitely treasures her as his greatest friend
I imagine life for Solomon would be quite lonely and he appreciates the constant joy and company that MC would provide him
He would definitely fuck a bitch up if someone dares to mess with his bestie 🙄
These two adore each other so much but they would be caught DEAD before they would admit that to each other 🤭
Simeon
When they first met, Simeon was so happy to find a person so devoted to God such as MC
He takes it upon himself to become MC’s guardian angel around the Devildom
He would helicopter them for a while and would (reluctantly) back off if MC finds it a bit suffocating
(don’t be mean MC, he just cares about u alot that’s all :( )
This man is capital P patient
I mean, that’s a given with him being an angel and all
But seriously,,, one has to be in awe at how calm and collected he is even when MC would pull pranks that would cause a normal person to wanna punch the living daylights out of her
Eventually she would feel bad and stop pulling these pranks on him though, he’s just too sweet and she can’t take advantage of that </3
They would be really close though (along with Luke) because he would frequently invite her to pray the 5 essential prayers together with Luke or read the Qur’an together and it’s just wholesome vibes all around man 🥺
As angels, him and Luke would have such beautiful recitations of the Qur’an and I can picture MC frequently dropping by Purgatory Hall just to listen to him recite the kalimahs with the perfect tajweed (Non-Muslims if you’d like to hear an example, check out Sheikh Mishary reciting Surah al-Kahf, it’s beautiful man 🥺)
He would frequently invite MC and Luke out for walks too and these three would look so domestic together people often mistake them as a little family (much to the brothers’ chagrin and Simeon’s amusement)
Simeon has such a calming presence that he could even tame a chaotic MC down and have her sit still enough, it will be as if she turned into a completely different person
Lucifer, in his demon form: MC STOP RUNNING AROUND YOU’RE GOING TO FALL AND HURT URSELF
MC, violently shaking like a hamster on crack: U CANT STOP ME LUCI, URE NOT THE BOSS OF-
Simeon: Hello, MC! Would you like to come and have a pleasant chat with me? ^^
MC, as if in a trance: ...anything for you, Beyonce
MC is such a simp for Simeon and honestly, who can blame her?
Luke
Luke was extremely happy when the two of them met
This cutie is a proud servant of God and he loves humans who loves Him as much as he does
So it comes as to no one’s surprise when he attaches himself to MC
This would heighten when MC stepped between him, Beel and Lucifer during that,,,,incident
His favourite time of the day is praying in congregation with MC and Simeon and baking with MC
MC would steer clear from involving Luke in her pranks and/or outright pranking him
He’s just a precious little child okay, MC has a soft spot for this angel
She would definitely try to tone down her chaotic energy around him, but she would NOT hesitate to verbal + cyber bully any demons that dare to bully her child
Rando demon: haha shortstack
MC: So you have chosen death
Seriously, Luke would gawk at the obscenities coming from MC’s mouth
He would have to physically drag her away before the demons could devour them both
He would be absolutely SHOOKETH at the language she used because she has been nothing but sweet and polite to him. It was like she switched into a whole different person right in front of his eyes
Luke: MC! I knew living with those horrid demons is a bad idea! They’ve corrupted you now!! *crying Luke noises*
MC: Lil buddy, I was born this way
He would definitely feel really touched that MC is so protective of him though, but he would have to tell her to never say those words again, even if she’s trying to protect him
She would (hesitantly) tell him she would try her best but that would literally only last for half a day because another demon has foolishly decided to mess with him with her present
MC is Luke’s mother point blank period.
#obey me! shall we date?#obey me!#obey me hcs#obey me scenarios#obey me x mc#obey me x muslim!mc#muslim!mc#diavolo obey me#barbatos obey me#solomon obey me#simeon obey me#luke obey me#diavolo x mc obey me#barbatos x mc obey me#solomon x mc obey me#simeon x mc obey me
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King of the hill review s1e1 "Pilot"
(I'm gonna start watching koth and typing these out season by season, depending on my work schedule/metnal healt will depend on how often I put them out, with the occasional single episode ones like this one which I've already typed up so much for. A lot of people seemed to like just the Meer idea of this so im gonna finish this one and post it)
We're introduced to the main characters surrounding a truck with the hood up. The first lines of dialogue they have in the series is their iconique "yep" "yep" "yep" "mhm" followed by a short silence (aside from the alcohol consumption).
Bill is the one to break the silence and demonstrates his understanding of automobile engines.
He is followed by Dale who demonstrates himself as an idiot. "Ford stands for: Fix It Again Tony."
Boomhauer, who without subtitles i wouldn't have been able to understand, also demonstrates he understands automobiles.
Hank who does not have the courtesy of subtitles does not understand what Boomhauer says and brushes him off and instead dribbles on about George Bush in Japan? This establishes his conservativeness/dumbness (if there's that much of a difference between the two.)
Hank grabs more beer and Dale breaks off into asking about a new episode of Seinfeld dating the beginning of the show.
Boomhauer immediately starts squaking about it.
This episode of Koth aired January 12 1997, although it doesn't seem to take place in a winter month. Most likely a spring one. I want to say the episode that Boomhauer is talking about is The Wig Master (April 4, 1996) as it is an episode that features Kramer and Kramer is the subject of Boomhauers tangent.
Boomhauer ends his giggling with "Just a show about nothin." And the theme song begins to play. A good introduction into what King of the Hill is about, and so far a great way to start the show off.
Theme song ends and Hank enters Bobby's room, despite Bobby telling him he wouldn't like it Hank decides to listen to Bobby's music to find: he doesn't like it. Admittedly because it isn't music (which Hank claims to like new generation music) but because instead it's just a fart? Bobby for some reason just listens to farts.... I guess this does establish that the boy ain't right....
Hank leaves Bobby's room telling him to get ready for the game, which Bobby is clearly already dressed for?
Luanne shows she hasn't learned how to lock the bathroom door when Hank busts in to a fully toweled Luanne. He still avoids looking at her the entire time after the initial door opening. Luanne gives slight exposition by explaining her parents are currently fighting, giving her a reason to be in the Hill House.
Hank, Bobby, and Peggy pile into a car and head to the game. Peggy tells Bobby to do his best and Hank insists he should give it 110% instead of 100%. They then keep suggest 1% higher until Peggy says 13 is an unlucky number. The driving scene ends with Hank miffed saying "just give it 112%."
At the game Bobby shows his inability to play baseball and Hank shows how overzealous he is about getting Bobby to play. Bobby gets hit with a ball when he's not paying attention giving set up for future events within the episode.
Hank Hill stops at the Mega Lo Mart for WD-40. Its not that important that I mention the WD-40. I just like the way he says Dubya Dee Fordy.
Two gossips see Hank interact with Buckley (who doesn't seem to recognize Hank, let alone where he even is in the store) along with Bobby who has a black eye following close behind him.
As Hank gets more and more frustrated with Buckley, Bobby begins swinging a cardboard tube around like a baseball bat. The gossips see Hank with his temper and wonder if he gave Bobby the black eye (theyre voiced by Nancy and Peggy without changing the voices even a little bit). Bobby swings the bat a little too close to some cans and knocks them over prompting Hank to scream YOU'RE FIRED (???? who gave Hank the authority???) at Buckley when he tells Hank that he'll have to pay for the damages.
The two gossips' words spread around and eventually get to the erroneously named Arlen County Child Protective Services (I suppose Heimlich County hasn't been established yet). And we're introduced to Anthony Page whos proportions make him look like he's in the wrong cartoon.
We cut back to hank and friends and Dale goes on his rant about Glo-Bal warming. He says we'll grow oranges in Alaska. Hank calls him a giblet head and tells Dale he'll hold him personally responsible if Texas gets any hotter in the summer. His anger is further pushed by a thumping noise.
Which we see is Bobby playing ball in the house while watching TV. He accidentally smacks his mother in the face with it when she pauses to lament about a man on TV who had botched surgery.
Bobby is once again throwing the ball in the house, enter the social worker, and Hank fixing his truck. The sound distracts Dale from pointing the flashlight correctly which then causes Hank to screw up and the hood of his car to fall on him and Dale runs off instead.
"Hank is as gentle as a lamb," says Peggy followed by Hank barging in, grabbing the baseball and throwing it screaming, "STOP BOUNCING THAT BALL!" Note: the ball zoomed past Mr. Page and into the street making a glass shattering noise. What glass he could have shattered at that angle I'm not quite sure of.
After Tony insinuates the bruise on Peggy's head was caused by the same ball they told him hit Bobby in the eye, he asks if Bobby is their only child. Peggy manages to tell this random dude about Hank's narrow urethra and Hank gets loud.
Our Italian alien looking friend tells Hank "Loud is not Allowed." This sets Hank off on a rant about how he works for a living as opposed to writing down nonsense. This is the first mention of Hank's job selling Propane and Propane Accessories.
Hank's face turns visibly red as talks about his tax dollars going to fund... CPS? I understand that twig boy is very much not doing any actual investigation and is completely biased but... come on now Hank? Chuld protective services?? Anyways Hank asks for some B.C. Headache Powder and a glass of water. He then proceeds to yell at Anthony again and threatens him to get out before he gives HIM a black eye. Not the best choice of words there Hank. Also both of these rants are set to the National Anthem for some reason.
Our self proclaimed hero of this story then goes on to interview neighbors about Hank. Starting with Dale who is interrupted by Nancy leaving to get a headache treatment from John Redcorn. "You've been going to that healer for 12 years and you still get headaches every night." Imagine getting dicked down roughly 4380 days in a row.
After Nancy leaves it goes back to our city slicker asking if Hank has ever hit his child which Dale explains that Bobby is his pride and joy because of his Narrow Urethra. Very interesting world where Dale knows Hank has a narrow urethra but not that his own wife is cheating on him. Joseph is introduced and the paper white boy does a double take as he's the spitting image of John Redcorn.
Boomhauer has mistaken the defunct social worker as??? Someone whos there to do something about a barking dog? Once again if not for the subtitles I'd be lost on what he's saying but what the hell is he talking about. Our pencil pusher backs away slowly.
Bobby and Joseph are trying to get pebbles into the exhaust of the truck in the next scene, impressively they make a few shots. Joseph asks to reassure that Hank does not in fact hit him and Bobby confirms that Hank is all Bark and proceeds to mock the propane salesman. Joseph proceeds to try and while he's making fake threats in Hank's voice our Valiant Savior overhears and somehow mistakes his voice to actually be Hank's....
Cut to the actual Hank and he's found Luanne's panties. They're very cute pink ones. Peggy calls Luanne in to Hank's protests and she comes in crying and expositions about her mother attempting to stab her father with a fork then being sent to jail. She says her trailer was tipped over but does not elaborate as to how. Although she does say it will be on a TV show! Kind of wish theyd make an episode out of that alone.
Hank assures Luanne as best he can and lets her know she can stay with them until her mom comes home. Hank offers to let her use power tools to style a wig that was also damaged in the process of the trailer being flipped over. This immediately calms Ms. Platter.
A doorbell is heard and the Hills (minus Luanne) answer the door to find Our Holy King making his return to try to get our Poor Abused Child to come outside and go live with a family in North Arlen (not even gonna try to find somewhere in a different town??) Hank tries to offer him Luanne instead. The social worker makes an effort to try to get Bobby to come with him but Bobby clearly doesn't care or want to go. Hank chases him away and even hits his car, Ladybird making her first appearance running with him and barking at Anthony.
Mr. Page is confronted by his boss about not having found any actual abuse but recommending state custody. He called the entire neighborhood redneck city to a man with a strong country accent, bruh. The boss asks him if he talked to the little league coach, WHICH THE BOSS KNOWS BY NAME (Harvey) and our Los Angeles boy is sweatin fierce.
Cut back to Hank and Peggy with their ears covered they come outside to BOBBY WITH A STOP SIGN HE CUT DOWN USING A DRILL THAT HE'S HITTING WITH A HAMMER??? How did he get a Fucking Stop Sign??? Hank immediately yells at Bobby about this and Bobby calmly states back that Hank can't yell at him or the state will take him away. This frustrates Hank but he does his best not to outburst again after Bobby picks up the stop sign and runs away dragging it behind him.
Once inside the house Bobby answers a call from CPS, they inform him the case has been dropped and our boy from L.A. will be heading back home. He chooses not to tell his parents instead opting to tell them it was a wrong number. After this scene the stop sign is never seen again 😔.
Hank apparently makes bacon and mayo sandwiches. Hold the bacon grease. No wait he adds the bacon grease back. Luanne comes into the kitchen and demonstrates that she knows more about cars than any of the guys as she has fixed his truck's problem: a clogged fuel line.
We cut to Hank outside the garage asking Bobby to plug in a power tool in the garage, Robert (with Joseph in tow) agrees and does so but also grabs the opener and starts opening and closing the door on his father. Hank begins to yell again and Bobby reminds him that it isn't proper adult-child conversation. Hank settles down a bit and through gritted teeth asks Bobby to return it to factory setting of down and walks away. Joseph is very pleased by this.
We then see a montage of similar things happening in succession. Bobby knocking a fence down with a bat, dressing ladybird up and taking pics of her on his mower, and finally spraying Hank with a hose. As he does this the Anthony's ex boss comes over and knocks on the door.
We cut over to Bobby in his bed making sound effects. He is informed by Peggy that the man came over and told them the investigation was off. Bobby says he likes his father better this way he can "make him love me even when I screw up" and Peggy asks if he really thinks that.
Peggy is shown going into the bedroom (not really sure if this is their bedroom... there is a picture of cotton on the wall [pre shin loss] and it doesn't look like their bedroom in future episodes) and she insists Hank vocally tell Bobby that he loves him. Hank explains that he can't do that "you know how I was raised" followed by a flashback of a young Hank and a shinless Cotton telling Hank not to cry about his knee scrape.
Hank heads out to the porch to talk to Bobby who is sitting on lawn furniture. And Hank stumbles over words trying to explain to Bobby that he cares for him. Bobby doesn't understand and Hank makes some weird voice cracking sound. "You.... family." Hank then, after little bit more stumbling, manages to blurt out "ILoveYouNoMatterWhatYouDo." And then offers food.
Bobby asks if he's not a disappointment and Hank assures him that he's proud of him and cares for him. He then play fights with Bobby and the city boy sees it and proclaims he was right but is cut off by another passenger and says "never mind." And the episode fades to black. Cue theme song.
The quoted line at the end of the episode is blank. This episode predates that tradition apparently.
Okay so now for some more of my own thoughts
I joked around a lot but I do see where the social worker is coming from on some level. He believed he was investigating a case of abuse. He just wasn't very smart about it. He really should have talked to the coach immediately after hearing about the baseball incident. Or literally anyone that could have been at the game that day. That's all it would have taken and he would have still have had a job. But it's a good thing he doesn't anymore because his own negligence could have separated a family.
I won't claim they're the most functional family. But if the most Hank does (up until this point, not gonna count that awful smoking ep just yet) is simply yell at Bobby then they're a much better family than I had growing up. Does Hank need to work on his anger issues? From this episode alone I'd say a solid Yes. He was a dick to a store employee which is very much not a cool thing to do. There was some justification in being angry at Bobby, I mean the kid tortured him at the end there, but he should have sought a better release than the one he had.
Overall I'd say this is a really good episode to start the series on, it's entertaining and funny and properly builds up the world.
#king of the hill#koth#hank hill#dale gribble#bill dauterive#luanne platter#peggy hill#bobby hill#long post
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sing for the lion and lamb
Summary: “This was what she had signed up for - a good man and minimal pleasure.”
WARNINGS: spoilers as we get through it, swearing, backstory, struggles, this is one of the happiest chapters
Pairing: Dectetive Loki x Reader
Word Count: 3.7k
A/N: i’m a mess over prisoners and i wrote this super mess series called 1996. this is the first chapter. this is finished so i’ll be posting the other parts later but its movie+extra scenes bc theres so much stuff to get through and also reader and loki need to get through shit
... | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05
To say you love Loki would be a stretch. Two humans, born and raised in Pennsylvania who just happened to have known each other since the care system should have a natural tendency to gravitate towards each other. The two of you found each other again, so you are bound to have some sort of connection. But whilst you have a certain fondness for the man, a certain bond you are quite sure was deeper than blood, you wouldn’t name it love.
No, love is for those who didn’t know better.
Love is not for the shadows of your eyes or the darkness in his soul. Love is not for men and women like you.
“Detective.”
Your eyes raise from the police report of the missing girls before you, blinking away the black boxes and messy scribbles as the man tilts his head at you. “You need something?”
The corner of his mouth twitch into something almost like a smile but your eyes only soak in the pale half-moons under his eyes. He’s sleeping again. Good. He needs all he could get before the case on the missing kids gets some steam. Rolling out your neck, you slide the report into a manila folder and stand.
“Wanted to know if you wanted to head home for a minute or two.” There comes his wide smile, one that completely morphs his face. It tugs at his cheeks, wrinkles his eyes, makes him look younger than he is. Whenever he smiles as he does now, it makes you forget about the paleness in his cheeks, the taste of coffee on his tongue, the rough stubble along his jaw. It makes him look young and handsome and like the street kid you’d known.
He knows you like that smile. Like looking at him. In bed, flushed and moaning, or otherwise. He knows it will convince you and you roll your eyes because this is not going to be a rare occasion where it’ll fail.
“Are you trying to sweet-talk me?” You stretch your arms high above your head, ignoring the way his smile drops off his face as you turn off the burning lamp on your desk. Only the pale lights of the office remains, washing the both of you in ugly pale light.
“If you have room for dinner, maybe I will.”
You grab your long coat, popping the collar around your cheeks and he pushes off the wall of your cubicle, walking around and stuffing his hands in his pockets. You sling your bag onto your shoulder and pull hair from underneath your collar.
“No plans for Thanksgiving?” you ask, knowing the answer. It’s only polite to ask. Detective Loki always has a pleasant way of surprising you outside the bedroom.
“None without you, I s’pose.”
“And we’ve spent the day at work.” You don’t sound particularly surprised and the detective merely shrugs. “Come on, I know a place.”
He cocks his head to the door. It isn’t only the two of you in the station at this time of night but your caffeine-lacking brain rationalizes that they wouldn’t care and you lean up to kiss his jaw. He turns at the last moment and presses a hard kiss against your mouth, teeth snagging on your lips and you sigh into his mouth, tasting coffee and gum and the faint scent of his aftershave. Hands finding his jaw, your fingers scratch at his cheek, trail down his neck and take fistfuls of his jacket.
Your heart thrums in your throat, beats at your stomach like a drum and all you want to do is peel off the clothes burning your body, feeding the fire in your core as he noses your chin, granting himself access to your neck.
“Hey,” you whisper, hands carding through his hair. You aren’t quite sure if you want to push him away or pull him closer as he raises his head from where he’d been sucking a wet mark along the cord of your throat. “I’m hungry.”
“I know.” He ducks again to gently nip at the mark and you smack him lightly, pushing him away.
“You know I’m actually fucking hungry,” you mutter and he growls against your lips, kissing your mouth bruisingly and too, too quickly before he rips himself away. You hadn’t even realized he’d been sucking the life out of you while his hands had casually been in his pockets but he shrugs, the jacket shifting along his shoulders.
Cocky bastard.
“Come on. Sooner we get dinner, sooner I get you,” he whispers against your ear and you chuckle into his mouth as he snags another kiss.
.
“Do you know what your, uh, Chinese zodiac sign is?”
You wipe at your mouth with a napkin, frowning when your lipstick smears over white. The detective looks up from where he was reading the meaning of each on the paper place mat, offering a smile. This restaurant is one of your favourites, having been the restaurant you went to after your… well, you wouldn’t call it a first date. You went here for a meal once, alone, ‘cause you were hungry after a night with the man sitting across from you.
After-fucking meal. That’s the phrase. Apt, and conventional, and...
Point is, you like it here and you want him to like it.
He sips on his white mug, taking in the tea as you push around your fried rice. He’s working on some noodles as you drag a finger over the drawings of the Chinese zodiac on the paper.
“No. Do you?”
“Rat.” You watch as he turned to read, finger trailing until he finds the animal at the top of the list.
“Intelligent, charming, quick-witted. Hm.” He arches an eyebrow and you roll your eyes as the waitress came with the check. It’s only the two of you in this small establishment and you look around, nothing the absence of fortune cookies in the red metallic bowl near the register.
“Happy Thanksgiving.”
“Thanks.” He raises his hand to gesture in a vague shape and you squint as the waitress poured your mug full of tea. “Hey, you have any of those, um, fortune cookie things?”
“My boss told me cops don’t like fortune cookies.”
“Well, it’s Thanksgiving,” you murmur and the waitress laughs under her breath. “What’s your Zodiac sign?”
“Monkey.”
You toss a glance expectantly at the man sitting across from you and he drops the bill he was reading, looking down at the paper.
“Very intelligent. You have an ability to influence people.” You hum thoughtfully at his answer as he continues, “Maybe you could influence your boss to lower the check a little bit?”
You snort quietly, hiding your laugh as you pull out your wallet. Picking up the slip of paper, you read the the total and begin to lay out bills to pay as the waitress shakes her head.
“Mr. Li is a rooster, Detective,” you comment, extending the check back to the waitress.
“Thank you.”
“Keep the change.”
“How do you know that?” You don’t miss the edge of his tone as he takes another sip of his tea. Jealousy. You opt not to answer and his gaze drops to the paper.
“What does the rooster mean?” Leaning on your hand, you watch as he reads out the description.
“He’s selfish and eccentric.” His eyes raise to meet yours and his gaze carries a hint of mischief. “That’s—”
In unison, both your phones vibrate. David’s clatters against the table and you shove a hand into your bag, feeling for yours. Digging out the phone, you stand and gather your coat and bag as David grabs his own raincoat. The heels on your boots click hard against the tile in your haste to get from the restaurant to the car with as little rain contact as possible as David answers the phone, right at your heels.
Shielding yourself from the rain, you walk to the car and duck into the old thing, slamming the door shut. He slides in beside you, twisting the keys in the ignition and he hands you the radio on instinct. As the two of you pull out of the parking lot, you can’t help the warmth in your gut extinguishing.
It is so easy to pretend, sometimes. To act as if you’re people you wish you could be. A bitter taste floods your mouth as you think about moments like the ones in the restaurant, ones where you felt so perfectly normal that it’s crazy to even think about the broken parts between you and the man beside you.
But then you’re dragged back into the real world. The real world of long nights, and bullet rain, and the fact that you and David are merely co-workers who live together because that is the only way you can survive having him in your life. Any more than what he is now, the occasional hook-up, your partner in every case, it might as well break you.
It’s clockwork, working with him. Without rust or a knot in the system, you never feel like there is a task you cannot handle, a case you cannot crack. That ease, that bond, doesn’t come from something messy like what could’ve been. It comes from someone who knows your mind better than you.
The thought terrifies you at night because you sure as hell think about what could’ve been more than you’d like to admit.
Shaking yourself of the person you were in the restaurant into the person you are, you roll down the window and let rain-slick wind slice into your cheeks. There is a plastic container of gummies on the dash and you reach for it, nerves biting at your fingers. Your other hand reaches for the radio as you respond.
“This is 13-40 and 13-41. We’re five minutes out. We’ll meet the responding units there.”
.
Your whole body drenched in sleet-cold rain, you feel your jaw twitch as David interrogates the man into the corner of the room. You can’t help the pity welling up inside you as you gently tease your hair through a proffered towel, and you can’t help the fire burning in your stomach, warming you from the inside out.
His tactic, getting up close and personal with the potential suspect, always has a way of messing with you.
Shaking it off, you ignore the thoughts that dog at you persistently — the images of him grabbing at Alex Jones and wrenching him to his feet — as you turn away. You squeeze your hair between the towel as you walk through the halls of the station, your heels echoing in the mostly-empty building. Linoleum reflects the artificial light as you reach the locker room, pushing open the door and throwing the damp towel into the dirty wash basket.
Shedding your long rain coat, you sigh and begin to unbutton your blouse. It sticks to your skin like wet paper as the air conditioning puffs goosebumps onto your chest and arms. You unzip your boots, tugging them off before peeling away your pants and examining the status of your socks. Your badge clatters against the wooden bench as you sit down in nothing but your bra and underwear. Your nose twitching, you stare down at your toes and inhale sharply. Rain is clogging up your sinuses, but your socks are dry.
Not soaked through, so boots held up. Good.
The shower pelts against your skin, hot bullets that slam into your skull deliciously and chase whatever chill rain left on your skin as you hear the door open. Closing your eyes, you let the shower run over your face, focusing on the hissing stream over the clatter of boots you can hear.
It’s nearing 12 AM and you are sure everyone who doesn’t want to be here and don’t need to be here are gone. No one is here more than you and David. No one showers in here if they had a choice. So much for Thanksgiving. Should I be giving thanks that we might’ve caught the sick fucker already? Perhaps.
In your heart, somehow, you know it isn’t him.
Through the shuffling of fabric, you rake shampoo through your hair and begin to lather your body with soap, merely waiting until he shows up as steam begins to soak into your skin. A pair of pants drop to the tile, the clink of a belt against ceramic. Then, soft footsteps that brush against the shower tile and a shadow that blocks out the faint light. Taking a deep breath, you run your hand over your face and pull open the shower curtain.
“Come here,” you murmur over the steam rolling out of your little shower stall. David steps in through the shaft of light that pours through to your little world before thrashing the curtain back into place. The stall dims remarkably as he leans down to kiss your forehead. You step back so he can stand under your stream of burning hot water and he blinks against the current.
Your forehead rests against his collarbone. His arms rise to run hands through his hair and he cards fingers through the dark strands as your hands encircle his waist. It’s darkly intimate, and all too familiar but you can’t help the addicting heat that he provides. Water runs down his chest and over your arms as you count the tattoos on his chest. One, two, three...
“Any leads?” Your voice is barely audible over the hiss of the shower.
“Aunt’s house.” He has a tattoo of a robin mid flight along his ribcage, and you trace the arc of its wing, palm flat against his heaving ribs. It’s one you know every stroke of, one you watched being carved into his chest. Your eyes close as a finger curls underneath your chin, lifting you to him. “Open your eyes.”
You do to see strands of hair falling into his eyes, his skin red against the blistering heat of the shower. Cupping his face with one hand, you use your fingers to delicately pull away the dark slick hair. His eyes bleeding midnight, his breath ghosts against your lips as his finger trails down your neck. His hand is warm against your throat and he makes sure that your eyes do not stray. As if an astronomer can look away from the phenomenon in the universe, a clash of asteroids, a dying star. He reaches into your mind, pulls you apart like a well-worn book, and reads your thoughts like a diary entry before he pulls out and his eyes fill with shards of glass.
“This isn’t like that,” he promises, insists, convinces you, and you nod because it’s the only thing you can do. Your heart splits in your chest, thrumming in your mouth and crushing your stomach all at once as his gentle grip on your neck firms. Your hands trail his waist, fingers dancing along tattoos that used to have meaning as you count the seconds you can stay standing. “We’re gonna find these girls.”
“Yeah. I know that.”
He sighs, eyes searching your face and you kiss him fully, softly. His lips taste of wind and rainwater.
The shower turns off and the two of you step out, drying each other’s legs and arms, face and hair as is routine when you shower together, and then you get dressed. He clips your badge to your belt, you slide the ring onto his pinky finger. He zips up your boots, you clip the necklace around his neck.
Clockwork.
You toss your hair up into a tight knot and hang your raincoat over your arm. Your gut twisted, you turn to your… something. He gives you a short nod, raking his hair back with rough fingers. You shed your old self, leave it in the shower to slip into the drain.
“Let’s go.”
.
Whilst David went for the Birches, you stop outside the Dovers, walking up the steps. The two of you had gotten no sleep last night after the visit to the aunt’s and forensics for the RV came back negative. Caffeine rules your system as you climb the steps and ring the doorbell.
A kid no older than sixteen or seventeen answers, all pale and terrified-looking. He looks like he hasn’t slept a wink either and you press your lips together. Although you empathize with the family, you can’t afford to become attached. You nudge your coat to flash your badge and the kid steps aside. Your fingers unclench from its tight fist as you enter the home.
“What’s your name, kid?”
“Ralph. Uh, my dad… I… I saw the RV first. Did my dad tell you guys that?”
You pause, turning around to spot the kid closing the door. He looks like he’s seen death, and his eyes are wide-eyed and shine under the light through the windows. Poor kid.
“Yeah, I read the statement.”
“Okay, Dad wanted me to, uh, make sure,” the boy says and you follow him to where a blonde sits on the couch, tissues littered around her. “Mom?” The woman looks up as you stick out a hand for her to shake.
“Detective Y/L/N. My partner and I are heading the case for your missing daughter.”
“Yes, of course. Sit. Do you need anything to drink?” She begins to unfurl on the couch but you simply hold out a hand. The woman’s face is sallow and thin, and she looks almost as if she is phasing from another time to your present. You sit down on the couch. Her voice scratches and you wonder when the last time she ate was, the last time she showered or drank or slept.
“I’m fine, thank you. I’m just here to…” Your voice fades as your phone vibrates in your pocket and you dig it out, turning on the screen to see an email notification from David. Opening it up, you frown at the few attachments strung along.
Better photos of the other kid. Heading over to you now.
-D
“So, did we pass?” As you watch the bar across the screen signify the speed of your download, you also begin to forward the photos to the Captain.
“Hm?” You are only half-listening. Your phone vibrates again and you open up the downloaded photos, letting out a soft sigh as round, dark brown eyes stare back at you on your tiny screen. What a fucking shame.
“The poly thing. The lie detector we took this morning.” Turning off your phone, you let it fall into your tight fist as you look at the mother. She stares at you as if you hold all the answers and you swallow a tight knot. “Did we pass?”
“Yeah. You’re fine. I don’t think anyone really suspected the two of you anyway,” you say, glancing at your phone again. “Thank you for your cooperation, though. You understand — the formalities we have to take. Precautions.” You tuck a slip of hair behind your ears and her eyes flicker to the movement, gaze following your fingers. You know what she is trying to do and you interlace your fingers, hiding the permanent ink needled into your skin along your knuckles.
“Yes, of course. It’s just… it’s embarrassing. I don’t know. All this fuss — people are just going to think we’re crazy when they show up here, perfectly fine or… I don’t know.” The woman’s arms crossed tight against her chest, she doesn’t even look at you anymore. Your eyes dart to her knuckles to find them stark white, her fingers digging into the flesh of her bicep.
“Do you have any reason to believe they might’ve run away?” The words come out tough as rubber in your mouth. The woman’s eyes close and you sigh, already regretting your words. You know in your gut that that isn’t the case.
“No,” she breathes, “no. They’re happy. They… the must have run away.” A silly child’s game. The woman nods along to her own words as she tries to convince herself. Your heart crumbles to ash in your chest as you force on a smile. “I think they must have run away, right?”
“Of course, Mrs. Dover. But we’ll find them,” you assure, setting a hand gently on her knee. She seems to quiver under your palm as she swallows and looks at you with bleak, earthwet eyes.
“Your police captain told me about the two of you. Um, he said that you and your partner—” You suck in a quiet breath, already knowing what her next words are going to be. You don’t like it, the pressure, the want to keep a record pristine, but your reputation has always preceded you in cases like these. Cases where you just wanted to find the grave and be done with it when your very thought should be finding a warm body, not a cold one— “he told me that the two of you have solved every case you’ve ever been assigned. Is that right?”
Your nails dig into the flesh of your palms as you look away. You don’t want to give this woman hope, even if she needs it. It’s stupid, you realize, to stare at the reflection of yourself when you have already smashed every mirror.
Your nose twitches.
The doorbell rings. The kid, Ralph, goes to get it again as you look up at the woman. She’s beginning to break down, hiding her face in her hands as she mumbles out apologies.
“I’m sorry. I am so sorry,” she whispers through her tears as the door opens. You can see the shadow of him on the walls before he comes in and you shake your head minutely as soon as your gazes meet. Nothing here. “Do you… do you have children, detective?”
You bite your lip until you taste blood.
“We’re gonna find your daughter.” Mrs. Dover looks up jerkily, flinching at the man’s voice. Closing your eyes, you hang your head as your partner walks deeper into the room. Everything feels like it’s been scooped out of you, replaced with nothing but sick and acid.
You can’t listen to promises you aren’t quite sure you can keep anymore.
#fic: 1996#prisoners#prisoners 2013#detective loki#detective loki x reader#detective loki imagine#detective loki x you#detective loki x y/n#detective loki x yn#detective loki fanfiction#jake gyllenhaal#jake gyllenhaal fanfiction#jake gyllenhaal x reader#jake gyllenhaal imagine#jake gyllenhaal fanfic#jake gyllenhaal x you#jake gyllenhaal x yn#jake gyllenhaal x y/n#my writing
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Sanctuary - Chapter 28
Warnings: none really
Tagging: @alievans007, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @valkyrie-of-the-light, @thorsbathroomchicken, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y
The phone call comes in shortly before one pm; the SAT system easily tracing the number back to the Slainte pub. At first she just blankly stares at the digits and the name on the screen, not having the energy or the patience to deal with whatever bullshit would greet her the moment she answers. She's in a 'mood'. Rapidly switching from the lowest of lows to the highest of highs; either dissolving into tears at the drop of a hat or frantically cleaning the room and organizing paper work and files on the lap top. Torn between wanting to curl up in bed and stay there for the entire day, and desperately wanting something...anything...to keep her mind occupied. She's nauseous. Dizzy. A pounding headache that sits at the base of her skull and above her eyes.
Stress. Always the same old, same old when her nerves are shot. The same symptoms she suffers with for days when Tyler walks out of the house for a job. Incessant worry accompanied by crippling fear and the deepest and darkest recesses of depression. But at home she is able to beat it; focusing on the kids, concentrating on their needs, their laughter and their smiles and all of their hugs and their kisses making it all a bit easier to handle.
The SAT phone beeps. Indicating a text message. Groaning loudly in protest, she throws off the comforter as she lays on her stomach in the middle of the bed, propping herself up on one elbow as she reaches out for the offending object.
You missed a call. Nik's message reads. Everything okay?
Part of her wants to tell Nik to fuck off and leave her alone. That it's partly her fault for getting her mixed up into this god awful shitty mess to begin with. Nik could have had her side in the whole thing; adamantly refusing to bring her into the fold, not allowing Yaz and Tyler to call the shots when it came to the Intel and now the tactical sides of things. But Nik had just thrown her under the bus; offering her up like some kind of sacrificial lamb. Acting as if there weren't other people that couldn't do the job. Other mercenaries looking for work. Who were much more experienced. Seasoned. Hardened. Instead of putting all her faith and trust into someone who had become nothing more than a housewife and stay at home mother.
The other part reminds Esme that Nik is her friend. Regardless of her history with Tyler. Nik was the one who'd initially brought her into the fold five and a half years ago; who'd brought her along when she'd gone to the little shack in the Australian outback to recruit Tyler for the Dhaka job. In a way, it was all Nik's doing; had she not brought Esme aboard and had her tag along that day, this part of her life wouldn't even exist. There would be no Tyler. No hobby farm in Colorado. No children. She would more than likely still be living the old existence; living out of suitcases as she travelled place to place. Lying. Conning. Getting people to trust her so she in turn could help destroy them.
Fell asleep, she types back. If it's important, they'll call back.
She waits for the response. And in true Nik fashioned, it makes her want to hurl the phone across the room.
Get your head on straight, E. We don't have time for this.
Sighing heavily, she rolls over onto her back and stares up at the ceiling. One hand on her queasy, cramping stomach, the other holding the SAT down at her side. He's been gone for an hour; McCann had insisted on meeting forty five minutes from Belfast. Worried that there were too many eyes and ears within the city itself and that word would travel fast and the end result would be hell on earth. He had a lot of enemies within the IRA. He knew too much. Deep and dark secrets that could bring down a lot of very powerful people. And his involvement with someone like Tyler would set off a lot of alarms.
She worries that it's more. Something far more devious. Dangerous. He hasn't given them any reason to trust him. Right off the hop he'd fed them complete and utter bullshit regarding his New Zealand extraction; convincing them that his wife just nothing but a lowly, random shopkeeper when she'd actually been the reason he'd been hired in the first place. He hadn't gone after on a rescue mission; he'd been hired by the devil to take her straight back to hell. A man in this thirties wooing and winning a seventeen year old girl that was essentially at his mercy. That alone is extremely troubling. And taking into account his ties to the IRA and possible lingering connections to them, it was easy to assume that his plan to get Tyler nearly an hour away from the safety net of Belfast is also some of ruse. To get him alone and vulnerable.
Or to hit him where it really hurts and get her alone and vulnerable.
The nausea increases. Eyes closing as she rubs her stomach in slow, smooth circles, struggling to keep a grip on the runaway emotions. They normally weren't this bad. Usually she could easily talk herself out of the stress and the panic before they hit head on. But now it feels as if it's going way too quick. Too fast, too soon. So much worry and anxiety that it makes her head spin and her chest ache.
Her SAT rings once more. The pub. Again. Only this time she's able to get a grip, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and moving towards her laptop as it sits open on the table by the window. Once she's within a foot it causes the system to come alive; the recording of the call beginning even before she presses talk.
****
“Hello?”
“Is this Meghan?”
She recognizes his voice. Billy. The barkeep from the pub.
“William,” she warmly greets, with the same flirtatious tone she'd used the night before when she'd dropped his full name for the first time. She'd noticed then how it seemed to get under his skin; in a good way. That little smile that tugged at his lips, the slight blush in her cheeks and the tips of her eyes, the way his eyes seemed to soften and sparkle.
It had been one the easiest marks of her career. Most took a while to warm up to her. Taking weeks to even months to soften up their hardened and weathered exteriors. But he'd been eager; ready to let someone in. And what better someone than an established, attractive, and seemingly available woman? One that would do anything...or perhaps even anyone...to get ahead in the world.
“I hope I didn't catch you in a bad spot. I was wondering if you had a little time to spare.”
“For you?” she leans back in her chair, a barefoot planted against the cool glass of the sliding door. A far cry from the evening before when she'd played the part in her business slacks and curve hugging blouse. Clad now in one of her her husband's tattered and frayed t-shirts and pair of baggy grey track pants with the Emery surfboard company name and logo down one leg; small blotches of bleach dotting the fabric in several places. No make up and her hair messy. “For you I can make the time, William.”
A silent pause. And she smirks as she leans further back in the chair and places her second foot against the window, twirling a piece of hair around her index finger.
“I like that,” he says. “The way you call me that.”
“Well that is you're name, isn't it?” she crosses one her legs over the thigh of the other, bouncing her heel up and down against the glass. “You are William, are you not? That is what Billy is short for, I assume.”
“It is,” he confirms with a chuckle. “It's just that no one has called me that in a long time. Since my wife.”
“You're married?” she reaches over to snag the pen and spiral bound notebook off the table. It's full of random notes and doodles in various different colours of ink; her and Tyler both using it to hurriedly jot down names and numbers and any other bits and pieces of information, vital or not. It's old school and shouldn't be necessary with the computer recording everything off the SAT, but technology isn't always fool proof.
“I was. We're divorced. Bad break up. She was shagging a mate of mine.”
“Well that's unfortunate,” she hurriedly flips to a fresh page of paper and places the book on her thigh. “Hard to believe anyone would cheat on someone like you. If you forgive me for being so bold, but you aren't exactly lacking in the looks department. You're quite the head turner. In my humble opinion.”
“Well thank you,” he chuckles, and she can practically see the blush creeping into his cheeks and the tips of his ears. It's not entirely a lie; he is quite easy on the eyes. And a much younger and single Esme would have considered..albeit briefly...crossing that line between business and personal. “You're easy to look at yourself. Very easy to look at actually.”
“I take it this isn't a business call,” she muses.
“Not entirely. It's a little bit of both. Business and pleasure.”
She smirks. “And what kind of pleasure are we talking about? Because I don't usually get into that sort of thing with someone I barely know.”
“I was thinking dinner. And drinks. If you're free.”
“Well that depends.”
“On what?”
“If you tell me a little more about yourself. I can't jump into anything with a stranger. A young woman, alone in a foreign country, far from home. That wouldn't be smart would it? If I just blindly trusted you and took you up on the offer?”
“Well what is you want to know?”
“Well I think dinner and drinks calls for first and last names,” she says. “You know mine. So...”
“It's Flynn. My last name,”
“William Flynn,” she repeats, as she jots it down. “That has a very nice ring to it. How old are you William Flynn?”
'How old are you?” he counters.
“I asked first. And isn't it always ladies first?”
“I suppose,” he chuckles. “Twenty eight. And you.”
“Thirty,” she lies.
“I honestly thought much younger,” he admits, and she can't help but let it inflate her ego. And encourage her to continue with the little game. “You look good. For thirty. Very good, actually. Do you have children?”
“No,” that lie actually hurts to tell it, and she tries to push the intense feeling of guilt to the back of her mind. “I'm too focused on my career right now. You?”
“A son. He's three. Collin. Lives with his mom. In Dublin.”
She continues to scribble things down. “That's sad,” she hopes it sounds sincere. “I hope you get to spend time with him. That's quite the trek down to Dublin.”
“Every second weekend. I'd like it to be more often but...” he sighs. “...it is what it is. So you're not married? But you still wear a ring?”
“I've had a hard time severing that last string. It's a bitter pill to swallow. When the man of your dreams pick his job over you. When your happily ever after doesn't exactly turn out that way. He wasn't happy. As a husband. We were much happier before. Before things got too serious.”
“Well pardon me for saying this, but he's a goddamn fool. He has to be to choose work over the likes of you. So have you thought about it? My offer? Dinner and drinks?”
“I'm intrigued,” she admits. “What's in this for me? Other than the handsome and charming company?”
“I have some information. About what you asked about last night. Michael McMann. About his wife and kids and whose involved and trying to stir up trouble. And I've got some names. Of other people you can contact. That are willing to talk. People that are higher up than I am. With real connections.”
“Higher up in...”
“The IRA.”
She grins victoriously and in big letters at the top of the page, right under the name William Flynn, prints those three initials. “You're involved with them? The IRA?”
“It's the family business. What I can tell you is that we're not involved in this. With the wife and kids. We hate the guy. He screwed us over. But we'd never do that. Especially to kids. Even we draw the line somewhere. But whoever is doing this has pissed off a lot of people. Tempers are running high. We want to find out who it is and do something about it.”
“Like a turf war?” she writes that down, accenting it with a big question mark.
“There's a lot of trouble brewing, that's for sure. We want nothing to do with this. The wife and the kids. And they're using us to draw attention away from themselves.”
“Any idea who it is?”
“No real proof. Just lots of rumours. I shouldn't be talking about all of this right now,” he gives a small chuckle. “What will we talk about dinner?”
“Oh I'm sure we can find things to talk about,” she assures him.
“Or things to do.”
“Now don't go putting all your eggs into one basket. I'm not that type girl.”
“I'm sorry, Meghan. I never meant anything by it. Forgive me for being too forward. I...”
“What time for dinner? Tonight is unfortunately not going to work for me. I have prior arrangements that can't be cancelled. But if you're free tomorrow, I can certainly clear my schedule.”
“Tomorrow would be wonderful. I know this is terribly bold of me, but I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. You've been on my mind constantly. Since you walked into the bar. You're very...intriguing. I can't quite get a read on you. There's something so different about you. Way different than any of the women from around here. A mystery, almost. There's so much I'd like to find out.”
“Well if you play your cards right, maybe I'll let you find those things out,” she responds.
“Tomorrow? Six thirty?”
“How about seven? It gives me longer to get ready.”
“Done,” he agrees. “Where do I pick you up?”
Shit, she hadn't even considered that this question would come up. It has been smooth sailing; much easier and seamless than so many initial encounters.
“Meghan?”
“You know, I'm not entirely comfortable with a stranger knowing where I'm staying. I'm a little paranoid about that sort of thing. You can never be too careful in this day and age. How about we meet somewhere? In public. I hate to be such a bother and a worry wart, but...”
“How about we meet her at the bar? We could go in the back room. It's private there. We can have dinner. A few drinks. See where the night takes us.”
She groans internally. “Sounds like a plan,” she chirps. “I'm very much looking forward to seeing you again. To chatting more. I'm flattered. That you thought of me.”
“I've been obsessed with you,” he admits.
“Well hopefully you hold onto some of that enthusiasm. I have to go. I have an online meeting with my editor in a few, so...”
“I'm very much looking forward to tomorrow,” he says. “And I'm flattered as well. That you'd agree to have dinner with me.”
“I'll see you tomorrow,” she promises. “Seven.”
“Seven,” he confirms, and then offers a soft, quiet goodbye before hanging up the phone.
****
“Well this isn't how I expected things to go,” Mark says, smirking from the passenger's seat of the rented SUV. “You asking me for help.”
“It's the last thing I want to be doing, believe me. You're the last person I want to be dealing with. Ever.”
“So why am I here? What's got the legendary Tyler Rake swallowing his pride and actually asking someone for help? You're usually a one man show from what I've heard. Must be some serious shit if you're willing to suck it up and give someone a call. Especially me.”
Tyler sighs, eyes briefly closing as he pinches the bridge of his nose between the thumb and forefinger. “You're already making me regret this. Could you maybe shut the fuck up for five seconds? I don't have the time or the tolerance to listen to your bullshit. I don't want to hear any comments about my marriage, no opinions on how I handle things with my wife, no stupid shit about my personal life or my kids or none of that. This is strictly business. So let's keep it that way, yeah?
“Fair enough,” Mark agrees. “So what's up? What's going on?”
“This McMann guy,” Tyler begins. “There's no way of knowing what he's really up to. If he's innocent in all of this or he's actually part of it. If he's the victim in all of this or if this is some really crazy act of revenge and he's just wanting to get me alone.”
“I thought you didn't have history with this guy? With the IRA? Or with the wife?”
“I don't know. Well, not that I can remember anyway,” he confesses. “There's things...a lot of things ...that I don't remember. Dhaka...everything that happened on the bridge...it's fucked with my head. I'm not sure if it's because of blood loss or lack of oxygen or all the meds I've been on. But there's things I don't remember. No matter how hard I try to. So maybe I did have history with them. Maybe I did have a job they were involved in and I pissed them off and I just don't remember it.”
“And when you didn't recognize McMann when he showed up in Telluride, he decided to play it for all it's worth,” Mark concludes.
“Maybe. I don't know. He seemed like he was on the up and up. About what's going on with his wife and his kids. But there's a couple times where he's said some things that didn't quite sit right. I brought up how if...when...things go to shit...he might not be able to get his kids out. Not both of them, anyway. He threw it back in my face. Asking me how I'd decide which of the twins to save.”
Mark scowls. “That's a bitch move.”
Tyler nods. “I told him there'd be no decision. That I'd give up my life for theirs. No hesitation. If it meant saving them and getting them back to their mother, that it was something I was willing to do. It would be easier on Esme. If she lost me instead of one of the kids. She'd get over me. But she'd never get over losing one of them. She's an amazing mum. And I'm lucky. To have her. That she's the mother of my kids.”
“It's what she always wanted. Kids. I just wasn't the man to give her that.”
“McMann wasn't on the same page as I was. The idea seemed ridiculous to him. Having to make that kind of decision. He wasn't...he isn't willing to sacrifice himself for them. I found it weird. That there'd be any hesitation whatsoever. How do you not want to save your kids? Your blood? They're your legacy. Why would you not want to let them go on and live long and happy lives? It didn't sit well with me. I haven't been able to get it out of my head.”
“There's guys without kids that would make the same decision as you. I saw it overseas. In Iraq. You probably did too. Soldiers ready and willing to sacrifice themselves to save random kids...and women...from the Taliban.”
Tyler nods. “I've seen it a few times, actually. I've even known mercenaries that have given themselves up to save someone.”
“You almost did,” Mark points out. “Even after things went to hell and there was no money, you still busted your ass to kid that get out. And Esme.”
“I wasn't going to leave them behind. No matter who wanted me to. And if it meant I died for them...”
he shrugs. “...it was what I was willing to do.”
Mark nods slowly, considering his words. The sincerity in his voice. In his eyes.
“Esme doesn't trust him,” Tyler says. “McMann. And she has great instincts. Better than mine sometimes. She didn't want me going into this alone. She's worried sick. That this could all be a trap and McMann's got an army of guys just waiting to ambush me. I need to give her peace of mind. And I promised her I'd come back safe. That I'd come back to her. She trusts you. I don't know why. Considering everything you did to her...” he holds up his hand; a plea for silence when the other man opens his mouth to speak. “....but she trusts you. You're the only one I could call. Yaz was made the same time I was. I can't be seen in public with Esme or she'd be made and that will fuck up her end of things. So I called you.”
“How do you know you can trust me?”
“Because you know I'd fuck you up if you crossed me. You know I won't hesitate killing you. And I don't think you want that, do you. You can act all big and bad, walk around wagging your mouth, try to get under my skin. But you know the stories. All the bloody and gory details. You know what I'm capable of. And you know I won't mind adding you to the body count.”
A smirk tugs at the corners of Mark's mouth. Not nearly as confident as the ones he's given before.
“So this is me, asking you for help. Now are you in or you're out, mate? Because I don't have all day.”
Mark hesitates. Then offers a hand. An agreement. “I'm in.”
****
“William Robert Flynn,” Yaz reads the information aloud from where he sits at the table in Esme and Tyler's room, his own laptop and ipad spread across the table. “Born March 15th, 1997, right here in Belfast. Parents are Robert and Elizabeth Flynn. Nee McDonald. Dad is deceased. 2011. Mother is still alive. Lives in England now. Remarried.”
“How did the father die?” Nik inquires, her image on the laptop screen. “Suspicious circumstances?”
“Coroner's report lists self inflicted gun shot wound to the head.”
“There's a police report,” Esme speaks up from across the table, her own computer in her lap, a plate of barely touched room service food in front of her. She'd been hungry and had taken it as a sign that the nausea was finally at bay. Until the first bite and attempted swallow had her running for the bathroom. Her head pounds. Frantically. And she reaches for a bottle of water and the container of Advil in the middle of the table. “Says that William Flynn was the one who discovered his father. In the back garden. Face down in a pool of blood. Gun was lying next to him. A nine millimeter. Glock. Spent shell casing near by.”
“He would have only been fourteen,” Yaz says. “Same age Ovi was in Dhaka. Hell of an age to walk into something like that. Your old man missing half his head.”
“Any evidence that says it may have not been a suicide?” Nik asks.
“The police reports are shit,” Esme replies, as she pops three of the tablets into her mouth and swallows them with a mouthful of water. “I've seen some pretty amateur ones, but this has to be one of the worst. Obviously the cops and the coroner didn't think this case mattered. He was an IRA member. Probably caused a world of trouble when he was around. They were just glad he was gone. Why waste the resources, they probably figured.”
“There was no gunshot residue on his hands,” Yaz says. “Or at least that's what the report says. And he's not wearing gloves in any of the photos, so...”
“It was a hit,” his sister concludes. “Before any of this, was there any connections between the IRA or the Buckmans? Anything that stands out? Anything that could tie Robert Flynn to the Buckmans?”
“Not that we've recovered so far,” Esme says. “But we're still digging. Robert Flynn was pretty high up in the IRA. One of their best and longest serving members. A real enforcer. He didn't mind getting his hands dirty. His son is an active member. They have ties to the IRA going back to the grandfather and great grandfather. Not to mention several cousins and uncles still in the movement. It's the family business, apparently.”
“So William Flynn obviously knows Michael McMann,” Nik concludes. “And vice versa. Anything that shows a feud between them?”
“Nothing on paper,” Esme responds. “But he told me that everyone in the IRA is pissed as hell with McMann. For betraying them. And taking a lot of secrets and dirty shit with him when he left. And now they're even more pissed because McMann's out there saying that it's the IRA that scooped his wife and his kids. And they'd admit to that. The IRA would definitely claim responsibility. They've never denied ties to even some of their broader scale bullshit. So they'd admit to this.”
“We were wondering if maybe this is all a big ploy to make things blow up within the IRA,” Yaz speaks up. “To stir the pot enough that an outsider comes in and starts it all off. That maybe that's what Tyler is being used for. To kick it all off. What better way for McMann to draw attention away from himself? Let Tyler cause the shit and then leave him hung out to dry.”
Esme sighs, briefly closing her eyes and laying a hand over her queasy stomach.
“Are you okay?” Nik inquires. “You look a little...off.”
“Just stress. This is all just so insane. It's so twisted and so fucked up and now Tyler's out there...alone...meeting with this guy. What if he has people with him? What if he's got a whole damn army behind him and Tyler's just walking into a huge trap? He's good. But he's not that good. He wouldn't stand a chance and you both know it.”
Yaz attempts a reassuring smile. “He'll be okay. He's smart. He knows what he's doing. Your man isn't stupid, that's for sure. Look what he handled in Dhaka. When he went into that apartment to extract Ovi.”
“I appreciate the sentiment, Yaz. I do. But there's a huge difference between street thugs in Dhaka and the IRA. These people are extremely dangerous. Extremely dangerous. And they show no mercy.”
“And neither does Tyler,” he points out. “If anyone can handle this, it's him.”
“He should never have went there alone,” Esme huffs. “It was dangerous. Foolish. Sending him in by himself.”
“We don't have anyone there to help,” Nik attempts to reason. “Resources are extremely thin. It's the three of you and that's it. And the rest of the team is out on other assignments or they're here helping keep an eye on things. He'll be fine, Esme. He always is.”
“Oh really? Always? Because I seem to vividly remember him bleeding to death on the Sultana Kamal Bridge. Or are we just forgetting that that happened? Oh wait, it's because you two took off to get Ovi to safety and you left Tyler there to die. And you left me there to watch him die.”
“That isn't how it happened and you know it,” Nik seems hurt by the explanation. “We came back for you. For both of you.”
“Half a goddamn hour later! Thirty minutes I spent with my hand pressed to his neck, trying to keep him alive. While he bled out all over the fucking place. You weren't there. You weren't the one holding him there on the bridge. You weren't the one with blood on your hands. His blood. So I'm sorry if I'm not as appreciative for your help as you'd like me to be, Nik.”
“Okay....okay...” Yaz pleads for calm. “....let's not rehash this. It's over five years ago.”
“Five years ago, five weeks ago, five days ago,” Esme snarls. “It still happened. And pretending it never did is bullshit. It's bullshit and it's completely disrespectful. To Tyler. To just push it aside like you've both been doing all these years. Acting like it was no big deal. You got him into that mess, Nik. You brought him into that bullshit and then you left him there. You left both of us there. What would have happened had you not come back? He would have died there. And who the hell knows what would have happened to me once Asif realized he didn't totally finish the job. And let's not forget that you wanted Tyler and I to leave Ovi in the goddamn street. You wanted us to just throw the kid to the wolves.”
“I wanted the two of you out of there,” Nik argues. “I wanted you both safe. The kid held you back. Had you gotten rid of him, both you and Tyler would have made it out of there before everything blew up in our faces.”
“He was a kid! He was a kid and you wanted us to just leave him there! Jesus, Nik. Do you realize how that makes you sound? Like a bloody sociopath.”
Yaz sighs. “This solves nothing. You two going at each other like this. I know it's been a long time coming but...”
“You probably wanted him to leave me there too,” Esme says. “I'm actually surprised you didn't suggest it. You knew what was going on. Between Tyler and I. And you hated it even then. You hated the idea of me in his life. Because it took him away from you.”
“That's not true. I was pissed off that the two of you were so goddamn reckless and foolish and you actually thought it was good idea to start fucking each other while on the job. You couldn't wait until it was all over? The two of you were that desperate and horny that you had to fuck each other on my time?”
“Enough,” Yaz snaps. “Both of you. This is bullshit. We're all in this together. It doesn't matter what happened back then. It was five and a half years ago. So they fucked each other. No one else gave a shit. No one else cared. Only one it bothered was you Nik.”
“Because she wasn't the one fucking him,” Esme pipes up. “Not anymore, anyway. All the more reason she probably wanted him to leave me in the street. Get me out of the way so she could climb back into his bed again.”
“It doesn't matter,” Yaz insists. “It wasn't going to happen. Once Tyler met you, that was it. It was over. And you...” he glares at his sister through the laptop screen. “...they're together. It happened. They're married. They've got kids. Let it go already. Let him go.”
“I've had enough of this,” Nik fumes. “We'll pick this up again later. When certain people can actually stay focused on the job at hand. That seems to be a thing for you, Esme. You couldn't stay focused in Dhaka either.”
“Fuck you, Nik. Seriously. Fuck you. I don't need to be here. I'm not one of your employees. I'm helping you, remember?”
No response. Just a black screen signalling the other woman has already logged off.
Yaz sighs, shaking his head in disbelief. “I know that that's been coming for five and a half years, but shit. Could you not have waited until after we discussed all of this? Was it really that important that you just had to get to it?”
“Don't you start, Yaz. You know everything I said is true. She left us there. On that bridge. While he was dying. While I was trying to keep him alive.”
“What were we supposed to do? We had to get Ovi out of there.”
“Oh I don't know. Maybe it would have been nice to help me get Tyler the fuck out of there. How about that?”
“There was no time. There were going to be more cops. Military even. We had to get Ovi out of there.”
“So to hell with the two people that busted their asses to get Ovi there in one piece right? To hell with the fact that your friend is lying there with a gunshot wound to his throat, bleeding out all over the place. Tyler wasn't useful anymore. He did what you all needed him to do and it no longer matter what happened to him. And if I just so happened to get killed too, oh well. No big loss, right?”
“We came back. I told Nik we had to go back for you guys and...”
“Wait...wait...” she stares at him incredulously. “...you had to tell her to go back and get us?”
“She thought it was too dangerous. That the situation was still too hot. She didn't want to ask anymore lives. But I told her that I couldn't just leave you guys there. That if Asif found out that things weren't finished and he sent more people down there, neither of you would stand a chance. I told her I was going back in to get you guys. Whether she helped me or not.”
“So she was more than willing to leave us there. To leave Tyler there. After what he'd done to make sure he got Ovi there? To get both of us there? She was okay with just leaving him to die?”
“To be honest, we thought he'd be dead when we got back. We didn't expect him to be alive still. We all saw what happened. What were the chances that he'd actually survive that? That you would have actually been able to keep him alive?”
“I wasn't leaving him there. I wasn't letting him die. Do you know what that was like? To go through that? To try and convince someone not to just give up? When dying is much easier than the fight not to? I had my fingers in his goddamn throat, Yaz. I had to stick my fingers in his neck to try and block the artery. I can still feel it. How hot the blood was. I can still feel his pulse against my fingers. And I can still smell it. Like it was yesterday. Do you have any idea what that was like?”
“No,” he shakes his head sadly. “And I'm sorry you have to remember all of that. That you had to go through it.”
“I didn't let him die on that bridge and I'm sure as hell not going to sit back and let him die here either. Maybe your sister was willing to let that happen, but I'm not. His life means more than that. A hell of a lot more. He's not the same Tyler he was back then. The one that had a death wish. He's my husband, Yaz. The father of my children. And there is no way I'm letting anyone send him out there to die.”
“You're doing what you can. The intel. The tactical. There's only so much you can do, Esme. Killing yourself isn't going to save him. Getting yourself killed trying to keep him alive solves nothing. Because if something happens to you, he'll put a gun in his mouth. Or he'll drink himself to death. He would not survive that. You know it, I know it.”
She sighs, a frown on her face as she runs a hand over her unsettled stomach.
“You look like shit,” Yaz observes.
“Well thanks. I'm so glad you pointed that out.”
“You're not...you know...”
She laughs. “You have something against saying the actual word? No. I'm not pregnant. We've been trying. But it hasn't happened yet. This is definitely stress. I know the difference. I've been through three pregnancies. I felt the same way with each of them. I knew right away that it wasn't stress and that I wasn't just sick. This? This is not the like any of those three times. It's definitely stress. Worry. And I miss home. I miss my kids. I just want to go home and see them.”
“Soon,” he promises. “This will all be over soon.”
She gives a shaky, skeptical smile.
She hopes he's right.
#tyler rake#tyler rake fan fiction#tyler rake fan fic#extraction#sanctuary#chris hemsworth character
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Happy 28th!
Sending out all my love to the authors and artists in this fandom! ♥
Here are all the fics I read and loved this month:
Ferricadooza! | suspendrs | 1960s - historical - boxing - period-typical homophobia - violence - sexuality crisis - identity crisis - hurt/comfort - Polari - 65k
Harry can’t even fathom the idea of surrendering; he’d fight ‘til he died, if he had to, anything to keep from surrendering.
Or, the year is 1963, homosexuality is illegal in the UK, Louis owns a gay bar, and Harry’s an underground boxing champion with an unfortunate enemy.
The Little Dog Whisperer | lovelarry10 | strangers to lovers - kid fic - fluff - dog walking - 29k
Louis lives alone with his dog Clifford. When he spots a sign in the neighbourhood advertising dog walking services, along come Harry and his son Alfie into his life…
Pretty Please (With Sugar On Top) | angelichl | a/b/o - Sugar Baby Harry - strangers to lovers - mutual pining - miscommunication - soul bond - soulmates - angst - 113k
Harry is a sugar baby omega who cons rich alphas for a living. Louis is a rich alpha with too much self-control.
Step Into The Light | lovelarry10 | PWP - established relationship - 13k
Harry’s filming his music video for his new song in the humid heat of Cancun, Mexico after dark.
Louis watches him with hooded eyes from behind the visor of his motorcycle helmet watching it all go down.
How far can Harry push his desire?
Take on Me | haztobegood | magical realism - 60k
Actor Harry Styles is preparing for his next leading role as Antonius the Gladiator with the help of Louis Tomlinson, Hollywood’s top stunt coordinator. When the demands of Harry’s career get in the way of their training, the pair head to a secluded cabin to complete their training. Then, Louis begins to share senses with Harry. What is causing this mysterious connection and can Louis and Harry figure out how to stop it before they leave the cabin?
Don’t Move In (Don’t Move Out) | 2tiedships2 | a/b/o - friends to lovers - mutual pining - misunderstandings - fluff - 14k
Only one more week and Harry would be living under the same roof. Gone would be Liam’s alpha scent, quickly replaced with Harry’s. All Harry. Louis was going to fucking die. You’d think Louis would be used to it by now, that Harry’s scent would simply fade into the background like Liam’s did. But Louis had a feeling he would simultaneously be living in Heaven and Hell once Harry moved in.
Louis was pulled out of his thoughts when Niall smacked him on the back of his head.
"The fuck was that for?" Louis asked, rubbing his head and looking at the bloody Irishman he called his other best friend.
"You were basically drooling, mate,” Niall said. “That was a courtesy smack to keep your daydreaming from seeping into your pheromones."
It's A Never-Ending Helter-Skelter | runaway_train | Circus - Desert Island - strangers to lovers - 8k
The one where Harry winds up on a desert island with a bunch of circus performers and it might just be the best thing that's ever happened to him.
So...how's parenting going? vol. i: the case of the imaginary friend | thealmightyavocado | crack - established relationship - fluff - 8k
Harry and Louis’ three-year-old son has an imaginary friend that is making their life a living, breathing hell.
Ad arbitrium | star_k
❶ Find what you love | a/b/o - soulmates - one-sided attraction - pining - angst - 26k
Harry learns 16 years is a lifetime to be in love with someone else.
❷ And let it kill you | a/b/o - pining - miscommunication - 19k
Louis doesn't believe in fate, but rather in choice. There's nothing romantic about being stripped out of his own.
Lambing Season | HelloAmHere | Farm AU - comfort - fluff - 24k
“Shut up,” Louis says, an involuntary grin tugging at his mouth. It’s not every boy who will stand in the middle of a cold barn in a suit and play musician trivia. “I’m Louis.”
//lambing season brings sleep deprivation, noisy alarms, cold barns, demanding animals, and warm strangers.
Its Mutual We (All) Discussed It | nikogda | a/b/o - polyamory - omega/omega/alpha - slow burn - soul mates - 28k
Two omegas in a committed relationship are ready to start a family. In the process, their alpha donor becomes part of the family too. Every part of their relationship may be unconventional but all of them have never been happier
Promise in the Sky | Throwthemflowers | friends to lovers - slow burn - religion - sexual repression - internalized homophobia - homophobic language - angst - suicide attempt - implied conversion therapy - healing - acceptance - 99k
AU in which Harry Styles, a naïve, repressed, socially awkward Midwestern highschooler tries to navigate his fundamentalist evangelical parents and radically progressive older sister. He’s doing an okay job of this until the Tomlinson family starts attending Lakeside Baptist Church and a boy named Louis changes everything. Harry is forced to come to grips with his true self when Louis becomes more than just his best friend; but their relationship opens a can of worms and sends them on the most painful, heartbreaking journey of their young lives. They risk everything and nearly lose, and Harry learns that perhaps only one Bible verse is true: that perfect love casteth out fear.
This Glorious Mess | theweightofmywords | mpreg - miscommunication - post-break up - 14k
His head lolls to the side, and his eyes float open to focus on what used to be his bedside table.
It’s empty now, devoid of the framed photo of the two of them. And Louis knows that he has no right to feel hurt, but somehow, this only confirms what this really is.
“This is the last time,” he cries, his voice breaking both from pleasure and pain.
“I know, baby,” Harry breathes, burying his face in Louis neck.
(It's New) The Shape of Your Body | FallingLikeThis | mpreg - enemies to friends to lovers - angst - hurt/comfort - fluff - mention of abortion - misunderstandings - mutual pining - 18k
Taking a deep breath, Louis tears open the packet and holds the test in his hands. Deep down he already knows what it’s going to say. He can feel the certainty of it in his bones but he needs to see it. He needs confirmation.
Movies always make it look like you have to wait a bit to know, like you have to set a timer and give it a few minutes, wringing your hands for an answer. Even the box says it’ll take time, but it actually only takes a second after Louis pees on the strip to see the two pink lines appear that tell him what he already knew. He’s pregnant.
“Oh god,” he breathes, staring down at it. And just like he’d known the test would be positive, he knows now that everything about his life is about to change.
If We Have Each Other | ishiplouis | mpreg - One Night Stands - friends to lovers - angst - fluff - miscommunication - 23k
AU where Harry is a single father and a one-night stand is going to change his life forever.
Little Miracles | Summertimebutterfliesandhome (RoseDaggerLouisHarryLS_28) | mpreg - IVF - infertility - 9k
Harry and Louis have been trying to have a baby for ages but they haven’t been lucky yet. The doctors tell them IVF is the only way but when that doesn’t work either they give up. However, some little miracles happen.
We've got a lifetime to kill | louislovesharry | mpreg - kid fic - minor pregnancy complications - 5k
Harry and Louis have a three year old daughter, Evie, who is their whole world, and another little girl on the way. When Harry falls and is put on bedrest for the remainder of the pregnancy, Louis and Evie must adjust - but it is all worth it for their newest addition to the Tomlinson family.
Lost in Leeds | Open_Direction | mpreg - camping - fluff - 8k
After a couple of amazing nights together at Leeds fest, Harry and Louis get separated with no way to contact each other. This might be less of a problem if Harry didn’t end up pregnant.
Dirty Little Secret | Dont_Stop_Larry | mpreg - secrets - 10k
The one where Harry and Louis fall in love, but can’t figure out how to tell Gemma. That is, until Harry gets pregnant, and they don’t have much of a choice.
This I Promise You | xDnicki | mpreg - friends to lovers - friends with benefits - 34k
A long awaited boys night out leads best friends Harry and Louis go further than they ever have before. It also leaves them with a surprise pregnancy that will help neither of them to forget that night.
Come In and Change My Life | lightswoodmagic (sarah_writes) | mpreg - a/b/o - fluff - 12k
Harry and Louis become friends when Harry looks after Louis' cat during away games, until one night at a party changes everything between them. It's just a shame Louis' going to be away for the FIFA World Cup for three months.
My Sun and Stars, Moon of my Life | OhHarold | mpreg - Game Of Thrones Fusion - arranged marriage - 7k
Harry was used to the luxuries of Kings Landing and then Pentos but when his brother is desperate for the crown he is entitled to, Harry must be part of an arranged marriage to a ruthless Khal of a Dothraki tribe.
Dancing With Masks | messofgorgeouschaos | mpreg - fake/pretend relationship - One Night Stands - pining - fluff - 18k
With awards season coming up and new films on the way for both of them, Harry and Louis' managers decide it's time for them to date for publicity. They don't mind, given that they are best friends and have known each other for ages. Besides, years of sexual tension built into a fake relationship for press, what could possibly go wrong?
You Wouldn't Believe the Dream I Just Had About You & Me | larryatendoftheday | mpreg - college/university - friends to lovers - slow burn - memory loss - 21k
After a back-to-school bash and a few too many drinks, Harry finds himself pregnant from a one-night stand he doesn’t remember. His best friend Louis is the only one who knows about the baby. Together they try to find the father of Harry’s baby, but they keep looking in all the wrong places.
#28th appreciation#1d fanworks appreciation#fic rec#my reads#larry fic#completed fics#my fic rec#monthly fic rec#monthly reads
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9 10 15 25 26 33 44
9: Got any piercings?
Yes. I have an industrial in my right ear, and I suppose I do technically still have a lobe piercing in each ear? I basically never use them, and I really should. They’re still there, like they haven’t healed, but I need to put earrings in them on the daily again. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
I also used to have an industrial in the other ear, but it broke right before work while the piercing was still healing, and it healed before I could get another bar in.
10: Want any piercings?
Tbth, I don’t want the other industrial back. I haven’t really been taking care of the piercings I have, so I’d rather make myself work on those. Maybe a tiny nose stud or an inner ear piercing in the ear with the industrial, but I probably shouldn’t, lol.
15: Favorite movie
God, there’s… a bunch? Lemme go through a bunch by genre, I suppose.
Problematic horror fave: Black Swan, with Silence of the Lamb as a close second
Queer foreign language film: El Angelos de los Sexos bc I have bad tastes; but I also like Freier Fall and Romeos: Anders als du denkst, Bad Boy Street is in English, but it was 110% made for a Francophone audience; and while on the one hand Meine Schwiegertochter ist ein Mann is just Prayers for Bobby without the stakes, it’s also Prayers for Bobby without the uncomfortable redemption of a homophobe who drover her son to suicide and really weird unfocused structure; also Burnt Money is probably ableist af, but it made me feel things, so you should probably go see it
Queer drama: hands down Gregg Araki’s Mysterious Skin, it’s a masterpiece; also i’m missing key pieces like I killed My Mother and Blue, so… ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Queer comedy: I feel like I shouldn’t list Araki’s Kaboom! here, but I will bc I love it, and I haven’t been able to find, like, any of the teenage apocalypse trilogy (if anyone knows where i can find it online, lmk please); I also probably shouldn’t list Jarman’s Jubilee, but my list so fuck your faves
Japanese animation: so many Satoshi Kon films to choose from tho! gotta go with Millennium Actress over Paprika, even though Susumu Hirasawa did some of the best work of his career in Paprika’s soundtrack (though I used to use “Run” from Millennial Actress to practice my kanji when I took Japanese, and I still habitually scribble kanji strokes when I listen to it, lol); for Ghibli films, I’d say Nausicaa of the Valley of the Winds, even though Princess Mononoke is the objectively better film in every way bc, as we ave established, I’m trash; i wanna put down Grave of the Fireflies, but I can never make it all the way through it bc it is SO SAD, and also kinda imperialist fascism apologia :/
Western animation: dark horse candidate Felidae, which is an R-rated German film abt a sentient cat detective getting his dick wet, pissing on things, and taking down cat neo-Nazis, and no I did not make a word of that up; also The Incredibles is simply incredible
Vampire films: honorable mentions first this time, I like how Coppola’s Bram’s Stoker’s Dracula is at least interesting in its take on the story, even if it doesn’t always vibe with me on a narrative and character level (I certainly prefer it to the Bella Lugosi version, fite me purists); I appreciate the Hammer horror aesthetic of The Vampire Lovers, and I do love the shit out of Carmilla; but I’m a German film buff at heart and have to give it to my girl F W Murnau for Nosferatu
German Exressionism: Fritz Lang’s Metropolis, hands fucking down; also M is a masterpiece, go see it twice
70s/80s Spielbergian high genre film: not actually a Spielberg one, but Blade Runner (1979); also Return of the Jedi bc Hamill does his best acting in that one imo, and i’m a sucker for happy endings
Rich white people being assholes to each other: La Regle du jue
There’s a lot; I’m not gonna try to list any more. You have a sampling of most everything I like now.
25: My idea of a perfect date
World domination, absurd luxury and power, and cuddling.
26: My biggest pet peeves
Executive disfunctioning is a massive bitch, so that’s right up on top. I’m also not a fan of my inability to be emotionally vulnerable or to rely on other people. I really hate how I take on way too much and then stress myself out by failing to meet an impossible standard that I set up for myself. And I hate how I don’t have a good outlet for anger or sadness.
Well that was awfully intimate for a list of pet peeves, lol.
33: What words make me feel the best about myself
“Sexy”, right at the top; “brilliant”and “creative” are close seconds;
44: A random fact about anything
So you know Arguel’s Blood Fast, and the land it turns into Temple of Aclazotz? Well Aclazotz is a bat-god fairly closely based on the Mayan god/demon Camazotz, whom we largely know of through the oral traditions of the Q’eqchi. And I was happily surprised by learning that today, bc Q’qechi Maya is a language I actually studied a little bit in my independent study on VOS languages. So that’s neat.
#long post#ask prompt answered#never ask me for my favorite film again#especially not if i have time to think abt the answer#i didn;t even do musical films or french new wave#or even 'artists are terrible ppl and the making of art causes suffering'#(that one is 8 1/2 btw)#itlimoc
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alien: covenant sucked and here’s why
I saw Covenant five years ago (so I think closer to 4 weeks) and I hated it a whole bunch. But it was a very instructive hate, so I’m gonna break it down. Putting everything under a readmore bc this is gonna be long and also I don’t want people who liked it to have to see me shredding away.
The first Alien film was the first horror movie that I liked enough not to care how scary it was. I think I was around 6 when I first saw it. It awakened three things in me: a crush on Sigourney Weaver, a lasting kink for xeno, and a deep love of women using construction equipment for non-conventional purposes. I’m not a hugely dedicated Alien fan, but I think that the films have two very defined qualities:
1) Equal opportunity psychosexual horror. Literally anyone in Alien can be forcefully facefucked and then carry a terrifying alien baby! This is something that’s been commented on to death, so it’s not like I think I’m brilliant for observing this.
2) Woman-centered. Not just in terms of Sigourney Weaver or other Hollywood-unconventional white brunette terms, but the Alien films are also deeply concerned with reproduction. Ripley’s always off to kill the Queen because she’s gonna lay hundreds of eggs, etc. However, unlike a lot of horror films, women aren’t the subject of particular sexual menace. See above: everyone’s a potential victim of the xenomorphs I think this was why the Alien films weren’t as scary to me as other movies, because I didn’t have to see women singled out for rape or assault in ways that separated them from men. Also, women win. Yeah, the xenomorphs always come back, but there’s a little bit of a break at the end of each film. I also can’t even get that pissed off, because it’s female aliens vs female humans, so again I’m removed from awful gender dynamics. I’m not implying that the Alien films are feminist, but they’re not misogynist.
Now that you know my two strongest feelings about Alien, let’s move forward to Covenant itself. First off, several people in the audience were laughing at a lot of the dramatic moments (not just me and my wife). If you’ve got people tittering during a moment of tension, your horror movie sucks. It’s failed. Covenant has three main flaws.
1) Terrible, terrible script. Every single person in the film, other than the robots, is a blithering idiot. The movie starts with a bunch of supposedly professional people waltzing out into a planet that’s broadcasting John Denver without any helmets on, and they’re perfectly fine with having unpredictable communication and dangerous ion storms going on. What the fuck. All of them deserved to die. They go scampering around in the alien water? Christ, you can get all sorts of awful things from water on EARTH let alone on another planet.
Then, when people start getting disgustingly sick, there’s no immediate panic. No, the person has to start vomiting black bile before they think, wow, this is a scary thing to happen on an unknown planet. Remember when that woman was attending to Victim #1 and decided to hug him as his skin looked ready to pop and he was leaking everywhere? What the fuck.
Remember when David started talking about his weird experiments while showing Captain Vaguely Christian his cabinet of fetal xenomorphic horrors? Then he creepily tells the captain to go down to his murder basement and stick his face in a weird egg-casing, and the captain just goes ahead and does it? Probably one of the most rage-inducing parts of the film, but he totally deserved to go. That was actually my thought for everyone who died in the film, other than the gay couple, Walter, and Shaw. The gay men weren’t any more or less likable than the other people who were murdered, but they were a nice little bit of representation that probably 90% of the audience didn’t notice.
Every character in the film acts like a lamb going to slaughter. That isn’t suspenseful, it’s just annoying.
2) Predictability. This could probably just go under the terrible script, but it deserves special attention. My single moment of surprise was seeing David 8 on the planet, and that’s only because I hadn’t looked at any previews. The crew is so tremendously stupid that I know the moment one of them wanders off alone, they will get horribly murdered. When Walter and David fight, I know that Walter will lose the second the camera cuts away from the Fassbender vs Fassbender. This is particularly annoying because the director had established that Walter was ‘improved’ over the David model not 5 minutes ago, and Walter is no fool. He is one of two non-fools in the movie, and since the other one is also played by Michael Fassbender, this is a source of much frustration.
Covenant could have been made slightly better by playing off the audience expectation that David would win. Honestly: was anyone expecting Walter to have won that fight, particularly since “Walter” was acting so creepy after scampering back to the ship? The movie isn’t creating tension through uncertainty, it’s creating tension because the audience is waiting for the goddamn reveal that it’s not Walter, it’s David. Can you imagine if the reveal at the end was that it actually *was* Walter? That would be a legitimate twist! And it wouldn’t be hard to bring back the xenomorph threat in the next film in a way that didn’t involve Fassbender yartzing out fetuses into a drawer while Wagner plays. This leads me to the third, most vile part of Covenant:
3) Misogyny. Here’s where Covenant goes back and takes a shit on the legacy of the previous films, and I gotta repeat that I don’t even really care about the Alien series that much. Covenant completes what Prometheus started, and that’s shifting the focus from women to men. Now, you could say that this is because it’s a prequel to the Alien series, so you don’t have adult xenomorph queens going around to lay eggs, but uh... really? Do we really need to go through this convoluted process of giant white aliens who look vaguely like Clancy Brown?
I dare you to unsee this. So we’ve got the aliens reproducing through coaldust and Clancy Browns, and it turns out that they needed a man all along to make them reproductively viable. Yeah, David 8 is an android, not a human, but we know what’s up, since the writers sure as shit aren’t taking a nuanced or current look at gender. He’s a guy with daddy issues who sexually assaults people, rather than, you know, acting like a genderless robot. Obviously a sentient robot commits sexual assault! That’s how you know he’s sentient, because a sex drive is part of humanity! Please picture me rolling my eyes with disgust.
David explicitly sets himself up as a god in the image of his creator, Weyland. Of course, David thinks he’s doing better than his father, but who doesn’t? We’ve cut women out as free agents, both the humans and the aliens. Alien series? No, it’s the Michael Fassbender being menacing series now!
First off, let’s look at what happens to Shaw. Noomi Rapace wisely tapped out of the series after the end of Prometheus, so she had to be killed off. Was she killed off in a normal way? Nah. She was killed in one of the most uniquely horrible ways in the series, and it was highly gendered. Shaw repairs David, then he repays her kindness by designing a horrible machine to keep her alive while he scoops everything out of her from the waist down and leaves her as this frightening wax-like figure. Prometheus already put Shaw through a pseudo self-abortion, then David goes for the entire womb. I’m sure that the writers (all male - I checked) knew exactly what they were doing with this, and it’s gender essentialism 101: David takes Shaw’s creative, maternal womb powers and takes it for himself so he can make his own alien babies. There’s no way this was unintentional or me reaching - David’s narrative arc is about male parthenogenesis because his daddy was a really shitty programmer. (He probably forgot to close the brackets on the ‘not evil’ line of David’s code)
Now for Daniels. The audience is ‘treated’ to David trying to force himself on her after she sees his figurative rape of Shaw. Then, instead of rescuing herself from this completely unnecessary, un-Alien, he’s-a-goddamn-robot situation, as Ripley would have done, Daniels is rescued by Walter, because this is a film about Michael Fassbender. Her last moment in the film is her screaming as she’s trapped and put to sleep by David.
Remember that whole generation of young women who loved Ripley for being unafraid, resourceful, and great at killing xenomorphs? Women are starving for positive depictions of ourselves. Ripley was one of the few we had. Women are still crying in theaters at Wonder Woman because we have so goddamn little.
Now we’ve got Shaw and Daniels: two women in distress who are sexually threatened and ultimately outwitted by a man. I can forgive Covenant for being a bad film, but the misogyny is disgusting. If the Alien series continues, and who knows since it’s failed to be a moneymaker outside of comics and videogames for a while, it better be a reboot rather than a continuation of Covenant’s storyline, because Alien isn’t about men, damn it. It’s about people dying in space, and women.
And some of them will eat you.
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Fic: A Different Kind of First Time
Summary: Sequel to my fic "Just Once," but can be read as a stand-alone. Phil has only ever had casual hook-ups in the past and so has never had sex without a condom. Now in a relationship with Dan, he experiences it for the first time.
Word Count: 4.5K
Rating: Explicit
Tags: Smut, Established Relationship, Smut, Fluff, Smut, Romance, Smut, Barebacking, and some Smut
Author’s Note: Quite a few people started following my blog after my last 2 or 3 fics were posted, and those fics were all very fluffy, with only hints at the things that go bump in the night. So scroll on by, little lambs, if you don’t want to learn some fun new vocabulary words. I promise to post some non-smutty fluff again soon. (Also, this fic is dedicated to Gilove2dance, who suggested the idea in a comment on "Just Once" on AO3.)
You can also read this fic on AO3 here
A Different Kind of First Time
Phil couldn't seem to stay focused on anything today. He'd tried working on ideas for a new video, but just couldn't keep his mind on topic. He settled on the sofa with his laptop for a while, trying to answer some tweets on Tumblr, but couldn't think of anything clever or silly to say. He and Dan had gone out separately this morning, but Phil had gotten home first and Dan's prolonged absence was driving him a bit mad. He made himself a cup of coffee and sat again on the sofa, one leg jiggling up and down in agitation.
When he heard Dan's steps on the stairs, he sat up a little straighter in anticipation. When Dan unlocked the door and came in, Phil greeted him with a big smile. Dan blinked for a moment, then smiled back, closing the door behind him.
"What are you so happy about?" Dan asked suspiciously.
Phil shrugged, looking away, then smiled a sort of little private smile to himself before meeting Dan's eyes again. His attention was caught by the pink box in Dan's hands. "What's that?"
Dan grinned. "Do you know what today is?"
Phil frowned in thought. "Um ... Thursday?"
Dan rolled his eyes. "It's Tuesday, actually, but that wasn't what I meant. Today is our three-month anniversary ... so I got you something." His smile was a little shy as he offered the box to Phil. Phil opened it to find a cupcake with red frosting inside.
"Can I eat it now?" he asked with childlike enthusiasm, and Dan nodded. Phil took the cupcake out of the box and took a big bite. He groaned in pleasure. "Red velvet!" he mumbled with his mouth full.
"I know it's your favorite," Dan replied, looking pleased that his gift was so appreciated.
"Do you want a bite?" Phil offered, holding the cupcake toward Dan, but Dan shook his head.
"It's for you. Because you've made me so happy these past three months." His face was going a bit pink.
Phil set the cupcake down on the coffee table, heedless of the crumbs falling everywhere, and went to Dan, taking him in his arms and kissing him softly with lips sweetened by icing. "Me too," he said quietly. "So happy."
Dan stepped away and coughed. "We're such saps," he complained, but his pleasure at the attention was obvious. "Now what were you smiling about when I came in?"
"Can't I just be happy to see you?" Phil asked, looking a little nervous. Dan instantly became suspicious again.
"What's going on?" he demanded.
Phil went back to the sofa and sat down, his leg starting to jiggle again. He picked up his cup of coffee and took a distracted sip. "It's been three months," he said hesitantly.
"I know," Dan replied. He gestured toward the crumb-strewn coffee table. "Hence the celebratory cupcake."
"Well, um ... you have to wait three months for an HIV test to be really accurate..."
Dan stiffened slightly, figuring out where this was probably going.
Phil continued in a rush, "So I counted back to the last time I had sex with anyone else, and I went and got tested after three months, and I got the results today, and I'm totally clean. No HIV, no STIs, nothing. Totally clean." Phil glanced up at Dan's face.
Dan nodded slowly, absorbing the information. "I got tested right after we got together. You know, just in case. And I'm clean, too."
They stared at each other a long moment. Phil wiped his mouth with a self-conscious gesture, dislodging a few remaining cupcake crumbs and a smear of red icing.
Neither of them said anything for a long moment. Dan cleared his throat in the loaded silence. "Um ... don't you want to finish your cupcake?"
Phil laughed nervously. "You're thinking about baked goods after what I just said?"
"Well ... you know ... we've waited three months ... I think we can wait a few more minutes so you can enjoy the cupcake I brought you for our anniversary." Dan was clearly blushing now.
"Maybe you can wait," Phil muttered to himself, but Dan heard him and chuckled.
"It's worth waiting for," Dan said softly and came to sit beside Phil on the sofa. He picked up the cupcake and handed it to Phil. "Here. I got this for you, because I was thinking about you and how much I love you. I want to see you enjoy it."
Phil was silent a moment, then carefully placed the partially eaten cupcake back in the box. "I appreciate the thought, Dan. I really do. But the cupcake will still be here in a couple hours." He looked into Dan's eyes. "I've been waiting three months to be able to touch you properly ... and then for the past hour I've been going crazy waiting for you to get home ... and ... just ... please don't make me wait any more." He took a breath before continuing, looking into Dan's eyes. "I've been thinking about how much I love you, too, and I want to see you enjoy something much better than a cupcake." And a cheeky smirk touched his lips.
Dan ducked his head a little, smiling, then said, "Okay."
Phil let out a breath in a whoosh and exclaimed, "Finally!" which made them both laugh. Phil leapt off the couch and pulled a surprised Dan up with him, gulping at the sudden change in attitude. Phil took Dan's face in his hands and kissed him slowly, deeply, leaving him panting in the aftermath.
"Okay, fuck the cupcake. You've got me convinced," Dan breathed, gazing into Phil's eyes.
"Yes to the fucking. Later for the cupcake," Phil replied huskily as he reached down to take hold of Dan's hips and pull him closer, pressing their bodies together.
Dan groaned, then murmured, "It still freaks me out sometimes, how you can go from goofball to ... to freaking sex god ... within seconds."
Phil chuckled. "What can I say? Sometimes I want a red velvet cupcake, and sometimes I want to fuck. Now, less talking. And less clothing." He pulled Dan's t-shirt over his head, leaving his wavy hair ruffled, then began unbuttoning his own shirt. Dan's fingers tangled with his, trying to help with the task, so Phil left him to it and moved on to his belt. He got it undone quickly and tossed it on the floor, then began walking Dan down the hallway as they continued discarding items of clothing along the way. By the time they reached Phil's bedroom—what had become their bedroom—Dan was wearing only a sock and Phil was in his boxers. In seconds, they were both naked.
They paused in the center of the room, running their hands over each other's bare skin, and Phil leaned down to press a kiss to Dan's shoulder, then another to his cheek, before meeting his lips briefly, slowing them down. His voice was soft when he said, "I can't believe we can finally..." He trailed off, swallowing. For a moment he didn't meet Dan's eyes, then he asked quietly, "Do you think less of me ... for ... sleeping with all those people, before? For needing to be tested? Do you think I'm ... a slut?"
Dan pressed a hand on either side of Phil's face and made him meet his gaze. His brown eyes were earnest and serious as he said firmly, "No, Phil. You were always responsible and honest with the people you were with, and I respect that. And I'm just glad that you decided that you want to be with me." Then he grinned a cheeky grin and added, "And I don't mind reaping the benefits of all the stuff you learned over the years," which made Phil laugh and lessened the tension.
Phil ran his hands down Dan's back in a caress, feeling the shivers that ran through Dan's body as he asked in a low voice, "How do you want to do this?"
Dan reached up to twine his fingers in Phil's hair and pull him down into a kiss. When their lips parted, he husked out, "I want it both ways. Either way. What do you want?"
Phil groaned quietly and grasped Dan's hips tightly, his fingers pressing into the smooth flesh there. "I want it both ways, too. I want to feel you in me, but I want to be inside you, too. We can do both, but..."
"You in me," Dan interrupted. "Let's do that first. Like the first time." And then he kissed Phil with such sweetness and heat combined that Phil melted into their connection, his hands roaming Dan's body hungrily, as if he couldn't get enough. Phil nodded into the kiss and began backing Dan toward the bed.
Dan pulled down the covers and scooted to the middle of the bed, Phil following him immediately. Dan looked so soft and vulnerable there, his skin pale against the vivid blue and green sheets. Phil remembered when the younger Dan's skin was tanned from time in the sun, but their lifestyle of spending most of their time inside together had led to him becoming more and more pale over the years, though his skin would never be as pale as Phil's. Phil pressed a hand to Dan's chest and enjoyed the contrast of their skin tones, Phil's tending more toward pink and Dan's more toward olive. He met Dan's eyes, and saw that his lover was becoming impatient. As if Phil's gaze had given him permission, Dan grabbed Phil's hand and began to push it lower, but Phil resisted.
"I want this to be slow," Phil said softly. "The slowest we've ever been." He smiled, trying to let all his love show in his expression. "I've never done this before, never had sex without a condom, and I want this to be special ... for both of us."
They'd had many different kinds of sex in the past three months, and Phil had been thrilled to discover Dan's penchant for dirty talk and willingness to experiment, but tonight he wanted to savor every moment. They'd sometimes been fast and rough, sometimes slow and tender ... and tonight Phil wanted slow and tender. The slowest … the most tender.
He stroked his hand up to Dan's neck, then his cheek, and said, “I’ve never wanted anyone else the way I want you. I’ve never trusted anyone enough to do this, to take this chance. I've never wanted to wait for someone long enough to make this possible. But I've waited for you, to be able to do this with you. Let's not rush."
Dan nodded wordlessly, lifting a hand to press Phil's to his cheek, then taking Phil's hand to kiss the palm gently. He met Phil's eyes before slowly flicking out his tongue to taste the skin there. Phil inhaled sharply, then smiled. "Tease," he chided jokingly. He leaned down to kiss Dan with a lingering laziness, sometimes pulling away slightly to change the angle, sometimes tasting Dan's lips with gentle touches of his tongue, sometimes dipping inside to just barely brush Dan's tongue with his own. It was a prelude, a teasing hint at what was to come, and it soon had Dan arching beneath him, making small eager noises of frustration. Phil loved how vocal Dan was during sex and silently vowed to himself that tonight he would make Dan scream ... but he'd make him wait for it. It would only make the eventual satisfaction that much sweeter.
Phil stroked his hand down Dan's body to toy teasingly with the pubic hair surrounding his jutting cock, not touching him directly but moving lower to gently cup and caress his balls. Dan was moaning steadily now, his fingers clutching the sheets and his eyes squeezed tightly shut. "Jesus, Phil," he groaned. "I get that you want it slow, but does that mean you have to torture me?" Phil relented and moved his hand to rest lightly on Dan's cock, causing the other man to let out a sigh of relief and pleasure. He caressed the soft skin with slow strokes of his fingertips, not grasping the column of flesh but just exploring as if he'd never touched Dan before, as if he was experiencing Dan's body for the very first time. When he did wrap his hand around Dan's cock, he held him loosely, gently, and slid his hand up and down with a teasingly light touch. Dan's groan this time was loud enough that the neighbors were sure to hear. Phil smiled a bit to himself, acknowledging that they'd be giving the neighbors something to complain about tonight, and he wasn't even a little bit sorry.
“I could make you come like this,” Phil offered in a low voice. “Help you last longer when I’m inside you. Would you like that?” His hand stroked loosely up and down, up and down, achingly slow.
Dan nodded eagerly. “Yes. Anything. Whatever you want. Just keep touching me.”
Phil kept his touch slow and rhythmic, loose enough that he didn’t need any lube because he was providing only the slightest amount of friction. It would take Dan longer to come this way, but that was fine with Phil. Still, it wasn’t long at all before Dan’s hips began thrusting into his touch and Phil leaned down to kiss him, continuing the motions of his hand. Dan whimpered against his lips and Phil deepened the kiss, thrusting his tongue into Dan’s mouth in time with his hand’s movements. When he perceived a growing desperation to Dan’s thrusting and felt Dan’s cock grow harder in his grasp, he began to move faster, still keeping his grip loose, knowing that orgasm was imminent. When Dan tensed, his hips lifting high off the bed as he thrust upward and cried out, Phil tightened his grip a bit as he gently worked him through his release, continuing his slow strokes until Dan collapsed limply onto the sheets.
“Jesus fuck,” Dan breathed after a moment. “You’re fucking good at that.”
“I’m good at a lot of things,” Phil whispered, leaning close to flick his tongue along Dan’s earlobe. “And you’re not so bad yourself.”
“Give me a minute,” Dan panted. “I think even my toes are throbbing.”
Phil laughed quietly and pressed soft kisses to Dan’s sweaty face. “I love you, you know.”
“I know,” Dan replied, his words jerky with his calming breaths. “I love you, too. Especially right now.”
Phil laughed again and moved his hands to selfishly stroke his own chest and belly as he eyed his momentarily sated lover’s face, rosy with the satisfaction Phil had given him. He lowered a hand to brush against his own hard cock, having become excited by giving Dan pleasure, by Dan’s pleading noises and the beauty of his writhing body. Dan noticed what he was doing and raised an eyebrow. Phil smirked and took a firmer hold of his own cock. “I like looking at you like this,” he said cheekily. “I like the noises you make and the way you look when I make you come. It gets me hard. So while you’re recovering, I’ll just … amuse myself.” He took up a leisurely stroke with his right hand and raised his left to tweak one of his own nipples, purposely putting on a show for Dan. He licked his lips, his eyelids lowering slightly. He arched his neck in a way he knew was sure to get Dan’s attention and suddenly found himself pinned to the bed by the other man’s larger frame, firm lips pressing and biting at his neck. Phil chuckled in triumph even as he felt himself overpowered by Dan’s greater strength and size holding him down.
Dan lifted his body slightly and slowly slid a hand down Phil’s body to his cock, unceremoniously knocking Phil’s hand out of the way. “Let me do that,” he growled.
“Gladly,” Phil replied, feeling himself grow harder in Dan’s grasp. He closed his eyes with pleasure and let his lips fall open on a gasp.
Dan took the opportunity to kiss him. It started out hard and deep, but then apparently Dan remembered Phil’s request that they take this slow tonight and his lips gentled, his tongue exploring rather than conquering, and Phil raised a hand to tangle in Dan’s hair, tugging slightly in a way he knew Dan liked. Phil’s other hand roamed Dan’s back, still hot and damp from his orgasm. The remnants of sweat allowed his hand to glide smoothly along the sleek skin. At the same time, Dan’s hand was teasing his cock, making him buck in a bid for more sensation.
“So dominant!” Phil purred. “You sure you don’t want to just wait a few minutes to get your strength back and take me like some swooning Victorian virgin?”
Dan huffed out a laugh that Phil could feel against his ear and cheek. “Neither of us is any swooning Victorian virgin. I like you just the way you are, confidant and clever and absolutely my equal. Though I don’t promise I won’t be swooning when you fuck me, because you’re just that good.” His hand continued to move below and Phil gasped out a breath. Dan continued with a smirk, “That was a hint, by the way.”
Phil rolled them so that he was on top, nudging Dan’s hand away and propping himself on his elbows and thrusting along Dan’s cock, which was valiantly struggling back halfway to hardness. The slickness of Dan’s come between them made the motion smooth and easy. Neither of them had ever been squeamish about sex being a messy business, and the slipperiness of fresh come was handy sometimes. Phil could feel Dan harden even more against him. Dan sighed, hands roaming Phil’s back. “You feel so good.”
“Gonna make you feel so good,” Phil replied. “Imagine me inside you, nothing between us, just every ridge of my cock rubbing against the walls inside you, my tip nudging your prostate…” Phil’s thrusting had become more urgent without him realizing it as his words had an effect on him as well as Dan. He took a deep breath and slowed. Dan arched up beneath him, but Phil grabbed his hips and held them down. “Give me a sec. I got a little worked up and I don’t want this to be over too soon.” He closed his eyes and just breathed for a moment. When he opened his eyes again, he looked down at Dan with pale eyes shining with emotion. “Let me do this, okay?” Dan nodded, raising a hand to stroke one pale, high cheekbone. He smiled and pressed a gentle kiss to Phil’s lips. Phil smiled back.
Phil reached for the lube that sat on the nightstand, always ready for its frequent use. One of these days he was going to forget to hide it before making one of his videos and the fans would go crazy. But he wasn’t thinking about that right now. Right now, all he could think about was the warm, willing man beneath him, and how much he loved him.
Dan’s reaction to the first slippery finger inside him was a gratifying moan and a lovely arching of his neck as his head pressed back into the pillow. “Yes,” he gasped, and Phil inserted another finger, sliding both in and out in a slow rhythm, curling them up to brush only very gently against Dan’s prostate. Dan’s hips bucked. “Another,” he begged, and Phil added a third finger, feeling Dan’s rim stretch around him. It wasn’t long before they both knew Dan was ready, and Phil was lining himself up, tip just touching Dan’s slippery hole as he paused, hesitating. He began to slide inside exquisitely slowly, feeling the slick friction against the sensitive head of his cock for the first time. When his crown had breached the ring of muscle and he felt himself actually inside, just that first bit, Phil paused again, breathing deeply.
“You okay?” Dan whispered, watching his face, and Phil smiled down at him reassuringly.
“Just not wanting this to be over before it starts. I’ve been thinking about this since we first talked about it, so I’m a little over-excited.” Phil could feel his face heat. He’d always been smugly proud of his own stamina, so admitting this was more than a little embarrassing.
But Dan only smiled at him and raised his head to press a kiss to his lips. “I’ve been wanting this, too. Just having you inside me is incredible. Take it as slow as you want.”
Phil nodded and adjusted his grip on Dan’s legs, making sure both of them were comfortable before he continued his slow slide into Dan’s body. He closed his eyes tightly and just focused on the slippery heat around him, the feel of Dan’s walls caressing his flesh in a way he’d never felt before. He’d known sex would be different without a condom, but he hadn’t expected this intense rush of sensation. But then he opened his eyes and looked down at Dan’s beautiful, shining face and knew it was mostly because of the person he was sharing it with. When he was as far inside Dan as he could get, he leaned down and kissed him, slow and lingering. “I love you so much,” he murmured earnestly, trying to put everything he was feeling into the words, and Dan wrapped his arms around Phil in a tight embrace.
“I love you, too,” Dan said, and Phil could hear the truth in his words, and in all the words they’d spoken to each other in the last three months, and he began to move.
As Phil had requested, they went at a leisurely, easy pace, their hips moving together with the dextrous familiarity of much practice. They kissed lips, cheeks, eyelids, everywhere they could reach, their lips tender and delicate against each other’s skin. “Does it feel different?” Phil asked quietly after a while, and Dan nodded.
“It’s more intense, more … intimate. It feels like … you … inside me. For the first time.” His voice was thready with need.
Phil nodded, then rested his forehead against Dan’s shoulder for a moment. “I can feel your muscles, fluttering around me. I can feel … everything.” His lips against Dan’s then were firmer than they had been, and his strokes began to speed up. “I can’t … I can’t wait…” and Dan nodded eagerly, granting permission if Phil had needed any.
Phil’s thrusts grew harder and faster, sweat beading on his face and chest as Dan’s hands stroked his arms and shoulders, fingers occasionally clutching when Phil hit the right spot inside him. Phil was aware that he wasn’t displaying his usual finesse, wasn’t making this as good for Dan as it could be, but he was so caught up in his own sensations that he felt swept away by his own experience. He felt his orgasm begin to build and ground out, “God, Dan, I’m gonna come!” before it fully hit him and rendered him incapable of breathing, let alone making any noise as his entire body stiffened and clenched with the pleasure rocketing through him. He wished he could see Dan’s face in that moment, but his eyes had clenched shut against his will and he was unable to open them until the waves of ecstasy began to recede and he gulped in a rush of air. His eyes met Dan’s, and those brown eyes were looking at him with such depths of love that their eye contact was almost as intense as his orgasm had been. Phil leaned down to kiss Dan passionately and felt the hard cock pressed between their bellies. When Dan bottomed, Phil always tried to make sure Dan came first, but this time he’d lost track of the niceties in his own eagerness. But it wasn’t too late.
Easing himself gently out of Dan’s body, Phil slid down to take Dan’s cock into his mouth. It tasted faintly of his earlier release, but also of their combined sweat and just the unique taste of Dan’s warm skin. Dan cried out loudly at the feeling of Phil’s hot mouth engulfing him and Phil remembered his determination to make Dan scream tonight. He slid three fingers inside Dan’s well-slicked hole and unerringly found his prostate, stroking over it just the way he knew Dan loved, again and again, at the same time as he used all of his considerable skills to pleasure Dan’s cock. It wasn’t long before Dan was arching off the bed and yelling out Phil’s name in a very gratifying way that Phil was certain must have startled the neighbors. But, come to think of it, maybe the neighbors were getting used to those sorts of noises from them these days. Not wanting this to end, Phil gently suckled Dan’s cock in his mouth until it began to soften and Dan pulled away out of sensitivity.
Dan pulled him up into his arms and they held each other tightly for a long moment. Their sweat gradually cooled and Phil became chilled, so he reached down to pull the blankets up over them both, but then he pulled Dan into his arms again and pressed a tender kiss to his mouth.
“So,” Dan breathed against his lips. “How was your first time without a condom?”
Phil chuckled weakly. He shook his head and tried to find the right words. “If it hadn’t been with you, it wouldn’t have mattered. But because it was with you, it was spectacular.”
Dan blushed but looked happy. They kissed again.
Phil leaned over to flick a tongue into Dan’s ear and murmured, “And next time, it’s my turn.”
Dan rolled them again so that he was on top and nipped at Phil’s neck playfully. “If you hadn’t already given me two amazing orgasms in the last hour, I’d take you up on that right now!”
“Promises, promises,” Phil smirked.
Dan tried to swat him on the butt, but could only reach his hip from this angle, so he settled for giving him a reproachful glare. “It’s your fault I’m so well-satisfied I can’t take advantage of you right now, you know.”
Phil sighed melodramatically. “Yes, I’m aware. I’m just so fantastic in bed that I’ve worn you out. I guess I’ll have to wait until morning.”
Dan grinned. “Count on it.”
They lay together for long moments, bodies intertwined, feeling each other’s breath, feeling the sweat and come growing sticky and sort of gross between them, both thinking longingly of a hot shower, when suddenly Phil gasped.
“What?” Dan pulled away to ask in concern.
But Phil was leaping out of the bed in a flail of long limbs, stark naked. “There’s a red velvet cupcake in the lounge!” he exclaimed excitedly.
Dan collapsed back onto the bed in relief, a fondly amused smile on his face. “You should go get it, then.”
Phil grinned at him and tore off running out of the room. Priorities.
Author’s Note: Don't let anybody ever pressure you to have sex without a condom just because it will feel better. Be safe, get tested, and use condoms unless you're absolutely sure. And, somewhat less importantly, Like, Reblog, Comment, and just generally feed the author! I write to contribute to our little community, so I love to know that the community appreciates my contribution!
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